Ahoy-hoy Everyone
Sep. 8th, 2014 11:13 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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comment_ficAhoy-hoy all, my name is ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
classics_lover and I'm your host for the week :)
Today's theme is Drabbles! Prompts can be anything your little hearts desire but fills must be 100 words. Enjoy!
The Rules
No more than five prompts in a row
No more than three prompts for a single fandom in a row
No spoilers in prompts
If your fill contains spoilers warn and leave plenty of space
If in doubt use LJ'sspoiler tag
Prompts should be formatted as follows:
Fandom, character/character, prompt
Some examples to get the ball rolling...
+ MCU, any + any, "Let us never speak of it again."
+ Assassin's Creed, Ezio (+ any), pride
+ Mass Effect, M!Shepard (+ any LI), MAN FLU
Theme tag= Drabbles/100 words
classics_lover and I'm your host for the week :)Today's theme is Drabbles! Prompts can be anything your little hearts desire but fills must be 100 words. Enjoy!
The Rules
No more than five prompts in a row
No more than three prompts for a single fandom in a row
No spoilers in prompts
If your fill contains spoilers warn and leave plenty of space
If in doubt use LJ's
Prompts should be formatted as follows:
Fandom, character/character, prompt
Some examples to get the ball rolling...
+ MCU, any + any, "Let us never speak of it again."
+ Assassin's Creed, Ezio (+ any), pride
+ Mass Effect, M!Shepard (+ any LI), MAN FLU
Theme tag= Drabbles/100 words
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2014-09-08 10:15 pm (UTC)Fill, Clint & Coulson, 1/1
Date: 2014-09-08 11:38 pm (UTC)"No."
"The ticking?"
"Muffin timer."
"So I just shot a-"
"Mysterious backpack with an easy-bake oven inside it. Yes."
"Huh."
The agents around them pretended to busy themselves herding off civilians and sticking yellow tape everywhere. When one met Coulson's eyes, he drew his brows together and frowned until she turned away with a squeak. Clint kicked what had once been a backpack before his arrows blew it up.
"Fake your reports and pretend it was a dud?"
Phil paused. Phil pondered. Phil nodded. "Let us never speak of this again."
"Yeah."
Re: Fill, Clint & Coulson, 1/1
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From:no subject
Date: 2014-09-08 10:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-08 10:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-08 10:16 pm (UTC)Fill: Doctor Who, 11 + Amy + Rory,
Date: 2014-09-09 12:50 am (UTC)The Doctor's bellow brought them stumble-running to the main console, sleep-tussled and bristling for universal implosion.
What they got was home-bound explosion: with a screech-bang, the TARDIS lurched through space-time and threw a shower of blue sparks from a dozen seams and panels.
"What's going on? Are we being attacked?"
The Doctor whirled, flailing hands turning into accusing points, directed at Amy. He stopped short. Frowned. "Not you."
"What, 'not you'? You called me. Loudly. Very loudly. I was sleeping, and then there's you, all 'POND!!!'" Amy glowered, batting away a pointy-finger.
"Not you-Pond. Other-Pond. Mister-Pond. Nurse Pond!" Pointy-fingers became graspy-hands, hauling Rory toward the controls. "Assess. Analyse. Diagnose."
"What?" Rory's pajamas were gently smoldering. The Doctor batted at him as he shoved again, right into the next firework bang of glittering embers.
"What, 'what?' What sort of a nurse are you? Don't you know a sneeze when you hear one?" He gestured up, out, around, a magnificent panic-twirl indicating everywhere, all at once.
"It's a ship." Rory looked to Amy for backup. Amy's eyes widened and she shook her head vehemently. Too late.
"She is ill. You are a-- oh, forget it. Give us your mobile. I'm calling Martha."
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From:no subject
Date: 2014-09-08 10:17 pm (UTC)Fill: We've Been Here Before (Revolution, Bass/Miles)
Date: 2014-09-09 01:22 am (UTC)"Not yet."
"Wait," Miles shoves at Bass' shoulders. “Come on, man. Don't ruin it."
"Don't ruin what? You’re saying this now?" Bass sits up, scrubbing a hand through his ridiculously curly hair. Miles wonders for a minute if the other man uses some kind of junk from a salon.
"I can't believe I'm saying anything, period," Miles sighs.
Bass stares at him - blue eyes for days, hurt expression, strong arms.
Miles' friend. His brother.
He can't.
Bass watches him leave, sitting on his bed until his ass aches, waiting for Miles to come back.
Re: Fill: We've Been Here Before (Revolution, Bass/Miles)
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From:no subject
Date: 2014-09-08 10:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-08 10:53 pm (UTC)Fill: "sleepyhead," Sam/Steve, PG, 1/1
Date: 2014-09-09 03:57 am (UTC)Sam groaned, still half-asleep. “Congratulations.” He rolled over, pulling the pillow over his head to block the mid-morning sun.
Steve laughed, stepping out of his running shoes and shorts, body still damp with sweat. “I’m heading into the shower,” he said. “You’re welcome to join me.”
Sam peeked out from under the pillow, smiling at his naked boyfriend.
Steve glanced back. “But I suppose you do deserve some rest.”
“Screw that,” Sam said, peeling back the blankets.
Re: Fill: "sleepyhead," Sam/Steve, PG, 1/1
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From:no subject
Date: 2014-09-08 10:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-09 12:55 am (UTC)“It's not so bad, Hardison. It's not as cold as that one time in Antarctica.”
“Not fair, Eliot. You always brings that up when I complain about the cold. It doesn't mean it isn't cold now.”
“What are you guys talking about?”
“The cold.”
“Antarctica.”
“Ooohh, the penguin.”
“Parker, don't remind me of the penguin.”
“But it was so cute.”
“It bit me.”
“That was your fault.”
“How so?”
“You made it mad.”
“You did make it mad.”
“Fine! But it's still cold!”
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Date: 2014-09-08 10:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-08 10:56 pm (UTC)Fill: What He Doesn't Know... (Graceland, Mike/Paul)
Date: 2014-09-09 12:20 am (UTC)He shouldn't be forgiven. There are some lines you just shouldn't cross and he was so far over them he couldn't even see them anymore.
But Mike doesn't know, so his secrets remain.
He slips off his shoes and into their bed and stays quiet. His secrets, his apologies, will last for another day.
Re: Fill: What He Doesn't Know... (Graceland, Mike/Paul)
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From:no subject
Date: 2014-09-08 11:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-09 01:11 am (UTC)He heard laughter. The Joker.
He was drawn back to the gun. Holding it properly made it feel heavier.
The laughter returned.
“What have you done Bruce?” the Joker asked.
The damnable face was before him with its blood red smile. Why wouldn't he stop laughing?
“Drop the gun,” the Joker said.
No, not the Joker.
Dick.
“Drop the gun.”
Bruce did. The Joker laughed.
Dick grabbed him. Only then did he truly see the Joker. The bloody smile. The bullet wound in his forehead.
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Date: 2014-09-08 11:15 pm (UTC)Fill: No Trespassing (King Arthur 2004; Arthur/Lancelot)
Date: 2014-09-09 12:47 am (UTC)He watches the stars as the other man, the Roman man, murmurs his name as he palms Lancelot's arousal through his leathers. It's bitter tonight, chilly and dank. Lancelot's dark eyes narrow as Arthur's strong hands grasp his biceps and they narrow even further when Arthur's mouth is suddenly near his.
That, he won't let the other man do.
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From:BtVS (AU: The Unchosen One). Buffy/Angel.
From:no subject
Date: 2014-09-08 11:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-08 11:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-08 11:19 pm (UTC)FILL: 100 words from the vortex
Date: 2014-09-09 03:56 pm (UTC)He fell ever deeper, screaming, twisting and turning. Nothing to hold on to, nothing to light the pitch black pit around him.
There would be nothing to break his fall, he knew, should he ever hit the ground.
Where was his power, where was his might?
Here, there was only desolation, desperation and cold, cold night.
For a brief moment, he thought a ray of light had found its way to him, but it had been a mere illusion, like everything else in here.
So Loki kept falling through the everlasting night of his mind.
Re: FILL: 100 words from the vortex
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From:no subject
Date: 2014-09-08 11:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-08 11:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-09 01:46 am (UTC)in her postscript (Elementary, gen)
Moriarty sends Joan sketches from prison. They arrive every Tuesday to the brownstone address -- she doesn't know that Joan moved out, or she's pretending not to know.
At first Sherlock snatches them from her hands, determined to decode the messages in the ink and paper. He analyzes and tears, eventually burns and scatters the pieces. No message ever materializes.
When Moriarty arrives on his step, six months later, she slams Sherlock's head into the hardwood and laughs when he asks.
"I like to draw," she says, "and I like to keep you busy."
Her heel digs into his neck.
*
art is the struggle to understand (Elementary, Moriarty/Joan)
Joan's eyes follow Moriarty around the room. There is little else to look at in the dismal warehouse. Jamie is quite good at waiting, but that does not mean she enjoys it. The painting helps to swallow up the burning chunks of time.
She knows every inch of Joan's face now, from her high hairline to her sculpted cheekbones. She would feel better if she could get the eyes quite right.
It will be better when Joan smiles back, anyway, that careful pressed lip look of fear and excitement. That's what Jamie really wants: that acknowledgment.
She will have it.
(no subject)
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Date: 2014-09-08 11:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-09 03:11 am (UTC)Mycroft made a non-committal sound as he untied John's hands.
"Of course, now everybody thinks I was some kind of pet until you-"
"Rubbish," Mycroft muttered scornfully.
"I know!"
"Sherlock killed seven gold fish before Mother gave up," Mycroft continued. "He was much more careful with you."
Just for that, John decided, he'd let Sherlock have his brother's latest security password.
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Date: 2014-09-09 12:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-09 12:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-09 12:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-09 12:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-09 12:37 am (UTC)Fill: Le Chevalier Ou L'amant (The Musketeers 2014, Aramis/Queen Anne)
Date: 2014-09-09 01:04 am (UTC)Aramis knows Porthos is right, but … she is a woman, a warm, human woman that knows fear and love and now, she knows the touch of a base, classless man known only for his love of God and of the musket.
Aramis also loves his friends and life in Treville's garrison. But the arrival of d’Artagnan had shaken them all, and d’Artagnan had made him realize there was more to life than the sword and drink.
There could be love too.
The queen!
He groans and pours himself another drink.
Re: Fill: Le Chevalier Ou L'amant (The Musketeers 2014, Aramis/Queen Anne)
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From:Fill, Touch, -Push, Nick/Cassie
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From:no subject
Date: 2014-09-09 01:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-09 01:15 am (UTC)