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.multi-post!: drabbles [House, LotR, M7, SGA, WaT] & icons
Because I am too extravagantly lazy to do two separate posts, drabbles and icons both this time around.
Part I: drabbles! Actually, a lot of them are slightly over 100 words so they are technically not drabbles... My brevity seems to have left me.
Mass disclaimer: Absolutely none of the characters below belong to me.
Warnings: Nothing horrifying or graphic follows. Warning for first-timer in writing House-fic.
House:
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nekosmuse: House & Wilson in a retirement home.
PAST TIMES
Palmdale was a pleasant community, with well-manicured lawns and gardens, “a paradise,” according to the brochure.
“This place is like brain death.” House tapped the balcony railing impatiently. “We should do something fun. Trip the old people on the shuffleboard court.”
“We are the old people.” Wilson said, “and we’re already on notice from the community board.”
“Pfft.” House got stiffly to his feet, more slowly now than in past times, lines in his face deepening with pain Wilson knew he’d never talk about. “Between us, we can do anything – we can rule the world! Or egg someone’s golf cart. Come on.”
And Wilson, as in past times, followed.
LotR:
Forfaramir_boromir: Boromir, Faramir (Denethor POV).
LAIRË
The girls danced, a river of blue dresses and beads, and the men watched, resplendent in fire-gilded breastplates, where they gathered about the fountain of the Court, which glittered with the light of both stars and fire.
He had eyes only for two, one new-grown into his strength, magnificent, tall as the men of Númenor, the other awkward still, pale with worry and much study. He watched as Boromir embraced his brother and kissed him – forehead in greeting, for Boromir had been absent long, and then the mouth.
Faramir’s eyes closed.
And in the shadows Denethor watched, and thought.
M7:
Forribby: Chris/Vin.
EASY, LIKE
Methodical – Ezra’s word for the way Vin did things.Even quick decisions – going after a lynch mob, taking off after a fugitive – seemed like Vin had thought a long time about them, like maybe he could see the future. And in action, in dust and violence, Vin moved through it all unshakeable and calm.
Chris wondered if maybe Vin had seen two of them in the hotel, thin walls, questionable doors and not really private, because there he was, methodical, unbuttoning Chris’s shirt. Effortless, while Chris’s entire body vibrated, too much tension, and it all flowed off Vin, easy, like.
SGA:
Forbornofchaos: McKay/Sheppard, bad dreams & comfort.
RIDING THE MARE
Irritation is Rodney’s default expression. Joy, anger, grief... Rodney has a shade of irritation for each, a spectrum John can interpret.
So he’s lost when Rodney’s awake, muscles quivering, clammy sweat veiling his skin – when it’s fear, the kind that doesn’t give you time to hide it.
“The puddle jumper,” Rodney says. “You didn’t get there this time.”
He turns away, back to John. Rodney has his pride, figures it’s wussy to have nightmares about what could have happened. Only John has them too and it’s a matter of getting used to them.
Or a matter of moving closer in an already-cramped bed, breath in the curve of a neck, being there, not talking.
---
Formardia: McKay/Sheppard, with jealous!Sheppard.
MISDIRECTED
John’s determined that the problem with being the strong, silent type is the silent part. He’s fairly noisy, but it’s misdirection, a way of saying a lot without actually seeming meaningful.
Like when he insults Rodney. There’s something, he supposes, irredeemably fifth-grade when he teases Rodney for being oblivious to the few women who have the delusion they can deal with his abrasiveness for the time it takes to make lame conversation over dinner.
I can deal, he’s saying.
But it all falls on deaf ears: Rodney doesn’t really hear him, only gives him a dirty look and walks away.
---
Fortanzy, who is evil and gave me an idea for a long story: Ronon/Teyla.
FOREST
“The land is kind.”
Her voice came from nowhere. She wore brown leather and no jewelry, invisible in the forest, blending into the trees as effortlessly as he did.
“The Wraith target farmland – easier hunting.” Reflexive warning, to remind himself Atlantis was dangerously exposed. They were, in the forest bordering an Ethosian farm.
“Dark thoughts!” Teyla appeared from behind an oak tree, laughing. “I thought you would be happier, out of the city for a time.”
Ronon snorted and Teyla laughed again.
“Come,” she said, stepping closer, hands cupping his face to guide him down. “Be happy.”
Only Teyla could make it sound an order.
---
Fortwincy: McKay/Sheppard, 'flicker.'
THE QUIET
“You don’t feel even a teensy bit bad?” Rodney asks.
“Nope.” John’s slouching against the bulkhead, coffee mug on one side and Rodney on the other, liking the sunrise and the quiet. “Not an iota of remorse.”
“Shouldn’t you be setting a better example for your subordinates?”
John waves the technicality off into the morning air.
“Elizabeth would say something about the Safety of Atlantis at this point.”
“Elizabeth’s not here.”
Rodney concedes the point and falls silent, and he’s warm next to John, and when John turns to look at him, the sun catches, unexpected flicker of copper, in Rodney’s hair.
WaT:
Forsmeggin_amyk: D/M (ref. to "Off the Tracks").
LA FAMILIA
“Don’t know how they’re going to react,” Danny confesses. Martin’s only met Rafi, Sylvia, and Nickie as the federal agent responsible for sending Rafi back to prison, not as Rafi’s brother’s boyfriend.
“My dad nearly stroked out – hard to top that,” Martin says. Quick grin – he doesn’t regret coming out to his parents; it’s won him freedom from Victor’s oversight, at least.
“You haven’t seen Rafi’s temper.” A shadow of his father’s temper, but still frightening. “Should have brought your gun.”
Martin turns to say something, but Sylvia’s at the door, her smile between welcome and uncertainty.
“Sylvia,” Danny says, “this is Martin.”
Part I: drabbles! Actually, a lot of them are slightly over 100 words so they are technically not drabbles... My brevity seems to have left me.
Mass disclaimer: Absolutely none of the characters below belong to me.
Warnings: Nothing horrifying or graphic follows. Warning for first-timer in writing House-fic.
House:
For
nekosmuse: House & Wilson in a retirement home. PAST TIMES
Palmdale was a pleasant community, with well-manicured lawns and gardens, “a paradise,” according to the brochure.
“This place is like brain death.” House tapped the balcony railing impatiently. “We should do something fun. Trip the old people on the shuffleboard court.”
“We are the old people.” Wilson said, “and we’re already on notice from the community board.”
“Pfft.” House got stiffly to his feet, more slowly now than in past times, lines in his face deepening with pain Wilson knew he’d never talk about. “Between us, we can do anything – we can rule the world! Or egg someone’s golf cart. Come on.”
And Wilson, as in past times, followed.
LotR:
For
faramir_boromir: Boromir, Faramir (Denethor POV). LAIRË
The girls danced, a river of blue dresses and beads, and the men watched, resplendent in fire-gilded breastplates, where they gathered about the fountain of the Court, which glittered with the light of both stars and fire.
He had eyes only for two, one new-grown into his strength, magnificent, tall as the men of Númenor, the other awkward still, pale with worry and much study. He watched as Boromir embraced his brother and kissed him – forehead in greeting, for Boromir had been absent long, and then the mouth.
Faramir’s eyes closed.
And in the shadows Denethor watched, and thought.
M7:
For
ribby: Chris/Vin. EASY, LIKE
Methodical – Ezra’s word for the way Vin did things.Even quick decisions – going after a lynch mob, taking off after a fugitive – seemed like Vin had thought a long time about them, like maybe he could see the future. And in action, in dust and violence, Vin moved through it all unshakeable and calm.
Chris wondered if maybe Vin had seen two of them in the hotel, thin walls, questionable doors and not really private, because there he was, methodical, unbuttoning Chris’s shirt. Effortless, while Chris’s entire body vibrated, too much tension, and it all flowed off Vin, easy, like.
SGA:
For
bornofchaos: McKay/Sheppard, bad dreams & comfort. RIDING THE MARE
Irritation is Rodney’s default expression. Joy, anger, grief... Rodney has a shade of irritation for each, a spectrum John can interpret.
So he’s lost when Rodney’s awake, muscles quivering, clammy sweat veiling his skin – when it’s fear, the kind that doesn’t give you time to hide it.
“The puddle jumper,” Rodney says. “You didn’t get there this time.”
He turns away, back to John. Rodney has his pride, figures it’s wussy to have nightmares about what could have happened. Only John has them too and it’s a matter of getting used to them.
Or a matter of moving closer in an already-cramped bed, breath in the curve of a neck, being there, not talking.
---
For
mardia: McKay/Sheppard, with jealous!Sheppard.MISDIRECTED
John’s determined that the problem with being the strong, silent type is the silent part. He’s fairly noisy, but it’s misdirection, a way of saying a lot without actually seeming meaningful.
Like when he insults Rodney. There’s something, he supposes, irredeemably fifth-grade when he teases Rodney for being oblivious to the few women who have the delusion they can deal with his abrasiveness for the time it takes to make lame conversation over dinner.
I can deal, he’s saying.
But it all falls on deaf ears: Rodney doesn’t really hear him, only gives him a dirty look and walks away.
---
For
tanzy, who is evil and gave me an idea for a long story: Ronon/Teyla. FOREST
“The land is kind.”
Her voice came from nowhere. She wore brown leather and no jewelry, invisible in the forest, blending into the trees as effortlessly as he did.
“The Wraith target farmland – easier hunting.” Reflexive warning, to remind himself Atlantis was dangerously exposed. They were, in the forest bordering an Ethosian farm.
“Dark thoughts!” Teyla appeared from behind an oak tree, laughing. “I thought you would be happier, out of the city for a time.”
Ronon snorted and Teyla laughed again.
“Come,” she said, stepping closer, hands cupping his face to guide him down. “Be happy.”
Only Teyla could make it sound an order.
---
For
twincy: McKay/Sheppard, 'flicker.' THE QUIET
“You don’t feel even a teensy bit bad?” Rodney asks.
“Nope.” John’s slouching against the bulkhead, coffee mug on one side and Rodney on the other, liking the sunrise and the quiet. “Not an iota of remorse.”
“Shouldn’t you be setting a better example for your subordinates?”
John waves the technicality off into the morning air.
“Elizabeth would say something about the Safety of Atlantis at this point.”
“Elizabeth’s not here.”
Rodney concedes the point and falls silent, and he’s warm next to John, and when John turns to look at him, the sun catches, unexpected flicker of copper, in Rodney’s hair.
WaT:
For
smeggin_amyk: D/M (ref. to "Off the Tracks"). LA FAMILIA
“Don’t know how they’re going to react,” Danny confesses. Martin’s only met Rafi, Sylvia, and Nickie as the federal agent responsible for sending Rafi back to prison, not as Rafi’s brother’s boyfriend.
“My dad nearly stroked out – hard to top that,” Martin says. Quick grin – he doesn’t regret coming out to his parents; it’s won him freedom from Victor’s oversight, at least.
“You haven’t seen Rafi’s temper.” A shadow of his father’s temper, but still frightening. “Should have brought your gun.”
Martin turns to say something, but Sylvia’s at the door, her smile between welcome and uncertainty.
“Sylvia,” Danny says, “this is Martin.”