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Character + Character + Halloween/scary/whathaveyou theme = drabble

If I post it now, I might actually get them all written by next year >_>

Post requests all ye who dare enter here.
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In the beginning Zack Fair and General Sephiroth barely knew each other at all and this how that began to change.

Written By Me )

Written By Muse )

Written By Me )
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Title: How Legends Are Made: Pray for the Wicked; Pray for the Pure
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy is property of Square. This work is a fan work meant to be a commentary on the original. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.
Word Count: ~1900
Completed or In Progress: Complete/Part 3 of the series
Summary: ShinRa releases the first campaign video of the new SOLDIER program.

Legends )
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Title: Go Back To Sleep : Pray for the Wicked, Pray for the Pure.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mentions of death, but nothing too graphic.
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy is property of Square. This work is a fan work meant to be a commentary on the original. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.
Word Count: ~1500
Completed or In Progress: Complete/Part 2 of the series
Summary: Sephiroth arrives in Wutai and the current commanders aren’t entirely pleased. When he runs his first engagement, they are even less pleased. Also any feedback on Seph is appreciated. I'm going to be really focusing in (I hope) on what being born and bred as this perfect SOLDIER did to him beyond that.

Sleep )
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Title: Project S : Pray for the Wicked, Pray for the Pure.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Laboratory experimentation
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy is property of Square. This work is a fan work meant to be a commentary on the original. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.
Word Count: ~1000
Completed or In Progress: Complete/Part of a Series
Summary: The President tires of Hojo's excuses. It's time to see what Project S can do. Set before Sephiroth's first engagement in the Wutai War.
Author's Notes: First installment of an ongoing series.

Project S )
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Title: Devil Comes A Callin’
Genre: General
Fandom: FFVII
Characters: Reno, Zack
Rating: PG
Length: ~700 words
Summary: AU in which the Turks grab Zack after the ambush outside of Midgar. Waking up is sheer hell sometimes. Written for 30 Evil Deeds #3 the sound of a fan.

Wake Up )
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The first time it was the three of them was on Takasugi’s birthday. After spending a day that, to his mind, meant little more than being another year older, Takasugi retreated back to the room that he shared with the No Life King only to find a surprise waiting for him. This surprise, comprised of Kawakami Bansai and Alucard, had stripped him down in the midst of his confusion, put a blindfold over his eyes and a gag in his mouth. This surprise had also debated at length whether or not Takasugi’s lips would look better stretched around a ball gag or clenched on the length of a bit gag - the bit gag, a piece of polished wood and metal stained black, had won.

It continued with Bansai holding Shinsuke’s arms out and pinned against the bed by his wrists - he could smell the other man above him and felt the heat of his body - and with Alucard’s knees pinning his splayed legs while the vampire’s fingers pried open his ass. Frustrating as hell that they sought to torture him while very nearly pretending he wasn’t even there (frustrating and arousing until he forgot all about being surprised or indignant). Four hands and two mouths assaulted him with an ease that could only come from the two people in the world who knew his body and him so intimately.

And apparently they had discussed this over with each other or were so adept at reading him that they knew without speaking exactly how to compliment the touches of the other. Impossible to decide which might be right when Bansai’s fingers twisted his nipples - sharp and hard - at precisely the same moment Alucard’s mouth took the length of Takasugi’s cock.

The first time ended with his master’s cock deep in him, pounding his ass gloriously and Bansai’s between his lips, pounding his mouth gloriously. When he came, Takasugi very nearly passed out with the force of it and in all honesty he couldn’t remember falling asleep between the two of them when he awoke later caged in their limbs and the heat between all three of them. It took less than a second to decide that it didn’t matter and to go back to sleep.

More times followed that first one though none after were quite as unreal. Bansai became a fixture in Hellsing just as Takasugi had and the three of them - one insanely old vampire and two assassins - became an unstoppable team in the field. Alucard stood in the center of every battle, drawing in enemies who thought that maybe they would be the one to take down the No Life King only to find that vampire wasn’t alone and the two with him were lethal. The pair of them well complimented the vampires tendency to get so immersed in the battle in front him that he paid little attention to anything else.

The victories they won in the name of the Hellsing Organization reflected as well when it was three of them alone and in bed where that unspoken communication still guided them so eerily. The battles made the fucking better and fucking made their operation in battle smoother. A win-win in which Takasugi could not find a single fault from any angle.

It still seemed too surreal at times, like a dream from which he’d awake and mourn in the confines of his mind. Perhaps he wouldn’t feel that way if he could only find someway to name what existed between them. However it defied conventional explanations no matter how hard he tried. ‘Storybook’ didn’t fit because none of them were damsels in distress and all of them served Integra Hellsing who was even less a damsel in distress than perhaps any of them. (She was the iron maiden, a Knight of Round, and a woman who bore as kind of a heart as it was fierce.) ‘Love’ might work inside of a long enough essay detailing the finer points of loving and being loved by a vampire who might not be entirely inhuman any longer but still had little compunction about death and killing and making it last well past the point that it should, or if he found a way to include darker words like obsession and pain and breaking without making other words like faith and trust seem entirely misplaced or at worst coerced.

(Besides he wasn’t entirely sure that Alucard and Bansai felt love for each other so much as mutual respect and admiration coupled with the bond they shared in Shinsuke himself.)

Certainly the relationships he had with Alucard and Bansai were not the same and knew the same to be true for them as well. With Alucard Takasugi’s devotion was a complete thing that could have destroyed him utterly if it were not for the steady presence of the Bansai and the way the older assassin could and often did keep him firmly grounded. What kept it all together and made it work was an unwritten and unshakable trust. After all without a bond that strong how could he place himself so easily and eagerly in their hands? It hadn’t come easily but perhaps nothing that strong or enduring could come without a significant amount of struggle and pain.
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“Go back to sleep, Sephiroth. We’ll be beginning treatment shortly. You’ll feel much better soon.”

Stay awake. Stay awake.

Warmth against his forehead – what was she doing?

Stay – awake.

A hand took his and squeezed. He didn’t understand why she did it. It felt nice.

Stay –

He needed to ask why, but his eyes wouldn’t obey him. He tried to speak, but a croaked sound was all he could make.

- Awake.

He tried to hold onto her hand even as sleep dragged him under and his eyes fluttered closed without his consent.

Don’t leave me.

When he dreamed a woman sang to him. The words eluded him, but for as long as she sang, the pain didn’t reach him so badly. When she stopped he wondered – floating somewhere between dreams and reality – why he ached.


Sephiroth. She called him by his name and not Project Sephiroth, designation Sephiroth, or in Professor Hojo’s case, specimen. He blinked at her.

“Hello.” Then she came closer and he tried to puzzle out where he’d heard her voice before. In his dreams he thought and it was nice. He didn’t understand. Why was she being nice to him? Didn’t she know that it wasn’t necessary? Sephiroth wasn’t like other children, he didn’t need to be smiled at or treated differently.

Oh, but she was speaking again. Habit kicked in and Sephiroth straightened up to listen.

“Better. I don’t think I have a fever anymore.” He did feel better. Getting sick wasn’t new to him. In fact it was strange to not be as sick as he remembered being a year ago. This time had been bad – very bad in fact. Sephiroth had wondered in the throes of his fever if he might die.

“Good. Do you might if I check you over?” He almost gaped at her. No one asked that question. No one ever asked him questions unless it was to gauge his response to the treatments. So why was she? He nodded and tried to not let his sudden wariness show. Kindness wasn’t to be trusted. The one technician who had ever been nice to him had been fired when Professor Hojo found out she’d been sneaking him sweets after his treatments.

He expected pain or something. He did not expect her infinite patience in looking him over. First his eyes then down his throat. She took his temperature, pressed places on his body and asked if it hurt. He never flinched, but answered her honestly even when it did. Then, then, she ruffled his hair when they were done and he reacted swiftly and withdrew.

“You shouldn’t do that, Doctor Crescent. It won’t please the Professor.” Sephiroth looked away when he thought he saw sadness in her eyes. He wanted to tell her that he didn’t mean to be rude. Sephiroth wanted to tell her that the only reason he said anything at all was because he wanted her to stay with him. Even if she stopped touching him, he liked her voice and that she looked at him with a real smile.

“How long will you be here?” He thought she might be a new assistant or an intern maybe; one that would be swiftly moved to another area of research once her time here was done. It would explain why she didn’t know about how he was to be treated by the staff. Professor Hojo had left for a while and the others probably wouldn’t have cared enough to explain when she had arrived.

Ah, that was it wasn’t it?

“You don’t have to be this way. I know how to act.” Sit still. Don’t flinch. No fidgeting. Answer the questions don’t ask them.
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It doesn't rain in the slums, not really. When the sky lets rain fall, it's collected on the plates above and made clean and fresh for the people up there. Some of it escapes and runs along metal beams and grooves until it falls in sheets between the plates themselves - a wall of water. During a rainstorm most of the people in the slums collect, hands outstretched. Water washes away the grime and grit that most of them can't afford to get rid of, but water tastes acrid and sour from the rust and grit collected from the upper plates. It's better than nothing though and much better than slosh of Mako shooting out of a faulty reactor.

Green eyes watch from the safety of a roof top as neighbors and unknown faces scurry to the heavy down pour filtering in between the metallic sections that dictate their lives. His shitty apartment in the slums isn't much, but he has water. More than he can say for those poor fuckers down there.

A drip of water hits his cheek and bothers the red inked tattoo that's still a little too raw. Reno looks up and watches tiny streams of rain run along the metal skeleton of the upper plate. Drops of it splash down at uneven intervals. He thinks that even if it rained for days the slums would still smell like old Mako, sweat, and death.

Nothing will clean this place.


Nov. 22nd, 2012 01:47 am
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Fandom: Bleach AU Scorched
Characters: Kisuke Urahara Juushirou Ukitake
Rating: PG
Summary: What happened after the infamous strip club incident.

Moderation )
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1. kittens
2. paper clip (Alternative: leather whip)
3. the sound of a fan
4. candlestick
5. library
6. monk
7. an old rug, rolled up and tied
8. rusty chains
9. violin music
10. a briefcase full of cash (Alternative: bag of gold)
11. unbearable anguish
12. just between us for now
13. shards of glass, glittering like diamonds
14. A fine, unsmudged line
15. red, white, black
16. 4:54 pm
17. Go outside and shut the door*
18. touch my scars
19. a lost glove
20. the long forgotten smell
21. control
22. sleep
23. amber and jade
24. foundation
25. monologue
26. destiny
27. counting the hours
28. choice of weapons
29. immortal
30. the villain of the story
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Stolen from [personal profile] maplepancakes Thanks Mandy!
Here's the deal. For the month of October you can come here and request a fic! I will post them as I write them and hopefully will have the majority of them done before October is gone. How to request? The guidelines are easy I swear.

x Pick your Characters/Canon
x Add prompts (they don't have to be Halloween themed, but~)
x Add any other request (gen, ship, friendship, racy \o/, angst, drama, game/meme/PSL based character relations)
x Multiple prompts/requests are okay just be gentle? lol
x Most will probably be drabble-ish length

Fandoms I usually write about are:
Final Fantasy VII
Fullmetal Alchemist
X-men (various versions)
Devil May Cry

Other Fandoms I know:
Most Final Fantasies
Dead Rising
Left 4 Dead
Walking Dead
True Blood
and well, just ask if you like!
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The meeting with Integra Hellsing at the notorious Hellsing manor is not entirely what Takasugi expects. While it is very English in design, something dark hangs over the place, this supposed Organization tasked with defending England from supernatural threats. He can feel it deep in his bones and the sensation rouses the voices in head. The neutral expression, broken only by the slightest of smiles, does not waver for the noise even when he takes a seat, flanked by two of his people, in front of the desk of one Sir Integra Hellsing.

She is not what he imagined either; younger than himself by a few years at least, the Head of Hellsing Organization sits alone in her high backed chair with her fingers clasped together, elbows upon her desk.

"Takasugi-san." He is not surprised at the proper use of the honorific. The English tended towards formality on most occasions.

"Sir Hellsing."

"What brings you to our fair country?" It is not hard to read the meaning underneath the words; why did he need to see her. Yet he also doubts that this woman doesn't already know that some who travel with him are not entirely human. His business here does not include run ins with the formidable organization. However, the truth is that simply wanted to see for his own eyes the person who commanded such a place. Knowing ones potential adversaries or allies is always beneficial.

"As you know, I am here on business but some of those who work for me are not human." He smiles at the slightest quirk of her lips. At least she is not entirely without humor. "I wish to avoid any misunderstanding."

"As long as there are no unfortunate incidents upon English soil, we will have no misunderstandings. The Hellsing Organization only deals with entities who prove themselves an unholy threat to Crown and Country. I do, however, appreciate your initiative in contacting us directly. As long as you keep us in the loop, I doubt we will have any problems." The woman's smile is sharper than her words, a quiet warning.


They finish their meeting over English tea and him with his pipe and Integra with her cigarillo. Though it all goes favorably, there is a part of Takasugi that wonders what it would be like to cross swords with this woman and those under her command. While the notion gathers interest, it is passing at best. He has a job to do and now is not the time for distractions no matter how tempting.

The setting sun marks just how many hours he'd remained in the old estate. Curious only in that this meeting had been more enjoyable then at first assumed. They stand in the entry hall, waiting for the cars to be brought around when something else catches his attention. Motion down the hallway and it is the color, a deep blood red, that snags his good eye. Takasugi looks, head tilted as he regards the tall figure moving towards them. The man would easily tower over any one in his group and the red hat upon his head shields most of the man's face.

Man? but no. His assessment there revises almost immediately. Whatever it was, whatever face it wore, that creature is no man at all. The grin alone bespeaks of too many things, inhuman things, and the cacophony in his head pitches higher the closer it came. The red shrouded creature passes by them all with only one sideways look from the corner of yellow glasses. A look that finds Takasugi immediately and one that captures his full and undivided attention. It isn't fear that crawls up his spine but the excitement that comes upon knowing, recognizing, something cut from the same cloth as he. The moment stretches as they size each other up and he thinks he sees the same anticipation in that hellish eye that now runs through him. Then it's over and the creature looks away, ascending the same stairs Takasugi had only recently descended.

He had wondered during his discussion with Integra just what she had at her command to deal with the unnatural forces she must encounter. Now he knows. With a soft, barely heard chuckle, Takasugi walks outside and slides into the back of the car. With his eyes closed and a smile on his face, he listens to the voices of the damned.
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Here's all the mini fics thanks to Plurk Meme. Yes I am a sucker for these. And as we can all tell, I cannot write just one sentence. >_>

Annette + Kisuke; rain.
She's always happy, taking enjoyment in the simplest things in life. With a smile Annette catches rain drops on her hand and turns that smile upon him. In his complex world of intrigue, she keeps him grounded.

Urahara + Yoruichi; Sunlight, dancing, falling.
Even sunlight blurs around Yoruichi when she weaves her way through the bodies around her. Flawless in the way she morphs combat into a dance set to music that only she seems to hear. Yet as perfect as she is in a fight, Kisuke is not sure that her laughter is so charming when she knocks him on his ass.

Urahara + Nanao; SCIENCE
Buzzing, whirring, and bubbling fills the air of his make shift laboratory; a symphony really of his experiments and theories each to be tested and tried until perfect. Which is why it saddens him, breaks his heart, to see Nanao's apprehensive look when she edges into the room. Ah! But could that be a glimmer of curiosity there as well? He can work with that.


Kisuke grabs his poor, abused head. Had hitting him really been necessary? Nanao stares at him, eyes narrowed with a look that could promise murder if she wasn’t blushing. Somehow Kisuke thinks she did not buy his excuse that the kiss had been purely for gathering experimental data on the variations of lip-locking favored by the women of Soul Society. Okay so it is one of weaker excuses. Still the knot on his head was worth it!

Hiyori + Kisuke; Mask
Hiyori hates the way he always smiles and cannot stand that easy laugh. Really she does, or at least that's what she tells herself when he pulls her pigtail and smiles as if she hasn't become a monster, a twisted parody. With a huff she smacks his hand away, secretly glad that the mask hides something that just might be a smile and hope.

Ukitake + Kisuke; to protect
They are day and night - a classic study in dichotomy - yet standing shoulder to shoulder in front of their fallen comrades (one with a grin and one with stern set to his mouth), the similarities between Urahara Kisuke and Ukitake Juushirou shine brighter than their differences. When they move, centuries do not separate them.

Or (since 'protect' prompts always cause multiple ideas)

Ukitake Juushirou embodies, in the opinion of many, the spirit and poise expected of a Captain; he is most often gentle spoken, polite, and offers respect and receives it. Kisuke cannot and would not deny these facts to be true, even when said Respected Captain is waist deep in a pile of discarded boxes and bags, that long hair flying this way and that, as he searches, almost frantically, for a crying kitten. Yes, Urahara decides, Ukitake is still every bit a Captain of renown with his haori askew and a wide eyed kitten tucked in his hands.
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Title: Study
Canon: FMA - Academy Days
Characters: Maes Hughes & Roy Mustang
Rating: PG
Length: ~500
Summary: Logic also could not prevent the warm irritation that gathered in the pit of his stomach every time Hughes slung a too heavy arm over Roy's shoulders.
Disclaimer: Yes we all know that I don't own FMA.

Study )

Part of morning writing routine. Not thoroughly pleased with this. I couldn't quite get my thoughts to go in the same direction. It's up for revision or cutting.
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Title: Battle Broken
Canon: FMA
Characters: Maes Hughes & Roy Mustang
Rating: PG
Summary: He smells like smoke and ash. When they had been in the Academy, Maes had come to associate those scents with Roy and found them comfortable.
Disclaimer: Yes we all know that I don't own FMA.

Battle Broken )


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