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More three sentence fics!

Synonym, for the prompt Guardians of the Galaxy, any, misfits

Rocket waves, though the movement threatens to overbalance the grenade launcher balancing precariously on his shoulder, “See you later, savages,”

“Ravagers,” corrects Yondu.

Rocket shrugs, “Same thing.”

 

Striptease, for the prompt Any, any, that wasn’t supposed to happen

“Come on,” Rey says, “Show us.”She doesn’t expect Poe to agree, and they’re both surprised when the pilot turns his back, shimmies out of his shirt, sheds his clothing piece by piece to a slowly whistled accompaniment, and dives into their bed wearing just a sock on his left foot.

“If you-if
either of you-tell anyone I just did that,” he says to Finn, “I’ll kill you.”

 

Harder,better.faster.stronger, for the prompt Mass Effect, Saren, hello darkness

Saren groans as Sovereign’s machines strip out his nerves, draining blood and lymph and layering his muscles with carbon nanotubes. The wires twine inside him. Sovereign, sensing his distress, injects sophorics, and Saren welcomes sleep.

 

Safety Starts At Home, for the prompt Mass Effect, Shepard (either gender)/Garrus Vakarian, scars

“What about this one?” says Shepard, stroking the turian’s scars, “Thresher maw?”

Garrus winces. “Walked into the damn bathroom cabinet.”

 

Employment, for the prompt any/any, someone accepting that having made mistakes makes them stronger because failure has taught them caution and mortality

“...all that disability discrimination bullshit.”

Malik pauses on the far side of the door, hand curling into a fist. He has long accepted his mutilation as the price of a past and painful lesson in caution, but as he hears glass shatter inside the room, he reflects that Altaïr has not shared his experience. 

 

Falsehood, for the prompt any/any, someone making excuses, which only pisses off the person they’re trying to justify themselves to..

Marîd’s explanation stuttered to a halt as Malik held up his hand. “The ability to lie effectively is not a tenet of the Creed, but it is a necessary aspect of our work. Marîd, report to Rafe for weapons practice, and next time you lie to me, make it something I’ll believe.”

 

Best Seat in the House, for the prompt Mass Effect, Shepard & Anderson last scene 

“You did good, son,” Anderson says, “you did good, I’m proud of you.” His head slumps onto his chest as his eyes fix on the horizon, smiling at the endless stars. Shepard never lives to find the drawer full of letters Anderson addressed, but did not send, and the captain never had the chance to tell Shepard where to find them.

     

 

communi_kate: (Default)
 Fics written for the three sentence ficathon-thanks to [personal profile] caramelsilver for hosting!

Poetry, for the prompt Game of Thrones: Littlefinger/Sansa Stark, when he’s away he writes her every day

Petyr Baelish is no poet.

He is a clerk, and he writes like a clerk; meticulously, each sentence a mathematical process totalling to an inevitable conclusion. Dearest Sansa, he writes, ending the letter Thinking of you with great affection, because he is a clerk and a cynic, and he cannot admit love.


Suck Squeeze Bang Blow, for the prompt BSG, Kara/Lee, mechanics

They make love in the shelter of a Viper engine as wide as Lee is tall. The engine is greasy with oil when they press their hands against it, slick and curved in all the right places. Kara’s heart beats like a four-stroke in her chest as Lee slides into her, hips pistoning, and she wishes she knew love like she knows engines, a simple mechanism that she could understand.


Lift us up, o lord, that we may see further, for the prompt Firefly, Book, still flying

The crew stand together at the port and watch the ship sail into the black.  As her engines shrink to stars Mal turns to River, who has the keenest sight, and she shades her eyes, peers into the distance, and says “He’s gone.”

They are just about to turn away when she whispers, “Somewhere, he’s arrived.”


Things Could Be Worse, for the prompt Musketeers, Porthos/Flea, relationship.

“We walk in different worlds,” Porthos says gravely, but the sentence isn’t quite as convincing as it sounded in his head.

“Last time I looked, the Court of Miracles was still a part of France,” Flea tilts her head, dirty blonde hair cascading onto her shoulders. “Now if you were English, that would be a different tale.”

 

Closing Time,  for the prompt Force Awakens/Sucker Punch, that AU where Poe pays his way through flight school by moonlighting at the cabaret 

The tips are lousy tonight. Poe Dameron’s pockets are light as he crosses the street towards the transit, humming a song he’s got to have word-perfect by tomorrow. As he passes between the spotlights of the streetlamps he gazes at the bleached-out sky and remembers something he heard someone say: we are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars. 

 

Drowned Ships, for the prompt Pacific Rim, Mako & Stacker, into the deep

Strange things drown within the deep; wrecked ships, and fish with phosphorescent eyes. Mako treads carefully as silt clouds the water around their Jaeger’s feet. She sees the dark shape of Striker Eureka at her side and wonders what it would be like to never see the sun. 

Ensnared, for the prompt Secret of Kells, Aisling, I am no bird and no net ensnares me

The fibres of the net are smeared with bird-lime, and they trap her wings. Aisling shifts into a wolf and crashes through the net, tearing small holes into larger ones. Though she has no voice in this form, she thinks it will take more than that as she runs into the forest, and the huntsmen get the message.


Radiator, for the prompt Mad Max: Fury Road, any, thirst

When Max reaches the village, they’ve poisoned the well. Smears of rainbow scum float on the black water. He waits a decent amount of time before he unscrews his radiator cap and siphons out a measured handful of water, enough to keep him moving and alive.

 

How to survive spaceflight, for the prompt Star Wars, Poe & BB-8, I can always talk to you

BB-8 often wishes it could talk.

Poe Dameron can-and does-talk fluently in seven galactic languages, once for three days straight and sometimes in complete sentences.

BB-8 has so much dirt on Poe Dameron, it is unbelievable.

 

Do you want to hear about the deal I’m making? for the prompt MCU, Loki/Jane, deal with the devil 

“This is not how it works,” protests Loki.

Jane poises her pen over the paper, which is also a tablet of stone and a book with golden clasps and a sheet of rune-engraved ice. “Of course it is,” she says, eyes stinging from three sleepless nights, “Now let’s review the contract.”


Dustland Fairytale, for the prompt Mad Max: Fury Road, any, Wasteland songs

Furiosa does not sing. As for Max, he barely makes any sound at all. But on clear nights they climb the pillars and listen to the people’s songs flying ‘cross the wasteland like a banner; we are still here, and this is still our home. 

 

Love The Way You Lie, for the prompt The Musketeers, Athos/Milady, These days he doesn’t know if it’s love or hate that he feels

Athos rips her portrait from the frame and weeps as he glues it back. Over time, the glue weakens and the canvas doubles over, folding until the crown of Milady’s painted head touches her glossy décolletage. Athos does not mend the portrait, but he often wakes wishing that he’d saved it from the fire.

 

If all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail, for the prompt Star Wars, Ben/Poe, a shell of yourself 

“I could strip away everything you are,” Ren hisses as he drags Poe’s head back by the hair, “leave you a shell of yourself, can’t fly, can’t even walk, would you like that?”, and despite himself Poe looks past the black clothes and the mask and sees a kid younger than he is, a kid with too much power and not enough control.

“If you could,” he says, struggling to keep his voice even, “you would have done it already.”

He hears Ren growl behind the mask as his anger ignites, and knows he’s right; knows that Ren’s no torturer, that there’s no finesse there and no precision, but then Ren’s rage punches through the Force and into Poe, and Poe’s knowledge is no comfort, for he has no defences left.

 

Dirge, for the prompt Imperial Radch, Justice of Toren, the ship that would not stop singing

Justice of Toren does not balk at bringing civilisation to the masses. That is justice, after all. But secretly she wonders if the Radch-if Anander Mianaai- will only halt expansion when the whole universe sings the same sad song.   

communi_kate: (Default)

X-men, Nightcrawler~Wolverine, take me to church, for luckweaver

The Elder Congregation

To Kurt’s surprise, Wolverine remembers when to stand up and when to sit down, and even recognizes some of the more complicated Catholic liturgies, and to his even greater surprise the same tiny female pensioners who gave Kurt a hard time for being German back when he first joined just seem to love Canadians. It takes Kurt half an hour to disentangle Wolverine from the lavender-scented clutches of the elder congregation, and when he’s done his friend just looks at him and growls. “Never speak of this again.”

 

Star Trek, Kirk/Bones, the inevitable, for luckweaver.

Another Word for Inevitable is Fate

“Do you believe in destiny?”

It’s not Jim’s best chat up line, or even, sad to say, his worst, and Bones looks at him as if he’s crazy. “Of course not,” he says, “I believe in science.”

 

Greek Mythology, Hades/Persephone, and I'm thrashing on the line/somewhere between desperate and divine, for vialethe

Truths

“I wish I was a mortal woman,” she tells him in anguish and fear, because if she was mortal he might not want her.

“You don’t,” he says, eyes hooded. “I should know.”

 

Greek Mythology, Cassandra/Apollo, Tell you miserable things after you are asleep, for vialethe

A Little Sun

Cassandra cannot hate him conscious, and so she tells soft truths when he’s asleep. She speaks of exactly how he will be forgotten, how the sun itself will be measured and mapped by sharp-eyed men, its power tamed, how somewhere, two thousand years from now, someone will name a plane for their mother and drop a bomb that decimates a land to win a war. “A little sun.”

 

Marvel, Jane/Thor, witty banter

What Passes As Wit These Days, for unknown

“And then, she says, “you push him off, and say something like ‘have a nice trip’.”

“That’s not witty, that’s psychopathic.”

She shrugs, “To each their own.”

communi_kate: (Default)
...half way and sixty pages through the epic fic of epicness that A Thousand Days is turning out to be. But who cares! BRING ON THE FIC.

Three Sentence Ficathon
communi_kate: (Default)
This is great! I love fic challenges, but tend not to prompt myself, so I'm getting into it. None of these are what I would have written, and that is wonderful!

Game of Thrones, Daenerys, I am a lighthouse in a desert and I stand alone, filled by [livejournal.com profile] silvr_dagger 

She sees it while crossing the Waste, a stone tower standing on the crest of a hill, overlooking a cracked and barren plain. A lighthouse, Jorah tells, relic of oceans long gone dry; the khalasar mutters of haunted ground, and she leads them quickly onward, unwilling to disturb this land's ghosts - but she looks back as she passes and shivers to see it keeping its vigil there, stern and lonely and entirely useless.
It strikes her as a cruel fate, for something meant to light the way, and it seems then as though she cannot put it behind her soon enough - but in the desert of Mereen, she dreams that she stands on a promontory above receding waters to watch the world change beyond reckoning, crowns cast down and empires toppled, and she wakes alone to dust in her throat and the knowledge that she cannot put it behind her at all.

 

Dragon Age, Varric, writers are liars, my dear, filled by [livejournal.com profile] classicslover 

Some people never learned not to play Wicked Grace for actual money when Varric was getting ready to publish. Those in the know avoided his legendary poker face. When it was brought to his attention, usually by Aveline, complaining that he had cheated them, Varric simple laughed and explained that fiction was in his blood.

The Hobbit, Thorin Oakenshield, by night all cats are grey, filled by [livejournal.com profile] nessaniel

Glory has died here, long ago, he had seen it go up in brash gold flames and some ashes are probably best left for the wind to scatter across the lands.
There is no king under the mountain anymore, Thorin thinks, as he looks at his fellowship of lost souls, tinkers, toy makers and strays.
This is all he has, this is all he is: a king of cats.


Assassin's Creed, Altair, scandent, filled by [livejournal.com profile] backland

Altaïr climbs, as he was born and bred to; trained and honed and disciplined enough that he reached the Master class sooner than anyone else before him, though it never felt like a grand achievement, just another step in the ladder, and maybe that's why when it all came crashing down and he was a novice again it never felt like that much of a shock, because Altaïr knows how to climb down too, knows all the ways that your foothold can slip and sending you tumbling down.
He climbs so that he may bring people with him, clutching at his back, kicking and screaming in their fear of the unknown, of breaking away from the common denominator that keeps them chained to the muck and inequalities and utter unfairness of it all, because it's all they've ever known, yet still Altaïr climbs, because he has risen above and seen what awaits at the uppermost point of humanities potential.
Altaïr changes lives, changes history, and to do so he steps over himself, his hopes and dreams and desires, digs his fingers and the soles of his feet into them and pushes them down so that he may keep going, getting just that much higher, and with each centimeter gained he gets farther and farther away from them until he is so high up that he can no longer see them at all.


communi_kate: (Default)
It's that time of the year again folks, so head on over and start writing some stories...

Photobucket


For [livejournal.com profile] adraekh , ASOIAF/Harry Potter, Malfoy/Joffrey, dueling.

Malfoi

"Malfoy," said Joffrey with a smirk. "Isn't that Tyroshi for bad faith?"
Think my name's funny, do you?" said Draco, and drew his wand. 

For [livejournal.com profile] licoricealsorts , FF9, Vivi, fire.

Incantations

"How do you do that?" asks Zidane as he runs his fingers across the hole Vivi burned into the ice, reaching into the dripping aperture to scoop up a vial of ether.
Vivi shrugs.
He watches Zidane's warm breath smoke in the air and wonders why they all hold fire within them but only he can cast it out.

For [livejournal.com profile] adraekh , myth, Gilgamesh, regret.

The Hymn of Gilgamesh

The kingdom of Uruk is yours, Gilgamesh. our deeds are mighty, Gilgamesh, your buildings magnificent, your triumphs spectacular, you surpass all other kings, O Gilgamesh.
The guilt is yours, Gilgamesh, your lamentations silent, Gilgamesh, your quest is worthless, Gilgamesh; your hands are blood from the death of Enkidu.


communi_kate: (Default)
I love unexpected Christmas gifts. This Christmas I got a card from the UK that was especially touching simply because it came completely out of the blue. Likewise, I submitted my Pacific Rim Secret Santa fic weeks ago, and it's been busy at work and...you know.

So it was especially great to receive this fic 'Birthdays and Years' from an anonymous benefactor in exchange. It's a great story which can be summed up as 'It takes a Shatterdome to raise a child.' Go read, leave comments and kudos, and take a moment to read the other stories in the exchange.

Oh bugger.

Oct. 21st, 2013 07:34 pm
communi_kate: (monkey)
 Dammit-I missed Yuletide signups. :(

OH REAL LIFE WHY DO YOU CONTINUALLY DIVERT MY ATTENTION FROM FUN THINGS LIKE FANDOM AND WRITING AND FRUSTRATE ME WITH THINGS LIKE CHARITY FITNESS CHALLENGES AND NEW CAR TYRES AND WORK?*

In related news, if anybody knows of any fic challenges at the moment, please feel free to sling them my way. Ta.**

"And 50kg aggressive Rottweilers with chronic incontinence who need abdominal radiographs.

**Nothing too demanding please. I've got half of the sequel to Length of God's Patience to write and that one AU story where Kadar is saved from the Temple of Solomon, joins the Templars and romances Robert De Sable, all while helping them to find the location of the Jerusalem Bureau, whose head is, of course, Malik. Fun times.  

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