Prompt Post: ROUND EIGHT
ROUND EIGHT IS CLOSED
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<< ROUND SEVEN | ALL ROUNDS | ROUND NINE >>
Rules post.
Posting Guidelines.
Flat view.
Updates Post (WIPs only)
Fills Post (completed Fills only)
damalur's firstclasskink on Delicious.
Volunteers always welcome.
Please use the Discussion Post if you want to talk about community alterations or get starshipbadass' modly attention. Do not ( Read more... )
So Erik starts dating Charles, a human, and he's all embarrassed about it but then, BWAHREVELATIONANDLIFECHANGINGVIEWCHANGE, an he loves him regardless and is proudly showing off his very human lover.
BUT THEN: (Oh no!)
Charles' mutant abilities pop up. (Late bloomer?) And Charles immediately shows Erik, thinking about how happy he will be to not contradict his beliefs by screwing a normie.
But Erik hates it.
But not because of the mutation itself, he just doesn't like that Charles has one, because now Charles is a BAMF and doesn't need Erik to protect him all the time. (And Erik was always slightly turned on how he would always be stronger than weak Charles; kinda like a size kink) So Erik feels unneeded because Charles can just cancel out his powers (Erik's) with a thought and broods.
He won't speak to Charles, whenever Charles enters a room he leaves, etc.
Charles thinks Erik doesn't like his mutation and tries to suppress it, trying to fit in again but that only make Erik even more irritated, Erik thinking Charles is uncomfortable with his gift. (Mutant and Proud!)
So misunderstandings all around and stuff, but eventually happy ending and lovely cuddle time on the couch?
Bonuses:
Manly tears from them both as they make up
It's in front of all of Erik's tough, Super-Pro-Mutant buds
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‘This is your own fault,’ Erik says crossly. ‘I warned you.’ He’s annoyed with himself too. If he hadn’t snuck round behind the kitchens for a smoke he would never have got involved.
‘Yes, you did,’ Charles says, picking a strand of spaghetti off his nose. ‘Would you give me a hand, please?’
Erik hauls him out of the dumpster and Charles squelches to the ground with obvious relief. ‘Thank you,’ he says feelingly. ‘You make a good knight errant.’ He peers sadly into the neighbouring dumpster. ‘My bag’s in this one. Yuck. I think I’d rather get a new one than go digging around in there.’
Erik fumbles with his mind and finds the familiar shape of a strap adjustor. He concentrates. The bag rises from the depths and hovers in front of Charles. It doesn’t look too bad, only a few stains that will probably wipe off, or at least dry into something that doesn’t smell.
Charles reaches for it and smiles delightedly. ‘Groovy.’
Erik stares at him. ‘Groovy? What decade are you from?’
‘Well it is groovy,’ Charles says, with the tiniest of pouts.
‘It’s the awesome power of a god, Charles,’ Erik says patiently. ‘It’s what makes me innately superior to you pitiful second-rate humans. I will not submit to being called groovy. Not by someone with gravy in his hair.’
Charles touches his head gingerly. ‘Really? Where?’
‘Everywhere. What happened?’
‘I’d have thought that was obvious,’ Charles says, wrinkling his nose. He looks a bit like a squirrel. It’s a surprisingly good look for him.
Erik sighs. ‘Who did it?’ He’d only caught sight of retreating backs and it had seemed more important to save Charles from drowning in garbage.
‘They didn’t introduce themselves,’ Charles says seriously. Then he sees Erik’s impatient expression and tapping foot and gives in, grinning. ‘Alright, if you must know. It was your friend from the other day, the one with the tornados, and a rather terrifying person with a cigarette lighter. But they didn’t mean any harm. I mean, he didn’t actually set me on fire, did he? And I suppose I am making waves, being friends with Raven, but she’s lovely and I don’t know many other people.’ He glances up. ‘Oh, look, speak of the devil…’
Erik spins around. Raven Darkholme is sprinting around the corner, looking exceedingly pissed off.
‘Charles,’ she calls, ‘are you alright? Someone told me-’ Then she sees Erik and breaks off, skidding to a halt a few feet away. ‘You total jerk,’ she snarls, flipping her scales and growing at least a foot in both directions. She looms over him as a hulking bouncer type, all shiny shaved head and tattoos. ‘You’re going to regret this, what did Charles ever do to you?’
Only smiled at me, Erik thinks irritably.
‘I’m really ok,’ Charles says, but she pays no attention, still focused on Erik.
‘Raven, there’s a metal dumpster full of garbage right here,’ Erik reminds her, juddering it warningly. ‘You don’t want it tipped all over you. Calm the fuck down, I didn’t do anything to your precious human boyfriend.’
‘Bullshit. Look at him.’
Erik does. Charles looks ridiculous, smeared with tomato sauce and covered with unidentifiable scraps, but his sunny smile is back in place. He seems pretty much unconcerned at the state he’s in. Erik gives him a meaningful help me out here look. Charles looks innocently back. ‘You did call me a pitiful second-rate human,’ he points out.
Raven growls and advances.
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‘Emma, in her cheerleading skirt, on the hood of my car,’ Azazel says musingly. ‘I suppose Raven could look as good, but Emma’s got to be dirtier. She can see your fantasies, y’know. Hey, Erik, what do you think?’
‘Dude, Erik doesn’t get a vote,’ Riptide objects.
Erik glances up. He’d zoned out of the conversation completely but it’s not exactly hard to work out where it’s coming from. ‘Yeah, not my thing, unless she’s grown a dick since I last saw her,’ he says.
‘Aw, are we boring you with our manly talk?’ Havok asks. Erik glowers at him until his grin falters. ‘Fine, fine, my bad, subject change.’ He pauses thoughtfully. ‘Hey, did you hear about Seb Shaw over at Bellshire High? He got suspended for not giving a blood sample. Angel told me that now they’ve got a twenty foot crater in their football field.’ He mimes the hole with a satisfied gesture. ‘Of course, they properly kicked him out for that. Maybe he’ll end up here.’
Azazel shrugs. ‘Dumb,’ he says. ‘That shit doesn’t help anything.’
Refusing to give blood is actually illegal, and it pisses Erik off every single time. He gives Azazel a level look. ‘If you’re not willing to get your hands dirty you’re welcome to go cosy up to the norms. Or sit and wait till they cut off your tail and put you in a cage.’
Azazel glares at the floor. ‘I’ll get my hands dirty. Just not by blowing symbolic holes in football fields.’
‘Besides, Seb Shaw’s a psycho. You know that, Erik, it’s practically your mantra,’ Riptide says.
Seb Shaw is a psycho, and personally Erik hates his fucking sadistic guts, but at least Seb doesn’t plan on letting mutants be registered and regulated like criminals, and experimented on like animals. Not by weak little humans.
He looks around the halls of thronging students. In high school the mutants are the alpha group. Emma rules the cheerleading squad and Erik rules the football team, everyone thinks their powers are cool, and nobody dares to mess with them. But it won’t always be high school. That thought keeps him awake at night sometimes. And there are the blood tests and the other tests, to make sure they’re not getting too strong. Seb’s got the right idea, they’ve got to take things into their own hands someday.
Yeah, Seb’s right. If only he wasn’t such an asshole.
Erik sighs. Halls packed with students, and under 3% mutants. All these humans. It’s so much to go up against.
At that moment they’re passing a shrimpy kid that Erik vaguely recalls noticing in a couple of his classes, standing out somewhat for his sensitive face and air of gentle curiosity. He’s pretty cute, but he’s a human, so… yeah, Erik’s not going to hit that.
He walks on by. Riptide, however, turns and glares. He shoots out an arm and snags him by the collar, jerking him sideways. Suddenly finding himself jammed up against a locker, the kid gives a little grunt of surprise and blinks up in bewilderment. He has bright blue eyes, oddly innocent, and looks helpless as a kitten.
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:D
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The kid raises his hand as though to scrabble at Riptide’s wrist, then obviously thinks better of it. ‘We’re friends, that’s all,’ he says, with a surprising amount of composure for someone pinned by the collar and menaced by a microclimate. Despite himself, Erik is kind of impressed. Also, he has a very sexy accent.
‘Sure, you little normie pervert,’ Riptide says. His voice takes on a sing-song, condescending tone. ‘Now, you’re going to be a good human and tell me that you’ll keep away from her, aren’t you?’ He twirls the tornado a little larger so the kid has to tilt his head backwards, hard against the metal. His face shows clearly that he’s scared but he presses his lips together determinedly.
Riptide laughs. ‘No? You’re a troublemaker, are you? You know, I really hate to do this…’
‘Shut up, Rip,’ Erik says, without quite knowing why. ‘Leave him alone.’
Riptide looks round in confusion, his tornado fading into a puff of air. ‘What the fuck, Erik?’
The others all stare as if he’s grown another head, like that kid in chem class. Erik scrambles to cover up the bizarre lapse. ‘Seriously, look at him,’ he manages. ‘He’s already so pathetic that I’m ashamed to be related to his species. Don’t make it any worse.’
It's kind of weak, but they seam to buy it. Riptide grins and Azazel laughs nastily. ‘True. All humans are pathetic, but I’ll admit this one’s ahead of the curve. Drop it, Rip, or he’ll go whining to Principal McTaggart.’
‘Yeah, come on,’ Havok says. ‘It’d be fun to blow his head off but it’s kinda not worth it.’ He checks his watch. ‘I want a burger anyway, we’ve got time before class if we hurry.’
Riptide lets go, giving the kid a final shove that sets him stumbling and sends his messenger bag slithering to the floor. ‘You’re hungry again?’ he complains. ‘Fuck, Havok, can’t we feed you through a drip or something?’
‘Screw you. Laser beams take energy.’
‘You haven’t been shooting any laser beams,’ Azazel points out reasonably.
The three of them straggle, bickering, towards the cafeteria. Erik hangs back, watching until they’re a safe distance away.
When he turns round the kid is calmly straightening his blazer. ‘Thanks,’ he says, ‘that was unexpectedly nice of you.’ He smooths back his rumpled brown hair with one hand and crouches on his heels to recover a pile of magazines that slipped out of his bag.
Erik reaches for the one nearest his foot. New England Journal of Medicine. Huh, heavy stuff. Brave, smart and cute. Unfortunately he’s sniffing after Raven, which means he’s straight. Plus he’s genetically inferior. It’s a shame.
‘Yeah, well don’t get used to it,’ he says gruffly, standing up and handing over the journal. ‘Stay out of our way, norm. You’d better stop hanging out with Raven or you’ll have to deal with worse than those little bitty tornados.’
The kid smiles ruefully. ‘Sorry, I can’t do that, even if I am only a pathetic human. But I’ll watch my back.’ He sticks out a hand. ‘I’m Charles, by the way. Charles Xavier’
Erik glances around warily.
‘Come on, nobody’s watching,’ Charles says, amused.
Erik takes his hand. ‘Erik Lehnsherr.’ Charles’s grip is firm and warm.
‘Well, thank you again Erik. I expect I’ll see you around.’ He smiles again, blindingly this time.
Not if I see you first, Erik thinks. Those innocent eyes are unsettling, somehow. They make him feel uncertain, self-conscious, like he’s constantly on the verge of blushing.
No, he’ll be staying well clear of Charles Xavier.
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‘This is your own fault,’ Erik says crossly. ‘I warned you.’ He’s annoyed with himself too. If he hadn’t snuck round behind the kitchens for a smoke he would never have got involved.
‘Yes, you did,’ Charles says, picking a strand of spaghetti off his nose. ‘Would you give me a hand, please?’
Erik hauls him out of the dumpster and Charles squelches to the ground with obvious relief. ‘Thank you,’ he says feelingly. ‘You make a good knight errant.’ He peers sadly into the neighbouring dumpster. ‘My bag’s in this one. Yuck. I think I’d rather get a new one than go digging around in there.’
Erik fumbles with his mind and finds the familiar shape of a strap adjustor. He concentrates. The bag rises from the depths and hovers in front of Charles. It doesn’t look too bad, only a few stains that will probably wipe off, or at least dry into something that doesn’t smell.
Charles reaches for it and smiles delightedly. ‘Groovy.’
Erik stares at him. ‘Groovy? What decade are you from?’
‘Well it is groovy,’ Charles says, with the tiniest of pouts.
‘It’s the awesome power of a god, Charles,’ Erik says patiently. ‘It’s what makes me innately superior to you pitiful second-rate humans. I will not submit to being called groovy. Not by someone with gravy in his hair.’
Charles touches his head gingerly. ‘Really? Where?’
‘Everywhere. What happened?’
‘I’d have thought that was obvious,’ Charles says, wrinkling his nose. He looks a bit like a squirrel. It’s a surprisingly good look for him.
Erik sighs. ‘Who did it?’ He’d only caught sight of retreating backs and it had seemed more important to save Charles from drowning in garbage.
‘They didn’t introduce themselves,’ Charles says seriously. Then he sees Erik’s impatient expression and tapping foot and gives in, grinning. ‘Alright, if you must know. It was your friend from the other day, the one with the tornados, and a rather terrifying person with a cigarette lighter. But they didn’t mean any harm. I mean, he didn’t actually set me on fire, did he? And I suppose I am making waves, being friends with Raven, but she’s lovely and I don’t know many other people.’ He glances up. ‘Oh, look, speak of the devil…’
Erik spins around. Raven Darkholme is sprinting around the corner, looking exceedingly pissed off.
‘Charles,’ she calls, ‘are you alright? Someone told me-’ Then she sees Erik and breaks off, skidding to a halt a few feet away. ‘You total jerk,’ she snarls, flipping her scales and growing at least a foot in both directions. She looms over him as a hulking bouncer type, all shiny shaved head and tattoos. ‘You’re going to regret this, what did Charles ever do to you?’
Only smiled at me, Erik thinks irritably.
‘I’m really ok,’ Charles says, but she pays no attention, still focused on Erik.
‘Raven, there’s a metal dumpster full of garbage right here,’ Erik reminds her, juddering it warningly. ‘You don’t want it tipped all over you. Calm the fuck down, I didn’t do anything to your precious human boyfriend.’
‘Bullshit. Look at him.’
Erik does. Charles looks ridiculous, smeared with tomato sauce and covered with unidentifiable scraps, but his sunny smile is back in place. He seems pretty much unconcerned at the state he’s in. Erik gives him a meaningful help me out here look. Charles looks innocently back. ‘You did call me a pitiful second-rate human,’ he points out.
Raven growls and advances.
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Charles relents and nods, grinning impishly. ‘He really was. We were getting on famously, actually.’
Raven slowly deflates back to schoolgirl size, looking puzzled. ‘Seriously? You can’t have been. Erik doesn’t get on famously with humans, he’s the school’s notorious crazed mutant supremacist.’
Erik scowls. He really isn’t. Notorious, yes, pro-mutant, yes, crazed, no. Or no more than he needs to be to scare the plebs into submission.
She prods at his arm suspiciously. ‘You can’t be Erik. Are you another shape-shifter in there?’
‘Watch it, Darkholme.’ Erik shakes the garbage again, partly as identity confirmation and partly to emphasise that he doesn’t put up with this shit from tiny little sophomores.
She glares up into his face, her little nose twitching with anger. ‘No, I won’t watch it,’ she snaps. ‘If you didn’t do this to Charles then it was your horrible friends. It’s still your fault, they just imitate you like monkeys.’
‘Now, come on Raven,’ Charles says. ‘Erik’s done nothing but look after me.’
‘Oh, you’re buddies now? He’d never be seen in public with you, though,’ Raven says, jabbing an accusing finger. She’s back in her favourite pretty blonde shape but her eyes glitter yellow. ‘You just watch, next time you meet in the hallways. Or you could try to sit at his table at lunch, then he’d have to stab you with the cutlery. He’s a bigot,’ she spits.
Erik grits his teeth. Little know-it-all brat. ‘I am not a bigot, and Charles is welcome to sit with me at lunch.’ Then he suddenly realises what he’s said. Fuck. Seriously, fuck, because Charles is smiling like he’s been given a puppy.
‘I can?’ he says. ‘That’s great, I’d love to.’ God, he’s standing there in the shadow of a dumpster into which he’s just been thrown by Erik’s friends, still dripping goo onto the tarmac. There is no way anybody should look so happy in this situation.
No, you really can’t, Erik thinks sickly. Unfortunately Charles’s smile is making fluttering feelings through the pit of his stomach and the words won’t seem to come out of his mouth. ‘Yeah,’ he says weakly, ‘sure.’
Raven shoots him an incredulous glance and yes, it is kind of unbelievable. He sits with Rip, Azazel and Havok, plus Emma, her cheerleading minions Angel and Jubilee, and any of the younger mutants that are in favour. Humans are not welcome, not even the guys from the football team.
‘We are so holding you to that. Tomorrow.’ She glares.
Erik looks back at her coldly until her eyes flicker back to blue and she drops her gaze. ‘Come on Charles,’ she says resentfully, and stalks away.
Charles turns to follow her, then pauses. He blinks shyly up at Erik. ‘Um, by the way,’ he says, a little flushed, ‘you called me her boyfriend. Well, I’m not. Just so you know.’
‘Charles!’ Raven yells.
‘See you tomorrow!’ Charles says, ‘I’m looking forward to it. Oh, and thanks again for the knight errant thing.’ Then he’s gone.
Erik slumps back against the wall and fumbles for his delayed cigarette. Tomorrow. Oh crap, how the hell is he going to explain this?
But for some reason he finds himself smiling.
Charles is not Raven’s boyfriend, and Charles had looked at Erik like… like he was the kind of person it was great to be allowed to sit with. Like, despite the bunch of mutants that would be at the table, all busily despising him, with Erik there Charles wouldn’t be afraid.
It felt really good, to be looked at like that.
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‘Man, your credibility is gonna go through the floor,’ Havok says mournfully. ‘I mean, we like you and all, but you can’t ask Raven’s human stalker boyfriend to come sit with us. What are people supposed to think?’
‘They’ll think what we tell them to think.’ Azazel stretches out his tail and flicks the tip at Erik. ‘It’s just some stupid bet. You’re the boss. We can make nice with the lesser beings for one day.’
‘Fuck that,’ Riptide growls, ‘We toss him back in the garbage where he belongs. You can bring him, Erik, but I’m going to make him sorry he came.’
‘Do and I’ll cut off your balls while you sleep,’ Erik says calmly, ‘with your toenail clippers. Messily.’
The others smirk. Riptide scowls. ‘Go fuck yourself Erik,’ he snaps. Then, in a regrettably audible undertone, he mutters, ‘Norm-lover.’
There’s a stifled silence. ‘Shit,’ Havok murmurs, very quietly.
Erik feels the muscles in his back stretching themselves out. Suddenly he feels beautifully relaxed. He smiles. ‘Hey, Rip?’
Riptide looks uncomfortable. ‘Come on Erik, it’s fucking ridiculous,’ he protests.
‘What did you just call me, Rip?’ Erik asks gently. With a leisurely flick of his mind, he brings his favourite chunk of iron slithering out of his bag.
Riptide swallows. His gaze flicks from the metal to Azazel and Havok, then back to Erik. ‘Look, don’t be a dick about it.’
‘Because I thought I heard you say something just now. Was I wrong?’ Erik says.
‘Jesus… look, yes, you were wrong. Just forget it.’
‘I don’t think I was,’ Erik says, letting his voice go cold. The iron snaps out from ball to sheet in a split second.
‘Holy crap,’ Havok says involuntarily. Erik bites down on a smile. He’s practiced this and it’s pretty goddamn impressive. It’s actually nice to get a chance to try it out.
‘Erik,’ Azazel says warningly.
‘This is going to make a sphere around your head, Rip,’ Erik says, ‘and then it’s going to contract until the metal touches your skin everywhere. You know, like a mask, except without the holes.’
Havok whistles, grinning manically. ‘Dude, that’s really fucking cool.’
Riptide is white under his tan. ‘Fuck you,’ he says shakily.
‘Don’t worry,’ Erik says, cranking up the smile, ‘I can do it to within a millimetre. It won’t hurt you at all. Breathing might be a little difficult though.’ He moves his sheet towards Riptide then slides it round behind him. The sides are already beginning to curve.
‘Enough, Erik, he gets the point,’ Azazel says, ‘Don’t you, Rip?’
Riptide finally drops his pretence at bravado and nods hurriedly, twisting his head round to keep tabs on the metal. ‘Seriously, point taken. That was out of line. If you want the human you can have the human, no big deal.’
‘You know,’ Erik says cheerfully, ‘I thought you’d say something like that.’ He snaps the metal back into a ball and catches it neatly.
Havok bursts out laughing. ‘Oh fuck, Rip, your face. That was awesome, I should’ve got it on camera.’
‘Fuck off.’
Even Azazel grins. ‘Yeah, well you deserved it.’ He leans back in his chair, tail-tip twitching with amusement. ‘So, we’re all agreed? We’re ok with Raven’s boyfriend joining us? We gonna be nice and inclusive?’
Riptide shrugs. Doesn’t matter,’ he says, with bitter satisfaction, ‘Emma’s going to fuck him up anyway.’
Havok shrugs. ‘Can't argue with that. What can you do? Women.’
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