angel_gidget: (TV: Morgana)
[personal profile] angel_gidget
In which I match drabbles from tumblr prompts with prompts for my challenge table. And use the challenge prompt as a title. Wringing every use out of what is already written. :p

Warning for lots of shipping, especially Jem/Tessa shipping. <3

Title: Furious
Rating: G
Word Count: 113
Prompt:

It was just Jem’s luck that creatures disliked by everyone else seemed to draw towards him so naturally. Will was one, and Church was another.
Purring warmth and soft fur lazily drew across his neck as he rested in the armchair by the fire.

Jem reached up, and scratched behind his fluffy companion’s ears.

“Yes, my friend. I will keep your secret. Will shall never hear of your guilt from me. But I wouldn’t rest so easy if I were you—”

“BLOODY MANGE-DEVIL! WHERE IS IT? A POX ON THAT FOUL FELINE THAT—”

“… but I don’t think that he’s going to assume Sophie was the one to claw his bookshelf to smithereens.”




Title: Yin Fen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 193
Prompt:

It was always a choice between two Hells.

Make lines of the silver powder, and inhale it like every trembling wretch begging by the Whitechapel streets? Get it done with quickly?  Or mix it, stirring it into some watery solution, forcing it down gulp by mind-altering gulp? Maintaining some medicinal illusion of dignity?

Jem just wanted it over with that night, so lines it was, and as the sharpness of it made his nose run red, he tried to think of other things.

It was easier done than imagined, because once he closed the box, there she was in the doorway. Candle lit, yet hidden by one hand. Covert. And in her dressing gown. Smiling an embarrassed but happy smile. One of expectancy.
Kwan Yin winked at him from the lid of the box. Mercy and compassion indeed.
Tessa did not look at the nightstand, or the drugs upon it, merely took his hand, leading him to his own bed.

No matter what demons plagued him after the sun went down, no matter how demoralizing his night, one look from her banished his morbid thoughts.
One touch of her hand could salvage everything.




Title: Rain
Rating: G
Word Count: 69
Prompt:

Tessa initially insisted that she was perfectly accustomed to snow. So really, the rain should have been nothing. But this was London, and the rain could still be so very cold, even to the point of cruel.

Jem used to hate it.

But that was before the coldness caused her to sit closer as they recovered by the fire.

Since then, the downpour had become…

Welcome.

Very welcome indeed.




Title: Smoke
Rating: PG
Word Count: 80
Prompt:

As Jem extinguishes the candle at his bedside, the moonlight allows him to see the curling tendrils rising from the wick. They are the same gray as Tessa’s eyes.

After all the battle and bloodshed of the day, he had feared sleep. Feared that his dreams would be overrode by wicked horrible things.

And perhaps, when he closes his eyes, his dreams are a bit wicked.

But they are the furthest thing from horrible, and they are tangled in gray.




Title: Languid
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 65
Prompt:

At first, with his eyes closed, he thinks the touches are random. But as he cracks one eye open, he sees that she’s tracing the runes.

As she sees him looking, Tessa smiles and leans forward, kissing his eyelids shut again.

Jem lets out a small noise—half whisper and half laugh—as he tries to determine the patterns, predicting where he will feel her touch next.




Title: Flexible
Rating: PG
Word Count: 295
Prompt:

“That is the longest time I’ve ever spent as a rat.”

“As opposed to all the other times?”

“Yes.”

“Well, if you’d told me to expect you at Magnus’s party, I would have certainly warned you about the warlock powders. I’ve had some rather humiliating experiences with them myself.”

Simon sighed.

“I didn’t even get a consolation prize this time.”

Tessa raised her brow. If Simon’s vampire biology would have let him blush, he would’ve. It was clear that he was unconsciously doing the equivalent, almost wishing he hadn’t said anything.

“I… Clary picked me up and put me in her jacket pocket. Her… breast pocket. I always complained about the rodent thing, but that part was… nice.”

Tessa chuckled.

“Understandable, I’m sure.”

Simon straightened his shoulders and offered his arm. She took it, and nodded her head as they headed for the exit. The party had grown stale ages ago, well before Simon had taken the journey to a fury existence and back again.
Tessa hugged his arm to her side, drawing him closer. When he still looked away, she finally drew her finger under his chin, turning his face to look her in the eye.

“Don’t despair yet. You may be too big to fit into my pocket, Mr. Lewis, but I think I can arrange some sort of compensation for you tonight. You have yet to dance with me after all, and I think I’d rather enjoy that prize in the comfortable privacy of either your apartment or mine.”

It had been hours since she’d seen that smile, but it was finally back, and adorned his face with a youthful giddiness that defied his immortal years.
It was every bit as adorable as any rat’s nose wiggle…

… and considerably more enticing.




Title: Music
Rating: PG
Word Count: 151
Prompt:

As the years pass, Tessa is eventually able to find some distance. Her body adjusts and becomes used to going without. Without his warm embraces, without that precious erratic heartbeat, without that rune-marked body that relaxed under her hands, without those  silver eyes meeting hers in the dark…
And her heart follows. Without that soft laugh. Without those kind words. Without that gentle voice. Without that profound patience. Without all the things that made Jem Carstairs.

She is immortal, and she is able to drift.

In time, she can think of Jem and smile at a memory. She can run her thumb over a bit of jade and not cry.

But sometimes, there is just… a moment. Something happens. She can never pinpoint what marks it from any other spark of recollection.

Something as simple as the whisper of violins on the air…

… and her solace is shattered once more.



Title: Plea
Rating: G
Word Count: 124
Prompt:

In the beginning, everything is so tentative. Was the kiss from last evening enough for him to accept her hand on his shoulder now? Might he take her hand in public, or is that too forward? These little questions that they try to answer in reassuring nods and gestures just seem to multiply.

But when he returns from a night running on the outskirts of the Whitechapel streets, with blood on his vest, a crack in his cane, and a weariness hanging over his body… Tessa feels something shift inside.

They are alone, but that part no longer really matters. She raises her arms, and utters it softly:

“Come to me.”

And just like that, with surety and speed…

Jem is in her arms.



Title: Earnest
Rating: PG
Word Count: 62
Prompt:

Sophie doesn’t usually care to recall the times in her life when she felt pretty. Pretty had disadvantages. Pretty attracted the worst of unwanted attention from men of power, of force.

But when Gideon looks at her, whether calmly holding a sword or nervously clutching a picnic basket, he makes her feel absolutely lovely, and safer than anything old memory can touch.



Title: Play
Rating: G
Word Count: 119
Prompt:

It’s strange that such a—common? typical? traditional—gift should please her so, but because they are alone and in the library where she feels safest, Jem summons his own courage and dares to lift a single piece from the box, bringing it to her lips.

He breathes a sigh of relief as she plays along, and as her mouth brushes against his fingertips, his own breath hitches.

The smile on her faces changes subtly to one of deeper pleasure and surprise once the flavor of the cherry cordial hits her tongue, and Jem feels it like a burst of joy on in his own heart.



Title: Restraint
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 158
Prompt:

They stare across the room at each other.

And just like that, the burn in his wrists is rivaled by the burn of his cheeks. Jem has never been so consumed by an actual desire before—for no, the addiction is not the same…

… he has no gift for hiding it.

He sees Tessa lick her own lips before glancing away.

He knows those lips now.

Knows they can be soft or chapped. Infinitely gentle or passionately rough. Dry as her throat or moist from the flick of his tongue.

As he bows his head and feels the heat spread all over his face—condemning him so completely—he fully expects Will to say something terribly cheeky.
Because Will always brews a tempest when he sees a chance of rain.

But Will’s jaw merely twitches and he kindly—coldly?—changes the subject, enlightening them all with intel he procured from the Whitechapel streets.
Jem breathes and the heat recedes.

For the moment.



Title: Morose
Rating: PG
Word Count: 388
Prompt:

They’d promised to rescue each other when this happened.

She still remembers when Magnus found her on the train tracks. She’d been wandering listlessly after visiting Will and Jem’s adjacent grave sites. She hadn’t cared whether a train came or not. Whether it crushed her under the charging wheels or not. But Magnus had found her, grasped her arm, and pulled her away to a place of shelter, food, and sympathetic quiet. She’s still not sure if it took ten years or ten days before she returned to the world of the living. She suspects some time in-between.

But as she stares across the cold plastic table at a wrecked Warlock thoughtlessly twiring a drooping french fry in a puddle of sticky red as he stares off into an unseen space, she wishes she’d payed more attention to everything he did for her. So she would know how to do the same.

When Magnus finally breaks the silence, she startles, and tries not to show it.
“You know, Alec had such a love-hate relationship with these things…”

Tessa nods, terrified to interrupt.

“The flavor. He loved the flavor. But the salt and the grease… he’d always forget to grap a napkin, and wrinkle his nose upon realizing he should go fetch one. He’d check to see if anyone was looking… and then just use the edge of his sleave. So self-concious. As if people would care about the edge of his shirt sleave…”

More silence.

“And the health-hazard. He always felt like such a hypocrite… simply for indulging…”

Tessa holds her breath the moment Magnus finally nibbles on the end. And something in his eyes tells her that if he tastes anything, it is only the salt and the grease.

Silence. Silence till she thinks she might choke on it.

“Thank you, Tessa.”

A squeak of surprise. She didn’t mean to, but…

“For picking me up, so I did not simply continue to lie there eternally.”

She feels a blush of shame come over her cheeks. She knows this thanks is more than she ever did for him when… when it was her turn.

So with all the grace she can muster, she lifts her head away from the half-dried ketchup and the tasteless dried sticks. She meets his eyes and simply tells him,

“Anything for a friend.”
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