A/N: third year running! THIS fic, at least, will always be on schedule!
Still More Love Stories
by Shadow Crystal Mage
Disclaimer: I do not own Candy Boy, Aki Sora, The Wheel of Time, Haiyore! Nyarko-san, To Aru Kagaku no Railgun, Negima, Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei, the URAE series, Bubblegum Crisis 2040, Omamori Himari, the Bible (IT BE AWESOME, READ IT TOO!), or the concept of love. Please don't sue me.
She still had them. The first, from when he was four, was a painstakingly, precisely made thing, a labour in crayon and construction paper. She remembered him toiling over it, the crayon held tight in his little fist as he painstakingly carved out the words. The resulting letters had been bold and thick, and had been correctly spelled even if it went into the border of the card a little.
The childish script read, "Happy Valentines Day Nekane, Love Negi."
She had more like it, the quality of word and art increasing with every new one. The next year had included glitter, the year after that, macaroni. The next one, the first after… that… had promised her he would always be there to protect her, and had included a cute, lopsided picture of a brave magister Negi protecting his princess Nekane. She wept when she saw that.
A year later, he discovered Hallmark cards. She remembered the selfish twinge in her chest at seeing it, so clean and precise and manufactured, without the touches of him that had come before. But he'd written to say he loved her, and he was busy with his studies. She got the same the year after that.
And then he was gone, gone to a distant land to be like his father, and she had little by which to remember him by.
Months passed. And then…
Nekane stared at the box of chocolate, the bouquet of flowers, and lastly at the card. It was hand-made, painted with an enormous tree, under which a crude drawing of Negi holding a heart stood. For all his skills with magic diagrams, he still couldn't draw that well. It rad, "I miss you. Wish you were here. Love, Negi."
He'd written some strangely metered eastern poem inside, about her, and more pictures of the girls in his class, especially his roommates. As she stared at them, she felt a small, very small, jealous twinge. How many of these girls had gotten cards from him too?
Still, she couldn't help but cry a little. Her little brother still wasn't so grown up as she'd feared after all.
Prompts to the Autumn Sky
Surprise. "Aki? But… you left…"
Tenderness. "I did… but I never said I wouldn't come back…"
Ecstasy. "Sora… my Sora…"
Eventually. "Do you…?"
Determination. "I do."
Repetition. "And do you…?"
Fulfillment. "I do."
Destiny. "I now pronounce you man and wife."
Riding Upon The Winds Of Time
Sometimes, he walked the road alone, just him, his horse if he had one, and the wind. The flute gave him bed some nights, and if he didn't, then his arms did. Even years later, there was still rebuilding to be done. He worked in the north, in Malkier and Shienar and the rest of the Borderlands. They were a border no more. There was nothing to be a border to.
He worked in the east, in Cairhien and Mayenne and the Three-fold Land. Just because toh had been met did not mean they had to leave if they didn't want to. He played, and struggled to tell stories and wondered if someday the Aiel would sing again.
He worked in the south, in boiling heat and fish, and even back in Far Madding. Without allies, the city seemed more forlorn now. They had not signed his peace. He supposed it was a bit petty not to invite them, but still. The sword remembers the fire. He is not fond of it.
He worked west, in the islands of the Sea Folk and the lands of the Seanchan. He saw and itched, but did nothing. He was dead. There was nothing to be done. Perhaps next time, when all this came back again…
He walked the roads just him and the wind, but not always. Sometimes, Min walked with him, smiling impishly, giggling over the froth Fortuona must be making at not having her Doomseer. Sometimes Aviendha walked with him, walking slowly and a bit painfully, the wretch that was once Graendal in tow just in sight. Sometimes, Elayne walked with him briefly. And sometimes, very, very rarely, they were all with him, and there was nothing but him, them, the road and the wind. And Graendal, but she didn't count.
He could never choose. They never asked him to. After all, how did one choose between three sunrises?
Crawling With A Smile
It is said her kind cause madness in those that see them… that their true forms were abnormal, unspeakable, blasphemous, ominous, chaotic, unholy and not very nice to look at.
But… some things, like the bestness of Earth En-ter-tain-ment in the universe, went beyond shape.
A tentacle stroked the image, the appendage a monstrous, horrible thing from the darkest nightmares of the cosmos. Yasaka Mahiro…
Somewhere deep inside, a maiden's heart went doki doki.
Only My Railguns
People thought the Misaka imouto were identical. Cookie-cutter duplicates of one another, all the same, bound by the Radio Noise hive mind, with no true wills of their own.
Mikoto Misaka was disabused of this notion when five imouto came up to her, and asked her to settle a dispute between two of them. One, apparently, had developed the habit of teasing the other too much, and the others had become concerned. The guilty Misaka imouto in question had been blandly obstinate, while the victim had been blandly downtrodden.
"Why me?" she'd asked. "Can't you settle this yourselves?"
The one who'd explained, a Misaka who wore a single stud earring on her left ear, just said, "We tried, Misaka explained sheepishly. 18093 will not stop teasing 15430. It has begun adversely affecting the hive mind. We require a resolution."
Misaka, annoyed, had given in and given 18093 a stern talking to and, when it appeared she was being less than contrite, made the very stern promise that if she teased her sister again, Misaka herself would kick her ass. Now go apologize to your sister and be nice to her, or else.
As she watched them go, she found herself mildly exasperated. They were such children. But, it seemed, they were her children. And the strange thing was, they seemed to think so too.
They began coming to her after that. One asked her to take her to a hero show. Another asked her how to cook. Two wanted her to resolve which of them owned a Gekota doll they'd found in the trash. One, a very small one, had dragged Accelerator over to her and had them apologize to each other. She still wasn't sure what that was about. One night, when the city's schools had shut down because of an imminent storm, she arrived in her room to find four imoutos and an exasperated Kuroko, the former asking in their bland way if they could sleep there. And once, in a very, very awkward conversation, an imouto had come to ask her advice if it was okay to sleep with a sister because, "it wasn't like they could get each other pregnant or anything, Misaki mumbled".
Misaki owed them nothing anymore. She'd done what she could, faced Accelerator himself, defied the very city.
She helped them anyway. She was mother and sister to them. It was what one did for your children.
When she came back from what Leon had grinningly called Knightsaber Nudie Island— which he'd promptly been smacked by Priss for— Mackie had been waiting. Nene slowed as she saw him, eyeing him nervously. The places on his arms where tendrils had erupted were smooth and unmarked. His face was the same as it had always been, with no strange veins or flickers of uncanny madness lurking. He was just… him. The way his eyes lit up when he saw her, how he began to smile, his lips beginning to shape her name.
"Nene!" he cried, and there was pure emotion in his voice. It was hard to believe he was a boomer.
So she didn't.
"Mackie!" she greeted back, beginning to run towards him.
He was Mackie, whole and entire. So what if he wasn't made the same as her? Men were already from Mars. Robo-Mars made no difference.
Now, a distant part of her thought as his warm, oh so warm, soft, gentle arms held her as if he never intended to let go, she just had to get on Sylia's good side. She looked the possessive sister type…
All Star Candy Boy
Twin Sisters. Longing Looks. Tender Smiles. Always Together.
It shouldn't have worked out between them. They were from two different series, both over now. One was from a fighting-shounen in the guise of a harem comedy, the other was from a mindscrew series that often did biting social satire and lampshade hanging of common genre conventions. All they had in common was the same publisher, and some episodes done by Studio SHAFT. Their characterizations had little in common, and in canon they didn't explicitly swing that way.
But for some reason, they kept running into each other. When Overmaster was expending the worlding of Unequally Rational and Emotional, her series was chosen to be in the background. They didn't meet at first, not until the dodgeball chapter, and even then there wasn't time to socialized in the middle of playing dodgeball. But then the love potion episode happened, and suddenly they found themselves in close proximity to each other. They had to make the stalking dynamic work, to make it fit with the story.
And then there'd been the character development, character development, and the lengthy crisis crossover with the big name epic crossover fic series, which led to more character development, character development. The tsundere had been overworked, appearing as two characters, complicated by both the lengthy chapters and the long writing periods in between.
And suddenly, without being quite sure how, in the midst of it all they found themselves working opposite each other as romantic leads in a brief segment in that famous harem anthology abut Yue. And in another one. And another one.
And then those lemon scenes had happened…
"How did we end up here?" Chisame asked wonderingly as they lay back in the backstory of the 2814 series.
Matoi shrugged, slipping her fingers between the other girl's hand as they waited for chapters to be written, squeezing the magical girl hacker's hand. "He's being meta."
Chisame smiled, and squeezed back. Their One True Pairing sat back and waited. They are content.
A Cat Person
Himari moaned in pleasure, arching her back at the feel of what Yuuto's fingers were doing to her. "Oh, master, that feel so gooood!"
Yuuto's sighed, but he didn't stop moving the brush through Himari's hair. "Stop saying things that can be misunderstood."
She just giggled, then moaned again as she leaned into his strokes.
Cat and cat lover closed their eyes. All was right with the world.
Decadent Habits (yes, another one)
"Hey, onee-sama," Kuroko said she opened the door and slipped into the room, most of her attention on her cellphone's screen. "Sorry I'm late. I was just WHAT THE HELL?-!-?-!-?-!"
At least a dozen identical, blank-faced, tired faces looked up at her from where they were sprawled on the floor and, Mikoto saw, both beds. Some still had on bits of school uniform and goggles.
Only onee-sama had frozen in shock and surprise, the rest going back to the… things… the wet, sexy, quivering things… they'd been doing. "Onee-sama, how could you!" Kuroko cried dramatically even as she hastily locked the door behind her. "Why didn't you wait for me?-!-?-!"
"Misaka-onee-sama still doesn't swing that way, Misaka said," one of the Misaka imouto said.
"This is just Misaka masturbation, Misaka said blandly," another Misaka imouto said blandly.
"Misaka-onee-sama is teaching us sisterly love, Misaka said decadently," a third Misaka imouto said decadently.
"Wah!" Kuroko cried. "Onee-sama, how could you…!"
"You said that already," another Misaka imouto. It was amazing how conversational they could be while doing… this and that… and ooooh, that!
"Kuroko…" Misaka croaked.
Kuroko teleported next to her, pushing aside a tangle of three Misaka imouto. "What is it onee-samaaaAAAAAAA!"
What? Kuroko didn't annoy her that much…
- To be continued...
A/N: I ship Tsunetsuki Matoi X Hasegawa Chisame. Deal with it.
The rest of Ala Iridia are also posting Valentines day snippets. Check out Overmaster and Darkenning's profiles pages for more. And remember, no mentioning Decadent Habits to anyone inconvenient, 'kay? : p
Please review, C&C welcome.
Until next time, this is Shadow, signing off.