tigriswolf: (Ghost)
[personal profile] tigriswolf





Title: finally, spring comes
Fandom: Snow White
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: spoilers for centuries-old fairy tale
Pairings: Snow White/prince
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 140
Point of view: third
Prompt: Snow White, a more colorful life

 

After the wedding, Snow cleared out the palace of any of Stepmother's things. She kept only the mirror.

Her husband asked her why, when she wore summersky blue and gentle lavender, bright orange scarves and light pink gloves and grass green boots. She never matched, and while her beauty more than made up for it, the court talked.

Snow didn't care. She danced in front of the mirror, laughing, finally able to be as colorful as she wanted. No more a drab little moth of a girl, now Snow was queen. The mirror was hers, the crown and the throne, with her ebony hair, bloodred lips, and skin pale as her namesake.

No more moth of a girl, servant, lowly. She was finally spreading her wings, flowering into a blossom, spiraling up to the sky, colorful as the dawn.




 

Title: snowball
Fandom:  Dark Angel
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: takes place after season 2
Pairings: none stated
Rating: PGish
Wordcount: 125
Point of view: third
Prompt: Max/Alec, little white lie

 

He's been lying to her since Manticore burned down. Not even to her face, but always a lie of omission every time they tangled.

Watching him against the Familiars when there's room to move, when he's not already exhausted and injured, it's a revelation. The smart aleck con-artist is pure grace, fluid and quicksilver, faster than she's ever been, and stronger, too.

He could have put her in the dirt any time, pinned her down and not let her up. Could have beat her into submission, caught her leg or her arm, snapped her in two.

“Max!” he yells. “Two o’clock!”

She spins around, dodging a Familiar’s fist. Now’s not the time to have a crisis. They’ll talk later.

Fuck yes, they’ll talk. And fight.


 

Title: deep blue and evergreen
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: spoilers for the series
Pairings: onesided Zuko/Sokka
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 260
Point of view: third
Prompt: Sokka/Zuko, elemental colors

 

Sokka's eyes are as blue as the water his sister bends, and Zuko often finds himself entranced. It is fascinating how all the nations embody their particular element.

The earthbenders are solid and steady(most of the time), hard-workers and trustworthy, like the dirt beneath their feet and the mountains they can command.

From what Zuko knows of the airbenders, the monks high in the peaks, they were clever and quick, easy to laugh and easy to forgive. Aang is certainly that way. What he's brushed aside at the lightest of apologies... Zuko will have to keep close watch, to insure the Avatar is not taken advantage of in the fiery court.

And the waterbenders... Zuko shivers, remembering how Katara defeated Azula. They have emotions that fluctuate on the scantest of reasons, and they can be so cold that Zuko feared he would never find a way in, to attempt redemption for his sins. But while it took a mutual enemy and lightning to truly unite Katara and Zuko, her brother never really seemed to hold the past against him.

Zuko’s people, he knows, are hated across the world for being warmongering and merciless, ready to flame and flay for the slightest reason. Zuko has much to make up for, and he wants to show everyone that fire can nurture and heal, as well as raze to the ground.

Sokka’s eyes are as blue as the water his sister bends, and Zuko longs to let himself sink in, forgetting all the troubles of a world nearly shattered apart.





 

Title: funeral pyre, run red with blood
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: spoilers for season 4; takes place during “In My Time Of Dying”
Pairings: John/Mary
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 285
Point of view: third
Prompt: author's choice, the color of sacrifice

 

John tells his boys goodbye, though they don't know it, and strides to meet Mary's murderer again.

He places the gun on the table, staring into Azazel's stolen eyes, and thinks back to Sam's confused green gaze, how big and strong he's gotten, how so unknowingly powerful. He remembers how frail Dean looked, how he broke in Azazel's grip, how as a boy he did everything John ever asked, but he won't do the one last task John has set him. (John's counting on that. Dean's the wildcard, always has been.)

As John stares at the one thing he's ever truly hated, he thinks back to Mary, her blonde hair gleaming gold in sunlight, her bright and quick smile, her calloused hands and booming laugh. He remembers her eyes as he woke up in the dirt, neck aching, her father bloody and dead at her feet.

He remembers that stranger who convinced him to buy the impala, and how the man’s gaze could sear through him like Mary’s, the man who’s no longer a stranger, who’s confused and aching in a bed five rooms down.

“I’m honestly surprised, John,” Azazel says, stolen hand tracing the cold metal of Samuel Colt’s greatest creation.

John pictures Mary in his mind, how she gently kissed their boys before putting them to bed that final night.

“I’m not,” he says. Sacrifice seems to run in their family, and he hopes their boys know better.

(He suspects that’s a foolish hope, just like he knows Mary will meet him where he’s going, because there’s only one ending for those who make devil-deals.

He prays, in that final second, that Dean will never join them there. It’s a futile prayer.)






 

Title: to the end
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: future!fic
Pairings: none stated
Rating: PGish
Wordcount: 87
Point of view: third
Prompt: Sam/Dean, take me with you

 

It comes down to Dean and Sam standing at the abyss, angels and demons dust behind them, Hell's gaping maw before, and the throne that Sam has never wanted.

"Tell me what to do," Sam whispers, suddenly all of six and wanting his big brother to make everything better. Dean used to be good at that.

Dean raises his head, lifts his hand, touches Sam's shoulder, then wraps his fingers around the back of Sam's neck.

All he says is, "Take me with you" and that's enough.

(no subject)

Date: 2009-08-08 08:29 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] victoria-king.livejournal.com
Wow, that last one... Wow, it was just beautiful, really touching. So Dean.

You know what? I've read fics that are about 50 000 words in length but none of them have touched my heart like this.

Good job!

(no subject)

Date: 2009-08-08 04:04 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] azinazelle.livejournal.com
You've said so much in so few words. It really would be Hell for Sam if he was separated from Dean forever.

(no subject)

Date: 2009-08-09 04:02 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dreamlittleyo.livejournal.com
Oh, beautiful! *adores*

(no subject)

Date: 2009-08-09 07:24 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dreamlittleyo.livejournal.com
Nope, this isn't a title I'm familiar with - is it one I should be adding to my high priority list?

(no subject)

Date: 2009-08-10 02:15 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dreamlittleyo.livejournal.com
Oooh, pretty! *orders right away*

(no subject)

Date: 2009-08-09 10:20 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] smirkalot-89.livejournal.com
Brillant! You always manage to give quite a blow in few words, true talent and I LOVE it.

*sigh* yeah, Im happy now.

(no subject)

Date: 2009-08-10 01:58 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] layne67.livejournal.com
The last two, so powerful, so perfectly written.

Profile

tigriswolf: (Default)
tigriswolf

September 2021

S M T W T F S
    1234
567891011
12131415161718
19202122232425
2627282930  

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags