Last things

[tigriswolf]

Hiya, again! This is still tigriswolf , guest host of the week.

For the final day of my run here, the theme is last things: last chance, last call, last of the species, first shall be last and last shall be first kind of deal.

However, please remember: no more than 5 prompts in a row and no more than 3 prompts per fandom. If one of your prompts is answered, you can prompt again.

Also, no spoiler prompts for a week after it has aired - and, if your ficlet contains spoilers, put a warning in bold and leave three spaces.

Please remember our code monkeys and use the correct formatting of prompts:

Leverage, team, the last con
High School Musical, any, the final bow
Leverage/White Collar, Eliot/Neal, the last time he fired a gun

If none of today's prompts strike your fancy, don't forget the plethora of Lonely Prompts.

theme=last

Comments

[tigriswolf]

Leverage, team, the last con

[tigriswolf]

High School Musical, any, the final bow

Nobody Knows [High School Musical, Gen, Ryan]

[chibifukurou]

Ryan takes a bow, it will be his last bow though nobody else known that. They are so used to him wearing outrageous hats that they hardly notice when he starts wearing wigs under his hats.

Perhaps they think its a stage or that he's trying to make a statement but they certainly don't think he has cancer and Ryan likes it like that. He's become a legend on Broadway in the last few years and he wants to go out with a bang, not pity.

He's going to go home now, meet up with old friends and old enemies and have a quite life for the few months he has left to live. IT will be a nice rest.

[tigriswolf]

Leverage/White Collar, Eliot/Neal, the last time he fired a gun

[tigriswolf]

Supernatural, Castiel, stand up and face the ending (Pat Benatar)

Stand Together

[kijikun.livejournal.com]

Castiel is on his knees.

Dean is dead.

Dean is dead.

And his blood is still wet and warm on Castiel's hands, on his shirt, on his jeans. The taste of it on his lips as he presses a kiss to Dean's forehead.

Dean is dead, and Castiel is on his knees.

Any strength to stand, to face the ending of everything had died with Dean.

A hand grips his shoulder but Castiel doesn't look. He doesn't need to.

"We'll make him pay for killing them," Gabriel promises. "Even if just by staining that tacky white suit with our blood."

Dean's body is growing cold in his arms, his soul gone - to Heaven Castiel hopes.

Castiel takes his brother's hand, and stands up to face the ending.

[tigriswolf]

Star Trek reboot, Jim/Bones, “so long, my friends; there must always be an end” (Patrick Wolf)

almost definitely more depressing than you wanted it to be? sorry

[gladdecease]

Dean plays with his fork while they wait. He's avoiding Castiel's eyes, and they both know it, but at this point what else is there to say? Nothing Dean wants to hear, he knows that much.

When the waitress comes over with the plate and a smile, Dean's returning smile is tired and half-hearted. She walks away with Castiel's untouched coffee, thinking to herself that she's glad she cut off an extra large slice. The two of them look like they need it.

Back at the table, Dean fumbles through forking up a portion of the pie for himself, and even though it's freshly baked and warm, he hardly makes a sound. It doesn't taste like ashes in his mouth or anything, but he's not particularly enthusiastic right now.

Too much on his mind.

Looking up, he finds no judgment in Castiel's eyes. Sadness - a hell of a lot of sadness - and some guilt. And understanding. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Dean pushes his plate across the table. Castiel looks down at the pie, then up at him, eyes wide and more than a little confused.

"Dean -"

"Just take it, Cas," he says, looking down. "Please."

After a moment, he hears the scrape of metal on china and closes his eyes. He listens to the sounds of the diner, of people talking about trivial things, of dishes clattering in the back, of something sizzling in the kitchen, of a waitress taking an order, of a baby crying somewhere. He listens and thinks this is why.

A hand falls on top of his own. Dean opens his eyes to stare at the hand, watch it squeeze his gently. He looks up.

Castiel is smiling at him, softly. His eyes are still sad, though there's something else there. "Thank you for the pie," he says. "It was good."

Dean pulls his hand away, immediately feeling like a dick, but not about to take it back. "Sure," he mutters. Of course it was good, he tries not to think. They know how to bake an apple pie in Detroit.

Standing with a sigh, he drops a twenty on the table and they leave. They've got a long night ahead of them.

[mariana-oconnor.livejournal.com]

Merlin, Merlin/Arthur, reincarnation!fic - This is the last time.

Comfort, 1/2

[loki-dip.livejournal.com]

It got a little long. Apparently I failed at the comment!fic. ;p


The fight for transgenic freedom was long and brutal. Once they made a public stand against their creators and the residents of TC had decided to fight for their right to live without fear there had been all out war.

Logan had taken a lot of stick because even though his identity as Eyes Only was still a secret, Logan Cale was a known ‘sympathiser’ of the transgenic cause and in some people’s eyes that was even worse than being a tranny because at least they couldn’t help it.

It meant that he had to hide out and Logan had become even more introverted and barely left the new apartment that no-one knew he lived in. Sometimes Max sent one of the transgenics to check on him, or to guard the area around his home.

One night he was lying in bed and trying to sleep he heard the sound of the door sliding open. Worried that it might be one of the anti-transgenic mobs had found out where he lived and could be ready to attack him.

In case of emergencies, Logan left the exoskeleton by the bed and he sat up, strapping it on as quickly as possible. As quietly as he could, Logan stood and made his way to the end of the room, holding up a baseball bat to protect himself.

There was a faint light coming from the kitchen. It was coming from the refrigerator and Logan spotted a familiar figure rifling through its contents and let the baseball bat drop to the floor next to him and leaned against the counter.

“Found anything you like in there?”

Alec’s head popped out from behind the refrigerator door and he smirked without a hint of guilt at being caught, closing the door and munching on a sandwich that he’d put together. “Yeah thanks. Max sent me over. Check on you for tonight.”

Flicking on the light, Logan got a good look at Alec; it had been a couple of months since Alec had last come around. At one point they’d been quite close, Alec had admitted in a whiskey filled evening that Max had lied about the two of them being together and somehow – Logan couldn’t remember exactly – they’d ended up in bed together.

The X5 had lost a lot of weight, Alec had always been lean but right now he looked almost gaunt. His clothes were stained with blood and his jeans were torn at the bottom. Alec caught him looking and shrugged. “Times are hard.”

Logan nodded, didn’t he know it. They had been fighting for months and he’d been struggling to get provisions in terminal city. An X5 could last without food and water for at least 6 days but that didn’t mean it was good for them. But it was getting harder and harder as the authorities cut off means into the transgenic base. Still, Max kept telling Logan on the phone that it was worth it, they would get their freedom or they would all die trying. There was no middle ground.

Alec was clearly getting uncomfortable at the staring so Logan decided to make himself useful, and slipped past Alec to the refrigerator and took out the bottle of milk he’d brought that morning and set about heating it to make hot chocolate.

The police had been made aware of the defect in the X5s physiology and had set about destroying and removing all bottles of tryptophan they could. It would weaken the transgenic side and increase their chances of winning. Logan was using all his contacts to pull in as much as he could, but it wasn’t much and Alec was likely running low. The milk would help that a little.

Alec leaned against the counter and watched Logan work, gratefully taking the mug and sipping at the drink. Logan watched Alec’s hands carefully and did notice a slight tremor in one as Alec clutched the mug.

They sat drinking in an awkward silence.

As usual, Alec was the one who started talking first. “Max sends her best, as usual.”

[alcetis.livejournal.com]

They stumble upon the place on a hunt.

It is a meadow with a small, bubbling brook running through it, innocent looking. But Merlin can feel the power instantly, feel it course through his veins.

"A place of the Fair Folk," Gaius would explain to him later, "laden with magic."


Arthur doesn't understand it, doesn't recognized it, and without a thought, wanders to get a drink from the stream. Merlin does not stop him, too entranced by the feeling of this... whatever this is.

Time passes, or it doesn't, with Merlin staring vacantly into the sky. But there is a cry from in front of him, and he looks forward to see Arthur, grinning, holding his arms out as if looking for a hug.


Merlin stumbles and finds himself caught in the arms of his prince, who is laughing at him. Merlin laughs too, and they both tumble onto the ground.

Their limbs are tangled. Merlin says this out loud, and Arthur is laughing again, guffawing like it's the funniest thing in the world.

They roll, so Arthur is on top of Merlin, smiling in a mischievous sort of way, and Merlin's breath catches in his chest.

He remembers why they're here, knows that some sort of magic is working on them, but still he can't stop himself from straining his head upward into the soft, sloppy kiss that Arthur presses against his lips. Soon there's teeth and tongue all mixed up in each other and Merlin doesn't care, just closes his eyes, wraps his arms around Arthur's neck and pulls him deeper.

Arthur breaks away and just looks at Merlin, as if trying to figure him out. His eyes are unfocused in an unsettling sort of way, and he seems to be having trouble understanding what exactly is going on.

Merlin feels more alive than he ever has before. He can feel everything, smell everything. The touch of skin against skin, the rub of cloth against cloth, he is vitally aware of every drop of sweat that runs down his neck, ever blade of grass that brushes against him, every particle blown in the air, taken into his lungs. He can smell the water of the stream, the minerals of the earth, the musk of the trees. And it all brings him back to Arthur, Arthur on top of him, Arthur unfocused, unknowing, unaware.

His prince, his prince, with hair so yellow in the sun, skin soft and glowing, body heavy and strong...

Arthur won't even remember it, Merlin realizes.

So Merlin does what he thinks is best, and wriggles himself out from under his prince (and oh gods, does that friction feel good) to stand up and take him by his hand.

Merlin can feel ever wrinkle in the finger, every joint, every callus as he leads the future King, drunk off of magic and smiling like an idiot, out of the valley and into the woods.

But the spell lingers, Merlin realizes, as Arthur pushes him into a tree and carefully, almost curiously presses his lips to Merlin's neck.

Merlin closes his eyes as Arthur's fingers dig into his hips and his mouth presses small kisses up from his neck to his ear, moaning with the sensation.

Soon enough his prince will return to being just that, entirely oblivious to whatever this is. Maybe it isn't so sinful to enjoy these last couple of minutes.

Arthur's hips move against his and he groans, eyelids fluttering in pleasure.

Oh gods, yes, as if he could resist.


(I'm not sure if that made any sense, I had problems trying to get some of it to fit together... Haha.)

[tigriswolf]

Supernatural, author’s choice, the last line is crossed

Castiel/Raphael, NC-17

[zekkass.livejournal.com]

"You shouldn't have left me there, Castiel."

Raphael is close, too close, and Castiel can't even begin to think of self-defense, or running, because he is barely an angel and Raphael is crackling with power beneath his human skin.

"You shouldn't have called me your bitch, Castiel."

His hands are holding onto Castiel's lapels. His mouth is inches from Castiel's mouth. Castiel can't stop looking into Raphael's eyes, and he can't stop wondering when Raphael will end him.

"You crossed a line when you dared to insult an archangel, Castiel."

Raphael's eyes have fire in them, a raging flame that will consume Castiel if Raphael lets it go. Castiel is human enough to lick his lips in nervousness, and human enough to sweat in fear, and human enough to be aroused at the intensity and closeness.

Raphael almost says something more, but he stops, examining Castiel, and seeing how human Castiel is.

Castiel doesn't like his smile. His teeth are too white to be real. There is something predatory in that smile, something broken.

Raphael slams a fist into his stomach and Castiel folds, in too much pain to stand. Raphael lets him fall, then kicks him once before bending over to drag Castiel up by the lapels again.

Castiel thinks that this must be what getting hit by a vehicle is like.

Raphael, meanwhile, is discovering that Castiel is human enough to still be aroused, and his grin is crazed.

Castiel doesn't need to ask Raphael what he would do in a Godless world, as he has his answer here: Raphael will hurt his brothers, Raphael will not bring them back from humanity, Raphael will tear open human pants and make Castiel take another small step towards becoming completely human.

Castiel can't stop moaning or whimpering or crying out in pained pleasure as Raphael discovers how to touch his arousal, and how to touch it in ways that make him whine and push into Raphael's hand for more.

Raphael looks disgusted when Castiel discovers what an orgasm feels like. Raphael wipes his hand on Castiel's coat and lets go of him. Castiel hits the floor, legs weak and wobbly.

"This is enough, Castiel." Raphael says. "For now."

And he is gone, and Castiel can do no more than struggle to sit up, breathing fast and wondering how he can feel that pleasure again.

[tigriswolf]

Supernatural, Dean/Sam, “when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name” (Sullivan Ballou letter)

pg13

[restlessme.livejournal.com]

Hope it's not to different from what you wanted.
----

It's just a little ironic that he dies at the hands of someone he was destined to kill.

Pain swells like drops of blood upon his lips, pale pale lips that crack and dry. Limbs grow cold and this death is the most painful of all the one's he's experienced before.

Hellhounds tearing at his skin, organs bursting in bloody explosions. Chains digging through his skin and dragging him under.

Shoe kicks at his face, head snaps to the side and he's breathing in black dirt.

"You're not all that special, just little vermin," he whispers in a voice so painful to hear.
The sun lights behind him, blinding Dean to the man standing before him (he knows though).

"Sammy," he murmurs, a gasp of soil clogged air that thickens the blood rushing from his mouth.

[tigriswolf]

Star Trek reboot, Spock Prime, "oh my friends, my friends, forgive me that I live and you are gone" (Les Miserables)

Ghosts

[mokusan.livejournal.com]

He can remember when they died, each human funeral more painful than the last, until they have all gone and he is left alone in this galaxy, here in this empty, endless expanse of planets and stars. He is no stranger to loneliness but it hits him stronger now than ever before, more than he can mask beneath his Vulcan exterior. It hurts more than he has anticipated upon seeing them all together again. The pain grows as he watches them; it is like watching ghosts, distorted holovids of a past he can never have again, of a future that may never be theirs. They are not truly his and he knows this, but they are so similar, so strikingly familiar that he bites his tongue at the urge to acknowledge Uhura, at the habitual, if not fond, retort that springs to his lips the moment McCoy opens his mouth.

He does not notice the presence of his younger self until there is a shift of movement beside him.

“Yes?”

“You seem…” Young Spock does not finish, for although he is speaking to himself, they are not the same person; it would be rude to accuse him of any display of emotion and he is unsure of where they stand. Spock Prime sighs and continues to watch those who, if all goes well, will someday be his alternate self’s dearest companions.

“Hold them close, Spock,” he says quietly; if it were not for his Vulcan ears, his younger self would not have heard him. “Someday you will have to let them go and you will wish you could have held on a little longer.”

His younger self frowns and considers the advice, while he watches his ghosts with ancient eyes, moving in fluid reds and golds and blues. Establishing New Vulcan was the best choice, he decides, for these spirits cannot follow him there – they will live their own lives, and his memory will be all that’s left to haunt him.

[mariana-oconnor.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Dean, Sam & Castiel, Famous last words

(no wincest please)

[alieneyes.livejournal.com]

Here you go. Hope you enjoy.

---
Chuck wrote the last words of the Winchesters as something like, “Together we fight,” or “Might as well go out swinging!” When in reality it was more along the lines of:

“Oh, Crap.”

“Told you, stupidest idea ever. EVER.”

“I couldn’t I have at least died with a double bacon chili-cheese burger in my mouth?”

But Chuck figured his words were more dramatic.

[modestroad.livejournal.com]

DCU, Barbara Gordon, Batclan, Dinah, the last surgery

[modestroad.livejournal.com]

DCU, Jason/Tim, Tim writes his last letter to Jay

[modestroad.livejournal.com]

DCU, Barbara, Damian, "Last time little D; next time Grayson will have to come here himself!"

[modestroad.livejournal.com]

Fallen Angel/SPN, Liandra/Castiel, the last angel standing

[modestroad.livejournal.com]

X-Men, Jean/Scott, the last night as a couple

X-men, Jean/Scott, It is always hard to say goodbye

[pinikir.livejournal.com]

Sorry I am a little bit rusty on writing Scott/Jean

*****

Jean knew that she had already lost him. When Scott wrapped his arms around her and drew her in for a kiss she barely felt his arms. The romance of a walk under the stars was lost upon her now but she would give him this last night.

She barely remembered that she was Jean, she was the Phoenix now, strong and free without human attachments. Only a small human part of her wept for the loss of Scott.

"Jean?"

She looked up, he was looking down at her puzzled. While she couldn't see his eyes, he had an amazingly expressive face. All his emotions were there for anyone to read if they bothered to look past the stoicism.

"Is something wrong?" he asked pausing in their walk to tilt her face up to his.

"No, love," she answered, "I'm just a little tired."

Scott nodded his head and said nothing but led her back to their room. He didn't know what else to do, all he wanted to do was to see her smile again.

[devils-almond.livejournal.com]

Numb3rs, Charlie, the last day of Princeton and he doesn't know what to do next

[devils-almond.livejournal.com]

Numb3rs, author's choice, the last days of Margaret Eppes' life

[devils-almond.livejournal.com]

Numb3rs, the team and Eppes family, the last time they ever agree to a drinking game with an Eppes

[darthbatgirl.livejournal.com]

DCU, Lex/Tim, the last word

[me-ya-ri.livejournal.com]

A/N: *squirms* I'm making myself all uncomfortable writing these guys. Hope you like this one--Lex really has Tim twisted around himself. *protects Tim*



"But…"

"None of that," Lex said, holding up his hand against Tim's half-voiced protest. "You must remember that I do know what your body is capable of, Little Bird. You've enjoyed our activities a great deal over the last several weeks but you're rather impaired right now. Don't try and deny it. I've seen how your performance has declined and Mercy commented that you need a break."

"Oh," Tim swallowed and nodded, settling down on the cushion next to Lex.

He was much more sore than normal but then he normally didn't have sex like this and patrol and train with someone like Mercy. At best he would have done two of the three, though it would be better if it was just one. He hadn't looked at his back while bathing lately but he knew that he was a mess. Fortunately he didn't have PE at school or it would have been noticed quite a while ago.

Lex petted his hair, offering a bite of food. Tim's stomach twisted but he took it. Lex no longer let him eat anything unless it came from him. He'd gone so far as to put a lock on the kitchen so that Tim couldn't get in without Lex's approval. It hadn't gotten easier to let Lex feed him. It had gotten harder. Tim always wondered what was wrong with him that he couldn't enjoy something that his Master loved so much.

"Good boy," Lex said, caressing Tim's bottom lip with his thumb.

Tim tried not to shudder away from the touch. Lex chuckled. He seemed to think that the shudders were positive. Tim let him think it. It wasn't as though Tim had a choice about them. It was easier to let Lex have the last word, to think that he was right. He got so upset when anyone disagreed with him. Tim hated it so he was careful not to contradict Lex.

Once dinner was done Lex led Tim into their bedroom, using the softest restraints to tie Tim up. Tim shuddered and struggled involuntarily, his thoughts flying at being restrained. He wanted to patrol. He wanted to go to Gotham. Things had been really bad last night and he knew that Batman was having a hard time dealing with things there lately. He wanted to be there as much as he could for Batman but Lex was right. He was always right about these things. His body wasn't strong enough. He wouldn't be able to help Batman in the fight. It was better that he stayed here and played with Lex. He wouldn't want to get in Batman's way.

Lex petted his hip, his fingers gliding over a large bruise there. Tim shuddered and relaxed. Just the touch against the bruise reminded him of why he was there, of what they shared. A tiny part in the back of his mind was still uncomfortable with being so forward, with allowing himself to enjoy these things but it was fading rapidly under Lex's care. There weren't many things left that bothered him other than the feeding.

"Beautiful Bird," Lex whispered as he nuzzled Tim's ear. "So very beautiful as you submit to me."

Tim moaned, his voice cut off as Lex kissed him, silencing him under a passionate kiss while his hand stroked Tim to completion. Tim let go. This was where he belonged. Lex was right. He should stay here and make his Master happy. Batman had Dick and Jason and Clark to help him. It would be all right. Lex needed Tim right here in his bed.

"Shhh, no tears, Little Bird. I've got you."

[darthbatgirl.livejournal.com]

DCU, Roy/Tim, the last dance

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Numb3rs, any, the last step in a proof

[daria234.livejournal.com]

NCIS, any pairing, the last day on the job