Three Sentence Ficathon
rthstewart's Three Sentence Ficathon is still going on! Leave prompts, make fills, read fic. :D
Things I've written for it so far:
1. The Mandalorian, The Child & Din Djarin, "that's also not a toy."
"Spit it out."
The child stares up at him with wide, uncomprehending eyes. There are a few feathers sticking out of its mouth.
"Spit it out now."
There's a small, high-pitched, oddly dainty cough from the child, and an intact and very startled-looking porg tumbles onto the ground. The porg lays there for a moment, looking stunned, while the child opens its mouth again --
"Nope," Din says, scooping up the kid. "There are better things to eat on the ship." Or at least, things to eat that don't have a few dozen of their relatives staring at you from all around while you eat them.
The porg flutters its tiny wings, manages to get itself upright, and wobbles off.
2. Agent Carter, Dottie Underwood, names
She doesn't really remember her name anymore, the one she was born with. It comes to her sometimes attached to a vague dream of a sad-eyed woman with strawberry blonde hair. She doesn't like those dreams.
What is a name really? Meaningless syllables. You can shed and replace them like clothing.
"Peggy," she murmurs, looking at herself in the mirror, the unfamiliar dark hair and the red hat cocked just so. "Peggy. Peggy. Peggy."
It has a good sound to it.
3. Any, Any, the fancy hats are a vital part of the plan
"This is the worst plan you've ever come up with," Gamora mutters, attempting to adjust the frilly hat sitting uncomfortable and unfamiliar on top of her head. "The literal, actual worst."
"Be silent; it is a very fetching look," Nebula snaps back, adjusting her own hat, which to Gamora's eyes looks like ten standard weight units of flowers and veils that is particularly out of place when contrasted against Nebula's working leathers.
"This is not a good disguise. I think you just wanted to wear the hat."
"Be silent!"
4. Vorkosigan Saga, any, homesick
You can't miss something you've never known, but there are times when Mark misses the idea of home; times when he feels something akin to the hate he once felt for Miles when the topic of Aral and Cordelia and Barrayar comes up and he sees a look on Miles's face that Mark can never relate to. He appreciates Aral and Cordelia, and probably loves them, and he supposes that what he feels for them is at least some shade of what children normally feel for their parents (but how could he possibly know?), and as for Barrayar, the best Mark can say for it is that he doesn't actually feel the need to waste time hating it anymore.
But then there are also those times when he turns his face into the soft crook of Kareen's neck, and he thinks that he might know more than just what home isn't; he might know what it is, too.
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