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rainbowfic2014-10-28 10:27 pm
bookblather) wrote in rainbowfic2014-10-28 10:27 pm
White 9, Hills of Iowa 6: freedom
Author: Kat
Title: freedom
Story: In the Heart -- Framed AU
Colors: White 9 (white rain), hills of Iowa 6 (Well I love the way the world is your garden and you plant your seeds and you let them grow.)
Supplies and Materials: Eraser (Framed AU), miniature, brush (quixotic), oils ("I had strings, but now I'm free"), chalk (this image), beading wire (this image), glitter (this image), pastels (free), bichromatic
Word Count: 100
Rating: PG
Summary: Lily and Meriel.
Warnings: none.
Notes: This AU isn't all bad. Also, this Lily is not Gina's ex, but Summer's daughter.
Lily dances barefoot, her moon-pale hair half glowing in the sunlight. She looks like a fairy, or a butterfly-- something made of air, the way her lover is made of water. Something bright, against the dark redwoods and the mossy earth beneath her feet.
And Meriel follows her, captivated, captivating in her turn. Her skirt swirls out around her thighs, her brown hands reaching skyward, webbed and un-webbed. The grass and the flowers brush against her calves. Her hair brushes against her back. She can't keep the joy from bubbling up, from filling her, from overflowing.
It feels like freedom.
Title: freedom
Story: In the Heart -- Framed AU
Colors: White 9 (white rain), hills of Iowa 6 (Well I love the way the world is your garden and you plant your seeds and you let them grow.)
Supplies and Materials: Eraser (Framed AU), miniature, brush (quixotic), oils ("I had strings, but now I'm free"), chalk (this image), beading wire (this image), glitter (this image), pastels (free), bichromatic
Word Count: 100
Rating: PG
Summary: Lily and Meriel.
Warnings: none.
Notes: This AU isn't all bad. Also, this Lily is not Gina's ex, but Summer's daughter.
Lily dances barefoot, her moon-pale hair half glowing in the sunlight. She looks like a fairy, or a butterfly-- something made of air, the way her lover is made of water. Something bright, against the dark redwoods and the mossy earth beneath her feet.
And Meriel follows her, captivated, captivating in her turn. Her skirt swirls out around her thighs, her brown hands reaching skyward, webbed and un-webbed. The grass and the flowers brush against her calves. Her hair brushes against her back. She can't keep the joy from bubbling up, from filling her, from overflowing.
It feels like freedom.