FICLETS: "On the Cemetery Grass" for trkkr47's first line challenge.
*L* I know, I know, I should be writing Kink!Ficlets. But I just found some freetime for the first time this week and was utterly enchanted by trkkr47's line of "Dew sparkled on the cemetery grass like countless glass beads in the slanting morning sunlight." in her first line challenge which can be found here! So...hope it's okay, I'm posting these in my journal!
*pokes poor whithered angstmuse* Gee, I must not be feeding the poor thing! I thought she was about dead.
*pets angst muse, until realizing that comfort really isn't the things angst muses live on* Huh. Maybe I should feed you some tears, character death, and general unhappiness? Alright then. Sorry for the poor quality, but maybe these will help a bit?
3 Ficlets: On the Cemetery Grass
Author: PhenDog
Rating: G pretty much
Disclaim: Not mine, but pretending otherwise!
Warning: DARK!
Summary: Three scenes of morning on the cemetery grass.
=========================
Oz-100 words
Dew sparkled on the cemetery grass like countless glass beads in the slanting morning sunlight.
Oz stretched with the languidness of waking, feeling on his bare skin the soft comfort of the grass below and the warming blanket of the sun above before he had time to take further notice of the situation.
Slowly, he realized he was not alone, and someone was watching him, breathing quietly from behind.
“Willow?” he asked, rolling over to a naked female form.
But his companion was not who he expected, and he panicked as the blonde she-wolf smiled back at him. “Guess again.”
Giles-200 words
Dew sparkled on the cemetery grass like countless glass beads in the slanting morning sunlight-nature's prismatic attempt to wash away the night. The rainbows danced and changed as the pinks and soft yellows of living daybreak gave way to the startling blue that promised a clear California day.
But this, all this, combined with the lilting symphony of birdsong and the pungent smell of vegetation which rose as his feet sank into the loam between the gravestones was merely a background for the masterpiece that came suddenly into view, placed there for his private viewing.
His vision narrowed when he saw it; bright red swaths decorating the verdant emerald lawn, as if someone had splashed the colors wildly on the canvas with little care for the details and an eye only to the striking contrast of the end result, framing that which lay at the work's very center.
This is what it was like when he found her-the brave warrior who had failed to return home before the dawn. At that moment, the colors of the world drained and faded, and all he saw was the broken body of his Slayer condemning him to a life of grey.
Xander-300 words
Dew sparkled on the cemetery grass like countless glass beads in the slanting morning sunlight, but Xander barely noticed.
Instead, he sat numbly in shock, dimly noting the soot that seemed to cover him, seeping into his pores. One shaking finger brushed across the opposite palm, wiping away the ash and revealing the blistered and charred skin beneath. But the horror of the present moment was a virtual relief compared to the images of the past few hours.
The vampires drained her and forced her to drink. He'd seen it, and by the time he'd gotten to her, he'd known there was nothing he could do. There was no breath, no pulse, no life left, and never would be again. They had killed his best friend, but worse than that, they had ensured her rest would be anything but peaceful. Xander knew she'd rise again, but he didn't know how to stop it. Instead, he'd gathered the body into his arms and cried for her, daring the vampires to return, raging at the unfairness of the darkness.
He didn't even notice the sunrise until wisps of smoke were already curling up around her serene features, and then she'd opened those green eyes for the first time since her death. He had just enough time to see the surprise before she began to her soul-shattering howl, dying for the second time by the sun’s cleansing force.
Perhaps it was merely the demon feeling the pain, and not his friend at all. Either way, he would have given anything for a stake to grant what mercy he could. Unfortunately, he had none. In the end, all he'd been able to do was hold her as the sunlight offered her the peace she deserved, allowing the body to follow the soul into dust.
=========================
*angst muse still looks a bit malnourished, but purrs slightly*
*pokes poor whithered angstmuse* Gee, I must not be feeding the poor thing! I thought she was about dead.
*pets angst muse, until realizing that comfort really isn't the things angst muses live on* Huh. Maybe I should feed you some tears, character death, and general unhappiness? Alright then. Sorry for the poor quality, but maybe these will help a bit?
3 Ficlets: On the Cemetery Grass
Author: PhenDog
Rating: G pretty much
Disclaim: Not mine, but pretending otherwise!
Warning: DARK!
Summary: Three scenes of morning on the cemetery grass.
=========================
Oz-100 words
Dew sparkled on the cemetery grass like countless glass beads in the slanting morning sunlight.
Oz stretched with the languidness of waking, feeling on his bare skin the soft comfort of the grass below and the warming blanket of the sun above before he had time to take further notice of the situation.
Slowly, he realized he was not alone, and someone was watching him, breathing quietly from behind.
“Willow?” he asked, rolling over to a naked female form.
But his companion was not who he expected, and he panicked as the blonde she-wolf smiled back at him. “Guess again.”
Giles-200 words
Dew sparkled on the cemetery grass like countless glass beads in the slanting morning sunlight-nature's prismatic attempt to wash away the night. The rainbows danced and changed as the pinks and soft yellows of living daybreak gave way to the startling blue that promised a clear California day.
But this, all this, combined with the lilting symphony of birdsong and the pungent smell of vegetation which rose as his feet sank into the loam between the gravestones was merely a background for the masterpiece that came suddenly into view, placed there for his private viewing.
His vision narrowed when he saw it; bright red swaths decorating the verdant emerald lawn, as if someone had splashed the colors wildly on the canvas with little care for the details and an eye only to the striking contrast of the end result, framing that which lay at the work's very center.
This is what it was like when he found her-the brave warrior who had failed to return home before the dawn. At that moment, the colors of the world drained and faded, and all he saw was the broken body of his Slayer condemning him to a life of grey.
Xander-300 words
Dew sparkled on the cemetery grass like countless glass beads in the slanting morning sunlight, but Xander barely noticed.
Instead, he sat numbly in shock, dimly noting the soot that seemed to cover him, seeping into his pores. One shaking finger brushed across the opposite palm, wiping away the ash and revealing the blistered and charred skin beneath. But the horror of the present moment was a virtual relief compared to the images of the past few hours.
The vampires drained her and forced her to drink. He'd seen it, and by the time he'd gotten to her, he'd known there was nothing he could do. There was no breath, no pulse, no life left, and never would be again. They had killed his best friend, but worse than that, they had ensured her rest would be anything but peaceful. Xander knew she'd rise again, but he didn't know how to stop it. Instead, he'd gathered the body into his arms and cried for her, daring the vampires to return, raging at the unfairness of the darkness.
He didn't even notice the sunrise until wisps of smoke were already curling up around her serene features, and then she'd opened those green eyes for the first time since her death. He had just enough time to see the surprise before she began to her soul-shattering howl, dying for the second time by the sun’s cleansing force.
Perhaps it was merely the demon feeling the pain, and not his friend at all. Either way, he would have given anything for a stake to grant what mercy he could. Unfortunately, he had none. In the end, all he'd been able to do was hold her as the sunlight offered her the peace she deserved, allowing the body to follow the soul into dust.
=========================
*angst muse still looks a bit malnourished, but purrs slightly*