Strange Tales

[FIC] Various

2008-07-28T07:14:06Z

THIS! IS! FICDUUUUUUMP!

Which is to say: there are 1.5 fics of moderate length that I'm working on, and my "IN PROGRESS" document is getting a little cluttered with random drabbles I never came back to. So I'm posting them here so that they can have a permanent home. These are unedited and unfinished, for the most part. Reader beware, and all that.

Amatsuki: Young Byakuroku and Tsuyukusa's father, 226 words

He was young when the humans first arrived.

They brought with them the tools of their trade-- saws and hammers for the workmen, bells and incense for the priests. As the first group hacked at the first of the trees, the priests chanted and gestured as though their piety would protect them from what lay within the unknown depths of the forest. Though they feared for their safety, they remained convinced of their own righteousness.

Byakuroku had been reminded of the single-minded destructive determination of termites.

"Leave them in peace," his master had murmured. "All creatures deserve a place to live. Humans are no different."

"But the forest is ours," Byakuroku argued. His tail coiled and uncoiled, scales rasping against one another in his anxiousness.

With a sigh, his master cupped Byakuroku's jaw with the palm of his hand. When he spoke, his voice was gentle. "Byakuroku, the forest is large. We can spare a small section for them. Besides, what would happen if we argued with them? Before the ground had even absorbed their blood, more humans would arrive. And then they would want the whole of the forest."

An irritated hiss escaped Byakuroku's lips, but he merely nodded his head and leaned into his master's touch.

But as the humans continued their work, he kept an eye on them, just in case.

Genjuu no Seiza: Fuuto, 116 words

Fuuto dreamed of sand and clear skies. Outside the sun-bleached walls of his palace, there was nothing but nothing for miles in every direction. But under the many glittering arches and green trellises, the colorful mosaics were cool under his bare feet. Soft strains of exotic music drifted through an open window.

Sometimes he was male, sometimes female. Tall, short, lean, curvacious. Dark skin, light skin, all manner and styles of hair-- but every body felt as comfortable as the flowing silk draped over his chest, felt familiar like the faint smell of incense drifting through the air.

He woke up with the words of a language he didn't speak still on his tongue.

Elixir/Petshop of Horrors: Lorenzo and D, 116 words

It wasn't unheard of for a traveller from the Orient to make the treacherous journey drown the full length of the Silk Road, though it was hardly common. Even in the strangest of his social circles, Lorenzo had only met a few, and they had all been merchants. And despite their unique faces and strange mannerisms, a merchant was a merchant. Rather than entertain his elaborately pantomimed questions, they had been more interested in selling him a bolt of travel-worn silk.

He had found them exceedingly boring.

They were certainly nothing like the man he found in the exclusive salons of Istanbul. He was all sharp-edged smiles and elegant gestures, a perfect combination of ivory skin and vermillion silks. Despite himself, Lorenzo was captivated.

"You're too kind," the Count murmured, closing his fan with a snap. He set it on the low table to accept the small cake Lorenzo had seduced out of the pastry girl. His long nails brushed over the inside of Lorenzo's wrist.

Elixir/Petshop of Horrors: Lorenzo/D (NSFW), 234 words

The inside of D's thigh was as smooth and pale as fine silk against Lorenzo's lips. He drew the man's leg up to hook it over his shoulder, pressing his cheek to the pulse he could feel there. "You're getting better," he murmured against the skin, enjoying the breathless laugh it drew from D.

"Oh? Is my performance still not, ah, satisfactory, prince?" D's back arched, his head falling back against the perfumed pile of pillows as Lorenzo pressed another kiss to the crease of his thigh. His smile was as unreadable as always, despite his flushed cheeks and opulent brocade gown unfastened and lying open around over his shoulders. One long-nailed hand lazily stroked through Lorenzo's unruly hair.

"Mm. Your accent still needs work, I'm afraid." Lorenzo ghosted his breath over D's cock. D's whole frame shuddered in response, and Lorenzo found himself wanting to mirror the action at the soft moan that escaped D's lips.

The elegant fingers in Lorenzo's hair tightened almost painfully as D tugged his head to regard him with amusement. "Then I should... consider myself lucky to have such a dedicated teacher, I suppose." D's mismatched eyes were briefly hidden, his lids lowering as Lorenzo's gloved fingers wrapped around his cock. When he opened them again, their gaze was hypnotizing. "You have my, nn, gratitude, caro mio."

"Slightly better," Lorenzo said, grinning, and leaned in to kiss him.

[FIC] Amatsuki

2008-07-28T07:13:36Z

Title: Truth In Appearances
Author: chibimazoku
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Graphic description of an injury.
Word Count: 599 words
Summary: - Amatsuki, Ginshu/Bonten: genderswitch/lesbians - a prince and her bird

The hardest part was figuring out how she was going to explain away all the blood.

Fetching towels from the kitchens would lead to questions, especially when she failed to return them later. And she couldn't very well soil her clothing without causing a panic. But the bleeding of ayakashi's wounded back showed no signs of stopping on its own. Ginshu watched the blood pool sluggishly in the dirt around the slight, pale form, and made a decision.

Her sandals slipped on the blood-soaked ground as she ran back inside the barrier. She didn't know if the blood belonged to her ayakashi--it was only logical to think of him that way, wasn't it?--or the grotesque spider-creature, and she hardly wanted to know. Leaving the injured ayakshi vulnerable at the gate didn't sit well with her, but there was no helping it. She needed the sheets from her futon to wrap him in. After all, bloody sheets were hardly uncommon in a shrine full of women.

When she returned, the sheets clutched tightly under one arm, the ayakashi was still unconscious. Ginshu found herself giggling in a detached sort of morbid humor as the thought crossed her mind that this was the first time she'd ever seen him be quiet. Hands trembling, she carefully wrapped the sheet around his back. Red spots immediately blossomed on the white fabric.

The ayakashi was easier to carry than she would have expected. Then again, she thought that she had read somewhere that birds had hollow bones, which would certainly explain it. The lightness of her burden meant that the nerve-wracking trip around the edge of the woods to the least used of the storehouses took hardly any time at all, but every moment seemed an eternity. Surely each crack of twigs, each distant sound of voices meant that the other priestesses were about to discover her. But the journey was uneventful, and soon she was able to open the heavy doors of the storehouse and deposit the ayakashi in the cool darkness inside. The floor was hard on her knees as she unwrapped the sheet.

"You certainly are a lot of trouble," Ginshu whispered, surprised by the tremble she heard in her own voice. She brushed a bit of light-colored hair from the ayakashi's forehead. Even unconscious, his face was tight with pain.

Peeling off the ayakashi's shirt was an exercise in careful brutality. Before she could untie the knots holding it on, it was necessary to unstick them from the mass of raw flesh and ruined feathers that was the ayakashi's back. One wing had been ripped off more cleanly than the other, leaving only bloody down and a gaping wound behind. She wondered if he had struggled more with the second one. The bone still protruded from the skin, bits of muscle and bent feathers clinging in strips to it. It was unbearable to look at and fascinating at the same time. She found it terrifyingly incredible that the ayakashi had managed to hold onto consciousness for as long as he had, considering the unbearable pain the wounds must have caused him.

But the real surprise came when the shirt was finally removed. With short hair, brusque speech, and such casual clothing, Ginshu had assumed the ayakashi to be male. But there were the unmistakable buds of developing breasts on the newly-revealed chest. A girl, then, though one would never know it from her behavior.

Ginshu let out a startled breath. "We have more in common than I thought," she murmured, and went to find the bandages.

[FIC] Black Butler

2008-07-28T07:12:38Z

Title: Bhadrakali
Author: chibimazoku
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 705 words
Summary: - Black Butler, Soma/Agni: closeness - a hand blessed by the gods
Notes: ... I may have gotten mixed up on when this fic was actually due, in which case I apologize for the lateness! I AM SO SCATTERBRAINED RIGHT NOW. Ahahaha orz.

His nights, for the most part, belonged to her. She came to him all but silently, only the soft jingle of her golden anklets giving her approach away.

"My lady," Agni whispered, preparing to prostate himself before her.

Her laughter was a primal exaltation as she lifted him to his feet. "My child," she said, "oh, my child."

---

In the harsh heat of the day, the light reflecting off of Soma's brilliant adornments made him difficult to stare at directly. Even when he reclined in the shade of one of the garden's many pavilions, as he did now, Agni was struck by his resemblance to the sun. Regally resting upon a nest of brightly-patterned pillows with a finely-patterned china tea cup in his hands, Soma looked every inch the prince he was.

A moment later, however, he ruined the illusion by setting the cup down with a clatter upon its tray. "I'm tired, Agni," he said, punctuating his words with a huge yawn.

Agni bowed his head. "Do you wish to rest, my prince?"

"Mm, I guess so. Why not?" A mischievous smile spread across his face, making him look even younger than he already was. "I want a better pillow, though."

"A... pillow, my prince?" Agni glanced at the pile already inside the pavilion, perched upon airy silks and the skin of a tiger. "But--"

Soma laughed. "Come here, Agni." He extended one elegant hand, and with another bow, Agni did as he was bid. "Now sit down. No, not there. Right here."

Slightly confused, Agni allowed himself to be poked and prodded, shifting his legs until he found a position that Soma deemed acceptable. With that taken care of, Soma gave another great yawn and proceeded to pillow his head in Agni's lap.

"My prince--" Agni began, feeling his face heat. He couldn't claim the position was unfamiliar to him, though it brought to mind nothing but his-- Arshad's-- history of indecencies. Nothing he was willing to associate with the beautiful, selfish, magnificent boy resting on him now.

"Shhh," Soma admonished. "I'm trying to sleep."

And so Agni said nothing.

---

Her breath smelled like the incense and slowly-rotting flowers left upon her altar. She took his hand, for once unbandaged and bare, between two of her own. Another cupped his chin to tilt his head up so that she could better look into his face.

Agni tried not to stare too long into her eyes. There was a dizzying blackness there, a swirling power that could drive even the stoutest of men mad. Someone like himself would stand no chance at all.

---

"Do you know why I named you Agni?" Soma murmured sleepily against Agni's thigh.

Agni mutely shook his head, not trusting his own voice, before he remembered that his master would not be able to see the action. "I do not," he said instead.

"Fire is beautiful, isn't it? But if it burns too brightly, it'll eat through everything in its path." Soma was staring up at him now, an unreadable expression on his young face. "That's what you looked like when I first saw you. You were lovely, but you'd consumed everything around you, and were in danger of being extinguished."

There was more truth in Soma's words than he could even begin to realize, Agni reflected. His chest tightened when he remembered the stained and scuffed wood of the public execution grounds, his unwashed hair hanging in his face as he prepared for his death.

He was startled out of his reverie by a gentle tug on his beaded strand of hair, his only physical reminder of his past life.

"And I thought that it would be a shame not to rekindle that fire. So, you're Agni, now," Soma continued, letting go of Agni's hair. A broad, if slightly sleepy grin illuminated his face. "And you're my fire."

"As you wish, my prince," Agni said, smiling down at his god.

---

The skulls on her necklace clacked against each other as she tugged him into her husband's dance. It was creation, it was destruction. It was eternity and the inner workings of life.

Agni smiled.

[FIC] Amatsuki

2008-07-28T07:12:04Z

Title: Shiritori
Author: chibimazoku
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 548 words
Summary: - Amatsuki, Ginshu/Hiwa: outdoor sex - keeping warm

"Uh, yaki imo."

"Mochi."

Hiwa scowled down at the freshly-fallen snow as though he both blamed it for his lack of inspiration and expected it to somehow remedy the situation.

"Byakuroku-san?" Ginshu asked, his voice gone mischievous. "Don't you have an answer to that?"

"Shut up, I'm thinking! Chi... um... chi..." Hiwa kicked the snow in disgust. Fine flakes scattered wetly in every direction. "Augh, there isn't any kind of food that starts with chi!"

Ginshu, who had hidden on the other side of the tree with a shriek of mock fear when Hiwa had expressed his frustration, peered around the side of the trunk with a sly smile. "My, does this mean I've won?"

Still sulkily glaring at the ground, Hiwa nodded mutely.

"Then, the question is mine, I suppose?"

That earned him a roll of Hiwa's eyes. "You know it is. Quit dawdling and get it over with, already."

"Hmm..." Though Ginshu did his best to appear as though he was deep in serious thought, the edges of his lips kept twitching into a smile. In Hiwa's mind, that was hardly a good sign. "Perhaps I should ask why Byakuroku-san couldn't seem to come up with something as simple as 'chikuwa'? Or 'chimaki'? Or-- uwah!"

With a growl, Hiwa launched himself at the giggling princess. Ginshu's back hit the snowy ground with a muffled thump. The ayakashi's hands encircled Ginshu's wrists, pinning them down, but careful not to let his claws scrape the skin.

"Honestly, Byakuroku-san!" Ginshu pouted up at him. "That was uncalled for!"

Hiwa finally let a bit of a grin flicker over his face. It was impossible not to be amused by the way Ginshu's hair was spread out under him in a dark halo on the snow, miscellaneous strands covering his face in a messy webbing. A few strands had gotten stuck on his bottom lip. Ginshu blew at it ineffectually until Hiwa took pity on him to let go of one wrist long enough to peel the hair from his skin. As the clawed tip of his index finger traced the curve of Ginshu's lower lip, Ginshu inhaled sharply, a faint blush staining his pale cheeks pink. Hiwa was suddenly very aware of their proximity and the way their bodies fit together as he leaned over the human.

Ginshu's voice was low when he spoke again. "Byakuroku-san, maybe you should let me up? The back of my robes are getting wet, and it's sort of cold..."

All too cognizant of his own rapidly reddening face, Hiwa ignored the request. Ginshu's lips were cool from the winter air, but the inside of his mouth was anything but as he kissed him. After a moment, he realized that he must have released Ginshu's wrists, because the human's arms were wrapped comfortably around him.

"I know what my question is," Ginshu murmured against the edge of Hiwa's mouth. He slid one hand up under the back of Hiwa's haori and over the bare skin underneath. The tips of his fingers just barely skated over the edge of the mess of scars and remaining down that was his upper back. "Will you keep me warm, I wonder?"

Hiwa's faint puff of laughter as the ayakashi kissed him again was enough of an answer.

[FIC] Amatsuki

2008-07-28T07:11:19Z

Title: Unfamiliar Ground
Fandom: Amatsuki
Pairing: vines/Hiwa
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 742 words
Warnings: Non-con, tentacles.

Byakuroku had always warned him not to stray too far into this part of the woods. And, for the most part, Hiwa hadn't ever had any reason to disobey him. It wasn't exactly a pleasant sort of place, after all--it was filled with hanging vines and unsettling whispers. Even the ubiquitous minor ayakashi avoided the area.

And that was why Hiwa had finally gotten up the nerve to venture inside. He was tired of the jeering and malicious murmuring. Technically, he could have run to Byakuroku, who was off sunning himself in a nearby clearing, but that rankled his pride.

As he moved from tree to tree, a long vine caught him square in the face. Hiwa brushed it aside with an irritated growl and moved on. But just as he was about to land on the next branch, something caught him around the neck and tugged him sharply back--and up. It was the vine.

Hiwa clawed in a blind panic at the rope-like greenery slowly choking him. Before he could experience anything more than fear and shortness of breath, the pressure around his neck loosened slightly. More vines snaked around his wrists and ankles, effectively restraining him. All Hiwa could do was twist ineffectually in his hanging prison, his wings fluttering uselessly.

He thought somewhat desperately of a moth caught in a spider's web. Were the vines going to eat him? No, that was ridiculous--they were plants.

Another vine, thicker than the rest, approached him from the front. It seemed to regard him for a moment before slipping up the front of his shirt. The tapered tip of the vine flicked over, then curled around one of his nipples. Hiwa gave a start, squirming uncomfortably. "W-what the hell?!" he squawked.

He immediately regretted finding his voice. A moment later, he found himself choking on another of the thick vines, effectively gagging him. All he could do was give a muffled cry as another vine--how may were there?!--slithered down one leg of his pants, giving a sharp upward tug and ripping them off.

The cool air was uncomfortable on his bare skin, and Hiwa shivered. That was when the vine that had disposed of his pants suddenly dragged over his exposed cock. This sent a shudder through his body, which was apparently all the encouragement the vine needed to wrap around it. The surface of the vine was smooth and cool on his skin.

"Stop it!" Hiwa tried to shout, but the vine forcing his jaws apart prevented any intelligible words from coming out. "Stop it, stop it, stop it!"

But the vine didn't stop. It squeezed his cock almost painfully hard before loosening the coils, only to repeat the action again and again. A clear, viscous liquid was leaking from the vine, lubricating its movements. The sensation it sent through Hiwa's body was one of pleasure, as much as the thought made his skin crawl. That conflict of feelings was enough to temporarily distract him from noticing one of the tapered vines, also leaking the strange liquid, sliding over his ass. Nothing could keep him from realizing it when the vine slowly began to ease the tip inside him, however.

Hiwa shouted again, then screamed, twisting the best he could. But it was no use. The vine just kept sliding further and further inside, growing in thickness as it did. It was uncomfortable, it was awful, and the vine on his cock wouldn't stop moving. He screamed over and over again, but all it did was make him hoarse. And the pleasurable feeling didn't go away. It built as the vine thrust inside him, flicking against a spot inside him that made his whole body spasm, as the other one twisted around his cock. He felt impossibly filled, his mouth and ass forced open.

After what felt like an eternity, his body jerked and twitched and he gave a hoarse cry as he came. But the vines still didn't withdraw. When Hiwa felt hot liquid on his cheeks, he told himself that he absolutely wasn't crying. And when some indefinite period of time later he heard an angry hiss and cool, familiar arms pulling him from the vines' grasp, he unashamedly clung to Byakuroku.

Clawed fingers stroked his hair. "Oh, Hiwa. Hiwa, I warned you-- are you all right? My little bird..."

Hiwa just buried his face in Byakuroku's shoulder.

[FIC] Tales of Rebirth

2008-05-04T02:04:59Z

Title: Soft To The Touch
Fandom: Tales of Rebirth
Pairing: Eugene/Mao
Rating: R
Word Count: 563 words
Notes: Written for Porn Battle over at Insane Journal. Prompt: "Tales of Rebirth, Eugene/Mao, tenderness."

"You're sure you're okay?" Mao asked for what felt like the hundredth time. As though he didn't have Eugene flat on his back on the cheap, squeaky inn bed, wasn't perched on his stomach where he'd be able to feel the inevitable tensing of muscles that would signify pain. "Naaa, commander, when someone asks you a question, you're supposed to answer them, you know? It's only polite."

Eugene snorted. "I told you I was fine. Is it polite to keep badgering someone after they've already answered?" he said, his patiently teasing tone stealing any sharpness from the words. His voice was a familiar rumble despite the slight rawness in the throat that inevitably followed a hastily-swallowed Life Bottle.

With a great sigh, Mao flopped forwards to brace his hands on either side of Eugene's head on the pillow. "But that last monster was really something! You were out cold for a long time! And I think I might have singed your ear a little when I killed it, oops..." He trailed off, one small hand brushing over the short, soft fur at the back of one of Eugene's ears. The ear twitched, which was sort of funny, so he did it again.

A large, rough-padded hand closed around Mao's wrist, easily dwarfing the boy's hand in size at least twice over. Eugene pulled Mao's hand down from his face. "I'm fine. Honestly."

In response, Mao chewed on his lip, oddly quiet for once. But it didn't last for long. A moment later, a broad grin stretched over his face, and he buried his face in Eugene's neck. "Okay, okay! But don't make me worry like that again, got it? Or I'll have to come up with an extra special Mao-brand punishment for you!" He shifted on Eugene's stomach, fur tickling the inside of his thighs as he brushed his lips over the Gajuma's neck and nipped at his pulse.

Eugene released the Mao's wrist and moved both hands to his slim hips instead. He rested them there, not even having to really hold onto Mao, as with his size, his fingertips could meet over the boy's stomach. A low noise rose in his throat, somewhere between a growl and a purr, as Mao squirmed atop him, but Eugene held himself back. Mao had been a good soldier, and was an even better traveling companion, but he was still a Huma, and a young one at that. It would be so easy to accidentally harm him. Better to not move at all, rather than risking Mao breaking like the delicate doll he looked like.

But as always, all it took was another flash of the boy's grin, as hot and maddening as the fire he controlled, for Eugene's self-control to weaken. Just slightly, but that was enough, and after that it it was all fur against pale, smooth skin. Hands clutching at Eugene's shoulders as Mao rode him, rubbed against him, cried out for him.

Mao was beautiful like this, hair mussed and body sweat-slicked. But it was Mao who laughed, high and clear, and said, "Commander's so handsome~" afterwards when they were curled up in an impromptu nest of blankets on the bed.

"Mmmm," Eugene murmured, too content to argue. He had nearly closed his eyes when Mao's smile turned wicked.

"But now I've got fur in my mouth again... what a pain."

[FIC] Black Butler

2008-05-04T02:04:21Z

Title: Powerless
Fandom: Black Butler
Pairing: Sebastian/Soma
Rating: hard R/NC-17
Word Count: 264 words
Notes: Written for Porn Battle over at Insane Journal. Prompt: "Black Butler, Sebastian/Soma, You have no power here."

Soma shrank back against the wall, his shoulder knocking against the painting hanging there. It hurt, the sharp edge of the frame digging into his skin, but he only noticed the pain in a detached, distant sort of way. His attention was devoted to other things.

"My," Sebastian murmured. One gloved hand shot out to straighten the painting, which conveniently positioned him directly over Soma. Up close, the crisply pressed lines of his suit did little to disguise the lean muscle of his form, the deadly grace barely concealed under an illusion of propriety. But the butler's usual polite mask was not in place. Instead, a deadly mocking smile stretched his lips into a broad smirk. "You should have more respect for other people's furnishings."

"I-- I order you to leave me--" Soma hated the way his voice shook, the way he sounded like the scared child he absolutely should not be, especially in a situation like this. Sebastian's lips were cool as they brushed against the nape of his neck, making Soma shiver with each exhalation. His long-fingered hands dragged down the front of Soma's tunic. Soma knew he should push him away, should move, should something, but the bolt of terror-stricken arousal racing down his spine froze him in place.

"Order?" Sebastian's hand was lower now, tracing over the front of Soma's pants. He chuckled low in his throat. "You have no power here, prince."

When his hand closed around Soma's cock through the thin material of his pants, Soma closed his eyes and tried not to think of Agni.

[FIC] Amatsuki

2008-05-04T02:03:30Z

Title: First Meetings
Fandom: Amastuki (AU)
Pairing: hints of Ginshu/Hiwa
Rating: PG
Word Count: 770 words
Notes: So, uh, yesterday I offhandedly mentioned to inarticulate that Ginshu was basically a scandalous court lady without actually being one. Somehow this turned into a discussion of an Amatsuki Heian AU with courtlady!Ginshu and servingboy!Hiwa.

Also go here for more in this universe.

Splinters off the wooden handle of the bucket cut into Hiwa's hands as he slowly lugged it across the yard. Every time he stumbled, water splashed up onto his hands and chilled them further in the cold morning air. He had the sneaking suspicion that he was being taken advantage of due to his status as the newest of the servants, but that wasn't anything he could complain about, even to Byakuroku. Not without making himself an even bigger target for the other ayakashi servants. And it wasn't as though he could talk to the human servants about it. They'd threatened to clip his wings if he caused any trouble.

Lost in thought, his feet slipped on a patch of ice hidden by the freshly-fallen snow. The next thing he knew, he was falling, the bucket's contents spilling out onto him before it clattered to the ground. Hiwa's back hit the ground hard, knocking the breath from him. Great, he thought as he gasped for air. Just great. The water was soaking into his clothes and hair, and he could already feel himself beginning to shiver.

"My, are you all right?"

As breath came whooshing back into his lungs, Hiwa sprang to his feet and rounded sharply on the source of the voice. "Screw you, oka--" The rest of the retort died on his lips.

In a nearby building, a young court lady, still only half dressed and long hair hanging loose, was peeking through a sliding screen at him. One sleeve was covering mouth in surprise. For a long moment, she simply stared at Hiwa, eyes wide. Then she began to giggle.

"U-um..." Hiwa stuttered. "Look, I didn't mean... uh..."

The lady giggled again, dropping the concealing sleeve. Her face was open and pretty, and their was no hint of mockery in her smile. "You must be freezing out there," she said softly. "Why don't you come in for a bit?"

Hiwa wasn't exactly sure why he agreed. Maybe it was because he was so cold. But the next thing he knew, he had nodded mutely was climbing onto the porch and was following her inside. This was going to get him in trouble, he could tell. An ayakashi servant, especially in his position, in a lady's room? Of course, he'd spilled the bucket, so it wasn't as though he wasn't already in trouble.

The lady's room was warm and smelled faintly of incense. She slid the screen shut behind him and placed her finger to his lips in a shushing gesture. "They've just been in to give me my tea," she whispered, a secretive smile dancing over her features, "so we've got a few minutes before anyone comes back."

A steaming cup of tea was pressed into Hiwa's hands and warmth immediately began to spread through his body. "I... thanks," he muttered embarrassedly. He held it awkwardly, unsure if he was allowed to drink it or not. Now that he wasn't so cold, his back was starting to ache from his earlier fall. His left wing felt especially tender. Frowning slightly, he gently flexed it.

"Oh!" The lady's soft exclamation of surprise caused Hiwa to quickly snap his wings closed. He glared up at her a bit defensively.

"No, no," she said. "Do it again. I think you've... bent a feather."

Hiwa stared at her suspiciously. But bent feathers weren't anything he could fix by himself, so he spread his wings. The lady leaned in close, bringing with her a slightly different incense scent than the one the room held. Hiwa liked this one better-- it didn't make him feel so much like he was going to sneeze. Her hands were soft and gentle as they smoothed over Hiwa's wings, carefully straightening and combing his feathers. There was a look of happy awe on her face, completely different from the usual revolted expressions humans turned towards ayakashi, even those that served them. It made Hiwa's face heat in embarrassment, even as he enjoyed it, leaning in slightly to the touch.

The sound of hushed voices from further inside the building broke the comfortable silence. "You should go," the lady said, sounding vaguely disappointed. "If anyone gives you any trouble for disappearing like that, just tell them you were with Lady Ginshu, all right?" The smile she flashed Hiwa as she ushered him out was bright and mischievous.

As the screen closed and Hiwa found himself once more out in the cold, he stared dumbly at the place where the fallen bucket still lay.

He could still feel Ginshu's hands on his wings.

[FIC] Genjuu no Seiza/Mononoke

2008-05-04T02:02:23Z

Title: Panacea
Fandom: Genjuu no Seiza/Mononoke
Pairing: N/A
Rating: PG
Word Count: 759 words
Notes: Spoilers as to the identity of Fuuto's predecessor.

Summary: The Holy King receives a visitor.

There were voices outside.

Atisha's head seemed impossibly heavy as she lifted it from the arm of the throne. For a long moment, her vision swam before her eyes finally managed to focus on the familiar shadowed murals and carvings of the walls. How long had it been since she had last looked at things with her physical eyes rather than the calm mental vision of meditation? Too long, perhaps, but there was no helping that now.

The voices continued.

"Naga," she whispered, her voice a faint croak through dry lips. She frowned and cleared her throat. "Naga," she tried again, with slightly more success, and was rewarded with the creak of the doors.

"Your Holiness?" Naga asked. Backlit by the burning sun of the desert outside, he was a dark and indistinct figure, his expression impossible to read. But his tone had an edge of concern to it.

Atisha managed what she hoped was a passable smile. "What's going on out there, Naga?"

"There... is a visitor, Your Holiness."

A visitor. A rare thing indeed, in these days of maps and motorized transportation. Atisha slowly and laboriously pulled herself up into a sitting position. She was horrified to find that such a small effort left her nearly breathless and leaning against the back of the throne for support. "Well, let them in, then."

Naga hesitated. "Your Holiness--"

"All travelers are welcome in Dhalashar, Naga," she reminded him gently, but firmly.

"... as you wish," Naga said at last, bowing low.

His silhouette vanished, only to return a moment later with another figure in tow. Naga bowed a second time, then closed the door, leaving Atisha within the darkness with her guest.

The visitor was dressed strangely: brightly-patterned robes and painted markings stood out starkly against pale skin. He carried with him a large box, which he set to the side before kneeling in front of her throne and bowing low to the ground.

"You are a long way from home indeed," Atisha said softly. She drew back her veil from her face, her arms weak and stiff.

"All travelers... lose their way sometimes," the visitor murmured, his painted lips curving into a sharp smile. "And so... they find their way to Dhalashar."

Atisha acknowledged his statement with a slight inclination of her head. "And yet, it is not common for a foreign god to arrive here unintentionally."

"A god?" The visitor laughed. "My lady, I am... but an ordinary medicine seller."

"I'm afraid I have no use for medicine." Atisha muffled a laugh that quickly turned into a wracking cough into her veil. At the visitor's questioning look, she gave a wry smile, continuing, "There is no cure for my illness."

A long-nailed hand strayed into a drawer of the box at the visitor's side. "I sell... many medicines, my lady. Who knows...?" An incense burner, a jade pot, a bundle of spiky-stemed herbs, and a tiny crystal vial were all withdrawn from the drawer and placed in front of his knees in turn. "A sickness of the heart... a memory festering as painfully as a cancer. Perhaps... it should be excised?" The last item the visitor revealed was a long-handled knife carved from a single piece of obsidian. He offered it up for her perusal.

When Atisha's fingers touched the blade, images flashed through her head one after another. A savage woman dressed in furs, chanting as she drew the knife over a feverish man's skin, leaving a wide swath of crimson in its wake. A white-robed priest slitting a goat's throat as it lay twitching on an altar. A man murdering his wife. After each scene, there was a profound sense of well-being, the knife slicing ruthlessly through the troubles of those involved.

Not once did she see the familiar sight of Yahati's too-pale face, smiling even as life left him.

"No," she said quietly, handing the knife back to the visitor. "No, I'm sorry. I won't."

"Then... you will die." There was no emotion in the visitor's voice, simply a flat statement of fact.

She let out a shaky breath. Her limbs suddenly felt light, as though everything that had been weighing them down had suddenly vanished. "Yes. I think that's probably true."

"Ahhh," the visitor said. He placed his medicines back into his box, and bowed low once again. There was no sound of footsteps as he left, only the brief, blinding light of the world outside the throne room when he opened the door.

Atisha looked up at the constellations above her head, and smiled.

[FIC] Various

2008-05-04T01:51:32Z

Cleaning up my desktop, I found 1x IRC drabble and 1x unfinished fic. They're both going up here.

Title: N/A
Fandom: Reikan Shouhou Kabushikigaisha
Pairing: intended to be Fehmut (cat)/Fehmut (Pharaoh), but it didn't really get that far.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 216 words

His body was burning.

The sand swirled, mixing with red-hot embers, into a deadly whirlwind of smoke and heat. Through the crackling of the flames and the howling of the wind, he could just barely hear Fehmut's voice crying out in pain. It was followed by a choking cough of a reassurance that could only belong to Tokiwa. The heat was unbearable, but still the glass did not break.

No, he thought desperately, that's not how it went. The hourglass had shattered. But not a single crack appeared in its smooth, crystal surface.The flames spired higher and higher to the sound of Fehmut and Tokiwa's dying screams. He was still trapped, and his curse would continue--

"Pharaoh." The soft voice interrupted his growing panic and despair. Soft hands reached past his shoulders and covered his eyes from behind. "My Pharaoh, it is only a dream."

His vision obscured, the unbearable heat of the fire slowly began to die away. When he was left with nothing but cool darkness, the hands withdrew. Turning slowly, he found himself staring into a pair of wide, golden eyes, set into a face identical to his own. "Fehmut...?" he asked slowly.

By way of answer, the other boy smiled softly and pressed himself to the Pharaoh's chest.

---

Title: Growth Spurt
Fandom: Amatsuki
Pairing: Ginshu/Hiwa
Rating: PG
Word Count: 207 words
Notes: Heian AU.

Hiwa was going through a growth spurt, and he hated it. Byakuroku kept having to let down the hems of his pants, but soon that wasn't going to be enough. Everything felt awkward. Especially his wings.

It seemed like he was constantly bumping into things with them-- rattling screens, knocking things from tables, smacking into people. A particularly bloody-minded servant had suggested just chopping them off, but quickly withdrawn the idea when Byakuroku pulled his lips back from his fangs and hissed.

He hadn't told Ginshu about that incident, partially because he didn't want to upset her, and partially because Ginshu had been extremely patient with the problem of his wings. She liked them.

"I wonder if you could fly, now?" Ginshu mused as he ran his hands over Hiwa's back, right where the skin turned to feathers.

Hiwa bit back a small moan of contentment. "I don't know," he muttered. "Even if I could, it's not like anyone would let me."

Sighing softly, Ginshu slid his arms around Hiwa's waist and rested her chin on his shoulder. "I'd like to see it," he said wistfully.

"Moron," was all Hiwa could say in response to that, leaning his head against Ginshu's.

[FIC] Psychic Business Corporation

2008-03-26T19:14:42Z

Two drabbles written on IRC. THEY'RE PRETTY SIMILAR which proves that I forget what I've written already the moment I write it.

Title: Like Herding Cats
Fandom: Reikan Shouhou Kabushikigaisha
Pairing: Fehmut/Tokiwa
Rating: R
Word Count: 298 words

Tokiwa woke to a warm weight on his chest that wasn't at all furry. He knew before he opened his eyes what he'd find-- Fehmut straddling his hips, golden eyes gone reflective in the darkness of the night. "Fehmut, what are you doi--" he began, but was silenced when the boy pressed the heel of his hand to his mouth.

"Do not question us," Fehmut said softly, the steel in his voice contrasting the nervous set of his shoulders. The red glow of the digital clock at the side of Tokiwa's bed cast his tan features in an eerie light as he leaned down over the older man. The metal and glass beads of his necklace clinked together musically with each movement.

When he moved his hand and replaced it with soft, dry lips, it flashed through Tokiwa's mind to push him away. After all, he was only a child (a several thousand year old child, part of him whispered traitorously), and a male one at that.

But somehow his hands came to rest at Fehmut's hips and stayed there, pressed against smooth skin and gauzy linen. The embroidered skirt around Fehmut's waist concealed little, and as he shifted positions, more of the slim length of his thigh came into view.

Somewhere along the line, Tokiwa realized, he had stopped protesting the kiss. It was hard to, with Fehmut all but squirming on his lap, making little half-gasped mewling sounds into the awkward motions of the kiss and clutching at Tokiwa's shoulders like his life depended on it.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Maybe it was true that what the Pharaoh wanted the Pharaoh got. Or maybe it was something entirely unrelated to either of those reasons, but all the same, Tokiwa found himself kissing back.

---

Title: Miw
Fandom: Reikan Shouhou Kabushikigaisha
Pairing: Fehmut/Tokiwa
Rating: R
Word Count: 195 words

Tokiwa had sort of been expecting this moment for a long time, somewhere vague in the back of his mind where he kept the thoughts he didn't really want to consider too closely. But even that distant anticipation didn't really... help.

"Fehmut," he said slowly, staring up at the naked boy straddling him, "it's not that I'm not, well, flattered, I guess, but... you're. Er. Fourteen."

Fehmut raised an eyebrow but didn't otherwise budge. "Yes," he agreed. "And?"

"Well... I'm really. Not. So..." Tokiwa stumbled over the words, trying to find some way to make Fehmut understand how this wasn't a good idea.

"We are the Pharaoh," Fehmut murmured, leaning down to rub his cheek against Tokiwa's in an affectionate gesture. His breath ghosted over the older man's jaw as he spoke. "And you are ours."

Tokiwa's mouth suddenly seemed to have gone entirely dry, and his body was reacting in ways he really, really wished it wasn't. "Fehmut--" He found himself staring into golden eyes gone reflective in the darkness.

When Fehmut kissed him, his thighs tensing to rub against Tokiwa's still clothed hips, Tokiwa found himself unable to protest any longer.

[FIC] Earl Cain/Godchild

2008-03-26T19:13:36Z

Title: The Actor's Craft
Fandom: Earl Cain/Godchild
Pairing: implied Riff/Cain
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 606 words
Notes: I apologize profusely to inarticulate for not only taking so long to write this, but for the fact that it's so very short and devoid of porn. I failed a little here, yeah.

The street was cold and dim, the night's fog casting a damp chill over the area that was difficult to escape. Even wearing a thick coat and scarf, Riff found himself not entirely unaffected. He could only imagine how freezing the thinly-dressed prostitutes hanging around the corners must have felt. With dresses hanging off their shoulders and fabric rubbed thin from long use, they huddled in groups. Thin hands clutched at patched shawls, though most seemed hesitant to pull the garment too closely around themselves for fear of losing potential customers by concealing their bodies. Just looking at them was enough to make one shiver, Riff thought, as he briefly brought his gloved hands out of his pockets to warm them with his breath.

"I've got a better way to warm you up, sir, if you're willing," a low voice murmured from somewhere at Riff's side.

Riff turned to find a slim boy-prostitute sizing him up, a faint smile on his face-- which, as far as Riff could tell in the darkness, was pretty enough, although smudged with soot. "Ah, my apologies, but I'm waiting for someone," he told the boy.

The boy's smile turned amused with a twist of his lips. He stepped forward until he was a hair's breadth from Riff, resting oddly elegant hands on the man's chest. "Are you sure I'm not what you're waiting for?" The accent was strange, but the voice oddly familiar, and a sudden glimpse of the boy's eyes in the flickering streetlight suddenly revealed the reason. Seeing recognition flash across Riff's face, the boy gave an amused chuckle. He pressed a finger to Riff's lips to forestall any questions. "I told you to wait for me here, did I not? To investigate Lord Hallendale's activities, I'm afraid a bit of play-acting will be required. I thought this best, considering his preferences."

"My lord--" Riff began, his mouth moving against the frigid finger pressed to it. A raised eyebrow silenced that particular statement, however, and Riff sighed. "Must you?" he asked instead. Cain's body was too slim under the ratty clothes he was wearing to effectively withstand the cold weather, and Riff could feel his entire frame shivering as he pressed himself to his chest. Automatically, Riff found himself slipping an arm around his master's waist to pull him closer.

"It's already decided," Cain said firmly. "I will go see what I can discover from our dear lord. Your role shall be to extract me from the situation if it gets out of hand." He pulled away with a smirk, spreading his arms in display. "I do seem the type to be in demand by a jealous patron, don't you think? You'll have to make it convincing, though. Be possessive." He pressed close for a moment longer, his breath hot against Riff's neck. "I'll even forgive you a bit of... manhandling, shall we say."

Taking a sharp breath, Riff nodded his assent. He wasn't entirely sure his voice wouldn't betray him, with Cain so near that he fancied he could hear the young man's heartbeat. Cain flashed him another dangerous smile before disappearing into the darkness. For what seemed like an eternity, but in reality must have been less than a minute, Riff lost sight of him. Then he spotted him once more at the next corner over, talking to a familiar spindly silhouette-- Lord Hallendale.

Riff tried to ignore the surge of anger tempered with a very real jealousy he was unwilling to admit to when the man stroked Cain's cheek. It seemed, perhaps, that acting his given part would be easier than he thought.

[FIC] Genjuu no Seiza

2008-03-22T00:44:27Z

Title: Ten Good Reasons Not To Become The Holy King of Dhalashar (by Kamishina Fuuto)
Fandom: Genjuu no Seiza
Pairing: N/A (... blink and you'll miss it Fuuto/Mayu and Fuuto/Atisha?!)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1129 words

1. Vegetarian food. ENOUGH SAID.

"WOOHOO! Chinese takeout night, Chinese takeout night!" Fuuto enthused, cheerfully sauntering into the Ichijou Manor. Hanuman and Genro followed dutifully after him, each lugging several plastic bags full of styrofoam takeout containers. Hanuman's bag, which he carried on his head, was almost as big as the monkey himself. Even Garuda was flying slightly haphazardly, a smaller bag full of fortune cookies clutched in his talons.

Professor Ichijou smiled gratefully. "Ah, Fuuto-kun, thanks for picking it up for me. You can set it down over here, everyone," he said, gesturing at a slightly rickety-looking table.

"Let's see..." Fuuto muttered, picking through the takeout containers and squinting at the near-illegible writing on their greasy surfaces. "Uh... Cashew Chicken for the Professor, potstickers for Hanuman... Mayu, I think this one's yours. Oh, here's mine!"

Mayu looked up from her serious attempt to split her disposable chopsticks directly down the middle. "Fuuto, what did you order?"

A wide grin split Fuuto's features. "Chicken lomein with extra chicken! My favorite."

Genro gave a snicker of laugher at Garuda's horrified look, but Fuuto remained oblivious.

2. No cable TV. Would have to TiVo all my favorite shows and get someone to email them to me-- wait. Actually.

3. No electricity, either. TiVo plan would be a failure. (Note: ask Garuda if being Holy King means I can get them to hook up electricity in the palace)

Fuuto stared at the television set in disbelief. "Wait, what? When did the Misaki get brainwashed into joining the villains?"

"Ooh! Ooh! I know!" Hanuman cried, waving his arm like an enthusiastic schoolchild. "It was in last week's episode! She got hypnotized, and--"

"AARGH! THAT DAMN BODYSWITCH!" Fuuto grabbed into a headlock, tugging at the monkey's ears. "Why didn't you record it for me? And what the hell kind of a country doesn't even have TVs, huh?!"

Hanuman's lower lip trembled. "I don't know how to use a VCR! And it's your country, your holiness!"

"SHUT UP!"

"Eeeeeek!"

4. Sand in my underwear. I think. ~~Atisha didn't wear underwear, so~~ I mean, it happens at the beach, so it'd probably be worse in the desert, right?

5. NO SHOWERS. This isn't okay.

"'Though its visitors often speak only of the lush and beautiful gardens surrounding the palace, some writings also imply that Dhalashar should be especially known for the fierceness of its winter sandstorms!'" Fuuto finished with a yell, slamming the book shut to punctuate his point.

"Well," Garuda admitted, "I suppose there is some truth to that. But that doesn't mean-- ah, your holiness, come back!"

6. ~~What would happen to Atisha if I was king instea~~ General complications with, uh, other claims to the throne.

Fuuto wasn't really sure if they were dreams or something else, but sometimes when he was asleep, or just totally zoning out during class, he thought he could touch the edges of Atisha's mind with his own. It was entirely unlike his own, full of a calm sort of melancholy that Fuuto found oddly appealing. He never said anything to Atisha in these moments-- to be honest, he wasn't sure he could-- but he was pretty certain that Atisha knew he was there. After all, it wasn't always Fuuto who sought their connection out.

When he felt the brush of soft, cool and ghostly fingers against the back of his neck, Fuuto didn't even look up from his assignment. He just smiled.

7. Having to leave Mayu and everyone at home behind.

"Purple lilac," Mayu intoned dully, "Syringa vulgaris. In the language of flowers, they symbolize the first emotion of love, and--"

"Whoa, whoa, I don't know about that," Fuuto cut in, waving a hand nervously. "Look, Mom just got some from a neighbor, but there's too much to keep in the house, so I thought... I dunno, maybe you'd like them, or something."

Mayu stared at him. "I have a garden," she said, cocking her head to the side as though it would help her better understand Fuuto's motivations.

"Yeah, but the garden doesn't... oh, nevermind." Fuuto sighed and set the little bundle of flowers onto Mayu's lap. His face burned with embarrassment. "Just take them, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed. Mayu's fingers played over the wheels of her chair for a moment before she took the flowers in hand. "Fuuto..." she said softly. "Thank you."

It wasn't quite a smile, but it brought one to Fuuto's face all the same.

8. I bet what Sohki does to people is legal there. (Note: invest in ~~rape whistle~~ pepper spray?!)

Sohki's hands were way too knowing when they slipped inside Fuuto's school uniform jacket, skimming over his chest and down to his stomach with a practiced sort of grace. The sensation was enough to force a gasp from Fuuto's lips before he could bite it back. But when one of Sohki's well-manicurred hands strayed down to the front of his pants, rubbing over his crotch, Fuuto yelped and shoved him away.

"You perverted kirin!" he hissed, his face going bright red.

"Oh, darling, you're such a flatterer," Sohki purred. He backed away with a soft chuckle that made the hairs on the back of Fuuto's neck stand up.

9. What's with those filmy robes and jewelry, anyway?

"Here," Atisha said. He reached up and carefully unhooked one of his earrings before offering it to Fuuto in his outstretched hand. "Take this."

All Fuuto could do was stare at it for a long moment. They were large, gold, and studded with some sort of jewel that was no doubt amazingly precious. "Uh... are you sure? I mean-- it's not that I have a bad track record for earrings," which he did, "or that I don't trust that you can give it to me... astrally or whatever," because he'd seen weirder things than that, "but... isn't that really expensive?"

The smile Atisha gave him was slow and a little uncertain, like he wasn't used to the expression. "I have no use for worldly things," he said simply.

10. Can't speak the language. May lead to international scandal.

"Your holiness..." Garuda said with an embarrassed fluttering of feathers, "are you aware that you just... er... propositioned me? WIth, ah, a mackerel?"

Five minutes, one tantrum, and a concerned phone call from the neighbors later, Fuuto's language guide book was languishing in the trash and Fuuto himself had buried his face in his pillow.

Garuda sighed.

[FIC] Pandora Hearts

2008-03-21T23:23:45Z

Title: What is it but a dream?
Fandom: Pandora Hearts
Pairing: Jack/Oz
Rating: R
Word Count: 568 words
Notes: For timmesque, as she requested it in IRC.

i. the queen's croquet ground

Oz dreamed of gardens in spring bloom, of gloved hands on his shoulders and a tall figure behind him; as they leaned down to whisper something to him, warm lips brushed over his ear in a mockery of a gentle kiss.

ii. through the looking-glass

"Something on your mind?" Jack asked.

Oz hesitated in mid-step, turning on his heel to face the full-length mirror. Jack smiled down at him from inside the gilded frame. His long fingers traced the inside of the mirror's surface distractedly, scratching at a bit of silvering around the edges that showed the mirror's age.

"Only, you've been pacing for the last ten minutes," the man continued.

"You've been watching?" Oz asked. He supposed he should feel a little strange about talking to the man, all things considered, but he'd passed the point where things like holding conversations with his several-times great-grandfather by way of a mirror seemed strange.

Jack laughed, the sound echoing slightly oddly in Oz's mind. "I'm always watching, Oz. You should know that by now."

Instead of answering, Oz pressed his palm flat to the surface of the mirror. It didn't surprise him when, after a moment, his hand sank through the cool metal like it was thick syrup to rest against the sturdy warmth of Jack's chest instead. "Huh," he said.

One of Jack's gloved hands came up to rest over Oz's. "Most people would ask how real I was after something like that," Jack said cheerfully, though his green eyes-- familiar to Oz because he saw them every day in the mirror, and not just when Jack was there-- were watchful.

Oz let one of what Break called his "uncanny smiles" stretch his features as he leaned in to sink the rest of his body through the mirror, the reflective surface rippling and parting around him as he found himself falling into Jack's arms. "But then I'd have to ask how real I am," he murmured.

"Ah," Jack said, and wrapped his arms around Oz the way he always did when something went wrong, gentle and strong. Because it was true-- he was always watching and always there. If the two-bright look in Oz's eyes bothered him, he gave no sign of it.

iii. down the rabbit hole

A soft gasp escaped Oz's lips as Jack's mouth skimmed over his bare hip, tangling his hands in the man's quickly-unravelling braid and tugging a bit harder than necessary. That got him a soft chuckle in response, Jack's breath ghosting over the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, and a quick warning squeeze of one-still gloved hand from where it rested on his leg.

Oz didn't bite back his cry of pleasure when Jack's mouth closed over his cock, hot and wet and suspiciously skilled. Though eyes he could hardly keep from squeezing shut, he watched as Jack's cheeks hollowed and his tongue skimmed over sensitive flesh, as a slow and pleased smile spread over a face all too similar to his own.

iv. which dreamed it?

When Oz woke, it was to tangled and sticky sheets and the first rays of sun peeking through his curtains. The pocket watch was hot against his hand where he clutched it.

On an impulse he couldn't quite explain, he raised it to his lips and kissed it.

[FIC] Genjuu no Seiza/Psychic Business Corporation

2008-03-20T03:28:37Z

Title: The One Where Fuuto Has A Substitute Science Teacher
Fandom: Genjuu no Seiza/Psychic Business Corporation
Pairing: N/A
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2345 words
Notes: I've only read up to volume 2 of RSKG (WHY ISN'T THERE MORE ONLINE), and it probably shows, but oh well. Also, the scanlations I've read have Fehmut using the royal "we," and though I don't know if that's accurate to the original Japanese, it's adorable and so I'm using it too.

Ito-sensei was late. This simple fact was big news at school, as Ito-sensei was always on time. Half an hour early, even. She was a teacher of the old form, the kind who tolerated absolutely no nonsense in her classroom and gave every indication of mourning the loss of corporal punishment. By the time Fuuto rushed through the door to classroom, Ito-sensei was officially three minutes late and there were murmurs about signs of the apocalypse amongst the students.

Fuuto was just glad she wasn't there to yell at him for being late again. Especially since it wasn't his fault he'd been waylaid on his way to school by the ghost of a car-crash victim. And he'd nearly tripped over a cat trying to get through the school gates. It wasn't even nine o'clock, and it already really hadn't been his day. And a pissed-off Ito-sensei would have been just what he'd needed to round it off. He had the sinking suspicion that Ito-sensei had been holding a grudge against him ever since Hanuman had snuck into class and knocked over several expensive and surprisingly fragile pieces of lab equipment. Apparently she hadn't believe Fuuto's insistent reassurances that it was only a coincidence that the monkey had chosen his seat to hide under.

But as the minutes crept by, even Fuuto found himself beginning to worry. Knowing his luck, the old bat had probably expired the night before while grading his lab report, and he was about to find himself with yet another ghost on his tail. He was almost relieved when the door to the classroom slid open.

It wasn't Ito-sensei's gnarled hand on the door frame, though. A young man, his arms full of assorted files and folders, nearly tripped on his way through the door. "Ah, sorry, sorry! I'm really sorry. I know I'm late." He dropped the paperwork onto Ito-sensei's usually impeccably neat desk. "As you've probably guessed, Ito-sensei won't be here today. Or the rest of the week, as I understand it. Something about a family emergency."

A murmur went through the class. Most couldn't seem to decide what to be more surprised about-- that Ito-sensei had a family, or that she'd actually go so far as to miss school for their sake.

"In any case," the young man continued, "my name is Tokiwa, and I'll be your substitute science teacher for the next week. I hope you'll all treat me well." His hair was messy. The suit he was wearing was nice enough, but the tie was hopelessly crooked. On anyone else, it would have looked ridiculous enough to prompt snickering and snide comments from the class at large. But on him, it somehow looked charming.

Tokiwa smiled, prompting the entire female student body to sigh as one.

With a soft groan, Fuuto let his head thunk against his desk. He found himself missing Ito-sensei already.

---

Save for the girls in Fuuto's class taking an unheard of interest in balancing chemical formulas, the rest of the school day passed uneventfully. All the same, Fuuto found himself entirely too ready to leave. Something about the unassuming grin of that substitute teacher made his hackles rise. He was just too nice.

"And he's managed to singlehandedly seduce every girl in the class just by talking about molecules!" Fuuto snarled, jamming his hands into the pockets of his school uniform pants. The people standing next to him at the corner inched slowly away.

Garuda shifted uncomfortably on Fuuto's shoulder. "Your Holiness..." he began, ruffling his feathers.

Fuuto ignored him. "I bet he's an incubus or something. I just bet he is."

"You felt a malevolent aura about him, Holiness?"

The light changed and the "walk" sign began to flash above the crosswalk. "Well... not exactly," Fuuto admitted as he started across the street. "It's more like he was almost too normal to--"

With a screech of tires, a car careened around the corner, heading straight at Fuuto and the other pedestrians on the crosswalk. The driver laid on the horn, a look of horror twisting his features. It looked like he was hammering the breaks to no avail.

"--oh, for the love of--" With a growl, Fuuto raised a hand, ignoring the screams of the panicked and scattering crowd around him. A moment later the car collided with an invisible wall. He had enough time to meet the eyes of the shocked driver before the airbag obscured his view.

"Your Holiness!" Garuda screeched, digging his talons into Fuuto's shoulder. "Your powers are still developing! You shouldn't take risks like that! What if it hadn't--"

Fuuto grabbed Garuda by the scruff of his feathery neck. "You don't have to yell in my ear like that! Jeez, if it hadn't worked, I would've moved or something. Anyway, I had a pretty good idea that it was gonna. Shut up for a second, okay? I gotta concentrate."

The feathered guardian fluffed his feathers in irritation, shut his beak with a clack. Fuuto stalked through the still-stunned spectators to the other side of the street. Shoving his way around the corner, he made his way over to a small vase of wilted flowers sitting by a lamp post.

He tapped it with the edge of his foot.

"Oi, I know you're there, so stop hiding. What the hell was up with that stunt, anyway?"

Silence.

Fuuto sighed and crouched down next to the vase. "Okay, listen... what was your name? Mari? Listen up, Mari-chan. I know you're confused an lonely. You're probably even a little angry. I mean, I know I would be in your situation. But you're not going to solve anything by causing more accidents like yours."

As he spoke, the image of a young woman in a floral-print sundress slowly faded into view. She was lovely, her beauty unmarred by the gaping, bloody wound on the left side of her head. Through the blood staining her face, her expression was sad and a bit petulant.

"I've got a pretty good way to fix the problem of your loneliness, you know. But you're gonna have to trust me." Fuuto straightened up and held out his hand. After a moment's hesitation, the ghost placed one slim hand in his. "All right. You've gotta move on, Mari-chan. There's another life waiting for you on the other side of the wheel. Forget your anger and your confusion and let the light take you in. It'll be okay."

As the ghost began to disappear, Fuuto smiled softly. "It'll be okay," he repeated again, quietly. "Bye, Mari-chan."

Garuda coughed after a moment of silence. "Good work, Your Holiness," he said, his voice proud.

"Yeah, yeah," Fuuto grumbled, adjusting his schoolbag. "That's twice she interrupted my commute, you know." But there was no real venom in his voice.

He didn't notice the small black cat perched on the top of a nearby trashcan, watching him with unblinking golden eyes.

---

"Fehmut," Tokiwa began with a sigh, "I still don't see what the problem is." He was sitting on the floor of his cramped apartment, papers spread out before him on the low table.

The Egyptian boy fixed him with a withering glare. "The problem is that he's doing your job. For free."

Tokiwa fiddled with the pen he was supposed to be using to write his lesson plan. The lesson plan that Fehmut was currently sitting on. Sometimes Tokiwa thought that the cat influenced the Pharaoh more than the latter would like to admit. "I'll remind you that you're the one who keeps picking up pro bono jobs for me," he said.

If Fehmut had a tail in his current form, he would have been lashing it. As it was, he crossed his arms in irritation. "It's fine when you do it for free sometimes," he said slowly, as though he were speaking to a particularly slow child, "but you usually charge. If people get used to having spirits exorcised for free, they will never pay us!"

"Since when are you so worried about money?"

To his surprise, a slow blush crept over Fehmut's tanned features.

"Fehmut?" Tokiwa asked, raising an eyebrow.

Fehmut ducked his head in embarrassment. "... since you bought that expensive cat food for us with the bonus off the paycheck for your last job," he muttered. "We quite liked it."

Even Fehmut's transformation a moment later and the resulting swipe paw over his face couldn't stop Tokiwa's hysterical laughter. "Blasphemer!" the cat hissed, retreating to the other end of the table to wash his tail sulkily.

"Okay," Tokiwa finally managed to choke out through his giggles. He prodded his face delicately where Fehmut's claws
had scraped his skin. "I'll see about talking to him. If it's so that the great Pharaoh can get his choice of gourmet moist cat food, I'm sure he'll agree to work something out."

"We are placated for now," Fehmut sniffed, completely missing the teasing note to Tokiwa's voice. "Now fetch me my dinner."

"Yes, your majesty."

---

Tokiwa-sensei was eyeing him.

Frankly, for Fuuto, that was too much. The disinterest in his fawning fangirls were one thing. As was the too-nice aura. Even the haughty-looking foreign boy in too-large clothes who sometimes met Tokiwa-sensei at the gates was something Fuuto hadn't been prepared to pass judgement on. But the staring was the last straw.

"I think I should just introduce him to Sohki and call it a day," Fuuto mumbled, leaning against the railing at the roof of the school. "Or wait. Maybe that'd be a really bad idea."

Hanuman, who'd delivered his lunch, dutifully patted Fuuto's arm in reassurance. "You're really popular, aren't you, your holiness," he said.

"But what if I don't want to be?" Fuuto groaned "I'm not even wearing that damn earring anymore. It's not fair!"

Wisely, Hanuman refrained from any comment on the topic of the earring. Even referencing that particular incident had been known to set Fuuto off into one of his more spectacular tantrums. Sohki loved it.

With a sigh, Fuuto slid down to sit at the base of the railing instead, and picked up his yakisoba bread. "Oh yeah," he said between mouthfuls, "there's something I wanted to ask. None of the guardians are cats, right?"

"Um... cats?" Hanuman asked, blinking. "Like, a housecat? I don't..."

"Yeah. Somehow I didn't think so. I was just kinda hoping it was an assassin, because at least I'm used to that."

Hanuman cocked his head to the side in confusion. "Your holiness?"

Wordlessly, Fuuto pointed to the door to the roof. A small black cat jumped in surprise at being spotted, then attempted to nonchalantly lick its haunches as though it didn't care.

"It's got earrings," Fuuto said by way of explanation. "No normal cat has earrings."

"Oh dear," Hanuman said.

The cat disappeared down the stairs.

---

"Kamishina-kun, can I speak with you a moment?"

Fuuto had known it was coming, but he still inwardly flinched when Tokiwa-sensei's question came after class. Mentally, he ran through any number of practiced Sohki-avoidance techniques and came up empty. "Um... sure," was all he could say. "Just, you know, my mom's expecting me home to help with dinner, so..."

Tokiwa-sensei laughed. "Oh, it shouldn't take that long."

I'll bet, Fuuto thought, rather uncharitably. "Okay. Sure. What's up?"

After a brief glimpse out the door to make sure no one was watching-- which really just served to further contribute to Fuuto's unease-- Tokiwa-sensei flashed him a somewhat embarrassed smile. Fuuto noticed detachedly that he had a bandaid on his nose. "Ah, this is-- well, it's not something I really have a problem with, but circumstances being what they are, you see..." He trailed off, evidently unsure of how to continue.

Fuuto waited for him to go on.

"It's about your exorcisms," Tokiwa-sensei finally burst out.

"Oh, well, if that's all, then--" Fuuto stopped and mentally rewound. "Wait. What?"

"They're a little bad for business," Tokiwa-sensei was saying, as though he hadn't heard Fuuto. "And--"

But whatever else he was going to say was lost as the door to the classroom burst open. "Your holiness!" Garuda shouted. "We're here to save you!" A moment later, Genro rounded the corner, growling, with Hanuman hanging onto his back for dear life.

Fuuto buried his face in his hands to hide the embarrassed flush. "... um, guys, I think it's--"

"He doesn't look that dangerous," Genro said dubiously at the same time. "I mean, he's kind of scrawny, for one."

"Are those... shikigami?" Tokiwa-sensei burst out.

In the resulting confusion of unanswered questions being shouted every way, a new voice rang out. "There will be quiet or we shall be most displeased!"

Everyone turned towards the voice's source. The small black cat from the roof jumped down from the windowsill and stalked over to the motley group. In the blink of an eye, where the cat had been standing was a young, middle eastern-looking boy with a scowl on his face. "No one will threaten the source of our food while we have any say in it," he said haughtily.

Genro scowled. "Listen, kid, I dunno who you think you are, but--"

"How dare you speak to us in such a manner! Who do you think you are?!"

"We're the guardians of the Holy King of Dhalashar!" Hanuman piped up in a manner that he clearly thought was helpful.

Tokiwa-sensei looked as though he'd swallowed a bug. "Dhalashar?" he asked. "The Holy King?"

Without raising his head, Fuuto held up a hand and waved weakly.

The foreign boy scowled. "So what? We are more than a king. We are a god."

"... the problem is, Fehmut, I think he is too," Tokiwa-sensei murmured, elbowing the boy.

"Your holiness?" Garuda asked, landing on Fuuto's shoulder. "Are you all right?"

Fuuto just groaned.

[FIC] Tales of the Abyss

2008-03-09T19:54:58Z

Title: N/A
Fandom: Tales of the Abyss
Pairing: N/A (young Luke and Guy)
Rating: G
Word Count: 227 words

He doesn't even realize he's doing it at first. He's more focused on other things, like Luke's hands fisting in his shirt and the fact that the boy just won't stop crying. The front of his shirt is wet with tears and snot, because Luke won't let go or move his head. They've been standing like this for five, maybe ten minutes by now--enough time for Guy to have run through all of his usual reassurances and distraction techniques. It's gotten to the point where more than anything, he just wants to pry Luke off and leave. Which is why he's surprised to find, instead of telling the boy to just get over it already, he's humming something. A half-forgotten lullaby, he realizes, something that Van used to sing to him when he was upset. It seems to get Luke's attention. Green eyes, still full of tears, peer up at him. So Guy gives into the memory and sort of haltingly mumbles the words to the song, one hand stroking Luke's unruly mop of hair. He's never been that good at singing, and his voice is scratchy from trying to be heard over the sobs, but it looks like Luke likes it.

Even when he stops crying, Luke doesn't let go, though, and once more Guy is at a loss for what to do.

---

Title: N/A
Fandom: Tales of the Abyss
Pairing: Van/Guy
Rating: PG
Word Count: 390 words

"Van, don't be stupid," Guy laughed, swatting away Van's hand. "I'm not wearing that."

Van quirked an eyebrow. "Why not?" he asked. His eyes flicked down to the brightly-colored flower in his hand. It spun slowly as he rubbed the stem between his fingers. "I picked it just for you."

Guy snorted and turned around to face the window. "It's a flower."

"It's your namesake."

"Still. It's a flower, and there's no way that-- hey!" He cut off with a yelp as Van suddenly grabbed him around the waist from behind. "Cut it out! Van!" Guy squirmed in Van's grip, elbowing him in the stomach without any real success. Van was bigger and stronger, like always, and after a minute Guy sighed and stopped struggling. "Fine," he grumbled, letting his head thump back against Van's chest.

He could feel Van's laugh against his back. "If you give in that easily, you need more practice" he said, drawing Guy closer and resting his head on blond hair mussed from the struggle.

Guy grinned despite himself. "Give me my sword, and we'll see who needs more practice."

"Later, perhaps." Broad hands turned Guy around, then slid the flower behind his ear. "There."

"I bet it looks dumb." Guy's voice was derisive, but he caught Van's hands around the wrists before he could lower them. Sword calluses caught on the smoother skin of his face as he leaned into the touch.

"It looks perfect, Master Gailardia," Van said softly, before leaning in to almost chastely brush his lips against Guy's. Guy took the kiss and deepened it, opening his mouth to let Van slide his tongue just past his lips before drawing back with a smile.

"You're an idiot," he murmured, face red.

Van bowed his head. "That may be. But I'm at your command, nonetheless."

Guy was silent.

"It will be my coming of age ceremony, soon," Van continued. "Afterwards, I intend to swear loyalty to you once more."

"You don't have to do that," Guy said, finally releasing Van's hands. "We both already know where your loyalty lies, Vandesdelca."

Something passed over Van's face--a shadow of an unreadable expression--and then was gone. "...yes, of course."

"Good." Guy leaned in for another kiss, the flower falling forgotten to the ground as Van slid a hand through his hair.

[FIC] Tales of the Abyss

2008-03-09T19:52:59Z

Title: N/A
Fandom: Tales of the Abyss
Pairing: rappigs/Guy
Rating: R!!1!
Word Count: 632 words

Guy didn't notice anything strange until the time came to remove Jade's collar. The rappigs had been particularly antsy on their walk today, and he was definitely looking forward to hanging up their leashes and leaving the rest of their care to the maids. But there was something weird about Jade's normally sleek fur--it felt like there were some sort of bumps under the rappig's collar. Frowning, Guy undid the clasp and ran his fingers over the protrusions. They didn't seem to be causing Jade any discomfort. In fact, the rappig was snuffling as happily as if he'd been skritched behind the ears.

"Huh," Guy muttered to himself. "Wonder if the collar's irritating his skin?" He prodded a bit harder.

Something pushed back.

Yelping, Guy withdrew his hand and stared down at the rappig. The bumps were... moving. No, they were growing. Little stalks emerged from the furry flesh, growing into long, flexible-- well, there was only one word for it. Tentacles.

Jade blinked blanky, the tentacles rising above his shoulders swaying. One extended further to reach towards Guy and poked at his chest curiously. Speechless, and too shocked to move, all Guy could do was sit there and stare as the other tentacles followed suit. It wasn't until the first tentacle slipped down the front of his shirt that the reality of the situation sunk in.

"Um," he said. "Are you supposed to-- does Peony know--"

Pop pop pop went the buttons of his shirt as the tentacle flexed and tore through the fabric.

Guy swore. It had been a pretty nice shirt. It was also the last straw. He started to stand up, regarding the rappig with as much dignity as he could muster. "Okay, you know what, I'm just goin to find him and ask what the hell's going-- oof!" Something snaked around his wrists and ankles, tugging him firmly back down. His back hit the floor, hard, and only long practice kept him from cracking his head as well.

The other rappigs flanked him, each sporting their own collection of tentacles. Luke was holding his wrists, and Nephry and Saphir each had several thick tentacles wrapped around his ankles. That was when he began to panic. Rappigs weren't exactly large animals, but their new appendages were strong and no matter how much he struggled, he couldn't get anywhere.

Jade had withdrawn his tentacles from Guy's shirt. They were now undulating over him, the tips dragging over his clothes and bare skin alike. It felt utterly bizarre--the touch was too concentrated, too firm to belong to a human. It wasn't uncomfortable, per se, aside from the strangeness, but it certainly wasn't something he was exactly enjoying.

He really started to panic when the first tentacle dipped below his waistband. "Whoa, hold on," he sputtered, trying to sit up enough to get a better look at what was going on. Jade regarded him impassively, black eyes unblinking, as the tentacle popped open his fly. "Stop that! What the hell-- that's not-- don't touch that."

Which was, of course, the moment Peony chose to enter the room. "Gailardia, are you back ye-- oh my." Closing the door quietly, he sauntered over to Guy's side in a swish of silk and crouched down next to him. "Well, isn't that interesting!"

"Your Majesty," Guy began, only to be cut off as a tentacle took advantage of the opportunity to slide into his mouth. He gagged, biting down, but the rappig was undeterred.

"Play nice," Peony said, lightly whapping Guy's cheek. "I see you've found my little secret." He eyed the tentacle worming its way between Guy's legs. "I must say I'm jealous. I haven't seen them this excited in a while."

Guy whimpered.

[FIC] Tales of the Abyss

2008-03-09T19:50:59Z

Title: N/A
Fandom: Tales of the Abyss
Pairing: Peony/Jade (+rappig)
Rating: PG-13?
Word Count: 240 words

Luke blinked. His master was doing it again. He was doing strange things with his mouth to the human with glasses, the one who had the same name as Jade. Really, Luke didn't know why his master insisted on naming his humans after them, but it was sort of cute. But this meant that they were taking up the bed again, and he was hoping to have an afternoon nap.

So Luke waddled over to the bed, nosing the two of them insistently. After a moment, the human Jade looked up, glasses askew. "...for the love of--"

Luke's master raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice muffled by the other human's skin. He was licking him. Humans were so strange.

"Your Majesty, the rappigs are--ah!--watching us. If you want an audience I'd, nn, appreciate advance notice."

Settling back onto his knees, Luke's master huffed. "Are you saying you want me to stop, Jade?" Luke snuffled at his bare foot, and was rewarded with an absent-minded skritch behind the ears.

"At least get it off the bed, will you?"

"Awww, but he's so comfortable!"

Luke eyed the human Jade with a hint of smugness. His master still liked him best. Jade made a very interesting noise, shoving his glasses back onto his nose. "...hm. Well, in that case, perhaps we should save this for later."

Luke's master shrugged. "Your loss."

Luke snorted victoriously.

---

Title: N/A
Fandom: Tales of the Abyss
Pairing: Natalia/Asch
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 136 words

"Asch?" A worried expression crossed Natalia's lovely features. She stared up at him over her heaving bosom. "Is there something wrong?"

Braced above her on the bed, Asch's face slowly turned the same red as his hair. "I. Well. It's just... I've never actually done this before."

"My!" she exclaimed, cupping the line of his jaw with one delicate hand. Getting lost in the deep emerald pools of his eyes, her face tinged pink as she spoke. "Now would be when you should pluck the last petals of my maidenhood."

There was a long pause. Asch furrowed his brows. "...which means what, exactly?"

"Well, plunging into the sweet depths of my--" Natalia sighed, seeing the continued incomprehension of her lover. "Er, that is, put it in?"

"...oh."

And he did.

[FIC] Tales of the Abyss

2008-03-09T19:49:58Z

Title: N/A
Fandom: Tales of the Abyss
Pairing: N/A (Guy and Van)
Rating: G
Word Count: 193 words.
Notes: AU. Spoilers up until after the Tower of Rem.

"You're going to tell me you know a way to save him, aren't you." Guy pulls his hands away from his face, staring at them without really seeing them. They're shaking. They've been shaking ever since the Tower. It's a faint sort of trembling, like he's falling apart from the inside. Like he's disintegrating. Like he's the one who's going to die instead of Luke. He wishes he were.

Van is silent, as still as a statue at the rear wall of the inn. There might be something like sympathy on his face, or what Guy might've mistaken as sympathy in the past.

"And I'm going to believe you, even though I know it's a lie," Guy continues with a laugh, hating a how weak his voice sounds. "Because there's the possibility it isn't, and a possibility is better than nothing. Better than what he has right now."

"Gailardia..." Van's voice is low and unreadable.

Guy takes a deep breath and mentally apologizes to everyone. It's the only thing he can do at this point. "What do you want from me?"

Van holds out a hand.

Guy takes it.

[FIC] Tales of the Abyss

2008-03-09T19:48:28Z

Title: N/A
Fandom: Tales of the Abyss
Pairing: N/A
Rating: PG
Word Count: 233 words
Notes: AU.

"What are you, stupid?" Asch asks, his voice incredulous. "It's because we were trained in the same style!" He shifts his grip on his sword ever so slightly, and tenses for a second lunge. The footing isn't the best down here--slick sand on crumbling stone--but he knows he's the better swordsman, knows that if he can just catch the Replica when the others can't interfere--

A hand on his arm pulls him out of his thoughts. "Asch," Gailardia murmurs next to his ear, "now's not the time. Van will be--"

"Shut up!" Asch jerks his arm out of the other man's grip. He grits his teeth, his face briefly transformed into a mask of fury before all the anger seems to drain out of him. "...you're right." With a sigh, he sheathes his sword.

Luke takes a step forward, still armed. In an instant, Gailardia's sword is drawn. "Don't," he says simply.

"...wait a second." Luke stares. "I recognize that sword. It used to hang in the front hall--"

There's a soft gasp as Natalia's fingers slip on the string of her bow. "Guy?" she whispers. "Guy, it is you, isn't it?"

Gailardia sketches a small bow, a faintly wistful grin on his face. "Well spotted, Your Highness." He steps in front of Asch and shrugs. "But I'm afraid we really don't have time to catch up right now."

---

Title: N/A
Fandom: Tales of the Abyss
Pairing: N/A
Rating: G
Word Count: 416 words
Notes: AU.

"Asch. Asch, c'mon." Gailardia leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. One gloved hand picked idly at the peeling paint covering the wood. This definitely wasn't one of the nicer inns they'd stayed at, but considering that they weren't officially affiliated with the Oracle Knights anymore, certain sacrifices had to be made. But the innkeeper would stay tightlipped about the identities of his customers for a few extra Gald, and that was worth any amount of creaking floorboards and mice.

He figured he'd give Asch another minute. When there was still no response, he sighed. "Fine, Luke, be that way."

That at least got him a reaction. Asch's shoulders jerked. "Don't. Call. Me. That," he growled. But he continued staring at the floor the same way he had been for the past hour or so. No floor could be that interesting.

Rolling his eyes, Gailardia straightened up and crossed the room. For a moment, he just stood there in front of Asch, waiting. There was no reaction. It wasn't exactly an invitation, but it wasn't a demand to be left alone, either. So Gailardia decided to assume the former and sat down on the edge of the bed next to his master. He gently brushed away the curtain of red hair obscuring Asch's face. "Hey," he said. "Are you still mad at me?"

Asch's hands curled into fists, tightening until the leather of his gloves creaked. "Yes. I told you not to go to them."

"Natalia's worried about you." As expected, Asch finally looked up at that. Gailardia let his hand drop.

"She... is?"

Gailardia grinned faintly. "Of course she is. She still cares about you." He hesitated, choosing his next words carefully. "...he's worried about you, too."

Asch flinched. Then, slowly, he began to laugh, a note of desperation in his voice. "Of course he is," he said disgustedly. "He's so damn nice. He's so nice that he's a better me than I am."

"No, he's not." Gailardia wrapped an arm around Asch's shoulders. "Because he's not you."

"Yes he is." Asch let his head rest against Gailardia's chest, leaning in close.

Gailardia pressed his lips to the top of Asch's head. "No. I don't care if you call yourself Luke or Asch or whatever, but there's only one of you to me. So stop that, okay?"

He thought that he could feel Asch's lips curve into something like a smile against his neck.

[FIC] Tales of the Abyss

2008-03-09T19:45:48Z

Title: N/A
Fandom: Tales of the Abyss
Pairing: N/A (Asch)
Rating: G
Word Count: 121 words

He never means to do it. Or at least that's what he tells himself, because it's easier to live with that way. Intentional or not, on nights like this when the nightmares and the loneliness of existing get to be too much, he finds himself reaching out to the replica. Not enough so that he's noticed--just letting the edges of his mind overlap with Luke's until their frequencies recognize one another as the same. It's warm like that and feels right in a way he doesn't want to think about. So he just lets the feeling soak through his aching limbs until he finally drifts off to sleep.

And for a while, it's almost like he belongs somewhere.

---

Title: N/A
Fandom: Tales of the Abyss
Pairing: Tear/Luke
Rating: ...R?!
Word Count: 68 words

When they broke the kiss, Tear's hair was mussed and her skirt had ridden up high enough to expose the tops of her stocking and her garters. When she smiled at him, Luke thought that she'd never looked to beautiful. His hands were shaking when he finally managed to unfasten his pants.

Tear blushed.

"W-what?" he asked, suddenly feeling a little defensive.

Her blush deepened. "It's so cute..."

[FIC] Tales of the Abyss

2008-03-09T19:43:52Z

Title: N/A
Fandom: Tales of the Abyss
Pairing: Van/Guy
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 468 words

Guy's head hits the wall of the storage closet with a loud thunk as Van bites down on juncture between his neck and shoulder, choking back his moan into a strangled hiss. The part of his mind that isn't occupied with trying to divest Van of his shirt manages to be thankful that any marks he's going to have will be able to be covered by clothing this time. He tugs at Van's hair, the man letting himself be pulled up after a moment for another heated kiss.

They don't have much time--they never do--and desperation is beginning to show through in the way the kiss turns almost bruising in its intensity. Guy's thankful for it, though, because it muffles his cry when Van finishes unfastening his pants and gets a hand around his cock. The angle is awkward, but Van's strokes are sure and it's so much better than Guy's own nighttime fumblings. It's easy to forget where they are, forget that--

"Guy? Guy, where are you?"

His eyes snap open at the young voice somewhere outside in the hall, and he clutches at Van's shoulders. "Van," he hisses. "We have to stop. Luke--" He jerks as Van's hand doesn't slow--if anything, it speeds up--and bites his own lip hard. "Van!"

"Shhh," Van whispers, claiming Guy's mouth once more and adding a twist to his strokes that causes Guy to writhe.

He means to pull away, to tell Van that it can wait, but somehow he can't bring himself to do it. So he lets his head fall forward onto Van's shoulder instead, and just holds on as he thrusts erratically into Van's grip. It seems wrong now, hidden away like this while Luke is outside looking for him, but he can't concentrate on that and it isn't long before he's spilling over Van's hand with a soft cry.

The cleanup is brisk as always, but the silence that follows seems somehow more forced than usual. Guy can't quite meet Van's eyes, and he leaves without a word. It's a few minutes later that Guy finds Luke in his room, clutching a pillow to his chest and crying. When he sits down next to him on the bed, the boy throws the pillow to the side and grabs at Guy instead. "I head a bad dream," he sobs, burying his face in Guy's chest and soaking his shirt with tears.

Guy automatically strokes Luke's tangled red hair, a sick feeling growing in his chest. "I... I thought you were still napping," he says quietly.

Luke shakes his head. "And then I couldn't find you!"

"I'm sorry," is all Guy can say, holding Luke close. He wonders detachedly at the fact he feels so guilty. "I'm here now."

[FIC] Tales of the Abyss

2008-03-09T19:42:46Z

Title: N/A
Fandom: Tales of the Abyss
Pairing: N/A (young Luke and Guy)
Rating: G
Word Count: 471 words

Guy had approximately ten seconds from the time he entered the front door to when a small redheaded missile shot out of nowhere and grabbed him around the waist.

"Guy! Guy Guy Guy Guy! You're back!" Luke cried excitedly, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

"I was only gone for a few hours," Guy laughed, ruffling the boy's hair. "What're you so excited about?" He tried to step out of the entryway and into the hall, but only vaguely succeeded due to Luke's refusal to let go of him.

Luke fixed him with a bright smile. "Guess what!"

Guy ignored the giggles of the maids manning the doorway. "I'm bad at guessing. You know that. How about you just tell me?"

Normally this would've earned him protestations and an insistence that no, he had to guess first, but it looked like Luke was just dying to get it out. The boy grinned and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small box that he proudly presented to Guy. "It's for you!"

"...for me? Really?" Guy looked down at the proffered box, mentally going through a list of what Luke's activities had been that day in an attempt to guess what he was in for. "What is it?"

"Father's been making you do lots of stuff. And he makes you go out all the time." Luke made a face at this. It was no secret that he hated it whenever Guy left the manor, and had been known to throw spectacular temper tantrums just to keep it from happening. "I thought that if you belonged to me, then he couldn't do that anymore! So I got the maids to get you this!"

With slight trepidation, Guy took the lid off the box. A slender collar lay inside, obviously finely-made. It was the kind that nobles often bought for their more treasured pets. For a long while, all he could do was stare at it as Luke smiled sunnily up at him. "Um. Luke, I..." Guy managed, grasping for words.

The boy's face fell. "Don't you like it?"

"No, that's not it at all! It's really lovely, and I appreciate it, it's just..." He had no idea how to finish that sentence. Or explain to Luke why giving people collars wasn't usually acceptable.

"Great!" Luke cut off any further protestations by tugging on Guy's shirt. "Bend down to I can put it on you!" Automatically, Guy knelt down in front of him. Luke very carefully took the collar out of the box and fastened it around Guy's neck, throwing his arms around him in a hug when he was done. "There! See, you're mine now!"

Guy sighed, hugging Luke back. He couldn't help but smile a little at his enthusiasm. "Yeah, Luke. I'm all yours."

[FIC] Tales of the Abyss

2008-03-09T19:41:43Z

Title: N/A
Fandom: Tales of the Abyss
Pairing: ...just read it.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 58 words

Mieu flopped onto Luke's lap, blinking at him. "Master, Master! I have a question!"

Luke sighed, flicking the cheagle's forehead. "Yeah? What is it, Thing?"

"Mieuuuuuuu... why do you let Master Van touch you in weird places?"

A few minutes later, Tear had to forcefully explain to Luke that no, they could not have cheagle soup for dinner.

---

Title: N/A
Fandom: Tales of the Abyss
Pairing: N/A (Peony and Luke, implied Luke/Guy)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 193 words

"Luke," Peony called as everyone prepared to leave the throne room. "Can I speak with you for a moment? In private?"

No, Luke wanted to say, you're really sort of weird and I don't want to be alone with you. But even he knew that wasn't the sort of thing one said to emperors. "Um, sure, your majesty. What is it?"

Peony crooked his finger in Luke's direction, leading him over to the windows behind his throne. He stared out at the waterfalls for a moment before turning to face the boy. "I just wanted you to know how lonely Gailardia's been without you."

"W-what?" Luke blinked. "Guy... missed me?"

"Well, of course he did!" Peony said with a flourish, his silken sleeves fluttering. "Torn away from you like that!"

Good, a sulky part of him thought, but he pushed that down. "...huh, I thought he'd be too busy to really think about it."

"Not at all. So I think you should make sure to spend plenty of time catching up, okay?" Peony's wink did nothing to soften the razor edge in his smile.

"O-okay," Luke squeaked.

[FIC] Tales of the Abyss

2008-03-09T19:38:52Z

Title: N/A
Fandom: Tales of the Abyss
Pairing: Van/Luke
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 335 words
Notes: Set prior to Akzeriuth.

"You. You really need me?" Luke could feel his face stretched into an almost painfully wide grin at Van's words. There was a warmth in his chest, a sort of excitement bubbling up until he couldn't even think about containing it. A detached part of him noticed that his hands were shaking.

Van laughed, the rich sound echoing off the thick stone walls of the dungeon. "Of course I do, Luke. You know you're very important to me." One large, callused hand gently cupped Luke's cheek.

With an exhalation of breath Luke hadn't known he was holding, he leaned into his master's touch, his eyes fluttering shut. "O-oh." The hand trailed down the side of his face down to his chin, where it tilted his face up. With a feeling of giddiness, Luke realized what was going to come next and opened his eyes. He had to stand on his toes to wrap his arms around Van's neck and kiss him shyly--the man was so much taller than him, even now that Luke was bigger. Really, it was more awkward since he'd grown, because Van couldn't just pick him up and hold him anymore like he used to.

Van's beard scratched as he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into Luke's mouth. All the boy could do was cling as hands slid down his back to his ass. Master Van needs me, he kept repeating to himself. He needs me and he wants me and--he made a disappointed whimper as Van broke the kiss, staring up at the man with a dazed expression. "Why--"

"Shhh," Van breathed, pressing a kiss to Luke's hair. "Someone will find us down here. We'll have to wait for later."

"But--"

Van silenced him with another kiss, smiling at him fondly. "We'll have all the time in the world in Daath, Luke."

"...right." Following Van up the stairs to the rest of the castle, Luke resolved to content himself with dreams of the future.