Another writing meme!

[fickle]

Comment with a fandom or pairing you'd like me to write a drabble about. To give this a bit of a twist, also include a song lyric for inspiration.

For example:

Yami no Bakura/Yami no Malik, "I'm killing time on Valentine/waiting for the day to end/change your taste in men."

or

Animorphs, "I don't wanna say, "diiiie motherfucker!/But I wouldn't mind if you did/Sometimes even the nice girl's ego has to override the id?"

Again, repost only if you want to. ^_~

And a random list of some fandoms I'm into at the moment in alphabetical order: Animorphs, Archie Comics (Nostalgia kick, SHUT UP) Batman/DC, Bruno and Boots, Chrestomanci, Gravitation, Harry Potter, Naruto, Othello (the manga, seriously), Pokemon, Sailor Moon season R (please ask me for fic with Prince Diamond or Prince Sapphire or both, please), Yu-Gi-Oh, William Brown books.

Taken from ryuutchi, who is now on my flist!

Comments

bet you think I'm going to ask for kakasasu!

[a-white-rain.livejournal.com]

But I'm not.

Instead, I'm going to ask for Draco: 'Hope dangles on a string Like slow spinning redemption'

OMG SHOCK YOU DIDN'T. ... I used to be a Draco fan.

[fickle-goddess.livejournal.com]

Tick. Tock. Tick.

...Tock.

The clock here is slow. It's off by a few beats. Not many, but enough to irk Draco. He can't count by it. He can't count on it.

It's not reliable. Like him.

That could be taken two ways.

Even Draco's thought processes aren't reliable. They're ambigious. Like he is. Was. He's been caught, now. Caught and marked and known. Ambiguity is a fast-vanishing thing of the past, for him and Snape both.

Draco sits and waits to hear if Dumbledore is dead or not, and watches the spiders weave their webs.

[ryuutchi.livejournal.com]

Itachi/Sasuke "Every toe I tap will make you feel shell-shocked (battered as a Bosnian), every song I sing is hyper and cute (perkiness ad nauseum!)"
"Thoroughly Perky Millie", Forbidden Broadway

Seto/Mokuba "Doctor X will build a creature..."
"Science Fiction, Double Feature", Rocky Horror PIcture Show

Itachi/Sasuke -- very, very cracky. XD

[fickle-goddess.livejournal.com]

Itachi was beginning to develop a twitch.

That was rather worrying.

He was the pride and joy of the clan; he was one of the best ninjas the family had ever bred. He would master every jutsu in the world. He would become the most skilled ninja in--

Twitch.

He would develop a twitch and forever be known as the ninja that twitched. Enemies would laugh at him. Children would provoke him to try to make him twitch. Kaa-san would make him herbal tea. Tou-san would talk to him about pressure and stress.

And Sasuke--

Twitch.

Sasuke would keep singing. And dancing. Itachi didn't even see why the grown-ups encouraged him! His baby brother was still a baby. Itachi was much more interesting and clever and--

TWITCH.

And starting to develop a full-body twitch which had started at an eye then infected all of him.

But did anyone care? NO. They were all too busy clustering around the little baby who was trying to imitate the singing, dancing toy that some well-meaning relative had brought him.

Stabbing a pen through his homework angrily, Itachi decided that his entire clan would have to go.

And Sasuke could live on and see how it felt to be ignored!

Seto/Mokie, AU, darkish. Should warn you of that. XD

[fickle-goddess.livejournal.com]

"Only a little longer, Mokuba." Seto soothed his younger brother, tucking a strand of sweaty hair under the surgical cap again. No matter how well he gathered it back, some of it always escaped.

Mokuba's eyes closed for a second, and his breathing was labored when he opened them again, "Yes, nii-sama."

Seto didn't bother asking how Mokuba was but instead returned to work, ripping out veins and replacing them with wires. Skeletal struts of steel went where the bones used to be, and the skin that covered the circuity-ridden flesh was synthetic, fire and waterproof both.

The lights pulsed sickly green and red below Mokuba's new skin, and the boy strapped to the table looked like he was a carrier of the new (eletronic) plague.

Seto didn't care about that.

Mokuba wasn't human any longer. He was perfect. He was invincible.

He could never leave Seto (Seto could never fail him).

[vivalanaomi.livejournal.com]

Have recently visited a drug store and noticed that (shock!) Betty and Veronica seem to be jealous over Archie!

...He's not going to get better, girls. Give it up.

So, in honor of our shared nostalgia, allow me to suggest:

Archie comics ("If tired I'm tired of telling you / I'm never tired I'm always better than you")

YAY! And yes. Archie sucks.

[fickle-goddess.livejournal.com]

"Ronnie, I don't know how--"

"Betty Cooper, where you get the nerve--"

"Listen, you spoilt rich--"

"Little Miss All-American--"

They're fighting over Archie again.

It's what they spend most of their time doing. When they're not fighting, they're best friends (and even when they're fighting, they're still best friends). If they weren't, they wouldn't be able to zero in on what hurts each other.

"If you had half as many brain cells as you had dollars, Veronica--"

"You think Archie likes you for your brains, dearie? You--"

"Money, looks and what else do you have Ronnie? Oh, that's right, NOTHING."

"Why, you little--"

SPLASH.

And now they're in the pool. Pulling each other's hair. Fighting to reach the side of the pool first. Tugging on each other's legs and dragging the other back, coughing up mouthfuls of water and choking.

"You stop that, Betty Cooper, this is MY pool!"

"Well, that's my leg you've got, you selfish--"

"OW! How DARE you kick me!"

"How dare you push me in?!"

They're back to arguing now. And laughing. Veronica pushes Betty's bikini strap onto her shoulder again, and her fingers linger just a little too long. Betty thanks her without thinking, and kisses Veronica on the cheek, lips sticky with chlorine and sunblock. The sun's behind Betty, and Veronica's dazzled.

Time to make my entrance.

"Girls! You are blessed for Reggie Mantle has decided to grace you with his presence today!"

They don't look appropriately grateful but they never do when I break up their 'them' moments. But if I hadn't, they'd have just gone back to arguing over Archie again, and I'm sick of seeing them do that when they'd look so much better together.

[princessjessia.livejournal.com]

I'm so addicted to seeing you write Stephen/Sarah, so there's my pairing. xDDD As for the lyric? "The light changes when you're in the room."

*goes to post this meme*

[fickle-goddess.livejournal.com]

Lately, Stephen's been having looking at Sarah directly. Her black school robes, so practical and plain, turn to glittering red strapless dresses as he watches. What little light there is, is caught within the tiny sequins that wink at him, teasing him.

Stephen blinks, and they're gone, and Sarah is simply Sarah again, beautiful and his.

But the longer he stares at her, the brighter the ghosts of the sequins shine.

*reposts for typo*

[fickle-goddess.livejournal.com]

Lately, Stephen's been having to look at Sarah directly. Her black school robes, so practical and plain, turn to glittering red strapless dresses as he watches. What little light there is, is caught within the tiny sequins that wink at him, teasing him.

Stephen blinks, and they're gone, and Sarah is simply Sarah again, beautiful and his.

But the longer he stares at her, the brighter the ghosts of the sequins shine.

[shantih.livejournal.com]

Your mission, should you choose to accept it:

Sirius Black/ Homsar.

"I never did believe in the ways of magic, / But I'm beginning to wonder why." -- Fleetwood Mac, You Make Loving Fun (http://www.lyricsdir.com/fleetwood-mac-you-make-loving-fun-lyrics.html)

I am going to the special hell.

[fickle-goddess.livejournal.com]

Sirius is strangely fascinated by Homsar's hat. And Homsar's mode of speech. And Homsar's softness.

It's something like what a mother should be. Soft. And incomprehensible.

Mrs. Black was sadly all too comprehensible. Idiotic, ranting and a prejudiced bitch, but comprehensible.

Sirius likes the fact that he's not completely sure what Homsar's saying. It lets him pretend that Homsar's saying what Sirius wants to hear, and that varies from day to day.

So he chases Homsar's hat around the room once he's lost at Candy Mountain, listens to the creature's tone instead of his words and once he catches the hat, pats it until Homsar's speech becomes even more garbled than usual.

[shinsengumi]

*dances!* If I could've found someone better to write this, shoot me.

Tohma x. Ryuichi// "Don't you wonder, if I love her? Don't you ever, think I care?" -- Lovecore, Boy Hits Car

And. If I can have another? Don't do it if it doesn't strike. ♥

Yuugiou// "Have you ever been close to tragedy, or been close to folks who have? Have you ever felt a pain so powerful, so heavy you collapse?" -- The Impression That I Get The Mighty Mighty Bosstones (from Digimon!)

*grins and hugs you!*

[fickle-goddess.livejournal.com]

These days, Tohma sees more of Ryuuchi than Mika. More of Noriko than Mika too, but that's not the point. Noriko's not the one who laughs with the fearless glee that most people leave behind with their childhoods; Noriko's not the one who goes sharp-eyed and narrow-lipped, blazing intensity and star-fire shining with every clear note from the mouth that Tohma remembers having kissed too many times to count.

Ryuuchi doesn't see anything when he's singing. He only sees the music, a rainbow-oilslick-spill that hovers in front of him and wraps around him. It's gold down his throat, and it's magic under his skin, and it wraps around him like a lover and mother both.

It's more than he could ever need, and everything he's always craved.

Tohma's never seen so much of Ryuuchi; Ryuuchi's never seen so little of Tohma.

*does both 'cause she loves you*

[fickle-goddess.livejournal.com]

Mazaki used to be one of my best students. A little top-heavy for a ballerina, breasts too big for fashion and only good for getting leering looks from the men that sometimes came to watch the lessons, but an excellent dancer overall. Long legs. Clean form. Dedication. Poise. Grace.

And most of all, dedication.

Then Mazaki took off for a few months, a few months that stretched into nearly two years. Prime dancing time. Prime training time. She was all over the news and magazines, the girl who stood at the right hand of the famous duellist, Yugi Motou. I dismissed her as just another girl who gave up her dreams for a boy and forgot about her, got on with training my new cadre for the corpse ballet.

Then she came back.

Walked right into the studio, bold as you please, and joined the other girls for a warm-up. I couldn't be having with that, of course, so I called her to the middle of the floor and put her through her paces, made her do every move she knew, hold every position I'd ever taught her.

She couldn't do it, of course. Been away too long.

She collapsed in the middle of a tour jete and fell to the floor, hands over her face and legs splayed outwards.

And then she wept. She wept for a long, long time.

I never saw her again after she left the studio. Pity. She could have been great.

[witchwillow.livejournal.com]

Because it will likely never come to pass.

Stephen/Menolly: Hey I'll leave the young thing alone, But ain't no sunshine when she's gone



And just cause:

James/Sirius: Talk me down, safe and sound, too strung up to sleep.
Wear me out, scream and shout, swear my time's never cheap

I know very little of Menolly's canon, but here's my best shot.

[fickle-goddess.livejournal.com]

She's young. 16. Too young.

River, at least, was nineteen. So was is Sarah (Stephen has to remind himself that Sarah is not just dead just because she is not with him, death is not the only thing that can part lovers).

Menolly's only 16. Three years making all the difference between her, River and Sarah.

Three years and hair as red as the flames of a fireplace in a castle that Stephen never visits. Three years and a love for reptiles that Stephen sees as a mirror of his own love for animals.

Three years -- 156 weeks -- 1095 days -- 26, 280 hours -- 1, 576, 800 minutes -- 93, 608, 000 seconds.

70 heartbeats per second. Just over one beat per minute.

122, 976, 000 heartbeats.

One hundred twenty two million, nine hundred and seventy six thousand heartbeats separate them.

Stephen sits in the dark of the Potions lab and listens to his own heart beating.

[fickle-goddess.livejournal.com]

Sirius is pacing again. James is in his bed, curtains drawn, but not asleep. His bed, not Sirius', though there are nights when the other meaning of that sentence would apply as well.

James is not asleep.

Obviously, neither is Sirius.

James is quiet.

Sirius isn't.

Sirius is keeping James awake, pacing and muttering and make sharp, jerky motions with his hands. His shadow falls over Moony’s empty bed (Snape’s hex was better than usual, Moony’s in the hospital wing) and Peter’s full one, but Peter doesn’t stir. He sleeps like a round little beetle, safe inside his shell of sheets, and doesn’t awaken even though Sirius needs him. Needs Peter, needs Moony, but needs James most of all.

Voice sleep-roughened, James pokes his head out of the curtains and gestures to Sirius, “You git, come here. You’re keeping me up.”

Sirius snorts. “Don’t blame me because you’re too busy wanking over that Evans chick to get any sleep, Prongs.”

A pillow flies out from behind the curtains and Sirius catches it before it hits his midsection. James lies back, "Bring me my pillow."

Sirius complies and when he comes to the bed, James catches his wrist, pulls him down and holds him close, strokes his hair and talks to Sirius. His voice is low, calm and quiet. Sirius falls asleep, tucked inside James' arms, and James kisses his forehead before he sleeps as well.

[xinda.livejournal.com]

Mind if I do this at a later time? And I like this one. I think I will do it when I get my computer back since being without 'em for over a month is driving me crazy and such.

Mmm. I'm brain dead at the moment. I'll come back to this one. I'm leaning towards Sakura/Sasuke, but I need to come back with a lyric ¬.¬

[fickle-goddess.livejournal.com]

You can do it whenever you want, same as the icon meme! *grins and pets you*

...EW. *hates that pairing* But. I will try to write it if you request it. Other people have requested pairings I dislike! So no worries about managing it, doll.

[nevita.livejournal.com]

Well. Since you insisted and Sailor Moon R is the best thing ever how about some Prince Sapphire/Black Lady (where the hell did I come up with that? D=).

Now, lyrics... lyrics... :D;

So what's to fear when everything is crystal clear
You realize that you should do the things you wanna do

... Oh, you have the Othello manga listed, too. *__* That's tempting as well, but I figure I'll only bug you for one now. And resist my psychoshipping craving. :P

O_o Interesting pairing. I personally thought that canon couple was an OTP though XD

[fickle-goddess.livejournal.com]

Prince Sapphire stood in front of the crystalline structure that his brother had pinned all his hopes on and waited. Diamond would come soon. Alone. Then Prince Sapphire could talk to him about his obsession with the Queen of Neo-Tokyo and --

Footsteps. Heels clicking against the floor. Not Diamond's.

Sapphire knew what his brother's footsteps sounded like. These weren't his.

He turned, and saw a girl -- no, a woman -- with pink hair and a dress that clung to her jealously, as if possessive of the curves it concealed.

"Wicked Lady." The greeting was stiff, but not impolite, and Sapphire accompanied it with a nod of acknowledgement.

"Prince Sapphire! Why, fancy seeing you here!" She laughed, a high, trilling sound, and pointed the umbrella at him. The point seemed about to touch under his chin; he stepped backwards instead.

"A surprise indeed." His words were more wary now, and the railing around the crystal pressed against his back.

"Oh, but such a pleasant one." The woman purred, and advanced a step forwards, an odd sort of hunger in her eyes. Sapphire knew that look; it was the light that burnt in Emerald's eyes whenever his brother was in sight. It was not an uncommon sight; he merely hadn't seen it aimed at him before.

He had the feeling he should be flattered.

Instead, he found himself thinking of Diamond. Diamond, and how he had never cared for Emerald. How Emerald had died for him, and how Wicked Lady was the spawn of the Neo-Queen Serenity who had his brother so enraptured.

If Diamond could not have the mother-- Sapphire let Wicked Lady kiss him, unresisting but unresponsive -- then his brother could not have the daughter.

Even as a boy, he would never so much as stretch his hand for a flower that Diamond wanted.

[fickle-goddess.livejournal.com]

You can make more than one request, if you like. XDDD *figures that's the least she owes you*

[ego-chan.livejournal.com]

I'm thinking very seriously about my lyric choice. You know the pairing. xD

[fickle-goddess.livejournal.com]

Oooooh! *waits eagerly* XDDD

[amarin-rose.livejournal.com]

Animorphs, Tobias/Rachel, 'Every time I try to fly, I fall without my wings.'

DC, Tim/Steph, 'If you could only see the way she loves me, then maybe you would understand.'

First request done! XD Sorry about the delay. AU -- imagine Tobias died instead of Rachel.

[fickle-goddess.livejournal.com]

"Hey." She's on top of a building. Alone. Or so she hopes. Thinks.

...She's pretty sure she's alone.

There's a strong wind. Tobias would grumble about fighting it to fly, if he were here. Maybe she could have held him close to her, stroked his feathers and talked him into being human for just a little snatch of time.

Maybe.

"I miss you." The wind steals her words and carries them away. Maybe it'll take them to someone who needs to hear it; maybe it'll blow over people who never knew Tobias.

She corrects herself, "We all do."

That doesn't make anything better.

"You--" Rachel stops, her words choked and punches the ground next to her. Her knuckles are skinned, and she sucks them without thinking, taking out of her mouth to try again, "You went down fighting. Like I always wanted to."

Her eyes are darker than the sky and she shifts forwards on the ledge, bare toes curling over the edge.

It's repetitive, but she says it anyway, tone softer than anyone could imagine it being, "I miss you."

Then she flings her arms open wide and leaps.