Warren Worthington iii x reader imagines and preferences

Imagine| Types of Angels

This was requested by @CalypsaOfSaturn
I'm sorry it's really long (3230 words 😬), but I had fun writing it you gave a lot of information which was helpful, and I loved creating a smol dragon friend.
I hope you like it

It all started when you turned 13.
You remembered every detail every single agonising moment.

"Seraphine!" Someone yelled from the other side of your door.
"What!" You snapped back stretching your arms ignoring the nagging pain in your back which had grown the entire week consistently making it impossible to sleep.
Your mother stood at the door her face red, and she had tears in her eyes
"We need to leave now" her voice softened, but the fear in her eyes was enough to get you on your feet.
You tied your pitch black hair into a messy bun grabbing your bag throwing what little possession you owned into.

Peering out the window you saw them: small dots from the 10th floor of the rickety apartment block.

You never meet your father, but it was apparent he had gotten himself head down into illegal business.
You were in debt, or your father was whether he was alive or not to pay the debt was a different story.

The door crashed down, and four burly men and a pudgy-faced girl with bright red lipstick entered the room.
"It's payday" she sneered.
You moved in front of the window behind your mother who glowered at them.
You smiled innocently at them, but your eyes gave away the poison.
You screamed in agony dropping to the floor your back arched and bent backwards like you were possessed.
Suddenly your top felt too tight, and you stretched still screaming, crying your whole body felt as if it was on fire and your bones creaked like your entire back was broken.
Mortified the men stared at you raising their guns, "make her stop" the largest one said his large moustache quivered
Soon enough they all were focused on something right on your shoulder and screeching, "she's one of them" she said moving the gun towards you.

Bang!
The gun cracked missing you shattering the window a cool breeze ruffled your boiling skin

There was a cry and your closed your eyes suddenly something warm was on your face with trembling hand you wiped of something red thick and warm.
A gut-wrenching howl erupted from deep within you as you looked down into the lifeless eyes of your mother staring back at you with a bullet through her head.

A rage you never experienced overtook you. You lunged forward roaring collapsing to your knees as a sharp pain inflamed in your back. Sobbing you stood vision red with anger and pain fists clenched by your side the goons glared at you like you were a monster. One rushed forward and pushed you roughly.
Then you were falling.
But then you weren't.
You were hovering metres from the ground a brilliant, shocking silver pair of six wings shadowed you.

It was dark. That was the only time you could travel. Pip always accompanied you: Pip is a small round dragon with a large head with aqua ears and a long snake-like aqua tail that finished in a bright pink spike and along it were large ridges/ bumps a dull grey colour. Your dragon also owned small leathery sherbet pink wings and large saucepan silver eyes.
Pip was a useless dragon: he only squealed or made sad attempts to breathe fire but had an odd good luck charm the proof for that is all the situation you could have died it and miraculously did not plus he was small and could get into places you couldn't.

Caliban wasn't nice, but he wasn't mean which is why you had a lot of common with him. You never stayed there, but on more than one occasion you seek refuge or back up in trade for being a spy for Caliban or relieving Psylocke of bodyguard when she was on a mission.
Now Caliban showed you a place where you could earn some money: a brutal place but when you had no choice it seemed less dangerous at the moment.