Friday: play that funky music!

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

Hello, everyone. I’m nagi_schwarz and thank you to everyone who’s left prompts and filled prompts so far! Today's theme is music!. Prompts can be anything music-related, from a music/band AU to your characters listening to music or playing a musical instrument or debating their tasted in music.

Just a few rules:
No more than five prompts in a row.
No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
Use the character's full names and the fandom's full name
No spoilers in prompts for a month after airing, or use the spoiler cut option found here.
If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space, or use the above-mentioned spoiler cut.

Prompts should be formatted as follows: [Use the character's full names and fandom's full name]
Fandom, Character +/ Character, Prompt

Some examples to get the ball rolling...
+ Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard +/ Rodney McKay, “Do you listen to anything besides Johnny Cash?”
+ BBC Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes, playing the violin
+ MI-5|Spooks, any, going undercover as a band

We are now using AO3 to bookmark filled prompts. If you fill a prompt and post it to AO3 please add it to the Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2023 collection. See further notes on this new option here.

Not feeling any of today’s prompts? You can use LJ’s advanced search options to limit keyword results to only comments in this community.

While the use of LJ's advanced search options is available, bookmarking the links of prompts you like might work better for searching in the future.

Comments

[schweinsty.livejournal.com]

MCU, any, Orchestra (symphony or chamber) AU

[schweinsty.livejournal.com]

Stargate: SG-1 & Atlantis, any, Professors/staff of the department of music at a university/college AU

Fill1/2: really just Jack and Daniel though

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

Daniel always liked to sit in the back of Jack’s class on the first day of the semester just to watch the students be utterly confused at the man who was standing at the lectern wearing a t-shirt and flannel overshirt and old jeans and looked like he should be fishing at a cabin in Minnesota, not teaching the fundamentals of vocal performance.

Jack was used to the routine, and he nodded at Daniel before he started shuffling papers at the lectern — class roll, syllabus, other admin things he hated and that he always got through as fast as possible.
Daniel could always spot the vocal performance majors a mile away, because they all had textbook classic posture, but they didn’t walk with quite the same physical confidence as the practical dance majors.

On the first day of class, the eager, bright-eyed freshmen were looking to impress, and half of them were in clothes Daniel would only wear to an audition.

All of them paused in the doorway and did a double take at Jack, who just offered them his half-smile, the one that said, I’m just as confused as you are about why I’m here. The students tip-toed to their seats, exchanging looks with each other.

What’s up with this guy?

Daniel taught music history and linguistics for the classical performance majors — German, Latin, Italian, and French. He also looked the part of a professor, in a tweed jacket, button-down shirt, and slacks.

Jack rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and glanced at the clock. “Well, this is the official start time for this lecture, so I guess we’ll get started. This is fundamentals of operatic technique. You all in the right room?”

One boy cursed and darted out the door, dragging a violin case with him.

“Shame,” Jack said. “He looked like such a nice guy. I’m Jack —”

One girl raised her hand. “I thought this class was being taught by Professor Jonathan O’Neill?”

“I prefer Jack,” he said. “We’re gonna be singing a lot. Don’t waste your breath on three syllables when you can use it on one.”

The girl lowered her hand, looking confused.

The girls on either side of her shrugged.

“Here’s the roll. Sign your name. If you forge for a classmate, that’s on you. Your performance at the end of the semester is what matters anyway. And here’s the syllabus. Take one and pass it along.” Jack handed the stack of papers to a boy in the front row. “Now, for the good stuff. Since it’s the first day of class, I need to see where you all stand. Included with the syllabus is a short piece. There are variations for each of the four standard vocal ranges, so sing where you feel most comfortable.”

None of the students looked comfortable.

“We’re going to assess your technique and your performance skills — your stage presence, that kind of thing.” Jack jabbed a finger at his own copy of the roll. “Da Rosa, Jacqueline. On your feet.”

A girl from the middle of the classroom rose slowly, smoothing down her skirt with nervous hands. “Yes?”

[schweinsty.livejournal.com]

Killjoys, Johnny Jaqobi + any, strong opinions on music

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard +/ Rodney McKay, “Do you listen to anything besides Johnny Cash?”

Fill 1/2

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Rodney thought John was overly attached to the puddlejumpers, but that was nothing compared to the loving caresses he was giving the car he’d just pulled out of some guy’s barn.

“She looks great,” John said, hand following the curve of the hood. “You took real good care of her.”

“She’s a big hit on the classic car circuit,” the guy replied. From the grease etched into the lines and cracks of his hands, Rodney figured he must be some sort of mechanic.

Rodney wasn’t a car guy. Yes, he could talk intelligently about engines and drive systems, but a car was simply a way to get from point A to point B. He didn’t develop attachments to them, or drool over them the way a certain Colonel was currently doing.

“This car was the first real thing I ever bought with my own money,” John said, presumably for Rodney’s benefit since the other guy already seemed well acquainted with it. “I restored her from top to bottom, inside and out.”

If Rodney had ever had an occasion to wonder about what kind of car John would drive, he would’ve guessed something like this. Black and sleek, with two wide white stripes on the hood. And John hadn’t been able to part with it, even when he thought he was taking a one-way trip to another galaxy.

“What is it?” Rodney asked, ignoring the other guy’s shocked expression. Like all men instinctually knew makes and models of every car.

“’77 Chevelle,” John replied, and he grinned at Rodney. “Time for you two to get acquainted.”

Which meant it was time to start the road trip John had somehow convinced Rodney to take with him. There were plenty of other, more important, things they could be doing. Not the least of which was continuing to make their pitch to the IOA about why it was vital to send Atlantis back to Pegasus.

Maybe John had gotten burnt out from the countless meetings the SGC had dragged him around to. And, well, Rodney had a hard time saying no to him, especially when he was being sincere.

While John had a few more words with his friend, Rodney slid into the front seat. There was a tape deck that wasn’t remotely original to the year of the Chevelle, and a box of cassettes in the middle of the black leather bench seat. Rodney popped it open, dismayed yet unsurprised to see they were all Johnny Cash albums.

At Folsom Prison. Orange Blossom Special. Unchained. Ride This Train. Man in Black. The Rambler. One Piece at a Time. Johnny Cash and His Woman. Any Old Wind That Blows. Even something improbably titled The Johnny Cash Children’s Album.

“Don’t you listen to anything besides Johnny Cash?” Rodney asked as soon as John was behind the wheel.

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

BBC Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes, playing the violin

Fill: Drabble

[thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com]

“What’s that you’re playing?” Stanley Hopkins asked. “Is it one of your own compositions?”

Sherlock laughed. “I wish it was. No, it’s a Nocturne by Lili Boulanger.”

“It’s very restful. Do I take it you’ve solved the case?”

“Not yet. I need to clear my head, so I’m focussing on learning a new piece. Do you want me to stop?”

“No, play it again. I liked it.”

“All right. Tell me when you’ve had enough, and we’ll go back to discussing the case.”

Stanley stretched out on the sofa and as Sherlock played through the Nocturne again, he fell asleep.

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

MI-5|Spooks, any, going undercover as a band

Fill:

[thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com]

“And you’re convinced this will work,” Ros Myers said.

“No, frankly I’m not,” Adam Carter replied, “but I can’t think of any other way of getting us all into the place, and we do all need to be there.”

“We won’t have long. We only have six songs and two of those are rather dubious. I’ve never really played a keyboard and my piano playing days were a long time ago.”

“If all else fails, Tariq will just have to play the drums very loudly, while Jo rattles her tambourine.”

Tariq snorted and Jo said, “I always hated performing as a child, that’s why I gave up dance classes. And now you’re expecting me to sing when I’m not even sure I’ll remember the words.”

“Don’t worry,” Tariq said, “being judged on the standard of your performance is going to be one of the least of your worries.”

“Believe me,” Lucas added, “you cannot be worse than Adam’s guitar playing. There were times when we were practising last night when I wondered whether we were playing the same song.”

“Thank you for that vote of confidence,” Adam said.

“Right, well it’s time we made our entrance,” Ros said. “What are we going to begin with?”

Lucas grinned, “Mamma Mia, here I go again.”

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

Any, any, karaoke champion

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

Any, any, drunken lullabies (Flogging Molly)

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Stargate Atlantis, Rodney McKay +/ any, he never stopped playing piano

Fill 1/2: Rodney + OMC

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

Rodney hadn’t expected to miss playing the piano quite as much as he did, but everyone had only been allowed to bring one shoe box of personal possessions for their trip through the gate. Rodney had brought an mp3 player loaded with all his favorite piano pieces, and at the end of a long day he’d put on his headphones and play along. Air piano was not nearly as fun or cool as air guitar or air drums, but he didn’t care. He missed the melancholy of Chopin and the dreaminess of Debussy and the mathematical playfulness of Bach.

And then late one night, after overtime at the lab, he heard it.

Piano music.

Rodney drifted toward the sound instinctively, heart racing. It wasn’t a recording. Or if it was, whoever was being recorded wasn’t very good, because there were fumbled notes. As Rodney stalked through the corridor, searching for the sound, he almost didn’t realize that his own fingers were moving, following the notes, knowing where they’d go next, because he knew the rules of harmonics and melody as well as he knew the laws of physics. A good pop song always came home. The chord sequence had to resolve.

He rounded a corner — and there, a Marine was sitting on the floor beside a mop bucket, staring and tapping at a small device.

It took Rodney a moment before he recognized the device. It was one of those fancy new smartphones. Pointless in a galaxy that had no cellular network, except —

Except this one had a piano on the screen, and the Marine — dark-skinned, dark-eyed, blank-faced, hollow-eyed — was poking at the keys.

“Where did you get that?” Rodney demanded.

The man lifted his head and blinked. “Doc? Oh. Brought it with me from Earth.”

Obviously went unspoken.

“Smartphones have pianos on them?”

“All kinds of stuff. Why?”

“I just — there was no way for me to bring a piano with me. I miss playing. I heard you playing and — I’m sorry.” Rodney turned to go.
The Marine held out the little rectangular device. “You wanna play? I’m sure you’re better than me anyway.”

Rodney barely restrained himself from snatching the device from the man, accepting it carefully instead. “Why’d you bring it if you don’t play?”

“My daughter liked to play.”

Rodney eyed the man. “Why’d you come on a one-way trip if you have a daughter on Earth?”

“Don’t have a daughter anymore.”

Rodney didn’t know what to say. Finally he said, “Was she any good at playing? Your daughter.”

“She was only three. She just liked to mash on the keys a lot, you know? She was so excited when I got this phone. She thought it was magic.”

Here Rodney was in a whole other galaxy in an advanced alien city, and the device in his hand definitely seemed like magic. He studied the Marine for a long moment.

“Any requests?”

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Any, any ensemble, being part of a popular boy band

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Any Sentinel fusion, any, experiencing music differently with enhanced senses

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Stargate multiverse, any, offworld ritual that focuses on music

Filled! A Night Off - Markham/Stackhouse/(+everyone) + John & Rodney - PG - 1/2

[squidgiepdx]

John liked it when the Athosians had harvest festivals that had ritual chanting, something called 'throat singing' that kind of creeped him out, and an assortment of instruments that sounded like giant lutes. And then the Marines had introduced the Athosians to the wonders of a karaoke machine - complete with Athosian-translated lyrics - and it had somehow devolved from there, growing further and further with each festival.

Earlier in the evening, when the young ones were about, and before most Stargate leadership had headed back to Atlantis, the traditional music and then 'appropriate use' of the karaoke machine filled the evening's festivities. And then, as darkness fell and the alcohol flowed, somehow karaoke had turned into 'Truth or karaoke', and then further delved into 'Truth or strip-karaoke'.

Which was how John Sheppard, bolstered by a couple strong Athosian ales, stood behind the karaoke machine in his uniform shirt, boxers, and his boots. And he'd only stood there because Ronon had threatened to strip John if he didn't take his turn.

"Wait. Don't let my CO give me an erection," Stackhouse called. "That would be the weirdest boner ever."

"Oh, like Lieutenant Colonel SlinkyHips hasn't given us all a boner at least once," came a voice. John looked out, automatically flipping off first Stackhouse, then let his eyes focus on one of the dark haired, lanky scientists who'd provided the voice. "Doctor Parrish?"

"Guilty!" Parrish said, then leaned his head back in laughter.

"Yeah, well, fuck you, too," John said as he flipped him off.

John watched as Parrish smiled, and followed his gaze. "Not quite my type," Parrish said. And though he'd said it to John, he was holding Lorne's gaze.

And wasn't that interesting.

John walked over, grabbed his bottle, and took another slug or two of ale. After, he handed his bottle to Rodney, popped his back, and walked back to the microphone.

"Come on, guys," John said, "Don't you think it's about time we break this up and go back?"

The round of boos told him no.

Markham took his spot as emcee in front of John, grabbing the microphone. "Truth or stripperoke, Shep?" he asked. He only slurred his words a bit.

John sighed as he pulled at his uniform top. "Like I'm giving any of you perverts any more skin." He smirked. "Truth."

The predatory smile on Markham's face told John that he'd chosen...poorly. "Tell everyone here the name of the person from the expedition that you're crushing on."

Suddenly that slug of ale didn't sit so well in his stomach.

After a beat, John said, "Fine." He unbuttoned the remaining buttons of his uniform and tossed it at Markham's head.

That should have been the end of it, but Markham made a scene of sniffing the armpits of John's shirt. "Oh Jesus," John said as he grabbed the microphone. He raised a leg and, with a gentle shove, booted Markham off the stage area where he conveniently landed on one of the scientists.

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Prodigal Son, ensemble, the different ways the team integrates music into their lives

[cornerofmadness.livejournal.com]

The Owl House Hunter + Raine Whispers, he would eavesdrop on Raine playing and then gets caught

[cornerofmadness.livejournal.com]

Star Trek (original) Spock + Uhura + any, He'd never admit it but playing harp in the rec room with Uhura is the highlight of his week

[cornerofmadness.livejournal.com]

Buffy the Vampire Slayer, any, a siren is singing on the beach

Fill 1/2: mostly Spike and an OC

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

Buffy and her friends having a bonfire on the beach was probably the ideal way to celebrate, Spike supposed. Teenage fun, junk food roasted over an open flame, and fire kept the vampires away.

Spike was hardly the kind of man to sulk as he watched the dancing flames from a distance, heard Xander and Willow laughing. The wind shifted, bringing with it the scent of the sea and driving the smoke toward Buffy, who yelped and scrambled away.

That was so when Spike heard the singing.

The voice was honey-sweet and clear, and Spike felt something in his chest tug. His feet began to move, and he walked across the sand, following the voice till he was halfway down the beach. The bonfire was barely a speck in the distance, and there, under the silver of the full moon, was a boy.

He was sitting on the sand, knees drawn to his chest, and singing to the waves and the night sky. He was uncaring of the wind whipping his black hair around his face, of the spray stinging his face.

Spike couldn’t understand the lyrics of the song, but he didn’t need to, because the boy’s voice was ringing with melancholy and heartbreak.

Spike wanted to walk into the waves and drown himself in sorrow.

He turned and stepped into the water.

The singing cut off.

“Hey!” a boy exclaimed. “What are you doing? Oh —- oops.”

Spike stared down at his boots and the cuffs of his jeans, which were soaked, and then he backpedaled rapidly.

He spun and faced the boy who’d shouted at him — who’d been singing.

Spike stomped over to the boy and grabbed him by the collar. “What the hell did you do to me?”

“I’m sorry.” The boy wriggled ineffectually in Spike’s grip. “I didn’t mean to. It was an accident.”

“Who are you? What are you?” Spike shook him.

“I’m Michael Kim. And I — I’m an ineo.”

Spike peered into the boy’s face. He was pale, with delicate, pretty features. “You’re a siren, then? Tried to lure me to my death with your song?”

“Actually I was sending a message to my cousin back in Korea.” Michael pointed to a fallen shell on the sand. “I was putting the song in there and then I was gonna throw it into the waves and a turtle would take it to her. You scared it off with your big boots, so thanks for that.” Michael tugged himself free.

Spike supposed he would be a pot calling a kettle black if he assumed that every non-human entity he encountered was up to no good. “So you are a siren.”

“Greek sirens actually had bird bodies in the ordinal myths,” Michael said. “I’m more like a mermaid. Merman, I guess.”

“Where’s your fish tail?”

“Don’t need one on land. You seem pretty comfortable with the notion that I’m not human.”

“Not human either,” Spike said. Not anymore.

“What are you?” Michael asked.

“Vampire.”

“Like scary face or sparkly or shark teeth?”

Spike blinked. There was more than one option? “That first one.”

“Oh. Cool.” Michael stooped and picked up the fallen shell, dusting sand off of it. “Nice to meet you, uh —”

“Spike.” He eyed Michael, who seemed like a totally ordinary kid. “How come you know about vampires but I don’t know anything about — what was it you called yourself again?”

“Ineo.” Michael stepped closer. “Well, we’re not quite like the mermaids in the cartoon. We cry pearls.”

[cornerofmadness.livejournal.com]

The Owl House, Skarra + any, she's working on a fight song for the Emerald Emeralds

[emmatheslayer.livejournal.com]

One direction RPF,zayn Malik/Harry styles only saying I love you though passive aggressive song lyrics

[emmatheslayer.livejournal.com]

Twilight Saga, Carlisle Cullen/ Jacob Black, summer time sadness

[emmatheslayer.livejournal.com]

Twilight Saga,Carlisle Cullen/Jacob Black, fall in to midnight

[emmatheslayer.livejournal.com]

Trueblood,Eric northman,Jason stackhouse, he plays piano

[emmatheslayer.livejournal.com]

Euphoria,Nate Jacobs/Jules Vaughn, dancing in the club

[emmatheslayer.livejournal.com]

Interview with the vampire, Armand/Daniel Mallory, songs of the heart