Thursday: Alternate Universes.
Jun. 9th, 2011 02:11 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
zekkass.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
comment_ficWelcome to my final day as your guest host! Our last prompt will be Alternate Universes! I'm certain we all know what these are - a world where Batman is a reporter for the Daily Planet and where Superman is just an ordinary human is a prime example of an alternate universe. Have fun!
Here's your reminder about the rules:
> Post no more than five prompts in a row, and don't post more than three prompts for a single fandom. If someone fills a prompt of yours, you can then prompt again.
> There's to be no spoilers in prompts until a week from air/publication dates.
> If your fill contains spoilers, then please label it clearly and leave enough spaces for people to scroll on by.
Finally, please format your prompts like so, for our beloved code monkeys.
Examples:
> Supernatural, any, the angels are one big mafia family and the Winchesters are the cops assigned to bring them to justice
> Jeeves & Wooster, Jeeves/Bertie, steampunk AU - Jeeves is a scientist/engineer making the next big machine
> Supernatural, Sam/Castiel, Sam was the one who went to Hell, and Castiel raised him from perdition
Please enjoy yourselves, and please do have a look at the lonely prompts at the Delicious archive as well. :)
(tag=theme!alternateuniverses)
Here's your reminder about the rules:
> Post no more than five prompts in a row, and don't post more than three prompts for a single fandom. If someone fills a prompt of yours, you can then prompt again.
> There's to be no spoilers in prompts until a week from air/publication dates.
> If your fill contains spoilers, then please label it clearly and leave enough spaces for people to scroll on by.
Finally, please format your prompts like so, for our beloved code monkeys.
Examples:
> Supernatural, any, the angels are one big mafia family and the Winchesters are the cops assigned to bring them to justice
> Jeeves & Wooster, Jeeves/Bertie, steampunk AU - Jeeves is a scientist/engineer making the next big machine
> Supernatural, Sam/Castiel, Sam was the one who went to Hell, and Castiel raised him from perdition
Please enjoy yourselves, and please do have a look at the lonely prompts at the Delicious archive as well. :)
(tag=theme!alternateuniverses)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 06:11 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:no fill!
From:Re: no fill!
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 06:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 06:12 am (UTC)I blame my boyfriend for this bunny...
Date: 2011-06-09 06:15 am (UTC)Re: I blame my boyfriend for this bunny...
Date: 2011-06-10 07:16 am (UTC)He stared at the ring in his hand. He knew what it was, he’d seen the man on television gifted with a similar ring, but he’d gone mad. The tiny blue alien before him watched with interest as the gears turned in his mind. He’d chosen the boy because of his vast intelligence, and fearless nature. The other humans who had received their rings from the Guardians had all been surprised. Timothy Drake had been calculating and not the slightest bit surprised by the gift. The last human, Kyle Rayner had let the power get the best of him. Ganthet had hoped that an artist would be ideal to wield the power of the Green Lanterns, but he’d misjudged the passion of emotion. That much sheer creativity coupled with the raw emotion of losing a loved one, had been the artist’s undoing. Los Angeles lay in ruin. Kyle had ravaged the city in an effort to avenge the accidental death of his parents. Ganthet hoped that the keen intelligence standing before him could contain the monster the Guardians of Oa had created.
Tim slid the ring onto his finger and closed his eyes. Oxygen generation, radiation shielding, a barrier against micro meteorites, Ganthet watched as a faint green shield formed around the teenager. Tim opened his eyes and looked down to his benefactor.
“What makes you think I can do this, where the guy out west failed?” he asked. Ganthet nodded.
“I’ve looked into your heart Timothy,” Ganthet replied. “And I know that you have endured tragedy.” Tim cocked an eyebrow. So they knew of his mother’s brutal murder. “I also know that you aren’t thinking of revenge,” Ganthet added.
Tim smiled softly. “We have Batman in Gotham and he caught the bastard that killed my Mom for drug money.” Ganthet nodded once in acknowledgement. “You’ll forgive me an indulgence?” Tim asked suddenly. He smirked when he saw that he’d managed to perplex the seemingly unflappable Guardian.
“An indulgence?” Ganthet asked.
“I’m human, it’s a character flaw of my species,” he shrugged. Before Ganthet could ask, Tim rocketed skyward. Ganthet narrowed his eyes and followed. He found Tim in orbit, halfway between the Earth and its moon. Ganthet frowned as Tim studied his home world below.
“Your indulgence is to look at your planet?” he huffed, but Tim shook his head.
“My indulgence was to give myself a reality check,” he murmured softly.
Ganthet narrowed his gaze at Tim and blinked in surprise a moment later. The first thing the boy had wanted to do with the ring was to remind himself that his kind and his planet were not unique in the universe. He had needed to establish in his mind that a little further out in his native solar system, the planet below was barely a speck of blue light against the black of the universe. Timothy Drake, Ganthet mused, was grounding himself in an effort to not let the power of the ring get the better of him.
“Tell me about the one out west in L.A.,” Tim asked. Ganthet smiled softly. They’d made the right choice this time.
Re: I blame my boyfriend for this bunny...
From:Re: I blame my boyfriend for this bunny...
From:Re: I blame my boyfriend for this bunny...
From:no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 06:17 am (UTC)(no fic--yet)
Date: 2011-06-09 04:22 pm (UTC)Re: (no fic--yet)
From:also no fic...yet.
From:Re: also no fic...yet.
From:Re: also no fic...yet.
From:no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 06:19 am (UTC)I really want to write this
Date: 2011-06-09 04:36 pm (UTC)Re: I really want to write this
From:Re: I really want to write this
From:Re: I really want to write this
From:Re: I really want to write this
From:Re: I really want to write this
From:Of Ground, or Air, or Ought - Arthur/Eames, crackish
From:Re: Of Ground, or Air, or Ought - Arthur/Eames, crackish
From:Re: Of Ground, or Air, or Ought - Arthur/Eames, crackish
From:Re: Of Ground, or Air, or Ought - Arthur/Eames, crackish
From:no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 06:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 06:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 06:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-10 02:17 am (UTC)I may write this, but it'll be a heck of a lot longer than a comment fic :)
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 06:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 06:25 am (UTC)Untitled Fill
Date: 2011-06-09 01:56 pm (UTC)They crashed to the earth of the clearing, hitting the ground hard with all the force of the magic that had taken them out of Hell.
Dean groaned as he opened his eyes slowly. He felt the rise and fall of Cas' chest against his own, so that was something. He was aching all over, his left arm was hot and throbbing with the pain of a burn, and in fact he felt kind of singed all around He'd managed to get them both out of there alive and intact, though.
Sam and Jimmmy probably would both want to kick his ass for going ahead without them, but once he'd found the book with the right spell, there hadn't been any time for discussion other than a brief call to Jimmy. He couldn't and wouldn't let Cas go on suffering for a minute longer.
"Dean," Cas groaned weakly, then dragged himself up to a sitting position from where he'd been half on top of Dean, clinging on to him like a life preserver.
"Jesus," Dean muttered as he did the same and then surveyed the scene before them. It looked as if a bomb had gone off. Trees were flattened or completely uprooted, and branches were scattered all around for as far as he could see. "You all right?"
"I think so," Cas answered. "You?"
"I'm fine. You look like hell, though," Dean smirked as he took in Cas' messed up hair and slightly scorched t-shirt and jeans.
" Not funny. For the record, you don't look so good either...You came and got me. By yourself." Cas stated in a tone of disbelief after a few seconds.
Dean shrugged. "Been looking for a way for the entire time. Sam and Jimmy are on a hunt nearby, but I couldn't wait for them once I managed to find it. You honestly think we'd just leave you down there? Any of us?"
Cas smiled at that, then looked at Dean for a moment. "Your arm. Doesn't that hurt?"
"Yeah, a little. Nothing I can't handle."
"It looks like a really, really bad burn, Dean."
Dean pulled the rest of his singed shirtsleeve up to see the bright red mark of a handprint where Cas had been holding on to him.
Re: Untitled Fill
From:Re: Untitled Fill
From:Re: Untitled Fill
From:Re: Untitled Fill
From:no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 06:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 07:48 pm (UTC)Dean figures that’s par for the course, really. Sam can take Ruby’s word as gospel, but God forbid Dean ask him to listen to the demon that freaking rescued him from hell.
Not that Dean trusts either one of them, not really. He just thinks there’s a teeny tiny possibility that Castiel is more on their side than Ruby is.
That feeling increases every time she side-eyes Castiel or makes a snippy comment, especially given the fact she’s been stealing his brother away to do stuff that makes Dean really, very uncomfortable.
But then Castiel says nothing about their behavior, and Dean doesn't know whether that should make him more wary or less.
Freaking demons.
It doesn’t help either when Castiel shows up on those nights, the ones where Sam’s bed is empty and Dean’s hand is itching for Ruby's knife. It doesn’t help that Dean lets him touch him, feels that presence that brushed by him more than once in hell, that was always a little off, a little too different to be ignored. A little piece of hell here on Earth.
Sometimes, Dean desperately hopes it’s not an act, and that maybe scares him more than anything.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 06:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 06:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 06:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 06:32 am (UTC)Plaything
Date: 2011-06-09 05:12 pm (UTC)Dean's still got the wings, somewhere. Probably in the hall closet. Seems a likely place for him to have put them, but he's not sure. It's been so long, after all.
Long enough that he's decided that his plaything won't ever grow boring. There will always be something new for him to discover and toy with. Always something he can do to mess with his toy.
And it's all his.
All that pale flesh, which Dean has been oh so very careful about. Unblemished skin is so hard to find, these days and he's not about to ruin it, though sometimes he wonders how it would look smeared with blood.
And the hunger, oh the hunger. Blue eyes gone black with desire to be satisfied in every way. Food, drink, sex, touch, sound... Dean could--and does--spend days just watching how his plaything reacts when he deigns to cater to those desires. Different meats and breads; a variety of liquids; sometimes alcohol; women, men and inanimate objects; harmonies and discordant noises. All falling on virgin senses.
It's beautiful, Dean thinks.
Sometimes, he can't help himself. He has to touch, has to taste, has to know for himself, first hand.
On those days, he slips into the room, pushes his plaything down to the floor and takes his time learning, discovering. Lick here, bite there. And his plaything unravels under him, fully his in those few moments.
Those are Dean's favorite moments, the short span of time when he remembers that his plaything was once an enemy, was once something to be destroyed or subverted. When he looks down into eyes the color of a sky that his plaything doesn't remember and knows that he's done the worst thing to this creature that he could possibly do.
He's taken an angel out of Heaven and pulled it into Hell. Taken the wings from a creature of the sky and grounded it in the bowels of the earth. And he's taken the mind and body of an immortal being and replaced it with the mind and body of a mere mortal.
A fallen angel, laid out as a plaything before Dean.
no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 06:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 06:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 06:52 am (UTC)Closing In
Date: 2011-06-09 04:51 pm (UTC)"Henrickson," he says. He's thinking that they could stop off in the town up the road, ask around, see if anyone's see a black Chevy Impala come this way. If so, there might actually be reason for why he's in this damned state in January.
"Henrickson, it's Powell," says the voice in his ear and Henrickson frowns. Casey looks at him, curious, but Henrickson waves him away.
"What is it, Powell?"
Powell sighs. "It's the damn Winchesters."
Henrickson swears, making Casey jump. "What'd they do?"
"Not sure, yet," Powell says. "Just, a whole mess of signs just went active down in Kansas and there's three missing persons in Douglas County from the last four days alone."
"Damn," Henrickson says, thinking quick. It's two hours back to Bangor and getting a flight on such short notice, even with his badge... "I'm in Maine, right now, but I'll be down as soon as I can. Casey can handle things up here."
"All right. We're following up on the missing persons. With any luck, we'll have something by the time you get here."
"Yeah, you do that. And Powell?"
"Yeah?"
"You get the chance, you take them down, you hear me?"
"Crystal clear. See ya in Kansas."
"Good bye." Henrickson flips his phone shut and drops it in the cup holder, closing his eyes for a long moment.
"Henrickson?" Casey asks.
He takes a deep breath. "They've got three missing persons in Douglas County and red signs are popping up in the area, too. Looks like the Winchesters slipped right past us. We're heading back to Bangor," Henrickson says, checking traffic before pulling out and heading back they way they'd come.
Casey's quiet for a moment, then nods. "Okay." And Victor Henrickson grins at the pavement stretching out in front of him.
Four long years of chasing Sam and Dean Winchester all over the country and he's finally closing in. And a hundred plus restless ghosts will soon be put to rest by the long arm of the law.
Re: Closing In
From:no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 06:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 06:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 06:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 06:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 06:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 06:58 am (UTC)