niceandfluffy2 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
niceandfluffy2) wrote2009-08-31 10:17 pm
niceandfluffy2) wrote2009-08-31 10:17 pm
FIC: Promises: Short Circuit (18/?) Part B
Part B - somewhere in Victor's head
*
He couldn’t move his arms or legs. Victor lifted his head but something strong was gripping him around the neck, forcing him to stay in one spot. He panted, then tried to shake his body. It failed to respond to him. His claws were useless, his strength was useless, and nothing was right. His senses were confused, telling him of presences he knew weren’t there, or scents conflicting with information his eyes were telling him. At one stage he had been struck by the scent of Wade’s blood, but that had been over in a mere second. At others he could sense Jimmy close, but his brother was always just out of his grasp. Was that intentional? He didn’t know. The only thing he knew now was the darkness.
Victor snarled helplessly and pulled again, as hard as he could. Nothing. He stared around him, waiting for the men he had killed again and again and *kept coming back*. Wade would have said that was overkill and getting boring, but Victor couldn’t fight the need to destroy every single last one of them, regardless of the fact he knew something was fucked up. Men died. They bled. They screamed. The normal human body was a delicate thing indeed. They didn’t keep coming back, over and over, whispering their thoughts and deeds to him. There was no longer any satisfaction in slamming his claws through them anymore, simply the desperation to get them away from him long enough for him to recover his mind.
He knew they didn’t exist, but seemed powerless to escape its hold. His personal reality and the world’s seemed to have parted company a long time ago, and although the images were slowly becoming less frequent he still couldn’t manage to break out from the unfair hold they had over him.
The men of his youth hadn’t been the only ones who had appeared to him, which had partly been the reason why he had been so confident in his assertion. Scenes came to him but many had never been real, often a simple daydream or lustful thought which had passed his way over the years mixing in with other visions of truthful if sometimes embarrassing situations.
Victor had noticed that the visions had gone from the alarming to the comforting, which he assumed meant that whatever was happening was trying to wind down. His lip curled, and his eyes flashed with a murderous anger. If they were hoping that showing him tender moments between himself and his brother would somehow calm him down, they were in for a seriously vicious shock. The only thing he now cared about was the ability to look deep into their eyes before he slid his claws deep into their midsection and yank out their inner workings. It wasn’t just the capture that angered him, but the knowledge that they would have all of the details of the private moments that were his own business, no one else’s:
Here was the memory of being on the battlefield, his uniform half torn off his chest from a direct hit from a cannon and Jimmy hugging him tight as they waited for the worst of the damage to heal.
Here was the lustful daydream he had had when he had first seen his younger brother in uniform, Jimmy sliding his palm over his body as he tested how loose the material was in order to loot from the battlefield. What Jimmy hadn’t realised was how tight the fabric pressed against his rear when he did so, clinging to his buttocks and thighs as he so innocently asked his elder brother whether he thought it was going to be enough for their purposes. The daydream had taken that thought and altered it, allowing Victor the pleasure of taking it further; the way his own palm would slide over the material before creeping over the belt and slipping underneath it to touch the smooth, hot flesh. He had imagined the wide eyed, surprised look that his brother would give him before Jimmy would ultimately agree to properly ‘test’ the clothing and end up, half naked and trembling, sitting on Victor’s lap with Victor’s hard erection buried deep in his virgin channel. The image of Jimmy’s head tipped back was beautiful, his throat exposed and his dark hair draping over his features as they rocked together, his brother panting out his lust.
Here was the memory of Wade turning up at his door at Team X, dressed in hot pink lace knickers, tight stockings that encased his smooth, surprisingly pretty legs, high heels, and wearing bright red lipstick that Wade had managed to paint on disturbingly accurately. Victor had yanked him into the room so quickly that Wade’s feet had momentarily lost contact with the floor, slamming the door swiftly to avoid the others in the team ever seeing that particular sight and assuming things about Victor’s personal tastes. The younger man had spent the whole damned evening talking in a soft, phone-sex voice that purred depraved suggestions as Wade performed a little dance to show off his rear to its best advantage. Victor hadn’t known what had been worse; the fact that Wade was pretty damned good at his feminine impression, or the fact that Victor’s groin had appreciated it much more than Victor had ever wanted to admit. Wade had ended up face down on the bed, his expensive knickers around his ankles as Victor had fucked him into next week.
Here was the daydream of taking full command over Team X, one that often turned up whenever Stryker had once again failed to take something further, and one that always managed to make Victor throb harder than ever at the freedom that it would give them. He could imagine the fights and the blood already, finding better profits as they seized the position in the world that they truly deserved.
Here was the memory of ‘Logan’ showering after a long mission in the desert, trying to rid himself of the sand that seemed to be stuck to him. Jimmy had spent a good month trying to prove he didn’t need Victor’s help, that he was no longer a child, and finally had to admit defeat in scrubbing his own back. The embarrassed, sulky expression that had turned to him as the man asked for assistance had been exactly the look in his brother’s eyes that Victor had imagined when he would ask to enter Victor’s bed. In the end, Victor’s own impatience had ruined that situation, but he knew that would have been the look he would have received had it gone to plan. And fuck, was it beautiful.
Here was the memory of Wade tied to the wall with iron shackles, long before his experiments had been done; blood had trickled down his chest in little streams of colour from the slash wounds that Victor had inflicted, and yet all the other man had done was laugh and ask for more. The scents of blood and lust mixing in such a small room had been so intoxicating that Victor was amazed he remembered it at all.
Over and over, again and again, the little memories both true and false whispered to him. Of gentle touches from his brother, their purrs mingling in the darkness. Of cheerful banter with Wade, followed either by a fight or a fuck. Of blood, wet on his hands. Of deaths by his claws, the satisfaction burning through him. So many good things, but nothing that would alter his mind. They had made him vulnerable, and for that he would take a long, bloody revenge.
For a long time nothing spoke and nothing moved. He was alone in the darkness, barely conscious of anything other than the rasping sound of his own breathing. Victor bared his teeth, snarling in sheer anger. He had fought too long and hard for this weakness to happen, and yet his body still refused to obey his orders.
And then, finally, something happened.
“Can you hear me?”
The voice seemingly came out of nowhere, soft and strained. Victor’s head lifted sharply as he tried to sense where the man stood. There were too many mixed signals for him to identify, and none of them seemed correct. He *knew* that voice. It was not a voice he really wanted to hear, but it could have been worse.
Victor snarled and tried to move away again but it was refusing to let him. He growled softly.
“Where are you?”
“I am here. You cannot see me?” the soft voice had picked up the Cajun accent that Victor had been expecting. His eyes studied the room that he could see, and then he grunted dismissively.
“No.”
“I am next to you. Can you feel this?”
Victor waited, but nothing happened. On the other hand, his whole body seemed to be asleep, none of his nerves properly working. He growled again. The Cajun was playing his tricks again.
“No. And why is there a smell of burned flesh?”
“Dat does not matter,”
“I disagree,” Victor shifted, and failed to get anywhere again. He growled helplessly. “I can’t move,”
“You have been shot with some sort of dart, and have shackles on your limbs and neck.” The soft voice supplied helpfully. Victor snarled.
“Well, *get it off*,”
“I cannot.”
“Fuck that. You can blow things up. Do it,”
“It will not work,”
“Try it.” Victor ground out through gritted teeth, his frustration and discomfort clashing badly with his inability to move.
“No. I am not able to move my hands.” came the soft voice, almost reprovingly. Victor stared into the darkness.
“If you can’t move your hands, exactly what were you using to touch me?” he said dangerously. There was a soft noise of amusement.
“Nothing too bad,”
Victor snarled again, not wanting to think of what else the man was going to poke him with. On the other hand, LeBeau’s presence was a nod to the outside world, a world that was surviving without Victor’s interaction. Bastards.
“Where’s Jimmy?” he demanded.
“Logan? I don’t know. Sounds like he and Wade escaped.”
Victor’s mouth curled upwards in a smirk. You never pissed off Jimmy and turned your back on him; that was just asking for a massacre. He would get control over his body and he and Jimmy would act as one once again in their joint anger against the base. Oh yeah. The future might not be as bleak as it appeared. All their enemies had to do was assume a few things and Victor would seize the opportunity to paint the base with their enemies’ blood.
Now that was a thought that beat the nightmares.
TBC
*
He couldn’t move his arms or legs. Victor lifted his head but something strong was gripping him around the neck, forcing him to stay in one spot. He panted, then tried to shake his body. It failed to respond to him. His claws were useless, his strength was useless, and nothing was right. His senses were confused, telling him of presences he knew weren’t there, or scents conflicting with information his eyes were telling him. At one stage he had been struck by the scent of Wade’s blood, but that had been over in a mere second. At others he could sense Jimmy close, but his brother was always just out of his grasp. Was that intentional? He didn’t know. The only thing he knew now was the darkness.
Victor snarled helplessly and pulled again, as hard as he could. Nothing. He stared around him, waiting for the men he had killed again and again and *kept coming back*. Wade would have said that was overkill and getting boring, but Victor couldn’t fight the need to destroy every single last one of them, regardless of the fact he knew something was fucked up. Men died. They bled. They screamed. The normal human body was a delicate thing indeed. They didn’t keep coming back, over and over, whispering their thoughts and deeds to him. There was no longer any satisfaction in slamming his claws through them anymore, simply the desperation to get them away from him long enough for him to recover his mind.
He knew they didn’t exist, but seemed powerless to escape its hold. His personal reality and the world’s seemed to have parted company a long time ago, and although the images were slowly becoming less frequent he still couldn’t manage to break out from the unfair hold they had over him.
The men of his youth hadn’t been the only ones who had appeared to him, which had partly been the reason why he had been so confident in his assertion. Scenes came to him but many had never been real, often a simple daydream or lustful thought which had passed his way over the years mixing in with other visions of truthful if sometimes embarrassing situations.
Victor had noticed that the visions had gone from the alarming to the comforting, which he assumed meant that whatever was happening was trying to wind down. His lip curled, and his eyes flashed with a murderous anger. If they were hoping that showing him tender moments between himself and his brother would somehow calm him down, they were in for a seriously vicious shock. The only thing he now cared about was the ability to look deep into their eyes before he slid his claws deep into their midsection and yank out their inner workings. It wasn’t just the capture that angered him, but the knowledge that they would have all of the details of the private moments that were his own business, no one else’s:
Here was the memory of being on the battlefield, his uniform half torn off his chest from a direct hit from a cannon and Jimmy hugging him tight as they waited for the worst of the damage to heal.
Here was the lustful daydream he had had when he had first seen his younger brother in uniform, Jimmy sliding his palm over his body as he tested how loose the material was in order to loot from the battlefield. What Jimmy hadn’t realised was how tight the fabric pressed against his rear when he did so, clinging to his buttocks and thighs as he so innocently asked his elder brother whether he thought it was going to be enough for their purposes. The daydream had taken that thought and altered it, allowing Victor the pleasure of taking it further; the way his own palm would slide over the material before creeping over the belt and slipping underneath it to touch the smooth, hot flesh. He had imagined the wide eyed, surprised look that his brother would give him before Jimmy would ultimately agree to properly ‘test’ the clothing and end up, half naked and trembling, sitting on Victor’s lap with Victor’s hard erection buried deep in his virgin channel. The image of Jimmy’s head tipped back was beautiful, his throat exposed and his dark hair draping over his features as they rocked together, his brother panting out his lust.
Here was the memory of Wade turning up at his door at Team X, dressed in hot pink lace knickers, tight stockings that encased his smooth, surprisingly pretty legs, high heels, and wearing bright red lipstick that Wade had managed to paint on disturbingly accurately. Victor had yanked him into the room so quickly that Wade’s feet had momentarily lost contact with the floor, slamming the door swiftly to avoid the others in the team ever seeing that particular sight and assuming things about Victor’s personal tastes. The younger man had spent the whole damned evening talking in a soft, phone-sex voice that purred depraved suggestions as Wade performed a little dance to show off his rear to its best advantage. Victor hadn’t known what had been worse; the fact that Wade was pretty damned good at his feminine impression, or the fact that Victor’s groin had appreciated it much more than Victor had ever wanted to admit. Wade had ended up face down on the bed, his expensive knickers around his ankles as Victor had fucked him into next week.
Here was the daydream of taking full command over Team X, one that often turned up whenever Stryker had once again failed to take something further, and one that always managed to make Victor throb harder than ever at the freedom that it would give them. He could imagine the fights and the blood already, finding better profits as they seized the position in the world that they truly deserved.
Here was the memory of ‘Logan’ showering after a long mission in the desert, trying to rid himself of the sand that seemed to be stuck to him. Jimmy had spent a good month trying to prove he didn’t need Victor’s help, that he was no longer a child, and finally had to admit defeat in scrubbing his own back. The embarrassed, sulky expression that had turned to him as the man asked for assistance had been exactly the look in his brother’s eyes that Victor had imagined when he would ask to enter Victor’s bed. In the end, Victor’s own impatience had ruined that situation, but he knew that would have been the look he would have received had it gone to plan. And fuck, was it beautiful.
Here was the memory of Wade tied to the wall with iron shackles, long before his experiments had been done; blood had trickled down his chest in little streams of colour from the slash wounds that Victor had inflicted, and yet all the other man had done was laugh and ask for more. The scents of blood and lust mixing in such a small room had been so intoxicating that Victor was amazed he remembered it at all.
Over and over, again and again, the little memories both true and false whispered to him. Of gentle touches from his brother, their purrs mingling in the darkness. Of cheerful banter with Wade, followed either by a fight or a fuck. Of blood, wet on his hands. Of deaths by his claws, the satisfaction burning through him. So many good things, but nothing that would alter his mind. They had made him vulnerable, and for that he would take a long, bloody revenge.
For a long time nothing spoke and nothing moved. He was alone in the darkness, barely conscious of anything other than the rasping sound of his own breathing. Victor bared his teeth, snarling in sheer anger. He had fought too long and hard for this weakness to happen, and yet his body still refused to obey his orders.
And then, finally, something happened.
“Can you hear me?”
The voice seemingly came out of nowhere, soft and strained. Victor’s head lifted sharply as he tried to sense where the man stood. There were too many mixed signals for him to identify, and none of them seemed correct. He *knew* that voice. It was not a voice he really wanted to hear, but it could have been worse.
Victor snarled and tried to move away again but it was refusing to let him. He growled softly.
“Where are you?”
“I am here. You cannot see me?” the soft voice had picked up the Cajun accent that Victor had been expecting. His eyes studied the room that he could see, and then he grunted dismissively.
“No.”
“I am next to you. Can you feel this?”
Victor waited, but nothing happened. On the other hand, his whole body seemed to be asleep, none of his nerves properly working. He growled again. The Cajun was playing his tricks again.
“No. And why is there a smell of burned flesh?”
“Dat does not matter,”
“I disagree,” Victor shifted, and failed to get anywhere again. He growled helplessly. “I can’t move,”
“You have been shot with some sort of dart, and have shackles on your limbs and neck.” The soft voice supplied helpfully. Victor snarled.
“Well, *get it off*,”
“I cannot.”
“Fuck that. You can blow things up. Do it,”
“It will not work,”
“Try it.” Victor ground out through gritted teeth, his frustration and discomfort clashing badly with his inability to move.
“No. I am not able to move my hands.” came the soft voice, almost reprovingly. Victor stared into the darkness.
“If you can’t move your hands, exactly what were you using to touch me?” he said dangerously. There was a soft noise of amusement.
“Nothing too bad,”
Victor snarled again, not wanting to think of what else the man was going to poke him with. On the other hand, LeBeau’s presence was a nod to the outside world, a world that was surviving without Victor’s interaction. Bastards.
“Where’s Jimmy?” he demanded.
“Logan? I don’t know. Sounds like he and Wade escaped.”
Victor’s mouth curled upwards in a smirk. You never pissed off Jimmy and turned your back on him; that was just asking for a massacre. He would get control over his body and he and Jimmy would act as one once again in their joint anger against the base. Oh yeah. The future might not be as bleak as it appeared. All their enemies had to do was assume a few things and Victor would seize the opportunity to paint the base with their enemies’ blood.
Now that was a thought that beat the nightmares.
TBC
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Thanks very much for reading and waiting! I'm hoping it won't take as long again... O.o
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(one thing: Calvary is a famous hill, cavalry are the dudes on horseback who save the day)
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And oh yes! Sorry about that, I've altered it - this is what comes of relying too much on the spell checker late at night after editing! *shuffle*
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on another note that has nothing to do with this, I passed by a spot in Massachusetts where Ryan Reynolds and some other actress sat outside a joke shop (they had a sticker on the sidewalk). Just thought I should put that out there :)
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It's also a very odd situation where you sit down and work out what you could use a caged Victor Creed for, and surprisingly there were many interesting answers to be had! Although I think I will avoid the little flea collar with the bell..
On the plus side, at least he'll be a genuine pain after a while ;)
Re: Joke shop bench - now that's what I would want to see if I was working in a store and looked out! I hope they were actually filming there rather than said Joke Shop smearing glue on the seat or anything O.o
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Thanks very much indeed for reading!
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I wonder what Remy was using to touch Vicky?
Seriously can't wait to see what will happen next.
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I will look completely innocent over the item used for poking. Innocence is an interesting expression for me but I shall give it a go!
Hopefully the next chapter won't take so long to come out *shuffle* - thanks for reading and waiting for me!
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Oh and, one thing I forgot to mention above: Hope those bastards' asses will be kicked royally for what they had done to Remy!
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Unless, of course, she was only reading what Gambit wanted her to? *ponders*
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On the other hand, he's not entirely behaving himself when it comes to the mental reads - after all, a gambler likes to hold a little back for emergencies *extra innocent look*
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Yeh, the thing right now is the current batch of Marvel writers don't like Gambit for some weird reason, so they've messed around with his abilities and made him much weaker than he actually is (and actually was when he was originally created), imho. If you go way back to his first appearances, you'll see what I mean ;) His shields were always very strong. It may be one of the reasons Sinister is so interested in him.
One of Remy's alternate selfs (New Son) actually destroyed the planet with his mind (accidentally, I think). He has several mutations - his eyes that give him better vision in the dark than many, his agility/flexibility, his kinetic powers, and the charm factor (that a lot of fandom writers consider to be an empathic power). Remy can also time travel when he's at full power.
But, this is AU and movie based, so it's all good. ;)
If you ever want to learn more about Gambit in a short amount of time, you might visit the Gambit Guild (http://www.gambitguild.com/) or Le Diable Blanc (http://www.lediableblanc.com/). They are vast repositories of info on our beloved Cajun. *grin*
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Time travel?! Probably won't be going that far with him..! Mind you, I'm more than happy to hint that he'll get stronger as he gets older which'll hopefully kinda fit in with everything (ish!)
I'll go pester the guild! Ta muchly :D
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There will definitely be more smutty happenings next time - cages will not stop our enterprising fellows!
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I love that Caleb guy, well you know, not love love. I really like all those little things about Stryker from him. Looks like you managed to write Victor just right. He is gonna show Caleb, right?
Victor playing with wool. (http://community.livejournal.com/victorxlogan/13932.html)
The embarrassed, sulky expression that had turned to him as the man asked for assistance had been exactly the look in his brother’s eyes that Victor had imagined when he would ask to enter Victor’s bed.Maybe in another universe...I have to say that induced or not the image of these two boys showering has been on my mind several occasions...sometimes even including Wade.
Thank you so much for sharing this with us!!oh, what's that? a Kate and Leopold tag *off to see*
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I love that wool batting image of Victor! I'm sure a serial killer shouldn't be so gosh darn cute (other than ones called Dexter), although now I have images of him curled up fast asleep on a furry rug by a fire :D
Oooh, I can see the showering scene well - I think I've seen a few other shower scenes fics, but I don't think I've seen a Victor/Logan one yet, it's normally Wade with someone else. I'll see if I can get one written for you as a stand alone fic :D
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LOVE.
This.
Fic *_______*
Really!
If it wasn't so awfully long, I could translate it in italian (with your permission, off course), but it's so long that I run away from the task =D
It's wonderfull and, as I said con x_slash, it's addicting. Deadpool is exactly like the comic-version, and I LOVE IT *___* *starry eyes*
Like Logan, in comics Creed has a resistance to telepathic assault and control, but being this an AU, no problem (you know, I cannot imagine Liev, and while reading I see the big, very tall, hairy, blond Sabretooth from the comic =D Try imagine a 6feet tall man rolling on his back and purring! It's perfect! Funny almost like the pink flamingo =D)
Soooo...
thank you for writing this story. No need for smut, but blood, tiger-like psicopath in action and so on *__*
Sorry for typos, strange grammar, strange word and so on: usually I don't write in english ^^;;
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You're a genious.
Really *_*
*/me goes back to the final dissertation*
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I did a bit of research on Sabretooth's abilities and, as most things in this canon *waves fist at canon*, everything seems to be pretty flexible on what his weaknesses were depending on the comic series, so I thought I'd go for a vaguely possible explanation and go from there ;) I had a long period of time thinking "bugger, what *will* actually stop them?" so there's a few .. okay, quite a few things.. which aren't correct *shuffle feet*. Hopefully it doesn't jar too much and for a lot of it, the shields aren't working because they haven't bothered to put them up rather than not actually having the ability :D
Thanks very much for reading and sorry for taking ages to come back to you!
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Victor's fantasy about Jimmy in uniform was de-lish. Mm.
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Mmmmm two man team *purrs*
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On the other: what a situational cliffie! I'm waiting eagerly for more. :D
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Who says there is no porn in it???
"...before Jimmy would ultimately agree to properly "test" the clothing and ended up, halfnaked and trembling, sitting on Victor´s lap with Victor´s hard erection buried deep in his virgin channel."
Hot as hell. Even so vulnerabe, almost female (no panic, I don´t see it as a genderbending thing, it´s simply extreme hot and sexy. Oh Victor, I understand you so well... :P)
"Caleb´s thoughts turned briefly to lunch, and the steak and fries he suddenly fancied."
What a really mean bastard. Hope he´ll get what he deserves. Get it twice. And slow. Oh yesss. *Self-abandoned sadistic smirk*
AND
"He might even have a sugar in it; victory required a little celebration after all."
That tells us a lot about this guy. Won´t be easy to defeat.
I´m so grateful you made Remy strong and reluctant and don´t let him give in. From an outside point of view he appears to be the weakest spot of the team but he has much more capacity than meets the eye.
So the feral´s way failed and now they have to start thinking. Could become another Pratchett-like situation, character developing accompanied by inner dialogue. Ooh, I would love this...
And thanks for the piccies, they helped a lot. I´m not particularly familiar with deserts and they gave me a quite good impression. Especially the third one from above. Victor´s night run could have occured here...
I´m eagerly waiting for the next chapter, but please, don´t feel forced to hurry. Everything needs it´s moment in life and the author´s fun should remain as great as the pleasure of the reader. :)
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Well, there's a few ittle bits of porn in it *shuffles* - I can never write slash without a small amount creeping in there, to wet the tastebuds in a slightly disturbing way, but not as much as I'd hope. Mind you, smut in the middle of a battle is always hard to do. The missiles make you drop the lube, and making the earth move tends to get all literal...
I hadn't really looked at the Victor/Jimmy bit as feminine, although I can see your point! Fantasies are always great for extreme reactions I guess
With Remy, although he's the weakest physically out of the three - if nothing more than the fact he breaks if someone gets a lucky shot - I'm definitely keen to keep him strong in himself. It's amazing what you can do with a large dose of sneakiness :D
Glad you're enjoying the series and thanks very much for commenting! And now .. sleep!! You poor sausage!
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Hopefully next chapter will be finished soon ish, I have a few to come up during the christmas period ^^. Including a Wolverine RPS that has been strangely pestering me to be written. Odd
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evil plot bunnies
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As for the pairings, I'm more into Victor 'n Logan pairing. The other's not so much, yet can't help but find them refreshing at times because in the world you created with these characters it wouldn't be the same without the extra pairings.
I am curious though on a few things. One is what's going to happen next? Two is Logan going to lose his memories? Three are you going to do fic's based around X1 should he lose his memories?
Anyway's love your stories and hope to read more from you soon.
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