Author's Notes: I just learned of an umbrella term called "speculative fiction," which includes genres such as science fiction, fantasy, utopian and dystopian fiction, which I love, but am not creative enough to write. Thus begins this writing experiment.
Warnings: Badly formulated fantastical fanfiction of the yaoi, shounen-ai, slash, whatever-you-call-it nature. Cursing. Un-beta'd.
Pairing(s): IkeMarth.
Disclaimer: I don't own Super Smash Brothers.
Summary: A collection of one-shots in the genre of speculative fiction. Alternative universes in every sense of the term. –Yaoi, Slash: Ike/Marth-
Chapter Inspiration: [Angels and demons AU]. He knew what he was doing when he walked in the dark. And if he ran into a demon... well, the worst had already happened, so he just did as he pleased.
Speculative Impromptu
01. Transfer
By SSBBSwords
He was cold. And getting colder.
"You're kidding, right?"
He whirled around, every fiber in him bristled for defense.
"Seriously." The voice softened to something less threatening the closer the other got to him.
It wasn't so much that his eyes were adjusting to the pitch-blackness as it was that the guy was now directly in front of him, staring him down.
"Dumbass!" The demon finally dropped all pretenses that diluted typically curse-filled speech.
With but well-placed splayed fingertips against his torso and a nanosecond of (not entirely unwelcomed) magnetism, he was none-too-gently thrust into the light.
"I—"
The other met his monosyllabic sound with a hiss of contempt. Actually, it was more a warning, but anyone or anything tracking their movements could easily be mistaken.
He stood in the lit area and glanced up and down the street casually. The street lamps glowed strong enough to illuminate the entire area, minus the alley that he previously was rather ungraciously shoved out of. He took a step back toward where all pedestrians would avoid at this time of night and received another angry growl.
He cast no shadows, despite the numerous sources of artificial lighting around him. Perhaps that was due to his own production of light.
Oppositely, that guy absorbed it and therefore lived solely in areas without photons.
Sometimes he wondered what had knocked him in the head that got him in this situation.
The other huffed in annoyance and, venturing into the gray, gestured to the ground, unceremoniously dropping into a sit at the corner of the brick wall. 75% black, 25% other.
"I thought angels are supposed to be perfect rule-followers," the guy grumbled, arranging long legs before him and rocking in place to get comfortable. Arms draped over propped-up knees in a nonchalant, but equally defeated, pose.
He more gracefully descended into a seated position, just around the same corner, 75% white, 25% other, knowing that they, though opposite forces, could create a right angle. "That's funny. What else have you heard?"
"Never mind."
He didn't need to turn the corner to know the other was scowling.
The demon didn't need to turn to know he was smiling.
"Honestly, what—"
"Demons are notorious liars, aren't they?" He didn't miss a beat, and his smile turned into a smirk unbefitting his status.
"Fuck!" came the other's exasperated response, before continuing in a tone suggesting a smidgen less antagonism, "Idiotic move. Standing there like a dying beacon."
His first instinct was to shrug. He knew his stroll in the dark would not be missed by the demons that wandered it. Instead, he just lifted his gaze toward the stars. They were just sources of energy burning out amidst a vacuum, no? Emitted energy affecting something; something being affected by absorbing said energy. How existential.
"You're thinking of stars, aren't you?"
He chuckled toward the sky. "So you do listen to my rambling."
"Someone has to," the other muttered, though not unkindly.
They stayed silent, catching strains of rhythmic chirping that made for unobtrusive background noise.
"Don't disappear."
Surprised, he glanced to the side to see the other's clenched fist in his peripheral vision. For once, he had no witty comeback. Any type of reassurance would be a pretty lie, and they both knew it.
"No wonder the elders pass on such ridiculous myths," he said after another long moment. He supposed there was another hour before the sun would rise and bathe this side of the world in light, erasing the other's much needed cover.
There was a sigh, and then a rather pained question: "One last time?"
He closed his eyes, relieved that this time he did not have to ask. What a rare opportunity. "Aren't you hedonistic today," he murmured rhetorically, wondering if the guy would be offended and retract the request. Whatever. He would do it. They both knew he would.
"I feel particularly inclined to celebrate my heritage on some days and not others," the other replied dryly, setting one hand palm-up on the ground beside his hip.
He stayed still, enjoying the anticipation as much as he was locked in a state of perpetual frustration. Unless he had a nonexistence wish. He didn't, but seeing as wish fulfillment in his case would mean the end of his existence…
Well, there you had it.
With measured breath, he lifted his closest hand and brought it above the other's, hovering there at midpoint.
"I wish—"
"—I know." He cut the other off, because it took everything in him to not throw himself against something that would consume him, while also breaking the other apart.
"I suppose it's just damn ironic that it feels great."
"One day," he declared firmly, but just as quietly, "I may just want it to end like this."
He lowered his hand, and together, their palms connected.
The rush always started at the center of his chest. His head pounded, and his breathing turned into gasps as if he was attempting to climb a mountain with no atmosphere. The sensation should have been warming, additive in the most beneficial way… had it been with anything that also released energy, as opposed to—
-they really shouldn't have interlaced their fingers. But at this point, they had gone through enough 'shouldn't's that there was no point in pretending to be safe.
His hand felt like ice, and the chill only spread up his arm and ached like he was about to lose it.
It was expansive. Addictive. He shivered into it, losing his mind to it, knowing that it would be gone soon.
In the din of his euphoria, he heard the other clearly moan, and he felt the grip tighten reflexively before loosening. He, like the other, was logically restraining the urge to yank their two bodies together. He dimmed, as the other brightened.
They separated with no less the force required to reverse gravitational pull.
As expected.
Immediately, the other rolled away from the corner and into a stand.
"SHIT," the demon spat in a disgusted, but too obviously desperate, tone, almost lunging at him again to re-establish contact. "That…" The guy back-peddled several paces back into the darkness of the alley until completely obscured.
"I know," he answered, breathless from exertion and wanting nothing but to dive headfirst after the other.
"I'm going," was the unnecessary comment.
He turned away to depart as well. "Don't miss me."
"You know I won't."
-fin-
Author's Notes: Impressions, questions, ideas all welcome!
Chapter Hints: Law of conservation of energy. Effects of energy release and absorption. Electromagnetic forces.