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Maka's attention to the Christmas tree shifted as she heard a door open behind her, and she closed her eyes. She pictured her papa's smile... Heard his gentle, pleasant voice greeting her. Pictured running up to him and hugging him 'round the waist, and setting her cheek against the rich fabric of his sport coat. Pictured her mother walking into the foyer, and giving her papa a kiss on the cheek as he picked Maka up. And she would reach over and put her arms around both of her parents' necks and hug them as close as she could...
"Death Scythe! Do you have any idea what time it is!?"
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“Maka Albarn,” he said, slowly pushing the drapes open.
She startled as the room was flooded in moonlight, and Soul watched her verdant eyes as they traveled from his feet up to his face as he stepped into view. A moment later her scowl was concealed as his shadow fell over hers, and his hands settled into his pockets while hers balled into fists at her sides.
"Curious choice of calling card," he continued as she glared at him. "Are you trying to frame me specifically, or just imply that my department is corrupt?"
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"What?" Soul questioned, and then he turned to follow Maka's gaze over his shoulder. Just a few places behind them in the line stood Maka's father, Death Scythe. The man's starry-eyed gaze was fixed on his daughter, whose cheeks were turning red in anger. Her fists balled at her sides, and Soul tensed in anticipation.
"You followed me to the theater!?" Maka exclaimed before Soul could gather his thoughts.
Death Scythe startled, and after a moment of sputtering thumbed over his shoulder.
"Stein wanted to see this one!"
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"I got more wet sand," he replied, setting his bucket down next to his unorthodox construction. Then he eyed Spirit's hands clasped near to his chest. "Did you finally catch an octopus?"
Spirit grinned. "Come here!"
The younger boy crossed the sand toward him, eyeing his hands with a slightly narrowed gaze. He only came up to Spirit's chest in height, and he tilted his head upward once stopping in front of him, his brow rising in question as Spirit hesitated.
"Not an octopus... It will probably get away."
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Drakken stopped short as he almost crashed into Shego's back. He was about to ask why she had stopped, but then his eyes widened. Over her shoulder he could see that the trees and bushes were covered in the shining white tangles of spider webs. He swallowed anxiously and looked up to see that the branches and trunks above were covered in webs too. The webbing was so thick, it looked like the fake webs used for Halloween decor.
Shego turned and their eyes met in fear. Drakken dropped his hand from her shoulder as he turned around to retrace their steps. The pouring rain at the edge of the forest where they'd crashed would be better than an army of plate-sized spiders...or worse.
He stopped short as he heard Shego gasp, and he turned around as she screamed. Drakken's eyes widened and he fell backward and landed on his rear as he stared in shock.
A giant spider was hovering just above them in the trees. And it was giant—the size of a car—as its legs suspended it between two tree trunks. And Shego was standing directly beneath it, looking up. Almost faster than Drakken could blink, the spider had grabbed Shego with its front legs and pulled her up to its jaws.
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The Way Life Is Supposed To Be by bcbdrums
Fandoms: Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek
09 Sep 2024
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“They are hailing us Sir, and I’m picking up a visual.”
“Onscreen.”
The other ship’s bridge came into focus and the sight that met them froze them all in their places except for Kirk who was startled out of his chair.
Before them was a near mirror image of the Enterprise bridge…complete with duplicates of themselves. There was one difference though, and it was significant enough to almost cause an emotional reaction in Spock as he walked over to stand at his captain’s right hand.
Instead of Kirk in the command chair it was the vulcan, wearing command gold with a captain’s stripes on his sleeve. There was no sign of Captain Kirk on this other Enterprise.
No one moved or spoke for several seconds, simply drinking in the impossible view before them. It was the Enterprise by all appearances but for the difference in who commanded.
Kirk swallowed slowly and sat back down, overwhelmed. The duplicate crew was smiling and seemed awed at the sight of themselves, but not surprised. It was obvious to Kirk that they knew what was going on, while his ship was in the dark. On the viewscreen, the other Spock dipped his chin in the not-smile Kirk knew so well. Then he spoke.
“Hello, Jim.”
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Spirit slowly stood and turned to face everyone. He grinned briefly, ran a hand back through his hair as he cleared his throat, and his expression grew nervous as wide, blue eyes began slowly scanning the small crowd. And then, Stein felt a familiar warmth hovering at the edges of his wavelength.
He quickly hid behind the pillar, holding his breath.
"And for the final piece…one witch's soul!"
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The first time our lips met, you were angry. I could tell your resistance had been slipping for weeks, if not longer. And the hunger in your touch made me wonder if you hadn't been wanting to devour me from the beginning. But you were angry. You didn't want to want me. But in your touch was also desperation. And I could meet you there.
I was up for anything, by then. Confused and starved for affection and looking for a way out of the pit I'd landed myself in. And you... You looked at me like I was the sun.
I could give you my warmth.
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Spirit closed his eyes, but that only made the soft, wet sounds of entrails and body parts impacting the earth more prominent, and he held his breath until all he could hear were the ragged breaths of his meister. He was getting used to the feel and smell of blood, but to have the rest of the creature in pieces around him made his stomach turn somehow even while still in weapon form. And then a confusion joined his distress as Stein's breath hitched and then was released in a tiny giggle. And then another. And another.
Spirit had never heard Stein laugh before.
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After a long moment Spirit peered at him through his fingers. "Can't you do something here? You're always reading those medical textbooks."
Stein glared down at the ailing weapon. He knew what was needed. But he didn't have anything like that in their apartment or any way to get it.
"No. We have to go to the hospital," Stein said as his chest constricted in fear, his heart still racing.
Spirit shook his head firmly to the negative.
Stein withdrew his hand, balled it into a fist at his side along with his other.
"Idiot," he said before stalking out of the room.
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"Where's Spirit?" Stein breathed before he could think better of it, lifting his eyes to meet Sid's.
The zombie bowed his head.
"Death Scythe...didn't make it."
(Series of unrelated one-shot death fics.)
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A catch-all for some Drakgo short stories, either too short to be stand-alones, or too random for me to publish separately. Includes canon fic, AU, head-canon, and everything in between. The now-famous "Watermelon Saga" of short stories is part of this collection! This also includes my 100th and 151st Drakgo fics! Lots more in here than what's in the tags.
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Spirit wanted to be angry. He wanted to tell Stein that it was none of his business what he did with any girls. But he knew that couldn't really be what was bothering his young friend, and getting to the bottom of that was far more important. He slowly let out a breath, let his fire cool again.
"Stein. It's okay, I promise you. They're okay with it. There's nothing wrong with any of it..."
Stein tensed further, and Spirit frowned quizzically.
"Why do you care, anyway?"
Series
- Part 7 of Cold Nights, Warm Hearts
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“Stein!” Spirit cried in protest, his voice rising in pitch.
“Don’t breathe.”
Spirit blinked, the harsh but monotone directive confusing his train of thought.
“What?” he asked, but held his breath nonetheless.
“They melt too fast if you breathe.”
Series
- Part 6 of Cold Nights, Warm Hearts
- Part 2 of Wild Heart
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"Spirit Albarn? I told you to wait at your dorm."
"I— I'm sorry, S-Sir. See, I realized I'd forgotten some books in my locker, and then I was already here so I figured I could just—"
Stein slowly stepped out from behind Lord Death to find the source of the stammering voice, and it stopped abruptly as the boy laid eyes on him.
"Ah, well. I suppose there's no time like the present. Spirit, this is your new partner, Franken Stein."
Spirit Albarn, as the reaper had identified him, was at least a head taller than Stein, and thin. He was dressed in all black—a contrast to Stein's head-to-toe white—with the exception of hideous large gold buttons down the front of his jacket. But that wasn't what took Stein's breath away.
Series
- Part 1 of Wild Heart
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"Entertaining madness. It's the ultimate crime."
"What? But I... I didn't—"
"Evil desires entered your mind. And you...a death weapon. There's no coming back from that."
Stein's voice was growing nearer, but Spirit still couldn't see the teen. Cold fear swept him at the harsh edge of judgment in his former meister's voice, and he pulled at his wrists and ankles again but found the effort as futile as before.
"It wasn't my fault! I would never...I wouldn't act on those things!"
"What you intended doesn't matter. Idle thoughts and mindless errors are as criminal as deliberate intent."
"But that's not true! You don't believe that anymore than...than Lord Death does!"
Spirit ceased his useless thrashing when Stein didn't respond, and he blinked the dark silhouette above him into focus. The young eyes, so familiar to him, were now distant—sad and cold as he gazed down at the weapon with his mouth fixed into a frown.
"What matters is that you believe it," Stein said.
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"I'm sorry."
"...What?"
The words had fallen thoughtlessly from Spirit's lips, and despite how he was holding back he could feel the tension in Stein's soul rise in response.
It wasn't enough. He wasn't sure anything could ever be enough to mend their years of separation; of silence, misunderstandings and confusion, and of rejection that was ultimately unfounded and that Spirit knew he could no longer pretend was what he had wanted.
He released his hold on the meister, and Stein's hands fell away instantly as if he'd been stung.
Series
- Part 5 of Cold Nights, Warm Hearts
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"Drakken—"
"All the years of silence I left between us so she wouldn't figure it out. All those lost years I could have been close to my lonely old mother. That's what her letters will say, now. Have you ever heard that woman start on a guilt trip? She's an absolute master!"
"Drew!"
This finally caused the mad scientist's jaw to snap closed. He stopped mid-stride and whirled around to face her.
"If I kiss you, will you shut up?"
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Soul bit the inside of his cheek. Despite having faced and ultimately helping Maka win against the kishin, there was something too real and ominous in what Death Scythe had said. There was still madness and evil roaming the world, and he couldn't forget his duty just because they'd been victorious against one extremely large threat.
Soul began to mentally pack away the twisting confusion in his chest that had led him to the gallery that morning. His own problems were nothing in comparison to his responsibilities to Maka, or to Lord Death and the rest of the world. But then Death Scythe spoke again.
"She doesn't love you because you're close to becoming a death weapon, you know."
"...What?"
Series
- Part 4 of Cold Nights, Warm Hearts
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Another explosion had Drakken pressing his hands over his ears, and a heavier set of sparks than before fell in front of him and illuminated the office wall. He looked up as the roar of fire began somewhere behind him, and then he saw Shego's shadow as she kicked violently toward an opponent, sending him flying.