rthstewart | Three Sentence Ficathon Part 2

Entry tags:

Three Sentence Ficathon Part 2

THE 2021 3 SENTENCE FICATHON IS NOW CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS!

THIS IS THE NEW POST FOR PART 2 OF THE 3 SENTENCE FICATHON -- ALL NEW PROMPTS SHOULD BE POSTED HERE
You may continue to fill prompts (but not leave new ones) at the original Post 1 here.

conuly 's unclaimed prompt list here

Thank you all for participating! We had a rush of prompts at the end so be sure to check it out and if you want someone to fill something in particular, and assuming they don't mind being contacted (I know I don't!), be sure to let them know!

Welcome to the Three Sentence Ficathon!
2 Feb. 2021 See important edit below regarding where to find unfilled prompts.

What is the 3 Sentence Ficathon?
This is an open exchange where you answer a prompt with a fic consisting of only three sentences. It's open to all fandoms and you can post and fill as many prompts as you like, as many times as you want.

What do I do first?
You can start 3SF by posting prompts! When posting a prompt please format it this way:

fandom, character(s), prompt word/sentence.

Only one prompt per comment please. So, for example,

Star Wars, Obi-Wan Kenobi, I don't like sand."

Open ended and anthropomorphic fills are popular too, such as:

Any, Any, "I don't like sand."

or

Earth geography, sand, "I don't like humans very much, either."

What happens after that?
You answer other posters' prompts in three sentences (or more if you can't stop yourself) and fill as many prompts as you want, as many times as you wish. If you see that a prompt you loved has already been filled, go ahead and fill it again! Multiple fills of the same prompt are allowed and even encouraged! (We get really fun stories going this way).

Can I still post if I need more than 3 sentences? Or should I just abuse grammar in ways the English language never contemplated?
Yes. Yes.

But I'm not a member of Dreamwidth
No problem. You can comment anonymously or through open ID

I'm really overwhelmed by all the prompts and how much there is and how fast it goes. I can't read 1,000 prompts and fills. It's too much.
I hear this a lot and it keeps a lot of people from participating. The 3SF is big and it moves fast, especially at first. I get overwhelmed, too, and I'm hosting the thing. With 2020 and 2021 sucking so badly you don't want something that's supposed to be fun cause you anxiety. I have a couple of suggestions for managing the 3SF volume.

First, really, you don't have to read every prompt and fill on every page. You can start at the last page of this and just go forward, or back a page or two. It's fine.
You can come and go as time and energy allow, you don't have to participate the whole time, and it drops off quite a bit by mid-February.
Even after the 3SF and new prompting end, people fill prompts all year long.
You can fill an already filled prompt and you can can leave a prompt that's already been prompted before. People do it all the time.

Always make sure you're looking at top-level comments only, not threaded. That helps a lot. Your screen should look like this.

But shouldn't I read everything to see if someone already prompted the same prompt I want to leave if someone already filled it?
No. Prompt as many times as you want, as much as you want. It doesn't matter if someone prompted the exact same prompt. Go ahead and prompt again!

I left a prompt and no one filled it. Can I prompt it again?
Absolutely!

Can I spread the word?
Yes, please. I generally fail at creating banners and embed codes but if you create one and make it really idiot-proof, I might be able to post and share it. Feel free to cross-post this entry. If you create your own banners or icons, let me know and I'll share!
Please share the 3SF with your followers, friends, and any channels and comms you are active on. I'll post on fandom calendar, Tumblr, and Twitter, but I don't have many connections in other spaces such as Discord.

How long will it go?
The 3SF closes to new prompts on February 28, 2021. The entry stays open permanently and people post fills all year long.

Are there any rules about cross-posting?
Nope, you can post wherever you want, whenever you want. A lot of folks collected their responses together and posted them on AO3 under the 3 sentence fiction tag. 3SFs are a terrific prompt for remixes and could be helpful for Yuletide bears, too.

What about spoilers, content and archive warnings, triggers, pairings, ratings, tags, and squick?

I thought a lot about this. It boils down to reader beware. In my experience, this typically gets too big, moves too fast, and the stories are too short for content warnings and ratings to even apply. It is too big for me to moderate in this way. You should assume spoilers are fair game and that the initial poster and the responder have opted to use no content warnings or tags. This means AO3 content warnings for dubcon, violence, canon character death, underage, etc. COULD be present. I've found personally that I can skim and scroll by stuff that, from the prompt, I can tell isn't my favorite flavor of delicious cake. Use your best judgment and be prepared to skip over things that aren't your thing. In this format, the obligation is on you, the reader, to protect yourself from triggering content.
Some posters do include warnings and spoiler tags in subject lines or include spoiler space, but they don't have to do so.

Why is 3SF split among several posts? That seems confusing.
It is confusing and we always lose momentum once we have to move to a second post. The reason is because at 5,000 comments to a single post, DW installs a human test CAPTCHA, which is a pain for users. So, once this entry gets to the upper 4,000 comments, I open a new post. If you've been waiting until things slow down to participate, when we open a second post is often a good place to join.

If I have questions, what do I do?
I'm rthstewart everywhere, here, Twitter, Tumblr, gmail and AO3.

A special thank you to

conuly .
Last year, Conuly started logging all unfilled prompts.
This year's (2021) unfilled prompts are here.
Last year's (2020) unfilled prompts are here.

Conuly does this just because she is an awesome person but should you want to write her fic in thanks, you can find a birthday wish list here.

Here is the 3SF 2021 Friending Meme to show of your new DW account.

Here, have some icons and banners and let me know if you've created your own!

text box you can try to cut and paste

<a href="https://rthstewart.dreamwidth.org/168256.html" _fcksavedurl="https://rthstewart.dreamwidth.org/168256.html" _fcksavedurl="https://rthstewart.dreamwidth.org/168256.html" _fcksavedurl="https://rthstewart.dreamwidth.org/168256.html" target="_blank"><img src=" https://imgur.com/f3B21LX.png?2" _fcksavedurl=" https://imgur.com/f3B21LX.png?2" _fcksavedurl=" https://imgur.com/f3B21LX?2" _fcksavedurl=" https://imgur.com/f3B21LX.png?2" alt="" /></a>

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Final Fantasy IX, Zidane + Mikoto + Kuja, family get-together

To be completely honest, when Kuja thought he'd laid dying, part of him had wished that he'd been better to the other Genomes. Not a big part, mind you, since he was mostly in extreme agony and emotionally broken with his latest failure, but when Zidane had sat with him, even used his own body to shield him, part of him ached for a bond he knew he'd been robbed of--by their creator and by his own deeds.

And yet, despite surviving almost purely by Zidane's obstinance, he wasn't quite sure how to he was going to avoid homicide as Mikoto sat, softly reading aloud from a book, while Zidane sat on the other side of his sickbed and smirked as he said "see, now, ain't this just cozy?"

Cackles! I really loved the tragic emotions in the first paragraph, that wistful what-if, only to be immediately like "wait i take it back" bc kuja now has to deal with these two kids :D having siblings to annoy you is good for your character, kuja!

thank you so much, this is everything i wanted and more.

Final Fantasy IX, Vivi + Kuja (+Zidane? +Mikoto?), awkward family get-together

Power Rangers (2017), any, mermaid AU

Any, any, this haiku

The snow is melting
and the village is flooded
with children.

Life returns to limbs
once frozen from cold or stone:
joy stings as it thaws.
—
Cold-clumsy at dawn,
river-racing by midday:
spring runs in our veins.
—
The river gods weep
overcome with their freedom.
The floodwaters rise.
—
The snow melts quickly.
Children swear to play in it
next winter.

I like that!

Beautiful!

So lovely!

Cyan frowns, the wrinkles in his forehead deepening. "It appears," he says, "that there are more of them than before. I had thought there was only one couple here of childbearing age -"

"No," says Terra, and she laughs. "They're just livelier. Happier."

Oh, this is darling. The children are happier now. :D I love it.

The Polyhedron forbids the parents of the Town from even thinking about her, much less the children she has stolen from them. Their minds just skate over the thought and they find themselves changing the subject, only regretting their neglect later on.

The Commander’s feet go slow and when he enters that grand structure he doesn’t think crystal, as so many have suggested, but ice; it would creak under his boots so he removes them, and as his bare feet touch the smooth ground he shivers, not from cold.

ooh some lovely imagery here, the way the parents' thoughts skate over the polyhedron like ice, and block shivering as he steps on it, but not from the cold ... it's so eerie and perfect.

Oz books (L. Frank Baum), Ozma, poppies

A 9-sentence fill

-----

Ozma only learned about the poppy field by accident, overhearing the Scarecrow and Nick Chopper reminisce about their journey with Dorothy and wonder idly if the flowers are still there; that struck her as a question worth answering, but not important enough to assemble a Royal Progress, so she rode out to look at the poppy field accompanied only by the Sawhorse which, of course, could not be affected by their sleep-inducing scent.

Death was rare in Oz, so rare as to be nearly impossible, and the poppies' lure of repose was nigh overpowering, yet as Ozma and the Sawhorse wandered through the brilliant expanse of red blossoms, they found no slumbering bodies under the swaying stems and leaves -- either the poppies' victims had sunk into the earth entire, or someone with magical protection (or no need to breathe) had been collecting them.

"Which do you suppose is more likely, old friend?" Ozma asked the Sawhorse, one hand resting lightly on her Magic Belt.

"I have no knowledge on which to base a guess," the Sawhorse said, pawing idly at the base of a poppy stalk with one wooden leg, "but I can stay and keep watch; sooner or later someone will fall asleep and then we'll know what happens."

Ozma considered this, then nodded: "It's my royal duty to remove my enchantments and let the poppies' power affect me," she said; "I cannot let any of my subjects risk this danger unaware, and if we return to the Emerald City to ask for a volunteer, who knows what might occur while we are gone?"

"Royal duty sounds terribly unpleasant," the Sawhorse said, but it agreed to Ozma's plan so long as she used her Magic Belt to send a message to the Scarecrow before she fell asleep.

As she removed her enchantments and lay on the soft ground between and beneath the swaying poppies, Ozma wondered how long their perfume would need to take effect, not to mention how long before whatever fate befell the other sleepers would claim her in its turn.

The poppies' scent was heavy and warm, rich without cloying, and Ozma stared upward at the red petals bobbing, the green leaves fluttering, the blue sky and white clouds beyond, all melding into a strangely familiar swirl of color and scent and that echoed behind her slowly closing eyes.

As her mind unmoored from the tethers of the waking world, she realized this swooning, dizzy whirl felt almost exactly like Mombi's spell that had changed her from Tip to Ozma, and had one moment to wonder what body she would wake in before she drifted into the unmapped sea of sleep.

This is great!

Thanks! :D

Winter's Orbit*, Jainan, locked doors

* This is the published version of the Ao3 original "The Course of Honour". Either is acceptable.

Winter's Orbit, Jainan, therapy

Winter's Orbit, Jainan/Kiem OR Jainan and Kiem, home for the holidays

Any, any, relationship between a ballet dancer and a pro wrestler

Anastasia, Anya, scents of tea rose, jasmine, lilac, and violets (each of OTMA's favourite fragrances)

Pokemon, Ash & Pikachu, home is where heart is

Ash hadn’t been home for years, not since the day he started out on his adventure. He typically didn’t think of it much, he typically didn’t think of it at all. Sometimes though, when he would say goodbye to someone he met on his travels they would mention their own plans to return to their family and he would be violently – startingly reminded of his mother back in Pallet Town. Then Pikachu would squeak and Ash would be brought back to the here and now, grinning at his best friend and heading back into his grand adventure. Who needed a house anyway when your friends were near you?

The Goblin Emperor, Maia, making peace

They call him Edrehasivar the Bridge-Builder, now, or Edrehasivar the Kind. They speak of his mercy, his courtesy in extending his hand to the steppe barbarians and allowing them into his empire, even setting aside a new mountaintop for their ulimeire.

They don't mention the looks he saw passing between his daughter, his precious Chenelo, and the Nazhmorhathveran ambassador--warm, interested looks. Nor do they mention his daughter's marriage as anything other than a political match to seal this new alliance. But Maia knows, and his family (yes, including his new sharp-toothed son-in-law) knows, and when they begin to call him Edrehasivar the Peacemaker, laying the successful treaty at his feet, he smiles and doesn't correct them.

Oh, Maia. ♥

HE'S A GOOD BOY AND WE LOVE HIM

The Goblin Emperor, any, wishes

Any fantasy, any, when the game is over, the king and the pawn go back in the same box

Sam never does get used to the way Strider - the King, that is, bows to him whenever they meet, rare though that may be - whether it be at the coronation in Gondor or the meeting at the Brandywine Bridge all those years later, it just doesn’t sit right with him.

It’s the Queen who notices his dull red blush, the way he shakes his head and mutters to himself, “Ain’t right, that the likes of him should bow to the likes of me.”

Arwen smiles at him, and takes his hand (and bless his Rosie; at least all the years looking at her beautiful face mean he doesn’t blush any harder, even with a Queen pressing his hand), and says, “It is my husband’s belief, and mine as well, that the smallest among us often walk the hardest path, all unsung; he honors you as a King to a hero, as is your right.”

Aww, this is lovely!

I really loved this. Humble Sam and the King. Your Sam pov here is also terrific.

Awwwww this is so sweet!

oh man this made me tear up, i absolutely love it. thank youuuuu

Ah, this is gorgeous.

;_; lovely

They’re both going to die – Laertes from the poison already pumping through his veins, and Claudius because it was clear from his grim little smile after Gertrude drank from the poisoned cup that he’s not planning to survive this.

But he’s also going to die because, well – Laertes will never confess who’s killed Hamlet’s father, and he’d have been willing to take the full blame for Hamlet’s own death, but not even Hamlet deserves the horrible uncertainty over what’s happened to his mother.

He meets Claudius’s eyes before he betrays him, begging him to understand, begging him to run, though he knows he never will, and he watches the king’s face close up tight, never to open again.

oh ow. there's this feeling of inexorable tragedy, claudius's grim little smile, laertes's conviction urging him on, he has to confess and though he knows none of them are getting out alive, he still wishes claudius could. and 'he watches the king’s face close up tight, never to open again.' ow.

Harry Potter, Draco in the muggle world, "wow, that's* really messed up"

* "That" is any Very Normal Wizard/Hogwarts Thing that's, well, really messed up.

It had taken a couple of hops through the Floo Network but he and Hermione had finally emerged on the west side of New York City for what she assured him was the best pizza in the world.

It was really good and she showed him how to fold it to eat it properly and bought a New York Times for them to read while they ate and he only mocked the paper twice for no moving pictures when…what the hell?

He pointed to the Politics page, aghast, “Am I reading this right that the American head of state can be a different party than their Parliament?!”

Of all the various options, that's not the one that occurred to me.

I've got an N problem on my computer. That line about WHAT they are from different PARTIES! is a true life moment with the father of my brother in law who had No Idea and that it was absolutely barking mad.

Well, it's not like the UK is winning the functionality race here....

(Though I admit that from just-barely-out-of-2020 it's still too close to call.)

The referee flashed a rectangle of yellow, swiftly followed by one of red, to the cheers of the crowd.

"What's that mean?" Draco said.

"He's been dismissed for persistent infringement, and now Arsenal will have to play the rest of the match with ten," Eric said, leaving Draco to contemplate how none of the seven hundred plus fouls in Quidditch, no matter how vile, came with any instruction to the referee to expel a player for committing them.

Star Trek: Voyager, Naomi Wildman, homesick

Earth was nice. More than nice, it was fun. The crew of Voyager had been received as heroes. The parties and congratulations and questions didn't stop for weeks, or months for the Captain.

To Naomi, it seemed to be more than the logical happiness of finding long-lost friends. There was an attempt to not discuss the news in front of her, but that was hard to do, and Seven could always be trusted to answer any questions those attempts left.

There was a war. An ugly one. A lot of people died. So Earth, and Bajor, and Vulcan, and Qo'noS, they all needed some good news.

And Naomi was happy to be part of it! She got to meet her grandparents and cousins, got to play with more children than she had ever seen in her life, and taste food that, while not quite Neelix's, was pretty good.

But a part of her, one she was a little ashamed of, wished Voyager had taken just a little longer to return.

The crew got together every few months or so, and everyone called each other often. The Captain never went more than a week without chatting with Naomi and her mom, and Seven visited every other week. The Doctor too. She made friends with Tuvok's grandchildren last week.

It was all very nice. But it wasn't like Voyager had been. Somehow, Naomi knew things would never quite be like that again.

Ohh, this is lovely! Naomi! <3

Thank you! Naomi is such an interesting character, I'm very curious to know what happened to her after getting back to Earth, and specially by Picard's time.

Oh no, i'm crying. Naomi's story has always seemed one of the most heartwrenching ones, for just exactly this reason.

Yep, Naomi was born in a starship and only knew life there, that's gotta have some effect on a person, especially once the crew go their separate ways. Tho I do have a headcanon that the Voyager crew remained really close.

Harry Potter, any, "Let's tear down the Statute. It's rotten to the core."

Post-war, post-Hogwarts, and pre-wedding (because Hermione certainly wasn't going to marry before she finished her education), Hermione sat for a degree at the London School of Economics and Political Science, and took a flat with a classmate named Maggie Okoro. It was the most Muggle thing she could have done, and late nights at the pub with Maggie and her friends, and arguing into the early hours about policy and ethics over cold chips while Maggie cajoled the crochety kettle into action -- well, it cleared the fog of the Wizarding World from her mind like nothing else could have.

She didn't think her Hogwarts friends really understood how her thinking was changing, and there was no way to warn them, much less convince them -- so she didn't, and simply mailed the treatise to Rita Skeeter to pass on to the editorial page editor. The Statute of Secrecy: A Modest Proposal was an innocuous enough title, she thought: for anyone who didn't know their Swift, at least.

By the time I finished Deathly Hallows, I figured they needed to burn the Wizarding World down start over. So glad that Hermione (and you) agree with me. Great fill!

Me three. The Wizarding World has all the hallmarks of a near-cult. The Death Eaters are a bit more cultish and fringe than, say, the Weasleys - but that's like saying that living in Yearning for Zion is harder than living FLDS but technically outside of town.

I mean, let's look at the facts.

1. They take their kids and carefully manage their education so they are incapable of surviving if they leave the fold.

1a. This also applies to first generation children who

1b. are tacitly discouraged from maintaining much of a connection with their families - mandatory full-term boarding school (no weekly option) to encourage immersion in a "total environment", enough dangerous and dodgy incidents during the school year that the kids can't tell their parents without their parents being upset and the teachers don't think the parents ought to know (did anybody inform any of the Muggle parents what happened 2nd year? Even those whose kids were petrified?), no thought given to creating phone access or anything like that - and don't give me that "technology" nonsense, if radios can work, cell phones could.

2. Special clothes and terminology, to the point where even shared items and ideas often use words that aren't widespread in the greater world.

3. A simultaneous belief that the mainstream population is both very dangerous and also very foolish - so dangerous (but also so foolish) that it's okay to use memory charms with impunity for the most trivial of matters.

3a. With the corollary that if the Muggles found out unspecified "bad things" would happen. Everybody seems to believe this, but they barely give lip service to any explanation.

4. A governing system that seems strongly focused around personal power rather than qualifications and/or a popular mandate. Little to no laws or outside commissions to act as a check on abuse of power - these systems are only brought in as a power play when one faction feels it is losing ground. (The Ministry taking an interest in how Hogwarts runs its affairs is considered an inherently bad thing, but... why? I don't believe that the numbers support the idea that Hogwarts is *literally* the only school, but all the same, it's an important one. Shouldn't the state have some say in what they teach and how?)

5. Even our so called progressive heroes avoid any contact with their own relatives if those relatives don't have magic.

Harry Potter, Sorting Hat, making mistakes

There's always at least one in each class who thinks they've been put into the wrong house, that they can't possibly thrive in a place whose core outlook is so different than their lives. It's been so long since the Hat was enchanted that they've forgotten its purpose was not to shelter, but to challenge.

"Miss Granger," the Hat said solemnly, "believe what you like, but in no other House would your inner fire have been expressed so thoroughly."

Okay, I'm now updated with all new prompts. I'd like to start removing old prompts again tomorrow, but I can't make any guarantees - I have a lot of real life stuff to do, much of which takes a lot of time. If you let me know of any prompts you filled I'll try to get to them, but otherwise it may have to wait until Friday.

https://conuly.dreamwidth.org/3128453.html

Narnia, Aslan, cardboard boxes

It is the carboard boxes that hurt Peter the most.

Cardboard boxes that are a person's only shelter, after the war and the mass displacement, when rebuilding can't happen fast enough (and then, so much later, after Thatcher, when grinding poverty has set in for so many).

Cardboard boxes that imprint their lines into a person's face, aging them with pain and exposure and suffering, rather than joy.

Carboard boxes that decompose in the rain and wind and snow, somehow reminding Peter of Jadis and her frozen jail cells, her statues of stone.

And so Peter sets about tearing them down, reaching a hand to each person inside, replacing the cardboard with solid shelters, with wood and warmth.

And each time, he thinks he feels the warmth of Aslan's breath wash over him and the person he is helping, creating human connection and new life where there was none.

Oh, wow, this is sad but beautiful, and so poignant. And what a beautiful last line!

Thank you so much! <3

Oh yes. Exactly this. You made me cry! This is EXACTLY what I see for Peter. Thank you

You are so welcome! Making you cry with something I wrote about Peter feels like the highest compliment. <333

Peter!! Oh my goodness, this was not at all what I'd intended, but it is so heartfelt and such an amazing and unexpected spin on the prompt. I love the connection between the flimsy, near-useless boxes and the permanence of Jadis's cell and statues, especially - that hits hard. Of course Peter would want so badly to help those who had no one else, and OF COURSE Aslan would approve of that, with all his heart.

Thank you so much! I'm so glad you liked this. I liked that parallel, too - that something as flimsy as cardboard can become its own kind of prison, if no one comes to help. And of course Peter would be that person who helps - I can't imagine him any other way.

Awww this is adorable!

Thank you! :)

Oh my god, I thought I'd dreamed up this prompt when I couldn't find it yesterday? I am so glad I didn't ahaha

When the large marmalade cat finishes imparting his wisdom, he strides to the end of the table and leans forward; understanding his intention, Susan kneels before him and receives the kiss of the Lion's blessing upon her forehead.

"Thank you," she says, looking up into Aslan's warm eyes (which are the same no matter which form he takes or world he appears in), and he rumbles with approval for his queen before leaping to the floor.

But rather than depart from the cottage, he picks a path through all the half-packed items Susan has been sorting through until he finds an empty cardboard box leaning up against the wall; regally, Aslan steps over the open flaps, circles twice, and sits.

YES.

Of course he 'regally' steps into it, haha. Even getting into a box, Aslan could never be anything less than dignified. It's very sweet, and I like that it features Susan still having his approval and love, too!

PERFECT!

So, not only do you have No Problem With Susan, AND Aslan in Spare Oom as a cat (my favorite incarnation), AND you have Aslan appearing to Susan after The Crash, You Also Have Cat In A Box. Amazing. Incredible. All the feelings I ever want in a post Susan post Crash fic. Perfect. AND 3 sentences.

I also love cat!Aslan in Spare Oom!

i cackle

This is hilarious, I love it!

IF HE FITS HE SITS

I love it so much. What an amazing image.

any, any, frenemies with benefits

"Do the two of you have to fight quite so much?" Celes said. "We've been over the kidnapping misunderstanding, and anyway, Locke, there's no need for you to get offended on my account -"

"He'll pay me back later," Setzer interrupted, and as much as Locke thought, like hell I will, he couldn't help staring at the mouth that spoke those words, and he felt heat rising in his face.

"Well," Acamapichtli pants against his shoulderblades, "that was...invigorating."

Acatl growls, and if he wasn't still pinned against the wall--the High Priest of Tlaloc is quite a bit heavier than his own deer-slender frame--he'd shove him away and send him sprawling on the floor. With lust ebbing away rapidly, he's left with a hot, sick feeling of humiliated rage and only the slimmest of slim defenses that it had all seemed like an excellent idea at the time--it had seemed like an excellent idea the last time, too, but then they'd been facing each other and his nails down Acamapichtli's back had drawn blood.

"Fuck you," he snaps, and the man has the nerve to chuckle.

"Well, if you insist..."

Eve tried to get her breath back. It wasn't easy, with Villanelle's hand around her throat, though only resting there now, and her fingers thrusting inside Eve slowly, helping Eve ride out the last of the aftershocks.

Her hazel eyes watched Eve intently, the gold specks in them glinting in the harsh kitchen light, reminding Eve, not for the first time, of a cat.

A very pleased cat, in fact.

By any stretch of the imagination, this was a gigantic mistake. Eve should push her away, jump down from the kitchen counter and make up some excuse for her husband to justify the multitude of hickeys and love bites marking her neck, chest, collarbones.

But that ship had sailed. Niko was off somewhere, Eve could not even feign interest where. And it was getting harder by the day, denying how much this kind of violent intimacy was exactly what Eve wanted. Or when Eve was feeling particularly honest with herself, needed. She would trace the marks come morning, press down on the bruises to feel them again. Remind herself of how they got there.

Villanelle's lips turned into an amused grin, more of a smirk really. Sometimes Eve was sure she could read her goddamn mind.

Before the assassin could say anything to ruin the afterglow still clouding her mind, Eve spoke.

"So, the target?"

Villanelle snorted, the hand around Eve's neck caressing the skin.

"You'll enjoy this one, I think. I made a pretty scene for you."

It was ridiculous, really, what her low voice did to Eve. Worse yet that Villanelle could likely feel the effects her rough accent had on Eve.

Deciding that enough was enough, Eve moved. Villanelle pulled back, a frown taking over her brow.

With her feet safely back on the ground, Eve walked out of the kitchen, not bothering with her clothes. Villanelle had thrown them somewhere, maybe under the table this time.

"You know Carolyn doesn't like you showing off."

Villanelle's answer came from somewhere close behind Eve.

"Good thing it's not for her".

Will you give me everything I want?

Yes

It was a deal with the devil. And with Villanelle following Eve up to her bedroom, there was not a molecule of regret for that decision in Eve's body.

(ahh all that lost potential for Eve and V working together in s2. One can't help but wonder about how that dynamic might have evolved).

"You know, I wish I'd never met you."

Elias laughs and has the indecency to press his lips into Peter's, and swipe his tongue across the one that had just condemned him. As if that is what he loves the most, as if this is the core of his affection.

And, really, it probably is.

When Elias pulls his lips away, he hovers close, his head pressed into Peter's hair and says, "oh, you love it." And he has the further indecency to laugh.

"If I could love anything, darling," Peter says in turn, hoping the sardonicism drips biting and acrid right into Elias' mouth and down his mocking throat. "It certainly wouldn't be you."

But as he speaks the words, some very quiet, small, heretical part of Peter wonders if it's true. After all, he is corrupting himself, every time he allows their skin to touch. He feels the cutting pain as his loneliness is defiled.

But then the Lonely is satisfied when Elias inevitably slinks off to his precious Institute and Peter fades back to some distant shoreline. It almost rewards him.

This acts as a reminder, after all. A reminder of what it's like to really have nothing but specters and smoke, and lingering salt on his tongue, and the indecipherable twisting in his chest and stomach at the smell of awful cologne. To have his isolation truly Seen with a burning, scalding gaze satisfies the things they've both chosen to serve.

Elias runs his teeth across Peter's neck and then has the audacity to rest his cheek there, like intimacy is an amusing diversion that's so far below him except in jest. Elias is so empty and Peter is so, so jealous of that hollow void he doesn't even have the decency to comprehend the weight of.

Breaking things means nothing to him.

It makes Peter want to break him, just to see what he would think of it.

"Don't forget our bet, dearest," Elias murmurs in his ear.

"You certaintly won't." Peter says, rooting his fingers through Elias' mussed hair just a little too roughly. "Not when I win."

Elias laughs, and it sounds like water softly swallowing someone whole. "If it happened, if it ever happened...don't you worry. I would be sure to make note of it."

Peter knows he is not loved, and if anyone were to love him it wouldn't be Elias.

And if Peter were to love anything...well it couldn't be him either.

What a waste that would be.

If Peter loves anything it might be his god, but The Lonely doesn't want his love and he knows it.

He wonders, sometimes, if Elias does.

Star Trek, Q + any, dance-off

Star Trek Voyager, Q Jr., he wasn't made Q again

Star Trek Voyager, Q Jr and or / Icheb, good influence

Star Trek Voyager, Q Jr and or / Icheb, bad influence

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 3 of 51

Three Sentence Ficathon Part 2

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Narnia

Re: Narnia

Re: Narnia

Re: Narnia

FF6, Cyan & Terra

Re: FF6, Cyan & Terra

Pathologic, Commander Block

Re: Pathologic, Commander Block

no subject

If I Should Change Before I Wake

Re: If I Should Change Before I Wake

Re: If I Should Change Before I Wake

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

building bridges

Re: building bridges

Re: building bridges

no subject

no subject

To Be More Loving (LOTR, Sam & Arwen)

Re: To Be More Loving (LOTR, Sam & Arwen)

Re: To Be More Loving (LOTR, Sam & Arwen)

Re: To Be More Loving (LOTR, Sam & Arwen)

Re: To Be More Loving (LOTR, Sam & Arwen)

Re: To Be More Loving (LOTR, Sam & Arwen)

Re: To Be More Loving (LOTR, Sam & Arwen)

Lo, Here I Lie (Hamlet, Laertes/Claudius)

Re: Lo, Here I Lie (Hamlet, Laertes/Claudius)

no subject

No wonder they don't get anythig done

Re: No wonder they don't get anythig done

Re: No wonder they don't get anything done

Re: No wonder they don't get anything done

Re: No wonder they don't get anything done

Red Card

no subject

ST Voyager, what makes a home

Re: ST Voyager, what makes a home

Re: ST Voyager, what makes a home

Re: ST Voyager, what makes a home

Re: ST Voyager, what makes a home

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Mistakes Were Not Made

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

if he fits, he sits

Re: if he fits, he sits

Re: if he fits, he sits

Re: if he fits, he sits

Re: if he fits, he sits

Re: if he fits, he sits

Re: if he fits, he sits

Re: if he fits, he sits

no subject