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!

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

No one on Alinor marks the anniversary of the empire's fall, not even for mourning or paying respects.

No one marks the end of the Interim either, and only partially because time grew so vague during those years (months? decades? the former imperial citizens of Alinor collectively settle on years) that agreeing on a single date as their end would be next to impossible.

Alinor's children maintain decorum by the skin of their teeth, and draw a conspiracy of silence over things best left forgotten.

Collaborating with Kuja makes him feel sick, a hot and angry lump in his throat that makes Vivi want to scream and bite and throw up every rotten emotion that horrible man ever made him feel. Purge the sickness like his grandpa taught him when Vivi ate something only a Qu could digest and Quan marked that in the "Can't Eat" column.

But.

No one else knew how to build Black Mages. Not ones like himself, instead of the cheap, flimsy kind that burned out under a year.

Zidane talked him into it in the end. Something about offering Kuja a chance to do better. Vivi didn't really care. Kuja could burn, get minced, fester under the sun and be carrion food for all he cared. But he did care very much about Zidane and his big heart, so Vivi could be very brave and find a future for his people. One that had nothing to do with an evil creator.

At least Kuja didn't pretend to be nice. Vivi really would have to shove his head into the rain barrel for that. Both of them were trying for Zidane's sake, and that lent enough effort to come to some sort of understanding. Kuja was quiet, for the most part, directing Vivi to his reference and note books whenever possible instead of talking. Maybe that guy felt guilty. Good. He should. Vivi hoped his sleep was full of nightmares.

It had to be, with what Vivi found in those books. He wasn't a very squeamish boy, grandpa had him help with the butchering early, but seeing the diagrams of a cut open person made his stomach feel funny. Even worse were the notebooks, written in Kuja's hand when he was around Zidane's age. Seeing cheerful words about getting lungs working enough to scream in pain, morose ones about having to clean up another "pile of meat and sinew" turned Vivi's appetite. He didn't want to know about any of this. Especially not about Kuja, the glimpses of something not a ball of bitter hatred and spite. It made it all the harder to understand why that man would choose to hurt the Black Mages so much.

Still. Vivi persisted. He had to. More and more Black Mages were stopping (dying), and Vivi didn't want to be the only one holding onto their memories. The village needed to stay peopled. They all needed a better legacy than as war machines. He was the only Mage strong enough to do it.

When the first success hatched from their egg, Vivi cried with relief. The Mage was tiny, so tiny, but they had the right number of fingers, working organs, even a little blazing soul, Kuja said.

(Kuja kept staring and staring at the baby. Vivi didn't want to think why and didn't care. He had had his chance to be a father.)

Vivi didn't want to leave the baby's side, showing them off to the other Black Mages, the Genomes, Zidane. The little thing even purred as Vivi nursed them with a bottle, then meowed for more when Vivi made sure they weren't choking or anything. A miracle, even more beloved than Bobby Corwen.

A first of many, if Vivi had anything to do with it.

Many, many times over the long, long century, Zelda tried to end their stalemate. The Calamity is a drawn-out sickness, she a strange thing cast in amber. Both drawn out far past their times, both in and out of this lifetime. It would be a mercy for them both.

Yet every time, the Calamity would be resuscitated, she would be returned to a pristine state. This was not how the covenant goes. The two may fight their wars for as long as they may, but only the mortal could end it.

Zelda grieved for them for so many years, then grieved for the loss that meant her imprisonment, then an insipid patience overtook her as she waited for her dear friend to be reborn.

When she saw Link again, Zelda wasn't sure which life she hoped they severed with that divine blade.

Eliot found Alec slumped over his keyboard, his head cushioned on his arm. He sighed, put the groceries on the counter then walked over to look down at his partner.

He was always after the younger man to get more sleep and not to get caught up in trying to delve into the mysteries of the Black Book. They had a business to run; two really, now that Leverage International was up and running.

“I’ve got it, El.” A familiar phrase now, and one that Eliot was going to insist that Alec retire or at least reconsider.

He put his hand on Alec’s shoulder and shook it gently. “Hey, babe. Wake up.”

Alec groaned as he lifted his head, the light from his terminals reflecting blue against his skin. He blinked to focus then yawned. “El. Sorry,” he yawned again. “I was just finishing up some stuff while I was waiting for you.”

Eliot shook his head fondly at the little white lie. “Didn’t mean to take so long,” he said gruffly. “Why don’t you come with me and lie down for a bit. I can cook us something in a little while.”

He was satisfied when Alec didn’t fight him about it.

Aww, sweet~ Poor Alucard; good Trevor is there for him. ♡

Thank you~ ♡

A sharp, bitterly cold gust of wind swept down the street, causing pedestrians to squawk with surprise and clutch their coats tight around themselves. It was almost an unseasonably cold wind for October, and despite the bite - because of the bite - Jamie turned his face into it with a delighted laugh.

He picked up his pace, hurrying home; Jack was finally back in town!

Itama had always had an eye for shiny things; it got him his father's favor when they were bright, well-polished weapons and his ire when they were useless baubles - it got him exasperation from his entire family (well, not from Hashirama-nii - he simply laughed uproariously) when he got each of his piercings, gleaming metal threaded through his earlobe and ear cartilage, even his lip and eyebrow.

The first thing that caught his eye when he met a new person was whatever jewelry they happened to be wearing, the lure of Shiny irrestistable, and it was this that made Uchiha Hikaku stand out to him: the only visible flash of metal among trigger-happy shinobi at a tense peace meeting - where visible weapons were, ah, strongly discoraged - adorning the older man's shoulder.

They didn't talk to each other for another few weeks of negotiations - too on edge, better to let Hashirama-nii and Uchiha Madara handle the bulk of it - but when they did, Itama found a quiet, understated man, easy to overlook in the wake of his clan leaders, but a sense of humor as sharp as a senbon and a sense of duty as strong as bedrock; it might have been the shine of his chains that first caught Itama's eye, but it was Hikaku himself that made him fall in love.

When Tobirama was young, he left water and meat scraps out for a straggly big stray; he used it as suiton practice, which made Father happy, and waited patiently as the cat crept closer each time. Soon it came close enough that Tobirama could see that the proportions were all wrong for an adult cat - it was still a kitten - but he'd gone too far now to stop or have it caught and killed, so he simply adjusted the food to be more appropriate for a youngling.

He politely maintained eye contact, though he tried very hard not to slow-blink in trust before the kitten did first, crouching over the food bowl; then another, much larger, adult cat (some kind of leopard? snow leopard?) appeared out of the brush, padding up to crouch protectively behind the kitten, holding unwavering eye contact with Tobirama, and announced, "Yes, you'll do nicely; will you sign our contract?"

Tobirama's jaw dropped, but the kitten gave an excited squeak.

Agatha is very wise! No idea if the geese are indeed normal or experimental geese. XD

The outside world, as Anthy had feared, was not safer than Ohtori. She knew this, made some mistakes, but it was still so much better to fuck up in freedom than slowly suffocate like a flower in amber. Still, there were some hazards that tripped her up again and again.

"Talk to a therapist" someone had said. "Go see a counsellor." said another. "What the fuck. What the fuck. You want me to kill him for you? Because I'll totally kill him for you." said a third.

Anthy didn't want another prince.

She went to a therapist.

"Why are you here today?" the therapist asked.

Anthy said something pleasant and false. Anthy left.

She went to a therapist.

"How do you feel about your mother?" the therapist asked.

Anthy said she loved her mother. Anthy left.

She went to a therapist.

"Compulsive lying, self sabotage, learned helplessness, history of self harm, clearly you have a personality disorder. For your own safety, I'm having you committed."

Anthy packed her scant belongings before the doctors could suspect a thing. Anthy left.

Therapist after therapist after therapist. All trying to shut her into coffins. So many aimed swords. Anthy wondered what to do. Was it really her? Did she do something wrong again? Something stupid? She can't be better off in the rose garden. Not after all this.

After a while, Anthy met the murderess at a cafe. Tea and cookies.

"I don't want to be rescued." Anthy said. A confession.

The murderess shrugged, more casual than even Utena had been. "I'm not trying to. But women like us, we gotta look out for each other, right?"

Anthy looked at her teacup. "Like us?"

"Yknow. Hurt. Bitches. Dykes. Crazies. Abused and shit." The murderess munched freely. "I dunno how much applies but I remember wishing someone would off my old man when he hit me, yknow? You looked like you could use the offer."

"What are you offering?"

"Community center holds meetings sometimes. Pick any you like, there's womens' support, an LGBT thing, or just general abuse survivor mutual support. There's a board with schedules but I can give you a pamphlet if y'want."

Anthy took a long sip of the tea.

"I'd like that."

Edited 2022-01-26 08:25 (UTC)

"So this is your forests."

"One of 'em, yeah."

"Only one. Remarkable."

Leshy breathed deeply of the mountain air, watching the wind rustle the leaves. So many familiar creatures around him, moving in ways his world could never capture. It felt like a cruelty to capture them on film, so unmoving after their freedom of more pixels than Leshy could calculate. The memory of this world must be immense, to render it all so finely!

The Challenger took out a pack of cards, and Leshy perked up immediately. It wasn't Inscryption, but a different deck, almost blank compared to his beasts.

"Wanna learn some more games?" the Challenger asked.

"Always." Leshy replied.

As queen, Brahne Raza Alexandros XVI had many responsibilities. She was her country's leader, alongside her husband, which meant that no matter what, she had to consider her people above her own personal feelings. Any action she took would be seen, be considered, influence politics even beyond her own borders. Queen Brahne could not afford to be careless.

And yet the fact remained, her beloved daughter was dead.

Such a tiny thing, in her arms, too much in shock to weep. The girl was the very image of her father, with his dark hair and pallid face. Garnet could have been sleeping, were it not for the lack of pulse.

"Brahne." her husband said, "My queen. Please. Think of the country."

A common refrain. One he employed often. One Brahne responded to often. She knew her responsibilities. But, would he really deny her a mother's grief?

"We..." Unlike him to hesitate. That caught her attention. "We have a girl. A foundling. Almost a perfect match. No one outside these walls know yet, my queen."

He couldn't be serious. It was unthinkable. Grotesque. Some tawdry fantasy straight out of a cheap novel. Brahne let herself shed tears at last, felt duty drawing in like a shroud.

"And her?" She croaked past her weeping.

"We can't bury her in the royal graveyard, of course. The newly turned soil alone..."

That was her husband, a small, fond part of Brahne thought. Always careful, always thinking. Could this be her husband? A greater, horrified part of Brahne thought. How could he even think of replacing their only daughter with a double, like a - like a broken vase!

"But we'll give her a grave, in a secret place. We can visit, in secret, of course."

Of course. Like graverobbers instead of parents. An unmarked grave..! Their only daughter! So young, so small, so lifeless!

"Please, my dear. We must act swiftly. No one must suspect the exchange."

The king was too weak to take her daughter from her strong arms. He only had his words, his mind, always his best weapons. Already Brahne could feel her resignation. The death of the princess now would be ruinous. Garnet was already a miracle with her husband's condition, there would be no second heir. Without an heir, their throne was unstable: enemies without and enemies within would seek to dethrone her.

The shroud closed in. Brahne bowed her head over her dead child, gave her the last of a mother's love and tears, before allowing the king to gently take the corpse from her.

"Plant red roses over her." Brahne said.

"Of course, my love, of course."

The new child was a striking resemblance. There were slight differences, here and there, obvious to her mother's eyes. Any other viewer would dismiss those as the changable faces of growing children. Her husband had been right, the girl was as good a match as they could hope for. The girl was quiet and retiring, of course, it seemed she had memory problems from an accident. Truly a providential outcome.

At least her daughter was near at hand, no need to worry about sneaking to visit some lonely haunt. Her daughter had always loved the garden, and newly turned earth was no mystery when planted with a rose garden on the royal grounds. Brahne could visit her daughter for tea every day if she so wished. Even if she could shed no more tears since that wretched night, she had that much.

The girl toddled over to the flowers in fascination, and Brahne's heart ached as she remembered her daughter's steps instead. Would the rest of her life be merely this? Staring after a ghost in her daughter's living shadow?

Instead of being pricked by the thorns, the girl buried her hands in the roses directly. She tore the bloom to pieces, shredding Brahne's hidden heart.

"Cor blimey, Prof, you look like a bleedin' zombie."

"What an extremely original idea," Fendi sneered, not looking up from his computer screen. "What was it that tipped you off? The skulking? The dim atmosphere? The nocturnal habits? The blood fetish? Don't leave me in suspense, detective."

Lucy rolled her eyes. The pottymouthed Fendi was always like this, and she wasn't any more impressed with it than when he raved about murder and shite.

"Nocturnal my arse, you leave on the stroke of five bong and not a second later."

"Because I can't imagine why I didn't want to stick around..." Fendi groused. Lucy ignored him.

"I mean, you look Hank Marvin and I've never seen you eat but what Kat forces down your gob."

"Because I'm a zombie."

"Because you're a beanpole is what! I could knock you down with a breath!"

The clicking at the computer stopped. He turned toward Lucy, and she saw it was the placid Al. It was all in the face and the way he carried himself. And the way he talked of course. Fendi must be fed up if he left this conversation to his 'better half'.

"Lucy, you really don't have to trouble yourself."

"That's a crock of shite and we both know it, Prof."

"I take vitamins. I'm doing fine."

"You got nauseous when I had that sarnie on the train."

"That was..." Al's eyes grazed the room, before snapping back onto her, a habit. "I get motion sick. That's all."

"Uh huh. And when your skin and blister came over with a surprise takeaway pizza and you just happened to head over to the john?"

Al sighed. Drummed his fingers. Gaze darting about the room. Lucy had more evidence in wait but she wanted to see if she could wait him out first.

"Fine, I don't like the sound people make when chewing. Happy?"

"Yes! God, what a production." Chalk up another mystery solved by Lucy Baker!

"Mm. Quite." Oh, Al was grumpy now.

"You know you can just tell me things instead of giving me the vague smile treatment, right?" She fiddled with her cuff, breaking eye contact to give Al a break. "We're good enough pals, right?"

His face softened, as much as it ever did anyway. "Of course," Al looked like he was about to change the subject, but then Fendi took over instead. "So if I tell you to knock off that infernal racket before I silence you permanently..?"

Lucy laughed. "Bloody hell, Prof, I can take my lunch elsewhere! Don't get your knickers in a twist."

"Good, it's disgusting. Completely puts me off my appetite. Makes me want to bash your head against the table."

Ahh, there was the Prof she knew! "As if your little twig arms could do it."

"I could use a weapon. Lots of murderers were physically weaker than their victims."

"Why not poison me instead? It'd be loads easier."

"And lose out on the splatter? I wouldn't miss it for the world."

The Prof was a piece of work sometimes, but Lucy was glad he was about. And he'd stay that way if she had anything to say about it!

Link shrugged at Revali's taunt. Wasn't anything they hadn't heard before.

"Really," he continued, "can you even lift the Master Sword? By yourself?"

Link smiled. Revali was stunned for a moment, but totally unprepared for Link to heft a Lynel sword. A Lynel sword with one hand.

"Oh what the fuck."

The Hero is said to bear a birthmark in the shape of the Triforce. In most lifetimes, it is on the left hand. In others, the mark is more... oblique.

"You say you bear the mark of the Goddesses," Princess Zelda said, "yet I see no mark. Please, show me the proof of your fate."

"'Kay." was all Link said before tipping their head back and pulling at their nostril.

"Drop your weapons" the Yiga agent had said.

"All your weapons." said another, "From the Slate, no funny business."

They suspected Link could fight unarmed.

But they forgot that Link had teeth.

"I saw the Chamption eat a frog. Just, straight up a live frog."

"I saw them eat a raw cucco leg."

"Wha - how didn't they get sick?"

"Oh they got sick, all right. Went right back to eating it the next day."

"All the sleeping must've messed with their head."

"That's nothing." said the third member in their cell, "I saw the Champion eat a rock."

"No! What are they, a Goron??"

"I refuse to believe it."

"Believe me or not, they put a whole rock on a plate. With a little garnish and everything."

The three Yiga Clan soldiers shook their heads as they watched the Champion decorate a cake, sweet scent drifting through their hiding place.

Luo Binghe has no business eating a sundae in public. He's a protagonist in a sex romp of a fantasy action novel, dripping with sexual charisma for everyone to see, and now he's licking things?!

Shen Yuan glances around nervously, expecting the other people on the beach to notice, any moment now.

Ooohh, this is really interesting!

lol! I love when I don't have to know the fandom for a ficlet to be funny :)

Lol! I'm glad the idea came through! And thank you for prompting!

LOL Please, I love it XD

thank you!! i love utena, too, and i want good things for her, though i know there’s going to take a lot of pain to get there.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 208 of 247

Three Sentence Ficathon 2022

Memorials (Greenwing & Dart)

A New Cycle

Typecast

Leverage - Alec Hardison/Eliot Spenser - Handle with Care

Re: Castlevania (Netflix), Trevor/Alucard, Nightmares

Re: Sharing Warmth (Princess Mononoke; San & wolf brothers)

Rise of the Guardians, Jamie & Jack

Naruto Founders, Itama/Hikaku

Naruto Founders, Tobirama & his summons

Re: Geese Assessments (Girl Genius; Agatha, Zeetha)

Coven [ableism, attempted institutionalizing, d-slur (positive)]

Analogue

Duty

Stick To Your Ribs [Layton Brothers: Mystery Room; Al/Fendi & Lucy]

Tiny And Mighty [Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild; Link &/ Revali]

How Did You Even Find That [Legend Of Zelda (non-specific); Zelda & Link]

Bare Arms [Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild; Link & Yiga Clan]

No Accounting For Taste [Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild; Yiga Clan, Link]

Re: Modao Zushi/The Untamed: Lan Wangji/Wei Wuxian

Scum Villain's Self-Saving System, Bingyuan, teen

Re: Transformers G1, Rodimus(/Galvatron/Cyclonus/Scourge) (nsfw, pain play, D/s)

Re: Scum Villain's Self-Saving System, Bingyuan, teen

Re: Scum Villain's Self-Saving System, Bingyuan, teen

Re: How Did You Even Find That [Legend Of Zelda (non-specific); Zelda & Link]

no subject