Fics, Memes, and Drabbles

[wightknight]

A collection of all the writing I've done for my characters over the years in memes.  Also a place to request a fic.  Respond wih one of your characters, one of mine, and a one-sentence or one-word prompt and I'll write a short fic.

Fics by Character
Lucas | Mother 3 (9)
Yuki Nagato | The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya (4)
Susan Sto Helit | Discworld (17)
Grimsley | Pokemon (3)
Beast Boy | Teen Titans (1)
Ivan | Golden Sun (1)
Palom | Final Fantasy IV (1)
Miscellaneous | Characters Never/No Longer Played (2)

Comments

Lucas/Holland | Bicycle

[a_gentle_boy]

“Just like this?” His face is creased in a frown of concentration as he swings a leg over the seat of the bicycle. There had never been anything like this back home before the invasion. And afterwards, he’d been too busy to invest much time in learning about strange technologies. The boy hops and tilts precariously before he manages a stable position, standing ramrod straight on tiptoes with the bike clenched between his legs. …It was a bit pinching.

He watches as the stoic man nods. He’s thankful that Holland hasn’t betrayed any of the amusement he must have felt at watching him wobbling back and forth; it was embarrassing enough that he was learning to do this at such an age.

“Mm. Like that.” To his surprise, the man bends down and begins to tug at his left foot. “Up.”

Up onto the left pedal. He can manage that well enough; it’s just a matter of exerting enough force on the bike in the opposite direction to keep it standing upright. A quick upwards jerk following a deep breath and he’s done it. He glances up for approval, a shy, self-conscious smile on his face.

The man nods again before moving to his other side. His smile falters. …The moment he lifts his right foot, he tilts to the left and keels over in a tangle of plastic and metal.

--------

…By the time he’s worked out the basics two and a half hours later, he’s cast Lifeup on himself a half dozen times and exerted almost an equivalent amount of PSI on the Netherlands, who had, at last count, had every one of his toes crushed with the exception of the left pinky toe. Nonetheless, the man had bravely soldiered on until this juncture, at which point Lucas could truthfully proclaim that he could ride a bike. …For about five seconds. Progress was progress.

Returning up the slope from his latest run-in with an oak tree, he yawns softly and asks with a hint of pleading in his tone. “Do you think, Mr. Netherlands, that it’s time to go home now?” The request is received in silence, followed by a short nod.

“.....You did good.”

Down the road back home. He walks the bicycle alongside Holland on the road; the next time he’s roused to attention, the wind is in his hair and his arms are wrapped around a warm body. The man on the bicycle senses his movements, turns back and makes a sound vaguely like a shush. He takes this for what it is meant to be and rests his head again against the man’s broad back. Within a few moments, he dozes off.

Down the road back home, and the man slows his pedaling to savor the moment as long as he can. A hint of a smile pulls upwards at his lips.