Never lost, never found

Virtual Reality -/- Yu-Gi-Oh!

2008-05-07T19:07:11Z

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Title: Virtual Reality
Warnings: None.
Notes: For 78_tarot community challenge using prompt #15 - Devil.
Summary: And the worlds collided...

---

Virtual Reality

Bakura stared dumbfounded at the being in front of him, not being sure that the person he was seeing was real, even if he felt so. The world he had been thrown in was not real; he had sensed it upon entering this place.

"Who are you?" he asked sharply. Suspicious and distrustful, and slightly confused about the strange devilry that was at work in this strange space, Bakura was already trying to think of a way out, or a way to take control over this world by destroying it if need be.

A thin, superior smirk was his answer before the child-like being spoke, sounding all too smug for the Thief's liking. "I am the one who created this world."

"You don't look like a god," Bakura snapped, feeling annoyed and slightly insulted. Only gods could create, and he had never heard of any who would willingly sport the physique of a twelve-year-old child.

"God?" Noa laughed amusedly before tilting his head and pondering Bakura's words. He had thought of it himself before and liked to view himself as such for he had created the Virtual World from nothing. He had taken bits of undeveloped materia that his father had played around with to make it a three-dimensional dwelling for his son. Noa had expanded on it and turned it into an independent multi-dimensional space, outside of the laws of physics, ether and time.

"Is it my appearance that troubles you?"

It was the right question to ask and Bakura's non-answer was the answer Noa had been expecting.

"If so," he spoke matter-of-factly, "that is easy to change." And right in front of Bakura's eyes he morphed. Shimmering like a passing glitch in the computer systems, he grew in height, age and looks, now bearing a striking resemblance to someone Bakura was already familiar with, and as the Thief's eyes widened, Noa smirked in satisfaction, knowing that he had picked his appearance well.

They were, after all, of the same family: Kaiba Seto and Kaiba Noa. Not blood-related, but related on an entirely different level. And from Bakura's initial reaction Noa could tell that his semi-uninvited guest would have quite a handful to think about and guess at.

"Welcome to my world," he laughed. "No one who enters here may ever leave."

The Sennen Ring flashed, Bakura ground his teeth in a sudden spur of anger, but the deceptive being was already gone and only his laughter trailed behind, echoing around him from all directions at once.

As much of a hindrance as it was, but several millennia old power was of no use here, in such a recent world that obeyed no laws of the aged outside world.

For The Reunion -/- FF VII: Advent Children

2008-04-29T21:25:00Z

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Title: For The Reunion
Warnings: Character death.
Notes: For 10settings community challenge using prompt #2 - on a roof. Written during a Chinese history lecture when I really should have been paying attention to the professor. But the fact that Yazoo looked up only after he shot Cloud bugged me more than the quickly changing emperors of Eastern Zhou.
Summary: On the brink of death, what do you really think about?

---

For The Reunion

Yazoo was the first one to reach the rooftop and there they were: one dead, the other dying high above the roofs of old ruined Midgar. The air had grown stale in his lungs and he was slowly suffocating even as Loz took a stand next to him. In the dying sunlight they could still see the green wisps of Kadaj's existence draining away. Moments, and he was washed away into the fading light; gone where his brothers could not follow. There was nothing left for them in this world now. No aim, no purpose, no reason. There was no anger, even. Only dead emptiness and cold determination to take this world down along with them, if they were destined to fall.

Yazoo knew that sanity was slipping, if it ever had even been there. For a brief moment between drawing another breath and lifting his Velvet Nightmare for one final shot he was allowed a glimpse of what was to come, a shadow of the future to be. Was this sudden vision a mercy, he could no longer tell. It was all futile; all was lost already. They had struck either too late or too soon and now there was no way back.

And yet Yazoo's body still moved as if on its own accord, no longer a subject to his mind's control. He realised more than saw his last target and the path the bullet would burn through the air quite clearly, as if someone had drawn a straight line from the barrel of his gun to Cloud's heart. No place for failure was left for him this time.

Then and there Yazoo knew that he would not miss, but would not hit him either.

Yazoo did not look. He did not have to. The path of the bullet was already written in the air, its target and trajectory long predetermined. For the first time in his short existence, there was no need for him to aim. He simply raised the gunblade, pulled the trigger and sent the bullet on its way.

The bullet flew. It hit. And it missed.

Yazoo smiled weakly. Their time had come to an end. He let the weapon fall and heard it clatter somewhere far, far below – so distant had all sounds become to him now.

The building seemed to be shaking under their feet when Yazoo finally raised his gaze to look at the one who had ended all purpose of their existence. Next to him Loz was heavily drawing breath, barely holding on his feet in the damaging rain. Together they looked at the brother who was not their brother, but rather their destined enemy from the very start. The two brothers were suffocating slowly and it was a task to even form a few words, but nevertheless...

"We'll go together," Yazoo said, knowing that it was not true, but for Loz's sake (though he, too, might have already realised that this was the end) he was willing to put up one final show before the curtain fell forever. Loz was saying something, but it did not matter anymore. Yazoo was thinking of a final spell to cast when Cloud struck back.

And strike back he did. Screaming in rage, no less, because he had not seen... Because he did not know...

It was all rehearsed beforehand, Yazoo thought, watching Cloud advance. And they played it out perfectly. Together, Loz and Yazoo had just the right amount of strength left to unleash one final parting spell: a fire that ruined everything it touched and left no building standing. Yet it would still miss, and Yazoo found that quite ironic.

Collision. Explosion. The end.

The three of them were finally free.

Fated -/- X/1999

2008-04-25T22:20:56Z

Fandom: X/1999
Title: Fated
Warnings: None. Worksafe.
Notes: Written for 10_whores community challenge, using the prompt #4 - calligraphy.
Summary: Two different destinies, but a handful of similarities.

---

Fated

Her life was all about mechanics, his – about spirits and souls, and while they could never fully understand each other, Subaru learned that each step he made had to be carefully measured lest he wanted to be misunderstood. It was not like Satsuki was hard to get along with: quite the contrary! The only problem was that she was too used to conversing with machines, too buried in mechanics and artificial intelligence to remember what it was like – to have another human than Yūto to talk to.

Machines had no emotions and Satsuki had none, either; only cold rationality. Subaru caught her eye because he seemed quite detached from this world, just passing things by and it was something new for her. It was new for him, too. Seeing her and learning more and more about her way of living, her way of viewing the world, Subaru came to realise that he was still human and his emotions had not disappeared. He was, in fact, still too human, and it made him wonder...

Despite all that, there was always a distance between them: something they could never overcome, and eventually they decided that it was for the better that way. And because of Beast, it was even better.

The machine created for Satsuki had eventually claimed complete ownership of her. It read her like a book, even controlled her on some level. It was quite unbelievable: an emotionless machine-like human and a human-like machine with emotions worked together as one, all boundaries lost and erased. Together they were complete and content, save for the strange longing and thoughts that visited Satsuki whenever she sat in the Beast, watching the passing lives of humans, observing death and birth, pain and joy, and she seldom wondered: how would it feel like, to be out there, to be a part of them. And then she pondered what purpose did life have if it was always preceded and followed by death?

On a strange level, she could understand Subaru who released the wandering souls and let them move on to the afterlife. But there was one thing she would never be able to understand: why would he try and risk his own life for someone else? Why would he try to save some human's (whom he did not even know, as mostly was the case) life if death would come to all in the end? Why let them live borrowed years?

Subaru did not try to explain it, did not try to convince her of his views on life because she never asked about it aloud. Satsuki only frowned and said nothing because somewhere deep down she understood (or thought to understand) that it was the only way he could live.

And when she finally spoke of it to him, Subaru's answer was simple.

"Someone has to do it."

But Yūto, when she asked him about it, told her something else.

"They don't want to die yet," he had said. "They think they still have many great things to accomplish in the future and dying has no place in it."

Their final meeting was very brief. Eyes trained on something only they could see, they passed each other in the street without stopping or halting in their steps. Satsuki did not see the similarities between them as humans, but rather the differences in the destinies laid out in front of them. She was fated to destroy and he was fated to salvage.

Through The Storm -/- Final Fantasy VII

2008-04-25T20:55:48Z

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Title: Through the Storm
Warnings: Worksafe for now.
Notes: Post-Dirge of Cerberus. Written for 16candles_fics community challenge, using the prompt #13 - Candlelit Loss. (This looks like it might turn into a multi-chapter fic.)
Summary: Small adventures, strange meetings and chances that need to be taken.

---

Through the Storm.

It was one of those evenings when a heavy storm raged in Midgar. The electricity had disappeared several hours ago and the city of Edge was drowned in darkness save for a few isles of weak candlelight.

Seventh Heaven was crowded. Many people had sought refuge in the bar, not wanting to face the raging forces of nature, and Tifa was busy mixing drinks while Yuffie danced throughout the room delivering them to the waiting customers. Even though the ninja did her best to lighten her friend's mood, a stiff smile was all she received for her efforts, but it did not put her down and did not stop from trying.

Even if things had seemed to be going good for a while and no one had threatened the Planet's existence for a good few years, lately that had started to change.

Cloud was still outside in the storm, possibly running a late delivery, but he was not the one Tifa was so concerned about. She knew that Cloud could handle a good storm and then some. This time, it was Vincent who made her worry.
After the Deepground, it had looked like everything would work out and he would finally become more open and more involved with his friends, as opposed to coming to aid only when the things got too rough. And yet, as the time went by, the ex-Turk started disappearing again.

And lately, so did Shelke.

Tifa's eyes turned towards the door in hopes that it would open any minute now to reveal a soaked-throughout Shelke on the doorstep. But that moment never came. The only time door opened was when a group of men decided to brave the storm and head home before their wives raised hell. Yuffie's tries to distract her were slowly becoming irritating, but she bit her tongue and said nothing, aware that her friend meant it well and was only trying to help.

Reno was walking down the street, cursing the weather and unresponsive people who still refused to acknowledge the growing influence of ShinRa Company. Sure, there had been hard times when people lost all trust in it and the number of employees fell under the count of five, when they were shunned and hated, but all the efforts put into cleaning its reputation was finally showing. More and more of the new and smaller companies were forced to realise that ShinRa Electric Company was not out of the market yet and was not going to back down any time soon.
But climbing back to the top was agonisingly slow. It was taking time; more than they had expected.

Reno cursed again, getting his mouth full of rainwater. He pulled his collar up higher and quickened his pace. Streets were empty and pitch-black, a seldom car speeding by and kicking up waves of dirty water from the puddles on the streets. He had already experienced one such cold wave and now preferred to stay on the far side of the sidewalks as close to the buildings as possible. It was practically the only way to find the way in the darkness, the weak candlelight coming from some windows being more of a distraction than help.

Therefore a flash of bright orange light drew his attention immediately. Following it, Reno found himself in a narrow alley slightly sheltered from the driving rain and the cold wind that was picking up the volume. The light was still flashing and narrowing his eyes, the Turk could see two figures caught up in a fight. For a moment he considered turning around and going back from whence he had come, having no intention of getting caught up in the local gang wars in such a lousy weather (not that he would fancy doing it in fine weather to begin with), but he recognised the wielder of the light-emitting weapons. Reno had seen the girl several times in the past few years when he was paying a visit to Seventh Heaven.

Just then the girl got overpowered and thrown to the ground, her weapons getting knocked out of her hands and clattering onto the asphalt ground. All sounds, including her silent cry of surprise and pain, were drowned in the rain. Now Reno simply could not walk away. Either Tifa or Cloud would kick his ass if the word got out that he had been near and had not helped. Reno had had enough troubles with them already to add one more.

Carefully, he moved forth in the darkness even though there was no need for stealth – rain and wind masked all sounds. The girl's strange weapon was still glowing in the dark, guiding him, and the redhead could see how the man leaned over the girl. Five steps, four, three, and he was already at the assailant's side and swiftly brought his EMR down on the back of the other's neck. Electricity crackled, sparks flew and the man collapsed.

Reno checked the girl for life signs before reaching for her weapon. Careful to not touch any of the glowing parts, he fiddled around with it until he figured how to turn it off. He replaced it in the holders strapped on the girl and picked her up, considering where to head now. Deciding that getting out of the rain was the current top priority, he kept walking down the alley and turned left around the first corner in his path. He knew the owner of a rather small and ratty inn in the area and as much as he hated staying in low-class places, this was not the time to be picky.

Once under a roof and settled in a small narrow room, Reno drew the curtain and sat down on an old and creaking chair. He supposed it would be smart to discard the wet clothes, but there was nothing he could change into, and the same thing applied for the girl whom he had put down on the bed and cowered with a blanket.

Wind howled and rattled the window; pipes gurgled and creaked, emitting faint warmth, and the three candles in the candleholder kept on flickering. Wax was slowly dripping down and onto the table by which Reno sat. One elbow propped up on the table, chin resting in his palm, he watched the girl sleep and shivered when a harsher breeze forced a wave of cold air inside the room. His wet clothes clung to his body and drained all of his warmth away. He had no wish to catch a cold, but there was nothing he could do about it.

Just as he was about to get up and do something about the situation, the girl opened her eyes. When her gaze turned to him, all he could come up with was, "Yo."

She did not respond.

"What's your name?" was the next thing that came to his mind and immediately sprung onto his tongue.

She gave him a long emotionless glance, though a spark of recognition passed through it. She had seen him before in Seventh Heaven. "Shelke."

"Reno."

"I know," she almost said, but withheld it. Indeed. She had heard his name mentioned on more than one occasion, along with Rufus ShinRa's name. No one in Seventh Heaven had been all too happy about his visits and considered it best to not get involved with their kind. But sometimes it was just too inevitable; like right now.

Reno wondered about the lack of emotions on her face and the lack of questions, considering the rather strange situation. In the dimly lit room he could not see how her hand was gripping the handle of her sabre, ready to put it to use any moment. He stretched his legs and leaned back in the chair, running one hand through his slowly drying hair.

"Looks like we're stranded for the night, yo."

Harsh patter of rain against the windowpanes confirmed his words.

Shelke relaxed, if only a little. "Isn't it getting uncomfortable in those wet clothes?"

Reno shrugged. "Got nothing to change into."

After that silence befell the room for a good while. Eventually, Reno's head started nodding despite his best attempts to stay awake and the coldness creeping up his back. He could feel cough building up in his lungs and cursed mentally. His boss would not be pleased if he landed sick at this point; there were too many things he needed to do and secure, and illness would slow down not only him, but the rebuilding of ShinRa company as well.

"You are tired," Shelke stated matter-of-factly.

"Smartass, yo," Reno mumbled under his nose, being jerked out of his drowsy state by the sudden sound of her voice.

"There is enough place on the bed, if you need sleep," she pointed out as if it were the most obvious thing in the word (which it were, in a way).

Reno stared at her in wonder, but was too tired and cold to dwell on it. Judging by her appearance, he considered Shelke a child, and thus thought of her words as of those of an innocent child. For a moment he seemed to have forgotten the fact that she was armed and had fought with a full-grown man earlier. He was cold, tired, and possibly already sick to care about anything else than warm bed.

Reno stood up and discarded his jacket and hung in on the pipes, hoping that it would dry sooner that way. He did, however, decide to keep his pants and shirt on, not feeling too comfortable in the presence of a child, as he saw it.

Shelke shuffled to one side of the bed shortly before Reno blew out the candles and moved to lie down with his back turned towards her. The redhead considered it to be his luck that there were two blankets and they did not have to share. He shivered a little until the bed and the blanket warmed up, and soon fell into deep slumber.

Shelke raised her head and studied the dark silhouette next to her for a while. No one can say what she was thinking at that moment. Soon she turned her back on him as well and adjusting the pillow on the way, pulled the blankets closer around herself to savour as much warmth as possible.

A good few hours might have passed before the storm outside started to die down a little. The patter of the rain grew softer, the wind quieted, and a faint light seemed to seep through the drawn curtain when Shelke finally drifted off to sleep. One her hand was still holding on to her weapon.

What the morning would bring them, no one could tell.

Bound By Nothing -/- Saiyuki

2008-04-25T17:42:43Z

Fandom: Saiyuki
Title: Bound By Nothing
Warnings: None. Worksafe.
Notes: Written for 10_whores community challenge.
Summary: "Carry nothing," he was told. But did he really hold true to those words?

---

Bound By Nothing

Genjo Sanzo did not often think about his predecessor Koumyou Sanzo. Ghosts of the past had no place in the world of the living, but they had a chance to return and haunt him when it was raining outside. It was the only time when Genjo Sanzo had no control of his mind and his memories.

All those long years he had lived according to his master's teachings, he still did. He knew not where he would end up, he did not care. But his road might have been predetermined on that day when Koumyou shielded him from death. From that day on, Genjo Sanzo had wandered around the world as if on a quest to avenge the person who had brought him up, the person who had made him into who he was now. Whether he was seeking for his own end or slaying demons in retribution – no one but himself could answer that.

He was bound by nothing, so he told himself. He kept on striding through life and repeating those words until those words bound him.

"Carry nothing," Koumyou had said. And Sanzo carried nothing but his vengeance and his tools to aid him in it.

"If you meet the Buddha, kill the Buddha." And he killed. Left and right, demons and anyone who got in his way; none survived his wrath.

"If you meet your father, kill your father." But could he, really? Could he kill Koumyou (who was the closest to a father he had ever had) if he suddenly stood in front of him alive again? Sanzo was still holding on to the memories of the orange paper plane against the clear blue sky. Would he be willing to banish the source of it? Could he raise his hand and erase it just as easily as he did with demons?

Was Sanzo really carrying nothing? And could he let go of all the things he had taken with himself into his life?

Or would he rather break those words, discard that belief and live life his own way, as he claimed to already do? If there was an answer to that, Sanzo never spoke of it. If he ever thought of all the things Koumyou had given him, remained nothing but questions and whispers of monks whose temple he had left to not return to again.

If the ghost of Koumyou followed him and weighed him down, there were no outward signs for it. Only Sanzo himself could answer that, but he had never been into talking and preferred silence over spoken words.

Sanzo kept on living, kept on being bound by nothing (outwards and maybe inwards, too), and allowed the ghost of his old Master come only when it was raining.

Icon Batch #10

2008-04-02T07:24:04Z

[#] Stock (24)
[#] Black Blood Brothers (10)
[#] Darker than BLACK (3)
[#] Death Note (1)
[#] FullMetal Alchemist (6)
[#] Ja-Dou Tenmou Yatan (5)
[#] Kingdom Hearts (1)
[#] Koori no Mamono no Monogatari (1)
[#] Mahou Tsukai Kurohime (34)
[#] Naruto (13)
[#] Yu-Gi-Oh! (4)
[#] Final Fantasy III (1)
[#] Final Fantasy IV (1)
[#] Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children (43)
[#] Final Fantasy VII: Dirge of Cerberus (52)
[#] Final Fantasy X, X-2 (16)
[#] Final Fantasy XIII (5)
[#] Final Fantasy Versus XIII (2)

Teasers:

- -

|| He's got your picture in his mind ||

[#] Textless icons are NOT bases.
[#] No direct linking, please!
[#] Comments are love.
[#] Credit is shiny.

Icon Batch #9

2008-03-13T19:40:43Z

[#] Stock [animals, flowers, items, nature, scenery, architecture] (120)

+ All pictures were taken by me. Please, credit.

Teasers:

- -

|| Some sort of window to your right... ||

[#] Textless icons are NOT bases. Please, do not alter.
[#] No direct linking, please!
[#] Comments are love.
[#] Credit is shiny.

Icon Batch #8

2008-03-05T16:16:50Z

[#] Random Stock [animals, fashion, flowers, items] (120)

Teasers:

- -

|| Thanks for the memories ||

[#] Textless icons are NOT bases. Please, do not alter.
[#] No direct linking, please!
[#] Comments are love.
[#] Credit is shiny.

The Way We Fall -/- FF XIII and FF Versus XIII

2008-03-02T00:23:31Z

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIII and Final Fantasy Versus XIII
Title: The Way We Fall
Warnings: None. Worksafe.
Notes: Written for 1sentence community challenge. I'm slightly unsure how to label this. Originally I was thinking a crossover since they seem to be two separate games and there is no indication of both canons' interaction.
Summary: They both live by different rules, they both fight for different reasons. So why do they seem to be each other's mirror reflection?

---

The Way We Fall

#01 – Comfort

When things got rough and they could no longer rely only on themselves, each other's closeness brought the reassurance they needed to continue fighting.

#02 – Kiss

The first one happened on pure accident – right after a battle in which they had lost sight of one another, wrongly assuming the other to have fallen, but once proven wrong, they had not been able to hold back their joy and relief, and it had resulted in a rather fierce kiss.

#03 – Soft

There were times when even the gentlest whisper could scare away the magic of the moment, so they tried to speak as little as possible on the nights when even the world seemed to be holding in its breath.

#04 – Pain

There were many things associated with pain in their past and they continued to fight if not to forget them, then to at least prevent them from happening again.

#05 – Potatoes

She would have believed him to be a couch potato, given how still and detached from this world he could look, if she had not seen him fight.

#06 – Rain

When it rained, Storm could stand at the top of the stairs and watch the water pelting down on the stone steps, while Lightning preferred to stay as far away from the humidity as possible.

#07 – Chocolate

Storm was not particularly interested in sweets and candy, but watching Lightning discover yet another delicious and foreign to her treat almost made him reconsider.

#08 – Happiness

They were almost always the smallest things that brought the most joy and made them feel the most alive; be it a nightly walk in the city or a friendly sparring match where they went all out on each other and showed off their skills.

#09 – Telephone

He never considered the need for a mobile telephone because there was barely anyone left to call, but after meeting her, he was starting to reconsider that decision.

#10 – Ears

He was fascinated by the fact that her ears were slightly pointed, and the lavishing attention he paid to them during their intercourse could almost be taken as obsession.

#11 – Name

"Call me... Storm," he hesitated only briefly before giving her the name, and she smirked in response, bent her head to one side in amusement and offered her own, "In that case, I'm Lightning."

#12 – Sensual

Every touch, each breath of air seemed to ignite them; swords clashed, bullets danced and their eyes burned because fighting was a dance as much as it was a passion.

#13 – Death

Death was always an option, an undeniable possibility always at their heels, and it could come any time, therefore they lived each day as it came, enjoying the time spent together and surviving the hours when they were separated.

#14 – Sex

When things came down to sex, they did not bother holding back: there was no time to spare; at least not until the last battles were fought and they had come out victorious.

#15 – Touch

One touch was never enough – it only brought a craving for more, but giving into it would mean a defeat that neither wanted to accept, nor admit.

#16 – Weakness

Sometimes they doubted themselves and their resolve, fearing that being so close and intimate with one another would create a huge weakness that their enemies could exploit.

#17 – Tears

There was nothing left to cry for in their lives and the occasional spurs of regret and sadness only motivated them to fight on instead of prompting them to give up, as some of their enemies hoped.

#18 – Speed

They were both tremendously fast and one of their favourite pastimes was trying to outrun each other, whether it was during a battle or a walk through the town – there was this strange thrill in turning everything into a challenge.

#19 – Wind

Sometimes his friends showed up and then Lightning was left watching the swirling clouds of dust created by the air currents in the wake of the quickly disappearing car; it was also the time when she returned to her own world because some battles could not be put off in favour of a fairytale they could never live out.

#20 – Freedom

Her freedom was in flight, in falling from the sky and high constructions; his freedom was taking the roads, heading in directions hitherto unknown and knowing that there would always be a place to return to.

#21 – Life

It was a fight, a war they had to win and were too afraid to lose, but the turns and twists it took were nearly impossible to predict, and in the end there were only the small things that they could change.

#22 – Jealousy

Storm would never admit it, but every time Lighting ran off to another fight with the blond guy whose name he never bothered to remember, he was ready to kill him then and there, but held back, aware that sometimes they had to fight in different battlefields.

#23 – Hands

A simple touch started it all; a small bolt of electricity, and they did not know what had happened, but the world seemed lighter all of a sudden.

#24 – Taste

She was spicy, sharp and colourful, he was like salt – nothing special, yet irreplaceable; and together they were the most perfect combination possible.

#25 – Devotion

They ruthlessly pursued their goals, striving to bring peace and order back, because anything else, anything less, could tear their worlds apart, though somehow they had started counting each other into their plans and did not think twice when helping the other meant abandonment of their primary goals.

#26 – Forever

There was no forever in their lives because their worlds were slowly falling apart and the battles they fought to prevent it, as endless as they seemed, were slowly drawing together and approaching the end that would either shatter all or salvage at least a small part of their lands.

#27 – Blood

After the battle, he looked over the stairs and the front yard of the imperial residence and saw nothing but death; and while the corpses could be removed and disposed of and the next rain would wash the blood away from the stones, the emptiness inside him would not cease, and Lightning advised him to not fight it, but accept it.

#28 – Sickness

The world was infected and sick because of the greedy people who sought unlimited power and tried to bring a new order to their worlds; both Lightning and Storm lived to fight them.

#29 – Melody

Having spent so much time near one of the crystals, Storm had learned to listen to them and when he told Lightning that he could hear it sing something unearthly, she looked away and admitted to having noticed it too.

#30 – Star

The Crystals were their guiding light, the star they would always follow and protect against everyone and everything because, to them, it was a reason to exist and fight for, the power that kept their worlds together.

#31 – Home

He had to protect his kingdom in spite of the constant threats, and anyone who got in his way had to pay the price, and she knew that and respected his resolve, very well aware that her decisions were not all that different from his.

#32 – Confusion

Their first meeting had been filled with mistrust and confusion because they came from different worlds and their enemies seemed to be nothing alike, but once it was established that they were all after the same thing, fighting side by side did not seem like that big of a threat anymore.

#33 – Fear

They had never felt much fear, but as the time went on, a small terror of losing each other was starting to form at the back of their minds, and it often entered their subconscious to make them fear and doubt, and question the other's motives and sincerity.

#34 - Lightning/Thunder

He decided that her codename was rather fitting for her personality – her attacks were quick and powerful and keeping up with her was always a treat he enjoyed very much.

#35 – Bonds

More often than not, they doubted the connection between them and stability of their relationship to be long-lasting because there was always that silent voice at the back of both their minds that whispered about it continuing only for as long as they had common reasons to fight for.

#36 – Market

She had already had some not very nice experience with different and dangerous places, including markets where you could buy absolutely everything – from old and broken devices to slaves –, but for him everything outside of the world he was used to was new and intriguing.

#37 – Technology

Lightning took great interest in technology, swiftly learning the ways it could be utilised to her advantage and never passed up on an opportunity to learn about the latest upgrades and inventions, and Storm would always stand by, leaving her to her own devices and silently pondering the passionate expression on her face.

#38 – Gift

At one point in their lives the biggest gift they could have was finding each other's eyes in the middle of another bloodbath and making sure the other was still alive, but with time it became all too little and the need for more made them seek a different type of contact.

#39 – Smile

Ever since Lightning had come into his life, Storm found himself smiling more and more often.

#40 – Innocence

They both had seen the innocence of children breaking, had watched tragedies unfold in front of their very eyes, unable to do anything to stop them, and whenever they found a corner of their worlds untouched in all of its primitive beauty, they were willing to believe that some things could still be salvaged.

#41 – Completion

There would be no completion in their lives until they each won their respective wars or died trying, and even in that final option they could only find peace, and never the absolution they sought.

#42 – Clouds

She liked watching how clouds passed overhead, reflecting on the events of her life and smiled, realising that, while there were still many battles to fight and even if things changed and this word became unrecognisable, there would always be a Storm to return to.

#43 – Sky

As Lightning put it, sky was good for falling from, and Storm laughed, countering with an argument that, in a way, it was also giving them light.

#44 – Heaven

He asked her once whether she believed in afterlife and she frowned, not understanding what he meant; death was death and that was all she wanted to know.

#45 – Hell

Their battlefields were hell on earth; waste islands of death and destruction and broken lives, but for them there simply was no other way of living.

#46 – Sun

It did not matter to her whether he worked in broad daylight or in pitch blackness; if she ever ran out of light, an explosion or two fixed that problem, and Storm could do nothing but shake his head in wonder.

#47 – Moon

Storm had the tendency of wandering around the city on moonlit nights and Lightning tried to wait for his return, but was not patient enough and always ended up going out to look for him, but could never track him down; all too often she would turn around and find him leaning against a wall, looking at her with an unreadable gaze.

#48 – Waves

Every now and then there were those on-floods of inexplicable happiness that neither of them could explain, but with time they became more and more frequent and they no longer sought an explanation for the feeling of completion and of finality they had while being together.

#49 – Hair

She laughed about his hair – its colour and how it stuck out in all directions at the back of his head –, but he never minded it because he found it quite amusing himself.

#50 – Supernova

...and when their death finally came, they were both hoping for it to be something grand and blindingly powerful; to leave this life the same way they had lived – that was their one hidden prayer on the days when everything seemed to be getting only worse and the events were rapidly spiralling down to something that could only be defeat.

Icon Batch #7

2008-03-01T12:47:29Z

[#] Bleach (7)
[#] Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children (28)
[#] The Last Remnant (17)
[#] Magna Carta (38)
[#] Shounen Onmyouji (25)
[#] Yu-Gi-Oh! (28)
[#] Random (21)

Teasers:

- -

|| Into the bright light! ||

[#] Textless icons are NOT bases. Please, do not alter.
[#] No direct linking, please!
[#] Comments are love.
[#] Credit is shiny.

Icon Batch #6

2008-02-26T23:50:47Z

[#] Bleach (10)
[#] Code Geass - Hangyaku no Lelouch (5)
[#] The Last Remnant (18)
[#] Night Head Genesis (2)
[#] Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children (30)
[#] Final Fantasy VII: Dirge of Cerberus (9)
[#] Final Fantasy Agito XIII (6)
[#] Final Fantasy Versus XIII (9)
[#] random Final Fantasy (4)
[#] Yu-Gi-Oh! (3)

Teasers:

- -

|| If you're the rain, what am I? ||

[#] Textless icons are NOT bases.
[#] No direct linking, please!
[#] Comments are love.
[#] Credit is shiny.

Random drabbles; Set #2

2007-11-30T12:14:35Z

There was once a drabble meme. And here are the last six drabbles, all 100 words in length as promised.
Forgive the lateness. ♥~

For louissinclaire
Characters: Oogami Souma and Sumeragi Hokuto (Kannazuki no Miko and X/1999)
Prompt: my baby shot me down

She was a lightning bolt – dashing through his life and illuminating every smallest corner before disappearing again. But she left behind imprints that could never be erased; eternal marks that burnt inside him even when she was gone.

He had thought he would never love anyone else than Himeko, but Hokuto's appearance and the things they had talked about made him realise a few things. Love did not disappear. It only changed.

And even though Himeko would always have a very special place in his heart, it was time for him to move on. It was time to find happiness.

For tenchi_saz
Characters: Abe no Masahiro and Sumeragi Subaru (Shounen Onmyouji and X/1999)
Prompt: Fools in love

They were both of the same kind – sealing spirits and ridding world of evil beings that caused a threat to humanity. And they were in love and suffering; one more than the other.

They knew it was a futile battle because evil tended to spread faster than they could eliminate it; they were fools for even trying, but someone had to do it lest they wanted the world get destroyed.

And they fought side by side, ofuda flashing and incantations sounding out in the wind because someone had to fight. In the end, trying was the only thing that counted.

For starherd
Characters: Tsubasa and Tifa Lockheart (Kannazuki no Miko and FFVII: AC)
Prompt: It's only when I lose myself in someone else
That I find myself

She was devoted to a childhood friend, he – to his younger brother. And they both had found a reason to continue fighting for themselves only after they had crashed and burnt for someone else.

Never before had Tifa thought how easy getting along with a cold-blooded murderer could be. From Tsubasa she learned that silence was more of a weapon than weakness and one of the best partners on a battlefield.

Whenever Tsubasa looked at her, he was reminded of Chikane; Tifa was just as steadfast and determinate. And maybe, he thought, maybe this was his second chance at life.

Characters: Shirou Kamui and Ran Ryuuren (X/1999 and Saiunkoku Monogatari)
Prompt: What kinda creature do we have here
It feels like love, but it smells like fear

Kamui did not know what to think of him. He was not the kind of person he was used to seeing everyday. He was so concerned about saving the world from destruction that he could not understand how Ryuuren could waste time wandering around or just sitting on some rooftop and playing that horrible flute.

Ryuuren found Kamui amusing, if not pitiable. The sound of the flute kept away the evil and while he was playing it, no one would come. Though he was not going to stay for long. The winding roads and distant horizons were calling him again.

For e_elf_alchemist
Characters: Tsuzuki Asato and Ran Shuuei (Yami no Matsuei and Saiunkoku Monogatari)
Prompt: You make me so hot
Make me wanna drop
You're so ridiculous
I can barely stop
I can hardly breathe
You make me wanna scream
You're so fabulous
You're so good to me, Baby

Tsuzuki found his eyebrow twitching in irritation. Shameless advances were nothing new to him; he had had enough experience with Muraki. But this guy – no matter how persistent – was different than the insane murderer. Still, it was annoying as hell to get nearly molested every time they met, to even be look at in that particular way.

Shuuei found the situation highly amusing. Embarrassing people was an art and he had practiced it countless of times with his closest friends, the emperor included. It was a game he enjoyed to play; something to brighten up the dullness of everyday life.

For autumntwiliight
Characters: Shi Ryuuki and Ran Shuuei (Saiunkoku Monogatari and Saiunkoku Monogatari)
Prompt: Footsteps outside somewhere below,
the world revolves,
I've let it go

The emperor was straying again, his gaze distant and unfocused.
Shuuei could easily guess that it was Shuurei occupying his mind now.

"Emperor," he drawled in his usual teasing manner, "the work won't do itself."

There was no reaction and Shuuei opted to walk up to Ryuuki. "Emperor," he tried again. "Should I do it instead?"

Again, silence.

"Emperor!"

Finally, Ryuuki snapped out of his daydreams. "What? Oh, yes. Yes."

"Very well." Shuuei leaned down, swiped emperor's hair aside and pressed a kiss to his neck.

"Shuuei, what--" Ryuuki started, but Shuuei silenced him.

"Just doing the job, Majesty."

Obsession -/- Yami no Matsuei

2007-11-24T18:48:32Z

Fandom: Yami no Matsuei
Title: Obsession
Warnings: A bit of violence, sexual hints. And ridiculously long sentences.
Notes: Written for 1sentence community challenge. 6,113 words long, approximately 122 words per sentence.
Summary: He is Muraki's reason to seek revenge and the cause of his insanity. He is Saki.

---

Obsession

#01 – Air

Muraki placed his palm against the cool glass surface and stared at his brother's remains suspended in the green liquid, wondering if it felt suffocating – being enveloped in something viscose, something other than air – and if his brother was able to feel anything at all, but Saki was in no position to answer him and even though his spirit lingered nearby, it remained silent and unyielding, and Muraki leaned in closer to the strange safe-hold for his most precious person in this world; he pressed his cheek to the glass and whispered silent promises to the damp and empty air around him, hoping that he could be heard, wishing that he could reach beyond death to haunt his brother's spirit much in the way his brother's spirit was haunting him now.

#02 – Apples

When Saki had been in a nice mood, they had shared apples; his older brother would always cut them into eight equal pieces and then they would play a little game for each piece, and they would both win and lose, and fight and steal from one another, laughing happily and carelessly like only children can, until Muraki's mother came and led him away and into her room where she would dress him up and they would have tea and apples, but the ones mother gave him were always bitter and little Muraki would always feel like his mother was jealous because he spent so much time with Saki and because he liked Saki's apples better.

#03 – Beginning

It had started the very first time they met – some kind of a spark had passed between them, igniting the air and making it hard to breathe and even harder to think – and they had never been able to decide what it was; not even the passing years could bring an answer and the more Muraki thought about it, the more the line between love and hate, devotion and obsession blurred and mixed together until he wanted to murder and revive his older brother in one and the same breath – wanted to revive him to murder again because it was hard to deal with his thoughts, emotions and memories, and no one else held the answer but the severed head of his brother that was now floating in a tank full of organic green substance, helpless and vulnerable – something Saki had never been when still being alive.

#04 – Bugs

...and he remembered how his older brother would collect bugs from their garden, put them into jars and close their lids tightly, and then forget about them, leaving the bugs to die under the scorching rays of sun; and Muraki would always sneak around the bushes, waiting for his brother to walk away before he dashed to free the poor creatures from their suffocating imprisonment, yet somehow he had always ended up playing with them, burying them alive, and impaling them on pieces of grass and small twigs until the jars were all empty and the bugs were all dead...

#05 – Coffee

The rich dark liquid burned a path down his throat, but he needed it at the moment because he was half-asleep and he was seeing ghosts that had never haunted him before, and one of those ghosts was someone he wanted alive and dead at the same time; and he knew it was a contradiction, but he could not help himself and the strange mixture of love and hate he felt for his brother, aware that there was only one way to sort out his feelings and that his brother would be waiting for him at the end of the road to answer all of his questions and fulfil all of his wishes, and all Muraki needed to do was wait it out, except... he did not want to wait...

#06 – Dark

In his childhood, he had never been afraid of the darkness, never been upset when he had to spend the nights alone in his room, but it all had changed once Saki entered his house, his life and his world and brought about so many changes that it made little Muraki uncertain, made him doubt his place in his family, made him question the love of his parents, even love as such – not believing its existence – and Saki did everything to reinforce his doubts and his worry, and he worked to ruin the thrill and familiarity of darkness, making him fear it, making him fear being left alone, being pushed aside and getting forgotten... it was then that Muraki learned to hate.

#07 – Despair

Sometimes Muraki felt despair creeping up to him (but he would never admit it), its claws drawn out and ready to strike, and at times like those, he always found himself staring at his half-brother's remains, wondering if he would ever find a body suitable for his needs, someone who would last long enough, but Saki was a very quiet company – one of those worth keeping –, he never said a word, never gave any sign of life; eventually, confidence would return to Muraki again, and he would walk away from his brother and out of the room and into the daylight to resume his desperate hunt for another body, for another hope, for another chance...

#08 – Doors

He had closed all doors to salvation a long time ago and did not regret his choice because now there was no need for it, no need to be saved, no way to turn back and undo the things he had done to other people and mostly to himself, and it was all his half-brother's fault – at least that was Muraki's reasoning – and it was his conviction, his mantra, his religion, his drive to mutilate and mindlessly slaughter more and more people; it was like a cry to Heaven, a cry for redemption, but it was not absolution he sought, no, – it was damnation he craved... craved so much that he was ready to kill for it... and he killed and craved, and killed and craved, and it was a never-ending loop that he could never get out of.

#09 – Drink

Most of the time Muraki avoided drinking any liquids when he was near Saki's container because it always made him wonder what it could feel like – being submerged into that green liquid; would he feel like drowning, would he panic once he realised that he could no longer breathe, would his mind scream at him to get out, to flee – it was all courtesy of the first time when Muraki had been sitting across the room and staring at his brother's remains, absentmindedly lifting a cup to his lips for a small sip of water, and the lights had blinked out and for a moment the doctor had thought his brother was looking at him, and then there had been this suffocating feeling as if he was being pulled under water, as if he was choking and drowning; the cup had fallen from his shaking hand and he had fled the chamber even before it shattered on the ground.

#10 – Duty

He always returned to him, came back to the one who had him bound in the worst ways possible because he could never leave him for something else, for someone else: Saki had made sure he would never be able to break away from the cage he had created, as unintentionally as it had been, but Muraki still blamed him, yet could never turn around and walk away from his duty, from the obligation to bring his older brother back, to let him believe in another chance at life and then watch the expression in his eyes and on his face change when he realised that the only purpose, the only reason his resurrection had was another delivery of death.

#11 – Earth

Muraki could very well remember what the soil falling through his fingers, crumbling into pieces and leaving stains on his hands had felt like, what it had smelled like – old moisture and death and life all at the same time – and he had cursed everyone living, every last person walking this earth, but most of all himself for being too weak to do anything; on that night he had sworn to become stronger, to not stop until he had gotten strong enough for his revenge, so strong that the power of it would shatter the entire world if he so wished... and somewhere deep down inside he realized that, if he ever got that far, Saki would be the one to thank for and to blame.

#12 – End

He had seen so many lives ending that he had long since lost the count of the times when it had been done by his own hand, yet no matter who died, no matter which one of his little experiments came to a tragic end, there was only one life that he wanted to see ending for a second time and it was his brother's; the first time many years ago meant nothing to him anymore – this time he wanted to be the one who delivered the most fitting ending for the murderer of his parents and childhood, the murdered who had made him, Muraki, into a murdered as well.

#13 – Fall

...and he had fallen on his knees and screamed out his rage and fury right next to their graves, his fingers digging into the fresh damp soil, clenching it in his fists and squeezing it tight, seeking to hurt, to punish, to destroy, to find relief in this act of anger and despair, to find liberation and some kind of hope, but there was nothing and he was all alone and lost, and scared, and he started to hate with a passion that took his breath away, that made him see black spots swimming in front of his vision and his mind cloud over and fill with red haze; it was blood-thirst that sung in his veins when he left the cemetery, traces of dried tears stinging his cheeks.

#14 – Fire

He had burnt so many bridges already that it no longer made a difference how many more he had to burn; but there would always be that last one that he was forced to keep, that bound him to memories far too precious and cherished and at the same time so despised that more often than not he felt torn in two – one part of him wanted to bring back, to restore the distorted sense of harmony he had had in his childhood while the other part wanted nothing but to destroy every last token of his past – and he was always in the middle of it all, hating and loving, and losing himself to something greater than human emotions.

#15 – Flexible

Muraki had early discovered that some rules of logic could be bent and melded to one's will, that some laws of physics could be disrupted and cancelled by utilising higher forces and more advanced magic, and as a child he had wondered if there was a way around death, a possibility to escape it or stop it; he had started treating this last issue seriously only after Saki had been killed by one of the guards and his young soul had first felt the singeing touch of bloodlust and the powerful thirst for revenge that mulled all senses and made him see red before his eyes – then and there beating death had become his one true goal.

#16 – Flying

Every child has entertained thoughts of flying, but as a child, Saki had been afraid of it, afraid of flying with aeroplanes, just as he was afraid of ships and boats, but now, after his death, he found that none of that fear was present – he was flying, floating, hovering and gliding way above earth, only sometimes coming down to take a glance at his younger brother; he was bound by a curse, suspended between worlds and waiting for Muraki to call upon his soul to transplant it into a new body, and Saki dreaded that moment and hated his helpless position, no longer being able to decide what would happen, and even though he should have accepted such a fate since he was no longer alive, no longer human... he could not.

#17 – Food

There was no need for food anymore, no need for drink or sleep, or even rest because Saki was nothing but a spirit hanging on to past memories and his own remains, floating somewhere between two worlds and waiting for one of them to call out to him, to finally accept him and let him move on, but it did not happen; a few times he was brought close to the world he had abandoned by force – a price for the act of insanity he had done –, but what he saw there did not ease his soul – he saw his younger brother, read his intentions, and did not know whether he was afraid of being dragged back into a corporeal form only to die moments later, or was he actually looking forwards to it, knowing that it was his last debt to pay, the one thing that kept him semi-bound to Earth, the last tie that had to be severed for him to be able to move on...

#18 – Foot

Muraki was always walking paths no one else before him had dared to step foot on, treading in absolute darkness and far beyond places others could even begin to imagine, seeking for knowledge unheard of even by the oldest and wisest men of the planet, tampering with the kinds of magic that were not supposed to be in existence, thirsting for revenge on his half-brother, striving for a second chance unlike anyone else had ever wished for... and succeeded; he had gone farther than anyone else before, learned more than anyone else before, seen power unrivalled by anything else, and once he would find the perfect sacrifice, the moment of revenge would be within a reach.

#19 – Grave

Muraki had literally ripped his older brother from his grave, not willing to let go of him, to let Death claim him, no, – he wanted Saki for himself, wanted and craved enough to engage in a battle against the Death itself intending to win, and had been doing quite well all this time; but there were moments when inexplicable fear gripped at his heart, forcing him to all but run to the container in which his brother was suspended and press his hands to the cold glass and whisper, whisper... words of love, words of hate, desperate pleas, heated threats, until he calmed and quieted down, eyes slipping shut and head coming to rest against the container, his skin feeling cold and clammy, and his body wrecked with small shivers.

#20 – Green

The pale green liquid seemed to glow from within, illuminating Muraki's face as he stood in front of the large glass container, watching, studying the remains of his older brother, and Saki's spirit – still somewhat bound to the pathetic remains of his once very capable body – drew closer upon seeing that angelic face with such unholy fire burning in those eyes and reached out, willing to touch, but his ghostly appendage of a hand slid past the pearly white cheek, nothing but draught in this world; Muraki shivered and stepped away from the container.

#21 – Head

Because it was all that was left of him – a head immersed in transparent light-green liquid and held in place by long thin steel needles, waiting for Muraki to do his bidding; and some part of him knew it, was aware of it – somewhere, from the other side where he was at the moment, the place that was not quite hell, and not really purgatory either –, he knew what was happening, what would happen eventually, knew what his brother wished for, and he did not know whether he was welcoming it or loathing the moment of his second return.

#22 – Hollow

There was emptiness inside him that only Saki could fill up and, as the time went by, the void only seemed to stretch and grow until – as it seemed to Muraki – there was nothing left of him but a shell that encased perpetual darkness, an unfathomable abyss that could never be filled again, not even if Saki was brought back to life; the doctor gazed at that handsome face, studying familiar features that he had grown to both love and hate over time, and it seemed to him that his older brother was smiling deviously, as if about to say, "Now, can you see what I can do to you? Even if I'm dead and you're alive, see what I can do to you? What I am doing to you?", but the words never came and silence was the only thing that reigned between the two brothers.

#23 – Honor

He should have been honoured, he really should have, because what his younger brother was doing for him was more than love and devotion, more than faithfulness and adoration, – it was a sick obsession, an undying kind of thing, something beyond love and hate, beyond revenge and absolution, and it was all for him and him alone; Muraki stood in front of the transparent cylinder, glaring at his brother's remains heatedly because he dared to look so peaceful in his eternal sleep, and the doctor did not think it to be fair when he was here alone, a tempest of thoughts raging in his mind.

#24 – Hope

Oh, how he hoped to touch his brother again, to have his hands on his body, his brother's mouth against his own, their breaths becoming one, their souls melding and fusing until they were one being; Saki reached out to his younger sibling, wanting to touch that stiff back, to tousle that silvery hair, to trace invisible patterns along his skin, but he was out of reach, always out of reach and so far gone that sometimes it seemed as though Muraki was the one who had died, leaving him alone in this cold and cruel world.

#25 – Light

The underground laboratory was filled with shadows, the only light sources positioned around the hard glass case, softly illuminating it at all times, and Muraki stopped in front of the container to watch honey-brown strands slowly float about in the sea-green liquid; he had almost forgotten how his brother looked with his face bathed in sunlight, a happy smile on his lips and his gaze wandering across the sky, eyes closing, mute laughter making his delicately curved eyelashes tremble, but, even if it was a rare and very treasured memory, Muraki had come to realize that he enjoyed seeing his brother in the current position a lot more.

#26 – Lost

...and he was lost again, struggling to keep his inner demons under control, trying to sate his urge to kill while fighting the other urges with desperation because he couldn't, he just couldn't run to his older brother for saviour the way he had done as a child; he had clung to him tightly, hate or no hate, and wanted to be held, to be embraced tightly and kept safe until everything passed, and he would gladly feel those hands never loosening their grip.

#27 – Metal

Glass, plastic and metal were the things that housed his remains, that kept him safe, held him captive; sometimes, if he concentrated hard enough, he could feel those sharp needles sticking in him, a ghost of pain lingering somewhere far, far away, at the very back of his mind, because he had forgotten what was pain, forgotten what was feeling altogether, yet the presence of his younger brother always brought about that strange ache in the area where his heart had once resided.

#28 – New

It was not exactly new, this feeling, it just was... different, and that was what confused him; Muraki frowned and concentrated on the files he was browsing through, but something pulled at his mind and drew his gaze in the direction of the glass cylinder and the shadow looming inside it, and the doctor fought it, this strange urge to get up and approach his brother's place of resting, only to find it growing in strength, trying to consume him until he gave in and became enslaved (but he was already long gone and did not belong to himself anymore).

#29 – Old

This dance must have been as ancient as time itself, the way their lips met, fingers entwined, and eyes closed, hot and at the same time cold shivers making their nerves tingle as their bodies moved in a perfect rhythm against one another, skin slick and sensitive to the touch, short needy breaths escaping their mouths while the world spun and blurred, leaving them teetering on the edge, and they were moaning one another's name, desperately craving the sinful touch and shamelessly begging for more; Muraki awoke with a start and a vile curse passed his lips, – Saki haunted not just his waking hours...

#30 – Peace

There had never been any real peace between the two of them even if it had seemed that way; their whole relationship was built on constant warlike incidents that spawned outbursts of rage and insatiable thirst for revenge, but, as Muraki stood in the dim underground laboratory and looked at the glass coffin he had constructed for his brother, there finally was peace and quiet, Saki subdued and trapped, and rendered helpless, and it brought a devious smile on the younger brother's lips because now he was in complete control.

#31 – Poison

It was hard to say which one of them was more dangerous to the other, but Saki in his current position was no opponent for Muraki who had gone and gotten himself rotten to the core, lusting for bloodshed and thirsting to feel death passing through his hands, and every night he would come to his side and tell a fairytale about another life getting blown out like a candle, claiming that it was all because of his older brother, for his older brother whom he loved so; Saki's soul, too, could tell stories of its own, feeling his half-brother's venom seeping into him more and more as the days fled and the nights crept upon him, longer and darker, and lonelier that the previous ones...

#32 – Pretty

His brother was pretty, Muraki admitted, his good eye narrowing in slight displeasure, even now, when the only things remaining in this world were his head and spinal cord (or maybe that was exactly the reason why); Muraki remembered having asked his older brother once if he thought he was pretty and Saki had looked at him, one long and hard look, and said no, but later in the night when thunder was rolling deafeningly loud, and wind was howling against his window, and lighting was tearing the dark sky apart, little Muraki had ran to his older brother, looking for shelter, for someone who would hold him through the night, and Saki had wrapped his arms around him, held him close, and whispered, "You are so beautiful."

#33 – Rain

Whenever it rained, Muraki found himself aimlessly wandering in the cemetery until his feet carried him over to his brother's grave, and then he stood there, staring at the headstone and thinking of what was underneath it – the coffin with his brother's remains, the body that had both made his world crumble and lifted him to new heights of which he would have never even dared to dream of before; torrents of water beat down on the twisted doctor and he considered going home, thinking (but not without a good deal of sarcasm) that he was such a lucky person – whether at home or in the cemetery, his beloved brother was always within a reach, confined and bound, so that he could not escape even in death.

#34 – Regret

He knew not the meaning of this word despite having heard it used left and right, despite having pretended that he was feeling the emotion they called 'regret', because he regretted nothing, did not consider having done anything that warranted this feeling, until... until he stopped in front of the container in which his brother's head was suspended – only then did that feeling, that twisted voice of conscience slam into his chest, stealing his breath for a moment and making his mind reel – and finally he regretted... regretted not having killed his older brother with his own hands...

#35 – Roses

The reason why Muraki was so very fond of roses (especially the red ones) was as simple as it was complicated – Saki had once thrown a rose at him, a mocking smirk on his face as he called his younger brother a pretty doll, and even if it was meant to insult the boy, for some strange reason, it did not; Muraki looked down at the rose he was twirling in his fingers now, blood red petals smirking back at him just like his brother once had, and tossed it to the violet-eyed shinigami who was scowling in his general direction.

#36 – Secret

It was his little secret (as much as a mere spirit could have secrets) – watching Muraki sleep; even being as dead as he was and his soul only barely holding on to the remains of his body, Saki could spend infinite time by his younger brother's side, studying the calm and relaxed features, sometimes tracing them with a ghostly hand (which was built of nothing more than pure condensed energy) and watching how unsettled his brother became then, how his delicate brow furrowed and his breathing hitched, and he would always smile and know that, right at that moment, his darling younger brother was dreaming about him.

#37 – Snakes

His voice was that of a snake (if snakes could speak), so smooth and underlined with thousand different tints of venom, and when he spoke to him, it seemed as thought the time froze and the eternity stopped, and his heart (which he no longer had) skipped a beat or two from the tones in that sound, soft like velvet yet so ice-ridden and deathly that you became a slave to it before you realized what was happening, and then you wanted nothing more than to offer everything you had, give away every last of your possessions, even your life, only to see those lips curl up in a smile.

#38 – Snow

Saki always knew when it was snowing outside because Muraki would be gone for hours and hours again, and when he returned, snowflakes would be glistening in his hair and slowly melting away into droplets of water, and from his container, the older of the two would watch the scene with some sort of remorse, unable to touch that angelic beauty, unable to even comprehend what it was that his reeling mind wanted; Muraki would always glance at his remains, a hint of disgust on his face before he turned away and shook the snow off of his white coat, leaving tiny puddles of water on the tiled floor.

#39 – Solid

The large container was his afterlife now, and even though he was not alive anymore, he was not dead either; Saki could not explain the state he was in, nor could he fully comprehend why sometimes he could see Muraki standing on the other side of the glass that held him trapped and restricted his movement in the space between here and there, and, to some extent, the only thing he was capable of was moving in time – going back to the places his memory housed, back to when life had been different, before he was roughly pulled back into the present to look into his younger brother's silver-coloured eyes.

#40 – Spring

It was hard to tell which one of the two half-brothers had been more insane back in the day, but it was easy to tell which one would take the title now since only Muraki was truly alive; he had torn his brother from his grave and he was going to take him away from the Death as well, and for that he kept Saki in a glass prison, waiting for the spring of rebirth, for a second chance at killing – that had to be insanity at its finest, unlike anything else this world had seen up until that point.

#41 – Stable

There was an odd sense of stability when one was submerged in viscose liquid and kept fixated in a certain position by wires, tubes and needles, there was something static and definite about the state he was in, a constant and never-changing episode of his life like a moment of time trapped in a photograph, but he was still real, still in this world, except he was not alive in the common terms of the word; he still existed and held on by a thread of a memory that his younger brother worked so hard to severe once and for all, attempting to break free from him once and for all, and Saki held on tighter as if to spite him, and deep down in the core of his spirit he felt a morbid satisfaction watching his brother struggling along and sinking deeper in a kind of a personal hell.

#42 – Strange

He found it odd, the way he could always tell when Muraki was near, when he was watching him from the other side of the glass, and if he had been in a position to open his eyes, Saki would have done so just to see his half-brother's reaction; Muraki thought it was strange, the way he felt as if Saki was near whenever he was standing in front of the large container, as if his soul was still clinging to his pathetic remains, and sometimes (he truly had no explanation for this other than his overly desperate wish to see him alive again) he thought his older brother's eyelids would open any other moment and he would regard him with mockery shimmering in his grey eyes.

#43 – Summer

It was summer again and roses were in full bloom, and every evening Muraki purposefully made his way home through the local park that was filled with rose bushes just so that he could walk slowly (even stop and sit down on a bench if he suddenly had the wish), close his eyes, breathe in the sweet scent and think back to his childhood and the rose garden in which he had played hide and seek with his older brother during the hours of dusk; to him, that was the time when roses had the sweetest aroma and when their thorns were sharper and petals – softer, but the memories faded, leaving only a bittersweet taste behind – much like the roses he was so very fond of...

#44 – Taboo

Sometimes Muraki wondered whether those nights with his older brother were all a fruit of his imagination, the result of the multi-voiced inner demons that tore at his mind whether he was asleep or awake until he no longer wanted to sleep or awaken again because Saki's hands on his skin, his brother's mouth next to his – if it was all nothing but a dream, then he would much rather stay in that nightmare-like world than be a part of the reality in which his brother was a murderer who made him follow the same path; but it was all before he discovered that Death could be cheated, that there was a way to steal the dead away from it, and since that moment it was the only thought on his mind whether he be asleep or awake – he was going to break the most sacred of rules, to do the unthinkable and seemingly impossible – and he would get one final chance to be with his brother, no matter what it cost him.

#45 – Ugly

The wires and needles and other contraptions holding Saki's head in place were all ugly, the container and greenish liquid in it were ugly too, Muraki thought; the only thing truly beautiful was his brother's severed head, his blond hair floating about in the liquid, the calm expression on his face and the slightly opened eyes (he had wanted to see Saki's eyes again and had pushed his eyelids open, and sometimes, when the light fell just right, it seemed as though Saki was really looking at him, as though there was still life in those eyes), the spinal cord dangling from his neck, and the severed tissue – that was the true beauty, and the thought of bringing it all back to life made Muraki's heart race.

#46 – War

It was a war, though not the kind that was fought out in the open, but rather one fought inside one's mind away from everyone's eyes, away from intrusive questions – only two spirits competing to see which one would emerge victorious – and sometimes Muraki could swear that Saki's voice was haunting him in his dreams, whispering at him from dark and seemingly empty corners of rooms and narrow streets at night, and he had seen shadows wisp around in the darkness and then run and hide when he approached, and sometimes he was fairly certain that it had been Saki's ghost, that it was always his ghost following him around, battling with him for his sanity, threatening to drive him completely insane (even farther than he had already gone), and every once in a while there were nights when Muraki was quite certain that his brother's spirit would finally take him over entirely.

#47 – Water

It flowed through his fingers, tiny droplets splattering against the sides of the sink, the soft sounds drowned out in the rush of water and Muraki placed his hands under the stream again, filled his cupped palms with the ice-cold liquid and splashed his face with it, dragging his hands over his face in a try to ward off the horrors of the nightmare he had just been awakened from; he had dreamt of Saki and their childhood, how they played in the rose garden, how he had killed his parents and how Muraki had wanted to kill him, but someone else had been quicker... and the scenes had changed and he had been digging up Saki's grave only to find it empty, and then he had chased, chased... and at the end of the road he had been there – Saki, alive and well, and mocking him and coming closer with all the intention to kill, and Muraki had been glued to the spot, unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to defend himself... and he had awakened with a start, drenched in cold sweat, and his heart beating fast, too fast...

#48 – Welcome

There was no place on this earth where Muraki – a wanderer at heart, bound down by nothing – felt more welcome and more at home than the basement of the laboratory where his brother's remains were floating in a light green liquid in a glass container; a figurative crystal coffin for the prince who would one day be awakened by a gentle kiss of his one true love and his one true enemy – his own revenge-seeking brother – and then both their worlds would finally come to a grandiose end in fire and death.

#49 – Winter

And he both liked and hated the snow because it always reminded him of his childhood and how he and his older brother would try to catch snowflakes as they swirled through the air slowly, and how they used to play in the snowy garden between the barely recognisable rose bushes; and now that he was grown up, the snow still seemed so magical and alluring that sometimes he thought that his brother's breath was caught somewhere among the soft white flakes and he just needed to try a little harder to hear it and feel its touch upon his cheek.

#50 – Wood

Sometimes Muraki thought back to the seldom days when Saki had secretly left the house to wander in the woods in solitude, unaware (or maybe aware, but pretending to not be) that he had a little shadow following him around, as Muraki took every smallest chance he got to get out of the house and away from his mother who, although dearly loved, was a little bit too overwhelming sometimes; those were his stolen moments of freedom, something that bound the unwilling brothers together whether they knew it or not, and he could feel this strange connection even after all these years, even now when the only thing on his mind was revenge...

Together on their own -/- FF VII: Advent Children

2007-11-10T14:23:45Z

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Title: Together on their own
Warnings: None, worksafe.
Notes: Written for 30_nights community challenge using prompt #001 - You were never mine to begin with.
Summary: Even being together, they are still on their own.

---

Together on their own

It is such a beautiful night, he thought. The ragged moonlit sides of the mountains stood out against the overall darkness, the glittering snow-covered peaks reaching up to the pitch-black sky like hands raised up in a mute prayer. Millions of stars twinkled above him and his two brothers, one of which was sleeping soundly and the other... The other was wide awake and possessed with heavy thoughts he could not shake off, not even if his older brothers tried to help him.

Yazoo could clearly see his younger brother in the distance, standing stock-still as if he were nothing but a statue. His fragile-looking form was darker than black against the starlit sky, and if not for the moonlight playing in his silver hair, average eyes would never be able to notice him. Yazoo's eyes, however, were not those of an average human. Giving off a faint pale green glow, they saw more than he ever let on.

Even now, though his gaze was locked on his brother's silhouette, Yazoo saw something more than just the corporeal form. He took notice of how stiff Kadaj's shoulders were and how his hands had clenched into such tight fists that, without those gloves on, his nails would have pierced his skin and drawn blood. And beyond all that, Yazoo could almost see what was going through his younger brother's mind. He saw the nightmares haunting Kadaj nightly because he could see their shadows in his own mind. Not nearly as strong and barely above a whisper, but they were still there as a reminder, a warning of what was going to happen.

Yazoo did not know what the youngest of them was thinking because Kadaj never shared his thoughts; neither of them did. And the remnant had grown himself a shell, had withdrawn to a place deep inside him that kept his memories locked away as well as housed the visions of the future that could have been if only...

But things never went the way they wanted them to be. Someone already had a plan set out for the trio and all they had to do was follow it. Subconsciously, but follow it to the tiniest detail and do as bidden.

And they did. Holy help them, they did...

Kadaj stood on the edge of the cliff, gazing into the black abyss below and feeling lost, so very lost... He did not know what the future held for him, he was barely aware of the thoughts in his mind, of the voice that spelled out his actions beforehand, that made him act upon an instinct that was not entirely his own, that could never be his own... And yet it was. He had acknowledged it with some strange clarity once, and did not fight it anymore.

Oh, how he had fought! In the very beginning, he had done everything in his power to keep control over himself, to keep control over his thoughts and actions. He had succeeded, at first. But when Mother's voice had entered his consciousness and kept haunting him even in his sleep, he had realized that it was all futile. Right then he had known that he was going to fail the struggle against the other's mind, that he would surrender himself to the other's will.

He had been afraid. So afraid, in fact, that he had distanced himself from his older brothers. It had hurt him to do so, perhaps more than it hurt his brothers because those two still had one another to hold on to. He had watched them from a distance, envious of all the small things they shared, the barely noticeable gestures they used to communicate without words, envious of the special bond they had formed and strengthened, and regretful of burdening them with his presence.

And so he pretended that he did not care. Pretended that his brothers' closeness was something to be scorned and scoffed at, something that had no place in their little three-way relationship. His brothers did not argue against this command. They never did. Silent acceptance was their only response.

After that, Loz devoted himself to strenuous and merciless training, making his speed and strength increase dramatically; his devotion and drive worth admiration. Yazoo, on the other hand, had distanced himself from his brothers even more, hardly talking to anyone lest it was a monosyllabic answer to a direct question that he could not avoid, or an insult that was just too irresistible to be kept in. And Kadaj... Kadaj had become vengeful. He obliterated every small thing that got in his way, with each time eliminating some sort of a barrier inside him. He knew that, once the last vestiges fell, he would be swallowed by a wild torrent, drowned under a force far too great to counter, to comprehend. It was living within him, that unnamed force, and it would break free one day and then there would be nothing more... nothing left.

And he did not know whether he wanted for this moment to come as soon as possible or to forestall if forever.

Yazoo saw Kadaj shudder. It was barely noticeable, but it was still there, and he wished to walk up to his little brother and hold him through the night until darkness faded, until his fears dissipated and sun shone right into his eyes and into his soul once again. And he remembered – a little too late – that they had no souls. They had not been created with them. But still he wondered what that strange feeling in his chest was, that inexplicable swelling and tightness that reappeared every time he saw his brother in such a distressed state. If he was truly a soulless thing, should he be feeling anything at all? Should he even care so much for something that was his brother and yet was not?

Slowly, without even thinking about his actions, Yazoo got up and approached Kadaj, silently wondering about how light and soundless his own steps were on the rocky ground and how drawn he was to the youngest of the three of them. He pondered the feeling that made him long to be with his brother, to keep him close and never let go. It was inexplicable, almost like the same feeling that drove them onwards in search of something nameless that Kadaj had opted to call 'Mother'.

There was but one thing that Yazoo knew for sure – when he was with his brother, he felt more complete, more at ease with the world, but Kadaj rarely chose to acknowledge his existence as if being afraid to lose the cool façade he had developed.

And it hurt. It hurt to have a dearly cherished brother ignoring him, but Yazoo had learned to deal with it the way he was dealing with everything else. It never lessened the inexplicable pain he felt in his chest, though.

Kadaj tensed even more, feeling his brother approach. He knew that it was Yazoo. Only Yazoo could walk as lightly and soundlessly as moonlight on water, and the teen scoffed at himself for such a silly comparison. He was not supposed to think about anything other than finding Mother. But he sinned against that resolve every time Yazoo was near, every time just the two of them were awake while Loz slept or was gone investigating one thing or another. And the teen was not sure whether he should appreciate or loathe the distraction his older brother provided.

Yazoo was dangerous in his own special way and Kadaj often felt an alarming thrill when watching him. It had taken time for the teen to realize that the possibility of getting closer to Mother was not the only reason why he enjoyed those hours of torturing humans. It was Yazoo's voice and movements that kept him glued to the spot, made his body tense like a string and kept him almost breathless in anticipation and a strange sense of admiration. And if he ever felt misguided or disappointed when the interrogations were fruitless or revealed only the information he was already aware of, his older brother's presence soothed the rage and helped to settle his sorrow to a more bearable ache.

Yazoo stopped by Kadaj's side and patiently waited to be acknowledged with a small nod. It did not happen, but he chose to remain where he was until his brother said aloud that his presence was burdening him. That did not happen, either.

And so they stood side by side, comfortable in their silence, until it became jarring and the need to break it arose. Still, they held back for as long as they could.

Since Kadaj had not snapped at him yet, Yazoo took that as his incentive to speak up.

"We'll be there soon."

Kadaj nodded at the silent statement. He continued looking away at some faraway spot. There, in that direction was Midgar.

"We'll find her."

Kadaj shot his brother a quick glare, thinking that he should be the one saying it, that he should be the one reassuring his brothers, but it rarely worked that way. They knew for a fact that Reunion was inevitable. It was only the time and place that was unknown. And more often than not, a reassurance like this was very welcome.

And so, Kadaj only nodded in agreement. "We will. And they won't be able to stop us."

Yazoo inclined his head, contemplating those words. They had so many enemies, so many humans trying to prevent them from reaching their goal. It was unfair, he thought. They had done nothing wrong, they were not doing anything wrong, yet humans treated them as if they were. It made Kadaj angry, and when he got angry, he could kill without a second thought.

It was troublesome, Yazoo admitted to himself, but it was also understandable, as he himself had been there more than once. He knew what was going through his brother's mind when the outbursts of violence occurred. It was something they all felt, even if to a lesser degree, when another unwanted obstacle came in their path. It was irksome and it was annoying, and Kadaj wanted to get rid of it as quickly and efficiently as possible.

"Let's go."

Yazoo met his younger brother's gaze with a hint of wonder that soon turned into understanding and he nodded his agreement. It was one of those nights again. A night that would be better spent on the road, moving forward and closer to their goal, because the voices in Kadaj's head had grown too loud for him to sleep or rest. Yazoo knew that it was as much of a burden as it was a blessing. Even though sometimes he would much rather have the ghosts haunting his own mind instead of his little brother's, the Remnant also knew that it was not meant to be.

Silence was Yazoo's armour. And having Mother's voice haunting his mind, he would much rather suffer in silence and see his brothers live on happy and not knowing of the destiny that was set out for them. But Kadaj was the most open to Mother's influence, the most willing to respond, the most determinate and the neediest for acknowledgment. It made him the perfect choice for carrying out Mother's plan. A small lie here, half a truth there, and the promise of a Reunion was all he needed to try and prove himself more capable than his predecessor.

Kadaj was many things. There were even more that he was not. He was, for example, Yazoo's brother, but it was only a title used for convenience to refer to him and Loz as well. He was the youngest of the three, but it was irrelevant. It was meaningless.

Yazoo could never say that Kadaj was his. Not his brother. Not his companion. Not even his leader. Saying so would be lying. And Kadaj hated liars.

The possession worked only one way. There was only one way to say who belonged to whom. Because Kadaj did not belong. He did not belong to anyone; not even himself. He was Mother's. And he would always be Mother's.

Preordained -/- FF VII: Advent Children

2007-11-10T14:06:28Z

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Title: Preordained
Warnings: None, worksafe.
Notes: Written for the fanfic100 community challenge using prompt #30 - Death. Turned out more general Remnants-centric than was intended.
Summary: Their destiny was preordained and all they could do was live it out.

---

Preordained

Killing was a dance.

A dance with Death and a bargain with the Devil himself. And only those not faint of heart could accept that with as much ease as the three Remnants showed. Demigods by definition, they were almost holy beings; creatures ruling over death and destruction. To them, killing was more than just the highest peak of their skill. It was an art. It was something to admire and revere. And dying was an object of worship and a subject of complete devotion.

It was Mother – the end and the beginning, the omega before the alpha. They would die for Her, in Her, and be reborn again as something new, something much stronger and closer in form to Her. She was their reason. She was their heartbeat and their dreams, and every thought of their waking hours. There was no being greater than Her. There was no bigger force than Her. And as Her children the trio was privileged to share the infinite power She possessed. And to them, their existence in exchange for Her greatness was a small price to pay.

The Remnants revelled in the strength their Mother had gifted them with and expressed their gratitude by giving her the blood of innocents – the holy sacrifice that was absolutely necessary in every ritual of worship. Because worshipping Mother meant worshipping Death itself, and there was no greater force than that on this planet or any other in the vast infinity of the outer space from whence She had come.

The Remnants thought it to be a blessing – her coming to this planet. Had that never happened, they would not have come into existence, and in such a case Mother would never be able to receive such generous sacrifices and such ardent prayers they were gifting her with now. This world was in a dire need of a proper god to worship, as it had none, and sometimes the three silver-haired males were forced to think that the humans of this planet just did not know of such a mighty deity as Mother. Otherwise they would have built shrines and temples in Her honour, and annual worship rituals would take place in every small town.

But now that they had come down onto this planet, Mother needed not to worry. Her three demigod sons would make sure Her name was widely known and Her name was spoken with reverie and worship the way it was supposed to be since the beginning of the time.

And so they killed. In Her name and for Her they soaked the soil of this planet with blood whenever they found someone not worthy of Her holy reign. And more often than not it was mildly surprising to find so many beings that were only good for eternal damnation and Mother's hatred. They did not even make good sacrifices because Mother's enemies were to be killed in the name of greater justice and not granted with the honour of becoming a ritual sacrifice, a token of the trio's devotion to their cause.

Every battle they fought was a further proof of their readiness to go to great lengths for Her. With each victory, no matter how small, they came closer to finding Her holy remains. Each such small step forwards brought them closer to the moment when they could finally be united with Her and sacrifice themselves in order to have Her returning to this world. That was what they strove for in their dreams and waking thoughts. That was what they fought for and sought for so desperately. That was why every smallest failure seemed like such a huge barricade in their path, like a threat and an obstacle impossible to overcome. But they never gave up. Their pilgrimage would only end the moment when they finally were reunited with Mother.

The trio would have gladly ripped this planet to shreds themselves, but there was always a fear that by doing so they could harm Mother's remains. Even the thought of it was a sacrilege! It would be a betrayal of Her trust. And it would break them even more than their quest had already done. The very idea that their Mother could be in pain because of the humans inhabiting this planet made their insides twist into icy knots and white-hot rage run amok in their veins. Sometimes, the painful longing to be complete and one in Her was almost physical, but all they could do was struggle along and wait for that faithful hour...

They were Her saints and Her martyrs. They were carrying an invisible stigmata; one that was more of mind than physical body even though the pain was too real sometimes. They were beautiful and broken. Shattered, even. But it only made them long more for their Mother and the Reunion She had promised them once. Her word was law, her wishes were orders and they were her damned prophets, forsaken and lost, but still struggling to hold on to the barest trace of a hope.

Yet the outcome would always be the same – either you lived or died – you could never belong only to yourself. They were Hers. Always. And they did not want it any other way. Despite sometimes wishing for a more stable ground underneath their feet, for something more than empty promises and false directions, they would never choose anything different from the life they led right now, they would never try to change their current situation because settling for something else would mean settling for something less.

Death was everything and nothing. Intangible, yet real. It was Mother. The omega before the alpha. The goddess that destroyed the world to keep herself alive. The end that brought only one beginning for only one person. It was their goal and reason to live. It was the only thing that really mattered. The only thing they were striving for.

Their destiny was preordained. They were meant to walk the dying path and they did it with pride. The path of the prophets was never an easy one, not when the entire world seemed to consist only of enemies. Death was going to be their salvation, but they would never choose to end their lives prematurely. It was not Her wish and so it was not their wish either.

Death was always near. Trailing them, sometimes running ahead of them, but it was always there – right at the ends of their fingertips. And most of the time they were the ones delivering it to those unworthy and useless. It was blessing and punishment all in one. It was who they were – blessing and punishment for this planet.

Life was but a travel from one darkness into another, and they made sure to always keep a reminder of it close at hand, whether they were aware of it or not. They never forgot one thing: gods and demigods – they all died eventually. Whether it was a physical death or merely disappearance from everyone's memories – it was still the same. Once they parted from this world, they would be forgotten and there would be no ancient crypts with signs of worship that could confirm their existence. Memories faded out and temples collapsed, scripts got worn out and ink faded, words disappeared and languages died.

From one darkness into another: that was their path as well. Even as demigods, they would still die; it was their destiny. But while they were alive, they made sure to walk their path without looking back, without giving it a second thought. Everything was preordained, everything was planned long before; they only had to carry out the plan of a God.

Death awaited them, but there was nothing to fear once they knew that this was the purpose of their existence. As demigods they had one privilege – they would live on in Mother even after their death.

And so they danced to the tune of Death, performed for Her with a smile for as long as they lived. When their final hour would come around, they would meet it with a smile as well, taking the final steps with as much ease as they had showed in the beginning. And their final heartbeat would be the finale grande of this wild waltz.

Random drabbles

2007-10-11T21:38:46Z

There was once a drabble meme. And instead of waiting until all of them were completed, I decided to post what I have right now otherwise you'd be waiting forever. ♥
So. Here you have ten drabbles, all 100 words in length.
Six more are coming up - for louissinclaire, tenchi_saz, starherd (2 drabbles), e_elf_alchemist and autumntwiliight.

For kit_n
Characters: Kadaj and Son Goku (Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children and Gensoumaden Saiyuki)
Prompt: Kadaj's first experience

For the first time Kadaj had met an opponent who only fought for himself, and it was something he could never understand. The Remnant himself only fought for Mother and for Reunion. He did not know what it was – to fight for himself or to fight only because there was no other option left.

Kadaj carefully assessed his opponent. The boy was no older than himself, but there was something about his eyes that screamed ancient.

"So." Goku twirled his nyoi-bo with interest studying his opponent and wondering about how much fun this fight would be. "What's your favourite food?"

For angelhope99
Characters: Cloud Strife and Yami no Bakura (Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children and Yu-Gi-Oh!)
Prompt: They say time heals everything
But I'm still waiting

They were both broken, both lacking something. They were incomplete, in a sense. No matter how much time had passed, their memories did not go away, they did not stop haunting them and nothing could chase away the ghosts of their past.

Cloud raised his head, hearing silent steps echo through the broken church. He saw white hair flit through the dusk and relaxed. A small nod was the only greeting, the only invitation for Bakura to sit down next to him at the edge of the shimmering pool.

Silence reigned. They were both waiting, but neither knew what for.

For cruxis
Characters: Tsubasa and Kisara (Kannazuki no Miko and Yu-Gi-Oh!)
Prompt: Baptized with a perfect name
The doubting one by heart
Alone without himself.

They both had sacrificed themselves. They both had given their strength over to the one they loved the most. Their final breath had been spent to protect another person.

Tsubasa entertained himself with the seeming naiveté of the silver-haired blue-eyed girl. She was stronger than he had expected, but he was no weakling either.

Kisara turned her head, regarding the teal-haired male and tilted her head in acknowledgement. They did not talk much, but what little words they exchanged, revealed that they still doubted if their decisions had been right. And yet they would repeat their actions again if needed.

Characters: Oogami Souma and Kurosaki Hisoka (Kannazuki no Miko and Yami no Matsuei)
Prompt: Hush, Child,
The darkness will rise from the deep
And carry you down into sleep...

They had met only once during Souma's life. It had been shortly after the disturbance in time and space caused by the rewriting of events and erasing one human existence from the memories of many.

Seeing him for the first time, Hisoka had instantly known that Souma would die young, and it came true. Barely in his twenty-first year, he got in a road accident. A car collided with his motorcycle, sending him flying off a cliff. But the fall was never destined to come to an end, not for him.

Hisoka welcomed Souma into the afterlife with a smile.

Characters: Nekoi Yuzuriha and Kirihara Naoya (X/1999 and Night Head Genesis)
Prompt: fool me fool me
go on and fool me
love me love me
pretend that you love me

Yuzuriha had opened him up to a different world than he was used to and Naoya tried to cling on to the vision she showed. He did not fear physical touch when he was with her, unafraid of unwelcome visions because there would be none.

Yuzuriha brought colour into his life and he would do anything to keep her by his side, but it was impossible. She already had someone she loved and Naoya would never hurt her by trying to break them apart. As much as it hurt him, the only thing he would have of her were dreams.

For tenchi_saz
Characters: Shirou Kamui and Kaiba Noa (X/1999 and Yu-Gi-Oh!)
Prompt: Killing me softly

Noa had felt disturbance in his virtual world, found the source and a possibility to cross back into the real world through the girl manipulating computer systems, but he and his friends had, without even knowing it, ruined his plan. Except...

He had known. He. Kamui. He had looked and seen him and known, and Noa had trembled from head to toe, fearing destruction even though he was but a fragment of information in virtual reality – immortal, in a sense.

And yet something in Kamui's smile had unnerved him, like a silent warning that everything could change in a heartbeat.

Characters: Loz and Tsuzuki Asato (Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children and Yami no Matsuei)
Prompt: I can feel everything you do
Hear everything you say
Even when you're miles away
Coz I am me, the universe & u

"What am I to do with you?" Tsuzuki sighed, observing the leather-clad person in a battle stance. With every day, they came around weirder and weirder, and it was just his luck to get assigned all these 'odd' cases. It figured that he'd get one on the day when he could be enjoying Watari's birthday cake. "I told you already, there's no reason to fight me."

"Fight?" Loz echoed dumbly before a wide grin split his face. "Who's fighting? I just want to..." And he swiftly moved forwards, his left arm raised and ready to deliver a bone-crushing blow. "Play!"

For sphinxofthenile
Characters: Muraki Kazutaka and Kadaj (Yami no Matsuei and Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children)
Prompt: Mortal in the light immortal in your love
I'm howling at you baby and the stars above

I'm gonna get you till the fallen days are gone
I'm gonna get you from dusk till dawn
No sudden bleeding lights on this street I walk among
I'm gonna get you from dusk till dawn

Looking into his eyes, Kadaj was strongly reminded of some of the scientists back at the laboratories and it was unsettling. He knew nothing of this strange man and yet something about him was making him cautious like one wrong move could trigger something unstoppable.

Muraki assessed the teen, seeing only a possible test subject, albeit more powerful than anyone he had met up until now except Tsuzuki. It was a pity, he thought, that he had nothing planned at the moment. Otherwise this strange silver-haired youth would be a wonderful experiment.

Kadaj scoffed at the man and turned away.

For starherd
Characters: Genjo Sanzo and Kisara (Gensoumaden Saiyuki and Yu-Gi-Oh!)
Prompt: I want to take you home
We'll waste some time

She was a lost ghost looking for help. No one else could see her but Sanzo. Granted, she was not always present, and when she appeared there was always a good reason behind it, but he wanted to get rid of her nevertheless. Because Kisara did not belong in his world. She knew it and was waiting for him to find a way to send her into the afterlife. None of his known destruction spells had worked.

And then... It came to him.

And there was no regret when Sanzo raised his banishing gun and let the spell-marked bullet fly.

For halfthewords
Characters: Sakurazuka Seishirou and Tsuzuki Asato (X/1999 and Yami no Matsuei)
Prompt: But I could never speak the words
Because they haven't wrote the words that mean enough to me

It was alarming how much this man reminded him of Muraki, straight down to his profession – he was a veterinarian. Seishirou had served to a Sakura tree, feeding it with the blood of his victims; it had been his reason, his inheritance that made him kill, unlike Tsuzuki's nightmare. And yet, when their gazes locked, the shinigami knew that there would be no words of regret. People of this calibre were unable of feeling, he knew that from experience.

Seishirou lit up a cigarette, eyes trained on the eternally blooming cherry trees down the alley, and let his mind wander.

Rage unleashed -/- FF VII: Advent Children

2007-10-11T18:18:05Z

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Title: Rage unleashed
Warnings: Gore and violence.
Notes: Written for dear Riles (because, as always, she knows just the right way to trigger my insane muses ♥ ) using prompt #9 (backyard) from my 10settings community challenge.
Summary: There are so many battles to fight, so many battles to win. And when you let go, no one knows how it will end.

---

Rage unleashed

It was so inexplicably good to unleash the pent-up rage. He did not have to make a choice, did not have to think whether what he did was wrong or right. They had already made the choice for him and now all he had to do was grant them their wish to die.

It was easy. Easier than breathing, Kadaj reckoned, driving Souba through flesh until it scraped against bones and left an imprint there. His target cried out in pain and tried to jerk away, but a swift slash through his neck put an end to that struggle. The remnant moved onto the next group of charging soldiers, paying no heed to where he stepped – the blood and body parts already littering the ground made it hard to see the grass and soil that had once been there. A few stray bullets flew overhead, hitting the brick wall several meters behind him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kadaj noticed Yazoo moving up on and along the wall that surrounded the backyard of the old laboratory complex. He was taking care of the snipers on the roof opposite him, choosing to draw all their attention on himself. Even more so when he opened fire on them, killing five men before they could even react to the new threat that had so suddenly appeared in the field of their vision.

Standing alone up there, high above the fighters in the backyard, Yazoo was a very easy and appealing target. Especially if the snipers were vary to not accidentally injure their fighting comrades down in the yard and would much rather wait for the outcome of the battle than risk killing one of their men. But when someone appeared in a clear shooting range and threatened their lives, they had to react and return the fire.

Kadaj smirked to himself, gleeful that his brother's incentive worked. Even though he would much rather deal with none at all, he had had to dodge a few bullets whenever the space around him cleared enough to grant a clear shot for the firearm-reinforced enemies. But now that Yazoo had taken them on himself, he did not need to worry about it. Also, he would not have to bother with deflecting and dodging bullets once he had disposed of all the enemies in the yard.

He could see right through the plans of those humans positioned on the roof – they would wait until either he got killed, or he killed their comrades. In the first case, the snipers would not need to do anything, and in the second – they would not have to hold back out of fear of shooting their own kin.

Of course, Kadaj did not intend on dying neither now, nor ever. He could take care of the snipers himself, but why bother and go the hard way when there was an easier way around it? Yazoo was already doing a fine job of killing them, not letting a single shot go to waste while Kadaj busied himself with moving around the entire span of the yard and annihilating the attackers.

Sometimes the humans where so slow that he almost felt disappointment when killing them turned out to be so easy. In a second of free time when his current assailant stalled with his attack, the teen wondered where his oldest brother had gone.

Just a few minutes ago, they had been inside the building, inspecting it from the attic to the basement in an attempt to find information when a group of soldiers intercepted and they had to fight them back. They had been forced to retreat more and more, and at one point Loz had taken down an entire wall, causing the ceiling to cave in and block half of the corridor, leaving the oldest remnant on the other side of the destruction. The floor had crumbled under their feet, taking them down to the floor below, and then they had been forced to flee the place when several hand grenades followed their fall. It was their luck that the windows had no metal bars in front of them and they could use them as an escape route. Along with shards of glass, flames and flying debris, they had ended up in a locked backyard, and only a few minutes later a group of twenty soldiers had barged in.

Kadaj stepped into a puddle of blood and someone's intestines, but paid no heed to that. The count of how many he had already killed was long lost, and there were still some ten-fifteen left to kill. As he raised Souba and brought it down on his next opponent, metal clanging loudly against metal, the teen suddenly realized that shooting had stopped. The tiny flash of panic that Yazoo might have fallen and disappeared just like Loz some minutes ago did not even manage to register in his mind when a single bullet flew high overhead and Kadaj witnessed one human's bloodied brains splattering on the wall.

The teen bared his teeth in a feral grin, thriving in the look of fear on his opponent's face before drawing back and slashing at the wrist that held the double-edged sword. A howl of pain filled his ears like music and Kadaj briefly considered waiting a few seconds longer before finishing him off. There were so little left to kill that he might as well take his time with them.

Yazoo landed on the ground a bit heavier than usually, blood splashing and splattering against his boots. He had not managed to dodge several bullets, and while his injuries were not lethal, they were still quite annoying. The long-haired remnant stepped out of the red puddle and over a corpse, not minding one bit the bones cracking under his feet when he happened to step on a hand. Those humans were no longer in a condition to care about any excess damage that was done to their bodies, and the five live ones who made the mistake to attack him got dealt a swift and relatively painless death by a bullet to the head.

The fact that Kadaj was just showing off now brought a smirk to Yazoo's face. The soldiers fell down one by one with each time Souba descended. The teen spun around, swiftly delivering one final strike. Blood splattered in the air and the man fell down to join his comrades on the ground and in death.

Yazoo followed the fall with an uninterested gaze and quirked an eyebrow upon seeing one of the supposedly dead men slowly reaching for his sword. Holding back an annoyed sigh, the remnant raised his Velvet Nightmare and shot the soldier in the back of his head. No one would threaten his little brother.

Kadaj straightened and whipped around, eyes narrowed at Yazoo. He followed the direction his brother's gunblade was still pointing in, and the corner of his lip twitched with distaste when the teen realized what had happened.

As the euphoria of killing wore off, he slowly became aware of his injuries and quickly made sure that his older brother had not gone unharmed before he could relax.

Blood still dripping from Souba's blades and Velvet Nightmare still smoking, the two brothers evaluated the damage done to their surroundings and themselves, and made sure there were no survivors left.

The sound of shattering glass drew their attention back to the old building just in time for them to see a body flying through a third floor window. Only a moment later Loz appeared in it and a broad grin split his face when he saw both his brothers alive and well. He waved his hand vigorously and shouted something down at them, obviously excited, but neither Kadaj nor Yazoo was in a position to care.

"You know," Yazoo drawled and turned his attention back to Kadaj, "you're right. He is an idiot."

Kadaj chuckled, tried to suppress it, but gave up and threw his head back, laughing out loud in hilarity. Even if he would be tormented by guilt later, he allowed himself one moment when he could forget about having once again failed in their search for Mother.

Slowly, he calmed down and allowed his gaze to wander over the destruction that ruled the backyard of the laboratory now. Death and destruction – this was what expected everyone who dared to get in his and his brothers' way.

"We'll find her, Yazoo. We'll find her," Kadaj reassured himself, his brother, and the whole world.

He had been promised a Reunion, and he would get it.

Escape -/- FF VII: Advent Children

2007-10-07T11:07:10Z

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Title: Escape
Warnings: Shounen-ai. Relatively worksafe.
Notes: Written for kit_n using prompt #1 (Beginnings) from my fanfic100 community challenge. (Guess I should set up THE Table for easier browsing in the future...)
Summary: Sometimes you don't even realize that everything you do is just a means of escape.

---

Escape

It all started with a single touch. Neither of them could tell why or how, but it felt so right, so natural... And once it had started, they never wanted to stop.

Kadaj did not remember why Yazoo had touched his cheek; he did not know what that brief expression on his older brother's face was; he only sensed that he had hurt him somehow. And the only reaction he could manage was leaning into the touch, as if trying to lessen the effect of whatever it was that had upset his brother. He did not know, and he did not care to know. It all was gone in the realisation of how good the touch felt.

Kadaj looked up, seeking out Yazoo's gaze, but it was just as unreadable as ever. Whatever had disturbed him was locked away again, masterfully hidden. He did look somewhat different though, and the teen could not explain it. The remnant did not like things he could not understand, but this time he did not pull away.

Yazoo stepped in closer, hand slowly moving up and into Kadaj's hair. He kept the touch light and soothing, almost playful. It was just like during the nights when his little brother was seeing nightmares and the presence of his older brothers could tone them down and make them more bearable.

Kadaj never took his eyes off of Yazoo's while his brother let his gaze stray, closely inspecting the teen's features as if trying to memorize every tiniest detail. Upon a sudden whim, Kadaj reached out and tangled his fingers in Yazoo's hair. That immediately got his brother's attention and when their gazes locked again, something blazed between them. It was wild and powerful – a dire need to belong, to be complete, to be so close to one another that no one could ever come in-between them, that no one could ever tear them apart.

A confident smirk on Kadaj's part, and their lips were crushed together in a touch so wild and needy, demanding and controlling, giving and taking in one breath until it was too much and not enough. They wanted more, needed more and when they parted they were breathless and almost choking from the lack of oxygen, but it did not matter. Yazoo leaned in to plant small kisses along Kadaj's neck and the teen threw his head back, giving him more room to work on. He breathed out wistfully and brought both his hands up higher to mess with Yazoo's hair. The content sound emitting from his throat made the youngest remnant smile amusedly.

Faster than expected, their lips met again. Yazoo cupped his brother's face in his hands, eager to touch skin only to find himself unable to do so. With a frustrated growl he tore himself away from Kadaj and used his teeth to bite off the gloves that had suddenly become a nuisance. He could have snarled at the amused look his younger brother gave him, but was too preoccupied to care. Once the bothersome material was removed, he could demonstrate how skin to skin contact felt better, felt more right; and Kadaj let himself be lulled into the calmness of the touch, the silent affection and promises of belonging.

The teen lightly ran his fingertips down Yazoo's cheek and over his lips.

"Take it off," he commanded silently, knowing that his brother would understand what he was referring to. He saw the small smirk on Yazoo's lips one second before his teeth bit into the leather of his glove, slowly pulling it off. Kadaj watched in mesmerisation and brought his free hand to his own mouth, mimicking his brother and responded to Yazoo's smug smirk with one of his own.

Experimentally, Kadaj ran his newly bared fingers over Yazoo's lips before moving in for another kiss and reaching for the zipper of his brother's coat. He wanted to see more of him, wanted to touch more, wanted all of him right now. And he had his wish granted.

Kadaj took a small step back, gaze intently following every inch of his brother's skin that was exposed and fingers tracing lazy patterns all over it. Yazoo let his eyes close half-way, observing the expression of ultimate concentration on his brother's face. Kadaj looked completely caught up in what he was doing and Yazoo found himself unable to resist the urge to touch him. He reached out, brushing his fingertips against his little brother's cheek, threading them through his hair, returning the affection he was receiving. Kadaj looked up to meet his gaze and found himself caught up in another fierce kiss that took everything and promised nothing.

Then and there, it was all he wanted, all he needed to escape the world for a moment and forget about his nightmares.

---

Borderline -/- FF VII: Advent Children

2007-09-16T20:21:14Z

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Title: Borderline
Warnings: Shounen-ai, slash, minor sibling cuteness, self-beta (all screw-ups are my own).
Notes: Written for the 1sentence community challenge.
Summary: 50 sentences for the pairing Kadaj X Yazoo.

---

Borderline

#50 – Supernova

Kadaj was a supernova, a blinding flash of light that appeared out of the darkness and infinity to cast the world in its searing, scorching light before it would be once again plunged into eternal blackness; and Yazoo was the only one who had the privilege to experience it every night.

#49 – Hair

Their hair looked almost the same, it felt almost the same, and yet Kadaj found himself threading his fingers through Yazoo's slightly darker silvery strands, completely mesmerized by the eerie feeling like silk twining around and slipping through his fingers, and Yazoo was equally obsessed with Kadaj's hair, taking every small chance he got to play with them.

#48 – Waves

They were riding out one wave of pleasure after another until their stamina failed them and they collapsed onto the ground, both exhausted and yet so satisfied as if nothing else in this world would matter more than their physical contact and the peaceful aftermath of their lovemaking.

#47 – Moon

Kadaj wondered how was it possible for Yazoo to look so sinfully beautiful in the ghostly white moonlight, as he watched his 'brother' walk towards him under the silver-shining trees of the Sleeping Forest, and a part of him was screaming with pride and ownership, knowing that the long-haired male belonged only to him, that only he was allowed to do every unspeakable thing he could think of with him and receive silent appreciation in return.

#46 – Sun

Kadaj's touches often burned him with heat unlike that of the sun, for he was something more, always so much more whether they were in the middle of the battlefield or somewhere secluded with their lips locked and hands searching, searching...

#45 – Hell

When Kadaj turned on him, it always felt like an impending pandemonium, and he was ready to do anything to make it stop, but a part of him would always hunger for more of that scorching destruction...

#44 – Heaven

Yazoo's warm smile was the closest to heaven he would ever feel, Kadaj had decided one morning after the two brothers had parted in bad terms, and suddenly he had wanted to run after him and apologize, but had remained put, waiting for his older brother to come back and apologize to him even though the guilt was equal.

#43 – Sky

They often looked up at the sky, knowing that it was where their Mother had come from and wanting to sail through the Universe just like she had, but they could not – not yet – so instead they opted to retell their dreams to one another, finding comfort in each other's arms, pretending they were somewhere far, far away.

#42 – Clouds

Their Big Brother was the only dreary cloud that shielded their Mother's holy face from them, and they shared this anger in frantic kisses and they shared their pain in ferocious bites until the world faded away and only the two brothers remained; the two brothers and their Mother.

#41 – Completion

Even if Kadaj was with Yazoo, they were still incomplete; even with their third brother Loz beside them they were still incomplete, but Kadaj decided that the closest to completion he had ever come was the first time he had touched Yazoo and the first time his dangerously beautiful brother had shuddered under him, moaning out his name into the night.

#40 – Innocence

Kadaj was innocent no matter what he did, no matter how much blood he shed, and he would always remain that way, especially for Yazoo and especially at the times when he threaded his fingers through Kadaj's hair, his green eyes heavy and half-lidded and content sighs escaping the younger one's throat.

#39 – Smile

Yazoo smiled rarely, but Kadaj had learned to catch even the tiniest hints of pure happiness and he liked what those expressions did to his brother's face, lighting it up and turning it all the more beautiful, making him wonder if he could ever compare to him, no matter what Yazoo whispered in his hair at night.

#38 – Gift

Kadaj considered Yazoo to be Mother's gift for him – he was so perfect, so flawless to the eye and touch, and never once protested when Kadaj got too rough and careless with him; but Yazoo was always aware that, once presents grew old, they got tossed aside and were forgotten.

#37 – Technology

Whenever Yazoo was gone, running an errand for him, Kadaj could barely wait for his return and would call him over the cell phone, but never speak and Yazoo never spoke, either; they just listened to one another's breathing because it made them feel as if the other was right beside them and all they had to do was to just reach out and touch smooth warm skin...

#36 – Market

Some things you could not buy, could not steal, and Kadaj realized this one night when Yazoo was writhing under him, his voice lost from the pleasured cries he had forced out of his brother's throat just moments ago; some things you could only borrow for a while before you had to pass them on, unsure if they would ever come back into your hands again.

#35 – Bonds

The bond they had formed ran deeper than any brotherhood or partnership, deeper than blood relation, because they needed no words to understand what the other was thinking, needed no gestures to know what the other wanted; they were sharing the same heartbeat, the one they had once thought to be their Mother...

#34 - Lightning/Thunder

Storm raged outside the shallow cave, an occasional gust of wind tossing a handful of raindrops inside, but neither of the two cared about it, their bodies flush against one another, limbs intertwined, and lips sharing one breath, one wish – to live...

#33 – Fear

Sometimes Yazoo feared that his brother would reject him, would no longer need him, but soon enough he realized that he might be the only anchor that kept him holding on to this world and to whatever remained of his sanity.

#32 – Confusion

Kadaj was confused; a part of him wanted to run to his older brother, to plead him to hold him tightly and never let go, and then there was that part that wanted him to detest his brother for the weakness he had created.

#31 – Home

They had no home, they were like wind-blown leaves fluttering along with the current to land wherever; the only place they truly wished to return to was the place where their Mother was, and every night they whispered this wish to one another, knowing that they would be understood.

#30 – Star

He was the guiding star that lead them to Mother, but for Yazoo he was but a youngest brother – someone who needed to be cherished and loved, protected and watched over, and the latter he did with the greatest pleasure; he liked to sit by Kadaj's side and watch him sleep, making sure there would be no nightmares haunting him.

#29 – Melody

It was a melody, albeit a sinful one, and because of that Kadaj loved it all the more; he loved to hear Yazoo scream when he struck that spot deep inside him, rendering his brother incoherent with pain and pleasure and driving him beyond sanity.

#28 – Sickness

He could never get enough of Kadaj's lips, hands, and breathy little moans; his younger brother was a disease, a terminal one, something that you died from, not sought a cure for because Yazoo strongly believed that being cured from this one would be the death of him.

#27 – Blood

Blood was not really an option, but it always sent a strange primal tingle down their spines whenever the coppery taste registered on their tongues, and every time some kind of a dam broke inside of them and their play turned vicious and uncontrolled, both seeking to hurt the other as much as they could before offering sweet release that left them spiralling down into an abyss of pleasure.

#26 – Forever

They knew it could not last forever, knew that it was not meant for them, that all they had was here and now and even that could end all too soon, and that was why they took every small chance to be together, to expose themselves to one another in ways others found sinful and inappropriate because they were brothers, they were technically one and the same, and it drove them insane – being so close and yet not being together, not being whole – and it had to be remedied with the sensual joining of their bodies.

#25 – Devotion

Kadaj paid Yazoo's devotion back tenfold, his hands and mouth working their way down his body, unfolding one secret after another, learning how to touch his brother in a way that would make him gasp and shiver, and writhe, and plead for more; and Kadaj obeyed his silent pleas because it was making him light-headed and eerily alive.

#24 – Taste

Being taken by his little brother once was definitely not enough for the older clone, it only left him craving for more, and he made it a point to drive the youngest insane until he came to him, and all of his demands were met with a soft laugh and a zipper being slowly pulled down to reveal the skin that way always concealed from foreign eyes.

#23 – Hands

Kadaj worshipped Yazoo's touch, the way his fingers slowly danced down his chest or tangled in his hair, the way those nails trailed down his back, leaving white marks, but most of all he liked to have those wrists in his grip, pinned down above his head, even tied down to something because seeing his older brother so helpless and at his complete mercy drove him insane with lust.

#22 – Jealousy

He could be envious of so many things, the Velvet Nightmare being the prime example – it just was not fair that a mere weapon got to feel Yazoo's touch so often, to have his strong fingers wrapped around it in a firm grip – and for that the gunblade got carelessly cast aside every time Kadaj approached his brother with the sole intention to proclaim his ownership of him all over again.

#21 – Life

He doubted there would ever be a time when he felt more alive that at the moment his brother arched underneath him, pleading to continue, to take him all the way to the sweet bliss and beyond, and threatening with serious injury if he dared to stop, and he had laughed and bent down to steal a kiss; for as long as they breathed, this little game would never cease.

#20 – Freedom

He leaned in to Yazoo's touch, throwing aside all of his binds – Mother, Sephiroth, everything – and gave away the control of the situation to his older brother, knowing that he would always be kept safe, that he would always have a say in everything that happened between them; he deeply cherished every moment that he could spend just being, breathing, and feeling.

#19 – Wind

Kadaj enjoyed his older bother's presence immensely because they needed no words to converse, and whenever Yazoo smiled at him his special small and quiet smile, the teen felt as if he had suddenly grown himself a pair of wings and all he needed to rise high up in the sky was one soft breeze that never came, but he did not care; he was already soaring high above the world, too lost in a warm golden glow and content to feel his brother next to him.

#18 – Speed

More often than not they did everything in a rush; hands moving feverishly, clothes being torn off with disregard and thrown away to Gaia knows where, every obstacle that got in their way efficiently disposed of until they landed on a solid surface and the world stilled for a moment before beginning its maddening spin again, and mouths collided with ferocious need, hands sought to hurt and soothe, tease and relieve, and somewhere in the middle of it all they screamed when something blindingly bright exploded within them.

#17 – Tears

The closest they ever came to crying was only when they realized that the relationship they shared would end one day, that they would lose one another forever, and every night this thought visited the both of them simultaneously, Kadaj would always move over to Yazoo, and he would always put his arms around him and keep him close, promising to not let go for as long as their existence lasted.

#16 – Weakness

When that inexplicable mood struck him, Kadaj thought of Yazoo as his weakness; he tormented himself with hate-filled and vengeful thoughts and wanted to terminate the source of his corruption, but could not do it because that would mean losing an important part of himself.

#15 – Touch

Yazoo liked to touch him, to trace invisible designs all over his body, thread fingers through his hair, and Kadaj let him, slightly amused, slightly annoyed, because sometimes it felt too much like worship, and while his body enjoyed the attention, his mind screamed with indignation, finding the act blasphemous for only their Mother was to be worshipped.

#14 – Sex

It was always fast and rough – no mercy shown, none received in return – and they would never want it any other way; nothing else lifted them quite as high as the brutality they expressed during the act and the following mock-gentleness they showed to one another afterwards, trying to lie to one another – to themselves, even – that it mattered nothing.

#13 – Death

Kadaj knew without a question that both his brothers would die for him, that all he had to do was just ask for it, and that he would never voice it out anyway, because even the thought of seeing them kill themselves right in front of his eyes made his heart clench with an inexplicable emotion, and the idea of losing Yazoo was terrifying enough to shove this thought as far back in his mind as possible and never return to it again.

#12 – Sensual

He was an allure, a dangerous one, but he was no less dangerous in his anger, and together they fit perfectly; and sometimes the world ceased to exist for a few precious minutes and they could just be and breathe in their union, drowning into the other's presence and lost in a world of pleasure where pain twisted and warped into bliss.

#11 – Name

He liked hearing his name passing through his brother's lips on any occasion because that voice was such a precious sound at all times, but more so when he screamed it into the night at the moment they became one.

#10 – Ears

Yazoo never whispered things directly into Kadaj's ear, very well knowing his brother's dislike for the act, but he never minded when Kadaj whispered things to him, when his breath tickled his ear because it always sent shivers of anticipation down his spine and he desired to be closer to him than anyone else, closer than Mother and more important than Reunion, but it was never meant to be.

#09 – Telephone

Whenever Yazoo was not with him, Kadaj found himself looking at his mobile phone, waiting for a call from his brother, and it always came just when he had reached the highest point of impatience and had already started dialling the other's number to demand an update on events – Yazoo was a master at picking the right moment.

#08 – Happiness

Kadaj sighed in contentment, flexing his sore muscles, stretching his arms and closing his eyes to escape the morning light; next to him Yazoo turned on his side, a tiny smile tugging at his lips as he watched his brother with satisfaction and reached out to ghost his fingertips over the skin he had lavished with attention the previous night and Kadaj leaned into the touch and reached back to tangle hands in Yazoo's hair, murmuring silent words of appreciation that he would never say otherwise.

#07 – Chocolate

Kadaj had never understood why Loz obsessed over chocolate until Yazoo had borrowed some from their older brother for demonstration purposes; he had let it melt in his hand before slowly and sensuously licking it clean, then doing the same thing with Kadaj's hand and cajoling him to try it as well, and even though it never became a real habit, Loz often found himself short of his favourite sweet.

#06 – Rain

They were always solemn and brooding when it rained, always avoiding contact with each other, always averting eyes because there was something they could not explain, something that made them distance themselves from the other two, and even more than Kadaj, Yazoo fled any physical touch, pretended to not understand his brother's hints despite the burning pain in his chest for he could not explain the feeling that there was something threatening in the way the rain fell, that somehow, someday, it would separate them.

#05 – Potatoes

Once they had passed through an area where vegetable fields stretched from horizon to horizon and they had felt lost – a feeling worse than the one they had had whilst travelling through deserts and mountains because they were used to danger and not peace, but a hand lightly sliding down his back was calming and reassuring and Kadaj stole a quick glance at Yazoo who was looking in the distance with a small smile on his lips.

#04 – Pain

They liked their pleasure with a good deal of pain because it was a confirmation of their existence, of everything being real and meaningful, a reassurance that there was someone else who felt the same way, and it was all that mattered when their bodies twined together, hands sought to hold on to something solid, to please and torture, and soothe and mark as theirs.

#03 – Soft

A gentle touch to his cheek, and Yazoo was willing to give himself over to Kadaj, to be possessed by him, to have his mind taken over by a torrent of furious passion that would have broken a lesser man, but was exactly what he needed, what he wanted, what Kadaj craved for as well whenever their world threatened to fall apart because Mother had slipped just out of their reach again, and then Yazoo was his only anchor holding him to his sanity.

#02 – Kiss

A touch of lips upon other lips, rough and merciless, soft and soothing, playful and teasing, feather-light and maddeningly slow, gentle nips and rough bites, ghostly and soul-robbing, expressing ownership and possession, giving and taking without permission, fierce dominance and eager submission – all that and much more, and still they could not get enough, still they wanted more, but did not know how to ask for it.

#01 – Comfort

When they were close the world did not matter, when their fingers intertwined there was no need to chase after shadows, and when their lips met and parted to travel all over the other's body their existence gained a new meaning, a new fulfilment, and no other place in this world and beyond could feel more right, more safe, and there was nothing else than a desire to get even closer to one another, to become one being, one existence.

Tangent -/- X/1999

2007-09-02T13:48:28Z

Fandom: X/1999
Title: Tangent
Warnings: Worksafe.
Notes: Written for the 10_whores community challenge. Theme set #3, prompt #01: navigation.
Summary: Two lives touching, but not overlapping. And yet the traces of impact stay.

---

Tangent

She was bright in all the meanings of the word. Smart, witty, noticeable, overwhelming in her own way. She was all that and more. She tried to remain unnoticed, and yet she shone in the background like no one else from their group who remained on the front lines.

Subaru did not have a good grasp on her personality, did not know how her mind worked; Aoki would be the one who knew the most about her. But from what Subaru had seen, she could be reckless and carefree just like the element she wielded. It was always a treat to try and navigate his way through a conversation with her, to find a stable point to step on and let her see both sides of one aspect. Sometimes he was strongly reminded of his sister Hokuto in the way Karen nailed the meanings of his words – the woman was very perceptive.

Karen was passionate about things she found important, but she knew the line that separated it from obsession. If Subaru had to compare her to something, then it would be a well-controlled fire waiting to burst into freedom, but holding back and wavering on the borderline, testing the grounds.

Despite her age, Karen did not act motherly towards any one of them. They were all equals in her eyes, and whenever Subaru was around her, he found himself unwinding, if only the slightest bit. The light and warmth she had inside her managed to reach into his life as well, casting a soft glow on some things he had somehow forgotten in the long run. Because of her, he came to realize that there was more to life than just blindly following its flow, and that he had always known this. It was like finding another reason to hang on to life.

Subaru never told any of those thoughts to her, but he suspected she might have sensed it with that intuition all women seemed to possess.

Broken path -/- X/1999

2007-09-02T11:33:15Z

Fandom: X/1999
Title: Broken path
Warnings: Worksafe.
Notes: Written for the 10_whores community challenge. Theme set #3, prompt #07: disoriented.
Summary: Sometimes there is only one road to take and there is no saying where it will lead you in the end.

---

Broken path

In a way, they were both lost. Confused. Knocked off the right path. And somehow it drew them together. The minute Subaru came face to face with Nataku, the world seemed to slow to a lazy spin. In each other's eyes they saw something painfully familiar, something that haunted them both, but in a slightly different way. Their nightmares were not the same, their goals were not the same, and their loyalties lay in different people even if those people in question were as good as twins.

They never mentioned it, never spoke about it openly. They did not share their thoughts on their leaders, did not argue which one was right, did not try to convince the other that theirs was the right side and the right thing to fight for. It did not matter for them. They were always more comfortable in silence.

Soft sighs and silent whispers filled their nights which they did not spend together because they were madly in love. Their reason to be together was desperation and disorientation. They had met and found some similarities and stayed together only to explore how deep those similarities went. Both Nataku and Subaru were trying to reach new borders, wanting to see how far they could go before reality landed them hard onto the pavement of life and they were forced to return to their respective sides.

There was no emotional affection; there was only physical contact and an unspoken wish to see if their existence was worth something, if it made any difference at all. They knew that it would come to an end, maybe sooner than they predicted it, and then they would part and return to their destined paths to walk them with conviction. But they would never forget those silent moments when they could question the reasons, the need for them to fight this battle, to belong to their respective sides, and to be lost.

Because that was the thing they had seen in one another's eyes – the loneliness and knowledge that you are walking a path that's destined for you, but you do not know where it will take you.

Better place -/- X/1999

2007-08-29T15:12:46Z

Fandom: X/1999
Title: Better place
Warnings: Worksafe, unless you count in one small kiss.
Notes: Written for the 10_whores community challenge. Theme set #3, prompt #02: look to the sky.
Summary: A moment in time when the world suddenly seems not so bad.

---

Better place

She always looked so happy that it gave him some sort of a hope to see a better world one day. She did not dwell on the bad things, instead choosing to move on and take every day as it came. She could find many small pleasures in almost everything she did, but when they had to face the other seven... her face became a mask of grim determination and she was smiling no more. Her eyes shone with something he could not name even though he had seen it so many times in his sister's eyes and in the eyes of those countless people whom he had met while working as an onmyouji on call.

Subaru often wondered if that strange expression was a certain sense of fatality, a knowledge that nothing could be changed no matter how hard they tried, and that the outcome might not live up to their expectations. He never asked though. He had too many unanswered questions already and doubted anyone he knew could provide answers.

He did not question her; he never had. And on the only occasion she had collapsed against him in search of someone's shoulder to lean on, too grief-stricken and insecure about what the future held for all of them, Subaru had allowed himself to embrace her. Yuzuriha was strong, he knew it, but even the strongest of people sometimes broke down. She had just lost Inuki, the night was long and dark, and despair was lingering in the air like a foreboding and almost tangible haze.

She had pressed closer to him, shaking hands caught between their bodies and hot tears soaking his white shirt, but he did not care. It was irrelevant. He did not have to whisper reassuring nonsense to her, and she had not come to plead for a chance to see the old spirit dog for one last time.

Finality.
Fatality.
Preordained.
All preordained.

And they were just playing along with the music of some unknown great composer, stopping and stalling, and then jumping back in at the appropriate time. They cheered and lamented like well-tuned musical instruments, and one by one fell silent until a duet would remain. After that, there was the unknown. There was the silence and emptiness of that dreaded moment when music ceased and the world skipped a heartbeat.

But right now Yuzuriha was there and Subaru was there, and she had finally stopped crying, but he was still not letting go. And then it happened. She looked up at him, he leaned his head down to make sure she was all right, and somewhere in-between their lips met. A light touch, breath against breath, eyes wide open and void of emotion. It was over as soon as it had started. Meeting and separating, sharing a touch in the middle of infinity only to have it swept away in the tides of time.

Neither of them had backed away first, neither tried to pull away. They stood motionless for what seemed to be hours, their expressions calm and serious. When they finally parted, the sun had already risen. Both Seals had spent the remaining part of the night outside on the roof, sitting side by side and looking up at the sky as it lit up. Not a single word had been exchanged between them, eyes and hearts speaking louder and clearer in silence. And for a while, the world had seemed to be a better place to live in.

Cherished moments -/- FFVII Advent Children

2007-08-03T23:48:55Z

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Title: Cherished moments
Warnings: Shounen-ai, slash, minor sibling cuteness, self-beta (all screw-ups are my own).
Notes: Written for the 10settings community challenge. Theme set D, prompt #1: lake.
I wanted to get off my short-fic writing spree and create something longer. This pair seemed to be the right choice for it.
Summary: Lakes have many uses, especially those that are in the Sleeping Forest.
Kadaj and Yazoo share a moment that could have been, and some realizations are made.

---

Cherished moments

The world was slowly lighting up, the hitherto grey and shadow-filled world gaining more colour as the sunrise neared. No birds ever disturbed the silence of the Sleeping Forest where trees emanated a faint silver glow, the place being too sacred for something so worldly to be permitted entrance. Small ripples played across the clear, pale-green water even though there was no wind to disturb the surface of the lake. Whispers of the long-gone Ancients were the ones that stirred the peace and quiet of this part of the Forgotten City. Their enchanting presence was still lingering behind even if none of them remained in this world anymore. Some people thought the place was haunted and avoided coming near the Sleeping Forest, but the duo that lay sprawled on the holy ground, with their bodies half-submerged in the chilly water of the lake, did not care much about the echoes of beings long since dead.

The two young males did not fear those whispering shadows of ethereal presence for they had far worse echoes already haunting their minds. However, their personal ghosts were keeping silent at the moment, giving the two a time to rest from their presence. Lately, such moments had been very seldom and they chose to cherish every last one of them.

"Brother?" a silent voice whispered to his right and Yazoo turned his head to regard his brother. Kadaj had stopped calling him and the other clone, Loz, by their names few months prior to arriving at the borders of Midgar, and he would never once admit that it hurt him somehow. It meant that Kadaj, the youngest of the trio, was slipping further and further away from him, heading somewhere he could not follow. Somewhere his arms could not reach to hold him through the darkest hours, keeping him safe from the nightmares that haunted his mind more than the minds of the older brothers.

"Do you think Mother hates me?"

The question took Yazoo by surprise. He turned on his side, carefully studying the younger's pale face next to him, taking notice of the delicate frown on his forehead and the slight furrow of his silver brows. Kadaj had his eyes closed, denying him a further look into his thoughts, which he had really wanted to see.

"What makes you think that, Kadaj?" Yazoo thought it was important to keep using his name lest the teen forgot he was something else than just a 'Sephiroth Remnant', as they were called by their enemies. He wanted to remind him that they were more than just three pieces of one whole. They were, whether one chose to acknowledge it or not, separate entities, complete in the way they were.

Kadaj did not answer his question. He did not even know what had prompted him to ask something like that in the first place. Yazoo was not the person who knew the answers after all, so why had he expected him to reply with anything more than a countering question? The teen shook his head and for a moment debated inching closer to his older brother to feel his warmth because a sudden chill had crept up his spine. He blamed the cold water and his own obscure wish to sit in the lake instead of just sitting beside it, but he had been feeling feverish all day and hoped the water would chase it away.

Yazoo noticed Kadaj shiver and frowned. The water was chilly, he could handle it, but the teen was a different story altogether. "You are cold," he stated, watching the body beside him shiver again. "We should get out of the water." He made a move to get up, but Kadaj shook his head and reached out, green eyes snapping open and staring up at him imploringly.

Yazoo stilled and dropped his gaze down to regard the hand that had latched onto his wrist. It had been a while since Kadaj last touched him. Lately, the he seemed to be fleeing any kind of contact – physical and emotional alike – with his older brothers as if fearing his touch would do something to them, harm them in some way.

"Stay."

Yazoo did not find it in him to argue the order, silent as it was. The moments when he was allowed to be this close to Kadaj had grown so seldom that he cherished even the smallest and most insignificant things that involved just the two of them. Tentatively, he reached out to brush aside the silver strands falling in his brother's face, expecting to have his hand slapped away the minute Kadaj guessed his intention, but it did not happen.

Mesmerized, Yazoo watched delicate silver sliding through his leather-clad fingers, wondering at the contrasting colours and materials before his eyes met the identical greens of Kadaj. He could see his own reflection in them, so very similar to his own.

Their gazes had crossed before, but it was always during a battle or before it. The small child that had eagerly sought contact was gone, no trace of him had remained in those eyes that had once smiled and sparkled with joy, and Yazoo felt sadness and regret of not being able to preserve at least something, some small part of it. Despite the misleading aura of innocence, his little brother was changing more and more, and just as much as Yazoo, Kadaj, too, was afraid of those changes in himself. None of the three brothers knew where they were going to end up, considering the speed in which all the events were progressing in lately, but the ending could be nothing good.

Yazoo decided to break the silence first, since Kadaj was starting to shiver non-stop now. "You will freeze if we stay like this."

Still, the younger one did not want to leave. "Then let's go deeper."

Yazoo gave his brother an incredulous look, but the hand on his wrist tightened its hold and Kadaj sat up, making water ripple from his movement, determination clear in his facial expression. "Come."

Kadaj knew that both his brothers would follow him no matter where he led them, he knew Yazoo would never protest and always oblige, even if sometimes it drove him mad. Even if sometimes all the youngest of the clones wanted was the middle brother rebelling against him, snapping at him and knocking some sense back into his head. But he never did. He never would. He would just always tilt his head in that curious manner and follow along with his wishes.

Just like it was happening now.

Kadaj tugged on his brother's arm, leading them deeper into the lake, walking backwards and keeping his gaze locked within the older one's eyes to make sure he had complete control in this situation. Suddenly ground disappeared under Kadaj's feet and he was falling. Eyes widening in surprise, he managed to notice the distraught expression on Yazoo's face, the obvious concern for him, before he got pulled along as well. They were both sinking, but Kadaj felt no fear. His brother was with him. His brother would never let anything bad happen to him. Unbeknownst to himself, the younger clone was smiling while Yazoo was feeling an emotion close to panic.

Silver hair floated in the water, obscuring the view on Kadaj's face, and Yazoo reached out with his free hand, taking hold of his brother and bringing their bodies closer in an attempt to pause their descend. He more felt than saw Kadaj's glowed hand tangle in his long hair, pulling them together until their lips met and they were sharing one breath in a kiss impossibly slow and as sweet as sin.

They did not know when their ascent had started, but suddenly they broke the surface of the lake, lips immediately parting in desperate gasps for air. Water dripped down their hair and faces as they held on to one another for dear life, refusing to let go of that small sliver of freedom they had just felt, but it was already slipping away. They were never free. They were never their own.

"Brother," Kadaj whispered, letting Yazoo hold him and keep him afloat. The Remnant mourned the moment of silence he had experienced underwater – the complete absence of Mother's voice and the disappearance of the infinite reins of control someone else had had on him all this time. Mother was never pleased with his small breakaways, no matter how rare they were, and always struck back by whispering things in his ear. Things he did not want to hear, things that chilled him to the bone, things that he wished to be reality, things that were supposed to be his memory, but were not, and, most of all, – things that promised his rising above everyone else. "Brother..."

"Yes, Kadaj?" Yazoo queried silently, as if almost afraid to ask. He was trying to understand what those things, those thoughts flashing through his brother's eyes with lightning speed were, and yet he feared to understand. He dreaded to know the full extent of the things haunting his beloved brother, concerned that he would not be able to help him, that the youngest of their small, distorted family would leave him and Loz behind and go to a place where the older brothers would never be able to follow...

Relishing in the undivided attention he was getting, Kadaj grinned and shifted closer to his brother, intrigued by the warmth emanating from his body. "I'm not cold anymore," he announced in a hushed whisper, his eyes following a droplet of water rolling down Yazoo's ivory cheek.

A small smirk tugged at the older one's lips at the expression of devilish happiness on his brother's face, and all the concern was wiped from his mind, if only for a moment. Kadaj always looked that way when he had won a fight against someone, when he had gained something he had wanted, no matter how insignificant. To him, every small victory counted. This, coincidentally, was also the expression he got when he was about to do something reckless, confident that nothing and no one would get in his way.

Without a warning, Yazoo found himself getting dragged underwater again, his brother's mouth pressed against his, seeking to control and dominate the way the youngest was used to. Lips against lips, bodies pressed together, and then they were sinking for a moment as long as eternity and as short as a heartbeat before they resurfaced again. Kadaj had his hands tangled in his brother's silver hair, now wet and darkened to ashen grey, and his eyes searched the identical emerald-greens of his brother for any trace that would ask him to stop or plead to continue, but was met with a twinkle of curiosity instead. Yazoo reached out to brush his brother's damp hair away from his face, revealing the side he was always hiding from view. He did not think much of the moment, of his brother's actions, being more concerned about his health that had seemed to deteriorate in the course of the past few weeks. He was still not convinced that Kadaj was feeling better, no matter what their leader was insisting on.

"Brother?" Kadaj queried uncertainly.

"Yes, Kadaj?" Yazoo was going to use that name over and over again until his brother understood that he belonged only to himself, that he was not just a part of someone else. But it all seemed to be in vain, and he was starting to feel desperation creeping up.

"Do you hate me?"

Yazoo studied his younger brother, his leader, his reason to live, for a long while. The silence extended around them, turning Kadaj more and more sullen, making him draw further back in his shell before the other chose to pull him out of it, even if for a second.

"No. You are my brother. I would never hate you." He paused, looking deeply into the other's eyes, making sure he would be heard and understood before he proceeded. "But do you hate me, Kadaj?"

Kadaj looked taken aback for a moment. He had expected many things; perhaps even outright loathing from his brother, but nothing had even closely resembled this one.

"Why? Why would you ask that, brother?"

Yazoo smiled serenely as he toyed with a wet strand of Kadaj's silvery hair, feeling a small stab of regret for not being able to get his brother to not call him by his name. "You never use my name anymore. Did I do anything to anger you, Kadaj? Did I somehow upset you, my brother?"

Kadaj inclined his head slightly, carefully thinking over his answer. He was not upset with his older brothers; he could never be, regardless of what they did. The only exception would be their betrayal, which would hurt him deeply, but the young leader knew they would never do that to him. "No, brother. Never."

"Then why won't you call me by my name?" Yazoo pressed on, determinate to receive a direct answer. "Am I not worthy having my name spoken by your lips?"

Kadaj shook his head hastily, small water droplets scattering around in the air before becoming united with the rippling water surface again. "No. No, brother. Never. You are very much worth it."

"Oh? Would you like to share your reasons, then?" Yazoo arched one delicate eyebrow, eager to hear his brother speak of things other than Mother and Reunion, which were so rare nowadays. Earlier, they had conversed about freedom and all those small and strange things they had encountered on their way, but the number of those talks had started to dwindle, and eventually cease altogether. Kadaj had stopped wondering about the world and turned into the icy and ruthless being he was now. Truth be told, the youngest of the trio had never been naïve, had never been gentle, but he had, at least, questioned things, showing his interest in anything else but that inexplicable drive to find Mother.

Green eyes narrowed in suspicion like they always did when Kadaj sensed something out of place, something that raised questions. He had come to hate questions because not all of them could be answered and most of the time the answers he received would only create more questions. He had come to realize that he liked, to some extent, predictable things. He liked his steps being spelled out for him, he liked to know how the events would unfold beforehand, but there was always a line beyond which he could not see, and it irked him greatly.

"Kadaj..." Yazoo's voice was silent and smooth, but never gentle. He was demanding an answer in that subtle tone. If one was not careful enough, it was all too easy to get lost in that velvety smoothness of his voice, so mesmerizing and spellbinding that, from time to time, even Kadaj allowed himself to submit to the dangerous allure, addicted to the strange thrill of knowing that he was being led away from reality. But he was always safe because he knew that his brother would always keep him safe.

Tentatively, Kadaj leaned in closer to his older brother's ear, almost brushing his nose against it, to whisper, "Maybe I just don't want anyone else to hear how I say your name. Yazoo." Kadaj was grinning now, having taken notice of that tiny shiver that had passed through the other's lean body. "Yazoo," he drawled again just to see if it would bring about the same reaction again.

"I wish you'd say it more often, Kadaj." Yazoo brought his hand up to twine his fingers into his brother's silvery hair; a gesture that had always comforted the youngest one back in the day when he had been more responsive to physical shows of affection, of appreciation, a sign that someone else was there, next to him, always ready to defend and protect if the situation called upon it. Now, even a reassuring hand on his shoulder was not accepted by Kadaj as easily as it had been earlier.

Kadaj did not respond. He only shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and pulled away from his brother. The chilly water was starting to annoy him and he wanted to get out of it.

Yazoo frowned slightly at the sudden rejection. It was still hard for him to get used to his brother's unstable mood and constantly changing thoughts, even if it had started several months ago. Nevertheless, he followed Kadaj out of the water, taking notice of the small shivers racking his brother's slender form as he became more and more exposed to the crisp morning air. He had to bite back a chuckle, seeing the disapproving look on the youngest one's face when he realized that, leather or not, sodden wet clothes were not a pleasant thing. Kadaj shot back a threatening look at his older brother, sensing his amusement, but could not resist a crooked grin upon noticing the twinkle of merriment in Yazoo's emerald eyes.

"Would you like me to keep you warm until the sun rises high enough, brother?" Yazoo arched one silver eyebrow, slowly emerging from the water as well, and Kadaj allowed that silky voice work its magic on him.

"Keep me warm," he demanded from the older clone, suppressing the shiver of anticipation as he already envisioned his brother's arms encircling him in a protective hold, keeping him safe even if there was no real need for it and he was more than capable of taking care of himself. With inexplicable eagerness he leaned in to his brother's touch, relaxing against the other's warm chest, and wondered why it was that their bodies fit together so perfectly.

Yazoo's grip tightened, his chin coming to rest atop Kadaj's head, and he silently wondered why did everything had to be so complicated for them when there were always other ways. But then again, – taking the easiest path was never meant for them. And even if they could, they would never choose shortcuts, preferring all the hardships that were thrown their way because they made them stronger.

Yazoo smiled faintly, unaware that Kadaj had leaned his head back against his shoulder, green eyes studying his face intently, and the older clone completely missed the small smile appearing on his brother's lips.

Blunt -/- Saiyuki

2007-07-15T03:12:32Z

Fandom: Saiyuki
Title: Blunt
Warnings: Slightly humorous, rather nonsensical. Worksafe, all-in-all.
Notes: Written for the 10_whores community challenge. Theme set #1, prompt #04: a blunt object.
Summary: Genjo Sanzo versus Yaone.

---

Blunt

She was one of Kougaiji's little followers; that much he knew. What he was not sure of, was her name. The priest was not really surprised, being attacked out of the blue. He was already used to that. He was not impressed with her, either. Not after that pathetic assassination attempt she had tried to perform on him just now, catching him wandering alone in the woods. He had just strayed from the group to have a smoke or two in peace and quiet. Instead, he had landed in... Well, he was not really sure where he had landed this time. She was not yelling death threats, she was not salivating all over the place and proclaiming to have him for breakfast. (Actually, it would be more like an early lunch, given the time of day, but that was not the point.) No, none of that. She had just strolled out of the bushes, frozen still upon noticing him, and the next thing the priest knew he was defending himself against rather mal-coordinated attacks. The spear she was using had gone quite blunt from the countless times she had struck wood instead of the monk she was trying to kill.

Yaone kept missing and missing again while Sanzo dodged and ducked, not really defending himself. He did not need to, apparently, because she kept striking empty air and trees. If she would take a look back, she could see the path this one-sided fight had left behind. But she did not look back, continuing to attack with no results. And quite frankly, her heart was not in the fight and her mind kept straying to the real reason why she had come this way.

Sanzo snorted to himself and contemplated lighting up a cigarette, but she would not let him stop for long enough, and the constant moving around would just put it out. The female demon was exhausted, he could tell, yet she was not giving up quite yet. Exasperated and annoyed, Sanzo reached out and took hold of the spear that swished dangerously near his head. He pulled and felt the weapon sliding out of her grip.

Yaone stumbled, suddenly without a weapon to defend herself, but managed to stay on her feet. Unsure what to make of this situation now that she had lost offensive, the female demon blinked and straightened herself, waiting for what was to come.

Sanzo took notice of the scrapes and dents all over the metal end of the spear, its tip broken off and resting in one of the thick trees several meters behind them. The blunt weapon could lave nothing more than scrapes and bruises now, useless to her as it was.

The monk scoffed and threw the weapon aside. He had noticed how distracted she was during the fight. Then again, maybe Kougaiji's servants just were that way. "Go home."

Yaone blinked again. Well, she had not come here to kill the Sanzo priest, but find Kougaiji's little sister who had run off again. Seeing the monk just had triggered something inside her, prompting the female demon to attack.

And thus, they parted with no hard feelings towards one another, and returned to their everyday lives. One – beating monkeys and lecherous water demons with a fan, the other – running around and looking for wayward demon princess and worrying herself sick about the older brother of the said princess.
The life continued.

Silence -/- Saiyuki

2007-07-15T03:08:48Z

Fandom: Saiyuki
Title: Silence
Warnings: None that I could think of.
Notes: Written for the 10_whores community challenge. Theme set #1, prompt #02: sake.
Summary: Genjo Sanzo and Hazel Grosse. Thoughts and revelations.

---

Silence

He must have been drunk beyond all sense, Sanzo reasoned with himself, to have ended up in a situation like this. And it was truly not a wonder, – the sake back in the last town had been exceptionally good, to the point when one did not even want to rise from the table, too caught up in consuming the burning liquid. Which, he suspected was the reason why he was out here, in this mountain-riddled desert wasteland, sitting on a rock and smoking his fifth cigarette in a row. It must have also been a reason why the foreign priest sat on a rock to his left, subtly coughing every now and then, as if to demonstrate his distaste in the action the monk was so engaged in.

Sanzo did not care. He was rather immersed in trying to figure out how the hell had he managed to end up so far outside the town, separated from the rest of his group, and with the life-manipulating Western priest, no less. He frowned, still feeling the alcohol swirling in his system. Damn, that had been some quite strong sake.

Hazel fidgeted, the rock being a rather uncomfortable place for sitting (but he had had worse), and attempted to get Sanzo's attention for what had to be the thousandth time that day. Still, there was no response. The monk only flicked the filter away and reached for another cigarette. Hazel raised a hand to demonstratively chase the smoke away.

It was silence. Always silence. Whenever Sanzo was faced with something he did not want to confront, he engulfed himself if silence, forcing the outside world at bay. For Hazel, silence was the time when he conversed with his God, with the power that allowed him to bring the deceased people back to life. The relationship between the two priests could also be described with that one word, and either of the two could make what he wanted out of it. The word had so many different layers, and now, silence was what ruled the space between them.

It was the sake, definitely the sake. Otherwise they would not be sitting in the middle of nowhere, pondering something nonexistent. Neither of them would be sharing the same space in the silence that spoke louder and clearer than thousands of words.

Yes. It must have been the sake.