Who remembers that fic-line meme from the other day? cathedral-junki apparently does. Alas, I apparently forget that the quote, Not just a little bit; catastrophically, planet-smashingly, incalculably, crap-where-are-the-paddles wrong.
comes from “The Worst Time-Travel Fic in the Fandom”.
Oh well.
So here you go, cathedral-junki; your Sigki pr0n drabble. Okay, it’s strictly-speaking, a) not pr0n (I like to think it’s “tastefully vague”), and b) not a drabble (it’s 161 words), but… um. Enjoy?
The first thing is the heat. Vast and scorching, blazing enough to shear flesh, melt fat, crumble bones. Every time he thinks that this is the time; the time he won’t survive, the time he’ll be turned to ash for daring to hold such a raging inferno.
The second thing is the smell. Deep and rich like loam and cinnamon and ash, layered above something ancient and animal. Something inhuman. Sometimes he’ll catch a hint of that smell elsewhere — at a bonfire, in a bakery, in the garden — and the memory will turn him a colour that rivals Loki’s hair at its most outrageous.
The third thing is the silence. Once upon a time Sigmund told himself the only thing he’d ever need in a relationship was to hear his partner say I love you. Nowadays he thinks perhaps that being allowed to hold the fire and not be burned is as close as he’s ever going to get.
Things I have learnt:
- I am bad at Sigmund/Loki pr0n. Oddly enough, it’s always something I’ve thought I’d leave up to the fanficcers; and
- I am terrible at drabbles.
Amazing.
P.S. The game’s still open, if anyone else wants to play…