Saturday free-for-all
Dec. 15th, 2012 12:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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comment_ficSaturday free-for-all, y'all. The rules, as always, are:
+No more than five prompts in a row.
+No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
+If one of your prompts is filled, feel free to prompt again.
+No spoilers in the prompts.
+If your fill contains spoilers please warn and/or leave at least three spaces.
Have fun!
+No more than five prompts in a row.
+No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
+If one of your prompts is filled, feel free to prompt again.
+No spoilers in the prompts.
+If your fill contains spoilers please warn and/or leave at least three spaces.
Have fun!
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no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 06:28 am (UTC)Harry Potter, Vernon Dursley/Harry, you’re dreaming on me, me and my beauty
no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 06:29 am (UTC)Harry Potter, author’s choice, Vernon and Petunia Dursley doomed the world because of how they ‘raised’ their nephew
tw: child abuse
Date: 2012-12-16 07:45 pm (UTC)So when a blonde-haired boy talks of power, and superiority, and putting Muggles in their place (under the stairs, he thinks, I'll keep them under the stairs, see how they like it) and extends a hand, Harry takes it. Why wouldn't he? Draco can offer him power, can bring him out of helplessness. The Hat shouts Slytherin! and the Hall falls silent, but Harry's head is high and a smile dances about his lips as he takes his seat beside Draco. Blue eyes peer sharply and anxiously over half-moon spectacles, but Harry doesn't notice.
When Madame Hooch leaves to escort Longbottom to the hospital wing, and Draco snatches the Remembrall from the grass and shouts Harry, catch! and Harry does, he holds it in his hand and it blazes red. He doesn't know what it means and doesn't much care, and hops on his broom and tosses it back. Draco rises to catch it and then Harry does too, and they circle higher and higher and Harry can look down and see the others so far below, a few shouting ineffectually but all too anxious to get near their brooms. They look so small, like ants. He wants to crush them all under his heel. Power, he thinks, and feels a thrill. He grins at Draco; Draco grins back. Then McGonagall sees and there are points lost and detentions gained, but Harry doesn't care. Later that night he and Draco go down to the broom shed and steal the brooms they had been riding. Harry hides his in his trunk, and leaves it there, but every time his fingers brush its splintered wood he remembers, and smiles. (Gryffindor forfeits the first Quidditch match of the year for want of a Seeker; Slytherin wins by default.)
When Christmas holidays come, Draco invites him to Malfoy Manor. There's a House Elf called Dobby who bows and scrapes and Harry can't think of anything better than a being who wants to be inferior. Once he orders the thing into a cupboard and tells him not to make a sound, and doesn't come back for him for two days. Draco's mother is angry at him for that, but Harry thinks it's mostly because there was no one to do the chores. On Christmas morning, Harry wakes to a large (though Draco's is larger) pile of packages from the Malfoys at the foot of his bed, and nothing else.
Harry and Draco are worse together than either could be on his own. They egg each other on, bolster confidence, encourage ideas. By Easter they've had detentions with every teacher, including a few whose classes they aren't in (Kettleburn catches them trying to steal a niffler to smuggle into Gryffindor Tower) and once they were even sent to the headmaster, who peered at Harry disapprovingly over his spectacles and (Harry swears) didn't look at Draco once.
Near the end of term, Harry wakes to find a cold, pale, noseless man looming over him. His arms and legs are stuck to the bed, and sounds seem to die in his throat. There is an introduction, an offer. The only word Harry hears is power.
Re: tw: child abuse
From:Re: tw: child abuse
From:no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 06:30 am (UTC)Star Wars, Owen and Beru Lars, they raised Luke as their own son – he had no idea at all he wasn’t
no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 06:31 am (UTC)Amazing Spider-Man (2012), author’s choice, Ratha didn’t tell Connors about testing the serum
no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 06:31 am (UTC)Amazing Spider-Man (2012), author’s choice, poor Peter Parker
no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 06:38 am (UTC)Filled: This is How You Die (Machine of Death AU)
Date: 2012-12-15 07:50 pm (UTC)"Have you gotten your prediction, Kaylee?"
"What, me? Why would I go and waste coin on something like that?"
"It helps focus your life, prepare you for -"
"Simon, I don't know how it is in the Core, but out here, people don't want to know how they're gonna die. Most of us already know we're gonna have short lives, why waste 'em worrying about a little slip of paper that tells us how it's all gonna end?"
Simon supposes that makes sense. His slip, which he'd dutifully obtained at age eighteen like everyone else on the Core is expected to, has been bothering him ever since. What exactly does "Improperly Prepared Blowfish" actually mean? It's not like he can avoid it, either. The Machine has never been wrong. Ever.
Sometimes he wonders if leaving the Core, making such a drastic change in his life, will have changed his slip. Unless the Machine knew all along what was going to happen. But how would it know? Even after all these years, nobody knows exactly how the Machine works.
"River's says 'piano.' She went out and got her prediction when she was twelve." Simon smiles mirthlessly at the memory of his sister coming home, grinning after having successfully forged their parents' signatures to get permission to get her slip early. "Didn't stop her from keeping up with lessons. Our mother nearly had a heart attack every time she practiced."
"Sounds like River," Kaylee nods.
"What'cha talking about, lovebirds?" Jayne asks, coming to join them at the table.
"The Machine." Kaylee says.
"Kaylee hasn't gotten her prediction." Simon says.
"And you have?" Jayne snorts. "What's a nervous little thing like you want to get a prediction for? Not for those of 'a nervous disposition,' that's what it said stamped on the Machine in my home town."
"Have you gotten your prediction?" Simon asks.
"Sure have!" Jayne grins and gestures to the kitchen. "Vegetables!"
There's a pause.
"You're kidding. That's … no." Simon stares.
"Nope! Printed right there on the little card, in English and Mandarin: vegetables. Guess I'm safe for a few more years at least, we can hardly ever afford real food on this boat, much less the leafy green stuff." Jayne chuckles.
Kaylee laughs, but Simon doesn't. "Oh, come on Simon, lighten up! Sometimes I wonder, sure, but I'd rather wonder than know for sure. What if it's something awful and grisly, I wouldn't want to know until right when it was happening. Or what if it's one of those tricky ones that make you think it's going to be one way, when it's actually something else?"
"Like that Almond fella. Avoided eating almonds all his life, crashed his hoverboard into an almond tree." Jayne nods. When the other two stare at him, he yelps, "What? I listen to the news … sometimes …"
"Or the Rock and Roll girl. Never went to a concert, shot by a crazy fan who thought she was the lead singer from Scuttlecraft."
"Or -"
"Fine! Fine! I get it!" Simon holds up his hands in defeat. "Mine's 'improperly prepared blowfish,' by the way. In case anyone was wondering."
Jayne smirks. "Maybe we'll be eating dinner in a fancy restaurant and we'll both die!"
"Jayne!" Kaylee yelps. "What an awful thing to say!" she hugs Simon.
"I can predict death too." River says, crawling out from behind the kitchen counter. "I'm like the Machine, but better."
Kaylee shivers. "No thanks, River."
River shrugs. "I am a Machine … an extraordinary machine …" she wanders off down the hall.
Re: Filled: This is How You Die (Machine of Death AU)
From:Re: Filled: This is How You Die (Machine of Death AU)
From:no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 07:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 07:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 07:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 07:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 07:45 am (UTC)Fill
Date: 2012-12-15 10:41 pm (UTC)Here: http://lollie-girl.livejournal.com/2976.html
no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 07:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 07:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 07:59 am (UTC)Fill, crossover, Haven/Supernatural
Date: 2012-12-16 12:14 am (UTC)The younger Winchester laughed uncontrollably at the anger in his brothers face, holding onto his stomach as his entire body shook.
"I'm just going to punch you in the face now."
Dean says mock laughing before his fist swings back and connects with Sam's face.
"Dean! Dude, come on, it's just pie."
Sam says wiping at the blood spilling from his nose with his hand.
"HOLD HIM!"
Nathan shouts out as Duke runs behind Dean, locking him by the shoulders so he couldn't harm anyone else.
Dean's arms swing at the air as he tries to escape, Duke shuffling about before he gets a grip on the other man keeping him still.
"You got him....good..."
Audrey says as she arrives out of breath from trying to catch up to them.
"what's going on, here?"
Sam questions as he looks to Audrey who pulls out a packet of tissue before handing him one for his dripping nose.
Nathan, Duke and Audrey all share a look as they wonder how to explain this one.
Having watched the strangers in town come out of the diner they had known something would happen from being so close to Mr Harris, the owner who had a unique ability of making even the smallest emotions expand.
All Sam had done was drag Dean out of the diner before he'd finished eating his pie.
no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 09:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 09:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 09:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 09:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 09:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 09:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 10:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 10:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 10:07 am (UTC)Filled: Snow Day (Warnings: mild sensuality)
Date: 2012-12-15 05:46 pm (UTC)Hardison and Parker's arms drag him back down into the bed.
"Relax, Mr. Punchy," Hardison mumbles, half buried in the pillows.
"It's a snow day!" Parker grins, pointing out the window. It is indeed snowing profusely.
"Nate called. No work. The con can't move forward with the roads like this. So … relax." Hardison cuddled up to Eliot.
"We could still do stuff. I'll go shovel out the car and -"
Parker drapes herself over Eliot's legs, and Hardison tangles himself up in Eliot's arms.
"Not going anywhere, silly," Parker insists.
"We deserve a day off now and again. Let's just enjoy it, ok? Look, I'm not on my laptop! You know what that means!" Hardison grins and waggles his eyebrows.
Eliot groans in mock-horror. "You two are going to be the death of me, you know that? There's only so much sex a man can have before he dies."
"Have you ever done that? Had sex with a guy until he died?!" Parker asks, intrigued.
"Jesus, Parker, kill my erection why don't you?" Hardison whines. Eliot snorts and reaches down to help Hardison out.
"No, I've never done that. I've seduced a couple people to get them into a vulnerable position, but the sex wasn't what killed them." Eliot arched up as Parker burrowed under the covers and started paying him some attention.
They're really glad the hotel they booked had provided a room with a queen-sized bed. With the shenanigans they get up to during the ensuing snow day, they really need the space. Plus, at one point Parker insists on making a pillow fort at one point and defending it from Eliot with Hardison's help. That just wouldn't have worked on a twin bed.
Re: Filled: Snow Day (Warnings: mild sensuality)
From:Re: Filled: Snow Day (Warnings: mild sensuality)
From:Re: Filled: Snow Day (Warnings: mild sensuality)
From:Re: Filled: Snow Day (Warnings: mild sensuality)
From:no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 10:08 am (UTC)No fill, but...
Date: 2012-12-16 11:11 pm (UTC)Re: No fill, but...
From:no subject
Date: 2012-12-15 10:10 am (UTC)