snickfic: Gamora profile (mcu)
Took a break from hockey fic today to write a couple of MCU femslash drabbles for [livejournal.com profile] femslash100's latest drabbletag round. This is a lot of fun, fyi - find a femslash prompt, fill it with a fic 100-250 words long, post with two new prompts of your own. Many, many fandoms to choose from!

Anyway, the fics:
Losers and Finders - Gamora/Jane Foster, 100 words
Losers, Peter called their troupe, but Jane isn’t one.

leaven - Gamora/Nebula/Natasha Romanov, 250 words
This is how Gamora meets Nebula again: surrounded by fallen corpse soldiers while some redheaded woman in black looks on.
snickfic: (mood Christmas)
Title: Things Done in the Name of War
Fandoms: BtVS/Potterverse crossover
Characters: Severus Snape, Spike/Buffy
Words / Rating: 2000 words, in drabbles / G
Setting: Vaguely post-NFA, sometime prior to or early into the HP series
Warnings: mpreg

A/N: This is utter crack, y'all, and it is NOT MY FAULT. It is the fault of [livejournal.com profile] diamondtook862 and [livejournal.com profile] ever_neutral, whose Christmas fic it is. First we have the Snape-Spike mpreg baby. WHUT. Then we have the fact that my knowledge of the Potterverse comes from a book and a half, two movies, a fair bit of wildly AU fanfic, and the glory of fannish osmosis. Oh, yeah, and if one is going to write utter crack, then one might as well write it in DRABBLES, amirite? (Also, when one is writing crack: choose a sufficiently pretentious title.)

[livejournal.com profile] bobthemole kindly did an HP canon check on the first half of this, but she should in no way be held responsible for the - did I mention? - utter crack.

Snape has been informed: his time is to be wasted, his skills squandered on people whom Dumbledore has declined to explain, their value indeterminate.  )
snickfic: (River)
Because clearly my entire reason for watching Firefly was so I could write River into weird crossovers, here's one more. Someone over at [livejournal.com profile] fandom_stocking wanted River/Lucas, and even though I can't ship them seriously of course I had to write something, because: River and seaQuest!

Upstaged )
snickfic: (mood Christmas)
Because it's a little late for Christmas, isn't it? This is for [livejournal.com profile] rebcake - happy all the holidays, Reb! This took so long because I had a rather longer piece that just would not be molded into fic shape. But here, finally, are Adelle and Giles at an airport. (Uh, let's just assume it's set during the holidays, shall we?)

Rupert Giles, Adelle DeWitt
A Difference in Perspective )
snickfic: (mood Christmas)
Er. So. This is for [livejournal.com profile] bobthemole. Merry Christmas, Bob! And also happy birthday. This has absolutely no relation to what you asked for - was in fact inspired by your Yuletide letter - but I hope you like it anyway.

Where No One Goes and No One Is )
snickfic: (mood Christmas)
Merry Christmas, [livejournal.com profile] deird1 and [livejournal.com profile] shapinglight! (Deird, yours may ring some distant bells - it's in answer to a prompt you gave me back in, like, March that I never responded to. :p)

Also included is a drabble I wrote for the (Ex-)Housemate as part of her Christmas; I figured you guys wouldn't mind if I posted it, too.

For [livejournal.com profile] deird1: Buffy, Faith
Some Burnt, Some Rebuilt )

For [livejournal.com profile] shapinglight: Spike, Giles, post-"The Gift"
In Many Forms )

For Housemate: Kendra
New Lessons )
snickfic: (mood Christmas)
[livejournal.com profile] angearia couldn't decide if she wanted sweet and functional or dark and dysfunctional, so I decided for her.

Merry Christmas, Emmie!

Buffy/Angelus - R for language
The Echo of Sweet Memory )
snickfic: (mood Christmas)
I had ideas of there being several drabbles today, but it seems to be just the one. Merry Christmas, [livejournal.com profile] seapealsh!

Spike&Joyce, set sometime in the middle of Seraph
That Touch of Classic Elegance )
snickfic: (Faith)
From the Three Sentence Ficathon, for Brutti: Faith, one last job.

I wrote S8 fic, y'all. The end is nigh. This is just post-NFFY. Also, 'tis my first Faith fic, yay! Rated R for her mouth.

Last? )
snickfic: (Spike love's bitch)
I very rarely write futurefic, especially far future, but [livejournal.com profile] penny_lane_42 made a suggestion I couldn't resist.

Auld Lang Syne - Spike

Every so often, it happens. He battles demons, brave warrior he, and suddenly finds some bitty thing meeting him halfway, blocking his kicks and kicking his punches like she was born dancing. Every time he thinks, this is what he lives for.

But it isn’t. Even rarer, the girl looks at him, his face he can’t remember and the hair he still bleaches for just such moments as this, and her eyes widen, and she knows. Usually, she tries to kill him harder; once a feisty brunette kissed him and ran.

He’s still waiting for one that knows his name.
snickfic: (Willow)
Another [livejournal.com profile] still_grrr drabble, this time for the prompt black and/or anxious. I got both. And hey! S3!

Cured Skins of Dead Animals )
snickfic: (Buffy close)
More about Buffy and poetry. This time I've committed actual, honest-to-goodness poemfic, with citations and everything. Woe is me. Written for [livejournal.com profile] still_grrr for the "yellow" prompt.

Figuratively Speaking )
snickfic: (Dawn little scared girl)
Written a long time ago for [livejournal.com profile] penny_lane_42 in the Three Sentence Ficathon; just now expanded to drabble length. Prompt: Dawn, "from shadow to shadow"

Weightless

'Real' doesn't always imply 'solid' and anyway every time she stubs her toes or pinches herself or - just that one time - slides a blade through her skin, it's clear she's solid enough: cavity-free teeth and bones she only remembers having broken. And yet when she palms lipsticks from trays and bracelets from hangers, her confidence isn’t all shoplifters’ high; underneath sits the certainty that she is a little less than visible. Shadow to shadow she slips among the crowding unworrying people, every one of whom walks more heavily than she, all weighted with some essential concreteness she lacks.
snickfic: Spuffy Smashed kissing (Spuffy angst)
For [livejournal.com profile] quinara in the Three Sentence Ficathon.

Through the Looking Glass: Spike/Buffy
PG-13 for language

Through the Looking Glass )
snickfic: (Default)
Title: What She Knew
Character/Pairing: Riley/Dru ('mong others)
Words: a cool 100
A/N: for [livejournal.com profile] that_september's Three-Sentence prompt "Spike/Buffy," "old loves." (There may, ah, have been some creative reinterpretation of the prompt.)

It's addiction and he's still psych major enough to see it, but that’s why he stays in the abandoned hut at jungle’s edge and lets the hostile drain him, ounce by ounce, every nerve ecstatically afire, until the day this woman Sam walks in, shoots his hostile goddess faceless, and saves him.

He loves her now, that’s not in question, and he never loved the vampire whore, neither of which explains why the dark eerie whispers of gallant dark knights lost to electricity and Slayers in dark throes have sent him back to Sunnydale, just to check. Just to see.
snickfic: (Buffy destiny)
Written for the housemate, who stumbled over certain fannish terminology in the introductory note to my Faith/Giles drabble, to amusing effect. It's possible you had to be there. Regardless, the silliest thing I've ever written.

Commercial Enterprise - Buffy, Willy
It took Willy to explain it to her. “It’s like you got a chihuahua, you know?”

“Only, not a dog,” she said, eyeing the card again. Definitely not a dog.

“Grub, actually.”

Eyebrow.

“What, night creatures can’t have pets?”

“So you have a grub...”

“And you want to fancy it up a bit. A coiffure, if you will.”

“With human hair. From corpses.”

“I always say, there’s no accounting for taste.”

“Right.” She turned and slid her stake loose. “Time for a little business negotiation.” She walked out on his splutter, dropping the card as she went.

Pet hairings, indeed.
snickfic: (Faith Giles)
I've been wanting to write Giles/Faith forever, and the [livejournal.com profile] still_grrr "Het Pairings" prompt was a great excuse.

Old Habits
His definition of Faith is bound in coils of cigarette smoke. Its fragrance hangs about her always, reminding him of younger days, the fumes of other fires, and magic more exotic than hers, if less deep.

But she is Slayer, leather-feathered mother hen to thousands, and he is Watcher, who watches more papers than battles now. He’s given over to bureaucratic hazards, his smoking habit discarded with those other youthful idiocies.

Still, he passes her and knows the acrid scent: the whiff of temptation.

It’s when her eyes hold that same smoky invitation that he thinks he might give in.
snickfic: (Topher)
Lookee! Dollhouse fic! No explicit spoilers for DH, but I've put it under a cut anyway.

Unassuming
For [livejournal.com profile] penny_lane_42: Dawn Summers, Topher Brink. Mild would-be shippiness.

Unassuming )
snickfic: (Default)
Leveled
For [livejournal.com profile] cindergal: Xander, Spike

Three weeks after, Xander went to the Fish Tank. The wall-staring and the sobbing and the snot made Anya – healing, thank God – a little frantic. Also, beer: the Harris family anaesthetic of choice. And Buffy was no more absent there than anywhere else. So he went.

But Spike was there, too, wrapped in cigarette haze, cue in hand. Still creepy, toothy, leathered. Evil. But with eyes as empty as Xander felt.

Wordless, soundless, Spike held the other cue out to Xander. And, because the reason Xander’d hated him was dead; because here was a man(/monster/whatever) who understood, he took it.
snickfic: (Lorne)
Survivors
for [livejournal.com profile] lizziebuffy2008: Buffy, Spike (but really, it's all about Lorne)

Spike critiqued the dresses ("What, did the woman grown a fungus?") and Buffy played “Spot the vampire” (because really, what living thing could be that thin?). Plus, snuggle time.

Then Spike stiffened, wandering hands suddenly still. On screen were just more glammed-up starlets and one wacko stunt-costumed in green and horns – oh. “Demon?” Buffy asked.

“Friend,” he whispered. “Before.”

Before the battle. She’d heard those names, living and unliving both – mostly fallen, now. She could guess this one.

She nestled deeper under Spike’s arm. “Looks like he’s having fun.”

“Yeah. Glad of that.” Long, careful sigh. “They’d have been, too.”
snickfic: (Spike Dawn sibs)
This drabble brought to you courtesy of Wikipedia.

Doomed to Repeat
for [livejournal.com profile] bobthemole: Spike, Dawn

Dawn scowled at him over her textbook. “But you lived this stuff.”

“Yeah? Whaddya know about the Belfast Agreement?”

“The what?”

“Happened in your liftetime. When’d they open the Chunnel?”

“Um...”

He snorted. “Bet you don’t even know when Man U’s treble was.”

More scowling. “What’s a treble?”

“Niblet, you’ve got bigger problems than Vietnam.” He slammed the book shut. “Time you learned the events that actually mattered.”

Then it was fouls and pennos and Beckham – she knew Beckham, at least – and no more land wars in Asia.

Just as well. He’d been a bit blissed out that decade anyway.
snickfic: (Default)
Lookee, [livejournal.com profile] angearia! Bodyswap! This, for [livejournal.com profile] gigi_tastic, is the first of my drabble requests. It might be a wee bit cracky...

Opportunity and Motive, Spike and, uh, Angel?

Spike woke up in Angel’s old Sunnydale apartment. Rather, Spike woke up in Angel: in his toes and chest and his hulking oversized shoulders and where the hell had Dawn and Willow sent him to?

Nothing to be done now. They’d get him back.

They’d bloody well better get him back.

So: find blushing little teeny bopper Buffy. Or would that cause a para-whatsit? Better not.

A blooming onion, that’s what he needed. One last taste of deep-fried perfection.

Wait.

He eyed the single chocolate hair on the pillow and started to grin.

Bugger paradox. What he needed was bleach.
snickfic: (anya bunnies)
This wee, belated Xander/Anya drabble is for [livejournal.com profile] amory_vain in the Fall Fandom Free-For-All. Beware the angst. Angst and woe!

Also, Happy Thanksgiving! :)

The Game of Life
Anya, post-"Hell's Bells"

In a jewelry box on her dresser Anya keeps a small blue plastic geometric person. Blue: the person to ride next to her in the small plastic car, to make small pink and blue geometric babies with, to retire at Millionaire Estates with (or to Countryside Acres, because better there with Xander than anywhere else alone, even with money).

The blue person always gets in the car, she notes. Never jumps out again, either. That's why the game isn't actually life, whatever the name.

She returns the plastic person to the rings and clutter, fingers D’Hoffryn’s token, and begins to chant.
snickfic: (Spike Dawn friendless)
For icon text winner [livejournal.com profile] angearia, who requested Anya and Spike bonding, with optional bonus Dawn. Hope you like, hon, though it ended up with less bonding and more angst than I meant.

Toppings
“Vamp in charge here,” argued Spike. “I’ll order.” Because if pizza mattered, then something mattered, even when...

“I have a concussion,” said Anya, “and I’m bruised in many uncomfortable places. I should get to choose.”

“I’m the one taking care of you lot,” said Spike. While the others grieved by killing things. “It's babysitter’s prerogative.”

“You don’t even need to eat.”

“Technicality,” said Spike. “Besides, I’ve got seniority. Barbeque.”

“I’m over eleven hundred years old. Sicilian chicken.”

“I'm as old as the world,” whispered Dawn from the couch. They were the first words she’d spoken since breakfast.

They had pepperoni.
snickfic: (anya bunnies)
Apparently, [livejournal.com profile] penny_lane_42, when I said I had a 'short piece' about Anya, what I really meant was that I had a drabble. Anyway, here 'tis.

I'm not quite sure how I feel about the characterization here; it's definitely not my last word on this facet of Anya's character.

Title stolen from Pixar. Icon not actually appropriate to subject matter.

Up
Anya, circa S4
PG-13 for adult concepts

Up )
snickfic: (Dru)
Title: Abandon Hope (The Mary Quite Contrary Remix)
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character: Drusilla
Word Count: 1000 words | 10 drabbles
Rating: PG (for lyrical gore)
Spoilers: Explicit spoilers through the end of S2, implied spoilers through the end of the series

This is a remix of [livejournal.com profile] aadler's story All Ye Who Enter for [livejournal.com profile] remixredux09. There's a ton of notes coming in a separate post (EDIT: commentary is here), because it took a ton of notes to write this fic, but for now here's the fic itself.

She would plant daisies and when they bloomed she’d squeeze their heads off one by one, as she’d pop the heads of children when Spike made her well again. )
snickfic: (Spike)
Here, finally, is the last of my requested drabbles. (So maybe it's a good thing I only got four requests... *g*)

Made a Lot of Stops
For [livejournal.com profile] seapealsh: Spike&Joyce friendship

The first time, he sobbed his whiskey-sodden heart out. The second time he just scowled sullenly into his cocoa, wishing he had the fangs to eat her with.

But the third time, it came out that this woman with a taste for Nigerian tribal masks and French Modernism had barely been off the continent, had never seen Paris (smelly) or Giza (dry) or Machu Picchu (a bloody long ramble just to commune with rocks, however ‘wise’).

Whereas he had a century of travels to tell, and if she noticed him pausing to leave the corpses out, she didn’t mention it.
snickfic: (ep Dead Things)
Because you know they’d have had this conversation sooner or later, if they’d both been around long enough...

I Win
Xander&Spike

Cut for guys being tasteless )
snickfic: Buffy Dawn weird love is better than no love (Buffy Dawn)
Another drabble, this one not actually for anyone, it just popped into my head. Apparently, once you start thinking in drabbles it's hard to stop... (I'm still thinking on yours, [livejournal.com profile] seapealsh!)

Recipe - Buffy & Dawn

“First you spread the peanut butter.”

She’ll never tell her.

“The tomato sauce goes on top of that.”

She’s... stable, now, besides the door-slamming and the occasional ear-piercing wail -- but she was like that before she found out.

“Then you slice the pickle.”

No point in rocking the boat.

“You need a one-to-one ratio of pickle slices to pepperoni, or it won’t taste right.”

Besides, it’d be cruel.

“Then you just sprinkle the cheese on top and nuke until melted.”

But when the monks made Dawn--

“Ta da! Summers Smorgasbord Pizza.”

--Buffy’s pretty sure they got some things wrong.
snickfic: (OzWill)
And another drabble. Incidentally, I'm still accepting prompts, no strings attached.

Fifth Sense
For [livejournal.com profile] angearia: Oz/Willow

He could smell it on her: the magic. The wolf probably read the whole scent like a fragrant guitar riff, but he couldn’t remember that. Human, all he smelled was the Willow-smell, apples and incense and organic fibers. But in the seconds-long dusk between, he caught the tang of other things, rich and deep, and it was no wonder to him how she could love them. He could distrust that tang, but he couldn’t hate it. What he hated was how it seeped into the Willow-smell until, in the last wolfish moment before dark, he couldn’t find her at all.
snickfic: (Jonathan)
And now I try my hand at slash, sort of, and end up with something that looks... almost shippy? Sort of?

(Also, see my rare-character representative icon!)

Procrastination
For [livejournal.com profile] gabrielleabelle: Larry/Jonathan (ish)

He was shorter than Larry, but then, everyone was shorter than Larry. Still, short, built like he’d wrestle at 103 if he wrestled at all, which he didn’t. Had never been athletic, but Larry was okay with that. (Anyway, since the rumors had started to drift Larry’d gotten a pretty good idea where he stood with the jocks.) Soft brown eyes that saw a lot more than they were seen. A little-lost-boy look that Larry wanted to win him out of. And maybe, maybe gay.

After graduation, Larry thought. Everything done. Then he’d finally nerve up and ask Jonathan out.
snickfic: (ep Something Blue)
So apparently, what with [livejournal.com profile] seasonal_spuffy, Seraph, and the drabble meme, this is my week to spam you all with fic. Clearly, poetry's still on my mind...

And Didn’t Know It
For [livejournal.com profile] phoenixofborg: Spuffy

She didn’t get poetry. She mostly knew a rhyme when she heard one, but only in a very obliging poem could she count feet -- and what kind of demonic poem had five-legged lines?

But Spike took certain savage joy in scrawling on and then shredding innocent scraps of paper. Finally she rescued one from his fingers and read it while he watched, stone, a hollowed-out punk Adonis.

Rhyme, meter. Yep, definitely a poem.

“So,” she said, “this must make you an immortal poet.”

A single startled chuckle; then he kissed her much more thoroughly than she thought the quip deserved.
snickfic: (Default)
Here are the three pieces I wrote for Yuletide:

Not Monster Nor Stranger, for swtalmnd
Fandom: The Graveyard Book, by Neil Gaiman
Words: ~1800
Character: Silas
Rating: PG
Author's Note: A passing familiarity with the story of Philomela would not go amiss, although it's not necessary
He found the woman he was looking for in Mela's All-Knite Knitting Place (or possibly Palace), squeezed between a laundry and a shop that looked as though it would sell crystals and smell faintly of cannabis.


What Became of Marie La Fleur, for Ria
Fandom: Beauty and the Beast (1991 movie)
Words: 800
Characters: Marie La Fleur (one of the blonde triplets) and Belle
Rating: G
Marie was surprised to realize that she didn’t find Gaston nearly so handsome now that he was dead.

Wireless, for emei
Fandom: The Matrix (No plot spoilers)
Words: 100
Character: Trinity
Rating: PG
It’s darker in Zion than she expected.

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