Don't Go (Nao x Reika)

original

“I’m sorry,” she hoarsely whispered, hot tears forming at the corner of her eyes. Refusing to let them fall, she clenched her jaw tight and squeezed her eyes shut, tilted her head down and breathed in deeply, took in the comforting smell of her friend and shuddered at the familiarity with which she recognized it.

“Nao.”

She swallowed. Reika never used honorifics with her name, and for a brief, horrifying moment, she thought she would hear one added on. Pause. Silence. Nothing. Comforting nothingness, and yet disturbing as well. “Yes?”

“You should let go,” Reika softly suggested. Nao only squeezed her arms tighter around the blue-haired girl, fidgeting with the tension in the muscle as she brought herself close but never touching her friend’s back. Too intimate. Entirely too intimate that way.

“Why?” she asked instead of obeying. Reika shifted slightly in an attempt to dislodge herself from Nao’s grip, but Nao was the athletic powerhouse, and Nao was the one who won the fight for physical dominance. Her embrace was iron. Unyielding, trapping and weighing her down. Warm iron. Heat radiating off her form, flexible and lithe.

“You know why,” Reika quietly spoke. She gave up her futile attempts to leave. Escape. “This won’t end well for anyone, Nao. No one at all.”

“I don’t care.” Her voice came out childish and whiny and immature and foolish and she cursed herself for never growing up when she could have. Growing up in the ways that counted, beyond taking care of her siblings and learning household chores and dealing with monsters and villains. Growing up everywhere but where it counted. She had never outgrown her feelings. “I don’t care.”

“Don’t.” Reika sucked in a hard breath. “Nao, don’t.”

She didn’t listen. Nao leaned her head in closer and laid her forehead to rest on soft blue hair and familiarity and memories of the days where all that mattered was having fun and seeing blue eyes and wide smiles. When being with her was enough. When feelings were simple and innocent. Voice shaking, mouth trembling, she said the only thing she could. “Please,” she softly, ever so softly, whispered.

Reika said nothing. Only heard the sound of Nao’s heart breaking behind her in the walls of hot iron.

She concentrated on keeping her own tears as silent as the ones dropping onto her neck.

Delinquent Valentine (Nanoha x Fate)

original

“Back off!” Fate growled, hands clenching into fists and shaking with fury. Her red eyes burned with pure hatred, practically set fire to the room for all of its intensity. “That’s mine. She’s mine.”

“What, you mean this?” the boy scoffed, dangling the box by a flimsy red ribbon. The contents inside shifted, and her red eyes flashed with killing intent. “Sorry, is this important? Looks like cheap chocolate to me. Bet it even tastes like shit.”

That was the tipping point. Fate lunged forward and punched the boy square in the face, but not before his lackeys returned the favor and pounded her skull from the side and knocked her into a desk, stars flying in her vision, the sound of screaming filling her ears as if she were underwater; she paid none of this any mind, only focused on catching the box before it hit the ground. She caught it.

She relaxed once the prize was in her hand and waited for the kicks and finishing blows to come. They never came. Head pounding, she opened her eyes and looked up from the floor to see pink panties peeking out from underneath a blue skirt. Childish, by any standards. “Nanoha,” she groaned. “Why pink?”

The girl froze when her name was called, her fists frozen in preparation to throw punches and defend her girlfriend. Then her face flared scarlet. “Are you peeking at my panties when we’re surrounded by a bunch of goons who want to beat you to a pulp?!” Frustration and exasperation tinted her voice, and Fate thought she sounded as lovely as she always was. Chuckling, she pushed herself off the ground and ignored the way the room swam in her vision.

“It’s okay, they won’t do anything to a girl,” she beamed. Nanoha frowned.

“You’re a girl too, you know,” she pointed out, eyes briefly flickering down at Fate’s ample chest even though it was bound.

Black jacket fluttering, chain on her pants clinking, Fate scooped Nanoha up in her arms without any obvious effort, chuckling at the small “eep!” she gave, and bore her fangs at the boys who were watching the scene with hesitance, armed with the knowledge that the last gang who tried to mess with Fate’s woman was sent to the hospital and transferred to another school out of self-preservation. “I know,” she grinned and winked. “You remind me every day.”

Nanoha had the decency to blush an even darker shade of red.

Fate walked briskly to the door and smirked to herself as the boys parted silently for her, kicking the door open with force and relishing the way that Nanoha’s hands clung to her shirt.  Without turning around, she said, “Don’t ever fuck with me or Nanoha again, you hear?”, and left.

“Language,” Nanoha scolded. “And really, did you need to go through all that just for some chocolate?”

“Only if it’s yours,” Fate smiled. “Always if it’s yours.”

Hug (Mio x Ritsu)

original here

“Hey,” Ritsu spoke up. She shifted from her position on the bed, legs dangling over the edge, back flat against her covers, eyes staring at the blank ceiling. “Mio?”

“Yes, Ritsu?” Mio inquired. She was leaned against the bed on the floor and looked up from the homework in her lap. Curious, she waited.

“Do you ever think about the future?” the drummer asked.

“Quite often,” Mio responded. “After all, once we graduate, we’ll have a lot more worries than we do now and our lives will only get busier.”

“No, I mean, beyond all that unimportant stuff,” Ritsu sighed. “You know, like... ‘Will I be happy?’ and things like that.”

“So nothing to do with getting a job, paying the bills, and living on your own?” Mio teased. Ritsu didn’t take the bait. Mio was slightly afraid that she had offended the girl before Ritsu slid down from her bed and landed next to her.

“Well, sure, I mean. Yeah, you can think about those things, but do you ever wonder if there’s more than that?” Ritsu insisted. “It seems really boring if that’s all there is waiting for us.”

Mio’s dark eyebrows scrunched together in concern. “Of course there’s more than that,” she told her. “You’ll still have your drumming, your friends and tea and cake. None of that will change if you don't want it to. You might even have a husband and a few kids–”

“But that’s not what I want!” Ritsu growled, suddenly snapping her neck to gaze fiercely at the bassist. Mio flinched at the sudden motion. “That’s not what I want,” she continued, voice dropping to a soft pitch. Her amber eyes burned. “Is that what you want?”

“I-I guess,” Mio stuttered. She was confused and slightly scared at Ritsu’s behavior. What was wrong with her?

“I see.” Ritsu said this in a neutral tone and turned away. “Hey.”

“Yes, Ritsu?” Mio responded. She watched as Ritsu held her arms out and hung them there, waiting. "Ritsu?"
She leaned forward and wrapped her lanky arms tight around Mio's torso, squeezed her so hard that the bassist forgot to breathe.

"Mio." The hot breath tickled her ear. A whisper.

"Yes?" Another. Her shoulders were starting to hirt from the cut-off circulation. "Ritsu?" A more painful plead.

They sat there, tense, unmoving. Mio wondered what was going through her head. Five years ago she would have instantly known Ritsu's train of thought. Now she could only blindly guess, after the change her friend had gone through in the past few years, her ever-present silliness giving way to a more contemplative demeanor in what she thought was maturity. Now she thought it was something else entirely. Something deeper and more emotional. Troubled.

Ritsu seemed to realize what she was doing and stiffened before her arms slipped down and slid to a stop around Mio's waist, embrace turned gentle and loose. "Can we... Stay like this for a while?" she asked. And Mio heard the child she had grown up with and fought with and smiled and laughed with and cried with in that single request, and she knew that she could not deny her even if she wanted to.

"Yes," she sighed. Her gaze stared blankly at the bed. "Yes."

She sensed, rather than saw, Ritsu's eyes droop into a close, and when even breathing bathed her neck in nervous goosebumps, only then did she acknowledge the worry gnawing in her throat.

It begins...

Now that that is published, the ACP begins, or the Art Converter Project.

Basically I write oneshots based off of art that I find. If I can't find the source, then know that I tried my darndest best to do so.

I know for a fact that the NanoFate picture on the first entry into this project was deleted off the net. That artist is gone.

Apologizes, artist-san.

Afternoon (Nanoha x Fate)

“Fate?” Nanoha’s voice echoed around the entrance hall of the modest home. Hearing no response, she hesitantly bent over and pulled at the back of her shoe, wrenching the footwear off in a matter of seconds and followed the motion on her other foot. She clapped her hands together and squeezed her eyes shut. “Excuse me,” she muttered.

Normally, she wouldn’t trespass without permission despite the fact that Lindy had given her a key to the home and invited her to come and go as she pleased. A small amount of guilt crawled up her throat, but the desire to see her friend overtook the guilt and she let her feet lead her to the base of the stairs. She looked up then around.

The house was alight with the color of the setting sun, and a peaceful, fragile atmosphere settled over her mind. Inhaling deeply, she forced the guilt out of her mind completely and placed one foot on a wooden step, then another, until she was at the top of the stairs and a few paces away from the room that she knew very well.

She knew it far too well. She knew that when she opened the door, the room would be very neat, very bare, sparsely decorated save for a bed and a desk, a calendar on the wall and a bulletin board behind the bed that it hung on. So when her fingers curled on the doorknob and twisted, when the door opened soundlessly and smoothly, when her eyes followed the streams of golden orange light from the window to the bed, she was struck dumb by the unexpected sight of an ample chest rising and falling in deep slumber, blond hair splayed out across white sheets and arms folded underneath a relaxed head.

Fate hadn’t even changed out of her school uniform. Her brown jacket was thrown haphazardly on the chair nearby, Nanoha noted discontentedly. She walked quietly over and adjusted the jacket so that it hung neatly on the back of the chair. Her eyes sought out her sleeping friend almost instinctively, roamed reverently across the folds of her white uniform shirt, down to the crinkled skirt and back up to the beautiful face framed by her mussed hair.

Before she knew what she was doing, before she could control her impulses, she was next to the bed and leaning down, gazing at the slightly parted lips that exhaled ever so slightly with her steady breathing. Her eyes closed.

Hot breath tickled her lips.

And she moved.