♥ Comment Fic by Katya ♥ Give me a fandom, a pairing or character, and a prompt, and I will write you comment fic. No rules or restrictions on requests, though I reserve the right to make it gen if I can't write something shippy.
Kingdom Hearts, Axel/Roxas, "Canine Shenanigans"snarky_katSeptember 30 2009, 07:02:17 UTC
"Man, this is going to be awesome. Hand me the paint, would you?"
Roxas quirks an eyebrow, but silently passes the tin over. Axel balances it carefully on the ledge, gathering some on his brush before carefully writing out the letters.
"He might actually kill you for this, you know. This isn't like the time you left that cat in his room."
"Hey, he got a free meal out of it. I don't know why he was complaining."
"I'm not going down with you."
"No, but you'll go down on -- OW!"
Roxas shrugs as the keyblade disappears back to wherever it hides when he hasn't summoned it. Axel rubs his head, glaring, white paint dripping all down the back of his neck.
"Where'd you put the ribbon?"
---
Saix fumes. That insolent, snot nosed little match stick has gone too far. Closing his eyes, he wishes away the sight before him, but when he dares to peek, it's still there. Mocking him.
Where his bed should be, in a universe without XIII, there sits a freshly painted doghouse with his name in cheerful letters on the front.
Supernatural, Dean/Castiel, "Pie Hole"snarky_katSeptember 30 2009, 07:13:00 UTC
Dean's first clue this was a dream was the pie.
The pie was warm, fresh, and perfectly flaky. The flavors kept changing, the pastry kept replenishing itself, and he couldn't seem to make his stomach get to full.
Of course, the second clue was Castiel, laying on his stomach, perfectly content reading Anne Rice as pie was eaten off the small of his back, but.
Merlin, Arthur/Merlin, "The Intricacies of High School"snarky_katSeptember 30 2009, 22:02:06 UTC
He was being watched.
This wasn't anything new for Merlin. He was used to having all eyes focused his way. Being the star of the track team tended to make a person stand out, and having the most attractive girl in school hanging on your arm didn't hurt either.
But this was different. The Pendragon boy, with his large glasses and notably tyrant father, looked at him like.
Like he was the one out of place. Like he was the unusual one. It drove him mad, an itch in his spine he couldn't seem to scratch.
Merlin had considered confronting the kid. He'd demand to know what his problem was, maybe put him in his place like he was so obviously begging for. But he always came up with a plausible reason why he shouldn't. It wasn't that he didn't want to, because gods, he did, he really did. Ached for the confrontation, like a moth drawn to a flame.
At night, he dreamt. He dreamt of monsters and magic and lands far away and looming castles and red. There was always so much red.
Supernatural, Dean/Castiel, "Friendship"snarky_katOctober 2 2009, 08:38:27 UTC
They move around a lot. The life of a hunter, Dad tells him. Sammy's too young to understand why, but he's a smart kid, he'll figure it out soon.
Dean though, he knows. He remembers. It's fuzzy, hazed over with smoke and fire and heat, but he remembers. Something killed his Mom, and someday, Dad's gonna get it.
He thinks, sometimes though, it would be nice to have a friend. Being the new kid really sucks all the time.
He's introduced to his new class by his pretty teacher, Miss Markson. New school, new town, new hunt. Same old story. Dean's ready with a funny story about how his Dad wrestles alligators for a living, just in case anyone asks. They rarely do, but it never hurts to think ahead. That's what Dad says.
The boy he's sitting next to is small, gangly, with dark hair and weird golden colored eyes. He doesn't blink, moves only when he needs to do something. Dean can't process that. He's always fidgeting, always twisting around, always go go go
( ... )
I challenge you to write not-slash Butch and V; if you need to pull in Jane or Marissa to do it, cool, but it doesn't have to be shippy; brothery hangout time is awesome. Bonus points if V is overtly brilliant.
Comments 15
Oh god, KH:358/2 Days is so shippy. SO SHIPPY! *dies of slashing overload*
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Roxas quirks an eyebrow, but silently passes the tin over. Axel balances it carefully on the ledge, gathering some on his brush before carefully writing out the letters.
"He might actually kill you for this, you know. This isn't like the time you left that cat in his room."
"Hey, he got a free meal out of it. I don't know why he was complaining."
"I'm not going down with you."
"No, but you'll go down on -- OW!"
Roxas shrugs as the keyblade disappears back to wherever it hides when he hasn't summoned it. Axel rubs his head, glaring, white paint dripping all down the back of his neck.
"Where'd you put the ribbon?"
---
Saix fumes. That insolent, snot nosed little match stick has gone too far. Closing his eyes, he wishes away the sight before him, but when he dares to peek, it's still there. Mocking him.
Where his bed should be, in a universe without XIII, there sits a freshly painted doghouse with his name in cheerful letters on the front.
The bow is red"I CAN ( ... )
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Pie.
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The pie was warm, fresh, and perfectly flaky. The flavors kept changing, the pastry kept replenishing itself, and he couldn't seem to make his stomach get to full.
Of course, the second clue was Castiel, laying on his stomach, perfectly content reading Anne Rice as pie was eaten off the small of his back, but.
Well. That wasn't anything new.
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Ilu Kat. ♥
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This wasn't anything new for Merlin. He was used to having all eyes focused his way. Being the star of the track team tended to make a person stand out, and having the most attractive girl in school hanging on your arm didn't hurt either.
But this was different. The Pendragon boy, with his large glasses and notably tyrant father, looked at him like.
Like he was the one out of place. Like he was the unusual one. It drove him mad, an itch in his spine he couldn't seem to scratch.
Merlin had considered confronting the kid. He'd demand to know what his problem was, maybe put him in his place like he was so obviously begging for. But he always came up with a plausible reason why he shouldn't. It wasn't that he didn't want to, because gods, he did, he really did. Ached for the confrontation, like a moth drawn to a flame.
At night, he dreamt. He dreamt of monsters and magic and lands far away and looming castles and red. There was always so much red.
And Arthur Pendragon continued to watch.
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Dean though, he knows. He remembers. It's fuzzy, hazed over with smoke and fire and heat, but he remembers. Something killed his Mom, and someday, Dad's gonna get it.
He thinks, sometimes though, it would be nice to have a friend. Being the new kid really sucks all the time.
He's introduced to his new class by his pretty teacher, Miss Markson. New school, new town, new hunt. Same old story. Dean's ready with a funny story about how his Dad wrestles alligators for a living, just in case anyone asks. They rarely do, but it never hurts to think ahead. That's what Dad says.
The boy he's sitting next to is small, gangly, with dark hair and weird golden colored eyes. He doesn't blink, moves only when he needs to do something. Dean can't process that. He's always fidgeting, always twisting around, always go go go ( ... )
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And: go. :D
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