Monday - Tales

[monica-catch22.livejournal.com]

For today the theme is Tales. Now, these can be your traditional Disney/Brothers Grimm/Hans Christian Anderson fare, or you can even delve into other cultures such as Chinese or even American Tall Tales. 

Please remember not to leave more than five prompts in a row and no more than three per fandom per prompter. You are, of course allowed to come back later and add more once yours have been answered.

Spoilers are *not* allowed in prompts for at least one week after air or publication date. If the fic contains spoilers please mark it clearly and leave at least three spaces before it starts.

Don't forget to format your prompts correctly, for example:

Leverage, Eliot/Nate, Pecos Bill

Psych/Numb3rs, Shawn/Charlie, Sleeping Beauty


If you can't find the perfect prompt for you here, don't forget to check out the Lonely Prompts! There are loads of wonderful prompts just begging to be written!

[theme tag=Tales]

Comments

[monica-catch22.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Eliot/Nate, Pecos Bill

[scout-lover.livejournal.com]

(Um, okay, this kinda got away from me. Musta been Eliot in chaps … So here's a teaser, with the link for the whole thing below.)


Nate watched with a deepening anxiety as Eliot got ready for his part in their latest charade. And Eliot’s part, naturally, would be the most dangerous one.

Of course, it should never have come to this. How high-tech could a rodeo be, anyway? Hardison should’ve been able to crack it in his sleep, and they should be on their way out now, with the charming and God-fearin’ “Cowboy Jack” Hawkins utterly ruined and revealed as a ruthless bastard who drained “his” cowboys of every last penny, got them indebted to him and hooked on the steroids and pain meds they needed to keep working, then tossed them aside – strung-out, broken and broke – when they were no longer of any use to him. Piece of cake.

Except he’d proven to have a computer security system the CIA would envy and that was giving Hardison fits. And a hard-on.

And Eliot, goddamn his stubborn, stoic, crazy ass, was getting ready to climb atop a bronc about whom the other riders spoke in awed and frightened whispers. Cyclone. The horse the other cowboys, the real cowboys, swore couldn’t be ridden. The beast had killed one man and crippled three others, including their client’s brother. And Eliot had drawn him. Though Nate strongly suspected the draw had been fixed, by no less than Cowboy Jack himself. Clearly, Jack had been far less taken with Eliot’s blue eyes, teasing smile and honeyed drawl than Jack’s wife had been.

Goddamned hitter really needed to tamp down on that flirting reflex. And Nate intended to tell him so. Right after Eliot got out of whatever hospital he was headed for next.

Now, however, he could only watch as Eliot got ready. The hitter was surrounded by other cowboys giving advice, but for all the notice he gave of them he could’ve been alone. He’d put his hair up and tied one of his countless bandanas around his head, then topped that with a battered straw cowboy hat whose crown was surrounded by a band studded with turquoise. It wasn’t a recent purchase, had clearly seen much use; one more surprise Eliot had pulled out of his past.


The rest is here: http://scout-lover.livejournal.com/14616.html#cutid1

[monica-catch22.livejournal.com]

Eureka, Nathan Stark/Jack Carter, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs

crack

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Nathan knew things would go south once he left.

He just didn't know it would be this bad.

He looked at Jack lying there unconscious in the stasis chamber, his needs being tended to by Fargo and six Fargo clones. Nathan could see that Jack didn't have much longer before there would be permanent damage.

He spent all night working with Henry and Allison to find a solution. He promised Zoe that they would find one, and Nathan intended to keep that promise. Finally, they created an antidote that would normalize Jack's physiology. But it would have to be grown in a living organic body before delivery. And this rather risky process would have to be done in a human body.

While Henry and Allison debated it, and while Fargos 3 through 6 were trying to look inconspicuous, Nathan injected himself.

Allison said, "I thought egomaniacs were supposed to have a strong sense of self-preservation."

"Some egomaniacs also have martyr complexes,"Henry said wryly. But they let the topic go then, since they both knew why Nathan had done it.

An hour later, it was ready for delivery. They did it the most efficient way possible, mouth to mouth contact for 90 seconds.

Nathan could feel the strength and breath and heat return to Jack, slowly but surely, as he gently moved his lips on Jack's, as his tongue slid betwee Jack's lips. He felt Jack become Jack again, returning to Nathan from the edge of being lost forever. And finally, he felt Jack return the motion of his lip and tongue, and then moan, and then raise his hand up to caress Nathan's beard.

"Jack's awake!" Fargo 2 shouted.

Jack sat up, embarrassed by the audience. "Welcome back," Nathan said softly, though perhaps a bit smugly.

"You too," Jack answered him, and then turned to the others. "So... thanks for saving my life guys. That is definitely the last time I go apple-picking in this town."

[monica-catch22.livejournal.com]

RPS, Jensen/Jeff, Little Red Riding Hood

With blatant appropriation of Angela Carter

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Jeff had a wolfish smile, everyone knew.

And his voice was a low growl.

And my, what big eyes he had. And big hands.

And what voracious appetites.

It was well-known that Jeff like to literally charm the pants off of younger actors. Innocent things, trying to make their way through the perils of the business. Finding Jeff there, so kind, so pleasant, so civilized, but with the undeniable appeal of the wild just below the surface.

And Jensen was known for being shy. For being the straight arrow. For being sweet and nice and humble, for being taken aback and confused when people act attracted to him.

And Jensen knew he had this reputation. He knew that everyone thought of him as the sweet scared kid on his way to gramma's.

But sometimes Jensen wondered if Red didn't know more than she let on. Maybe she didn't care all that much about gramma, because she knew damn well that it would end with the wolf getting split open.

Maybe Red was actually the hunter all along.

Jeff interrupted Jensen's thoughts as he 'happened' to wander near him. He ever-so-casually asked Jen if he wanted to join some friends that night, maybe go to a bar. Nothing special planned.

Jensen said yes. He gave the most innocent smile he could. He hid the eager chill he felt as Jeff walked away none the wiser.

Jen could read Jeff like a book. And Jeff clearly was getting ready to pounce, to lure Jensen into a new and dangerous world, to make Jensen his newest trophy.

Jeff had no idea what he was walking into.

[sivanshemesh.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Hardison/Eliot, The Boy Who Cried Wolf

[danse-amore.livejournal.com]

Eliot inched down the dark hallway, his shoes making very little noise on the linoleum floor. He kept his back to the wall, his ears peeled for any sort of sound.

"Eliot?" He nearly jumped when Hardison's voice sounded in his ear, a little panicked. "Eliot, I think there's someone coming, I keep hearing noises but these fucking scanners - "

Eliot froze, palms flat against the wall, poised to run back to his friend's aid.

"Hardison, hey. Settle down. Are there people there or not?"

A short pause, and Eliot turned back. Fuck it, he hadn't made it far anyway, the storage room where Hardison waited was only -

"No. No, there's no one here, it's okay." Eliot relaxed and kept moving slowly down the corridor. "You know," Hardison said conversationally, "If I'd gone in here earlier and planted better bugs maybe I could actually tell - "

Eliot shook his head minutely. "No fuckin' way was I having you any closer to this bastard than where you are right now." He muttered. "Hell, I'm not too comfortable with even that."

"Neither am I." The panicked note was back, and Eliot froze again. "Wait, what was - no, no, it's okay. It's alright."

Eliot growled. "Hardison, seriously, if you don't stop jumping at shadows - "

"I'm sorry! This place, it just...fucks up my head, you know?"

Eliot slid his foot along the floor, put pressure against it, lifted his back foot. "Yeah." He murmured. "I know."

There was silence for a while, and Eliot made it to the door. He grasped the handle, and started inching it down, slow, silent. Hardison's voice shocked through the silence. "Eliot! Eliot! Oh, fuck, just...just shadows moving. Sorry."

Eliot gritted his teeth so hard his jaw hurt. "See if we ever bring you out on location again, you pussy." He snapped, very quietly.

He had the door open and was about to step through when he realized it. "Wait - shadows moving? There shouldn't be anything to cast them - Hardison? Hardison!"

There was a gasp in his ear, and the unmistakable sound of a whimper of pain, muffled against flesh.

Eliot was up and running, his feet hitting the floorboards, every vibration detector in the place going off, the cacophony of alarms a counterpoint to his racing heart. He kicked in the door, breathing hard around the hard lump of fear. A man in a suit had a hand over Hardison's mouth, his face twisted with disdain. His other hand slid under Hardison'shirt at the waist.

There was a second man, who had a gun on Hardison, and a third, pawing through his computer equipment. But all Eliot needed was the blood on Hardison's head, and the little breathy noises he was making, louder than anything in the room.

His fist connecting with the second guy's face, his knee with his crotch, he pulled, emptied, and dropped his gun in one fluid motion. The third guy had time to look up at Eliot before he was picked up and flung into the opposite wall.

The third guy had his gun out fast. He'd almost raised it before Eliot broke his nose.

The bruiser caught Hardison before he fell. His eyelids were fluttering, his mouth moving, and Eliot laid him down soft, a hand on the back of his head. "Hey. Hey. Hardison. Alec. Fuck, you can't - Alec, hey!"

He tried to catch the roving eyes behind Hardison's long lashes. Finally Hardison blinked and focused on his face. Eliot laughed aloud in relief, wiping a thumb across Hardison's face where the blood from his head had fallen. Hardison frowned at him. "Eliot?" He said. "Why are you laughin' at me?"

Eliot pulled him close, cradling him like a broken hand, like a lover, like something precious and painful. "Thought I'd...thought a lot of things in the last five seconds. Thought a lot of terrible things." He looked down at Hardison, who looked back with confused, dark eyes. "Don't you ever." Eliot whispered fiercely. "Don't you ever dare."

[sivanshemesh.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Nate/Eliot, The Ugly Duckling.

[leavesoflorien.livejournal.com]

Arthurian lit, Lancelot/Gawain, set during Culhwch ac Olwen, or, you know, Sleeping Beauty

[tresa-cho.livejournal.com]

rofl! Lancelot hadn't even been invented yet at this stage of Arthurian lit! I took liberties lol. Lots of liberties.

Lancelot leaned on the pitchfork as a horse came trotting down the beaten path. The figure in the saddle was leaning forward, head bobbing with the horse's motion. It was a knight, a flag flying behind him. The horse stopped suddenly, and the figure in the saddle slid off, falling to the ground where he lay motionless.

Lancelot dropped the tool and ran for the horse. It skittered as he drew near, but didn't bolt. He grabbed the reins and held on tight as he knelt down. The horse nuzzled Lancelot's neck as he gently pulled the knight's helmet off.

The helmet revealed a shock of dirty blonde hair against a flushed, clean-shaved face. His eyes were closed. Lancelot quickly worked at snapping off the rest of the knight's armor. His cheeks were flush and hot to the touch, and when Lancelot drew his chestplate back, he saw a gaping wound drawn across the man's chest.

He tossed away the chestplate and the knight awoke with a great gasp. A hand shot out and Lancelot gripped it firmly. "You are safe, sir knight," Lancelot said quietly. Wild blue eyes caught his, and the knight's expression of panic turned quickly to pain. "Can you stand?"

The knight struggled for a moment, trying to get up on his elbows, and failed, flopping back to the ground with a groan. Lancelot stood, draped the reins over the horse's neck and then bent to scoop the knight into his arms. His head rolled onto Lancelot's shoulder as he passed out again. Lancelot eyed the horse and clucked his tongue. The horse quickly fell behind him.

Lancelot ducked into his shanty and laid the knight on his sleeping cloth. It wasn't fit for a man of the court, but it was all he had at the moment.

"Gwalchmei," the knight said suddenly. Lancelot jumped, startled. "My name... is Gwalchmei..." he panted. Lancelot sat beside him.

"Do not speak, you are very weak from your wound," Lancelot said, touching the knight's shoulder. "Let me tend to you."

"I... I am sorry." The knight appeared to be in genuine distress. Lancelot drew his fingers through the knight's hair. "G-Giant..."

"There are no giants here, sir knight. Please, you are safe. Rest quietly. No harm will come to you while in my care. I swear it." The knight leaned his cheek into Lancelot's hand and closed his eyes, falling into slumber once more. Lancelot set to washing the knight's wounds and dressing them.

[leavesoflorien.livejournal.com]

HIMYM, Barney/Robin, the Beauty and the Beast

[gaffsie.livejournal.com]

SGA, John/Ronon, Sleeping Beauty

[me-ya-ri.livejournal.com]

John yawned as he stumbled into his room. He was so ready for bed. First the mission had gone bad complete with battles, then they had come back to Atlantis in the early morning, which meant spending a full day after spending a full day in the field. Meetings and paperwork, training and dealing with the normal craziness that always happened had added onto the adrenaline crash. He was exhausted. He really should have taken a nap when they got back but things kept happening and he hadn't been able to get away.

John stiffened as he heard a snore echo through his room. He was tired enough that he had to step over to the bed to figure out who it was. John smiled down at Ronon, rubbing his chin. Ronon was curled up on his side, hugging a pillow since John wasn't there. He looked much younger in his sleep. His dreads were spread over the pillow and his beard was ruffled from sleep.

"My own Sleeping Beauty," John whispered, stripping out of his clothes and then deliberately jarring the bed so that he wouldn't startle Ronon and be on the receiving end of his skills.

"Mmm?" Ronon rumbled, blinking at John blurrily as he crawled into bed. "Mmm. 'Bout time you came to bed."

"Sorry," John said, shifting the pillows as he curled up in Ronon's arms. "Go back to sleep."

"Mmm-hmm," Ronon sighed, wrapping his arms around John. "Night."

"Night."

[gaffsie.livejournal.com]

SGA, John/anyone, The Brave Tin Soldier

[jennytork.livejournal.com]

The others teased him, called him Kirk.

Two minutes to impact.

They had no clue how right they were.

One minute, forty-five seconds.

It wasn't the catting about, though, that gave him that nickname in his own mind.

One minute, thirty seconds.

He didn't care enough about any one person to be willing to give his life for them like he was about to do with this nuke strapped to the Jumper -- like the Brave Tin Soldier gave his life to be with his silent dancer.

One minute, fifteen seconds.

His team was the three-person exception. And maybe Elizabeth.

One minute to impact.

'So long, Rodney'? What the hell kind of a goodbye had that been? But it had been all he could think of.

Fifty seconds.

At least he'd had time to say goodbye to one of them. Now he was off to save who he truly cared about -- who had stolen his heart beyond any retrieving.

Forty-five seconds to impact.

Kirk had his Enterprise.

Forty seconds.

John Sheppard had his Atlantis.

Thirty seconds.

"Major Sheppard, decloak your Jumper immediately."

He blinked. "What?! Who the hell is this?"

"Authentication Alpha Charlie One. Decloak now."

John did, instantly. A flare of light filled his vision and he gasped, turning around in shock to find himself on the bridge of a spaceship -- with humans looking back at him!

"Impact. We have impact, the hive ship is destroyed, captain."

"Very well. Welcome to the Daedalus, Major Sheppard. I'm Colonel Caldwell. Let's get you home."

[myaru.livejournal.com]

Fire Emblem 10, Lehran/Sanaki, Tanabata/The Princess and the Cowherd

[wendyr.livejournal.com]

Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, Harry/Perry, Cinderella

Fairy Tale, Harry/ Perry

[kohaku1977.livejournal.com]

For someone coming from a small town and having made a living illegally obtaining and reselling goods in the bowels of a city like New York, Harry proofed to be remarkable good at both organising an office and, after a few stuttering appearances, mingling at parties in glittery LA.
After Perry played fairy godmother and bought a slim black suit for Harry, he was blending in with a catlike ease, instinctively knowing what social pitfalls to avoid and mastering idle chatter even though he seemed not too fond of it. Harry could still use a haircut and he still stood out some evenings, but in a different way, not bumping into corners but cutting the crowd.
Perry wished for a different role some nights, but then again, he did take Harry home every time and always in the wee hours of the morning instead of on the final stroke of midnight. And while there was no glass slipper left on the stairs but a discarded suit jacket, Perry would still pick it up and carry it after Harry.

[wendyr.livejournal.com]

Leverage, team, The Wild Swans

[wendyr.livejournal.com]

CWRPS, Jensen/Steve, Sleeping Beauty

[wendyr.livejournal.com]

Supernatural RPS, Jeff/Misha, Young Goodman Brown

[wendyr.livejournal.com]

Leverage, author's choice; Snow, Glass, Apples

[daria234.livejournal.com]

The first time Sophie hugged Parker was in the snow, during the Twin Cities job. They were walking on a sidewalk at dusk, and Parker of course was without a hat, so snowflakes were getting caught on Parker's eyelashes. Sophie had smiled, leaned over, and kissed her once on each eyelid, melting the crystals with th warmth of her mouth. Parker had snuggled close to her then, and Sophie cherished the moment of normalcy. But then Parker said, "I like it when you kiss my eyelids shut. In some cultures that's what they do to the dead."

The first time they kissed, there was a layer of glass between them, lips on smooth clearness on lips. They were doing a tidy little art theft of the side, just to cheer Sophie up on a bad day. Parker had managed to get inside the cramped case that housed several small sculptures, including a gorgeous Degas dancer. Sophie was worried about her brushing against the sensors, but Parker assured her that she had utterly outwitted the sensors. She proved her point by kissing the inside of the top of the case, as she lay on her back inside the table-high glass box. Sophie hadn't been able to resist, and she put her own lips on the top of the case. They smiled at each other before Sophie said, "Now get out of there, it must be uncomfortable." "Not at all," Parker said, "It's like a perfect glass coffin."

The first time Parker had known she wanted Sophie was when she was trying to learn how to persuade people. The lessons themselves weren't much help but it was sure fun making big, bad Eliot run scared from an apple. Of course, Sophie had just picked up an apple and took a big, juicy bite. Parker watched her mouth move up and down, lips closed and hiding the crunching of the apple's skin and flesh between her teeth. She looked like Persephone with the pomegranates. Or Eve, right before she brought death and knowledge to the world.

Parker felt a spike of desire. And normally this would scare her, but she knew that the object of desire could be made to leave. Simply by acting like Parker.

So she asked Sophie, "Hey, aren't you worried that I poisoned that apple? Because I just bought a big thing of rat poison."

Sophie had smiled at her. Not a bemused or a pitying or a merely tolerant smile.

Sophie smiled enticingly. And she said, "I'm not scared of anything you've got to give, Parker."

Parker watched her walk away then, back and legs and hips gliding smooth as a serpent. She heard the loud snap as Sophie took another big bite of the apple. And all Parker thought about that night was the cool juice of the fruit running into Sophie's mouth.

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Nate, the Old Woman (or Man) who Lived in a Shoe

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Angel, Spike/any, Thumbelina (with Spike being shrunk to the size of a thumb please?)

Foulmouthed Fairies and Mood Hair

[chibifukurou]

Angel had heard about what Spike had done in Sunnydale. He should be proud or upset at the loss of his Childe, so the flowers that his business associates send him aren't a surprise. They are trying to get in his good graces by offering false comfort.

The flowers go on a side table in his office, no one gets insulted at his lack of attention to their gifts and then are promptly ignored. Most of his staff didn't know Spike and those that did weren't his biggest fans.

Of course things were never that simple in Angel's life. So Spike appearing in the middle of one of the mourning flowers shouldn't have been the surprise it was, even if he had been shrunk the size of Angel's thumb.

Much to Angel's chagrin Spike was know officially considered to cute to squash, even by those who would have originally dusted him. Which was how Angel found himself dealing with a foulmouthed prankster of a fairy and a head full of hair that changed colors depending on his mood.

[daria234.livejournal.com]

RPS, genie!Jeff/streetkid!Jared/princess!Jensen, Aladdin (or reverse who the genie or princess is)

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, any slash pairing, Bluebeard's castle

[danse-amore.livejournal.com]

(Hahaha. Couldn't resist. Probably not at all what you were thinking, but...this is what came out.)

Dean gripped his gun, the metal warming familiarly in his hand.

"And the walls cry warning, warning, wailing with the words of late wives, wasted lives."

He spun. The voice bled into his ears from all sides, the ancient house creaking with it without it being louder than a whisper. It was deep and amused, a chuckle from the darkness.

"Wasted." He purrs. "That's what you think, isn't it, Hunter? That those women were shining, once, that I sucked their souls and hung their heads because of hate. Because of anger."

Dean narrowed his eyes. behind the voice was another, softer, something...choking? "I don't pretend to understand monsters like you. There's nothing to understand."

That chuckle again, like bells, like velvet. "No. You never did have a good grasp of art, Dean. But I can fix that. I can show you...can't you see?"

A door at the end of the hall opened, slid on silent hinges, and there Bluebeard or Conomor or Connor Moreland stood, surrounded by a grisly scene. It would have been provocative. It would have been erotic. Twelve women sat around him, or laid by him, or languished against him, all dressed in skimpy lace, in antique bodices and beautiful petticoats. It would have been beautiful. It would have been hot.

But not a single one of them had a head.

And Dean barely noticed, barely saw them at all because at Bluebeard's feet, held down by one of his big boots on his chest, was Sammy.

He was slowly choking, as with every word Bluebeard pulled slightly downwards on a blood-red satin cord attached to his left wrist. It led up into the recesses of the ceiling and from there to a pulley and back down until it tightening, like a painted smile, on the neck of Sam Winchester.

Dean's hand tightened on his gun. If he shot Connor, he would fall, and snap Sam's neck. He took a step forward. Connor pushed a little down, and Sam gasped a little more. "You see..." he said, his voice now soft and reasonable. "You see, it was never about hate. It was never about anger." He caressed the collarbone of one of the dead women, and Dean fought not to throw up. "It was about love." And he leered down at Sam, his broad tongue slipping over his lips.

Dean shot him. He shot him once in the shoulder, and then as Connor gasped and stumbled and Sam gasped and twitched, Dean strode over to him and swung his knife through the cord and into Connor's chest. "I may not understand what you call art..." He said, as he helped his brother to his feet. "But you will never understand what I call love."

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Dark Angel, any, Sleeping Beauty

[monica-catch22.livejournal.com]

Logan's hands clench into fists as he stares at the screen with the cure, his jaw grinding hard enough for Alec's sensitive ears to pick up. He winces and repeats his offer softly:

"I can... it'll just be to-"

"I know," Logan bites out and storms out before Alec can blink, adding over his shoulder, "Just get it over with."

Alec sighs and rolls his eyes, muttering "drama queen" under his breath. But even his sarcasm can't dull the edge of the fluttering in his stomach as he stares at the bed, at the prostrate form of Max unconscious, almost inhumanly beautiful in sleep.

It's another foul trick of White's, to gas her with something that needs a chemical reaction in her body to wake her up, but it has to be pleasure.

And Logan can't touch her without dying himself.

So it leaves almost every other male in Terminal City, and Alec is probably the only one that Max won't kill for doing this, or at least can survive whatever punishment she doles out.

He finds himself walking over to her side and sits on the edge of the bed. Ready to run or stay, depending on Max.

Sighing he leans over cautiously and hovers for a moment over Max's face to examine each feature.

Alec swallows, fights back the longing in his chest, and leans down, pressing his lips chastely against hers. Nothing happens.

"C'mon, Maxie," he whispers against the soft but dry skin. "Wake up."

His tongue darts out to moisten his mouth, at least that's what he tells himself, and it brushes against her, capturing her taste, making him shudder as his cock twitches with interest.

"Fuck it," he mumbles and cups the back of her head with one hand as he delves into her mouth now, parting her lips with his tongue and exploring as he tries to bring her that sensation that will make her eyes flutter open, that...

That makes her hand clutch at the back of his shirt and a moan escape her as her body awakens. Alec parts enough to let her breathe.

"Alec..."

"Yeah?"

Her eyes blink open fast, swirling depths of chocolate and dark desire turning to confusion. "It's really you?"

His heart pounds and he gives her a cocky grin. "Who else'd kiss you like that, Maxie?"

She thumps him on the head and pulls him back down.

[monica-catch22.livejournal.com]

Merlin, girl!Merlin/Arthur, The Snow Queen

[monica-catch22.livejournal.com]

SGA, Ronon/John, Rapunzel (crack is WELCOME!)

[me-ya-ri.livejournal.com]

"Rodney, turn it off!" John snarled, glaring at Ronon as he chuckled, snickered and then started laughing so hard that he could barely stand.

"I'm working on it!" Rodney snapped, still focused on the Ancient device. "What's your… oh. Oh wow. Yes. Working on it!"

Teyla sighed, pushing her rapidly growing hair out of her face. It didn't look that bad on her, just a longer version of what she normally wore. Ronon's dreads had grown to the point they were trailing on the ground but they were still coherent dreads. John's hair though, that was trying to do something that crossed waterfalls with hedgehogs and he felt like his neck was going to break from the sudden weight attached to his head. The damned thing was that despite all the weight his hair was still trying to go every which way.

"It itches, Rodney," John snarled as his hair hit the floor. "It really itches! Can't you shut that thing off?"

"Got it!" Rodney said, crowing with delight. "Weird that it affected you guys but not me. Must be a field radius or maybe there's a safe zone around the controls…"

He trailed off muttering about energy fields, harmonics and hedgehogs under his breath. Teyla sighed and scratched her head with relief. She turned to Ronon, a tolerant smile on her lips despite the continued laughter and tears in his eyes.

"If I might borrow one of your knives, Ronon?"

"Sure, sure," Ronon gasped, retrieving one and passing it to her. Teyla sighed with relief as she sawed through the mass of hair lying on her back.

"I'm next," John growled, kicking at the mass of hair by his feet.

They all froze as Teyla's hair immediately grew back. Teyla's eyes narrowed at the double-size mass of hair at her feet. John turned to Rodney whose mouth was dropped open and working though no sound was coming out. John glared as Ronon rumbled at him, mirth gone.

"I'm on it!" Rodney said, going pale. "I'll fix it, I swear."

"You better," John growled, moving to Ronon's side. He needed some reassurance. "I'm not going to play Rapunzel for anyone."

"Who's Rapunzel?" Ronon asked, rubbing his hand along John's back and playing with the tangled mass of hair.

"I'll tell you later," John sighed, rubbing his neck.

"While I comb your hair out," Ronon said, that look in his eyes.

"That works," John said, his voice going raspy as his pants got tight. At least it was only his team that got to see him this way. For now.

[snowglow1275.livejournal.com]

SGA, John/Rodney, golden goose

[snowglow1275.livejournal.com]

SGA,John/Rodney, Rip VanWinkle

[trinityday.livejournal.com]

Harry Potter, Lily/James (& Death Eaters), “Little pig, little pig, let me come in” (Three Little Pigs)

[mimbulus.livejournal.com]

Lily had just finished changing Harry's diaper, while James washed the dishes, when they felt it. She came running down the stairs, holding Harry in her hands, to James' side.

"Little piggies, little piggies, let me come in," they heard Voldemort's high-pitched voice through the wards that up to that moment, they had felt secure in.

They looked at each other, not saying anything. They knew exactly what had happened.

They felt the wards crumbling around them.

"I love you," they said simultaneously, at the same time that Voldemort strolled through the door.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off -"

She ran back towards Harry's room and stopped in her tracks when she heard Voldemort say "AVADA KEDAVRA" as calmly as if he had cast a time-telling charm.

She knew she was about to die, she only hoped she'd be able to somehow save Harry.