[APH] Music Writing Meme -- Part I
So breagadoir insisted I do this meme. So here are the first five fics because I have to get up early so I must sleep now. I also included links to listen to the songs I used :D
Meme
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.
Note: some of these, looking at them now, look suspiciously long. I a) type very fast, and b) some of these songs I'd already had little plot bunnies inspired by them, so I was able to write a lot fast. I swear I'm not cheating!
I. The Voice by Celtic Woman
Characters: England
Genre: General
Link to Song
He was a little thing, couldn’t have been older than eight or nine. The oaken doors before him were big and heavy, and his little hands could barely turn the brass handle, but he wandered into the vacated corridor. He’d been completely separated from his tour group, and was now wandering the Parliament building by himself.
“Hello?” he called down the hallway. All the doors were closed, and the only sounds were the groaning of the building as it settled into its old foundation.
A man appeared at the other end of the hall. His green eyes perked as he noticed the little dark-haired lad at the end of the hall. The boy stiffened as the man strode over and squatted beside him.
“Now, what are you doing here?” the older man asked softly. The little boy gulped.
“I-I got lost, sir-“
“Don’t fret, lad,” the man said, stroking the boy’s head. “You do not have to be afraid of me.” The boy nodded slowly.
“Are you someone important?”
“Kind of,” the man replied, and his lips curled into a smile. “What is your name?”
“A-Arthur,” the boy stammered. The blonde man’s large eyebrows rose.
“Why, that’s my name, too, my boy,” the blonde (Arthur?) replied. His voice was soothing and calm, and his accent was strange-the boy couldn’t identify what part of England he was from by his accent. It was like a mix of all of them together.
“Come, let us find your mother, shall we?”
II. Hallelujah by Katherine Jenkins
Characters: Italy, Germany, GerIta
Genre: Angst
Link to Song
It was raining that morning. The wind made the windows sigh and the rain crept in at times, splattering on the windowsill. The glass was cracked.
He forced the door open. His good arm was still strong, and even though he hobbled he could move. His heart was pounding through his ribcage, mouth dry, lips cracked and swollen.
“G-Germany?” his voice was weak. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be here, but he had to find out if the rumors were true. Once they realized he had left, they would come looking for him.
He shuffled through the bedraggled house. Dust coated the room like a fine powder.
“Germany?”
No life breathed in the house. His own breath caught up in his throat, and it burned.
“Germany?”
The rooms didn’t answer back.
“...Ludwig?”
The tears started rolling down, staining his cheeks white as pale skin shone from underneath the grime of war. This was supposed to be a time of peace. Of joy. The war was over now.
But all he had been feeling was pain.
He moved throughout the house, energy bubbling from within him, his heart pounding, he had to see him, he couldn’t take not knowing-
“Ludwig? Ludwig? Are you here? Please answer me!” He rubbed his hands together. The skin was dry and chafed as he moved. His left leg was beginning to ache.
He tumbled into the back bedroom, and found him. Arms strewn about the bed, face away from the door, resting in a pillow. He was bathed in blood.
It felt like years until he understood time again. Romano had finally located him, curled up, his face pressed to Germany’s cold back, clutching the fabric as if it would bring Germany life once more.
III. All These Things That I've Done by The Killers
Characters: Finland, mentioned Sweden
Genre: General/angst
Link to Song
He didn’t belong here. On the battlefield. It wasn’t his place. A fighter, him? He wasn’t meant to fight.
He shivered. War was cold, even in the heat of summer days.
He had snuck into the force, even though his boss had told him not to. How could he not be on the front lines with his men? His men?
But he didn’t belong here. He gripped the gun with foolish naïveté and prayed for salvation.
I got soul but I’m not a soldier.
“Everyone ready?”
I got soul but I’m not a soldier.
“Aim...”
I got soul but I’m not a soldier.
“Aaaand... fiiiiiiiiire!”
Smoke billowed in his eyes and thunder rang into his ears. The sounds of hundreds of guns firing at once took him by surprise, even though he had been prepared for it. He shivered and pulled the gun back, preparing to reload, and he thought of the one he’d left behind.
Sweden is going to be so mad, Finland thought solemnly as he cocked the gun and placed it back to where it belonged, on the top of the trench. What were they doing? Practicing? Fighting? He had no idea. His world was only yelling and guns and blood. And that wasn’t the world he was prepared for.
I got soul... but I’m not a soldier.
IV. I'm Yours by Jason Mraz
Characters: America, England, Japan, Greece, Giripan-centric
Genre: Fluffy fluff
Link to Song (I was specifically listening to this version)
When Alfred pulled out his guitar; that was when everyone melted towards him and cooed for his singing and playing. He would quickly tune, and give that devilish smile to the eager students around him, and he would strum the strings and hum a few chords, and then he would sing. Arthur would hang on every word, starry-eyed and hopelessly in love, but tonight, Alfred wasn’t doing it for Arthur, or any of his other friends.
The beach was nearly empty, as it was nearing midnight. Midnight marked a very important date for a very important friend. A friend whom he had met at the Academy just a year ago.
This time, he sang a song that reminded that friend of a relationship he had fallen into, and grown to love. When the song started, Kiku had been surprised to feel the tap on his shoulder, and turned, and saw Heracles standing behind him, hand extended, and then they were dancing, bare feet sliding through the white sand, and Alfred was singing, and the movements were fluid and Heracles was whispering the lyrics in his ear. It didn’t matter that everyone was there, the darkness created a blanket as Heracles pulled Kiku’s head to his chest.
Suddenly, as Alfred held out a long chord and began playing what seemed to be an improvised solo, Heracles dipped Kiku dramatically and stopped right before his lips, his eyes narrowed, his lips so close to Kiku’s, Kiku could feel the tension.
Heracles then closed the distance as Alfred finished the song, and their friends cheered, for it marked one year of Kiku’s first relationship and one year of the rest of Heracles’s life.
V. BOOM by P.O.D.
Characters: Canada
Genre: drama/angst (kinda)
Link to Song
Blood pumped in his ears. That was all he could hear.
The ice was his canvas and his skates were the paintbrush. He felt his calves stiffen as he crouched low over his stick; eyes raised a centimeter to stare his opponent down as he waited for the puck to drop.
It had barely hit the ice when he swung as hard as he could. He hit the opponent’s blade, leg pad, and side, but he didn’t care, for his enemy was just an enemy, a piece of meat, and his goal was before him, and he took the puck and became near parallel to the ice as he rounded the corner and slapped the puck to his teammate.
Just as his teammate (Gilbert) was recovering the puck, he saw someone headed for him, a bastard in that green uniform with the white trim, and Matthew lowered his shoulders and slid on his skates and rammed him into the sideboards-hard. The other player buckled under the force, but Matthew left him as cheers poured in from above him. He could hear the band playing, the voices tearing through his helmet, and he gave chase to another player, someone else useless, but he knew better not to use his stick or he’d get put in the box for the third time tonight-
“Williams!” a voice panted and the puck was his again. He turned sharply, ice and snow skittering around the blades and he pushed forward. He may not be as strong as Alfred, or as smart as Kiku, or as attractive as Francis. He may not have Yao’s technical skill or Ivan’s wit. He may not be as cute as Feliciano or as logical as Ludwig.
But on the ice, he was the king. He was a beast. He’d made men bleed. He’d forced them into ERs. He’d make them yell and when they tried to fight back he’d punch them square in the jaw, his eyes blazing. He was a champion here. Everyone knew his name. The more he fought, and punched, the more blood he spilled, the more people knew him and loved him. He was carrying this team up through the regular season, then through post season, through semi finals and quarter finals and qualifying rounds. He’d gone from skilled rookie to starter to assistant captain to blood-thirsty monster. And he liked it that way.
I'm gonna do the rest later... but for now I gotta prepare to fly tomorrow for a trip :) Btw the last song is one of the warm-up songs for my school's hockey team, which is why I immediately thought HOCKEY. I am a huge hockey fan (it's my uni's biggest sport) so. Please ignore me.
Meme
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.
Note: some of these, looking at them now, look suspiciously long. I a) type very fast, and b) some of these songs I'd already had little plot bunnies inspired by them, so I was able to write a lot fast. I swear I'm not cheating!
I. The Voice by Celtic Woman
Characters: England
Genre: General
Link to Song
He was a little thing, couldn’t have been older than eight or nine. The oaken doors before him were big and heavy, and his little hands could barely turn the brass handle, but he wandered into the vacated corridor. He’d been completely separated from his tour group, and was now wandering the Parliament building by himself.
“Hello?” he called down the hallway. All the doors were closed, and the only sounds were the groaning of the building as it settled into its old foundation.
A man appeared at the other end of the hall. His green eyes perked as he noticed the little dark-haired lad at the end of the hall. The boy stiffened as the man strode over and squatted beside him.
“Now, what are you doing here?” the older man asked softly. The little boy gulped.
“I-I got lost, sir-“
“Don’t fret, lad,” the man said, stroking the boy’s head. “You do not have to be afraid of me.” The boy nodded slowly.
“Are you someone important?”
“Kind of,” the man replied, and his lips curled into a smile. “What is your name?”
“A-Arthur,” the boy stammered. The blonde man’s large eyebrows rose.
“Why, that’s my name, too, my boy,” the blonde (Arthur?) replied. His voice was soothing and calm, and his accent was strange-the boy couldn’t identify what part of England he was from by his accent. It was like a mix of all of them together.
“Come, let us find your mother, shall we?”
II. Hallelujah by Katherine Jenkins
Characters: Italy, Germany, GerIta
Genre: Angst
Link to Song
It was raining that morning. The wind made the windows sigh and the rain crept in at times, splattering on the windowsill. The glass was cracked.
He forced the door open. His good arm was still strong, and even though he hobbled he could move. His heart was pounding through his ribcage, mouth dry, lips cracked and swollen.
“G-Germany?” his voice was weak. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be here, but he had to find out if the rumors were true. Once they realized he had left, they would come looking for him.
He shuffled through the bedraggled house. Dust coated the room like a fine powder.
“Germany?”
No life breathed in the house. His own breath caught up in his throat, and it burned.
“Germany?”
The rooms didn’t answer back.
“...Ludwig?”
The tears started rolling down, staining his cheeks white as pale skin shone from underneath the grime of war. This was supposed to be a time of peace. Of joy. The war was over now.
But all he had been feeling was pain.
He moved throughout the house, energy bubbling from within him, his heart pounding, he had to see him, he couldn’t take not knowing-
“Ludwig? Ludwig? Are you here? Please answer me!” He rubbed his hands together. The skin was dry and chafed as he moved. His left leg was beginning to ache.
He tumbled into the back bedroom, and found him. Arms strewn about the bed, face away from the door, resting in a pillow. He was bathed in blood.
It felt like years until he understood time again. Romano had finally located him, curled up, his face pressed to Germany’s cold back, clutching the fabric as if it would bring Germany life once more.
III. All These Things That I've Done by The Killers
Characters: Finland, mentioned Sweden
Genre: General/angst
Link to Song
He didn’t belong here. On the battlefield. It wasn’t his place. A fighter, him? He wasn’t meant to fight.
He shivered. War was cold, even in the heat of summer days.
He had snuck into the force, even though his boss had told him not to. How could he not be on the front lines with his men? His men?
But he didn’t belong here. He gripped the gun with foolish naïveté and prayed for salvation.
I got soul but I’m not a soldier.
“Everyone ready?”
I got soul but I’m not a soldier.
“Aim...”
I got soul but I’m not a soldier.
“Aaaand... fiiiiiiiiire!”
Smoke billowed in his eyes and thunder rang into his ears. The sounds of hundreds of guns firing at once took him by surprise, even though he had been prepared for it. He shivered and pulled the gun back, preparing to reload, and he thought of the one he’d left behind.
Sweden is going to be so mad, Finland thought solemnly as he cocked the gun and placed it back to where it belonged, on the top of the trench. What were they doing? Practicing? Fighting? He had no idea. His world was only yelling and guns and blood. And that wasn’t the world he was prepared for.
I got soul... but I’m not a soldier.
IV. I'm Yours by Jason Mraz
Characters: America, England, Japan, Greece, Giripan-centric
Genre: Fluffy fluff
Link to Song (I was specifically listening to this version)
When Alfred pulled out his guitar; that was when everyone melted towards him and cooed for his singing and playing. He would quickly tune, and give that devilish smile to the eager students around him, and he would strum the strings and hum a few chords, and then he would sing. Arthur would hang on every word, starry-eyed and hopelessly in love, but tonight, Alfred wasn’t doing it for Arthur, or any of his other friends.
The beach was nearly empty, as it was nearing midnight. Midnight marked a very important date for a very important friend. A friend whom he had met at the Academy just a year ago.
This time, he sang a song that reminded that friend of a relationship he had fallen into, and grown to love. When the song started, Kiku had been surprised to feel the tap on his shoulder, and turned, and saw Heracles standing behind him, hand extended, and then they were dancing, bare feet sliding through the white sand, and Alfred was singing, and the movements were fluid and Heracles was whispering the lyrics in his ear. It didn’t matter that everyone was there, the darkness created a blanket as Heracles pulled Kiku’s head to his chest.
Suddenly, as Alfred held out a long chord and began playing what seemed to be an improvised solo, Heracles dipped Kiku dramatically and stopped right before his lips, his eyes narrowed, his lips so close to Kiku’s, Kiku could feel the tension.
Heracles then closed the distance as Alfred finished the song, and their friends cheered, for it marked one year of Kiku’s first relationship and one year of the rest of Heracles’s life.
V. BOOM by P.O.D.
Characters: Canada
Genre: drama/angst (kinda)
Link to Song
Blood pumped in his ears. That was all he could hear.
The ice was his canvas and his skates were the paintbrush. He felt his calves stiffen as he crouched low over his stick; eyes raised a centimeter to stare his opponent down as he waited for the puck to drop.
It had barely hit the ice when he swung as hard as he could. He hit the opponent’s blade, leg pad, and side, but he didn’t care, for his enemy was just an enemy, a piece of meat, and his goal was before him, and he took the puck and became near parallel to the ice as he rounded the corner and slapped the puck to his teammate.
Just as his teammate (Gilbert) was recovering the puck, he saw someone headed for him, a bastard in that green uniform with the white trim, and Matthew lowered his shoulders and slid on his skates and rammed him into the sideboards-hard. The other player buckled under the force, but Matthew left him as cheers poured in from above him. He could hear the band playing, the voices tearing through his helmet, and he gave chase to another player, someone else useless, but he knew better not to use his stick or he’d get put in the box for the third time tonight-
“Williams!” a voice panted and the puck was his again. He turned sharply, ice and snow skittering around the blades and he pushed forward. He may not be as strong as Alfred, or as smart as Kiku, or as attractive as Francis. He may not have Yao’s technical skill or Ivan’s wit. He may not be as cute as Feliciano or as logical as Ludwig.
But on the ice, he was the king. He was a beast. He’d made men bleed. He’d forced them into ERs. He’d make them yell and when they tried to fight back he’d punch them square in the jaw, his eyes blazing. He was a champion here. Everyone knew his name. The more he fought, and punched, the more blood he spilled, the more people knew him and loved him. He was carrying this team up through the regular season, then through post season, through semi finals and quarter finals and qualifying rounds. He’d gone from skilled rookie to starter to assistant captain to blood-thirsty monster. And he liked it that way.
I'm gonna do the rest later... but for now I gotta prepare to fly tomorrow for a trip :) Btw the last song is one of the warm-up songs for my school's hockey team, which is why I immediately thought HOCKEY. I am a huge hockey fan (it's my uni's biggest sport) so. Please ignore me.