Discover Top Posts Tagged with #firefly ficlet

Warm light spilled out of the galley, the various conversations of Serenity's crew filling the air.

"Ok, but no," Wash said, scraping rice onto his plate before blindly passing the dish to his wife. "How, in the ever loving hell, did your nephew manage to block the fuel back-up line? It's supposed to be impossible in the Wrix engines!"

"I'm telling ya! My uncle took the whole thing apart and he still ain't sure. The line managed to tie itself in knots - "

"Please tell me you have pictures, I need to see this - "

"This is one hell of a feast, Shepherd. Thank you," Zoë said and Book smiled, inclining his head.

"I should be thanking you for getting me the produce."

"Gave me an excuse to get off the ship," Jayne interrupted, spearing a baby potato with his knife. At the other end of the table, Simon made a face and River laughed, stealing a piece of meat off her brother's plate when he wasn't looking.

Smiling slightly, Mal caught Inara's eye and for a second, it felt as if time had stopped, neither of them willing to look away first.

A loud burst of laughter made them start. Inara's eyes dropped down to her plate while the captain turned to look at the rest of his crew.

All of them were laughing and talking, their faces bright, the clinking of cutlery mixing perfectly with the soft rumbling of the ship's engine.

Clearing his throat, Mal lifted his cup, his eyes soft.

"To Serenity," he said.

The table quietened as they all scrambled to lift their own.

"To a new year," Book added.

"To family," River whispered.

"To family," everyone echoed and took a sip.

Conversation slowly trickled back in and Mal leaned back in his chair, contentment burning bright in his chest.

Sure, the Alliance were still on their tail and money was tight while jobs were scarce but at least they were still flying. It wasn't much but it was enough.

In every universe, Shepherd Book was destined to be the first one of the crew to die.

It had been a long time since Death had seen someone of his kind. Taking a book down, skeletal hands ran over the leather cover, carefully cracking it open to a page near the back.

The specter watched as the man was shot, as he sacrificed himself, as he was sacrificed by design over and over again.

Pulling down another book, blazing blue eyes saw the dead, dead, dying shepherd choke on his own breath or blood or the million mistakes and choices he'd made back then and made even now.

An infinite number of universes, an infinite amount of deaths. What a shame.

Death quietly put the books back on the ever growing shelf and pulled a timer out of the folds of His robes.

It was almost time.

As soon as the last few grains of sand fell to the bottom of the lifetimer and Death greeted Book like the old friends they were, a new book appeared, it's red cover welcomed amongst the wall of red already in Death's study.

" - and I have the new IVT-9A," the man in an ill-fitting suit boasted, putting his feet on the table. Swooping a hand through the air, he grinned. "Smoothest ride you've ever had let me tell you."

The small crowd that had gathered around him oohed accordingly, a few looking more than envious. Jack grinned and took a sip of beer

"That ain't true," someone said and he spat it out, narrowly avoiding dribbling on his own tie. The crowd parted slightly and a young girl looked at him, her head cocked.

"What you said, girl?"

She huffed. "I said, that ain't true. You said you had Blue Sun Corp couplings and a IVT-9A engine. Everyone knows the two don't mix and more often than not you end up buckin' like a bronco during an earthquake." The girl shrugged. "Just 'cause both of 'em are new don't mean they work together."

Jack grit his teeth and abruptly stood before striding out of the bar, his face a bright red.

The crowd dispersed amid laughs and grumbles, the lull returning. The man sitting next to the girl grinned proudly, gently ruffling her hair. "You tell 'im, Kaylee."

#firefly #serenity #browncoats #space western #browncoats unite #sci fi #firefly fanfiction #kaylee frye #her <3 #browncoat for life #firefly serenity #firefly 2002 #yeehawgust #yeehawgust 2025 #yeehawgust day 6 #fluff #kaylee knows her ships and engines #firefly ficlet

Sometimes, on the good nights, when Mal closed his eyes, he could remember the longhorn skull that had hung next to the door back on Shadow, anything from two to four coats slung over its horns. A trophy and a glorified coat stand.

He remembered how they got it, his ma's hands carefully guiding his to hold the gun, flicking the back of his head until he got the message to put his eye to the scope. The smell of the dewy field filling his nose, the long grass clinging uncomfortably to his legs and feet...

But on the bad nights?

On the bad nights he remembered the blood, tacky and warm on his cool skin, already flaking off at his temples where it had dried. The look in the cow's eyes as it gave one last soft low before going quiet, a single bullet hole in its head.

Mal didn't like remembering on those nights.

#firefly #serenity #browncoats #space western #browncoats unite #sci fi #firefly fanfiction #malcolm reynolds #angst #yeehawgust #yeehawgust 2025 #yeehawgust day 4 #browncoat for life #firefly 2002 #firefly serenity #firefly ficlet

Loud groans erupted around the Faro table as the banker flipped the last card over.

"Nine's losin', King's winnin'," Boone said, adding all the credits to a single pile. With an easy-going smile Mal reaped the pile closer, taking a sip of beer.

"Anyone up for another round?"

The man who sat next to him shook his head and stood, stretching.

"I don't know 'bout y'all but I know when I've been beat." He clapped Mal's shoulder before nodding to the bar. "This round's on me, y'all game?"

Mutters and enthusiastic nods followed the sound of chairs scraping back on wood floors. As they left, Mal swept his winnings into a canvas bag and made to stand only to stop when a hand came to rest on his shoulder, hard.

"Mind if we talk for a bit?" Boone asked. The fingers on Mal's shoulder tightened painfully, the short nails digging into his skin through his coat. They both knew it wasn't a polite request.

Settling back into his chair, Mal gave the banker a light grin, quietly slipping the credits into his pocket unnoticed. "What can I do for you?"

Boone regarded him from behind his glasses, his eyes narrowed and his jaw tense.

"I know you were cheatin'," he finally ground out. Mal put a hand to his chest, shocked.

"Now what makes you think that - "

Without warning, Boone leaned across the table and caught Mal's wrist, pulling it until it was between them. A thin, almost invisible, thread was wrapped around Mal's middle finger, glinting in the low light of the bar.

Mal stared at the string in faux surprise.

"Huh. Didn't even know that was there. Hey, do you think that Barnum guy looked suspicious - "

The rest of his sentence was cut off as Boone's fist connected with Mal's face.

It didn't take long for things to escalate after that.

Mal laid on the floor, dazedly watching as Jayne threw Boone down on the makeshift Faro table, the wood giving way with a crack.

At the far corner of the bar a shout rose up and another fight started, soon turning into an all out brawl. It never did take long.

Gingerly pushing himself upright, Mal shook his head, distantly aware that his cheek was throbbing.

Deftly avoiding a thrown chair, Zoë came to stand in front of Mal, her expression wry.

"I thought you said this was just gonna be a relaxin' day off, sir," she said, taking his arm to haul him up.

"He cheated first!" Mal exclaimed petulantly, jabbing a thumb at the motionless Faro dealer behind him. "Ain't my fault he decided to use a rigged deck!"

A crash made both of them look up, Jayne sprawled against a drinks cabinet.

"Mind helping me out here?" Jayne yelled, ducking a punch. Grabbing blindly at the inside of the cabinet, he took the first bottle he found and smashed it against the side of his attacker's head. Amber liquid seeped between the floorboards as the guy hit the ground and Jayne mournfully stared down at the shattered bottle in his hand.

"Gorram it," he whined, "I could'a drunk that!"

Grumbling, he gave the body a kick before diving back into the fray.

Mal and Zoë shared a look.

"It's still a day off," Mal said with a shrug.

"You know Wash is gonna be upset he didn't get to 'boot scootin' boogie'."

"Yeah, well, if it bothers him that much, tell him he can choose the bar next time."

#firefly #serenity #browncoats #space western #browncoats unite #sci fi #firefly fanfiction #malcolm reynolds #zoe washburne #jayne cobb #yeehawgust #yeehawgust 2025 #yeehawgust day 5 #found family #browncoat for life #firefly serenity #firefly 2002 #firefly ficlet

He was 19 the first time he saw the stars.

The clunky old ship slowly started up, the high pitched whine of the engines filling Wash's ears until he thought he could feel it rattling in his bones, turning them to dust.

Settling deeper into the corner of the small and dusty cargo hold, hidden behind crates of coal, Wash pulled a worn star chart of Earth-that-was out of his backpack, running reverent fingers over the faded constellation lines.

This was his chance to see them, the lights that haunted his dreams. To finally see them up there, in the flesh, not just in the old star charts and shitty art the spacers brought to trade at market. For the first time in his life, Wash would be able to see if the stories the travelers told were true.

Footsteps echoed outside the hold, and Wash panicked, throwing the edge of a nearby tarp over himself and - ew, was that grease? Why was it greasy?

They paused at the door, and Wash held his breath. Please don't find him, please please please -

The ship rose with a shudder and the footsteps stalked away, raised voices echoing around the hold, their words unintelligible.

Letting out a slow breath, Wash threw the tarp off and watched with unseeing eyes as the vaguely yellow smog of Huángsè dragged by.

In his mind's eyes he could picture the ship's cockpit, the buttons and switches, the way the pilot would gently have to coax the ship up and through the thick layer of soupy atmosphere that haunted his waking nightmares...

The ship broke atmo with a jump, rocking Wash out of his reverie, and levelled out, the last bit of Huángsè smog pulling away from the window with an almost audible snap.

The moment it cleared, it took everything in Wash not to cry.

Stars. So many stars, for as far as the eye could see. Thousands, millions, billions - hell, whatever was bigger than billions - of stars glittered and gleamed, winking at him against the blackness of space.

Where the diamonds back home shined in their deadness, the stars shined in their shear aliveness.

He was never going back. Not when it was so much better up here than he'd ever thought it would be.

#firefly #serenity #browncoats #space western #browncoats unite #sci fi #firefly fanfiction #hoban washburne #firefly 2002 #browncoat for life #firefly serenity #what else should i tag this as??#firefly ficlet #firefly fanfic #stars #also yes #the name of wash's planet literally means yellow if i did my research right #writing

Blue, blue, rutting blue, leeching into her skin, stealing her purple like the cold steals warmth in winter, scratching at the thin veneer of colour that still made her her until she was more blue than purple. It wasn't right -

"Albatross?"

Orange hands (golden heart, a lamb pretending to be a wolf, Mal) gently took her hands, and she watched in awe as the blue faded back to purple.

King Midas had turned everything gold, the captain turned everything right again.

"River?" A soft voice asked, and her breath hitched, lucidity returning.

It hadn't been their blue, it had been her blue. Her ge-ge's blood stained her fingers bright red, not theirs. Her purple marred his blue, angry red scratches she had made running down his arm.

Frantically, she threw herself at him, willing him to understand that, that - sometimes, sometimes she got confused - Orange turned red or Red turned soft like Pink (always around family, never them) or she looked too fast and the blues looked the same even though she knew they weren't -

"Shh, mei-mei, it's okay - "

It wasn't, it would never be, when would he understand that?

Warm blue (like a sky in summer) wrapped around her and she let herself fall into it, just for a little while, her own purple singing and mixing until it was almost the shade it had been back then (back in the Before when she'd still been River).

She would never hurt him again, she promised, promised, promised.

(She was already breaking her promise. No one could fix her or make her purple perfect again. It hurt him even when she didn't want it to.)

I'M SORRY, Death said, out of courtesy.

"Ain't you fault," Zoë said, downing a mug of beer.

Creakingly, He settled on the chair across from her, both of them shrouded in the shadows of the shitty Alliance bar's corner.

Resolutely, she ignored him and downed another mug. At the other end of the room a barfight broke out, Jayne's laughter cutting through upset roars.

NO, IT ISN'T. BUT YOU STILL SEEK SOMEONE TO BLAME.

"Still ain't right to blame you. Was his time. Was Fate." She spat out the word like it was poison on her tongue.

A gunshot rung out, narrowly missing hitting Death in the skull. Fate had always been fickle.

I'M STILL SORRY, He said.

Zoë gave him an appraising look and slid her last mug of beer towards Him just as Mal crashed into the table next to them.

Before she could stand, Death handed her a lifetimer. Tiny dinosaurs were carved into the light wood, the golden sand glinting in the low light.

Imperceptibly, Zoë swallowed. With careful fingers, she wound the ends of her leather necklace around it, the faintly glowing timer shifting to settle over her heart.

"Take care," she muttered.

They both knew it was nothing more than a formality.

As she went to rescue Mal and Jayne, Death walked out of the bar, wordlessly humming.

It was just another formality, like so many other things in life were. Death was everywhere, after all.