Drabbles for help_japan!
The following drabbles were written for agarmentofwings for help_japan's lightning round! Each drabble is preceded by the prompt that inspired it.
1) a Wolf's Rain drabble: angst, with focus on Kiba and Cheza... I'd prefer something set more towards the end of the series (end of the world/beginning of its regeneration)
There's no such thing as Paradise. There's only snow and the scent of gunpowder-and the scent of temptation, of a promise, somewhere out of reach.
She's calling me.
My family, my pack, burned alive. I alone survived. Again, in my search for Paradise, I found a new pack. But now Toboe, Hige, and Tsume are-gone. Gone.
She's calling me.
The world has to hibernate before we can reach Paradise. There is no Paradise. There's snow, the scent of blood, the stench of death-
She's calling me. She's calling me.
I feel the world being remade around me, feel myself being remade. I stagger to my feet and stick out my nose, searching for her scent. We'd just been reunited. We'd finally been rejoined, two searching halves, questing always for one another, for Paradise.
I know there is no Paradise, but she's calling me. I have to search.
I close my eyes and am reborn, knowing only the need to find her-Paradise.
2) a scene from The Kid... I want to see Romano clothes shopping for Freddy.
He's going to hate me.
I run my hands over the suits, assessing the fabric, the stitching. It has to be perfect.
Freddy's smile, bright and trusting, glows in my mind's eye, and I shove the suit back onto the rack. Not good enough. None of them are good enough!
I slam the door behind me as I leave the third store in a row without buying anything. I know the real problem-I'm not good enough. I'm rude and crass and don't make friends as quickly as my brother; I know every curse word in every language, and I made a few up myself. I'm not good with kids. I wasn't even a good kid myself.
Grandpa liked Feliciano better. Austria pawned me off to Spain, who just liked me because he wanted a lackey. No one has ever gotten close to me because they like me as a person. No one. Not even Feliciano, who gets along with everyone. They'll probably all celebrate when I kick the bucket!
So why did Freddy smile at me like that?
I pause, my hand hovering over a perfectly cut suit. It's just the right size for Freddy, I'm sure, and the color would suit his hair, bring out the color in his eyes.
Maybe I don't have anything to offer him. I touch the fabric, weighing it in my hands. Maybe he doesn't care. My hands close over the suit. Maybe-maybe I don't have to care.
I grab the suit and run to the register, shoving people out of the way until I'm first in line, shouting at the clerk to give me a g-d-ed box already.
F- if I'm going to miss his birthday party!
3)Wolf's Rain - Quent(Blue's owner, the wolf-hunter), wolves and dogs (something about how he likes dogs but blames wolves for killing his family but cares about and tries to protect Blue even after he finds out she is part wolf (the Quent:"You're not my dog anymore!" Blue:"You can't mean that!" scene made me cry)...I also liked when one of the wolves saved Quent from hypothermia and Quent (semi-conscious) thought it was Blue)
“You saved me, kid.”
I cough into the wolf's fur. It's cold out-like the night this wolf saved me. Blue's face swims across my vision-woman-wolf-puppy-
The world is blurry and pale, and the wolf's body is growing cold; my arm tingles, asleep under his head. I pull him closer, trying to warm him up by draping my other arm over him. Maybe I can shield him from some of the snow.
A wolf's face glows in my mind's eye, surrounded by fire. I knew then it was too late to save my family-it's too late to save the wolf. All I had was Blue.
“You're not my dog any more!”
She's not. Her face-a woman's face, a disguise-floats just out of reach.
“I'm sorry,” I cough, burying my face into the wolf's fur. I can't feel my body; I'm floating. I'm stretched out on an endless field of soft, green grass. Nearby the wolf is resting his head on an old woman's lap. As I watch, my son runs out-I can't question it, but my heart stutters and then stops-stops-stops-and somehow I'm on my feet, holding out my arms to him. His embrace feels like a sigh, like the release of a breath I'd been holding for a decade and never noticed.
The wolf-that-is-not-Blue gets to his feet, and suddenly he is a boy, too. My son pulls away from me, and they play.
I settle back onto the grass and watch them, basking in the perfect, endless sunlight.
“Wolves lead the way to Paradise, huh?” I say, stroking the grass; it feels like a wolf's pelt. “Maybe they aren't so bad.”
1) a Wolf's Rain drabble: angst, with focus on Kiba and Cheza... I'd prefer something set more towards the end of the series (end of the world/beginning of its regeneration)
There's no such thing as Paradise. There's only snow and the scent of gunpowder-and the scent of temptation, of a promise, somewhere out of reach.
She's calling me.
My family, my pack, burned alive. I alone survived. Again, in my search for Paradise, I found a new pack. But now Toboe, Hige, and Tsume are-gone. Gone.
She's calling me.
The world has to hibernate before we can reach Paradise. There is no Paradise. There's snow, the scent of blood, the stench of death-
She's calling me. She's calling me.
I feel the world being remade around me, feel myself being remade. I stagger to my feet and stick out my nose, searching for her scent. We'd just been reunited. We'd finally been rejoined, two searching halves, questing always for one another, for Paradise.
I know there is no Paradise, but she's calling me. I have to search.
I close my eyes and am reborn, knowing only the need to find her-Paradise.
2) a scene from The Kid... I want to see Romano clothes shopping for Freddy.
He's going to hate me.
I run my hands over the suits, assessing the fabric, the stitching. It has to be perfect.
Freddy's smile, bright and trusting, glows in my mind's eye, and I shove the suit back onto the rack. Not good enough. None of them are good enough!
I slam the door behind me as I leave the third store in a row without buying anything. I know the real problem-I'm not good enough. I'm rude and crass and don't make friends as quickly as my brother; I know every curse word in every language, and I made a few up myself. I'm not good with kids. I wasn't even a good kid myself.
Grandpa liked Feliciano better. Austria pawned me off to Spain, who just liked me because he wanted a lackey. No one has ever gotten close to me because they like me as a person. No one. Not even Feliciano, who gets along with everyone. They'll probably all celebrate when I kick the bucket!
So why did Freddy smile at me like that?
I pause, my hand hovering over a perfectly cut suit. It's just the right size for Freddy, I'm sure, and the color would suit his hair, bring out the color in his eyes.
Maybe I don't have anything to offer him. I touch the fabric, weighing it in my hands. Maybe he doesn't care. My hands close over the suit. Maybe-maybe I don't have to care.
I grab the suit and run to the register, shoving people out of the way until I'm first in line, shouting at the clerk to give me a g-d-ed box already.
F- if I'm going to miss his birthday party!
3)Wolf's Rain - Quent(Blue's owner, the wolf-hunter), wolves and dogs (something about how he likes dogs but blames wolves for killing his family but cares about and tries to protect Blue even after he finds out she is part wolf (the Quent:"You're not my dog anymore!" Blue:"You can't mean that!" scene made me cry)...I also liked when one of the wolves saved Quent from hypothermia and Quent (semi-conscious) thought it was Blue)
“You saved me, kid.”
I cough into the wolf's fur. It's cold out-like the night this wolf saved me. Blue's face swims across my vision-woman-wolf-puppy-
The world is blurry and pale, and the wolf's body is growing cold; my arm tingles, asleep under his head. I pull him closer, trying to warm him up by draping my other arm over him. Maybe I can shield him from some of the snow.
A wolf's face glows in my mind's eye, surrounded by fire. I knew then it was too late to save my family-it's too late to save the wolf. All I had was Blue.
“You're not my dog any more!”
She's not. Her face-a woman's face, a disguise-floats just out of reach.
“I'm sorry,” I cough, burying my face into the wolf's fur. I can't feel my body; I'm floating. I'm stretched out on an endless field of soft, green grass. Nearby the wolf is resting his head on an old woman's lap. As I watch, my son runs out-I can't question it, but my heart stutters and then stops-stops-stops-and somehow I'm on my feet, holding out my arms to him. His embrace feels like a sigh, like the release of a breath I'd been holding for a decade and never noticed.
The wolf-that-is-not-Blue gets to his feet, and suddenly he is a boy, too. My son pulls away from me, and they play.
I settle back onto the grass and watch them, basking in the perfect, endless sunlight.
“Wolves lead the way to Paradise, huh?” I say, stroking the grass; it feels like a wolf's pelt. “Maybe they aren't so bad.”