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femslashficlets2019-03-01 10:12 am
ilthit) wrote in femslashficlets2019-03-01 10:12 am
Janelle Monáe lyrics: And Sweet Milky Tea (Discworld)
Title: And Sweet Milky Tea
Fandom: Discworld (Monstrous Regiment)
Characters/Pairings: Polly Perks/Maladict
Rating: PG
Words: 346
Prompt: You better know what you're fighting for
“Why are we doing this again?”
“Because we signed up.”
The answer comes out short, harsh. Sgt Perks has no time for levity when her men and women are fighting the earth itself, as the mudslide pulls on the wheels of their munitions card. Bloody vampires and their bloody powers of flight, which allow them merely to get enticingly moist while the rest of them are covered in shit up to the elbows.
Even Maladict’s gloves have not stayed pristine. She snatches up the end of a rope and puts her shoulder to it. The cart moves, rocks up, inches out of the muddy sink.
And that’s why you keep vampires around.
They make it to the hill at last to relative dryness, every man-jack of them soaked to the bone, but they get that tent up and they dig out the stove and ever since Jade Lotus joined, they’ve never wanted for fire even when every log that have left is falling apart from water. Takes all sorts.
The night won’t be long enough to get dry, even with their uniforms hung out to dry and every soldier buddying up for body heat. Why are they doing this? For a bit of land nobody lives on? For the honour of their country? For freedom?
No, because there are people trapped over in the next forest who will be slaughtered if they don’t go over there and slaughter the enemy instead. Because she won’t watch her country burn, no matter what. Because she signed up.
“You should buddy up with Jade Lotus tonight,” says Mal. Bloody vampire and her bloody concern.
Polly shakes her head. “You’ll have drunk a pot of coffee before bedtime. You’ll be warm enough.”
Mal also knows when to shut up and curl around her back like a slightly musty blanket, her short slick heir tickling the back of Polly’s neck. Her sleep is too exhausted to enjoy it long, but, by Nuggan and all the dead gods, she appreciates it. She does.
Tomorrow will be another wet, grey, measly little fish.
Fandom: Discworld (Monstrous Regiment)
Characters/Pairings: Polly Perks/Maladict
Rating: PG
Words: 346
Prompt: You better know what you're fighting for
“Why are we doing this again?”
“Because we signed up.”
The answer comes out short, harsh. Sgt Perks has no time for levity when her men and women are fighting the earth itself, as the mudslide pulls on the wheels of their munitions card. Bloody vampires and their bloody powers of flight, which allow them merely to get enticingly moist while the rest of them are covered in shit up to the elbows.
Even Maladict’s gloves have not stayed pristine. She snatches up the end of a rope and puts her shoulder to it. The cart moves, rocks up, inches out of the muddy sink.
And that’s why you keep vampires around.
They make it to the hill at last to relative dryness, every man-jack of them soaked to the bone, but they get that tent up and they dig out the stove and ever since Jade Lotus joined, they’ve never wanted for fire even when every log that have left is falling apart from water. Takes all sorts.
The night won’t be long enough to get dry, even with their uniforms hung out to dry and every soldier buddying up for body heat. Why are they doing this? For a bit of land nobody lives on? For the honour of their country? For freedom?
No, because there are people trapped over in the next forest who will be slaughtered if they don’t go over there and slaughter the enemy instead. Because she won’t watch her country burn, no matter what. Because she signed up.
“You should buddy up with Jade Lotus tonight,” says Mal. Bloody vampire and her bloody concern.
Polly shakes her head. “You’ll have drunk a pot of coffee before bedtime. You’ll be warm enough.”
Mal also knows when to shut up and curl around her back like a slightly musty blanket, her short slick heir tickling the back of Polly’s neck. Her sleep is too exhausted to enjoy it long, but, by Nuggan and all the dead gods, she appreciates it. She does.
Tomorrow will be another wet, grey, measly little fish.