Nelle

I'd say I don't know where this came from, only I do (so what I really mean is that I'm not entirely sure why I'm posting it). This is me on memories of my life in Poland and too much Miłosz & Herbert (and perpetually on bits of Eliot). This is the bit of me nurtured by my career-Army uncle -- the bit that, in spite of my somewhat pacifistic tendencies, has the utmost respect for anyone who's ever worn a military uniform. (And this is me plagiarising military hymns, abusing wordplay and allusion, and referencing a lot of things I probably don't deserve to, as well as a lot of things that very probably only make sense to myself.)

But this is for everyone we honour on November 11 (or the day after, as the case may be). This is for the men and women I don't remember or think on often enough.

Most of all, this is for Caban and Magik.

( And there are months crueller than April, when soldiers come in a family unit, and they fall: father, then mother, and on it goes, one by one and too young. )

What follows is my first attempt at writing Luna. It's something I wrote a little bit ago, and it belongs in the series of Neville/Luna vignettes I'm trying to put down on paper, but I think it can stand on its own. I'm putting it here in part because I was going through some of my Google docs yesterday and rediscovered it, and... well, I really like it. I'm mostly posting it, however, because I figure doing so might enable me to finish the series. (Also, much as I'm loving all the Doctor Who/Torchwood plot bunnies that keep harassing me (/sarcasm), I need Harry Potter characters back in my head if I'm ever going to turn my bit for hp_holidaygen into something besides a blank document.)

Right. So this is me on Fisher's Mad Girl's Love Song (lyrics from the Sylvia Plath poem of the same title) & too much Nabokov (which probably does not show as much as I'd hope).

title: Mad Girl's Love Song
characters: Luna Lovegood; implied Neville/Luna
rating: PGish
words: <800
spoilers: None too specific, but the setting is taken directly from Deathly Hallows, so if you haven't read that, this is not necessarily going to make sense.

( I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. (I think I made you up inside my head.) )

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Feedback & concrit are, as always, equally appreciated & adored. ♥

So I had [have, really] a writing journal, but I haven't updated it in yonks (that was for you, Jo ♥), and it's really just easier to keep everything here, methinks. Anyway, here there is Severus Snape fic, fic that attacked me this afternoon (no really, attacked; I am totally innocent in all this). Well, actually, Young!Sev began angsting about inside my head before I even finished Deathly Hallows, but then Neville & Luna came along and got me started on something that's turning into an I-don't-even-know-but-possibly-epic series of drabbles/fanmix/thingy. Anyway, I think Luna's talk of nargles, not to mention her general cheeriness, scared Sev off for awhile, but she's gone off somewhere, apparently, and here we are. (No, I have no idea why I'm rambling on like this.)

title: Killed the Things He Loved
( cut for spoilery bits )

On the occasions when I am struck with the desire to make my own icons/headers/banners/what-have-ye, I often make use of lovely things provided by the following people:

( Read more... )

title: Belong
pairing: Lupin/Tonks
rating: G
words: <400
notes: Originally posted to rt_challenge    for the January ficathon; inspired by this prompt (which, incidentally, is a photo I took in Gdansk on New Year's Day 2006).

A drabble of the Remus/Tonks kind. It's rough and again, drabble-esque, and seems... scattered to me; doesn't quite fit together in some places quite right, and I'm not sure if I love or hate that.  But um, yes.  I'm going to stop talking now, before I make it sound so bad no one wants to read it anymore.

(Ah, and do forgive both the canon-raping and the possibly gratuitous mention of Wilde.  Concerning the first, I tried to make it fairly canon [and I think I mostly suceeeded], but I didn't follow it very strictly because... well, I didn't want to.  And as for the latter: well, I love him.  'Nough said.)

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