regala_electra: (out of context by calendae)
On 10th Day of Reg's Improbable and Ridiculous and Completely Insane Ficathon, [livejournal.com profile] regala_electra gave to thee -

10 Endings to 10 Stories That Never Happened

Fandoms: BtVS, HP, PotC
Rating: R
Spoilers: Noted before each part.
Summary: The title is quite apt.
Author’s Notes: Er. I am a bit unhinged today/tonight/tomorry. Sorry. And some of these are clearly meant to be jokes. Terrible, terrible jokes, while some are serious, and some are wistful. It's a mystery, really.
Feedback: Kthxplz and other random grammatical misspellings.

*

During/Post OotP:

Remus Lupin, Hero )

*
Post PoA:

omg it's fluffy! )

*
Post OotP:

teh angst!!!11one )

*
Post Graduation Day Part II:

a final parting glance )

*

Post Not Fade Away:

despite the odds )

*

Post PotC:

honestly, dry-docked, and true )

*

Post Chosen:

to neverwhere and anywhere )

*

Post Chosen:

the savior himself )

*

Post Chosen:

eulogy )

*

wrapping it all with a neat little bow )

The End.
regala_electra: (plot bunnies by Smurfy)
Five Drabbles Outlining Perfect Happiness
or Reg's Crazy-Ass Experiment


Author: Regala Electra
E-mail: regala_electra@yahoo.com
Rating (overall): R
Fandoms: BtVS, A:tS, PotC, FS, and The O.C.
Author's Notes: Yes, so scribbling 'how to attain perfect happiness' doesn't always mean you are just being sarcastic. Somehow, because I'm insane, I thought it was very logical to do five drabbles (of course they're all a bit longer than 100 words) in several of the fandoms I've written. And I wrote two threesome fics! Rejoice with me, my friends. Rejoice.

Oh and I totally mess around with so many cliches, it's not enough funny, but actually, it then becomes totally funny.

Psst, [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com], there's B/A/S! OMG!!!! *g* And to my fond Farscape buddies, I wrote a Farscape drabble/ficlet too! It's like Christmas, only earlier.

searching for the first taste
Fandom: PotC
Pairing: Jack/Will/Elizabeth
Rating: R
Spoilers: Clearly, set after the movie, sometime in the future

*

Read more... )

*

sometime during the tenth body shot
Fandom: BtVS/A:tS
Pairing: Angel/Buffy/Spike
Rating: R
Spoilers: BtVS S7, A:tS S5

*

Read more... )

*

finding yourself in post-coital bliss
Fandom: The O.C.
Pairings: Ryan/Seth, Seth/Summer
Rating: R
Spoilers: set after events in S1, but no episodes clearly referenced

*

Read more... )

*

broken necks still ringing with the aftereffects
Fandom: A:tS
Pairing: Wesley/Lilah
Rating: R
Spoilers: Set after S5, "Shells"

*

Read more... )

*

waiting for the fairytale to come into focus
Fandom: Farscape
Pairings: John/Aeryn, Chiana/D'Argo
Rating: PG
Spoilers: S4 Finale
Author's Extra Notes: Yes! Miniseries at the end of this year! I shall give myself a Hell Yeah!

*

Read more... )
regala_electra: (a dream by serennau)
Still feeling like crap. I didn't go to classes because I had a case of the dizzies and some nausea, there was just no way that I was going to be able to drive and be active in classes.

My mom declared that this means I'm a diabetic. So she did my blood and it turns out that I was in the middle of the range for normal blood sugar levels. She of course declares that this means I'm a diabetic.

Because my blood sugar level was normal.

Yeah, I love living with crazy people. Makes life interesitng.

I wrote a short little PotC fic in the meantime. Still working on a Cordy ficlet which will be out tomorrow, I swear.

Sea Calm
Author: Regala Electra
E-mail: regala_electra@yahoo.com
Rating: R
Summary: Elizabeth is not a pirate.
Pairings: Will/Elizabeth (minor suggestion of Jack/Elizabeth)
Author's Notes: Story of horizons, dreams, and the sea. God, I can't stop myself from using nautical themes. Blame it on illness. And if it's good, then that's just a bonus.

*

Elizabeth is not a pirate. She is not becoming a pirate. She is sure of this, as sure of the rising sunlight over the horizon.

But she sits perched at the window, relaxing in her cozy, if not large, home, and watches the ocean every morning, the sun breaks over the waters, a wide swath of golden light, the sea glittering like tempting diamonds. She'd never been much for jewelry and after, well, she'll not be wearing a necklace for a long time, if ever.

There is but a ring on her finger, a lovely golden band, and it is worth more than any treasure.

Treasure, no she doesn't think of that either. If she did, she'd be no better than a pirate, and she is not a pirate.

She's met them up close and while some proved to be everything she had once hoped for, she still dreams of Barbossa's cabin, his cackle thrumming in her ears, the sick smell of a feast full of food just turning, and the sight of his rotted skeletal form. And where one skeleton burns in her dreams, more follow, and she sleeps uneasily, dreading the nightmares.

So yes, she's lost her romantic image of piracy.

Staying in Port Royal is the good choice, the safe choice. Will does not ask her if she wants anything else.

They speak of Jack fondly and none too often.

Read more... )

PotC Fic

Jan. 11th, 2004 06:43 pm
regala_electra: (good man by serennau)
So I've decided to write fics that are completely and utterly bizarre. Or pointless and absurd. Or boring. Things like that.

I sat down today to work on O.C. fic and instead I wrote eight pages of my first true PotC fic that's about a character that only has one mention in the entire movie. Daft you say? Well...yes it is.

And I babysat my little sister yesterday and rewatched The Tenth Kingdom and I still laugh at the lame lines and love the awesomeness of Wolf.

But first fic, and later, maybe fic I'm supposed to actually to be working on. And after that, perhaps a light snack.

Good Mary
Author: Regala Electra
E-mail: regala_electra@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A tale of a woman who dreamed of greater things over the sea.
Pairing: William's Mother/Bootstrap Bill
Author's Notes: All we know is that William Turner's mother died in England. This is a possible story of the woman who would have loved Bootstrap Bill, a pirate and a good man.

*

Good Mary, they call her when she passes by the beggars on the street. She offers little food she has to spare, something she herself should squirrel away in the upcoming months, but she's too afeared that someday that may be her own situation.

Her name isn't Mary, although her former employer, the cruel mistress of the house, called her that: Good Mary, always running off to Church. At least, her mistress recounted on a sharp autumn day, she wasn't a Catholic, like some of those hired girls from Ireland.

Her job was lost to an Irish girl; the reason given was the size of her belly. She was dismissed harshly and told she'd do good to never return.

She was married right and true though: her husband married her the very week they met when she told him that he'd naught be trying to undo her petticoats, he'd only laughed and said, "By God, I'm taken with you, love. You've a spirit like the sea."

He was a sailor, so he said with a bit of a sharp grin, and she loved the sea, she'd never been out on the open waters, but snuck sometimes out to watch the coming and goings of the port instead of visiting Church. She'd share bread with homeless young urchins, their eyes wide and too old for their short years.

She saw him working there one day, he'd been a handsome man, young and strong, tanned by hot days and she'd never seen such a fine man.

She did not fall in love with him that day. But he did notice her, his eyes were dark as night and he smiled and she saw a golden tooth in his bright smile.

(There was talk of pirates that year; a talk of their threats growing and it was dangerous for safe passage at sea, though she longed to leave England for the New World. It had grown to the point where she considered doing the indignity of indenturing herself to the growing transportation of wealthy English nobleman and women, who wanted reliable servants for their lavish new homes. But she could not imagine being cramped on those ships with so many others, bound to a destiny unknown over such a great distance. Here at least, she knew her place.)

The next day, she brought a bit of drink with her along with her food. It was a good whisky, and though she was not much inclined to drink, she brought it with her nonetheless.

He surprised her by sitting right next to her, he smiled nicely and his gold tooth glinted in the midday sunlight. "Good day, miss."

"Sir," she stammered, a blush rising to color her cheeks. She looked down; no man had ever dared to address her before.

There was a pause and then he said, in a jolly tone, "Blast, my manner to have swam out to sea! Apologies miss, I'm more seafarer than gentleman, and the sea's not one for niceties. I'm B-Bill," he caught himself for some reason and she turns to look back at him for that, and does not look away, "Bill Turner."

"Margaret Carleton," she answered, her cheeks feeling hot. "Most call me Mary."

"Mary," he replied, as thought doubtful of the name. "No, I do not think it suits you, love."

She laughed softly at that, brushing a loose lock back into place. "Good sir, I hope you're not a right scallywag."

He laughed at that and only said, "I've been called worse. Most folks know me as Bootstrap Bill."

It was strange, but she thought that fitted him, a slim, young man with tanned skin and dark eyes. He was a man of the sea, she could smell his scent mixed in the many aromas of the sea-air and he was suited to it.

Read more... )
regala_electra: (Default)
Which means those Gods will be plenty happy.

http://www.livejournal.com/users/circe_tigana/247866.html

And yes, I know that I'm freakin' crazy. I was born crazy.

Saturday Night Live Skit/PotC Crossover

"So this lass Mango musta been real fine on the eyes for you to give her half yer wealth, eh?"

"...Aye, yes...*she* be different from most... I can get this one meself..."

The beautiful, attractive, not at all vain, Mango strode out onstage, and seeing the near empty room, exclaimed, "What the frick is dis???!!!!"

"Arrr, Mango, it be..."

"Stinky pirate-man," Mango said, slapping his glittery gold pants square on the ass, "I said last time you cannot have of de Mango!"

(If the pirate weren’t so entranced by Mango, he would have noticed the swelling music.)

"Can you sail across a field of dreams? Can you paint the sky in glitter? NO! Such is Mango."

"Actually Mango...I do love ye, but those coins?"

"Ah! You take it all, for you cannot have of de Mango, smelly pirate!"

Edited to Add:

The Curse is lifted! Huzzah! What an incredible ride. So many fantastic drabbles written! So many crossovers! Man, but that was a brilliant challenge.
regala_electra: (kick kiss cry)
http://www.livejournal.com/users/circe_tigana/247866.html

Last time I checked the count was 605. *Mind boggles*

Three more:

Follow the Money

A whore is spared - she spent the coin on jewelry.

The shopkeeper spent it for a carved washing stand with a shining basin.

That shopkeeper paid off a tavern debt.

The tavern owner took pity on a widow and her brood and she told him she'd pray for him. He'd never realize his salvation.

She bought bread and other foodstuffs and still she lost three young ones when disease wrecked the island.

The merchant kept it. He loved gold and if his health hadn't ended his days at sea, he'd have died a pirate.

Instead a pirate ends his life over an obsession for treasure.

*

The O.C./PotC Crossover, Or, Seth Meets a Pirate

"I'll be takin' that coin, mate."

Seth stares at the scowling pirate, in confusion. "Is it Halloween already? And why are you staring at my Pirates of the Caribbean one-of-a-kind replica cursed coin?"

Menacingly waving his sword, the pirate snarls, "That'd be mine, mate."

"Mate? Dude, who says 'mate' anymore? Fine, whatever," he tosses the coin away, waving his hand in a dismissal. "I'll thank you not to break anything on your way out."

Managing to look angry and puzzled, the pirate leaves, and just when Seth gets back to his comic book, Ryan enters his room.

"Um, Seth? Was that just a pirate?"

"A cursed pirate," he admonishes, nodding his head wisely.

*

Anatomy of a Corset

Her bodice is tight. Her breasts ride high and proud, powdered death-white like her face and neck.

The corset is a delight for men to see, an illusion. They grab and maul; she only smiles.

They look at the tight pressed line between her breasts and wonder what secrets lay there.

Lies do.

Her clever, lithe fingers empty their pockets and when she drops fine chains and jewels beneath the corset, their eyes feast on her flesh.

One coin calls beyond the illusion. Her bodice no longer bounds her flesh and her lifeless body is splayed across a street. Her broken fingers are bloody.

She doesn't keep her last stolen treasure.
regala_electra: (truth)
I'm almost at sensory overload from all the excellent drabbles at the 882 Ways to Appease the Heathen Gods.

http://www.livejournal.com/users/circe_tigana/247866.html

And I've written another one.

100 Words Exact this time. PotC/American Gods Crossover.

*

A large grizzled man beckons him (no matter, it's already *calling* for him), one eye shines too bright in the moonlight.

Ragetti waits in the shadows and the man tosses the coin to him.

"They're getting a good feast from you and the others. Good plan, prayers from the damned."

Ragetti moves closer, his flesh fades, the man chuckles. "You know this coin?"

The stranger's smile is wide, a predator - a wolf. "Course I do, my boy."

"Who are you?"

The man points to Ragetti's wooden eye and then to his bright one, " Today's Wednesday, eh? Call me that."
regala_electra: (kick kiss cry)
http://www.livejournal.com/users/circe_tigana/247866.html

These Pirate Drabbles are very cool and I couldn't help but write one:

Dead Men Tell No Tales

A rattle worse than death (there's something worse than death?), a hand of bones, and the boatman requests, "Payment."

You open your dead hand (dead three days, your body buried in Greece, you'd promised you'd return) and there, a coin for eternity.

There's a grin beneath its black cloak (a coffin is pulled open: rotted flesh, your rigor-mortised hand ripped open, bones cracking), and an answer, "Cursed. Unclean. You cannot enter."

You try to hold the coin in your fingers, like your life, it flees.

The boat glides down the river and you know.

(Your corpse stays in Greece, but you, lost spirit, wander the sea, forever to wail one word.)

Damned.

Profile

regala_electra: (Default)
Regala Electra AKA Obraham Linbama's IDK BFF

February 2012

S M T W T F S
   1234
567 891011
12131415 161718
19 202122232425
26272829   

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 23rd, 2017 12:53 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios