the androgynous keeper of plushfrogs (
crossfortune) wrote in
rainbowfic2015-11-29 11:27 pm
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was it a dream?
Name: Mischa
Story: and as the daylight falls
Colors: spark (I can scream as loud as your last one but I can't claim innocence), warm light (I've no intention of confessing today), elvish green (He fears what you may become.(
Supplies and Styles:
Word Count: 150
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: implied suicide, an apocalypse.
Summary: "But what would I do without you?" "Live, of course." Why is that even a question?
You can't tell him.
notes: needs a color tag for warm light
You dream sometimes, in fragments.
(little fragments of dead dreams. from dead worlds. falling out of the sky upon you)
Mika dies, in the arms of a man with your face, again and again.
(a world without you isn’t worth saving.)
He dies.
(a world without you doesn’t have the right to be saved)
The sky cracks. You wake up screaming.
(that was not you, never you, but-)
Mika curls sleepily against your side, slender and alive.
“Go to sleep,” he says, irritation in his words softened by his sleepy, fond half-smile. It was only a dream, is what Mika says but doesn’t say, and you pull him close.
But what would I do without you?
You don’t realize you’d spoken aloud until Mika pokes you in the ribs, dark eyes intent. “Live, of course.”
Why is that even a question?
You can't tell him.
Story: and as the daylight falls
Colors: spark (I can scream as loud as your last one but I can't claim innocence), warm light (I've no intention of confessing today), elvish green (He fears what you may become.(
Supplies and Styles:
Word Count: 150
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: implied suicide, an apocalypse.
Summary: "But what would I do without you?" "Live, of course." Why is that even a question?
You can't tell him.
notes: needs a color tag for warm light
You dream sometimes, in fragments.
(little fragments of dead dreams. from dead worlds. falling out of the sky upon you)
Mika dies, in the arms of a man with your face, again and again.
(a world without you isn’t worth saving.)
He dies.
(a world without you doesn’t have the right to be saved)
The sky cracks. You wake up screaming.
(that was not you, never you, but-)
Mika curls sleepily against your side, slender and alive.
“Go to sleep,” he says, irritation in his words softened by his sleepy, fond half-smile. It was only a dream, is what Mika says but doesn’t say, and you pull him close.
But what would I do without you?
You don’t realize you’d spoken aloud until Mika pokes you in the ribs, dark eyes intent. “Live, of course.”
Why is that even a question?
You can't tell him.