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Author: ciaranbochna
Characters: Loki, Odin, The Doctor, OC,
Fandom: Avengers, Doctor Who, some original
Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the world of Doctor Who or the Marvel universe

A/N: Done for various prompts as I burrowed through the comment_fic archive in a quest to maintain some semblance of sanity.

Avengers, Loki, self-portrait (6 words) Mirror

Silver-bladed glass; shadows echoing void.

Any, any, desire (6 words) (any fandom you wish)

Your voice ghosts; my gravity fails.

Any, any, music (6 words) (any fandom)

Play my breath in repeated sorrow.

Avengers movieverse, falling, Loki (+ Odin) (6 words)

“Did you--?”

“Love? Your delusion. Son.”

Any, any, ghostly (100 word drabbles)

The world was drowned in stone.  Light was chased from the earth, from the flush of skin under sun. The wash of stone bled into hearth fires until they were blue, and then white. Shades of grey entrenched the air and breath came slowly. Stopped. Those that reigned before lay down, surrendering their homes to the new heirs. It wasn't the colour that ebbed--it was the heart of the world. The shades of the dead rose, and made each moment their own. They did not remember the sun, the flush of blood under skin.

Ashes to ashes they rule.

Any, Any, and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart - E.E. Cummings (Poetry theme) (Doctor Who, The Doctor (the fifth), original character)

"What is that."

"This is a singular lock." The Doctor spins the origami dragon in his palm. Its head twists up to follow him.

For a moment Rachel sees a glass tower and the shimmer of a dome instead of the dragon.

"What is it once you open it?" Rachel reaches for the dragon, but the Doctor moves away before she can touch it.

"If you hold it long enough it will give you your heart's desire."

"At what price?"

"Aha! Exactly so Rachel." The Doctor opens a box on the library shelf and puts the dragon inside it. The paper wings fold and it yawns, curls up, and seems to sleep.

The Doctor looks back at Rachel, but doesn't appear to see her.

"If what you want most is lost, then it will take you--" The Doctor grins suddenly and grabs Rachel's hand.

"Would you like to see Planet Carnivale? They have the most wonderful masks, created from your alternate-reality selves."

Any, Any, down in the forest dark and deep I offer you eternal sleep - The Poor Little Rich Girl

They all came to her. For five hundred years they stumbled through the trees, falling against her door with the last of their will. Love. Revenge. Power. The came to her for control over their lives. She gave them charms of gold and silver bound with twine she spun herself (pride in one's work, after all). The charms never worked the way they wanted them to. She gave them what they needed. Confidence in themselves, rather than notice from another. A nod of forgiveness in place of revenge. A push here, a nudge there--little enough for each.

There is no path to her house. A cottage wrapped completely in ivy and roses. Those that need her find their way. She is happy at her loom, seeing the world in her weaving. Spinning thread from the possibility between worlds. A choice is a heavy burden and each man, woman and child set their feet to its path of their own free will.

Her forest remains with her, though now she hears the world around her borders. Once, it was so quiet. When she has no more favours to grant them, when they stop searching for her, she follows the trees down.

Follow the roots below the earth to a cave built of time and silence. She will listen to the leaves follow the path toward air. She is not too old to learn, even as she dreams.


( 5 comments — Leave a comment )
Apr. 23rd, 2014 02:46 pm (UTC)

love those! and you!
Apr. 23rd, 2014 10:36 pm (UTC)
...Ah. Well, thank you. Love you too.

Edited at 2014-04-23 10:36 pm (UTC)
Apr. 24th, 2014 06:55 am (UTC)
Lovely and brilliant, just like you. *hugs*
Apr. 24th, 2014 02:51 pm (UTC)
...Thank you. *Hugs*
Apr. 26th, 2014 07:48 pm (UTC)
have I mentioned recently how amazing you are?
( 5 comments — Leave a comment )