Vote: Challenge #16 - Prompt: Rhys - Overall Rating R
Here are the drabbles submitted for Challenge #16 - Prompt: Rhys. So come vote for your favourites!
#1 - Scarred
As Jack worked his way down Gwen’s torso, she tried to repress the tears when he kissed the scar from the shotgun blast.
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“I don’t understand, Gwen, I’m sure someone must’ve gotten pregnant at Torchwood before.”
“Rhys,” Gwen pleaded. “I just can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t, Gwen? Kids were always part of the plan before.”
“It’s can’t!” She hiked up her shirt to show the cratered scar across her abdomen. “I can’t give you children, Rhys. There was too much damage.”
----------------------------
“I’ve tried, Gwen. I love you more than anything.”
“But?”
“But I want kids of my own.” Rhys handed her his ring.
“What about adoption? We could adopt.”
“I’m sorry, it’s not the same.”
“…so that’s it then? I can’t have kids so you’re leaving me?” Gwen’s heart was breaking.
“I’m so sorry, Gwen.”
--------------------------------
“How’re you holding up?” Jack rubbed Gwen’s shoulders at her computer.
“Honestly, I feel hollow and insecure. Otherwise, I’m fine.”
“I’ve been divorced before. It’s never fun.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
“When was the last time you went out on the town? Chasing Slitheen through the West End last week doesn’t count.”
“Probably my birthday five months ago.”
“Let me take you out tonight.”
-------------------------------------
The tears passed quickly as Jack moved even lower, his tongue tracing along Gwen’s hipbone. “Beautiful,” Jack whispered into her navel. “So beautiful.”
“I’m damaged goods.”
“So am I, Gwen.” His tongue swirled around her curls, lapping at the wetness below. “We all have our scars.”
#2 - He Knows
He knows.
It’s not a topic that’s up for discussion, and that suits him just fine. He never wants to have that conversation because he knows he would be the only one to lose out.
Most of the time he can’t find it in himself to blame her. Who wouldn’t fall for the heroic, handsome, undying figure that was Captain Jack Harkness? At other times he wants to punch the guy out for being so much better than him.
He never pushes. As long as she comes home to him, he’ll hold on to her for all that he’s worth.
#3 - Last Thoughts
She ran faster into the dark night. The fog enclosed around her, threatening to suffocate her. It was moist and cold like fog but black and thick like smoke, and it burnt her eyes and throat. She tried pushing it away, but it pushed back. She continued to run, her useless torch long abandoned among the tall grass.
“Rhys! Darling, where are you? Answer me! RHYS!” Gwen started to panic, which only made the smoky fog close in on her even faster.
Where was Rhys? How did they get there? What was this fog? Where was she? Who was she?
The fog started to choke her, her head started to hurt. But she continued to run. She had to find Rhys. Her husband, her life. He would know what to do if only they had managed to stay together.
Gwen felt the hot tears run down her face and her voice gave out at last. She sunk down on her knees and started to sob, the occasional “Rhys, where are you?” escaping her lips into the night.
She felt two hands reach down and lift her to her feet. One of those hands tilted her chin up to look into its owner’s eyes. Gwen struggled to open her eyes against the stinging atmosphere, saw deep pools of blue. His voice was distance and strange.
“Gwen, come back to us. Do this for me. Don’t leave me now. Rhys wouldn’t have wanted it this way. ”
“Jack...” the darkness devoured her.
#4 - Mine
Gwen’s standing in front of her desk, sorting out piles of folders. It’s not an irregular occurrence, Torchwood is a bureaucracy, we have a lot of paperwork. It’s her smile that has me staring, and I am staring. She hasn’t noticed me, but if she does, I’ll smirk, she’ll blush, worse things could happen.
“Good night?” I ask as I take a seat on her desk.
She startles a little, and then gives me a sly smile. “Good morning,” she corrects.
This is when I realize it, Gwen smells like sex. She smells like sex because of him, and whether or not he did it on purpose that’s a giant God damn mine plastered all over someone that just fucking isn’t.
I think it’s time I made that clear.
She lets out a little surprised gasp when I pull her against me. I almost don’t hear it over the flutter of the papers falling to the floor, but my attention’s all on her, so I catch it.
Her lips open under mine, and her hands comes up to my jaw, pulling us even closer. I can almost feel little electric shocks as I run my hand up the bumps of her spin, and my breath hitches when she shivers.
I move my lips across her jaw and down her neck to the place where it joins with her shoulder. I bite down hard, and she whimpers desperately into my ear.
“Mine.”
#5 - Single Moment Where...
I’ve been living in one moment for months now - the moment between the edge of the building and right before you drop off. The part where you realize falling isn’t so bad, and the ground is almost upon you. That moment where you see your wife in the arms of another man and know she could never be free with you.
I’ve vowed never again show up unannounced. It only brought me to this moment of freefalling painful wingless flight. A simple gesture of bringing some coffee to where she works, a small book I had picked up while trolling the streets, something to make her smile. But I stood frozen realizing she had already had a something to make her smile.
Rage filled me - and sadness. I had argued with her that night over a pot being cleaned. It should have been about why she was so keen on having another man’s arms around her, and what was the peck not quite on the cheeks was good for? For how long had she been doing whatever she was doing? But my desperation couldn’t be seen; I was too busy grasping to what I feared were broken pieces.
I have careened over the edge now, sitting on the steps, watching for any sign of Torchwood, Gwen, Jack, to stir, ready to let loose the pieces and burn myself as I set her free like I should. And I, I will sour into the depths, knowing she belonged to another.
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#1 - Scarred
As Jack worked his way down Gwen’s torso, she tried to repress the tears when he kissed the scar from the shotgun blast.
-------------------------------
“I don’t understand, Gwen, I’m sure someone must’ve gotten pregnant at Torchwood before.”
“Rhys,” Gwen pleaded. “I just can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t, Gwen? Kids were always part of the plan before.”
“It’s can’t!” She hiked up her shirt to show the cratered scar across her abdomen. “I can’t give you children, Rhys. There was too much damage.”
----------------------------
“I’ve tried, Gwen. I love you more than anything.”
“But?”
“But I want kids of my own.” Rhys handed her his ring.
“What about adoption? We could adopt.”
“I’m sorry, it’s not the same.”
“…so that’s it then? I can’t have kids so you’re leaving me?” Gwen’s heart was breaking.
“I’m so sorry, Gwen.”
--------------------------------
“How’re you holding up?” Jack rubbed Gwen’s shoulders at her computer.
“Honestly, I feel hollow and insecure. Otherwise, I’m fine.”
“I’ve been divorced before. It’s never fun.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
“When was the last time you went out on the town? Chasing Slitheen through the West End last week doesn’t count.”
“Probably my birthday five months ago.”
“Let me take you out tonight.”
-------------------------------------
The tears passed quickly as Jack moved even lower, his tongue tracing along Gwen’s hipbone. “Beautiful,” Jack whispered into her navel. “So beautiful.”
“I’m damaged goods.”
“So am I, Gwen.” His tongue swirled around her curls, lapping at the wetness below. “We all have our scars.”
#2 - He Knows
He knows.
It’s not a topic that’s up for discussion, and that suits him just fine. He never wants to have that conversation because he knows he would be the only one to lose out.
Most of the time he can’t find it in himself to blame her. Who wouldn’t fall for the heroic, handsome, undying figure that was Captain Jack Harkness? At other times he wants to punch the guy out for being so much better than him.
He never pushes. As long as she comes home to him, he’ll hold on to her for all that he’s worth.
#3 - Last Thoughts
She ran faster into the dark night. The fog enclosed around her, threatening to suffocate her. It was moist and cold like fog but black and thick like smoke, and it burnt her eyes and throat. She tried pushing it away, but it pushed back. She continued to run, her useless torch long abandoned among the tall grass.
“Rhys! Darling, where are you? Answer me! RHYS!” Gwen started to panic, which only made the smoky fog close in on her even faster.
Where was Rhys? How did they get there? What was this fog? Where was she? Who was she?
The fog started to choke her, her head started to hurt. But she continued to run. She had to find Rhys. Her husband, her life. He would know what to do if only they had managed to stay together.
Gwen felt the hot tears run down her face and her voice gave out at last. She sunk down on her knees and started to sob, the occasional “Rhys, where are you?” escaping her lips into the night.
She felt two hands reach down and lift her to her feet. One of those hands tilted her chin up to look into its owner’s eyes. Gwen struggled to open her eyes against the stinging atmosphere, saw deep pools of blue. His voice was distance and strange.
“Gwen, come back to us. Do this for me. Don’t leave me now. Rhys wouldn’t have wanted it this way. ”
“Jack...” the darkness devoured her.
#4 - Mine
Gwen’s standing in front of her desk, sorting out piles of folders. It’s not an irregular occurrence, Torchwood is a bureaucracy, we have a lot of paperwork. It’s her smile that has me staring, and I am staring. She hasn’t noticed me, but if she does, I’ll smirk, she’ll blush, worse things could happen.
“Good night?” I ask as I take a seat on her desk.
She startles a little, and then gives me a sly smile. “Good morning,” she corrects.
This is when I realize it, Gwen smells like sex. She smells like sex because of him, and whether or not he did it on purpose that’s a giant God damn mine plastered all over someone that just fucking isn’t.
I think it’s time I made that clear.
She lets out a little surprised gasp when I pull her against me. I almost don’t hear it over the flutter of the papers falling to the floor, but my attention’s all on her, so I catch it.
Her lips open under mine, and her hands comes up to my jaw, pulling us even closer. I can almost feel little electric shocks as I run my hand up the bumps of her spin, and my breath hitches when she shivers.
I move my lips across her jaw and down her neck to the place where it joins with her shoulder. I bite down hard, and she whimpers desperately into my ear.
“Mine.”
#5 - Single Moment Where...
I’ve been living in one moment for months now - the moment between the edge of the building and right before you drop off. The part where you realize falling isn’t so bad, and the ground is almost upon you. That moment where you see your wife in the arms of another man and know she could never be free with you.
I’ve vowed never again show up unannounced. It only brought me to this moment of freefalling painful wingless flight. A simple gesture of bringing some coffee to where she works, a small book I had picked up while trolling the streets, something to make her smile. But I stood frozen realizing she had already had a something to make her smile.
Rage filled me - and sadness. I had argued with her that night over a pot being cleaned. It should have been about why she was so keen on having another man’s arms around her, and what was the peck not quite on the cheeks was good for? For how long had she been doing whatever she was doing? But my desperation couldn’t be seen; I was too busy grasping to what I feared were broken pieces.
I have careened over the edge now, sitting on the steps, watching for any sign of Torchwood, Gwen, Jack, to stir, ready to let loose the pieces and burn myself as I set her free like I should. And I, I will sour into the depths, knowing she belonged to another.
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
Instructions: Vote for your three favorite drabbles by leaving us a comment and following this format (copy+paste):
Favorite Drabble:
2nd Favorite Drabble:
3rd Favorite Drabble:
Let it be known the mods can participate in the challenges in order to keep the drabble count as high as possible. We will not vote for each other, nor will we vote for ourselves, so the ball is in your court instead of ours. You're going to have to trust us.
Claims: Members have a right to make a claim or request to see the comments for the voting process, only after the results have been posted, to verify that the count was fair and not tampered with.
The Voting will end on Friday at 11:59PM, February 13th, according to the Standard Time Zone: GMT/UTC - 05:00 hour
All Comments Are Screened