gaila: orions have more fun

A Picture is Worth 1000 Words: A Multifandom Comment Fic Meme

Have you seen a hot photo at Sex is Not the Enemy and you wish there were a fic to go with it? Is there a still from your favorite series that needs a story to accompany it? Do you have a vast stockpile of pictures of outer space that would make amazing back drops for a sci-fi story? Well, this is your place! You're invited to post an interesting picture prompt in the comments and to write stories for pictures that others have left.

The rules are simple:

1. For leaving prompts: Please post only one picture per comment. The picture is the only prompt you are leaving; please do not include fandoms, characters, plot ideas, etc. If your picture is potentially triggering or not safe for work, please post a link to it and include an appropriate warning/rating in the subject line.

2. For writing fills: Please include a title, fandom, and any relevant warnings/ratings in the subject line; also include characters or pairings if they fit. Your fill may be any length, and if it is too long for one comment, feel free to use multiple comment boxes or link to a posting on your journal.

3. You may leave up to five prompts, even if you do not intend to write any fills. You may leave one additional prompt for each fill you write.

4. Multiple fills for one prompt are welcome and encouraged!

5. Any fandom, character, pairing, or genre is welcome.

Have fun and pimp this around! I will continue updating the list of fills as new stories are posted.

The Abhorsen Chronicles
Pulled Under by ceitfianna - Sameth, PG

Blade Runner
But Then, Who Does by yeomanrand - Deckard, (past Deckard/Rachael), PG

Deconstructed by crazedcrusader - Faith, PG

Heaven is a Stranger Place (Than What You've Left Behind) by sardonicynic - Mal/Inara, PG

A Hole in the World by yeomanrand - Olivia, PG (spoilers for end of season 3)

The Giver
Unknown But Remembered by jactrades - Lily, G

Harry Potter
To Be a Ribbon in Your Hair by ceitfianna - James/Lily, G

She'll Play Her Heart to a Drumbeat by dynastessa - Bellatrix Lestrange, PG

Different by igrockspock - Luna/Neville, PG

The Forest by lyras - various characters, G

So Close That Your Eyes Close As I Fall Asleep by eppic - Harry/Ron/Hermione, PG-13

De L'Eau by yeomanrand - Ariadne, PG

JC's Avatar
North and South by ashen_key - Trudy, G

Safety Net in a Chaotic World by ashen_key - Trudy, OC (deals with sexual assault)

Untitled by eppic - Merlin, Morgana, PG

Lessons My Father Taught Me by eppic - Arthur, Uthur

In Ourselves and Our Stars by sour_idealist - Gwen/Morgana, PG

Lamppost by thistlerose - Susan, G

Mnemosyne by yeomanrand - Lucy, G

Percy Jackson
He Extends an Olive Branch by crazedcrusader - Percy/Annabeth, PG

Pirates of the Carribbean
Destiny Never Likes the Wait by lyssie - Elizabeth/Calypso, light R

Connor/Abby Friendship by aradne

Resident Evil
Wonderland is Off the Grid by yeomanrand - Alice, PG

Prac-Work by ashen_key - Angie, Jill, PG

Little Details by exiled_mind - Sherlock, Watson, Lestrade, PG-13

Not What Boys Do by igrockspock - Watson, PG

Stargate SG-1
Sunlit Honey by campylobacter - Sam/Vala PG

Star Trek XI
When JJ Came to Town by hellokatzchen - Pike, fictionalized JJ Abrams, G

Best Served Cold by igrockspock - McCoy/Chapel, PG

Forward This Generation Triumphantly by igrockspock - Gaila, OFCs, PG13

At the Top of the Stairs, Waiting by igrockspock - McCoy/Uhura, PG

Prior Preparation by igrockspock - Pike/Number One, G

Every Moment a Revolution by igrockspock - Amanda, Spock, Spock/Uhura, PG

A Velociraptor-Free Workplace by igrockspock - Kirk, Rand, PG

Repeat Offender by igrockspock - Jim Kirk, Winona Kirk, PG

Spermatophytes by jactrades - Kirk/Sulu, PG

No One Had These Problems in the Old Days by livelovehump - Kirk, Kirk/Prime, PG

Oh, Let Me Have Just a Bit of Peril? by thistlerose - Kirk, Sulu, and Aphrodite, light R

Adventurous by yeomanrand Winona Kirk, PG

Like A Prayer For Which No Words Exist by eppic - Dean/Castiel

In a Language Only Hair Can Speak by charcoalfeather - Rapunzel/Eugene F., PG

Ordinary by igrockspock - Gwen/Rhys, baby Anwen, PG

Warehouse 13
Sing Your Song About Pie by minkhollow - Pete and Leena, PG (spoilers for season 3 premiere)

Green and Growing by minkhollow - Claudia, Steve, PG

X-Men: First Class
Like a Queen by ashen_key - Angel, PG-13

To post images, you will need two things: the "img src=" tag, and the location of the picture. To get the location of the picture, right click on it and choose "copy image location." Then go to the comment box, right click again, and click paste. The image's URL ought to appear in the comment box. Then type img src= in front of it, and enclose the whole thing in < >. Your final product will look like the example below, but with < > instead of [ ].

[img src=]

If your picture is on your hard drive, you will need to upload it to the internet somewhere like photobucket or your LJ, then follow the instructions listed above.
Question Thread
Please comment here if you have any questions or concerns for the mod.
Re: Question Thread
Could NSFW prompts be linked to instead of posted directly? That way we who are at work can participate. :)
Wonderland is off the Grid, Resident Evil (Movies) Alice, PG
(Set between Apocalypse and Extinction)

Alice sits down in the middle of the desert, where she can watch the mountain for the first sign of the satellite she has to avoid. Has to, if she wants to stay out of Umbrella's eye.

The sun has scorched the earth around her, cracks forming semi-regular almost-pentagons fading off into the distance, a giant-sized jigsaw puzzle viewed from table-level.

She shifts her rifle on her shoulder, gaze catching on the fading sunlight just on the western horizon. No clouds here, no leftover filth in the air to redden the sky, just pale peach and almost blue, striations in the sky all the way up to almost night-dark at the point where she'd have to tip her head back on her neck to see.

She's grown accustomed to solitude, to the necessity of it, to protecting herself and protecting humanity from herself. She thinks of Spence, who brought about his own downfall; she thinks of Rain and JD and Kaplan and One, caught in the wrong place at the very wrong time; she tries not to think about what happened to Matt or wonder how Jill or Carlos are doing because thinking about the living will just bring her loneliness. And loneliness is a lure back to civilization -- or whatever's left of it.

She rises from the dirt, collecting a handful after dusting off her leggings, and sets out to the north, away from the satellite's path.

What made her stronger has also killed her.
Thrust of Grace 1/2, X-Men 2, OMC&OFC, PG or so
(A/N: Every time I see X2 I find my imagination pinged by the climax; this came out of that thought.)

It might just be the best day of Felipe's life. It's a warm morning, the breeze so sweet even the city air smells good, but maybe that's just Aditi, her fingers meshed with his, her long hair fluttering on the wind, her smile bright as they walk down this city street between glittering storefronts and smiling fellow pedestrians. Aditi points at a bookstore's sidewalk display of bright cards and art books, so they set off across the street; the whole world feels beautiful, and the most beautiful girl in it is holding Felipe's hand --

Someone groans, and Aditi gasps. Felipe turns towards the noise and sees a lady drop her shopping bags, clawing at her temples; he turns back to Aditi to suggest they head over to help the woman, and finds her kneeling on the macadam just as he feels her weight dragging on his hand. "Aditi!"

"Felipe," she gasps, pitching over onto her side, her fingers sliding from between his. He kneels beside her, trying to scoop her up -- they're in the middle of the crosswalk, the middle of the street -- but there's a screech of brakes and Felipe glances up to see a minivan turned sideways across the traffic, the driver writhing in her seat.

Aditi's writhing too, clutching her head, gasping in pain; all over the street people are convulsing on the ground with others standing over them or kneeling beside them in horrified dismay. A few feet from them a little boy rolls around screaming on the sidewalk as a fluffy dog whines and paws at his arm. "What's wrong? Aditi?"

Her tender mouth opens and closes, her wide eyes crimped shut; she doesn't actually speak, but Felipe hears her voice all the same, from everywhere and nowhere at once. Don't leave me. Don't leave me.

There isn't time to wonder about it; she gropes blindly for him and he catches her hand, threading their fingers again. "I won't," he promises, "I won't ever."

She smiles through a sob, squeezing his hand, catching his shirt in her flailing fist, and when he bends to kiss her he can feel it somehow, the pounding in her head and the light brush of his lips. He kisses her again and thinks of her smiling even though he can't see it, how good the touch of his mouth feels if it's the last thing she'll ever get to feel.

And then suddenly, as unexpectedly as it began, it stops. Aditi lies still and Felipe's heart clenches -- is she -- but then she takes a huge whooping breath and laughs, soft and wondering, and when she opens her dark eyes they glisten with tears. "Oh, I thought I was going to die," she breathes, and his heart hurts with relief, he pulls her up into his arms and kisses her fervently, crushing her to his chest, and she clings to him, kissing him back. All around them people whimper and laugh and weep, a fire roars in the distance and the breeze fills with smoke, but Aditi's all right, she's all right, and Felipe kisses her as if he might never have gotten to kiss her again.

Until a spike of pain drives through his head.
Fill: Best Served Cold - STXI, McCoy/Chapel
Christine Chapel stares warily at the boy sitting in the corner of sickbay. He is wearing a blue jumper with green stripes and swinging his feet back and forth in the air. This makes him look quite innocuous, but Chapel knows better. Children are never as sweet as they appear.

“Why me?” she asks McCoy, who recoils a little from the intensity of her glare.

“Because I have the captain's briefing in ten minutes, Lauritson broke her ankle, and Melendez is monitoring Paulsen's vitals.”

Christine huffs.

“Fine. But I know this is really because of the betting ring.”

If McCoy wanted to get revenge for her betting on whether Kirk, Spock, or McCoy would return from away missions with a torn uniform and a manly gash on their chest...well, exposing her to small children was a pretty good way to do it, she had to admit.

“For Chrissake Chapel, it's a boy, not a Denebian slime devil.”

“But I don't know what to do with it.”

“Not it, him. Children are people, Chapel, not animals. And why don't you take him to get some ice cream?”

“I hate you.”

McCoy smiled. It was a real, happy smile, like he was having fun and not just making fun of her. It was a very attractive smile, which made her hate him more.

“You say that at least once a day, Christine.”

She threw a stylus at his head and stepped out of his office as elegantly as she could. Cautiously, she approached the boy and pasted a smile onto her face.

“Let's go get some ice cream, okay?”
Fill: Forward This Generation Triumphantly - STXI, Gaila, OCs
“You didn't do it right,” Gaila tells her older sister Mila.

“Shh. It's not nice not to be grateful.” That's Lyara, her oldest sister.

“But purple isn't a Starfleet color. It's red. And there's barely any green, and Starfleet doesn't have green anyway. It should be gold.”

It's not fair. It's her present; they should have got it right.

Mila bends down on her knees and tucks one of Gaila's curls behind her ear. Nobody knows how Gaila got red hair like this, but it makes her special. She's worth more because of it, and she's going to go to Starfleet. Not because she has red hair, but because she's special in lots more ways than that. The masters don't know that yet though; they just know they can sell her for extra one day. But her sisters do know about Starfleet, and they were supposed to make a picture of it for her naming day, but they had gotten it wrong. It's a bad omen.

“I'm sorry, Gaila.” Mila really does look sad. “These colors were all we had. The goddess knows what we mean.”

“And look, the stars are gold,” Lyara says. “Just like the captains.”

“Like you'll be one day.”

Mila looks so happy now that it's scary. Gaila doesn't know as much as her sisters do, but she knows that leaving this planet and going to Starfleet will cost. She isn't scared that it will cost too much for her to go; she's scared that it will cost too much, but her sisters will pay it anyway. Slipping out of her sister's embrace, she scoots forward till she can put her chin on the windowsill right next to her present. A little forcefield buzzes against her nose, and Gaila smiles. Her sisters aren't supposed to know how to make forcefields, but they do. One day they'll teach her.

“Do you like it?” Mila asks. “I was worried that the glitter would blow away if the climate control unit ever came on again.”

Gaila nods and the forcefield flickers against her chin. The colors aren't exactly right, she likes the way they glitter in the starlight.

“Thank you,” she says. Even though she's little, she knows some place deep and dark that she is thanking her sisters for more than these little glittering stars. Things that she can't imagine, things that are awful, things they do willingly to keep her safe.


Eight years later, Gaila switches off the forcefield and sweeps the tiny pile of glitter into her waist pouch. The room is empty. She hasn't seen her sisters in days. With a single fluid motion, she pushes the broken climate control unit away from the heating duct and slips inside.

“Thank you,” she says to the silent air. She hopes her sisters can hear her.

Then, without looking back, she begins climbing toward freedom.

Edited at 2011-07-11 06:36 pm (UTC)
Fill: At the Top of the Stairs, Waiting - STXI, McCoy/Uhura (1/2)
Uhura presses the cloth a little harder against the the bloody spot on McCoy's head and frowns. According to the tricorder, his vitals are stable, and she knows that head wounds bleed a lot. Still, it's hard to believe that so much bleeding for so long can be a good thing.

“Hey.” She shakes his shoulder gently, then a bit harder. “Wake up.”

McCoy's eyelids flicker.

“Wha' happened? Where are we?”

“'We're on a shuttle. Someone shot us, remember?” The shuttle had flown off course, its systems badly damaged, but there had been no sign of their attacker since the initial shot. “Sulu's up front, trying to get the navigational array online.”

“We got air?” McCoy asks sleepily.

“Yeah. Enough for a few more hours anyway. Is this kind of memory loss normal?”

She'd had this same conversation with McCoy at least twice in the past hour. McCoy doesn't answer her, so she shakes him again. When there's no response, she climbs over him, planting her knees on either side of his torso so that she can lean directly over his face. She'd be embarrassed if she weren't so scared.

Hey. I need you to tell me if this kind of memory loss is normal.”

McCoy's eyes flicker open.

“Jus' a concussion,” he says.

“I don't like the way your words are slurred.”

McCoy smiles faintly.

“Dammit woman, I'm a doctor. I know what I'm talking about.” That sounds more like him. She smiles, and he asks, “Why're you on top of me?”

“You wouldn't wake up.”

She looks away even though she doubts he can see her flush in the deep red emergency lights. Maybe it hadn't been a logical response, but it had seemed like the right thing to do. She moves back to her position on the floor and rests McCoy's head against her thigh. There's no medical necessity, she knows, but human touch is the only treatment she can provide right now.

“What should I do for you?” she asks.

“Jus' keep me awake.”

“Is there something in the med kit?”

McCoy shakes his head, then winces.

“Jus' ask me questions.”

“Okay. Name, rank, date of birth?”

McCoy snorts.

“Dammit, woman, I'm injured, not mentally handicapped.”

Uhura almost laughs at how irritated he looks but thinks better of it.

“Answer the question.”

“Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer, U.S.S. Enterprise. May 13, 2227. That good enough for you? Now ask me something interesting.”

Little Details, PG-13, Sherlock (BBC), John/Sherlock
I could not help myself. I'm so sorry!

* * *

"Sherlock," John hissed. "You forgot to zip your trousers."

"Shit." Sherlock's eyebrows rose and his eyes flicked in Detective Inspector's direction before returning to meet John's. "Think Lestrade noticed?"

"Well, he is in the business of gathering evidence and making educated guesses about such things, Sherlock."

Sherlock huffed out a breath. "Well, if he were better at it then he wouldn't need me, so we're likely safe."

Lestrade simply rolled his eyes at the soft sound of the zip.

Edited at 2011-07-13 07:06 pm (UTC)
Adventurous, Star Trek XI, Winona Kirk, PG-ish?
Contrary to popular opinion, Winona Kirk nee Emerson is not a daredevil or an adrenaline junkie.

She's come to the county fair because Sam and Jimmy begged her -- though they'd waited until she'd been home a night and a day, and she wonders, reluctantly, warily, how Frank managed that change of behavior -- and because it's been almost a year since she was last on Earth, her own life one long orbit to and from and always back to Sol.


Frank stayed back at the farmhouse; Sam's always got one hand on Jimmy no matter how sticky they are with corn dogs or cotton candy or potatoes cut lengthwise in quarter-inch slabs, battered and deep-fried and, she has to admit even as she's saying Mom-things about their lack of nutrition, absolutely delicious. Thick slices of earth, sweet on their own, sweeter with the ranch dressing they're slathered in. She joins her sons in licking her fingers clean.

Jimmy's nose is red by the time dusk falls, the skin on Winona's neck and shoulders also tight with too much sun. They're on their way back to the parking lot when both boys are captured by a wheel rising in the night -- a blur of white spinning to rival the moon.

She knows what the question will be even before they've turned to her, and glances for the ticket booth. She buys them enough for the one ride, and herself a cherry-flavored slush. Jimmy's just tall enough to ride, and he looks back at her soberly before following his brother into the queue.

Winona leans on the flimsy fence near the exit and waits for her boys to have their adventure, cherry flavor tart on her tongue and calculations for centripetal force running through her mind.
Unknown but remembered, The Giver, Lily, G
Lily finds the photograph in the archive within the Annex of the House of the Old.

The colors are all wrong, she thinks as she lifts the tattered sheet from the dusty file, and smiles at the thought.

There’s no reason that she can see for the image to exist at all. The details of the plants are too hazy for it to be a learning aide - besides there's no botanical name given. The file itself has a label, tidily written in a firm hand: Place - Elsewhere, Time - Before.

The Community now has a new definition for Before. There's the slight hesitation, always: "It happened a few years before... Before." Before he left the Community. No one mentions the name, ever, although it hasn't been designated Not-To-Be-Spoken.

There aren't many decrees from the Elders anymore.

The edges of the photograph have been worn away from more than time, she realizes, looking closer. Someone once looked at - held - touched this image often. Someone once valued it enough keep it, keep it safe for a future that didn't - wouldn't - couldn't see the possibilities in the faded colors.

The unknown and unknowable stories are always the ones that set her mind flickering about, like the fireflies she now dreams of.

Lily's Assignment may be Historian, her life's task to record the Not-My-Memories. (A lie, not merely imprecise language. They were all their memories now.) But that's not who she is.

She gently places the photograph aside. On the next Unscheduled Holiday she'll try to write the story of this photograph, and the someone who loved it.

Edited at 2011-07-19 01:38 am (UTC)