insincere | A-Z Drabble Meme

I is for "Incapacitated"!

Fandom is D.Gray-man!

Character/Pairing is: Allen and Lavi!

Shut up, I told you it was predictable.

"P" is for predictable! Apa/memes

.____.

He was quiet for a long moment, which was admirable restraint; or deplorable, depending on your point of view, whether you were a bystander or a certain panda. Because even though he should've been asking questions -- what happened? how did the battle end? where's the old man? -- he stayed quiet. There was a part of him that thought that if he moved, if he spoke, he would distress the boy carrying him right now, and he didn't want to do that, even though wispy tips of white hair were tickling his ear.

Until the boy said, "I can tell that you're awake, you know."

Lavi felt a smile touch his lips, even though he hadn't meant for it to be there. His breathing must've changed enough for Allen to feel. "I was just thinking about how impressive it is that a midget like you can carry me without my legs dragging on the floor--"

"Shut up." He could hear the smile in Allen's voice, even before he laughed to himself, back shaking lightly under Lavi's weight. "I'm stronger than I look."

Lavi paused, just for a beat. "Yeah, I know."

He stretched out a hand, flexing his fingers. His whole body ached, and he felt weak -- useless. If he tried to slide down off Allen's back, he'd probably just collapse bonelessly to the ground.

"Stop that," Allen said. "Don't push yourself. Let me take care of you; I'll get us out of here safely."

"Yeah, I know."

They moved for a few minutes more in silence; just Allen's footsteps, Allen's warm back, their soft, labored breathing. When Lavi forced his eye open, he saw that they were in the discordant bright sunshine and whitewashed stone walls of the Ark. Allen was taking them through its long winding roads to the door that led to the Order HQ, slowly but steadily. He also saw the bright red that streaked Allen's leg, and he shifted, starting, "You're hurt--"

"Not as badly as you are," Allen said, not so much as blinking. "I was ready for anything when I decided to go help you."

Hurt because he was trying to save us, Lavi thought, and the surge of -- he didn't even know -- the surge of emotion was strong. He wanted to yell at Allen, or maybe at himself. Was it really worth it? Saving people who left in the middle of the night without so much as a word to their so-called friends?

Another step, and another. A drop of blood fell silently to the pavement, and then another. Allen murmured, "You know that turning in your Innocence and walking away doesn't make you less one of us, right? That it doesn't change what we've been through together, right?"

That was what Lavi didn't understand about him. How he could just -- cut to the heart of an issue, without even really knowing what he was talking about. Some blessing of insight that only felt like a curse because Lavi had never, ever wanted him to know those doubts.

"...I know," Lavi said, feeling numb, bent out of shape or broken. Something he'd only really felt around Allen.

"--well," Allen said, philosophically, "for someone who knows so many things, you seem to need to be reminded of them a lot."

Lavi blinked, and then he laughed, the sound startled out of him -- loud and genuine.

eeeeeeeeee ♥

This reminds me, a little bit, of the Phoenix-themed story you were writing before. And how Lenalee refused to talk to Lavi, but Allen would.

It's just awesome. Thank you. :D ♥♥♥

This is beautiful. The simplicity of the plot and depth of the dialogues. hehe... i really wish you would continue it. Btw, why don't you post your fic on fanfiction - you would get more readers and feedback there. I only come across this site by accident. It's like picking a piece of glass to discover it is a diamond. I really love your fanfiction :D

A, Air, Aqua +/ Ventus

--and then she sits down with her back to a cliff and she rests her head in her hands and for a moment it all comes crashing down, the oppressive darkness and the interminable loneliness and the despair for who knows how long she's been here, and she wonders how he's doing, if he knows that she didn't come back, and if he's lonely, too.

Ven stared up at the ceiling and said, "I feel kind of out of place."

Aqua turned around immediately to look at him, saying, "Ven, that's not true. You belong here, with us." There wasn't even a question in her mind.

He played with the cuff of his pants thoughtfully. "I know that. I was just thinking that -- your name is related to water, and Terra's name is related to earth... And sometimes I like to think of you that way. Like the seashore or something. But then what am I?"

She smiled to herself and turned away again, lifting a hand to put in the earrings that she so rarely got to wear. For a boy who prided himself on his growing maturity, Ven could be such a dreamer, sometimes...

"Do you know what Ventus means?" she asked him, and then continued, because he obviously didn't. "It means 'wind'. So if Terra and I are like the seashore, then that makes you the breeze that washes over us both."

Like a breath of fresh air, she thought. Ven had always been like that.

He was smiling to himself again when she turned around, and he looked over at her, maybe a bit shyly pleased. "...thanks, Aqua."

"It's the truth," she said simply.

Ven seemed ready to slide off the dresser and get to his feet again, but he paused, thoughtful. "Are you in a dress?" he asked.

...so he'd noticed. The question was so innocent and unselfconscious that she couldn't even get annoyed at how long it had taken him, so Aqua put her hands on her hips and just said, "Yes. I'm going out with a friend."

"Who?"

"I do have other friends, you know..."

--She didn't know when she'd fallen asleep. She shook her head and stirred, pushing herself to her feet. She couldn't let down her guard like that, not here, not anymore.

But she did feel a little better, after that brief rest. It felt like everything had slowed down, like she could think and feel again, like the darkness wasn't quite so dark anymore.

Like a sudden breath of fresh air.

L is for Lies!

D.Gray-Man/ Lavi&Allen. (I BLAME YOU AND APA, OK?)

IGNORE THIS ONE
I FORGOT ABOUT IT
DO THE OTHER ONE INSTEAD

YOU.

YOU COULD DO BOTH
IF YOU WANTED

JUST SAYIN'

how did i pick the exact same icon
/stops spamming now

M for "meeting," Xemnas + Vanitas? ^_^;;

He paced slowly and with great deliberation over the ruined grassy ground; he paused, nudged a fallen gold ring with his boot. His gaze followed the shape of it -- to a limp chain, to a broken pole -- and somewhere in his mind he could see what it had looked like when it had been intact, in the glory days of this shattered world. When the stars still shone, and the gold ring swung with idyllic whimsy, suspended in the air on a rotating mount, a toy, a decoration, a remnant of a more peaceful life.

"I know this place," Xemnas murmured to himself, and lifted his arms and closed his eyes, to bathe in the absence of light.

"Really?" said a voice from behind him. "You lived on this miserable little rock?"

He was displeased to be interrupted, but he lowered his arms, attention turning thoughtfully behind him. There was a figure in black there, young, and his attire was familiar -- the corded black armor, the cruel heart etched in red. He had seen this figure before.

But although he had a helmet on -- so it was impossible to see his face -- he did not have the same lingering scent of darkness that Xemnas associated with those others connected to his true self. Instead, there was a different sort of darkness to him.

Cold. Aloof. Pure.

"That is not for me to say," Xemnas answered dispassionately.

"Lucky you, then," said the figure. The scorn in his voice was plain. "This pathetic world was overrun with keyblade masters and so-called guardians, but they couldn't raise one puling boy to be worth my time. You wouldn't have wanted to be from here."

"Is that so."

The figure laughed, an ugly, harsh sound. "That's right. They were all useless fools. They thought they were so good and righteous, but all it took was a little look inside to see how fake they really were."

The more he talked, the more that Xemnas felt something twisting inside him. It was foreign and unfamiliar, bringing out some darkness; deeper and more horrible than a creature of darkness like himself was accustomed to feeling. He watched the figure silently, trying to measure the sensation.

"You, though," the figure said, contemplative, and stopped in his tracks. "You're different. There's real potential in you. It's kind of..."

He trailed off, and did not continue. Xemnas did not say anything, and so there was silence between them for a moment, just two men, standing a short distance apart in the darkness of a world with no heart.

Then the figure said, "I bet you'd be able to appreciate what we're doing." He was smiling; Xemnas could not see it, but he could hear it. "We're looking for Kingdom Hearts. We're going to remake the World."

A noble goal, Xemnas thought, but could not quite make himself say. There was still that sensation in his chest, hot, heavy...

"And all we really have to do is kill one worthless starry-eyed brat!"

Anger. It was anger churning inside him; more than anger, maybe; rage, fury, loathing. Xemnas felt his lips draw back from his teeth and then he was lunging for the masked boy, grabbing him, snarling, "Don't talk about him that way."

And then he was alone, collapsed to his knees in the front hall of Castle Oblivion, and he whispered blindly to Saix, whom he knew would be standing behind him; "A team-- A team will have to come here. To investigate this place."

But he could not be with them.

Brrr~! This is made of awesomesauce and win~~! Thank you so much!! <33333333333333

S is for SCIENCE!

Code Geass / Science Trio (Lloyd, Cecile, Rakshata)

It was a sad fact that Cecile was usually the only woman in her classes, and almost as commonly, the youngest person in her classes. She had always been the one girl at the playground who sketched out sakuradite processors in her looseleaf binders, and she had resigned herself to this fate. Earl Asplund had told her sagely that genius was a lonely path to walk; and Cecile, widowed at 22, found herself coming close to agreeing. She was at something at a loss to go back to her cheerful life as a social creature. After a long time of suffering, she told herself that if one reclusive, spidery man with an inordinate love of pudding was to be her sole confidant, then so be it.

But as it turned out, she couldn't live like that. So when she saw the Indian woman smoking casually at the back of her thermostatic engineering practicum, she couldn't help but be excited.

She turned to Lloyd when the professor instructed them to form research teams and whispered, "Oh please, let's ask Rakshata Chawla! She just got here from the Militarized Zone of India, she could probably use the encouragement, don't you think?"

Lloyd's expression immediately soured. "Why would I want to add more strangers to our research group? I don't even like listening to my existing partner."

That would be Cecile, who was as good as furniture for all that he thought of her as an actual human being. She said stubbornly, "It's the right thing to do. Look, no one is going over to he-"

"Right and wrong are not scientific concepts and have no place in a classroom," Lloyd muttered. "This is thermostatic engineering. Please go find the ethics class if you're concerned with right actions."

But he muttered it into his textbook, where he was already sketching out the core design components. As far as Cecile was concerned, tacit allowance that he didn't feel strongly either way. She got to her feet with a bright smile and crossed to introduce herself to her new, young, female classmate.

Lloyd finally looked up as they returned, somewhat wary. Cecile opened her mouth to introduce them when Rakshata drawled, "That's your component? It looks inefficient and overpowered."

Cecile looked down at the sketch with some surprise; Lloyd's eyebrow twitched. "Is it still the right thing to do if the reason she has no partner is because she is disagreeable?" he wanted to know.

Cecile smiled a bit apologetically. "I'll leave that to the ethicists..."

T is for Tea Party

Aqua, Terra, and Ven

Ven said unsteadily, "Look, I'm just asking you if you know where I can find-- Gah!"

He stumbled to his feet just in time as the chair suddenly yanked itself out from under him. The man with the hat was pouring him another cup of tea, rambling with good-natured cheer, "Oh, we have too much time to look for things! There's too much!"

"The clock's broken," said the hare, and the man agreed, "I think we put too much cream in it!"

This was not a promising beginning. "Why would you put cream in a clock?" Ventus asked, not quite sure he wanted to know the answer.

"Because we were celebrating, of course! Oh! Oh my. Is it your birthday, by any chance?" asked the man, eyes widening.

"What? No..."

If anything, the man became more excited. "Excellent! Then you can celebrate your unbirthday with us!"

The hare very abruptly got to his feet as they started to sing, and shoved Ven unceremoniously. "Change seats!" he cried.

Ventus stumbled in front of him around the table, with the very distinct impression that he wasn't going to find anything useful on this world.

*

Terra was starting to feel the simmer of irritation under his skin. He'd only been in this stupid garden for a minute and already he felt a deep resentment for the playful and entirely unhelpful people of this world.

"I said I need to find Ventus," he repeated, flatly. "Have -- you -- seen him? He's about this tall, with blond hair--"

He lifted his hand to gesture at the correct height, and the hare said avidly, "What's that silly thing in your hand?"

Terra glanced at it, distracted. "It's a keyblade," he said.

"Oh really! That's supposed to open a door? There's simply no way!" protested the man in the hat. "It would have to be a really big door."

"Or a really lazy lock," opined the hare.

"Where is Ven?"

The man got to his feet suddenly, scrambling around the table. "I know! I know what will fix it," he announced delightedly. "We'll use the butter so that it fits!"

He slapped a tub of half-melted butter on the head of Terra's keyblade. He stared with some astonishment as the yellow mass dripped and fell off the length of it, and only half-heard them saying, "What about sugar?" "Oh, you can never have too much sugar!" "Do you think he'd like some cake?"

But then he started getting really angry.

*

Aqua drew her brows together, observing the garden's wreckage with concern. "What happened here?" she demanded, feeling a familiar tightness in her chest. She felt almost as if she knew what the answer would be, and she dreaded it.

"There was a very tall man here with a very silly key," said the man in the hat, upset. "And look what he did to our tea party!"

She glanced away, lips thinning into an unhappy line. "Terra," she murmured to herself. "Why do you keep doing these terrible things?"

G is for Growing.

Kingdom Hearts/Riku and Terra

He sees the boy through the keyblade that their hearts share. He has nothing but time now, time and an eternal but futile struggle with the man who stole his body, so when his body sleeps, there is nothing but Master Xehanort's gloating and images of the boy.

That is how Terra gets to know the boy to whom he decided to will his keyblade.

A race, one time, or a hundred times, laughing as he pulls ahead and says, "C'mon, Sora! You can do better!" The words are familiar. He's goading his younger friend, not mocking, and the child doggedly manages to run just that little bit faster to keep pace with him.

That flicker of kindness hidden beneath a tough surface: that was what Terra saw in him, that first meeting. The kind of boy who would stretch out a hand to a stranger who seemed lost, without necessarily opening his heart.

And there was a girl, who shone special and bright, who caught at his interest. The two boys are drawn to her, circle around her like things in orbit. Although the boy wants to impress her, he possesses a special clarity, and he can see so easily that his friend is enamored of her, and so he takes a step back and lets their friendship grow faster, becoming a third wheel in their changing relationship.

That flicker of uncertainty, doubt, self-sacrifice. The feeling that he should forfeit his own interests for the sake of his friend. That, too, was something Terra admired in him; something Terra understood well.

And there was a raft. The boy wants to build it to sail out and see more things, more worlds, than his tiny play island and his sleepy town on a beachfront hill can offer him. His friends help him, although they don't share his drive, his growing unhappiness, his dark and secret thoughts.

The boy stands at the shore and he thinks, This world is too small.

"Ngh--"

Master Xehanort laughs leisurely. "That boy is just like us," he says, proudly. "What a great successor you've chosen."

It infuriates him to know that Xehanort can see the boy; Terra wants to protect him from that cursed gold gaze. This boy is his one last hope, the one real plan that he still nurtures. "Leave him alone!"

"I have done nothing to him. You are the one who planted that seed of darkness in his heart -- you are the one who made him think there was more out there." His tone is almost solicitous. "But it isn't all your fault. Did you think a boy that you would feel a connection to would be free of his own darkness?"

"Shut up," he snarls, hiding himself and the vision of the boy as best he can.

Xehanort sees only the darkness in him, but he has watched this boy come of age, and even as the darkness in him grows, there is still a great light. As long as he holds onto it, Terra knows the keyblade will come to him when he needs it.

"Don't forget that kindness," he whispers to the boy.

*flails* Thank youuuuu.

You made this hurt in all the right places. But it's still got that hope and perseverance, which is also what I was looking for ♥

D is for Duty.

Bleach, Renji/Rukia

She always managed to find something to complain about, Renji knew that. When they were students, he was always too bad at kidou for her or too good at swordplay for her. When they'd been little, someone always failed to move fast enough when they snatched a basin of water, and even in their leisure time she could never find the perfect shell to decorate or the right length of feather to play with.

That was the annoying part of going on a mission with her.

"It's too cold here," Rukia complained into her scarf. She glared at him, as if he were responsible somehow and she expected him to apologize and correct the climate.

"We're in a blizzard," Renji pointed out. "In a cave."

"Do you think I'm blind and haven't noticed this? Hmph." She sulked, wrapping her scarf tighter around herself. "I'm no fool like you."

He muttered, "Yeah, yeah," and slid closer to the fire she had created, but he kept his eyes on her.

Her hands were so delicate and white, and she was wringing them, pacing, trying to get heat circulating in her body. Rukia was small, terribly small, and the amount of power in that small body was impressive enough to keep him comfortable in the knowledge that she could take care of herself in combat -- but it was, at the same time, not as well-suited to handling cruel environments as his bigger, rough-hewn shape. A thousand Hollows could not take her down, but he worried that maybe -- just maybe -- she might be too cold in this storm.

"Do you want my cloak?" he asked, for what must've been the third time.

"No, Renji!" she snapped. "I don't want your stupid cloak! Keep it and keep yourself warm, you big idiot!"

"I don't need it as much as you do!" he snapped back. "Will you just take the damn thing?"

"Over my cold dead body!"

They glared at each other, but Renji broke the stare first, gaze sliding away reluctantly. ...She really could die like this, if she weren't more careful. And when she resumed pacing he could see that her teeth were tight against the cold. Their arguing was practically all that was keeping her warm, even with the fire going.

He sighed, irritable. He wasn't about to keep shouting at her to keep her comfortable until she keeled over from hypothermia. Then he said, "Come here!", still not looking at her.

There was an untrusting pause. "What?" she asked, wary. Like perhaps she thought he might be deranged from the cold.

"Just come here. I have an idea."

He kept his tone reasonable and even. No more shouting. She took a tentative step over to him, a frown on her pretty flushed face. He made a hand gesture, beckoning, and she took another one. It was like luring a wild animal.

"Rukia," Renji said, starting to lose track of his mild tone. She scowled at him more, but obligingly took the last few steps over, and let him reach out to take her hand and draw her down -- down, until she was sitting on the ground in front of him.

"What is the meaning of--" She gasped, startled, as he coiled around behind her, pressing his chest to her back, a leg on either side of her, arms wrapped around her waist. He was big enough to fit all the way around her, and for a moment he just closed his eyes, enjoying the feel, and the smell of her hair under his chin.

It was warm where they touched.

Renji said, "This way we can both be warm." It was almost inaudible even to his own ears, but he could feel the vibration of the words against her back.

She was silent, so very silent. She didn't move, at least, so he started thinking, finally, that he might have done the right thing. "Alright," she said, with a gruff tone that was peculiar to Rukia trying to sound like she was complaining when she wasn't. "But only because I won't be able to finish this mission if I die like an idiot."

And the wonderful part of going on a mission with her was definitely the forced proximity.

W[ake] - Racquel+Primera+Billy Lee Black

(I . . . I lack Xenogears icons.)

Raquel held her son's hand tightly and explained, gently, "This is how we honor the dead, Billy."

It was cold, and that was Billy's major concern. He huddled deeper into the threadbare coat that Raquel had made him with the payment from her most recent commission; she was a leatherworker who could not afford to use her leather for her own family until she was very sure that the rent would be paid, the groceries were budgeted for, and the weather would allow. "But why does it have to be outside?" he wanted to know.

"I just told you we're honoring the dead, didn't I, boy?" They were the same words his father might've used, if that man had still been around, but her voice was warm when she said it, fond. "We have to let the departed be present, too. And you wouldn't want to be in some closed stuffy room with him."

Billy darted a covert glance over at the pine box that held the body. Although the wind was whipping snow in his reddened face, he could make out its dark painted edges. He didn't like it, and he burrowed his face in his mother's skirt. "How soon can we leave?" he wanted to know.

A part of him was thinking, We never would've had to go to one of these horrible things in Etrenak! I want to go back. But at the same time he could hear his father's voice, telling him again, We're done with this place forever, son. Put it out of your mind and look to the future. That's what a man would do.

But it was hard to want to be a man when you were ten, and very very cold, and in the presence of a dead body.

"This man was our friend, Billy," Raquel said, gently. "You liked the milk Lars brought us well enough, so you should show your respect for the life of the man who risked himself every week to come to us."

If nothing else, that brought a reaction out of him; reluctant, but Billy lifted his head, and peered back at the box. Hot milk was his favorite treat in a place that was very sparing with treats, and he had been able to enjoy it many nights.

"Okay," he mumbled. "What should I do?"

Raquel smiled, her auburn hair falling into her face, white and red from the terrible cold. She shifted the sleeping Primera in her no-doubt tired arm and took Billy's hand again with her free arm. "A wake is where we pray for the dead," she told him, soft, and drew him closer to the coffin, step by careful step. "It is where we stand guard over the dead, and think of how well they lived their lives, and all that they did for us. And then we return the favor, and pray that they will be well-sent on their way into the eternal."

Billy let her lead him to the coffin, and he peered in reluctantly over the edge, to see Lars's still, frozen face. He wasn't frightening, even though he didn't stir as the snow drifted in to rest on his face, and did not melt, even though his cheeks weren't red from the cold the way theirs was. In a way it was as if he'd gone to sleep; as if the end of his life had simply been a sigh, and a soft departure, and perhaps something else.

"Thank you for the milk," Billy whispered to him.

Raquel squeezed his hand. "See?" she said. "Death is nothing to be afraid of."

That was what they taught you in Jugend, but those who went to Jugend did not die peacefully, in their sleep. Raquel had never told him that part.

Oh, man. This is great--thanks. I like the way you write Racquel, and the way you juxtapose her manner and the absent Jesse's. "They were the same words his father might've used, if that man had still been around, but her voice was warm when she said it, fond," packs so much into so few words.

It is perfect the way Racquel has to put things into a ten-year-old's perspective by reminding Billy of the milk, and he would be longing for Etrenak almost constantly.

The last paragraph is great, how a soothing platitude gets warped into a Hitler Youth battle cry right at the end like that, and how it also foreshadows the -Wels- attack. Then again, I have a preference for shortfic ending in reversals.

Thanks again.

(I am impressed by this burst of productivity. Also, you must be very, very cold right now.)

~~I meant to check the spelling on Etrenak before posting~~ I love the reminder that Raquel went to Jugend too, she's a fricking soldier, it's not like she's this helpless damsel that Jessie married for inexplicable reasons. She was tough, too. Just not as tough as a pack of Wels... And I love that Billy lived in and remembers some of Solaris, and the whole dichotomy of this family, and pretty much everything about them. So yeah. Excited to have had the chance to write about them. ♥♥♥

I've been feeling guilty for not doing... any writing... in like a year, and for trying NaNo to make up for that and then failing it almost immediately. So I'm using a neat new toy called 750words.com and it's keeping me exercising that part of my brain. :3

sob my fingerssss why are they always so cold, I'm not usually cold

~~It--it's spelled right, though, isn't it? Or am I missing something here?~~ Oh, definitely. She was in the running to become an Element! It's been so long since I last played Xenogears, I forget--was there ever a flashback to the day Racquel died? Because I've always liked to think that the -Wels- only managed to bring her down by virtue of sheer numbers, and she could have killed them all except the ammo ran out. Possibly this is directly contradicted by canon, but that would not be a first for me.

There is more to unpack in the Black family than humankind can ever truly achieve. And wasn't Sigurd like the Blacks' au pair or something? Or was RoR just screwing around on that one? Either way, I love that there is a connection there. Part of me wants a polished up, properly budgeted remake of Xenogears like burning; unfortunately, the other part looks at Xenosaga and thinks, "Eeeeugh maybe not." BTW I WOULD READ MORE XENOGEARS STUFF. IT WOULD BE A SACRIFICE, BUT I WOULD DO THAT FOR YOU.

Glad to hear 750words.com is working out. Anything that keeps your creativity flowing is aces. (I was so sorry to hear about OPPD screwing you over. That kind of thing is hard to come back from.)

How's your circulation? Sometimes I find that skipping out on exercise causes the extremities to get cold more easily than usual.

There was a tiny flashback; the kids were hiding in the pantry and they saw her being attacked by a handful of Wels. But I too choose to believe that she fought and was outnumbered. :( I was explicitly told that Raquel was awesome and I won't let anyone tell me she didn't go out like fireworks. ~~I also headcanon her to being a pilot and a hand-to-hand fighter (daggers) so she would've been at a disadvantage against these kinds of enemies.~~

No, that's canon -- Sigurd used to babysit Billy, that's why Billy is all " :D SIGGY!" around him. Sigurd, Ramsus, Citan, Jessie, the old boys' club. I love them so much. ;; Guh I wanted more Xenogears so badly, but my hopes have been dashed! My understanding is that the original team left Square-Enix, but Square-Enix still holds the rights to it but have none of the people responsible, and the bulk of the original team had to switch over to Namco Bandai for Xenosaga, except apparently the ones who were capable of creating characters and stories I was interested in. So Square-Enix might someday decide to redo Xenogears properly, with a budget that will actually last to the end of the second disc, but it seems like long odds since no one who cares about it works there anymore... ;;

I don't ever move hahaha I live on a couch and rely on prayers to keep myself reasonably in shape, so there's no change in my circulation. I think it's just the silly state I live in, where it was 70 degrees F consistently until about, two weeks ago, when suddenly it went, "Wait, NOVEMBER?" and plunged abruptly to below freezing. orz

So that's how it is. Well, whatever. Headcanon!Racquel lives on! I mean, sort of, she's still technically kind of dead. ~~Sure, that explanation works for me.~~

The old boys' club, yes, I remember. I mean, who could forget? But the fact that I get to keep nanny!Sigurd legitimately is like my birthday come early.

Man, even setting the budget thing aside, can you imagine Xenogears by way of PS3 technology? Argh why do we torture ourselves. Maybe I'll attempt to sketch something Xenogears sometime. Will have to check whether it is available through the PS online store yet.

Weather's been weird here too. It's been jumping from early summer to midwinter temperatures and back again within the same week. I can handle either, but what, is it too much to ask for a little consistency?

~~U is for Ubiquitous~~ lol nah

J is for Jubilant. DGM, Kanda/Lenalee. ~~lol predictable too because after those spoilers for 199...D:~~

~~I promise I don't mind, I've been itching to write this pairing. ♥ The spoilers are stupid, I don't pay attention to them until I can read for myself.~~

~~Ohgood. ♥♥♥ They've been confirmed by pictures, though. ;__________________; forever~~

They're still meaningless out of context! Only the full chapter can tell you what's going on.

And even if lol the completely improbable and ridiculous happens and Hoshino writes Kanda out of her story and into a fairytale land of fluff with Alma, I promise to write you a fic about how he ends up with Lenalee anyway.

Yeah, I suppose so. They still threw me for a loop...like all of the spoilers have lately.

Awww, ily. ♥♥♥ The hearts are bigger than everything else because I say so.

I started writing a tense thing, then thought, "No, JUBILANT, Hashire deserves a happy thing!" So I'll have to finish that tense thing later. ♥

She was aware of Kanda's eyes on her as she floated across the room, singing to herself, but she wasn't interested in his opinion. He was the kind of person who would sometimes be cynical just to ruin someone's day, and Lenalee was not about to let her day be ruined.

"God rest ye merry, gentlemen; let nothing you dismay~ Remember Christ our savior was born on Christmas Day~"

Finally he found words, and they were, "I thought you didn't like this holiday."

Negativity, just as she'd thought. Lenalee hummed to herself for a moment as she composed a response in her head, and then said, "Why? Because I hate God?" He was the only one she'd ever said those treacherous words aloud to; a hushed and soft thirteen-year-old girl confessing to her best friend that she shared his feelings about the kind of merciless God who had created this world for His children.

"I love Christmas," she countered, starting to wrap a gift in ribbon. "O tidings of comfort and joy~ Comfort and joy~"

It had nothing to do with the holiday. Nothing to do with God, or Christ, or the church. If all those ideas vanished off the face of the world tomorrow, Lenalee would not be sorry, and she would still celebrate Christmas.

"That's stupid," Kanda told her, although there was no edge to his voice.

Lenalee interpreted that for him. "Why, you ask?" She could feel him scowling at the back of her head and smiled at the gift. "Because I love the kind of holiday it is. A day of goodwill, and love for all people, and warmth in the dead of winter..."

It was the spirit of the religion that she had never quite seen in the everyday world; the love of the teachings, if not the followers. She loved it. And she loved the songs, and the singing, the brief hour when the Order came together to exchange gifts and lift their voices around a burning Yule log like a family.

"That sounds like something that beansprout would say."

Lenalee ducked her head to hide a smile. "I suppose he would," she said serenely. "Since his heart isn't made of coal, like some people's."

She took her now-wrapped present and the remaining long strip of ribbon, bringing the gift over to the little tree in the far corner. Kanda was still standing off to the side, arms folded over his chest, looking sullen, but the expression shifted to become wary as she paced over to him, humming to herself.

Lenalee didn't pause, walking right up to him, close -- very close -- and then singing softly, "Now to the Lord sing praises, all you within this place; and with true love and brotherhood each other now embrace~ This holy tide of Christmas all others doth efface~"

His arms had dropped to his sides as she pressed in close, and she drew her hands up, threading the ribbon lightly around the band that secured his hair.

"...O tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy~ O tidings of comfort and joy..."

Kanda only had to move his head the slightest bit to kiss her, but if he intended to silence her, it was a poor move; it only made her want to hum, to sing, to find some way to share her happiness with the whole world.

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ This made me smile so much. Thank you bb. Yes, finish the tense thing, whatever it was. /wants to read that too ;_;

heyyyyyyyy... Y is for 'Yes.' Bleach Urahara/Yoruichi, please? o_o

Because I am a massive fan of you writing this pairing :3
Also, is it okay if I friend you?

Of course you can! I'm looking forward to writing for you. :3

"You're too good-natured, that's the problem," Yoruichi said sourly as she bandaged up his arm. Kisuke let out a strained chuckle, but a breath hissed between his teeth when she tightened it to finish tying it off.

"Why," he said, in patently wounded tones, "surely you're not implying I allowed an Arrancar to hurt me because I'm too nice?"

She laughed, short but amused. "What's left of him would definitely not call you nice. I'm not talking about him."

She could tell from the way he was holding very still, with none of his usual restless energy; from the way his head was lowered so as to hide his eyes from the light beneath the brim of his hat. He was in more pain than just the scratch on his arm.

He'd gone and dealt with that bitch Benihime.

"Then I don't know what you mean," he said innocently.

"The hell you don't," she responded, and dropped the gauze to the floor gracelessly. Kisuke shifted to look at it. "Like I haven't told you we can deal with our problems without you having to use her power a dozen times already."

He was still for just a heartbeat, and then he lifted his gaze, so that his pale eyes were just visible under the brim of his hat. His expression was serious, for once. "We had some success avoiding her, but I don't know if it's going to keep working from here on out, Yoruichi-san," he murmured.

The beautiful, terrible spirit of his zanpakutou gave him her power in return for his sacrifice, a vicious vampire who took his blood, his energy, his peace of mind. She left him like this, winded down to his core, with his head swollen and sensitive like a drunk's. Kisuke was a great man -- one she had always admired -- and seeing him reduced to this sad creature made Yoruichi want to give that whore a piece of her mind.

But she knew what was on his mind. If I'm not willing to make this sacrifice, how can I expect to defeat Aizen now that he has the Hougyoku?

Yoruichi wasn't willing to make that sacrifice, but like hell if she was going to let Aizen win, either. She'd just have to come up with a compromise.

"I have an idea," she said, smile turning her lips up with familiar catlike curve. Her fingers tangled in Kisuke's jinbei and pulled him closer to her. His eyes widened. "If we can't defeat him with might, let us defeat him with -- innovation."

She was an armorer, after all, and it had been a while since her last creation. He caught her drift immediately, breathing, "Yoruichi-san..."

"And then you can tell that bitch 'no'," she finished, smugly, and then hauled him in for a kiss, ignoring the way he winced again as the sharp movement aggravated his arm.

Yoruichi was a little bit of a bitch herself. And if Benihime had carved her claim out of him, then she felt the very possessive need to restake her own claim before anything else.

R for Rope.

D.Gray-Man/ Lavi&Allen

~~Apa's fault!~~

~~Is not!!~~

~~If we backtrack the blame, it can lead to Hoshino directly instead?~~

~~Six Degrees of Shipper Blame~~

Is it possible to ask for multiple prompts or are we just limited to 1?

E is for eternity for Fei Fong Wong and Elhaym van Houten

One for now! But when I write your request, and I should be getting to these real soon now that I have free time again, you can make another one. ♥

H is still for history. Let's do Yuri, Flynn, and Repede. :3

A-Z Drabble Meme

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/cuddles prompt //"k" is for "killjoy"

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Re: /cuddles prompt //"k" is for "killjoy"

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/slowly keeps chugging

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/this drabble may be influenced by how cold it is here

Hard to pick just one!

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/is an incredibly slow thing

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*sneaks*

sneaks