free for all

[tigriswolf]

And now let's have the regularly-scheduled free for all.

Y'all know the rules:


*No more than five prompts in a row.
*No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
*No spoilers in prompts.

If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space.

Have fun!

Comments

[tigriswolf]

Guardians of the Galaxy (2014), Star Lord, if he’d kept and been able to use the infinity stone – something to the tune of, all shall love me and despair

[tigriswolf]

Guardians of the Galaxy (2014), Peter Quill, stay away ‘cause that boy’s a warning sign

[tigriswolf]

Guardians of the Galaxy (2014), Peter Quill, crouching moron, hidden badass

[tigriswolf]

The Hunger Games, Rue or Prim or Katniss, my songs know what you did in the dark – so light ‘em up

[tigriswolf]

Tortall, author’s choice, how history remembers Keladry of Mindelan

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Graceland, Paul/Mike or Johnny/Carlito, switching roles in bed

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Almost Human, Kennex/Dorian, Dorian plots to make John have more fun and make friends

Fill:

[thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com]

Kennex glared at the android who was standing, immoveable, in the middle of his kitchen.

“I’m not going,” Kennex said firmly, for the third time.

“Oh but Jo-o-o-hn, it will be fun,” Dorian replied. Was it possible for an android to whine, because this certainly sounded like whining?

“It won’t. There will be people there.”

“Yes. That’s the point.”

“I don’t like people!”

“I promised we’d pick up Vangrass and his wife, on the way. And you know I’m not supposed to go to social events by myself.”

“As if that’s ever stopped you before. Okay! We’ll go.”

Androids might not whine, but this one was certainly smirking.

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Terminator:SCC, Cameron or Weaver or John Henry, they have a strong sense of morality -- it's just not the same as human morality

[jordannamorgan]

D.N.Angel, any: What if the Niwa and Hikari families had chosen to become allies instead of enemies?

A Balance of Measures

[vesca-viridian.livejournal.com]

“Symbiosis,” Daisuke’s mother says to him when he is six, just old enough to start questioning why he has to learn to become a thief. “Two creatures existing and supporting each other because neither would survive on their own.”

Emiko brushes Daisuke’s bangs from his face. His face tilts up, eyes wide with the need to understand. “The Hikari create; the Niwa steal. It’s a compulsion we both share, but one that’s dangerous to both of us. So we protect the Hikari from themselves and the works they create. We care for their works of art after they have moved on to the next work and keep the dangerous ones from causing harm.”

“And the Hikari?” Daisuke asks.

“The Hikari protect us from the law and keep us from being too greedy.” She smiled. “We balance each others’ worst traits to bring about our best.”

***

Once upon a time there was an artist who created beautiful paintings that enchanted the viewer. But no matter what the artist created, it was never enough, and bit by bit, he lost himself in his art.

*

Once upon a time there was a thief that fell in love with an artist’s works. Piece by piece he amassed a collection of stolen art, but the more art he stole, the more he longed to have more. And so the thief waited for the artist to paint his masterwork, watching the canvas fill brush stroke by brush stroke.

***

“We must be careful,” Satoshi’s mother murmurs, “what we create.” Her brush glides across the canvas, a smooth arc of color in an expanse of white. “We breathe life into our art, but for what? To create for the sake of creating? Or are we striving for a pinnacle much like our ancestor did?”

Brush stroke by brush, wings appear, black and white with highlights or red and blue and gold and purple. Feathers fight for dominance, but from where Satoshi sits he can see the painting as a whole and the balance within it.

“Our art can be something wonderful, or it can drive us to madness.” She sets the brush down into water, picks up a new one, thinner, for fine details. Motes of dust come into being, light and shadow creating depth and mystique. It is not clear what the wings belong to as the wings fill the canvas in its entirety. “Krad and Dark are a legacy of our clans’ madness.”

This Satoshi already knows. There is a boy his age in the Niwa clan. They have not met yet, but he knows that when they do, Krad and Dark will surface to acknowledge the ties between the clans.

“Some say that Krad and Dark are curses, spirits bound to our DNA born from the painting that started it all. Some say that they are the spirits of the first members of our clan; an artist that lost himself to his art and the thief that lost himself stealing it.”

“Which do you think, Mother?” Satoshi asks, the first he has spoken since she began painting.

She smiles, pausing in her work to meet his eyes. “I do not know since Krad and Dark’s genes skipped this generation in the main branch. But I do know that Krad and Dark have equal capacity to do good and to cause harm; it’s up to us to never call on them with the darkness in our own hearts. So long as our ties are strong and our hearts at peace, our clans will be strong.”

***

Once upon a time there was an artist that created great and terrible works of art, and once upon a time there was a thief that stole them. To the artist and the thief, there was no greater acknowledgement than the attention of the other. But as the artist poured life into his works, the less he had in himself until he had one last masterpiece to create.

To the thief challenging from afar, it would be his finest heist.

And so both brought ruin upon the other.

***

[daria234.livejournal.com]

MCU, Tony/Bruce or Tony/Sam or Tony/Fitz, Tony keeps detailed charts and data analytics on what his partner likes in bed, in what positions, for how long, in what mood, with what other activity combinations, etc. When his partner finds out, instead of being creeped out, the partner thinks it's cool and creative.

[daria234.livejournal.com]

MCU/The Covenant/Kings/Political Animals, Steve/various characters played by Sebastian Stan, Steve Rogers is stuck travelling to different realities and meeting AU Bucky's until he returns to his own reality and finds his Bucky. Along the way, these various other Buckys (TJ, Jack, whatever characters you know, doesn't have to be the ones mentioned) all want to sleep with Steve, and some of them do.

fill 1/3

[likewinning.livejournal.com]

[

--

my heart steady as a snare drum

He falls from a train and you watch him, shout after him, cry out until your throat feels raw. You smash up everything in your path, every HYDRA agent you can find. You steer a crashing plane straight into the ocean to save millions of lives. Their lives are worth saving – but as to your own, as the water covers you, all you think about is the one you were too late to save.

When you wake up again, you're in a kingdom. You wake up a soldier in an army, though this time it's less about saving the world than it is about land and politics, blood rights and God with a capital G.

For you, land is just dirt that others have drawn lines in, and blood is just what comes out when you don't duck fast enough, until you watch the morning news and see him on television – the King's son. Your King's son.

The prince is well-dressed, well-spoken. He's not Bucky, but he looks, maybe, even better than Bucky did in his dress blues. You ask your fellow soldiers about him, and they laugh and say the prince can have anyone, that he's been making scandalous headlines for years.

There are those who say the prince's tastes are more – sinful than he makes them out to be.

You want to know, want to get close enough to know if his heart resembles Bucky's the same way his face does, but you're not sure how yet. You carry out your duties like a good soldier. The men like you for your bravery and your smart mouth. They like you no less when you risk everything to save the King's son.

He's not – particularly grateful, at first. In public, he stands attentive while King Silas makes his speech. You drift in and out, your attention mostly focused on the man you just saved, the one who looks like Bucky, but isn't.

The prince ("It's just Jack, seriously, we're past that") offers to show you the town. You don't tell him it's nothing compared to Brooklyn, compared to midtown after sunset. You watch as he pushes himself further down a rabbit hole of vice, and you follow him there.

His lips are soft against yours, and he tastes like sin and smoke, greed and desperation. He tells you that you shouldn't have saved him all while his nails dig into your skin, while his teeth leave marks on your neck that the boys back on the front line will surely notice, if you ever see them again.

Your sense of loyalty, here, is skewed. When you should be serving the King, Jack is who you really care about, who you seek out when the city goes dark. You find him alone in a crowd, slightly drunk; you find him and he throws his arms around you and says, "Captain. Steve," and sounds far more grateful than the time you saved his life. His men disperse, and you take him back to the apartment Silas appointed to you, a room with not much of a view but with a bed, a couch, a desk for drawing.

("Is that supposed to be me?" Jack asks once, laughter in his voice, and you don't have the heart to tell him no – not exactly.

He doesn't have any idea who you used to be.)

He pulls you on top of him as the candles flutter around you, laughs against your mouth when you wince at the feel of his nails on your skin. He smells like royalty and privilege; tastes like a man who couldn't even pretend to be pious, not for all the kingdoms in the world. He grips you firmly in his hands, pushes you inside of him, finds your eyes in the dark and holds you there.

You are still with him when the lights return. You are still with him months later when he tells you – just you – about the plot against the King.

"It's too late," he says. "I can't get out of it, now. My uncle…"

You know about his uncle. Rich man, warmonger. These days, a creepy little son for a sidekick. The uncle sees you for a fool, an errand boy for the crown. He hardly sees you at all.

"I want them gone," Jack whispers to you. He shouldn't be here; his father has threatened his blood rights if he catches him with any man, even you. Especially you.

"All of them," he says. "All those bloodthirsty, scheming men. I want them gone so I can fix this."

[fresh-brainss.livejournal.com]

Disney, Elsa/Jasmine, I can't go back to where I used to be.

[effingeden.livejournal.com]

Murdered: Soul Suspect; Rex/Ronan; Ronan had expected the Shovel Talk, but he hadn't expected *this*

[iceybreath.livejournal.com]

The Secret Garden, Colin/Mary/Dickon, a world of our own.

[iceybreath.livejournal.com]

Brave New World, Helmholtz/Bernard, more than you ever wanted.

[iceybreath.livejournal.com]

Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter, Henry/Abe, life doesn't always end at death.

[nevcolleil.livejournal.com]

Any, any, While You Were Sleeping AU

[effingeden.livejournal.com]

Assassin's Creed; Desomnd/Subject 13; Desmond said 'yes' to Clay - Clay mostly just rides shotgun and murmurs things to Desmond but sometimes Desmond lets him take the wheel.

[tardisjournal.livejournal.com]

Any, any, "He's a god, he's a man, he's a ghost, he's a guru"

(Lyric from "Red Right Hand" by Nick Cave)

“All Things To All Men” Torchwood, Jack/Ianto, Doctor – PG-13

[bk_forever]

Not sure if this is quite what you wanted, but...


“So,” said Ianto drowsily, sprawled across his bed in the afterglow, “this Doctor of yours, tell me about him?”

Jack chuckled. “Jealous?”

“Not that you’d notice. Should I be?” He sounded amused.

“No, you really shouldn’t. The Doctor is… hard to define. He’s been called a lot of things; the lonely god, the Oncoming Storm, a meddler, a teacher, a prophet, a myth… He shows up somewhere, saves the day then slips away like he was never there; a ghost or a shadow, briefly glimpsed but never forgotten. He doesn’t do goodbyes, never sticks around afterwards, but just by doing what he does, he inspires people to be better than they are.”

“Sounds pretty impressive.”

“He can be. But you know what? For all his knowledge, wisdom, compassion and rage, when it comes right down to it, he’s just a man, not so different from any other. He has the same faults and failings, the same doubts and insecurities, the same fears, hopes and dreams. He’s just lived longer and seen more than other men. His hearts still break when he loses someone who matters to him, and everyone matters to him, so his hearts break a lot. He doesn’t give up though, just moves on to another world, another time, another mission of mercy, trying to make the universe a better place.”

Ianto smiled and traced his fingertips over Jack’s chest, lingering above his heart.

“You could be describing yourself.”

Jack snorted.

“Hardly. I shouldn’t even exist; I’m a mistake, an aberration. I try to live up to his ideals, but I’m just a poor imitation.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Jack. You may only have one heart, but you’re every bit the hero you describe. The only difference is that you don’t run away after the battle is over; you stay and help rebuild. By being here, you’re serving as guide and teacher to this world. The time will come when humanity becomes aware that we’re not alone in the universe, and then the earth is going to need all your knowledge and wisdom to make sure we don’t screw up. After all, we can’t always count on your Doctor to show up when he’s needed.”

“That’s quite a burden you’re handing me.” Jack looked at Ianto, completely serious now.

“Yes it is, but you can handle it. Trust me; I’ve seen the future, you won’t be facing it alone.”

Even though he didn’t understand what Ianto meant by that last statement, Jack couldn’t help the little spark of hope that ignited inside him. Maybe his future wouldn’t be as bleak as he’d thought.


The End

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

MCU, any/any, Ims textiofg thsi woht my noes bcuz my hansd aer stli handcuffde to teh bedfrme. Help me (TFLN)

cracky Jason/Darcy fill + Dick Grayson to the rescue

[quitehopeless.livejournal.com]

A/N: I hope it's okay if one of the any is MCU even though the focus is on a couple of DCU characters. Because my brain went Darcy/Jason, only he's the one that got cuffed and he had to get rescued by Dick.

---

Ims textiofg thsi woht my noes bcuz my hansd aer stli handcuffde to teh bedfrme. Help me.

Dick frowned at his phone, opening his mouth and then shutting it when his brain caught up to him enough to realize it was a text.

From Jason.

Very funny, Dick sent back, but I'm not that stupid.

No okje. D psisde. Help.

After what you did to the Batcave?

Pls. Dick.

Amazing that autocorrect got that right, but then again, it had a very dirty mind. Dick knew that all too well. You better not be lying.

---

“Quit laughing.”

“You dragged me out of bed in the middle of the night. I have a right to laugh,” Dick said, shaking his head. “Only you, Jason.”

“Shut up, dickhead, and get me out of this.”

“You might think about being nicer. So far I haven't taken any pictures, and I could send them to everyone,” Dick reminded him. “They'd start up a whole new line of porn starting the Red Hood or something.”

“I hate you.”

“You texted me, remember?”

“Yeah, well, I was typing with my nose. I didn't have a lot of choice.”

Dick let out a breath. “What did you do to make Darcy mad, anyway? I mean, she's been pretty forgiving so far. She knows you're crazy and still willingly has sex with you. You screwed up a good thing.”

“You don't want to know.”

“Yeah,” Dick agreed when he thought about it. “I'm pretty sure I don't.”

“The cuffs? Sometime today, Dickie-bird?”

Dick picked up Jason's phone and sent a short text. I'm sorry.

“What did you do?”

“You'll thank me for it later. Now I need to get you out of those cuffs before I go blind.”

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Author's choice, author's choice, I wish drunk me came with subtitles (TFLN)

fill: Agents of SHIELD - the drunken cavalry - [Daisy's POV]

[hanorganaas.livejournal.com]

"What is May saying?" Daisy asked as she looked at the scene in front of her.

Hydra had to be involved in this. Instead of there being a calm comprised woman who always followed the rules, there was a woman, touchy and feeling, and laughing at even the most ridiculous sayings.

Melinda May was currently talking to this person she randomly met at the bar. Waving her hands in the air as she was making gargling noises.

Daisy was kinda frightened at this. It wasn't the Cavalry...it was an imposter!

"Hey May," Jemma asked. "Daisy wants to know what you are saying."

Melinda turned to face them, her face twisted in a creepy smile. Her makeup was already smudging she was a mess.

"I AM DOING MY BEST IMITATION OF CHEWBACCA EYAHHHHHH!!!"

Daisy sighed and placed her head in her hand, and on that day Daisy Johnson declared she was nerver taking Melinda May to the bar with her and Jemma again.

[ivotedforsaxon.livejournal.com]

X-Men (movieverse), John/Bobby, "You are as cold as ice, but I got the heat to warm you up." "Really? That's what you're going with?"

[ivotedforsaxon.livejournal.com]

Revolution, Miles/Bass + Jeremy, AU where Jeremy is a telepath and knows way too much about his friends.

[nevcolleil.livejournal.com]

The Prestige, Angier +or/ Borden, there was still one more of him left when Borden shot him in the theater; what happens the next time they meet?

[samueljames]

Franklin & Bash, Jared/Peter, bed.

fill

[oh-mcgee.livejournal.com]

Peter hates Jäger. Despite this, when the coeds at the party yelled “Jägerbombs!” there was no way he couldn’t join in because that would make him old and Peter is not old. He just doesn’t like Jäger.

Peter also can’t feel his legs. Though that may have less to do with all the horrible alcohol he consumed last night and more to do with the Jared shaped person draped across him on the couch, wearing nothing but a very tiny pair of boxer briefs.

When Carmen clears her throat it sounds like a wrecking crew. “You guys mind, uh, getting a room, maybe?”

“Sure,” Peter says, silently cursing Carmen and himself for not being telepathic. “Soon as Jared, ugh, moves. C’mon, buddy. I’m losing circulation to some important extremities here.”

Jared turns his head to the side and mumbles something unintelligible and wipes his drool on Peter’s chest.

“C’mon, Jared. Up. You’re scarring Carmen for life.”

Finally, after copious amount of shoving and encouragement, Jared finally makes it into a half sitting up position, his eyes slowly opening like a newborn kitten’s until he can make out Carmen standing in front of them, hand on her hip, scowling.

“We talked about this. Remember? No more falling asleep half naked on the couch. It makes Pindar cranky. Besides, that’s what they make beds for.”

“Right,” Jared nods, arms stretched out, yawning. “Sorry, mom. Won’t happen again.”

Carmen just stares at him like she’s heard that one a few million times before.

”Hey, stud,” Jared pokes at Peter who looks like he’s dozing back off.

“Thas me honey,” He mumbles,

Jared grins. See, that’s why he and Peter work so well. Even in his most inebriated, hungover state, Peter can pick up on Jared’s most obscure pop culture references. He stands up and holds his hand out for Peter, turning his voice up an octave or two. “Take me to bed or lose me forever.”

Peter scratches his chest, then takes Jared’s hand, throwing his arm around Jared’s shoulders once he’s standing. “Show me the way home, honey.”