Every Monday, I will post a prompt. You have until the following Monday to write and reply with a 100-200 word fic, i.e. a 'drabble', inspired by the prompt. (For an extra challenge, try to hit exactly 100 words!)
You can reply with the full text of the drabble, or link out to another site like Ao3, Tumblr, etc.
Any rating is permitted; please warn for NSFW and content where appropriate.
WHAT ELSE?
This week is Amnesty Week! You can use any prompt (or combination of prompts) from previous challenge weeks. Feel free to post them here instead of on their original posts.
You may post as many responses as you like.
If you're inspired to continue your drabbles, you're welcome to connect multiple challenge responses to each other, or expand on your fics outside of the challenge.
Characters: Sammy, Sumio, and a few WWWWW folks Prompt(s): Rewrite....TWO Rating: PG Notes: a continuation of this one; i luv stupid heel turns Word count: 200
"My god! Notorious' former tag-team partner has him on the ropes! I can hardly watch!"
The crowd, howling in dismay, hangs onto the edge of their seats. The champion's downed yet defiant as he crawls away, but his opponent's not done with him yet. Blade Saeba, clad in all black, grins wickedly as he strides across the ring-- he grasps Notorious roughly by the collar and raises him up to his knees.
Blade, eyes dark, lifts the microphone to his lips. "I've lived in your shadow for too long, Notorious..." Their eyes are fixed upon each other, a stare so intense that the whole arena's fallen into a tense, anxious hush. "Now, it's Blade Saeba's time to shine." He forces Notorious to his feet and pulls him closer-- their faces now inches away from each other.
"And you'd better stay out of my way... aibo."
---
The sound guy cuts Sumio's mic just as he tosses it to the ground-- then tosses Sammy to the ground. Standing behind his booth, their promoter rubs her chin, following the match's action closely.
At last, she hums thoughtfully. "They were right. The leather is much sexier."
Characters: Kusabi Prompt(s): Moon, Ghost Rating: G Notes: if I don't write in media res I die Word count: 111
Kusabi is at home on the asphalt. Sometimes it feels like he's spent eons here, his truck cab the sole reprieve from scorching pavement and the sun's rays. The days here stretch into infinity, like the sea fading into the sky on the horizon.
But tonight, there is a stillness. That brilliant blue is now a deep, dark indigo, and all seems still on Lospass, save for the lighthouse on the far end of the shore.
He lights a cigarette, pulls, waits, breathes. The moon hangs high, and the pop of an automatic pistol doesn't shake him from his reverie.
Smoke trails, and he can see Akira's shadow in the moon.
Characters: Speed Buster, Naomi Prompt(s): trial and error, drive Rating: G Notes: purely headcanon zone but I like to think that Naomi was on speaking terms with the people she likely supplied weapons to Word count: 173
"Look, I'm only coming to you because--"
Speed Buster wipes her sunglasses on her shawl, rayon and polyester only serving to smudge them even further, and her beady eyes narrow at Naomi's presence disturbing her current binge of trashy daytime TV. "Because...?"
A younger Naomi pinches the bridge of her nose, just under her goggles. "No one else knows their way around energy generation like you in this country, and I wanted to run a design past someone to make sure this shit doesn't blow up if it's over loaded!" She holds up a CD, with 椿 cleanly written in thin Sharpie. Speed Buster grumbles just a bit before getting up and snatching the CD from her outstretched hand, popping it in her ancient PC's disc drive.
"If yer lookin' for someone to feed yer ego, look for Christel." She snorts dismissively, clicking on icons to load the blueprints. "But I'll do you one last favor."
Naomi relaxes, just a bit, and watches as Speed Buster evaluates her work.
Characters: Sakura & Tsuki Prompt(s): trial and error, luck Rating: PG Word count: 137
"Face it, kid." Her father's new recruit leans, idle, against the shooting range wall, watching Sakura pepper a target with wasted bullets. "You're not that deep into the Academy yet, right? You should wait for the firearm course first."
Sakura fires again; the discharge reverberates in the walls, in her skull. Miss.
"See? Your grip's all off. Give up: there's no way you're gonna hit that target."
Breathe in, breathe out. Sakura steadies her hand, sets her eyes on the target; in her annoyance, she imagines it's Tsuki's face on the paper sheet.
BANG.
"Well, shit." Tsuki gapes. He pushes off the wall to get a closer look-- sure enough, there's a clean hole through the target's head. "Lucky shot, I guess."
"Luck, nothing," she retorts, craning her head over her neck, "I am getting better."
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heinouscrimesunit2022-03-20 09:14 pm
TEMPLATE
Prompt(s): Escape/Luck
Rating: T
Notes: n/a
Word count: 100
no subject
Prompt(s): Rewrite....TWO
Rating: PG
Notes: a continuation of this one; i luv stupid heel turns
Word count: 200
"My god! Notorious' former tag-team partner has him on the ropes! I can hardly watch!"
The crowd, howling in dismay, hangs onto the edge of their seats. The champion's downed yet defiant as he crawls away, but his opponent's not done with him yet. Blade Saeba, clad in all black, grins wickedly as he strides across the ring-- he grasps Notorious roughly by the collar and raises him up to his knees.
Blade, eyes dark, lifts the microphone to his lips. "I've lived in your shadow for too long, Notorious..." Their eyes are fixed upon each other, a stare so intense that the whole arena's fallen into a tense, anxious hush. "Now, it's Blade Saeba's time to shine." He forces Notorious to his feet and pulls him closer-- their faces now inches away from each other.
"And you'd better stay out of my way... aibo."
---
The sound guy cuts Sumio's mic just as he tosses it to the ground-- then tosses Sammy to the ground. Standing behind his booth, their promoter rubs her chin, following the match's action closely.
At last, she hums thoughtfully. "They were right. The leather is much sexier."
The sound guy whirls around. "Eh?"
no subject
(Anonymous) 2022-03-25 09:30 pm (UTC)(link)Prompt(s): Moon, Ghost
Rating: G
Notes: if I don't write in media res I die
Word count: 111
Kusabi is at home on the asphalt. Sometimes it feels like he's spent eons here, his truck cab the sole reprieve from scorching pavement and the sun's rays. The days here stretch into infinity, like the sea fading into the sky on the horizon.
But tonight, there is a stillness. That brilliant blue is now a deep, dark indigo, and all seems still on Lospass, save for the lighthouse on the far end of the shore.
He lights a cigarette, pulls, waits, breathes. The moon hangs high, and the pop of an automatic pistol doesn't shake him from his reverie.
Smoke trails, and he can see Akira's shadow in the moon.
no subject
(Anonymous) 2022-03-27 05:41 am (UTC)(link)Prompt(s): trial and error, drive
Rating: G
Notes: purely headcanon zone but I like to think that Naomi was on speaking terms with the people she likely supplied weapons to
Word count: 173
"Look, I'm only coming to you because--"
Speed Buster wipes her sunglasses on her shawl, rayon and polyester only serving to smudge them even further, and her beady eyes narrow at Naomi's presence disturbing her current binge of trashy daytime TV. "Because...?"
A younger Naomi pinches the bridge of her nose, just under her goggles. "No one else knows their way around energy generation like you in this country, and I wanted to run a design past someone to make sure this shit doesn't blow up if it's over loaded!" She holds up a CD, with 椿 cleanly written in thin Sharpie. Speed Buster grumbles just a bit before getting up and snatching the CD from her outstretched hand, popping it in her ancient PC's disc drive.
"If yer lookin' for someone to feed yer ego, look for Christel." She snorts dismissively, clicking on icons to load the blueprints. "But I'll do you one last favor."
Naomi relaxes, just a bit, and watches as Speed Buster evaluates her work.
no subject
(Anonymous) 2022-03-28 05:00 am (UTC)(link)Prompt(s): trial and error, luck
Rating: PG
Word count: 137
"Face it, kid." Her father's new recruit leans, idle, against the shooting range wall, watching Sakura pepper a target with wasted bullets. "You're not that deep into the Academy yet, right? You should wait for the firearm course first."
Sakura fires again; the discharge reverberates in the walls, in her skull. Miss.
"See? Your grip's all off. Give up: there's no way you're gonna hit that target."
Breathe in, breathe out. Sakura steadies her hand, sets her eyes on the target; in her annoyance, she imagines it's Tsuki's face on the paper sheet.
BANG.
"Well, shit." Tsuki gapes. He pushes off the wall to get a closer look-- sure enough, there's a clean hole through the target's head. "Lucky shot, I guess."
"Luck, nothing," she retorts, craning her head over her neck, "I am getting better."