rthstewart | Three Sentence Ficathon 2022

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Three Sentence Ficathon 2022

This post is NOW CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS! PLEASE POST YOUR NEW PROMPTS HERE, IN POST 2! Do continue to fill prompts here but please put all new prompts in Post 2.

Welcome to the Three Sentence Ficathon!

Here's a Friending meme!

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

What do I do first?
You can start 3SF by posting 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."

Open ended and anthropomorphic fills are popular too, such as:

Any, Any, "I don't like sand."

or

Earth geography, sand, "I don't like humans very much, either."

What happens after that?
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

I'm really overwhelmed by all the prompts and how much there is and how fast it goes. I can't read 1,000 prompts and fills. It's too much.
I hear this a lot and it keeps a lot of people from participating. The 3SF is big and it moves fast, especially at first. I get overwhelmed, too, and I'm hosting the thing. With 2020 and 2021 sucking so badly you don't want something that's supposed to be fun cause you anxiety. I have a couple of suggestions for managing the 3SF volume.

First, really, you don't have to read every prompt and fill on every page. You can start at the last page of this and just go forward, or back a page or two. It's fine.
You can come and go as time and energy allow, you don't have to participate the whole time, and it drops off quite at bit after about 2 weeks and especially once we open a new post because this one is approaching 4,500 comments.
Even after the 3SF and new prompting end, people fill prompts all year long.
You can fill an already filled prompt and you can can leave a prompt that's already been prompted before. People do it all the time.

Always make sure you're looking at top-level comments only, not threaded. That helps a lot. Your screen should look like this.

But shouldn't I read everything to see if someone already prompted the same prompt I want to leave if someone already filled it?
No. Prompt as many times as you want, as much as you want. It doesn't matter if someone prompted the exact same prompt. Go ahead and prompt again!

I left a prompt and no one filled it. Can I prompt it again?
Absolutely!

Can I spread the word?
Yes, please. I generally fail at creating banners and embed codes but if you create one and make it really idiot-proof, I might be able to post and share it. Feel free to cross-post this entry. If you create your own banners or icons, let me know and I'll share!
Please share the 3SF with your followers, friends, and any channels and comms you are active on. I'll post on fandom calendar, Tumblr, and Twitter, but I don't have many connections in other spaces such as Discord.

Here's my attempt at a text box that might go horribly awry.

How long will it go?
The 3SF closes to new prompts on February 13, 2022. The entry stays open permanently and people post fills all year long. (There were a bunch of new posts to the 2021 3SF this week!)

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 and archive warnings, triggers, pairings, ratings, tags, and squick?

I thought a lot about this. It boils down to reader beware. In my experience, this typically gets too big, moves too fast, and the stories are too short for content warnings and ratings to even apply. It is too big for me to moderate in this way. You should assume spoilers are fair game and that the initial poster and the responder have opted to use no content warnings or tags. This means AO3 content warnings for dubcon, violence, canon character death, underage, etc. COULD be present (and much more). I've found personally that I can skim and scroll by stuff that, from the prompt, I can tell isn't my favorite flavor of delicious cake. Use your best judgment, protect yourself, and be prepared to skip over things that aren't your thing. In this format, the obligation is on you, the reader, to protect yourself from triggering content.
Some posters do include warnings and spoiler tags or include spoiler space, but they don't have to do so.

Why is 3SF split among several posts? That seems confusing.
It is confusing and we always lose momentum once we have to move to a second post. The reason is because at 5,000 comments to a single post, DW installs a human test CAPTCHA, which is a pain for users. So, once this entry gets to the upper 4,000 comments, I open a new post. If you've been waiting until things slow down to participate, when we open a second post is often a good place to join.

If I have questions, what do I do?
I'm rthstewart everywhere, here, Twitter, Tumblr, gmail and AO3.

A special thank you to

conuly .
Last year, Conuly started logging all unfilled prompts.
This year's (2021) unfilled prompts are here.
Last year's (2020) unfilled prompts are here.

Conuly asks that you not reply, as they want to be able to edit and add more prompts to the list.

Here, have some icons and banners and let me know if you've created your own!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Middlegame, Rodger/&Dodger, When you gonna make up your mind?/ When you gonna love you as much as I do?

squid game, any, if i had a second chance

"Will you be my partner?" 067 asks again.

Ji-yeong wants to say yes, Sae-byeok, here and everywhere else. But she isn't even supposed to know Sae-byeok's name yet, so instead she coldly says "Who'd want a North Korean on their team?" and makes sure to turn her back before approaching Han Mi-nyeo.

Very nice. A wonderfully succinct fix-it.

Oh my god if only... if only! The what if here hurts ajidoaas because what if they both made it? T-T

Thank you for filling this prompt :D <3

leverage redemption, harry wilson, that kimono

leverage redemption, sophie devereaux, power

leverage redemption, sophie devereaux, family

the witcher, jaskier/yennefer, unexpected

Yennefer leans forward, sloping her mouth to his, sliding her hand down his back and clutching at his flat ass. She smiles against his mouth as he parts his lips and bites; it’s his attempt to try and gain control, even if Jaskier’s hands fumble with the reins as he gently and all too delicately touches her hips like she’s made of the same wood as his lute.

But nothing will ever be as sharp as her teeth as she digs them into the soft pillow of his lip, drawing both a spot of blood and a beautiful yelp from him.

OMg

Haha, I'm glad you liked it! ♥

😳😳😳😳😳 whew!!! yesss !!

lmfao thank you!! ♥

what an image!! **

I'm glad it worked for you! ♥

the witcher, jaskier/yennefer, pet names

"Oh, are you speaking to my wife?" Jaskier smiles big and wide as he clutches a begrudged Yennefer close to his side, his hand firmly tucked against her hip. "My beautiful doting, man-eating, skin devouring, hungry she-demon of a wife?"

Yennefer smiles saccharinely and wraps her arm around his waist, pinching his ass sharply. "Did I forget to mention my very pathetic and tone-deaf husband?"

hahahah perfect!

Thank you! ♥ Your Jaskier/Yennefer prompts have been so much fun to write for if that wasn't obvious!

what can I tell you, the new season really gave me ideas ;)

hilarious yet sweet XD love it

Thank you! ♥

the witcher, geralt/jaskier/yennefer, Geralt needs them to be selfish

lord of the rings, eowyn, teaching/training new shieldmaidens

“Parry”—Éowyn hit the girl’s blade so that it glanced aside—“block”—a firmer strike that made the girl stumble back, her blade pinned—“lunge”—Éowyn’s blade slipped through the girl’s guard and tapped her shoulder in one smooth motion.

Panting, her shoulders sagging, the girl, Wilfled, wiped her brow with her arm and asked, “Why must we train, when the men can fight and defend us?”

Éowyn looked out at the women training around them, steel meeting steel in a ringing dance of strikes and parries, and she smiled grimly as she said, “Because we are shieldmaidens, daughters of warriors, and we will not cower and hide in our homes when we, too, can defend our people; we will choose our dooms, and we will do deeds of glory, even if there be none left to tell of them.”

Yesss Éowyn! <3 What a badass!

This is great! An army of shieldmaidans is the dream

Love it!

oh, eowyn. she's so great, thank you for this.

yes yes yes yes!! SHIELDMAIDENS. i love them.

Away from the field, she was perhaps more gentle than was wise, some trace of her time in Ithilien, yet when she bore the sword and the shield, every word she spoke became heavy and cold as iron, her eyes distant, as though seeing things that had long since happened.

She spoke of training, technique and mastery, of the necessity of the weapons they carried, but never their glories.

They found her strange, this woman who had grown and lived as one of them, yet had so long lived apart, but in her cold, hard lessons, there was a dedication, a pressure to prepare them for whatever they might face, that drew them back, day after day, to learn from her whatever she could teach.

This is beautiful.

Ooohh this is amazing! I love how you describe Eowyn, the the contrast between who she is with and without the sword.

"She spoke of training, technique and mastery, of the necessity of the weapons they carried, but never their glories." - this is perfect

Beautiful and poignant! <3

They respect him, Éomer thinks, the shieldmaidens of his hall, as they should serve their king - but they love his sister. He watches from the outskirts as Éowyn passes among them with a smile, a light touch correcting a stance, firmer hands showing a better grip, and every one of the women listens avidly to the words of their visiting princess.

Éowyn meets his gaze warmly, then her smile turns almost impish and she beckons to him, hefting her sword and moving into the clear space left for sparring - Éomer laughs and draws his own sword to answer his sister's summons as the shieldmaidens murmur and watch closely.

Ahh yes, Eomer being a good brother, Eowyn being badass, friendly yet competitive sparring, what more can you want?

^.^

♡

narnia, original character, a hundred years turned to stone

They had no chance--Aurora's ladies-in-waiting only had time to lead her to the tower to hide when the first howls of the wolves pierced the castle's defenses. Did her father know she was going to die, or would the raven never make it to the army in time to send word?

Petrification is a uniquely horrifying way to be cursed--if the Witch's magic was any slower, it would have killed the princess outright, but not dying didn't spare her the terror of feeling your limbs betray you, of feeling your lungs refuses to fill, or feeling cold creeping in worse than if you've fallen into a frozen river.

And then, it's over. The hot breath of the Lion wakes her and she is kindly tended to by a pair of girls, who wraps her arms around her and rubs warmth into her fingers. The younger tells Aurora of the Witch's conquest, of the fall of her land, and now the great battle to reclaim it. She does not say what happened to Aurora's father, but does she need to?

She lays her head upon the older girl's knees and tries not to weep for all that's lost as the girl soothes her.

(I definitely do not mind!)

love this, the descriptions of what the petrification feels like are terrific, and I love the info added to this au, with Aurora's ladies in waiting, and her message to her father

😿

The last thing she remembers is the White Witch glaring at her and pointing her wand.

The next thing she knows is the feel of warmth spreading over her, creeping up from her toes with a tingle — but not pain, no pain at all, just a feeling of relief, and a desire to yawn — as if she's woken from the longest sleep of her life, and from what the two girls tell her, that seems to be exactly what happened.

When she finally reaches Cair Paravel, it's just as she remembers it, every stone, every step, every window where the sun shines in — but it's completely changed, completely empty of life, her family gone forever. The Lion explains that she's no longer a princess, but he didn't have to say anything, she already knew.

Very lovely, and the ending is so poignantly sad!

Oh I love it, and it's kind of dark.
Is the idea here that she is no longer a princess because her family is gone and therefore her title and claim as well, or I suppose you could also read it as that she is a Queen now, but that would bring complications with the Pevensies (yet the first option is also kind of weird, like four children get to rule the kingdom she was born to rule?). I think about this sometimes, like what if there had been a legitimate heir, that could be complicated. (I'm completely rambling now, lol, sorry, but it's a really interesting thought!)

narnia, any, there is magic back in England too

It was always there; Peter had just never known how to look for it before they'd gone to Narnia. English magic was rarely flashy, but he found it when he hopped on a certain set of stones in the street, in a certain pattern, that a certain wall became a door to a strange shop. He found it when their elderly neighbor accidentally left her shears to do the trimming of her back hedge before she realized he was watching and ran over, insisting he saw nothing.

He certainly hadn't expected to find it when the swan who'd been about to beat him around the head for stepping too close to her nest suddenly transformed into a woman, shedding a cloak of feathers. "Oh! So, you're a king then? Fancy that. Stay away from my eggs then, majesty, or you'll be short an arm."

Sometimes, he thought as he scrambled away from the grouchy swan-woman, he really wished English magic was more like Narnia magic. No swan in Narnia ever threatened to maim him, after all.

I love this!

Hahah this is great! Love the swan woman, could read an entire story about her I think.

And I'm so glad you did!

Hah! Nicely done.

I love this idea!

I love this!

"I just wish," Susan had said miserably one rainy day, hands wrapped around her steaming mug of tea and her nose red from the cold, or the misery, or both, "that there was magic here, too."

"What ever makes you think there isn't?" Aunt Polly had said. "When you are as old as I am, my girl, and if you are half as lucky and keep your eyes open, you'll have more magic than you know what to do with. Shall I top you off?"

Susan is much older now than she was and yet much younger than Polly was, and she has not thought about that long-ago conversation in many years. But, looking at the doorway to the bookstore, which had emphatically not been there yesterday, and which no one else seemed to notice, has made her wonder if Aunt Polly was right all along...

I love this!

Ooooh this is great, Susan deserves a little magic :)

English magic, the Pevensie kings and queens of Narnia will learn over the years following their return, is far more subtle than Narnian magic. It feels the same sometimes--a hint of something deeper than deep, the whisper of a lion's roar carried on the wind, the feeling of being fully surrounded--it is just far harder to see if you are not looking for it. But they do find it: Edmund finds it at a tiny used bookstore, Susan in the back room of a seamstress' shop, Peter in the coffee shop where he goes to study, and Lucy in the woods she escapes to when her mother isn't watching.

Oh, this is lovely! I love all the places you chose for them to find magic, and your description of what it feels like!

"Hello, Mrs. Pevensie," is what the strange man in long, sparkly robes and a pointy hat says when Helen opens the door. "I don't suppose your daughter is in? She's been accepted to a very prestigious school up in Scotland."
A little in shock at the stranger's odd form of dress, she invites him in. Helen hears the girls' door past the landing creak open, but no footsteps; her children have learned subtlety, it seems, since their stay with Professor Kirke. She turns back to her guest. "Now, would you care to explain what this school business is all about?"
"I'm a professor at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry." With that pronouncement, he turns her dining room table into a pig.
Both of them hear the gasps of horror from up the stairs.

the perfect crossover really ;)

Peter finds it in the steady pulse of his heart in his ears and the pull of muscle, always just enough even through the impossible. He smiles grimly and buckles down to strategy, and his plans always, always thread - twist - triumph, even the narrowest possibility turning to success under his hands.

Those around Peter forever look to him as though the crown he once wore still gleams upon his brow - and perhaps, in a way, it always will.

~

Susan finds it the same way she always had - with gentle words and smiles that turn sharp, with careful application of pressure that is so graceful as to go unnoticed. It is more difficult here than it once was, from the position of a half-grown girl with no name, but Susan has always had skill in applying leverage and using what she has.

When Susan smiles, it is more than her beauty that transfixes those lucky - or unlucky - enough to draw her eyes, and something - just - more - than shines around her.

~

Edmund finds it in the spill of words and the power in determination, draws attention before he learns how to deflect it as he had once before - the shadow blade of his siblings under his dark crown. His cleverness makes his way, and whatever he searches for, whatever he would know, he turns his focus to it and the world twists - turns - offers and he finds it beneath his hands.

Edmund smiles unassumingly as those he displaces notice him only as he makes his mark, too late to do more than offer welcome.

~

Lucy takes the longest to find it, so quiet and so hidden compared to what she knows, but when she does. . . Lucy loses herself in the singing wind beneath the trees as she does in the dizzying beat of panicked hearts pulsing blood in a trauma ward, and is as steady in both, the love of the trees shielding her in all weathers as her hands keep her patients just - a - breath - longer than anyone else can manage - just long enough.

Lucy smiles and draws a blanket over a sleeping man everyone else had given up on, humming a dryad's lullaby as she moves to the window.

This is beautiful! I also love to see what people come up with when they assign each Pevensie a specific power, and I love that you gave them all subtle powers that really fit them, and that all seem to fit together. I also thought the writing of this was amazing!

"and his plans always, always thread - twist - triumph, even the narrowest possibility turning to success under his hands." - the twist of words here, love it!

(also Susan's power is making me think about a Leverage crossover)

Thank you so much! I had . . . no idea past wanting to do one for each of them when I started; I started with Peter's, then jumped from him to Lucy and had to go back for their siblings. I'm glad they seem like they all fit!

(. . .now I'm thinking of Sophie as Susan's daughter or granddaughter and having learned from her. >.>)

(oohh that is an idea)

Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings, Katy, jack of all trades

Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings, Xu Xialing, shadows

See also this.

Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings, Xu Xialing, out of the shadows, into the light

Encanto, Alma Madrigal, the first doors

There was a row of doors, glowing strongly with a regal, golden colour. The first one she touched caused a ripple of colour to expand across the door forming into the shape of herself, the image almost alive as it stared back at her. Her heart in her throat she turned her head in the sudden darkness to see the rest of the hallway empty and opened her door.

oohh nice. gold does suit her.

Encancto, Dolores Madrigal, Dolores hears everything

Her room is a safe haven when she needs one, on the days when the things she can hear press in and won't leave her be. Dolores is nosy, she won't deny it, but it's hard not to want to know what's going on when you can hear a whispered conversation on the other side of the village!

On the other hand, there are times - often after dark - when she is more than happy to close her door and not hear what else is going on around her. There are some things a young lady does not need to know about her family.

Haha omg, that last sentence, lol. Also love the layers in this: its funny and angsty at once. I hadn't even thought about how her room could be a safe haven for her, but of course that's really clever!

I'd love to see the other family members' rooms! And, well, I couldn't stop thinking about the things poor Dolores probably didn't want to hear, arguments and confessions and all sorts when she's rather too young - not to mention learning how to deal with hearing so much all the time all of a sudden! I really hope her room could block things out and give her a break if that's what she needs - the others' rooms seem tailored for their gifts, after all.

Thank you!

Delores favourite time of day was just before breakfast. This was the time when Bruno’s telanovella aired. Delores was thoroughly engrossed in the current scandal when the rest of the town began to wake up, interrupting the quiet that made it easy for her to focus on the show. She tried to ignore Louisa’s gasp as she woke from a nightmare, Isabella’s frantic mumbling and her own mother’s sobs that she already knew stemmed from Bruno’s absence. She was trying to hear who Valentina’s secret baby was!

Bruno’s voice cut out and Delores had a moment of panic, what happened? Who was the baby? And then, slightly more concerning panic, what happened to Bruno? What made him stop? Where was he? His voice came from between the wall next to her, soothing and calming, Delores could almost picture his soft smile in his voice. "And that’s all until next time Mi Vida, tune in next time to find out about Valentina’s secret baby and what’s this? Carlos and Camila are twins?"

Delores gasped, "No!" she exclaimed before slapping a hand over her mouth. And then she remembered, no one would hear her. Except Bruno whose laughter she could hear easily in the wall.

"Have a good day Delores. I’ll see you at breakfast." And she smiled and leaned her cheek against the wall, near the only person in the house that had time for her when they weren’t looking for gossip.

"You too Tio Bruno." She would never tell anyone she knew about the Prophecy. Not even Bruno. This was one secret she would keep without being asked.

awww this is so cute!!

Thank you! I love the thought that Bruno wasn't completely separated from his family - and the idea that his telenovella's aren't lost to the walls.

any, any, "drop your weapons" ... "all your weapons"

"I'm unarmed," said Mara, her voice deceptively mild.
Like that makes a difference, Luke scoffed, his mental voice wry.
What do you want me to do, Farmboy – throw myself at the ground?

LOL, that's one way to do it

Hah, perfect!

I love this!

Yesssssss. Love me some Mara Jade!

Love this!!

"I don't see the point in this," Tobirama grumps as he digs out yet another brace of kunai, "it's not like I'm going to cut off my hands, and my companion is definitely not going to gouge out his eyes."

The Kumo diplomats twitch, gazes shifting back and forth between the members of the Konoha delegation.

Izuna ties a sheer blindfold over his eyes that lets him see out but protects others from being caught in his Sharingan, which he seems to have brought for this exact purpose - they're both skilled enough that Izuna's lack of genjutsu is negligible; he laughs with a mocking twist to his mouth and says, "Whatever makes them feel safe, Tobi."

"he laughs with a mocking twist to his mouth and says, "Whatever makes them feel safe, Tobi."" - this is cool!

thanks!

I love that it is so clearly just a gesture they're offering, because this is ridiculous and absolutely not going to slow them down much. (I also love Tobi's grumpy frustration at the ridiculous gesture. XD)

yes! exactly! Tobirama's most dangerous weapon (in the traditional sense of the word weapon) is absolutely his ninjutsu, and it's not like he can just put that down.

also I can 100% see both of them just. clobbering their enemies over the head with their own shoes, if needs must. X'D

I can see Izuna clobbering someone over the head with their own shoes to say he'd done it. XD (Tobirama in the background just like *sighs and pinches bridge of nose*)

honestly I was thinking, like, Izuna yanks his shoe off to clobber someone... but both images are very funny XD

*coughs* just for you ;)

~

Tobirama wished he could say he was surprised when Kumo attacked, even after he pointed out that divesting them of their weapons hardly made them helpless.

Izuna clearly expected it, too: his chakra flared in his eyes as he activated his Sharingan, and as Tobirama moved to parry an attack to Koharu - (targetting the younger, less experienced shinobi - clever, if not particularly smart) - he dove forward into a roll, springing up towards a Kumo nin with his sandal in hand, poised for attack.

Tobirama sighed deeply, still doing damage control with his students, as Izuna laid the Kumo nin out with one blow.

Honestly. It would be much better to use the enemy's footwear; at least then one wouldn't have to fight barefoot.

*giggles* Oh Izuna. XD

Come on, Tobi, do you still expect Izu to be practical? *tsks*

he survived the war, didn't he? surely he has some practicality? surely??

(no, Tobirama, he doesn't.)

Oh peace summits with anyone with a blood limit must be a hassle. I guess that's why the lords all went with body guards instead. Great fill!

"I don't think we have time for that," Sakura said, thinking of her sensei drilling her on concealing more and more equipment about her person; the razor wire wound into her sandals and hitai-ate, the blades snug along her arms, legs, hips, and back, the tiny fuinjutsu patterns hiding larger weaponry stitched along the seams of her clothes, "but honestly I don't need weapons to be more dangerous than any of your guards, you're just going to have to trust my good will."

"I don't use weapons." Lee said brightly.

The diplomat facing them looked like she wanted to cry as she clutched her papers closer.

hahahaha love this!

Thanks!

<3 <3 <3

I love Lee so much here. "I don't use weapons" indeed XD

^.^

Weapons are Tenten's thing. XD As is 'carrying things', really.

(Although Gai uses nunchaku, terrifyingly well, surely he's taught Lee. . .)

just because they're Tenten's ~thing~ doesn't mean Lee can't have a bit of training/use of them anyway...

nunchaku *starry eyed* come on, Lee, nunchaku would be fun! wouldn't it? wouldn't it?

“All of them,” with her gun still pointed right at his chest, she yanked the fifteenth arrow out of his hand, then another, then another, but Clint just stared at her without budging himself.

“How do I know it’s actually you?”

Bobbi only smirked, “That knife in your back buckle too.”

oohh, this is perfect!

The Maximals had the Predacons surrounded; it was time to end this. "Drop your weapons, all of you," Optimus commanded, all steel and tightly leashed anger. "All of them."

The Predacons looked at each other. One by one they relinquished their weapons, all but Quickstrike, who didn't move. "Hey," Rattrap warned. "You heard the big ape."

Quickstrike looked at Rattrap, down at himself, then back at Rattrap, and in an uncharacteristically subdued voice replied, "Uh, I hope you're not meanin' for me to rip my own arm off."

lol XD

"What kind of amateurs do they think we are?" the guard said.

"We did have them remove all their weapons," the other guard said.

"The only way that Eliot Spencer is without his weapons is if he's naked and in a pine box," the first guard replied, giving his partner a dope slap for his gullibility.

XD very true

"Drop your weapons" the Yiga agent had said.

"All your weapons." said another, "From the Slate, no funny business."

They suspected Link could fight unarmed.

But they forgot that Link had teeth.

lol XD

Gwen turned sharply at the noise behind her, bringing her gun up and aiming at the smirking figure stepping out of the shadows. “Drop your weapons!” she snapped at Captain John Hart.

Ianto stepped out of the same shadowed corridor, wondering how it had taken Gwen so long to hear them coming. “Hands up and drop your weapons!” she snapped again.

Clearly she hadn’t noticed that the rest of the team were behind him, that his hands were cuffed – admittedly they were cuffed in front and not behind, but that was Jack’s soft heart and not Ianto’s. Given the choice, Ianto would have cuffed his ankles as well and gagged him just for good measure. No good ever came from a visit from John Hart.

“All your weapons now!” Gwen shouted.

“Gwen, give it a break,” Owen snapped back, “Just look will you – Tosh is already carrying all of his weapons.” Ianto wasn’t quite so sure about that, he estimated they’d probably relieved him of about 85% of his weapons, 95% if they were really doing well, but then maybe he was just being overly suspicious of how amenable John had been to handing them over.

John reached for his buckle and started to undo it. “What are you doing?” Gwen asked startled.

“The only weapon I’ve got left, darling! I can’t drop it but I can at least let you take a look,” his smirk got even more devilish.

That was the final straw, Ianto wasn’t going to take this nonsense any more. “Oh grow up!” he said firmly, yanking John by the arm so his hands couldn’t return to his buckle. “Nobody believes that, so just get moving. You know where to go.” He gave him a shove towards the stairs up to the conference room, smiling inwardly as John stumbled barely catching himself.

“Eye Candy, I didn’t know you were the dominant type, but I’m game if you are.”

Ianto rolled his eyes, and refusing to be drawn in to any more innuendo-laden conversation, gave John another shove towards the stairs.

love the dynamic of this scene!

Crossbow, hunting knife, quiver with seven arrows, spare hunting knife; they all hit the ground at Daryl's feet.

"All your weapons," the voice behind the shotgun says.

Daryl shrugs and leans down to his boot, slides to the right, pivots, and the spare-spare knife is up against the motherfucker's throat; he don't give a shit about himself, but people gotta learn not to get in his face when Beth is with him.

Oohh, nice!

any, any, the hero becomes the villain

It wouldn't have taken much for his life to go very differently; a small nudge in one direction, a slightly less positive decision, a choice to act on an impulse instead of swallowing it down.

He sometimes wonders, when he sees another rich asshole walk away without a care in the world, why he shouldn't just do it himself, just use his skills in a different way, and take the wealth and power they all seem to have.

And then he glances at his partners, the two best things to ever happen to him, his compass for what is right and wrong, and he knows that they'd never forgive him if that happened... and that's enough to still his mind for another short while.

Perfection ♥

Ooohh I love this! The idea of Eliot being very close to walking a dark path, only being stopped by his love for Hardison and Parker, really cool

Sam clutched the Ring in his hand and looked out at the green world around him: vines tore down the Dark Lord’s tower and crumpled the garrisons and camps of the orcs; trees burst forth full-grown out of rocky crags; and meadows of wildflowers rippled out over the wastelands of Mordor, spreading until they reached Ithilien to the west and all the land was one great garden.

He smiled at his triumph and at the destruction of the enemy’s works: Everything would be green and growing now, as it always should have been.

And across the wide lands of Middle-earth, the rampage of nature swept through the dominions of all Free Folk and drew their cities to the ground.

Oh, this is perfect.

Ohh, this is great!

Oh my god, this is chilling! I have never seen this idea before but I love it so much! How even the best of intentions and superficially good actions can be corrupted. Sam with the ring is something else

Thank you! It was interesting idea to play with for sure.

Ah, I love this! The "rampage of nature" is a wonderful blend of Sam's good intentions and the violence that springs from the Ring.

(There's actually a scene very much like this in the Rankin-Bass cartoon Return of the King! For a brief scene, Sam contemplates taking the One Ring for himself and transforming all of Middle Earth into an idyllic garden, in a rather terrifying manner that looks very much like what I visualize in your ficlet. I've seen some people complain about that scene taking liberties with the text and Sam's character, but I always thought it was a really interesting view of how the Ring could potentially corrupt anyone, even him, however pure their ideals.)

Thank you!

How interesting! I've never seen the Rankin-Bass version of LOTR; thanks for sharing that! When I was writing this, I remembered (perhaps wrongly) a scene in the books that states that Sam would want to create a garden if he had the Ring, but perhaps it was actually something I'd heard about the RB version that my brain then misattributed to the books (entirely possible; I do have a knack for scrambling things). Regardless, I agree with you; it's fascinating to consider how the Ring could prey upon anyone's good intentions and twist them into something altogether negative.

a scene in the books that states that Sam would want to create a garden if he had the Ring

You know, now that you mention it, it's very possible that this is mentioned in the books and I've just forgotten about it -- that would explain where the scene in the cartoon came from!

In any case, it's fascinating to think about. And I particularly love the way your ficlet transforms Sam's love of nature and gardens into this wild vision that's less like Hobbiton and more like the Romantic sublime.

Oh, nicely done, this is great.

This is amazing ♥

Taichi took a deep breath and held it for a moment, staring down at the horrified face of his sister. "O-Onii-chan?" she asked shakily, taking in his long cloak and cracked goggles perched like a mocking crown on his head, which he wore to remind himself of the child he used to be and the reason why he had turned his back on everything.

"Hikari, I never wanted it to come to this; I never wanted to leave you behind," he said sincerely, trying to hold in the pain - he had decided to take over the Digital World to protect everyone from the threat of another evil Digimon (like Diaboromon, who had almost started a world war, like Apocalymon, who had nearly destroyed both worlds, like Millenniummon, who had taken a Chosen Child down before being defeated), to protect her from the grief and anger that had slowly been festering inside him.

She didn't believe him, he could see it in her eyes, and so he sighed and tapped Greymon's shoulder with his boot, signalling his partner to prepare himself for a fight. Greymon, at least, would always stand by his side.

"If this is how it ends... then... then so be it!"

Zelda spread her arms and darkness, not light, burst forth from her; it was an unlocking of power of a sort, but Zelda didn't even look like she noticed. "So be it!" she cried again. "Let it all burn, I don't care! The Goddess abandoned me; she can burn! My father can burn! All of Hyrule-!"

Her voice choked off on a sob, and Link thought for a second that sanity had returned to her. But when her mouth opened again it was to scream, not speak, and that dark energy was taking on a baneful glow, it was swirling up the princess's body and she screamed her fury, her hatred, her malice-

Link could only watch helplessly as Malice consumed the bright, brave, beautiful girl he'd served all this time. As she turned to him at last, laughing from a throat gone raw, Link saw Calamity Ganon roar his triumph, swirling under the blood moon.

Oh I love your descriptions of dark!Zelda! It's very powerful

The power always comes with a cost, but the cost doesn't matter.

Every time she accepts it, she learns more about it, where it comes from, and how to control it.

The next time he offers it, he shouldn't be surprised when the stinger finally finds its way to him, instead.

Oohhh, cool

Depending on how you looked, it hadn’t taken much to push Clint from good guy to bad – just a snap of the fingers. That was before you took into account just what that snap took – family, friends, half of the world and what had been left behind… the Tracksuit Mafia, Hydra, The Ten Rings… more than enough evil to keep Clint working out his anger and sorrow for the years it took for someone to come up with a way to undo the snap.

He may not like who he’s become, he may not be proud of what he did, but he knows there was more justice in his actions than in those of Thanos who took half a universe without caring about the innocence of the people he stole. But even knowing that, it’s hard to live with the truth of who he is now and the guilt for all those people he killed.

Oh this fits the prompt very well!

any, any, the villain becomes the hero

"I intend to go to the World Beneath, find what is causing the Darkness to rise and possess people, and stop it." Dark turned on his heel, looked back at you - tense but ready, standing with his head up and his back straight and the wind catching at his hair. "I won't let another Dark Wizard rise, or another person's life be ruined like Lilith's was. Hero of Solemn - will you help me?"

You knew this was coming. You'd braced for it. It still wasn't enough, and the bone-deep exhaustion you'd done your best to escape almost pulls you under.

That isn't me, you say, and can only hope that Dark is as recovered as you think he is when his eyes widen in shock. The Hero of Solemn fell asleep, and I woke up. I'm not a fighter, Dark. But you are a hero. You don't need me at all.

You tip your head, nod to where Dalton and Tarric are loitering not-at-all-subtly just out of hearing range. You just need your party.

awwww, yes we believe in you Dark! go get em!

Dark: :points at self, me? :O

ooh this is cool!

Hee, thank you! I maintain it's just not fair to ask the protagonist of Littlewood to pick up any more Stuff.

Comes the dawn... and with it, our doom. Rhinox braced himself, barely holding himself upright but ready to shield his friends to the last, and faced the Vok warship opening up its throat for its final barrage.

Bright violet energy lanced overhead, hit the ship right in its vulnerable weapons hatch and sent it flying back until some internal chain reaction caused it to explode. "Aw, no," Rattrap groaned, quicker to look back to where that shot had come from than Rhinox was. "Did we just get saved by ol' Grape-face?"

Standing on an outcropping, Megatron laughed, backed by his Predacons and as fresh as if he'd just stepped off the assembly line. "Fall back, Maximals!" he commanded. "I'll handle the Vok!"

Rhinox put his face in his palm - he hated when Rattrap was right.

I don't know this fandom, but I thought that this was very dynamically written!

Aaaah this is excellent, and any fill is a good fill when Megatron gets called Grape-face. XDDDD

"Once," she says, and the first word's intonation is altered only slightly by the backstepping dodge his lashing cane forces her to employ, "I believed I would do anything to assist you. I have since discovered--" his starboard quarter turn ends in a decisive meeting with Carapace's shield this time, and Shadowmoth-who-was all but reels, unbalanced, as he reverses his steps to face her, only to meet her upraised and sweeping fan, "--that I am in possession of certain limits after all. This is not atonement, Hawkmoth; it's reconfiguration."

Edited 2022-01-17 02:37 (UTC)

what did he do, or tell her to do, that crossed her line, I wonder?

In my head, this is along the same arc as my Bittersweet and Strange remix, so Mutailor (eugenicist creepazoid with a very specific set of intentions for his genetic editing ability when akumatized) was either a singular line, or one of them, for her.

I love how you combined speech with action, it felt very fluid!

Thank you! I was going for a replication of the kind of thing you'd hear during a fight, which can be tricky. Glad it worked!

“You really thought I was going to let Mother kill you and your little friends?” Mattie asks, offended. “God, I’m not that cruel.”

Carmilla stares at the stake poking out of her-mother-as-Perry’s heart, at the real Perry slowly waking up. “That’s all it takes to kill her?”

“Oh, please.” Mattie waves a hand. “I took care of the whole immortal god problem ages ago.”

any, any, red thread of fate

Stiles likes to fiddle with the red thread that ties itself around his little finger: plucking at it, twisting it, pulling it.

"Will you stop?" Derek asks with a huff and grabs Stiles's hand in his, tangling their fingers together in a way that makes his question moot.

Stiles presses a kiss to Derek's cheek and just fiddles with Derek's red thread instead; it leads back to his own, after all.

Aww, very cute~ <3

Aww, loved this!

Fear choked his breath in his throat as he waited for her answer, and he wasn't entirely sure why; he had only asked her on a date, but somehow he felt he had asked her for his very life, and he would die on the spot if she said no.

"I suppose one drink wouldn't hurt," she said, flashing her smile brighter than any sun he'd ever seen, "as long as it's your treat."

As she slipped him a card with her phone number on it, he noticed the delicate red string tied around her wrist, and was simultaneously sure he'd never seen it before and that it was the most familiar thing in the universe.

ao3

Keith Windham did not believe in fate--but, as he looked at the buttons laying upon his dressing table, they shimmered in the red evening sun, and seemed to spell out a message in sparks of gold thread. That night, he dreamt of things both strange and familiar, and somehow meaningful: deep water and feathers, mountains and infinite skies, all their shades twisting and merging together naturally--yes, like the true colours of fate. When he woke up, the dream still held him, like a friendly hand, like a gentle tide, and in the early morning, left upon him a memory of blue, of red--a thread of one colour, a thread of another.

I'm unfamiliar with this fandom, but this is lovely~

Thank you! The fandom is a book basically about threads of fate, so this prompt was perfect for it! :D

Oo, I am intrigued then. . . ^.^

You can download it here if you like! :D

Ooh! Neat, thanks!

There was a lot Sypha could do as a Speaker and a magician that she did not share with her traveling companions simply because it wasn't necessary; for example, neither Trevor nor Alucard needed to know that she could see the strings of fate that bound people, and that more specifically, she could see the bright red string that connected the two of them.

She imagined a half-vampire and a vampire hunter would not be happy to hear that they were soulmates right now. So she'd keep it to herself, and settle for keeping them from murdering each other in the meantime.

. . .fate has excellent taste. >.> Good call, Sypha - for one thing, I feel like given Trevor's reaction to the prophecy, any nudges from fate would not net a positive response from him. >.>

Hahaha, yeah, maybe just keep it quiet until they've been married for 3 years. >.>

Fujin holds up her finger with an annoyed sigh, making it clear to Squall that there's red string tied around it, connected to him like all the others that he's seen.

"FATE."

As much as he knows that there are strings tied to him from nearly everyone at the Garden, trying to explain it to her now would end up like all the other attempts had been: futile.

Some part of Izuna always knew it would come to this. Come to them, with a thread thicker - stronger - more robust linking them than the thread between him and the Demon Tobirama, or even between Aniki and Hashirama.

He drinks the gasps and grunts and moans straight from Aniki's mouth, trailing down lower and lower, and their red thread glows brightly in his peripheral vision as he peers coyly up through his lashes, and swallows Aniki's cock.

Based on this fill

Leverage + The Expanse, Amos Burton, Eliot Spencer, path not taken (because these two have A LOT in common)

I don't think I've ever had a follow-up prompt to one of my fills before! How cool!

Star Wars, Mara Jade, like a damn sociopath

Any, Any, dancing with ghosts

Before Aradia ever met Sollux or Tavros, before she met Vriska and all of Vriska’s ghosts, her friends were a boy with blood-drenched hair and a girl who existed only as a voice on the wind. They’re both long gone – found what they wanted or just drifted off – but while they were there, they’d hover outside her window, throwing small stones at the glass until the sun set and they could call her out to play. She used to chase them through half-buried halls, and twirl with the wind in her skirts until the stars through the cracked-open roof made her dizzy, and none of it frightened her; death was always close, but in those nights, every ending seemed a long way away.

My girl!!! What a lovely fill; that last sentence esp hits powerfully, both poetic and wistful.

Thank you! And I love the salamander icon.

Dance was returning to Cybertron, but it didn't much resemble the dance from Cybertron's Golden Age. So much of it had been lost to war and destruction, and the gaps had been filled in with styles from other cultures brought in from colonists from all over the galaxy. Not that Rodimus could throw stones - he'd practically revived pole dance in Iacon using techniques he'd learned both in Vos and on Earth.

Dancer of Flamestep's buildline. Would Flamestep even recognize her buildline in the dances he performed? Would she disapprove?

...he couldn't know either way, unless some archaeological miracle turned up her diary or something. Until then all he could do was tell himself he didn't need two dead authority figures hanging over his shoulder disapproving of him, and dance the steps he knew.

(takes off from my fic Dipolemacy)

Eeeee, Dipolemacy! And good for you, Roddy, that's probably the best thing you can possibly do.

Bucky wonders if it was like this for Steve when he came out of the ice, though it's certainly not now. He never sees Steve in the early hours unable to sleep. It’s a relief to see Clint already sitting on the couch, curled up in blankets, TV on quietly, letting him know that he’s not the only one whose memory is dancing with ghosts in the dark.

Ianto came up from the archives and paused as he heard the soft sound of music drifting out from Jack's office; he made his way directly up to look in on Jack, and found him dancing with an invisible partner, his face melancholy and his eyes closed.

Ianto hesitated, but slipped inside, brushing a hand over Jack's shoulder and moving around to face him. Jack startled, steps hitching, and Ianto caught his hand, pulling him closer, feeling warm as he smiled and wrapped an arm around Ianto's waist, dance brought into the here and now and ghosts, for the moment, forgotten.

Lovely ♥

Thank you! ♡

It was the ghost of Lilith's great-grandmother who taught her to dance, whirling around the empty halls with incorporeal hands hovering just over her skin. Ancestors used to help her study for tests, and a girl who never gave them her name would tell Lilith and her brother extra bedtime stories after their parents had tucked them in for the night. The ghosts were fewer there, and Lilith knew all their faces, and in the jumble of Volisport's streets full of them, she finds herself homesick for the quieter, kinder dead.

I don't know the fandom (I know Oxventure is outsidexbox's d&d stream, but that's it), but this makes me want to! I love the image of 'incorporeal hands hovering just over her skin', and that last sentence is one hell of a closer.

Maggie holds her son to her breast, moving in slow circles around the bare floor of the room they've allocated as a nursery. If she closes her eyes, she can imagine Glenn at her back, his warm arms encircling them both. If she closes her eyes.

Murky doesn’t have to dance or prance to hear what the plants have to say: she just sits still and quiet and waits for the whispers and bells and rustling to understand themselves. She doesn’t like the kids in town much, they always yell and run around and say she’s too quiet and sort of creepy. Murky doesn’t mind – her parents say she’s a good girl and it’s nice and quiet under the earth.

oh i'm loving the sort of lilting rhyme and alliteration of the first sentence, dance to prance, prance to plants, say to she and sits and still, and waits to whisper with the sort of flowing rustling ending. the second sentence is blunter, and the last has a ... softness to it, like settling down to rest in the earth, where murky's parents love her.

ahhhh, thank you, i've been rereading this comment and blushing ever since i got it, i love how you pick apart my sentences to find devices and structures i wasn't even properly aware of, it's very flattering.

Night in the Woods, Any, while the town sleeps

There's something unreal about Possum Springs at night. Dark windows, empty streets. It feels like Mae's been given a glimpse of the future, a time when this town is dead instead of just dying, her safety net gone from under her.

She stands in the road, very still, listening for any sign that she's not the only one left alive.

"Mae?"

She turns around.

"Can't sleep either?" Bea asks.

"Are you real?" Mae asks.

Bea frowns, looks for a moment like she's going to ask a question about that. At last, she just shrugs. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm real."

'Pretty sure' is enough for now. It feels like anything more confident would be harder to believe.

"I was going for a walk," Bea says. "You want to come with me? It kind of seems better than just... standing in the road."

Oh. Right. Cars drive here. Not many, but enough for this to be a bad idea.

"Yeah, okay," Mae says. And, after a moment, probably too quietly for Bea to hear it, "Thanks."

I love this so much. Beautiful beautiful ficlet.

Lovely! Those first few sentences set the scene so well, and I'm always there for these two sharing a quiet moment.

Night in the Woods, Adina Astra, trailblazer

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Page 18 of 50

Three Sentence Ficathon 2022

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The glory of the sword is not who it may kill, but who it may save

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Shieldmaidens of Meduseld (Arda; Éomer, Éowyn)

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*grabs prompt with my grubby sleeping beauty hands* it's free real estate

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narnia, original character, a hundred years turned to stone

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i never write for poor peter so i needed to do this

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Power (Narnia; Pevensies) x4 (one each)

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grabs prompt with my grubby sleeping beauty hands it's free real estate

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