Riona (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rionaleonhart) wrote2026-05-24 01:03 pm
rionaleonhart) wrote2026-05-24 01:03 pm
Heck Yeah, I Love Violence.
A roundup of recent ficlets I've written in response to requests on Tumblr! And only two of them are for The Goes Wrong Show! See, I'm still capable of writing about other things.
Anonymous: Hello! I just saw a gif from tgws nativity episode where Chris looks like he’s about to kill the cactus that ran into him and I have not really seen anybody write about Chris being particularly physically violent before so thought I would request a ficlet. Feel free to ignore if this is a bit of a weird one! Top work on all your GroveBean endeavours by the way!!
“I made a terrible mistake today,” Chris says, quietly.
“I did notice one or two errors in the performance,” Robert says. “Or three or four, et cetera. Did you have a specific mistake in mind? Your choice of accent, I suppose?”
“No, I – what? My accent was fine.”
Robert raises his eyebrows. “All right, then.”
“I attacked the audience,” Chris says. “I threw myself at that woman in the front row. She just wouldn’t stop laughing, and...” He gestures, helplessly. “I couldn’t think clearly. I was just so furious.”
“Ah, yes,” Robert says. “That is best discouraged. How much harm did she come to, in the end?”
“Not much, fortunately. Trevor dragged me away before I could draw blood.” Chris shakes his head. “This can’t happen again.”
“You’re not planning to turn yourself in, are you? Our acting quality is already dire; we don’t need one of our better performers behind bars.” Robert looks speculative for a moment. “Although I suppose it would free up the opportunity for more competent directing.”
Chris takes a deep breath.
“You wanted me to fight you,” he says. “In The Lodge.”
“I did,” Robert agrees. “Your effort was disappointing.”
“I think I need to... get this energy out, sometimes.” Chris shifts on his feet, uncomfortable. “Before our performances, in particular. If you’d be willing to fight me... I mean, I don’t want to hurt you, but—”
“Chris,” Robert says, “it’s charming that you think you could hurt me.”
The characters in their plays do start sporting unplanned bruises, black eyes, split lips. And each performance is already exhausting enough; it’s probably unwise to use up energy fighting beforehand.
But, in the moment, panting and exhilarated, sinking his teeth into Robert’s shoulder or being slammed into the floor, it’s hard for Chris to care about any of that.
Anonymous: Dennis wakes up from a concussion and it takes everyone ages to convince him that Chris’s full name isn’t Christmas
Sandra’s on Dennis watch when he finally begins to stir, and she sets her phone aside the moment she realises he’s regaining consciousness. Well, she sets her phone aside with reasonable speed, at least. “Dennis! How are you feeling?”
“Hello, Sandra,” Dennis mumbles. “What happened?”
“A light fell during the play,” Sandra says. “Well, a couple fell, actually. But only one fell on your head.”
“The play?” Dennis tries to raise his head from the green room sofa, swiftly abandons the effort. “Oh, right. A Chris Carol.”
“It’s Christmas,” Sandra corrects him.
“Oh!” Dennis sits up at that. “Happy Christmas!”
“No, I mean... it’s not Chris,” Sandra says. “It’s Christmas.”
Dennis frowns. “Really?”
“I promise.”
The door of the green room creaks open, and Chris pokes his head inside. “Oh, Dennis, you’re awake! How are you feeling?”
“Hi, Christmas,” Dennis says.
Whoops.
Chris sends Sandra a puzzled glance. Sandra calls upon all her skills as an actress to give him a perfectly innocent shrug in return.
Chris remains ‘Christmas’ to Dennis, despite everyone’s best efforts, for the next month and a half. During last-minute preparations for their February romance, though, Dennis approaches Chris, looking thoughtful.
“You started being Christmas after our Christmas play,” Dennis says. “So... should I start calling you Valentine’s Day?”
“Here’s an idea,” Chris says: “maybe you could just call me Chris.”
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momentomori24: If it's not too cheeky, can I request a ficlet of Julia asking to do Ashley's makeup in highschool and her reluctantly going along with it cuz she doesn't have anyone else to hang out with (pre-Julia dating Andrew of course. Ashley would definitely stab her for even asking after the fact lol)? I just really like their little "friendship" from before it all fell apart :3
“Are you wearing eyeliner?” Julia asks.
“Kind of,” Ashley mutters. “I kept poking myself in the eye.”
That explains the... unfinished look. Julia hadn’t been sure whether that was intentional. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wearing makeup before.”
“I thought I’d start,” Ashley says. “And then I thought I’d stop, because it turns out makeup is stupid.”
“Do you want me to help you put it on?”
Ashley glowers. “What, you think I’m too stupid to put it on myself?”
“No! Just... if you’re poking yourself in the eye, I thought maybe I could show you how, um, how not to do that.”
Ashley seems to hesitate for a moment. Shrugs. “Fine, I guess.”
-
“So... is there a reason you started trying out makeup?” Julia asks, carefully lining Ashley’s eyes. “Is there... you know, are you trying to catch someone’s eye?”
“Ugh. No. Who would I be interested in?” Ashley focuses on Julia with a sudden, intent sharpness. “Are you?”
From someone else, the question might sound casual, friendly. From Ashley, it feels dangerous. Julia almost drops the eyeliner pencil. “What? N-no, I just – I just... I just like wearing makeup.”
“Okay,” Ashley says. She still sounds a little resentful, a little suspicious.
Can’t we just be friends? Julia wants to ask. Does every time we talk to each other really have to feel like a minefield?
“Okay,” she says, instead. “All done.” She pulls out her pocket mirror. “You want to take a look?”
Ashley doesn’t say thanks. But she grins a little when she sees her reflection, and Julia supposes that might as well be close enough.
rulanarinrush: FFVIII, Rinoa & Seifer. If you want a prompt, any kind of relationship analysis would be fun (post canon).
“Oh, wow, you’re here in Balamb? Weird coincidence.”
The voice is friendly, it’s a little amused, it goes through Seifer like a steel spike. He turns sharply.
Rinoa smiles at him. Standing just feet away; there’s no way to leave the dock without passing her, unless he wants to hurl himself into the water.
“A coincidence?” he asks. “Really?”
Rinoa shrugs, innocently. “I might’ve heard you’re down here sometimes.”
It’s said lightly, like they’re just two friends catching up. Seifer is pretty sure he can hear the strain behind it.
The last time he saw her, he was shoving her to her knees in front of Adel.
“Are you here for an apology?” he asks.
Rinoa tilts her head to one side. “Am I gonna get one if I ask for one?”
Seifer shrugs. “You’re a sorceress. You can probably get people to say whatever you want.”
He doesn’t like the way saying it makes him feel, somewhere halfway between nausea and hunger. He guesses some shreds of his stupid dream might still be lingering, even after all the paths it’s led him down.
“I’m not gonna drag an apology out of you.” Rinoa stretches, both arms over her head. “There’s no point if you don’t want to say it.”
She still speaks and moves the same way she always has. She’s more powerful than anyone in this town; she could kill all of them if she decided to. Does she ever think about that?
“Then why are you here?” Seifer asks.
“I don’t know,” Rinoa says. “I was thinking about you. I guess I didn’t want the last time I saw you to be, y’know, when you were feeding me to an evil sorceress.”
“I nearly killed you,” Seifer says. “I don’t think we’re going to be friends.”
And he’s not going to get too close to any more sorceresses. He can’t be trusted.
“I just thought we could talk,” Rinoa says.
Seifer shakes his head. “I don’t think there’s any point.”
Rinoa raises her eyebrows. “Okay. Wow. You suck, by the way.”
“Bye,” Seifer says. “Tell Squall not to bother looking for me, either. Not that you need to.”
He’s expecting her to stay; she’s always been pushy. When she actually turns away, it leaves a strange hollowness in his stomach.
“Sorry,” he calls after her, before he can let himself think about it. “I really fucked up.”
He can’t read her expression when she glances back at him. But she gives him a quick wave before she leaves.
Anonymous: Could I ask for some L/Light (or L&Light) bodyswap?
L’s body is a wreck. His neck hurts, his back hurts, his head hurts, his gut is begging for vegetables. It feels like he hasn’t slept in a week.
Why has Light spent so much time worrying about how to kill him? L is clearly taking care of that himself; he could keel over at any moment.
“How do we reverse this?” Light asks. He hates hearing his own words in L’s voice.
“You want to switch back already?” L asks. And Light hates that too: hearing his own voice from outside, with L’s flat intonation. “Kira might see this as an opportunity to learn more about L.”
“I suppose I’m not Kira, then,” Light says.
It’s crossed his mind, of course, that being in L’s body might afford him more opportunities to learn L’s name. But all he wants in this moment is to claw himself out of L’s skin, get back to where he belongs. He can’t stand it, the aches and pains, the unfamiliarity of how this body moves, this constant sense that something is missing.
“I suppose not,” L says. “Which is a shame, because I feel Kira may be the best person to answer my questions about this enormous feathery gentleman.”
Light stares at his own face in sudden horror.
Something missing. Ryuk.
“I’ll have to draw my own conclusions, I suppose,” L says, with a small, infuriating smile.
If you have any ficlet requests of your own, let me know; they'd be very welcome! It's too hot to leave the house at the moment, so I'm looking for creative ways to pass the time indoors.
Alternatively, let me know if there's any particular topic you'd like to see me cover on one of my websites! The websites in question are for Final Fantasy VIII, Silent Hill 2, Death Note, Danganronpa and The Goes Wrong Show.
I... suppose there's nothing preventing you from saying, 'I'd like to see your websites cover your opinion on Max and Chloe's relationship in Life Is Strange,' but there's no obvious place on my websites to put that, so in that case I might just respond to your comment with my Max and Chloe thoughts.
Anonymous: Hello! I just saw a gif from tgws nativity episode where Chris looks like he’s about to kill the cactus that ran into him and I have not really seen anybody write about Chris being particularly physically violent before so thought I would request a ficlet. Feel free to ignore if this is a bit of a weird one! Top work on all your GroveBean endeavours by the way!!
“I made a terrible mistake today,” Chris says, quietly.
“I did notice one or two errors in the performance,” Robert says. “Or three or four, et cetera. Did you have a specific mistake in mind? Your choice of accent, I suppose?”
“No, I – what? My accent was fine.”
Robert raises his eyebrows. “All right, then.”
“I attacked the audience,” Chris says. “I threw myself at that woman in the front row. She just wouldn’t stop laughing, and...” He gestures, helplessly. “I couldn’t think clearly. I was just so furious.”
“Ah, yes,” Robert says. “That is best discouraged. How much harm did she come to, in the end?”
“Not much, fortunately. Trevor dragged me away before I could draw blood.” Chris shakes his head. “This can’t happen again.”
“You’re not planning to turn yourself in, are you? Our acting quality is already dire; we don’t need one of our better performers behind bars.” Robert looks speculative for a moment. “Although I suppose it would free up the opportunity for more competent directing.”
Chris takes a deep breath.
“You wanted me to fight you,” he says. “In The Lodge.”
“I did,” Robert agrees. “Your effort was disappointing.”
“I think I need to... get this energy out, sometimes.” Chris shifts on his feet, uncomfortable. “Before our performances, in particular. If you’d be willing to fight me... I mean, I don’t want to hurt you, but—”
“Chris,” Robert says, “it’s charming that you think you could hurt me.”
The characters in their plays do start sporting unplanned bruises, black eyes, split lips. And each performance is already exhausting enough; it’s probably unwise to use up energy fighting beforehand.
But, in the moment, panting and exhilarated, sinking his teeth into Robert’s shoulder or being slammed into the floor, it’s hard for Chris to care about any of that.
Anonymous: Dennis wakes up from a concussion and it takes everyone ages to convince him that Chris’s full name isn’t Christmas
Sandra’s on Dennis watch when he finally begins to stir, and she sets her phone aside the moment she realises he’s regaining consciousness. Well, she sets her phone aside with reasonable speed, at least. “Dennis! How are you feeling?”
“Hello, Sandra,” Dennis mumbles. “What happened?”
“A light fell during the play,” Sandra says. “Well, a couple fell, actually. But only one fell on your head.”
“The play?” Dennis tries to raise his head from the green room sofa, swiftly abandons the effort. “Oh, right. A Chris Carol.”
“It’s Christmas,” Sandra corrects him.
“Oh!” Dennis sits up at that. “Happy Christmas!”
“No, I mean... it’s not Chris,” Sandra says. “It’s Christmas.”
Dennis frowns. “Really?”
“I promise.”
The door of the green room creaks open, and Chris pokes his head inside. “Oh, Dennis, you’re awake! How are you feeling?”
“Hi, Christmas,” Dennis says.
Whoops.
Chris sends Sandra a puzzled glance. Sandra calls upon all her skills as an actress to give him a perfectly innocent shrug in return.
Chris remains ‘Christmas’ to Dennis, despite everyone’s best efforts, for the next month and a half. During last-minute preparations for their February romance, though, Dennis approaches Chris, looking thoughtful.
“You started being Christmas after our Christmas play,” Dennis says. “So... should I start calling you Valentine’s Day?”
“Here’s an idea,” Chris says: “maybe you could just call me Chris.”
“Are you wearing eyeliner?” Julia asks.
“Kind of,” Ashley mutters. “I kept poking myself in the eye.”
That explains the... unfinished look. Julia hadn’t been sure whether that was intentional. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wearing makeup before.”
“I thought I’d start,” Ashley says. “And then I thought I’d stop, because it turns out makeup is stupid.”
“Do you want me to help you put it on?”
Ashley glowers. “What, you think I’m too stupid to put it on myself?”
“No! Just... if you’re poking yourself in the eye, I thought maybe I could show you how, um, how not to do that.”
Ashley seems to hesitate for a moment. Shrugs. “Fine, I guess.”
“So... is there a reason you started trying out makeup?” Julia asks, carefully lining Ashley’s eyes. “Is there... you know, are you trying to catch someone’s eye?”
“Ugh. No. Who would I be interested in?” Ashley focuses on Julia with a sudden, intent sharpness. “Are you?”
From someone else, the question might sound casual, friendly. From Ashley, it feels dangerous. Julia almost drops the eyeliner pencil. “What? N-no, I just – I just... I just like wearing makeup.”
“Okay,” Ashley says. She still sounds a little resentful, a little suspicious.
Can’t we just be friends? Julia wants to ask. Does every time we talk to each other really have to feel like a minefield?
“Okay,” she says, instead. “All done.” She pulls out her pocket mirror. “You want to take a look?”
Ashley doesn’t say thanks. But she grins a little when she sees her reflection, and Julia supposes that might as well be close enough.
“Oh, wow, you’re here in Balamb? Weird coincidence.”
The voice is friendly, it’s a little amused, it goes through Seifer like a steel spike. He turns sharply.
Rinoa smiles at him. Standing just feet away; there’s no way to leave the dock without passing her, unless he wants to hurl himself into the water.
“A coincidence?” he asks. “Really?”
Rinoa shrugs, innocently. “I might’ve heard you’re down here sometimes.”
It’s said lightly, like they’re just two friends catching up. Seifer is pretty sure he can hear the strain behind it.
The last time he saw her, he was shoving her to her knees in front of Adel.
“Are you here for an apology?” he asks.
Rinoa tilts her head to one side. “Am I gonna get one if I ask for one?”
Seifer shrugs. “You’re a sorceress. You can probably get people to say whatever you want.”
He doesn’t like the way saying it makes him feel, somewhere halfway between nausea and hunger. He guesses some shreds of his stupid dream might still be lingering, even after all the paths it’s led him down.
“I’m not gonna drag an apology out of you.” Rinoa stretches, both arms over her head. “There’s no point if you don’t want to say it.”
She still speaks and moves the same way she always has. She’s more powerful than anyone in this town; she could kill all of them if she decided to. Does she ever think about that?
“Then why are you here?” Seifer asks.
“I don’t know,” Rinoa says. “I was thinking about you. I guess I didn’t want the last time I saw you to be, y’know, when you were feeding me to an evil sorceress.”
“I nearly killed you,” Seifer says. “I don’t think we’re going to be friends.”
And he’s not going to get too close to any more sorceresses. He can’t be trusted.
“I just thought we could talk,” Rinoa says.
Seifer shakes his head. “I don’t think there’s any point.”
Rinoa raises her eyebrows. “Okay. Wow. You suck, by the way.”
“Bye,” Seifer says. “Tell Squall not to bother looking for me, either. Not that you need to.”
He’s expecting her to stay; she’s always been pushy. When she actually turns away, it leaves a strange hollowness in his stomach.
“Sorry,” he calls after her, before he can let himself think about it. “I really fucked up.”
He can’t read her expression when she glances back at him. But she gives him a quick wave before she leaves.
Anonymous: Could I ask for some L/Light (or L&Light) bodyswap?
L’s body is a wreck. His neck hurts, his back hurts, his head hurts, his gut is begging for vegetables. It feels like he hasn’t slept in a week.
Why has Light spent so much time worrying about how to kill him? L is clearly taking care of that himself; he could keel over at any moment.
“How do we reverse this?” Light asks. He hates hearing his own words in L’s voice.
“You want to switch back already?” L asks. And Light hates that too: hearing his own voice from outside, with L’s flat intonation. “Kira might see this as an opportunity to learn more about L.”
“I suppose I’m not Kira, then,” Light says.
It’s crossed his mind, of course, that being in L’s body might afford him more opportunities to learn L’s name. But all he wants in this moment is to claw himself out of L’s skin, get back to where he belongs. He can’t stand it, the aches and pains, the unfamiliarity of how this body moves, this constant sense that something is missing.
“I suppose not,” L says. “Which is a shame, because I feel Kira may be the best person to answer my questions about this enormous feathery gentleman.”
Light stares at his own face in sudden horror.
Something missing. Ryuk.
“I’ll have to draw my own conclusions, I suppose,” L says, with a small, infuriating smile.
If you have any ficlet requests of your own, let me know; they'd be very welcome! It's too hot to leave the house at the moment, so I'm looking for creative ways to pass the time indoors.
Alternatively, let me know if there's any particular topic you'd like to see me cover on one of my websites! The websites in question are for Final Fantasy VIII, Silent Hill 2, Death Note, Danganronpa and The Goes Wrong Show.
I... suppose there's nothing preventing you from saying, 'I'd like to see your websites cover your opinion on Max and Chloe's relationship in Life Is Strange,' but there's no obvious place on my websites to put that, so in that case I might just respond to your comment with my Max and Chloe thoughts.
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Aw!
I love this!
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