fanfic entries because it's what I do
Title: Strange Dreams
Fandom: Speed Racer
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Gregory "Speed" Racer x Darius Evans (OFC)
Warnings: some language, yaoi, disturbing thoughts
Disclaimer: I do not own Speed Racer and I do not profit from the writing of this story.
Summary: In the early morning hours, between that wonderful state of wakefulness and sleep, he dreams the strangest of things.
Mornings were not always his favourite part of the day. Depending on what had taken place the night before - Darius could be quite inventive at times and passionate every single time - often determined how Speed greeted the day. If Darius kept him up for most of the night, and he had done such a thing the previous night, then Speed disliked it when the sun shone through the blinds and into his eyes. It was a rather annoying way to be awakened, and Speed exhaled a soft breath. He tried to move but it was not an easy feat with Darius draped across his chest.
After a few moments, Speed exhaled softly again, giving up in his struggle to climb out of bed. The more he moved, the more Darius tightened his grip and pulled him closer. The only good thing about that was the sun no longer shone on his face, and Speed still felt exhausted. He was not ready to start his day just yet, and he closed his eyes in hopes of gaining at least another half hour of sleep.
As he drifted in that in between state of wakefulness and sleep, Speed half-imagined, half-dreamt he was walking through a densely wooded area. The trees reminded him of the northern part of Michigan, more specifically the woods behind the cottage he and Darius stayed at when they visited his dads, but he saw no signs of human population. In his hands he held a sculpture of some kind. It felt like a dragon to his hands, but he could not see anything except for the trees and the green of the grass. Then, in the strange way dreams tended to work, the trees started to thin and Speed started to climb upwards. The ground morphed under his feet as he walked, but what he was walking towards, he did not know. He only knew he was on a journey of some kind and something awaited him at the end.
In the middle of this dream, the scenery shifted, and he was no longer in the woods. Rather, he was aboard a spaceship and now running for his life. The dragon statuette had vanished from his hands, but he could not think of why he was running until he heard a loud, high-pitched shriek. Whatever caused that sound was the reason for his flight and his panic, and his heart plummeted when he heard it, fear blossiming within him. Somewhere in the middle of the chaos, he heard the Byrds singing, "To everything, turn, turn, turn" . . .
Speed opened his eyes when his dream started to change thoughts again, and he stared at the wall opposite him for several moments. He was not in the woods or on a spaceship running for his life, but in his bed, the sheets and blankets at his hips. Except for him, the bed was empty, and Speed heard "Turn, Turn, Turn" by the Byrds playing. He had just started to sit up when Darius appeared in the doorway to their bedroom. His hazel eyes sparkled with mischief, love,and a hint of irritation.
"You woke me up early," he said in an accusing tone. "I kept having strange dreams after you did, too. But I still love you."
"Oh, how generous of you," Speed replied with a bit of sarcasm. "You're the one who didn't let me fall asleep until three in the morning! Yet you still love me. I feel so honoured." He then exhaled and rubbed at his eyes, a yawn escaping scant seconds later. "What did you dream about?"
"That a unicorn was chasing me on the racetrack," Darius answered as he climbed back into their bed. "It wanted to ram its horn up my ass. The scary thing was I was in my car and it was catching up to me. What about you? Did you have any strange dreams this morning?"
"Yeah . . . you could say that . . ."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No . . ." Speed shook his head. "I don't. It isn't like it'll come true or anything."
"You had the Alien dream again, didn't you?"
"I think so," Speed said with a sigh. "It didn't start out that way, though."
"I don't think any dream starts out to be weird or strange," Darius murmured. His arms were sliding around Speed's waist. "Just like I don't expect to dream of some monstrous unicorn chasing me so it shove its horn up my ass."
Speed could not refrain from laughing at that. The unicorn chasing him was a recurring weird dream for Darius, and he often teased his lover for what it could possibly mean in their waking hours. However, he only carried the teasing so far. The idea of a mythical creature like a unicorn wanting to kill someone as loving and as caring as Darius, despite his narcissistic ways, was, in reality, far more disturbing than creatures bleeding acid wanting to kill whatever crossed their paths. At least Speed knew the creatures from the Alien movies were evil. Unicorns were not portrayed in such ways.
"Don't even say it," Darius growled, pinning Speed to the bed. He moved quickly, too, not giving the still groggy racer a chance to escape. "Don't even think it for a moment."
"Or what?" Speed teased, smiling. "You'll deprive me of sex for a week? You've already tried that. You won't last that long."
"Oooooh, touche'," Darius murmured, smiling. "You know me quite well, it would seem. Perhaps then a distraction from those thoughts is in order."
Their lips touched together in a searing kiss, and their dreams were forgotten. Then again, Speed did not mind. Strange dreams were just that: strange dreams, and they were meant to be forgotten in the morning hours with kisses and a warm body to distract him. Perhaps he and Darius would one day still those dreams, but Speed doubted such a thing would ever occur. Dreams were dreams, and there was nothing anyone could do to change them.
Title: Sparkling
Fandom: Gravitation
Pairing: Tohma Seguchi x Shuichi Shindou
Rating: PG13
Warnings: male/male relationship, yaoi
Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation and I do not profit from the writing of this story.
Summary: He liked to sparkle . . . but not in the way people thought.
There were some who thought they saw a resemblance between Ryuichi Sakuma and Shuichi Shindou. Indeed, many were correct in believing the two were very much alike. Both men were beyond exceptional singers. They could woo a crowd the moment they opened their mouths to sing and for them to sing together . . . well, the night would be memorable for all in attendance. Ryuichi called it being sparkly. Tohma felt inclined to agree with him, but, with Shuichi, it was something more. The younger singer did not simply sparkle and shine. He blazed like the sun.
But then Tohma knew Shuichi, and he knew Shuichi very well. The singer had long since dropped his flamboyant flair outside of photo shoots and tours and adopted a quieter approach to life. It was in the quiet of their home that Shuichi really liked to sparkle and shine. The performances for him and him alone were nothing like the public shows. If any and every fan of Bad Luck could see what Tohma saw when he and his young lover were by themselves, they would envy the N-G president and envy him with a great passion. Not everyone could see Shuichi sparkle in such a beautiful and undeniably sexual way. Not everyone could experience a vocal performance so strong and so profound that it could move heaven, hell, and earth.
That was how Tohma liked it. That would be the way things stayed until the day both he and Shuichi died.
Title: Wheel in the Sky
Fandom: Wheel of Time
Pairing: Rand al'Thor x Elayne Trakand
Rating: PG13
Warnings: potential spoilers
Disclaimer: I do not own The Wheel of Time series and I do not profit from the writing of this story.
Summer: The Wheel of Time weaves as it wills, but no one expected anything like this.
Storm winds ripped and howled through the Aiel Waste. The skies overhead were dark with clouds, but no one paid much attention to the what appeared to be impending rain. The winds were devastating the lands, ripping what little vegetation there was from the ground, roots and all in the cases of the trees. Animals were now in shelters but even those were threatened by the strength of the gusts.
Rand stared out at the havoc the winds were creating across the land, knowing the Aiel Waste was not alone in the craziness of the weather. With the Aes Sedai at war with each other and the Seanchan adding their troubles into the mix, it was a wonder the weather was not even crazier than it currently was. All lands were engulfed in the raging winds and the lightning racing across the sky sparked fears of fires should it hit the ground. He felt more than thankful that he had talked Taim and Logain from leading the Asha'man into this fray between the Aes Sedai. It was none of their business how the White Tower worked its problems out. Instead, they were dealing with the Seanchan. It could not be a pretty picture. He remembered what his army of Asha'man had done to the Shaido. It was not a pretty picture, and one he hoped would never repeat itself.
From a corner of his mind, he could feel Alanna trying to gut on their bond, but it was nothing more than a slight nuisance. He had long since learned how to reverse a Warder's bond, and it soon became a lesson to other Aes Sedai about bonding a man who could channel.
As he allowed his thoughts to wander, if only for the briefest of moments, Rand thought he saw something rather unusual in the sky. He frowned at first, blinking then he leaned forward. For a second or so, amidst the black clouds and arcs of lightning, of all things, a wheel appeared. Well, it was not so much of a wheel, but a circular patch of blue. With the sun glowing a bright gold, it very nearly resembled a wheel. The rays were much like threads weaving a pattern.
Then the patch of blue and sunny gold were gone, enveloped by the maelstrom as if it had never happened in the first place. For Rand, it was a sign things were about to change, a sign of hope. He just did not know when or how.
'Light, let it be soon.'
He continued to watch the furies of the winds.
Title: Before the Climb
Fandom: Speed Racer
Pairing: Gregory "Speed" Racer x Darius Evans (OFC)
Rating: PG13
Warnings: guy/guy pairings, stuff like that.
Disclaimer: I do not own Speed Racer and I do not profit from the writing of this story. I own Darius, though, whether he likes it or not. mwahahaha.
Summary: Darius does some thinking and wondering.
There had been a time when Speed had hit rock bottom. Darius knew this. He knew the many reasons for that downward spiral that often took people years to descend. For his lover, it had taken less than two years, almost the same amount of time it took him to rise to fame and success. That had been before they met, before Speed, who Darius preferred to call by his birth name, Greg, started to resume his climb back towards the top.
Currently, there was no climb for either of them. Racing season was over until February, and the two were enjoying a little down time. With Greg still in a dream, Darius took the time to think and to wonder.
What had Greg's life truly been like before he started racing, before that climb to the top? He knew how loving the Racer family had been and still was. Pancakes or French toast for breakfast on Sunday mornings, days spent at the track, had there truly been happiness in their lives? In his life? As a child, Greg had everything Darius did not: a mother and two brothers whom he adored and whom adored him. It was not say he did not have a mother or any other siblings. His mother had left him with his father when he was six weeks old, taking an older half-brother with her to New York City. Why she had left him behind, Darius did not know and could not understand. He only knew where she lived because of his dad and stepdad. They had encouraged him to find her, to ask her why she had left - her leaving had taken his father by surprise as well - but Darius had never approached her. Seeing she had married someone else and adored her oldest son left Darius feeling nauseated.
However, it no longer mattered to him, not with Greg and his family in his life. His mother and his half-brother were before his climb out of the pits of despair and into something far greater and more meaningful than he could have ever imagined. For all of his wishing for his biological mother in his life, Darius discovered another who loved him as much as she loved her sons, a woman who, after many, many months, finally accepted his role in her son's life and accepted him for who and what he was.
That was before his climb, and now Darius possessed so much more worth fighting to keep. He smiled as he gazed at his sleeping companion then nestled under the blankets wit him. Today, they could rest for a little while longer. They could forget about their worries and their fears, and just enjoy the moment, each other, and the strange little family they had forged together. Tomorrow was another day.
Title: A Battered Teapot
Fandom: Immortal Rain
Characters: Rain
Rating: PG13
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: I do not own Immortal Rain and I do not profit from the writing of this story.
Summary: A conversation over tea.
"Why do you keep this thing?"
Rain looked up from pouring his cup of tea, and he blinked. The inquiry from his companion caught him at unawares. He was not used to her speaking. If she did, it was to give some type of demand or command to him, things he never listened to anyway, but that was how things were. He was not used to traveling with people, not since the Doctor and she passed away.
"What thing?" he asked, placing the teapot back over the fire. It had seen better days, the teapot, and it was really no longer needed. Times changed, as they often did, and people rarely built fires to cook food anymore. They used machines called replicators to prepare their meals, and it saddened Rain. Cooking was becoming a lost art, in his opinion. Of course, he still built a fire to cook his food. No matter how many years went by, he would always be a wanted man. The cross seared into his flesh promised as much. He heard a slight huff of exasperation.
"That thing you just put down!" she exclaimed. "Why do you keep it? It's so beat up and . . . and . . . useless!"
For a moment, Rain stared at the old, battered teapot, sadness filling his heart. It was one thing people did not understand anymore. Things no longer held any kind of value unless it could sold as quickly as possible. Everything could be replaced, and that was just how things were. Rain smiled, if only a little, and broken-heartedly at that. She would never understand. It was just how things were.
"It belonged to a friend," he murmured. "A friend who died a long time ago."
"Long before I was born?" she asked.
"Yes," Rain replied. "Long before you were born. Long before your grandparents were born."
"And you miss him. Just like you miss everyone you've ever lost," she said. Rain glanced at her and saw the sympathy on her face. Perhaps she understood after all.
"Yes. I miss him. I miss all of them."
She moved from her usual perch to sit next to him. One scrawny arm wrapped around his shoulders, and her head rested against him. She was not the one he was looking for in this life, but she was a companion nonetheless. She kept him sane when he thought he would lose all control over himself and end his life (if it were possible), and she managed to ease his sadness, though he never told her such things.
"I wish there was a way you could be with them again, Rain," she said. "I really do."
"I will be with them again some day," Rain answered. "For now, though, I'll enjoy what I have."
"A battered old teapot, a scythe, and a violin," she stated.
'And memories,' he thought. 'Memories to keep me going.'
His eyes rested on the teapot. Yes, it was definitely the memories that kept him going, kept him fighting
Title: Spring Warmth
Fandom: The Lord of the Rings
Characters: Frodo Baggins, Boromir
Rating: PG13
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings, and I do not profit from the writing of this story.
Summary: Frodo and Borormir talk.
There was really never such thing as an ending, Frodo decided as he stared at the ceiling. He lay in his room at Bag End, the journey to Rivendell and beyond over, but it had led to a beginning for a life he knew he could never lead, not any more. The Shire had been reclaimed by his kindred Hobbits, which had put an end to Saruman, but even that end had turned into a beginning. Granted, it was more of a beginning for Sam and his cousins, but then Frodo would not want it any other way.
"Are you going to stay in bed all day, little one?" he heard Boromir ask. "You won't get anything done that way."
Frodo nearly started at hearing the dead man's voice. It was not often he thought of Boromir. The last memory he had of the man was not a pleasant, not with Boromir trying to steal the Ring from him. He bolted forward, looking around. He half-expected the room to be empty. Sam would not be tending the gardens until sometime later in the day. Frodo knew he was alone.
Except , upon sitting up and glancing wildly around his room, Frodo saw he was not alone. There, at the edge of his bed, sat Boromir.
He looked as he had that final and horrible day Frodo had seen him alive. His clothes were still weather and travel-stained. Boromir even appeared a little tired around the eyes, but there was a smile on the man's face, a genuine smile of happiness. He could not see where the many arrows of the orcs had pierced the man, causing him to die a slow and agonizing death. Merry and Pippin had told him of what Boromir had done for them, how he died in an effort to save them from the clutches of the orcs. He was grateful for what Boromir had done, had even forgiven him for his attempted theft of the Ring. To Frodo, the man sitting on the edge of his bed appeared as whole and as sound as if he were still alive. The only difference he could see was Boromir no longer carried the Horn of Gondor. That lay in Minas Tirith, cloven in two.
"What . . ."
"You have nothing to fear from me, Frodo," Boromir said. He even smiled. "I am not here to haunt you or to harm you."
"That is a relief," Frodo murmured. His mind still could not comprehend the fact that Boromir was not too far from him. Indeed, he could reach out and touch the man on the arm for all it was worth. Despite being a snug hobbit hole, it was not meant for men to say in. Even Gandalf had a tough time every so often. "But the question remains, why are you here?"
"We did not part on the best of terms," the man replied. "I was not myself that day, as you were probably well aware. You were right to run from me and to head for Mordor. In my craze to get the Ring, I may have harmed you, and for that I could never forgive myself. I could not see until it was too late."
Aragorn had said as much to Frodo. Slowly, the hobbit nodded.
"No," said he, "you were not, but then the Ring had a funny way about it."
"it did," Boromir agreed. "I can only hope that you forgive me of my trespsasses that day."
"I already have," Frodo answered. "You tried to save Merry and Pippin. They said you fought with honor and bravery. They said it was because of you that they fought back. They were able to escape later."
"Unharmed, I hope."
"Unharmed," Frodo said with a nod. "You may rest easy, Boromir. Your actions were not in vain."
A soft sigh escaped the dead man's ghost. For some reason, Boromir's presence was no longer frightening. In truth, it never really had. Frodo had endured the terrors of the Barrow-wights. This was more than that, more than a chill on a cool autumn day. This . . . this was relief, a warm breeze in the beginning of spring.
Beginnings. There he was again, at beginnings. A cool yet warm hand touched him on the forehead. Glancing at Boromir, he saw the man's form starting to vanish before his eyes.
"Tell Merry and Pippin I've no regrets for that day, if you are able to," Boromir said. "Tell them that there are no endings. Only beginnings."
With those words spoken, Boromir faded from sight, leaving Frodo to wonder if he had truly been there.
Title: A Blessing of Spring
Fandom: Star Ocean 3
Characters/Pairings: Albel Nox, Luther Lansfeld x Fayt Leingod, Sophia Esteed, Nel Zelpher, Ryoko Leingod
Rating: PG13
Warnings: male/male relationship
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Ocean nor the characters, and I do not profit from the writing of this material.
Summary: Spring has arrived and with it, some rather unusual happenings.
There were just some things Albel Nox would never understand. For instance, there were some people who were happy when the sun shone. There were some who were happy when it rained. And there was the constant apperance of that Esteed wench every time spring started to bloom in Aquaria. Ever since she graduated from that place she called "high school" (another thing he did not understand, what elevated the building so it would be high?), she visited his planet when the Maidens of Irisa were in bloom. She often claimed she was looking for that maggot Fayt Leingod, and she often asked him or Nel (or sometimes both at the same time) as to whether or not they had seen him. Since the Creator's defeat some six or seven years prior, no one had heard from the blue-haired man or his mother. It was cause for worry, in her mind.
Not that Albel cared what worried her. What Leingod did was his own business, not Albe's and certainly not the Esteed wench's. Why she thought that weak fool would return to Elicoor baffled him as much as it annoyed him, and he kicked at a stray rock, sending anyone nearby hurrying along.
Except for three people, he noted. One happened to be a woman, an older woman, someone who could be his mother. Her blue hair hung to her waist, and she looked worn out. The other two were men, one a blond and the other blue-haired as well. All three were garbed in the current fashions, and the woman had one or two blooms woven into her hair. Albel scowled at them, but they paid him no heed as they walked by him.
At least, so he thought. They had walked a few paces beyond him when one of the men said, "A blessing of Spring for you, Sir Albel. May the Creator smile in fortune upon you."
The moment he heard that voice, Albel froze, his hackles rising. He knew that voice. It was one he would never forget, not with its icy tones and quiet yet strong declarations of death for any who stood against him.
He whirled around to say something, anything, really but when he looked, there was no one there.
"Dammit," he growled. He knew he heard Luther's voice. He heard it as sure of the gauntlet covering his arm, but where the former Creator had disappeared to, Albel could not say. Perhaps it was time for him to talk to that Esteed wench after all.
Title: The Dark Sorcerer
Fandom: Star Ocean 3
Pairing: Luther Lansfeld x Fayt Leingod
Rating: PG13
Warnings: AU, sci-fi adventure, yaoi
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Ocean nor the characters, and I do not profit from the writing of this material.
Summary:
What happened when the God you knew turned from a shining beacon of light and hope to a menace of darkness and fear? How were you supposed to react? Were you supposed to give up and die, as your God commanded you to or did you fight?
Those were the kinds of questions that floated around in Fayt's mind, and they drove him beyond distraction. Of course, given he could not move an inch without assistance, all he had left of himself were his thoughts. It was not that he could not feel his body. It was that he could no longer use it. His fabled powers of Destruction had lived up to their name, destroying as many of his abilities as imaginable. No one knew how to help him, save Luther Lansfeld, perhaps, but those were thoughts Fayt did not want entering his mind. He heard someone walking into the room, footsteps he did not recognize. Whoever wanted to see him stopped just before entering his line of vision.
"It seems as if the White Knight is in need of the Dark Sorcerer, after all," the person said. He then stepped into view, and, for the first time since the final battle, Fayt laid eyes on Luther Lansfeld.
His blond hair still retained its reddish gold sheen, but his face had become more careworn, more haggard. His clothes appeared as if they hung loosely onto his body instead of clinging tight, but that could have been an illusion for all Fayt knew. He stared wordlessly at his enemy. Luther paused and then regarded him.
"You can see me," he murmured. "You are aware of me. I suppose that is a good sign. I don't even remember how long it took me to find you. Yet here I am, and there you are, silent and immobile. That is not a good sign, White Knight. Perhaps a change of scenery is required, away from these doctors and scientists. Are you willing to leave to find out? A few days time will tell the tale."
Fayt could only stare as dark energies swirled around Luther, dark energies mingling with white and violet lights. Everything else faded from view . . .
Title: Her Name
Fandom: Immortal Rain
Characters: Rain, Laylah (OFC)
Rating: PG-ish
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I do not own Immortal Rain nor the character Rain, and I do not profit from the writing of this material.
Summary:
"What was her name?"
"What's who's name?" Rain murmured. He lay on the ground with a blanket underneath him. Above him stretched a black sky like the deepest velvet studded with the brilliance of diamonds. It was a place where he could lose himself, for a brief moment or so, and be at peace, at ease with who he was and how far his life had taken him and for how long. Because he was staring at the sky, he was not paying much attention to Laylah and her unpacking of her gear. The woman hardly spoke to him throughout their journey. Then again, Rain surmised her to be a bounty hunter of some kind. Whether she was hunting him or just along for the ride, he could not say. He was not about to ask, either. Her secret were her secrets, hers to share when she chose, but Rain knew one thing about her, even though she remained blissfully unaware of this knowledge.
"The girl who carried the scythe," Laylah answered. "What was her name? I know she was important to you. That's why you always carry it with you. Just like the owners of the violin and the teapot are important to you, but you've never told me their names."
"Oh . . ." Rain continued to stare at the sky for several long moments. He remembered names very well. Sometimes he wished he could not, but for the most part, he enjoyed remembering such small details. Then he replied, "Machika . . . Her name was Machika."
"Machika . . . I was told my great-great-great-grandmother's name was Machika. She was a reaper," Laylah murmured. "Though no one knows who my great-great-great-grandfather was . . .He disappeared shortly after she died. . . Hey, Rain . . ."
"Yes, Laylah?"
"Do . . . do you think it's possible for our loved ones to watch over us, even when they're dead?" Laylah inquired.
To that, Rain said nothing. There was nothing he could say. Given how long he had lived and everything he endured, he was not even sure he believed the souls of the dead truly rested. Idly, he rubbed his chest, the new date etched onto the cross causing his flesh to itch.
"You okay, Rain?"
"I'm fine, Laylah. I'm fine."
'As long as you and I carry on her memory, I will be more than fine. I will be okay.'
"Rain?"
"Hmmm?"
"You didn't answer me . . . I thought you might have fallen asleep on me. Again," Laylah added with a slight huff. Rain managed a faint smile. She did not realize it, and he would never say, but being around her sometimes hurt. Though she did not resemble Machika, knowing she was his great-great-great-granddaughter caused him to miss her all the more. He had loved Machika and dearly so at that. Rain reached over and tousled Laylah's hair, an action she scowled t. He could not help himself. In some ways, riling Laylah was like riling Machika.
"Rain! Stop that! You're so annoying!" She let out a sigh of frustration. "I don't know why I bother sometimes."
Rain simply smiled and resumed his staring at the sky. He knew why she bothered. They were for the same reasons why he and Machika bothered.
"So her name was Machika . . . I wish I could have met her . . . she must have been a wonderful person."
"She was . . ."
'And you'll meet her soon . . . I can feel it . . .'