#drabbles meme

[purity-bears-and-spiderbone-blog]

☽ teddy *lenny face*

What…

What the hell was that?

He’d seen souls. Human souls on screens, monster souls the doctor brought in, whatever this was that had come out of his chest…

That couldn’t be his soul-

“H͞m͡m͜..̛.͢” 

A quiet, thoughtful hum drags the skeleton out from his shock, red slits narrowing and instantly growing cold, as he focused on the much taller monster standing not too far away in the darkness.

“A f͏asci̵n͘a͏ting̷ f̸ind.͘ Ít̨ ̛is ͢r҉e̛m͏arka̷bl͟e you'̨ve ͏co̕me ҉to͟ ͞l̨if͟e i͝n̴ th͘is ͠cond̛i̶t͢i͝on.͞”

His mono analysis made the floating soul pulse red with rage, the black heart in the core thudding softly as its owner growled viciously, trying his best to ignore the thing floating in front of him.

“A ‘fascinating find’? The HELL?! That’s a damned freak of nature, what the hell did you do to me?!”

The spindly monster garbed in black tsked at Sans’ words, stepping closer to the soul and cupping it lightly in his hands, making the skeleton shudder in utter rage. How dare he touch his soul-

“No̢w ́no̵w̶,͘ ̛t̕h̛a̕t͢ i͡sn̶'ţ p̨olit̢e.͡ ́After̶ a̢ll, ͘t̛h͟is̛ ͏is̨ ̸yo̶u̵r soul͢.͟ It͢’s al̀wa͢ys ҉b̀e͞e͟n̢ likȩ ͘t̨h͏i̶s̸,҉ s͝inc̴e ͏the͡ m̨o͝ḿèn̶t͜ y̨ou a͝wo̷ke.̢”

Sans didn’t respond for a few moments, his entire figure trembling with withheld rage. His magic was begging to be used, but it was pointless to use it against someone who knew all his weaknesses already…

“…You didn’t answer the fuckin’ question.”

He finally rumbles out, his tone laced with venom and malicious intent. The scientist didn’t seem too worried by the infuriated monster who looked ready to tear him to bits though, merely sighing nonchalantly before lightly nudging the soul in Sans’ direction.

“Whe̛ţhe͜r ҉y̵o͡u ̵r͡e͞a͠l͢i̷z͏e thi͠s or͝ ̸no͜t,́ t͏h̛is ͏state҉ ͝o͝f ̕yo̶u͞r ͞so͢u͏l̨ ̵is ac̢tua͡l͡l̕y̷ ͘qu̕i͠t̡e ̴a͘ ̶b͏l͞ȩss̨ing. ̵No͠t̛ ͏f͜ųl̀l̷y̶ ̧mo͘nsţer.́.̧.͏”

The soul soon vanishes back into the skeleton’s chest, as the doctor finished.

“But ǹot ̧f͡ully̧ h͟uman͠. Pitý th̴e h̕umań ̢sơúl̡ hàsn͜'͜t̀ ̕been͟ ̛r͟evi̕v͏ed̀ ̴w͠ìth̨ your a̢w͞ák̕e͠n͝ing.̸.̴.”

Sans was dead silent as he felt his abomination of a soul settle back in his bones, his fists clenched and shaking at the other’s words. The scientist meandered off into another room, he could hear the tapping of writing as he left. No doubt taking notes on Sans’ condition…

So in other words, he’d been a god damned failure…

[riverborne]

☯ + first time bringing up a memory

Send a ☯ + and a moment from my muse’s canon for a drabble!

They were in their first century when they’d awoken, they’d been brought to their river and placed on either side of the tides, told that this was their realm by what felt like the cosmos itself, they had to learn the ropes on their own, and they probably wouldn't be able to find their way back home without learning it.

Lethe was on the other side of the river, she could see her swimming around paddling what looked like a river boat with her oar, But she wasn’t so lucky.

She’d been sitting in the shallows of her side for the last hour, feeling the tug of the undertow, the water wasn’t actually all that water-like, she didn’t feel wet after dipping her hand in. 

But even though she was absolutely sure she wasn’t ready for a Starseed to approach, one came forth anyway, patiently waiting inches above her, looking to be archived.

Her lips pinched together, sure beyond all surety that she was going to mess up, but even though her hands were trembling and she was scared, she summoned a stream of water from the river. She didn’t really know what to do from here, perhaps if she...? 

The second the water got close enough to the star seed it flattened out into a disc the size of a begging bowl, rapidly, so quickly that she couldn’t pinpoint any specific memory, she could see the Starseed’s life. She could see the grass, clouds in a sky with a nearby nebula, a flower she couldn’t name. 

But just like that it was done; The water collapsed into a stream again.

Was that it? She reached up to gently touch the Starseed, push it in her sister’s direction, and it obediently floated away. The stream of water, a pink glint in it’s clear from waved in the still air. 

Now just to archive it... 

“Archivius...” She mumbled, trying to contort the water into something that was more recognizable as a memory, as though interpreted by her thoughts the water shifted form, becoming, what she could only describe was a see through scroll, before sinking back into the waves.

[embrace-tranquility]

Mourn Me

Leave a “Mourn Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character mourning your character’s death.

(I almost made myself cry writing this.)

Despite the occasion being a rather heavy one, the sun wasshining. Birds were singing, people we’re going on about their own business,plants and flowers were blooming and the temperature was just right. Reinhardtwould’ve loved a day like this.

Except that Reinhardt was dead.

The speeches and the formalities had already been done. Ithad been a rather quiet funeral, despite Reinhardt being kind of famous back inthe day. His loved ones were there, and everyone from Overwatch had beenpresent as well, even Reaper, though he had kept his mouth shut during thespeeches. Everyone had said something about Reinhardt, and well, tears wereflowing the entire day. Even Soldier 76 had shed a tear, despite the man beingas tough as rock.

Words could not describe how it felt to have lost Reinhardt.

The gunshot itself would not have been fatal, but thesituation that the team was in that day had caused it to become fatal. Despiteit being treated, it had become infected, and spread through the older man’sbody fast. Reinhardt had always been a strong man, physically and mentally, andit would not have been the way for him to go.

Eventually, it had not been the way he died.

In a last ditch attempt to save the team on a mission,Reinhardt, who had been bed-ridden due the wound, had donned his armor for afinal time to save them. This attempt cost him his life. But he had died with asmile on his face. Fallen in battle, like a true knight, a true hero.

“I have fought some glorious battles, have I not?” Had beenhis last words, before he had closed his eyes, and died. Even Mercy could notbring him back to life this time.

 –

“I met Reinhardt as a man who was afraid of omnics, but alsoas a man who wished to overcome this fear. His will was strong, just likehimself, and he was not afraid to dive in headfirst to conquer his fear. It waslike a battle for him, a battle he eventually won.”

It was Zenyatta’s turn to speak. The monk and Reinhardt hadgotten closer over the course of time, the German knight always protecting hisback or front when he needed it. They sometimes shared tea together, or wentfor a stroll. Their friendship had been one of a kind.

“Reinhardt was for all of us a man of importance. Alwaysjovial, ready to fight for you whenever you had a hard time. He was there forall of us, and fought for us despite his age. He wished to defend those hecared for, the innocent, and so many more. And I can say that he has succeededin doing to.”

Zenyatta paused.

“Despite his own troubles, he would always put those asidefor the problems of anyone else. I can say that I have seen both sides of him,and that has made him an even more of a hero to me. He truly was a hero, withhis heart in the right place, and, albeit it seemed that he had a simple mind,he always put others ahead of himself. That was his strength.“

 –

Even the tombstone they had picked out for him fit the man.Adorned with a lion with wings, the stone had a pretty good description of whoReinhardt had been.

A fitting grave for a knight.

Slowly, bit by bit, people started to leave, until it wereonly Soldier 76, Mercy, Zenyatta, Genji and Pharah that were left, standing bythe grave of their friend. Soldier 76 had been mostly silent, like Pharah, andMercy had definitely cried. Genji’s emotions had remained hidden behind hisfaceplate, but Zenyatta felt that Genji was deeply hurt too by the loss ofReinhardt.

It started to turn dark when Pharah and Mercy finally left.

“We should go soon too, master.” Genji said as he put a handon Zenyatta’s shoulder. The monk nodded. Slowly he hovered foreward, standingin front of the grave, looking down at the coffin that was lowered into theground, before he spoke.

“I wish we could have gotten to know each other better. Butyou died an honorable death, one that fits a true hero like you. I pray forthat you may find peace, wherever you are, and that you will look down upon us,aiding us in the battles that still are to come.”

He stilled, letting out a soft sigh. Genji had alreadystarted walking, waiting for Zenyatta further ahead. Soldier 76 was silent,holding Reinhardt’s helmet in his hands.

“Rest well, Reinhardt Wilhelm, my German friend with a heartas big as a lion.”

@purehardt

[sanerontheinside]

55. “Our first date is a picnic on a beach under the stars? Have you swallowed a romance novel? Do I need to call a doctor?” for Ventrobi, if you're still accepting these :)

Ooh, that sounds like Ventress. Ok, here’s a thing, hope you like it :)

Flying with the Rebels was one thing. Ventress would never admit to actually being part of the Rebellion - she was never a part of something bigger. She was a solitary hunter, a bounty hunter who took contracts very selectively these days, and was fine with accepting payments in weapons, services, medical assistance rather than credits.

Flying with The General, though, with the Negotiator who negotiated mostly with fire these days, was a completely different experience. It’s it was a revelation all its own. As near as she could tell, the fall of the Republic and the destruction of the Order broke down the dams; the Rebels’ General Kenobi was unstoppable, fierce, predatory, fighting exactly the way one does when they have nothing left to lose. It was a joy to watch him and to fight alongside him. His connection to the Force had always made it so, but now that connection ran deeper, and any Force Sensitive would be attracted to the raw power of it.

But Ventress missed the teasing aspect, the banter traded over crossed blades. General Kenobi was silent more often than not, and beyond instructions or the odd warning, flying with him was far emptier than she’d expected.

They took a bad hit from a couple of persistent TIE-fighters, and though they promptly dispatched the Imps, they still ended up in an emergency landing with one sputtering engine, a moody droid, and stream of muttered curses. They ventured out, Obi-Wan - with a box of odd instruments to see if he can soup up the one blasted engine to get them as far as the nearest Rebel base, Ventress - to explore their surroundings.

It was a nice tropical island they’d landed just off the shore of. Ventress walked around it in less than an hour, found a fresh spring and some bird-like things that might pass for food later, if necessary. She came back just as the sun set to find the fighter had been dragged closer to shore. Obi-Wan had taken the time to build a modest fire and spread a mat on the sand beside it. A couple of their ration bars lay like dead fish in the middle of the mat. Catching and frying fish seemed more appealing.

Ventress was bored. They’d barely exchanged a civil word between them in the last two tens, and while they were perfectly in tune with each other in a skirmish, the silence was grating on her. She’d taken to sniping at him whenever given the excuse.

“Our first date is a picnic on a beach under the stars? Have you swallowed a romance novel? Do I need to call a doctor?”

Quite frankly, she hadn’t expected a response. Obi-Wan shot her an irritated scowl from where he was fiddling with the engine of their crashed fighter. The glare was made oddly endearing by the dark smudges of engine grease and soot on his face. That was the extent of the acknowledgment she’d been prepared for.

But then Obi-Wan apparently decided the distraction was a welcome one after all, and replied sweetly: “I’m sorry, my dear. Should I have let you pick? You always take me to the nicest places.”

Well, if that wasn’t Kenobi’s patented sarcasm - finally. This was familiar, this was right - not the stilted formality of the General anymore. A wolffish grin curled over her lips. No matter what they made of that engine, this was going to be fun.

[vengarl-of-forossa]

5) Your muse and mine meet on a battlefield. (could be interesting.)

“You have lost yourself, Vengarl.”

He ran his blade along the cold ground, wiping copper scent from rusted metal. “You insist as much,” he chuckled. “But I’ve never felt so whole.”

“This is your last warning. Desist your slaughter now or I shall be forced to slay you.”

“I have been wanting to see what a ‘Lord’s Blade’ is capable of.” Vengarl raised his swords above his head. “Come. Show me your worth.”

“As you wish.” Her own blades were drawn with ease. It was not the first time she had lost a friend to darkness. She was ready to do what needed to be done.

[vengarl-of-forossa]

7 or 3

7) My muse has survived a great battle, but someone they love has not.

How fickle, loyalty. What once he sought to protect, albeit for his own needs (and for him), whom he had served alongside in battle, in death, laid to carnage and ruin in bloody masses of flesh and bone. His finger traced the glinting metal helmet of a fallen Drangleic soldier, illuminated dully by the bonfire. The other hand stroked the matted underside of a breathless rat's chin. They had won, but not without cost.

"... it will be all right," he murmured. "I promise."

Silence. He looked into the rat mouth entrance, the stretching tomb of blackness.

"Mire?"

[vengarl-of-forossa]

11

11) A drabble about my muse’s worst enemy

Within the permission of light, all corporeal beings, alive or notwithstanding, cast a shadow. Perhaps in this way, nature warns us of her inherent danger. A little girl, her life but begun, with the bluest and purest of eyes, will cast a shadow as black as night. And if we are left alone in the darkness, our sins concealed by palest moon, perhaps we are the shadows of night; never are we more true than in the Dark.

In blindest daylight, in encroaching fog, the perch of skulls cast a shadow, but the stretching form is the man’s black body.

[hesjustfast]

☽

☽ - a memory of their father

In his defene, given that his dad was never around when he was a kid, he never had any memories of him as such. However, the person he does think of as more of a father was his mother’s boyfriend and the father of their little sister Ivanna. He was probably the nicest of all of them, and Pietro was very fond of him.

The best memory of him was probably their first Christmas together after Ivanna was born. They had enough money to get a proper Christmas dinner and for all the kids to get Christmas presents. They all gathered together in front of the fire, opening presents and being a family. It became a tradition, until a few years later, he was drafted for Vietnam.

When it comes to Erik though, his main memory is the car ride from the Pentagon. Being crammed in a car beside the man was not the epitomy of fun, but her personally found it hilarious, even if it did seem like the manw as ready to strangle him by the end of it. He’d never seen someone move for a plane so quickly.