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slashthedrabble Oct. 29th, 2005 06:46 am)
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Here we go again! And I get to get this in on time this time! Hee-hee! *Hugs self in happiness*! Here we go again, folks - my little contribution to some slashin' of the drabble!
Fandom: Angel
Title: In the Darkness
Pairing(s): Angel/Wesley
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Philosophical, with some whimsy – of course, slash is implied…
Wordcount: 300
In the Darkness – it is impossible not to feel.
A sudden warmth of breath on the nape of one’s neck, firm hands on you shoulder.
The cool-heat of deep pleasure.
And the sharp agony of feeling that accompanies it –
Heaven lies in the cocoon of black that falls as the lights go dim - and you can finally breathe again.
In the Darkness, it is impossible not to hurt.
Blood. A thick, welling slash of thudding numbness down the side of one’s cheek.
A pain so deep, that your skin grows cold from the dull agony of it.
A scrabbling, biting pain that claws up from your belly to settle in the hinges of your jaw, to beat weakly at the walls of your mind.
Defeat and relief lie in the false comfort and quasi-warmth of pain medication; to smother the truth of the pain with the falsehood of dark sleep.
But, in the Darkness, it is impossible not to love.
That familiar breath, accompanied by a chuff of soft, deep laughter across the skin of your throat.
Those firm hands touching, pressing – but with a steady, easy quality that smacks (almost, but not quite) of careless desire.
The same rush of cool fire, that groaning ache of pleasure.
But you can identify now, that sharp intensity that blooms in your mind – the words that yearn to be said, even as the body against you echoes those words with every movement.
‘I love you, Angel.’
Only to be saved, as you were once lost, by his breathless, gravity-heavy reply.
‘As I love you, my Wes… Now - let me show you…’
And you loved one another, in the watchful mercy of the Dark.
Fandom: MacGyver
Title: Blinded
Pairing(s): MacGyver/Murdoc
Rating: R
Warnings: Implied Non-Con, Violence, Angst, Horror
Wordcount: 400
He was grateful, when it was all said and done, for the blindfold.
Even as he teetered between boredom and utter terror, torn between the see-saw efforts of these emotions to overwhelm him all at once, or separately; he found he was happy that he couldn’t see his surroundings.
The emotions he could handle, looking upon the face of his reality –
Was impossible.
He didn’t want Murdoc to remove his blindfold.
The thought terrified him, actually – as absurd as it may seem.
For to remove it, was to confirm that he was lost in the Dark. And he would rather be lost literally in the dark, as well as figuratively, thank you very much.
For – what if he could see his way to escape? Where would he go?
Home?
He laughed bitterly to himself, even as even more bitter tears crept tiredly out of the confines of the blindfold to soak his cheeks in their rough moisture. He was so used to this, weeping while laughing, that now he hardly noticed it.
He was tired…
His brain – usually so reliable, always churning away with thoughts, ideas and dreams - had slowly, exonerably, ground to a halt, leaving him – numb. He was nothing, composed of nothing, and surrounded by nothing.
And nothing was perfectly at home in the Dark.
His stray thoughts were only wisps of numbness in the endless void of what had been his mind.
So he stared at the blackness that confronted his eyes, day in and day out, as he contemplated the growing inner dark that heaved and twisted deep inside. Its mad rush for what was left of him almost complete –
‘There are none so blind that they cannot see,’ he thought dully. ‘But, if they could– they would scream and scream and scream – and remove their eyes…then their tongues… then their ears.’ Incohesive, unintelligible – waves of ideas with no form or purpose.
He cringed when he heard the grit of a boot nearby –
No more than fifteen minutes later he started to scream, again (dully, monotonously) as he had ever since the Darkness began.
And he found that behind his mask, behind the sanity of utter black, he could embrace what he was now, accept his reality.
And he found, that most of all, he could finally claim the Dark as his home.
Fandom: Stargate
Title: Shades of Black
Pairing(s): Jack/Daniel
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Implied pre-slash, Angst
Wordcount: 400
Damn.
He couldn’t see.
Jack stumbled, his usual grace deserting him, as unacknowledged panic squirmed in his gut.
Goddamned Jaffa had aimed something at his face – and then...
This.
‘Daniel?’ He whispered, unsure as to why he was whispering, but aware of the irony of it all. I mean, how often did Daniel call for him, when the inconceivable happened? When the unthinkable became reality?
‘Jack.’ Right at his elbow. He schooled his features to not seem startled, but he was, all the same. The darkness was so…pervasive…it seemed to throw every sense he had off-balance somehow.
Then later - the beep of monitors and the steady swoosh-hiss of the AC overhead. The smell of antiseptic, blood and death.
‘Daniel.’ He found it was all he could say, as the warmth of his best friend, his secret love, enveloped him in just one, simple touch –
Daniel’s hand was on his elbow, guiding, aiding – that sweet cinnamon-dusty book smell that just spoke of Daniel, a sense so sudden that he almost staggered again – his perception heightened, even as his world crumbled with dread.
‘Danny… How long – ’
‘A week, Jack. They say…they say – ’ The deep, gentle sorrow of his friend’s voice, the crackle of grief so clear. Then an image flashing in his mind –
Daniel’s eyes – and how very, very blue and deep they could be.
‘I know.’ And he did. Whatever they had done to him – it was over.
The darkness was complete.
‘Is there – ’
‘No one, but us, Jack. Jack…I – ’
And then he was swept up, enfolded in that warmth, that survival strength that was sheer Daniel Jackson. Surrounded by the smell of him, the rough-soft feel of him – the comfort of his heartbeat and his breathing a solid wave of sound in his ears.
Only when he felt the hot splash of tears against the cool tightness of his own skin, did he let it all finally take him away, too. And he wept in the strength of those arms, in the dark that was know his, and his alone – knowing that now, now he was no longer a leader, or potential lover of this man who rocked him and wept with him.
The Dark was his new lover.
And in this, he faced the fact that he was totally, and bewilderingly – Alone.
Whew...
Hopefully - it was satisfying - of course, feel free to sound off, guys!
Catch ya' on the flipside!
Fandom: Angel
Title: In the Darkness
Pairing(s): Angel/Wesley
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Philosophical, with some whimsy – of course, slash is implied…
Wordcount: 300
In the Darkness – it is impossible not to feel.
A sudden warmth of breath on the nape of one’s neck, firm hands on you shoulder.
The cool-heat of deep pleasure.
And the sharp agony of feeling that accompanies it –
Heaven lies in the cocoon of black that falls as the lights go dim - and you can finally breathe again.
In the Darkness, it is impossible not to hurt.
Blood. A thick, welling slash of thudding numbness down the side of one’s cheek.
A pain so deep, that your skin grows cold from the dull agony of it.
A scrabbling, biting pain that claws up from your belly to settle in the hinges of your jaw, to beat weakly at the walls of your mind.
Defeat and relief lie in the false comfort and quasi-warmth of pain medication; to smother the truth of the pain with the falsehood of dark sleep.
But, in the Darkness, it is impossible not to love.
That familiar breath, accompanied by a chuff of soft, deep laughter across the skin of your throat.
Those firm hands touching, pressing – but with a steady, easy quality that smacks (almost, but not quite) of careless desire.
The same rush of cool fire, that groaning ache of pleasure.
But you can identify now, that sharp intensity that blooms in your mind – the words that yearn to be said, even as the body against you echoes those words with every movement.
‘I love you, Angel.’
Only to be saved, as you were once lost, by his breathless, gravity-heavy reply.
‘As I love you, my Wes… Now - let me show you…’
And you loved one another, in the watchful mercy of the Dark.
Fandom: MacGyver
Title: Blinded
Pairing(s): MacGyver/Murdoc
Rating: R
Warnings: Implied Non-Con, Violence, Angst, Horror
Wordcount: 400
He was grateful, when it was all said and done, for the blindfold.
Even as he teetered between boredom and utter terror, torn between the see-saw efforts of these emotions to overwhelm him all at once, or separately; he found he was happy that he couldn’t see his surroundings.
The emotions he could handle, looking upon the face of his reality –
Was impossible.
He didn’t want Murdoc to remove his blindfold.
The thought terrified him, actually – as absurd as it may seem.
For to remove it, was to confirm that he was lost in the Dark. And he would rather be lost literally in the dark, as well as figuratively, thank you very much.
For – what if he could see his way to escape? Where would he go?
Home?
He laughed bitterly to himself, even as even more bitter tears crept tiredly out of the confines of the blindfold to soak his cheeks in their rough moisture. He was so used to this, weeping while laughing, that now he hardly noticed it.
He was tired…
His brain – usually so reliable, always churning away with thoughts, ideas and dreams - had slowly, exonerably, ground to a halt, leaving him – numb. He was nothing, composed of nothing, and surrounded by nothing.
And nothing was perfectly at home in the Dark.
His stray thoughts were only wisps of numbness in the endless void of what had been his mind.
So he stared at the blackness that confronted his eyes, day in and day out, as he contemplated the growing inner dark that heaved and twisted deep inside. Its mad rush for what was left of him almost complete –
‘There are none so blind that they cannot see,’ he thought dully. ‘But, if they could– they would scream and scream and scream – and remove their eyes…then their tongues… then their ears.’ Incohesive, unintelligible – waves of ideas with no form or purpose.
He cringed when he heard the grit of a boot nearby –
No more than fifteen minutes later he started to scream, again (dully, monotonously) as he had ever since the Darkness began.
And he found that behind his mask, behind the sanity of utter black, he could embrace what he was now, accept his reality.
And he found, that most of all, he could finally claim the Dark as his home.
Fandom: Stargate
Title: Shades of Black
Pairing(s): Jack/Daniel
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Implied pre-slash, Angst
Wordcount: 400
Damn.
He couldn’t see.
Jack stumbled, his usual grace deserting him, as unacknowledged panic squirmed in his gut.
Goddamned Jaffa had aimed something at his face – and then...
This.
‘Daniel?’ He whispered, unsure as to why he was whispering, but aware of the irony of it all. I mean, how often did Daniel call for him, when the inconceivable happened? When the unthinkable became reality?
‘Jack.’ Right at his elbow. He schooled his features to not seem startled, but he was, all the same. The darkness was so…pervasive…it seemed to throw every sense he had off-balance somehow.
Then later - the beep of monitors and the steady swoosh-hiss of the AC overhead. The smell of antiseptic, blood and death.
‘Daniel.’ He found it was all he could say, as the warmth of his best friend, his secret love, enveloped him in just one, simple touch –
Daniel’s hand was on his elbow, guiding, aiding – that sweet cinnamon-dusty book smell that just spoke of Daniel, a sense so sudden that he almost staggered again – his perception heightened, even as his world crumbled with dread.
‘Danny… How long – ’
‘A week, Jack. They say…they say – ’ The deep, gentle sorrow of his friend’s voice, the crackle of grief so clear. Then an image flashing in his mind –
Daniel’s eyes – and how very, very blue and deep they could be.
‘I know.’ And he did. Whatever they had done to him – it was over.
The darkness was complete.
‘Is there – ’
‘No one, but us, Jack. Jack…I – ’
And then he was swept up, enfolded in that warmth, that survival strength that was sheer Daniel Jackson. Surrounded by the smell of him, the rough-soft feel of him – the comfort of his heartbeat and his breathing a solid wave of sound in his ears.
Only when he felt the hot splash of tears against the cool tightness of his own skin, did he let it all finally take him away, too. And he wept in the strength of those arms, in the dark that was know his, and his alone – knowing that now, now he was no longer a leader, or potential lover of this man who rocked him and wept with him.
The Dark was his new lover.
And in this, he faced the fact that he was totally, and bewilderingly – Alone.
Whew...
Hopefully - it was satisfying - of course, feel free to sound off, guys!
Catch ya' on the flipside!