Literary Friday
Sep. 9th, 2016 12:22 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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comment_ficHello once more! I’m ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dreammaidenn and this is my last day hosting, it's been fun. Today's theme is literature. Books, poems, quotes, writing...You can twist the theme however you want. Prompts can be anything as long as it involves literature in some way.
Just a few rules:
No more than five prompts in a row.
No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
Use the character's full names and fandom's full name for ease adding to the Lonely Prompts spreadsheet.
No spoilers in prompts for a month after airing, or use the spoiler cut option found here.
If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space, or use the spoiler cut.
If there are possible triggers in your story, please warn for them in the subject line!
Prompts should be formatted as follows: [Use the character's full names and fandom's full name]
Fandom, Character +/ Character, Prompt
Some examples to get the ball rolling...
+ MCU, Clint Barton/Pietro Maximoff, "Young Adult fiction is not just for teenagers."
+ Star Wars:TFA, Finn/Poe Dameron (+Rey), Poe always disturbs Finn's shift at the library
+ Merlin, Arthur/Merlin, One of them is a book restorer, the other one a complete bookworm
We use AO3 to bookmark filled prompts. If you fill a prompt and post it to AO3 please add it to the Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2016 collection. See further notes on this new option here.
Not feeling any of today’s prompts? Check out Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet 1 (not very current), Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet 2, or the Calendar Archives, or for more recent prompts, you can use LJ's advanced search options to find prompts to request and/or fill.
While the Lonely Prompts Spreadsheets and LJ's advanced search options are available, bookmarking the links of prompts you like might work better for searching for in the future.
tag=literature
dreammaidenn and this is my last day hosting, it's been fun. Today's theme is literature. Books, poems, quotes, writing...You can twist the theme however you want. Prompts can be anything as long as it involves literature in some way. Just a few rules:
No more than five prompts in a row.
No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
Use the character's full names and fandom's full name for ease adding to the Lonely Prompts spreadsheet.
No spoilers in prompts for a month after airing, or use the spoiler cut option found here.
If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space, or use the spoiler cut.
If there are possible triggers in your story, please warn for them in the subject line!
Prompts should be formatted as follows: [Use the character's full names and fandom's full name]
Fandom, Character +/ Character, Prompt
Some examples to get the ball rolling...
+ MCU, Clint Barton/Pietro Maximoff, "Young Adult fiction is not just for teenagers."
+ Star Wars:TFA, Finn/Poe Dameron (+Rey), Poe always disturbs Finn's shift at the library
+ Merlin, Arthur/Merlin, One of them is a book restorer, the other one a complete bookworm
We use AO3 to bookmark filled prompts. If you fill a prompt and post it to AO3 please add it to the Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2016 collection. See further notes on this new option here.
Not feeling any of today’s prompts? Check out Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet 1 (not very current), Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet 2, or the Calendar Archives, or for more recent prompts, you can use LJ's advanced search options to find prompts to request and/or fill.
While the Lonely Prompts Spreadsheets and LJ's advanced search options are available, bookmarking the links of prompts you like might work better for searching for in the future.
tag=literature
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 07:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 07:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 07:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 07:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 07:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 08:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 08:17 am (UTC)Not a fill
Date: 2016-09-09 04:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 08:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 08:30 am (UTC)FILL: SPN< Sam & Dean, hurt/comfort
Date: 2016-09-12 03:52 pm (UTC)Well, it’s not like Dean didn’t try. But try being all he can do now, and that is not good enough. He could do the whole airplane thing with the spoon, however, all that would do is earn him is a bitch face from his sibling.
His sick sibling. His sibling who is killing himself by undertaking the trails in order to shut the gates of Hell and lock up every evil bastard that ever ruined their lives. The bloody handkerchiefs, the fever, the shaky legs...this is not good, and Sam is not good and he will not be until the third trial is complete and part of Dean—a big part—is enraged with God who demands blood—Sammy’s blood—to save the world. Haven’t they given enough? Have they not suffered enough loss and heartbreak?
Sam goes back to research and Dean gives him space, against his heart’s desire to crowed in close and do everything and anything to comfort his ill sibling. Most of the day Dean spends cleaning his guns and going over lore books, keeping his mind off thoughts of his brother slipping away from him with every ragged breath. Hour by hour, he grows exhausted, eyes too heavy to keep open.
He must have slipped off to sleep, the next thing he is aware of his Sam’s hand on his shoulder shaking him awake. Even with a hand on Dean’s shoulder to balance, Sam sways, shaky and feverish. Dean wraps an arm around him to cradle him and together they head to bed.
They don’t really talk as they change into their pajamas and brush their teeth, going about their nightly routine; just more or less exchange a few grunts and soft hums that speak in a wordless language they have both understood since they were children.
Just like when they were kids, Dean picks out a book from the shelf and climbs into bed with Sam. His brother’s breathing is a bit rougher, like he can’t catch his breath and his chest seems to shake, but like a little boy eager for a bedtime story he cuddles up with Dean and lays his head on his chest, listing as his brother reads to him.
‘You use to read to me when I was little, I mean really little.’ Sam’s words echo in Dean’s thoughts and take him back to a time when Sammy was a tiny tot and just starting to read. He stuttered over the words and mispronounced them, but Dean never made fun of him, only offered praise and encouragement and like a beautiful flower blossoming in a garden, Sammy came to read without error.
A rough, bloody, ragged cough brings Dean back to the present, Sam is spitting blood into his hand and grunting in agony, and Dean wishes they could go back to simpler times, where his only problem was teaching his little brother to read. ‘Please,’ Dean wishes to anyone who is listening, ‘Take me back to the beginning.’
♥ END ♥
Re: FILL: SPN< Sam & Dean, hurt/comfor
From:no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 10:38 am (UTC)Learn more about LiveJournal Ratings in FAQ (https://www.dreamwidth.org/support/faqbrowse?faqid=303).
no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 11:10 am (UTC)Bonus points for Lorne making new covers for Rodney with him and John on them.
no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 02:07 pm (UTC)Fill 1 / 2 : The Faculty - Casey Connor & Zeke Tyler
Date: 2016-09-27 10:06 pm (UTC)Guys! Stokely rolled her eyes. How was it possible that they were on the best way to ruin a wonderful evening because of such a stupid fight?
For so long she had waited for this event. The premiere of the second Lord-of-the-rings Movie. The tickets had been sold out since weeks. But of course, Zeke had managed it to get three of them anyway. It had been a great event; the theater had turned into Middle-earth with all the decor and merchandise booths; the great film music by Howard Shore was playing in the background. Dressed up people everywhere; Gandalf was chatting with Saruman, Galadriel flirting with Aragon, Hobbits, Gollum, Legolas, and Arwen; some costumes just amazing, some of them a bit ridiculous, but no one cared. All of them were bound together through the love for Tolkien and his work. And / or the movies, Peter Jackson had made out of the wonderful story.
Or, that was the keyword. Casey, dressed up as the most perfect Frodo Stokely could imagine; almost a double of Elijah Wood, who had taken over the role in the movie, had gotten a lot of attention. Not only other visitors of the movie asked him for a photo together, no, he had also attracted the interest of the press; he was interviewed several time, picture and videos were taken. And though he actually didn't like it to stand in the spotlight, he obviously seemed to enjoy it this time. His eyes were sparkling, he was all smile and chatted briskly with everyone around.
Zeke's mood, though, had darkened with every minute. Finally, he couldn't hold back anymore.
„I don't get it,“ he huffed, obviously annoyed.
„How can make people such a fuss because of this shitty movie?“
„Huh?“
Casey stared at him.
„But it's brilliant. The movies brought Middle-earth to life.“
„Wrong. Tolkien did, with his books. He created the world, as complex as ours. And Jackson did fuck it up. The movies are a shit!“
Casey blinked.
„No, they are not! The Shire is just wonderful, just like I've always pictured it. And the Hobbits?“
He laughed and dangled with his feet, which were dressed in big, hairy socks.
„How can you not like them? They are warmhearted. Funny. So small but so strong.“
Stokely noticed Zeke's eyes resting thoughtfully on Casey for a short moment; then he shook his head violently.
„Maybe. Some parts of the movie are quite okay. But the rest of it? Elves at Helms Klamm? Arwen? Come on, it's a pain what Jackson did with the books. Tolkien would turn over in his grave if he would know.“
Casey smirked.
„Zeke, you are an ignorant shit. I'm sure Tolkien would be more generous. Of course, you can't film a book like this one-to-one; Peter Jackson has the right to his own interpretation.“
„The right?“
Stokely almost flinched at Zeke's booming voice; some people around already started to throw curious looks in their direction.
„The right? That's outright bullshit, Casey. Dumbheads like you might fall for it, but no one who loves Tolkien's books will ever agree.“
He turned around and, pushing some bystanders aside, he cut his way through the crowd to the entrance of the theater. Casey looked stunned, Stokely noticed some tears sparkling in his eyes. Great! She put her arm around his shoulder and wondered what actually had happened to let Zeke freak out like that. Okay, in a way she agreed with him, not all what Jackson did with the books was like Tolkien had planned it to be. But was it that bad? She loved the books, had read them umpteenth of times but that didn't mean that she couldn't enjoy the movies, too. Jackson had done a good job, that was out of every question.
„I need to go to the washroom,“ Casey interrupted her thoughts, his voice still trembling.
„We can meet in front of the theater later, okay?“
She nodded knowingly; when Casey needed some time alone, the washroom was always a welcome refuge for him. In the meantime she would look after Zeke, have a serious talk with him.
(more part 2)
Re: Fill 2 / 2 : The Faculty - Casey Connor & Zeke Tyler
From:no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 02:12 pm (UTC)Alec/Magnus, Max & Rafael, Where the Wild Things Are
Date: 2016-09-09 05:45 pm (UTC)Alec was interrupted by his youngest son who was sitting on his lap and pointing at the picture of book Max. "Hey! That's my name!!" He looked up at Alec with a grin. "Is this a book about me, dad? Is it? Is it?"
Magnus chuckled softly from the other side of the room where he was sitting with Rafael. "No, Max. This is a different little boy."
"Aww..." Max pouted, leaning back against Alec.
"Should we pick another book, Max?" Alec asked.
Max shook his head. "No. You can keep reading."
"Okay," Alec said and began to read the book again. It wasn't long until he was interrupted once more. "'So he was sent to bed without eating anything..'"
"No food? Why would his mommy do that?" Max exclaimed.
"Because he was being bad, Max," Magnus replied. "And bad kids go to be with no food."
"Nooooooo."
Alec couldn't help but grin and ruffled Max's hair. "So if you want to have dinner at night, always be a good boy."
"Dad, you wouldn't send us to be without dinner," Rafael said, crossing his arms. "No matter how bad we were."
"Okay, I would let you have dinner, but not ice cream."
Max gasped. "But I love ice cream!"
"Then remember to be a good boy, Max," Magnus said. "Alexander, darling, please continue."
Finishing the book took longer than planned as Max kept asking questions, afterwards they tucked their children into bed.
"I want to be king of the wild things," Max yawned, as Alec handed him his stuffed lion that Isabelle had gotten him.
Alec smiled. "I thought you wanted to be a pirate?"
"I will be a pirate who is also king of the wild things."
Alec chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "You can be whatever you want to be, Max. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, dad. Goodnight, papa," Max yawned again. "Goodnight, Rafe."
RE: Alec/Magnus, Max & Rafael, Where the Wild Things Are
From:RE: Alec/Magnus, Max & Rafael, Where the Wild Things Are
From:no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 02:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 02:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 02:28 pm (UTC)Fill 1 / 2 : The Walking Dead - Daryl Dixon
Date: 2016-09-25 05:48 pm (UTC)Daryl tried to put on a stoic face while he was sitting alone in a corner, cleaning his crossbow. Why on earth had Rick decided to look for shelter in an abandoned library? The church vis-a-vis would have been just as good. A big stone building with solid wooden doors, the windows nailed up. But no, it was the library where they would spend the night in some degree safe and warm; after days on the road finally able to find at least some rest.
Most of the group had already started to make themselves comfortable for the next hours. Glen and Maggie were sharing a blanket as ever; their heads put together. Carol rocked baby Judith in her arms; a book beside her. Rick and Carl had taken over the first shift of guard.
And Daryl? He had a hard time to keep breathing. The smell in the air, dust and old books, so familiar, only the flavor of freshly baked biscuits was missed. He had never shown any interest in books; his childhood had been characterized by the try to get trough the day without being beaten up by his father. His mother had never cared about it, all that she was interested in was how to get the next bottle of booze.
It had been one of those days when he fled out of the house together with Merle, his three years older brother. A thunderstorm storm had raged, the streets had been empty. No place where they could go. Finally, they ended in the old library of the village.
The big hall was empty, beside of a woman sitting behind the counter; she eyed them through her thick glasses and finally she offered them to stay until the worst was over. With a smile, she put some cookies on an old plate and reached it over. Though Merle had looked annoyed, Daryl hadn't been able to resist.
Merle was the tough one; he had already learned that life didn't give you anything if you were not willing to demand it. You had to fight to survive, and it was smart better to trust no one. He tried to teach his little brother this philosophy of life, but Daryl still had dreams of a better future. Fighting was not his cup of tea before he discovered crossbow archery. Soon enough he was even better with it than his brother. This was the moment when Merle stopped to take care of him.
The library deepened the rift between them. Merle was not interested in books and the care of the librarian he met with mistrust and rejection. For Daryl, though, it was like stepping into another world. For the first time in his life, he got a real chance; the woman didn't only spoil him with home-made treats and warm milk, she taught him to love books. Encouraged him to learn as much as possible. Trusted and believed in him.
"One day, little Puck, the world will be yours. You are stronger than you think. As long as you don't give up your dreams, everything is possible."
She had always called him Little Puck.
(more part 2)
Re: Fill 2 / 2 : The Walking Dead - Daryl Dixon
From:Re: Fill 2 / 2 : The Walking Dead - Daryl Dixon
From:Re: Fill 2 / 2 : The Walking Dead - Daryl Dixon
From:no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 02:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 02:32 pm (UTC)FILL: HIt the floor, Zero/Jude, fluff
Date: 2016-09-10 04:52 pm (UTC)Lush green grass will greet him as he walks up the driveway and a fond smile will twinkle on his lips when he sees the ‘Home, sweet, Home ’ sign that hangs by the door—the one his boyfriend could not resist buying the last time they went to the market.
Upon walking into the house the sweet smell of cookies will wave hello and make his mouth water and he will nearly bust a gut laughing when he sees Zero in the kitchen cooking, dawning a ‘kiss the cook’ apron. And he will kiss the cook and his soul will glow bright with an almost heavenly light while a song of love sparkle within his heart.
All too soon, he sees the future he wants with the man of his dreams and when that daydream nearly drifts out of his reach he cannot help but whine at the loss, one hand reaching out in a desperate attempt to keep it from fading away.
His hands hold on, he can almost feel the skin beneath his palms and scent the sweet aroma of Zero’s cologne. They stand so close they breathe the same breath. His lover brushes his curly hair aside, tucking the wild strand back behind his ears before palming his cheeks, cradling him with such tenderness his heart beams with pure joy.
They lean in, drawn to one another, hearts thumping in tune, their lips close enough to kiss softly. The pain in his heart burns with the dark dread of that happy dream drifting away; tears come to his eyes when the thought of his blissfully happily ever after slipping from his hands. But then Zero kisses him and gentles him with the reminder that very soon their house will be a home and he smile so brightly his dimple sparkle.
Sometimes Jude can close his eyes and let his thoughts take him to a place of goodness and hope and he pulls Zero into his arms and kisses him lovingly, the touch of the lips strokes something deep inside him that has him grinning so brightly his cheeks hurt, and a happy giggles flows from his lips.
The thought of living happily ever after sends a rush of joy swelling rapidly within in his heart. Yes, very soon all of his wishes will come true and he will get his fairy tale ending, a lifetime of joy, love and pure happiness with the man who makes him smile.
♥ END ♥
no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 03:05 pm (UTC)RPF, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, reading their children bedtime stories (and none of the kids are Freddie) (also, Louis does all the voices)
no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 03:06 pm (UTC)author's choice, author's choice,
Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.
no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 03:07 pm (UTC)author's choice, author's choice, whispering a poem into someone's skin
Fill: First Monday/SGA, Julian/John (poetry by John Donne)
Date: 2016-09-10 02:20 am (UTC)Julian is good with words. He's not good with his feelings, either, but then this isn't about feelings, it's about skin, and hands, and mouths, and skin and skin and skin.
Julian is pressed against John's back, pressing kisses up his spine, whispering as he draws John's shirt up, up, up.
It makes no sense, but John's pulse is speeding up. His eyes fall closed as the words brush across his skin, soft as butterfly wings.
"Mark but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou deniest me is;
It sucked me first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be."
John tips his head back, and Julian mouths along his shoulder to his throat, slides his hands up John's chest, strokes delicate fingers along the lines of his muscles.
"Thou know’st that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead,
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pampered swells with one blood made of two,
And this, alas, is more than we would do."
John's heartbeat doubles, his blood heats, and he surrenders to Julian's hands, and mouth, and skin. Julian turns his head to nibble at John's ear, slides his hands lower, and John swells under his skillful fingers.
Julian turns John around slowly, lowers him to the giant, soft mattress, and whispers kisses all the way down his body, from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet.
"Yet thou triumph’st, and say'st that thou
Find’st not thy self, nor me the weaker now;
’Tis true; then learn how false, fears be:
Just so much honor, when thou yield’st to me,
Will waste, as this flea’s death took life from thee."
John moans and writhes, closes his eyes and lifts his voice to the sky as Julian's breath steals over him and speaks him into a little death.
Re: Fill: First Monday/SGA, Julian/John (poetry by John Donne)
From:Re: Fill: First Monday/SGA, Julian/John (poetry by John Donne)
From:no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 03:07 pm (UTC)author's choice, author's choice, "What is it that you like so much about poetry?"
no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 03:08 pm (UTC)author's choice, author's choice, meeting your favorite literary character would not be as awesome as you think it is
no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 03:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-09-09 03:50 pm (UTC)