Monday - Writing

[sagaluthien.livejournal.com]

Good morning, It's a new week and I'm that will host it is sagaluthien. I'm glad to do it again. I thought we would begin with Writing, it is what we all like to do, so why not let our characters do it to. It can be they write for fun, in secret or trying to get publish. It can be blog, lyrics, poems or what you set them to do. Maybe their friend or partner found out… Don't let the thinks block you keep it coming.

Please do not forget the Rules:
No more than three prompts to a fandom
No more than five fandoms at a time
Leave at least three spaces for spoilers

Also remember the formatting for the codemonkeys:
Fandom, Character, prompt
Fandom, Character/Character, prompt
Fandom/Fandom, Character(s), prompt

If nothing catches your fancy here, give a lonely prompt some love.



tag=writing

Comments

[sagaluthien.livejournal.com]

RPS, Nikki Sixx, Facebook

[sagaluthien.livejournal.com]

Spn, Dean/Sam, Dean have a blog

[sagaluthien.livejournal.com]

Twilight/True Blood, Jacob/Sam, hidden diary

[sagaluthien.livejournal.com]

RPS, Christian Kane/Jensen Ackels, love song

[with-rainfall.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Dean & or /Sam - Dean reads Sam's journal. Can be during or pre-series.

[mandatorily.livejournal.com]

SPN, Sam/Dean, Sam's been writing Wincest fic and Dean's his biggest fan, they just don't know it. And then they do.

[with-rainfall.livejournal.com]

(Not a fill.) OMG I would love to see that! :)

[kijikun.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, John/Gabriel, wee!chesters, Gabriel decides they'll write their own destiny.

fill 1/2

[shi-mo.livejournal.com]

A/N: no particular warnings, but there is Gabriel being Gabriel. Also sorry, but wee!chesters only mentioned, I tried, but… sorry ;(

They meet in a dream. And ten years ago John would have said that it’s line from cheeky trash novel that Mary denies that she likes to read from time to time. But Mary is long dead and life taught him since then: meeting in a dream is not a cheese line.
John is seating on the bank of river and his boys are just behind thick bushes, he can hear Sam’s laugh.
- Noisy brats, eh?
- Yes.
And because it’s a dream there is nothing strange about glowing anthropomorphic figure that decided to seat beside him.
- Candy?
- No.
They don’t talk about much else and in the end his guest convinces him to try couple of M&M’s. He still feels chocolate on his tongue, when he wakes up in a motel room and that’s when John knows that this wasn’t an ordinary dream. By next night he carved protective amulet and there is blessed herbs under his pillow and dream catcher above his bed.
Doesn’t do the trick at all. Glowing figure greets him with lazy wave of biggest candyfloos John had ever seen,
- Hello, John.
- Who the hell are you?
- Ah, smart boys. Well let’s pretend that your life is a script that big sharks from Hollywood picked up for they future blockbuster. There are going to be mind-blowing special effects, pretty actors and a bunch of sequels. But the thing is at the end – everyone die. You, your precious little boys and a billion or two statists.
- Are you threatening me?
- Who, me? Pleeee-ase, I’m just a guy who cares. Let’s say independent director. And I’m willing to pick up your script, but ending… really I’m a sap for happy endings. Everyone lives, you know? Hero kisses the girl, credits roll. So I really, really want to work with you, John, but the script has to go.
By the end of the speech his visitor practically lies on the hood of the Impala and John has pretty hard time convincing himself that it’s not just some pretty weird dream after too much alcohol and too little rest.
- You are serious.
- As a camel, and I got to say those guys don’t have a drop of humor. Boring.
- Yeah and all I got to do will be what exactly? Sell my soul maybe?
- And I need that shiny thing what for exactly? No, I mean it’s pretty. But I’ll pass. What I need, John, is your cooperation. Because see, there is this cool guy with phenomenal super powers, we are talking cosmic level here. You might have heard about him. Gabriel. Yes? No?
- Gabriel who?
- Oh, come on. The one with chicken wings!
- The Archangel Gabriel. You are telling me that angels, that God is…
- Yep. All real! And before you ask, no bigfoot out there. Yeah, I know, it’s a downer.
- Back to Gabriel. He can help me? He can find the bastard who killed Mary? He can…
- Yes, yes, yes. Check all the boxes on your “Quest of John Winchester” list. But see, archangel, they can’t walk Earth just like that. They true form – it’s like nuclear reactor going nuclear. Lashing it on your little planet – bad idea. But there is a way. See, they need a partnership with special humans that can withhold all that God-given Glory. And that’s where you come in. Because it just so happens you are one of those.
- I don’t quite follow.
- You say yes to archangel Gabriel, he descends upon you and solves all your problems.
- …
- Well?
- He will save my boys, he will avenge Mary?
- And he will save the world as bonus.
- I… I mean how… But that’s…
- It’s simple John. Say yes and you will walk the Earth with Archangel of Justice for a while, righting wrong and saving kittens or you say no and you wake up from this dream and return to your life. Think about it.
Before the dream dissolves, John has time to ask:
- But who are you?
- I’m just a messenger.
John doesn’t give answer that time or the time after that. But the knowledge that one simple yes is all that it will take, that he will have archangel as his ally – it’s mind-blowing.

[kayim.livejournal.com]

Primeval, Connor, Post-it note war

[kayim.livejournal.com]

Primeval, Danny/Anyone, Danny will do almost anything to get someone else to write up his reports

[with-rainfall.livejournal.com]

House MD, Thirteen/OFC, writing a song

Secret Words

[amles80.livejournal.com]

Too long for a comment! Read it in my journal:

http://amles80.livejournal.com/56242.html

[mithrel.livejournal.com]

White Collar, any, Neal is their muse.

[mithrel.livejournal.com]

White Collar, June, writing her memoirs.

[with-rainfall.livejournal.com]

Tamora Pierce (Circle of Magic), Briar/Tris, the first time she taught him to write

[mangacrack.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Sam/Gabriel, Sam is an author, writing about an archangel turned pagan god

fill

[shi-mo.livejournal.com]

Sam likes Gabriel. At first it was usual excitement – new book, new characters. But then suddenly half the way in Sam starts to catch himself on idle though that are - frankly – quite disturbing. That’s not like Gabriel is real. None of it is real. Figment of his imagination fueled by north-European myths and biblical texts and Apocrypha. And still as days go by and file tentatively named “archangel on the lam1.doc” grows bigger Sam starts to miss time he spends apart from that little bastard and his mad adventures and once or twice Sam even contemplates an idea of breaking the forth wall to hell and including himself into the book. Because then he can do things. And that’s where the crazy lies – Sam wants to meet crazy little bastard. Which is completely impossible, and yet… and yet… it’s madness. He is jealous when he writes that chapter with Sigyn and later Kali. And by that time he can acknowledge that he falling for his own character, for a string of lines on his own computer and that maybe he needs help – it’s all too far gone.

He finishes the book on Halloween, ignoring party invitations in favor of polishing last couple of scenes and putting “THE END” at the bottom. It’s long past midnight and by morning he can sent it all to his publisher and start to forget or plan a sequel or book a ticket to India, so he could spent a month in some temple making his head clear or maybe just go on a bender. The last one starts to look real great and his second glass is nearly empty when there is whoosh and flapping of wings and there is man in a pale trench coat standing near the window. And the most strange thing is not that he just – poof! – appeared on Sam’s frayed rag. No. The maddest thing is Sam knows him. It’s Castiel, character from half-finished short-story he abandoned in favor of pagan archangel. His first story with angels. It was supposed to be about angel raising a good man from Hell and something about love transcending everything. Sam feels a strange urge to apologize.

- Sor’y.

- Sam, what is it?

- Eh… Castiel?

- No matter. Hold tight.

Before Sam has a chance to say something stupid or even to lower his tumbler, two fingers descend on his forehead and the world implodes, reality collapsing into itself and leaving Sam disoriented and disgustingly sober and starring at worried man who looks too familiar.

Sam blinks. It’s Dean and Dean is… For a fleeting moment Dean is his character and then suddenly he is his older brother and reality can’t just choose one over another.

Sam shakes his head.

- Sam? Cas, I swear, if you asshole of a brother did something to Sam, I’m gonna…

And then reality finally settles down and Sam knows this is Dean and Cas and they are real. And Sam wonders if he qualifies as a prophet now and then thinks that maybe he should stake Gabriel again, just on principle. And maybe ask him for a drink. Suddenly a giggle slips from his lips.

- Sam?

He waves it off.

- It’s nothing, Dean. I just realized I wrote Dean slash Castiel fanfic.

Another giggle. Maybe he should go on convention this year.

- That’s it. I am killing your brother, Cas!

[mangacrack.livejournal.com]

Silmarillion, any, writing home to Valinor

[chiana606.livejournal.com]

Little Women ; Jo / Laurie ; distracting her while she tries to write

[with-rainfall.livejournal.com]

Family Ties - Mal helps Alex write a paper

[hanorganaas.livejournal.com]

Stargate Atlantis, John/Elizabeth, John writes a Song for Elizabeth on Her Birthday but isn't that great of a singer (Based on This Gem (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=psRKhLqi1dc))

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric (+ Winry Rockbell and/or Alphonse Elric), Why would anyone want to write about me?

[tigriswolf]

Glee, Kurt/Blaine, Kurt wrote a speech - but when he wins his first Oscar, he can't remember it

[ibonekoen]

Kurt's been prepared for this since he was six. Sure, the names and orders of individuals to thank has changed a multitude of times but the basics have always remained.

The speech has been written in crayon on construction paper, then glitter ink on Hello Kitty stationary, and finally sensible blue ink on college-ruled notebook paper. He's rehearsed it in front of mirrors so many times that he's convinced he can recite it in his sleep. Blaine swears he has but he flat-out denies it.

So, it's no surprise that he's completely flummoxed. How can he, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, be standing on the stage at the Academy Awards, accepting the award for Best Costume Design, and have no idea what to say?

He swears he can hear the proverbial crickets as he stands at the podium, staring out at the crowd with wide, doe eyes. His mouth is open as if he's waiting for the words to just spill out in all their glory, and all that he manages (much to his infinite embarrassment) is a tiny squeak.

His eyes immediately sweep over the first few rows, and the fluttering in his heart and stomach calm as he locks gazes with Blaine. Sweet, loving, adorable Blaine, who's giving him the goofiest grin and double thumbs up. Wonderful, exceptional, patient and attentive Blaine, who's always been there by Kurt's side through the maddening hours and the moodiness that accompanies approaching deadline. His Blaine, who replaced an origami gum wrapper ring with a gold band, the promise to forever be his boy shifting to forever be his man.

He takes a deep breath, jittering nerves smoothing out. "Well, betcha thought the cat caught my tongue, didn't ya?" As a laugh ripples through the crowd, he relaxes, the words tumbling out of him with ease. "I'd like to thank my loving husband..."

[tigriswolf]

Glee, Kurt/Blaine, Blaine writes songs for Kurt (but he's too embarrassed to show him, because they're really bad)

[meatball42.livejournal.com]

He’s lying on his bed with a pad of paper and a pencil when Kurt walks in. Normally Blaine would greet his boyfriend with a smile and a kiss, but today he jumps up with a look of surprise. “Kurt! What are you doing here?”
Kurt pauses just inside the room. “Um, today is our Into the Woods sing-along.” He holds up the DVD case. “Did you forget?”
“Oh, no, of course not,” Blaine shakes his head, quickly collecting all the sheets of paper that are scattered across his bed. “Why don’t you start it up?”
Kurt picks up a sheet that had fallen to the ground. “Blaine,” he says carefully, “what are you hiding?”
“It’s nothing! Seriously, we should watch- don’t read that!”
Kurt’s giving him a ‘you’re acting out of character and it’s weirding me out’ face, and then he looks down at Blaine’s handwriting on the paper. His eyes get bigger and bigger as he reads.
Blaine sinks to the edge of the bed, head in his hands. He shakes his head when the laughter starts.
“Oh, my God, Blaine.”
“I know, I know. I’m completely hopeless.”
“You tried to rhyme my name with Walmart. I think that’s more on the blasphemy side of songwriting than hopeless.” The bed bounces beside him and Kurt’s arm curls around his shoulders. “You wrote me a love song?”
Blaine looks up, smiling wryly. “I wrote about a dozen. None of them are any better than that one.”
Kurt’s getting that misty-eyed look that Blaine usually only sees during Julie Andrews movies. “What is it?”
“You are the sweetest boyfriend a guy could ever want,” Kurt says, possibly tearing up a little and squashing him in a hug.
“If I tried to sing any of those to you in Glee club you would probably tear my vocal chords out.”
“I’m willing to ignore that and concentrate on how much I love you as long as you stick to singing other people’s songs in the future.”
“It’s a deal.”

[tigriswolf]

Harry Potter, Harry, if Harry could write his own epitaph, it’d be fuck you all and the broom you flew in on

Fill:

[noxnoctisanima.livejournal.com]

Harry wasn't always pissed off at the entire world. For a long while there he was only really pissed off at certain individuals; the Dursleys for being abusive assholes; his teachers for not noticing he'd been deeply abused; social services for not once visiting!

Then the Wizarding World had come along and Harry had though it'd all be getting better. Well that's a fucking laugh.

They'd let him almost die a few times, blamed him for being too like his father, not being enough like his father, for being a hero, for not being the hero they wanted him to be, for the falling prices of newt eyes for all he knew.

Then he finds out that this bigoted, ridiculous society (who think it's completely alright to slander a fourteen year old in a national newspaper) are looking to him to save them all.

Well fuck all that.

Voldemort will come after him no matter what he does, of this Harry is quite sure but just like Dumbledore begged him, he can do something meaningful with his death, which will be to flip the world a gigantic bird.

He can write his own epitaph and what it will say to the whole world and the Wizarding world in particular will be fuck you all and the broom you flew in on.

If they survive little Tommy Riddle (another of their big fucking mistakes) maybe they'll learn not to screw over someone they're hoping will help them in the future.

[mahmfic.livejournal.com]

Any, Any, love letters

Maybe, My Love

[xpnkitty.livejournal.com]

It’s less of a diary, and more of a collection of love letters.
 
Jack keeps it to himself because there’s no sense in dwelling on the past, but he cries every time he watches the tapes she left. It’s never less heartbreaking than the first time, and sometimes it’s even more so when he stops to think of how it all ended.
 
You don’t know how I feel, Toshiko sighs, somehow managing to seem hopeful as she glances into the camera, but maybe one day I’ll tell you.
 
It’s a promise that runs through the entire archive, all of her hopes and dreams laid bare for the encryptions she spent more time with than the people around her. He never would have believed that they were so similar.
 
Sometimes, I don’t know what I’m doing here. I feel lost sometimes – all alone in the world. But then you smile at me and there’s no way I could leave, no way I could ever give this up. I keep going back to that time under the mistletoe and it makes it all better – stupid, I know – but then I can dream that one day you’ll feel the same.
 
One day, maybe someday – all things that Jack’s dreamed about since he was a boy, and he wonders if it’ll ever happen for him.
 
And then he makes it back to the first video, the one that started everything.
 
If you’re watching this, I guess I’m dead… Owen, I love you.
 
But he doesn’t get the luxury of waiting until he’s dead. It’s all the pain of being human, of yearning and hoping for something just out of reach like all of Tosh’s love letters. Jack can recall the faces, the occasional name, and suddenly it’s just too much to carry with him anymore.
 
‘Cray,’ He begins, ‘John’, ‘Jack’, ‘Ianto’, going through all of the names and writing them all down, trying to ease the crushing weight that Toshiko’s left him with. ‘I loved you, all of you. I dreamed of our someday, our maybe, our dreams. I wanted to protect you, love you, look after you. I wanted to be with you all forever-’
 
It’s a love letter to all of the men and women he’s loved over the centuries and by the time he’s done, Jack knows exactly how Toshiko felt.
 
But she didn’t have forever. Jack’s still alone in that.
 
He burns the reminder, watches the paper curl up on itself until there’s nothing left but ashes, but Jack can’t get her out of his mind.
 
And somehow - just maybe - as he thinks back to the light in her eyes as she spoke, Jack’s still dreaming about his own maybe.

[tigriswolf]

Harry Potter, Harry + author's choice, I must not tell lies is written on his hand

Odd fill

[truthwritaslies.livejournal.com]

He wears gloves when he can get away with it, keeps his hands in his pockets when he can't. He could draw the hand perfectly even with it tied behind his back, all the little blemishes and imperfections that curl around the words.

His children ask him about it, one by one as they get old enough to take notice of such things, and he uses the scars as a warning; not only to keep oneself honest but also to be wary of the villany in the most harmless looking souls.

The words are a constant reminder of what he fights for in his day to day life. Every day the remembered pain and injustice, the slide of warm blood across his hand; reminds him to be gentle, to be kind, to be careful of his students and their fragile hearts.

It is written across the top of the chalkboard to remind his students that virtue still exists and that liars and cheats always fail.

Harry stares at the back of his gloved hand, mentally tracing the lines as his hand rests on the doorknob. Then he takes a deep breath and steps into his classroom, ready to start a new year.

Already he can hear the whispers, long established rumors about his hand flying as he makes his way to the front desk.

[jade-1459.livejournal.com]

Stargate Atlantis, any, letters home

fill: Mélodie pour Trois (Melody for Three)

[scarlet-gryphon.livejournal.com]

((Set in my "Rodney-as-a-Tok'ra" 'Verse; if you want to find out the backstory, go to my LJ. ^^))

The first letter arrives a month and half or so after Jeannie gets back from Atlantis the first time, and it surprises her so much that she has to check the return address twice. It hasn't changed from the first time she saw it; it still reads 'R. S. M. McKay, Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado Springs, Colorado' the second time around. Curious-- because the last time Mer had written her had been in college --Jeannie opens the envelope and starts to read.

Dear Jeannie, the letter begins in Mer's distinctive scrawl, Thanks to Syresh's insistence, I'm writing you instead of sending off an e-mail. She says it's more personable this way. --the handwriting changes mid-sentence briefly, becoming far more precise than Mer's ever was (and a little more feminine): It is, trust me. --and then switches back --Anyways, I wanted to see how you were doing since you left. It's been pretty quiet here, which is surprising, to be honest. Usually we can barely go a week without something happening, but beyond the usual chaos caused by incompetence on the part of the lab rats, nothing untoward has happened. Sheppard says hello, as do the others.

Mer's handwriting changes again, though this time a little more naturally. The color of the pen used changes as well, as if the letter was put down at some point and then taken up again. Jeannie keeps on reading, sipping at her coffee as she relaxes in her chair.

Hello, Jeannie. It's Syresh's writing again; hers is flowing yet still quite easy to read. Rodney's asleep at the moment; he was up on one of his all-night work jags, and I've only just got him to go to sleep. It was good to finally meet you. Hopefully, though, the next time we see one another will be under better circumstances. I know Rodney probably won't say it, but we send our love. Give our best wishes to Kaleb and Madison. We'll write soon again.

Love, from,

Syresh and Rodney.

Jeannie smiles once she finishes the letter, sets it down, and then gets up to find some paper and a pen. She wonders if this is the start of a better relationship with her brother. She hopes so.