Ficbits AGAIN?

[mithrigil]

.

Good god, am I doing one of these every other week now? (I. I just. I keep getting enough done. And I'm a little drained after Visitation.)

FICBIT ME.

Bits will be five hundred words at least. Any fandom you know I know.

I am receptive to crossovers* this time around. (white_aster, I am looking STRAIGHT AT YOU.) In fact, if it is something I have

Comments

[karthur]

I'm predicatble. Silverberg me, girlie. Preferrably something smexy involving Mathiu. Mmm...Mathiu.

[mithrigil]

Hee. I have to wonder if this is what you meant.

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for Kristin - I don’t do this for everyone

They never kiss. It isn’t that she hates kissing, or hates kissing him, which might be more offensive; Mathiu reasons (in the part of him that still reasoned at the moment) that there is something for her, about being that close to another person’s face, that sparks her off. That close to something, you should be able to see it for what it is; you can’t

[karthur]

Niiiiiiiiiiiiiice. Love it!
I always wondered how well Mathiu knew Kimberley...heeee.

She's so delightfully skanky and you write her perfectly. Well done!
Thanks so much, this made my day!

[mithrigil]

Hee. It was a risk, and I took it, and ROCK.

[straussmonster]

I angle for adorable.

Basch and Penelo, weapons practice.

[mithrigil]

for Straussmonster - Switchboard

“How…how many blobs was that

[straussmonster]

♥ ♥ ♥

You see, first time through the Henne Mines I missed the first switchboard to the map, so the second one came as a surprise.

You should have *heard* the noises made to fadedpaladin about that one. :D

[mithrigil]

THAT TOTALLY HAPPENED TO ME twice.

Next time, record the noises, I've got a seminar in electronic music coming up next year and Eric Moe's teaching.

[karthur]

<3 for #2. If I ever write another Nina fanfic, the title shall be: "In a World of Tossed Salad and Lite Ranch Dressing, Freeze Dried Bacon Bits are a Must"

[mithrigil]

Option 3, for the win.

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for Merc - Northern Lights

Flik took the second watch, and for once, because he wanted to. The night was blissfully clear, and he and Viktor were far enough north that the twining patterns on the horizon still showed among the stars, colored by both moons. Even though he was meant to be watching for monsters, the open field and the open sky were far more diverting, and the play of the stars was too exciting to lull him or bore him. Nights like this were rare, and Flik had little doubt that Viktor wouldn’t appreciate it.

At least keeping his sword within reach, Flik leaned back on his hands and stared at the stars. To return to Toran would make it seem like there had always been a shortage, now that he’d seen this many. Perhaps Viktor would appreciate it, he considered, frowning a little at the pale swathes of light to the north and listening to Viktor’s bedroll-muffled snoring. It would be hard not to think of something like this as beautiful

[mithrigil]

This is a little short.

I still loved writing it.

I think you can tell.
--

for JSG - Snapping

She thrusts her hand down her leathers and thinks of fire.

Starts small, to be sure; a striking match, and the hiss it makes on the sandpaper tongue of its casement, or the coarser snapping sound of it husking on stone. She wishes she could make those noises, and not the sickening, needy wet sounds that are coming out of her throat and from between her working fingers. Base, animal slaps, the half-hearted whips of half-hearted penitents for sins they only wish they committed. Oh. Oh. She thinks of them catching fire now, the smell of their hair and their skin as it crisps, good wood and strong oil and the whetstone reek of blood on the wind. One first, then dozens, and their cries begin to ring in her ears, rattling and swelling, cracking in counterpoint with the licking flames. She bites her lip. The starched hide of her pants weeps oil against the back of her, batting her closer to herself. She rocks forward, like a man, she fancies

[wodhaund]

I request Gabranth/Drace fluff of some kind. Possibly involving fine Rozarrian cacao! 8D

Alternatively, Al-Cid being...Al-Cid at Basch. Because that sort of hilarity just begs to be written.

[mithrigil]

I like this one. I like this one.

It's not fluff, precisely...but it's as close as I get.

TWO COMMENTS!

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for Boots - Weathervane

“Der Wind spielt drinnen mit dem Herzen wie auf dem Dach,” Gabranth sings, holding the note long and softer than it could be. The tone still on his lips, he reaches down toward the sleeping child’s cheek. When Larsa does not shudder at the faint testing touch of leather, and his sleep’s-breath remains even, Gabranth smiles and goes on with the phrase, “nur nicht so laut…” Though the song itself is still not finished, Gabranth turns away from the child’s bed. On his way out, he sidesteps some fallen toys, soft caricatured animals and a complex mess of ribbons and hoops and beads. The boy is old enough now to not gnaw on his playthings, but not quite old enough to make sense of them. Nonetheless, he knows how to lay them, haphazard, to hinder Gabranth leaving

[wodhaund]

Pfft, not fluff, says you.

What an absolutely lovely end to an evening. ♥

[mariagoner]

The boy is old enough now to not gnaw on his playthings, but not quite old enough to make sense of them. Nonetheless, he knows how to lay them, haphazard, to hinder Gabranth leaving.

Larsa, you cunning brat. You really are from Solidor stock.

AND DRACE IN PLAITS? HOT, MAN. I DEMAND ILLUSTRATION FROM A JAPANESE FAN-SITE NOW!