"Which one is that ( Read more... )

He finds you on the street and you don't know how he possibly could have spotted you in the busy London crowd. His eyes are dark with anger and you know you should leave, but he grabs your hand before you have a chance so much to breathe. His fingers are cold, grip strong, and you wince in surprised pain ( Read more... )

He never sleeps ( Read more... )

There comes a time in everyone's life when they realise they've been duped ( Read more... )

He takes her hand, kissing the backs of her fingers with a suave flourish, his cold lips lingering against her warm knuckles. She giggles coyly behind the fingers of her free hand, the silver of her ring catching the light from the chandeliers overhead. Her skirts sigh and shiver against the smooth marble floor as he leads her out into the centre ( Read more... )

She had been raised to believe in God, but she found worshipping the Devil so much more alluring.

He had no horns nor spiked tail, and he walked with purpose and elegance. His smile was charming and his eyes mysterious, and it was easy enough to follow him even when he walked through fire. Or maybe it was easy simply because he wallowed in flames ( Read more... )

Lucy wriggled her toes in the water, giggling at the feel of the pond fish that dared come close enough to touch her, wondering what the commotion was all about -- and if it might, perhaps, be food. They were all different colours and sizes, splashes of red and orange and yellow and blue beneath the surface as they darted in with their puckered ( Read more... )

You look in the mirror and you can't see the bruises anymore, and you let yourself believe they were never there in the first place. Oh, people tell you -- he tells you -- all the time that they were there, that the marks marred your skin, but you don't remember (can't remember, choose not to remember, don't want to remember) and it's easier to ( Read more... )

They sit in the shadow of trees she cannot name, with nothing their equivalent where she comes from. He rests his head boyishly in her lap as she feeds him bits of sweets from an embroidered pouch, leaning over him and smiling broadly with each piece, her hair framing them in like a gold curtain. He grins back and makes exaggerated, pleased noises ( Read more... )

Compared to the Doctor's old and decrepit TARDIS, the Master's was something of a high class, if utilitarian, resort ( Read more... )