15minuteficlets: This week's word

Sara Jaye-und Verwelkt (

sarajayechan) wrote in

15minuteficlets,
@ 2004-11-07 21:41:00

Current mood:	tired
Current music:	Josh Groban - Vincent

This week's word
Please post a link here to your ficlet, but ficlets in comments are fine as well. If you do write the ficlet on your own page, please put the word behind an lj-cut tag (or hidden in some way), so as not to spoil anyone for the word.

Elegy

(Post a new comment)

christ_chexx_4u
2004-11-07 08:56 pm UTC (link)

Title: Elegy For A Hero
Fandom: Xena, Warrior Princess
Rating: PG (hints of sex).

~*~

There are strong arms pressing Gabrielle into the ground; forceful yet gentle, as they both comfort and provide pleasure. She's imagining it's someone else. He knows this, of course, but he's all too willing to be a substitute.

They put his father in the ground today. And because of that, she thinks that maybe she should be responding, offering him some sort of comfort and pleasure in return, but she doesn't; she can't. So she just lies there, wishing she was with the one that's no longer with them.

She never got the chance to experience this with Joxer. The mere thought of Joxer having sex with anyone has always amused her, as clumsy as he is in every other aspect of life. Meg has tried to insist that this is not the case, but Gabrielle never really wanted to hear the details. Now she wishes she had paid more attention to them, as they're all she has left of him.

Love is a funny thing. She of all people knows this - she's spent nearly her entire life looking for it; and usually in all the wrong places. She had thought that Perdicas was the one, and looking back, she knows that although they never had a chance to explore the possibility of a life together, it never would have worked. She needs someone wild and free, who refuses to be tied down. Because that childhood dream became a fading memory the second she climbed atop Argo behind Xena, wrapped her arms around the older woman's waist, and held on for dear life as they sped across the countryside, watching the world fly by.

She wonders if she loved Joxer. She thinks that maybe, somewhere deep down, she did. But she never acted upon it when she had the chance, because she was afraid of failing. Again. And now she has indeed failed, because she's all out of chances with nothing to show for it.

When she thinks of Perdicas, his face in her mind has become fuzzy. Some days, if she concentrated hard enough, she can make the image sharpen ever so slightly, but for the majority of the time, his memory is as out-of-focus as those of her parents, her sister, and the streets of Potedeia. She wonders how long it will take for Joxer's face to become like that. What does it mean if it does? If it doens't? Does that prove or disprove how deeply her love for him ran? Runs?

She wishes she had all the answers. But nobody does. If they did, what would there be to make life exciting. So she clutches Virgil's forearms and thrusts up against him, hoping his body will somehow fill the hole that's left in her heart.

(Reply to this)

bashipforever
2004-11-07 10:03 pm UTC (link)

Title: One Place
Fandom: Btvs

Title: One Place
Summary: Angel visits the cemetery post The Gift. 15minuteficlet, the word was elegy.
Rated: PG

The man in black blends seamlessly with the pitch dark of the cemetery. He’s not sure if he picked a night with a new moon on purpose or if it just happened that way. He finds her grave by feel more then sight, just as he’s always found her. It doesn’t feel like her though. She was light, life, love and laughter. There is none of that here.

He kneels beside the headstone. He doesn’t want to touch it, doesn’t want to know how cold it is, how cold she is now.

“You’re shaking like a leaf.”

“Cold.”

“Let me get you something.”

He can’t help it. His fingers trace the letters of her name of their own accord. He lays the white roses on the grass and closes his eyes. He doesn’t have any tears to cry, not anymore. They were spent days ago in a hotel along with screams that left his throat raw and his voice hoarse. It doesn’t matter. There’s only one person he has to talk to now.

Her.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for so many things. I’m sorry I left you. I know I told you it was better for you. It was easier for me. It was easier not to loose my soul. It was easier when you weren’t so close that not touching you hurt. It wasn’t better for you. It was better for me. I should have an elegy to read to you,” he chuckled dryly, “but then you wouldn’t know what it was, just pretty words. Pretty words that can’t bring you back, that can’t save you. You’re my forever and now I don’t know how to live without you in the world somewhere. I could face a life without you. I could even face a forever without you, but I can’t face a world where you don’t exist, a world without your smile, without your laugh. “

He wonders only briefly where she is. He knows she jumped into a portal to Hell and the thought of her in Hell cuts through him like a knife. The image of her smile, that particular look that was his alone, comes unbidden to his mind and he knows that it doesn’t matter what she jumped into, there’s only one place she could go. He dips into his pocket and his fingers brush cool metal. He takes the object out and wraps his hand around it. Smoke rises from his skin. He clenches his fist tighter until finally the pain forces him to let go. A glint of silver tumbles to the grass and he looks at his palm. The cross burned there reminds him there is only one place she could go.

He crumbles then, crumbles in a way he can’t in the hotel, a way he can’t with everyone watching. He is their leader, their savior. Leaders don’t stumble and saviors don’t’ fall. There had only been one place in the world he could break down completely, only one place where he didn’t have to be anything but himself and now that place is gone, lying six feet under ground.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

	zilly14 2004-11-09 07:10 pm UTC (link)
	AWww... poor Angel hugs Angel (Reply to this) (Parent)(Thread)

	bashipforever 2004-11-09 07:33 pm UTC (link)
	Hee thanks :) I have the same reaction to him hurting this much. (Reply to this) (Parent)

	marginalia 2004-11-08 12:18 am UTC (link)
	lamentation - tara/oz. 150 words. (Reply to this)

wildmachinery
2004-11-08 12:54 am UTC (link)

Fandom: Firefly
***

They sang at her funeral; Amazing Grace. It didn't feel right, when Mal put some thought to it. Wasn't nothing wretched about Nandi, not as far as he could see. That woman was grace and strength of a sort he hadn't encountered since the late Widow Reynolds, and a damn sight prettier, at that. She certainly hadn't been waiting around for God to sweep her up in his arms and save her, if ever such a thing could happen in this 'verse.

The girls had loved her, though, and he supposed they meant well. Damn thing just didn't make any manner of sense to him. He'd heard it sung at near every civilized funeral he'd ever attended, and he could remember it used to mean something to him. It used to soothe the raw places for him.

Inara said her pretty words over the grave he'd helped to dig. He tried to feel her words, instead of listening proper, but singing and speeches seemed a poor elegy for a fighting woman. "Tough as nails and sweet as whiskey," was what Big Jake always used to say, back on Shadow when Malcolm himself wasn't hardly knee-high to a grasshopper. Come to think of it, Mal's little brother's name had been Jacob. He'd died, crib death, when he was two weeks old; Irene Reynolds had been out branding the new steers later that day, her jaw set hard as iron.

Malcom Reynolds, like his dear departed mother, had never been one to suffer fools; and unlike his mother, he had a weakness for strong, competent women. That second trait always seemed to be getting him into the most persistent sort of trouble. Back on Serenity, he was still raw. The notice of Inara's departure just set him down deeper in his gloom. Wash came to him in the mess hall three days out and squeezed his shoulder. "We'll be here," he said quietly, "Zoe and me, I mean. When you need us." Mal just nodded and kept on cleaning his guns, his back turned. Wash sighed and left.

Zoe showed up while he was sitting at the helm, staring out into nothing. Wash was close on her heels, and locked the door to the bridge behind him. Zoe slipped her arms around him, her chin on his shoulder. "Wash," she murmured, "was a mite worried, Captain. He figures you need us now." Her hair smelled of gunpowder and oranges, and tickled the back of his neck.

Later, he whispered, "I wish I'd never met her." Wash delicately mouthed his neck, his arms wrapped tight around Mal; Zoe kissed like a soldier, and tasted sweet from the sugar of the gum she always stole from Wash. Neither of them asked who he meant.

-end-

(Reply to this) (Thread)

	quatredeathlady 2004-11-10 02:50 pm UTC (link)
	Nice. :D As soon as I saw it was a firefly ficlet I absolutely had to read it. Not enough love for that series out there, as far as I'm concerned. (Reply to this) (Parent)(Thread)

	wildmachinery 2004-11-11 01:26 pm UTC (link)
	Thank you! (I cleaned it up a lot after posting here, though.) Not enough love for that series out there There really isn't. I just don't get it. (Reply to this) (Parent)

	mlewys 2004-11-08 06:22 am UTC (link)
	Daddy's Dead, original (Reply to this)

Mine for this week

cupkeyk
2004-11-08 08:43 am UTC (link)

She sat on his chest, neatly arranging her skirt as she did. She lightly placed her hand upon his collarbone and examined the perfect way his utter joy has been etched unto his face. His eyes cannot reveal his terror. She straightened his tie.

She got up and checked her make-up in a handheld mirror much too large to be efficiently carried around in anything smaller than her handbag. She rationalized this vanity with the fact that she can’t be wasting anytime fiddling around her bag for a compact.

“If I am going to reach into my bag I should always get what I needed,” she would say. That would either be her tiny porcelain derringer, her hyperdemic needles, or her hand mirror.

She didn’t even carry a real gun. Guns are for amateurs. The skill of an assassin is measured by how close they can get to their victims. And this one actually inserts enough cattle lysosome into a person’s cranium to digest his brain. This is a slow, but blissful, process, hence the look of ectacy.

She pulled out the porcelain derringer and shot him once in the heart, or rather where his heart should be if the gun can actually shoot through anything thicker than a couple of sheets of paper. The bullet bounced harmlessly off his suit.

She left her calling card. An elegy is still a poem, it said.

(Reply to this)

	e l e g y cephiedvariable 2004-11-08 05:06 pm UTC (link)
	Title: Era Fandom: Naruto Characters: Team 7 Rating: PG-13 Warning: Language, death, a smidgen of shounen-ai, but only if you're looking for it At the end of an era, they were together again... (Reply to this)

	dgriswold 2004-11-09 03:47 am UTC (link)
	Title: Rest in Peace Fandom: Harry Potter Characters: Dumbledore Rating: PG (Reply to this)

zilly14
2004-11-09 11:40 am UTC (link)

Title: Grief
Fandom: Gargoyles, during "Awakening"
Rating: PG
Word count: 100

The lavender gargoyle returned to Castle Wyvern to find it in flames. He picked up a stone fragment from the ground and saw a brother staring back at him.

His elegy was a thunderous roar that echoed all around. His clan, his Angel of the Night... all dead. They lay scattered, smashed apart by murderers.

How could he go on? The humans he helped protect were gone. His brothers and sisters were dead. And his love...

He bellowed once more before gliding into the night. He would find who did this to his people. And he would have his revenge.

(Reply to this)

acerbus_instar
2004-11-09 03:46 pm UTC (link)

Due to technological difficulties, I am posting this for sayianchild86. This is not mine! It belongs to Ooshii!

Title: Granite Rain
Genre: Dragonball Z
Rating: PG (mild language)

The stone was made out of hard granite. When the rain fell, the droplets slipped and slid all down the front. Each of heaven's tears poured through the name and made it shine. A pair of eyes watched the rain play. She let the hair fall into her face. She let the rain make her cold- just like she would let blood run if only she could be cut. This tombstone was a lot like her.

“somehow i can't bring myself to pity him.”

Goten looked up through the sheets of rain at his mother. Her solemn expression was enough to keep the child mute.

”He was a smart boy. Why did he do such a damn stupid thing…?”

Goten looked down at the sodden earth again. He was cold- the jacket wrapped about him did little to stop the storm from touching his hidden skin.

“He was Gohan, Mother?”

“Hai.”

“Who was Father, Mother?”

The woman's eyes darkened- grew harder even then the granite.

“A bastard.”

Goten shivered.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

	sayianchild86 2004-11-09 03:50 pm UTC (link)
	nee. this is sayianchild86 and i approve this message. (Reply to this) (Parent)

lavode
2004-11-11 05:50 pm UTC (link)

Not even a drabble, but sentimental all the same... let's hope I get better with practice :)

Fandom: Strangers in Paradise
Title: Elegy
Summary: Bambi, issue 36

She is a still life. Two colors dominate: the cooling blood is still bright red except where it's soaked into her clothes and the long hair, and black where her body melts into the deepening shadows, leaned against the wall like something that's broken and been discarded.
If it was a painting it would probably be deeply symbolic, but as it is it just looks wrong - the dumbly staring eyes; the proud ponytail splayed across the floor. No life. No dignity.
Where is the rest of her?

(Reply to this)

	connikins 2004-11-12 03:48 am UTC (link)
	Perhaps not Lillies. Secret Window. PG. (Reply to this)

	odyssea 2004-11-12 07:09 am UTC (link)
	Title: Elegy Rating: PG Fandom: Harry Potter Characters/Pairings: Hermione/Harry, Remus Summary: There is sorrow in joy, and joy in sorrow. Here (Reply to this)

	laurel_crowned 2004-11-12 07:05 pm UTC (link)
	Original type ficlet, kind of weird, slight warning for just a bit of language. (Reply to this)

annjie
2004-11-13 06:13 pm UTC (link)

Rating: PG
Fandom: Harry Potter
Summary: After the war, the difficulties of letting go.

Her grief runs like water

(Reply to this)

	snapes_angel 2004-11-13 10:49 pm UTC (link)
	I can read these over again later for comment but I wanted to know if I managed to come anything close to the challenge. ;-) Elegy. Regards, Liz. (Reply to this)

wordsaremyfaith
2004-11-14 03:44 pm UTC (link)

I'm a little scared about this one, because it's only my second HP fic ever, and my first one was fairly OOC, but I thought I'd post it anyway. Even though I don't really remember details from OotP that well, so it may be a bit off. I took a lot of liberties. Personally, I think the ending sucks, but I didn't really know what to do with it.
Fandom: Harry Potter, as I stated above. Post-OotP
Pairing: allusions to Remus/Sirius, Remus/Ginny friendship
Title: Elegy (because I'm that uncreative)
***

Remus cries himself to sleep every night. He wishes he could write poetry, if only for some form of release.

No one understands, because he hasn't told them. They all think he's crying for the loss of a friend. He's come close to telling Harry once, and he's almost told Molly several times, but something holds him back. He needs to get the sharp pain out of his system before he can let anyone else in.

Ginny writes poetry. It's beautiful, flowing, filling with longing and desire, the kind that comes with teenagehood. It's strange to think that he's jealous of a fifteen-year-old, but he is. She's got a talent, and one he's always wanted. All he has is a cold room, a too-empty bed, and a hard heart.

Maybe he can talk to Ginny.

He pads down the hall in his slippers as the sunlight is just starting to filter in through the window. Her room is open, and she's sitting on the bed, staring at a piece of parchment, the inked end of a quill between her lips. He hates to disturb her writing, but he needs to talk. It's been too long since he's said two words to anyone.

Ginny looks up and sees him in the doorway. “Remus?”

“Hi,” he manages. “What are you writing?”

“A poem.”

“Oh. Can I join you?”

“Of course.” She gestures to the bed. “Come sit.”

He walks over and sits down. “What's going on?” Her voice is filled with concern for her former teacher. Since coming to Grimmauld Place, they've become friends. She confided in him about her crush on Harry and her secret dream of being a writer. Now it's his turn to talk.

“I miss him,” is all Remus says. Ginny takes a good look at him. “I know. We all do. But it's harder for you, isn't it?”

Remus nods slowly.

“Can I ask you something?”

He nods again.

“Were you two… I mean… Please don't think me too forward, but… were you… together?”

She's so perceptive, and he nods for a third time before the tears begin spilling out of his eyes. It's the first time he's let himself cry. Ginny wraps her arms around him and strokes his back. “It's okay to cry, Remus. It'll be okay. I mean… the pain will lessen. It takes time.” He wants to ask how she knows. She's never been through a loss like this. But she's so soothing, and eventually he stops needing to ask.

“Maybe… you could… write a poem about him?” he asks. “I've tried, but I can't write, Ginny. Anyway, it's all too fresh.”

“That would be nice,” she says. “I'll write it tonight. Maybe we could… oh. Well, maybe we could have a little memorial service for him sometime next week.”

Tonight is the full moon, the first one Remus has had to go through alone since Sirius' escape from Azkaban. He doesn't know what he'll do by himself. “Yes. I'd like that.”

“Okay,” Ginny says, still gently stroking his back. “I'll talk to Mom about it.”

“Thank you.” It's soft, almost a breath. “I don't know how I'll… go on…” He gets choked up again, and her arms are there.

“I know.”

(Reply to this)

	Reflection redwolfoz 2004-11-16 02:51 am UTC (link)
	( Reflection ) — original fiction, sequel to Confront (Reply to this)

	gothicmuse 2004-11-19 01:06 am UTC (link)
	Title: Elegy Type: Original Rating: G Words: 411 Click to read (Reply to this)

	lady_smith 2004-11-23 02:17 pm UTC (link)
	Title: The Memory Of Fandom: Conversations With Smith (Matrix) Rating: G Warning: SONGFIC! Well, sort of. It has lyrics in it. And as usual, CWS spoilers. Disclaimer: The Warchowskis own Smith, tanathir owns Gemini, Cole Porter owns "They Can't Take That Away From Me", I own not a damned thing. (Reply to this)

tainted4life
2004-11-25 08:18 pm UTC (link)

Little as she liked being wet, she couldn't help thinking to herself, At least it isn't sunny.

He had been sunny, sunny and cheerful and bright.

She missed him. She hadn't known him well, but she missed him.

But Lart, that bastard... She gritted her teeth, and then, realizing how it would look, relaxed all her muscles.

The rain continued to pound a poor elegy on Ren's coffin, and she wanted to sob with it, sob and strike her fists against Vinsett's chest, and stamp her feet with that drumming, inexorable rhythm.

"And now, with thanks to Blessed Rabidus for the few shining moments that were his life, we consign Ren Falle to the earth, to sleep until Iocus returns," the priest said. "With sorrow and gratefulness, we give him up to rest."

Like hell we give him up, Bellatrix thought. We mourn the loss of his bravery, we fire twenty-one guns and we bust down Andrew Lart's door and we hang the bastard on the Palace lawn. But we do NOT give him to your joke of a god.

And she leaned into Vinsett's fierce, possessive grip on her shoulder as she walked away from the cemetery.

(Reply to this)

	tarma 2005-04-16 02:30 pm UTC (link)
	Title: In Memory of Good Taste Author: Haruka tarma Fandom: Fruits Basket Rated: PG-13 (Reply to this)

Username:		Create an Account Forgot your login or password? Login w/ OpenID
Password:
	Remember Me
	English • Español • Deutsch • Русский…

About

Help

Get Involved

Legal

Store

LJ Labs