Title: The Science of Scent
Fandom: Shaman King
Genre: Angst, romance
Pairings: Faust/Eliza...FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE.
Warnings: Implied necrophilia, but not the kind I usually do. Possible spoilers about what Faust's goal in the series.
He sleeps, Eliza's skeleton beneath him.
She still feels right there, the smooth white edges of her pelvis pressing against his hips, her skull cool against his cheek, the chain connecting them wrapped around their bodies (like ribbons around the bouquets he'd leave by her bedside, back when she was sick and rotting, but alive), parody of procreation that they are.
Eliza's remains, they still smell of grave-soil and maggots, of the mahogany and velvet-lining in her coffin. Faust makes them smell of sweat and sweet perfume, the way his Eliza used to smell, the way she'll smell again, soon.
Title: Coping Mechanisms
Fandom: Shaman King
Pairings: None; Faust-centric (okay, slight Faust/Eliza hints)
Warnings: A look at Faust's morphine addiction, so, drug use. Slight gore. Slight spoilers for the Yoh/Faust fight.
Eliza doesn't know about the morphine.
What's in the flask at his hip, she thinks it's whiskey.
Eliza, she doesn't know about the constant drip into his arm when she's not there ("It is always on tap," he jokes, but it's the truth; morphine is the only constant in his brief life-experiment). She doesn't know that Faust tips his head back and breathes slow (common side effect, he thinks: resperitory depression). It stops those constant lurking pains, and he cannot complain.
She doesn't know about the morphine, even in death, and she watches him rip the bones out of his leg without flinching.
Fandom: Silent Hill 4
Pairings: None. Henry-centric.
Warnings: Gore. Some spoilers for the apartment hauntings.
Henry tries to ignore what's happening, sometimes.
But it's hard when he steps into the shower, naked, every brown hair standing straight, and the showerhead sprays bright blood that smells like a slaughterhouse and stains him like paint.
It's hard to ignore it when he opens the refridgerator and finds half of a cat's corpse, wrapped in blue jeans, and even though its eyes are gouged out and its tongue's cut off, it meows when he reaches for the spoiled milk.
So it's best to face things, Henry decides, tucking the handgun into the waistband of his jeans and crawling through the hole.
Title: Telephone Psychics with Fake Accents
Fandom: House of Leaves
Pairings: None. Johnny-centric.
Warnings: None; however, there's an homage to Silent Hill 2 in there, and whoever finds it first wins a request drabble.
Zampano left cans of lightbulbs in his turned-off refridgerators, acting as bookends for the pale-covered tomes, thousands of pages of words crossed out with blue ink.
Zampano, he left phone numbers on napkins, scrawled in the spidery script of someone who's lost control of sight and nerves long ago. Johnny tries them, every one, the hotel's scratched rotary phone on his lap, one bloody shaking hand holding the headset to his ear.
The numbers are dead ends like everything else in the chest, automatic answering machines that cut off before the beep; telephone psychics with fake accents; phonesex hotlines with prematurely-wasted operators.
Title: Shred of Dignity
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts 2
Pairings: Implied Seifer/Hayner.
Warnings: None. :D
Requested by: pedosaurus. Prompt: "sexual tension".
They don't ask about Hayner's black eye. They just know--unspoken connection between close friends. And anyway, the wounds, the fights, they're common by now.
Olette, she presses a sea-salt icecream to the bruise, and whispers, "Hayner, why do you and Seifer always have to fight? Can't you guys leave each other alone sometimes?"
"He's starts it! He just can't keep his hands off me! It's always, poke this, punch that, kick this!"
"Why don'tcha fight back?" Roxas asks around the stick pressed flat to his tongue, grinning. "That's what you're always telling us to do."
"Yeah, well. It'd...you know, ruin the mo--my diplomatic manliness."
Fandom: Death Note
Warnings: Spoilers for...~70+? Spoilers for Mikami, basically. Also, allusions to butchers.
Requested by: taskemus. Prompt: "method".
Every day, it goes like this:
Mikami opens the door. He lays down his briefcase, takes off his coat, doesn't loosen his tie. It is calm and he is calculated, every movement deliberate and smooth. He sits at the table and watches the news. He writes names in the death note as they come up on screen, praying beneath his breath. Mikami, he does this with the same unconscious accuracy butchers have when chopping up carcasses. You cut this, and it's that, you cut this next, and it sells more, and it's right. They aren't all that different.
And it is only when he opens the door and sees his god standing there, smiling, that the movements lose their grace and the method is dropped.
Title: A Leg Up
Genre: Romance, fluff
Warnings: Nothing, just cute.
Requested by: momusu.
Ten-chan buys her a rose from the nicest florist in town.
It's a fragile, red thing, like her and the ribbons she ties her hair back with (neat and composed, but the black escapes its bounds and lays feather-like against the back of her neck). He leaves it in her locker at work, on top of the neatly-ironed black uniform.
Kotarou doesn't give her roses, but he does, and maybe that'll mean something.
She comes in the afternoon, the rose blooming from the pocket of her apron, and Shia, she thanks him and smiles, and maybe he's got something up on his friend.
Title: Disposable Cameras
Fandom: Death Note
Warnings: Law-breakage. Spoilers for post-58.
Requested by: ruriruri. Prompt: "window".
A year after Mello leaves the orphanage, Matt steals a car and drives, throwing Mello's high-grades (but not high enough) out the window, watching them rip in the wind, end up tire-tracked on the road.
Child-scrawled letters end up turning to pulp in standing water, and Matt keeps on driving, wiping his eyes beneath his goggles and drinking beer he found in the back seat.
They'd learned to drive, together. They'd hot-wired faculty cars and driven the back roads, hair blowing out the window, hands on top of each other on the gearshift.
But that, that's a photograph out the window too, now.
Genre: Um. Mediocrity?
Warnings: Set around chapter 7. Oh man, this drabble sucks so bad. I'm sorry!
Requested by: uninformed. Prompt: "unlikely".
Chad starts frequenting the clinic after the parakeet comes along. Scratches and scrapes and broken fingers, and he's becoming a regular customer.
"Damn, Chad," Ichigo mutters, leaning against the wall and watching Yuzu set Chad's broken wrist. "You've gotta stop doing this to yourself, man."
"Sorry, Strawberry, but I can't help that I'm real clumsy." Chad, he presses a finger to the bridge of his broad nose, almost contemplatively.
"That bird. It seems like bad luck."
"What?! That's highly unlikely. Birds can't be bad luck," and Yuzu wraps the bandages tighter.
Ichigo shrugs and hits Chad on the back, lightly. "Whatever. Just, y'know, be careful."
Genre: Total fluff.
Requested by: wing_of_grey.
"The shirts," Chad offers sheepishly, by way of explanation, holding the shredded garment up in one large hand, blushing. "They rip real easy."
Ishida pushes up his glasses, looking expectant.
"And I was wondering, if...since you know how to sew...if you could..."
"You'd like me to repair your shirt?"
It's almost surprising when Ishida smiles (it's small, but it's there), and takes the shredded Hawaiian shirt. "Even Kon's never looked like quite this bad. I'll see what I can do."
He gives the shirt back to Chad in homeroom the next day. Perfectly repaired, stitches almost invisible, a quincy cross emblazoned across the back.
Title: Physical Limits
Fandom: Shaman King
Rating: Hard PG-13
Genre: Dark, angst
Pairings: Taocest (Tao Jun/Tao Ren) <--the world needs more of this
Warnings: Tao En's physical abuse, dubcon, implied smut, incest
He lets his sister see him in his moments of weakness, hides nothing when they're alone, but won't let her touch his back. The tattoo burns and stands out stark black against his skin, prickles and sting when she lays her long-nailed fingers across it, tracing the curve of the yin-yang and the flames.
Ren guides her shaking hands to his hips, drags her fingers over his chest and stomach, presses her palms to the cuts and bruises.
Jun breathes hard, says, "Lian, you can't let him do this to you," but lets him slip her hands under his waistband anyway.
You know, if you ever want to make me really happy? Um. Gimme some Taocest smut, and I will absolutely love you forever and heap gift!fic upon you.