Fic Tuesday

[numberthree]

Your challenge if you accept it:

Drop your character list below (and any other characters you played earlier), and then while waiting for your fellow players to drop you prompts for any/all characters/etc., wander around and drop prompts (lyrics, images, anything your heart can think to) on other players. No requirements to fill these prompts, no guilt if the inspiration doesn't strike, only fun and possible drabbles, snippets, and fics here, whether you're reading or writing!

Comments

Amanda ❤

[numberthree]

Starting us out, because I've been missing these from my past and am feeling inspired to see if this can get my writing back to flowing since the depressing break & back to school stress shut everything down hard.


My Characters
Allison Hargreeves
Padme Amidala
Jean Grey [Earlier Character]

Also, willing to take prompts on anyone in the menagerie, if they strike your fancy.

[batgirl_babs]

Padme, preparing for a speech? :)

Re: Amanda ❤

[kraythero]

Padmè, domestic fluff.

Esp: learning to cook this weird Earth food

[photophobic]

I wanted to ask for it but worried it was a little too self-indulgent... but now you asked first:

I'd love anything about Padme's thoughts/feelings about Kylo and any sense she might have of a connection there..... ToT

[resoluteandunyielding]

The one thing people forget about Padme until they realize and then can never forget it at all because every lack of a tell is suddenly a tell, is how astute she is. The absolution of her canniness among the highest skills that appointed her the youngest monarch in untold time, and the first one to take them to war, to give them a defensive stance of planet protection in thousands of years, even at the age of fourteen.

It's not without small moments, this new friendship she's made (and she thinks it is a friendship, even though she thinks that he would freeze and recoil if the word were placed between; a skimming stone to her, a cracked reactor to him).

That were it only for the expansive height, reliance on black clothes, and general razor edged movements and words, she thinks she would never have pursued this at the beginning. But there is an intensity to him that she cannot miss rivets to her. Wariness at the edge of those eyes, as though an animal ready to lunge in attack or chew off their own leg to escape all in that same second. Absolution in the confusion of which is the right reaction and everything worse for it.

And deeper, stronger, somehow more intense and more gaurded than even all that, a hunger, bleeding pain that lasts only in the most fleeting of seconds. When she catches him staring at her before she'd realized he was at an event. When he suddenly turns toward her sharply, scrutinizing her like she's said something surprising, something perhaps wrong for being right, searching her eyes with a suspicion that boarders on brutal and begs this universe to find the lie.

She knows that there is something there. She's too smart not to see it.
A story she doesn't understand but realized lies somehow between them.
Like Leia's burning anger, and Luke's plaintive, regetful, guilt.


She has begun to count these moments,
grains of sand, drops of water,
stars in the night sky,

But she hasn't pushed.


(She married Anakin, didn't she?

She knows what it is to love something you can not tame. To never want to. To be grateful for its love, and to withstand the terrorized idea of its loss when the passion of its focus, anger, indealism has drawn it somewhere far, far, far away from your side, for both better and worse.

She knows most of all how to wait.)


She knows something is there, something deep and sharp and angry as it is sad and wounded and desperately hungry.

That there is a pit of sharpened rocks between her and it, between it and him. But that he's still sitting on that other edge. By choosing to stand next to her, continuing to have conversations about art and politics, about families and foreign universes. A game with little reveal where she is certain now every word is one that matters, that is weighed. (That is being kept.)

But she has time. They both have time.
It's what this place is made of most.

[deadlycurves]

Allison - Things she thinks-knows-believes in her heart of hearts about Diego but could never put into words directly to him

Sara - Love lost

Jo - Most current multiverse version of her seeing her mother in the next multiverse bouncing ball place she nebulously lands (for ease’s sake— make it a MoM AU? Your choice tho!)

(You knew, right? Trio of fighty blondes fffforeverrrr)