Sweet by danvers
May. 15th, 2005 04:05 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
ex-danvers514.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
sga_flashficTitle: Sweet
Author: danvers
Rating: PG-13?
Pairing: None
Summary: They taste sweet.
Sweet
They taste sweet.
She almost regrets that she has to feed with her hand and not her mouth, because she'd like to know the taste of a human in the throes of feeding. On her tongue. In her mouth. Licking lips. Is blood warmer in your mouth than on your hand? Does it taste better sucked with lips or being drawn up your arm, rushing through your veins? Either way, is there that same loud pounding of the heart in your ears?
Would it take longer to see into their minds? Or maybe it would take less time. Maybe it would take no time at all...
No...
Ah, there you are. Resistance. Good. Fight me. It's so much sweeter this way.
They come in flashes of dark and light. Memories that even the culled don't remember they have. People laughing. People crying. Anger. Happiness. Joy. Pain. All of it is there, in sharp colors. Bright and unusual. Is this how humans see with their human eyes and human minds?
Pretty.
They hate the Wraith. Well, of course they do. Why would the prey like the hunter? But it's the repulsion they feel that really hurts her. It's like a brief, sharp burn. She might even like it.
They don't like the appearance of the Wraith. They find it frightening. Displeasing. Unattractive.
She laughs. What funny little thoughts these humans have. While fearing for their lives, they still make time to consider whether the Wraith are pleasing to look at or not.
Home? Yes. Show me.
They always think of home in their last moments. Home and the ones they'll never see. Family gatherings.
Holding someone. Kissing someone with soft lips. Touching soft skin. Feeding off people, but not for food.
Love. Hate. Need. It's all in their hearts. Or at least that's what they think.
All that grief at dying they feel filters through and it's like being touched everywhere, fingers stroking from the inside out. Crawling, crawling, crawling.
So good. So heated.
She closes her eyes and lets her hand move harder against his chest, sucking him out, her hand burning, her veins on fire, ripples of heat cascading across her whole body.
No, he's thinking. Protesting. Fighting. Hiding.
Fight. Struggle.
But ultimately giving in.
No, it's too soon. Fight me. You do it so wonderfully.
There's no fight left. So she takes it all in one go.
She almost tastes it in her mouth, letting it open slightly, gasping a little.
And she laughs, because it makes you dizzy, all that life and all those memories. It's dark in her head, maybe a little musty too. These memories will shed some light. Bring some warmth.
The life can slip from them as fast or as slow as she wants. Their memories speed to childhood, while their bodies towards death. That's when the taste becomes bitter and stings her skin. She pulls her hand away and watches the feed fall to the floor, limp and empty. A dry old husk.
She takes a step away. They're not so attractive once they've fulfilled their purpose.
Lifting her dress delicately, so the hem won't touch the dead, she steps over him and walks regally to the table. She looks at the chair at the head of the table, still occupied by a previous meal. She waits and the body is quickly removed by a guard.
He's strong, the guard. So much stronger than humans. He must have fed on many. She wonders what it would be like, to take from him. All those memories. All those feelings. All that strength. And he is Wraith.
He would last so much longer.
Giving him a long look and smile, she sits down, bringing up her bloody hand and licking the remnants.
Sweet, but already too cool. Leaning back in her chair, she looks down the length of the table at her company of corpses.
"Bring me another," she says, still hungry.
Always hungry.
//end//
Author: danvers
Rating: PG-13?
Pairing: None
Summary: They taste sweet.
They taste sweet.
She almost regrets that she has to feed with her hand and not her mouth, because she'd like to know the taste of a human in the throes of feeding. On her tongue. In her mouth. Licking lips. Is blood warmer in your mouth than on your hand? Does it taste better sucked with lips or being drawn up your arm, rushing through your veins? Either way, is there that same loud pounding of the heart in your ears?
Would it take longer to see into their minds? Or maybe it would take less time. Maybe it would take no time at all...
No...
Ah, there you are. Resistance. Good. Fight me. It's so much sweeter this way.
They come in flashes of dark and light. Memories that even the culled don't remember they have. People laughing. People crying. Anger. Happiness. Joy. Pain. All of it is there, in sharp colors. Bright and unusual. Is this how humans see with their human eyes and human minds?
Pretty.
They hate the Wraith. Well, of course they do. Why would the prey like the hunter? But it's the repulsion they feel that really hurts her. It's like a brief, sharp burn. She might even like it.
They don't like the appearance of the Wraith. They find it frightening. Displeasing. Unattractive.
She laughs. What funny little thoughts these humans have. While fearing for their lives, they still make time to consider whether the Wraith are pleasing to look at or not.
Home? Yes. Show me.
They always think of home in their last moments. Home and the ones they'll never see. Family gatherings.
Holding someone. Kissing someone with soft lips. Touching soft skin. Feeding off people, but not for food.
Love. Hate. Need. It's all in their hearts. Or at least that's what they think.
All that grief at dying they feel filters through and it's like being touched everywhere, fingers stroking from the inside out. Crawling, crawling, crawling.
So good. So heated.
She closes her eyes and lets her hand move harder against his chest, sucking him out, her hand burning, her veins on fire, ripples of heat cascading across her whole body.
No, he's thinking. Protesting. Fighting. Hiding.
Fight. Struggle.
But ultimately giving in.
No, it's too soon. Fight me. You do it so wonderfully.
There's no fight left. So she takes it all in one go.
She almost tastes it in her mouth, letting it open slightly, gasping a little.
And she laughs, because it makes you dizzy, all that life and all those memories. It's dark in her head, maybe a little musty too. These memories will shed some light. Bring some warmth.
The life can slip from them as fast or as slow as she wants. Their memories speed to childhood, while their bodies towards death. That's when the taste becomes bitter and stings her skin. She pulls her hand away and watches the feed fall to the floor, limp and empty. A dry old husk.
She takes a step away. They're not so attractive once they've fulfilled their purpose.
Lifting her dress delicately, so the hem won't touch the dead, she steps over him and walks regally to the table. She looks at the chair at the head of the table, still occupied by a previous meal. She waits and the body is quickly removed by a guard.
He's strong, the guard. So much stronger than humans. He must have fed on many. She wonders what it would be like, to take from him. All those memories. All those feelings. All that strength. And he is Wraith.
He would last so much longer.
Giving him a long look and smile, she sits down, bringing up her bloody hand and licking the remnants.
Sweet, but already too cool. Leaning back in her chair, she looks down the length of the table at her company of corpses.
"Bring me another," she says, still hungry.
Always hungry.
//end//
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-15 03:22 pm (UTC)I hope that that's what you were going for. *g*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-15 10:03 pm (UTC)