free for all

[tigriswolf]

Here's the free for all.

As ever, the rules are:

*No more than five prompts in a row.
*No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
*No spoilers in prompts for a month after airing. Use a spoiler cut as needed.
*If you know the character's full name, use it. Also, give the fandom's complete name, too.
*If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space.

There's also a new rule now: if something in the fill could be a trigger, please have a note to warn for it.

Have fun!

Comments

[tigriswolf]

The Man in the Iron Mask (1996 film), author’s choice, if d'Artagnan had stayed long enough at the meeting to learn the king had a twin

[tigriswolf]

Pan (2015), Blackbeard + his crew, where did he come from/how did he discover Neverland?

[tigriswolf]

RPF, Louis Tomlinson + author’s choice, “It says do not [fill in the blank], so I [fill in the blank].”

[tigriswolf]

RPF, One Direction,




Liam: I’ve just had an apostrophe.

Louis: I think you mean an ‘epiphany.’

Liam: Lightning has just struck my brain.

Louis: Well, that must hurt.

[tigriswolf]

RPF, One Direction (+ Zayn Malik), Aristocats AU where Harry is Duchess, Louis is Thomas O’Malley, and the other three are the kittens (and Simon is Edgar!)

No Fill

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

If I didn't know any better I'd say Simon Cowell modeled himself on Edgar :P

[untldeathtakeme.livejournal.com]

Doctor Who/bbc Sherlock, Any/Any, companion swap

[untldeathtakeme.livejournal.com]

MCU, Bruce Banner/+-any, for once can we have a quiet night in?

Fill. MCU/Doctor Who, Bruce Banner/The Doctor.

[aivix.livejournal.com]

Bruce sighed, watching his boyfriend twitch as an explosion rocked the TARDIS.

All he'd wanted was one quiet night in—no running around on an adventure or chasing after something—just one night where they watched a movie, maybe, and relaxed. (It'd been so long since they'd done something as simple as that, and Bruce had been daydreaming about the kind of make out sessions they'd used to have.)

The Doctor had even seemed to be onboard with that plan, landing them on what had seemed to be a quiet little world.

Except that quiet little world had merely been in the middle of temporary truce: this planet had been amid a civil war for centuries.

Something actually hit the TARDIS, pulling Bruce from his thoughts and sending them on a violent slide, and fury lit the Doctor's face; the Other Guy roared in the back of his mind, and Bruce looked to the other man.

“Go.”

With a sad look, the Doctor reached for the controls.

“No, Doctor,” Bruce said, striding over and pulling his hands from the knobs and levers, “Go.”

[untldeathtakeme.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Crowley/any or Gen, feeding the hellhound(s)

[withasmile87.livejournal.com]

RPF, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Louis visits Harry on set.

[withasmile87.livejournal.com]

The Walking Dead, Daryl Dixon/Beth Greene, "What do two pink lines mean again?"

[withasmile87.livejournal.com]

The Walking Dead, any, fainting

[withasmile87.livejournal.com]

any, any, visiting a library for the first time.

[withasmile87.livejournal.com]

any, any, murderous thoughts were never good.

[metamorphagi.livejournal.com]

A Song of Ice and Fire, Arthur Dayne/Elia Martell, Lancelot and Guinevere

[metamorphagi.livejournal.com]

A Song of Ice and Fire, any Stark/any (or gen), "In Our Bedroom After the War" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5qx_ZMY7tU)

*Please no Starkcest (Jon included)

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Mass Effect, Shepard/any, Spacer or Colonist Shepard talking about the first time they were in a non-artificial environment

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Any sci-fi, any + any, "don't anger the fae!" "Aren't you a scientist? How can you repeat that superstitious nonsense?" "What did I just say?"

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Any fantasy, any, don't feed the feral dragons - no matter how cute you think they are!

Fill, The Last Unicorn - Here Be Dragons

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

"Molly, no!" Schmendrick said, reaching out to her.

"What?" Molly didn't turn. She knew better than to look away when dealing with an immortal creature, the unicorn had taught her that much. Even a glance away could be considered a slight, or worse, an opportunity to an immortal being.

"You're attracting attention," Schmendrick hissed.

"No, I think you are," Molly said, in almost a sing-song.

"Molly." The tone of Schmendrick's voice reminded Molly that he had changed a unicorn into a young woman, and then changed that young woman back into a unicorn. And he was older than her, though he'd never explained just how much older. And maybe, just maybe, he knew something more about dragons than she. "Please. Back toward me. Slowly. And lower your eyes."

"But," Molly began.

"Lower your eyes, Molly. Please."

She obeyed, reluctantly, because the dragons were beautiful Oh, not as lovely as the unicorn but nothing ever would be - at least nothing mystical would be. But the dragons had a wildness, an incredible sense of age and wickedness and sheer joy in their -

"Molly!"

Realizing she'd raised her eyes again Molly dropped them, letting Schmendrick pull her away. A low, rubbing, rumbling sound grated on her jaws and ears.

"It's laughing," Schmendrick said, in as much explanation as disbelief. "I think we're safe." He kept Molly moving regardless, until they were out of clear sight of the dragons though he didn't release Molly's hand until they were twice again that far away from the beasts. And then he only let go of her so he could turn her to face him, leaning in close.

Molly batted away his hands and face, pulling a moue at the expression lingering in his eyebrows and the corners of his eyes. "What?"

"Thank goodness," Schmendrick said, giving her a quick hug. "I pulled you away in time."

"What?" she repeated, louder and more demanding and not quite shoving Schmendrick away.

"Dragons, Molly," Schmendrick said. "Don't you know what feral dragons eat?"

"Knights and princesses?" she hazarded.

"No, fond looks." At her disgusted grunt, Schmendrick explained. "They show enough of themselves to fascinate their prey and then..." He took a breath. And another. "And then they swallow the person's dreams and hopes and desires and leave behind a dry husk. A shallow shell of someone."

Molly blinked. "You mean?"

"Yes. You were feeding the dragons." Schmendrick shook his whole body, righting his clothes. "Don't ever do it again!"

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Any fandom with a horse, any + horse, good dog!

[vesca-viridian.livejournal.com]

(Hope you don't mind ofic. This made me think of one of my OCs... ^_^;;)


At some point Xanas had named the mage’s horse Soot since “he always gets covered in it when you do magic and he’s gray anyway.” Since then he’d been on Kai’s case to give The Horse a proper name.

Kai could argue that at some point in her life she had had a proper name—he thought it might have been Hazel or Hawthorne, something plant related—but he didn’t really see the point in giving her one when she was probably too dumb to answer to it. Soot at least was a fairly intelligent horse. Intelligent in that he stayed where he was told, didn’t startle at nothing, and didn’t try to eat every potentially poisonous plant he came across. Kai scowled at The Horse as she blinked innocent eyes at him like she hadn’t just tossed him off her back like an unwanted sack of potatoes.

“You’re horrible,” Kai grumbled, picking his now-bruised-self up. The Horse skipped a few steps back, reigns trailing in dirt. At least this time Xanas hadn’t been around to see Kai bite the dust. One would think that after three years traveling around on horseback he’d be past this sort of thing. “You know what?” he said as he made a bid for The Horse’s reigns. She side stepped him, leading him in a circle like it was all one big game. “Sometimes you’re not like a horse at all. Horses are supposed to be—” He lunged, catching the end of the reigns. “—tractable and patient.” Now that he had the reigns in hand, The Horse stood swishing her tail and snorting hot breath in his face like being agreeable had been her plan all along. “You’re more like the stupid dog that hung around the school. It would refuse to play fetch but want you to come get the stick from it and was forever diving for anything that someone dropped because it just might be edible.”

Kai pushed her whiskery nose away as she tried to nibble on his hair. He’d lost more than enough hair that way.

He couldn’t remember what that dog had been called either, though it likely had had a dozen or so names since it belonged to everyone and no one at the mage school at the same time. “Instead of Horse, maybe I should just call you Dog.” Kai grinned to himself, picturing Xanas’s exasperated expression if he started calling a horse Dog. “Actually…” He rubbed her nose and The Horse’s eyelids drooped happily. “How about it? Dog’s not so bad as a name.”

The Horse—Dog, now apparently—blinked back at him.

“There’s nothing going on in that head of yours is there?” Kai sighed. He stepped up around to her side and swung himself back into the saddle. She kept still like a horse should, glancing back at him as he settled into place. He patted her neck. “Good Dog,” he said, grinning at the name choice already.

Dog, not seeming to care if she was named or not, let herself be turned back the direction they were supposed to be going readily enough. Kai was going to say “Good Dog” to anything she did even remotely correct until he stopped finding it funny. That would likely take a long time.

*

Xanas gave Kai a look of disgust. “Really? You named her Dog? When I said you should give her a name, calling her a different animal was not what I had in mind.”

“I think he’s just upset because cats don’t get along with dogs,” Kai said to Dog, continuing on with brushing her.

“I’m going to leave dead mice in your boots again,” Xanas said.

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Dragon Age, authors choice, how about no

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Stargate Multiverse, Any, Busier than a one-armed paralegal


::winks::

Fill 1/2: Lawyer AU + crossover

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

Daniel wasn’t sure what to think when he showed up to the office and there was a laminated piece of paper on his desk titled Basic Disability Etiquette Tips. That kind of preparedness had Lorne written all over it, but Lorne was John and Anne’s paralegal, and Daniel couldn’t begin to guess why he’d need tips on interacting with disabled people. As far as he knew, none of his clients were disabled. But he sat down at his desk, emptied his briefcase of the files he’d need for the day, and scanned the sheet.

In the doorway, Lorne cleared his throat. “Mr. Jackson.”

Daniel lifted his head. “Good morning, Lorne.”

Standing beside Lorne was a young man Daniel had never seen before. He had dark hair, military short, grey eyes, an Eastern European cast to his features - and was missing his left arm, his left sleeve pinned up neatly.

“Mr. Jackson, this is Bucky, your new paralegal.”

And Daniel remembered Jack’s threat, to get him a paralegal so he’d stop running himself ragged.

Daniel rose up, offered his hand to Bucky. “Pleased to meet you, Bucky. You can call me Daniel.” Jack had informed Daniel on his first day at WOW that trying to get Lorne to call anyone by their first name was a losing battle.

“Hi, Daniel.” Bucky smiled tentatively, and the expression was all wrong, broken. Daniel recognized the distant look in his eyes, had seen it in Jack’s eyes, many years ago, when they were locked in a jail cell together on hot desert sand.

“Let me know if you need anything,” Lorne said to Bucky, who nodded absently.

“Come on in,” Daniel said. “Jack told me you were coming, but he didn’t say when, so you’ll have to give me a moment while I think up some things for you to do.”

Bucky nodded and perched tentatively on the chair opposite Daniel’s desk, notepad balanced on his knee, pen poised to write. Daniel wondered how long he’d been back, how long he’d been dealing with the loss of his arm.

Daniel booted up his computer. “Did Jack explain what it is I do?”

Bucky shook his head.

Daniel gave him the spiel he gave most of his child-clients, about how his job was two-fold, to represent their wishes and desires to the court, but also their best interests, and how their best interests came first. He also explained the work he did as a translator. Bucky took notes. He had neat, blocky print, wrote quickly.

Daniel opened his calendar and stared at his upcoming appointments. Nothing pinged. He opened his caseload and winced at how awash in red it was. “Here’s something you can do for me that I’ve urgently needed done for a while. I’m out of compliance on a bunch of my home visits. I will share my caseload spreadsheet with you. Contact the placement for every child whose name is in red and set up home visits. Prioritize them by court date - I’d like to see each child before their next review hearing. What’s your email address?”

Bucky’s real name was James Buchanan Barnes, so his email address was barnes.j.b.@woolsey-oneill-weir.com. Daniel sent him the link to his caseload spreadsheet.

“If you could get on that, I will think up other things for you to do later.”

“Yes, sir,” Bucky said, with that same deference Lorne said it. Bucky was definitely ex-military, then.

“Thank you,” Daniel said. Bucky left Daniel’s office quietly, but reappeared fifteen minutes later with a mug of coffee, just how Daniel liked it. Daniel suspected Lorne’s hand in that. And in the mid-morning cupcake Bucky brought, and the lunch Bucky ordered in when one of Daniel’s phone staffings ran over, and the mid-afternoon coffee and pastry.

Sam paused in Daniel’s doorway after Bucky departed. “I see I wasn’t the only one who got one of those.” She nodded to the laminated sheet on Daniel’s desk, that he’d turned face down so Bucky wouldn’t see.

“You know Lorne,” Daniel said. “Always so, so efficient.”

And he was passing that efficiency on to Bucky, apparently, who set Daniel a morning update - number of calls made, number of appointments made - and an afternoon update as well.

Jack stopped by Daniel’s office. “So, what do you think?”

“Of my new paralegal? He seems more than adequate.”

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard +/ Rodney McKay,

I told you
That we could fly
'Cause we all have wings
But some of us don't know why
(INXS)

Fill. Stargate: Atlantis, David Sheppard, John Sheppard, Patrick Sheppard. Wing AU.

[aivix.livejournal.com]

Dave was seven when John came home, ten when he learned why their father kept his brother so close—

“We can never let him show them, okay?”

“Why?”

“Because,” Patrick sighed, “he won't be safe.”

—and twelve when he realized what it would mean to be John's big brother.

He didn't understand why he had to go outside in the summer heat with a shirt on, with the tiny little compression shirt their father had found and John loathed; he didn't understand why he couldn't just go swimming like Dave did, in his shorts and nothing else.

And with every cry as Dave physically dragged John back into their house lest the caretakers see him, he felt his heart break a little more.

It wasn't fair.

This wasn't fair, that John couldn't just be John.

“I'm sorry,” he muttered, tearing up, “I'm sorry,” but in his head, all he heard was, Keep him safe. Keep John safe. The litany, internal and verbal, only ended once they were in John's bedroom, both of them on the floor by his bed; Dave held his brother close and whispered, “I wish it was different.”

John murmured back, “Why aren't you and Daddy like me? Why is it me?”

“I don't know. I wish I did.”

---

John fell asleep that night in their father's bed, worn out and still red-eyed from crying.

“I know it must have been hard, David, but you did very well with him today.” Patrick offered him a sip of his evening whiskey, a small show of pride in the young man.

Dave, however, quietly asked to be excused for the evening, and as he crept into his father's room, curling up beside his brother on the covers of the bed, he wished he had wings too... if only to make John feel less alone.

---

When hangers, cheesecloth, glue, sewing needles, thread, and a package of markers went missing, Patrick was curious, but not enough to go looking for the supplies: one or both of his boys were up to something and as long as neither the house nor themselves were damaged, they were welcome to have their secret project.

Then the feathers John molted now and then started to disappear.

A quick and dirty search of the house found the feathers and a half-finished pair of homemade wings in the cubby under the stairs that Dave used to hide presents and other items, and Patrick leaned into the spot, a mix of emotions running through him.

Oh, David, he thought, torn between leaving the craft be and destroying it. Then the fleeting sense of danger slipped away and he thought of how long Dave had to have worked, what would have started it, why he would have, and Patrick couldn't do anything to harm them.

(The summer was coming to a close when Patrick saw the wings next, completed and on to Dave's back with straps made of a ripped up tee shirt: it was nighttime, the staff all gone for the day, and not even the horses were out to hear how John giggled as he ran around their junebug lit yard. Dave gave chase, scooping up his brother now and then to tickle and release.

He could've broken it up and sent them inside, could have reminded Dave that though their house was mostly secluded, any one could walk up, but instead, Patrick leaned against the porch railing and watched, committing to memory what he couldn't take a photo of.)

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Any, Any, “There's something you need to know. Compared to you, most people have the IQ of a carrot.”

Fill 1/2: college AU, tw: reference to past child abuse

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

“There’s something you need to know,” Jackson said.

John blinked. He’d been counting the seconds for twenty-seven minutes. Twenty-seven and a half, actually. Had Jackson been counting them too? Impeccable timing. John settled back in the chair with what he knew was his most infuriating smirk on his face. He’d seen Officer Weir clench her fists at the smirk on his face.

“What?”

“Compared to you, most people have the IQ of a carrot.”

“So?”

“Having a high IQ doesn’t make you smart at everything.”

John huffed. “Is this the part where you tell me I need more life experience, that I’m still young and have a lot to learn about the world?”

“Sounds like you already know that.” Jackson shrugged. “Whether or not you believe it, on the other hand, is another matter.”

John eyed Jackson. “You think you know me because we’re both from Southie? You think you hide your accent, and it’s mostly gone, but not gone enough.”

“And you read my biography on the back of one of my books,” Jackson drawled, amused. He had pretty blue eyes. Not as pretty as Rodney’s, but -

No. John couldn’t afford to get distracted. He understood what this was. Dr. Carter thought if she tamed John, made him nice, made him socially acceptable, she’d get to keep him. She was wrong.

“You read my file,” John shot back. “Let me guess: John has antisocial personality traits, is oppositional defiant, exhibits symptoms of ADD, and has attachment issues.”

Jackson raised his eyebrows. “You want to know what your file says?”

John had never been allowed to see it, though he knew he had the right to. “Surprise me.”

Jackson turned and pulled open one of his cabinet drawers, poked around, came up with a familiar brown Social Services file. He flipped it open, rifled through several documents, and cleared his throat.

“‘Subject is a caucasian male, late teens, presents appropriately groomed and dressed, oriented as to person, place and time. Subject is defensive, presents as overly-positive, but with self-deprecating undertones. Subject exhibits symptoms of post-traumatic stress-disorder consistent with childhood physical abuse, such as hyper-arousal that is mis-diagnosed as attention deficit disorder. Subject exhibits some symptoms of reactive attachment disorder but does not meet the criteria for a full diagnosis of the disorder.’”

John swallowed hard, forced his limbs to relax. “There it is, then. Me in a nutshell. A few words on a page, and you have me all figured out. I’ve heard it all before.”

Jackson offered up the file. “There’s more, if you want to see.”

John searched Jackson’s gaze. There was no mockery, no challenge. A genuine offer. Granted, for seven weeks, Jackson had sat in total silence with John. The guy was persistent, and disgustingly sincere. John plucked the file from Jackson’s hands. So this was it. This was what the social workers had passed around to each other, to his foster parents, so they’d know what they were dealing with, how to handle him.

John read through the diagnosis further. It was damn accurate, but it was all just - words. Those words couldn’t begin to encapsulate all he’d seen, all he’d done, all that had been done to him. He was his own man, now.

He closed the file to hand it back and paused.

The name on the tab was Jackson, Daniel M.

John glanced up at Jackson, but the man’s expression was calm.

John opened the file again, sure it was a trick, but the name on the front of the psych eval was Jackson’s. The court reports, the school reports - all for Daniel Jackson. The pictures were of a boy who vaguely resembled Jackson. Kid had longer, blonder hair, dorkier glasses. It was easy to see how that kid had grown into the man sitting opposite John.

There was a picture for every year, like a child-size mug-shot. Jackson had been in the system from eight to sixteen. Watching him grow up, solemn-faced, was oddly intimate. John glanced at Jackson again, but the man looked completely unruffled by John’s perusal of his Social Services file. John flipped through the file some more and paused. At the photographs. The bruises and the cuts and the burns.

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Any, Any,

And you think you're a guest, you're a tourist at best
Peering into the corners of my dark life
(Elvis Costello with Brian Eno)

Fill: SGA/Kings, Kate Heightmeyer on Jack Benjamin

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

Chapter 6 of Somewhere Better (http://archiveofourown.org/works/7586332/chapters/18670114)

[3am-moonlight.livejournal.com]

Buffy the Vampire Slayer/The Walking Dead, Buffy Summers /+ Daryl Dixon,

Yeah I hit a wall, I prayed that I would make it through, make it through
I can't survive a life that's without you, that's without you, yeah
And I will rise up from the ashes now, the ashes now
Oh, the sparrow flies with just the crumbs of loving spilled, yeah

I was bracing for the pain and then I let it go
I gathered all my strength and I found myself whole
("Sledgehammer" by Rihanna)