Twilight fic - four drabbles
All written for the Twilight Uncanon Drabble-A-Thon going on over here. Come join us!
Rating: PG-13
Comments = ♥
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me and I am not making profit off of this in any way. Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.
Prompt: Nessie/Claire, Princess. Originally posted here.
Little Princesses
They’re treated like royalty, a handsome prince to wait on their every need from the time they were but tiny babies.
They grow up more or less together too - Jacob won’t stay away from the reservation and Jacob won’t stay away from Renesmee, so sooner or later the two were bound to meet.
When they do, it’s an instant kinship, a bond nothing to do with fur or diamond skin, but one just as binding and probably more understandable.
They’re a class in their own, a ruling class, little princesses meant to be set apart and revered. Their needs attended to, wishes granted, desires fulfilled, and the luxuries Claire doesn’t get to experience living on the rez rather than in the Cullen mansion Nessie transmits with a touch and so they both know it all.
When Claire’s sixteen and Nessie’s fourteen going on thirty something, they truly start to explore.
They want nothing but each other, aside from the whole world, and they know they’ll get it all; after all, they wrapped their princes around their fingers without having to do anything but breathe.
Prompt: Jasper/Bella, mind games. Originally posted here.
Playtime
Jasper makes her feel.
A cliché statement, sure, but it’s meant literally - after a few centuries the emotional part of her heart’s caught up to the physicality of it and left her cold and dead, devoid of feeling anything at all.
She’s pretty good at faking it though; Jasper’s the only one who can tell. She doesn’t know how he’s managed to hide the realization from Edward, but she’s grateful.
When she should be mad, he sends her fury.
When she should be joyful, he puts the smile on her face.
He’s the only thing that does the trick, his power flooding through her blood stream, supplying what she cannot on her own.
Edward and Bella have an annual get-a-way.
Every year, Jasper gives her a push of passion before she leaves the door, a big enough rush of lust to get her through the weekend.
It only seems fair that when they return, he does the same again and directs it toward himself.
Payment’s just another part of the game.
Honestly, it’s her favorite part of all.
Prompt: Jasper/Angela: Can I call you mine? Originally posted here.
Sacrilegious Experiences
She’s a minister’s daughter and he’s a Southern gentleman. In another lifetime, they’d have fit together rather well.
As it turns out, they don’t fit together so poorly in this one either.
They meet in church one day, the service long over, Angela having stayed behind to get some homework done in a place full of quiet, free of little brothers and distractions.
She’s surprised to find a lone blond head sitting in the back pew, bowed and preternaturally still.
He hears her come in, of course.
“May I make your acquaintance?” he asks.
His eyes unnerve her, as if his presence wasn’t enough to do that alone. Their color seems unnatural, something unmade by God.
A few weeks later, he asks her to sit with him.
A few weeks after that, he asks for a kiss.
(Don’t worry, he promises, a gentleman never kisses and tells, and she can feel her anxiety strangely disappear, all thoughts of Ben and Alice forgotten, replaced by a heavy calm laced with searing heat.)
Finally, many weeks later, he asks, “Can I call you mine?”
Since, for some reason, his presence fills her with nothing but peace and lust she acquiesces and says yes.
Prompt: Edward/James; I'd like to love you but my heart is a sore. Originally posted: here.
Tactics Twist
Bella leaves him after the incident in Phoenix, one near death experience having cured her desire to depart from life anytime soon, so Edward’s left with nothing but his burning drive to get revenge.
He can’t believe James escaped. If only the others had gotten there just ahead of time, James would safely be in bits now and Edward could be off, brooding in peace and feasting on the blood of the South American cougar.
Since he’s in a masochistic mood, he lists the ways he’s like the would-be killer: they’re both single minded, they’re both supernaturally gifted, even for vampires, they both want Bella, they’ve both tasted Bella.
Luckily for Edward, James is just as shit at reading minds as Edward is at tracking, so when they finally do meet, he can’t anticipate the way his words fall. He doesn’t know that Edward hasn’t felt Bella by his side in many months now.
“You may have saved her this time,” James taunts, “but I’ll get her next time. Once I start I never stop. I can still taste her now.”
His heart is sore and his muscles are tensed so when he explodes at James, his lunge is a grab by the neck and a slam of his lips onto James’. He pushes with his tongue, searching and seeking (and notes, oddly, that James seems to be pushing back, pulling closer still.)
It tastes of satisfying violence and vengeance and, faintly, of freesia.
Rating: PG-13
Comments = ♥
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me and I am not making profit off of this in any way. Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.
Prompt: Nessie/Claire, Princess. Originally posted here.
Little Princesses
They’re treated like royalty, a handsome prince to wait on their every need from the time they were but tiny babies.
They grow up more or less together too - Jacob won’t stay away from the reservation and Jacob won’t stay away from Renesmee, so sooner or later the two were bound to meet.
When they do, it’s an instant kinship, a bond nothing to do with fur or diamond skin, but one just as binding and probably more understandable.
They’re a class in their own, a ruling class, little princesses meant to be set apart and revered. Their needs attended to, wishes granted, desires fulfilled, and the luxuries Claire doesn’t get to experience living on the rez rather than in the Cullen mansion Nessie transmits with a touch and so they both know it all.
When Claire’s sixteen and Nessie’s fourteen going on thirty something, they truly start to explore.
They want nothing but each other, aside from the whole world, and they know they’ll get it all; after all, they wrapped their princes around their fingers without having to do anything but breathe.
Prompt: Jasper/Bella, mind games. Originally posted here.
Playtime
Jasper makes her feel.
A cliché statement, sure, but it’s meant literally - after a few centuries the emotional part of her heart’s caught up to the physicality of it and left her cold and dead, devoid of feeling anything at all.
She’s pretty good at faking it though; Jasper’s the only one who can tell. She doesn’t know how he’s managed to hide the realization from Edward, but she’s grateful.
When she should be mad, he sends her fury.
When she should be joyful, he puts the smile on her face.
He’s the only thing that does the trick, his power flooding through her blood stream, supplying what she cannot on her own.
Edward and Bella have an annual get-a-way.
Every year, Jasper gives her a push of passion before she leaves the door, a big enough rush of lust to get her through the weekend.
It only seems fair that when they return, he does the same again and directs it toward himself.
Payment’s just another part of the game.
Honestly, it’s her favorite part of all.
Prompt: Jasper/Angela: Can I call you mine? Originally posted here.
Sacrilegious Experiences
She’s a minister’s daughter and he’s a Southern gentleman. In another lifetime, they’d have fit together rather well.
As it turns out, they don’t fit together so poorly in this one either.
They meet in church one day, the service long over, Angela having stayed behind to get some homework done in a place full of quiet, free of little brothers and distractions.
She’s surprised to find a lone blond head sitting in the back pew, bowed and preternaturally still.
He hears her come in, of course.
“May I make your acquaintance?” he asks.
His eyes unnerve her, as if his presence wasn’t enough to do that alone. Their color seems unnatural, something unmade by God.
A few weeks later, he asks her to sit with him.
A few weeks after that, he asks for a kiss.
(Don’t worry, he promises, a gentleman never kisses and tells, and she can feel her anxiety strangely disappear, all thoughts of Ben and Alice forgotten, replaced by a heavy calm laced with searing heat.)
Finally, many weeks later, he asks, “Can I call you mine?”
Since, for some reason, his presence fills her with nothing but peace and lust she acquiesces and says yes.
Prompt: Edward/James; I'd like to love you but my heart is a sore. Originally posted: here.
Tactics Twist
Bella leaves him after the incident in Phoenix, one near death experience having cured her desire to depart from life anytime soon, so Edward’s left with nothing but his burning drive to get revenge.
He can’t believe James escaped. If only the others had gotten there just ahead of time, James would safely be in bits now and Edward could be off, brooding in peace and feasting on the blood of the South American cougar.
Since he’s in a masochistic mood, he lists the ways he’s like the would-be killer: they’re both single minded, they’re both supernaturally gifted, even for vampires, they both want Bella, they’ve both tasted Bella.
Luckily for Edward, James is just as shit at reading minds as Edward is at tracking, so when they finally do meet, he can’t anticipate the way his words fall. He doesn’t know that Edward hasn’t felt Bella by his side in many months now.
“You may have saved her this time,” James taunts, “but I’ll get her next time. Once I start I never stop. I can still taste her now.”
His heart is sore and his muscles are tensed so when he explodes at James, his lunge is a grab by the neck and a slam of his lips onto James’. He pushes with his tongue, searching and seeking (and notes, oddly, that James seems to be pushing back, pulling closer still.)
It tastes of satisfying violence and vengeance and, faintly, of freesia.