rthstewart | Three Sentence Ficathon 2022 Part 2

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Three Sentence Ficathon 2022 Part 2

UPDATE 14 FEBRUARY 2022 -- 3SF 2022 IS NOW CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS! Do continue to fill prompts already posted but the 3SF 2022 is now closed. We'll be back next year in a new comm (If I can get my act together). Thank you again!

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 but please post new prompts here, not there. And if you're asking, hey is just me, or did this get enormous really fast? Why yes, yes it did. Last year, it took us ten days before I opened a new post. This year, it took us about 5.5 days to get there. So, by all means, go back and fill in Post 1 and post new prompts here!

Also woops, in an indication of how busy I've been with other things, I neglected to post that for a third year in a row the awesome

conuly started a master list of unclaimed prompts and has been updating it as time permits. Obviously a huge task! Thank you!

Welcome to the Three Sentence Ficathon!

Here's a Friending meme!

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 at bit after about 2 weeks and especially once we open a new post because this one is approaching 4,500 comments.
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.

Here's my attempt at a text box that might go horribly awry.

How long will it go?
The 3SF closes to new prompts on February 13, 2022. The entry stays open permanently and people post fills all year long. (There were a bunch of new posts to the 2021 3SF this week!)

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 (and much more). 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, protect yourself, 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 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.

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

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

The family of Dorothy Gale was so unremarkable that they could not even boast a surname to tie them to any history beyond that which will be soon be related. That Dorothy herself possessed one is acknowledged, as she is the heroine, and therefore entitled to all the privileges and expectations of literature; but as neither Uncle Henry nor Aunt Em enjoy any significant role in future events, I will only add that they were very plain in both manners and appearance, their mutual gray sobriety quite overshadowed by the dog Toto, who will be described in far more expansive prose. Objections to the priority of this narrative must be due to prejudice by readers more fond of felines than canines and so dismissed altogether.

Edited 2022-04-02 03:06 (UTC)

Although my dear friend Mr. Sherlock Holmes has often chided me for failing to observe a clue, even my tired eyes could plainly see that my home had been invaded by a man of more than usual height smoking what appeared to be his third pipe while encamped in a veritable fortress of newspapers by the fire. I further noticed my wife had served tea and a plate of the biscuits he showed more than passing interest in when last visiting, ceding him the sitting room out of respect for his obvious distress.

Before indulging my curiosity as to what incredible problem was putting Holmes’s powers to the test, I therefore went in search of Mrs. Watson to thank her for so kindly adjusting to this unlooked for but not entirely unexpected caller.

Their people had once come from Aztlan—the place of white cranes, the place of white herons. Quenami, as High Priest of Huitzilopochtli, could still walk in the Heartland of their patron god without fear. There were times Acamapichtli thought about chafing over that; war fed the gods and the sun gave life, but without the rains brought by Tlaloc their Empire would reign over a barren pit. And besides, Quenami was far too useless (and cruel, and arrogant, and stupid—did he not think his days would be numbered ever shorter if he continued to make an enemy of Acatl once Teomitl took the throne?) to be as smug as he was. It was enough to make him more than mildly annoyed.

But then he sat on the steps of his temple and listened to the herons calling each other over the lake, winging home to their nests with mouthfuls of fish, and he wouldn’t trade his current station for anything.

He is only a man. The second son of peasants, a poor priest with no great family ties or political backing. The most that can be said for him at court is that he’s stubborn and has the very enthusiastic support of the master of the House of Darts, which—under Tizoc, at least—isn’t the boon it could be. Acatl would be the first one to say he’s average at best. There are better warriors, better politicians, better speakers.

But when he opens himself to the emptiness of Mictlan, turning his skin to black smoke and his eyes to fathomless voids and his blood to silver shining through him like moonlight, there is no better High Priest.

So well deserved!

Idk who Teomitl is but I wanna tell him he has earned a victory!!! You deserve some self satisfaction Teomitl!!!!!

Heh! Serve her right!

Always - I adore him :)

I'm so glad :)

Teomitl still can’t steer a boat to save his life, but it doesn’t matter anymore. When your patron is the goddess of lakes and rivers, you won’t drown unless She lets you, and his balance is good enough that he probably won’t fall off. (Some scrap of good sense warns him that he should have brought a companion or at least told someone where he was going. He ignores it. Is he the new Revered Speaker or not?)

He stands at the prow, pole in hand, and takes himself out into the canals of Tenochtitlan alone.

There are the porters carrying their loads; there are the water carriers and nightsoil men on their early-morning duties. He can hear merchants talking as they set out their mats and women singing as they weave. Nobody gives him a second glance—he’s shed his finery, so if they notice him at all they must take him for some noble youth out on his own business. He supposes that’s still true, even though he came out here without any plan at all. He simply...

He’s been cooped up in the palace too long. He takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with the scent of the lake. Ah, he missed his city.

He was born to riches, to precious jade and precious quetzal feathers. At three days old, there was coral on his ankles and gold on his wrists. His father may have lived for several years in exile, may have taken back his city with sword and flame, but Nezahual has never known want. Is he not an emperor and the son of emperors? Who would deny him?

Acatl, apparently. Tenochtitlan’s High Priest of Mictlantecuhtli has never been overawed or even impressed by him, and is currently narrowing his eyes at him in a way that suggests he might be more than mildly annoyed. Perhaps he’ll even raise his voice, something Nezahual doesn’t think he’s ever heard. “My relationship,” he snaps, “is none of your business.”

He steps back, trying to look innocent. “I only wanted to know where you got such a fine necklace.” And the equally fine love bites the rich blue stones aren’t quite hiding.

“It was a gift,” Acatl grits out, and turns to leave. “Is that all, Nezahual-tzin?”

He thinks for a moment. “...Give my regards to Teomitl when you see him.”

Acatl stiffens, the backs of his ears turning red, and Nezahual grins. He does so love being right.

HA! I love that Jack is Dorothy and Carter is the Tin Man and not the other way around. Because that is what fits them... heart, brains, courage, ... and the one who always needs to get them all home safely :D

Cold sea surrounds the tall cliffs, pushing in with each tide as if a hand squeezing a throat. The great structures are rocky and sheer, a treacherous climb. A better route is inland, through the mingling trees, where your feet are cushioned by pine needles and your head is sheltered by sun-dappled leaves.

Ooo I liked this a lot. thanks

Lucy couldn't help staring at the very strange--man?--before her. It was startling enough when he appeared through the trees, goat legs and arms full with flimsy white bags, holding a strange thing which she could only assume was a camera (albeit very flat and square, but there was a lens on it that he pointed out to her while he tried to explain what "live streaming" was, and she could actually see the video play as if he held a very small, full color television) out on a very long stick before him, but subsequent talks hadn't cleared much up. He kept going on about her "cool, vintage threads" while tugging at her jumper, and asking if she was "a real man--or human, sorry I wasn't trying to assume anything".

She was so confused by the whole thing that when he offered to take her back to his place--"my studio might not have great natural lighting, but it sure is warmer than out here!"--she ended up agreeing because she wasn't sure how to refuse.

"But first, I gotta take a selfie with my first human bestie!" he laughed, getting the--camera?--back out and she felt like she understood only some of that sentence, but it wasn't like she had never taken a picture before. She managed a grin as he put up two fingers--the V sign was apparently a thing here?--but at least she had fun when he handed his device over and let her pick out a filter for the photo.

(She picked the one that gave them dog noses and ears. Tumnus nodded in appreciation and only belatedly remembered that someone might report his selfie with a human, or worse, repost it. He set the photo to private and considered the whole thing settled.)

LOL. You'd think that Jim would learn, wouldn't you.

Mab

“I love seeing you smile.”

Acatl—who had been smiling as he watched the setting sun paint the Sacred Precinct crimson and gold—turned red. “I don’t know why,” he muttered. “It’s not—it’s just a smile. I’m capable of it on occasion.”

Teomitl froze. Oh, fuck, he’d said that out loud. And Acatl had heard it. He wondered if it was too late to throw himself into the nearest canal. “Uh,” he said intelligently. “You can. ah. You can forget I said that, I don’t—it’s just—” It’s just that you’re beautiful and patient and good. It’s just that I love more than your smile.

But then Acatl turned to him, his gaze softening. “Really, I think it’s your fault; when you do it, it’s contagious. You’re like the sun.”

Teomitl’s heart felt as though it had lodged itself in his throat. There was maybe a hands’ breadth separating them, and they were the only people sitting here on the edge of the temple steps. He was achingly aware of the shape of Acatl’s mouth. “...Brutal, unforgiving and capable of setting things on fire?”

He’d thought Acatl’s smile was lovely. He wasn’t prepared for Acatl’s snort of laughter, nor the way he covered Teomitl’s hand with his own and gave it a lingering squeeze. And he certainly wasn’t prepared for the way Acatl breathed, “Radiant.”

Welcome! Acatl is the VERY WORST at taking care of himself & his poor friends and underlings have their work cut out for them.

Sequel to this story. I just want selkie girl to be happy. No idea what her name is though. Am open to suggestions.
---

Peter is not a fool and, despite nearly ruining relations with Galma that one time, he was not a bad diplomat. But he was certain he was going to offend someone tonight and all he could hope for was that it wouldn't be his fiancée at least.

"You'll be fine," she promised, pulling him to the big bonfire on the beach. They had to dodge the sweaty, gyrating bodies around them, which was not made easier for Peter because all he could do was keep his eyes pointed up to the stars to avoid accidentally gaping at the nude party-goers around him. Honestly, the autumn bacchanals were going to seem tame in comparison after this, what with some of the selkie couples not doing a great job of finding private places to canoodle.

"That," he grumbled, as he got elbowed in the kidneys by an overenthusiastic gent who then got chased away from a young lady by the beachmaster. "That is all well and good for you to say. I'm the only one who refused to take his trousers off."

She laughed and he almost forgot his discomfort--two years ago, she'd been too withdrawn and sad to smile, even after they had her marriage annulled and her husband jailed. The year and a half she'd been in Narnia had done much to help her heal, but tonight was the happiest he'd seen her since he asked her to marry him last month. The excitement on her face drove home how worth all the trouble it'd been to talk to the Narnian selkies into letting her join their celebrations--the Galmian selkies exiled her for the loss of her pelt, but Narnian selkies could never harden their hearts to a mistreated lady--or refuse such an earnest request from their high king.

"You will be fine," she repeated again as she finally deemed their proximity to the great bonfire good enough and rearranged his hands on her so they could dance. "And," she added, "if you are having second thoughts about the trousers then let me tell you, I certainly wouldn't mind if you took them off."

On the other side of the fire, the drummers started a new song and a cool ocean breeze blew through, reminding him that the best way to stay warm tonight would be to dance. Setting aside his embarrassment, he let her pull him into the wild dance and said "all I ask is that if I do mess something up tonight, don't tell Ed and the girls about it."

She laughed and he knew that it was all definitely worth this for that grin alone.

Oh, this was great. Made me laugh. I needed that. Thank you.

Of course it couldn’t simply be a wandering ghost or hungry monster from the Underworld. No, Acatl was summoned from his warm and comfortable bed by the manifestation of a minor god, one who intended to take by force the tributes He felt had been denied to Him. Which would have been alright, really, except it was a god even Mictlan had thrown out, and so when the High Priest of Mictlantecuhtli showed up...

Well. It was not taken well. Acatl, gritting his teeth on a scream as Teomitl poured cold water on his burns and Palli ran for a healing-priest, still had to admit it could have gone much worse. At least nobody had been too badly injured.

Of course, when he voiced this, Teomitl glared at him. “You’re not nobody, Acatl!”

He started to say it was still fine, he’d had worse—but then Teomitl started bandaging his wounds with shaking hands, and he shut up.

I love this!

When Teomitl caught sight of his reflection, he saw Tizoc’s hawkish nose and high cheekbones, a flash of dark eyes and straight dark hair before he turned away. Sometimes—it was much rarer now, but it still happened—his older brother would smile, and Teomitl could never look at him when he did that because he knew, he knew it was far too much like his own.

If there was a mirror capable of displaying the darkness of a man’s heart—cruelty, arrogance, paranoia—he wondered if he’d see Tizoc’s in his own reflection too.

(You’re not him, Acatl told him. You’ll never be him, Mihmatini said. Teomitl wished he could believe it.)

He will be Emperor. Was it not foretold in prophecy that all Huitzilxochtin’s sons would rule? When Axayacatl is dead, he will succeed him. There should be no doubt. Indeed, even to vote upon it is almost an insult.

But there will be a vote, regardless of his feelings. The council will be looking for a canny politician, a man skilled in war, a man with the blessings and favor of the gods. He can handle the first two well enough, but the god do not bestow their blessings on mediocre men. He knows this. So does the council.

So too does his brother, who half rises from his very deathbed to ask, “Have you a plan?”

He almost smiles. “I do.”

And he doesn’t care who dies in its execution.

I am screaming!

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Page 172 of 187

Three Sentence Ficathon 2022 Part 2

First Impressions (What if Jane Austen wrote The Wonderful Wizard of Oz?)

The Signs of Hospitality (Sherlock Holmes at the Watsons' Home)

Obsidian & Blood, Acamapichtli & Quenami

Obsidian & Blood, Acatl

Re: Blakes 7, Servalan

Re: Obsidian & Blood, Teomitl

Re: Blakes 7, Servalan

Re: Stargate Atlantis - Radek and Rodney

Re: The Sentinel (a very old but dear fandom of mine...) from Blair to Jim

Obsidian & Blood, Teomitl

Obsidian & Blood, Nezahual & Acatl

Re: Stargate SG1, Jack and Team

Fill

Re: Obsidian & Blood, Ichtaca & Acatl

Tumnus, I'm so sorry I turned you into an influencer himbo

Re: The Sentinel (a very old but dear fandom of mine...) from Blair to Jim

Obsidian & Blood, Acatl/Teomitl

Re: Obsidian & Blood, Ichtaca & Acatl

Suddenly, a wild Peter/selkie story appears!

Re: The Sentinel (a very old but dear fandom of mine...) from Blair to Jim

Obsidian & Blood, Acatl & Teomitl

Re: Fill

Obsidian & Blood, Teomitl

Obsidian & Blood, Tizoc

Re: Dr Who - Seven and Mel Bush