comment_fic | Friday - Free-For-All

Friday - Free-For-All

Hey, guys! It's that time of the week for you to let your imaginations go wild with no restraints, other than keeping it legal... and possibly bending a few laws (*winkwink*). As always, you only need to follow the rules:

No spoilers in your prompts for at least one week after publication/air date.

If there are spoilers in your story, you must warn in bold and leave at least 3 spaces.

No more than 5 prompts in a row, and no more than 3 prompts per fandom. If one of your prompts is answered, you can prompt again.

Respect our awesome code monkeys, and follow the standard format with your prompts. Like so:

Burn Notice, Michael/author's choice, standing on the edge

White Collar/Leverage, Neal/Eliot, playtime

If you don't see any prompts that tickle your fancy, please take a gander at our lonely prompts section here.

TGIF!

theme="freeforall"

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CW RPS, Misha/Mark P, "I saw what you did there - and I liked it!"

(deleted comment)

Follows this http://community.livejournal.com/comment_fic/151490.html?thread=32133826#t32133826 and this http://community.livejournal.com/comment_fic/146349.html?thread=31209389#t31209389. Seriously when did all my comment!fics become mini-verses?
***

It doesn’t occur to Steve to pick up Christian’s hand until after he has passed out again. Steve can hear each short panting breath, so loud in the stifling interior of Steve’s old car. He can smell the blood that Christian is still losing, taste it, feels like he could hear it too, trickling like a waterfall to the rhythm of Steve’s own heartbeat, too fast and frantic, too much. Christian’s clothes are soaked with it, dark stains like it isn’t blood at all, like Christian had just spilled something on himself again, the clumsy bastard.

Steve clutches at Christian’s hand now that it’s limp and rubbed warmth back into it. God, what has he done? He had just wanted to take care of Christian, wanted to feel like he wasn’t just a responsibility, a burden to the other man. They barely had any time together anymore and the little time they did have, he felt like Christian was pushing away, putting on this happy face like Christian wasn’t ever tired or frustrated or hurt, like he didn’t trust Steve to take care of him, to be there for him.

He just wanted the man he loved back, the Christian that petulantly whined at Steve to massage his aching neck, the one who growled and bitched over the phone about everything and nothing, the one who let Steve see his insecurities, his fears, not this pod person who was too considerate, too careful.

But like an idiot, Steve had made himself a real burden, had proved that he wasn’t capable of being the person that Christian could lean on. The more he drank, the more things spiraled out of his control, his relationship, his career, his friendships, and so the more he drank.

And what he wouldn’t give to take it all back. The only person who was supposed to be hurt was him, not Christian, not like…Tears begin to slip from blue eyes again and sobs build in his chest.

“Christian, please, please, I’m so sorry.” Steve’s breath shudders in and out of his lungs. “I’ll do anything baby, I swear, I swear I’ll be the man you need. Just, please, don’t let go.”

Steve hears the sirens of the ambulance and hears the shouting of the man whose car had hit them, but Steve can’t let go, can’t let go…

Until strong arms wrap around his waist and rip him out of the car screaming.

***
Sorry about deleting it Violet_eyes, the tense was wrong

(deleted comment)

Re: Don't Let Go

melodious329.livejournal.com - 2010-06-11 20:57 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Don't Let Go

melodious329.livejournal.com - 2010-06-12 19:54 (UTC) - Expand

Star Trek XI, Kirk/Spock, "And why did you do that, exactly?"

Norse/Greek mythology, Loki/Dionysus, "You know, Loki, you're not the only Trickster in this bar."

Norse mythology, Loki + anyone, "Oh, come on, that always works on Thor!"

Greek mythology, Hades/Persephone, precisely half the time in the world (Hades's PoV)

I really like this one. If time permits tonight I'm going to try to answer it. :)

Fill

eaemilia.livejournal.com - 2015-01-01 19:59 (UTC) - Expand

Prince Of Persia; Tus/Dastan; Dastan puts a lot of effort in winning Tus' attention

Ever since the King had taken Dastan in, he had wanted to win Tus’ attention. Maybe it was because of their age difference; maybe it was because he got along at lot easier with Tus than with Garsiv, maybe because Tus didn’t dismiss Dastan’s ideas simply because they were unconventional and came from Dastan. Maybe the reason didn’t matter.
At first Dastan had tried to win Tus’ attention by surpassing Garsiv as a soldier but he had given that one up pretty soon. Garsiv had years on him when it came to conventional fighting and even their father had told Dastan that Garsiv would one day lead the army to Tus’ glory. That left Dastan with the role of the advisor, of uncle Nizam’s role, so he threw himself into his studies. And if he read about Alexander the Great and Hephaistion more than once who could blame him?
He still fought but he fought in ways that Garsiv wasn’t used to. If Garsiv would be Tus’ arm then Dastan wanted to be his ears and eyes.
Dastan felt proud and happy every time Tus’ looked at him with appraisal and Dastan wanted to touch his brother every time it happened. In his dreams the lines between Tus as his brother and Tus as a man blurred constantly but fortunately not even their father could watch Dastan’s dreams.
Then Tus got married to his first wife, the oldest daughter of one of smaller kingdom’s at their Northern border, a political arranged marriage not one of love but still Dastan hated that day, hated Tus’ wife and hated their father for letting it happen. There was something new in Tus’ eyes that night, a fire when he looked at his beautiful wife that Dastan wanted to see directed to him an only him.
He never examined his feelings on that night and the following ones too closely or wouldn’t have but Bis had been there, too and Bis had known him to well long before the King or Garsiv or Tus had come into his life.
And Bis had asked.
Or rather he had said:
“You’re nearly smothering in your love for him. He has to be very happy.”
“Who are you talking about?”
“Tus.”
“He’s my brother, Bis.” Dastan tried to laugh but it sounded shallow to his own ears.
“No, he isn’t.” Bis said with intelligent eyes: “Not by blood.”
“That doesn’t make a difference.” Dastan replied too harshly but Bis didn’t rise to take offence.
“That makes all the difference you need. The Gods can’t condemn you for something you have never done.”
“So you’re saying I’m not a freakish monster?” Dastan asked with a weak smile.
“No, all I’m saying is that it’s not a sin.” Bis grinned and shoved him off of the small wall they had been sitting on.
“He thinks we are brothers.”
“Does he? I thought you would have learned by now never to assume anything.”
“No, probably not.” Dastan said thoughtfully.
“You have his attention. What you do with it is your own choice.”
Dastan thought of everything that should have prevented him and Tus ever meeting, thought of Tus’ red hair and blue eyes, his laughter and wondered if he would have hesitated this much if he and Tus had met in the life he should have been leading.
Maybe it was destiny that they had met how they had.

Labyrinth; Jareth/Toby; Toby plays hard-to-get and Jareth shows how inventive he can get

Battlestar Galactica, Bill/Saul, dependency

Supernatural, Gabriel/Sam, Gabriel tries to be romantic

It started with chocolates. Rich, expensive boxed chocolates from Switzerland. Toblerones still boxed and cool to the touch. Cadbury eggs, Godiva..all wrapped neatly and waiting on Sam's motel bed.

Dean had given Sam a Look, but smirked and said nothing.

Then came the roses. Long stemmed roses in whites, reds, and pinks, laid neatly on Sam's pillow.

Sam had spent a good twenty minutes staring at the rose, blessing them, and testing for anything demonic.

When all else failed, he picked one up, and let out a yelp as a thorn dug into his thumb.

Dean had snickered, and promptly went into a fit of coughing at Sam's glare.

After that, no more roses arrived.

Sam wasn't disappointed. Really.

The chocolates were worth it.

By the time the box with a squirming Labrador puppy came, Sam wasn't sure whether to be touched, weirded out, or spend the day worrying about what the hell he was supposed to do with a puppy and his...line of work.

Sam was on his laptop when the e-card popped up.

would you like a date? the card proclaimed with a dancing fruit.

Sam rolled his eyes, and clicked

How 'bout next Thursday?

"This is getting ridiculous," Sam muttered, looking over his pile of chocolates and thorny roses.

"I thought it was clever," Gabriel said from behind Sam, sounding a bit defensive.

"You know you're supposed to make sure there are no thorns on the roses, right?" Sam said, raising his eyebrows at the archangel.

"Every rose has its thorn," Gabriel crooned. "Just like every night has-"

"Have you been courting me?" Sam blurted, suddenly.

"Is it working?" Gabriel waggled his eyebrows, playfully.

Sam just stared. What was his life?

"You really, really need to brush up on your skills."

"Skills?" Gabriel says. "Please. I've got mad skills. Just ask Casano-"

"..like never saying that again."

"So..no deal?" Gabriel rocked on his heels, flashing Sam his most winning smile.

"SAMMY!" Dean bellowed from outside. "Your goddamn angeldog just took a piss on my car ."

"One date," Sam stated. Gabriel grinned at him, and snapped.

(no subject)

milael93.livejournal.com - 2010-06-11 16:55 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

mulder200.livejournal.com - 2010-06-11 20:45 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

letoist.livejournal.com - 2010-06-11 22:04 (UTC) - Expand

Ten Inch Hero/SPN, Dean+ Sam+ John, before Sam went to Stanford it was Dean's time to be a rebellious son, John finds him at the Beach City Grill

SPN, Dean/Castiel, Nightswimming deserves a quiet night

Prince of Persia, Dastan/Bis, troublemaker(s)

“Troublemaker.” Bis breathes into the skin of his best friend’s neck.

It is not so much that Dastan is a troublemaker; it is that trouble is his magnet. He is attracted to the thrill of danger wherever it may take him. As a boy it helped him survive the slums, but as a prince of Persia, it can drive Bis to stalking in Dastan’s shadow. Dastan is so dreadfully bored, that it bodes ill for everyone; Bis sees the signs, the sighs, the fidgeting and the longing glances for the street slums.

He itches to be out and about, just for one night, Dastan has begged before. He will again. Always, Bis has given in. Not this time, this time he will be selfish. Just this once, Bis will not give into Dastan – and Dastan will give into his inevitable nature where Bis can contain it. Dastan teases him with foreign princes, who are no better than pirates; with rich merchants who trade between Persia and their Koschkan enemies; with festivities where Dastan flirts into a crowd; and men and women lust for him with their eyes and brief touches. Bis keeps so close to Dastan’s side he might as well be a shadow, glaring into eyes that linger too long, sneering when Dastan is touched.

Dastan has gone to his rooms alone, alone but for Bis – and that is all Bis cares about.

Bis pins the youngest prince of Persia against his bed, face first. Only one of his hands holds both of Dastan’s upon the silk sheets – he does not try to struggle, only shivering eagerly, knowing what is coming. With a thief’s nimble fingers, Bis unlaces the ties that keep cloth upon Dastan’s skin. He yanks them down to Dastan’s knees, his bare bottom for Bis alone to see, to touch, to taste. He runs his hand over that smooth tan skin. Dastan gasps greedily for air, so great is his need.

“What do you want, my prince?” Bis asks softly against that warm, living, skin. His tongue makes trails of wet and heat against that buttocks; he licks at the sweat and feels Dastan make a soft low noise, his body trembling beneath Bis so trustingly. Bis takes a flask of oil from his pockets and rubs his hands in it.

“Bis, please…” It’s what Bis has been waiting to hear, that plea, the prince of Persia begging to be bedded by his best friend. He dips his fingers between that crack of flesh, nail strapping at the bud of tight nerves, dragging the tips of his fingers against it, circling and probing, with a smirk upon his face.

Dastan cants his hips, like a cat arching into touch. His groan is as satisfied as any cat purr.

worth the trouble (part 2)

stargazer-abeo.livejournal.com - 2012-08-03 15:26 (UTC) - Expand

Re: worth the trouble (part 2)

oteap.livejournal.com - 2012-08-03 15:32 (UTC) - Expand

Re: worth the trouble (part 2)

stargazer-abeo.livejournal.com - 2013-01-22 02:47 (UTC) - Expand

Re: worth the trouble (part 1)

oteap.livejournal.com - 2012-08-03 15:31 (UTC) - Expand

Re: worth the trouble (part 1)

stargazer-abeo.livejournal.com - 2013-01-22 02:51 (UTC) - Expand

SPN, Dean/Sam, anti-posession tattoos and on what body part to not get them

Fringe, Walter/William Bell, Hurt/comfort

RPS, Jared/Jensen, Jensen is the new kid in town and Jared is one of those guys your parents have always warned you from

So it turned more into, Jensen is the new guy in town...but hopefully you like it anyway?

The first time Jensen saw Jared, he didn’t know anything about him except for a few simple facts. He was tall, he had a sleeve of tattoos he wanted to map out up close, and he was the kind of guy him momma always warned him against.

That didn’t stop him from wanting to get to know him, in everyway possible. It made it easier when Jensen got cornered in a dusty alley way and Jared came to his rescue with a baseball bat and a heavy swing.

“They shouldn’t bother you anymore.”

Jensen looked up at the dirt and sweat that dotted the man’s brow and nodded, “Thanks.”

“No problem. Shouldn’t hassle you for who you like and just gave me a reason to take em’ out of my bar for once and all.”

“I’m Jensen.”

“I know,” A wide dimpled grin, Jensen was screwed. “I’m Jared. Want another drink?”

“Yeah, that would be nice.”

Jared leaned down and Jensen grasped that warm hand and everything his momma every warned him about went flying out the window. He was going to get to know this man and he was going to take how ever long it took to do so.

(no subject)

tresa-cho.livejournal.com - 2010-06-28 01:19 (UTC) - Expand

iCarly/Heroes - Freddie/Micah - Tech fetish

Merlin, Merlin/Arthur, How does Arthur know how to contact the druids?

Stargate SG-1, original SG-1; early on Jack, Sam, and Teal'c realize that Daniel is the only one who doesn't know how to fly, so they decide to teach him.

Stargate SG-1, Jack/Sara and Jack/Sha're, (AU) Jack doesn't know how he lost two wives on the same day, but he intends to get at least one of them back.

Sanctuary, Will, He's always been abnormal, now it makes sense.

Legion, Michael/Jeep, Crisis

Doctor Who, Amy/River/Doctor, Enclosed in small places

True Blood, Sookie/Tara, After taste

Yes, I went there.
--
"Girl, maybe you are a vamp tramp or something, because I can taste two different vampires in your blood," Tara said, looking at her hands. Sookie's blood stained the skin in between her fingers, and she licked it off, one spot at a time. Her fingertips tasted like all manner of rich pleasure.

"I can't believe you drank from two of them. Worse then Lafayette and Jason doing all that V." Sookie's eyelids fluttered close, and Tara watched to see if she would pass out. Sookie's heart was still beating, real quick, but beating.

Back against the headboard, Tara reached over to brushed a strand of blond hair from Sookie's forehead. Tara couldn't count the number of times she did this, laying next to Sookie in her Gran's house, whispering to her in the dark.

"It doesn't matter what you did, or who you did in the past, Sook." Tara said, lightly touching the warm skin. Sookie stared up at her, glossy eyed.

Tara's fingers caressed the bite on Sookie's neck. Tara had seen Sook wear plently of pretty things, but nothing so pretty as those two little marks. Just the site of them made Tara's fangs pop.

Tara grinned down at Sookie. "It's just gonna be me and you from now on."

Stargate: Atlantis, Rodney McKay, "You're a wizard, Rodney McKay."

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