#ravencharles

[widgenstain]

So I kinda sorta finished Front Window over the weekend. This is how I pictured the main players.

Erik is a lonely electronics salesman with a secret past, who develops an unhealthy obsession with the blue-eyed stranger form across the street.

[xmenfcfanfic]

Any recommendations for fics that focus on Raven and Charles (in a non romantic relationship)?

I highly recommend Hold Too Tight (don’t let me) by mellomailbox from last year’s Secret Mutant collection.

When Charles takes Raven in as a child, he expects to have a happy childhood devoid of loneliness. Neither of them expect the Markos.

[harlequinmarvel]

We only have one story left to claim!! If you haven't signed up as an artist, no worries, you still can! Just provide as your username and email within your claim!

[yalenas]

[xmenfcfanfic]

I'm trying to find a fic where Kurt selling Charles to barbarian Erik in exchange for an army. It's very similar to Daenerys and Khal Drogo from Game of Thrones if that help where Erik is the leader and they are really into horses.

Hi there!

I believe the fic you're looking for is:

Riding for the Throne by write_in_ice [NC17, Cherik, RavenCharles, KurtCharles, Fantasy, Dub and Non-Con]

Charles is a royal exile sold by his step-father (Kurt Marko) to a fearsome warlord (Erik) for an army to take back his throne. Charles tries to survive and adapt to his new life as magic returns to the world.

Enjoy!

[sapphirescales-archive-blog]

mystique/professor x

The first brush of her mouth against his has him reeling, hands wavering and flickering by her sides before he sighs, hands coming to life and burning a brand against her sides, lips opening, one kiss melting into two, three, four, five and her skin flickers from flushed peach to sapphire blue to peach and settling on blue and his grip tightens impossibly, she can feel his fingerprints marking her skin before he pushes her away, almost roughly, “Charles — “

“No, no, get out, Raven, just go,” and he snaps this in her mind, hands threading through his hair and pulling at it, buttons of his shirt undone, cheeks flushed and angry 

     (she can hear the litany of sistersistersister despite her swollen [ blue ] lips, despite the startling swell between his legs, despite his hands trembling; she knows what he’s thinking, even without telepathy.)

She locks herself in her room, angry bitter tears, slides her back against the door as she pulls her shift close, blonde curls and blue eyes, vows to keep away from him from now on

    (he’s too dangerous to let that close again)

                              — and the next day, they fly off to America.