#ingloriouscosmicxforce

@ingloriouscosmicxforce doubled down 🂡 — !

"Well this is unexpected, it has been quite some time since we've last met hasn't it Gambit?"

A slow sickening smirk forms on Sinister's pale face as he gleely observes Remy, "so tell me what brought you back here, to me? Nothing good I imagine. Please don't tell me it's something as boring as revenge."

"Not long 'nuff. I neva see ya fuh nothin' good, Essex," hell, he wished he never had to see him at all, "an' I know dere ain't no use in tryin' ta pummel o' kill ya, ye always comin' back, an' twice's cocky."

Bastard. That snicker on his face did the most in irritating him. The ghostly, unnatural shade in his skin reminded him too much of another, and the source of his visit, in fact. If he had a choice he never would have set foot in the lab. Being aware of that brought a chill to his spine; each time he had been put in this situation, nothing pleasant ever came from it. He was older now, knew better, at least he hoped so.

"...It's..."

Remy's lips pulled into a thin line, bordering on a frown, there was no turning back once he spoke. He hesitated, but the words eventually came to him.

"...Wuteva ya did t'suppress de Death Seed an' Apocalypse's blood, it stopped workin'. It's worse..." It'd found a way to bypass it somehow, either by getting stronger or by learning. He was unsure which was more terrifying.

"You unde'stand dat Celestial tech bett'a den Apocalypse eva did. I don' want dis t'become permanent, not like—"

Not like Sinister and Apocalypse themselves? Or Warren?

@ingloriouscosmicxforce asked: "you're just like your father..."

from this asshole

send "you're just like your father..." for my muse's reaction to yours saying that.

   David already looked like he just ate something sour when this asshole walked up to him but now his sharp features become hard. His eyes flash alight with his anger, his power, and his voice drops into something dangerous, something unhinged.

From Cable to Jean

Jean had fully intended to refute this claim that she didn't have everything under control, but was there really a point in lying to your telepathic son? "Guess I should've known I couldn't fool you, Cable."

"My darling daughter, do you know what day it is? Why it's Father's Day! So please lay on the gifts and adulations for your amazing progenitor!"

(someone please slap him lol)

There was one vast network of person that could get away with stepping into her lab and disturbing her work without any outward show of irritation. The same one that had been putting up with her doing the same for over three decades. Without missing a beat? She’s on her feet and stepping away from her microscope— on the slide her own cells are keeping something more aggressive in line. But Nathaniel’s special day was always more important.

“—Happy father’s day, daddy!” That was part of the gift, wasn’t it? Not only someone who looked pleased that he was there- but actually had the sentiment. She moved with purpose across her lab, like the excited child that she was, towards an oblong box wrapped in a reflective black paper with a red ribbon. Atop it a coffee mug — black ceramic that reads, in a scribbled white font ‘World’s Best Fotter’ and on it what looks like a terribly unamused looking otter. An otter with red eyes and a diamond placed on its brow- wearing a very distinctive cape. A Sinister otter.

“I’m never certain if you’ll like what I get you- I try to apply everything I can to get something that won’t just be vaguely smiled at and left to gather dust… or fed to the tortoise.” Of course she knew, and the words earned him a sharp look, no matter how quick. “This is a custom piece I had commissioned for you, though—“ Inside the box was a large jewelry piece constructed of black gold- a cape clasp. It looks like it’s made to attach where his epaulettes meet his cape with a red diamond, his red diamonds specifically, on either end. Connecting the two is a length of black gold chain with every link constructed so that the piece looks like a DNA helix. Each piece of the jewely made and measured in such a way as to not interfere with any of his own deliberate choices in aesthetic. “Not anything functional— but I figured you of all people could enjoy something that still enhances despite that. Especially something that enhances the theatrical peacocking you’re ever so proud of.” The jab is said without an ounce of venom— in fact, it’s entirely affectionate and something she’s also guilty of.

Send X to hear what my muse would say to yours if they were completely drunk off their head (Still Accepting)

She’d joined him for dinner— not much of an uncommon occurrence, really. In fact, she made a point— whether he noticed or not only minimally important to her, to visit. To offer research that could offer him new insights or solutions to his own work. Samples— always new samples. Or sometimes just to offer a hand with procedures and experiments. She’d brought a bottle of Chateau Margaux with her this time to share with him— and indulged quite a bit herself. It was easy enough for her to do — despite what would have been blaring alarms for any other? She found comfort in Sinister’s labs. His living spaces. All because she fit within his kingdom - he raised and designed her that way. Maybe too much so. Sometimes she wondered if she was the closest thing to one of his clones.

She flopped herself into a chair- remaining some semblance of polite and proper though the edges were softened. Her posture loose and she brings her glass to her lips, draining a generous amount before regarding her father with a warm expression. “You know— you’re a surprisingly decent father. I think you believe I put on a show for you— but I’ve always believed it. I always feel like you think I’m putting on a show for you. But I enjoy your company. Legitimately. What have I truly to complain about—? So you’ve never loved me. I don’t expect you to— just like I don’t expect a fish to survive in a desert. It’s not in your nature — I can’t fault you for what you are.”

She swirls the wine in her glass, watching the deep red liquid in a state of distraction for a moment before continuing. “Apologies, papa. Anyways— I don’t expect what you cannot give. But you took care of me, raised me, took me under your wing. I wanted for nothing. You were strict and a demanding perfectionist but, yes, and water is wet. I’m never going to see you like everyone else does— because while everyone else sees Mister Sinister? I see my father - my mentor - my friend. I like to think we have a wonderful relationship. Unconventional? By all means. I don’t think you could do conventional if you tried - neither of course, could I.”

The stare of a judgmental father.

"Oh, don't give me that look-"