#no163

[achicleos]

Galladrabbles

i'm still burned out from writing prose so you guys get another @galladrabbles poem, using the word grip, given to us by @darlingian this time! i imagine this to be post-s7, what happens if mickey gave up on ian and didn't snitch on the cartel to be with him in prison?

Please,

if there's a higher power out there,

rip my heart out and grip it between your claws.

Rid me of any yearning, of any longing, of any desire,

to see him safe,

to hear his laugh,

to feel his body against mine.

Unchain me from the burdens of memory, of human flaw.

Why am I nonexistent in his dreams, yet he's still a ghost in mine?

I scream for him,

I run on wobbly legs,

I beg on splintered knees.

Yet, the man who responds is merely a previous copy.

Is it really better to have loved and lost?

[suzy-queued]

Grip

@darlingian Thank you for this week's @galladrabbles prompt!

Last time, in The Lord and the Footman, they realized that this fake marriage would take a lot of hard work if they want to be convincing.

---

“So…” Ian squared himself. “How do I pretend you mean nothing to me?”

Disinterest should be easy. Ian didn’t know Mickey’s birthday or last name. They’d had mere minutes together. But the fireworks in his soul couldn’t be ignored.

“Step one.” Mickey dug into his shirt pocket, the one above his heart. “You’ll have to give this to her.” He gripped Ian’s signet ring firmly.

Holy hell. “But that’s yours. Forever.” 

“What made you think any of this would be easy?”

Ian hesitated. Nodded. Just an object, right? It meant nothing.

Dammitall, then why did his chest tighten so much?

[silvanshadow]

Galladrabbles: Grip

Thanks to @darlingian for this week's @galladrabbles prompt: Grip.

Continuing my Fantasy AU.

----

The Sellsword and the Mage, Part 71:

Mickey reluctantly agreed to stop at the next farm to rest. They traded news and coin for permission to sleep in the hayloft.

“There’s not enough miles between us and Uncle Ronnie.” Mickey shredded a piece of hay between his fingers.

Ian finished casting a protection ward and sat next to Mickey on the floor. “You don’t trust he’ll keep his word?”

“Not really.”     

Ian encouraged Mickey to lie down. He curled himself around the smaller man, locking an arm around his middle. Mickey took ahold of Ian’s wrist in a strong grip that didn’t loosen throughout the long night.

[galladrabbles]

Hello my dear drabblers! Tis I, your prompt giver for this week. After much deliberation, I have gone with:

Grip.

Hey Chani,

thank you for the new prompt. The last one in January - after a week full of "train"ing this new prompt should come easily to us!

Dear Galladrabbles writing crew - your prompt this week is:

GRIP

Happy Drabbling Everyone!