Three Sentence Fics
Feb. 15th, 2023 05:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
violsvaThe ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
threesentenceficathon is now closed for prompts, but remains open for fills forever. Here’s some more of mine, in all different fandoms; I will eventually post the last bunch of them once I’m sure there’s not going to be any more.
The Old Guard
Prompt: any, any, stories in the night
Andy knows you can’t force wisdom all at once. She knows it comes over time, one revelation, months of absorption, another revelation, years where it seems nothing has changed before actions begin to reflect thoughts—she knows this better than anyone else could.
But she also knows, finally, that her time is limited, so she tells Nile stories, almost every night—just the stories, leaving out the morals, hoping the narratives will hold on in Nile’s memory until their time to help.
Our Flag Means Death
Prompt: Any, Any, Here in town, you can tell he's been down for a while
But, my God, it's so beautiful when the boy smiles
Jimenez first sees him at Spanish Jackie’s bar.
She’s there to scope out the place, figure out who’s here and how to get at them, find the weak places and learn exactly who she has to kill. But there’s this man there, making a delivery and consulting with the bartender and redirecting a waiter before he makes a mistake—he’s quiet and organized and fades into the background in this loud dirty tavern, except that Jimenez has always known to watch what’s in the background, and now she can’t stop watching him.
Prompt: Disney | Any Princess/Prince (main pairing in a Disney Princess movie) | Role reversal (aka Belle was cursed into being the Beast, Eric made a deal with the Sea Witch, etc)
Snow White flees in terror through the dark woods, pursued by a thousand shapes and eyes and voices, and she doesn’t know how many of them are real and how many are the products of her own fears—
And then she finds herself in bright light, and stumbles to a stop. The clearing is filled with moonlight, making it almost as bright as day, highlighting the long strange shape in the centre.
It is a coffin, made of glass set in fine intricate gold, and inside it lies a young man, as if asleep, handsome and dark-haired and utterly unmoving.
Prompt: any, any, covered in kitties and disinclined to move
Marvel Comics, heavily implied Clint/Bucky/Natasha, as you might expect from me.
“Tasha?” Clint called from the other room. “Can you come help me with this?”
“Busy!”
He came into the main room, hands still covered in carbon fibre dust. “I need you to hold the whatsit so I can fit the thing—oh.” He held his face very still, looking at the two cats, one black and one white, grooming each other on her lap as she pretended to be absorbed in her book. “Busy. Okay.” He swallowed laughter and it came out as a squeak. “Sure.”
Prompt: any, any, this is how you lose the time war
They wrote a book about us in this thread, my darling crimson, from that first battlefield letter to—well, you can guess when. It’s well done, but what’s more surprising is that it was done at all: that we are reflected, as a story, in one set of strands of the times we passed through, without, I think, any effort or influence from either of us (though do let me know if I’m wrong; you know I love when you surprise me).
I’ve no idea how even the wildest of coincidences could lead to this, and so I think it isn’t one—I think what we have done has printed us across dreams and inspirations, my dear Queen of Wands, and I am fascinated to watch where these worlds go.
Prompt: DC universe, Batman, his rouges gallery (Batman has a very extensive lipstick collection)
(Vi, have you even read any Batman comics? Well, technically yes.)
Bruce Wayne can experiment, but only within very careful limits. Part of his purpose is to be boring—to not stand out from a hundred other boring heterosexual performatively masculine rich kids, definitely not to draw any attention that will send reporters hoping for scandals into the seedy alleyways of Gotham after dark.
But in those alleyways, in the shadows, shadowed further by a mask, Batman can have lips as red as blood, as pink as peonies, as purple as a foggy night sky, and if anyone manages to notice they won’t dare comment.
(At least, no one but the kids and Barbara. That’s okay.)
Goodbye Earl - The Chicks
Prompt: Any, Any, And I know you don't remember calling me
But I told you even then you looked so pretty
In your hospital bed, I remember you said
You were scared
And so am I
“I don’t care,” Mary Ann said, leaning forward, “I don’t care, Wanda, there’s nothin’ in Atlanta or anywhere else for me that’s worth losin’ you, got it?”
Wanda gripped her hand tightly and whispered, “Mary Ann—”
“We’re gonna fix this,” Mary Ann said, “and then I’ll move back here, and then—then we’ll figure it out as we go, that’s all.”
Original D&D-ish fantasy, warrior/mage
Prompt: Any, any, “I’d like to be a damsel some day.” from this tumblr post
Thandris had not expected the last dragon. It was not as large or as fierce as many of the others, but she had done nothing but fight for a week now, and she was so exhausted, and the levy of men from the village were more exhausted still, and she had saved none of her strength for this.
And then there was a crash of thunder, and lightning flashed down and struck the dragon, despite the taller trees around it—and when she looked back, there was Shallissa, who she thought she had left safe at home at the University, standing on the back of a carriage, hands spread to the sky, directing the storm to save her.
threesentenceficathon is now closed for prompts, but remains open for fills forever. Here’s some more of mine, in all different fandoms; I will eventually post the last bunch of them once I’m sure there’s not going to be any more.The Old Guard
Prompt: any, any, stories in the night
Andy knows you can’t force wisdom all at once. She knows it comes over time, one revelation, months of absorption, another revelation, years where it seems nothing has changed before actions begin to reflect thoughts—she knows this better than anyone else could.
But she also knows, finally, that her time is limited, so she tells Nile stories, almost every night—just the stories, leaving out the morals, hoping the narratives will hold on in Nile’s memory until their time to help.
Our Flag Means Death
Prompt: Any, Any, Here in town, you can tell he's been down for a while
But, my God, it's so beautiful when the boy smiles
Jimenez first sees him at Spanish Jackie’s bar.
She’s there to scope out the place, figure out who’s here and how to get at them, find the weak places and learn exactly who she has to kill. But there’s this man there, making a delivery and consulting with the bartender and redirecting a waiter before he makes a mistake—he’s quiet and organized and fades into the background in this loud dirty tavern, except that Jimenez has always known to watch what’s in the background, and now she can’t stop watching him.
Prompt: Disney | Any Princess/Prince (main pairing in a Disney Princess movie) | Role reversal (aka Belle was cursed into being the Beast, Eric made a deal with the Sea Witch, etc)
Snow White flees in terror through the dark woods, pursued by a thousand shapes and eyes and voices, and she doesn’t know how many of them are real and how many are the products of her own fears—
And then she finds herself in bright light, and stumbles to a stop. The clearing is filled with moonlight, making it almost as bright as day, highlighting the long strange shape in the centre.
It is a coffin, made of glass set in fine intricate gold, and inside it lies a young man, as if asleep, handsome and dark-haired and utterly unmoving.
Prompt: any, any, covered in kitties and disinclined to move
Marvel Comics, heavily implied Clint/Bucky/Natasha, as you might expect from me.
“Tasha?” Clint called from the other room. “Can you come help me with this?”
“Busy!”
He came into the main room, hands still covered in carbon fibre dust. “I need you to hold the whatsit so I can fit the thing—oh.” He held his face very still, looking at the two cats, one black and one white, grooming each other on her lap as she pretended to be absorbed in her book. “Busy. Okay.” He swallowed laughter and it came out as a squeak. “Sure.”
Prompt: any, any, this is how you lose the time war
They wrote a book about us in this thread, my darling crimson, from that first battlefield letter to—well, you can guess when. It’s well done, but what’s more surprising is that it was done at all: that we are reflected, as a story, in one set of strands of the times we passed through, without, I think, any effort or influence from either of us (though do let me know if I’m wrong; you know I love when you surprise me).
I’ve no idea how even the wildest of coincidences could lead to this, and so I think it isn’t one—I think what we have done has printed us across dreams and inspirations, my dear Queen of Wands, and I am fascinated to watch where these worlds go.
Prompt: DC universe, Batman, his rouges gallery (Batman has a very extensive lipstick collection)
(Vi, have you even read any Batman comics? Well, technically yes.)
Bruce Wayne can experiment, but only within very careful limits. Part of his purpose is to be boring—to not stand out from a hundred other boring heterosexual performatively masculine rich kids, definitely not to draw any attention that will send reporters hoping for scandals into the seedy alleyways of Gotham after dark.
But in those alleyways, in the shadows, shadowed further by a mask, Batman can have lips as red as blood, as pink as peonies, as purple as a foggy night sky, and if anyone manages to notice they won’t dare comment.
(At least, no one but the kids and Barbara. That’s okay.)
Goodbye Earl - The Chicks
Prompt: Any, Any, And I know you don't remember calling me
But I told you even then you looked so pretty
In your hospital bed, I remember you said
You were scared
And so am I
“I don’t care,” Mary Ann said, leaning forward, “I don’t care, Wanda, there’s nothin’ in Atlanta or anywhere else for me that’s worth losin’ you, got it?”
Wanda gripped her hand tightly and whispered, “Mary Ann—”
“We’re gonna fix this,” Mary Ann said, “and then I’ll move back here, and then—then we’ll figure it out as we go, that’s all.”
Original D&D-ish fantasy, warrior/mage
Prompt: Any, any, “I’d like to be a damsel some day.” from this tumblr post
Thandris had not expected the last dragon. It was not as large or as fierce as many of the others, but she had done nothing but fight for a week now, and she was so exhausted, and the levy of men from the village were more exhausted still, and she had saved none of her strength for this.
And then there was a crash of thunder, and lightning flashed down and struck the dragon, despite the taller trees around it—and when she looked back, there was Shallissa, who she thought she had left safe at home at the University, standing on the back of a carriage, hands spread to the sky, directing the storm to save her.