2023 Three Sentence Ficathon - Post #1

[3sfmod]

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.

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

Any, any, stop forcing romantic advances on a woman when she's says you'll only ever be friends, it's disgusting

The Silt Verses, Carpenter, "I said no, and so..."

[dragonofeternal]

[content warning for: murder, human sacrifice, violent imagery, and drowning]

She supposed it was better her than some guileless ingenue. These men. She’d never had use for anyone like that- man, woman, or what have you- but it was the men who always seem to take “no” the worst. Like she was challenging them to a game, rather than telling them to get the hell out of her face before she put her boot through their teeth.

“For the last time,” she growled, “I told you no. I’m not interested in coffee, or dinner, or a trip down to Nesh to see the latest wonders of the Saint Electric.”

“Well, we could go as friends,” the man said, his voice smooth and reasonable, trying to make her seem like she’s the one getting her hackles raised for nothing. “See what comes of it after that. I just want to get to know you better, Mallory. You’re so lively, so smart, even if you never know how to let people in… I could help you.”

Help her. Like she was a silly little girl or a wounded animal, framing his insistence as altruism instead of a fucking annoyance. Fine. He wanted to get to know her better? She would oblige.

“…Fine.” She twirled her hair around a finger, played at being the nervous young woman who didn’t know how to love that she’d been cast as in his mind. “I like birdwatching. We could go down to the river, see what egrets and kingfishers are there. This time of year there’s a lot of migratory birds that stop over in the Peninsula, too.”

Carpenter watched him turn the idea over in his brain, first with disappointment at the dull proposition of birdwatching, and then with excitement at the possibilities for wet shirts and skinny dipping at the proposition of a river. She could practically hear the gears grinding. The man grinned. “Let’s go!”

The ride was about half an hour in his car, shining and new. His hand rested on her thigh for most of that drive, and he made small talk about how beautiful it was out here. The sun dappled the road, filtering through the early autumn leaves. This man was not one of her people. This man was a city boy, high on the idea of his fancy car and having cowed a girl into enduring his company. He grumbled when they got out and he saw all the mud splattered on the sides of his car. So much for him appreciating the beauty of the outdoors.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Carpenter said, grabbing her bag as she left the car. “Let’s head down to the water, have some fun.”

Their shoes squelched in the thick, sucking mud at their feet. The man did an admirable job of not whining about it; he must have really wanted to see her out of her clothes, splashing in the water and giggling like a school girl. Carpenter wondered where these men built their fantasies about her, wanting her to be soft and sweet and malleable, when she was about as welcoming and kind as a fist with a sour look to match. Why be so insistent about winning a girl when it seemed any one could do to fit the fantasy?

“Look at that one,” the man said, too loudly, and startled the bright blue kingfisher he’d been pointing at.

“Yeah,” she said, "it's a pretty bird." The brick in her bag made a satisfying crunch when it collided with his skull, and he crumpled to the ground in an agonized, lowing heap. "Shame I left my bird watching guide at home. Can't really tell you much about the feathery bastards myself."

Carpenter would have thought that breaking thirty would have meant her days as a lure were over, but some men just don't know how to stay friends with a woman. He'd seemed like a useful contact to keep in the city, someone to act as an alibi, but, oh well! She knelt down over the man she had brought to the river's edge, grabbing his face to hold it steady. In a single, fluid motion she flicked her pocket knife out of her jacket and began to carve the prayer marks into his forehead to prepare him for sacrifice.

"What are you... Ma-Mallory-" he could barely string together words through the pain. "No, please, I don't-"

"What was that?" Carpenter said, performatively loud. "I didn't quite hear you."

"No," he sobbed. He sobbed even louder when her knife slipped and nicked the bottom of his ear in two. "No, please, stop-"

"No?" Carpenter repeated back. "But we've come all the way out here! I thought you said you wanted to get to know me better, have me really let you in. I'm so smart, and pretty, and what were those other things you said?"

"I'm- I'm-"

Carpenter shook her head, flicking her knife closed and pocketing it again. "You're so insistent, and stupid, and you just trust any little person to tell you where to drive your shiny new car. We can just do this little sacrifice thing as friends, if that makes you feel better. Doesn't really matter to my god what my relation to you is."

Now the sackcloth over his head, rough and coarse. This was one of the open hiding places of worship for her people. Regular people didn't wander out here much, and even if they did, they probably didn't think much of some burlap littered on the floor, or of abandoned stakes meant to hold cages for catching crawdads or crabs. The man was sobbing "no, no, no" still, but she would no more listen to his protestations than he had hers. She dragged him by the collar of his shirt to one of the stakes, first tying his hands with rope, so tight she could already see his fingers turning blue, then fetching the sacrificial fishhooks from her bag, pushing them through the skin of his throat. He thrashed, and the first hook ripped clean of his skin. Carpenter frowned.

"You can either stay still and let me put them through the surface," she growled, "or I can put some force into it and actual skewer you through your windpipe."

And still just his damnable sobbing and screaming. It was giving her a headache. Perhaps she should have put some of the hooks through his damn lips, though she doubted it would have done much to shut him up. And so, Carpenter did as her Nana Glass had done when she was a child, singing to her sacrifice of the Trawler Man's garden beneath the waves, of his two faces that would always watch, of his two mouths that would take and give. The cold water lapped at her thighs, soaking her pants through. The silt kicked up around her sacrifice's panicked feet as he desperately tried to escape the fate he'd paved for himself. She pushed his head gently beneath the water.

"We're close enough to the ocean here," she drawled, "that the tide will rise soon enough to take you to the garden." She let up on his head, and the sackcloth broke the water.

"Mallo-" he blubbered, still choking on water, still dizzy with pain. "No- please, Mallory-"

But Carpenter had already turned, trudging through the water and back to the man's shiny new car, which she supposed could be her shiny new car for now. She paused when she got to the door, looking back just once.

"You know," she called, "you really shouldn't go bothering girls who say no."

Calvin and Hobbes, Calvin, Susie, and More, Knuckle Sandwich

[silveradept]

"We're not dating," Calvin says, but Moe shoves past him to leer at Susie.

"Stop spending your time with that dweeb and hang out with the cool kids, Derkins," Moe says, before Susie's fists knock the wind out of him and she executes a textbook hip throw while he's staggered to get him out of their way.

"And that's why," Calvin says, adding a whistle of appreciation for the technique and the fighting spirit rolling off Susie in waves, "Nice form, Suz."

Re: Calvin and Hobbes, Calvin, Susie, and More, Knuckle Sandwich

[(Anonymous)]

I'm fond of girls who can rescue themselves. Go, Susie!