Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz) 🌺 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
azurelunatic) wrote2012-10-20 01:32 am
azurelunatic) wrote2012-10-20 01:32 am
Entry tags:
A Flock of Ducklings (1/?) (braindump)
Author: azurelunatic
Title: A Flock of Ducklings
Fandom: neopopslash-RPF/fairy tales/TSN
What the Actual Fuck: I know, right?
Once upon a time there was a boyband. Never you mind which boyband -- either you know which already, or one just enough like them as to make no difference. Each one was prettier than the last, all with arms and legs so long they didn't know quite what to do with them, and hair that bore out several regrettable experiments.
Their music was sweet, harmless, formulaic, banal, and eminently hummable. They had made it big, of course, propelled by autotune and a crack publicity team. They had guards to take them from one place to another: partly because they were careless and might not have got where they were going if it had been up to them, and partly to protect them from the screaming throngs of girls that followed them everywhere. Almost any girl you could name from eleven to twenty-one had heard them at least once, and half were in love with them.
They broke hearts with a careless smile. And even though they knew they should not, sometimes one would smile at a girl just to watch her face light up with hope that she might be the one picked from the crowd: perhaps this time he would beckon, and she would come -- and then crumple as he turned away to join the rest of them, laughing to each other with a cruelty all the sharper for its innocence.
One day the prettiest winked at a girl with hair dark and shining as the wing of a raven, skin pale and juicy as a winter nectarine, lips red as cherries, curves laced tightly and buckled tighter with shining steel. He met her deep dark eyes and tried to look away as he always did, a wink and then gone forevermore. He let out a surprised, undignified noise when he found he could not.
"This is just a game to you," she yelled, indignant and somehow heard above the noise of ten thousand screaming fangirls. "You play with girls' hearts and break them, and you don't even know what you're doing."
The other boys noticed that the prettiest was not with them, and turned to see what was the matter. They, too, were then caught in her gaze.
"But we love all our fans!" the youngest one protested.
"You don't know the meaning of love!" she snapped. "Until you can learn to love another, and earn their love in return, may you wear a form better suited to your true nature!"
She clapped her hands. There was an explosion of hair product and fluff, and there on the stage, in the place where the boy band had been, were five very confused ducklings, peeping and crowding into each other under the glaring lights.
azurelunaticTitle: A Flock of Ducklings
Fandom: neopopslash-RPF/fairy tales/TSN
What the Actual Fuck: I know, right?
Once upon a time there was a boyband. Never you mind which boyband -- either you know which already, or one just enough like them as to make no difference. Each one was prettier than the last, all with arms and legs so long they didn't know quite what to do with them, and hair that bore out several regrettable experiments.
Their music was sweet, harmless, formulaic, banal, and eminently hummable. They had made it big, of course, propelled by autotune and a crack publicity team. They had guards to take them from one place to another: partly because they were careless and might not have got where they were going if it had been up to them, and partly to protect them from the screaming throngs of girls that followed them everywhere. Almost any girl you could name from eleven to twenty-one had heard them at least once, and half were in love with them.
They broke hearts with a careless smile. And even though they knew they should not, sometimes one would smile at a girl just to watch her face light up with hope that she might be the one picked from the crowd: perhaps this time he would beckon, and she would come -- and then crumple as he turned away to join the rest of them, laughing to each other with a cruelty all the sharper for its innocence.
One day the prettiest winked at a girl with hair dark and shining as the wing of a raven, skin pale and juicy as a winter nectarine, lips red as cherries, curves laced tightly and buckled tighter with shining steel. He met her deep dark eyes and tried to look away as he always did, a wink and then gone forevermore. He let out a surprised, undignified noise when he found he could not.
"This is just a game to you," she yelled, indignant and somehow heard above the noise of ten thousand screaming fangirls. "You play with girls' hearts and break them, and you don't even know what you're doing."
The other boys noticed that the prettiest was not with them, and turned to see what was the matter. They, too, were then caught in her gaze.
"But we love all our fans!" the youngest one protested.
"You don't know the meaning of love!" she snapped. "Until you can learn to love another, and earn their love in return, may you wear a form better suited to your true nature!"
She clapped her hands. There was an explosion of hair product and fluff, and there on the stage, in the place where the boy band had been, were five very confused ducklings, peeping and crowding into each other under the glaring lights.
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Ordinarily they might have become a Beast. But -- ducklings. :D
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