Three Sentence Ficathon

[violsva]

threesentenceficathon is happening again—or in fact has been happening for most of two weeks now, but I haven’t gotten around to posting about it. Full time work is theft (Proudhon, 1840).

Here’s mine so far, all from the first post although the second post is open for prompts now.

The Blue Castle

Prompt: The Blue Castle, Barney/Valancy, first snowfall of the season

Barney had expected Valancy’s entrance into his life to add some domesticity, some comforts—perhaps a little more convention, in spite of herself—all solid, home-like, comfortable things, valuable in their way and appreciated, but not at all magical. Magic was what she wanted from him, from Mistawis, and he was happy to give it to her.

But here she was at dawn, his old coat wrapped over her nightgown, bobbed hair flying around her face as she spun, hands and eyes and mouth open to the first snowflakes, and her innocent joy was more magical than anything he could find anywhere else.

Prompt: any, any, the night before the wedding

Valancy knew she was supposed to get advice from her mother before her wedding, but she certainly wasn’t going to tell her mother or any other Stirling about her marriage before it was a fait accompli; nor did she expect Mrs. Frederick Stirling would have anything particularly helpful to say.

She did still wish a little for someone to talk to—in fact, specifically for Cissy. She had talked about everything with Cissy, and she didn’t want advice—she didn’t want anything new—just that sweet, fragile, but somehow comforting presence that would never be there again.

Carmilla

Prompt: any, any romantic, Baby our love song must survive

My dear Carmilla, my darling nightmare, you cannot have died in pools of blood in a ruin, you cannot have disappeared when you still haunt me so. I dream of you still, my dearest sickness, and you are still within me, I am sure, and surely those dreams can make you come again, as you came out of nowhere into my life.

All I can do with my dreams myself is write them down, draw you in ink, so at least you are known, and can be known further, can at least spring to life in other minds than mine.

Prompt: any, any, annoyed about the complicated skin care routine they have to keep up in order to not have their face hurt
Some kind of modern goth AU

If it’s very cloudy, and she wears a hat, and she cakes on most of a jar of foundation, Carmilla can go outside during the day. Usually she carries an umbrella as well—these days, a parasol, to go with the gloves and eyeliner and layers of petticoats.

She didn’t have the parasol today, and the sun came out unexpectedly, and this evening she covers her face with a thick layer of aloe gel and makes plans to stay away from clearly lit spaces for the next few weeks; it was so much easier hiding the burns when the only artificial lighting was candlelight.

Band Sinister - K. J. Charles

Prompt: Any, any, that game you taught me how to play, I won it
Done much fluffier than the previous interpretations of the prompt.

Guy pulled out of Philip and collapsed onto him, grinning. Philip couldn’t do anything but blink adoringly at the ceiling.

“That was good?” Guy asked, and Philip just laughed breathlessly.

Dimension 20: The Ravening War

Prompt: any, any, monsters are better at loving than heroes
The good thing about writing in tiny fandoms is fewer people to check your facts if you don’t want to go back and do a full canon refresh!

Karna has never told anyone the truth of her bargain with the Hungry One, and she isn’t going to start with Deli. He still believes—no, he knows—that he is fighting for justice, for the strength of the Meatlands and the secret truths of Destiny’s Architects, and if that isn’t enough to make her disgust him, well, the horrible, blasphemous rot that comes with her powers certainly will.

Karna doesn’t believe in justice herself, of course, but she does, now, believe in love.