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drabble roundup: misc
Run From the Light • Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo
crossing the water
lead them to die
This should not have happened. This should not have been possible.
There are reasons and reasons that Nico hated the Tiber, hated what it stripped from the one he loved. He had gone through so much to give Percy the Mark of Achilles; and for what, now? It was supposed to protect him. He was supposed to be safe.
This creature stares at him with black eyes and Nico thinks, this is not how it’s supposed to go.
Percy, for Nico can’t help thinking of him as Percy no matter what he’s changed into, growls. He bares his sharp teeth and circles like a predator, and Nico holds his ground, only long years of cultivating a lie keeping him from shaking. But it’s one thing to hide how much you love someone; another entirely when what you’re hiding is fear.
Percy leans closer and Nico closes his eyes. There has always ever only been one who would be allowed to bring him death.
But he doesn’t strike. He doesn’t attack. Instead, he sniffs, the tip of his nose brushing Nico’s neck, and his circles draw ever closer but it’s no longer the look of a wolf eyeing his next meal. Fingertips sharp with claws trail along his skin, gently, so gently. A tongue flickers out to lick the sweat from the corner of his jaw. He presses closer, and through Nico’s rapid-fire pounding of his heart he can feel a low vibration that’s almost like a purr.
Fear leaves him as fast as it came, all at once, leaving nothing but relief and the hot beat of love that Nico’s held onto for so long, the love that keeps him warm.
The purring grows, and Percy wraps himself around his prize and Nico thinks, all right. He should have known. It should have been obvious that no matter what happens to Percy, no matter what infects him or changes him or destroys him, Nico will always love him.
Give Yourself a Taste • Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
There’s something in your touch when we kiss
I scream god forgive me please because I want you on your knees
Hannibal lets Will do things he’s killed other men for.
He lets him shove him, roughly, to the ground; he lets him demand, rather than beg, he lets him bite and claw and snap and he lets Will punish him.
Hannibal has never wanted to be controlled in his life, but he lets Will have it without a second thought.
It’s not guilt. He isn’t doing this because he feels he owes it to Will, on some level, for breaking his mind so carefully and completely that the pieces left over spell Hannibal’s name. He isn’t doing this to keep Will complacent, to keep him from finding out all that Hannibal has done. Will makes him reckless. Will makes him want.
Perhaps that, really, is what drives this, this-thing they have, where Hannibal baits him until Will can’t take it anymore and wrecks him halfway across the bedroom (or the study, the kitchen, the office). Hannibal’s whole life has been a furious and calculated revenge upon the world for an act that destroyed something that could never be repaired, and for the first time, it’s not about that.
He wants Will for himself. He wants something in his life that might be worth having.
This game they’re playing will end in one or the other of them dead, and for the first time, Hannibal thinks he might be all right with either option. He lets Will fist his hand in his hair and shove his cock down his throat; he lets him, and someday he might let him win, let him understand, let him fall into Hannibal’s darkness and come out angry and disgusted and righteous.
Because he is a monster, he knows this. He deserves it all. But Will is the first person since Mischa that isn’t just as bad, just as monstrous, just as deserving of death, so Hannibal will meet him head-on with a smile. He will let him do whatever he wants. It will feel so good, he thinks, to be hated by someone who understands what he’s hating.
Everybody Smiles at You • Ned/Chuck [Pushing Daisies]
Hey you with the pretty face,
Welcome to the human race
"What are those?" Chuck asked, her whole face alight with curiosity and hope.
"Um," Ned said, because words were always difficult when Chuck did that with her face, “gloves?”
"I can see that." She peered at them - they went up to his shoulders, and they were, um. "Is that latex?"
"Maybe."
"Where on earth did you-"
"Look, I really don’t want to talk about this. Can I…?"
"Oh!" It was that look again, that look, and Ned felt his stomach do flip-flops and his head spin. “Of course.”
He reached out and carefully-very carefully, his heart pounding because what if latex wasn’t enough? What if he was taking too big of a risk, what if she-
She curled her fingers around his and he couldn’t feel the texture of her skin, but it was warm. He could feel her warmth.
"Ned," she breathed, her smile lighting up the entire room.
"Chuck," he murmured.
"Let’s dance."
Nothing had ever sounded more beautiful.
crossing the water
lead them to die
This should not have happened. This should not have been possible.
There are reasons and reasons that Nico hated the Tiber, hated what it stripped from the one he loved. He had gone through so much to give Percy the Mark of Achilles; and for what, now? It was supposed to protect him. He was supposed to be safe.
This creature stares at him with black eyes and Nico thinks, this is not how it’s supposed to go.
Percy, for Nico can’t help thinking of him as Percy no matter what he’s changed into, growls. He bares his sharp teeth and circles like a predator, and Nico holds his ground, only long years of cultivating a lie keeping him from shaking. But it’s one thing to hide how much you love someone; another entirely when what you’re hiding is fear.
Percy leans closer and Nico closes his eyes. There has always ever only been one who would be allowed to bring him death.
But he doesn’t strike. He doesn’t attack. Instead, he sniffs, the tip of his nose brushing Nico’s neck, and his circles draw ever closer but it’s no longer the look of a wolf eyeing his next meal. Fingertips sharp with claws trail along his skin, gently, so gently. A tongue flickers out to lick the sweat from the corner of his jaw. He presses closer, and through Nico’s rapid-fire pounding of his heart he can feel a low vibration that’s almost like a purr.
Fear leaves him as fast as it came, all at once, leaving nothing but relief and the hot beat of love that Nico’s held onto for so long, the love that keeps him warm.
The purring grows, and Percy wraps himself around his prize and Nico thinks, all right. He should have known. It should have been obvious that no matter what happens to Percy, no matter what infects him or changes him or destroys him, Nico will always love him.
Give Yourself a Taste • Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
There’s something in your touch when we kiss
I scream god forgive me please because I want you on your knees
Hannibal lets Will do things he’s killed other men for.
He lets him shove him, roughly, to the ground; he lets him demand, rather than beg, he lets him bite and claw and snap and he lets Will punish him.
Hannibal has never wanted to be controlled in his life, but he lets Will have it without a second thought.
It’s not guilt. He isn’t doing this because he feels he owes it to Will, on some level, for breaking his mind so carefully and completely that the pieces left over spell Hannibal’s name. He isn’t doing this to keep Will complacent, to keep him from finding out all that Hannibal has done. Will makes him reckless. Will makes him want.
Perhaps that, really, is what drives this, this-thing they have, where Hannibal baits him until Will can’t take it anymore and wrecks him halfway across the bedroom (or the study, the kitchen, the office). Hannibal’s whole life has been a furious and calculated revenge upon the world for an act that destroyed something that could never be repaired, and for the first time, it’s not about that.
He wants Will for himself. He wants something in his life that might be worth having.
This game they’re playing will end in one or the other of them dead, and for the first time, Hannibal thinks he might be all right with either option. He lets Will fist his hand in his hair and shove his cock down his throat; he lets him, and someday he might let him win, let him understand, let him fall into Hannibal’s darkness and come out angry and disgusted and righteous.
Because he is a monster, he knows this. He deserves it all. But Will is the first person since Mischa that isn’t just as bad, just as monstrous, just as deserving of death, so Hannibal will meet him head-on with a smile. He will let him do whatever he wants. It will feel so good, he thinks, to be hated by someone who understands what he’s hating.
Everybody Smiles at You • Ned/Chuck [Pushing Daisies]
Hey you with the pretty face,
Welcome to the human race
"What are those?" Chuck asked, her whole face alight with curiosity and hope.
"Um," Ned said, because words were always difficult when Chuck did that with her face, “gloves?”
"I can see that." She peered at them - they went up to his shoulders, and they were, um. "Is that latex?"
"Maybe."
"Where on earth did you-"
"Look, I really don’t want to talk about this. Can I…?"
"Oh!" It was that look again, that look, and Ned felt his stomach do flip-flops and his head spin. “Of course.”
He reached out and carefully-very carefully, his heart pounding because what if latex wasn’t enough? What if he was taking too big of a risk, what if she-
She curled her fingers around his and he couldn’t feel the texture of her skin, but it was warm. He could feel her warmth.
"Ned," she breathed, her smile lighting up the entire room.
"Chuck," he murmured.
"Let’s dance."
Nothing had ever sounded more beautiful.