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an eerie, halloweenish, &/or generally autumnal
comment ficathon
LET'S DO THIS
1. all fandoms welcome
2. prompts should be somehow related to autumn or halloween; 'tis the season!
3. one prompt per comment, prompts should be formatted along the general lines of '[fandom] - [pairing/character] - [prompt]'
4. when you've filled a prompt, leave a link to it in the filled prompts comment thread
5. include a title, if the title muses are being cooperative :)
6. share!
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Date: 2012-10-08 06:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-08 08:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-08 08:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-08 08:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-08 08:44 am (UTC)The Inside- Rebecca- Becky George liked stories about monsters. Rebecca Locke knows that monsters are real.
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Date: 2012-10-08 08:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-08 09:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-08 11:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-08 11:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-08 12:26 pm (UTC)HOW
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Date: 2012-10-08 12:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-08 12:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-08 01:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-08 01:18 pm (UTC)peter/lydia, or actually peter&lydia. warning for: sickness.
There's no crying, no begging, no kicking and screaming. He's seen her stripped out of masks and make-up and flesh and bones. He's been living inside his head for long enough that when he finally sits beside her and he's as living as she is, she shudders and starts to silently cry. And he knows it's useless, because she's seen her heart and it's his.
Peter smiles, because that's how he likes her best: terrified because she knows it's true; because she knows he's marked her his. He loves it, the way she jerks away from his touch and when he smiles at her she looks away in despair. It makes him remember all that he's lived when he was part of her, too. And he still feels like not only he's part of her but she's part of him as well, and that she belongs to him, to the highest degree there is for someone to belong to anyone at all. He watches unaffectedly as Jackson comes forward and puts his hands around her protectively, and she leans in, makes sure his arms are around her, that she is protected.
Chuckling dryly, Peter shakes his head. This boy doesn't know anything. He's just a spoiled child.
But she is no child; she's a woman and she is his. He watches with unrequited eyes of possession as they walk away hurriedly, and Derek glares at him but doesn't stop him from smiling coldly. There is no stopping him, anyway.He lists adjectives and adverbs in his head, and thinks of theories as to why they still aren't together in flesh as they were doomed together in spirit.
Immune, he thinks. And his to take.
It's just a matter of time, he thinks, and walks forward. Just a matter of time, he thinks, and starts running. There is nothing that could ever come between a wolf and their mate, and as Jackson will soon find out when he tries to claim Lydia as his mate, he can't. Lydia Martin belongs to him.
(end.)
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Date: 2012-10-08 01:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-08 01:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-08 01:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-08 01:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-08 01:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-08 02:01 pm (UTC)OHH
OH
I CAN'T
That was so great! It was so concise but it perfectly described and projected Peter's feelings of possession over Lydia. It was haunting and dark and maybe a little bit sexy, just like Peter.
Thank you so much!
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Date: 2012-10-08 02:17 pm (UTC)They are not children of golden summer; gilded hair and gilded destinies notwithstanding. Summer is fat and easy. Winter is unprofitable. The middle way, and the middle men: that's a Lannister's place. Because in autumn, all debts are paid: all that living fat off easy pickings, it starts to hit home, starts to bite.
They say a Lannister always pays his debts. True. But a Lannister's debtors always repay too. With interest. Of one sort or another.
Cersei breathes in the air from the north. They say winter is coming, but a Stark always says as much. It has been too long, and she's almost stopped believing in winter, lost the memory of how it will be again. Till now. She breathes again, tasting the scent on the breeze and- yes, there. There is a hint. Of smoke and mist, putrefaction and dark rich rot. Of what comes before winter. Of a season of fruitful richness before white death comes upon them.
Down below her turret solar, Robert's household champs and bustles, completing preparations for the tedious trip to Winterfell. Cersei didn't want to go till this moment, but this breath is changing her mind. She'll go north, with reasonable grace, bear the inconvenience and unsought intimacies of the trip. And, as she returns, she'll bring the breath of autumn with her.
Winter is coming. In time. But before that, it's the Lannister season.
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Date: 2012-10-08 02:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-08 03:37 pm (UTC)Dig up the laughing photographs//They're here somewhere or other
Take what you can carry
But let me tell you brother
Still waters go stagnant//Bodies bloat
And the cellar door is an open throat
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Date: 2012-10-08 03:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-08 03:43 pm (UTC)Yesss, middle men, harsh but not bleak, lavish but not spoiled, exactly. I love Carsei as the harbinger of autumn, smelling like rotting foliage and sour but beautiful apples.
in conclusion YOU ARE MY FAVOURITE FOREVER and thank you.