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In a state of absolute panic, entirely forgetting we now have an electric timer and I actually set the damn thing, I just tore through the apartment to get to the kitchen and rescue my leftover pizza from burning.

I forgot to put it in the oven. Har.

Here, have some ficlets! The ones that hit me right away from the prompts yesterday. Mad throbbing <3 to everyone, because the ones I didn't get to will entertain me today. :D The evil twin is still unavailable for beta, so, um, glaring mistakes, please to be letting me know.

It feels odd to be posting things without titles. Not really worksafe.

For [livejournal.com profile] 0x: SH1, Keith and Yuri, hunger.

On the far side of the old library, Keith paces the bank of dark windows. Like a predator, Yuri thinks warily, his gait inhumanly smooth and precise, his boots coming down in exactly the same places each pass so there's only one perfect set of footprints in the dust.

"You, uh, hungry?" Yuri asks. He tries not to think too much about how Keith's a bloodsucking vampire - Keith's good in a fight, as tough as he is, and it's not like Yuri's actually seen any of this bloodsucking thing going on. For all he knows, the rituals Keith uses to drain the life from their enemies is all the vampire needs.

But now he's thinking about it, and wishes he wasn't.

He wishes they hadn't had to come back to this castle, either, even if he doesn't remember much of the months he spent holed up in the tower. Time's running out, though, and if there's something here to help them, they need it.

"Yes," Keith says, sharp and short and hissing. "I haven't-" he hesitates, laughs a little to himself, and passes a hand over his face like he's painting his rueful smile on. "You don't really care to know, do you?"

"Nope. Just being nice." Yuri gestures at the heavy wooden door. "Don't tell me about it, just go do it."

Keith drops a hand to the sword belted at his hip. "Are you certain? After all, you have nothing but my word that I'm not a fiend feeding upon my villagers."

Yuri ignores the possessive, coveted way Keith talks about the people of Bistritz, like they're exceptionally fine cattle, saying, "Alice says you're safe, that's good enough for me."

"Safe," Keith says, considering, tasting the word. "She says I'm safe," he says, stalking a few feet from the window and then suddenly in Yuri's face. "Do you think I'm safe, Yuri?"

This close, with the light in Keith's eyes burning hot on his skin, not sure if Keith's thinking about eating his face off or stuffing a hand down his pants, no, Yuri doesn't think Keith's one bit safe.

"Your teeth aren't in my neck, so, yeah?" Yuri says, shuffling back just a couple inches. "Safe as me, anyway."

Keith eases off, smiling. "Yes. As safe as you."




For [livejournal.com profile] morningxstorm: SH2, Nicolai and Yuri, something with balance of dark and light or contrasts, balance of power/power struggle. Spoilers.

Yuri's used to waking up facedown in the middle of the Graveyard. He's used to finding odd things in there, like floating masks and demonic - or is that holy? - trees. He's even used to having a little dead girl poking around looking for his happiness. Not much surprises him anymore.

When he's not used to finding, after he stands up and brushes himself off, is Nicolai slumped against Nox's altar staring up at the blackness of his soul.

"Who the hell let you in here?" Yuri says.

Nicolai turns, his face blinking from smooth and self-assured to Astaroth's vicious, twisting snarl. "I think you did," he says, his features his own again.

"Yeah, well, maybe," Yuri says, thinking about Albert Simon and the Forest of Wind. "But you can let yourself right back out again."

Nicolai stands with a soft, amused noise. "I don't think it's that easy." He touches Nox's altar, one soft, sweeping caress that echoes close to Yuri's heart. "I'm not sure I exist anymore, except here."

"Quit it," Yuri says, scrubbing a hand over his chest. Nox habitually stirs without his permission, and almost always when the Sapientes Gladio lackey is close at hand. He doesn't really want to think about why, just in case Nox whispers the answer in his ear. "Go find somebody else to haunt."

"No," Nicolai says, and strokes his fingertips down the length of Nox's glowing sigil.

Nox's low growl spills from Yuri's lips, the sensation mirrored on Yuri's flesh as if Nicolai's bare hand had touched him. "Quit it, I said!" Yuri shouts, short of breath from the effort but still in control. "Dying in here's worse than out there."

"I believe you," Nicolai says, his hand still on the altar. "But do I want you to finish the job, or do I want something else?"

"Hell if I know," Yuri says. He turns his back on Nicolai and heads for the gate. "Figure it out for yourself, I'm busy."

"I'll be here, Yuri," Nicolai calls, sounding alone, lost and desperate, over the grating stone doors. "I'll be waiting right here!"

The gate slams shut, cutting off Nicolai's voice. Into the silence, Yuri says, "You do that."

At the same time as he hates the tug of pity in his chest, he's grateful for it. It means he's still more human than monster.

He doesn't look up at the tree.




For [livejournal.com profile] moffit and [livejournal.com profile] dr_schreaber, because they perved over the same idea: FF7, Reno/Rude, (Rufus/Reno), Rude is somehow is the reason Reno gets in trouble with the higher-ups.

Rude is a calm, level-headed sort of hitman. Nothing much fazes him anymore, not bullets whizzing past his ears or explosions nipping at his heels, or even the hulking, screeching creatures that haul themselves on razor-blade claws out of Hojo's tanks.

Reno strolls out of the boss's office looking righteously pissed off and viciously satisfied all at once.

Subtly shifting his weight, Rude asks, "How'd it go, partner?"

Green eyes dance with the manic light that sends Heidegger scurrying for a hole in the wall. "Not bad," Reno drawls, "not bad. Partner."

"Ah," Rude says, falling into step beside Reno. Inside his gloves, his hands are warm, a little damp. The Tower's upper floors are always overheated. "The-"

"Don't worry about it," Reno says. "Got it all taken care of. Smooth sailing." He flicks a glance at Rude and bangs open the stairwell exit. "Reactor'll be back online by midnight."

Rude eyeballs the dimly-lit passage. It's easy to get away with things on those stairs. They're not cleaned regularly, maintenance is lazy about low-traffic areas, and Reno probably knows exactly where every camera's blind spot is.

He knows what's coming, and even if it wasn't his fault, he'd still let Reno get away with it, because somewhere along the line, he lost the ability to be utterly and completely practical about Reno. But the fact is, it was his fault this one time. Reno didn't deserve whatever dressing down he just got from the boss.

So, it isn't a surprise when Rude finds a steel-band grip on his arm, and he doesn't do much besides soften his landing when Reno jerks him around to make nice with the wall. His ego bitches out of habit and he pointedly tells it to shut the fuck up, he knows he's at least half a fag, so what does it matter if being reminded Reno's packing a good bit of muscle on that skinny frame does it for him.

Reno plasters himself to Rude, cock hard and the light in his eyes clicking to feverish and eager in a heartbeat. "So now you owe me, partner," he says, his face shoved up close to Rude's and his breath thick with the smell of come. "Your turn to get down on your knees and get your face fucked."




And finally, because [livejournal.com profile] windsorblue is bonkers: FF7/Smokin' Aces, Ivy/Rude/Reno.

Reno thinks about all the reasons why what he's looking at isn't possible: one, there's no fucking way there'd be two of them; two, if there were, they both wouldn't be standing in this very room, at the very same time, because it ups the chances of the world imploding exponentially; and three, the fucking universe just doesn't love him that fucking much.

But there they are, in his very own shot-to-shit-in-two-minutes-flat living room, standing three and a half feet from each other exchanging the dirtiest, hairiest eyeball Reno's ever seen.

Reno might just come in his pants if one of them so much as even twitches.

"You say your name's Ivy, yeah?" Reno says, smoothly and not one bit subtly planting himself right between Rude and the new guy. He holds out a beer like a peace offering. "And you ain't been to Midgar before."

"Yeah," Ivy says, his voice is this soft, menacing sort of whiskey-smooth that just ripples straight down Reno's spine. He doesn't take his eyes off Rude long enough to even glance at the bottle.

Reno shrugs and takes a swig of it himself. "Never even heard of it?"

"Nope."

"Huh," Reno says. He licks his teeth, downs another mouthful, and says, "Huh," again.

"Reno-"

"Chill, Rude, man, just chill," Reno says, shooting Rude a smile and a hard-edged glare. "Just lemme talk to Sir Ivy over here for a sec, yeah? Okay." Rude makes a low, rumbling noise that Reno takes for agreement, so Reno turns back to Ivy. "You lookin' to stay awhile?"

For the first time since Reno showed up and stopped the fireworks, Ivy looks at him. Really, really looks at him. Reno almost goes down on the guy right then and there.

"Maybe," Ivy says. "If you're offering something worth my time."

Reno basks in the delicious thrill curling up deep in his gut. "Oh, fuck baby, yeah, have I ever got something to offer. Me and Rude here, we'll hook you up good with the boss." The room's trashed anyway, so Reno just lets the beer drop and snags a handful of Rude's jacket instead. "But how about I introduce you to the perks of the job first?"

Ivy looks back to Rude, and whatever he sees there puts a smile on his face. All the blood in Reno's veins just shoots straight for his dick.

"Alright, Reno," Ivy says, following Rude's lead by taking a step closer, one hand firm on Reno's shoulder, both of them pushing him down to his knees, "why don't you."
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