Happy Holidays!

[aloneindarknes7]

Here they are! All of my Holiday Drabbles for those who requested them! Enjoy and happy holidays! Posted in order of when they were written.

For Rocky_Wolf

A drabble about Kimblee and Greed

            Warm Memories

            When King Bradley finished with his chimeraes and left him alone, the last thing Greed expected to see was the door opening, to reveal him. The Crimson Alchemist; the man who loved him enough to bring him back; the man who could be blamed for countless deaths.

            It’s strange what Homunculi can remember when they really try. Greed doesn’t remember cold nights, cuddling under a blanket, because there was always a warm presence starting a fire inside him from sweet words pressed into his neck and gentle caresses. He can remember that warm smile while the man ranted about humans and their explosive personalities.

            It was when he realized that it wasn’t their personalities that Kimblee was talking about that he had tried to leave. And when he had died. And when Kimblee had sacrificed himself to the military and their perks to bring him back.

            It was only until he saw Kimblee’s familiar smile that told him the man wasn’t sacrificing anything. “Hey,” Kimblee strode into the room, the arrogance walk something that Greed didn’t remember. “You know the best perk about working for the military? Even when they ‘issue your death,’ if you’re still willing to kill for them and you promise to listen to them and not be bad again, they accept you back. They even give you more perks to show their appreciation.”

            Greed remembers how that hand on his cheek felt on his real cheek and he remembers that he used to moan for more.

 

           

For GraysonGirl

A poetic Sladin drabble

            Viol (Rape in French)

            In, out, in and out, he can’t breathe, he’s too hot. But the rhythm continues to move his body back and forth. His tears are from the pain, embarrassment, and the degrading act but it’s useless for tears will have no affect on someone like him. He’s too young for this, but he’s no longer too pure. No, that’s being taken away from him.

.           In and out, too fast, too merciless, and “Why, God, why me?” Why the victim and why the heartless, unfeeling, perpetrator? The pleasure from the pain and the excruciating pain from the intensive rhythm; rocking him and the squeaking bed; shattering into tiny glass pieces his future, his life; forever marked as a victim.

            In, out, cry useless tears, in again. A cry and a groan fills the night that was stilled and now will never be stilled again. He doesn’t know how things can get worse but with his (un)luck(y) it will and he knows it. It’s not over yet and he knows that once he’s finished, it still won’t be over. It is simply the first night of the rest of his restless and scarred, nightmare filled life that he has been tossed head first into.

            In agonizingly slow, quick thrust out, and in and out. It will remain with him and he may get away for a while, but it will always remain with him just like he always will follow him. He knows that he can not outrun his shadow forever.

 

            

For Wynja

A hunting Sladin drabble

            The Thrill of After the Hunt

            “You have a minute head start; I suggest you start flying, little bird.” Robin knows that it won’t be enough time for him to get far or to find a hiding spot. Though he knows he can’t outrun or hide from Slade. Still, it’s a challenge. And isn’t that the point of the hunt? The challenge of it; man versus beast, or, as in this case, man versus man; it’s sporting, after all.

            He takes off; knowing that it’s wasting his energy and Slade will still have the home field advantage no matter where he goes. His cape flaps as he jumps down from the ground, like wings, and folds around his back as he lands. A sprint doesn’t get him far when his mental count hits sixty. He slips into a room and hopes that his option of flight was smarter than the voice of fight that he had chose to ignore.

            It is eleven more mental seconds when the door opens. “The bedroom, Robin?” Slade strolls into the room, ever the hunter, even when he’s replaced the hunting gun for a bo-staff and switched his targets from animals to apprentices.

            “I though I’d save us some time.” Robin removes his cape, his wings, and lets it drop to the floor as he spreads himself out on the bed. “‘To the victor goes the spoils’ and you won before we even started.”

            “I was hoping for a hunt, but next time I’ll pick a prize that isn’t mutual, maybe.”

 

 

            

For Kamorie

A forceful Sladin drabble

            Suppressing Sobs

            He bit through his lip but still couldn’t help but scream as Slade invaded him from behind. The man was huge inside him and that wasn’t a surprise to Robin since he did have huge hands and he simply was huge; being over six feet tall. What was a surprise was Slade’s interest in him, not only for an apprentice, but for more.

            “Relax,” Slade hissed in his ear but it did nothing to relax Robin’s muscles as he continued to shake with his unreleased sobs. He wasn’t going to cry in front of the man, his mind determined, but that didn’t stop his body from wanting to. “Relax or you’ll end up hurting yourself.” If Robin could open his mouth without fear of a sob passing his lips, he would have snapped that it was Slade doing the hurting.

            He took a deep breath through his nose and slowly released it as he remembered the relaxing exercises that Batman had taught him and Slade had re-taught him. His shoulders loosened and his ass clenched a bit less around Slade, allowing the man the chance to move. Which he instantly took and received a hiss from Robin. Robin wasn’t ready for him to move yet. In fact, he wasn’t ready for anything that Slade was doing for him yet. But that didn’t stop Slade from doing it. Slade believed that Robin was mature for his age. Maybe he really was.

            That still didn’t stop him from crying once Slade left.

 

           

For Kitsunechibiko

A Sladin drabble involving cards

            Luck of the Cards

            It was an amazing night; the best night of his life. Suggesting a game of poker with Slade had to have been the greatest idea ever. When Slade had lost the first round and then won the second, it was brilliant for him to make a bet for the third and final round. And Slade losing overall made loosing on purpose worth it.

            “Now, Slade, why don’t you go dust my bookshelves? I haven’t bothered with them in forever.” Robin sat back, the lucky winner, and ordered his slave for the night to complete another meaningless task.

            As he leaned back, a card slipped out of his green gloves and landed in front of Slade’s feet as he had started his way toward the bookshelves with a feather duster in hand. Slade picked up the card and snapped the duster in half. “You had the jack of hearts up your sleeves the whole time?” Slade growled and Robin gulped.

            “Alright, by default of cheating, you win.” Robin offered a smile and stood out of the chair as he backed away from the angry man. “What would you like me to do…Master?” He smiled and hoped that it wouldn’t hurt.

            “That’s not enough, boy.” Slade snarled and stormed toward Robin. Robin stood still as Slade blindfolded him. “Now, slave, you’re going to be a good boy tonight and I’m going to teach your cheating little self a lesson.”

            Robin didn’t know what lesson Slade was teaching him, but he liked it. 

For my beloved Kiwi

A drabble of her original characters 

            Torture of Life

            This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. He knew that things were doomed to change, that nothing stayed the same forever. He didn’t expect for the changes to be this drastic, terrible, and sudden.

            Ade watched as his numb hands were tied above his head. His breath was already shallow and they hadn’t begun yet. But he’d heard enough about what happened in this room. And he already had plenty of first hand experiences in similar rooms.

            “Please,” He never thought he would beg but desperate times call for desperate measures and his titles and money have no worth with these people. Neither do his pleas as the men continue to ignore him and move around the shadowed room, the only light shining on his bare, smooth back.

            The only warning was when he heard a hiss in the air. He started to scream and didn’t stop until his back was as angry and red as his throat felt. By the time they paused enough for Ade to get a few deep breaths, his back no longer held any proof of his once lovely skin.

            Then it was round two. Whish, crack, snap, scream. Ade lost all track of time and his surroundings blurred until his hands were untied and hands grabbed at the ripped skin of his back and shoulders. While they led him out of the room, he lifted his head up at the perfect moment to watch Gaki’s hands being tied to the blood splattered wall.

 

For my Sexy Lexy…erm…Krimmy

A drabble of her original characters

           Owed

            He ran, knowing that they were looking for him and that if they caught him, he wouldn’t have the painless death he always hoped to have. Norway pumped his arms faster and prayed to whatever merciful god that was watching him at the moment for help, for a miracle, for anything. Really, he was owed for all of the shit he had been through.

            Then he fell into a ditch.

            Norway grumbled as he picked himself off of the slightly-softer-than-ground object he was lying on. And his eyes widened as his hand automatically slipped and he landed face down onto the dead body once more. Norway didn’t make a sound as he scrambled into a sitting position and his eyes roamed around in the large ditch filled with bodies.

            He felt his heart skip a beat as he looked down at the body he was currently straddling and forced himself not to scream only because of the sweeping flashlight right above the ditch. Norway forced himself to lie back down on Bo’s cold body and closed his eyes as he did what any reasonable person in his situation would do; play opossum. As the gruff voices moved farther away, Norway opened his eyes and met Bo’s lifeless, closed ones. He sobbed lightly and then stopped as something else caught his ears.

            A heartbeat. It was faint, but after another three minutes of complete silence and held breath, he was sure it was there. Maybe a god actually did owe him.

For No Name

 A dark and slashy Sladin drabble

            Screaming Bloody Murder

            There is blood everywhere; on the floor, on the walls, on the high ceiling of the Titan’s main room, and on Robin’s uniform, even on his mask. Though it’s not Robin’s blood; he is perfectly intact and unharmed. But that is only because Robin wasn’t Slade’s target. Well, that isn’t true. Slade just had other targets to take care of first. All of Robin’s friends are dead, had been killed in their own beloved home.

            “Let go of me, don’t touch me; you killed them with those hands!” Robin screamed and kicked and squirmed as Slade pulled Robin’s blood covered hands—hands that had tried to help instead of destroyed like Slade’s had—and held them over his head, pulling the boy against himself. In between Robin’s curses and shouts and struggles, he sobs and more tears fall from his masked eyes. The tears mixed with the blood dripping from his head and gave the image that he actually was the one bleeding. But Slade hasn’t harmed his boy. At least, he hasn’t hurt him yet.

            “Robin,” Slade turned the sobbing Boy Wonder’s head to the side and leaned against the side of his face. “I told you before that I’d make you watch.” And he had kept his word, just like he always did. “And I told you that you belonged fully to me and only me.” Slade worked Robin’s belt off and allowed it to drop to the floor with a loud clang.

            Then Robin began to bleed.