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Welcome to the 2023 Three Sentence Ficathon!
As of 16 Jan 2023 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.



This post will remain open for new prompts until we hit 4000 comments, at which point we'll open a new one to avoid captcha as long as possible. New fills and comments on fills will always be welcome.


How to Prompt


Prompts should be one prompt per comment, formatted in this way: fandom, character(s), prompt word/sentence

Example: Star Wars, Obi-Wan Kenobi, I don't like sand


Prompts may also be open ended, unspecific, or anthropomorphic, such as:

any, any, I don't like sand
or
Earth geography, sand, I don't like humans very much, either


Prompts for relationships are welcome; a / is used for romantic/sexual relationships and an & for platonic. A prompt that uses both means the relationship can be written as either romantic or platonic, such as:

Star Wars, Anakin/&Obi-Wan, I don't like sand


Prompts may be repeated if they are unfilled; there is no obligation to read through every prompt to make sure yours isn't a repeat. This year's 3SF will stay open for new prompts through Sunday, February 12th.

How to Fill


Respond to your chosen prompt with a short fic of three sentences containing the fandom & characters requested!

Prompts can be filled more than once, as many times as someone has a new idea for them.

Notes & Rules


No, fills do not need to be exactly three sentences! It's more of a guideline. Please abuse grammar and punctuation as much as desired.

3SF is a Choose Not to Warn space. Spoiler and content warnings are not required, though writers are free to add them if they please. If you see something you don't like, just scroll until you do!

A Dreamwidth account is not needed to participate. Anonymous prompts/fills are welcome, or you can use Open ID.

Cross-posting is encouraged; there is a 3SF Collection on AO3 if you'd like to post fills there as well.

Note that the comm is searchable! Tick the 'include comments' button when searching to easily find prompts for your chosen fandom/characters.

And most importantly, have fun! If you have questions, check the Sticky Info post and if they're not answered there, head to the Contact the Mods post.

Date: 2023-01-15 02:26 am (UTC)
dragonofeternal: a multitude of crows in flight (00 crow flight)
From: [personal profile] dragonofeternal
any, any, what is done out of love always takes place beyond good and evil
raisedbymoogles: (Default)
From: [personal profile] raisedbymoogles
"What's the damage?" Rodimus asked, and First Aid tried and failed to hide a wince.

"Three deactivated, sixteen seriously wounded. All of them, uh - late in the battle." Now it was Rodimus's turn to wince - the three dead mechs hadn't been friends, exactly, but they had been his, and their lost sparks were laid to his account. "Um, look, I'm not a tactician, so take this with a grain of selenium..."

And that was rare enough that Rodimus put down his stylus entirely to give 'Aid his full attention. "Go ahead. I'm not a tactician either, you can't be worse than me at it."

The attempt at self-deprecation fell flat, and First Aid didn't even try to pick it up again, sweetspark that he was. "Just - next time you go after the Decepticon High Command? Maybe take out Cyclonus first."

"...yeah. Yeah, that was a tactical error, in retrospect." Rodimus ducked his head down, rubbed over it with one hand. "Sorry, 'Aid. Thanks for all your hard work today."

"I didn't say it to make you feel bad." And, throwing rank to the winds - not that Rodimus cared about that anyway - First Aid came over and hugged him, until Rodimus unbent enough to hug him back. "You did your best. And you know better now. That's all you can do."

"Mhm." Rodimus carefully didn't respond, just leaned into the hug for as long as First Aid wanted, and ducked his head down for pats as they separated. "Get some rest, okay, lil doc? Hot Spot'll string me up if he thinks I'm overworking you."

"Oh, he will not." But First Aid agreeably trotted off, presumably toward his own berth, leaving Rodimus to lean back in his chair and wrestle with his own thoughts.

Said thoughts were on the violet god of vengeance Cyclonus had become, when the Autobots had managed to bring Galvatron down. All but untouchable in the air, death to those on the ground - Cyclonus had always been singleminded in his purpose, but his purpose tended to swing back and forth on Galvatron's whims. With Galvatron no longer conscious, Cyclonus's focus had narrowed down to a single, needle-sharp point. Really, it was a miracle they'd only lost three. And Galvatron himself, who was probably in some Decepticon medbay getting welded back together already.

The deaths still hurt, but - Rodimus's spark was hanging on the glimpse he'd caught of Cyclonus's expression, just before he'd transformed and started raining destruction down on all of them. Not just dismayed, not just enraged, something beyond both of them. It wasn't just duty or loyalty that had ignited Cyclonus's engines then, Rodimus would swear to it on his own spark.

Given that... he couldn't hate or blame Cyclonus, even if the jet had killed a hundred of Rodimus's Autobots. He just hoped Galvatron knew what a treasure he had in Cyclonus, and returned his lieutenant's love with some measure of loyalty.

White Collar, Neal, Beyond good and evil

Date: 2023-01-18 07:01 am (UTC)
sheenianni: (Default)
From: [personal profile] sheenianni
Maybe it's wrong; he doesn't know and doesn't care. He's made his decision and he's going to see this through, whatever it takes.
After all, better his friends think him dead than to attend their funerals.
be_themoon: I want a better world. By me. (Default)
From: [personal profile] be_themoon
Her fingers feel numb as they hand her the paperwork, everything she hears seeming to come from so far away it might as well not even be there, and she knows that if she signs them she is consigning her husband to a life he will never forgive her for, knows that if she does this the next few minutes they have together (if he survives the procedure, her treacherous brain whispers) will be the last time he will look at her without betrayal in his eyes.

She signs, almost blindly, shoves them back across the table, and waits, and waits, and waits, for what seems like a lifetime, prays for the first time in so many years, prays for his life but never, not once, does she pray for his forgiveness.

Love can only excuse some transgressions.
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