XM: FC fic: Der Geduldige Mann
Title: Der Geduldige Mann
Fandom/Character: X-Men: FC, Sebastian Shaw
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 288
Notes: Written for this prompt on 1stclass_kink.
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Sebastian Shaw is not a forgiving man. He is not kind, nor is he gentle (though Emma seems to wish he were so in the quiet moments when she looks at him and thinks he isn’t aware). Though he uses them often, Shaw is not a man of words, either, but a man of action.
His finger on the trigger.
The boy on the table waiting, just waiting to be turned into something better.
No, Shaw is anything but a man of words. Words, no matter how forcefully spoken or in what language (Russian, German, English, French, Spanish-take your pick, he speaks them all to at least some degree) mean nothing without the power, the promise of action to enforce them. Shaw has never wasted his time on words.
“Put the missiles in Cuba,” he says.
“I expect you will reconsider,” he says.
Shaw is also a man of ideals, of shining ideas of a perfect, advanced race. He knows what he wants, and he knows how to achieve it. He will not tolerate weakness, or failure, or betrayal. Der kleine Erik Lensherr arriving is not unexpected (for Shaw is a confident man, though not a stupid one), but it is quickly dealt with. Shaw is a man of results. He is a man who puts on his suit every day, hands smoothing over the fabric until it lies straight, who slides a metal helmet onto his head to protect his mind, who quirks a smile and plans and uses words and actions to slowly make his ideas a reality. War is brewing, simmering, and Shaw is waiting.
Because despite everything he is not, and quite above all else that he is, Sebastian Shaw is a man of patience.
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Short, but not bad for my first every foray into the fandom, right?
Fandom/Character: X-Men: FC, Sebastian Shaw
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 288
Notes: Written for this prompt on 1stclass_kink.
------------
Sebastian Shaw is not a forgiving man. He is not kind, nor is he gentle (though Emma seems to wish he were so in the quiet moments when she looks at him and thinks he isn’t aware). Though he uses them often, Shaw is not a man of words, either, but a man of action.
His finger on the trigger.
The boy on the table waiting, just waiting to be turned into something better.
No, Shaw is anything but a man of words. Words, no matter how forcefully spoken or in what language (Russian, German, English, French, Spanish-take your pick, he speaks them all to at least some degree) mean nothing without the power, the promise of action to enforce them. Shaw has never wasted his time on words.
“Put the missiles in Cuba,” he says.
“I expect you will reconsider,” he says.
Shaw is also a man of ideals, of shining ideas of a perfect, advanced race. He knows what he wants, and he knows how to achieve it. He will not tolerate weakness, or failure, or betrayal. Der kleine Erik Lensherr arriving is not unexpected (for Shaw is a confident man, though not a stupid one), but it is quickly dealt with. Shaw is a man of results. He is a man who puts on his suit every day, hands smoothing over the fabric until it lies straight, who slides a metal helmet onto his head to protect his mind, who quirks a smile and plans and uses words and actions to slowly make his ideas a reality. War is brewing, simmering, and Shaw is waiting.
Because despite everything he is not, and quite above all else that he is, Sebastian Shaw is a man of patience.
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Short, but not bad for my first every foray into the fandom, right?