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midnightdiddle [userpic]

AU Meme.

June 17th, 2010 (12:42 am)
current mood: satisfied
current song: 夏祭り, Whiteberry (the never ending repeat~)

Ganked from hiza_chan, since I actually finished the last one I did.

→ Give me an AU and I'll write you a short scene from it. It can be an AU with a change of events ("what if Roxas hadn't left the Organization"), or a change of setting (Organization XIII assassins), or a crossover setting (Avatar characters in Kingdom Hearts verse), or even a crossover in a different setting (what if Sheik was Roxas' long lost brother?) I'm not writing this. Or whatever you can come up with.

Any fandom's open.


Posted by: until the world goes boom-boom-boom (hiza_chan)
Posted at: June 17th, 2010 07:01 am (UTC)
[Colin&James] You know how much I love y

I wanna cheat and say an AU based off of this AMV cause I'm pretty sure Rudy's not gonna do it. Cause I've been wanting fic for this ever since I saw it. If you'd rather write something different, just lemme know. :)

Posted by: midnightdiddle (midnightdiddle)
Posted at: June 20th, 2010 07:14 am (UTC)
flowers cherry blossoms

HOOOOLY CRAP I'm doing it. Though it will take a while, because I am always slow. :D

Posted by: midnightdiddle (midnightdiddle)
Posted at: July 5th, 2010 05:08 pm (UTC)
zelda navi

It's Thursday night, a Ladies' Night, so the club is full of more women and girls than usual. The air smells like beer and sweat, a tinge of sex beneath all of it, and Arthur can feel the night curl beneath his tongue like a lazy cat. Anticipation is a throaty feeling, makes him go heady, and he dances with everyone, arms loose and hips feeling like liquid sand. It is, with one too many drinks and three too many drags, a good night.

His hands are on a girl's hips, just above her tight skirt, and when he looks over the top of her head, he has a moment of

heat, the summer sun beating down on his neck. sweating beneath the heavy links of his chainmail

vertigo. He tightens his hands on the girl's hips, rests his cheek against the side of her head. Sweat is running down his back, and he can feel it collect in the small of his back, into the back of his trousers. The club is like

too many hot summer days, the wheat in the fields dying before it's half-grown. nights spent sleeping on stone, unable to breathe

a furnace.

He pets the girl's stomach absently, feels her smooth her hand along his hip and thigh. When he pulls away, she spins into another man, drunken laughing and bright eyes. Arthur swallows back the throaty feeling, feels his stomach spin like the girls around him. He's had too many drinks, too many drags. Too many-- lives; dreams; moments tipping his head back until he falls into oblivion.

Arthur fights his way through the crowd to the big freight doors, open to the outside. The cold air is a jolt to his stomach and throat, and he breathes out, slow and shaky, as he leans his forehead against one of the heavy metal doors. It's cold against his skin, and the shock takes the edge off the dizzy, dippy feeling that's pooling in the base of his skull. Too much, too much, and he turns his head, rests his cheek against the door like he had rested it against the girl's head five minutes ago.

"Are you drunk?" someone asks. Arthur thinks about it. About how he's staggered on his feet, leaning against a freight door like it's a lover. Thinks about the way his body keeps feeling something not here, hot summer days with the sun beating down on dusty roads, and says, "yeah."

The someone laughs, closer, and Arthur lets his head roll on the door until he's look back into the club, and at a man with dark hair and a skinny, anorexic-looking face.

Posted by: midnightdiddle (midnightdiddle)
Posted at: July 5th, 2010 05:09 pm (UTC)
zelda navi

"I'm not supposed to talk to you," the man says, and he reaches up, pulls at his own hair. His fingernails are painted black, shiny and unchipped, and Arthur thinks of witches and fires.

"Then why are you?" Arthur asks, words slow and syrupy, and the man laughs again.

"Because you're drunk, and I'm drunk, and I can feel the sun."

It makes no sense, Arthur knows, but maybe it's because it makes no sense that Arthur can feel something like understanding, right there on the edge of his brain. Another drink, he thinks, and another drag, and he'll have it, he'll understand

the way the cloak was always so heavy on his shoulders, like his father's hands, and the way he sank into the sea, halfway to Avalon but never quite there, dead in the water a thousand million times


"What are you?" Arthur tries to ask as the man grabs him, cold and clammy hands on Arthur's arms. Arthur breathes through his nose, dizzy air, and let himself take a few steps forward.

"Shouldn't touch you, either," the man says, and when he lets go and walks away, Arthur finds himself following him. It is like-- he is going mad, he thinks. He can't make his feet stop moving, and he can't look away from the man's shoulder. When the crowd surges up around him, like

knights shining silver and gold, trumpets and banners and a voice calling, to the prince, to the prince, as the horses scream and die

like waves on breakers, he reaches out, presses the palm of his hand firmly against the man's shoulder. The knit beneath his palm is smooth, and he lets his hand slip a little, so he can feel the friction of the rub and pull. It feels good, like the purr in the back of his throat. Arousal and anxiety are melting through his body.

"Where are we going?" he yells over the thrum of bass and the throb of the crowd. The man looks back over his shoulder, and Arthur watches him touch the corner of his mouth with a black-tipped finger. The man's smile is fast, and Arthur feels the crowd move around him, waves dragging at his limbs.

The destination is the club's bathroom-- the club, too cheap and liberal by half, has one big, gender-blind bathroom, with grimy stalls covered is vomit and piss and semen. The smell of it is almost enough to make Arthur retch, sickness and sex beneath the tang of spilled liquors. There's a line, kohl-eyed girls with tiny handbags and smeared lipstick. The man stops at the end of the line, and Arthur stops with him, standing close enough to rest his arm along the line of man's back. The knit makes the hair on his arm stand on end.

"What?" Arthur asks, like all the night is a question. He still has to yell, the bass of the music and the thud of the dancing hanging heavy even in the bathroom. The man turns halfway around, and the way he moves makes Arthur's arm twist so it's hanging over his shoulder.

"Sex," the man yells back, and the girl in front of them looks at them with sleepy eyes, half a smile. "We're gonna fuck."

"Okay," Arthur says, and he's a little proud with how calm he's feeling. It might be, he thinks, the cocktail running through his blood, but right now, he feels like he can take on anything and be okay. There is something beautifully numbing about all of this, and he focuses his eyes on the collar of the man's shirt. When he touches it with his thumb, the man shudders a little, and it's easy to wait for the line to move like this, rubbing the edge of his thumbnail over the collar, hangnail catching on the man's skin.

Posted by: midnightdiddle (midnightdiddle)
Posted at: July 5th, 2010 05:09 pm (UTC)
zelda navi

The club's too cheap and liberal, so when a stall empties out and the man goes in, pulling Arthur in with him, no one bats an eye. As the door swings shut, Arthur sees a girl watching him through the mirror. He smiles at the door, and watches the man reach a hand around him to lock the door.

"Sit," the man says, pushing Arthur towards the toilet. Arthur looks at it, feels a little sick. He hesitates, then lets the man push him down onto the toilet seat. The floor is sticky and wet, and Arthur feels his feet slide a little. When the warm feeling in his stomach curls lower, he swallows, and feels glad he's sitting.

When the man settles on Arthur's lap, straddling Arthur's legs, Arthur turns his face up for a kiss. Sex in bathrooms isn't really his thing, but the few times he's done it, the kissing has been frantic enough, nasty enough, to justify the smell and the wet, sticky floors. The man's looking back at him, though, four inches that feel like a world in between their mouths, and Arthur can't bridge that gap.

"I," the man says, "have missed you so much," and Arthur can't question the insanity of this. He can only lower his chin to his neck, and watch the man's hands land on his belly, thumbs rubbing in circles, then spreading out. When the man lifts Arthur's shirt, Arthur takes in a breath, lets it out like a waltz. Three beats, and he grabs the man's wrists, holds on. The hands on his stomach are cold, and a fingernail is circling Arthur's bellybutton. The arousal in the pit of his stomach is curling wider, hotter.

"Please," Arthur says. He's too drunk for this, too high for this, and the man laughs like quicksand, his voice sucking in Arthur's everything. He palms Arthur's dick through his trousers, then pulls the belt loose, cracks the snap and zipper in a rush of metal and fabric. The hand on Arthur's dick feels like magic, and Arthur thinks he is losing time, and maybe himself.

"Why?" Arthur asks when he is breathing too fast and is feeling faint and empty. He knows everyone in the bathroom can hear this: the wet, slick sound of his dick in the man's hands, his panting, the way the toilet creaks beneath their combined weight. When he lets his head fall back on the metal wall, he feels the stall shudder.

The man moves his head forward, presses his mouth against Arthur's ear. "My king," he says, and the feel of his tongue makes Arthur shudder. "My king."

When Arthur comes, it's with a dizzy, buzzed feeling. He lets his head fall forward onto the man's shoulder, and when the man pulls back, cleans Arthur up roughly, Arthur looks at the stall door. The club is still beating through Arthur's limbs, a steady march to his chest.

"Now?" Arthur asks, a thousand too many questions, when the man unlocks the door. The smile is as fast as it was a time, or a dozen, ago. The man pulls at his hair with his painted fingernails, shrugs, and looks entirely unremarkable, another too cheap, too liberal kid in this crowded, sticky club.

"I've seen you die too many times," the man says, and Arthur watches

his manservantwizardfriendcompanionknightlovertraitorsaviorbrotherslavegodeverything

him go.

Posted by: until the world goes boom-boom-boom (hiza_chan)
Posted at: July 5th, 2010 10:24 pm (UTC)

Oh god. Oh my god. Just wow- that was everything I wanted and more. I'm just flailing around at a complete loss of words because that was so goddamn brilliant. The memories and drunken Arthur and Merlin. It's such a sad snippet, but amazing as well and just- this is me being incoherent because you kind of blew my mind.

"I've seen you die too many times," the man says, and Arthur watches

his manservantwizardfriendcompanionknightlovertraitorsaviorbrotherslavegodeverything

him go.

So ouch. But so beautiful. This is me hugging you because you are awesome! ♥

Posted by: midnightdiddle (midnightdiddle)
Posted at: July 6th, 2010 08:38 am (UTC)
zelda navi

!!! Thank you! Wow, I'm glad you liked it, because I was like, "oh god, it's gonna be so weird," and I really wanted it to be longer, but it just wasn't getting there, and it was, like, I dunno. And clubs are seedy and (Arthur's) life is shitty and then it just turned into this (hopefully somewhat subtle) angst-fest, and Arthur doesn't really know because he's drunk and kinda stoned. And now I'm just babbling.

aflkj so THANK YOU. I'm very glad you liked it. :D

Posted by: Mako (techiegoat)
Posted at: June 19th, 2010 01:09 am (UTC)

Okay, how about a Kingdom Hearts one where Sora turns into a girl whenever he wields the keyblade? Just a quickie thought. ^_^

Posted by: midnightdiddle (midnightdiddle)
Posted at: July 5th, 2010 03:54 pm (UTC)
flowers cherry blossoms

When Kingdom Hearts explodes, Sora finds himself thrown onto his back, his head cracking against the floor in a way that promises stars in his eyes and a pain in his skull for a few hours at least. He grunts, tries to open his eyes, then realizes he's closing his eyes, and gives it up for a lost cause. He waits a moment, two, and winces. It feels like there's a house sitting on his chest.

Or, when he finally opens his eyes, a much more Riku-like Riku. He's crouched over Sora, kinda like a dog, or a deranged monkey, and it's only when Riku winces beneath a weird blindfold that Sora realizes that Riku was protecting him, and then Sora feels like an ass.

"Riku," he says, and he reaches out for his keyblade at the same time, that familiar little tug at his chest and burn in his palm when it pops into existence. "Riku, let me up--"

Riku looks down at him, or at least, turns his face down towards him, because he's wearing that blindfold thing. He moves, pats his hands against Sora's body like he's making sure Sora's still all in one piece, and Sora sucks in a breath, holds it.


Riku's not one for stuttering, and Sora lets out his breath like an explosion, says, "not now, Riku."

Riku tears off his blindfold (and god, Sora had forgotten how bright his eyes are, like the lagoon on the south side of the island, like all those summer days-- like childhood), and he's not moving off of Sora, is just staring down at Sora like he can't figure out if it really is Sora.

"Riku," Sora says again, "not now. Move."

Riku climbs up off of Sora, holds out a hand to pull Sora up, and Sora makes himself look away so he can smile at Kairi and the King, and Goofy and Donald.

"Now what?" he asks, and the King looks up at the sky, and Sora looks up, too. Watches a thousand million hearts fall from the sky, and tries not to think that he was the one who put them there.

"Now we stop Xemnas," the King says.


Riku isn't really fazed by a lot of things. He's had a pretty crappy few years, what with falling into darkness and more or less selling his soul. Twice. He's learned that Kingdom Hearts is more like Hell than anything else, and he knows-- he's also been to Hell. Hades is pretty much a prick.

All in all, though, Riku's had so much shit happen, and has been beaten, betrayed, and more or less broken so many times that he's sure that nothing can keep himself from standing back up, dusting himself off, and moving on without a second thought. Or a doubt. Or, like, being fazed by anything.

Except-- Well, Riku was also pretty sure that Sora, his best friend since forever, was a boy.

Actually, he is sure, because he can remember when he was six and Sora was five and they played a game of "I'll show you mine if you show me yours." And he remembers skinny-dipping in the lagoon on the south side of the island, where the water was that bright blue-green that always made him think of lime jellybeans.

So when he feels Sora up, just to make sure that Sora's alive, and real, and not bleeding to death beneath that ugly red shirt (because if Sora died now, when they were so fucking close to getting home, Riku would make this fucking world burn), he's kinda, well, fazed to feel breasts. Boobs. Tits.

Sora is supposed to be a boy, and Riku knows that only girls have tits, because Riku is a teenage boy who once fell into darkness, and he's had the chance for a lot of experimentation.

When they leave Maleficent and Pete fighting the flood of Heartless, Riku has to lean against a wall and take a few deep breaths, because Sora has tits, which means Sora's a girl, which means--

"Riku?" Sora asks, and he's a full head shorter than Riku, just an inch or two taller than Kairi. Riku looks down at him, takes another deep breath, and says, "I'm fine."

"Right," Sora says, and he punches Riku on the arm. Riku tries to grab Sora's hand, but Sora's already running to catch up with the King and the others. Riku breathes out, slowly, and wonders if all his childhood, with a boy named Sora, is another fake memory, spun in his head while he was sleeping in the darkness.

Posted by: until the world goes boom-boom-boom (hiza_chan)
Posted at: July 5th, 2010 10:30 pm (UTC)
[Riku&Sora] Surprise hug~

Oh wow, this was wonderful. When I first saw the prompt I figured it would be cracky, but this is pleasantly... not cracky. And the end, about him wondering if it's all just another fake memory? Ouch. Sora, please explain to Riku before he has another episode. I'm really glad you did this in Sora and Riku's point of view.

(because if Sora died now, when they were so fucking close to getting home, Riku would make this fucking world burn)

Love that line.

Posted by: midnightdiddle (midnightdiddle)
Posted at: July 6th, 2010 08:39 am (UTC)
zelda navi

haha, it was, like, gonna be more cracky, but then it would've just been weird cracked-out porn, and so I sorta made myself stop writing. D: I think I do that a lot.

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