#bocj au

[xx-rpr-books]

Songs That Correlate to the Locations and Groups of the Comics

Now I haven't analyzed the actual content of the lyrics or the music videos yet, just if the words are within the lyrics. I may have missed some stuff because I was nodding off, so if I missed something let me know. Special thanks to @iiivessel for blessing me with district map.

Songs That Are An All Around Theme of the Comics (within the OST)

Concrete Jungle

V.A.N.

Anything > Human

Even

Terms & Conditions

Nervous System

Loading Screen

Digital Footprint

The Grey District (Bad Omens)

The Grey Museum, Bad Omens Headquarters, Miracle Hills, Wishing Well, The Chain, The Wheel, Concrete International (CIX)

The Grey

What Do You Want From Me?

IDWT$

The Hell I Overcame

Miracle

The Quakes (Government)

Caves, Tomato Town, Nowhere Land, Concrete Jungle Museum of Art

Nowhere To Go

IDWT$

Crawl

Miracle

Kingdom (Atomic Six)

North Concrete, West Concrete, South Concrete, The Pools

Who Are You?

Kingdom of Cards

Mercy

The Drain (Broken Youth)

The Slate, Suicide Bridge, East Concrete

Like A Villain

Artificial Suicide

The Drain

Broken Youth

The Company Territory

The Neon Glows

Artificial Suicide

Miracle

Feral Grounds

F E R A L

[bocje-ce-ustu]

Thank you for your ask, dear @gerec​!! 💜 (Something went very wrong with the read more button in the first post, hence the sketchy look of this one, sorry about that =.=‘’’)

For prompt number 12, “I think we need to talk”, from this list.

The more I thought about it, the more my mind went back to this post-XMDP AU (tl;dr: all of Genosha thinks we are a couple but we’re not since Cuba), so you get a little vignette of Cherik Classic Misunderstandings™ after they sleep together for the first time in thirty years.

(Also haha this was supposed to be a drabble but my hand slipped. Anyway, my counter tells me it’s exactly 800 words, so... success? ^^’’’’)

Enjoy!

---

“I think we need to talk.”

Charles doesn’t look away from his book. He lost focus as soon as he sensed Erik on his way back to his own house-container, mind geared in full battle mode, but he knows where his eyes will travel if he looks at Erik now. He can’t play himself like that.

“’Cause if you spend another day studiously ignoring me to avoid addressing what happened, Charles, I swear—”

“And what exactly happened?” He feels Erik’s mind lose its footing for a moment there. Good, Charles thinks. “Seriously, Erik, if you want to break up with someone, you should be in relationship first.”

There’s an angry stomping growing nearer just before his book gets torn away from his hands and thrown onto the small table, and then Erik’s face enters his visual field and, oh, the hickey on Erik’s neck is right where Charles remembered putting it, two days ago. Damn, why did he even look?

“Can we have this conversation like two normal human beings, without you trying to forage in my mind for petty reasons to fight?”

Like two normal human beings? Ah, that would be a first.

“I’m not trying to fight, I’m trying to understand what you want!” Charles pinches the bridge of his nose, steadying himself. He’s started yelling without meaning to. He breaths and begins anew, “You said that everyone here saw how close we are, how they all seem to think we’re sleeping together so we might as well. So we fuck, and then all you’re thinking about is how you’d rather go back to how things were before.” He looks up at Erik, who is staring at him with a somewhat betrayed frown. As if he didn’t propose this and then regret it himself. Even now, Charles realizes bitterly. “So, where have I gone wrong?”

“I kissed you, didn’t I?” Erik says, then makes a face, surprised at his own words, but resolves to pull through. “The morning after.”

“We were barely awake. How’s that relevant? You still thought it was a mistake.”

Erik doesn’t reply, just plops down onto the sofa beside him with a half-hearted huff.

“Do you expect every partner of yours to always be rational, or is it just me?” A sigh. “Yes, I thought that. But that’s not the only thing I thought. Which is why I didn’t tell you that.”

Charles feels his cheeks grow hot at the implication and bites back, awkwardly, “You’re not confused if you dread the eventuality of being with me.”

Erik takes his hand, making Charles’s stomach do something of a double flip. Part of him feels like his body should be covering the distance between them and just crash into Erik’s own. He thought thirty years apart had made him unlearn the sensation, but here he is again.

“You’re not afraid?” Erik asks, fingers interlacing with Charles’s. Of being with me, of being together again, of hurting each other again, he doesn’t say, but Charles hears it clear as day.

God, he wants to punch himself. And also Erik. And then kiss him and kiss him and never think of this ever again.

“I’m not,” he says. Erik looks uncertain, but it’s true. Charles knows for a fact that they’ll hurt each other again. They’ve been doing it all this time. The thing is, he doesn’t care. For all of their fights and years of separation, they have always found their way back to each other in the end.

Of course, he also knows he can’t tell Erik all that.

“Don’t be afraid of giving a name to this thing,” he says instead, drawing soothing circles with his thumb on Erik’s palm, “just because it didn’t end well last time.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Erik says, his voice a little raspy by the end. He clears his throat. “Are you sure you want to give it another go?”

Charles brings up their joined hands and presses a kiss to Erik’s knuckles. “If you are.”

“What if it doesn’t work out?”

Charles smiles wickedly.

“We find each other in Paris in ten years and I’ll let you ravish me in a luxury hotel room.”

Some of Erik’s tension leaves the lines of his body, letting a spark of humour shine through. His free hand reaches out to cup Charles’s cheek, and this time, a wilful, almost undiluted desire for closeness accompanies his motion.

“You put too much faith in my stamina.”

Charles chuckles, and there it is, his body finally closing the distance between them as it should be. This close, he can feel Erik holding his breath, Erik’s gaze dropping to his mouth as he speaks.

“Then you’d better get down to it right away, don’t you?”

Erik doesn’t need Charles to tell him twice.

[gerec]

bocje-ce-ustu replied to your post “Would you ever write a pirate AU? :D”

I suspected it might be right up your alley, I mean, its potential for angst and drama is stellar - just think about exes having to deal with each other FOR WEEKS at sea after a bad break-up, or someone making port just to find their rival/booty call is already there (the crew suffers anyway)

OMG I love these thank you I’m going to save them right this minute in the vault!!!

[jackyjango]

I MUST ask about Bound To The Boss! 🤩

Thank you so much for the ask @bocje-ce-ustu !! 😬 I’m so sorry it took me this long to get back...

Bound to the Boss is my only WIP for the lamen fandom! 😬 I love lamen and I even more love modern aus in the fandom. In the story Damen is kicked out of his own company by Kastor and ends up as Laurent’s PA. Meanwhile, Laurent is fighting to keep his own company away from forever ending up in his uncle’s hands. Basically canon, but with kingdoms replaced by corporate giants.

Here’s a snippet of the coming chapter:

Laurent's eyes transverse from Damen head to toe in an accessing gaze. This is the second time he's being subjected to it. Just like at the lobby, it's filled with contempt.

'You’re twenty minutes late,’ Laurent says. His voice is even, but it's sharp enough to cut through frigid ice. He picks up the drink and sips from it. Damen quietly watches the wet sheen that collects on the pink lips and bob of the throat disappearing into his collar.

Without a word, Laurent hauls the drink into the bin beside the table, the lid opened by the force and the aromatic liquid sloshing inside the confines of the metal. 'It's not hot enough. Make sure it is tomorrow.’

'It takes twenty minutes for me to bring it here. How the hell do you expect it to be hot?’ Damen refrains himself from throwing explicits into his reply.

'Then find a way to keep it hot,’ Laurent says with an elegant rise of a pale brow.

‘You can’t -’

'The mop on your better be at a respectable length by tomorrow,’ Laurent says. 'Now, get out!’

Damen leaves before his urge to tear the leather of Laurent's chair takes over his senses.

[ireneadonovan]

Exhausted...

I definitely bit off more than I could chew with Rare Pairs. Turns out I'm not as recovered from that illness as I like to think. I did manage 10 stories, but nothing like the number of fics I did for the last Remix Madness. I regret I didn't get to everything I wanted to write. Still, I had fun.

A shoutout to @gerec for running the show.

Here's what I wrote...

Destiny: Raven/Irene. Fluffy foreplay.

A Discerning Collector: Charles/En Sabah Nur. Charles is broke. A stranger offers to buy his tears.

Coming Home: Hank/Alex. Alex comes back from Vietnam.

Bedfellows (Strange or Otherwise): Charles/Logan. When Logan goes back to 1973, he wakes up in Charles' bed. Prompted by @gerec

On Leave: Charles/Steve Rogers. Steve returns to New York on leave and to the friend he's been pining for. Prompted by @l-p-r-o-c-k

In Cairo: Charles/En Sabah Nur. Billionaire En Sabah Nur takes Charles to his home city. Prompted by @mnemo-ink

A Cabin in the Woods: Charles/Logan. Charles inherits his father's fishing cabin, which turns out to be inhabited. Prompted by @bocje-ce-ustu

Урок Языка (Language Lesson): Charles/Azazel. Azazel teaches Charles Russian. Prompted by @akasanata

Indy Xavier: Charles/Logan/Erik. Indiana Jones-ish AU. Prompted by @mnemo-ink

Three Little Professors: Jean/Charles/Erik. Jean likes to peg them both.

[fth2018offerings]

bocje-ce-ustu - FTH Contributor Page

See bocje-ce-ustu’s works here and here!

To contact the seller before bidding, please email alaudaepulchraesunt@gmail.com

If you have a very specific prompt and are not flexible, it’s best to contact the seller before bidding, even if it fits within their listed parameters. If you are asking for a specific kink, always ask first.

Charities these auctions benefit: Bidder's choice of any of the listed groups

(See full list)

bocje-ce-ustu’s offerings:

bocje-ce-ustu Auction #1

Type of fanwork: fanfiction Subtype(s): N/A Fandom(s): X-Men, Captive Prince Highest rating creator will work with: M (mature) Length: 5 -10k words Especially interested in: I'm game with most AUs and ships. Favorite ships and characters include: Laurent/Damen, Nicaise (for character-centric fic) (CP); Charles/Erik, Charles/Logan, Charles/Erik/Logan, Charles/Erik/Magda (X-Men). Unwilling to address: Themes/AU I am not willing to address: underage, incest, dub/non-con, scat/watersports, D/s ‘verse, significant age difference + unbalanced power relationships, bestiality and tentacle erotica. Pairings I am not willing to address: Nikandros/Jord and Erasmus/Kallias (CP), ships involving Scott Summers, Kurt Wagner and Jean Grey (X-Men). Notes: If there's a particular theme/AU/kink I haven't mentioned or you need clarifications about the ones I have mentioned, feel free to reach out.

Minimum Bid: $5

Auctions run from 8 January 2018 (Midnight, EST) to 14 January 2018 (Midnight, EST). Bids before or after this period are invalid and will not be counted.If you would like to bid on this auction:

Step 1: Check the bidding spreadsheet to find out what the current high bid is. (Note: It may take up to five minutes for a bid to appear.)

Step 2: Fill out the seller’s bidding form with a bid that is higher than the current high bid. If you want to make it harder for someone to outbid you, bid higher! You will NOT be notified if someone outbids you, so please bookmark this page and check frequently. You will only be notified if you are the high bidder after the auctions end.

bocje-ce-ustu Auction #2

Type of fanwork: fan labor (such as betaing, brit-picking, translating, etc.) Subtype(s): Translation Fandom(s): X-Men, Captive Prince, MCU (all) Highest rating creator will work with: M (mature) Length: 5 -10k words Especially interested in: I am a native Italian speaker. I can translate between Italian and English, Japanese and English, and Japanese and Italian. Unwilling to address: Themes/AU I am not willing to address: underage, incest, dub/non-con, scat/watersports, D/s ‘verse, significant age difference + unbalanced power relationships, bestiality and tentacle erotica. Notes: If there's a particular theme/AU/kink I haven't mentioned or you need clarifications about the ones I have mentioned, feel free to reach out.

Minimum Bid: $5

Auctions run from 8 January 2018 (Midnight, EST) to 14 January 2018 (Midnight, EST). Bids before or after this period are invalid and will not be counted.If you would like to bid on this auction:

Step 1: Check the bidding spreadsheet to find out what the current high bid is. (Note: It may take up to five minutes for a bid to appear.)

Step 2: Fill out the seller’s bidding form with a bid that is higher than the current high bid. If you want to make it harder for someone to outbid you, bid higher! You will NOT be notified if someone outbids you, so please bookmark this page and check frequently. You will only be notified if you are the high bidder after the auctions end.

Thanks for participating in Fandom Trumps Hate!

[xx-rpr-books]

Alright. This is what I could glean from this tiny blurry AF map...of course nothing is concrete this is just speculation or deductive reasoning or whatever you want to call it...anyway:

(Amended)

The Grey District - (Bad Omens territory) where the boys hail from; it would encompass parts of the San Fernando Valley, The Westside, and the South Bay; very large area compared to the other territories, the next largest being The Quakes territory, although that's just speculation on the borders

The Quakes - (Government territory); No Information Yet in the Comics. Would encompass the Angeles forest, Northeast LA, The Eastside, and South LA; might go beyond it's northern border but the map cuts off

(Kingdom) - (atomic six territory); enemy crime syndicate of Bad Omens; led by a man named "D" who's currently masquerading around as Harvey Dent; had half of their territory taken by BO; would encompass the Verdugos, Central LA, and the Harbor

The Company (no territory name) - No Information Yet in the Comics; would encompass the Southeast side of LA

The Drain - (Broken Youth territory); No Information Yet in the Comics; would encompass the San Gabriel Valley; might go beyond its eastern border

Now the map has more information on it but I CAN'T SEE IT! Anyway...which area would your crew be from if you were in this universe?

[bocje-ce-ustu]

Cherik - what is the most awkward way they could meet?

Thank you so much for this prompt!! I’m having lots of fun with it :3c

Alas this is a… first part of three-ish? ‘cause I just can’t seem to be able to write short short stuff :D

An handwavy canon AU where everything is pretty much the same (X-Men vs Brotherhood, yadda yadda) except Charles and Erik only know each other from “the battlefield”, and have yet to properly meet.

—–

“Well, atleast he’s agreed to a meeting. That’s something.”

“That’ssomething for sure. We’ll know what exactlyif he does show up and doesn’tthreaten to shake the building down if I don’t let him villain-monologue overour entire conversation.” Charles looks up from his hands, affronted, as aflicker of amusement lights up in Hank’s mind. “I don’t want to dominate every conversation,” he remarks, pettily. “Myarguments are just… better.”

Hanksnorts, not dignifying that with an answer. A vocal one, at least.

“I knew Ishould have suggested to meet in the woods or something.” Charles sighs. “But Ireally wanted him to feel like he could trust me.”

“Youcoddle him,” Hank says, sounding so much like Raven it’s endearing.

“I striveto be a fair opponent.”

“As longas you use it to our advantage.” Marryinghim would probably work as well, Hank thinks, and lets the thought floatliberally through his mind, for Charles to stumble upon repeatedly andresignedly.

It’sreally hard having a serious conversation when Hank seems to be having so muchfun.

“We’venever even talked once outside of the battlefield. That’s not exactlyauspicious for a lasting relationship.”

Hankshrugs. “Political marriages happened all the time in the past. And there’splenty of Time covers of you two, which is much better than having to rely on asingle custom-made portrait.”

“There’sstill Photoshop.” Charles distractedly muses about the man in the stupid helmetand stupid purple cape, at the glimpse of fiery reddish hair that’s recently beenturning silver, and for a moment dwells on the fact that he can’t remember thecolour of his eyes. Whatever. He’s going to find out tomorrow. Not that he’sgoing to lose his sleep over that in the meantime, of all things.

“I need adrink.”

“I knowwhat you need.”

“Hank, Iswear, if you even think again that Ineed to get laid–”

“You needto get laid,” Hank says, with the absolute certainty of a mutant whose nineproblems out of ten in life have been solved by finally getting it on withCharles’s sister, the last one being trying to match up Charles with someone(mission undoubtedly endorsed by said sister), if anything to be spared fromCharles’s “relentless” offers to play chess. “Trust me, that’ll help you seemore clearly even regarding Magneto’s case.”

What does that even mean? “I don’t have time to meet newpeople. I certainly don’t have time to reassure people I’m not going to readtheir minds, or wipe them, or listen in on god knows what telepathy kink, and that’sif they’re not scared off by the chair before that.”

Hankmentally grimaces at that, which Charles brushes off impatiently. “What I meanis, I need to be relaxed to be dating, not vice versa.”

“I wasn’texactly suggesting dating.”

“What were you suggesting then?”

tbc

[bocje-ce-ustu]

fic idea (kinda inspired by this post): it’s the early ‘60s and Charles Xavier, PhD extraordinaire / young professor, moves to Düsseldorf where he rents a flat. At first everything seems to run smoothly, and Charles is so busy with his courses and research at the department he hardly has the time to come back to his flat in the evenings. It’s when things hit a lull at the university and he finds himself spending more time home that he begins to notice something eerie: strange noises coming from who knows what corners of the flat, the sound of footsteps in deserted hallways, someone singing softly songs in a language he doesn’t recognize, pans and books and toiletries changing places, the coat and scarf he was sure he’d thrown on the sofa hanging neatly from the rack at the entrance… Charles might have gone mad, but he wants to get to the bottom of this. So the stakeout begins, and after weeks, months of chasing footsteps disappearing into walls and of careful study of the mysterious movements of the objects in his flat, Charles finally makes his acquaintance with the presence haunting the house: the ghost of Edie Lehnsherr. A new, bizarre partnership is born: while Edie starts openly giving advice on home management, family and life to Charles ‘human disaster’ Xavier, Charles learns about her story and about the son she longs to find and see to safety before she can finally leave this world. Thus the search for Erik Lehnsherr, whose traces were lost in Auschwitz in 1944, begins.

and/or: Charles being possessed by the ibbur of Edie Lehnsherr on a quest to find and save her son from Shaw and vengeance.

[bocje-ce-ustu]

amnesia & memory-related prompts

A very important part of your memories has been taken away from you, and the only way to retrieve them is to kill the one who took them. You discover the person who did that to you is your lover.

You and your first love promised to meet ten (or more) years after your last encounter in a very specific place you can’t remember now that the time has finally come. A kind stranger decides to help you on your quest.

You work in a special flower shop selling plants specifically grown to store happy memories of their owners, but you’re currently losing to the competition – a flower shop marketing its infallible painful memory-sealing plants. One day, the deliveries to the two shops get switched.

You’re an immortal being but every time you receive a fatal wound you lose a memory from your past. One day someone you don’t know comes to you demanding why you haven’t kept your promise.

All the witnesses to a murder case remember only one type of sensory input each: one the smells, another the voices and noises, yet another one the visuals, etc. You’re the detective trying to piece the information together to solve the case.

You’re keeping a memory for someone important, but you don’t know what that memory is. One day, giving in to curiosity, you find a way to access that memory. Then you wish you hadn’t.

You’re keeping a memory for someone important, but you don’t know what that memory is. One day, giving in to curiosity, you find a way to access that memory… and it becomes yours.

Everyone has a word on their wrist. Whenever they heard or see that word somewhere, the next minute gets wiped from their consciousness afterwards.

[bocje-ce-ustu]

prompt lists masterpost

ever wanted all of my prompt lists and writing inspiration thingies in one place? here you go:

- amnesia and memory-related prompts - gang!AU / assassins!AU prompts - He Arrived at Dusk-inspired AU prompts - soulmate!AU prompts - Venice!AU prompts (technically university!AU, but you know, in Venice) - types of villains inspiration thingy

the trope machine - a writing meme

round robin fic starters: the inventor | the mask | the messenger | the prisoner

[last edited on 1/16/19]

[bocje-ce-ustu]

88- cherik?

For #88 of this prompt list: “Don’t panic but I think we might have accidentally gotten married…”

Thank you for the prompt, my dear!! I’m sorry it took so long, and I hope at least it’s worth the wait. (Aaand I’m definitely not nailing this drabbling thing :D)

“Names?”

You told me we’d been invited, Erik thought, piqued.

It’s just a formality.

“Charles Xavier and ErikLehnsherr,” Charles said, brandishing his brightest smile like a business card.Inside, he was positively giddy.

Just like the old days.

You clearly remember fewer fuckyous than I do.

Charles was undeterred. You’reclearly forgetting the motel rooms between one fuck you and the other.

Among all of Erik’s partners,Charles had always been the worst at separating work and play, which made himespecially hard to quit.

“Reason to enter ElefteriM?”

“Presenting the educationalprogram of Xavier’s Westchester School for Gifted Youngsters.”

“Are you carrying any weapons?”

Charles looked at him out of thecorner of his eye as if he was waiting for Erik to take an assault rifle out ofhis tailored suit.

“No” Erik said blandly, the tipsof his powers caressing the steel spheres in his pocket. He could feelCharles rolling his eyes.

They’re stress-relieving.

One eyebrow climbed discreetly higheron Charles’s pale forehead.

“State your mutation,” the guarddroned on.

Erik lifted the pen off the guard’sfingers and drew a lazy circle with it in the air, before returning it to itsowner.

“Metallokinesis,” the manconcluded with the tiniest frown at Erik’s liberty, scribbling on his writingpad. Erik opened his mouth to correct him, but felt a little pressure in hishead suggesting otherwise.

The guard turned to Charles.

Hello, Charles sent, projecting just loud enough for thetwo of them to hear.

The guard’s eyes widened. At oncehe dropped his pen onto the pad and blew some instruction in his mouthpiece.

“Code 16! We have a code 16!”

No sooner had he uttered the wordsthat three other guards had rushed out of the back door of the lodge to surroundthem.

The spheres rattled in Erik’spocket. Charles looked at him and shook his head in minimal, measuredmovements, as he raised his hands in a pacifying gesture. “It’s me,” Charlessaid to the newcomers, and one of them approached him with tentative steps,wielding a syringe in his hand, while the other two kept their positions. One showedno visible mutation, but he had a wide stance and was conspicuously barefoot;the other had her spike-covered forearms held out towards Erik in a parody of aspooked porcupine. As if that were enough to stop him.

“Don’t touch him.”

The lights flickered. That was asmuch of a warning as they’d get.

Erik, calm down. Charles’s tone was curt, but he didn’t look tense ashe bared the inside of his elbow to the syringe.

Calm down?! The fuck is wrong with them?

They’re afraid of me.

Afraid. The fancy word for every kind of hate.

It’s alright. They only need toput me to sleep to figure out what to do with me.

The light above their heads explodedin a cloud of sparks. If it hadn’t been for the impression of Charles’s palm onhis sternum, Erik wouldn’t have stopped at that.

Diplomatic mission, Erik, Charles murmured drowsily through their dwindlingconnection. Don’t kill anyone.

***

Consciousness came back slowly andeerily incomplete. The usual buzz was gone from his awareness, which made himpick up almost instantly on the one mind he could feel nearby, a familiarbeacon tangled in a bubbly mix of affection and apprehension, though not of theaching kind he was used to. No, it was more like anticipation, which Charleswasn’t entirely sure meant good news either.

He cracked one eye, then the otheropen on a greyish, discolored ceiling. His temples itched, something round andthick weighting down on them. When he tried to take it off, it stung, like ithad tiny prickles keeping it in place. Bother. He should have expected that.

He was lying on a bed, his chairset beside it for easy access, no doubt by the person currently looking out tohim from an armchair in the corner.

The sweet, bordering on idioticexpression Erik was wearing wasn’t exactly reassuring, but Charles had woken upto worse things.

As soon as he noticed Charles’seyes on himself, the fingers Erik had been idly tapping on the armrest droppedto his lap and he looked up to meet Charles’s gaze, his daze morphing into mildconcern as he asked him how he felt.

There was something differentabout him. It took Charles a while to realize what exactly.

“Why are you wearing a ring?”Charles asked, feeling a little stupid himself. Then he realized Erik’s gaze hadbeen aimed lower before, somewhere around his middle. He was still in hisclothes, and he could see nothing out of the or– “I’m wearing one too.”

Something in the recesses of hisbrain clicked. “Erik, why are we wearing rings?” Charles dropped his head back ontothe pillow with a sigh. “Tell me they don’t match.”

“They match,” Erik deadpanned,unhelpfully. Then his tone almost took on a proud edge. “I’ve made them.”

“Oh god.”

“Alright, don’t panic but I think we might have accidentallygotten married…”

“Accidentally?” Charles raised the incriminatinghand to his face. The ring was bent and polished aluminum, it actually lookedpretty intentional.

“Ok, listen, it was the only way I could get a hold ofthis,” Erik explained, handing him a small device with a round controllertaking up most of its surface. The knob already pointed to the maximum level.Great. Telepathy suppressor AND isolated chamber. The full package.

Charles huffed. “Or you could justfloat it out of their pockets while they weren’t looking.”

“Diplomatic mission, Charles,”Erik said solemnly. “We can’t let them throw us out before we do what we camehere to do.” Charles had to give it to Erik, he was doing his best to concealthe absolute pride he took in his latest achievement. Not that he wasn’tfailing spectacularly at that.

Charles turned the device in hishands, studying it. “Why would they even trust you with this, I wonder… Iwouldn’t trust you with it, and I sleep with— ah.” Kinky bastards.

“Exactly. Anyway, hold yourworld-dominance hungry horses.” Charles rolled his eyes. “I’m required to handover the block as soon as we cross the threshold.”

“I knew it! They couldn’t trustyou.”

“But you scared them more. Isn’tthat a nice change.”

“That’s a pity though,” Charlessaid. “You didn’t get to propose.”

Erik looked over at him with aspark of interest. “Is that a request?”

“Maybe. I’dlove to have a glimpse at this side of the Master of Magnetism.” He propped himself up on one elbow, looking at Erikexpectantly. That would be fun.

Erik averted his gaze, making ashow of trying to gather his thoughts. As if they weren’t plastered all overthe forefront of his mind already. Subconsciously or not, he was playing withthe ring on his finger.

Finally, “Well, first I’d take you to the beach”.

“Haven’t we been there already?”

“That covers the ‘old’ part of thebargain.”

Charles grinned. “I thought youdidn’t care for consumerist human Gentile traditions.”

Erik didn’t bat an eye at that. “Aren’tI full of surprises? Anyway, I’d take you to the beach – it would be in theearly evening and somewhere quiet, so it would be only the two of us – and then I’d get on my knees—”

“Tell mesomething new.”

Eriksoldiered on with a scowl. “– and I’d saythat even though I’ve hurt you in the past–”

“– and you never listen…”

“– and you never listen,”Erik repeated using the exact same words, eyes glinting with mischief, “I wantto build a brighter future with you.” By the end of it he had a little pink inhis cheeks, and Charles felt like kissing him.

“You sureseem to have put a lot of thought into this,” he teased Erik instead.

“You know,just in case we needed to fake a marriage.”

“Sure.” He nodded for emphasis.

Erik shook his head, letting out ashort, resigned chuckle.

Their eyes met again, and suddenlyCharles wanted a great deal of things. He wanted to run his fingers throughErik’s greying hair, to push him on his back on the bed and forget everythingelse. He wanted a beach, a different one, in the early evening. Just the two ofthem. No stop at the jewelry needed.

Yet he felt as if he was back incollege, about to offer a drink to one of the older girls. As if he was facinga smooth wall of endless possibilities, daunting as it was desirable, and hedidn’t know the way up.

Erik cleared his throat, and thewall dissolved. Charles couldn’t help but notice the red creeping down belowhis collar. “So about what you said earlier… did you really m–”

A knock onthe door startled them. Erik’s mouth twitched at a corneras he hardly refrained from keeping the latch in place.

A faceCharles remembered from the lodge appeared on the threshold.

“Sorry forthe wait. The Council will receive you over dinner. Please come with me.”

***

Erik’s presence in the room wasshort of redundant. Charles’s secondary mutation had to be charm, because even withthe suppressor around his temples he managed to have the audience wrappedaround his finger. It was only a matter of taste, really, that he’d stuck withErik for so long, when he could mesmerize whomever he wanted with that smilefull of mischief, that light in his eyes, that sensuous voice.

The people milling around thebuffet turned to Erik only with questions of how Charles’s telepathy impactedon their daily life at the mansion, or if they had any rules there to preventbreaches in one’s privacy, and so on and so forth, with levels of concernbordering on monomania that left even Erik, who had his own reservations on thetopic, seething on behalf of his companion. The only remarkable exception was alittle elderly lady who asked him about his first meeting with Charles.

Erik instantly decided Harriettdidn’t deserve the most gruesome details of it. “It was 1962, in Miami. I was…”He smiled at the memory. “He saved me from drowning.”

“Oh, how sweet!” she cooed, herthird hand reaching out to drop a few tiny club sandwiches onto Erik’s plate. Eriksmiled and hoped there wasn’t any bacon in them.

“You know,” he added then as anafterthought, “he found me thanks to his gift.”

She nodded, mulling over that newpiece of information. “And you’ve been together ever since?”

Erik cringed. He thought aboutCuba, about more than nine years of captivity in the Pentagon, then about Magdaand Nina, and the decade of utter happiness one slip had all but crushed, andthen about Apocalypse and all of the years of endless fights over politics andrights that had followed.

“It’s complicated,” he said.

But then he thought of a team of youngmisfits fooling around with their powers, of evenings of chess and making lovein the library, of the quiet, tentative touch of a mind to his own in the yearsapart, of the nights and days spent poured over blueprints for the new mansionor bickering over piles of tests, and the smile came back to his lips.

“But he never gave up on me.”

His eyes met Charles’s at theother end of the room, and Charles returned his smile warmly, oblivious totheir conversation.

“Well, you found each othereventually.” The old lady hid a knowing grin behind her sandwich. “Seeing twopeople so in love after all these years is good for the soul.”

“Unless, you know,” chimed in ayoung man with a patterned, scaly complexion and the pointed face of a lizard, “hedid some trick to make you fall in love with him.”

Erik tasted bile and all hisreservations about full disclosure went out of the window. “Yeah, and tell me,that would have been before or after I crippled him and left him stranded on abeach?”

Harriett gasped softly, a handcovering her mouth. If she knew what else he had done to Charles only on thatday in 1962, she’d spit in his face with good reason.

Lizard-Face recovered from hissurprise soon enough to add fuel to the fire. He darted a look towards Charles,deep into some conversation that had the people around him burst into giggles,and clucked his tongue. “Guess you’re both mindless fools, then.”

“We must be, coming all the waydown here to help people like you.” Erik set his plate on the side table with aloud clunk and stepped away. Then he stopped, looking back over his shoulder. “Exceptyou, Harriett. You’re lovely. Thank you for the chat.” She nodded, though witha deep frown of concern still on her face, and Erik walked away, crossing theroom in long, steady strides to the balcony. If he stayed inside one minute longer,heads would roll.

Was it so hard to believetelepaths weren’t just out there to get you? If Erik tried to remember oneinvasive instance of Charles’s telepathy that hadn’t been warranted by otherlives being in danger, none came to mind, and he was his nemesis.

Besides, telepathy was just a giftlike any other, not something you could or should suppress at leisure. Erikknew that, and that was why he trusted Charles with the use he made of it.

Charles’s words from earlier hit himagain. I wouldn’t trust you with it, andI sleep with you.

Clearly he hadn’t meant it likethat. He and Charles had their divergences, that much was true, but surelyCharles wouldn’t believe…

But those had been his very words,and Erik remembered Charles’s wry quirk of lips as he had discovered Erik hadbeen made the keeper of his powers.

A familiar shape coming up frombehind distracted him from his thoughts.

“So this is where you’ve beenhiding.”

Charles wheeled out onto thebalcony, pulling his chair to a stop beside Erik.

“I think I’ve traumatized a seniorcitizen.” That was not what he’d meant to say, but at least he had words for that.

“I didn’t expect any less from you.”

“She was the only one moreinterested in gossip than in the danger your power represents.” Erik scoffed. “Howcan they be such a bunch of bigots?”

“Coming from the defendingchampion, it must be bad.”

Erik gritted his teeth. “At leastyou didn’t have to listen to all of that.”

“Hey.” Charles tugged on hissleeve. When Erik turned to him, Charles raised his hands to curl them aroundErik’s arms, pulling him down for a kiss. Erik savored the firm grip warminghis skin through the clothes, his hands finding Charles’s jaw and shoulder toground himself while his lips parted with a sigh.

The kiss lacked the familiar echoto Erik’s own lightheadedness, but that didn’t help lift the fog from his mind.The passion that Charles put into taking him apart with so simple an actclashed violently with the vitriol he distilled in his words.

Erik pulled away, panting. “Whydid you do that?”

Charles’s eyes were fixed on hiswith a peculiar intensity. “Because I wanted to.” He reached for Erik’s hand,fingers intertwining. The rings clanked together. “Because I can.”

He was never going to let Eriklive that down.

“I’m glad you’re here with me forthis,” Charles added, warm as you please.

Erik turned away. His eyes stung,his lips were still warm from the kiss, and his mind kept cycling throughCharles’s words, I wouldn’t trust youwith it, and I sleep with you; I wouldn’t trust you with it, and I sleep withyou; I wouldn’t trust you with it, and I sleep with you; I wouldn’t trust youwith it, and—

“You found the good champagne.”His voice barely trembled. Small mercies.

“You know I’m a sad drunk,”Charles chuckled.

“More like a sleazy drunk.”

He turned in time to see Charlesshrugging in defeat. “Can’t argue with that.” The intensity from before returnedto his eyes. He recognized it now, anticipated the plea that was bound tofollow it. “Come back inside.”

Charles needed him. That was whyhe’d followed him out, that was why… Had he timed the kiss to be seen by the others?The balcony glass doors left little privacy after all. Charles needed him toshow that a telepath could be trusted, could be loved. Charles didn’t trust himback.

“Show me to the wine.” He stompedback inside, not even turning around to check if Charles followed. He didn’tneed to.

The rest of the evening passed ina blur. When after the buffet Charles had pulled up the presentation andleaflets had changed hands, Erik had retreated to a wall with a full glass ofchampagne in hand, emerging from the shadows only to add a few relevant detailsto Charles’s talk.

Soon, but not as soon as Erikwould have liked, they were packing up and one of the councilmen wasapproaching them, a pair of new faces in uniform in tow.

“I’m delighted you could come, Professor.”The man shook Charles’s hand fervently, then ventured an uncertain nod in Erik’sdirection. “And I’m truly mortified about the dreadful reception. Dana andLeon,” the councilman pointed at the two at his back, “will make sureeverything runs smoothly on your way out. Though of course we would be honoredif you were our guests for the night”.

As if being held captives evenlonger than expected was something to look forward to. Erik fumed. “Thank you,that won’t be n–”

“Gladly,” cut in Charles, voicedripping honey. “It’s a long way back. The guest room is the same, I presume.”

The councilman looked over hisshoulder to one of the guards, who nodded.

“Well then. Dana will escort youwith the key. Have a good night.”

Charles replied in kind, moving toflank the guard on their way down the corridor. He knew Erik would follow.

***

Charles gave it two hours – allthrough his bathroom routine, Erik’s shower, and a half-distracted make outsession as they climbed up in bed – before he finally gave up and turned intoErik’s embrace to peer into his much too vigil eyes.

“You’regiving me a headache. Just say it.”

Erik bit his lip. He was dying tolet all of his grievances flow in the space between them, but he knew thatmeant risking anything else pouring out too, and Charles had to suppress asmile when he caught Erik weighting up the satisfaction of letting it all outwith the time he’d waste trying to get Charles to spoon again.

The smile had to have come throughthough, because Erik suddenly looked away, his mind taking a sharp turn intobitterness.

“Having fun, aren’t you?”

This time, Charles didn’t even tryto hide his smile as he raised a hand to Erik’s cheek for comfort, but Erikkept his gaze stubbornly averted.

“Do you trustme at all?” There. It was out.

“I trustyou with my life.”

A surge of impotence andinjustice. Erik couldn’t look away anymore.

“But notwith your powers.”

“Darling—”

“Don’t you‘darling’ me. You only use terms of endearment when you’re thinking I’mhopelessly daft.”

“Daftabout someone, definitely.”

“Less andless by the second, rest assured,” he grumbled. He felt the reins of the discourseirremediably slipping from his hands. Charles kept on sidetracking him andrefusing to acknowledge the truth. Oh, the hopeless drama queen.

“Erik,love,” Charles bit his tongue. “We’ve been on opposite sides of abarricade for too long for you to ask me that question.”

“I wouldtrust you with mine.” Erik’s pout was both tooendearing and unnerving, and Charles couldn’t resist swiping away the wrinklesit had carved in his cheek.

“Becauseyou know what I’d do with them.”

Erik’s eyes lighted up. “Make the world a better place.”

Charles sighed. “Nothing. I’d do nothing with them.”

The pout returned with avengeance.

“I don’tbelieve that.”

“Let’shope I never get the chance then.” Charlesreturned him a mirthless smile and turned around.

In the silence that followed,which granted could have been quieter if Erik’s mind hadn’t keened withunresolved tension, Erik’s arms rearranged around Charles’s middle to strokelightly at his side, the way he used to do whenever he still felt wronged butwanted the argument over more than he wanted to win. Then he perched his jaw onCharles’s shoulder and nuzzled at his neck, which was as near an admission ofdefeat as it got, with Erik.

“Are youmad at me? I was supposed to be mad at you.”

Charlessnorted, but craned his neck for a kiss anyway. “I could never be mad at you. It’sour honeymoon.”

“Oh, stopit.”

“I likeit, by the way.” Charles showed his hand and wiggled his fingers,letting the metal band catch the dim light coming in from the window. “I might want to keep it.”

Erik looked up to Charles’s ringwith unfocused eyes. Charles wondered how it felt to sense them both, his ringand Erik’s together, in the space of a single breath. If they sang to the sametune, calling to each other as their minds did.

Erik’s hold on him tightenedslightly, a wave of warmth coursing through them both.

“Yourstudents will have questions.”

***

“And that’s the story of how I gotengaged.” Charles looked positively radiant, and it was all Hank could do notto suggest another round of tests to check for drugs in his system.

Jean was silently chewing on theinside of her cheek, Scott was agape.

“Neither of you actually said thewords, right?” Hank asked, tentatively.

“You should know better than methat words are of relative importance whenever Erik is involved.”

Many a villain monologue came tomind.

“Anyway, the intention was there,and given our venerable age, we saw no need to be formal about it.”

“We are happy for you. Both. Iguess.” Ororo smiled, not quarter convinced.

“Does this mean we won’t have anymore showdowns with the Brotherhood, at least?” Logan’s nose had been aperpetual wrinkle since long before entering the room. Hank knew perfectly why,and wished he didn’t. He could smell Erik Lehnsherr as if he were there (whichwasn’t even a remote possibility, given the abundance of spacious closets inthe room).

“Probably not.”

Scott and Logan groaned in unison.

***

“You didn’t.”

“I sure did. You faked ourmarriage, what’s a fake engagement to that?”

He looked at Charles in utterdisbelief.

“This is your family! Those peoplewe’ll never see again in our lives!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,”argued Charles. “Four kids from ElefteriM will be here starting next semester forprimary education. Besides, I Iike the idea of not having to make something upevery time you quote kidnap unquote me.”

The elevator opened to the groundfloor with a ping, feeding them to the hordes of students of all ages swarmingthe hallways.

“Hi, Professor!”

“Hi, Cindy!”

Erik pressed his hat down on hisforehead, avoiding the radiant gaze of the seven year old as they passed herby. “Right, so what do you tell them now?”

“Hello, Mr Lehnsherr!” One oftheir newest students, a brat with a perennial ice drop sticking out of hisnose like a stalactite, ventured a wave. “Taking the Professor out on a date?”

Erik rolled his eyes. “Myreputation is forever ruined.”

“And how rad is that,” Charles said,not sorry in the least.

People even smiled at him in thehallways now. Gah.

[bocje-ce-ustu]

Xavierine/omegaverse, please?

Dear Anon, thank you for your prompt!!! 💖💖💖 This is probably not quite what you had in mind, but I hope you’ll enjoy it nonetheless. :D I had lots of fun playing with the idea of Beta in here.

I feel like I’m really nailing this three-sentence fic meme.

“So,uhm, about that thing I needed to tell you…”

Herewe go, Logan thinks. Hank did say something about Charles, The Ex, and a café,in the same sentence too, and Logan at first waved it off. Exes and cafés arecommon occurrences enough. So common, in fact, that exes in cafés should raiseno suspicions. Even if the ex at issue is the clingy Alpha Charles still keepsdozens and dozens of pictures of in his phone. The one he keeps inviting to everyparty they throw and that looks at Logan like he’s a waste of space, allbecause he couldn’t make his Betahappy and Logan – another Beta – could. Take that, asshole.

Butnow two days have passed since the first casual remark of a ‘thing Charlesneeds to tell him’, and honestly, it’s starting to smell.

Like,literally. Charles reeks of anxiety and grim determination. Logan knows thepre-break-up combo by heart by now.

Youthought you’d get to play at the queer couple for how much longer, exactly? Youfool.

Loganinhales. He’s not ready to be a single parent yet.

Aboutthat… Logan might have his own revelation to make.

Charlessits him down, takes his hands, then proceeds to knock the breath out of him.

“Darling,we’re pregnant.”

Good,one thing less to worry about.

Thoughthat doesn’t make much sense. Charles knows Logan’s pregnant and he’s gonna leavehim anyway? They’ve been planning for this, for fuck’s sake! A family of theirown. And now a random café meeting happens and it all turns to dust?

Oh,no, of course Charles is gonna raise their child with Logan, just with… morepaperwork in between. Charles leaves no loose threads. Except The Ex, that is.

“Stop.Stop stop stop, please stop, love. It’s nothing of the sort.” Charles’s hold onhis hands tightens slightly. And… “And his name’s Erik, stop—”

“—stopcalling him like that. Yeah, I know.” Logan rolls his eyes. “So you know I’mpregnant. What about it?”

Charleshuffs, shakes his head a little as if he’s the one who can’t quite wrap hishead around all of this. “You know when we started trying,” he begins “and thenour heats kinda aligned…” Oh, yeah, the funny business of two Betas livingtogether. It’s quite hard to forget being so turned on that every surface –horizontal and vertical – seems likea good option, and passing out onto the dishwasher afterwards three times in aweek. “… and…” Charles’s voice turns suspiciously sheepish, syllables tumblingout of his mouth in a rush “… I might have forgotten about protection, and itwas only once but apparently it was enough.” He peers up at Logan. “But it’s agood thing, right?”

Loganall of a sudden understands what it means to be that character in a soap operathat needs a minute.

They’vebeen trying to get Logan pregnant, so why would Charles need protection in thefirst place?

Itwas only once but apparently it was enough.

Oh.

Charles’seyes light up as soon as Logan finishes connecting all the dots.

“Sowe’re pregnant.” Logan feels like laughing, whether in joy, relief orbewilderment he doesn’t know.

Charlessmiles. “We are.”

[bocje-ce-ustu]

WIP Week - Newest WIP

Continuing WIP Week with neighbors kindly hating each other. You probably saw this coming. Watch out for language. Like. Right now.

Charles Xavier is a slut.

No no no, it’s not the envy talking. Erik is not that petty.

Since he started counting, which was seven months ago and three days into his new place, Erik has seen 76 different people entering his neighbor’s apartment in a daze or leaving it in some degree of dishevelment. Seen. Doesn’t exactly account for the number of nights Erik’s had a pretty detailed vocal report on the ongoing activities beyond the wall (leading up to more than one awkward instance where he had someone over for the night, and the noises from the adjacent apartment managed to drown out his own moans – if that’s not an out-of-body experience, Erik doesn’t know what is). 139, if you were wondering.

It doesn’t help that Erik can feel every single spring of the bed in his own bones, as it compresses and stretches and bounces under the changing pressure of two (when he’s lucky) bodies. Never mind the metal alloy frame and headboard.

Erik has long forgotten the feeling of a good night’s sleep.

Why leave it at that though? Hardcore sexually active neighbor: it could almost be a funny anecdote to laugh about with guests. No, you guessed right. There’s more.

[bocje-ce-ustu]

Would you ever write a story which ends in a tragedy, or with one of the protagonists dying, or with anything but a happy ending?

Good question, my dear! 💙💙💙

I’ve done something pretty close to that in a WIP back when I wrote magepipo in the Steel Ball Run fandom, but then again it was about a canon compliant death of a canonically tragic character, so I don’t think that actually counts XD

Thing is, I’m afraid I’m too much of a softie to write a complete and utter tragedy: every single time I have the characters suffer (which they do. A Lot.), I can’t help adding a tiny glimpse of happiness (or hope for future happiness) at the end of the darkness.

With my OCs I’m generally more ruthless, but even when I do try to kill them off, they usually fake their death, leave the country and live happily ever after well away from me (and in the rare chance they don’t, at least their loved ones do, so there’s that).

As for fic, I love the banter above everything else, and to write that, I need the characters alive and well, don’t I? :D

Writer’s Would You Ever

[bocje-ce-ustu]

WIP Week - Most Popular WIP

... I guess? For WIP Week Day 5 a very rough draft from a scene I wrote ages ago for the arranged marriage Alpha!Charles Omega!Erik AU. It gets a bit NSFW-ish under the cut (nothing serious).

He didn’t think he’d be able to breathe so easily, nor so soon. Their lips haven’t even touched.

“Please don’t. I don’t want you to do that if you don’t mean it.”

And you don’t, Erik clearly thinks, and Charles hates him a little, because that hurts, but hates himself more, because he put that distrust there in the first place, and now he can’t expect Erik to feel differently, not when Charles’s been so careless and detached all along.

He can only hope time and dedication will speak for him.

“I want to. If you want.”

“You think you want to, but there’s no guarantee it’s not the hormones talking,” Erik counters grimly.

Charles raises a hand to cup his cheek, thumb lightly stroking stubbly skin. Luckily enough, Erik doesn’t pull away this time. “It’s not a heat, Erik. You can’t force me into anything I don’t want to do already.”

“But you can feel what I feel, can’t you? And it’s going to get louder and you’re going to be keener on getting me what I need. That’s how pregnancy hormones work.”

“I can still decide whether to act on it or not.”

“Are you sure you can?” Erik leans in and kisses him on the lips, firm and dry, and just stays there, waiting for his resolve to break. Charles doesn’t rise to the bait, as much as the contact is welcome and habit would have him answer it in kind. Instead he waits for Erik to pull away again, which he does, a few moments later, only to take Charles’s hand to his lips and kiss every fingertip in turn, pausing between each kiss to gaze over at Charles, daring him to react.

When that doesn’t work either, Erik slips one of Charles’s fingers into his mouth and starts sucking on it, slow and deliberate, a parade of obscene images projecting in the space between them.

“I don’t understand if you actually want me to reciprocate or if you’re just waiting for me to do that so you can prove your point.”

Charles’s finger slips out of Erik’s mouth, which curls into a lewd smile, but Erik holds onto Charles’s hand and contemplates his finger, slick and shiny with spit. “You’re already proving my point.”

Charles swallows carefully.

“But don’t worry,” Erik adds, “I don’t want you to do anything.” And just like that, Erik drags his hand down between their bodies. Charles can feel Erik’s legs shifting, parting slightly beneath the sheets, and jerks away his hand from Erik’s grip.

“I think I’ll sleep in the study tonight.” He sits up and turns down the coverlet, self-conscious as he feels a flush spreading across his face and chest. At least the room is dark.

When he gets up and makes his way to the door, Erik doesn’t try to stop him.