Måndag - First Words
Sep. 20th, 2010 09:43 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
cyphersushi.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
comment_ficGood morning everyone and welcome to a new week, I know I know, not always the most fun day of the week but let's do our best to combat that with some awesome tidbits of fic. Todays theme is First Words which means your prompt should contain the first words of the following ficlet. So when you want to fill a prompt you just begin with what the prompter left you and go from there, easy as pie.
The rules are as always as follows:
And some examples:
Have fun and be inspired!
(theme=firstwords)
The rules are as always as follows:
* Only three prompts from a fandom
* Only five prompts in a row
* If one gets filled you can leave a new one
* No spoilers in your prompts until a week after airdate/publication
* If your fill contains a spoiler please warn accordingly and leave spoilerspace.
And some examples:
Torchwood, Jack/Ianto, "What? Tentacles can be very versatile..."
Burn Notice, Michael/Author's choice, The explosion tore a hole in the side of the boat
Leverage/Alice, "Curiouser and curiouser", she thought
Have fun and be inspired!
(theme=firstwords)
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no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 09:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 09:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 09:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 10:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-21 04:04 am (UTC)Eliot turned red. "THAT MUCH!??? YOU LET ME NEAR SOMETHING THAT COULD EXPLODE WHILE I'M NAKED!!!???!!!"
"Dude. The game's called "Shooting stuff while naked." Since when do you not like explosions?"
"Since I have to cover something other than my head you IDIOT!"
"Dude. Do NOT remind me of Bobby while you're naked. That's gross."
"Fucking hunters," Eliot grumbled as he marched back to the car, wearing nothing but his boots.
"Eliot, wait!" Dean called, "You don't like this game, we can play "Wrestling while naked." No guns, promise!"
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 10:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 10:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 10:22 am (UTC)Add It Up
Date: 2010-09-21 07:14 am (UTC)It always seemed like a good idea at the time --- throw her pajamas on, grade some papers, do those ridiculous student evaluations, not spend time alone at the school with that one janitor who smelled like fish and kept trying to make conversation about canned beets --- but for some reason it never seemed to work out.
And while that reason wasn't always her coming home to find that Question had wallpapered her living room with index cards and was busily using up all of her good highlighters, it was usually something along those lines. And hell, if she was really honest this didn't even make the top ten strangest things she'd caught him doing in her living room. “Q?” she said, closing the door before any neighbors could pry. “Baby, am I hallucinating?”
“Depends. How much orange juice from concentrate have you been drinking?”
Huntress slowly counted down from ten. Very, very slowly. “All right, Q. Why don't we start by explaining why my living room looks like an Office Max exploded?”
“Two plus two equals four. Must equal four.”
“...Ooookay. Two plus two equals four. Now what does....”
“Two plus two equals four, but numbers can be imaginary. Numbers can be infinite. Math itself is a created construct, an attempt to impose order....”
Huntress strode up and spun him away from the Gotham map he'd pinned up where her TV used to be (and was that ever a question she was sure she didn't want the answer to). “What is going on?”
He jerked away from her; now that she was close she could see him swaying on his feet, his hair disheveled and matted down over his forehead. She had a sudden flashback to walking in on him spouting crazy talk right before he went to go assassinate Lex Luthor and disappeared down Cadmus' rabbit hozle. “Baby doll, what's going on?” she asked again, turning him to face her again, gently this time. Over his shoulder she saw that the map was studded with push pins connected with thread, wallet-sized photos of schoolgirls lined across the bottom. “Tell me.”
“Five.” His voice rasped more than usual; Huntress wondered how far into dehydration he'd worked himself. “Five abductions, all in the Southland neighborhood. The answer's here, I just can't see it....”
“Five?” She took a closer look at the pictures. “I would have heard about five abductions.”
Question shook his head. “Immigrant families. Undocumented. Afraid to go to the police, just waiting for ransom that never comes.”
She took in the whole disaster of her living room in the context of this new information. “Okay. Okay, you have a case, that's why you came to my apartment and put the file all over my walls and wrote everything in highlighter....”
”The highlighters are vital!”
His shoulders sagged; she knew him well enough to know that he wasn't even sure anymore why they were vital, just that they were. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him through the mask; he was shaking with so much exhaustion she could feel it radiating from him. “Baby, how long have you been on your own with this?”
“...Two weeks.”
Huntress knew that when Question got himself keyed up it did no good to grab him hard by the shoulders and shake him, even though she was always so very tempted. “Q, if you wanted me to help why didn't you just ask me?”
“You had midterms,” he said, with the same shameful tone her students used when they knew they had the wrong answer but had to say something. “You were busy.”
“I am never that busy. Trust me, my kids won't care if I return their papers a day late. Or frankly ever, for most of them. Talk me through what you have and we'll both work this.”
He tangled his fingers through her hair. “I can't find four,” he whispered. “I have two and two, everything's right here, right in front of me but I can't see it.”
Huntress put one finger over where his lips should be. “Shh. We'll find it. Math's my best subject, you know.”
He nodded, pressing his forehead against hers.
It was another week before those papers got graded. While Huntress loved her day job, her night one gave her all the homework she could handle.
Re: Add It Up
From:no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 10:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-13 07:10 pm (UTC)For all your best laid plans, you don't even see the stake coming. You don't have enough time to think, let alone look around, try and catch a glimpse of her one last time.
The worst part, though, is that you die without knowing if she made it. You die not having kept your promise. You die not having made it up to her. You just die.
If you'd gone back and told yourself a year ago that you would die because a weak, pathetic, little human girl just couldn't, you would've laughed yourself sick.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 10:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 10:29 am (UTC)Potions Class
Date: 2010-09-20 10:53 am (UTC)"Probably not," Harry replied with a wary voice as he cautiously spooned up a tiny amount of the potion into a bottle, "But, who cares? Maybe it'll blow Snape's head off"
"Cool!"
Re: Potions Class
From:Re: Potions Class
From:no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 10:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 10:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 10:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 10:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 10:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 10:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 10:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 12:25 pm (UTC)"Yuck, " coughed the hairy little dust bunny and averted it’s delicate blonde sensors. "It looks like a gigantic shaved rat. Or worse, like an amphibian, all pale and... just ewww. I bet it’s slimy. "
"And disgustingly cold to the touch. And look how scrawny it is, with those long, cloven tentacles, nothing soft and round about it at all. It’s disgusting," the big grey dust bunny spat disdainfully.
"Can I look again? " the smaller one asked meekly when the rooms turned dark and the mattress above them squeaked dangerously.
"Yep, it’s in bed.”
Sighing with relief, the wee blonde one cuddled up to it’s big grey friend, taking warmth and comfort from it’s fluffy, warm body.
One more day survived in spite of the giant naked mole rat and it’s friend, the hoover monster, the blonde ball of dust and hair thinks happily before sleep takes it.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 10:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 10:42 am (UTC)On the Death of Friends (Remus/Sirius) Part 1/2
Date: 2010-09-20 02:20 pm (UTC)Sirius looked up from the tome on his lap and put on his best scowl, which was always fairly impressive. Remus, however, had seen it a million times and didn't even blink. He just stood there, arms crossed over his chest and one eyebrow raised, waiting for the inevitable smart remark.
Sirius didn't feel up to making one, for once. The words were starting to go blurry on the page and his back ached from holding the same position so long. He was fairly certain the flower in the headboard had worked marks into his shoulder. "Am I, now?" he asked.
"Honestly, Sirius." Remus gathered up several of the bits of parchment Sirius had been keeping notes on into a stack and moved the mug of tea on the nightstand so he could put them there. "When was the last time you ate? And I mean a real meal, not a handful of something on the run," he said, sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed where the papers had been. "Or the last time you slept, for that matter."
"Recently enough," Sirius said.
Sirius might have a very impressive scowl, but Remus was the one with the remarkably expressive eyebrows. He raised one now, and in doing so informed Sirius that he didn't believe a word of it, that he did, in fact, know damn well that Sirius wasn't providing dates and times because he could no longer remember them, and that he was even less impressed with ole Padfoot's stubbornness than usual. He picked up three of the slimmer volumes at Sirius's feet and stacked them carefully, largest book first.
Sirius rescued his quill before Remus moved on to it and twirled it between his fingers. Remus set the books beside the mug and glowered at it for a moment. "Sirius," he said.
He shook his head. "I gotta get this done, Moony."
"I've barely seen you in the past two and a half days. Which means you haven't been down to the kitchen, and you've probably barely slept. I don't care if you're working on the cure for death, that's not healthy."
Sirius opened his mouth.
"The three days worth of beard on your face makes it kind of difficult to argue with me."
Sirius reached up to feel his cheeks and nearly put the quill in his eye. "Ow," he mumbled, silently cursing. It just gave Remus another thing to cite against him.
Remus reached forward and plucked the quill out of his hand. "Before you hurt yourself more."
"'M fine. Just a little uncoordinated."
Remus snorted. "You have a worse chance of getting me to believe that than I do of becoming Minister of Magic," he pointed out.
He rubbed the corner of his eye. It hadn't really hurt at least; it was only a feather. "It was worth saying. And I'm finally getting somewhere."
Remus rolled his eyes. "There are sandwiches in the kitchen. And then you're going to get a few hours' nap, and it will all come together in your sleep because you're a bloody genius like that. And it'll be all I can do to get you into the shower before you go roaring over to Order Headquarters to jabber excitedly at the nearest Auror."
"Mmm." Sirius looked back at the book. If he concentrated, the old-style script was still readable and the sentences still mostly made sense. His notes had probably stopped being sensible hours before, but they had never been great in the first place. "Sleep's not in the charts," he mumbled.
Remus put a hand on Sirius's knee and squeezed a little, drawing Sirius's eye from the page back to him. "This isn't about the research," he accused.
On the Death of Friends (Remus/Sirius) Part 2/2
From:Re: On the Death of Friends (Remus/Sirius) Part 2/2
From:Re: On the Death of Friends (Remus/Sirius) Part 2/2
From:no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 10:45 am (UTC)Filled: Burn Notice
Date: 2010-12-22 05:07 am (UTC)'Don't worry. It'll be over soon..” He cocked his gun. “One way or another.'
no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 10:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 10:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 10:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 10:56 am (UTC)No fic
Date: 2010-09-21 05:34 pm (UTC)If I do end up writing it: do you mind book!verse?
Re: No fic
From:Re: No fic
From:Re: No fic
From:no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 10:57 am (UTC)