Challenge #108- Earth - Xena, BSG
Title: Lava
Prompt: Challenge #108-Earth
Fandom: Xena
Pairing: Callisto/Velaska
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 250
A/N: for return2zero (and cause it was fun)
Encased in lava, hands to neck, snarling grins. Gods entombed eternal. A cavern beneath us and we fall into the earth. A hollow small enough that the other is a constant reminder of the hate that entombed us here.
We fight, killing each other to pass the time. Death and rebirth in moments become euphoric with her hands around my neck, her dagger in my gut. But I want her harnessed hate to consume me. Pain again but I want it more, fingers trailing down her side, mocking sensual enjoyment, but I can feel the soft hairs rise at my touch. Death-life again and I see wanting fire I in her gaze, the fire that mirrors my own.
She kissed me, biting and nipping her way down my cheek to my neck, pleasure in the pain of her mouth, nails scraping skin. Momentary frustration but my top now binds the hands that had been at hers. And powerlessness matters less than her not halting...
auuughh.... she is on her knees, teasing with periodic licks, smiling as I squirm. Growl unintelligible and ferociousness flashes in her eyes. She raises herself to my face, her hand between us until it touches wet curls. There was no resistance. Two, three fingers. Four hurt perfectly. She shoved in and slid out, with tormenting precision against my desperate thrusts. Every jolt pressing her thumb harder against my clit and I came screaming the rocks around us. Entombed again, but it didn't matter, because we were gods...
Title: Memories of lives that were…
Prompt: Challenge #108-Earth
Fandom: BSG
Pairing: Laura Roslin/Helena Cain
Rating: PG
Word count: 150+150
A/N: Inspired by an odd conglomeration of frogfrizz’s Roslin/Cain background fic and starbuck1980’s Cain-as-a-Cylon fic… but I don’t think you need either to get it… just a bit AU..
She smelled like earth. Wet grass after a summer rain, not the blustery wind of New Caprica's barren surface. She smelled like memory, sitting on the cliff edge on Caprica, when she was just Helena and the idea of Laura being President would’ve made them both laugh.
Now ex-President Roslin was on a planet for the first time since meeting the Admiral Cain her young Helena had become and dreams of her appeared with unnerving consistency. At first she was the shadow of a thought. Then a breath on her cheek, hand on her arm - inflaming a past she thought she had buried. She fought against the image she knew was a dream even as part of her wanted to sink into the comfortable memory of Helena's arms.
Hands, real now, jarred her awake and she found herself staring into the deep brown eyes of an unusually corporeal vision.
*****
Helena hated the barrenness of this planet but it suited her still-struggling Cylon self. She wandered the camp at night, watching the lives of those who had moved on without her, but it was Roslin's tent she always found herself beside. The gravity of Laura driving her to memories thought long forgotten, of passionate young bodies and guilty betrayal.
The older Roslin had changed but she still maintained the allure that had captivated Helena all those years ago.
Her tent again, only this time she heard the moaning struggle of Laura's disquiet. She slowly pulled aside the tent flap. Laura was thrashing in her sheets, eyes clenched closed, biting her lip. Cylon and Admiral forgotten, Helena kneeled beside Laura's bed, gently taking her arms and trying to calm her back to sleep. Realizing her error only when the tightly closed eyes opened and Laura stared at her in open-mouthed shock.
Prompt: Challenge #108-Earth
Fandom: Xena
Pairing: Callisto/Velaska
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 250
A/N: for return2zero (and cause it was fun)
Encased in lava, hands to neck, snarling grins. Gods entombed eternal. A cavern beneath us and we fall into the earth. A hollow small enough that the other is a constant reminder of the hate that entombed us here.
We fight, killing each other to pass the time. Death and rebirth in moments become euphoric with her hands around my neck, her dagger in my gut. But I want her harnessed hate to consume me. Pain again but I want it more, fingers trailing down her side, mocking sensual enjoyment, but I can feel the soft hairs rise at my touch. Death-life again and I see wanting fire I in her gaze, the fire that mirrors my own.
She kissed me, biting and nipping her way down my cheek to my neck, pleasure in the pain of her mouth, nails scraping skin. Momentary frustration but my top now binds the hands that had been at hers. And powerlessness matters less than her not halting...
auuughh.... she is on her knees, teasing with periodic licks, smiling as I squirm. Growl unintelligible and ferociousness flashes in her eyes. She raises herself to my face, her hand between us until it touches wet curls. There was no resistance. Two, three fingers. Four hurt perfectly. She shoved in and slid out, with tormenting precision against my desperate thrusts. Every jolt pressing her thumb harder against my clit and I came screaming the rocks around us. Entombed again, but it didn't matter, because we were gods...
Title: Memories of lives that were…
Prompt: Challenge #108-Earth
Fandom: BSG
Pairing: Laura Roslin/Helena Cain
Rating: PG
Word count: 150+150
A/N: Inspired by an odd conglomeration of frogfrizz’s Roslin/Cain background fic and starbuck1980’s Cain-as-a-Cylon fic… but I don’t think you need either to get it… just a bit AU..
She smelled like earth. Wet grass after a summer rain, not the blustery wind of New Caprica's barren surface. She smelled like memory, sitting on the cliff edge on Caprica, when she was just Helena and the idea of Laura being President would’ve made them both laugh.
Now ex-President Roslin was on a planet for the first time since meeting the Admiral Cain her young Helena had become and dreams of her appeared with unnerving consistency. At first she was the shadow of a thought. Then a breath on her cheek, hand on her arm - inflaming a past she thought she had buried. She fought against the image she knew was a dream even as part of her wanted to sink into the comfortable memory of Helena's arms.
Hands, real now, jarred her awake and she found herself staring into the deep brown eyes of an unusually corporeal vision.
*****
Helena hated the barrenness of this planet but it suited her still-struggling Cylon self. She wandered the camp at night, watching the lives of those who had moved on without her, but it was Roslin's tent she always found herself beside. The gravity of Laura driving her to memories thought long forgotten, of passionate young bodies and guilty betrayal.
The older Roslin had changed but she still maintained the allure that had captivated Helena all those years ago.
Her tent again, only this time she heard the moaning struggle of Laura's disquiet. She slowly pulled aside the tent flap. Laura was thrashing in her sheets, eyes clenched closed, biting her lip. Cylon and Admiral forgotten, Helena kneeled beside Laura's bed, gently taking her arms and trying to calm her back to sleep. Realizing her error only when the tightly closed eyes opened and Laura stared at her in open-mouthed shock.