Thanks for the tag @a-noble-dragon
Rules: share the first lines of ten of your latest fanfics (or less if you have fewer) and then tag others.
Sleep Mode: When we first left the torus, I was watching the scanners, alert to any pursuit.
Fever: So I found out that I can turn my body temperature up, but I can't turn it down.
Honeymoon: I'd been looking forward to the cargo run with ART because dealing with the humans was even more exhausting after the whole fever incident.
Reproduction: My first voyage on ART that included non-crew students ended with a party.
A Day to Forget: So, we'd wrapped up our mission on the planet.
Rogue Rumors: "Reading between the lines, they're saying a rogue SecUnit escaped from Port FreeCommerce," says Nefret.
Security Threat: Santa Claus: ART got bored one day and decided to sort through my media library.
It Has Been 01 Missions Since SecUnit Ended up in Medical: Status, ART demanded as we ran toward the shuttle.
Monsters: We were 91% certain before setting foot on the planet that all of the colonists were dead.
Fairest of Them All: Once there was a wealthy and powerful man known as Lord Terrence, and he had a magic mirror.
That was fun! No-pressure tagging: @edupunkn00b, @irbsandcheese, @securityunit-ese, @tinybowties, @babydollbucky, @imitationgame77, @gamebird
I am excluded meta and shared/co-writing projects. All are The Murderbot Diaries except the first one, which was written years ago but only published recently.
Bricks in the Wall, chapter 141 (it's a collection of Heroes one-shots, started well before I understood how 'series' worked on AO3): Peter surveyed the bed – empty at the moment. The sound of running water in the bathroom let him know that Sylar was cleaning up to an unusual degree.
Agonal Stage: The human died in my arms. At first, the slackening of the muscles might have been unconsciousness (understandable, given the lacerations and punctures Hostile One had inflicted on her before I'd managed to extract her from its mouth).
Agape: I think I was in love with humans. Like Charleh said, it was the only explanation.
Cold Hands, Warm Hearts: Amena paused in munching the nuts that topped her breakfast of uji. Her interface was showing her an alarming notification for the weather forecast on the west coast of the southern continent.
A Weird, Fucked Up Way: My proximity and attention were required for this. My participation aside from that was not.
First Impressions: I was wadded up in the usual transport box when I woke for my new assignment. I was supposed to immediately reference the client list, project scope, location, and that sort of thing.
The Expected Order: The Target snarls at my Client, "Tell it to shut down or I blow your brains out!" I run some quick calculations.
Bodyswapped: I woke in a flesh prison, memory limited, no media storage. I hurt all over and my pain control didn’t even exist.
You Construct Intricate Rituals: I sat on his thighs, my lower leg tucked under his ankles. He floundered on the bed, or would have if he could.
Knot Today: The thing about a knot is that it depends on the omega to hold the fucker in there. An alpha might think they’re hot stuff, knot so big that no amount of struggle on the omega’s part would allow escape from the breeding.
Tagging: @rosewind2007 @penig
Another Boring Trip in Another Boring Wormhole. It’s a well-crafted false identity, I’ll give you that.
And the Galaxy Kept on Spinning. Ayda looked down at the figure on the bed, a small withered woman in near-darkness, sandwiched between the kind of portable MedSys hospitals loaned to families for long-term care, and SecUnit: holding her hand, distant-eyed, half of itself deep in the MedSys, trying to make something go right as if the world depended on it.
Meddlebots. I didn’t mean to go looking for Gurathin’s “Mom,” okay?
A Little Help Among Friends. Gurathin was a rock during the dreadful, disorienting days after SecUnit went off to check the perimeter.
Secrets. “SecUnit says they need you for this thing they’re doing,” said Ratthi.
Blood Won't Tell. Pepper jolted awake at the end of a fall.
Third Act Turn. The bell tinkled merrily as Muriel herded their new friends out the door to introduce them to the delights of coffee shops, and then it was just the two of them, and silence, and the moonlight through the oculus.
The Dear Diaries. Muriel wasn’t sure how it had come about that they’d started making monthly reports to Crowley.
Between Tick and Tock. Tick.
Blood of the Lamb (and Other Sacrifices). Aziraphale and the Serpent, unseen, stayed behind as three strong men rolled a stone across the door, lest wild beasts or wicked men disturb the body before the Sabbath passed and the women could return to prepare it for its final rest.
@nerianasims,@tanoraqui,@katatty,@lyricwritesprose, @ao3cassandriac, @katzedecimal
Roots Down In The Dark. I don't like kids.
That Went All Right, I Think? Right. I could do this. I could do this.
Vestibule. There was nothing to do but sit.
What I Did Last Summer, By Kwasi (Age 5) What I did last summer, by Kwasi. Only sort of—this fic is more or less in comic form, with very few words.
Hell. When I woke up, I knew exactly what I was and what I could do. Please mind the warnings on this fic, it is about the early education of a new SecUnit and "early education," basically amounts to torture.
Origin Point. "I'm almost sure this is engineered somehow," I said dubiously, looking at the bird we'd picked up from the campus animal rescue to keep Klaxon company. Note: this is the second story in a series.
Roommates. I was going to go completely loopers.
Hostile One Versus Security Consultant Rin. I had never lost anyone on a survey I led.
Not the Original Premise. It's obviously love.
My Captain Is Here. Ayda hadn't moved much since they took off. Please mind the warnings on this one, too.
Noticing as I go through this that I tend strongly towards short starting sentences, which is interesting. Anyway, anyone want to consider themselves tagged?
