TUESDAY - COLLECTING

[savageseraph.livejournal.com]

Today's theme is going to be Collecting, so you might want to write about characters gathering and coming together, about collecting items or memories, about go somewhere to retrieve other characters, about collecting on a debt or a promise, about a character's need to collect his/her emotions. Be as literal or as creative as you like. Any fandom, any pairing.

Please follow the following formats (the second is for crossovers) in your requests in order to help the code-monkeys:

Fandom, Pairing, Prompt
Fandom1/Fandom2, Pairing, Prompt

Some examples might be:

X-Files, Mulder/Scully, You have over one hundred what?
LOTRips, Sean/Viggo, too much to drink
24/James Bond, Jack Bauer/Bond, You owe me.

You may leave as many prompts as you'd like as long as they're one prompt per comment, and you can write in response to your own prompts.

If you don't see any prompts today that wake up your muses, then please check out the Lonely Prompts index for inspiration.

Most of all, have fun!!!

Comments

[savageseraph.livejournal.com]

X-Files, Mulder/Scully, You have over one hundred what?

[pipisafoat]

"You have over one hundred what?"

Scully sighed and turned to face her partner. "Interrupting and eavesdropping, Mulder."

He shrugged unrepentantly. "I just wanted to make sure I heard you right. Over one hundred weird Russian sayings, in t-shirt form?"

"Yeah," she said shortly, turning back to her friend. "My college boyfriend started it when he found this elephant--"

"College boyfriend?"

"I'm sorry, Jamie. Do you want to meet for lunch tomorrow?"

Jamie laughed. "Sure, Dana. Don't let him screw with you too much." With a quick hug, she returned to her office, and Mulder escorted Scully to the elevator with a hand on the small of her back.

"You know," he said, leaning over to speak directly in her ear, "more than a hundred bespeaks to more than just a hobby, Scully. Exactly how many do you have?"

"One hundred thirty-four," she muttered. "Some of them are the same shirt in different colors, though."

"Where do you keep these that I've never seen them?"

She snorted. "You may be nosy, but even you don't look at every shirt in my drawers."

He punched the button for their floor with a bit more force than was necessary. "Still, that many is more of an obsession, Scully."

After a few seconds of silence, she reached out and hit the emergency stop. "What's the real problem, Mulder? The fact that I have 134 crazy Russian t-shirts, or the fact you didn't know about them?"

"That you have them!" he exploded. "Jesus, Scully, next you'll be telling me you've started smoking."

She jerked back as if struck. "What? College, Mulder. College. I obviously don't wear them anymore, anyway. And what's the big deal with some stupid t-shirts?"

Mulder looked at her like she was stupid. "They're Russian. So's Krycek. You want something like him against your body?"

"Actually, I don't think he's Russian... but that's not the point," she corrected quickly. "Mulder, really. It's not important. I'm not secretly in league with Krycek or any other devils."

He thought about it for a minute before nodding. Scully reached for the switch to start the elevator moving again, but her partner grabbed her hand before she could flip it.

"Is this a good time for me to go possessive caveman and get some elevator sex?"

"Mulder!" she cried, sounding scandalized, but he saw the brief flash of arousal in her eyes.

As the doors opened, he leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Maybe we'll work late tonight and get stuck..."

[asimaiyat.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Nate/Eliot, wine cellar

[savageseraph.livejournal.com]

LOTRips, Sean/Viggo, too much to drink

[riveroceansea.livejournal.com]

Hmmm--wonder where that idea came from. ;) Might have to write this.

[savageseraph.livejournal.com]

24/James Bond, Jack Bauer/Bond, You owe me.

[the]

Heroes, Sylar/Peter, jackpot

[onceuponapillow.livejournal.com]

Bourne Ultimatum, Bourne/Nicky, Memories

[monica-catch22.livejournal.com]

Sometimes Nicky lies in bed at night, stares at the ceiling and images he's with her, recalling the past when they've met and rewriting the endings. She closes her eyes, slides her hand over her abdomen as she remembers first meeting Bourne, his interrogation and the hard press of muscle.

"Jason, please don't hurt me."
"What were my words? What did I say? I said leave me alone."
"Jason I know, I told them I believed you."

His touch, the scars on those hands... She slides her fingers into her panties and slips a finger in, sighing at the touch and imagining the digit wider, with callouses. She closes her eyes, imagines the scent of fresh air and life.

Memories shift, change, until she's gasping out her release in the lonely apartment and not aware of the heated gaze watching her from across the street.

Shuddering Jason puts down his binoculars, and vanishes into the night.

(sorry, probably not what you were looking for)

[speccygeekgrrl.livejournal.com]

Heroes, Sylar/anyone, already got that one!

[speccygeekgrrl.livejournal.com]

Heroes, Hiro/Ando, that was a limited collector's edition figurine!

[onceuponapillow.livejournal.com]

Underworld, Sonja/Lucian, It's always you

It's you

[guiltyreasons.livejournal.com]

It was a wonder really how time passes. It's like the mimic of a heart beat just passing but unnoticed. Time passed slowly for Lucian. Years turned into centuries and decades into millenniums.

He should have changed his tastes. He had tried again. Tried to love again, but nothing worked. Unlike Victor Lucian found no replacement, he didn't want to. No shadow of a girl would ever replace his love, his only.

It was almost ironic than Selene should be there to remind of her in his last days. There was no forlorn hope in her thought. No, it was always Sonja. Always his love that burned his need for revenge, his need for change.

As he lay dying he saw his last moments with Sonja. He watched his heart burn with her as the sun light her face for the first and last time

"It's always you," he whispered as he watched her burn and felt himself go with her. He didn't believe in a heaven or a hell, but he knew one way or another, he was about to see her again.

[caras-galadhon.livejournal.com]

24, Jack/Tony, scars

[riveroceansea.livejournal.com]

House House/Wilson, '100 bottles of Vicodin on the wall'

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

"You know that taking that's not going to accomplish anything."

"Except to keep you from combining dangerous amounts of drugs with dangerous amounts of narcotics..."

"Yes... but only for the thirty seconds it'll take me to locate another bottle."

"How many bottles do you have stashed around here?"

"You just took the one you know about. What makes you think I'd tell you about the others? I need them."

"You need to stumble your way to your bed and sleep it off."

"Why don't you come with me?"

"..."

"Come on, drunk cripple here!"

"You have a cane."

"Yeah. Wanna see it?"

"House..."

"Come on, just help me get to my room..."

"Okay, okay, stop whining..."

........

"What are you doing? Do you have more Vicodin in there?"

"There's many things someone might keep in a bedside drawer, not just... Hey! Back off!"

"Let me see that..."

"Wilson..."

"Just let me... wait... oh... that's... not your Vicodin."

"No. Vicodin don't come wrapped in cellophane. But was I wrong in thinking it might come in handy in the next ten minutes or so?"

"..."

"Didn't think so."

[riveroceansea.livejournal.com]

NCIS, Gibbs/author's choice (het or slash), boats

[noxnoctisanima.livejournal.com]

Kelly had loved boats, from the very first time she had seen one, throwing open pudgy baby hands to the ocean, trying to pull the colourful floating things towards her.

They had collected them for her, in a mobile, in miniature scale hunched inside glass bottles high on a shelf, toys and beauty and she had grown up loving them.

She was wearing them in her hair when she died, he found them missing from her jewellery box (Full of plastic and bright colours and broken clasps) when he returned to a house full of ghosts.

He built a boat to please her, as perfect as she was and collecting the sweat and blood he would have put into her.

He named her Kelly, in black letters on pale wood, and brought lovers to be judged against her, some passed, most failed.

He would take her to the water one day so she could see her beloved boats again, but in time, when she was old enough, a father had a right to hold onto his little girl for a little longer.

[caras-galadhon.livejournal.com]

Flight of the Conchords, Bret/Jemaine, girlfriends

[caras-galadhon.livejournal.com]

LotR, Theoden/Thorongil, blood debt

[caras-galadhon.livejournal.com]

X-Files, Mulder/Krycek, file folders

[pipisafoat]

There's a drawer on Mulder's filing cabinet that has a separate lock than the other drawers. The key is on its own ring, locked inside a lock-box in a safe. The key for the lock-box is inside a different lock-box, one that is kept under Scully's name at the bank. The key for the safe is locked in a third box in Skinner's safe, and the key for the third box stays secure the Gunmen's lair, though he has never asked Byers where it's kept.

Inside the drawer, Mulder keeps his biggest secret, all filed far more neatly than Scully or Skinner could ever imagine he's capable of. The dark green folders are organized by month, clearly labeled on the top, and inside each green hanging folder rest several manila folders, labeled by day of the month.

Inside these manila folders, Mulder has pictures. Polaroids, regular film shots, and print-outs from a digital camera. Line drawings, sketches, and almost professional-grade portraits. Some of them feature a man, sometimes smiling at the camera, sometimes seemingly completely unaware of the capture. Others are of the same man, younger - as a child, as a teenager, as a younger man. Still others are of two men together.

Only one of these pictures lives outside the drawer, taped to the inside of Mulder's telephone. When the nights get long and the bed gets cold, he pulls out his screwdriver, takes the phone apart, and stares longingly at the shot of him and Krycek, arms wrapped around each other, caught up in a tender kiss.

[wellowned.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Sam Wesson/Dean Smith, silk ties

No fic, but...

[just-imriel.livejournal.com]

Your icon has me snorting cappuccino through my nose. Hilarious.

[red-handed.livejournal.com]

SPN, Dean/Sam, scars collected like trophies

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Dean has always hated looking at Sam's scars. Each one a knotty reminder of a time when he wasn't good enough or strong enough to protect Sammy. Each pinkish whorl like raised writing, telling Dean that Sam didn't want to be part of the hunting world, and that Dean was never able - or even all that willing - to help him stay out.

Sam has always admired Dean's scars. Loved looking at them, even as a kid. Each one a trophy of courage. But also a record of acheivement, a reward for surviving, for being smart enough and tough enough to get those scars. And a reminder of close bonds knitted through fear and fight and adrenaline.

But these handprints. Bright and burning and perfectly shaped. Sam could barely stand to look at them.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Buffy, Spike/anyone, menagerie (Initiative theme, possibly?)

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Every day is spent the same way.

He huddles in the back of the glass cell, naked except for the black leather collar and cuffs they make him wear just for the sake of appearance, trying to stay as far from the prying eyes of the passersby as possible, while not coming into contact with the electrified rear wall of the cage.

They don’t want him to be able to hide much.

After all, the paying customers come here as opposed to the regular zoo, because here, the animals don’t have dark dens in which to hide away.

He sits with his knees drawn up, his arms wrapped around them, trying to preserve what little of his dignity he has left – but even that only lasts so long. After all, an exhibit “animal” that doesn’t do anything is nothing short of boring. If he’s still for too long, one of the handlers comes around and shocks him with the cattle prods they carry around – a none-too-subtle warning to make it interesting for the audience.

So he postures and snarls and pretends for a few moments that he’s something remotely resembling what he once was – but deep inside, he knows that it’s not true. He’s just another shell of what was once a legend… just another exhibit in this endless demon menagerie.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Buffy, Spike/Dawn, secret stash

Stress Relief

[guiltyreasons.livejournal.com]

"Dawn," Spike said his tone wary and touch curious.

"Yeah?" she called innocently from his front room. He had her over to watch the day's soap operas with him. Buffy didn't know and he was sure she didn't know about what was hiding in her little sissy's bag.

"Little bit," he said pulling out a bag full of weed, "What's this?"

"That's," Dawn said her mouth going wide along with her eyes, "You went through my things."

"I smelt it. Vampire remember," he said tilting his head to the side and pointing at the baggie, "you been smoking?"

"Sometimes," she said her eyes going down, "Things just get so stressful and I need something to take the edge off. For god's sake honor students do it and all they have to do is homework. I have to deal with world ending stress."

"Your sister deals with it," Spike corrected.

"Doesn't mean her stuff doesn't bother me," Dawn snapped obviously insulted.

"Make sense," Spike said sitting on the couch beside her and pulling some of the contraband out.

"You're not going to tell her are you?" Dawn asked visible shaken by the idea of being ratted out.

"Nah," Spike said finding rolling paper inside of the baggie as well, "Long as you share."

"Seriously?" Dawn asked wide eyed.

"Yup, but if this ever gets back to big sis we'll both get the pointy end. Hear me?"

"Yeah."

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

AtS, Spike/Angel, collecting on a debt

[morgan-cian.livejournal.com]

"Now, Peaches?"

"Yes, my childe, it is what I am due."

"Thought you had forgotten."

"Never, no matter what you were always my favorite, sweet William."

The play of firelight kissed marble pale skin, shadows flickered as bodies pressed against one another, blood spilled on soft satin sheets.

"Sire!" Spike choked with his cum spreading across Angel's chest.

Angel kissed him, his fingers dipping deep into Spike's body, curling into cold spent seed.

"Happy birthday, my childe."

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

AtS, Lorne/anyone or no pairing, treasures (request in honor of the late, amazing Andy Hallet :( )

Lorne in Silver Lake

[shiny-glor-chan.livejournal.com]

Spoilers for early on Season 6 Angel: After The Fall comics (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Angel:_After_The_Fall). I hope I could do Lorne (and his late actor) a little bit of justice.


When they say L.A. is hell, now they're not kidding. Lorne had learned this before Wolfram and Hart at sent L.A. to hell, but seeing how worse off L.A. Became, it made Lorne shudder. He couldn't even find comfort in song because there was nothing for anyone to sing about.

Fortunately, Lorne did find a treasure among the ruins of L.A. He found Silver Lake, and they made him ruler. At first, he didn't really want the responsibility. Why would he? But then he found it was not a responsibility at all. Silver Lake was a something Wolfram and Hart hadn't touched, and Lorne planned to keep his treasured Silver Lake untouched by them.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

House, House/Wilson, you owe me

Dub-Con ish

[noxnoctisanima.livejournal.com]

"You owe me." Was hissed into House's ear, harsh and full of anger and pain.

Wilson's hand was pressed against his neck, not exactly cutting off his air but hard enough to make it hurt. His fingers grazed along stubble, tilting House's jaw to his liking.

His mouth was hard and violent, it reminded him more of a punch than any kiss he had experienced. Wilson bit through his lip, sharp and without warning, pulling back with blood on his teeth, lips stretching back in an obscene smile.

Wilson leant his weight onto his shoulders, dropping him down onto his right knee, before forcing him all the way down. There was knife-sharp pain in his leg, digging into his back and he was pretty sure that's exactly what Wilson wanted.

It was pretty obvious what was going to happen, but that didn't make the cock forcing its way between his lips any less obscene. He knew how to do this, in a fuzzy long ago in college kind of way but Wilson didn't give him a chance, didn't seem to want to.

His head slammed back against the wall, and he choked against Wilson's cock, pressed so hard against his tongue. Everything was close and hot and smelled of sweat and anger. House braced one hand on his thigh, the other against the wall and relaxed as much as he could, taking all the hate Wilson had to give.

Wilson's breath was coming in harsh pants and his rhythm was shot, harder to move to and House could barely breath, forcing down the gag and waiting for the end.

Wilson didn't warn him, but he didn't expect it. Come dribbled down his chin as Wilson finally pulled back.

House shifted, throwing his leg out in front of him and easing a little of the ache, he rested his head against the wall.

Wilson slumped down in front of him, anger gone, face a mask, apathetic and blank.

They stayed there, close but not touching until the come had cooled and grown sticky and Wilson finally stood, holding his hand out to House.

House watched him for a moment and then allowed Wilson to pull him to his feet.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

House, House/Wilson, pretty things

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Things are only pretty because we have evolved to think they are pretty, House knows. So if the line from Wilson's neck to his shoulders looks like a fine vase, or even better, an exquisite guitar, it's not just a personal preference. It's milions of years of adapting to the universe that has led me to believe that these lines and sinews are more beautiful than others.
And if Wilson's eyes in pain are beautiful, it's because it shows something about him, something of primal significance, that draws me to him. And if his eyes are even more beautiful when they look predatory, when they show that they are about to knowingly inflict something on me -- it just shows that human beings are attracted to cleverness and strength.
Wilson is just a man. Just a collection of pretty things, each with some small evolutionary advantage.
"What are you thinking, House?"
About your body, and how it pulls me from my preverbal core, House thought. About your beauty as the means for the survival of the species.
But he said, "Did you even sleep? You look like crap."

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

House, House/Wilson, broken and scattered

House, House/Wilson, broken and scattered

[menolly-au.livejournal.com]

Wilson had once thought that House pushed people away, that he wanted nothing to do with them. He knew better now. House collected people. He ensared them, drew them into his circle - whether to sleep in his bed, work on his team, or even to employ him. Like moths to a flame they gathered around him, blinded by the strength of his personality. Then he used them up, finding out everything he could about them, probing their every weakness, their every dark thought. He used words to analyse and dissect them until he knew how they worked, and then he would discard them.

Everyone who came near him lost something through the exchange, their self esteem, their confidence, their happiness, their career, their friends and family. One even lost their life. They moved away, tried to escape but House's influence over them never ended. House moved through life leaving a trail of broken people behind him and he never even seemed to notice.

As he stood in his office and severed his friendship with House he heard his own voice claiming he was leaving. He left House standing in astonished silence and made his way out of the hospital. He should have felt relieved, and free but instead he felt resigned. He might leave for now, might even start a new life somewhere else but he knew that he would be back. House wasn't finished with him yet.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Dexter, Dexter/Rita, mementos