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mwffj and lithiumlaughter:
Give me the name of one of my ships. I’ll put my MP3 player on shuffle andmake a graphic based on the song. (Optional: I'll also write drabbles for each ship/song combo.)
Who do I ship? Oh, goodness. Just consider anything het from the following fandoms and I've probably considered shipping it:
X-Men (any 'verse ~ don't know Ultimate, Wolvie, or Animated Series well)
The Secret Garden
Take the Lead
Mandie Movieverse
Razor Sharp
Andromeda
Roswell
Divergent
(I've got a few more, but I think that'll do, don't you? Try me if you want something else.)
mwffj and lithiumlaughter:Give me the name of one of my ships. I’ll put my MP3 player on shuffle and
Who do I ship? Oh, goodness. Just consider anything het from the following fandoms and I've probably considered shipping it:
X-Men (any 'verse ~ don't know Ultimate, Wolvie, or Animated Series well)
The Secret Garden
Take the Lead
Mandie Movieverse
Razor Sharp
Andromeda
Roswell
Divergent
(I've got a few more, but I think that'll do, don't you? Try me if you want something else.)
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no subject
Date: 2011-08-24 03:58 am (UTC)LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE.
no subject
Date: 2011-08-24 01:39 pm (UTC)Amazing
Date: 2011-08-24 02:46 pm (UTC)Summary: Not everyhing can be painted in black and white. Hank/Raven
Song: "Colour Everywhere" by Deana Carter
Not my best work, but here you are!
Hank was an academic researcher. He was a mutant in hiding. The world around him held only enough interest to determine if he could use it in his studies. Black and white, numbers, technology and genetics bending to his focused touch.
Then she happened.
"So you're mutation is that you're super smart?"
"I wish that were all."
She saw him at his worst, his ugliest part, and smiled at him with the radiance of a golden sun. "You're amazing," she said.
Suddenly, Hank was no longer just an academic researcher. He was a lovestruck schoolboy. He saw the blue skies and the rich colors of her natural skin and the golden, sun-kissed beauty of her recolored self. Visions of rainbows danced through his suddenly lackluster reports. People became his fascination, one in particular.
He wanted to give her the world. And then she told him she did not want the world.
At first, all he could see was red and pain and anger and fear, and then when he finally saw himself in the mirror—through her eyes, maybe—blue...
He wondered if all she had really wanted was him.
Refuge
Date: 2011-08-24 02:55 pm (UTC)Summary: The world is at war between mutants and humans. John has one place of refuge. Kyro
Song: "Refuge" by Anne Maccallum
There was one place John could always go, no matter how far into the depths of hell and the oceans of blood he fell. There was one heart who would take him in her hands and pull him through the door into her tiny, clean apartment with its small knick-knacks and pictures of happier days—a haven against the ravages of war.
Xavier had been wrong. Magneto was right. And neither of them were alive to see it.
Kitty never asked. She never seemed to care if the blood on his hands and body were his or someone else's. She washed it off and changed his shirt and brought him water and food. They sat in silence: Pyro, the mutant warrior, and Shadowcat, the hidden hacker. Both were powerful forces in the mutant resistance; neither believed in the same things.
John believed in killing anyone who wanted to kill this tiny, woman hidden away from the rest world. Kitty believed in saving anyone who could not save themselves, whether from their own hates, their own fears, or even their own selves.
"Thank you," he finally said, setting down the empty bowl.
"You are always welcome here," she said.
He wanted to kiss her. He never did. Instead, the flames in the fireplace burned a little higher, he stayed a little longer, their hands whispered over jeans to clasp together.
Tomorrow, he would face the world again, the battle raging outside of these sheltering walls. He would not say goodbye.
no subject
Date: 2011-08-24 02:57 pm (UTC)Re: Amazing
Date: 2011-08-24 03:27 pm (UTC)And then you deliver the killing blow:
He wanted to give her the world. And then she told him she did not want the world.
Oh, goodness, ouch. That hit hard, fast, and well.
These two are perfectly tragic, and I've got to say that this feels so very right in the X-Men: First Class context. I was so choked by how the relationship between them got so very little, and how the fallout wasn't given a good deal of time...mainly because I wanted to ship them so hard.
(I may still want to, even post-film. "Mutant, and proud," she tells him. She still cares for him and it's wonderful)
Here, you give them -- and Henry specifically -- the moment they deserved. Thank you.
Re: Amazing
Date: 2011-08-24 04:11 pm (UTC)Re: Amazing
Date: 2011-08-24 04:18 pm (UTC)That's exactly HOW to forgive that comment! He wanted to give her the world. He wanted to give her what he defined as perfection, because he cared so deeply. He simply didn't understand exactly what SHE wanted.
You Never Called
Date: 2011-08-24 05:31 pm (UTC)Summary: Emma does not need help, even when she knows the only one who could. Charles/Emma
Song: "Here to Deliver" by Avalon
Emma hated the very idea of needing help. She did not need help, never had, never would. (Contrary to popular belief, lying to oneself could be a useful skill to cultivate.) She had been just a little girl the first time she felt the flicker of another's consciousness against her own, not yet a grown woman the first time she felt a telepath's surprise at meeting another telepath mind to mind, and at neither time did she want or appreciate assistance.
Company was not so bad.
The telepath was a boy and faintly amused. Of course, if you ever do need assistance, just call.
She humphed and then told him the latest on her new boyfriend, who thought the world of her—and her mutation. But you're more considerate, she reassured her invisible friend. He at least thought of women as intelligent, not just beautiful and useful.
Another chuckle.
Both telepaths were insufferably patronizing, but neither minded. They recognized themselves in the mirrors of each other's minds.
They lost touch for a while when Emma devoted herself more thoroughly to forwarding the goals of the Hellfire Club and her "friend" devoted himself to postgraduate studies. Occasionally, he "called" and asked her a question on psychology. Apparently, she had mastered manipulation far more than he had.
Your ethics will lose you a doctorate, she groused, woken from a sound sleep. But she gave him his answer.
You never call. His thoughts sounded sad.
Emma rolled her eyes. I don't need help. Ever. No names, no proper exchanges, nothing. It kept them both safe and happy behind their comfortable shields.
Self-delusion is not a desirable trait, he chided gently.
Speak for yourself. She turned to diamond and blocked him out. She did not need help. she never needed help.
Not even when she came face to face with the first telepath that could break through her flimsy mental shields like a piece of tattered cloth, when her only defense was diamond and the only thing keeping her from diamond was fear of the metal at her throat. Emma did not need help.
Re: Amazing
Date: 2011-08-24 07:02 pm (UTC)Re: Amazing
Date: 2011-08-24 07:06 pm (UTC)Re: Refuge
Date: 2011-08-24 07:07 pm (UTC)He wanted to kiss her. He never did. Instead, the flames in the fireplace burned a little higher
Love this bit! =)
Re: You Never Called
Date: 2011-08-24 07:11 pm (UTC)Thank you! =D
Re: Refuge
Date: 2011-08-24 07:35 pm (UTC)Re: You Never Called
Date: 2011-08-24 07:37 pm (UTC)Re: Amazing
Date: 2011-08-24 07:38 pm (UTC)Re: Refuge
Date: 2011-08-24 08:25 pm (UTC)Re: Refuge
Date: 2011-08-24 09:26 pm (UTC)