Drabbles from the Last Challenge
I realised that I didn't actually post the drabbles I wrote for the last challenge. So I'm going to put them up here.
For naiyad:
Fandom: Weiss Kreuz
Characters: Crawford, Schuldig
Crawford wakes up knowing that something's going to break.
He stays in bed, staring straight ahead of him until he hears the violent crash of glass and a string of angry curses. Gripping the edge of the bed with one hand, he eases himself into a standing position and walks towards the kitchen. Once there, Schuldich doesn’t acknowledge him, still hurling curses at what Crawford assumes was once a plate, followed by the sound of stomping and the tinkling of glass as it is broken into smaller pieces.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he says.
“Yeah?” More stomping. “Which foot?”
He doesn’t answer that; ‘your right,’ he thinks, but he doesn’t say it. Instead, he waits for what is sure to come and soon enough, the German exclaims in pain, accompanied by a fresh round of curses.
Metal scrapes against tiled floor. Schuldich sits down. There is a pause before Crawford asks, “Which foot?”
“Left,” the redhead snaps angrily. “Damn plate.”
There is another pause as Crawford acknowledges this - hears it and digests it as yet another fact he has gotten wrong. Finally, in a voice so quiet that he almost misses it himself, he accepts it, “I see.”
“No, you don’t!” and suddenly the redhead’s voice is much closer than before; right in front of him, in fact, because he can feel the words burn as they are hauled into his face. “No, you don’t! You can’t see anything! Your sight isn’t worth crap anymore and my mind is so fucked up all the time that it’s driving me insane having to listen to all these dead people going on and on about how they’re not actually dead and what are you doing?” Here, Crawford can feel the accusing heat of a finger being pointed at him. “You’re walking into walls. Proud Oracle, leader of Rosenkreuz’s finest team. Is walking into walls.”
There is silence then, a heavy fog of frustration surrounding the both of them and Crawford knows exactly what is running through Schuldich’s mind right now; ‘The door is right there,’ he’s thinking. ‘All I have to do is walk away.’
And like many of the silences before, Crawford is the one to break it. “The last time that happened was months ago.”
Schuldich snorts, unimpressed. Nevertheless, the atmosphere lightens immediately.
The German doesn’t apologise but then again, Crawford never expects him to because he knows that, despite everything - despite a bleeding foot, a blind roommate and hundreds of imaginary conversations with non-existent people in his head - despite everything, this is all they have left.
Schuldich isn’t going anywhere. And neither is he.
“Get that foot bandaged,” Crawford says, turning in the direction of his room. “We’re eating out.”
Fandom: Discworld
Characters: Vetinari, Vimes
Ankh-Morpork is on fire.
Everywhere, parts of the city are crumbling, once-sturdy stonework now becoming nothing more than brick, debris and dust. Sparks flare into angry flames, burning the skies a deep, fiery red as screams fill the streets; screams and tears and blood.
Above it all, the Patrician watches the plot unfold from his office. Behind him, Vimes has his sword pointed at the pale man, the tip almost touching his nape.
“Do you really believe doing this will end it all?” Lord Vetinari asks quietly.
The commander hardly blinks, expression grim, his sword steady. “Yes.”
“Well then,” he says, turning to face the copper and clasping his hands behind his back, calm in the face of death. “Whenever you’re ready, Vimes.”
For iki_teru:
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts
Characters: Yuffie, Leon
Leon was born a leader.
Yuffie has known this since the day they met, standing amongst rubble and ruin under a bleak, hopeless sky. There is something about him that makes people listen, makes them drop whatever it is they’re doing to pay attention - a voice of authority, an air of experience; she doesn’t know.
This is what she is trying to figure out as she studies him talking quietly with Merlin, most probably going over the plan one last time before they begin the operation.
Today’s target: the castle’s second floor. They have been reclaiming sections of the abandoned castle every few days, recovering piles of new information and useful technology as they go. The progress is good, if a bit slow but they’re staying hopeful.
One day, they’ll regain control of the entire castle. Of that, Leon is sure.
Now he is talking with Aerith, who smiles and nods patiently. They are waiting for Cid’s signal and although they are still ahead of schedule, Leon is getting restless. She can see it in the way he moves - the anxious strides and agitated twitching of the gunblade against his side.
Yuffie wants to say something to him, but she also wants to wait for the right moment, when Leon moves away from the group…yep. Just like that. Now he is standing by the tall, cracked pillar, arms crossed, frown set on the tiled floor.
She makes her way over to him. “What are you doing all the way over here?”
Leon shoots a glance in her direction before dropping his gaze once more. “Nothing.”
And Yuffie almost laughs at that. He’s worried about the mission. How typical of him, despite having lead the Hollow Bastion Restoration Committee for so long - despite having been an honour student of the SEED division back in school; despite waging war against sorceresses and outwitting their dark knights; despite leading armies of men older than him through no man’s land and surviving certain death that restoration efforts should be a cakewalk in comparison.
Despite having proven over and over, his ability to lead, Leon can still doubt himself.
He will never admit it because such talk that will only ruin the town’s trust in him and they can’t afford to lose that. Even so, Aerith knows - Cid knows - Yuffie knows. After all, they’ve known each other long enough to recognize the little signs.
And so she says nothing about it. Instead, she offers a wide, toothy grin. “This is going to be a piece of cake. We’ll clear the second floor in no time!”
This time, Leon meets her gaze steadily. There is a faint twitch at the corner of his lips and a hint of grateful warmth in his eyes as he replies, in what should be a disapproving tone, had it not been for the gentle way he looks at her. “Don’t get cocky, Yuffie.”
After all, they’ve known each other long enough to read between the lines.
For southern_half:
Fandom: Ookiku Furikabutte
Characters: Izumi, Mizutani
It’s that time of the year again - a time of wrapped up chocolates and handwritten letters slipped into lockers; a time of expressing one’s feelings to unsuspecting members of the opposite sex whilst established couples meet up for romantic walks in the park or dinner at nearby restaurants.
Izumi sighs. People always get so sappy about these things, buying heart-shaped chocolates and going out on dates. Not to mention all the pink. It’s starting to hurt his eyes.
Currently, it’s lunch break which means plans are being put into action. There was a horde of girls standing outside his classroom when he left, all giggling amongst themselves and shooting not so subtle glances at his teammate.
Granted, this is to be expected. After all, Tajima is one of the most popular guys in school. It’s only natural for something like this to happen.
“Izumi!”
At the sound of his name, he turns around and sees Mizutani jogging lightly towards him. “Hey.”
“Hey. Where are you heading?”
He rolls his shoulders in a casual shrug. “Just walking around. I had to get out of class. You wouldn’t believe the crowd back there.”
An understanding look crosses his face and Mizutani nods, slowly. “Right. I forgot about that.” Then, he breathes out a sigh. “Tajima’s such a lucky guy.”
Izumi smirks a little, amused. “Because he’s getting loads of chocolate to take back home today?”
“Yeah. It must be nice to be so popular among the girls.”
That makes him arch an eyebrow in surprise. Mizutani is staring wistfully into the air, wearing what seems to be a longing expression. Izumi words his next sentence carefully. “So you were hoping for some chocolate too?”
“No!” is the immediate response. “I mean. No. I mean. I never said that. Whatever gave you that idea? What a silly question. Haha,” and here, Mizutani chuckles nervously, ever the expert at lying. “Oh, look at the time. I better go. I still need to stop by the, uh, vending machine. You know. To get a drink. So. See you at practice!”
Izumi stares as Mizutani all but runs off - and in the wrong direction, he notes. Then he blinks a couple of times as a dead weight settles and makes itself comfortable in his chest.
So Mizutani really does like someone. Izumi has been suspecting it for quite a while now but he thought that perhaps he was just over thinking things. Well. This is great news.
He exhales, squeezing his eyes shut. What had he expected? Mizutani is a simple guy. It was bound to happen sooner or later and now it has.
Still, Izumi had been hoping…
The bell rings, startling him out of his thoughts. He realizes that he’s been standing in the middle of the corridor with his eyes closed and the people passing by are starting to give him strange looks.
He shakes his head at himself. Really, how could he have been so silly?
Izumi turns around and heads back to class.
Fandom: Ookiku Furikabutte
Characters: Izumi, Mizutani
Izumi shifts his weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortable. In front of him, Mizutani is grinning expectantly.
“Are you sure?” Izumi asks, already knowing the answer.
“Yeah! People say the ramen there is really good.”
“We have practice that day,” he points out, if a little guiltily. Then, feeling the need to make things as clear as possible, he adds, “Momokan’s promised to drill us to death and there’s a practice match the day after.”
In response to this, Mizutani only gives him an innocently blank look. “So?”
“That place is,” he hesitates. “I mean. We’d have to take a train to get there.”
“Oh.” The expression on Mizutani’s face starts to change, falling away to reveal a downturned mouth and sad eyes and now he’s refusing to meet Izumi’s gaze, looking down at the floor. “Well, if you think it’s too much trouble, then it’s okay. I just thought it would be nice to eat together but…it’s alright. Really. See you tomorrow then.”
He turns around and walks away, very slowly. Something nags at Izumi’s conscience, beating on it with a gargantuan hammer and Izumi grits his teeth, forcing himself to look away from the retreating figure. ‘Don’t look,’ he tells himself. ‘Don’t look at him. Just keep staring at the wall and you’ll be fine. He’s almost at the door. Almost…’
“Oh, alright.” he snaps. “Sunday it is.”
In an instant, Mizutani is bouncing next to him, smiling widely in Izumi's face and wearing the most pleased expression he has ever seen. “Yay! Thanks, Izumi! It’ll be fun, I swear. You won’t regret this one bit!”
And Izumi sighs at this because, as he returns the bright smile with a small one of his own, he knows he won’t.
For inmyjadedskye:
Fandom: Good Omens
Characters: Crowley, Aziraphale
Sometimes, Crowley dreams of Hell.
Like tonight. He sees the place in its early days, when it had been a vast open space stretching out endlessly, empty but for the fallen. Then it had grown; cracks appeared in the ground, slowly tearing apart to reveal pits of lava, muddied lakes and fire -- the flames licking at their feet, scorching their wings and bathing them in sweat.
He watches as Hell grows, its Hosts growing with it. Soon, he can hear the agonized screams of torture mingling with the amused laughter of demons. The caves are burning hotter than ever, trails of flame climbing up and down the walls, spitting sparks at passerbys, and as they watch others burn, the demons laugh, and Crowley laughs with them and-
-he wakes up, poised in a fighting stance on his bed, his wings open around him. He is breathing hard, already in the motion of springing to attack the demons advancing on him, feeling fire on his skin and-
-he wakes up, crouched low, the sheets damp with sweat and his wings a mess around him. Crowley blinks, straightening as he folds in his wings.
A glance at the clock tells him it’s three in the morning.
Crowley curses.
Ten minutes later, he’s ordering a beef burger set to go when he spots the promotion menu. Crowley studies it and is vaguely appalled by the yellow smileys and pink flowers. “What the hel-what is this?”
“Our specials for this week,” the kid in front of him says. “In celebration of friendship week, we’re offering two burgers for the price of one and a half. Are you interested?”
He wonders about it, for a while.
In fifteen minutes, he’s at the bookstore, handing a bewildered Aziraphale the bag of food. “Your breakfast,” he says, simply.
The angel takes it, opening his mouth to perhaps ask why they’re having breakfast in the dead of the morning. And then he closes it, smiling as he pulls out a chair and sits down. “Thank you, dear.”
For fantasymania:
To be added as soon as I finish it. Sorry, Gracie!
For naiyad:
Fandom: Weiss Kreuz
Characters: Crawford, Schuldig
Crawford wakes up knowing that something's going to break.
He stays in bed, staring straight ahead of him until he hears the violent crash of glass and a string of angry curses. Gripping the edge of the bed with one hand, he eases himself into a standing position and walks towards the kitchen. Once there, Schuldich doesn’t acknowledge him, still hurling curses at what Crawford assumes was once a plate, followed by the sound of stomping and the tinkling of glass as it is broken into smaller pieces.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he says.
“Yeah?” More stomping. “Which foot?”
He doesn’t answer that; ‘your right,’ he thinks, but he doesn’t say it. Instead, he waits for what is sure to come and soon enough, the German exclaims in pain, accompanied by a fresh round of curses.
Metal scrapes against tiled floor. Schuldich sits down. There is a pause before Crawford asks, “Which foot?”
“Left,” the redhead snaps angrily. “Damn plate.”
There is another pause as Crawford acknowledges this - hears it and digests it as yet another fact he has gotten wrong. Finally, in a voice so quiet that he almost misses it himself, he accepts it, “I see.”
“No, you don’t!” and suddenly the redhead’s voice is much closer than before; right in front of him, in fact, because he can feel the words burn as they are hauled into his face. “No, you don’t! You can’t see anything! Your sight isn’t worth crap anymore and my mind is so fucked up all the time that it’s driving me insane having to listen to all these dead people going on and on about how they’re not actually dead and what are you doing?” Here, Crawford can feel the accusing heat of a finger being pointed at him. “You’re walking into walls. Proud Oracle, leader of Rosenkreuz’s finest team. Is walking into walls.”
There is silence then, a heavy fog of frustration surrounding the both of them and Crawford knows exactly what is running through Schuldich’s mind right now; ‘The door is right there,’ he’s thinking. ‘All I have to do is walk away.’
And like many of the silences before, Crawford is the one to break it. “The last time that happened was months ago.”
Schuldich snorts, unimpressed. Nevertheless, the atmosphere lightens immediately.
The German doesn’t apologise but then again, Crawford never expects him to because he knows that, despite everything - despite a bleeding foot, a blind roommate and hundreds of imaginary conversations with non-existent people in his head - despite everything, this is all they have left.
Schuldich isn’t going anywhere. And neither is he.
“Get that foot bandaged,” Crawford says, turning in the direction of his room. “We’re eating out.”
Fandom: Discworld
Characters: Vetinari, Vimes
Ankh-Morpork is on fire.
Everywhere, parts of the city are crumbling, once-sturdy stonework now becoming nothing more than brick, debris and dust. Sparks flare into angry flames, burning the skies a deep, fiery red as screams fill the streets; screams and tears and blood.
Above it all, the Patrician watches the plot unfold from his office. Behind him, Vimes has his sword pointed at the pale man, the tip almost touching his nape.
“Do you really believe doing this will end it all?” Lord Vetinari asks quietly.
The commander hardly blinks, expression grim, his sword steady. “Yes.”
“Well then,” he says, turning to face the copper and clasping his hands behind his back, calm in the face of death. “Whenever you’re ready, Vimes.”
For iki_teru:
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts
Characters: Yuffie, Leon
Leon was born a leader.
Yuffie has known this since the day they met, standing amongst rubble and ruin under a bleak, hopeless sky. There is something about him that makes people listen, makes them drop whatever it is they’re doing to pay attention - a voice of authority, an air of experience; she doesn’t know.
This is what she is trying to figure out as she studies him talking quietly with Merlin, most probably going over the plan one last time before they begin the operation.
Today’s target: the castle’s second floor. They have been reclaiming sections of the abandoned castle every few days, recovering piles of new information and useful technology as they go. The progress is good, if a bit slow but they’re staying hopeful.
One day, they’ll regain control of the entire castle. Of that, Leon is sure.
Now he is talking with Aerith, who smiles and nods patiently. They are waiting for Cid’s signal and although they are still ahead of schedule, Leon is getting restless. She can see it in the way he moves - the anxious strides and agitated twitching of the gunblade against his side.
Yuffie wants to say something to him, but she also wants to wait for the right moment, when Leon moves away from the group…yep. Just like that. Now he is standing by the tall, cracked pillar, arms crossed, frown set on the tiled floor.
She makes her way over to him. “What are you doing all the way over here?”
Leon shoots a glance in her direction before dropping his gaze once more. “Nothing.”
And Yuffie almost laughs at that. He’s worried about the mission. How typical of him, despite having lead the Hollow Bastion Restoration Committee for so long - despite having been an honour student of the SEED division back in school; despite waging war against sorceresses and outwitting their dark knights; despite leading armies of men older than him through no man’s land and surviving certain death that restoration efforts should be a cakewalk in comparison.
Despite having proven over and over, his ability to lead, Leon can still doubt himself.
He will never admit it because such talk that will only ruin the town’s trust in him and they can’t afford to lose that. Even so, Aerith knows - Cid knows - Yuffie knows. After all, they’ve known each other long enough to recognize the little signs.
And so she says nothing about it. Instead, she offers a wide, toothy grin. “This is going to be a piece of cake. We’ll clear the second floor in no time!”
This time, Leon meets her gaze steadily. There is a faint twitch at the corner of his lips and a hint of grateful warmth in his eyes as he replies, in what should be a disapproving tone, had it not been for the gentle way he looks at her. “Don’t get cocky, Yuffie.”
After all, they’ve known each other long enough to read between the lines.
For southern_half:
Fandom: Ookiku Furikabutte
Characters: Izumi, Mizutani
It’s that time of the year again - a time of wrapped up chocolates and handwritten letters slipped into lockers; a time of expressing one’s feelings to unsuspecting members of the opposite sex whilst established couples meet up for romantic walks in the park or dinner at nearby restaurants.
Izumi sighs. People always get so sappy about these things, buying heart-shaped chocolates and going out on dates. Not to mention all the pink. It’s starting to hurt his eyes.
Currently, it’s lunch break which means plans are being put into action. There was a horde of girls standing outside his classroom when he left, all giggling amongst themselves and shooting not so subtle glances at his teammate.
Granted, this is to be expected. After all, Tajima is one of the most popular guys in school. It’s only natural for something like this to happen.
“Izumi!”
At the sound of his name, he turns around and sees Mizutani jogging lightly towards him. “Hey.”
“Hey. Where are you heading?”
He rolls his shoulders in a casual shrug. “Just walking around. I had to get out of class. You wouldn’t believe the crowd back there.”
An understanding look crosses his face and Mizutani nods, slowly. “Right. I forgot about that.” Then, he breathes out a sigh. “Tajima’s such a lucky guy.”
Izumi smirks a little, amused. “Because he’s getting loads of chocolate to take back home today?”
“Yeah. It must be nice to be so popular among the girls.”
That makes him arch an eyebrow in surprise. Mizutani is staring wistfully into the air, wearing what seems to be a longing expression. Izumi words his next sentence carefully. “So you were hoping for some chocolate too?”
“No!” is the immediate response. “I mean. No. I mean. I never said that. Whatever gave you that idea? What a silly question. Haha,” and here, Mizutani chuckles nervously, ever the expert at lying. “Oh, look at the time. I better go. I still need to stop by the, uh, vending machine. You know. To get a drink. So. See you at practice!”
Izumi stares as Mizutani all but runs off - and in the wrong direction, he notes. Then he blinks a couple of times as a dead weight settles and makes itself comfortable in his chest.
So Mizutani really does like someone. Izumi has been suspecting it for quite a while now but he thought that perhaps he was just over thinking things. Well. This is great news.
He exhales, squeezing his eyes shut. What had he expected? Mizutani is a simple guy. It was bound to happen sooner or later and now it has.
Still, Izumi had been hoping…
The bell rings, startling him out of his thoughts. He realizes that he’s been standing in the middle of the corridor with his eyes closed and the people passing by are starting to give him strange looks.
He shakes his head at himself. Really, how could he have been so silly?
Izumi turns around and heads back to class.
Fandom: Ookiku Furikabutte
Characters: Izumi, Mizutani
Izumi shifts his weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortable. In front of him, Mizutani is grinning expectantly.
“Are you sure?” Izumi asks, already knowing the answer.
“Yeah! People say the ramen there is really good.”
“We have practice that day,” he points out, if a little guiltily. Then, feeling the need to make things as clear as possible, he adds, “Momokan’s promised to drill us to death and there’s a practice match the day after.”
In response to this, Mizutani only gives him an innocently blank look. “So?”
“That place is,” he hesitates. “I mean. We’d have to take a train to get there.”
“Oh.” The expression on Mizutani’s face starts to change, falling away to reveal a downturned mouth and sad eyes and now he’s refusing to meet Izumi’s gaze, looking down at the floor. “Well, if you think it’s too much trouble, then it’s okay. I just thought it would be nice to eat together but…it’s alright. Really. See you tomorrow then.”
He turns around and walks away, very slowly. Something nags at Izumi’s conscience, beating on it with a gargantuan hammer and Izumi grits his teeth, forcing himself to look away from the retreating figure. ‘Don’t look,’ he tells himself. ‘Don’t look at him. Just keep staring at the wall and you’ll be fine. He’s almost at the door. Almost…’
“Oh, alright.” he snaps. “Sunday it is.”
In an instant, Mizutani is bouncing next to him, smiling widely in Izumi's face and wearing the most pleased expression he has ever seen. “Yay! Thanks, Izumi! It’ll be fun, I swear. You won’t regret this one bit!”
And Izumi sighs at this because, as he returns the bright smile with a small one of his own, he knows he won’t.
For inmyjadedskye:
Fandom: Good Omens
Characters: Crowley, Aziraphale
Sometimes, Crowley dreams of Hell.
Like tonight. He sees the place in its early days, when it had been a vast open space stretching out endlessly, empty but for the fallen. Then it had grown; cracks appeared in the ground, slowly tearing apart to reveal pits of lava, muddied lakes and fire -- the flames licking at their feet, scorching their wings and bathing them in sweat.
He watches as Hell grows, its Hosts growing with it. Soon, he can hear the agonized screams of torture mingling with the amused laughter of demons. The caves are burning hotter than ever, trails of flame climbing up and down the walls, spitting sparks at passerbys, and as they watch others burn, the demons laugh, and Crowley laughs with them and-
-he wakes up, poised in a fighting stance on his bed, his wings open around him. He is breathing hard, already in the motion of springing to attack the demons advancing on him, feeling fire on his skin and-
-he wakes up, crouched low, the sheets damp with sweat and his wings a mess around him. Crowley blinks, straightening as he folds in his wings.
A glance at the clock tells him it’s three in the morning.
Crowley curses.
Ten minutes later, he’s ordering a beef burger set to go when he spots the promotion menu. Crowley studies it and is vaguely appalled by the yellow smileys and pink flowers. “What the hel-what is this?”
“Our specials for this week,” the kid in front of him says. “In celebration of friendship week, we’re offering two burgers for the price of one and a half. Are you interested?”
He wonders about it, for a while.
In fifteen minutes, he’s at the bookstore, handing a bewildered Aziraphale the bag of food. “Your breakfast,” he says, simply.
The angel takes it, opening his mouth to perhaps ask why they’re having breakfast in the dead of the morning. And then he closes it, smiling as he pulls out a chair and sits down. “Thank you, dear.”
For fantasymania:
To be added as soon as I finish it. Sorry, Gracie!