DISCLAIMER FROM 2024

At the encouragement of my readers, some of whom have followed me for twenty years, I have decided to reupload my old fanfiction stories. I do this with some reservations. I wanted to revise them before posting them again, but the sheer amount of words involved means that that would take me years to accomplish, and it would be better for me to focus on writing new stories instead. Maybe someday I'll go back and make the edits, but for now, I'm reposting everything, warts and all. So expect characters to be out of character, expect nonsensical sections, and expect there to be many grammar, punctuation, and spelling mistakes.

In addition, please understand that the story you have in front of you was written by a very different person. I was a teenager who was raised on 90's media, who lived in an abusive household and in a white conservative town. I was steeped in problematic beliefs and had an equally troubling sense of humor. Anything I wrote before 2010 will reflect that.

However, my understanding of the world has grown since then. I'm an adult now, out of the closet and firmly politically left. I'm also much better at my craft these days. It makes me cringe to think about how my earlier writing must have hurt some of my readers.

That being said, these stories were also ones that people loved and missed. If they can still make someone's day brighter, that's worth something. Maybe they can even inspire others by showing them how much someone's writing can grow with time and practice. Plus, my younger self worked hard on these. Even the darkest ones comforted her during a difficult time in her life. So maybe I owe her something better than burying her words.

So, without further ado, welcome to my old fanfics! You're in for a messy and melodramatic experience. As always, I hope you enjoy the read.


MOMENTS

Snapshots into the lives of Mewtwo and Cassandra, some of which are canon compliant, some of which no longer are. Originally posted in the "Cut" and "The Scintilla Anthology" collections.


Sunshine:

Mewtwo held the squirming bundle carefully, feeling the fingers of the infant squeeze at one of his paws. The older two young ones played in the surf and sand, while his partner was curled up on a towel, soaking up the light of the sun. It was a rare day of peace for them and for the children they were caring for. If they could have more days like this, he thought, he would never again let his expression contort into his usual scowl. For once, he did not mind the sunshine.

Colorless:

Cassandra's pale irises were just another mark of the mutations that made her into the thing she was: they were utterly without color. Perhaps worse that the constant reminder of her differences from others was that - if it weren't for careful training in observation - her vulnerable eyes would have been her greatest of weaknesses. So in all honesty, she despised them: she hated their silver "color." But then he had come into her life and said that they reminded him of moonlight…and abruptly, she realized that maybe that part of her was not so bad after all.

Absence:

Mewtwo was eerily quiet, almost apathetic, as he waited for news of her return. Kept prisoner in the bowels of the Team Rocket base, there was barely anything else for him to care for at this point, for he had gained all the power and control he had ever desired. Yet her absence made everything colder somehow…and despite his attitude, he cared nothing for such a chill. Later, when he wandered upon the island of his birth, spying the red-headed nurse he'd abducted and brainwashed, he mused on this point…and then dismissed it, deciding to leave the woman alone. Only Cassandra could warm him…anyone else was as worthless as garbage.

Little:

She could barely understand how such little things could matter so much to her: the soft little hands touching her face; the chubby little limbs flailing gently against the white, medical shift she wore; or the sweet little chirps of laughter that the little creatures made. They were so tiny, so fragile, and yet somehow they meant everything to her: they were her sun, moon, and stars amongst the darkness she'd been lost in for so long….

Float:

Before she taught him how to swim, the assassin made sure her "partner" knew how to float. It was a strange thing for him to learn, because it meant he had to let go of his control, and trust her, a human, fully. He needed to have absolute faith in the idea that she wouldn't allow him to drown. As he rested the top of his head against her flat, wet stomach, he felt the waves rock him…this was not nearly as bad as he'd imagined. With a gloating smirk, she looked down at him, meeting his eyes, and murmured, "Didn't I tell you it would be fun?"

Death:

She knew it was too late – no matter how fast she ran, she wouldn't reach him in time to drag him to safety. The scouting helicopter flew overhead in the perfect, azure sky, towards the cabin she had only recently left…and then the pilots opened fire. The force of the main explosion threw the traitor back into the trunk of one of the leafless trees. When she regained consciousness and saw the hellfire, she felt something inside of her twist and break…and she knew, in that moment, that he was gone.

Feathers:

The parents looked down on their daughter's back, spying the two unnatural limbs that jutted out from above her shoulder blades. The tiny twin wings, downy and with the hints of crisp, budding feathers, flailed out like the rest of her small limbs. The doctors had told them that it would be for the best if the anomalies were amputated, but they had refused to allow that sort of "maiming." She was their angel…and only her father knew why the truth behind that statement was so wickedly clear.

Broken:

It did not matter how many years passed: always she carried that sad smile on her face when she watched them. Even as young as they were, they comprehended was it meant - that her heart was broken. The pain that she had once felt so keenly, like a gaping wound, had faded…yet still, she was not whole, and nothing they could do could change that, try as they might to heal her….

Cookies:

His ward did not know how to bake at all: but the cop she was staying with, off duty now, assured her that she needed to learn how for the sake of their sanity. What ensued was a flower fight which made them both, and the ones unavoidably caught in the fray, paler than ghosts by the end of the battle. Supposedly, he was supposed to be serious about his job…but really, what the hell was the use of that? If they docked points from him, so what: it was one of those moments that would be with him until he died.

Drug:

Cassandra had never intended to become addicted to the dangerous medication – but then, whoever intends to grow dependent on any substance? However, the pills made her nightmares go away, and made her pain evaporate. They made her numb, and made her days pass by without meaning to them. To be quite honest, she preferred it that way: living a life would hurt her far too much…and when she died, she wanted to be able to perish without caring about it.

Father:

He watched her suffer for too long, and then finally find love. With that love she gained a purpose beyond what had been planned for her…yet when she suffered once again, he did not know what to do. He wanted to hold her, to comfort her, to say things would be okay – but he couldn't do any of those things. All he could do was watch her struggle with the life she had been thrown into. As her father, he had never wanted this for her: but fate had a cruel way of turning our wants to dust.

Scars:

She had not had so many of them the last time they'd been close like this. Mewtwo traced them, kissed at them, felt her shiver when he touched the fine, pale lines. He was determined that there would be no more new ones in the future…never knowing he was the one who would create the most painful kinds, in both her body and in her soul.

Cycle:

The repetition of the story would bother Shadow as he looked back on it in retrospect: the way pain beget more pain, the way loss followed loss, and how the stories of one pair of lovers had recycled to those in the next generation. He wondered, as he watched them, when they would be able to break through and write a next chapter, a better one.

Red:

Cassandra hated the color. She hated how it reminded her of the blood she'd shed, both from the murders she'd committed and the pain she'd been dealt. As of such, she would never wear a red dress or any other type of clothing with the hue, or ever bear a ruby or garnet upon herself. Oh, how she hated the color red…which she mused was rather ironic, since it was part of her "team's" uniform.

Tears:

He had been a child when he had last shed them, and the pain he had endured since then had hardened him to weeping ever since. Yet as the boy blinked his purple eyes up at him, cocking his head at what the clone had said - and told him that he'd already known, and was happy for it - Mewtwo could not hold them back any longer. On that cliff he merely embraced the child close and began to cry.

Blackness:

She was prepared to die: her body had lost so much blood as she'd hemorrhaged in the sacred act. Furthermore, she was incredibly tired…her soul longed to join the people she had lost over the course of her life. It was only the thought of what she would be leaving behind that kept her from surrendering to the blackness.

Flutter:

It came in the middle of the night, like a butterfly trapped deep inside her core…the sensation made her smile, and ache for her beloved. She cursed Giovanni's name to hell right then, because Caleb's absence was all that man's fault! Serena would never forgive the crime lord if her husband didn't come back to her soon! Fortunately, a few weeks later he did: and the grin that formed on his face, so rare and beautiful, made all the waiting she'd had to endure worth it.

Tender:

Everything about her was tender: her skin against him, how she cried out, how she felt for him in her guarded heart. Embracing her fully, burying his muzzle into her neck with a sigh, he rocked into her, taking joy in their intimacy by the hearth-fire. She writhed in his hold, cried out his name…it made her happy to be this close with him. Did she know that he was happy too?

God:

The traitor didn't pray often. She was an agnostic, and so she was more inclined to believe in humanity than in something divine. Yet even if she was forsaken, she needed Him to hear her now, and for Him answer her inquiry: would they be punished by Him for what they were? They were being called abominations, atrocities, even before they were born…and damn it all, she was scared for them!

Lust:

Everything he had been taught told him that to crave a human was wrong. However, her scent in those hours was beyond his ability to resist. Before he did anything he was certain to regret, he left her home, knowing well that his departure bewildered her. Yet she had made him burn…! As he stepped into the icy water of the shower, he yelped as the freezing liquid hit him…thankfully, the shock of it set his mind straight, and put him back in place. Cursing, he mused on how deeply he despised her confined little apartment when she hit estrus…for she was a friend, and to try to sooth the ache would destroy them both, correct…?

Hide-and-Seek:

"Damn it - damn it, don't you EVER do that to me again! What did I - I told you not to…!" Yet then her anger broke down as she hugged him firmly to her, and he realized that she was sobbing with fear. He knew right then that he would never play hide-and-seek again without telling her so first.

Blue:

She had not had her period in over a month; and even though her cycle was irregular, this worried her. She didn't tell him about it: instead she went alone to the local drugstore and got herself the test. It was pointless really…they could not have children together! And yet…some part of her wanted it to show her a cheerful, blue result. But, as she had known beforehand would be the case, it came out negative. Pink was such an ugly color, she decided immediately. Of course, when she curled up to her beloved and began to cry, he asked her why she was upset. She didn't answer…she didn't have the heart to tell him that for a while…just a little while…she had thought they might have something more: a future that was solely theirs to share.

Winter:

The clone couldn't make a snow angel as she could, or create a snowball with his awkwardly shaped hands to throw her way. Upon discovering this, she took him sledding, which in itself had to be the most exciting and dangerous thing he had ever been made to take part in. Yet what truly convinced him to like winter was the way she'd looked up at him after they'd tumbled off the wooden sled: for a human weapon, her eyes were so incredibly warm and alight with joy….

Brother:

Cassandra was an only child of two estranged parents, and so never knew much about family or the bonds between siblings. Of course, she had learned this in her own way, but with him…well, she could understand why her mate had been worried. Michael and she had been closer than she would have thought possible – after all, she was something of a sexist when it came to males of her own kind. Yet their relationship had been platonic…and placing the white rose on his casket, she sighed, thanking him for acting as her brother.

Moonlight:

In the times when they were alone, they gazed up at the moon for solace and understanding. As he searched for her, with Mew at his side (who said that his quest was futile), he looked up to the ghostly orb and knew that wasn't so. He could still feel her, as if a cord was drawn between them, wrapping about the cores of their souls to bind them together. On the other side of it, when she sang a lullaby, and spoke with her guardian, she looked up and comprehended herself for once in her life. It was enough for them both.