It's leni_ba and today's theme is something of a classic here. Six sentences! Prompts can be anything, just remember that the fills must be 6 sentences. Have fun!
Just a few rules:No more than five prompts in a row
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fill. Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger.withasmile87June 17 2016, 17:11:48 UTC
(a bit longer than 6 sentences)
Hermione heaved a sighed as she watched Draco standing from the bed. He was more than likely heading back to his own room but a part of her didn't want too. Not after how good he had made her feel.
That and she was really craving just waking up next to him. Just once.
"Stay," she finally muttered softly, watching as he turned to look at her. A skeptical look on his face. "Please."
"Running From The Pull" --- The dishes had been cleared from the table hidden in the kitchen to be washed later, only Neil and Christy remained at their seats. They are not used to this silence each having a habit of always speaking what they felt no matter if necessarily wanted to hear it. He knows he should speak, make her listen, get her to see she was only running from the pull in her heart.
"David wants to leave at first light so I should get some sleep."
"Please stay with me." Christy shakes her head at last standing up leaving him alone she can only hope she made it past before the tears were seen.
"Detective, I always keep my promises," Lucifer said, that smarmy smile of his firmly in place.
Chloe gave him a look. Not the one he wanted, obviously, as his smile didn't exactly falter but definitely dimmed. "That's not a promise I want anyone to keep. Much less you."
He sighed, disappointed, as Chloe turned on her heel and walked away. "It would definitely be worth your while - Detective -?"
Fill: Fight The Pain Away, Legends of Tomorrow, G, ColdnevcolleilJune 17 2016, 19:45:11 UTC
It hits them all harder than he'd expected - or maybe just cared to think about. He spent a lot of time before the Vanishing Point going round and round in his own head, pissed off that Lenny'd chosen to care more for these people than about their partnership; didn't ever bother asking himself whether he thought they cared for Lenny in return.
Jax mopes and Rip drinks a lot; Haircut and the professor keep talking at him, trying to get him to open up. Sara's the only one who mourns kinda the same way he does. She cusses Lenny in every language she knows - and she knows a few; picks fights that aren't obviously about him and beats down anyone who reminds her that he ain't here anymore to drink off the aftermath with. It's a technique Mick can get behind, and he jumps into the fray by her side every time; keeps his ring hidden and sobs to the ghost of the man who wore it in private just like Lenny woulda done if it'd been him that'd gone down instead.
The Reality Blurs --- On the Ark grieving didn’t happen; there wasn’t time, life needed to continue on. You knew from practically birth the meaning of ‘for the greater good’ death almost didn’t seem real or have a true need to be grieved. There were some deaths in which the avoidance of the hurt can not be ignored. Marcus thinks of the 320 with each sip of whiskey he took; for them he’d mourn. Half way through the bottle the reality blurs in his mind. Was he grieving for them or what he had become?
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A prophecy, a Slayer and time running out on the end of the world. Yeah, sometimes they don't survive but that could be true of any night.
Every time the Slayer wins. Every time the apocalypse is averted.
Tomorrow always comes.
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Hermione heaved a sighed as she watched Draco standing from the bed. He was more than likely heading back to his own room but a part of her didn't want too. Not after how good he had made her feel.
That and she was really craving just waking up next to him. Just once.
"Stay," she finally muttered softly, watching as he turned to look at her. A skeptical look on his face. "Please."
Reply
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"Running From The Pull"
---
The dishes had been cleared from the table hidden in the kitchen to be washed later, only Neil and Christy remained at their seats. They are not used to this silence each having a habit of always speaking what they felt no matter if necessarily wanted to hear it. He knows he should speak, make her listen, get her to see she was only running from the pull in her heart.
"David wants to leave at first light so I should get some sleep."
"Please stay with me." Christy shakes her head at last standing up leaving him alone she can only hope she made it past before the tears were seen.
Reply
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Chloe gave him a look. Not the one he wanted, obviously, as his smile didn't exactly falter but definitely dimmed. "That's not a promise I want anyone to keep. Much less you."
He sighed, disappointed, as Chloe turned on her heel and walked away. "It would definitely be worth your while - Detective -?"
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Damian narrows his eyes, a look on his face just as feral as the cat he's trying to hide in his arms. "None of your business, Grayson."
"You plan to keep it and give it a name?"
Damian looks dumbfounded, the cat tries to scramble away but with a pat to its head from Damian it curls back around him.
Dick sighs, says, "I am perceptive you know. Go ahead. It'll be our little secret."
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Jax mopes and Rip drinks a lot; Haircut and the professor keep talking at him, trying to get him to open up. Sara's the only one who mourns kinda the same way he does. She cusses Lenny in every language she knows - and she knows a few; picks fights that aren't obviously about him and beats down anyone who reminds her that he ain't here anymore to drink off the aftermath with. It's a technique Mick can get behind, and he jumps into the fray by her side every time; keeps his ring hidden and sobs to the ghost of the man who wore it in private just like Lenny woulda done if it'd been him that'd gone down instead.
Reply
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The Reality Blurs
---
On the Ark grieving didn’t happen; there wasn’t time, life needed to continue on. You knew from practically birth the meaning of ‘for the greater good’ death almost didn’t seem real or have a true need to be grieved. There were some deaths in which the avoidance of the hurt can not be ignored. Marcus thinks of the 320 with each sip of whiskey he took; for them he’d mourn. Half way through the bottle the reality blurs in his mind. Was he grieving for them or what he had become?
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