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kh_drabbleDrabble time. Last minute entries. Because, clearly, I have issues with getting around to ever posting things. Err.
Challenge: Chain of Memories
Title: Tangled
Word Count: 135. Shortest yet! ^^
Notes: Slight Marluxia/Namine, if you squint. Or read deep into context. Yeah. It's a guilty pleasure of mine.
Children’s games always amuse him, he thinks, as he twists and he turns her around. She has long resigned herself to being patient and listening, and after what seems like lightyears in the castle, she has learnt rather quickly that she cannot, will not, shall not attempt rebellion - it is futile to dream that his scythe won’t reach for her throat in its vicious glory, that her arm won’t be grabbed, and that she will not be shaken to her senses as cruel words whisper in her ear.
Now spin me a memory, Naminé.
Yes, Marluxia.
She is caught in the tangled webs of her own illusions, and the power-hungry jaws of others. Gloved fingertips curl around her face, drawing her face to his, and she shudders, sandals scrabbling on polished tile.
Good girl.
Challenge: Chain of Memories
Title: Tryst
Word Count: 126! WHOO!
Notes: Zexion/Larxene. Mrr?
His arm loops around her waist easily, snagging her underneath the ribs and tugging her to a halt. He does this, sometimes, in passing - not rudely, but not in an entirely gentle way, either. A faint smirk slides across his lips as he brushes them to the curve of her jaw, and she lifts her head, turning slowly to face him.
“You’re being foolish,” he says, a slight grim lilt to his normally bored tone, gloved fingers brushing her blonde hair for a moment, before twining his fingers with hers.
“You’re being foolish, Zexion,” she repeats, a smug smile playing on her features, as she pulls away, continuing down the hall.
These trysts they play at... they cannot last forever.
Challenge: None. Nngrr.
Title: Why?
Word Count: 143
Notes: Zexion-fic. Because he's my favourite. But - argh argh argh >_< I wrote this intending it to turn out better. I'm kind of iffy on it. It's... awkward. I don't like it enough to let it take up a precious slot of the maximum two entries... but I still like it enough to post it.
Zexion is lying on the floor.
“Why?” is the question he wants an answer to. Why he gets the sudden urge to just lie down in the middle of the room, flat on his back, staring at the cold white ceiling. He can feel his coat rumpling under him, the leather scrunching unpleasantly, his hood an uncomfortable lump under his shoulders. And he turns his head, resting blue eyes on Lexaeus, who has entered the room.
And before the other elder can say a word, Zexion explains himself, shamelessly, his eyes closing briefly.
“I wonder if I used to do this when I had a Heart.”
Lexaeus says nothing, calm and quiet, and just gives a solemn nod.
Crossposted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
kh_drabble and ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gunneryunagirl.
Challenge: Chain of Memories
Title: Tangled
Word Count: 135. Shortest yet! ^^
Notes: Slight Marluxia/Namine, if you squint. Or read deep into context. Yeah. It's a guilty pleasure of mine.
Children’s games always amuse him, he thinks, as he twists and he turns her around. She has long resigned herself to being patient and listening, and after what seems like lightyears in the castle, she has learnt rather quickly that she cannot, will not, shall not attempt rebellion - it is futile to dream that his scythe won’t reach for her throat in its vicious glory, that her arm won’t be grabbed, and that she will not be shaken to her senses as cruel words whisper in her ear.
Now spin me a memory, Naminé.
Yes, Marluxia.
She is caught in the tangled webs of her own illusions, and the power-hungry jaws of others. Gloved fingertips curl around her face, drawing her face to his, and she shudders, sandals scrabbling on polished tile.
Good girl.
Challenge: Chain of Memories
Title: Tryst
Word Count: 126! WHOO!
Notes: Zexion/Larxene. Mrr?
His arm loops around her waist easily, snagging her underneath the ribs and tugging her to a halt. He does this, sometimes, in passing - not rudely, but not in an entirely gentle way, either. A faint smirk slides across his lips as he brushes them to the curve of her jaw, and she lifts her head, turning slowly to face him.
“You’re being foolish,” he says, a slight grim lilt to his normally bored tone, gloved fingers brushing her blonde hair for a moment, before twining his fingers with hers.
“You’re being foolish, Zexion,” she repeats, a smug smile playing on her features, as she pulls away, continuing down the hall.
These trysts they play at... they cannot last forever.
Challenge: None. Nngrr.
Title: Why?
Word Count: 143
Notes: Zexion-fic. Because he's my favourite. But - argh argh argh >_< I wrote this intending it to turn out better. I'm kind of iffy on it. It's... awkward. I don't like it enough to let it take up a precious slot of the maximum two entries... but I still like it enough to post it.
Zexion is lying on the floor.
“Why?” is the question he wants an answer to. Why he gets the sudden urge to just lie down in the middle of the room, flat on his back, staring at the cold white ceiling. He can feel his coat rumpling under him, the leather scrunching unpleasantly, his hood an uncomfortable lump under his shoulders. And he turns his head, resting blue eyes on Lexaeus, who has entered the room.
And before the other elder can say a word, Zexion explains himself, shamelessly, his eyes closing briefly.
“I wonder if I used to do this when I had a Heart.”
Lexaeus says nothing, calm and quiet, and just gives a solemn nod.
Crossposted to
kh_drabble and gunneryunagirl.
