Fic: Minifics, various fandoms
So, what have I been doing the last few days instead of working on my Yuletide fic? Since I'm at that point with Yuletide where I'm thinking Oh god, why did I say I could write this?!?, I've been goofing off and writing tiny little bits of random fic instead.
The first two are from comment_fic, on the theme of 56 words.
Prompt: Prompt: Firefly, River, snow
Blank
“It's so clean,” she says. “Blank canvas. Frozen, but with the ability to be shaped and melted away.”
Mal watches her, crouched in the snow, her hands turning red from the cold, and hasn't even got time to move before her snowball hits him. “Can be a weapon, too,” she says, and laughs.
***
Prompt: The Chronicles of Narnia, Lucy, Home is where your heart is
Blood Bonds
The trees don't speak here. They don't dance or sing, don't whisper secrets to her. They are silent, old, secretive.
Lucy watches her siblings as they try to adjust, blundering their way through, too pained and quiet for children. “We are still home though, don't you see?” she asks, finally. “We have each other.”
***
The next batch is from the excellent and highly enjoyable three sentence ficathon, which I would encourage everyone to go and check out; you can prompt any fandom, any pairing/characters, and filling prompts is very low-pressure since you only need to come up with three sentences! I've had lots of fun, and even written for a bunch of new fandoms.
The Silmarillion
Prompt: The Silmarillion, Fingon/Maedhros, you can do no wrong / In my eyes
No Wrong
He dreamed it a thousand times in the endless haze of pain, every word he would say to his cousin, every plea for forgiveness and absolution ready on his lips.
When it finally comes, he finds he's not prepared, not only for the sword and the wrenching sharpness, but for Fingon's voice in his ear, a sigh out of a dream, speaking his own words.
“Forgive me, please, forgive.”
***
Chronicles of Narnia
Prompt: Narnia, Maugrim (& the Secret Police), sometimes they're the good guys.
One More Drifter in the Snow
He stops outside the den to rub his muzzle in the endless snow, watching with satisfaction as the whiteness darkens with the remnants of faun's blood.
He does not regret his work, not one bit. Not when he noses the door open to hear the squeal of his pups, and knows they are safe for another day.
***
Firefly
Prompt: Firefly, Mal & River, bloody hands
This Is Where We Are
He knows it ain't right, using her on jobs, no matter how much she tells him she wants to be used; still, it makes them money and keeps his crew safe besides, and those are two things he's never had much of an argument with.
Ain't right though, when she walks straight up to him after the job's gone bad, after she's made herself a weapon again for his sake. She never lays a word of blame on him, just takes his hand in hers, leaving him stained red and sticky, blood gathered in the lines of his palm.
***
Trixie Belden
Prompt: Trixie Belden, Brian/Honey, "Do you think anyone knows?"
Something We Need to Share
His face is so serious she almost believes it's a sincere question; he is the best of his siblings at concealing his feelings, after all. But then he cracks, and laughs, and she buries her giggles against his naked shoulder, trying to keep quiet in the dim secret shelter of the old clubhouse.
“With Trixie as your sister, we'll be lucky if there's anyone who doesn't know.”
***
Chronicles of Narnia/Downton Abbey
Prompt: Chronicles of Narnia/Downton Abbey, Edith & Lucy, stars
Overdue
“The stars are so different here,” Lucy says, forehead pressed to the car window, looking up into the night.
“I would have loved to have traveled, and seen a different sky,” Edith says, steering carefully around a bend in the road.
“You still might; you never know where the stars will find you,” Lucy replies, worlds away.
***
The Secret Garden
Prompt: The Secret Garden, Mary & Dickon, India
Salty Conditions
The heat is terrific here, stifling and so full of moisture Dickon fancies he can see it hanging in the air. He understands Mary better now - the Mary who first came to England, sickly and listless, shivering in the Yorkshire chills, that is, because the Mary who's beside him now, looking up at the great grey creature with laughter in her eyes, is a very different girl indeed.
“Come, Dickon, the elephant will not wait all day for us!” she says, scrambling up to sit high on its back, and as always, his only choice is to take her hand and follow her lead.
The first two are from comment_fic, on the theme of 56 words.
Prompt: Prompt: Firefly, River, snow
Blank
“It's so clean,” she says. “Blank canvas. Frozen, but with the ability to be shaped and melted away.”
Mal watches her, crouched in the snow, her hands turning red from the cold, and hasn't even got time to move before her snowball hits him. “Can be a weapon, too,” she says, and laughs.
***
Prompt: The Chronicles of Narnia, Lucy, Home is where your heart is
Blood Bonds
The trees don't speak here. They don't dance or sing, don't whisper secrets to her. They are silent, old, secretive.
Lucy watches her siblings as they try to adjust, blundering their way through, too pained and quiet for children. “We are still home though, don't you see?” she asks, finally. “We have each other.”
***
The next batch is from the excellent and highly enjoyable three sentence ficathon, which I would encourage everyone to go and check out; you can prompt any fandom, any pairing/characters, and filling prompts is very low-pressure since you only need to come up with three sentences! I've had lots of fun, and even written for a bunch of new fandoms.
The Silmarillion
Prompt: The Silmarillion, Fingon/Maedhros, you can do no wrong / In my eyes
No Wrong
He dreamed it a thousand times in the endless haze of pain, every word he would say to his cousin, every plea for forgiveness and absolution ready on his lips.
When it finally comes, he finds he's not prepared, not only for the sword and the wrenching sharpness, but for Fingon's voice in his ear, a sigh out of a dream, speaking his own words.
“Forgive me, please, forgive.”
***
Chronicles of Narnia
Prompt: Narnia, Maugrim (& the Secret Police), sometimes they're the good guys.
One More Drifter in the Snow
He stops outside the den to rub his muzzle in the endless snow, watching with satisfaction as the whiteness darkens with the remnants of faun's blood.
He does not regret his work, not one bit. Not when he noses the door open to hear the squeal of his pups, and knows they are safe for another day.
***
Firefly
Prompt: Firefly, Mal & River, bloody hands
This Is Where We Are
He knows it ain't right, using her on jobs, no matter how much she tells him she wants to be used; still, it makes them money and keeps his crew safe besides, and those are two things he's never had much of an argument with.
Ain't right though, when she walks straight up to him after the job's gone bad, after she's made herself a weapon again for his sake. She never lays a word of blame on him, just takes his hand in hers, leaving him stained red and sticky, blood gathered in the lines of his palm.
***
Trixie Belden
Prompt: Trixie Belden, Brian/Honey, "Do you think anyone knows?"
Something We Need to Share
His face is so serious she almost believes it's a sincere question; he is the best of his siblings at concealing his feelings, after all. But then he cracks, and laughs, and she buries her giggles against his naked shoulder, trying to keep quiet in the dim secret shelter of the old clubhouse.
“With Trixie as your sister, we'll be lucky if there's anyone who doesn't know.”
***
Chronicles of Narnia/Downton Abbey
Prompt: Chronicles of Narnia/Downton Abbey, Edith & Lucy, stars
Overdue
“The stars are so different here,” Lucy says, forehead pressed to the car window, looking up into the night.
“I would have loved to have traveled, and seen a different sky,” Edith says, steering carefully around a bend in the road.
“You still might; you never know where the stars will find you,” Lucy replies, worlds away.
***
The Secret Garden
Prompt: The Secret Garden, Mary & Dickon, India
Salty Conditions
The heat is terrific here, stifling and so full of moisture Dickon fancies he can see it hanging in the air. He understands Mary better now - the Mary who first came to England, sickly and listless, shivering in the Yorkshire chills, that is, because the Mary who's beside him now, looking up at the great grey creature with laughter in her eyes, is a very different girl indeed.
“Come, Dickon, the elephant will not wait all day for us!” she says, scrambling up to sit high on its back, and as always, his only choice is to take her hand and follow her lead.