Self-challenge: Ivy/Rachel FanFiction - "Ivy's Thoughts"
Challenge: 100 sentences, use each word once from the "FanFiction Challenge Words" entry at http://alicewhiting.t83.net/#/myblog/4532876651 - Feel free to steal this challenge.
Fandom: Rachel Morgan (The Hollows) by Kim Harrison - Fist Full Of Charms
Rating: PG-13/T, though Adult Themes are mentioned.
Pairing: Ivy/Rachel
Word Count: 761
[Ivy's POV]
I really hate beginnings of relationships. Unlike middles, you're not sure what's going to happen next. What's really scary, though, are the ends. By then, you know the insides of your partner's head, and you sure as hell know the outsides. Whether you spend hours with them or not, ends are bound to come.You can spend days trying to figure out what exactly it is they want. It could take weeks for them to be fully comfortable around you.Hell, it could take months for them to talk to you again if you mess something up.The worst part, though, is that you'd wait years for them to be ready for you, and that hurts.
Her aura has streaks of red. Her hair is a most rich orange. Doubting that would be like saying the sun in a 1st-grader's picture isn't yellow. Her eyes, a captivating green. Doubting that would be like telling a kindergarten kid that the sky isn't blue.
I don't know what the ever-after is like, but I'll bet it's got some purple in it from all that energy. Maybe some brown. I don't expect it to be a monochromatic black. Certainly it's not white. Perhaps it's a colourless abyss of nothingness. So much for friends telling each other everything.
I have enemies, too, you know. I have lovers. I have family. Although, those in my family are those I'd consider strangers. Except for my teammates. The parents are the strangers. The siblings are the children. I was brought into that shit at birth. It will still be there after my first death.
Every morning I wonder if it's my last sunrise. Every evening I wonder if I'll soon wake to the sunset. The thought of it is too much. But it always feels like there's not enough. It's like a sixth sense. Something that overpowers even her smell. Something that makes me oblivious to every sound. It's something I cannot touch. Something I cannot taste. Though my sight is impeccable, I cannot see what will happen today, tomorrow, or the next day. It leaves me with unknown shapes bouncing around in my head. Not shapes like a triangle. Not shapes like a square. They circle around in my head. They leave sometimes, but they come back every night just like the moon. Just like a star.
Can't she just open her heart? I don't want to buy her some fancy ring with a large diamond. I don't want to club her into submission. I don't want to bury her in my feelings like a spade buries the roots of a plant. I want her to flow into me like water. I want our skin to burn with a passion from the fire in my heart. I want her to feel the earth below us. To taste the air around us. I want her to feel my spirit meshing with hers. I want--
"Ivy, breakfast is ready."
"Isn't it almost time for lunch?"
"At least I'm not offering you dinner."
Food. Drink. The same thing is offered like seasons change to winter. To spring. To summer. To fall. Everything happens in passing. There's a rain cloud over my head. There's a snow storm in my heart. Lightning strikes through me with the excruciating pain of waiting. Thunder claps in my head every time I remember she doesn't want me. I'm broken because of her. She's the only way I can get fixed. I can't see the light. I'm surrounded by the dark. Not a shade, not a bluff, not a--she said something. Who's she on the phone with?
"What? Where? When!? Why? How? If that's all you're going to tell me, I'm going to hang up. And I don't want to hear about this girl you have that's giving you trouble. It's a he? I thought it was a she."
Choices. Can't people just let us live our own life?
"She disappeared from the school."
Another run, probably, just part of our daily work. I just wanted to stay home today.
"It was her birthday?"
Speaking of important days, Christmas is just around the corner. Did we miss Thanksgiving?
"The last thing you heard was that she wanted more independence."
I wonder what she wants to do for New Year this time. It would be nice to know. I really should try harder. Maybe she'd be more open to doing something with me if she knew I just wanted to hang out with her. Oh, well. It's not like my thoughts are going to do me any good.
The End
Fandom: Rachel Morgan (The Hollows) by Kim Harrison - Fist Full Of Charms
Rating: PG-13/T, though Adult Themes are mentioned.
Pairing: Ivy/Rachel
Word Count: 761
[Ivy's POV]
I really hate beginnings of relationships. Unlike middles, you're not sure what's going to happen next. What's really scary, though, are the ends. By then, you know the insides of your partner's head, and you sure as hell know the outsides. Whether you spend hours with them or not, ends are bound to come.You can spend days trying to figure out what exactly it is they want. It could take weeks for them to be fully comfortable around you.Hell, it could take months for them to talk to you again if you mess something up.The worst part, though, is that you'd wait years for them to be ready for you, and that hurts.
Her aura has streaks of red. Her hair is a most rich orange. Doubting that would be like saying the sun in a 1st-grader's picture isn't yellow. Her eyes, a captivating green. Doubting that would be like telling a kindergarten kid that the sky isn't blue.
I don't know what the ever-after is like, but I'll bet it's got some purple in it from all that energy. Maybe some brown. I don't expect it to be a monochromatic black. Certainly it's not white. Perhaps it's a colourless abyss of nothingness. So much for friends telling each other everything.
I have enemies, too, you know. I have lovers. I have family. Although, those in my family are those I'd consider strangers. Except for my teammates. The parents are the strangers. The siblings are the children. I was brought into that shit at birth. It will still be there after my first death.
Every morning I wonder if it's my last sunrise. Every evening I wonder if I'll soon wake to the sunset. The thought of it is too much. But it always feels like there's not enough. It's like a sixth sense. Something that overpowers even her smell. Something that makes me oblivious to every sound. It's something I cannot touch. Something I cannot taste. Though my sight is impeccable, I cannot see what will happen today, tomorrow, or the next day. It leaves me with unknown shapes bouncing around in my head. Not shapes like a triangle. Not shapes like a square. They circle around in my head. They leave sometimes, but they come back every night just like the moon. Just like a star.
Can't she just open her heart? I don't want to buy her some fancy ring with a large diamond. I don't want to club her into submission. I don't want to bury her in my feelings like a spade buries the roots of a plant. I want her to flow into me like water. I want our skin to burn with a passion from the fire in my heart. I want her to feel the earth below us. To taste the air around us. I want her to feel my spirit meshing with hers. I want--
"Ivy, breakfast is ready."
"Isn't it almost time for lunch?"
"At least I'm not offering you dinner."
Food. Drink. The same thing is offered like seasons change to winter. To spring. To summer. To fall. Everything happens in passing. There's a rain cloud over my head. There's a snow storm in my heart. Lightning strikes through me with the excruciating pain of waiting. Thunder claps in my head every time I remember she doesn't want me. I'm broken because of her. She's the only way I can get fixed. I can't see the light. I'm surrounded by the dark. Not a shade, not a bluff, not a--she said something. Who's she on the phone with?
"What? Where? When!? Why? How? If that's all you're going to tell me, I'm going to hang up. And I don't want to hear about this girl you have that's giving you trouble. It's a he? I thought it was a she."
Choices. Can't people just let us live our own life?
"She disappeared from the school."
Another run, probably, just part of our daily work. I just wanted to stay home today.
"It was her birthday?"
Speaking of important days, Christmas is just around the corner. Did we miss Thanksgiving?
"The last thing you heard was that she wanted more independence."
I wonder what she wants to do for New Year this time. It would be nice to know. I really should try harder. Maybe she'd be more open to doing something with me if she knew I just wanted to hang out with her. Oh, well. It's not like my thoughts are going to do me any good.
The End