Friday - Free For All
Dec. 16th, 2011 05:11 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
monica-catch22.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
comment_ficFor those of you that were up early enough yesterday, I am so sorry! My very early morning job means that I sometimes forget what day it is and I didn't want any of you to miss out on a day of prompting! Thank you to the very nice people that let me know very quickly.
Okay, so now to business.
It's definitely Friday (I checked three times) so today there are no limitations to your prompts! Prompt your li'l hearts away but please remember to follow our ground rules:
For the sakes of our codemonkeys please post in the following format:
Thor (movie), Darcy and Loki, most unlikely best friends
Once Upon a Time/The Avengers (movieverse), Emma/Clint, first time meeting over a bail jumper
Wanting to fill a prompt but nothing here strikes your fancy? Check out our Lonely Prompt archive, located to your left.
Have an awesome day, guys!
Okay, so now to business.
It's definitely Friday (I checked three times) so today there are no limitations to your prompts! Prompt your li'l hearts away but please remember to follow our ground rules:
- Only three prompts from a fandom
- Only five prompts in a row
- If one prompt gets filled you can leave a new one
- No spoilers in your prompts until a week after airdate/publication
- If your fill contains a spoiler please warn accordingly and leave space for the spoiler.
For the sakes of our codemonkeys please post in the following format:
Thor (movie), Darcy and Loki, most unlikely best friends
Once Upon a Time/The Avengers (movieverse), Emma/Clint, first time meeting over a bail jumper
Wanting to fill a prompt but nothing here strikes your fancy? Check out our Lonely Prompt archive, located to your left.
Have an awesome day, guys!
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no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 10:12 am (UTC)Fill: Vigilante, 1/2
Date: 2011-12-17 12:08 am (UTC)The nearly full moon provides enough light for her to pick her way across the torn up gravel, boots crunching on the tiny rocks. It's not exactly ideal but Emma doesn't think the jumper would be listening for anyone to track him here. She reviews his file mentally as she creeps closer to the only building with lights on: Harper Rollett, five-foot-ten and the notes say he favors knives.
There's a noise behind her just as Emma reached the door and she spins around. As she's pulling her gun and hoping she can get a shot off before the bodyguard can use his radio, there's a whistling noise and something whizzes past her. The man drops with a thud and Emma sees something long and thin sticking out of his chest. She crouches over him for a better look and to check his pulse. It doesn't take long to realize the guy is dead and that it's an arrow through his heart, neatly slotting in between his ribs. Emma rolls her eyes because she doesn't need some sort of vigilante Robin Hood as backup, no matter how impressive the shot was.
“I got this covered, Robin Hood!” Emma calls out, feeling stupid but she has a hunch the bow-wielding murderer is still hanging around. “You didn't need to kill him!”
Her heart stops for a second then begins pounding double-time when a masculine voice speaks from not three feet behind her. “Yeah, looks like you had everything under control, sweetheart.” Emma straightens, putting a hand on her gun. The man is still in shadows but she can make out the curve of what must be his bow dangling from one hand.
“You killed him!” Emma protests hotly, pulling her weapon in one move that she hopes doesn't look like she'd practiced it too many times in front of her mirror and training it on the larger man. He puts his hands up in front of her, showing empty palms.
“Hey now, let's calm down. I was doing you a favor.” He counters. “If he'd lived or cried out in pain, that would have alerted your boy Rollett that someone's on to him.” Emma glares as he has the audacity to smirk at her. He jerks a thumb at the door next to him. “You gonna go get him or what? I can have my partner gift wrap him, if you like.” Yeah, that's definitely a smirk and Emma holsters her gun. She has a feeling he won't hurt her but she sticks to the wall when she crosses paths with him. For his part, the stranger puts his hands in his pockets and steps away, giving her more room.
“I don't need help,” Emma hisses as she slips through the door. The man shrugs and follows her anyway.
They enter the dimly lit warehouse full of shipping crates and Emma gets a good look at her mysterious savior. He's got broad shoulders and huge arms; Emma watches the muscle play as he swings his bow over his chest in a practiced move. Then she remembers the man just murdered someone less than a minute ago and didn't blink so she stops ogling him. She reaches for her handcuffs in her back pocket and the man turns to face her.
“Ah, 'fraid I can't let you do that.” He dances out of reach with a smile, holding a finger to his ear. “Yeah, just wrap it all up. Leave Rollett for Calamity Jane here.” Emma glares at him and steps closer. The man seems amused, crossing his hands behind his head. He looks utterly content to stand there and do nothing.
Re: Fill: Vigilante, 2/2
From:Re: Fill: Vigilante, 2/2
From:no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 10:38 am (UTC)Filled
Date: 2011-12-18 10:31 pm (UTC)The bad nightmares, the silent heart-wrenching ones that make him lose his appetite for days were of a very different sort. John didn’t remember the names or the faces but he remembered that last breath, the accents, the tones, the desperate and the voices as they murmured the innumerable cries for Mother, or God or mercy or anything meaningful. They all wanted something meaningful in those last moments before they died and most of them knew that they were dying.
John wanted something meaningful in his life and he absolutely needed it after the quiet nightmares.
Sherlock had tried to pry after those nightmares but he quickly learned that a case was a much more successful method to deal with them. John caught him calling Lestrade one morning after the silent nightmare and that –that- had lifted his spirits even more than the case from Scotland Yard.
Re: Filled
From:Re: Filled
From:no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 10:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 10:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-28 03:28 pm (UTC)I'm picturing Glee's Brittany and Santana for this prompt.
(no subject)
From:WARNING: A brief bit of homophobic language
From:Re: WARNING: A brief bit of homophobic language
From:Re: WARNING: A brief bit of homophobic language
From:no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 10:47 am (UTC)Fill
Date: 2011-12-16 01:46 pm (UTC)Liar's lie because it is easy. Less complications, and less things to care about.
Methos lies because he's lived so long that all of his truths and lies have blurred together. When you live that long you can't remember if what you said thousands of years ago was meant as a truth or a lie at the time. Therefore he gets caught up in things he thinks is the truth, but just might be a half remembered lie. Somethings that he remembers he hopes were a lie, because if the truth is that bad he doesn't want to remember.
In the end, Methos lies a lot. But is he really lying?
Even he doesn't know.
Re: Fill
From:no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 10:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 10:49 am (UTC)Fill- Chasing After You
Date: 2011-12-16 06:54 pm (UTC)"I don't care what the old geezer thinks, never have. You oughta know that."
"I know, but just the chance to make him mad will please me to no end."
I laughed. My brother thinks like me- our father's opinion doesn't matter much to us. He's pretty hypocritical himself, and what galls me is that every time he calls me he calls me hypocritical. Me. Me who has done nothing but love him and tell him I didn't hold to his beliefs.
Then again that may be the reason he calls me hypocritical. He doesnt like anyone who tells he's wrong, whether he is or not.
But back to the reason I faked my death. Sam Winchester has been following far too hard and too close on my tail. It's like he wants to rape me. Unfortunately I don't swing that way- at least I don't with Sam. If I had a crack at his brother, hells yeah I'd swing that way. I'd swing like a monkey for Dean.
But Dean's not the one who wants me. It's Sam who wants me. Sam the sasquatch, who's big enough to throw me across the room. Sam, who scares the shit out of me. Sam whose amber eyes stare through me.
OK so I guess I'm lying. Maybe I love Sam Winchester. But I want him to chase after me, not for me to chase after him. I want him to want me.
And so I will fake my own death
~~~
The rest is continued in the comments- thisn's just the first. :)
Re: Fill- Chasing After You- 2/?
From:no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 10:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 10:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 10:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 10:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 10:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 12:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 12:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 12:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 01:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 01:39 pm (UTC)Fill: The Castaway Team
Date: 2011-12-18 09:52 pm (UTC)Angel/Criminal Minds/NCIS/SG1
Wesley looked up from his books as Elle Greenaway entered his motel room. She nodded grimly once. Of course, Elle had gotten the witness to admit to the true location of the where they saw the monster. Her old job as an FBI profiler came in handy in that way. She could make anyone talk. In this case, the witness had been picking up a prostitute and a little dope when a vampire nest had nabbed the prostitute, the pimp and the drug dealer, and had no doubt turned them. The three would easily be able to gain meals or thralls.
Elle moved to the crossbow ‘range’ Wesley had set up for her use. Elle knew cop and FBI procedure backwards and forwards and handed out latex gloves like some high school councilors handed out condoms. She didn’t let Wesley’s team get connected to any illegal activities. She didn’t let their illegal activities be connected to each other and put them on the Fed’s radar. She was handy with guns but was next to useless on the older weapons that were needed for combating the supernatural. She had very little experience with the supernatural but she was smart and willing to learn. She was the only newbie on the team.
Caitlyn was old. Wesley didn’t know how old and it was very impolite to ask a lady when the answer would be well over a hundred. Wesley knew that she had played at being a regular human and had ‘died’ in a pretty spectacular manner and needed to stay under the radar for a lifetime or two. She had joined Wesley’s team because she needed to hunt down the bad guys, above the law or below it; she always hunted the bad guys. She also had awesome contacts to fake credentials. She also knew how to tail a ‘suspect’ and how to set up surveillance. Currently, Caitlyn was watching the vampire nest and observing the number of blood suckers that they needed to kill.
Jack O’Connell –with two ‘L’s’- walked into Wesley’s room like he belonged there. He belonged even though he was a decade or two (in one case a century or two) younger than all the other team members. He dropped two duffle bags on Wesley’s bed. Of course, he had gotten every illegal weapon that Elle and Caitlyn had insisted that they needed to raid the nest. He had a surprising number of contacts in the underworld. He also had every single illegal weapons dealer on the continent scared to death of him. Wesley didn’t know why everyone was scared of a seventeen year old. (Wesley hoped that he was seventeen, but doubted it). The fear admittedly came in handy. When it came to interrogations, Jack was actually better at it than Elle.
They were an oddball team of castaways, but they worked.
no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 01:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 01:47 pm (UTC)Happiness is home. Daredevil, Matt/Danny
Date: 2012-01-03 05:14 am (UTC)Danny's voice sounded smug in his ear, Danny's arms coming around to wrap around him, burying his freezing nose into the crook of Matt's shoulder-blade. Danny's hands were cold to the touch, having just come back from the store minutes ago.
He was home, beyond deliriously happy, and for the moment, warm and safe. He wanted to take advantage of it. For so long, his life had seemed so bleak and though he couldn't call it a picnic now either, he cherished what he had. Maybe it was the holiday season or whatever, but Matt felt like being a sappy, maudlin guy wholly in love with his friend. And he didn't care who knew it.
<3
From:no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 01:47 pm (UTC)Fill: Harry Potter, Percy Weasley
Date: 2011-12-19 07:31 pm (UTC)He had always been uncomfortable with his mistakes, even as a child. Spelling mistakes could not be scratched out under enough ink, they would always stare at him until he broke and got another piece of parchment, sometimes re-writing whole pages just to expunge the one error from the record. It had been a useful practice, of course; his spelling and grammar were impeccable, far better than any of his siblings’, precisely because he had held himself to such a high standard. That high standard had earned him his good grades, found him a brilliant and hard-working girlfriend, and finally caused him to become the Hogwarts Head Boy. It was a position worthy of respect. Not the assembled prefects seemed to be aware of that.
“Yes, you may find it amusing now, but please tell me, whose patrol did Sirius Black slip by in order to get to Gryffindor tower?”
That shut them up. The anxiety and tension of the night spent in the Great Hall was barely a week old. They looked down at the floor, unwilling to meet his eyes.
Except for one Slytherin prefect. Aminta Lorensen had always been a delight to work alongside, as she took her responsibilities very seriously and had dreams of going into the security field herself. But she did have a bit of a tongue on her, and a tendency towards sniping that held her back from true advancement.
“The dementors’ patrol. And Hagrid’s. And Filch’s. And the portrait’s. And all of the teachers’. And Dumbledore’s. I’m sorry that I didn’t realize that we were supposed to be better than all of them.”
The other prefects darted their eyes between she and Percy. Percy readjusted his badge as he prepared to speak.
“We had a full patrol out that evening. One of us should have intercepted him at some point, had we been as alert and prepared as we should have been.”
“We are fifteen, sixteen and seventeen year olds. He’s an escaped mass murderer. What were we supposed to do, jump in front of his knife?”
The “yes” was almost out of his lips before he caught himself. He took a deep breath and tried to regain his composure.
“He almost killed my little brother.”
That quieted them down, thankfully. Penny watched him out of the corner of her eye, expression soft. But this was no time for him to get emotional.
“But it does not matter who was a potential victim, what matters is that a student was almost harmed during our patrol. It does not matter who else shares our responsibility to protect the school, what matters is that we failed in our own personal duty. It cannot happen again.”
He launched off into a speech about improved safety measures, revised patrolling patterns, and techniques for more thorough corridor checks. They mostly paid attention, but he was speaking the words more for himself than for anyone else. He put the task on them, but this was his job. His duty.
Being Head Boy wasn’t all about a shiny badge.
no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 01:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 01:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 02:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 02:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 02:26 pm (UTC)