[✐fanfic] SO MUCH FIC
Fanfic dump! Not including fills for the ygo_rare_pair request meme, for which I want to write pretty much everything buuuut that'd just be unfair. XD Some of these are stuff I'm considering entering in this round's contest, however.
Intentshipping (Yami no Bakura x Kaiba Mokuba)
Mokuba looks up from the computer as the door bursts open, lightning illuminating an ominous silhouette in the hall.
“We’ve got video cameras every three meters,” he points out simply; he has responsibilities to attend to and being interrupted like this so often has really gotten obnoxious. Bad enough when he was a little kid, but he’s fourteen now. He’s practically an adult, and this has to stop.
“Don’t think you frighten me,” purrs the silhouette, and Mokuba realizes he recognizes the would-be assailant. Yuugi’s friend - no - there was something weird going on with this one once, he remembers. Something about a -
The next lightning flash illuminates a shock of gold, and Mokuba automatically tabs over to the KaibaCorp airline homepage. Not taking his eyes off the figure, his fingers book a flight to Egypt for the next day. His brother will likely be needing it.
“Are you going to come in?” Mokuba finally asks; the figure chuckles, amused.
“Can’t I just visit an old friend?” it asks. “I was in the area and decided to check up on my old would-be host. This one has lost some of its...potential. Years of independence have made it uncooperative.”
Mokuba notices the gold is digging into the figure’s chest, and shivers. “Well, here I am,” he points out, texting Isono from the computer screen now that the tickets are booked. His brother’s in a business meeting, and only their right-hand man will be granted access. His assailant’s timed the attack well, but Mokuba hasn’t spent the past four years learning nothing. “Isn’t this the part where you whisk me away?”
The figure shrugs. “I just wanted to prove I could,” it hisses as alarms ring out; even in the dim lighting Mokuba sees a wicked, flash-white smile twist across its face. “Perhaps we’ll meet again.”
Then it’s gone, as suddenly as it came; Mokuba can hear the startled, pained yells of guards from down the hall, sees a flash of golden light, shivers again. He pulls up Yuugi’s number on the computer, then Jounouchi’s, then Anzu’s and Honda’s in turn, and hits “conference call.”
“Hi, everyone,” he says into his microphone, the lightning this time illuminating the badge on his chest: MOKUBA KAIBA, CHAIRMAN, TECHNOLOGY DIVISION. “There’s something you should know.”
Imoutoshipping (Kawai Shizuka x Bakura Amane)
“I was in the hospital a long time once, too,” Amane admits as Shizuka squints in the bright sunlight, still adjusting to the surgery’s success. “They had to pretty much put my hand back together. Want to see?”
This is just like her friend: obsessed with everything morbid, the exact opposite of Shizuka herself. “I-I’m fine,” she defers, feeling a little sheepish over how little of this world, exactly, she does want to see now that she can. She’d thought it’d be full of wonders, and it was. But it was also full of fear, and darkness, and pain - and she’s had enough of all three.
Amane, however, remains undisturbed by her topic of choice. “Still, it’s a miracle I’m alive,” she remarks, pulling out a lollipop and sticking it into her mouth; Shizuka watches her friend’s lips purse around the stick, then looks away. She really wishes she hadn’t started noticing...that sort of thing...now that her eyes are better. “When I grow up I’m going to be a safe driver, not like all these jerks who tear into intersections without a second glance!”
“Y-your brother,” Shizuka ventures, wishing she’d just stop stammering already. Amane had stammered, too, when they’d first met - the transfer student and the quiet girl in the back of the class. Of course, then they’d gotten to know each other, and the floodgates had burst. “Was he...there...?”
Amane looks away. “It’s thanks to him I’m alive,” she admits with a casual shrug, as if she holds this kind of conversation all the time. “We’d been having this big fight - I don’t even remember what about, some comic we both wanted or something. So he hopped right into the front seat of the car and stuck his tongue out at me. If it’d been me, there - “ She shivers. “I’m still a heck of a lot shorter than him.”
“How did he --?” Shizuka asks, unable to stop herself: it’s so touching, the elder brother unknowingly rescuing the little sister. She can imagine the scenario so well.
Amane shrugs again. “That’s the weird thing. There wasn’t any damage to the car around him at all. Like something’d just- wrapped him up in a bubble, kept him safe. Nobody gets it, even now.”
Looking backwards, she grins. “But I do remember him shouting my name. Maybe that’s why I’m okay. Because whatever looked out for my brother remembered to help me out, too.”
Shizuka shivers and feels a glow in her chest at the same time. It’s an unsettling combination, so she hunches closer to her friend. Amane, chuckling, throws an arm around her shoulders.
“No big deal, no big deal!” she insists, waving her hand in front of Shizuka’s face - a hand still ripped and swirled and scarred inside from surgery.
Shizuka squeaks and pulls away as Amane nearly bends over laughing. “Made you look!” she crows, and Shizuka does her best to pout teasingly in reply. Her friend doesn’t mean anything by it. Maybe she’s nervous Shizuka’s so sensitive, and it’s amazing how Amane can be so brave. Just like Shizuka’s brother. Amane, in turn, is a sister her brother can be proud of protecting: laughing in the face of fear.
Shizuka takes a deep breath and tries to catch her friend’s wrist for a better look, ignoring the flutters in her stomach from the softness of Amane’s hand. She’s got to be strong, like Amane. So she’ll look into the darkness too.
For today, your drabble challenge word is panic. (At the Disco is optional.)
(Papyrus's AU; will eventually be crossposted to touzoku_kakumei)
Diabound woke to the sound of her person cursing.
Shifting immediately back into human form, she grabbed her plain white dress and tugged it on over a tousled head, already padding over to the riverbank where Bakura stood splashing water on herself, muttering swears against the gods (but mostly goddesses). The taller girl was naked, her own plain dress discarded among the reeds, its skirt speckled with --
Yelping, Diabound pounced.
“Where bleeding, Bakura?” she demanded, looking the girl over, grabbing her and turning her around; Bakura turned clumsily, the Nile sloshing about their ankles as they danced their awkward dance among the silt and the waves. “How’d it happen? Who snuck up? Didn’t hear anything! Who did it --”
Bakura sighed, rested a hand on her companion’s head and tried to pull away. “Wasn’t anybody but myself,” she groaned; Diabound opened her mouth to demand exactly what dangerous thing her person had been up to, but the thief silenced her with a shake of her head. “It’s a human thing. A woman thing.” She snorted. “How about that. Haven’t even made it to the palace, but I’m already ripe to be wed.”
“Wed?” Diabound frowned. “That’s - where live together, and make egg...”
She backed up, letting Bakura finish washing up as Diabound contemplated this explanation, such as it was. She shifted her tongue, flicked it thoughtfully, tasted blood and earthiness and Bakura. She thought some more.
Finally she looked over, as Bakura began dragging her dress through the water in a vain attempt to rinse out some of the brownish stain. “Laying egg soon?” she asked.
Bakura started, stumbled in the mud, and gave a nervous laugh. “Not if I can help it,” she admitted, and Diabound’s shoulders dropped. “Don’t talk about stuff like that, all right? It’s one more thing that’s been taken from us.”
Diabound nodded, though she didn’t really understand. Bakura’s word was enough for her.
“But really,” Bakura was continuing with a chuckle, “I haven’t educated you properly, have I? Never going to pass for human even with those arms and legs.”
She tossed Diabound the dress. “See what you can do with that,” Bakura ordered gruffly, heading back up the riverbank. “I’m gonna lie back down. Gods-dammit, it hurts.....”
“Don’t get seen,” Diabound remarked automatically, turning the garment over in her hands. When humans were ready to make eggs, the women bled. And it wasn’t comfortable, either.
Diabound sighed, and crouched down in the water to dip the dress. She’d been with Bakura for years now, but there was always more to learn.
Miho and Rebecca
“Miho has always wanted to live in America!” sighs what has to be Domino - no, Japan - no, the entire known universe’s absolute biggest airhead ever, ignoring Rebecca’s sighs. “The glamour, the excitement!! The sunny beaches and palms!! The bustling cities!”
“America’s enormous,” Rebecca snaps, unable to keep her distaste from staining the inside of her mouth. How could her Yuugi, her darling, do this to her? How could he go off to take his place in the next tournament and leave her babysitting this - this --
She glowers over the tops of her glasses at her companion, a friend of her friends’ -- all of whom are going to pay for this exasperation, if Rebecca has anything to say about it. It’s been barely half an hour, and already she’s heard three failed attempts at English, five giggles, and four remarks about her hairstyle, clothing, nails, complexion, and/or stature - which leaves out the three “you really are a child genius, Becky-chan!” variations she’s suffered through for performing simple tasks like calculating the change needed for their tournament tickets in her head. Why couldn’t she have been invited to duel, too? Kaiba performs in all of his own tournaments. Why was it some huge deal if KaibaCorp employees ended up on the tournament roster...
“Ooohh, Miho’s so excited! Her first chance to see everyone play!” squeals her companion, and Rebecca whirls on her, ponytails (“so perky, Becky-chan! So childish, and yet stylish!”) swaying with the movement’s crispness.
“Duel,” she snaps, not caring if her voice gets raised, not caring who looks over or what the other girl does in reply. “It’s not play, it’s duel. And to you, it’s not ‘Becky-chan’, either - it’s ‘Rebecca’, or ‘Miss Hopkins’! I have a college degree and I’ve placed first in tens of venues just like this one -- or bigger! And, for that matter--”
She takes a breath. “It’s stupid to say things like ‘you really are a child’ or ‘how cute’ to someone who’s only twelve years old. Of course I’m little! I haven’t had time to grow! And if you have a problem with that, well, I guess you can just sit on your own and fawn over somebody else, because I only associate with people willing to look beyond the physical! So don’t talk to me about hair, or clothes, or nails, or b-boys...” God damn that faltering. “Because they’re really not a priority for me, nor should they be with anyone with two lumps of sense to rub together!”
Having gotten pretty shrill by the end of her tirade, Rebecca looks around to discover their section of the stands essentially deserted. Oh well. Let them go. Nobody would have lasted long sitting near this moron, anyway.
“Miho just thought you looked pretty, Becky-chan,” says the other girl with a tiny smile, tilting her head - and outright beaming. Rebecca looks away, muttering words a girl her age shouldn’t know, let alone use. Why, she asked the universe at large. Why?
Why had this girl been the first person to ever call her that?
It was going to be the longest tournament ever.
Intentshipping (Yami no Bakura x Kaiba Mokuba)
Mokuba looks up from the computer as the door bursts open, lightning illuminating an ominous silhouette in the hall.
“We’ve got video cameras every three meters,” he points out simply; he has responsibilities to attend to and being interrupted like this so often has really gotten obnoxious. Bad enough when he was a little kid, but he’s fourteen now. He’s practically an adult, and this has to stop.
“Don’t think you frighten me,” purrs the silhouette, and Mokuba realizes he recognizes the would-be assailant. Yuugi’s friend - no - there was something weird going on with this one once, he remembers. Something about a -
The next lightning flash illuminates a shock of gold, and Mokuba automatically tabs over to the KaibaCorp airline homepage. Not taking his eyes off the figure, his fingers book a flight to Egypt for the next day. His brother will likely be needing it.
“Are you going to come in?” Mokuba finally asks; the figure chuckles, amused.
“Can’t I just visit an old friend?” it asks. “I was in the area and decided to check up on my old would-be host. This one has lost some of its...potential. Years of independence have made it uncooperative.”
Mokuba notices the gold is digging into the figure’s chest, and shivers. “Well, here I am,” he points out, texting Isono from the computer screen now that the tickets are booked. His brother’s in a business meeting, and only their right-hand man will be granted access. His assailant’s timed the attack well, but Mokuba hasn’t spent the past four years learning nothing. “Isn’t this the part where you whisk me away?”
The figure shrugs. “I just wanted to prove I could,” it hisses as alarms ring out; even in the dim lighting Mokuba sees a wicked, flash-white smile twist across its face. “Perhaps we’ll meet again.”
Then it’s gone, as suddenly as it came; Mokuba can hear the startled, pained yells of guards from down the hall, sees a flash of golden light, shivers again. He pulls up Yuugi’s number on the computer, then Jounouchi’s, then Anzu’s and Honda’s in turn, and hits “conference call.”
“Hi, everyone,” he says into his microphone, the lightning this time illuminating the badge on his chest: MOKUBA KAIBA, CHAIRMAN, TECHNOLOGY DIVISION. “There’s something you should know.”
Imoutoshipping (Kawai Shizuka x Bakura Amane)
“I was in the hospital a long time once, too,” Amane admits as Shizuka squints in the bright sunlight, still adjusting to the surgery’s success. “They had to pretty much put my hand back together. Want to see?”
This is just like her friend: obsessed with everything morbid, the exact opposite of Shizuka herself. “I-I’m fine,” she defers, feeling a little sheepish over how little of this world, exactly, she does want to see now that she can. She’d thought it’d be full of wonders, and it was. But it was also full of fear, and darkness, and pain - and she’s had enough of all three.
Amane, however, remains undisturbed by her topic of choice. “Still, it’s a miracle I’m alive,” she remarks, pulling out a lollipop and sticking it into her mouth; Shizuka watches her friend’s lips purse around the stick, then looks away. She really wishes she hadn’t started noticing...that sort of thing...now that her eyes are better. “When I grow up I’m going to be a safe driver, not like all these jerks who tear into intersections without a second glance!”
“Y-your brother,” Shizuka ventures, wishing she’d just stop stammering already. Amane had stammered, too, when they’d first met - the transfer student and the quiet girl in the back of the class. Of course, then they’d gotten to know each other, and the floodgates had burst. “Was he...there...?”
Amane looks away. “It’s thanks to him I’m alive,” she admits with a casual shrug, as if she holds this kind of conversation all the time. “We’d been having this big fight - I don’t even remember what about, some comic we both wanted or something. So he hopped right into the front seat of the car and stuck his tongue out at me. If it’d been me, there - “ She shivers. “I’m still a heck of a lot shorter than him.”
“How did he --?” Shizuka asks, unable to stop herself: it’s so touching, the elder brother unknowingly rescuing the little sister. She can imagine the scenario so well.
Amane shrugs again. “That’s the weird thing. There wasn’t any damage to the car around him at all. Like something’d just- wrapped him up in a bubble, kept him safe. Nobody gets it, even now.”
Looking backwards, she grins. “But I do remember him shouting my name. Maybe that’s why I’m okay. Because whatever looked out for my brother remembered to help me out, too.”
Shizuka shivers and feels a glow in her chest at the same time. It’s an unsettling combination, so she hunches closer to her friend. Amane, chuckling, throws an arm around her shoulders.
“No big deal, no big deal!” she insists, waving her hand in front of Shizuka’s face - a hand still ripped and swirled and scarred inside from surgery.
Shizuka squeaks and pulls away as Amane nearly bends over laughing. “Made you look!” she crows, and Shizuka does her best to pout teasingly in reply. Her friend doesn’t mean anything by it. Maybe she’s nervous Shizuka’s so sensitive, and it’s amazing how Amane can be so brave. Just like Shizuka’s brother. Amane, in turn, is a sister her brother can be proud of protecting: laughing in the face of fear.
Shizuka takes a deep breath and tries to catch her friend’s wrist for a better look, ignoring the flutters in her stomach from the softness of Amane’s hand. She’s got to be strong, like Amane. So she’ll look into the darkness too.
For today, your drabble challenge word is panic. (At the Disco is optional.)
(Papyrus's AU; will eventually be crossposted to touzoku_kakumei)
Diabound woke to the sound of her person cursing.
Shifting immediately back into human form, she grabbed her plain white dress and tugged it on over a tousled head, already padding over to the riverbank where Bakura stood splashing water on herself, muttering swears against the gods (but mostly goddesses). The taller girl was naked, her own plain dress discarded among the reeds, its skirt speckled with --
Yelping, Diabound pounced.
“Where bleeding, Bakura?” she demanded, looking the girl over, grabbing her and turning her around; Bakura turned clumsily, the Nile sloshing about their ankles as they danced their awkward dance among the silt and the waves. “How’d it happen? Who snuck up? Didn’t hear anything! Who did it --”
Bakura sighed, rested a hand on her companion’s head and tried to pull away. “Wasn’t anybody but myself,” she groaned; Diabound opened her mouth to demand exactly what dangerous thing her person had been up to, but the thief silenced her with a shake of her head. “It’s a human thing. A woman thing.” She snorted. “How about that. Haven’t even made it to the palace, but I’m already ripe to be wed.”
“Wed?” Diabound frowned. “That’s - where live together, and make egg...”
She backed up, letting Bakura finish washing up as Diabound contemplated this explanation, such as it was. She shifted her tongue, flicked it thoughtfully, tasted blood and earthiness and Bakura. She thought some more.
Finally she looked over, as Bakura began dragging her dress through the water in a vain attempt to rinse out some of the brownish stain. “Laying egg soon?” she asked.
Bakura started, stumbled in the mud, and gave a nervous laugh. “Not if I can help it,” she admitted, and Diabound’s shoulders dropped. “Don’t talk about stuff like that, all right? It’s one more thing that’s been taken from us.”
Diabound nodded, though she didn’t really understand. Bakura’s word was enough for her.
“But really,” Bakura was continuing with a chuckle, “I haven’t educated you properly, have I? Never going to pass for human even with those arms and legs.”
She tossed Diabound the dress. “See what you can do with that,” Bakura ordered gruffly, heading back up the riverbank. “I’m gonna lie back down. Gods-dammit, it hurts.....”
“Don’t get seen,” Diabound remarked automatically, turning the garment over in her hands. When humans were ready to make eggs, the women bled. And it wasn’t comfortable, either.
Diabound sighed, and crouched down in the water to dip the dress. She’d been with Bakura for years now, but there was always more to learn.
Miho and Rebecca
“Miho has always wanted to live in America!” sighs what has to be Domino - no, Japan - no, the entire known universe’s absolute biggest airhead ever, ignoring Rebecca’s sighs. “The glamour, the excitement!! The sunny beaches and palms!! The bustling cities!”
“America’s enormous,” Rebecca snaps, unable to keep her distaste from staining the inside of her mouth. How could her Yuugi, her darling, do this to her? How could he go off to take his place in the next tournament and leave her babysitting this - this --
She glowers over the tops of her glasses at her companion, a friend of her friends’ -- all of whom are going to pay for this exasperation, if Rebecca has anything to say about it. It’s been barely half an hour, and already she’s heard three failed attempts at English, five giggles, and four remarks about her hairstyle, clothing, nails, complexion, and/or stature - which leaves out the three “you really are a child genius, Becky-chan!” variations she’s suffered through for performing simple tasks like calculating the change needed for their tournament tickets in her head. Why couldn’t she have been invited to duel, too? Kaiba performs in all of his own tournaments. Why was it some huge deal if KaibaCorp employees ended up on the tournament roster...
“Ooohh, Miho’s so excited! Her first chance to see everyone play!” squeals her companion, and Rebecca whirls on her, ponytails (“so perky, Becky-chan! So childish, and yet stylish!”) swaying with the movement’s crispness.
“Duel,” she snaps, not caring if her voice gets raised, not caring who looks over or what the other girl does in reply. “It’s not play, it’s duel. And to you, it’s not ‘Becky-chan’, either - it’s ‘Rebecca’, or ‘Miss Hopkins’! I have a college degree and I’ve placed first in tens of venues just like this one -- or bigger! And, for that matter--”
She takes a breath. “It’s stupid to say things like ‘you really are a child’ or ‘how cute’ to someone who’s only twelve years old. Of course I’m little! I haven’t had time to grow! And if you have a problem with that, well, I guess you can just sit on your own and fawn over somebody else, because I only associate with people willing to look beyond the physical! So don’t talk to me about hair, or clothes, or nails, or b-boys...” God damn that faltering. “Because they’re really not a priority for me, nor should they be with anyone with two lumps of sense to rub together!”
Having gotten pretty shrill by the end of her tirade, Rebecca looks around to discover their section of the stands essentially deserted. Oh well. Let them go. Nobody would have lasted long sitting near this moron, anyway.
“Miho just thought you looked pretty, Becky-chan,” says the other girl with a tiny smile, tilting her head - and outright beaming. Rebecca looks away, muttering words a girl her age shouldn’t know, let alone use. Why, she asked the universe at large. Why?
Why had this girl been the first person to ever call her that?
It was going to be the longest tournament ever.