Friday: Poem Lines & Titles!

[schweinsty.livejournal.com]

Hello, everyone. Happy end of the week to those of you with traditional work schedules! I’m schweinsty, posting a little early and hoping y'all have a fantastic weekend and today's theme is poem titles or lines. Prompts can be, as you might have guessed, lines or titles from poems.

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...
+ Fullmetal Alchemist (manga/Brotherhood), Roy Mustang, How Bright It Is (Brian Turner)
+ Gintama, Sakata Gintoki, One need not be a chamber to be haunted/One need not be a house; The brain has corridors surpassing/Material place (Emily Dickinson)
+ Gintama, Hijikata Toshiro/Okita Mitsuba, You are gone./Three words. And not one/of them/exists now in any/other context (Henric Nordbrandt)

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 2018 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=poem titles & lines

Comments

[schweinsty.livejournal.com]

Fullmetal Alchemist, any, For each ecstatic instant/we must an anguish pay (Emily Dickinson)

[schweinsty.livejournal.com]

Marvel Cinematic Universe, Clint Barton(/Laura Barton), The little toil of love, I thought/was large enough for me (Emily Dickinson)

[schweinsty.livejournal.com]

Fullmetal Alchemist (manga/Brotherhood), Roy Mustang, How Bright It Is (Brian Turner)

[schweinsty.livejournal.com]

Gintama, Sakata Gintoki, One need not be a chamber to be haunted/One need not be a house; The brain has corridors surpassing/Material place (Emily Dickinson)

[schweinsty.livejournal.com]

Gintama, Hijikata Toshiro/Okita Mitsubo, You are gone./Three words. And not one/of them/exists now in any/other context (Henric Nordbrandt)

[ami-ven.livejournal.com]

Any, any, Old age hath yet his honor and his toil./ Death closes all; but something ere the end,/ Some work of noble note, may yet be done,/ Not unbecoming men that strove with gods. ("Ulysses" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson)

[ami-ven.livejournal.com]

Any, any, "Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep" (by Mary Elizabeth Frye)

FILL: Teen wolf, War of the wolves

[cozy-coffee.livejournal.com]

Once upon a time, in a faraway land--no, scratch that. This was not a fairy tale.
War was coming. The Alpha pack was moving in, threatening to destroy everything, and everyone, it their path. Those that were fragile, being as soft and vulnerable as they were, would be lambs to the slaughter.

Rage surged through him so quickly his breath caught within his ribcage. Derek’s broad chest heaved as he scented the air; he could almost smell Death in the wind, ripe and putrid. He bared his teeth in a snarl, heavy muscles were tensing, coiling, like a snake preparing to strike.

The damp air felt hotter, seemingly vicious and snarling like a beast aching to be free from their cage. The hot, tight feeling in his chest was slightly soothed as Stiles leaned into his embrace, hugging him, offering a small taste of comfort. Derek sighs and easily falls into the hug, strong arms wrapping tight around his soul mate as if to protect him from the oncoming storm.

Derek knew they were coming for Stiles, the boy who runs with wolves. They would kill him for the pleasure of taking the most important thing to Derek, the only thing that made his heart beat. Even as the sun begins to set, Derek clings to Stiles with all his might, afraid he’ll disappear if he lets go. Stiles holds on just as tightly, closing his eyes and breathing in the wolf’s familiar scent, the scent of love and home. The thought of not being able to wake up the love of his life made Derek’s heckles rise, a snarl rumbling from his chest.

They had to run. It was the only way to survive.

(END)

[ami-ven.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Castiel/Dean Winchester, His arms are rods of gold set with topaz. His body is like polished ivory decorated with lapis lazuli. His legs are pillars of marble set on bases of pure gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, choice as its cedars. His mouth is sweetness itself; he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, this is my friend, daughters of Jerusalem. (The Bible, Song of Solomon, chapter 5, verses 9-16)

[beckonade.livejournal.com]

Any, Any/Any, Publish my name and hang up my picture as that of the tenderest lover, Walt Whitman

[beckonade.livejournal.com]

WWE, Kevin Owens/Sami Zayn, You do not have to be good / You do not have to walk on your knees / For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting / You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves, Mary Oliver

[vanillafluffy.livejournal.com]

MCU, Tony Stark, The Emperor of Ice Cream (by Wallace Stevens)

[cozy-coffee.livejournal.com]

Any, any/any, after us (by connie wanek)

Johnlock retirement fill

[sherlockian-syn.livejournal.com]

Sherlock was not fond of retirement.

Especially on days like today: cold, raining, sky the color of gravestones. He missed London whenever it rained in the countryside. He missed the work, the race to catch the clues hidden between drops of rain and lost in puddles.

Evidence of his boredom was spread around the cottage. Books were strewn about the living room floor, some still lying open and airing Sherlock's spidery handwritten notes in the margins. His violin case sat in the bay window, open, violin tucked inside but the bow mysteriously missing. In the kitchen, his pile of sketchbooks sat in the middle of the dining table, filled with messy attempts at subjects like fields, barns, sheep, a bowl of eggs, his flute, a clever face.

Not his, of course. No, the only thing that had been constant in his life besides the work had been John Watson. And when the work was over, John had remained.

It was never the work, Sherlock. It was you. You were the reason I stayed.

They'd had many conversations like this one since moving away from London. There were many hours to fill, and talking seemed to pass the time more than any of the inane hobbies Sherlock had tried to pick up. More time for music, reading, bee keeping, all things he had pushed aside for the sake of of being a consulting detective.

More time for John.

Just when the white noise of the rain began to be too much for Sherlock's racing thoughts, the only saving grace of retirement walked into the room, past the clutter, took Sherlock's hand, and squeezed it.

"We have a leaky roof," John said, his voice quiet.

"What?" Sherlock shook the remaining thoughts from his head and turned toward his husband. "Where?"

"In the bedroom. Over the bed. The only reason I noticed is because I heard water drip into your guitar, which, by the way, you should really put away when you're not playing it."

Sherlock's eyes grew wide. "My guitar? How bad is it?"

John smiled in reassurance. "It was just a few drops, I moved it. Although if we want a dry place to sleep tonight, we may want to look at patching the roof sooner rather than later."

Sherlock smiled at John and nodded. "A problem that needs fixing. Just what I needed."

John laughed and the sound of it echoed through the tiny cottage and, for a moment, drowned out the noise of the rain. "Do you think this rain will ever stop?"

Sherlock shrugged and turned away from the window to head towards the kitchen. "It will cease or it will keep falling. Doesn't really matter much to me. Just as long as you're here."

[cozy-coffee.livejournal.com]

Any, any, one morning (by eamon grenna)

[squidgiepdx]

Filled!

Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, "a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/13991175">The Rest Of Our Lives, Together"

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay,

so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
(Pablo Neruda, XVII: I Do Not Love You...)

Fill 1/2: SPN fusion

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

“You summoned me?”

Rodney lifted his head sharply, startled. He’d been dozing over the Ancient Kurdish tome Daniel had unloaded on him the last time he and Jeannie had stopped by the bookstore.

John was leaning in the doorway, unfairly handsome in a dark suit, white button-down shirt open at the collar, hair just-fucked messy even though Rodney was pretty sure John fucked no one but him.

“Yes,” Rodney said. He sat up straighter, stretched, winced at the cracking sounds in his back and neck and shoulders.

“What do you want?”

Rodney glanced over his shoulder at the bed where Jeannie was sound asleep. Even though he couldn’t see Evan, he was pretty sure that the angel was hovering somehow, fretting over Jeannie, the key to the apocalypse. Tainted by demon blood since infancy.

“Can you make this all go away?” Rodney asked.

“I’m just a demon, Rodney. Not a miracle-worker. Miracles are more in the - feathery department.” John flicked a glance toward the corner of the cheap motel room.

There was a flash of lightning, and for a split second Rodney saw a stark silhouette on the far wall of a man with a pair of mighty wings, and then there was a crash of thunder and the man was gone.

Rodney sighed. “Can you make me go away?”

John was across the room in an instant, one hand on Rodney’s shoulder. His eyes flickered black, and then -

Then they were standing at the very top of a tall, tall mountain, oceans of spiky green pines spilling down the slopes all around them. The sky was heavy and dark with clouds, but John glanced upward, and the clouds parted to reveal a slice of moonlight and stars.

“Just a demon?” Rodney asked.

“We’re away,” John said in a low voice. “Evangelical is babysitting Jeannie.” He stepped closer. “Tell me, Meredith Rodney McKay, what do you want?”

“I want it all to stop.” Rodney shook his head. “How are Jeannie and I possibly supposed to stand up to this? The apocalypse? Something predestined from the dawn of time?”

“Not just Jeannie and you.”

“You and Evan?”

“Yes.”

“What can you possibly do?”

“There are two kinds of demons, the kind who started human and whose souls had the humanity tortured out of them, and then the kind who started up above - and fell.”

Rodney blinked, rocked back a step, cast a wild glance at the starlit sky that hadn’t been starlit when they’d arrived. “You mean -”

[sherlockian-syn.livejournal.com]

Any, any, Raw With Love by Charles Bukowski

Fill: Stargate SG-1, Daniel/Sha're, AU from Forever in a Day

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

She was his Sha’re, the one he’d always known. The drug Janet had cooked up to suppress Amaunet was a miracle. The SGC wouldn’t let Daniel take her back to Abydos, because they needed him here, on SG-1. And they wanted to watch Sha’re. They didn’t have to, though, because she was Sha’re through-and-through, and Amaunet was gone.

Also gone were the sleepless nights when Daniel roamed he halls of the SGC, mug of tepid coffee in hand, pondering the latest batch of artefacts and translations delivered to him for analysis. Now Sha’re would poke her head into his office, remind him to break for dinner, or ask him to take her out of the base and into the city so she could see his world, see the things he’d grown up with.

When Daniel was going through the gate with the rest of the team or working in his office, Sha’re busied herself down in the archives, helping the tiny bespectacled woman who marshaled the base’s media library. As a result, the little room Sha’re called her own was full of books and records. Daniel didn’t notice at first, but then he realized - Sha’re had built a collection of books and records that he loved, that he’d talked about, that he’d missed on Abydos. She’d play him Joni Mitchell and Bob Dylan and Johnny Cash, Billy Joel and Rachmaninoff. She’d read him passages from A Dragonfly in Amber and The Lord of the Rings and Love in the Time of Cholera in her halting, sweet, perfect English and Spanish, because reading was magic, reading was power, reading was what had freed her people.

But sometimes, when Daniel couldn’t take her out to the movies or to window-shop at the mall or to drive through one of the nearby state parks, he saw something flash in her eyes, something that wasn’t her, wasn’t kind, and he was afraid.

He had Sha’re back with him, in his arms, tasted his own morning coffee on her lips, sat beside her for lunch at noon, let their bodies spill together in her bed midnight after midnight, and he was glad.
He held her close after they made love, breathing in the scent of her skin, her hair, imagining her kind eyes and dreading the day they were unkind forever, when he’d have to surrender her (not-her, Amaunet) to Teal’c for - not vengeance. Mercy.

My little dark girl with the kind eyes, he thought. On that day, I will use the knife myself. You gave me everything. I will give you all that’s left of me.

Because when she was finally gone, he would be too.

[reeby10.livejournal.com]

Buzzfeed Unsolved RPF, Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej, Ghost Music (Robert Graves)

[reeby10.livejournal.com]

MCU, Bucky Barnes
Winter was the ravaging in the scarified
Ghost garden
(How Can It Be I Am No Longer I by Lucie Brock-Broido)

[reeby10.livejournal.com]

The Shape of Water, Elisa Esposito (/The Asset), A water woman has no body (Lisa Ciccarello)

[reeby10.livejournal.com]

Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay
we // listened to the stars hiss
into the bent horizon, blossoms
the sea gathered tenderly, each
shattered and singular one
long dead, but even so, incandescent,
making a singed sound, singing
as they went.
(Under Stars by Dorianne Laux)

[reeby10.livejournal.com]

any, any f/f
When Beauty and Beauty meet
All naked, fair to fair,
The earth is crying-sweet
(Beauty and Beauty by Rupert Brooke)

[emmatheslayer.livejournal.com]

Call me by your name rpf, Timothée Chalamet /armie hammer, all I have to bring today

[emmatheslayer.livejournal.com]

Shadowhunters, Raphael /Simon Lewis, I stood on a high place

[emmatheslayer.livejournal.com]

Call me by your name rpf, Timothée Chalamet /armie hammer, awaking in New York

[emmatheslayer.livejournal.com]

One direction rpf, harry styles /zayn mailk, happenstance

[emmatheslayer.livejournal.com]

One direction rpf, harry styles /zayn mailk, church