Tag: AU

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

Imagine an AU where Endymion’s rebirth makes him want to prove he’s loyal to the earth this time around. He gathers the Shittenou’s reincarnations to hunt down the senshi and end the Moon Kingdom once and for all.

Meanwhile Beryl is reborn to get redemption for her past sins. She fights to save those she killed in her past life, she knows now that Earth fares better in alliance with the Moon Kingdom and the silver crystal. Beryl meets Usagi and wonders how she ever hated this girl, different as she might be now. She lives in fear of the day Usagi and the other remember their past lives, she knows Minako already distrusts her. But of course Usagi has nothing but forgiveness when she finds out. 

Then as the final battle draws near, Endymion offers Beryl everything she ever wanted in the past. Power on par with the senshi’s. Dominion over Earth. His love. It’s all on the table, all she has to do is take it.

She refuses.

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

commas-and-ampersands:

pgsm au | operation moonfall

known only by their codenames: mars and venus.  masters of manipulation and disguise.  killers by blade or bullet or bare hands.  former partners who severed ties after a failed mission ended their relationship and the life of their handler and mentor, artemis.

five years later, venus has infiltrated a yakuza gang known as the black moon in hopes of retrieving a client’s daughter, usagi, from the gang’s leader.  meanwhile, mars is pursuing terrorist threats made against the japanese government by the same gang.  when their paths and missions unexpectedly cross, they find they must put their differences aside in order to save the life of a young girl and countless others.

they dub their new mission operation moonfall.

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

ink-splotch:

What if, when Petunia Dursley found a little boy on her front doorstep, she took him in? Not into the cupboard under the stairs, not into a twisted childhood of tarnished worth and neglect—what if she took him in?

Petunia was jealous, selfish and vicious. We will not pretend she wasn’t. She looked at that boy on her doorstep and thought about her Dudders, barely a month older than this boy. She looked at his eyes and her stomach turned over and over. (Severus Snape saved Harry’s life for his eyes. Let’s have Petunia save it despite them).

Let’s tell a story where Petunia Dursley found a baby boy on her doorstep and hated his eyes—she hated them. She took him in and fed him and changed him and got him his shots, and she hated his eyes up until the day she looked at the boy and saw her nephew, not her sister’s shadow. When Harry was two and Vernon Dursley bought Dudley a toy car and Harry a fast food meal with a toy with parts he could choke on Petunia packed her things and got a divorce.

Harry grew up small and skinny, with knobbly knees and the unruly hair he got from his father. He got cornered behind the dumpsters and in the restrooms, got blood on the jumpers Petunia had found, half-price, at the hand-me-down store. He was still chosen last for sports. But Dudley got blood on his sweaters, too, the ones Petunia had found at the hand-me-down store, half price, because that was all a single mother working two secretary jobs could afford for her two boys, even with Vernon’s grudging child support.

They beat Harry for being small and they laughed at Dudley for being big, and slow, and dumb. Students jeered at him and teachers called Dudley out in class, smirked over his backwards letters.

Harry helped him with his homework, snapped out razored wit in classrooms when bullies decided to make Dudley the butt of anything; Harry cornered Dudley in their tiny cramped kitchen and called him smart, and clever, and ‘better ‘n all those jerks anyway’ on the days Dudley believed it least.

Dudley walked Harry to school and back, to his advanced classes and past the dumpsters, and grinned, big and slow and not dumb at all, at anyone who tried to mess with them.

But was that how Petunia got the news? Her husband complained about owls and staring cats all day long and in the morning Petunia found a little tyke on her doorsep. This was how the wizarding world chose to give the awful news to Lily Potter’s big sister: a letter, tucked in beside a baby boy with her sister’s eyes.

There were no Potters left. Petunia was the one who had to arrange the funeral. She had them both buried in Godric’s Hollow. Lily had chosen her world and Petunia wouldn’t steal her from it, not even in death. The wizarding world had gotten her sister killed; they could stand in that cold little wizard town and mourn by the old stone.

(Petunia would curl up with a big mug of hot tea and a little bit of vodka, when her boys were safely asleep, and toast her sister’s vanished ghost. Her nephew called her ‘Tune’ not ‘Tuney,’ and it only broke her heart some days.

Before Harry was even three, she would look at his green eyes tracking a flight of geese or blinking mischieviously back at her and she would not think ‘you have your mother’s eyes.’

A wise old man had left a little boy on her doorstep with her sister’s eyes. Petunia raised a young man who had eyes of his very own).

Petunia snapped and burnt the eggs at breakfast. She worked too hard and knew all the neighbors’ worst secrets. Her bedtime stories didn’t quite teach the morals growing boys ought to learn: be suspicious, be wary; someone is probably out to get you. You owe no one your kindness. Knowledge is power and let no one know you have it. If you get can get away with it, then the rule is probably meant for breaking.

Harry grew up loved. Petunia still ran when the letters came. This was her nephew, and this world, this letter, these eyes, had killed her sister. When Hagrid came and knocked down the door of some poor roadside motel, Petunia stood in front of both her boys, shaking. When Hagrid offered Harry a squashed birthday cake with big, kind, clumsy hands, he reminded Harry more than anything of his cousin.

His aunt was still shaking but Harry, eleven years and eight minutes old, decided that any world that had people like his big cousin in it couldn’t be all bad. “I want to go,” Harry told his aunt and he promised to come home.

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~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

So apparently there is a tag limit that I did not know about, so I’m just going to make a text-post about my alternate-universe Harry/Luna headcanon (is it still a headcanon if it’s au?). Because why not.

Sometime in the post book five summer Harry would write Luna a letter because she understands things that at this point Ron and Hermione don’t. Not that it would be about any of those things because of course Harry would feel weird about putting anything about Sirius and stuff into writing. Luna would respond largely with some story about her recent encounter some creature Harry is sure doesn’t exist, but then again everyone had thought the threstrals weren’t real, so he decides to ask her more about it. Before they know it they’re sending letters to each other every few days, and even though mostly they’re about the sort of things that the Quibbler publishes articles about they also somehow get on to a surprising range of subjects. Luna’s perspective on the happenings in the wizarding world is quite different from Ron’s. It both does and doesn’t  surprise Harry how much she notices just from a trip to the store. He likes that she doesn’t pretend it isn’t scary without making a big deal out of it.

And then it’s back to school and through the fall they keep ending up hanging out alone together, because Ron and Hermione and still prefects and Ginny’s got dates, and Neville for some reason keeps leaving after mumbling something about feeling awkward without anyone else there, until at some point they just start hanging out alone on purpose. Harry discovers that when she talks about things like charms and potions she’s actually quite grounded, and very good at school work although unlike Hermione she’s rubbish at checking his work. He asks her to the Christmas party pretty much the same as he does in the book, but Harry ducks back into the party after eavesdropping on Draco. They stay long enough to have a little bit of actual fun and then Harry walks her back to her dormitory. Before she goes to answer the riddle there’s a pause, and Harry gets to thinking that despite the absurdity of her robes, or maybe because of it, she really looks quite nice, beautiful even, and he had a good time, but doesn’t he always when she’s with him, and before he can quite think of any reason not to, he kisses her. It’s quick but nice by Harry’s estimate,but the little humming sound she makes as he pulls away makes him realize he has almost nothing to judge by. She says goodnight and he mumbles something that is supposed to also be goodnight but doesn’t quite make it.

They don’t bring it up the next time they see each other, or the time after that. Things seem normal enough that Harry figures they’re pretending it didn’t happen until one day they’re studying together and Luna asks if he would like to kiss her again or if he’d been under the influence of nargles because of all the mistletoe that had been hung around that night. Harry is taken so off guard that it’s a full minute before he manages to say “It wasn’t nargles.” Luna doesn’t say anything back or, to Harry’s surprise, kiss him, but she does set her book down on the table so she can hold his hand until he needs it to write with.