Sabtu, 19 Juli 2014

IF I KNEW THEN WHAT I KNOW NOW


Author: What You See in the Shadows
Status: Ongoing
Genre: Gen, Supernatural, Family
Rated: T
Pairing: John/Mary

Summary:
Given an opportunity to change his family's destiny, Dean Winchester finds himself back in 1983 as his four year old self, yet with his adult memories still intact. But can he alter the events of that tragic night? And if so, will young Dean, his family, and Castiel be ready to survive all the evil that destiny has in store for them?

Preview : 

       Dean's eyes flew open and he let out a gasp. The room he was in was lit by a soft glow and seemed vaguely familiar. He was lying in a comfortable bed under soft blankets. Dean took a quick mental stock of himself and was pleased to discover that he could once again feel and move his legs. It no longer hurt to breathe and the rest of his body was not in extreme agony any more. Dean lifted his left arm up to see if the damage had been healed and that's when he realized that something was very wrong.
       His arm was no longer broken and shattered, the skin wasn't torn apart and all his fingers were once more attached. But his arm wasn't his. It couldn't be because it was the size of a small child's arm. Dean pulled up the sleeve of the flannel pajama shirt and pinched the skin. Ouch. Yeah, it was definitely his arm. But what the hell? Frantically, he kicked the covers off of himself and saw that his entire body was now way too tiny to be his own. Dean ran his fingers through hair that was much too long and then down his small face. Oh yeah, something was very wrong.
       Dean hopped out of the bed and looked around the room. There was a dresser, a child sized desk and chair, bookshelves, a toy box, and the bed he'd just been in. The floor was cluttered with toys and a partially completed large floor puzzle. Dean stared at the incomplete picture and realized where he was. His childhood bedroom. He looked back down at himself. He was a child in his childhood bedroom. The pieces were now falling into place.
       "You coulda mentioned that this was part of the deal, Cas." Dean mumbled in a voice that was much younger than it should have been. "Just how the hell am I supposed to stop the crap from hitting the fan when I'm freakin' four years old?!"
He felt fear, anger, anxiety, and about a million other emotions welling up inside of him all at once. Tears burned behind his eyes. Dean swiped them away. Why the hell was he crying? This was far from the worst situation he'd ever been in. Definitely one of the most unusual, but not cry-worthy, that was for sure. Of course he hadn't been a little kid during the other incidents, so that was probably it. But he did have all of his adult memories, so he shouldn't be reacting like this. He couldn't afford it. He had to think and come up with some sort of plan to stop the coming events. Speaking of which…
       Dean walked over to the wall closest to his bedroom door to get a look at the calendar. He wanted to know how much time he had to get ready. He was hoping for at least a week or so. More time would be better, since he needed to come up with a plan, get whatever supplies he'd need, and prepared for the confrontation.
       The boy reached up and flipped the light switch. He squinted as a bright light illuminated his bedroom. Dean saw that the cheerful looking teddy bear calendar for the year of 1983 was already turned to the month of November. And according to the stickers he'd used to mark off days passed, it was the second day.
       Dean's eyes widened and he shook his small head in denial. He didn't have weeks or even days. He had hours at best or possibly just minutes to prevent the tragedy that was about to once again befall his family.


MAY SERIES


ISHIDATE


Author: Returquoise
Status: Complete
Genre: Gen, Friendship
Rated: T
Pairing: None

Summary:
The first thing he noticed was that he felt heavy. He hadn't felt heavy for a long, long time.


Preview : 


He watched, silently, holding the fan in his hands, as Hikaru sleepily placed his black stone on the goban. The boy yawned every few minutes and every time Sai's hold of his fan tightened marginally. He understood that Hikaru was tired but didn't he feel something weird in the air? Why couldn't his pupil feel it?
Sai himself couldn't think anything else but that feeling. Something was going to happen, something that would turn Sai's life (or afterlife as the case may be) upside down.
Sai didn't like that feeling at all. It made him uneasy, the feeling of the impending change. He was happy with Hikaru despite not being able to play his own games, or, indeed, to play against anyone else but Hikaru.
He pointed out his next move and Hikaru placed the white stone obediently.
Sai followed Hikaru's glassy, green-eyed gaze over the board. He was of course thankful of the chance to remain on Earth after his death some thousand years earlier. But that still didn't change the fact that he had to depend on others to place his moves. First it had been Torajirō who all but threw his own existence away to a ghost, and then it had been Hikaru whose attitude was the complete opposite.
Hikaru placed his next move and Sai felt proud of Hikaru. The boy may not have been as accommodating as Torajirō but his skills had grown more. Hikaru had started learning Go from scratch two years ago and here he was; a professional Go player already at the age of fourteen.
Sai tapped the board quietly and went back to watching his pupil.
140 years ago, he thought. Torajirō lent me his body.
Hikaru hadn't given up his own existence but instead, in a way, he had given Sai an existence, one completely separated from Hikaru himself. He had found a way to play people with those magic boxes and in this internet-thing (though Sai had never seen any nets, fishing or otherwise) Sai had been able to use his own name. People had known about his existence (and still knew especially after his game with that man, Tōya Kōyo); he hadn't had to hide so much. He hadn't needed to steal anyone else's name or face. He hadn't been confined in his nonexistence.
If Torajirō existed for my sake, then I existed for Hikaru's sake.
He was thankful to Hikaru for that chance. He was also thankful for that game with that man few weeks ago.
Hikaru played his next move and yawned mightily.
Then Hikaru too will exist for someone else.
Sai bit his lower lip, not because the move was particularly challenging, but because his thoughts moved back to the feeling he had been having since that game.
That person will also… for someone else.
He closed his eyes, gripping the fan tightly.
A thousand years, two thousand years accumulates like that.
The long path that continues to the Hand of God…
He couldn't feel the gentle spring wind through the open window but he knew it existed. He wanted to feel it again; it had been so long since he last felt the wind…
My job is done.
… the feeling that he would disappear.
Sai's eyes widened as he felt faint tingling all over his body. His gaze moved to his hands in his lap and Sai saw they were glowing softly.
"Oh yes, Hikaru", he said, trying to get his student's attention, wanting to say one last thing to him before...
He knew his time was up.
The boy didn't raise his sleepy gaze from the goban.
"Hikaru. Hey Hikaru! Hey?"
He felt tears starting to form in his eyes.
"Can you hear me? Hikaru…" Sai asked, his heart clenching. He knew Hikaru couldn't hear him but he felt he should say it nevertheless.
"It was fu -"
Sai couldn't see clearly anymore, Hikaru's room around him was fading.
Hikaru was fading.
He couldn't feel his lips moving anymore.
He couldn't see or hear anything anymore.
Everything was light.
Sai was light.
And Fujiwara no Sai knew no more.

=======================================================================

MYŌSHU


Status: Complete
Genre: Gen, Friendship
Rated: K+
Pairing: None

Summary:
An unexpected member of the audience in the Hokuto Cup reveals the truth behind Shindō Hikaru's Go skills.
Preview : 

He feels his heart beating in excitement as he clenches his hands tightly in his lap. He can see it; the path to victory. He leans forward in his seat, biting his lip, eyes glued to the screen in the other end of the room.
I know you can see it, Hikaru. Just calm down and play.
9-8
His lips curve into a victorious smile. Hikaru saw it and attacked. Now the young pro just had to follow through with it and he knows it will be hard; this Ko Yeoung-ha is a strong opponent but he isn't too worried. He has complete confidence in Hikaru.
You've grown, Hikaru. He smiles. Your Go has grown as well; I can't wait to play you again.
He lets his gaze follow the stones placed on the goban and he has a hard time trying to keep himself from jumping up and down. His fingers twitch in anticipation and he stills them with a stern thought. Not yet. This is Hikaru's game, Hikaru's Go.
Hikaru is catching up to the Korean with a rapid pace but the other pro isn't giving in at all. The goban is turning into a bloody battlefield and he knows it will be close game. He cannot see who'll emerge as a winner but he knows it will be a well-earned win, no matter whom the victor is.
13-2
He stills and his eyes widen. This is a strong move and extremely hard to counter, at least in this particular situation. It will go into atari if Hikaru tries to retrieve it… and white can use that time to secure territory… It seems Ko Yeoung-ha is a tricky opponent.
He leans back in his chair, lips pursed, contemplating the move.
After that move game turns into the Korean's advantage but it doesn't make the game less interesting. On the contrary, the game moved into a completely different level. He frowns softly. Hikaru is clearly struggling but the game is nearing its end.
He can already see the end result. He smiles softly and feels warmth spreading through him. It's a beautiful game, Hikaru. Sadly, it won't be enough.
His gaze flickers to the other two boards. Tōya Akira's opponent, Irufhang (he really can't keep track of all these weird, foreign names...) resigned and on the third board Yashiro Kiyoharu lost to young Hon Su-Young by 3,5 moku. He remembers clearly the game between young Korean pro, then Kenkyūsei, and Hikaru. It is one of the most beautiful games Hikaru has ever played.
His gaze moves back to Hikaru's game. He flicks open his fan, hiding his smile as the players start to count the territory. Half a moku… You did well, Hikaru.
He can feel the tension among the rest of the audience; he can hear the whispers, asking who won.
"Is it enough? Shindō?"
"How is it going to end?"
He recognizes Hikaru's friends and his lips twitch. He can tell they're awed at their friend's skills in this game and he has the urge to gloat that he had taught Hikaru to play, that Hikaru is his student. But he doesn't, and just smiles behind his pale yellow fan, listening to audience's clapping and exclamations of awe.
It's time we meet again, Hikaru. He chuckles as he rises to his feet, ignoring the more disappointed and annoyed comments from the audience. Besides, Kawai-san is keeping them in control.

ROAD TO DAMASCUS CHRONICLE


Author: Yashodoa
Status: Ongoing
Genre: Adventure, Drama, Romance, Angst,
Rated: T
Pairing: Sephiroth/Cloud, Zack/Aerith

Summary:
This is Cloud's chronicle, of her journey, her determination to fight and win in the end, all in the name for love and her friends. What more can the Planet want from her?

Preview : 

Cloud has a secret, a secret well kept until Zack and Sephiroth found out. From there, their friendship bonded and more. Until they got to Nibelheim, their world turned upside down.
Now, Cloud is on a long journey to find Sephiroth, to rescue or to kill him? That's another secret. A group of rebels, Avalanche, formed on the journey, strange sort of people coming together in a bond like family, each had their own past, their own secrets, and their own sins.
Together, the Avalanchers set a goal, to save the Planet, at first, it was simple, and their archenemy was the ShinRa Co. But, as the time goes on, the farther they traveled down the road, they found it wasn't simply the ShinRa, it was something bigger, something far older and ancient. An eon old grudge.
The world they live on, the world they're striving to save wasn't what they thought it was. It was full of mythical fantasies that no one dared to dream of them ever existing. There are gods and goddess, races that didn't exist existed, guardians and angels.
The Hero isn't what you think, the Villain is not what you think, nothing makes senses then they do. When in the end, everything may seem to be over, but then again, it is not over. Happily ever after doesn't last forever. What more can the Universe give us?
This is Cloud Strife's story.

BONDED


Author: Archdemonlord
Fandom: Alice Academy
Status: Complete
Genre: Angst, Drama, Romance, Humor, Hurt/Comfort
Rated: M
Pairing: Natsume/Mikan

Summary:
The academy's finally getting serious about dealing with Mikan's alices, and the Dangerous Ability Class is getting a new teacher in the bargain.

Preview : 

"Persona's out of commission and in the hospital, and that girl's second alice seems to be awakening," said the shadowed figure behind the desk.
"So, why did you asked for me?" ask the other hidden in the shadows.
"The Dangerous Ability Class needs a new teacher, and that girl needs to be taken care of. That's why," the headmaster calmly said.
"I don't do classes," the shadow snarled.
"You don't, but your partner…"
"You want my partner to handle the class…"
"Yes. And you can handle the girl," the headmaster smugly said.
The shadow quietly thought about the headmaster's proposition.
"I need to talk to my partner about this first," the shadow said before turning to leave, but the headmaster stopped him.
"Before you leave, I want to make this offer more irresistible for you and your partner," the headmaster smirked.
"At your discretion, I'm giving you and your partner unrestricted power and authority around the academy, and in handling the class and the girl."
"I'm sure my partner would like that, but we still need to talk about it," the shadow uttered coldly, before leaving the office.
The headmaster gave a satisfied grin, "Problem solved."

TOCATTA AND FUGUE SERIES


TOCCATA AND FUGUE (PRELUDE)


Author: Claritylore
Fandom: Hannibal
Status: Complete
Genre: Drama, Romance
Rated: M
Pairing: Hannibal/Will

Summary:
Hannibal is an Alpha with superhuman control and, despite the need to claim Will gnawing at him, he will not break. He knows that giving in will be the end of him; on some level, he's always known that Will will be the one to catch him, if he reveals himself. But then Will is courted by another male Alpha and, scenting that his heat cycle is approaching and he'll be bonded to someone else if he doesn't act, Hannibal decides to trade his freedom in order to bind Will to him forever...

Preview : 

His mouth was dry and gritty, his head full of wasps and needles. He tried to move but had to stop and breathe deeply first. Every part if him felt strange and only barely connected.
Slowly, Will prised his eyelids apart. The light was dim but still hurt his eyes at first. He was used to headaches, so the one which crawled up from the base of his skull in response didn't affect him greatly beyond making it hard to keep his eyes open against the brightness.
He was seated, he realised, in a comfortable chair with wide arms and black leather upholstery. One of his hands was stuck to it, like he had been there some time, lightly sweating. Will prised it away and was grateful for the slight shock of sensation it provided. It helped to bring him back to consciousness.
Will made an effort to lift his chin. The blurry figure of a man slowly came to him. He recognised this, this position he was in, this view. It was familiar enough to be soothing. His heartbeat, which had been thundering, began to settle at the face he saw there.
"D'ctor?" he groaned and tried to swallow the grit making his mouth feel like sand. "Did... did I fall 'sleep?" That had to be it. He must have drifted off while they were talking.
"No Will," Lecter responded, and for the first time, Will realised that the expression on his friend's face was not one he'd ever seen before. It was serious as ever, but he also looked strangely concentrated, disquieted.
"I feel strange."
"You have been drugged." Lecter said it so perfunctorily, he might have been telling him about the weather. "A mild sedative. It will wear off shortly."
Will brought his surroundings into focus and realised that they were not, as he had initially believed, in Dr Lecter's office. The position of their seats were exactly as they would be in his practice room, but the room was smaller. It was Dr Lecter's drawing room. They were in his house in Baltimore.
He searched his mind for some indication of what had occurred before he woke up there. Where had he been before the darkness swallowed him?
A sudden tingle in his gut brought his memories back to him like a dart hitting bullseye. Of course... he had been at home, locked in his room, going back and forth between his phone and the box containing his hormone suppressing drugs and stimulation aid of choice for heat cycles. He had been securing his nest of pillows and sheets, so that when the heat began he would be able to relax.
"How... How did I get here?" he asked, throat still scratchy.
"I entered your home, using your spare key, and administered the sedative with a syringe. Forgive me Will, it was very discourteous, I know. Particularly given your impending heat."
Tension entered Will's posture as he looked, really looked at Dr Lecter properly. He breathed in through his nose, almost without thinking, and scented the man sitting across from him. The air was thick with Alpha pheromones, the fullness of which he had never tasted before. His body twitched all over in response, his Omega cycle responding.
The slight curve of a smile which appeared at Lecter's mouth indicated that he noticed Will's primal response.

=======================================================================

TOCCATA AND FUGUE (ADAGIO)


Status: Complete
Genre: Drama, Romance, Angst
Rated: M
Pairing: Hannibal/Will

Summary:
Seven years on, Will is still haunted by his memories of Hannibal Lecter. When a serial killer nicknamed the Tooth Fairy starts wiping out whole families, he finds himself back in Baltimore and in a race against time to catch him. It just so happens that the only person who can help him is Hannibal.

Preview : 

Even after so many years, Will couldn't stop the awful feelings of nausea that suffused through him every time his heat cycle began to creep across his skin. It would always begin the same way, with a nightmare of being in a forest at night, fire burning it down and surrounding him, his cries for help unheard as it finally swept over him and turned him to ashes. He would wake up shaking, rigid with fear and more, often than not, dry heaving or flat out vomiting.
No drugs seemed to be able to stop it, regardless of their combination, and the doctors had promised that it was not related to the bout of encephalitis that had almost destroyed him, and his son, seven years previously. Most of them could easily tell that he was going through the typical withdrawal symptoms of a bonded Omega who had been severed from his mate, but not one of them could adequetly explain why the effects were continuing across far more years than was normal, except to blur the edges of the diagnosis into a psychological condition.
Molly was patient with him. She was one of the few who knew the true story of what had happened to him and, as a gentle Beta who had been badly mistreated by several of the Alphas in her life out in Baltimore, she was happy to settle with him out on the island paradise of Sugarloaf Key in Florida. Theirs was a gentle marriage of convenience; something that wouldn't be out of place on postcards and behind the empty picture frames sold in tourist shops. It was slightly dreamy and painted in watercolours, with no great passion or need, but useful to them both as a safe harbour from the past.
While she seemed to grow calm as the ocean as time passed and she felt safe, he still felt like an approaching storm, with no right to live the life of a quiet family man fixing boat motors for a living. Sometimes, when he blinked, he could see the shadows and corpses, the blood and death, that no one else could. His eyes still burned through newspaper stories of brutal murders, bringing the smudged black and white images to life, reconstructing and reliving the events portrayed in type. Will still could not, even now, ever hide from the vivid insights of his mind.
But then there was his son, William Jnr, the bright light of his whole life: an intelligent and quiet boy who looked just like his fathers. The ladies who sold iced-cream and candies on the beach all called him a little heartbreaker. He patently looked nothing like Molly but nobody ever questioned it. No one got close enough.
William had inherited a broad mix of traits from both of his parents, most resembling Will when he smiled or cried and most resembling Hannibal when he concentrated, his empathy balanced, with nothing remotely abnormal surfacing in his behaviour patterns thus far. Will stared at him sometimes, seeing elements of the face that still haunted him, never able to forget Hannibal, even for a day, because of his son.

=======================================================================

TOCCATA AND FUGUE (AL FINE)


Status: Complete
Genre: Drama, Romance, Angst
Rated: M
Pairing: Hannibal/Will

Summary:
When Will took out Francis Dollarhyde, the so-called Tooth Fairy, he thought the danger to his family was over. But there are more monsters lurking in the shadows than he ever knew, and they're watching him now...

Preview : 


From way out on the calm ocean, their home on the beach looked like no more than a small light on a distant island. It was a marker in the inkwell of the night and it reminded Will of all those times he'd stood far across the plains from his house in Wolf Trap and looked back through the rolling mists, when it looked like a ship out at sea, safe in isolation.
His son sat at the back of the boat, looking back to the shore, as he always did. When Will laid anchor and they stopped, he almost saw William's shoulders relaxing at last, his expression calming. He knew how he felt; the house looked contained, and the bad memories of what had happened that night seemed to be held at bay inside it.
He didn't know exactly why this had seemed like the right thing to do when he returned from the hospital to a son who was withdrawn and haunted by nightmares that had rendered him unable even to speak. Kray Sanchez, a local with a lot of boats for hire, and a constant need for a trustworthy person to sort out their engines, had offered the use of them as a welcome home gesture, and he'd known what to do. Will just knew, somehow, that this was the only thing that would help.
He lay back on the cushions out on the back deck of the Windspire and stared up at the stars above them. It took a few minutes but then his son was with him, curling into his side and resting his head on his shoulder. Will pulled him close and kissed the top of his head.
"It's alright, buddy. We're safe here."
It would take a while for sleep to come, and normally Will let the calm sounds of the ocean soothe them both. But tonight, while the weather was accommodating and the ocean dreamy, he knew it was time to start the process of confrontation. William couldn't go on like this, a prisoner of his fears. Platitudes and reassurances about how their attacker was dead and they were safe now were not snapping him out of it.
Molly had already found a child psychologist and set her to work prodding around inside William's head, apparently before Will was even out of the ER. He hated the whole idea of it and made it known to his wife. It was a violation, nothing less than that in his eyes, and her persistence with it enraged him in a way he could barely disguise.
Things were not going well at all. Whatever initial forgiveness Molly had bestowed when he returned from Baltimore reeking of Hannibal Lecter, and however sincere his desire to maintain their life together had been, both had been damaged by the chain of events that swiftly followed.
They had been tracked down and attacked, in the home she had loved as a child, which she had shared with him out of kindness and love, by a psychopath. Will's face had been mutilated by a deep laceration that ran from the apple of his left cheek, over his nose and down to his jaw, taking over his face like the tattooed representation of the darkness that was spreading beneath.
This man had come for Will, and Will alone, but they were all scarred. His son had seen their family pet murdered horrendously, been manhandled into their home and threatened with a shard of glass by an insane killer, and then thought he'd seen his father shot dead. Unsurprisingly, William was not the same child now. Molly, in her fear and helplessness, quietly blamed Will for bringing that evil back with him like a plague, and Will knew how she felt; he couldn't even look at his reflection without feeling remorse.
"Things have been pretty hard around here," he said, and felt William tense. "Your mother and I... well, it's got difficult. It was my fault that man came after us. I think, well, I'm pretty sure we're not going to be able to stay here much longer. I know you don't feel safe in that house anymore and neither does she. She's been talking about going to stay with her parents...." Will paused to gulp, unsure of how best to continue. "Molly and I aren't going to be able to live together much longer and she wants you to go stay with her for a while, with grandma and grandpa."
William sat up and looked down at him with a heartbreaking questioning in his eyes.
"You have to understand, it's not that I want you to go. God, never. I... I don't know what I'd do without you. But I want you to decide. She's been your mother since you were born and, well, I can't make the decision for you. I'm sorry... this is the hardest thing I'll ever ask you to do."
His son studied him, those Lecter family eyes shining in the moonlight. He slowly settled back down and clung onto him, tightly. Will hoped, but couldn't be certain, that it was an indication that maybe, just maybe, he might want to stick with his strange, disfigured, broken wreck of a dad.
Something hit his chest. It took him a second to realise that it was William's fist. It crashed down again, and was then joined by his other one. His son's face was twisted with unsuppressed tears as he continued to hit him, faster and faster, some innate frustration he wasn't able to communicate to Will spilling out violently. The blows didn't hurt physically but they hurt Will inside.

GREEN DREAMS


Author: I-Mushi
Status: Ongoing
Genre: Adventure, Romance
Rated: M
Pairing: Sephiroth/Cloud

Summary:
Cloud has suffered and asked for forgiveness, but Aeris knows she alone cannot give him it. He must find that forgiveness and peace where it began, back at SOLDIER.

Preview : 

Shinra was not so old-fashioned as to have a trumpet player wake its soldiers in the mornings. Instead they had an alarm someone had said long ago was like the screech of a castrated Behemoth.
Cloud had suffered enough of these wake-up calls to last a lifetime and thought he would never have to wake to it again. After all the commotion of his early life, waking up at the crack of dawn to silence was a blessing. When the sudden blare of the alarms shattered the silence of the room with a sudden cacophony of sound, Cloud was up like a shot, one hand under the pillow for the knife he kept there. With a particularly loud WHAM, Cloud's head connected with the bottom of the bunk above him.
He rubbed his forehead partially from pain but mostly from shock. His mind seemed to detach itself involuntarily as he took in the room.
It was a far too recognizable, with four sets of bunk beds spread about: two against one wall perpendicular to him, his own and the bunk above it to the left of the door, and the other set directly across from his. The walls were the dull gray steel and the floor a dirt-thin carpet in very faded red. The only windows were two small ones close to the ceiling that couldn't be opened. In all the bunks around him, people were beginning to stir. Cadets with long-forgotten faces and voices that recalled some of his most faded memories peeked out of covers and rolled over on pillows. Like ghosts, they stumbled out of bed and started their daily routine.
Someone dropped in front of him, and Cloud sharply pulled back, ready to flee or fight. One fist was already clenched in preparation, but the figure before him asked for a punch in the face for an entirely different reason.
"Up and at em'! Materia's today, and I don't want to miss a bit of it." The boy laughed easily, a bright smile on his face. The other cadets in the barracks were groaning at him but Cloud only stared. Daniel Gavish's face had been half-burnt off and warped with pain in his death. Cloud couldn't remember the circumstances, but that gruesome image swam right into focus as he stared at him, perfectly numb with shock.
"You're back in the clouds, Cloud." In a singsong voice at a near-painful octave this early in the morning, Dan's hips wiggled in a gesture not unlike a smug Yuffie. Cloud twitched in response, his fist whitening with tension, hearing those words echo from long years past. "Can't miss theory or Sergeant'll have your ass." The boy waved and practically skipped out of the room, fully dressed and ready to go. The other boys, done pulling on their own clothes by now, fished out any necessary books and paper and also began to leave. As they trickled out, a painful cold settled over Cloud's chest.
The very last of them spared the blond a glance. He said nothing as he left.
Cloud sat in the silence of the room carefully counting his heartbeats to reassure himself this simply couldn't be real. Then in one violent motion he turned and punched a fist into the steel wall. His knuckles broke and bled, but for Cloud the pain was insignificant in comparison to the overwhelming truth. He swallowed harshly. Something was at work here, something that didn't take into account his feelings or care that this would be the string to unbind him. With a frustrated cry, Cloud slammed his other fist into the same wall, not even denting the metal and ignoring the smarting it caused. Both hands bled rivets, and Cloud knew his face was screwed up and red from all of the emotions going through him. He couldn't name half of them, but he could feel the hot, blinding press of them clamoring for room.
Vomit crept up his throat again, and his eyes began to burn. Ruthlessly he suppressed both urges and lowered his head, searching for his stoic strength.
More in control now, he relaxed his arms but kept the knuckles in place before allowing them to come away from the wall to splay out his hands, palms pressed against the steel wall. He couldn't pull his eyes away from the image of his red and bloodied hands, and soon the burning behind his eyes messed up his vision until his trembling hands were blurring with the wall. Too much emotion that couldn't be suppressed left him unable to remove his hands or stop himself from pushing as hard as possible against the walls of the barracks. He pushed against the insurmountable walls of the room, struggling blindly to fight the inevitable.






Jumat, 18 Juli 2014

Black Cat Fic Recs


A WAR I DID NOT START & COULD NOT END


Author: TrainHeartnetXIII
Status: Complete
Genre: Adventure, Romance
Rated: M
Pairing: Creed/Train

Summary:
Train finally gets the chance to fight Creed, yet this time around Train doesn't come out victorious. What happens when Train is kidnapped by Creed, and taken into a world he's tried so hard to destroy, finding himself deeper in it's mysteries than before.

Perview :

"I wanted to create it with you, Train," His voice floated in the empty space between us, the dust rising in the thin air.
I felt the crumbled wall behind me, the pointed rocks digging into my torn and bruised back, making me flinch with each breath. I couldn't move, my body felt as though it were paralyzed with pain and nothing more.
I wasn't afraid to die, I never had been-something Chronos had torn out of me after years of training. In the end it was Creed's final intention to take my life, to end all of this because if he couldn't have me, no one could. In the end my final intention was to leave him alive-to change him, and maybe even make him a sweeper just like me.
I choked as I breathed in, the blood rising in my lungs as it dripped off my skin. I opened my eyes slowly to the world around me, the small effort hurting more than I thought it ever could.
My mind jerked back into reality as I heard Creed's footsteps coming closer. The soles of his shoes crunched on the rubble my impact with the roof had caused. His breathing was rushed, almost excited as he approached me, but something about his slow steps made me wonder what exactly he was feeling.
I wanted to raise my head, to see his face before he did whatever it was he had in mind, but my neck screamed out in pain as I tried, and I gave up and let my head fall again.
"You try too hard, Train." Creed's voice broken the eerie silence.
I could see the toes of his shoes now that he had come close enough, but far enough to give me some air. His slender fingers hooked under my chin and he slowly pulled my face up so that our eyes met.
"This hurts more than you realize, Train," He half whispered as he looked into my eyes, his other hand gently caressing my bleeding cheekbone. "I wanted to create the perfect Eden with you, where I would be God and you would be by my side."
I choked again as I took in a quick breath, my neck now pulled at an angle that made it hard to breathe. I studied his eyes for several seconds, seeing the genuine pain in them, but also the insane hatred he had been harboring for what felt like years.
I wanted to say something-to snap at him, tell him he was insane, but all the energy I had left in me was the only thing keeping me alive-the only thing urging my heart to keep pumping and my brain to keep functioning.
"I'd rather have you with me, than buried beneath the earth," He said, his voice full of concern as his hand ran up into my hair. "But if I have no choice-if that witch's curse is still on you," at this his grip on my chin tightened painfully, making me jerk and utter a pitiful sound from somewhere in my throat. "If I have no choice…"
He trailed off as he stepped closer, his grip on my chin loosening as he pulled my face up further.
"It hurts me to see you like this," He smiled weakly as he knelt down to my height, the strangely grotesque arm the nanotechnology had given him suddenly fading back into his body and leaving him as the ordinary Creed I had once been partners with in Chronos. "Maybe I'll give you another try, if you think it'd be worth it?"
I only glared back at him, my body too weak to do anything else as he held my chin firmly in his grip.
"I think I just might," He smiled to himself before leaning forward and pressing his lips against mine.
I jerked at the unwelcome feeling, my grip on Hades tightening as I pushed myself back into the broken roof behind me. He only pushed forward, his grip on my chin tightening and his other hand sliding to the back of my neck and pulling me against him.
I felt my body slide away from the roof and into his arms, the strength I had once had barely there as I tried to push away. When he finally pulled away he rested my head on his shoulder, his fingers running through my hair as if I belonged there-as if I wanted to be there.
"Creed," I choked out, barely able to breathe as blood continued to leak into my lungs.
"Sh," He whispered in my ear as he held me against his chest, his other hand running up and down my wounded back. "Just let your body heal itself."
"Creed," I choked out again, refusing to obey him. "Creed-let me go."
He laughed from somewhere in his chest, a bitter and almost angry laugh, but his hold on me never wavered.

Link: www.fanfiction.net/s/2869629/1/A-War-I-Did-Not-Start-Could-Not-End

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AMANTES SUNT AMENTES


Author: Godell
Status: Complete
Genre: Drama, Romance
Rated: M
Pairing: Creed/Train

Summary:
Partners and lovers. Obsession and near-submission. Pleasure and pain. They were beyond the world's comprehension, but then lovers can be lunatics. This is the tale of Train and Creed before the fall.

Perview : 

Creed walked quietly to the room where the newest recruits for Chronos were waiting.
He wondered which one of the fifty would be the best suited to be his partner. Having no idea how old they were, his estimate was at that most were in their late teens, like him.
Creed sighed and gazed briefly out the tall window next to him. The world was still corrupt, no matter how many people he killed for Chronos. It was disappointing. No, perhaps it was heartbreaking. He couldn't decide.
Oh well. There's more important things to worry about right now…like which one of these new recruits will actually take a shine to me. Creed snickered and twirled the blood-red rose he held in his hand. Not that that's ever been a problem before.
Creed had so far been through four partners, three of whom had suffered from unfortunate accidents, the fourth was slowly growing very boring.
Shaking his head he reached the large ornate doors, where the fifty recruits were waiting. Creed placed his rose in between his teeth, adjusted his white coat, and grinned.
Show time.
With that, Creed pushed the doors open, making sure to look as dashing as possible in the process while having to exert himself a bit—Chronos had a habit of making certain doors ridiculously heavy, unweildly.


Link: www.fanfiction.net/s/4740358/1/Amantes-sunt-Amentes

SILVER NIGHT


Author: A Really Big Idiot
Fandom: Vampire Knight
Status: Ongoing
Genre: Angst, Drama, Romance
Rated: M
Pairing: Kaname/Zero. Kaname/Yuuki. Zero/Yuuki.
Warning: This is an extremely dark, complex, mature, and emotional story!

Summary:
Kaname brutally betrayed Zero to a fate worse than death. 100 years later, Zero has reappeared in a guise he had never expected – the guise of the dark pleasure servant Silver Night.

Perview : 

The Vampire King watched the specter in the moonlight window. Long high-silver hair flowed down his back and shoulders stretching towards his snow-white feet. Dark grayish-purple eyes were hidden underneath sleepy wispy eyelashes. The lean and tone figure was adorned in black silk. His shirt was open revealing a pleasing chest. His silk pants barely seemed to grip his hips and had the naughty suggestion that the lightest of tugs would reveal a hidden jewel.
The King stared at his face. Still so similar to the one he remembered in his guilt induced nightmares and tired memories. Zero's face had always been a wonder to behold. His symmetrical features had always arrested the attention of those who dared to look upon him. In looks, he was a rare creature. It was his personality that had kept most far.
Suddenly, Zero was awakened from his sleepiness. He looked at Kaname for a tiny moment and like a quiet river over smooth stones, he stood up and walked toward him. Kuran expected him to punch him. Kuran expected him to spit at him. Kuran expected him to curse him.
Therefore, he didn't expect to hear those words. "I greet you, new master. What does your heart greatly desire?"
Kaname just stared. Of all the things Zero could have spoken, those eleven words were not what he expected. Kaname expected the boy to curse him. He even expected him to attack. The heavens knew that boy should have tried to murder him. But for that boy to bow? He wanted to laugh. Fate was darkly cruel! A sudden flash of memory over took him.
Zero reached toward him with a bloody hand. "Help me, Kaname."
He took a disgusted step back. "And allow you to have my happiness? Never." He cruelly said.
If the boy had survived for one hundred years after the betrayal, surely he would have plotted some form of revenge. Clearly, that was logical. But no, he was kneeing before Kaname. Zero Kiryu was kneeing before him. A hidden wish of his adolescent days were finally granted. Kaname wondered if he was experiencing a delusion.
However, in all the guises that Zero could have taken to come back. The guise of Silver Night would have never been a possibility to him. Never – not in a million years - would Kaname have thought such an impossible idea. Kuran heard of the creature. Among the nobles for a past century, the rumors spoke of a Doll that fulfilled every dream, wish, fantasy, and desire of his master.
A Doll was a polite term for a sexual vampire slave. A creature only the nobles and a few C class vampires could own. However, the Doll named Silver Night was in a category all his own.
A creature that embodied glorious androgynous beauty and handsomeness. A creature who had the ability to satisfy all natural and unnatural, noble and beastly lust. Kuran remembered stories of previous masters of Silver Night to lock themselves within their homes for months at a time to enjoy the untold pleasures that he provided.
Such legends had been spreading around his court for years, but Kaname had never paid much attention to them. He did find it amusing that the nobles which had had him would jealously guard him from their rivals. However, he never found amusing that those same nobles would be killed for him. Actually, they would be murdered to be more precise. Silver Night had never belonged to one master for more than two years.
And Silver Night was none other than Zero Kiryu.
Kaname Kuran knew the world had gone mad.

THE CAVE SERIES


THE CAVE


Author: Masksarehot
Fandom: The Legend of Korra
Status: Complete
Genre: Romance, Drama
Rated: M
Pairing: Amon/Korra

Summary:
Amon must cooperate with Korra if he hopes to survive his injuries following a natural disaster, forcing him to face his prejudices about bending head-on...and leaving him grappling with an inconvenient growing attraction.

Perview :

The meeting ended before it began.
Amon had stationed his troops around the peak, ready to strike at his lieutenant's command, and entered the cave alone, pressing against the wall by the mouth. The plan, once she entered, was to emerge from the shadows, intimidate her until he had squeezed out every bit of information about Tarrlok, and leave her paralyzed with fear. Not elegant, but effective. The Avatar was an extremely valuable tool to the Equalist cause, but only so long as she truly feared and respected him.
Shortly before midnight, she entered, holding a glowing fireball in her hand like a torch. "Amon?" she called.
"Avatar," he greeted, and she jumped and spun, her eyes wide with fear. Good. Walking slowly up to her, he kept his shoulders broad, his gaze strong. A bead of sweat trailed down her temple, glistening in the light of the flame, but she stood tall.
"You came alone?" she demanded.
He stopped, looming over her, and did not answer.
Her brow cocked with suspicion and she folded her arms over her chest, wilting a little under his gaze. "Look, I hate you and you hate me, but right now we have a common enemy. I have a proposition."
A deafening groan drowned her next words. The cave ground heaved.
Normally light on his feet, Amon staggered. Behind his mask, his lips curled into a sneer. Earthbending. That this was a trap was not surprising, but how had her troops gotten past his?
"Call off your earthbenders," he intoned, struggling to maintain decorum as the ground shuddered. "We agreed to meet alone." Another tremor nearly knocked him off his feet.
Across from him, the Avatar fell to all fours. "I did come alone!" Her voice was panicky.
He barely had time to register that it was a legitimate earthquake when the ground pitched, upending him. Jagged rocks crumbled from the cave roof, their slams sending sprays of stone showering down on them. A shard sliced into his arm, through cloth and flesh, and drew blood.
His eyes snapped to the Avatar. He had to keep her alive; all his plans depended on it. She had managed to rise onto one knee, her hands deftly bending the fallen rocks away from herself. She was skilled indeed, but too focussed on the immediate. Above her, the ceiling was beginning to crack, a heavy load of debris about to drop.
"Above you!" he yelled, but his deep voice was lost in the echoing moans of the earth around them. Still she focussed on the stones around her. Still the ceiling began to give.
No choice.
He launched himself at her, barrelling toward her on all fours, the ground rocking so harshly that it hit either shoulder along his way.
She lifted her head just before the impact, her eyes widening, but he was too quick for her to avoid.
His momentum sent her tumbling. He rolled, landed on his back, and a crushing white pain seized his shoulder and enveloped his mind in darkness.

Link: www.fanfiction.net/s/8185069/1/The-Cave

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SEQUEL: SHADOWS OF THE CITY


Status: Complete
Genre: Romance, Drama
Rated: M
Pairing: Amon/Korra

Summary:
Amon must cooperate with Korra if he hopes to survive his injuries following a natural disaster, forcing him to face his prejudices about bending head-on...and leaving him grappling with an inconvenient growing attraction.

Perview : 

The shops gave way to a row of houses, small businesses that also doubled as living quarters for downtrodden families. The cobblestone here was worn, grass poking between the broken stones. Amon's nose wrinkled; the stench of garbage that wafted from the alleyways was stronger today than usual. He had just started to turn off the street when a scream caught his attention.
In front of one of the houses stood a man speaking to a young girl. The girl was maybe eight, her dark hair in pigtails. Amon recognized her as a girl who usually sat in the garden, yellow eyes alight as she played with a doll made out of a knotted sock. Every day he had passed by, she had reminded him of the sister he might have had, the one taken from him in her infancy. Today, however, she was all young Amon. Her fists were on her hips, and as the man took a step toward her, she let out a bloodcurdling shriek of resistance. Passersby gave them a wide berth, no one looking directly at them.
Amon tilted his head and began to pad toward them, observing. The girl's clothes were tattered and her bare feet were braced in a fighting stance that looked to be firebender posture.
"I just want to talk to your father," said the man, his voice heavy with impatience.
"No! You're going to hurt him again." The girl held her hands in front of her. Definitely firebender posture. Behind her, a man with slumped shoulders hobbled out of the house and tried to pull her inside, but her stubbornness held her fast.
Amon came to a standstill twenty feet from them, his throat suddenly tight. The scene was far too familiar for comfort.
"Your payment is long overdue," said the threatening man to the little girl's father.
"Please, I cannot pay you today."
In Amon's mind's eye, he saw his own father begging for mercy. Heat flickered in his chest.
"Leave him alone!" screamed the girl, and she blasted a bolt of fire at the man.
The man grinned, easily dodging, and then he clawed his hand into the air.
The girl shrieked. Her legs twitched as her feet left the ground. Puppet-like, her body began to float and contort. Her father howled.
"Do something," whispered Amon, waiting for the father to intervene.
"Pay me," said the bloodbender. "I wouldn't want to hurt her too badly."
"Please! I'm telling you, I can't. Don't hurt her." Amon could tell by the fear in the man's voice that he was not going to stand up against his daughter's attacker.
The bloodbender grinned and clenched his fist, and blood trickled from the girl's mouth.
Amon dropped his satchel and bolted to the attacker's side. Six blows to the flank hit the bloodbender before he knew anyone was on him. He whirled, dropping the girl, but Amon was already on his other side. Six more jabs and the man was completely disabled. A holler of frustration left the man's mouth as he began to sag toward to the cobblestone.
Out of long-unused instinct, Amon's hand clamped onto the back of the bloodbender's neck, pushing him to his knees.
"You dare to use bloodbending," he said, his voice dangerously calm. "And on a child. You are pathetic."
The man turned to spit at him. Amon dodged and punched a finger into the man's neck in retribution, eliciting a scream and a sob.
"Listen closely." Amon's grip tightened on the other's neck and he leaned close to his ear, using the deepest timbre of his voice. "You will not abuse your bending like this again, or there will be consequences."
The man was gasping hard, sweat and tears trickling down his face. "Like what?" His eyes were white all the way around the irises. "You'll take my bending?"
He figured out who I am. Though he managed to keep his face impassive, Amon's heart seized. He tossed the man to the ground and stood. "Do not follow me, and do not touch them again. I won't hold back next time."
The girl and her father had run inside. The streets were deserted, though eyes peered out of cracked doors and shutters. Amon's lips curled. Too much fear. He should not have been the only one fighting back.
He stormed back to his satchel. One of the masks had spilled out; he shoved it back into the bag, hoping no one had seen it. It reminded him of all he had given up. Once upon a time, he could have decisively ended this bender's tyranny. Now all he had were words and empty threats. His greatest threat, his identity, wasn't even one he was free to utilize.
Footsteps sounded from behind, running. The bloodbender was trying to charge at his back. Amon listened; at the last second, he flattened to the ground and spun, taking out his attacker's legs. The bloodbender flew over him, crashing into a wall. Amon swooped at the man and drove his palm into the other's face, slamming his head back against the wall once, twice. The man slid to the ground, unconscious, leaving a smear of crimson on the wall. Blood from his nose began to trickle down his face, and the colour faded from his skin.
Amon stood in front of the fallen man, hunched over, and struggled to catch his breath. He hadn't meant to hit him so hard.
Sirens began to sound in the background; one of the neighbours must have called the police.
Standing tall, Amon brushed off his robes, then slung the satchel over his shoulder. Every instinct told him to flee, but he knew that becoming a fugitive was no longer an option – he had a new life now. He held up his hands as the first car arrived, offering himself up for questioning.
In his mind, he was already drafting a speech for Midori to deliver to the Council. Maybe he couldn't fight against the benders as Amon anymore, but he would do what he could as Zoran.

Link: www.fanfiction.net/s/8412387/1/The-Cave-II-Shadows-of-the-City

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SIDE STORY/SEQUEL: WELCOME TO THE FAMILY


Status: Complete
Genre: Family
Rated: T
Pairing: Amon/Korra

Summary:
Fluffy little snippet set a few years after The Cave II (Spoilers!) Selora's training session with Amon is interrupted when the phone rings with big news: Korra is going into labour.


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SIDE STORY/SEQUEL: WRINKLES & AFTERGLOW


Status: Complete
Genre: Romance
Rated: K
Pairing: Amon/Korra

Summary:
On a special anniversary, Amon & Korra share a dance, forming a memory so strong that it will resonate with the next generation.


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SIDE STORY/SEQUEL: A SONG FOR THE DEAD


Status: Complete
Genre: Spiritual, Family
Rated: K+
Pairing: Amon/Korra

Summary:
Set in The Cave AU (Amorra). Amon, Selora and their families say farewell to his former lieutenant and Midori. Character death.



1001 NIGHT SERIES


1001 NIGHT


Author: Runandra
Fandom : HunterxHunter
Status: Complete
Genre: Adventure, Humor
Rated: T
Pairing: Kuroro/Kurapika

Summary:
Kurapika claimed that Kuroro Lucifer was his archenemy, but lo and behold, here he was travelling with that man because of some stupid mistakes they did in a rush of moment.

Perview : 

       His head throbbed as if his skull would split into two anytime. A thick layer of dusts obscured his vision, and some of them had gotten into his mouth, forcing him into a fit of coughing. He waved his hand around the cloud of dusts, trying to clear them. He was not supposed to be leisurely waving away the dusts. He was supposed to be doing his assigned task by his idiotic boss, who had his eyes fixed on a certain ancient relic. He was supposed to retrieve the relic from the ruin, and yet there he was, sitting in a God-forsaken underground floor of the forgotten ruin.
       Kurapika shook his head vigorously, trying to get some of the dusts and debris off his blond hair. He tried to remember the chain of events that had been taking place. Ok, so his boss had gone desperate. Neon Nostrad, his so-called gold mine, had lost her ability and so his steady income had gone down the drain. He needed to pay for mountains of debts; which Kurapika himself had not the slightest idea on how he managed to accumulate such ridiculous sum of debts, but Nostrad did not have the money. Apparently, he came across a dusty archive which stated that there was a certain enchanted relic that could grant wishes of the owner. Thinking that he might be able to clear his debts and climbed up the social hierarchy once again once he possessed the magical relic, Nostrad set his eyes on the lamp and sent his best men; Kurapika included as one, to get the relic.
       Unfortunately, Kurapika's luck had been running thin lately. Not only the Scarlet Eyes had disappeared from Nostrad's possession, he recently felt that the Restrictions he had placed upon Kuroro Lucifer, his mortal enemy, had been lifted. So technically, the head of the Spiders was out there, roaming freely with his Nen liberated. Instead of hunting him down, he was given the menial tasks of retrieving some relic. However, in the end Kurapika found himself wondering whether he should have counted himself as extremely lucky or unlucky. While begrudgingly trying to get his hands on the relic, he came across the unlikeliest group in his mind that he would ever bump into in such a deserted place; the Genei Ryodan itself. Complete with the head.
       "So much for my luck." He muttered with a huff.
       So, to cut long story short, they fought. A duel, one-on-one between him and Kuroro Lucifer. In the process, the ruin itself was half destroyed as the two were immersed in their duel, the floor collapsed beneath them, and they were swallowed into the underground cave of the ruin. So here he was, in the damp darkness. Kuroro should be near, so he could not afford to lower his guard.
       Sure enough, he sensed movement to his left. The next second, Kuroro and Kurapika were already engaged in a furious deadlock; Kuroro holding a dagger aimed to his face, while Kurapika wrapped his chain around his wrist, trying to hold the dagger away from his face.
       "You bastard…" He managed with a strain voice while shooting the man looming over him with a glare that could have killed a man, if looks could kill.
       His eyes glowed eerily in the darkness of the tunnel, like a glowing ember. Kuroro peered into his eyes, taking in all the negative emotions; the hatred, the resentment, everything, with cold face. Looking into those scarlet eyes, he could not help but to smile. He had suspected that the Kuruta boy's eyes were the brightest among all that he had ever seen, and he was right. Enraged by his smile; which seemed twisted and wrong in his mind, Kurapika's eyes glowed even redder out of anger. Energy pulsed around him, and he began to push Kuroro, until they were of the same eye level.
       "Oh?" Kuroro raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by his small feat of pushing him.
After some seemingly interminable seconds, they broke away. However, strange things never ceased to happen. As Kuroro jumped away from him, he felt a strong tug to his left wrist. All of the sudden, Kuroro stopped halfway in his jump as if someone had pulled his right wrist forward, while Kurapika was jerked forward as well.
        Kuroro blinked in surprise, Kurapika frowned in confusion. They looked at each other, both noticing the strange phenomenon that happened just a fraction of second ago. Slowly, they both straightened while keeping a wary eye at each other. Kurapika raised his left arm and pulled. At the same time, Kuroro's right hand was jerked forward towards his direction.
        Kurapika felt butterflies in his stomach and gulped hard. Whatever it was, it was not going to be a pleasant thing. Kuroro himself looked troubled. He used Gyo and looked at his wrist, and Kurapika saw his already big eyes widened ever so slightly. Imitating his gesture, Kurapika used Gyo and inspected his wrist.
      "For the love of—" He could literally feel his blood freezing in his veins and the colour leaving his face. A manacle was clung around his left wrist, and much to his dismay, the other end was connected to Kuroro Lucifer's right wrist.
      "What is happening here?" The older man voiced his thought out loud.
       As if to answer his question, a blue light flickered in the darkness and hovered eerily around them. Kurapika had to narrow his eyes to get a better look at the ball of light. Apparently, after further observation, it was not a ball of light. It was a very small boy, the size of a grown man's open palm, encompassed in blue light. The boy itself had blue skin, with oversized, round, beady eyes. He looked at them with curious eyes, coupled with the mischievous glint.
       Teehee…I'm so lucky. The first thing I found when I woke up from my deep slumber was the unlikeliest pair. He giggled with his ghastly voice. Now let's see how things will go.
       "Wait a minute." Kurapika frowned. "Is this…" He lifted his manacled hand and pointed at it. "…your doing?"
       Who else? Who else? Only I, the Great Genie Hassamunnin, can do such thing. Hehehehe… The genie continued giggling. He floated around them, looking at them with calculating eyes. "I see you hate him with all your heart. That won't do, that won't do."
The genie shook his head with mock sadness, and then with a snap of his tiny blue fingers, something really unpleasant happened. The chain of the manacle suddenly shrunk, dragging Kurapika and Kuroro forward towards each other. The chain had shortened considerably that they almost bumped each other's head. Kurapika looked up, and to his chagrin, Kuroro's face was just a metre away from his. He glared at him hatefully, but Kuroro just gave him an annoyed look. He turned to face the floating genie.
       "Hassamunnin? Would you be so kind as to release this manacle from me?" He politely asked. Kurapika snorted in disdain with his use of polite manner. Kuroro ignored him.
       No no no. I can't do that. I won't do that. I don't want to do that. The genie replied with amused voice, which echoed in the underground cave.
       "Nothing will change your mind?" Kuroro asked again, his tone even.
       Nothing, nothing. The boy sang his annoying song while continued hovering above them.
       "What are the conditions to release the bind, then?" He asked again. Kurapika gave him a questioning look. He had no idea on what Kuroro was talking about.
       Oooh, the long awaited question. That, I will tell you. Listen well, humans. The genie lowered himself to their eye levels and cleared his throat. First, you cannot forcefully release the bind. Nothing can break it or lift it, except me. But I am not going to do that, so don't count on it. Second, the chain binds your life to each other. If one dies, so does the other one.
       Kurapika groaned loudly with exasperation at this, but the genie ignored him. Kuroro shifted uneasily in his position. Hassamunnin continued then.
       Third, you cannot liberate yourself from the bind by cutting off your arm. The bind will protect your arms. Fourth, the chain represents how close the two of you to each other is.
       "WHAT?" Kurapika did not bother to rein himself this time.
       The closer you are to each other, Again, the genie ignored Kurapika's yell of indignation. The more flexible the bind will be.
       "So if we don't hate each other anymore, the bind will disappear?" Kuroro asked to clarify with dry amusement.
       No no, it's not that easy. It won't be fun that way. The genie grinned evilly at him. It requires more than that to make the bind disappear. Much much more. Much much more. With that, Hassamunnin floated up, performed a stunt in the air, and then poof! He disappeared in a thin blue cloud.
       Suddenly, a pin-drop silence engulfed the darkness. Kurapika slumped in defeat, while Kuroro sat in a rigid position. Both stayed that way for a few more minute, before finally Kurapika spoke up.
       "Now what?" He asked to nobody in particular.
       "What indeed."
 
Link: www.fanfiction.net/s/5650325/1/1001-Nights
  =======================================================================

SIDE STORY: HALF EMPTY GLASS


Status: Complete
Genre: Romance, Drama
Rated: M
Pairing: Kuroro/Kurapika

Summary:
The missing chapter 29 1/2 of 1001 Nights. Not recommended if you haven't read the 1001 Nights. This story is dedicated for the one year gap since Kuroro and Kurapika's parting in the Kuruta village. 


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SEQUEL: ANGEL'S PRAYER


Status: Complete
Genre: Adventure
Rated: T
Pairing: Kuroro/Kurapika

Summary:
Five years had passed since Kuroro's and Kurapika's parting in the Kuruta village, but a new figure appeared to mess up the transient peace and fragile equilibrium established between them.

Perview:

       The children huddled as closely as they could. Though the cage was spacious enough for all of them to sprawl their legs, they preferred the comfort of each other's warmth in the cold cage. After all, they were all in the same boat—kidnapped children whose fates were still hanging uncertainly. They had no idea on what would happen to them, let alone making plans to escape. They were children, after all. The oldest among them was a girl aged around 15, and the oldest boy was only 12 or 13 years old.
       The oldest girl had the youngest child in her arms, trying to comfort the crying two-years-old toddler while reining her fear and insecurity as well. She looked around the desolate cage. Everyone had the same expression on their faces; horror, loneliness, sorrow, homesickness, fear and other negative emotions. She could practically smell the despondency hanging thickly in the cage. However, one particular boy caught her eyes.
The boy was pretty, and she swore that he could pass as a girl. His golden hair hung delicately around his face, framing his childish round visage like a porcelain doll. His dark eyes were staring to a certain spot, and he was talking to himself. Yes, she was certain that he was talking to nobody in particular, but that was not the reason of her interest. The boy was calm and collected; no sense of fear, only slight apprehension and nervousness.
He seemed like he was just having a trip to an unknown place—which was true in a sense—while ignoring the fact that they were kidnapped by some bad guys.
       "Are you sure this is okay?" The boy spoke again to nobody in particular as he cocked his head sideways. His face looked so serious as if he was listening to an adult talking to him.
       All the children looked at him with bewilderment clear in their horror-stricken face.
       "But they took my necklace!" He protested, speaking only to the empty space before him.
        The children started giving each other suspicious and anxious looks. They had no idea on how to deal with that seemingly insane four-years-old. One little girl about six-years-old spoke with a voice that was too loud:
        "Is he crazy?"
Her question/statement echoed in the deafening silence of the cage, but nobody answered her. The little 'crazy' boy, however, did lower his voice and reduced his talking-to-himself into bare whispers. His face betrayed a bit of embarrassment and shame as he continued his monologue.
         "Imaginary friends, perhaps...?" The oldest girl responded rather absentmindedly.
         Her mother did tell her that some children; especially those at age four, played with some invisible friends that stemmed from their own imagination, and that children with imaginary friends tended to be more intelligence than their peers. Perhaps the boy was such case? Trying to ignore the pint-sized 'anomaly' in the ragtag group of smuggled children, the oldest girl returned to her self-proclaimed task as the comforter of the distraught children; soothing them as best as her 15-years-old self could.
        Little did she know that the little 'anomaly' boy was dealing with something beyond imaginary friends.