I Bring you Fanfiction and Randomness
Lemme just tell you guys something.
When I get Super Smash Borthers Brawl, you won't hear from me that much, if at all. Seriously.
I'll be gllued to the TV for days. I might call school and say I'm ...sick >_>
AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT:
THE PETER PARKER SEXY DANCE IS MADE OF WIN :D
Okay. Now that that's out of my system...
I present a fic.
I lost my stupid iPod meme on my flash drive, so I salvaged what I could from my brain from the first song since I actually liked what I wrote. It's a...69!8027 fic [yep, a Possessed Yama] oneshot that was set to the song "Miranda the Ghost Just Isn't Holy Anymore: A. Vade Mecum" by The Mars Volta, so enjoy!!
Title: Miranda the Ghost Just Isn't Holy Anymore
Writer: Meeee :)
Pairing: 69!8027
Rating: PG...PG13, it's not bloody enough.
Summary: Yamamoto convinces Tsuna to get some fresh air and Tsuna meets an unexpected visitor.
Warning: Spoiler for Future Arc, be careful.
What Tsuna and Yamamoto were feeling is known as “cabin fever” in the West. Tsuna, because he was having miniature panic attacks for the whole time they’ve been stuck in this dire future, and Yamamoto because he is a man of sports, not a man of science, and needed to stretch his legs out and run a few blocks or so. But Reborn didn’t care how suffocated they were and forbid them from taking a breath of fresh air.
“You’ll get attacked by some Millefiore goons and either of you dying isn’t going to solve anything.” the baby said callously. Which was fine with Tsuna, but now he was just trying to figure out why the hell he was outside in the freezing cold, unsupervised with Yamamoto.
“Don’t worry Tsuna, nothing’s going to get us this early in the night!” the enthusiastic athlete said, “but it’ll be a little harder to stretch out here. If we run a few blocks do you think you can keep up with me?”
“Are you crazy?!” Tsuna yelped. “I-I think it’d be better if we stayed in one place.”
Takeshi understood his apprehensions and stayed by the door to the underground base and practiced running stretches and calf-raises.
“Hey…Yamamoto?” the sheepish Tsuna asked.
“Yeah?” he replied while diligently stretching his arms.
“Do you think Chrome is going to survive?”
“I don’t see why she wouldn’t. She seems strong enough to get through it all.” Tsuna was stupefied by the taller boy’s optimism when she’s practically on her deathbed and she doesn’t really have organs. She is basically an empty bag and Yamamoto believes everything is going to be okay. “Mukuro is going to be okay too,” he continued “he doesn’t seem like someone who would die like that.”
Tsuna looked up to Yamamoto’s eyes and smiled. “It’s nice to hear that from you, Yamamo-” He stopped and got a closer look at the boy’s left eye. The moon illuminated the fact that it was a brighter color than his right golden-brown eye and was lit red like fire. Tsuna felt himself stepping back a few feet once he saw the kanji etched into his pupil.
The once Yamamoto began to laugh as Tsuna stopped breathing. The laugh was haunting; it wasn’t the trademark “kufufu” but Yamamoto’s same warm and comforting laugh that he couldn’t stand hearing come out of his possessed body. That was not Takeshi and now he was trapped with the last person he’d want to be cornered by.
“It’s sure a nice night, isn’t it young Vongola?” Mukuro purred.
“Mukuro…” Tsuna said, barely acknowledging his presence.
“It’s nice to know you’re so concerned with little Chrome.”
“How long have you possessed him?”
“Or are you actually more concerned with me?”
“Answer my question!”
“Well I was going to tell you I’m okay, but you’re not really in the mood for that, are you?”
The frustrated Tsuna furrowed his brow and asked another question. “Were you able to find out much about Byakuran?”
“More or less, but the location of his base was the only really useful piece of information. He’s pretty sharp to figure out I was Leonard Lippi though.” Mukuro glanced at Tsuna, who refused to make eye contact with the Mist Guardian and his hands were shaking rapidly. Sighing, he added “He’s been able to hear us before Reborn told you not to leave the base.” Tsuna responded with a look of relief.
“It’s very interesting to hear his thought process as I’ve possessed him, really. He keeps wondering if he’s dreaming and what he’s going to have for breakfast tomorrow morning. Is he always this airheaded?”
He saw the young mafia boss smile at the mention of the swordsman’s thought [or lack of thought] pattern. The little upward curve at the corner of his mouth only pointed out the obvious to Mukuro.
“Stand up,” the Mist commanded. Tsuna peeked up, confused. “I said stand up!” Tsuna took the order more seriously and stood up quickly and locked his knees, making his head spin. The mist guardian proceeded to slam his body against the wall behind them and pinned his wrists to the cold rock. With his free hand, Mukuro took Tsuna’s trembling lips into a rough kiss, over and over again, biting his lower lip, little rivers of red flowing down his cheeks. He backed away from the younger boy for a few seconds, taking in the image of the blood and tears streaming down his face, shaking, and the terrified, hushed voice calling out a name.
It wasn’t his.
Being enthralled in his own selfish desires, Mukuro failed to realize possessing that body wasn’t going to solve his problems. He let go of his wrists and the boy slumped to the ground and tried to regroup.
“Don’t worry,” Mukuro said facing the moonlit and solemn sky. “In the future, you’re still not mine anyway.”
The red from Yamamoto’s eye faded, and he fell to the ground from exhaustion. From what he could feel Tsuna was screaming his name and shaking his arm and he was crying, Mukuro made him cry and all he could do was sit there in the back of his own mind.
But Tsuna had called his name, and that meant everything in the world to him.
PS: My friend drew a picture for this fic as the kiriban I won...go tell her how pretty it is!!
When I get Super Smash Borthers Brawl, you won't hear from me that much, if at all. Seriously.
I'll be gllued to the TV for days. I might call school and say I'm ...sick >_>
AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT:
THE PETER PARKER SEXY DANCE IS MADE OF WIN :D
Okay. Now that that's out of my system...
I present a fic.
I lost my stupid iPod meme on my flash drive, so I salvaged what I could from my brain from the first song since I actually liked what I wrote. It's a...69!8027 fic [yep, a Possessed Yama] oneshot that was set to the song "Miranda the Ghost Just Isn't Holy Anymore: A. Vade Mecum" by The Mars Volta, so enjoy!!
Title: Miranda the Ghost Just Isn't Holy Anymore
Writer: Meeee :)
Pairing: 69!8027
Rating: PG...PG13, it's not bloody enough.
Summary: Yamamoto convinces Tsuna to get some fresh air and Tsuna meets an unexpected visitor.
Warning: Spoiler for Future Arc, be careful.
What Tsuna and Yamamoto were feeling is known as “cabin fever” in the West. Tsuna, because he was having miniature panic attacks for the whole time they’ve been stuck in this dire future, and Yamamoto because he is a man of sports, not a man of science, and needed to stretch his legs out and run a few blocks or so. But Reborn didn’t care how suffocated they were and forbid them from taking a breath of fresh air.
“You’ll get attacked by some Millefiore goons and either of you dying isn’t going to solve anything.” the baby said callously. Which was fine with Tsuna, but now he was just trying to figure out why the hell he was outside in the freezing cold, unsupervised with Yamamoto.
“Don’t worry Tsuna, nothing’s going to get us this early in the night!” the enthusiastic athlete said, “but it’ll be a little harder to stretch out here. If we run a few blocks do you think you can keep up with me?”
“Are you crazy?!” Tsuna yelped. “I-I think it’d be better if we stayed in one place.”
Takeshi understood his apprehensions and stayed by the door to the underground base and practiced running stretches and calf-raises.
“Hey…Yamamoto?” the sheepish Tsuna asked.
“Yeah?” he replied while diligently stretching his arms.
“Do you think Chrome is going to survive?”
“I don’t see why she wouldn’t. She seems strong enough to get through it all.” Tsuna was stupefied by the taller boy’s optimism when she’s practically on her deathbed and she doesn’t really have organs. She is basically an empty bag and Yamamoto believes everything is going to be okay. “Mukuro is going to be okay too,” he continued “he doesn’t seem like someone who would die like that.”
Tsuna looked up to Yamamoto’s eyes and smiled. “It’s nice to hear that from you, Yamamo-” He stopped and got a closer look at the boy’s left eye. The moon illuminated the fact that it was a brighter color than his right golden-brown eye and was lit red like fire. Tsuna felt himself stepping back a few feet once he saw the kanji etched into his pupil.
The once Yamamoto began to laugh as Tsuna stopped breathing. The laugh was haunting; it wasn’t the trademark “kufufu” but Yamamoto’s same warm and comforting laugh that he couldn’t stand hearing come out of his possessed body. That was not Takeshi and now he was trapped with the last person he’d want to be cornered by.
“It’s sure a nice night, isn’t it young Vongola?” Mukuro purred.
“Mukuro…” Tsuna said, barely acknowledging his presence.
“It’s nice to know you’re so concerned with little Chrome.”
“How long have you possessed him?”
“Or are you actually more concerned with me?”
“Answer my question!”
“Well I was going to tell you I’m okay, but you’re not really in the mood for that, are you?”
The frustrated Tsuna furrowed his brow and asked another question. “Were you able to find out much about Byakuran?”
“More or less, but the location of his base was the only really useful piece of information. He’s pretty sharp to figure out I was Leonard Lippi though.” Mukuro glanced at Tsuna, who refused to make eye contact with the Mist Guardian and his hands were shaking rapidly. Sighing, he added “He’s been able to hear us before Reborn told you not to leave the base.” Tsuna responded with a look of relief.
“It’s very interesting to hear his thought process as I’ve possessed him, really. He keeps wondering if he’s dreaming and what he’s going to have for breakfast tomorrow morning. Is he always this airheaded?”
He saw the young mafia boss smile at the mention of the swordsman’s thought [or lack of thought] pattern. The little upward curve at the corner of his mouth only pointed out the obvious to Mukuro.
“Stand up,” the Mist commanded. Tsuna peeked up, confused. “I said stand up!” Tsuna took the order more seriously and stood up quickly and locked his knees, making his head spin. The mist guardian proceeded to slam his body against the wall behind them and pinned his wrists to the cold rock. With his free hand, Mukuro took Tsuna’s trembling lips into a rough kiss, over and over again, biting his lower lip, little rivers of red flowing down his cheeks. He backed away from the younger boy for a few seconds, taking in the image of the blood and tears streaming down his face, shaking, and the terrified, hushed voice calling out a name.
It wasn’t his.
Being enthralled in his own selfish desires, Mukuro failed to realize possessing that body wasn’t going to solve his problems. He let go of his wrists and the boy slumped to the ground and tried to regroup.
“Don’t worry,” Mukuro said facing the moonlit and solemn sky. “In the future, you’re still not mine anyway.”
The red from Yamamoto’s eye faded, and he fell to the ground from exhaustion. From what he could feel Tsuna was screaming his name and shaking his arm and he was crying, Mukuro made him cry and all he could do was sit there in the back of his own mind.
But Tsuna had called his name, and that meant everything in the world to him.
PS: My friend drew a picture for this fic as the kiriban I won...go tell her how pretty it is!!