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blue_soaring...entirely too soon! But. Between Roomie and I, we have enough books to fill a modest public library (there's even an outdated encyclopaedia set around here somewhere, too - self, figure out what to do with that), and we're attempting to go through them and pick out favourites to take with us. This is very difficult. Eventually, we'll have someone ship everything up, but for the first wave, we're just taking necessities (computer, dishes, undies). I cling to Poe's complete works, Roomie swears she can't live without Shakespeare's, and we both insist on the porn.
I'd forgotten how fun packing is. Uwee!
Haven't yet gotten back in the swing of fandom things. Except for the sadistic Gizel muse that is entirely the evil twin's fault, and Envy's starting to make eyes at Greed again (which is also entirely the evil twin's fault for babbling at me about the subbed Alchemist vs. Homunculus special... Envy wuvs Greed). But instead of any of that, I have a couple vaguely drabble-shaped things to toss out, all from FF7/AC. My copy of AC is sitting at EB waiting for me. Can't wait. CAN'T WAIT.
To Ashes
FF7/AC. Sephiroth/Vincent. PG. 500 words.
The first time he sees Sephiroth's face stripped of the youth that not even Hojo's meddling could prevent, he thinks it's Lucrecia.
*
Vincent dreams of clawing his way free, of the harsh scrape of nails on the coffin lid and the pain of splintered wood driven under his nails. Gradually, the clawing is replaced by the creak and groan of rusted hinges.
He opens his eyes, sucks in a breath heavy with the old dust and dank mould of the basement. Light thick with shadows creeps under the lid. The first time he sees Sephiroth's face stripped of the youth that not even Hojo's meddling could prevent, he thinks it's Lucrecia, and the tight clench of his stomach is accompanied by a cold trickle of fear down his spine.
"All of Hojo's dirty secrets are buried in the basement," Sephiroth says. He steps into the coffin, bringing a short dagger to Vincent's throat. A sword is in his other hand, useless in such a confined space. "Why haven't you killed him?"
Gripping the edge of the coffin, Vincent pulls himself halfway to sitting, as far as Sephiroth will let him. The gun is a heavy weight in his hand, hidden by the tattered ends of his cloak. "He'll die on his own soon enough."
Sephiroth smiles, turning the blade to lightly scrape Vincent's cheek. In spite of himself, Vincent feels his heart twist in his chest as Sephiroth settles above him, knees jammed in tight on either side of his hips. It's been a long, long time since he's heard the sound of another's voice, let alone the heat of someone else's body pressed close to his.
"You know what he's done, what he's capable of," Sephiroth says, the glow of his eyes brighter than a cat's in the dark. Vincent's seen the look in them before, stark on the faces of men about to break.
"Are you here seeking an ally?" Vincent asks. He has no interest in revenge, simply wanting to be left alone. Still, he doesn't draw the gun or push Sephiroth away. "Against Hojo, ShinRa?"
"The world." Sephiroth leans closer, cool steel biting into Vincent's flesh. A hot trickle of blood follows. Vincent swallows, his breath gone short and skin flushed. He understands his body's craving for sensation. Understands it, and yet tries to convince himself he doesn't want it. "Starting here, with this filthy mansion."
"Burn it to the ground if that's what you desire," Vincent says. He eases back, away from the temptation to simply feel, and shakes his head. "I don't care enough to help you, but I won't stop you, either."
Sephiroth doesn't look disappointed, or surprised. "You don't care if I kill you," he says.
"Why should I? Do as you please."
Sephiroth flips the knife in his hand, drives it to the hilt through the wood by Vincent's head. Vincent feels the slight tug on his hair and jerks his head away to free the sheared ends only after Sephiroth draws back.
Without another word, Sephiroth leaves. For the remainder of the night, Vincent listens to the restless rhythm of his footsteps.
*
End
Games to Play
FF7/AC. Reno/Reeve. R. 300 words.
Reeve smells a little like the inside of a reactor, machines and mako.
*
Reno slaps a hand on the polished table, leaning in close. Reeve smells a little like the inside of a reactor, machines and mako.
"Yo," he says. Reeve's pen keeps scratching away like he's hoping Reno'll lose interest. "How's it goin' out there in the brush?"
"They're resting," Reeve says. He reaches for a thick folder, hesitating when he has to wind his arm under Reno's to get it. "North of Gongaga."
"Yeah?" Reno sets his other hand to the table, trapping Reeve between them. His mouth is close to Reeve's ear, warm breaths wafting over his lips. "How're you liking playing the good guy, Reeve? Hear you helped 'em out of a tight spot down there in the prison."
"What do you want, Reno?" Reeve says, dropping his pen and turning halfway around. Reno can practically hear the hard beat of his pulse. "I'm not--"
"Not what?" Reno jams a foot on the chair's base and shoves it up against the table. "You're not gonna give it up for me again?" Grabbing Reeve's wrists, Reno wrenches his arms back, holds them pinned behind the chair. "Maybe I'm here lookin' for something a little different this time."
Reeve tenses, muscles trembling with the need to fight him off. Reno grins. It's one of the best parts about getting Reeve riled up. The guy's always trying so hard to be good.
"Maybe this time I'm gonna get you to bend me over this table," Reno says. "You gonna fuck me good and hard if I ask pretty, Reeve? Fill me up with that nice cock of yours?"
Reeve jerks from the scrape of Reno's teeth. He's not fighting as hard as he should and he's got to know it.
Reno's always figured not saying no is close enough to yes.
*
End
Kisses Like Murder
FF7/AC. Rufus/Reno. PG. 100 words.
Rufus doesn't taste one bit like he thought.
*
Rufus's hands twist in Reno's jacket. His eyes are bright, eager, not smug. He's been waiting a good while for this.
Reno lets him lead. Rufus's tongue flickers against his lips, warm and wet and tempting. Settling his hands on Rufus's hips gets a greedy moan spilling into the close air.
Rufus doesn't taste one bit like he thought. No bitter tang of drugs, no sticky sugar from the drinks he washes them down with. Rufus tastes sharp, fresh. Raw like cold wind.
Shinra offed his wife with mako. It's the last thing Reno figured he'd taste on Rufus's tongue.
*
End
I'd forgotten how fun packing is. Uwee!
Haven't yet gotten back in the swing of fandom things. Except for the sadistic Gizel muse that is entirely the evil twin's fault, and Envy's starting to make eyes at Greed again (which is also entirely the evil twin's fault for babbling at me about the subbed Alchemist vs. Homunculus special... Envy wuvs Greed). But instead of any of that, I have a couple vaguely drabble-shaped things to toss out, all from FF7/AC. My copy of AC is sitting at EB waiting for me. Can't wait. CAN'T WAIT.
To Ashes
FF7/AC. Sephiroth/Vincent. PG. 500 words.
The first time he sees Sephiroth's face stripped of the youth that not even Hojo's meddling could prevent, he thinks it's Lucrecia.
Vincent dreams of clawing his way free, of the harsh scrape of nails on the coffin lid and the pain of splintered wood driven under his nails. Gradually, the clawing is replaced by the creak and groan of rusted hinges.
He opens his eyes, sucks in a breath heavy with the old dust and dank mould of the basement. Light thick with shadows creeps under the lid. The first time he sees Sephiroth's face stripped of the youth that not even Hojo's meddling could prevent, he thinks it's Lucrecia, and the tight clench of his stomach is accompanied by a cold trickle of fear down his spine.
"All of Hojo's dirty secrets are buried in the basement," Sephiroth says. He steps into the coffin, bringing a short dagger to Vincent's throat. A sword is in his other hand, useless in such a confined space. "Why haven't you killed him?"
Gripping the edge of the coffin, Vincent pulls himself halfway to sitting, as far as Sephiroth will let him. The gun is a heavy weight in his hand, hidden by the tattered ends of his cloak. "He'll die on his own soon enough."
Sephiroth smiles, turning the blade to lightly scrape Vincent's cheek. In spite of himself, Vincent feels his heart twist in his chest as Sephiroth settles above him, knees jammed in tight on either side of his hips. It's been a long, long time since he's heard the sound of another's voice, let alone the heat of someone else's body pressed close to his.
"You know what he's done, what he's capable of," Sephiroth says, the glow of his eyes brighter than a cat's in the dark. Vincent's seen the look in them before, stark on the faces of men about to break.
"Are you here seeking an ally?" Vincent asks. He has no interest in revenge, simply wanting to be left alone. Still, he doesn't draw the gun or push Sephiroth away. "Against Hojo, ShinRa?"
"The world." Sephiroth leans closer, cool steel biting into Vincent's flesh. A hot trickle of blood follows. Vincent swallows, his breath gone short and skin flushed. He understands his body's craving for sensation. Understands it, and yet tries to convince himself he doesn't want it. "Starting here, with this filthy mansion."
"Burn it to the ground if that's what you desire," Vincent says. He eases back, away from the temptation to simply feel, and shakes his head. "I don't care enough to help you, but I won't stop you, either."
Sephiroth doesn't look disappointed, or surprised. "You don't care if I kill you," he says.
"Why should I? Do as you please."
Sephiroth flips the knife in his hand, drives it to the hilt through the wood by Vincent's head. Vincent feels the slight tug on his hair and jerks his head away to free the sheared ends only after Sephiroth draws back.
Without another word, Sephiroth leaves. For the remainder of the night, Vincent listens to the restless rhythm of his footsteps.
End
Games to Play
FF7/AC. Reno/Reeve. R. 300 words.
Reeve smells a little like the inside of a reactor, machines and mako.
Reno slaps a hand on the polished table, leaning in close. Reeve smells a little like the inside of a reactor, machines and mako.
"Yo," he says. Reeve's pen keeps scratching away like he's hoping Reno'll lose interest. "How's it goin' out there in the brush?"
"They're resting," Reeve says. He reaches for a thick folder, hesitating when he has to wind his arm under Reno's to get it. "North of Gongaga."
"Yeah?" Reno sets his other hand to the table, trapping Reeve between them. His mouth is close to Reeve's ear, warm breaths wafting over his lips. "How're you liking playing the good guy, Reeve? Hear you helped 'em out of a tight spot down there in the prison."
"What do you want, Reno?" Reeve says, dropping his pen and turning halfway around. Reno can practically hear the hard beat of his pulse. "I'm not--"
"Not what?" Reno jams a foot on the chair's base and shoves it up against the table. "You're not gonna give it up for me again?" Grabbing Reeve's wrists, Reno wrenches his arms back, holds them pinned behind the chair. "Maybe I'm here lookin' for something a little different this time."
Reeve tenses, muscles trembling with the need to fight him off. Reno grins. It's one of the best parts about getting Reeve riled up. The guy's always trying so hard to be good.
"Maybe this time I'm gonna get you to bend me over this table," Reno says. "You gonna fuck me good and hard if I ask pretty, Reeve? Fill me up with that nice cock of yours?"
Reeve jerks from the scrape of Reno's teeth. He's not fighting as hard as he should and he's got to know it.
Reno's always figured not saying no is close enough to yes.
End
Kisses Like Murder
FF7/AC. Rufus/Reno. PG. 100 words.
Rufus doesn't taste one bit like he thought.
Rufus's hands twist in Reno's jacket. His eyes are bright, eager, not smug. He's been waiting a good while for this.
Reno lets him lead. Rufus's tongue flickers against his lips, warm and wet and tempting. Settling his hands on Rufus's hips gets a greedy moan spilling into the close air.
Rufus doesn't taste one bit like he thought. No bitter tang of drugs, no sticky sugar from the drinks he washes them down with. Rufus tastes sharp, fresh. Raw like cold wind.
Shinra offed his wife with mako. It's the last thing Reno figured he'd taste on Rufus's tongue.
End
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-04-29 04:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-01 04:09 pm (UTC)Not that we'd ever really ignore him, because, well, you know. Impossible. XD
no subject
Date: 2006-04-29 04:43 pm (UTC)Err. Have fun packing? :o)
no subject
Date: 2006-05-01 04:11 pm (UTC)My apartment is a disaster area. Nine boxes of books later, I've still got enough to fill three more. x_x
no subject
Date: 2006-04-29 05:03 pm (UTC)I like the first one, which surprises me, because I don't care for Vincent all that much. But it was still really cool. *rolls in the yay*
no subject
Date: 2006-05-01 04:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-29 11:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-01 04:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-30 03:12 am (UTC)*g*
no subject
Date: 2006-05-01 04:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-04 04:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-12 07:23 am (UTC)Good luck with the whole packing thing. I moved last summer and packed 10 large boxes full of plushies. *jumps into a huge plie of plushies, scattering them everywhere* Whee!
Games to Play
Date: 2006-05-23 01:23 am (UTC)Cheyenne