(![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
ranga.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
slashthedrabble Mar. 10th, 2005 06:54 pm)
ranga.livejournal.com posting in slashthedrabble Mar. 10th, 2005 06:54 pm)At last, I submit something on time. Heh.
Words: 400
Pairing: Will/Aus
Rated: PG13/soft R?
It’s a rare moment of quiet, surreal silence in the late afternoon, when good little vampires should be sleeping. Angelus is half-conscious, sated and stretched across the bed like an enormous dark cat, growling so softly it’s close to a purr as William idly traces nonsense words on his lower back. The boy’s pale fingers drift upwards after a few minutes, moving instead to brush the dark lines of a tattoo. His voice is sleepy and quiet when he speaks, hardly disturbing the comfortable silence.
“I thought we couldn’t scar.” Angelus flexes his shoulders, and Will watches the muscles ripple under the ink with a half-open mouth. He is distracted momentarily, and his fingers cease their movement- until a slight change in the tone of the growls commands him to begin the feather-touches again. He is lucky that Angelus does not open is eyes, because the smirk on his face now would have him in chains and well bloodied in under ten seconds. Angelus is a great believer in respect enforced by punishment, his own special brand of punishment that usually ended with…
Hm. Maybe not so lucky.
“It was given to me by the Master.” It takes Will a moment to realize what he's talking about, his own attention having drifted from the question almost immediately. Angelus continues without opening his eyes, a slight smile on his face that could mean anything. “’S the mark of the Order of Aurelius. Quite the process, wi’ rituals and all sort o’ ceremony. Takes powerful magic to mark a vampire, but worth it- shows what I am, the power I belong to.” William is watching in barely disguised wonder, now- Angelus is rarely this easy with him, and seeing him speak so openly stirs a sense of longing in his own chest.
One eye slides half open, accompanied by that smirk Angelus gets when he knows he’s read your mind. “Would you like to be marked, boy? Want my mark on you, tellin’ the world you’re mine?” He’s up on one arm now, and William can’t look away. His body is already reacting to both Angelus’s words and the look on his face, and he doesn’t resist as he’s pulled under his grandsire. “That could be arranged, ye know. Magic free, even.”
That night, and again every night ‘till Romania, Angelus carves his name into Spike’s thigh. The marks never fade.
Words: 400
Pairing: Will/Aus
Rated: PG13/soft R?
It’s a rare moment of quiet, surreal silence in the late afternoon, when good little vampires should be sleeping. Angelus is half-conscious, sated and stretched across the bed like an enormous dark cat, growling so softly it’s close to a purr as William idly traces nonsense words on his lower back. The boy’s pale fingers drift upwards after a few minutes, moving instead to brush the dark lines of a tattoo. His voice is sleepy and quiet when he speaks, hardly disturbing the comfortable silence.
“I thought we couldn’t scar.” Angelus flexes his shoulders, and Will watches the muscles ripple under the ink with a half-open mouth. He is distracted momentarily, and his fingers cease their movement- until a slight change in the tone of the growls commands him to begin the feather-touches again. He is lucky that Angelus does not open is eyes, because the smirk on his face now would have him in chains and well bloodied in under ten seconds. Angelus is a great believer in respect enforced by punishment, his own special brand of punishment that usually ended with…
Hm. Maybe not so lucky.
“It was given to me by the Master.” It takes Will a moment to realize what he's talking about, his own attention having drifted from the question almost immediately. Angelus continues without opening his eyes, a slight smile on his face that could mean anything. “’S the mark of the Order of Aurelius. Quite the process, wi’ rituals and all sort o’ ceremony. Takes powerful magic to mark a vampire, but worth it- shows what I am, the power I belong to.” William is watching in barely disguised wonder, now- Angelus is rarely this easy with him, and seeing him speak so openly stirs a sense of longing in his own chest.
One eye slides half open, accompanied by that smirk Angelus gets when he knows he’s read your mind. “Would you like to be marked, boy? Want my mark on you, tellin’ the world you’re mine?” He’s up on one arm now, and William can’t look away. His body is already reacting to both Angelus’s words and the look on his face, and he doesn’t resist as he’s pulled under his grandsire. “That could be arranged, ye know. Magic free, even.”
That night, and again every night ‘till Romania, Angelus carves his name into Spike’s thigh. The marks never fade.
Tags:
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
From:
no subject
I was shivering at that last paragraph.
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
And you really got me with those last two sentences. I did not see that coming at all.
Eeek! Creepy. And I mean that as a compliment.
From:
no subject
From:
no subject