Because I need out of my head.
Jan. 30th, 2009 12:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Grey's made me cry again, Skins made me squee, BSG made me its bride (I swear I will love that show 'til death do us part). Hustle is disappointing me, so is Leverage (finally watched more than the pilot). Time for Dollhouse yet?
Comment with a fandom, character(s) or pairing, and a prompt (word, quotation, picture, etc.) and I will try to fill as many requests as I can. You're allowed to make more than one request. Crossover requests are also allowed.
Comment with a fandom, character(s) or pairing, and a prompt (word, quotation, picture, etc.) and I will try to fill as many requests as I can. You're allowed to make more than one request. Crossover requests are also allowed.
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Date: 2009-01-30 02:35 pm (UTC)Lucifer Box, Lucifer/Charlie, aesthetics
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Date: 2009-01-30 03:19 pm (UTC)"I am not," Charlie says, eyes flashing, "one of your stupid models."
I raise an unimpressed eyebrow.
"Sir," he adds through clenched teeth.
I don't say anything. Yes, I, Lucifer Box, remaining quiet when I could answer with such dazzling repartie. Sometimes the best repartie lies in actions rather than words.
I walk up to him, eyebrow still raised but in a display of quite a different sort of appreciation. He doesn't flinch, but it's a struggle not to lose a bit of his nerve. I fist a hand in the hair at the back of his head and kiss him possessively, biting at his lips in just the way that makes his breath catch. When I pull back his lips remain parted, pink and entirely too kissable.
Nobody ought to look quite as delicious as Charlie Jackpot when he's flustered. Plush lips, wide blue eyes, a disarray of hair falling onto his forehead, the strong line of his jaw, everything about him a pleasure to the eye, foreshadowing a pleasure to all the other senses.
"Your aesthetics, my dear Charles, truly ought to be committed to posterity. It is not a request, I will paint your portrait." I lean in and suck at his earlobe, hear the sharp intake of his breath, feel his hands on my waist, the strength in them. I whisper a low promise. "Even if I have to fuck you unconscious to achieve my goal."
And what a glorious sight Charlie would make, abandoned in a haze of lust on my messed up sheets. Silk, and only the best.
"In fact, I think I'll do just that either way."
And I do, in fact, do just that.
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Date: 2009-01-30 04:42 pm (UTC)Speaking of, I do, of course, adore this. Nnngh fucked out Charlie. Yesyes. Beautiful.
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Date: 2009-01-30 08:13 pm (UTC)Heee! The image is very pleasing to both Lucifer and myself.
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Date: 2009-01-30 08:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 06:58 pm (UTC)THERE ARE THINGS YOU WRITE WHICH NO ONE ELSE DOES AND I REALLY NEED MORE OF IN MY LIFE.
(also- saw a commercial for Dollhouse the other day! yay! close!)
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Date: 2009-01-30 07:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 07:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 08:12 pm (UTC)He was back to his play, however, and horribly struggling with the first line. It was vexing, that. He had the rest of the first scene down, but for the introducing speech. His hunchback simply had to set the scene for the audience.
A clicking sound kept coming from his bed. Kit was cleaning his nails.
"Have you not things to do, Kit?" William asked with irritation when he could take no more.
"I'm sorry, dear, am I inconveniencing you?"
Onyx eyes, and William near surrendered at the sight of them. The joy playing there, like unto pebbles thrown into a lake by playful children.
"Yes," he said with all the resolve he could muster. "I'm endeavouring to write. You might be vaguely familiar with the exercice."
"Oh, no," Kit replied with a note of quiet horror in his voice. "William. I never endeavour. I merely succeed."
"Will you kindly succeed in letting me work in peace?"
"I shall do better," Kit replied, and stood from the bed. It hardly helped William's concentration. "What is it that is causing you trouble? Still your hunchback?"
"Ay," he admitted in a sigh. "He has been enbittered by a life lived as a deformed villain and now sees his resplendant brother ascend to the throne, but I cannot for the life of me find my first line."
"It lies not in his deformity," Kit said, his hand on William's neck, fingers playing with his hair. "Start with the brother. Start with history. Your audience will relate to it. Then only, the true crux of the matter, the deformity. Would you love me quite as much if I were a hunchback, Will?"
"Would you?" he retorted, biting on his thumb's nail.
Kit chuckled, a sound like warm wax dripping down William's spine. "Of course not, dear."
"Now is the time of our discontent," Will said, testing the words out loud, but Kit immediately tutted.
"That won't do. Where is the imagery?" He smiled, as seductive as the serpent was to Eve, and sank to his knees beside William. "Now is the..." His eyes fleeted to the window, the snow piling up on the ledge.
"Winter," William acknowledged as he followed his gaze.
"Of our discontent," Kit finished approvingly. "And now that you have your first line, Master Shakespeare, would you care to keep me warm ere I proclaim myself in the winter of my abandonment?"
"Made glorious summer," William continued, inked feather scribbling on the page, "by this sun of York. You are a true friend, Kit."
"I am your true lover, William," Kit countered, and all of a sudden William became aware of a hand on his thigh, another one underneath his jerkin and shirt, on the bare skin of his back. "And I am a demanding lover."
"Ay," William grinned, feeling as if he were walking on clouds. "I have my first line, and you to thank for it. Let me show you the depth of my gratitude, Kit."
His jerkin and shirt did not long remain on his body.
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Date: 2009-01-30 09:39 pm (UTC)hahahahaha OH KIT. I have such boundless love XD And his smug is totally justified because he is brilliant ♥
They are so very pretty, and clearly have the best ideas for what to do with a snowy day. It's amazing how much imagery- and hotness- you manage to pack into such a short ficlet. I love this, and them, and yooouuuu :D <3 THANK YOU YAY
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Date: 2009-01-30 09:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 09:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 10:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 10:07 pm (UTC)....fish? really.
THAT IS THE ONLY WAY I CAN PLAY WITH ICONS :( I will buy paid time when I get Tod's but I have yet to even put in my request, oops. I'm waiting for the day you can just buy icons without paid time... it is supposed to be coming! ::grump::
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Date: 2009-01-30 10:11 pm (UTC)awwwwwwWWWWW BOYS. i thought that time had come now, when you could just buy icons? perhaps i am confuseded.
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Date: 2009-01-30 10:20 pm (UTC)I always want more GeoffnWat, true fact. and there's nothing wrong with fish. I like fish too. yay fish!
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Date: 2009-01-30 10:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 10:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 10:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 10:03 pm (UTC)Your writing gives me squees by the bucketful so I am glad to help give you some, too <3
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Date: 2009-01-30 07:29 pm (UTC)Seregil/Alec, lesson
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Date: 2009-01-30 07:49 pm (UTC)Alec watched her go, his heart heavy with failure. Seregil had given him a simple exercice for practice, but he was not cut out to charm anyone.
"That's not the way to do it," a voice said, close to his ear.
It caused him to start; not much, but enough for Seregil to chuckle.
"Sometimes you're just hopeless," he murmured with amusement, which only caused Alec to glare.
"I'm not meant for all this! The fancy parties, talking to women..."
"You'll learn," Seregil retorted, pushing a strand of his own hair behind his ear.
He was dressed the lord tonight, and Alec the lord's protégé. And as he was watching Seregil and the play of candlelight in his eyes, he saw his expression grow from amused into serious, the expression he wore when he was teaching Alec something.
"It's not about the jokes, Alec," he was told all too solemnly. "It's about the looks. The smiles. The tone of your voice. The small touches. Watch me."
And he did. He watched as Seregil walked up to Alec's mark and leaned in close to whisper something in her ear that made her simultaneously smile, duck her head, and blush. He watched as Seregil laid two fingers on her arm as he told her something; a fleeting touch, with lasting effect. He watched Seregil's expression, intimate in the midst of the crowd. He watched his smile, charming and admiring both. He watched it all with unease growing in the pit of his stomach.
"Lesson learned?" Seregil asked, some twenty minutes later, when he joined Alec again. The mark kept casting glances his way. "It's not about wit. It's not about showing how smart you are. Lose your self-consciousness, Alec, lose your need to impress. Notch up your charm, you've got plenty enough as it is."
Alec's eyebrows raised despite himself and warmth suffused his chest. He was thankful that Seregil kept talking, however, as he would not have known what to answer.
"Your turn," Seregil said, and maybe Alec was not so thankful about what it was exactly that Seregil said. "This one, over there." He indicated a woman about twenty years older than Alec. "Show me."
Alec finished his glass, grabbed another one off the tray of a servant, and went and showed him. Somberly he went, but successfully he showed him.
"I had her wrapped round my little finger!" he exclaimed happily when he went back to Seregil.
The 'faie was laughing, but it didn't feel as if he were laughing at Alec when he put his hand in the small of the young man's back. "Yes, Alec, you did. Lesson learned."
"Is it?" Alec asked, feeling as though his pride radiated for him.
"I could almost've been jealous," Seregil added, and his smile, well Alec had to wonder if it was the same act he presented anyone. A smile that promised wonders.
But then it was gone, as was the hand on his back, and Seregil smiled warmly, without anything hidden behind it. "Come, let's introduce you to some important people. You can wind them round your little finger."
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Date: 2009-01-30 09:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 09:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 10:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 10:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 10:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-31 03:12 pm (UTC)Bar's runnin' without his help and there ain't nothin' left to do for Wat. Geoff's in his room, as in the place where he keeps his typewriter, and Wat knows better than to disturb him when he's writin'. Roland's workin', William's workin', and he's just left here with time on his hands and nothin' to fill it with. So he goes walking, and he finds a stream, and all of a sudden it seems like the best idea in the 'verse.
"What are you trying to do?" comes the well-known voice, after a while that seems like an hour or so.
An hour or so and Wat's got nothin' to show for it but wet trousers and a wet shirt, and he thinks he might be gettin' a sunburn, too. His skin feels too hot. He's rolled up his sleeves and the bottom of his trousers but it didn't help none and they're soaked through.
"Shuddup," he tells Geoff, without even turning around to look at him.
He stays where he is, standing in the middle of the stream, impossibly still (he don't like stillness), hands at the ready. The moment he sees a quick shape swim past him he lunges forward, but those gorram things are slippery as hell and the fish just gets away.
"I don't think you're meant to do it with your bare hands, you know," comes Geoff's voice again.
"Shuddup," he reiterates, voice gruff, tension in his shoulders working up to a complicated web of kinks all across his back.
He's gotta stay still. Fish get away if you make a move. Now he wants fish for dinner and he'll have fish for dinner, gorrammit.
There's a quiet noise of splashing water and the upcoming fish swims away from Wat, further to the right in the stream. He scowls, and turns his glare onto Geoff, who's rolled up the bottom of his own trousers and is headed for him with that impossibly beaming grin on his face. Idiot.
"You scared it away!"
"I didn't see you having much more success before I came and disturbed the waters," Geoff points out oh so reasonably, which makes Wat want to pummel something.
"What do you want? I'm trying to catch dinner."
Geoff's lips twitch, but he does well not to laugh. A thorough fonging might have been called for if he'd laughed. "I'll buy us fish for dinner. You're redder than a bucket of tomatoes, Wat. Come in the shade with me."
"I won't go nowhere with the likes of you."
He's not mad at Geoff for writing; he knows he needs it not like breathing, because you need to breathe to survive but it don't give you no pleasure, but rather like Wat needs food.
"Come now," Geoff says, wrapping his long arms around Wat's shoulders and planting a kiss on his lips whether Wat wants it or not (he does).
"Shuddup and let me fish."
"I'll shut up when I'm dead," Geoff points out with a smug grin.
"I'll make you shut up," Wat retorts, and he's still scowlin' when he kisses Geoff, full of love and fury, to make him.
For a while, in the middle of that stream, Geoff does shut up. Eventually, he buys them fish for dinner.