the deep moans round with many voices

As always, here is the link to the current ficathon. Come and play! :)

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( 17. )

For silvr_dagger: Star Trek: AOS, Gaila/Uhura, code, written 12/6/16 [AO3 version]

systems analysis (225 words)

The code Gaila writes is designed to help complicated chunks of metal and ceramic machinery (i.e., starships) meet their design specs in the most efficient ways (i.e., not explode by accident), and the code Nyota writes is designed to help complicated chunks of biological machinery (i.e., people) talk to each other so they don't explode their own starships by accident either (and only explode other people's starships as an absolute last resort); which is to say, there's a certain amount of overlap despite most people's apparent confusion at hearing an engineer and a linguist swap technical advice along with innuendo and bilingual puns over lunch.

But this isn't what Gaila says when classmates ask her, in vaguely pitying tones, whether it's hard living with someone whose specialty is such a soft and fuzzy branch of science it might as well be in the humanities (which isn't even true, but engineers can be awfully blinkered, Gaila's learned). Instead, she just smiles and says, "Every person is like a new code problem, and I like hacking -- I'll try hacking you if you have a few hours to spare, and I bet even a brute-force attack on your firewalls will be pretty fun for both of us! -- but Nyota tells me her own variables and commands without forcing me to guess, and that's worth a lot."

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( 18. )

For reeby10: Any, any, for the glory, written 12/6/16

the ethics of duty (150 words)

"For the glory of Calormen, the glory of Tash!" Rabadash cries as he wheels around to face the unexpected reinforcements now pouring over the ridge and down into the meadow at Anvard's feet. Ilgamuth opens his mouth to echo the exhortation, but finds his voice caught stillborn in his chest by conscience: however glory may be defined, by the analyses of philosophers or the aphorisms of poets, he is sure this grubby piece of selfishness and revenge meets none of the criteria.

Nonetheless, an oath is an oath unto death, and although the shame of doing naught to stop this folly will weigh on him forever, to stand aside and leave his sworn brothers' backs unguarded would only compound his errors; in order to tally the cost of this day, they must first survive; and so he draws his sword and follows his prince into battle once again.

-----

Note: This snippet may or may not end up in "A Change of Season" whenever I finally get around to writing that story; until then, it can stand alone as a minor gap-filler for HHB, but it has more layers if you read it in conjunction with the rest of my Out of Season series.

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( 19. )

For runespoor7: Homestuck, Rose Lalonde or Rose/Kanaya, Rose being a huge nerd., written 12/6/16 [AO3 version]

truly an eloquent turn of phrase (225 words)

"I had a dozen sets of these when I was twelve," Rose says as she busily arranges magnetic words on the refrigerator door, "which I mostly used to write and annotate dreadfully pretentious drivel -- the annotations being a passive-aggressive response to the messages of praise and encouragement my mother used to leave beside my creations -- but I dare say I have a better muse these days; perhaps you'd do me the honor of judging whether my literary endeavors have likewise improved."

"Violets are purple, roses are gay, leaves embrace flowers, let's be a bouquet?" Kanaya reads, her tone hovering somewhere between sarcasm and utter bemusement; "I have an intense suspicion that I'm missing a potentially-mocking cultural reference, though as matespritship proposals go, I admit this is oddly charming, in much the same way that a concussed purrbeast wiggler incites tender pity; how could I possibly refuse?"

Rose presses a hand to her forehead and fakes a swoon into Kanaya's arms; "My goodness, darling, don't say such romantic things or I might be quite overcome with passion -- flowers are delicate, you know," she gets out in her most overwrought fake British accent before she can't keep a lid on her giggles any longer and tugs her girlfriend (or fiancée? Kanaya might have been joking, but Rose finds herself surprisingly taken with that idea) down to cuddle on their kitchen floor.

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( 20. )

For silvr_dagger: Inception, Mal & or / any, all that we see or seem, written 12/7/16 [AO3 version]

and, in parting from you now (200 words exactly)

"Hello, Mal," a voice says as she dies, and suddenly the pain is... not gone, precisely, but held aside for a moment, long enough for a conversation and a choice: to move on to wherever souls go when their mortal bodies shatter, or to step sideways and serve as consultant and artist for a world she's seen flickering at the edges of her own, magic curled warily around newfangled science, irrationality woven for its own sake according to its own rules.

Dom still lives; she sees him screaming silently down from the hotel window, eyes wild and hand outstretched as if he could reel back time with only his fingers and his fear; he will eat his own heart with guilt and grief.

"You will play the role that is given to you," the Dream King warns, "and it may not be as his protector," but the choice is no choice at all, and he pays her the respect of assuming she knows her own mind and hushes the raven at his shoulder when it opens its beak to attempt dissuasion; and so Mal takes her new lord's colorless hand and gives the whole of herself over to dreams forever.

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( 21. )

For silvr_dagger: Inception/Sandman crossover, Ariadne & Morpheus or Daniel, forgive us our trespasses, written 12/7/16 [AO3 version]

for thine is the kingdom (300 words exactly)

"Do you mind that we grab pieces of your realm and twist them around for mercenary purposes?" Ariadne asks as she and the pale stranger sit on the tattered, rose-gold edge of a cloud and watch a flock of bats with paint rollers slap a Van Gogh sunset across the scaffolded sky; "I mean, we love your world -- I've never met anyone in dreamwork who wasn't at least halfway addicted to creating a dozen new impossible things on each new job, no matter how down-to-earth they try to present themselves -- but even so, it seems rude and I'm sorry that I can't honestly promise I'd stop if you asked."

"You tell stories, which are always and ever their own justification," the pale stranger says; "I will make the same bargain with you that I have made with all those in your trade: so long as you bring no dreams physically into the waking world--" ("I don't think the PASIV works that way," Ariadne says) "--or humans physically into my realm--" ("I really don't think the PASIV works that way," Ariadne says, before adding, sotto voce, "more's the pity") "--then I have no immediate quarrel with you, and will inform you before taking hostile action should you ever infringe on the natural operation of my realm and the minds temporarily under my care; do you accept those terms?"

"I do, and thank you, your majesty," Ariadne says, and as the dream world fades around her, washed away by the warmth of morning light across her pillow, the scent of Yusuf frying eggs in the kitchen, and the sound of Arthur and Eames arguing cheerfully over their next job options, she hopes her training will let her remember more than a melancholy smile and a fading sense of absolution when she wakes.

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( 22. )

For runespoor7: Naruto, Naruto/Sasuke/Sakura, I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people and we've suffered enough, written 12/8/16 [AO3 version]

a soft epilogue (200 words exactly)

Naruto and Sasuke grab Sakura before she completely exhausts her chakra, and whisk her away to... she's not sure where, really, just that it's warm and clean and has the most comfortable bed she's ever encountered in her life (though that may be mostly the exhaustion talking -- or the two bodies wrapped around her like living blankets).

"We should set an alarm for--" she starts to say through a jaw-cracking yawn, but can't make herself finish the thought; there are a thousand and one things still to do now that the world hasn't ended after all, and on any other day she'd ration out the minimum amount of sleep before diving right back in to work, but right now all she wants is to stay here forever with the people she loves and trusts most in the entire universe -- and who love and trust her in return.

"Never mind, go back to sleep," Sakura manages in response to Naruto's questioning noise and Sasuke's vague grope toward whatever weapon he has hidden under his pillow, and lets herself sink into the whirlpool of dreams, safe in the certainty that finally, finally, they've reached a chance to build a kinder life, together.

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More in a few days, probably. :)

The ficathon itself seems to have petered out, as these things do, but I bookmarked a bouquet of prompts while I was busy with other things and have been filling some now that I have a little breathing space. Only one of these six breaks the three-sentence limit -- yay progress? -- and another is also a double drabble because why not.

As ever, here is the link to the ficathon if you want to play too. :D

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( 19. )

For anonymous: Sailor Moon, Rei Hino, A favorite gemstone of hers had been ruby, written 12/31/15 [AO3 version]

more precious than rubies (125 words)

Rei wondered sometimes, in the quiet watches of the night when she tended the fire and tried to empty her mind of both fear and fury, if any of her childhood likes and dislikes had truly been her own. Rubies, for instance -- her mother had owned a set of ruby teardrop earrings, blood-red stones that flashed with splintered light as if fire burned in their hearts, which Rei had loved to hold up to her own ears and pretend she was a princess; had her love for their color been spontaneous or simply a shadow of lives long lost and yet to come?

She wore her own rubies now, but the gem to which she gave her heart was silver; and that choice, she knew, was real.

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( 20. )

For anonymous: BtVS, Buffy Summers, coloring with a box of crayons and coloring books, written 1/13/16 [AO3 version]

no friend like a sister (300 words)

Buffy buys a coloring book one month after they move to Cleveland, one month after it becomes obvious that she hasn't escaped her unwanted and ill-fitting role as general and president of this slapdash whatever that swallowed her friendships and turned them into a bureaucracy, and starts hiding it inside the notebook she uses to look like she's being productive during meetings; instead, she brings smiling Disney princesses to life with highlighters, watching bright colors bloom into emptiness while she pays just enough attention to ask a question now and then, smile at Xander's jokes, and remind Willow to breathe.

Dawn's the one who catches her -- sneaks behind Buffy's chair on her way back from the kitchen and raises her eyebrows when Buffy doesn't shuffle pages fast enough -- and Buffy winds herself tighter and tighter through the rest of the day until her whole body feels like an electric guitar string, ready to scream at the slightest touch; but nobody comes to confront her and ask if she's feeling all right, if she's lost it, if she truly understands her responsibility she has to help make a better world for all the Slayers called at her orders.

The next day, Dawn breaks into a discussion of real estate and says, "Listen, we've been arguing about all this for weeks and it's stupid; I say if we want to start a school, we should hire people who know how the charter school business works and let the rest of us split up and do what we're actually good at, whether that's magic or translation or, you know, killing vampires and assorted other menaces; and on that note, Buffy and I are moving to Rome as of next Tuesday," and Buffy doesn't think she's ever loved her sister more.

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( 21. )

For samueljames: Star Trek AOS, Gaila/Jim Kirk, she likes making him blush, written 1/14/16 [AO3 version]

but compliments leave us baffled (250 words)

Gaila doesn't make Jim blush for the same reason she embarrasses most other Terrans -- that's a pointed quid pro quo for their blatant species chauvinism, and while Jim's far from perfect, he at least understands that humans are more than the crude stereotypes that other species have enlisted them to play in their own deep-brain livewire taboos -- but she still adores the ipoltu-petal flush that seeps over his cheeks and ears and the way he tries so hard to pretend he's not affected by her words, that other people's opinions can't touch him for ill or for good.

And all she has to do is point out when he's been kind.

Gaila tucks her chin over Jim's shoulder while he and his doctor roommate sit bickering amiably at a dive bar just outside Academy grounds and drawls, in one of the intonations Terrans use to imply sexual gossip, "I heard the most interesting rumor this morning..." -- a calibrated pause, just long enough for his mind to race through all the things she might bring up, both welcome and otherwise -- "that you stayed late to help Ahch Ngirzha clean up his lab space and redo his whole experiment after that sulfuric acid spill yesterday; that was very considerate of you!" she finishes in a completely different tone of voice, and drops a kiss on the tip of Jim's nose to keep herself from laughing as an echo of her favorite flower blooms across his face.

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( 22. )

For betonyb: Hamilton, Eliza/Alexander, Genderswap AU, written 1/15/16 [AO3 version]

thank you for all your service (175 words)

"Elijah Schuyler; it's a pleasure to meet you at last," he says, and, spurred to uncharacteristic daring by the sparkling challenge in the most enchanting eyes he's ever see, drops a kiss to the hand of his elder sister's newest and dearest friend, who has become such a comfort and fixture in Angelica's letters since the evacuation of New York.

"I am sorry it has taken a most grievous and costly war to bring us into the same circles, Lieutenant Schuyler," Alexandra Hamilton says, the gleam in her eyes belying the sober cadence of her voice, "but I confess that in person you live up to all your sister's praise and I must therefore count our meeting nearly as great a blessing for myself as the liberty you are helping to win for our country will be for us all."

Elijah fights down a blush at such an extravagant compliment, and thinks he could happily spend the rest of his life helping this woman receive the respect and admiration that she (like Angelica) self-evidently deserves.

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Note: I have no idea how a female Hamilton ends up in America, let alone in a position to mix socially with the Schuyler family and get invited to one of Washington's winter balls. Let's just call it fate. *handwaves briskly*

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( 23. )

For anonymous: Any, any, There are no cities, no cities to love; It's not the city, it's the weather we love!, written 1/16/16 [AO3 version]

walk off the edge of my own life (275 words)

"Okay, okay, truth," Karen said, shoving herself upright on Foggy's couch and slashing her hand through the air in a barely controlled gesture he had to remind himself not to flinch at; "So, imagine a city -- any city, really, but let's go with Manhattan -- and then, you take all the people and move them to, I don't know, California, and you build them a new city; and at the same time you move a million and a half different people into Manhattan so it's not empty anymore, right, and here's the question: which one do you think is the original city?"

"Oh, boo hiss, don't answer her -- we're too drunk for philosophy, and how is that even meant to be embarrassing?" Foggy complained from the depths of his armchair.

"It's a fair question," Matt said slowly, imagining all the people he tried so hard to protect uprooted and adrift in a strange land, trying to recreate New York, and then imagining a sea of strangers equally adrift in the maze of concrete and steel he'd engraved into his bones, learning to love their new home, "and I think... I think a city isn't only the people or only the buildings and streets, so the answer is neither; but both new cities will carry the ideals and mistakes of the old city into the future, just like we carry our pasts with us no matter how hard we try to escape."

He knocked back his shot of whiskey even though the rules didn't require him to, and pretended he couldn't hear the sudden hitch in Karen's breath or Foggy's aborted attempt to stand and give him a hug.

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( 24. )

For anonymous: Sailor Moon, Makoto Kino, A favorite couple of animals of hers had been horses and tropical fish, written 1/17/16 [AO3 version]

habitat (200 words exactly)

"Thanks for coming with me this afternoon, Mako-chan, even though weird ice cream isn't your thing," Usagi said in a slightly guilty tone as she and Makoto exited Namjatown (Usagi with several takeout orders of gyoza stuffed into her shopping bag) -- and then, brightening, added, "Oh wait, I remember you said once that you used to keep tropical fish; we should visit the aquarium and see what kinds they have, since we're already here and it's only fair to do something you like as well as something I like!"

Makoto glanced reflexively upward toward the roof of the mall, thought about the difference between the untamed ocean and tiny glass tanks made to isolate and display their inhabitants, thought about her frantic efforts to create a balanced ecology in the artificial coral reef she'd had to sell when her parents died (and how many fish had perished from her ignorance), and shook her head.

"Let's go to my place instead, so I can show you one of my nature documentary collection and make you something to go with your gyoza," she said, and thanked fate once again for sending Usagi to rescue her from the tank of her own isolation.

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More to follow, possibly...

Summary: On the night of her many-times-great niece's birth, Aeriel listens to a storyteller in Pirs. (500 words exactly)

Note: This ficlet was written for rosaxx50 as part of a three-sentence meme, in response to the prompt: Darkangel Trilogy, Aeriel. This is not remotely close to three sentences, but I have given up on caring by this point. I'm just writing ficlets. (Well, okay. Not just writing ficlets. I may be terrible at sentence restrictions, but I do all right with word count restrictions. For instance, I don't know if a quintuple drabble is a recognized thing, but if it exists, this is an example. *wry*) [Tumblr crosspost]

[ETA: The AO3 crosspost is now up!]

( When a Princess Royal )

Now I kind of want to figure out what exactly Aeriel needed done west of Terrain, and why Princess Ryllan was the right person for the job.

Summary: Mazikeen and Lucifer in the garden. (200 words exactly)

Note: This ficlet was written for rosaxx50 as part of a three-sentence meme, in response to the prompt: Lucifer/Mazikeen. I keep failing at the three-sentence part, but this one is a double drabble so at least I'm managing some kind of structural restriction... [Tumblr crosspost]

[ETA: The AO3 crosspost is now up!]

( Like a Sinking Star )

I may write the other two prompts as well, just for fun. :-)

Here are six more fills from the current Three Sentence Ficathon, aka "My god, it's full of semicolons!" One of them is five sentences, but shush, at least I'm trying. (Two are also strict-form drabbles, because I just like drabbles, okay.)

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12. For jjhunter: Charlotte's Web, Charlotte A. Cavatica, PWC (penmanship to webmanship conversion), written 2/16/15.

( Needs Must )

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13. For samueljames: White Collar, El/Neal/Peter, Neal wants to submit but a previous Dom(me) ignored his safeword so he is understandably nervous, written 2/18/15.

( Twice Shy )

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14. For rthstewart: Narnia/LotR, Galadriel, Jadis, the price of peace, written 2/20/15.

( Negative Example )

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15. For snickfic: BtVS, Faith/Giles, daggers and sheaths, written 2/21/15.

( Missed Connections )

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16. For alexseanchai: Sailor Moon Classic, Chibiusa, crown, written 2/21/15.

( Rosebuds While Ye May )

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17. For isabelquinn: Narnia, any, Bism, written 2/21/15.

( Further Down and Further In )

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I have one more (much longer) fill that I'm going to post separately because of Reasons. Technically it should be #15, but I'm calling it #18 to keep this post's numbering internally consistent.