#100 words drabble challenge

[taralaurel]

🎉 100 Fics Celebration! 🎉

I just hit 100 fics on AO3!

(Okay, so, a 102 because I didn't notice at first...🤦‍♀️)

To celebrate, and because I've recently made some amazing fandom friends, I'm going to do something I've never done before!

A 100 word drabble challenge!

Thanks to @chaotictarlos for the suggestion & inspiration!! 💕

Okay, how it works:

Send me a Prompt (while Tarlos has been my current love, this can be 911 LS or OG, Batfam, Marvel, or any other fandom I've written for.)

I reserve the right to say no to a request.

Send me your prompts! Be as vague or as specific as you like!

Please have patience.

Any questions - ask me!

Tagging those who might be interested: @chaotictarlos, @carlos-in-glasses, @sanjuwrites, @lightningboltreader

[elluqien710]

day 11: credit ⛔️

“To my credit, it wasn’t all my fault,”

protested Turko.

Nelyo sighed. Káno stomped his foot, holding up his ripped and mud-stained papers. “Yes, it is! Turko’s supposed to watch Huan, it’s his dog!”

Turko growled. “Maybe you shouldn’t leave your scribbled sheet music out in the open! You watch your own things!”

“How is this my fault!? Nelyo, tell him it’s not my fault!”

Curvo materialized at the door, his head cocked disinterestedly. “Káno, keep it down, will you?” he said coldly. “I’m trying to work at the moment.”

Nelyo groaned. “Eru, why must I deal with you gremlins?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“To my credit, it wasn’t all my fault,”

muttered Celegorm.

Maglor slammed his fist on the table. “It wasn’t all your fault? It wasn’t all your fault!?”

Celegorm and Curufin winced before Maglor’s threatening voice. “We were only trying to—” Celegorm started.

“What happened to both Finrod and Thingol’s daughter was all your fault, and you know it!” Maedhros shouted, his face twisted in fury. “I cannot believe how absolutely horrible you two are!”

Curufin scoffed. “We were trying to help, dear brother. Nargothrond would have been—”

Maedhros stood up. “I have had enough of you two.”

He walked out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

<- day 10: serenade 💗 | day 12: scones 🥐 ->

all drabbles

[twopointsinspace]

Flint’s gaze lingered again. Too long, too heavy. Silver felt it, as he always did, like heat crawling up his spine. He didn’t turn right away. Let him look. Let him wonder if he had been caught. When he finally glanced over, it was slow, deliberate. A tilt of the head. That glint in his eye - mischief, challenge, something darker. Flint looked away first. Again. Silver’s smirk curled, not unkind. There was power in being watched. But more in knowing why. He turned back to the sea, pretending the air between them was not crackling with things neither dared name.

[blackrosesandwhump]

100 Drabble Challenge: Gothic Whump Edition

The challenge: pick one of the 60 word prompts below and write a short drabble using it!

Faint

Ashen

Candle

Blood

Delirious

Weak

Coughing fit

Vigil

Drugged

Decay

Storm

Castle

Darkness

Dagger

Chains

Mirror

Poison

Forest

Straightjacket

Stabbed

Masquerade

Dungeon

Bandages

Experiment

Monster

Haunted

Insane

Imprisoned

Laboratory

Obsessed

Isolation

Coffin

Restrained

Ritual

Skeleton

Cursed

Buried alive

Hypnosis

Cemetery

Drained of blood

Nails

Cage

Foggy

Terror

Corpse

Scream

Ruins

Afraid

Locked away

Ghost

Midnight

Crypt

Vampire

Demon

Nightmare

Creature

Crumbling

Torture

Dead

Wasting illness

[novasintheroom]

Smell is one of Vash’s favorite senses.

It wasn’t before he met you. Before you, smells were just smells. The hot air of the desert, the metallic tang of bullets too close, B.O. in a bar, the smell of the day’s stew being boiled in the back. All information telling him a million different things. Some of them he even likes! Especially donuts.

But then you come along and you rub your hands with apple scented lotion, you spray yourself with rose water, your breath is minty fresh and you smell clean. He hadn’t realized how much he missed the smell of cleanliness ‘til he travelled with you. He only smells cleanliness when visiting Home – and you’re becoming a second home to him. It’s hard to stay clean out in the wastes, he knows better than most. He appreciates what you put into your cleanliness so much.

He gets into the habit of looking for lotions or body sprays you (and he) would like. You complain once that you’re nearly out of your lotion, and the next day a new bottle is sitting on your bag, because he keeps emergency bottles just for cases like this. He starts smelling his own clothes, trying to not bother you with any sweat smells (though he’s been told that he only ever smells fresh, which must have something to do with his Plant DNA). He becomes so much more aware of scent after you.

And when you aren’t travelling together, when you must go your own ways for a day, or a month, or a year, he looks for you through scents. A whiff of apples will bring back memories of your soft hands and bright grin. Roses are subtle and remind him of the jokes you’d say to get him smiling after being run out of town. He buys these things now and uses them every once in a while when he’s feeling lonely.

Vash always waits for the day when roses and apples will come back into his life, and you always do.

[homicidal-mother]

For @deadbranch 100 word drabble challenge.

-

Warnings: Angst, No Comfort, Implied Death

-

He blames himself for this, you were never meant to be in harms way, yet somehow they found you.

"It's bad, isn't it?"

"Just a graze-"

"Is it bad?"

"No, no, you're fine..."

It's not in a place you can see but you can tell from his body language, the usual composure of the man you love shaken entirely... You just know he's lying.

"Please, don't lie to me... Is it bad?"

"It's... Not good. I swear, I'm gonna fix this. You'll be alright, Dandelion."

He needs to believe that. Even as he watches your eyes go dull.

-

[Kyle Isn't Good At Lying To You]

[bubblesthemonsterartist]

Arcane, Ekko, realizing Powder is well and truly gone

Imagine a single night passing. A night in which there were no stars, no moon, no celestial bodies. Because the air was so thick with toxins outsiders couldn’t even breathe it. Imagine, in that single night, your friends, family, home.. all of it washed away in a flood of fire and blood.

No newspaper articles were written mourning the dead, no police came to investigate. But those people—

They were yours.

And then. Somehow. Years later and under a rain of fireflies that sounded more like gunfire than wings, the girl you lost came back.

But she came back wrong.

[tyfinn]

Now Who's Being Sentimental?

#3 @schittscreekdrabblechallenge @a-noble-dragon

****

Tucked in the back corner of his and Patrick’s walk-in closet, sat David’s cedar chest. Everything he kept from his time living in the motel was stored there. 

Yesterday, Stevie mentioned she wanted to put together something for Johnny to commemorate the Rosebud Motel’s upcoming tenth anniversary. Although she said it was because Johnny was sentimental, David knew the anniversary meant something to her as well. 

He offered to check to see if he had anything he could give her. Judging by the amount of items David decided to keep in there, Johnny wasn’t the only one who was sentimental. 

[seriousbrat]

Hi,

If you don't mind, can you please write a Snily drabble that ends with an angsty kiss?

Ooh a drabble is difficult!! Only 100 words? Unfortunately I love a challenge so I had to do this haha

Sev holds onto things. Having few possessions means he must jealously guard them; he clings, he keeps, digs his fingers in. He hasn’t yet learnt: the tighter you hold on, the faster things will slip away. This lesson waits on the corner of Gladstone Lane. He sees a tendril of smoke spiral from her perfect lips. ‘What d’you want?’ she says. ‘We’re not talking, remember?’ Yet his silence disquiets her. He feels her slipping through his fingers, like smoke. Wavering. They don’t talk. She presses her lips to his. Before he can touch her, hold on, she has slipped away.

[taralaurel]

drabble prompt: Tarlos a near break-up :)

"I can't believe this, Carlos."

"TK, I'm sorry -"

"We're married -"

"We have to."

"Why?"

"I couldn't say no. Things got out of control."

"Out of control? You didn't hydroplane, Carlos. You're breaking up with me, for someone else!"

"It's not -"

"It is -"

"Wa's hi-ro-plane?"

TK's head swivels, staring down at the little girl between them.

"You're taking playing pretend a little too seriously, TK."

"And I don't think you're taking it seriously enough, Carlos. Charlie asked to marry you. Are you taking that lightly?"

"Nah uh, Reyes." Judd swoops his daughter up. "First my goddaughters, now my daughter-daughter? No sir."

You were probably looking for angst, and I'm sorry. This came to me instead. I couldn't handle a real almost-breakup between the boys.

But this has also sparked an idea for an entire Tarlos babysitting fic, so that'll be happening now eventually. 😂

[elluqien710]

day 09: enjoy 🌸

“Enjoy.”

Káno looked up. “What?”

Turko narrowed his eyes, lips tightening into a thin grimace. “You enjoy this?”

Káno glanced around him. Music books and scribbled notated papers were strewn about in a cluttered mess. He clutched a quill in one ink-smudged hand and a flute in the other.

He grinned. “Yes.”

Turko snorted and flipped through Káno’s illegibly written sheet music. “You’ve locked yourself in this room for days, have been singing non-stop, and is clearly sleep-deprived.”

Káno let out a dreamy sigh. “And I love it. It’s wonderful. The melodies…the music…how could you not enjoy it?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Enjoy.”

Maglor didn’t know what it meant anymore.

Walking, day after day, across the shore against the crashing waves and roaring ocean. Dragging his weary feet through the sand. Shivering as wind gusts pierced his skin and rattled his bones.

He was but a wraith. A ghost, drained of all passion or life.

His instruments had long broken. He merely opened his cracked lips and sang the melancholy Nolodantë, his voice but a thin whisper drifting through the air. Mourning, as a shadow-folk, mist-haunting, dropping vain tears in the salt thankless Sea.

Enjoy.

He had long forgotten what it was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

<- day 08: stars 💫 | day 10: serenade 💗 ->

all drabbles

[stargazer56]

Peach

@schittscreekdrabblechallenge I wrote another drabble featuring pre-relationship thirsty Patrick. Is it in the color spirit of the SCMDC? Probably not. But

“Holy shit, arms!”

Patrick Brewer, age 28, is going to die right here.

David turns, offering Patrick a glimpse of his lower back, as he bends to place his sweater on top of his black bag.

David is wearing a white T-shirt. Black, wiry chest hair peeks out from the top of the vee. Patrick has never been harder in his entire life. David’s body is surprisingly toned for someone who complains loudly about any activity that works up a sweat.

He needs to stop staring, but he can’t. David is the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen. What would those arms feel like wrapped around my-

“Patrick!” David’s sharp voice breaks him out of his trance. “Are you okay? Where did you go?”

Busted. Shit. “Sorry, David, just lost in thought.”

“About the peaches? I know you’re concerned about the profit margins for seasonal fruit.”

“Yeah, um, yes, profit margins.”

“Are you going to take off your button down so you don’t get peach juice on it?”

“No, my clothes are washable.”

“Suit yourself,” David replies, biting into the juicy, ripe peach.

The juice dribbles down his chin. Patrick stares. He can never get up from this picnic table.

[shiniestcrow]

Drabble Challenge May - Day 15 - Last

"You don't seem surprised." "This was never meant to last. You can no more change your nature than I can mine. The monster dies at the end. I am a monster and so I must die. There was never a world in which I could live." A pause, then a smile. "And yet, I held onto some foolish hope that it might be different." A shake of the head and it was gone. "No matter. Do your job and do it properly. I won't make the same mistake twice so you better make sure I don't come back this time."

[veifei]

ok the question is. do i add in a little angst to the birthday fic as a treat or. or is that quite cruel actually

[writeforfandoms]

Feeling a little silly, have a little 100 word drabble for @deadbranch challenge.

You stared at the veritable explosion in the living room. What looked to be every skein of yarn you owned lay strewn about, most of them at least half unraveled. Needles and hooks littered the mess like shining pieces of multi-colored shrapnel. The vase had been knocked over (somehow not broken), flowers everywhere.

In the middle of the chaos stood Gaz and the dog.

Neither of you owned a dog.

"I don't want to know," you said, holding up one hand just as Gaz opened his mouth. "Just... clean it up."

Shoulders deflated, Gaz offered only a sheepish, "Yes ma'am."

[se-agapo-skywalker]

100-Word Drabble

CW: age gap (dilf!Luke), oral sex (f receiving)

You've never felt a beard between your thighs before--not like this. Never like this. Hell, you've never felt anything like it at all.

Luke, as your master, is obligated to share as much knowledge as he can... knowledge you wouldn't expect a Jedi to have in a million years. Yet, somehow, in typical Skywalker fashion, he does.

"Hold still, sweetheart," he had told you as he spread your legs apart, as far as they could go, while he drank in the sight of your pussy. The first one he'd seen in ages, his salvation, practically... and he's intent on worshiping it. Worshiping you.