delight: (grand prion)
[personal profile] delight posting in [community profile] fiction_drabbles
Finally I am actually posting to this community! -- with stuff I wrote on a tiny pad of paper while working and wrote by hand. What are lunchbreaks for if not posting stories?


Title: city lights
Challenge/Prompt: #53, Darkness
Original Fiction or Fanfiction: Original
Characters/Pairings: Casey and Wilson (mentions of Kevin)
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Kevin, who is only talked about, is [personal profile] distractionary's.
Summary: There are still lights on outside at 3am.

Outside, everything was still alive.

It was different from places she had lived before; Long Island wasn't ever quiet, but it didn't stay awake like this. Coming here wasn't just about security, that he could afford to parent her disease, that he wanted her and not the state's bribe and bounty, that he'd been in foster care too and understood. Not even just his love for birds, she thought as she slipped a Saltine to the conure on her shoulder.

Here, she wasn't alone, even when the skies were dark.

And as the sun rose, she finally fell asleep.



Title: Impromptu
Challenge/Prompt: #46, Mistake
Original Fiction or Fanfiction: Original
Characters/Pairings: Lee (Ryan/Lee)
Rating: G
Warnings: Consensual adult/teenage relationship; one is 16 and the other 28.
Disclaimer: Ryan is also [personal profile] distractionary's.
Summary: Lee's been wrong a lot.

This, she knew, was wrong.

And she'd always been mostly sure of a few things being wrong, and generally been wrong about them: her mother was dead. Wrong. She was delusional. Wrong. Magic wasn't real. Very, very wrong.

But Lee was certain, completely, that where she was right then was wrong. The salamander in her hair hissed silent disapproval as she ignored it to twine her fingers with the older man's, rest her head on his shoulder -- this man who was a professor but not her professor, dignified and intelligent and nothing like those jerks her age --

It may have been wrong, but it was no mistake.



Title: ink & ashes
Challenge/Prompt: #44, Home
Original Fiction or Fanfiction: Original
Characters/Pairings: Nostariel (but actually about her parents)
Rating: G
Warnings: None unless grieving is not your thing.
Disclaimer: I bet you are not surprised to know that the father in question is also [personal profile] distractionary's and all other characters are mine.
Summary: Grief itself can gather dust.

The old house was like a shrine -- or, to be more honest, some of it was. All the places where her father still resided, the places he still allowed himself to be, were well-used, but their old bedroom was the same as it had been, her mother's study untouched, papers and clothing and jewels from decades past still left right where they had been, waiting for that next morning that would never come, for the lady of the house, who was dead, to use them.

She loved her old home, loved her father's land, loved the safety the place provided emotionally -- and she loved her father, but sometimes the way he left everything just so as if that would bring her mother back drove her mad.

Tentatively, Nostariel lifted the fountain pen off her mother's desk, where it had been set down before dinner, fifteen minutes at most before her death, and settled it back in its holder.
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