LJ's evil so I'm posting all the Valentine drabbles here!
First of all, many a thousand thanks to mlleelizabeth for the candy hearts, and to daemonsadvocate for the flowers. Liz, if you want a drabble, all you have to do is ask. ♥ And now onto to the drabbles that I promised. I might do the secondary requests later, but I just wanted to get these up first to make sure everyone had something for them on V-Day.
For shantih:
~*~
Stephen capped the last vial and held it up to the light, examining it carefully. Yes, it would do.
Tying a ribbon around it, he deposited in the basket along with the other vials, and then gave it to a house-elf with instructions to deliver them to River. If she liked BPAL scents, Stephen reasoned she should love even more a line of perfume oils especially formulated for her skin and personality. Or so Ryuuji had claimed when Stephen had explained their latest argument over the twenty-fifth (or possibly thirty-first, Stephen had lost count a while back) shot of ECR.
Minutes later, Stephen could hear the rapid patter of River's feet as she ran through the corridors and burst through the doorway, flinging herself into his arms joyously. She smelt like metal and the southern spring wind and had just a hint of something darker, more inviting, that balanced out the clean metal scent and fresh spring overtones. River, Stephen had called it, and it was only the first in the set.
River was too complicated to ever be represented by only one thing, be it a scent or a color or a word.
For ryuutchi:
~*~
One plus two is three. Two's company, three's a crowd. Three is Trowa, who is silent and takes away three from four, who is Quatre and cheerful. So it's not one plus two, it's two minus one. Heero takes away from Duo, and together, they still equal one. Positive.
Relena doesn't have a number. Heero can't take anything from her. With her, he's a negative, reversed fortunes, soldier without a war.
Opposites might attract, but they also cancel each other out, and neither Heero or Relena can accept a zero. When Heero leaves Relena for Duo, she tells herself she's not surprised. She'd always known that Heero would.
It's just simple arithmetic, after all.
For abrandnewboom, whose Xmas card I just received today!:
~*~
Roses wilted. Chocolates got eaten. Clothing was presumptuous and he liked Quatre's clothes anyway. Therefore, ever the practical one, Trowa had decided to get Quatre a pair of UV-blocking sunglasses as a make-up gift.
"Here." He held the box out to Quatre, who took it with the sad, bravely suffering face that he'd been wearing ever since his last fight with Trowa. Trowa hated the bravely suffering face. Even Duo's puppy-dog eyes were easier to stand.
Quatre opened the box carefully, peeling the paper off without tearing it, and peeked inside the box. Curiously, lifting them out, he asked Trowa, "Sunglasses?"
"You live in a desert. They have UV protection." Trowa explained. He paused for a second, "I don't want your eyes to get hurt."
Quatre smiled brilliantly at the show of protectiveness on Trowa's part and put them on. Trowa took that to signify that everything was fine between them again and was pleased with himself.
Once he realized that they covered up Quatre's beautiful eyes and he could no longer see them, he felt considerably less happy.
For witchwillow, who is hopefully better and enjoying her new computer:
~*~
"Tomorrow's Valentine's Day." Clark explained to his friend seriously, clutching a flower stalk in his little hand, "So I'm going to get Mom a BIG bouquet of flowers!" He tugged it as hard as he could, and ended up uprooting a clump of earth along with the flower. "...Oops."
Rion laughed quietly, and reached out to pinch the base of the flower. The earth dropped away, and Rion smiled shyly at the other boy, "Can I help? I know the meanings of flowers."
"Flowers have meanings?" Clark asked with big eyes. He'd just been going to get his mother anything that looked pretty!
With a nod, Rion pointed at one of the flowers, "Crocus is abuse not. And daisies are innocence. Ferns are fascination and four-leaf-clovers," He stooped for a second and picked one out of the grass with a flourish, straw-blond hair falling over his eyes as he did so, then offered it to Clark, "Mean 'be mine', but they're also symbols of good luck."
"Oh." Clark took the four-leaf clover and tucked it into his pocket without really thinking about it, looking at the older boy with absolute trust, "What would I get Mom if I want to give her a bouquet without all the romantic things?"
Rion thought it over a little, biting down on his knuckles reflectively, "Daisies. Apple blossoms for good fortune. Dandelions for happiness. And wheat for remembrance." They were all flowers that the two boys could find on their own without having to go into town to buy anything and Rion kind of liked the idea of spending the afternoon out in the fields with Clark before he had to go back to the mansion.
"Okay!" Clark agreed easily, and the two of them spent the next hour collecting enough flowers for a bouquet. They looked a little odd when they were all gathered together, but they made a nice, big, colorful bouquet and Clark was sure his mother would love it. As they began to trudge back to the house, Clark stopped and picked a sunflower, What do sunflowers stand for?"
"Follows the sun as it grows, adoration and haughtiness." Rion replied readily, stopping in the street.
Clark nodded and reached up to carefully tuck the flower into the pocket of the shirt that he'd lent Rion, "Here. For you. Adoration."
His smile was as sweet as sunshine, and even as Rion reached out to touch Clark's mind lightly enough to make him forget the past couple of hours, Rion touched the flower springing so gaudily from his pocket. He'd take it home and keep it, and Clark could keep the four-leaf clover too. Maybe it'd bring him luck.
Edit: Eeeeek! Just got the notification of the giftie from nekokilala as well. *huggles* Thank you so much, doll. *writes you a quick Seto/Ryuuji drabble based on the anti-fairy-tale universe*
For nekokilala: ~*~
At the funeral, Ryuuji stands next to Seto. The coffin is lowered into the ground in silence, and Ryuuji doesn't take Seto's hand. Seto would refuse anything that made it look like he needed help, even though it's only the two of them and the grave digger there. Seto hadn't wanted a priest there; Ryuuji had read out the eulogy instead.
"Mokuba..." The name was spoken so quietly that Ryuuji thought he'd imagined it for a moment but when he looked over, Seto's fists were clenched so tightly that it looked like he was trying to make himself bleed.
Ryuuji knew all about ritual self-flagellation.
"Hey," He said quietly, under his breath, "I'm still here."
Seto turned and looked at him, eyes oddly disfocused, "Yes. You are."
So many disasters start with good intentions.
...Okay, that ended up shorter than I meant it to. Right. You get two! Here's another Seto/Ryuuji bit, set in the same universe.
~*~
"This," Ryuuji explained grandly to Seto, "Is X. Refined form of ecstasy, cut with just a little diamond meth."
Sprawled out naked on the bed, his hand shook just a little as he flipped the switchblade open and pressed the sharp tip against Seto's hipbone. "You cut yourself, scatter it on the wound, then cut your tongue and lick it off your blood." His smile was sharper than the blade. "Except I'm going to cut you instead. You bleed prettily."
Seto watched him with hooded eyes. His pretence of indifference was nearly perfect, the boy not twitching even a bit as a shallow X was scored into his skin. "Am I supposed to feel complimented?"
"People will kill to have me call them pretty." Ryuuji answered, eyes glittering as he carefully rolled up a yen bill into a tube and started to pour the powder down through it.
"Your mindless fangirls might, but they don't count as people." Seto retorted. The powder stung a little, but he'd need to be hurt a thousand times worse before his pride would let him show any sign of pain.
Ryuuji smirked at that, a neat white X of powder on Seto's hip now, the blood tainting it just a little pink. "Arrogant much, Seto? Funny, you didn't seem anywhere near as stuck up when I--"
"Just get it over with." Seto interrupted him. He watched the edges of Ryuuji's mouth quirk in amusement, and waited until Ryuuji had lowered his mouth to lap at the powder before twisting his body as sharply to the side as he could, considering the way he was tied down to the bed. The powder spilled off his skin, tiny grains disappearing amongst the sheets, and Seto had the satisfaction of hearing Ryuuji snarl, eyes dark with real anger for a change, "You uncooperative bastard!"
Seto freed himself from the last of the knots, having been working on them while Ryuuji was distracted with his preparations, and swung his feet over the side of the bed to get up. "Kill yourself if you want, but I'm not going to help you. I've got better things than watch you self-destruct."
The sound of the knife stabbing into the mattress echoed the slamming of the door.
For shantih:
~*~
Stephen capped the last vial and held it up to the light, examining it carefully. Yes, it would do.
Tying a ribbon around it, he deposited in the basket along with the other vials, and then gave it to a house-elf with instructions to deliver them to River. If she liked BPAL scents, Stephen reasoned she should love even more a line of perfume oils especially formulated for her skin and personality. Or so Ryuuji had claimed when Stephen had explained their latest argument over the twenty-fifth (or possibly thirty-first, Stephen had lost count a while back) shot of ECR.
Minutes later, Stephen could hear the rapid patter of River's feet as she ran through the corridors and burst through the doorway, flinging herself into his arms joyously. She smelt like metal and the southern spring wind and had just a hint of something darker, more inviting, that balanced out the clean metal scent and fresh spring overtones. River, Stephen had called it, and it was only the first in the set.
River was too complicated to ever be represented by only one thing, be it a scent or a color or a word.
For ryuutchi:
~*~
One plus two is three. Two's company, three's a crowd. Three is Trowa, who is silent and takes away three from four, who is Quatre and cheerful. So it's not one plus two, it's two minus one. Heero takes away from Duo, and together, they still equal one. Positive.
Relena doesn't have a number. Heero can't take anything from her. With her, he's a negative, reversed fortunes, soldier without a war.
Opposites might attract, but they also cancel each other out, and neither Heero or Relena can accept a zero. When Heero leaves Relena for Duo, she tells herself she's not surprised. She'd always known that Heero would.
It's just simple arithmetic, after all.
For abrandnewboom, whose Xmas card I just received today!:
~*~
Roses wilted. Chocolates got eaten. Clothing was presumptuous and he liked Quatre's clothes anyway. Therefore, ever the practical one, Trowa had decided to get Quatre a pair of UV-blocking sunglasses as a make-up gift.
"Here." He held the box out to Quatre, who took it with the sad, bravely suffering face that he'd been wearing ever since his last fight with Trowa. Trowa hated the bravely suffering face. Even Duo's puppy-dog eyes were easier to stand.
Quatre opened the box carefully, peeling the paper off without tearing it, and peeked inside the box. Curiously, lifting them out, he asked Trowa, "Sunglasses?"
"You live in a desert. They have UV protection." Trowa explained. He paused for a second, "I don't want your eyes to get hurt."
Quatre smiled brilliantly at the show of protectiveness on Trowa's part and put them on. Trowa took that to signify that everything was fine between them again and was pleased with himself.
Once he realized that they covered up Quatre's beautiful eyes and he could no longer see them, he felt considerably less happy.
For witchwillow, who is hopefully better and enjoying her new computer:
~*~
"Tomorrow's Valentine's Day." Clark explained to his friend seriously, clutching a flower stalk in his little hand, "So I'm going to get Mom a BIG bouquet of flowers!" He tugged it as hard as he could, and ended up uprooting a clump of earth along with the flower. "...Oops."
Rion laughed quietly, and reached out to pinch the base of the flower. The earth dropped away, and Rion smiled shyly at the other boy, "Can I help? I know the meanings of flowers."
"Flowers have meanings?" Clark asked with big eyes. He'd just been going to get his mother anything that looked pretty!
With a nod, Rion pointed at one of the flowers, "Crocus is abuse not. And daisies are innocence. Ferns are fascination and four-leaf-clovers," He stooped for a second and picked one out of the grass with a flourish, straw-blond hair falling over his eyes as he did so, then offered it to Clark, "Mean 'be mine', but they're also symbols of good luck."
"Oh." Clark took the four-leaf clover and tucked it into his pocket without really thinking about it, looking at the older boy with absolute trust, "What would I get Mom if I want to give her a bouquet without all the romantic things?"
Rion thought it over a little, biting down on his knuckles reflectively, "Daisies. Apple blossoms for good fortune. Dandelions for happiness. And wheat for remembrance." They were all flowers that the two boys could find on their own without having to go into town to buy anything and Rion kind of liked the idea of spending the afternoon out in the fields with Clark before he had to go back to the mansion.
"Okay!" Clark agreed easily, and the two of them spent the next hour collecting enough flowers for a bouquet. They looked a little odd when they were all gathered together, but they made a nice, big, colorful bouquet and Clark was sure his mother would love it. As they began to trudge back to the house, Clark stopped and picked a sunflower, What do sunflowers stand for?"
"Follows the sun as it grows, adoration and haughtiness." Rion replied readily, stopping in the street.
Clark nodded and reached up to carefully tuck the flower into the pocket of the shirt that he'd lent Rion, "Here. For you. Adoration."
His smile was as sweet as sunshine, and even as Rion reached out to touch Clark's mind lightly enough to make him forget the past couple of hours, Rion touched the flower springing so gaudily from his pocket. He'd take it home and keep it, and Clark could keep the four-leaf clover too. Maybe it'd bring him luck.
Edit: Eeeeek! Just got the notification of the giftie from nekokilala as well. *huggles* Thank you so much, doll. *writes you a quick Seto/Ryuuji drabble based on the anti-fairy-tale universe*
For nekokilala: ~*~
At the funeral, Ryuuji stands next to Seto. The coffin is lowered into the ground in silence, and Ryuuji doesn't take Seto's hand. Seto would refuse anything that made it look like he needed help, even though it's only the two of them and the grave digger there. Seto hadn't wanted a priest there; Ryuuji had read out the eulogy instead.
"Mokuba..." The name was spoken so quietly that Ryuuji thought he'd imagined it for a moment but when he looked over, Seto's fists were clenched so tightly that it looked like he was trying to make himself bleed.
Ryuuji knew all about ritual self-flagellation.
"Hey," He said quietly, under his breath, "I'm still here."
Seto turned and looked at him, eyes oddly disfocused, "Yes. You are."
So many disasters start with good intentions.
...Okay, that ended up shorter than I meant it to. Right. You get two! Here's another Seto/Ryuuji bit, set in the same universe.
~*~
"This," Ryuuji explained grandly to Seto, "Is X. Refined form of ecstasy, cut with just a little diamond meth."
Sprawled out naked on the bed, his hand shook just a little as he flipped the switchblade open and pressed the sharp tip against Seto's hipbone. "You cut yourself, scatter it on the wound, then cut your tongue and lick it off your blood." His smile was sharper than the blade. "Except I'm going to cut you instead. You bleed prettily."
Seto watched him with hooded eyes. His pretence of indifference was nearly perfect, the boy not twitching even a bit as a shallow X was scored into his skin. "Am I supposed to feel complimented?"
"People will kill to have me call them pretty." Ryuuji answered, eyes glittering as he carefully rolled up a yen bill into a tube and started to pour the powder down through it.
"Your mindless fangirls might, but they don't count as people." Seto retorted. The powder stung a little, but he'd need to be hurt a thousand times worse before his pride would let him show any sign of pain.
Ryuuji smirked at that, a neat white X of powder on Seto's hip now, the blood tainting it just a little pink. "Arrogant much, Seto? Funny, you didn't seem anywhere near as stuck up when I--"
"Just get it over with." Seto interrupted him. He watched the edges of Ryuuji's mouth quirk in amusement, and waited until Ryuuji had lowered his mouth to lap at the powder before twisting his body as sharply to the side as he could, considering the way he was tied down to the bed. The powder spilled off his skin, tiny grains disappearing amongst the sheets, and Seto had the satisfaction of hearing Ryuuji snarl, eyes dark with real anger for a change, "You uncooperative bastard!"
Seto freed himself from the last of the knots, having been working on them while Ryuuji was distracted with his preparations, and swung his feet over the side of the bed to get up. "Kill yourself if you want, but I'm not going to help you. I've got better things than watch you self-destruct."
The sound of the knife stabbing into the mattress echoed the slamming of the door.