rthstewart | Three Sentence Ficathon 2021

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Three Sentence Ficathon 2021

We have now opened a new post, for new prompts! Please leave all new prompts there. You may continue to fill existing prompts here. If you didn't get a prompt filled here, feel free to post it on the new post!

Welcome to the Three Sentence Ficathon!
2 Feb. 2021 See important edit below regarding where to find unfilled prompts.

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

What do I do first?
You can start 3SF by posting 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."

Open ended and anthropomorphic fills are popular too, such as:

Any, Any, "I don't like sand."

or

Earth geography, sand, "I don't like humans very much, either."

What happens after that?
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

I'm really overwhelmed by all the prompts and how much there is and how fast it goes. I can't read 1,000 prompts and fills. It's too much.
I hear this a lot and it keeps a lot of people from participating. The 3SF is big and it moves fast, especially at first. I get overwhelmed, too, and I'm hosting the thing. With 2020 and 2021 sucking so badly you don't want something that's supposed to be fun cause you anxiety. I have a couple of suggestions for managing the 3SF volume.

First, really, you don't have to read every prompt and fill on every page. You can start at the last page of this and just go forward, or back a page or two. It's fine.
You can come and go as time and energy allow, you don't have to participate the whole time, and it drops off quite a bit by mid-February.
Even after the 3SF and new prompting end, people fill prompts all year long.
You can fill an already filled prompt and you can can leave a prompt that's already been prompted before. People do it all the time.

Always make sure you're looking at top-level comments only, not threaded. That helps a lot. Your screen should look like this.

But shouldn't I read everything to see if someone already prompted the same prompt I want to leave if someone already filled it?
No. Prompt as many times as you want, as much as you want. It doesn't matter if someone prompted the exact same prompt. Go ahead and prompt again!

I left a prompt and no one filled it. Can I prompt it again?
Absolutely!

Can I spread the word?
Yes, please. I generally fail at creating banners and embed codes but if you create one and make it really idiot-proof, I might be able to post and share it. Feel free to cross-post this entry. If you create your own banners or icons, let me know and I'll share!
Please share the 3SF with your followers, friends, and any channels and comms you are active on. I'll post on fandom calendar, Tumblr, and Twitter, but I don't have many connections in other spaces such as Discord.

How long will it go?
The 3SF closes to new prompts on February 28, 2021. The entry stays open permanently and people post fills all year long.

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 and archive warnings, triggers, pairings, ratings, tags, and squick?

I thought a lot about this. It boils down to reader beware. In my experience, this typically gets too big, moves too fast, and the stories are too short for content warnings and ratings to even apply. It is too big for me to moderate in this way. You should assume spoilers are fair game and that the initial poster and the responder have opted to use no content warnings or tags. This means AO3 content warnings for dubcon, violence, canon character death, underage, etc. COULD be present. I've found personally that I can skim and scroll 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. In this format, the obligation is on you, the reader, to protect yourself from triggering content.
Some posters do include warnings and spoiler tags in subject lines or include spoiler space, but they don't have to do so.

Why is 3SF split among several posts? That seems confusing.
It is confusing and we always lose momentum once we have to move to a second post. The reason is because at 5,000 comments to a single post, DW installs a human test CAPTCHA, which is a pain for users. So, once this entry gets to the upper 4,000 comments, I open a new post. If you've been waiting until things slow down to participate, when we open a second post is often a good place to join.

If I have questions, what do I do?
I'm rthstewart everywhere, here, Twitter, Tumblr, gmail and AO3.

A special thank you to

conuly .
Last year, Conuly started logging all unfilled prompts.
This year's (2021) unfilled prompts are here.
Last year's (2020) unfilled prompts are here.

Conuly asks that you not reply, as they want to be able to edit and add more prompts to the list.
Conuly does this just because they are an awesome person but should you want to write them fic in thanks, you can find a birthday wish list here.

Here is the 3SF 2021 Friending Meme to show of your new DW account.

Here, have some icons and banners and let me know if you've created your own!

text box you can try to cut and paste

<a href="https://rthstewart.dreamwidth.org/166704.html" _fcksavedurl="https://rthstewart.dreamwidth.org/166704.html" _fcksavedurl="https://rthstewart.dreamwidth.org/166704.html" _fcksavedurl="https://rthstewart.dreamwidth.org/166704.html" target="_blank"><img src=" https://imgur.com/f3B21LX.png?2" _fcksavedurl=" https://imgur.com/f3B21LX.png?2" _fcksavedurl=" https://imgur.com/f3B21LX?2" _fcksavedurl=" https://imgur.com/f3B21LX.png?2" alt="" /></a>

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

"Now," said Vetinari, his normally icy demeanor thawed somewhat by the three-pronged attack of Lady Sybil's genuine cheer, the expertly brewed tea, and the gouts of flame emanating from the sickly green swamp dragon she had in one arm, largely faced away from the two of them, "I do believe I recall you mentioning a rather promising clutch of Quirmian Blue's, yes, and yet I do believe that is a Gormless Wobbler."

"Yes, yes," said the Lady Sybil, nodding as she gently patted the creature on the back of it's rather lumpy back, rather as one might burp a baby, "but I'm afraid that in the process, one of my breeding stock has grown most remarkably ill; Gronkin's disease, quite treatable, yet not always survivable."

"I do believe I've heard of that one," said Vetinari, calmly taking a sip of his tea, not letting even a trace of worry show on his face, "that is the one that makes them explode, yes?"

Creating the Black Mages was an achievement of medical, magical, and engineering genius. Not only were they living, breathing bodies capable of casting spells and basic problem solving, but they could be mass produced from cheap materials. Then, because they cost much less to create than maintain, they would naturally expire in under a year if left alone. The perfect soldiers, readymade to absorb the damage in the front lines, keeping the bulk of the army safer and ready to secure newly gained territory. More soldiers could be returned home alive and whole, less expenses to the crown since the mages didn't need space or light or recreation and, being disposable, ate far less.

The culmination of several years' work, for Kuja didn't have to just recreate a body, but to do so with the limited Gaian technology. To be disposable. At cost. Years of trying to recreate the much more complex and delicate Terran machines, a feat akin to making an airship with a few planks and a stretch of fabric. So many times Kuja ended up with horrific messes of flesh inside the clothes, and he'd have to do yet another postmortem to see what went wrong this time.

Finally he had the plans, the means, the distribution, and all was going smoothly as each bundled figure with flat, empty eyes was made with a steam of Mist. Using the Iifa Tree's waste product as the main ingredient was a stroke of brilliance. Filled with just enough soul scraps to move under their own power, the mages were perfect obedience automatons, a general's dream.

The damn things were never supposed to gain real souls.

Back to the drafting board. Recalculations to his plan had to be made.

since kuja can take a megaflare to the face im picturing eiko using him as a meat shield.

omg. now im picturing them playig fortnite together, or minecraft. i just need queen garnet in a headset like yesterday.

sure is! poor guy. my favorite is when luna gets to tease him bc she can have a normal ish sibling relationship as a treat.

abso fucking lutely. kuja looks like the first theater kid but then has an engineering or business degree (or both!) i really love all three of the tribal sibs, i think they'd have such a fun dynamic. im picturing zidane trying to teach mikoto what a "prank" is by replacing the sugar with salt in kujas tea. things go off script as kuja drinks the whole thing without flinching. prank wars begin.

The job is clean, precise, and surgical, just like it always is, yet this time, even as the money is wired to his account, 47 finds himself altogether more pleased by the heft of the weapon in his hand; the way it swings, whiplashes, slaps heavily into the skull of a target (and then does so again to secure the kill), not to mention the way it shimmers with that mesmerizing metallic glitter.

"Excellent work, 47," comes Diana's voice in his earpiece, "I recommend disposing of the murder weapon in the bay, and then moving towards the extraction point."

"No," he says, making straight for the extraction point, gloved fingers tightening a bit around the fresh, cold mackerel in his hand, "I think I'm keeping this one."

Thanks!

🖤 I like to think so~

Without love it cannot be ‘seen,’ but with love it cannot be hidden even when his eyes are shut. “There, now, Battler-sama, have you figured out who I am yet?”

“Yes,” he breathes, “and it means that we are equals with no titles to separate us, and we can even do away with names if those are what cause you such pain.”

Thank you~

ahhhh, this is terrific! you got lombard's and vera's different strains of sarcasm exactly right. omg, i love it so much.

Henry was not one to hold grudges, not really. In some ways, this would make Henry a poor dark mage if they didn't already have enough negative emotions swirling through their body. In more important ways, it keeps Henry from being tied down to any one hurt, like so much blood off a duck's back. Wrongs were dealt with in the moment, if ever, and then Henry moved on.

Henry had to move on a lot.

Joining the Shepherds marked the fourth great transition in their life, after losing Mama to arrows, graduating from wizard school (to immediately join the army), and losing the only man like a father Henry had. They didn't want to leave, at first, but what choice? Mustafa was dead, for many who didn't deserve his sacrifice, and Henry lashed out. Even in wartime humans despised those who turned on their own side.

So Henry didn't have plans after that, aside from the only thing they'd been good at. A killer was only needed in a war, and the war would end if Ylisse didn't get aid and fast.

(Henry never liked having plans for the future, not after Mama died. Not after they were locked in a prison for the unwanted and unmissed, taught and tormented in turn to spit out what remained as dark mages)

Now the war was ended, with most of the army paired up neatly like birds in a nest to go make eggs. There were plans made, promises to visit, to celebrate, invitations. There weren't many extended to Henry, who laughed too often at others' misfortune to make the sort of friends who wanted you to see a new baby.

There was no reason for them to stay. There was no reason not to move on.

Grudges Henry may not hold, but few emotions brewed into dark magic as beautifully as bitterness. Henry held it in their heart like a mouthful of ale, tasting the astringent flavor until the buzz was needed. They wandered, for a while, earning traveling money by casting some useful hexes, or putting on shows with "tame" animals. The bitterness Henry spat into cursing cows with twin heifers, killing colds, and many hexes for restful sleep for a hospital.

Still, eventually.... Henry didn't really have a reason to stay in human company. Wasn't five attempts enough? They gave it the old college try, so enough was enough. Henry put on one last performance before gathering supplies and heading into some nice sparse mountains, lush with growth and teeming with friends.

Every forest could use a cabin in the woods, and every mountain could use a witch.

"I can give you the crown you deserve," his elder sister says.

Teomitl thinks of their brother on the throne, twisted and craven; he is no fit warrior, no fit Emperor, no fit conduit of Huitzilopochtli's power in the Fifth World, but to slay him and take the crown by force of arms would be treason, would no doubt sever the ties between Teomitl and the people who, somehow, love him.

But if he doesn't, Tizoc will twist and twist until he tears the Empire apart, and Teomitl's loved ones will not be alive to hate him...so he meets his sister's eyes, and nods his assent.

The only way to survive in this world of scavengers and hunters is to disguise oneself as one of them, so he fields any question tossed his way with embellished details gleaned from a recently-skimmed travel article.

The panther leaps: “I can promise you that Mr. Davis here has never set foot in South Africa, nor touched a diamond. Isn’t that right?” Lombard presses, teeth sharper than any human’s has a right to be.

Oh, delightful! A foolish ambassador indeed.

Oh, this is lovely and sad.

“Oh, thou vile king,” Laertes snarled, meaning every word, “give me my father!”

It was as palpable as cursed hebenon that this furious young man was just a boy who missed his dad, and suddenly Claudius wanted nothing more than to channel all that sorrow and rage into something truly divine.

“Let me take you to my bed, that I may commune with your grief,” he urged, fingers tapping enticingly on his tumbler, and after a long deliberation, the noble youth nodded.

The Black Fang did not allow people like them to love and be loved, and anything he promised would be a lie, but when Legault drew his blade across her throat, the contact of their eyes says enough about what was never said. Perhaps this is why he says just as little to Heath, sideways words and a tango around what they both mean. It rings his heart, though, a track worn around it, I won't drag you down with me this time.

Edited 2021-02-04 07:16 (UTC)

“Really, Your Grace, I insist, you should go first - you are the High King, after all.”

Peter eyes the man beside him, stiff and straight-backed, looking like his heavy furs dropped the weight of the world on his shoulders, all stark black, from hair to clothing to boots, the only relief the white pommel of his sword; quite a contrast, Peter thinks ruefully, to his own burnished gold and red and white, to the lightness in his step and the easy languor of his tall frame.

If he hadn’t decided before, he surely has now - this is a man who needs friends if ever he saw one, and Peter, who has always been excellent at making chums, says, “No, please - I may be Narnia’s King, but it’s you who is the King in the North, and as the North is where we are - yours is the precedent,” and gives Jon the most polite of nudges out onto the dais.

Hector, he lies in what he overblows, lies in what he blusters over. Eliwood, he lies in silence and grace, in nobility and finesse. Lyndis lies in how she is there at all, she would say, long after she has left to the singing plains again.

Edited 2021-02-04 07:15 (UTC)

Guy knows well enough a wandering sword is no fit for nobility. Heath knows that his is no life for a fine woman, or anyone, truly. Priscilla knows them both, and swallows what she wants and sets her eyes on what is.

Oh, it hurts good T_T

“I don’t wear red,” Sansa says quietly, but with steel underneath, “or gold - not ever.”

In the act of pulling out a white gown covered in lush, embroidered red roses, Susan pauses, eyeing the frothy golden skirts of the confection that had previously been her second choice; almost, almost, she says something, even opens her mouth to let some nonsense spill out about redheads and red not being such an awful combination, really, before she chances to catch Sansa’s eye; to see the set of her mouth, firm against trembling, the tightness of her jaw, her hands twisted around each other, pale against the deep grey of her skirts.

“Of course,” she says instead, settling the dress back into place with nary a hint of regret, fingers dancing over the rainbow of her wardrobe, “you’re quite right, red is not your color at all, how silly of me - but I’ve always thought blue looked charming on a redhead, don’t you agree?” and the tremulous smile on Sansa’s face is all the answer she could need.

Ah, this is great!

Oh, ouch. I can't imagine any of the few remaining Jedi (or almost-Jedi) would want anything to do with Coruscant at that point. Poor Ahsoka. This is lovely and chilling and just so - resigned. She knows there's evil in the galaxy now, and there's no escaping that.

(not the anon who left the prompt) wow this is amazing! How love how seemlessly you integrated these to worlds, and wow Remy would fit so well in Narnia

Saaad, but also pretty and fittingly lyrical. Tariiiq ;___; All their threads woven into his being...

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Page 100 of 222

Three Sentence Ficathon 2021

Dragons at the table? Wow, rude.

Homunculi Are A Hard Science (Final Fantasy IX, Kuja + Black Mages)

no subject

Hitman: Unorthodox (but canonical) Melee Weapons

Re: Belonging (Labyrinth; Toby & Sarah)

Re: High Priority (Torchwood; Jack/Ianto)

no subject

Re: Trauma and Caution (Beauty and the Beast; Belle/Beast)

no subject

A Gap In History (Fire Emblem: Awakening, Henry)

Obsidian & Blood, Teomitl & Chalchiuhnenetl

no subject

Re: The Queen of Every Beggar’s Son

Re: Fill: lotr, éomer (& any), dealing with a lost horse

Fill: Hamlet

FE7 Legault+Heath (death ment)

Never Thought About Love When I Thought About Home

FE7, Eli+Hec+Lyn

FE7, Guy&Heath + Priscilla

no subject

Filling in the Blanks and Gaps

Re: Wheel of Time - Mat/Aludra

no subject

Re: Uhm...not 3 sentence I guess. Also, rthverse

Re: Fill: Pyre, Tariq