wellownedbkup (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wellownedbkup) wrote2009-08-13 12:46 am
wellownedbkup) wrote2009-08-13 12:46 am
comment_fic roundup, lonely prompts challenge weekend
you're looking at the runner up with 19 prompts in 12 fandoms. HOLLA ATCHER GIRL.
doctor who, doctor/master, the beauty in destruction
what he doesn't tell martha and jack is that the forgiveness he offers the Master is nothing compared to what they've done together in the past. before he became the Doctor, when he was just the protege of the time lord who stared into the void and went mad. before, when gallifrey was still red sands and endless skies, there were legends of the Master and his young apprentice.
legends which made the blood of civilizations run cold and men faint out of fear.
it was said that the boy, known as Watcher, saw the beauty in his Master's destruction. entire worlds saw the two of them in the moment of their collapse. both charismatic, both gregarious, and both deadly.
the tales spread far and wide, stories of a time lord and his boy who stood aside and watched peoples burn. the Doctor thanks his lucky stars that the tales did not spread to earth, to the people he's come to have a fondness for. the man who makes people better, as the master put it, sees in them his salvation.
x-men, feral!Wolverine/Gambit, "killer" isn't the right word, but it's the first word that comes to mind.
it's times like these that gambit wonders how much logan views him as prey, and how much logan sees him as a teammate. the snarling is almost par for the course, remy's come to realize, so the line is very blurred here. on their lighter days, remy's even been able to joke about it. calls it logan's pms.
but he's felt that adamantium heavy frame against his own in more ways than one. an ill-advised joke now would mean taking his life into his hands. and while he cares for logan, he doesn't want to push him over the edge.
"c'mon, cher. these things will pass and you'll be back to jokin' with ol' remy lebeau, n'est-ce pas?" he murmurs, trying to soothe logan while edging his way back towards the door. wolverine snarls again, sharp claws extended like... well, 'killer' may not be the right word, but it's the first word gambit comes across to describe it.
he advances and remy nods. this is no time to antagonize logan. "p'raps another time, then, cher." he bolts from the room and closes the door just as claws strike through the wood near his head.
"told you to leave him be, sugar," rogue sing-songs as she passes down the corridor.
dr. horrible, hammer/horrible, evil has a nice tight ass
warning: non-con/dub con here....
consent is as dubious every time as it was the first time, pressed against a brick wall after that freeze ray stunt went south. billy doesn't know how the cops were so oblivious, not one to be found even as hammmer takes him without so much as a by-your-leave.
horrible chokes it down and plots another caper, one that's sure to add his name to the rank and file of the evil league of evil. he plots and tries again.
this time, hammer's laughter in his ears and cock in his ass hurts less and spurs him onwards. nothing like negative reinforcement to make his goals so much clearer.
it doesn't stop, not even when he's stolen penny. billy's sick when hammer whispers to him about what he's going to do with her, about taking everything from billy just because he can. horrible pulls off caper after caper because he's determined to teach hammer a lesson, show him that he's really something. every time, without fail, hammer is there, rutting up against horrible and turning him over rough-shod to the police.
once, with his pants in tatters at his waist and lab coat only giving a semblance of decency, horrible asks why hammer keeps doing this to him.
hammer grins. "evil has a nice, tight ass. who wouldn't?"
dr horrible, penny/horrible and hammer, did you boys really think i was *that* dumb?
penny fades into obscurity very quickly, despite being at the center of the city's hero/villain rivalry. it suits her fine, though rumors of her demise were greatly exaggerated. when she comes back, she knows exactly what to do.
she's sitting in the laundromat eating frozen yogurt when she sees billy--dr horrible, indeed-- for the first time since the debacle. he drops his hamper and jaw at the same time, and she decides then and there to keep him. those reactions could only make for a very responsive boy.
she's leading his next evil deed, and it's working much more smoothly than any of the rest of his have, if her intel is correct. captain hammer himself seems impressed... at first. but his cheeks color and he stops in his tracks at the sight of penny, strong and alive in front of him.
her smile is bright and sharp, and it's strange to see dr horrible kneeling under her hand. "did you boys really think i was that dumb? to get under the masks of the strongest men in the city without even trying." she laughs softly, and hammer finds himself drawn to her without his permission.
torchwood, jack/ianto, meeting his family for the first time
spoilers for Children of Earth, though i'm taking some license with it.
intellectually, ianto knows that jack has family. has had family. a man doesn't live through wars and a century of humankind without getting close to someone along the way. and ianto knows, too, that jack sees a sentient being on two legs (or, at least he hopes jack limits himself to beings with only two legs) as an option. he doesn't count himself as very special, even though he thrills every time someone calls them a couple. makes things more real for him.
or, at least, he thought it made things more real. nothing is quite as real as meeting jack's daughter and grandson after the world has all but ended for them. alice's eyes are wary still of jack, and steven's never let too far out of her sight. he looks a bit worse for wear, blood still dried at the base of his ears where ianto knows jack had subjected him to measures to save the world. it's not ideal, not by a long shot, but ianto is a consummate professional.
he introduces himself, first to steven, and then to alice. the look in her eyes doesn't change, and he resigns himself to being low on her list of people to meet at this very moment. it could be far worse, he assumes. he knows he never found someone with a good relationship with step-parents anyway.
he finds his joy, instead, in having another piece of his life with captain jack harkness make sense.
criminal minds, morgan/garcia, admitting their feelings for the first time
he's taken his life into his hands once more, some stupid stunt that nearly kills him and saves the day. but she's never been one to want a hero. she berates him for it when he gets back to quantico, in the privacy of her office with only the glow of her monitors for light. it's late, and she's hopped up on caffeine and chocolate, the only two things that have kept her from taking his head off entirely.
"what did we say about you doing stupid things that get you hurt?" she asks, frustration making her voice more tired with every word.
he stands and pulls her into a hug. "it's my job, baby girl. just like it's yours to never, never stop talking to me. i don't care if you're yelling at me over the radio. i don't know what i'd do if you ever stopped talking to me."
"i can't lose you, derek morgan." it slips out with a punch to his chest to punctuate it before she rests her head next to his heartbeat.
"my heart wouldn't let me die, sweet thing. i love you too much."
torchwood, rhys/gwen, first child
spoilers for Children of Earth.
they make a mess of it, like all parents do. they argue about her involvement in torchwood, in the rebuilding work after ianto's death and jack's grief-stricken exit from their lives. gwen says that the rift won't monitor itself, while rhys thinks that it's too much stress on the baby. in the quiet time after the arguments, she weeps onto his shoulder, telling him how recruiting lois habiba and john hart and a doctor that martha jones recommended... how rebuilding torchwood from its ashes is the only thing that stops her from mourning the teammates she's lost in so short a time.
they buy all the wrong food and the right toys, paint the nursery pink, then blue, then yellow, then green after gwen has a nasty run in with an alien that teaches her to hate the color yellow. she gets as big as a house and her mood swings run on a schedule that rhys can't get used to, no matter how he tries.
but they do try. they make compromises and on the day that the baby is born, rhys is holding her hand and the little boy is perfect. ten fingers and toes, a wild little curl of hair at the top of his head and lungs fit for any welshman.
gwen thanks god above for lucking out with her man when rhys suggests they name him ianto.
SPN, Dean/Castiel, Dean finds RPS written about his and Cas' actors ...
dean is simultaneously shocked, insulted and a little intrigued. on the plus side, he finds comfort in the idea that it's not him and his brother getting it on, despite what chuck the prophet wrote in the books. because that? was freaky weird and not in a good way.
on the other hand, he's not sure how much he likes this actor playing him on the show. sure, this jensen guy can look a little roguish and he's got the catchphrases down. it's just that he's not sure getting played by a pretty boy like that is a compliment to his own... well, self. plus it's not like sam's really 8 feet taller than him, like that jared guy is to jensen.
castiel hasn't chimed in yet on the weirdo with the girl's name playing his character, but dean's still boggling at what he's finding on the internet. and if castiel hasn't said anything about it yet, dean wonders if he knows at all.
there's people out there (he wants to say girls, because there cannot be that many dudes who get into the whole... man on man, flowery language, written stuff that's out there... can there?) writing stuff about that jensen guy getting it on with misha, the guy playing castiel. and, yeah, there's internet rules about there being porn about almost anything out there (he's typed in some weird stuff, and sam almost killed him for locking up the laptop with his searches). but really? he doesn't get it.
so he watches castiel. chuck wrote in enough detail that the actors barely have to do any thinking at all about what they're doing. but dean doesn't see where they're "eye-fucking" or touching more than necessary. he tests it out, when castiel's close enough for it to work. but angels must have some default mechanism that has them disregarding personal space and boundaries anyway. if they were playing gay chicken? dean's pretty sure he would've lost by now anyway.
he chalks the experiment up as a loss and moves on. it's bad enough that castiel doesn't say anything about it. now he has to deal with thoughts of maybe some dean/castiel action going on in the back of his mind.
SPN, Sam and Dean gen or slash, one brother suffers amnesia and the other has to remind him of who they are
dean watches from the other side of the hospital glass, eyes on his brother with head wrapped in gauze and one eye swollen shut. wendigo attack gone wrong, not that the doctor has that on his statement. dean thinks he called it a bar fight, with added dog mauling on the side to explain the chunk of flesh missing from his leg. but he can't be sure he was all that coherent when he was talking.
dean watches, his mind's eye seeing under the cover to the myriad scars left from wounds tended by unskilled hands, clumsy with loss of blood on their own. the doctors hold no hope out to dean, complete memory loss due to head trauma and dean?
dean looks at it as blessing and curse. on the one hand, he knows sam is a better hunter at times than he'll ever be, ruthless and hardened from the past couple of years since jess' death. on the other hand, he thinks of adam, of being under the spell of the djinn. of sam, at stanford and happy. he doesn't wish a lifestyle of hunting on anyone... even his brother, who he loves more than life itself.
he opens the door, and steps into the room, head reeling with what he has to do and what he wants. sam tilts his head toward him, eyes blank of recognition. "hello." the voice that greets him is weak and guileless, rough and creaky as if from disuse. it's only been a handful of days, and still sam is not who he was.
"hey." dean rubs the back of his neck. "the doctors didn't give me any guidelines on this so i figured i should ask you what you want to know?" his voice lilts at the end, like a question, and he hates himself for sounding so indecisive.
"who am i? who are you?"
dean smiles gently and stuffs his hands in his pockets. "my name is dean. you're sam winchester. you're my little brother and the smartest guy i know. you could be whatever and whoever you wanted to be." and if that doesn't sound like a promise, dean doesn't know what does.
spn, sam/dean, kissing it better
wee!chesters ahoy!
dad doesn't leave them alone for too long of a stretch at a time. not after the first time child services had been called on him. he'd come back from an overnight hunt to find his boys in the system and a judge asking what he was doing all night that he couldn't find a babysitter before he left. usually, when dad has the long hunts, he sends them up to blue earth and pastor jim. or up to bobby's salvage yard where they spent hours running between rusty towers of cars and trucks.
it's there, dean 8 and sam 4, that dean institutes 'kissing things better'. they'd seen it on tv once or twice, that a kiss would stop all their hurts and make it all better. and dad always did say look out for sam, so he does. when sam bangs his hand on the door to an old chevy truck as they're playing tag, dean kisses it and instantly sam is off and running again. same with when he bangs his knee on the rickety third step up the back porch. little things.
they grow out of it fast enough, dad uncaring about kiddie notions and training his boys to be harder. and dean doesn't ask questions. goes along with it like the good little soldier dad's teaching him to be.
right up until sam's 14 and bangs his head on a low ceiling in the cabin they're squatting in while dad does a job on the sunnier side of montana. dean grabs his head as gently as he can with cold, numb fingers, and kisses the little red mark left behind. sam looks at him with wonderment and says nothing for a very, very long time.
dean worries for the longest time, thinking that maybe he pushed sam too far when the emo rebel is always hovering beneath the surface. he makes to crack a joke, anything, when sam finally speaks up.
"you missed mothering me, didn't you dean?" he smiles brightly. "it's ok. i'm pretty sure i've got some clothes for you to wash and i sure could use a sandwich, mom."
dean grins. "get it yourself, rugrat." not awkward at all.
Kings, David/Jack, Silas decides to neutralize David's threat by marrying him to Jack
silas can hear the cheers when david enters a room, the way everyone turns toward him and waits on his word. days were that they would do the same for silas, king of gilboa. silas remembers being the hero for his people. the story of the butterflies that landed atop his head like a crown? it was hard won, but that annointing by His power was not something to be taken lightly.
and now this... shepherd boy from a border town near gath has only to stand and everyone stands with him. silas can see it, the gears working in the boy's mind after the butterflies land on him as they did on silas in legend. defeating the goliaths, bringing peace talks with gath, rescuing the charter... david shepherd can do no wrong.
silas hates it.
it's not only opportunity that grabs him after his retreat for meditation with david at his side. he knows well about jack's proclivities, that his lover would not stay quiet long. and the fealty that david swears again and again leaves no doubt in his mind about the course of his action. he toys with asking reverend samuels about it, but knows no clear reply will come.
a man of mergers and acquisitions, a businessman to his core, silas sees opportunity and takes it. the death of katrina ghent gives him all the vehicle he needs. a word in jack's ear, and a promise seals the deal.
the glitter flash of cameras catches their entry into the hall. jack smiles for them all with a wave. "i would like you to meet my fiance, david shepherd."
CWRPS, Jeff/virgin!Jensen, caught experimenting
it's been a long day on set, and jeff is more tired than he figures he's been in a long time. the boys got a chance to knock off early due to some scene conflict that couldn't be resolved until daylight, leaving jeff to finish what he could before going home. he pets bisou gently as he drops his things by the door, her head only propping up slightly at his entrance. with a smile, he thanks god for small miracles. if bisou's not underfoot, that means jensen made it in and let her out for a run.
he heads back to the bedroom, more than ready to get some rest. but nothing, nothing, is able to stop him in his tracks quite like the sight he sees on his bed upon opening the door.
jensen moans softly, his legs spread wide and the fingers of one hand teasing at his entrance. jeff wonders how long he's been at it when he sees jensen slip two fingers inside with a blush.
"boy, what are you doing?" he asks, voice rough edged with arousal and sleep.
jensen blushes deeper and stops what he's doing. "you made it sound so good, jeff. i couldn't help it."
jeff sends up a prayer, wondering if having an untried jensen in his bed is a blessing or a curse.
Harry Potter, Harry/Draco, I almost had you
there's hexes and jinxes flying overhead, volleys stopped short by the plush couches on either side of the room. they've been at it for the better part of an hour, ever since draco got home from work. harry's tossed himself around the room like the action heroes from the muggle movies he rents in an effort to both dodge the hexes aimed his way and to find a better vantage point to take out his target.
it's only after a glittery jinx of unknown origins whizzes past harry's ear that he throws up a flag of surrender. "truce!"
draco pops up with a grin. "already? i was having fun!"
harry pants and throws himself down on the couch. "we're too old for this."
draco straddles his hips with a smirk and kisses him. "i almost had you, that time."
SPN, Dean/Castiel, kissing lessons
castiel hasn't exactly Fallen yet. as low an angel as castiel is on the totem pole, dean has no doubt that there's more chaos than order in the angel hierarchy. and no one's going to miss one little messenger who went missing during the battle between heaven, hell and earth.
dean just... doesn't like taking chances. it's strange having an angel in the backseat, silent and stoic. it's even stranger when half the people in the bar stop hitting on dean to hit on castiel instead. the "touched by an angel" jokes have been on repeat for so long, they're worn out.
it's just that castiel? doesn't exactly know what to do with the offers. for someone who's been around humans for so long, dean thinks that maybe castiel's missed out on an important part of life.
"so they want to... kiss me?" castiel asks, looking so unsure that, if it weren't for the question, dean would swear he's talking to jimmy.
dean clears his throat. "well, among other things. but kissing's first on the menu, yeah." he clears his throat. "you do know how to kiss, don't you?" the blank look on castiel's face is more than enough of an answer. dean sits heavily on the motel bed, grateful for sam having gone for essentials.
"you need to teach me, if it will help in furthering our mission."
dean laughs a little nervously at that. there's no way around it. if he could teach castiel a little smoothness, there'd be three of them able to schmooze information out of witnesses. kissing lessons.
"just... follow me, ok?" without hesitation, dean crashes into teaching head first, pressing his lips against castiel's. he throws a couple of his best moves at him, pressing his suit until castiel starts responding in kind. it's hot, and dean just takes it to the next level, and then the next until he finally has to pull away to breathe.
huh. castiel sure learns fast.
X-Men, Pyro/Iceman, "Some people never change."
pyro never learns. sure he's got a better handle on the whole fire-manipulation angle he has working for him. but some people never change. he's still too hot-headed to think his way clearly out of a situation. never clearly enough to see a solution that doesn't involve an explosion.
iceman watches from a far enough distance that he's not involved in the battle before him-- pyro taking on someone with enough power to almost stamp out pyro's fire. had he stayed with the professor, iceman's sure that pyro could take whatever came after him, even so far as to create a flame where there was none already, or where most situations wouldn't allow it. but that hothead, that stubborn attitude never let pyro see.
iceman turns away in disgust right as the mutant they'd been chasing (same goal, different motives) smashes pyro into the ground and disappears. he's sure pyro'll survive, though he doesn't want to see him get up with that same pigheaded attitute.
some folks never change.
Wolverine Origins, James/Victor, Victor always needs attention after he's been killing people
modern science says it's probably the endorphins and the adrenaline that keep victor so pumped after a kill. it's like he's spoiling for another fight, even when it's just james beside him. it's less of a struggle in times of war, when victor can go on killing and killing with almost no end in sight.
it's in the quiet after that james finds himself sitting beside victor by the fire. victor's still high on the bloodlust that flows through his veins, but more sedate as he sharpens his claws. it's there, with the fire of his soul reflected in his eyes, that victor starts talking. telling stories that james is sure he's heard dozens, even hundreds of times before. some things are true, things that happened to them when they were just boys on the run with only the robes on their back. those times, james shivers and wonders how they ever survived.
other times, victor tells stories as false as his claws are sharp. fantastic beasts and far off worlds. james thinks that maybe victor could be a writer, if things were not as they had been.
the stories continue well beyond the night and into the bright light of morning. james wishes he could have fallen asleep for an hour, perhaps two, but knows that victor craves the attention almost as much as he craves the feel of a kill. the cycle starts again far too soon for james' liking, but he soldiers on and watches his brother rip through cloth and flesh to the bone of enemy after enemy.
Chronicles of Narnia, Edmund/Caspian, first kiss
the dawn treader is quiet, and edmund doesn't know how he does it, but caspian has made it so that no one's above deck at this hour of night. the stars in narnia are nothing at all like what he had at home, though he remembers the constellations better here than he ever did in england.
he turns to caspian to tell him this, to thank him for giving him this moment of peace between the rescue of the missing lords on the isles at the boundaries of narnian territory. he's not prepared for how close caspian is standing.
"thou art truly lovely," caspian says, speaking an ancient form of narnian that edmund hasn't heard since he was crowned king so many years ago. he blushes and stammers a thank you, unbalanced by the turn of events. caspian leans down and presses his lips against edmund's gently, barely there at all, but hot enough to make edmund's heart pound in his chest.
"truly lovely," caspian repeats, their lips a scant breath away and edmund doesn't stop to think at all. just draws him back in with a hand tangled in the hair at the base of his skull and kisses him again with all he's worth.
American Idol, Adam/Kris, first time Kris takes the lead
it's not that kris doesn't want to direct where they're going with... well, whatever you call a relationship that happens in tour stops. it's just that whenever they do get together, they don't stop to question who's doing what. adam presses him against a wall backstage, bracketing him in while promising all kinds of dirty wonderful things to happen in the hotel room. and kris? laid back, easy kris? just goes along for the ride.
it's not like kris hasn't considered maybe doing something more. but he's at a loss for how to ask adam if he ever bottoms if they can't even put a name to what they're doing with each other? so kris just... pushes. a little. asks a question about this, makes a little demand about that. just enough of an assumption of control that he sees adam grin and let himself slide under whatever kris wants.
and that is a powerful, powerful thing. backstage in new york, kris pushes adam up against a doorframe, and whispers in his ear. "my room, tonight. i can hardly wait to get my hands on you." he hopes he doesn't imagine the shiver, not when he's sure of the grin adam sports for the rest of the afterparty.
American Idol, Adam/Kris, first time with a guy
he's nervous. ridiculously turned on, but nervous nonetheless. adam's never been anything but good to him, and he'd hate for this one thing to kill their friendship. but he's not totally at ease here.
kris has never felt tinier in his life that when he's finally stripped out of his clothes and is covered by adam, stripped too of his armaments and makeup until he's barely recognizable. adam's big, in comparison to kris, and he's always known that intellectually, but never figured it into the two of them in bed together.
he's never actually figured the two of them in bed together until a little while ago when he was pressed up against a wall, riding adam's thigh and losing himself in one kiss after another. he's nervous, and horny as hell and he doesn't even know where to put his hands.
his frustration must show. "we'll go slow, sweetie." adam nuzzles his ear and just rests against him, just acclimating him to the feel of a man's body against his own until he feels more reciprocation than he's giving. each time, adam doesn't push; not even when kris starts rocking his hips up into the cradle of adam's and little moans start filling the air. adam feels like he's almost near sainthood, but a promise is a promise. and adam is a man of his word.
kris keeps rocking their cocks together, needing something but not knowing what to ask for. he may whine a little, though he'd never admit it to anyone, let alone himself, and it's only stopped short by adam's hand closing around his cock.
"slow down, kris baby. i'll get you there." adam jacks him slow, jacks them together until kris comes with a shout and they collapse back into the bed like puppets cut from their strings.
somewhere, in the back of his mind, kris wonders why he'd never done this before now.
that's over 4K of commentfic. and i came in second!! woo.
doctor who, doctor/master, the beauty in destruction
what he doesn't tell martha and jack is that the forgiveness he offers the Master is nothing compared to what they've done together in the past. before he became the Doctor, when he was just the protege of the time lord who stared into the void and went mad. before, when gallifrey was still red sands and endless skies, there were legends of the Master and his young apprentice.
legends which made the blood of civilizations run cold and men faint out of fear.
it was said that the boy, known as Watcher, saw the beauty in his Master's destruction. entire worlds saw the two of them in the moment of their collapse. both charismatic, both gregarious, and both deadly.
the tales spread far and wide, stories of a time lord and his boy who stood aside and watched peoples burn. the Doctor thanks his lucky stars that the tales did not spread to earth, to the people he's come to have a fondness for. the man who makes people better, as the master put it, sees in them his salvation.
x-men, feral!Wolverine/Gambit, "killer" isn't the right word, but it's the first word that comes to mind.
it's times like these that gambit wonders how much logan views him as prey, and how much logan sees him as a teammate. the snarling is almost par for the course, remy's come to realize, so the line is very blurred here. on their lighter days, remy's even been able to joke about it. calls it logan's pms.
but he's felt that adamantium heavy frame against his own in more ways than one. an ill-advised joke now would mean taking his life into his hands. and while he cares for logan, he doesn't want to push him over the edge.
"c'mon, cher. these things will pass and you'll be back to jokin' with ol' remy lebeau, n'est-ce pas?" he murmurs, trying to soothe logan while edging his way back towards the door. wolverine snarls again, sharp claws extended like... well, 'killer' may not be the right word, but it's the first word gambit comes across to describe it.
he advances and remy nods. this is no time to antagonize logan. "p'raps another time, then, cher." he bolts from the room and closes the door just as claws strike through the wood near his head.
"told you to leave him be, sugar," rogue sing-songs as she passes down the corridor.
dr. horrible, hammer/horrible, evil has a nice tight ass
warning: non-con/dub con here....
consent is as dubious every time as it was the first time, pressed against a brick wall after that freeze ray stunt went south. billy doesn't know how the cops were so oblivious, not one to be found even as hammmer takes him without so much as a by-your-leave.
horrible chokes it down and plots another caper, one that's sure to add his name to the rank and file of the evil league of evil. he plots and tries again.
this time, hammer's laughter in his ears and cock in his ass hurts less and spurs him onwards. nothing like negative reinforcement to make his goals so much clearer.
it doesn't stop, not even when he's stolen penny. billy's sick when hammer whispers to him about what he's going to do with her, about taking everything from billy just because he can. horrible pulls off caper after caper because he's determined to teach hammer a lesson, show him that he's really something. every time, without fail, hammer is there, rutting up against horrible and turning him over rough-shod to the police.
once, with his pants in tatters at his waist and lab coat only giving a semblance of decency, horrible asks why hammer keeps doing this to him.
hammer grins. "evil has a nice, tight ass. who wouldn't?"
dr horrible, penny/horrible and hammer, did you boys really think i was *that* dumb?
penny fades into obscurity very quickly, despite being at the center of the city's hero/villain rivalry. it suits her fine, though rumors of her demise were greatly exaggerated. when she comes back, she knows exactly what to do.
she's sitting in the laundromat eating frozen yogurt when she sees billy--dr horrible, indeed-- for the first time since the debacle. he drops his hamper and jaw at the same time, and she decides then and there to keep him. those reactions could only make for a very responsive boy.
she's leading his next evil deed, and it's working much more smoothly than any of the rest of his have, if her intel is correct. captain hammer himself seems impressed... at first. but his cheeks color and he stops in his tracks at the sight of penny, strong and alive in front of him.
her smile is bright and sharp, and it's strange to see dr horrible kneeling under her hand. "did you boys really think i was that dumb? to get under the masks of the strongest men in the city without even trying." she laughs softly, and hammer finds himself drawn to her without his permission.
torchwood, jack/ianto, meeting his family for the first time
spoilers for Children of Earth, though i'm taking some license with it.
intellectually, ianto knows that jack has family. has had family. a man doesn't live through wars and a century of humankind without getting close to someone along the way. and ianto knows, too, that jack sees a sentient being on two legs (or, at least he hopes jack limits himself to beings with only two legs) as an option. he doesn't count himself as very special, even though he thrills every time someone calls them a couple. makes things more real for him.
or, at least, he thought it made things more real. nothing is quite as real as meeting jack's daughter and grandson after the world has all but ended for them. alice's eyes are wary still of jack, and steven's never let too far out of her sight. he looks a bit worse for wear, blood still dried at the base of his ears where ianto knows jack had subjected him to measures to save the world. it's not ideal, not by a long shot, but ianto is a consummate professional.
he introduces himself, first to steven, and then to alice. the look in her eyes doesn't change, and he resigns himself to being low on her list of people to meet at this very moment. it could be far worse, he assumes. he knows he never found someone with a good relationship with step-parents anyway.
he finds his joy, instead, in having another piece of his life with captain jack harkness make sense.
criminal minds, morgan/garcia, admitting their feelings for the first time
he's taken his life into his hands once more, some stupid stunt that nearly kills him and saves the day. but she's never been one to want a hero. she berates him for it when he gets back to quantico, in the privacy of her office with only the glow of her monitors for light. it's late, and she's hopped up on caffeine and chocolate, the only two things that have kept her from taking his head off entirely.
"what did we say about you doing stupid things that get you hurt?" she asks, frustration making her voice more tired with every word.
he stands and pulls her into a hug. "it's my job, baby girl. just like it's yours to never, never stop talking to me. i don't care if you're yelling at me over the radio. i don't know what i'd do if you ever stopped talking to me."
"i can't lose you, derek morgan." it slips out with a punch to his chest to punctuate it before she rests her head next to his heartbeat.
"my heart wouldn't let me die, sweet thing. i love you too much."
torchwood, rhys/gwen, first child
spoilers for Children of Earth.
they make a mess of it, like all parents do. they argue about her involvement in torchwood, in the rebuilding work after ianto's death and jack's grief-stricken exit from their lives. gwen says that the rift won't monitor itself, while rhys thinks that it's too much stress on the baby. in the quiet time after the arguments, she weeps onto his shoulder, telling him how recruiting lois habiba and john hart and a doctor that martha jones recommended... how rebuilding torchwood from its ashes is the only thing that stops her from mourning the teammates she's lost in so short a time.
they buy all the wrong food and the right toys, paint the nursery pink, then blue, then yellow, then green after gwen has a nasty run in with an alien that teaches her to hate the color yellow. she gets as big as a house and her mood swings run on a schedule that rhys can't get used to, no matter how he tries.
but they do try. they make compromises and on the day that the baby is born, rhys is holding her hand and the little boy is perfect. ten fingers and toes, a wild little curl of hair at the top of his head and lungs fit for any welshman.
gwen thanks god above for lucking out with her man when rhys suggests they name him ianto.
SPN, Dean/Castiel, Dean finds RPS written about his and Cas' actors ...
dean is simultaneously shocked, insulted and a little intrigued. on the plus side, he finds comfort in the idea that it's not him and his brother getting it on, despite what chuck the prophet wrote in the books. because that? was freaky weird and not in a good way.
on the other hand, he's not sure how much he likes this actor playing him on the show. sure, this jensen guy can look a little roguish and he's got the catchphrases down. it's just that he's not sure getting played by a pretty boy like that is a compliment to his own... well, self. plus it's not like sam's really 8 feet taller than him, like that jared guy is to jensen.
castiel hasn't chimed in yet on the weirdo with the girl's name playing his character, but dean's still boggling at what he's finding on the internet. and if castiel hasn't said anything about it yet, dean wonders if he knows at all.
there's people out there (he wants to say girls, because there cannot be that many dudes who get into the whole... man on man, flowery language, written stuff that's out there... can there?) writing stuff about that jensen guy getting it on with misha, the guy playing castiel. and, yeah, there's internet rules about there being porn about almost anything out there (he's typed in some weird stuff, and sam almost killed him for locking up the laptop with his searches). but really? he doesn't get it.
so he watches castiel. chuck wrote in enough detail that the actors barely have to do any thinking at all about what they're doing. but dean doesn't see where they're "eye-fucking" or touching more than necessary. he tests it out, when castiel's close enough for it to work. but angels must have some default mechanism that has them disregarding personal space and boundaries anyway. if they were playing gay chicken? dean's pretty sure he would've lost by now anyway.
he chalks the experiment up as a loss and moves on. it's bad enough that castiel doesn't say anything about it. now he has to deal with thoughts of maybe some dean/castiel action going on in the back of his mind.
SPN, Sam and Dean gen or slash, one brother suffers amnesia and the other has to remind him of who they are
dean watches from the other side of the hospital glass, eyes on his brother with head wrapped in gauze and one eye swollen shut. wendigo attack gone wrong, not that the doctor has that on his statement. dean thinks he called it a bar fight, with added dog mauling on the side to explain the chunk of flesh missing from his leg. but he can't be sure he was all that coherent when he was talking.
dean watches, his mind's eye seeing under the cover to the myriad scars left from wounds tended by unskilled hands, clumsy with loss of blood on their own. the doctors hold no hope out to dean, complete memory loss due to head trauma and dean?
dean looks at it as blessing and curse. on the one hand, he knows sam is a better hunter at times than he'll ever be, ruthless and hardened from the past couple of years since jess' death. on the other hand, he thinks of adam, of being under the spell of the djinn. of sam, at stanford and happy. he doesn't wish a lifestyle of hunting on anyone... even his brother, who he loves more than life itself.
he opens the door, and steps into the room, head reeling with what he has to do and what he wants. sam tilts his head toward him, eyes blank of recognition. "hello." the voice that greets him is weak and guileless, rough and creaky as if from disuse. it's only been a handful of days, and still sam is not who he was.
"hey." dean rubs the back of his neck. "the doctors didn't give me any guidelines on this so i figured i should ask you what you want to know?" his voice lilts at the end, like a question, and he hates himself for sounding so indecisive.
"who am i? who are you?"
dean smiles gently and stuffs his hands in his pockets. "my name is dean. you're sam winchester. you're my little brother and the smartest guy i know. you could be whatever and whoever you wanted to be." and if that doesn't sound like a promise, dean doesn't know what does.
spn, sam/dean, kissing it better
wee!chesters ahoy!
dad doesn't leave them alone for too long of a stretch at a time. not after the first time child services had been called on him. he'd come back from an overnight hunt to find his boys in the system and a judge asking what he was doing all night that he couldn't find a babysitter before he left. usually, when dad has the long hunts, he sends them up to blue earth and pastor jim. or up to bobby's salvage yard where they spent hours running between rusty towers of cars and trucks.
it's there, dean 8 and sam 4, that dean institutes 'kissing things better'. they'd seen it on tv once or twice, that a kiss would stop all their hurts and make it all better. and dad always did say look out for sam, so he does. when sam bangs his hand on the door to an old chevy truck as they're playing tag, dean kisses it and instantly sam is off and running again. same with when he bangs his knee on the rickety third step up the back porch. little things.
they grow out of it fast enough, dad uncaring about kiddie notions and training his boys to be harder. and dean doesn't ask questions. goes along with it like the good little soldier dad's teaching him to be.
right up until sam's 14 and bangs his head on a low ceiling in the cabin they're squatting in while dad does a job on the sunnier side of montana. dean grabs his head as gently as he can with cold, numb fingers, and kisses the little red mark left behind. sam looks at him with wonderment and says nothing for a very, very long time.
dean worries for the longest time, thinking that maybe he pushed sam too far when the emo rebel is always hovering beneath the surface. he makes to crack a joke, anything, when sam finally speaks up.
"you missed mothering me, didn't you dean?" he smiles brightly. "it's ok. i'm pretty sure i've got some clothes for you to wash and i sure could use a sandwich, mom."
dean grins. "get it yourself, rugrat." not awkward at all.
Kings, David/Jack, Silas decides to neutralize David's threat by marrying him to Jack
silas can hear the cheers when david enters a room, the way everyone turns toward him and waits on his word. days were that they would do the same for silas, king of gilboa. silas remembers being the hero for his people. the story of the butterflies that landed atop his head like a crown? it was hard won, but that annointing by His power was not something to be taken lightly.
and now this... shepherd boy from a border town near gath has only to stand and everyone stands with him. silas can see it, the gears working in the boy's mind after the butterflies land on him as they did on silas in legend. defeating the goliaths, bringing peace talks with gath, rescuing the charter... david shepherd can do no wrong.
silas hates it.
it's not only opportunity that grabs him after his retreat for meditation with david at his side. he knows well about jack's proclivities, that his lover would not stay quiet long. and the fealty that david swears again and again leaves no doubt in his mind about the course of his action. he toys with asking reverend samuels about it, but knows no clear reply will come.
a man of mergers and acquisitions, a businessman to his core, silas sees opportunity and takes it. the death of katrina ghent gives him all the vehicle he needs. a word in jack's ear, and a promise seals the deal.
the glitter flash of cameras catches their entry into the hall. jack smiles for them all with a wave. "i would like you to meet my fiance, david shepherd."
CWRPS, Jeff/virgin!Jensen, caught experimenting
it's been a long day on set, and jeff is more tired than he figures he's been in a long time. the boys got a chance to knock off early due to some scene conflict that couldn't be resolved until daylight, leaving jeff to finish what he could before going home. he pets bisou gently as he drops his things by the door, her head only propping up slightly at his entrance. with a smile, he thanks god for small miracles. if bisou's not underfoot, that means jensen made it in and let her out for a run.
he heads back to the bedroom, more than ready to get some rest. but nothing, nothing, is able to stop him in his tracks quite like the sight he sees on his bed upon opening the door.
jensen moans softly, his legs spread wide and the fingers of one hand teasing at his entrance. jeff wonders how long he's been at it when he sees jensen slip two fingers inside with a blush.
"boy, what are you doing?" he asks, voice rough edged with arousal and sleep.
jensen blushes deeper and stops what he's doing. "you made it sound so good, jeff. i couldn't help it."
jeff sends up a prayer, wondering if having an untried jensen in his bed is a blessing or a curse.
Harry Potter, Harry/Draco, I almost had you
there's hexes and jinxes flying overhead, volleys stopped short by the plush couches on either side of the room. they've been at it for the better part of an hour, ever since draco got home from work. harry's tossed himself around the room like the action heroes from the muggle movies he rents in an effort to both dodge the hexes aimed his way and to find a better vantage point to take out his target.
it's only after a glittery jinx of unknown origins whizzes past harry's ear that he throws up a flag of surrender. "truce!"
draco pops up with a grin. "already? i was having fun!"
harry pants and throws himself down on the couch. "we're too old for this."
draco straddles his hips with a smirk and kisses him. "i almost had you, that time."
SPN, Dean/Castiel, kissing lessons
castiel hasn't exactly Fallen yet. as low an angel as castiel is on the totem pole, dean has no doubt that there's more chaos than order in the angel hierarchy. and no one's going to miss one little messenger who went missing during the battle between heaven, hell and earth.
dean just... doesn't like taking chances. it's strange having an angel in the backseat, silent and stoic. it's even stranger when half the people in the bar stop hitting on dean to hit on castiel instead. the "touched by an angel" jokes have been on repeat for so long, they're worn out.
it's just that castiel? doesn't exactly know what to do with the offers. for someone who's been around humans for so long, dean thinks that maybe castiel's missed out on an important part of life.
"so they want to... kiss me?" castiel asks, looking so unsure that, if it weren't for the question, dean would swear he's talking to jimmy.
dean clears his throat. "well, among other things. but kissing's first on the menu, yeah." he clears his throat. "you do know how to kiss, don't you?" the blank look on castiel's face is more than enough of an answer. dean sits heavily on the motel bed, grateful for sam having gone for essentials.
"you need to teach me, if it will help in furthering our mission."
dean laughs a little nervously at that. there's no way around it. if he could teach castiel a little smoothness, there'd be three of them able to schmooze information out of witnesses. kissing lessons.
"just... follow me, ok?" without hesitation, dean crashes into teaching head first, pressing his lips against castiel's. he throws a couple of his best moves at him, pressing his suit until castiel starts responding in kind. it's hot, and dean just takes it to the next level, and then the next until he finally has to pull away to breathe.
huh. castiel sure learns fast.
X-Men, Pyro/Iceman, "Some people never change."
pyro never learns. sure he's got a better handle on the whole fire-manipulation angle he has working for him. but some people never change. he's still too hot-headed to think his way clearly out of a situation. never clearly enough to see a solution that doesn't involve an explosion.
iceman watches from a far enough distance that he's not involved in the battle before him-- pyro taking on someone with enough power to almost stamp out pyro's fire. had he stayed with the professor, iceman's sure that pyro could take whatever came after him, even so far as to create a flame where there was none already, or where most situations wouldn't allow it. but that hothead, that stubborn attitude never let pyro see.
iceman turns away in disgust right as the mutant they'd been chasing (same goal, different motives) smashes pyro into the ground and disappears. he's sure pyro'll survive, though he doesn't want to see him get up with that same pigheaded attitute.
some folks never change.
Wolverine Origins, James/Victor, Victor always needs attention after he's been killing people
modern science says it's probably the endorphins and the adrenaline that keep victor so pumped after a kill. it's like he's spoiling for another fight, even when it's just james beside him. it's less of a struggle in times of war, when victor can go on killing and killing with almost no end in sight.
it's in the quiet after that james finds himself sitting beside victor by the fire. victor's still high on the bloodlust that flows through his veins, but more sedate as he sharpens his claws. it's there, with the fire of his soul reflected in his eyes, that victor starts talking. telling stories that james is sure he's heard dozens, even hundreds of times before. some things are true, things that happened to them when they were just boys on the run with only the robes on their back. those times, james shivers and wonders how they ever survived.
other times, victor tells stories as false as his claws are sharp. fantastic beasts and far off worlds. james thinks that maybe victor could be a writer, if things were not as they had been.
the stories continue well beyond the night and into the bright light of morning. james wishes he could have fallen asleep for an hour, perhaps two, but knows that victor craves the attention almost as much as he craves the feel of a kill. the cycle starts again far too soon for james' liking, but he soldiers on and watches his brother rip through cloth and flesh to the bone of enemy after enemy.
Chronicles of Narnia, Edmund/Caspian, first kiss
the dawn treader is quiet, and edmund doesn't know how he does it, but caspian has made it so that no one's above deck at this hour of night. the stars in narnia are nothing at all like what he had at home, though he remembers the constellations better here than he ever did in england.
he turns to caspian to tell him this, to thank him for giving him this moment of peace between the rescue of the missing lords on the isles at the boundaries of narnian territory. he's not prepared for how close caspian is standing.
"thou art truly lovely," caspian says, speaking an ancient form of narnian that edmund hasn't heard since he was crowned king so many years ago. he blushes and stammers a thank you, unbalanced by the turn of events. caspian leans down and presses his lips against edmund's gently, barely there at all, but hot enough to make edmund's heart pound in his chest.
"truly lovely," caspian repeats, their lips a scant breath away and edmund doesn't stop to think at all. just draws him back in with a hand tangled in the hair at the base of his skull and kisses him again with all he's worth.
American Idol, Adam/Kris, first time Kris takes the lead
it's not that kris doesn't want to direct where they're going with... well, whatever you call a relationship that happens in tour stops. it's just that whenever they do get together, they don't stop to question who's doing what. adam presses him against a wall backstage, bracketing him in while promising all kinds of dirty wonderful things to happen in the hotel room. and kris? laid back, easy kris? just goes along for the ride.
it's not like kris hasn't considered maybe doing something more. but he's at a loss for how to ask adam if he ever bottoms if they can't even put a name to what they're doing with each other? so kris just... pushes. a little. asks a question about this, makes a little demand about that. just enough of an assumption of control that he sees adam grin and let himself slide under whatever kris wants.
and that is a powerful, powerful thing. backstage in new york, kris pushes adam up against a doorframe, and whispers in his ear. "my room, tonight. i can hardly wait to get my hands on you." he hopes he doesn't imagine the shiver, not when he's sure of the grin adam sports for the rest of the afterparty.
American Idol, Adam/Kris, first time with a guy
he's nervous. ridiculously turned on, but nervous nonetheless. adam's never been anything but good to him, and he'd hate for this one thing to kill their friendship. but he's not totally at ease here.
kris has never felt tinier in his life that when he's finally stripped out of his clothes and is covered by adam, stripped too of his armaments and makeup until he's barely recognizable. adam's big, in comparison to kris, and he's always known that intellectually, but never figured it into the two of them in bed together.
he's never actually figured the two of them in bed together until a little while ago when he was pressed up against a wall, riding adam's thigh and losing himself in one kiss after another. he's nervous, and horny as hell and he doesn't even know where to put his hands.
his frustration must show. "we'll go slow, sweetie." adam nuzzles his ear and just rests against him, just acclimating him to the feel of a man's body against his own until he feels more reciprocation than he's giving. each time, adam doesn't push; not even when kris starts rocking his hips up into the cradle of adam's and little moans start filling the air. adam feels like he's almost near sainthood, but a promise is a promise. and adam is a man of his word.
kris keeps rocking their cocks together, needing something but not knowing what to ask for. he may whine a little, though he'd never admit it to anyone, let alone himself, and it's only stopped short by adam's hand closing around his cock.
"slow down, kris baby. i'll get you there." adam jacks him slow, jacks them together until kris comes with a shout and they collapse back into the bed like puppets cut from their strings.
somewhere, in the back of his mind, kris wonders why he'd never done this before now.
that's over 4K of commentfic. and i came in second!! woo.