| James in a hundred prompts; Het/Gen | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: Nov 5 2011, 01:23 PM (789 Views) | |
| Broken, Beat & Scarred | Nov 5 2011, 01:23 PM Post #1 |
Thorn Within
|
Hey all! I've been wanting to write one-shots / short fics based on prompts for a long time now and I've never managed to start. Until now. Or yesterday, but anyway. Thought I'd post what I've gotten done. I found a ton of prompts tables with the help of my good friend Google (and right now I have like a thousand prompts waiting for me haha) and I'm trying to write at least one story a day. My stories, as you may have gathered from the title, revolve around James and so far all stories I've written also feature a 'she', unnamed at least for the time being. She may be the same she in all the stories... or not. I still don't know if I want to write her in all the stories or not. I'll figure it out as I go along. There is no chronological order to the stories, or well, to put it another way, I'm posting the stories in the same order as I write them, as in prompt #1, prompt #2 etc. If you want to assume that the characters are always the same, you would probably eventually be able to put all stories in a chronological order. Aaaaaanyhoo, I'll try to post a story every day or two and if you like what you've read, let me know and I'll post more.  Disclaimer: I do not know Metallica or their families and I am not in any way affiliated with them. I intend no harm to the people who appear in this story. I do not get any profit from posting and writing these short fan fiction stories, which, for the record, are purely fiction. I do own my own original characters in these stories. ---- 001. Crash Crash – a simple word. Crash – a simple event. Simple in many ways. But also… In many ways the end of the world. Crash. As he stood there, in front of the church, he could barely comprehend what was happening. She stood right next to him, silently. She knew that he couldn’t talk. He wanted to. No, he needed to. But not now. He couldn’t. She took him by the hand and slowly took a step ahead, toward the building. He stood still, not wanting to follow her, but as she kept tugging at his hand, he finally gave in. With his eyes cast to the ground, they ascended the steps up to the doors. He stopped there, unable to walk further. She squeezed his hand in support, speaking quietly, “Come on, James, you need to do this for him.” He shook his head. He felt the tears again. He tried turning around, but she wouldn’t let him. “I don’t want to either, but if we don’t go in… We’ll both hate each other for the rest of our lives.” She took the last step into the church. He followed behind her. He knew the pews were filled with people, but he didn’t look at them. He let her walk him to the front of the church and was relieved when he could sit down next to her. He wanted to close this out, to drown out all the noises, images and thoughts, but when he did that… He could see it all again. First, they were happy, glad to be on the tour. Adrenaline rush from the previous gig. Nervousness about the next. Then. Crash. Screams. Cold. Rumbling. Falling. He felt her gripping his hand harder. He glanced around him, seeing that the other two men were also walking toward their seats. They scooted down the pew, letting the other two sit down. They had come alone. Maybe he should have, too. He glanced at her then. Her lips were quivering as she looked at the altar. He still hadn’t looked there. He couldn’t. She belonged here. With him. She had put up with his drinking, yelling, anger, grief, crying. Everything. And she had been his friend, too. She was right to be here. “It should have been me,” the dark haired man whispered next to him. “It shouldn’t have been any of you,” the woman said strongly. Her tone of voice insinuated that she would not accept any arguments. “Point taken,” the dark haired man conceded. “He should be here with us.” The priest started speaking and they fell silent. He still hadn’t had the heart to look at the altar, at the coffin. She leaned toward him, whispering in his ear. “I love you, remember that.” He nodded, squeezing her hand. He had yet to say those words to her, even if they were true. "To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven,” the priest spoke, “A time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted. A time to kill and a time to heal, a time to break down and a time to build up. A time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance.” He stopped listening to the priest then. He knew the words by heart. He had been asked to read them as a young teenager, and they had stuck. There was a time, he knew, to forget and to move on. He wished from the bottom of his heart that Cliff was somewhere, looking after him and his friends. Their friends. The three of the four brothers in arms. The ones that had survived the crash. Edited by Broken, Beat & Scarred, Dec 29 2011, 05:58 AM.
|
 |
 
|
| namenlos | Nov 7 2011, 11:01 AM Post #2 |
Was auch immer
|
It was sad and emotional, but I liked it. I would love to read some more of your prompts.
|
|
|
| Broken, Beat & Scarred | Nov 7 2011, 12:53 PM Post #3 |
|
Thorn Within
|
Hey Lori! Miigwech, thanks for your comment! (It's been clearly way too long since I've tried to think of any words in Ojibwe since it took me like five minutes to remember how to say thanks haha). Here's another prompt-story-thingy. Hope you girls like this one, too. Let me know. Feedback / comments are always more than welcome. 002. Dim He opened the door as silently as he could. He had already taken his shoes off before, hoping he silently could walk to his bedroom. Their bedroom. He’d promised her to be home by dinner and it was past midnight now. Meaning… He’d missed dinner. Again. He closed the door behind him, locking it, and made his way upstairs to his, damn, their room. The lights were out, as he suspected. The street lights outside cast dim light into the room. He saw a figure on the bed, under the covers. She must have gone to bed after she had gotten tired of waiting for him. He set his shoes next to the dresser, took off his jeans and tee, tossing them toward the chair. He slipped under the covers and looked at the woman lying there next to him. She was sleeping peacefully. His eyes had adjusted to the dimness and he could see she was smiling in her sleep. He wondered what she was dreaming about. He leaned over to kiss her forehead and cursed silently in his head as her eyes fluttered open. “James?” “Shh, go back to sleep. I didn’t mean to wake you.” “You missed dinner.” “I’m sorry. Go back to sleep, it’s late.” She sat up and turned on the night light. “Where were you?” “The guys wanted to listen to the album and talk about it. Then listen to it again. I should have called.” He looked at her in the eyes and a few seconds later let his gaze travel south. She wasn’t wearing the usual night shirt, but the silky, somewhat see-through chemise he loved. She must have had something planned for dessert, he thought and smiled at her. “You should have called,” she confirmed. “What did you have for dinner?” he asked innocently, while he sat up, too. “Oh, just some pasta.” “Uh-huh… And dessert?” She looked at him and seeing the lust in his eyes, she moved slightly, letting the bed covers fall down, as if by accident. “It would have been rude to have dessert without you,” she purred. He could see the outlines of her hardened nipples through the chemise. “I see.” He moved closer to her and gave her a soft kiss. “You still hungry?” She responded by kissing him harder. He let his hands roam over her chest, thumbs circling her nipples. She moaned softly into his mouth, making him hornier. He straddled her, kissing her breasts through the thin fabric. Her fingers gripped his hair as she lifted her chest closer to him. He pulled back from her. He was on his knees as he ran a hand up her leg. He swallowed, involuntarily, as his fingers reached the hem of her nightwear but never met her panties. He lifted her up so that she was on her knees as well, before taking the chemise off. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her as they kissed. He let his hand fall down to grab her butt. She withdrew from him. “What are you doing?” he asked, breathing heavier than normally. He wasn’t sure if she looked pissed off or angry or… happy? She was smiling at him. “I prefer the dim lighting,” she said, switching the light off before kissing him again. |
|
|
| Burnout | Nov 7 2011, 03:18 PM Post #4 |
Commando
|
Woah!  I like this a lot!!  but one question, I'm a bit confused You write a lot of short stories that don't have anything to do with each other out of a word or a phrase, right? Sorry to nag with this, but I'm kind of confused with that... But I love this and I can't wait for the third one! 
|
|
|
| namenlos | Nov 7 2011, 07:40 PM Post #5 |
|
Was auch immer
|
Very nice, just the right amount of sexy. And haha, I usually have to think hard to remember my Ojibwe as well. 
|
|
|
| Broken, Beat & Scarred | Nov 7 2011, 11:15 PM Post #6 |
|
Thorn Within
|
Don't worry about asking! And I wouldn't consider that nagging, either. But essentially, yes, that is how it works. You have a list of words or phrases, prompts that is, and you write whatever comes to your mind. There's no rule that says that the stories can't be related to each other, but I guess most often people write ones that don't require a continuation, so, one-shots. All of mine (=the ones I'll post in this thread) will feature James, though, so, in this case they do have something to do with each other. I am also planning a longer story based on a list of prompts, which I'd organize to make a chronologically advancing story line... But I don't think I'll start working on that one until after I've finished these prompts AND Too Late, Too Late. I'll post the third one once I get home from work... Which may take a while since I haven't officially started work yet. Haha. |
|
|
| Broken, Beat & Scarred | Nov 8 2011, 01:12 PM Post #7 |
|
Thorn Within
|
Alright, thanks for commenting Burnout (I'm afraid I don't know / can't remember your name) and Lori! I have the third prompt here, it's somewhat along the same lines as the previous one... or not, but hope you enjoy, do let me know. (After seeing the prompt, all I could think about was the phrase "Resistance is futile" haha) 003. Futile They were sitting on the big couch, watching a movie on television. He was bored, but she seemed to be into the movie. Slowly, James sneaked his hand to her thigh, rubbing it slowly. She swatted at his hand. “Come on, I want to see this movie.” “I’d rather look at something else,” he said suggestively, ignoring her swatting. “Can’t you wait… uh… thirty minutes?” she asked, while he was already kissing her neck. His fingers slipped under her shirt and his lips kissed a line from her shoulder to her ear. She pushed him away from him, straightening her shirt, and took a deep breath. “While I wasn’t exactly disliking what you were doing… I really want to finish the movie. Please, baby, wait the damn thirty minutes!” “Someone’s getting a little testy,” he said chuckling. “But fine, I’ll wait the damn thirty minutes.” She turned back to the television, but had she seen the smirk on his face, she would have known he was lying. He loved teasing her like this. And he knew that she’d give in and miss, oh, at least the last twenty minutes of the movie. He pretended to watch the movie as he draped his arm over her shoulders. She snuggled closer to him as he non-chalantly placed his fingers on her right breast. He made circles around her nipple until he could feel it harden. He pinched it lightly, while kissing her neck. She was glad the commercials came on as she had a hard time focusing on the movie while James was trying to distract her – and doing so well at it. “Your resistance is futile,” he whispered into her ear, biting her earlobe softly. She giggled. She straddled him and looked him in the eyes. “Will you buy me the movie on DVD?” He cocked his eyebrow at her. His gaze lowered to her abdomen, where her hands were gripping the hem of her shirt. “Well?” “Fine.” He watched eagerly as the rising shirt revealed her navel, then the bottom of her lacy bra and… covered it all. He looked up at the woman who suddenly got up and sat back down next to him. He was baffled. This certainly had never happened before. She glanced at him and brought her lips close to his ear. First, she bit his earlobe and then whispered, “I guess your attempts were futile as well. Now wait the damn twenty minutes. And thanks for my present.” He couldn't help but laugh. |
|
|
| namenlos | Nov 8 2011, 07:22 PM Post #8 |
|
Was auch immer
|
Haha, when it comes to James, resistance is definitely futile.
|
|
|
| Some_Kind_Of_Monster | Nov 12 2011, 10:58 AM Post #9 |
☠ (R.I.P) † Return Is Possible †
|
so true cool fic
|
|
|
| Broken, Beat & Scarred | Dec 10 2011, 05:00 AM Post #10 |
|
Thorn Within
|
Thanks for your comments, Lori and Kasia! Funny how something always happens when I start writing, as I said before I was going to post one prompt for day, and write at least one per day... And here I am, a month after the last prompt I wrote. Haha. Well, at least I have another little story ready and here it is. Do let me know what you thought. 004. Erratic She had behaved erratically all week. He'd brought her flowers one night, after missing their dinner date because he had been stuck at the studio. She'd looked clearly upset and had retired to her home office for the rest of the evening, and had gone to bed without telling him she was going to do that. He'd gotten yelled at for leaving a bottle of beer on the living room table. Granted, the bottle had been there along with five others and they had been on the table for two whole days until she'd cleared them away. That wasn't the erratic part. What was strange that after he apologized, she'd started to cry softly. Usually she huffed and puffed for a few days and slowly got back to normal. She seemed to be overly emotional all the time. If it wasn't crying, it was laughing. One morning, when he was all grumpy, she giggled at him as he attempted to make breakfast. Normally, she sympathetically told him to relax and she prepared breakfast. When he asked her what was she so happy about, she said she wasn't. Very odd behavior. Uncharacteristic. Of her. That night she seemed to be on the edge again. She was too apologetic. She apologized for not having dinner ready and served when he got home. She apologized for forgetting to buy milk. She apologized for her behavior. She apologized for everything. “What's going on?” he asked her. He was worried. “I'm sorry, James. I... I'm sorry I'm doing this.” As he said nothing, she asked him to follow her to their bathroom. Erratic. Really. Once there, she handed him a stick. “Is this...?” he asked. She nodded, biting her lip. He said nothing, just stared at her. Tears clouded her eyes, again, and she opened her mouth, probably readying herself to offer him yet another apology. He kissed her fiercely before she managed to get a word out. “I love you,” he whispered, as they parted. “And I'm happy we're pregnant.” “I didn't know if you would be...” “That's why you've been so odd all this week.” She nodded and he kissed her again. |
|
|
| namenlos | Dec 10 2011, 11:04 AM Post #11 |
|
Was auch immer
|
I love it, it's so sweet.
|
|
|
| Broken, Beat & Scarred | Dec 13 2011, 05:08 PM Post #12 |
|
Thorn Within
|
Thanks for commenting, Lori! I don't know if anyone else has had the same problem, but I've barely been able to access the forum the past couple of days. It's worked for about half an hour and then suddenly the forum's down... But now that it's working, here's another story. And I have unofficially started by Christmas break today, so, I hope to have more time to write my fics since I don't have to write my thesis haha.Enjoy! 005. Loved They were sitting side by side, neither one of them happy with the current situation. Yet another argument, a couple of hurtful words thrown around, each side as guilty as the other. Neither wanted to be the first to apologize, to give in. A minute passed. Then two. Five. Ten. James sighed. “Fine.” He glanced at the man sitting next to him. “I'll go first. I'm sorry. I'm a dick.” “Yeah. You are.” “So?” “Guess that makes two of us,” Lars mused. “I went a little overboard with everything I said.” “You didn't need to bring her into the argument.” “I know. But you do seem to listen to her more.” “Maybe she makes more sense.” “Or maybe you love her.” James looked at Lars for a moment. “I love you guys too.” “Do you?” He nodded. “It may not seem like it, I know. But you've saved my life time and time again. Brothers in arms, right?” “Right.” They sat side by side, no longer uncomfortable with the situation, rather enjoying the silence. It was a good feeling, James thought, being loved. |
|
|
| namenlos | Dec 13 2011, 06:30 PM Post #13 |
|
Was auch immer
|
Fixed.  JK
|
|
|
| Broken, Beat & Scarred | Dec 15 2011, 01:22 PM Post #14 |
|
Thorn Within
|
Lori: LOL Not my type of correction, but good if it works for you. And thanks for reading and commenting! Here's another prompt before the board goes offline... 006. Soft He'd had a crappy day. Or a week. Really, a crappy year. What the hell, he'd had a crappy life. Apart from Metallica. That was the only good thing he had going for him. Metallica. He didn't want to think about anything else. Or anyone else, actually. At least, not her. Fuck. He'd thought about her again. He opened a beer bottle and took a swig. That helped. He heard the key turn in the lock and he cursed. He finished his beer quickly and opened another. Maybe if he was drunk, she'd leave. She made him happier and he couldn't deal with that. He didn't know what to do with her. She was so good to him and he wasn't. He wished he'd have started drinking an hour earlier, that way he could have been drunk by now. And she might have left him alone. Or left him altogether. That was what she would end up doing eventually, so, he could just fuck everything up himself and help her get it over with. That was an asshole move, but what else could he do? ”Hey James, are you home?” she asked, turning on the kitchen lights. ”Yeah,” he replied, hoping she wouldn't come find her. He wanted to be alone. To feel that he was all alone in the world. That no-one cared. That would have been better. She turned on a lamp on the desk and let the bigger light stay off. ”How was your day?” ”Fine,” he muttered. ”I bumped into Lars when I was in the store and he said you'd been a dick today.” ”Fuck him.” She sat down next to him and took his beer from him. ”And fuck you, gimme the bottle back.” He looked at her, annoyed. But seeing the sad look on her face... He opened his mouth to say sorry, but nothing came out. He didn't have to do this to her. He shouldn't act like this toward her. She bit her lip, and he was afraid she was going to start crying. That was the last thing he wanted. Well, second to last. The last thing he wanted was that she'd tell him it was over. That they were over. ”I'm going to be frank. You're an asshole. And quite often, you do act like a dick.” He lowered his gaze, ashamed of himself. She took his hand and squeezed it. ”I know the past year has been tough on you and I've taken a lot of shit from you as a result. But there comes a time when you've had enough. And this is it for me. If your goal in life is to get drunk every day, to insult your friends everyday and to make me feel like shit, every single day, then guess what? You're doing a pretty damn good job at it. But what you're doing... It's only driving a wedge between you and the people that care about you.” She was quiet for a while, letting him take in her words. ”And listen, you're not the only one that was affected by it. We all knew Cliff. We all loved him, we all miss him. I don't want to tell you to just get over it, I understand that you need time, but this grieving process you're going through... I don't know if it works for you, but it doesn't work for the rest of us.” He nodded. That was all he could do. He knew that if he said a word, she'd hear that he was on the verge of tears. And he didn't want to start crying in front of her. He wasn't soft, a pussy. He was a man, he'd handle his problems. And one of the problems was going to come up next, he knew. She'd say that she was done with him. He knew it. He'd been waiting for her to say the words. He didn't really want her to say them, but he'd managed to make himself believe that he did. ”Now, I'm going to go get started on dinner, and while I do that, I want you to clean up in here and then change the sheets. The bed stinks. And I'm not sleeping in that bed until you've done something about it.” ”What?” He hated how his voice sounded. It wasn't his. It was thick and hoarse. ”You heard me.” ”You're not breaking up with me?” She looked at him for a while, seeing the pain he was in. She knew he was scared of his own feelings, the love he felt for her, the fear he felt because of the love, the grief. ”Would you want me to?” ”... no.” ”I love you, James Alan Hetfield.” That did it for him. The tears fell down his cheeks and he started to get up from the couch, to hide from her so that she wouldn't see him that weak. But she grabbed his arm and didn't let him go. Instead, she pulled him to her, kissing his cheek and let him cry there. Wasn't she supposed to scold him for crying? For being weak, for being soft? That's what had always been done to him when he'd cried as a younger man, a boy. ”Oh baby, no. You're not weak,” she whispered. He hadn't realized he'd spoken the words out loud. ”Crying doesn't mean you're weak. It makes you strong. It means you're strong enough to let your heart be in charge every once in a while. And it doesn't make you soft, either. There's nothing wrong with being soft. I know you don't think that, and I know that you like to think you're not soft, but on the inside... You have soft spots. I've seen them. They're one of the reasons I love you.” ”I love you,” he mumbled. ”What was that?” He cleared his throat and looked at her in the eyes. He was scared. I tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but he couldn't. Finally, after some hesitation, he said, ”I love you.” He watched the smile appear on her face and he felt amazing. It wasn't scary anymore, and he didn't feel like he had before. He felt strong. And a little soft. But maybe that wasn't so bad after all. |
|
|
| namenlos | Dec 17 2011, 09:29 PM Post #15 |
|
Was auch immer
|
It's not really my type of correction any more, either... kind of lost my taste for Metallica slash.  Aww... this one melted my heart!
|
|
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
|
|
| Go to Next Page | |
| « Previous Topic · Active Metallica Fan Fictions · Next Topic » |
6:11 AM May 22