Title: Those Who Defy
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Alice/Frank
Word Count: 200
Written for: [profile] first_order's Speed Drabble Weekend, prompt loud and defiant

Frank was the one who told her about the prophecy.

He had to meet Dumbledore alone since Alice had been stuck all day with a group of expectant mothers, teaching an Auror-sponsored workshop on how to protect themselves and their families from a Death Eater attack. It was pointless and it was useless, but the workshops seemed to be all the Ministry would assign her ever since they found out she was pregnant.

“Voldemort’s going after our baby?” she asked when Frank’s words sunk in. “No, wait—”

Her husband nodded sombrely. She had thought someone had died when she first arrived home and saw his face. “It might be Lily and James. They defied him three times as well. Dumbledore doesn’t know.”

For a brief moment, Alice allowed herself to wonder if it was worth it, whether what they did was worth the price they paid.

That moment passed and Alice pushed those doubts away. She smiled at Frank. It was shaky and there was no humour behind it, but her husband would appreciate it all the same.

“Then let’s hunt down that bastard. Even if we can’t—even if—at the very least, let’s make it four times.”
Title: Red
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Lily/James
Word Count: 200
Written for: [profile] first_order's Speed Drabble Weekend, prompt my face is red

Lily Potter was embarrassed beyond belief. She could feel her face grow hot when the others finally came into the room and saw the humiliating tableau she presented.

Picking herself up off the floor, she tried to walk through them to the door with as much dignity and grace as she could muster, but her legs wobbled and she slipped once again.

James caught her, holding her tight, but even he was too mortified to look her in the eyes, staring off over her shoulder instead.

“Lily, Lily,” he cried into her ear, “what are you doing?”

Lily didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so she did both.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she said, trying to control herself, “I don’t know what everyone must think of me.”

“Lily,” James said again. He cupped her face, lightly trailing two fingers over her cheekbone. Her blush rubbed off on them.

She stared at his fingers, touched them hesitantly. They were wet and sticky, the colour and consistency of blood. Touching her face, she found more of it there. Her face was covered in blood.

“Lily,” James was saying, “what happened? Please, please, tell me what happened.”

Lily couldn’t answer. She didn’t know.
Title: Kilt
Fandom: Dark Angel
Character/Pairings: Normal (with hints of Normal/Alec)
Word Count: 261
Written for: [community profile] comment_fic prompt by [profile] yoruichiyoshi12, kilt

Normal vaguely remembered his father telling him once, when he had to do a genealogical project at school, that his ancestors came from Scotland, but as a young boy Reagan never cared. He had been born in America, and so had his father, and his father's father, and he was proud of that. He didn't know how to speak Gaelic, he'd never eaten a sheep's stomach (not even after the Pulse, when the good cuts of meat were hard to come by; some habits were hard to break) and he'd only had two glasses of whisky in his life, thirteen years apart.

Still, he blamed the dream on some kind of genetic memory. How else could he explain the image of Alec, coming over a rugged and green hill wearing a kilt and sporran, his chest bare despite the briskness of the Scottish afternoon. It had been a windy day in the highlands, too, with not a single sheep in sight. He woke up just as Alec was proving that old rumour about what Scotsmen didn't wear beneath their kilts.

The next day at work, he remembered how poorly his Golden Boy had reacted to the gladiator dream, so kept his mouth and instead started plotting ways to get him back into the ring, since that was a more realistic goal.

Still, he thought, after yelling at Missy Miss to get a move on (she threw him a sullen look, but at least started sauntering up to dispatch) maybe he should introduce the degenerates he worked with to Robbie Burns Night.
So I wrote another one for Multi-Fandom Request-A-Fic Meme Type-Thing, which everyone should go over and check out. There are plenty of fulfilled--and unfulfilled--requests for fandoms that I know you guys like, such as Harry Potter, Pirates of the Caribbean, Twilight and Narnia.

Title: Dancing
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Characters: River, Simon
Word Count: 175
Written for: [profile] kissingdaylight's prompt let's go dancing while we've still got feet

She dances for Wash, sometimes. Lazy pirouettes or a glissade culminating in grand jeté to break through atmo. Another captain might complain, another crew wonder, but Mal and the others know better than anyone that Serenity loves to dance.

Wash would have loved it.

River tells Simon this, just once.

She drowns, a flashflood of fear.

“Oh, mei mei.” She doesn’t answer; she doesn’t know if he says this or not.

“River, Wash is… gone.”

She scowls at him, her brother who is so smart but can’t understand a metaphor.

“Dead,” she supplies, biting her tongue to keep from elaborating. She knows dead; they taught her that.

Slowly the flood waters recede and River can breathe without choking. The fear is still here, is part of the Simon--is always part of Simon.

River put that fear there.

He worries about her. He won’t tell her that he thinks it’s temporary, this clarity since Miranda. She won’t tell him that she knows. She, too, is waiting for the relapse.

Until then, River will keep dancing.
Title: Eliza
Fandom: PotC
Word Count: 163
Character: Weatherby
Written for: umm... the bed prompt at BPS, I think. I wrote this some time ago, but apparently forgot to post it here.

They meant well, his sisters, his peers.

"Elizabeth needs a mother," Reagan would say, and Weatherby couldn't rightly argue she was mistaken, that his daughter wasn't running around wild as a native in the New World where he'd been offered his post.

"A governor needs a wife," said Archibald. It wasn't all he said, of course, but Weatherby wouldn't entertain thoughts of his other reasons why his friend was pushing matrimony.

But just as he couldn't imagine another woman living in Eliza's house, picture someone else asleep in their marriage bed, he couldn't bring himself to remand Elizabeth, even as she slid into tables to the tut-tuts of the guests. He was still relieved she could run at all, having been so stricken with the same illness that felled her mother.

In the end, it was easier to leave behind all reminders of his wife and start anew in Port Royal than it could ever be to find another woman to replace her.
Title: Afternoon Tea Party
Fandom: PotC
Characters: Weatherby Swann, Elizabeth, Will
Word Count: 200
Written for: Last week's challenge at BPS, with inspiration from mpstigers.

“Will, it’s just pretend! You needn’t be so worried!”

Indeed, Young Turner seemed concerned, peppering Elizabeth with questions on how to pour the tea. Weatherby would have preferred it had Elizabeth chose to play hostess, but at least her instructions were correct.

“But Miss Swann,” he protested. “It’s real tea. And real china!”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “But it’s a fake tea party.”

Laughing a little at his daughter’s logic, Weatherby admitted to himself that it was nice to see his daughter act like a proper young girl for once. Hopefully she had finally gotten over her obsession with pirates. He might have preferred it if she had chosen herself a more suitable playmate than the blacksmith’s apprentice, but he would take any progress.

Content for once with his daughter’s sense of propriety, Weatherby went indoors and missed the next part.

“Then Miss Swann, shouldn’t we play with pretend china as well?” Will protested futilely.

“Arr, don’t call me Miss Swann, for I am Calico Liz, the dread pirate, and I’m here to plunder your tea party and make off with your china!” Pulling out an imaginary sword, Elizabeth started plundering.

The preliminary now complete, the game started in earnest.
Title: Horizon
Fandom: Harry Potter
Character: Bellatrix
Word Count: 281

Bellatrix knew that something was going to happen from the way that the Dementors had been acting. It was easy enough to predict what was going on in the prison based on the ebb and flow of memories, so long as one had the presence of mind to track their intensity against the arrival of a new prisoner, the death of an old one and anything else in between. But then, no one in Azkaban kept their sanity so no one could truly predict what the Dementors would do next.

But still, she knew intuitively if not rationally, that something was different now. The last time their presence had been so removed was when that Muggle-loving blood-traitor had left Azkaban—and even then, the clarity that came from the absence of Dementors was interspersed with blocks of time that Bellatrix couldn’t remember at all, and didn’t want to remember. Moments when the guards were allowed to show their true fury that one of their prey was gone, moments when the humans weren’t swarming the prison, interrogating the remaining residents, trying to figure out how Sirius Black could leave.

But now, the Dementors were hesitant. They were distant.

They were letting the Dark Lord’s followers go free.

Bellatrix walked out of the prison the same way she entered it: her head high, her steps sure and her purpose plain, clear and unwavering. Ignoring her smug brother-in-law who hadn’t been willing to sacrifice anything for the Dark Lord, Bellatrix looked into the distance, her first glimpse in a dozen years of something that wasn’t marred by bars or stone or Dementor-induced specters of the past.

She soaked in the sight and she smiled.
Title: Easier
Fandom: Harry Potter
Character: Sirius
Word Count: 322
Written for: nothing, I think. Once upon a time, I could write stories just because they were in my head, not just because I'd been prompted.

If he could sleep at nights, it would have been easier for Sirius. But he’d never needed more than a couple hours of rest at the best of times.

And no time after Azkaban could be considered the best of times…

If he wasn’t stuck in Grimmauld Place, it would have been easier for Sirius. But he lay awake at night, listening to the silence, the thick deadness that enveloped everything.

Azkaban was never quiet.

If he didn’t feel so trapped, it would have been easier for Sirius. But he can’t leave. He can’t go outside. He can’t escape to Hogwarts. He can’t run away to James’.

He can feel the walls closing in on him, can hear the house laughing at him for ever thinking he might escape his fate as a Black.

If he could keep his memories straight, it would have been easier for Sirius. But sometimes when he woke up, his hands would automatically reach for a calendar that he’d kept on his bedside table twenty years ago, one that he marked down the days until summer was over and he could return to Hogwarts. Sometimes he woke up, his mind made that he simply couldn’t do this any long and was going to run. James would take him in, he was sure of that. Sometimes he drank to forget but only wound up stumbling across James’ body, frozen in fear and broken along with the rest of Godric’s Hollow.

If he had someone with him, it would have been easier for Sirius. But James was dead. Lily was dead. Hell, his dear mother, father and stupid brother were all dead. Harry was at Hogwarts. Remus was on another mission for the Order. Peter was a traitor. Kreacher had even disappeared again.

If only the night was over. But it wouldn’t end. Keeping the house well lit did nothing stop the darkness from swallowing Sirius.

He was lost.
Title: Even Nectar is Poison
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Sirius/Bellatrix (which means incest)
Word Count: 171
Author's Notes: Written for [profile] 30_hath's challenge of the same name. The theme was back in September, before my computer woes began. This one is dedicated to Zahra, who has been a very lovely computer since I bought her.

Sirius Black was born into a family that gave him anything he could possibly desire from the moment he first suckled at his mother’s breast.

“You are a Black,” Bellatrix would say, echoing the speech her aunt, Sirius’ mother, had been giving even before her firstborn son could understand speech. “Hold your head up high. You have much to be proud of.”

Her kisses were as sweet at the honey they put in their tea when they were still children. Sirius had always received the best things in life, but he still finds that he loses himself in her.

“The Dark Lord will rid us of those filthy Mudbloods and Muggles.” Bellatrix drips poison into his ear. “He will guarantee us our rightful place in the world just as we will guarantee Him His proper place.”

Her tongue is tipped with cyanide. With every taste, Sirius knows he’s falling further and further. He is killing himself, slowly but surely.

Sirius must pick his side, soon, or it will be too late.
Title: Inevitability
Word Count: 210
Pairing: Lily/James
A/N: Well, this was supposed to be for [profile] 30_hath's Jan 19 challenge, but I forgot about it and didn't post it on time. Oops?

Lily's answer was different this time, but this was still, unfortunately, not a reason for James to rejoice.


“Don’t you ever get tired of me saying ‘no’ all the time?” she asked in lieu of simply saying ‘no’, stuffing her books into her bag and trying, desperately, to buckle the thing up even though the seams were almost splitting from being overfilled.

“Don’t you get tired of saying ‘no’ all the time?” James retorted.

“No,” Lily said, before the words caught up with her. She couldn’t hide a wry smile as she added, “Obviously.”

“Then neither do I,” James answered with no small satisfaction.

“Seriously, Potter,” Lily tried again. “Why do you keep on asking me out? Do you honestly think I’ll magically change my mind one of these days?”

James shrugged. “It will happen one of these days. It has to.”

She studied him for a long minute, raising his hopes ever so slightly, before tugging her school bag over her shoulder, running a hand across the nape of her neck so her hair wasn’t caught behind the bag. “No,” she said, and James thought he detected a hint of sadness in her voice, although what that meant, he didn’t have the slightest clue. “No, Potter, it doesn’t.”
Title: Apples
Word Count 184
Characters: Barbossa
Author's Notes: I didn't even attempt to make this 100 words. It was one of those ideas I just couldn't pare down, not if I wanted to do it justice. It was written for the Spoils challenge over at the Black Pearl Yahoogroup.

The apple was soft to the touch, bruised although it had been treated with the utmost care. His crew feared what Barbossa might do to them, curse or no curse, if they did anything to damage his apples. But they had been at sea too long and it was senseless to try to eat anything before the curse was lifted, so the fruit had rotted, slowly spoiling, enticing, untouched.

Still, sometimes Barbossa couldn’t resist temptation any longer and he would sink his teeth into the pulpy skin that gave about as much resistance as air might. In happier times, Barbossa would not have spit out it out again, not unless there were others watching, as much as he would open his mouth and let the flesh fall through his teeth (teeth that were still rotting even more than his once-beautiful apples, in spite of everything else). But now, now he would welcome even the acidulous taste he had once shunned. Anything would be better than the nothing he experienced while cursed.

Despite all this, Barbossa still kept The Pearl stocked with crisp, ripe apples.
Title: Doubts
Author: Trinity Day
Date/Challenge: Oct 29 - give up forever (from [profile] 30_hath)
Character/Pairing: Peter, James
Genre/Warnings (as applicable): None
Rating: G
Word Count:: 200

“Do you ever wonder…”

James hesitates again, which worries Peter almost more than the fact that they’re on their fifth drink (James drinking lager, Peter cider, but with no hint of the ribbing he’d normally get for choosing that drink) and James still can’t form the words to tell Peter just what is bothering him.

“What?” Peter asks.

“Do you ever wonder...” James plays with his coaster, tipping it on the edge then letting it fall. His drink sits on the table, leaving a wet ring on the wood.

“Wonder what?” Peter asks.

Then comes the rush of words that Peter wishes remain unsaid. “Do you ever wonder if it’s worth it? Do you ever wonder if we make a difference? Do you ever wonder if it means anything in the end? Do you ever wonder if it wouldn’t be better if we all just forgot about it, forgot about everything and got on with our own lives?”

And that’s when Peter knows. That’s when Peter knows that if someone as brave as James could have doubts about the war, how could he--how could the dunce, how could weak-willed, tagalong Peter--dream of being bold where James was not.
I should probably say something other than simply posting yet another old drabble, dredged up from the depths of my computer. But I have nothing to say. I've been in a snit for the last four or five days, probably brought on by a combination of the weather and a slight migraine gnawing at the edges of my head.

Title: Hawaii Sun
Word Count: 378
A/N: Written for Prongs over at the SiriusxJames YahooGroups. She asked for something with the
boys in Hawaii, set in the summer.

“So what do you want to do today?” James asked, bouncing himself down on the queen-sized bed that Sirius was currently lying on. When Sirius didn’t answer immediately, James insisted on persisting, listing potential activities and counting them off on his fingers as he went along. “Try surfing? I figure that if Muggles can manage it, so can we, even if we do use a charm to stick us to that board thing. The Muggles won’t notice, I’m sure, so we shouldn’t have to worry about the Secrecy Act. Maybe see if we can find one of these luaus that everyone talks about? Or how about we just spend another nice, relaxing day at the beach, sunbathing while the waves lap up on the shore.”

James automatically ducked the pillow he knew would be thrown in his direction, laughing as Sirius gave him a two-fingered salute.

“Fuck off,” Sirius said succinctly (even if it was still into his pillow) in case James picked up on the sentiment already.

“Come now, Sirius,” James wheedled. “We’re in Hawaii and it’s too gorgeous a summer day to spend indoors.”

“Fuck. Off.” Sirius finally lifted his head for the extra emphasis,
exposing his lobster-red face to James, which only sent the other boy into gales of laughter once again.

“Don’t I get any sympathy?” Sirius pouted.

“You’d be doing the same if it were me who was stupid enough to not wear sunblock and spend the day in the sun. ‘Oh, no,’” James said in a bad imitation of Sirius, “ ‘I don’t need that stuff. I never burn.’ Never burn, is that right?”

“Shut up.” Sirius buried his head again. “And stop mocking me. This is painful. You wouldn’t believe how painful it is.”

“It’s your own fault,” James said mercilessly. “And now I have to suffer. I’m in Hawaii! I want to go out and enjoy the sun! We never see the sun at home. Why do I have to suffer simply because you’re suffering?”

Sirius gave the question due consideration, which really wasn’t much. “I can think of a reason to stay indoors,” he said, trying not to wince as he raised his eyebrows suggestively.

James smiled naughtily. Suddenly spending the day outdoors didn’t look so appealing after all.

Title: Superstition
Word Count: 243
A/N: Written... a long time ago for one of The Black Pearl Sails' drabble challenge. I believe the theme was Gibbs.

Gibbs was a superstitious man. He knew others laughed at him when avoided redheads or poured rum on the decks (it was easier to come by then wine and Gibbs figured that if was good enough for their captain, then it was good enough for any other supernatural beings that might be out there), but Gibbs didn't care; he had fought dead sailors and he knew that the supernatural was real. Superstition was the only way to keep himself alive, some days.

Women on board were bad luck, as everyone knew, but Anamaria had earned her place. (Besides, Jack insisted she stay on.)

Still, on that particular afternoon Gibbs grumbled, "A ship's no place for a woman," as he was wont to do when Anamaria did something particularly daft. She ignored him, as most of the crew did when he started on the subject.

The new man was another story. He openly leered at the only woman on board, which was the first sign of a storm (even those crew members who weren't superstitious, as Gibbs was, took a noticeable step back). "I 'ear the answer to tha' is to get 'er nekkid."

Anamaria punched him. He hit the deck hard, blood streaming out of a nose that was clearly broken. Then she turned to Gibbs, daring him to say something.

"Haven't heard that one before," Gibbs said carefully. "Reckon he was making it up."

Aye, Gibbs was a superstitious man.

Not stupid.
Most of you who read PotC will already have seen this...

Title: Her Mother's Hair
Author: Trinity Day
Word Count: 150
A/N: Those of you who've read it will notice that this has been greatly influenced by the opening scene of Terry Pratchett's "Monstrous Regiment". I skipped out on the bit about binding/lack of binding, though, so I didn't have to feel too badly about it.


Her hair was the hardest thing to do. Elizabeth had always taken unholy pleasure in her hair. She had her mother’s hair, according to her father, one of the only features she’d inherited from her.

If only Jack were here, Elizabeth could have sailed away with him. Other captains weren’t so willing to let women on their ships. Other captains—as well as the entire Royal Navy—would be looking for the governor’s daughter. No one would look twice at John “Jack” Turner, even if he did share the name as the governor’s daughter’s fiancé, the man Elizabeth should have already wed. Instead, Elizabeth spent her wedding day preparing to run off to sea to look for said missing fiancé.

Still, it had to be done. Elizabeth even managed to keep her eyes open while shearing the hair off, her hands only trembling slightly.

“For Will,” she told herself resolutely.

Fic: Green

Jan. 10th, 2005 10:00 pm
First, I must tell everyone who hasn't already read Sluggy Freelance (a comic strip) to go do so right now. Second, I would have had this posted last night (in time for my self-imposed deadline, believe it or not) but then my internet went kablooey.

Title: Green
Word Count: 200
Characters: Regulus, Sirius/Bellatrix
Written for [profile] minor_pairings Drabble Challenge #3

Regulus saw green, sometimes, when he would knock on Sirius’ door early in the morning and his brother would tell him to wait. When Sirius finally stepped into the hallway, carefully closing his door behind him, he’d pretend that modesty was the reason he’d denied Regulus entrance while dressing, but Sirius would always be missing a sock or some other such article of clothing. Its pair would be hopelessly tangled in the sheets, lost during a fury of activity Regulus shouldn’t imagine, but usually did. Invariably there would be a smudge of lipstick in a place Regulus shouldn’t have been looking at in the first place, but often did. Regulus wasn’t supposed to notice any of these details, but always did.

There was no need to wonder who Sirius was hiding in his room, and not just because it was the always same person. Regulus wouldn’t need to wonder, because he would have already knocked on Bellatrix’s room and found it empty.

Regulus saw green, because he knew that no matter how much the two claimed to hate each other, no matter how much of that claim was actually true, Bellatrix and Sirius would always prefer each other to him.
So I went to bed around midnight last night. Turned my light on again at around 1:30. Wrote for an hour. Surfed the net for an hour. Then watched Made in Canada.

Of course, I haven't been able to write anything all day today, which is a problem since I'm supposed to be writing essays today.

On the plus side, I wrote for both HP and PotC. I promise a HP drabble (or drabble-ish) in the next day or two. Today you get this Jack piece.


Title: Love at First Sight
Word Count: 250

It was love at first sight. )