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

A Fitting Coffin (Arthurian Myth, Nimue (Lady of the Lake) + Merlin)

[fallen_stage]

(content warns: offscreen sexual assault, implied underage, abuse of power and age difference, non specific sleazy grabbing, misogyny. Shitty dude does get punished)

The first time she meets him is as a girl, attending the wedding of the king. Although she was hunting the day before, now she is clean and clad in brocade, enjoying the beer and bread but with her own special cup of milk and dish of honey. Her hosts are gracious ones, if only to avoid her wrath, but Nimue appreciates it nonetheless.

During the dancing after the ceremony, an older man asks for her hand. She recognizes him as the wild man who became Arthur's advisor, and even with their age difference she looks down on him, and thinks it politic to grace his request. Like all fairies she enjoys dancing, and as the son of a devil his steps are equally light and clever, but his hands grasp her too tightly, and he looks at her the way presumptuous men look at women. He is old enough to be her father. During the next set she exchanges partners and avoids his gaze all evening, lest the milk curdle in her stomach.

Many, many years later, she hears things. Merlin taking female students. Female students leaving merlin. Her son's offhand gossip about Merlin's lovers, also his students. Women young enough to be his granddaughters, whose bellies would surely be swollen were Merline not clever enough to leave no trace. Nimue puts down her hammer, banks the fires of her forge, and sets out to do something. She may be a fairy, but she's always had one foot in the mortal realm.

So she goes to Merlin, presents herself as another potential student, smiling and reminding him of their first dance, her glamour showing him the tall and solid girl she was. He can see the future, she knows, and tell she has a glamour, but his eyes are rapacious as ever, his hands as restless. Foolish man! He stares at her face, enchanted scarless; he stares at her hair, long and golden and rippling rather than the brown curls it darkened into; he stares more at her body, a young bole rather than the immense pine she became.

Merlin waits only a week of instruction, hardly learning her first spell before he knocks at her chamber, seeking entrance. Nimue allows him the door but no further, and when he tries to press her suit she pushes back. Magician or no, she is still stronger: not just her body, honed like a blade, but also her ensorcelled loins repelled him, leaving him impotent for a month. Merlin dared to scold her, not even as a husband to a wife, but like a parent to a child, but still condescended to her, impressed by her skill.

Over the year Nimue drew every spell, potion, and poultice from Merlin's gray head, leaving nothing but a shriveled husk behind. Nimue would skim any good that existed in that pit, and leave the rest behind. Even the bogs were richer than her current hunting ground, and she would shape and forge his magic until it became greater than its origins.

In the spring she granted him the honor of resting his weary head in her lap under a flowering hawthorn. She ran her figures through his hoary hair, speaking aloud after a few minutes of contemplation. Let him take the memory as his only solace.

"Remember when we first met?"

"Ahh, how couldn't I? Lissome as a willow you were."

Nimue bared her teeth. "Few would call me so."

"Hmm, yes, you're quite stubborn in - many ways. But back then, so young and fresh! Girls are quite bending then."

She shows more of her teeth at that. "I'm sure you've noticed my glamour. I thought you might not recognize me."

"I've noticed, of course. A common device to fascinate a man, one I'm not immune to! In a mortal maid I would suspect a misshapen nose or smallpox scars, but what could you be hiding, my dear?"

"Let's see if you can guess. For every correct one, I will undo the spell."

Merlin nestled into the meat of her leg. She didn't lack in fat, but her muscles were too firm for his pillow. "Oh, a fairy game, of course, of course. Let's see... Your hair of course. Women often spend pains on that."

"Yes." Nimue answered, letting the enchantment drop. Not too much changed, mostly the color. The dappling sunshine glinted on her chestnut hair, loose outside of the forge.

"I thought so. And next is your face I'd wager."

"Yes." Nimue answered, unmasking her placid face. The fashion was an indoor pallor, but of course a fairy would never shy from the sun and wind. Not weather-damaged, but warmer, with stronger features than the slips Merlin usually preferred, dark eyes boring into his. He chuckled at her face, a boldness that did him no favors.

"Ahh, not the girl you used to be, eh? Even fairies feel the touch of time, but you remain as lovely as ever. You've always been a handsome woman, Nimue. Next, I've noticed that the way you move in your gowns is unusual, you stride like a man at times."

"Do only men stride?" she prompted.

"No, fairies always had their own rules. Of course you could afford any finery you wished, so no spinning wool into silk here, but it's not what you're used to, is it? Won't you show me what you're accustomed to wearing?"

"You would be disappointed." she demurred, knowing the salacious tone and what he was expecting.

"Nothing would shock me. Go on then."

"Mark your words." Nimue shifted her clothes, silk turning into linen and leather. Her skirt was wool, but her smith apron was leather, and made Merlin's couch much less soft.

"What the - goodness, Nimue, you are full of surprises. Is this a pose? Playing the blacksmith? I feel as if I'm laying on a horse."

"My smithy is no pose. Where did you think Excalibur came from, when I delivered it to the king?"

Merlin chuckled, like he would at a clever dog performing a trick. "Ah, you're the forger, are you? What a novelty! I see you've still got a glamour on, so you are hardly a willow wand anymore. You were quite an, ah, pillar of a girl, as I remember."

"More than a pillar, Merlin." Nimue said, standing at last. She loomed over him, half again his bent height and twice as wide, muscles flexing under the linen of her shirt. "You sought to pluck a flower but tried to uproot a mountain."

Nimue grabbed him by the front of his fine clothes, the hawthorn behind her opening up at her command. Such trees have always been fairytouched. Merlins legs kicked foolishly like a caught frog as she held him aloft, sun touching his face for the last time as she looked into his eyes and, finding the fear there, smiled in satisfaction at finally landing her quarry.

"The only tree here is you, hollow and brittle with rot. Find wholeness inside the hawthorn, instead of inside unprotected girls."

Merlin's screams were smothered by the wood as bark closed over his body.