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tammaiyaI was totally going to update LJ the other day, you know. I was like 2/3 through the post. And then I turned off my iPad, and it turned out the LJ App doesn't save drafts. *bitter*
One of these days, I may actually resurrect that post, although it was mostly a life update, so on second thoughts, unlikely.
In summary:
1. I now have an iPad, which I'm sure you've all already assumed from the above. I also now have a PS3 and a TV, which I have moved onto my desk along with all my other consoles. As I'm sure you can imagine, it sees very little use now as a desk, but then again, it was always so messy that the last time it saw use as a desk was in about 2007 anyway. And, yes, I know I am a consumer whore. I find it hard to contain myself after a year with no disposable income. Also, one netbook actually started smoking, and the other netbook has serious crash/freeze issues, so the iPad wasn't COMPLETELY indulgent. I NEED THE INTERNET OKAY.
2. I continue to work. Work is generally good. I like being a lawyer. I also continue to study. Study is less good, but on the bright side I will at this rate be a fully admitted solicitor by the end of the year.
3. I am now occasionally writing stuff again. I am still not completely down with the idea of writing on an iPad, for some reason it stalls my thought processes and I'm certainly not ready to try dealing with BBX on it, but nevertheless, there has been some writing. Mostly ridiculous Arthur/Eames Inception AUs based on shoujo highschool manga and, even more alarmingly, on sekaiichi hatsukoi. I am basically a TERRIBLE PERSON, but I maintain that Kelsey is even more terrible, because she ENCOURAGES me when really she should know better, for the sake of humanity.
4. I play a lot of video games, read many books/manga, and watch much tv/movies. Recently these have included starting Assassin's Creed, replaying Tales of Destiny 2, finally reading His Dark Materials, finally watching Iron Man, watching Thor and XMFC (what is with all the Marvel?), watching a bunch of romcoms, rewatching X-Men: Evolution, starting Suits and continuing Pretty Little Liars. Am I the only person who is still bitter about Maya?
I thought about trying to make (4) sound productive, but then I laughed derisively at my own denial and resigned myself to squishing it into as small a space as possible to at least reduce it.
On that note, AU fic meme! This is a terrible idea that will no doubt end in tears, because we all know what I'm like about AUs, and yet I am drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Basically, I have come up with a list of 25 possible AUs. If you are willing to chance the risk of ending up with a HILARIOUSLY HORRIFYING outcome, you choose a number from 1 to 25 and a fandom (plus pairing if you so choose, knowing that I will probably make it about my own OTP if you don't). If you are lucky (or unlucky, depending), I might write you a comment fic based on the prompt.
Here are three that I prepared earlier over instant messenger with the assistance of Kelsey:
"Mr Lensharr, may I present my ward, Miss Darkholme," Charles said smoothly, a hand at Raven's elbow. She was sullen, but as he had warned her time and again, better to conform to the constraints of society, in every little particular, than to expose oneself to deeper scrutiny. It was not so very long ago that people like them were condemned as witches and heretics; Lord only knew what might become of them should their secrets be uncovered.
Charles knew all too well from his rather more intimate than usual acquaintance with the human mind that the more exulted one's position in life to begin with, the more cruelly society would delight in one's downfall. He would be damned before he would see that happen to Raven and himself, and that meant he must refrain from playing the eccentric lordling who allowed scandal on his doorstep. He and Raven must fit in, as best they could; their relationship was already talked of enough, without their doing anything else to bring attention to themselves. Even with his power, Charles could only do so much to repel gossip, and they could not afford for anyone to search too deeply.
"A pleasure, Miss Darkholme," Erik said, smooth as polished silver, and finally was Raven coaxed into a smile by his chivalry.
"I like him, brother," she said archly. "He is a gentleman, unlike those louts you insisted on keeping company with in your Oxford days. You could do far worse," and Erik laughed, despite Charles's mortification at the insolence of his younger sister's tongue.
'Raven,' he thought sharply, 'contain yourself, we are in polite society.'
"Do not be too harsh on her," Erik said, with his usual shrewd intuition at their expressions. "She is young, after all. Go, Miss Darkholme, do not let yourself be bored by us old men; is that not your particular friend Miss Salvadore I see?"
"It is indeed!" Raven responded, casting a smug smile at her long-suffering companion. "It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr Lensharr. Brother."
She danced away, and Charles sighed, fond despite himself. "I am afraid you will spoil her, my friend," he said, reproachful but not quite so much as he might have intended.
'And I am afraid, my dearest Charles,' Erik thought at him, staring deep into his eyes in a way that near hypnotised, compelled Charles not to look away while instilling a desperation to do just that, 'that you allow your fear to bind you, and fail to appreciate just how marvelous a creature you could be if only you would allow yourself the freedom.'
And Charles flushed, because Raven's impropriety he could handle, but Erik, for all his social graces, knew not the meaning of shame, and he made Charles want to be scandalous. Never mind drawing attention by eccentricity; Erik made him want things that were downright sinful, against the laws of man and nature, base and unrefined. Erik made him want to forget society entirely, form a society of their own, a society where one could be whatever one chose, whether that be a Jew, a witch or, God forbid, an invert.
Erik made him want.
But because Charles was who he was, and who he was was a coward, he forced a laugh and said, "And I fear even more, dear Mr Lensharr, that you shall be the end of me."
'OBJECTION,' Erik thought intensely, staring across the room to narrow his eyes at Charles. 'Counsel is spying on the Defence's strategy by rifling through their minds.'
Charles flinched, and Erik experienced a moment of vicarious guilt which quickly transformed into self-righteousness. Oh, Charles.
'Surely it is in both our interests for me to find out whether he's actually guilty, Erik,' Charles thought back at him sullenly. 'If he truly is innocent, I shouldn't even be prosecuting this case.'
'I wonder how it is that you can be so very brilliant with the law, Charles, and yet completely fail to understand the theories underpinning your legal system,' Erik told him dryly. 'Every man is entitled to representation. Every man is entitled to be assumed innocent. We balance the interests of the individual against the interests of society by pitting two evenly matched opponents against each other to argue until the facts become clear. An adversarial system of law can only function if you preserve those precepts.'
'But where is the need for that, when I KNOW?' Charles answered, frustrated. 'Of course it is better to let ten guilty men go free than to imprison one innocent, but if it can be known, without a shadow of a doubt, that a person is guilty of exactly what they are accused of, then how can I be responsible for allowing them to escape punishment and perhaps re-offend?'
'And yet, Charles, you cannot expect an entire legal system to be built upon your abilities, upon your integrity,' Erik argued back, a snap in his mental voice. 'You cannot play judge and juror and prosecution besides. Would you make yourself God? Perhaps you believe that instead of being a Defence attorney, I should be out using my powers in an attempt to single-handedly solve the energy crisis?'
Charles does not bother to dignify this with a response. It is an old argument, one that has reached its usual impasse.
"Gentleman, is there a problem?" the judge asked dryly. Charles and Erik had a reputation. There was a fairly even split amongst the bench of those who delighted in the entertainment of seeing the two face off in their court, and those who bemoaned the headache. Justice McTaggert varied from day to day.
"No, Your Honour," Charles lied, scowling at Erik, and Erik smirked back.
Really, he thought, more privately this time, Charles should have known from the start that their relationship was doomed; their ideologies were too different. Charles could not understand how Erik could defend criminals who were guilty of such terrible things, and Erik refused to accept Charles's over-simplification of justice, exacerbated by his powers. It was destined for failure.
And yet somehow, they were still too drawn to each other to put a stop to it, which had left them infamous as the most tumultuous on-again/off-again relationship in the legal community. Erik loathed gossip, but it seemed he was forever consigned to being a source of it.
"Shall we begin, my learned friend?" he suggested, raising his eyebrow, and Charles grinned.
"If the Court pleases," he said, with a nod to the judge just this side of cheeky, "we shall indeed."
"Sometimes, Charles, your leftist idealism absolutely screams white privilege," Erik said bitingly. "It is beyond infuriating, it's... I have no words. I speak more languages than you can possibly comprehend, and yet I am speechless."
"Only sometimes?" Charles said wryly. "I'm flattered."
"Don't be ridiculous," Erik snapped. "Putting aside precisely how you intend to get this through the Senate - which, might I remind you, is a fairly big aside - how do you expect this to even work? You can't force acceptance upon people. If people want to hate, they will hate. Unless you propose to brainwash the entire country, which is a bit unrealistic even for you."
"I wouldn't do it even if I could, Erik," Charles said, stung. "I hope you'd know me better than that by now. And how else do you suggest I should proceed? If the Government does not take a stand, how do you expect people to change their attitudes?"
"You assume people will change their attitudes," Erik said bitterly. "Somehow despite all evidence to the contrary, despite what you have seen in these people's minds, despite the fact you can't even get people to understand the need for universal healthcare, you believe that acceptance is an actual possibility. They would never have voted for you if they'd known you were a mutant, Charles, you must know that."
"And what would you have me do?" Charles demanded. "Take the first step? Contain them with fear instead of trying to foster understanding? Would you have me abuse my position, make me into a tyrant who will use the power of the law and the state and my own mind to destroy those I consider lesser beings? I would have thought you, Erik, you of all people should know better."
There was a suspended moment, like a sharply indrawn breath, like stepping off a cliff only to find there's no more ground below you, then Erik's face and mind slammed shut and Charles's face drained of colour as he realised what he had just said.
"I'm sorry," Charles said after a stilted silence. "That was out of line."
"It was," Erik said, stiff but forgiving of a trespass he would forgive no one but Charles. "I hope you know what you're doing, Mr President."
"So do I, Erik," Charles sighed. "So do I."
Plus... bonus extras to the political AU. Ugh, THIS IS HOW IT BEGINS. /o\
“Of course you must be my Vice President,” Charles said, self-assured and confident, and Erik stared at him.
“Charles,” he said evenly, “I don’t know if you have somehow failed to notice this, but I was born in Germany, to Jewish German parents, as a German citizen. The only way I could be less American would be if I were actually extraterrestrial.”
“Of course I’m aware of that,” Charles said, dismissive as though there were something silly and fanciful about Erik pointing this out rather than it being a crucial bar against him ever being Vice President. “No one has ever questioned the fact that Raven is my younger sister, not even my mother. Whenever anyone asks for her birth certificate, I take care of it. So long as everyone believes you are an American citizen or can be convinced not to care, there’s no problem. How hard can it be?”
Erik experienced an ever more frequent moment of terror, not of Charles, but for him, for the terrible things he could do without even realising the significance of what it was he did, for the way humans would view him should they ever find out.
“Of course,” he echoed. “How hard can it be?”
...........
As Secretary of State and equally importantly the younger sister of the incumbent President, Raven was frequently subjected to the headache known as Charles Xavier.
“Charles,” she said, exasperated. “You can’t always just use your powers to convince the Senate whenever you want to get a controversial Bill through. One day you’re going to overreach or someone’s going to find out and it’ll all end in tears.”
“Nonsense,” he said distractedly. “I’m simply giving them a little extra encouragement, that’s all. It’s just like debating, but with less time-wasting for political grandstanding.”
Raven sighed. “What scares me,” she said, “is that you don’t even realise when you’re being scary.”
Charles made a non-committal noise that was supposed to mean “I’m listening, really” but actually meant “I am talking to someone with my brain, probably Erik, and I have no idea what you just said, because it lacked keywords that interest me and so I filtered it out as probably too boring to pay attention to”.
Raven knew these things, because Raven had more experience dealing with her older brother than anyone, even Erik.
“Also,” she added loudly, “I don’t know how you and Erik expect to run a country together when you fight literally all the time and barely share any political ground at all beyond ‘mutants good, mutant persecution bad’.”
“Sorry, what?” Charles said, blinking and finally looking back at her. She’d said the magic word: Erik.
“Have you ever agreed on even a single proposal without extensive arguments first?” she demanded.
“Uhhhh,” Charles said. “I’m sure there must be at least /one/. Surely. Just give me a moment, I’ll come up with something...”
“Yeah, right,” Raven scoffed, at which point Erik breezed into the room and said, “Charles, will you marry me?”
“Of course,” Charles said vaguely, still frowning with thought, then his head whipped around and he blurted, “Wait, what? I mean, yes—but—of course, but—what?”
“There you go,” Erik said calmly, turning to Raven. “A proposal on which we both agreed, without arguing. Happy?”
“Hang on, did you just ask me to marry you to prove a point?” Charles objected, deflating slightly. Erik rolled his eyes.
“Don’t be ridiculous, of course not,” he said dismissively. “I’d been planning on asking already, that particular opening was just too good to miss.”
Raven thought that kind of one-upmanship was frankly a little bit disturbing, even by Erik’s standards, but Charles seemed to think it was romantic rather than freakish so who was she to interfere?
“That’s cheating,” she said instead. “Anyway, let’s get to the wedding planning stage and then we’ll see who’s arguing.”
“Ah, but you said first,” Erik pointed out. “Any arguing that happens later is irrelevant to the question.”
“This is why I hate politicians,” Raven said sourly.
"But you are one," Charles said, perhaps unwisely, because then she turned to him and snarled, "Whose fault do you think that is?" which even he couldn't argue against.
"I can't help being persuasive," he said, injured, and then a moment later: "If we get married, what do you think that will make Erik? The First Man? That makes me think of cricket. The First Chap, perhaps?"
"No," Erik said firmly, "God, no," and Raven thought, here we go again, she knew this would end in more arguing.
"I told you so," she muttered, and walked out.
Ladies and gentlemen, the two most powerful men in the world. Christ.
One of these days, I may actually resurrect that post, although it was mostly a life update, so on second thoughts, unlikely.
In summary:
1. I now have an iPad, which I'm sure you've all already assumed from the above. I also now have a PS3 and a TV, which I have moved onto my desk along with all my other consoles. As I'm sure you can imagine, it sees very little use now as a desk, but then again, it was always so messy that the last time it saw use as a desk was in about 2007 anyway. And, yes, I know I am a consumer whore. I find it hard to contain myself after a year with no disposable income. Also, one netbook actually started smoking, and the other netbook has serious crash/freeze issues, so the iPad wasn't COMPLETELY indulgent. I NEED THE INTERNET OKAY.
2. I continue to work. Work is generally good. I like being a lawyer. I also continue to study. Study is less good, but on the bright side I will at this rate be a fully admitted solicitor by the end of the year.
3. I am now occasionally writing stuff again. I am still not completely down with the idea of writing on an iPad, for some reason it stalls my thought processes and I'm certainly not ready to try dealing with BBX on it, but nevertheless, there has been some writing. Mostly ridiculous Arthur/Eames Inception AUs based on shoujo highschool manga and, even more alarmingly, on sekaiichi hatsukoi. I am basically a TERRIBLE PERSON, but I maintain that Kelsey is even more terrible, because she ENCOURAGES me when really she should know better, for the sake of humanity.
4. I play a lot of video games, read many books/manga, and watch much tv/movies. Recently these have included starting Assassin's Creed, replaying Tales of Destiny 2, finally reading His Dark Materials, finally watching Iron Man, watching Thor and XMFC (what is with all the Marvel?), watching a bunch of romcoms, rewatching X-Men: Evolution, starting Suits and continuing Pretty Little Liars. Am I the only person who is still bitter about Maya?
I thought about trying to make (4) sound productive, but then I laughed derisively at my own denial and resigned myself to squishing it into as small a space as possible to at least reduce it.
On that note, AU fic meme! This is a terrible idea that will no doubt end in tears, because we all know what I'm like about AUs, and yet I am drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Basically, I have come up with a list of 25 possible AUs. If you are willing to chance the risk of ending up with a HILARIOUSLY HORRIFYING outcome, you choose a number from 1 to 25 and a fandom (plus pairing if you so choose, knowing that I will probably make it about my own OTP if you don't). If you are lucky (or unlucky, depending), I might write you a comment fic based on the prompt.
Here are three that I prepared earlier over instant messenger with the assistance of Kelsey:
"Mr Lensharr, may I present my ward, Miss Darkholme," Charles said smoothly, a hand at Raven's elbow. She was sullen, but as he had warned her time and again, better to conform to the constraints of society, in every little particular, than to expose oneself to deeper scrutiny. It was not so very long ago that people like them were condemned as witches and heretics; Lord only knew what might become of them should their secrets be uncovered.
Charles knew all too well from his rather more intimate than usual acquaintance with the human mind that the more exulted one's position in life to begin with, the more cruelly society would delight in one's downfall. He would be damned before he would see that happen to Raven and himself, and that meant he must refrain from playing the eccentric lordling who allowed scandal on his doorstep. He and Raven must fit in, as best they could; their relationship was already talked of enough, without their doing anything else to bring attention to themselves. Even with his power, Charles could only do so much to repel gossip, and they could not afford for anyone to search too deeply.
"A pleasure, Miss Darkholme," Erik said, smooth as polished silver, and finally was Raven coaxed into a smile by his chivalry.
"I like him, brother," she said archly. "He is a gentleman, unlike those louts you insisted on keeping company with in your Oxford days. You could do far worse," and Erik laughed, despite Charles's mortification at the insolence of his younger sister's tongue.
'Raven,' he thought sharply, 'contain yourself, we are in polite society.'
"Do not be too harsh on her," Erik said, with his usual shrewd intuition at their expressions. "She is young, after all. Go, Miss Darkholme, do not let yourself be bored by us old men; is that not your particular friend Miss Salvadore I see?"
"It is indeed!" Raven responded, casting a smug smile at her long-suffering companion. "It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr Lensharr. Brother."
She danced away, and Charles sighed, fond despite himself. "I am afraid you will spoil her, my friend," he said, reproachful but not quite so much as he might have intended.
'And I am afraid, my dearest Charles,' Erik thought at him, staring deep into his eyes in a way that near hypnotised, compelled Charles not to look away while instilling a desperation to do just that, 'that you allow your fear to bind you, and fail to appreciate just how marvelous a creature you could be if only you would allow yourself the freedom.'
And Charles flushed, because Raven's impropriety he could handle, but Erik, for all his social graces, knew not the meaning of shame, and he made Charles want to be scandalous. Never mind drawing attention by eccentricity; Erik made him want things that were downright sinful, against the laws of man and nature, base and unrefined. Erik made him want to forget society entirely, form a society of their own, a society where one could be whatever one chose, whether that be a Jew, a witch or, God forbid, an invert.
Erik made him want.
But because Charles was who he was, and who he was was a coward, he forced a laugh and said, "And I fear even more, dear Mr Lensharr, that you shall be the end of me."
'OBJECTION,' Erik thought intensely, staring across the room to narrow his eyes at Charles. 'Counsel is spying on the Defence's strategy by rifling through their minds.'
Charles flinched, and Erik experienced a moment of vicarious guilt which quickly transformed into self-righteousness. Oh, Charles.
'Surely it is in both our interests for me to find out whether he's actually guilty, Erik,' Charles thought back at him sullenly. 'If he truly is innocent, I shouldn't even be prosecuting this case.'
'I wonder how it is that you can be so very brilliant with the law, Charles, and yet completely fail to understand the theories underpinning your legal system,' Erik told him dryly. 'Every man is entitled to representation. Every man is entitled to be assumed innocent. We balance the interests of the individual against the interests of society by pitting two evenly matched opponents against each other to argue until the facts become clear. An adversarial system of law can only function if you preserve those precepts.'
'But where is the need for that, when I KNOW?' Charles answered, frustrated. 'Of course it is better to let ten guilty men go free than to imprison one innocent, but if it can be known, without a shadow of a doubt, that a person is guilty of exactly what they are accused of, then how can I be responsible for allowing them to escape punishment and perhaps re-offend?'
'And yet, Charles, you cannot expect an entire legal system to be built upon your abilities, upon your integrity,' Erik argued back, a snap in his mental voice. 'You cannot play judge and juror and prosecution besides. Would you make yourself God? Perhaps you believe that instead of being a Defence attorney, I should be out using my powers in an attempt to single-handedly solve the energy crisis?'
Charles does not bother to dignify this with a response. It is an old argument, one that has reached its usual impasse.
"Gentleman, is there a problem?" the judge asked dryly. Charles and Erik had a reputation. There was a fairly even split amongst the bench of those who delighted in the entertainment of seeing the two face off in their court, and those who bemoaned the headache. Justice McTaggert varied from day to day.
"No, Your Honour," Charles lied, scowling at Erik, and Erik smirked back.
Really, he thought, more privately this time, Charles should have known from the start that their relationship was doomed; their ideologies were too different. Charles could not understand how Erik could defend criminals who were guilty of such terrible things, and Erik refused to accept Charles's over-simplification of justice, exacerbated by his powers. It was destined for failure.
And yet somehow, they were still too drawn to each other to put a stop to it, which had left them infamous as the most tumultuous on-again/off-again relationship in the legal community. Erik loathed gossip, but it seemed he was forever consigned to being a source of it.
"Shall we begin, my learned friend?" he suggested, raising his eyebrow, and Charles grinned.
"If the Court pleases," he said, with a nod to the judge just this side of cheeky, "we shall indeed."
"Sometimes, Charles, your leftist idealism absolutely screams white privilege," Erik said bitingly. "It is beyond infuriating, it's... I have no words. I speak more languages than you can possibly comprehend, and yet I am speechless."
"Only sometimes?" Charles said wryly. "I'm flattered."
"Don't be ridiculous," Erik snapped. "Putting aside precisely how you intend to get this through the Senate - which, might I remind you, is a fairly big aside - how do you expect this to even work? You can't force acceptance upon people. If people want to hate, they will hate. Unless you propose to brainwash the entire country, which is a bit unrealistic even for you."
"I wouldn't do it even if I could, Erik," Charles said, stung. "I hope you'd know me better than that by now. And how else do you suggest I should proceed? If the Government does not take a stand, how do you expect people to change their attitudes?"
"You assume people will change their attitudes," Erik said bitterly. "Somehow despite all evidence to the contrary, despite what you have seen in these people's minds, despite the fact you can't even get people to understand the need for universal healthcare, you believe that acceptance is an actual possibility. They would never have voted for you if they'd known you were a mutant, Charles, you must know that."
"And what would you have me do?" Charles demanded. "Take the first step? Contain them with fear instead of trying to foster understanding? Would you have me abuse my position, make me into a tyrant who will use the power of the law and the state and my own mind to destroy those I consider lesser beings? I would have thought you, Erik, you of all people should know better."
There was a suspended moment, like a sharply indrawn breath, like stepping off a cliff only to find there's no more ground below you, then Erik's face and mind slammed shut and Charles's face drained of colour as he realised what he had just said.
"I'm sorry," Charles said after a stilted silence. "That was out of line."
"It was," Erik said, stiff but forgiving of a trespass he would forgive no one but Charles. "I hope you know what you're doing, Mr President."
"So do I, Erik," Charles sighed. "So do I."
Plus... bonus extras to the political AU. Ugh, THIS IS HOW IT BEGINS. /o\
“Of course you must be my Vice President,” Charles said, self-assured and confident, and Erik stared at him.
“Charles,” he said evenly, “I don’t know if you have somehow failed to notice this, but I was born in Germany, to Jewish German parents, as a German citizen. The only way I could be less American would be if I were actually extraterrestrial.”
“Of course I’m aware of that,” Charles said, dismissive as though there were something silly and fanciful about Erik pointing this out rather than it being a crucial bar against him ever being Vice President. “No one has ever questioned the fact that Raven is my younger sister, not even my mother. Whenever anyone asks for her birth certificate, I take care of it. So long as everyone believes you are an American citizen or can be convinced not to care, there’s no problem. How hard can it be?”
Erik experienced an ever more frequent moment of terror, not of Charles, but for him, for the terrible things he could do without even realising the significance of what it was he did, for the way humans would view him should they ever find out.
“Of course,” he echoed. “How hard can it be?”
...........
As Secretary of State and equally importantly the younger sister of the incumbent President, Raven was frequently subjected to the headache known as Charles Xavier.
“Charles,” she said, exasperated. “You can’t always just use your powers to convince the Senate whenever you want to get a controversial Bill through. One day you’re going to overreach or someone’s going to find out and it’ll all end in tears.”
“Nonsense,” he said distractedly. “I’m simply giving them a little extra encouragement, that’s all. It’s just like debating, but with less time-wasting for political grandstanding.”
Raven sighed. “What scares me,” she said, “is that you don’t even realise when you’re being scary.”
Charles made a non-committal noise that was supposed to mean “I’m listening, really” but actually meant “I am talking to someone with my brain, probably Erik, and I have no idea what you just said, because it lacked keywords that interest me and so I filtered it out as probably too boring to pay attention to”.
Raven knew these things, because Raven had more experience dealing with her older brother than anyone, even Erik.
“Also,” she added loudly, “I don’t know how you and Erik expect to run a country together when you fight literally all the time and barely share any political ground at all beyond ‘mutants good, mutant persecution bad’.”
“Sorry, what?” Charles said, blinking and finally looking back at her. She’d said the magic word: Erik.
“Have you ever agreed on even a single proposal without extensive arguments first?” she demanded.
“Uhhhh,” Charles said. “I’m sure there must be at least /one/. Surely. Just give me a moment, I’ll come up with something...”
“Yeah, right,” Raven scoffed, at which point Erik breezed into the room and said, “Charles, will you marry me?”
“Of course,” Charles said vaguely, still frowning with thought, then his head whipped around and he blurted, “Wait, what? I mean, yes—but—of course, but—what?”
“There you go,” Erik said calmly, turning to Raven. “A proposal on which we both agreed, without arguing. Happy?”
“Hang on, did you just ask me to marry you to prove a point?” Charles objected, deflating slightly. Erik rolled his eyes.
“Don’t be ridiculous, of course not,” he said dismissively. “I’d been planning on asking already, that particular opening was just too good to miss.”
Raven thought that kind of one-upmanship was frankly a little bit disturbing, even by Erik’s standards, but Charles seemed to think it was romantic rather than freakish so who was she to interfere?
“That’s cheating,” she said instead. “Anyway, let’s get to the wedding planning stage and then we’ll see who’s arguing.”
“Ah, but you said first,” Erik pointed out. “Any arguing that happens later is irrelevant to the question.”
“This is why I hate politicians,” Raven said sourly.
"But you are one," Charles said, perhaps unwisely, because then she turned to him and snarled, "Whose fault do you think that is?" which even he couldn't argue against.
"I can't help being persuasive," he said, injured, and then a moment later: "If we get married, what do you think that will make Erik? The First Man? That makes me think of cricket. The First Chap, perhaps?"
"No," Erik said firmly, "God, no," and Raven thought, here we go again, she knew this would end in more arguing.
"I told you so," she muttered, and walked out.
Ladies and gentlemen, the two most powerful men in the world. Christ.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
XMFC, Erik/Charles, Disney!AU (Parent Trap) 1/2
Date: 2011-07-18 01:13 pm (UTC)The young man on the doorstep smirked. "Well if you don't know that, I sure ain't gonna tell ya," he said cheekily, and had Erik been in his right mind he might have taken exception, but as it was, he was too busy freaking out. "Their mother died, no next of kin, you were listed on the birth certificate. It's up to you what happens to them, now."
"Erik," Charles said, with the kind of calm that screamed 'eye of the storm', "you never told me you had children."
"I didn't know!" Erik protested.
"You didn't know?" Charles said, quickly escalating into hystrionic DANGER! territory. "You had children and you didn't even know?"
"Their mother never told me! And I was distracted hunting Shaw! And it was before I even knew you!" Erik said defensively. Charles scowled at him, still exuding waves of displeasure over a core of rather hypocritical jealousy. Erik wasn't the one who got drunk at pubs and flirted with everything that moved, after all. He'd show Charles what a 'groovy mutation' looked like, honestly.
"Well," Charles said finally, sighing, "I suppose we'll just have to figure something out. Pass me Wanda, you clearly can't hold both of them comfortably yet."
Wordlessly Erik handed over what he thought was the girl, although they both just looked like screaming red-faced gnomes to him. He was beginning to panic; he could just about handle teenaged mutants, but babies were another thing entirely. And what did Charles mean, we? Surely he wasn't suggesting they try to raise Erik's children here in the mansion, was he?
'Well, what else do you propose we do? I certainly hope you're not suggesting we give them up and letting them fend for themselves, Erik. They're your CHILDREN,' he chastised, not bothering to hide how appalled he was at the very suggestion. He paused, looking thoughtful. 'Very probably mutant children, at that.'
And of course Erik was never intending on abandoning them, but the prospect of actually raising them was so very daunting he didn't even know where to begin.
"We'll work something out," he agreed weakly, and it was one of the last times he would ever agree to one of Charles's plans, because Charles's plans were terrible.
XMFC, Erik/Charles, Disney!AU (Parent Trap) 2/2
Date: 2011-07-18 01:18 pm (UTC)Alright, that was an excuse; they hated each other on sight.
"I'm not going in a group with that goody two shoes Xavier kid, no way!" Pietro declared, crossing his arms and scowling. Wanda stomped her foot.
"At least my daddy's not evil like yours!" she shrieked, and Pietro yelled, "Shut up, you X-twerps don't know nothing about my dad-"
"CHILDREN, CHILDREN," the camp leader shouted. "Calm down or I'll put you both in solitary, together!"
Which was an effective enough threat to shut them up in the moment, but not the next day, or the day after that - "What kind of a lame power is super speed? So you can run real fast, so what?" "At least it's actually useful unlike your dumb party trick!" "My power is not a party trick, take that back!" - so eventually the nominally responsible adults threw in the towel and chucked them in a room together for the rest of the trip.
XMFC, Erik/Charles, Disney!AU (Parent Trap) 2B/2 *shifty*
Date: 2011-07-18 01:19 pm (UTC)"Who's that," Pietro said grudgingly, when he saw Wanda setting down photo frames on her side of the dresser, pointing at a woman in the frame. "'sat your mum?"
"Nope, I don't have a mum," Wanda said, not sounding overly bothered by the fact. "That's my Aunt Mystique. She's blue," Wanda added smugly, "and she can shapechange into anything."
"Well my Uncle Azazel is red," Pietro retorted. "And he can teleport! So there!"
Wanda sniffed, and there was silence for a moment until she tentatively offered, "It's pretty cool that he can teleport."
"Yeah, well," Pietro mumbled, shrugging awkwardly. "You're aunt's pretty cool too. And he's not my uncle, really. I just call him that."
Wanda nodded wisely. "My dad's not really my dad either," she confided. "He and my real dad split up when I was a baby, so he's taken care of me ever since. But he's just as good as any dad. Better, even."
"Really? Me too!" Pietro said, excited. "Only, my dad is my real dad. But I had another dad, when I was a baby, and they split up, so all I've got is this old ripped photo."
Wanda bolted upright, eyes wide. "Me too! I have an old photo of my other dad too! And it's ripped too!"
Pietro stared. "Seriously? This is too freaky."
"Okay," Wanda said, "okay, do you have your photo here, because I totally do."
Pietro grabbed for his bag and dug out a grubby, well-loved scrap of paper without saying a word. "Let's show each other on three," he suggested, and Wanda nodded.
"One... two..."
"OH MY GOD THAT'S MY DAD. YOU'VE GOT A PHOTO OF MY DAD," Pietro yelled, not waiting for three, and Wanda swiped both scraps of photo from him so she could stare at them in disbelief.
"They fit together!" she shrieked back. "Look, look, they fit together! Your dad is my dad! My dad is your dad! AAAAAAAH."
"AAAAAAAAAAAAH," Pietro agreed, whizzing around the small room so fast that paper flew everywhere and the curtains tangled in the air until Wanda yelled, "Stop, STOP!"
"We're like, siblings!" he said, a little hysterically. "We're like siblings and Dad totally lied to me! My sister is an X-Man! My other Dad is Professor X! My whole life is a lie!"
Wanda rolled her eyes, equilibrium slightly restored by Pietro's freak out. "Don't be so melodramatic," she said. "So they lied, big deal. Adults do that stuff all the time. Shut up for a moment and just listen, okay? I've got an awesome idea about how we could both find out more about our other dads and what happened."
"Yeah? I'm listening," Pietro said suspiciously.
"Why don't I use my power to swap us so you can go home with Dad and I can go home with Mag-- our other dad?" she said. "It would be awesome! And then eventually they'd have to meet again to swap us back, right?"
Pietro looked at her with new respect. "I'm sorry I called your power a party trick," he said, only a little grudgingly, and Wanda preened. "But if you can do that, how come you can't just put everything back the way it was before the broke up? And how do you know Professor X won't be able to tell, anyways?"
Wanda shrugged. "I don't know if I'm strong enough to mess with things that much yet. Besides, until we find out how they got together and what went wrong, it's too dangerous to mess with. Who knows what could happen? And you've had some training against mind-readers, right? It's worth a try, anyway."
"Okay," Pietro said slowly, and then started to grin. "Sure, it's worth a try. Let's do this thing!"
Re: XMFC, Erik/Charles, Disney!AU (Parent Trap) 2B/2 *shifty*
Date: 2011-07-18 10:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 10:45 am (UTC)Actually the iPad LJ app does save drafts. All the time. Did you make it crash?
no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 10:51 am (UTC)Do you want an AU comment fic?
no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 11:22 am (UTC)Yeah, that was your mistake. If you just switch from the post screen to another part of the LJ app, or exit and go to another app, a draft is saved immediately.
AU comment fic ... I'm currently on bus home so let's see what you do before I get home, eat dinner, shower and get back online.
Thor and Loki, sons of a media mogul, a huge error of judgment with succession of the company at stake. (Yeah, I've been reading too many News Corp Murdoch Brooks hacking scandal articles recently).
Subaru and Seishirou, by way of a classic Grimm fairytale. The original dark ones, not Disney-fied.
Xavier and Erik with the baby mutants, only as a legal team with a misfit bunch of juniors, paras, students, etc. and a big matter on the line. Your choice as to whether it's litigation or transactional.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 11:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 12:18 pm (UTC)Thor and Loki, #7
Assassin's Creed, #17
Tokyo Babylon/X, #13
(Changing from X-Men because I see you've already done a few for that)
no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 12:52 pm (UTC)I may need you to choose another number for Assassin's Creed, just because... I'm not sure how I'd achieve a historical AU of something that is already set in multiple periods of history, really... XD
no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 01:10 pm (UTC)AC #9
Thor, Thor + Loki, Lawyer!AU
Date: 2011-07-19 03:31 am (UTC)"Oh, I can't, hm?" Odin said, frowning, and Loki flinched. Bad move; uncharacteristically bad choice of words. "Who precisely do you think you're dealing with, to tell me what I can and can't do?"
Odin cut a more than imposing figure, and Loki shrank back, intimidated even though he wasn't completely sure what he expected his father to do, precisely. There was no point being ashamed; multinational corporations quailed in fear of the managing partner of Asgard Law, so it was perfectly reasonable for Loki to do the same. Sensible, even.
"Father, surely you must know what Thor is like," Loki pleaded, slightly subdued now. "He's a walking lawsuit! He spent his entire time at Harvard getting drunk with his frat buddies and barely scraping his way through law. I don't think he even knows what a tort is. Legal ethics is just that boring course everyone sleeps through to him. If you make him an associate, he'll be up before the Bar in about three weeks flat, and that's a conservative estimate!"
Odin sighed. "Loki," he said, "I know you are jealous of your brother, but..."
"I am not jealous," Loki spat, even though he was, kind of. He'd studied his ass off; he'd actually done all the reading for every single course, he had color-coded summaries that people shed blood to get their hands on, he had topped his way through his entire degree and he knew the law backwards and forwards, but did Odin care? No, because he wasn't Thor.
That wasn't the point, though. Not entirely.
"Did it never occur to you I might be worried?" Loki continued, waving his hands. "About Thor, about the firm? He's not ready for this. He doesn't know the meaning of professional conduct! He rocks in at whatever time the hangover wears off, without even bothering to put on a tie, and pawns any work he gets off onto someone else. Not to mention that he has somehow managed to sexually harass EVERY SINGLE ONE of the secretaries and paralegals, including the men! Do you know how many support staff we have in this office? Because there are a lot."
Loki stood there, panting slightly with exertion, and Odin squinted back at him with his one good eye.
"Loki," he said slowly, "you're a paralegal."
"You think I don't know that?" Loki snapped. "I said all of them, and I meant all of them!"
There was an awkward pause, and then Odin coughed.
"I'm sorry, Loki, but my word is final," he said, apparently deciding to pretend that last part of the conversation never happened. "I understand your concerns, but I think you underestimate your brother. I'm growing old, you know. If I leave it too long you boys taking over the firm will no longer be an option."
And Loki doesn't even want to be Senior Partner, not really, but he doesn't want to see his family's firm go down the drain while Thor pisses their reputation up against the wall, either. He loves his brother, as much as he resents him, and thinks that Thor could even be a good lawyer one day if he'd just grow up a bit. He's not actually stupid, even if he acts like it, and he's got a good grasp of basic principles that could be actual skill if he'd only bother to crack open a textbook for once in his overly indulgent life.
Right now, however, Thor is an overgrown frat boy. There's no way he's ready to represent the firm; Loki knows that this isn't good for anyone, not Odin, not Thor, and not Loki either.
He has got to find a way to change Odin's mind.
Tokyo Babylon/X, Seishirou/Subaru, Actor!AU (take 2. DAMN FORMATTING.)
Date: 2011-07-21 01:26 am (UTC)"Seishirou-san," he chokes--
--HOKUTO! he screamed, but it was too late; the bodice of her dress was torn, soaked in red, the knife that should have been a stage prop buried in her chest, and she slumped limply in Seishirou's arm, painting him the colour of murder.
Subaru had seen it in her eyes; she had known the knife was real, and yet she'd still let Seishirou stab her with it.
Seishirou knew, of course. He'd planned it; not even Subaru could deny that much, when Seishirou stood there smirking with cruel and vicious victory--
--Seishirou's lips are crimson and sticky with blood. So much blood, everywhere, and Subaru can't understand how this happened. He'd been so sure, the last time they were on stage together and Seishirou's character had pulled a knife on Subaru's, that this was it; that finally Subaru was to meet his end like Hokuto, like her death was a prelude to the finale of his relationship with Seishirou; but the show went on, as they must, and Subaru lived. The knife was a prop, as it should have been. Subaru had assumed Seishirou had bored of him so much it wasn't even worth the trouble of killing him.
Yet now... now...
Somehow it was Subaru whose prop had been switched for a weapon, with him none the wiser until he had stabbed Seishirou through the heart as Seishirou had done to his sister.
"Subaru-kun," Seishirou murmurs against his ear, gurgled and gasping but still impossibly amused--
--"Did you truly believe me?" Seishirou said, cruel with condescension. "We're actors, Subaru-kun; surely you must know what it means to play a role."
Subaru felt his eyes tear up, blinking rapidly in a futile attempt to clear his gaze. "But... do you really feel nothing for me, Seishirou-san? After everything you've said...?"
Seishirou laughed. "Words, words, mere words," he mocked. "All the world's a stage, Subaru-kun, and all the men and women merely players. Shouldn't you know that by now?"
And Subaru remembered the first time they'd met, how Seishirou had smiled and said, let's play a game, Subaru-kun, but he hadn't known until now what that meant, hadn't seen until now the truth that Hokuto had tried to warn him of.
Hokuto was the kind of actor who developed every role out of a facet of her own personality, grown and exaggerated to make a whole new existence. Subaru had always been more comfortable backstage, only driven to acting by the pressure of expectation and family dynasty, but when he acted, he thought about what the character must think and feel, and tried his best to understand them.
Seishirou, he finally understood, was the kind of person who assumed emotions and identities like slipping on a cloak, shifting sands and masks and mirrors that concealed everything while making you believe that what you saw was real. Hokuto had joked sometimes that Seishirou was a sociopath, so good at acting because it was his natural state of being. Joked? No; a warning disguised as a joke, that Subaru had been too blind to understand.
Seishirou had never really loved him, was not even capable of loving him, Subaru realised, his heart breaking into a million pieces--
--"Who could refrain, that had a heart to love and in that heart courage to make love known?" Seishirou murmurs, and Subaru flinches back, because even now, Seishirou mocks him, speaking of love through the mouth of Macbeth.
Seishirou stops him, though, marking his cheek with a surprisingly gentle bloody hand-print.
"I'll follow thee and make a heaven of hell," he says. "To die upon the hand I love so well."
And Subaru's breath catches, because he can't believe it, he can't, and yet there is no denying the truth of Seishirou dying in his arms by his own free will.
"No," he sobs, heedless of the harsh stage lights, of the screaming panic of the people around them realising this is no mere pretense, "No!"
-- but it is too late; exit stage left; Subaru is and was and forever will be alone.
Sekaiichi Hatsukoi, Masamune/Ritsu, Harry Potter!AU
Date: 2011-07-21 12:48 pm (UTC)Essentially, Masamune thought, the Sorting Hat was a fraud.
It was all very well in theory, sorting kids by their personality traits; very two-dimensional, of course, and divisive, not to mention bloody fucking stupid putting all the ambitious people from nasty backgrounds in one place. Masamune is not quite sure how nobody thought the whole idea of Slytherin was terrible long before it went repeatedly wrong, but who was he to talk? He was a Slytherin himself, and he knew he belonged there. It wasn't something he was particularly proud of or wanted to spend seven years of his life dwelling upon, but it was a fact.
Where the system really messed up, though, was the fact that it didn't even work. Masamune deeply suspected that it was at least 50% self-fulfilling prophecy even when it did, and the rest of the time... Historically speaking, Peter Pettigrew was hardly what one would call "brave".
And Ritsu...
Well, Ritsu hadn't proven to be very loyal at all in the end, had he?
Masamune would be the first to admit he wasn't a very nice guy. Originally when Ritsu had confessed to him, it had just been for fun, playing the naive little Hufflepuff - but he was the one who'd ended up getting played. Ritsu had hexed him and run off to America, of all places, and then Masamune hadn't known what to believe, between all the rumours and the discovery that he was maybe a bit more invested than he'd thought in their sham of a relationship.
But now Ritsu was back, and he was working for Masamune, the game was back on, this time with no House affiliations involved. Masamune wasn't going to lose again: he was going to make Ritsu admit he loved him, no spells, no potions.
And this time, he was playing for keeps.
In response to IM prompts: XMFC, gen-ish (hints of Erik/Charles), Harry Potter AU
Date: 2011-07-18 10:55 am (UTC)What they didn't understand, not being Charles's sister, was that he was actually a devious cunning bastard. Raven had never seen a more Slytherin-like Slytherin in her entire life. These silly kids failed to appreciate that House selection was not based on political views, but rather on method, on personality. Erik might be severe and terrifying and prejudiced against muggles (but never against muggle-born; he himself was from a muggle family, a curious incongruence that Charles never failed to take advantage of in making a point), and Charles may be cheerful and likeable in his own arrogant, privileged way - he might love muggles and argue for integration while Erik shouted about persecution, and if that was all you looked at, then by all means, Raven supposed she could see where her fellow students were coming from.
But what they missed, what they didn't see... it could fill an encyclopaedia. Erik was brave and straightforward, always barreling through all the hell life put him through in a grim, determined line, following his path through to the end no matter what it cost him, and Raven could identify with that. She herself was a Gryffindor, after all.
Charles, on the other hand - Charles was an expert leglimens, a master of memory charms. He didn't face people head-on, in a fair fight. He twisted people's minds, shaping them to his own ends, and it was all the worse because he was so self-righteous in his moral superiority. His ambitions may be idealistic, but they were still ambitions, nonetheless; people had a tendency to forget that.
Raven loved Charles, but she'd seen what he would do in order to keep a stray, homeless metamorphmagus as his sister, and she never doubted, not for one second, that her brother was a born Slytherin.
In response to IM prompts: XMFC, Erik/Charles, Writer!AU
Date: 2011-07-18 10:58 am (UTC)"Charles," he finally exclaimed, once he had exhausted his rage enough to form actual coherent sentences. "This is the third time! No more excuses, or I will chain you to your desk! Your chair is metal, in case you have forgotten!"
"I have not forgotten," Charles said sullenly. "And really, Erik, don't you think that's a bit over the top? I apologise for missing the deadline, but surely you must understand that writing is an art. It cannot be forced. How can you expect me to meet deadlines in the face of writer's block?"
"And yet you managed to write your PhD," Erik growled, slamming his hands on the desk, ignoring Charles's mental protest at how very different that was. "Who do you think has to deal with the printers when you go overtime?"
"I'm sorry, Erik, but I just don't have the inspiration," Charles said, sounding more blase than apologetic. "It will get written when it wants to be written."
Erik twitched. "Not good enough, Charles," he said. "How can you be lacking for inspiration? You read minds! Surely you must know what people want to read."
"Well, that just shows how little you appreciate what goes into writing a good novel," Charles said, a bit huffily. "Inspiration must come from within, Erik."
"Please do not tell me this is going to end in another speech about rage and serenity," Erik said wearily.
"Well, no, of course not," Charles said. "That would be silly, it's an entirely different state of-- Erik? Erik?"
"I'll show you inspiration," Erik muttered, knowing even as he pinned Charles back in his chair and felt the mental wash of exultation that he was on the losing end of this exchange, and not caring anyway.
Blasted artistic types; you could never win. Erik supposed the only saving grace was that at least Charles had never decided to continue with academia after publishing his thesis, because Professor Xavier might very well be too much to bear.
In response to IM prompts: Ouran (why yes there ARE other fandoms), Kyouya/Tamaki, Superpowers!AU
Date: 2011-07-18 11:04 am (UTC)"Haruhi," he says insistently, "Haruhi, do you think there is a special ability for understanding normal people?"
"Yes," she answers flatly, not looking up from her work. "It's called 'common sense', or possibly 'a brain'."
The words are sharp, but the ebb of her emotions is merely amused, indulgant, a little exasperated; despite herself she is fond of him.
He opens his mouth to say something else that to her will no doubt be just as silly, if not more so, for Tamaki does not mind being ridiculous as long as people can be happy, but that is the moment that Kyouya returns, his impatience a thin veneer over the deep well of affection and devotion directed towards Tamaki himself. 'I hope you are not distracting Haruhi from the accounts,' his voice scolds in Tamaki's mind, strict and uncompromising, but Tamaki smiles; he is safe and secure in the feeling of Kyouya's emotions, always softer than his tone.
"I'm not bothering anybody," he says out loud, knowing it to be true, and in the moment is utterly content with his abilities.
Re: In response to IM prompts: Ouran (why yes there ARE other fandoms), Kyouya/Tamaki, Superpowers!A
Date: 2011-07-18 11:04 am (UTC)Very little is not within his power, one way or another. And by "reasonably strong moral code", Haruhi suspects Kyouya may actually be relying on a checklist of whether something will disappoint Tamaki, which is a slightly disturbing thought.
Kyouya is a frightening individual, but Haruhi is not frightened of him, not really; she does not think he will hurt her, not least because Tamaki would be upset. Of course, Kyouya could make her feel that way. Kyouya could have overwritten her mind and she would never even know it.
There is one thing she is certain of, though, and that is that Kyouya has never, would never do that to Tamaki.
"Why?" she asks once, knowing she does not need to clarify, and Kyouya studies her thoughtfully for a moment before he adjusts his glasses and turns to face her fully.
"Because it has never even occurred to him that I could," he says calmly. "Not once. He lets me into every corner of his mind without hiding a thing, without a shred of fear, and it never even occurs to him that I could hurt him. He thinks my telepathy is amazing, not a weapon. He trusts me absolutely. And that is why I will never, ever use it against him. I haven't told him this, because I don't need to. Do you understand?"
And Haruhi does, because she is not afraid of Kyouya, but even she knows the value of wariness; that blind naivete, that absolute trust, that is something that is Tamaki's and Tamaki's alone to give.
"Yes," she says, "I do."
~
Haruhi is one hundred percent okay with being normal.
A lot of people in her position may envy all the special abilities around them, empaths like Tamaki, telepaths like Kyouya, Mori with his super strength and the twins with their shapeshifting and Hunny with his speed, but not Haruhi. The abilities do have their uses, it's true, but she can generally rely on her friends to use their abilities for her; and they may be cool, but Haruhi presumes the coolness factor is much less of an issue when these powers are just a part of who you are. If you listen to Tamaki, everyone else's abilities are cool - your own are simply a fact of life.
Besides, judging by the people she hangs around with every day, she thinks that there is a trade off involved between having abilities and being an ordinary human being, and that trade off appears to be common sense. Some of the club members manage to seem almost sensible most of the time, like Mori and Kyouya, but then they do something that reminds her just how insane her friends really are. Especially Kyouya. He does things with his powers and his position in life both that seem perfectly reasonable until you stop and think about the utter extremity of what he is doing, and that's the most terrifying thing of all.
So Haruhi is just fine without powers, thanks. She'd rather have common sense, and someone in the club needs to exert a little sanity every now and then, because she shudders to think where they'd be otherwise.
Besides, it's not like she needs it to protect herself.
"Haruhi," Tamaki says, awed even while flinching from the pain vicarious and imaginery alike, "Haruhi, how can you be so amazing without powers? Are you sure you don't have super strength like Mori?"
"Yes, I'm sure," she says, rolling her eyes. "And it's not that amazing, I just kicked him in the balls. How did you even live to be this age, anyway?"
And that - that is why they need her for common sense, because a swift kick to the groin might be harsh, but it's a far more reasonable response than the mindfuck Kyouya was about to go for.
Honestly, these people.
Re: In response to IM prompts: Ouran (why yes there ARE other fandoms), Kyouya/Tamaki, Superpowers!A
Date: 2011-07-19 11:18 am (UTC)Re: In response to IM prompts: XMFC, gen-ish (hints of Erik/Charles), Harry Potter AU
Date: 2011-07-18 11:54 am (UTC)Re: In response to IM prompts: XMFC, gen-ish (hints of Erik/Charles), Harry Potter AU
Date: 2011-07-18 12:02 pm (UTC)Fault of the original author, really. She failed to make any inherently likeable Slytherins (that weren't inherently sociopaths, c.f. Tom Riddle and Grindelwald) so they became akin to a mythical beast, rumoured but never confirmed to exist.
Want to try a prompt? Instructions up in the post!
no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 05:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-19 02:40 am (UTC)So I would like to see a return of Maya, if for nothing more than proper resolution.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 05:14 pm (UTC)Milhaust/Agarte, 2
HUH I'LL THINK OF MORE LATER
Tales of Hearts, Hisui/Shing/Kohak, Spy!AU
Date: 2011-07-19 08:52 am (UTC)“Brother! Stop being so stubborn,” Kohak scolded. “Richea says--”
“I don’t care what Richea says, he’s not coming!” Hisui growled. “This is a real spy mission, for real spies with real skills like arse-kicking and stealth.”
“Don’t be mean,” Kohak said, reproachful. “You know how much it hurts Shing’s feelings when you say he’s not a real spy.”
“But he isn’t!” Hisui said, frustrated. “He’s a liability! He’s going to get in trouble, because he always gets in trouble, and then it’ll be up to you or me to stop him getting himself hurt or killed!”
“Thus compromising our safety and our mission,” Kohak finished, with the slight sing-song mockery of someone quoting from memory.
“Huh?”
“You’re slipping, brother, you forgot the parts of your rant that are supposed to make it sound like you’re not just worried about Shing,” Kohak said innocently.
“Whatever, I am not,” Hisui said, completely unconvincingly. “I don’t care what happens to him. He puts you in danger. That’s all.”
“Uh huh,” Kohak said. She gave Hisui a Look, and he deflated.
“He’s the worst spy ever,” Hisui muttered, disconsolate, and Kohak patted him on the shoulder.
“I think that’s a bit harsh,” she said. “He’s getting better, at least?”
Hisui sighed. “Like that would be hard,” he grumbled, then raised his voice. “Hurry up, Shing, or we’re leaving you behind!”
Tales of Rebirth, Milhaust/Agarte, Mythical/Mythological!AU
Date: 2011-07-21 07:09 am (UTC)"I'll die either way," Agarte tells him, passionate in her hyperbole. "I will die of a broken heart, you know I will."
He has loved her, and loved her well, but always from afar: she the goddess of dawn, beautiful and immortal, he her faithful but lowly servant. Men laud him as brave and honourable, forever faithful to his duty. Milhaust wonders if it is truly honour and courage that bind him and not cowardice, fear of loving his princess in spite of the consequence. She is the daughter of the God of War, granddaughter to the Earth and the Sky; he is a mere human. It is arrogance to love her, and so he loves distantly.
And yet despite this, she offers her immortality to him, a man, whose life is so fleeting and meaningless in the span of her own. A man, who will wither and die. A man who is so far below her to be beneath any possible notice.
"Princess," he implores, "Agarte. You cannot throw your life away for me. What will your father say?"
"What should I care?" she says, scornful. "If you love me, Sir Milhaust, I would be anything; gladly would I give up my immortality, so that I may age and die alongside you. And if you do not, then I would rather die right now than live a thousand years more without you."
And he could never deny her anything, so he says yes: yes, consigning her to a life cut short, and he to the wrath of the heavens.
There is a time for cowardly honour and a time for couragous disgrace, however; and Milhaust knows that there was never any other choice he could have made.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-19 02:43 am (UTC)OR WHAT EVER POKEMONS IS
XMFC, Erik/Charles, Musician!AU
Date: 2011-07-19 09:48 am (UTC)There is metal in a piano, of course, but it is not made of metal. The body of the instrument is wood; the keys, ebony and ivory. Or wood, nowadays. Plastic, even, depending on how cheap it is. Metal does not sing to Charles the way it does to Erik, but nevertheless, he imagines that his mutation does not assist him in playing the piano. It may even distract, bits of metal pulling his attention from the wooden whole.
“Why would I want to play something metal?” Erik asks suddenly, hands stilling on the keys, and Charles blinks, looks up, startled out of his reverie.
“Hm?” he says vaguely. “Sorry, what?”
“You’re projecting,” Erik says dryly. “Why didn’t you do your doctorate in mutant abilities or human psychology? You seem fascinated enough by them.”
“I’m fascinated by musical theory, too,” Charles points out. “I’m fascinated by many things, Erik. I am an easily fascinated man.”
“But are you easily impressed?” Erik murmurs, fingers once more running up and down the scales.
“I suppose I might be,” Charles says, because he’s certainly always impressed by Erik. “Why wouldn’t you want to play something metal, anyway?”
“For a start,” Erik says, emphasising his pause with a chord, “it wouldn’t feel like an instrument then, simply a tool.”
This distinction is lost on Charles. “I’m afraid you’ll have to elaborate, my friend.”
“When you conduct an orchestra,” Erik says, idle, still absorbed by his playing, “do you listen to their music, or their minds?”
Charles hesitates, thoughtful. “I don’t know,” he says slowly. “Both, really.”
“And that is why you don’t understand,” Erik tells him, hands coming to a stop. “Because for you, music and mutation are intertwined. For me, it is the one thing I have outside of my ability. It is beautiful because it is separate.”
Charles is silent, processing.
“You’ve spoken to me before of rage and serenity, and a place in-between,” Erik continues, and starts to play again. Mozart. “Perhaps it would be true to say that if I utilise rage for my power, my playings draws from serenity.”
He says: “My mother taught me to play, you know. When I was young.”
He says: “Would you like to see for yourself?”
And Charles says yes, because there is one thing that fascinates him more than musical theory, more than human psychology and mutant genetics combined, and that is the man seated in front of the piano.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-21 05:30 am (UTC)*stares*
EDITED TO ADD BONUS, though, they're just in case the mood strikes you:
- 22, Hanakimi, Akiha/Umeda
- 19, Gravitation, Yuki/Shuuichi
- 3, Junjou Romantica, Nowaki/Hiroki
- 8, One Piece, Luffy/Nami
- 24, Fullmetal Alchemist, Roy/Ed
no subject
Date: 2011-07-21 01:17 pm (UTC)Just so you know, asshole, I very almost trolled you with a Lion King AU. But I decided not to. Because I am a BETTER PERSON THAN THAT. And I like, have artistic integrity and shit. SHUT UP, STOP LAUGHING, I TOTALLY
SOMETIMESDO.When Meg is not trying to make me write terrible, terrible Pokemon-themed AUs.You know, technically I could even make it a Ghibli AU because apparently Disney has the English licence.
I mean, I'm not going to. I just thought you'd be interested to know. And yes, I have decided, and no, I'm not telling you. Nyer~
KRK, Kagami/Tendou, Disney!AU (Beauty & The Beast) 1/2
Date: 2011-07-22 02:07 am (UTC)"He won't hurt you," Kagami Sr. said vaguely. "You'll be fine."
"Yeah," Kagami muttered, "right."
Sometimes, he kind of hated his dad.
Fuck his fucking life, seriously.
~
So the thing was, Kabuto was this like, half-man, half-machine, half-beast creature. Which was too many halves, but whatever. In fact, he was basically some kind of super-funky ZECT Rider, which caused Kagami suspicious pause, but sure, fine, he could roll with that. He wasn't really scared or anything; mostly he just thought it was pretty cool.
That wasn't the problem.
The problem was that Kabuto was kind of an asshole All, stay out of my kitchen! this, and, stay away from my sister! that, and, I am the man who walks the path of Heaven!
And what the hell was with the talking furniture, anyway? Kabuto's "sister" was a teacup!
"What the fuck is even wrong with my life," Kagami moaned. The teacup, Juka, rattled sympathetically beside him.
"Onii-chan isn't really used to other people," she -- it?-- said, apologetic. "He likes you, really! Or else he wouldn't put up with you here at all! He's just not that good at showing it, yet."
"So basically you're telling me he failed kindergarten," Kagami summed up, rolling his eyes. "And this is the guy who I get to spend the rest of the foreseeable future with. Great."
~
Surprisingly enough, though, as Kagami got to know him a bit more, Kabuto started to grow on him. It wasn't that Kabuto was any less of an asshole - okay, maybe a teeny, tiny bit less of one - but Kagami started getting a little fond of him despite himself. Okay, a lot fond. For reasons he couldn't really fathom, but there you go.
It might have helped that Kagami had gotten a ZECTER of his own, even though Kabuto had had some kind of pissy fit of either over-protectiveness or jealousy - Kagami wasn't quite sure - before he'd finally gotten over himself.
Speaking of ZECTERs, though, Kagami thought, squinting suspiciously at Kabuto...
"Seriously, are you ever going to tell me why you look like some kind of mutant ZECT Rider?" he said tentatively. He'd been keeping his suspicions to himself, but everyone had their limit.
"It's a curse," Kabuto said, a bit snippy.
Kagami waited for further explanation, but it appeared none would be forthcoming.
"Okay, so does this have anything to do with that freaky rose in the kitchen?" he asked finally.
"How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of the kitchen," Kabuto growled, which Kagami took for a yes. Kabuto was bizarrely thingy about the kitchen, but Kagami got awesome food out of it, so he could live with that.
"Fine, don't tell me," he said, rolling his eyes. "It's not like I might be able to help, or anything."
"I'm glad you understand," Kabuto said agreeably, and Kagami snorted.
Asshole.
~
KRK, Kagami/Tendou, Disney!AU (Beauty & The Beast) 2/2
Date: 2011-07-22 02:08 am (UTC)One, because Mishima was the kind of slimy, creepy bastard who put Kabuto's slight asshole tendencies to shame, and back when he lived in town Kagami had often not been sure whether the guy was checking him out or measuring him up for a science experiment. (Either way: CREEPY.)
And two, because Kabuto was Kabuto and Kagami was fairly certain that he'd gone and threatened Mishima's manhood in a pretty comprehensive manner, even though Kabuto had refused to tell him what he'd done or why.
The whys and wherefores were not the important thing, however. What mattered was that Mishima was storming their castle, and Kagami and Kabuto were going to end him.
"Let's go take this creep down!" Kagami said.
"No," Kabuto said. "You stay here."
"What?" Kagami said, then realised he was locked in. "KABUTO, YOU ASSHOLE!"
If they got out of this alive, Kagami swore, he would kill that stupid arrogant idiot.
~
KRK, Kagami/Tendou, Disney!AU (Beauty & The Beast) 2B/2 (WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING)
Date: 2011-07-22 02:09 am (UTC)A number of things happened in a very short space of time.
One, Kagami busted out of the stupid bedroom, fuck Kabuto anyway, and ran through the kitchen, where he noticed that two, the last petal finally fell off Kabuto's freaky long-lasting rose, and this lead to three, running out onto the terrace to see Kabuto collapsing to the ground while Mishima stood there, smirking and victorious as he ground his heel into Kabuto's side.
And then it was all a blur of screaming, and transforming into Gatack, and flying at Mishima because he had no right to touch Kabuto like that and Kagami was going to beat his face in for trying.
But in the back of his mind he was thinking, get up, Kabuto. Get up. Get up, you asshole. Because he trusted Kabuto not to be dead, and he trusted Kabuto to have his back. Because they were a team.
Because they would beat Mishima together, Kagami knew, and all his faith was rewarded when he aimed a kick at Mishima and sensed Kabuto beside him, mirroring him, the combined force of their movement sending Mishima screaming and plummeting over the edge to his very well-deserved death.
Kagami turned to yell at Kabuto for scaring him like that, not to mention locking him in his bedroom, but he was kind of distracted by the fact that Kabuto was glowing, black on gold like staring directly at the sun.
"Huh?" Kagami said, and then, instead of Kabuto, there was...
"Hi," the guy said. "Sorry, I guess I should introduce myself properly. Tendou Souji. As in the man who will rule the path of Heaven."
Oh, typical.
"Onii-chan!" Juka yelled, flying into his arms. Kabuto -- Tendou -- caught her and held her protectively close, grin just as smug as Kagami had always known it would be.
"What," Kagami said flatly.
"I told you I was cursed, didn't I?" Tendou said archly.
"Onii-chan was cursed into this half beast, half ZECTER state by this guy calling himself The Bee," Juka explained, taking pity. "If he didn't find someone he could trust as an equal and who trusted him in return by the time the last petal fell, he would die."
It took a moment for this to sink in, and then when it did, Kagami had to pause and take a deep breath while his vision literally whited out in outrage.
"Wait," he said, the deceptive calm before the building indignant rant. "Wait, are you seriously telling me that that's it? This whole time, all you had to do to turn back into a human was learn to play nice? You almost died because you fail at teamwork? Tendou, you asshole!"
"The path of Heaven is meant to be walked alone," Tendou said, a bit sullenly.
"I'll path of Heaven you," Kagami muttered, but without much heat. He'd already known Tendou was a whack job, and at least this was proof that he viewed Kagami as an equal now.
Besides, there were more important problems here, namely -
"Anyway, why did none of you jerks tell me he was human?" Kagami demanded. "Or hot?"
"I would have thought that would be obvious," Tendou said snootily, then, "OW!" when Kagami punched him in the arm.
Kabuto or not, it was a fact: Tendou was kind of an asshole.
Lucky for him, though, Kagami was a masochist who apparently loved him anyway.
"Seriously, fuck my fucking life," Kagami sighed, and kissed the stupid asshole.
Fullmetal Alchemist, Roy/Ed, Pirate!AU
Date: 2011-07-24 12:07 pm (UTC)At seventeen, Edward Elric has come to realise that there are many ways in which Roy is more of a naïve child than he himself is. Roy has seen many terrible things done by terrible people, it is true; yet somehow, despite this, he still retains this child-like faith that there is good in men, if only they are led wisely. That such a thing as justice actually exists.
Ed is a cynic, and he believes in nothing at all, certainly not Roy's idealism. He knows that man is ultimately selfish, motivated by self-gain and preservation. While he is not so jaded as to rule out the existence of love – he loves his brother Al; that he will not deny – he thinks that at its base it too is a selfish emotion, albeit one kinder than most. He certainly doesn't trust that men can truly and purely give themselves over to ideals without ulterior motive; in his opinion, ideals are too distant, too high-flown to overcome the inherent natural drive to put one's own needs and desires first.
But regardless of Ed's cynicism and his better judgement, he cannot help but want to assist Roy, want to believe in him and his foolish cause. Ed is selfish, and so he will always look out for he and his brother first and foremost, but where these duties do not conflict he will do whatever he can to support Captain Roy Mustang's crusade.
That is the hell of the man, the way he attracts followers, believers, loyal men and women drawn in by his charisma. Ed does not want to be one of them and he will never admit that he is, spitting venom and contemptuous disdain in order to preserve his fragile pride, but there is something about Roy that commands not just respect but also devotion, and extraordinary as he is in other ways, Ed is not immune to it.
He kind of hates Roy a little, for that.
~
“I AM NO ONE'S CABIN BOY!” Ed howls, outraged. “COME BACK HERE, YOU SHIT CAPTAIN!”
Roy smirks, so smug that it rolls off him in fucking waves, and Ed longs to wipe that look off the asshole's face with his fists.
“Is that a way to speak to your captain, small fry?” he taunts, and Ed struggles fiercely against Bossun Armstrong's hold, desperate to free himself just so he can kick Roy in his stupid bastard head.
“WHO ARE YOU CALLING SMALL?” he snarls, flailing his legs above the deck in wild vicious futility.
“Oh, by all means, I look forward to it,” Roy tells him cheerfully. Ed lets out an guttural noise of animalistic rage, rendered pre-verbal by his fury.
“Captain,” First Mate Hawkeye says disapprovingly, “Stop provoking him.”
"But it's so much fun," Roy says, and the challenging grin he shoots across the deck is for Ed and Ed alone. It says: Do your best. I dare you.
One day, Ed swears to himself, red-faced and panting as he dangles from Armstrong's hold, he will fucking kill that fuckhead.
Hanakimi, Akiha/Umeda, Space!AU (Star Trek)
Date: 2011-07-29 01:50 am (UTC)Umeda ignores the part where this is sadly all filthy rotten and above all delusional lies, because he is quite good at self-delusion, and he would much rather tell himself these comforting lies that make him feel better about how much he wants to strangle Akiha on a daily basis than deal with the sad, pathetic truth that he would put a stop to Akiha's inevitable death-by-Klingon, assuming Akiha didn't do it himself first by being irritatingly and incomprehensibly competent, or he would die trying.
Umeda is allergic to caring. Akiha has ruined his whole fucking life, he is sure of it.
Hanakimi, Akiha/Umeda, Space!AU (Star Trek) 2
Date: 2011-07-29 02:00 am (UTC)* Umeda is the First Officer because Akiha wheedled him into it. There was emotional and possibly even literal blackmail involved. He doesn't like to talk about it, mostly because it would mean admitting that the real reason he agreed was because he thought Akiha would probably get his stupid head bashed in if he took an inferior First Officer.
* They did have a Science Officer. Once. Umeda fired him for incompetence, and Akiha rolled with it, because that's what he does. He's nice to the peons, but he doesn't stop Umeda terrorising them as he will. The upshot of all this is that Umeda now has two jobs. But that's okay, because both appeal to his talents: yelling at Akiha, and bossing around minions. Also occasionally killing stuff, which is good for his anger management.
* Umeda was on the medical track before he switched into the command track. He might have fired their CMO by now, but he mostly actually likes Ebi, and she's not that incompetent by people-who-are-not-Umeda standards (even though he persists on pointing out minor errors every time he has to go to medbay - it wouldn't do to let her get too comfortable). Then there's the minor detail that Akiha might not actually let Umeda fire her, because they used to be a couple and Akiha somehow manages to achieve amiable exes, which shouldn't even be possible. Umeda is less bitter about all of this than people (Io) accuse him of being.
Not to mention that having three jobs would be a bit ridiculous, even though Umeda is sure he could totally run a whole starship if he wanted to. Ebi might also have pointed out to him that CMO is a full time job and he couldn't do it at the same time as being First Officer, because he'd have to spend most of his time in the medbay, not chasing after Captain Akiha. Umeda had briefly lit up at that before she reminded him how much time Akiha spent in medbay with various ridiculous injuries, and how annoyingly whiny he was when he was sick or hurt. She then added that of course, Akiha might alternatively end up in the morgue without Umeda as back up, so there was that option?
Umeda let her keep her stupid job, jesus.
* There is a rumour amongst some crewmates that Umeda is secretly a Vulcan or something, because he is scary efficient. Okay, mostly he's scary efficient at yelling at the Captain and ordering around science peons, but still. And he's scary smart, too! People with actual sense make the valid point that a) he doesn't even look like a Vulcan and b) that aside, he's angry, like, all the time. Which they are pretty sure is frowned upon on Vulcan. What with it being an emotion and all. Umeda is pretty emotional.
The rumour persists, though. Akiha thinks it's hysterical. Umeda finds it annoyingly illogical, which just annoys him more for the ridiculous irony of that. Perpetuating this stupid theory is basically an automatic firing offence for any of Umeda's science peons. Not because it pisses him off, but because it shows woolly thinking that clearly isn't appropriate to a scientist. If they can't even come to the logical, scientific conclusion that OBVIOUSLY UMEDA IS NOT A VULCAN, they are not fit to work under him as scientists.