I is for Ink, J is for Jugular
Title: The New-Comers
Fandom: Discworld
Pairing: Tilda/Magda
Claim: Discworld
Rating: PG
Word count: 200
Summary: After the end of Monstrous Regiment, our light-fingered girls have wandered to where all roads lead.
In Ankh-Morpork it's not the habit to ask questions, except to enquire if an individual felt lucky, was looking for a good time, or wanted ketchup with his rat, so Bob the innkeep didn't wonder how the young highlander women could afford to rent his best room when they couldn't so much as spell their names. Shorn hair, slouched figures, outsized trousers and swords, and they didn't look like adventuresses, but they had money, and it was as good as any other gold. Money in the Great City was all yours until someone took it.
They were learning to write, anyway; they visited the scribe across the road and came back each day with ink splotches on their hands and cuffs, talking in excited whispers. Well, that was fine. Eventually they'd have to find employment, because money soon left such young hands, and these days even licenced thieves needed some learning.
Bob had heard Annie the housekeeper grumble about ink on the intimate clothes put out for her to launder, and how it wasn't natural, but he paid her no mind; he bit each coin as he counted it and wished them well; after all, unnatural acts were only natural.
Title: Monstrous Drinking Games
Fandom: Discworld
Pairing: Sally/Angua
Claim: Discworld
Rating: PG
Word count: 250
Summary: Watchwomen on leave in a new city...
The undead bar in Verruta was nothing like Biers; Angua had never seen the place quite as gay and noisy.
They'd been four hours off-duty and had drunk altogether too much. The undead don't inebriate easily, but they'd managed it. Angua wondered briefly what she was doing on a tabletop, but then Sally was there, and a rhythmic shout went up all around them: "Dare! Dare!"
"I'm in," Sally murmured, and pressed her lips against Angua's neck. Sally's strong skinny arms held her still as she ran her tongue along the jugular, and Angua thought briefly of death and the ribbon, but then Sally let go and stepped back, gasping and grinning.
"Your turn," she said.
Sally seemed an apparition through the alcohol and the glitter of her heightened werewolf instincts: the familiar tension of their mismatched species. She thought of tearing and killing and, through years of training, this made her think of vegetarian dishes; cucumbers, salad, and blood, and Carrot, and hunger.
She lunged unsteadily forward and grabbed Sally's shoulders. Perhaps there was a flicker of uncertainty behind her eyes, a quiver in her excited grin. Angua nuzzled Sally's white neck (so cold), opened her mouth, teeth crazing the skin, beneath it a weak, forbidden flow…
She licked once up the length of the jugular, not biting, and this had been the dare: they had not bitten.
But as they drew apart, they were both shivering a great deal more than they'd have liked each other to know.
Fandom: Discworld
Pairing: Tilda/Magda
Claim: Discworld
Rating: PG
Word count: 200
Summary: After the end of Monstrous Regiment, our light-fingered girls have wandered to where all roads lead.
In Ankh-Morpork it's not the habit to ask questions, except to enquire if an individual felt lucky, was looking for a good time, or wanted ketchup with his rat, so Bob the innkeep didn't wonder how the young highlander women could afford to rent his best room when they couldn't so much as spell their names. Shorn hair, slouched figures, outsized trousers and swords, and they didn't look like adventuresses, but they had money, and it was as good as any other gold. Money in the Great City was all yours until someone took it.
They were learning to write, anyway; they visited the scribe across the road and came back each day with ink splotches on their hands and cuffs, talking in excited whispers. Well, that was fine. Eventually they'd have to find employment, because money soon left such young hands, and these days even licenced thieves needed some learning.
Bob had heard Annie the housekeeper grumble about ink on the intimate clothes put out for her to launder, and how it wasn't natural, but he paid her no mind; he bit each coin as he counted it and wished them well; after all, unnatural acts were only natural.
Title: Monstrous Drinking Games
Fandom: Discworld
Pairing: Sally/Angua
Claim: Discworld
Rating: PG
Word count: 250
Summary: Watchwomen on leave in a new city...
The undead bar in Verruta was nothing like Biers; Angua had never seen the place quite as gay and noisy.
They'd been four hours off-duty and had drunk altogether too much. The undead don't inebriate easily, but they'd managed it. Angua wondered briefly what she was doing on a tabletop, but then Sally was there, and a rhythmic shout went up all around them: "Dare! Dare!"
"I'm in," Sally murmured, and pressed her lips against Angua's neck. Sally's strong skinny arms held her still as she ran her tongue along the jugular, and Angua thought briefly of death and the ribbon, but then Sally let go and stepped back, gasping and grinning.
"Your turn," she said.
Sally seemed an apparition through the alcohol and the glitter of her heightened werewolf instincts: the familiar tension of their mismatched species. She thought of tearing and killing and, through years of training, this made her think of vegetarian dishes; cucumbers, salad, and blood, and Carrot, and hunger.
She lunged unsteadily forward and grabbed Sally's shoulders. Perhaps there was a flicker of uncertainty behind her eyes, a quiver in her excited grin. Angua nuzzled Sally's white neck (so cold), opened her mouth, teeth crazing the skin, beneath it a weak, forbidden flow…
She licked once up the length of the jugular, not biting, and this had been the dare: they had not bitten.
But as they drew apart, they were both shivering a great deal more than they'd have liked each other to know.