True Blood Fic Drabbles
1. Pick a character, pairing.
2. Turn your music player on and turn it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a drabblet/ficlet related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over.
4. Do ten of these, then post them.
Flat on the Floor
The hotel is amazing, no sunlight, which means that Bill can sleep whenever he wants. The realization that she'd come to, that they'd never be allowed to have breakfast together, is no longer a sad weight, as they're able keep what hours they wish here.
It's a welcome break, and spending time away from Bon Temps seems to cement their relationship, makes it seem more real and grounded. This is something that a normal couple would do together.
It's incredible that the passage of time doesn't dampen her desire for him, and she has the silly need to have him everywhere: the bed, the shower, the floor. She wonders if making love is always this wonderful, or if she's just gotten lucky.
Red Red Sun
The lighting in Fangtasia is tinted red, like the setting sun over a bloody battlefield.
Eric is his elder, his sheriff, which only adds to Bill's frustration at the blond's attitude. He straddles the line between mainstreaming and a more sinister lifestyle, using and discarding humans as he chooses.
This bar that's been set up is just an easy way for Eric to choose new prey.
If Bill had his way, he'd just as soon never see the older man again.
What is is between them, this rivalry that causes Eric to interfere? He cares little for the sycophant blond he keeps company with, or anyone else for that matter. But it's obvious that there's something there as far as Bill Compton is concerned.
A Hazy Shade of Winter
Dreams reach up to swallow him whole. Erotic dreams. He'd been so afraid that after all he's been through, his dreams would be colored with fear and blood, gunshots and desperation. But what comes upon him is much worse than that.
Flashing eyes, cruel lips, and demanding hands, his nights are spent amidst tangled sheets and gasping breaths. His dream world no longer belongs to him, his subconscious self forgetting reason and anger.
He's overcome, and as his waking mind struggles to understand why Eric decided to bleed for him, his dreams are filled with passion and hate.
The beautiful young God teaches him everything. He looks boyish, but his tattooed flesh houses an old soul.
With him, Eric learns the thrill of the hunt, and the ways of glamour, which can bring anything you could possibly desire.
Eric is a fighter, but with faster movements and sharper senses it's a whole new world, and Godric teaches him how to make use of these things in combat.
He loves his new life, an extension of everything he'd lived for as a human. Above all, he loves his maker, with a sharpness that will never leave him. Respect for all that he is, and an insatiable desire for the beauty of his form entrench inside of him, staying as all other cares fall away.
So the Story Goes
They say that underneath her beautiful smile, Dawn Green is a trashy kind of girl with no morals or self respect. But he's has never seen her that way.
She's friendly and honest, and despite the bad things people say about her, Hoyt's never had such a longstanding crush. He tries to work up the nerve to ask her out. He wants to bring her flowers, take her to the movies, or just sit and listen to her talk.
Her name suits her. She is as lovely as the first light of day breaking over the cold land of cypress.
He understands Jason completely, knows exactly who and what he is, but it makes no difference. Just as so many women have been taken in by his charm and good looks, Lafayette finds it all too easy to overlook an endless sea of character flaws and desire the temporary involvement that is all you can hope for from a man like him.
He's a mess, really. Too worried about his own selfish existence to look after his little sister or make something of his life. But there's a lot to be said about living in the moment.
The blond who'd let him in the door was all kinds of intriguing. He's always gone for dark haired women, but looking across the bar at her now, he realized that he'd love to make her the exception.
Perhaps it's her cold disdain of him, her ambiguous accent, or maybe it was simply all that he'd read about sex with her kind coalescing inside his brain to paint a picture so raw, he felt like cutting himself here, just to see if his blood would draw her in.
Perhaps she'd used her powers to hypnotize him. Didn't really matter. Whatever it was, he'd never wanted anything like he wanted her, and everything she could give him.
Lost in the Shadows
In the unending search for lasting love, they are both familiar with casual relationships, sex without emotion, brief and unfulfilling.
But there's a line you don't cross, people who mean too much, and the part of Jason that thinks before he acts doesn't allow him to even look at Tara the same way he does other women.
Just as part of Tara knows that if she were to push, Jason would be open for a good time. But she couldn't bear the aftermath, so she allows him to remain a friend and a fantasy, and nothing more.
As soon as she enters the bar, she knows that he's the one she wants to take home. One long look, and she's made up her mind.
Men and women fall over themselves trying to gain his attention. He's bored and cold to them, with the eyes of a wolf, which swing in her direction as she sits at the bar, looking at him, looking at her. One foot in strappy heels swings from her stool as she slowly licks red painted lips, playing with the straw in her drink, which has too much tequila in it.
He's sexy and mysterious, and any number of people here would die to take him to bed. But where they'd failed, Dawn knew she'd get what she wanted. She always did.
Sookie wiped down the last table, her mind already on its way home to Gran. Removing her apron, she stepped outside ahead of Sam, who got the lights and locked up. Taking a deep breath, she stretched, thinking about all the bonuses that came along with working the night shift. Tomorrow she could sleep in, then lay out in the sun; the days were hers, and right now the night seemed heavy with possibilities.
Behind her, Sam watched her lift her face to the moon, which was only a few days shy of being full. His hand reached out to touch her, then dropped at his side. She smiled and waved before heading to her car, oblivious to the torment inside him. Sometimes he wanted her to see into the deepest parts of him. But mostly, he hoped she'd never know.