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Sooooooooo. Like. I've done several of those "GIVE ME [XXXXXX] KIND OF PROMPTS" posts recently. Four, actually, unless I totally missed something, which is entirely possible.
Some of these I'm forced to default on -- if you know you asked for something and I didn't come through, I apologize profusely -- feel free to hit me with a new challenge, and I'll do it! Ou! Fight on, fight on, me!
Thus begins the gigantic FICBIT DUMP OF DOOOOOOOOOOM.
(SO I WROTE KOISURU BOUKUN FIC AFTER ALL. It ... was kind of fun. Damnit. D:)
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"Missing Scene" scenarios -- give me something I've written, and I'll write an alternate/extra scene for it. Also, just whatever you feel like hitting me with. XD
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gisho: tactics CHEESY REINCARNATION AU, Haruka and Kagura and the bells.
"No," Kagura says.
Haruka blinks at her. In his hand, the string of bells shivers a frission of sound, even though he holds completely still. "No?"
She close her book and shakes her head. The wry quirk of her mouth isn't quite a smile, but her eyes are gentle when she reaches out and covers his hand with both of her own. "I don't want them," she said. "He gave them to you, didn't he?"
"But you're him." Haruka's brow furrows. "So--"
"I'm also not him," she says. "And they were given away. Are you saying you don't like the gift?"
Haruka blinks again. He looks at their hands: hers are small in comparison to his (like before, like long ago), but strong enough to keep him in place for the moment. Kagura presses, and he lets her close his fingers over the bells again.
"It's not that I don't like them," he says finally. "But it doesn't belong to me. I was keeping them until ..."
"You can keep them forever, if you like." She smiles and tugs at his hand -- not so much to draw him close as to pull herself to her feet, awkward with her swelling belly. She kisses his knuckles. "As long as you have them, how can I not find you again?"
His eyes widen. "Kagura--"
"No matter how much I change, I'm still myself, right? And whoever I am in the next life ... I'm sure that person will love you too." She presses her cheek to his hand, still smiling. "Keep them, Haruka, okay? So I'll be able to find you again."
The breath hisses out slowly through his teeth. Slowly he bends, until his forehead is against hers. When she lets go of his hand, he slides the bells back onto his wrist again.
"You'd better," he says, and they both pretend there's nothing rough at all in his voice. "I'll be waiting."
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ibythetide: Koisuru Boukun, Tatsumi trying to do something nice (?!?!) for Morinaga
The day of his thesis defense is a bright and sunny one. Morinaga wakes from a fitful sleep and dresses carefully as he can -- a new suit that cost more than he really wants to think about, and his hair damply combed into a semblance of order. He keeps his notes tucked under an arm, reshuffling and straightening them compulsively as he makes his way to the office building. He almost passes the man who's standing at the bottom of the stairs, then staggers when something smacks the back of his head, hard.
Morinaga turns and sees a (decently-sized, actually) rock wrapped with something. He bends and picks it up, unwrapping it carefully.
Written on it is the phrase, "For good fortune on this day."
He looks up and meets a full-fledged scowl from his senpai -- slightly redirected, but still absolutely familiar. In spite of himself he smiles as he trots over, still holding onto the charm. "Senpai!" he says. "Ah, did you come here to cheer me on? Ehehehe, that's so--"
"Keh!" Tatsumi snorts. "Like I'd waste my time doing that."
"But ..." Morinaga blinks. "You're here, aren't you?"
"I just happened to be walking by!" Tatsumi scowls. "It's just coincidence that I'm here. Coincidence. Don't get so excited."
"Senpai ... " Morinaga blinks. He looks at the charm he's holding, then holds it up. "This is--"
The glare Tatsumi levels at a nearby tree was almost enough to make it spontaneously combust; a cluster of girls passing by take one terrified look at skitter quickly out of his line of sight. "What does it LOOK like? Idiot."
"A ..." Morinaga turns it over slowly with his fingertips, half-afraid it's going to fall apart. Actually, knowing his senpai, he thinks he should be more suspicious on whether there's poison laced on the edges. "A good-luck charm?"
"OF COURSE IT'S A GOOD-LUCK CHARM, YOU BLIND FOOL." Tatsumi puffs himself up the whole way, his expression thunderous. "WHAT DID YOU EXPECT, YOU--"
"You got this for me?" Morinaga doesn't think his eyes could get any wider -- they're actually beginning to hurt a bit from staring. "Senpai ..."
"OF COURSE NOT!" Tatsumi bellows. "WHY WOULD I BUY SOMETHING FOR AN IDIOT PERVERT HOMO--"
"Eh?" Morinaga squints at the charm. After a moment, he feels the absolute stillness of shock settle over him, which lets him look up at Tatsumi's red face without actually exploding.
"Senpai ... don't tell me that you --"
A vein ticcs in Tatsumi's forehead. The light pings off his glasses for a moment, rendering his eyes invisible. "What about it."
"--you ... made this?" Morinaga holds up the small good-luck charm. "This is your handwriti--gggghk."
Tatsumi keeps shaking him hard for a few moments, making sputtering furious noises that aren't actually a denial. When he glances up, he apparently sees something in Morinaga's expression that makes him shove back, hard, and his blush has moved all the way down his neck, disappearing into his shirt.
"You did," Morinaga breathes. "Senpai, for me, you--"
"It's not like I'd do something like that for a pervert like you," Tatsumi hisses. "Why'd I waste my time doing something like that! It's just a fucking thesis defense! I've got more important things with my time than something pointless like that--"
Morinaga throws his arms around his senpai, squeezing hard as he can. There's a long outraged string of muffled curses into his as Tatsumi immediately begins to squirm, clawing and shoving for freedom. He ignores it, pressing his nose into Tatsumi's hair and breathing deep; all impending doom seems to have fallen away (though he knows that he's probably going to get a beating as soon as he loosens his arms just a little). "Thank you," he says, pretty sure that Tatsumi misses it in his struggling.
Or maybe not, because for a moment Tatsumi pauses, still with his face in Morinaga's shoulder. It's just a moment -- less than ten seconds -- but it's there, it's there and even though Tatsumi punctuates its end by twisting and yowling like an outraged cat, Morinaga knows it was there.
He goes into the defense with a fresh bruise red on his cheek, a smile he can't stop, and a small handmade good-luck charm tucked into his jeans pocket.
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rivendellrose: Doctor Who, from our fandom discussions about the Doctor's wife (assumes Susan is his biological granddaughter)
She hears about her granddaughter's disappearence from her own daughter, and spends the rest of the day preparing.
They come to her in full ceremonial garb, and their headdresses hardly fit through her door. She serves them tea and sits with her hands folded calmly in her lap. They cannot cow her, though the youngest is over half and again her age, and together they have the power to force a regeneration, to give more lives, and a hundred thousand other possibilities.
She is a daughter of Gallifrey, she is a Time Lady, she is not afraid.
"Do you know what he's done?" their spokesman asks. Appearence-wise he's the eldest of the group, but his small dark eyes are bright as stars in his wrinkled face. "Your husband?"
Without blinking, she regards him evenly. "What he does is his own business," she says. "What I do is mine. If he's done something, that's his choice."
And there's the crux of it: they ask her a thousand other questions, all subtle variations of the same core inquiry, but she doesn't sway from her path. Her path diverged from her husband's long ago -- she hasn't seen him in nearly a standard Gallifreyan year -- but there is still something that ties and draws her to him, unable to turn aside.
If she could afford it, she'd smile: that stupid, stupid man, always getting into trouble and expecting her to cover up for those messes ...
Well, with good reason. She drinks her tea and answers without fear, and she holds his face in her mind; later, she'll pour a cup that will go cold and stale without being touched, and she'll wish him luck.
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hiza_chan: Alexverse, Sora and Alex talk about Axel.
"What I don't get," Sora says, "is why."
Alex pauses and straightens up from the balcony he was leaning against. At his full height, even with the growth spurt, he's taller than Sora by a good foot. His expression is completely and utterly sincere, green eyes wide and brows drawn together. "Well," he says, "sometimes a man loves another man very much and--"
In his head Sora hears Roxas snort; he rolls his eyes for both of them. "I meant -- why choose to die? You could open portals even Betwixt and Between, couldn't you? You could have gotten yourself out, or maybe redirected them--"
He expects another glib answer. What he sees, instead, is a brief strange gleam in Alex's eyes before he turns away, hunches again to rest his elbows on the balcony. His expression is too-casual, one that Roxas recognzes as gearing up for avoidance, as he looks out upon the waves and doesn't see them at all.
"We were on a tight schedule," Alex says. He waves a dismissive hand. "You had to go find Kairi, didn't you? Didn't have the time to cut through that many Nobodies."
"That's a lot to do for a girl you helped kidnap," Sora says. It's not quite kind, but it's a question Roxas won't ask -- because Axel apologized, but he still ...
Alex fixes him with an unreadable expression. Long seconds tick past and he doesn't blink once. "But not for someone who makes you feel like you still have a heart," he says. He reaches out and flicks his index finger against Sora's forehead; Roxas is the one who feels it burn. "Didn't I say that?"
Sora rubs his forehead. He opens his mouth and Roxas says, "You're an idiot." They both reach out and take fistfuls of Alex's shirt, pulling him up and closer; in his head Sora feels a gentle nudge, and steps back to let Roxas take the front. "You're such an idiot."
For a moment Alex looks surprised -- but soon enough his expression relaxes back into that same opaque look. He covers Roxas' hands with his own and shakes his head.
"Maybe," he says. "I still did it without regrets."
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zinjadu: THE TIMES AND TRIALS OF A TEENAGED SUPERVILLAIN. Yeaaaah.
They stood exactly ten paces apart, facing each other. The rest of the schoolyard had emptied out quickly, though students continued to peek around corners, watching. A dusty wind blew loose papers between the two boys.
"So," said the first one. He held a remote control with a single large red button in one hand. "We meet at last."
The other shrugged, scratching the back of his head. "Guess so," he said. He looked at the remote. "You can't use that here."
"Oh yeah?" The first boy grinned widely. A mad gleam sparkled in his eyes that would have done his mother proud. "Who's gonna stop me?"
"Me," said the second.
They stared intensely at each other. More wind blew between them, and clouds rolled back in the sky, leaving them both highlighted in midafternoon sun. A passing truck provided a brief guitar riff from its radio.
From around the corner, Misty watched, twirling some hair around one finger. She elbowed her friend, peeking over her shoulder. "Hey," she whispered, "d'you think they're gonna fight or do each other?"
Alison stared at her. "Ewwwww," she said.
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Drabble Post -- drabbles because I made 250 friends-of! Also includes random porn.
blizzard4526: Guren/Masahiro [Shounen Onmyouji]
Guren is always excruciatingly careful with his claws: he remembers, all too well, how easily they punched through human flesh, and how bright the blood looked on the snow. He remembers and repents by care, using his knuckles to trace down the length of Masahiro's body, by keeping his fangs robed by his lips, by keeping his weight braced on his elbows.
But Masahiro objects; he grabs Guren's shoulders and drags him down hard, he forces Guren's fingers flat so they can clasp hands, he kisses and presses and pleads until, helpless and in love, Guren bows to his will.
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yhibiki: Raikou/Kantarou, with jealous!Haruka [tactics]
"Well," Youko says, morose, "he's rich, at least."
Haruka shoots her a deadly glare. "That," he says through his teeth, "isn't the point."
"I thought so," Youko sighs. "I thought it was 'ah, he's rich, and Kan-chan can bring home snacks from this party! Haruka-chan is being unreasonable."
He growls. "I'm being unreasonable. He's the one hanging all over that -- that man like. Like. Like that."
Youko's eyebrows rise. Wisely, she says nothing, and Haruka goes back to fuming as they peek through the windows of the Minamoto estate, and watch Raikou pour more wine, and Kantarou laughing as he drinks.
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rahzel: Doumeki/Watanuki [xxxHOLiC]
It would be cliche to say that Watanuki looks younger when he sleeps, and also a lie. He looks more peaceful, though, and perhaps that's where someone might get confused. He sleeps lightly even drunk; every small creak and groan of the house settling has his eyes fluttering sightlessly open before falling shut again. He breathes through his open mouth, almost snoring. His sake cup, tumbled loosely from his hand, dribbles on the floor.
Doumeki's own cup is not yet empty, but he balances it on his finger without drinking. He watches the moon pass shadows over Watanuki's face instead.
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moonsheen: Amaterasu/Ushiwaka [Okami]
He writes a poem that compares the arch of her throat to snow and her sleeves to flowing water, and reads it aloud nervously as she lounges alongside him.
"Hm," she says and tilts her head. Her smile is wolfish. "Are all of your tribe such flatterers?."
Mortified, he crumples up the scroll. He wants to flee before she actually laughs; his face is so hot it hurts. "My lady," he stammers, "Mother Amaterasu--"
She reaches up and touches his cheek with cool fingers. "Hush," she says, and her mouth is upon his. "I did not say I disliked it."
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rivendellrose: TARDIS/Doctor [Doctor Who]
In all her many years, she's never been confined this way.
Her chamelon chip allowed for so much freedom, but never anything like this -- this tiny human shell, so fragile and assured of its importance, reaching into her heart as though to tear the power from her. She allows it, because there's no time, not now, not for him, and back they go: she is a wolf on the hunt, following his blood on the wind.
My Doctor, the little human girl's lips say, but it's her will that propels them, her love that will bring him home.
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vikki: Allen Walker [D.Gray-man]
Allen's first memories aren't a mother's voice or a father's hand -- it's of gaslights and staring worn faces as girls sang and clowns tumbled in choregraphed coordination across the rickety stage. There's the memory of sitting on Mana's shoulders and staring in amazement at how many people there were, the hungry and the dirty and the tired briefly drawn into the strange glittering world crafted of old costumes and peeling sets. He remembers his own place among them, petted for his cute face and slipped an extra tear of bread when the money was especially good.
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CROSSOVERS -- BECAUSE I LIKE THEM, OKAY? OKAY.
torsui: GetBackers/tactics
Maria Noches sits on her porch with her feet crossed at the ankles and pours enough tea for two.
The moon is already setting when the fox comes slinking out of the shadows, picking her way delicately across the yard. There's a smudge of soot on her cheek that remains even when her form reshapes itself; she wipes it away with the sleeve of her kimono before she comes and sits down. Her feet are bare and her clothes have seen better days, but she moves with a confidence in her own skin. She takes up the second teacup and drinks in silence.
Eventually, she says, "I found him again."
Maria glances aside at the fox and then pulls a card from her sleeve. She turns it to look at its face, then smiles. "I see," she says. "I bet he gave you a hard time, didn't he."
The fox laughs, which actually sounds more like crying; she pauses to dab the corner of her eyes. "He did," she says. "I don't think he wanted to be found. After Kan-chan ... after Kan-chan, he just disappeared. I thought maybe he went back to the place where he'd been sealed, or ..." She takes a deep breath. "Or maybe to the mountains, but he wasn't there, either." She bends down over her cup for a moment, and her hair falls forward to hide her face. "He wasn't anywhere."
"Their sort are difficult to track down, when they want to be." Maria turns the card a few times, then shows it to the fox. "Does he really look anything like this?"
The fox peers at the card and laughs again; it sounds more genuine now. "Oh, no," she says. "Haruka-chan -- I mean, the Oni-Eater, no. He's very handsome, actually. Ah, there was once where we met a traditional-looking tengu, and he was so offended! Kan-chan teased him for weeks ..." Her voice cracks again. This time, Maria produces a handkerchief, which she gives to the fox without a word; the fox takes it and scrubs her face.
"I'm sorry," she apologizes, after a moment. "It was just so strange to see him again -- he's working, of all things! The Oni-Eater, working! Ahh, Kan-chan would just have a fit, wouldn't he ..."
"Time changes everyone, after all," Maria says. She draws a second card and studies it, then tucks it away again. "Even those of us who seem to be utterly set in stone." She reaches to refill both their cups.
"Ah," the fox says, "but he's not in stone any more. He was for a long time, but not any more." The fingers of her free hand twist in her sleeve, tight enough that her knuckles turn white. "I was, too. I didn't really think I had, but then -- suddenly, I was alone." She closes her eyes and takes a slow breath. "I was alone, and I didn't know what else to do except--"
She draws a third card, and this she takes and she presses into the fox's hand. "You're all right," she says gently. "You'll be okay. See?"
The fox looks and chokes on another half-laugh. "Oh," she says. "Oh, that's ..."
"I think," says Maria, "that if you wait long enough, you'll even see the other one then." She winks then, cutely as any young woman might. "I'm a witch, after all. I know these things."
The fox wipes her eyes again and beams. "You are, aren't you," she says. "Ah, it's been a long time since a human's seen me for what I am."
Maria takes the handkerchief back and uses it to wipe the last bits of soot from the fox's cheek. "You'll have to go back to having a name, won't you," she says gently. "Are you ready for that?"
The fox twists her fingers in her sleeves again, and she takes a deep breath. She smiles.
"I am," she says.
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lazulisong: xxxHOLiC/Kingdom Hearts
Witches do not generally like to meet each other: they are more territorial than wolves and they fight with things far more terrible than fangs or claws. They remember more clearly than most, and more jealously than not. A witch, if she can, will not suffer her sister to live.
A witch, however, is also a shrewd creature. She knows how to pick her battles.
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"Watanuki," Yuuko says. She's draped artfully over her divan, one arm over her eyes, and her sleeves are long enough to flow across the floor. "Do you know what the worth of a heart is?"
"... Hahh?" He pauses in the middle of dusting to look at her. "Yuuko-san?"
She smiles faintly. "Do you know what a heart is worth?"
He tilts his head. "It's ... sort of priceless, isn't it?" he offers hesitantly. "Because that's where your memories are kept, right? So--"
Yuuko lifts a finger and traces a lazy pattern in the air above her head. "It's a precious thing," she says. "Even if you don't value it yourself."
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"I want to become stronger," says the girl on the shop's doorstep. Her coarse dark hair is in braids, her dark eyes are hard and arrogant. If you look very carefully, there is the faintest, skeletal hinting of gossamer wings sprouting from her back -- but they're stunted and fragile, not enough to carry any weight. "I'm tired of being so weak. I know I have strength within me, and I want to obtain that."
Yuuko exhales; the girl doesn't even flinch at the smoke in her eyes. "There's a price," she says.
"I don't care," the girl says. "I want to be stronger."
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"Is it like a soul, then? A 'heart'?" Watanuki offers after a moment. His voice is nervous. "Yuuko-san, you once said -- even if someone doesn't have a soul, they can keep on living, so ..."
"Hearts and souls are very similiar," Yuuko agrees. She moves her arm enough that she can look up at him. She smiles slowly. "Both are terrible things to lose."
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"It doesn't work quite that easily," Yuuko tells the girl. "I can show you the way, but if you want the strength, you'll have to obtain it yourself."
The girl nods. Her expression is flinty, her lips pinched. "I will become stronger," she says, more to herself than to Yuuko. "I won't be ignored any more."
Yuuko gives the girl her instructions, exactingly specific, then watches her leave, shedding a thousand possible futures as she goes. Already there is one thread that is stronger than the others, portents of a terrible darkness to come.
But it's already too late, she knows: a new set of stones has already begun to tumble into freefall.
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"What happens, then?" Watanuki asks; his voice is reluctantly curious, like it's an answer he wants to know, but is afraid of hearing. "If you lose your heart?"
"What inevitably must," Yuuko says. She stretches her one hand up, so that her sleeve slides down to pool at her shoulder, and spreads her fingers wide.
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When they meet again, the girl that was a fairy has become a woman who is a witch. She keeps her hair under a severe headdress and her skin is now the color of bone, but her dark eyes are still hard and arrogant. She walks with the same determination, and with a confidence born from years. Darkness cloaks her with comfort, settled around her narrow shoulders like a smug cat, flaring out to suggest wings far greater than her weak gossamer limbs could have ever dreamed of becoming.
She stops when she sees Yuuko. "I've already paid my price," she says. "I won't pay more."
"Of course not," Yuuko says. "I wouldn't dream of asking it." She looks around, at the dark cold of a world that no longer has a heart, then looks back at the witch. "Have you become strong, then?"
Green fire flares at the head of the witch's staff, and she smiles thinly. "Stronger than you would believe," she says -- but she does not follow up on her threat, just stands and stares at Yuuko. "And I would not trade that for anything."
Yuuko inclines her head. On a chain around her neck, a small glowing red crystal flickers weakly, then goes dark.
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"It seems like a bad idea," Watanuki says. "Giving up your heart for anything."
"The worst of ideas," Yuuko agrees. She settles her hand to her throat, covering her necklace with her palm. "But it's still a choice, and still one you can freely make."
Watanuki considers this. "A bad idea," he repeats, and goes back to dusting.
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chibimazoku: Yami no Matsuei/Shounen Onmyouji
Wakana opened her eyes and drew in a breath of shock at the simple lack of pain.
The heaviness that had plagued her body for months had melted away entirely, the weakness that had confined her to bed turned back into strength. For a moment relief made her giddy, and she wanted to toss off her blankets and run down the hallways, no mater that she was dressed only in a thin yukata; she wanted to run and remember how it felt to move, she wanted to find her husband and see his face changed as he realized she was no longer--
A polite cough interrupted her thoughts.
"My lady," a woman's voice said softly, politely, and it did not sound like any of the Shinsou. "It's time to go."
And just like that, as quickly as it had come, her joy sloughed off into growing dread. She turned slowly, holding her breath, as though denying that would deny everything else.
A woman knelt, seiza-position, in the doorway. She kept her hands folded in her lap, but she met Wakana's eyes without flinching. She was dressed simply, all in black, and there was pity in the line of her mouth, in her solemn dark gaze. "It's time to go," she said again.
Wakana closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, she turned and looked at herself; she looked old, she thought, old and still terribly in pain, even with the new slackness of her features. And while vanity had never been something that troubled her, she wanted suddenly to reach out and smooth her own features, because certainly her husband would be returning to her side soon; this was not the last face of hers she wanted him to see.
She reached out, and her hand passed through herself like smoke.
"Already," she murmured. "I hadn't realized ..."
"We should go," the woman said gently. "There's a protocol to follow, and you can't be allowed to stay here. Too many people could see you. The dead are meant for another place." She rose to her feet and smoothed the folds of her kimono with a practiced grace. "Come, Wakana-sama."
Wakana said nothing, but rose as well. She could hear footsteps in the hallway: her husband returning, then, and ah, the timing had to be such ...
"I was happy," she said softly, to herself and the room. "I was so happy to have met you."
"Wakana-sama," the woman said again, and she turned to go.
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Seimei paused with his hand on the screen.
Behind him, Guren shifted his weight a little, though he waited half a minute before saying, "Seimei?"
Seimei closed his eyes and leaned to rest his forehead against the shouji. His shoulders shook once. Alarmed, Guren started forward, then froze with his hand hovering just above Seimei's back. The presence was faint, and growing weaker with each moment, but--
Shinigami, he thought but did not say; instead he spoke his master's name, then started forward when Seimei's knees buckled, catching him before he could simply fold to the ground. There was a sudden weakness to him, fragile enough that a breath might be enough to shatter him. Guren opened his mouth, then decided against speaking, keeping Seimei upright as the first hoarse sob came.
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inarticulate: Shounen Onmyouji/tactics
"Ah, Masahiro!" Tsuyuki smiled. "Welcome home."
Masahiro paused in the act of removing the tate-eboshi. "Ah, Mother? Is something wrong?"
Tsuyuki covered her mouth with a sleeve for a moment. "Well," she said. "The truth is, your grandfather is recieving a guest," she said. "He requested you come sit in once you arrived home."
"A guest? Me?" Masahiro pointed, surprised. "Do you know who it is?"
"Well," said Tsuyuki. "You should go yourself and see." She reached out, ostensibly straightening his clothes and smoothing his hair, then smiled. "Go on, then."
He nodded, tucking the tate-eboshi under his arm and readjusting his ponytail as he went. At the door of his grandfather's study, he knelt down; Mokkun leapt from his shoulder to sit beside him. "Grandfather, I've returned home."
"Ohh, Masahiro." There was a rustle from the other side of the screen. "Come in, come in."
"Thank you," he said politely, and straightened to slide the door open. Inside, his grandfather was seated normally, across from a young man dressed in full court attire, who sat with a sword laid across his eyes.
"Masahiro, come here." Seimei waved, his expression oddly serious. "Close the door behind you."
He scooted inside, waiting long enough for Mokkun to slip in after him before doing as he was told. "Grandfather?"
"Listen well, Masahiro," Seimei told him. "Do you know who this person is?"
Masahiro blinked, then turned to look. The stranger smiled at him politely, and though his face was the soft oval so popular among the rich, his hands were knotted and callused, and there was a confident laziness to his posture that Masahiro recognized from most of the Shinsou. "... Ah," he said hesitantly. "I'm very sorry, I don't--"
"That's fine," the stranger said, his voice pleasant. "I've been away for a long time, I would be surprised if you knew my name."
"Masahiro," Seimei said. "This person is Minamoto no Raikou-sama. I trust you know who that is?"
He just managed to hold back a yelp of surprise, turning and bowing awkwardly. "Ah," he said. "My humblest apologies, I didn't realize--"
"No, no," Minamoto laughed, waving a hand. "It's fine, Abe no Masahiro-dono. I am currently a guest in your house, after all." He smiled pleasantly, though his eyes traveled past Masahiro's sohulder, for a moment looking straight at Mokkun. "It's not on official business, you needn't be so formal."
"Eh, but that's ..." Masahiro swallowed and sat up in slow degrees. "Raikou-sama ..."
"To be honest, this is something that Michinaga-sama has tried to dissaude me from, many times," he said, then chuckled wryly, as though defying the Minister of the Left was no great affair. "But it's something that I want very much to do, no matter what." He turned to Seimei. "I hoped that the famed Abe no Seimei would be able to help me find what I'm looking for."
"Looking for ... ?" Masahiro echoed.
"I'm searching for a particular youkai," said Minamoto. "A tengu, in fact."
"Tengu?" Masahiro blinked. "They prefer the mountains, don't they? But why would you--"
"This particular tengu is special," Minamoto said; his fists clenched over his sword, knuckles turning white. Something in his expression changed, a hungry light flaring to life in his eyes. "So powerful that even the great Shuten Douji fears him, far stronger than any other youkai who's lived." Again, he looked straight at Mokkun, though his expression didn't change, like he saw nothing at all. "A tengu whose preferred meal are the hearts of oni. An oni-eater, if you will."
Masahiro said nothing. Beside him, Mokkun sat tense and still as stone.
After a moment, Seimei sighed. "But this is a creature that only preys upon oni," he said. "He doesn't care for humans, does he?"
"They say he'll fight anyone who challenges him." Minamoto's eyes continued to gleam. "No matter who, if you call for him, he'll come fight. I want to fight him -- with this sword, with this Doujikiriyasuna--"
"But he doesn't seek these out himself," Seimei said, and shook his head. "I'm afraid, Raikou-sama, I must refuse."
Minamoto seemed genuinely surprised by this, though he recovered fast. "Seimei-sama," he protested. "Please, you're the only one--"
"I'm afraid I cannot condone that sort of violence," Seimei said firmly. "I apologize that you had to waste your time, Raikou-sama, but there's nothing I can do for you."
For a moment, Masahiro thought that Minamoto would continue to protest; his hands gripped the sword so tightly they trembled. The intent for a fight poured off him so strongly that it was nearly stifling, and Masahiro wondered how many of the other Shinsou were close by, just in case.
But then the light in Minamoto's eyes went out, and he was suddenly again just a pleasant-faced, smiling young man. "Well," he said. "That's too bad, then." He got to his feet and bowed low, first to Seimei, then to Masahiro. "I apologize for wasting your time, then. I shall see myself out." He paused then, then bowed a third time -- now to Mokkun, whose ears rose slightly. "And to you," he said. "I don't know which one you are, but I'm honored to have an audience with one of the famous Twelve Shinsou."
Mokkun stared hard and didn't answer. Minamoto straightened and smiled. "I'd like to fight you too, someday," he said. "If you're interested, I'm easy enough to find."
Then he was gone, and Masahiro let out an explosive breath. He turned to Seimei, brow furrowed. "Grandfather--"
"Don't worry, Masahiro." Seimei sighed, and for a moment he looked terribly old, fragile in a way that was terrifying to see. "The tengu he's looking for already no longer exists in this world."
"--Eh?" Masahiro's eyes widened. "You mean he's--"
"Named," Seimei said, his tone succinct. "It's already too late for that." He sighed. "Once a youkai is named, there's no real going back ..." For a moment he seemed to be brooding, then shook himself, and the moment before was gone, like nothing more than a bad dream. "So, Masahiro! You should be careful about the names you use. They have a meaning to them."
"That's right," Mokkun said at last. "So you should stop calling me 'mononoke, mononoke,' Seimei's grandson."
A vein ticced in Masahiro's temple. "Don't call me 'grandson,' mononoke no Mokkun!"
"You too! Stop calling me 'Mokkun,' I have a name--"
"Mokkun! Mokkun! I told you before, in that form, you're Mokkun!"
"Would you cut out the 'Mokkun,' grandson!"
"DON'T CALL ME GRANDSON--"
Seimei chuckled and leaned back against his writing desk, fanning himself. There'd been more to his divination, more he could've said about the nature of names and the relationship between the named and the namer, but -- that would make things too easy, wouldn't it?
He'd let them figure it out on their own.
++++++++++
zinjadu: D.Gray-man/Firefly
when she was younger someone sang to her, not her mother (o never her mother, her mother was too busy with glittering parties and sparkling people), not her father (never her father, never her father with his narrow thin smile and his loaded generousity), maybe her brother, her brother might have sung to her and taken care of her, because he took care of her, that was what he did he took care of her he--
sang songs about the things that lived in the shadows and wanted to eat little girls, their soft sweet faces and sugary bodies, things that had sharp teeth and knifelike smiles and never looked the same way twice, things that would eat girls so easily
but she thinks ah, i am changed into something no longer a girl, i have something inside me that should not be here. what am i what have i become. they would not want to eat me.
they would not want to touch me.
+++
"River?" Kaylee looked up from her examination of a blanket. "River, honey, what's wrong?"
Without answering, River got to her feet and began to weave her way across the store, towards where a blonde woman was speaking to the shopkeeper. She watched a space just above the woman's left shoulder, cocking and uncocking her head like a bird.
"River!" Kaylee stuffed the blanket back, hasty. "River, wait--"
+++
i know you, she whispers but without her voice, without herself, she stares and stares even as it makes her stomach twist and twist, and she wonders if maybe it'll explode, if it is wrapped too tightly.
the thing sees her. they look at each other.
i know you, she says.
and i know you, it says.
+++
Kaylee hurried up and caught River's arm, pulling the girl back. She smiled politely at the other woman, who seemed to be more confused than anything else under the weight of River's unblinking stare.
"I'm awfully sorry," Kaylee said. "I hope she didn't bother you, she--"
"Ah," River whispers, contorting her mouth to fit the shape. "Ahhhhhh."
"River!" Kaylee whispers; the girl is trembling in her arms. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry--"
"Oh, no," the woman says, and fixes her eyes on River's pale face, and for a moment Kaylee herself felt awful skeevy, like she was bein' looked straight through. Something wasn't quite right about that smile either; it had too many teeth, or it was too wide for the woman's face. "No, it's quite all right." She reached out, stiffly, and patted River's head.
"Ahhhk," River whispered.
"Well," Kaylee said, uncomfortable, and tugged again. "If, if there's nothing else, then we'll go ahead and -- River, meimei, come on--"
They left the store; Kaylee glanced back once and saw the woman staring after them, and maybe she was just heat-dazed or something, but it seemed the woman's smile was wide enough to split her head in two.
+++
i am not real, you know, she says to the creature. and neither are you.
the creature does not say anything, but its dark eyes frown and its shadowy fingers clench and writhe and it wants to spread its wings, it wants to break free and eat everyone, her and others and so much more, but she's poison.
she's poison, and it knows this; she is a not-real thing, and it is a not-real thing, and if they come together, she knows, oh, they'd suck each other to the marrow till there was nothing left.
i am not real, she says, i am a girl who is no longer a girl, and i know what you are.
a-ku-ma.
++++++++++
lithele: Princess Tutu/Ouran Host Club
"Kyouya!" Tamaki barelled into the room, brandishing a book over his head. "I've just had a marvelous idea!"
Kyouya didn't even look up from his computer. "If it's about the jungle safari, it'll have to wait; we have to wait for permission from the student council before we commander the third rose garden again--"
"No, no, better! Better!" Tamaki bounded over to Kyouya's side and slapped the book down onto the table, hard enough to make the teacups rattle. "Look at this!" He waited for a moment, sparkling expectantly; when Kyouya just blinked at him, glases opaque, Tamaki grabbed it back and began to flip through, stopping at an apparently random point and shoving it into Kyouya's face. "Look at this, look! Isn't it wonderful?"
Kyouya pushed the book back and adjusted his glasses. He took the book from Tamaki, closing it to look at the cover. "'The Prince and the Raven'?" he said. "What's this, then?"
"A wonderful story!" Tamaki spun on his heel, striking a dramatic pose: a hand over his heart and the other flung out, his face tipped heavenwards. "A story of tragedy and triumph, where a noble prince fights against a monstrous raven, only to lose his heart and! Be saved by a princess! It's a fairytale, see! And it'd be wonderful--"
"It's a bit more elaborate than our usual themes," Kyouya said. He skimmed briefly. "Studies indicate that most of our clientele only enjoy tragedies if they're guarenteed of a happy ending."
"Of course!" Tamaki pointed at Kyouya. "It will be the love of a princess that saves the prince from his heartless state! We shall all be princes, learning to feel again due to the kind hearts of the women who weep for us! Ahhh, how lovely it would be!" He pressed the back of a wrist to his forehead, fluttering in a half-swoon. "Think of it, Kyouya! Wouldn't it be wonderful!"
"A story like this needs a villain to be properly effective," Kyouya said. "We'd need at least one Raven."
"A raven prince!" Tamaki cried. "Ahh, one who might be led from the darkness by the gentle heart of a princess! The very sound of it has a romantic ring--"
Kyouya sighed, putting the book down. "Tamaki," he said. "Did you even read the whole thing?"
"Of course," Tamaki protested. He threw himself into the chair opposite Kyouya and leaned forward, eyes wide and sparkling. "Say we can do this, Kyouya! We already have some pieces for a prince costume, and ah, maybe we could have Haruhi be a princess as well, she'd look lovely in white and gold--"
"Tamaki," Kyouya said, "the prince and the princess don't end up together at the end of the story."
"--and we've those wigs, we can do some nice things with it so that she's got curls and -- hah?"
"They don't end up together." Kyouya sat up a little, the light pinging to hide his eyes behind his glasses. "In fact, the princess turns into a bird and spends her life at the side of the knight. The prince leaves with the raven-girl, not the princess."
"Eh ... that can't be ..." Tamaki's face fell. "But the prince and the princess always--"
"Not always," Kyouya said. He waited as Tamaki's head fell forward and stormclouds began to gather above them before he added, "Though, I suppose, it's not the first time we've rewritten things to suit our purposes."
Lightning sparked briefly in the clouds above Tamaki.
"I suppose this means I should be a raven," he mused, then reached over with the book, tapping Tamaki smartly on the head with it. "See if you can get the twins' mother to mock up designs for us."
And just like that, the clouds rolled back and Tamaki's head snapped up again, his smile blinding. He caught Kyouya's hands and pumped it enthusiastically.
"It'll be wonderful!" he said. "You'll see, we'll make it something truly beautiful, ah, it'll be hard to outdo ourselves after this! You won't regret it, Kyouya!" He whipped out his cellphone and launched himself into an excited pace across the music room, already launching into a list of things they would need, modifications that would need to be made for the room, and more ideas for Haruhi's eventual costume.
Kyouya sighed, watching, and went back to work.
++++++++++
awillowweeping: Kingdom Hearts/Secret of NIMH
The worst part about the whole thing were the ears: it felt like he could hear everything now, even the stuff he'd really rather not. Every branch rustling and twig snapping seems about fifty times louder than it really needed to be.
The tail was a bit weird too, but at least he'd worked with one of those before. It made jumping harder, but thankfully most of the Heartless populating this world were tiny weak things -- insects with stunted wings and vaguely rat-shaped creatures that lumbered and blundered into things without really seeming to know where they were going. It was easy enough to avoid them, and a few good whacks with the Keyblade was enough to get rid of them.
For about three months after, though, cats tend to make him excessively uncomfortable.
++++++++++
sjen: Shounen Onmyouji/tactics (currently being expanded liek whoa)
"They say you were a contemporary of my ancestor," Raikou says, chin in hand. He taps Doujikiriyasuna lightly against his thigh in measured rhythm. "Is that true?"
The captured god just glares sullenly, not saying a word. The chains that hold him are an heirloom of the Minamoto family, reinforced with the spells of an oni, glowing faintly in lines across his throat, his chest, all four limbs. It's been a week, and he hasn't said a thing.
"Oh, don't be like that," Raikou chides. He gets to his feet, and uses the end of Doujikiriyasuna's sheath to tip the god's chin up. There's something close to madness in those narrowed eyes, but they're still inhumanly intelligent, and angry enough to char a man's flesh from his bones.
Or, at least, he would, if he could move. Raikou smiles pleasantly at him.
"I wonder," he says idly. "A youkai is compelled to obey the human who names it, but a god, now ..." He slides the sheath away, but the god remains with his head up, staring at Raikou with burning eyes. "That's something that's more of a contract, isn't it?" He steps closer and hears Watanabe shift uneasily; if, somehow, Ibaragi's spells fail, he's very much in reach of those wickedly-sharp claws. "How about it? Would you like to help me?"
The god spits in his face. Raikou's smile doesn't falter.
"Don't be like that," he chides gently. "You don't know what I could offer you."
This gets him bared fangs, and sputters of flame unfurl and then dissipate around the god's bound hands. Raikou watches these with interest; hellfire, it seems, looks no different from normal fire.
"Really," he adds. "I've done my research, after all. Isn't there someone in particular you'd like to see again?" He waits for two beats of silence, then goes on, "Like, perhaps, a beloved master?"
The god's eyes widen. Then he scowls, so blackly that Raikou almost laughs. "Don't fuck with me," he says; his voice is rough and harsh, as though from longer disuse than a mere week. "You couldn't do anything like that. The gates of Yomi don't open for mere humans--"
"Not humans, no." Raikou opens his eyes wide, looking innocently. "But perhaps you know the story of Minamoto no Yoritomo, who slew a nue that was tormenting the emperor?" He searches the god's face, then goes on, "As it turns out, that's not quite the case. He took her as his own, and even gave her a name, how sad. But also ..." He smiles. "A nue, whose ability calls the souls of the dead back to this world. Wouldn't that be nice?"
"Shut up!" the god flares, and struggles so hard that he actually manages to scrape his chair forward a half-inch. Raikou moves smoothly back to maintain the same distance between them. "It's impossible! You can't -- you couldn't --"
"I don't make promises I can't keep," Raikou says, smiling; this time, he reaches out with a hand instead of his sword, cupping the god's chin in his hand; he can hot skin cleanly through his glove. He leans down and feels the god strain against him; those teeth are sharp and strong enough to take off a good portion of his face, if they could connect. "If I say I can, it means I can. Wouldn't that be nice?"
The god stares at him without a word. Raikou can see an old, tired despair that the god himself is possibly unaware of. He smiles, and risks pressing his thumb over slack lips, feeling the fangs beneath.
"Think about it," he says, and leaves the room with Watanabe close behind.
++++++++++
voodoobob: Princess Tutu/Kingdom Hearts
At the last minute, it seemed, the Nobody's footsteps faltered and he stumbled until his back hit the wall. A moment later Sora had him pinned, Oathkeeper and Oblivion crossed at his throat.
"Gotcha," he said.
The Nobody just blinked opaquely at him. "Yes," he agreed, apparently untroubled. He even tilted his head up a little, exposing more of his throat. "Then?"
"It's obvious, isn't it?" Sora shifted his weight a little. "You're a Nobody, you don't have a heart. It's dangerous letting someone like you wander around, who knows what might--"
"Mytho!"
The Nobody's eyes widened. "Tutu ... ?"
Sora glanced over his shoulder at the girl in the doorway: she wore white and pink, and a tiny golden crown was settled atop her head. She had both hands over her mouth, blue eyes wide and accusing, and Sora was rather uncomfortably aware of how very much he looked like the bad guy. "Uh, look, I know this might look like a friend of yours, but he's not--"
"Please stop," the girl interrupted. She picked her way delicately over, balancing on the toes of her small feet. "Please, Mytho's done nothing wrong."
Sora squirmed. "... He doesn't have a heart," he said. "That means he can't--"
"He does too!" she cried, then looked downcast. "He has most of it, at least. There are parts that are missing -- but I've been looking, I promise I have! It won't be long now, so please ..." She dropped into a sudden low pose, one that radiated quiet desperation. "Please don't hurt him. The Prince cannot die."
Cautiously, Sora let the crossed Keyblades lower just a little. The Nobody trapped just turned his head, watching the girl. "What do you mean, 'parts missing'?" he asked. "Either he has a heart or he doesn't, right? Listen, it's a horrible thing when someone loses their heart -- if the heart was strong enough, it leaves behind a 'Nobody' and those are -- they can't be allowed to just wander around, all right? They'll cause trouble--"
"No." The girl shook her head. "No, that's not true, it ..." She rose to her feet, then made a rolling gesture with both hands. "Will you dance with me?"
"... Huh?" He blinked. "I don't think this is the time for dancing--"
She shook her head and smiled gently, holding a hand out to him. "Please," she said. "Dance with me."
Before he could quite stop himself, he let both Oathkeeper and Oblivion vanish, and walked forward to take the girl's hand. It was small and thin in his own; under her skin, her bones felt fragile as glass. "I don't really know how to dance," he warned.
The girl just smiled. "I think you'll dance wonderfully," she said, and pulled him to her.
(There was a story a long time ago, where a kind and noble prince who fought a terrible raven that wished to cover the land in darkness. And in order to keep this from happening, to save the people of the kingdom he loved, he broke his heart into a hundred pieces, using it to bind the Raven in place.
But there was a princess who loved her Prince, and in order to help him regain his smile, she set out to search for the pieces of his heart, to return them one by one--)
"I don't get it," Sora said, as he caught the girl's tiny waist and lifted her in a graceful spin. "How are you telling me this? You're not--"
"Dancing is a language of its own," the girl said, and put her small hands on his shoulders. There was something sad and knowing in her eyes, and Sora had to wonder just exactly what his dance had told her. "You won't find your friends here. And Mytho is not the kind of creature you're so afraid of."
He swallowed. "Then where--"
She stretched up onto her toes, graceful as the flowing water, and kissed his forehead. "You'll find them," she said. "Just ... not here."
++++++++++
moonsheen: Okami/Bleach
"Ken-chaaaaaaaan!"
Those who knew better got out of the way of the pink blur tearing across the division complex; those who didn't were trampled underfoot.
"Ken-chan! Keeeeeen-chan! Ken-chan Ken-chanKenchankenchankenchaaaan!"
Without looking up Zaraki stuck a leg out, so that she tripped over it and went flying. The jar she'd been carrying hit the ground and went rolling off. A moment later Yachiru scrambled to her hands and knees, crawling after it and grabbing it before it could roll off the ledge and be lost.
"Ken-chan!" she trilled, and held up her prize. "Lookit, lookit!"
"Ahhhhn?" Zaraki squinted. "... the hell's that?"
"I caught a sparkly bug!" she cheered, then shook the jar a few times. "See?"
He leaned down to get a better look. At the bottom of the jar was a tiny green speck, which glowed faintly. "Oi, Yachiru, I think it's dead."
"Ehhhhhhhh," she protested, then shook the jar again. "He's not! He's just sleepin'! 'Cos Ken-chan made me drop the jar!"
"If it's dead, it's dead," he said, and leaned back. "Throw it out 'fore someone forgets it's in there and uses it for booze."
Yachiru sat down, scowling at her bottle. "It was too alive," she grumbled. "Stupid sparkly bug." She shook the jar a few times, watching the thing inside rattle around. "You were saying really funny things before, too."
"You sayin' a bug was talking to you?" Zaraki raised an eyebrow. "Yachiru, you going nuts or something?"
She unstoppered the jar and turned it over, so that the thing inside dropped into her palm. With her other hand, she poked at it. "Mister sparkly bug, hello? Hellooooo~"
And then, abruptly, the bug jumped to its feet. There was a brief metallic noise, like a tiny sword had been drawn, and Yachiru yelped, pulling back to stick her finger in her mouth, closing her other hand into a fist. "That hurt," she protested. "If we're gonna play like that, it's not nice to pretend to be dead first! That's cheating!"
"Ain't cheating if you're actually paying attention," Zaraki said. "What, you're playing games with a bug now?"
From inside Yachiru's fist came a high-pitched muffled shriek, something like NOT A BUG or close to it. Yachiru blinked and shook her hand a few times before opening her fingers.
"Ah!" she cheered. "You're not dead, Mister sparkly bug!"
The thing on her hand began to bounce up and down furiously. "I told you!" a small voice squawked. "I'm no bug! I'm the great traveling artist, Issun!"
"Hmmm?" Yachiru tilted her head to the other side. "You look like a bug to me."
"Listen here, you blockheaded little brat, I am NOT--"
A strange breeze rippled across the compound. Zaraki looked up and put his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Hah!" the little creature cried. "It's about time! Honestly, you're so worthless without me, Ammy--"
Yachiru turned to peer over her shoulder, then squealed happily, tossing her original prize into the air; it bounced off the wall by Zaraki's head and dropped to the ground, twitching weakly. "Doggie!" she cried.
The wolf wagged its tail and tipped its head to one side. "Auf," she said.
++++++++++++++++++++
Plant prompts! -- a character and a plant, and I write XXXX words! OKAY GO.
white_aster: Shounen Onmyouji/Shadow Hearts, "black lotus"
Rumors start in early winter, about a woman who gave birth to a monster. Nothing is very specific about who she is -- a minor noblewoman, a widowed peasant, an unlucky courtesan -- she's all these and more. Descriptions of the monster itself are more specific: man-shaped and man-sized, with pure white hair and glowing red eyes, it spoke with a tongue of honey and could entice men to ruin with its whispered seductions. The younger courtiers and princesses put their heads together and murmur back and forth, so that the legends grow and change until it seems the entire court lives in scandalized anticipation of being visited.
As it turns out, the rumors leave out a vital part of things: how easily the creature can change its shape, going from man to woman and back again as it sees fit.
It sits aside Guren's hips and rests its ordinary human hands upon his shoulders and croons something at him, a song he may have known once upon a time, and its face is familiar as his own and infinitely more beloved, though the sneer twists it and makes it unfamiliar, unpleasant, and Guren cannot lift a hand against it as it rides him slow and hard and laughs deep in its throat the entire time.
++++++++++
hiza_chan: Alex cornerverse (Kingdom Hearts), "mistletoe"
Destiny Island is too hot for anything except for tropical plants, but when they arrive on a heavily-forested world, where the air is cool and smells of wet greenery, Kairi breaks away from the others to wander to the foot of a young oak tree.
To her surprise, Alex follows.
"Not bad, isn't it?" he says, with his hands in his pockets and looking up into the tangled branches overhead. "We used to keep some of that with us whenever we traveled, for good luck."
"Oak?" She blinked at him.
He reached up, over her head, and snapped something off the branches -- a gold-green curl of something that oozed sticky white sap at the broken ends. "Mistletoe," he says. "To protect against poison, and --" here he winks, sly -- "to get lucky."
She rolls her eyes at him. "That's so--"
He reaches out and threads the end of the vine into a loose buttonhole. For a moment, his expression is oddly serious. "You never know," he says, "when this sort of thing will come in handy."
++++++++++
sister_coyote: Kingdom Hearts (Kairi), "thistle"
She remembers that someone (a large man, with a stern craggy face and dark brown hair, someone she thinks she should remember better than she does) gave her a little patch of in the back of one of the gardens, to do with as she pleased. She'd wanted to grow sunflowers, like she saw down in the market -- large lovely things, little pieces of the sky she could hold in her hands. And her uncle had indulged her, buying her seeds that she planted in the rich black earth and watered diligently every day.
What she got instead were pale, silver-green bristly things, with wiry purple fuzz at their tops. They weren't ugly, but they weren't what she wanted, and when she grabbed one in frustration to pull it out, sharp spines bit into her fingers.
And as she sucked her fingers, another person (one she wishes so hard she could remember more, because she knows he was signifigant, he was important, and his face is merely a blur) who came to her and stood beside her.
And he said, in his deep slow voice (while she looked up at him and squinted when the sun blocked out his face): "So even in your garden, Princess, unwanted things grow." And he turned his head a little, and she thought he might have been crying, even if it wasn't showing on his face.
... There are times when she is glad she doesn't remember as much.
++++++++++
harlecerule: Kingdom Hearts/GetBackers, "Marluxia" (he sorta counts, whut)
"... this is just getting ridiculous," Ban said. "We've gotta start putting rules down for things we can retrieve. First off, dropping something off at a place that doesn't even really exist is just unprofessional, second, this is--"
"I think it's kinda neat," Ginji offered. "Like that thingy, that story with the giant venus flytrap that ate everything? You know? It used to sing something like, uh ..." He began to hum an off-tune melody. "Like that?"
Their target item in question looked pained, and adopted the pose of pinching the bridge of its nose with one hand. The vines supporting it writhed slightly. "I assure you," he said, "I'm much higher-quality than that."
++++++++++
chibimazoku: Shounen Onmyouji, "lotus"
A grateful nobleman gives Masahiro a haori as a reward for casting out an onryou haunting his youngest daughter, dark blue in color and embroidered with lotus flowers in golden thread and the leaves in silver. It's probably worth more than the exorcism was really warranted, but Masahiro accepts politely and with proper humble gratitude.
"Hoh, not bad, not bad," Mokkun says, pawing at it a little, when they're back in Masahiro's room. "You'll look very dashing in this, won't you?"
Masahiro shrugs. "It's not so bad," he says. "But it's not really my style."
"Not so bad!" Mokkun huffs. "This is high-quality stuff, here! You should be more appreciative! What don't you like?"
"The lotus flowers," says Masahiro, looking straight at Mokkun when he does. "I like red ones better."
++++++++++
torsui: GetBackers (Ban), "aconite"
"Funny thing about that," he says. "Half the time people think this stuff'll kill a werewolf. Witches know better -- they use it to create wolves, when they want." He picks up the dried plants, with their paperthin flowers. And he looks at the terrified would-be target, crushing it to shreds in his bleeding fist. Asclepius hisses and shifts to counteract the tiny burning flashes of poison, and the poor bastard's eyes go wide as he sees the brief phantom flashes of scales.
"Snakes don't worry about things like that," he adds, and strikes.
++++++++++
cinnamonblood: Yuu*Yuu*Hakusho (Kurama), roses
When he returns to the Makai for the last time, he breeds watchdog roses to guard his den: vicious, thorny-vined things that move towards heat and could survive for months without water -- the blood of a single unlucky traveler could sustain a medium-sized bush for a year. He let them grow wild around the entire area, atuned so that only he was allowed to enter.
And he designed them to have small, bright red flowers that unfurled shyly come spring, sweet-smelling and brief, because red roses had been his mother's favorite.
++++++++++
yhibiki: xxxHOLiC/tactics, "clovers"
Yuuko is sitting on the porch, drinking tea, when the ghost wanders through the gates.
He's a young man, though he doesn't appear to be at first glance, with his pure white hair; his eyes are red as her own. Unlike most Japanese ghosts, he has solid feet, and he uses these to make his way towards her. There's something cupped in his hand that he looks at until he's standing right in front of her.
"Hello," he says, smiling. "You're the witch who grants wishes, aren't you?"
"For a price," she agrees, eyes hooded. "Even ghosts have to pay."
He cocks his head, then smiles. He reaches out and presses the clover into her hand. There's a lingering warmth in his touch.
"I'll pay what I have to," he says, "if you make sure this gets passed on to the proper person."
She closes her long fingers over it and reaches to touch his cheek with her other hand. He smiles at her, almost ruefully, and closes his eyes.
When he's gone, Yuuko slides the ring of bells onto her wrist and gives it a brief shake, listening to them chime.
++++++++++
calintz: Okami, "orchid"
In Takamagahara, flowers bloom all year round, of all colors and types, never fading -- as time progresses, they simply vanish and are replaced by a new set. The cherry trees stay all year, but the rest all comes and goes. On slow afternoons, when summer stretches out into forever, the great goddess can be seen sleeping under the trees, with the moon-prophet beside her, playing long after the day goes to dusk and the fireflies have come out to play.
And sometimes if she returns with her kimoni in disarray and a spill of flowers in her long hair, tiny small orchids tucked behind her ears, the thirteen brush-gods turn their heads and say nothing.
++++++++++
voodoobob: Kingdom Hearts, "ivy"
"So," Riku asked, "how are we supposed to get all the way up there?"
Sora walked about halfway around the tower, looking up at the summit as he did. After a moment, he stopped and dug his toe into the ground, grabbing a handful of the ivy covering the northern face and tugging. Leaves crunched, but the vines held steady. He turned and looked at Riku, grinning.
"Race yah," he said.
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... god that was a lot. o_oa
Some of these I'm forced to default on -- if you know you asked for something and I didn't come through, I apologize profusely -- feel free to hit me with a new challenge, and I'll do it! Ou! Fight on, fight on, me!
Thus begins the gigantic FICBIT DUMP OF DOOOOOOOOOOM.
(SO I WROTE KOISURU BOUKUN FIC AFTER ALL. It ... was kind of fun. Damnit. D:)
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"Missing Scene" scenarios -- give me something I've written, and I'll write an alternate/extra scene for it. Also, just whatever you feel like hitting me with. XD
gisho: tactics CHEESY REINCARNATION AU, Haruka and Kagura and the bells."No," Kagura says.
Haruka blinks at her. In his hand, the string of bells shivers a frission of sound, even though he holds completely still. "No?"
She close her book and shakes her head. The wry quirk of her mouth isn't quite a smile, but her eyes are gentle when she reaches out and covers his hand with both of her own. "I don't want them," she said. "He gave them to you, didn't he?"
"But you're him." Haruka's brow furrows. "So--"
"I'm also not him," she says. "And they were given away. Are you saying you don't like the gift?"
Haruka blinks again. He looks at their hands: hers are small in comparison to his (like before, like long ago), but strong enough to keep him in place for the moment. Kagura presses, and he lets her close his fingers over the bells again.
"It's not that I don't like them," he says finally. "But it doesn't belong to me. I was keeping them until ..."
"You can keep them forever, if you like." She smiles and tugs at his hand -- not so much to draw him close as to pull herself to her feet, awkward with her swelling belly. She kisses his knuckles. "As long as you have them, how can I not find you again?"
His eyes widen. "Kagura--"
"No matter how much I change, I'm still myself, right? And whoever I am in the next life ... I'm sure that person will love you too." She presses her cheek to his hand, still smiling. "Keep them, Haruka, okay? So I'll be able to find you again."
The breath hisses out slowly through his teeth. Slowly he bends, until his forehead is against hers. When she lets go of his hand, he slides the bells back onto his wrist again.
"You'd better," he says, and they both pretend there's nothing rough at all in his voice. "I'll be waiting."
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ibythetide: Koisuru Boukun, Tatsumi trying to do something nice (?!?!) for MorinagaThe day of his thesis defense is a bright and sunny one. Morinaga wakes from a fitful sleep and dresses carefully as he can -- a new suit that cost more than he really wants to think about, and his hair damply combed into a semblance of order. He keeps his notes tucked under an arm, reshuffling and straightening them compulsively as he makes his way to the office building. He almost passes the man who's standing at the bottom of the stairs, then staggers when something smacks the back of his head, hard.
Morinaga turns and sees a (decently-sized, actually) rock wrapped with something. He bends and picks it up, unwrapping it carefully.
Written on it is the phrase, "For good fortune on this day."
He looks up and meets a full-fledged scowl from his senpai -- slightly redirected, but still absolutely familiar. In spite of himself he smiles as he trots over, still holding onto the charm. "Senpai!" he says. "Ah, did you come here to cheer me on? Ehehehe, that's so--"
"Keh!" Tatsumi snorts. "Like I'd waste my time doing that."
"But ..." Morinaga blinks. "You're here, aren't you?"
"I just happened to be walking by!" Tatsumi scowls. "It's just coincidence that I'm here. Coincidence. Don't get so excited."
"Senpai ... " Morinaga blinks. He looks at the charm he's holding, then holds it up. "This is--"
The glare Tatsumi levels at a nearby tree was almost enough to make it spontaneously combust; a cluster of girls passing by take one terrified look at skitter quickly out of his line of sight. "What does it LOOK like? Idiot."
"A ..." Morinaga turns it over slowly with his fingertips, half-afraid it's going to fall apart. Actually, knowing his senpai, he thinks he should be more suspicious on whether there's poison laced on the edges. "A good-luck charm?"
"OF COURSE IT'S A GOOD-LUCK CHARM, YOU BLIND FOOL." Tatsumi puffs himself up the whole way, his expression thunderous. "WHAT DID YOU EXPECT, YOU--"
"You got this for me?" Morinaga doesn't think his eyes could get any wider -- they're actually beginning to hurt a bit from staring. "Senpai ..."
"OF COURSE NOT!" Tatsumi bellows. "WHY WOULD I BUY SOMETHING FOR AN IDIOT PERVERT HOMO--"
"Eh?" Morinaga squints at the charm. After a moment, he feels the absolute stillness of shock settle over him, which lets him look up at Tatsumi's red face without actually exploding.
"Senpai ... don't tell me that you --"
A vein ticcs in Tatsumi's forehead. The light pings off his glasses for a moment, rendering his eyes invisible. "What about it."
"--you ... made this?" Morinaga holds up the small good-luck charm. "This is your handwriti--gggghk."
Tatsumi keeps shaking him hard for a few moments, making sputtering furious noises that aren't actually a denial. When he glances up, he apparently sees something in Morinaga's expression that makes him shove back, hard, and his blush has moved all the way down his neck, disappearing into his shirt.
"You did," Morinaga breathes. "Senpai, for me, you--"
"It's not like I'd do something like that for a pervert like you," Tatsumi hisses. "Why'd I waste my time doing something like that! It's just a fucking thesis defense! I've got more important things with my time than something pointless like that--"
Morinaga throws his arms around his senpai, squeezing hard as he can. There's a long outraged string of muffled curses into his as Tatsumi immediately begins to squirm, clawing and shoving for freedom. He ignores it, pressing his nose into Tatsumi's hair and breathing deep; all impending doom seems to have fallen away (though he knows that he's probably going to get a beating as soon as he loosens his arms just a little). "Thank you," he says, pretty sure that Tatsumi misses it in his struggling.
Or maybe not, because for a moment Tatsumi pauses, still with his face in Morinaga's shoulder. It's just a moment -- less than ten seconds -- but it's there, it's there and even though Tatsumi punctuates its end by twisting and yowling like an outraged cat, Morinaga knows it was there.
He goes into the defense with a fresh bruise red on his cheek, a smile he can't stop, and a small handmade good-luck charm tucked into his jeans pocket.
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rivendellrose: Doctor Who, from our fandom discussions about the Doctor's wife (assumes Susan is his biological granddaughter)She hears about her granddaughter's disappearence from her own daughter, and spends the rest of the day preparing.
They come to her in full ceremonial garb, and their headdresses hardly fit through her door. She serves them tea and sits with her hands folded calmly in her lap. They cannot cow her, though the youngest is over half and again her age, and together they have the power to force a regeneration, to give more lives, and a hundred thousand other possibilities.
She is a daughter of Gallifrey, she is a Time Lady, she is not afraid.
"Do you know what he's done?" their spokesman asks. Appearence-wise he's the eldest of the group, but his small dark eyes are bright as stars in his wrinkled face. "Your husband?"
Without blinking, she regards him evenly. "What he does is his own business," she says. "What I do is mine. If he's done something, that's his choice."
And there's the crux of it: they ask her a thousand other questions, all subtle variations of the same core inquiry, but she doesn't sway from her path. Her path diverged from her husband's long ago -- she hasn't seen him in nearly a standard Gallifreyan year -- but there is still something that ties and draws her to him, unable to turn aside.
If she could afford it, she'd smile: that stupid, stupid man, always getting into trouble and expecting her to cover up for those messes ...
Well, with good reason. She drinks her tea and answers without fear, and she holds his face in her mind; later, she'll pour a cup that will go cold and stale without being touched, and she'll wish him luck.
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hiza_chan: Alexverse, Sora and Alex talk about Axel."What I don't get," Sora says, "is why."
Alex pauses and straightens up from the balcony he was leaning against. At his full height, even with the growth spurt, he's taller than Sora by a good foot. His expression is completely and utterly sincere, green eyes wide and brows drawn together. "Well," he says, "sometimes a man loves another man very much and--"
In his head Sora hears Roxas snort; he rolls his eyes for both of them. "I meant -- why choose to die? You could open portals even Betwixt and Between, couldn't you? You could have gotten yourself out, or maybe redirected them--"
He expects another glib answer. What he sees, instead, is a brief strange gleam in Alex's eyes before he turns away, hunches again to rest his elbows on the balcony. His expression is too-casual, one that Roxas recognzes as gearing up for avoidance, as he looks out upon the waves and doesn't see them at all.
"We were on a tight schedule," Alex says. He waves a dismissive hand. "You had to go find Kairi, didn't you? Didn't have the time to cut through that many Nobodies."
"That's a lot to do for a girl you helped kidnap," Sora says. It's not quite kind, but it's a question Roxas won't ask -- because Axel apologized, but he still ...
Alex fixes him with an unreadable expression. Long seconds tick past and he doesn't blink once. "But not for someone who makes you feel like you still have a heart," he says. He reaches out and flicks his index finger against Sora's forehead; Roxas is the one who feels it burn. "Didn't I say that?"
Sora rubs his forehead. He opens his mouth and Roxas says, "You're an idiot." They both reach out and take fistfuls of Alex's shirt, pulling him up and closer; in his head Sora feels a gentle nudge, and steps back to let Roxas take the front. "You're such an idiot."
For a moment Alex looks surprised -- but soon enough his expression relaxes back into that same opaque look. He covers Roxas' hands with his own and shakes his head.
"Maybe," he says. "I still did it without regrets."
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zinjadu: THE TIMES AND TRIALS OF A TEENAGED SUPERVILLAIN. Yeaaaah.They stood exactly ten paces apart, facing each other. The rest of the schoolyard had emptied out quickly, though students continued to peek around corners, watching. A dusty wind blew loose papers between the two boys.
"So," said the first one. He held a remote control with a single large red button in one hand. "We meet at last."
The other shrugged, scratching the back of his head. "Guess so," he said. He looked at the remote. "You can't use that here."
"Oh yeah?" The first boy grinned widely. A mad gleam sparkled in his eyes that would have done his mother proud. "Who's gonna stop me?"
"Me," said the second.
They stared intensely at each other. More wind blew between them, and clouds rolled back in the sky, leaving them both highlighted in midafternoon sun. A passing truck provided a brief guitar riff from its radio.
From around the corner, Misty watched, twirling some hair around one finger. She elbowed her friend, peeking over her shoulder. "Hey," she whispered, "d'you think they're gonna fight or do each other?"
Alison stared at her. "Ewwwww," she said.
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Drabble Post -- drabbles because I made 250 friends-of! Also includes random porn.
blizzard4526: Guren/Masahiro [Shounen Onmyouji]Guren is always excruciatingly careful with his claws: he remembers, all too well, how easily they punched through human flesh, and how bright the blood looked on the snow. He remembers and repents by care, using his knuckles to trace down the length of Masahiro's body, by keeping his fangs robed by his lips, by keeping his weight braced on his elbows.
But Masahiro objects; he grabs Guren's shoulders and drags him down hard, he forces Guren's fingers flat so they can clasp hands, he kisses and presses and pleads until, helpless and in love, Guren bows to his will.
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yhibiki: Raikou/Kantarou, with jealous!Haruka [tactics]"Well," Youko says, morose, "he's rich, at least."
Haruka shoots her a deadly glare. "That," he says through his teeth, "isn't the point."
"I thought so," Youko sighs. "I thought it was 'ah, he's rich, and Kan-chan can bring home snacks from this party! Haruka-chan is being unreasonable."
He growls. "I'm being unreasonable. He's the one hanging all over that -- that man like. Like. Like that."
Youko's eyebrows rise. Wisely, she says nothing, and Haruka goes back to fuming as they peek through the windows of the Minamoto estate, and watch Raikou pour more wine, and Kantarou laughing as he drinks.
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rahzel: Doumeki/Watanuki [xxxHOLiC]It would be cliche to say that Watanuki looks younger when he sleeps, and also a lie. He looks more peaceful, though, and perhaps that's where someone might get confused. He sleeps lightly even drunk; every small creak and groan of the house settling has his eyes fluttering sightlessly open before falling shut again. He breathes through his open mouth, almost snoring. His sake cup, tumbled loosely from his hand, dribbles on the floor.
Doumeki's own cup is not yet empty, but he balances it on his finger without drinking. He watches the moon pass shadows over Watanuki's face instead.
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moonsheen: Amaterasu/Ushiwaka [Okami]He writes a poem that compares the arch of her throat to snow and her sleeves to flowing water, and reads it aloud nervously as she lounges alongside him.
"Hm," she says and tilts her head. Her smile is wolfish. "Are all of your tribe such flatterers?."
Mortified, he crumples up the scroll. He wants to flee before she actually laughs; his face is so hot it hurts. "My lady," he stammers, "Mother Amaterasu--"
She reaches up and touches his cheek with cool fingers. "Hush," she says, and her mouth is upon his. "I did not say I disliked it."
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rivendellrose: TARDIS/Doctor [Doctor Who]In all her many years, she's never been confined this way.
Her chamelon chip allowed for so much freedom, but never anything like this -- this tiny human shell, so fragile and assured of its importance, reaching into her heart as though to tear the power from her. She allows it, because there's no time, not now, not for him, and back they go: she is a wolf on the hunt, following his blood on the wind.
My Doctor, the little human girl's lips say, but it's her will that propels them, her love that will bring him home.
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vikki: Allen Walker [D.Gray-man]Allen's first memories aren't a mother's voice or a father's hand -- it's of gaslights and staring worn faces as girls sang and clowns tumbled in choregraphed coordination across the rickety stage. There's the memory of sitting on Mana's shoulders and staring in amazement at how many people there were, the hungry and the dirty and the tired briefly drawn into the strange glittering world crafted of old costumes and peeling sets. He remembers his own place among them, petted for his cute face and slipped an extra tear of bread when the money was especially good.
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CROSSOVERS -- BECAUSE I LIKE THEM, OKAY? OKAY.
torsui: GetBackers/tacticsMaria Noches sits on her porch with her feet crossed at the ankles and pours enough tea for two.
The moon is already setting when the fox comes slinking out of the shadows, picking her way delicately across the yard. There's a smudge of soot on her cheek that remains even when her form reshapes itself; she wipes it away with the sleeve of her kimono before she comes and sits down. Her feet are bare and her clothes have seen better days, but she moves with a confidence in her own skin. She takes up the second teacup and drinks in silence.
Eventually, she says, "I found him again."
Maria glances aside at the fox and then pulls a card from her sleeve. She turns it to look at its face, then smiles. "I see," she says. "I bet he gave you a hard time, didn't he."
The fox laughs, which actually sounds more like crying; she pauses to dab the corner of her eyes. "He did," she says. "I don't think he wanted to be found. After Kan-chan ... after Kan-chan, he just disappeared. I thought maybe he went back to the place where he'd been sealed, or ..." She takes a deep breath. "Or maybe to the mountains, but he wasn't there, either." She bends down over her cup for a moment, and her hair falls forward to hide her face. "He wasn't anywhere."
"Their sort are difficult to track down, when they want to be." Maria turns the card a few times, then shows it to the fox. "Does he really look anything like this?"
The fox peers at the card and laughs again; it sounds more genuine now. "Oh, no," she says. "Haruka-chan -- I mean, the Oni-Eater, no. He's very handsome, actually. Ah, there was once where we met a traditional-looking tengu, and he was so offended! Kan-chan teased him for weeks ..." Her voice cracks again. This time, Maria produces a handkerchief, which she gives to the fox without a word; the fox takes it and scrubs her face.
"I'm sorry," she apologizes, after a moment. "It was just so strange to see him again -- he's working, of all things! The Oni-Eater, working! Ahh, Kan-chan would just have a fit, wouldn't he ..."
"Time changes everyone, after all," Maria says. She draws a second card and studies it, then tucks it away again. "Even those of us who seem to be utterly set in stone." She reaches to refill both their cups.
"Ah," the fox says, "but he's not in stone any more. He was for a long time, but not any more." The fingers of her free hand twist in her sleeve, tight enough that her knuckles turn white. "I was, too. I didn't really think I had, but then -- suddenly, I was alone." She closes her eyes and takes a slow breath. "I was alone, and I didn't know what else to do except--"
She draws a third card, and this she takes and she presses into the fox's hand. "You're all right," she says gently. "You'll be okay. See?"
The fox looks and chokes on another half-laugh. "Oh," she says. "Oh, that's ..."
"I think," says Maria, "that if you wait long enough, you'll even see the other one then." She winks then, cutely as any young woman might. "I'm a witch, after all. I know these things."
The fox wipes her eyes again and beams. "You are, aren't you," she says. "Ah, it's been a long time since a human's seen me for what I am."
Maria takes the handkerchief back and uses it to wipe the last bits of soot from the fox's cheek. "You'll have to go back to having a name, won't you," she says gently. "Are you ready for that?"
The fox twists her fingers in her sleeves again, and she takes a deep breath. She smiles.
"I am," she says.
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lazulisong: xxxHOLiC/Kingdom HeartsWitches do not generally like to meet each other: they are more territorial than wolves and they fight with things far more terrible than fangs or claws. They remember more clearly than most, and more jealously than not. A witch, if she can, will not suffer her sister to live.
A witch, however, is also a shrewd creature. She knows how to pick her battles.
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"Watanuki," Yuuko says. She's draped artfully over her divan, one arm over her eyes, and her sleeves are long enough to flow across the floor. "Do you know what the worth of a heart is?"
"... Hahh?" He pauses in the middle of dusting to look at her. "Yuuko-san?"
She smiles faintly. "Do you know what a heart is worth?"
He tilts his head. "It's ... sort of priceless, isn't it?" he offers hesitantly. "Because that's where your memories are kept, right? So--"
Yuuko lifts a finger and traces a lazy pattern in the air above her head. "It's a precious thing," she says. "Even if you don't value it yourself."
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"I want to become stronger," says the girl on the shop's doorstep. Her coarse dark hair is in braids, her dark eyes are hard and arrogant. If you look very carefully, there is the faintest, skeletal hinting of gossamer wings sprouting from her back -- but they're stunted and fragile, not enough to carry any weight. "I'm tired of being so weak. I know I have strength within me, and I want to obtain that."
Yuuko exhales; the girl doesn't even flinch at the smoke in her eyes. "There's a price," she says.
"I don't care," the girl says. "I want to be stronger."
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"Is it like a soul, then? A 'heart'?" Watanuki offers after a moment. His voice is nervous. "Yuuko-san, you once said -- even if someone doesn't have a soul, they can keep on living, so ..."
"Hearts and souls are very similiar," Yuuko agrees. She moves her arm enough that she can look up at him. She smiles slowly. "Both are terrible things to lose."
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"It doesn't work quite that easily," Yuuko tells the girl. "I can show you the way, but if you want the strength, you'll have to obtain it yourself."
The girl nods. Her expression is flinty, her lips pinched. "I will become stronger," she says, more to herself than to Yuuko. "I won't be ignored any more."
Yuuko gives the girl her instructions, exactingly specific, then watches her leave, shedding a thousand possible futures as she goes. Already there is one thread that is stronger than the others, portents of a terrible darkness to come.
But it's already too late, she knows: a new set of stones has already begun to tumble into freefall.
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"What happens, then?" Watanuki asks; his voice is reluctantly curious, like it's an answer he wants to know, but is afraid of hearing. "If you lose your heart?"
"What inevitably must," Yuuko says. She stretches her one hand up, so that her sleeve slides down to pool at her shoulder, and spreads her fingers wide.
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When they meet again, the girl that was a fairy has become a woman who is a witch. She keeps her hair under a severe headdress and her skin is now the color of bone, but her dark eyes are still hard and arrogant. She walks with the same determination, and with a confidence born from years. Darkness cloaks her with comfort, settled around her narrow shoulders like a smug cat, flaring out to suggest wings far greater than her weak gossamer limbs could have ever dreamed of becoming.
She stops when she sees Yuuko. "I've already paid my price," she says. "I won't pay more."
"Of course not," Yuuko says. "I wouldn't dream of asking it." She looks around, at the dark cold of a world that no longer has a heart, then looks back at the witch. "Have you become strong, then?"
Green fire flares at the head of the witch's staff, and she smiles thinly. "Stronger than you would believe," she says -- but she does not follow up on her threat, just stands and stares at Yuuko. "And I would not trade that for anything."
Yuuko inclines her head. On a chain around her neck, a small glowing red crystal flickers weakly, then goes dark.
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"It seems like a bad idea," Watanuki says. "Giving up your heart for anything."
"The worst of ideas," Yuuko agrees. She settles her hand to her throat, covering her necklace with her palm. "But it's still a choice, and still one you can freely make."
Watanuki considers this. "A bad idea," he repeats, and goes back to dusting.
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chibimazoku: Yami no Matsuei/Shounen OnmyoujiWakana opened her eyes and drew in a breath of shock at the simple lack of pain.
The heaviness that had plagued her body for months had melted away entirely, the weakness that had confined her to bed turned back into strength. For a moment relief made her giddy, and she wanted to toss off her blankets and run down the hallways, no mater that she was dressed only in a thin yukata; she wanted to run and remember how it felt to move, she wanted to find her husband and see his face changed as he realized she was no longer--
A polite cough interrupted her thoughts.
"My lady," a woman's voice said softly, politely, and it did not sound like any of the Shinsou. "It's time to go."
And just like that, as quickly as it had come, her joy sloughed off into growing dread. She turned slowly, holding her breath, as though denying that would deny everything else.
A woman knelt, seiza-position, in the doorway. She kept her hands folded in her lap, but she met Wakana's eyes without flinching. She was dressed simply, all in black, and there was pity in the line of her mouth, in her solemn dark gaze. "It's time to go," she said again.
Wakana closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, she turned and looked at herself; she looked old, she thought, old and still terribly in pain, even with the new slackness of her features. And while vanity had never been something that troubled her, she wanted suddenly to reach out and smooth her own features, because certainly her husband would be returning to her side soon; this was not the last face of hers she wanted him to see.
She reached out, and her hand passed through herself like smoke.
"Already," she murmured. "I hadn't realized ..."
"We should go," the woman said gently. "There's a protocol to follow, and you can't be allowed to stay here. Too many people could see you. The dead are meant for another place." She rose to her feet and smoothed the folds of her kimono with a practiced grace. "Come, Wakana-sama."
Wakana said nothing, but rose as well. She could hear footsteps in the hallway: her husband returning, then, and ah, the timing had to be such ...
"I was happy," she said softly, to herself and the room. "I was so happy to have met you."
"Wakana-sama," the woman said again, and she turned to go.
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Seimei paused with his hand on the screen.
Behind him, Guren shifted his weight a little, though he waited half a minute before saying, "Seimei?"
Seimei closed his eyes and leaned to rest his forehead against the shouji. His shoulders shook once. Alarmed, Guren started forward, then froze with his hand hovering just above Seimei's back. The presence was faint, and growing weaker with each moment, but--
Shinigami, he thought but did not say; instead he spoke his master's name, then started forward when Seimei's knees buckled, catching him before he could simply fold to the ground. There was a sudden weakness to him, fragile enough that a breath might be enough to shatter him. Guren opened his mouth, then decided against speaking, keeping Seimei upright as the first hoarse sob came.
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inarticulate: Shounen Onmyouji/tactics"Ah, Masahiro!" Tsuyuki smiled. "Welcome home."
Masahiro paused in the act of removing the tate-eboshi. "Ah, Mother? Is something wrong?"
Tsuyuki covered her mouth with a sleeve for a moment. "Well," she said. "The truth is, your grandfather is recieving a guest," she said. "He requested you come sit in once you arrived home."
"A guest? Me?" Masahiro pointed, surprised. "Do you know who it is?"
"Well," said Tsuyuki. "You should go yourself and see." She reached out, ostensibly straightening his clothes and smoothing his hair, then smiled. "Go on, then."
He nodded, tucking the tate-eboshi under his arm and readjusting his ponytail as he went. At the door of his grandfather's study, he knelt down; Mokkun leapt from his shoulder to sit beside him. "Grandfather, I've returned home."
"Ohh, Masahiro." There was a rustle from the other side of the screen. "Come in, come in."
"Thank you," he said politely, and straightened to slide the door open. Inside, his grandfather was seated normally, across from a young man dressed in full court attire, who sat with a sword laid across his eyes.
"Masahiro, come here." Seimei waved, his expression oddly serious. "Close the door behind you."
He scooted inside, waiting long enough for Mokkun to slip in after him before doing as he was told. "Grandfather?"
"Listen well, Masahiro," Seimei told him. "Do you know who this person is?"
Masahiro blinked, then turned to look. The stranger smiled at him politely, and though his face was the soft oval so popular among the rich, his hands were knotted and callused, and there was a confident laziness to his posture that Masahiro recognized from most of the Shinsou. "... Ah," he said hesitantly. "I'm very sorry, I don't--"
"That's fine," the stranger said, his voice pleasant. "I've been away for a long time, I would be surprised if you knew my name."
"Masahiro," Seimei said. "This person is Minamoto no Raikou-sama. I trust you know who that is?"
He just managed to hold back a yelp of surprise, turning and bowing awkwardly. "Ah," he said. "My humblest apologies, I didn't realize--"
"No, no," Minamoto laughed, waving a hand. "It's fine, Abe no Masahiro-dono. I am currently a guest in your house, after all." He smiled pleasantly, though his eyes traveled past Masahiro's sohulder, for a moment looking straight at Mokkun. "It's not on official business, you needn't be so formal."
"Eh, but that's ..." Masahiro swallowed and sat up in slow degrees. "Raikou-sama ..."
"To be honest, this is something that Michinaga-sama has tried to dissaude me from, many times," he said, then chuckled wryly, as though defying the Minister of the Left was no great affair. "But it's something that I want very much to do, no matter what." He turned to Seimei. "I hoped that the famed Abe no Seimei would be able to help me find what I'm looking for."
"Looking for ... ?" Masahiro echoed.
"I'm searching for a particular youkai," said Minamoto. "A tengu, in fact."
"Tengu?" Masahiro blinked. "They prefer the mountains, don't they? But why would you--"
"This particular tengu is special," Minamoto said; his fists clenched over his sword, knuckles turning white. Something in his expression changed, a hungry light flaring to life in his eyes. "So powerful that even the great Shuten Douji fears him, far stronger than any other youkai who's lived." Again, he looked straight at Mokkun, though his expression didn't change, like he saw nothing at all. "A tengu whose preferred meal are the hearts of oni. An oni-eater, if you will."
Masahiro said nothing. Beside him, Mokkun sat tense and still as stone.
After a moment, Seimei sighed. "But this is a creature that only preys upon oni," he said. "He doesn't care for humans, does he?"
"They say he'll fight anyone who challenges him." Minamoto's eyes continued to gleam. "No matter who, if you call for him, he'll come fight. I want to fight him -- with this sword, with this Doujikiriyasuna--"
"But he doesn't seek these out himself," Seimei said, and shook his head. "I'm afraid, Raikou-sama, I must refuse."
Minamoto seemed genuinely surprised by this, though he recovered fast. "Seimei-sama," he protested. "Please, you're the only one--"
"I'm afraid I cannot condone that sort of violence," Seimei said firmly. "I apologize that you had to waste your time, Raikou-sama, but there's nothing I can do for you."
For a moment, Masahiro thought that Minamoto would continue to protest; his hands gripped the sword so tightly they trembled. The intent for a fight poured off him so strongly that it was nearly stifling, and Masahiro wondered how many of the other Shinsou were close by, just in case.
But then the light in Minamoto's eyes went out, and he was suddenly again just a pleasant-faced, smiling young man. "Well," he said. "That's too bad, then." He got to his feet and bowed low, first to Seimei, then to Masahiro. "I apologize for wasting your time, then. I shall see myself out." He paused then, then bowed a third time -- now to Mokkun, whose ears rose slightly. "And to you," he said. "I don't know which one you are, but I'm honored to have an audience with one of the famous Twelve Shinsou."
Mokkun stared hard and didn't answer. Minamoto straightened and smiled. "I'd like to fight you too, someday," he said. "If you're interested, I'm easy enough to find."
Then he was gone, and Masahiro let out an explosive breath. He turned to Seimei, brow furrowed. "Grandfather--"
"Don't worry, Masahiro." Seimei sighed, and for a moment he looked terribly old, fragile in a way that was terrifying to see. "The tengu he's looking for already no longer exists in this world."
"--Eh?" Masahiro's eyes widened. "You mean he's--"
"Named," Seimei said, his tone succinct. "It's already too late for that." He sighed. "Once a youkai is named, there's no real going back ..." For a moment he seemed to be brooding, then shook himself, and the moment before was gone, like nothing more than a bad dream. "So, Masahiro! You should be careful about the names you use. They have a meaning to them."
"That's right," Mokkun said at last. "So you should stop calling me 'mononoke, mononoke,' Seimei's grandson."
A vein ticced in Masahiro's temple. "Don't call me 'grandson,' mononoke no Mokkun!"
"You too! Stop calling me 'Mokkun,' I have a name--"
"Mokkun! Mokkun! I told you before, in that form, you're Mokkun!"
"Would you cut out the 'Mokkun,' grandson!"
"DON'T CALL ME GRANDSON--"
Seimei chuckled and leaned back against his writing desk, fanning himself. There'd been more to his divination, more he could've said about the nature of names and the relationship between the named and the namer, but -- that would make things too easy, wouldn't it?
He'd let them figure it out on their own.
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zinjadu: D.Gray-man/Fireflywhen she was younger someone sang to her, not her mother (o never her mother, her mother was too busy with glittering parties and sparkling people), not her father (never her father, never her father with his narrow thin smile and his loaded generousity), maybe her brother, her brother might have sung to her and taken care of her, because he took care of her, that was what he did he took care of her he--
sang songs about the things that lived in the shadows and wanted to eat little girls, their soft sweet faces and sugary bodies, things that had sharp teeth and knifelike smiles and never looked the same way twice, things that would eat girls so easily
but she thinks ah, i am changed into something no longer a girl, i have something inside me that should not be here. what am i what have i become. they would not want to eat me.
they would not want to touch me.
+++
"River?" Kaylee looked up from her examination of a blanket. "River, honey, what's wrong?"
Without answering, River got to her feet and began to weave her way across the store, towards where a blonde woman was speaking to the shopkeeper. She watched a space just above the woman's left shoulder, cocking and uncocking her head like a bird.
"River!" Kaylee stuffed the blanket back, hasty. "River, wait--"
+++
i know you, she whispers but without her voice, without herself, she stares and stares even as it makes her stomach twist and twist, and she wonders if maybe it'll explode, if it is wrapped too tightly.
the thing sees her. they look at each other.
i know you, she says.
and i know you, it says.
+++
Kaylee hurried up and caught River's arm, pulling the girl back. She smiled politely at the other woman, who seemed to be more confused than anything else under the weight of River's unblinking stare.
"I'm awfully sorry," Kaylee said. "I hope she didn't bother you, she--"
"Ah," River whispers, contorting her mouth to fit the shape. "Ahhhhhh."
"River!" Kaylee whispers; the girl is trembling in her arms. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry--"
"Oh, no," the woman says, and fixes her eyes on River's pale face, and for a moment Kaylee herself felt awful skeevy, like she was bein' looked straight through. Something wasn't quite right about that smile either; it had too many teeth, or it was too wide for the woman's face. "No, it's quite all right." She reached out, stiffly, and patted River's head.
"Ahhhk," River whispered.
"Well," Kaylee said, uncomfortable, and tugged again. "If, if there's nothing else, then we'll go ahead and -- River, meimei, come on--"
They left the store; Kaylee glanced back once and saw the woman staring after them, and maybe she was just heat-dazed or something, but it seemed the woman's smile was wide enough to split her head in two.
+++
i am not real, you know, she says to the creature. and neither are you.
the creature does not say anything, but its dark eyes frown and its shadowy fingers clench and writhe and it wants to spread its wings, it wants to break free and eat everyone, her and others and so much more, but she's poison.
she's poison, and it knows this; she is a not-real thing, and it is a not-real thing, and if they come together, she knows, oh, they'd suck each other to the marrow till there was nothing left.
i am not real, she says, i am a girl who is no longer a girl, and i know what you are.
a-ku-ma.
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lithele: Princess Tutu/Ouran Host Club"Kyouya!" Tamaki barelled into the room, brandishing a book over his head. "I've just had a marvelous idea!"
Kyouya didn't even look up from his computer. "If it's about the jungle safari, it'll have to wait; we have to wait for permission from the student council before we commander the third rose garden again--"
"No, no, better! Better!" Tamaki bounded over to Kyouya's side and slapped the book down onto the table, hard enough to make the teacups rattle. "Look at this!" He waited for a moment, sparkling expectantly; when Kyouya just blinked at him, glases opaque, Tamaki grabbed it back and began to flip through, stopping at an apparently random point and shoving it into Kyouya's face. "Look at this, look! Isn't it wonderful?"
Kyouya pushed the book back and adjusted his glasses. He took the book from Tamaki, closing it to look at the cover. "'The Prince and the Raven'?" he said. "What's this, then?"
"A wonderful story!" Tamaki spun on his heel, striking a dramatic pose: a hand over his heart and the other flung out, his face tipped heavenwards. "A story of tragedy and triumph, where a noble prince fights against a monstrous raven, only to lose his heart and! Be saved by a princess! It's a fairytale, see! And it'd be wonderful--"
"It's a bit more elaborate than our usual themes," Kyouya said. He skimmed briefly. "Studies indicate that most of our clientele only enjoy tragedies if they're guarenteed of a happy ending."
"Of course!" Tamaki pointed at Kyouya. "It will be the love of a princess that saves the prince from his heartless state! We shall all be princes, learning to feel again due to the kind hearts of the women who weep for us! Ahhh, how lovely it would be!" He pressed the back of a wrist to his forehead, fluttering in a half-swoon. "Think of it, Kyouya! Wouldn't it be wonderful!"
"A story like this needs a villain to be properly effective," Kyouya said. "We'd need at least one Raven."
"A raven prince!" Tamaki cried. "Ahh, one who might be led from the darkness by the gentle heart of a princess! The very sound of it has a romantic ring--"
Kyouya sighed, putting the book down. "Tamaki," he said. "Did you even read the whole thing?"
"Of course," Tamaki protested. He threw himself into the chair opposite Kyouya and leaned forward, eyes wide and sparkling. "Say we can do this, Kyouya! We already have some pieces for a prince costume, and ah, maybe we could have Haruhi be a princess as well, she'd look lovely in white and gold--"
"Tamaki," Kyouya said, "the prince and the princess don't end up together at the end of the story."
"--and we've those wigs, we can do some nice things with it so that she's got curls and -- hah?"
"They don't end up together." Kyouya sat up a little, the light pinging to hide his eyes behind his glasses. "In fact, the princess turns into a bird and spends her life at the side of the knight. The prince leaves with the raven-girl, not the princess."
"Eh ... that can't be ..." Tamaki's face fell. "But the prince and the princess always--"
"Not always," Kyouya said. He waited as Tamaki's head fell forward and stormclouds began to gather above them before he added, "Though, I suppose, it's not the first time we've rewritten things to suit our purposes."
Lightning sparked briefly in the clouds above Tamaki.
"I suppose this means I should be a raven," he mused, then reached over with the book, tapping Tamaki smartly on the head with it. "See if you can get the twins' mother to mock up designs for us."
And just like that, the clouds rolled back and Tamaki's head snapped up again, his smile blinding. He caught Kyouya's hands and pumped it enthusiastically.
"It'll be wonderful!" he said. "You'll see, we'll make it something truly beautiful, ah, it'll be hard to outdo ourselves after this! You won't regret it, Kyouya!" He whipped out his cellphone and launched himself into an excited pace across the music room, already launching into a list of things they would need, modifications that would need to be made for the room, and more ideas for Haruhi's eventual costume.
Kyouya sighed, watching, and went back to work.
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awillowweeping: Kingdom Hearts/Secret of NIMHThe worst part about the whole thing were the ears: it felt like he could hear everything now, even the stuff he'd really rather not. Every branch rustling and twig snapping seems about fifty times louder than it really needed to be.
The tail was a bit weird too, but at least he'd worked with one of those before. It made jumping harder, but thankfully most of the Heartless populating this world were tiny weak things -- insects with stunted wings and vaguely rat-shaped creatures that lumbered and blundered into things without really seeming to know where they were going. It was easy enough to avoid them, and a few good whacks with the Keyblade was enough to get rid of them.
For about three months after, though, cats tend to make him excessively uncomfortable.
++++++++++
sjen: Shounen Onmyouji/tactics (currently being expanded liek whoa)"They say you were a contemporary of my ancestor," Raikou says, chin in hand. He taps Doujikiriyasuna lightly against his thigh in measured rhythm. "Is that true?"
The captured god just glares sullenly, not saying a word. The chains that hold him are an heirloom of the Minamoto family, reinforced with the spells of an oni, glowing faintly in lines across his throat, his chest, all four limbs. It's been a week, and he hasn't said a thing.
"Oh, don't be like that," Raikou chides. He gets to his feet, and uses the end of Doujikiriyasuna's sheath to tip the god's chin up. There's something close to madness in those narrowed eyes, but they're still inhumanly intelligent, and angry enough to char a man's flesh from his bones.
Or, at least, he would, if he could move. Raikou smiles pleasantly at him.
"I wonder," he says idly. "A youkai is compelled to obey the human who names it, but a god, now ..." He slides the sheath away, but the god remains with his head up, staring at Raikou with burning eyes. "That's something that's more of a contract, isn't it?" He steps closer and hears Watanabe shift uneasily; if, somehow, Ibaragi's spells fail, he's very much in reach of those wickedly-sharp claws. "How about it? Would you like to help me?"
The god spits in his face. Raikou's smile doesn't falter.
"Don't be like that," he chides gently. "You don't know what I could offer you."
This gets him bared fangs, and sputters of flame unfurl and then dissipate around the god's bound hands. Raikou watches these with interest; hellfire, it seems, looks no different from normal fire.
"Really," he adds. "I've done my research, after all. Isn't there someone in particular you'd like to see again?" He waits for two beats of silence, then goes on, "Like, perhaps, a beloved master?"
The god's eyes widen. Then he scowls, so blackly that Raikou almost laughs. "Don't fuck with me," he says; his voice is rough and harsh, as though from longer disuse than a mere week. "You couldn't do anything like that. The gates of Yomi don't open for mere humans--"
"Not humans, no." Raikou opens his eyes wide, looking innocently. "But perhaps you know the story of Minamoto no Yoritomo, who slew a nue that was tormenting the emperor?" He searches the god's face, then goes on, "As it turns out, that's not quite the case. He took her as his own, and even gave her a name, how sad. But also ..." He smiles. "A nue, whose ability calls the souls of the dead back to this world. Wouldn't that be nice?"
"Shut up!" the god flares, and struggles so hard that he actually manages to scrape his chair forward a half-inch. Raikou moves smoothly back to maintain the same distance between them. "It's impossible! You can't -- you couldn't --"
"I don't make promises I can't keep," Raikou says, smiling; this time, he reaches out with a hand instead of his sword, cupping the god's chin in his hand; he can hot skin cleanly through his glove. He leans down and feels the god strain against him; those teeth are sharp and strong enough to take off a good portion of his face, if they could connect. "If I say I can, it means I can. Wouldn't that be nice?"
The god stares at him without a word. Raikou can see an old, tired despair that the god himself is possibly unaware of. He smiles, and risks pressing his thumb over slack lips, feeling the fangs beneath.
"Think about it," he says, and leaves the room with Watanabe close behind.
++++++++++
voodoobob: Princess Tutu/Kingdom HeartsAt the last minute, it seemed, the Nobody's footsteps faltered and he stumbled until his back hit the wall. A moment later Sora had him pinned, Oathkeeper and Oblivion crossed at his throat.
"Gotcha," he said.
The Nobody just blinked opaquely at him. "Yes," he agreed, apparently untroubled. He even tilted his head up a little, exposing more of his throat. "Then?"
"It's obvious, isn't it?" Sora shifted his weight a little. "You're a Nobody, you don't have a heart. It's dangerous letting someone like you wander around, who knows what might--"
"Mytho!"
The Nobody's eyes widened. "Tutu ... ?"
Sora glanced over his shoulder at the girl in the doorway: she wore white and pink, and a tiny golden crown was settled atop her head. She had both hands over her mouth, blue eyes wide and accusing, and Sora was rather uncomfortably aware of how very much he looked like the bad guy. "Uh, look, I know this might look like a friend of yours, but he's not--"
"Please stop," the girl interrupted. She picked her way delicately over, balancing on the toes of her small feet. "Please, Mytho's done nothing wrong."
Sora squirmed. "... He doesn't have a heart," he said. "That means he can't--"
"He does too!" she cried, then looked downcast. "He has most of it, at least. There are parts that are missing -- but I've been looking, I promise I have! It won't be long now, so please ..." She dropped into a sudden low pose, one that radiated quiet desperation. "Please don't hurt him. The Prince cannot die."
Cautiously, Sora let the crossed Keyblades lower just a little. The Nobody trapped just turned his head, watching the girl. "What do you mean, 'parts missing'?" he asked. "Either he has a heart or he doesn't, right? Listen, it's a horrible thing when someone loses their heart -- if the heart was strong enough, it leaves behind a 'Nobody' and those are -- they can't be allowed to just wander around, all right? They'll cause trouble--"
"No." The girl shook her head. "No, that's not true, it ..." She rose to her feet, then made a rolling gesture with both hands. "Will you dance with me?"
"... Huh?" He blinked. "I don't think this is the time for dancing--"
She shook her head and smiled gently, holding a hand out to him. "Please," she said. "Dance with me."
Before he could quite stop himself, he let both Oathkeeper and Oblivion vanish, and walked forward to take the girl's hand. It was small and thin in his own; under her skin, her bones felt fragile as glass. "I don't really know how to dance," he warned.
The girl just smiled. "I think you'll dance wonderfully," she said, and pulled him to her.
(There was a story a long time ago, where a kind and noble prince who fought a terrible raven that wished to cover the land in darkness. And in order to keep this from happening, to save the people of the kingdom he loved, he broke his heart into a hundred pieces, using it to bind the Raven in place.
But there was a princess who loved her Prince, and in order to help him regain his smile, she set out to search for the pieces of his heart, to return them one by one--)
"I don't get it," Sora said, as he caught the girl's tiny waist and lifted her in a graceful spin. "How are you telling me this? You're not--"
"Dancing is a language of its own," the girl said, and put her small hands on his shoulders. There was something sad and knowing in her eyes, and Sora had to wonder just exactly what his dance had told her. "You won't find your friends here. And Mytho is not the kind of creature you're so afraid of."
He swallowed. "Then where--"
She stretched up onto her toes, graceful as the flowing water, and kissed his forehead. "You'll find them," she said. "Just ... not here."
++++++++++
moonsheen: Okami/Bleach"Ken-chaaaaaaaan!"
Those who knew better got out of the way of the pink blur tearing across the division complex; those who didn't were trampled underfoot.
"Ken-chan! Keeeeeen-chan! Ken-chan Ken-chanKenchankenchankenchaaaan!"
Without looking up Zaraki stuck a leg out, so that she tripped over it and went flying. The jar she'd been carrying hit the ground and went rolling off. A moment later Yachiru scrambled to her hands and knees, crawling after it and grabbing it before it could roll off the ledge and be lost.
"Ken-chan!" she trilled, and held up her prize. "Lookit, lookit!"
"Ahhhhn?" Zaraki squinted. "... the hell's that?"
"I caught a sparkly bug!" she cheered, then shook the jar a few times. "See?"
He leaned down to get a better look. At the bottom of the jar was a tiny green speck, which glowed faintly. "Oi, Yachiru, I think it's dead."
"Ehhhhhhhh," she protested, then shook the jar again. "He's not! He's just sleepin'! 'Cos Ken-chan made me drop the jar!"
"If it's dead, it's dead," he said, and leaned back. "Throw it out 'fore someone forgets it's in there and uses it for booze."
Yachiru sat down, scowling at her bottle. "It was too alive," she grumbled. "Stupid sparkly bug." She shook the jar a few times, watching the thing inside rattle around. "You were saying really funny things before, too."
"You sayin' a bug was talking to you?" Zaraki raised an eyebrow. "Yachiru, you going nuts or something?"
She unstoppered the jar and turned it over, so that the thing inside dropped into her palm. With her other hand, she poked at it. "Mister sparkly bug, hello? Hellooooo~"
And then, abruptly, the bug jumped to its feet. There was a brief metallic noise, like a tiny sword had been drawn, and Yachiru yelped, pulling back to stick her finger in her mouth, closing her other hand into a fist. "That hurt," she protested. "If we're gonna play like that, it's not nice to pretend to be dead first! That's cheating!"
"Ain't cheating if you're actually paying attention," Zaraki said. "What, you're playing games with a bug now?"
From inside Yachiru's fist came a high-pitched muffled shriek, something like NOT A BUG or close to it. Yachiru blinked and shook her hand a few times before opening her fingers.
"Ah!" she cheered. "You're not dead, Mister sparkly bug!"
The thing on her hand began to bounce up and down furiously. "I told you!" a small voice squawked. "I'm no bug! I'm the great traveling artist, Issun!"
"Hmmm?" Yachiru tilted her head to the other side. "You look like a bug to me."
"Listen here, you blockheaded little brat, I am NOT--"
A strange breeze rippled across the compound. Zaraki looked up and put his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Hah!" the little creature cried. "It's about time! Honestly, you're so worthless without me, Ammy--"
Yachiru turned to peer over her shoulder, then squealed happily, tossing her original prize into the air; it bounced off the wall by Zaraki's head and dropped to the ground, twitching weakly. "Doggie!" she cried.
The wolf wagged its tail and tipped its head to one side. "Auf," she said.
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Plant prompts! -- a character and a plant, and I write XXXX words! OKAY GO.
white_aster: Shounen Onmyouji/Shadow Hearts, "black lotus"Rumors start in early winter, about a woman who gave birth to a monster. Nothing is very specific about who she is -- a minor noblewoman, a widowed peasant, an unlucky courtesan -- she's all these and more. Descriptions of the monster itself are more specific: man-shaped and man-sized, with pure white hair and glowing red eyes, it spoke with a tongue of honey and could entice men to ruin with its whispered seductions. The younger courtiers and princesses put their heads together and murmur back and forth, so that the legends grow and change until it seems the entire court lives in scandalized anticipation of being visited.
As it turns out, the rumors leave out a vital part of things: how easily the creature can change its shape, going from man to woman and back again as it sees fit.
It sits aside Guren's hips and rests its ordinary human hands upon his shoulders and croons something at him, a song he may have known once upon a time, and its face is familiar as his own and infinitely more beloved, though the sneer twists it and makes it unfamiliar, unpleasant, and Guren cannot lift a hand against it as it rides him slow and hard and laughs deep in its throat the entire time.
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hiza_chan: Alex cornerverse (Kingdom Hearts), "mistletoe"Destiny Island is too hot for anything except for tropical plants, but when they arrive on a heavily-forested world, where the air is cool and smells of wet greenery, Kairi breaks away from the others to wander to the foot of a young oak tree.
To her surprise, Alex follows.
"Not bad, isn't it?" he says, with his hands in his pockets and looking up into the tangled branches overhead. "We used to keep some of that with us whenever we traveled, for good luck."
"Oak?" She blinked at him.
He reached up, over her head, and snapped something off the branches -- a gold-green curl of something that oozed sticky white sap at the broken ends. "Mistletoe," he says. "To protect against poison, and --" here he winks, sly -- "to get lucky."
She rolls her eyes at him. "That's so--"
He reaches out and threads the end of the vine into a loose buttonhole. For a moment, his expression is oddly serious. "You never know," he says, "when this sort of thing will come in handy."
++++++++++
sister_coyote: Kingdom Hearts (Kairi), "thistle"She remembers that someone (a large man, with a stern craggy face and dark brown hair, someone she thinks she should remember better than she does) gave her a little patch of in the back of one of the gardens, to do with as she pleased. She'd wanted to grow sunflowers, like she saw down in the market -- large lovely things, little pieces of the sky she could hold in her hands. And her uncle had indulged her, buying her seeds that she planted in the rich black earth and watered diligently every day.
What she got instead were pale, silver-green bristly things, with wiry purple fuzz at their tops. They weren't ugly, but they weren't what she wanted, and when she grabbed one in frustration to pull it out, sharp spines bit into her fingers.
And as she sucked her fingers, another person (one she wishes so hard she could remember more, because she knows he was signifigant, he was important, and his face is merely a blur) who came to her and stood beside her.
And he said, in his deep slow voice (while she looked up at him and squinted when the sun blocked out his face): "So even in your garden, Princess, unwanted things grow." And he turned his head a little, and she thought he might have been crying, even if it wasn't showing on his face.
... There are times when she is glad she doesn't remember as much.
++++++++++
harlecerule: Kingdom Hearts/GetBackers, "Marluxia" (he sorta counts, whut)"... this is just getting ridiculous," Ban said. "We've gotta start putting rules down for things we can retrieve. First off, dropping something off at a place that doesn't even really exist is just unprofessional, second, this is--"
"I think it's kinda neat," Ginji offered. "Like that thingy, that story with the giant venus flytrap that ate everything? You know? It used to sing something like, uh ..." He began to hum an off-tune melody. "Like that?"
Their target item in question looked pained, and adopted the pose of pinching the bridge of its nose with one hand. The vines supporting it writhed slightly. "I assure you," he said, "I'm much higher-quality than that."
++++++++++
chibimazoku: Shounen Onmyouji, "lotus"A grateful nobleman gives Masahiro a haori as a reward for casting out an onryou haunting his youngest daughter, dark blue in color and embroidered with lotus flowers in golden thread and the leaves in silver. It's probably worth more than the exorcism was really warranted, but Masahiro accepts politely and with proper humble gratitude.
"Hoh, not bad, not bad," Mokkun says, pawing at it a little, when they're back in Masahiro's room. "You'll look very dashing in this, won't you?"
Masahiro shrugs. "It's not so bad," he says. "But it's not really my style."
"Not so bad!" Mokkun huffs. "This is high-quality stuff, here! You should be more appreciative! What don't you like?"
"The lotus flowers," says Masahiro, looking straight at Mokkun when he does. "I like red ones better."
++++++++++
torsui: GetBackers (Ban), "aconite""Funny thing about that," he says. "Half the time people think this stuff'll kill a werewolf. Witches know better -- they use it to create wolves, when they want." He picks up the dried plants, with their paperthin flowers. And he looks at the terrified would-be target, crushing it to shreds in his bleeding fist. Asclepius hisses and shifts to counteract the tiny burning flashes of poison, and the poor bastard's eyes go wide as he sees the brief phantom flashes of scales.
"Snakes don't worry about things like that," he adds, and strikes.
++++++++++
cinnamonblood: Yuu*Yuu*Hakusho (Kurama), rosesWhen he returns to the Makai for the last time, he breeds watchdog roses to guard his den: vicious, thorny-vined things that move towards heat and could survive for months without water -- the blood of a single unlucky traveler could sustain a medium-sized bush for a year. He let them grow wild around the entire area, atuned so that only he was allowed to enter.
And he designed them to have small, bright red flowers that unfurled shyly come spring, sweet-smelling and brief, because red roses had been his mother's favorite.
++++++++++
yhibiki: xxxHOLiC/tactics, "clovers"Yuuko is sitting on the porch, drinking tea, when the ghost wanders through the gates.
He's a young man, though he doesn't appear to be at first glance, with his pure white hair; his eyes are red as her own. Unlike most Japanese ghosts, he has solid feet, and he uses these to make his way towards her. There's something cupped in his hand that he looks at until he's standing right in front of her.
"Hello," he says, smiling. "You're the witch who grants wishes, aren't you?"
"For a price," she agrees, eyes hooded. "Even ghosts have to pay."
He cocks his head, then smiles. He reaches out and presses the clover into her hand. There's a lingering warmth in his touch.
"I'll pay what I have to," he says, "if you make sure this gets passed on to the proper person."
She closes her long fingers over it and reaches to touch his cheek with her other hand. He smiles at her, almost ruefully, and closes his eyes.
When he's gone, Yuuko slides the ring of bells onto her wrist and gives it a brief shake, listening to them chime.
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calintz: Okami, "orchid"In Takamagahara, flowers bloom all year round, of all colors and types, never fading -- as time progresses, they simply vanish and are replaced by a new set. The cherry trees stay all year, but the rest all comes and goes. On slow afternoons, when summer stretches out into forever, the great goddess can be seen sleeping under the trees, with the moon-prophet beside her, playing long after the day goes to dusk and the fireflies have come out to play.
And sometimes if she returns with her kimoni in disarray and a spill of flowers in her long hair, tiny small orchids tucked behind her ears, the thirteen brush-gods turn their heads and say nothing.
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voodoobob: Kingdom Hearts, "ivy""So," Riku asked, "how are we supposed to get all the way up there?"
Sora walked about halfway around the tower, looking up at the summit as he did. After a moment, he stopped and dug his toe into the ground, grabbing a handful of the ivy covering the northern face and tugging. Leaves crunched, but the vines held steady. He turned and looked at Riku, grinning.
"Race yah," he said.
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... god that was a lot. o_oa
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I cooed, truly cooed over the TARDIS/Doctor one, it's just SO perfect, and now every time I watch that that's all I'll be able to think! The Tactics/GB cross over with Maria talking to Youko, well, suppose she's getting a new name, was so sadly sweet, oh, you do love playing with the "after Kan-chan's gone" don't you. Breaks me every time.
Oh, how I do so adore your stuff! Though when reading the little bits of GB you had, there was this little voice going "hmm, wonder if she'll ever finish that monstrously long wonderful h/c one"...I still think of that fondly from time to time, SO good, so EVOL for leaving it off where you did...^_^
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But the TARDIS/Doctor one really stems from my belief that it's not Rose who's really Bad Wolf, it's the TARDIS -- that, and I ship TARDIS/Doctor above all else in that show. XD His best and most beloved girl, after all!
... ahahahaha, and as for that GetBackers fic, that ... probably. Um. Needs some serious retooling before I can go on with it, because seriously? Damn if it wasn't totally unpolished and kind of scary for it. XD
I'm glad you liked these, though♥♥♥
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O, Guren, your life ain't so hot most of the time. >_> 8D
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Also, I notice that I still don't have a crossover fic. :PFrom:
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I KNOW I KNOW I'M SORRY, I TRIED. T___________T Is, is there something else I could write for you instead? Mea maxima culpa? T_____T
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Wishes Yuuko didn't grant, from the following people: Haruka, Yuri, Ban, Muraki, Clow.
See, it's kind of cross-overy anyway. :D (Or just pick your favorites if it's too many and you don't think I calculated the interest correctly.)
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Or maybe not, because for a moment Tatsumi pauses, still with his face in Morinaga's shoulder. That's so them! You nailed Morinaga and Tatsumi perfectly!
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Actually, I expanded it a little now so that it can stand more on its own than it was before -- but eeee, I'm so glad you liked it! :D Of everything that's in this post, that was the one I worried the most over (first fic for a new fandom = scary D:). The fact that you liked it is such a relief♥
D'you mind if I crosspost?
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♥ I'm glad you liked it~ :D
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Um...*glances sideways*...I sorta stalk you...and added you to my friends list...a certain other LJ user/fanfic writer pointed me in your general direction and I fell in love with your fics...and...er...
Your work is awesomeness and rocks like the fishies! *holds up a giant foam hand and waves it*
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I'm glad you liked my stuff enough to friend me♥ Unfortunately, since I know quite a lot of other ficcers on LJ, I can't say I actually know who recommended me to you -- but I'll say a thank-you in general. :D
Nice to meet you♥ Thank you for reading my fics!
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Me: *love!*
People have been suggested D.Gray-Man and Death Note, and GetBackers season one is (sadly) collecting dust in my closet. But I WILL get around to checking them out.
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Honestly, I never got that far in Death Note, but I'm a big fan of D.Gray-man and GetBackers (the latter being my ultimate dorky pick-me-up everyone's-okay! story pretty much ever). I tend to be fond of dumb shounen, even if the long drawn-out "we'll fight to get stronger!!11!1" arcs tend to get boring after a while. XD
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Posting way after the fact...
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Re: Posting way after the fact...