au meme

[spacebat]

tag in with a list of characters you'd like to write au's about! feel free to prompt others (i act like this comm is more than me, green and arashi out of habit) or just start writing any au that strikes your fancy.

Comments

[spacebat]

moirine, umeka, hyun, suyin, adam, kim, issac, gully... idk, any of my other characters are fair game, too.

[constantasthenorthernstar]

OKAY I AM GONNA HIT YOU WITH SOME WEIRD ASS aus some specific some none

SPECIFIC

Rhea and Hyun

HIGH SCHOOL AU
College staff AU
Orphan Black AU
Strangers meeting on a train AU
Hospital AU

Mari and Moirine

COLLEGE AU I KNOW YOU WANT TO WE HAVE TOO MUCH INVESTED IN THIS HORRIBLE IDEA
Bartender AU
Concert AU
Snowed in AU

Umeka and Richie

Still married AU

Adam and Rhea

Motorcycle gang au

Umeka and Matty

Married AU

Suyin

Batwoman AU

Kim

DYSTOPIA WHERE KIM IS SUPREME RULER OF ALL AU

Izzy

Finds a puppy AU
Train stopped in the middle of nowhere au

Gully

High school AU where he is the foreign exchange student

UNSPECIFIC

Matched on Tindr
Donut shop
Strangers on a Train (as in Hitchcock)
Pacific Rim AU
Stereotypical dystopic scifi AU
Persona AU
Flatmates AU

I SAVED THE BEST FOR LAST

[failure]

this is it. this is my au prompt. this facial hair:

[constantasthenorthernstar]

I LOVE YOU LISSA

mari rhea elsa matty dee ricardo del la sexface leonard any and all others

[spacebat]

i love you too bb

I desperately want a Mari and Moirine WTNV au.

Rhea in Bioshock! Or Shin Megami Tensei. Basically, video game franchise of your choice.

Leonard getting arrested in Tyrol Nine Nine.

Elsa in Penny Dreadful. iiiii think you watch this, but if you don't, just do Elsa in a Victorian Gothic setting.

Matty and Umeka kids go to the same school au.

Bioshock AU - i might come back to this w/ a different concept at the w/end let's see

[constantasthenorthernstar]

They had come so far. Right now, she was struggling between an anger - they had come so far and all for nothing! - and an acceptance of the facts as they currently stood. Between the two of them they had, after all, nearly made their way out of this collapsing city. That had to be a plus. There was no prize for 'nearly' but surely they could take comfort in the strength and single-mindedness of purpose that had led them thus far.

Outside the room she'd locked them into, through the one way glass that made up the window, she watched as another citizen, just as late to leave, made a break for the docks. The spider that had stopped them fell on him from the roof, the hooks in her hands ripping chunks of flesh from his chest. His screams were inaudible, but the pain on his face was palpable. Not least because collapsed into one of the two chairs in this little office, face resting on what had been someone's desk before this madness, she was losing blood from a similar wound. She'd snap her cap if she wasn't concentrating so fully on staying conscious and not losing it.

"Fuck spider slicers," said the person in the room with her, from where they were on the floor. She turned her head to smile at Hyunsoo. He was a solid pal. A surprise attack from above was the only way it could've got them. They had been so close to being all clear. And then the spider splicer, somersaulting down from the ceiling. What a couple of birdbrains, forgetting to look up! They'd been so close.

"What's the plan?" Hyun asked. She put her hand over her chest, rubbing the wound. She felt very cold. The exit was near. It would be easy, after that. Get in one of the submarines, chart a course and then pass out. Float to the surface. It would all be so easy.

"Wait for a Little Sister to harvest that dead guy's ADAM out," Rhea pointed at the body outside, leaving streaks of red over their one-way window. "When the splicer goes for her, her Big Daddy'll come save her. While the splicer's distracted, we run for the docks, daddy-o."

"Solid," he said, sleepily. Outside, the splicer's hooks tapped against the window and the city of rapture fell.

20s drunken literary dumbasses au

[failure]

Mari sat at her desk and stared hard at her typewriter, the paper in it stained only by a single, solitary line she couldn't think of a companion for. The memory of whiskey burned in her throat and she sucked down some of the cheap coffee she'd brewed and looked out the window at the Parisian skyline. The light was fading, but she couldn't tell if it was sunrise or sunset, had ducked everything up so spectacularly that the laws of time and space seemed almost not to matter anymore to her body. She'd passed out only a little while ago, after finishing a bottle of whiskey and crawling into a bed too large for her alone. Now she was awake again, nursing a hangover the relative size of Mussolini's ego and wishing she was somewhere else.

She missed Moirine.

This would've been so much easier if the dumb broad was satisfied with being a muse. The cigarette between her fingers burned down and she breathed it in and breathed out a wreath of smoke that settled in the air around her. The windows were grimy, from spending too much time with her hands and nose pressed against them, searching for a certain face in the crowd of bodies that was unceasingly moving along the street below. "I'm better off without that idiot," she said, her voice breaking into the stale air of her empty apartment. Three days since she'd last cracked a window; five since she'd left the place. Her cupboards were bare and she'd finished the whiskey an hour ago; the only thing she had left was coffee. And the cigarettes. She'd inherited Moirine's supply of girlish slims now that the other had left and didn't seem to be coming back. She drank some more coffee. Three days til her deadline, and all she had were six words on a sheet of paper:

'I miss you like I'm dying.'

Let the cards show what they liked, but that didn't mean she had to look at them. She pressed her hands to the table and stared at the paper in a haze, acid black coffee choking its way up the back of her throat. She pulled the paper out of the typewriter in a blind kind of fury, to stare at it closer. In vino veritas, in liquor the same. The hot rage left her, the cold remaining. She balled the paper up and threw it across the room, to land with the other unspecial, unloved words she'd produced. As it made an arc across the room, too late to save it she recalled that this was no unconscious confession; these were the words her protagonist Abel was in the middle of speaking to his mistress, a sheltered initiate at the convent he was staying at whilst he settled his father's estate.

"God fucking dammit, Moirine!" It wasn't Moirine's fault. But Moirine wasn't here, could offer no defence of herself. It didn't make Mari feel any better to rave at ghosts and she slumped heavily into her chair and stared up at the yellowing ceiling. "God fucking dammit, Moirine," she said again, in a whimper. The bill was pinned above her desk - had been placed there by Moirine herself with a furious 'I don't suppose I'll ever see you there'. Variety show. Cabaret. Music, dancing, short plays. Blearily, Mari stared at it, at Moirine's name in the credits. Drunken, it seemed reasonable to put on her hat and coat and go down there, to win her back. Pride stopped her. Pride and fear - fear that by now, in the week they'd been apart, Moirine would have found someone far better. That would be easy. It would be easy for Moirine to do better than her - cast any stone in Paris and you'd hit a raft of suitable men. It would be far more difficult for Mari to find anyone who might even come close to being anything that this ridiculous woman was to her.

She had a deadline, besides. 20, 000 words to make in three days. People who chased down cold lovers and followed their hearts didn't make deadlines. 20, 000 words and she had made only six since Moirine had left. 20, 000 words. She set more coffee to brew and sat back down at her typewriter. It was time to write.