DGM Drabbles D:
Ours is a Love | Lavi/Kanda | 800+ words
1) Ours is a love so insecure.
Lavi was never a womanizer. He was forward, childish, and obvious when he found women attractive, but he wasn't a womanizer. Most of the redhead's actions comprised of flirting; occasionally, it was more than just words. It wasn't something that happened often, and Kanda liked to believe that it did not pull at his dormant sense of outrage when it did.
The only thing that concerned Kanda laid in Lavi's inevitable return, and his routine snide remark of the redhead's failure at seduction. Lavi laughed, always laughed because he never took things to heart. The man repeatedly claimed that he was fine with the rejections because he had Kanda waiting for him. Of course, Kanda never took that well.
They would blow out the melting candle and retire for the evening, Lavi's callused hand seeking Kanda's toned arm. Only one bed ever needed to be remade when day broke.
It was when Lavi didn't return to their shared inn room in the eves of the morning that Kanda accused him of shirking his duties. During those chilling mornings, just before dawn broke, Kanda sat awake by the dying embers of the fireplace, polishing Mugen with the glow of the waning moon. The hour before dawn was when Lavi quietly returned to the inn room, spot Kanda's glossy hair reflecting moonbeams and made his way to the Japanese man. Always, Lavi would be clean, having bathed during his midnight escapades, washing away the dirt and grim of the day. It did nothing to rid the lingering scent of violets from Lavi's hair.
Lithe arms would envelope Kanda and an affectionate question whispered, "Why are you awake?"
A hand found its way tugging tangled strands of ebony loose, and Kanda would stop him not with his blade but with the ice laced in his tone.
"Get off me," Kanda gritted, his bark eyes sharp and unforgiving.
Immediately put off, Lavi's adoration always melted into one of cheer. "Whatever you say, Yu."
It would be weeks, possibly months before they would speak to one another. When they finally did, Kanda never asked where Lavi went and Lavi never explained.
2) Ours is a love so fragile.
"Do you trust me?" Lavi asked Kanda in the darkness.
With honestly that he only possessed when shrouded by the night, Kanda uttered, "I don't know."
The humming silence that followed beckoned them to sleep with night's sweet lullaby. Just when Kanda tittered on the edge of sleep, Lavi shifted on the bed to push himself up. He moved the quilt aside, forfeiting it to Kanda and stood, his feet chilling immediately upon meeting the stone floor.
"Where are you going?" Kanda asked sleepily, turning on his side, to Lavi's side.
"Nowhere," Lavi whispered, careful to not disturb Kanda as he dressed himself, first his pants, then his shirt.
"Lavi?"
The man in question buckled his leather belt and slipped on his exorcist coat, the rustle of heavy fabric echoing in the quiet room.
"Thank you for waking me," Lavi explained, stepping into his boots.
3) Ours is a love so tragic.
They could not be together; it just wasn't possible. Circumstances made them an impossibility because love stories are supposed to end with the tagline: 'happily ever after.' In all logic, their love should not have ever manifested itself from butterfly touches and sidelong glances.
They were only together when cloaked by Mistress Darkness in the deafening nothing with only sighs of relief and whispers of lust. Under the frost of Madam Morning, one hand tangled in another, warm, damp and shaking.
Sometimes, when Kanda woke and found Lavi attached to him like a koala bear, he wanted to say it. Even though he knew that in the end, it wouldn't work out and they wouldn't get their happy ending like in all the fairy tales he never liked, he still wanted to say it just so Lavi knew.
And then, Kanda Yu died in battle, just like he had always imagined. He had lost count of how many Akuma he killed, only knowing for certain that there was at least one Noah that he permanently eliminated from this plane. If he counted the other from so long ago, perhaps he could say two. He laid on the ground in a large puddle of ruby, his once luscious raven hair stuck to his cheeks with his blood as adhesive. He heard struggle and death echoing, and momentarily wondered which side was winning. And then, briefly, he wondered whether the ginger-haired man was still alive...
For Lavi, he lived because his priority was to live. So he fought and got hurt and fought and lost an arm and fought and begged the God he never believed in to keep him alive because he needed to keep History alive. When it was over, when the event he lived through ended, he counted the bodies, methodically recorded past events of an undocumented history and discarded 49.
Resting for the Wicked [Exam] | Lavi/Allen | AU | 450+ words
The clock ticked and tocked, making the only sound save the whirl of an ever-comforting laptop fan. Allen blinked at the warm glow of his computer screen and then back at the notebook in front of him. The page before him was covered with numbers, Greek letters, and mathematical symbols, and he was only half-done with his mock exam. There was something about staying up until two in the morning, studying for a test he dreaded to take, and a class he didn't even like, that unsettled him.
Heaving a sigh, Allen looked up the next problem, and began his attempt to solve for the expected value of beta_hat and whether it was his best estimator.
And then the door to his room burst open and who else but his red-haired housemate would come into his room at two in the morning.
"Allen!"
"What are you still doing up?" Allen asked incredulously. "Don't you have class at 8?"
Lavi shrugged, grinning, "I saw your light still on, and thought I'd check up on you. Still studying hard?"
"Yes, now go to bed; I have an exam in seven hours that I need to prepare for," Allen muttered, returning to his practice test.
It was less than a moment later when Allen found Lavi hovering behind him, leaning over to observe Allen's working. The white haired boy stopped, frowned, and continued to work, ignoring the redhead and his too heavy cologne.
At least Allen tried to ignore Lavi and his cologne. Only Lavi was still hovering, and not moving, and Allen was extremely aware of the fact that he was over his shoulder. The studious student ran over his options, and then closed his eyes and sighed exasperated.
"I can't study if you're hovering like this."
"Oh?" Lavi asked, intrigued.
"Yes. Now get out." And then, to Allen's horror, he heard his laptop shut down. His eyes snapped opened and he gaped for a moment before realizing who turned off his computer. "Lavi! I was--mmphf!"
"Shhh," Lavi shushed him, clamping a hand over Allen's mouth. "You'll wake the others."
Allen glared darkly at the man, who forcibly tugged him out of his chair and dragged him over to his bed. His single-person bed. Which Lavi also decided to climb into.
"What are--"
"Sleep," Lavi commanded, turning off Allen's lamp, and snuggling into the bed with a small sigh.
"But--"
"You won't test well if you stay up all night cramming; now, sleep."
Allen frowned in the darkness, but knew Lavi was right, and resigned himself to the comfort of his mattress. Only... there was one more thing.
"Lavi?"
"Yeah?"
"Why are you in my bed?"
"To make sure you sleep."
"Go back to your own room."
"Make me."
It took Allen two minutes to kick Lavi out of his room, but when he finally got in bed, he easily fell asleep with a smile on his lips.
1) Ours is a love so insecure.
Lavi was never a womanizer. He was forward, childish, and obvious when he found women attractive, but he wasn't a womanizer. Most of the redhead's actions comprised of flirting; occasionally, it was more than just words. It wasn't something that happened often, and Kanda liked to believe that it did not pull at his dormant sense of outrage when it did.
The only thing that concerned Kanda laid in Lavi's inevitable return, and his routine snide remark of the redhead's failure at seduction. Lavi laughed, always laughed because he never took things to heart. The man repeatedly claimed that he was fine with the rejections because he had Kanda waiting for him. Of course, Kanda never took that well.
They would blow out the melting candle and retire for the evening, Lavi's callused hand seeking Kanda's toned arm. Only one bed ever needed to be remade when day broke.
It was when Lavi didn't return to their shared inn room in the eves of the morning that Kanda accused him of shirking his duties. During those chilling mornings, just before dawn broke, Kanda sat awake by the dying embers of the fireplace, polishing Mugen with the glow of the waning moon. The hour before dawn was when Lavi quietly returned to the inn room, spot Kanda's glossy hair reflecting moonbeams and made his way to the Japanese man. Always, Lavi would be clean, having bathed during his midnight escapades, washing away the dirt and grim of the day. It did nothing to rid the lingering scent of violets from Lavi's hair.
Lithe arms would envelope Kanda and an affectionate question whispered, "Why are you awake?"
A hand found its way tugging tangled strands of ebony loose, and Kanda would stop him not with his blade but with the ice laced in his tone.
"Get off me," Kanda gritted, his bark eyes sharp and unforgiving.
Immediately put off, Lavi's adoration always melted into one of cheer. "Whatever you say, Yu."
It would be weeks, possibly months before they would speak to one another. When they finally did, Kanda never asked where Lavi went and Lavi never explained.
2) Ours is a love so fragile.
"Do you trust me?" Lavi asked Kanda in the darkness.
With honestly that he only possessed when shrouded by the night, Kanda uttered, "I don't know."
The humming silence that followed beckoned them to sleep with night's sweet lullaby. Just when Kanda tittered on the edge of sleep, Lavi shifted on the bed to push himself up. He moved the quilt aside, forfeiting it to Kanda and stood, his feet chilling immediately upon meeting the stone floor.
"Where are you going?" Kanda asked sleepily, turning on his side, to Lavi's side.
"Nowhere," Lavi whispered, careful to not disturb Kanda as he dressed himself, first his pants, then his shirt.
"Lavi?"
The man in question buckled his leather belt and slipped on his exorcist coat, the rustle of heavy fabric echoing in the quiet room.
"Thank you for waking me," Lavi explained, stepping into his boots.
3) Ours is a love so tragic.
They could not be together; it just wasn't possible. Circumstances made them an impossibility because love stories are supposed to end with the tagline: 'happily ever after.' In all logic, their love should not have ever manifested itself from butterfly touches and sidelong glances.
They were only together when cloaked by Mistress Darkness in the deafening nothing with only sighs of relief and whispers of lust. Under the frost of Madam Morning, one hand tangled in another, warm, damp and shaking.
Sometimes, when Kanda woke and found Lavi attached to him like a koala bear, he wanted to say it. Even though he knew that in the end, it wouldn't work out and they wouldn't get their happy ending like in all the fairy tales he never liked, he still wanted to say it just so Lavi knew.
And then, Kanda Yu died in battle, just like he had always imagined. He had lost count of how many Akuma he killed, only knowing for certain that there was at least one Noah that he permanently eliminated from this plane. If he counted the other from so long ago, perhaps he could say two. He laid on the ground in a large puddle of ruby, his once luscious raven hair stuck to his cheeks with his blood as adhesive. He heard struggle and death echoing, and momentarily wondered which side was winning. And then, briefly, he wondered whether the ginger-haired man was still alive...
For Lavi, he lived because his priority was to live. So he fought and got hurt and fought and lost an arm and fought and begged the God he never believed in to keep him alive because he needed to keep History alive. When it was over, when the event he lived through ended, he counted the bodies, methodically recorded past events of an undocumented history and discarded 49.
Resting for the Wicked [Exam] | Lavi/Allen | AU | 450+ words
The clock ticked and tocked, making the only sound save the whirl of an ever-comforting laptop fan. Allen blinked at the warm glow of his computer screen and then back at the notebook in front of him. The page before him was covered with numbers, Greek letters, and mathematical symbols, and he was only half-done with his mock exam. There was something about staying up until two in the morning, studying for a test he dreaded to take, and a class he didn't even like, that unsettled him.
Heaving a sigh, Allen looked up the next problem, and began his attempt to solve for the expected value of beta_hat and whether it was his best estimator.
And then the door to his room burst open and who else but his red-haired housemate would come into his room at two in the morning.
"Allen!"
"What are you still doing up?" Allen asked incredulously. "Don't you have class at 8?"
Lavi shrugged, grinning, "I saw your light still on, and thought I'd check up on you. Still studying hard?"
"Yes, now go to bed; I have an exam in seven hours that I need to prepare for," Allen muttered, returning to his practice test.
It was less than a moment later when Allen found Lavi hovering behind him, leaning over to observe Allen's working. The white haired boy stopped, frowned, and continued to work, ignoring the redhead and his too heavy cologne.
At least Allen tried to ignore Lavi and his cologne. Only Lavi was still hovering, and not moving, and Allen was extremely aware of the fact that he was over his shoulder. The studious student ran over his options, and then closed his eyes and sighed exasperated.
"I can't study if you're hovering like this."
"Oh?" Lavi asked, intrigued.
"Yes. Now get out." And then, to Allen's horror, he heard his laptop shut down. His eyes snapped opened and he gaped for a moment before realizing who turned off his computer. "Lavi! I was--mmphf!"
"Shhh," Lavi shushed him, clamping a hand over Allen's mouth. "You'll wake the others."
Allen glared darkly at the man, who forcibly tugged him out of his chair and dragged him over to his bed. His single-person bed. Which Lavi also decided to climb into.
"What are--"
"Sleep," Lavi commanded, turning off Allen's lamp, and snuggling into the bed with a small sigh.
"But--"
"You won't test well if you stay up all night cramming; now, sleep."
Allen frowned in the darkness, but knew Lavi was right, and resigned himself to the comfort of his mattress. Only... there was one more thing.
"Lavi?"
"Yeah?"
"Why are you in my bed?"
"To make sure you sleep."
"Go back to your own room."
"Make me."
It took Allen two minutes to kick Lavi out of his room, but when he finally got in bed, he easily fell asleep with a smile on his lips.