[fanfiction] I apparently just hoard ficlets.
The first one of these was typed in a word document called "what.txt" which I think sums up my reaction to finding it nicely. The rest of them are either 
fic_promptly or porn battle 13 fills.
monday mornings suck
The Social Network; Chris Hughes/Eduardo Saverin/Mark Zuckerberg, PG-13
"Mark," Eduardo says sternly, "get up."
"No."
Pulling the pillow over his head, Mark does his best to ignore the way that Eduardo is standing by the bed. He manages for exactly thirty seconds before Eduardo systematically strips all the blankets and sheets off the bed and Mark shivers.
"Mark," Eduardo repeats, "up. You have to get dressed."
"He's still not up?"
There's a amused lilt to Chris' voice, but Mark is more concerned with slowly shaking sleep away. He sits up and gropes for his laptop, still mostly asleep. Instead, Eduardo drops a pile of clothes into his hand. Mark looks down at them blankly.
"They're clothes," Chris says gently, "You put them on and then we go to this shareholder meeting."
"Code push," Mark mumbles, "can't."
Eduardo sighs and starts dressing Mark by force, "No. You are coming to this meeting."
"Code push."
It's a whine, but Mark would never admit to that. Buttoning Mark's shirt, Eduardo rolls his eyes and instead starts pulling on Mark's underwear. Mark is not particularly helpful in this venture, and Chris abuptly pulls Mark to his feet so Eduardo can finish dressing him. He puts his lips to Mark's ear.
"You are going to this meeting, Mark. You promised me."
"You had three fingers up my ass, I am not responsible for anything I said."
(you deserve) much better than we've had
Gay Pirates - Cosmo Jarvis; Narrator/Sebastian, R | original
You love Sebastian, but sometimes it's hard.
Sodomy isn't exactly approved of among the crew you've managed to land yourself in, and you can't so much as look at Sebastian during daylight without one of the crew pushing you down and sometimes whipping you. You would have left the ship a long time ago if it hadn't been for Sebastian. You stay for Sebastian, and Sebastian is tied to the boat for another year.
The struggle would be too much to bear if it were not for the blessed fact that one night every month or so the crew gets so drunk that they're out cold for three or four hours at the least.
It's on nights like those that you and Sebastian find each other, fingers intertwining and kissing like it might make up for every injustice you've both fallen to under these brutes. Sebastian clings to you the same way you cling to him: like it'll anchor you and keep you strong against the coming storm. You never tell him that it'll be okay, because the lie would be the worst thing you could do to him.
Instead, you say: "Let's go far away. Somewhere where the Captain won't be mad."
You say: "I wanna love you good."
Then you kiss him again, while your hand slips into his pants and your fingers curl around him, moving up and down to the rhythm of the waves rocking the boat. Sebastian's nails cut into your skin, a reminder of this for later, and you whisper of a life that you could live, one where you'd run a ship together and no one would be bullied for who they love.
You say: "I love you."
And you hope that's enough, even though you know it probably isn't. You know this, even as Sebastian spills into your hand.
Hope and love are the only things you have to offer, though, and so you give them to Sebastian with everything you have.
things I keep to myself
iCarly; Sam/Freddie, R | original
They don't tell Carly about this.
It's not that they don't trust her (she's their best friend, of course they trust her), or that they're ashamed of what they're doing. It's not for any stupid reason like that, but for the simple reason that what they do isn't really any of anyone's buisness so they can all stuff it. This is something for them and them alone.
The sight of Freddie, stretched out underneath her (on her bed with his fingers curled around her headboard) is something that Sam wants to keep for herself. It's for her, she thinks, and no one else gets to see Freddie like this because this thing between them just works. She's not sure that it'll ever stop working, but Sam never wants to think about that possibility anyway. There are more important things to think about, like the way Freddie is looking at her. It's expectant, and Sam just smiles.
Trailing her fingers down Freddie's chest, Sam watches him breathe. They're both quiet, which is something that Sam used to be surprised by, but isn't anymore. They don't really need words in situations like these. Words are for outside, with other people. When it's just the two of them, there's really no need.
Bending down, Sam kisses Freddie briefly before she lets her mouth follow the path of her fingers downward. With every fatherlight kiss, Freddie's breath hitches. Sam smiles into his skin and bites gently into the skin just above his hip.
"Sam," Freddie says.
It's not a prayer or a warning or anything, really. It's just her name, said as easy as breathing. Sam shifts, wrapping her lips around the head of Freddie's cock and sucking. Freddie says her name again, like it just come out whenever he exhales, and Sam likes that about him. Taking him in further, Sam presses a hand onto Freddie's hip, just a reminder that if he bucks up, she will end him.
Freddie's never been anything but exceedingly obedient about this, though. Well, aside from the first couple of fumbling, unsure times. Then everything had smoothed out until they were in sync. Sam goes at her task like she does everything else: with the kind of reckless abandon that usually ends you in jail. She knows that Freddie wouldn't have it any other way, though, because she knows him.
And maybe that's the core of why they don't tell anyone about this. No one would ever believe that they actually managed to make everything work, actually managed to keep their shit together long enough to work out everything that wasn't working. Sam smiles, though Freddie can't see it, and flicks her tongue over the head of his cock. He groans.
Besides, Sam thinks to herself, everyone knows she doesn't share things well.
but it's you
Gay Pirates - Cosmo Jarvis; Narrator/Sebastian, PG-13 | original
When you fall down into the water, you do not struggle. The water is warm with sun, and it keeps you afloat because as long as you do not fight, the sea will not forsake you. You knows this and Sebastian knows this, so the two of you are left to float in the sea.
It may be mere minutes or perhaps an hour later (time is meaningless when you are floating like seaweed or driftwood) when Sebastian, the beautiful boy worth risking everything for, somehow manages to get his hands free. Sebastian cuts your restraints too, a piece of broken glass clutched in his hand, and then the sea rocks him into you.
"I don't think this is what you meant when you said we should go far away," Sebastian says, still smiling somehow.
It is very much not what you meant and there isn't anything about the comment that should make you smile, but you do anyway. Because you can, you kiss Sebastian the way you never could on the ship. If you are to die, you do not want to die without having kissed Sebastian properly at least once. Besides, the kiss feels sweet with the taste of victory after so many nights being beaten by the crew. Sebastian wraps his arms around your neck and the rock of the waves isn't so different than being on a ship.
The water is mostly calm though and then, like some sort of sign from God, a bird flies overhead and throws a shadow onto you. The shape is wrong for an albatross, and Sebastian watches the bird dip down and soar low over the water.
"Would it be too much to hope," you say quietly, "that there might be land nearby?"
"Possibly," Sebastian says back, "but I would hate to doubt such an obvious sign."
Which is a fair enough point, as it is rare to see such an obvious sign. So, you swim and Sebastian follows you. The current pushes you along, and there is something like hope blossoming in you.
You have not been broken by what they have thrown.
from the shadows
Sherlock BBC; John Watson/Molly Hooper, R | original
Molly finds him first.
At the time, John doesn't know that Sherlock has given her strict orders to keep an eye on him and John doesn't want to see anyone so he lets her stand at his doorstep, knocking. She goes away eventually, but every Tuesday like clockwork, Molly shows up on his doorstep.
"John," she calls, "I know it's rough, but I brought you a cassarole. Are you going to come answer the door this week? No? Well, I'll just leave it here, then. Don't leave it sitting out for too long, John. Goodbye."
Some part of him wants to hate the fact that she's bringing him food like he can't take care of himself now that there's a huge, Sherlock-shaped hole in his life, but that's not it. He knows that's not what Molly means by it, because Molly leaves little notes on top of her cassarole dishes and writes him things like: Don't give up, John. Everything'll clear up fine.
John doesn't know if he believes her notes but the tenth time Molly shows up, John answers the door. There's a momentary hiccup, and then Molly is smiling and offering him this week's dish: a basket of muffins covered in a cheery gingham cloth. John takes them.
"I hope you like them," Molly says, "They're my grandmum's recipe. I'll leave you alone now, goodbye."
And just like that, Molly turns to leave. John's going to let her go until something clicks in his head and he stops her.
"Wait," John says, "would you . . . would you like to come in for tea?"
Molly smiles, "I'd love that."
It's as easy as that, John thinks. The two people half in love with Sherlock, missing something huge in their lives now that he's gone, find each other. People would say, if they didn't know, that Molly and John only began dating because they were both missing something. That's not it, though.
Because John's fought wars and maybe he'd been using those other girls he dated to get Sherlock out of his head, to lie to himself. Now that Sherlock's gone, John doesn't need to lie anymore. Besides, Molly isn't just any girl he picked up in a pub.
No, Molly's the girl who broke up with the world's greatest criminal mastermind. The girl who knows so much more than anyone knows and keeps her secrets close to her chest. So, when John kisses her the first time, she pulls away.
"I'm not Sherlock," she says simply.
John doesn't kiss her again until the time where Molly doesn't push him away, the time where her arms twine around him and pull him closer.
John says: "I'm not Sherlock."
It makes Molly laugh, bright and piercing like early sunshine through curtains.
"I wouldn't want you to be," Molly replies.
They stay at that level: breathtaking kisses and hands under shirts, for a long while, neither of them ready for anything else and then . . . Then Molly's shedding her clothes, slipping out of them, and John's taking it in while simultaneously shed his own clothes. They stumble into each other, finding each other, and John's got his fingers on Molly's hips.
He kisses down her body, aware of how everyone pales in the shadow of Sherlock until Sherlock is no longer there to cast a shadow. She's beautiful though, something John has always been aware of as a faint buzz in the back of his mind, and John takes his time before nudging her legs apart and settling down.
Molly gasps at the first touch of John's tongue, and it maybe takes a moment for him to explore her, discover her, but he knows when he's on the right track. Molly's fingers twist into the sheets and John squeezes her thighs, spreading them apart further to suck on her clit, to dip his tongue into her.
"John," Molly says, and John is strangely pleased by the fact that she's saying his name.
Not Sherlock's, not anyone else's. It's his name, and John smiles into what he's doing. He shifts, slipping a finger into her, and Molly arches up. She forgets herself a little and roots fingers in John's hair, tugging and letting out a breathless string of half-formed words that John drinks in with her taste.
After, when Molly is curling into him and not quite awake, he kisses her and thinks that maybe (hopefully) Sherlock being gone is not the end of the world.
(say nothing) that isn't permitted
BBC Sherlock; James Moriarty/Sherlock Holmes, R | original
As soon as the words are out of Sherlock's mouth, he realizes that it's the wrong thing to say when you've just had your hands tied behind your back and you have no advantages of which to speak.
Moriarty's got Sherlock pressed to the wall fast as lightning, smiling like the madman that he is, and his fingers are wrapped around Sherlock's neck. They're not squeezing, just resting, but Sherlock breathes a little more shallowly anyway.
"Fancy that," Moriarty says, words like designs burned out in velvet, "I've caught myself a little Holmes. He's all trapped - can't sing or cry out for help. More's the pity, wouldn't you say?"
Sherlock begins to say something, lips parting, and Moriarty really does squeeze then. He's still smiling, but now Sherlock can't breathe and the world is swimming in and out of focus. Moriarty lets go, and all the air comes back.
"Silly me," Moriarty purrs, "You can't talk, can you? No, of course not. You can't say anything that I don't want you to."
There's a curious lilt to Moriarty's words, a deranged glint in his eyes, and Sherlock knows better than to struggle. Sherlock's been tied up, hands almost going numb, and Moriarty's got a knife in his pocket. If Sherlock tries anything, he has no doubts that Moriarty will just stab him and say something about what a pity it is that everything has to die.
So he waits, watching Moriarty to try and find out what game he's playing.
open your eyes (on a new life)
Merlin; Arthur/Gwen/Lancelot/Merlin/Morgana, PG-13 | original
1.
When Merlin opens his eyes, he's never sure which life he'll wake up in and they're all a little blurry in his head. It isn't because he can't keep them straight, it's because they all tend to be so similar that Merlin has a hard time remembering they're different at all sometimes.
Gwen and Lancelot being siblings by blood isn't the sort of thing you forget, though. It's heartbeaking, Merlin thinks, because they're still drawn towards each other and Gwen still has Arthur, but Arthur's aware of the thing between Gwen and Lancelot with an acute awareness that he usually lacks.
Their bond here doesn't make Arthur angry. Instead, it seems to make him sad and neither Gwen or Lancelot know what to do with that. In the end, Arthur jumps.
2.
At least once (Merlin thinks it's more), Morgana is crazier and wilder than she was originally. She destroys the Arthur and Uther and anyone else within reach in a burst of flames that cannot be put out, including herself.
Merlin tries to stop it (he always tries to stop the disasters, and he always fails), but in the end everything burns.
3.
Once, Arthur kills Uther.
Merlin doesn't see it coming and cannot stop Arthur, can only watch as Arthur is handcuffed and taken away. Can only let Gwen cry on his shoulder as Morgana is stiff and unyeilding. Merlin knows it's because Arthur killed Uther for Morgana, but he doesn't tell them that. Instead, he tries to salvage the ruins of something broken beyond repair.
Arthur comes back a hollow shell and Merlin-without-magic cannot do anything to free him from the horrors inside his head.
4.
Merlin can't tell you what happens to any of the others in the life where the government takes him to exploit his magic and the bleeds him dry until Merlin is no longer a person, just a magical conduit powering the world.
5.
Not every life is worse than the last, though.
When Merlin opens his eyes in the twenty-first century, he wake up to a life where everything is happy. He doesn't know how it happens, but instead of being a secret, Gwen tells Arthur that she's attracted to Lancelot and Arthur's immediate reaction is to be upset. He calls Merlin, who listens and responds in all the right places until a single, crystal clear thought occurs to him.
"Arthur," Merlin says slowly, "Why can't she have you both?"
It's not what Arthur wants to hear, Merlin knows, but it seems to set things in motion differently. This time, Gwen loves both Arthur and Lancelot in public and somewhere along the line, Arthur realizes that he loves Merlin and Gwen and maybe Merlin loves Morgana. It's complicated, completely awful at times, but nothing goes wrong.
No one dies and even though they scream at each other sometimes, they're all happy. It's not perfect, of course, but Merlin think that maybe? Maybe it's his favorite life of all.
caught up in circles
Puella Magi Madoka Magica; Homura/Madoka, PG-13 | original
1.
Honmura isn't a magical girl, and she shouldn't be anywhere near Walpugis Night when it comes, but she follows after Mami and Madoka anyway. Mami doesn't make it, and Madoka barely manages to defeat Walpurgis Night by herself. She's dying, though, and Honmura can't stand it. She can't stand it at all, because this isn't how things are supposed to go. This is right.
Kyubey asks if she has a wish she would trade in order to become a Puella Magi and Honmura looks up at him. She has her wish, she knows exactly what she wants.
"I want to redo my meeting with Kaname-san," Honmura tells him, "Instead of being protected by her, I want to protect her!"
There's a bright flash of light and then Honmura reaches out to take her soul gem, feeling power course through her veins. Kyubey says something, but Honmura doesn't hear him. She turns back time and lets everything drop away.
2.
Honmura isn't strong enough.
She's clumsy and doesn't have any weapons of her own, instead stealing firearms and making bombs. Madoka's always supportive of her, but the others don't think she's worth their time. They'e right, because when Walpuris Night comes this time? Honmura is the only one left standing. She turns back time and spends an hour just sitting in her hospital bed with her face in her hands wishing she wasn't such a failure.
3.
Walpurgis Night comes again, and everyone runs themselves ragged trying to defeat it. Madoka does, and everything seems like it's going to be okay for one glorious moment before something in Madoka changes and a scream rips through the night. Honmura can only watch in horror as Madoka turns into a witch and she's frozen, unable to move, for a long moment before she sets back time to try again.
She will save Madoka, no matter what the cost.
4.
Mami goes crazy and kills Kyouko, which means Madoka has to kill Mami, and then it's just Madoka and Honmura. Madoka's crying and Honmura doesn't know what to do. This is not what she wanted.
She never wanted to be laying next to Madoka, soul gem nearly black, and saying things about how they'll destroy the world, burn everything. Madoka turns to face her, touching a grief seed to Honmura's soul gem. Everything in Honmura's veins runs cold when Madoka cries and asks Honmura to go back and make sure she never became a Puella Magi and to kill her so she doesn't become a witch.
Honmura swallows and pulls out her gun, shooting Madoka in the head and not looking as she turned back time.
5.
Honmura tries her hardest to keep Madoka from becoming a Puella Magi, but in the end she fails. She fails to defeat Walpurgis Night too, but it doesn't really matter. Madoka is hope now, an unseen spirit that watches over everything, and Honmura tries to be okay with that.
+1.
Honmura lifts her bow, sending a volley of arrows into the demons surrounding her. She refuses to let Madoka's sacrifice be in vain.
This entry originally posted here. Original entry currently has
comments. :D
fic_promptly or porn battle 13 fills.
monday mornings suck
The Social Network; Chris Hughes/Eduardo Saverin/Mark Zuckerberg, PG-13
"Mark," Eduardo says sternly, "get up."
"No."
Pulling the pillow over his head, Mark does his best to ignore the way that Eduardo is standing by the bed. He manages for exactly thirty seconds before Eduardo systematically strips all the blankets and sheets off the bed and Mark shivers.
"Mark," Eduardo repeats, "up. You have to get dressed."
"He's still not up?"
There's a amused lilt to Chris' voice, but Mark is more concerned with slowly shaking sleep away. He sits up and gropes for his laptop, still mostly asleep. Instead, Eduardo drops a pile of clothes into his hand. Mark looks down at them blankly.
"They're clothes," Chris says gently, "You put them on and then we go to this shareholder meeting."
"Code push," Mark mumbles, "can't."
Eduardo sighs and starts dressing Mark by force, "No. You are coming to this meeting."
"Code push."
It's a whine, but Mark would never admit to that. Buttoning Mark's shirt, Eduardo rolls his eyes and instead starts pulling on Mark's underwear. Mark is not particularly helpful in this venture, and Chris abuptly pulls Mark to his feet so Eduardo can finish dressing him. He puts his lips to Mark's ear.
"You are going to this meeting, Mark. You promised me."
"You had three fingers up my ass, I am not responsible for anything I said."
(you deserve) much better than we've had
Gay Pirates - Cosmo Jarvis; Narrator/Sebastian, R | original
You love Sebastian, but sometimes it's hard.
Sodomy isn't exactly approved of among the crew you've managed to land yourself in, and you can't so much as look at Sebastian during daylight without one of the crew pushing you down and sometimes whipping you. You would have left the ship a long time ago if it hadn't been for Sebastian. You stay for Sebastian, and Sebastian is tied to the boat for another year.
The struggle would be too much to bear if it were not for the blessed fact that one night every month or so the crew gets so drunk that they're out cold for three or four hours at the least.
It's on nights like those that you and Sebastian find each other, fingers intertwining and kissing like it might make up for every injustice you've both fallen to under these brutes. Sebastian clings to you the same way you cling to him: like it'll anchor you and keep you strong against the coming storm. You never tell him that it'll be okay, because the lie would be the worst thing you could do to him.
Instead, you say: "Let's go far away. Somewhere where the Captain won't be mad."
You say: "I wanna love you good."
Then you kiss him again, while your hand slips into his pants and your fingers curl around him, moving up and down to the rhythm of the waves rocking the boat. Sebastian's nails cut into your skin, a reminder of this for later, and you whisper of a life that you could live, one where you'd run a ship together and no one would be bullied for who they love.
You say: "I love you."
And you hope that's enough, even though you know it probably isn't. You know this, even as Sebastian spills into your hand.
Hope and love are the only things you have to offer, though, and so you give them to Sebastian with everything you have.
things I keep to myself
iCarly; Sam/Freddie, R | original
They don't tell Carly about this.
It's not that they don't trust her (she's their best friend, of course they trust her), or that they're ashamed of what they're doing. It's not for any stupid reason like that, but for the simple reason that what they do isn't really any of anyone's buisness so they can all stuff it. This is something for them and them alone.
The sight of Freddie, stretched out underneath her (on her bed with his fingers curled around her headboard) is something that Sam wants to keep for herself. It's for her, she thinks, and no one else gets to see Freddie like this because this thing between them just works. She's not sure that it'll ever stop working, but Sam never wants to think about that possibility anyway. There are more important things to think about, like the way Freddie is looking at her. It's expectant, and Sam just smiles.
Trailing her fingers down Freddie's chest, Sam watches him breathe. They're both quiet, which is something that Sam used to be surprised by, but isn't anymore. They don't really need words in situations like these. Words are for outside, with other people. When it's just the two of them, there's really no need.
Bending down, Sam kisses Freddie briefly before she lets her mouth follow the path of her fingers downward. With every fatherlight kiss, Freddie's breath hitches. Sam smiles into his skin and bites gently into the skin just above his hip.
"Sam," Freddie says.
It's not a prayer or a warning or anything, really. It's just her name, said as easy as breathing. Sam shifts, wrapping her lips around the head of Freddie's cock and sucking. Freddie says her name again, like it just come out whenever he exhales, and Sam likes that about him. Taking him in further, Sam presses a hand onto Freddie's hip, just a reminder that if he bucks up, she will end him.
Freddie's never been anything but exceedingly obedient about this, though. Well, aside from the first couple of fumbling, unsure times. Then everything had smoothed out until they were in sync. Sam goes at her task like she does everything else: with the kind of reckless abandon that usually ends you in jail. She knows that Freddie wouldn't have it any other way, though, because she knows him.
And maybe that's the core of why they don't tell anyone about this. No one would ever believe that they actually managed to make everything work, actually managed to keep their shit together long enough to work out everything that wasn't working. Sam smiles, though Freddie can't see it, and flicks her tongue over the head of his cock. He groans.
Besides, Sam thinks to herself, everyone knows she doesn't share things well.
but it's you
Gay Pirates - Cosmo Jarvis; Narrator/Sebastian, PG-13 | original
When you fall down into the water, you do not struggle. The water is warm with sun, and it keeps you afloat because as long as you do not fight, the sea will not forsake you. You knows this and Sebastian knows this, so the two of you are left to float in the sea.
It may be mere minutes or perhaps an hour later (time is meaningless when you are floating like seaweed or driftwood) when Sebastian, the beautiful boy worth risking everything for, somehow manages to get his hands free. Sebastian cuts your restraints too, a piece of broken glass clutched in his hand, and then the sea rocks him into you.
"I don't think this is what you meant when you said we should go far away," Sebastian says, still smiling somehow.
It is very much not what you meant and there isn't anything about the comment that should make you smile, but you do anyway. Because you can, you kiss Sebastian the way you never could on the ship. If you are to die, you do not want to die without having kissed Sebastian properly at least once. Besides, the kiss feels sweet with the taste of victory after so many nights being beaten by the crew. Sebastian wraps his arms around your neck and the rock of the waves isn't so different than being on a ship.
The water is mostly calm though and then, like some sort of sign from God, a bird flies overhead and throws a shadow onto you. The shape is wrong for an albatross, and Sebastian watches the bird dip down and soar low over the water.
"Would it be too much to hope," you say quietly, "that there might be land nearby?"
"Possibly," Sebastian says back, "but I would hate to doubt such an obvious sign."
Which is a fair enough point, as it is rare to see such an obvious sign. So, you swim and Sebastian follows you. The current pushes you along, and there is something like hope blossoming in you.
You have not been broken by what they have thrown.
from the shadows
Sherlock BBC; John Watson/Molly Hooper, R | original
Molly finds him first.
At the time, John doesn't know that Sherlock has given her strict orders to keep an eye on him and John doesn't want to see anyone so he lets her stand at his doorstep, knocking. She goes away eventually, but every Tuesday like clockwork, Molly shows up on his doorstep.
"John," she calls, "I know it's rough, but I brought you a cassarole. Are you going to come answer the door this week? No? Well, I'll just leave it here, then. Don't leave it sitting out for too long, John. Goodbye."
Some part of him wants to hate the fact that she's bringing him food like he can't take care of himself now that there's a huge, Sherlock-shaped hole in his life, but that's not it. He knows that's not what Molly means by it, because Molly leaves little notes on top of her cassarole dishes and writes him things like: Don't give up, John. Everything'll clear up fine.
John doesn't know if he believes her notes but the tenth time Molly shows up, John answers the door. There's a momentary hiccup, and then Molly is smiling and offering him this week's dish: a basket of muffins covered in a cheery gingham cloth. John takes them.
"I hope you like them," Molly says, "They're my grandmum's recipe. I'll leave you alone now, goodbye."
And just like that, Molly turns to leave. John's going to let her go until something clicks in his head and he stops her.
"Wait," John says, "would you . . . would you like to come in for tea?"
Molly smiles, "I'd love that."
It's as easy as that, John thinks. The two people half in love with Sherlock, missing something huge in their lives now that he's gone, find each other. People would say, if they didn't know, that Molly and John only began dating because they were both missing something. That's not it, though.
Because John's fought wars and maybe he'd been using those other girls he dated to get Sherlock out of his head, to lie to himself. Now that Sherlock's gone, John doesn't need to lie anymore. Besides, Molly isn't just any girl he picked up in a pub.
No, Molly's the girl who broke up with the world's greatest criminal mastermind. The girl who knows so much more than anyone knows and keeps her secrets close to her chest. So, when John kisses her the first time, she pulls away.
"I'm not Sherlock," she says simply.
John doesn't kiss her again until the time where Molly doesn't push him away, the time where her arms twine around him and pull him closer.
John says: "I'm not Sherlock."
It makes Molly laugh, bright and piercing like early sunshine through curtains.
"I wouldn't want you to be," Molly replies.
They stay at that level: breathtaking kisses and hands under shirts, for a long while, neither of them ready for anything else and then . . . Then Molly's shedding her clothes, slipping out of them, and John's taking it in while simultaneously shed his own clothes. They stumble into each other, finding each other, and John's got his fingers on Molly's hips.
He kisses down her body, aware of how everyone pales in the shadow of Sherlock until Sherlock is no longer there to cast a shadow. She's beautiful though, something John has always been aware of as a faint buzz in the back of his mind, and John takes his time before nudging her legs apart and settling down.
Molly gasps at the first touch of John's tongue, and it maybe takes a moment for him to explore her, discover her, but he knows when he's on the right track. Molly's fingers twist into the sheets and John squeezes her thighs, spreading them apart further to suck on her clit, to dip his tongue into her.
"John," Molly says, and John is strangely pleased by the fact that she's saying his name.
Not Sherlock's, not anyone else's. It's his name, and John smiles into what he's doing. He shifts, slipping a finger into her, and Molly arches up. She forgets herself a little and roots fingers in John's hair, tugging and letting out a breathless string of half-formed words that John drinks in with her taste.
After, when Molly is curling into him and not quite awake, he kisses her and thinks that maybe (hopefully) Sherlock being gone is not the end of the world.
(say nothing) that isn't permitted
BBC Sherlock; James Moriarty/Sherlock Holmes, R | original
As soon as the words are out of Sherlock's mouth, he realizes that it's the wrong thing to say when you've just had your hands tied behind your back and you have no advantages of which to speak.
Moriarty's got Sherlock pressed to the wall fast as lightning, smiling like the madman that he is, and his fingers are wrapped around Sherlock's neck. They're not squeezing, just resting, but Sherlock breathes a little more shallowly anyway.
"Fancy that," Moriarty says, words like designs burned out in velvet, "I've caught myself a little Holmes. He's all trapped - can't sing or cry out for help. More's the pity, wouldn't you say?"
Sherlock begins to say something, lips parting, and Moriarty really does squeeze then. He's still smiling, but now Sherlock can't breathe and the world is swimming in and out of focus. Moriarty lets go, and all the air comes back.
"Silly me," Moriarty purrs, "You can't talk, can you? No, of course not. You can't say anything that I don't want you to."
There's a curious lilt to Moriarty's words, a deranged glint in his eyes, and Sherlock knows better than to struggle. Sherlock's been tied up, hands almost going numb, and Moriarty's got a knife in his pocket. If Sherlock tries anything, he has no doubts that Moriarty will just stab him and say something about what a pity it is that everything has to die.
So he waits, watching Moriarty to try and find out what game he's playing.
open your eyes (on a new life)
Merlin; Arthur/Gwen/Lancelot/Merlin/Morgana, PG-13 | original
1.
When Merlin opens his eyes, he's never sure which life he'll wake up in and they're all a little blurry in his head. It isn't because he can't keep them straight, it's because they all tend to be so similar that Merlin has a hard time remembering they're different at all sometimes.
Gwen and Lancelot being siblings by blood isn't the sort of thing you forget, though. It's heartbeaking, Merlin thinks, because they're still drawn towards each other and Gwen still has Arthur, but Arthur's aware of the thing between Gwen and Lancelot with an acute awareness that he usually lacks.
Their bond here doesn't make Arthur angry. Instead, it seems to make him sad and neither Gwen or Lancelot know what to do with that. In the end, Arthur jumps.
2.
At least once (Merlin thinks it's more), Morgana is crazier and wilder than she was originally. She destroys the Arthur and Uther and anyone else within reach in a burst of flames that cannot be put out, including herself.
Merlin tries to stop it (he always tries to stop the disasters, and he always fails), but in the end everything burns.
3.
Once, Arthur kills Uther.
Merlin doesn't see it coming and cannot stop Arthur, can only watch as Arthur is handcuffed and taken away. Can only let Gwen cry on his shoulder as Morgana is stiff and unyeilding. Merlin knows it's because Arthur killed Uther for Morgana, but he doesn't tell them that. Instead, he tries to salvage the ruins of something broken beyond repair.
Arthur comes back a hollow shell and Merlin-without-magic cannot do anything to free him from the horrors inside his head.
4.
Merlin can't tell you what happens to any of the others in the life where the government takes him to exploit his magic and the bleeds him dry until Merlin is no longer a person, just a magical conduit powering the world.
5.
Not every life is worse than the last, though.
When Merlin opens his eyes in the twenty-first century, he wake up to a life where everything is happy. He doesn't know how it happens, but instead of being a secret, Gwen tells Arthur that she's attracted to Lancelot and Arthur's immediate reaction is to be upset. He calls Merlin, who listens and responds in all the right places until a single, crystal clear thought occurs to him.
"Arthur," Merlin says slowly, "Why can't she have you both?"
It's not what Arthur wants to hear, Merlin knows, but it seems to set things in motion differently. This time, Gwen loves both Arthur and Lancelot in public and somewhere along the line, Arthur realizes that he loves Merlin and Gwen and maybe Merlin loves Morgana. It's complicated, completely awful at times, but nothing goes wrong.
No one dies and even though they scream at each other sometimes, they're all happy. It's not perfect, of course, but Merlin think that maybe? Maybe it's his favorite life of all.
caught up in circles
Puella Magi Madoka Magica; Homura/Madoka, PG-13 | original
1.
Honmura isn't a magical girl, and she shouldn't be anywhere near Walpugis Night when it comes, but she follows after Mami and Madoka anyway. Mami doesn't make it, and Madoka barely manages to defeat Walpurgis Night by herself. She's dying, though, and Honmura can't stand it. She can't stand it at all, because this isn't how things are supposed to go. This is right.
Kyubey asks if she has a wish she would trade in order to become a Puella Magi and Honmura looks up at him. She has her wish, she knows exactly what she wants.
"I want to redo my meeting with Kaname-san," Honmura tells him, "Instead of being protected by her, I want to protect her!"
There's a bright flash of light and then Honmura reaches out to take her soul gem, feeling power course through her veins. Kyubey says something, but Honmura doesn't hear him. She turns back time and lets everything drop away.
2.
Honmura isn't strong enough.
She's clumsy and doesn't have any weapons of her own, instead stealing firearms and making bombs. Madoka's always supportive of her, but the others don't think she's worth their time. They'e right, because when Walpuris Night comes this time? Honmura is the only one left standing. She turns back time and spends an hour just sitting in her hospital bed with her face in her hands wishing she wasn't such a failure.
3.
Walpurgis Night comes again, and everyone runs themselves ragged trying to defeat it. Madoka does, and everything seems like it's going to be okay for one glorious moment before something in Madoka changes and a scream rips through the night. Honmura can only watch in horror as Madoka turns into a witch and she's frozen, unable to move, for a long moment before she sets back time to try again.
She will save Madoka, no matter what the cost.
4.
Mami goes crazy and kills Kyouko, which means Madoka has to kill Mami, and then it's just Madoka and Honmura. Madoka's crying and Honmura doesn't know what to do. This is not what she wanted.
She never wanted to be laying next to Madoka, soul gem nearly black, and saying things about how they'll destroy the world, burn everything. Madoka turns to face her, touching a grief seed to Honmura's soul gem. Everything in Honmura's veins runs cold when Madoka cries and asks Honmura to go back and make sure she never became a Puella Magi and to kill her so she doesn't become a witch.
Honmura swallows and pulls out her gun, shooting Madoka in the head and not looking as she turned back time.
5.
Honmura tries her hardest to keep Madoka from becoming a Puella Magi, but in the end she fails. She fails to defeat Walpurgis Night too, but it doesn't really matter. Madoka is hope now, an unseen spirit that watches over everything, and Honmura tries to be okay with that.
+1.
Honmura lifts her bow, sending a volley of arrows into the demons surrounding her. She refuses to let Madoka's sacrifice be in vain.
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