ᴛʜᴇ ʙʟᴜᴇ ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

𝘛𝘸𝘰

After a few years of disappearing, you'd finally found some peace.

The small cabin in the woods was quiet, surrounded by trees that whispered in the wind and skies that stretched wide and free. No neighbors. No questions. No one expecting anything from you.

You built a life out of silence and survival—keeping your head down, living off the land, trying to forget the day everything changed.

So when a knock came at your door on a cold spring morning, you froze.

No one ever came out here.

You moved cautiously to the door and opened it just a crack.

Two men stood there—strangers, but not ordinary ones. One was tall, sharp-featured, dressed in a crisp suit with calm, intelligent eyes. The other stood with arms crossed, darker clothes, a little more guarded, but equally intense.

"Umm... hello?" you said uncertainly, your voice rusty from disuse.

"Good morning," the man in the suit said, his tone polite but firm. "I'm Charles Xavier. And this is my friend, Erik Lensherr."

You frowned. "What do you need?"

Charles offered a slight, friendly smile. "We're assembling a team. People like us—mutants. We're trying to protect others from forces that would use our gifts against the world. We'd like you to consider joining us."

You blinked, heart immediately racing. "I'm not a mutant. Sorry. You've got the wrong person."

You began to shut the door, but Charles gently raised a hand.

"I believe I have the right person, Y/n Maximoff," he said softly. "You vanished after an incident involving three teenage girls. Witnesses claimed you used an unidentified force—something that threw them into walls and shattered mirrors. Blue energy, I believe?"

Your breath hitched. Eyes wide.

"How...?" you began.

Charles nodded, understanding your fear. "I can read minds. But only when I need to. And I felt yours before I knocked—confused, scared, but strong. You've been through a lot. I'm truly sorry for what they did to you."

You looked down at your hands. The memory still burned there.

"I... I didn't mean to hurt anyone," you said quietly. "I just wanted them to stop."

"You did what you had to," Erik said, speaking for the first time. His voice was calm, but it carried the weight of experience. "They pushed you to the edge. You survived. That doesn't make you a monster."

You hesitated.

"I don't think you can help me. My powers... they're too dangerous. I don't even know what they are. Magic? Energy? Rage?"

Charles stepped forward slightly, but not threateningly. "That's why we want to help. Not to control you—but to guide you. You don't have to be afraid of yourself anymore."

You stared at them, torn. You had dreamed of this—of someone understanding, someone telling you that you weren't cursed.

But dreams always ended.

Still, something in Charles's voice—his presence—made you believe, if only for a moment, that maybe this time was different.

You took a deep breath.

"...Alright. I'll go with you," you said slowly. "But if I end up hurting someone—if I lose control—I'm out. I won't become what they said I was."

Charles nodded, his expression warm. "That's more than fair."