How it works:
1. Pick a character, pairing or fandom you like.
2. Put iTunes or equivalent media player on random.
3. For each song that plays, write something related to the theme you picked inspired by the song. You have only the time frame of the song: no planning beforehand: you start when it starts, and no lingering afterward; once the song is over, you stop writing. (No fair skipping songs either; you have to take what comes by chance!)
4. Do 10 of these, then post.
(several of these are aus that may or may not be well explained)
i. loki [ thor ] 250 miles - radio moscow
He's been walking the earth for years.
He went to Midgard with the best of them in the golden age, had men and women fall to their knees, hear them call him shape-changer and trickster and king of liars and thieves, but always in the hallowed tones of fear.
And now he walks the same earth, with nothing more to his name than stone carvings in a dead language, and Loki waits.
They say I start the end of the world, he thinks.
That much they got right.
ii. daenerys/arya [ game of thrones ] hummingbird - imaginary cities
The queen has never spoken of her past to her, but Arya has heard whispers among the men, and she knows the stories she was told as a child, impossible tales of the Targaryens' incest and madness and utter, shameful defeat at the hands of her father and others with him.
It's somehow impossible to reconcile with the pale and magnetic, chaotic woman she sees in front of her. She was barely older than Sansa when she was wed to Khal Drogo, Arya thinks. I am far past that age now.
But she has her Khaleesi to serve now, and that is all she needs.
iii. erik/charles [ x-men first class ] the villain - austra
Charles has never been afraid of Erik, truly, until now.
The helmet is off, but Charles can't penetrate his mind - that much has him frightened. Erik's thoughts are somehow locked off.
(Oh, old friend, have you shut your emotions away that deep, for this?)
Charles' wrists are pinned to the headboard, twined in the flower design of the cheap brass, and he told Erik he wanted this, and he still does, but he is afraid.
But when Erik snags their hipbones together like that, (searching for something underneath the skin, as if through enough furious kinetic energy together they can attain world peace-) Charles can almost forget his fear.
(-or nuclear annihilation of the human race. Each to his own dream.)
iv. sam/dean [ supernatural ] kissy kissy - the kills
Their journey is a road movie, an all-American classic with a crack down the videotape spine.
Throughout all the junky diners and seat-of-their-pants-escapes and long drives down dusty highways, there has been something growing, festering, something that the MPAA would never let on big screens. A little too much of the seedy underbelly in their Kerouac, thank you very much.
But they've just wasted a chupacabra outside of Dallas and they're both still running on the adrenaline highs and when Dean grabs Sam's neck and pulls him into a blistering kiss with a shotgun still in the other hand, Sam thinks that he was never big on the movies anyway.
v. sansa/petyr [ game of thrones ] made by maid - laura marling
She never knows quite what to make of him, this man dancing in and out of her life.
Sansa stares out of his kitchen window on Saturday morning, with a cup of cheap coffee warming the palms of her hands.
She almost doesn't notice him enter the doorway.
"Enjoying the view?" He's reclined against the doorframe, the picture of feline elegance and charm.
Her mind is screaming at her that this is creepy and weird and illegal and she needs to get out of here.
But instead, she smiles, "Yes. quite."
vi. nico/bianca [ pjotas ] all i see - lydia
This is the one place where he is safe.
The comforter is tangled about their legs, and there are goosebumps prickling on the bit of his leg exposed to the morning air. Nico is tired, and it's one of those deceptively easy mornings where he almost forgets to be frightened, forgets that they're hunted. Forgets that they're running.
She's awake next to him, and she lightly swirls spirals onto his shoulder blade with a fingertip.
He will allow himself this, and he will wait a few more minutes in this bed before he has to face the world again.
vii. mark/eduardo [ the social network ] when i grow up - fever ray
Eduardo feels jealous (of everything, these days, of people whose shares weren't diluted, of people who never met Mark Zuckerberg, of a fucking website for being both the pin and the grenade-) of Mark.
And this isn't about the money, like people assume it is; no, Eduardo envies Mark because Mark has a dream, something that he's devoted his life to that changes things. It gives him a purpose.
More than anything else, Eduardo would give anything just to feel like he was a part of something again.
viii. cersei lannister [ game of thrones ] wedding day - veronica falls
She is gleaming in the looking-glass, with none of the coldness in her eyes that will come later. (Or perhaps just less of it.)
She is alone, about to enter the carriage that will take her to the Great Sept of Baelor, where she will set her eyes on her intended in all her finery.
I will be his queen, she thinks, and the nations will tremble at the sound of my name.
That part of the dream came true, at least.
ix. jon/robb [ game of thrones ] brittle, crushed, and torn - marissa nadler
Jon finds Winterfell in ashes.
It is all that is left of the country that is in his blood, as much a part of him as his bastard name, ground into him since the start.
The bones of his brother, his friend, his king (or was he?) lie in powder, scattered across the wind, no doubt.
Jon Snow looks at the remains of his homeland, and wonders who is winning this war.
(Winter, his heart replies, and he knows it to be true.)
x. sherlock/john [ sherlock ] putting the dog to sleep - the antlers
They are in the same warehouse, on the same army surplus cots as before, but there is a chill to the room that was not previously there.
John's skin is still crawling with the memory of his sister's face, saggy and grey, and Sherlock's back is turned, unreadable. Shoulders stormier than ever before.
And right now, John thinks that he can be forgiven some desire for warmth, some creature comfort from the only other soul he's with here, the person he trusts absolutely even though he really, really shouldn't.
But this is Sherlock, icy, frigid, mad and brilliant sherlock, and John is more drawn to him than a moth to a flame, but he doesn't want to ruin the silent understanding they've reached somehow.
(He already knows, I'm sure, saw it in your t-shirt or eyelashes or pinky finger, the uncharitable voice in his head tells him, and a consience like that is exactly why he still needs to learn to nut up or shut up.)