mmexlibris: (Mways Bryan Mills)
From yesterday's DE
Prompt from
[ profile] sardonicynic 
† Mills, laconic:  He doesn't like this feeling.  

He doesn't like this feeling.

This odd sensation of being the only person awake in a room full of sleep walkers. It's perpetual, these days, only alleviated by Veronica's presence. He worries that he's not built for retirement, that he'll always be darting at shadows, always be checking where people's hands are and how they carry their weight.

He knows he has to check himself, check the finely honed edge that has become his entire being. He doesn't like feeling like he's always in the holster, safety on. Peace bound.

But he can live with it. For Veronica. For Kim.

And maybe, when the weather's good and he can hear people laughing, maybe he can do it for himself.

mmexlibris: (A2A alex)
From yesterday's DE
Prompt from
[ profile] fightingthecage : 
† Alex/Gene: Fury.

He makes it seem so effortless, the way he snatches them up by the collar and smashes his forehead into the bridge of their nose. He hefts them by nape and belt and flings them against the side of the Quattro like they weigh nothing. He uses his fists to smash and smash and smash until their faces look like hamburger, and his knuckles are cut to ribbons.

And even as she cringes at the brutality, she envies him that unrefined rage, that brilliant savagery.

She dreams, twisting and turning, tangled in her sheets, and she can't lash out at that bullet, slowly spiralling through the air towards her. She can't throw punches at the never ending loop of film, that same fireball blossoming slowly, unfurling towards the sky. She can't even see the enemy, the force that took her away from her daughter, much less grab it by the lapels and slam it up against the lockers, or push it face first down into the bog.

She only has her mind. Her memories, her rational powers of analysis, her reason. She only has her heart and her will to carry her through this ordeal. And every time she watches him sweep across the chequerboard floor, every time she watches him settle into his usual table, every time he looks at her...

Her fury falters, diminished. She feels the ashes of her memories sift through her fingertips, scattered to the winds.

Whose birthday was it today?
mmexlibris: (Mways Fi)
From yesterday's DE
Prompt from [ profile] spooky_lemur 

† Fiona: Fiona; childhood memories that keep us going.

She was nine when her Da first put a cricket bat in her hands. It was too big for her to grip properly, so he whittled it down and rewrapped it with waxed linen cord. He showed her how to set her feet at shoulder's width, showed her how to aim for the temple or the outside of the knee cap, but only if she had too.

When she was thirteen, he showed her how to grip the neck of a beer bottle, empty preferably. They don't break as easily. And make sure your hands are tacky, makes it easier to keep that grip. He didn't have to show her where to throw a knee or an elbow. She grew up with six brothers and learned that key information early on.

When she was fifteen, he taught her how to layer nails and broken glass into the capped pipe, how to cut the fuse and thread it through to the primer.

When she was twenty four, his ghost stood at her elbow as she held her mother, listening to Seamus tell them what happened to Claire. His voice whispered to her, telling her she knew what to do. She knew just what to do to set this to rights.
mmexlibris: (Mways River Song)
From yesterday's DE
Prompt from
† River : screwdriver ; "Could you hand me that, please?"

"Could you hand me that?"

"What, this?"

"No, silly. The other..." She waves a hand, impatiently.


"No. Look if you want this fixed, you're going to have to... What are you doing?"



"Well, maybe a little... Something."

"Oh really. I thought you wanted to mmf."


Something trilled and whirred, and a hand fumbled up above the console, blindly punching a button and turning a dial until the noise stopped.
mmexlibris: (Mways Olga)
From yesterday's DE
Prompt from
† Olga : ancient ; She can't explain what it's like -- it just is, formless and forever.

She can't explain what it is -- it just is, formless and forever. The shadow at her shoulder, its cool kiss felt along her long bones, woven deep into the fabric of her consciousness. It is curse and comfort, simultaneously.

In the beginning, it haunted her, paced her along the muddy streets of her village, hunted her along the wooded paths back to the low cottages of her family's homestead. Black fingers of silvery darkness, catching at the hems of her skirts, tangling in her long hair. Calling to her in soft whispers, alluring and terrifying.

And then a man came, and paid good coin to take her away, ostensibly to serve as a maid to some noble woman. He showed her how to face the Gloom, how to draw it around her like a cloak, how to move into the folds and gathers of it, and within that void, how to travel vast distances. He showed her how to draw it into herself, to tap the well of strength within.

Now, it is simply a part of her. She breathes and it moves through her veins. She carries it with her always, and it is never far away from her grasp. The Gloom is the first door she ever entered into this world, and it will be the last threshold she crosses when she finally decides to leave it
mmexlibris: (A2A unbreakable)
TitlePainted (1 & 2)
Fandom: Ashes To Ashes
Pairing: Gene Hunt/Alex Drake
Rating: M
Word Count: ~649
Notes: First part written by Write, second part by Flynn

(So good.)
mmexlibris: (typewriter)
for [ profile] austen
(who has been incredibly patient with me and my reticent headvoice.  Thank you, babe.)

[ from this meme, still open and not limited to the fandoms listed.  throw me an idea, i'll see what i can do. ]
mmexlibris: (typewriter)
Give me a pairing and/or a prompt, and I will write you a one sentence ficlet.

nicked from [ profile] doihearawaltz
mmexlibris: (typewriter)
Word Count:
Between the Lines (Family)
Pete, Don
Mad Men
R (language)


"I expect we'll see you and Trudy at the big celebration?"
Try not to drool on my shoes so much this time.

"Yes, we wouldn't miss it for the world!"
Not enough you have to win an award, but you have to make sure I'm there to eat shit off your shoes at the same time?

"You going to break out the Charleston again?"
Also known as the Look At Me Look At Me! dance?

"Well, it's more suited to a garden party than a formal dance, but you know Trudy."
You looked didn't you?
Didn't you?
"She always has an ace up her sleeve."

"She sure is a firecracker, isn't she?"
I wouldn't fuck her with your dick.

"Yes, yes she is."
And she's all mine, nancy boy.
"But your Betty, man. She sure is a looker."
Does she get pregnant just from you looking at her?

"Yes, yes she is."
You're not worthy to lick the shit off her shoes.

"Trudy's looking forward to see you both again."
Maybe you can get her pregnant just by looking at her. Get her off my back for awhile.

"Well, we'll see you both there."
Maybe she'll let you wear your balls for the occasion.

"Yes, indeedy."
Maybe she'll let me wear my balls for the occasion.

mmexlibris: (waltz)
Word Count:
there's no place like home
Hans Landa/Fiona Glenanne
Inglourious Basterds/Burn Notice
He stood behind her, his arms reaching around to adjust the bell of the Victrola. "You must be careful of the needle. We don't want you to get a nasty prick now, do we?"

She grinned like a fool, biting her lip. He heard the thought and tutted at her, his breath warm against her ear.

"Really, Fiona. You're insufferable. Now, wind the mainspring." Both their hands rested on the hand crank, his gauging how far she could go.

"Careful, not too tight. There. Place the platter thus." His fingertips rest on her wrists, guiding her as she set the gleaming black disc on the turn table.

"And now, after you take the brake off, you set the needle in the groove." That required him leaning forward a bit more, closing the distance between them. His mouth brushed the nape of her neck, pressing a warm kiss to her skin as he turned the head of the stylus down.

The sound that came out of the bell was rich and warm, unmarred by scratches and pops. Jazz horns filled the air of his study, followed by a smoky voice singing in German.

In that moment, everything seemed tinged with gold, as if time itself had passed them by. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against his shoulder. He wrapped her up in his arms, burying his nose in her hair, a quiet contented hum in the back of his throat.

Together, they swayed in time to the music, watching the disc spin round and round.   And when the song was over, he leaned forward and moved the needle back to the beginning.
[ get your fics while they're hot. ]

mmexlibris: (typewriter)
Word Count:
The Ravelled Sleave of Care
Veronica Mars/Bryan Mills
Veronica Mars/Taken (2009)
Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleave of care
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast.
~Wm. Shakespeare,
The credits on the DVD looped again. He watched the names scroll by, idly stroking her hair. Her hand clenched on his shirt front, and she made a soft, contented sound.

"You want me to tuck you in?"

She shook her head, not even bothering to lift her head from his chest.

He laughed, a low rumble, wrapping both long arms around her, holding her close. He took a deep breath, and let it out in a long sigh.

"Too old to sleep in a chair," he said.

"Accountants never sleep," she murmured, nestling closer.

She knows him too well, he thinks.
[ submit prompts here for your own drabble. yes, this means you, Rog.]

mmexlibris: (Default)
Pick a character/make up a pairing from the list below, and give me some kind of prompt (a line of poetry, a lyric, one word, a kink or cliche), and I will attempt at least 100 words of fic for you.

Mad Men, Fringe, House MD, Burn Notice, Saving Grace, Deadwood, Criminal Minds, L&O:CI, L&O: SVU, CSI: Original Recipe, NCIS (shaky on this one, but I'm game if you are).


mmexlibris: (Default)
e x ~ l i b r i s ~ i g n i s

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