Tsunade sits in her nest of thorns, letting the light dance on the good-luck necklace that has sealed two too many fates, already.

At the bottom of the sink, there are two bowls and one pair of chopsticks. A film of evaporated broth coats the bowl a translucent yellow-green, and flecks of hard, dry rice from days long past stick to its sides.

Was it Mother's, from some night when she ate alone, left her chopsticks for Father to use when he returned home? Had he eaten it, some breakfast he poured down without thinking that it would be the last of its kind? (Or perhaps it was Itachi, knowing that it was.)

His body arches, and his legs skim down the length of Madara's underbelly, pelvis. Itachi's foot (sandal gone) squirms fishlike against Madara's cock, as Itachi starts to drown drown drown in air.

He emulates Shisui as best he can. And though it rips through his hand first, it flies and flies and it hits its target. Itachi curls his hand into his sleeve and looks at the sky bleeding red with sunset, hopes that is enough for today.

Father is not fooled. Be more careful, he grunts, as he kneels down forces Itachi's palm open. It strings sharply in the open air, and Itachi cringes. Fugaku gives him a look that says, I am sorry. I forget that you are only a child, and that children can be hurt by a good many things.

There's a sterility to his answers that mirrors the cold, fluorescent room, like some piece of them is left outside this door, wanders her house as it waits, collects in her corners and cupboards until the day is done and the dead are buried.

Meme!fic

silent_unions Pein/Konan meme (Naruto)

Fullmetal Alchemist: 2006-2009

And I actually wrote an Al/Elicia drabble for dreamer1789 a while back, which I can't find. XD But in the event that I ever do, this note exists to remind me to put it here.

Most of these, I would not have remembered writing if I hadn't found them, going through community archives. O_o;; I...kind of wish that I hadn't remembered ever writing any of these.

"A little science estranges a man from God, a lot of science brings him back."
Sir Francis Bacon

"She ran up to me and put her arms around me in an embrace. 'I'm back!' she whispered, softly, lovingly, as much an admission to herself as it was to me about how much she had been missed."

Thank-Yous and Sorrow

Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

My little brother cries. He believes I can heal it
If I want to. I believe
There is no hope.

Corrine Hales, “Taking Good Care of My Brother”

In memoriam – Heidi Burgess,
who has touched the lives of so many, both in life and in death.
May she live forever in serenity.