Title: Don't Look Down
For: mimerki, prompt: bootlaces
It was actually pleasant, Keith had to admit, with no breeze, and an excellent view. But the blood was pooling in his head, and he was fairly sure that was bad. The other Dragons were inside, moderately safer in the gunbattle, than out here on the side of the building.
Keith flexed his leg experimentally. He'd really like to be right-way up again, and helping the others, but if he moved too much, he might fall. He only hadn't fallen yet because his bootlace had caught on some tiny projection on the side of the skyscraper.
Then it slipped free -
Fandom: CoH Sims
Character: Tori (Serling) Nova
For: noreallyidid, prompt: teddy bears
If patriarch Eric Serling had only said the word, everyone would've jumped on Ramon Jeffries at the wedding, and beaten him to a bloody pulp. Tori Nova (nee Serling) knew this without a doubt. The family had become down right clannish; harm one and expect revenge from them all.
She was a bit surprised to discover that she'd been looking forward to the violence, and disappointed when it didn't happen. Thinking on it, she supposed she just had a natural desire to solve things with her fists. Her childhood legacy of mauled teddy bears bore mute, one-eyed testimony to that.
Title: It Happens To The Best Of Us
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
For: imadra_blue, prompt: silver
Squall approached the chair with the same stoic demeanor he showed to everyone and everything else. He'd fought monsters and enemies with that same cold, uncaring look, and he wasn't going to change just for this.
He hadn't wanted to do this, but it was necessary, and finally the entreaties of his friends moved him. He sat down, leaned back, and stared at the ceiling.
All too soon, the white-coated doctor arrived. "Now then," she said, opening Squall's mouth. He refused to make eye contact. "That's a good-sized cavity," she went on. "Do you want a ceramic or silver filling?"
Title: Profit & Loss
Fandom: City of Villains
Character: La Dictatora
For: shewolfe, prompt: notebook
The biggest problem La Dictatora had with her newfound career was the money. Soldiers didn't work for free; when she was still married to El Dictator, she hadn't worried about the cost of anything. That was for little people to worry about.
But now she had to keep track of payments and incoming cash, and she wished she hadn't failed Accounting I at university. She was pretty sure that keeping track of everything in a large notebook wasn't the approved method, either for accountants or villainesses.
She frowned. The "books" weren't balancing. Guess I'll find a rich potential hostage, then.
Title: Technicolor Yawn
Fandom: City of Villains
Characters: Simaster, Darkfire
For: iceraptoress, prompt: jellyfish
"What is that?" Darkfire looked with horror at the bowl of... what was it?
"Shredded jellyfish." Simaster spoke matter-of-factly, as though he prepared jellyfish dishes regularly. "More specifically, it's shredded jellyfish now soaking in a mix of ginger, soy sauce, vinegar, and sugar. My dad and one of his friends came up with it when I was a teenager."
"That's disgusting. Those things are just filter-feeding water balloons." Darkfire backed away from the bowl. "Next you'll be telling me you eat tripe, too."
"Well... remember that French andouille sausage we had last night? ... Ew, not in the kitchen, man!"