Modern!AU Drabble (I’ve lost count)
((One day I will be productive with regards to my education.
Today is not that day.
Have another drabble.))
| Female | Switzerland | Crazy fangirl | I'm already sorry for my English|
learn more?
1/20 »
Modern!AU Drabble (yes, another one)
((Okay so.
I had an exam earlier, and I was supposed to spend all of last night studying for it, but this drabble happened instead, so if I failed, then we all know why.
I hope this was worth it in the long run.))
Another Snk crossover thing. Told you I’d write it. Mhmm.
“Break!” Sharon screamed, her voice shattering the balance of his performance. What was she-?
He blinked, indistinguishable thoughts plowing through his head with a sense of renowned urgency. Was she okay? She hadn’t gotten caught, had she? Reim was with her, but he was in front of the two of them so he couldn’t be sure. For her to yell like that, with such fear and desperation in her voice, something must be up.
But he had checked, there was only one Titan in the area around them, and that was the one he was in the middle of attacking. He was already halfway through the air, he couldn’t turn around now to check, but still. There was no way that one of them could sneak behind him so-
No.
“Hands”
Because a two second clip brings out my Makorra beast.
———-
“Hands”
Korra had healing hands.
She’d learned from the best, she always would say as she drew the water gently around his sore neck muscles or pressed it cool against his scrapes and scratches and bruises or let it tickle his tired feet. She healed him and soothed him and calmed him and he loved it, but not as much as he loved the feel of her hands on him, skin on skin, no water between.
“That feels better,” he would say as her fingertips pressed against his worn and weary body.
“You’re being ridiculous,” she would say, and it made him smile, a secret smile that he kept hidden from her. But she would remove his shirt, just so she could touch his chest, and he would hold her hand to his heartbeat. Skin to skin to lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub.
…
WAH JESSIE hoW?!
Tease
A/N: Based upon schweety’s picture of makorra. It gave me lots of cutesy feels. I miss my steam couple.
———
“Korra,” Mako called on the other side of her door, “You done?” A rhythmic knock expressed his irritable impatience with her.
Based off this —> (x)
It had been exactly three weeks to the day that everything had ended. How they managed to survive, Break had no idea. Him more than anyone, considering the predicament he had found himself in. But somehow, despite his strong belief that he wouldn’t make it, he had. And so had everyone else, for the most part. A strange thought, to be sure.
An odder thought still was this matter of actually living. His promise had been taken care of, and that was all fine and dandy, but once again he was faced with the question: what could there possibly be for him to live for? All throughout his life there was always some goal to be accomplished, something for him to do, but now there was nothing. Becoming a knight, serving the Sinclairs, saving Alyss; always something. But now there was nothing. There was no task for him to do, and, he supposed, he had always based his existence off serving someone else. Without that, what was left for him?
Of course, the majority of these three weeks had been spent mulling over this question, as well as recovering. Even after all this time he still wasn’t in the best shape. A pain, really, but with nothing to do, it hardly mattered, did it?
WWII AU Drabble
((OKAY SO.
Yesterday’s drabble writing went completely wrong.
But I started this one ages ago and I’ve just finished it and I’ve been told to put it on here.
This lovely person first came up with the WWII AU idea, and then my wonderful Breaky branched off and came up with a bunch of headcanons and a heart-wrenching drabble (found HERE), and this is basically the same drabble but from Sharon’s perspective.
OH AND APPARENTLY IT’S SUCCESSFULLY MADE SOMEONE CRY AND MY WRITING’S NEVER BEEN ABLE TO DO THAT BEFORE SO WOW I’M BUZZING.
Not recommended for people that dislike any form of angst. I’m a horrible person.))
Off With His Hat
((finally done! sorry it took so long!
Warnings: Spoilers for Retrace 83, mild blood and gore
enjoy!))
There was no telling how long it’d been. With no window to the outside world nor clock to tell the time, one had to go off their own guess. But the old man could tell it had been one day since tremors had rocked his cell. He’d grown used to realizing the passing of time. The wound reopened by a brutal beating had sealed itself up again but only barely. He feared that if he moved the wrong way the delicate scab tissue would rip itself apart causing him to bleed even more from his abdomen. Dried red and blackish blood had dried to a gristly brown on the cold, dank floor. He could feel the sharp edges of the manacles that held him flat against the wall, elevating his arms above his head, beginning to cut into his wrists. And, on top of all that, he was starving. Each grumble and moan of his stomach hurt just as much as everything else. For the first time in years, he could feel himself slipping away.
Curse that rat … those hounds … His chest rasped as the all too familiar taste of blood rose up in his throat and came out his dry lips. The chains rattled as his body was racked by the wheezing coughs. It only lasted about ten seconds but it was still painful and taxing on what was left of his body. He let out one last frustrated grunt as he spat what blood was left in his mouth onto the floor. “Damn!” I’ve never felt this helpless in my life. Oz-sama … Gilbert … Ojou-sama, what’s happening to you?
“Still having problems, boy?” The smooth, snide voice chimed like screeching bells. From the hallway connecting his cell to the rest of the prison came the footsteps of three figures. He could tell by the telltale click-clack of her heels that Lotti Baskerville was the one that mocked him. The young pink-haired woman stood in front of his broken cell, unveiling her fair head from the hood. “Still getting used to being on the bottom?”
He grinned painfully. “My! Harsh words coming from a lady like you.”
“Don’t try and flatter me.” With a ‘tch’, Lotti slipped a large key into the lock keeping the cell door closed. The large clanging of the door was like the screeching halt of carriage wheels. Rough callused hands grabbed the manacles holding his wrists up and released them from captivity. He felt his knees buckle as the two other Bakservilles pushed him over onto the ground, wrenching his weakened arms behind him.
“It’s good you know your place now, Break.” Her voice was sharp and bitter like poison. “Xerxes Break, former Mad Hatter, under the order of Glen Baskerville, you are summoned to meet the Head of the Baskervilles.”
UNTITLED
((Hey, hey look what I finally finished! Yeah! Productivity for the win!
Yeah…
It’s not all that exciting.
But yeah…
… Yeah…))
Safe
If Break and Sharon ever ended up having a kid, this is totally how I see it being. And it’s sorta cute, so I wrote something up. Yup.
The night was deathly silent. Dark, inky, the air far thinner than what it appeared, and silent. Not necessarily a calming kind of silence, or one that invited a rampage of thoughts into your head, but more of a menacing one. The kind that got you thinking about everything that could be wrong with the moment, got you believing it.
For example, was Sharon still here, or had she left? Normally he would be able to hear the faint sounds of her breathing, a reassuring noise whenever he woke up during the long hours of the night, but there wasn’t any. Did he not notice her get up?
