Tuesday: Role Reversal

[alba17.livejournal.com]

Today's theme is Role Reversal. The ole switcheroo. Make the servant the master, the boss the employee, the poor character rich, the man the woman, the villain the good guy, the animal or alien the human...wherever your imagination takes you.

Rules:
No more than three prompts to a single fandom
No more than five prompts at a time
No spoilers in the prompts and if your fill has spoilers, please warn and and leave at least three spaces

Format:
Fandom, Character, Prompt
Fandom, Character/Character, Prompt

Examples:

Hawaii Five-0, Steve/Danny, Danny is the Camaro
Merlin, Arthur/Merlin, Merlin is the king, Arthur the servant
Doctor Who, Amy/Rory and/or the Doctor, Rory is pregnant instead of Amy



tag=role reversal

Comments

[alba17.livejournal.com]

Hawaii Five-0, Steve/Danny, Danny is the Camaro

[alba17.livejournal.com]

Merlin, Arthur/Merlin, Merlin is the king, Arthur the servant

[alba17.livejournal.com]

Doctor Who, Amy/Rory and/or the Doctor, Rory is pregnant instead of Amy

[orlidepp.livejournal.com]

X-Men comic!verse, will also accept 90s cartoon!verse, Jubilee + any (writer picks the team mates), Jubilee has to lead the team.

[orlidepp.livejournal.com]

BtVS, Faith + Buffy + any, Faith was the first Slayer, Buffy the replacement.

Fill: Little Sister

[clay-roses.livejournal.com]

"You think I wanted this? You're acting like I choose this!" Buffy pushed herself into Faith's space, and whoa, little sister better step back or she'd find herself on the receiving end of the Slayer's punch--again. A bruise decorated the blonde's cheekbone, a result of Faith's sudden flare of temper when the bubbly bimbo pranced into the room and announced she was the Slayer.

As if. Faith was the Slayer, thank you very much. But apparently the whole "when one dies another is called" thing worked for temporary deaths, too, which damn. Faith was kinda glad the Council hadn't known about that little trick before, because she had a feeling if they did they'd be playing Flatliners with a whole gaggle of teenyboppers. Buffy was talking again, and Faith tried to focus. She really shouldn't have; everything the other girl said just managed to piss her off.

"All I wanted was to have a normal life. Clothes! Boys! And then some English weirdo with ugly teeth and...and big glasses and raging halitosis comes along and tells me that 'cuz some other girl died I have to hunt monsters!"

Faith huffed. "Sorry for putting you out, sweetheart. Next time I'll be more careful not to die when saving the world, k? Wouldn't want you to miss Prom or anything. In fact..."

She pushed the blonde girl, lightly, just enough to get her out of her personal bubble. "If you want to go back to that little world it'd fine by me. I'm still the Slayer. I don't want you. I don't need you. So as far as I'm concerned, you can go back to California and play dress up and pretend there's not things out there eating little kids and killing families for giggles."

The other girl's eyes went kinda wide and her lower lip trembled a bit at that, making Faith absurdly think of a kicked puppy. Christ, and the Council actually thought her working with this kid was a good idea? She was gonna get herself killed the first time a vamp even flashed his teeth at her. Then a flash of something went through her eyes, a quick glimpse of steely determination.

"I'm not going anywhere," Buffy said quietly, but surely. "I know it sounds like I don't care, but I do. Saving the world is kinda a big deal." Faith snorted at the understatement. Buffy plowed on. "I'm just...this is huge, you know? How do I even begin to get used to something like this? I'm not...I'm not special. At least, not like this. Who wants to be a superhero?"

"I thought it was kinda cool." Faith shrugged her shoulders. "But you never get used to it, B, sorry to say. You just do what you can, and take what you can, while you can, and hope you die another day."

"I don't know if I can do that," Buffy admitted. "Will you teach me?" At Faith's surprise, she added, "Not just with Slaying stuff, but with...living in the moment? The carp-ing of the diem?" She still looked hella freaked out, but that little bit of steel she'd seen in her earlier seemed to be stronger.

"Yeah," Faith said. Maybe little sister was going to work out, after all. Or at least not be impossible to work with. "Yeah, I think I can do that."

[orlidepp.livejournal.com]

Charmed, any or any/any, Phoebe was the sister who was killed while Prue lived.

In the Mourning

[analise010.livejournal.com]

This prompt was a little rushed, but let's just hope you don't get weird comments this time.

-----------------------------------------------------------


“Power from the witches rise, course unseen across the skies. Come to us I call you near. Come to us and settle here,” Piper barks out for the hundredth time, her voice nearly hoarse with the effort. The tears have long since stopped flowing, but the pain refuses to subside.

“Piper, this isn’t going to work. We need...time,” Prue says from the windowsill of the attic. She still hasn’t left Piper’s side all night, even though Piper can tell that she wanted to. Piper will have to thank her for that someday.

“But this is wrong!” Piper screams, toppling over the Book of Shadows. “We’re the power of three and Phoebe is a part of that. She was young and impulsive and maybe a little reckless, but that doesn’t mean we give up.”

She sinks to the floor, clutching her hair, waiting for everything to be okay. She feels Prue get up and sit down next to her. When Prue’s hand begins to rub her shoulder, Piper only flinches slightly at the contact.

“It’s not giving up. She’s gone and we have to deal with it,” Prue says, her voice cracking.

“Why is it that we can save everyone and not our own sister? We’re witches, damn it.”

“It’s going to hurt, but we have to accept this and move on, no matter how long it takes.”

Piper understands the meaning of Prue’s words, but finds that she can’t believe them. When bad things happen, she doesn’t sit back and let it go, she fights. It’s all she knows how to do.

“I don’t - How can we - ” she tries, her lips unable to say what she doesn’t want to feel.

“We just have to learn how to live without her,” Prue whispers, hoping that she can believe her words.

[kim47.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Michael/Jimmy, Dean is the vessel for the archangel Michael and Jimmy Novak is the Righteous Man.

Perhaps I should not fill on almost no sleep...

[zelda-addict.livejournal.com]

When none of his brothers would take up the task, Michael himself stormed the Gates of Hell to retrieve the Righteous Man. Even though the Angelic Council had determined by a majority vote that the Apocalypse should be allowed to begin, Michael was disappointed that he was not in time to prevent the breaking of the first seal.

He could not speak directly to Jimmy Novak, which necessitated obtaining use of Michael's vessel. He would almost rather storm Hell again...

***

"Look, I promise it'll be temporary, and you'll be put back here, just as you are now, as soon as I have assured the well-being of the Righteous Man."

Dean Winchester glared at the "angel" that had popped into his dream skeptically. "Riiiight. That sounds completely reasonable."

The older Winchester had been Michael's vessel once before when the archangel had stopped him from selling his soul to resurrect his brother, Sam. By allowing Michael access, they were able to bring Sam back, but Dean had not enjoyed the experience at all. He was also mightily peeved when the angel told him for whom his brother was destined to be a vessel. Michael hadn't wanted to play the guilt card, but he knew it would work.

"He went to Hell to save his family," Michael declared pointedly. "Sound familiar? He was tortured mercilessly and unwittingly started a chain of events that might free Lucifer. He's the only one that can stop it. Isn't that what you want? Or would you rather live with the responsibility of possibly destroying the world and dooming Sam?"

"You are such a dick," Dean spat angrily. Michael kind of agreed with the sentiment, but he knew he'd won this argument.

***

Jimmy stood in the rain in the muddy suit he'd found himself in when he crawled from his grave. He stared at his house and wished he still had a place there, though he knew he didn't. He had no way to explain why he was back from the dead, and he felt tainted by the depths to which he'd sunk in Hell. Of course, maybe this was just more torture...

He whirled around at a sound behind him, reminiscent of the flapping of wings. There stood a quite imposing man in jeans and a leather jacket.

"Who are you?"

"I am Michael, archangel of the Lord."

"What?" Jimmy was a religious man, and this was certainly not how he would have pictured an angel. The man was as attractive as he might have presumed, features just this side of pretty, yet chiseled and masculine at the same time. He reminded Jimmy of nothing so much as a soldier, and that made a sort of sense. Then lightning lit up the sky for a moment, and he could have sworn he saw wings.

"I pulled you from the Pit," the man intoned solemnly. "You have broken a seal upon the cage of Lucifer, but you are being given a chance to stop what you have begun." The man--angel--held out a hand. "Come with me and all will become clearer in time."

Jimmy swallowed past a sudden, giant lump in his throat and began to reach for the hand. Before he could take it, the angel turned it over, extending the first two fingers and placing them on Jimmy's forehead. The world dropped out from beneath him.

***

When Jimmy next awoke, he found himself on a bed in what appeared to be a garish motel room. He heard voices arguing in low tones, so he sat up and turned toward the sound. The two men halted their conversation immediately and turned to stare at him. One of them was the angel, but he was...different now.

"Michael?" he asked anyway. His voice sounded embarrassingly small and frightened to his own ears.

"Sorry, pal. Mikey high-tailed it back home for a while. Said he had important things to do, but he'll be back." The man didn't sound very happy about that.

"I'm Dean Winchester, this is my brother Sam, and the weirdest day of you life is about to become an every day kinda deal."

He decided to just try and run with it. The worst that could happen was he'd wake up back on the rack.

"My name is Jimmy Novak," he introduced himself. "I wish I could say it's a pleasure to meet you, but I'm a little...overwhelmed." That was a massive understatement!

"I think that's understandable," Sam muttered quietly.

"So," Dean broke the awkward silence, a roguish smirk on his face, "who else is up for a stiff drink?"

[jaune-chat.livejournal.com]

Avengers, Tony + or / any, there's a homeless guy on the corner who has a motley collection of tools stuffed in an old leather pouch. He carries a sign that says, "Will Invent For Food."

(no fic)

[tigriswolf]

Oh, god, that's a punch in the gut.

[moonchildfic.livejournal.com]

Leverage, team, Nate has identity issues, Sophie has anger management problems, Hardison is an alcoholic, Parker wants to lead a crew some day, and there's something wrong with Eliot (but he's still their little brother). They all have the same jobs as normal. Go.

[deanangst.livejournal.com]

Nate half listens to Hatdison as the drunken hacker explains the information on their latest client between drinks of he's orange squeeze that Nate knows is actually half vodka. he wonders what happened to Turn the young man to alcohol for comfort, but as long as the hacker is functioning Nate knows he won't ask. But when the time comes he'll be there to sponsor Alec thru rehab.

Parker sits silently beside Nate making notes. Nate knows she is Planning her own version of the con needed to take down the mark. She's just waiting and hoping for the day Nate agrees her plan is better and he let's her take the lead. He also knows the day he does she will be gone. The girl is just itching to leave the nest and fly... In more ways than one.

Sophie sits on the opposite end of the table, scowl firmly in place as she grips her coffee cup tightly, her body almost vibrating in anger as she listens to the marks sins. Sophie is cool, the picture of calm during the grift. But outside of the con she is a powder keg that the slightest spark will set off. He's seen her lay the others low with her verbal attacks when the anger can no longer be held inside. He's only seen her attempt an apology once, and he's not even sure their hitter new what she was sorry for.

Eliot sits between Nate and Sophie, paying little attention to the actual briefing as he fiddles with a hollow point bullet. Rubbing his thumb across the smooth surface in what is for him a soothing motion. Eliot has done, and been throught alot in his short life. The one time he slept in their presence the young hitter had woke up screaming. Eliot hates guns and it scares Nate when he thinks about just what Eliots intentions for that bullet are. Nate reaches out one hand settling it over Eliot's stilling his thumb before removing the bullet from his hand. There is something wrong with Eliot, but he is still their little brother so they each protect him in their own ways just like he protects them during the con.

Nate places the bullet in his pocket and tries to refocuse on the meeting, he'll be expected to have a plan ready soon. But he can't stop thinking about who he fits into this group. He's not sure who he is anymore. He'd lost himself when Sam died and Maggie divorced him. But now he's placed in the roll od lover for Sophie, mentor for Parker, sponsor for Alec, and protector for Eliot. Sometimes he just wishes he could remember who Nate Ford was before......just .....before.

[tigriswolf]

Glee, Kurt, who is the lamb and who is the knife?

[moonchildfic.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Eliot, He's their new client (and is not pleased about it).

[tigriswolf]

Highlander, Methos/Duncan or Duncan&Methos, in their last fight, Methos quits holding back (and I want him to win)

Fill - Matthew 20:16

[icarus-chained.livejournal.com]

Um. Dark little fill for you. Warnings for violence and character death:

Matthew 20:16 (http://icarus-chained.livejournal.com/345995.html)

[tigriswolf]

Supernatural, unrequited Crowley/Castiel & un-acted-upon Castiel/Dean, Crowley’s never been this jealous of a human before

[moonchildfic.livejournal.com]

White Collar, Peter/Neal/El, Neal is Peter's art expert husband. El is the Con woman.

[tigriswolf]

Avengers movieverse, Hawkeye/Winter Soldier, the Russian operative Clint was sent to kill, but instead brought home? Wasn't Black Widow.

Fill - Not Dead Yet

[haipollai.livejournal.com]

oh god yes, didn't know i needed this


Bucky looks out the window at Budapest's skyline. The op was a bust and they're waiting for their extraction. He can hear Clint moving around the room behind him, checking his gear for the umpteenth time. Bucky has been trying to ignore the dull pounding in his skull from the lucky blow a guard got in. Clint's already twisted up enough over the bullet to his thigh so Bucky kindly didn't mention it but the constant moving is slowly driving him crazy. He doesn't need Clint to defend him as cute as the thought is.

“Just. Stop.” He grits out. “I'm shot, not incapacitated.”

“You have a concussion.”

“What?”

Clint comes over and sits beside him, moving Bucky's legs across his lap. His fingers linger on the bandage. “You have a concussion moron, so yea, I'm protecting you. You know you can't hide things from me.”

“Asshole.”

Clint smiles and looks back at the door. His hand remains on Bucky's thigh, drawing absent patterns. His other hand is curled around his bow and his quiver is within reach. Bucky can't deny it makes him feel a little better knowing the other man's got his back. He eventually covers Clint's hand with his own and entwines their fingers but otherwise they sit in silence.

There's a coded knock on the door. Clint yells come in. Both men keep their hands close to their weapons, just in case.

It turns out not to be a concern when Fury himself strides in. “Sir?” Bucky says first.

“Don't tell me the Security Council has finally demoted you,” Clint quips.

“We have to get you boys back and debriefed ASAP.” He's looking at Bucky as he talks and Bucky does not like that look. Clint stands and pulls Bucky's arm over his shoulder, helping him up. He doesn't need the support, but it feels good to have Clint pressed against his side. “We might have found him Barnes.”

“Found who?” He whispers because he already knows the answer.

“Captain America.”

He's led out to a waiting Quinjet where there's a medic ready to start poking and prodding at him but Clint shoos him away. They sit together in the back, listening to the drone of the engines carrying them away. Fury hands them a file but otherwise doesn't bother them. Bucky doesn't even open it. “What are you going to do?” Clint asks.

“Take a shower. Drag you to bed. Think tomorrow. Sound alright?”

Clint grins against his temple and murmurs that it sounds like the best fucking night they could have.

[tigriswolf]

Supernatural, Dean & John, Dean wakes up in Cold Oak a few weeks after Sammy leaves for Stanford. John has to find him.

[inkvoices]

Sherlock BBC, Sherlock/John or Sherlock & John, Sherlock was in the army, John set himself up as a Consulting Detective. (Bonus if everything else is the same, so John is stil a Doctor and studied medicine and Sherlock is still obsessed with crimes and has addictions...)

Fill 1/2

[enochia.livejournal.com]

“So, Stamford,” said Sherlock, omitting greeting, “why have you called me?”

“I found you a potential flatmate,” replied Stamford, used to the man’s lack of manners.

“Lead the way,” said Sherlock. He didn’t ask for more, preferring to make his own conclusions first.

Stamford led him inside St. Bart’s, and to the second floor. They entered a small office. A blonde man of slight stature, dressed in lab coat, was sitting there. He stood up to greet them. Sherlock read “Dr John H. Watson” on the plaque on his desk.

“Hullo, John,” said Stamford, shaking his hand. “This is Sherlock Holmes, whom I told you about.”

“How do you do,” said John, extending a hand to shake. Sherlock took it, using the opportunity to examine it. Hm. Surgeon’s grip, no nicotine stains, he catalogued.

“Afghanistan or Iraq?” asked John out of blue.

“Afghanistan,” replied Sherlock after a pause. Yes, it was quite obvious. But from what he remembered, regular people weren’t that observant. He didn’t need to ask what led him to it: He had an uneven tan and hasn’t shaken off the posture yet.

Dr Watson waited, obviously expecting an inquiry. Sherlock decided not to give him the satisfaction, choosing to look for something interesting to point out himself. John looked to Stamford, feeling a bit unsure. Stamford smiled and decided to put him out of his misery:

“This one here, John, could give you a run for your money. He is a walking-talking encyclopaedia of crime. Why, if he didn’t join the army, he could have been your competition.”

“Oh,” said John, nodding.

Interesting, thought Sherlock, narrowing his eyes.

John coughed. “Well, anyway, there is this flat in 221B Baker Street. The landlady is a nice old woman – we met before. Dreadful business with her husband, but it seems to have worked out for the best. If you would like to check it out, I’m available now,” said John. He seemed slightly nervous.

“First things first: do you mind violin?” asked Sherlock.

“I’m okay with it, as long as it’s not terrible-sounding. I’m also okay with smoking,” said John.

Sherlock smiled. Yes, it’s quite obvious, but many would have overlooked it, he thought, strangely proud of his new acquaintance.

“I’m not okay with other substances you are prone to abusing, however,” said John, his face suddenly grave.

Sherlock was startled. Ah, but he’s a doctor, of course he knows the signs. Stupid,he thought. “It will be no problem to you,” he said.

“No. Just because it’s out of my sight doesn’t mean it’s okay. Even if you don’t do it in the flat. I swore an oath, you know. I can’t stand by. I imagine your consumption would have been somewhat limited in the army. We’ll be able to take you off easily. Please,” said John. He didn’t know why he bothered. He should have waved him off, refused to share the flat with him, called authorities, said the generic speech; but for some reason he felt he couldn’t allow this man to waste himself. He looked at him imploringly, putting on what Harry called “sad dog face”. It didn’t seem to faze his roommate-cum-pet project to be, though. He was biting his lip, his expression stubborn.

Then John’s phone sounded the message alert. He excused himself and opened it, glad for the interruption. It was from DI Lestrade, asking for his opinion. He didn’t put in the details, but it was unnecessary – the good doctor was eager to help in any way he could.

John figured this was a sign.

“Mr Holmes,” he started.

“Sherlock,” interrupted Sherlock.

“Call me John, then. You said you had interest in crimes. Like Stamford said, I am interested in them myself. I've been a sort of of semi-official consultant of Scotland Yard and various private parties for a while. I just got an alert from my Yard contact. If I let you accompany me on my consultations, would you consider quitting your addictions?” pleaded John.

“I suppose I could consider it. But it had better be interesting,” said Sherlock, vaguely intrigued.

“Very well. If you have time…” John trailed off.

“Yes, let’s go,” said Sherlock.

“Sorry, Stamford,” John just remembered his old classmate was present.

“Never mind me,” said Stamford, bemused. “Off you go, lads.”

[inkvoices]

Avengers (film), Steve (/any), Howard was the guy who crashed a plane carrying the Tesseract into the ice, Steve was the one who was elsewhere.

[inkvoices]

Avengers (film), Clint/Natasha, Natasha was the one Loki 'took over' whilst Clint was undercover.

[analise010.livejournal.com]

Xena: Warrior Princess, Xena/Gabrielle, Xena is the small town girl, Gabrielle is the travelling ex-war lord.

[analise010.livejournal.com]

X-Men (any 'verse), Charles/Erik, Charles is the one bent on mutant supremacy, Magneto strives for human-mutant coexistence.

[analise010.livejournal.com]

Suits, any, Donna is the laywer and Harvey is her assistant AND/OR Mike is the paralegal and Rachel is the associate who never went to law school.

not a fill but

[kim47.livejournal.com]

oh god, I hope someone fills this, this is the best prompt I've ever seen.

[hanorganaas.livejournal.com]

Stargate Atlantis, John/Rodney, John is the hypochondriac scientist and Rodney's the brave secretly broken Millitary commander.

[hanorganaas.livejournal.com]

The Hunger Games, Peeta/Katniss, Peeta is the Boy on Fire and Katniss is the Girl with the Bread

1/2: Buttercup/Westley, AU

[tigriswolf]

(It has been a long time since I saw the movie or read the book. But wow, this was fun.)

...


Four years after Buttercup dies on the high seas, victim of the Dread Pirate Roberts, Prince Humperdinck offers Westley a deal: to become the Prince Consort.

Westley's back still aches when it rains, a terrible reminder of the injury that led to Buttercup seeking their fortune, and there is nothing for him on the farm that is a memorial all he once had.

"I'll never love you," he tells the prince.

The prince laughs. "Or I you," the prince says. "This is a contract of convenience, nothing more."

.

Westley dreams of her, always. The way she haughtily said farm boy and watched him, the way she kissed, the way she fell into his arms. The way she took to hard labor when he injured himself so stupidly, how her body (which had never been soft) tightened into something new, something so strong.

The way she said goodbye, hair cut short, wearing his clothes altered to her frame. “I’ll come home,” she promised, leaning down to kiss him, one hand cupping his cheek. “Dearest Westley, I’ll always come home to you.”

But she never did. She never did, and he dreams of her, wrapped in thick blankets, tucked into the softest bed.

He always wakes with the promise, I’ll never love again. He never does.

.

He is out walking because his back is acting up, so he couldn’t stand a horse’s gait. He is out walking to escape the castle’s stuffy atmosphere and the courtiers’ disdain.

A farm boy can be dressed in finery, but he will still be a farm boy. A farm boy can be taught elocution and memorize dictionaries but he will still be a farm boy.

Westley is out walking when the ruffians abduct him. He almost relishes the adventure.

.

A genius, a swordsman, and a giant plan to start a war with Westley’s body as the spark.

“The prince doesn’t love me,” he tries explaining but that does not matter. Humperdinck might not, or the courtiers – but the people do. He is charming. He is handsome. He is one of their own.

“We are being followed,” the swordsman says, interrupting Westley’s argument with the genius.

“Inconceivable!” the genius whines.

Westley rolls his eyes.

.

The giant carries Westley, the genius, and the swordsman up the towering Cliffs of Insanity and then they all watch in shock as the stranger in black follows them up the rope.

“Inconceivable!” the genius repeats, and then orders the swordsman to deal with it because they have a schedule to keep.

When they look back half an hour later, the stranger in black is following them and the genius shouts, “Inconceivable!”

“Stop saying that!” Westley shouts back. “It is clearly conceivable!”

The genius backhands him and orders the giant to deal with it since the swordsman failed. “Keep up, your highness,” the genius says snottily. “You’ll die either way but it’s up to you how painfully.”

Westley keeps his head down and lets the genius drag him along by his bound hands, stumbling after him since the genius decides to blindfold his eyes – probably because it didn’t take a genius to figure out that since the giant and swordsman were gone, chronic back pain or not, Westley could utterly crush the genius.

.