kleenexwoman: A blonde man without a shirt, wearing a space helment and lightning bolt sash (Pulp hero)
Mating Instinct
Admittedly, I prompted this myself and then later thought up a fill for it. The style is kind of pretentious, but I felt like it worked with the conceit. In the movie, there's no question that mutants are a different species, but nobody really plays with that in fanfic. I wanted to try bringing that into a fanfic.

The Angel and the Wise Man
The prompt was "fallen angel and priest." I sometimes get annoyed with how Christian-mythology-centric fanfic can be and try to mix it up by making sure that Jews represent. I'm pleased with how I managed to keep Erik's issues about his own existence and make that work within the framework of his AU persona as an angel cut off from God. This is a work in progress!

Welcome to the Machine
A steampunk prompt. It ended up being more of a tour of the steampunk world I'm slowly formulating via Erik and Charles, with no real action.

More to come! Maybe!
kleenexwoman: A green face with its lips sewn shut.  (Zombie crush)
The concept: Take a pairing or character, set your music player on "Random," play the first few 5-10 songs (I chose eight), write drabbles based around them.

This set is for Viola. It just kind of happened.

Robot Spell Kill Folsom Addicted Untold Hair Ramble )
kleenexwoman: A girl in a pink bikini reading a book (Nymphet for books)
Title: Happiness
Author's Notes: Rule 63, always-opposite-sex mode. Takes place during "Brimstone", but may be counted as AU aside from the genderswap because I ended up veering off the plot.
Warning for: Very slight hints of incest.

Pendergast had expected Lord Victor Maskelene to be an old man, someone doddering and imperious. )
kleenexwoman: A girl in a pink bikini reading a book (Nymphet for books)
Two Times Pendergast Tried BDSM With Someone

written for a kinkmeme thread off-LJ


***

margoooo )

***

violaaaa )
kleenexwoman: A caricature of me looking future-y.  (Default)
They watch the fiery cloud rise above the city. Illya can almost feel heat on his face, cutting through the salt breeze. Beside him, Napoleon makes a strangled moaning sound.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Marinetti asks. The rogue THRUSH anarchist’s face is rapt, sincere. Illya imagines New York, now--monuments of steel and glass twisting into charred lacy tangles, pedestrians vaporized in an instant, their shadows etched into the concrete.

He can hear Napoleon retching over the side of the boat. How odd, Illya thinks distantly. Napoleon never gets seasick.

Marinetti glances at him and shrugs. “Not everyone appreciates modern art.”

kleenexwoman: A green face with its lips sewn shut.  (Zombie crush)
The inside of the Prague compound smells of dead earth and old paper, musty and choking. They smash the carefully sculpted arms and legs and torsos they find in the laboratory, showering the floor with clay. Illya rifles through sheets of crabbed Hebrew he knows are not innocuous as code.

They find Professor Bergl’s severed head in a corner in the laboratory, mouth open in shock, three Hebrew characters--aleph mem tav--carved into the temple. There’s a trail of dry red splashes leading to the smashed door, but it’s impossible to tell by now if they’re clay or blood.
kleenexwoman: A picture of a man swooning girlishly against a wall.  (Strapping young bucks)
Illya was seven, and he feared the rusalka in the pond. He saw her blonde hair waving like seaweed, her eyes warm as sky, decoys for the rotting monster he knew lay beneath. He knew she stretched out her long white arms not to hold him, but to drag motherless boys down into the cold.

Through Moscow, Oxford, Paris, New York, he thinks he has left her behind. But he sees her treacherous eyes and strangling arms in the woman his best friend swears is an angel, like her name. Napoleon has no fear, and Illya knows he will drown.

kleenexwoman: A girl in a pink bikini reading a book (Nymphet for books)
I wrote this for the Yuletide Treasure thing last year. I totally love this series, but for some reason, this is the only thing I've ever written on my own for it. Most of the squeeing and storytelling I do for it is with [personal profile] drworm over IM, and that's really how I like it. Even this was based off our conversations. I do think it turned out well.

Traces )
kleenexwoman: A girl in a pink bikini reading a book (Nymphet for books)
This was an assignment for my Shakespeare class--the assignment was to write a short play in which we invited five Shakespearean characters to a dinner party and had a conversation about the role of women. Since I hate writing myself into things (or did at the time), I substituted Doctor Who and Martha for me--anyway, they have a TARDIS and would be more likely to be able to run around time picking up characters. (The prof told me that he loved it and that I "really felt" the characters. \o/)

What a piece of work is man...and woman )
kleenexwoman: A picture of a man swooning girlishly against a wall.  (Strapping young bucks)
I wrote this for an anonymous Secret Santa. Stuff like that seems to be the only thing that will get me to actually finish whole stories in this fandom. Anyway, the prompt that I used was "bureaucracy," and I couldn't figure out what to do with it, then the day I graduated I took some acid that I'd had sitting in the freezer for six months, and in the middle of the (rather disappointing) trip, I figured out what the story was going to be about. It worked that time, but I suspect this method may be a one-trick pony.

The Electric Espresso Acid Test )
kleenexwoman: A picture of a man swooning girlishly against a wall.  (Strapping young bucks)
I wrote this for a "Guess the Author" challenge. The first person guessed it was me because of the spookiness and mythological background, which was impressive because at that point I hadn't written anything else for that fandom except for that "Cigarettes" drabble. My Livejournal tells too many tales for games like these, apparently.

The Pomegranate Affair )
kleenexwoman: A caricature of me looking future-y.  (Cinnamon sees all)
This is my favorite piece of fanfiction that I never thought anyone would care about. I adore Cinnamon Carter, and someday I will explain exactly why this is. I'm pleased that I accomplished what I wanted to with this and that I did it without having to make any characters say anything about it.

Strike a Pose )
kleenexwoman: A picture of a man swooning girlishly against a wall.  (Strapping young bucks)
I was trying to quit smoking at the time. It didn't work very well, because I still really liked smoking. Now that cigarettes make me sick, it's been very easy to quit.

Cigarettes )
kleenexwoman: The legs and shoes of three different people, looking as flirtatious as legs and shoes can be.  (Three pairs of shoes)
so yeah, this is furry fic. I wrote this for an April Fool's joke, but somehow it turned out cuter than I meant it to. It was also another volley in the most passive-aggressive fandom war ever--actually, you can assume that most of what I write for this fandom is. Doesn't make it any less valid, just adds another layer to the text.

You and Me Baby Ain't Nothing But Mammals )
kleenexwoman: The legs and shoes of three different people, looking as flirtatious as legs and shoes can be.  (Three pairs of shoes)
I'm still proud of this one. I posted it a few days before my 19th birthday, and it took me a long time to write. I wrote it to question a lot of the assumptions people made about the ending of the series. It's not happy, and it's largely internal, and it was also a big hint that I had a definite preference for certain themes.

Time is a Wave and a Particle )

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kleenexwoman: A caricature of me looking future-y.  (Default)
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