(no subject)
Braig squeezed tighter, grinning to himself in the dark. He could crush Riku’s windpipe right then and there and the clone wouldn’t protest. It would just continue to exist until it died. Absolutely nothing gave Braig a bigger thrill than the thought of the boy’s body just stopping at his command. Not a scream. Not a whimper. Not a sigh. Just silence.
Riku could feel its breath rush past its drying lips and hitch in its throat on the exhale. Master was good… Master wouldn’t let it die. And even if he did, Master would have a good reason. The clone wasn’t important, after all.
But Braig released his hold on the clone’s throat and oxygen flowed once again into Riku’s burning lungs. It inhaled deeply, gratefully and rolled onto its side to face its master.
Untitled (Xigbar/Sephiroth Xaldin)
What was the cause of this strange change in behavior? What caused Xigbar to clench his teeth so hard on his grin that tiny fracture lines appeared in his molars? (They appeared with a tiny popping noise - like the sound of cracking glass. With each one, pain shot through Xigbar’s jaw like fire. He was almost beginning to enjoy it.)
For one thing, Sephiroth was fucking Xaldin up the ass down there. For another, he was doing it well.
What bothered Xigbar the most was that Xaldin knew better. He should have been smarter. His intelligence (along with the fact that he was a fucking animal in bed) was half the reason Xigbar liked him in the first place. But doing something as monumentally fucking stupid as cheating on Xigbar was so beyond dumb that it completely destroyed Xigbar’s ability to function on a rational level. And unfortunately for Xaldin, Xigbar’s ability to process information on a rational level was fucked up to begin with.
~
Untitled (Xigbar/Namine)
Fragile. Delicate. Her skin was so soft that it seemed like it would tear if you merely brushed it. Xigbar had always liked Namine, just the sight of her. But she’d always been something to look at, not to touch. Xemnas didn’t constitute much of a threat to Xigbar, but he could make things uncomfortable… and Xigbar didn’t want that.
~
Equal & Opposite Reactions Part III (Xigbar, Vexen)
Was Xigbar faking his cold, palpable rage or was it real? It was impossible to tell either way. It certainly looked real - the madness in his otherwise empty eye certainly was. He dug his fingers into Vexen’s throat, tilting his own head down until his stitched lips were just brushing Vexen’s cloaked shoulder. But he didn’t bite. He didn’t bite. He didn’t growl. He didn’t laugh or even speak as his fingers dug deeper into Vexen’s throat. Breaking the skin was the difficult part. Once penetrated and ripped open, Vexen stopped struggling. But he remained alive for a little while longer - long enough for Xigbar to begin silently peeling his skin off.
~
Getting Away With Murder (Cloud, Sephiroth)
Could be worse, Cloud thought to himself. I mean, you got your deck of cards, you got the voices in your head, you got the threat of capital punishment literally looming over your neck, you got a woman who’ll prolly kick your ass from here to Traverse Town when and if you get out and, best of all, you got no lawyer. There’s comfort being at the bottom.
Actually, I’d say you’re more or less fucked, especially since you’re on bottom.
“Shut up, Sephiroth. I told you we’re not on speaking terms.” Cloud shuffled the cards for what felt like the millionth time. The soft pattering scrape they made against the gritty stone floor was somehow comforting. Of course, it was a small comfort considering that he was speaking to the voice in his head…
~
Untitled (Xigbar/Demyx)
“So Demyx. I heard you like to fuck little dead boys.”
Demyx looked up sharply.
Xigbar loomed in the doorway of the cave entrance. Light spilled around him from behind so tha the assumed the appearance of some sort of avenging god. The light glinted off the streaks in his hair and his one remaining eye.
All of the Dancers gathered around Demyx flinched. Out of all of the superior Nobodies, they despised Xigbar the most. He was brash and loud and crude, everything that their master wasn’t. They hissed quietly as they shifted around Demyx like a living cloud.
“Please leave me alone, Xigbar.” Demyx looked up at the Freeshooter. There was still a chance this could end peacefully. A small chance, yes, but still a chance. “I’m not bothering you…”
“Nope, but that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to talk about what gets you bothered.” Xigbar grinned as he began to walk down the steps. “I knew you had to be into something kinky, Dems, but fucking little dead boys? I didn’t give you enough credit.”
~
Untitled (Xigbar/Larxene)
Larxene looked back and forth between the two for a moment, wondering which would eventually yield. Marluxia glared at Xigbar for a few moments before grabbing some supplies and leaving to tend his wounds in peace. Larxene, however, sat down across from Xigbar and watched him as she bandaged herself up.
“So, you’re Number Two?” She ripped off a length of bandage with her teeth and began to wind it around her leg. “So how’d you get that job? You don’t really seem like the ass-kissing type.”
“Depends on what the ass tastes like.” Xigbar watched the blood trickle down her body. It had been a very long time since he had seen a woman whom he found so… appealing.
~
War (Sora, Zexion)
He was being kept in a cage on the floor of a dungeon. Even though it was dark, he could see that filth and debris littered the floor. It was also evident from the sour, musty smell. A number of screens were mounted on the opposite wall and cast a bluish light around the dim room. The chair in front of the console was occupied by a young man with light eyes and short, dark blue hair wearing a tailored black uniform. The sight of that uniform was what made Sora’s stomach sink. If he was at their damned headquarters, things were a whole hell of a lot worse than he thought.
“I’m going out on a limb and assuming you have a name. You’ll make it easier on both of us if you give that and any other information you have to me outright.” The man in the chair steepled his fingers.
Sora set his jaw and didn’t say a word. The other man merely watched him for a few moments then shrugged.
“Fine.”
The blue-haired man rose and walked over to the cage, picking a long, lead pipe off the floor as he did. Sora’s eyes followed as he raised it and he hoped for a feverish second that the reddish stains on the end were rust. Sparks exploded in his vision and then it all went black.
~
Final Fantasy
Untitled FF7 Priest Cloud fic
“These early morning services are gonna kill me.”
Dawn was only just breaking when Father Cloud Strife walked out the back entrance of the cathedral to the alley beyond. The grey eastern light gave a mysterious glow to the city, even to this rusted and crumbling district. Cloud didn’t even need to glance over his shoulder to know that the stained glass window behind him was slowly being illuminated by the rising light.
A pack of Golden Chocobo cigarettes was extracted from the pocket of the robes and a cigarette removed. Cloud held it to his lips with two fingers as he flicked open a silver lighter. He couldn’t even remember when or where along the line he’d started smoking. God knew that there had been plenty of people he could have picked it up from - Zack, for one. Or Cid or Barret or even Reno. There had been no shortage of people to learn bad habits from over the years.
~
Rude's Bad Day (FF7. Reno and Rude)
Rude had just about reached the end of his rope with Reno.
It was a Friday afternoon and the end of the most miserable week in Rude’s professional career. Work had been a nightmare consisting of twice as many fistfights and four times the normal amount of explosions that could normally be expected in a typical week. The total damage for the week amounted to four pairs of sunglasses, two suits, a new watch, a pair of goggles, about ten thousand gil worth of flooring, twenty-six stitches and one champion green chocobo.
The chocobo had been the last straw.
Um... I think that's most of 'em. ^^;; I'm crazy for trying to work on all this at once.
Riku could feel its breath rush past its drying lips and hitch in its throat on the exhale. Master was good… Master wouldn’t let it die. And even if he did, Master would have a good reason. The clone wasn’t important, after all.
But Braig released his hold on the clone’s throat and oxygen flowed once again into Riku’s burning lungs. It inhaled deeply, gratefully and rolled onto its side to face its master.
Untitled (Xigbar/Sephiroth Xaldin)
What was the cause of this strange change in behavior? What caused Xigbar to clench his teeth so hard on his grin that tiny fracture lines appeared in his molars? (They appeared with a tiny popping noise - like the sound of cracking glass. With each one, pain shot through Xigbar’s jaw like fire. He was almost beginning to enjoy it.)
For one thing, Sephiroth was fucking Xaldin up the ass down there. For another, he was doing it well.
What bothered Xigbar the most was that Xaldin knew better. He should have been smarter. His intelligence (along with the fact that he was a fucking animal in bed) was half the reason Xigbar liked him in the first place. But doing something as monumentally fucking stupid as cheating on Xigbar was so beyond dumb that it completely destroyed Xigbar’s ability to function on a rational level. And unfortunately for Xaldin, Xigbar’s ability to process information on a rational level was fucked up to begin with.
~
Untitled (Xigbar/Namine)
Fragile. Delicate. Her skin was so soft that it seemed like it would tear if you merely brushed it. Xigbar had always liked Namine, just the sight of her. But she’d always been something to look at, not to touch. Xemnas didn’t constitute much of a threat to Xigbar, but he could make things uncomfortable… and Xigbar didn’t want that.
~
Equal & Opposite Reactions Part III (Xigbar, Vexen)
Was Xigbar faking his cold, palpable rage or was it real? It was impossible to tell either way. It certainly looked real - the madness in his otherwise empty eye certainly was. He dug his fingers into Vexen’s throat, tilting his own head down until his stitched lips were just brushing Vexen’s cloaked shoulder. But he didn’t bite. He didn’t bite. He didn’t growl. He didn’t laugh or even speak as his fingers dug deeper into Vexen’s throat. Breaking the skin was the difficult part. Once penetrated and ripped open, Vexen stopped struggling. But he remained alive for a little while longer - long enough for Xigbar to begin silently peeling his skin off.
~
Getting Away With Murder (Cloud, Sephiroth)
Could be worse, Cloud thought to himself. I mean, you got your deck of cards, you got the voices in your head, you got the threat of capital punishment literally looming over your neck, you got a woman who’ll prolly kick your ass from here to Traverse Town when and if you get out and, best of all, you got no lawyer. There’s comfort being at the bottom.
Actually, I’d say you’re more or less fucked, especially since you’re on bottom.
“Shut up, Sephiroth. I told you we’re not on speaking terms.” Cloud shuffled the cards for what felt like the millionth time. The soft pattering scrape they made against the gritty stone floor was somehow comforting. Of course, it was a small comfort considering that he was speaking to the voice in his head…
~
Untitled (Xigbar/Demyx)
“So Demyx. I heard you like to fuck little dead boys.”
Demyx looked up sharply.
Xigbar loomed in the doorway of the cave entrance. Light spilled around him from behind so tha the assumed the appearance of some sort of avenging god. The light glinted off the streaks in his hair and his one remaining eye.
All of the Dancers gathered around Demyx flinched. Out of all of the superior Nobodies, they despised Xigbar the most. He was brash and loud and crude, everything that their master wasn’t. They hissed quietly as they shifted around Demyx like a living cloud.
“Please leave me alone, Xigbar.” Demyx looked up at the Freeshooter. There was still a chance this could end peacefully. A small chance, yes, but still a chance. “I’m not bothering you…”
“Nope, but that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to talk about what gets you bothered.” Xigbar grinned as he began to walk down the steps. “I knew you had to be into something kinky, Dems, but fucking little dead boys? I didn’t give you enough credit.”
~
Untitled (Xigbar/Larxene)
Larxene looked back and forth between the two for a moment, wondering which would eventually yield. Marluxia glared at Xigbar for a few moments before grabbing some supplies and leaving to tend his wounds in peace. Larxene, however, sat down across from Xigbar and watched him as she bandaged herself up.
“So, you’re Number Two?” She ripped off a length of bandage with her teeth and began to wind it around her leg. “So how’d you get that job? You don’t really seem like the ass-kissing type.”
“Depends on what the ass tastes like.” Xigbar watched the blood trickle down her body. It had been a very long time since he had seen a woman whom he found so… appealing.
~
War (Sora, Zexion)
He was being kept in a cage on the floor of a dungeon. Even though it was dark, he could see that filth and debris littered the floor. It was also evident from the sour, musty smell. A number of screens were mounted on the opposite wall and cast a bluish light around the dim room. The chair in front of the console was occupied by a young man with light eyes and short, dark blue hair wearing a tailored black uniform. The sight of that uniform was what made Sora’s stomach sink. If he was at their damned headquarters, things were a whole hell of a lot worse than he thought.
“I’m going out on a limb and assuming you have a name. You’ll make it easier on both of us if you give that and any other information you have to me outright.” The man in the chair steepled his fingers.
Sora set his jaw and didn’t say a word. The other man merely watched him for a few moments then shrugged.
“Fine.”
The blue-haired man rose and walked over to the cage, picking a long, lead pipe off the floor as he did. Sora’s eyes followed as he raised it and he hoped for a feverish second that the reddish stains on the end were rust. Sparks exploded in his vision and then it all went black.
~
Final Fantasy
Untitled FF7 Priest Cloud fic
“These early morning services are gonna kill me.”
Dawn was only just breaking when Father Cloud Strife walked out the back entrance of the cathedral to the alley beyond. The grey eastern light gave a mysterious glow to the city, even to this rusted and crumbling district. Cloud didn’t even need to glance over his shoulder to know that the stained glass window behind him was slowly being illuminated by the rising light.
A pack of Golden Chocobo cigarettes was extracted from the pocket of the robes and a cigarette removed. Cloud held it to his lips with two fingers as he flicked open a silver lighter. He couldn’t even remember when or where along the line he’d started smoking. God knew that there had been plenty of people he could have picked it up from - Zack, for one. Or Cid or Barret or even Reno. There had been no shortage of people to learn bad habits from over the years.
~
Rude's Bad Day (FF7. Reno and Rude)
Rude had just about reached the end of his rope with Reno.
It was a Friday afternoon and the end of the most miserable week in Rude’s professional career. Work had been a nightmare consisting of twice as many fistfights and four times the normal amount of explosions that could normally be expected in a typical week. The total damage for the week amounted to four pairs of sunglasses, two suits, a new watch, a pair of goggles, about ten thousand gil worth of flooring, twenty-six stitches and one champion green chocobo.
The chocobo had been the last straw.
Um... I think that's most of 'em. ^^;; I'm crazy for trying to work on all this at once.