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Title: Wants to Rip Me to Bits
Author: rosie1234
Fandom: Firefly/Dollhouse
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 318
Ships: River/Alpha, Caroline
Summary: "What do we have here?"
For: choco_cherries
Prompt: Weapons
Disclaimer: Not Mine.
“What do we have here?”
Large eyes watch each step, wicked grin wide and never leaving, as they dance to a inaudible lullaby.
“Someone with a brain just as damaged, maybe even more so.”
Mine locked on the blades, that fit in his hands like they were made for him, shimmering from his finger tips dying to slice me up.
(hands of silver, just for you)
“I highly doubt that, little girl.”
Quick steps toward the prey, wants to cut me up into little bits, with murder on the mind.
Along with pretty dolls in rows, labeled 'kill' or 'keep' and sometimes all I get from him is an echo.
“I once was a little girl, hands of blue stripped me of that years ago, and no blades will rip me up anymore. Anymore!”
With a few fluid movements, as if I just kept on dancing without a care in the world, and his blades (the ones he loves more then sleeping beauty) clatter to the ground.
And it's like I ripped a piece him away with my finger tips, tore out his very heart and crushed it under the heel of my boot, and did so with his same wicked grin.
Shock numbs that brilliant mind, almost as great as mine (I said almost), of his so I take my shots at this man that brought back the pain of every little rip and tear.
(that memory that keeps my feet moving from this star system to the next)
“Tell Caroline (make sure you echo it) that I owe her a drink, with you as her lover she needs one.”
Author: rosie1234
Fandom: Firefly/Dollhouse
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 318
Ships: River/Alpha, Caroline
Summary: "What do we have here?"
For: choco_cherries
Prompt: Weapons
Disclaimer: Not Mine.
“What do we have here?”
Large eyes watch each step, wicked grin wide and never leaving, as they dance to a inaudible lullaby.
“Someone with a brain just as damaged, maybe even more so.”
Mine locked on the blades, that fit in his hands like they were made for him, shimmering from his finger tips dying to slice me up.
(hands of silver, just for you)
“I highly doubt that, little girl.”
Quick steps toward the prey, wants to cut me up into little bits, with murder on the mind.
Along with pretty dolls in rows, labeled 'kill' or 'keep' and sometimes all I get from him is an echo.
“I once was a little girl, hands of blue stripped me of that years ago, and no blades will rip me up anymore. Anymore!”
With a few fluid movements, as if I just kept on dancing without a care in the world, and his blades (the ones he loves more then sleeping beauty) clatter to the ground.
And it's like I ripped a piece him away with my finger tips, tore out his very heart and crushed it under the heel of my boot, and did so with his same wicked grin.
Shock numbs that brilliant mind, almost as great as mine (I said almost), of his so I take my shots at this man that brought back the pain of every little rip and tear.
(that memory that keeps my feet moving from this star system to the next)
“Tell Caroline (make sure you echo it) that I owe her a drink, with you as her lover she needs one.”