rthstewart | Three Sentence Ficathon

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Three Sentence Ficathon

UPDATE! EDIT!
We're running into the Dreamwidth comment limits so all new prompts should be posted here Keep responding to and filling already posted prompts here, but all new ones should go to the new thread!

Someone did this banner for me a couple of years ago. It's great, isn't it? ~~If it was you, please step up and take a bow!~~
It was

st_aurafina! Thank you again!

caramelsilver ran one last year on Livejournal and I did two over here a few years ago. We'll keep it open until January 31, 2019 which should give everyone time to play a little. This is a delightful part of the online fandom community.

What is the 3 Sentence Ficathon?
This is a challenge where you answer a prompt with a fic consisting of only three sentences. It's open to all fandoms and you can post and answer as many prompts as you like, as many times as you want.

What do I do first?
You post 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."

What else?
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

Can anyone play?
Yes! Please signal boost this to your flist, followers, and any other places you frequent. Come one, come all!
The more people who come and play, the better!

Can I spread the word?
Yes, please. I'd love to create a nifty banner with an embed code but I fail at it. So if you create one, I'll post it and everyone can use it.

How long will it go?
Tentatively, we'll close it on January 31, 2019.

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 warnings, triggers, pairings, ratings, tags, and squick?
I thought about this. It wasn't an issue the last 2 times I ran this but times change. In my experience, this typically gets too big, moves too fast, and the stories are too short for content warnings and ratings. You should assume spoilers are fair game and that the initial poster and responder have opted to use no content warnings or tags. I've found personally that I can skim by stuff that, from the prompt, I can tell isn't my favorite flavor of delicious cake. Use your best judgment and be prepared to skip over things that aren't your thing.

And here, have some icons!

I'll start things off...

Edit to add on 12/18/2018 Please check out this update here. And this friending meme if you're so inclined here.

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Sure, I'm glad you enjoyed it! I really do like that band. :) And the two songs do mesh really well.

This was the first prompt that made me !!!!! on this whole ficathon bc 'Keith, in the desert' was also the first vld thing I ever wanted to write. That being said, I'm cheating! Bc this fill is actually just the first sentences of the Keith fic I've been writing since, oh, season 6. The longer I work on it/sit on it the longer and more unwieldy it gets :/

The sky is red when you walk out of the Garrison the morning after your fight with Iverson, the rising sun slanting in your eyes and your dismissal papers tight in your fist, and you think you've never been happy inside those walls, anyway, not without him.

You walk away from the Garrison without a glance, without a thought, and the sun is warm on your skin.

The desert is immense and it makes you feel small, when you are miles away from the nearest person, the nearest cadet, the nearest instructor who looks at you like your borrowed time has finally run out and they will finally be rid of you, because without Shiro you are nothing, and a simulator score means nothing when the best pilot in the Garrison and his crew are dead. It makes you feel small, and unimportant, and for once that is a comfort: That you can exist without their prying eyes and the expectations you could never live up to, that you can be free here—free to grieve and to rage and to lose yourself, free to become something else.

Thank you.

Thank you~ I'm glad you liked it. (I actually had the Earth from another fandom in mind when I wrote this, where it has been ravaged and nearly destroyed, inhospitable to any kind of life, but flowers are beginning to cover the surface again after.)

Oh, this is beautiful but so painful too, feels like in a quietly inevitable sort of way. And the way Hades and Persephone handle the pain of it differently because it's their bailiwick already. . .

yay, i'm so glad!!

I took my time figuring out which Kith each would be -- ros could have been a Nocker because he's always inventing things by doing practical experiments, but he doesn't complain when it doesn't work, even when guil criticizes him, so that was right out. and guil might have been a Satyr if you take his singleminded efforts to unravel their situation as a sort of passion (and i just looked it up and they're about philosophy and wisdom just as much as lust, so i wasn't too far off!)

Hamlet is a Sidhe, obviously; Horatio is a Troll because of the loyalty and chivalry; the Tragedian is an Eshu

Thank you! I had more of a feeling than an idea with this one.

Even if she does wind up happy with her marriage and has always loved her duties, she really got stuck in this whole mess. :/ It's got to sting, and possibly even more that I could see people being surprised that she is getting angry.

Black Sails, any, internet piracy

Thanks, I'm glad you liked it!

This is pushing the bounds of the three sentence fic...but it is, technically, three sentences!

Warning for: descriptions of Lonnie's bullshit.

He doesn’t glower and menace, issue empty threats that sometimes, when you least expect it, turn out to be full of substance; doesn’t scream and punch (except for that one time, and yeah, it felt really good, until it didn't); doesn’t drink himself into a stupor and forget where he’s left his car, force Nancy to drive him all around town looking for it while he complains that it’s all her fault for being a ball busting nag and hanging up on him when he called last night to ask for a ride.

He doesn’t let himself be embarrassed that he likes the things he likes, and none of them are within the parameters of what’s acceptable in Hawkins, Indiana circa 1985; doesn’t sneer and mock, make oh-so-subtle remarks about fairy wings and painted nails; doesn’t let himself be intimidated (except for those times when he is, less than he used to be, still more than he’d like) by boys that are bigger and stronger than him and looking to make themselves feel better, if only in the moment.

But hiding: behind a studiously blank face, a flop of hair, a mumbled answer, ever shifting eyes that are always focused on a point just to the right or left of whoever’s talking to them; and disappearing: into music or drawing or books or Castle Byers, by taking impulsive, meandering drives to nowhere in particular and - once upon a time, hopefully one day again – lazy, solo bike rides and all day explorations of the woods…they’re still working on those things, probably always will be.

Any, any, "let the law pronounce its petty assertions, they've been outsmarted by a couple of urchins"

". . .how angry should I be?" Madara said with surprising restraint, though he was tense, even his hair seemingly fluffed up with it, to Tobirama's amusement.

Tobirama reached up and wiped his cheek, nose wrinkling at the feel of sticky drying blood smearing over his skin. "It was a mess," Tobirama allowed, moving towards his lover with a smile tugging at his lips, "but this mess is mostly theirs."

Thank you!

Aww, ahaha, this is adorable!

Keith doesn't like using the term 'falling in love' when he thinks about his feelings for Shiro, because 'falling' implies an adrenaline rush and uncertainty and maybe even a mistake on your part, perhaps something that you would correct or do over, something to fix. Falling is the drop of a hoverbike against a cliff, failing a jump, crashing, hurt.

Instead, he thinks of it like gravity: once he was around Shiro's orbit, there was no way he wouldn't be attracted to it, even if it was something that started slowly, but there was no falling: there isn't, for him, a clear cut period of time when he can say 'here, Shiro did this and I knew I loved him' because it built over every gesture, every smile, each laugh they shared until it wasn't a fall at all, nor anything shocking, but the natural conclusion of something unavoidable: Keith walked into love with Shiro, and, as anything related to Shiro, even when knowing that his feelings are and always will be one sided, there is no hurt.

Perhaps it's selfish to think about it like that, perhaps it's wrong to think of your feelings as 'safe' but that is, really, just one of the many reasons in a very very long list of reasons why Keith doesn't tell Shiro how he feels.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't see you there," Faramir bowed his head politely, "I didn't expect. . . Your siblings are-"

"Out in the training fields?" King Edmund finished, turning to face Faramir with a wry smile. "I prefer. . ." he trailed off, but his smile softened and he stroked a hand over the dusty cover of a thick book on the table beside him. "At least sometimes."

Faramir smiled, relaxing despite himself and moving a little closer. "I, too."

Narnia & Spinning Silver, Jadis & the Staryk King, No sun, no moon, no proper time of year

Spinning Silver, the unnamed quick-thinking maidservant at the end, a fire on the hearth

"Ah. . . Mary?"

Mary closed her eyes for a moment - she had been out of the room for less than two minutes - and pulled down the tray she had been looking for, then hurried back into the kitchen to see what her boys had done.

She stopped in the doorway, eyes wide, as they both smiled winningly at her - Jung In was covered in confectioner's sugar and held a plate of cookies, half of them broken or crumbling; Mu Gyul had somehow gotten blue icing in his hair - she doubted he had noticed yet - and was sucking a smear of green icing off his fingers, holding a cookie that was more icing than cookie in his other hand.

A series of insistent calls punctuated by plinking sounds on the wall or shutters finally dragged first Temari - all prickles and glares - and then all three of them not only out of bed but out onto the balcony.

"What do you morons wa-" Temari broke off and Gaara hardly heard her, inching a little further out onto the balcony with wide eyes as he shuffled through the cold white layer of not-sand, then raised his head to look at the swirls of it dancing lightly through the air as they fell.

"Fuck it's cold," Kankurou whined, yanking the blanket he'd brought with him tighter around himself, "did you guys wake us up because of the snow?"

Any, any, you like me most when I'm least like you

Very nice! (sjnt, not logged in)

This is adorable. I love the little touches in their characterizations (Temari "all prickles and glares"! Gaara's wide-eyed staring at the snow! The older sibs' language! Kankurou taking a blanket with him!), as well as the idea of Konoha-nin wanting the Sand sibs to see the snow. D'awwwww.

The red circles of the poppies seep across the fields like the bloom of her blood when he thrust into her for the first time, her futile screams echoing off fathoms of lightless stone. The petals of the asters and chrysanthema recall the ragged flesh of her nailbeds as she sought in vain to dig her way back to her Mother; the cardinal-flowers and anthuria drip like tears of blood; the bee-balm shoots up a dozen little arms waving for help in vain.

For the final time she turns her heel on a world whose very rebirth makes sport of her agony.

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Page 155 of 202

Three Sentence Ficathon

Re: Goodbye at Avalon (Merlin (BBC)-ish)

no subject

Re: Last Spring

Re: Last Spring

no subject

no subject

Re: Death of Spring

Re: Caught

no subject

Re: There's a lake I know

no subject

no subject

Messy Aftermath (Naruto; MadaTobi)

Re: Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles (Future John and Cameron)

Re: Original, superhero/supervillain

no subject

In the Library

no subject

no subject

Sugared Disaster (Mary Stayed Out All Night)

Winter in Konoha (Naruto; Sand Siblings)

no subject

Re: The Adventures of Brisco County, Jr.

Re: Winter in Konoha (Naruto; Sand Siblings)

tw rape, blood, injury