rthstewart | Three Sentence Ficathon Part 2

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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>

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Legend of Korra, Zhu Li domming Varrick with no mercy (he loves it)

Any, any, any previous prompt except change it to a fandom you want to write in.

3SF, any, "What I did in February 2021."

“Holy shit, you guys,” Semicolon said, flopping on the floor, legs too rubbery to hold her up any longer. “I mean, holy shit.”

In the corner, Comma curled up and trembled (Parentheses had already fled the vicinity), while Em-Dash collapsed on the couch, a delirious Hyphen held in their arms, and said, “Yeah, goddamn - so, see you all same time next year?”

Edited 2021-03-01 08:56 (UTC)

That's amazing. Love it.

Ahaha, awesome!

Ahahahaha, beautiful.

It's 2 AM and Ruth is checking her phone.
Only 453 comments to go; wait, make that 457, no 486.
Sleep is for the weak.

Your poor inbox! I can't even imagine the notifications.

Any, any/any, "you are worth the work it takes to love you"

“I’m surprised you’re here,” Teomitl mutters, and hates the way his voice cracks and his eyes sting. They’ve had another fight, one where his pride and Acatl’s bluntness had collided in spectacular devastation, and he’d stormed off in a huff. He knows it’s his fault again, knows he should apologize, but the words are stuck in his throat and won’t come out. I’m sorry, I’m sorry--he says that a lot, says that too much, is always being too sharp and too rough and soon Acatl has to get fed up with him and just decide they’re too different to keep--

Cool, dry hands enfold his, and he meets Acatl’s calm and serious eyes. “Where else could I be?”

“With your priests,” he spits out. “With your temple. With someone easy to love, someone who’s not so...so...” Someone who’s not far too much like his namesake, he thinks, and remembers the ahuitzotls. They bite too.

“...So much work?” Like all he’s doing is stating a fact and not ripping the heart from Teomitl’s chest. At his stiff nod, Acatl’s grip tightens. “Teomitl. When have I ever shied away from hard work, when the reward is so great?”

He sucks in a breath. “Acatl,” he begins, “I’m sorry--"

Acatl kisses him. You don’t have to apologize, says that kiss. You are work, says that kiss, but it’s work I take on gladly, because I love you.

He does cry a little, but they’re tears of joy.

Warnings for talk about cancer treatment and side effects. Due to the length of this fic, I've posted the first section as an excerpt. The rest can be found at https://archiveofourown.org/works/33259705

***

Joan stood in front of her bathroom mirror the night before her first chemotherapy session, frowning at the reflection of the shears in her hand.

She knew she shouldn’t have put this off this late, she chastised herself. She really should have made an appointment with her hairstylist immediately after her oncologist had scheduled her chemo. Normally she wasn’t one to delay a difficult task; she didn’t want to wait until after her therapy started, for reasons both practical and otherwise.

Yet to her bemusement, it kept slipping her mind.

Every time she did remember, and reach for her hair scissors in the cupboard behind the mirror, she’d pause for a long moment, hand hovering over the handles, uncertain. And she’d withdraw it and close the door.

She had time, she assured herself. Still time--

Then she’d received the message about Moriarty, and had summoned Sherlock to return. She hadn’t been prepared for how the remaining time passed so quickly, until that morning when she realized she had no other choice.

Joan had prepared Arthur earlier that evening when putting him to bed, telling him that Mommy would have short hair tomorrow morning when he woke up. Kids were resilient, and Arthur more than most; his reaction was simply, “Okay Mom, g’night,” followed by a yawn and drooping eyelids. She’d lingered at his bedside for awhile after he dropped off, curled around him and tempted to take a short nap with him as she sometimes did, when she needed to be reminded how lucky she was, after a difficult case.

She roused herself from her reverie. “Just do it, Joan,” she said firmly, “come on.” She pulled a small section of hair away from her head, taking hold of it a few inches away from her scalp; she raised the scissors and opened the blades around the strands. It was just hair, she reminded herself, she trimmed her split ends all the time with no problem, she could do this. She had to; the docetaxel and doxorubicin in her chemo regimen would cause her hair to fall out within a couple of weeks. It was better to cut it short now, she reasoned, rather than wait until clumps of hair fell out to tangle in their vacuum cleaner or clog their drains.

Still she paused, her mind blank, her body frozen in place.

“Damn it,” she whispered after a moment. “Damn it.”

She couldn’t do it. Furious with herself, Joan let her hair go and bowed her head, gripping the lip of the sink. The scissors slipped from her grip and dropped into the bowl, where they skittered over the porcelain and clattered at the bottom. Her hair draped around her face; she squeezed her eyes shut against the sting of defeated tears that threatened to spill.

“How may I be of assistance, Watson,” Sherlock said quietly from the door.

The rest of the fic is at https://archiveofourown.org/works/33259705

any, any canon couple & any, "I'm the other woman." (or gender-nonspecific)

Fina didn't quite understand why Vyse turned and stared at her when she said that, or why Aika had to suddenly turn away and bite down on the wrists of her baggy leather gloves to stop herself from laughing out loud.

"It's... I mean... I didn't say anything untrue, did I?" she asked, nervously adjusting her bandana; at least the people they were talking to didn't seem that surprised, but then again, Blue Rogues didn't seem surprised by much at all.

"Technically, no," Vyse said slowly, smiling as Aika lost the battle with her composure and burst into uproarious laughter, "but I think we're going to have to discuss terminology and connotations at some point."

---

(Granted, the "canon couple" status of this is debatable, they're more like a canon triad, but what the heck, it sounded like something Fina would say.)

Edited 2021-03-01 16:37 (UTC)

"You're able to get Hulk to calm down, too?" Betty asks in surprise.

Natasha shrugs fluidly, watching Hulk shrink down into Bruce. "What can I say," she says with a flirtatious smile that makes Betty blush, "I'm the other woman."

any, any pairing, "thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably"

Minerva watches the scene on the balcony as her staircase glides down past it. Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy are exchanging words with the intensity of duellists hurling spells at each other, regardless of anyone else, including passing Headmistresses. This particular argument might have started today at Arithmancy, where both are vying to top the class according to Septima Vector, or indeed over breakfast, but these two have been bickering since they laid eyes on each other as First Years, and Minerva is long enough in the tooth to know where this is headed, whatever their parents make of it.

any, any, i just can't wait to be king

any, any, this ain't no place for a hero

The really sad thing is, he can see where it all went wrong; Ceyaxochitl should have taken Acatl more fully under her wing, teaching him the ins and outs of his role before unleashing him upon the court as the new High Priest for the Dead. There is a time and place for a man to be earnest and self-sacrificing, but Acatl’s long past that. Someone should have made sure he realized it before now--before his naivety found him here, in this cage, with Tizoc trying once again to see him dead.

Well, he’ll just have to drive the point home. Acatl’s all snarling anger and a feral sort of common pride, even now that he’s been thoroughly beaten and locked behind stout wooden bars on ground that’s slowly but surely sapping his strength. If he wasn’t so pathetic in his useless determination, Acamapichtli would feel bad for him. He takes a step forward, knowing that the bars are the only thing protecting him, and murmurs, “Foolish Acatl. You think you’re a hero, don’t you.”

Acatl spits at him. It falls short. “Go fuck yourself,” he snarls, and goodness, Teomitl has been a terrible influence on him.

He sighs, shaking his head. “You should have stayed in Coyoacan. Tenochtitlan’s no place for a man like you.” And then, because he can’t resist, he adds, “Teomitl won’t be able to save you from this.”

If the bars weren’t in the way, he’s quite sure Acatl would kill him with his bare hands.

Any, any, ambition, anxiety, adrenaline

Edited 2021-03-02 06:38 (UTC)

He just barely made it into the tunnel through Tlalocan before he broke down completely. He’d held it together well enough talking with Mihmatini--it had been emotional on both sides, yes, and there had been tears of rage and grief in both their eyes--but he’d managed to keep himself under control until she’d left. (Probably forever; there was no way she’d ever forgive him, but they were at least talking. From there all other things could start.) But then she’d walked away and he’d been standing there alone and he’d taken one more breath--

And it had struck him like a tidal wave. She and Acatl had been injured, had been fighting for their lives, and he’d stood in front of them with his warriors and his blinding lust for the crown and almost--he’d almost--

Gods, what have I done?

At least in the tunnel, he was alone. There were no witnesses as he crumpled to the ever-shifting ground and lost the battle against his tears, no one to hear as they burst out of him in wrenching, painful sobs. He’d wanted to be Revered Speaker, to save the Empire from his brother’s clutches, to lead it to glory. He’d wanted it so badly that, with his sister’s venom in his ear, he hadn’t cared who stood in his way. Mihmatini had just slain a king’s ghost for the sake of the Fifth World--she’d still been bleeding as they talked!--and she’d shown every inclination to slay him too for the same reason, and he would have deserved it. And Acatl...

Steady eyes. A firm, calm voice. “I’m asking this as one man to another.”

Well, he thought bitterly, at least I know he respects me now. He wanted to throw up. If there’d been anything in his stomach, he might have. He’d finally gotten what he’d wanted from the man, and all it had taken was the near-destruction of everything else he loved.

(He could have killed him. Worse--Acatl could have hated him. Teomitl kind of hated himself.)

He sucked in a breath--come on, Ahuitzotl, no more tears--and choked on another wracking sob. No, he wasn’t fit for company yet. But when he was, he had some apologies to make.

Any, any, two perfect pears

"'Two perfect pears' is a contradiction in terms, because there is no way on this or any other planet or plane of existence that a pear can be anything other than a foul waste of water and fructose," the Doctor said, scowling at the fruit basket Martha was poking through in the TARDIS kitchen.

"Pear blossom's awfully pretty, though, and you can't get the trees or flowers without the fruit," Martha said, twirling one of the pears -- a lovely, firm green fruit, with just a hint of blush near one side of its base -- and wondering if she trusted the grateful farmer's market vendors of New New Earth to have washed their produce before presenting her and the Doctor with a fresh and delicious reward.

"I cannot believe your lack of imagination, Martha Jones -- what about grafting, or cloning, or genetic engineering, or--" the Doctor began, only to sputter into undignified silence when Martha grinned and took a juicy bite.

Any, any, swordplay (possibly as flirting, I ain't picky)

Narnia, Susan &/ Edmund, tell me/when did your winning smile/begin to look like a smirk/when did all our lessons start to look like weapons/pointed at my deepest hurt

Edited 2021-03-01 07:42 (UTC)

(so uh, things go badly in Calormen)

~

"You were the one who wanted this," she hisses, her voice low and raw with grief and fury, hand clutching his tight, "you said a trip to Calormen, that's all it would be, we would play our roles and you would learn your precious secrets and you would protect me…"

She's right, he thinks, of course she's right and this is all his fault, he was sure he knew what he was doing, what he was risking, what he was willing to lose, and he had no idea what the real cost of playing this game of chance with Rabadash and the Tisroc would be; he wants to apologize but he can't do that, and he wants to tell her that he will save her, but that's nothing he can promise any longer — all he can say before he boards the ship, is, "I'll come back for you."

She stiffens, dropping his his hand, and he's never seen that look in her eyes before, or heard such steel in her voice as when she says, "Go back to Narnia, Edmund, and your new life, and leave me be."

Ooooh, I had never even thought of Calormen for this one (but you know I love Calormen-goes-bad fic)!

Susan's anger is so palpable here - I love how it overwhelms Ed like a wave, and he has no real defense against it at all, because he knows he's doomed her. And she thinks that now she can only depend on herself. It's all so awful and tragic!

(They would never let her be, of course...I hope?)

Hehehe, the prompt took me in a different place! But of course it was Calormen!

Yessssss she was so angry and he was the target. I don't think everything that went wrong can be laid at his feet, but I was thinking he was overconfident and cocky and didn't realize what he was playing at. So she feels betrayed and abandoned all around.

(And he's totally coming back for her!)

Any, any/any, you think i'm a monster--but you think i'm your monster

The first time Eve killed, it was to save Villanelle's life. It was also a lie, of a kind. Raymond was choking the life out of her, but Villanelle did have that damn gun in her pocket. Would she have used it? Did she even remember it was in her pocket at the time?

Or had the thought of him getting his grubby little hands on Eve wipe everything else from her mind, and the subsequent, glorious vision of Eve with that axe in her hands make everything else in the world completely irrelevant? Villanelle thought she knew the answer, and it might have been that in another world, speaking it aloud could have saved them time. Either way, it didn't matter.

No, not at all, because here was Eve, killing to protect Villanelle again. A knife, this time, a beautiful thing with a carved silver handle that Villanelle had gifted her for Valentine's day.

It was red now, and prettier for it.

There was no ruse this time, really! Villanelle's own knife was lost somewhere on the floor, the split-second hesitation to actually use it causing this whole mess.

Eve's face, stained red and so very pretty, made the fumble worth it.

Villanelle could only watch, utterly entranced as Eve did her butcher's work. No finesse, only a lifetime's worth of repressed anger. That was alright; that was Eve' mark, Villanelle though. She had a lot of anger to get out.

Once satisfied the lump of flesh wouldn't get up again, Eve turned to Villanelle. Her eyes wild, but focused. Villanelle met her half-way.

Her hands cupped Eve's cheeks, turned her this way and that, made sure all of the blood was not Eve's. A smile curved Villanelle's lips, she could not help herself.

"That was very messy, Eve. But I like it."

Eve laughed. She kept laughing for a long time, until tears made tracks through the red on her cheeks. Villanelle pulled her close, not minding the blood. This wouldn't be the first haute couture blouse she ruined with it.

"I don't regret it. Not even a little. What is wrong with us?"

Eve sounded so small. Villanelle frowned. Delicate now. You don't get second chances often. Do not screw this up again.

"A lot, most shrinks would say," Eve giggle-sobbed against her chest, a good sign, "I don't know Eve. If it helps, that one deserved it."

Eve moved, pressed her forehead to Villanelle's, breathed deep.

"It does help. Probably another sign of a problem, but it helps."

Villanelle nodded, took Eve's hand, the one holding the beautiful knife, and guided Eve away, to somewhere safe.

If she is a monster, then being a monster can not be so bad. Is that why we love each other? I feed her monster, she feeds mine, and we love them just the same.

Heidegger openly despised him; Scarlet called him 'beast' to his face; Palmer was afraid of him, but in an oily sort of way that gave him no satisfaction. President Shinra gave the overall impression of enjoying the show, every time he dragged the General up from his office to make some report or other to the executive floor.

Sephiroth put up with it for two reasons: first, because he truly had nowhere else to go, and second, because he knew a future existed where he would be the instrument of the Company's destruction, and all he had to do was wait.

(AU where Sephiroth maybe has a touch of Aerith's clairvoyance, but not enough to see detail...?)

any fantasy, any/any, "yeah, and i'm the consort of the emperor...oh wait, i AM the consort of the emperor"

“And I’m the First Imperial Concubine,” Acatl mutters sarcastically.

Sarcastically, mind you, but now Mihmatini’s raised her head and is just looking at him, long and level. As he watches, one eyebrow goes up. She keeps looking.

He blinks back at her. “What?”

“Well,” she says, and grins at him.

All at once it hits him, and he wants to curl up and die from sheer embarrassment. Of course he’s known what he’s doing--it would be impossible not to, given just who his sister and his lover are as people--but it’s one thing to be intellectually aware of what that makes him in regards to their marriage and another to put words on it. He’s accepted gifts from Teomitl, broken his vow of chastity to pieces for him, tangled their hands and their hearts together. Though he doesn’t live in the palace, there’s no question that he’s accepted his essentially subordinate position in regards to the man’s primary wife, just as she’s accepted that he’s first in her husband’s heart.

“Oh gods,” he groans, voice cracking. “I am the First Imperial Concubine.”

Any, any, the price of knowledge

Narnia/ASoIaF, Susan/Jon Snow, the more that you say, the less I know/wherever you stray, I follow

Jon Snow has told her about the girl, the girl kissed by fire, the girl who once told him that he knew nothing, and Susan thinks she understands those words very well — Westeros is not Narnia, life here is very different, and difficult, there are plots and treachery down every path, the gods here are silent, and magic is strange and frightening — she knows nothing and somedays she wonders if she was a fool to come here, to think that she could help and make a difference in some way.

But Jon is here and when he reaches out and takes her hand in his, it's then that she knows — she knows that she's where she's meant to be, with him, and being with him is really the only thing that matters to her now.

"We must leave the Wall," he tells her, and Susan knows one thing — that she will be by his side.

(I like that I prompted 'straying' and you responded with Ygritte! I'm not sure who should be insulted, her or Susan. ;) )

That Susan realizes the immense differences between her world and Westeros, and the danger levels therein, is so interesting - the worlds are so different, of course. But people are always the same regardless, and that's what really matters. And now I desperately want to know where they're going! North of the Wall or south?

(lololol well Susan has to wonder about Ygritte, right?)

I think she feels out of her element sometimes, because Westeros is so crazypants and she's like, "why do they not do anything with the magic, I don't get it?"

They're going south of the Wall! In my head this is after he's been stabbed and she saves him and his parentage has been revealed so he hears Targaryens are afoot in Westeros again and decides to go south to raise an army to fight the Others. They're probably going to swing by Winterfell on the way. :D

Oh, good! Then she can meet Sansa, who will of course be like "THANK THE GODS, another woman who is smart and sensible and will help me get shit done" and Arya will grudgingly admit she's cool after she beats Arya in an archery contest, and then they can go find Dany and everything will be okay. I like this.

(Bran will just be like "ah yes, the dragon-rider" and everyone will say "wait what?" and he'll be like "oh, not THAT way." Ahem.)

So this is actually a story I’ve been working at, off and on, for years? I don’t think I’ll ever finish, lol, but I enjoy writing it and the doc title is “supremely self-indulgent jon/susan.”

Anyway, they go to Winterfell and get involved in the Battle of Winterfell with Stannis and the Boltons and after that’s when Bran returns. So then they keep going south —- they end up at the Vale and get Sansa (somehow, I’m vague on the details) and then they keep moving to Riverrun where Jon leaves Susan and Sansa and goes south to try to meet up with Dany and Aegon and get everyone on board with fighting the Others and while he’s gone Arya comes to Riverrun and .... something something riding dragons and fiery deaths and eventual happy ending.

(Bran said what he said! :D)

Ah yes, this is all Good Stuff and I'm pleased.

Riding dragons, eh? I'll bet. And I love that doc title haha.

Any, any, alarm clock

Avatar: the Legend of Korra, any (F/F), old women in love

Any, Any, last stop

Any, Any, one last hurrah

The Enterprise left port without authorization, stolen in a feat never before heard in all the history of the Federation, one last hurrah for the legendary crew that lived in an era of space exploration with little rules and even less support the likes of which would never be seen again. Their mission was one of loyalty and friendship, but also proof of their spirit of adventure, that so often had guided them in the years they were together. Whatever the outcome of their mission, the last trip of the Enterprise crew would be one that would never be forgotten.

Any, Any, just when I thought I'd seen the last of you

Disco Elysium, Harry, So thank you for taking a chance on me
I know it isn't easy
But I hope to be worth it

Any, any, the last order he ever gave

He must not say no to this journey; earl he may be, but Kent will always be a servant to the king.

The whole time he served in disguise, he tried to fasten Lear’s coat against the elements, but he could not reach his side in time to undo the button to let his soul rejoin those elements. Even in death his king will not recognize him, but if Kent were acting for recognition he would have accepted his banishment in the first place.

but he could not reach his side in time to undo the button to let his soul rejoin those elements

Ahhhhhhhhhhhh excellent!!

Any, any, every way to say goodbye

Spock had lost friends every way he knew how: to old age, to missions failed, to disasters of technology that should never have happened, and very few gave him the chance to say goodbye as they passed, most losses coming as a surprise, and at times the news was delayed for months. He had thought of what he wanted to say to everyone of them if he had had the chance, and no words seemed adequate. Perhaps it was fitting then that he should die alone, so far away from the few friends he had left, unreachable: another missed goodbye.

Wow! This is soooo sad, but also really awesome.

Thanks!!!

Any, any, The part is wholly ending
A line in any final song
So long, so far

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Page 50 of 51

Three Sentence Ficathon Part 2

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Thick Skin and an Elastic Heart (Anthropomorfic, Punctuation)

Re: Thick Skin and an Elastic Heart (Anthropomorfic, Punctuation)

Re: Thick Skin and an Elastic Heart (Anthropomorfic, Punctuation)

Re: Thick Skin and an Elastic Heart (Anthropomorfic, Punctuation)

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Obsidian & Blood, Acatl/Teomitl

Elementary, Of Such A Truth As I Have Meant, Joan Watson/Sherlock Holmes

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Connotations (Skies of Arcadia, Vyse/Aika/Fina, SFW)

MCU; Bruce/Betty & Natasha

no subject

Harry Potter, Minerva, Rose/Scorpius

no subject

no subject

Obsidian & Blood, Acatl & Acamapichtli

no subject

Obsidian & Blood, Teomitl

no subject

Grin and Pear It (Doctor Who)

no subject

no subject

you haven't met the new me yet

Re: you haven't met the new me yet

Re: you haven't met the new me yet

no subject

Killing Eve, Eve/Villanelle,cw for murder wives being in love with both each other and their carnage

FF7, Sephiroth

no subject

Obsidian & Blood, Acatl/Teomitl & Mihmatini

no subject

no subject

anywhere else is hollow

Re: anywhere else is hollow

Re: anywhere else is hollow

Re: anywhere else is hollow

Re: anywhere else is hollow

Re: anywhere else is hollow

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Star Trek The Search for Spock, crew of the Enterprise

no subject

no subject

no subject

Vex Not His Ghost! (King Lear, Kent & Lear, canon death)

Re: Vex Not His Ghost! (King Lear, Kent & Lear, canon death)

no subject

Star Trek Alternate Original Movies, Spock, MCD

Re: Star Trek Alternate Original Movies, Spock, MCD

no subject