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onelovewonderwoman · 3 years

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first class || charles xavier x reader

i’ve been on an x-men binge and fell into a hole of james mcavoy and charles xavier again, so here we are. i haven’t written fics in a long time, so i tried to again. i’m uncreative so like the title is just the first movie because of the fact that it’s set during that time. kind of like self insert cause there’s a few bits and pieces where there’s canonical plot and interactions, so disclaimer for that. anyways, hope you guys enjoy! ps also don’t have enough energy to find a fitting gif so maybe i’ll find one later maybe i won’t. we’ll see

words: 5.8k

warnings: not proofread (i spent three days on this so i don’t have the energy anymore haha), writing lacks emotional depth, drug use and mentions, intent of murder, thoughts of (murder, rape, suicide, etc.), poorly written two paragraphs about kissing, angst, we ignore moira and charles’ romance cause... duh, it’s x reader and it’s too difficult for me to work around it rn a haha

masterlist

The rooms were always the same. They were dark, illuminated only by the dimmest of lights emanating from the occasional lava lamp or fairy lights. Fairy - ironic word for such situations, such rooms. Filled so heavily with smoke it made it hard to breathe, let alone see. And the floors; the floors always felt different.

In hindsight, it was probably the one thing that had her realizing the rooms were never actually the same. Sure, they had the same smell, the same overcrowdedness and moving bodies, the same darkness, even the same taste, but the floors testified to the difference each room held.

Sometimes, when the world would freeze and all the people around her became nothing but a mesh of warm bodies, she could hear the floor creak under her feet with every step she took. There she was - the house right down the street from her.

Other times, the floors felt sticky under her shoes. She assumed it was tequila. There were always too many bottles around to count, surely there would be spills. Or, some poor guy could have pissed himself like that one time. When her shoes sounded like velcro as she walked across the floor, she was at the house all the way across town.

In any case, she felt the same ankle up. One of her favourite parts had to be the way the music always abused her ears - so high, it made her feel lightheaded. More so than she already had been both. Sex was not nearly regular enough for her to compare, but she knew what she would feel every time the music was loud enough to make her head buzz and throb with a vengeance was more erotic than anything anyone could ever do to her.

The place could change but the scene never really did. Down to the people - she knew this for sure. She knew every beating heart around her like they were her own. She never only felt it there, but in her head as well. Even as it buzzed, she felt it. Sometimes it tore at her skull as if trying to escape - ironic.

Now, why did the scene change one evening in 1962? She told herself it was fate, but it had merely been wishful thinking when she knew why. How did she know? She knew the man sitting next to her on the worn down couch, nearly entirely unconscious and reeking of weed and vodka, knew the girl across the house, the girl across the house knew the man next to her and that - so on and so forth - meant she knew all three of them, even though they didn’t know her. So, for two new men to walk into the house, their eyes focused - focused on her - changed the scene entirely.

Now, the music became nothing more than an assault on her ears; the lights became too bright at the same time as the dark became too dark; the air became heavier than usual; and she sobered up at the feeling of something - someone - in her head. Then, it all caved in. It was as overwhelming as it always was, but she was used to it enough to handle it for a little while, at least whilst remnants of her high remained. She couldn’t say the same for the shorter of the two men she saw keel over at the pressure.

He got over it pretty quick, from what she could tell. “Charles Xavier,” he introduced himself as, “This is my colleague, Erik Lensherr.”

A quick trip from the couch to the door had her standing on the lawn of the house of the night with the two men. Crickets could be heard fighting against the sound of the music blaring from the house as she swayed on her feet, making wet sounds in the grass from earlier rain. Charles stood not much taller than her, charm emanating from him and the way his piercing blue eyes seemed to smile despite his furrowed brows and mouth set in a straight line as he stared at her, waiting for a response with his hands tucked into his coat pockets. Erik stood taller, stoic and calculating.

“And?” She crossed her arms across her chest, both in discomfort and the fact that the chilly night air had begun to bite at her skin, her long sleeve doing nothing to help. “I should care why?”

If the incident earlier wasn’t enough, the way the both of them looked at her was enough for her to know why. “What’s your name?” Charles asked, having her notice then the English accent on his tongue.

The second she gave it to him, he smiled - almost sympathetically - at her and hummed, “You have an incredibly busy mind, Y/N.”

“And you have an incredibly nosy one, Charles.” That had Erik letting out a chuckle, one that felt like approval to her ears.

Never in a million years would she dare say yes to anything of the sort the two men proposed to her that night. A team of mutants; not necessarily that she thought it was absurd or a horrible idea - no. It made sense, not factoring in their current climate, to have a team of mutants fighting against the evils of the world. The horrible idea was to have her join. No, she wanted to tell them, “I don’t think it’s such a good idea.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking too,” Erik agreed with her, catching both herself and Charles off guard, “We’ll be going then.”

He offered her his hand. She didn’t know how long she stood there staring at his outstretched arm. Sometimes her high slowed time - it could have been five seconds or five minutes. When she finally looked away from his hand, up at him, she saw he stood unwavered and patient.

“You don’t have to, you know.” Her eyes shot to Charles as he broke the silence. He shook his head, brows still furrowed and mouth set in a straight line. “You’re under no obligation.”

For Charles to know, she understood. He had just been in her mind long enough to know that most of it wasn’t even hers. For Erik to know and offer her his hand made her wonder just how desperate he was to assemble the team - for whatever reason that she was about to find out in a moment.

“We leave now.” Was all he said after he tore his hand from hers.

An hour hasn’t even passed when she found herself on a plane with the two men, mind still buzzing but this time not with a high. This time, with an overwhelming anger and anticipation. The way Erik didn’t make eye contact with her and Charles sent worried glances her way throughout their trip to their “base” was enough to tell her that they knew she had already been briefed on what was happening - the reason behind their assembling of a team. Rather, she knew specifically of the personal motive behind it.

All it made her heart feel like it was beating a mile a minute. It pounded against her chest so hard she was sure at least one of them could hear it. So badly did she want to hide out in the plane’s bathroom and take something to stop the pain, but it was off the table. For now.

Soon enough the flight ended, and she came to find out their “base” was a covert CIA facility where they placed the other mutants they rounded up before her. She just as quickly met and said goodbye to Moira MacTaggert, a CIA officer working with Charles and Erik to stop Shaw. His name alone sent sparks of rage flowing through her veins.

She was left with the group when the three went off that night. There, she came face to face with Raven, Sean, Alex, Hank, Darwin, and Angel - or, Mystique, Banshee, and Havok. Darwin and Angel were “self explanatory”, considering they were already nicknames and described their powers fairly well. Hank was just… Hank.

Her turn came around quickly, once everyone settled down from Alex’s show of his “gift”, when all heads turned to her, sitting at the end of the couch. Raven smiled at her - she liked her, she was sweet - “What about you? What’s your power?”

“I’m,” She paused for a moment, the eyes on her making her anxious and curl into herself hoping, praying, another mutant wouldn’t touch her. “I can move things. With my mind.” She gave a tight smile to Raven and nodded her head, as if to reassure herself. “I can move things with my mind.”

Raven’s smile only widened, excited by either the prospect of her being able to move things with her mind or the opportunity to give her an alias. She assumed it was the latter. She excused herself to the washroom just as Raven asked the group what they thought. “We’ll have one for you once you get back! Promise!” Raven called after her.

Body filled with anticipation, she nearly ran to the washroom, willing the door closed behind her after she entered. It was small, but clean - CIA property after all.

She tried. She really did. Albeit, making contact with a mutant was always the worst; Erik especially. The trauma, the pain, the thoughts. All them clawed at her brain, as though they were tearing through it layer by layer until nothing but them remained within her skull.

Nothing could stop her from taking out the small baggy in her back pocket and tearing it open. Nothing could stop her from taking it, only to feel a rush flow through her. It would take a bit, but soon enough she would stop feeling them gnawing on her very existence. Soon, numbness would wash over her and she could just be no one.

She guessed she was in the washroom for about half an hour. Staring at her reflection, at the floor, at the ceiling, at anything, but when she made her way back to the room, she found it in disarray. Music was blasting from the radio, chairs flipped over, Raven on top of the couch dancing as Hank hung from the ceiling light, the rest of the group messing around with their powers. She couldn’t tell if they were experiencing some high of their own or just happened to have gotten their hands on some alcohol.

“What are you doing? Who destroyed the statue?” Moira’s voice broke her out of the trance she was in watching the group. Slowly, she turned her head to see her, Charles, and Erik walking over as everyone else froze. Moira was angry, that much anyone could tell, but the two men were unreadable.

Hank was the first one to reply back, jumping down the ceiling, panicked, “It was Alex.”

“No. Havok.” Raven seemed to stay unfazed, still standing on the couch with a wide smile on her face. “We have to call him Havok. That's his name now…”

Raven’s words melted away from her. Her focus wasn’t elsewhere; it was simply nowhere at all. She stared at everyone in the room, yet no one at all. So caught up in nothing she didn’t notice Charles himself staring at her until Erik uttered something under his breath and walked away with Moira following, brows furrowed in what looked to be confusion. Just as she caught his eye, he looked away.

Directed at Raven, he spoke firmly, “I expect more from you.”

Not long after, they had gotten word that Shaw would be in Russia, and so she was left with the group of mutants when the three left alongside the CIA to get their hands on him. Before, it would have made her wonder what purpose the group of mutants really served if they didn’t want them there to help. Now, after the incident, she understood why.

By no means were any of them prepared for such a task. She couldn’t claim to be either. She only agreed because she knew a part within her would hate her for not coming and at the very least trying to help.

Just when she thought she and the solemn group couldn’t be any more of a liability, she was proven wrong. Because now Sebastian Shaw stood in front of them, smug and irritating as ever, after having his lackey drop an unsuspecting CIA to his death in front of all of them and cornering them.

“Good evening. My name's Sebastian Shaw, and I'm not here to hurt you.” She was sure she wasn’t the only one assuming he had taken out every single CIA operative in the facility to make it this far; a thought that filled her being with even more dread than she was already feeling at the sight of him. “My friends, there's a revolution coming. When mankind discovers who we are, what we can do, each of us will face a choice. Be enslaved or rise up to rule. Choose freely, but know that if you are not with us, then by definition, you are against us. So, you can stay and fight for the people who hate and fear you. Or you can join me, and love like kings and queens.”

They all watched, both shocked and betrayed when Angel took the hand Shaw outstretched, standing by his side even when he murdered Darwin in his attempt to stop him with Alex. She didn’t see it - she turned away the second Shaw released the energy he’d taken from Alex into Darwin. She heard it, though. The explosion. When she turned back, as Shaw, Angel, and the men he had brought with him retreated, she saw nothing. There was no sign of Darwin; not even a speck of dust.

Suddenly, her chest tightened and the clawing came back.

----------------------------------

The person who happened to almost send them home also happened to be the one who provided them a new place to train their powers for the fight with Shaw. Charles was entirely serious and extremely close to sending them all home; “They’re just kids.” But Erik made it clear to him that they couldn’t be anymore, not after Shaw.

Charles lived, alongside Raven, in a massive mansion that had been entirely too big for her to take in, but it provided the perfect space for them to train their powers. Each of them were assigned rooms by Charles personally that day.

He took the liberty of walking them each there. She didn’t know if it was just her or a Charles thing, but he stayed quiet. Unusual for a man that had so much to say. But then again, with what they’ve already been through, she couldn’t imagine he was feeling very chatty. She certainly wouldn’t have been in his situation. Granted, she would be feeling the same way now, but in her predicament by this point, she wouldn’t mind someone else’s verbal company.

The second he guided her through the bedroom

door, she began to take in the sheer size of the room, feeling bigger than life itself in the way that she was feeling. The bed was even better; huge and looked as though the softness of it would swallow her into a warm hug. Her first instinct would have been to jump right onto it, but the fact that Charles ceased to leave and instead remained planted there, giving her a look she couldn’t make out once she turned to face him, made her fight against her urges.

She opened her mouth in an attempt to utter an “Are you alright?” but never got the chance. Instead, Charles spoke as soon as her mouth opened, slowly, as if to make sure she understood every word he was saying like she had been incapable of doing so before, “Training starts tonight, but I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.”

With her brows furrowed in confusion, she nodded, and Charles began to walk away. He stopped by the frame of the door, back to her, and spoke again, “Try and get some rest.”

With that, he shut the door behind him. Now, she was left in the room alone, tiredness washing over her. Awaiting the next day, she decided to fall into the cloud that was the bed and fall asleep while she could.

----------------------------------

The next morning was when Charles asked to see her - by Raven. The young woman led her over to a room, an odd dome shaped one, where Charles stood waiting. He wasn’t the same as the night before - uncomfortable, was the only way she knew to describe it - welcoming and encouraging.

“We’ve got plenty of work to do,” Charles spoke, hands in his pockets, as she entered and Raven excused herself elsewhere. Looking around, she could see evidence that training had started last night, namely Alex’s. Dark scuff marks were streaked across walls of the dome on the end farthest from them and small balls of fluff on the floor remained, assumingly left behind in the midst of a quick clean up of training dummies that had been torn open.

Despite the mess, several other objects were placed across the floor. All ranged from light to heavy. Chairs, weights - it looked to be anything he could have been capable of carrying in with the help of the others.

She stopped in front of him. “What’s this?”

The man’s smile widened before he started, rather loudly at that. “Well.” He moved towards the objects then spun around to face her, arms outstretched. “This is the beginning of your training.”

She raised an eyebrow, looking at the man unimpressed. “You want me to move this stuff around?”

“You’re not just moving stuff around.” Charles shook his head, arms dropping to his sides as he declared. “You don’t need to move everything here. I only need to see how much you can handle.” His head tilted as he looked at her, blue eyes meeting her own as his expression retreated to one of curiosity. “And how you handle it.”

She didn’t think the professor was aware of the innuendo within the situation, so she let it go despite the sweet stomach dropping feeling that came over her. Instead, she shrugged. “Then what?”

“Then,” Charles hesitated for a moment, “Erik was able to move a satellite dish. If it happens to be possible-”

“A satellite dish?” She laughed incredulously, “You can be serious.”

Charles nodded towards her, challenging her statements as he took a few steps forward. “And what is it that’s making you believe you’re incapable of doing anything similar?”

“Look.” She shook her head, looking directly at him when she said, “I can move the average household item, shut a door and maybe, just maybe, bust it down, but I couldn’t push your couch across the room, let alone move a fu- a satellite dish.”

Charles’ brows furrowed. “And that’s what you believe?”

She hummed. “That’s what I know.”

“Well,” he sighed, disappointment written across his face that sent her into a spiral, “There’s not much we can do if you don’t believe you can better yourself, is there?”

The second he walked past her was when it felt as though ice water had been spilt onto her. A mixture of confusion and gloom washed over her before she turned to see Charles’ back, still moving towards the door. “What?”

He stopped in his tracks at her exclamation, waiting several moments as if contemplating before he turned back to her. Carefully, he asked, “Why do you take them?”

She shook her head, looking almost offended. “How did you-”

“Your mind,” Charles confirmed, “It gets quieter.”

The offence on her face never ceased, but the uncomfortable mixture of feelings she was overwhelmed with had her shrug in response to his question. Charles only nodded and gave her a tight smile before turning back.

She closed her eyes, resigning herself with huff. She could go back to the life she had come to know and hate, or she could take the second chance he was giving her even if it did include the prospect of some suffering.

“I don’t take them for fun.” The sound of her voice made Charles stop again. This time, he waited. “When I touch a person I don’t just take every experience. I take every memory.”

He turned around to face her once more and gave her nod, signalling her to continue. She breathed in and out. “I see and I feel everything that’s happened to them. That’s a lot and it’s enough, but that’s not why I-”

She cut herself off, feeling herself choke on the words before shaking her head and persisting herself on despite Charles’ look of concern. “I take them because, when I take their memories, I take all of their thoughts too. Every one. So every thought of murder, or rape, or suicide, or any fucked up thing, keeps tearing me apart from the inside out.”

Charles nodded, walking closer to her, choosing his words carefully as he spoke, sympathy written deep in his soft voice, “And they scare you.”

She shook her head. Looking away from him for a moment, she willed away tears she felt gathering. She turned back to him. “The thought of acting on them scares me.”

Although slightly taken aback by the revelation, Charles holds his composure. He nodded before opening his mouth to respond, walking closer as he began.

The only reaction he got was her taking a step back, shaking her head. “I swear I’m not a bad person.” Charles assumed she didn’t want him touching her - considering she took away every thought. “I’m always all these people at once - I don’t even know who I am.”

“Then we will figure it out.” Charles tilted his head, making sure her eyes met his when she attempted to look away. His voice was soft and reassuring to her ears, even if she didn’t know whether to believe him or not. “You aren’t alone, Y/N.”

As it turns, the drugs were having a large effect on her ability to use her powers - the next few days told her as much. By no means was she capable of moving a satellite dish, but she had been able to take her powers to lengths she never thought she could have been able to.

Most of it was due to Charles - he’d spent most of the next few days with her, pushing her, sometimes to the point where she’d snap at him. She always calmed, though, and Charles always remained coolheaded.

Still, they grew closer. Or at least she grew closer to him. She couldn’t tell if the praise, the laughs, the banter, and the willingness to come back together after a fight only meant something to her. She hoped it did - because why else wouldn’t he just give up on her? All that time spent on advancing her powers to defeat Shaw, and he still talked about helping her as though their relationship would continue past this mission.

Part of her wanted to touch him so she could just know. Even if he hadn’t taken such a liking to her as she had him, at the very least try to understand him in his entirety and make a space for herself in his life. Then, another part of her was horrified at what she would find in there.

For the time being, there wasn’t much opportunity to dwell on it. The day they would head out was coming soon, and Erik suggested the group get a good night’s rest. They would all need it.

With her luck, she didn’t know why she thought that sleep would come easy that night. Whether it was due to adrenaline, anxiety, or anything else, didn’t matter. Because whatever was keeping her up had her pacing the hallways of Charles’ estate that night.

She wasn’t looking for it, but instead happened upon a conversation.

“… no difference. Shaw’s declared war on mankind. On all of us. He has to be stopped.” She heard Charles’ voice through a door as she passed by. Although knowing that he could probably make out the sound of her mind from a mile away, she still stopped by it. She grew even more curious when she heard Erik’s voice.

“I'm not gonna stop Shaw. I'm gonna kill him. Do you have it in you to allow that?” A moment of silence passed and she shifted on her feet. It made the floor creek. She shut her eyes and bit her lip, nervous, expecting to hear the sound of one of their footsteps coming to open the door and catch her eavesdropping. Whether they heard or not, she didn’t know as Erik continued on, “You've known all along why I was here, Charles. But things have changed. What started as a covert mission, tomorrow mankind will know that mutants exist. Shaw, us, they won't differentiate. They'll fear us. And that fear will turn to hatred.”

“Not if we stop a war,” Charles’ voice wavered on a line of urgency and assurance, “Not if we can prevent Shaw. Not if we risk our lives doing so.”

Charles very well could have been doing nothing but reassuring Erik with his words, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he was actually trying to reassure himself. As if the world wouldn’t either discard or abuse them once they’ve served their purpose of their betterment.

“Will they do the same for us?”

“We have it in us to be the better men.”

“We already are.” Erik’s voice quickly turned from calm to urgent when he next spoke. “We're the next stage of human evolution. You said it yourself!”

“No, no!” She heard Charles attempt to cut Erik off before he sighed. She could practically hear the disappointment in it, although she couldn’t say she felt the same. He only let Erik continue.

“Are you really so naive as to think that they won't battle their own extinction?” She heard him pause. “Or is it arrogance?”

“I’m sorry?” As if Charles had misheard him.

She shifted on her feet once more as their voices became more hushed, despite the feeling coming from the room becoming more hostile than calm. This time, she was more careful. Nothing made a sound below her feet when she moved closer to the door, pressing her ear against it, as well as her left palm for support.

“After tomorrow, they're gonna turn us. But you're blind to it, because you believe they're all like Moira.”

“And you believe they're all like Shaw.” Came Charles’ immediate response. Calmly, she heard him continue, “Listen to me very carefully my friend. Killing Shaw will not bring you peace.”

Erik’s voice never wavered when he told Charles, “Peace was never an option.”

Footsteps came far too fast for her to move away from the door. In a split second, she found herself leaning against the door to crashing into Erik’s chest when he pulled the door open. For a moment, Erik stood staring down at her, watching her attempt to recompose herself and attempt to apologize. She didn’t get a word out before he moved past her and walked away.

She watched his form retreat before she turned back to the room. Standing in the doorway, she saw Charles sitting in the chair facing away from her. With his eyes closed and fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed, “You realize I can hear your mind from across this house?”

She took a step in, almost reluctantly. She didn’t imagine Charles would be content with anything she had to say, but maybe she could make him understand. “Erik’s right, you know.”

Her words had Charles’ eyes snap open. He got out the chair, setting down the drink he was nursing on the table next to him, before he turned to face her. “Excuse me?”

“Peace isn’t an option ‘cause we’re never gonna get peace.” She shook her head, desperation in both her voice and eyes as she stared into his. “Erik thinks they’re gonna turn on us. They might not, but it doesn’t mean any of us will get any peace. They won’t all be like Shaw, they won’t all be like Moira, but most of them - most of them will just be human. They’ll fear us and they’ll judge us. It doesn’t matter how harmless we are or not.”

She watched as Charles took a step forward, his head tilting to the side, expression unreadable as his voice remained calm. “You can’t be serious.” It was a statement - a wrong one.

“Shaw needs to die,” She spoke with assurance. She felt her eyes fill with tears, Charles watching her suck in a breath and release as he began to walk closer to her, before she spoke in a whisper, no longer trusting her voice, “Shaw needs to die for what he did to us. We’re going to kill him, Charles.”

They’re faces we’re merely inches apart, chilling her to the bone as he looked at her. What she thought he would never do is what he tried the second he began to raise his hand, speaking quickly to her when he asked, “Us?”

His hand almost cupped her cheek when she turned her head away from it. Immediately, his hand froze. Charles watched her profile as more tears welled up in her eyes and her lips began to tremble. Voice weak and tearful, staring away from him, she pleaded, “Please don’t confuse me. I can’t-”

“I know you feel it,” Charles’ other hand came up to guide her face back to him despite her, whispering carefully, “But it is not your cross to bear.”

His hand was warm against her cheek. Comforting - enough to make her mind go blank. Wishful thinking, of course, because soon the clawing in her head would come back with a vengeance at having a man such as Charles touch her. For now, though, he felt safe. Stable. Enough so that she could close her eyes for a moment and let the tears fall as he leaned down to her and let his forehead press against hers.

“You can’t help but feel his pain,” She felt his breath against her lips as he spoke, his voice the same soft and soothing as she’s known it to be, “But you can decide what you do with it.”

She shook her head gently and pulled away, but still letting Charles’ hand rest against her cheek. “It’s not just-” she whispered to him, mouth feeling dry as her eyes avoided his, trying to piece her thoughts together. His hand slid down to the base of her neck, guiding her eyes to his. She licked her lips before she swallowed. “I barely knew Darwin, but he killed him right in front of us. And it was cruel and scary and I couldn’t even make myself look at it when it happened.”

“I know.” Charles brought his other hand up to brush away slow falling tears she hadn’t even known began to escape. He voiced nothing but concern, letting her continue as if he knew what she was going to say next.

Her hands reached up to wrap around his wrists, not to pull his hands away from her, but to simply hold onto them. Almost as if they were an anchor to make up for the tears she now felt were falling faster down her face as she realized. “For the first time, I think I want something, I feel this anger and fear, because of my head. I saw it first and I felt it first. It’s mine, and now I have a real responsibility to take care of it.”

“Not with murder.” Her hands tightened around his wrists as he brought her face closer to his own. A frown on his face as he desperately told her, “I meant it when I told you that we would figure this out together. You told me you were never your own person, that you don’t even know yourself. We were - we are - going to bring you into existence. I beg you, Y/N, don’t let yourself be brought into this world as a murderer.”

His words, as beautiful as they were, only half registered within her brain. All she found herself focusing on then was how close he was. She would think back later and come to realize that it was because the only thing making her tears stop and giving her the will not to commit a murder was the prospect of approval she would get from a man like him. From someone who could never understand her struggle, someone who never tried to or tried to make her feel as though there was some way out. From someone who wanted to build on it and show her the strength she could find within it.

Realistically, she knew he would have a few words for her if she ever outwardly admitted to him that she used approval as a means for bettering herself, but it was the best she could do at the time being.

Charles’ brows furrowed as he watched her face, spaced out and regarding him with an expression not even he could read. Somewhere deep down, though, he knew he had gotten through to her. His lips curled up slightly, speaking lowly with amusement evident in his voice, “Now where did you go?”

Her eyes shot from his lips to his eyes once more. As quick as they made eye contact, she leaned forward to press her lips against his. Lips soft, she kissed him carefully, one hand moving to cup his face. Only in the last few moments did he respond to it by kissing back.

She pulled away, looking at him nervously and letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding in. Her mouth was dry again. “I’m sorry-”

She was cut off by Charles’ lips on hers once more. She kissed back instantly, sighing into the kiss in content. Feeling Charles smirk against her lips and deepen the kiss, she put both hands behind his neck, pulling his body closer to hers. He took her lower lip between his teeth, pulling slightly as he let his hands trail down her body to her waist, pulling her to make sure there wasn’t the slightest gap between their bodies.

Their lips broke apart, but only long enough to allow for a quick breath. Charles pushed his lips back into hers as her hands snaked down to the collar of his dress shirt, playing carefully with the top button.

Eventually, their lips broke apart as they caught their breath. Bodies still pressed together, Charles leant forward to rest his forehead onto hers, her eyes still close, for a moment before pressing a kiss to it. He placed his chin on top of her head and rested there, her head resting against the crook of his neck as she felt him - anticipating what it would feel like to feel nothing but him.

#x-men #x-men first class #x-men days of future past #x-men apocalypse #x-men dark phoenix #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier imagine #charles xavier one-shot #x-men imagine #x-men one-shot #charles xavier #erik lensherr #raven #mystique #sean #angel #hank mccoy #james mcavoy #michael fassbender

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sxveme-2 · 4 years

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blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Edited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Seven: The One with Her Sister

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2915

"No! You flip them after three minutes, or when you see bubbles popping across the top!" Lily laughed as she nudged the taller man that was arguing against her. He seemed to flinch gently at the way her arm brushed against the cool metal of his prosthetic, causing goosebumps to pop up on her fair skin, "Too long on one side will cause it to burn."

She could feel his eyes baring down into her. Trying to read her small movements and the different mannerisms she had. Trying to decipher the thoughts that ran through her head at a mile a minute. He was studying her, learning about her, just simply by watching. The way her hands gripped onto the spatula firmly, but not too hard. How frail and thing her fingers were, the way her neck dipped gently before hitting her collarbone. The marks under her eyes, more likely than not, being the results of countless hours at work. The dips in her cheeks whenever her slightly dry lips upturned into that charming half-smile she did.

But most importantly, how her chest would rise and fall at a quicker rate when someone spoke directly to her. Her mouth parting gently as the rapid breaths were sucked in and pushed out. The tinge of pink that hid beneath the surface of her cheeks, creating a rose hue around her.

"and done," Lily stated, flipping the final pancake onto the stack that sat opposite of the two, ready to be devoured by the enhanced individuals around her.

The second Lily placed the plate at the end of the bar, the team snatched them away in seconds, including Bucky. Lily pursed her lips and slid her hands across the soft material of the grey kitchen towel that sat in front of her on the silver countertops. Watching everybody's eyebrows perk up positively, causes Lily's pure heart to swell three sizes larger. Knowing that it was because of something she created alongside the man that had luckily grabbed her attention. Something no one has everthanbeen able to do for the last four years of her life. It was...surprising.

Ever since her divorce, Lily has busied herself twenty-four seven. Denying that there were still fresh wounds carved into her heart like preteens initials carved into a bridge. The damage that was done to her self-esteem becoming borderline permanent because she refuses to acknowledge the fact that it's even there. Lily had convinced herself, that if she were to admit the pain she was in, and come to terms with the suffering she had been through, Scott would win. He would succeed in breaking her completely, which seemed to be his goal from the moment they met. To take that joyful innocence of Lily's personality and twist it into something darker, colder, and more damaging. But if she continued to act as though there was nothing wrong, that she had healed from the divorce...then he wouldn't win. He would continue to be the jerk who was unsuccessful in his plan to manipulate her personality and destroy her internally.

Whether she admitted it out loud or not, Lily knew, deep down inside of her heart and soul, that he had done exactly that. And by ignoring, a beast was created. A hungry, no, ravenous, monster of insecurity and self-pity, feeding off of the anxiety that coursed through Lily's veins on a day-to-day basis. Growing stronger as the days passed, absorbing more and more of Lily's once peaceful and loving personality, turning her into a distant, self-loathing, ball of pain. All because of one man who managed to entwine himself into her life, and rip it apart from the inside.

"These are amazing, Lily. Much better than Bucks," Steve teased, shovelling another fork-full of pancake into his mouth, "They kind of taste like the ones we had at a nice little cafe yesterday."

Lily nodded along as he spoke, but didn't find herself looking at him. Instead, her eyes wandered to the scruffy man that sat to his left. Hand gripping the fork with an indescribable amount of care, as though he would break it if he held on too tight. Lily figured it was due to the fact he was a trained killer, an assassin for all of those years of his life. Being a doctor, she dealt with psychiatric issues in children, but adults and youths aren't that different when it came to mental health and damage done to their brains. She could tell from his gentle lingering over everything, that he believed he was still dangerous. Tip-toeing through life, praying he wouldn't cause a ripple in the waters around him, sending off tidal waves.

"Yes, that's where you met my son. My best friend, Gen, owns the cafe," Lily commented, letting her blonde tresses out from the constricting ponytail she had wrapped around it, "I helped her create the recipe for them."

Just as the captain went to make another comment, a small body crashed itself into Lily's legs. She gripped onto the counters as her son hugged her shins, a bright and beaming smile evident on his face. Chuckling gently, Lily ruffled the soft blonde locks that laid atop of his youthful face. It had been ages since she had seen a smile like that grace Hunter's facial features. To see him so genuinely happy, and letting those emotions shine through in their raw state. His breath was quick, and Lily assumed it was due to the tour, before bending down to his level.

"Did you say thank you to Mr. Wilson for taking you around?" Lily whispered, adjusting the boy’s jean jacket while her dark green eyes glanced over his shoulder at the taller man that had returned as well.

"Mhm! And he said we can come back any time we want." Hunter giggled, his voice hushed as he looked behind him at the group that admired the two's current interaction. A few had longing looks evident in their eyes, as though the domesticity of Lily and Hunter's lives were something they wanted or wished they had. Others were in awe at the similarity between the two, whether it be the quiet tones or their facial features. Whatever it was, it didn't compare to the look Bucky gave them.

Adoration.

"Oh did he now?" Lily laughed while standing back up, sliding her hand into her son's much smaller one, "Thank you all for letting us stop by. May have to come back again in the future. And I will send the pancake recipe to Sam, so you all can enjoy them again." Lily blushed a common thing that seemed to happen with her. Especially when surrounded by these gorgeous people.

"Oh no, text Barnes that one. I gave you his number, he's the one who's newly obsessed with blueberry pancakes." Sam commented while leaning on one of the pillars, sending a quick and not-so-discreet wink Lily's way.

A nervous laugh slid through Lily's lips as her head nodded along to the words that he said. Giving curt and sincere farewells, the blonde lead her starstruck son back out towards their car that was parked at the end of the long driveway. When the two sunk into their seats, as if rehearsed, exasperated sighs were set free from their lungs. Lily rolled her head to face the young boy to her right and a gentle giggle made its way out of the back of her throat, a nimble hand reaching out to ruffle her son’s blonde hair.

"Nice surprise?" Lily asked, glancing down at the rear-view camera on the dashboard of her car, backing out of the parking lot. Her heart clamoured against her rib cage as her mind continued to reel from her previous interactions. Whether it was because of the interest they took in her, making the Avengers pancakes, or the intoxicating smell of Bucky Barnes that permanently attached itself to the inside of her nose.

The musk. The hints of cedar and cinnamon, creating a potion of perfection to mask the smell of anything else around Lily. How his breath was clean and smelled of mint. The way his metal arm felt against her skin, or how warm his flesh one was in contrast. The feeling of callouses gently brushing themselves against her in a way that made her wonder what it would feel like to hold his hand in her own. Whether or not their hands would fit together perfectly, her soft and supple against his worn and historical. The man was a historical celebrity, a man that Lily had to study in high school, alongside his best friend, Captain America. and Lily Osborne had just made him blueberry pancakes.

"It was...incredible. I have no words mom, none." Hunter beamed, leaning back in his seat as his hazel eyes glanced out the window at the winding forest that sped past them in a green and brown blur. His chest rose and fell at a feverish rate, and Lily furrowed her eyebrows at it, before simply chalking it up to overstimulation.

Just as the Doctor went to return a comment, the sound of her ringtone filled the car around her. Her sister, Rose's, contact popped up on her ApplePlay screen, and Lily answered quickly. Typically, Rose only texted. And whenever she called, it was either something super important or one of the dumbest things she's heard. Most of the time, it was her gushing over a celeb who she had styled for a red carpet premiere or photoshoot. Rose made her living as an extremely successful stylist/designer who has worked around the world with names as big as the Kardashians. Apparently, she had styled Tony stark a few times, but Lily figured he either didn't care that much, forgot, or didn't put together that his old stylist and this random woman were sisters. who would?

"Hey Rose, I'm in the car with Hunt, what's up?" Lily wondered as she turned her blinker on, merging onto a street.

"Hey, so I'm out front of your house and kind of need somewhere to crash for a while so can I go in? I know your system lets you know when the code's used and I didn't feel like giving you a heart attack." Rose rambled, the sound of her chewing on her nails echoing through the microphone and out of Lily's speakers.

"Woah there, back up. Why do you need somewhere to stay? Aren't you living with Levi? Thought you two were going strong?" Lily questioned, motioning for Hunter to put his earphones in, in an event that this conversation became a bit too mature for him, even though he probably had heard worse at his dad’s.

A small and cracked laugh had managed to escape Rose's lips, and Lily immediately bit down on her bottom lip, knowing something had gone wrong, "Well Lily since you ask. He told me to get out of his house and life."

Lily not only grew increasingly concerned but became extremely confused. Every time she and Rose had spoken, the younger Osborne seemed to be happy and giddy. And the two were close, so if there was any sort of suspicious behaviour, Lily would have picked up on it. The two would facetime, and Rose's boyfriend that was previously mentioned, Levi, would join in every so often. So either Lily wasn't as observant as she had believed, or something went horribly wrong very fast in her sister's relationship.

"Go inside, I'll be home soon," Lily stated calmly, her foot pressing harder on the gas pedal of her car, "Tell me why he said that. Hunt has his headphones in, I want every detail."

"I'm pregnant."

-----

The moment Lily pulled into her driveway, she tore open her door and rushed into the two-story home she was lucky to afford in such an area in New York. Her purse dropped from her shoulder as she spotted Rose sitting comfortably on her sofa with Joey, whispering to the dog and stroking the top of his head gently. Running forward, Lily practically launched herself onto her sister, frightening Joey and sending him off to run towards Hunter. The elder sister wrapped her arms tightly around her twenty-eight-year-old sister, causing a small tear to roll down the latter's cheek and onto Lily's exposed shoulder.

"He was having an affair," Rose whispered into her sister's neck, a small weep rolling out of her lips like a broken wheel rolling down a hill, "with his assistant."

Sadness and anger had begun to grow inside of Lily's heart. Half of her wanted to drive to that assholes place and slap the living daylights out of him until his grandchildren felt the repercussions. The other half, aka the rational and sentimental half of Lily, knew she'd stay home with her sister and be there for her. Help her through everything. Give her all of the tips for pregnancy, as well as breakups caused by affairs. Her experienced hands ran up and down Rose's back in a soothing pattern, just letting her get all of her emotions out. Before Lily knew it, Hunter had joined the party. His small and cold arms wrapped around his Aunt and mom, somewhat, and the three sat there for around an hour.

Finally, Lily peeled herself away and let out a shaky sigh, wiping the tears that spilled from her eyes, Hunters, and Rose's. Clearing her throat, Lily stood from her couch and brushed off her dress. There was no way in hell that Lily would let her sister sit here and suffer. No, Lily would even raise the poor child if she had to if it meant that Rose was happy. One thing about all three of the Osborne siblings, despite the large age gap between them all, they three were tighter then a screw in a wood board. The first people Lily told about her own pregnancy were Cedar and Rose. Whenever Cedar was annoyed with their parents, he would drive out to stay with Lily in the suburbs or with Rose in upper Manhattan. Nothing could break the Osborne children's bond, and Lily knew for a fact her parents were proud of that because having children that despised being in the same room as each other would probably break a parent’s heart. That was a part of Lily's fear of starting a family, but luckily, she only had one child. So far at least. But she didn't have any plans to procreate with anyone shortly anyway.

"C'mon, we're going to Gens cafe. Auntie Rose needs some chocolate therapy right now." Lily stated after feeding Joey, before letting him out into the backyard.

Side rant. Joey loved the outdoors. But he was also an introverted dog. He didn't seem to mind when Lily went out, and in fact, was always the happiest when he was left to run wild in the backyard, chasing the endless amount of squirrels that seemed to set up shop in Lily's backyard. End of rant.

The three Osborne’s piled into the car once again and set off into the city again.

-----

When they arrived, Lily noticed a familiar car that she had seen earlier at the compound. Her heartbeat rose and she wondered if she'd end up coming face to face with the Avengers for the second time that day. Her mind spiraled and twisted her into thinking they'd believe she was stalking them or something. That now that she had been to their home, she was obsessed with them. Of course, this was far from the truth and wasn't at all what the group of heroes believed. Gen's cafe was simply a staple in Manhattan it seemed, and people congregated there often. And, Lily's suspicions were soon confirmed, as the entire team was gathered around three tables pushed together in the side of Lily's best friend’s workplace.

Speak of the devil.

"Rosie! is that you?" Gen's voice exclaimed from across the cafe, causing many heads to turn into the direction of the door, where the three blondes stood. Lily's eyes immediately turned towards the Avenger’s table, locking with those steel-blue ones that were engraved into her memory.

And lo and behold, there the man sat with blueberry pancakes in front of him, and a blush tinting his cheeks. If it weren't for the lighting in the cafe, the rose hue would have gone undetected under the overgrown stubble that covered his face. Something Lily couldn't help but admire and grow to enjoy seeing. But it were those ice-blue eyes that stared directly through her that sent the shiver down her spine. Her heart picking up its pace as what felt like hours passed of the two just admiring each other.

"...So I'll be staying with Lily for a bit." Rose's voice sang, pulling Lily out of her trance.

The hustle and bustle of the dinnertime rush resumed, and Lily managed to tear her eyes away from Buckys. The power he had over her was unmatched, and he probably could have made her fall to her knees if their little staring match continued...as in she was weak at the knees not in a perverted way. Her legs felt like they were made out of jello whenever he looked at her, and once again, she barely knew him. If even at all. All that Lily knew about James Buchanan Barnes was the things in history books and his name.

But thanks to Thor Oinson, that would change very soon.

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secretlymagneto · 4 years

Text

Here a fic concept before I forget to write it down

Canon divergent from Cuba:

When Charles reads the minds of the men on the ships, all he sees is fear. Desperation. A lashing out scorn for the unknown threat before them.

The most terrifying part is that no matter what he tries, he cannot change their minds, and in the depths of their overwhelming panic, he too panics. He slips. He’s too late for the command.

The silence after is somehow far worse.

Erik holds the missiles in the air, slowly turning them around when Charles, rather than screaming as he rightfully should be, whispers a quiet ‘don’t’.

Those men were already dead before the missiles reached the shore.

Charles collapses into the sand. His vision blurs. He weakly attempts to pull himself back up.

He has never taken this much and given up everything in the process. This isn’t like him. There isn’t time to think about it, not when the missiles fall uselessly into the water. Not when Erik is calling out to him, kneeling over him, holding him with trembling arms.

Holding and feeling like nothing but a shell. Charles despises that damn helmet. He moves to take it off.

To his surprise, Erik lets him.

“What did you do?” Whispers Erik, full of fear and awe and somehow so much trust it tugs at something.

“What I had to,” says Charles, the words barely feeling like his own.

He tries to get up, only for a wave of nausea to hit him. A piercing agony burns through his temples. He falls once more.

Erik rushes to keep him steady.

“You’re bleeding,” Erik warns.

“Let go,” says Charles, his voice shaking yet firm. “I can do this.”

Charles pushes himself up, struggling to stand. Moira has a gun pointed at both of them.

“Freeze,” she shouts, and any ounce of affection she may have had towards Charles has faded into dread.

“I’m sorry, Moira.”

He makes her sleep before Erik has the chance to shoot her. She collapses onto the sand. Hank moves to pick her up, wordless.

“What do we do?” Raven finally pipes up.

The members of the Hellfire club are already gone, refusing to linger at the epicenter of a war. It’s just the first class on the beach, surrounded by miles of the dead.

“We need to find a way out of here,” says Charles, staggering towards them. He is their teacher, their leader, first and foremost.

He has to keep them safe. Erik and him, have to keep them safe.

“What are you just standing there for?” Charles hisses.

The students watch, frozen and projecting a combination of numb shock and exhaustion. They don’t know what to say. They hardly even know what to do. And that future he had once imagined, bright and warm and more home than he had ever had, was crumbling.

This is reality. This is what fear can create. And his family, his children, are too young to have experienced this.

He is supposed to protect and teach them. He just murdered hundreds of men in cold blood.

He is utterly alone.

He has to try.

“Please,” he says, a bit louder, a bit harsher than he needs it to be. Someone has to be strong for them. “We have to g—”

“Charles,” a gentle voice interrupts next to him.

Erik, who is still wide-eyed but at the very least helmetless, comes to his side and offers his hand.

Charles stares at him.

“They’re in shock,” continues Erik. “Give then time.”

It really should have been Charles, saying that. The words seem so foreign from the man who once scoffed at peace.

“I need to get us out of here,” Charles says.

Erik shakes his head, keeping his offered hand out.

“You need time, too,” he says.

“But—”

“Charles, we do this together.”

Charles tentatively reaches out, fingers barely brushing against Erik’s palm. He has no idea what he has just done. If a war has begun. If this is the last of mutants, or perhaps the end to his want for peace with a people who want him dead.

“You’re not alone,” says Erik, so sure and so vulnerable.

Not alone. Charles squeezes his eyes shut, forcing back the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. Slowly, now. It is not the time. Not with the children standing there, needing someone far stronger.

“Charles, you’re not alone,” Erik reiterates.

Charles finally meets his gaze. Unwavering. Fiercely sure.

“How can I be certain that’s true?” Charles asks.

“Because I am not letting you bear this on your own. Because I want, no, need, to help our kind,” says Erik. And silently, Because I want you by my side. Because I need you with me, whether our people end in peace or flame. Because I love you.

And Charles, with skin wet with tears and sea, with blood stained clothes, with wild eyes, he remains.

And Charles, without hesitating, takes Erik’s hand.

(They then proceed to start a mutant revolution together but this time without the terrorism part and more conversational public image while still keeping up the whole “saving mutants from being abused/kidnapped/exploited/etc.” and being ready to fight if need-be. Erik still thinks Charles lost a part of himself that day. He wonders what would have happened had Charles not stopped those men. He may have taken their minds, but they took something far more valuable. Perhaps that is what scares Erik the most.)

#oh shit this is just a drabble at this point >:(#bad simon stop making ideas #feathershollyandgolly #drabble #cherik #xmen #xmen first class #canon divergent #fanfiction #cherik fanfiction #writing #canon typical #violence #but ill add the tag anyway

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ourimpavidheroine · 3 years

Note

Wait you think that Qrow is Ruby's father?

I surely do. Despite Miles and Kerry's insistence that he isn't.

I'll put this under a read more since it’s long and most of my followers are here for the Wuko and not RWBY.

Well. Let me get this straight. I think Qrow is her biological father. I think in all other ways that Tai is her actual father; he's the one who has raised her as his and obviously loves her very much. This is not me dismissing Tai at all. He is her father in every way but the actual sperm donation.

I'm not the only person who thinks this; canon and the timeline certainly support it.

To whit:

Yang is born to Raven and Tai. Raven bails pretty soon after Yang is born - we're not told exactly when, but it's made clear that it's when she's still a baby. Raven still cares about her daughter - she's saved her ass several times (despite saying she'd only save it once) and she can use her Semblance, Kindred Link, to access Yang at any time.

Kindred Link can only access people Raven is very close to - those whom she considers her kindred, in fact. That's canon. Who has she accessed that way? Yang, Qrow, Tai and Vernal (RIP, Vernal). All people that she's very close to. We also know she's gone in her raven form to watch over Yang. But that’s not all. In fact, she’s using her raven form to watch Tai when Yang isn’t around and furthermore, he both knows this and acknowledges it. (See the final end scene in the final episode of Season 5 where Raven comes to see Tai and he knows it.) Between that and still being able to use her Semblance to get to him demonstrates that Raven still has feelings for him. Complicated feelings! For sure! But feelings. And Tai is the same. He's clearly got some complicated feelings about Raven as well that go above and beyond ex-wife who bailed on me and left me with the baby.

In other words, Tai and Raven had a marriage and what was clearly a loving relationship that went wrong somehow, leaving them apart but still dealing with Feelings about each other. (I mean, icky feelings, Raven is one fucked up individual but you know, Feelings are Feelings.)

According to the timeline:

Yang's birthday is July 28th (same as my father, glorious Leos the both of them) and she's 17 when season one starts in the fall. She's just turned 17. Ruby's birthday is October 31st, and she's 15 when season one starts, soon to turn 16. If you do the math to calculate that a pregnancy lasts 40 weeks (give or take) then Summer got pregnant with Ruby when Yang was about 6 months old.

So either Tai knocked up Summer pretty much the second Raven left him or he cheated on Raven to knock up Summer and that’s why Raven left him.

The former is certainly what is hinted at in canon; I’ve never seen the latter even remotely hinted at but you never know, I guess.

But let’s take the theory that both canon and the showrunners seem to be going with, which is Raven left Tai and then he hooked up with Summer.

Per canon, Tai was upset when Raven left him (as well as Yang!) and clearly he did not want her to do that. Now lord knows things happen and maybe Summer comforted him and the next thing you know BOOM. Along comes Ruby. I mean, it is a possibility. Doesn't really match up with what we know of Tai but a few drinks that lead into accidental pregnancies happen all the time. An unplanned pregnancy is something that could have happened, sure.

I do not, however, for one second believe that he fell out of love with Raven and then in love with Summer enough to purposefully get her pregnant all within six months of Yang being born, never mind whenever it was that Raven left them. Nope. Nothing in canon supports it - on the contrary! - and even if Miles and Kerry retcon it into being I call BS all over it. Nope.

Now what we do know from canon is that Summer stayed with Tai after Ruby was born and that she loved Yang and raised her as her own until she left on the mission that she never returned from. There was certainly a family thing going on there.

But - and here’s the but - Tai never talks about Summer as if she was his wife/girlfriend and neither does Qrow.

Now obviously people do not need to married to have a baby, but the fact that Summer’s role in that house seems to be as Ruby’s mother and Yang’s loving stepmother as opposed to Tai’s romantic partner is pretty telling.

And really, it’s just a whole lot to have happened in the six months after a baby is born. People divorcing and falling in love with someone else and getting them pregnant. Not impossible, no. But not in the ordinary, especially when the two people who got divorced still seem to be carrying a torch for each other. A fucked up torch, for sure. But Tai seems to be entangled with Raven in a way he’s never been entangled with Summer, and that’s what we know from canon.

So let’s look at Ruby’s relationships with her father and her honorary uncle.

Tai:

Tai is a very good father and clearly loves both of his girls. Despite the issues revolving around their respective mothers, Tai has raised them in a loving, secure and stable home.

He does, at length, discuss Raven with Yang. It's clearly a discussion that is uncomfortable and sad for him, but he talks to her and answers her questions as best he can. When she loses her arm he's the one helping her to rehabilitate, the one who contacts Ironwood for a high-tech replacement arm, the one who knows before she even realizes it herself that she's going to leave him to go and find her sister.

We don't see these kinds of interactions with Ruby. Oh, that is not to say that she is somehow second banana - that is clearly not the case. However, the discussions about Summer with Ruby are reserved for someone else, not Tai.

Qrow:

So how does Qrow all play into this?

According to current canon, Qrow is Yang's biological uncle due to being Raven's twin and is an honorary uncle to Ruby due to his friendship and former team member status with Tai and Summer.

We do know that canonically he's much closer to Ruby than Yang. He taught Ruby how to make and use her weapon, for example; it's a version of his own scythe. We certainly see his affection for Yang - he obviously loves her - but his affection is greater for Ruby and that's canon, baby. He follows Ruby and Team JNR all the way across Mistral until circumstances force him to out himself (as it were). He's not only following them but is proactively clearing the way for them by fighting off Grimm!

He's also the one who saved Ruby after she used her eyes at the fall of Beacon and you know damn well SHE was the one he was looking for. Not Yang, not anybody else. Her.

Plus let's take a look at this scene, at the very end of End of the Beginning, the last episode of Season 3, taking place in Tai's home after the Fall of Beacon:

*********************

Ruby and Tai look to see Qrow suddenly standing in the room, near the door. He finishes off the contents of his flask before continuing.

Qrow: Mind if we have a minute?

Tai: What, I can't stay here?!

Qrow: Tai. Please.

Tai stands up, sighs, and then leans in to kiss Ruby on the forehead.

Tai: I'm glad you're alright. (he starts walking away) I'll go make us some tea.

Tai glares at Qrow on the way out, but the latter doesn't appear to care.

***********************

So let's get this straight: the honorary uncle overrides the father over the 16 year old in the father's own house? And then HE'S the one to ask her what happened and then goes on to tell her what her silver eyes, the ones she inherited from her mother, are?

Her "honorary uncle" and not her own father?

Uh huh. Mmmmmhmmm. Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.

I mean. Come on.

And sure, Ruby looks way more like a combination of Summer and Qrow than of Summer and Tai (whereas Yang is a clear combination of both her parents, Ruby has literally no Tai in her at all) but whatever, she could take after her mother only.

*cough*

Qrow is the only one who talks about Summer with Ruby, and he's done it more than once. There's love there - for Summer, for Ruby - and I guess we're just supposed to buy that it's just Qrow being a stand-up honorary uncle but I am not buying it.

There's also these lyrics in the song Bad Luck Charm, which is Qrow's song.

Trust one thing, take my advice If you linger close, it's a hefty price You and I are not the same You don't want the burden of my name

It's been proven, again and again, that those character songs aren't just throwaway lyrics. That's something that's been acknowledged by the showrunners as well. Somebody isn't getting the burden of Qrow's name, but who?

Yeah. I think we know who.

Me? I think Summer and Qrow were the ones in love, I think Ruby is the result of that, and I think that the decision was made by Qrow, Tai and Summer that Tai and Summer would raise her because of Qrow's Semblance. And when Summer was gone, Tai continued to raise her, due to their agreement but also because he also loves Ruby as his daughter, not as her honorary uncle.

(I’m not sure about Raven - she canonically knows that Ruby is Summer’s child but she never really gets into Ruby’s father at all. She clearly doesn’t give a shit about Ruby and is happy to let Cinder take a crack at her but as weird as it may seem I don’t think she would actually tell Ruby her father was or wasn’t Tai if she knew. Raven is....well, she’s Raven and she’s morally gray shading into black but she’s not personally malicious, if that makes sense. It probably doesn’t make sense. But it does seem like a Raven way to be. Like...she’s got nothing personally against Ruby so why bother with her at all and that includes talking to her about her parentage. I don’t think it would matter to her if Ruby was her blood or not and if anything Raven holds her cards close to her chest, she basically never gives out any information about anything unless she absolutely has to.)

I've seen people state Qrow being Ruby’s biological father can't be true because it would mean that Tai wasn't really her father and that Yang wasn't really her sister and I call bullshit all over that. If you say that then you are dismissing every single adopted child out there as not being "real" family. Tai is Ruby's father and Yang is her sister regardless of biology.

I do know that the showrunners, from Monty to Miles and Kerry have denied this again and again. Either they really mean it and they've just set up canon in a way that is pretty wobbly and nonsensical and amateurish at best or they are flat out lying in order to avoid spoilers and try to preserve a surprise reveal of Qrow as her father. I don't know. But I will say for the record that if they really mean that Qrow is not her father they've done a pretty poor showing of it in their own canon. And that's all I have to say to that.

#long post #spoilers I guess

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troped-fanfic-challenge · 4 years

Text

AUTHOR REVEAL of the Chopped Choice: Horror Fics!

guess we’re alike that way (Rated T) [Murphy/Octavia] by @probably-voldemort

Theme: Angst || Tropes: 1)Mythical Creature(s), 2)Based on a TV show, 3)Character cradling their significant other's face while they kiss, and 4)Reunion

Summary: Octavia died 25 years ago. The answer, by the way, is ghosts. Just ghosts. Yeah, it’s just as bad as it sounds. Especially Murphy. Why did the only living person who could see her have to be fucking Murphy?

The Haunting of Kane Manor (Rated M) [Bellamy/Clarke] by @sparklyfairymira

Theme: Modern || Tropes: 1)Haunted Building, 2)It was a dark and stormy night..., 3)grabbing their hand in the dark for comfort, and 4)witching hour

Summary: When Roan offers Clarke and Bellamy a hundred grand to stay at a fake haunted house for a night for his new reality TV show, they jump at the chance. But what happens when it turns out to actually be haunted?

cause i know in the morning you’ll be gone (how am i supposed to carry on?) (Rated T) [Echo/Wells] by @probably-voldemort

Theme: Canon Divergent || Tropes: 1)The Adjectival Man, 2)Road Trip AU, 3)Forbidden Relationship, and 4)Arranged Marriage

Summary: Wells liked things to make sense.

Allying themselves with Azgeda when the opportunity came up made sense. Doing whatever it took to make that alliance stick made sense. Entering an arranged marriage with a woman he’d never met for the sake of his people made sense.

The butterflies in his gut whenever he locked eyes with the Azgedan ambassador who was decidedly not his fiancée made no sense at all.

Imitation (Rated M) [Murphy/Emori] *Major Character Death* by @she-who-the-river-could-not-hold

Theme: Horror || Tropes: 1)Someone is is a shapeshifter and the other characters/readers can’t be sure who, 2)Dead Communication Device, 3)Final Girl AU, and 4)Poorly Timed Confession

Summary: In a remote research station on the planet Nakara, Emori is just starting to get into a rhythm with her work when things take a turn for the worse. It starts off with a dog bite but it leads into a desperate race to survive, as the infection spreads and it turns out that her fellow teammates aren’t all who they appear to be. The race against time will involve keeping emotions and personal feelings in check while trying to stop the creatures from picking them all off one by one.

you can stand under my umbrella (Rated T) [Clarke/Murphy] by @probably-voldemort

Theme: Modern || Tropes: 1)Corn Maze, 2)Almost kiss/interrupted before kissing, 3)Caught in a storm, and 4)Teacher!Character

Summary: Abandoning the children was definitely a no-no on field trips. But does it really count when you’re just completely, genuinely lost in a corn maze?

After six years of working with him, Clarke still doesn’t know Murphy’s first name, and at this point its definitely too late to ask.

Mad Women (Rated T) [Gen Fic] by @kinetic-elaboration

Theme: Science Fiction || Tropes: 1)Possession, 2)Mad Scientist, 3)Dead communication device, and 4)Cliffhanger

Summary: Four-hundred-and-twenty-three days in the never-ending darkness of the uncharted universe, and Murphy’s starting to wonder if space madness really is setting in. At least he’s not as far-gone as Raven, hidden away in her laboratory, fiddling with alien tech; or Clarke, who is steering them steadfastly into the deep unknown of ‘haunted space.’

Something isn’t right here, even if Bellamy and Octavia don’t want to see it.

When their little ship receives a distress call from an old friend, the tensions between captain and crew finally come to a head, and Murphy faces more than one unpleasant truth.

Bury a Friend (Rated M) [Murphy/Emori, Bellamy/Clarke, Raven/Shaw] by @excuseyouclarke

Theme: Modern || Tropes: 1)Found Family, 2)POV switch, 3)Cliffhanger, and 4)Haunted building

Summary: As part of their Halloween tradition of trying to scare themselves, Emori, Murphy, Bellamy, Clarke, Raven and Shaw decide to step it up this year by exploring an abandoned Asylum - only, it’s not as abandoned as they once thought.

it was only a dream? (Rated T) [Spacekru] by @spacekrulesbians

Theme: Canon Speculation || Tropes: 1)out of place intro, 2)grabbing hand in the dark for comfort, 3)haunted building, and 4)English damnit

Summary: It’s just another ordinary day on the Ring until someone points out that it’s Halloween. That’s when things get weird.

the ghost in you, she don’t fade (Rated E) [Bellamy/Clarke] by @justbecauseyoubelievesomething

Theme: Horror || Tropes: 1)Friends with Benefits AU, 2)Based on a TV Show, 3)Non-linear story, and 4)Characters hug after they've been through hell

Summary: The wooded area behind the Collins’ property stretches for about nine square miles with the highway into town bordering the far side and the Blake property guarding the southernmost corner. Nine square miles.

It might as well be a million.

Clarke takes another fortifying breath.

It does no good to think about Bellamy. He’s no longer part of the equation. He’s made that abundantly clear.

The Wanheda Tape (Rated T) [Gen Fic] by @kinetic-elaboration

Theme: Historical || Tropes: 1)exes, 2)urban legends, 3)found footage, and 4)abandoned building

Summary: “It’s the Wanheda Tape. You gotta remember this. It happened like five or six years ago. Those dumbass college kids went into the woods out past the auto shop and got lost and never came back… Seriously, what were you two doing in the fourth grade, living under a rock?”

de omnibus dubitandum (Rated M) [Lexa/Echo/Josephine] by @spacekrulesbians

Theme: Post-Apocalyptic || Tropes: 1)Hunter AU, 2)Mythical Creature, 3)Strangers to Lovers, and 4)“give up all your weapons” and that one person that spends the entire evening taking their weights worth out of their pockets

Summary: After vampires took over the world, the Hunter Association was the only thing that stood between the creatures of the night and the rest of humanity. Lexa, commander of the association, was determined to bring the world to a better place, no matter the cost.

And then she met Josephine Lightbourne.

slay your demons (Not Rated) [Jasper & Monty] @skaifayax

Theme: Science Fiction || Tropes: 1)Hitchhiker AU, 2)Creepy Child, 3)Road Trip, and 4)Based on a TV show

Summary: He doesn’t like this. He never has. There is a reason he self medicates with booze and drugs: It’s to stop seeing people like her - dead people.

Umbrella Academy AU but make it Monty and Jasper.

More Than I Do (Rated T) [Gen Fic] by @wwjacksparrowd

Theme: Modern Horror Mystery || Tropes: 1)Found Family, 2)Protectiveness, 3)Based on a song, and 4)Creepy music interrupting silence

Summary: Mysterious circumstances surround the sudden tragedies afflicting Clarke’s loved ones. Can she figure out why before she loses everyone she cares about? Maybe not, but she’s willing to die trying.

———

Honorable Mention of this submission to the Non-Anon Collection:

I’m Demon Proof, Baby (Rated T) [Murphy/Emori] by Anonymous

Theme: Thriller || Tropes: 1)Haunted building, 2)Doppelgänger, and 3)Based on a TV show

Summary: Arcadia Investigates is well into its fifth or sixth season, depending on how you count it, and Wilmington Hospital has been just begging for a visit.

Clarke thinks it’s very scary. Murphy thinks it’s very fake.

Bellamy and Emori are mostly just there to make sure someone gets some usable footage.

———

All the Winners can be found here.

Thank you all so much for participating in this challenge! Now that winners and authors have been revealed feel free to blog about your fics and don’t forget to tag us!

We hope you all will join us again for our next Chopped Challenge: The Chopped Holiday Trope Exchange, which starts in December! Sign-ups will begin in November!

#chopped choice: horror #chopped choice 3.0 #author reveal #masterlist

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kloxbian · 5 years

Text

Promises Painted on my Skin

Synopsis:

Lexa felt her heart go out to her. Clarke’s face was a scattering of dark bruises, blood leaking from a split lip. Her cheeks were swollen red and her eyes, the color of a fading sky, darted around nervously, looking anywhere except Lexa’s face.

Tears pooled in Clarke’s eyes, tears that she fought to contain but a single one dripped down her cheek. Lexa brushed it away, careful to not pressure any of her bruises. “Oh, you poor, sweet girl,” she breathed. “You deserve better than this.”

Or the canon-divergent AU where Bellamy's an abusive bastard and Clarke is the innocent victim

WARNING: This fic contains mentions of physical and emotional abuse. If this makes you uncomfortable, don’t read.

Notes: Okay, now, I would have done a better job with this if I didn’t finish five hours before it was posted. I wanted to lengthen it, and may eventually, but I already have many other things to write, so it won’t happen for at least a few more months, if at all.

A bit disappointing that Clexa Week is over. This is my first time joining, and I’ve really enjoyed it. I’ll definitely be back next year. A few of the things I’ve written are fics I never would’ve written otherwise. I’m very happy I finished it all.

Thanks to everyone who read my fics, as well as to @clexaweekofficial for hosting and sharing Clexa Week. You’re amazing.

The two riders swerved between the trees, the sunlight shining brightly through the leaves illuminating the golden hair of their target. She didn’t look up at the sound of the horses, standing in place, her body shaking. One of the men scoffed. “Dison laik gada yu’s krei fir raun hashta (This is the girl you’re so worried about)?”

“Em laik Skaikru. Heda na gaf em (She’s Skaikru. The Commander will want her).”

She didn’t fight back as a rope was tied around her wrist. The rider scoffed, looping the other end around the horn of his saddle. “Kwelen (Weak).”

“Emo Skaikru laik (All Skaikru are).”

They turned to ride back to TonDC, a sky-fallen girl with shining golden hair behind them.

Lexa twirled her knife in her hands, sprawled lazily in her throne. The scouts were supposed to be reporting back any minute now and she frowned at wasting this time waiting instead of being able to go over her duties.

To her right, Anya was leaning against the sturdy canvas of the tent. “If you keep playing with your weapons, Heda, you’re going to cut your fingers off.”

The guards standing at the door of the tent shifted uncomfortably. No one spoke so casually to the commander, and when someone did, it was expected that they’d be cut down. But this was Anya. She did what she wanted.

“If I do then you’ll be the one writing everything down for me.” Anya scoffed, looking at the sprawl of papers across the planning table. Anya was not very adept in her written language, and Lexa knew that well.

A guard ducked into the tent. “Heda, the scouts have arrived. They bring a Skaikru with them.”

That piqued her interest. “Send them in.”

He backed out and moments later two scouts came in, throwing to the ground a young girl. “Heda, we found her wandering the territory alone. She was miles from her camp.”

Lexa let her eyes linger on the girl, examining her. She was frail, skinnier than even a babe, bones jutting out of her bruised, worn skin. Her clothes hung off of her and her shoes were nonexistent, feet bloody and scraped from wandering the forest. Her golden hair, dirty and matted with mud, obscured her face from view. She didn’t move from where she’d been tossed.

Lexa raised an eyebrow at the scouts. “Is she alive?”

“She walked here on her own two feet. Didn’t try and fight or anything.”

Lexa nodded, turning her eyes back to the body at her feet. “What’s your name, Skaigada?”

She shifted then, rolling to sit on her legs. Her head stayed bowed and when she spoke, her voice was quiet and raspy. “Clarke.”

“What were you doing outside of your camp alone?”

She jerked, her body going stiff. “I wasn’t doing anything, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do anything wrong, please don’t hurt me, I-”

Anya stepped forward. “We’ll only hurt you if you don’t answer the question!” She barked. Clarke looked up sharply, hair lying in waves over her cheeks. She shrank back, curling in on herself. “Well?”

“I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I swear!” Her voice was small and scared, pathetically weak. “I’ll do whatever you want, just please don’t hurt me, I didn’t mean to-”

“Heda, this girl is mad,” Anya hissed, leaning in close to Lexa. “She will not tell us anything. Let me kill her and be done with it.”

“No.” Lexa didn’t believe that. Anya called this girl - Clarke - mad, and perhaps she was, but Lexa refused to believe it. She’d heard of such cases as these, dealt with the aftermath of them, but she’d never seen anything quite like this. Clarke had no defense for herself, begged, pleaded to not be hurt, that she had been doing what she was supposed to, that he had been obedient. She acted like a dog, one that knew nothing other than obedience to its owner.

“Onya, Gona, gyon ou.” The guards bowed and followed her command, exiting the tent without a word. Anya sent her a questioning look, one that Lexa returned with a fierce glare. Obey. Anya bowed her head and left.

Lexa stood from her throne, stepping off the small dais. Clarke ducked her head, repeating the mantra over and over again.

“Quiet.” Her voice was loud and commanding, stopping the young girl in her tracks. She bowed even lower, her face almost against the floor. She immediately felt guilty. Lexa crouched down in front of her. “Are you alright?” Clarke nodded, staying hunched down low. “Can you look at me?”

She did as was asked and Lexa felt her heart go out to her. Clarke’s face was a scattering of dark bruises, blood leaking from a split lip. Her cheeks were swollen red and her eyes, the color of a fading sky, darted around nervously, looking anywhere except Lexa’s face.

Lexa slowly undid her pauldron and jacket, realizing how her intimidating attire wasn’t helping the situation and wished she wasn’t decked out in warpaint and armor. “What happened to you, keron? Why are you colored so?”

Clarke began to visibly shake. “I was bad. I deserved any punishment he saw fit.”

“What did you do?”

Clarke once again lowered her head. “I ate too much food. He said that it could have fed someone more in need of it instead of a- instead of me.”

“Why did you take more food?”

Clarke’s shaking got more violent and she bit her lip. “I was hungry. He only gave me a piece of what everyone else was having and when Octavia and Raven offered me more I thought- I thought it would be okay.”

Lexa’s heart broke. She reached forward, hesitating before gently resting her hand on Clarke’s cheek, coaxing her head back up. Her entire body trembled, torn between accepting the touch or rejecting it. Clarke stood still, though, taking whatever was given.

Clarke looked nervously at her face, opening her mouth as if to speak but thinking better of it. Lexa dropped a hand from her face, delicately taking Clarke’s own. “You can speak freely.”

She bit her lip nervously. “What’s going to happen to me? Are you going to send me back?”

“I will if you want to,” Lexa said, not even thinking about what her generals would say about it. “But I’d like for you to stay here. You shouldn’t have to go back to anyone who treats you like this.”

“NO!” Clarke squeezed her eyes shut, fingers hesitantly linking with hers. “No. Please don’t send me back. I don’t want to go back.”

“Then you won’t,” Lexa said, ducking down to look Clarke in the eye. “You’ll be safe here. I promise that whoever did this to you will never touch you again.”

Clarke took a shaky breath in and nodded. “Thank you.”

Lexa smiled, watching Clarke smile back, though it didn’t reach her eyes. It was nothing more than polite. Lexa vowed to kill whoever would dare do such a thing to this sweet girl.

“I thought…I thought I was supposed to meet the commander,” Clarke croaked. “That’s what those men said.”

“The scouts, yes.” Lexa stood, offering a hand down to Clarke. She took it, still quivering slightly. “And you have.”

“I have…” Clarke looked at the throne behind Lexa and her eyes widened. She stumbled back, falling back down to her knees. “I’m sorry, commander, I-”

“No no no, be quiet, sweet girl,” Lexa rushed over to her. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you, and I’ll make sure no one else does either.”

Clarke’s eyes held some of the same feral instinct they had earlier. “But- why?”

“Because you don’t deserve what’s been given to you.” Lexa helped her to her feet, tracing the bruises on her face ever so lightly. “No one deserves this. To be owned. I want you to have a chance to be yourself, keron.”

“I-” Clarke began to cry, pulling away to wipe furiously at her tears. “Thank you. I promise I’ll be good.”

“Don’t think like that.” Lexa took her hands once more, rubbing them soothingly. “You don’t have to please anyone here. Yes, there are rules you will have to follow, people you will have to obey, but you will not be punished for being hungry nor anything so meager.”

Clarke nodded, her stomach growling at the mere mention of food. Lexa gently released her hands. “Come, sweet girl. I will get you food enough that you won’t want to eat for days.”

Lexa knocked lightly on the poles that held up the tent she’d set Clarke up in. She heard a quiet acknowledgment from inside and ducked beneath the tarp.

Clarke was sitting on a small wooden table that had been set up in the corner, staring at the fur-covered cot. There were heavy bags under her eyes that had only gotten worse since yesterday.

“Good morning, Clarke,” Lexa greeted, standing a few feet away. “Did you sleep well?”

“Fine.” Clarke’s voice was dry and cracked. Lexa frowned, stepping closer. Clarke held up a shaky hand. “I’m fine. Really. I’m just… not used to it.”

Lexa cocked her head. “Not used to what?”

“This.” Clarke waved her hand at the bed. “Having comfort, and having it all to myself. At the dropship, and even before that, I never had anything this good. Not anything that was mine.”

“If you would rather a different arrangement I would be happy to find something more suitable for you.”

“No, this is fine. It’s just different. I’ll get used to it.” Clarke looked over at Lexa for the first time since she’d stepped into the tent. “Thank you, commander. This is the most anyone’s ever done for me.”

“Of course, sweet girl.” Clarke blushed slightly at the name, eyes flickering from Lexa’s face to the ground. “And please, call me Lexa. Just when we’re alone.”

Clarke’s blush deepened and she nodded. Lexa smiled. “Come sit on the bed with me. It’s time we talked about what you will be doing.”

Lexa gave her a quick overview of the Trikru and TonDC, laying out the do’s and don’t, what was considered offensive and appropriate. The rules were laid out, also quite simple, and Clarke sat in silence, listening intently. She was determined to fit into this new environment, where she was being given a chance to start over without a neglecting parent and overbearing ‘friend,’ though being with Lexa she was beginning to realize that he was not someone she should consider under that term.

“The question I pose to you is what do you want to do?” Lexa asked. “If you want to become one of us, you will need to earn your keep. There are many ways to.”

Clarke shrugged. “I was the healer back at the dropship, and my - my mother is a doctor.”

“You are a fisa.” Lexa nodded. “We could get you set up with Nyko if you wish to continue pursuing that here.”

Clarke bit her lip, chewing on it thoughtfully. “I want to, but would that be all I would do? I don’t want to be cooped up in a hospital all day, even if it is to help people.”

Lexa rolled the word hospital over in her head a few times before she realized it meant their infirmary. “I suppose we could try and find someone willing to train you half-time. Though I warn you, it may eventually reach a point where you will be forced to choose between one or the other.”

Clarke exhaled slowly. “What are the options?”

“There are many. The most abundant are the gona, our warriors, defenders, guardsmen. I hope we will not have so many in the future now that all the clans are at peace but there are still many threats.”

“Like my people?”

“Sha, like the Skaikru. And the Maunon.” Lexa folded her hands together on her lap. “A few of the other jobs you could take around TonDC include a merchant, cook, seamstress, stonemason, and a wide array of different crafts. We’d have to teach you our language before you could find a mentor, as only the gona can speak gonasleng, but whatever you like we could find a job for.”

Clarke tapped her fingers nervously on her thigh. “Your warriors, what exactly do they do?”

Lexa cocked her head, pleasantly surprised to find the girl looking into a gona. “They do many things, some depending on how good of a fighter they are. We have guardsmen who take shifts standing at the gates, regulating trade and keeping watch for any potential threats. There are the personal guards like mine, who are assigned to a figure of power and it is their duty to keep that person defended. Some that are more adept with long-range weapons will help to hunt. If you were to take on the role of a gona, if there ever was a large conflict you would be called upon to fight.”

Clarke’s face was scrunched up in thought. “This… might be a bit much to ask, but could I be taught to fight without officially becoming a warrior?”

“That is not at all much to ask. There are many gona who only fight when called upon, and have duties as craftsmen or merchants when not required. It would be a good match if you don’t want to commit to a full-time job as a healer, and would do well to fill up your time.”

Clarke nodded. “Then that’s what I want to do.”

Lexa smiled. She was proud of Clarke despite only knowing her for, well, less than a day. She still had a strong spirit within her, one that, with the proper care, could rise to the surface and ignite. Lexa felt that learning how to stand up for herself physically was the perfect start for her. “Good. I have someone in mind who I think you would like.” Clarke smiled shyly at her and Lexa couldn’t help but grin back. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have another question to ask you.”

“What is it?”

Lexa squeezed her hands almost painfully tight. “I am only here in TonDC to deal with the Skaikru. Once a decision has been made about how to deal with them, I will be returning to the capital to rule. You don’t have to decide now, but I would ask if you’d like to accompany me to Polis and make a home there. It’s much larger, and has many more opportunities.”

“Where is it?”

Lexa dared to hope. “It’s about a four-day ride to the east. We would be going further from the ‘dropship,’ I believe you call it. If Skaikru were to cause trouble, you would be less likely to have to deal with it in Polis than here.”

Clarke nodded. “Then yes. I want to go.”

Lexa frowned. “Are you sure you don’t want more time to consider? You can decide closer to my departure.”

“I’m sure. I want to be as far away as possible.”

“Okay.” Lexa smiled shyly. “We’ll depart once Indra and I have agreed on how to handle the skai people. For now,” she stood from the bed, offering a hand down to Clarke. “Would you like to break your fast with me?”

Clarke nodded, hesitantly taking Lexa’s hand. She squeezed it tight as she led her out of the tent, releasing once back out in public.

Clarke scampered after her nervously, looking around warily. “There are so many people.”

“There are many people in the tribes, and Trikru is the most populous.” She took in Clarke’s anxious expression. “I promise that everyone here is loyal to me. You will not be harmed.” Clarke nodded.

Lexa took them into the pavilion, ignoring the elevated table meant for her and the other generals, sitting herself and Clarke down in a secluded corner after snagging two plates of food. “If you wish, I can have you start on your training after we eat.”

Clarke perked up at that. “Which one?”

“Whichever you like. It is early, so the infirmary would be slow and Nyko would have time to teach you our ways of healing. If you’d rather start the physical training, I can have your planned mentor brought in.”

“Planned mentor?”

“Yes. There is a certain person I have in mind who is adept at combat but is one of the kindest, most gentle souls I know. He looks a bit intimidating, but I think you will like him.” Lexa’s mind wandered. She hadn’t seen Indra’s son (she was still unsure of whether it was biological or adoptive) since her last checkup almost a year ago. It would be nice to catch up.

Clarke shifted, looking uncomfortable with answering. “Can I do the physical training first?”

“If that is what you want.” Lexa hated how uncomfortable Clarke seemed with making the decision herself. She wondered how long it had been since she’d been able to do so.

She would fix this broken girl. Even at the sacrifice of her heart.

Lexa was in the middle of explaining all the different weapons to Clarke when she felt her draw in closer, her breath accelerating.

She turned to see Lincoln entering the arena, still in his scout outfit. He dipped his head politely to her. “Heda.”

“Hello, Lincoln. Lovely to see you again.”

He smiled. “The pleasure’s all mine, sister.”

She felt Clarke press herself as close to Lexa’s side as she could without actually touching her, talking so quietly Lexa had to strain to hear. “He’s your brother?”

She smiled at that. “Brother in all but blood. Lincoln and I grew up together.” She looked back at her friend. “Lincoln, this is Clarke. She comes from the Skaikru, but I have agreed to accept her under my command.”

Lincoln frowned, switching to Trig. “Choumoda, Heda? Yeson yu don gaf emo in ste daun (Why, Commander? Yesterday you wanted them dead).”

She clucked her tongue, considering telling Lincoln of Clarke’s situation. She knew he could be trusted with it, but would Clarke want him to have it? Likely not. “Em laik noseim. En’s nou get yu daun (She is different. It’s not your concern).”

She changed back to English for Clarke’s sake. “Lincoln, I’d like to ask if you could help train Clarke in the ways of our warriors. She is inexperienced from her time with the Skaikru and wishes to learn.”

“I’d be happy to teach her.” He looked at Clarke, smiling politely. “Hello, Clarke.”

Clarke eyed him warily, muttering a quiet ‘hello.’

Lexa turned to her. “Clarke, this is Lincoln. He may be large, but he is very gentle and wouldn’t ever hurt you. If it’s okay with you, I’d like for him to be the one to train you. He is one of the few I trust.”

Clarke stared at him for a minute, wide-eyed and afraid, before mumbling a quiet “okay.”

Lexa smiled. “Wonderful. If you would like to begin now, I can stay for a bit longer to watch.”

Clarke nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Alright then. I’ll stay a bit longer.” She turned to her friend. “Lincoln?”

“I will train her whenever you require of me.” He dipped his head respectfully to her.

“I know you will.” Lexa gave Clarke one last smile before departing from the arena, leaning against the side railings to observe.

It was a process, but they’d push through it.

Their swords clashed with a fly of sparks.

Clarke slipped under her opponent’s sword, darting to the left and letting them stumble forward with their momentum. It only took them a second to rebalance, spinning to block Clarke’s swipe from behind.

Clarke danced back, just barely avoiding a leg aiming to knock her down. She dodged every slash and stab, keeping on the defense, never making a move. She knew that her opponent was getting frustrated.

She rolled beneath a swing at her shoulder, contorting herself to kick them in the back of the knee. It gave out and sent them to the ground.

Clarke was on her feet in an instant, driving her sword down. They twisted out of the way, lunging up and grabbing Clarke by the wrist. They began to twist and Clarke cursed aloud as she dropped her sword, lashing out with her foot and hitting them in the stomach. They lurched forward slightly before they were rising back to their feet, and Clarke looked at her sword wistfully, knowing she had no time to retrieve it. She’d have to do without.

Her opponent’s blade was coming back toward her. She smacked it away by the flat, moving closer and throwing a fist. They caught it in their free hand, a foot wrapping around her ankles and sending her flat on her back. The cold metal fell against her neck before she could move. “Set yu daun.”

Clarke put her hands above her head. “Ai giv op.”

The blade left her throat and she heard the sharp shriek of a sword being sheathed. A hand came into her vision, one which she gladly accepted. “You did well, Clarke. That’s the longest time yet.”

She preened in her mentor’s praise. “Mochof, Onya.”

“Indeed. I have no doubt you could hold your own against any esteemed warrior.” Clarke smiled widely as Lexa wandered into the arena, greeting Anya with a firm clasp and returning Clarke’s beaming smile.

Clarke smirked. “Even you?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t go quite that far.”

Clarke scoffed in mock annoyance, appreciating Lexa’s quiet laugh. At the far end of the arena, there was nobody near enough to witness their commander drop her mask in front of her mentor and companion. “Oh, don’t you get egotistical too. Anya’s already too much to handle.”

Anya grinned, pointing the end of her knife (who knows where it came from) at her. “You’re spichen right, and you’d do best to remember it.”

“Just don’t train her too well,” Lexa teased. “You might make her better than you.”

“Oh, please, I’ve learned from that mistake. You’re bad enough.” They laughed, falling into step walking side by side back toward the tower, Clarke proudly flanking her Heda’s side.

She, Lexa, and Lincoln had left TonDC to travel to Polis only a week and a half after Clarke’s arrival. The Skaikru, it was decided, were to be given clear boundaries not to cross. Guards patrolled along the river, keeping them away from the mountain and the capitol. Due to their proximity to the Mountain, there were no villages in the opposite direction and the Skaikru were forced to expand in that direction, leaving the Trikru safe for now. If they were to retaliate, the offenders would be taken prisoner and punished accordingly.

Clarke had fallen in love with Polis and its culture. Lexa, despite her many duties, took the time to teach Clarke as much as she could about the tribes, the customs and folklore, as well as their language. Trigedasleng wasn’t a hard tongue to learn, but it was harsh and took her mouth time to adjust before she could produce some of the rougher sounds.

She’d come to see Lexa as her dearest friend. Even if she was the commander, a legendary force spoken of as more goddess than human, she’d shown Clarke her other side, the side of her that had survived the burdens of leadership. Her youthful, innocent side was what a twenty-year-old should be like. She took responsibility for Clarke, not in the way Bellamy had, but in the way of a caretaker. She’d thought she loved before, but Lexa was so much more.

When Lincoln had exhausted his skills, she’d been tossed around by multiple people until Lexa convinced her to give Anya a chance. Anya was tough, but she knew what was too much, and she had also been given a very watered-down version of the blonde’s story. With knowledge of Clarke’s past, she took certain measures to make her disciple was comfortable.

She had also settled in well as a healer’s apprentice. Her foreign medical skills had proved beneficial to expanding their capabilities, though it wasn’t always easy to replicate considering they were much more underdeveloped technology-wise. She’d met many people through that apprenticeship and was very recognizable as the quiet healer; especially with how vibrant her hair was.

The most vocal opposer to her position was, of course, Titus. But nobody really cared what he had to say.

Anya split off from them in the tower, heading off to meet with the official Trikru ambassador (Both Lexa and Indra had wanted Anya to have the position, but it would be viewed as biased by the other clans) while Lexa led Clarke to her personal quarters. She called for a meal to be brought to them and they both sat down on the couch.

“Clarke,” Lexa said, her voice serious. “A letter arrived from Indra earlier today. It’s about the Skaikru.”

Clarke stiffened. Lexa reached over to tangle their hands. “She wrote that they approached the border, asking for an audience. It was granted, and Indra met with them personally. She said they’re asking for our help to survive, but don’t have anything to offer in return. She would take them in as one of her people, but they refuse, asking to stay separate from us.” Lexa tightened her grip on Clarke’s hand. “I’m telling you this not only because they are your origin, but because Indra’s asked permission to forward them to me. And I accepted.”

Clarke was silent. Lexa squeezed her hand, worried about how she was dealing but not willing to push her. After a moment, she spoke. “Who?”

“There is an Oktevia, Reivon, Montee, Jeisper, and Belomi.” Lexa heard Clarke’s breath falter, watched her eyes widen, and pleaded to the spirits it didn’t mean what she thought it did. But it did. She knew it did. So she let go of Clarke’s hand, wrapping her arm around her shoulder and tucking her into her side.

Lexa sat there rubbing her arm for a few minutes, pressing soft kisses to her hair, before muttering, “Clarke?”

She said nothing. Lexa tried again. “Sweet girl, are you alright?”

Despite her anxiety, she felt her stomach warm at the pet name. She shook mutely against Lexa’s chest. Lexa rested a hand on her cheek, kissing her temple long and slow before resting her cheek on her head. Letting Clarke work out what she needed.

It took time, but eventually, Clarke tried to talk, only to dissolve into choked coughing. Lexa didn’t falter. “Which one?”

She had to take a couple of deep breaths to reign herself in. “The last one.”

“And the others?”

Reivon - Raven, probably - she didn’t know, but the others… “Octavia and Monty were always nice to me. They tried to help when they could, but he had the support of most of the camp. They’d back him up if anyone ever challenged him.” Her mind drifted back to her two friends, smiling slightly. If there was anything she missed from her old life, it was them. “Jasper was nice, but he was too afraid to do anything about it. He would just stand there and watch.”

Lexa scowled. “He is a coward. Just as most of them are.”

Clarke nodded, remembering back to when Jasper had been speared in the chest, the panic that ensued. “On the Ark, they’re still children.”

“Branwodas,” Lexa scoffed. “Even a yongon knows right from wrong.”

Clarke shrugged. “Some of them do.”

The affection in her voice made Lexa pause. “You mean Oktevia and Montee?”

“A couple others, too, but yes.”

“Would you like me to arrange for them to meet you? I know you could seek them out yourself, but if you’d rather not risk the others…”

Clarke smiled. “I think I’d like that.”

“Then I will make it happen.” She leaned down, nuzzling her cheek. “I will be there if you need anything, and there is no one in Polis who would let anything happen to you. You will be safe.”

Clarke nodded, turning to bury her face in Lexa’s arm. She smiled softly, stroking her hair. “Thank you,” she mumbled into her skin.

“Anything for you, sweet girl.”

The day the Skaikru arrived, Clarke didn’t leave her room.

Lexa visited her the following morning. Clarke was curled up in the armchair, her sketchpad resting on her legs. She wasn’t drawing, only staring at a blank white page.

Lexa leaned down behind her, kissing her cheek. “You cannot stay here all day.”

Clarke’s voice was quiet, broken. “What if he tries to take me back?”

“He could never.” Lexa wrapped an arm around her chest. “You are so much stronger than you were. Should he try, you could shame him enough that he’d never want to see you again. You are strong.”

She could see that Clarke was still hesitant. “If it makes you feel better, I can ask Anya or Ryder to accompany you around the city.”

She bit her lip. “Please?”

“Of course.” She stood up. “Come to breakfast with me. The Skaikru won’t be there.”

Clarke nodded, tilting her head back. Lexa leaned down to kiss her on the lips, leaving it at a quick press. She heard her groan as Lexa moved over to the door, laughing. “Come enjoy breakfast and I’ll give you more.”

Clarke set her items down on the chair, not bothering to put them away properly. Lexa grinned widely at her, sharing one last short kiss before she slipped into commander mode, all emotion falling from her face. With her kohl on (all for the intent to scare the Skaikru) she was a terrifying figure, but Clarke could see through it all. Beneath all the armor and strength was her loving niron who’d taken her in without anything in it for herself, saving Clarke from a life of servitude.

But no one could know that.

Clarke had been training with Anya for the past hour, all of her worries forgotten. She was taking a quick break now, gladly accepting a pouch of water from one of the guards. She downed half of it, pouring some on her hands and rubbing her face. When she opened her eyes, she saw three familiar figures standing at the railing.

A grin threatened to split her face. Octavia, Monty, Jasper, and another girl leaned against the fence watching her. With Clarke’s attention, Octavia waved. “Hey!”

She strode over to them, forgetting to bring her sword. She and Octavia shared a hug, Monty more hesitant to show her any affection after knowing what Bellamy had done. When she opened her arms to him, he sighed in relief, happily accepting it.

“What are you doing here?” He asked. “Did they capture you?”

Shit. She’d forgotten about how much the grounders were hated within the Skaikru. “No, not at all. I ran from camp, and they brought me to their town. The commander was there, and she made sure I was comfortable.”

“The commander?” The unknown brunette said, hands twitching idly. “The scary lady can be nice?”

Clarke was tempted to tell her about their relationship but knew better. Even if it would get a hilarious reaction out of them. “I don’t know how, but she was able to tell that I came from a… less than ideal situation. She took me in, offered to bring me to Polis, and I’ve made a life here. It’s amazing. They aren’t anything like we thought they were.”

“Really?” Jasper said. “Did they apologize for spearing me in the chest?”

“They didn’t know who we were,” Clarke said. “We were unknown intruders in their land. You can’t blame them for that.”

“Then who should I blame? Myself?”

“Clarke!”

She glanced over her shoulder to see Anya in the middle of the pit, waiting impassively for her. She turned back to smile at her friends. “Sorry. I’ll talk to you more later, I promise.”

She ignored their questions and darted back over to grab her sword, standing across from Anya. Her fos unsheathed her sword, nodding over to the fence. “You ready to show off to your friends?”

She smirked. “Hell yes.”

Anya began to advance. Clarke positioned her sword defensively in front of her, body tensed, ready to move however she needed. The first attack came right at her neck, a reckless and normally outright stupid move, but this was Anya. Her other hand knocked Clarke’s sword away, leg coming up to kick her in the stomach. She grunted, stumbling back. She charged once she’d regained her senses, meeting Anya in the middle.

The loud clang of their swords reverberated throughout the pits, telling of the immense force put in by both sides. Clarke dodged a swipe at her legs, aiming a stab at Anya’s shoulder while using her free arm to grab at her opponent’s wrist. She twisted out of the way, recovering too quickly for Clarke to take advantage of her pause.

They fought for some time, Clarke gaining small cuts on her arms, her torso, her legs, even a tiny nick just below her ear. Aware of their audience, Anya went for the most impressive disarming maneuver she knew. Hooking an arm around Clarke’s hip, she used the momentum to swing her over her shoulder and slam her into the ground. Anya’s sword fell against her throat.

“Yu win au. Bilaik otaim (You win. Like always).”

Anya smirked, helping Clarke to her feet. “That is why I am teaching you. Because you aren’t as good as me.”

“Uh-huh. Show off.”

“Oh, I couldn’t help it.” Anya looked over at the fence. “You should have seen their faces.”

Clarke looked over and grinned at the awestruck expressions they wore. With Anya’s permission, she went over to them.

Octavia reached for her, pausing last second before dropping her hands to her sides. “Oh my god! That was amazing!”

Clarke blushed. “Thanks.”

“Thanks? That’s all you have to say? You just blew my fucking mind! Do you think you could teach me to do that?”

“Woah, O, slow down,” the brunette said. “Let her breathe.” She held a hand out to her. “Hey. I’m Raven. I’ve heard a lot about you from these bitches.”

“She says like she isn’t the bitchiest of us all,” Jasper said. They all laughed.

“They’re right, Clarke.” She felt a bolt of electricity go through her, stiffening all her muscles and freezing her in place. “That was impressive.”

She ground her teeth together, trying to reel in her disorganized mind. The four at the fence had quieted, heads watching him, but Clarke refused to look at him. She was afraid of what she would do.

“Look at me, Clarke.” Her first instinct was to obey. She fought against it as much as she could, struggling against her fear. “I said look at me.”

“She doesn’t answer to you, Skai boy.” She breathed a sigh of relief. Anya hovered beside her shoulder, resting a comforting hand on Clarke’s back. With her fos by her side, she risked a look.

Bellamy didn’t look any different than when she’d left him, maybe a bit more ragged. He was still the entitled, arrogant boy he’d been before, but Clarke felt her head pulse. He doesn’t own you, she thought, repeating it over and over in her head like a mantra. He doesn’t own you.

Bellamy scowled. “And who are you?”

“That’s none of your concern, and neither is my sekon.” Anya’s hand tightened on her shoulder. “We should get back to the tower, Clarke.”

“No.” She wanted to scream in frustration. Why couldn’t he just let her go? “You can’t make her go.”

“And you can’t make her stay.”

Bellamy snarled. “Just back off! Clarke, come here.”

Anya was about to retort, but Clarke raised a hand, looking Bellamy straight in the eye, blocking out her instinct. “No.”

He was taken aback. “No? You don’t tell me no, Clarke. Come here.”

Her hand went to her sword before changing her mind, instead drawing a dagger from her coat. “Make me.”

Bellamy growled, striding toward her. She knew the tactic, he’d used it on her many times before. Intimidation. Make her think he was going to do something worse than he would. She wouldn’t fall for it again. Drawing back her arm, she aimed her dagger at his throat. He paused, but continued, walking until he was only a few feet from the fence.

With a quick look at Anya, she threw the knife.

Clarke wasn’t a killer, no matter how much Bellamy deserved it. The knife struck his arm, far enough to not cause any major damage, but he went down howling. Ignoring the startled looks from everyone around, she turned and marched out of the pits. With a last scalding look, Anya followed.

Anya left the elevator a couple of floors beneath Clarke while she carried on to one of the very top floors. Pushing through the doors, she fell back against them as soon as they fell closed, clutching her chest. She’d done it. She’d resisted her captor, she’d finally escaped his hold. Before, she’d known that Bellamy still held a part of her, that she still feared his influence, but now that she’d stood up to him, she finally felt… free.

“Clarke?” She perked up, a wide grin spreading on to her face. Lexa stood in the doorway between her solar and bedchambers, looking curiously at her niron. “Did something happen?”

Her heart swelled, looking upon her lover, her savior, perhaps the most important person in her life. Her smile threatened to split her face in half. “I did it, Lex,” she breathed. “I- he tried. He tried, but I did it. I’m free.”

Lexa matched her beam, rushing toward her. They met in the middle, Lexa sweeping her up into her arms and lifting her off the ground. Clarke laughed as kisses were peppered all over her face. “I’m so proud of you, keron,” Lexa said, kissing her passionately. “You’re incredible.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she said, leaning forward to kiss her softly. “Without you, I’d still be with him.”

Lexa squeezed her tight. “I’m glad you aren’t. I’m so glad you aren’t. You don’t deserve that life. You never did.”

“And now I have a better one.” They shared bright smiles, kissing messily. Clarke leaned into her. This life was something she’d never expected to get.

Lexa’s hands pet her face, stroking her cheeks and making her groan into the kiss.

Yes; she could ask for nothing more.

#clexaweek2020 #clexaweek2020 day 7 #day 7 free day #free day #clexa fanfic #clexa deserved better #emotional abuse #physical abuse #recovery #poor clarke #lexa's a sweetheart #bellamy's a sadistic asshole

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foxy-exy · 5 years

Note

Could you write Kandrew’s first kiss??

ANON I’M AWARE THAT U PROBABLY WANTED A MORE CANON KINDA KANDREW BUT DO U KNOW HO WMUCH I LOVE THIS RAVEN KANDREW AU???? enough that I’m 150% gonna overlook thatmy prompts were closed at the time bc honestly 😉 ily and thank u for caring about kandrew withme

(also I made thisits own fic on ao3 which has gone completely ignored but that’s how the kandrew cookie crumbles)

part four of escapedraven!kandrew (one two three all here)

tw: past abusediscussion, violence

Kevin does not know ifhe can hold down the alcohol he’d inhaled in the locker room. His field ofvision has narrowed to a black and red jersey across the court. MORIYAMA 01.

Andrew cannot try tokill Riko on the court, in front of everyone. He will be arrested, he’ll neverplay again. And Kevin will be alone until he, too, is killed — it feelsinevitable, darkness all-encompassing, a catastrophic future because Kevin willnever be able to exist in a world without Riko, without this terrible dread ofimpending failure hanging over everything, they are two sides of a coin, afterall, and he is —

“Kevin.” The head ofan Exy racquet is shoved against his chest, and Kevin instinctively seizes itand looks down to — Andrew, in orange. He is wearing orange, and so is Kevin.

They are Foxes now.

Andrew’s eyes catchhis across the slope of the orange and white net. His gaze is even and cool andeverything that usually sets Kevin off about him, but tonight Andrew’s coldbrown eyes are Kevin’s anchor in a sea of black feathers.

“If Riko doesn’t beatus fairly in front of them all, it is no win,” Andrew says, and Kevin grasps atthe words desperately, but he is underwater and they drain away through asieve.

“I don’t —”

Andrew twists thehandle of the racquet, shoving it harder against Kevin’s mile-a-minuteheartbeat, his eyes narrowing as he turns in. Kevin’s mouth is dry and sour andhe is very strangely breathless.

“He won’t touch you,”Andrew reiterates, impatiently. Then, more quietly, as he lifts his chin,extended far into Kevin’s space, “But even if he tried. I promised you.”

That lands. Andrew promised. But Kevin never promised himanything in return, did he?

Yet whistles are blowing, crowds are yelling, and Andrewmust leave his side for the goal. Kevin stands alone on the court floor, andsound cuts off as the door closes, and Riko is there, staring and smiling andplaying Kevin like a puppet.

Kevin flexes his fingers, inhales, and as the buzzer sounds,brandishes his racquet — settling into its proper place like it never left — heldsecurely in his scarred left hand.

***

They win.

It’s by a single point and panic-inducing near-goals in thefinal seconds on Andrew, but they win. The only glimpse Kevin gets ofRiko is him looking blankly shocked, and then Kevin is whisked away by histeam. Riko doesn’t matter. They won.

The Foxes are screaming and celebrating as one and Kevin isloose with disbelieving relief when Andrew catches his shirt front to yank himdown. Their helmets knock together and Kevin’s jaw goes slack at the gleam inAndrew’s eyes, wild and almost…almost excited, almost…victorious.Andrew’s heavy gloved hand slides over Kevin’s left then, still clutched aroundhis racquet, and Andrew’s grip tightens as a fierce little smile flashes acrosshis face for a half a second and Kevin…

Oh, no, Kevin…

***

Kevin trails behind the others as they stream for theshowers, still chattering and happy, and catches Andrew’s sleeve. They’vediscarded gear, stripped down to underthings, and Kevin gets an unimpeded viewof Andrew’s hair waving into damp ash blond curls at his temples, sweat still beadingslightly across his forehead. He has lost the animation of earlier, theferocious triumph, just looks cool once more. Slightly tired.

Kevin does not know what to do beyond hold fast to Andrew’sarm. He swears his heartbeat has not slowed since they won, and he thinks maybeAndrew will know why, but Kevin is only just starting to comprehend the reason.

Slowly, he tugs again on Andrew’s sleeve, and Andrew letshis arm be pulled in, only a slight twitch of his jaw betraying his otherwisestony stillness.

Kevin gathers Andrew’s fingers against his chest, over hisheart, and Andrew’s face does another, stronger twitch at the frantic pace.

“I’m the wrong twin to ask if you’re looking for help with aheart condition,” is all he says, but Andrew’s voice is faux smoothness, anundercurrent of something not as calm.

“I never gave you anything in return for playing with me,”Kevin says.

Andrew looks away. “You did briefly entertain me by playinga winning game against our ex-captain with your actual playing hand.”

“Andrew.”

Andrew turns a hard glare on him and shoves at Kevin’schest, backing him into a bench. Kevin drops to the seat and knows his heartpicks back up again, knows Andrew can feel it because Kevin still hasn’t let goof his hand with his own broken, put-back-together left one.

Andrew hovers above him, a head taller now, gaze lingeringon those rippling white lines interrupting flesh, until his eyes flick toKevin’s — and they are so close — Andrew steps another pace closer, closeenough to bump his nose to Kevin’s, close enough to feel a brush of eyelash —almost close enough to taste his mouth —

“You don’t want this,” Andrew accuses in an undertone, halfa breath away. “You are doing what you think I want. This is an exchange.”

“What,” Kevin mumbles as he hovers on the edge of losinghimself, and then again, “what?” as he pulls back and replays. “No.”

Andrew stands and stares and tugs ever-so-slightly on theneck of Kevin’s undershirt. “Then what do you want, Kevin Day?”

Kevin’s scar-roped fingers seek and find the steady beat inAndrew’s chest. It, too, is too fast, thumpthumpthumpthump. Kevin canonly focus on the slight part of his lips. Andrew has been with him all thistime, protecting him, saving him, an immovable wall between Kevin andhis demons, a steady right hand as Kevin worked up the courage to return to hisleft. How could he have not seen until now?

“I’ve…I’ve wanted you for a long time, I think.”

Andrew grips fists of thin shirt and drags Kevin back tojust-barely-brushing and asks raggedly, “You think, or you know? Reallyyes?”

Kevin is impatient now. “Fucking of course I know, yes,Andrew —” and he goes to say something biting because that I think camefrom that unsure, scared part of him that pulls Kevin back, that turns Kevincoward, that does not let him reach for what he truly wants — and Andrew seemsto know this, because Andrew knows Kevin like Kevin knows the back of his handafter all this time together, and Andrew shuts Kevin up.

Andrew’s mouth is hot and Kevin is so warm and he cannotthink. Andrew stiffens under Kevin’s own curling of fingers in his shirt, pullsaway to drag Kevin’s hand away. “Don’t touch,” he hisses before capturing Kevinin a kiss again, and Kevin balls his fists in the hem of his own shirt, dizzy.

He pushes in return when Andrew nudges forward, and nearlyfalls when, just as quickly, Andrew steps back and away and someone — severalsomeones — step into the room, talking loudly. The rest of the team, askingfrom far away why they haven’t showered yet.

Andrew’s stare does not break from Kevin in his retreat backto the door leading to the showers. His lips are very pink and his breathingisn’t unaffected, for once, and Kevin feels slightly mollified with the utteruselessness of his legs right now.

He kissed Andrew Minyard. And Andrew Minyard kissed him.

And god, Kevin thinks as he wobbles to his feet tofollow after, barely nodding to puzzled teammates as he passes them by.

He wants to do it again.

(Feel free to send me more prompts!)

#kandrew #andrew minyard #kevin day #the foxhole court #all for the game #aftg #tfc #aftg fanfic #tfc fanfic #all for the game fanfic #the foxhole court fanfic #fanfic #anonymous #kay answers #kay fanfic #ficlet #kaystuff

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laulink · 5 years

Text

@thekeenbouquetcrown

Excuse me … is that I am really so angry about the state of Whiterose … they literally have not had 2 minutes of interaction and the whole development is in the Bumbleby (I do not hate the ship … but fuck are already always in screen) it is as if the development of Weiss and Ruby in Vol 5 and 6 did not exist (which in Vol 6 they both developed more) to see that now they want to pair her with Jaune gave me a terrible disgust … honestly Miles and Kerry always hated the WR and it shows

(For context, this is because of a response to a post I made about Weiss going to the movies with Jaune and Oscar, OP was upset she didn’t spend time with Ruby instead and that the Weiss and Jaune ship seemed to be pushed, though the post itself was not shippy)

Okay, so. I understand your frustration as a Whiterose shipper. I am a Monochrome shipper and am also disappointed that Weiss and Blake haven’t gotten any real talk yet this volume (the one in the mines was one-sided so it doesn’t count) even though the one thing the SDC and Atlas in general have been known for since the early volumes of the series was their racism toward Faunus. It’s been 6 eps spent in Atlas and, apart from the drunk guy in episode 1, we haven’t gotten anything about said racism, despite knowing already two Faunus who suffered because of it, namely Adam and Ilia, who Blake know very well and should therefore probably be more concerned about this issue. Anyway.

Your message made me want to go a bit into why I think Whiterose hasn’t gotten development this volume and very little in the past two as well (they had some cute interactions, but you can’t call that development as it is more of a “their interactions are cute” and less of a “they’re learning new things about each other, see each other in a new light” like it was in volumes 1 to 3). But I first want to point out that I don’t think the writers intend to pair Weiss with Jaune, at least in a romantic way. I also don’t think they hate Whiterose and see no reason to believe otherwise. The pair had great development in volumes 1 to 3, when the girls had to get to know each other, and they are comfortable with each other since their reunion. This pair not being portrayed as romantic does not mean that the writers hate it, just that they want to go other ways with the characters or to develop them through other means than romance. But I’ll get to that in a bit.

First off... I think the way characters and their relationships are handled and decided is all a matter of character arcs and stories. To summarise, I think that specific characters in RWBY were made to show specific development and do not get other forms of development. Yang’s development over the volumes is all about what doesn’t kill her makes her stronger and how she evolves after facing a hardship. Linked to that is her abandonment by her mother and her fight against Adam. She overcame both traumas by letting go of her mother, getting attached to other people who will not leave her like Raven did, and by learning from her mistakes to outsmart Adam and beat him. Jaune’s development is about how he starts as an incompetent and filled with doubt noodle and becomes a reliable warrior and leader. His relationships with Weiss and Pyrrha are linked to this as well : he didn’t know any better than heavily flirting with Weiss when he came to Beacon and did not notice Pyrrha’s feelings. Then he started to grow up, be more serious about his studies, gave up on Weiss, realised Pyrrha’s feelings... and lost her, which forced him to mature faster, but did not change the course of his character arc. Blake’s development is about her escaping an abusive and toxic relationship, then reclaiming her life, will, bravery and organisation -basically taking back everything that was stolen from her by her ex- and finding true love in someone who will not abuse her like Adam did. The White Fang part of this development is sorta halted at the moment, but hopefully it won’t be for much longer.

Weiss’ story line is very similar to Blake’s in how it is about escaping abuse, overcoming the impacts it had on her life and the way she manages it and creating relationships to replace the toxic ones. But, in her case, her toxic relationships are the ones she has with some members of her family. Therefore, the relationships she has to create to replace them, and, as a consequence, the relationships she focuses on, are familial ones. Weiss needs to create her own supportive and loving family to help her heal from her father’s abuse and make peace with what she went through before she can focus on something else. Because her character is about family and how her father’s abuse shaped her life for so long that she, sometimes, barely remember who she is, like the Mirror set of songs show, so for now there is no place for romance. Maybe that will change after the Atlas arc is over and they move to Vacuo, but by the time that happens and Weiss can start thinking of romance, something else can come in the way of Whiterose :

Penny Polendina. She has been considered dead for 3 volumes, but now she is back and Ruby has already made it clear that she cares a great deal about Penny and goes out of her way to spend time with her (see, episode 6, going to Robyn’s rally mainly because Penny will be there on a security job). I think the next couple of episodes are going to define the way the potential “triangle” with Ruby, Weiss and Penny might go. After the trauma Penny suffered, the way she will face it and Ruby’s role in it might be indicators as to how their relationship will grow. If it takes a turn to go down the romantic road, Whiterose will be dead. Even if Penny doesn’t follow Ruby in Vacuo or is torn to shreds again, she will be Ruby’s love interest and no one is going to take that spot, not so far into the series, not with everything else going on. If such a turn doesn’t happen though, Whiterose will still stand a chance, but will need to wait for Weiss to be in a better place mentally speaking to really get the needed development.

I think the romantic road for Nuts and Dolts is very likely. So far in volume 7, we’ve had two songs mentioning love : the opening, literally named “Trust in Love”, and the Renora song from episode 6. Penny is shown over romantic lines of both of these songs, in the opening in a typical “anime love interest” shot and in episode 6 Ruby and her are looking at each other, smiling. Subtle hints, but there have been some of these for Bumblebee and none for Whiterose, so I think there’s a good chance this will be relevant.

Sooo... yeah, Whiterose might not become canon, but that doesn’t mean that the writers hate the ship, just that they want to develop Ruby and Weiss in different ways and through different means. And Weiss wanting to get away from her teammates’ flirting by latching onto the first activity offer that is not “go to the victory rally of your father’s opponent where everyone will hate you for your name” does not mean that she’s suddenly going to fall in love with Jaune, especially since it won’t be a one on one date but a three people outing with Oscar in the middle.

#rwby #rwby7 #rwby volume 7 #rwby spoilers #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #jaune arc #nora valkyrie #lie ren #oscar pine #whiterose #bumblebee #bumbleby #renora #arkos

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caracalfeather · 4 years

Text

WARNING- Cats and Birds is a mob AU fanfiction of the Arcana game, and is not meant for young audiences and is not meant to offend anyone. Some writing choices were made so characters are out of their canon way of acting and thinking. Please do not be offended by character choices made by the authors and content creators, this story was made for fun and in the way we wanted it to be. The story was not hijacked by any of the authors to make any ships or characters overshadow any other. All content contained in this story has been agreed upon and accepted by all parties in it’s creation.

TW- Cats and Birds contains scenes that may not be suitable with some readers, including themes of violence, smoking/drug use, sex, cursing and various other strong themes. Special warnings for scenes will be posted with chapters. Proceed with caution and Reader’s discretion is advised.

Months past, and after everything was said and done Lyra called Rose from out in the park which separated the shop from her apartment.

“I figured you’d call.” Rose chuckled. She was in a car, music playing behind her.

Lyra laughed on the other end, “how did you know it was me?”

“I have your number saved in my phone.” She smiled “What’s up?”

“Well...I thought you’d like to know that Julian and I are getting married.” She smiled, “I wanted to invite you to the wedding. If you have the time.”

“I'm actually going to spain…” Rose sighed “So i don't think i can...”

“Really?” She frowned, “that’s a shame, Julian really wanted you to come.”

“I know…Alright. I'll try to make it.” Rose chuckled

“You better.” Lyra chuckled,”otherwise Madeve is going to throw a fit”

Rose laughed “Noted. I have to go.. Be Careful….okay?”

“I will.” She sighed, “have fun in Spain, oh and if you visit France….please don’t look me up.”

Rose Laughed “Trust me. Neither of us wants to go that deep in history. I'll see you later lyra.” with a chuckle, she hung up.

Lyra smiled and looked up at the clouds coming in. She retreated back into her apartment and sat out on the fire escape with Madeve.

A few more weeks passed, and surprisingly, Rose showed up. She stood at the back during the beautiful ceremony, trying to look a little happy for them.

Lyra and Julian were both in tears. They could hardly say their vows without breaking down. They had both wanted this to happen for so long and now that it was. It was just so surreal. The park between their home and their little shop was the perfect place to host it. They couldn’t have asked for better weather. As the vows were said and the official kiss was shared Julian and Lyra turned to their friends, new and old. Lyra caught sight of Rose first and her smile got brighter as she waved to her slightly, just before Julian swept her off her feet and down the aisle.

Rose couldny help but chuckle at the sight. He was finally happy, thank the gods. She followed the crowd to the reception, staying back to watch everyone party. She hadn't planned on staying long, she had business to take care of.

Julian stood next to her, “you made it after all.”

“Yeah. Lyra called and convinced me to think about everything. So I decided to show up.’’ She looked at the beautiful bride and leaned against the wall “...Finally made the right choice on who to marry.”

Julian shook his head. “I should’ve done it 7 years ago.” He turned to her, “you never answered my question...so I’m going to ask again. Are you pregnant?”

She sighed and glanced at him “...I was.” She left it at that, turning away.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, “oh gods Rose I’m so sorry.”

“Don't pity me.” Rose moved his hand away and looked at him “And...only one died, if that's what you thought.”

Julian’s eyes flashed, “one? Oh wow….if there’s anything that Lyra and I can do...we would be more than happy to help.”

“I'll remember that.. But for right now, you need to focus on being a good husband for her.” Rose looked at him “You were shitty to me. And I was shitty to you. Do not hide shit from her ilya, it only hurts people. And she doesn't deserve to be treated the way I was.”

“You’re right.” Julian sighed, “still it’s exciting knowing that I’m a father. Anyways...you deserve happiness Rose. I hope you’re finding it in Spain, and with our child.”

Lyra came running over, practically tripping over her skirts, she laughed and opened her arms to hug Rose. “I’m so glad you could come!!”

“I'm glad i could too! You're so beautiful.” Rose hugged her back and sighed “I'm afraid I can't stay long, I have business to attend to outside town.”

“Well thank you for coming regardless!” She smiled, Soren, one of the men in Julian’s mob who was now living life in Spain, ran over to Lyra seeing her trip. He grabbed her by the shoulder and examined her, “Lyra Honey! Are you ok?!? Your hem didn’t tear did it? Your hair looks good,” he circled her muttering to himself before approving Lyra with a nod. “You’re fine sweetie. Pretty as a Princess.” Swing Rose his smile changed to a smirk as he flared out his cape. “Well, Well...long time no see Kitten.”

“Don't make me cut your throat Soren. You know not to call me that.” Rose huffed and crossed her arms “...Plume says hello by the way. He figured you’d be here.”

“Of course I’m here honey.” Sorren smiled, gesturing to Julian and Lyra with a proud smile, “who else was going to make these two look fabulous on their big day. And for the last time.”

Lyra blushes and Julian laughed. Before returning to the guests Soren frowned at Rose. “Hey if you see that asshole of a brother of mine anytime soon tell him to come see me. I miss seeing my stupid twin’s dark himbo face everyday.”

Rose laughed and nodded “Will do. He’s pretty happy from what I hear.” She looked after Lyra and Julian with a soft sigh “Well.. I have to go.” Without a goodbye, she disappeared. She had things to do.

Later that night, a storm had started, making the rain pour hard. Outside, someone buzzed the newlywed’s apartment, camouflaged in the night rain. No one could have guessed that the cat was still there. After one final look at the bundle, she ran off.

After a few long hours of lovemaking the storm rolled in. Lyra was cowering against Julian as the storm raged on he lifted his head from the fort he constructed in the bedroom.

“Who the hell is out in this weather?”

Lyra clung to him, “please don’t leave.”

He hushed her and kissed her forehead. “I’ll only be a minute my sapphire.”

Actually putting on some pants he went out the building, searching the doorway for whoever interrupted their night of peace.

The basket was barely noticeable in the night, all you could see was the dark green bundle, holding a tiny whining little girl and the note on her blanket. The wind howled with her whines.

Julian cursed under his breath, he picked up the note and opened it. Sitting down on the steps as he pulled the little angel close.

“Ilya. No child should have to live the life we did. Please. Take care of our little girl. Her name is Vela. After the stars.~ R” it read. Vela nuzzled into his warm chest. She looked exactly like ilya, with a mix of light auburn curls.

He looked down at her with a smile, “Rose you sly cat. She is perfect.” Julian stood up and went back to his home.

Lyra was very excited to have Vela. Rose gave her the one thing she could never have. As soon as Julian explained Lyra welcomed Vela into her arms as if she were her own. And the storm...didn’t bother her for the rest of the night. They just sat in silence, the three of them, today had been the greatest day of their lives. It was only the beginning of the great future The Raven and his Songbird always wanted.

End

Years later

Spain was peaceful compared to the streets of LA. Rose sat on a balcony, sipping some coffee as one of her men, Vice, came to stand next to her. “So. We have the plan set in motion. We just need someone who can do the job.” Rose sighed, setting down her cup “Well i cant call plume, and Naga is busy…” Vice handed her a piece of paper “If i may… We could always employ him again.” Rose was quiet, examining the text and photo in hands before smiling “Vice. Get my phone. We have a bird to find.”

Miles away, out of sight and out of mind. The cell phone of an old friend rang. Looking over his shoulder at his wife he ducked into the kitchen.

“Whatever you want, it doesn’t concern me. The Black Raven is out of commission.”

Rose chucked into the receiver “Oh come on old friend. Is that any way to greet The Queen of spain?” she shited the phone slightly, sitting down “But really…. We need the Raven back. Immediately.”

#the arcane game #arcana apprentice #the arcana #the arcane julian #julian devorak #arcana #the arcane mc #the arcana julian #rose sagenea #rose the apprentice #lyra the apprentice #mob au #cats and birds

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