FICBITS FOUR (way to sound like a bad movie)
All right, that's it. I'm way out of my writin' groove and I need to slide back in, so--since I missed the last go-round of ficbits by being at Otakon--let us do the ficbits thing again! And for that, as always, I need your help.

HOW IT WORKS:
You--yes, you, reading this entry right now, no matter how you came across it--leave a comment on this entry requesting a fandom, or a pairing, or a situation, or any reasonable combination thereof. And I shall write you a short fic based on the premise you've provided. My ficbits tend to wind up around 300-1000 words in length, sometimes longer, and I reserve the right to fulfill your request in any way I see fit: porn, drama, comedy, bad verse, stupid parody, puppet shows, etc.
Please note that I am a yaoi/slash fangirl by disposition and therefore your request may be answered in a homoerotic manner.

WHAT I CAN DO:
I'm an RPG fangirl by trade. I've played approximately ninety percent of RPGs currently available for the Playstation and Playstation 2 and a fairly high percentage of GameCube RPGs, plus other kinds of titles. I have not played much Persona or any of the Tales games beyond Destiny, but I've played pretty much everything else.

I also follow a fair amount of anime and manga, usually of the Jump persuasion: I'm good for Naruto and Hikaru no Go, I'm passable at One Piece, and I can fake it for the early volumes of Shaman King. I've seen MaLoki. I've read Saiyuuki. I've read Yami no Matsuei.

I read a lot of books, mostly fantasy and SF. I've seen the occasional movie. I read American comics of the Alan Moore Neil Gaiman Garth Ennis Warren Ellis persuasion, and have recently conceived a vast fascination with Young Justice, so certain corners of the DC universe are not outside my grasp. (Impulse, Superboy, Robin 3, these are a few of my favorite things.) Heck, I watch cartoons, although I am not so much with the live-action television.

Basically, if I've mentioned it here on my LJ, on my site, on my old blog, or even in passing conversation with you, it's fair game. If you ask for something I can't do, I'll tell you so, and you'll get to try again. The first three ficbit challenges are archived here, here, and here, and they will give you an idea of what I can and cannot do.

One fic per person, please. Go to! Ask!

[EDIT, 9/26:] Thread has finally been rendered not work-safe. Proceed with caution.

[EDIT, 9/30:] I have written all ficbits requested and am, therefore, calling this ficbit challenge done. No more ficbits will be written. Thank you all very much for your requests!

(Post a new comment)

startredder 2004-09-21 09:06 pm UTC (link)

You know I'd be your slave for a year if you wrote something with Bart in it, right? Or Waya. My demands are few and simple, really, and you know you want a slave. I promise not to hump your leg. Unless you want me to. . . . Hehe. Puppet show. Everything seems funnier after a couple weeks of reading gothic literature that doesn't have nearly enough stabbings, insane people, and only one crazy nun. (Reply to this) (Thread)

tsukikoushi 2004-09-22 03:50 am UTC (link)

You realize, of course, that YOU ASKED FOR THIS. Two comments' worth, because unsurprisingly, it's long. ===== "Half a moku!" Waya moaned, clutching at his hair as he threw himself off the bus. His sneakers thudded to the pavement and without stopping he bounded across the sidewalk to beat his forehead against the wall. "Half! A! Moku!" "Mmn," Isumi said noncommittally, stepping off the bus in a more reserved fashion. Coming to a halt a couple of steps behind Waya, Isumi turned his attention back to the kifu in his hand and waited patiently for the forehead beating to be over with. "It was a very good game, Waya," he added, shaking the kifu and making the paper snap. "Your go is improving--" "--but so is his," Waya finished for him, abruptly stopping with the beating of his forehead, throwing himself against the wall, and sliding down it until he was sitting on the sidewalk. "I'm so close to a breakthrough, I can feel it, sometimes I can almost see it, but--" An explosion of red and white and brown almost in his face stole the rest of that sentence, and Waya smacked the back of his head against the wall as he tried to jerk away from it. Waya yelped and clutched at the back of his head with both hands, and started to say "Hey, what was--" Then his eyes focused on the apparation in front of him and he shut up. Somewhere above him Isumi made a small startled sound and took three quick steps backwards. The apparition blinked at Waya for a second, then babbled something. (Reply to this) (Parent)(Thread)(Expand)

(no subject) - tsukikoushi, 2004-09-22 03:51 am UTC (Expand)

(no subject) - startredder, 2004-09-22 04:00 am UTC (Expand)

	ladysisyphus 2004-09-21 09:06 pm UTC (link)
	Jr./Gaignun. Sex me up, baby. And if you get done with that and are still bored, give me rugby-playin' college student AU. (Reply to this) (Thread)

tsukikoushi 2004-09-22 04:35 am UTC (link)

You got it. ===== (I have never doubted you for a second Rubedo) and with that, the connection broke, as cleanly as if it had been severed with a knife. Jr. could feel his br/other still, as a slight tingle in the back of his mind, encapsulated and enclosed, like a cyst. (i know i didn't mean it like that) he sent winging towards the remnant of Gaignun. (i just) (i) (yes? you?) Removed and reserved, Gaignun at his CEO-ly best. Jr. winced. (i am the oldest) he tried. (i can take care of myself) (no one is arguing that with you Rubedo) Gaignun's mental voice was cool. (I have faith in you) (every faith) (you know that) (but there are things you need to know before you go charging in) (and I will tell them to you) (if you will listen) (i) (i) (i) (i'm listening) A tingle on the back of his neck, one that deepened into a heavy pressure, like chilled mercury being poured onto his skin. (listen then) and it was softer, deeper, a mental whisper in his ear. Jr. could almost feel Gaignun's breath against the side of his face, even though his br/other was half a galaxy away. (these are the things you must know now) Jr. closed his eyes and leaned back into that touch, letting it spread up along his scalp and down over his shoulders, and listened to Gaignun's voice, quiet in his mind, almost warm on his cheek, if he imagined. He thought nothing else, left his mind open and receptive and empty, even as his fingers danced with preternatural speed over his guns, blindly testing them for faults and finding none. Empty shells pinged off the stone floor by his feet with bright ringing sounds. (you see) It was not a question. Jr. nodded, not opening his eyes. (good) (come home) (to me) (safely) and the pressure lightened and drew away. One tingling touch slid around, water sliding over skin, and stroked up along the front of his throat from collarbone to chin. Jr. swallowed as it touched his Adam's apple, and a single unfired bullet rang brightly against the stones, dropped from fingers turned momentarily clumsy. (Reply to this) (Parent)(Thread)(Expand)

(no subject) - ladysisyphus, 2004-09-22 11:31 am UTC (Expand)

	bigbigtruck 2004-09-21 09:08 pm UTC (link)
	Zoro x Nami or Sanji x Zoro, if you're up for it :D (Reply to this) (Thread)

tsukikoushi 2004-09-22 06:54 am UTC (link)

One Piece, as always, is damned hard to write as prose. But fun! ===== Zoro got hit in the head so often that if he had a schedule, it would be penciled in on every day. 3:00: Nap. 3:30: Get hit in head. 3:31: Kill person who hit me in head. 3:32: Nap. Still, he wasn't really in the mood for it right now, so instead he caught the heavy shoe as it came flying towards his nose. "I'll kill you," he informed the cook. "Like hell you will." Sanji yanked against Zoro's grip on his shoe, then tried to kick Zoro's hand back into his face. The muscles in Zoro's arm stood out like cords, and Sanji got nowhere, either pulling or pushing. So he stopped doing either and lit a cigarette instead, letting Zoro keep his foot. "The problem with you," he continued, plucking the cigarette out of his mouth and gesturing at Zoro with it, "is that you are a boorish, ugly, unwashed, uncultured, insensitive boob, and worst of all, you're an animal who gulps my wonderful food--" and Sanji slammed a hand to the table and kicked out at Zoro's face with the foot he'd just been standing on. The problem was that, like most people, Zoro had two hands, and he caught Sanji's other foot an inch before it could grind his nose to flour. Sanji grabbed at the edge of the table with both hands, strung across the kitchen like a hammock, and then Zoro bared his teeth in something like a grin and snapped his arms, popping Sanji's body like he was popping the wrinkles out of a sail. Sanji crashed to the ground at his feet, breath whooping out of him (although he did not lose his grip on his cigarette). "The problem with you is that you're a moron," Zoro said. And he booted the kitchen door open and dragged Sanji by the ankles to the rail, slinging him out to dangle headfirst over the water. Sanji blew his dangling tie out of his face and took another drag on his cigarette, unconcerned. "You wouldn't dare." "Wouldn't I?" Zoro gave Sanji a quick but extremely hearty shake. "No, you wouldn't." Sanji jetted smoke out of his nostrils. "If you drop me, I'll never cook another meal for you again." He paused, to let that sink in, then added, "No more roast pork." "Hngh!" Zoro's eyelid twitched, like he'd just been punched in the stomach. "No more apple tarts." "Hoogh!" "No more roasted yams. No more chicken cassoulet. No more shrimp dumplings." "Hrgh! Hagh! Hwuf!" "No more meat," Sanji finished triumphantly. "Not one single grain of rice." A vein bulged from Zoro's forehead, his teeth were gritted, his eyes were slitted and wild. Sanji took another unconcerned drag from his cigarette and waited to be hauled back in. Zoro's grip on his ankles tightened and his eyes slammed shut, the muscles of his arms trembling under some kind of strain that couldn't all be Sanji's negligible weight. Zoro's jaw snapped open. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!" he bellowed, his voice booming away over the water. "IT'S WORTH IT!" And he let go. (Reply to this) (Parent)(Thread)(Expand)

(no subject) - bigbigtruck, 2004-09-24 04:25 am UTC (Expand)

(no subject) - eramundo, 2004-09-27 05:25 pm UTC (Expand)

	peripheralsight 2004-09-21 09:10 pm UTC (link)
	Bart in the bridesmaid dress. I ask for these things only because I love you. (Reply to this) (Thread)

tsukikoushi 2004-09-22 11:00 am UTC (link)

Crossdressing speedsters: best thing ever. Two comments' worth. ===== "Hm." pop "Hm." pop "Hm!" pop "Hmm!" pop Having studied the dress from almost every possible angle--more or less simultaneously--Bart declared, "I like it!" "It is pretty, is it not?" Kory said, stroking her fingers over the deep green material. "It was very expensive, but I believe it was worth it." Bart, squatting on the floor and completely destroying the ironed creases in his tuxedo pants, picked up the skirt of the (hideously expensive) bridesmaid's dress and draped it over his head. Fortunately, the only thing currently wearing the dress was its hanger. "I like it from in here, too!" he added, a bit muffled. All around them the other bridesmaids, already in their dark green dresses, milled about, listening to the sounds of the guests arriving (and the occasional uninvited guest being dispatched, rapidly, via robot usher). Gar was also there, not so much milling about as gawking. Trust Gar to be where the girls were. "It is perfect in color and shape for all of us, despite our different sizes and coloring," Kory added, stroking the dress again (and absently petting Bart's head through the material). Sliding the shoulders free of the hanger she draped the dress lovingly over Bart, until a pair of extremely startled yellow eyes was peering at her from right where her cleavage was meant to go. "Look, it is even perfect for you! It sets off your eyes and the red in your hair!" Gar and Bart traded glances. (Reply to this) (Parent)(Thread)(Expand)

(no subject) - tsukikoushi, 2004-09-22 11:00 am UTC (Expand)

(no subject) - beeblebabe, 2004-09-22 12:50 pm UTC (Expand)

	hebiserpens 2004-09-21 09:46 pm UTC (link)
	Kain Highwind! (Reply to this) (Thread)

tsukikoushi 2004-09-22 09:10 am UTC (link)

RANDOMLY ARTSY AND HORRIBLE 4 U. Also, I seem to have a fetish for making Kain be naked all the time. I'm sure you're distraught. ===== He wakes in the twilight, naked and bandaged in a soft bed, and hears the dull throb of airship engines behind him. There is pain, yes, an immense dull creature studded with sharp teeth. Alive, then. He is surprised. He remembers the mountain bearing down on him, rushing at his widened eyes, too massive to be avoided, an enemy too implacable to be fought. He remembers the rock tearing his armor from him, breaking his bones, flensing the flesh from his chest in two great ripping tears like bright fire along his nerves. His fingers fly to his chest, stroke the bandages, draw biting pain from the wounds underneath--but his chest is still right, the muscles still the correct shape. Almost. His fingers trace out the shape of the pain that has been carved into his chest, deep furrows in the flesh, and he understands that the mountain has marked him, left a great 'X' carved across his chest for all to see. Kain is marked. Will always be marked. His arms are no longer broken, he realizes belatedly. He flexes under the covers: his legs are whole again. Rosa? Perhaps. But why on the airship, when they had left her behind in Baron... and then a sound, a faint exhalation of breath, comes from beside the window and Kain--always a warrior--is on his feet before it fades, bared shape of a golden man dressed only in white bandages that cover nothing. The pain-creature bites him and he sinks into a crouch, fingers digging into his bare thighs to help him keep the groan inside. Looks up. Sees Cecil. "He took the hand of the child who tried to kill you and left you alone to die," Cecil-not-Cecil says, his bluish-white hair too short, his face too square, a cruel avidity in his eyes that feasts on the sight of Kain, there on the floor. Kain, or his torment. One or the other, both. "I thought you should know." Something flares in Kain's mind. Something flares in Kain's body. The world flashes once and goes black. When he wakes, he will have been put back in the bed. And he will be alone. He is used to that. (Reply to this) (Parent)

	vincentursus 2004-09-21 09:53 pm UTC (link)
	Feel free to put this off until you're more familiar with Star Ocean: Until The End Of Time. Fayt Leingod attempts to recruit Sydeny Lostarot as an inventor. Wacky hijinks ensue. (Reply to this) (Thread)(Expand)

tsukikoushi 2004-09-22 08:45 pm UTC (link)

Generally I write all the ficbits in one fell non-stop swoop, and I then close requests and stop writing entirely. There's a chance I may be able to write your fic before I stop (I'll probably close requests around Saturday) but if I haven't gotten far enough in SO3 to write this fic by then, it probably won't get written. You're welcome to hope that I get far enough in the game by Saturday to produce this, or you can request something else. It's up to you. (Reply to this) (Parent)(Thread)(Expand)

(no subject) - vincentursus, 2004-09-23 03:52 pm UTC (Expand)

(no subject) - tsukikoushi, 2004-09-30 05:41 am UTC (Expand)

(no subject) - vincentursus, 2004-09-30 03:04 pm UTC (Expand)

sairobi 2004-09-21 09:55 pm UTC (link)

I'm feeling a little old skool. What about a little Suiko action? Any strategist will do, though I have a warm place in my heart for the brothers Silverburg from Suiko III. Whatever works for you! I leave this up to your writerly judgment. ^____^ (You should totally make this an annual event. We could all bring picnic lunches and watch the cherryblossoms the ficbits be pretty metaphors for the transience of life.) (Reply to this) (Thread)

tsukikoushi 2004-09-23 02:40 am UTC (link)

And I have a warm place in my heart for Apple, so let us both be happy! ===== "Aah--" Caesar swung his legs up, propping his feet up on his desk and leaning his chair back against the wall. "Apple, you said we could go to Toran after this." "I've said a lot of things," Apple said crisply, reshelving her Lesser Marlowe Guide with a definitive thump. "The truth of the matter is that it's not safe to travel through Jowston right now, so we'll have to postpone our trip indefinitely. Get your feet off the table." Caesar scowled lazy-eyed at the ceiling and swung his feet back down. "It's not safe to travel through Jowston right now if you're Zexen," he muttered, crossing his arms on the table and dropping his head onto them. "You're got Toranite papers and I've got Harmonian ones, what's the problem?" "The problem is that the Jowstonians are on full alert, and--as you ought to know by now--nervous men make mistakes." Apple flicked her finger along the long rows of books and plucked out deSalva's History of Aronia. Tartly she added "I'd prefer that neither of us be those mistakes. I've been given charge of you and I'd hate to have the blemish on my record." "Hah!" Caesar's eyes drifted closed. His mouth turned up at the corners. "So I can orchestrate a war against the Masked Bishop and my own dear brother but I can't move past a simple border crossing that may or may not turn sour? Albert would say your threat assessment skills are not in order." Apple said nothing, only thinned her lips and flicked through her book, waiting for him to drop it. A mistake; he was only Caesar but he was still a Silverberg. "Oh, wait, I get it." Caesar kicked his chair back again and planted his bootheels loudly on the desk, folding his hands behind his head. "It's because you don't want to go to Toran, isn't it? There's something in Toran that you want to avoid, so you're using Jowston as an excuse." Rolling his eyes up to stare at the ceiling, Caesar ticked his tongue idly off his front teeth. "And it has to be a person, since if it was just a place or a thing we could avoid it, since there are three known entrance routes into Toran. And he's probably a person of some resources, else you'd probably assume you could just avoid him--" "Caesar!" Apple slammed the History of Aronia to the table (then promptly scooped it back up again and clutched at it--copies of the book were rare these days, ever since the Harmonians had declared it a heresy). "That is enough! And get your feet off the table!" "Ho ho! Struck a nerve, have I?" This time, Caesar didn't move his feet. "So it is a person of some importance, is it? And you come from Toran, so it's probably someone you knew back then, when you were young--" Apple started to snap at him but Caesar quirked a lazy grin at her and just kept talking. "--so all I have to do to figure out who it is is to go read your published personal memoirs of the Gate Rune War and see who keeps popping up--" "Caesar!" "--mentioned in an ambivalent fashion--" "Caesar!" "--because if you just hated him you wouldn't be avoiding him, and if you liked him you wouldn't be avoiding him--" "Caesar Silverberg!" "--but since I've read your memoirs three times by now there's no need to go consult them again, and I can make an educated guess right now as to who you're avoiding. Would you like me to?" Caesar finished, closing his eyes with something like a flourish. Apple hesitated for a moment, then laid the History of Aronia back on the table. "I've changed my mind. We'll leave for Toran tomorrow morning." "Thought we might," Caesar said. (Reply to this) (Parent)(Thread)(Expand)

(no subject) - sairobi, 2004-09-24 12:19 am UTC (Expand)

	sjdr 2004-09-21 10:06 pm UTC (link)
	You know how even when it's not mpreg, stories about the kids of two male characters are almost always completely retarded and unfunny and aren't, well, Bitch? You know the two male characters I'm talking about (see: previous memes) AND YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DOING. (Reply to this) (Thread)

tsukikoushi 2004-09-23 03:10 am UTC (link)

UNATTRIBUTED CONVERSATION 4 U. ===== "... an e'Dahala." "Yes, an e'Dahala. It's an excellent opportunity for him. I don't see why you're being so stubborn about this." "No? Well, let's see. Suddenly your cousin cannot possibly be your heir because you're absolutely infuriated at her--again--" "She is the daughter of a Teckla and a piece of rotten meat, and has less honor than my left boot. It would be an insult to Blackwand to spit her upon it. Her soul would do nothing but tarnish the finish." "--yes, yes, thank you, I'm quite aware. As I was saying..." "Yes, as you were saying, do go on." "Thank you, I will. So since you don't have the time or the inclination to get married and beget an heir in the normal fashion, you've decided to adopt one..." "He's an adult already, so I wouldn't have to suffer through any of the actual raising of a literal child." "Point in this scheme's favor." "Indeed." "So, finally, the crowning glory of your scheme: you've picked an e'Dahala." "Please. Do explain your distaste. I hang on your words breathlessly." "Explain! Why, I think I have been doing nothing else for an hour!" "... all right, I deserved that." "You did." "So--Paarfiisms aside--what exactly is so wrong with the e'Dahala?" "Two words." "... funny, I thought I just said 'Paarfiisms aside'. Weren't you listening?" "Ah... heh. Point to you. But, still, two words: Fersen's Bridge." "..." "There isn't a Dragon in the House who doesn't remember Fersen's Bridge. The rest of the e'Drien must be spitting at the sound of your name by now." "Oh, quite. I have three duels on the morrow." "And so, bearing the remembrance of Fersen's Bridge in mind, you still think that adopting an e'Dahala boy is wise." "Oh yes." "Please explain this to me. I'm merely a Jhereg, I don't understand this sort of rarefied manuevering." "That was unworthy of you." "I am, of course, unworthy by definition. As are the e'Dahala and you know that." "There is only one problem with your argument." "And that is... what, exactly?" "I don't give a damn what they think." "Ah." "Ah?" "Quite." (Reply to this) (Parent)

	akatonbo 2004-09-21 10:38 pm UTC (link)
	Tatsumi and Watari. If you pair 'em, paired; if you don't, I will be quite happy to see whatever you think is more realistic. (Reply to this) (Thread)

tsukikoushi 2004-09-23 05:49 am UTC (link)

They're not one of my pairings, no, so instead you get Tatsumi at his, er, purest. ===== "Watari-san," Tatsumi said pleasantly, standing in the doorway, a file folder held loosely in both hands. He wore a little smile, and his eyes were calm behind his spectacles. Watari took one look at that pleasant little smile and immediately dove under his desk. "I'm not here!" "Ah? That's a pity." Tatsumi's voice was as mild as ever, even sounding slightly amused. Crouching in the kneehole of his desk, Watari cringed. "If, as you say, you aren't here, where are you? I have a few things of very slight importance I need to go over with you. When you have a moment, of course." "I don't know where I am. But I'm not here. Ask the Gushoushin, they'll tell you!" The elder Gushoushin jerked his head up from his computer screen, his feathers puffing out in panic. "Aaaa, Watari-san, that isn't fair! I don't want to get involved!" "Hsst! Tell him I'm not here!" "Ah... ah... ah..." The Gushoushin swallowed, his eyes enormous and terrified, and then he jerked up out of his chair to hover at Tatsumi's eye level. Pressing his palms together the Gushoushin bowed frantically over them. "I'm sorry, Tatsumi-san! Watari-san isn't here right now! I am very sorry to have put you to such trouble, to have you come all the way out here for nothing! If there is any way I can serve you, I shall do so! Please refrain from eating this humble chicken!" "Ah, I see." Tatsumi's little smile widened, just a bit, and he bowed formally to the elder Gushoushin over his file folder, his eyes closing. "In that case, please inform Watari-san that I would like to speak to him at his earliest convenience--" Tatsumi's head lifted again and his eyes slitted open, and for a moment, just a moment, there was fire in those faded blue eyes. "--and it is to be hoped that his earliest convenience is very soon indeed." Watari cringed back into the dust under his desk. The Gushoushin, meanwhile, squawked in terror and abruptly backpedaled a few feet in midair. "Ah... ah... ah... yes... I'll tell him! Thank you for coming by! I hope that it was not too much of an imposition!" The Gushoushin bowed frantically, again and again, his hands trembling in front of his chest. Tatsumi inclined his head again, straightened up with a precise little click of his heels, and vanished. The smile did not falter once. "Is he gone?" Watari hissed, not daring to stick his head out from under the desk. "Aaaaah..." The Gushoushin drifted slowly back down into his chair and more or less melted onto it. "He-he's gone, Watari-san..." And then he jerked back upright and whipped his chair around until he could glare at Watari, still lurking in the darkness under his desk. "What did you do?" (Reply to this) (Parent)(Thread)(Expand)

(no subject) - akatonbo, 2004-09-23 06:06 am UTC (Expand)

	bloodsin 2004-09-21 10:59 pm UTC (link)
	Umm...hello. You did say anyone could request, and I vaguely know of you from scans_daily (Impulse!) and a few friendsfriendsfriends lists. So...Impulse/Superboy/Robin! If Robin is snarky in the process, I will die of happiness. (Reply to this) (Thread)

tsukikoushi 2004-09-23 07:14 am UTC (link)

Absolutely anyone can request! And they are so flirtin'. ===== On one hand, getting into a snowball fight when you have tactile telekinesis was totally unfair to the other participants. On the other hand, Kon really enjoyed being totally unfair to his opponents. That meant he won! And his hair didn't even get messed up, which was, like, a double win. And really, it wasn't totally unfair to get into a snowball fight with a TTKer (WHOMP) when there was a speedster involved (whomp-whomp-whomp-whomp-whomp-whomp-whomp-whomp-whomp-whomp-whomp-whomp), and since Tim's aim was perfect, trained and deadly, and his snowballs hit with the force of rocks (whud!), it all worked out in the end. If only it wasn't so hard to hit Bart. They'd already gotten into one yelling fight over whether vibrating to let the snowball pass harmlessly through him was cheating or not, and Bart had pointed out that using TTK like a shield to deflect snowballs was also totally cheating, at which point Tim popped out from behind a tree and nailed them both while they weren't paying attention, and the argument was forgotten due to their extreme need to chase Tim down and rub snow into his hair. They couldn't find him, though--Tim was so good at not being seen that it was almost Pythonesque--and so they turned back to trying and failing to pummel the hell out of each other. And then Bart screeched to a halt a hundred feet away because he'd lost sight of Kon, and Kon saw his opportunity. Scooping up every bit of snow within ten feet he reached out through the ground to grab Bart's ankle with his TTK, and Bart yelped and tried to vibrate free but he was trapped, and Kon howled in triumph and launched half a ton of snow straight at Bart. Unfortunately, it wasn't until the missile was already airborne and beyond his reach that he saw the pair of kicking legs sticking out of it. The airborne avalanche exploded in Bart's face, throwing snow everywhere in a white haze, and Bart's shriek of dismay was cut off abruptly in the middle by a very loud and obvious THUD. "Oh crap!" Kon launched himself after the snowball, hovering nervously a few feet over the site of impact. "Tim! Bart! Uh... you guys okay?" Bart was sprawled out on his back, sunk deep into the snow, his eyes wide and rolled up into his head. Tim was curled up on top of him, hugging himself and gasping for breath. "Did anyone get the number of that truck?" Bart wheezed, twitching in random places. "I think it was packing heat..." "K-O-N-E-L," Tim said, narrowing an eye up at the sheepishly hovering Kon. "Low-rider. Underpowered engine in an oversized chassis. Really garish paintjob." "Hey, that was totally low!" Kon dropped back to the ground, kneeling by the pile of his buddies, and reached out to hover a hand uncertainly over Tim. "... no, really, you okay?" "I'm fine," Tim said irritably, at the same moment that Bart said, "I think my rib's broke!" Tim immediately threw himself off Bart. Bart blinked up at the sky for a moment, his form blurring slightly (and throwing little jets of snow everywhere), then said, "Okay, I'm better now!" Tim eyed Bart narrowly. Kon looked at Tim. Then it finally dawned on him, and Kon's eyes widened. He spluttered. "You were sneaking up on me!" "We were having a snowball fight, remember?" Tim shook the snow out of his hair. "Yes, I was sneaking up on you. So?" "So... so... um." Kon flopped out on his back in the snow. "I don't know. But you both totally deserved that, and I win." A pair of snowballs promptly exploded in Kon's face, and he bellowed, and by the time he managed to shake his eyes clear both of them were on him, and they fought and yelled in the snow until it had melted in a circle ten feet wide. (Reply to this) (Parent)

	whysperingwynd 2004-09-21 11:02 pm UTC (link)
	Ooh! Ooh! Gremio masturbating to picture of Hero (I called my main character Ezekiel for some reason) because he's oh-so sexy!... from Suikoden o__O;;; Wtf am I on tonight.. (Reply to this) (Thread)

tsukikoushi 2004-09-23 08:47 am UTC (link)

I have no idea. But you asked for it, you got it! (I did give him his quote-unquote 'official' name of Tir, though.) ===== It didn't even look like Tir. Gremio was, of course, too polite to mention it, and Tir seemed pleased enough, but... Tir didn't look like that, fierce and angry, with the muscles in his arms corded and his weapon forever held to ready behind him. Gremio was in it, too, but he didn't look like that either, and for some reason the Gremio in the mural was wielding daggers. Gremio was, of course, still too polite to mention it. Just as he was too polite to mention those fierce brown eyes that Ivanov had given Tir. He supposed that Ivanov was taking some license to make the mural look better, but... best not to say anything about it. Instead, he simply studied the mural and smiled and nodded and said all the polite things in the polite voice, and occasionally glanced at Tir, quiet and calm beside him. Always beside him, these days, and watching him closely when he thought Gremio wasn't watching. He still didn't quite understand what had happened, why Tir stuck so close to him these days, how Tir could have changed from the boy he was to this withdrawn young man seemingly overnight, but he remembered enough. He had been dead. Now he was not. And Tir had changed. A year, it had been, he was told. Tir still looked seventeen (and would apparently continue to look seventeen for years to come) but there was something about the new stillness of his body and the flat, dead stare of his eyes that made him look a thousand years old. A thousand years old and somehow beautiful, as if everything extraneous had been rubbed away to leave him polished and hard. His eyes hadn't held that look, before. Maybe Ivanov's version of Tir's eyes was also right, in the right situation. Gremio found that he didn't know, and it unsettled him, not knowing things about this young man beside him, so different from the chubby five-year-old he remembered, the ten-year-old yelling and laughing in the yard, the fifteen-year-old eating him out of house and home. He turned to study the fierce and resolute eyes on the mural in front of him, and then turned to study Tir beside him, and late that night when he curled in on himself in his bed, silently pushing his loose pants down to ruck up about his thighs, taking himself in hand, it was those hawk's eyes that he saw in his mind, watching him, seeming to demand something from him that he had never before thought of providing. He came under their imagined scrutiny, harder than usual, and shocks were still ripping along his spine when he forced his eyes open, staring at the blank stone wall. He didn't fall asleep again that night. (Reply to this) (Parent)(Thread)(Expand)

(no subject) - whysperingwynd, 2004-09-23 07:46 pm UTC (Expand)

	traffic_cone 2004-09-21 11:26 pm UTC (link)
	"Can you believe, boss, that Morrolan actually likes it this way?" Go on. Pander to my dirty little mind! (Reply to this) (Thread)

tsukikoushi 2004-09-24 02:47 am UTC (link)

PANDER PANDER + Kragar ===== "It's hard to believe that Morrolan actually likes it that way." I paused, then threw the blade I had in my hand, leaving it stuck quivering on the outer edge of the wagon wheel I had mounted on the wall of my office. "You're the second one to say that to me recently, Kragar." My assistant blinked. "Who else?" I nodded at Loiosh. Loiosh spread his wings and preened a bit. Kragar pursed his lips, then nodded to Loiosh. "And if my sources are right--" I tried not to show it, but inwardly I perked up. Kragar's network of informants was second to none. "--that isn't all he likes." Oh, Verra. I didn't want to hear this, did I? Given the little smirk on Kragar's face he knew I didn't want to hear it, so I sighed and said "Oh? What else does he like, Kragar?" He told me. At truly unnecessary length. I think he was enjoying himself. I'm proud to say I only blanched once. Some day soon, when I had a moment to spare, I was going to have to teach my assistant a thing or two about tact. Tact and never ever saying the words 'bloodplay' or 'self-exsanguination fetish' in my hearing again. "You look a bit green behind those whiskers," Kragar blandly noted. "Want me to get you another cup of klava?" "Yes, please, and try not to put any internal organs into it." I half-sat half-fell into my chair and rubbed my hand over my face. "How is it that it doesn't bother you, Kragar?" Kragar paused in the doorway, one hand on the doorframe, looking back at me over his shoulder. "He's a Dragon," my assistant said, as if that answered everything. "How does that--oh." When Kragar smiled, his eyes narrowed, and he looked every bit the Dragon he'd once been. "Be right back, boss," he said, and he flipped me a wave and disappeared. I touched my stomach, assuring myself that I still had all my internal organs in their correct places. (Reply to this) (Parent)

And how! quincunx 2004-09-21 11:58 pm UTC (link)

I don't know if you ever played Suikoden 3. If you have, some slash involving Barts in some way would be interesting. I always thought he was pretty interesting (and pretty pretty), and he seems to get overlooked becaues he's a non-combatant. I have no comments on the pairing nor can I think of a situation, so I'm not terribly helpful there. If you didn't play S3, can I suggest something different? (Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: And how! tsukikoushi 2004-09-24 04:07 am UTC (link)

I seem to be forcing people to read between the lines today, but boy, Barts slash. Mm. ===== "So I'm going," the twelve-year-old Percival said offhandedly, crouching down opposite Barts and watching his friend weed around the cabbages. "Tomorrow morning, early. I have to go before my da wakes." "Mm?" Barts said, stubby brown fingers digging into the dirt and tugging out a handful of dirty roots. "I'll be a squire of the Zexen Knights this time next week!" Percival puffed out his narrow chest. "All I have to do is show up and prove that I know how to use a sword, and I can do that." "Mm." Barts scrubbed the back of his wrist over his forehead and patted the dirt back around the cabbage. Percival scowled. "Also, you're a big ugly stupidhead and you're not listening to anything I'm saying, are you?" "Mm?" Percival dropped his head onto his upraised knees and sighed. "Look, I'm leaving tomorrow, I'd think you'd care." "Mm." Percival lifted his head just enough to study Barts, then reached out and flicked his finger hard against Barts' forehead. Barts yelped and jerked his head up, then grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, I was just thinking... it's going to be a good year for the tomatoes!" Barts sat on the ground and looked over his shoulder at the tomatoes, the first few already red and gleaming dustily in the sun. "My da says that tomatoes are like kids, says you can treat them any way you want and they'll still grow, but you have to treat them just right to make them grow up to be worth something." "You weren't li~sten~ing~," Percival half-sang. "I am now," Barts said, stung, and reached behind himself to pull a pair of tomatoes off the vine. He tossed one to Percival. "Here, lunch! So what were you saying?" Percival told him. Again. About halfway through Barts' eyes went all dull, but Percival, intent on his story, didn't notice. ===== The east was just barely beginning to gray over when Percival vaulted over the low fence that surrounded Iksay, a battered rucksack over his shoulder and his father's old army sword clumsily strapped to his hip. Two days' walk to Brass Castle if he hurried, three if he didn't, and he'd be there just in time for the yearly open recruitment... when the hand leaped out of the darkness and fastened on his sleeve he choked on his surprised yell and leaped away so fast that he ended up tumbling into a heap on the roadway. "Sorry," Barts whispered sheepishly, edging out from under the stablery's roof. "You scared me!" Percival hissed, scrambling back to his feet. "I said I was sorry," Barts hissed back, edging closer. "... so you're actually going?" "... no, of course not, whatever gave you that idea?" Belatedly Percival remembered that he was wearing a sword and dropped his hand to it meaningfully. "Of course I'm going!" "Oh. Well." Barts swallowed, then thrust something at Percival, a small sack. "I-I thought you'd maybe get hungry on the trip so I picked a few things..." "Ooh!" Percival clawed the top of the sack open and stuck his face into it. The fresh smell of ripe produce wafted out and he moaned a little. "Thanks, I managed to steal a little bread and cheese but I didn't think I had enough... you're the best, and I mean it. I'll... I'll write you from Brass, okay?" "Okay..." Barts scuffed his toe in the dirt, then reached out and awkwardly squeezed Percival's shoulder. "Um. Bye. Come back some time, okay, your parents won't stay mad forever..." Percival beamed and reached up to squeeze Barts' hand. "You bet I will! When I'm a full-fledged Knight of Zexen and they can't tell me what to do any more, I'll come back. Promise." For a moment they were both quiet, then Barts breathed out a little laugh and tugged his hand free. "Gonna hold you to that, skinny." "Not if I hold you to it first," Percival breathed, not caring that it didn't make any sense. "See you!" "Good luck!" Barts watched his friend race off down the dirt road. "... see you," he whispered, once Percival was well and truly gone, and then he turned to go back into town, because the corn needed thinning today, and it would be best to get started before the day got too hot. (Reply to this) (Parent)(Thread)(Expand)

Sorry for the delay in replying - quincunx, 2004-09-25 02:59 pm UTC (Expand)

	camel_pimp 2004-09-22 12:24 am UTC (link)
	Auron the pimp. (Reply to this) (Thread)

tsukikoushi 2004-09-24 04:53 am UTC (link)

There were three things it had never been safe to do around Jecht: turn your back, let your guard down, or fall asleep. No, actually, there were five things it had never been safe to do around Jecht: turn your back, let your guard down, fall asleep, assume anything, or predict his reaction. Seven things it had never been safe to do around Jecht: turn your back, let your guard down, fall asleep, assume anything, predict his reaction, have any faith in the human condition, or try to maintain any dignity at all. Nine things... Auron sighed and gave up trying to chronicle the list. Unfortunately, it was only the two of them trying to safeguard Spira's most--Auron privately admitted it--bubbleheaded summoner, and his responsibilities therefore required him to do unsafe things around Jecht every hour of every day. Falling asleep at dinner, though, that hadn't been anything except poor judgment on his part. Well, and exhaustion, certainly, but... poor judgment. He didn't know where the purple cape and the matching wide-brimmed hat had come from, and he refused to speculate on where the girls had come from, but they had to have come from somewhere. He'd seen the sphere on which Jecht had gleefully recorded the result, and he'd never hated Jecht quite so much as at that one single incandescent moment when Jecht had sniggered and shown it to him... but not a day later he had something else even worse to hate Jecht for, and he'd forgotten all about the incriminating sphere. Ten years later he found it prudent to knock a certain sphere off the edge of the Calm Lands before anyone else noticed it was there. (Reply to this) (Parent)

	marsdragon 2004-09-22 12:25 am UTC (link)
	Well...I'll ask for a Castlevania fic. Something about maybe Death and Dracula friends thing, maybe. I always thought that was funny. (Cross-pollination with Diskworld would be WAY COOL, by the way.) Failing that, random hottness. I'm not too paticular. (Reply to this) (Thread)

tsukikoushi 2004-09-24 05:49 am UTC (link)

Parody 4 u! ===== (SCENE: The interior of Dracula's castle. Which? It doesn't matter. J. RANDOM BELMONT is here, running around and posing and snapping the heads off zombies with his Terribly Important Whip With A Backstory and collecting the hearts that fall out of torches and generally having a wonderful time.) J. RANDOM: Have at thee! En garde! Avast! Woo hoo! Who's your daddy! (SCENE: Dracula's boxy little chambers at the center of the castle, which can only be approached by a really obnoxious series of corridors and/or puzzles. DRACULA is here, watching the turn of events on an ever-so-convenient crystal ball and scowling.) DRACULA: ... honestly, you cannot get good help any more. Boss fight! There was supposed to be a boss fight on that pixel! Where is Death? (The ZOMBIE in the corner groans a bit, which seems to serve him as a shrug. DRACULA scowls and pulls out a cellphone, jabbing out a shortcut with his thumb.) DRACULA (into phone): ... don't you dare send me to voice m... you sent me to voice mail. Death! Where are you? The latest Belmont is doing the hokey pokey on your assigned pixel! Our old friendship can only carry you so far! (DRACULA slaps his cellphone shut and turns his attention back to the crystal ball. J. RANDOM BELMONT is busting torches. DRACULA sighs again and turns to the ZOMBIE.) DRACULA: ... go tell the torch-replacement crew and the heart-replacement crew to head down to The Hall Of Unsurprisingly Gruesome Repute And Also Severed Heads And Stuff Booyah. ZOMBIE: braaaaaaaaains. DRACULA: Yes, you can go to lunch after that. Shoo. (The ZOMBIE shuffles off. DRACULA's attention is caught by a dark explosion in the crystal ball.) DRACULA: Death! Finally. Off polishing your scythe, were you? Caught you with your pants down? (DEATH engages J. RANDOM BELMONT in battle and eventually manages to remove all his armor and dump the BELMONT into the deepest dungeons, where he can run around and snap his whip at bats for the next twenty hours. That done, DEATH vanishes from the crystal ball and reappears in DRACULA's chambers. His 'face', such as it is, is set and remote. DRACULA doesn't even turn to face him.) DRACULA: Death! So good of you to join us. Dare I ask what took you so long? (An ominous presence seeps from DEATH's robes, chilling the air around them both.) DEATH: DO NOT QUESTION ME. I HAVE BUSINESS IN MANY PLACES AND WAS ATTENDING TO SOMETHING MUCH MORE IMPORTANT. ALSO, I HAD TO FINISH MY TEA. (DRACULA spins around, slowly, to face him.) DRACULA: I see. Well, tea, that's obviously important. But... you do remember your last performance evaluation, do you not? DEATH: I DO. I FAIL TO SEE-- DRACULA: When I told you that if you kept speaking to me in that tone of voice I'd have you sacked? Do I look Morporkian to you? DEATH: ... ah. Er. Sorry. Forgot myself. DRACULA: See that it doesn't happen again. DEATH: Right. I'll just, er, go wait for the Belmont up in the chapel, shall I? DRACULA: Yes, I think that's an excellent idea. And bring me back some of his blood, I'm famished and there's a double jump between me and the kitchens again. DEATH: Right! (Reply to this) (Parent)(Thread)(Expand)

(no subject) - marsdragon, 2004-09-26 01:30 am UTC (Expand)

	fluffyduck 2004-09-22 12:28 am UTC (link)
	Has Boyfriend played DMC yettttt? ;;;;;;_;;;;;; (Reply to this) (Thread)

	fluffyduck 2004-09-22 12:32 am UTC (link)
	What the hell am I thinking?! Samurai Warriors hotness, puriizu. The good ol' OT3 or Nobunaga/Azai would be fantastic~! (Reply to this) (Parent)(Thread)(Expand)

(no subject) - tsukikoushi, 2004-09-24 07:19 am UTC (Expand)

(no subject) - tsukikoushi, 2004-09-24 07:20 am UTC (Expand)

(no subject) - fluffyduck, 2004-09-24 11:59 am UTC (Expand)

(no subject) - zero_sum, 2004-09-25 03:37 pm UTC (Expand)

(no subject) - meteordust, 2004-09-30 03:59 pm UTC (Expand)

	neomeruru 2004-09-22 12:52 am UTC (link)
	Um, Turkfic. Preferably involving Elena. (BTW. I read Power Is. *waving little flag with '18' on it* Superb.) (Reply to this) (Thread)

tsukikoushi 2004-09-24 08:31 am UTC (link)

Well, then, have another discourse on power! (It's been about five years since I played the game, so I don't remember if Elena got much backstory in the game. I don't think so, but if I've contradicted canon thanks to my spotty memory, well, I'm a bad cow.) ===== She was six the first time she saw them. Six and straw-haired and thin, daughter of a barmaid and a day laborer, resident of the slums of Midgar, gone with her mother to work in the dark and dirty bar where she was employed. Elena earned a few gil by cleaning peanut shells from the floor and gathering empty bottles to be thrown in the trash. Occasionally her mother would let her keep one or two gil, if it had been a good night, and Elena kept her savings in a cigar box under her bed. She had almost forty gil. She intended to use this money to buy her mother and father a real house, in upper Midgar where the sun shone all the time. Some six-year-olds have dreams like these. But that night in the bar, crawling between the legs of patrons to pick peanut shells and bottlecaps off the floor, Elena got her first glimpse of how the world really works, the world in which you cannot buy a house for forty gil, no matter how painfully you had saved. The door to the bar crashed open and three men in dark blue suits came swaggering in, laughing and thumping each other companionably, and even Big Ben--bigger by half than any of them and twice as strong as any man alive, a brawler born--froze in his seat, a beer halfway to his lips. The world went silent. Elena crouched, hidden, under the table, and listened to those men in blue fill the silence. A man, they were seeking. A certain man, with a scar on his cheek and another on his throat beneath it, and red hair shot with gray. And while they were here, a beer for the Turks! If they had to wait, they might as well enjoy it, eh? Elena's mother served them in silence, and one of them laughed and patted her rear, and instead of breaking a bottle over his head as she would normally do, she just twitched away and fled. She knew who they were seeking, of course. Everyone here knew Ferren. And not one of them, not one brawler or tough man, tried to leave while the Turks sat drinking and laughing in their bar. Not one of them tried to warn Ferren. And when he came striding into the bar, unaware, no one moved a muscle to help him as the three men exploded away from the bar and bore him to the floor, beating him until he had the sense to lie still. And then they bound him. One of the Turks knelt over him, tightening the knots on his wrist, and then he looked up and saw Elena, under the table on hands and knees, all wide and frightened eyes. And he smiled at her and winked, so casual even here in the midst of slums-men who obviously despised them, and then they picked Ferren up and left, laughing amongst themselves, not bothering to pay for the beers they'd drunk. She was quiet all the way home, holding her mother's hand and listening to her mother curse the Turks under her breath, and (as some six-year-olds are more aware than they let on) noticing that her mother would fall fumingly silent whenever they got close enough to another person to be overheard. Elena did not sleep well that night, listening to her father snore on the other side of the curtain that separated their sleeping chamber from hers. The next morning she went and traded her forty gil for a cheap gun and a box of bullets. Down here in the slums of Midgar you learned early that power, electrical and otherwise, was what made the world turn. Elena had always liked blue. (Reply to this) (Parent)

	angrybabble 2004-09-22 12:54 am UTC (link)
	uh, have you played Skies of Arcadia? Something with Vyse x Aika 4-evar!111 and also, Lawrence. and Pow. (Reply to this) (Thread)

tsukikoushi 2004-09-26 03:24 am UTC (link)

I had to load up my SoA:L save to check a couple of things for this, and I watched the opening movie again, and it refreshed my conviction that Skies of Arcadia is THE BEST RPG EVER MADE. omg love. That being said, I stubbornly maintain that this is what you asked for. ===== "Ready, Pow? Fetch!" "Pow!" Aika whipped the stick sidearm out over Crescent Island's little lake. She lost sight of it in the darkness but Pow didn't, splashing into the lake and throwing water everywhere. A moment later he brought it back, both it and he dripping wet, and laid the stick at Aika's feet. Aika grinned and picked it up again. Behind her the tavern was roaring with activity, the lanterns making it smoky and overheated, but out here it was cool and quiet and the breeze had picked up. A few more minutes of this and she'd be ready to dive back into the noise of the tavern, go find Vyse again. Maybe there'd be a brawl later. Aika liked tavern brawls, as long as her side won. 'Her side' usually being herself and Vyse against all comers. "Pow!" said Pow at her feet, reminding her of what she was doing out here. "Fetch!" Aika cried, and whipped the stick out again, harder this time. A gust of wind caught it and flung it high on an arc, carrying it over the lake and up to where the flag was planted, and there was a faint thud of impact followed by a clearly carrying and grumpy "Ow." Aika clapped both hands to her mouth. "Uh oh." Pow hard on her heels she raced up along the curving trail to the flag. "Uh. Sorry! I wasn't aiming for you... I didn't even know you were here!" she finished brightly. Lawrence eyed her sourly from under the fall of his bangs, holding out the stick. After a moment Aika took it, and flashed Lawrence a grin that was only mildly embarrassed before whipping the stick out into the night, watching it arc lazily through empty space until, finally, it dropped beneath the clouds and was lost to sight. "So what are you doing out here?" she asked, leaning against the chest-high rock wall next to Lawrence and squinting outwards, trying to figure out what he'd been looking at. "Nothing." Lawrence didn't look at her, just continued to stare out at the empty sky. Aika, piqued, reached over and thumped his shoulder with the back of her hand. "Well, if you're not doing anything, why don't you come down to the tavern and have a drink with the rest of us? Gotta be lonely out here, right? C'mon!" He glanced at her again, eyes glittering under the messy fall of his hair, and didn't say anything for a long time. Finally, just when Aika had screwed up her mouth to say something snappish, Lawrence said, "...is that an offer?" "Is what an offer?" Aika blinked. "That." Lawrence finally turned to face her, leaning casually against the rock wall and crossing his arms over his chest. "Are you asking me to come have a drink... with you?" "Well, not if you're going to respond like that." Aika snorted and crossed her own arms, scowling. "Besides, it wasn't like that anyway." Her chin lifted defiantly. "I've already got someone." "Heh." Lawrence looked away, back over the island and at the rectangles of lantern light that shone out of the bar windows. The dim whoop of sound carried out to them both, crested with a clear and helpless laugh that could only be Vyse's. "Guess you do." He paused, considered her for a moment, then turned back to the wall. "No thanks. I'm not much for company." At their feet, Pow whined uncertainly. (Reply to this) (Parent)(Thread)(Expand)

(no subject) - angrybabble, 2004-09-26 03:29 am UTC (Expand)

	beeblebabe 2004-09-22 02:03 am UTC (link)
	Kon and/or Bart wank. ...but preferably Kon. You know how I am. (Reply to this) (Thread)

tsukikoushi 2004-09-26 06:46 am UTC (link)

I do indeed know how you are. Two comments' worth, because ONCE AGAIN I have managed to write a complete story under the guise of a simple ficbit. ===== It wasn't that Kon hadn't thought of it before, God knows it wasn't that, he'd been an adolescent for his entire life and teenagers think of things like that. Like, for a living. Hell, it wasn't like he hadn't tried it before. ... once or twice. ...okay, so a few times, and it worked just fine and all, but it didn't feel as good as just using his hands did. There wasn't any warmth to it, no give, just a simple steady room-temperature pressure, and there was no way that kind of sensation could compete with even a slicked-up hand. What jerking off with his TTK was good for, he eventually discovered, was doing it in public. Both hands on a magazine or flat out on the table or on the video game controller and still totally doing himself, didn't even need to undo his jeans--the TTK even kept the mess off his clothes until he could excuse himself and go clean up, and man, what could be better than that? After a couple of experiments he'd even done it while talking to Robin, and he'd come with only a twitch of his eyebrows and a grunt, and he'd managed to time it so it sounded like he was just agreeing with whatever it was that Tim had been saying (he didn't quite remember), and if Tim had noticed or sensed anything, he hadn't said as much. Hadn't even looked at Kon oddly. Well, more oddly than usual. He was a ninja. A ninja of jerking off. Masturbator-sensei. After a while it got to the point where he was doing it almost every day, getting cocky about it--pun ever so very much intended thank you--staring at one or another of his teammates just as he'd grunt and come and basking in the knowledge that no one had any clue at all what he was doing when he looked at them like that. "What?" they'd sometimes say, or in Bart's case "What, something on my face?" and Kon would just shrug and smile a bit and say "Nothing." and that would be that. (Reply to this) (Parent)(Thread)(Expand)

(no subject) - tsukikoushi, 2004-09-26 06:46 am UTC (Expand)

(no subject) - beeblebabe, 2004-09-26 06:54 am UTC (Expand)

	kafziel 2004-09-22 02:32 am UTC (link)
	Never sure how specific to get with these things ... maybe something involving both Gaiman's and Pratchett's versions of Death? (Reply to this) (Thread)(Expand)

	sefia 2004-09-22 02:34 am UTC (link)
	Oh, please, please throw in the Pratchet/Gaiman Death combo from Good Omens o_o (Reply to this) (Parent)(Thread)(Expand)

(no subject) - tsukikoushi, 2004-09-27 03:23 am UTC (Expand)

(no subject) - tsukikoushi, 2004-09-27 03:22 am UTC (Expand)

	cairea 2004-09-22 06:02 am UTC (link)
	I would greatly adore some Viktor and Flik-age, that I would. (Reply to this) (Thread)

tsukikoushi 2004-09-27 05:16 am UTC (link)

Always happy to oblige! ===== Viktor shrugged out of his heavy fur cloak and prodded experimentally at the large lump of furs and blankets on the bed. "You under there?" "No," the lump said. "Huh." Accepting this, Viktor kicked his snow-encrusted boots off to stand by the door, then pulled off his gloves and his heavy wool vest. "Funny, you'd think it was cold out there or something, way you carry on." "It is cold out there." The voice of the fur lump was muffled but clearly aggrieved. "It is cold beyond imagining out there, unless you happen to be a large half-shaved bear with too much alcohol in his system to notice." Viktor rumbled out a laugh and rubbed his palm over his half-frozen nose. "Shit, little southern pantywaist thinks that's cold... haven't even had any trees explode yet!" "... trees don't explode, Viktor." The voice sounded less than certain. Viktor grinned widely, baring all his teeth. "You know what? You tell me that again a month from now, once winter starts for real." A pine knot exploded in the fireplace and both Viktor and the lump twitched. "It's going to get colder than this?" The lump drew in on itself, becoming smaller. "You know what, Viktor, I don't think that I think very much of this town of yours." "Hey, s'okay, we don't think that much of you either. And, hey, if you're cold I can--" Viktor stopped dead and jerked his head back as three feet of steel shot out from under the pile of furs, its sharp tip pointed blindly but unerringly at his nose, so close that his eyes crossed as he tried to focus on it. "Oh, no," Flik said, letting no part of his body but his sword hand be exposed to the air. "Oh no. If you attempt to put your cold hands, your cold nose, your cold feet, or anything else that you happen to own that is cold on me, I swear by the length of my blade that I will remove that body part from you first before I dice you into chunks and have your hide tanned into another blanket." Viktor considered this for a moment, then dove neatly under the sword blade and grabbed Flik's wrist in one very cold hand. There was a scream of purest outrage, and he was bleeding profusely a moment later, but he squeezed hard and Flik's sword clattered to the floor and after that things went pretty much as they always did. And after that, when he grinned at Flik and asked if he was still cold, Flik just scowled bitterly at him and bandaged up Viktor's cut shoulder for him, warmth steaming from their skin. (Reply to this) (Parent)(Thread)(Expand)

(no subject) - cairea, 2004-09-29 04:12 pm UTC (Expand)

	itrasbiel 2004-09-22 06:16 am UTC (link)
	Chaco and zany antics, possibly involving explosions of varying sizes. (Reply to this) (Thread)

tsukikoushi 2004-09-27 06:45 am UTC (link)

SPLOSIONS ===== "Wow," Futch said dubiously, poking at the raised pattern in the palm of Chaco's hand. Chaco's fingers twitched, his little claws grabbing at Futch's fingers. "Is that a real Fire rune?" "Of course it's real!" Chaco said, yanking his hand away and clutching it jealously to his chest. "I stole it fair and square." "Yeah? Who'd you steal it from, then?" "Not telling." "Bet you didn't steal it," Futch said triumphantly. "Bet it's not even a real Rune." "It is so!" Stung, Chaco lanced one wing out and smacked Futch on the shoulder with it. "It is so a real Rune and I'll prove it." "Oh yeah? Dare you to. Bet you can't." "You're on!" Chaco leapt from Futch's bed to the windowsill, perching there, his clawed toes clutching at the sill. "Meet you at the training grounds, slowpoke." And pausing only to flip Futch a terribly obscene Winger gesture (it meant, loosely, 'may you contract an STD so awful your wings rot off') Chaco dove out the window, Futch's affronted cry following him as he went. ===== The training yard was nearly empty, except for a couple of Blue Knights in one corner stolidly working through a few hundred rounds of shield drills. Chaco landed on the hard-packed earth with a little skitter of claws and waited impatiently, his wings flaring out around him, his hands fisted on his hips. He didn't have to wait long before Futch burst out of the castle, his boots unlaced and his hair still mussed. "Had to put my boots on," Futch gasped, pulling to a halt in front of Chaco. "Okay, so prove it already." "I will, stupid human." Chaco turned around, sighting on one of the deep-sunk battered and burnt wooden posts on the opposite side of the field. He screwed his face up in concentration and then, dramatically, flung his right hand up over his head. Nothing happened. Well, nothing happened except Futch waited a beat and then snickered, not bothering to hide it. Chaco's scowl could have peeled the bark off a tree. "Shut up," he hissed. "Make me," Futch said, now laughing openly. "Go ahead, roast me with your Fire rune, I deserve it!" "Shut up!" Chaco yelled, and then, when he was too angry to speak, it was as if something grabbed his right hand and dragged it up over his head, and fire exploded outwards in all directions as the rune shimmered into existence in the air over him. Flaming arrows pelted the courtyard in all directions, leaving little charred black spots burnt in the earth. The two Blue Knights yelled a warning and threw up their shields, deflecting a handful of the missiles, and Futch instinctly dove for the one spot on the field that was safe, dropping to his knees at Chaco's feet and clinging to Chaco's legs. "Make it stop!" Futch screamed, trying to be heard over the roar of the fire. "I believe you, okay, so make it stop!" "I caaaaaaan't!" Chaco screamed back, screwing his eyes shut and cringing away from his hand, stuck so high in the air that he seemed to almost be dangling from it. His wings were pulled as tight against his body as he could manage. Fire splattered everywhere and the two Knights had abandoned the field to them, and any second now someone was going to come out and see what he was doing... The rune flickered and faded, and three last flaming arrows pocked the earth around them. For a moment they were both still, Futch huddling on his knees and clinging to Chaco's legs, Chaco trembling and frozen in a crazy parody of a rune-salute. Eventually they both tentatively cracked their eyes open to survey the damage. The earth of the courtyard was pitted and blackened by the fiery impacts in a circle twenty feet all around them, with only the tiny space in the center that just barely contained them both. Chaco was panting. Futch swallowed. "You are going to get in so much trouble," Futch breathed, and he threw himself backwards and to his feet, nearly losing an unlaced boot in the process. "You are going to get in so much trouble!" he screamed over his shoulder as he fled back into the castle, and after a moment Chaco squawked in equal fear and bolted into the air, heading in the other direction just seconds before the two Blue Knights could return with help. (Reply to this) (Parent)

	randomly! rondaview 2004-09-22 06:36 am UTC (link)
	gaara/naruto. or neji/naruto. your pick. :D (Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: randomly! tsukikoushi 2004-09-27 07:13 am UTC (link)

I'll just leave the rest of it up to your imagination. ===== No one got that close to Neji without his express approval, and more to the point, his cooperation. No one. And Naruto may have been bleeding and his left arm was dangling uselessly at his side, but he was still right up in Neji's face, growling and panting and pinning Neji's left hand with his right. Useless. That was useless, and worse than useless, it was stupid. He still had his right hand free, and so he put down his teacup and cut the air between them with his fingers, and a moment later Naruto's right hand turned heavy and dead, like meat. His fingers slithered out of Neji's and his hand fell, smacking Neji heavily but uselessly on the shoulder before it too fell to his side, and still Naruto was right there in his face, arms both dead at his sides but a snarl on his face like he was too stupid to know he was dead. "Go away," Neji said evenly, picking up his teacup in both hands. He could feel Naruto's breath hot and angry on his cheek, but he ignored it, casting his light eyes down to study the depths of his tea. "This proves nothing." "Nejiiiiii," Naruto growled, a crazy light in his eyes, and somehow despite all of the chakra that Neji had sealed the fingers of his right hand twitched spasmodically, and when Neji looked up, startled, Naruto lunged forward and bit down on Neji's lower lip as hard as he could. (Reply to this) (Parent)

	velithya 2004-09-22 08:50 am UTC (link)
	Something Saiyuki with Hakkai. Bonus points for including Gojyo. (Reply to this) (Thread)

tsukikoushi 2004-09-27 08:21 am UTC (link)

Man, I love Saiyuuki, but it's hard. ===== They'd parked Jeep by the river's edge a good hour before sunset (and eaten as soon as they could hop out, because Goku had absolutely insisted that he was going to turn inside out if he got much hungrier). Now, with half an hour of sunlight left, Hakkai sat crosslegged in the shallows of the river, his headband and monocle on a flat rock behind him, and emptied a tin of water over his head. Behind him he could hear Goku whining about something and, a moment later, the flat slap of Sanzo's fan against monkey skull, and a moment after that a short snort of laughter from Gojyo, followed by the ratcheting click of Gojyo's lighter. Gojyo's, not Sanzo's. They were both sounds Hakkai knew in his heart, little sounds he'd heard a thousand times, unimportant but as clearly different as their two owners. Hakkai combed his hair forward over his eyes and groped blindly behind him, picking up the scissors. And there, that was the sound of Sanzo's lighter, and now he could just barely smell the smoke, and right on cue Goku made a loud choking sound and there were four, five irregularly-spaced monkey footfalls on the grass as Goku pretended to stagger. He paused a moment to look down at the river water pooled and still in the cross of his legs. His wet hair hung lank and straight over his eyes, almost to the tip of his nose, and behind the curtain his left eye was calm and his right eye was half-closed, drooping shut after the long day. He studied his half-hidden face for a moment, then brought up the scissors and trimmed his bangs straight across, so that when wet they were just long enough to touch his cheekbones and hide his eyes. Behind him all was more or less quiet, but he had the sense of Goku sitting off to his right, and Sanzo leaning against Jeep's hood smoking, and Gojyo flopped out in the grass by Jeep's front tire doing the same. It was funny how the smoke smelled different, even though the cigarettes were the same brand. Smoke changed when it had someone's breath in it, apparently. Carefully, he combed his hair down over his right ear and trimmed it short, then did the left, with even more care. The slender silver blade slid under one of the golden cuffs there and he ceased to breathe until he slid the blade free, and he checked his limiter afterwards with fingers that did not quite tremble. And then he finished trimming his hair up over his left ear and washed the scissors in the river. The air against his left side went heavy and full of smoke, humming with presence, but it was only absently that he noticed it, busy combing his wet fingers through his hair. "Oi," Gojyo said from behind him, crouching on the bank behind Hakkai. Hakkai jumped and laughed a small embarrassed laugh. "Aah--" His fingers fluttered down to his bare chest and from there to the small upraised island of his thigh, on which the scissors were balanced. "I thought I asked you not to sneak up on me like that." "Want me to get the back for you?" Gojyo offered instead of responding, staring off across the river, his cigarette hanging forgotten from his mouth. There was a pause, smoke-scented and oddly comfortable, and then Gojyo brought his hand up and took a deep drag on his cigarette, closing his eyes. "If you wouldn't mind." Hakkai finally said, turning the scissors and holding the handles out towards Gojyo. "It would certainly make things easier on me!" Gojyo took the scissors with a grunt and shifted around to crouch behind Hakkai, and the coal of his cigarette was a warm spot on the back of Hakkai's neck against the cold of the scissors. (Reply to this) (Parent)(Thread)(Expand)

(no subject) - velithya, 2004-09-27 10:56 am UTC (Expand)

	drmoonpants 2004-09-22 12:58 pm UTC (link)
	I have a cold and bad mood swings. I want, nay, deserve something perilously cute. It doesn't matter who. I was thinking Jake and Matthew, but really, it doesn't. (Reply to this) (Thread)

tsukikoushi 2004-09-27 08:44 am UTC (link)

I have had this in my head for days. I hope that it is sufficiently cute for your purposes. ===== When Jake let himself into Matthew's cluttered little cave of a room bearing his surprise, it was a little before four in the afternoon, and the sun was just beginning to go down. Matthew was curled up asleep in an angry little ball, arms thrown protectively over his head, occasionally talking and snorting in his sleep ("... zzz banana motherfucker zzz..."). "Wake up," Jake suggested, sitting on Matthew's stomach. "Whoof ugh motherfucker get off me what the fuck I'm trying to fucking sleep!" Matthew choked out all in one whooping breath, suddenly and wildly awake, his hands crashing uselessly against Jake's hip. He coughed several times until Jake took a sort of idle pity on him and swung his other leg up onto the bed, casually straddling Matthew's bony hips instead. Matthew whooped in a deep ragged breath and subsided, more or less. "Fuck do you want, wolfman? Too fucking early for this shit..." "Brought you breakfast in bed," Jake said, displaying his present. "'Cause I'm such a nice guy and all." Matthew eyed Jake's burden before cutting his eyes back at Jake. "It's a box of motherfucking Cheerios. Nice fucking breakfast, dry cereal. You want a fucking medal or something?" "Nope," Jake said cheerfully, popping the top of the box open and stuffing his paw in, coming out with it positively dripping with Cheerios. "I want you to quit bitching and eat your fucking breakfast. Open wide." "Fuck you!" And with that Matthew clamped his mouth shut and crossed his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes. Jake sighed and shrugged, then put the box down and punched Matthew hard in the gut. Matthew's mouth popped open and his startled breath whooped out of him, and before he could close his mouth against Jake again Jake stuffed his handful of Cheerios into Matthew's face. Chipmunk-cheeked and red-faced Matthew spluttered madly, trying to clear his airway, sending Cheerios flying to decorate his face, his bare chest, the pillow around his head, the wall, Jake's knees... Jake grabbed Matthew's jaw and pushed it shut--more or less shut--and just as cheerfully said, "Eat your goddamn breakfast." "'uk 'oo!" Matthew yelped breathlessly--but he did, eventually, subside and chew and swallow, not having much choice, and then Jake entertained himself by plucking stray Cheerios off Matthew and Matthew's bed with his claws and stuffing them into Matthew's mouth. Until Matthew bit him one too many times and called him a 'motherfucking mama robin what the fuck gonna feed me worms next?', anyway, which obviously called for another handful of Cheerios. And maybe worms tomorrow, if Jake could find some. (Reply to this) (Parent)

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