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Aug. 10th, 2007

Some of my Victor character claims over at x_men100. I should have just claimed Victor/Raven for my set. She just kind of pops into the majority of the prompts without asking. Posting from most recent to oldest. They're kinda long, so I'll probably make different posts for them.

Title: #35 Bitterness
Character(s): Victor/Raven
Challenge Set: Alpha
Rating: PG-13ish for language
Words: 1100
'Verse: Supposedly 616. No set time frame.
Notes: I think I had orignally wanted this one to go on longer, but it fizzled out right where it ends.

Victor woke up in stages. The first thing he noticed was that his head felt as if somebody had taken a sledgehammer to it. The second thing he noticed was that he was chained to a bed by industrial strength handcuffs. He frowned and jerked his arms, wincing as still healing muscles protested.

“Good, you’re awake.” His vision was trying to clear, but he could make out a blurry Raven to his left.

“What happened?” The back of his mouth felt like somebody had stuffed cotton down his throat. Experience told him that he had been drugged, but he didn’t know who had done it.

The mattress dipped slightly as Raven sat down next to him, her hip warm at his side. She reached out and brushed a few hairs out of his eyes. “What’s the last thing you remember?” she asked.

“Getting my ass thrown through a few feet of concrete. Why the hell am I locked up?” The last was said with a growl, his arms straining to test the cuffs.

“Don’t bother, they’re not going to break.” She inhaled sharply and crossed her arms over her chest. “You went nutso on me. Killing the scientists was not part of Erik’s plans and you knew that. I had to take you down.”

“What the hell did you shoot me with?” The back of his neck burned like crazy, and he itched to rub his hand against the ache.

“Mild sedative.” At his raised eyebrow, she shrugged unapologetically. “Well, mild enough for you.” She pushed some hair over her shoulder; she was still a brunette. For tonight’s heist she had chosen to have milky pale skin and impossibly big baby blue eyes. She never went for blonde when she worked with him, and for that Victor was grateful. It brought back too many memories of a time when they could have been happy, just the two of them. Then she had to go and ruin it by hiding the fact that she was carrying his son and then running out on him soon after.

Ignoring the tiny pang of nostalgia, Victor rattled the handcuffs again. “Get these off of me, Mystique.” The use of her codename should have been warning enough for her, but she shook her head.

“Not before I know what kind of mood you’re in.”

“Fucking pissed off, if you couldn’t tell.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s what I thought. No, those are staying on until you calm down.” She rearranged herself on the bed, as if getting comfortable for a long sit-in.

“How bad are you hurt?” Her question caught him off guard, especially since she asked it in a tone of voice so low he wasn’t sure she actually said it.

“Healing. Goddamn sedative slowed down the process.”

“It’s your own damn fault. Tell me Creed, did you have any clue as to who were the bad guys and who were on your side? I for one didn’t want to wind up on the receiving end of your claws without doing something to deserve them.”

“You’re on your way right now.”

“What set you off? The lab? The scientists? I hope those poor bastards had dental records, because that’s the only way they’re going to get identified after what you did to them.” He had to give her credit, her eyes never once softened with anything that looked like pity. Honestly, he didn’t know what had set him off that time. They were just there and he had wanted to kill them, orders from Magneto be damned.

She must not have been expecting an answer, because she huffed and glared at him. “You fucked up. We almost lost the information we had gone in there for to begin with because we had to haul you out. This was my mission and you ignored direct orders.” She poked at his chest with a finger. “Next time you go psycho, I leave your ass behind for them to do whatever they want with you.”

He snorted. “Yeah, like you would. You think that I wouldn’t hesitate to tell them everything I know about you?”

She laughed. “Oh, you’re saying that the big, bad Sabretooth would cave to a little questioning? You have more pride for yourself than that.” She ran a finger down the side of his face, stopping shy of his lips.

“No, I’m saying it’s too much of a risk to leave any of us behind and you know it.” He gave her an evil grin. “Besides, if you did, I’d just hunt you down later on.”

Raven leaned forward and kissed his chin. “Bullshit. You may be a mean, arrogant son of a bitch, but you’re not an informant.”

He dipped his head and kissed her hard. “One betrayal for another, babe. It all evens out in the end.” He almost regretted the look of hurt that briefly flittered across her face. It was there one second, gone the next, her features smoothed out in a mask of indifference.

“You’ll never forgive me for that, will you, Victor?” she asked, switching languages from English to German. “Tell me, did you love me then?” Brunette hair shifted to blonde. “When I was like this?” She gave him a mean smirk when she saw his eyes darken.

“Cut it out, Darkholme. You know I don’t like it when you pull this kind of shit.”

She laughed again, moving so she could straddle his chest. “Oh, but this isn’t about what you like, Creed,” she told him, her fingers finding the hidden fastenings of his suit. She leaned down so her lips were at his ear. “It’s always about what you like. Not this time.”

“I’m gonna kill you one of these days.” He was angry, but he was also turned on. He pulled at his handcuffs again, hoping that he could at least break the headboard he was attached to. He didn’t know if he wanted a hand free to snap her neck or drag her down for a kiss. Maybe both.

Long fingers ran through his chest hair. “No, no you aren’t. If you were going to kill me, you would have done it already.” She sat up and pulled the white tank top she was wearing over her head. He stared at her breasts, then at her face. Her eyes flashed angrily at him.

“Maybe I keep you around for the sex.”

She shrugged. “Works for me.” She spread the top portion of his suit open and licked a line from sternum to chin. “At least that’s what I keep you around for.”

Title: #50 Change
Theme set: Alpha
Characters: Sabretooth/Mystique
Words: 1,282
Rating: PG-13ish for language
‘Verse: a slight step to the left of 616. It was supposed to go in with Uncanny #379-380’s run of universal de-powering of mutants, but then when I re-read those issues, I realized that Raven in jail just totally threw my idea’s plot off track. So, slightly AU from canon we go.

The bar was one that he liked - dirty enough that tourists knew to stay out, loud live music in the front, and cold beers served by a bartender that didn’t tell him when he had reached his limit. It felt strange to start feeling a slight buzz at only four instead of the quantity he was used to downing. A slight change from the norm.

All because of this damn depowering thing, whatever the hell it is, he mused, throat working as he swallowed the last bit of his drink. He slammed down the mug a little harder than he had intended to, making the little bowl of mini pretzels jump on the scarred table in front of him. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the muscles slowly unwind in time with the music coming out from scratchy speakers. A few days ago and it would have grated on his too sensitive ears. Now, it still grated on his hearing, but at a bearable level. Gesturing for the bartender to bring him another round, he dug around in his jacket pockets for a smoke.

“Those things are going to kill you one of these days,” a woman said, plunking his new drink down. He looked up, gave her a brief once-over. Nice looking girl, all legs and breasts with a shock of auburn hair falling out of a messy ponytail. Her white halter top and low riding jeans looked different against her fair skin, just yet another slight change from the norm.

“We’re all going to die sooner or later,” he drawled, lighting up. “might as well pick the way I want to go.”

The chair in front of him scraped against the concrete floor as she sat down. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Never stopped you before.” He pushed the bowl of pretzels towards her. “Thought you got yourself arrested.”

She smirked. “Briefly. They’re still looking for me two states over.”

He eyed her scraped wrists. “You never were that good at getting out of cuffs cleanly.”

She shrugged, turning her arm so the numerous bangles she wore settled over her injuries. “That was because I rarely got the chance to practice. You were the one that liked being tied up, if I recall correctly.”

He laughed, taking a sip of his beer. He decided to go slow, to make the pleasant spin of the room last as long as it possibly could. In the past, it had always faded way too fast to actually enjoy it. “So this what you’re really supposed to look like?”

She nodded, tilting her head so her hair spilled over a shoulder. “Yeah. That what you’re supposed to look like?”

He raised his hand, showing her the jagged ends of his fingernails. “Hurt like a bitch when they broke. You have freckles on your shoulders.”

“You should file those down.” Her eyes - they were a honeyed amber color, he decided - danced with unspoken humor. He bet she was probably thinking about him sitting down for a complete manicure or something along the lines. “And what dull canines you have, grandma.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “Daddy didn’t pull those out daily for nothing, you know. You miss it?” He took another drink. “Not that you look bad now,” he amended. He stared hard and realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. It made him wonder just what else she wasn’t wearing.

“I’d be lying if I said no.” She reached over and popped a pretzel in her mouth. “You?”

“Never really used them much.”

“Liar. You probably used them more than I used mine.”

“Seriously doubt it.”

“Then tell me what those guys at the pool table are saying, and when the last time the one on the right had a bath.”

He squinted in the direction of the men, then swore under his breath. If anything, it was getting used to feeling normal that was the hardest. How the hell did everyone else on the planet live, not being able to pick out a conversation or catching a smell out of thousands? It felt like somebody had muffled his senses, which was something that he didn’t like at all.

“You’re not going to admit it, are you?” she quietly asked, chewing thoughtfully.

“Hell no.”

She gave him one of her smiles that said she knew more than she was letting on and reached over for his pack of cigarettes. “So what are you going to do now?”

“Don’t know. Probably sit and wait.”

A wreath of grey smoke settled over her head. “You think he’s going to show?”

“I know he is. Little bastard’s dying of adamantium poisoning; he’s going to want to take a final shot at me before he goes belly up.” He took another gulp of beer, noting that he probably shouldn’t have knocked his head back as sharply as he had when the room spun in an all too unpleasant manner. “This is one of those rare times I’m glad I wasn’t picked for that damn experiment.”

“With your luck, he’s going to die before he even gets to you.”

He shrugged again, grinding out the stub of his cigarette in the crowded ashtray at his elbow. “If it happens, it happens. No skin off my nose. The runt’s the one with the grudge, not me. I just like yanking his chain, is all.”

“You’re one sick man, you know?”

He gave her one of his grins that would have been more effective if his canines were still razor sharp. “One of my more endearing traits, darlin.”

She laughed, leaning her elbows against the table. “One of your very few, you mean.” He nodded, then the two of them lapsed into a companionable silence. Sure, they didn’t trust the other at all, but there in that dirty little dive bar in the middle of nowhere, there was someone that had known them before everything had changed.

“So,” he drawled, rolling his empty mug between his palms. “Name’s Victor.”

She cocked her head to the side, as if not knowing just what to make of him. Maybe this change would be for the better, or at least for a while. She knew that before long things would revert back to normal. It made something inside her twist painfully, made her feel old and tired for staying on this particular emotional merry-go-round even though she knew she should have jumped off a long time ago. She just couldn’t get herself to do it though. “Raven,” she finally said.

“Raven.” He liked it. Just another small shift from the norm. He had figured she would have wanted him to call her Darkholme, just like he had always done when they were alone.

She couldn’t stop how her heart sped up at the sound of his voice, but for the first time since she had known him, she knew he couldn’t immediately pick up on it. “Hey Victor,” she asked, her voice husky. “What does a girl have to do to get you to buy her a drink?”

He smiled at her, even though he knew that what they had wouldn’t last for long. It never did, no matter how long or how hard they worked at it. Why he didn’t just walk away from her was beyond him. Maybe some small part of him really wished that one of these days they would stay together, though he’d never admit that out loud to anyone. Maybe with all these small changes and shifts from the norm, this time might work out. Maybe, just maybe. “Not much,” he answered. “All you had to do was ask.”
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