rthstewart | Three Sentence Ficathon 2022

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Three Sentence Ficathon 2022

This post is NOW CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS! PLEASE POST YOUR NEW PROMPTS HERE, IN POST 2! Do continue to fill prompts here but please put all new prompts in Post 2.

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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Glee, Blaine Anderson/ Noah puckerman , craving

On paper, Puck isn't exactly the type of man Blaine would go for--Puck dances between fratboy punk and military issued clean cut, not exactly the flamboyant beauty he usually goes for. But under all that machismo and chaotic energy, Puck was far from an eyesore.

Plus, he had a set of abs that Blaine was dying to just lick some whipped cream off of.

Love this so much thank you this is just awesome thanks lots

Supernatural, Dean Winchester/ Benny , hand to hold

Dean had been telling himself that it had just been the whole, y'know, atmosphere of Purgatory: between the bouts of violence, sometimes the only comfort was a hand to hold.

After a few months since escaping Purgatory, he had to admit to himself that was a wussy excuse – if he wanted to hold hands with Benny, or whatever, that was no one's business but his and Benny's.

Dean expected him to be surprised, but all he did was smile, and gently squeeze Dean's hand in return.

Thank you lots I just love This

Buffyverse , angel/willow Rosenberg strange bedfellows

One direction rpf girl Zayn Malik/Harry styles, bedroom floor

Buffyverse, angel/spike , why do I feel

GTA:San Andreas, Carl & Brian, guilt

Umineko, Jessica/Kanon, the fine art of persona crafting

Umineko/Much Ado About Nothing, Beatrice & Beatrice, merry war of words

What isn’t a woman’s office is the office of a witch, and where no man would right her wronged cousin, it was a witch who went to war for them. A laugh flitted through her ears like flecks of gold eddying in a river — the laugh of the other Beatrice, the Beatrice who answered her bitterest jests and never turned away with a jade’s trick. “Come,” she cackled, “remember the sin,” because some sins should never be forgiven.

because some sins should never be forgiven. wow, yes! and beatrice the golden would certainly have some Opinions about how claudio treats hero. i really love the phrase 'a laugh flitted through her ears like flecks of gold eddying in a river' it's so lovely and evocative.

eee thank you. you're right, beatrice may be a wicked witch who torments lovers, but a man who rejects his bride on their wedding day because she's not what he expected is particularly deserving of her ire.

Umineko, any, come, forgive the sin

Any, any, I don't know who they are. I don't who they are either. I'll just fill it myself, with what I wanted all along.

Umineko, any, love's a gun

any, any, she herself is a haunted house

She remembers a time when hyperspace meant warmth and company instead of desolate cold, but she remembers only the shape of it, like a word stuck on the tip of her tongue. These days, Ahsoka remembers little and hears much: the whispers of a past she can't escape, the silence of known death, the sinister murmurs of the Dark.

She hears voices, many of them, calling to her and laughing with her and crying (out) for her, and she's careful not to name any of them for fear they might come alive, and she's careful not to name any of them for fear of admitting the voices are all hers.

this is real good! the contrast between what hyperspace used to mean and what it means now, and the isolation that becomes voices she cannot name is palpable. thank you!

Poor Ahsoka needs a therapist *pats her*. I'm so glad you enjoyed this!

Oof, it cuts like a knife (or a lightsaber, as the case may be). ALL THE VOICES ARE HERS. God, that hurts, with so many people she loved just gone in an instant.

\o/ I win!

Oh my!!! This is good. Sad lonely Ahsoka 😭😭😭

Thank you! Baby needs a hug. And like, some chocolate and sleep lol.

"I’m sorry," she whispers to the chipped and discoloured tombstones. They don’t answer back, they never do; stripped of their voices, Elena waits in the wings, desperate to hear their voices again, for their laughter, their condemnation. Her heart is in her throat, her clasped hands pressed to the burning skin of her collarbones; grief pools in her gut warmly, heating up, burning her from the inside out. She stares at the row of headstones and feels a long lost ache in her chest where her ability to cry once was.

yes, yes, this is exactly the kind of fill i was hoping for with this prompt. i love how she's trapped in her memories and regret and grief, and can't even cry about it. this is beautiful and sad, thank you.

I'm glad you liked it! ♥ I saw this prompt and just couldn't let it go. c: Thanks for prompting something awesome!

any, there are powerlines in our bloodlines

"Oh – oh, I get it now, this is gonna be good," Zhao Yunlan says, and he's not even playing up the confident laughter that escapes him (really his captors' own fault for not being in on the joke), "that's why you're so sure about keeping me here, isn't it, because you've gone and sucked away all the dark energy in the city between the portals closing and that energy siphon? Which Li Qian's not gonna be happy about at all, mind, stealing her lab equipment to misuse it against her mentor, but you've got even bigger problems than that – do you really think the Envoy survived all these years by leaving himself open like that, especially when it's already been used against him before? More importantly, do you think I'd let him?" he finishes in vindicated triumph, and is rewarded by a glimpse of real fear on the surrounding faces before every last light cuts out with an earth-shaking crack, electricity racing along invisible wires to form a portal that sheds crackling light over Shen Wei as he steps through, sparks flickering up the glaive and down his dark cloak.

Yesss good!

i don't know the fandom, but the lead up to the joke and the payoff were both done so naturally that it was extremely satisfying when Shen Wei stepped through the portal. This is excellent!

Thank you, great to hear it works even without knowing the fandom!

At the Collegia, the plodding scholars still call him Gossorein's greatest student, as if it were an honor, as if he wishes to be termed as a mere pupil, his name shackled to that of a doddering man whose ambition was only ever limited to gawking up at the planets--and who could not, in the end, make the discoveries that came so easily to de Vouger.

But why should the opinions of such limited men matter to Germond de Vouger (de Gautier), heir of the Gautier blood, rightful master of the mysteries of Ixtador and the Veil? And what use this careful cataloguing of the world's natural laws, when with the sweep of a hand he may smash them instead?

i am in love with this description and how clearly it illustrates de Vouger's attitude and how he's bristling under the incomplete definitions of himself, and the way he'd rewrite how the world sees him even as he smashes its natural laws.

Thank you for such a kind comment! I'm so glad you enjoyed it. <3

RWBY, Hound
The dog you really got to dread
Is the one that howls inside your head
It’s him whose howling drives men mad
And a mind to its undoing

RWBY, any, “There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.”

She's been spit on, threatened, attacked, and come closer to death because of humans' hate toward the Faunus than for any other reason, so there's no love lost between her and most of the rest of the world.

The White Fang had always repaid their hate in turn, with greater visibility and willingness to take lives as well as destroy property as the leadership passed from her father to Sienna to Adam, but there are no innocents in the White Fang.

She doesn't know why she believes Ruby when she says things can be better, or why she curls into Yang like there's always been a place for her, but there's something in the two sisters that makes her believe that maybe she's been too simple in thinking there's only two sides, both bad.

Edited 2022-02-13 19:38 (UTC)

blake! i love her, and i'm sad about her cynicism, but the fact that she's finding a home in the two sisters is so beautiful. this is perfect and exactly what i was hoping for, thank you!

RWBY, Ironwood, he doesn’t miss his redemption arc by a hair

They are children, even if they have Hunter licenses, and they aren't responsible for an entire kingdom's safety. Optimism and belief in the better nature of others is for fairy tales, not prolonged wars with an ever-renewing enemy where every inch of ground gained comes at the cost of thousands of lives. He does not have Ozpin's faith in any souls, simple or otherwise, and so when those children work against him, he will treat them as his enemies.

instead he misses it by a lot hksdjfldf, he sure does! i love how children aren't people to treat more gently because they're more vulnerable, but people to treat even more like enemies, because they don't understand things like he does. it's also great that even though he's very much in the wrong here, you can still see why this makes perfect sense from ironwood's perspective, and feel vaguely sad for him because of it. thank you so much!

Call of the Wild, any dog, betray the moon as acolyte

Earth's Children, Iza, told before and told again

Bojack Horseman, any, realization

The Last of Us, any, other countries

The Last of Us, Abby + Ellie, conversation

Narnia or any,

Edited 2022-01-19 11:20 (UTC)

Edmund's eyes narrowed as he took in the slobbering, gamboling golden field, "I can't help but think it is vaguely sinister; all the gamboling fun would be the perfect cover for some nefarious plot."
"Honestly, Edmund," Lucy muttered in exasperation, have you ever met a Golden Retriever capable of even forming much less holding onto malintent?"
By way of demonstration, one of their transparently guileless, and dim, subjects galumphed up, tried to speak around a gigantic stick wedged in her mouth, couldn't, dropped it at their feet, shook herself (spraying them with hair and spittle) and then looked about so confused, Lucy nudged the slobbery branch with her toe and said gently, "You dropped your stick, Sula."

Edited 2022-01-20 14:02 (UTC)

LOL yes, this all checks out for Goldens! Big dopey sweethearts that they are. Of course Ed's suspicious anyhow, and Lucy being like "...dude, Ed, no," is perfect.

This is so great!!

RUTH

fucking amazing, i love this

*melts* Awwwww! <3 Lucy's not wrong, either.

*pets all the boingy goldens*

any, any, family traditions

"Do I want to know why you're bringing a box of mice when you're babysitting my daughter?" Sakura asked, crossing her arms.

"Because she's too young for anything bigger yet, obviously," Kakashi said reasonably, and Sakura raised a brow, "she'll work up to bigger prey with experience. And as she gets older."

". . .that I am still allowing you in. . ." Sakura said, smothering amusement and leaning up to kiss Kakashi's cheek. "I'll be back before dinnertime; she's napping but I expect she'll wake up in the next hour." she told him, heading out past Kakashi and wondering if he would actually get her daughter chasing mice.

Most things that Jack remembers being a yearly event growing up, he doesn't feel any need to pass down to his son.

They had some normal traditions, sure -- Thanksgiving turkey, church on Christmas -- but that's not what sticks with him. Dad's bad mood from his hangovers on New Year's Day, gambling away money they couldn't afford on too many holidays with his buddies and the arguments that came after, years of his mom's smile frozen on while she told him there wouldn't be presents, her complaining about Jack being underfoot too much if he stayed home as he got older and not caring about them if he went out; that's what he remembers best, what feels like the real traditions.

Matt won't have that. Jack goes without whatever he can to make sure there's something under a tree and a tree for it to go under every Christmas, figures out where to go for the best fireworks on the Fourth, buys egg coloring kits on discount the day after Easter so they'll be there next year. He starts bundling Matty up for a New Year's walk when he's still in the stroller, so it already feels like a tradition by the time he can walk on his own, and he starts teaching himself how to cook, so Matty can have meals he'll want to come home for by the time he's old enough to go spend holidays with his friends.

Matty's gonna have things he wants to remember, someday, days that felt special and a house he wanted to be in. There's not much that Jack won't do to make sure of that.

I killed my own aunt, the mother of my half-brother, and hid that truth for almost twenty years. I waited every day for the chance to kill our father; the father who killed my mother through his weakness, his vanity.

Now that same brother stands before me, blade drawn, and it only seems right that things are going to end this way—and if it means Ludger might break free from the things we Kresnik's have done to one another, it's more than I could ever hope to deserve.

"Mother had to leave her bees at the dower house when she married Mr. Buchance," Jemis said as he and Jack ambled through the coppice wood of Arguty Manor, his words puncturing one of the slightly awkward silences that still fell between them more often than Jack wished. They were on the far side of the grounds from the house in question, so the statement fell groundward even more abruptly than it might have done in another location.

"That's a pity," Jack said, casting his mind back to the simpler days of his youth. "She brought a hive from the Woods Noirell when we married. The bees were irritable that first year, no doubt missing the limes and the magic of the Woods, but your mother spent hours in the garden singing to them and to a wild hive that had nested in a lightning-struck oak nearby. She told me she had brought a hive without a queen, both because her mother would permit no breeding queen to leave the Noirell hives, and because it was easier to broker peace with the local bees if she could promise new blood for their lines without the presence of a potential usurper to agitate them."

He paused, attention briefly focused on avoiding a swathe of icy mud that had swallowed several lengths of the path. Green buds might haze the tips of the maple and poplar branches, but winter still fought a fierce rearguard action against the coming of spring, and he had no wish to lose a boot or spend the rest of the walk with a sodden, filthy sock.

"I had never considered that bees might have politics as complicated as ours," Jack continued, "but your mother treated them with as much dignity as the Good Neighbors, and they respected her in return. They might sting me, if I startled them, but never her. And never you, either -- did that change, after the Fall? So much else failed, or went awry, and I was hardly home long enough to ask much of anything."

He glanced sideways, still unsure how Jemis would react to the memory of that wrenching month when he returned home to find Olive married to another man, his reputation in tatters, and Jemis a tight-wound ball of misery.

Jemis ducked a stray branch, one hand on his hat brim to steady it, then shook his head as he rose. "Not anywhere in South Fiellan. I don't recall much about the bees of Morrowlea. The university had dozens of hives, of course, but after my first year, I was rarely assigned to tasks that required patience and careful hands, or that would keep me away from-- that would keep me occupied for more than an hour at a time." He grimaced, and Jack ventured to set a comforting hand on his son's shoulder. Jemis shot him a grateful smile.

"Do you want to purchase a hive or two for our new tenants?" Jack asked, returning to Jemis's original statement. "Or see if you can sweet-talk your mother's swarm into returning?"

Jemis shrugged. "Perhaps. I wouldn't know where to start coaxing a feral swarm back into a human-built hive. Mostly I wanted to--" He paused and looked more intently at his footing than the lightly graveled path required.

Jack walked beside his son and hoped his silence conveyed support and acceptance rather than the judgment Jemis often seemed to expect.

"It's difficult to keep bees in town," Jemis said eventually. "The neighbors complain, especially if they have small children. I hated that we had to leave the bees, but Mother was happy with Mr. Buchance. I've been happy living in Ragnor Bella, and I feel out of place here and in the Woods Noirell. But Arguty Manor will be mine someday, which means I'll have to reaccustom myself to the grounds and accustom myself to the main house."

Jack silently cursed Vorel once again for the wrongs he had done to Olive and Jemis. Lady Flora bore much of the blame there, but Vorel was nonetheless the one who had married her and eagerly taken her words to heart, racking up mountains of debt and dabbling in black magic while his nephew and sister-in-law scrimped and starved, barred from the very house that should have been Jemis's birthright.

"I wondered if a hive might make Arguty Manor feel less unfamiliar," Jemis finished. "It was an idle thought, not a proper plan or request."

"But a thought from the heart, and those are never foolish," Jack said, once again resting his hand on his son's shoulder. "We can make it a proper plan together."

Jemis's answering smile was shy and slightly embarrassed, but held an echo of the unbearable joy that still shone in his eyes now and then when he spoke of the Woods on the border of the Lady's country, where the pain of death transmuted into peace -- the same joy that had spilled from Jemis as he passed on messages from Olive and Rinald and Benneret Buchance, promising that Jack had not failed as a man or a father, that they cherished and respected him, and Jemis felt the same.

Jack pulled his son into a hug, and swore that he would live up to that faith.

any, any, Like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you

Courtiers have gotten accustomed, over the past two and a half decades, to leaving Gertrude be on her bench next to the wall, lest her husband get jealous that she is dancing with someone else. But her second husband isn’t like that at all, and within a few months Claudius has encouraged enough nobles to bring her onto the dance floor that they’ve finally gotten used to such a charming partner.

As she spins around the ballroom, giddy with other men’s styles of leading, she keeps glancing back at her good man and he beams back at her like a child who still can’t believe he’s gotten everything he wanted.

like a child who still can’t believe he’s gotten everything he wanted.--oh, this breaks my heart. And Gertrude getting to be happy for the first time in decades! Claudius not being a jealous idiot! Oh, oh, oh!

and all it took was a little murder, but aren't moments like these worth it? i love their relationship so much, but even the happiness is colored by the sorrow that led to it. thank you so much!

oh they’re so in love, and it’s a love where instead of keeping gertrude’s charms to himself, claudius encourages her to share them and enjoy herself doing it, and a love where even spinning on the dance floor in another man’s arms, gertrude still wants to look at him (her good man).

and him grinning like a child is so endearing and sweet, while also being a bit sad, because he still can’t believe.

they love each other so much! and they love sharing each other and seeing how they each enjoy themselves. and yesss, i absolutely had to slip in "her good man," it's one of my favorite endearments from our shared headcanons for them.

every time claudius has gotten something he wants it's been taken away from her somehow or other, and he's wanted gertrude so much more and so much longer than pretty much anything else, of course he has trouble believing, but he's going to do his best to enjoy this happiness just as long as it lasts!

any, any, don't threaten me with a good time

"Did you," Shen Wei starts (then has to stop and start again because it feels like his brain has temporarily malfunctioned in response to the sound he usually associates with being directed at Da Qing), "did you just click your tongue at me."

"Only as much as you just tried to help despite me having specifically told you not to," Zhao Yunlan says, wielding the now-empty tray at him like a not-so-blunt weapon. "This really isn't that complicated, Shen Wei, you just have to just sit there and be waited on – do I actually have to threaten you into letting me do everything for once?"

Don't really know this fandom but love this!

Thank you! ♡

"I thought you might at least try to apologise!" Junro snapped, loud enough to make the phone crackle, and Keisuke sighed; of course he had, he had probably expected Keisuke to chase after him and grovel immediately, much less in the days following their split at the matsuri. "What else are you going to do? Spend all your time with your new fish?" he spat.

"Sounds better than spending all my time with you." Keisuke said almost without thinking, running his fingers through Kin's hair - he was asleep, his adorable face squished against Keisuke's chest - and realised what he'd said only as Junro made a sharp sound like an angry teakettle . . . but even if Kin-chan had remained a fish after that first night, well. . .

Kojiro looked up from the bar to see who'd just walked in, and nearly choked on nothing to see Adam standing there, studying the menu with a slight smirk on his face.

Kojiro rounded the bar and crossed his arms over his chest—Adam might be the better skater, but one-on-one and with Kojiro's size advantage, he could take him. "Get the hell out of my restaurant before I tie you up and pitch you out on your ass."

Adam threw back his head and laughed. "Careful, Joe. Don't threaten me with a good time. Now do tell, how's the veal parmigiana?"

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Page 41 of 50

Three Sentence Ficathon 2022

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Forgive me, it's been years since I've seen this show

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Star Wars, Ahsoka Tano

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the vampire diaries, elena gilbert

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Guardian; Zhao Yunlan

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Collegia Magica, Germond de Vouger

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Blake, Villains on Both Sides

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The Tin Man Has No Heart (aka Instead, He Misses It By A Lot.)

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Narnia Absence of Malice

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Stimulating Prey Drives (Naruto; Kakashi & Sakura)

Daredevil (Netflix), Jack & Matt

Tales of Xillia 2, Julius

A Metonymy for Love (Greenwing & Dart)

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Hamlet, Claudius/Gertrude

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Guardian; Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan

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Better Company (Kingyou Hime; Keisuke/Kingyou-kun, ex-boyfriend)

Sk8 the Infinity, Joe | Kojiro & Adam | Ainosuke, Don't Try the Veal