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Monday - Food

Good morning everyone! I'm voksen and I'll be your host this week.

Today's theme is food - savory, sweet, eating it or making it, anything to do with food is a go.

Just remember the community rules: five prompts at a time; you're welcome to post more when those are answered (please be kind to the code monkeys and don't go too crazy), no spoilers in your prompts til a week after release, warn in bold and leave space if there's a spoiler in your fic itself, and please use this format for your prompts (the last is for crossovers):

A Song of Ice and Fire, Sandor/Sansa, the best lemon cakes she ever had
Ranma 1/2, Dr. Tofu/Kasumi, he'd know her cooking anywhere
Baccano/Highlander, author's choice, hunger is the best sauce in the world

And if you don't get caught by any of today's prompts, why not check out the lonely prompt archive at delicious?



Jan. 25th, 2010 02:55 pm (UTC)
Supernatural, Castiel/Crowley, forbidden fruit.
Apr. 16th, 2010 09:03 am (UTC)
The night before the end of the world, Castiel appears in Crowley's study, pale-faced and holding a pomegranate in his hands.

Without even a greeting, the angel kisses him, and though his lips are soft, the kiss is harsh and tastes like desperation.

"Take me to bed," Castiel demands when he finally lets go. "Please."

So Crowley does; moves towards his bedroom, pulling Castiel along with him as he strips the angel of that hideous outfit he insists on wearing. Castiel's hands fumble at Crowley's buttons, the pomegranate he's still holding in a vice-like grip hindering his efforts to undo them, and eventually he just tears the shirt open, buttons flying.

Crowley would comment, he really liked that shirt after all, but Castiel chooses then to kiss him again, licking his way into Crowley's mouth with a forceful determination that makes Crowley moan.

When Crowley's knees hit the bed, Castiel pushes him down upon it, then gently places the pomegranate on the nightstand before he follows him down.

The rest of their clothes are shed in a haze of kissingtouchingcaressingfeeling, and when they're finally naked among soft white sheets, Castiel reaches again for his pomegranate.

Straddling Crowley's waist, almost shining in the light of the open fire, Castiel cracks the fruit open with his hands and crushes it between his fingers, the bright red juice raining down upon white cotton and white skin.

With stained fingers, Castiel picks apart the fruit; peels away nine red seeds and eats them. Then he peels away another nine, and offers them to Crowley, who licks them from Castiel's fingers with a raised eyebrow.

The rest of the fruit is discarded among the sheets as Castiel bears down upon him, kissing and licking at red-stained skin as he thrusts his hardness against Crowley's hip.

Their coupling is frantic and desperate; Castiel ignoring Crowley's attempts to slow them down, calm them down, and his fingers leaving bruises where he holds onto the demon like he fears he might disappear, and his lips burn where they leave kisses laced with Grace over Crowley's stolen heart, and upon Crowley's stolen arms.

When it is over, Castiel clings to Crowley; distress his eyes, in the way he breathes, as he wraps arms like steel bands about his body. "I will likely die tomorrow," he whispers against the side of Crowley's face.

At that, Crowley feels a pang of sorrow for them both, and that sadness makes him reach a hand into Castiel's hair, makes it rest there as an act of comfort while he murmurs soothing nothings against Castiel's temple.

It is nearly an hour later, and Crowley is almost asleep, when Castiel speaks again. "Did you know that the fruit of Eden that was forbidden to Adam and Eve was not the apple, but the pomegranate?" he asks, pulling back so that they are face to face.

"I didn't, no," Crowley replies, with a sinking (or is it maybe rising?) feeling of something.

"So it is not the apple, but the pomegranate, that is the symbol of a fall from grace," he continues, and his eyes burn as he stares into Crowley. "And it is also a symbol of marriage."

"Oh, angel. What have you done?" Crowley asks, awe and terror at the enormity of what Castiel is saying pulling the air from his lungs.

"I made a choice," Castiel answers simply. "If I don't die tomorrow, this is what I've decided I want to come back to," he says, so honest and pure it's almost too painful to watch. "And... if I do perish, I would want you to know that."

There is so much he could say to that, so many words in so many languages he could use to express what he feels in the face of this. But in the end, the only thing he can bring himself to say is "I guess I'll be expecting you for supper tomorrow night, then. How does orange duck from that place in Beijing sound?"

Castiel smiles. "I'd be amenable to that."

Edited at 2010-04-16 10:21 pm (UTC)
Apr. 16th, 2010 11:21 pm (UTC)
Oh after all the pain you caused me with the last one, you've brought me so much joy with this. Hot and romantic without being too smushy. It also made me want a pomegranate and I don't like pomegranates. Loved it. ♥

I have a feeling I'm going to have to start throwing more Cas/Crowley prompts out for you now, heh. :)
Apr. 16th, 2010 11:26 pm (UTC)
Yeah, after being so terrible to Crowley in the last one, I felt I definitely needed to write something a bit more positive. And I'm ever so pleased you approve. X3

This sounds like an excellent plan to me. *thumbs up*
Apr. 18th, 2010 02:10 pm (UTC)
Could someone point me toward your previous story.

Loved this!
Apr. 18th, 2010 07:56 pm (UTC)
Other, more angstacular fic is here.

Thank you~ :3
Apr. 21st, 2010 04:18 am (UTC)
Oh, that's so so beautiful!
Apr. 21st, 2010 04:27 am (UTC)
Thank you! :)


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