Your mission, should you choose to accept it: first line drabbles.

[icarus]

Gacked from jedi_penguin. Because I am too pressed for time to do any serious writing (yet in dire need of entertainment, natch), I have discovered this handy meme:

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to write a drabble or ficlet with the same first line as one of my stories, and leave it in my comments here.

Any takers? *g*

Oooh, and I've found some new awkward sex stories for jedi_penguin. How could we have ever neglected Seeker to Seeker? Or Both Sides Now? I didn't tell her about Hagrid's Hut or Ante Up! either.

Shoot. Now I have to look up links, don't I? *feels lazy, that special kind of 2am lazy*

Comments

[cheshyre]

I can't believe I'm first. This one was tough, but once I saw the initial sentence, the idea wouldn't leave me alone. 100 words exactly:

Ron woke to a miserably loud clanging, and the sharp jab of what he blearily realised was the second or third kick in the leg.

He curled up to protect his vitals, and spat his defiance on Lucius' boots.

"Just because you associate with animals, is no reason to act like one."

With effort, Ron resisted the urge to growl.

"Come now," Lucius coaxed. "We're both purebloods. Be reasonable and I can make matters much more pleasurable."

Ron scoffed. "What could you possibly offer that's worth it!"

With a knowing chuckle, Lucius unbuckled his belt. "I thought you'd never ask."

I was actually thinking about "Beg Me For It" last night before bed. Have you ever revealed what became of Crabbe and Goyle during or after the war?

[icarusancalion.livejournal.com]

Wow, that's really cool. The quick left turn the mind takes reading this as it suddenly heads in a different direction.

I love this line: "Just because you associate with animals, is no reason to act like one." Ooo. So Lucius.

The fate of Crabbe and Goyle is supposed to come out during the *kick* sex scene *kick* that refuses *kick* to work. I tried working on it Friday, and I got a little further along, but it... it's not there yet. *kick*

Icarus

[cheshyre]

Whoops. Didn't mean to dredge up unhappy thoughts there. Although them coming out in Ron & Draco's sex scene does not sound terribly pleasant.

BTW, who is compiling the awkward sex list and where can I find it. The sex scene I'm currently gnashing my teeth over will probably qualify. Maybe reading one of them will help me break through my block...

[icarusancalion.livejournal.com]

Oh, not unhappy thoughts, really. I have another story that seems to ticking right along.

I'm not sure if jedi_penguin is still compiling that list, but part of it can be found here (http://www.livejournal.com/users/jedi_penguin/71095.html).

Icarus

Another hundred words

[cheshyre]

Boy, I'm in a dark mood today:

Percy's eyes hurt and his throat was hoarse from sobbing. His wrists felt like raw meat, and he didn't even want to think about the condition of his back.

Percy tried to catch his breath and still his racing thoughts before the next assault, but it was too late. Bellatrix Lestrange easily flipped him over, a scream ripping from his throat as the bloody mess that had been his back touched the sheets.

His chest heaved, each breath an agony made worse when the floating candles all tilted, cascading hot wax over his abused body.

Bella loved her Lord's rewards.

Of course, my first reaction with that opening line was for something along the lines of your Safeword or Leap of faith from the Percy ficathon. Hopefully, this is different enough.

And I'm still surprised nobody else has taken the plunge yet.

Re: Another hundred words

[icarusancalion.livejournal.com]

Oh, it's way different.

I don't think people are reading my journal much right now. I'm not posting stories, and it's mostly been diatribes about how busy I am. I'm actually surprised anyone responded, let alone responded with two drabbles. Thank you.

Icarus

Re: Another hundred words

[cheshyre]

Maybe it's just the weekend and things will pick up on Monday.

I've just started toying with "The Ministry was nearly empty at this hour," but I'm still not sure who the pairing might be that would be sneaking about there for a liason. And I wonder whether 100 words is enough room to fit in the Wizengamot's chained chair...

Writing stories with a predefined opening line is an interesting exercise and very different from other drabbles, having to fit plot and character to the line rather than the other way around. Difficult, but I kinda like it. [And it gives me an excuse to waste the afternoon reading fanfic -- oh what a trial :) ]

[mad_maudlin]

I still read your journal, Ick! I still love you! ::glomps::

Oh, and, er...a drabble. I suck at this.

Lights flashed in a freeze-frame as loud music pounded and made the tumblers buzz on the bar. The most obvious man in the world came through the crowd. Ten feet. Five feet. One—
"How
much
did
you
drink?"
"I'm not drunk, Weasley," Draco shouted. "That's gauche."
"What—?"
"Potions. Pills." Walls spun.
Scowl. "I'mtakingyouhome."
"Nooo no no…" He lurched forward, found no footing, fell forward. Trecherous floor! "Not unless you mean it."
It was dark with his eyes shut, warm against Ron's chest. Time settled down.
Barely audible: "What makes you think I don't?"
Oh. Well. "By all mean, then."

[icarusancalion.livejournal.com]

Oh, I don't feel unloved. *laughs* It's just a function of not being particularly entertaining. What can you say when someone says they're really, really, really, really, really, really busy? Um. Congratulations? Gosh, I'm sorry? It'll get better soon? *throws up hands*

I love how you wrote this from Draco's very higher than a kite perspective.

"How
much
did
you
drink?"

I can see the world swimming before his eyes.

Icarus

[mad_maudlin]

Eh. I don't believe in friending people just for the fanfic. I find your school rants occasionally amusing and always uncomfortably accurate. ::cough cough:: But, you know, semesters end. Look on the bright side, you're still breathing!

Hee, yes, writing from the POV of someone with altered perceptions is extremely entertaining, and a great challange as well. I've actually been plauged with an idea involving Percy, Lucius, and a synthesthetic Ron, but I haven't written it because frankly it's squicky as hell. My NaNoWriMo this year is going to involve a character being semiposessed by another character, and I'm looking forward to it quite a bit.

[bsafemydeers.livejournal.com]

It was officially after curfew in the Gryffindor bedroom. Footsteps in the hallway, likely McGonagall's, had caused Neville to roll over and glance about for the clock. Three minutes after curfew, but not all Gryffindor boys were in bed.

Until the age of five, Neville had been a heavy enough sleeper that this wouldn't have mattered. And then he had started to worry, what if he was a Squib, what if there was a house elf rebellion, what if the giant scribbled monsters he'd been making earlier in the day came to life and swallowed him up?

At Hogwarts it was no better. There were tests and essays and Snapes and a Dark Lord or two, and every year, Neville had to work harder and harder to go to sleep.

Horribly queer as he thought it, he usually watched the other boys sleep to, well, inspire himself. Harry during first and second year, of course, because he was Harry Potter and Neville was not. But then that stopped working, and Ron was prone to muttering things that made Neville giggle and Seamus was... too straight, Neville would later name it. He was nice enough to look at in the daytime, all fair and Irish, but at night, Neville preferred to gaze at Dean. Dean, with chocolate skin and mocha eyelashes, and whom Neville suspected would really taste like those things if he was, well, tasted.

But really, Neville just liked to look at Dean at night, and watch the rise and fall of his chest and the elegant lay of his fingers on the bedsheets. And on these nights, more and more frequent, when Dean was not there, Neville could only find the best vantage point to see the clock from, and wait, ready to be pretend-asleep when Dean actually came in.

This night, the wait was longer than most, nearly two hours, and Dean came sneaking in, and Neville made one of his famous Big Monumental Mistakes. He allowed himself to be startled and let his wand clatter to the floor. Idiot!

Dean, halfway through his prowl to bed, looked over at him, and when his gleaming dark eyes met Neville's flushed cheeks, Neville gave up.

"I couldn't sleep," said Neville very quietly.

"Sorry I took extra long," answered Dean, changing into his pajamas in graceful, long movements.

Neville's head snapped up from where it was bowed. "What?"

To his surprise and mild terror, Dean was flopping down on his bed. "Stop giving me the fish mouth. You can see me better from here."

"You--"

"--know. And don't worry, you won't catch girl from me, just might get some charcoal or chalk on you." There were arms around Neville.

"Uh, you don't... need to..."

Dean silenced him effectively and quite personally. "Artists notice things. I notice you need some help sleeping. I wanted to kiss you." Apparently, artists followed no rules of logic or being linear, besides noticing things.

"Oh."

"I'll move before the others wake up."

Neville closed his eyes. "You don't have to. I mean, I'm not ashamed. If you're not. Right. If you're not, I'm not, right?"

He opened his eyes again, twisting his head to see Dean asleep.

"Right then." Neville smiled crookedly, nudging Dean's face with his and feeling the feathery touch of eyelashes. "Goodnight, Dean."

Neville went to sleep then.

-fin-

Heh, you don't know me really, and I'm not cool enough to provide a linked first line, but I thought I would leave a drabble. I was bored. The story is 'Guy Talk'. Hope I did you justice!

One more: "Privacy"

[cheshyre]

The Ministry was nearly empty at this hour.

"You're crazy," Neville said, uncertainly fingering his badge which read "Makeout session."

"Nobody will catch us. Besides, I know the perfect place!" Harry grabbed Neville's hand, their footfalls echoing down through the corridors.

"Dungeons?"

"It'll be worth it." Neville looked at Harry dubiously. "Trust me!"

Finally, they reached a great oak door. Harry turned the heavy iron door handle and opened it.

As promised, a chair covered in chains sat in the middle of the room: filled with an already preoccupied couple: redhead and blond.

"How do you feel about Stonehenge, instead?"

Originally, I was thinking they stumbled upon Ginny and Luna, who had also already been in on the raid in OotP, but as I was writing I realized this could also be Ron & Draco.

And now I find myself wondering whether wizarding kids have their own version of the Purity Test...

[icarusancalion.livejournal.com]

Of course I know you! From the Percyfest. *g*

Neville made one of his famous Big Monumental Mistakes *snerks*

Sorry about the brief response -- I'm in my 12-hour day part of the week.

Icarus