megaphonegirlk:

⛔ Write about sharing a moment of defeat with your villain F/O.

We sat there, the both of us battered and bleeding. The blood loss would have killed lesser men, if not the ragged wounds peppering broken bodies.

But we were mutants. Homo Superior, and even as we huddled in the dark of a forgotten apartment complex, we were healing. Bones and flesh knitting together through shapeshifting and healing factors.

It was supposed to be an easy job. Get in, take out the bigoted mayor-to-be and his wretched cronies before they could take office. As a bonus ? He had everything we needed on him to bleed his corpse dry of not than just blood, but everything he was worth as well.

A win-win for Sabretooth and I, social justice with a payout. But it’d gone wrong. Horribly wrong. Not only was the mayor a little too well armed, but we forgot to count that maybe a certain X-man favored the bar’s darkest corner for his own.

When the bullets flew, quick-healing flesh caught the rounds instead of my target. When tooth and claw sunk into skin, it was met with bladed claws and the snarling of an age old rivalry gone nuclear.

When the night was over, the wretched politician and his little buddies ran home scot-free, and Victor and I were left licking our wounds in an abandoned apartment in Hell’s Kitchen.

Defeat, again. Not only did a bigot live another day, but we had nothing to show for it. Not even a new scar.

I look at Victor, giving him a wry smile. It’s no cold war bunker, I say. He laughs, though maybe the reminder of happier times wasn’t the best move right now.

Still. He looks around with a few colorful words. The place is a fucking dump, he says. I laugh, and wave my hand dismissively, only for him to catch it.

Yanking me to my feet a bit harder than my knitting wounds would like, he pulls me to his chest.

“I’m no Charles Trenet” He says “But it’s what we got, Mystie”

As he hums La Mer, I stifle a chuckle. It’s far from perfect…but it warms my cold black heart anyway. As he leads me through the steps of the dance, we heal together. To the sound of a familiar melody, we resolve to try again.