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Tuesday: Limits

Hey all. It's me again, back for my second day of guest hosting. *waves*

Today's theme is Limits. What happens when our favorite characters are pushed to their limits? Do they break? Are they surprisingly resilient? Do they recognize their own limits? Do they even have limits? These are the kind of questions we should consider today.

Please keep these rules in mind:
  • Only three prompts for the same fandom & only five prompts in a row (though if one of your prompts is filled, you can prompt again).
  • No spoilers in your prompts for at least a week after the airdate/release.
  • Warn for any spoilers for your fic in bold and leave at least three spaces before the text.
Prompt formatting examples (because proper formatting for the code monkeys is good manners):
  • Leverage, Eliot/Hardison/Parker, sometimes he feels his control slipping, worries he might go nuclear, but Hardison & Parker are always there to help ground him (even when they don't know they're helping)
  • Hawaii Five-0, Steve/Danny, Danny's fairly sure Steve would cross every possible line without a second thought if he didn't have Danny there to act as his voice of reason (though "reason" occasionally sounds a lot like "ranting")
  • Merlin, Arthur/Merlin, at some point, tending to Arthur in his private chambers as the Prince flounces around bright-eyed & half-naked is going to cause Merlin's resolve to crack; he suspects he may have reached that point this morning
Nothing grab your interest? That's alright, there are plenty of Lonely Prompts out there. Feel free to check 'em out.

And... that's all you need from me. Allons-y!



( 205 comments — Leave a comment )
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Feb. 15th, 2011 08:24 am (UTC)
Leverage, Eliot/Hardison/Parker, sometimes he feels his control slipping, worries he might go nuclear, but Hardison & Parker are always there to help ground him (even when they don't know they're helping)
Feb. 25th, 2011 12:48 am (UTC)
Filled: 3 times

Nate pushed a button Eliot hadn’t known he had but before he could truly go insane Parker asked “What’s for dinner? I want steak. Can you make steak, Eliot?”

She hadn’t looked up from the harness she was working on and was seemingly not paying attention to the argument Nate and Eliot were about to have. She was being herself and wanted what she wanted.

“I’ll make steak if you promise to eat a scoop of the vegetables.”

Parker scowled at Eliot, but acquiesced.

He was so busy thinking about vegetables and if they had enough steak or would he have to go to the store, he wasn’t furious when he looked at Nate again.

He hated when Parker did that.

The next time Eliot felt his control slipping, felt himself turning into a monster from long ago, a man had a gun pointed at Sophie’s head. He’d disarmed the man easily, but the blood rage he felt that someone had actually pointed a gun at someone he considered family hadn’t dissipated yet. That’s why he kept banging the goons head into the concrete wall. Sophie grabbed at him and yelled his name pleading with him to stop.

It took a moment before he actually heard the of Hardison saying “Eliot, stop…please.”

Hardison hadn’t yelled, hadn’t raised his voice but Eliot stopped immediately.

“Thanks El. Now you and Sophie, get outta there. Ya got three guys comin at ya from your left about fifteen yards and closing.”

Eliot grabbed Sophie and they made it out safely.

Days later Eliot sat in his apartment. He could still feel it. The fury and anger that he usually has control over is slipping slowly and it didn’t feel like he could do anything about it.

He’d worked out, jogged, hell he’d meditated and nothing was helping stay the wrath he’d spent years trying and finally finding a way to keep under wraps.
Just when he decided he’d have to take a break from the team there was a knock on his door.

Opening it he was surprised.

Parker stood at the door next to Hardison who was holding Chinese food and a few dvds.

“You…you didn’t come through a window? Are you feeling ok?” He reached to check her for a temperature.

“I’m fine thanks. Hardison and I brought movies and Chinese food. We even got extra fortune cookies so I can have some for breakfast tomorrow.”

Eliot watched Hardison wander to the kitchen, find plates, utensils and drinks and set everything up buffet style.

“Ok, I got a little of everything, so everyone should be appeased, and man, I’m sorry, but it’s Parker’s turn to pick the movie, so…”

Even as he sighed Eliot couldn’t help but grin.



They were halfway through The Frog Princess when Eliot realized he wasn’t tense, angry or uptight. He felt calm and peaceful. He looked at Parker who was enthralled with the film and glanced at Hardison who was fading in and out. He realized these to people kept him from going nuclear. From going completely off the rails and becoming someone he never wanted to be again.

He decided he’d have to keep these two around for a while.
Re: Filled: 3 times - sycophantastic - Mar. 9th, 2011 08:33 am (UTC) - Expand
Re: Filled: 3 times - belladhanna - Mar. 9th, 2011 11:32 am (UTC) - Expand
Re: Filled: 3 times - carinascott - Mar. 11th, 2011 09:25 am (UTC) - Expand
Feb. 15th, 2011 08:24 am (UTC)
Hawaii Five-0, Steve/Danny, Danny's fairly sure Steve would cross every possible line without a second thought if he didn't have Danny there to act as his voice of reason (though "reason" occasionally sounds a lot like "ranting")
Feb. 15th, 2011 08:24 am (UTC)
Merlin, Arthur/Merlin, at some point, tending to Arthur in his private chambers as the Prince flounces around bright-eyed & half-naked is going to cause Merlin's resolve to crack; he suspects he may have reached that point this morning
Feb. 15th, 2011 08:25 am (UTC)
Supernatural; Alastair/Castiel; the limits of endurance.
Feb. 15th, 2011 03:43 pm (UTC)
burning for you - PG, gennish, AU
Castiel can no longer feel his wings. He does not know how long this day has lasted, how long he has been spread across the rack. A thousand demons have each had a turn, and at the end of every one, Alistair stepped up and caressed him with a blade.

But he does not know how long it's been since he tried to save a man only to be caught himself.

He has lost faith. Father has not come for him, nor any of his siblings.

And Alistair says, "Got a treat for you, angel."

Suddenly, Castiel's wings are burning and he feels it. And the man he tried to save is standing at Alistair's shoulder, razor in hand and eyes black as the Pit into which Castiel fell.

And Alistair says, "Go get him, kiddo," and the man Castiel failed to save smiles and smiles, sharp as the razor in his fist and as bright as the sky Castiel will never again fly across.
Re: burning for you - PG, gennish, AU - ravenspear - Feb. 15th, 2011 03:46 pm (UTC) - Expand
Re: burning for you - PG, gennish, AU - tigriswolf - Feb. 15th, 2011 05:56 pm (UTC) - Expand
Re: burning for you - PG, gennish, AU - ahavaelwilhouse - Feb. 15th, 2011 05:36 pm (UTC) - Expand
Re: burning for you - PG, gennish, AU - tigriswolf - Feb. 15th, 2011 05:57 pm (UTC) - Expand
Feb. 15th, 2011 08:25 am (UTC)
Supernatural, Castiel, being nearly human is limiting him in so many ways he hadn't even realized would affect him
Feb. 15th, 2011 08:27 am (UTC)
Supernatural, Gabriel/any, being (technically) dead means that he doesn't have the follow any rules whatsoever anymore
Feb. 15th, 2011 08:29 am (UTC)
Supernatural, Castiel/Lucifer, angels working without orders - with free will - tend to go a bit strange
Feb. 15th, 2011 08:29 am (UTC)
Supernatural, Gabriel/Crowley, limits & rules are for humans
Feb. 15th, 2011 08:31 am (UTC)
Any, any, dreams: places where reality has no meaning, and anything can happen
Feb. 15th, 2011 02:50 pm (UTC)
Little Women/Beth/dreams: places where reality has no meaning, and anything can happen
Beth March had never troubled herself with aspirations. In return, dreams rarely troubled themselves with her. She was the most tranquil of sleepers, and on the rare occasions when the night chose to paint pictures behind her closed eyes, they were only images of her home and her chores, or sometimes her sisters or her little piano. Usually she forgot about them in the morning.

One evening after several long months spent trying to wean herself off of life, Beth dreamed that she was playing piano before a large concert hall. She wore a pale dress, and the instrument before her was large and polished black, with keys as purely white as a dove’s wings. And the music!

Beth awoke with a gasp, for something akin to longing stirred within her, and she felt unaccountably disturbed.

“How strange,” she said to herself, very softly, for her movement had awakened Jo who never left her side these days.

“What is it dear?” Jo asked, adjusting her coverlet as Beth lay back against pillows.

“Only a dream,” Beth whispered, “a very good one, I think.”

She shut her eyes, as Jo ran a gentle hand through her hair. Beneath the covers she stretched out her own hands, regretting terribly how very limited she was. Her fingers were too thin now, too weak to produce the music that she loved. Perhaps she would be able to play again in heaven, or perhaps that was only an Earthly concern and she wouldn’t care to once she was there.

Beth turned on her side, hoping that Jo would not see the few tears that fell against her pillow.
Feb. 15th, 2011 08:32 am (UTC)
Supernatural, Gabriel and Meg, She's desperate to prove herself to Lucifer and the key to doing so lies in breaking the archangel currently protecting Sam Winchester
Feb. 15th, 2011 01:17 pm (UTC)
She was desperate to prove herself to Lucifer.

She was desperate to show she would follow him to the ends of hell and back again.

The key, she realised, was in breaking the archangel currently protecting Sam Winchester.

So she captured him. She tortured him. She did everything she could.

But in her desperation to prove herself, she had forgotten one thing.

Archangels were much more powerful than demons.

Soon, she was the one captured.

She was the one tortured -- in the most heinous ways she could have imagined.

In ways that drove demons mad.

With laughter and kindness and love and gentleness.

Meg was the one that broke.

He tore her down to the black smoke and rebuilt her from the ground up.

The next time they met, Sam and Dean saw a dark-haired woman flashing in to fight on their side. When she said they knew her, she laughed at their incredulous looks and made her eyes change.

Black whites. Yellow irises. With a dot of blinding white grace-stamp where the pupil would have been.

And hell shook with Lucifer's fury.
Re: THE BREAKING - belladhanna - Feb. 15th, 2011 05:55 pm (UTC) - Expand
Re: THE BREAKING - jennytork - Feb. 15th, 2011 05:56 pm (UTC) - Expand
Re: THE BREAKING - ihasstopwatch - Feb. 16th, 2011 08:41 am (UTC) - Expand
Re: THE BREAKING - jennytork - Feb. 17th, 2011 03:10 am (UTC) - Expand
Feb. 15th, 2011 08:32 am (UTC)
Supernatural, Dean/Castiel, "Dean, if you do that one more time -" "What, THIS?"
(Deleted comment)
Mar. 14th, 2011 03:46 am (UTC)
you bleed just to know you're alive (Loveless, Kouya/Yamato)

It's too big for a comment, so cut to my journal
Feb. 15th, 2011 08:33 am (UTC)
Les Miserables (book or musical); Cosette/any; It took Cosette a long time to realize she was capable of anger, but as soon as it happened she learned to regret just how formidable her temper could be
Feb. 15th, 2011 08:34 am (UTC)
Supernatural; Jimmy/Adam; they have been pushed beyond any sane limit, but they have not been (completely) broken.
Mar. 17th, 2011 10:04 am (UTC)
FILL: And if you see my friends, tell them I'm fine (Jimmy/Adam, PG-13)
Adam rolls out of bed first in the morning before the sunrise. He sits on the front porch, breath misting in the cold, just to be in the open air. One day Jimmy stumbles out early enough to see him there, phone pressed to his lips, and wonders if there’s somebody Adam needs to call.

Adam doesn’t like riding in cars. The bus is bearable, but until Jimmy had proven Adam couldn’t walk everywhere and still be on time, it was almost impossible to get him up those steps onto the public transport.

“I don’t need to be there on time,” Adam had shrugged.

“Adam, you could lose your job,” Jimmy argued.

Adam didn’t seem to hear him and just turned down the street with his hands in his jacket.

Jimmy sighs and their grocery bags sag in his arms.

On some days, Adam just didn’t care and Jimmy didn’t have the strength to make him.

They used to be more than this.

Adam has waking nightmares Jimmy can’t wake him from. He’s dangerous when they come on and, it feels like some vicious betrayal, but Jimmy has to step outside the bedroom; let Adam ride them out on his own. They learned that the second time Adam came around and saw the bruises on Jimmy’s throat the morning after, the broken skin on his cheek and lip. The first time, it had been a lot easier to hide the effect of a few broken ribs.

The guilt in Adam’s eyes is worse than his own pain, so Jimmy agrees to lock the door.

Sometimes, it’s Jimmy that needs help. He’s woken up more than once on the ground with no memory of falling, or feeling ill in the slightest. The worst time, he fell in the street and woke up at the hospital with four stitches and a mild concussion. Some nights he wakes up on the floor of the lounge with his head pillowed in Adam’s lap while the other man flips through the TV channels like Jimmy chose to sprawl there. The only thing ruining the effect is the ice pack Adam holds to his temple.

It’s become ordinary.

Adam has phantom agony and the doctors can’t explain it (they know why). Adam hates doctors because they won’t increase his pain meds. Once upon a time he was going to be a doctor, too, but not anymore. They argue, just once, when Jimmy won’t buy him alcohol and then they never mention it again.

Jimmy has catatonic periods that can last for hours. Once, he blinked into awareness at the dining table, weak, and pained like he hadn’t eaten or drank in days. When he asks how long he’s been… absent, Adam’s eyes glaze over in that way Jimmy’s learned means he’s about to lie. He doesn’t ask anymore and just takes the food handed to him.

They don’t talk about it.

Adam sits beside him on the edge of the bed one night, almost leaning into him with the dip of the mattress.

There’s one bedside lamp on in the corner. It’s late. They’re tired. They’re always tired.

Jimmy finally moves, settling a hand on Adam’s knee. Adam looks at it, sighs, and wraps an arm around Jimmy’s waist. He rests his forehead on Jimmy’s shoulder when Jimmy’s thumb strokes his knee through the denim, but Jimmy’s watching the dark trees shake in the dim light of the street lamps outside.

Winter’s coming.

“I’m thinking of going to the park tomorrow,” Jimmy says. Tomorrow is Sunday.

Adam lifts his head and when Jimmy looks at him, there’s this small, wistful smile on his face.

They’re it. Despite the nightmares, the black-outs, the pain, and the apathy, they’re still here, and every night they still have this.

Adam leans in when Jimmy kisses him. He’s still smiling when they part and leans his forehead to Jimmy’s. Jimmy clutches the hand that winds through his and turns a deaf ear to the autumn wind howling outside.

“Do you want to come with me?”

“... Yeah.”

Edited at 2011-03-17 10:18 am (UTC)
(Deleted comment)
May. 28th, 2011 11:38 pm (UTC)
Harry knew it was a bad day when Professor McGonagall asked him to come to the school to pick up his son in the middle of the term. He was reading himself to see James sitting unrepentantly in McGonagall’s office but had to blink a couple times when the door opened and instead of James he saw Al. Al, who in the past six years, had never gotten into trouble for anything, who was the least rebellious kid one could imagine especially compared to James who seemed to cause mischief as much as Fred and George had back then.
“Al! What happened?”
“Mr. Potter, I’m afraid to tell you that your son has used curses on multiple students in a crowded hallway. Two of them are still in the infirmary.” McGonagall had never been one for small talk.
“They deserved it.” Al said decidedly before Harry could ask why he had done such thing.
“Deserved it for what?” Harry asked. When McGonagall had flooed him, she had said that so far his son had refused to speak about the circumstances.
“The things they said,” He sneered, reminding harry vaguely of Malfoy, “what they did...” He trailed off, seemingly too angry to speak. He was shaking with the force of his fury.
“Please explain, Mr. Potter.” McGonagall prompted him.
“What they said to Scor, what they did to him...they wouldn’t stop and since no one else was doing anything I had to stop them.” Harry was only marginally surprised that Al would lose his temper because of Scorpius Malfoy. The two had basically lived in each other’s pockets since Al’s first day in Hogwarts which had forced Harry to spend a lot more time with Malfoy than he would have ever guessed.
“What did they say to Mr. Malfoy?” McGonagall asked patiently.
“They called him names, pushed him around, destroyed his things...he wouldn’t fight back. Said that would only make them angrier...So what if he was dating Simon Darcy and not some stupid girl! That’s none of their business.” He growled and looked from Harry to McGonagall as if he was ready to curse them as well if they didn’t agree with him.
“You should have informed a teacher of this. We don’t tolerate-“ The door was opened and Scorpius Malfoy stormed inside.
(no subject) - smaragdbird - May. 28th, 2011 11:38 pm (UTC) - Expand
(Deleted comment)
(no subject) - smaragdbird - May. 29th, 2011 10:38 pm (UTC) - Expand
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