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?
Don't worry if you missed last week: you can go back and write a late response anytime.
You may post more than one response to a single week's prompt.
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: Henry, Jeane, Travis Rating: G Notes: these kids deserved a little better Word count: 96
Henry huddles around Jeane, Travis on the other side as they duck against a withered tree. The warmth between them is scant, but it's there.
Jeane glances down at Travis' bruised and scraped knee in mild concern; Henry is already approaching his younger brother with rubbing alcohol and a cotton swab. The salve stings, and they all grimace.
Travis, twenty-seven and alone in his motel room, remembers these in bursts, names at the edges of his memory. He pets Jeane, and the recollections are gone as quickly as they came.
"I'm telling you," grumbles Sammy, dabbing blood off Sumio's forehead with a cloth, "We're not doing any of this Deathmatch shit once we get out of the indies, aibo."
"But, you gotta admit." With his thumb, Sumio brushes away a red rivulet before it gets into his eye. "The light tube was pretty cool."
Sammy twists his lip. "Okay, it did shatter pretty cool. Good job."
Sumio beams, and with a roll of his eyes Sammy chucks the bloody towel right at his face.
"Hey!"
"Next time, turn your head faster. I don't wanna catch you on the face again."
Characters: Jeane, Kim Kitsuragi Rating: T for descriptions of gore Notes: aftercare Word count: 142
The man who sticks red sigils on her arms in a parking lot two blocks down from Gold Town is slight, impossibly skinny. His eyes are magnified in a pair of bifocals, focused on the beat of the tattoo gun in his hands. The sensation on her arm is more acutely annoying than unpleasant, so she looks at him feel out the rest of her freckled skin on her arms with a wary eye.
He notices it, but pays her piercing glare no mind. The air between them, despite the late summer air, feels cold.
"Clean it, keep it exposed, but out of sun." He says, and his tone is softer than she expected.
"Thanks," she says, flipping saran wrap with her free hand. "No alcohol?"
"It's aftercare, not first aid."
She nods at that, watching as he continues to wound her.
no subject
Rating: M
Notes: n/a
Word count: 151
Link: here
no subject
(Anonymous) 2022-04-11 05:27 am (UTC)(link)Rating: G
Notes: these kids deserved a little better
Word count: 96
Henry huddles around Jeane, Travis on the other side as they duck against a withered tree. The warmth between them is scant, but it's there.
Jeane glances down at Travis' bruised and scraped knee in mild concern; Henry is already approaching his younger brother with rubbing alcohol and a cotton swab. The salve stings, and they all grimace.
Travis, twenty-seven and alone in his motel room, remembers these in bursts, names at the edges of his memory. He pets Jeane, and the recollections are gone as quickly as they came.
no subject
Rating: PG
Notes: blooooood
Word count: 100
"I'm telling you," grumbles Sammy, dabbing blood off Sumio's forehead with a cloth, "We're not doing any of this Deathmatch shit once we get out of the indies, aibo."
"But, you gotta admit." With his thumb, Sumio brushes away a red rivulet before it gets into his eye. "The light tube was pretty cool."
Sammy twists his lip. "Okay, it did shatter pretty cool. Good job."
Sumio beams, and with a roll of his eyes Sammy chucks the bloody towel right at his face.
"Hey!"
"Next time, turn your head faster. I don't wanna catch you on the face again."
no subject
(Anonymous) 2022-04-24 09:07 pm (UTC)(link)i had a vision
(Anonymous) 2023-09-23 12:40 am (UTC)(link)Rating: T for descriptions of gore
Notes: aftercare
Word count: 142
The man who sticks red sigils on her arms in a parking lot two blocks down from Gold Town is slight, impossibly skinny. His eyes are magnified in a pair of bifocals, focused on the beat of the tattoo gun in his hands. The sensation on her arm is more acutely annoying than unpleasant, so she looks at him feel out the rest of her freckled skin on her arms with a wary eye.
He notices it, but pays her piercing glare no mind. The air between them, despite the late summer air, feels cold.
"Clean it, keep it exposed, but out of sun." He says, and his tone is softer than she expected.
"Thanks," she says, flipping saran wrap with her free hand. "No alcohol?"
"It's aftercare, not first aid."
She nods at that, watching as he continues to wound her.
Re: i had a vision
(Anonymous) 2023-09-23 12:41 am (UTC)(link)