Friday: Free for All
Jan. 21st, 2011 02:14 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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comment_ficHappy Friday guys! Not only is the weekend at hand, but this weekend is a contest weekend. So stay tuned. What Friday also means? That's right - the Friday Free For All! Today all fandoms, pairings, and prompts are accepted, so let your imagination go wild.
Just please remember to follow the usual rules:
No more than 5 prompts in a row, no more than 3 prompts per fandom. If someone answers a prompt, you can prompt again.
No spoilers in your prompts for at least 1 week after publication/air date. If there's spoilers in your response, you must warn in bold and leave at least 3 spaces.
Please format your prompts properly! For example:
Not finding anything to your interests? Check out the archive for completed prompts to read or lonely prompts to answer.
And remember, this weekend's a contest! Happy writing. :)
Just please remember to follow the usual rules:
No more than 5 prompts in a row, no more than 3 prompts per fandom. If someone answers a prompt, you can prompt again.
No spoilers in your prompts for at least 1 week after publication/air date. If there's spoilers in your response, you must warn in bold and leave at least 3 spaces.
Please format your prompts properly! For example:
Inception, Ariadne, creating isn't controllingI also should mention -- please don't leave super incredibly long prompts. I've hesitated to mention this yet simply because I don't want us to be controlling the comm's creativity or desires for fic. However, it can get especially clunky (and will get cut off) in Delicious, and makes the monkeys' jobs a little longer when trying to make sure you and your prompt are as represented as possible.
Tron:Legacy/Leverage, author's choices, I'm sorry - Hardison is where?
Not finding anything to your interests? Check out the archive for completed prompts to read or lonely prompts to answer.
And remember, this weekend's a contest! Happy writing. :)
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no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 08:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 08:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 06:49 pm (UTC)Nate gestures again in the general direction of the big screen.
It’s a big screen. But Eliot doubts Hardison is hiding behind it. Guy is skinny - but not skinny enough to fit between the monitor and Nate’s living room wall.
“You’re kidding.”
Nate isn’t kidding. Eliot didn’t know tech could do that; then again, tech isn’t Eliot’s thing.
It’s Hardison’s. Hardison… who got himself sucked into a computer program.
Eliot finds it hilarious. At first. But it’s not as much fun having crappy things happen to Hardison when Hardison isn’t around for Eliot to give him grief about it.
And Hardison isn’t around for a while.
“Okay. What’s the deal? We aren’t just leaving him in there, are we?” Eliot finally blows. It’s been two weeks since Hardison… left. He misses the little shit. Professionally and- Yeah. He just misses him. And they haven’t done a damn thing about it.
“Of course not,” Sophie says. “But we haven’t found a hacker who can safely pull Hardison out of the program. And he says that he can’t fight his own way out-”
“He says… What, you talked to him?” Eliot isn’t exactly surprised that Hardison didn’t “phone home” to Eliot. But he is a little… hurt. Especially since nobody cared to include him in the loop.
Sophie and Nate exchange a look.
“Does Parker know about this?”
“No!” Nate and Sophie exclaim at once. Eliot narrows his eyes at them.
“Eliot-” Sophie begins.
“You just said he can’t fight his own way out…” Eliot continues. “What does that mean? Could we get Hardison out from the inside-”
“Eliot,” Nate stops him. “This is why Hardison didn’t want you or Parker to hear his message. He knew you’d want to… to charge in with your guns blazing.”
“Yeah. Well. We’re good at it.”
“It won’t work in this case,” Sophie says. “Hardison isn’t fighting people in there. He’s fighting computer programs. They only look like people-”
“If they can look like ’em, they can fight like ’em, Sophie. Fire up that doohicky that sucked Hardison’s skinny ass into computerland in the first place. I’m going in.”
Nate sighs and Sophie tries to talk Eliot out of it as Eliot flips open his phone and hits 2 on his speed dial.
“Parker? Yeah. Get your ass over to Nate’s.”
Hardison didn’t want Eliot and Parker to hear his message… Hardison didn’t think Eliot and Parker could handle it.
So he’s in there fighting - all alone…
Fighting? Fighting is Eliot’s thing. No matter what the fight.
“If you hear from him again before we make it to him, you tell Hardison we’re gonna kick his geeky ass for trying to be a tough guy.”
Parker echoes this sentiment when she arrives, locked and loaded and ready to go digital.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 08:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 08:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 08:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 08:52 am (UTC)SG-13 is a good solid team. Made up by Col. Dean Winchester, Capt. Sam Winchester, medical Dr. Jo Harvelle and science wizard/Dr. Ashton Singer. When a gate malfunctions on new planet they have to learn to trust the locals. The fact that the locals can manifest wings, fly and have other really awesome powers makes things interesting.
No fic but...
Date: 2011-01-22 08:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 08:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 08:56 am (UTC)Batmite has gotten tired of all the Batangst. So he locks them all in the manor together and they have to get along to get out. Even worse, it looks like Alfred agrees with him.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 09:03 am (UTC)Both sides of Billy's family have a dinner to get to know each other.
(Bonus for Captain Mar-Vell, his kids Genis-Vell & Phyla-Vell or Anelle being there for even more awkward times)
no subject
Date: 2011-03-17 05:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 09:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-20 01:50 am (UTC)The League is a laughing stock (he takes care of it, takes care of everything) and Moran's aim has never been better. Their numbers dwindle, he crunches through bones; sings drenched in blood. The villains question his sanity and he answers, he answers loudly.
"You should see me in a crown."
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
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From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 09:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 09:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 09:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 09:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 10:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 10:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 10:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 10:18 am (UTC)One-Man Army
Date: 2011-01-21 05:07 pm (UTC)“What? No I don’t.”
“Yes, you- Are you telling me you’ve never even counted?
“Uh… no. Why would I count them?”
“Because there are so bloody many! I’ve known Slayers who traveled lighter than you, love. And Slayers battle demons.”
Eliot scowls, professional pride called into play.
“Hey. Third-world militia can be every bit as dangerous as demons. Worse even. You ever put down a political coup in Lower Kyrzakistan? Kyrzakistani guerillas are like… demons with Uzi’s. And badly inked prison tattoos.”
Spike only smiles, used to Eliot’s occasional diatribe. Truth be told, he likes them. He never said as much, but he sort of enjoyed Peaches’s rants back in the day too. He’s contrary like that.
“So count them. See if I’m wrong.”
Eliot grumbles, but he begins to disarm. Spike counts out loud as, one by one, Eliot’s weapons are revealed.
Eliot is carrying two guns, a bowie knife, four small throwing knives hidden in the heel of his boot, a length of wire rolled up in a flat coil in his back jean’s pocket, a pocket-sized propane lighter modified to eject a mini blowtorch-like flame, a set of nunchucks, and a can of biochemical-strength pepper spray.
“Huh,” he says when the inventory is done. He laughs a little. “There are more than ten.”
“Told you so.”
“Yeah, yeah. We can’t all be vamps, okay? You- All you need is your teeth and you’re good to go.”
“Not true. I like to have at least two weapons on me person at all times.”
Eliot frowns. “Huh?”
“Me fangs… and you. My own one-man army, you are. Don’t leave home without it.”
Eliot smirks and presses their lips together in a brief kiss.
“Damn straight.”
Re: One-Man Army
From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 10:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 10:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 10:34 am (UTC)FILLED!
Date: 2013-09-29 05:56 pm (UTC)Dean knew what was coming, and he wanted it badly; he was hard and aching, desperate for the painful pleasure. Dean had no idea Cas was this kinky but he sure wasn’t complaining. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as the angel moved around behind him, seeing Castiel grip the whip in his right hand.
“You may scream, Dean. Let me hear you.” Those words were the only ones to grace Castiel’s lips before he began. Dean screamed with each strike of the whip, painful agony against his skin burning white hot. The lashes continued to rain down on him, quick and fierce, brutal—no mercy at all. The tears fell down Dean’s cheeks as he drew closer and closer to his orgasm. His skin spit open with the lashing and blood flowed down his back, the welts rising on his skin and burning as he was consumed with pleasure.
When his pleasure peeked moments later, Dean came without a hand on his cock, screaming to the heavens as Castiel laid one finale lash across his bloody back. The angel held his whip, watching as Dean’s body collapsed, limbs going lax in the bonds. Dean was floating, body and soul sated and pleased; his world was hazy and blurring, the pain and pleasure wrapping him up in a euphoria of warmth.
Hands were on him, feather soft and gentle, unbinding him from the cross. They lead him to the bed and pulled him close, and Dean snuggled into Castiel’s embrace; he felt the angel’s wings wrap around him, holding him and keeping him safe. Castiel leaned down and pressed his lips to Dean’s neck, tasting, and Dean whimpered softly as he arched into the touch.
“Mine” Castiel purred, tender and sweet, his fingers gently rubbing up and down Dean’s back, soothing him as he continued to tremble.
Dean’s heart fluttered as he hugged the angel, and he lay warm and loved, in Castiel’s heavenly embrace.
~END
Re: FILLED!
From:Re: FILLED!
From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 10:42 am (UTC)I don't know what this quote is actually referring to, but here's how I used it...
Date: 2011-01-21 05:02 pm (UTC)Too long for a comment so put here (http://nevcolleil.livejournal.com/268396.html).
no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 10:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 10:47 am (UTC)Better late than never, FRG, Morgan/Reid
Date: 2011-01-21 04:58 pm (UTC)"What's up with the care packages genius?"
"You don't like them?"
"No, I like them just fine. Just wondering why you care so much."
Because this was nice. Just the right amount of consideration, without the googly heart eyes that the female staff always threw in his direction. Not that he minded, after all, the feminine touch always reminded him of his mother, in the caring, nurturing way. Not in any intimate way the ladies always wanted. Too bad for them.
"I care. That's all." Spencer shrugged, went back to reading the ridiculous tome of Pyscho-whatever.
"Even my mother doesn't care this much. Last time all she sent me was a birthday card two weeks too late."
"Well, I do. I care."
When Spencer stood to walk over to Morgan, his eyes never left the doctor's hand. He was holding an envelope. As asexual as he could, Spencer discreetly tucked the envelope in Morgan's jacket pocket and walked away, presumably to fill his half-full coffee mug.
A birthday card, five months too late, and a promise for dinner outside work.
That's how much the doctor cared.
Re: Better late than never, FRG, Morgan/Reid
From:Re: Better late than never, FRG, Morgan/Reid
From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 10:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-21 04:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:Keep it a secret, FRG, Shemar/MGG
From:Re: Keep it a secret, FRG, Shemar/MGG
From:Re: Keep it a secret, FRG, Shemar/MGG
From:Re: Keep it a secret, FRG, Shemar/MGG
From: