Friday: Free For All
Nov. 6th, 2009 01:29 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
havenward.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
comment_ficAnd here we are, the weekend once more! Which brings us round to one of our favorite days, of course - the Free For All. Which means all fandoms, pairings, and prompts are good to go.
But please remember to follow the rules:
No spoilers in prompts until at least one week after publication or air date. If your story contains spoilers, you must warn in bold and leave at least 3 spaces before the story starts.
No more than 5 prompts in a row, 3 prompts per fandom. When one of your prompts has been answered, you can prompt again.
Please remember to thank the people who answer your prompt.
And please, for the love of our code monkeys, remember to format your prompts properly. For example:
Nothing here catching your fancy? You can stroll on over and check out our lonely prompts.
Also, just as a couple of reminders:
Don't forget to pimp us out for your favorite fandoms! Check here for banners, or submit more.
Interested in supporting the comm? We can accept donations for our Lonely Prompt Challenges at commentficmods@gmail.com .
Happy writing!
But please remember to follow the rules:
No spoilers in prompts until at least one week after publication or air date. If your story contains spoilers, you must warn in bold and leave at least 3 spaces before the story starts.
No more than 5 prompts in a row, 3 prompts per fandom. When one of your prompts has been answered, you can prompt again.
Please remember to thank the people who answer your prompt.
And please, for the love of our code monkeys, remember to format your prompts properly. For example:
Zombieland, Tallahassee/Columbus, "if y'ain't more careful, I'll show you what 55% power's like"
White Collar/Leverage, Neal/Peter/Nate, things just got complicated
Nothing here catching your fancy? You can stroll on over and check out our lonely prompts.
Also, just as a couple of reminders:
Don't forget to pimp us out for your favorite fandoms! Check here for banners, or submit more.
Interested in supporting the comm? We can accept donations for our Lonely Prompt Challenges at commentficmods@gmail.com .
Happy writing!
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no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 08:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 08:36 am (UTC)That's not what I...!
Date: 2009-11-06 04:32 pm (UTC)Except, this time, Warren found himself not wanting to go to Scott. It was embarrassing. He was a grown man, he’d been through this already. He knew how everything worked and how his body responded. He shouldn’t be having this problem. It’d go away if he ignored it, most things did. Or a nice shower, but that tended to be messy. But Warren figured that if he just let it go it’d go away.
Too bad Scott noticed it.
“Warren, hey Warren!” Angel turned, wincing as Scott caught up with him. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah I’m good.”
“What’s up with the wing?” Warren tossed a glare over his shoulder at the huge white wing that shifted slightly, as though shrugging at its owner.
“It’s fine.”
“You sure? You’re holding it kind of funny.”
Damn.
“It’s fine Scott, I just need a shower. The warm water’ll do it fine.”
“That gets kind of messy, doesn’t it?” Feather powder clogging the drain, three days to dry out, half of his back being heavier than the other half, or having to carry around two heavy wet wings for so long… yes, yes it could get messy. Warren tended to put his wings in a trash bag when he showered, like a hair cap. He would clean them in other methods.
“Yes, yes it does.”
“Pulled a muscle, right? Here, let me help you with it.”
“No, Scott, really. It’ll be fine.”
“Oh come on. You have a whole limb that’s freaking out on you. For most people they’re on the ground screaming in pain.”
“I did that already, I’m going to my room.”
“Come on, it’ll help, I swear.”
And that’s how Warren found himself sitting on the floor, Scott on the couch behind him, wing out, getting a massage. He had to admit, it felt really really good. Until Scott started to chuckle to himself.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing.”
“Scott, I told you, now you tell me.”
“Alright alright. You know how wings are bird’s arms and hands pretty much, right?”
“Right.”
“I’m basically giving you a hand job.”
Warren was out the door and in his room so fast there were still feathers in Scott’s hands.
Re: That's not what I...!
From:no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 08:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 08:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 08:49 am (UTC)On Doubt
Date: 2009-11-06 10:20 pm (UTC)This is set between s4 and s5.
Ramiel is 'Thunder of God' (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Remiel) and Zerachiel is 'Angel of Healing' (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zerachiel)
....................................
4.5 billion years.
Four and a half billion years since the creation of the world, hundreds of millennia more since your own creation, and not one moment of doubt.
Not a single one.
Not when Lucifer led a rebellion, not when Anael fell, not even when Uriel betrayed you. They were the doubters, your faith was strong. As strong on the day you were commanded to lift Dean Winchester out of the pit as the day you were created.
But how quickly then your faith started shattering. Your faith in your Brothers, in what was right. Faith that you were doing God’s work, even though you always maintained your faith in Him.
One little person, so young in comparison to so many things. One wholly unique man has broken open your mind, with his words and with his actions, and sowed the seeds. Dean Winchester dared you to question it all and you found yourself doing so.
It worries you. It liberates you.
It terrifies you.
Welcome to existence, Angel. Welcome to the world. It has changed since you last stepped here.
And so you came to this.
To standing in a kitchen, facing the entire Host with nothing and no-one to aid you but a seer. A man who wrote the Coming of the Apocalypse, but not the freedom of an Angel’s will, and so you have one more moment of hope, before Ramiel tears your wings, Zerachiel lifts Jimmy’s battered soul free, and Raphael burns away your grace.
There is a long moment when the shell that contains what is left of you dangles from the hands of the Archangels, and then you are consumed by light.
It burns.
You scream.
The Host tremble.
...But you live.
Your Father has saved you, so that you might save the world.
Start, Castiel, with the one who made you doubt.
Re: On Doubt
From:Re: On Doubt
From:Re: On Doubt
From:Re: On Doubt
From:Re: On Doubt
From:Re: On Doubt
From:Re: On Doubt
From:no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 08:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 09:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 09:28 am (UTC)Righting the wrong.
Date: 2009-11-06 04:06 pm (UTC)Angel was dying. Silly concept really, a vampire dying. Well, couldn’t be helped. Vampire, demon, human, didn’t matter what you were. When you don’t eat for an extended period of time, your body starts to die. And Angel had decided that he was going to give up blood. Not his pact of no more human blood, he decided that he wasn’t going to have ANY blood. At all. Any kind. So the pig’s blood had been cleaned from the ice box, and Angel locked himself in his room.
Cordelia had been pestering Wesley all day to find out what’s up with him. Despite having Doyle’s powers, she seemed to forget that not everyone had visions into the future… like to what was going on in Angel’s head. Sometimes, Wesley wished he had known this Doyle; see if any of him had rubbed off on Cordelia. From what he had seen… not so much so. To appease the begging drama queen Wesley closed his book, stood and glared over his glasses at her.
“If I go in there, and drag him out, will you leave me alone?” He’d been doing all the work since Angel locked himself away. Nothing new, really, but it was giving him quite the headache. And Cordelia was far from helping. Without letting her speak he stormed up the steps and down the hall to his “boss.” Rude, uncaring, self-centered… grumbling every step of the way Wesley stopped before the heavy door and banged.
It creaked open. Honestly, Wesley wasn’t sure as to what he should expect or not expect, but the door just opening for him was something he was sure he wasn’t supposed to expect. This was a moody vampire. He didn’t just open doors because people wanted in. Peering inside it was clear that Angel was far from caring about appearances. He was dying. Calmly, the man stepped in, closed the door behind him, and locked it.
“I didn’t invite you in.”
“I’m not a vampire, and yes you did. You opened the door, it’s an invitation.”
“I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m stuck outside your room.”
“The way you’re going there won’t be a next time.”
Angel looked thin, pale. Duh, he’s a vampire, they all look pale… but this seemed like he was created from chalk; a drawing a child would create on a hot summer sidewalk. Like a bit of August rain would wash him away and he’d be gone forever; only a memory to the child that had created him. Lips pursed, Wesley crossed the room in two strides, kneeling in front of the armchair Angel had perched himself in, and gave the vampire a stern look.
“You’re not my father.”
“Then why are you acting like a disobedient son?”
“This has nothing to do with you.”
“No? Then why did you let me in?”
Angel couldn’t answer. He wasn’t strong enough to banter. With a sigh Wesley removed his jacket, setting his glasses on the table and pulling off his shirt. Sitting crisscross on the floor, he exposed his neck.
“You suck me dry and I swear to God I’ll come back and kill you.”
“I can’t.”
“You have too.”
“I don’t-”
“I don’t care what you do and don’t do. You’re my room, my board, and my pay check. You die and I go back to being a… a… a rouge demon hunter and I’m sure that’ll do us all a whole lot of good.”
“Wesley-”
“This is my fault and I’m fixing it, alright? I’m offering you the chance to eat before I slit my wrist and force it down your throat myself. Now are you going to do this willingly or am I going to have to make you?”
Angel gazed at him long and hard, wheels turning, fighting with himself.
“You could have just gotten me a cup of pig’s blood.”
“You threw it out, remember? Where am I going to find a butcher this time of night?”
Stiffly removing himself from the chair Angel knelt by his employee, his friend, and cupped his head gently.
“This’ll hurt.”
“Again, you kill me and I’ll haunt you until I kill you back.”
The first puncture hurt the worst. But overall, Wesley wasn’t that bothered by the process.
Re: Righting the wrong.
From:no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 09:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 09:34 am (UTC)Tricky Thief | X-Men, Logan/Remy, When his bag of tricks is empty
Date: 2010-10-19 03:33 am (UTC)He's got plans for his lover and he's not going to let Logan ruin it. Even if that means throwing a few low-powered charged cards to slow Logan down.
He hangs a right and skids into their bedroom, heading for the bed. He hits it hard as Logan slams into him. Logan rubs against him, hard and growling. A thrill runs up Remy's spine and he moans, but this isn't what he planned.
He builds up a charge in the blanket under him and squeezes his eyes shut. When he lets the power go, the blanket sparks. A rudimentary flash bang, but from Logan's howl, an effective one.
Remy takes advantage of his lover's distraction, and rolls them over, pinning Logan beneath him.
Re: Tricky Thief | X-Men, Logan/Remy, When his bag of tricks is empty
From:no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 09:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 11:42 am (UTC)Part 1 of 2
Date: 2009-11-12 10:09 pm (UTC)"You have a need for discipline, Little Bird. Don't worry. I'll make sure you get what you need."
Lex's voice seemed far too loud in the quite of his office. Tim knew it was because of the blindfold blocking his sense of sight. Or maybe it was the cuffs holding his hands behind his back. He shifted position, tugging against the cuffs despite his promise to be good and sit still on the couch were Lex could look at him while he worked.
"Easy. Be still."
Tim whimpered around the gag in his mouth. He couldn't stop shaking. There wasn't anyone there. He knew that there wasn't anyone there. Lex had shown him the security monitors of the building. It was Sunday. Mercy was in the other room making sure no one came in. It was just Tim, Lex, Mercy and a couple of cleaning guys who wouldn't make it up here until after dark.
Despite that the thought that Lex had stripped him naked, bound him, gagged him, and blindfolded him in his office while he worked had Tim panting from mingled shame and arousal. It felt like at any second someone could come in and see him there. It felt like there were people watching him, whispering and commenting on his naked body and the marks that Lex had put there. Tim pressed his legs together to hide his rock-hard cock.
"Open your legs, Little Bird. I want to see you."
Tim groaned. He slowly spread his legs, exposing himself to Lex's eyes. The phantom eyes and voices in his head exclaimed at what a slut he was, how shameful it was. Tim's cock jumped at their imaginary commentary.
"Beautiful."
The blindfold soaked up Tim's tears. It felt like hours that he'd sat there, exposed to Lex's gaze. He thought it might be five minutes in reality. Time had always sped up for him when he was bound. This time was no different. His mind flew faster than normal and his thoughts battered against the inside of his head like birds trying to escape from a trap. It was terrifying and exciting and Tim thought that he'd explode.
Lex typed on his computer, occasionally grunting or making a little humming noise at whatever he was working on. Eventually, so slowly that Tim was barely aware of it, his thought began to slow. He'd never deliberately done this to himself before. He'd never deliberately been bound explicitly for being bound. The terror subsided abruptly, leaving behind a floating sensation that made Tim slightly lightheaded.
He sighed and relaxed back against the cushions of the couch. His legs were still trembling but his heart slowed. After a long quiet moment the shakes stopped. Tim's mind drifted in nothingness, enjoying the simple act of being on display for Lex's viewing.
"That's my Little Bird."
"Mmm!" Tim gasped as Lex slid between his legs.
Lex ran his hand up Tim's thighs, teasing his cock to full hardness. Tim stayed still. He panted around the gag, wishing that he could see the look in Lex's eyes. He loved the way Lex looked at him, like he was the most perfect thing he'd ever seen. Roy had always looked at him with love but it had never been this way, like he was something to be savored and treasured.
Lex's hand began the twisting thing that had first gotten Tim during the kidnapping. Tim responded twice as hard this time, shuddering and thrusting into Lex's hand. It felt like heaven. It felt like hell. It felt like he was going to come undone in Lex's hands and never find all his pieces again, as though he was a puppet held together by bits of string that Lex was slowly and methodically untying. As Tim reached the edge, Lex pulled away, disappearing into the darkness of beyond Tim's blindfold.
"Not yet."
Part 2 of 2
From:Re: Part 2 of 2
From:Re: Part 2 of 2
From:no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 11:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-20 06:39 pm (UTC)Tim shuddered, his breath catching in his throat. It was the wee hours of the morning. Tim didn't know exactly when since Lex's alarm clock was on the other side of the bed and he'd said that Tim didn't need one as Lex woke him up every morning. He knew it was after midnight but before 3:00 am by the look of the skyline outside. If it were before midnight there would be more headlights reflected up the building. If it were after 3:00 am then Lex would be stirring in his sleep.
Tim wasn't sure why he couldn't sleep. He should be exhausted after everything they'd done earlier. He thought that his stamina might be increasing but he was tired all the time during the day so that didn't seem likely. It was dark, the only light in the bedroom coming from the window. The darkness made him shiver. He never used to be afraid of the dark.
Tim tried to relax inside of the soft leather straps that Lex had wrapped around him. Lex's arm was wrapped around his belly. His leg was draped over Tim's hip. He was safe. Lex was there, with him all the time. Tomorrow was the last day of school before Christmas break. He'd get to spend all his time with Lex now. He'd be able to go to the office and suck Lex off under the desk. He'd be with Lex 24/7. It would be good.
His thoughts shifted from that thought like a mouse scurrying away from a cat, though Tim wasn't sure why that thought made him want to cry. He could just make out the selection of collars that Lex had laid out on the table by the window. The leather one with studs was a dark shadow. The chain glinted in the light from the window like little stars. The jeweled one was hidden inside of its purple velvet case. Lex had said that one was for special occasions when he wanted to show Tim off.
'I should be happy,' Tim thought, scolding himself for the tears that kept trying to well up. 'I should be happy. He wants to make it permanent. They're like wedding rings. I should be happy that Lex wants me that much.'
Tim didn't allow himself to sob but he couldn't stop the tears running down his cheeks. He held still, doing his best not to tense up and wake Lex. Lex didn't need to see Tim crying. He didn't like it when Tim cried, not unless it was because of something they did together. Tim turned his face into the pillow so that it would soak up his tears.
He didn't allow himself to think the name that went with the face in his mind. Lex didn't like it when he thought about Roy.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 11:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 12:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 12:01 pm (UTC)(Purists will kill me on this, but pretty please aim it at the new movie characterizations as we've seen them in the trailer?)
no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 05:46 pm (UTC)Holmes burst through the door, pacing. "Now, don't complain, but I've taken a new case."
"When do I ever complain?" Watson asked, leaning back in his armchair. "And why would I complain about this one, in particular?"
"It concerns a woman, Watson, of whom you have expressed some jealousy."
Watson raised his eyebrows. "Really."
"Yes, last time I took a case concerning this lady you practically fumed at me, and at her."
Watson pulled his hat down over his eyes and laid his cane across his knees. "I doubt it."
Holmes froze in his pacing. "What?"
"No woman could ever love you, Holmes." Watson said, not looking at him. He folded his hands over his stomach, comfortable.
"Oh." Holmes said, his hands hanging loose at his sides. He grasped for words. "I'm not sure how to take that," he said at last, staring at Watson, who was, by all appearances, taking a nap. "Certainly it has been implied by my detractors that I am nothing but a cold, unfeeling machine, but I admit that I never expected to hear such from you."
Watson sighed and tipped his hat up with a long finger so that he could look at Holmes. "No woman could ever love you," he said, "Because if they dared think of it they would find themselves severely beaten about the head and shoulders with this very cane."
Holmes grinned, open-mouthed. "Oh," he said.
Watson prodded Holmes in the stomach with the tip of his cane. "That was for suspecting me of petty jealousy." He traced his cane downward, letting it slide slowly against the length if Holmes' leg before it reached the floor. "Now. Tell me about this case."
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 12:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 12:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 12:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 12:25 pm (UTC)Supernatural, Lilith/Dean, “the dogs bayed the dirge” (Sir Gawain and the Green Knight)
no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 12:25 pm (UTC)FILL!
Date: 2015-12-25 12:07 am (UTC)His heart beats like a battle drum, and if he were to put his hand over his heart, he swears he could feel it kick violently. When the tears pour down his cheeks and all hope seems lost, his brother shelters him from the storm.
They spoon in bed, and the position is comfortable and securing, offering Sam safety from the nightmarish panic. Dean weaves his arms around Sam’s waist and hugs him to his chest, and the hand resting over his heart rubs in soothing circles as he whispers “Just breathe, Sammy. Slow, deep breaths...Shhh…”
Sam turns over and rests his head right over Dean’s heart, breathing slowly and deeply as he listens to Dean’s heartbeat. The thumping and close companionship of his brother lulls Sam into a realm of peace where he remains all night as Dean cuddles him lovingly.
♥ END ♥
Re: FILL!
From:no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 12:26 pm (UTC)Family - FRT (angst, mild incest) Sam/Lucifer, Sam/Dean
Date: 2009-11-07 03:16 pm (UTC)He wasn’t stalling for time, though he supposed he should be. A few more seconds to remain himself; a few more seconds reprieve for humanity before he and Dean brought the war in Heaven down to Earth.
It wouldn’t matter anyway. The Croatoan virus would wipe out the human race as they knew it. Living zombies. At least Lucifer and Michael would leave them whole; leave enough standing to build again.
He and Dean would burn out, leaving only the two angels to fight it out over the globe, wearing their faces. An ironic parody of the ultimate in sibling rivalry…
“Do you even know who it is you’ll be wearing?”
A few more seconds to remember their last goodbye; a beer and bad diner food, their last meal shared sitting on the hood of the Impala, no time for anything else.
“Do you even care?”
Fingers gripped his chin, harder than humanly possible, while the borrowed voice was smooth; full of the smug certainty of victory in its reach. “Sam Winchester.” The lips that pressed against his were all wrong; too thin, too cold. “Care? You are simply the suit I must throw on in order to destroy the world. Something to wear once and then throw away. Why would I care about something like that?”
The vessel Lucifer was wearing threw his head back and screamed, sending wave after wave of black smoke rolling out behind that scream to slam into him, filling his lungs, smothering him…
*Dean…*
… until Sam Winchester knew no more.
--
Straightening the new body he now wore, Lucifer smiled at his reflection, turning as the door opened and a footstep fell in the silence. Green eyes met green, his smile mirroring the frown the other wore as they always had. The same, if only in their own twisted way.
“Hello, brother.”
Lucifer and Michael. Cain and Abel. Sam and Dean. Brothers. Lovers. Friends and enemies. Adversaries down through the ages.
But always family.
End
Re: Family - FRT (angst, mild incest) Sam/Lucifer, Sam/Dean
From:Re: Family - FRT (angst, mild incest) Sam/Lucifer, Sam/Dean
From:no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 12:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 12:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-06 02:05 pm (UTC)please please please