Mardi: Hurt/Comfort
Apr. 30th, 2013 12:37 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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comment_ficIt's 12:30 am in my neck of the woods, which means it's time for Day 2! The theme for today is my personal favorite type of fic, hurt/comfort. They say we hurt the ones we love, so let's do that today, then make them feel a little better afterwards.
Please remember the rules so everyone can have a good time:
No more than five prompts in a row.
No more than three prompts from one fandom at a time.
No spoilers in your prompt until at least one week after the original airing/publication date. If there are spoilers in your fic, warn in bold and leave at least three spaces
Please always use the following format to make it easier on the code monkeys:
Fandom(s), character or pairing, prompt.
And here are a few examples, to get you started.
Star Trek (2009); Jim/Bones; when everything is over and they are safe again, one of them breaks down
Les Miserables, Combeferre and/or Joly, treating the wounded at the barricade
Supernatural; Sam/Dean or Dean/Castiel; nothing he does can combat Dean's memories of hell, but that won't stop him from trying
[Themetag: hurt/comfort]
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no subject
Date: 2013-04-30 05:38 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2013-04-30 05:38 am (UTC)Fill - SPN Drabble
Date: 2013-04-30 08:42 pm (UTC)Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel
Rating: G
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Dean shudders beneath his blanket, arms and legs pulling in tight against his body.
Castiel watches from his invisible perch on the edge of Dean's bed. Dean's face is drawn, body twitching defensively. His lips part and his breath sounds harsh in the quiet room.
Castiel doesn't need to probe Dean's mind to know what he's dreaming. He can feel the heat of Hell's fire on Dean's skin as he reaches out to tap two fingers to his charge's forehead.
Dean relaxes instantly under Castiel's touch.
Castiel leaves his hand pressed to Dean's cheek for the rest of the night.
---
Re: Fill - SPN Drabble
From:Re: Fill - SPN Drabble
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Date: 2013-04-30 06:11 am (UTC)Drabble fill
Date: 2017-03-28 04:38 am (UTC)He's also as heartbroken as she is. He watches her, hands pressed to her stomach, sobs wracking her body, and can't say any of that. She may have made the decision to take on the dangerous mission, but she's suffering this loss too.
He's so torn, and he hates all of it, but he does what he knows is right. He sits next to his wife and draws her into his arms.
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Date: 2013-08-25 07:20 am (UTC)So she strolls into the TV area and plants herself between the sofa and the screen. Drakken narrows his eyebrows at once, but his expression lacks the usual heat her intrusiveness earns. Now it’s her turn to frown. He’s worse than she thought.
“Shego,” he says, “I’m trying to watch this.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m standing here. It’s kind of hard to pull off the whole ‘evil genius’ thing after you've fried your brain with this reality garbage.”
“Pots and kettles, Shego.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m not the one saving Clam Kings to the DVR.”
She balls her fist. “All right fine, forget the show. The point is that you’ve been slouching around since yesterday, and it’s time to get moving. Don’t you have a Sonic-Neuro-whatever you can build? Or, ooh, we could steal something.”
Dr. D’s last few plans had all used his own inventions, which means she hasn't had a good smash and grab in weeks. Heck, if it gets him off the couch she might even consider stealing that advanced book copy he’s been nagging her about, because apparently it was just too good, Shego! for him to wait until its midnight release like all the other nerds.
With a heavy sigh he reaches for another Submarino. “What’s the point? You know as well as I do what’s going to happen.”
She lunges forward, and he lets out a startled squawk as she snatches the wrapped Submarino out of his hand. For good measure she picks up the box of them as well, then incinerates both with her Glow.
“Shego!”
Drakken clambers up with sparks in his eyes. Good. She levels a still-Glowing finger at him, and is rewarded with his wide-eyed attention.
“I know what’s not gonna happen,” she says, “you’re not gonna give up just because Kimmie and her little boyfriend did what they always do. All that means is you have to be better. Are you telling me you really can't outsmart a couple of teenagers and a rat?”
“Of course I can!”
He thumps his fists on the sofa cushion for emphasis, sending an avalanche of cake crumbs down his sweatshirt and onto the cushions and floor. She resists the urge to groan and slap her forehead, but it’s a near thing.
“All right then,” she says, “prove it.” She points to his work area at the other end of the space. “Get over there and come up with a plan to pop all the corn in Iowa, or to unleash a plague of panda bears, or, I don't know, whatever. Just have it ready when I come in on Monday, because I’m going home.”
He leaps to his feet as she passes the end of the sofa on her way to the door.
“Corn! That’s brilliant, Shego! I'll threaten to destroy the entire corn belt unless the world’s governments bow to my demands. And as for Kim Possible, well, she’s going to have quite the surprise when she faces my— my— butter canon!”
This time when the urge to slap her forehead arises, she indulges.
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