remo (
strikethrough) wrote2011-01-29 12:04 pm
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fics: short stories.
Title: Follow
Rating: G
Pairings: Implied pairing of ?/? Make of it what you will.
Summary: She'd follow him anywhere.
He reaches out to her, beckoning for her to join him. She takes his hand and steps closer, joining him by his side as they watch their world crumble around them. This is the only world she's ever known, of blood and smoke and betrayal - this is the world he helped destroy then rebuild only to destroy again (she doesn't remember that world from before, that world she used to belong to - she thinks it's better that way). "It's okay," he says, turning to her and smiling, but the smile quite doesn't reach his eyes, and suddenly she's afraid of this stranger - where's the boy that used to hold her hand so shyly and whose smile was her entire world? - but she takes a deep breath, breathes out, and tightens her grip on his hand. "Yes."
It will be okay, because I have you. Even if you've changed, for the better or the worse, I'll still follow you anywhere you go.
--
Title: Canvas
Rating: PG (for slightly disturbing themes?)
Pairings: None.
Summary: He's a painter of the finest artworks.
It's a gloriously blank canvas, perfect for him to paint his masterpiece on - now he just needs the tools, and they are easily supplied.
That night, a demon's laughter echoes through the darkness, with only the cold, uncaring moon there to hear it.
He's very satisfied with the painting, but he thinks it's lacking something - the splash of vibrant vermillion against the stark white is wonderful, but he needs an element of darkness in there somewhere, though any sane person would say this was dark enough. Ah, of course... why did he not think of that before? He smiles, a smile that is razorsharp and tinted with the edges of madness, and sets out to gather his materials.
That night, a blanket of death swept through an unnamed town, and a Family mourns, unknowing.
Stepping back, he admires the work, his finest so far - oh, the contrast of the red against white, and those empty eyes... Laughter bubbles up in his throat, and he dances among the bodies, unable to stop, any semblance of sanity gone (but then again, was he really ever sane? Not since those nasty, horrible people had first reached for him with their cold, cold hands and their twisted, sick smiles--)
He waltzes among the puppets with their cut strings, with madness as his partner.
--
In other news, summer break is nearly over - almost time to return to those stifling days of boredom and studying. And this year will be the worst.
Rating: G
Pairings: Implied pairing of ?/? Make of it what you will.
Summary: She'd follow him anywhere.
He reaches out to her, beckoning for her to join him. She takes his hand and steps closer, joining him by his side as they watch their world crumble around them. This is the only world she's ever known, of blood and smoke and betrayal - this is the world he helped destroy then rebuild only to destroy again (she doesn't remember that world from before, that world she used to belong to - she thinks it's better that way). "It's okay," he says, turning to her and smiling, but the smile quite doesn't reach his eyes, and suddenly she's afraid of this stranger - where's the boy that used to hold her hand so shyly and whose smile was her entire world? - but she takes a deep breath, breathes out, and tightens her grip on his hand. "Yes."
It will be okay, because I have you. Even if you've changed, for the better or the worse, I'll still follow you anywhere you go.
--
Title: Canvas
Rating: PG (for slightly disturbing themes?)
Pairings: None.
Summary: He's a painter of the finest artworks.
It's a gloriously blank canvas, perfect for him to paint his masterpiece on - now he just needs the tools, and they are easily supplied.
That night, a demon's laughter echoes through the darkness, with only the cold, uncaring moon there to hear it.
He's very satisfied with the painting, but he thinks it's lacking something - the splash of vibrant vermillion against the stark white is wonderful, but he needs an element of darkness in there somewhere, though any sane person would say this was dark enough. Ah, of course... why did he not think of that before? He smiles, a smile that is razorsharp and tinted with the edges of madness, and sets out to gather his materials.
That night, a blanket of death swept through an unnamed town, and a Family mourns, unknowing.
Stepping back, he admires the work, his finest so far - oh, the contrast of the red against white, and those empty eyes... Laughter bubbles up in his throat, and he dances among the bodies, unable to stop, any semblance of sanity gone (but then again, was he really ever sane? Not since those nasty, horrible people had first reached for him with their cold, cold hands and their twisted, sick smiles--)
He waltzes among the puppets with their cut strings, with madness as his partner.
--
In other news, summer break is nearly over - almost time to return to those stifling days of boredom and studying. And this year will be the worst.
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The first one sounds like Chrome and Mukuro. O.O
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I wish I could write something concrete for once. I need to get rid of these plot bunnies in my head, but I have no idea how to start.
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I started off with really short fics and been trying to write more and more each time. ^_^" Sometimes things just don't need to be long though so don't worry if it feels finished but is < 500 words.
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