72 replies to this topic

[Yoko]

Thanks, but again, it was co-written. XD I do love how it came out, but I can't take all the credit. :3

[Recompense]

Yes you can! I just wrote the dialogue and a bit of stabby-stab.

[Yoko]

And now, for something completely different~

Almost-pointless Takeshi/Irae fic. It's interesting writing such a cracky pairing in a fandom in which crack pairings are practically impossible! And Takeshi's refreshing to write. =D Yay psychos!

Fandom: Siren
Characters: Takeshi, Irae
Warning: Uh, violence, and implied smexytiems.
Wordcount: 1805

Distraction --Click here to view--

On a cold, dark night, Takeshi Ukuzushi found himself sitting at a local bar, alone. Accompanied only by the glass filled with ice and amber-colored liquid. Piercing yellow eyes watched the ice melt, before taking a sip. His mind was running a mile a minute, never resting on one topic too long. He regretted his abilities in these moments, because it was essentially impossible to get himself drunk.

Which admittedly, he needed right now. Not that he would say this to anyone. So lost in these thoughts that he would never speak of, he could not help but jump slightly when a slender hand placed itself on his shoulder. When the offending hand's owner laughed, however, he relaxed.

"Irae," The man of 26 spoke. "What do you want?" He hadn't even looked at her, as his glass was apparently very fascinating. He heard her scoff.

"What do you think I want, oh-so-important leader of mine?"

Takeshi was quite obviously, not in a great mood. Which was when he was a dangerous person to be around. Well, he was always a dangerous person to be around, but when in a bad mood, even moreso. "To annoy me?" He murmured, simply blinking as she took the glass he had in his hand. And drank the rest of it herself.

"I'm in a bar," Irae grinned, enjoying the burn that came with whatever Takeshi was drinking. Probably scotch. She took a seat next to him, after grabbing a bottle of something for herself, Takeshi wasn't really paying attention. She poured some of it in his glass and passed it over to him. "So obviously, I want a drink."

He simply took a sip of the burning liquid in his glass before turning wolf-yellow eyes to stare at her for a few moments. "I would have thought you'd be at the ice cream stand."

"It's not open..." The firestarter sighed, drinking from the bottle. "Besides, you still owe me an ice cream cone!"

Takeshi simply watched her, uncharacteristically silent. Irae frowned and snatched his empty glass away, pouring him more alcohol. "Will you stop brooding about Akuma knows what, Takeshi? Thinking about shit you can't change isn't good for you~" She laughed, once again sliding the glass over to him.

A slight smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he made his next statement. "You speak from personal experience." Irae laughed in response and after a moment of consideration and some more alcohol, shrugged.

"Maybe... Maybe not! You never know, with us psychos." Her smile was becoming a little less distant, and she was slouching ever so slightly as she relaxed. Irae the Wildfire was a woman who was always on guard, even around those she trusted.

At this comment, Takeshi laughs. He pours himself some more alcohol, which he was beginning to think was whiskey or scotch. He couldn't get drunk, though the woman next to him obviously was.

They drank together in a comfortable silence. Irae much too content with the flammable liquid to be safe, and Takeshi grateful for the distraction she provided. After a while, Irae turns to him, elbow resting on the bartop, and her chin supported by her hand. Half-closed gray eyes look up as she asks her next question.

"Takeshi, how is it that you can jump out of an airship to fall 500 feet onto solid concrete, quite literally smash your face into the aforementioned concrete, and not go into shock from the pain alone?" It was a huge run-on sentence but Irae was a little less than clear-headed, so she didn't really care.

He answers the question without much hesitation. "Getting pushed through a wood chipper does wonders for your pain tolerance..."

Irae blinks, lifting her head a little. "... You're shittin' me. A wood chipper?" Giving it some thought, she grinned a little. One that would be slightly scary to anyone else. "So... You can deal with basically any kind of pain, now?"

"Well, it still hurts, but... Yeah." As he said this, that smile widened and Takeshi would never admit it, but he was beginning to see why Rai often ran in the opposite direction of Irae whenever he saw it.

"Then you wouldn't mind if I tried something, right?" She didn't wait for an answer. Grabbing his arm, she pulls him towards the large, decorative window. "Just an experiment..."

And with that, she clutched the white sleeves of his shirt and pushed him through the window with a strength not many have. It wasn't anything superhuman, but it was surprising, and something he had not expected from Irae.

Lying on the ground and wondering how exactly this happened, Takeshi doesn't notice Irae's close until she's sitting on top of him, watching a deep cut just above his eye heal. "It's fascinating, y'know that?" She murmurs, leaning a little too close for comfort, as if truly captivated by the abilities that she has always known he's had.

Takeshi laughed. It was a deranged sortof laugh, amused at the situation and thinking only that Irae proved to be a wonderful distraction. "Hey, Irae..." She made a questioning sound at him, but didn't pull back to make eye contact. A terrifying smirk on his face, Takeshi grabbed a shard of glass and slashed upwards, towards her face.

A gasp escaped past her lips and she moved back with slightly sluggish movements. Takeshi, not one to let an opening to go unnoticed, pushed her off of him, and pinned her to the ground. He grins widely, teeth bared in an almost feral fashion. Taking delight in the game she's provided him with. She was smiling, even as the blood ran down her jawline and past her neck. Under the thin tanktop she wore. His attention was brought to the wound he'd inflicted. One hand moved from her right wrist, to tilt her head up slightly. To inspect his handiwork. A deep gash extending only slightly past her jaw.

Blood pooled against pale white skin, a stark contrast in the dark lighting. He heard her chuckle, and felt fingers trail up his arm. He flinched only slightly when she left red, burning trails on his skin that healed as soon as she moved from one spot to another.

Those same fingers trail up his shoulder, across his neck. It burned and he didn't dare move, even as her thumb came to rest over the glyph tattoo on his neck. It was something she didn't really ask about, not because it was a taboo subject or anything, but really, she didn't need to know about it. It was interesting how it was always there after healing from a particularly nasty wound. Like a beheading.

Neither of them said anything for a while. Irae, with a hand at the back of his neck, fingertips burning into his skin, and Takeshi smearing her blood across pale skin with his own hand. His eyes glowed in the darkness of the corridor as he stared down at her, and that probably would've terrified anyone who's even just heard of him. But this is Irae and Irae's always been reckless and even sortof stupid and most of all, she knew him.

Then, in a moment that was almost beautiful in its insanity, Irae smirked. It was that deadly grin of hers that always meant she was going to do something that was either amazing, or incredibly stupid.

A burning fist smashed into the side of his face, and Takeshi's terrifying grin widened, even as blood dripped from a healing wound, forming a tiny splatter on Irae's cheek, next to her eye. Two hands placed themselves on his shoulders, burning through clothing and sizzling against his skin as she kicked him off.

When he grabbed her by the neck and slammed her into a wooden wall, Irae only laughed. The air was blisteringly hot around them and it burned at his eyes and in his mouth and on his tongue. Her hands were clutching at his short hair, singeingthe dark brown strands.

He slammed a fist into her gut and she doubled over from the force of it. Coughing from the harsh blow, Irae grasped his sleeve with one burning hand as she caught her breath. She chuckled, a dark, low sound that Takeshi barely heard.

In the next moment, Irae's lips were on his own, her teeth biting down on his lower lip. Takeshi took a step back and she pushed him into a nearby doorway, neither of them knowing quite where it lead. Her hand once again was pulling at the hair at the back of his head and his skin burned as if on fire, which probably wasn't that much of a stretch.

Most people in this situation would try to stop her in some way. Hell, he knew Rai would. But he was not Rai and he certainly wasn't complaining. This was such a delightful game, and Takeshi had never been one to lose.

Irae's head hit a splintered wooden wall, but they never lost contact. She pushed against him, trying to regain control even as her hands tugged at his shirt that was ruined with holes and burns. But in a contest of physical force with Takeshi, Irae was well-aware that she could not win.

One hand found itself under the thin shirt she wore, tanned fingers trailing across her hip and up her spine, traveling across scars and bruises that he knew were forming there. He did not miss the way she tensed when his fingers brushed across the large scar that took up a good portion of her back. He hadn't known it was there, but Takeshi was not surprised.

Burning lips and slightly pointed teeth grazed along his neck, her hands tugging what was left of his shirt to the side. Tanned skin turned red wherever she touched, only to quickly fade in the next moment.

Takeshi manages to rid Irae of her shirt, and out of the corner of his eye, somehow is able to tell that they moved to what looks like a cellar. He's just not sure when they moved. He also finds he doesn't care.

And he's pretty sure he won't give a shit about the how or why this happened. Until the next day, at least. But even that's doubtful.

Takeshi Ukuzushi discovers, for most likely the third time that night, that Irae was a wonderful distraction. So wonderful, in fact, that he cannot even remember what was bothering him so badly that he attempted to drown his sorrows in alcohol. Which they both knew was impossible for him.

It must not have been too important, if he couldn't remember. Besides, the distractions in life were much more fun than the important stuff. So Takeshi decides to focus on those for a while.

Funny thing, I wrote a good part of this whilst listening to Mika, of all things. Nothing quite like writing violencefic to "Love Today." 8D

[Saku-chan]

This was awesome.

Dude you totally got the feel of, crazy, drunken distraction.

How high up was the window? XD

I had pictured it as being in a skyscraper for some reason, but I don't think it is now. XDDD

[Yoko]

More fic! That I wrote... a month ago. Or something like that. D8 I've been lazy about posting it. Essentially, it's what would have happened if Irae stayed with the good guys long enough to see the PHAIL that is revived!Takeshi. Rather, Not-Takeshi. Or, Lieseshi. :c

Anyway, details:

Fandom: Siren
Characters: Takeshi, Irae, a little bit of Sakura
Warning: Cursing. little bit of violence.
Wordcount: 1214

You are not Takeshi. --Click here to view--

Sakura turned, storming down the hallway in a rush of expensive clothing and anger and tears he really didn't notice because he was too preoccupied with his own. Tears spilled and splashed against the floor next to his feet, shed from weeping green eyes. He stood there for a long time, hearing what she said over and over and over and it just wouldn't stop. How had this happened? What had he done wrong?

So caught up in his thoughts and trying to figure out what the hell he could've done to prevent her leaving, he barely notices the hand grasping his shoulder, forcing him to turn around. What he does notice, is the open palm smashing into the side of his face. His head jerks to the side, still-green eyes widening.

When he finally(albeit slowly) turns to face whoever had hit him, he's faced with gray eyes glaring back at him, and a pale face framed by silver-blonde hair. He opened his mouth to say something, but the girl in front of him wouldn't have it.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" She practically exploded at him, "You're crying your eyes out over a girl-- The one that murdered you, remember?" Irae grabs the collar of his shirt with two hands that burn holes through the white fabric.

"You," One of those burning hands grasped his neck and he winced, noticing the way she glared at him in disgust as he did so. "Are not Takeshi!" The girl promptly smashed his head against the wall and he couldn't see anything for a while. Takeshi was dizzy and he swore he was bleeding-- Had Irae always been so strong? She held him there, hands burning through his skin, only for it to heal, and start the process over, and over. The heat in the air was almost unbearable.

"Takeshi Ukuzushi was murdered." The first thing that focuses in his vision are her eyes, burning with loathing and disgust. She looked at him as if he were worth nothing. "He died, two weeks ago. You're just an imitation-- A halfass creation of a deity that can't fight her own war." She leaned in close then, and her breath burned at his eyes and his skin and his mouth and he almost flinched away, green eyes wide. "It's fucking pathetic."

Irae shoved him away, no more of that hatred in her eyes-- Just that look. Like he was merely dirt under her shoe, and no longer worth wasting effort on. The air cooled as she turned, swiftly walking down the hallway. "I'm going home. Have fun playing house with your empress." She turned the corner, and was gone.

Leaving Takeshi there, fingering one of the burn holes in his collar. He stays there for a while, not quite sure how much time has past, but not really caring. Sakura was gone and Irae just left and was there really any more point to him being there?

Then the next thing he knows he's walking down the hallway and out of the damn ship into whatever city they've stopped at. His eyes are burning with hatred. Hatred towards Sakura for making him this way, hatred towards himself for letting him become this way.

He kept hearing Irae's insults and accusations. He heard these words that he thought would haunt him forever because it was true and he couldn't deny any of it. And Takeshi doesn't know how it happened or how he got there, but he was in rather secluded part of the city. A park, it looked like.

With a sigh, he placed a hand to his forehead. He... Needed to sort his thoughts. Set his priorities in order. So, he headed into one of the public bathrooms. Leaning forward slightly, hands placed on the edge of the sink, Takeshi stares at his reflection. Messy hair had grown longer than he had really ever liked, bangs covering currently-yellow eyes. He wore a wrinkled t-shirt and worn jeans and sneakers and it was everything he'd sworn he'd never wear in public. His hands formed fists and his knuckles turned white.

Takeshi's grip on the sink loosened and he raised a hand. He didn't know what he was going to do but he really wasn't thinking about it. Rai was the one to overthink things, especially when it came to Irae and if you always thought about things, then you'd never take action, so Takeshi was a--

The thought was brought to an abrupt halt as his fist slammed into the mirror, shattering it. The glass cut into his skin, but he barely felt it. He didn't know if it was from adrenaline or the hatred or anything similar to that. Blood smeared on the broken pieces of mirror, but his hand healed almost instantly. A frustrated sigh escaped him, and just as he was about to leave, someone walked in.

A teenager, it looked like. Dirty-blond hair and headphones that played bad music at twice the volume it really needed to be played at and wrinkled clothes not unlike the ones he was wearing. At the reminder of that, Takeshi growled. It was a quiet, dangerous sound that he didn't even hear, let alone the boy who'd just walked in.

And he didn't even think as he lunged at the teen, punching and kicking throwing him into what remained of the mirror. The child cursed at him, headphones lying forgotten somewhere on the floor and the kid had a pocketknife. Takeshi felt himself smirk a little. Amused, maybe?

His hands were around the boy's neck, grip tightening and squeezing and the boy was flailing, limbs moving needlessly, and the knife nicked his neck and his face before the wounds healed. There wasn't even any blood. Maybe he should have brought his sword, but Takeshi thinks that maybe he wouldn't appreciate this as much if he did.

Eventually, the boy stops moving. He goes limp, and Takeshi is somewhat startled at the thoughts he's had, and the one that he has now. He's disappointed that it was already over. There are doubts, but those are so far back in his mind that he is hardly aware they exist.

His lips spread into a wide, toothy grin as he exits the bathroom. He soon makes his way back to the Siren. Making a note to steal someone's money so he can get newer clothes, he headed to Sakura's room. To gather what weapons and possessions he had collected. He would stay here. But for his own reasons. Certainly not for the empress. Or, so he told himself.

As he exited, he passed Sakura. Wolf-yellow eyes seemed to somehow brighten as they glared at her, the exp​ression in them fitting all too well with the mocking grin he gave her. He didn't say a word, and just simply went on his way, down the hall. To the room he was originally assigned.

He did not miss the look on her face. Those stormy blue eyes widened and she looked more horrified than Takeshi had ever seen her. With a dark chuckle, he turned the corner, deciding that he rather liked how that particular emotion of fear looked on the face of what was once his sworn enemy.

[Saku-chan]

DUN DUN DUN DU~~~~~N!

I love Irae~! >.< She's so badass.

[Yoko]

Hah, I try, Saku-chan. ♥ Thanks!

As if I haven't done enough of these, and I doubt people are reading them, but I'm here anyway. Another Rai piece. Sortof. I think?

Fandom: Airship: Siren
Characters: Rai, Irae. Mentions of Takeshi, Sakura and Noros.
Warnings: None!
Wordcount: 828

He could never blame her. --Click here to view--

He knows the life he leads is dangerous and unhealthy and wrong, but it is the life that he has been given, and Rai doesn't know any other. It is the life that he thought he'd continue to lead until it eventually killed him.

But then Ryu was murdered and Takeshi had supposedly been killed as well, and Irae... She was gone. Nothing was as it should be. This life that he had finally become at least a little comfortable with, had so easily been changed and destroyed. Nothing was as it used to be, and nothing would be the same, ever again.

Rai knows, that if Irae were still with him, then it would not seem so bad. This applied to most situations, and he hates that he has to rely on someone who personifies everything he is not. Everything that he could never be. Everything, that he was sure he hated.

He loves her, but he thinks that he desperately needs to escape the grasp she unknowingly holds him in. It's an intense, suffocating thing, quite like the fire she wields. If she had been captured, then he would have known. His father has spies just about everywhere, and Irae would have at least burned their ship down. So, the logical answer was, that she'd defected.

And so, Rai decides to kill her, if faced with her in battle. And if she truly has defected, then he knows he will. And maybe, just maybe... After she was dead, then he could regain his sense of self.

And he tries. Akuma knows he tries. But in that destroyed warehouse, he looks at her. The way she smiles and laughs, the way she changes when entering an awakened state. Her body language shifts, and she moves slower. Becoming untouchable yet vulnerable all at the same time. The way that the flimsy front of sanity shatters. He should hate it, he should hate her, but he doesn't.

He doesn't hate her and he's exhausted from trying and convincing himself that he does. That he has to. When he wraps his arms around her, he simply gives in. And of all the reactions he'd expected, including her burning him to a crisp, she does the one thing he'd never even considered.

The heat dies down and his skin stops burning. Her hands clutch the back of his ruined coat, and... She cries. Irae the Wildfire cries as the fire fades away, leaving the cement under their feet scorched. The warehouse is gone, but Rai isn't really paying attention because she's clinging to him and crying and apologizing, and this is something he's never seen from her. This is something he had given up on.

Irae accepts him, on the day that he finds out that she is a traitor to everything he's known. Before he can dwell on this any more, they are interrupted. The best moment of his life, the one he'd always been waiting for, ever since he'd met her. Ruined by an idiotic swordsman, who would probably just get killed later.

The moment passes, and what happens after isn't as important as the moment itself was. At the very least, he's positive that it is hugely important to him, though he's not sure if it's as important to her. From then on, they meet time and time again on the battlefield. Rai tries his hardest, but he finds he cannot put forth much effort, when faced with her. It's a horrible weakness, and he curses himself for being so vulnerable.

Then, Noros dies.

Noros dies and he says something he's not quite sure of, the words leaving his mouth before his mind has time to think about what he's saying. He runs then, back to the ship that they arrived in. He wasn't thinking. Just running. Only, he's not quite sure what he's running away from.

Then, just before he reaches his destination, he sees her. She's running and stumbling and he moves before he knows what he's doing. She's falling when he catches up to her. Rai brings her back to the ship even though he knows he shouldn't. She's a traitor and by all rules and regulations and everything he thought was right, he should've just let her die.

But as she clutches his worn, burnt jacket, uttering frenzied apologies and crying while he holds her, Rai's not sure if he can let her go. He tells her that he forgives her what scares him, is that it's true. He does not hold her defection against her. He does not hate her, even though Noros has died.

He forgives her. And he knows now, as she lay sleeping in his arms, that he would always forgive her. It is something he cannot help. He blames other people. Sakura and her minions, himself, and even Takeshi, for starting it all by giving Sochi to the leader of their sworn enemy.

But he could never blame her.

[Saku-chan]

I like Rai's point of view in contrast with Irae's. It's very refreshing. :3

[Yoko]

'kay, I blame Compy for this. It's... weird and I feel sortof bad posting it, but I want to write drabbley things in this wierd AU, so...

Yeah.

Here's the basis/reference/whatever.

DDD8

Fandom: Siren(AU)
Characters: Irae, Rai
Warning: Violence and some cursing. D8 OHNOES.
Wordcount: 577

OhdeargawdwhywontthebunniDIE. --Click here to view--

It has been years, and he's not quite sure who he is anymore. He remembers people. People who used to be alive, and people who were alive when he left, but he doesn't know who they are, beyond names.

It has been too long, and he has changed.

When he stabs her, the curved dagger buried deep in her gut, she smiles. Her hair is longer now, and she's laughing, blonde bangs messy due to the battle. It was long now, and he remembered a time where it was always cut short and rarely cared for beyond what was necessary.

"Y'know, Rai," She grunted a little as he twists the blade, but let out a pained laugh, gray eyes brightened. There was a scar on the right side of her mouth. He does not remember much of her, but he is sure that it wasn't there before.

"It's good to know you've finally grown a fucking spine." There is no harshness in her words, and he doesnt' have time to reflect on it because she grabs his hand and pushes the blade deeper. Her blood touches his fingertips.

He almost jerks back in disgust. Blood was messy and disgusting and sticky when it dried. It stained everything. He is too distracted by the blood on his hand to notice the heated fingers on his face, until it's too late.

Her lips aren't soft. They never were, and Rai is not sure what to think of these emotions and memories that are suddenly surfacing. He did not want them and they almost didn't even feel like they were his.

She tasted of blood and ashes and almost a little like rain and he suddenly sees her as she was before. Short hair messy and a deep gash on her face asking for a bandaid and bitter, fake smiles and his astonishment at merely being allowed to help her, to touch her. And for a moment, he lets himself indulge.

He loses himself somewhere between the past and the present as he grips her shoulder with one hand and smearing her own blood on her back with the other. Rai is not aware he's trembling, blackened eyes closed and he simply tries to be as close as he can to her. To this very important link to his past. He cannot think of anything but her and how it's been so long. So long since he'd run away--

Run away from what?

He can no longer remember.

Rai pulls away and is thrust back into the present. The world is suddenly brighter and he has a massive headache and he knows the blackness has faded from his eyes. He sees clearly for the first time in ages. He sees her, this woman who was and apparently still is so important to him.

She's still smiling as she grasps his shoulders, arms draping around them, hands clasped together below the back of his neck. Irae is shaking, and he remembers the dagger. And the blood on his fingers and that by all rights she should be dead or dying.

He jerks back, stepping away from her. His face is kept carefully blank and though the world seems brighter he is not sure if he should finish the job or keep her alive. But then she falls and he cannot stop himself from catching her.

For just a little longer, he would keep her alive. This woman who represented so much of the past that he thought he had forgotten.

I have a lot more written, but it's not very chronological at ALL. 8D; I'll post other parts later as I finish them, maybe... >.>

[Sakura Blossoms]

Wow, powerful! It's really very interesting to see Rai and Irae truly pitted against each other. And I always love how you describe scenes <3

[Yoko]

Hey! I'm totally not dead. I'm also high on cake. :3

Also, have a drabble. Thing. It's fluffier than what I usually write, and written in that wierd, Dark!Rai AU that I never post.

A Strange Mood --Click here to view--

"You're in a strange mood today, Rai..." Her tone was sleepy, merely shifting as one of his hands drifted across her hip and around her waist to pull her closer. She was too tired to think about it, to think about how nostalgic but strange it all felt.

"... It feels like a strange day," He murmurs in response, his touches gentle but not hesitant as they used to be. There was an unspoken plea in the way he held her, the way he curled a lock of too-long blond hair around his finger.

She said something about the day not having even begun yet, and then there was silence. It was not something completely awkward, but not yet as comfortable as it had once been, between them.

Irae was not as warm as he remembered. Her skin wasn't ice cold, but she had lost some of her warmth. It was only when they fought-- Only then, did she regain that heat that he had come to remember so well.

It was times like these, however, that made him the most nostalgic.Even though she wasn't as warm and smelled a little different. They did not have many mornings like this even back then, but when they did...

It was a time where Rai could honestly say that he was happy.

He heard her sigh and shift, turning to face him, gray eyes still sleepy. "Rai," She murmured again, a tired sortof grin on her face, "You're doin' it again." A breath, and Irae moves much closer, an arm wrapping around his torso in what he wants to call a hug, but he's never associated hug with her.

"Maybe," Came out in a murmur of a response, something quiet and whispered against her shoulder. Her skin was deceivingly smooth, and he cannot remember a time where he's ever seen her so tired but content at the same time.

A thumb brushed over her face to trace the faint scar that started at her jawline and almost reached her eye. He had never asked her about it, and even though he knew her long before she had gotten it, he could not imagine her without it. When she opened her eyes, she blinked sleepily, a look of tired confusion that was more tired than confused. His other hand trailed down to rest at her hip and it isn't the first time he's noticed how thin she's gotten. But it doesn't really matter, that hand following a thin line, scars overlapping on her back. These are new marks, from wounds he was not there to witness.

When she opens her mouth to say something, he kisses her. It is not something they have shared in years, his hand still brushing the side of her face, gentle and soft and everything he thought-- he swore he would never be.

But it was too late, she had changed him. He was not what he was before, hesitant and afraid of something he could no longer quite remember. However, he was not the.... Thing he was when he saw her again. Rai wasn't quite sure what he was, anymore, but it didn't matter.

Because she was here, warm and cold, smooth and rough all at the same time.(Her hands were cold when she held his own, and those scars of her had cut deep, new and old.) It was the only thing that mattered. This was something he was sure of, something that cemented in his mind when she kissed him back, her fingers with nails that were no longer chipped or dirty laced through his own.

He heard her sigh quietly as buried his nose into the crook of her neck, his free hand moving to her shoulder. Rai had always loved her neck, it was slender, curving gracefully to her shoulder without being too long. And the heat there reminded him of so much...

"You were so warm..." That hand returned to the dip in her waist, just lying there for a few moments before moving to her lower back, resting above her spine.

"Why aren't you warm?"

Irae turned her eyes to the ceiling, fingers idly twisting a lock of his dark brown hair. "... Why are you so cold, Rai?"

He sat up, blue eyes widened a little as he looked at her. "I--" He tried to respond, tried to explain but he couldn't. It was something that just... Happened. Something that happened and something he relied on to survive. Rai closed his mouth after a moment or two trying to say something, anything.

For a while, it was quiet. That sortof almost-awkward silence as he thought of how he could possibly respond. "I'm... Not the only one who's changed, Irae."

She chuckled then. “No.” It was a quiet sound that was a little off, but not entirely without mirth.

"No, you aren't."

I really should bake more often. ♥ And write, but I find myself lacking in inspiration. D:

[BlackLightning]

HOLY CR** YOKO IS ALIVE!!!

[Black Rose]

Everybody decided to get out of their lurking holes... Whoa! We are getting more and more active!