“Wha—oh,” Sirius grins when he catches sight of them. The hay-addled one extends his arm out to throw a handful of grass at the other boy but he dodges just in time, behind the legs of—
“Oh.”
Regulus doesn’t mean to say it aloud—it’s more of an exhale, really. A breath he hadn’t known he was holding, nor for how long. A few seconds? Minutes? All day? The last twenty-five years of his life, maybe?
“‘Oh’ indeed,” Sirius agrees, leaning forward with that familiar arm around Regulus’s shoulder.
Kuramochi walks into their friend’s apartment after Miyuki and gets an eyeful of the potluck spread. Shucking his jacket and shoes with maximum haste, he blusters into the kitchen.
Before Miyuki can open his mouth or do anything besides pinch the bridge of his nose, Kuramochi hollers, “Make way! Leave some room, everyone.” People look around in slight confusion as Kuramochi spreads his arms out to their full length and stands bodily in front of Miyuki. In response, Miyuki has upgraded reactions to fully facepalming, now.
Kuramochi turns slightly and gives Miyuki a sidelong smirk. Lowly, directly into Kuramochi’s ear, Miyuki breathes, “you little SHIT.”
Continuing to make a complete spectacle of himself, Kuramochi loudly states to no one in particular, “My fiancé’s allergic to guacamole! I’m taking one for the team here by protecting him.”
Miyuki reassures the room in an exasperated tone, “I just have to NOT EAT ANY; I’m FINE.”
Unfortunately for Miyuki, Kuramochi talks fully over him, “Excuse me I see the guacamole just sitting there all innocently like it won’t hurt my fiancé. I’m watching you, avocado.” He lowers one arm while pointing two fingers first at his eyes, to the guacamole itself, and then back to his eyes, as if in an intimidation gesture.
With zero volume limits on himself this time, Miyuki asks, “Why are you like this.” Under his breath, begrudgingly, he admits, “it’s….kinda sweet though.” Kuramochi’s resulting thousand watt smile beaming up at him could power their apartment for a week, probably.
thank you, Amanda! i'm cheating and including senseless @marivenah sent in
microprompt: rampage and senseless
words: 549
warnings: talk of violence, poison
When the first man started laughing, that was when everyone else started panicking.
The small apartment was soon covered in the green fumes of the familiar eerie Joker toxin and Anita thrashed around trying to wriggle out of the ropes she was tied up in.
It wasn’t long before screams and sobs turned into chuckles and cackles, and bodies were hitting the floor.
Doesn't he know I'm here? Anita thought, her brown eyes darting around trying to look for green hair and a purple suit. Maybe he didn’t know? Maybe an idiotic goon thought she would be stored in another room and decided to gas the place anyway.
Just as she felt her throat itching and the chuckles start to bubble up, the door crashed open and two huge men in clown masks entered. They quickly stepped aside to make way for the man Anita had been looking for.
Joker waltzed in not with a grin, but with a snarl and a feral look in his green eyes.
His eyes scanned the room until he found her, taking long strides. Before she knew it, he captured her lips in his,and she was breathing him in instead of the gas.
"Relax. Focus on me," he hissed, more of an order than reassurance.
She nodded, slowing her breathing down as she felt him cut the ropes that held her.
As soon as she was free, she gripped his purple suit like it was a lifeline and brought her lips back to his. Joker deepened the kiss as he helped her stand, inhaling deeply and making a guttural sound that had her begging for more.
He growled and bit her lower lip before he pulled away to shove a gas mask on her. There would be time for a reunion later.
"Idiots," Joker snarled as he and Anita watched the forced smiles on his latest victims writhing on the wooden floorboards. “If their friends couldn’t kill me, what made them think they would achieve anything different? And by kidnapping you? Arkham should start screening the guards they hire. Is it so hard to find someone who'd want to watch over Gotham's kookiest criminals?”
As Joker giggled beside her, Anita’s finger twitched as she remembered the guards laughing at her earlier for "fucking an insane clown who’d rather fuck a bat”; and saying she’d suffer as much as their friends did right before Joker killed them.
"Honey," she said, and Joker looked at her impatiently so she immediately followed up with, "Weren’t you supposed to teach me how to use a knife?"
Joker blinked at her once before his green eyes widened and his lips curled up into that trademark grin of his. "Oh how could I forget, pumpkin?" he exclaimed happily, placing a hand on his heart theatrically.
Then he took out the knife from his coat pocket and Anita could feel her cheeks flare with heat as he winked at her, seeing the malicious twinkle in his eye.
Who needed Batman when he was her savior?
He made a show of kissing her knuckles before glancing at the guards sobbing on the floor.
He wrapped an arm around her and twirled the knife in his hand. "Now, which little piggy wants to cry wee wee wee all the way home?”
After 84 years of my inbox collecting dust.... I have finally answered a PROMPT! HUZZAH. lmao
this is set....sometime after kotfe.....i think. Ambiguous for mystery reasons you understand. xD
(under a readmore for length....)
(yes i know it's a microprompt dont look at me like that!xD)
Night had descended. The endless sands of Tatooine stretched out into the infinite darkness before them as a small group made their way onwards. It wasn’t wise to be out this far into the Jundland wastes during the bright light of day, it was even more dangerous at night. Sattura kept her steps even as they crossed sand dune after sand dune.
“Under cover of darkness….” Seth muttered from next to her with a shake of his head. “Who talks like that?”
“SIS agents apparently,” Sattura replied with a smirk.
“I heard that,” Theron’s voice came from behind her, his tone held some amusement though he was attempting to sound the opposite.
“Oh! My most humble apologies,” Sattura tossed back at him, a slight chuckle in her voice. “I was referring to silly SIS agents who feel the need to add an air of mystery to everything.”
“Is that right? Well, that’s not me, clearly,” Theron said, his voice holding the sound of his smile. “I don’t need to add mystery. I’m the epitome of it.”
Seth snorted a laugh, “You’re so full of shit.”
“Guilty as charged.”
Sattura laughed as she glanced at her datapad, the screen dimmed so as not to burn out her eyes in this pitch dark. “We’re nearly there.”
“Remind me why we’re looking for a Jawa….at night?” Seth asked as they crested another sand dune.
“Because he’s not actually a Jawa,” Theron answered, stepping up to Sattura’s other side.
“That still doesn’t explain the night bit.”
“Because according to that silly SIS agent, Manzro refuses anyone seeking him during daylight,” Sattura said. “And he’s our best lead on finding out who tried to kill us on Bespin.”
thank you, friend! here is some sahar/xelara for you:
—
Sahar is exhausted.
Struggling to keep her eyes open, but she knows she must: there is still so much to be done, so many decisions to make—she still needs to meet with Rêzan and with Delal to sort out the appointment of the Mîr of a region she does not remember the name of.
There is so much to be done—but Xelara is so warm.
(Xelara had whisked her away from a meeting with the simple reasoning that “the Crown needs to rest” and her tone had been so decisive no one had bothered to argue with her, not even Sahar herself.)
“Sleep, my darling star.” A whisper, uncharacteristically fond and soft, and a brush of fingers against her hair.
The last thing Sahar knows before falling asleep is the soft, comforting warmth of fire against her skin.
featuring: agent rebecca greene (implied rebecca/rook)
word count: 545
note: CW for death mention, obviously. rebecca mourns badly.
Most days are numb.
Most days are a blur of minutiae; ballpoint pens scraping against paper, manila envelopes passed across tables, quiet engine roars over wheels speeding off to someplace insignificant. Someplace unknown to her.
Places where she’s unknown too.
In these towns, Rebecca can take off the suit and replace it with something more casual. She can let her hair, long and almost wavy, hang around her shoulders where his arm used to fall. The weight of “used to” is heavier with each passing day, and carrying it is not a choice so much as a sentence.
The load lightens when she gets to be a tourist in Nowhere Town, USA. She wanders through unfamiliar shop-lined streets that look unsettlingly similar to Wayhaven but shifted three feet to the left. She belongs here and doesn’t. She doesn’t know where she is, so who she is can slip away for a moment.
She’s not a bureaucrat playing at field agent tasks. She doesn’t know some of the biggest secrets in the world. She hasn’t just received a pity promotion to handle a team of vampires. She’s not an absent single mother. She’s not a widow.
She can stand to spend more than a weekend with her daughter, whose eyes are perfect replicas of Rook’s.
She’s not numb.
Her husband and child are both alive, happy, and they don’t miss her because she’s not gone. At least not for long.
A shop window, glowing golden and punched through with haphazard strings of holiday lights, catches her attention. Wooden letters covered in shimmering red and green glitter spell out “The Season For Giving” above a cozily manufactured scene of a Christmas tree surrounded by beautifully wrapped gifts.
Is it Christmas already? She barely measures time. Most days are a blur.
“‘The season for unnecessary debt,’ more like,” she says aloud and to no one, but he answers anyway.
“Don’t be such a grinch, Becks. Let’s get something for the tree.”
Rebecca nods, to no one again, or maybe to her reflection in the glass.
Inside, she buys the ornament--she doesn’t know how to choose, and Rook was always better at domesticity, so it’s a total guess--and the clerk doesn’t give her that knowing, sad smile everyone else does. They wrap the bauble in brightly-colored tissue and place it into a delicate gift box.
“For someone special?” They ask, and it’s the first small talk anyone’s attempted with Rebecca in months.
She smiles. The tightness of the unused muscles must show on her face from the way the clerk’s brow knits. “Yes, for my daughter... and my husband.”
Rebecca makes her way back to the dark, discreet agency car and tucks the package into the trunk. In the driver's seat, she pins her hair into the tidiest bun she can manage with only a rear-view mirror.
When she arrives at the next facility, she leaves everything in the car. The ornament, the tears, the part of her that is a tourist in her own life. She can’t take it with her, or she will break.
She reads a bone-dry report. She scratches through a note, rewrites it in meticulous print. She doesn’t talk about the very human way she misses her family.
Thank you, @confettininjabean, for sending this one!
From this Micro Prompts list - 49. nightfall
Twirling the pen in his hand, Vexx focused on the documents strewn over his desk. Occasionally he had stopped to rub at his stained eyes after hours of reading over every detail.
"Dear, it's nightfall already," Jay reminded, striding into his office with one of their children tucked into her arm. "Come, it's we should get to bed..."
"I will, I will," he assured, giving her a quick smile. "In ten minutes... One more -"
Ahh! Thanks Xen! <3 I don’t know how to feel about this because the premise is so cute, but djfkghskl I hope you enjoy the fluff!
Secret
The secret was knowing her stares coming from her eyes: the weary, the sleepy, the hungry, the hungover, the “if-you-try-that-one-more-time,so-help-me-god”.
It came from the tone of her voice, the way she walked, and ways she talked.
Was Catalina having a crisis? Was the paperwork stacking up?
Ever observant Mustang knew the secret to his Lieutenant and there will never be enough torture in the world to make him say.
Riza would laugh openly whenever he’d boast about his secret to making her smile.
Because he didn’t even realize the secret was simply him.
Send me a number & character(s) for a drabble of >10 sentences!
