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Writing natter + ficlet (Merlin, Gwen Char Piece)
So, I haven't been writing much lately, and I'm missing it. Mostly. It tends to take over my life for hours on end when I do, so it's a hard thing to love unequivocally, what with the hand pain and the fugue state and the lost hours that were promised to other things.
I'm thinking I need to limit myself, but in a pushy way. To that end, I'm gonna try to write a couple of times a week for at least 30 min, but no longer than an hour. Hopefully, this will be on one of the several WIPs I've got going in my head - Winsync, even ::crosses fingers::
I'm also kinda feeling the need to get the juices flowing again though (apparently). To that end I have a) signed up for this year's apocalyptothon and b) decided to try![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
15_minute_fic on for size.
The first results of which are below the cut.
Title: Token
Fandom/original: Merlin
Characters: Gwen
Rating: Gen
Word count: 220
Disclaimer: Written purely for fun; no profit or harm intended. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners.
It glistened, luminescent unto shining against the sheets. Guinevere brought it to her nose, raised it in shaking hands and breathed it in.
Sweetness danced across her palate, fresh as the morning dew that coated it still, slick with the breath of whatever strange forest gave it birth, and Gwen allowed herself to long – for just a moment – that she was in that wherever too.
Too soon, the morning bells rang. She pulled her gaze away from the rich folds of the petals and out of purple so deep it called to midnight. In her mind, Guinevere could almost see the strange constellations under which it had thrived, could almost feel the warm pulse of that distant sun splayed across her own petals and veins.
She breathed its lushness in a final time and sighed out quietly, a mere whisper of tropic storms and tempest seas. She brought the petals trailing down her arm, a fingertip caress, a ghost washed of all but memory and longing.
Reverently, she tucked the bloom under her pillow and made her bed around its ephemeral folds. She did not pause in the doorway. She did not look back. She did not tear apart her cot and burrow back under her pillow with grasping hands.
She already knew the blossom was gone.
Perhaps Morgana held it again.
~~~~~<@
Now I just need to pump another 15-45 min into something else. Unless posting this counts? Or making my shiny new icon? ::glances at clock:: I kinda thing I'd better let it count...
I'm thinking I need to limit myself, but in a pushy way. To that end, I'm gonna try to write a couple of times a week for at least 30 min, but no longer than an hour. Hopefully, this will be on one of the several WIPs I've got going in my head - Winsync, even ::crosses fingers::
I'm also kinda feeling the need to get the juices flowing again though (apparently). To that end I have a) signed up for this year's apocalyptothon and b) decided to try
15_minute_fic on for size. The first results of which are below the cut.
Title: Token
Fandom/original: Merlin
Characters: Gwen
Rating: Gen
Word count: 220
Disclaimer: Written purely for fun; no profit or harm intended. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners.
It glistened, luminescent unto shining against the sheets. Guinevere brought it to her nose, raised it in shaking hands and breathed it in.
Sweetness danced across her palate, fresh as the morning dew that coated it still, slick with the breath of whatever strange forest gave it birth, and Gwen allowed herself to long – for just a moment – that she was in that wherever too.
Too soon, the morning bells rang. She pulled her gaze away from the rich folds of the petals and out of purple so deep it called to midnight. In her mind, Guinevere could almost see the strange constellations under which it had thrived, could almost feel the warm pulse of that distant sun splayed across her own petals and veins.
She breathed its lushness in a final time and sighed out quietly, a mere whisper of tropic storms and tempest seas. She brought the petals trailing down her arm, a fingertip caress, a ghost washed of all but memory and longing.
Reverently, she tucked the bloom under her pillow and made her bed around its ephemeral folds. She did not pause in the doorway. She did not look back. She did not tear apart her cot and burrow back under her pillow with grasping hands.
She already knew the blossom was gone.
Perhaps Morgana held it again.
~~~~~<@
Now I just need to pump another 15-45 min into something else. Unless posting this counts? Or making my shiny new icon? ::glances at clock:: I kinda thing I'd better let it count...
Ah, Gwen
With the yearning and the holding true and the abandonment and the seeking of self and how it all winds up ending on this path that leads to no place good.
And Gwen...
::aches::
Re: Ah, Gwen
My icon choice was inspired by yours and now... now there's some interesting inspiration going on. I can just imagine Castiel sent to help Arthur, invisibly of course, except it all goes horribly sideways when it turns out Merlin can, of course, see Castiel perfectly well and WTF is Castiel doing hovering around Arthur? Using Magic indiscriminately? Hi-jinx would no doubt ensue.
Cas might even get burned at the stake.
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The word was "token". (I guess I should have said that I was using it for the title.)
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I especially liked this It glistened, luminescent unto shining against the sheets and out of purple so deep it called to midnight.
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This one really felt more like writing a poem than writing a ficlet, so I'm extra-happy you appreciated the imagery.