Even Geniuses Need Sleep by dragoncharmed, literature
Literature
Even Geniuses Need Sleep
A figure was hunched over the table, silhouetted by the light beside him. A pen hovered over the mass of papers spread out before him; his icy eyes stared, searching for something. Abruptly he sprang into action, whipping a sheet out from the mess (sending several pages fluttering down around him, but he took no notice) and scribbling furiously in a cramped, spidery hand. His eyes squinted with effort, although he didn't seem to notice. There was a feverish pitch to his work - his movements were too jerky and rushed, his face too intent, his eyes jumping from point to point, apparently unable to settle.
A second figure saw all of this from t
The Prince's Tale: Friends by dragoncharmed, literature
Literature
The Prince's Tale: Friends
Sunlight peeking through the trees dappled Lily's dark red hair and lit up her smile. She was leaning toward him slightly, intent on his every word. Severus was happy as he explained to her, answered every question, told her whatever she wanted to know about the wizarding world. It didn't matter that their encounter in the playground had gone wrong, because without Petunia there to jeer, Lily had been willing to listen to it, willing to believe. Of course she had. She was special, and he got to tell her that. And now...Everything was perfect.
"...and the Ministry can punish you if you do magic outside school, you get letters."
"But I have d
The Prince's Tale: Lily by dragoncharmed, literature
Literature
The Prince's Tale: Lily
The sky was blue today, and the air was warm. The playground was deserted, apart from her. Her and her sister. Crouched behind a bush, he watched her, watched the way her red hair flew out behind her as she swung higher on the swings, and wished, for the hundredth time, that he could be out there with her. She didn't know what she was. Lily Evans didn't know she was a witch, but Severus did, and he figured, if he told her that she had magic, she'd be friends with him. There weren't any other wizards around here, so she'd come to him, and he'd tell her everything, and they'd be friends.
"Lily, don't do it!"
Lily was flying, and she was laugh
The Prince's Tale: Helpless by dragoncharmed, literature
Literature
The Prince's Tale: Helpless
They were at it again.
He huddled in a shadowy corner of the dirty room, hands clamped over his ears, but it didn't keep him from being able to hear every word his father was shouting. Risking a peek through his matted black hair, he saw Father advancing upon Mother, yelling horrible things at her. Mother was cowering away from him, pleading, and Severus squeezed his eyes shut again, gritting his teeth against the sob that rose up in his throat. Mother, use your wand, fight back, curse him! he wanted to beg, but he couldn't let so much as a whimper escape him or Father would hear, would remember that he was there, and would come at him inste
Hatching Day
On the Sands in morning late
Two dozen eggs made hard await,
And nestled near the mother queen
Rests one with a golden sheen.
For many days and many nights
They hardened till the time was right
To break the shell and find the one
To share their mind till life was done.
Now on this morn the queen awakes
To see her eggs riddled with shakes,
And 'round the Weyr her joyful call:
Come see my children, one and all!
The Weyr alive with pounding drums
And running feet and chest-deep hums,
Candidates must take their place
And hope to see their Lifemate's face.
Riders, Weyrfolk, all around
Fill the stands with their sound
Even Geniuses Need Sleep by dragoncharmed, literature
Literature
Even Geniuses Need Sleep
A figure was hunched over the table, silhouetted by the light beside him. A pen hovered over the mass of papers spread out before him; his icy eyes stared, searching for something. Abruptly he sprang into action, whipping a sheet out from the mess (sending several pages fluttering down around him, but he took no notice) and scribbling furiously in a cramped, spidery hand. His eyes squinted with effort, although he didn't seem to notice. There was a feverish pitch to his work - his movements were too jerky and rushed, his face too intent, his eyes jumping from point to point, apparently unable to settle.
A second figure saw all of this from t
The Prince's Tale: Friends by dragoncharmed, literature
Literature
The Prince's Tale: Friends
Sunlight peeking through the trees dappled Lily's dark red hair and lit up her smile. She was leaning toward him slightly, intent on his every word. Severus was happy as he explained to her, answered every question, told her whatever she wanted to know about the wizarding world. It didn't matter that their encounter in the playground had gone wrong, because without Petunia there to jeer, Lily had been willing to listen to it, willing to believe. Of course she had. She was special, and he got to tell her that. And now...Everything was perfect.
"...and the Ministry can punish you if you do magic outside school, you get letters."
"But I have d
The Prince's Tale: Lily by dragoncharmed, literature
Literature
The Prince's Tale: Lily
The sky was blue today, and the air was warm. The playground was deserted, apart from her. Her and her sister. Crouched behind a bush, he watched her, watched the way her red hair flew out behind her as she swung higher on the swings, and wished, for the hundredth time, that he could be out there with her. She didn't know what she was. Lily Evans didn't know she was a witch, but Severus did, and he figured, if he told her that she had magic, she'd be friends with him. There weren't any other wizards around here, so she'd come to him, and he'd tell her everything, and they'd be friends.
"Lily, don't do it!"
Lily was flying, and she was laugh
The Prince's Tale: Helpless by dragoncharmed, literature
Literature
The Prince's Tale: Helpless
They were at it again.
He huddled in a shadowy corner of the dirty room, hands clamped over his ears, but it didn't keep him from being able to hear every word his father was shouting. Risking a peek through his matted black hair, he saw Father advancing upon Mother, yelling horrible things at her. Mother was cowering away from him, pleading, and Severus squeezed his eyes shut again, gritting his teeth against the sob that rose up in his throat. Mother, use your wand, fight back, curse him! he wanted to beg, but he couldn't let so much as a whimper escape him or Father would hear, would remember that he was there, and would come at him inste
Doesn't Follow Me Everywhere by JanecShannon, literature
Literature
Doesn't Follow Me Everywhere
Summary: "He doesn't follow me everywhere, you know." ~John Watson, ASiB
Oh, silly Jawn... Of course he does (what with your penchant for getting kidnapped...)
"And the beans?"
"I'll get them."
Afterward, John says he doesn't remember what happened. He was walking to Sarah's then the next thing he knew he was in a changing cubicle at the pool and being told through an earpiece to go out and greet the detective. Any deviation from the words he's told to say would result in death.
But Sherlock can spot a lie when he sees one. John's always had one of those faces that seems to show every thought that passes through his head, but for once Sherl
England falls, a downwards plummeting sensation that is brought abruptly to a halt when he hits plush, plum-coloured carpet. And there, in front of him, settled in a ghastly blue floral armchair, dressed in a pink shirt and darker sweater, a wild grin on his lips, sits the mad hatter. “Hello. Care for some tea?”
He stares, and stares, for maybe a minute or more, and then gets to his feet. “Where am I?”
The mad hatter giggles. “Wonderland, of course. Care for some tea?” And with those seven words, he has won round one.
The walls of the room are covered in more flowers, the kind found in the lounges of
Not Remotely Important by Gallifrey-Pirate, literature
Literature
Not Remotely Important
The old man still looked up at the sky. Every night, when he had the chance, he would wrap up warm and take a flask of hot tea out to the seat beside his telescope. It was an act of tribute now. He had long since let go of the idle fancy that he would ever see that man, that most wonderful man again. Sometimes it was a truly bitter memory, another friend lost to war, and how he hoped that the poor creature, that ancient blazing angel had been wrong. Perhaps he was out there somewhere, fully recovered, too embarrassed to return. Too afraid?
Wilfred knew it was still dangerous. His granddaughter visited often, particularly when his bungalow wa
A Quick Pop to the Moon by lastcenturioness20, literature
Literature
A Quick Pop to the Moon
There was a typewriter on the console now--a typewriter--and at first he tried to type in his destination: E-A-(pecking with his two long index fingers at the flat little keys, marveling at the new knobbiness of his knuckles, at the new, inexplicable urge he felt to nibble at the cuticles)-R-T-H-(the 'H' was sticking slightly already; he made a little joke about how even the best cosmetic surgery cannot hide a woman's true age and then had to leap backwards with a yelp from a lever which suddenly and mysteriously fell of its own accord and rapped him smartly across his nice new knuckles)-M-O-O-N. As it turned out, however, the typewriter had
trapped in the box of my body by madis-hartte, literature
Literature
trapped in the box of my body
He is dying, which isn't something all that new. He's died before.
But this time it's permanent.
(he can't help but feel a vicious stab of glee at the thought)
Dying, lying on those stairs. Standing in the TARDIS, crying. Crash landing to Earth. Suicide. Murder. Tripping over his own two feet (that one had been embarrassing). Dying. Coming back. Each man a different facehere's a secret, the face doesn't mattereach man dying.
Some new man goes sauntering away. And I'm dead.
Everything I am dies.
It is strange. And you look back, just for a moment, and you see, and he sees, walking into the new face. Like salt, pouring from an
"Oh, you are beautiful!"
The title "Time Lord" implies a certain noble solemnity; on Earth, it would suggest fancy wine, musty libraries, marble statuary and long, echoing hallways. The being who would, later in his personal timeline, come to be known as the Doctor danced around the antique console with all the dignity and gravitas of a small child at Christmas.
"You like her?" asked his companion, stepping out of the way with a wary expression; when the not-yet-Doctor gets excited, he has a tendency to forget about everything but the object of his fixation, including anything that might get in his way. "I never cared for the Type 40 myself
Current Residence: Virginia MP3 player of choice: iPod Personal Quote: "Through writing, you are whoever you want to be. Through music, you are the purest form of yourself."
Favourite TV Shows
Doctor Who
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Chameleon Circuit
Favourite Books
Harry Potter, To Kill a Mockingbird, Paper Towns
Favourite Writers
JK Rowling, Mercedes Lackey, Orson Scott Card, John Green
But Sherlock/Watson is quickly becoming my OTP.
What is this.
(The new Sherlock was fantastic but Irene Adler why you all up in my OTP. I do not approve.)
and happy holidays and a wonderful new year :D I hope everyone gets everything they wanted!
Goodness, it's been a long time since I updated, hasn't it? Sorry about that.
In other news - Doctor Who Christmas special on tonight :D