well, would ya lookie there!

[alliecat8]

I've been playing in my WIP folder, and there's good news and bad news. The bad news is, there's no pr0n that's near enough to being finished in time for a Valentine's Day post. Y'all will just have to accept my undying love instead. ♥

The good news is, I found a finished drabble and had one of those big ol' shiny *eureka!* moments. 'Cause I only have 2 prompts to go before I'm done with psych_30 -- "Sociopath" and "Inferiority Complex." I'm *thisclose* to being through with some J/S smut that fits the "inferiority complex" prompt, and this drabble works for the other one. Warning: It's not at all Valentine-y. In fact, it's pretty grim. But it FITS, by gum, so I'll allow it to exist. Sawyer POV.



Coldly, he killed without remorse. He killed for the second time that week. For the third time since the crash. For the fourth time in three months.

Back home, that would make him a serial killer. Here, to the people who are beginning to look to him as a leader, it makes him a hero.

To himself, it makes him the Tin Man. When he killed the Real Mr. Sawyer, he’d felt remorse for the last time. Now he’s a man without a heart. It’s no use, trying to love Kate, trying to be Jack’s friend. Empty people can’t feel.

Comments

[eponine119.livejournal.com]

You remember I was telling you about my list of notes? One of them was about the Tin Man. ♥

I really like the structure in the first paragraph, and the insight in the second. The last line, poor Sawyer. *snuggles him*

[alliecat8.livejournal.com]

Do you do what I do in notes -- scribble down a word or a phrase that seems SO evocative when you write it, but then you can't remember what it's supposed to evoke the next time you see it? Or is that strictly a lamebrained-Allie thing? ;)

Thank you for reading this! I know it wasn't much, but hey, if it fills a prompt it deserves to live, that's my motto!

[eponine119.livejournal.com]

That's what I do! Some of them I can't even read anymore. But I remember the Tin Man one...I think it's a cliche but I'm probably going to write it. Maybe even tonight.