Wednesday: Obsession

[arnica.livejournal.com]

It's me again! Good morning Dears and Darlings and other assorted people! Today let's talk about obsession.

Obsess over food, people, and places. Use the word lightly in reference to desserts and shopping. Don't be afraid to go there with love and betrayal. Touch all the red things three times without anyone seeing you do it.


As always...

* No more than five prompts in a row
* No more than three prompts per fandom
* If one or more of your prompts is filled today, then you may prompt again
* No spoilers within prompts until a week after the airdate/release
* Warn for spoilers in bold and leave at least three spaces before the text

For Example...

Supernatural, Lucifer/Sam, He wants to crawl inside Sam and know him completely before he burns him away.

Torchwood/Doctor Who, Jack/The Master, It picks at his thoughts, an unsolvable puzzle taunting him everytime the Freaks sits up again, screaming to him 'come find how I work'

The Fairy Godmother series, Any Godmother/Any, The Tradition and obsessive behavior go together like cake and icing.

Supernatural, Castiel, OCD as a coping method to becoming human.

Torchwood, Jack/John Hart, Any attention is the right kind

Comments

[caz251.livejournal.com]

Harry Potter, Harry/Tom Riddle's Diary, Is it obsession? Or something more?

[ms-bekahrose.livejournal.com]

Merlin, Mordred, Merlin/Arthur, It's a compulsion.

[sksdwrld.livejournal.com]

Mordred tried to tell himself that the thing with Arthur and Merlin of two Fridays past was just that: a thing. Just a memory to be drudged up from the recesses of his brain when the other imagery in the wank-bank wasn't working. But his brain wasn't listening.

On the street and in shops, every blonde man reminded him of Arthur. He thought of Merlin each time a laugh wafted his way. He couldn't look at a sandwich without reliving that evening. One morning, he'd taken one look at a donut, still warm and with glaze dripping into the hole at the center and fled the bakery in mortification that someone might be able to read his thoughts.

He'd composed and deleted hundreds of texts to Arthur,let his thumb hover over the call button more times than he cared to count, and had changed his sheets at three times thanks to pleasant dreams.

Finally, Mordred's compulsion outweighed his inhibitions. He thumbed in a quick text and shot it off before he could stop himself.

Any good cases lately? Miss me?

Within minutes, he had his answer. A picture text of Arthur's cock poised in front of Merlin's arse. Wish you were here.

[ms-bekahrose.livejournal.com]

Black Sails, Billy Bones, "He needs it."

[wanderlust48.livejournal.com]

Merlin /Arthur. Merlin knew he shouldn't be using his magic on Arthur like that, he knew it but he couldn't help himself.

warnings for dubcon

[sksdwrld.livejournal.com]

It's not the first, nor the second nor even the fifth time that Merlin has performed this particular spell on Arthur. Deep in his core, he knows that it's wrong, but he tells himself that it's all okay because nothing that feels this good, this right, could be harmful.

What's a few hours of idiocy and intimacy between friends such as they? And Arthur always sleeps so well afterwards that Merlin can convince himself that what he's really doing is bestowing a gift upon his king.

He never breeches Arthur, although he often takes his thighs or his mouth, careful not to bruise him with the pads of his fingers.

Arthur is inside of him now, pounding away with the blissful enthusiasm that only the simple can completely achieve and it is glorious. Merlin will feel it for days and he will tell himself with each stilted step that this time was the absolute, very last time, until the burn and the ache fades completely and the whispers start again. They beg. They plead. They convince him that he needs it, just once more.

And he does. Merlin needs his king.

[ms-bekahrose.livejournal.com]

Any, Any/Any, "Gasping, clutching, clasping."

[ms-bekahrose.livejournal.com]

The Confessions of Dorian Gray, Dorian, "The night has a thousand eyes."

[sksdwrld.livejournal.com]

There is a hill a ways behind Toby's flat and tonight, the warm winds blow the grass lazily to and fro. It is the sort of hill that grown men reminisce about rolling down in the days of their youth and though I have none of my own memories to recall, I think about creating some. I let the grass seep through my fingers as if it were Toby's hair and dig my heels into the grass the way I'd do if it were Toby's back and my legs were around him.

The air caresses me like a lover's breath and I strain to hear the whispers on the wind so I might pretend Toby is telling me his secrets instead of laughing at me from afar. The stars wink down at me, nasty little voyeurs that they are, but I am not ashamed.

I want what I want and to be denied is such glorious torture that sometimes I hope that Toby never gives me the satisfaction of a kiss and I shall go on this way forever, in the dizzying spiral of lust that has no peak.

I stop myself before I spill the seeds of my desire onto the hillside lest they grow monstrously in my absence, sit up, and stare at the window of Toby's flat. The light has just gone out and the air has stilled. My heart beats and the shadows move around me,the way they always have.

[purplemoon3.livejournal.com]

Harry Potter, Harry/Voldemort, The Dark Lord found our Harry was a Horcrux before 7th Year.

[purplemoon3.livejournal.com]

Harry Potter, Ron the Death Eater, All the Chocolate Frog Cards. ALL OF THEM.

[purplemoon3.livejournal.com]

Stargate/Thor, Linea + Loki, Power comes in many forms.

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

TBBT, Leonard+Penny, Knock knock knock. "Penny."

[http://users.livejournal.com/_morning_glow/]

Welcome to Night Vale, Cecil/Carlos, Cecil's obsession with Carlos is mostly endearing...until it's not

Cathode Ray Tubes

[ereshai.livejournal.com]

"Oh, Carlos. Beautiful Carlos." Cecil's voice crooned through the radio. "I don't want to bore you, listeners, so I won't go into details, but let me tell you, you haven't seen perfection until you've seen what certain scientists keep in their lab coats. Let's just say, I'll never look at a cathode ray tube the same way again."

Carlos blushed. He hadn't thought Cecil was that interested in his impromptu lesson on the history of television, especially since the Sheriff's Secret Police had confiscated everything with a screen last month. (Educational programs were being projected into the sky at night; the ever-present cloud cover made an excellent backdrop for them.)

"An update on Telly the Barber. He's back in business, folks, and he's offering a discount to anyone whose name isn't Carlos, and is not a scientist with perfect teeth and hair. You know, I'm glad Telly has seen the error of his ways. His time in the desert must have been very enlightening. Who knows what mysteries may be revealed to us, in the desert? What lost purpose will you find? What secrets may be uncovered? What selfish lies will wither and die in the light of the unforgiving, all-seeing, sun? I know what I'd like to be revealed to me! Where did I lose my sunglasses? I last saw them right around the time Telly took his sabbatical. Isn't that a coincidence? And now, the weather."

Carlos tuned out the incomprehensible noise that followed Cecil's announcement. Some people claimed to hear music, others an actual weather report. One or two people had mentioned eldritch chanting, but he hadn't been able to find them again to get more details.

"Listeners, I have a tough question. If you, in the course of your duties as a radio host, discovered something that...reflects negatively...on someone, and this someone is someone that you like, or maybe even love, yes, love is definitely on the table. Let's just say you discovered this someone has been deceiving you. That's right! Betraying you, and with your worst enemy! Who, for example, might be named something like Stan Clarksberg. What would you do, listeners, if you discovered that good old Stan knows just as much about cathode ray tubes as you do?"

Carlos tugged at the ropes binding his wrists to the chair. They weren't any looser than they had been that morning. He eyed the odd, pod-like, organic growth in the corner. It was definitely bigger than it had been before his short nap. If he could just get a closer look, who knows what wonders he might discover. Hopefully, when Cecil returned, he would finally be ready to listen, and untie him. Poor Cecil, he'd been under a lot of stress lately. But everything would be cleared up soon.

"That's all from me, listeners. I'm going to go home and get a good night's rest. Things will be much better in the morning. You might say everything will be brand new. Stay tuned for the sound of crickets chirping, as interpreted by the City Council, on violas. Good night, Night Vale. Good night."

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward(+Ling or /Winry or +Alphonse), A taste for Xingese food.

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

Fullmetal Alchemist, Kimblee+Scar, Kimblee will hunt down the Ishvalan until he destroys him.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_morning_glow/]

MCU/Iron Man, Tony/Pepper, Rescue!Pepper. After he blew up all the suits, Pepper assumed Tony's anxiety-fueled suit-making obsession was done, but he still can't sleep and he starts making suits for both of them.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_morning_glow/]

MCU/Agents of SHIELD, Fury & Coulson (or Fury/Coulson). What is it about Coulson that made Fury go to such extremes to bring him back?

[daria234.livejournal.com]

This got long so it's here:
http://archiveofourown.org/works/1171357

[ivotedforsaxon.livejournal.com]

Fright Night (2011)/Teen Wolf (TV), Jerry/Stiles, I want to be your obsession

[youaredriving.livejournal.com]

He could feel the kid stalking him. Jerry felt those light amber eyes on his back the moment he showed up in Beacon Hills, he just couldn’t quit pinpoint where the boy was. Every time he had gotten close, could taste Stiles because he was that close, all scent would disappear and he’d be back on the chase.

Jungle was hot, full of writhing bodies and somewhere in the tangle of humans Jeff knew that Stiles was somewhere here and he was going to get what he had come for. He slipped in between the hands reaching out to tease and entice him. He had no mind for them. He was focused on one person and he had finally found him.

Stiles was pressed knee to chest against a taller, darker haired man, their groins rocking against each other’s in time with the bass line. Stiles knew he was here. If that cocky upwards curl of his lips were anything to go by and the way he tilted his head back, just enough to tease.

Jerry wasted no time. He slipped his hands along Stiles’ hips and tugged him back. Stiles’ companion cocked a brow as if he were asking if this were okay before he flashed his eyes a brilliant red. The surge of adrenaline that rushed through his body at the thought of being able to take Stiles away from an alpha, knowing that his prey was more familiar with the supernatural made his blood sing in anticipation. He couldn’t resist tasting the skin at the hollow of Stiles’ throat. He smirked at the low groan emitted from Stiles’ lips.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Stiles uttered as he rocked his hips tightly against Jerry’s.

“Didn’t expect to be here,” Jerry admitted as he dragged his lips up the milky column of Stile’s throat and hesitated just above Stiles’ open mouth. “But I can’t seem to get enough of you yet little hunter.”

[tigriswolf]

Lord of the Rings, any character (but probably Frodo) + Bilbo, "How did you give it up?"

Fill - A Light In Shadows 1/3 (Elrond + Bilbo)

[icarus-chained.livejournal.com]

[Not Frodo, but I hope Elrond will do just as well? I think this is movieverse, it's been so long since I read the books that I'd be afraid I'd forgotten things -_-;]

A Light In Shadows

"... How did you do it?" Elrond found himself asking, standing beside Bilbo with his elbows resting on a parapet, an odd and pensive mood taking hold of him. His friend, so much more frail now, so aged and trembling and fragile, looked up at him in startlement.

"I'm sorry?" Bilbo asked, his expression creasing in concern as he looked up at him, all the warmth and courage of a stout little spirit coming to the fore as he took in the shadow in Elrond's eyes, the strange darkness that had come upon him. "I'm afraid ... I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

Elrond shook his head, turning back to look once more out over the moonlit vale beneath them, to cast his eyes out along the path so recently traced by the Fellowship. A faint anger stirred within him, moved by memories that had not raised themselves in years, and a distant, troubled confusion stirred beside it. The echoes of a past long buried, and of a shadow that had raised itself again, drawing ancient betrayals behind it. Here, in the privacy and solace of Bilbo's company, where none should see the shadow come upon him, he found himself cast adrift by those echoes, and only Bilbo's pale concern to tether him still.

It wasn't fair. Not to ask this, not to bring these shadows up and tangle them about this frail creature so recently brought free of them. It wasn't fair to ask this of Bilbo, to ask this of his friend who grew so visibly older and more fragile every day. There were shadows enough these days, a mass of them to south to swallow all they loved between them, without drawing forth old ones once again.

Not fair, no. Nothing Bilbo deserved. And yet, with the shadow come upon him, Elrond could not help but ask.

"The Ring," he explained quietly, while Bilbo silently placed a careful hand upon his arm, while his friend drifted close in bewildered concern. "The one you gave to your nephew. I have wondered ... Forgive me, my friend. But I have wondered how you managed that."

Bilbo blinked, his face creasing in a startled frown. Not in anger, but in a worried confusion, bewildered as to how so innocuous a question could seemingly draw so terrible a mood along with it. As evil as he knew the Ring to be, as unnatural as he had felt beneath its pall of longevity, Bilbo had never truly understood that the Ring was important. Sixty years in its possession, sixty years beneath its touch, and Bilbo had never felt more than a vague possessiveness towards it. It had been a tool and a trinket and a keepsake to him, an evil little curiosity that he had held onto as much, Elrond thought, from nostalgia for the quest that had brought it to him as from any malevolent influence from the Ring itself. Even still, even now, having watched his family march off into unimaginable danger for the sake of destroying it, Bilbo didn't seem to understand how the Ring, in itself, could be so important.

And it was that, more than anything, that moved Elrond to ask. It was that the moved him, with the shadows of Isildur's betrayal awoken within him once more, to turn to the hobbit at his side, and ask how he could hold something so terrible so very, very lightly.

"It desires to be used," he said, as he looked into Bilbo's eyes and sought some glimmer of understanding there. "It draws upon all the darkest desires of those who hold it, and uses them to shape them to its will. It wants, and in wanting forces those around it to want as well. You know this. You have felt it. And yet ... yet when the time came, though you knew that you would fade in its absence and grow older, still you gave it up. You surrendered possession, despite all its urgings, and passed it on."

[tigriswolf]

author's choice, author's choice, wondering about something turns to wanting turns to obsession

Trigger Warning - Self Harm.

[ms-bekahrose.livejournal.com]

Original Piece. (Hope that's okay).

---
It started as a Thought.

She had it once - What does it feel like? - and then she had it again.

And again.

And again.

By the time she realised what she was doing, she was standing in the bathroom and eyeballing the razor blade, purchased on pure instinct. A quick glance over her shoulder to see that the door was locked, and her fingers wrapped around the tiny little packet.

A quick glance over her shoulder to see that the door was locked. She slipped the square into the packet of pills that was designed to keep the storm inside her head at bay, put the packet away and left the bathroom.

A quick glance over her shoulder was all she needed to see that her secret was safe.

The Thought ran around her head in circles. It whispered of relief and silence and peace.

It didn't stop.

She wasn't sure she wanted it to.

She couldn't stop.

She was standing in the bathroom, door shut, fingers trembling. The storm inside her head was loud and messy and crashing and she reached for her secret.

As the clean steel danced across flesh, she bit her lip. The storm blew itself out, quiet wrapped around her in red drops on white porcelaine.

A sad laugh bubbled its way up from her chest, and she finally had her answer.

It felt like bliss.

[gabriel4sam.livejournal.com]

Star Trek reboot , James Kirk!Prime/Reboot!McCoy. He should try to send McCoy back, but this young version of his lover is too much like a forbidden fruit to not have a taste.

[tigriswolf]

Supernatural, Dean/Castiel, 'Castiel' is the personality that took over to protect Jimmy Novak after his family's brutal murder; Castiel is obsessed with Dean Winchester, the man police believe murdered Jimmy's family

(there's no way this can end well)

[rebak1tten.livejournal.com]

No fill but
You have the best prompts!

[tigriswolf]

Supernatural, Dean/Sam, psychotically codependent

FILL: breathless (Dean & Sam, 15+)

[raise_the_knife]

He can't breathe without Sam.

He's done it before; knows it somewhere, where it doesn't matter, because Sam isn't there now. He's not just away, either; he's not down the block with another witness, not running the EMF meter over the house while Dean's distracting the single female resident, not on a run for burgers and salad. He's not there at all.

"But I'm here," Sam says. "I'm right here," and he's gone when Dean looks, of course, because his Sammy can't stay still unless there's a book involved.

"Made you look," Sam says, and he's laughing. The sound falls dead in the shack, and Dean remembers this too; the smell of death, the white skin turning sallow, as if the tan was sucked out of it at the same time as the blood spurted from the artery and left a trail of wet sand to show Dean the way.

"I'm not leaving, Dean;" Sam says. "Where would I go?"

There's no crossroads this time; no favours, no angels, no God. Dean doesn't need them.

"I'm not gone, Dean," Sam says. "I'm right here."

And he is, lying still on the bed, still streaked with dirt and blood and waiting for Dean to breathe for him.

[tigriswolf]

fairy tales, any peasant, princess, or nobleman's daughter, "It isn't ladylike to obsess so about dragons!"

The Dragon Princess

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

Little girls were supposed to learn sewing, and flower language, and how to print properly. How to dress, how to wear their hair, how to speak politely even to those they hated.

"What are you reading so avidly, dear?"

"A book on dragons."

"No, no, you can't read that, that's for boys."

She clutched the book tight when her nanny tried to take it away, even biting her nanny's hand, hard enough to make it bleed. For her bad manners, all her books were taken away, and she had to practice writing, "I shall not bite anyone" over a hundred times a day for the next week.

Young ladies were supposed to learn to dance. To speak properly to possible husbands, and their parents. To be charming over meals. To very gently offer advice (but only if it was asked).

"There's a dragon in my kingdom," the very boring prince said.

Her eyes widened. "Really? What kind?"

He stared and stammered, because he'd mentioned it only off-handedly. She listened anyway, and had her smarter handmaidens sneak books and information on that kingdom back to her rooms as she could. And ten months later, she waas on her way to visit the boring prince in his kingdom, in hopes of meeting a dragon.

Not that she said that, no, she'd learned to be circumspect (much to her mother's delight) and at least had the appearance of lightheartedness (much to her father's). So it was with great delight (hers, and only hers) when the dragon was spotted flying overhead.

When it stooped to attack her princessly caravan, she clapped in delight. When her guards and her handmaidens alternately tried to fight and escape, she stood waiting, ignored in all the chaos.

Except by the dragon, who stalked over to her, neck like a swan's, wings furled high over its back. It studied her as she studied it. She smiled, and curtseyed. The dragon inclined its head in return.

"Manners," it said, its voice sounding like what the princess thought a volcano might, "unusual."

"Your mightyness," she said, "I do try."

"You know, dragons are supposed to eat princesses."

"I suppose they are, but I've never really put much stock in rumors." She leaned closer, as if speaking to a confidant. "Since it seemed all those 'eaten' princesses were just carried off by the dragons. Why is that, I wonder?"

"Would you like to find out?" the dragon asked.

"Oh, please!"

And so, the dragon took away the princess, and vanished from the kingdom. Rumors abounded, of the dragon roasting the princess alive, except the handmaidens didn't believe it. Especially when pretty necklaces appeared on windowsills, of beautiful, ruby-red scales interspersed with golden beads. Wherever their princess was, she was safe.

With the dragon.

[selmak.livejournal.com]

Agents of Shield, FitzSimmons. She's his muse, his angel, his sanity and his best friend. And he plans on keeping it that way, regards of their new team. And he'll do whatever necessary to protect her.

[tigriswolf]

Charmed, Chris + Wyatt, "It's all about power - and those who have it."

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Disney's Sleeping Beauty, Maleficent, it was a small, petty snub - until they hid the girl away

fill

[tigriswolf]

(I haven't seen the live-action film, so anything from that is ignored.)

Had they not destroyed all the spindles, had they not hidden the girl away somewhere out of sight (though not out of reach, should she truly search), perhaps her ire would have faded. She is not, after all, unreasonable. It could have been an honest mistake, except that the petty little fairy revealed it had been intentional.

To punish the child for the parents' sin - usually, she does not react so fiercely, so mercilessly. Usually, she returns to her palace and time lessens everything.

But they hide the girl away. They hide her away and all she can think for sixteen long years is that Merriweather will escape unscathed for the insult.

Humans are petty, vindictive, and usually, Maleficent can ignore them because they die so easily, so quickly. But fairies...

"Come, my pet," she says, gliding to the tallest tower to look out over the realm that has been her territory for longer than humans could ever understand. "They want to play a game," she muses to her raven. "Shall I let them think they defeated me?" Her raven grins at her.

"Yes," she agrees. "A fight they seek, and so a fight they shall have."

Had they not hidden the girl away, had Merriweather not been so thoughtless... Maleficent's anger ebbs and flows as the tide, and it could have sunk away.

It is not, truly, the humans who are at fault here, and with the years, Maleficent has come to realize who needs to be punished for the insult.

So she returns to her throne and summons the idiot rabble, sends them out to search for the girl.

The greatest vengeance is to let the enemy have a moment of victory before revealing the trap has been sprung.