Current mood:	cheerful
Current music:	"This is the Life," Weird Al Yankovic

Who would ever want to be king
Nabbed this from onashia, to potentially disasterous results...

1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.

2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.

3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards!

4. Do ten of these, then post them.

I have three Death Note fics (two are Matt and Mello, one is Misa-centric), four Angel Sanctuary (one is sort of Kurai/Setsunaish, one's sort of Setsuna/Sara, one's Katou/Kira, one's vaguely Kira/Alexiel... heh, oops), one The Long Walk (Jan/Garraty, only really more like McVries/Garraty, depending on your slash goggles), and two Simoun (one is Paraietta/Neviril, the other is Rodreamon and Floe gen). They're in the order I did them in so.. sakjdg sorry about that! They're also varying degrees of... not cohesive, but that's a given with only about 3-4 minutes to do each. It was so much fun!

"leave the bourbon on the shelf," the killers (angel sanctuary, katou/kira)
and i never liked your hair or those people that you lie with
And it’s really not like he’d broken up with him or anything stupid like that. Really not like he has a valid excuse to feel this much like crap just because Kira’s run off on him for the tenth time this year, chasing after some girl with nothing going for her but big breasts.

Really.

Katou sits around in Kira’s hideout, thinks about reorganizing the CDs or wrinkling the neat sheets or something, anything, but in the end he just goes to bed, half-hungover.
--

"love is a battlefield," pat benatar (simoun, paraietta/neviril)
i'm trapped by your love and i'm chained to your side
Paraietta didn’t know how much she’d needed Neviril until Neviril decided to pair with Aaeru.
She’d tried not to let it worry her. It made sense—perfect sense: Aaeru had that drive, that desire, in the same way Amuria had. It was natural, then.

(but)

Kaimu was trying to comfort her, in her way, all Para-sama, let me help you, Para-sama, but she’s not Neviril, that’s all.
--

"all the pretty faces," the killers (angel sanctuary, vague kira/alexiel)
i don't feel like fucking her no more
“There’s this thing,” Kira says, fooling around with his own hair between his fingers, a gesture that should seem almost effeminate but doesn’t, glancing at her, “called courtly love. Scholars say it only existed in literary theory, all that. But I think they’re wrong, I think it did.”

Sara blinks at him, this is coming out of nowhere, nowhere at all.

“Idealized romantic love, basically. The knight in corroded armor dies—not for the lady’s hand, but for the lady’s hankerchief. She’s married already, you see. But he loves her from afar, he fights for her from afar—and that’s supposed to be noble. Noble,” Kira snorts, and takes another drag. “What do you think, Sara-chan?”

Sara doesn’t answer.
--

"viva la vida," coldplay (simoun, rodoreamon and floe)
never an honest word
“Maybe it’d be better if you tried… sewing it back up with matching buttons,” Rodoreamon suggests, chewing on her lip. Floe shakes her head and sighs, loud and exaggerated.

“It’s useless. Limone’s gonna kill me.”

“Don’t say that! I’m sure she’d… um, appreciate that you tried to fix it…” Rodoreamon trails helplessly, but then Floe wails (and she hopes that’s an exaggeration, too, but she’s not sure).

“You think we could buy her a new one once we get off this ship? You have to help,” cajoling, insistent, and Rodoreamon can’t do anything but nod.
--

"either way," guster (death note, matt and mello)
don't let me see that other side of you
Matt plays his video games while Mello rants. It’s like Wammy’s House all over again, a change of scenery but not a change of characters, a cheap soap opera redubbing the lines from the old episodes, tacking them onto the new.

“We’re going to beat Near, you know,” and Mello even sounds exactly the same as the fourteen year old who left, that determined, authoritative voice. That voice that had intimidated everyone from Wammy’s House teachers to hardened Mafia members. That voice that had issued the deaths of God knew how many people in the pursuit of Kira. Mello’s a real Machiavelli type regardless of his only half-lapsed Catholic roots—maybe because of them.

“Yeah.” Matt reaches over and hits continue on his remote.
--

"1985," bowling for soup (death note, matt and mello)
bruce springsteen, madonna, way before nirvana
“You look like Billy Idol. Only with worse hair.”

“And you look like the cover for Gamers Weekly.”

“I consider that an improvement.” Matt tilts his head. “Actually, no. You look more like Madonna without boobs. Like, for that one vid she did way back in the eighties when she was all into rosaries instead of Kabbalah or whatever it was…”

“Screw you,” Mello says. “Not even a welcome back?”

“Welcome back, Madonna.”
--

"u & ur hand," pink (angel sanctuary, vague... well)
you know when it's over before it begins
Setsuna was getting really tired of this.

Bad enough that he could only get turned on by his sister. Worse that one, she was dead, two, she was dead, three, despite that he was still a hormonal sixteen-year-old, and four, the walls in their latest empty building (Katou’d dubbed it hell’s version of a Motel Six) were depressingly thin.

“I can hear you in there, Mudo.”
--

"dancing in the dark," bruce springsteen (the long walk, garraty and mcvries)
there's a joke here somewhere and it's on me
“Hey, Garraty, Garraty.”

Barkovitch again. Garraty tries to speed up but the sound continues.

“Garraty, Garraty.”

Not Barkovitch after all. Garraty slows slightly, embarrassed. It’s McVries.

“Gonna dance up that hill, Ray?” McVries is smiling, scar shining in the glow of the lamplight.

“Like Fred Astaire,” Garraty shoots back automatically. McVries laughs and pats his shoulder.

“Who’s your Ginger Rogers, then, huh? Can’t have Fred without Ginger. Bad show business.”

“Aw, McVries.”

“Who?”

“Jan,” he says. “When I get there.”
--

"people are strange," the doors (death note, misa)
no one remembers your name when you're strange
Misa understands insanity better than any model should.

Misa knows what it means, what it really means to have your face plastered on every fashion magazine in the country. What it entails is more than photoshoots and box-office returns, chipper interviews and chipping nail polish.

It’s a sell-off of the worst kind. She sells her name and sells her soul.
--

"new soul," yael naim (angel sanctuary, setsuna and kurai)
finding myself making every possible mistake
“This isn’t gonna be…” Setsuna searches for the right word, can’t find it, “tactless, is it?”

“How come you’re asking me?” Kurai blinks up at him. “I mean, it’s still really weird, you being in her body, but if you want to, uh, I don’t mind, it’s not like you’re… cutting her hair or anything…”

“That’s a good idea for later, actually!” Setsuna grins. “Be right back.”

Honestly, Kurai can’t help but think Alexiel—er, Setsuna, looks good in Calvin Klein jeans.