Another day, another rolled up writing prompt! Hey — are you using these writing prompts? I’d love to read what you’re writing! Tag me on your post or drop it in the comments!

I remembered to roll up a fandom today, which is when I found out that my list didn’t break down to any dice. Now, I take some liberties with these sheets — the dice don’t always roll up correctly (sometimes it says d10 because the max that one type will have is 5 but may only have 2 of other types of cards. So if I roll a 3, it’ll potentially be a 1.)

So I now have 18 fandoms and 2 randomizers. It was strangely hard to come up with 18 fandoms — I consume a ton of media, but not a ton of it comes to mind for fan fiction.

A couple of things of notes with these (a disclaimer for every post):

• I do roll up a word count aspiration, but I am trying not to view myself as a failure if I don’t hit it for some reason.
• These are all one-shots. They’re to get me in the writing headspace, as well as play with some characters I love.
• I do post these on my blog, as well as on AO3, as well as on my Tumblr. So, the off chance you see it somewhere else, that’s why.

Today’s writing prompt is:

A sentry wants to seal the magical realm within a compromised church, but it means giving up their dream.

Here’s today’s rolled up sheet:

Don’t like the prompt? Here’s today’s cards so you can come up with your own, I don’t mind. Let me know what prompt you use and what you wrote!

All right, without further ado, here’s what I came up with from this writing prompt!

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Jamie jerked awake at the sounds of gunfire in the distance. He was on hour thirty-three of guard duty, without sleep. His troops were further down Scotland, about a day’s walk from his post. Not too far, but the distance still caused him concern. He wanted to be in the battle, helping beat back the English to where they belonged.

But Claire had been kidnapped. He prayed the gunshot had nothing to do with her.

Murtagh jumped down from the tree onto his feet silently. “That wasn’t her,” he acknowledged the sounds of battle over the hill.

“You found her?” he asked, trying to keep hope out of his voice. Claire had been missing for two nights now; any other soldier he’d assume dead at this point. Still, his wife had a witchy way of staying alive and ahead of the danger.

“Not yet,” Murtagh replied. “But there’s a church about two hours on feet from here that’s guarded a bit too heavily for just sleeping coverage.”

Jamie tried to stand up, adrenaline coursing through his body. “Does it have the jeweled symbol above the door?” He started buckling up his riding boots, collecting his cloak.

Murtagh held out his hands. “We don’t know she’s there. But I watched the sun hit the jewel at sun set. So if she’s not there, they’ve figured out how to open the stones without her.”

“Claire is there. Get the horses ready.” Jamie saw Murtagh go to protest before adding, “I’m not going to sleep. I can at least conserve energy by using the horses as long as possible.”

Murtagh scratched his beard, irritated. “We can get a little over halfway there before we’d be risking the horses. That’s twenty minutes on the horses and an hour on feet. We’ll have to go slower than my solo trip. Unless you rest for a bit, you’re going to be a loud walking oaf.”

Jamie knew he was right, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. Claire was a risk to him constantly; his life or death situations amplified by her ability to attract trouble. He knew what Murtagh was not saying too: it was time to send Claire back to the future in order to save her. She held his future child too, he knew, though he hadn’t asked her to confirm yet.

And the British were aware of her time traveling abilities. The cult that worshipped the stones had sent their best soldiers to kidnap her, kill her and steal this power.

“I’ll sleep when I have my wife back safely. Let us go.”