srs2012 | Bonus Round 1

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Bonus Round 1

You better promise me I’ll be back in time...

Welcome to our official bonus round one. Bonus Round 0 is now officially closed! Don’t worry, though – BR0.5 is open for one more week alongside this round. This time, the theme is historical settings.

If you have an idea for something you’d like to see, please leave a time period, the characters involved and any other details as a PROMPT below. Then read through everyone else’s prompts, and leave a FILL for any which catch your eye. Fills can be in any media, and they need not be long, but please put a little effort in – if anyone starts spamming this post for points, we’ll be able to tell.

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You will be awarded five points per prompt for the first five prompts you leave. The first three fills posted for each prompt will receive 15 points, the next three 10 points, and the next three 5 points. Prompts with ten or more fills will no longer receive fill points.

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Bonus round fills can include links provided they are publicly viewable. Works can also be cross-posted to other websites, as there is no anonymity requirement in bonus rounds. However, works posted directly to comments will be limited to 16,000 characters by the Dreamwidth comment limit. Longer works should therefore be divided between multiple comments.

Remember, Team Chuck can participate in bonus rounds, and if you change teams, points earned will transfer with you until the end of the team shuffle period.

Edit: This round is now closed. You may still leave fills if you wish to, but no further points will be awarded.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Inspired by the film "Black Book." Sarah is Jewish and a spy for the Resistance in the Nazi-occupied Netherlands in order to avenge the deaths of her family, using the alias Jessica van der Meer and dying her hair blonde. She meets Capt. Samuel Waetcher, a man far more interested in ending senseless violence than the goals of the Nazi party. Sarah/Jess starts a relationship with Sam in order to get a job at Nazi HQ; Sam quickly uncovers her secret but doesn't turn her in, having secretly been negotiating with the Resistance to try and stop the fighting. However, with the Allied forces swiftly advancing and discoveries about the plot that killed Sarah/Jess' parents coming to light, it's only a matter of time before everything comes crashing down. Take the prompt as strictly or as loosely as you like! Not too fussed about pairings either.

Of course you can, sweetheart! You're very welcome <3

It's 1977 and in Atlanta, GA a group has been organized to fight the greatest menace to civilization-- National Families in Action is going to end this marijuana menace once and for all! At a local high school, everyone-- from the drug dealers like Crowley to the you'd never think he'd smoke pot but he's totally cool with it Cas to the uptight narc Michael-- thinks the whole thing is a bit ridiculous. When someone suggests they form their own high school chapter that makes fun of everything the anti-drug movement is saying, people immediately jump on board, because this is high school and being a smart aleck is all part of the fun. But when the name "Lovers in League Against Satan" sort of sticks as the name, it starts to cause problems for Sam, seeing as he's dating the devil and all. Cracky or serious as you like

(idek I'm sorry this prompt seemed like a good idea before I actually typed it out)

Edited (typo) 2012-11-27 04:25 (UTC)

Hot Mess as No Doubt
Lead Vocals - Jo Harvelle
Guitar/Background Vocals - Dean Winchester
Bass - Castiel Novak
Drums - Ash Miles

Track 1. Bathwater
Track 2. Settle Down
Track 3. Just A Girl
Track 4. Don't Speak
Track 5. It's My Life
Track 6. Spiderwebs
Track 7. Hella Good

Hot Mess was formed by Jo Harvelle and Castiel Novak in 1997 when they found themselves with some extra time during their sophomore year at community college. Jo could sing and Cas could play bass, but they needed more than that to be a real band. After holding hours and hours worth of auditions, they found the heartthrob, Dean Winchester, who not only could play guitar, but he could sing as well. Now all they needed was a drummer; however, none of the people they found could even hold two drumsticks in their hands without faltering. Luckily, Jo's long time best friend from back home had been playing for years and when she went back during the holidays, she recruited him too.

Within no time, the band was playing shows around town, eventually landing a gig at a pretty big name club which got the attention of Gabriel Angel, the owner of Heaven Record Company. He was particularly interested in Miss Harvelle's stage presence and chemistry with her band-mates, something many bands at the time were lacking. After moving to California and signing with their new label, Hot Mess began playing all over, releasing three albums in just three years with over twenty hit songs by the time the year 2000 hit.

Of course, being in the spotlight and living the lifestyle of the rich and famous paid a toll on their personal lives and when Jo and Dean's romantic relationship made headlines, the band split up due to...artistic differences.

Nonetheless, Hot Mess impacted the 90s and early 2000s greater than any other pop band in history with their innovative sound, style and of course the drama that got them even more famous than their music ever did.

(All music by No Doubt)

Edited 2012-11-27 06:49 (UTC)

Must have cool cars and undercover hijinx. Gen or whatever pairings preferred by author.

Exactly what it sounds like. Gwen Campbell fighting for women's right to vote (time period anywhere from around 1840s to 1920). Gen or whatever fairings preferred by author.

Sam is a painter and Castiel is his newest model, but unlike all the rest Sam can't get Castiel's beauty out of his head.

The world is a state of chaos and Adam is beginning to think his boyhood friend Michael is an enemy against his beloved country.

Castiel is coming home and can't wait to see the love of his life Sam.

The news-boys are on strike. Dean is being pushed to desert John because he is one of the people they are protesting but Dean can't bring himself to leave.

Adam is the school nerd that everyone picks on, until one day where one of the arms that use to hurt him brings him comfort instead.

Ash sighs and steps back from his work. The women looks down at him with soulful eyes. Her curls (he imagines they are golden) fall artfully down past her shoulders in a loose tumble. She is wrapped in a shawl that she clutches with long, slender fingers, one one foot peeks out from under her gown.

“Oh, Jo,” he says, brushing dust from his forehead, “will you ever be mine? Will I ever find a woman in this city who possesses your virtue?”

He reaches up to caress her cheek with his hand. Her skin is smooth and unblemished, but it is also cold and unforgiving marble.

Ash turns away, collecting his tools and the cloth he keeps on the floor while he works. Jo has been his project for months now, occupying all his free time.

Time, he is assured by his advisors and family, that should be spent searching for a wife to bear him an heir.

Ash has tried. He has walked the streets of the city alone and surrounded by guards, dressed as himself and in disguise. All this in search of a woman befitting a king. He longs for a maiden who will care for him as a person rather than a king. Too often have women greeted him with the glint of gold in their eyes, already planning how they will use his wealth and title to satisfy their own desires. They flatter themselves endlessly, or throw themselves at any passing man when they are in search of companionship.

The king had tired of the work of it and began to retire to his garden to drink wine and carve. He ordered a block of the purest, whitest marble that could be found, and there in the sunshine and the rain he sought her, buried deep within the rock. With every chip that fell away, his heart grew. He imagined her face, her body, her laughter, and he fell in love with the girl that emerged from the stone.

She was perfect, but she would never be able to take his arm and walk beside him, or join him at a feast. He was forever doomed to admire her here in the garden and nowhere else.

“Sir,” comes a voice from the doorway. “The festival will be starting soon. You have to prepare.”

He sighs again and turns away from Jo, who continues to look on with infinite patience. Sam means well. He is the most understanding of those close to Ash. Dean has only recently stopped bringing women to meet with him, despite Ash’s protests. More often than not, they wind up more interested in Dean than in him, which he understands. They are fickle creatures, attracted to his strong jaw and broad shoulders.

Not like my Jo, he thinks to himself.

He bathes and dresses in his finest clothes, edged in deep purple. A gold crown of laurel wreaths sits upon his head. He smiles, waves, and does his best to appear to be in high spirits. He is beloved on the island, regarded as a fair ruler who does cares for his people. This festival has been organized to give thanks to Aphrodite, but also for Ash to give thanks to his people for their love, and for them to give thanks to him.

It’s the warmest part of summer, and the festival begins at sunset. There is wine and song, breads and fruits and oils provide a wonderful and aromatic feast. People gather around the temple, bringing their families and loved ones to join in the celebration. There are toasts, and speeches. Ash wishes his people continued prosperity, a good harvest, and safety from potential dangers.

As the evening continues into night, people leave the festival to return to their families and friends. Ash’s closest companions remain, but break off into small groups. There under the stars they talk and drink, sing or engage in more intimate activities. Ash watches, alone, imaging that his love was real and there beside him.

No one notices when he takes his chalice of wine and slips away, following the winding path up to Aphrodite’s temple. The stairs are covered with offerings that he carefully steps over as he makes his way inside.

The center is lit with torches in honor of the festival, and for a moment he simply stands and looks up at the ceiling.

“Beautiful Aphrodite, thank you for all that you have given me and my people. We love you, and under my command we have given you this festival to celebrate your beauty and your love.”

He starts with confidence, but finds now that his voice shrinks and falters.

“I have never asked for anything. You have always been generous, giving my people prosperity and giving me enough riches and power to guide them wisely. But I am lonely. The women of this place do not entice me, neither in mind nor in body. I long for a virtuous woman, with eyes that gaze on me as no one else, and a heart greater than all my lands.

“I have been a fool,” he continues. “I have carved my perfect wife in marble. She stands in my courtyard, but she lives in my heart. I love her, but I can never have her.”

He pauses, drawing a deep breath and blowing it out slowly. “I would pray that you find a way to give me my Jo, or a woman who is her equal in every way. I do not know how I can love someone so much when I have never met her, but I do, and now no other woman will suffice.”

Ash pours his wine out onto the floor as an offering. He stands for a moment in silent contemplation again before turning and leaving the temple.

Dean meets him on the path back to his home. He is embracing two dark-haired women. Both are young and comely, undeniably attractive, but they only have eyes for Dean. He grins when he sees Ash.

“Would you like to join us?” He calls as Ash walks past them. “We were going to go watch the ocean.”

There is sincerity in his offer, but Ash doesn’t even respond. He wants as little to do with those women as they will want to do with him. He continues on until he is back in the comfort of his garden.

Moonlight spills into the courtyard and his beloved statue appears to all but glow. Ash leans against a pillar and watches her. He would give all his riches, all his power, years of his life if only she would move. He is doomed to spend the rest of his days in the company of a woman who is forever split in two. Her body is here before him, formed in stone, but her perfect spirit exists only in his heart and mind.

Overcome with sadness, he crosses the courtyard and embraces the statue. She remains resolutely on her pedestal as he weeps, clutching at her hips and begging her to breathe.

He is stilled by a hand in his hair. The marble has turned warm against his cheek, and when the statue shifts in his embrace he stumbles backwards.

Jo smiles at him, as warm and loving as he had imagined. She plucks at her skirts and looks down over the edge of her pedestal.

“Can you help me down?” she asks, and his heart stops at the sound of her voice, like bells and the crash of the ocean and the most perfect music. “First steps. I don’t want to fall.”

He wills his legs to go to her, and after a moment’s hesitation he is beside her. He takes her by the waist and lifts her down, and when she is safely on the ground she leaves her hands on his shoulders.

“Am I dreaming?” He asks as his eyes search her face. The roses on her cheeks and the warm honey of her eyes are beyond his wildest imaginings, and he hopes never to wake.

She laughs, and smiles, and new tears well up in his eyes. “No, Ash,” she reassures him, brushing away his tears with the back of her hand. “Aphrodite heard your prayer. She was so moved by your love for me that she wanted to end your loneliness.” She takes a step back and motions to her figure, draped in pale cloth and exactly as he created her. “Here I am.”

Ash opens his mouth to speak. He almost doesn’t ask, for fear of her answer.

“And, do you love me?”

She tilts her head and moves to stand before him again. Her hands are warm and soft when she cups his face, and her lips are impossibly sweet when she presses them to his own.

“Of course. All the love you had for me found my heart inside that stone. I have waiting for the day when I could show you how much I love you.”

He wraps his arms around her and holds her close. She smells sweet, and everything about her is soft and lovely and perfect. They stand together in the moonlight, holding each other and enjoying their love, and somewhere high up above, Aphrodite smiles.

Edited 2012-11-27 17:27 (UTC)

Castiel fidgets on the deck, brushing spray off his shoulders and out of his eyes.

“I haven’t seen you this worried about your uniform in three years, Cas.” Gabriel elbows him good-naturedly, and Castiel tries to smile, but his stomach is a tiny ball, anxious and uncertain but shot through with stubborn hope.

“Jerry never seemed to care how I kept my uniform, Gabe,” he replies. They stand side by side, their eyes scanning the New York City skyline. Home, after jumping out of a airplane into northern France, fighting their way through Europe, and then helping liberate everyone that the Nazis had captured.

It had been a massive undertaking, and Castiel had been first in line to serve his country. It had not been a unanimous decision, and now all he can think about is all the unanswered letters he’s sent, and the look on Sam’s face when he’d gotten on the train that day.

“That must be some girl you got waitin’”. Gabriel grins and breathes deep. This is his hometown, and there will be a whole family waiting for him. Castiel has seen photos and been read letters.

“Sam’s coming in from Kansas,” Castiel replies, his eyes still on the approaching shore. He sees no need to correct his friend. That Sam is a man is something Gabriel knows, but something they never talk about around the others. He’s very understanding, and Castiel is grateful. Others would be less forgiving.

“Look, Cas, I know I said this before, but if something happens-”

“He’ll be here.”

“If something happens, my family would love to meet you, feed you dinner, and hear all about the hero their son has been following through Europe. You’re practically family now.”

Castiel ducks his head and grins. Gabriel wrote often to his brothers, sister, and father, telling them as much as he could, regaling them with the often unflattering stories of sharing a foxhole. Castiel wants to meet them too, and he hopes there will be time for that later, but it’s not his top priority.

He wrote to Sam once a week, lying in a foxhole writing by moonlight or sitting in the relative comfort of a tent or an abandoned house. Mail was unpredictable and troops were always moving, but he’d seen others get responses. That he never heard back from Sam had not stopped him in his writing. If anything it made the letters more honest and open, since he was certain that they no longer had an audience.

The ship brakes and turns, slowly coming in to the dock. There are dignitaries and cars, and a good-sized crowd in the park. Bunting and flags decorate the gangplanks and fences. Girls are wearing their Sunday best, and the men are in suits and uniforms. They’re still too far away to see, but that doesn’t stop Castiel from scanning the crowd, looking for someone standing tall among the others. He used to tease Sam about his height, but now he’d give anything to see that he was there.

Their company makes its way off the boat, chatting and waving, duffel bags slung over their shoulders. Gabriel walks straight into a huge group of people, hugging and crying. Castiel nods to his superior officer, then heads down towards land and the crowd. His heart is in his throat as he steps one way, then another, jostled by overeager comrades who just want to see their loved ones again. Not everyone is here to greet someone in particular; lots of people come to greet every ship, wanting every soldier to feel welcome. Castiel is offered flowers, and pretty girls offer to kiss him. He takes a rose, but laughs nervously and declines the offer of a kiss.

He smooths a hand over his tie yet again, and plucks off his hat. The sun is shining in full force, and a brass band is playing further up the park. It’s a proper celebration, but as Castiel moves through the crowd he wants nothing more than to find a secluded spot and cry.

Sam isn’t anywhere to be seen.

He swallows back tears and turns to where Gabriel’s family had been. The young redhead is Anna, he remembers. She always sent pressed flowers with her notes. The tall blondes are Luke and Mike. They’d served in Italy and North Africa, and come home sooner. Gabriel was the last one home, and now they swarmed around him, patting him on the back and hugging him as they weren’t sure he was real.

Castiel stands and watches them. He’ll go to them, he thinks. Soon. Just not yet. He’s not ready to face the question that he knows will be in Gabriel’s eyes when he appears so soon after disembarking.

“Cas?”

Castiel’s eyes fall closed and he shakes his head. He’s so desperate for Sam to be here that he’s hearing things. He runs his hand over his face and turns away from Gabriel’s family.

Sam is standing a few feet away. He’s wearing a suit and tie, and possibly the shiniest shoes Castiel has ever seen him in. He cut his hair, and he looks tan and strong. He is exactly as beautiful as Castiel remembers.

He’s holding a pile of envelopes, tied in a bundle with string. He looks down at them, then closes the distance between them, holding the pile out to Castiel.

“Every time I tried to send one, it came back,” he says, and in his face Castiel can see mirrored the same pain and fear that he feels in his own. “I thought... I thought I’d at least come here and give them to you.”

He shoves the letters against Castiel’s chest and turns to go, but Castiel catches his hand. It’s a bold move, but he doesn’t care.

“I thought of you every day,” Castiel says, looking up into Sam’s eyes. “It kept me alive in France, when we were surrounded. I wanted to live so I could see your face again and tell you I love you.”

No one around them is listening. They’re too caught up in their own reunions to notice two lost souls finding each other again.

Sam pulls him into a firm embrace. To onlookers they could be friends or brothers. Castiel wants nothing more than to kiss away the hot tears he feels rolling down Sam’s cheeks, but that will have to wait.

“Did you get my letters?” Castiel asks. Sam nods and Castiel can feel his smile.

“I got a hotel room,” Sam says. “I don’t know if... I mean if you don’t want...”

“I want,” Castiel answers. “I love you,” he whispers, giving Sam a final squeeze before letting go.

“I love you, too, Cas. Welcome home.”

They start to leave when Gabriel comes running up to them. “Cas! Is this him? He came?”

Castiel flinches at the implication that he’d told someone he was afraid Sam might not come, but Sam just smiles and extends his hand.

“Well, if you’re not Gabriel then I don’t know who is.”

Gabriel shakes his hand enthusiastically, then points a thumb back over his shoulder. “You two want to come with us, get some dinner? My dad’s making a roast, and there’s champagne.”

Sam looks from Gabriel to Castiel for an answer. Castiel smiles and shakes his head. “What about tomorrow? We’re, umm, staying in tonight.”

He can feel the blush on his face, but Gabriel just nods. “You have our address. Just knock on the door. You are both always welcome.”

He waves and runs off, back to his family. Sam walks beside Castiel out of the park and hails a cab. He gives the driver the address, and the driver informs them that returning soldiers ride free in his cab. Castiel doesn’t know much about New York City, but “uptown” sounds fancy. He hopes Sam hasn’t spent too much money.

As soon as the cab pulls away from the curb, Sam sets his hand on the seat beside Castiel’s thigh, and Castiel covers it with his own. Sam is warm and real and here, already more than Castiel had dared to hope for.

Edited 2012-11-27 18:15 (UTC)

While watching the humans dying around them, two angels discuss humanity's fragility.

Edited 2012-11-29 03:10 (UTC)

Dean is wounded and temporarily blinded in the trenches in France. The closest hospital is overflowing with casualties, so he is taken in by Ruby, a former nurse who lives nearby.

Edited 2012-11-29 03:11 (UTC)

The unlikely story of Gabriel, a nobleman's son who left the family to live life on his own terms, and Anna, a highborn lady who wants nothing more than to become a knight.

During the Revolution, two servants are caught up in the house arrest of the Tsar and his family. (Could be demons stirring up a frenzy, could be bored angels, or just two unfortunate humans.)

In a family of their size, it was bound to happen; death was all around them, impossible to escape. The Novaks had been lucky; none of the seven children had been infected, and neither had their father. Until now.

The cellar had been cleaned out to avoid contamination and a cot had been hastily arranged in the corner. The doctor had advised total isolation and avoidance when the rest of the Novaks refused to throw one of their own into the streets to die. It made little difference to Gabriel, though; either way, he was going to die alone.

His father and siblings had all said their goodbyes in one way or another. Anna and Balthazar had even sat on the steps to speak with him before Anna developed a cough and their father forbade anyone else from approaching the cellar for fear of losing another of his children. Not that Gabriel could really blame him; he wouldn’t wish this on one of his siblings.

His whole life, Gabriel’s family had been telling him he would die horribly due to his troublemaking. Stop playing games with the horses, Gabriel, one day you won’t get out of the way in time and you’ll be trampled to death; what were you thinking, climbing so high?! You’ll fall to your death!; If you get caught sneaking into Kali’s room, don’t expect to come home in one piece, little brother. At least those outcomes were more glamorous than being trapped in a cellar, vomiting blood and oozing.

When the emptiness of the silence was too much to bear and the fear of falling asleep and not waking up became too great, Gabriel took to talking aloud, trying to find some comfort in the sound of his own voice. “At least if one of us had to get this, it was me. The little ones haven’t even lived yet. Dad needs Michael, Michael needs Luc, and Raphael is the one keeping the food on the table. …too bad I’m the best looking of the bunch. The world will definitely miss out on that.” He tried to smile, but his jokes weren’t as funny when no one was there to laugh at them.

Except someone did.

“Even imminent death couldn’t take away your horrible sense of humor and inflated ego, Gabe.” The silence spoke back with Luc’s voice and Gabriel almost thought he was hallucinating. It wouldn’t have been the first time, although recently he’d been too tired and in too much pain to comprehend much of his surroundings.

“Luc?” Sitting up was more painful than it was worth, but Gabriel was nothing if not stubborn. “Dad’ll throw you in my coffin with me if he catches you down here.”

“Don’t be so dark, little brother.” When Luc finally came into view, Gabriel gave up on trying to sit and slid back down beneath the blankets. “You look good for a corpse.”

For all that his brother was trying to smile, to make light of the inevitability of his death, Gabriel knew that Luc was barely holding himself together. “I’ll look good with worms in my face, too. Nothing short of an act of God can disfigure this kind of beauty.” Gabriel smiled brightly, then; if this was the last time his brother saw him alive, at least he could give him something worth remembering.

“What brings you to the crypt?” Pausing for a moment, Gabriel’s humor faltered into something serious. “You really shouldn’t be here. Dad should have just torched the place, considering how contagious this is.”

With a shrug, Luc crossed the small room, carefully sitting on the edge of the bed, his smile small but unwavering. “Doctor says after a few days you’re only contagious through your blood. So as long as you don’t spew any on me, I’ll be fine.” Gabriel was sure he had heard of corpses being contagious, but that must have been in the beginning, before anyone knew what this was; Gabriel could spot a lie a mile away, and Luc wasn’t lying. He relaxed more, grateful for the company.

“How’s everyone? Last I heard, Anna had a cough and dad was freaking out…” Gabriel trailed off, swallowing heavily and trying not to meet his brother’s eyes to mask the guilt – if she was sick, it was his fault. Anna was too young to die.

Gentle fingers lifted his chin and Gabriel met his brother’s gaze reluctantly. “Anna is fine. She would have shown symptoms by now if she were ill.” Something about Luc’s voice had always been calming, and now was no different. Luc moved his hand to the top of Gabriel’s head, gently running his fingers through the long strands, disentangling knots as he found them.

The brothers sat in silence for a long time, Gabriel lulled to a stupor by the calming motion of Luc’s fingers in his hair. It wasn’t until something twisted inside him that full consciousness returned, bringing vice-like pain along with it. His breathing had been labored before, but whatever had happened made it almost impossible now.

“I think I’m going to die tomorrow.”

His bluntness shocked Luc into stillness and the elder was silent for a long time before he sighed. “I know.” The words sounded heavy and tired, but Gabriel didn’t have the energy left to care. He knew the sickness would take him quickly, especially once he approached the end.

“You’ll be all right, Gabe.” Luc struggled for something comforting to say and Gabriel laughed.

“Don’t give me that crap about how mom is waiting for me. I put up with it for Dad, but if you ask me, she’s in the hole we put her in ten years ago.” The cynicism felt strange on his tongue after having been an optimist his entire life, but his fear was too strong to allow anything else.

“Maybe. But I’ll be right here, Gabriel. I’m not gonna let you go through this alone.” It was a pact they made when their mother died – no one would suffer alone. They would take care of their siblings and each other even though their mother couldn’t.

Carefully, Luc shifted his brother, positioning him at the edge of the cot before crawling in on the other side. “Don’t, Luc, I’m disgusting.” The floor looked like it was miles away, and Gabriel teetered on the edge, too weak to hold himself up until Luc’s arm wrapped around his waist securely.

“I’ve got you.”

Gabriel couldn’t fight if he wanted to. Instead, he enjoyed the last bit of warmth and comfort the world offered him and closed his eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere, Gabe. I’m right behind you.”

Edited 2012-11-29 04:02 (UTC)

Ahh! First of all, thank you, thank you, thank you soooo much for filling this! It was absolutely perfect and now I'm just rolling in feels. Beautifully written; I really enjoyed how you depicted their characters. u 3u *high fives*

Excuse you while I sob over here

You pick up more than dust on the road. Adam Milligan is taking his chances while he's young and dossing from state to state in order to experience as much as he can before age and responsibility catch up with him. Of course there are many colourful characters you encounter whilst in the surreal limbo of travel, but one man makes more of an impression than most.

Gabriel and Balthazar want to introduce some of their more frigid brothers to the adrenaline-filled world of crap games and police evasion.

Jo is a serving wench at a popular sailors tavern, and her childhood sweetheart's ship has just docked.

(For context just think Pirates of the Caribbean... but only the first three, dear God)

In war torn France the evening routine at a British camp is shattered when Anna and Jo arrive begging for sanctuary.
(You don't have to stick to the two male characters, I changed my mind so many times who it should be. Brownie points if you surprise me <3)

Edited 2012-11-29 15:03 (UTC)

I tried. I don't know how Renaissance this is, though.

NC-17, so it goes straight to my AO3.

Red Strokes

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 7 of 9

Bonus Round 1

Prompt: Sam/Sarah Blake, sort of Sam/Jess WW2 Resistance Fighters (Team Gabriel/Lucifer/Michael)

Re: FILL: Carrying Your Love (Team Ash/Jo)

Prompt: Lucifer/Sam 1970s Drug Counter Revolution (Team Gabriel/Lucifer/Michael)

FILL: Sold Out! (Team Ash/Jo)

Prompt: Raphael and Gabriel 80s Buddy Cops (Team Gabriel/Lucifer/Michael)

Prompt: Gwen Campell as Women's Suffragist (Team Gabriel/Lucifer/Michael)

Sam/Castiel: Renaissance era (Team Michael/Adam)

Adam/Michael: Cold War (Team Michael/Adam)

Castiel/Sam: End of World War 2 (Team Michael/Adam)

Dean/John: Late 1890's (Team Michael/Adam)

Adam/Michael: 1950' (Team Michael/Adam)

Fill: Ash/Jo, Carved in Stone (Team Lucifer/Sam)

Re: Castiel/Sam: Homecoming (Team Lucifer/Sam)

PROMPT: Any angel/any angel Black Plague (Team Balthazar/Castiel)

PROMPT: Ruby/Dean WWI (Team Balthazar/Castiel)

PROMPT: Anna/Gabriel Medieval (Team Balthazar/Castiel)

PROMPT: Any/Any 1917 Revolutionary Russia (Team Balthazar/Castiel)

FILL: I Will Follow You Into The Dark (Team Balthazar/Castiel)

Re: FILL: I Will Follow You Into The Dark (Team Balthazar/Castiel)

Re: FILL: I Will Follow You Into The Dark (Team Balthazar/Castiel)

PROMPT: Adam/Michael - Post-War (Beat) America (Team Balthazar/Castiel)

PROMPT: Angel family - 1930s Guys and Dolls (Team Balthazar/Castiel)

PROMPT: Jo/Anyone - 17th Century (Team Balthazar/Castiel)

PROMPT: Anna & Jo, Gabriel & Sam - WW2 (Team Balthazar/Castiel)

Fill: Sam/Castiel: Red Strokes (Team Lucifer/Sam)