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Now it's time for the free for all!

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 spoiler cut.
If there are possible triggers in your story, please warn for them in the subject line!

Prompts should be formatted as follows: [Use the character's full names and fandom's full name]
Fandom, Character +/ Character, Prompt


Have fun!
Page 1 of 3 << [1] [2] [3] >>

Date: 2016-08-27 05:27 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] daria234.livejournal.com
MCU, Steve/any male or Tony/any male, for your own good

Date: 2016-08-27 05:57 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bugeyedmonster.livejournal.com
MCU Natasha Romanoff/OC male. Natasha has discovered a disadvantage to having a non-meta human for a boyfriend/ significant other. People keep trying to kidnap him. Stop already. She's tired of blowing up stuff, and she needs to get more bullets. (Because I was watching Brandon Flowers "Crossfire" video.)

Date: 2016-08-27 06:15 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] streussal.livejournal.com
Revolutionary Girl Utena, Kozue +/ Miki, "I don't hate him the way he hates me. How could I? I understand him. He hates me because he doesn't understand me at all."

Date: 2016-08-27 06:17 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] streussal.livejournal.com
Revolutionary Girl Utena, Shiori/Juri, power lies with whoever cares least. that's the only lesson i never learned to disregard. --Elisabeth Hewer

Date: 2016-08-27 06:19 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] streussal.livejournal.com
Revolutionary Girl Utena, Anthy + Akio, "There are two types of love. True love, and the love we actually get."

Date: 2016-08-27 06:39 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] laurose8.livejournal.com
Josephine Tey's Inspector Grant series,Grant /or+ any, wedding

Date: 2016-08-27 06:45 am (UTC)
ext_25867: jared padalecki with my username on it. (Justified: Boyd Crowder)
From: [identity profile] lorilann.livejournal.com
Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Ray Holt & Jake Peralta, how they spend their days in Florida

Date: 2016-08-27 06:52 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] untldeathtakeme.livejournal.com
Doctor Who, Twelve/any or gen, help I think this small creature has imprinted on me make it stop

Date: 2016-08-27 06:58 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] untldeathtakeme.livejournal.com
Any, any, singed and tattered wings

Half a fill - Aziraphale/Crowley, Good Omens

Date: 2019-06-26 02:39 am (UTC)
ext_442164: Colourful balloons (Tangled)
From: [identity profile] with-rainfall.livejournal.com
Warning for bodily injuries. Historical inaccuracies probably abound, and are all mine. Characters belong to Neil and Pterry.

———

I. The Priory of Saint Nazaire, England, 1329

There was a thump. A hundred and fifty-four pounds of unconscious man, complete with black doublet, landed in the dormitory of The Priory of St Nazaire.

There were shocked exclamations; several monks muttered Hail Marys and crossed themselves.

Aziraphale started forward to help, and froze. It was Crowley, in the incarnation he’d had since the eighth century; Aziraphale would know the long, lean planes of that face anywhere.

Burns were visible on the dark skin - old ones, half-healed, and new wounds that wept pus and blood. He reeked of sulfur. The black hair, usually so sleek, was matted with filth, dead flies and encrusted ichor. His breaths came shallowly.

“He needs the infirmarian,” Brother Thomas was saying, gesticulating frantically to Brother Lambert to lift Crowley up.

“Wait! I - I know some healing,” blurted Aziraphale, like a fool.

“Brother Ezra,” rumbled Brother Thomas, in his calm, cool voice. “This man needs medical care. Whatever herblore you know won’t be enough. Look at how badly he’s hurt.”

“I know,” snapped Aziraphale, then regretted it as half a dozen monks turned to stare at him. Damn it, why had all this happened in such a public place? Every second Crowley lay there was a second too late.

Was pretending to have a visitation from God a good idea? Perhaps not. That was a bridge too far, in his view, and would verge on blasphemy, not to mention leading to uncomfortable questions from Up There. Other angels had been recalled and interrogated for less.

He gathered all his courage and summoned a hint of angelic persuasion. Then he made them *forget*. As they drifted away to in pairs, muttering vaguely, Aziraphale sighed with relief. That had been a close one - there were always one or two who hung around wondering what it was they couldn’t see. Especially if you were stressed.

Then gently, gently and without a flicker of guilt at his extravagance, he miracled Crowley onto a hastily conjured bed — not a sleeping bag with sheets, but a proper canopied bed, made of eiderdown and fine cotton, with three pillows and warm fur blankets. He would come up with a lie for Upstairs later.

The demon’s wings were charred and flaking, tattered almost beyond repair. Thank God - someone - that Crowley had landed on unconsecrated ground. If he’d materialised inside the chapel he would’ve been burned to death before he could wake.

He didn’t dare miracle the demon’s wings clean, not with enough sulphuric fumes rising off Crowley to make Aziraphale feel ill.

Damn it, what was he supposed to do? It wasn’t like he could heal holy water. And he couldn’t keep him here, like this, on display to any human who might walk past while he was at service, or at meals, or — anywhere, other than right beside him. The forgetting would only work as long as Aziraphale was there to keep it up.

For a mad second, he debated simply leaving the demon there, to be found or discorporated, then discarded the idea. This wasn’t 5000 BC anymore. He couldn’t pretend they were arch-enemies and walk away. Not Crowley, never Crowley, who had been his only constant friend for the past five millennia.

He brushed Crowley’s face with a wet cloth, and flinched as Crowley cried out and shifted. “It’s alright,” he murmured. “Just a cloth, my dear.“ He had no idea how his friend’s wings would react even to ordinary water, and didn’t want to find out. So he cleaned Crowley’s face and hair as best he could, feeling as though he was ripping a piece of his heart out with every moan Crowley gave.
Edited Date: 2019-06-26 02:44 am (UTC)

Date: 2016-08-27 07:11 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] untldeathtakeme.livejournal.com
Any, any,
And with a broken wing
She still sings
She keeps an eye over the sky
With a broken wing
She carries her dreams
Man you oughta see her fly
(Martina McBride)
Edited Date: 2016-08-27 06:35 pm (UTC)

FILL: SPN, Mary Winchester

Date: 2016-09-03 05:58 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cozy-coffee.livejournal.com
She is alone in this great big world. No soulmate to take her into their arms and sing to her a lullaby to ease the hurt. She shivers, her broken wings fluttering in the gentle rain. She cries out into the silent night, wailing with a broken heart. She wanted to spread her wings and fly away, she wanted to get out of the job, the life; she hated it. She wanted freedom from the nightmares and the blood and sadness, shelter from the deadly life she was brought up in. A life that never filled her heart with joy. She spreads her broken wings and tries to fly far, far away. Her heart sings to her to try, please, please try little one. Get out, get away from this snarling life that seeks to rip your to shreds. Find shelter elsewhere. Have fun, smile, turn your face to the sun and bath in its rich, warm light. Spread your broken wings and learn to fly. She wanted a family, wanted to be safe. She might have been damned, but she would not curse her children as well. She would not raise her two boys the way she was raised; like little toy soldiers. No, not her little baby angels. She would see to it that they would never know fear or death. She would spread her broken wings and fly away, to a place where angels sing and dance and happiness filled her sorrowful heart. She would get her happily ever after, even if it killed her.

Mary’s aesthetic (https://66.media.tumblr.com/4ca62bc9016d8b9f8018a8bc4c527dbc/tumblr_ocxvlyH4bt1smzecao1_1280.png)

(END)

Date: 2016-08-27 08:20 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] profshallowness.livejournal.com
Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley/Neville Longbottom, choices

Date: 2016-08-27 08:21 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] profshallowness.livejournal.com
Any, any, shopping for bridesmaids dresses turned out to be a lot of fun,

Date: 2016-08-27 08:25 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] profshallowness.livejournal.com
ER, Neela Rasgotra/Ray Barnett, SPACE! AU - they don't share an apartment, they share a/an ----------

Date: 2016-08-27 08:47 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] doreyg.livejournal.com
Daredevil (TV), Elektra Nachios/Karen Page, I move through town, I’m quiet like a fight

Date: 2016-08-27 08:47 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] doreyg.livejournal.com
Shardlake series – CJ Sansom, Tamasin/Jack Barak/Matthew Shardlake, Tamasin helps to solve a crime

Date: 2016-08-27 08:48 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] doreyg.livejournal.com
Blake and Avery Adventures – MJ Carter, Jeremiah Blake/William Avery, if only

Date: 2016-08-27 08:49 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] doreyg.livejournal.com
The Restoration Series – Edward Marston, Jonathan Bale/Christopher Redmayne, sex pollen

Date: 2016-08-27 08:49 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] doreyg.livejournal.com
The Devil in the Marshalsea – Antonia Hodgson, Samuel Fleet/Thomas Hawkins, the taste of wine on the tongue

Date: 2016-08-27 09:03 am (UTC)

Date: 2016-08-27 09:16 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] emmatheslayer.livejournal.com
One direction rpf, zayn malik/Harry styles, , suicide squad au where zayn is the joker and Harry is Harley Quinn
Page 1 of 3 << [1] [2] [3] >>

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