[fic] prompts
Mar. 18th, 2010 07:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kricketsI'm in a funk. It's true. I have a couple of big fic projects I need to finish up (READ: completely re-do because they suck) and I haven't been able to force myself to do it. So I think my muse just needs a good kick in the nads. (My muse has nads? It's possible.) So leave me some prompts here and maybe I'll write a drabble for you. Hopefully it'll give me the proper jolt I'll need to get my ass back into gear.
LEAVE ME
a separate list of at least three of each of the following:
3+ fandoms/pairings
3+ song lyrics/book or movie titles
3+ random words
And I'll try to put something together for you.
I'll write Lost, Grey's, BSG, Harper's, and if you want to prompt anything else, ask and we'll see. Maybe one of my new fandoms? I don't know if I'm up for it, but if asked I might be. I trust you guys to know my phobias, writing-wise. No crossovers, cause I just can't.
a separate list of at least three of each of the following:
3+ fandoms/pairings
3+ song lyrics/book or movie titles
3+ random words
And I'll try to put something together for you.
I'll write Lost, Grey's, BSG, Harper's, and if you want to prompt anything else, ask and we'll see. Maybe one of my new fandoms? I don't know if I'm up for it, but if asked I might be. I trust you guys to know my phobias, writing-wise. No crossovers, cause I just can't.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-03-18 11:42 pm (UTC)Because he’s not
inside it
Like a father to impress
Like a mother's mourning dress
If we ever make a mess
I'll do anything for you
It's sad but it's true how society says
Her life is already over
There's nothing to do and there's nothing to say
Til the man of her dreams comes along picks her up and puts her over his shoulder
It seems so unlikely in this day and age
no subject
Date: 2010-03-19 12:15 am (UTC)Song Lyrics/Movie Titles → what doesn't kill you, doesn’t mean i didn’t get what i deserved, let's see how deep the bullet lies
Random Words → central park, brass, tijuana
no subject
Date: 2010-03-19 12:27 am (UTC)Lost - Claire, jungle, waking up, buzzing
BSG - Sam/Lee, ribbon, shoes, gravel
no subject
Date: 2010-03-19 01:19 am (UTC)abby/henry
And until you cut me down
I race around this town
Until you cut me down
I race around this town
Trying to find, oh, an emotion you cannot deny
abby/jimmy
And if you swear that you're alright,
I'm not gonna try and change your mind.
cal/chloe
Oh I jump into your grave and die
and on my word you'll give up your whole life for me and you'll be reborn, bigger and stronger
and less alive
no subject
Date: 2010-03-19 02:10 am (UTC)Can I get a list of fandoms/pairings and a list of random words?
no subject
Date: 2010-03-19 03:27 am (UTC)Micheal/Jin
Claire/Jack
Claire/Sawyer
Lyrics/Titles:
we were running for the money and the flesh
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow
Things Fall Apart
Random Words:
revelation
dirt road
omens
jack/claire, doesn't mean i didn't get what i deserved
Date: 2010-03-19 05:18 am (UTC)There's a night in front of the television, Jack sitting too close, her hand resting on his jean-covered thigh, his arm behind her back, thumb resting against the side of her breast.
Claire remembers sliding her hand further up his leg, finding hard flesh, remembers Jack arching into her touch, letting her rub him off against his jeans with the credits rolling by on the screen. She remembers the sound in his voice when he comes, faster than she would have imagined, remembers how he won't look at her afterward.
He doesn't stick around the house anymore when she's at home, and her crappy shifts at the bar make it easier for him to avoid her.
Soon enough she stops trying to speak with him at all, tries to forget, to pretend it didn't happen.
(She's only really successful at the first thing.)
--
Jack remembers the night in front of the television too, although a little differently than her. Weeks, he'd woken with the memory of a dream -- finding her in their shared bathroom, shoving her bathrobe over her thighs, fucking her against the sink.
Same dream, every night.
So when Claire reaches over, he's half asleep and already hard for her, though she doesn't know it. And he can't bring himself to stop her before he's shooting his load into his own pants. He remembers uttering a strained "fuck," and pushing her away so he can get up and clean himself off in the bathroom.
He doesn't come back to her, tries not to imagine her sitting there alone. Waiting. Unsatisfied.
Now, Claire has noisy sex at night with strangers she brings home from the bar. She screams their names and bangs on the wall adjacent to his room to make sure he can hear. Jack's aware that she does this because she knows he has an early surgery, that she does it to piss him off at the thought of another man inside her, making her come.
Jack knows he should be very, very angry.
(Truth is, it only turns him on.)
Re: jack/claire, doesn't mean i didn't get what i deserved
Date: 2010-03-19 05:21 am (UTC)You rule <33
Re: jack/claire, doesn't mean i didn't get what i deserved
Date: 2010-03-19 05:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-19 05:43 am (UTC)And then she moves against her makeshift pallet and can hear the material rustle underneath her, or a bird calls in the jungle, and she knows it's just her imagination.
Not deaf, just alone again.
Just like every day.
--
Claire keeps to a routine. She tries to hold on to those things that make her human, those things that make her not an animal.
"Let's go fishing," she tells herself. Companionship is hard to come by when you've been outcast. She talks to keep from going crazy -- or maybe she talks because she's already going crazy -- she's not sure which.
"Let's do," she hears a voice, not her own, turns and sees a face she's never seen.
"You," she says to the man, reaches for his hand, instantly recognizing a friend.
"I'm Richard," he tells her, takes her hand in his. His flesh is warm beneath her fingers and his smile kind.
"I'm Claire," she tells him.
Richard smiles. "I know who you are," he says, and the words make her feel safe, make her feel found.
I know who you are.
no subject
Date: 2010-03-19 05:45 am (UTC)I especially like the line about her talking to herself
She talks to keep from going crazy -- or maybe she talks because she's already going crazy -- she's not sure which.
That's so perfect. And yay Richard! This > the show by far
no subject
Date: 2010-03-19 06:13 am (UTC)Fandoms →
Roy & Alexandria (The Fall); Angel (the series); Mason/Daisy (Dead Like Me)
Song lyrics/book or movie titles →
If heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied; be my savior and I'll be your downfall; I am a blind man for a watchdog, I am prime for giving in
3+ random words →
birthdays, yellow, crucifix
(And yeah, I totally know about the muse hitting a slump. I have a Victor/Sierra fic I started at the end of the series and I haven't touched it since! And I think I had meant it for you as a late Xmas prezzie. *facepalm!*)
no subject
Date: 2010-03-19 12:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-19 05:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-19 05:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-19 05:43 pm (UTC)Chloe's never really believed in the afterlife, heaven, all of that, but it's safe to say she's always felt deep down the presence of her own soul.
Undeniable.
--
She had always been different than her friends, a bit of an odd bird. They called her obsessed, laughed at her collection of true crime novels, humored her when she talked about the things most people would rather never think about, changed the subject when it became too much.
Curious.
It was one of the first words Cal ever said to her when they met. He found her curious. And her own curiosity refreshing.
It's true he wasn't really her type. But neither she was his.
Still, he talked to her about life and death, human anatomy, the rituals of death, souls, even. He talked about things that no one before him had thought to talk to her about.
Cal and Chloe: quite the pair, her friends would say. And his too.
But they both knew what the others didn't, and it was enough for them.
Together, they were a pair.
--
Truth is, she'd been waiting for that proposal. She had even planned to say yes. Reality is not quite how she had pictured it, but at the same time, strangely fitting. For them, the odd pair.
And later, when John Wakefield raises that blade and looks at her, curious, Chloe feels at ease.
She makes her choice.
Two souls. Together. Bound by nothing.
And as she falls, it is the strongest she's ever felt.
no subject
Date: 2010-03-19 05:57 pm (UTC)My heart is breaking for them all over again and just ow. This is wonnnderful!
no subject
Date: 2010-03-19 06:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-19 06:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-20 12:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-20 12:01 am (UTC)Re: jack/claire, doesn't mean i didn't get what i deserved
Date: 2010-03-20 06:11 pm (UTC):-)
no subject
Date: 2010-03-21 01:18 am (UTC)3+ fandoms/pairings
lost-ben/anyone, lost-claire/kate, lost-claire/jack(in the new AU thingy this season)
3+ random words
pineapple, narration, sunday
no subject
Date: 2010-03-21 07:48 pm (UTC)And you did a great job adding a layer to their backstory.
no subject
Date: 2010-03-21 09:37 pm (UTC)Re: jack/claire, doesn't mean i didn't get what i deserved
Date: 2010-03-22 02:27 am (UTC)No, like, seriously, HELLO. Not at all prepared for that. It's so dark and angry and so...yeah the smut is nothing short of amazing but. Yeah. Wow.
I'm a little in love with this. Or maybe a lot.
this house is sad because he's not in it
Date: 2010-03-25 05:55 am (UTC)Now, standing before his little sister in this full and empty jungle, yards between them, he sees it like this gaping hole that it is. This secret kept, a daughter, a sister. Daddy took it, and her, to his grave.
"You're so much like him," she says, a palm on his cheek. Jack doesn't ask her how she could possibly know that.
"And you're not," he tells her. It's true. The touch of Christian Shephard is a mark you bear upon your soul, a darkness that can be seen in your eyes. Claire doesn't carry that burden. Never has. She is herself again, and Jack can see that clearly now.
She turns away, eyes cast down.
"It's a compliment, Claire," he assures her.
She smiles a moment, shyly, looks up. "Come with me," she urges.
He reaches for her outstretched hand.
--
The truth is that survival on the island isn't all that difficult, after the end of everything, after the "magic" is gone.
Claire's the one who calls it that: Magic.
Jack scoffs. He doesn't know what he'd call it. But certainly not that. Still, he rolls the word over in his mind, and it makes him think of the stories Claire might have told her son before tucking him into bed.
If only.
"There's nothing to be done, Jack," Claire tells him, as though she can sense what he is thinking. Truth is, most days she can.
This is different from the murderous and vengeful mother. This is sense talking. This is someone at ease -- someone who's had time to get used to the idea.
"I know," Jack says, even though he himself hasn't gotten used to it. The regret builds up behind his throat, choking him.
He coughs.
How could he have left her there?
--
Jack remembers the first time Claire kisses him.
She's counting scars, cool fingertips over hot skin one night. A ritual she began long ago. She rolls him over, pushing the fraying cotton shirt over his chest and back, taking silent inventory. She moves meticulously over his shoulders, belly, knees, the backs of his calves, even examines his scalp as best she can.
"Forty-three," she proclaims proudly, sliding off of him and to the pallet at his side.
"Is that all?" Jack asks, surprised.
"We can count again tomorrow," she tells him. "I'm tired now."
"And there will be more tomorrow," he promises, as he always does. It is simply the perils of living in the jungle.
"You're sure there are none that I missed?" Claire teases, a hand brushing over the last remaining fabric covering his body.
Jack catches her wrist, laughs, tells her no. He twines his fingers with hers for a moment, and then falls suddenly grave.
Claire catches the look, her blue eyes as clear as the first day they met.
"Maybe one more," he tells her slowly, moves their hands over his chest. "Here."
She kisses him then. Not on the mouth at first, but on the knuckles, and then the spot next to his heart, the one with the invisible scar, and then his lips, full and firm.
It is a decidedly un-sibling-like kiss, and when Claire's tongue brushes against his, Jack thinks he's been so long on this island that he simply can't be bothered to care anymore.
"Me too," she tells him, and Jack's not sure whether she's responding to his words or his thoughts.
Claire kisses him again, an answer.
It's both.
"Me too."
Re: jack/claire, doesn't mean i didn't get what i deserved
Date: 2010-03-25 05:59 am (UTC)Re: this house is sad because he's not in it
Date: 2010-03-25 06:00 am (UTC)It kinda gave me the warm fuzzies, in an odd way lol
I love the calmness and hopefulness in this - Claire being at ease, the 'magic' being gone. It makes them seem happy and I like that.
And that last bit about her counting scars, with the one on his heart, guh just lovely.
<33
Re: jack/claire, doesn't mean i didn't get what i deserved
Date: 2010-03-25 06:01 am (UTC)Re: this house is sad because he's not in it
Date: 2010-03-27 03:21 am (UTC)I'm glad they seem happy.
I want them to be happy.
Re: this house is sad because he's not in it
Date: 2010-03-27 03:42 am (UTC)Beautiful!
Re: this house is sad because he's not in it
Date: 2010-03-27 03:44 am (UTC)