Free For All Friday!
May. 14th, 2010 08:35 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_ficCan you belive it? It's a Friday again! To celebrate this awesomeness it is time for the weekly Free For All. You all know the drill, let your minds run free as long as you keep to the rules:
Examples:
Have fun, be nice and write, write, write!
* Three Prompts per fandom at a time
*Max 5 prompts in a row
*If one of your prompts are filled you are free to prompt more
*Be careful not to spoil, especially in these finale-filled times. If you are wondering if your prompt is a spoiler it probably is so wait a week. If you put a spoiler in a fic warn clearly and with a good spoilerspace.
Examples:
Castle, Castle/Esposito, Seeking comfort
Leverage RPS, Timothy Hutton/Christian Kane, after-ski
Leverage/Justified, Eliot Spencer/Raylan Givens, Dust, sweat, sex and bourbon
Castle/Firefly, Castle/Simon, Not quite right (but good enough to soothe the pain)
Have fun, be nice and write, write, write!
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no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 06:37 am (UTC)No fic, but...
Date: 2010-05-14 09:31 am (UTC)YES. THIS.
We need a writer here STAT.
Re: No fic, but...
From:Re: No fic, but...
From:Re: No fic, but...
From:REDO! part 1 - FRM (slash, incest, blasphemy?)
From:REDO! part 2 - FRM (slash, incest, blasphemy?)
From:REDO! part 3 - FRM (slash, incest, blasphemy?)
From:Re: REDO! part 3 - FRM (slash, incest, blasphemy?)
From:Re: REDO! part 3 - FRM (slash, incest, blasphemy?)
From:Re: REDO! part 3 - FRM (slash, incest, blasphemy?)
From:Re: REDO! part 3 - FRM (slash, incest, blasphemy?)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 06:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 06:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 06:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 06:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 06:44 am (UTC)More Than You Get
Date: 2010-05-29 06:15 pm (UTC)He said that love would change him and it has.
For better or for worse, they’re in this together, rolling on through the apocalypse on a never-ending cart of devotion.
Re: More Than You Get
From:no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 06:53 am (UTC)circadian rhythms.
Date: 2010-05-14 03:46 pm (UTC)Lisa is warm. She's soft round the edges and her hair tickles his nose when they touch in the night. (He's not used to sleeping in the same bed as another person, and he falls asleep waiting for that peculiar rasp-tickle that Sam always had when he was deep asleep.) Lisa bakes him apple pie, when he's had a bad day (or nightmares of the Pit, but this time, it's Sam who has a starring role, not himself), and she kisses him goodnight.
He has a son (sort of), and he tries to do everything his father would never have dreamed of, because he's beginning to realise the value of normalcy. (The weapons are cleared out of the trunk of the Impala to make room for sports kit and shopping bags. To begin with, he keeps a gun in his waistband and Ruby's knife tucked down his boot, but after a while, that stops, too.)
Dean tries to call Chuck, once. He doesn't get an answer.
(Sometimes, when they're at dinner or he's alone in the front room, the streetlamp outside the house flickers out, and he thinks he can see someone standing in the shadows, watching. But the light comes back, after a moment, and there's nothing there but shadows.)
♥
Re: circadian rhythms.
From:no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 06:56 am (UTC)SPOILERS for finale, gennish, PG
Date: 2010-05-14 07:27 pm (UTC)Lucifer paces around the edges of the cage while Sam rests deep within. Michael stands in the center, turning to keep his eyes on his brother, arms crossed and expression either annoyed or angry, Lucifer's not sure. Probably both.
Michael doesn't speak. Lucifer keeps silent.
Time passes and finally Sam unfurls from his sleep, taking control with ease.
"He wasn't lying, you know," Sam says, stretching.
Michael doesn't respond. Adam's burning out like the poor bastard Lucifer wore before Sam, and Sam walks over to him, looks him in the eye. "Can you let Adam go?" Sam asks softly.
Michael flicks him a glance. "Adam is in Heaven," he says.
Sam sighs in relief. "Good," he says. "That's good."
Turning away, he recedes again. Maintaining control is hard, with Lucifer filling every part of him.
Lucifer gazes at his brother, looking past the shell. So long without seeing Michael, away from the wonders and glories of Heaven, and just being near Michael's grace...
"You would have won," Michael says suddenly. "I should have stood with you, and you would have won when I didn't."
Lucifer smiles, and deep inside, Sam shifts, missing his brother.
Re: SPOILERS for finale, gennish, PG
From:Re: SPOILERS for finale, gennish, PG
From:no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 12:03 pm (UTC)"I don't understand, Dean."
"It's dancing, Cas. It seems kind of girly, but I hear it can be fun. Never got the chance to try, never really went to any school dances, never stuck around long enough in one place." Dean sighs, bites his lip, muscles past the memories of a childhood that was never a childhood.
"With the not-pocalypse out of the way I figure this is as good a time as any to find out. So just put your hands on my back and shuffle to the damn music."
Castiel tilts his head, a recognizable you-strange-humans movement, before sliding his arms around Deans waist and swaying to the slow beat.
Rather, he attempts to sway as he tramples Dean's toes and fails to follow any sort of lead for the first few minutes.
"I'm afraid I'm doing this wrong."
"No, man, you're fine. It's not like we're auditioning for Strictly Ballroom. It's just us, no one to impress."
This seems to satisfy Castiel as he nods once and rests his cheeks against Dean's, stubble scratching on stubble, noting the slight hitch in Dean's breath when he does; he smiles, says nothing.
They tilt themselves to and fro, slowly flattening a small circle of grass underneath their shoes. At some point, one of Dean's hands had slid into Castiel's hair; it's still there, cradling the angel's head as Dean puffs warm air against his cheek. Castiel's arms are pressed firmly around Dean, steady and strong, and Dean feels... maybe it's safe, maybe it's content, maybe it's just a damn chick-flick moment, but he doesn't care.
They were right, dancing can be fun.
-- -- -- -- -- --
"Dean... Dean, the music stopped several minutes ago."
"Yeah. I know. Do you wanna let go?"
"No, Dean. I'd like to stay"
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Date: 2010-05-14 07:21 am (UTC)...bonus if pregnant/mamabear!Sam is the scariest damn thing the Winchesters (past self included) have ever seen on the battlefield.
No Fic Yet
Date: 2010-05-14 03:34 pm (UTC)Give me a bit and I'll see what I can come up with.
Differences
From:no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 07:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 07:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 07:26 am (UTC)...bonus if they *weren't* female before all of this.
no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 07:26 am (UTC)Inside And Out
Date: 2010-05-16 03:18 am (UTC)"On my heart?" Sam's surprised he can form words at all, half out of his mind between the mouth on his chest and the cock in his ass, Gabriel somehow nailing his sweet spot with every damned thrust.
"Around it, over it. Not quite like your ribs, but gently. Woven in, where nobody but me could ever see it. Don't know who or when, but it's my name. My name, right here." Gabriel's voice is low and fierce, muffled into Sam's skin. He props up on his elbows and slips his hands under Sam's shoulderblades and puts his back into it, and Sam gasps as the angle puts happy friction on his cock, caught between their bellies.
"So I've always…" He loves Gabriel, he does, and he won't take that back for anything, but God, has he never had any choice at all?
Gabriel leans up and kisses him hard. "No. Sam, no, it's protection, it's – potential, of a sort, a buffer to help against the blood, but it's not – it doesn't control you," he pants, and Sam blinks, because there's truth and fear and – God, love in Gabriel's amber eyes. "If you like me, Sam Winchester, it's your own damn fault. I've got no claim but what you give me."
There's no doubt in Sam's mind, no uncertainty at all. Sam peels his hands off of Gabriel's ass, digs them into the archangel's sweaty hair and kisses him now, every bit as hard. "Then claim me," he hisses against Gabriel's mouth. "Make it official, because you are not leaving me. Not again."
Amber flares into bright, shimmering gold. "Sam."
Climax slams him so hard Sam can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything but shatter under the kind of pleasure he never imagined could exist and possibly won't survive. The room goes white. And then everything goes dark.
When Sam's aware of anything again, it's that he's sprawled half on top on Gabriel, breathing in the smells of sweat and something like cocoa and mint, and Gabriel's fingers are in his hair. "Mmf," he manages, and tries to move because Gabriel's strong and all, but Sam's a big guy and he knows it.
"Don't think you want to do that," Gabriel murmurs in his ear, arm tightening around Sam's waist, and a second later Sam gets why.
"Ow," he complains. "Why's my shoulder blade hurt?"
"Because that's where my hand was when I took you up on your offer."
It takes a few moments for that to percolate through the sex endorphin haze, but when it does, Sam smiles. "Stuck with me now."
Gabriel practically melts under him, and kisses his ear. "Poor poor pitiful me, whatever will I do?"
Re: Inside And Out
From:Re: Inside And Out
From:no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 07:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 11:10 am (UTC)Castiel shifted forward and Dean could practically feel the breath spill from Castiel's lips onto his own, could see the varying shades of jewel-blue in Castiel's eyes. Being grilled by the little nerdy dude was always a bit unnerving. Always a little exciting too, if he was being honest with himself.
Wait, Castiel had been asking something.
Of course Dean felt it. Thought maybe it was what good health was like, that God was slipping holy Wheaties into his diet when he wasn't looking or some shit like that. It was simpler, easier to believe nonsense or ignore it rather than accept the subtle evidence every time he noticed himself getting stronger and Castiel getting weaker.
Easier than accepting that this was probably all his fault. Somehow. Damnit.
Hey, who couldn't use a little extra guilt, though? Yeah.
So he knows. Before Castiel said the words, he knew.
"My grace, it's been channeling itself into you. My expulsion from Heaven, my inability to 'recharge the batteries', as it were, puts too great a strain on my grace. Thankfully the connection forged while raising you from perdition is more powerful than I'd anticipated; you now serve as an emergency grace receptacle."
Awesome, angel mojo. Siphoned angel mojo. Swimming around in his body. Just perfect. At least it wasn't his fault. Score one for Dean.
"OK, Cas? Don't call me a receptacle. Makes me feel like a damn trash can." Dean scowls. "Though I guess that's what I am now. Look, uh, I don't like the idea of being a grace bucket, and you need this mojo back, so can't we..." He gesticulates uselessly. "Can't we just pour it back in or something?"
Maybe it's just that easy.
"It isn't that easy."
Shit.
"Well spit it out, Cas. What do we need to do?"
Castiel shifts again, tilts his head forward in some sort of aborted movement, pauses to ask "Dean, will you trust me to take it back? I won't harm you."
Dean rolls his eyes dramatically. "Cas, as long as you don't have to dig it out of my chest, just get on with whatever you -- "
Castiel pushes his lips against Dean's swiftly, gently, disregarding the shocked "Mmph!" as he slides his tongue between Dean's lips, seeking entrance.
Dean wasn't sure what the fuck was going on, but hell yes he was on board. A hot, curious, twisting tongue was opening his mouth, slipping inside, sliding and tangling with his, and Dean almost forgot there was a bigger issue at hand until a surge of heat, a rush of searing, flowing, liquid something, boiled up from his gut, his lungs, his throat and flooded into Castiel.
In a panic Dean scratched at Castiel's trench coat, clawing and pushing. Castiel dragged Dean flush against him, secured his hands on either side of Dean's face, and deepened the kiss as the flow of energy ebbed and slowed.
Dean relaxed considerably.
-- -- -- -- --
It could've been minutes or hours later, Dean wasn't sure. He felt a little too dizzy to make that kind of call. Panting into Castiel's mouth, sharing air as Castiel panted back, Dean pried his eyes open, chuckled and asked "Did it really need to take that long?"
Castiel grinned against Dean's lips.
"No."
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Date: 2010-05-14 07:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 07:30 am (UTC)Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night
no fic
Date: 2010-05-14 07:31 pm (UTC)Re: no fic
From:Re: no fic
From:no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 07:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 07:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 07:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 07:40 am (UTC)Yami no Matsuei, Muraki/Tsuzuki
Date: 2010-12-11 04:33 pm (UTC)Pain was purifying, and given the amount of pain Muraki had subjected Tsuzuki to for the past two days, the shinigami started to wonder if his sins had been purged, his sinful soul cleansed. But he doubts that: no matter how much of his blood was shed, no matter how much Muraki cut him or cut him open, violating his flesh with a blade or his hands, the deaths on Tsuzuki's head could not be atoned for.
But there was someone who could be forgiven, even thanked, despite the futility of these actions.
The pain had diminished; Tsuzuki opened his eyes, looking up at his tormentor as the pale man set to work cleaning the blood from his scalpels and his hands.
"Muraki... I forgive you," Tsuzuki murmured.
His enemy paused in his work, turning to Tsuzuki, his good eye wide with surprise behind his silvery-grey mane, his blood-spattered face puzzled. "Could you repeat that?"
Tsuzuki turned his head, coughing and spitting blood. "I forgive you. For what you've done to me and what you're doing to me now."
Muraki turned back to the surgical slab on which Tsuzuki lies, a smirk crossing his pale face. "Do you think that forgiving me will somehow purge your soul? Do you think that it will make me stop? No, Mister Tsuzuki, I'm only just getting started." The dim light of the underground lab glints over Muraki's glass eye in ways that it should not be able to, as if to indicate that the darkness within him has awakened. He reaches to the table of medical implements, and takes up a bone saw with a long, narrow blade...
Re: Yami no Matsuei, Muraki/Tsuzuki
From:no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 07:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 08:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 08:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 08:03 am (UTC)