(no subject)
(Well, I say first annual.)
-For those new to ficathons, all you gotta do is either post a prompt (more on that in a second) or reply to someone else’s with a fic/drabble/what have you. For example- someone might come along and post ‘Peter and Harry in a Victorian steampunk AU’ and your mission, if you chose to accept it, would be to write Peter and Harry in a Victorian steampunk AU.
-Obviously, Peter/Harry has to be the main pairing. But you can have others in there too!
-Any verse is good. Comics, either movieverse, any of the many TV shows…or any combination thereof. Crossovers are welcome too, by the way.
-Be sure to add ratings (PG, R, etc) and warn for any potentially upsetting stuff.
-No bashing of the ladies (MJ, Gwen, Liz, Lily, etc). Most people very much dig them, y’see.
-Treat your fellow fans well.
Have at it, y’all.
December 6, 2012 @ 11:09 pm
I kinda want to see that Victorian steampunk AU now.
December 7, 2012 @ 8:04 pm
It was night, the first time Peter met the man in robes. He had been making his usual rounds from rooftop to rooftop, keeping carefully in the shadows to avoid the Night Watch, and scanning for the usual ruffians. Peter tended to break up a few crimes a night, ranging from out-of-control bar fights to attempted murders, and he’d developed a keen eye for the telltale signs of trouble. Usually criminals broke and ran when they saw him arrive, but a few stood their ground—Peter’d had to explain away quite a few bruises to Aunt May at home. Scratches he could talk his way out of, but chokeholds were more difficult. For the most part he hung back, roped the offenders up with his web fluid from a distance. Peter landed deftly on the wall of an alleyway, adjusting his goggles. The strap was wearing thin and he had to be careful that they didn’t fall off his face entirely. Having only a scarf over the lower half of his face was bad enough; losing the goggles would mean compromising his secret life more than he was comfortable with. There was a “WANTED” poster with his face on it just a few feet away, signed by J. Jonah himself. Peter examined it with some annoyance—Jonah was most of the reason the Night Watch was so hostile, having spread slanderous lies across the most prominent of the city’s papers. ‘Spider-Menace’, Jonah called him. No thanks given for the lives he’d saved, of course. Peter tore the paper off the wall and jumped down, crumpling it up into a tight wad. The only light in the alley came from a lantern around the corner, making the shadows deep, impenetrable, and almost mobile as the flame guttered. Peter watched it dance for a minute before he realized there wasn’t any wind. He spun, cursing his own negligence, and saw the robed man stumble off his glider. It wasn’t particularly graceful, but Peter had seen more than enough opponents to know that people could fake clumsiness. He did it himself, when he had to be puny, weak Peter Parker. The robed man paused, keeping his distance as he readjusted the hood of his cape. It was thick and long, hiding most of his body from view, and Peter squinted trying to make out his face. “Spider-man,” the man said. “I’m not here to attack you.” “Funny, that, considering that I’ve only ever seen that glider once before. Not exactly with a friendly face, unless you consider homicide a great birthday present.” The man drew back, fidgeting with the folds of his clothes. He seemed a particularly twitchy kind of man. “I’m not the Green Goblin, I just—I borrowed it. Stole it. I had to find you, I have to warn you.” “About what?” Peter lowered his fists slowly, keeping his fingers on the web shooters. Better safe than sorry, after all. “Norman Osborne,” the robed man said slowly. “He’s planning something. I saw his diagrams—” Peter webbed him to the wall before the man could blink. He grunted in pain but Peter ignored it, stepping closer. “It might be hypocritical of me,” he commented lightly, “but I don’t tend to trust people who wear masks. Shows they have something to hide. Now, me, I wear it to protect people. What are you hiding? And how, prey tell, do you profess to having access to Norman Osborne’s diagrams?” The man had dug his hands into his hood to keep it in place, but he slowly dragged it back, exposing his face to the candlelight. Peter stiffened as Harry Osborne revealed himself. “Well,” he said dryly, “that would explain the glider.”
December 7, 2012 @ 8:09 pm
“Peter,” Harry had said once, “I don’t think that my father would approve of this.” Peter had snorted and pinched his cheek. “Your father doesn’t approve of anything. Besides, you said you wanted to get away from the hobnobbing.” “Yes, but here?” Harry shifted uncomfortably where he stood on the train platform. “Isn’t this dangerous?” Peter smirked and spun around the rail, leaning precariously over the edge. Below, the river sped by in a blur of dirt and water. “Half the best things in life are dangerous, Harry, and the rest are expensive. You’ve got the latter covered, so let me introduce you to the former.” Harry watched him closely and Peter could almost feel the force of his gaze. Harry tentatively reached out and leaned over the edge himself, his face opening up into awe as he was met with the river rushing by hundreds of feet below them. “Peter,” he breathed, “this is amazing.” Peter grinned. — In the present, Harry was pale and nervous. His eyes kept darting to the deep black in the corners of the alley, like he expected the police to burst out and arrest the both of them. His fingers were still buried in the hem of his hood and would twitch upwards periodically, but he restrained the urge to pull it back up. Peter commended his bravery in the back part of his mind that wasn’t freaking out because his best friend had stolen his psychopath father’s most prized technology. Honestly, of all Norman’s toys, Harry had to go for the glider—the bare bones, death trap flying machine that was possibly the most noticeable thing ever invented. To be fair, Harry hardly had experience superheroing. “So Norman Osborne’s son is selling him out,” Peter said, keeping his voice steady. It was hard not to just tear off the mask and hug Harry with the way he was trembling, but the mask was to protect the both of them. They could handle it. Still, Harry’s flinch at the blunt statement made Peter feel bad; maybe he could tone down the banter. “I just don’t want him to hurt anyone,” Harry mumbled. “I just—he’s not well. It’s not his fault, if I could just talk to him…” Peter hummed noncommittally and stepped forward to tear down the strings of web keeping Harry against the wall. “Sure, and Octavius was a mild-mannered scientist. Look, you know that if I end up fighting your dad I can’t hold back, right? He’s tried to kill me before. I’m not inclined to let him succeed.” Harry kept silent until the webbing was gone. Peter watched his face carefully, keeping track of the play of emotion; Harry was never very good at hiding his feelings. Peter especially could read him like an open book, after the years they’d spent adventuring about town together. “I know.” Harry straightened and flipped his hood back up. “Five days, on the railroad above the river. He’s going to set explosives.” Peter kept his hands on Harry’s shoulders and nodded. “Thank you. I’ll try my best not to hurt him.” Harry picked up the glider again, silent.
December 7, 2012 @ 8:10 pm
Peter didn’t die, as it turned out. Neither did Norman, though the blow Harry dealt him might leave a nasty scar. When Peter swung up and landed Harry was still breathing hard, staring down at the thick length of metal in his hands. The railway stood, hardy as ever, and Peter dropped the last of the deactivated explosives into the pile. The police bustled around them, cars screeching along the road and aeroplanes buzzing their way back to the headquarters. “Do you remember the first time we rode on this track?” Harry asked Peter quietly. “I was terrified, but you were climbing all over the train like a monkey.” “Um,” Peter said, dumbfounded. “I think you have me mistaken—” “Shut up, Peter,” Harry said, annoyance flashing across his features. “I’m not an idiot.” Peter shifted from foot to foot and looked around desperately for something to focus on that wasn’t Harry’s face. The strap of his goggles was a thread now, so he had to hold them up to hide his eyes. The brush of Harry’s fingers against his own was a surprise and he jerked back, inadvertently dropping them. Harry held his hand, staring straight into his eyes. “Please don’t lie to me, Peter. I’ve had enough of lies.” Peter blinked slowly and, suddenly, had to keep himself from sobbing. He blinked more rapidly, sure Harry could see him watering up, and missed the moment when Harry stepped closer. When he focused in again they were only a few inches apart. “I’m sorry, Peter,” Harry said softly. “I should have seen it sooner. Stopped him sooner. I wish—“ Peter pressed two fingers to Harry’s lips. “It’s done. It’s okay. We’re going to be okay.” Harry looked like he was going to go on, but Peter replaced the fingers with his lips, which were covered by the cloth protecting his identity. The sensation was strange and muffled, but Peter felt Harry relax and kiss back. The police chased them off, eventually, When Peter swung back home above the river Harry clung to him and stared down, his face open with awe. (Woo! Sorry, I’m not used to Livejournal. I hope this works. :) )
December 7, 2012 @ 8:23 pm
This, and you, are brilliant. Thanks! :D (Though should you ever repost it, Osborn is spelt without the E. :) )
December 7, 2012 @ 8:53 pm
Happy to contribute! I’ve seen it both ways within the fandom, but I’ll remember that. :)
December 7, 2012 @ 1:26 am
Prompt- love letters
December 7, 2012 @ 1:28 am
Prompt- Peter dies instead of Harry (any verse, you’ve got a lot to choose from!)
December 7, 2012 @ 1:28 am
Prompt -alcohol reacts badly to either of their powers
December 7, 2012 @ 9:00 am
Prompt: Everyone’s at prom! Flash smuggled in drinks, the girls look beautiful, and Peter and Harry won’t stop flirting.
December 7, 2012 @ 1:20 pm
Ironically, I’m actually working on a prom!fic as we speak! Big, slightly dark and creepy…
December 7, 2012 @ 4:19 pm
Fluff! Pete and Harry go to a fair. Any ‘verse.
December 9, 2012 @ 4:38 pm
They had done everything a young couple should do at the fair- the candyfloss, the bumper cars, the little kiss before the ghost train. They were two men on the run, and bearing various scars, but they were enjoying themselves. They deserved it. Peter and Harry Osborn (although both had new legal names now) stood looking up at the ferris wheel. It towered above the rest of the fair, little flashing lights cascading through its center. Blue, and red, and green. “I’m not sure I’m ready for more heights,” Harry said, his mind far away, spiralling down on his father’s glider. “I’ll protect you,” said Peter. He took his hand and kissed it. “But we can leave. Go do something else.” Harry looked up past the wheel and into the night sky. “Stupid, isn’t it? My dad would yell for hours, if I ever said I was afraid of anything dumb…well, anything really.” “He’s gone now, and he’s never coming back.” “Not right for an Osborn…” “You’re not an Osborn. You’re Harry. And you’re mine.” Harry smiled but said nothing: Peter knew what that meant. “Let’s give it a go. You hold onto me.” “Always.” (Hope this is good enough, fluff isn’t my strong suit! But it was fun.)
January 6, 2014 @ 5:44 pm
Amazing Spider-Man au, basically harry was born blind and peter and him still are friends and lovers
January 6, 2014 @ 5:56 pm
Spiderman au. Harry’s was born blind, but peter and him still become friends and lovers