Yet More 3 Sentence Fics
Feb. 12th, 2021 02:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
violsvaMaybe if there is productive activity in one area I will actually go and listen to my microcontrollers lectures.
Three Sentence Ficathon is now at a new post, so if you were thinking "Oh god 50 pages of comments" now you can start there. It's fine, you don't need to read everything!
That said, these are mostly from the previous post.
Prompt: Marvel, Natasha/Clint, freckles
Despite the red hair, Natasha doesn’t get a single freckle—it seems so unlikely that Clint wonders sometimes if there’s a secret Red Room skin treatment or something for that. Natasha’s never said anything about it, though, and given that her mouth is currently tracing her way between the numerous freckles down his own abs it’s not like she wouldn’t have the opportunity.
Clint reflects, not for the first time, that your mind goes to the weirdest places sometimes during sex, and refocuses.
Prompt: Agent Carter, any of the Peggy-Jack-Daniel trio, wiping blood off someone's face
The blood on Jack’s face bothers Daniel, even though it’s probably not his own; he brushes at it with his handkerchief, but it’s dried and clings to his skin and he doesn’t want to scrub hard enough to wake the man up.
“You’re sure he’s just asleep?” he asks for the third time, even though he can see Jack’s eyes moving and hear his steady breathing.
“Positive,” Peggy says, “and the soup’s warmed—hopefully the smell will wake him up.”
Prompt: Narnia, any, cat lawyer
Of course Longwhisker would never be so impolite as to state it out loud, but she doesn’t think she’s alone among the Felines of the Inns of Cair Paravel in believing that Cats make the best lawyers. It stands to reason that they who were formed in close imitation of Aslan would thus imitate Him as well in wisdom and judgement.
She is not opposed to other species in the profession, nor does she approve of the hazing some of the younger barristers engage in, but she does think that those not fortunate enough to be Feline should at least ensure that they are not distracting to their fellows—a lawyer cannot be expected to be at their best in a court full of moving Birds, and such a situation gives an unfair disadvantage to their client.
Prompt: Hamlet, Hamlet/Horatio, inkstained fingers
A sequel of sorts to this, for the same prompt.
Hamlet had begun to think that Denmark was all the world, or even just Elsinore, and all the kingdoms and countries outside of it were but pleasant fantasies he’d had once long ago. And then appeared Horatio from Wittenberg, inarguably foreign, not caring for any of Elsinore’s court tricks, and he pulled him to his heart with relief. This, surely, was the man to bring a decent scholarly reality into Elsinore’s fleshy nights, to disrupt their darkness and discomfort with clarity, to push aside their heavy dust-covered velvet curtains with simple, calloused, ink-stained hands.
Prompt: The Little Mermaid, Prince/Princess/Mermaid, happy ending
She woke up near dawn on her wedding night, warm and not sure what had awakened her, until she saw a dark figure standing over her and froze, sure it was some enemy of hers or of her husband’s—but—
—but the eyes that stared back were as wide and frightened as her own, the shoulders as narrow, the hands holding the knife as delicate. It was a girl, and not any girl but the mute one who had danced so beautifully at their wedding that she had half fallen in love with her, and her hand on the knife was shaking.
“What has happened—what can you want here?” she asked, and the strange girl’s eyes brightened until tears fell out of them, so she pulled the girl into bed next to her—the knife dropped to the floor—and held her, hoping that human comfort and affection might do something to calm whatever terrified fit had brought her here tonight.
Prompt: Any, Any, if thine is the glory mine must be the shame
Alfred has written poetry too, poetry which now is best known for having been quoted in a vulgar law court during a trial for indecent offences. Everyone wants to talk about Oscar Wilde, as if Alfred, son of a Marquess, is nothing on his own, as if there is nothing else of interest about him.
If Oscar Wilde was the most brilliant playwright of his time, or whatever nonsense, then Alfred was only a net encumbering him, or worse still the rocks he was ruined upon; and that is a simply unbearable idea.
Prompt: Calvin and Hobbes, Susie, tea parties
The Honourable Mr. Bun is Lady Suzette Derkins’ closest confidant, and he has fine advice for her in her troubles with her schoolmates and the loathsome (Susie has just learned the word loathsome, and she uses it whenever possible) boy next door. Mr. Bun makes charming conversation, and his table manners are sublime. His unfortunate preference for raw carrots and celery over teacakes and candy can be forgiven in the face of all his other sterling qualities.
Prompt: Any, any, knitting
“Much too much work to do it all yourself, I never have the time,” her mother had said, tapping the knitting needles with her wand, and they rose into the air and began on a sleeve. “Here, let me show you the pattern spells, they’re in Agnes Kitchener’s book—”
“No thanks, I’m going flying,” Ginny had said. Now, she thinks of the unflattering colours and imprecise sizes, and Molly’s sharp offence when one of her automatically-knitted jumpers was unworn, as she looks at their Keeper’s fingers flying over gorgeous green cables.
“It’s not hard,” Seraphina says, catching her gaze. “I could teach you sometime.”
“Yeah,” Ginny says, “That’d be nice.”
Prompt: Cordelia (Movie Poster 2020), Woman/man, do you want to start a scandal
We all know about the movie poster fandom, right? If not, click here now.
“Do you want them all to know?” she whispered. “That you ruined me, that you can’t be trusted around young ladies, that you’re a rake, a bounder, a cad—do you want them to know that about you?”
“No,” he gasped into the wall, and she reached for his trouser-front and licked her lips at what she found there.
Three Sentence Ficathon is now at a new post, so if you were thinking "Oh god 50 pages of comments" now you can start there. It's fine, you don't need to read everything!
That said, these are mostly from the previous post.
Prompt: Marvel, Natasha/Clint, freckles
Despite the red hair, Natasha doesn’t get a single freckle—it seems so unlikely that Clint wonders sometimes if there’s a secret Red Room skin treatment or something for that. Natasha’s never said anything about it, though, and given that her mouth is currently tracing her way between the numerous freckles down his own abs it’s not like she wouldn’t have the opportunity.
Clint reflects, not for the first time, that your mind goes to the weirdest places sometimes during sex, and refocuses.
Prompt: Agent Carter, any of the Peggy-Jack-Daniel trio, wiping blood off someone's face
The blood on Jack’s face bothers Daniel, even though it’s probably not his own; he brushes at it with his handkerchief, but it’s dried and clings to his skin and he doesn’t want to scrub hard enough to wake the man up.
“You’re sure he’s just asleep?” he asks for the third time, even though he can see Jack’s eyes moving and hear his steady breathing.
“Positive,” Peggy says, “and the soup’s warmed—hopefully the smell will wake him up.”
Prompt: Narnia, any, cat lawyer
Of course Longwhisker would never be so impolite as to state it out loud, but she doesn’t think she’s alone among the Felines of the Inns of Cair Paravel in believing that Cats make the best lawyers. It stands to reason that they who were formed in close imitation of Aslan would thus imitate Him as well in wisdom and judgement.
She is not opposed to other species in the profession, nor does she approve of the hazing some of the younger barristers engage in, but she does think that those not fortunate enough to be Feline should at least ensure that they are not distracting to their fellows—a lawyer cannot be expected to be at their best in a court full of moving Birds, and such a situation gives an unfair disadvantage to their client.
Prompt: Hamlet, Hamlet/Horatio, inkstained fingers
A sequel of sorts to this, for the same prompt.
Hamlet had begun to think that Denmark was all the world, or even just Elsinore, and all the kingdoms and countries outside of it were but pleasant fantasies he’d had once long ago. And then appeared Horatio from Wittenberg, inarguably foreign, not caring for any of Elsinore’s court tricks, and he pulled him to his heart with relief. This, surely, was the man to bring a decent scholarly reality into Elsinore’s fleshy nights, to disrupt their darkness and discomfort with clarity, to push aside their heavy dust-covered velvet curtains with simple, calloused, ink-stained hands.
Prompt: The Little Mermaid, Prince/Princess/Mermaid, happy ending
She woke up near dawn on her wedding night, warm and not sure what had awakened her, until she saw a dark figure standing over her and froze, sure it was some enemy of hers or of her husband’s—but—
—but the eyes that stared back were as wide and frightened as her own, the shoulders as narrow, the hands holding the knife as delicate. It was a girl, and not any girl but the mute one who had danced so beautifully at their wedding that she had half fallen in love with her, and her hand on the knife was shaking.
“What has happened—what can you want here?” she asked, and the strange girl’s eyes brightened until tears fell out of them, so she pulled the girl into bed next to her—the knife dropped to the floor—and held her, hoping that human comfort and affection might do something to calm whatever terrified fit had brought her here tonight.
Prompt: Any, Any, if thine is the glory mine must be the shame
Alfred has written poetry too, poetry which now is best known for having been quoted in a vulgar law court during a trial for indecent offences. Everyone wants to talk about Oscar Wilde, as if Alfred, son of a Marquess, is nothing on his own, as if there is nothing else of interest about him.
If Oscar Wilde was the most brilliant playwright of his time, or whatever nonsense, then Alfred was only a net encumbering him, or worse still the rocks he was ruined upon; and that is a simply unbearable idea.
Prompt: Calvin and Hobbes, Susie, tea parties
The Honourable Mr. Bun is Lady Suzette Derkins’ closest confidant, and he has fine advice for her in her troubles with her schoolmates and the loathsome (Susie has just learned the word loathsome, and she uses it whenever possible) boy next door. Mr. Bun makes charming conversation, and his table manners are sublime. His unfortunate preference for raw carrots and celery over teacakes and candy can be forgiven in the face of all his other sterling qualities.
Prompt: Any, any, knitting
“Much too much work to do it all yourself, I never have the time,” her mother had said, tapping the knitting needles with her wand, and they rose into the air and began on a sleeve. “Here, let me show you the pattern spells, they’re in Agnes Kitchener’s book—”
“No thanks, I’m going flying,” Ginny had said. Now, she thinks of the unflattering colours and imprecise sizes, and Molly’s sharp offence when one of her automatically-knitted jumpers was unworn, as she looks at their Keeper’s fingers flying over gorgeous green cables.
“It’s not hard,” Seraphina says, catching her gaze. “I could teach you sometime.”
“Yeah,” Ginny says, “That’d be nice.”
Prompt: Cordelia (Movie Poster 2020), Woman/man, do you want to start a scandal
We all know about the movie poster fandom, right? If not, click here now.
“Do you want them all to know?” she whispered. “That you ruined me, that you can’t be trusted around young ladies, that you’re a rake, a bounder, a cad—do you want them to know that about you?”
“No,” he gasped into the wall, and she reached for his trouser-front and licked her lips at what she found there.