AU Friday!
Apr. 1st, 2016 12:38 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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comment_ficHello, everyone. I’m ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
truthwritaslies and today's theme is AU. Prompts can be any Alternate Universe from minor canon adjustments to full on canon divergence.
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 fandom's full name for ease adding to the Lonely Prompts spreadsheet.
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...
+ Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes +/John Watson, Person of Interest AU
+ Gotham, Jim Gordon/Oswald Cobblepot, Coffee Shop AU
+ Dresden Files, Harry Dresden (+ Any), Hogwarts AU
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 2016 collection. See further notes on this new option here.
Not feeling any of today’s prompts? Check out the just created Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet. For more recent prompts to write, you can also use LJ’s advanced search options to limit keyword results to only comments in this community.
While the Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet and LJ's advanced search options are available, bookmarking the links of prompts you like might work better for searching for in the future.
truthwritaslies and today's theme is AU. Prompts can be any Alternate Universe from minor canon adjustments to full on canon divergence.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 fandom's full name for ease adding to the Lonely Prompts spreadsheet.
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...
+ Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes +/John Watson, Person of Interest AU
+ Gotham, Jim Gordon/Oswald Cobblepot, Coffee Shop AU
+ Dresden Files, Harry Dresden (+ Any), Hogwarts AU
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 2016 collection. See further notes on this new option here.
Not feeling any of today’s prompts? Check out the just created Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet. For more recent prompts to write, you can also use LJ’s advanced search options to limit keyword results to only comments in this community.
While the Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet and LJ's advanced search options are available, bookmarking the links of prompts you like might work better for searching for in the future.
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no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 07:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 07:39 am (UTC)FILL
Date: 2016-04-01 09:32 pm (UTC)“Yes,” Oswald smiled. He came by twice a day, three times if he was lucky, and only when Jim was working.
Jim turned his back at him as he pulled out a cup before preparing the longest cup of coffee on their menu. It wasn’t Oswald’s favourite, but it gave him the chance to talk with Jim.
“How are you today?”
“Good, the morning rush just ended.” Their conversation was often the same, but Oswald didn’t mind, they were friends. “And how is work?”
“Good, my boss is a bit difficult lately, she lost a big contract so we all have to work harder, longer nights.”
“Ouch, so I imagine you’ll come by more often.”
“I guess so.” If Jim was there all day then Oswald would have come by more often, but he didn’t see why he should waste his time and money if Jim wasn’t there.
The coffee was almost ready, giving Oswald barely half a minute left.
“You said you planned to see that new movie, did you get a chance to watch it this weekend?”
“Yes, it was fun, not as great as I imagined but what can you expect from the director.”
Oswald laughed. “Yeah, he should probably take a few classes. Did you see it by yourself?” He knew not to push it, but it’s been months since they first met and so Oswald felt he could ask a few more personal questions.
“Yes, I took my girlfriend, she didn’t like it at all.” Something inside Oswald stirred, jealousy, anger, he wasn’t certain. Watching Jim he noticed that he wasn’t as happy as most were while they mentioned their girlfriends, maybe their relationship wasn’t in a happy place.
“I’m planning to watch it this upcoming weekend, but if it wasn’t good then maybe I’ll save my money.”
“No, just watch it, it wasn’t good, but it wasn’t that bad.”
“Ok, then I’ll go.”
The coffee was done, it was time to move aside for the next customer. He didn’t want to leave but didn’t have a choice. Taking his cup he said goodbye to Jim, his friend, and left the coffee shop.
Re: FILL
From:Re: FILL
From:no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 07:39 am (UTC)Fill
Date: 2016-04-01 01:50 pm (UTC)Scorpius Malfoy is raising his hand yet again.
Harry forces himself to take a deep breath and not aim his blasting rod at the little tow-head and be done with it. "Mr. Malfoy, are you not currently taking Muggle Studies?"
"He's been skiving it," says Rose Weasley, and Malfoy glares at her.
Albus Severus Potter raises his hand, "When you say the potion requires Coke, do you mean like Coca Cola or Cocaine?"
What the hell are parents teaching their children these days?
From the corner of the potions classroom, the portrait of Severus Snape is smirking at Harry knowingly, and Harry wished he'd never laid eyes on Minerva McGonagall, let alone accepted her invitation to teach at this blasted school.
Re: Fill
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From:(no subject)
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From:no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 07:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 07:42 am (UTC)Fill 1/2: combined SG-1/SGA
Date: 2016-04-01 02:56 pm (UTC)“His parents were readers,” McKay said quietly, while he and Carson Beckett, the Chief Geneticist, were working in the lab together.
“His parents? How did he survive?” Beckett asked in a low voice.
“He speaks many languages, or so Apophis’s Serpent Guards say,” McKay said. He kept his gaze averted from Beckett, his voice low, so anyone of the Jaffa soldiers watching would think he was just working. “He could hide among various human populations, blend in, move from nation to nation, so he was hard to catch. And as he went, he spread stories. Rumors. Lies, of course.”
“Of course,” Beckett said, equally quiet.
“He says that many years ago, humans defeated the Goa’uld, defeated Ra himself, drove him away from this planet. Only they failed to dispose of the Chappa’ai, so Ra returned, and he brought the other System Lords with him. He says that if the humans choose, they can rise up, defeat Ra and his followers. There are more humans, and if the Jaffa join them -”
“Don’t you speak it,” Beckett hissed, and then louder, “Pass the pipette, please.”
McKay slid it across the table, and for the next several hours they said nothing more to each other.
That night, McKay lay in bed with Sheppard, and he whispered what he had learned.
Sheppard supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised to see O’Neill and Carter down in the cell, inspecting the prisoner. He was hardly a threatening figure - young, slight, with blue eyes and those glasses that marked human imperfection: poor eyesight. But when he spoke, the tale he told was...remarkable. Carter offered him a datapad through the bars of the cell, and he showed her writing. Pictures. The tale of the mortals driving Ra away. Sheppard had seen precisely those drawings on the walls of the Great Pyramid where Ra landed his Hatak on a regular basis. He’d always assumed they were images of Ra conquering the people, even if he’d never looked too closely at them, but now that he did, he could see that the prisoner’s story made more sense than the explanation he’d heard from childhood.
“Daniel Jackson,” O’Neill said, testing out the name, “what would you have us do with this knowledge?”
“I would have you join us and fight,” Jackson said quietly.
“But without the goa’uld we cannot live.” O’Neill lifted a hand to his primta pouch absently. Carter did the same.
“There is a way.” Jackson’s eyes were alight with fervor. “There is a drug, called Tretonin. It allows a Jaffa to be free of his symbiote.”
“How do you know this?” McKay demanded.
Sheppard put a hand on his shoulder, restraining him, reminding him to keep his voice low. “Why would you ask this of us?”
“Because I come from another world,” Jackson said. “Not just another world, but another universe. And in that universe, I fought alongside Colonel Jack O’Neill against the Ra on Abydos, and we defeated him. I fought alongside Major Samantha Carter, and we took on Apophis, and Anubis, and so many other System Lords. We defeated the Goa’uld once, and we can do it again. And in that universe we freed the Jaffa.”
“Why should we trust you?” O’Neill demanded.
“I know about Charlie,” Jackson said quietly.
Fill 2/2: combined SG-1/SGA
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From:no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 09:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 10:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 10:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 10:48 am (UTC)not a fill yet
Date: 2016-04-16 03:54 am (UTC)Is there a myth in particular where she attempts it that you want to go AU or is it the idea in general?
no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 10:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 10:51 am (UTC)It's just a little crush
Not like I faint every time we touch
Fill (slightly nsfw)
Date: 2016-07-30 06:44 am (UTC)Shouldn't. That's a funny thought.
"Eddie."
She perks up at the sound of her name, her grin only grows bigger and Bruce knows he can't escape her. No one ever looks as thrilled as she does with his presence, it's as if he's dangerous and she likes heights. There's no way they can make it out unscathed.
"Hey, Brucie. Want to take me for a spin? I don't think we've ever taken a trip in your beloved car." She gives him these eyes that only make her appear innocent when they both know it's far from the truth.
"It's late. Shouldn't you be at home already?"
She pouts, kicks a pebble, heel scraping the pavement. "The night is young and guess what?"
"What?"
"Nuh-uh. You have to guess, where's the fun in me telling you everything."
Bruce sighs. "I'm not in the mood for games."
"Oh, that's a shame. What's a girl to do? I told myself this was my night, but alas," she says, shrugs.
Eddie pushes herself off from the car walking over to him, heels clicking on the ground. "Then, what are you in the mood for?" She purrs, playing with the buttons of his shirt.
"It smells like you in here," she comments minutes later as she moves from the passenger seat to straddle him. He grunts, hands landing on her hips and he kisses her. Kisses her until their teeth clink and his lips are raw. There is a glint on her eyes when her hand moves between them, slides down his groin and applies pressure before she pulls it back up to fiddle with his buttons, popping them open. While she goes back to kissing him like she wants to forget what breathing is.
Bruce pulls down her dress' zipper, palms splaying over the newly naked skin of her back. She moans when he sinks his teeth in her collarbone, wanting to leave his marks there. Always his. Breathes her in. Her shampoo, her perfume. Flowers and wood. "Eddie," he says, hates a little how it sounds. Hates the desperation, the stupid need.
"Yeah," she whispers, guides his hand between her legs throwing her head back when he rubs her though her panties, getting her even more wet. "We should use your car more often."
"Maybe," he answers. Feels her, tastes her. Doesn't say yes. It's hard to when he can't even begin to understand why Eddie is inescapable.
RE: Fill (slightly nsfw)
From:RE: Fill (slightly nsfw)
From:no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 11:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 11:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 11:55 am (UTC)Fill
Date: 2016-09-29 09:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 11:56 am (UTC)Buffy the Vampire Slayer, "Choices"
Date: 2016-04-01 12:57 pm (UTC)With Angel - Angelus - whatever he is calling himself this week. Xander shifts his weight from foot to foot, licks his lips. He wants Buffy. No, no, he wants Buffy safe. He wants her to be focused on this fight. He's not jealous, he tells himself, not jealous of Buffy and what she has with a freaking vampire. He wants to encourage Buffy, keep her spirits up even if she was going to be fighting the...man-thing she loves.
"Is there anything else?" Buffy asks him, making Xander jump at the interruption of his thoughts.
"Ah..." Xander shoves his hands in his pockets. Takes them out again. Bumps Buffy's shoulder with his lightly closed fist. "Willow says," he has to take a breath.
"Mm?" Buffy focuses on him then, intent, curious, just for a second, before she needs to leave him and go on to her worst battle ever. And Xander can't be there to protect her, not against Angel.
He grits his teeth and blurts out, "Willow's got the spell. She can re-soul Angel. You just have to keep him off you long enough for it to work."
Her eyes sparkle for a second with a light Xander hasn't seen in far too long. Hope blooms there - and love - and Xander gulps down all the desires he's ever had when she touches his arm. "Thanks, Xan," she whispers, then, "I gotta go."
And Xander watches as so many of his hopes and dreams walks out of his sphere, and Buffy leaves to fight Angel. He shakes his head, lets out a sigh, and heads back to Willow, where maybe, maybe, he won't try to second guess himself on what he's just done.
Re: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, "Choices"
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From:no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 11:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 12:03 pm (UTC)Fill: Before We Go fusion
Date: 2016-04-01 02:05 pm (UTC)Steve went to lift his trumpet to his lips, and there was another buzz from his pocket. Text message from a likely already-drunk Tony with the address of the reception.
No. He couldn't dwell on it. He had an audition tomorrow, the biggest audition of his life, and if he played now, for the judgment of all these strangers, all these uncaring passers-by, who would only be interested if he played his most beautiful, all his nervous fumbling would be out of his system.
So he lifted his trumpet, took a deep breath, and played.
And then a man went hurrying past. His expression was frantic and he was fumbling in his jacket pocket for something, and a cell phone tumbled out. Hit the floor. Broke.
Steve stooped to scoop up the pieces. "Hey, sir," he began, but the man was dashing for the train platform, heedless of anything around him (that the station was practically empty, that the voice overhead was saying the station was closing).
Steve stared down at the pieces of the broken cell phone, wondering what to do with it. Turn it into lost and found? Chances were it would never get found. If the man had caught his train -
But then the man was walking toward one of the night janitors, slower, dejected. He held out a ticket.
"Can I use this on another train?"
"Sure, but Penn Station's closing too," the janitor said.
The man's shoulders slumped. "Right. Okay. Thanks." He turned away and then paused, lost, noticing the emptiness of the station for the first time.
Steve stepped closer to him. "Sir, you dropped this."
The man turned toward him, and Steve's breath caught in his throat. "Bucky?"
The man stared at him for a long moment, uncomprehending. "I'm sorry?"
"I - you just look like someone I used to know," Steve said, but he was sure, sure the man was his childhood best friend.
"You use that line on all the boys?" The man managed to sound amused despite how tired and upset he obviously was.
"Listen, do you need some help?" Steve asked.
"I need to get home to Boston," the man said.
Steve packed up his trumpet. "Let's see what we can do, shall we?" He offered a hand. "I'm Steve Rogers, by the way."
"James Winters," the man said, shaking his hand, and Steve was so, so sure it was him, was Bucky, but he just smiled, and together they left the station.
The next day, Steve was sure it was Bucky when, after the last notes of his audition solo faded from the air, he saw Bucky standing at the back of the theater, grinning and holding the little hotel feedback card.
Re: Fill: Before We Go fusion
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From:no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 12:15 pm (UTC)Fill: SG-1/SGA
Date: 2016-04-01 03:11 pm (UTC)“Ma’am.” It was Chuck. Why a trailer park had a neighborhood patrol Elizabeth couldn’t even begin to guess, but she didn’t want to get into it too much. She was too tired for that. “The Scientists are at it again.”
“If they’re making noise or noxious fumes call the cops, not me.”
“They’re making a bomb I think, ma’am.”
“Then call the cops!”
“Ma’am, I think you need to see this.”
Elizabeth groaned and hauled herself out of the bed. “Fine. Be right there.” She rolled out of bed and pulled on the cleanest clothes she could find.
Atlantis Park was the dumping ground for the government’s rejects. Cam Mitchell in Unit 1 had lost both his legs in a crash as a USAF test pilot. He spent most of his days knitting blankets and scarves and sweaters and reminiscing about the good old days. John Sheppard had also once been a USAF pilot, but he’d crashed a chopper or something in A-stan and been sent home. He didn’t like to talk about it, tended to hang out on the porch of his little trailer and play his guitar and occasionally have screaming phone calls with his ex-wife. Jack O’Neill’s ex-wife had made an appearance only once in his entire time at the park. They’d had a quiet conversation, and after she’d left, O’Neill had broken three years of sobriety by getting blind drunk off of Carson Beckett’s scotch, and these days he wasn’t around much, leaving at dawn to fish somewhere and coming back with no fish and lots of empty beer cans. He’d had a girlfriend for a while, a pretty woman named Samantha, but she hadn’t shown up recently. Daniel Jackson was a disgraced archaeologist who taught ESL out of his trailer to hordes of illegal immigrants. Once in a while he and O’Neill would play chess, but he didn’t seem to otherwise have friends. McKay said Daniel thought the pyramids had been built by aliens, and he’d been laughed out of academia.
McKay didn’t have much room to talk, because he was living in Atlantis too.
And apparently he and Zelenka were building bombs.
“False alarm,” McKay said when Elizabeth stomped over to the little fire pit McKay and Zelenka had set up between their trailers. “Not bombs. Just s’mores.”
They had graham crackers and chocolate bars and bags of giant marshamallows.
“But you can make bombs out of sugary things,” Zelenka said, and Rodney glared at him.
Chuck stepped out of the shadows, flanked by Sheppard and O’Neill and Jackson, and Mitchell wheeled in beside him, holding up a sign.
Happy Birthday Elizabeth!
And this...this was why she’d never go back to working for the UN.
Re: Fill: SG-1/SGA
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From:no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 12:17 pm (UTC)not a fill yet
Date: 2016-04-01 03:15 pm (UTC)Re: not a fill yet
From:Fill 1/2: Austenland-ish fusion
From:Fill 2/2: Austenland-ish fusion
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From:no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 12:17 pm (UTC)Fill: Sherlock (BBC); John Watson
Date: 2016-04-01 08:00 pm (UTC)Re: Fill: Sherlock (BBC); John Watson
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From:Fill, No More Heroes shortly before NMH2, Travis Touchdown
From:Re: Fill, No More Heroes shortly before NMH2, Travis Touchdown
From:no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 12:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 12:58 pm (UTC)Fill 1/2: law guardian!Sam AU
Date: 2016-04-02 12:18 am (UTC)“Weird how?” Mom asked. Dean reached for the rolls out of turn, and she rapped his knuckles with the serving spoon for the mashed potatoes without missing a beat.
Lisa, his girlfriend, smirked at him when he pouted at her.
Sam ignored the mini-drama at the other end of the table and handed the bowl of peas to Jess. “I was assigned to represent this girl. Her dad basically up and abandoned her at a motel in town. Her mother died years ago, and her dad’s been hauling her around the country, she’s barely been in school, and the motel was full of a pretty scary collection of weapons, occult paraphernalia, and alcohol.”
Jess pinned him with a critical look. “I thought the state was neutral on the topic of religion.”
“It is,” Sam said, and amended, “I am. But a lot of the paraphernalia advocated really violent behavior, and some criminal behavior, so…”
“So?” Mom asked.
“So, my girl is pretty mentally ill,” Sam said. “She has some serious issues with reality, and is convinced that a yellow-eyed demon is hunting her and her father. She said her dad went off to confront it, and that’s why he left her, but he will be back.”
Dean guffawed. “A yellow-eyed demon?”
Mom choked on her water. “Really?”
“I know, right?” Sam shook his head. Such severe mental illness in one so young was sad to see, and also incredibly difficult to treat, because a teen’s brain chemistry was still evolving. “Anyway, she’s really afraid, and the staff at the detention center have caught her - get this - stealing and hoarding salt shakers.”
“Salt shakers?” Dad echoed. He wagged the one he’d picked up, the one shaped like Big Ben that Mom had bought on their anniversary trip to London.
Sam nodded. “She draws circles of salt around her bed at night, and the janitorial staff is freaking out. She says it’s religious, that salt protects her from evil -”
“Like in Hocus Pocus,” Jess said.
“I guess so. Thing is, apart from the mess, she’s really not doing anyone any harm, and she is a lot calmer when she has the circle of salt, so I’m trying to figure out if I should advocate for her to be allowed to continue the ritual under freedom of religion or not.” Sam reached for the pork roast and served himself a slice.
“That’s crazy,” Dad said, but Mom said, “I think you should let her.”
“Really?” Dean asked. Mom and Dad were both irreligious, though Mom was more spiritual than Dad, had told Sam and Dean as kids that angels were watching over them.
“My concern is the rest of her alleged religious practices,” Sam said. “I mean, desecrating graves? Salting and burning bones of corpses? Exorcising demons and using holy water and silver against people they think are monsters, like vampires and werewolves?”
“You’re worried that allowing her to continue this salt circle ritual will reinforce the rest of her negative behavior,” Jess said, and Sam nodded.
“I don’t want to set a dangerous precedent, because some of her beliefs are scary. Also, it’d be an uphill battle, because I’ve never heard of any religion that advocates these practices,” Sam said.
“I have,” Mom said quietly.
Sam raised his eyebrows. “Really?”
Mom nodded, swallowed some water. “My parents, actually, subscribed to a lot of those beliefs. The salt and holy water and silver, consecrated iron and special sigils for protection against evil. Obviously I was never much into it, but it’s not that strange. She’s not necessarily mentally ill. Don’t let her do any of the more dangerous things, but if the salt helps her sleep at night, I don’t see why not.”
Sam blinked. Mom never talked about her parents much, other than to note that they hadn’t much liked Dad, and they’d died before Mom and Dad married, Grandpa Campbell of a heart attack, Grandma Campbell of grief. It had always sounded romantic and tragic, to Sam.
Fill 2/2: law guardian!Sam AU
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From:no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 12:59 pm (UTC)Filled!
Date: 2016-12-12 06:34 pm (UTC)Stargate Atlantis, Sheppard/McKay (pre-slash), "Falling On The Sword of Friendship". Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8830435
Re: Filled!
From:no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 01:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 01:25 pm (UTC)