Having Written So Much Bedsharing In 2024, Perhaps It's Apt That I Ended It By Getting Into TCOAAL.
Some more fills for the 2025 Three-Sentence Ficathon, now on its second prompt post!
Kingdom Hearts, Kairi and Riku, 200 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'sidelined from the action'.
“I’m going to find Sora,” Riku says. “Wait for us; I’ll bring him right-”
“No,” Kairi says.
Riku cuts himself off. “No?”
“I’ve done enough waiting. I’m tired of being left behind.” She calls her keyblade into her hand. “The whole reason I did all that training was so I’d be able to help. I’m coming with you.”
Riku seems to hesitate.
“If it makes the answer any easier,” Kairi says, “I’m not asking.”
“It’ll be dangerous.”
Kairi lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Sounds like you’ll need help, then.”
He looks like he’s bracing himself to say something. Kairi calls every argument she can think of to the tip of her tongue: all those imagined conversations just like this one. She used to rehearse them in her mind while lying awake at night, not knowing if her friends were alive or dead.
“It’d be good to have you there,” Riku says at last. “If you’re sure.”
She’s been feeling so distant from him and Sora lately, the two of them always having adventures without her. She can see her friend in him again, suddenly, and she hurtles into him in a hug so violent it startles them both into laughing.
Danganronpa 2, Hinata and Kuzuryuu, 160 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'Looking back, my past / It all seems stranger than a stranger.'
“So many people hate me,” Hinata says. “It’s weird to think about. I can’t even say they’re wrong; it’s just... I don’t know. It’s hard to believe I even did those things. But I guess I did, and now I just have to live with being that person.” He pauses. “I just wish I knew how to deal with that.”
Kuzuryuu lets out a short, quiet laugh. It’s not the response Hinata was expecting.
“What’s so funny?” Hinata asks.
“So you’re saying you need advice,” Kuzuryuu says. “From someone who has experience with being hated. From someone who might have done things they aren’t proud of. From a yakuza, for example?”
Hinata looks at him for a long moment.
“I did think you were handling this better than the rest of us,” he admits at last.
“Stick with me,” Kuzuryuu advises him. “I’ll help if I can. Might as well try to do something good for once.”
Severance, Mark S, 210 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'talking to the mirror'.
“Why did you give me this?” Mark asks his own reflection.
Graner’s key card is burning a hole in his pocket. He wants to brandish it in his own face.
Probably shouldn’t risk it; he doesn’t know if he’s being watched. It might have been a mistake to speak aloud at all.
But why is it there? Does his outie know Graner; did he steal this? Does his outie know how desperate they are in here?
The answers must be in his skull somewhere. A part of him wants to break his own head open and dig through it until he finds them.
He used to wonder about his outie a lot: who created him, why? Eventually, his outie became a stranger in his mind, pretty much irrelevant. He’d never know the other side of himself; what was the point of speculating?
For the first time, he’s looking at his outie - or, well, at himself in the mirror; it’s as close as he’ll ever get - and seeing an ally, maybe. He doesn’t know why his outie has Graner’s key card. But his outie gave it to him, and that can’t be an accident.
Thanks, he tells the mirror, in his head. I’ll try to do something for you.
Uncharted, Nate and Elena, 140 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'a different kind of treasure'.
This ledge is solid rock, nowhere to hide treasure, nowhere to dig. There’s nothing here. Did they miss something?
Nate stares out across the sands. Replays the diary’s words in his head: mountains of gold, a sea of riches to feast the eye upon-
Oh, goddammit.
“It’s a metaphor,” he says. “The treasure is the view.”
Dunes of golden sand sweeping down to the shoreline, the glittering ocean beyond. Yeah, it’s a nice view, but they can’t sell it for cold hard cash.
“Well, hey,” Elena says, “at least you can’t destroy this one.”
“Not with that attitude,” Nate says. “I can’t believe this. We’ve been searching for weeks.”
Elena leans against his side, puts her arm around his back. “We had fun, though, didn’t we?”
He looks down at her for a moment. Finds himself smiling. “Yeah. Yeah, we did.”
The Coffin of Andy and Leyley, Andrew and Ashley, 120 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'you slept in my bed / and if I kept quiet / I could hear all the voices in your head'.
The night of Nina’s death - or the night of the day they find her body, God, they don’t even know how long it took her to die in there - Leyley crawls into Andy’s bed and tucks her back against his chest, just like any other night.
Is she thinking about it at all? They killed someone; does she even understand how serious that is?
No. She killed someone. Andy said he didn’t want to at every step, he wouldn’t even have thought about doing this without her. This is Leyley’s fault.
This shouldn’t have happened. He hates her.
But he’s glad he’s not alone right now.
He wraps an arm around her and buries his face in her shoulder.
The Coffin of Andy and Leyley, Andrew and Ashley, 280 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'cultivating codependency'.
“Stop wandering around,” Ashley says, through a yawn. “It’s weird. I’m trying to sleep.”
Andrew hadn’t really registered that he’s been pacing the bedroom. Mom and Dad are still up, watching television; he’s bracing himself to go through and have the time-for-me-to-move-out conversation. It’s going to be worse to have it with Ashley afterwards, but at least she can’t legally stop him.
He’s always told himself he’ll get out of this apartment the second he turns sixteen. Eighteen, if Mom won’t give him permission. She’s probably be glad to be rid of one of her kids, but maybe she’ll insist on keeping him here, just because she might actually have to look after her fucking daughter otherwise.
He’s sixteen now. He has a job, he has income. Not enough for anywhere nice, but enough for somewhere that isn’t here.
Ashley’s going to be pissed as hell. That’s fine. He’s going to have his own place with his own bed, his own space; he won’t have to deal with his sister clinging to him all night and half of the day. He’ll have his own life, he’ll make new friends.
And they’ll figure out who he is, and they’ll leave. He’s a bad person, there’s something wrong with him, just like Ashley’s always said. And, if he leaves her here, she might actually follow through on her threat of telling everyone what they did to Nina.
Now that moving out is actually theoretically within his reach, he guesses he has to admit to himself that it’s always just been a fantasy.
He climbs into Ashley’s bed and buries his face in her hair.
“I fucking hate you, Ashley,” he mutters.
Ashley just laughs at him.
I'm slightly embarrassed by the 'buries his face in her shoulder'/'buries his face in her hair' repetition across the two Andy and Leyley fills. Look, these two do a lot of weird bedsharing, and 'buries' is so thematically appropriate that I genuinely could not bring myself to write 'presses his face into her hair' instead.
Kingdom Hearts, Kairi and Riku, 200 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'sidelined from the action'.
“I’m going to find Sora,” Riku says. “Wait for us; I’ll bring him right-”
“No,” Kairi says.
Riku cuts himself off. “No?”
“I’ve done enough waiting. I’m tired of being left behind.” She calls her keyblade into her hand. “The whole reason I did all that training was so I’d be able to help. I’m coming with you.”
Riku seems to hesitate.
“If it makes the answer any easier,” Kairi says, “I’m not asking.”
“It’ll be dangerous.”
Kairi lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Sounds like you’ll need help, then.”
He looks like he’s bracing himself to say something. Kairi calls every argument she can think of to the tip of her tongue: all those imagined conversations just like this one. She used to rehearse them in her mind while lying awake at night, not knowing if her friends were alive or dead.
“It’d be good to have you there,” Riku says at last. “If you’re sure.”
She’s been feeling so distant from him and Sora lately, the two of them always having adventures without her. She can see her friend in him again, suddenly, and she hurtles into him in a hug so violent it startles them both into laughing.
Danganronpa 2, Hinata and Kuzuryuu, 160 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'Looking back, my past / It all seems stranger than a stranger.'
“So many people hate me,” Hinata says. “It’s weird to think about. I can’t even say they’re wrong; it’s just... I don’t know. It’s hard to believe I even did those things. But I guess I did, and now I just have to live with being that person.” He pauses. “I just wish I knew how to deal with that.”
Kuzuryuu lets out a short, quiet laugh. It’s not the response Hinata was expecting.
“What’s so funny?” Hinata asks.
“So you’re saying you need advice,” Kuzuryuu says. “From someone who has experience with being hated. From someone who might have done things they aren’t proud of. From a yakuza, for example?”
Hinata looks at him for a long moment.
“I did think you were handling this better than the rest of us,” he admits at last.
“Stick with me,” Kuzuryuu advises him. “I’ll help if I can. Might as well try to do something good for once.”
Severance, Mark S, 210 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'talking to the mirror'.
“Why did you give me this?” Mark asks his own reflection.
Graner’s key card is burning a hole in his pocket. He wants to brandish it in his own face.
Probably shouldn’t risk it; he doesn’t know if he’s being watched. It might have been a mistake to speak aloud at all.
But why is it there? Does his outie know Graner; did he steal this? Does his outie know how desperate they are in here?
The answers must be in his skull somewhere. A part of him wants to break his own head open and dig through it until he finds them.
He used to wonder about his outie a lot: who created him, why? Eventually, his outie became a stranger in his mind, pretty much irrelevant. He’d never know the other side of himself; what was the point of speculating?
For the first time, he’s looking at his outie - or, well, at himself in the mirror; it’s as close as he’ll ever get - and seeing an ally, maybe. He doesn’t know why his outie has Graner’s key card. But his outie gave it to him, and that can’t be an accident.
Thanks, he tells the mirror, in his head. I’ll try to do something for you.
Uncharted, Nate and Elena, 140 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'a different kind of treasure'.
This ledge is solid rock, nowhere to hide treasure, nowhere to dig. There’s nothing here. Did they miss something?
Nate stares out across the sands. Replays the diary’s words in his head: mountains of gold, a sea of riches to feast the eye upon-
Oh, goddammit.
“It’s a metaphor,” he says. “The treasure is the view.”
Dunes of golden sand sweeping down to the shoreline, the glittering ocean beyond. Yeah, it’s a nice view, but they can’t sell it for cold hard cash.
“Well, hey,” Elena says, “at least you can’t destroy this one.”
“Not with that attitude,” Nate says. “I can’t believe this. We’ve been searching for weeks.”
Elena leans against his side, puts her arm around his back. “We had fun, though, didn’t we?”
He looks down at her for a moment. Finds himself smiling. “Yeah. Yeah, we did.”
The Coffin of Andy and Leyley, Andrew and Ashley, 120 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'you slept in my bed / and if I kept quiet / I could hear all the voices in your head'.
The night of Nina’s death - or the night of the day they find her body, God, they don’t even know how long it took her to die in there - Leyley crawls into Andy’s bed and tucks her back against his chest, just like any other night.
Is she thinking about it at all? They killed someone; does she even understand how serious that is?
No. She killed someone. Andy said he didn’t want to at every step, he wouldn’t even have thought about doing this without her. This is Leyley’s fault.
This shouldn’t have happened. He hates her.
But he’s glad he’s not alone right now.
He wraps an arm around her and buries his face in her shoulder.
The Coffin of Andy and Leyley, Andrew and Ashley, 280 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'cultivating codependency'.
“Stop wandering around,” Ashley says, through a yawn. “It’s weird. I’m trying to sleep.”
Andrew hadn’t really registered that he’s been pacing the bedroom. Mom and Dad are still up, watching television; he’s bracing himself to go through and have the time-for-me-to-move-out conversation. It’s going to be worse to have it with Ashley afterwards, but at least she can’t legally stop him.
He’s always told himself he’ll get out of this apartment the second he turns sixteen. Eighteen, if Mom won’t give him permission. She’s probably be glad to be rid of one of her kids, but maybe she’ll insist on keeping him here, just because she might actually have to look after her fucking daughter otherwise.
He’s sixteen now. He has a job, he has income. Not enough for anywhere nice, but enough for somewhere that isn’t here.
Ashley’s going to be pissed as hell. That’s fine. He’s going to have his own place with his own bed, his own space; he won’t have to deal with his sister clinging to him all night and half of the day. He’ll have his own life, he’ll make new friends.
And they’ll figure out who he is, and they’ll leave. He’s a bad person, there’s something wrong with him, just like Ashley’s always said. And, if he leaves her here, she might actually follow through on her threat of telling everyone what they did to Nina.
Now that moving out is actually theoretically within his reach, he guesses he has to admit to himself that it’s always just been a fantasy.
He climbs into Ashley’s bed and buries his face in her hair.
“I fucking hate you, Ashley,” he mutters.
Ashley just laughs at him.
I'm slightly embarrassed by the 'buries his face in her shoulder'/'buries his face in her hair' repetition across the two Andy and Leyley fills. Look, these two do a lot of weird bedsharing, and 'buries' is so thematically appropriate that I genuinely could not bring myself to write 'presses his face into her hair' instead.