![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
x_losficTitle: Swallowing Animals One by One
Rating: PG-13
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
x_los
Pairing: Two/War Chief!Master
Prompt: 25-Animal Crackers, from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
best_enemies' table challenge
Beta:aralias is v. proud that I can now correctly use quotation marks. And it only took what, six months?
Summary: Biscuits, obsession, astrophysics and sexgames. A twisty little Season 6b ficlet: weird and dark and yes, heavily reliant on the prompt.
A/N: Cookies are Barnum’s Animals for the 53 varieties, not Cadburys, because they have but 5 creatures among them and less elaborate distinguishing features. Sorry for this Americanism: make a better cracker, Britons, and Two will nomnom it.
Quotes are 1) "The Tyger," from William Blake's "Songs of Experience," 2) a stage direction from The Winter's Tale, by Shakespeare, 3) Matthew 19:24, New Testament and 4) from the Sefer Shoftim account of Samson in the Tanakh.
Title is from "Animal Crackers In My Soup"(Curly Top 1935).
"When I get hold of the big bad wolf
I just push him under to drown
Then I bite him in a million bits
And I gobble him right down"
--Animal Crackers In My Soup
(Curly Top 1935)
“Animal crackers in my soup,” the Doctor sang to himself as he used his sonic screwdriver to fiddle with his TARDIS’s controls. He paused to select one biscuit from the open cardboard box beside him. He looked at it briefly, squinted to determine it was, in fact, a wee rhino, and then shoved it in his mouth before continuing with the verse, chewing his way through the bar, “Monkeys (CRUNCH) and raaaabits loop the loop.”
The Master smoothed his goatee. Waiting for the CIA to send dispatches was akin to waiting for Godot some days—though the temporal mechanics of interminability were always dodgy in the Vortex, where they lingered in closely-monitored dry-dock between missions. At least he had company this time, not like that never-ending, plodding affair with the War Lords. And thankfully the Doctor’s calling in the High Council hadn’t resulted in their mutual annihilation.
The CIA apparently found him--well, them, from the looks of the current arrangement--more valuable than the Master had imagined they might. It seemed they weren't expendable, or at least that they were useful enough that the CIA could be bothered to cover for the Master and arrange a reprieve for the Doctor. Which was impressive, as the High Council had been eager to kill both the operative and the interloper in a fit of pique over not having been made aware of the War Lords' ambitions earlier.
“Whatever could that noise you're making be?” The Master, hands folded over one another and perched on his right knee, sat sideways in a chair he’d ordered the TARDIS to add to the console room. He watched the Doctor work with a slight, crooked smile.
“Er,” the Doctor pushed his tongue over his teeth, running it to the back molars and resting it there, pressed against his cheek. It was such an idiosyncratic gesture of embarrassment that the Master couldn’t help but find it amusing. “It’s from "Curly Top," actually.”
“Ah,” the Master snickered, “Didn’t your mother play that for your sisters? During one of our breaks? I seem to have forgotten the music, somehow," and lead was not as thick as his sarcasm, "Yet I remember it being generally terrible. Though if I recall correctly, it does end in a character with rather unlikely hair saying “Oh my word!” Perhaps I’m finally beginning to grasp the inspiration behind this rather esoteric regeneration of yours.”
“Kindly shush up and have a cracker, hm?” The Doctor raised one dark eyebrow and shook the bright red box at the Master, who unwound himself from the chair with feline grace and approached, suspiciously selecting one cookie from the box and examining it thoroughly.
“Tyger, tyger, burning bright, in the forest of the night.” The Master twirled the little biscuit by the tail between his thumb and forefinger. “What immortal hand or eye could frame thy fearful symmetry?” He slid it into his mouth consideringly.
Rising to the challenge, the Doctor put down his screwdriver and pulled out another for himself—a bear this time.
“Exit,” he pronounced, wiggling it at the Master, “pursued by a.” He popped it into his mouth, satisfied.
“You know, the Master said in a meditative tone, drawing the next cracker, “It is easier for a camel," and so it was, a little biscuit dromedary, "to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.” There was a late Venusian proverb that would have been exceedingly clever there, but that wasn't the game they were playing. They were racing each other deeper into a chosen canon. They were tracing timelines backwards. They were following one another back to their co-mingled boyhood, reawakening the teasing contests and deadly serious affections of an earlier era.
The Master accompanied his faux-ponderous declaration by wrapping his fingers around the Doctor’s shoulder. To the Doctor, the motion was like that of a spider curling around its prey. Balling it up in silk to keep it safe and warm and just exactly where it was. Of course, spiders intend to consume entirely what they devoted so much time to preparing. Spiders killed with such care, only to liquefy what they’d caught and suck away its body, its essence, until it had nothing more to give.
The image of the Master’s mouth on him, draining him dry, taking everything it could, leaving the Doctor spent and empty, was both overwhelmingly erotic and terrifying.
That was the essence of his former dearest friend, his current partner—that frision of danger, that catch-me-if-you-can spark that made the Doctor do the stupidest things just to impress him, just to be near him, just to show him up, just to make him angry.
Ultimately it was why he’d left the Master. Not because the Master had gone too far—though even then the Doctor could see the day coming, had seen it coming for years. He hadn’t liked the person he was with the Master; arrogant and careless of others, careless of anything but the Master. The Doctor had seen the collapse of binary systems—stars stealing light from each other in great fiery gulps, collapsing into black holes, rotating faster and faster into oblivion, beautiful and grotesque. He didn’t wait around to find out which one of them would end up the smaller star in a gravity-war. And maybe he was a coward, but the Doctor didn’t want to die like that.
But he could so rarely stop himself while within the sphere of the Master's influence, and having gotten away once, he wasn’t at all sure of his ability to escape that heavy, relentlessly attractive pull again. Drawing a lion, the Doctor swallowed. He looked around at the interior of his own console room—and now that he was trapped it looked so drab, so thoroughly uninspiring, where before it had always been the wonderful threshold of his next adventure. Placing the cookie on his tongue and sliding his hand along the Master’s black jacket even as he looked away from him, the Doctor muttered “the honey in the lion.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” the Master muttered, drawing close, catching the Doctor’s hand with his own, pressing his lips against the Doctor's, “You nasty, uncouth man.”
He swept his tongue abruptly into the Doctor’s mouth, tasting sugar and shortening, oil of lemon and the Doctor’s first reluctant, then engaging tongue. What he could taste of the biscuit in the Doctor’s mouth was not too sweet. More like a communion wafer or a bit of bread than a proper biscuit—like something substantive and necessary and a touch whimsical—and it suited the Doctor.
The Doctor pressed him off, lightly. “We’ve finished off the box,” he muttered like an excuse, like a reason to stop, like he’d thought the better of this. Oh no. Honey in the lion, the Doctor had started it.
“I’m not near finished with you.” The Master’s eyes glinted hard, and his smile grew dangerous.
“If you were an animal,” teasing, taunting, threatening, the Master whispered it into the Doctor’s ear, silky and durable like a vow, “I would hunt you down. I would eat you and steal your very atoms. I would wear your skin around my own. I would mount you,” here a pelvic thrust, so the Doctor could feel the pun, a hand on his side, gripping—never a touch from him that wasn’t slightly startling, “up against the wall in my favorite room. One I never let anyone else go into, and I could, I would, just look at you every day. I would keep you as a pet. I would tame you. I would be patient, until you’d rejoice at my caresses and eat from my hand and sleep at my side. And you’d love me and call me your Master, and if I opened your cage you’d refuse to run.” The Master smiled, slow and sleek, at the Doctor’s frightened expression. “How does that sound, Doctor?”
“Stop it,” the Doctor hissed, “You stop that this instant,”
The Master laughed, tight and joyful. The Doctor was such a delightful coward this time around. He wanted to terrify and protect him, exhaust and replenish him.
“Never,” the Master promised, and he kissed him, hungry and without a trace of sympathy like the animals they were under their titles, under the names they hid beneath them: like wounds concealed below fresh scabs. Despite the post-biological pretences of their high-end bodies, below the twining veins that coddled all four of their hearts like vines around buildings, they were simple creatures really, whether the Doctor was willing to admit to it or not. And like a tamed animal himself, the Master would cleave to him in sleep later that night when they were done fucking and he’d exhausted the excuse of need and want and pleasure that he used to justify, for however long it would hold, his desire to be inside the Doctor, always.
Rating: PG-13
Author:
x_losPairing: Two/War Chief!Master
Prompt: 25-Animal Crackers, from
best_enemies' table challengeBeta:
aralias is v. proud that I can now correctly use quotation marks. And it only took what, six months?Summary: Biscuits, obsession, astrophysics and sexgames. A twisty little Season 6b ficlet: weird and dark and yes, heavily reliant on the prompt.
A/N: Cookies are Barnum’s Animals for the 53 varieties, not Cadburys, because they have but 5 creatures among them and less elaborate distinguishing features. Sorry for this Americanism: make a better cracker, Britons, and Two will nomnom it.
Quotes are 1) "The Tyger," from William Blake's "Songs of Experience," 2) a stage direction from The Winter's Tale, by Shakespeare, 3) Matthew 19:24, New Testament and 4) from the Sefer Shoftim account of Samson in the Tanakh.
Title is from "Animal Crackers In My Soup"(Curly Top 1935).
"When I get hold of the big bad wolf
I just push him under to drown
Then I bite him in a million bits
And I gobble him right down"
--Animal Crackers In My Soup
(Curly Top 1935)
“Animal crackers in my soup,” the Doctor sang to himself as he used his sonic screwdriver to fiddle with his TARDIS’s controls. He paused to select one biscuit from the open cardboard box beside him. He looked at it briefly, squinted to determine it was, in fact, a wee rhino, and then shoved it in his mouth before continuing with the verse, chewing his way through the bar, “Monkeys (CRUNCH) and raaaabits loop the loop.”
The Master smoothed his goatee. Waiting for the CIA to send dispatches was akin to waiting for Godot some days—though the temporal mechanics of interminability were always dodgy in the Vortex, where they lingered in closely-monitored dry-dock between missions. At least he had company this time, not like that never-ending, plodding affair with the War Lords. And thankfully the Doctor’s calling in the High Council hadn’t resulted in their mutual annihilation.
The CIA apparently found him--well, them, from the looks of the current arrangement--more valuable than the Master had imagined they might. It seemed they weren't expendable, or at least that they were useful enough that the CIA could be bothered to cover for the Master and arrange a reprieve for the Doctor. Which was impressive, as the High Council had been eager to kill both the operative and the interloper in a fit of pique over not having been made aware of the War Lords' ambitions earlier.
“Whatever could that noise you're making be?” The Master, hands folded over one another and perched on his right knee, sat sideways in a chair he’d ordered the TARDIS to add to the console room. He watched the Doctor work with a slight, crooked smile.
“Er,” the Doctor pushed his tongue over his teeth, running it to the back molars and resting it there, pressed against his cheek. It was such an idiosyncratic gesture of embarrassment that the Master couldn’t help but find it amusing. “It’s from "Curly Top," actually.”
“Ah,” the Master snickered, “Didn’t your mother play that for your sisters? During one of our breaks? I seem to have forgotten the music, somehow," and lead was not as thick as his sarcasm, "Yet I remember it being generally terrible. Though if I recall correctly, it does end in a character with rather unlikely hair saying “Oh my word!” Perhaps I’m finally beginning to grasp the inspiration behind this rather esoteric regeneration of yours.”
“Kindly shush up and have a cracker, hm?” The Doctor raised one dark eyebrow and shook the bright red box at the Master, who unwound himself from the chair with feline grace and approached, suspiciously selecting one cookie from the box and examining it thoroughly.
“Tyger, tyger, burning bright, in the forest of the night.” The Master twirled the little biscuit by the tail between his thumb and forefinger. “What immortal hand or eye could frame thy fearful symmetry?” He slid it into his mouth consideringly.
Rising to the challenge, the Doctor put down his screwdriver and pulled out another for himself—a bear this time.
“Exit,” he pronounced, wiggling it at the Master, “pursued by a.” He popped it into his mouth, satisfied.
“You know, the Master said in a meditative tone, drawing the next cracker, “It is easier for a camel," and so it was, a little biscuit dromedary, "to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.” There was a late Venusian proverb that would have been exceedingly clever there, but that wasn't the game they were playing. They were racing each other deeper into a chosen canon. They were tracing timelines backwards. They were following one another back to their co-mingled boyhood, reawakening the teasing contests and deadly serious affections of an earlier era.
The Master accompanied his faux-ponderous declaration by wrapping his fingers around the Doctor’s shoulder. To the Doctor, the motion was like that of a spider curling around its prey. Balling it up in silk to keep it safe and warm and just exactly where it was. Of course, spiders intend to consume entirely what they devoted so much time to preparing. Spiders killed with such care, only to liquefy what they’d caught and suck away its body, its essence, until it had nothing more to give.
The image of the Master’s mouth on him, draining him dry, taking everything it could, leaving the Doctor spent and empty, was both overwhelmingly erotic and terrifying.
That was the essence of his former dearest friend, his current partner—that frision of danger, that catch-me-if-you-can spark that made the Doctor do the stupidest things just to impress him, just to be near him, just to show him up, just to make him angry.
Ultimately it was why he’d left the Master. Not because the Master had gone too far—though even then the Doctor could see the day coming, had seen it coming for years. He hadn’t liked the person he was with the Master; arrogant and careless of others, careless of anything but the Master. The Doctor had seen the collapse of binary systems—stars stealing light from each other in great fiery gulps, collapsing into black holes, rotating faster and faster into oblivion, beautiful and grotesque. He didn’t wait around to find out which one of them would end up the smaller star in a gravity-war. And maybe he was a coward, but the Doctor didn’t want to die like that.
But he could so rarely stop himself while within the sphere of the Master's influence, and having gotten away once, he wasn’t at all sure of his ability to escape that heavy, relentlessly attractive pull again. Drawing a lion, the Doctor swallowed. He looked around at the interior of his own console room—and now that he was trapped it looked so drab, so thoroughly uninspiring, where before it had always been the wonderful threshold of his next adventure. Placing the cookie on his tongue and sliding his hand along the Master’s black jacket even as he looked away from him, the Doctor muttered “the honey in the lion.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” the Master muttered, drawing close, catching the Doctor’s hand with his own, pressing his lips against the Doctor's, “You nasty, uncouth man.”
He swept his tongue abruptly into the Doctor’s mouth, tasting sugar and shortening, oil of lemon and the Doctor’s first reluctant, then engaging tongue. What he could taste of the biscuit in the Doctor’s mouth was not too sweet. More like a communion wafer or a bit of bread than a proper biscuit—like something substantive and necessary and a touch whimsical—and it suited the Doctor.
The Doctor pressed him off, lightly. “We’ve finished off the box,” he muttered like an excuse, like a reason to stop, like he’d thought the better of this. Oh no. Honey in the lion, the Doctor had started it.
“I’m not near finished with you.” The Master’s eyes glinted hard, and his smile grew dangerous.
“If you were an animal,” teasing, taunting, threatening, the Master whispered it into the Doctor’s ear, silky and durable like a vow, “I would hunt you down. I would eat you and steal your very atoms. I would wear your skin around my own. I would mount you,” here a pelvic thrust, so the Doctor could feel the pun, a hand on his side, gripping—never a touch from him that wasn’t slightly startling, “up against the wall in my favorite room. One I never let anyone else go into, and I could, I would, just look at you every day. I would keep you as a pet. I would tame you. I would be patient, until you’d rejoice at my caresses and eat from my hand and sleep at my side. And you’d love me and call me your Master, and if I opened your cage you’d refuse to run.” The Master smiled, slow and sleek, at the Doctor’s frightened expression. “How does that sound, Doctor?”
“Stop it,” the Doctor hissed, “You stop that this instant,”
The Master laughed, tight and joyful. The Doctor was such a delightful coward this time around. He wanted to terrify and protect him, exhaust and replenish him.
“Never,” the Master promised, and he kissed him, hungry and without a trace of sympathy like the animals they were under their titles, under the names they hid beneath them: like wounds concealed below fresh scabs. Despite the post-biological pretences of their high-end bodies, below the twining veins that coddled all four of their hearts like vines around buildings, they were simple creatures really, whether the Doctor was willing to admit to it or not. And like a tamed animal himself, the Master would cleave to him in sleep later that night when they were done fucking and he’d exhausted the excuse of need and want and pleasure that he used to justify, for however long it would hold, his desire to be inside the Doctor, always.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-07-12 08:57 am (UTC)This bit here:
"The Doctor had seen the collapse of binary systems—stars stealing light from each other in great fiery gulps, collapsing into black holes, rotating faster and faster into oblivion, beautiful and grotesque. He didn’t wait around to find out which one of them would end up the smaller star in a gravity-war."
Love that. Also the line: "I would eat you and steal your very atoms." *shudder* Also, I may never be able to eat animal crackers again without thinking of this story.
no subject
Date: 2008-07-12 02:40 pm (UTC)Man, me and astrophysics imagery otp, apparently.
Your animal crackers experience is going to be much less of the nostalgic childhood innocence, if that is so. :p
no subject
Date: 2008-07-12 10:36 am (UTC)I would wear your skin around my own.
I love that metaphor so much.
no subject
Date: 2008-07-12 02:23 pm (UTC)WarChief!Master is the worst roommate ever, apparently. Well, the scariest.
And WarChief!Master is scary, always deadly serious even when he's laughing and joking.
I like that creepy intensity he has in canon: that sort of smooth, smiling, lurking-tight-craziness-around-the-eyes vibe. He's so much less collected and unguarded/funny than D!Master that I can see them being the same character? But it is a fair jump. Maybe Two calms his ass down in this universe.
From how freaking long it extended, you can see that I liked it too... and that final sentence is German in proportions...
no subject
Date: 2008-07-12 02:58 pm (UTC)WarChief!Master is the worst roommate ever, apparently.
Every other D/M would arrange themselves somehow and maybe even enjoy it a little, wouldn't they? I don't get enjoying-vibes from Two here, and for a good reason.
no subject
Date: 2008-07-12 03:09 pm (UTC)Oh yeah, even like, Six/Ainley!M would yell at each other and love it. And some of them would get on like a house on fire, so more than a little. (Surprisingly someone wrote a convincing drabble with Six/Delgado!M, which led me to believe they could get alone, and that really really surprised me.) But War Chief!Master is...not over that break up. Really not.
Incidentally, I meant to say, even though it's kind of 6B canon? I think the Trapped!AUGH! vibe in this totally comes from betaing your fic. Way to be in my subconscious, there. :)
no subject
Date: 2008-07-12 07:51 pm (UTC)See, audios have convinced me that Six can be perfectly nice and agreeable if he *respects* someone. So that could work just fine with Delgado!Master.
no subject
Date: 2008-07-12 12:27 pm (UTC)love how adorable and scared and deeply interested two is in the whole thing (perhaps the reason there is so little two/master - apart from the obvious reasons like they didn't ever meet and two has silly hair - is that he's not really able to handle the master in the way that, say, three is), and the doctor's reason for leaving the master which is so much better than 'and then the master got really evil and the doctor thought - hmm, this is going to be a problem'.
i love - this movement: sliding his hand along the Master’s black jacket even as he looked away from him.
also amused by the master pressing his lips against the Doctors’ even though i know it was a typo, because - love across time and regenerations!
all good. though my god/i> that final sentence is long. good, but far too long, don't we think?
no subject
Date: 2008-07-12 02:14 pm (UTC)I need to watch more Two as well, having seen all of four things with him in, two of which were specials. I really like him! ...but yeah, I can see why there aren't buckets of slash. Plus, Jamie/Two fans are legion, so. I have nothing against that, mind, but for my it's the new (old?) Doctor/Adric, a la 'isn't he awfully young?' and 'hm. apparently ho-yay does naught for me.'
sliding his hand along the Master’s black jacket even as he looked away from him.
Avoiding!Ambivalent!Two is both avoiding and ambivalent.
Oooooh. Um. Yes. That is a v. v. romantic typo.
I was trying to figure out how to parse the thing down into clauses, and then I was like 'noooooo fuckitall I'm going to sleep. I bequeath my f-list this unending metaphor-chain, in manner or Erasure song, or Fleetwood Mac. It is pretty but fat.'
no subject
Date: 2008-07-12 06:16 pm (UTC)ah. i've just got the metaphor too! don't let people tell you i'm stupid. i've got it. very clever... *Grins* ho hum. it seems very very unfair actually for me to arrive and have a go at your sentences given my past life, but never mind. actually this one's pretty excusable, as it's not long because of interlocking clauses - it's just building up.
... actually i've just looked at it again and i see that it is broken up. but just by turning all the commas into full stops which is cheating a bit :p
never mind.
doctor/adric is.. unappealing, though i do kind of like adric and i think the doctor likes him best and he does have that whine in earthshock about how the doctor keeps going off with the pretty ones, so i suppose its plausible. but then five's tardis a big mess of potential ships really (not even including the doctor sometimes - black orchid made me want adric/nyssa a bit), with him sort of wandering around vaguely pretending not to notice/that he is asexual, completely asexual, absolutely 100% asex- look please don't hug me, have... have an awkward pat instead. yes, there we go. asexual, you see. oh dear...
four/adric is just creepy beyond all reason so we won't even go there.
two/jamie is lovely, but very ten/rose. i'm happy to know that it's there, but from a distance.
this is a very long comment. i'll go now.
no subject
Date: 2008-07-13 12:08 pm (UTC)Do not blaspheme! Erm...what I mean is, you did not just compare Jamie to Adric!
Moving on, yes there is quite an age difference, but the chemestry between them is undeniable (whatever went on there I do not know). Jamie is young, but he's not a child and he matures greatly during his travels with the Doctor.
no subject
Date: 2008-07-13 02:46 pm (UTC)nd I should probably watch more of that era, both because I've really liked what I've seen of it, and because I /don't/ really know enough to say with authority that yes, I see that chemistry or I don't or I see the maturation arc/the light re: Two/Jamie or no, I still don't get it.
No hating on your ship! Just reserving judgment so far. :p
no subject
Date: 2008-07-12 02:16 pm (UTC)Oh, and if a spider's liquified its prey's entire insides, it's not just sucking blood, is it?
Hmmm. This means somebody else has to use the Marx Bros. movie....
The binary star system bit was brilliant! As was the idea of Master as spider, especially the conclusion.
no subject
Date: 2008-07-12 02:30 pm (UTC)...you know what sounds less romantically vampiric than 'blood' though? 'Creamy, creamy internal organs.' ...I was thinking at the time that was cheap of me, actually, but 'his goostuffs' kills the hawt. Unless it's Goosnake!Master, which is always sooooo sexy.
Oh yeah, someone should! ...Doctor probably looooooves Marx Bros films.
The spider thing is at least partially die to watching Three die the other day and borrowing that imagery. Though the whole way in which spiders kill must be especially creep-tacular to poor 'I hate being trapped and rendered powerless' Three, come to think. Omg. Wow. Actually I like that episode way better if his fear of death is a simultaneous fear of the confinement and powerlessness that characterized this era of his life. Thanks, train of thought!
no subject
Date: 2008-07-12 02:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-12 02:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-12 02:36 pm (UTC)Spider-Master. The characterisation/imagery/erotica in that bit was exquisite.
The Doctor not liking himself when he was with the Master as his reason for leaving.
The Master wanting to be inside the Doctor, always
no subject
Date: 2008-07-12 02:47 pm (UTC)Speaking of MO for leaving, there should be a riftfic challenge sometime at b_e. I bet people could come up with a lot of unusual/interesting reasons and timelines for the split either as friends/lovers.
The Master wanting to be inside the Doctor, always
And here we are again at "my weirdly obsessive/creepy eroticism, let me show u it." :p
Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2008-07-12 03:29 pm (UTC)The image of the Master’s mouth on him, draining him dry, taking everything it could, leaving the Doctor spent and empty, was both overwhelmingly erotic and terrifying.
Yes. Yes it is. GUH!
And you’d love me and call me your Master, and if I opened your cage you’d refuse to run.” The Master smiled, slow and sleek, at the Doctor’s frightened expression. “How does that sound, Doctor?”
*squeaks* Sounds good to me!
no subject
Date: 2008-07-12 03:40 pm (UTC)But yeah, we don't need them to be pretty, though it's nice--we're here for the fucked up intense. *high five*
*squeaks* Sounds good to me!
See, 'How does that sound
wanna love my creepster!ness, baby?' here is like the early, primitive cave-drawing version of 'It's Good Isn't It?' for me.no subject
Date: 2008-07-12 04:08 pm (UTC)'How does that sound
wanna love my creepster!ness, baby?'here is like the early, primitive cave-drawing version of 'It's Good Isn't It?' for me.It took me awhile to stop laughing when I read this.
no subject
Date: 2008-07-12 05:26 pm (UTC)*Mreow.*
Very nice Master/Two.
no subject
Date: 2008-07-12 06:01 pm (UTC)Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2008-07-12 06:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-12 11:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-13 04:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-13 12:11 am (UTC)i'm glad someone else thinks of the Master as a spider, i've had that mental image for a while. he does enjoy your juicy insides ;____;
...i used to sing that song as a kid. oh, the memories! animal crackers just got x1billion sexier, lols.
no subject
Date: 2008-07-13 04:43 am (UTC)oh man, the more people I can ruin that song/animal crackers for, the better! Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2008-07-13 12:21 pm (UTC)Sorry 'bout that. Lovely story and please write more. I love how you used the prompt in this. And as others mentioned the image of the Master as a spider and the binary system relationship - very much yes.
I belive I have some animal crackers around actually. *wonders off*
no subject
Date: 2008-07-13 02:57 pm (UTC)Yay! Thanks! I did feel kind of happily subversive doing darkfic from er, children's cookies, so there we are. And I am happy those images worked for people, I was kind of sitting there going like 'this is weeeird. I hope people don't think this is just self-indulgently annoying...' But yes. I'm happy that the dodgy imagistic sections seem well received!
Oh please wonder off in the future, it's so much effing cooler than wandering! :p
no subject
Date: 2008-07-15 10:00 pm (UTC)Animal crackers. Wow. Way to go about defiling my childhood. It's just lucky that as a fanficcer, that sort of thing amuses me. XD Seriously, though, I groove on the parallels between the poor deflowered animal crackers and sweet old Two, who occupies a similar position of fluffy innocuousness until the Master gets hold of both of them. (Though when I think about it too hard, that last line leads me to "creepster!Master wishes he were the Doctor's animal cracker!" for which I assign responsibility to either my sleep-deprivation or your sick sick mind.)
But probably the very worst effect of this fic is that I am now craving animal crackers, and even though it's for completely innocent reasons, I'm having trouble convincing my brain of that.
no subject
Date: 2008-07-15 10:20 pm (UTC)You know I didn't think about Two's innocence paralleled to that of animal crackers consciously? But it so, so works. I /wondered/ why I wanted Two/WarChief!M for this, there wasn't really an overwhelming plot reason, but my brain was like 'No, THEM.' And speaking of things I didn't consciously realize:
(Though when I think about it too hard, that last line leads me to "creepster!Master wishes he were the Doctor's animal cracker!" for which I assign responsibility to either my sleep-deprivation or your sick sick mind.)
...does this count as unintentional!vore in the way the cheetah thing might be unintentional!furry? B/c if so AUGH!! :C :C :C I totally wanted the vulnerability/dependency after the predatory, but womg, I knew not what I did, except at some level? I think I must have. x_x
Uh huh. Sure your craving, your NEED, is innocent. Go on. Eat a cracker. No, no really it's fine...
no subject
Date: 2008-07-16 03:33 pm (UTC)Can I come to the ventricle party? I'll bring animal crackers!
no subject
Date: 2008-07-16 04:21 pm (UTC)I dunno, it's kinda cramped in there, but if you bring the crackers, well, I don't know if I can say no to that...
no subject
Date: 2008-07-16 04:26 pm (UTC)A pun I'll hate myself for.
Date: 2008-07-16 04:28 pm (UTC)Re: A pun I'll hate myself for.
Date: 2008-07-16 05:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-11 10:15 pm (UTC)It's beautifully written. I love He hadn’t liked the person he was with the Master; arrogant and careless of others, careless of anything but the Master. The Doctor had seen the collapse of binary systems—stars stealing light from each other in great fiery gulps, collapsing into black holes, rotating faster and faster into oblivion, beautiful and grotesque. He didn’t wait around to find out which one of them would end up the smaller star in a gravity-war. It makes perfect sense as a description of their relationship, and why the Doctor would have pulled away.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-14 03:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-24 09:01 am (UTC)I do love Two/Jamie but that's primarily because I love Two/Anyone and Jamie's the easiest to rustle up general fannish enthusiasm for (and also because I'm in pathetic love with Jamie). But variety is for the win and you have made some v. brilliantly. I applauds! <3
no subject
Date: 2008-09-12 07:51 pm (UTC)Ah, Jamie. My love for him is platonic, but way strong.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-08 11:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-21 01:07 am (UTC)