five acts

Sep. 2nd, 2015 03:55 pm
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[personal profile] black_hat
Here's how it works:
1. Cut a hole in the box.
2. Post a list of your five favorite acts/kinks/themes/tropes to read about. Check out this list if you need some inspiration. At the bottom, add what fandoms/pairings you're interested in.
3. Go HERE and post a link to your list. Read other people's lists.
4. Write comment-fic (or longer pieces) based off of other people's lists. Post either the fic or a link to the fic in the person's post.

Here's a link for the overall meme:

Five Acts
1. Situational engineering (the conscious or unconscious manufacture of events that give an emotional or sexual pay-off which can't be otherwise achieved; in particular, perilous situations; for example, character A puts himself in danger in order to receive fussy attention from character B; pay-off can be simply seeing someone, or hurt/comfort touching, intimacy, adrenaline sex, etc)-YES!!!
2 )Mindfuck, mindgames (yaayyyy!<333)
3) Tragic flaws
4) Trust and vows (promises are kept or broken; loyalty or betrayal; absolute trust or doubt; fidelity or infidelity; blindfolds or bondage as trust symbols; commitment or fear of commitment; acts of devotion; marriage vows; unconditional love; blood brothers and oaths; showing trust/faith in someone's abilities) (I love trust issues and showing faith in another's abilities ;-))
5). Emotional themes, emo-kink (angst; wallows; darkfic; emotional damage; psychological trauma; tragic pasts; broken characters; guilt and shame; mental instability; sadness and grief; abandonment or fear of same; characters who can't go home again; fear in general; nightmares; loneliness; broken-heartedness; failure; insecurity; self-hatred; self-mutilation such as secret cutting; suicide; see also Insanity)


Alias: Sark/Sydney
Batman: Harley/Joker, Harley/Ivy, Catwoman/Batman, Jason Todd/anyone, and okay, Joker/Batman
Buffy: Spike/Buffy, Buffy/Angel, Buffy/Faith, Cordelia/Angel, Spike/Faith, Spike/Dru, Oz/Willow
Harry Potter: Luna/Harry, Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Luna/Tom, Tom/Ginny, Tom/Harry, Luna/Hermione, Ginny/Luna, Tom/Bellatrix
Heroes: Sylar/Elle, Adam/Elle, Elle/Claire, Adam/Claire, Claire/Gretchen, Sylar/Claire, Sylar/Eden, Sylar/Maya, Gabriel/Maya, Gabriel/Elle, Gabriel/Claire, Elle/Eden, Adam/Angela, Adam/Eden, Peter/Claire, Mohinder/Elle, Mohinder/Eden, Peter/Sylar, Adam/Maya, Sylar/Monica, Adam/Peter, Adam/Sylar, Adam/Monica, Sylar/Mohinder, adultMolly/adult Micah, Peter/Elle, Luke/Elle, Peter/Monica, Gretchen/Sylar, Peter/Eden, Luke/Sylar, Luke/Claire (basically any character pairing or moresome in the Heroes verse)
Glee: Rachel/Quinn, Quinn/Rachel, Puck/Rachel, Finn/Kurt, Will/adultRachel, Will/adultQuinn, Will/Sue, Will/Emma
Inuyasha: Inuyasha/Kagome, Kagome/Kikyo, Inuyasha/Kikyo, Naraku/Kagome, Miroku/Sango, Naraku/Sango
Star Trek: Spock/Uhura, McCoy/Uhura, Spock/Kirk, Kirk/McCoy
Trueblood: Eric/Sookie, Tommy/Jessica, Hoyt/Jessica, Bill/Jessica, Pam/Jessica, Pam/Sookie? XD, Tara/Franklin, Tara/Jason
Vampire Diaries: Damon/Elena, Damon/Katherine, Stefan/Katherine
Veronica Mars: Veronica/Logan

glee, finn/kurt, situational engineering

Date: 2010-09-04 08:33 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Possible character spoilers for future episodes?

Getting hit in the face by a basketball hurts just as much as would be expected.

Finn's face has been entirely constructed of bruises, an ugly mass of purple and yellow, and his head still feels like it is floating up in the clouds. It's kind of a nice feeling, even if there is very little else about lying in a hospital bed that can count as 'nice'. The doctor-dude had said that he hadn't broken his nose, though, and maybe he's even going to be allowed to go home by the end of the evening. Concussions suck.

They suck even more when you might have kind of let them happen on purpose.

Kind of.


Finn shifts in his hospital bed and reaches up his hand to prod at the bruises on his face, decorating his nose and eyes. With the addition of painkillers into his system, it doesn't hurt that much at all. It can come back to bite him on the ass later if it wants. For the moment, it's fun enough.

"You shouldn't do that," Kurt tells him, lounging at the side of his bed.

Ah, yeah. Kurt.

The whole reason he'd taken a ball to the face in the first place.

Maybe that requires a little more explanation. Just a little more, though - it can kinda be summed up in one word, one name, one syllable that has become the most annoying thing in Finn's life lately. It's been haunting his thoughts and making them suck and he's known all along who to blame that on.


Stupid, annoying, perfect Sam.

"It's cool," he tells Kurt, who doesn't look as if he believes him at all. He has a chemistry book spread open on his lap, but hasn't done any homework since he got here. His attention has been solely on Finn - which is what he wants, whether he's going to consciously 'fess up to that or not. For so long now, he has been used to being the centre of Kurt's attention, the sun that he orbits around - now he's been relegated to moon-position, or Pluto or something else like that, and he can't say he's happy about it. He prods at his face again. "Seriously. It's like I can feel it, but I can't feel it. Like being at the dentist."

Kurt places his book to the side and stands up, stepping forward so that he can grasp hold of Finn's hand and pull it away from his face. Finn doesn't struggle with him, even if he could. That's not the point - the point is that Kurt's hand is really ridiculously soft, even if his grip is as firm as any mechanic's would be. "If anyone gets to do the face-prodding, it should be me. You've ruined my evening, you know."

"Yeah?" Finn frowns. It makes his face twinge, but it doesn't hurt now. Emotions are kinda going to be a bitch until these bruises heal, though. "What were you gonna be up to?"

He knows. He'd overheard it in the locker room, because guys talk - even Sam. A table booked at the priciest place a set of high-schoolers can afford, a movie to watch, a date. An honest-to-god date - Finn remembers having those. He remembers the adrenaline rush that came just from getting to hold Quinn's hand.

"Nothing exciting," Kurt says. Finn bites on his tongue and doesn't accuse him of lying. No point.

Kurt starts to pull away to sit down again, but Finn tightens his grip on Kurt's hand - it's like tethering a horse. Kurt stops at the slightest pressure. "I'm glad you're here," he says, holding Kurt's gaze.

He's sort of wondering if that is still enough to make Kurt's stomach flip, and he smiles in the hope that it is. He's not interested, not romantically, but he's - he's got used to it. Being treated like you're a god? It's awesome. Really freaking awesome.

Having that taken away? Not so awesome.

Kurt looks down first, with a smile on his face that he's attempting to hide. It makes Finn's smile turn wide and dorky, and he relaxes a little more against his hospital bed. "You're hurt. Where else would I be?" he asks, with the kind of earnest care that used to make Finn uncomfortable.

He's comfortable now, with Kurt in his hand. Comfortable as hell.

Re: glee, finn/kurt, situational engineering

Date: 2010-09-04 08:59 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]

I see what you did there! In such a concise fic too. I loved this, so much, because it's very Finn. He'd only notice how something felt when it's so far gone. I loved the masochism behind it, and I loved that Kurt was sincere! in his caring for Finn.

"Being treated like you're a god? It's awesome. Really freaking awesome.

Having that taken away? Not so awesome."

Aw man. This tugged on my heartstrings, and it's so interesting that this is the way he feels able to reach out to Kurt, hoping to see that he affected Kurt with a smile. It's so complex and real and kind of sad, and I loved it. Thank you for writing this for me! <3

Re: glee, finn/kurt, situational engineering

Date: 2010-09-04 09:24 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
♥ You're so welcome. I'm very eager to see what their interactions are like in the upcoming episodes.

Re: glee, finn/kurt, situational engineering

Date: 2010-09-05 03:02 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Me too! The show has given us some amazingly intense moments, and so I can't wait either!

(and you def. captured that kind of intensity, so. <3)

Jason/Tim (DC), Emotional

Date: 2010-09-04 10:16 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
“Get the fuck out of here!” spats Jason.
The man is sitting on the narrow bed in his little flat. Tim knew he will try to throw him away. A lost battle he’ll try to win. As usual.
“You know pretty well, I won’t go, Jay” gently answers Tim coming closer.
Tim knows that Jason hasn’t slept for days now. He can see it on his tense shoulders, he can see it in those torn lips, and he can see it in those empty stormy eyes.
It happens anytime Jason has to come too close to his murderer, every time he decided not to kill the Joker because he shouldn’t be the one finishing him off, not him, but Bruce.
Even if Jason is healed of his wounds, he is still broken inside. Deep bloody invisible wounds.
Death definitely would turn a man mad.
Tim gently puts his hands on the tense broad shoulders. Jason tensed even more, yelping like a wounded and cornered animal. Tim softly rubs against the warm skin to help him relax. Slowly, carefully, he takes place on the man’s lap.
“Don’t” whispers Jason.
“You know you want me to” hushes Tim, his gentle fingers playing with Jason’s shorter hair.
“Tim, just listen to me for once. I don’t want to hurt you anymore” Jason tries again.
“You know I want you to” smiles Tim.
He kissed the man before he could protest anymore.
Tim never complains about Jason’s rough ways, about those strong hands harsh handling him, about those lips punishing him for others’ crimes.
He doesn’t complain because even when Jason is violent when possessing him, he is always careful not to damage him, not to break him.
Jason needs the relief, Tim needs to be useful.
In the morning when Jason brings breakfast to Tim in bed, warm coffee with milk and toffee muffins, his very favorites, they never talk.
Jason never apologizes, never thanks with words.
Tim always pretends he didn’t hear Jason cried into his neck.
But they both know that when Jason is sleeping in Tim’s arms, the man never got nightmares.

Re: Jason/Tim (DC), Emotional

Date: 2010-09-05 03:00 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
<3 Thank you!!

I like how they fit together, even as broken as Jason is! It really worked, in this give-take way, and how Tim wanted to be useful. A SPOT-ON observation of their dynamic! Thank you for writing this for me!

Re: Jason/Tim (DC), Emotional

Date: 2010-09-06 07:07 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
You're more than welcome, hon!♥
I'm really glad to know that you liked that little ficlet^^
I feel so bad for Jason being so damaged and I think he really deserves someoone to try to fix him^^
From: [identity profile]
Dreams never translated well into reality. You tried to get what you wanted, and hoped that everything would turn out well and hoped someone else would share your dream. Gretchen had hoped her and Claire would turn out that way.

And they did, sort of. Claire had a bag full of issues, but in the little quiet in-between times, when she was being Claire and not Noah Bennet's Daughter or The Girl Who Jumped or The Granddaughter of Angela Petrelli, she was still Gretchen's Supergirl. She was the one that held her hand in public, kissed her when she came back from class, held tight to Gretchen in the night, both of them warm and relaxed with lovemaking.

It made Gretchen feel privileged. She knew how hard Claire worked to handle the "Special Situation." In between college classes, she was helping calm fears, talking with government officials and special interest groups, having meetings with her family and her father... and she still managed to come home every night. "Home" now was the Petrelli mansion, rather than the dorm. Privacy and security would have been impossible to obtain otherwise. Claire could take care of herself, but she didn't want anything to happen to Gretchen. Fine with her, the beds at the Petrelli manse were far more comfortable (and bigger!) than anything they could have gotten on campus.

While they had that together, it didn’t negate some of the precautions Claire had Gretchen take. She was subtle about it, but Gretchen knew she was having someone guard her every time she went out. Sometimes it was her uncle Peter, other times her father, Mr. Bennet. René sometimes shadowed her, and other times it was rotating hired guard in a distinctive black pea coat. At least at home, however, they could be as safe as possible, and finally alone.

"Hey." Gretchen looked up from her women's studies homework to see Claire walking in, a smile lighting up her face.

"I thought you'd be at a meeting until late!" Gretchen closed her books with relief and pulled her girlfriend down into a quick kiss.

"I got away. If I have to be super-responsible for one more minute, I'm going to scream."

"So, you want to be bad?" Gretchen said suggestively, raising an eyebrow. Claire was trussed up in a conservative suit, and she’d been on the run all day. It was time to throw caution to the winds for a while. Gretchen lay back on the bed and slid one hand under the waist of her jeans, loving the way Claire's eyes dilated when she did that.

“I could totally be down with that,” Claire husked, leaning over the bed to press her chest to Gretchen’s, the soft crush making her moan slightly. Gretchen flexed her fingers and ran them through Claire’s hair, and down to the collar of her jacket.

“Too many clothes,” Gretchen complained, tugging slightly.

Claire smiled against her mouth and pulled back enough to shrug out of her jacket. Gretchen took advantage to push up against her, getting enough space to work on the buttons of her blouse.

“I’m sorry I was away so long today. It’s not fair that you have to stay cooped up in here,” Claire murmured, slowly carding her fingers through Gretchen’s hair.

“Well, hey, I crushed on you first,” Gretchen pointed out, sliding off the blouse. Her fingers trailed down Claire’s arms as the cloth dropped away, and then returned to skim down her ribs and belly, circling her navel and watching gooseflesh break out all over.

Claire let out a shuddering breath and reached behind her back to unhook her bra, flinging it away like she couldn’t wait to be rid of it. Gretchen surged up immediately, hands gently cupping Claire’s naked breasts, her lips and tongue wrapping around one nipple, then the other, to tease them to hardness. Claire sucked in air in surprise, both her hands tangled in Gretchen’s hair, keeping her clasped to her breast.

“I don’t deserve you. Gretchen, God, who else would wait for me, who else would share me? Please, please, don’t stop!”

Gretchen didn’t bother to answer, just hugged Claire close, kissing up her breastbone and throat until she’d found her lips, and kissed her as hard as she could.

“I won’t, because you asked so nicely,” Gretchen said, grinning cheekily as Claire came up for air.

From: [identity profile]
Claire’s pupils were so wide that her eyes looked dark, and Gretchen had never seen her looking so wanting and open.

“I want to try something,” Claire blurted out, her fingers dancing around Gretchen’s belt, tugging at it ever-so-slightly. “Close your eyes?”

“I can do that.” Gretchen closed her eyes and let herself go loose as Claire rapidly pulled Gretchen’s clothes off her body, divesting her of shirt, pants, socks, and underwear so fast it was like she scarcely touched her.

“Turn around, please? On the bed?” Claire asked, sounding desperate. “No peeking!” she admonished, when Gretchen tried to sneak a glimpse.

“Ok, ok, oh-!” Gretchen silenced herself when she felt Claire’s fingers, slightly slick, slide between her legs, teasing her gently. Gretchen hung her head down, bracing her arms as she felt herself get wet under Claire’s skillful hand. “Yes, Claire! Please…”

She pulled away, but was back again before Gretchen could do more than sigh. Something slick, warm, and thick nudged at the entrance to Gretchen’s body, and she gasped and giggled at the same time.

“Oh my God, Claire, did you actually order that strap-on?” Gretchen asked, feeling her whole body tingle with excitement. Claire was so new to this, compared to Gretchen, that sometimes it took a lot of effort to introduce her to anything different. Gretchen had never been so glad that she’d made the effort to enlighten her girlfriend before.

Claire didn’t respond, other than leaning forward to drop a soft kiss on the small of Gretchen’s back as she slowly pushed in. It was warm, just thick enough to be exciting without being uncomfortable, with the realistic, soft skin that could only come from a really expensive product. Gretchen wondered if some of the pocket money Angela Petrelli provided her granddaughter had paid for this toy. The thought of that somehow made things just that much more fun.

Thought abruptly fled as Claire began to thrust shallowly, far more coordinated than any of Gretchen’s previous boyfriends. Panting and murmuring encouragement, Gretchen braced herself and helped Claire deeper, shoving back so Claire could get as much out of this as Gretchen was. She was deep now, and speeding up, her hands clutching Gretchen’s hips in a surprisingly firm grip, every stroke hitting deep and wonderful inside her.

“Claire, sweetie, so good. Yes, please, like that, please, Claire, harder!” Gretchen was moaning now, and not particularly caring if someone heard. Claire was doing something to rub her clit on every stroke, and never mind that she still had both hands on Gretchen’s hips, because pausing to think was the very last thing she wanted to do.

“Love you, Gretchen!” Claire managed to gasp, as Gretchen’s body seized around the toy, her orgasm breaking over her in wave after wave of pleasure. Open and boneless after her orgasm, Claire kept thrusting for another few strokes, drawing out Gretchen’s pleasure, until the thickness inside Gretchen’s body stiffened and spasmed, a rush of heat filling her.

Shocked, Gretchen’s eyes flew open and were drawn to the mirror above the bed. Behind her, the form of Claire was melting and shifting into a much taller, dark-haired man with thick eyebrows and heavy features. He wasn’t wearing anything but a look of combined panic and chagrin.

“Sylar?!” Gretchen demanded. Alternately blushing and paling, Sylar pulled away from Gretchen (her mind noted with relief that he had been wearing a condom, that he quickly disposed of), and started to grab at some of his, Claire’s, clothes on the floor. One of which, by the door, was a black pea coat.

A few dozen things came solidly into place, and Gretchen felt faint as she turned herself over on the bed to look at the once-killer.

“You’re the bodyguard,” Gretchen said with certainty. Sylar nodded, and abandoned the pretense of trying to dress. It wasn’t like they hadn’t already seen, or felt, all that the other had to offer. “And sometimes you’re Claire.” Another nod. “How long have you and I been…?”

“Four months,” Sylar said, his deeper voice shocking after only hearing Claire’s sweeter tones in her bedroom.
From: [identity profile]
“Oh my God.” Gretchen buried her head in her hands, outrage and betrayal making her shake. Four months dated back to the times in the evening when Claire had been willing to try anything beyond a little kissing and tentative touching. During the day, she still played the skittish virgin, but Gretchen had always chalked that up to the fact that she was in the public eye, and living in her grandmother’s house.

“Have you been comparing notes or something?” Gretchen demanded. “Are you practicing on me for her?”

“She’s… she wanted to be more for you,” Sylar said softly. “I… offered her a way.”

“You-.” Gretchen couldn’t even speak, she was so angry. But not at Sylar. Claire had been the one to take the offer, which Sylar might have felt obligated, in a fucked-up sort of way, to provide. Claire had told her Sylar had been bending over backwards to accommodate everyone he’d ever hurt in his quest for redemption, and he’d hurt her most of all. Or, Gretchen reflected, at least she thought Claire had told her. Maybe Sylar had only been explaining himself to her.

“She doesn’t want to… do anything?” Gretchen asked, almost pleading.

“I don’t know,” Sylar said, his face flushing with shame.

Gretchen was trying to keep herself from hyperventilating. Part of her wanted to scream at Sylar, to call Mr. Bennet and have him dragged out of here for how he’d deceived her and what he’d done to her. And part of her wanted to go find the real Claire, wherever she was, and demand to know what the hell she was thinking. Did she think so little of Gretchen that she’d let the man whom she still had nightmares about take her place in their intimacy? What kind of fucked-up relationship did Claire think she had that she had to resort to something like this?

“Did she tell you to say those things?” Gretchen asked, hugging her knees to her chest and letting her long hair hide her nude body. “Did she tell you what to say?”

“No.” Sylar closed his eyes for a second, and then fixed his dark gaze on Gretchen. “I said them-.” He stopped himself before he could go any farther, his hands restlessly curling and uncurling at his sides. “I’m sorry.” He looked devastated when he said it, absolutely despondent, and turned back to grabbing his clothes. Without another word, he slipped out the door.

Gretchen bit down on her wrist to try to keep herself from crying, failed, and made two pillows soggy with her tears by the time exhaustion finally claimed her. Claire climbed in with her at around midnight. Gretchen didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.


The next morning, Claire saw her at breakfast, chipper and cheerful. She didn’t seem to notice Gretchen’s short, monotone answers, and dashed off to an early meeting without more than a brief kiss to her girlfriend. As usual, Angela Petrelli politely ignored the display. Not as usual, Sylar came down to get his morning coffee.

Gretchen found herself staring at him, and couldn’t seem to make herself stop. From the blush on Sylar’s cheeks, he was more than aware of her scrutiny.


That night, Claire came to Gretchen’s room wearing a black pea coat.

At a fierce shake of Gretchen’s head, Sylar dropped the disguise and reached out a hand towards her. Tentatively, open. Slow enough for her to stab him, if she felt so inclined.

Instead, Gretchen turned back towards the mirror and watched as Sylar stripped them both with hands and mind both, making no pretense tonight of being anything other than who he was.

“I don’t deserve you,” Sylar murmured into her ear, his hands trailing down her sides to rest on her hips.

“Neither does she,” Gretchen said, her voice ragged and uneven.

“Okay.” Sylar breathed the word so quietly, she almost didn’t hear him. So she clamped her hands atop his and pushed back against his body.

With a soft curse, Sylar touched her more firmly, bending her over, opening her up, the heat of her anger making her more than ready.

Ready as she should have been for Claire. Who, if she ever got her courage, would have to earn as much of Gretchen’s respect as the serial killer who loved her.
From: [identity profile]


I love what this says about...every. single. character. Psychologically, this is very perfect for Sylar, for Gretchen (who had seemed happy until...), and especially Claire. I think that really stood out that she'd be distant and unwilling to get hurt--sometimes I feel sorry for that character, and what it does to her relationships, and this is a prime example of her thoughtlessness(controlling nature? I'm never sure what to call this quality of Claire's) that shines through some times.

I love Sylar's...mind in this too. Because he did what he did to please but then he started to like Gretchen in so many ways, and the situation was already so destructive...I love Gretchen in this, getting on her feet again and being properly angry. The dynamic turned on its head, and in that, it was a fulfilling fic in many ways. <3

Thank you for writing this for me. I'll also recc! it to [ profile] superkappa who loves this pairing too. It's an absolutely awesome take on it!
From: [identity profile]
I'm so very glad that you like it! It was really fascinating to write, and I loved getting into Gretchen's head about this whole thoroughly screwed-up thing that she's in.


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