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gotosleep_idiot2009-06-20 01:34 am
monticello-tj.livejournal.com) wrote in gotosleep_idiot2009-06-20 01:34 am
Entry tags:
okay okay okay
FANFIC WRITER. OFFERING WAKE-THEMED FICLETTTTTS.
No guarantees on characterization for fandoms I haven't seen, and no guarantees that I'll fill anything. But yes, I will write gen, I will write pairings, I will write explicit pairings (though those will be posted elsewhere and linked on request).
You can include broad or specific requests.
And fills might be longer than one comment depending on how inspired I am IDK JUST COMMENT ALL RIGHT.
ETA: Warning: Assume ficlets below are RATED UP TO R FOR VIOLENCE and read accordingly.
No guarantees on characterization for fandoms I haven't seen, and no guarantees that I'll fill anything. But yes, I will write gen, I will write pairings, I will write explicit pairings (though those will be posted elsewhere and linked on request).
You can include broad or specific requests.
And fills might be longer than one comment depending on how inspired I am IDK JUST COMMENT ALL RIGHT.
ETA: Warning: Assume ficlets below are RATED UP TO R FOR VIOLENCE and read accordingly.
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You can refuse it because I am that horrible.
PH/Repo Man. Not asking for explicit because that would be UTTER TERROR. Just something bizarre about how PH likes listening to Nathan "not-scream" (sing) and wants to touch the shiny black thing (his suit). Their friendship thing is weiiiiiiiird and creepy.
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I think the word 'explicit' actually engaged the auto-brake on my brain, which is impressive, because NOT MUCH CAN DO THAT.
I will try this. *goes to reread PH-involved logs*
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Rip/America.
...No, I'm not sorry.
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OKAYYYY KIDS HERE WE GO
~*~
“And we see each other once again, America!”
Rip’s voice is delighted; America’s heart sinks in his chest. Manacles cold against his bare skin, gooseflesh chasing itself up his ribs, his back. He clenches his jaw shut, looking straight forward.
“Ordinarily, I would take this time to berate you for your stupidity,” continues Rip. “But it was very easy to capture you. Suspiciously easy!” She twirls a knife, between her fingers. “I might almost think that you enjoy my company.”
“Yeah,” says America, “well, you’d be wrong about that.”
Rip traces two fingers up his cheek, with the gentleness of a lover. Playfully tousles his hair.
“Stop that.”
“No,” Rip decides.
America raises his chin. Which doesn’t really do much, considering he’s lying flat on his back, but it’s the thought that counts. “Just tell me what you’re looking for, and I’ll refuse to give it to you, and we’ll get on with it.”
Rip is silent, at that. She brings the knife up close to his neck, tracing tantalizingly – no, no, no, threateningly across the skin, without ever. Quite. Cutting.
“You know,” she muses, quietly, “tilting the head back, like this,” and she does so, exposing America’s neck to the knife, “actually affords some limited protection to the arteries. Because the windpipe is in the way.” And the knife stops, over America’s windpipe.
“Whoa whoa whoa, hey hey hey,” says America, “Danger, Will Robinson—”
“I could render you mute!” says Rip. “That would be quite different, would it not?”
“Yep,” says America, helplessly, “yep, it would, so don’t.”
“I wasn’t even considering it,” says Rip, and she tilts America’s head forward.
So that the arteries are at easy access.
America bucks, but he can’t go very far, because of the chains. And she’s stronger than he anticipates – holds him steady enough for the knife to just barely dig into his skin.
And then there’s blood flowing thick and hot down his neck, fast, way too fast –
And there’s Rip there, licking, just over the slice. Sealing her mouth over it, like some parody of a kiss, and he can feel it, holy shit, feel her sucking with the rhythm of his heart.
He twists, in a last-ditch effort to get her off, get her gone, but her hand is over his chest, fingers gentle but nails sharp.
America doesn’t know how long he stays like that. But it’s long enough that his heartbeat is slower, that his breath is shallow, and not from fear. His skin feels hot and cold, and now, when he pulls at the restraints, it’s not because he’s visualizing what he would do if he were freed.
And then she’s gone, with her the pressure of her mouth; an idle trickle of blood runs down his neck, but it’s not very fast. Not fast enough for him to bleed out.
America turns his head towards her, expecting for her to follow up on her advantage, expecting to have to get defensive, even though that would be hard, because he’s so dizzy, he doesn’t – he can’t –
But she looks off-balance too. Weirdly vulnerable. And she murmurs something, something soft and harsh, something like mein geliebter Feind.
He isn’t sure which of them invites it, or maybe neither of them does, precisely. Even so, America is caught in the kiss, his breath still in his chest, his heartbeat faster, now. When he struggles, it’s a struggle to get closer, not farther away.
And then the taste of his own blood blooms across his tongue and he pulls away violently, gasping with denied breath.
Rip laughs. “And now that I am refreshed,” she says, “we will begin.”
MY CHARACTERS HATE ME SO MUCHHHHH
Re: MY CHARACTERS HATE ME SO MUCHHHHH
Re: MY CHARACTERS HATE ME SO MUCHHHHH
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o/ do with it what you will
EDITED TO ADD A MUCH MORE APPROPRIATE ICON
AAAAHHHHHHHHH
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idk anything with England? I'm very bad at being specific.
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England and France. Hamilton and Jefferson. Battle of the food cultures.
/idk FIRST THING I THOUGHT OF
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WHAT AMMMMMM I
~*~
Ahhh, I see it now. Your problem. Oh, no, don’t pretend it isn’t there! You think the story starts with you (humans always do). Of course, there’s the odd one here and there that believes in reincarnation, but it’s always so structured. The reality is not nearly so … hierarchic.
All right, then, I’ll tell you a story. I know you want one!
And here we are, then, in a world where the trees grow as tall as mountains and the leaves as wide as cars (oh, a car is a – it’s a sort of carriage, only – never you mind, just listen to the story).
There – and there, through the rustle of the leaves, yes, there he is. He stands erect, if angled a bit, his muscles with the lean and active look of a predator. Because he is a predator, you know. It is his nature to rend and kill and to take joy in it.
But this one – well, perhaps he denies his nature a bit too vehemently. Perhaps it makes him unhappy.
Perhaps he would be unhappier if he pursued it fully.
Oh! – A scuffle, up ahead, and his eyes perk to watch it. A scuffle means blood, and though his senses strain against it, his instincts strain towards it…
Somehow, ahead, a fellow of his own species has managed to catch a winged creature, the sort he has seen wheeling overhead. The sort that does not need blood for life, the sort that this predator, our predator, is jealous of.
The sort he has no trouble killing. For revenge or for food.
He SHRIEKS at his rival; it is smaller, quieter. No match for him, and it runs, leaving its prey injured, helpless this far under the canopy.
It trills, something similar to the sound of rapping wood, and our predator stills. He turns his head, favoring the right as he watches the flying creature, watches him closely.
Again it trills! What strength, what caustic strength it is behind those not-words. He has accepted his death, and he faces it bravely.
And perhaps that is what gives our predator hesitation.
And that hesitation, yes, perhaps that is why he leaves it behind.
Do you know of whom I have spoken? – No? I have not been clear enough! No, but the story speaks for itself, does it not? And if our predator sometimes sees a shadow, from a figure circling far overhead, well, perhaps that is the only sort of friendship that they could know, in that form.
You do not understand, I see. Very well. I will tell it again another time.
Re: WHAT AMMMMMM I
Re: WHAT AMMMMMM I
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Man up, Teej. MAN UP. YOU'RE AMERICAN, GD IT.
MY ICON MAKES THIS STORY 1,000% CREEPIER
~*~
There’s more than one reason that America is nervous to see Thomas Jefferson again.
First of all, the guy’s a Founding Father. He wrote the Declaration of Independence, he was the third president, which basically makes him the incarnation of cool.
But also, there’s that thing.
That thing that America hasn’t really thought about in a while.
The, uh, well. You know.
The thing.
It began with the Louisiana Purchase. And America remembers now that his reaction was something along the lines of “Louisiana, AWESOME” but that’s probably not accurate, considering the word ‘awesome’ hadn’t really been invented yet.
Suddenly America was bigger by this whole landmass, and it was all Thomas Jefferson who did it.
Well, it was diplomats too, but it was Thomas Jefferson’s decision, really.
While America could be a little boisterous at times, especially around people like England, he was still pretty shy around his bosses, at that time. So when he came up to Jefferson to thank him, it was with a tug on the sleeve, and a flush, and a stammered thanks that didn’t come out a quarter as coherent as America intended it too.
And Jefferson put a hand between his shoulderblades and steered him outside, into the air growing muggy with summer.
“It was done for you,” said Jefferson, softly, the pride of patriotism shining through his voice, and America’s heart leapt with it. He’d hardly had time to get used to being his own country and there were already people who loved him.
Of course this was Jefferson, shy Jefferson, quiet, unwilling to confront, even among friends. But charming Jefferson, too, one who could talk for hours, even sing when he was with those he cared for.
It was out in the darkness that Jefferson stopped them both, and stroked a curl of America’s long hair out of his eyes. The kiss was soft and sure, and America’s heart skipped a beat. He was trembling, trembling and aching to be touched.
The next morning America awakened in Jefferson’s bed, and stretched, and here America remembers thinking that the Louisiana Purchase was the best courtship gift ever, but that can’t be right either, can it?
Oh well.
America is nervous.
But he’d like to see Jefferson again.
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Re: MY ICON MAKES THIS STORY 1,000% CREEPIER
:O
8D
:V
>>
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Because I have a special place in my heart for Foe Yay
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ack double post
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aslfkjg;h
[Here, have some respectfully in character keyboard mashing.]
And IC creepering right back
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fff I'm sorry he's an asshole. ):
THIS GUY PARTICIPATED IN THE HOLOCAUST don't be sorry
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