Lullay, thou little tiny child,
By, by, lullay, lullay
Lullay, thou little tiny child,
By, by, lullay, lullay.
O sisters too, how may we do,
For to preserve this day,
This poor youngling for whom we sing,
By, by, lullay, lullay.
Herod the king in his ragin,
Charged he hath this day,
His men of night, in his own sight,
All children young to stay.
Then woe is me, poor child, for thee,
And ever mourn and say,
For thy parting not say, nor sing,
By, by, lullay, lullay.
Doesn't this inspire you to mayhem? The challenge: Write 1k words based on the Coventry Carol. Your choice of pairing. Excess schmoop will result in a contract being put out on your typing fingers.
I am, perhaps, being a little too funny. What is it you actually want to end up with?
I've been listening to the song on repeat since yesterday (Advent tradition for me), and find it both depressing and inspiring. I think it would make for good depressing holiday based fic.
I'm not sure how to word that for a challenge.
Thanks, Plei. I was feeling that the expletive was a bit much first thing in the AM, but it is Munch...
It could inspire dark fic very well... makes me want to write one, anyway.
I'd include the words to the carol, and a link to the music online, if I could find it, and then say something like:
The Coventry Carol commemorates the murders of all the babies in Bethlehem when Herod attempted to kill the messiah and subvert the prophecy.
and then tell them how many words and what kind of fic you were looking for... something about exploring the demons in relation to the song. blah blah.. I dunno, something like that.
Writing him is quite simple, really.
1. Think of the thing that that would be the worst thing ever(in the situation) to say...most thoughtless, tackiest...grandma would be horrified.
2. Say it anyway.
Or maybe that's just me.
3. Add cursing and "babe," to taste. Cause you're not writing for Montel Williams.
You write him better than I ever could, Erika. He's the epitome of munchness in your hands.
That's because we have the same evil thoughts....a lot of the time.(more of mine are about men, but) I just have to go pretend to be a civilized person sometimes, which he could give a shit about. My superego either saves me from a lot of stuff or holds me back severely...I'm not sure which. And there's the whole gender thing...letting the guy talk first, all that.That is a whole ball of wax altogether, am I right babe? Entirely unwanted, predominantly unconscious, and yet...there it is. I hesitate to call it a conspiracy, but it is a marvel of conditioning.
I could be getting Francis Drake's sloppy seconds, generations removed.
BWAH!
My people were swathed in Europe.
Oh, dear Lord. I so obviously married the right woman on the internet.
DAMN, erika.
