Moments in Neverwhere

Disclaimer: I own--!

Shaman King fanart work. Takei gets everything else. -prolonged sulk-

Author's Note: Written for Livejournal's 100Themes, a wondrous community from which I took a prolonged and uncalled for break, and therefore had to write for the minute I got back. This resulted from that unhappy jostling, which was basically me going OMGMUSTWRITE SO SORRY.

Read on.

Theme #071: Mark

They line her skin, the inside of her mind, everywhere she touches until her eyes are wretched with color, dazed and dizzy with the patterns that fill her skin.

In her bed (alone) blank-eyed so that sleep treads a wary path around her thoughts, the itako touches her fingers to her lips in an unfurling smile.


Bruises are blood breaking under the surface Anna blood breaking where it doesn't show except in a seep of color like a rainbow.



"Are you trying to replace him?" Offhanded, nonchalant, the cruelty of a child.

He was too angry, by then, to take it as a joke; blood on his lip, in his (clenched) fists, in the scene she could see reflected in the black of his eyes.

His knuckles swept across her skin, her collarbones, dipping lower and lower like the dragging of a nail across a piano until it struck her hipbone so that the pain jolted through her mind, a bright flash of lightning. He said nothing.

She watched him, dark eyes flat, opaque.

"You won't, you know. You're his twin, but not his equal."

"He is a part of me now." He made a gesture.

She laughed, thin and echoing.

Perhaps it was that which pushed him over.


(Five bruises where he'd clenched her arm, livid purple against the whiteness of her skin like something sullied, something broken. And the one, just a tiny mark that was green and black and a myriad of shades, like a tattoo gone wrong over her heart.)

So much, she thought sardonically, for his vaunted self-control.

And she smiled.


Author's Note: I finally updated this! And You're Mine, which was a rather daunting task - and which, perversely, I am now very proud of as it haslanguage, vocabulary, andAnna (not) dressed up for a date! -and now the birthdayfic I wanted to finish is looming up ahead along with a thousand other birthday fic I wanted to try... EE.

Run-on sentences can kill. They can run you into a wall, for a start.

Reviews: are beloved, as always.