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Ficbit Requests
I haven't done one of these for awhile, and I'm bored, and I feel a need to be productive about something therefore. Ficbit request time! Give me a characters, series, and/or circumstance, and I shall try my merry damnedest to give you fic in return. Length is debatable. Quality will be VERY debatable. Prose will possibly be purple. Pr0n will possibly be HORRIBLY BAD. But ohgodheregoes.
Fandoms as (vaguely) listed:
Bleach
Naruto
Fullmetal Alchemist
Shamanic Princess
Kingdom Hearts (and uh, by extension. Disney. Shaddup. I LIKE MY URSULAFIC DAMNIT)
My-HiME
Samurai Champloo
Avatar: The Last Airbender (...I make no guarantees on this one though. Except that I LOVE THIS FAKE ANIME and EVERYONE NEEDS TO SEE EP 13 LIKE NOW)
Zombie Powder
D.Gray-man
The Incredibles (why not.)
Whooboy.
Fandoms as (vaguely) listed:
Bleach
Naruto
Fullmetal Alchemist
Shamanic Princess
Kingdom Hearts (and uh, by extension. Disney. Shaddup. I LIKE MY URSULAFIC DAMNIT)
My-HiME
Samurai Champloo
Avatar: The Last Airbender (...I make no guarantees on this one though. Except that I LOVE THIS FAKE ANIME and EVERYONE NEEDS TO SEE EP 13 LIKE NOW)
Zombie Powder
D.Gray-man
The Incredibles (why not.)
Whooboy.
no subject
D.Gray-man: Slight of Hand
The mother is quick to catch up with him. Hands around his shoulder and cheeks flushed. “Johan,” she clucks, sternly, steering him away. She’s a handsome woman, tall and stalwart. Her hair done up in a thick, red braid. “That is very rude--”
“Oh, no!” says Allen, quickly. He can’t bear to let the situation stand. “It’s all right--”
Her eyes dart along his jacket cautiously; no doubt a woman of the faith, and no doubt having expected someone much older, with his hair so white.
“I do know a few tricks?” he offers, with a smile. There’s a blue handkerchief dangling from his sleeve. He extends his arm-- slowly, so as not to startle anyone--and he lets the child take a hold and tug. The result is six feet long with bells on it. The boy laughs in surprise. The children of the square end up gathered around. He shakes coins out of a glove and does a one-armed balancing trick on a little girl’s ball. Afterwards he bows and the village parents applaud. Afterwards Johan’s mother takes him aside and with her stern, stalwart expression addresses him.
“Are you waiting for the train, Exorcist.”
“Ah, well, yes--”
“That is the first time he has laughed since his sister died.”
The woman’s gaze is strong and knowing on him. His expression sobers. He raises his right hand palm up. “…I hope then, that--”
She takes his left, between both of hers. Her fingers are calloused from many years of work and hardship. She seems to think nothing of the knotted rises under the fabric of his glove, hard and unnatural. “God be with you,” she says to him, simple and sure.
“And you,” Allen Walker answers, with a gentle nod. It’s the train whistle that eventually summons him away. He leaves the bells behind, for the children.
Re: D.Gray-man: Slight of Hand
thank you~~~~~~
Re: D.Gray-man: Slight of Hand