Remix fic!
Reveals are up! Go check out remixthedrabble if you haven't already; here are the fic I wrote.
[Merlin] Trust Falls (the Down To My Ankles Remix)
Original Fic: Of Swords and Ankles by miakun
Meta: Merlin; 370 words; G; no warnings.
Arthur doesn't know magic. He's not like Merlin, born with it as strong as the idiocy he used to display so often. And he's not his father either, seeing it everywhere he looks. Arthur knows dangerous and useful and (he hopes) wrong and right, and so far magic has been every one of those things, so he knows that he can't be close to understanding it. And that's why he doesn't trust magic.
This sword, the one Merlin's holding up to him, this is magic. It's almost humming, pulling at his hand, and Arthur accepts it almost without thinking. Touching it sends a jolt like touching metal before a storm though his arm, and his fingers sting with it. He sucks in a breath. It's fire, lightning, coiled in the metal in his hand. It's almost alive. This sword could topple kingdoms or destroy magicians for good or kill a dragon in a single blow. As much as he knows he will wield this sword, he knows he can't trust it, either.
Merlin knows magic. Merlin knows this sword, too, by the way he handled it and the way he watches it now, frowning, wary. Merlin knows these things like Arthur knows duty and command, having grown into them the same way. There are still flashes of gold in his blue eyes, as there have been since the day he shed his disguise, and there's maturity there, too. The manservant Arthur pushed around and expected messes from when it didn't matter and relied on when it did is gone. Merlin's powerful, now, not quite a subject, but loyal in a way that sometimes shakes Arthur to the core and sometimes has him fearing for the day when that loyalty will end. Not that Merlin will harm him -- but that Merlin will leave.
Arthur holds up the sword, feeling the energy buzzing along its length, following Merlin's eyes as they look slowly up. Then Merlin looks back down and their eyes meet, and Arthur's breath catches. The same energy in the sword is in the air between them. Right now, if Merlin wanted to, he could probably do anything.
But Arthur trusts Merlin, so he doesn't step back. He smiles.
[Harry Potter] Letters Sometimes Lie (the Famous Last Stand Remix)
Original fic: The Cabinet War Rooms by velvetmouse
Meta: Harry Potter; 250 words; PG; no warnings.
Albus doesn't enjoy lying, but it is a heavily edited version of the truth that he sends to Churchill following the fall of Grindelwald. Horror at the act of murder, the dashed hope for a chance to redeem: these things he can relate. He spins a brief explanation, signs his name with one last sweep of the quill, and then lowers his shaking hand to the desk. Ink drips from the quill to the wood.
"You've found me at last, Albus," Gellert had said. "I'm impressed."
Back when they were younger they always tried to outdo each other. Golden boys of innovation, their teachers called them. Albus had lived for the moments when Gellert's eyes went wide, when he smiled like he hadn't meant to. They went too far, back then, planning for a brighter future. Darkness came instead, and it left them on either side of a widening gap of values.
Gellert smiled like that, when Albus pushed him back. His face froze like that when Albus snapped his neck, and it smiled at him until Albus looked away. Albus dreamed that night of the face of a friend, frozen still, like a Muggle photograph.
"It could have been different," Gellert had said. "This was your dream, too."
"Not this," Albus had replied. "Never this."
He killed with love. His hands still shake, but he smiles into the mirror when he passes it to send the letter, and in his face he sees the echoes of a younger man.
[Supernatural] Was Blind But Now I See (the Things Unsaid Remix)
Original fic: History and Words Left Unspoken by emmademarais
Meta: Supernatural; 200 words; G; no warnings.
The moment Uriel knows it to be over he shuts his eyes, even before Anna demands it. He could try to retrieve the grace before Anna recovers it, true. He might succeed. His orders were never to fight her, though, merely to kill her. Anna the human, he could kill. Humans he hates. To see her clothed in their form, not borrowed but grown, stirs a wrath Lucifer would applaud in him. To see her kissing that human, the righteous man that Michael sent for -- that makes him ill.
But Anna was once his commander, and she led him not astray. Uriel doesn't wish to harm her. He does what he's told because in the end he knows who will really win out.
Light flares against his eyelids, and he knows that when it dims she will be gone. He opens his eyes, and sees -- Castiel, eyes wide in what can only be awe. Castiel still sees beauty in the world. In humans. In Anna. But give him time, and he'll see. Uriel has witnessed the fall of the pure. He knows how he can replicate it.
No one, not even an angel, can close his eyes forever.
[Merlin] Trust Falls (the Down To My Ankles Remix)
Original Fic: Of Swords and Ankles by miakun
Meta: Merlin; 370 words; G; no warnings.
Arthur doesn't know magic. He's not like Merlin, born with it as strong as the idiocy he used to display so often. And he's not his father either, seeing it everywhere he looks. Arthur knows dangerous and useful and (he hopes) wrong and right, and so far magic has been every one of those things, so he knows that he can't be close to understanding it. And that's why he doesn't trust magic.
This sword, the one Merlin's holding up to him, this is magic. It's almost humming, pulling at his hand, and Arthur accepts it almost without thinking. Touching it sends a jolt like touching metal before a storm though his arm, and his fingers sting with it. He sucks in a breath. It's fire, lightning, coiled in the metal in his hand. It's almost alive. This sword could topple kingdoms or destroy magicians for good or kill a dragon in a single blow. As much as he knows he will wield this sword, he knows he can't trust it, either.
Merlin knows magic. Merlin knows this sword, too, by the way he handled it and the way he watches it now, frowning, wary. Merlin knows these things like Arthur knows duty and command, having grown into them the same way. There are still flashes of gold in his blue eyes, as there have been since the day he shed his disguise, and there's maturity there, too. The manservant Arthur pushed around and expected messes from when it didn't matter and relied on when it did is gone. Merlin's powerful, now, not quite a subject, but loyal in a way that sometimes shakes Arthur to the core and sometimes has him fearing for the day when that loyalty will end. Not that Merlin will harm him -- but that Merlin will leave.
Arthur holds up the sword, feeling the energy buzzing along its length, following Merlin's eyes as they look slowly up. Then Merlin looks back down and their eyes meet, and Arthur's breath catches. The same energy in the sword is in the air between them. Right now, if Merlin wanted to, he could probably do anything.
But Arthur trusts Merlin, so he doesn't step back. He smiles.
[Harry Potter] Letters Sometimes Lie (the Famous Last Stand Remix)
Original fic: The Cabinet War Rooms by velvetmouse
Meta: Harry Potter; 250 words; PG; no warnings.
Albus doesn't enjoy lying, but it is a heavily edited version of the truth that he sends to Churchill following the fall of Grindelwald. Horror at the act of murder, the dashed hope for a chance to redeem: these things he can relate. He spins a brief explanation, signs his name with one last sweep of the quill, and then lowers his shaking hand to the desk. Ink drips from the quill to the wood.
"You've found me at last, Albus," Gellert had said. "I'm impressed."
Back when they were younger they always tried to outdo each other. Golden boys of innovation, their teachers called them. Albus had lived for the moments when Gellert's eyes went wide, when he smiled like he hadn't meant to. They went too far, back then, planning for a brighter future. Darkness came instead, and it left them on either side of a widening gap of values.
Gellert smiled like that, when Albus pushed him back. His face froze like that when Albus snapped his neck, and it smiled at him until Albus looked away. Albus dreamed that night of the face of a friend, frozen still, like a Muggle photograph.
"It could have been different," Gellert had said. "This was your dream, too."
"Not this," Albus had replied. "Never this."
He killed with love. His hands still shake, but he smiles into the mirror when he passes it to send the letter, and in his face he sees the echoes of a younger man.
[Supernatural] Was Blind But Now I See (the Things Unsaid Remix)
Original fic: History and Words Left Unspoken by emmademarais
Meta: Supernatural; 200 words; G; no warnings.
The moment Uriel knows it to be over he shuts his eyes, even before Anna demands it. He could try to retrieve the grace before Anna recovers it, true. He might succeed. His orders were never to fight her, though, merely to kill her. Anna the human, he could kill. Humans he hates. To see her clothed in their form, not borrowed but grown, stirs a wrath Lucifer would applaud in him. To see her kissing that human, the righteous man that Michael sent for -- that makes him ill.
But Anna was once his commander, and she led him not astray. Uriel doesn't wish to harm her. He does what he's told because in the end he knows who will really win out.
Light flares against his eyelids, and he knows that when it dims she will be gone. He opens his eyes, and sees -- Castiel, eyes wide in what can only be awe. Castiel still sees beauty in the world. In humans. In Anna. But give him time, and he'll see. Uriel has witnessed the fall of the pure. He knows how he can replicate it.
No one, not even an angel, can close his eyes forever.