moragmacpherson: (delirium)
moragmacpherson ([personal profile] moragmacpherson) wrote2012-02-08 09:18 pm

Self-cest Comment-Fic Meme


Many thanks to [personal profile] thecookiemomma  for this lovely banner

This is a multi-fandom comment-fic meme based on the following exchange:

Callowyn: to me, there is no such thing as a crack pairing.
Morag: Would you ship Arthur from Inception with Tom from 500 Days of Summer?
Callowyn: dude, I invented a verse solely for reasons of misha kissing misha. I WOULD SHIP ANYONE WITH THEMSELVES. AND YOU CAN QUOTE ME ON THAT.
Morag: Challenge accepted.

And there’s so much to work with! How many times have characters canonically met their past selves, or alternate reality versions of themselves, or an evil doppelganger, or even run across the actors that play them? How many crossovers have you read where someone meets their look-alike from another universe? Think of the classic Buffy episode The Replacements, in which Riley Finn says of two Xanders: "Doesn't it make everyone wanna lock them in separate rooms and do experiments on them?"

Fuck that shit, let's see what happens when they're locked in a room together! Maybe they'll have sex? Awesome. We all love imagining pretty faces making out with each other. Now it’s time to imagine pretty faces making out with themselves!

Rules:

  1. All fandoms welcome! Both RPF and Fanfiction are fair game. And yes, this is an invitation for someone to write Brit Marling/Rhoda Williams (Another Earth).
  2. Threesomes and more-somes are more than welcome, provided that at least TWO participants have the same face. You may have Arthur (Inception)/Tom (500 Days of Summer)/Zooey Deschanel. You may have Eames (Inception)/Tom Hardy/Handsome Bob (Rocknrolla). You may NOT have Eames/Joseph Gordon Levitt—at least, not in this meme.
  3. For fictional characters, you may prompt different ages of the same character, even if that character was played by a different actor onscreen. For example, Dean Winchester as played by Brock Kelly can be shipped with Dean Winchester as played by Jensen Ackles. However, you may NOT prompt Brock!Dean/Tom Hanniger (played by Jensen). If the face doesn’t match, the character must be the same.
  4. This is a kink-friendly meme: both YKINMK (Your Kink is Not My Kink) and YSINMS (Your Squick is Not My Squick) apply. Please respect both, and use thread titles to warn and avoid as needed.
  5. Re: Underage — I'm sorry this is an issue, and remember, that which is condoned in fiction has NOTHING to do with what is condoned in reality — but if an ACTOR is currently underage, then writing RPF about that person is off limits. You may have Sam Winchester (age 15)/Sam Winchester (age 24), because Sam Winchester is a fictional character. You may NOT have Colin Ford/Sam Winchester, because Colin Ford is a real person under the age of seventeen. Please be considerate when warning. If you need clarification, feel free to private message me.
  6. Wheaton's Law rules: DON'T BE A DICK. Otherwise angry nerds in ugly clown sweaters will storm your house and possibly attack you with photon torpedoes.




Prompts should list the pairing (including fandoms) in the subject line and the details of the prompt in a comment. Please add “Fill” to the subject line when answering a prompt, as well as any relevant warnings (including changing the warnings for later parts, if necessary). Do try to keep a reasonable proportion of your fills/prompts; i.e. if you leave five prompts, it's time to think about putting in a fill before you make another prompt. Remember: don't be a dick!


Unless it becomes an issue,  anon commenting is ON and IP logging is OFF.  I'm hoping this doesn't become an issue.  I hate being Authority, because then I have to rebel against myself.

ETA: An excellent question about the eligibility of voice actor pairings was raised by black_sluggard. [Link to Thread] See the linked thread for details, but the tl;dr is: if you're unsure, ask, and there will be a case by case decision following the procedures I outlined in my reply.

So go forth and have fun!

List of Fills
(listed in order of posting for now, until I figure out a better method - by character or fandom or something, I'm not sure yet)

Hooked by [personal profile] moragmacpherson  - Jimmy Novak (SPN)/Jacob Glaser (Stonehenge Apocalypse); Novakcest, marking, mild blood play. (Explicit)
Untitled by [personal profile] metonomia - Rhoda Williams/Herself (Another Earth); no warnings but contains some spoilers (Teen or Mature)
Let the Right One In by [personal profile] moragmacpherson  - Robo!Sam/BoyKing!Sam (SPN); rough sex, mild breathplay, power play, violence (Explicit)
Similarities and Differences by [personal profile] thecookiemomma  - Tenth Doctor (Doctor Who)/Barty Crouch Jr. (Harry Potter); oral sex, (Explicit)
Untitled by [personal profile] joelthecat (posted as anonymous) - Vala Mal Doran (SG-1)/Aeryn Sun (Farscape); frottage (Mature)
In Which There Are Two Jensens by [personal profile] orchidfire  - Dean Winchester (SPN)/Boaz Priestly (Ten Inch Hero); oral sex, tattoo and piercing kink (Explicit)
Untitled by [personal profile] joelthecat  - Donna Noble (Doctor Who)/Lauren Cooper (The Catherine Tate Show); no warnings (General Audiences)
Alabaster by [personal profile] orchidfire  - Bellatrix Lestrange (Harry Potter) / Marla Singer (Fight Club); Violence, rape/non-con, object-insertion, torture, humiliation, hate sex, power imbalance, racism, misogyny, choking/breathplay (EXPLICIT)
Believe by [personal profile] orchidfire - Jimmy Novak (SPN)/Jacob Glaser (Stonehenge Apocalypse) (non-Novakcest); no warnings (General Audiences)
Close Encounters of the Fourth-Dimensional Kind by [personal profile] orchidfire - Trueform!Castiel/Trueform!Castiel (SPN); no warnings (General Audiences)
in these silences something may rise by [personal profile] knightblazer - Jimmy Novak (SPN)/Jacob Glaser (Stonehenge Apocalypse); Novakcest, hand-kink (MATURE)
At the Double Palm by [personal profile] joelthecat - Daniel Jackson (Stargate SG-1)/Jimmy (Sanctuary); oral sex (Mature)
Untitled by Anonymous - Laura Roslin(Battlestar Galactica 2003)/Sharon Raydor(The Closer); oral sex (Explicit)
No Time Like the Present by Anonymous - Eduardo Saverin (The Social Network)/Frank (Doctor Who); no warnings (General Audiences)

callowyn: (Default)

Rhoda Williams (Another Earth)/herself [SPOILERS]

[personal profile] callowyn 2012-02-09 06:09 am (UTC)(link)
[SPOILERS]


The other Rhoda went to MIT. That doesn't mean she had a better life.
metonomia: (Default)

Re: Rhoda Williams (Another Earth)/herself [SPOILERS]

[personal profile] metonomia 2012-02-10 04:17 am (UTC)(link)
She saw some of the professor's stuff on tv, sometimes. Late night, a smoke, a bottle of something, and Dr. Burroughs' compositions unwinding their way through her head. Music like this always turns to numbers in her head. She can see how he stitched it all together easier than he probably can, notes and chords and inexplicable alien cries haunting their way from ears to eyes. She learns to speak music. Sometimes to test herself she stumbles back to her room half-blind with the physics of decadence and turns on the tivo and writes out what she hears, draws equations, converts them to poetry, then scrawls them back into sheet music and finds someone on campus to play it back for her.

She's always gotten it, and that terrifies her.

She has no limits.

Four years like this, that second Earth and more and more wildly theoretical physics by day, more and more wildly theoretical drugs by night. She doesn't break, she doesn't fail. Dr. Glaser gets her an internship with the privately funded group making the fastest strides with the two Earths. She buys an apartment.

It's all vodka and pills and work for a year, and she can't shake the feeling of being secondhand, faint, grasping at a self pulling away from her, out of orbit and into the core of that other Earth.

Then Dr. Burroughs knocks on her door. He's all wrong, but the music is right, and he tells her things about herself that are so terrifying they must be true.

Then Rhoda. Rhoda with her sharp bones, her thinness from manual labor, not toxins. Her hair eyes hands full of pain, different pain, the right pain. This Rhoda destroys others, not herself. This Rhoda is herself. They will hurt each other, Rhoda thinks. They will be alright.

[[omg i'm sorry there's not Brit Marling making out with herself. It's implied right??]]
callowyn: (jimmy is tragic)

Jimmy Novak (SPN)/Jacob Glaser (Stonehenge Apocalypse)

[personal profile] callowyn 2012-02-09 06:23 am (UTC)(link)
(Novakcest verse. Rough sex, bloodplay if you want to take it that far.)

Every scar the twins get makes them a little less symmetrical. Guess they'll just have to put matching marks on each other.
callowyn: (wot larks)

Tenth Doctor (DW)/Hamlet

[personal profile] callowyn 2012-02-09 06:34 am (UTC)(link)
Wow, and the Doctor thought he talked a lot.
thegeminisage: (Default)

5. Prompt: Dean Winchester (Supernatural) / Boaz Priestly (Ten Inch Hero)

[personal profile] thegeminisage 2012-02-09 06:52 am (UTC)(link)
I would like Dean to secretly have tattoo/piercing kinks and be his fanboy self (like with Dr Sexy etc <3)
orchidfire: White flowers with "poesía... eres tú" caption. (Default)

FILL: “In which there are two Jensen Ackles” | NC-17 | Dean Winchester (SPN) / Boaz Priestly (TI

[personal profile] orchidfire 2012-02-11 04:48 am (UTC)(link)
Note: The second half is porny, of the tattoos & piercings (obviously), public sex, oral sex, and swallowing variety. I’ve been wanting to write a tattoo/piercing kink prompt, so thank you for this. :)

Mirrors: AO3, LJ


In which there are two Jensen Ackles

This latest case takes them to the West Coast. Santa Cruz. Dean wants to gag; there are too many goddamn hippie shops around, and he's seeing the word “vegan” a little too much for his comfort.

“Hey, Santa Cruz is pretty nice,” Sam says. A small smile plays across his lips. “We used to come down here every now and then. When we wanted to go to the beach. Hour’s drive, but it was worth it.”

“Yeah whatever, just keep your fruits and nuts in your goddamn granola,” Dean mutters, and Sam shuts up. They’re close to the UC Santa Cruz campus, and Dean really doesn’t need any more reminders about how Sam fucking abandoned his family to be a goddamn nerd. He shrugs and stretches his neck. “C’mon, where can we get some real food around here?”

“Would it kill you to eat something healthy every now and then?” Sam says, pausing before a restaurant. “Some of these look pretty good.”

“Hey, if God wanted people to eat healthy, He wouldn’t have put Paula Deen on the Food Network,” Dean says. There has got to be something

Dean stops. Finally. A sub shop. Probably won’t be as good as a greasy burger, but it’s good enough for now, and definitely beats the other restaurants flanking the shop.

The bell over the door jingles when Dean walks in, Sam trailing behind him. The girl working the counter looks straight at him, one eyebrow cocked, and Dean lets out a low whistle as Sam rolls his eyes.

“Hey there,” the girl says, her voice soft, breathy. “What can I get for you today?”

Her eyes flick over Dean, and then over Sam. Oh Hell no; Sammy’s not getting in on this.

Dean rests an elbow on the counter and flashes the girl his most charming smile. She’s wearing a low-cut top and the shortest shorts he’s ever seen. Damn. If there’s one thing the West Coast gets right, it’s definitely the babes.

“I’ll have a roast beef sub,” Dean says.

“And do you want the five-inch, or...” the girl says, then pauses. She bites her lip and shakes out her hair; it brushes against the small of her back, and Dean traces the line of her shoulder. Damn. “...the ten-inch?”

Sam lets out a Jesus-fucking-Christ-I’m-going-to-vomit-in-my-mouth sigh, but Dean ignores him. He’s gonna get some tonight for fucking sure.

Dean leans in closer and winks. “Ten inch.”

“It’s a trap, bro.”

Dean looks up, tongue ready with some kind of retort, but he freezes.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He has to keep his cool. Sam doesn’t know, and he’s about to score here—except he’s not even interested in the chick anymore. It’s like someone capped a jar over her and all that flaming hotness suddenly went out. No. He’s gotta maintain this front, can’t give himself away.

But—goddamn. The guy working the grill is a fucking piece of art. He shouldn’t find him attractive—but he does, and that attraction is overwhelming.

For all the big, bad hunter he is, for all the injuries and stabs and wounds he’s taken, he’s never had the balls to get pierced, or to get tattooed. Because needles suck, and he’s not going to subject himself to that voluntarily. But on others? Yes, god yes. This guy—a tattoo crawls up his neck, emphasizing that curve, those muscles. Dean’s eyes flit over to his face, past those ridiculous (and yet oddly attractive) sideburns, and land on the jewelry beneath his lower lip, and, oh, those lips

“Six fifty.”

Dean tears his eyes away. Right. Food. Paying for food. He fumbles for his wallet and flashes a haphazard smile at the girl before handing her a ten.

“Sorry,” he says, then sneaks a glance over at the guy again. Damn, he can even rock a nostril piercing. Usually looks dorky on guys, but this dude...

Grill guy turns around and meets Dean’s gaze, and Dean feels like he’s died on the spot. His knees feel weak. Dude’s got the most brilliant green eyes ever, and the eyeliner around them only serves to emphasize that. Damn, he’s hot even when he’s flashing Dean that sneer. Or maybe that’s why he’s hot. Either way—

Grill guy tosses his spatula into the air and catches it.

“What, you never seen a guy with extra holes through his head?” he says.

Dean lets out a little breathy laugh, then mentally kicks himself. Keep your cool. Keep your cool. “’Course I have.”

“Didn’t your momma tell you not to stare? It’s rude.”

“My mom’s dead, jerk,” Dean says, flashing him a sarcastic grin. The others look up with a jolt, as if waiting for the punchline. Dean’s heart beats wildly against his ribs. Part of him finds their shocked expressions hilarious, and part of him kicks himself for possibly killing whatever chance he might have with punk dude.

Except—wait, no, he doesn’t want to have a “chance” with punk dude, except, well, he does

“Yeah, well, so’s mine,” grill guy says, winking at Dean, and Dean might just need a new change of pants. “Watch who you’re calling a jerk, jerk.”

“Priestly, stop scaring away our customers,” the blonde behind the computer says. Dean cocks an eyebrow.

“Priestly? The hell kind of name is that?”

Priestly frowns and turns back to the grill, scowling.

“Three fifty’s your change,” the counter girl says, her smile a little forced. Dean nods and pockets the change. Sam elbows him and elicits a yelp from Dean.

“Do you have to be such a dick all the time?” he hisses, and Dean shrugs.

“Whatever,” he says. He slides into a counter seat. Maybe if he puts on an angry enough face, he can pretend he’s glaring at Priestly instead of totally checking him out.


That roast beef sub might possibly have been the most delicious sandwich Dean’s ever had, but that’s not really why he’s back here hanging out like a creep in the alley by the sub shop at closing time, is it?

He gulps.

That older guy—the owner?—leaves. Dean steps out from the alley once he’s gone. He’s really, really not sure why he’s doing this, why he feels such a strong urge—a need—to see that guy again. Maybe he can make some sort of excuse. Play tough and say that he was out for some late-night munchies and wanted to grab another sub, because hey, that’s not too far from the truth.

The door closes with a jingle. Priestly twists the key and locks the door.

“Closed?” Dean says. He walks up to him, acting as nonchalant as he can, even though he can feel his fingers tingling and his cheeks burning. Thank God it’s dark.

“Yep. Sorry,” Priestly says as he straightens up and pockets the key. He eyes Dean, and Dean wants to take a step back, but he holds his ground. Priestly rolls his eyes. “Look, if you’re looking to get some with Tish, she’s already left, and she’s already found some other tool. You’re not any kind of special.”

“I don’t want to—” Dean says, then frowns, the words caught in his throat. Fuck, he has no problem telling women that he wants to fuck them, and hard, but with guys, it’s always been more difficult. He’s come to terms with the fact that, yeah, he wants to and occasionally does bang guys, but that doesn’t make this any easier.

Priestly glares daggers at Dean. God, he sucks at this.

“Look,” he says, advancing on Dean and jabbing a finger at Dean’s chest. “I’m tired of macho dicks like you giving me crap because of the way I look. So I look a little different; so fucking what. I don’t give you shit; don’t give me any shit.”

“Calm your fucking tits,” Dean spits. Priestly’s all up in his personal space now. Dean hopes and prays to whatever might be running this thing that Priestly doesn’t look down, because Dean’s pants have suddenly gotten very, very tight.

Dean takes a breath, and then the words tumble out of him before he can stop them.

“I’m not fucking judging you. In fact, I think you’re fucking hot as hell, okay?”

Priestly narrows his eyes.

“Look, asshole, if this is some kind of joke—” Priestly lets out a little snort. “I’m really not in the mood to put up with this kind of crap.”

But his words trail off, and his breaths come out a little more shallow. They’re the exact same height. Dean stares into Priestly’s eyes; they catch spots of light even in the darkness, the green laid over with a wash of blue night.

“You’re not joking,” Priestly says after a moment.

“I never joke about who I want to fuck,” Dean says, smirking. A moment passes between them.

Fuck it, Dean thinks, then pulls Priestly into the alley. He slams Priestly up against the wall and kisses him. Normally he’d give a fuck about doing this in public, but it’s dark, and everywhere’s closed; no one’s going to see.

Dean runs his tongue along Priestly’s lower lip and then deepens the kiss. Priestly stiffens for a moment, then relaxes into Dean, letting his lips part; his own tongue darts out, and Dean trembles as the smooth metal of Priestly’s tongue barbell runs along his own tongue. Dean runs his hands down Priestly’s sides, and he smirks against Priestly’s lips as Priestly shivers.

He pulls away from Priestly, his eyes half-lidded.

“What else do you have pierced?” he murmurs, and Priestly smirks back at him.

“I’ll let you find out,” he says, his voice low, soft. Dean laughs and nips at Priestly’s neck, savoring Priestly’s sharp intake of breath.

“All right,” Dean says. He pulls Priestly further into the alley, shrouding them both with a deeper darkness. He snakes a hand up Priestly’s shirt, tugging it up to reveal a naked navel; he presses a finger against each of Priestly’s ribs, then traces his hand down between Priestly’s pecs. He spreads his palm out under the muscle, then touches up and brushes a thumb against Priestly’s nipple, grinning as he feels steel balls on either side. He gives Priestly’s nipple a little pinch, and Priestly throws his head back.

“There’s one,” Priestly says. Dean slips his other hand under Priestly’s shirt and brushes against the other nipple, finding another barbell; he rolls Priestly’s nipples between his fingers, and Priestly bites his lip.

“Two,” Dean murmurs.

“There’s more,” Priestly says, looking down and cocking an eyebrow at Dean. “And a little bit of art for you too.”

Hands trembling, Dean tugs Priestly’s shirt up. The tattoo on his neck extends down to his chest, a swirl of black curves and shapes that twists and follows the lines of his chest, ending in a flourish beneath his ribs.

Fuck,” Dean whispers. He sees another twist of black emerging from Priestly’s waistband, opposite the chest and neck piece. Dean lets Priestly’s shirt fall, then gets on his knees and undoes Priestly’s belt, unbuttons his jeans and tugs down Priestly’s zipper. He lets Priestly’s pants fall to the ground; his briefs hang low on his hips. A blackwork scorpion curves around Priestly’s hip, tail poised up Priestly’s side, its body hugging the bone of Priestly’s pelvis, its claws out.

Dean glances up. Priestly’s looking down at him, a grin on his face, clearly pleased with Dean’s attention.

Dean smiles and hooks both thumbs underneath Priestly’s waistband.

“Got any surprises here?”

“Wanna find out?”

“Fuck yeah I want to find out.”

He pulls down Priestly’s briefs, and Priestly’s cock pops free. Dean’s heart skips a beat. He counts a Prince Albert and three frenum piercings. Priestly reaches down and runs his hand through Dean’s hair.

“Well? You like?”

Dean doesn’t say anything in response—only runs his tongue in one long stroke along the underside of Priestly’s cock, savoring the bump of the barbells, the chill of the steel gone cold in the night air. He pauses and swirls his tongue over the tip of Priestly’s cock, flicks at the ring before going down on Priestly.

Priestly tugs gently at Dean’s hair. Dean keeps his rhythm slow at first, coaxing little sighs out of Priestly as he does; Priestly ruts gently at Dean, and Dean shivers as the barbells run along his tongue, push past his lips. He glances up at Priestly, watches as Priestly’s mouth opens in a quiet moan; the streetlight glints off his earrings.

Dean brings a hand up and grips Priestly’s cock, savors how hard it is; he picks up the pace, his strokes getting faster and shorter. His hand moves together with his mouth; he braces himself with his other hand, his fingers digging into Priestly’s thigh. Priestly releases Dean’s hair, his hands wandering up to twist at his nipples. He thrusts harder at Dean.

“Fuck,” Priestly breathes. “Your name. Tell me your name.”

Dean pulls back from Priestly’s cock, keeping his lips tight until the head slides out.

“Dean,” he says, grinning up at him. Priestly threads his fingers through Dean’s hair again and pulls him back toward his cock. Dean obliges and takes Priestly in again; Priestly grinds against him, his head falling to the side, exposing his tattoo, and Dean can feel his own cock twitching.

“Dean,” Priestly moans. “Dean. Dean. Fuck.”

Bolts of pleasure shoot through Dean. He flicks his tongue at the jewelry, pauses a fraction of a second to linger over Priestly’s frenulum; he takes Priestly in deeper, squeezes harder with his hand. He can feel Priestly’s thigh tensing, his grip on his hair getting harder and more urgent.

Dean strokes back up, this time lingering on the tip of Priestly’s cock. He loops his tongue around the ring there and tugs gently as he suckles at the head; Priestly quakes, and a soft, throaty ah escapes past his lips.

“You like that?” Dean says, keeping the ring between his teeth. He pulls gently and keeps sucking; Priestly bites his lip and lets out a soft, whimpering moan that practically undoes Dean. Priestly presses the back of his head against the wall behind him, his chest rising and falling with his breaths, before he looks back down, his eyes half-lidded and glazed over with lust.

“Yeah,” Priestly says, his voice coming out barely above a whisper. Dean dares to tug a little harder, and the shudder that runs down Priestly from head to toe tells him it wasn’t too much.

“Good,” Dean says, and a surge of confidence, of power runs through him. He’s the one kneeling, like some kind of devotee worshipping a god, but ultimately, he has control over Priestly—can bring him pleasure, can take it away at his whim.

“Don’t stop,” Priestly says, his voice thin, pleading, and Dean grins. He gets back to it—licks, sucks; tugs, squeezes. He builds the pace up faster, harder, more urgent.

Dean.

Priestly bends over slightly, his jaw clenched, his breaths shallow to the point where he stops breathing entirely.

“I’m gonna come.”

Dean hums a response against Priestly’s cock, and that’s enough to send him over the edge—Priestly yanks Dean’s hair, drives himself deep into Dean, and releases white-hot against Dean’s tongue. His body jerks a couple more times before he falls still, his breaths heavy.

Dean pulls away from Priestly and swallows, his tongue darting out to lick the last couple of drops leaking from the tip.

Priestly lets out a laugh.

“That was amazing.”

Dean comes up and cups Priestly’s face in his hands. He kisses him, more softly this time, lets Priestly taste himself on Dean’s tongue. Dean pulls away and smiles.

“Wanna show me what you can do with that tongue?”

“And everything else, jerk,” Priestly says, then winks. “C’mon. My place.”
Edited (lost 400 words because I messed up an HTML tag -__-) 2012-02-11 06:53 (UTC)
screamqueen: (Default)

Prompt: Dean Winchester (SPN)/ Tom Hanniger (My Bloody Valentine)

[personal profile] screamqueen 2012-02-09 07:09 am (UTC)(link)
Dean's shadow has a name.

SPN: Robosam/BoyKing!Sam

(Anonymous) 2012-02-09 07:25 am (UTC)(link)
Robosam is in Sam's brain hunting down the other Sams when he meets the one with yellow eyes. BoyKing Sammy pins him with his powers, and discovers they both like it more than they expected. Maybe Robosam breaks free by mixing exorcisms with dirty talk, maybe BoyKing Sam just loses control when the sex happens, but this is how Robosam finds out that fucking is just effective for getting rid of other Sams as killing... and more fun, too.
skullage: (Default)

Dean Winchester (Spn)/Castiel!Dean Winchester (Novakcest)

[personal profile] skullage 2012-02-09 08:21 am (UTC)(link)
Wherein Dean is taken to a dimension where he meets Castiel, who is wearing Dean's alternate self as a vessel.
thecookiemomma: (Default)

Daniel Jackson (SG) / Remiel (Andromeda)

[personal profile] thecookiemomma 2012-02-09 08:26 am (UTC)(link)
I need to understand.
thecookiemomma: (Default)

Captain Hammer (Dr. Horrible) / Malcom Reynolds (Firefly)

[personal profile] thecookiemomma 2012-02-09 08:28 am (UTC)(link)
The Hammer wielded (or tamed).
thecookiemomma: (Default)

Vala Mal Doran (SG) / Aeryn Sun (Farscape)

[personal profile] thecookiemomma 2012-02-09 08:32 am (UTC)(link)
"Well, aren't you a good looking woman?" Feel free to include John and or Cam in the mix somehow,too, if the muse demands.

Re: Vala Mal Doran (SG) / Aeryn Sun (Farscape)

(Anonymous) 2012-02-10 11:47 pm (UTC)(link)
"Well, aren't you a good looking woman?"

Aeryn turned and found a duplicate of herself in the corner, except that the other was wearing an electric purple dress that sparkled all the way to the floor, while Aeryn wore plain black satin.

"The Peacekeepers cloned me?" she said. "Have they lost their collective mind?"

"Probably more complicated than that," said the other. "Vala Mal Doran," she said, extending her hand. "I'm with the Tauri."

"Aeryn Sun, Pea... adventurer."

"So, adventurer, are you in the sign-up-to-resist-the-proctors camp, or with the other useless shite at this sad excuse for a conference?"

"Don't think we've decided," said Aeryn. "Probably neutral."

"You can't be neutral in this war, pet."

"One of us on each side would cancel out to neutral."

"Not really."

"Want to explain?" Aeryn asked.

"Why don't you come up to my room and I'll show you," Vala said.

"That's hardly an originally line."

"Does it need to be? Come on, then. Are you really accomplishing anything here? Aren't you the least bit curious?"

Curious, Aeryn certainly was. She followed the copy of herself up an elevator to a private chamber. Vala flopped down on the bed.

"Come on," she said.

"Don't waste any time, do you?" said Aeryn.

"No time to waste." Vala grabbed her by the wrists and pulled, and Aeryn allowed herself to fall down on the bed. Then she squealed as Vala's fingers homed in on her most ticklish spot.

"How did you know...?" Aeryn gasped.

"I'm ticklish there, too." The woman found another target, and Aeryn almost screamed.

"You really are me," said Aeryn.

"Probably not exactly," said Vala, "but close enough for tickle tantrums. Wonder if we have the same sensitivities in other places?"

"Well," said Aeryn, "I rather like this."

"Ooh, nice. And someone I used to know did this."

Aeryn squealed again, then laughed as Vala peeled away her black dress, finding something to tickle at each step along the way. When she was done she brushed Aeryn's hair away from her face and kissed her.

"You're wearing too much," Aeryn said when she could breath again.

Vala stood up and wriggled, and the dress fell to the floor. She did not seem to be wearing anything under it, and when she came back to bed Aeryn reached for the parts that were so enticingly revealed.

"Good," said Vala.

"Perfect," said Aeryn. They twined their legs together and let their bodies find a rhythm that seemed to be the same for both.

Much later, they awoke still entwined when the door opened and the light came on.

"Vala," said a tall man with glasses, "I need... oh, my God!"

"Daniel," Vala said, "this is...."

"Uh-uh! Don't want to know! One of you is bad enough!" He stepped back and closed the door, and the women collapsed into giggles.
skullage: (Default)

Jimmy Novak (Spn)/Jacob Glaser (Stonehenge Apocalypse)

[personal profile] skullage 2012-02-09 08:33 am (UTC)(link)
Jimmy likes to cook. Jacob likes to watch Jimmy cook. Kitchen!smut ensues.
knightblazer: EX Emerald // Grovyle (preying hunter)

FILL: in these silences something may rise (R, Novakcest)

[personal profile] knightblazer 2012-02-14 10:44 am (UTC)(link)
Writing this seriously does not help the fact that I am starving for food right about now. Priorities.


Its the hands that always get Jacob at the end.

Call it a fascination if you want, but nothing intrigues Jacob more than to see the way Jimmy uses his hands every time when his brother goes around to make their dinner. It's a terribly domestic affair - one that Jacob still isn't used to, even after all this time - but the headache that it gives to Jacob is all worth it when he gets to see his brother's hands in action. They're hands which have held guns and knives and all sorts of other weapons that Jacob can't remember now, hands which are supposed to be like his own but now only stand as far too different in Jacob's eyes.

It's times like these when Jacob can't help but slide up right behind his brother, reaching out to grasp one of Jimmy's hands in his own. He brings it up close to his eyes, studying the various calluses and scars that dot across Jimmy's palms and fingers. These are hands that have held blood and fire, every mark on the skin telling yet another story that Jacob may or may not know about.

Jimmy remains quiet, although Jacob can still sense his brother's mild annoyance over being disturbed so abruptly. Jacob lets out a small smile at that thought, assuring Jimmy without words as he curls his fingers around the other's wrist, thumb stroking gently against the spot where he feels Jimmy's pulse beating quietly. From the corner of his eyes, he sees a small upward twitch on Jimmy's lips.

Jacob leans his head forward and slips two of Jimmy's fingers into his mouth without preamble, smiling around the digits when he hears the immediate gasp that his brother lets out from the action. He closes his eyes and hums low in his throat, running his tongue around Jimmy's fingertips as he presses closer.

Eventually Jimmy's breaks the silence, not in irritation but rather due to frustration. "Jacob," he hisses, pushing back against his brother none-too-subtly. Just from Jimmy's voice alone Jacob can already imagine the flushed face and the half-glazed look that his brother must be having now.

He drags it out a bit longer, teasing Jimmy's fingertips with carefully calculated swipes of his tongue until his brother is shamelessly rubbing the curve of his ass against Jacob's own hardening cock, every breath that he takes punctuated with a moan that ends with Jacob's name.

"Jacob," his brother says again, and this time he can't ignore the pleading tone that goes with that. "Please."

Jacob gives in this time, letting Jimmy's fingers slide out from his mouth with a pop as he flips his brother around and kisses him properly, pressing him down against the counter top. As he occupies Jimmy with his tongue and teeth and lips he works Jimmy's pants open, quickly delving one hand underneath the other's boxers to curl fingers around Jimmy's hard cock.

From there its a simple string of action and reaction, listening to the sounds that Jimmy's making and acting accordingly. It isn't long after that before Jimmy is shaking and trembling in his hands and against him, incoherent sounds that turn into a low keen as Jacob brings his brother over the edge and feels it spilling hot and thick on his fingers.

As Jimmy recovers from his high Jacob makes quick work of his own erection, jerking himself off in a few strokes of his own hand. He shudders against his brother as he comes, emptying himself into his hand.

Jimmy kisses him while he slowly recollects himself, combing spit-slicked fingers through his hair. "You seriously get off on the weirdest things," he mutters, soft but amused.

Jacob only grins back in return as he takes that hand in his own again, pressing the back of it against his lips and murmurs in response. "Not my fault you have such good hands, Jim."

Jimmy's hands are hands that have held guns and knives and blood from deaths that still haunt him even until now. But more than that, they are hands that create and protect - and Jacob will protect these hands no matter what.
skullage: (Default)

Jimmy Novak (Spn)/Jacob Glaser (Stonehenge Apocalypse)

[personal profile] skullage 2012-02-09 08:43 am (UTC)(link)
Jimmy used to worship God. Now, he needs something more tangible.
orchidfire: White flowers with "poesía... eres tú" caption. (Default)

FILL: “Believe” | G | Jimmy Novak (SPN)/Jacob Glaser (Stonehenge Apocalypse)

[personal profile] orchidfire 2012-02-11 10:16 pm (UTC)(link)
Warnings: post-angel stress disorder, struggles with religion

Mirrors: LJ, AO3


Believe

Castiel is gone.

Maybe Jimmy should feel guilty about the relief he feels when he wakes up every morning. About the easy way his breaths flow out of him, the way he can clench and unclench his fingers, knowing that no one controls these muscles but him.

But—this is nice. Waking up to something familiar, to something secure. Seeing his daughter’s glowing face at the breakfast table before he sends her to school. Feeling his wife’s slim frame beside him as they prepare dinner together.

This is what he wanted. What he’s always wanted.

He should, after everything, believe more fervently in God. Now that he knows that angels and demons, Heaven and Hell, miracles and monsters exist—that God exists, somewhere out there. He should be praying more frequently, with all his heart; he should read his Bible daily, memorize every word of Revelations now that he knows what’s going to happen.

But—he can’t. He won’t. The last time he seeped devotion from his bones, sang praises to his Lord his God until his voice was no more, he met Castiel, and he would give anything to never hear a whisper of Castiel’s voice ever again.

He has had enough. Angels are not the holiness that he thought they once were. They are single-minded soldiers, cruel and unforgiving.

Jimmy digs the heels of his hands against his eyes. He sighs and flips on the radio. He needs something to listen to other than his own thoughts. Some kind of talk show, maybe. He scans through the stations, settling on one here and there for long enough to catch a couple of words before he switches to another.

“I’m Dr. Jacob Glaser, and you are listening to The Real Story.”

Jimmy pauses. He lets out a little snort. Oh, he knows the real story, all right.

“Hi caller, what’s on your mind?”

“Yo, Jacob! There’s been all this crazy [bleep] going down lately, and I wanna know what you think. Is this some kind of plot by our government to keep us distracted while they come up with some kind of superdrug that’s gonna turn us all into mindless drones? I’m freakin’ out, man!”

“Well, let me tell you right now, your little sheeple theory is just a conspiracy theory. Went and debunked that one myself a couple of years ago; don’t you keep up with the blogs? C’mon. Friends, if you want to weigh in, go ahead and call.”

Jimmy doesn’t know why, but he picks up the phone and dials in the numbers that Jacob rattles off. He’s not sure how busy the station is—how many calls they get, and what he’d even say if he’s on air. But it’s not like he has anything better to do anyway, and it’ll be a bit of fun.

“Hi caller. What’s on your mind?”

“Hey,” Jimmy says. Jacob’s voice is soothing. Light, familiar. “All the freaky stuff happening? It’s the apocalypse. Angels and demons and all of that. Revelations.”

Jacob lets out a little sigh. “Look, I respect your right to worship whatever zombie you want, but, seriously. You religious nuts gotta look at the truth here. We’re not talking about some kind of test sent down from the gray dude in the sky. We’re talking about a full-scale robot takeover. This is just the first stage of their plan. Getting us confused, diverting our attention. And then they’re going to activate all their sleeper cells, and we’re gonna be toast.”

“Robots.” Jimmy snorts. “And next, you’re going to tell me that there were aliens on the moon.”

Jacob’s growl is barely audible. “How many times do I have to tell you people? It was a robot head. The first sign of the takeover. Clearly the first attempt by the cybermen to infiltrate the Earth. A failed attempt, but they’re smart. They’ll get through.”

“Right.”

“Thanks for calling. All right, next caller.”

The line goes dead. Jimmy stares at the receiver for a moment, then sets it down.

A robot takeover.

The corners of Jimmy’s lips twitch upward, and he laughs.

He could believe in that.
Edited 2012-02-11 22:17 (UTC)
callowyn: (Default)

Jimmy Novak (SPN)/Jacob Glaser (Stonehenge Apocalypse)/Amelia Novak (SPN)

[personal profile] callowyn 2012-02-09 08:45 am (UTC)(link)
(Novakcest verse AU) Of course Amelia can tell them apart. Now if she could just convince them that neither of them is the evil twin.
electriclizard: (indy smirk)

Re: Jimmy Novak (SPN)/Jacob Glaser (Stonehenge Apocalypse)/Amelia Novak (SPN)

[personal profile] electriclizard 2012-02-10 02:56 am (UTC)(link)
YES.
callowyn: (Default)

Santana (Glee)/herself

[personal profile] callowyn 2012-02-09 08:50 am (UTC)(link)
Santana always knew she was hot, but damn, this bizarre clone girl's got moves.

Holmes Orgy

(Anonymous) 2012-02-09 10:37 am (UTC)(link)
Benedict Cumberbatch!Holmes/Robert Downey Jr!Holmes/Vasily Livanov!Holmes/Jeremy Brett!Holmes/Gregory House/Basil the Great Mouse Detective/Christopher Lee!Holmes/Gonzo!Holmes/Kate Beaton's Holmes/Basil Rathbone!Holmes/Sherlock Hound/Peter Cushing!Holmes or any combination thereof.

It's not that he's asexual. It's just that - until now - he's never met anybody who could keep up physically AND mentally.

Re: Holmes Orgy

(Anonymous) 2012-02-10 01:52 am (UTC)(link)
Seconded.

Re: Holmes Orgy

[personal profile] orchidfire - 2012-02-10 20:12 (UTC) - Expand
wandersfound: (Default)

Captain Kirk/Captain Kirk

[personal profile] wandersfound 2012-02-09 03:31 pm (UTC)(link)
I don't really have a prompt, but I had a conversation with my roommate once about how Kirk would definitely have sex with himself. (can be Shatner!Kirk/CFine!Kirk, two of one or two of the other, whatever you choose)
clare_dragonfly: Astrid from Fringe looking up, text: I hear nonsense oh it's just the men (Fringe: Astrid: nonsense men)

Prompt: Lincoln Lee/Alt!Lincoln Lee (Fringe)

[personal profile] clare_dragonfly 2012-02-09 07:20 pm (UTC)(link)
Lincoln heads down to let his alternate-universe self out of the maintenance closet... but when he sees him still handcuffed there, he can't just free him right away.
clare_dragonfly: Hello. My name is Eowyn. You killed my uncle. Prepare to die. (Silly: Iniowyn)

Prompt: Denethor (Lord of the Rings movies)/Walternate (Fringe)

[personal profile] clare_dragonfly 2012-02-09 07:21 pm (UTC)(link)
Bonding over their lost sons.
clare_dragonfly: Olivia from Fringe pointing a gun, text: unlike other TV heroines my awesome wasn't victim to my sex life (Fringe: Olivia: awesome)

Prompt: Peter Bishop/Peter Bishop (Fringe)

[personal profile] clare_dragonfly 2012-02-09 07:29 pm (UTC)(link)
He'd gotten so used to being alone, the only one of his kind. He didn't realize until he somehow found his way into yet another alternate universe how wonderful it would be to not be alone anymore.
Edited 2012-02-11 18:02 (UTC)
jjhunter: Closeup of the face from postcard of da Vinci's 'Mona Lisa' with alterations made by Duchamp, i.e. moustache and goatee. (Default)

Prompt: Neal Caffrey/Matt Bomer (White Collar)

[personal profile] jjhunter 2012-02-09 08:03 pm (UTC)(link)
Being a professional actor isn't really all that different from being a world-class con-man. It starts with trading tips.
Edited (It would probably be helpful to have the fandom in the subject line...) 2012-02-11 02:21 (UTC)
jjhunter: Drawing of human JJ in ink tinted with blue watercolor; woman wearing glasses with arched eyebrows (JJ inked)

Prompt: Tim DeKay/ Peter Burke (White Collar)

[personal profile] jjhunter 2012-02-09 08:04 pm (UTC)(link)
He can't wait to see Neal's face.
Edited (J.J. fails at spelling) 2012-02-11 02:21 (UTC)
kayim: (Stargate: Daniel Arms)

Prompt: Daniel Jackson (SG1)/Jimmy (Sanctuary)

[personal profile] kayim 2012-02-09 08:10 pm (UTC)(link)
Daniel found *everything* about Jimmy fascinating
joelthecat: Brenda and Sharon switching barrels (Default)

FILL: "At the Double Palm" | NC-17 | Stargate SG-1: Daniel/Sanctuary: Jimmy

[personal profile] joelthecat 2012-02-18 11:01 am (UTC)(link)
"Dr. Jackson," said General Hammond, "while you are at the conference in Chicago, I need you to pick up a package."

"Deep-dish pizza?" Daniel asked.

"You might say so," the General said. "After the conference, meet a young man in the... Palm Room in the Conservatory? Does that make sense?"

"Garfield Park. Got it."

Daniel took "after the conferance" to mean Sunday after he checked out of his hotel. He left his bag in the rental car and sauntered into the conservatory as if motivated purely by curiosity. There was only one "young man" in the palm room. He stood with his back to Daniel, looking up at the Double Palm. Daniel moved up beside him.

"Jimmy?" he asked.

"That's my name. Don't wear it out."

"My name is Daniel Jackson. I'm supposed to collect a breadboard from you."

"Yeah. Come to the men's room with me."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, I'm not going to get it out in public, am I?" The young man turned to look at Daniel, and both froze.

For starters, he wasn't all that young, although General Hammond might have had a different point of view on that. He seemed to be about Daniel's age. Also, about Daniel's height.

And with Daniel's face.

"Are you," Jimmy asked, "from around here?"

"I worked here for a while," Daniel said, "but I was raised in New York City. My parents died when I was very young."

"Mine died when I was twelve," Jimmy told him.

"You knew him?"

"Yeah, for what he was worth."

"Not brothers, then," said Daniel.

"Not unless somebody lied to somebody. You human? Magnus didn't say."

Daniel had a moment of panic, wondering how much his duplicate knew about the existence of other species and exactly who this Magnus person was, before deciding that a truthful answer could do no harm.

"Yes," he said. "You?"

"Abnormal. Don't even ask; just come in the john with me and I'll show you."

Daniel had no idea what an "abnormal" was, and that seemed like the least of his problems trailed after Jimmy, pondering. He had no idea how well his parents had got along. This man might well be his brother. Or he could be a clone. Or a mass of replicators held together by pure malice. The two men weren't exactly identical, Daniel told himself. Jimmy was scruffier. He even had the shadow of a beard. Replicators would not have those tiny differences, and the other possibilities were not immediately dangerous. He hoped not, anyway.

"'When faced with an apparently impossibe problem,'" he quoted, "eliminate the answers that cannot be true, and choose the simplest solution remaining.' I guess maybe somebody did lie to somebody, and my dad or somebody wasn't perfect." An imperfect father was actually a more comforting prospect than any of the other options.

"Doesn't really matter," Jimmy said.

Daniel followed Jimmy into a bathroom stall, worried that someone would notice two pairs of feet beneath the door, then saw the four shoes beneath the partition, and heard what their owners were doing. He was in a stall with his near-twin in THAT kind of public toilet. Things were just getting worse and worse.

"Abnormal," said Jimmy. "We're all different, but I got...."

He pulled up a tee with a polar bear eating an inuit like a popsicle and revealed a long scar.

"God," said Daniel, "what happened to you?"

"Born with it," said Jimmy. He placed Daniel's hand over it, and Daniel realized that the scar... birthmark... whatever it was was open. Fascinated, Daniel slid his hand inside, and Jimmy gasped as if he were a woman being touched.

"Sorry," Jimmy said. "It's as sensitive as...."

"Yeah," said Daniel. He withdrew his hand, holding a plastic bag with a wire-wrapped prototype board in it. General Hammond's package, no doubt.

"Be careful with that," said Jimmy. "I don't want to tell you how many border checkpoints I carried it through."

"Smuggled? Oh." Daniel's thumb traced the exterior of the pouch, which sealed firmly. Jimmy smiled and swayed a bit. The couple in the next stall were making ecstatic noises. Daniel slipped the bag into the pocket of his windbreaker. Either his curious touch or the activities in the next stall had given Jimmy something of an erection, and suddenly Daniel found himself in the same condition.

"Jimmy? On the long list of things that have happened to me today that have absolutely never happened before...."

"You want me to help you with that?"

"You're gay?" It figured. His twin was gay. Did that mean Daniel was gay? He was reacting like he was gay. He couldn't be, though, because he liked women, but he....

"Sometimes yes, sometimes no," Jimmy said. "I lived on the streets after my Dad died. You learn to do things to survive."

"You...?" Daniel felt himself wilt. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to," he told Jimmy.

"Trust me, I want to." He leaned forward and kissed Daniel. His moustache tickled, but the lips beneath it were hard, and the tongue that teased its way into Daniel's mouth almost burned. Jimmy took a step forward and pressed his whole body against Daniel, and something hard pressed against Daniel's erection, something that must be Jimmy's hard cock. Daniel felt his own manhood twitch, and he swayed, his knees suddenly weak.

"How are we going to do this?" he whispered.

Jimmy smirked at him, and Daniel felt his hands working on his belt, his zipper, and then shucking the fabric away from his hips. Jimmy's hands wrapped around him and tugged the most delicious tug, and Daniel watched a bead of clear liquid form at his tip. His arms were around Jimmy's shoulders now, which he guessed did mean he was gay or at least bi or certainly curious....

TUG.

He pressed his lips against Jimmy's mouth again, and suddenly they were kissing with abandon, kissing like lovers at the end of a long separation, kissing with a joy that....

TUG.

"Oh, my God," Daniel whispered. His eyes closed, but he felt Jimmy slide down his body, and then those wonderful lips slid over the head of his cock. Daniel's eyes flew open, and he watched the glans disappear into....

Into his own face, into lips that swirled over the swollen head, around and around and then Daniel felt himself lunge, heard his own wild cry and saw his hands in Jimmy's hair, forcing the duplicate of his own head down on a cock that was suddenly exploding in all directions.

Daniel sagged against the partition. Jimmy stood up again, catching the fluid dribbling from the corners of his mouth out of his beard with one finger and then licking the finger clean. Daniel kissed him, kissed away the evidence, surprised at the pleasant salty taste.

"Lots of guys won't do that," Jimmy said. "They won't kiss you after."

Daniel wrapped his arms around Jimmy's shoulders and kissed him again, first gently, the furiously. Only as the kiss tapered off did he become aware of the hard maleness poking into his front.

"You don't have to...." Jimmy said. Before he finished Daniel had pushed Jimmy's sweatpants down and had the other man's cock in his hands. He had to do it quickly, before he lost his nerve and remembered that he absolutely was not gay and would never ever hold another guy's balls in one hand and work a hard cock with the other one, work it until....

Jimmy bit his lip when he came and made almost no sound. When he finished he leaned forward and laid his hand on Daniel's shoulder.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Daniel had no idea what to do next, but he couldn't just stand there. He pulled some paper from the toilet roll, wiped Jimmy off and tucked him back into his trousers, then cleaned his hands and tossed the paper away. His own equipment didn't look too bad. He closed himself up, suddenly wanting very much to be out of that stall. Not only had he just had sex with another man, he had had sex with someone who might well be his own brother. How sick was that? He opened the door, staggered to the sink and scrubbed his hands under the water. Jimmy came and stood beside him.

"Daniel?" he asked. "You okay?"

"Yeah," said Daniel, still scrubbing.

"You said you never did that before," Jimmy said. "Not what you expected?"

Daniel touched a wet hand to Jimmy's face, so nearly his own face. He traced the line of that mysterious slash through the white tee, and ended with his hand on Jimmy's crotch.

"None of it was what I expected," he said.

"You gonna be okay?"

"Yes," said Daniel. He would. If he could deal with Go'auld and replicators and what he caught Sam and Janet doing that time, he could deal with having sex with his bro... not his brother. With someone who sort of looked like him but was absolutely not his brother. "I deal with weirder stuff than this on a daily basis."

"Then you must have a strange life, my friend," said Jimmy.

"I do," said Daniel, "and I have to catch a plane and get back to it."

"If you're ever in Chicago again...."

"I will," said Daniel, knowing he never would.
kayim: (Avengers: Hawkeye)

Prompt: William Brandt (Mission Impossible)/Clint Barton (Avengers)/Brian Gamble (SWAT)

[personal profile] kayim 2012-02-09 08:13 pm (UTC)(link)
There were secrets hidden in their family tree that even they didn't know about....
kayim: (X-Men: Jamie)

Prompt: Jamie Madrox/Jamie Madrox (Marvel Comics)

[personal profile] kayim 2012-02-09 09:00 pm (UTC)(link)
When they're exact duplicates of yourself, is it even considered incest?

Re: Prompt: Jamie Madrox/Jamie Madrox (Marvel Comics)

[identity profile] black-sluggard.livejournal.com 2012-02-10 09:35 pm (UTC)(link)
I've always pretty much taken it for granted that he gives himself head in the shower every morning...

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