Martes - Rare Pairings

[drabblewriter.livejournal.com]

Hey, I'm still drabblewriter , and you're still stuck with me as your host. ^_^ Today's theme is rare pairings. Every fandom has that one OTP (or two or three) that everyone seems to ship, but what about all those other possibilities? Today is the time for these little-known couples to shine. ♥

Don't forget to follow the rules:

• Post no more than three prompts per fandom and no more than five prompts in a row. If someone fills a prompt, you're more than welcome to post some more prompts later in the day.
• No spoilers in prompts for at least seven days after the original airdate or publication date. If you have spoilers in your fic, please warn in bold and leave at least three spaces.
• Show some love to the code monkeys and format your prompts correctly. Examples below:
•           Supernatural, Dean/Crowley, coping
•           Supernatural, Sam/Brady, first meeting
•           Supernatural/Torchwood, Dean/Jack, 40 years in Hell vs. 2,000 years buried alive

If you don't see anything here that tickles your fancy, be sure to check out the Lonely Prompts.

theme="RarePairings"

Comments

[junkiefornews.livejournal.com]

Chuck, Ted RoarkxChuck Bartowski, Roark decides to keep Orion's son for his own nefarious purposes.

[viciousbluesky.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Sam/Castiel, post-it notes

Some Things a Brother should Never Learn | Supernatural, Sam/Castiel, post-it notes

[chibifukurou]

Post-it notes pop up wherever they go. In the trunk, on the guns, and even in the cheap hotel rooms they crash in. It’s really beginning to annoy Dean, particularly because he can’t read the stupid things, since they’re written in Angel Glyphs.

Sam seemed to find them amusing, but that didn’t make him feel any better about it. Not with the way Sam kept blushing.

Being the brilliant big brother that he was, Dean set up a sting operation to find out what was going on. He told Sam he was going out for pie and then hid in the bathroom. He really wished he hadn’t when he caught Castiel and Sam making out. Apparently the glyphs were some kind of love note. Something he would have really preferred not to know.

[myconstant.livejournal.com]

Doctor Who, Billy Shipton/Sally Sparrow, life is short and you are hot

[tiptoe39.livejournal.com]

SPN, Sam/Crowley. "I don't trust you, but you're just my type."

[lmx-v3point3.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Parker/Bunny, I hope you're not afraid, where ever you are. You don't need to be, I'm not. I will find you (http://xkcd.com/104/)

No Fic, but....

[emily64cooper.livejournal.com]

THIS. (Which means: this is so far beyond awesome that words don't describe it).

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

Sandman, Dream/Desire, can't have one without the other

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

Dragonriders of Pern, F'lar/F'nor, falling and flying

No fic

[pandionpandeus.livejournal.com]

But I love you for-freaking-ever for this prompt. I've got a plot idea and everything, but I don't remember enough of their personalities to fill it. *very sad* :c

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

Discworld, Vimes/71-Hour Ahmed, stranger in a strange land

[loki-scribe.livejournal.com]

(I just reread Jingo. Dammit. Not sure this is what you were looking for.)

They'd arrested two armies together. Then Ahmed had disappeared into the desert before his boss had done something that Ahmed, at least, would regret. Then Vimes had wound down, gone back to Ankh-Morpork and arrested his own boss. Admittedly he'd only done so briefly and reluctantly, and Vetinari had been back to running the city in short order, but still.

Big crimes, little crimes. Neither he nor Ahmed was a big enough copper to police an entire country, but it occurred to Vimes sometimes that they had enough nerve. It was simply a matter of what they did with the mob of politicians once they'd gotten its attention.

But, well, Vimes maybe had the luxury of thinking about that, because the crimes he went after were what always seemed to get bigger. What kept getting bigger for Ahmed was his beat.

He was starting to get some idea of just how big Ahmed's beat really was. He'd been in the middle of it for four days, and most of that had been spent trying to find the old bastard.

Ahmed lit up his cigarette. "Would you care to explain why you're here again?" he asked.

"I was in hot pursuit," Vimes said, a little defensively. Once again he hadn't thought before he'd gotten on the boat. Sybil had probably been frantic and Carrot worried for a few days before he'd managed to get word sent home. And he was still in hot pursuit, dammit. Or he would be if he hadn't lost the trail and needed someone who knew the area to find it again. "I've chased men as far as Sto Lat or Quirm before, but. . . ."

There was a moment of silence. Ahmed exhaled a cloud of smoke. "But you have men in Sto Lat and Quirm, who work the way you do."

The Sammies. Vimes knew Ahmed had to have heard of them. But the Sammies might know him, and no cooperating was usually better than dealing with the political hassle caused by an angry Vimes tearing through town anyway, they weren't his men. "Coppers are coppers," he hazarded. "I knew there was at least one in Klatch, too." Which is why I spent the past seventy-two hours trying to find him, even thought I knew how difficult you could make this.

Ahmed regarded him thoughtfully. "You say you were chasing a man known to kill over the price of knuckle sandwiches?" he asked.

Vimes nodded.

"I never have understood your cities attachment to that part of the pig," Ahmed said. "But if he is an Ankh-Morporkian, there are only so many places he would know to go. Perhaps we should get you a camel."

"Only if you let me find someone trustworthy to ask how to stop."

Ahmed grinned. If it weren't for the glint of teeth it would be like watching one of those scars opening up. "In this city? That would be just as difficult as finding one in yours. A horse, then."

Vimes didn't like the idea of a horse, either, but Ahmed's beat was much bigger than his. And once again, the chase was on.

[rayhne.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Sterling/Maggie, A new beginning?

No Hate | Leverage, Sterling/Maggie, A new beginning?

[chibifukurou]

She should hate him like Nate does but she can’t manage it. She knows tough men and liars and she can see his sorrow over Sam’s death in the way he handles the pictures of Sam and how he never goes all out when it comes time to catch Nate.

Oh he tries, more to get Nate’s goat and shake him up, than for anything else, but he knows she still loves Nate and he doesn’t want to hurt her. Well at least no more than Nate already does.

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

Asterix the Gaul, Cacofonix/Fulliautomatix, more than one way to shut the bard up

IDEK, okay?! *hides*

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

Tomb Raider movies, Bryce/Hillary, keeping themselves busy while waiting for Lara to check in/come back safe

[jemzamia.livejournal.com]

Doctor Who/Sherlock Holmes (2009), Eleven/Holmes, interlectual foreplay

[jemzamia.livejournal.com]

Doctor Who, Ten/Ross, jeep fumblings

That's Alright | Doctor Who, Ten/Ross, jeep fumblings

[chibifukurou]

The Doctor presses Ross back against the jeep’s seat, smashing their lips together and groping randomly at his crotch. It’s more like teenage fumbling than lovemaking, but that’s alright. After all, It has been a few centuries since he last had a lover.

[jemzamia.livejournal.com]

Doctor Who, Amy/River, talents

batting practice 1/2 (RS/AP, implied RS/11)

[arnica.livejournal.com]

Amy thinks it's probably hero worship that has her heart pounding and her voice a bit breathy every time River Song speaks to her. Really it does make sense when she thinks about it. The Doctor is * different* than them. All old and alien and strange with a spaceship that looks like a police box and travels through time. She'd be frankly disappointed if he wasn't so wonderful, but River Song is, well is *human* and just as wonderful.

And unlike the Doctor, she's not just someone who likes to show off her many talents, but to teach them.

"Alright then Amelia," At some point they've both picked up the habit of calling her Amelia, but only on the TARDIS. "You're going to want to grip the bat here, close to the base of the handle, and then about a third of the way up. No, not quite there." She wraps her body around Amy from behind, sliding her hands from Amy's wrists to cover her hands, sliding them together across the handle of the bat until they're in the right pace. "There we go! Good, now make sure your feet are just about shoulders apart, your left in front with your weight on your back leg, just a little bent."

"Like this?" She knows when she plants her feet that they can't be right, she feels a little too imbalanced, but River gives her a wide grin and bends down. The Professors hands are slightly rough as she slides them up from Amy's ankles, adjusting her stance. And this is not sexy...well it's totally sexy, but she's definitely not going to make a move towards the Doctors'...whatever he and River are, because they are definitely something.

"There we go Amelia Pond. Much better. Now draw back with your right arm, twist at the hips and when you swing, put all those coiled muscles into it." Although Amy is pretty sure she *could* pull the archeologist, who apparently has other equally useful talents if the sounds that sometimes echo out of random rooms are accurate, if she wanted to. Which she doesn't. Not at all, because The Doctor has it rough enough without River tossing him over for Amy who isn't thinking about shagging her at all because this is *absolutely* just hero worship. Although she does remember River mentioning that the 21st century was pretty restrictive about sex. Maybe there would be no tossing anyone over...

[jemzamia.livejournal.com]

Doctor Who, Eleven/Rory, "missed you as well during those 2000 years"

doctor who, rory/eleven, missed you during those 2000 years

[polychromator.livejournal.com]

There are few words said when they meet after two thousand yeas - there's only a gasp, a yell, and a gleeful slap on the shoulder as they run to save the day. Sentiments and feelings are buried under action, triumph and the biting, clawing rush of adrenaline.

Later there are even less - hands wrap tightly around shoulders, pulling one another close (close enough to smell sweat and dirt and life), delving into lost hours, ticking seconds. Drifting in and out of consciousness, just like flicking through golden time. Silence but the rustle of bed sheets, tangled between long legs; twisted and unfamiliar, unused to the presence of a partner.

Looking back, the absence of things said is not sad, or wrong, or terrible. Few words said means more unspoken- things unsaid, which diffused through cold nights and broken skin and warm hearts.

[arnica.livejournal.com]

Doctor who, Crazyevil!Jack/Master, he had wondered what the Captian would be like without all those morals and inhibitions. He was so very glad he found out

Change of Pace | Doctor who, Crazyevil!Jack/Master, he had wondered what the Captian would be like

[chibifukurou]

The Master moaned as a knife bit into his flesh, making blood flow down his chest.

The Captain leaned down and lapped at the wound sending
Spikes of pained pleasure down his spine. He hissed a curse and arched forward into Jack’s mouth, overcome with pleasure.

He was so glad that he’d found the Morality changer among the alien artifacts he’d confiscated from the Torchwood archives. He’d been getting bored with torturing the Captain and it was so much more fun being the victim.

[arnica.livejournal.com]

Narnia, Peter/Jill, some people prefer dirty talk in bed, some people speak High Narnian, some do both

The High King's Concubine

[effingeden.livejournal.com]

“Oh, you beautiful, wilful little slut,” Peter murmured in High Narnian, lifting his hips and thrusting against Jill’s palm as she rubbed him. “You’ve been wanting me for weeks, haven’t you? I’ve seen you watch me all through the meals and lectures. Following me just so you can catch me alone and get me to bend you over and fuck you… would you be so brave if you hadn’t seen the truth in my eyes? Hadn’t known I was blessed by Aslan?”

Jill had been staring at him enraptured. At the Lion’s name, she gasped deeply and spoke – in English. “You said His name! What else did you say? I know it was Narnian. You’ve been there, too. Oh, oh say something more! I miss it so.”

“You don’t understand what I’m saying?” Peter murmured, confused. To him, learning Narnian was like rediscovering his mothertongue. He, and his siblings, had taken to it with ease. But Jill showed no recognition, no understanding. Peter smirked. “Well, nevermind. You still want me to fuck you raw, don’t you?” She bit her lip and looked about ready to pounce him. “How shall I have you? If you are not versed in the language, you might know some of their… enjoyments. The feeding swans? No. The dryad and the Nyad? The Dance Of Stars?” She blushed and blinked. “Oh, so that’s where you got your taste for a good fucking. Well done, girl. I wonder who it was you enjoyed yourself with. The Stars take a skilled partner.”

He lifted her hand from him, she’d stopped rubbing him anyway, and kissed her palm. “I want to see your breasts heaving above me and I fuck up into you. I want to see sweat run down those soft, creamy slopes. I want to feel your nails claw my back as I pin you against the wall and thrust into you so slowly you scream you hate me.” He dropped to his knees, and lifted one of her feet, pulling the shoe and sock off it and kissing the instep. “I think you’re going to like my cock inside you.” After every few words he paused to kiss, lick, nibble his way up her ankle to her calf, then on to her knee. “In your slick velvet purse, in your tight dark star, but most of all, I think you’d like to take me in your mouth.” He was midway up her thigh, his hands in his hair and one leg hooked over his shoulder. He could smell the lovely, thick female scent radiating from her. He smirked up at her excited, anxious face. “Yes, you’re a cockhungry little whore. My beautiful concubine.” He slid his hands to the tops of her thighs and parted her, gazing at her slit for a moment before murmuring to her in a voice full of wondrous rapture, “Those are two very precious little cockholes. Look how hungry they are. I wish I could fill both at once. If we were in my time, I would fuck you on my thrown in front of the whole court. Let them know just what a good little minx you are.”

Her nails were biting into his scalp she was clutching him so hard. “Please!” she gasped.

He smiled and went to work, feasting on her until she was shuddering, lost in her own delight.

[rayhne.livejournal.com]

Leverage/SPN, Crowley/Sterling (and Nate?), Nate's anger at Sterling stems from the fact Sterling didn't go to Sam's funeral. How does Sterling tell him that the demon residing him wouldn't let him enter a church?

Unforgiven | Leverage/SPN, Crowley/Sterling (and Nate?)

[chibifukurou]

Sterling watches as Sam is laid to rest. The funeral is a traditional catholic service, taking place on hallowed ground. Sterling can see Nate and Maggie falling apart. Sam was their life, and the only thing keeping their shaky marriage together.

He should be down there with them, helping deal with their loss, but the demon inside him won’t allow it. Crowley tries to convince him that it doesn’t matter, but Sterling knows better. Nate isn’t forgiving. Not showing up for Sam’s funeral will convince Nate that he approved of Blackwood’s dirty dealings. He didn’t but that doesn’t really matter, not when Nate won’t give him a chance to explain.

Crowley whispers that they could give Nate a chance to get Sam back. Nate will forgive him if he brings his son back to life. Sterling blocks Crowley’s voice out. He won’t do that to Nate, not when he still has a chance of redemption.

The service is ending, people are dispersing and Sterling follows their lead. He turns away and lets Crowley take his body over again. He doesn’t want to think about what he’s lost.

[arnica.livejournal.com]

Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Percy Weasley, he understands having to follow your guts, even when your family shuns you for it

Secret Meetings | Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Percy Weasley, he understands having to follow your gut

[chibifukurou]

I kind of went off on a tangent. I hope you like it anyway.

xxxxxx

The boy’s hair is Weasley red, but Sirius doesn’t recognize him. He’d thought he knew all of the Weasley children, which begged the question of who was scuttling around Grimmauld Place.

There was no reason for anyone to come visiting him tonight. No meetings were scheduled and no missions were underway. Sirius changed into Padfoot, using his senses to trail the boy.

He doubts the boy would have noticed him, even if he’d followed him in human form. He never takes his eyes off the floor.

After a few minutes, the boy finally reaches the library and slips inside. He leaves the door open a crack, which allows Sirius to keep watching him as he makes his way to a little table that is partially blocked by a bookcase full of thick magical tomes. The boy sat down, facing towards the door. He still kept his eyes on the ground.

Sirius nudged the door open a little further with his muzzle, trying to see who the boy was meeting with.

“What do you have for me, Percy?”

Sirius jumped. That was Dumbledore's voice. Why would Dumbledore be holding secret meetings with a Weasley?

“I have some information on Dolores Umbridges’ movements,” Percy replied rubbing his hands together nervously. “She’s been seen talking the warden in charge of Azkaban prison and I have reason to believe that she’s trying to gain control of a few Dementors.”

“Do you know why?” Dumbledore asked.

“No sir.” Percy finally took his eyes off of the floor and Sirius was shocked by how fanatical he looked. It was the look of a drowning man who saw his salvation. Sirius was intimately familiar with that kind of obsession, he’d acted the same way with James. He didn’t want to think about what could make a light wizard from a light family, look that lost.

He was considering going into the library and demanding answers when noise and light exploded throughout Grimmauld place. The shock made Sirius return to his human form. He dove inside the library, ready to ask Dumbledore what was going on, but he was too late. Dumbledore was gone, the only sign of his presence the maroon cloak slung over the back of the library table’s chair and the explosion of green fire from the fireplace. Even the mysterious, Percy had disappeared.

Sirius growled in dismay and stomped over to the fireplace. He needed to call Hogwarts and find out what had set off the alarms.

[tigriswolf]

Supernatural, Michael/Mary, do we have a deal?

[tigriswolf]

Supernatural, Asher/Ben Braedon, innocence lost

(Asher's the little brother from season one's "Something Wicked")

[myconstant.livejournal.com]

Doctor Who, Eleven/Romana, prove it

[tigriswolf]

Supernatural, Azazel/Gordon, What is to give light must endure burning

[araine.livejournal.com]

Kuroshitsuji, Sebastian/Lau, Lau can cure heartbreak and the blackest of spirits with a single drug - the frustrations of a butler are a simple matter.

Pleasures and other Earthly Things | Kuroshitsuji, Sebastian/Lau, Lau can cure heartbreak

[chibifukurou]

“What is it you were looking for Sebastian?” Lau leaned back in his chair. He absentmindedly fiddled with his opium pipe, taking a few drags as the silence stretched on.

Sebastian stood as still as a statue, showing no signs of the sorrow that had brought him to Lau’s parlor. Lau could wait, no matter what Sebastian had come seeking. After all he could give pleasure to humans with a simple drug, how much more difficult could it be to ease a butler’s broken heart?

[nevcolleil.livejournal.com]

The Myron Bolitar Book Series by Harlan Coben, Myron/Win, protective streak

Protective streak, Myron Bolitar series, Myron/Win

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

I blame you - I now have a major obsession with this series! XD Now, I've only read the first two so far, but I hope this doesn't come across as too OOC - first Bolitar fic...hopefully not the last!




Myron Bolitar never could resist a damel - or a prince - in distress. Always has to get involved, get pro-active and - more often than not - get punched and otherwise hurt for his trouble.

Myron Bolitar - ever the bleeding heart.

Win doesn't understand where this ridiculous protective streak comes from. Okay, so Myron has a younger brother. Lots of people have younger siblings - it doesn't mean they actively go out looking for trouble...although it is, Win supposes, understandable.

Myron, though, takes it above and beyond helping little old ladies across the street and stepping in when he sees a woman being bullied by her partner. He gets strange ideas in his head sometimes - although, to be fair, there do seem to be an awful lot of people connected to the sports industry that need help.

Win has no such compunctions about flying in at the last minute save the day. Yes, he stays out all night keeping a watch on a client or a suspect or he'll put down vermin that, quite frankly, deserve to die slow and painful deaths, but Win very rarely does it for the client, the damsel, the prince. He does it, he's decided, because it's Myron that asks him to - Myron that awakens this strange, rusty, barely used protective instinct inside Win.

Because, God knows, Myron would probably be dead by now if it wasn't for Win. And if there wasn't a Myron Bolitar in the world...well. In Win's opinion, that just wouldn't be acceptable.