StephenT (stormwreath) wrote,

Seven drabbles

My latest seven drabbles, cross-posted here from [info]open_on_sunday

Two contrasting views of Willow for the prompt 'making preparations':

Making Preparations

“Okay, got my number two pencil. And I’d better take you, my trusty pencil sharpener, in case I write too much which, y’know, often happens. In fact better take a second pencil as well in case the first gets too teeny tiny.
“Um. Pens. Better take several colours so I can colour-code stuff. And a ruler and compass. And maybe my pocket calculator?”

Across the room, Tara was looking increasingly worried. “Are w-we supposed to be having an exam today? Because they n-never said - ?”

“Huh? Oh, no. End of term pop quiz. But I like to be prepared…”


She stares at the paper in growing horror. She doesn’t know any of this stuff! It’s not fair. She would have revised more if it wasn’t for – no. Don’t say her name. But she can’t fail this!

Back in her room, a heavy textbook suddenly topples off the shelf and flips open to the chapter on operant conditioning. Then, reluctantly, it closes again. Pride, not ethics. She’s too good at this to need to cheat, dammit.

White-knuckled, she grips her pencil… SNAP!

Crap. She forgot her sharpener!

For a brief second her eyes flash black as the pencil sharpens itself…


Another study in contrasts, this one of Melaka Fray (from 'Fray'), for the prompt 'leftovers':

Second Meeting

The gritty pavement scrapes her cheek raw, copper blood taste in her mouth. She looks into his face and icy hands squeeze her heart.

She knows him. She's seen him a thousand times. She's killed him a hundred different ways. Hunted him down for revenge. Saved her brother's life.

And now he's right here and about all she can manage is to keep from wetting herself in terror.

"What's the matter, Melaka? Not pleased to see me?

She forces out words. “You – you killed Harth.”

“’Killed’? I ate him. You were leftovers. But now…” he grins coldly, “I’m hungry again.”

Just Another Day

She's coming back from a grab in the Uppers, ‘cause fighting lurks is fun but it don't keep a girl in solid. And then three of them jump her. Maybe she senses them on account of she's the Slayer, or just hears their footsteps, but the scythe she keeps hooked through her shirt is in her hand and through the first one's heart before it knows it's dead. The other two follow, and she grins. Could be leftovers from the big battle, or might maybe her brother’s planning something new. Who cares? She's alive. They're not. Gonna stay that way.

For the prompt 'Elvis song titles', I picked the song 'I Was Born About Ten Thousand Years Ago' for this:


She had a family once.

Dead now. Some at their hands. Some at hers, later. Some lost to time.

She had a home once.

Now no place can shelter her. Nothing can confine her.

She had friends once.

Taken from her. Useless distractions. Weaknesses.

She had freedom once.

Now she has purpose. She kills. She has become death.

She had a body once.

Now she has none, and all. She lives in the moment of slaughter. She lives in the bodies of her sisters, her children. Her prison. Her immortality. Chains tying her to the earth.

She had hope once.

For the prompt 'memorial', two completely different looks at Buffy's life post-Chosen:

For the Fallen

It started as just another of Andrew’s ideas. But somehow this one had caught on.

           They shall not grow old, as we who are left grow old.

The words always brought a bittersweet smile to her lips; they seemed so ironic. They wouldn’t have, anyway...

           Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

...even if they’d been given the chance.

           At the going down of the sun and in the morning,

Things we never shared, that we never could share.

           We shall remember them.

She took the poppy from her lapel, gently kissed it then let it fall.


The Splendour that was Rome

"Ooh! Look! Look! That's the Arch of Titus! Let's have a closer look!"

Dawn practically dragged her sister bodily across the baking-hot stones of the forum.

"Dawnie, it's a big, white, stone thing. Like the four others we've seen this morning."

"Yeah, but this one's really historic, 'cause it was built to commemorate the Sack of Jerusalem, y'know? And the destruction of the Second Temple?
"Did you even bother to, like, read any of the guidebooks we bought?"

"Yes of course! I learned lots of really really important things!”

“Such as?”

“Like, um, where the best shoe shops are..."


Tags: buffy, fic
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