Oooh, shiny!
Oct. 2nd, 2011 11:07 amGacked from
trovia:
Pick one of my icons and I'll write you a ficlet based on said icon. If you choose a stock/text only icon, feel free to choose a fandom or characters you think I might know.
A lot of my text only are from a fandom: Divergent, but I'll take swapping or crossover.
Pick one of my icons and I'll write you a ficlet based on said icon. If you choose a stock/text only icon, feel free to choose a fandom or characters you think I might know.
A lot of my text only are from a fandom: Divergent, but I'll take swapping or crossover.
no subject
Date: 2011-10-02 05:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-02 05:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-02 06:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-02 07:11 pm (UTC)I don't know the characters you write, so... Logan & whoever you want?
Made of Flames
Date: 2011-10-03 01:00 am (UTC)Summary: She made him what he was, then let him go. Kyro
A/N: Not my best work, but hope you like.
It was battle. It was fierce. It was bloody war. And all Kitty could think about was the boy made of flames.
"I'll be right back," she shouted into the X-Jet.
Bobby was still helping Jimmy onboard. "No! Wait!"
But Kitty had vanished into the wind.
She stayed phased. Nothing in her was foolish enough to think that what she was doing was anything like safe, searching for her enemy among the fallen with Phoenix disintegrating everything around them. She nearly choked on the iron smell of blood and haze of smoke, but she kept going until she found him.
"Oh, John," she whispered.
But it was only a moment lost; there was no time for more. She reached down and phased his body, then nearly stumbled under the weight. She could call for help. Kitty knew that bad blood and all, Bobby would not want their former friend to die, but this was personal. This was her former lover, and flames belonged only to the fire.
She didn't call him.
He woke with a groan, then stifled it against the pain hammering inside his skull. His mouth felt dry and tasted of caked blood. He was lying on his back. He opened his eyes—and winced.
"Hi."
Kitty's voice was soft. Her own eyes failed to accuse them the way they had the last time he saw her. She laid one cool hand against his forehead and said quietly, "Your fever's down."
"What am I..." His voice trailed off. He stared at the rips in her uniform, the dry blood rusted against her hands and that perfect skin. He remembered briefly how soft it always felt. It was his blood, he suddenly realized, and it gave him strength to finish. "...doing here?"
Kitty's gaze flickered with...something. He wasn't sure what. "Looks like you'll be okay," she said, voice still soft.
Her face hardened. She leaned over and kissed him hard.
His emotions reeled. He tried to reach up and push her away, but he only held her tighter. The kiss tasted of blood and fire and sweetness.
She let him go with her lips but not her hands, mouth whispering fiercely into his: "You are fire, you hear me? You're not a lackey. You don't belong to anyone—anyone. Not me, not the Professor, and certainly not Magneto. You're fire. You belong to fire."
Then his hands were empty and the air was cold.
"I love you," she whispered, then was gone.
He sat up, fingering his ribs. Bruised but not broken. (Story of his life, huh?) He was in the back corner of some library between two crowded walls of bookcases. His flamethrower was empty in his hand. His Zippo was in the other, where she'd left it.
He did not even know if he'd been cured. He flicked open the Zippo, heart clenching at the bitter familiarity. The flames rose around him, and he was fire.
no subject
Date: 2011-10-03 02:14 am (UTC)If only because it cracks me up.
Re: Made of Flames
Date: 2011-10-03 03:23 am (UTC)Tears
Date: 2011-10-03 06:50 pm (UTC)Summary: You know what it's like to be the only one left. Logan/Storm
Author's Note: This one fits pretty neatly into The Burning story arc, which I know you haven't read, but I hope you like it. Prompt by
Logan had not expected the flood of people—mutant and otherwise—arriving after Alcatraz to pay their respects at the joint memorial service for Charles Xavier, Jean Grey, and Scott Summers. He had not expected to learn of all the alumni of Xavier's school he had never met, some of whom were parents. Logan almost fled the broken, open grief of one Alex Summers over the empty grave of his son.
Groups of bereaved students milled over the grounds and through the corridors, but oddly enough, none ventured too close to the private sanctuary of Xavier himself: his study. Logan slipped inside with some relief. Then froze.
He smelled salt. And heard the distinct sound of somebody trying hard to stop crying.
He continued forward slowly until he drew even with Xavier's large desk and overlarge chair. He kept his face forward, staring straight out the window, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ororo curled up in the chair, looking for all the world like a sullen teenager, glaring at him with a tear-stained face.
"What are you doing in here?" she asked, and she didn't sound like a teenager at all.
Logan glanced over at her then, figuring that gave him permission to look. "Looking for a place to smoke in peace." He pulled out the cigar to emphasize his words. "What are you doing in here?"
Ororo sniffed and raised her chin imperiously. "I'm crying."
He would laugh at the sight, but her grief demanded respect. He shrugged and lit the cigar. "You think I know anything about tears?"
"Yes," she said quietly.
He dropped the lighter and cursed, then burned his thumb catching it. He had not expected the answer. Anything but that. Logan turned on her.
"Is there some reason you always think you know something about me or what I should be doing that I don't?" he demanded.
ororo tightened her grip around her knees. She did not look at him. "Yes."
He couldn't know the memories that were swirling around in her head, only knew that she meant that word too much for his liking.
"I can't do this alone," she whispered suddenly, and she looked so lost, it startled him.
"You're not alone, 'Ro." He gestured out the window at the many people grieving in their own ways out on the grounds.
Ororo merely glanced, then shook her head. "I'm the last one left." She fixed her gaze on his. "You know what it's like to be the last one left."
She had struck him where it hurt, and an old familiar ache settled where he always figured his heart ought to be.
Logan reached out and brushed the tears from Ororo's cheek. "I know."
Re: Made of Flames
Date: 2011-10-03 06:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-03 07:02 pm (UTC)Re: Tears
Date: 2011-10-03 07:59 pm (UTC)That line got me. =(
Re: Tears
Date: 2011-10-03 08:35 pm (UTC)Let Us Reason Together [1/?]
Date: 2011-10-03 09:22 pm (UTC)Summary: Far be it from school headmasters and headmistresses to use reason in their decisions... Charles/Emma
"Dammit, Charles!" Emma Frost slammed down the phone so the sound echoed through her over-spacious, wood-paneled headmistress office. Her fingers automatically flew to her temples to begin massaging out the I-hate-my-fellow-lover/telepath/idiotic-antagonist-sized headache forming there. Her mouth continued to mutter unmentionables.
There was only one thing to do. She would have to step in and handle this situation herself.
The headmistress of the Massachusetts Academy for Gifted Young People dropped her hands from her head and rose from behind her massive desk. She swept up her white cloak and slipped it onto her shoulders while sending out a telepathic call to the teacher she leaned on most.
"You rang?" came the droll reply, much too quickly.
"What are you doing here?" Emma snapped out at the Hispanic woman leaning on the frame inside her door.
Angel Salvadore, also known as Tempest in the mutant community and watch-your-step-she'll-eat-you-alive among the students, rolled her eyes at Emma. "You did ask me to find out what I could on the 'incident' and bring it to you. I assume Charles is being problematic." She raised her eyebrows in what should be a sympathic look but succeeded more at being a smirk.
The two women had bonded long ago over the stupidity and short-sightedness of men and left the Brotherhood arm in arm with similar goals and ambitions. Angel was Emma's lighter half, dressed all in backless black dresses that gave her wings room to breathe; Emma was Angel's dark sister, dressed all in white evening or business attire that never could pass as 'good.'
Emma scowled at Angel darkly. "Tell me you learned something useful."
"Of course, I did." Angel came forward, waving a paper delicately. "And I hope you properly appreciate the lengths I went through to get it too." She grinned.
Emma held out her hand.
Angel finally quit teasing and set it there.
Emma read it and smiled. "You are an angel." She hugged Angel uncharacteristically and hurried out of the office. This would be just the thing to make Charles see reason.
Angel's scoffing voice tumbled behind her. "Of course, I am."
Re: Tears
Date: 2011-10-03 11:09 pm (UTC)Re: Tears
Date: 2011-10-03 11:10 pm (UTC)Re: Let Us Reason Together [1/?]
Date: 2011-10-04 12:42 am (UTC)Re: Let Us Reason Together [1/?]
Date: 2011-10-04 12:56 am (UTC)Liquid 4: Reprise
Date: 2011-10-04 06:52 pm (UTC)A/N: This is actually a follow-up to the Liquid Story Arc, an angsty little threesome of fics that inspired the icon.
He cuts a startling figure on the snowy porch, darkness against gathering shadows of dusk. He wishes he had not come out to taste the cool, liquid flavor of the snow and drink that chill, harsh air down his throat. It reminds him of her.
Rogue had never liked the snow.
She would be laughing right now, shivering in his coat and wondering why he wouldn’t give up smoking if it meant being out of the warmth inside. Never told her laughter didn’t sit right and the only kind of home he knows is exile.
Should’ve known that wasn’t about to change.
Remy tastes blood with his nicotine and realizes he’s bit his mouth. He laughs, a ragged sound in the silent night.
Trust ain’t a should, chère. It’s a choice.
He chose, didn’t he? He chose.
He flicks off the ash of his cigarette, stubs it out, then grinds it beneath his heel. He goes inside and waves absent greetings as he slips behind the laughing crowd on its outer edges, the bodies pressed warmly together, towards the kitchen. Logan slides his favorite down the counter. Bourbon.
The liquid warmth is welcome when he turns to see her beside the fire, not looking at him. He stares at her mouth and wonders that he never got to taste it.
Re: Liquid 4: Reprise
Date: 2011-10-04 07:55 pm (UTC)And if you continue to play in this verse, please let me know! ;)
Let Us Reason Together [2/?]
Date: 2011-10-04 10:29 pm (UTC)"No brain damage," he said aloud.
Hank's scratching pen assured him that his evaluation was noted.
Charles had seen far too many victims of mutant discrimination. This one had gotten off fairly lightly. Hank had already verified that besides a few bruises and a concussion, the girl seemed fine. It was left for Charles to do the careful work of ensuring her mind and mutation were fine and determining how the abuse had come about.
The owner of the mind was surprisingly absent, but her thoughts and memories were close to the surface. Her name was Katherine Pryde; she preferred to be called Kitty. Her mutation was the ability to "phase" through material objects, though experiments with phasing through electronics had resulted in disastrous consequences. She considered herself petite instead of short. Her eyes were brown. She was a practicing Jew, an only child, and something of a genius for computers.
She was also one of Emma Frost's students.
Charles broke the telepathic link with a start. He had not expected to find his friend/rival/sometime-lover involved in this situation. Kitty had been a hospital call from staff that knew he welcomed any mutant and had the means to care for them properly.
This meant...
"Hank." Charles abruptly began to wheel his chair toward the door of the newly rearranged medical bay. "Please see that her rest is not disturbed." He did not look back to see what expression matched Hank's surprised mutterings and thoughts.
Emma Frost was possessive to a fault, though her protective instincts could use some work. Charles had left the hospital not one hour ago. Considering Emma's new jet and that she was only down in Massachusetts, he could expect her iminent arrival.
"Havoc!" he called as soon as the elevator doors opened on the main level. "We're about to have company!"
Re: Liquid 4: Reprise
Date: 2011-10-04 10:31 pm (UTC)Re: Liquid 4: Reprise
Date: 2011-10-04 10:43 pm (UTC)Re: Liquid 4: Reprise
Date: 2011-10-04 10:46 pm (UTC)Re: Let Us Reason Together [2/?]
Date: 2011-10-05 12:04 am (UTC)Dorm Daddy Driver's Ed [1/3]
Date: 2011-10-05 02:50 pm (UTC)Then he found himself, keys in hand, gaping at 'Ro as she departed down the hallway with a definitive and inviting swish to her step. He closed his mouth, rubbed his jaw, and cursed.
"I don't think y'all are supposed to do that in a school," Rogue said softly from the corner, textbooks held protectively over her torso.
Logan glared at her. "Make some noise, kid!"
She laughed at him. "What? The nose broke?"
He growled and grabbed her by the shoulder gently. She squeaked in surprise, but let him drag her down the hallway.
"Driver's ed. And don't make me regret it." He gave her one more warning glare for good measure.
Rogue giggled. "Sure, sugah."
He regretted it. Healing factor or not, there was something unnatural about Rogue's perhaps secondary superpower for giving somebody whiplash.
"Press the accelerator, Rogue! And keep your foot on it!"
"But you just said, 'Brake,'" she protested.
The car jerked to an abrupt halt, and his body lurched forward against the seat belt—again.
"The car! Not me."
"Right." Rogue glanced around nervously.
She had stopped about three car lengths in front of the next stop sign and corner. Logan thanked his lucky stars there was no one else on this stretch of road. He rubbed against his healing neck and started mentally planning a trip to the chiropractor for her.
"Okay," he said. "Now, slowly depress the accelerator and just hold it nice and steady."
Rogue bit her lip and stepped on the gas.
"Steady!" he yelled. "Not zero to sixty!"
She slammed both feet on the brake and his head slammed against the windshield.
"Logan, you okay?" Rogue unbuckled her seat belt and leaned over the middle to look at him.
"Kid," he finally managed. "I'm driving back."
"Oh."
She looked disappointed, mouth drooping, eyes downcast. He'd almost do anything to wipe that look off her face.
She handed him the keys, and he shuddered. Almost anything.
Re: Liquid 4: Reprise
Date: 2011-10-05 06:54 pm (UTC)Re: Liquid 4: Reprise
Date: 2011-10-06 03:42 pm (UTC)Re: Liquid 4: Reprise
Date: 2011-10-06 04:16 pm (UTC)http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6187943/1/Heat_1a_Pedestal
Re: Liquid 4: Reprise
Date: 2011-10-06 08:48 pm (UTC)And I had no idea you had so many series going!? I don't think I'm even close to reading half your stuff!! And now that I think about it, I still haven't finished Whispers... *runs off to read*
Re: Liquid 4: Reprise
Date: 2011-10-06 11:02 pm (UTC)Re: Dorm Daddy Driver's Ed [1/3]
Date: 2011-10-07 11:14 pm (UTC)Thank you so much, darling. I love this! Five imaginary bucks says that Ororo acquiesced to the girls' requests just for her own kicks.
I see a 1/3 up there...does this mean any chance of seeing Logan teach Jubilee and Kitty too?
(Because of you, in my new headcanon, movieverse Jubilee drives like a pro. A pro racecar driver, that is. Kitty, on the other hand, can't drive to save her life, but damn can she work the GPS. A boon, seeing as she's the only one in the mansion who can and ARRRGH I BLAME YOU IN THE BEST OF WAYS.)
Re: Dorm Daddy Driver's Ed [1/3]
Date: 2011-10-07 11:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-10 09:07 pm (UTC)Deadly
Date: 2011-10-13 04:02 pm (UTC)Summary: Own your own power.
Author's Note: I really wanted to write Skin, the story this icon was inspired by, but that baby is nowhere near ready to ship, so drabble it is!
She was a deadly woman. She had yet to meet a boundary that could truly stop her. Even the Cure lasted for just a few brief weeks before it too was sucked into the ever-swirling whirlpool of her voracious genes.
Logan did a double-take when Rogue started wearing clothes that showed off her skin, unsure whether to be proud or to properly horrified. She put on her favorite tank tops and skirts and shorts with only gloves to signal, Look with your eyes, not your hands.
"Kid, what's with the skin?"
Rogue shrugged. "I don't know. What's with the claws?"
Re: Deadly
Date: 2011-10-13 04:10 pm (UTC)Re: Deadly
Date: 2011-10-13 04:28 pm (UTC)Dorm Daddy Driver's Ed [2/3]
Date: 2011-10-13 05:07 pm (UTC)Jubilee beamed.
He'd never seen anyone Jubilee's age with such a knack for taking sharp corners, parking parallel, avoiding obstacles, and changing trajectories. There was precious little for him to teach her.
They got out of the car, still talking and laughing. They were met on the front steps by Ororo's frowning face, crossed arms, and tapping foot.
Logan eyed the foot in particular. "How was that for a dry run?" He couldn't keep the tinge of pride out of his voice.
Ororo just glared at him, then looked pointedly at his student. "Wonderful, Jubilee. Now, try that again within the speed limit, please." She turned back to Logan and raised her eyebrow, as if daring him to defy her.
"Since when did we get domestic?" he muttered.
"We are not training them as combat drivers, Logan. We're trying to help them get their drivers licenses!"
Jubilee glanced back and forth between them. "I don't mind doing it again."
Logan grumbled. Ororo sighed. Jubilee trotted obediently back to the car and slid into the driver's seat.
When Ororo was safely inside the mansion once more, she leaned over and whispered to Logan, "Fifty bucks says I can switch speeds without her even knowing it."
Logan chuckled. "I like the way you think."
It only took a few passes before she could go from seventy to model driver in zero seconds flat.
She was the easy one.
Kitty, on the other hand...
"I sure hope you intend to leave the driveway in the near future."
Logan restrained a groan as Kitty nodded and continued configuring the GPS. She had spent twenty minutes already just running through her pre-driving checklist printed off from some driving school website that probably wouldn't know how to drive on a mutant-infested school ground if their life depended on it.
"Sometime today, Kitty," he prodded.
"Just a minute." She furrowed her brow and pressed enter. "Okay." She flashed him a brilliant smile. "It's got our destination. Is there autopilot on this thing?"
"Kitty," Logan answered patiently, "the car is not the Blackbird. There is no autopilot."
"Oh. Okay." She finally settled down in the seat and shifted the gear to drive.
Logan sent up a quick prayer of gratitude for small mercies. Then he waited.
"Drive forward one tenth of a mile," chimed the GPS unit. This could get annoying fast, but just now, the sound made Logan very happy that they would at least be driving.
And he waited.
"Kitty."
"Which one's the throttle?" she asked in a small voice.
He refrained from beating his head on the dashboard. "This is not the Blackbird," he reminded her—again. "Just put your foot on the left pedal to accelerate and on the right pedal to brake. Okay?"
"Okay. Right." Kitty squared her shoulder.
The car inched forward.
Logan did not refrain from slapping his hand against his forehead. "This is going to be a long drive," he muttered.
Re: Dorm Daddy Driver's Ed [3/3]
Date: 2011-10-13 11:35 pm (UTC)Kitty swung the wheel hard to the right and miraculously straightened in the righthand lane. She was chewing her bottom lip into a bright red. "I'm sorry, Logan. The GPS said to turn left—"
"When you reached the signal! Not at the curb." He had already ran his hand through his hair enough that it was probably standing on end by now. His back was jarred from all the obstacles that GPS failed to note and the fact that Kitty seemed to think the road as easy to navigate as the open sigh.
"Turn right on Hideaway Road," chimed the GPS unit.
Logan reached out and grabbed the wheel. "When we reach the corner, okay kid?"
Kitty nodded and dutifully pulled up to the curb. She put the car in park. Logan eyed her warily.
"Um. Logan?"
"Yeah, kid."
"Are you sure you don't want to drive now?"
Ororo's eyes laughed at him when he stalked into her attic.
"You planned this," he accused her, then proceeded to collapse face down across her bed.
"I planned for you to turn them into responsible drivers," she informed him graciously. "And they did ask for you. Specifically."
Logan grunted in acknowledgment, but otherwise did not answer.
This time, Ororo laughed out loud. She sat down next to him. "So how did our girls do?"
"Speaking of which..." He sat up on one arm. "When did they become 'our' girls?"
"I'm the headmistress," she replied matter-of-factly. "They are mine."
"And?"
"You're their hero and dorm dad. They have made it clear that they've claimed you, have they not?"
"Hm." Logan studied her, as if considering the thought. Which, of course, he wasn't. "An 'our' implies a 'we,' 'Ro," he prodded.
Ororo's eyes went blank. Then she stared at him, suddenly comprehending his point. "Well..."
He shook his head. Some people really did need to learn how to drive. He leaned over and kissed her.
Let Us Reason Together [3/?]
Date: 2011-10-18 01:56 am (UTC)A cold breeze rushed across his thoughts. He threw up just enough of a mental wall to let her know he wasn't in the mood for mental funny business, then started at a more sedate pace toward the front entry. He was not surprised to find a harried Alex Summers standing next to a polished and irritated Emma Frost when he arrived.
Charles gave her a quick, but careful assessment. Her French manicured nails were tapping a rhythmic pattern on her arm. The toe of her expensive white boot was keeping the downbeat. She was cool, but not downright frosty, and he didn't detect any steam blowing out from under her diamond lid.
Good, he thought. She might still be able to see reason.
I heard that, came the bored reply.
"Thank you, Alex," Charles directed toward his right hand man, who was still glaring at this former enemy. (Never mind, she had not been Brotherhood for years and Alex's two children.) "We'll meet in my study, shall we?" This he directed at Emma, who nodded coolly in reply.
Charles winced. This is going to be a long night.
Re: Let Us Reason Together [4/?]
Date: 2011-10-26 03:15 am (UTC)I demand the return of my student, Emma thought fiercely. Once the door had closed, she added aloud, "Where is she?"
What exactly happened to her? Charles demanded in return. Once the door had closed, he coolly replied to her spoken words, "She's in the medical bay. You should be glad she's stable."
Emma sniffed. Disdain for both sides of their conversation. It made Charles want to grind his teeth. But then, she frequently had that effect on him and he on her.
"That's because you don't know how to have a healthy relationship with somebody you can't play daddy to," she retorted and sat down regally in the chair across from him.
They eyed each other warily. Both knew this particular tide would have to break sometime, but this was their first drawn battle over an active and enrolled student. As for potential students... Well, they didn't count.
charles steepled his fingers together and took on his most reasonable tone.
Most patronizing.
"Katherine Pryde was admitted to the hospital with massive bruises, like she had taken a beating, and unconscious." Charles paused and looked at her.
Emma sniffed.
"Seeing as she is able to pass through objects unhurt,"—assuming so many things that Charles did not want to get into—"I assume there was either some issue with her control or this was a deliberate attack." The implication was strong though. His students were trained to defend themselves. If she had been his...
She wasn't. "Oh, please, Charles." Emma crossed one leg over the other and pulled a slip of paper out of purse. "You seem to think I'm incompetent."