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[be-themoon.livejournal.com]

Hello! It's me again. Everyone was fabulous yesterday - there were some pretty awesome prompts given and some good fics received.

Today's theme is, because I am an evil, evil person and intend on wasting your whole day, TVTropes. Yes, THAT TVTropes. Always wanted your favorite characters to enact your favorite trope? Have at it! The idea here being to give a fandom, character/pairing/leave it up to the author, and link to a specific trope to be included in the prompt.

Rules: No more than 5 prompts (3 per fandom). After that you may only put up prompts when someone answers one of your previous prompts. If none of the prompts today appeal to you, dig into the Lonely Prompts archive here! There are lots of beautiful prompts waiting for you to write them. The prompts format should be: Fandom, Character/Pairing, prompt.

Chronicles of Narnia, Peter/Susan, Battle Couple
Battlestar Galactica, Apollo/Starbuck, Kiss Kiss Slap
Supernatural, Dean & Sam, Arson Murder And Jaywalking

(Regarding formatting, hyperlinking code is <a href= "link here" >title here< /a> without the spaces.)

[Theme tag="TVTropes"]

Comments

[yoruichiyoshi12.livejournal.com]

*giggles* love it. *snuggles Asuma*

[lolzotp.livejournal.com]

Kurt wasn't sure what it was supposed to be, but it certainly looked like a piece of shit.

Finn was nodding excitedly, though, his big brown eyes completely begging for praise, and Kurt had no choice but to deliver it. So Kurt grinned, hugged his boyfriend around the waist and gushed out the same lies he did every other time this happened - “I love it” and “you're gifted, Finn.”

Half of Kurt's wall space was already filled with Finn's drawings. Some of them were done with sharpie that had bled all over the paper, some done with slow drying paint that had ended up dripping down his wall on more than one occasion, some just with pencil, but every picture had one thing in common - they all looked like little more than giant blobs of color. He tacked the newest drawing up next to a red and blue painting that he had originally thought was a lake but ended up being a kangaroo.

He really hated lying to Finn, but he couldn't just tell him to stop giving him his “artworks.” Mostly because it was really sweet, but partly because Finn had looked ready to cry when Kurt had asked why that lake was so red. Girls crying on his shoulder he could deal with, because they typically tried to be quiet about it and not get his sweaters too wet, but he was sure boyfriends were a completely different matter. If Kurt already knew all of Finn's dark and dirty secrets, Finn certainly wasn't going to be ashamed of letting his snot and tears soak through Kurt's new McQueen.

Besides Finn hadn't shown his... art, to anyone else. It was their little secret. Everything could have worked out perfectly if it weren't for the fact that Finn can't actually keep a secret.

Now, Kurt can't deny Finn much, so when Finn told him that he and Puck were failing, Kurt soon found himself helping two football players with a science project. All it took was a lull in conversation, all the boys bored after only an hour of work, before Finn rushed off somewhere. He came back quickly, long before the silence that grew between Puck and Kurt could get too tense. The only problem was that Finn had brought his lastest blob with him - the one that really and truly looked like shit. As soon as he saw it, Kurt was frantically shaking his head at him, mouthing “nonono,” but Finn took no notice.

Kurt was sure he would remember those next few minutes for the rest of his life, living in infamy in his memories forevermore as indisputable proof that Puck is a terrible person and Finn is kind of an idiot.

It starts off as most moments between those three did - Finn smiles his adorable smile, Kurt chokes on his water, and Puck does the worst. thing. ever.

“It looks like a piece of shit.” The whole room fell silent. Even Kurt's iPod had somehow muted itself. Finn's mouth was hanging open. Kurt was burying his face in his hands, already mourning his new cardigan. Puck just looked bored.

“But...” Finn starts, and Kurt mentally urged him to shut up, because there is no way to justify the thing in his hands, “but it's Kurt!” And, as Finn's fingers flew over the drawing, pointing out the nose and eyes and ears, and Puck asked where the penis is, Kurt wasn't quite sure which one of them he was more offended at.

Though he does know that as soon as he gets done alternating between pouting and glaring, he's changing into one of last season's sweaters and telling Finn the truth.

[zekkass.livejournal.com]

Lucifer's hands are red, and bloody, and Castiel is afraid. He is afraid, for he is human (or close enough to count) and Lucifer is standing at the edge of his hospital bed.

"Who - " He has trouble speaking, out of fear. "Who did you kill?"

Lucifer looks at his hands, which are stained red, and even with a vessel that will disintegrate, it is wrong for his hands to be so red. Castiel wants to know who he killed, for his hands to remain so red.

"You didn't feel it?" Lucifer asks, eyebrows up. "I am surprised, Castiel."

Castiel glares at him, weak and too easy to break. He does not answer.

"Beyond the Gods and their manifestations," Lucifer says, studying the blood. "Gabriel."

Castiel falls silent, his glare fading. He knows why Lucifer is here, now. There is no grand scheme to use Castiel for some exotic reasons.

After a long moment of silence, he has to ask.

"Then the blood-?"

"Is from the pagans. Baldur's, mostly." Lucifer looks at it, shrugging. "They wanted me to show my conviction with force, and I obliged. I suspect they will avoid the rest of the conflict."

Castiel closes his eyes, nodding. Pagan deities enjoy symbolism, he knows, and forcing Lucifer to draw blood from them has earned their silence in the conflict. Baldur and the other deities will return to their realms, and the Winchesters will have no allies from their courts.

"Gabriel decided to ally himself with the Winchesters." Lucifer says, and there is sorrow in his voice.

"You didn't have to kill him," Castiel says, softly.

"I had no fire ring on hand, Castiel. He's not like you."

Castiel hears the unspoken he was a threat, and could have killed me.

He closes his eyes again.

[mithrel.livejournal.com]

Oooh, awesome!

[zekkass.livejournal.com]

Thanks!

[ravenspear.livejournal.com]

*flails* Oh Lucy, you sad, lovable jerk. ;____;

[zekkass.livejournal.com]

Castiel was the only angel on Earth he could go talk to about Gabriel without having to a) kill the angel, b) trap the angel or c) worry about fifty more angels showing up after the one.

Thanks!

[ravenspear.livejournal.com]

It's hard to find sympathy when you're Satan. :(

[zekkass.livejournal.com]

Poor guy. He really regretted taking out Gabriel, too. :(

What I'm Here For: Cam/John, You Are Not Alone

[somehowunbroken]

John shows up on Cam's doorstep, trembling and exhausted-looking, and when Cam opens the door John blurts, "I owe my life to a fucking Wraith," walks in, and leans against the wall in Cam's hallway like if he moves everything will come crumbling down around him.

Cam closes and locks the door, and when he turns John hasn't moved. Cam puts a hesitant hand on his shoulder and John slumps just that much further, and then he's leaning into Cam, and Cam's supporting most of his weight as John wraps his arms around Cam's waist and clings tightly.

It's a while before Cam tries to pull back, and it's just so he can sling his arm around John's waist and walk him into the bedroom at the end of the hall. He sits John on the bed and kneels, removing boots and peeling off clothing until John's left in his boxers. Cam strips off his own clothing quickly and climbs into the bed, arranging himself behind John's body, draping an arm over John's waist.

John threads his fingers through the hand on his stomach and slowly moves it up his chest, settling it near his heart. Cam can feel the mark beneath his palm as John haltingly recounts his capture and torture and escape, and when he's done he falls silent.

Cam catalogues his emotions, packs them up, and stores them for later; now is for helping John. He presses his palm firmly over the mark on John's chest and a kiss to the back of his shoulder.

"I love you," he says simply. "And if I have to thank a Wraith for the fact that you're still alive, then so be it."

John makes a choking sound, and Cam strokes his thumb slowly over the raised line in the center of the handprint. "I know you hate it," he continues quietly. "I can't imagine being happy about it in your shoes, but it's easier to be thankful than to think about hearing second- or third-hand that you'd died at the hands of that psychopath, John."

John doesn't say anything, and Cam feels him shaking again. It's John's version of crying, of letting it out, so Cam doesn't say anything either, just continues moving his thumb over the mark on John's chest until John's finally, finally still beside him.

"I can't ever thank him," John says, quietly but with conviction. "I can't, Cam."

"I know," Cam replies softly. "That's what I'm here for."

Re: What I'm Here For: Cam/John, You Are Not Alone

[skieswideopen]

Still keeping busy, eh?

Poor John! They hardly ever deal with the aftermath of events on the show, which in some ways is too bad, though I suppose the show would quickly become deeply depressing if the characters actually spent time thinking about having killed forty people or being fed on by a Wraith. But I love the first line here, with John reacting--badly--to that particular situation, 'cause it has to have a nightmarish quality to it, even for someone who didn't grow up in the Pegasus Galaxy.

Re: What I'm Here For: Cam/John, You Are Not Alone

[somehowunbroken]

Oh keeping busy... or procrastinating on writing my apocabigbang, you know, either one :)

I agree - I wish they'd dealt a bit more with aftermath on the show. I mean, they could have devoted an entire second series to aftermath, but I'm not looking for that sort of depth. Just... something. An offhand mention of a visit to Heightmeyer or a few days off, even.

[nevcolleil.livejournal.com]

Here (http://nevcolleil.livejournal.com/270330.html#cutid3) :)

Child of the scars of fire - AU, future!fic, gen

[tigriswolf]

"Don't worry," Dr. Calson tells her, her very first day on the floor. "You'll get used to it." He gives her an encouraging grin and she tries smiling back.

She doesn't want to be here. She wants to help, she really does, but...

Please, Rebel texts her then, just as her determination is wavering. We need him.

So she takes a deep breath, steels herself, and goes to sit with Noah Gray. Sylar's son.

His father's sins are not his, Angela Petrelli told her. He's a good kid, Peter said. But Bennet summed it up best when he muttered, We need him.

Another deep breath. It's hard not to keep a wary eye out for Sylar, because no one knows where he is, not since he destroyed Costa Verde and only three people survived—Peter, Claire, and Noah. Noah hasn’t spoken since. All he does is draw broken watches and mushroom clouds, and a new special is sent to watch him every week. It’s her turn for the next seven days.

Dr. Calson says, “He is a very sweet boy. Such a shame.” She nods, looking down at Noah, at his shaggy hair and big eyes, at the crayon mushroom cloud exploding from a cracked watch-face.

sylar is scrawled along the outside of the face, and Dr. Calson is smiling.