CrevanFox's Fic

Flight #7
Battlestar Galactica
prompt was Lee/Kara, post series, finally getting to spend time together
written for Fall Fandom Free For All
warning for character death

( Well, frak me )

Original Fic: Equanimity
, by little_missmimi
Remix: Equanimity (The gemini rising Remix)
Firefly
ficlet



It pulls and it pushes.

Even docked as far from the edge of it, River can feel the ocean. She can smell the crisp scent of real air (not recycled, unhygienic and on a breeze, not out of vent) kissed by the sea (pungent).

Like a river returning to the ocean that spawns it, River slips out of the ship, skips and twists over rocks, past people and buildings to the oceans edge.

No one notices her leave, all too concerned with their own little worlds (cheap alternators, studies, money, women).

Too hot sand pushes her forward. Burns at her feet until her toes dip into the edge of cool wet sand, sprayed by the ocean.

The call of the ship (they need her) pulls her back. The needs and wants of a ship full of people calls her home.

With a sigh she turns.

She knows she'll be back.

Rivers always flow to the sea.

Original Fic: Running Mates, by little_missmimi
Remix: Running Mates (The 4th spatial dimension Remix)
SPN
drabble



He runs.

If there's a track team he'll join it, because if he doesn't and the coach notices it's all sorts of unwanted attention.

They have to go unnoticed.

He runs.

The wind and the speed and the freedom are the only times Sam feels normal. He can shut out the world and his thoughts, that never shut up otherwise.

He runs.

Dean watches. He comes to the meets, and races him if there's no one else for Sam to compare himself to (it's one thing to run for pleasure, another thing to run faster than everyone else).

Sam runs, but he can't get away.

Original Fic: Ring (hold infinity in your hand), by amathela
Remix: Ring (The together forever Remix)
BSG
drabble

Chief pulls it out of Boomer's old bird. It's nothing, a slip of metal. It's not even necessary to the inner workings of the ship, not really.

Boomer's Raptor is still in working order. It's just that no one is allowed to fly it.

He spends his empty nights with a blow torch, welding and shaping and smoothing. It has to be perfect.

"It's nothing, just a piece of scrap from a Raptor" he says as he hands over the ring.

Helo looks at him, a question in his eyes.

It's okay. It's not Boomer.

He doesn't say it out loud, but Helo gets it.

Original Fic: Nothing New Under the Sun, by jedibuttercup
Remix: Nothing New Under the Sun (The Zombies ate my brain Remix)
Stargate
drabble

Jonas Quinn isn't really here. Maybe he died fighting alongside SG-1 (that's his favourite), or maybe he never left Kelowna and died when the first Naquadria bomb went off. Maybe he lost his mind, just like his mentor did.

The women he loves is a Goa'uld. The woman he loves is dead. His world is under threat, and Jonas will likely die in the coming fight.

He sleeps in an empty bed, works with the woman who is and is not his lover. Goes back home to an empty bed.

Daniel must be a stronger man than him.

Daniel survived.

Jonas isn't sure he did.

Original Fic: Fade Out, by kindkit
Remix: Fade Out (The meant to be Remix)
Angel
double drabbe


This is how Black men always die.

Every damn movie he watched with his sister and his mom (when they had electricity), the Black guy always bites it in some dead end alley.

What a fucking metaphor.

When his people are fighting for their lives and their homes, they die in abandoned factories, and in burnt out shops.

Blood stains on dirty streets.

Gunn doesn't see any other way out for himself. This is just how things work down here.

When he's in a corner office with his own secretary, wearing Armani and with the collected works of Abbot and Costello (plus a law degree) crammed into his brain, he's as far from those dead end streets as it's humanly possible to get. But he never stops thinking he won't still die on one.

When Gunn thinks about how he's going out, it's always with a weapon in hand, fighting, on the streets he was raised on.

When the time comes, it's just like he knew it would be. Blood splattering on the pavement, washed away like he never was, following the rain into the gutters. Another Black man forgotten before the sun has even risen.

Maybe he was always meant to die like this.

A matter of honour, drabble
prompt for open_on_sunday, prompt:shortest and/or longest
Buffy


"Mine is bigger"

"no, it's longer, longer isn't bigger or better. Mine is wide, that's what counts."

From the other side of the door Xander and Willow looked at each other in confusion.

"Okay, pretty sure they're not talking about what I think they're talking about, right?" Xander looked at Willow for confirmation, "I mean girls don't......"

"Uh, not that I know of" Willow said.

"Faith, Buffy, I think you're both a little old to be playing whose got the bigger sword, now put those away and get out your quarter staffs." said Giles.

The swords scrapped as they went back into their scabbards.

From last to ancient First
Buffy drabble
for open_on_sunday
prompt :calling and/or birds


Every other one in her line was Chosen, Called by beings of unimaginable power. They had a purpose, a cause they were born to.

All but her.

She had been dragged, chained. The sight of her village Elder and other wise men from nearby was a comfort only because she didn't know what they had planned.

The darkness slithered and flew through the air and into her, cold and slick.

When she died she felt... something, pass from her, fly out into the world in search of the next one.

The next Chosen.

The first girl to be called by Gods and not old men.

Like a Shakespearean Tragedy,
Buffy
drabble for open_on_sunday
prompt:dash


A brave vessel, who had no doubt some noble creature in her, Dash'd all to pieces."
-The Tempest. Act I, Scene II.

They'd sent her home in a box.

His baby. His Slayer. Now broken.

She'd never known that he'd loved her like a daughter. He kept to Watcher protocol, to a fault. He'd spent her entire life acting as though she were nothing more than a container for something greater.

It must have been a terrible childhood. To grow up and know only training, duty, and obligation.

She'd been more than he could have ever hoped for.

Sam Zabuto just wished he'd told Kendra that before she'd died.

Watcher's Cup
Drabble
Buffy
prompt was Cup

Faith sat Wesley down in front of the library's lone computer.

"What exactly are we doing?" he inquired, as he tried to stand up again. "We have important thing to do, I hardly think it's appropriate for me to be wasting time-"

"This'll only take a minute" Faith said, as she layed a Slayer-powered hand on his shoulder and shoved him down.

Xander queued up the Youtube video, hit play and stepped back.

From the office Buffy emerged carrying a videocamera.

But Wesley was too horrified by what was onscreen to notice.

"Good God! What are those two girls doing?!?!" He shouted before gagging.