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tigriswolfTitle: balancing on a razor's edge
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: spoilers for 6.2
Pairings: mentions of non-con slash
Rating: R
Wordcount: 135
Point of view: third
Prompt: Dean & Christian, Dean makes him sorry for his comments about Hell
Dean studies him, the next couple times Sam calls for help, watches this cousin he never knew about. Just a kid, really.
This kid would've shattered beneath Alistair, begged and pled and whimpered and sobbed and bled so so prettily—Dean can see it, playing across his eyelids, this kid broken, moaning and groaning, crying for Alistair to stop, for harder and sharper, please please please!
This kid who doesn't know, can't know, won't ever know because Alistair is dead.
Alistair is dead, yes, a tiny, broken, dark and bloody and damned part of Dean whispers, watching the kid, this breakable little boy that Sammy spilled secrets to; Alistair is dead, but his greatest pupil... well, razors are sharp, Dean, even out of Hell, so beautifully sharp, waiting for you to wield them again.
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Title: falling and flying
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: spoilers for season 5
Pairings: mentions of might-be Dean/Castiel
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 120
Point of view: third
Prompt: Any; Any; Just to feel alive
While they were separated, when Dean was in-between hunts, trying to heal a little bit, he went to the Grand Canyon because he'd never been there before and wanted to go.
He went in time for the sunrise, watched all the tourists, and just thought about life, about Hell, about destiny and regret and hope.
He thought about Mama and Daddy, about Sammy, Azazel, Alistair, Lilith, and Lucifer. About Michael and consent, about Castiel and what-if, might-have-been, could-be, should-be, and maybe…
He stared down into a giant hole in the ground, carved by time and water, and wondered, just for a moment, if being a vessel meant he'd have wings, and what would happen if he just…
Title: ships in the night
Fandom: White Collar/Supernatural
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: none
Pairings: maybe some implied Dean/Neal
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 175
Point of view: third
Prompt: Neal/Dean, never try to con a conman
Not many people have the strength of will or character to lie to Peter's face, and keep on lying after he catches on, eyes shining with the smirk he doesn't let twist his lips, but this guy, damn, he's good.
And maybe if Peter hadn't seen the grin he'd shared with Neal when he sauntered into the gallery, he'd have been fooled. Not for long, but he's honest enough with himself to admit that, yeah, this guy might have gotten past him.
Neal knows he's watching, and he's pretty sure Johnny Jones, out of the Houston office, knows, too, as they chat about what seems innocent, on the surface, but the surface means nothing with Neal, because even the shallows are rife with half-truths, bald-faced lies, and things that might be true, if bent, shaken, and stirred.
And the next morning, as Neal swears he knew nothing about any jobs in the works, everything was hypothetical, trust me, and, anyway, it was an ugly vase with a curse, Peter, Peter just rolls his eyes.
Title: pack, no matter what
Fandom: Batman
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: werewolf!AU
Pairings: pre-Jason Todd/Tim Drake
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 510
Point of view: third
Prompt: Jason/Tim, werewolves
Tim's wolf is still more of a pup, so Jason follows him covertly, sticking to the shadows more than usual.
The Joker's cackle echoes in the night, and Jason shudders, holding in a whimper, but Tim actually freezes in place, ears flicking around, trying to pinpoint the sound.
Bruce is helping Dick, a territory dispute that would have resulted in far more casualties without the Old Man's aid, which means Tim has no back-up coming except Jason.
Of course the Joker would pick tonight to escape, with the Old Man gone and the moon hanging ripe in the sky, full and shining bright.
Jason owes the Old Man, for all that he didn't kill the Joker when Jason died, and this pup, he's Bruce's newest stray. And he really is just a kid, younger even than Jason was, that last night.
The Joker cackles again, the next street over and moving fast. Tim hurries the other direction, frantically looking for a hiding spot, because while he is brave, he's not a fool. The Old Man is the only one who can even start to match the Joker in raw power.
It really is beautiful, when Bruce's huge black wolf and the Joker's spotted hyena fight, and Jason knows that Bruce has almost killed the Joker a few times. He always backs away, though, scared that even the first kill will be too much temptation and he'll go rabid. Like the Joker.
Jason doesn't have that problem. And Jason may not have reached his full strength yet, but that night will come, when the moon is full and the Joker arrogant, and Jason's jaws will latch onto the Joker's cackling throat, and Jason will rip him apart and lap up his blood, his muzzle painted glinting red.
Not tonight, though. Tim's just a pup and Jason needs to make sure he gets home, because the Joker will try to do to Tim what he did to Jason, and that can't be allowed. One fucked up pup is enough in the pack.
So Jason howls, diverting the Joker's attention, and Tim makes it out of the alley as the Joker trots into it.
The moon is full. Jason gleams a dark red, almost black, beneath it, and bares his fangs at the Joker. One night, not too long from now, he will kill this monster, but for now, he merely needs to distract the beast.
He snarls, lunging forward, and the Joker meets him, still cackling, and the Old Man will be pissed when he comes back to their territory.
The Joker's blood tastes wonderful, and Jason can barely wait until he's strong enough to rend and tear and destroy, and he scarcely feels the wounds slowing him down, and the Joker just keeps cackling, rabid and wild, and Jason knows he has to escape now or he won't be able to.
So he does, the Joker's mocking following him, but soon. The night will come.
For now, though, he needs to find Tim and make sure the pup gets home.
Title: first flight
Fandom: NCIS
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: shifter!AU; implied child abuse
Pairings: pre-Tony/McGee
Rating: PG
Point of view: third
Wordcount: 480
Prompt: Tony/Tim, Tony is a shifter and hasn't trusted anyone with his secret until Tim
It's not that he's ashamed, because he isn't, and it's not that he's afraid—well, maybe a little, since 'shifters are misunderstood more often than not. But Mama had made him swear to never tell anyone, and his father had beaten into him that normals would hate him, if it ever came to light.
Before tonight, he hadn't shifted in twenty years.
But Tim went missing. And Gibbs couldn't find him. Abby couldn't get a read on any of the evidence, and none of Ziva's numerous and shady contacts had a lead, either.
And even though they weren't mated yet, no matter how much Tony wished they were, he knew that if he shifted, he'd be able to locate Tim.
But just to err on the side of caution, he didn't tell anyone that's what he was doing tonight. Gibbs ordered them to go home for a few hours of rest, and instead, Tony went to Tim's last known location, made sure no one was around, and shifted. It was a relief when his wings stretched fully out, and he examined his new body, oddly familiar and yet so different from the one he's worn without fail for twenty years.
He's much bigger than he remembered, but that is the difference between a fledgling and a fully grown golden eagle.
Mama had tried to explain all the intricacies of 'shifter life, but Tony was young and she was drunk half the time, and all he needs to know right now is that 'shifters can sense their mates from up to fifty miles. Tony focuses on Tim, and there. To the south.
Tony takes to the air, awkwardly at first, but he's always learned quickly. His gun barely weighs him down, gripped tightly in his talons. Tim's being kept in some random house, and Tony lands in the backyard. He swiftly spots a yorkie in the shadows; he expects the dog to start yapping, to alert the house that something is lurking, but the dog whines and backs closer to the fence.
He wishes for a moment that birds could smirk. Most animals fear 'shifters, even in their human form. Good. The eagle in him wants to attack, to feed on the dog, but the man in him says they don't have the time.
Tim needs him. So Tony shifts back, clutches his gun tight, checking to make sure the flight hasn't damaged it, and goes to save his mate.
(Later, there will be yelling and explanations and assurances. Later, Tim will listen and ask questions and promise that Agent Tommy won't come out as a canine shifter, even if it'd make an awesome plot twist. And later, Tim will go with Tony to a protected land far from any recording devices or prying eyes, and watch in wonder as a large golden eagle spreads his wings and plunges into the sky.)