Theme 70: I'm Worried About You
Today's theme:
I'm Worried About You1. Submit your drabble that fits this theme as a comment to this post. It should be between 100-300 words, if you go over/under a bit that's fine! If it's longer than say 400 words, I ask that you post on your journal or fanfiction.net and then submit the link to this post. If you find that your story is going ( Read more... )
I'm Worried About You1. Submit your drabble that fits this theme as a comment to this post. It should be between 100-300 words, if you go over/under a bit that's fine! If it's longer than say 400 words, I ask that you post on your journal or fanfiction.net and then submit the link to this post. If you find that your story is going ( Read more... )
Comments 5
Claim: Elfangor & family
Rating: PG
Drabbles completed so far: 23/100
< Good morning, Father. > I twisted one stalk eye to watch his approach from behind, continuing my strengthening exercises. I missed my strong human arms with their ten thick fingers. It wasn't nearly as acute of a loss as my tail blade and stalk eyes were, but it was harder to remember. Just as during my first few human years I had been reluctant to move things, I now found myself attempting to lift objects far too heavy for Andalite arms.
< Good morning. > He trotted up to the bank of the stream to begin his morning ritual, and I felt a deep sense of loss in my core. I may have regained my birth form, but I no longer felt like an Andalite, no longer felt the spiritual effects our rituals are meant to provide.
When he had finished, he stood, gazing with all four eyes out across the grazing fields. I stood several tail-lengths behind, stalk eyes fixed on the ground beneath my hooves like a child waiting for punishment. I knew what was coming.
< ( ... )
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Claim: YOUR CLAIM (As listed on the claim's post) Men of the Buffyverse
Rating: (G, PG, PG-13 or NC-17) PG
Drabbles completed so far: 29/100
DEPRESSION
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Claim: Mal/River
Rating: PG
Drabbles completed so far: 3/100
His Bones Would Be the Shrapnel
“You got shot because of me.”
He looks up at her, blood drawing a line across the bandage on his arm, thin but spreading and out of place. “Think I got shot cause a man with a gun shot me, darlin', not cause of anything you did.”
The blood bothers her; she smells the metal-tang of it, feels it sticky on her hands, across her dress where he'd pressed against her on the ride back, what should be inside him now outside her.
“You let yourself be distracted. Put complications where simplicity should have been, to shield me,” she says, keeping her eyes set on his face, bleached shades paler than the norm but expressive as ever. “You promised things wouldn't be changed. I can't do my job if you get in my way.”
“I ain't tryin' to get in your way! Just happened to be moving in a general direction of bein' between that guy and you, is all.”
“Liar. You're the Captain, I protect you. You have to let me,” she insists, as he ( ... )
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