Rave (cheloya) wrote in happenstance, @ 2008-10-18 17:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | bleach, final fantasy vii, havemercy, loveless, vagrant story |
[MULTIFANDOM] Drabbles
Bleach; Yumichika + lipstick ninja
It would be many years before Yumichika could return the favour, of course, but there would come a day, he vowed, when Yachiru would be five minutes away from the date of her life, and she would open up her cupboard to find her shoes and shrug and lipstick stolen or crushed or smeared all over the walls, and then perhaps she would know a fraction of Yumichika’s frustration whenever she went through his things in search of the perfect geisha shoes, horseblanket, or fingerpaint.
(In the background, Ikkaku yawns and waits for Yumi to run out of steam. It won’t happen for a good while yet, so he might as well nap while he can.)
Final Fantasy VII; Zack + soap
Sephiroth eyed him with some distaste. “...I think I’ll wait,” he said. Zack shrugged, scrubbed the bar enthusiastically through his hair.
“Be picky if you want,” he said. “We both know you’re not going to sleep until it’s clean. But if you’re planning not to sleep ‘til we get back to Junon, then you’ve either gotta let me warn the platoon or get Cloud in here to—”
Sephiroth did not roll his eyes, but the sentiment was obvious. He caught the bar when Zack tossed it to him, eyed it for a moment, and then dropped it purposefully in the river.
“A bar without your pubic hair, if you don’t mind.”
Havemercy; Royston + Erik, an eroded rock, a book, and a peg.
“Surely you wouldn’t have gone to all that trouble, though,” Hal insisted, not quite looking in Royston’s direction, “if you hadn’t, on some level, I mean—”
“I am fairly certain that nowhere, in those weeks, did I consider whether Erik might in any way be worth ‘all that trouble,’” Royston said, arching a brow. “In fact, I am fairly certain that I did not consider anything at all. How are you going with that?” he added, as Hal fumbled with and lost hold of a tent peg.
“I’ll be fine. I have done this before. Just, um.” He spent a few moments looking quizzically between cloth straps. “Not for a while. Er.”
Royston pressed close to him from behind, rested his chin on the younger man’s shoulder, and pilfered both mallet and tent peg while Hal was busy blushing. “Go and sit by the fire,” he suggested with a sideways glance. “And start from page forty-three. I think you’ll find it very much worth the trouble.”
Loveless; Soubi + soap
Ritsuka sat very still and stared hard at the far wall. His fingers dug into his knees so hard that they were white beneath the water, and his face, he was sure, was the colour of Valentine’s Day mochi, but he didn’t make a sound.
Soubi worked the soap carefully up and down the length of Ritsuka’s tail, and made a mental note to thank Kio. Ritsuka would never have thought of the dangers of dropping soap in the shower on his own.
Petshop of Horrors; Leon + damn these broken lungs
He hated to admit it, but he was starting to think D was right – he did need to give up smoking. If only so he could keep up arguing long enough to prove he didn’t have to.
Vagrant Story; Sydney + peeling an orange
(Disclaimer: I am really not qualified to fic for this fandom; apologies. Orz Also, I think this turned into ‘peel me a grape.’)
To be fair, Sydney could make any movement of his spindly metal claws fascinating, but oranges are difficult to come by for the lower classes, and Hardin cannot help but wince every time it seems this one’s peeling will go awry.
Not only for the rarity of the fruit. The maintenance of Sydney’s hands is rather more complicated than that of plate or chain mail, and though it’s hard to imagine Sydney clumsy, he is well aware of the dangers should the joints begin to stick.
When bare inches of skin are left on the thing, Sydney tosses it to Hardin, pale eyes fey beneath paler lashes, and examines his blade-like digits critically. His job is done; the dirty work is for Hardin.
For Sydney, he doesn’t mind.