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Okay, I wanted to write but didn't really have anything to write about, so I went ahead and joined 15_minute_fic.

I wrote one about Fullmetal Alchemist and decided to post it here, since thinking of a subject to write about was the whole point. Please keep in mind that this is the first writing I've done in a VERY long time, and I had to jam it into 15 (okay, more like 17) minutes, and nobody's forcing you to click on the LJ cut.

Title: Untitled1
Fandom/original: Fullmetal Alchemist
Characters: Winry, and the people in her head
Rating: G
Warnings: Giant spoilers for Fullmetal Alchemist
Word count: 490

This week's theme was: "Eldest"

Winry flopped over onto her stomach on that midsummer night and glanced out the window. The sky was aglow with stars. Mysterious, mysterious stars. She couldn't sleep. It was too warm. She felt pretty depressed, too. All because of Ed and Al. Maybe the stars would help.

She got up and left the house, still wearing her work clothes from earlier that evening. She didn't feel entirely present, as though she was a ghost walking through the same rooms she'd been through long ago and would continue to walk forever.

That was not true. Winry was very much alive. She opened the door to the outside and walked out quietly.

Outside, the air was not nearly as stuffy as it had been in the house. She walked away from the house a little and sprawled on the ground to look at the sky above. All those stars…each of them was somehow different, just like her two best friends had been. And now they'd never be back in this world to lie under this sky again.

Somehow, she knew, their hearts beat elsewhere. She could even feel those heartbeats. Maybe they were perfectly synchronized with her own, and feeling her heartbeat was exactly the same as being with one of them.

About four stars formed the vague shape of an "S." S for Selfish. There was a certain unreal joy in knowing that her friends had finally reached their destination. That was the real perplexing issue: Winry knew that even though they had reached a goal once thought impossible, she could not help but wish that they would come back.

A warm breeze wafted through the area. Winry wondered briefly if the same breeze was felt in their world or if different breezes happened at different times. She wanted a way to hold onto them forever, to feel their lives even though they couldn't exactly talk. The ghosts of their childhoods scampered all around the yard.

Memories…those are a way to hold on to friends. They're not the same as having friends there, of course. It suddenly occurred to Winry that for all she knew, Ed and Al could have died by now. But a death doesn't mean a cease in existence, does it? Lots of things exist in the mind which don't exist outside, like "love." Why can't imagined people be said to exist, even after they're dead? Isn't that what a spirit is? Isn't that what one would attempt to bind to a body by alchemy, even once that body was dead?

Had she thought up two Eds and Als, ones who actually exist and ones she could only imagine?

Winry folded her arms above her head and continued to stare into outer space.

No. Ed and Al were who they were. And as long as she remembered them, and wondered about them without ever knowing how they turned out, their souls would be strung together like wind chimes.

I know, somehow that one word related to that whole weird fic...makesnosense. I think that actually, I've had a plotbunny like this for a while.

Title: Flotation Device*
Author: chaoticlivi
Fandom: Discworld, "Castaway" crossed in
Character: DEATH
Warning: Death. Sharks. Well, only one shark, really. "Castaway" spoilers.
Prompt: #1 Flotation Device
Word Count: 603

*I'm so original.

This is my first fanfiction for this character and I'm also new at this prompt thing, so I'd appreciate constructive criticism. I'll help you guys out if you write fanfics for things I actually know about. ^^;

The one and only time the creature would ever lie still…sharks have to keep moving or they'll suffocate. 

Admittedly, it had not yet lost consciousness. Its death of old age was nigh, it knew, even though it didn't have the capacity to shape the words in its head. Even sharks have dawning moments of realization.

If a shark ever had regrets, it's that he probably couldn't fit in one last meal before going. He could still feel the lump of the meal he'd eaten earlier in his stomach. Admittedly, it hadn't been the best, but it's bad to waste food, or anything else that didn't kill you first. 

As this all happened in less time than it took you to read it, today was a slow day for DEATH. Not needing to rush anywhere, he found his faithful white steed whisking him out to an obscure ocean to reap the soul of a creature whose death few, even DEATH himself, paid attention to. Binky seemed to prefer hanging out on the shore munching a few oats. He wasn't much of a squeamish horse, really, but you can only watch your master reap so many souls before you'd frankly rather have dinner and ignore the whole process.

The shark's expression didn't change when it saw its end. Its white, wispy soul left its body easily, perhaps suddenly realizing it was tired of eating, eating, mating, eating, fighting, eating, mating, eating, and eating. DEATH turned away, but there was a second soul dying inside the belly of the shark…? A quick flick of the scythe took care of it. This soul was much more faded than the shark's, extremely thin and barely visible even to DEATH's keen eye. He was able to make out an almost perfectly spherical shape, wrapped in odd pieces of material. A ball. It had a dark imprint in the middle of it, like a handprint or perhaps a flame. To reap a soul like this was rare, for it was an inanimate object so strongly personified that it had grown nearly a complete soul. Just as humans had personified DEATH, so at least one had personified the soul of this ball. It occurred to DEATH that many living creatures take their sporting activities more seriously than is healthy for them. 

He noticed a wailing human sound. How odd that a human voice should be somewhere this far out to sea and wasn't closer to separation from its body. DEATH distinctly noticed the conflicted life force within the human and paused to watch, only for a second. None of the few hourglasses in his pocket were labeled for this human, though he did notice one labeled WILSON which he had assumed was a person before reaping the soul of a ball (a volleyball, to be technical).

DEATH thought composedly that, had he possessed any glands, neurons, or chemicals, the cacophony the person generated would have sounded funny if it hadn't been so sad. For someone with emotions, that is. 

The human cried out to the sea. "Wilsooooon! Wilson, oh Wilson…" and tears streamed down his face and he curled up on the little raft supporting him and kept fidgeting, completely and entirely unable to keep still or be content. He looked like so many people DEATH had seen before, refusing to accept the truth…

Meanwhile, the shape of the horizon suggested this could not possibly be the Discworld. DEATH returned thoughtfully to his horse, highly curious about why he had leapt a dimension or two (it seemed). Could there be some sort of incongruity in the universe…? Was it forming a personality? 

Meanwhile, Wilson was reincarnated somewhere in Kentucky as someone's adorable pet rock.

Just wanted to post those.

By the way, these were really posted on January 11, 2008 and 12:42 in the morning. LJ just won't let me change the date of a non personal journal.


More fun than a root canal!

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