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Mama Deb
mamadeb
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December 2010
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Mama Deb [userpic]
Drabbles 1-4

fairestcat requested

Bel Thorne - Choice

It was used to be part of a minority. That's what Bel told itself when it settled with Nicole. Outside of their own little community, hermaphrodites stood out on Beta Colony. Oh, they were fully accepted there - they did whatever job they wanted, they lived where they wanted, and no Betan would *ever* think that being both man and woman was wrong or weird. And, yes, it was unique in the mercenaries, but it was also a captain-owner, and a confidant of the Admiral.

It was used to being a minority, but they couldn't chose that for their children.

lmondegreen requested

Hermione - Questions and Answers

Ron asked her under the trees in his parent's garden. She said, "No," and walked away.

He asked her again in the heat of battle, between casting hexes and dodging curses. She kissed him and said, "No," but stayed by his side.

The funerals went on forever. They buried those they could name, burned those they couldn't, and memorialized those they could remember - even those they didn't want to remember. Harry's was longest and hardest to bear. Ron stood beside her and held her hand, not understanding all the fuss, and she wept for the answers she couldn't give.

bubbles1 requested

Rudolphus Lestrange - Never His

Food. Cold, thin, barely enough, but food. Food came - They brought the food and the darkness and the water and the pain, and they left, leaving the food and the water and he gobbled it down and cried because crying was all he could do, and there were flashes of long dark hair, long dark hair and dangerous eyes and a body lush.

Never his. Never his. Always His. He was His. He was gone.

They came. They came and the door was opened and she was there, long dark hair and never his and always His to serve.

rynia requested

Teyla - Sparring

Block. Parry. Block. Kick. Evade. Sticks up, sticks down, move in, move out.

Skirt moving over her legs, hair swinging. Move. Parry. Hit.

Anticipate each move, never take your eyes off your opponent, never lower your guard, always return to position.

Never lower your guard, no matter who is in front of you, no matter how you care. Never let them know you know fear - not the new friends, not the old ones, not the enemy who sent you away from home. Keep yourself apart from them. Only let them see a face of calm stone.

Block. Move. Parry.

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Comments



Oooh, that Hermione one was so eerily tragic.

If you don't do mine, does that mean I'm off the hook? I'm beginning to think I've bit off more than I can chew with this.

I *will* write yours, b"n, but you're off the hook anyway. I should have said that in my original post.

I wish you had! I can't write on random prompts to save my life, but I ♥ your Wm. Bush like no tomorrow.

Consider it done. You shall be #8.

EEEE!!! Thanks!

Oh, do you have Black Hound friended?

If not, you might want to look at this after work, unless boys kissing with their clothes on is OK where you work:

http://black-hound.livejournal.com/150743.html

How sad! And beautiful! Thank you :-)

I don't know if it's possible to write a happy postwar fic. At least, not for me.

(no subject) - (Anonymous)

Yeah. I know.