Requested by Anon: hi! so can i request a charles x reader one shot that ive been thinking
of? ok so first of all y/n and charles were super close as teens but y/n died
at around 19(got mixed up in smth), charles was devastated and hes still not
100% over it as an adult so when the xmen find a mutant who can control time he
ends up asking them to go back and try to save y/n? and they try and they have
to convince her to stay safe bcs ‘theres some1 who needs her’ or some cute shit
like that?..but if u do this thx!
Not my gif
Warnings: Swears, typos, fem!reader, time travel (?)
A/N: Okay, so I decided to make this a series with 3 parts, because writing just one would have been wayyy too long. I hope that’s okay with you. Also about the time travel, I considered using the character of Shadowcat for it, but my approach was a little different and it wouldn’t have worked with her, so I decided to introduce another time-travel mutant (It’s not important or anything, I just thought I’d mention it). Enjoy! xoxo
It took Charles a moment to find back to reality and shake off the
painfully familiar nightmare. Then he forced himself on two elbows and reached
for his wheelchair. He knew, if he went back to sleep now, the dream would pick
up right where he left it. And that he definitely didn’t want.
The mansion was quiet and dark, as it was supposed to at 3 in the
morning. Charles’ mind randomly wandered through the rooms of his students,
picking up their dreams, not staying long enough to see any details, but long
enough to know that they were fine. Looked like he was the only troubled one in
this starry night, he thought, stopping by one of the big corridor windows.
cut into the clouds above
the rain sighs
through the grass
fresh green spring bright
my eyes see
but my heart feels blind
gaze locked onto a map of years
near the river
I hear the soft mumble
of water that is wandering away
but like me
has no place to go
The trouble is Lord Mitsuhide doesn’t feel sensible around you. Not when you’re pouring his tea and leaning over him, the smell of fresh green leaves in spring tickling his nose. Why Lord Nobunaga would think this a good idea, he’ll never know, only that he’s now stuck between a rock and a hard place working in close proximity with you. A thrill courses through him, but that’s to be expected after five consecutive days together.
“Milord, may I start collating these files?”
When you both look up he feels himself slipping. His gaze sinks to the papers in his hands. He can’t let you know. He’s a gentleman. The perfect gentleman.
“Of course. Thank you.”
But he’s not privy to your thoughts, and if he could comprehend the state you’re in, he would drop those files and run out the door. Or drop those files and run to you. A buzzing under your skin races along your nerves, slithering and swirling through your system, to make an odd, tingling warmth in your stomach. Watching him melts your brain to soup.
You want to slip your sandal off and trail your socked toes up and down his thigh, where his hands perch lazily atop, drumming absentmindedly. You want to slide your fingers under the crisp fabric of his kimono and run your fingers across the muscle and veins and feel the beating pulse under your thumb. But most of all, you want to drag his mouth down and kiss that soft, dissolute mouth senseless.
Warm arms came around her shoulders as she stood in the garden, her face turned up towards the sun. For a second, they were her mother’s arms; her only remaining memory of the woman who’d given her life, but whose face she knew only from out-of-colour photographs. The next moment, it was Bree when she was little, laughing and proud as she managed her first steps and fell into Claire’s waiting arms.
She put her hands up, hugging the arms close. They were warm and strong, and with them, a face pressed against her shoulder, a soft ginger fall of vanilla and cloves. Bree. She hummed happily, enjoying once more the comfort of having her daughter back with her. They’d returned only yesterday, and this morning, Claire had woken fearing it had all been a dream… until Mandy’s loud cry of “MAMA!” shattered the morning silence, brining a smile to her face.
They stool still for a moment, enjoying the warmth of the sun and each-other’s company, but Claire could sense her daughter had something to say. She looked over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows. Bree studied her for a moment, her expression a perfect mix of Claire’s own open thoughtfulness and Jamie’s knack of hiding his feelings.
Bree took her hand, seemingly making up her mind. “Walk with me?”
Claire squeezed back. “I’d love to.”
Claire waited patiently as Brianna took another few moments to formulate her thoughts, enjoying the fresh green smells of spring released with every step.
“I didn’t know, when I was little, what you gave up for me,” Brianna began, her voice already beginning to shake.
Claire looked at her daughter with concern, “Bree…”
“No. I was so angry with you sometimes, for fighting with Daddy, or being gone.”
Claire stopped abruptly, opening her mouth in protest, to tell her daughter that it was fine to feel that way; to reassure and comfort her. But Bree shook her head, her sweet blue eyes bright and sincere. “Please.”
They continued, starting up the small hill to the coolness of the woods. “Going back, I learned things that I never knew as a child, or didn’t understand. I knew there were people who didn’t like that you were a doctor, but I thought they were just feeble-minded, easily brushed away. I got angry at them sometimes, but I never saw them as a real threat.”
Claire’s concern grew. “Darling, what’s this about? What happened?”
Bree shook her head, smiling now. “Nothing, because of you.”
She laughed at her mother’s baffled face and took both her hands, stopping them amongst the dappled light of the pines.
“You were the only woman in your class, and Uncle Joe was the only black man. When I was little, I didn’t know how hard that was for you two. I couldn’t have guessed how cruel and small-minded people would be every single day.”
Claire reached up and brushed a tear away. “Nothing’s changed, then?”
Bree bit her lip and shook her head a bit. “Well, not entirely, but things are changing. When we went to the hospital with Mandy, there were way more female doctors than there were when I was growing up. Still not equal though, and I’m guessing they still have a fight ahead of them.” She squeezed her mother’s hands, smiling broadly now. “But the fact that it’s changing at all, that’s because of people like you. People who fought to have their worth recognized.”
Claire felt tears spring to her own eyes, and blinked rapidly. “Let’s sit by the water, shall we?”
Bree huffed out a laugh. “Sure, Mama.”
They carefully made their way down to a nice, flat rock, stripping off their shoes and dangling their feet in the water. Bree looked at her mother out of the corner of her eye, making sure she’d regained her composure before continuing.
“All the time I was growing up, I heard people - your colleague’s, Daddy’s, people in the waiting room, you know…” she took a deep breath, “sometimes Daddy himself.” she glanced at her mother, whose surprise was evident. Oh, Claire knew all right. She’d heard much of that herself.
“I didn’t know they’d said that to you.” Claire said quietly. She’d hoped - perhaps foolishly - that Bree had been spared that vitriol.
“Usually not in so many words, but” she shrugged, “yeah. They said it.”
Bree pushed on, “I heard them say you were a bad mother for working instead of staying home and tending to Daddy and I. That patients were unlucky to fall under your care. I thought they were ridiculous, of course, and I wouldn’t have known that if it wasn’t for you. If you hadn’t shown me what women were capable of, I would be stuck with all those small-minded idiots. I would have indulged my ignorance and fear and become would be one of them.” She smiled, in spite of the sorrow that was now clear on her face. “I would never have known I could have everything I have now.”
Claire was far too choked up to speak, so instead she kissed Bree on the forehead, as she had when she was a small child.
“You know, one idiot told me I couldn’t be a hydro plant inspector because I happen to have a vagina?”
They both burst out laughing.
“Goodness, what did you say?” Claire asked, wiping her eyes once they’d mostly recovered.
“Well I told him where he could shove his sexism, of course.” Bree said proudly.
“Well done, darling!” Claire laughed again. “And you got the job?”
“I did indeed. He just stood there gaping like a fish. I don’t think he was terribly happy about it.”
“Ha! Well too bad for him.”
“Exactly.” Bree was thoughtful again. “And it is, really. Too bad for him, I mean. It’s too bad for all of those people whose world is too fragile to accept that they might be looking at it wrong. And you had to deal with that. More than I did. You had to deal with those people constantly telling you that you were wrong, that you were worth less, that you were harming your patients and me. You had to fight them every step of the way, and you never broke. You fought for your patients, and you fought for me. You fought for yourself, and you taught me you to fight for myself. That I deserve to be recognised and respected.”
She lay her head on her mother’s shoulder. “And I don’t know that I’ve ever thanked you for it.”
Claire buried her face in her daughter’s hair and held her close, unable to express anything in words.
“I never doubted my worth, because you taught me not to. Mama you have a scalpel for a tongue and a spine of steel, and if I can be half the woman and mother you are, I’ll be proud of myself.”