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noblealiceworksThis is why I'm always afraid to do memes, there is the lingering fear that no one will comment to request anything and as it is, I'm posting after only four requests (adding a few other drabbles I had lying around).
midland animal control, richard/kahlan, legend of the seeker
400 words, take the baby and run delayed response for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hjea’s prompt
“Take the baby and run.”
Kahlan’s arms rested on her hips, her mouth drawn into a stubborn line. “Richard, I’m not leaving you.”
“Someone has to do this, Kahlan. Trust me, please.”
“Richard, we can both do this. I don’t like leaving you alone.”
Richard met Kahlan’s gaze and wished that he looked a bit more like the Seeker of Truth in this moment to aid his argument. Instead, he was up to his hips in a putrid swamp with black flies swarming around his head like a twisted halo. “You need to pick up the moose and lead her to the camp, I’ll act as a distraction if we need it.”
“How is this puny creature going to get us inside?” Kahlan gestured to the baby moose, happily eating swamp grasses three feet from where they were.
“Well, actually, it’s the antlers on the mother that should do the trick.”
Kahlan sent Richard a quizzical look.
“Zedd and Cara are trapped inside the garrison and at this very second they could be being tortured!” Richard exclaimed quietly, trying not to disturb the baby moose that they had found and cornered.
“I actually think Cara would enjoy that.” Kahlan responded with a huff, hoping the young moose might finally notice their hushed squabble and leave.
“Nevertheless,” Richard said, “we need to act fast, for Zedd’s sake at least. You know that there’s no way the two of us can storm those high walls.”
“What happened to my plan of waiting for an officer to come out and confess him?”
“Kahlan, we waited in the bushes for five hours. While our friends sat alone in the dark! No, it’s time for drastic measures.”
“Why can’t we both carry the—“
“Please, we both know you’re better when it comes to calming wild animals.” He stated like it was a fact she should have already known.
“Then I should stay here to meet the mother!”
“No, the genius of this plan depends on the mother being scared and angry, looking for her stolen calf.”
Kahlan hardly thought the plan deserved the ‘genius’ label, but she really hated the smell of the swamp and her will to stay near it was wearing down.
“Will you please pick her up?” Richard looked at her with eyes that had no right to look as adorable as they did when the man they belonged to was waist-deep in swamp sludge.
“Okay, but if this doesn’t break down the garrison doors, I’m telling Cara all about your genius plan.
unfurled and exposed, richard/kahlan, legend of the seeker
400 words, after the wars forhjea
The fight is long and painful, the war has been going on longer than he ever expected. He’s bone-tired but more than being exhausted, he’s scared that the difficult choices he made, the ones that keep him up at night, have changed him.
If this is finally his time to reap the benefits of his labours, he wonders if Kahlan will recognize him as the man she loves. He, of course, has no choice but to worship her, not because he has been Confessed, but because he appreciates the fact that she has stood by his side throughout this long trial. That she has seen into the depths of his soul and hasn’t run in the opposite direction.
He feels like his bones are bleached white and fractured, bent out at strange angles to expose his beating heart, suddenly vulnerable without his ribcage as protection.
They have always brought out the best—and worst—in each other.
He feels as though she has slowly worked his joints until they twisted apart, unfurling like the blades of a fan and he has nothing left between her shining smile and the bloody mess that is his wholly encompassing love for her.
He hunches his shoulders when he stares at her across the bloody field, self-consciously curling his body around the ache that sits in his chest, cradling the break that he expects with this next interaction.
His whole future is on the line now as he walks slowly toward her, the Sword of Truth forgotten and dropped in the grass.
His voice is hoarse from yelling nothing but battle cries and he thinks he’s ready for a lifetime of whispered devotions into Kahlan’s ear.
“Kahlan, I...I’m damaged. I have evil inside of me, so much that sometimes I get scared. The only time I think I can handle it is when you’re near. I...will you...” He winced; sure that he’d ruined his chances. He should have practiced a speech that was this important, but with the all the planning and drawing up of plans, he’d never suspected that he’d survive. They had been outnumbered three-to-one.
He looked up, knowing that even if she rejected him now, he needed to soak in as much of her face now while he could.
His answer was sparkling in her eyes and in the turn of her lips. He saw just the hint of a smile before he felt Kahlan jump into his arms, her lips crushing against his own.
fingers of steel, richard/kahlan, legend of the seeker
500 words, knives forninamazing
After months tramping through thick forests, the four of them make their way to a village with an inn. It was the very picture of small-town D’Hara, complete with animal heads adorning the walls and a roaring fire warming the whole room.
“Finally, a real tavern.” Cara says as she looks around.
“And what qualifies a place as a real tavern?” Zedd asks.
“Three things; game, gambling and good beer.” Cara strode right up to the bar, apparently finished with the conversation.
“Well, I guess that’s my cue to see what’s to eat.” Zedd said before he left to sit down.
Richard was startled when Kahlan sidled up beside him, talking over his shoulder. “They have darts here.”
“My aim’s not that good.”
“I know, I was thinking we could practice your knife-throwing skills.”
Richard looked around, unsure about endangering the other patrons of the inn. Darts was one thing, Kahlan’s full daggers another (they had more weight to them), but knives were tricky. You had to feel the blade between your fingers, be absolutely sure of your intent.
“We can go out back, practice on a tree first?” Kahlan suggested, her smile bright.
The moon was full and Richard followed Kahlan's silhouette outside, her flowing white robes guiding his way.
“Is my aim this bad?” He asked with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood, not entirely comfortable with the way Kahlan was looking at him.
He wasn’t one for fancy speeches, so he didn’t know how to tell Kahlan how she was making him feel. Everything that came to mind sounded dumb when he said it out loud.
Starlight danced in her eyes as she seemed to float to a nearby gnarled tree. “This one will do.” She turned to face him, her hair bouncing against her shoulders and the slightest hint of silver from her corset glinted at him teasingly in the dark. He wanted to peel away the white fabric that tempted him daily, wanted to push her up against the rough bark of the tree.
Instead, he fumbled with his belt, trying to find calm fingers to deal with the cold steel of his knives.
“Shouldn’t you move?” He called to her. Out of my view and out of my mind.
But she stayed rooted to her place beside the tree, her shoulders held up with purpose. “You’re going to throw the knives around me.” She instructed, unfurling her arms like a dancer. “Try to miss.” She smirked at him, before closing her eyes.
His palms became instantly sweaty at the idea of throwing anything at Kahlan and he quickly searched his mind for an excuse to stop this exercise. What he wouldn’t give now for one of Zedd poorly timed interruptions!
Kahlan, for her part, was standing still as the tree itself, her breathing measured and light. He was amazed by how much she trusted him and in that second he desperately wanted to prove that it was well-placed.
He took a deep breath, widening his stance so his hips were equal to his shoulders. He gripped the blade of the first knife between his thumb and forefinger, making a silent plea to the Creator as he felt it let go.
When Kahlan opened her eyes again, it was to see Richard’s three knives sticking out between her splayed fingers. Her resulting smile was as brilliant as the moon.
roomies, doctor/donna, doctor who
300 words, altoids fordeadduck008
“Oi! What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means ‘do you want a mint?’” The Doctor stated simply, baffled at Donna’s response.
“You trying to say I’ve got bad breath?” She challenged.
“Nothing of the sort.”
“This is just like a man. Spend any amount of time together and suddenly they want to change you.”
“Donna, you’re acting a bit strange...” But before he could ask if she were okay (or incriminate himself any more by inquiring after her menstrual cycle), she snapped her fingers in front of his face angrily.
“You trying to improve me, alien-boy?”
“What? No. You’re not like some sort of project I’ve taken on.”
“So, you’re saying that if I were to wander ‘round the TARDIS until I found whatever closet you call a room, I wouldn’t find some neatly numbered list of my flaws?”
“Donna, we’re friends. I wouldn’t do that to...I mean, if you’re asking if I dislike the fact that you warble in the shower or that you keep stinky cheeses in the fridge or like to file your nails in the console room, well, those thoughts have crossed my mind.”
“I told you, I need to keep my nails trim if I’m going to fly the TARDIS!”
“We’re gonna find out things that annoy us, but that doesn’t change anything. You—“, he sputtered and ran his hands through his hair, frantic.
“Look, the air on this planet smells lightly of spearmint from the factories nearby and it makes me crave an altoid. So I was just, well, offering one to you.”
Surprised at his kindness, Donna’s mouth gaped open, effectively silencing any further protests. The Doctor walked past Donna, a proud smile on his face. “Now, come on, or we’ll be late for the concert.”
He called back over his shoulder, “And you should know me better by now, I always organize my lists reverse-alphabetically.”
being eco-friendly, doctor/donna, doctor who
500 words, cold, just something in my head
Donna was in a good mood, she had found a darling jacket and long woollen scarf and the find had her practically skipping into the console room. “Alright, I’m ready. And don’t think for a second that I’ve forgotten what you said about that list.”
She skidded to a stop at the sight before her.
“What’s all this, then?” Her arms flailed a bit in the Doctor’s general direction.
“It’s nothing.” The Doctor fidgeted, shuffling his feet on the metal grating.
“S’not nothing. You’re wearing a hoodie for God’s sake!” Her voice was high with shock.
“I think I mentioned that this planet gets a tad chilly this time of year.” He scratched at his ear, trying hard not to look Donna in the eye.
“You don’t feel cold! You’re like immune to temperature or something, I mean, I’ve seen you wear your suit on a glacier!” Donna countered.
“Well, they...they cover their heads on this planet. It’s a...a sign of respect.”
“Not buying it. You never try to blend in anywhere else. I was starting to think that you had a whole room with nothing but skinny boy suits!”
“Come on, Donna. Do you want to see the planet, or not?” He sped on his heels, headed for the TARDIS doors, a faint blush creeping up the back of his neck.
“Look at you, all nervous like a kid on his first date! This planet’s special, isn’t it?” She stepped closer to poke him in the chest. “You like them.”
“Uh, I, well, I admire the society. I mean, the things they’ve managed to accomplish—“
“No, it’s more than that. You like-like them.”
“Donna, I’m leaving. This instant. You can stay—“
“No, no. I’m right behind you. No need to get your fancy alien pants in a twist.”
Two hours later and in the back of a freezing cold delivery truck, Donna brought up how they were still not anywhere near their desired destination.
“What’s so great about these people, then?” Donna asked, her scarf now wrapped around her head.
“Well, no Industrial Revolution, I suppose. Think about it, Donna. No horrible living conditions, no poverty or disease, no coal smoke polluting the sky or gasoline fumes polluting the air. This lot went straight from horse-drawn carriages to electric cars! ‘Course, meant they relied on carriages for centuries more than societies equal to their intelligence and even now their fastest car can only drive at 40km/h, but you’ve got to admit that they really care about their planet!”
“It’s not like you to be so eco-friendly. I half expect you to jump out and shout that it’s April Fool’s day here.”
“They just...take their time, that’s all. There’s no rush. Everyone knows that they will get where they are going eventually and there’s no benefit from speeding to get there. So when I forget to sit back and appreciate my life, I come here.”
Donna could tell that the Doctor was embarrassed, and he was wearing his ‘thinking-about-sad-things’-face, so she let it drop.
For now.
artificial clamours and blasts, will/lyra, his dark materials
600 words, bowling forgracelessheart
He never thinks of his past self as Will-Before-Lyra, but sometimes he thinks of himself now as Will-After-Lyra. His life has changed so much since meeting her that going by his old name seems like a lie. It’s not something he can actually act on; it serves no purpose so he already knows that Mary would disapprove. It’s a thought that’s offered to Kirjava on lonely nights spent lying on his bed.
Will went bowling once before seeing a tear between worlds, before losing his fingers and giving away his heart. He had still been trying to fit in with the boys at school and despite his best efforts not being nearly good enough, some mother must have taken pity on him and added him to the birthday party guest list. He hadn’t much cared for the game, would rather spend his time in the corner with the pinball machine but he knew it ate up quarters like a hog and he couldn’t afford to lose any more money that week. So he sat on the bench, waited for his turn to throw a heavy ball at some lightweight pins. He usually turned around before one met the others, not interested in the resulting score.
When he was in university, he was invited to go bowling with his pre-med biology study group. Mary encouraged him to ‘live a little’, so he went mostly to avoid another lecture about his ‘long face’. As it turned out, bowling was a lot more fun when beer was involved.
The other students had wanted to give him a handicap because he wouldn’t be able to grip the ball the same as them, but Will was never one to accept pity. He simply picked up the ball with both hands and released it from between his legs. He didn’t fare too well, but he wasn’t miserable either.
He went up to the bar to get the next pitcher, glad to be away from the awful noise the game created, wondering once again why humans seemed determined to clutter up the beautiful and natural silence of the world with artificial clamours and blasts. His favourite memories are ones spent in silence, in field with only whispers to guide him, their fingers and tongues making no sounds louder than the gasp of air between their bodies—
His memory is interrupted by the bartender and Will finds his voice needs coaxing into use. He turns around after paying, sitting on a stool to wait for his order to be filled and he wishes Lyra could be here now. He’s almost certain that she doesn’t have bowling in her world, or pizza and he wants to introduce her to both. He wants to stand behind her, arms wrapped around her sides, teaching her how to guide the ball down the lane. She’d giggle at getting it right and maybe she’s turn to thank him, the words dying on her lips as she notices how close their faces are to touching, how easily she could close the gap between their mouths.
These urges of his to see Lyra rarely involve much talking. Silence is underrated.
A tap on the shoulder alerts him that pitcher is filled and ready to be returned to the group. He walks, half a man, masquerading as complete human being, trying not to spill any of the liquid or show the world that his heart feels as though it’s been hit by a ten pound ball, scattering the pieces on the floor.
cherry sweet lips, duchess/jack, alice (syfy)
700 words, honesty for the pornbattle (HERE)
Her lips are hard against his pulse and he wants to yank on her hair, half to see what her reaction would be, and half to return her tongue to his mouth.
He can sense her smiling against his skin, her manicured fingers making quick work of his jacket and now threading their way through his hair. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer, flush up against him and he’s wonderfully aware of the curves of her body beneath the thin material of her gold dress.
Funny, he doesn’t remember Alice ever owning a gold dress and the hair he so desperately wanted to grasp is now pale instead of dark brown.
He stumbles back, staring at the Duchess through heavy-lidded eyes.
“Wha--?” What was once the karate studio is now the room he keeps at Caterpillar’s library, the new headquarters now that the Casino has fallen.
“What is this?” His body is protesting their separation, there is a harsh buzz ringing in his ears, encouraging him to just kiss her again. The world will all make sense with her in his arms and his bed.
She takes a step toward him, her eyes asking him to trust her. “It’s us. Just us.”
There’s no window in his room, something he’s never cared about until now. He needs to check which way is up, needs to distract his body from the temptation she presents in front of him. “No. This is...what have you done?”
“Nothing, darling” Her voice is smooth like the most delectable toffee but there’s fear there as well. Fear that she’s been found out.
“Where is it?” He asks, picking up pillows to search for the bottle of Lust she must have stolen from the ruins.
She rolls her eyes, “I would hardly keep it on my person, would I?” He doesn’t know if he should be thankful that she’s finally being honest with him or angry that she deceived him like this.
“You spiked the dessert?” They rarely see each other, not now that he’s so busy with rebuilding. It means that meals they share become a royal event.
“Your night-cap.” She corrects, her mouth then slipping into a seductive smile, “You were thinking of me during dessert?”
He tries to rationalize his impure thoughts to himself, he had simply noticed her, that’s all.
He glares up at her when he realizes from the smirk on her face that he’s been tricked again. Must be. “You lying....” He pauses, unable to think of anything suitably despicable and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think that the expression that crossed her flawless face was hurt.
She walks around him, to whisper in his ear, the warm air of her breath blowing past his skin. “Jack, baby, it’s still in you. Flowing through your veins. You can’t deny your body now. Let me help you. Let me love you.” Her hands move down his chest, across his stomach to his groin. She cups his balls through his pants, humming promises into his ear.
He closes his eyes, attempts to steel his voice. “Get out of my sight.”
He knows that she was telling the truth about one thing, he can still feel the thrum of the Lust in his blood and he won’t get any work done tonight if he doesn’t take care of it. He sits down on the bed, tries to think about Alice while he pumps his cock, hard in his hand. Tries to remember her chestnut hair between his fingers, her form crushed on top of his, her lips...were never painted that bright a red.
The Duchess must have done something to him. It’s the only explanation. More than just potions, she must have found stronger magic to force his thoughts to visualize her creamy skin and liquid gold eyes. He’s felt her breasts under his hands and now he must bite down on his lip as he does more than remember how they felt, but senses them now, warm and firm against his skin.
An image of her cherry sweet lips, wet around his cock flashes unbidden into his head and he wants to moan. This imagined Duchess in his mind looks up at him as she sucks him off, her eyes naughty and full of promise, staring straight at him.
He can’t help it then, he comes fast and hard against his hand. He lies back on the bed still not sated, grumpy now as well as sleepy. He gives himself five minutes of peace before he gets up, gets back to work.
Someone’s got to put Wonderland to rights.
(like what you see? watch this comm!)
midland animal control, richard/kahlan, legend of the seeker
400 words, take the baby and run delayed response for
hjea’s prompt“Take the baby and run.”
Kahlan’s arms rested on her hips, her mouth drawn into a stubborn line. “Richard, I’m not leaving you.”
“Someone has to do this, Kahlan. Trust me, please.”
“Richard, we can both do this. I don’t like leaving you alone.”
Richard met Kahlan’s gaze and wished that he looked a bit more like the Seeker of Truth in this moment to aid his argument. Instead, he was up to his hips in a putrid swamp with black flies swarming around his head like a twisted halo. “You need to pick up the moose and lead her to the camp, I’ll act as a distraction if we need it.”
“How is this puny creature going to get us inside?” Kahlan gestured to the baby moose, happily eating swamp grasses three feet from where they were.
“Well, actually, it’s the antlers on the mother that should do the trick.”
Kahlan sent Richard a quizzical look.
“Zedd and Cara are trapped inside the garrison and at this very second they could be being tortured!” Richard exclaimed quietly, trying not to disturb the baby moose that they had found and cornered.
“I actually think Cara would enjoy that.” Kahlan responded with a huff, hoping the young moose might finally notice their hushed squabble and leave.
“Nevertheless,” Richard said, “we need to act fast, for Zedd’s sake at least. You know that there’s no way the two of us can storm those high walls.”
“What happened to my plan of waiting for an officer to come out and confess him?”
“Kahlan, we waited in the bushes for five hours. While our friends sat alone in the dark! No, it’s time for drastic measures.”
“Why can’t we both carry the—“
“Please, we both know you’re better when it comes to calming wild animals.” He stated like it was a fact she should have already known.
“Then I should stay here to meet the mother!”
“No, the genius of this plan depends on the mother being scared and angry, looking for her stolen calf.”
Kahlan hardly thought the plan deserved the ‘genius’ label, but she really hated the smell of the swamp and her will to stay near it was wearing down.
“Will you please pick her up?” Richard looked at her with eyes that had no right to look as adorable as they did when the man they belonged to was waist-deep in swamp sludge.
“Okay, but if this doesn’t break down the garrison doors, I’m telling Cara all about your genius plan.
unfurled and exposed, richard/kahlan, legend of the seeker
400 words, after the wars for
hjeaThe fight is long and painful, the war has been going on longer than he ever expected. He’s bone-tired but more than being exhausted, he’s scared that the difficult choices he made, the ones that keep him up at night, have changed him.
If this is finally his time to reap the benefits of his labours, he wonders if Kahlan will recognize him as the man she loves. He, of course, has no choice but to worship her, not because he has been Confessed, but because he appreciates the fact that she has stood by his side throughout this long trial. That she has seen into the depths of his soul and hasn’t run in the opposite direction.
He feels like his bones are bleached white and fractured, bent out at strange angles to expose his beating heart, suddenly vulnerable without his ribcage as protection.
They have always brought out the best—and worst—in each other.
He feels as though she has slowly worked his joints until they twisted apart, unfurling like the blades of a fan and he has nothing left between her shining smile and the bloody mess that is his wholly encompassing love for her.
He hunches his shoulders when he stares at her across the bloody field, self-consciously curling his body around the ache that sits in his chest, cradling the break that he expects with this next interaction.
His whole future is on the line now as he walks slowly toward her, the Sword of Truth forgotten and dropped in the grass.
His voice is hoarse from yelling nothing but battle cries and he thinks he’s ready for a lifetime of whispered devotions into Kahlan’s ear.
“Kahlan, I...I’m damaged. I have evil inside of me, so much that sometimes I get scared. The only time I think I can handle it is when you’re near. I...will you...” He winced; sure that he’d ruined his chances. He should have practiced a speech that was this important, but with the all the planning and drawing up of plans, he’d never suspected that he’d survive. They had been outnumbered three-to-one.
He looked up, knowing that even if she rejected him now, he needed to soak in as much of her face now while he could.
His answer was sparkling in her eyes and in the turn of her lips. He saw just the hint of a smile before he felt Kahlan jump into his arms, her lips crushing against his own.
fingers of steel, richard/kahlan, legend of the seeker
500 words, knives for
ninamazingAfter months tramping through thick forests, the four of them make their way to a village with an inn. It was the very picture of small-town D’Hara, complete with animal heads adorning the walls and a roaring fire warming the whole room.
“Finally, a real tavern.” Cara says as she looks around.
“And what qualifies a place as a real tavern?” Zedd asks.
“Three things; game, gambling and good beer.” Cara strode right up to the bar, apparently finished with the conversation.
“Well, I guess that’s my cue to see what’s to eat.” Zedd said before he left to sit down.
Richard was startled when Kahlan sidled up beside him, talking over his shoulder. “They have darts here.”
“My aim’s not that good.”
“I know, I was thinking we could practice your knife-throwing skills.”
Richard looked around, unsure about endangering the other patrons of the inn. Darts was one thing, Kahlan’s full daggers another (they had more weight to them), but knives were tricky. You had to feel the blade between your fingers, be absolutely sure of your intent.
“We can go out back, practice on a tree first?” Kahlan suggested, her smile bright.
The moon was full and Richard followed Kahlan's silhouette outside, her flowing white robes guiding his way.
“Is my aim this bad?” He asked with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood, not entirely comfortable with the way Kahlan was looking at him.
He wasn’t one for fancy speeches, so he didn’t know how to tell Kahlan how she was making him feel. Everything that came to mind sounded dumb when he said it out loud.
Starlight danced in her eyes as she seemed to float to a nearby gnarled tree. “This one will do.” She turned to face him, her hair bouncing against her shoulders and the slightest hint of silver from her corset glinted at him teasingly in the dark. He wanted to peel away the white fabric that tempted him daily, wanted to push her up against the rough bark of the tree.
Instead, he fumbled with his belt, trying to find calm fingers to deal with the cold steel of his knives.
“Shouldn’t you move?” He called to her. Out of my view and out of my mind.
But she stayed rooted to her place beside the tree, her shoulders held up with purpose. “You’re going to throw the knives around me.” She instructed, unfurling her arms like a dancer. “Try to miss.” She smirked at him, before closing her eyes.
His palms became instantly sweaty at the idea of throwing anything at Kahlan and he quickly searched his mind for an excuse to stop this exercise. What he wouldn’t give now for one of Zedd poorly timed interruptions!
Kahlan, for her part, was standing still as the tree itself, her breathing measured and light. He was amazed by how much she trusted him and in that second he desperately wanted to prove that it was well-placed.
He took a deep breath, widening his stance so his hips were equal to his shoulders. He gripped the blade of the first knife between his thumb and forefinger, making a silent plea to the Creator as he felt it let go.
When Kahlan opened her eyes again, it was to see Richard’s three knives sticking out between her splayed fingers. Her resulting smile was as brilliant as the moon.
roomies, doctor/donna, doctor who
300 words, altoids for
deadduck008“Oi! What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means ‘do you want a mint?’” The Doctor stated simply, baffled at Donna’s response.
“You trying to say I’ve got bad breath?” She challenged.
“Nothing of the sort.”
“This is just like a man. Spend any amount of time together and suddenly they want to change you.”
“Donna, you’re acting a bit strange...” But before he could ask if she were okay (or incriminate himself any more by inquiring after her menstrual cycle), she snapped her fingers in front of his face angrily.
“You trying to improve me, alien-boy?”
“What? No. You’re not like some sort of project I’ve taken on.”
“So, you’re saying that if I were to wander ‘round the TARDIS until I found whatever closet you call a room, I wouldn’t find some neatly numbered list of my flaws?”
“Donna, we’re friends. I wouldn’t do that to...I mean, if you’re asking if I dislike the fact that you warble in the shower or that you keep stinky cheeses in the fridge or like to file your nails in the console room, well, those thoughts have crossed my mind.”
“I told you, I need to keep my nails trim if I’m going to fly the TARDIS!”
“We’re gonna find out things that annoy us, but that doesn’t change anything. You—“, he sputtered and ran his hands through his hair, frantic.
“Look, the air on this planet smells lightly of spearmint from the factories nearby and it makes me crave an altoid. So I was just, well, offering one to you.”
Surprised at his kindness, Donna’s mouth gaped open, effectively silencing any further protests. The Doctor walked past Donna, a proud smile on his face. “Now, come on, or we’ll be late for the concert.”
He called back over his shoulder, “And you should know me better by now, I always organize my lists reverse-alphabetically.”
being eco-friendly, doctor/donna, doctor who
500 words, cold, just something in my head
Donna was in a good mood, she had found a darling jacket and long woollen scarf and the find had her practically skipping into the console room. “Alright, I’m ready. And don’t think for a second that I’ve forgotten what you said about that list.”
She skidded to a stop at the sight before her.
“What’s all this, then?” Her arms flailed a bit in the Doctor’s general direction.
“It’s nothing.” The Doctor fidgeted, shuffling his feet on the metal grating.
“S’not nothing. You’re wearing a hoodie for God’s sake!” Her voice was high with shock.
“I think I mentioned that this planet gets a tad chilly this time of year.” He scratched at his ear, trying hard not to look Donna in the eye.
“You don’t feel cold! You’re like immune to temperature or something, I mean, I’ve seen you wear your suit on a glacier!” Donna countered.
“Well, they...they cover their heads on this planet. It’s a...a sign of respect.”
“Not buying it. You never try to blend in anywhere else. I was starting to think that you had a whole room with nothing but skinny boy suits!”
“Come on, Donna. Do you want to see the planet, or not?” He sped on his heels, headed for the TARDIS doors, a faint blush creeping up the back of his neck.
“Look at you, all nervous like a kid on his first date! This planet’s special, isn’t it?” She stepped closer to poke him in the chest. “You like them.”
“Uh, I, well, I admire the society. I mean, the things they’ve managed to accomplish—“
“No, it’s more than that. You like-like them.”
“Donna, I’m leaving. This instant. You can stay—“
“No, no. I’m right behind you. No need to get your fancy alien pants in a twist.”
Two hours later and in the back of a freezing cold delivery truck, Donna brought up how they were still not anywhere near their desired destination.
“What’s so great about these people, then?” Donna asked, her scarf now wrapped around her head.
“Well, no Industrial Revolution, I suppose. Think about it, Donna. No horrible living conditions, no poverty or disease, no coal smoke polluting the sky or gasoline fumes polluting the air. This lot went straight from horse-drawn carriages to electric cars! ‘Course, meant they relied on carriages for centuries more than societies equal to their intelligence and even now their fastest car can only drive at 40km/h, but you’ve got to admit that they really care about their planet!”
“It’s not like you to be so eco-friendly. I half expect you to jump out and shout that it’s April Fool’s day here.”
“They just...take their time, that’s all. There’s no rush. Everyone knows that they will get where they are going eventually and there’s no benefit from speeding to get there. So when I forget to sit back and appreciate my life, I come here.”
Donna could tell that the Doctor was embarrassed, and he was wearing his ‘thinking-about-sad-things’-face, so she let it drop.
For now.
artificial clamours and blasts, will/lyra, his dark materials
600 words, bowling for
gracelessheartHe never thinks of his past self as Will-Before-Lyra, but sometimes he thinks of himself now as Will-After-Lyra. His life has changed so much since meeting her that going by his old name seems like a lie. It’s not something he can actually act on; it serves no purpose so he already knows that Mary would disapprove. It’s a thought that’s offered to Kirjava on lonely nights spent lying on his bed.
Will went bowling once before seeing a tear between worlds, before losing his fingers and giving away his heart. He had still been trying to fit in with the boys at school and despite his best efforts not being nearly good enough, some mother must have taken pity on him and added him to the birthday party guest list. He hadn’t much cared for the game, would rather spend his time in the corner with the pinball machine but he knew it ate up quarters like a hog and he couldn’t afford to lose any more money that week. So he sat on the bench, waited for his turn to throw a heavy ball at some lightweight pins. He usually turned around before one met the others, not interested in the resulting score.
When he was in university, he was invited to go bowling with his pre-med biology study group. Mary encouraged him to ‘live a little’, so he went mostly to avoid another lecture about his ‘long face’. As it turned out, bowling was a lot more fun when beer was involved.
The other students had wanted to give him a handicap because he wouldn’t be able to grip the ball the same as them, but Will was never one to accept pity. He simply picked up the ball with both hands and released it from between his legs. He didn’t fare too well, but he wasn’t miserable either.
He went up to the bar to get the next pitcher, glad to be away from the awful noise the game created, wondering once again why humans seemed determined to clutter up the beautiful and natural silence of the world with artificial clamours and blasts. His favourite memories are ones spent in silence, in field with only whispers to guide him, their fingers and tongues making no sounds louder than the gasp of air between their bodies—
His memory is interrupted by the bartender and Will finds his voice needs coaxing into use. He turns around after paying, sitting on a stool to wait for his order to be filled and he wishes Lyra could be here now. He’s almost certain that she doesn’t have bowling in her world, or pizza and he wants to introduce her to both. He wants to stand behind her, arms wrapped around her sides, teaching her how to guide the ball down the lane. She’d giggle at getting it right and maybe she’s turn to thank him, the words dying on her lips as she notices how close their faces are to touching, how easily she could close the gap between their mouths.
These urges of his to see Lyra rarely involve much talking. Silence is underrated.
A tap on the shoulder alerts him that pitcher is filled and ready to be returned to the group. He walks, half a man, masquerading as complete human being, trying not to spill any of the liquid or show the world that his heart feels as though it’s been hit by a ten pound ball, scattering the pieces on the floor.
cherry sweet lips, duchess/jack, alice (syfy)
700 words, honesty for the pornbattle (HERE)
Her lips are hard against his pulse and he wants to yank on her hair, half to see what her reaction would be, and half to return her tongue to his mouth.
He can sense her smiling against his skin, her manicured fingers making quick work of his jacket and now threading their way through his hair. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer, flush up against him and he’s wonderfully aware of the curves of her body beneath the thin material of her gold dress.
Funny, he doesn’t remember Alice ever owning a gold dress and the hair he so desperately wanted to grasp is now pale instead of dark brown.
He stumbles back, staring at the Duchess through heavy-lidded eyes.
“Wha--?” What was once the karate studio is now the room he keeps at Caterpillar’s library, the new headquarters now that the Casino has fallen.
“What is this?” His body is protesting their separation, there is a harsh buzz ringing in his ears, encouraging him to just kiss her again. The world will all make sense with her in his arms and his bed.
She takes a step toward him, her eyes asking him to trust her. “It’s us. Just us.”
There’s no window in his room, something he’s never cared about until now. He needs to check which way is up, needs to distract his body from the temptation she presents in front of him. “No. This is...what have you done?”
“Nothing, darling” Her voice is smooth like the most delectable toffee but there’s fear there as well. Fear that she’s been found out.
“Where is it?” He asks, picking up pillows to search for the bottle of Lust she must have stolen from the ruins.
She rolls her eyes, “I would hardly keep it on my person, would I?” He doesn’t know if he should be thankful that she’s finally being honest with him or angry that she deceived him like this.
“You spiked the dessert?” They rarely see each other, not now that he’s so busy with rebuilding. It means that meals they share become a royal event.
“Your night-cap.” She corrects, her mouth then slipping into a seductive smile, “You were thinking of me during dessert?”
He tries to rationalize his impure thoughts to himself, he had simply noticed her, that’s all.
He glares up at her when he realizes from the smirk on her face that he’s been tricked again. Must be. “You lying....” He pauses, unable to think of anything suitably despicable and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think that the expression that crossed her flawless face was hurt.
She walks around him, to whisper in his ear, the warm air of her breath blowing past his skin. “Jack, baby, it’s still in you. Flowing through your veins. You can’t deny your body now. Let me help you. Let me love you.” Her hands move down his chest, across his stomach to his groin. She cups his balls through his pants, humming promises into his ear.
He closes his eyes, attempts to steel his voice. “Get out of my sight.”
He knows that she was telling the truth about one thing, he can still feel the thrum of the Lust in his blood and he won’t get any work done tonight if he doesn’t take care of it. He sits down on the bed, tries to think about Alice while he pumps his cock, hard in his hand. Tries to remember her chestnut hair between his fingers, her form crushed on top of his, her lips...were never painted that bright a red.
The Duchess must have done something to him. It’s the only explanation. More than just potions, she must have found stronger magic to force his thoughts to visualize her creamy skin and liquid gold eyes. He’s felt her breasts under his hands and now he must bite down on his lip as he does more than remember how they felt, but senses them now, warm and firm against his skin.
An image of her cherry sweet lips, wet around his cock flashes unbidden into his head and he wants to moan. This imagined Duchess in his mind looks up at him as she sucks him off, her eyes naughty and full of promise, staring straight at him.
He can’t help it then, he comes fast and hard against his hand. He lies back on the bed still not sated, grumpy now as well as sleepy. He gives himself five minutes of peace before he gets up, gets back to work.
Someone’s got to put Wonderland to rights.
(like what you see? watch this comm!)
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Date: 2010-01-26 03:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-27 03:06 am (UTC)P.S. I'm soooo jealous of you lazing by the pool with a drink. But happy that you're enjoying your summer.
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Date: 2010-01-26 04:23 am (UTC)Midlands Animal Control--bwa ha ha! Only Richard could think up a plan like that. Nice use of the prompts. I loved Kahlan's dry sarcasm--especially remarking about Cara enjoying the torture. And moose! (Meeses? Moose.) Good to know that Midlands is not lacking for Canadiana. Next I hope to see Richard's encounters with the mighty beaver. ;D
And then, in "unfurled and exposed", sadness! But beautifully rendered. Poor, Richard--I'm so worried about him going down this path, losing his innocence, losing himself to the darkness, I can really see the show going there eventually. And the image of his cracked body is perfect, and how worried he is that Kahlan won't recognize him as the man he once was. My poor woobie! But it wouldn't happen--she's there to remind him of his goodness. &hearts
And numero trois is just daaaaaaaamn sexy. ;)))) Mmm, knife throwing. Rawr.
Okay, I've got to come back and read the rest, but I'm long past due for sleep, but THANK YOU AGAIN! Seriously, always some of my favourite writing.
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Date: 2010-01-27 03:23 am (UTC)Oh man, I almost wrote that one without the kiss! Then the fluff-centre in my brain spazzed out and I knew that I couldn't be that cruel. Richard may think he's darker, he may self-consciously doubt Kahlan's love (he has probably made some hard decisions that he regrets now and have caused him to hate himself a bit) but I always believe that her love is unwavering. Hence, a kiss was needed.
You are welcome, bb! I had fun!
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Date: 2010-01-26 04:38 am (UTC)WAY TO BREAK MY HEART, CHICA. JUST - WHO KNEW MY PROMPT COULD BE SO PAINFUL? AH.
I don't even know what to say. Except thank you so, so, SO much. I love mine. <3333 It's so gorgeous. (So are all of these drabbles, to be honest.)
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Date: 2010-01-26 07:29 pm (UTC)So glad you liked your drabble!
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Date: 2010-01-27 02:17 am (UTC)<333 Thank you so much again!
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Date: 2010-01-26 11:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-26 07:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-26 07:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-26 07:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-27 01:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-06 07:48 pm (UTC)P.S. One of my favorite parts was Cara's reaction to the D'Haran tavern. It was so in character. ;)
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Date: 2010-02-08 06:14 pm (UTC)Ha ha, it was so hard thinking of three words that all started with the same letter!