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I've been re-reading Viridian5's "Things Once Linked" series (Due South, RayK/Fraser; sort of) and am reminded once again of the reason my SO gets jealous when I talk about her. For anyone new to Due South, and really anyone at all, I envy you the discovery.
Her page is here: http://www.mrks.org/~viridian/
And then I started reading more Ivy Blossom stories (!) and found this in my head.
Blah, Harry Potter, Double Plus Blah.
Snake Charmer
version 1.0
by stungunbilly
Snake Charmer
He winds like a serpent, around your heart and out your throat. Or maybe it should be down your throat, as he is now. Thick and pulsing, deep inside you where primal becomes primeval and the garden of eden is created anew in your belly. You have drawn him here, for this act of creative destruction.
“I love you,” he says, and can’t help it.
You don’t mind.
He comes, throbbing, and you revel in your lingual skill. No hissing sounds escape because your mouth is full, but he understands the language all the same. He belongs to you, because you can speak to him.
He falls back, sated, and you catch him.
“Draco,” you say. “Doesn’t that mean dragon?”
He smiles, sweetly.
“Hmmm, Harry… isn’t that a kind of monkey?”
You like him better when he is swaying in your arms, entranced.
~
Why does that happen? And how many ways can I re-write it? Will it ever become a story? Does a Zen Master spank his monkey in the woods?
Come back tomorrow and fail to find the answer to these questions.
Her page is here: http://www.mrks.org/~viridian/
And then I started reading more Ivy Blossom stories (!) and found this in my head.
Blah, Harry Potter, Double Plus Blah.
Snake Charmer
version 1.0
by stungunbilly
Snake Charmer
He winds like a serpent, around your heart and out your throat. Or maybe it should be down your throat, as he is now. Thick and pulsing, deep inside you where primal becomes primeval and the garden of eden is created anew in your belly. You have drawn him here, for this act of creative destruction.
“I love you,” he says, and can’t help it.
You don’t mind.
He comes, throbbing, and you revel in your lingual skill. No hissing sounds escape because your mouth is full, but he understands the language all the same. He belongs to you, because you can speak to him.
He falls back, sated, and you catch him.
“Draco,” you say. “Doesn’t that mean dragon?”
He smiles, sweetly.
“Hmmm, Harry… isn’t that a kind of monkey?”
You like him better when he is swaying in your arms, entranced.
~
Why does that happen? And how many ways can I re-write it? Will it ever become a story? Does a Zen Master spank his monkey in the woods?
Come back tomorrow and fail to find the answer to these questions.
