rthstewart | Three Sentence Ficathon

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Three Sentence Ficathon

UPDATE! EDIT!
We're running into the Dreamwidth comment limits so all new prompts should be posted here Keep responding to and filling already posted prompts here, but all new ones should go to the new thread!

Someone did this banner for me a couple of years ago. It's great, isn't it? ~~If it was you, please step up and take a bow!~~
It was

st_aurafina! Thank you again!

caramelsilver ran one last year on Livejournal and I did two over here a few years ago. We'll keep it open until January 31, 2019 which should give everyone time to play a little. This is a delightful part of the online fandom community.

What is the 3 Sentence Ficathon?
This is a challenge where you answer a prompt with a fic consisting of only three sentences. It's open to all fandoms and you can post and answer as many prompts as you like, as many times as you want.

What do I do first?
You post prompts! When posting a prompt please format it this way:

fandom, character(s), prompt word/sentence.

Only one prompt per comment please. So, for example,

Star Wars, Obi-Wan Kenobi, I don't like sand."

What else?
You answer other posters' prompts in three sentences (or more if you can't stop yourself) and fill as many prompts as you want, as many times as you wish. If you see that a prompt you loved has already been filled, go ahead and fill it again! Multiple fills of the same prompt are allowed and even encouraged! (We get really fun stories going this way).

Can I still post if I need more than 3 sentences? Or should I just abuse grammar in ways the English language never contemplated?
Yes. Yes.

But I'm not a member of Dreamwidth
No problem. You can comment anonymously or through open ID

Can anyone play?
Yes! Please signal boost this to your flist, followers, and any other places you frequent. Come one, come all!
The more people who come and play, the better!

Can I spread the word?
Yes, please. I'd love to create a nifty banner with an embed code but I fail at it. So if you create one, I'll post it and everyone can use it.

How long will it go?
Tentatively, we'll close it on January 31, 2019.

Are there any rules about cross-posting?
Nope, you can post wherever you want, whenever you want. A lot of folks collected their responses together and posted them on AO3 under the 3 sentence fiction tag. 3SFs are a terrific prompt for remixes and could be helpful for Yuletide bears, too.

What about spoilers, content warnings, triggers, pairings, ratings, tags, and squick?
I thought about this. It wasn't an issue the last 2 times I ran this but times change. In my experience, this typically gets too big, moves too fast, and the stories are too short for content warnings and ratings. You should assume spoilers are fair game and that the initial poster and responder have opted to use no content warnings or tags. I've found personally that I can skim by stuff that, from the prompt, I can tell isn't my favorite flavor of delicious cake. Use your best judgment and be prepared to skip over things that aren't your thing.

And here, have some icons!

I'll start things off...

Edit to add on 12/18/2018 Please check out this update here. And this friending meme if you're so inclined here.

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♥

!!!!!

God has set His canon ‘gainst self-slaughter, but when Hamlet looks around he sees so many things that are also forbidden, so why should he be the only one to practice restraint? This world is too much for any man to bear, and if leaving it too soon will bar him from the Lord’s Kingdom, he’s not sure he cares for a Lord who would abandon the Earthly one.

The knife dances, the pitiless waves flash below, and after a skipped heartbeat he steps back from both those endings and begins to chant faint hymns.

Thank you so much!!

If you're curious, Welcome to PHU is a serial that posts over on Tumblr. It doesn't have that kind of a creepy tone over all, though. This piece was inspired some dreamscape scenes that occur near the end of one of the books currently posting.

i'm so?? flattered?? because that's exactly what i was trying to do with this one! while browsing the wiki pages for their respective kith, i was struck by how both are energized by gossip in a way, but boggans are more social about it, and sluagh are shadowy, so even though their aesthetics are very different they'd work well together. and then hamlet as a magician's trick, what a wonderful phrase for him, thank you!

ooh, what if wittenberg is our world, and elsinore is the Fae Court? that alone would be a reason for laertes to be so desperate to leave for france, if it doesn't suit him. (laertes is probably also a troll; he and horatio are foils nearly as much as he and hamlet)

She has the presence of royalty in purple, a compassionate and commanding queen—even commonsensical, absurd as that may sound to anyone who isn't intimately familiar (as he is) with her crazy awesome. Cerulean and midnight (she is his sun and stars) and sapphire (priceless as such jewels are, he prefers looking into her eyes) can only enhance her beauty. They were green kids together (green is his color, where black is theirs) but they have outgrown that, grown together as oak and linden, and he cannot help but follow her as a sunflower the sun; he would shower her with gold if she had the slightest wish for it. She has transformed and illuminated him (it's kind of hilarious, actually, that of the pair of them he is the one who doesn't need an explanation of the symbolism of orange in Confucianism and Buddhism), and (she claims) he her, which latter he still only half believes.

He loves her best as he saw her first: courageous and passionate in red.

Oo very interesting look at Spike

Ooo nice, thanks

He wasn't aiming for her: he was trying to bring down some of the mansion to trap his father (his father, what the fuck), he wasn't aiming for her, and the moth-fucking son of a bitch (he will apologize later to his grandmother's headstone) blocked his blow with her.

The last thing she must have seen is his eyes, and even as her flesh dissolved under his fingers and her heartbeat fell silent she was trying to tell him something: I love you or I'm sorry or I forgive you, none of which make any fucking sense but he knows how to read his partner and she has only ever lied to him in defense of the secrets they share (and it's hardly as though he has done differently to her) and he knows better than to think she'd want him lying to himself.

He snatches her earrings as they fall and he flees.

Marinette isn't home (which, fuck, he'd trust her with Ladybug's Miraculous before anyone but Ladybug herself) but her bedroom is as secure a fallback position as anywhere in the city. Marinette's diary lies open on her desk (and he's seen the people-eating box she keeps it in, okay, she must have left in one hell of a hurry if she didn't lock it back up first) and it's not that he tries to read it, it's not, it's actually entirely the opposite, but he is constitutionally incapable of seeing words and not reading them, and—

Okay, he needs a minute, he needs to sit down here and map out what now, maybe see if he can corral some backup so this doesn't end up a suicide run—and oh thank fuck she has written down Master Fu's address, she has put names to the unmasked faces of Rena Rouge and Carapace, and he's going to have to 'fess up and face the music stat because she's been rejecting him for him and he ignoring her in favor of her all along—but he's pretty sure it's going to involve Cataclysming the fuck out of his father and then stabbing his ears with hot needles so he can see how well he can dance Ladybug's part.

part two

Edited (...um so when I said 'three sentences'...) 2018-12-24 05:24 (UTC)

“Boy are you lucky, buster,” Duck Dodgers peered over the smoking crater that used to be their spaceship, “lucky that my quick thinking kept you from being incinerated!”

The eager young space cadet nodded so hard and fast that the built-on antenna on his space-cap wobbled as he saluted and stammered “Oh indubibibi— induddititib— without a doubt, sir, why if you hadn’t activated the super-ultra-disintegrator-ray right when the Martian deployed his ultra-super-disintegrator-gun, why he might have vaporized the ship!”

The stranded pair turned back to stare at the smoking crater that used to be their spaceship, and Duck Dodgers cleared his throat, “That just shows to go ya, eager young space cadet, that a hero always needs a backup plan — how are you at hot-wiring Martian hot-rods?”

Edited 2018-12-24 03:05 (UTC)

Of the two of them, Émilie always was and will always be the one who cared about—who could do—things like frying bacon for a family breakfast, tossing a ball back and forth in the courtyard, and draping tinsel just so over a silver fir. Adrien needs such things, Gabriel knows, but Adrien is more in need (Gabriel knows) of keeping his mind and body flexible and strong (which is on Adrien, and he is competent) and securing his financial future (which is on Gabriel, and he is more than competent), and of course what Adrien needs most is what Gabriel is working on hardest and what he least dares hint to his son. Adrien admires Chat Noir, imagines himself in love with Ladybug—he doubts Adrien would hesitate a heartbeat to tell them everything, and sever thereby all chance of ever again getting the bacon, the catch game, the lit Christmas tree, and never notice Gabriel—Émilie—Adrien himself gushing heart's blood in this lonely home.

this is terrific!

Ooh, SCP-914 is one of my favorites! This is definitely something some of the scientists would get up to. (And there are definitely worse uses for unknowable, dangerous machines! XD)

Oh, how lovely! This is such a fitting metaphor for Anthy's escape, and it's wonderful to think of Anthy and Utena together, creating a nurturing environment for plants (and themselves) to grow.

Ooh, what an intriguing concept.

“Little Sister Queen has been too quiet,” the fireplace announced.

Susan blinked as the flames resolved themselves into a pair of mandibles, too many eyes, and even more legs. “I’m in mourning, Anansi,” she said, striving for some echo of royal firmness in her voice instead of the raw desperation and numbness that had gripped her by turns of late. “I’m not in any mood for adventures.”

Embers popped and sizzled. “But that is the best time for them, Little Sister Queen,” said the Trickster, and his legs wove a dizzying, spinning pattern, and either the room shrank or the fireplace grew, for she was whirling, falling, soaring, coughing on soot and finally tumbling out onto an unfamiliar hearthstone.

“Harry, dear, I told you to speak clearly— oh!” A kind-faced, red-haired woman helped Susan to her feet. “Take a wrong turn on your way to Diagon Alley, my dear? Not to worry, we’ll have you straightened out soon enough.”

Susan looked back at the fireplace just in time to see Anansi wag a pair of legs in farewell.

“Spiders,” moaned a boy from the doorway. A rat peeked out of his pocket, took one look at Susan, squeaked and vanished. “I hate spiders.”

“I’m beginning to agree with you,” said Susan.

Once, before everything, Riku had thought of himself as the strong one, the oldest and therefor the wisest of his group of friends; the one to lead and plan and bring all of them to great things. It seems so simple and naive now, arrogant, shortsighted and harmful. When it came down to it, Riku's choices had nearly killed them all just because he thought he knew best, and that would always haunt him, that taint of darkness and fear that he'd make the wrong choice again--he hadn't meant to hurt his friends but he knew better now and he'd fight himself every day if he had to to keep from hurting them again.

This is beautiful, and the healing hands — perfection! (I have a new ship now, what have you done?)

part one

One moment she, Ladybug, can see only Chat Noir's horrified eyes and can only pray he knows she loves him more than life and she forgives everything there has ever been to forgive him for (and this moment was never among his sins; it counts against Hawkmoth alone) and she is so, so sorry she said nothing sooner—the next moment, she, Marinette, is staring at Adrien's father (the scenery is unchanged; they're still in Adrien's bedroom; M. Agreste is gripping her arm just as Hawkmoth was doing a moment ago) and a black-dotted red baton extends (as Chat's silver one does) to force a barrier between them.

"Nice hardware up in that lair of yours," remarks Chat Noir—only it isn't he; but it is, she knows his voice, she knows the way he tenses when he's hiding heartbreak behind bravado—why is he in her colors? "Wonder how big a boom it makes?"

"Yes, that would be my security system," M. Agreste says dryly, "and it operates with pinpoint precision. Surrender the Ladybug and Cat Miraculouses, Chat Noir, and I will permit you both to live."

Chat's eyes are on her. "Do you believe this asshole, Marinette?" he says, laughing bitterly. "He's sitting here thinking he's won the hand when I know damn well he's got two pair and thinks I've got fuck-all. Here's my cards, M. Agreste. Remember Markov? Y'know, Robostus?" He taps his earpiece. "Unless I say otherwise, this place will blow ten seconds before I lose the spots. Which I will in about four minutes. And by the way, it's nine pm." He grins; Marinette's used to thinking of him as an overenthusiastic housecat, but that is a jaguar on the prowl. "Do you know where your son is?"

Apparently Chat's baton doubles as a laser pointer; Marinette glances that way and claps her hands over her mouth to muffle her scream.

M. Agreste turns. Sees Adrien, kneeling there gagged and furious with his hands and feet bound. Blanches. "Release him!"

"So how about this," says Chat lazily. "You want your son to survive; I want my girl to survive. You'll let her go, she'll let him go, they'll both run like hell, and you and I will stay here to negotiate the surrender of the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculouses. Like civilized people do."

Marinette trusts Chat Noir with all things but one; she loves Adrien with all her heart; she knows them both better perhaps than they know themselves. Something is wrong with this picture.

M. Agreste stares at Adrien, heartbroken.

"Tick tock," says Chat.

M. Agreste shoves her away and steps back. Marinette glares at Chat, runs to Adrien, yanks the quick release knot securing his feet, grabs his hand, bolts.

Carapace is waiting ten paces from Adrien's bedroom door. He catches Adrien (who positively melts into his arms), and puts a finger to his lips, and jerks a thumb at the wall behind him. That's Alya's handwriting, inked in orange light:

Trust us ♥

—CN

Carapace holds out to her the Cat Miraculous, and Adrien—oh! oh, she's going to kill Rena, and kill Chat worse—winks.

Marinette slams the ring onto her finger, smirks at Plagg, and whispers "Claws out."

She—Ladybug, she supposes, wearing Chat Noir's colors or no; she didn't get a look at herself before Rena tweaked the illusion to hide her from sight—sneaks back into Adrien's bedroom. Chat and Hawkmoth are fencing with baton and cane; Ladybug has her trusty yo-yo, she just needs a clear shot to use it—

"Peahen down!" shouts Queen Bee. "Peahen down!"

"Book it!" bellows Chat Noir, and Hawkmoth moves one heartbeat too slow. Entangled in Ladybug's yo-yo cord, he falls.

Chat uses his baton to roll the man face-up. He plucks the Butterfly Miraculous from Hawkmoth's collar and bounds for the open window.

Ladybug stares down at Gabriel Agreste. "Why?" she asks. "Why would you hurt Adrien like this?"

Gabriel glares at the ceiling, since he can't see her. "This is for Adrien!"

"And if you'll buy that," says Chat Noir from halfway out the window, utterly disgusted. "Come on, princess."

"Explain," snaps Ladybug.

"Princess!" calls Chat.

"Explain, Gabriel."

"Marinette!"

Behind the sound of her name she hears the Ladybug Miraculous signal the one-minute warning.

...On second thought she doesn't want to know that badly.

She yanks back her yo-yo and leaps, grabbing Chat around the waist and fleeing. Somehow he clambers onto her back, Butterfly Miraculous clenched in his red-gloved fist. "Your balcony," he tells her, holding on for dear life.

"We are gonna have a talk when we get there," Ladybug tells him.

The street lights up ahead of them, their shadow stretching into the distance, and behind them there is an echoing boom.

(She wonders if Gabriel somehow escaped.)

(She isn't sure she cares.)

"That we are," says Chat.

His spots melt off in red sparks to leave bare muscled arms behind. She keeps running.

Her balcony is deserted, but her skylight is open. Alya and Nino are trembling side by side on her chaise longue when they drop onto her bed, Chloé pacing the room, and something glints blue on Marinette's desk beside her open diary. The shape suggests it's the Peacock Miraculous.

Chat Noir vaults off her bed and lands deftly on the floor, and Adrien throws his arms into the air, Butterfly Miraculous still firmly in hand. "And they stick the landing!"

The room explodes with cheers.

"Claws in," murmurs Ladybug, and Marinette descends the steps to join them.

Adrien slaps the brooch onto the desk beside its partner in crime and turns to her, grinning. She glares. His face falls; she can picture how Chat's cat ears droop. The other three fall quiet.

"I read your diary," Adrien says, fast like bullets, "and I owe you so many apologies—so many apologies—but in my defense, you're alive and we won."

"I am so furious with you," Marinette tells him.

Adrien gulps. "I'm sorry," he says, soft, sad, determined. "But I'd do it again."

Marinette sits down at her desk. She slams her diary shut and locks it up where it belongs. Takes off the Cat Miraculous and gives serious consideration to shoving it down Adrien's throat.

She pointedly doesn't react when Adrien comes up beside her and sets the Ladybug Miraculous down. "You'll want to clean these," he says. "I didn't exactly bother to do a clean and sterile ear piercing."

She says nothing. Doesn't move.

Adrien turns away from her. "I don't know about the rest of you," he says, "but I'm going to go get drunk."

Marinette spins her chair to face him. "Did you mean it?" she asks him. "Any of the times you told me as Ladybug you wanted me—did you mean it?"

His eyes flicker to her diary lockbox. "Yeah," he says quietly. "Every word."

"See, if you go get drunk," Marinette explains patiently, "then ethical problems arise with my jumping your bones." He gawks. She smirks. "Wouldn't you rather come get laid?"

Chloé dives through the trap door. Nino and Alya follow; she'd say they move more sedately except they're both laughing their asses off.

Adrien puts on one of Chat Noir's 'I'm sexy and I know it' grins. (Marinette has to admit, those have been working on her for a couple years. She just didn't want them to, so she refused to let on.) "So would you say you call my 'bump fists' and raise me 'bump uglies'?"

Marinette spins the chair the other way. "Nope, we're done."

He comes close enough behind her for his breath to tickle her ear. "Pound it!"

"Chaton!" She meant it wholly disapproving. It came out far nearer delighted.

"You love me," Adrien says cockily. (...Oh, fuck, he's rubbing off on her. —Oh, fuck.)

"Gods help me, yes." Marinette stands, running her fingertips up his arm, the length of his collarbone, down to his hip, watching emerald fire rise in his eyes. Passion, for her. "You're overdressed. Get these off."

Adrien lifts her up to sit on the desk; slides one hand up the back of her blouse to pop her bra clasp. "Whatever it takes, my lady." He's looking at her like she's everything and they haven't even kissed yet. "My love."

Edited 2018-12-24 05:23 (UTC)

pffffff

oh this is gonna be awesome

(not, to be clear, that it isn't already :D)

♥!

Hawkmoth is dead. This is what they wanted, what they were hoping for, what they were trying to achieve.

Ladybug helps Adrien lift his father's corpse and stays pressed to her partner's side while he cries.

I love this a lot, especially how "temporary identification, until they reenter you into the system" leads to "pretends it's just stiff cloth that's cutting into his wrist.

"I love deadlines!" Ladybug shouts to Chat Noir across the current field of combat; they are making approximately zero effort at stealth with this akuma and she is furious and her physics grade is about to go to hell. "I love the whooshing sound they make as they fly by!"

"Wish I could write my physics paper on us and this," Chat Noir calls back, "but Mme. Mendeleiev would ask me to cite my sources and—" (she sees his eyes go wide, in mirror of what he must see on her face) "—that might pose a problem!"

Thank you for the prompt! (Immediately after posting, I was tempted to edit it to "don't throw it at me...again". :p)

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Page 164 of 202

Three Sentence Ficathon

no subject

Re: Greek mythology, she comes in colors everywhere

Their Currents Turn Awry [Hamlet]

Re: Welcome to PHU, Del

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[Miraculous Ladybug] to paint a poem

Re: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Spike

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[Miraculous Ladybug] in the shadow of your heart (part one)

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[Miraculous Ladybug] she'll be home for Christmas (if only in our dreams)

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Re: SCP Foundation

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Re: an attempt at something lovecraftian

Harry Potter/Narnia crossover

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Re: The Lion's Queen

[Miraculous Ladybug] in the shadow of your heart (PART TWO RAN LONG)

Re: Harry Potter/Narnia crossover

Re: Wounds (Maleficent)

[Miraculous Ladybug] the true story here was too simple to see

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[Miraculous Ladybug] fruit flies like bananas

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