Saw this at rushlight75's LJ, and thought it was interesting.
Write a snippet, drabble or ficlet based on your current default icon. No changing it! The one that's default as you read this. Just write it as it comes; no beta-reading or mulling over. Any fandom or no fandom at all, doesn't even have to match the fandom of your icon, just the general theme/feel/caption/etc of it.
Since I've already written one for the default icon and I like this idea so much, I decided to go through my other icons
EMPTY
He felt so cold. Alone and cold.
He pressed his hand against the chilling concrete floor. Raising his head, he looked out the arched window, the glass having long since been broken and scattered around him and without the fragile barrier between him and the outside, the cold wind flew in with great gusts. He could feel his hair moving in the constant breeze.
But his coldness didn't stem from outside. It was more like a chill that came from deep within his bones. Like ice had settled inside his bone marrow and was melting inside of him.
He looked away from the tempting window when warmth suddenly flooded the room and the glass shards around him and in his flesh were pieced together and replaced itself in the arched window.
The other man moved towards him, black robes billowing around his feet without any help from the wind. The dark haired man knelt down in front of him. Crow black eyes pierced his own emerald greens. He scowled when he felt deft fingers going through his mind and a whispered spell that healed his wounds. He sighed and looked away. The connection was broken. The older man reached out to him and jerked him forward into the powerful chest.
He settled down with a quiet sigh, his head tucked under a soft jaw. Lank hair brushed his wet cheeks when the other man bowed his head to tuck him further into the larger body.
"Stop doing this to yourself." The deep voice finally spoke up, his voice like silk the way it slid across the younger man's skin, cool and smooth.
"It's empty up here." His own voice was quiet and hoarse from disuse.
"Insolent brat. No, it is not. You have me, so stop this nonsense." He had to admit that the other man was right. "Now come downstairs. The dungeons are warm with fire." The man's voice softened as he continued. "It's enough to thaw what you believe to be inside of you."
They stood up together, the man's arm wrapped around his waist possessively. The halls were empty as they walked together, close, down to their chambers. No childish laughter greeted them behind the numerous classroom doors they passed. The school was nearly empty and the east wing was crumbling. But they were safe.
The thawing could take place tonight and then the school would be fixed by the remaining occupants that huddled in the Great Hall, what little of the professors and students remained, to fit their image of home. Then the people would come and the school would no longer be empty. And his insides, from his heart to his cold bones, would be filled and heated by the other man. But first he had to willingly thaw before any healing could be done to cure him of his emptiness.
And all the while a whisper inside his head continued to repeat one question. The voice was familiar and sounded like a snake hissing angrily. "So what does it feel like to be the hero of the world?" Empty and cold. That's what it felt like. But he had someone who loved him and because of it, perhaps he would not turn down the path that his greatest enemy had.
End.