#three line fic

[plotarcade]

Microfiction in 3 Lines

“she woke up stronger than she’d ever felt. it was her 25th birthday— the day her winter magic finally answered her.”

[arse-blathanna]

i know you don't really ship it but ozcinder & reincarnation au?

Ozpin didn’t know how many times the two of them had faced each other on a battlefield as they did now. Salem was gone, and Cinder had taken her place, carrying on an immortal fight that was never going to end. Surely, one of them would fall that day.

“I see you’ve found me again.” Ozpin said, standing up and turning around to face the woman properly. She just stared back at him, with burning eyes that were filled with vengence. “What’ll it be this time, work or pleasure.”

A smirk formed at the edge of Cinder’s lips as she set her bow down on the ground in front of her before taking a step back. “This time around?” She replied. “Both.”

[feelskabuki-blog]

Hannibal, but instead of being named Hannibal he's actually named "Banannibal"

Banannibal baked - he could run a patisserie from his office, it had been commented, with a small cake stand on the reception desk. “I call this Banannibal Bread,” he presented a slice to Will in their next session, the plate decorated with dried fruit chips and a lashing of syrup over the top. Will sunk his fork into it with a faint smile on his lips, deciding against pointing out the strangely fingernail-like chip hiding in the bread.

[feelskabuki-blog]

clapham - handsprints on a window

the bus window; a smiley Chinese boy, three years old and rosy cheeked from the November wind, waving vigorously at Yessu as the number 29 drove past him (he missed it by thirty seconds, jogging bottoms halfway down his backside as he returns the wave, watching little fingers press to the glass).

the kitchen window; Fia dusts, absentmindedly as the radio (tuned to a foreign station) plays a snatch of her brother’s music, she almost misses the smudge above the sink that blurs her view of the housing estate below - a pang shoots through her, when the hand print is far too small to be her own.

the shop window; it’s raining, and the mark is not his own, but Allen stares through it aimlessly, a streaky view before him of softer beings floating around the store’s insides (he longs to join them, but Aaron’s face moves among the closest group, upturned to talk soundlessly to an employee, and he turns himself away).

[feelskabuki-blog]

A cold, lonely night in Clapham.

soft breathing beside him keeps him awake, and gavril stares at the curtains, the blankets bringing him no warmth or comfort in the dying minutes of the day, scrunched about his cold skin. the street outside is icy, a silvery path pushing yessu away from the house (again) to spend his post-shift daze away from home (again) so he doesn’t have to face gavril in the red of tomorrow’s dawn. he texts, fingers numb in the night air, but gavril doesn’t pick up the glowing screen, a lump in his throat as he turns to the wall.

[feelskabuki-blog]

Prompt: Hannibal trying to show Will his favourite anime but Will not being all that into it.

will no :( dont be mean to him

--

“I’m sorry, Hannibal,” Will’s head leans back against the cushions of the couch, exhaling softly as he ignores the squawk of the voices on the television, “I’m just not really a fan.” Hannibal’s eyes are strangely pleading as his hand settles over Will’s, his free hand swapping the remote (he had just upped the volume) for a bottle of wine. “Will, please, I beg you,” he tops up Will’s glass, as a clown-like man struts across the screen, staring rather unnervingly at the behinds of his companions, “just one more episode?”

[feelskabuki-blog]

any AU ya like, clapham ofc... with the lyric prompt of "i would go out tonight, but i haven't got a stitch to wear / this man said, it's gruesome, that someone so handsome should care"

ooh....ohhh......

--

The moon is soft behind the clouds as it rises, and Gavril is insistent, scratching at himself as he nudges Yessir outside, ignoring Yessir’s protesting growls. Their flesh seems to dissolve as their bodies twist and crack, fur crawling over their skin as they transform - they should be inside, Yessir argues, even as his hands hit the ground as paws, they’re not safe out here (he feels naked outside even with thick fluff ringing his neck, with a tail between his legs, the warmth of a howl sitting deep in his chest). Gavril just nips at him playfully, racing him out the garden gate to dig up next door’s roses, nose still flecked with dirt when he comes back to Yessir and woofs quietly into his neck fur - soft assurances that they’re fine! They’re safe out here! (That Yessir is so pretty!) as he chews at Yessir’s long ears in the moonlight.

[feelskabuki-blog]

"the city is ours" promot anything B)

Three in the morning flies past, like litter skittering through the gutter outside the nightclub they finally spill out of, loud enough to disturb an owl that has settled on a lamp post. It turns amber eyes onto the group as Yessu produces two shot glasses that he pocketed inside, a rousing cheer ushering the group further down the pavement towards a kebab stand. They lean on each other, laughter rippling through them as they wander, immune to the cold and eyes of solitary strangers and the shadows, the light in each other’s smiles keeping them warm.