emilie autumn

Getting Your Way...

 Jack couldn’t help but chuckle as Ianto whimpered and opened his eyes.

They had just been mid snog session, Jack having maneuvered Ianto up against a wall, pinning his arms against it as they moved together. Or, that’s what they had been doing.

Ianto glared at his lover as the older man kept his lips just out of reach, still holding him against the wall. “Jack!” he whined, straining against the vice like grip uselessly. The older man was like a rock, albeit a laughing one.

Resigned, the he slumped back against the wall. “Bastard.”

“Don’t I know it,” Jack grinned, leaning in closer but pulling back again when Ianto tried to reestablish lip contact.

The Welshman growled, which only served to further amuse the Captain, so he tried switching tactics. “C’mon Jack, please?”

“Hmmm, no I don’t think so. I like just looking at you, you’re beautiful,” Jack purred. It would have been quite complementary if Ianto hadn’t thought he was just saying that to irritate him further. Jack knew Ianto didn’t take complements well.

“Humph. We both know I can’t hold a candle to you,” the younger man insisted, tracing his lovers jaw line with his eyes.

“Flattery is not going to help you.”

“Then what if I call you an ugly wanker?

“You already tried insulting.”

Ianto pouted, already well aware that wouldn’t work either. His eyes flickered down. “Well, what if I offered to help you with the problem you seem to have growing?” Ianto tried, offering a mischievous smile.

“Hmm, nope. Try again.” Jack grinned, loving the frustration growing in the younger man.

So whining, begging, compliments, insults, and offering sexual favors didn’t work. It really only left the Welshman one idea. He fixed a calm, steady gaze at the Captain. “You’ll get only decaf for a week.”

Jack gasped in what you might have thought was false horror, but it was quite real. Ianto had done that once before and it had been horrible, not just for the Captain but for everyone who’d had to deal with a cranky Jack. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

Jack leaned in a bit closer, lips barley a millimeter out of reach. “Don’t suppose I can still get that ‘help’ then?”

“Sorry sir lost your opportunity.”

“Damn.”

The Captain released Ianto, who immediately crashed their lips back together, not minding in the slightest then Jack slammed him back into the wall, as long as they kept kissing.
emilie autumn

Tension

 Do you know how irritating that is?

We’re all snugly, the aftermath of our usual antics, and you just look at me with those eyes. I can see them glance down at my lips and back to my eyes. I know you can see mine do the same.

And then you turn away.

You do that multiple times, everyday. We’ll laugh at something Owen did or make a comment about how caring Gwen or Tosh is and then just look at each other for that awkward moment. Never mind what goes on in bed.

I know you can feel our noses brushing, your eyes flutter down to my mouth, and you turn your back to me again, rolling over as if it were the most casual thing in the world.

Would you just kiss me already? I know you want to. I want you to. But you won’t, I know you won’t. You’ll just keep on chatting like you didn’t feel it. Like you don’t feel it.

Because I’m just a shag, and kissing is too personal.
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emilie autumn

Dying to See You Again...

Disclaimer: I own nothing sadly... I'm just a girl with an obsession for scifi and nothing to do late at night

Dying To See You Again...

 Urgent kisses, pulling hands, needing, needing, NEEDING…

With a gasp Jack Harkness was thrown back into life, shuddering as his surrounding filled in. Right. He needed to be more careful whom he played poker with, best a Chula and they’d decide you were cheating then and there. They liked cheaters about as much as they liked losing.

He shook his head, staggering to his feet. He needed something other than alcohol, he even, for a moment there, had thought someone had been in the darkness with him…

~*~

Need, need, NEED! There was a mouth on his, warm and pressing.

But that wasn’t right… not here in the darkness, not when he was dead, for however short a time… Hands came up to wrap around him and pull him against a horribly familiar body…


Water poured out of his lungs and back into the sink, leaving him gagging. “Well? Where did you put it?” the harsh voice was gravely, coming from a throat more accustomed to subtle growls.

“Go to hell.” back into the water….

Jack, Jack! They weren’t words, not exactly, but despite the ever-pressing silence of the darkness his name hung there. Grabbing hands. Fear. Jack, please…

Air filled his lungs as the water poured back out. “Well? Do we have to kill you again?”

He shuddered as the cold hands tossed him on the ground, and he looked up to glare into bright yellow feelers… he wasn’t sure where the eyes were. They scuttled out of the room without explanation, and the immortal took a moment to try and focus on what he couldn’t believe he was about to do…. But… if there was a chance…

He rose shakily to his feet and thrust his head back into the water.

He tried to say something, anything, it but the words died in the surrounding blackness. Hello? He thought, and suddenly there was something warm wrapping its arms around him. Fear. Loss.

Jack, Jack please. Don’t leave again.

I don’t have a choice.


~*~

You shot yourself again, didn’t you? the relief in the words killed any scolding effect they may have had. Love. Sadness. Jack still couldn’t believe he was there waiting for him whenever he died, just as he had waited before, when waited for him to wake up…

I couldn’t leave you alone in the dark.

You always have to leave. You know that.

I’ll come back. I always do.
Déjà vu. Irony.


The familiar sensation; getting dragged across glass, and silence, not in his ears but in his heart as the darkness faded again. Jack gasped and reached for the gun.

~*~

You need to stop. Soft grateful kisses contradicted his words. This isn’t healthy Jack. You can’t keep killing yourself just to see me.

Why not? It works doesn’t it? Hurried kisses. Who knows how long he’d stay dead?

Jack. You’re alive. You need to live. The kisses stopped and were it not for the blank darkness the Captain knew he’d be receiving a steady glare.

How am I supposed to live without you when I know you’re there, just out of reach?

Because you must, and I’ll be here for you when you die.
Sadness. Acceptance. Love.

But…

“No, no, no NO!” Jack coughed and hacked, rolling over and shutting his eyes tight. He was right. This wasn’t healthy. All the same…

Oh Jack….

~*~

No. No more. The warm presence pulled away, leaving Jack horribly alone in the darkness.

Come back! No, no
please! Love. Warmth. Reassurance. Sadness. Still he couldn’t feel his lover’s presence anywhere around him.

I’m so, so sorry Jack, but I can’t deal with you killing yourself over and over for me. I know how much it hurts when you go back. Guilt.

It’s worth it.

You have to move on. You can’t live to die it’s contradictive. Live your endless life Captain Jack Harkness; just know that when it kills you I’ll be here. I love you. And then they were wrapped around each other again, comforting,
until Jack was once again ripped away and chucked back into life, gasping for air.


“Ianto.”
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emilie autumn

Of Something and Nothing

Once upon a time is a very vague sort of beginning, don't you think? Which time, the nature of the time, and whether it was fluxing, failing, or deteriorating aren't included in that description, and "once" simply implies that whatever coincidental meeting of groups of particles only happened this one time. So, I'm going to be more specific for you.

Once, though perhaps it happened again in another galaxy of nothing unknown to me, upon a time in which there wasn't time at all, when time moved neither forwards nor backwards, in fact, it didn't move because it didn't exist, and not existing it also didn't flux, fail, or deteriorate. For how can nothing deteriorate? What would i deteriorate into? What would be left? These are all important question I simply won't answer, because I can't. I'm not nothing, and so I can't possibly know the answers. Now, getting back to the story.

So, in this nothing, a boy appeared. Now, you may say that's impossible, as only nothing comes from nothing, and you'd be right. It is impossible. However the boy looked around him and blinked. Time existed then, since it took time to go through those actions, and with the newly appeared time flying out to touch all corners of the nothing, the boy stood.

So you are probably wondering if he is the good or the evil of this story, but you would see the issue with your thinking is that at the time there was just the boy, and nothing. Your ideas of good and evil are relative, and in the nothing, there was nothing to be relative to.

The boy in the nothing could not feel, since there was nothing to feel, and couldn't think, with nothing to think about. However, when he inhaled, since that is a necessary bodily function and instinctual, the lack of air meant he inhaled nothing. And the nothing reacted with his body in a few strange ways.

For one, it shone in his eyes, making them bright, creating bright. And next it entered his lungs and flied into each capillary and was transported into his blood, which started to exist as he inhaled. When the nothing did so, it created red, and that meant color. Color then existed in the nothing, and the nothing realized that it was a black sort of nothing. It was pleased with that, and pleased with the boy who had helped it realize this and encircled him. There is nothing nothing likes more than something, though until it decided this there was no such thing as liking, or as deciding. The boy was the only something to be had.

And he breathed out. He breathed out the color that had turned his blood red, but coming out of his mouth it was violet, and it swirled patterns as the nothing gobbled it down. Something strange about something: something is something, and nothing is nothing. They can turn into each other only when there is less of one. Of course, in the newly spanning time there was far more nothing than something. And the boy breathed in and out again.

This time he exhaled air, soft white air with its carbon dioxide and traced of oxygen and nitrogen. It drifted up and expanded in the nothing. And as it expanded, it condensed, until a soft white and violet haze hung about the boy. So he stood up, and he started to walk. The nothing danced about his feet in a soft green and brown haze, jumping up to meet him like a puppy. And the air turned blue with the distance, hardening into a thick haze of sky.

So the boy found himself without nothing for the first time. There was something all around him. Air, grass, earth. Expanding on and on into an orb surrender by nothing, eating at it and growing. The purple haze stayed around the boy. It was saturated with the nothing, since it was the first something to be outside of the boy, alone with the nothing. It wasn't quite something, but it certainly wasn't nothing. A violet haze around the boy. Magic.

And so the boy, watching a planet form around him, turned his gaze to the blue of the sky. He could sense the nothing beyond it, the back nothing that faded as the something ate away at it. Because there was still more nothing than something, and so the two forces attempted to find equilibrium by expanding the something. The boy was no longer necessary, his spark had lit a fire that raged through what would soon cease to be nothing and start to be the universe. However in using that spark to make the something, the nothing had effectively taken the boys life force with it as it faded, leaving him behind with nothing animating him. And this nothing was the wrong sort of nothing. The permanent kind. It could not be anything, ever. It would remain nothing. And so, though he existed, as the world started to form around him the boy really didn't exist, because he was nothing. So he watched on as more like him evolved from the nothing (which wanted to replicate its spark, for it was a wondrous original something) and walked the earth, for that's what they called it, Earth, and each person, for that's what they were called, was born in his image, full of nothing, because of course his spark couldn't be replicated, having not come from nothing to begin with, you see.

But unlike the nothing inside of him, in his swirling purple aura that was both something and nothing, yet neither, their nothing could be made into something. Emotions. Ideas. It came from their core of nothing. And so when it ran out, when they could no longer make something, they would fade, unlike the boy and his eternal nothing that could not be something.

So he walked the earth alone. Surrounded by his aura and filled with his nothing, watching it all pass him by, never acknowledging him because, since he was filled with nothing, he didn't exist to the creatures of something.