rthstewart | Three Sentence Ficathon 2022 Part 2

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Three Sentence Ficathon 2022 Part 2

UPDATE 14 FEBRUARY 2022 -- 3SF 2022 IS NOW CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS! Do continue to fill prompts already posted but the 3SF 2022 is now closed. We'll be back next year in a new comm (If I can get my act together). Thank you again!

THIS IS THE NEW POST FOR PART 2 OF THE 3 SENTENCE FICATHON -- ALL NEW PROMPTS SHOULD BE POSTED HERE
You may continue to fill prompts (but not leave new ones) at the original Post 1 here but please post new prompts here, not there. And if you're asking, hey is just me, or did this get enormous really fast? Why yes, yes it did. Last year, it took us ten days before I opened a new post. This year, it took us about 5.5 days to get there. So, by all means, go back and fill in Post 1 and post new prompts here!

Also woops, in an indication of how busy I've been with other things, I neglected to post that for a third year in a row the awesome

conuly started a master list of unclaimed prompts and has been updating it as time permits. Obviously a huge task! Thank you!

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

The Baby Sitters Club (Netflix series), Kristy (& siblings), Dad (aka Watson Brewer appreciation fic)

Edited 2022-01-21 06:19 (UTC)

The Baby Sitters Club (Netflix series), Karen Brewer, Karen gets teased about her name, big sibs to the rescue

Edited 2022-01-21 06:17 (UTC)

Narnia, Susan or Lucy, just like other girls

(sorry about the length, but I had ideas)

When Queen Susan enters the throne hall of Anvard, all eyes turn to her. They rove over the ruby and crimson of the dress, made with the finest of fabrics and the greatest of care, and linger on meticulous embroidery.

With a golden thread there are depictions of mountains and rivers, flowers, trees and Trees; naiads and Dryads make their home there, as well as Beasts in all shapes and sizes, roaming and romping and rearing. At the waist of her dress Fauns sing, Satyrs dance, Dwarfs craft and Centaurs gaze ever upwards, not to the stary night but the Gryphons and Birds that soar and glide along her neck and shoulders. And when she walks past, a golden Lion prowls on her cloak, roaring and leaping with every step she takes.

Susan watches the Archenlanders watch her, watches as their gazes linger and move ever upwards until they finally find her gleaming crown, bestowed upon her by the God they, too, worship. She sees them understand and smiles.

Narnia won’t be dismissed any longer.

...

The room is a buzz of activity as all the girls in Susan’s dorm get ready together.

Hair is coiled and clothes are straightened and rumples smoothed out. Lipstick is put on meticulously. In the corner, one girl helps another put make up on, and another trio clusters in front of the mirror, doling out advice and compliments in equal measure.

The world will look at them and expect weakness, expect flaws, and they will give the world nothing. In this, presentation matters.

Susan smiles and joins them.

It is a beautiful sunny day, clear skies and soft breezes all around, and yet Susan is inside, bent over her desk as she draws up a letter with unwavering concentration.

She writes a few words, pauses, then scratches them out. She’ll have to copy it all again later, but better find the right words and get them in order first. She can make no errors in this.

After all, this could determine the future of Narnia, for better or for worse. And almost as importantly: this could determine the course of Susan’s life. It is a dangerous, ambitious goal she is attempting to reach, but should she succeed it would all be worth it.

Susan takes a breath and starts again: ‘My dear Rabadash…’

...

A curse comes from the next room, followed by the ripping of paper and stomping feet. A moment of silence, and then the typewriter starts clicking again.

From her place on the couch Susan continues to read her newspaper. She sent the bulk of her own application letters in last week, most for secretary posts here and there. Anywhere where they need someone with good organization skills and high work ethics is good enough for her, at least for now.

Mary Ann, on the other hand, is aiming for her dream position, which is to be a nurse. This obviously increases the pressure for her and on top of that Susan’s friend is quite the perfectionist. Susan is proud of her, truth to be told, and she thinks that Mary Ann would be a good nurse, but she also wishes her friend would cut herself some slack, once in a while.

But Susan can hardly pretend to be the wiser woman in that respect, even if she has learned to relax a little more since… Well. Since she was younger.

Another curse comes from the next room.

Susan stands up and puts the kettle on.

Susan smiles as the Birch girl rambles on, talking about anything and everything, from the new members to the Squirrel family who live near to her to the rising unrest among the Dryads of the Shuddering Woods as a nearby settlement of Dwarfs almost encroaches on their territory. She brushes and braids Susan’s hair with expert skill as she does so, and Susan can’t say she regrets taking her on as a lady in waiting.

The newest member of her household is chatty, that is certain, but there is a wealth of information in what she says, passed on by friends and family and even the wind and leaves themselves.

Susan’s eyes fall on the Rat who sits in the corner of the room, the lady dwarf on the stool next to her, and the Magpie in the window, all of whom are listening as well. She sighs and closes her eyes, relaxing back into her chair.

...

Gossip, Susan learned a long time ago, is a treasure trove of knowledge and information. Oh, it should be carefully parsed and certainly not be blithely believed, but once one’s got the hang of it, it’s a most valuable resource.

Susan thinks she might be the only one of their siblings who ever truly learned this. Even Edmund, for all his intelligence networks and secret informers, never completely stopped dismissing gossip off hand.

So when one of Susan’s new friends visits and immediately starts talking about this rumour or that, he usually just rolls his eyes and leaves the room.

But Susan just think of the chatty Birch Dryad she once knew, and the many other good friends besides, and she listens with rapt attention.

Rabadash smiles constantly, Susan has noticed.

He smiles as he shows her his home and he smiles as he asks her to dance and he even smiles when takes a step back and says she will retire to her rooms now, even as his eyes tell a different story.

Susan doesn’t let that stop her of course, but she does become a little more careful in his presence, smiles a little less, tries to keep her distance.

In the end, of course, it doesn’t matter.

...

Susan pushes her way through the crowd to reach the corner of the room, where she leans against the wall and closes her eyes for a second. After having danced non-stop for nearly an hour, she needs a breather.

When she opens her eyes again, they catch on a pair standing a little way to the left of her, far enough away that she can’t hear what they are saying over the tumult of the party, but close enough that she has a clear view of them.

Like a huntress who has never unlearned her trade, Susan hones in on the body language of the girl, which screams uncomfortable. The says something to the man leaning, almost looming, over her, clearly forcing a smile, but he grabs her arm and steps even closer to her.

Susan takes a step towards them without thinking, but before she can do anything the girl rips her arm loose and stalks off, the man laughing at her retreating figure.

Susan’s eyes track the girl as she leaves the room, making sure no one follows her. Only when the girl is safely out of sight does Susan relax again.

Then she moves towards the door, not feeling like partying anymore.

Susan paces through the halls of Cair Paravel, unable to sit still as she waits for news that should have come hours ago. She can’t say she isn’t used to it by now, isn’t used to stand by patiently as her siblings make war, but it never really gets any easier.

Of course, there are preparations to be made, as there always are: rooms to be prepped for the wounded, supplies to be stocked and ordered, healers and menders and cooks to be organized, messengers to be sent and information to be received and decided on. Even the walls need to be manned, or ready to be manned, and the castle secured, in case the worst should happen.

Susan is well versed in this and so are her people, which means things are running smoothly. A relief, to be sure, but it also means that there is not much for her to do anymore.

So Susan does what she always does: she prepares and she prays and she waits.

...

It is always a bit of a frantic, jittery chaos when the post comes. The girls in her room rush this way and that: the cupboards are organized and the rooms cleaned many times over, tea is made and set to the side and the doors and windows are checked continuously. Anything to keep their hands, and minds, busy.

It doesn’t get any easier here either. No one wants to receive bad news.

So Susan holds hands and soothes fears and she takes care of the girls as best as she can. And then they wait.

Edited 2022-01-21 22:36 (UTC)

Oh, this is really great! Love the parallels, and Susan as a huntress protecting her fellow women--excellent.

thank you!

This is AMAZING!!! I love you weave the past and present together!! Using her experience in Narnia to navigate England!!

thanks, I'm glad you liked it!

I love this! All of Susan's strengths

thank you!

oh this is a beautiful character study, i love the way the life susan lived in narnia flows through the life she’s making in the real world. and that description of her dress at the beginning? gorgeous.

thank you so much!

Beautiful ♥

Thank you!

"Hey, Pevensie," a dirt-smeared, grass-stained woman says, holding the ball loosely between her arm and her hip, "I'll bet you'll be a great winger. Wanna play?"

Lucy's smile lights up the entire pitch as she runs on, for finally, she has found the people who will appreciate Valiant, instead of insisting that she be Gentle, instead.

Yessss! I love this!!!!

They try, when they return from Narnia. Lucy has an easier time of it. She is still a child and slip ups can be attributed to a child’s imagination. But Susan is older, nearly a woman. She is expected to be practical, logical. England tells her she can’t do so many things and Susan draws into herself blends in in a way that Lucy never gets the hang of.

Star Wars, Leia and Jyn, Jyn as Leia's handmaiden/bodyguard

Star Wars, any, the persistence of non-Jedi Force traditions

Shmi placed the old bones in the bowl and let her mind go blank; an old form of future-casting, something passed down to her from her mother, her mother's mother, and ever mother hence.

Is my Anakin alright? she asked the bowl; she closed her eyes and held up her hand, and did not let it rest until she felt the bones clatter back into the bowl.

They were arranged crossed; she relaxed -- for the time, he was far from her, but he was safe, and that was enough.

Oooh, I love this a lot.

Oh, thank you! I love stories about Shmi and her resilience.

This is just perfect. I'm already a sucker for force-sensitive Shmi and add to that non-Jedi Force use... I enjoyed it so much.

This is so lovely! I love the idea of Shmi's Force traditions being a kind of folk magic.

Oh I love this! Force-sensitive Shmi is the best!

The Originals or Vampire Diaries or Teen Wolf or Cobra Kai, any two male characters, just because you hate the guy doesn't mean you won't hug him gently when he's drunk and crying

Damon’s never exactly loved Matt Donovan, always thought the town’s resident token human was a self righteous boring bastard. But as Matt comes into the Mystic Grill drunkenly ranting at anyone who’ll listen and a few who don’t give a crap about the South Carolina police department being so useless that they didn’t track him down when they first found Kelly dead, veering into another rant about how all his friends’ parents had been better parental figures to him than Kelly had anyway, and finally cursing himself for not having returned that last drunk message from Kelly years ago, Damon realises he can’t just ignore it.

He walks over with a glass of his favourite Bourbon, takes a seat next to Matt and hugs him, thinking about his own recent loss of Stefan, how there are so many regrets he has about things he could have done differently there, and thinks that maybe he and Matt have something in common after all.

Awww!

Oh this is so painful and gorgeous and right in character too - love this!! Thank you!!!

You’re an Asshole—You can Stay

Stiles threads through the crowds of drunk college students, making his way to the kitchen, then out the back door. There’s a tiny courtyard behind the frat house, with two chairs, a fire pit, and a grill. There are no fires right now, only a figure slumped in one of the chairs, two bottles on the ground by his feet and one held loosely in his hand.

Bottles. Because of course Jackson hid the good stuff for himself, while everyone else is stuck with whatever cheap swill is coming out of the keg.

Not the point. Stiles tamps down on the instinctive irritation and makes his way over. He pulls the second chair so it’s facing Jackson, leaving them knees to knees as soon as Stiles sits. He bumps Jackson’s knee with his own, and Jackson looks up, brow furrowed and eyes red even in the dim light of darkness beneath the full moon.

“Come to gloat?”

“Nope.” Stiles pops the p, sinking down in the chair now that he has Jackson’s attention. He takes a slow swig of the beer in his red cup, grimaces, and sets it aside. “Gimme.”

Jackson’s glare holds no heat; it’s hard to be offended by someone with tracks from tears streaking across his cheeks. When Stiles wiggles his fingers again, Jackson hands over the bottle. Okay, maybe it’s not the good stuff, exactly, but it’s better than what’s in the keg.

Stiles spots one unopened bottle, and two more empties under Jackson’s chair. “Maybe you’ve had enough.”

“I am a werewolf lizard hybrid,” Jackson says, each word carefully distinct. “I can hold my booze.”

“And yet, you are drunk.” Wait. Stiles peers at the label of the bottle in his hand. “Is this going to kill me?”

“I could only hope.” Jackson leans forward, the whisper slurring as he confesses, “It’s my second six-pack.”

“Third if we count the one you wear,” Stiles quips. Jackson looks confused, so obviously the rare compliment was lost on his alcohol-infused brain. Stiles sighs. “Jackson. I know it sucks, but it’s not like you didn’t know—”

“We were going to talk about it after six months,” Jackson says firmly, like Stiles hasn’t heard him and Danny talking about this before. He and Ethan had broken up when Jackson returned to the States for school. Neither Danny nor Stiles expected this to change. Apparently Jackson had.

“I heard from Danny,” Stiles says quietly. “He said you told him to go away. Danny’s the nice guy. No one tells him to go away.”

“I don’t want anyone being nice to me right now.” Jackson looks at the bottle in Stiles’s hand, then reaches down to grab the remaining bottle and open it. He takes a long drink, his head tilted back. “You’re an asshole. You can stay.”

Jackson lowers his hand slowly, the bottle barely held between his fingers. His head stays tilted back, and Stiles swears he hears him sniffle.

God damn it, Jackson’s crying again.

“Fine.” Stiles finishes the bottle in his hand, and lets it join the others on the ground. “Then what this asshole is going to do is give you the hug you so obviously need.” He pushes to his feet and lets momentum carry him until he’s sitting across Jackson’s lap. He slides his arms around Jackson, pulling his head against his chest, where his ear presses to Stiles’s heartbeat.

His fingers curl in Jackson’s hair and at the nape of his neck, and he strokes slowly when Jackson’s shoulders shudder in a sob.

“You hate me,” Jackson mumbles. “You’re probably happy Ethan broke it off.”

That’s both right and wrong in so many ways, and Jackson doesn’t even know. But Stiles isn’t going to get into that now. Instead he leans down to kiss the top of Jackson’s head, holding him carefully. “Just because I hate you doesn’t mean I won’t hold you when you cry,” he murmurs.

Stiles grunts softly when Jackson wraps his arms around him, and Jackson’s tail curls around his waist, holding him firmly in place. The sobs are heartbreaking, but Stiles hopes it does Jackson good to cry. He needs to get Ethan out of his system for good.

“Why?” Jackson’s question is muffled by Stiles’s soaked shirt.

Stiles huffs. “Ask me that again when you’re sober. And only if you actually want to know the answer. Then give me a few weeks to get up the courage to answer. Okay?”

Jackson doesn’t answer but that’s fine. This will all probably be lost to the alcohol fugue, and then Stiles won’t have to work up the courage to say how he truly feels. As he slides a hand down Jackson’s back, moving it in slow, comforting circles, Stiles puts all those thoughts away for another day. Right now he just wants to focus on making Jackson feel better.

This is so great - this is SOOO in character for both, both in terms of their voices in the dialogue and their overall attitudes. I love that Stiles has feelings that they connect despite each thinking the other is an asshole, and just the whole dynamic. Thank you!!

I love writing these two together, and I'm glad you liked it. Thank you!!

The Long Dark, Mathis & Donner, Losing a child is like...

Star Wars: TCW, Anakin/Ahsoka, do as I say, not as I do

"We should stop," Anakin pants, but he does it in between one kiss and the next, both hands gripping Ahsoka's hips with just the right amount of strength.

Ahsoka snorts and says, "Yeah, because that's what you're doing," and then she bites into Anakin's shoulder to cover a growl.

"Come on, Snips, you — fuck, yeah, that's good — you know how it goes — do as I say, not as I do," Anakin says, but he shifts his thigh between her legs and makes her whine, makes her hand tighten where it's rubbing at his cock through his pants, and the next thing he says has nothing at all to do with stopping.

Oh yeah Anakin, it totally seems like you think stopping is the way to go! He might try to be the responsible, serious one, but...that's never going to last long. I love how much fun you write them having, it's so hot and delicious and just happy.

Crossover: The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation/Scum Villain's Self-Saving System, Qin Su/Qiu Haitang, any

star wars, the clones and padme & her handmaidens, roleswap between the clones and handmaidens/padme

greek mythology, apollo & cassandra, this post

“Stop saying that,” he says, and though the beauty of his voice rings in golden tones, as it ever will, she hears the discordant note, the irritation, the blemish on his perfect light.

“Is it not fair that people should know the truth, just this once?” Cassandra asks, her voice sharp in comparison, a jagged, wretched thing, all edges to slice herself upon. “Was that not our point of contention, after all - that you could never satisfy me, my sweet, cherished, forgiving lord?” she says, and watches his face twist, triumph dancing within her.

In your face Apollo! ;) Cassandra deserves some revenge

*giggles* Oh my goodness, that post! At least Cassandra gets ah, some satisfaction just this once.

YES GOOD

any, any, fish out of water

Bucky looks around him, at these friends of Steve, these people who stepped up with Steve to protect him and were willing to put their own lives in danger to keep him from being taken into custody by Stark and his people, or worse, Ross and his.

They may be in Wakanda now, the fight over and even the King having changed his mind about whether Bucky should be in custody, but Bucky still feels like a fish out of water, not knowing his place, not knowing how to express how truly grateful he is for this chance they’ve given him, even as he knows what he’s going to ask of the King.

He’ll put it to him when Steve isn’t there, hoping that he’ll understand so that when he has to tell Steve someone will have his back because Steve is going to hate this idea, even when Bucky is sure it’s the only way to be safe, sure. He knows the lengths Steve’s friends will go to in order to keep him safe, but now he’s seen what the Wakandans can do, he has to believe they’ll find an answer, a solution to keep everyone safe and until then he can do this for these people. Bucky can trust and wait in a frozen sleep.

It seems strange now for Lu to think back to the time when Nadia and the others first started at Las Encinas, and she had referred to them as a different species.

Now that Lu is at Columbia, there’s a part of her that sees herself as the real fish out of water, struggling to fit in here while Nadia has made friends easily, while Lu tags along with them but never feeling like she really belongs.

From the queen bee of Las Encinas, she had become the outsider, relying on Nadia to get to know people, and although she’s trying not to let it happen, after all Nadia has done for her, Lu feels her old resentments starting to resurface.

Neutemoc was stern with his family, exactly the model of a Mexica patriarch, but...but his children weren’t scared of him. They ran shrieking with laughter around the courtyard, Necalli and Ohtli deliberately slowing their pace so little Mazatl could keep up, and Neutemoc only chuckled at their antics. He let them draw in the corners with charcoal and in the dirt with sticks.

Teomitl stood in the doorway watching them for so long that Acatl brushed his arm with a concerned expression, and he stepped aside with a murmured, “Sorry.”

Acatl wasn’t fooled. He gazed past him, watching his nieces and nephew for a long moment. “They’re good children.”

“Teomitl!” Mazatl shrieked. “Uncle Acatl says he’s teaching you magic, can you show us?”

Teomitl blinked. Acatl nudged him lightly. “Go on.”

Well. He supposed that counted as permission. Smiling, he went to show the toddler a few simple spells.

Dal Timgar knew residing on Earth for the duration of medical school would require he accept and even participate in the customs of the planet, no matter how alien they appeared to him.

His first attempt at a Christmas present, based on a careful reading of his friend Tiger Martin's favorite holiday book, showed he had more to learn than just microsurgery.

"It's usually just an expression," Tiger explained with a friendly grin, admiring the actual door nail fitted into a miniature coffin with the name "Jacob Marley" etched into the wood.

Also inspired by syrena_of_the_lake (2022-01-21 12:17 am)

Also inspired by topaz_eyes (2022-01-21 03:57 am)

Beluga's Discord YouTube Series/Watch Dogs, Hecker&The DedSec Crew, DedSec encounters someone they can't beat

Edited 2022-01-21 11:30 (UTC)

Shang Chi, any, Spring Festival

(I'm posting this prompt so I can fill it in this post, but feel free to also write your own fill.)

waters of the yellow river flow from heaven divine, with fish

White shirt, black slacks, leather sandals, like that night when he picked them up in Macau, Xu Wenwu looks more like a retired accountant than the leader of the most fearsome army in the world walking into Katy’s living room.

“Sis,” Ruihua whispers to Katy, “I’m really convinced now that you just made up all that shit about what went down in Macau.”

Looking at the unassuming-looking man in front of her, if Katy hasn’t seen him attempt to murder both his children about with his magic Ten Rings, and then later, rescue those same children from the Dweller-in-Darkness by making the Rings choke the very lifeforce out of it, she probably would think she has been making shit up too.

Waipo gets on with Xu Wenwu like a house on fire; Katy has never seen anything so bizarre in her entire life: if she doesn’t know any better, she’d say Waipo is flirting???? with Xu Wenwu, who is also…almost flirting back??????

Or at least, they seem so lost in sharing memories of the village where Waipo came from, where Xu Wenwu apparently also spent many years (and for him to say many, it must be at least a hundred, Katy thinks), that they are ignoring the rest of the table and oblivious to everyone else staring at them with expressions ranging from confusion to what-the-fuckery-is-this.

He’s literally nine hundred years – give or take – older than her! Katy thinks, before she forces herself to also remember that, really, Waipo can take care of herself, anyway.

“In my youth, I identified greatly with the words of my friend Taibai, that 天生我材必有用﹐千金散尽还复来 (each of us was given talents, and ne'er born in vain, spend a thousand gold coins, and they would turn up again),” Xu Wenwu says. “But these days, I cannot help but feel more weight in the words of a man of a prior generation, 前不见古人 / 后不见来者 / 念天地之悠悠 / 独怆然而涕下 (Ahead, I see no ancient sages / Nor behind, those sages yet unborn / While, on and on, heaven and earth shall roll / Alone I stand, tears a-falling, forlorn).”

“When he says Li Bai was his friend, he means that literally,” Shaun adds helpfully, and still an extended silence ensues, during which time Katy is sure no one else around the table quite know what they can possibly say to relate to this singular sentiment.

“waters of the yellow river flow from heaven divine” is the first line of the first poem that Wenwu quotes. Fish is always served at Spring Festival as in Chinese it is a homophone for “surplus” (as in money).

Edited 2022-01-21 12:35 (UTC)

At the end of it all, what is she left to do? Her brother had a life — a shitty one, perhaps, but a life nonetheless — but she's only ever had her fighters and warriors and scrappy boys, certainly not anyone she'd spend the Spring Festival with.

As the winter starts to relax its harsh grip on the world, Xialing books a ticket to San Francisco, rings her brother's doorbell, holds up the plate of tangyuan she made hunched over in her crappy hotel room, and says, "I brought food."

This is so bittersweet <3 I love it so much!!

I'm in awe of how much poetry knowledge you have, and how you worked it in!

loool I just watch a lot of period dramas. Wenwu's quoting of these two poems are inspired by one of the brilliant scenes in Chinese period drama history imo: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KLzvDlmjBtg

OMG HE IS SO DRUNK AND DRAMATIC I LOVE HIM. And hearing the poems recited (defiantly, drunkenly) is so cool.

And hey, knowledge is knowledge, however you source it. :P

Scum Villain's Self-Saving System, Shen Qingqiu (Shen Yuan)/Tianlang-jun, what the fuss is about

Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Mercedes & any, insight

Narnia, any,

“I’m here for the murder investigation,” Edmund announced.
“Which one?” asked Sallowpad dryly.
Edmund blinked. “There’s more than one?”
“It depends on whether you mean murder or murder, Your Majesty.”
“That clears it up,” Edmund muttered. He strode into the glade and pulled up short. The trees were black with crows — a shifting, restless, but unusually silent mass of crows — and black feathers mingled with russet leaves falling to the ground. In the center of the clearing, there were no birds.
There was, however, a corpse with a knife in its back.
“Ah,” said Edmund. “The second murder. Quite.”
“Please, sire — the /other/ murder. Otherwise you’ll start rumors that more than one person has been killed,” censured Sallowpad.
“Right.” Edmund sighed. “And the, er, original murder investigation?”
Sallowpad mantled, shedding a few black feathers of his own. “The theft of visiting royalty’s jewelry, while of grave importance, is not as pressing as the death of one of the Calormene guards.”
“Of course not!” Edmund rolled his eyes. “What I meant is — why are they here? Don’t tell me the cases are related!”
“Unknown,” croaked Sallowpad. “But I heard one of the Calormene delegates threaten bodily harm to one or more members of the Royal Murder.”
“Tell me.” Edmund’s voice was dangerously low.
“He said that, should the true thief be unmasked, he would… eat crow.” Sallowpad shuddered.
But Edmund grinned like the proverbial well-fed cat. “Did he now? It’s not what you think, Chief” — and someday, he would have to explain the idiom, but the longer he could put off that conversation, the better. “I have the feeling our two cases are related after all. Dismiss the murder — we’ll have to interview the crows later, but I think we’ll find the delegate himself is behind the thefts. The /other/ murder may hold the key, but I suspect Calormene infighting is at the root of it all. Someone is trying to lay the blame — not to mention the corpse — at our doorstep.”
“I hope so,” said Sallowpad darkly. “Or the Tisroc will eat us all.”
“Not to worry, my friend.” Edmund crouched next to the body. “I’m on the case.”

—

“I’m here for the murder investigation,” Edmund announced, trying to ignore the sense of deja vu.
The Scotland Yard detective in charge took in the sight of Edmund’s Oxford robes and blinked. “Professor…?”
“Pevensie, three E’s, one I, not in that order.” Edmund crouched next to the body, trying to ignore his aching, arthritic knees along with the sense of deja vu. “This is the fourth dead crow left on an MP’s doorstep. The previous three have been followed by assassination attempts. Yes, yes, all very hush-hush, I didn’t find out through the paper. My brother Peter told me. He was MP number two on your list, I would have thought you could spell our surname by now.” Edmund straightened with a wince. “You need a man who can tell you about crows, so you can track down the perpetrator before he perpetrates again. I’m your man.”
The detective seemed far too young for such an important case, but was no younger than Edmund had been when the Calormenes killed one of their own, stole their own jewels, and tried to blame it on Narnia. Still, he seemed a little slow — it took him a full minute to formulate a response to Edmund’s introduction.
“You’re… an ornithologist?”
Edmund shook his head. “You’re thinking of my cousin, Professor Emeritus Eustace Scrubb, and he doesn’t just study birds, it’s all tied to dinosaurs. No, I’m a professor of law. But for anything involving crows, not to mention the other sort of murder, I’m your man. In fact,” he added with a sly smile, “I’ve been called the Crowfessor.”
For some reason, the detective did not look appropriately reassured.

Edited 2022-01-25 18:34 (UTC)

The back and forth of the dialogue here!! I love the rhythm of it, the repetition of 'murder investigation', the difficulties of spelling Pevensie (not in that order). Witty as always!!

This is amazing!! So many references!! So many murders!!! I love it!!

As I said in the Discord, it's impossible to imagine any one but you, with your wry, quick wit, to fill this prompt. You are simply amazing and this is so so clever. I love all the plays on Crows and murders and murder and the Crow Whisperer Confessor to the rescue.

This is so perfect!! Now I want to see Edmund explaining the "eat crow" reference to Sallowpad :D

omg, this is glorious! edmund is a blessing, and the rhythm of the dialogue is absolutely perfect for the wordplay here. i love how PROUD he is to have been called the Crowfessor.

oh syrena, I don't even have words for how lovely this is

Ha! :)

omg this is fantastic XD

any, any, can't help but laugh

They thought they were being discreet. They truly thought nobody was noticing the shift in their dynamic. They were idiots.

He may have been mostly blind now—gods, one day he was going to murder Tizoc-tzin with his bare hands—but he could see Acatl’s gray-black smoky magic mingled with Teomitl’s green jade anywhere. And he was, of course, seeing it everywhere, because they were practically attached at the hip wherever they went. After banquets they found secluded courtyards; in the middle of the Sacred Precinct the wind tangled their cloaks together.

So, of course, when he walked into Acatl’s temple one day and reflexively closed his eyes on a sight he did not want to see even in his mind’s eye, all he could do was cackle.

“You really thought everyone didn’t know?”

Then Acatl had to hold Teomitl back from doing something violent, but Acamapichtli didn’t even care if the punch landed. His day was already made.

this felt so soft to read

any, any, “I get knocked down, but I get up again”

Tubthumping - Chumbawumba

Martin Riggs thought he heard somewhere that you can't keep a good man down.

Now he's starting to wonder just how good a guy has to be for that to hold true, because honestly, he really hasn't been trying that hard lately.

Still, every time he goes down, he gets back up again, no matter how hard the punch, how good the shot, how strong the liquor, nothing ever works, he just keeps on going, like it or not... and most days, he doesn't.

he sounds miserable, which i think is the point, so, well done XD

Yup, he definitely was miserable. His wife and unborn child were killed in an accident and he felt he had nothing left to live for... but he found other people and other things to live for later, so it was fine ;)

Lee pulled himself up out of the dirt, coughing a little on the dust he'd breathed when he'd been slammed face-down into it. He grinned and gave a cheerful thumbs-up, his battered fingers throbbing.

"I will become a genius of hard work!" Lee reminded himself under his breath, climbing back to his feet and dropping into his ready stance.

little known fact, this song was originally about Lee

That tracks. XP

"I've got an idea," Nora says, "but I'm not sure you're going to like it."

"Way ahead of you," Jaune says, flashing his shield out and vaulting from behind their cover.

His swift return to cover after getting thumped by the Grimm, surprisingly, did not discourage him from trying again.

Edited 2022-02-14 01:49 (UTC)

excellent subject for this prompt XD

Waspinator hauled himself up out of the repair pool to find the Darkseid's command center empty.

Which was not unexpected, really. Nobody waited around for Waspinator. They were probably off nursing their wounded pride somewhere else. Waspinator wished he had that problem. Wounded pride seemed a lot less inconvenient than having to drag one's own disarticulated components back home for repairs.

Ah well - another day, another opportunity. Waspinator flicked the last of the nanite solution off his wings, transformed and buzzed off into the night sky. Until the universe found another rock to drop on his head, he would do his best.

any, any, “I get my kicks above the waistline, sunshine.”

One Night in Bangkok - Chess OST

(Wheel of Time, book spoilers, not canon-compliant)

Galad is one to seek the best of any situation, even the loss of his arm. He has an opportunity to relearn new sword forms with his weak hand; like al'Thor, he must accept weakness and realize he cannot solve every problem with righteous duelling; and perhaps some of the women admirers who threw themselves at him, only seeking his physical prowess, will bother someone else instead.

"Do you know how to play sha'rah?" trills Berelain of Mayene. "It's an ancient game, my family has excelled at it since the time of Artur Hawkwing"--and Galad sighs; one hand is more than enough to move the pieces across the board, and not nearly enough to dismiss Berelain.

oh no, torture by fantasy chess XD

The succubus flung her long dark hair back, beckoning to Giles. Her smile tugged at something in him, deep and primal. It took all his strength to resist.

He summoned up his reserves, pushed up his glasses and said, “I get my kicks above the waistline, sunshine.”

Her eyes glittered. “That’s not what Eyghon used to say, Ripper.”

Stunned, Giles’s spell died on his lips. Suddenly the demon when up in a dust cloud and Buffy stepped through where the succubus had stood.

“You okay, Giles?”

He managed to nod but the ghosts of his past robbed him of his voice. It was true. No matter how far you run, you can’t outrun yourself.

nice!

Thanks

She's always had to deal with guys staring at her chest, but this is the first time that both the men's and the women's eyes follow her along with Aerith and Cloud.

"Honey, what are you doing with these two when you could make way more gil with those two?" one of the girls asked her, indicating her chest.

"Sorry," Tifa said, turning to show the woman the side slit in her dress, eliciting an appreciative whistle for her legs, "but I get my kicks above the waistline."

hee, go Tifa! :DDDD

any, any, “we both know you’re worth so much more”

Legally Blonde - Legally Blonde the Musical OST

I suppose I’ll go back to Austria now,” says Gertrude, looking down at her hands, “I wasn’t a very good queen and now without a king I’m hardly Danish at all anymore so there’s no reason for me to stay – oh god, who would take me now that I’m used goods?”

“Who told you you’re not a good queen, because I will fight them in single combat,” he says at once, but they both know who it was and both know that in all his life Claudius never dared stand against his brother directly, even at the very end. “If – if you would be my wife,” he dares, “then no one could make you leave here, if staying is what you want.”

....y'know what, I don't think I've ever seen a take that makes Claudius and Gertrude sympathetic before.

that's so delightful to hear, because sympathetic claudius/gertrude is sort of my specialty. i have a whole extended universe based on a specific production where claudius is charming and guilt-ridden and absolutely in love with his wife. king hamlet is pretty clearly implied to have been abusive, which you can tell from how quick hamlet and gertrude are to flinch at loud noises and rush to appease anyone who might be upset with them, and the way claudius is constantly hiding his hands and his emotions and gets tense whenever a scene threatens to break out into open conflict, and that just adds so much to all of their characters.

might explain a thing or two about Hamlet too, come to think. I'm fascinated, thank you for sharing!

aaah gertrude, she’s so clearly spiraling, but everything she’s saying makes sense to her and how she sees her place in the world, used goods, easily cast off. and claudius offering to fight anyone who tells her she’s not a good queen is so charming, and a little bit sad with the aside that no, that’s not really how he defeated his brother in the end (but he did, they’re free now, and if she wants a place he’ll give it to her, he didn’t dare back then but he’s daring now).

thank you so much! this is everything i was hoping to express with this story. claudius loves gertrude a lot, and he's very charming (and yes, a little bit sad). and gosh, 'he didn't dare back then but he's daring now' is such a beautiful way to describe their relationship at this point.

“I have to work harder,” Teomitl says, scraping his hair back from his face. “I have to do better. If Tizoc is left to his own devices...”

“There’s not much else you can do,” Acatl says, and hates himself for it. He knows, after all, that there’s one thing Teomitl could do to handle the looming threat that is Tizoc’s continued reign, and he’s asked Teomitl to wait. I’ll give it a few years, Teomitl had promised, and knowing that he intends to keep it should make Acatl feel better.

Except that their Revered Speaker couldn’t lead a dog kennel, never mind an Empire, and watching Teomitl all but tear himself apart trying to keep the country together behind Tizoc’s back feels like a knife in Acatl’s heart.

“It would be so much easier if he just—if he just listened.” Teomitl blinks, and his eyes are wet. “If he—he was always arrogant, but he at least used to pay attention to things that weren’t himself. Now—he barely even hears me when I speak, and I’m his Master of the House of Darts!”

Teomitl must be exhausted, because he sounds close to tears. Acatl swallows past a lump in his own throat and reaches out to lay a hand on his arm. “You’re more than that. Didn’t I teach you well?”

Teomitl blushes, just barely visible on his dark skin, and doesn’t pull away. “...You did,” he murmurs, sounding a little bit more like himself. There’s the edge of a smile beginning in his voice. “Forgive me, I was...”

“Having a reasonable reaction to extended time in Tizoc’s presence?” Since that’s what Mihmatini is always telling them, he knows it will make Teomitl truly smile for once in this long, long day. It would help if you expressed your feelings more, she says, and Acatl thinks about the warm soft unfurling in his chest when Teomitl looks at him and wonders about that.

He’s not disappointed. Teomitl does smile, and then he clasps Acatl’s hand and his fingers are warm. “You’re right. I’ll figure something out.”

“I’ll help,” Acatl says without thinking, and Teomitl—

Teomitl looks like the sun.

any, any, “some girls fight hard, some face the trial - some girls are just meant to smile”

Legally Blonde - Legally Blonde the Musical OST

They had a rule, "always a monarch at Cair Paravel", (that way they’re never vulnerable, that way there’s always someone to make the decisions); always a monarch at Cair Paravel, but it was almost always her, just because she didn't much like waring. Peter was away so much, and Edmund often with him to advice, and help - always someone to fight; Lucy running around, never one place long.

So Susan stayed home, Susan held everything together with her winning smile, and persuasive personality -while the others were out protecting them, Susan was here, at home, ruling the country.

excellent!

Susan, yes! At home the most -- and holding it all together.

love this!

Toni is unbearably, unapologetically her true self; she wouldn’t live a lie like Shelby does, she’d fight tooth and nail or die trying. But Shelby—- Shelby won’t, she can’t, not when the self-loathing cuts so deep she can barely admit it to herself, not when her family and everything would be lost. She isn’t meant for this, being untethered to the expectations of the rest of the world; she’s not meant to be free, she’s meant to be the good, dutiful daughter and sing in pageants while she hides her tears and forget kissing Becca and lingering desires and plaster smiles on her face until her cheeks hurt—- to keep up her life’s lie.

(And in the moments she is left alone, to beg for God to save her and make her the way she’s supposed to be.)

all too relatable

Vanessa smiles for the camera, poses with her arms around Pippa or Dominik, gives her fans what they want, promotes one new bar after another while not giving a shit how many hits she gets.

In these moments she closes the door on her real life and blocks it out, not Vanessa von Hohenfeld but Instagram influencer von_nessa, smiles for the camera, acting like she’s having the time of her life because it’s what she has to do.

No one sees the real Vanessa, the one who has to hide her grief for Joseph Madlmeyer, the one she truly loved, the Vanessa who struggles with the fact that she’s no longer happy with Dominik, the Vanessa who’s unable to be honest with anyone, even herself.

ouch D:

Lalwen fights Fëanor, and she fights at Fingolfin’s side until the day she can no longer stand, falling beside Fingolfin before his last ride.

Findis stands before Olwë, before Ingwë, before the Valar themselves, arguing for their family’s return until she wins Finrod and Turgon, Fingolfin and Lalwen, Fingon and Aredhel back, pair by pair rejoining them, until finally she wins them all, Finwë and Fëanor and Fëanor’s sons returned.

Faniel smiles until she reaches her rooms, serene smile slipping from her face as she pens another anonymous screed, words slipping into the minds of those who read them until Valinor can talk of nothing but them.

interesting twist at the end!

Ursula was banished for basically no reason – she even got interrupted in the middle of a weekly torture session without getting to enjoy the thrill of completion, which is simply not fair – but rather than raising a fuss and protesting her innocence, she just smiled and bowed to Triton's spineless will. Better to bide her time and plot out her revenge, or better yet, a watertight plan to regain her power and status with no fear of reprisal. Lawyers – don't you just love 'em?

I could definitely hear Ursula's voice in this XD

heee, thank you!

(also, in case you've never gotten the joy of experiencing 'i want the good times back' from the broadway musical)

love that ursula can think 'banished for basically no reason' and 'weekly torture session' in the same sentence, and what's really unfair is she didn't get to finish. her diction just drips with smug self-congratulation, and is sort of delightful, if we're being honest. just like ursula herself!

ursula is SO delightful, and so much fun to write! the stage musical gives her several new numbers where she really gets to revel in her evil plans. "did i use some black magic? well oopsie, my bad! did i mutilate, maim, and destroy? just a tad! and for that i get banished, but me, i'm not mad..."

any, any, “some of them want to use you / some of them want to get used by you”

Sweet Dreams - Eurythmics

(i didn't originally post this to fill it myself, Megatron is just a pushy bastard.)

Nine million years before he would awaken on an alien world to fight the final battles in a war that would decide Cybertron's fate, Megatron walked into a ballroom filled with the most powerful people on Cybertron and prepared to make them his followers.

Captains of industry - senators - celebrities - and the Winglord of Vos, making interested optics at him from across the room. Megatron tossed aside his fancy cape and strode into the fray. The evening turned into a blur of empty promises and turbowolf smiles, mechs hungry for power happy to promise anything if Megatron would provide it. Fools, Megatron thought, smiling.

But as many tiresome old wrecks Megatron met that day, it was worth it to find the few mechs who were of a similar mind, who understood that the power structures of Cybertron needed to be restructured, centralized - the Winglord, with an army at his command, chief among them.

They were eager to bring Megatron's vision into reality. Megatron was eager to use them.

This is indeed perfect for Starscream & Megatron, now who is who is the question! :D

Hamlet knows what Iago is doing, knows he was kidding himself from the beginning to think what they had could ever be sweet, and it’s always been about control for him. Joke’s on him, though, because Hamlet wants to be used, deserves to have his face smeared into the floor, and knows just how to turn his sobs musical enough to keep Iago coming back.

So which of them, he laughs through a mouthful of blood, is really winning this game of theirs?

oh ouch, this hurts in the best way

thank you! iago is just the worst idea

hamlet! hamlet. oh honey, i really don't think you're winning the game (but as a writer, you wind through his twisting logic so well that i can really understand why he thinks he is).

he really isn't winning the game, but the trouble is that they're playing different games and he's forgotten what he wanted in the first place. and! thank you, i love unreliable narrators and their winding thoughts that make perfect sense to them.

any, any, “most girls are smart and strong and beautiful”

Most Girls - Hailee Steinfeld

Michelle is sweet and a genius and everyone wants to protect her, Kali is fierce and commanding and powerful, and Carmen is-Carmen, the sun everyone orbits around.

Elijah is there, failing at everything, fading into the background, trying to prove that she really is just as good as they all are by working twice as hard for worse results.

Malkuth knows now that she's not like them or like perfect Angela or like the magnetically dangerous monster on the lower floors-she's simply a defective failure just like Angela tells her, and there's a happiness in accepting that she's just never going to be on their level(of course there is, because she's still smiling).

i don't go here but oh god relatable

Thank you!

Fa Mulan is a Hero of China, a woman with the medal, the sword of Shan-Yu, and the General who had fallen for her first as Ping. She should be satisfied with having achieved more in her life than most men or women. Yet, with each passing day, it becomes clearer to her that she cannot stand as the sole woman who has achieved these things, and so she begins a school to train women who will be smart and strong and beautiful all at the same time, instead of demanding they choose only one and hope they find a match.

yes this omg!

That's so perfect for her!

any, any, “when it hurts this good you gotta play it twice”

Vice - Miranda Lambert

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Page 3 of 57

Three Sentence Ficathon 2022 Part 2

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Lucy, Finding Her Own

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Shmi-focus

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The Vampire Diaries, Damon and Matt

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TW, Stiles & Jackson

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(Can’t Get No) Satisfaction (Greek Mythology, Apollo & Cassandra)

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Marvel MCU (post Civil War), Bucky

Elite, Lu

Obsidian & Blood, Teomitl

Idiomatic (Dal Timgar & Tiger Martin, Star Surgeon)

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汤（团）圆

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King Edmund the Crowfessor

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Obsidian & Blood, Acamapichtli & Acatl/Teomitl

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Down But Not Out (Lethal Weapon (TV), Martin Riggs)

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Practise (Naruto; Rock Lee)

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RWBY, Team JN_R, Big Target