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edenfallingBatch the fifth, more to come. :)
All prompts drawn from the 2022 iteration of the Three Sentence Ficathon (post one and post two), hosted by the wonderfulrthstewart. Come play with us!
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25. Forgold_pen_leaps, in response to the prompt: The Magnus Archives, any, voyeuristic of you, written 2/1/22
Watch and Wait (280 words)
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The thing is, and Sasha still has no idea how to bring this up with Tim, she's not really that into sex -- or at least not sex that involves someone else touching her body. Yes, there's an element of interest in not knowing exactly how the other person will touch her clit or thrust inside her or stroke her side or pinch her nipple or whatever other act may or may not be on the table, but honestly, she can manage the physical stimulation fine on her own, and being tangled up so close makes it hard to see. Physical stimulation is only half the story, after all -- the brain is the biggest sex organ in the body, as the saying goes -- and she needs mental stimulation to properly get going.
So yes, she had sex with Tim and it was all right. She likes Tim a lot. He's good with his hands, he's very appealing to look at, and he's fun to listen to. But she doesn't want to have sex with him again. She wants to watch him have sex with someone else while she sits on a sofa with a vibe and some lube and gets herself off.
And that is an awkward and scary conversation to have with anyone, let alone somebody you have to face at work five days a week, so she's been putting it off and putting it off and putting it off some more.
As she flees into Artefact Storage, Sasha thinks that when this catastrophe is over, she's going to tell him and damn the consequences. After all, what could possibly be worse than almost getting eaten alive by supernatural worms?
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26. Forgold_pen_leaps, in response to the prompt: any, any, became a sommelier for charity, written 2/1/22
Gala Night (160 words)
Fandom = Greenwing & Dart
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"Explain to me again how this farce is meant to aid the poor of Orio City?" I hissed into Hal's ear as I passed, a silver pail filled with snow and three bottles of an inordinately expensive white clutched in my gloved hands.
Hal bowed (somewhat ironically, I could tell by the set of his shoulders, though I doubted anyone who hadn't roomed with him for years could see through his earnest facade) to the latest group of notables who had stopped to twitter around him at the host's podium when they entered the repurposed ballroom, and delivered them courteously into the hands of another young gentleman who was playing at wait staff.
"Because sometimes the best way to pry money from tight pockets is to make the people attached to those pockets feel indulged and superior," he murmured, "and what better way to accomplish that than to have fellow aristocrats wait on them hand and foot for a night?"
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27. Forcornerofmadness, in response to the prompt any, any Girls Just Want To Have Fun, written 2/8/22.
A Spoonful of Sugar (185 words)
Fandom = The Magnus Archives
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"Are you sure you don't want to spend the afternoon in my corridors?" the Distortion asks in Helen's best reasonable-friend voice; "I promise I'm an excellent listener if you want to shout, you can't hurt anything if you want to kick my walls or shred the wallpaper, and I have a nice variety of ice cream for winding down afterwards."
For a moment, Melanie looks genuinely tempted.
"Ah well, maybe some other day," the Distortion says in response to Melanie's eventual headshake of refusal, because patience is a virtue and a well-seasoned meal is always more filling.
She can wait while the sharp, pulsing song of the Slaughter continues to strengthen in Melanie's bones (her fierce denial of any outside, unnatural influence, no matter how clear the line from war ghosts to phantom bullets to the ability to harm creatures of the Flesh, makes such tasty, twisty echoes), and then wait some more while Melanie's incandescent fury adds spice to the terror of other victims wandering Helen's guts.
When the Distortion swallows Melanie for keeps, her screams of betrayal will be delicious beyond human words.
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28. Forswirlsngirls, in response to the prompt Any, any, sophisticated, manipulated, written 2/8/22.
Two-Step (235 words)
Fandom = Greenwing & Dart
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The first trick to manipulating Lark is to keep all the important actions just beneath her sight, where she doesn't even realize something might exist to overlook: for example, it was obvious to anyone paying the slightest bit of attention that Jemis's final paper must be nonsensical -- he was flying so high in the penultimate stages of wireweed addiction that any coherence was the next best thing to a miracle -- so hiding his insight into the relationship between Ariadne nev Lingarel's poem and a guide to Orio City's famously impregnable prison was easy as making a snide remark about Jemis's fixation on yet another treasonous minor historical poet and laughing at Lark's answering jape.
The second trick is to eschew complicated plots: even if Lark suspects Violet's impending betrayal (and with her sophisticated eye for clothes, she cannot have missed the declaration in Violet's color choices during Lark's carefully scripted audience with Jemis and his friends), she would expect Violet to disclaim that declaration as a way to toy with Jemis, suborn a guard or find a mage to whisk him out of the prison, and then play cat-and-mouse through the fog and the foulness of Orio City's streets toward a well-disguised ship in the harbor.
Instead, Violet steps through the mirror into the inescapable prison, secure in the knowledge that even should she live a thousand years, Lark will never understand what just happened.
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29. Forswirlsngirls, in response to the prompt Any, any, set a fire in my head tonight, written 2/8/22.
Not Wholly Unwilling (155 words)
Fandom = Greenwing & Dart
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"Unlace me," Lark commanded, and as I obediently began undoing her stays, she turned her head to favor me with an assessing gaze that lingered over both the bruise blooming plum-dark around the raw and oozing scrape across my cheek, and the new-grown swell of my breasts beneath my plainer bodice; there was something satiated in her eyes, like a cat well-fed and pleased to toy with mice, and under that a swell of renewing hunger.
"Face the wall," she commanded when I had finished and the shoulders of her dress fell loose down the deceptive softness of her upper arms; I turned, silent, and let her unlace my dress in turn.
As she pulled me to her bed, she kissed the bloody wound her own hand and rings had made, kindled a throb of pain and desire, and the part I will never tell a living soul is that I fell willingly to flame.
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30. Fortopaz_eyes, in response to the prompt: Any, any, the skin around every city looks the same, written 2/8/22
And Taxes (180 words)
Fandom = The Hands of the Emperor
-----
Every city is fundamentally the same upon approach: wilderness and pastures give way to grain fields and tended forests, which give way to market gardens and little blots of houses, which give way to walls and narrow streets and buildings reaching skyward for lack of space to sprawl. People need food and fuel, and transportation is expensive; these concentric rings are the inevitable collision of those truths, with only occasional exceptions for fishing fleets or long-distance water-based grain trade.
Cliopher rides into Astandalas the Golden in the back of a vegetable wagon magically sped along the imperial highway from a hundred miles away, and doubts the evidence of his own eyes when he sees the sharp delineation between the city of roses and the gorgeous, wasteful, parks outside its walls. The power to shape an entire region to serve aesthetic whims rather than human needs is earthshaking, and the mindset that would make that trade is beyond his comprehension.
Of course the Empire fell. No society can balance on such a narrow edge forever; one day, the debt comes due.
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---------------------------------------------
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When I see an 'any' fandom prompt, I ask myself, "Can I make this about Greenwing & Dart?" The answer is generally, "Yes." :D
All prompts drawn from the 2022 iteration of the Three Sentence Ficathon (post one and post two), hosted by the wonderful
rthstewart. Come play with us!---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------
25. For
gold_pen_leaps, in response to the prompt: The Magnus Archives, any, voyeuristic of you, written 2/1/22Watch and Wait (280 words)
-----
The thing is, and Sasha still has no idea how to bring this up with Tim, she's not really that into sex -- or at least not sex that involves someone else touching her body. Yes, there's an element of interest in not knowing exactly how the other person will touch her clit or thrust inside her or stroke her side or pinch her nipple or whatever other act may or may not be on the table, but honestly, she can manage the physical stimulation fine on her own, and being tangled up so close makes it hard to see. Physical stimulation is only half the story, after all -- the brain is the biggest sex organ in the body, as the saying goes -- and she needs mental stimulation to properly get going.
So yes, she had sex with Tim and it was all right. She likes Tim a lot. He's good with his hands, he's very appealing to look at, and he's fun to listen to. But she doesn't want to have sex with him again. She wants to watch him have sex with someone else while she sits on a sofa with a vibe and some lube and gets herself off.
And that is an awkward and scary conversation to have with anyone, let alone somebody you have to face at work five days a week, so she's been putting it off and putting it off and putting it off some more.
As she flees into Artefact Storage, Sasha thinks that when this catastrophe is over, she's going to tell him and damn the consequences. After all, what could possibly be worse than almost getting eaten alive by supernatural worms?
---------------
---------------
26. For
gold_pen_leaps, in response to the prompt: any, any, became a sommelier for charity, written 2/1/22Gala Night (160 words)
Fandom = Greenwing & Dart
-----
"Explain to me again how this farce is meant to aid the poor of Orio City?" I hissed into Hal's ear as I passed, a silver pail filled with snow and three bottles of an inordinately expensive white clutched in my gloved hands.
Hal bowed (somewhat ironically, I could tell by the set of his shoulders, though I doubted anyone who hadn't roomed with him for years could see through his earnest facade) to the latest group of notables who had stopped to twitter around him at the host's podium when they entered the repurposed ballroom, and delivered them courteously into the hands of another young gentleman who was playing at wait staff.
"Because sometimes the best way to pry money from tight pockets is to make the people attached to those pockets feel indulged and superior," he murmured, "and what better way to accomplish that than to have fellow aristocrats wait on them hand and foot for a night?"
---------------
---------------
27. For
cornerofmadness, in response to the prompt any, any Girls Just Want To Have Fun, written 2/8/22.A Spoonful of Sugar (185 words)
Fandom = The Magnus Archives
-----
"Are you sure you don't want to spend the afternoon in my corridors?" the Distortion asks in Helen's best reasonable-friend voice; "I promise I'm an excellent listener if you want to shout, you can't hurt anything if you want to kick my walls or shred the wallpaper, and I have a nice variety of ice cream for winding down afterwards."
For a moment, Melanie looks genuinely tempted.
"Ah well, maybe some other day," the Distortion says in response to Melanie's eventual headshake of refusal, because patience is a virtue and a well-seasoned meal is always more filling.
She can wait while the sharp, pulsing song of the Slaughter continues to strengthen in Melanie's bones (her fierce denial of any outside, unnatural influence, no matter how clear the line from war ghosts to phantom bullets to the ability to harm creatures of the Flesh, makes such tasty, twisty echoes), and then wait some more while Melanie's incandescent fury adds spice to the terror of other victims wandering Helen's guts.
When the Distortion swallows Melanie for keeps, her screams of betrayal will be delicious beyond human words.
---------------
---------------
28. For
swirlsngirls, in response to the prompt Any, any, sophisticated, manipulated, written 2/8/22.Two-Step (235 words)
Fandom = Greenwing & Dart
-----
The first trick to manipulating Lark is to keep all the important actions just beneath her sight, where she doesn't even realize something might exist to overlook: for example, it was obvious to anyone paying the slightest bit of attention that Jemis's final paper must be nonsensical -- he was flying so high in the penultimate stages of wireweed addiction that any coherence was the next best thing to a miracle -- so hiding his insight into the relationship between Ariadne nev Lingarel's poem and a guide to Orio City's famously impregnable prison was easy as making a snide remark about Jemis's fixation on yet another treasonous minor historical poet and laughing at Lark's answering jape.
The second trick is to eschew complicated plots: even if Lark suspects Violet's impending betrayal (and with her sophisticated eye for clothes, she cannot have missed the declaration in Violet's color choices during Lark's carefully scripted audience with Jemis and his friends), she would expect Violet to disclaim that declaration as a way to toy with Jemis, suborn a guard or find a mage to whisk him out of the prison, and then play cat-and-mouse through the fog and the foulness of Orio City's streets toward a well-disguised ship in the harbor.
Instead, Violet steps through the mirror into the inescapable prison, secure in the knowledge that even should she live a thousand years, Lark will never understand what just happened.
---------------
---------------
29. For
swirlsngirls, in response to the prompt Any, any, set a fire in my head tonight, written 2/8/22.Not Wholly Unwilling (155 words)
Fandom = Greenwing & Dart
-----
"Unlace me," Lark commanded, and as I obediently began undoing her stays, she turned her head to favor me with an assessing gaze that lingered over both the bruise blooming plum-dark around the raw and oozing scrape across my cheek, and the new-grown swell of my breasts beneath my plainer bodice; there was something satiated in her eyes, like a cat well-fed and pleased to toy with mice, and under that a swell of renewing hunger.
"Face the wall," she commanded when I had finished and the shoulders of her dress fell loose down the deceptive softness of her upper arms; I turned, silent, and let her unlace my dress in turn.
As she pulled me to her bed, she kissed the bloody wound her own hand and rings had made, kindled a throb of pain and desire, and the part I will never tell a living soul is that I fell willingly to flame.
---------------
---------------
30. For
topaz_eyes, in response to the prompt: Any, any, the skin around every city looks the same, written 2/8/22And Taxes (180 words)
Fandom = The Hands of the Emperor
-----
Every city is fundamentally the same upon approach: wilderness and pastures give way to grain fields and tended forests, which give way to market gardens and little blots of houses, which give way to walls and narrow streets and buildings reaching skyward for lack of space to sprawl. People need food and fuel, and transportation is expensive; these concentric rings are the inevitable collision of those truths, with only occasional exceptions for fishing fleets or long-distance water-based grain trade.
Cliopher rides into Astandalas the Golden in the back of a vegetable wagon magically sped along the imperial highway from a hundred miles away, and doubts the evidence of his own eyes when he sees the sharp delineation between the city of roses and the gorgeous, wasteful, parks outside its walls. The power to shape an entire region to serve aesthetic whims rather than human needs is earthshaking, and the mindset that would make that trade is beyond his comprehension.
Of course the Empire fell. No society can balance on such a narrow edge forever; one day, the debt comes due.
---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------
When I see an 'any' fandom prompt, I ask myself, "Can I make this about Greenwing & Dart?" The answer is generally, "Yes." :D
