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

I LOVE this. I definitely have to read your Witches of Spare Oom! <333 Polly being a witch is the most amazing idea! And I'm already in love with Letty. :)

Old school natural philosophy is WILD. :DDD

cloud is such a jerkass at the start of the game that there is a 0% chance he's not putting on a tough facade. get rid of emotions he cant let people know he FEELS

ngl like a solid third of me writing this was my eternal dissatisfaction that cloud just accepted marlene's tuition money. dont take cash away from kids education dude, cmon. (other thirds are: barret appreciation; the inherent humor in cloud being so easily flustered)

im glad you enjoyed it! the black mages are my absolute favorite

Cora crouched over Lydia and ran a finger up the arm of her cashmere sweater. "You know, the sweater looks good on you."

Lydia raised an eyebrow and smirked. "But you're thinking it would look better on the bedroom floor? What a coincidence, so do I."

Cora suddenly sat back, her cheeks turning red. "That's what I'm supposed to say!"

"Because you're trying to seduce me," Lydia said patiently, "and I’m letting you know that it worked. Do you want to argue about it or do you want to get on to the sex?"

Cora growled and pulled her in for a kiss. Pick-up lines were overrated, anyway.

"You know," Stiles said breathlessly, "if I'd known using magic did it for you, I'd have started studying this shit way sooner."

Derek growled and continued kissing his way up Stiles's neck. "You protecting the pack does it for me."

"Heh, the pack's not the only thing I can protect—actually, scratch that, I don't think that works as a double entendre. Let me—"

Derek groaned and kissed him before he could get distracted.

"So," Matt tapped his Illuminati pin on the top of the table, "remember what you said when we first met, about how you didn't believe in UFOs, Loch Ness, or secret societies?"

Elisa glared at him and took a long drink from her beer. "And your point?"

Matt shrugged, but he was grinning. "I just think it's funny. You know, given that all those things turned out to be real."

Elisa rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, famous last words."

Matt lifted his own bottle. "More like famous first words, I'd say."

Elisa kicked him.

Post-episode tag for s7e12, “Reichenbach Falls.”

With Sherlock’s letter stating his instructions in hand (the paper crumpled and ink more smudged than she cares to admit); with three rolls of black crepe paper in one coat pocket; and with a dispenser of cellophane tape and scissors in the other, Joan steadfastly climbs the stairs to the roof of the brownstone, where the bees have been hibernating in their winterized hives while dreaming of the coming spring.

Sherlock hadn’t had time to deliver a proper goodbye before enacting his solution of last resort with Odin Reichenbach, so he’d simply pressed his missive in her hand just before he walked out of the brownstone to his fateful meeting. On reading it the first time, the morning after they’d confirmed Sherlock was missing and presumed drowned for all intents and purposes, Joan suspected he’d written it awhile ago, in a darker, more desperate time; but its message was still clear, and she was bound by friendship and fealty to deliver it.

She steels herself, then pushes open the top door to the roof and steps outside, shivering a little in the wind; she tugs her beret down over her ears, tightens her coat around her. Following the directions she’d memorized, Joan withdraws the paper, tape, and scissors from her pockets, and begins to festoon the beehive boxes with curls of black crepe that catch and ripple in the breeze. When she finishes, she stands back a moment with her hands in her pockets to admire her handiwork.

She then ponders how to break the news to her tiny, slumbering charges. Sherlock left that task to her; ultimately she decides that directness is always the best approach, with bees as well as humans. She knocks gently on the first hive box standing closest to her, and she swallows as she lays a hand on the side.

“I’m sorry to wake you –” she begins in a whisper.

But the words catch like barbs in her throat, and suddenly it seems so much harder to say this out loud. Speaking it makes his absence real, and she doesn’t know if she can bear to hear herself admit the truth, even if it is only to the sleeping bees.

Yet these are her bees, too. Sherlock had bestowed her name on them: Euglassia watsonia, the species that should not exist yet survives and thrives. They deserve to know the truth going forward; they deserve to hear it from her.

“I’ve come to tell you, I thought you should know,” she starts again, her voice stronger. “Sherlock is gone. He left New York this morning. I don’t know when or if he’ll return.”

She pauses. He may never come back. She wonders if she hears buzzing in the hive, if the bees are indeed stirring, or if it is only in her own ears. Still, she soldiers on.

“Sherlock is gone, but you’re not to worry. My name is Joan. I will take care of you now. I give you my word.”

She’s cared for Sherlock’s bees before, of course, he’d taught her in case he couldn’t be there to do it himself: when he’d moved to London after Mycroft left, when he’d relapsed, while he recovered from post-concussion syndrome. Sherlock had always been a conscientious beekeeper; and he’d always returned, to the bees and to her, no matter how long he stayed away. Until now; Joan had never expected that twice in her life she would become a mother to bees.

Joan repeats the ritual for each box in turn, and her voice does not waver in its message. Instead she finds, to her own surprise, that she feels more at ease, that the words weigh less heavy in her heart every time she speaks them.

And perhaps that was the point: Sherlock’s request was meant as much for her as for the bees.

It strikes Joan that Sherlock has talked to his bees all along: all the hours spent alone on the roof after the beekeeping chores were done, confiding in his bees the secrets that for whatever reason he had not wanted her to be privy to. She wonders what stories these bees would tell if they could talk; but she would not pry, either.

Besides, it would be nice, she thinks, to have confidants going forward these next weeks, months, and years, now that Sherlock is out of reach, possibly forever. Even if they can’t speak to her, they will listen, and that is enough; in the end, they’ll see each other through.

The sun breaks through the clouds, and the breeze stops. Spring’s not far off now, only weeks until the earth greens, the trees flower, and her bees poke their heads out of their hives to begin another year’s work. Before Joan goes back downstairs, she makes these small creatures a promise.

“If – when – Sherlock comes home, I swear you’ll be the first to know.”

*grinning*

also Valeriu's day is about to get a whole lot worse

Thank you!

Oh this is adorable <3

Quina not understanding money is usually seen as reason to mock them, but really They Have A Point...

Great fill, her ferocity is palpable.

Oh my god!! This is amazing and I love everything about it (and thank you for telling me about it, because I would not have wanted to miss this!).
I love how you sketch the scene: you say so much with so few words, immediately I feel like I know Valeriu and his job and surroundings, and I love how this ties in so well with the rest of the universe! (Was the uranium mentioned before in a chapter about Edmund and the black widow, or am I remembering that wrong? Or was it somewhere else, I feel like I've read it before).
I loved the descriptions of Susan and Peter and Edmund: it was immediately clear who they were, yet I can also completely see how Valeriu would mistake them for Russian. I loved the scene with Susan and Tebbitt, it was so visual and dynamic (perfectly clear in my minds eye), and I loved Edmund's line.
What a brilliant way for Susan (and her brothers) to rescue Tebbitt from being captured. Is this sort of an alternate to where Tebbitt is killed, and this is how he's saved? Or is this just an entirely different situation? (since I imagine this would happen more often) Wow, I'm still amazed.

Thank you! Glad you liked!

I feel like a Eustace who had been brought up in Narnia would be more mellow than usual, and if he had been brought up surrounded by an entire court who can ground him, would get into this whole liking/admiring people thing a bit earlier than he does in canon. But still, can’t take the Eustace (and the science!) out of the Eustace. :D

i live to serve ouch moments

Garnet is wondering whether this is all a Big Mistake on her part. XD

Look, this is all VERY IMPORTANT and Zidane has OPINIONS

Cosmo Canyon just feels like a tequila kind of place to me. (Barret's right though tequila is blech)

the real danger of playing BotW isn't Ganon, it's getting desperately hungry for mushroom skewers

:DDD Ironhide is best were-truck!

Sissel's spectral presence sidles into the back of his mind and says, "Hey Jowd, there's no easy way to say this, but - my powers have let me down. I'd appreciate it if you could, uh, bail me out?"

Jowd sets down his teacup, the morning coming into sharper focus at once, the way it does in the moments before crisis - and Sissel says, "I got my body stuck up a tree."

“Are you sure you are a Daughter of Eve?” Mr. Tumnus suddenly asks Lucy, a strange and hesitant look on his face. He’s been studying her since she entered his house, and in the light of the fire there seems to be something… strange about her.
Lucy frowns: “I told you I don’t know what that means, besides- my mother’s name is Helen.”
Mr. Tumnus smiles slightly: “Ah, that’s not- oh never mind,” he shakes his head, but then Lucy hears him mutter to himself: “I’m sure I was mistaken, the light is playing tricks on my eyes.”
He offers her another piece of toast and she soon forgets about the whole exchange, but Tumnus can’t shake his suspicions that there is something decidedly not human about this Daughter of Eve.
…
Susan lies awake, to busy worrying (about Edmund and the Witch and what they are supposed to do in this strange country) to fall asleep, when she overhears Mrs. Beaver and Mr. Beaver have a whispered and tense conversation.
“Did you see it? Did you see their eyes?” Mrs. Beaver’s voice is urgent, almost frightened.
“Yes,” Mr Beaver says solemnly, “I saw it.”
“Do you think..- What do you think-” She trails off, and there is a tense silence.
Susan tries her best to not make a sound: although she doesn’t understand the conversation, she knows she needs to hear more.
Finally Mrs. Beaver says: “You know the prophecy says we need Adam’s flesh and bone for this to work.”
Mr. Beaver sighs: “I’m sure they are, they definitely look it and they claim they are human.”
There is a pause- then: “So does Jadis.”
There is nothing more after that, no matter how long Susan waits, and it is with a strange feeling of doom that she fitfully falls asleep.
…
The Narnians are all happy to see them: they cheer and shout as the siblings walk by, and they are led straight to the largest tent in the camp.
But Peter thinks he sees doubt in some of their eyes – and in others: fear.
…
“What was she like? The Witch?” Lucy’s fearful whisper pierces through the silence of their tent, and Peter and Susan suddenly regard their brother intently.
Edmund hesitates.
“Terrifying,” he finally says, “and powerful, more powerful than anything I’ve ever felt before.”
None of them ask him how he felt this. But later, when they meet her themselves, they know exactly what he meant.
…
“Be welcome, Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve,” Aslan says, and his warm breath envelops them. They smile and rise.
Around them, the Narnians breathe a sigh of relief.
.
.
.
After everything, the Pevensies are crowned to the four thrones of Cair Paravel.
They adapt quickly to Narnia, perhaps too quickly. Untempered by this wild land, their strangeness only increases, and their magic grows. But their rule is Good and Narnia prospers, so any rumors are quickly hushed.

By the time they finally return to England, even shoved back into their old bodies the Four are barely recognizable as human.

Edited 2021-02-13 16:10 (UTC)

Xanatos picked up the folder with the paperwork for the construction site in Arizona and browsed through it, double-checking that everything was in order for his trip down there later this month. Not for the first time, he was glad that Goliath and Elisa were—mostly—MIA, although they were apparently showing up in random places around the globe, as Fox had mentioned running into them in Australia on her latest project. At least there was a reduced risk of them showing up to interfere with this.

Speaking of Fox... he set aside the folder and picked up a catalog he'd had Owen grab on his last trip to the store and paged through the nursery offerings inside. There was so much that went into bringing a child into this world, honestly, and Xanatos was determined that his son would never lack for anything, least of all doting parents.

Awwwww this is adorable and also that last line is so incredibly Jennifer ahaha I love it

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Page 197 of 222

Three Sentence Ficathon 2021

Re: Witches of Spare Oom

Re: Eeling Contrary

no subject

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Teen Wolf, Cora/Lydia, Getting to the Good Stuff

Teen Wolf, Derek/Stiles, Entendre

Gargoyles, Elisa & Matt, Famous First Words

Telling The Bees (Elementary, Joan Watson)

Re: A băga mâna în foc pentru cineva (put your hand in the fire for someone)

Re: time for memory, 12 Monkeys, Jennifer Goines

no subject

Re: Fill: Way of the Gourmand

Re: The secret garden - Mary + Selfishness - A Witch of the Moors

Re: A băga mâna în foc pentru cineva (put your hand in the fire for someone)

Re: Upside-down (Eustace + Caspian, Doctor Cornelius; Narnia)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Re: Breath of the Wild, Link & Zelda

Re: Transformers (G1), Ironhide

no subject

Adam's flesh and Adam's bone

Gargoyles, Xanatos, Father-to-be

Re: time for memory, 12 Monkeys, Jennifer Goines