THURSDAY: HAPPY THANKSGIVING
Nov. 22nd, 2012 07:28 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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comment_ficWhether you're experimenting with how much turkey you can eat and remain conscious or not, the prompt today is Thanks.
It just seemed appropriate. *g*
Of course perhaps someone has no reason to be grateful or has an odd way of expressing it. Interpret the prompt as you wish.
Some simple rules:
+No more than five prompts in a row.
+No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
+If one of your prompts is filled, feel free to prompt again.
+No spoilers in the prompts.
+If your fill contains spoilers please warn and/or leave at least three spaces.
Format for prompts:
Fandom, Character, Prompt
Fandom, Character/Character, Prompt
Examples:
Person of Interest, Reese/Finch, I'm supposed to thank you for this?
Sherlock BBC, Sherlock/John, John isn't as grateful as Sherlock thought he'd be when Sherlock returned.
Arrow, Queen/Diggle, Thanksgiving at the Queen mansion.
Not really your thing? Why not try to fill one of the lonely prompts instead?
tag=Thanks
.
It just seemed appropriate. *g*
Of course perhaps someone has no reason to be grateful or has an odd way of expressing it. Interpret the prompt as you wish.
Some simple rules:
+No more than five prompts in a row.
+No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
+If one of your prompts is filled, feel free to prompt again.
+No spoilers in the prompts.
+If your fill contains spoilers please warn and/or leave at least three spaces.
Format for prompts:
Fandom, Character, Prompt
Fandom, Character/Character, Prompt
Examples:
Person of Interest, Reese/Finch, I'm supposed to thank you for this?
Sherlock BBC, Sherlock/John, John isn't as grateful as Sherlock thought he'd be when Sherlock returned.
Arrow, Queen/Diggle, Thanksgiving at the Queen mansion.
Not really your thing? Why not try to fill one of the lonely prompts instead?
tag=Thanks
.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-11-22 12:29 pm (UTC)Sherlock BBC, Sherlock/John, John isn't as grateful as Sherlock thought he'd be when Sherlock returned.
no subject
Date: 2012-11-24 01:29 pm (UTC)---------------------------------------------------
It’s a cold spring day when Sherlock Holmes comes back from the dead. The sky’s the colour of old porridge. John opens the door to the flat. He thinks he can see his breath clouding in the early morning air.
“John.” Sherlock is waiting for him by the mantelpiece, a little paler, a little thinner. John nods. Everything is as it should be.
“John,” Sherlock says again, and then he’s a cold body pressed against John and there are words, so many words: three gunmen, had no choice, only way to save everyone, do you see do you do you.
John closes his eyes and holds on. “Yes,” he says, “you’re back. I knew you’d be back.”
-
John makes the tea, makes the supper, puts his feet up, talks about football.
Sherlock looks at him, surprised. John’s eating, but hasn’t put a plate or a mug out for him.
“I’ll…ah. I’ll help myself then,” he says. John stops chewing and looks at him blankly, and then suddenly he’s laughing in broken little gasps.
“Christ,” John says. He shakes his head. “Yeah, why not. Go on then.”
Sherlock frowns. John sounds like he’s close to despair. He hadn’t expected this. He’d expected something a little more generous: a fist to the jaw, a storm of tears, maybe even a little gratitude – everything out in the open and understood, if not forgiven.
John’s not grateful. John’s not anything. John’s talking to Sherlock about football, for god’s sakes.
-
John won’t go out with him. “Oh, Lestrade called?” he says, something brittle in his voice. He waves Sherlock out the door. “Off you go, then” he says. “Chop chop. Mustn’t keep him waiting.”
The attitude’s getting a bit much, but Sherlock takes a deep breath and says, “will you come? I’m expecting necrosis but I could do with a second opinion.”
John blanches. “No no,” he says, almost pushing the door shut in Sherlock’s face. “No, god, it’s bad enough Greg calls once a week. Off you go.” He does shut the door then.
Sherlock stares at it.
-
“I did it for you! For all three of you!” Sherlock’s trying not to shout, but the blank way John’s looking at him makes him want to hit something. “I had to die. I had to go away!”
“I know,” John says.
“I’m very grateful,” John says.
And really, that would be the last straw for anyone but something’s so very wrong here; Sherlock stops and looks around the flat again – looks the way he should have right at the start.
The skull’s still on the mantelpiece, but there are socks balled up and rolled under the sofa. The laptop’s open but it hasn’t been turned on for at least a fortnight. The papers on the table are yellowing with age. John’s a military man: sharp edges to his bed making, clothes pressed, laptop dusted.
John’s eyes are staring at a spot on the wall behind Sherlock. No, Sherlock realises slowly… no, John’s eyes are staring at the wall through Sherlock. John’s been looking through him since he got here.
“John,” Sherlock says, and kisses him, angry and desperate. John’s mouth is cold and faintly salty. He kisses that away, tongue and lips gliding over John’s, until John’s mouth is open and he’s kissing Sherlock back a little, and then a little more again. John’s mouth slowly changes under his, something gently waking up, warming them both.
John pulls away, eyes suddenly focused. He takes Sherlock’s hand, rubs a thumb over it, buries his nose in Sherlock’s neck and takes deep breaths.
When he looks up, he’s frowning. “You’re real. I don’t – you’re …real?” He kisses Sherlock again, hard and disbelieving and then he pulls away again and says, in quite a different tone of voice, “you’re real,” and Sherlock feels a fierce, terrible joy because there’s a lot of things in that voice, but definitely no gratitude.
No gratitude at all.
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Date: 2012-11-22 12:29 pm (UTC)Arrow, Queen/Diggle, Thanksgiving at the Queen mansion.
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Date: 2012-11-22 12:30 pm (UTC)Person of Interest, Reese/Finch, I'm supposed to thank you for this?
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Date: 2012-11-22 12:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-22 12:37 pm (UTC)(your choice what happened to Natasha before Thor got to her)
Avengers, Thor and Natasha, violence
Date: 2012-11-23 01:59 am (UTC).
.
.
The first thing he gives her is a gun.
The second is his cloak, stripped from his shoulders. She has plenty of practice in making clothes from nothing, can tie it to cover her body with little effort. Natasha had barely noticed the cold, but she notices the warmth now she has it.
The third is his hand, stretched out to hers and then clasped solidly around her wrist. The hand he takes is her left, leaving her right holding the gun, still pointed at the door. When she is steady on her feet he passes her the other pistol. He looks at her, once up and down, a quick check of status. She nods back at him. She has been in worse shape and walked out under her own power, with miles to the nearest safe-house. But she will not turn down the rescue and a flight away from here, as long as she gets the chance to do a little shooting on her way out.
Thor simply nods back and asks, “Do you know where they took your weapons?”
“That corridor, second door on the left, and then the third door down the hallway.”
“Excellent. Shall we retrieve them?”
She nods. They don’t matter, she has no especial attachment to any one weapon, but they were taken from her. These men will not be permitted to keep them.
Thor fills in, “Agent Barton is above in the jet. Iron Man and Hulk are asking questions of the scientists. And our Captain is keeping the exit clear.”
She nods again. “What was that about Stark and the scientists?”
“He will let us know when he is finished. He took the infiltration of our communication networks poorly.”
“I can imagine.”
Thor grins. “His anger was something to behold.” He knocks his way through the door she points at. “There.”
Natasha straps her gauntlets on her wrists. They rub the abraded skin but that is not enough to bother her. Thor hands her a comm., delicate in his large hand. She fits it in her ear but doesn’t speak, just listens. With the knowledge of where they are and what they believe themselves to be doing, she can put the fragments of speech together. Steve sounds as though he could use their assistance.
Thor agrees with her. He goes up the hallway one pace ahead of her and one to the right. She shoots past his shoulder while he continues to slam his way back to their way out.
Steve meets them at the junction of the corridor, Stark and Banner (back to his usual size) shortly after. They exclaim and examine and want to fuss over her. She brushes them off and takes another shot. They are distracted by the perception of her pain, and she is neither distracted nor feeling the pain. They can voice their concern about her when they are all safely home. Once she no longer has the need of it.
In the jet, Clint tosses her a flight-suit and a jacket, the first a little too big and the second her own, left over a chair three days ago. Natasha pulls them on, not heeding the wince that crosses Tony’s face or the anger in Steve’s.
Natasha sits beside Thor. She gives him back the cloak. He smiles and drapes it back around his shoulders. “Would you like to hear how we made our way in? It was much more exciting than the fight to leave. Our allies at SHIELD have given us some excellent new explosives.”
Someone makes a protesting sound but she says, “Tell me.”
Thor’s hands spread wide in the air, describing the field. His recount bears little relation to the kind of reports she would give – there is a much more frequent use of the words ‘mighty’ and ‘ferocious’ among other things – but it is undoubtedly a war story. He finishes, “And you know the rest, Widow, for of course you fought that battle with me.”
“Thank you,” she says, most of it lost under the sound of the jet.
He looks back at her, expression calm and fathomless. “We have bled together, you and I.”
Natasha raises one eyebrow.
“So there is no need for thanks,” he says. “Warriors in arms have no debts amongst each other.”
She forgets, sometimes, just how alien he can be. So Natasha frowns a little, but doesn’t protest it. He gave her a gun before he asked if she was well. Other differences matters less after that.
Re: Avengers, Thor and Natasha, violence
From:Re: Avengers, Thor and Natasha, violence
From:no subject
Date: 2012-11-22 12:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-22 12:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-22 12:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-22 12:47 pm (UTC)Glee, Kurt + OC, PG, AU
Date: 2012-11-22 06:10 pm (UTC)(in this 'verse; Kurt&Blaine are serial killers in love. The backstory for this snippet is that Kurt&Blaine were held hostage during a robbery, and Kurt kept everyone calm. No hostages were killed, and only two were harmed.)
...
“Are you having a good evening?” Evie asks when Kurt Hummel walks in. It’s Thanksgiving eve and she’s about to close; Oliver is in the back straightening up so everything is ready for Friday. Neither of them is ever alone in the store anymore.
“I am, thank you,” Kurt says warmly. “What about you?”
She nods. “Monica and her family are in town for Thanksgiving.” She chuckles. “Oliver wanted to move down to Tampa after the – well, the incident.” She waves a hand around the store. “But this is my life’s dream, you know?”
“I do,” he says, nodding. “I don’t think I could give up my dream for anything.”
Evie smiles. “What do you need?” she asks.
“This is the first Thanksgiving Blaine and I are hosting,” he says, looking young and excited. “My family is in town and I ran out of fruit juice. I don’t suppose you have any left?”
“Of course I do,” Evie tells him. “For you, I have anything.”
He ducks his head; he really is such a good boy. She just wants to bring him home and take care of him, but knows he wouldn’t allow it.
“Let me show you,” Evie says gently, leading him over to the cooler. “We have cranberry, pineapple, orange, and apple.”
“Oh, good,” Kurt sighs with relief. “My brother’s in town and he inhales everything in sight. I’ll take one of each.”
Evie grabs a container of cranberry and pineapple; Kurt takes the other two and they walk over to the counter. “On the house,” Evie tells him, bagging all four.
“Ms. Alquin, you can’t keep giving me stuff for free!” Kurt says.
“Kurt Hummel,” she says sternly, “you kept a terrible situation from being any worse. The least I can do is give you some juice, comprende?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he mutters, but then he smiles that beautiful smile at her. “Have a good Thanksgiving, Ms. Alquin. Thank you for the juice!” He carefully takes both bags and hurries out.
She watches him go, smiling, and locks the door after him, turning the sign to say CLOSED.
Re: Glee, Kurt + OC, PG, AU
From:Re: Glee, Kurt + OC, PG, AU
From:no subject
Date: 2012-11-22 12:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-22 12:54 pm (UTC)(Ex. offering to foster future children, woo a girl on their behalf, gives them a masterwork weapon or very expensive piece of jewellery; these are Viking-ish, but pick something more alien if it comes to mind.)
Thor/Jane, Steve/Bucky: Firstborn
Date: 2012-11-22 07:00 pm (UTC)“You promised to give him our firstborn?” she hisses, shooting Steve a poisonous glare.
“I did,” Thor replies with a puzzled frown. “You act as if you did not know of my intentions. I informed you after the Captain rescued us from our captors that I planned to show him our gratitude in the traditional way of Asgard.”
“I thought you were naming the baby after him, not giving him away!”
Steve feels marginally less guilty knowing he is not the only one who misinterpreted Thor’s words.
Still looking confused, the god of Thunder asks carefully, “Is this not a custom practised on Midgard?”
“No,” Jane states firmly, and Steve marvels at how she seems to tower over Thor even though she barely comes up to his shoulder.
Now looking incredibly sheepish, Thor mumbles, “I apologise if I have offended or caused you grief Jane; it was not my intention to do so. I simply considered this the most appropriate way to express our gratitude to the Captain, especially since he and his Soldier of Winter are incapable of siring their own heir together.”
Some of the fire leaves Jane’s eyes at that. “It was a nice gesture Thor, but on Earth we don’t give babies to people as thanks – we give gift baskets.”
“What are gift baskets?”
The corner of Jane’s mouth twitches as she fights a smile. Sensing this is his moment, Steve steps forward and holds the child out to Jane. “As much as Bucky and I appreciate the offer, this is your child and we would hate to separate a mother from her child.”
Jane takes the miraculously still slumbering babe and gives Steve a look that is far more frightening than anything he has ever seen on the battlefield. Steve attempts to look as apologetic as possible and quickly backs away to prove he is not a threat. Jane continues to watch him suspiciously for a moment; eventually, though, she sees the funny side of the whole thing. She shakes her head with a smile that is full of fondness mixed with long-suffering, and for a moment Steve’s heart stops as he is brutally reminded of Peggy.
“I still think we’ll name him after you,” Jane muses as she smiles down at her child. “Steven James Foster-Thorson.”
“And we shall send gift baskets!” Thor booms as he beams at the two of them.
Steve forces a smile. “That sounds great,” he says whilst mentally making a note to tell the other Avengers to refuse all displays of gratitude when saving the life of an Asgardian with a pregnant wife.
Re: Thor/Jane, Steve/Bucky: Firstborn
From:Re: Thor/Jane, Steve/Bucky: Firstborn
From:Re: Thor/Jane, Steve/Bucky: Firstborn
From:Re: Thor/Jane, Steve/Bucky: Firstborn
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Date: 2012-11-22 12:57 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2012-11-22 02:31 pm (UTC)Minifill: Avengers
Date: 2012-11-22 07:26 pm (UTC)There is silence around the table.
"Dude, not cool - thousands of people died because of that thing," Darcy says as she stares at the god sitting beside her.
"It was a natural population stabiliser," Loki argues. "It prevented the world from becoming over-populated and thousands dying from the competition over natural resources. You humans are in dire need of another such plague in order to prevent mass starvation and genocide."
"Yeah, I know, but that doesn't mean you talk about it during Thanksgiving. Save your plotting until after dinner."
Jane buries her face in her hands and mumbles, "You were right Thor, introducing them was a bad idea."
Re: Minifill: Avengers
From:Re: Minifill: Avengers
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Date: 2012-11-22 02:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-22 02:38 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2012-11-22 02:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-22 02:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-22 03:09 pm (UTC)Kings, Jack/David, there are stories told of the two kings God blessed, who brought lasting peace to all the kingdoms