Three Sentence Ficathon Part 2

[rthstewart]

THE 2021 3 SENTENCE FICATHON IS NOW CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS!

THIS IS THE NEW POST FOR PART 2 OF THE 3 SENTENCE FICATHON -- ALL NEW PROMPTS SHOULD BE POSTED HERE
You may continue to fill prompts (but not leave new ones) at the original Post 1 here.

conuly 's unclaimed prompt list here

Thank you all for participating! We had a rush of prompts at the end so be sure to check it out and if you want someone to fill something in particular, and assuming they don't mind being contacted (I know I  don't!), be sure to let them know!

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 does this just because she is an awesome person but should you want to write her 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/168256.html" _fcksavedurl="https://rthstewart.dreamwidth.org/168256.html" _fcksavedurl="https://rthstewart.dreamwidth.org/168256.html" _fcksavedurl="https://rthstewart.dreamwidth.org/168256.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>

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

Any, any, last jewel of the Gilded Age

Original Work, Ashes of the Past

[mouseyear]

Before this she was a Princess, a future Queen living in a beautiful city, adorned with jewels of all kinds, beloved by all. Now she blended into a crowd of sloppily dressed people, dressing for the thrill of the beauty rather than any real desire to impress. Her jewels now were fake… all except one, taken from the throne that should have become hers.

[(Anonymous)]

Any, any, her wine was the dew of a wild white rose

The Spirit of the Season (Hannah Starks, "A Christmas Party That Prevented a Split in the Church")

[woodmr]

Of course it had been her idea to hide his wedding from spying eyes behind a Christmas party—the Rev. Jonathan Steele being a man of bold vision but not so experienced in the ways of St. Michaels as a widow come back home could be. Mrs. Stark knew what the church Ladies’ Aid Society thought of her and took a certain relish in tweaking their noses with her bridal whites that night, but she wasn’t spiteful enough to keep at it once the true lady of the evening appeared.

“Thank you most kindly,” the newly minted Mrs. Steele, lately Alice Brown, made sure to pass her regards on before greeting anyone else—and if it wasn’t quite peace on earth it was nonetheless all the good will Mrs. Stark could ask for.

---

The short story that served as inspiration was found through the collection A Treasury of African American Christmas Stories by Bettyce Collier-Thomas.

[(Anonymous)]

Stellar Firma, Trexel Geistman/David 7, "do you hear the words you're saying?"

[(Anonymous)]

Stellar Firma, Trexel Geistman/Percy, see you again

[(Anonymous)]

Any, any, women were born to conquer and rule

Star Trek The Wrath of Khan, Saavik

[melime]

Romulan women were born to conquer and rule, to fight and lead, to crush their enemies and captain ships of hundreds, they were stronger than most other species and fiercer than their Vulcan counterparts. Half of Saavik’s blood demanded recognition for that strength, demanded that she fought like her ancestors, and the other half could barely be contained by the Vulcan training she had received from her adoptive family. The only way to contain her Romulan half was by using her Vulcan half to conquer, rising through Starfleet, seeking for a challenge that would satiate her hunger for a challenge.

[(Anonymous)]

Any, any, apples

The Subtle Crunch, Ryuk, Death Note

[redfiona99]

The world is like an apple, round and delicious; the best apples have a subtle sourness. He floats above the world waiting, looking for someone worthy enough to be foolish enough to use the book. When he sees the right person, it's like that first bite of an apple after a hundred years.

[(Anonymous)]

Any, any, tulips

Ghost Trick, Cabanela

[siver]

The tulips always bloomed beautifully, tended by Alma’s hand, adding their welcoming colours whenever he stopped by. Cabanela didn’t know what drove him to come the next year—there was no reason to and no more clues to be found in the place, but old habits or something else caused him to swerve his bike into the familiar turn, down that street, and he stood at their doorstep and there some tulips still bloomed; some remained despite their lack of care and he nodded at them in shared tenacity with a whispered promise.

The next year and the last time he came no such welcome awaited, and he whispered his same promise to weeds and to a door that blocked the emptiness within.

[(Anonymous)]

Any, any, broken red ribbon

Mo Dao Zu Shi, Lan Wangji

[notapaladin]

There is nothing left of Wei Ying after the siege of the Burial Mounds. Not a long-fingered hand or a strand of black hair; nothing. But Lan Wangji walks through the rubble anyway, searching for--what? He's not sure. He only knows that Wei Ying, his Wei Ying, can't possibly be gone forever. That there must be something left behind, something he can keep to remember him by.

When he finds the child Wen Yuan hidden in a tree and raging with fever, clutching a tattered scrap of red ribbon, he knows this is all he'll ever get.

[(Anonymous)]

Any, any, chess

Ghost Trick, Cabanela, Jowd (in spirit)

[siver]

"Cheeeck."
"Not quite."
Cabanela stared at the empty space across the board, all too easily imagining the accompanying smirk, and so another idea was knocked away like so many pawns, but this was one match he would not lose no matter the sacrifices along the way.

[(Anonymous)]

Any, any, hourglass

Original Work, Taloren Keepers of Day And Night

[mouseyear]

Nyx was perpetually asleep, his power flowing in and out of him like the tides with the moon, catching glimpses of wakefulness every time it did, vaguely aware of the being forcing the power to continue on it’s inward and outward march. Sometimes, when power was taken from him from someone other than the ever-present watcher, Nyx caught a glimpse of a blinding light through a tiny hole in the top of his prison, sometimes the light was muted, illuminating the sand he lay on before he would once again be lulled into unconsciousness. The hourglass flipped in the morning and in the evening, two lovers forever trapped on opposing sides, never to touch, never to wake.

[(Anonymous)]

Any, any, pomegranates

Greek Mythology, Hades/Persephone

[notapaladin]

"If you eat those," Hades warns her, "you may never be able to leave my realm."

She looks at the seeds laying in her palm like jewels. She looks back at him--tall and dark-eyed and serious, one hand resting gently on her arm like he wants to hold her but wants even more to leave her the choice. She thinks of an empty throne and a crown kept safe for a queen--a crown of iron thorns, sprouting crimson flowers at the brush of her fingers. She remembers her life as a minor harvest goddess, one only remembered as a set with her mother.

She smiles and pops the first seed into her mouth.

[(Anonymous)]

Any, any, ballet slippers

Original Work, Memories

[mouseyear]

Adah’s parents had brought her to the local museum with hopes that something within it would jog her memory, records from so long ago were mostly gone and apparently Adah herself, had never at any point fully regained her memory so they looked at everything. At first Adah was skeptical, increasingly so after each failed jab at her memory. And then she spotted the slippers, they were held gently in a glass case and Adah didn’t need to read the plaque to know the slippers better then anyone else. They weren’t hers, no. But she had seen them in action hundreds of thousands of times, beloved almost more than she herself had been. No, by the time of the death of the owner of those shoes, definitely more than she was. Though at that point Adah rather suspected the elf had more on her mind than ballet.

[sheenianni]

Any, any, asexual and happy

Dragon Quest XI, Sylvando

[siver]

It was Serena who asked curiously after another performance left yet another slew of admiring, yet ultimately disappointed (but ready for more) faces in Sylvando's wake, "Do you think you might one day settle with someone, Sir Hendrik perhaps or some lady or...?"
Sylvando gave her an uncharacteristically blank stare before he burst out laughing and said, beaming, "Settle, me? No, no, no, darling, why the very thought, no, how could I settle with any one person or two or more when there's a whole world to love?"

[(Anonymous)]

Any, any, seasick

Narnia, Lucy

[mouseyear]

Lucy never got seasick, not in Narnia at least, but in England she is just a child and when the family travels to France after the war, Lucy is the first to be sick. Peter and Susan hold her as she cries at the injustice of it all, sheltering their youngest from the judging eyes of the adults around them so that she can just cry. (The others get sick too, for the first time since before they could remember, but Lucy’s is the worst – and they all know this affects her more than them.)

[(Anonymous)]

Any, any, working through the cold

Obsidian & Blood, Acatl

[notapaladin]

The dry season always turned the nights cold, but he didn't feel it, not really. Oh, his limbs shook, and in a detached away he registered that his fingers were freezing, but it didn't matter. It wasn't a problem.

Acatl took one breath, another, and slashed both his earlobes with the impossibly sharp edge of his ritual knife. Even the hot blood was only warm for an instant before it too turned to a river of ice.

The grave-chill of Mictlan filled his lungs until he almost drowned in it, fathomless black nothing hollowing him out to bone-chimes and dry dead skin, and he inhaled. No, he was the High Priest of Mictlantecuhtli, and nothing so banal as the weather could be a problem when he was accustomed to this.

[(Anonymous)]

Any, any, “I don’t feel so good”

Obsidian & Blood, Acatl/Teomitl

[notapaladin]

"I'm sorry," Acatl muttered. "I'm afraid I'm not...feeling well..."

He didn't look well. Teomitl took a step forward, about to suggest he see a healer, and so he was in position to catch the man when his knees buckled and he slid to the ground like so much dead weight. At least there was no question of a healer not being summoned after that, with diagnosis of a high fever, a prescription of medicines and bed rest, and an offhand comment of "it was lucky that he collapsed in your courtyard, Teomitl-tzin, or who knows how long this might have gone unchecked?"

Right, Teomitl thought shakily. Lucky. He didn't feel lucky, not with Acatl drifting in and out of consciousness on his mat and him sitting by helpless and powerless, unable to do anything but hold his hand and press cold cloths to his forehead.

Acatl mumbled something incoherent. He sucked in a breath and gave his too-cold fingers a squeeze. "Please wake up," he whispered. "I can't lose you, too."

[(Anonymous)]

Any, any, enemy to caretaker

Gargoyles, Elisa & Owen, His Bedside Manner Leaves Something to Be Desired

[mad_madam_m]

Elisa opened one eye from underneath her blanket burrito on the couch and swore out loud. "Burnett. What the hell are you doing in my apartment?"

"Delivering supplies." Burnett held up two paper grocery bags. "Groceries, chicken soup, aspirin, orange juice, tissues—"

She groaned and considered rolling off the couch to confront him, but that sounded like way more effort than she wanted to make for anybody right now. "Why?"

"Goliath informed Mr. Xanatos that you were unwell when he returned to the castle this morning and expressed concern that you did not have the supplies required for such an illness," Burnett continued in the same dry tone. "So I have brought them."

Elisa rolled her eyes. "Out of the kindness of your heart?"

"Hardly. Mr. Xanatos instructed it." Burnett gave a longsuffering sigh. "And given that your parents are out of town, Mrs. Xanatos is watching Alex, and the entire clan is stone for another," he checked his watch, "eight hours, at least, the duty fell to me."

Elisa burrowed deeper into her blankets. "I'm surprised he didn't bring them himself."

"He would have, had he not had a meeting he absolutely couldn't reschedule."

Burnett disappeared back into her kitchen and Elisa could hear him rummaging around, and less than two minutes later he returned to her living room with a glass of orange juice, a mug of tea, two pieces of toast, and a bottle of aspirin on a tray, and set the whole thing on her coffee table. "Do you require anything else at the moment?"

Elisa blinked muzzily at the tray. "I don't...think so?"

"Very well. In that case, I shall leave you for now. One of us will return after lunch to check up on you. If you need anything else in the meantime, please don't hesitate to call Mr. Xanatos's personal line."

With that, Burnett strode out of her apartment and locked the door behind him.

Elisa continued to stare at the tray, trying to reconcile herself with a world where David Xanatos sent his personal assistant to check up on her when she had the flu.

[(Anonymous)]

Any, any, fear of blood

Dragonriders of Pern via SouCon MUSH's Xanadu Weyr

[chanter1944]

"That is the reddest bronze I've ever seen," murmurs an assistant weyrlingmaster who happens to pause near the Weyrleaders and their lifemates just as a maroon-mottled egg ceases to be an egg and causes a, no two ways about it, somewhat apprehensive murmur to go through the candidates nearby, "and I'm including Tasyirth in that statement. Not a bad thing," she hurries to clarify, "so please don't eat me, Taylienth, just a--well, surprising thing, and it looks like he takes after his parents in personality, which is definitely a good and a welcome thing, so."

E'lan is chuckling not at all meanly, and Jenessa's grinning as the weyrlingmaster's assistant puts a hand deliberately over her own mouth; the fear of blood bronze, in the meantime, is making a careful and completely snarl-free inspection of nearby candidates - several of them back away in varying degrees of haste anyway, and one says a very loud "uh-oh" - but then a dark-skinned and black-haired young man from among Xanadu's own stablehands steps forward instead, to be met with a nuzzle and a croon rather than a mauling.

[(Anonymous)]

Any, any, fear of needles

Obsidian & Blood, Mihmatini & Teomitl

[notapaladin]

"You're not telling me, on the night before your coronation, that you're scared of needles."

Now her husband is flushed and defensive, and she feels a little bad. Not much--Teomitl is a warrior, used to shedding his own blood in devotion to the gods, and the emerald septum piercing that will mark his ascension as Revered Speaker can't be that much worse--but a little. Before she can apologize, though, he huffs, "It's not the pain that bothers me. It's that Nezahual is going to be the one with the needle."

Ah, yes. The Revered Speaker of Texcoco is the one who performs that particular function at the imperial coronation, and Teomitl's never gotten along with him. "Maybe you should have been nicer to him."

"Mihmatini!"

She smiles. "You'll be fine. I'll be waiting for you when it's over, and if he's hurt you I'll kick him down the temple steps."

"...That does help," he mutters. "Thanks."

"And I won't say anything if you cry."

"Mihmatini!"

[ernest]

King Lear, any, wilderness

[ernest]

King Lear, Edmund, “I should have been that I am had the maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing”

[ernest]

King Lear, Kent & Edgar, comparing disguises

How to out-crazy crazy

[francienyc]

'You have to admit,' said Kent, 'That my disguise was the best. I ran around picking fights with knaves. I brought myself to such a towering rage I earned myself a night in the stocks. The King himself didn't see me for who I was, even after I pledged to serve him.'

'Arguably you lost yourself along the way, behaving ignobly, with such base insults. Ultimately I was the one who killed the knave. No one took me for who I really was. They all believed in poor Tom, haunted by the foul fiend.' And here he reassumed his posture as Tom, curling and contorting his body.

'That is only because you were half naked,' Kent stated. 'Mostly naked, actually--there were several moments where you had almost shed your landings as much as the King.'

'All in the name of disguise,' Edgar said.

Kent sighed. 'But in the end, what did it get us? You revealed yourself to your father and he died. I served Lear in spite of banishment, in spite of everything, and in the last moment he pushed me away. It was all for nothing.'

Edgar rubbed his mouth. 'Nothing will come of nothing.'

[ernest]

King Lear/Hamlet, Edgar/Laertes, "youth to itself rebels, though none else near"

[smallhobbit]

"So is this rebellion?" Edgar murmured to Laertes, as they lay entangled in the bed.

"Maybe," Laertes replied with a half laugh, "but given our fathers what other choice is there but rebellion, other than drab conformity, which I refute?"

"Better we strike out together, than we wait on their dictates; maybe we should try fair Verona."

[ernest]

King Lear, any, loyalty and justice

[elementalraven]

Narnia/Legally Blonde, Elle Woods and Edmund Pevensie, any

Wardrobe

[sobqjmv_sphinx]

The British boy in Elle's class was a disaster of fashion. He was the most boring person she had ever seen, and she went to a law school. If she broke into his dorm room to look through his wardrobe, that was no one else's business, and if she took one of the daggers she found, well, he couldn't tell anyone.