iluvroadrunner6 | meme } { kissy faces

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meme } { kissy faces

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Cora isn't really sure when she, Alek and Abigail became whatever it is that they are, but she doesn't make a habit of questioning it. They don't give it a name, or a label, or even consciously decide that it is a thing that is happening, they simply fall into a rotation of sorts. It's almost become this unspoken thing whenever Alek or Cora are fighting with their brothers or ghosts from Abigail's past land on the temple steps.

(They become each other's safety net, the ones they won't admit they need, because it's easier to not need anyone. People want to be islands, isolated and alone so they don't have to rely on anyone else, but it's almost impossible not to. Werewolves certainly weren't meant to be solitary creatures, and humans really aren't either.)

Cora isn't really sure who kisses who first. She knows that she kissed Alek, and she and Abigail met somewhere in the middle, but she doesn't ask about Alek and Abigail. All she knows is that Alek yields where Abigail takes and if they don't talk about it then they don't have to ruin it. They can just be until the Two decide that that they're done with their part in the experiment.

It doesn't become clear how dependent on it all she is until she comes back from a bad mission, not just because of what happened, but because of how she and Derek fell apart on it. She doesn't think of the other people she could go to, other pack members, other friends, she just finds her way to Abigail's and is relieved when Alek is already there.

They clean her up and put her in bed, sandwiched safely between them like a cocoon. Alek's lips brush against her shoulder and Abigail's are against her forehead, and for the first time in longer than she can remember, she has a place that finally feels like home.

Edited 2015-08-03 16:17 (UTC)

“Do you actually know where you’re going?”

The glare Piper flashes him over his shoulder is withering, and if he was more inclined to be scared of her (which he should be, but he’s not), he might have even cowered a little, but he doesn’t, just staring back at her with a cocked eyebrow like well? Do you? and she rolls her eyes.

“Yes. I know where we’re going. I have an impeccable sense of direction.”

Christopher rolls his eyes in return as she turns away from him, yanking the lead on the “shackles” he’s wearing because for now he’s the “prisoner.” He doesn’t know why he has to be the prisoner, when this is April’s elaborate ruse, but apparently, it’s his purpose in life to be ordered around and play bait. Good times.

He doesn’t move at first, however, and it isn’t until he’s yanked forward again, stumbling ahead into the grass after Piper as she continues to push forward. “Ow,” he protests, though that’s mostly for effect than the shackles causing him any actual pain, but Piper doesn’t seem to care.

Story of his life.

“I would like to, again, state my lack of faith in this plan.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“I might.”

“Do you have a better idea right now?”

“ … No.”

“Then we’re going to do April’s plan.”

Christopher grumbles as they start moving forward again, continuing to believe that this plan is dumb and they are very lost but he isn’t the one in charge of this particular quest, Piper is, and he’ll just have to play along whether he likes it or not. He lets them walk in silence for a bit, before he twists his hands catching the chain of the shackles and tugging them a bit to get her attention.

“Wait.”

“Christopher – ”

“Wait.” He continues to twist his wrist a bit, using the chain length to pull her closer, and she reluctantly stumbles back towards him, not wanting to let go of the chain. “I have some conditions.”

“Conditions?”

“For going through with the plan.”

“Gods, Christopher … ”

“I feel like I have the most to lose here, as I am the prisoner and therefore stand the most chance of getting dead.”

“You freaking volunteered!” There’s a flat look at that because when does Christopher ever volunteer for anything, and then she sighs. “Fine. What are your conditions?”

“One – if I do die in there, I want you to be shouting my heroics from the rooftops. I died bravely. And valiantly. And … all those other ‘-ly’ words that mean someone died a raging badass.”

She rolls her eyes before nodding. “Continue.”

“Two – don’t let April feel like shit about this. I know it’s her plan and all, but I’m not exactly someone she should feel guilty over.”

At that the annoyance softens a bit, and her head tips to the side. “Christopher – ” He holds up a hand to cut her off because he doesn’t want to hear it. Not right now.

“I’ve got one more.”

She sighs a bit before nodding. “Okay. What’s three?”

He hesitates for a moment, before reaching forward and tugging on the chain one more time, drawing her into kissing distance. She doesn’t fight him, probably more for the surprise more than anything else, but he’s just going to keep kissing her. Her hands brush over the top of his as he stays close, and when she breaks the kiss, she shakes her head.

“You really need to stop kissing me when you think you’re going to die.”

“So you’re saying I should kiss you even when I’m not going to die?”

She sighs softly, before shaking her head and stepping away to keep leading him. “We’ll talk about this one we’re done with the plan.”

“If I live.”

“Oh, trust me, dumbass. You’re gonna live.”

Edited 2016-01-12 20:11 (UTC)

“Get your feet off my coffee table.”

The tone of Ruby’s voice seems to magically convey her usual disdain for Christopher’s existence but also manages toss in some I may be helping you raise this kid but I’m still a demon who could eviscerate you and eat your guts for breakfast for good measure. The only problem with that particular threat is that Christopher has heard it one too many times before and that doesn’t really incite him into doing as he’s told. It’s gotten less and less effectual as time has gone on, so Christopher’s feet are going to stay on that particular coffee table as he lounges in front of the TV with a bag of chips in his hand.

“But it’s at such a comfortable height for my feet,” he says, glancing back at her with a slow grin, and Ruby rolls her eyes as she makes her way around the front of the couch and standing in front of the TV, which gets more of a reaction out of him. “Whoa, hey! It was just getting to the good part.”

“We need to talk about how things are running around here.”

Christopher raises an eyebrow at her, before tipping his head to the side. “I’m sorry. Is our household not meeting the standards of other homes where a demon moves in with a fantasy land reject to raise the child of her dead boyfriend who also happens to be his dead best friend?”

“Best friend? Really?”

“I was trying out. Wanted to see how it felt.” He raises a finger to point at her. “That wasn’t the point of the statement.”

She rolls her eyes before turning to shut off the television so that she doesn’t talk over the sound, but it takes her a moment to try and find the actual button. “How do you turn this thing off?”

Christopher sighs for a moment, before reaching for the remote and switching it off, then continuing. “What do you want, Ruby?”

“I want to make sure that I’m not in this by myself, and you’re actually going to do shit other than being a pain in my ass.”

“Really?” Christopher’s eyebrows go up a bit at that, before he swings his feet off the coffee table and starts to get to his feet. “You really think I’m just going to sit on my ass and do nothing for her?”

“I don’t know!” She glares back at him. “I just can’t be alone in this. I have demons on my ass all the time, and those aren’t going to go away. I don’t have time to do that and ‘mom’ to boot, and I can’t be the only one here protecting her.”

“I love that girl,” Christopher replies with a sigh. “David died trying to protect her. I’m not going to let anything happen to her. And I wasn’t about to trust you to do the day-to-day shit anyway.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not exactly the most matronly sort, Ruby. Let’s be honest here.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest as he takes another step in. “I can at least manage making sure she’s fed, clothed and going to school. If you can keep the demons off our ass, I can at least do that much.”

She sighs heavily, running a hand through her hair, before shaking her head. “This is so fucked up.”

“You’re telling me.” He moves to stand next to her, leaning back against the entertainment center as he does. “But she’ll be okay. She’s got a good set of people around her. They’ll figure out how to make it work. People make unconventional families work all the time.”

“This is one hell of an unconventional family.”

“You’re telling me. But it could have been so much worse.”

“And how is that exactly?”

“April and I could have died as well, and you would have been left co-parenting with Sam and Dean.”

She pauses for a moment, before shuddering. “Are you trying to give me nightmares?”

He laughs. “Just giving you some food for thought.” He turns to face her again, before tipping forward and kissing the top of her head. “We will figure this out. We just gotta take it one day at a time.”

She pauses, leaning into him for the briefest of seconds, before nodding. “Okay.”

“Okay.” There’s another beat before he shifts right back into his usual mode of practiced uncaring. “Are we done being touchy-feely now? Because I think if I have to go any further I might break into hives.”

She rolls her eyes before shoving him back towards the couch. “Asshole.”

“You know it,” he smirks before going to plop back on the couch and grab the remote again. He starts to lift his feet, when Ruby’s voice snaps from around the corner.

“You put those feet on my coffee table, I’ll hack them off.”

Christopher snorts, before lowering them back down on the table with a clunk! “I’d like to see you try.”

Edited 2016-02-27 22:08 (UTC)

Another day, another mission, another step closer to finding a way to fix Amara’s curse with only minor horrific consequences in return.

David knows that none of these missions are easy. They wouldn’t be missions if there were simple solutions. But this is one that the group has been living with for too long. Usually the mission is a one shot deal, at least that’s how it’s been with most of the ones he’s been on outside of Amara’s situation, but this one gets harder and harder to live with in the long term. After all, Amara is trapped in a curse she can’t escape, Emma has managed to get cursed in the process, and they’re still finding ways to keep themselves going, even when each of their potential leads keeps getting shot down.

That being said, they keep going, because it’s not the kind of case where they can just let sleeping dogs lie. Amara doesn’t deserve this life and these feelings that she didn’t choose, and they need to fix it since they got her into this mess in the first place. It doesn’t make the missions any easier though, and David knows that each failure weighs heavier and heavier on Lila.

He finds her in one corner of the ship after their most recent mission, taking some time to herself with her knees pulled into her chest. As usual, she doesn’t want to deal with anyone, doesn’t want to talk about it, and David really isn’t all that good at talking to begin with. He’s just going to shift to sit next to her, letting his elbows rest on top of his knees.

“I’m fine.”

“I know.” And there’s nothing insincere in that lip service. He’s sure she’s very fine, as Lila is one of the most capable people he knows. She keeps herself together in the field, and frankly, is rather terrifying for a girl of her stature. “You’re always fine.”

“Then maybe you should get back to making sure Hook doesn’t drown us.”

“Hook has been piloting this ship long enough that he can handle it.”

There’s a dubious look in response to that, something along the lines of have you met Hook? but David just shakes his head, leaning back against the side of the boat, and tipping his head back.

“If, out of nowhere, a sudden storm appears to attempt to drown us, the thing I need to grab is right over your head.”

There’s a pause as she looks up to what he’s referring to, before turning her eyes dead ahead again, focusing on the opposite side of the ship. “Oh.” There’s another beat. “Do you need me to move?”

“No, you’re fine.” He says as he follows her eye line to the clear horizon. “Water’s calm for now, but if I do, I’ll let you know.”

Lila nods slowly, her eyes dead ahead as she works through the past few hours of horror (at least there wasn’t another aboleth), but after a while she shifts slightly, letting her weight rest against David’s strong shoulders and takes a deep breath.

“We got new information out of this, right?”

“We did,” David says with a nod. “And we’re another step closer.”

“Not enough steps,” Lila takes a deep breath as she continues. “She’s still cursed.”

“She is. But the more we learn, the more we can figure out how to fix it. We’ll figure it out.” His arm shifts gently to slide an arm around her shoulders and pull her closer. “One step at a time, right?”

“I think I’d prefer to take ten steps at a time, actually,” she sighs. They drop into silence again for most of the trip back. When they hit the docks, Lila immediately surges to her feet as though she’s been burned, wanting to get herself back on dry land and to her husband and friends.

“You and me both,” David sighs as he pulls himself to his feet, back to being a towering mass of muscle over her. They gather their things and make their way back over to the gangplank and as he holds out his hand to help her step up and over, she grips his hand for a moment, before leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. David blinks, surprised at the gesture, but she cuts him off before he can say anything in response.

“Thanks.”

She flounces off the second after she’s finished, not even giving him the chance to say “you’re welcome.” It’s probably for the best.

Edited 2016-02-19 17:01 (UTC)

For Neal, being honest is a bit like trying on a suit that doesn’t quite fit. He’s pretty good at pretending, and no one else might know the difference, but he can feel it, in the way it squeeze places it shouldn’t or the pull in the shoulders as he reaches for something. Living in a world where he has to be completely honest, all the time, is uncomfortable and not something he likes to make a practice of.

Part of it is probably habit. Part of it is not always wanting to be honest, and part of it is just knowing that the honest world is never going to be a place for him. He can’t go straight and stay that way, not for long. He belongs in the criminal element, belongs in the world of lies and cons, and he’s more than happy to stay there for as long as they’ll have him.

(In a lot of ways, it’s an addiction, and that part is never going to change. Neal still hasn’t hit bottom yet, and he’s still not convinced he ever will.)

Kali, on the other hand, is an odd contradiction to his world, but she still belongs there. Kali isn’t built to be a liar, she’s not good at it. As instinctive as it is for Neal to bend the truth, it is for Kali to say whatever’s on her mind. No limit. No filter. Her heart is on her sleeve just as much as Neal’s is, but hers is so much easier to see.

In some ways, it’s probably why it’s easier for him to tell her the truth. He knows that she won’t judge him for the things he’s done or the laws he’s broken because she views them the same way as he does. Thieves are thieves, and Neal’s never been the kind of thief where he’s intended for people to get hurt. It’s one of those quite moments of rare honesty, lounging on his bed in the brownstone while bits of sun peak through the blackout curtains he had installed so he can sleep through the phases of Teleios’ spring, summer and fall, that he tells her this:

“My name used to be Danny. Danny Brooks.”

“Danny?” Kali wrinkles her nose a bit at that, before continuing to stare up at the ceiling. “That’s such a boring name.”

“That was kind of the point,” he sighs as he shifts a bit so that she can curl into his shoulder more. “We were in witsec. They didn’t want us standing out.”

“Just because you’re not supposed to stand out doesn’t mean you can’t still have a good name.”

“I was two at the time, so I didn’t get much of a say.”

“Ah,” she pauses for a moment, before rolling over more so that her chin is resting on his chest. “So why’d you choose ‘Neal Caffrey’?”

“Neal was the name they originally gave me,” he explains, tucking one arm behind his head. “And Caffrey was my mom’s maiden name.”

“So it’s still the name they gave you. Sort of.”

“I guess. But at the same time, it’s still an alias. I’ve never really been me.”

“Danny Brooks wasn’t you either. Technically that was an alias too.” She pauses for a moment, tracing a shape against his chest with her finger. “What was your dad’s last name?”

“Bennett.”

“Neal Bennett.” She considers, weighing it for a moment, before shaking her head. “That doesn’t really feel like you either.” She shifts to roll back onto her back again, so that she’s basking in the sun more. “I like Neal Caffrey. It suits you. It’s who you are.”

“How, if it’s a name I gave myself?” That’s the part he gets hung up on, every time he turns it over and over again in his head. “It’s a name I gave myself to hide and become someone else.”

“Starting over isn’t a bad thing,” she replies pointedly. “And just because someone creates you doesn’t mean they have a say in everything you are. It doesn’t mean they can choose things for you. If they did, I would probably still be calling myself Five-oh-One. I wouldn’t be me.”

He pauses for a moment as he turns that over in his head, trying to put the pieces of that together in a way that applies to him. “So you’re saying that just because I made him up doesn’t mean he isn’t who I am?”

She nods. “You can be whoever you want to be. And it sounds like you’ve been Neal Caffrey long enough that it’s a good chance that that’s who you are.”

“That is true.” He pauses for a moment, before tipping to the side and pressing a kiss to her forehead as he starts to pull away. “Thank you.”

There’s a soft whine of protest, one hand reaching up to grab hold of his shirt. “Where are you going?”

“I have to get going now if I’m going to have dinner ready in time.”

“Or you can stay here and we can order pizza.”

He makes a face. “The only pizza in Teleios is Sbarro, and that’s not good pizza.”

There’s a pause, and she retries that approach. “Or you can stay here and we can have Friendly’s.”

He laughs softly at that, before nodding and going to settle back in next to him. “You make a valid argument.”

“Thank you.” She curls up into him again, before gripping him in a way that says that if he tries to move again, he might lose a limb. “Now, stay put.”

He laughs, before nodding as he closes his eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

Edited 2016-02-27 23:33 (UTC)

It starts as flickers, more than anything else.

She goes back home with a clear mind and is plunged head-first into saving the world, so she doesn’t really think much of it. As far as she knows, nothing has transpired between one moment and the last, the grief of losing Rainer comes back fresh and hot. (Or maybe it’s the grief of losing something else.) She doesn’t have time for that, however, she has to save the world (again) and that’s more than enough to keep a girl busy.

Then she loses Kenzi, and anything that could have been out of the ordinary is immediately brushed to the side in favor of saving her best friend. That doesn’t mean it’s a smooth transition, but it’s the people around her who notice it more than she does.

“Who’s Kali?”

She looks up at Tamsin for a beat of confusion, before responding. “Huh?”

“You said we need to save Kali. Who’s Kali?”

“What?” She frowns some more before shaking her head. “Sorry. Kenzi. I meant Kenzi.”

Tamsin looks at her with a look she’s seen before, indicating that she knows she’s running on empty, that she should rest before she gets in over her head, but Bo doesn’t want to. Her dreams are crowded with faces she doesn’t recognize, of dark hair, strong hands and wolf’s eyes that glow neon blue rather than Dyson’s vivid gold. She doesn’t know what to make of any of it, before she pushes it all to the side rather than deal with it.

If they were memories of another love she’s lost, she doesn’t want to remember. She’s dealt with enough loss, even after she brings Kenzi back from the dead. She feels so lonely, and she aches for something more, for people who understand her, who loved her, who didn’t expect more of her than she’d be able to give. Still she picks up her sword and fights anyway, because if she doesn’t do it who will. At the end of the day, she’s just as tired as she is when she starts, but at least she knows that the world is a better place.

She walks into the Dal one day to see a curtain of blond hair sitting on a bar stool and there’s something so familiar about it that it makes her stop on her tracks. For a moment, she thinks it might be Lauren, but there’s something softer and more energetic about it, as though the person couldn’t sit still to save her life. All it takes is a moment before she’s spinning on the stool to face her and the smile on her face is far too bright to be Lauren. There’s a kind of energy coursing through her and the minute she lays eyes on Bo, she brightens even more, and Bo didn’t think that was possible.

“Bo!”

Before Bo can even get the protest of concern out the blond is bounding across the bar to meet her and throws her arms around her neck, hugging her tightly. Trick looks concerned from behind the bar, silently questioning who this person is and Bo gives a small shrug as she tentatively hugs her back, nothing clicking into place beyond this striking familiarity.

“Hi?”

The blond pulls back after a moment, frowning slightly, before she sighs. “You really don’t remember, do you?”

Those words never mean anything good in Bo’s experience. “Am I supposed to?”

“No.” That’s not exactly comforting either. “But you told me if you didn’t, I should make you.”

Bo doesn’t even get a chance to respond before the blond’s lips find hers, being reeled in to a warm kiss that shouldn’t feel so familiar, but it does. She melts easily into the kiss, one hand coming up to rest against the other girl’s face and when the woman pulls back and the name is on the tip of her tongue.

“Kali.”

She grins back at her in return, before crossing her arms in front of her chest. “At least it’s a start.”

Edited 2016-04-20 01:18 (UTC)

“Is that chocolate?”

Bo should probably be concerned with more important things upon getting her tour of Camp Half-Blood – like the fact that she’s supposedly a demigod and descended from one of the Greek pantheon and blah blah blah blah blah – but she needs the distraction and if that distraction comes in the form of chocolatey goodness when they arrive at the Aphrodite cabin, then so be it. She’s been on her own for weeks now and she’s tired of the trouble that keeps following her everywhere.

Right now? She wants to indulge.

“Yes. Yes, it is.” She grins as she makes her way over to the bed and flops down against the bed, holding up one of the boxes for her. “My dad is a chocolatier.”

“Lucky,” Bo replies before she drops down on the bed next to her, reaching for one of the small squares and popping it in her mouth with a happy groan. “Oh, chocolate, how have I missed you.”

Silena smiles, and Bo feels her heart melt in response. She never really considered herself into girls, but then again, she never really thought much about being into guys either. Maybe she’s just into people. So long as those people don’t drop dead when she’s done making out with them. Bo isn’t entirely convinced that she’s a demigod when all she seems to do is leave death in her wake, but the rest of the camp, Silena included, seems pretty sure of it, so she’ll take their word for it. She just hopes they’re not wrong.

As she settles back onto the bed and looks around, she can’t help but shake her head at the choice of décor. “Even with the excessive amount of pink, this is still a step up from living in the Hermes cabin.”

“I’m sure you’ll be claimed soon enough,” Silena replies optimistically. “It’s not usually the kind of thing that goes on for a while once you’re here.”

“Assuming there’s anyone to claim me and I’m not just some freak.”

“There’ll be someone to claim you. I’m sure of it.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Because you wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t,” Silena reaches forward and lets her hand rest on her arm gently, giving it a small squeeze.

Bo stares at her quietly for a moment, and she instantly wants to lean in and kiss her, but a second later she’s second guessing, wondering if this is a side effect of being in the cabin of the goddess of love or something she actually wants. All the same, she’s grateful and her impulse control has never been the best. She surges forward, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

“Thanks.”

Silena smiles wide at her in return, before getting up with the box in her hand. “So. Should we continue with the tour?”

“Yep,” Bo grins as she climbs to her feet. “Let’s go.”

Edited 2016-04-27 00:45 (UTC)

“I don’t think you can do it.” It’s a teasing dare, given as Bo sits down across from Aggie with a bottle of whisky and two shot glasses, getting ready to pour as she settles into her seat. “These powers of yours have to have a range or something, right?”

Aggie seems more interested in the whisky than she does in Bo’s challenge, reaching for one of the glasses once it’s poured and knocking back the shot easily. “Do your powers have a range?”

Her head tips to the side. “Sometimes. Sometimes they don’t. But with a power like yours it begs the question how much is Fae overload. Besides, how do you feed?”

Aggie knocks back the glass for a moment, before waving a hand. “I have a twin. Normally our kind of Fae the power has two parts – we can sense the abilities of other Fae, and then we borrow them. That’s how we feed. But since Zin and I were twins the power got split in half. I can pick ‘em out and he can steal ‘em and when he feeds – I get fed too.”

“So you guys have some kind of mystical twin bond thing?”

“Pretty much,” Aggie reaches for the bottle to pour herself another shot. Bo restrains herself from asking the very obvious question of what happens if Zin dies, because she’s not looking for an angry, depressing conversation at the moment. So instead she scans the bar, before turning back to her date with a grin.

“I have an idea.”

“Does it involve more shots?”

“Potentially. I’m thinking a little wager. You guess the abilities of the Fae in this room. For every one you miss – ”

“Which I won’t.”

“ – But if you do, you have to take a shot.”

“I am okay with this plan so far. What do I get if I’m right?”

“Well, that is entirely up to you.”

Aggie considers for a moment, before tipping her head to the side. Then she grins. “For each one I get right, I want a kiss.”

“From me?” Aggie nods, and a grin stretches across Bo’s face. “I don’t know – that kind of seems like a win-win for me.”

Aggie shrugs in return. “Losing is overrated.” She turns and drums her hands against the table for a moment, before glancing around the room. “Where shall we start?”

Two hours later, they’ve circled the entire room, had many more shots and are currently making out against the doorframe to Trick’s back room. As Aggie tugs her inside, she knows that Trick probably won’t be happy with her about it, but Trick can always forgive her later.

Edited 2016-04-26 22:53 (UTC)

It’s not that David doesn’t like Silena. It’s that he doesn’t trust her yet.

It sounds colder than it actually is, because he hasn’t ruled it out entirely that he could. The “yet” part of that statement is important because he wants to trust her. He wants to be her friend, to not get quiet and distant every time she joined them around the campfire, but he can’t help but feel like he’s in over his head with demigods in general, never mind demigods with the ability to influence his mind.

He wants to make sure that he isn’t being used against his friends (again), having his feelings amplified against his will (again) and going to come out the other side when the spell breaks feeling used up and angry at himself (again). He’s already made so much progress in processing what Senna did to him, he doesn’t want to take ten steps back by getting himself caught under Silena’s thrall.

Christopher, April and Jalil get it, and they’re more than willing to run interference, but considering the rest of the demigods at Camp Halfblood have no idea about David’s history, it’s hard to find ways to separate them with the proper buffers without making too much of a fuss and dredging up things they don’t want to dredge up. So for the time being, he just has to suck it up and deal with it, and hope that he doesn’t get too in over his head.

Which is why his night is off to such an excellent start when Silena barges into his tent and asks: “You don’t like me, do you?”

His mouth gapes for a moment, before he rolls his shoulders awkwardly and shakes his head. “No.” There’s an awkward silence, before he manages to spit out. “I like you fine.”

“Liar.” Silena crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Is it something I said? Because I know I can run off my mouth sometimes, but usually people just tell me when I’ve said something stupid.”

“No!” He huffs for a moment, before shaking his head. “It’s not you.”

“It’s obviously at least partially me, if I’m the one you don’t like.”

“Why is this such a big deal?” He tries desperately to change the subject and get it off him and his feelings. “You’ve never had someone not want to be around you before?”

“No,” she sulks slightly. “I mean, some of the girls in the Aphrodite Cabin can be super petty, but we know how to handle each other. I’ve never had a boy completely avoid me before.”

He sighs heavily, before running a hand over his face. “As I said. It’s not you.”

“Then what is it?”

David turns the words over in his head for a moment, all the different things he could say to her to try and make her feel better and go away, but in the end, he doesn’t really have a satisfactory answer to that. Instead, he just has the truth, and the truth is better than trying to avoid the question again.

“It’s your powers.”

That seems to take her by surprise, tipping her head to the side in confusion. “My powers?”

“There was a witch in Everworld that messed with my head. Made me think I was in love with her.” It was worse than that – he was in love with her – but that doesn’t have to come up now. “I’m still dealing with the after effects, so I didn’t want to get … caught up in another situation like that one.”

Silena looks almost hurt in response. “You think I would do something like that?”

“I don’t know you,” he points out. “I don’t know what you’re capable of, and no one is exactly how they appear on the surface. I like you. I do. I just … I don’t trust you. Not yet.”

Silena huffs for a moment, before moving closer to him and tries to take his hands, but he flexes backwards on instinct. She looks confused for a moment, before he elaborates.

“She used to do it through touch.”

Her face softens, and she nods, dropping her hands to clasp in front of her. “I get it. I do. But how are you going to learn to trust me if you don’t spend time getting to know me.”

“I don’t know.” He shifts awkwardly in front of her for a moment, before shrugging. “I figured I’d just … observe. Let the others get to know you first.”

“And if they end up trusting me, then you’ll trust me?”

“Something like that.”

Silena nods in agreement for a moment, before taking a deep breath. “For the record, I don’t want to force you to like me. That takes all the fun out of actually getting you to like me. As for my powers, I can’t force you to love me. Not … long term, or anything. And the girl who did that to you clearly doesn’t understand what love actually is.”

David nods awkwardly for a moment. “I just wasn’t sure … with your mom and all that. I wasn’t trying to be judgy or anything – ”

“You were just protecting yourself. I get it.” She takes a step to the side, not quite in his personal space to the point where it’s uncomfortable, but just enough that she can lean in and give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Take your time. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

He swallowed again, before looking up at her leaving and nodding in response. “Okay.”

Edited 2016-02-27 21:09 (UTC)

There are moments where Sean wonders if things would have gone differently if Sean had told her he was gay. He’s not gay, for the record. He is very much into Aggie always, but that at least doesn’t have the same sting as “I’m dumping you for Jesus.”

Then again, knowing Aggie as well as he did, he had always known it wasn’t going to go down easy. It isn’t that he didn’t love her, because he did. He loved her so much, and in some ways he still does. But how do you explain that you’re being called to something higher without making it sound like you don’t love them enough. That they aren’t enough. But even now, he can feel that need in his chest to be something greater and that need is more than the need he has to be with her. He doesn’t think it’s fair to lead her on otherwise.

When Aggie returns to Haven, she comes back in pieces and Sean is there the second she’s allowed to have visitors that aren’t Zin or her mom. Prior to that he spends his time in the waiting room, texting Cami updates while she’s still away at school. He doesn’t have to be the first thing she sees, that’s not important. The important thing is that Sean still cares and in a lot of ways, he never stopped.

It takes time before she actually talks to him. At first, it’s a lot of asking him to fetch things for her or change the channel on the TV but eventually it turns into actual conversations, mostly light topics, but things become easier and easier as the months go on. The more she recuperates and the better she feels, the more things start to even out and they go back to normal again. Not as they were, but … normal.

One night, when they’re hanging out on Aggie’s couch, eating pizza and watching movies, she finally asks the question she’s probably been wanting to ask him since he broke up with her.

“Sean?”

“Yeah, Aggs?”

“You aren’t one of those priests that are actually gay but they’re so Catholic that they think that it means they should be a priest?” There’s a beat. “Because if you’re gay it’s totally okay. You don’t have to run away and become a priest.”

He huffs softly for a moment, before shaking her head. “I’m not gay, Aggie. I just … wanted to be a priest.”

She sighs, before nodding. “I know. I would have been able to tell if you were gay.”

“Oh really?”

“Kissing a gay dude is totally different from kissing a straight one.” She pauses for a moment, before making a face. “I always thought that kissing a priest would be like kissing Zin.” She makes a bigger face.

“If it makes you feel any better, you are the only girl I ever wanted to kiss.” He doesn’t know if it actually will make her feel any better, because Aggie is the one person he always floundered with when it came to saying the right thing, but he hopes it will. “If things were different … ”

“I know,” she says, reaching over and giving his hand a squeeze. “You wanted to be a priest. I get it now.” There’s a beat. “Sorta.”

He nudges her shoulder gently as the movie comes to an end, before starting to get to his feet. “I gotta go. I told the Rev I would stop by on my way home.”

Aggie’s nose wrinkles automatically at the mention of his name. “Ew.”

“It’s just a meeting. Maybe he’s turning over a new leaf.”

There’s a very dubious look at that, and Sean shakes his head before leaning in to press a kiss to her temple. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He starts to walk to the door, before Aggie’s voice draws his attention again.

“Hey, Sean?”

“Yeah?”

“I really the only girl you ever wanted to kiss?”

He turns back to face her for a moment, watching her, before taking another step back towards her, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her gently. He probably (definitely) shouldn’t, but it felt right in the moment. It feels like the goodbye they never got to have.

He pulls back, brushing his thumb against her cheek, then nods. “Only you.” Then he pulls away to head out the door. “I’ll see you later.”

A week later, Sean isn’t Sean anymore and the sanctuary of St. Anne’s is bathed in blood. But at least he had the chance to say goodbye when it counted.

Edited 2016-01-11 21:26 (UTC)

eric/pj | psl-land | 657 words

iluvroadrunner6 - 2016-01-31 06:07 (UTC) - Expand

neal/jondy | psl-land | 420 words

alias_savant - 2016-02-21 14:02 (UTC) - Expand

Cora Hale is not particularly adept at physical affection.

It comes part and parcel with not really having any in her life since she was a child. She spent most of the years between eleven and seventeen running and hiding from most people that she didn’t really have the opportunity to be on the receiving end, and Derek wasn’t exactly breaking out the hugs when she returned to Beacon Hills. That kind of trust takes time and friends, and time and friends were exactly what she didn’t have.

Chicago is different, though. (She’s beginning to learn that in most instances, Chicago usually is.)

Chicago means pack, and while it takes her a while to warm up to that particular idea as well, in a lot of ways the Chicago Hales make it easy. Adam is a little crass and rough around the edges, but he has good intentions (most of the time). Ethan and Logan are incredibly easy to talk to without even trying, and Cora isn’t particularly adept at talking either. Even Connor is starting to grow on her, and Alek …

Well, Alek is the reason why she’s there. He’s the reason why she’s painfully aware of how bad she is at the whole being a girl thing, and the reason why she wishes sometimes that Lydia (or Laura, but that’s a hope against hope) might come tumbling through the rift to help her figure all of this out. She wants to be better. She wants to not feel like she’s floundering completely when it happens and she wants to at least seem like she knows what she’s doing. Even if she doesn’t.

(Part of her almost hates him for making her flounder around like an actual teenage girl, but the way he twists her stomach into knots when he smiles at her almost makes up for it.)

Things are almost easier as wolves. It’s an instinctive kind of ease, the comfort of pack and safety that makes curling up against his side after a run or nuzzling against his shoulder when they’re coming back in simple and uncomplicated. It probably shouldn’t surprise her that the wolf in her is better at communicating her feelings than she is as Cora fails at communication in general. She’s blunt force object in something that requires a little more finesse. Still, she tries it anyway.

She skips handholding, leaps over hugs, jumps around snuggling and turns their first kiss into almost a literal collision, foreheads colliding with a hard crack.

“Ow.”

“Ditto,” Cora sighs, silently berating herself at the same time. Good job, Cora. A+.

Alek rubs his forehead for a moment, quiet contemplation from his seat next to her. “Were you trying to … ?”

He lets the question hang silently in the space next to them for a moment and she ducks her head a bit, giving a small shrug. “It’s okay. Forget it.”

There’s another small pause and he reaches over and takes her hand gently, giving it a soft squeeze to draw her eyes back to him. She almost doesn’t let him, but eventually she has to look up, a small shade of hope in her eyes, and he gives her a small smile before leaning in to kiss her gently. It’s soft and slow and good and everything she wanted hers to be. He has the finesse she lacks and when the kiss parts she stays close, letting her hand rest against his chest gently.

“You’re way better at this than I am.”

There’s a moment of quiet before his voice teases against her ear. “Don’t worry. We’ll practice.”

Edited 2016-01-10 18:23 (UTC)

hana/rafe | monkeybars | 794 words

nelipot - 2015-08-02 17:03 (UTC) - Expand

derek/phoebe | psl-land | 500 words

epistemic - 2015-08-02 17:03 (UTC) - Expand

ava/connor | riftverse | 609 words

thebeatofherheart - 2015-08-02 17:04 (UTC) - Expand

apollo/elena | teleios | 627 words

lightingtheskies - 2015-08-02 17:04 (UTC) - Expand

cora/sarah | canon-ish? | 605 words

impetere - 2015-08-02 17:04 (UTC) - Expand

“You’re late.”

It’s meant to be a teasing gesture, because as far as Buffy knows he might be perfectly on time, but this particular set of city shenanigans have been going on for a couple weeks now and it’s taken him a while to make his way to her side if he arrived sooner. For right now, however, she’s content to just tease him and be happy about the fact that he’s here rather than dwelling too much on the negative.

Doesn’t mean she won’t get on his case though.

“Hello to you too, Buffy,” he responds as he slides onto the barstool next to her at the Dal, giving Bo a flirty smile as he waves her down for a drink of his own. “Can you be late to a metaphysical event? I’m fairly certain, belissima, that you have to arrive exactly when you’re supposed to.”

“That so,” she replies as she sips her own drink. “I will have to keep that in mind, next time I’m swept up into one.”

“Mmmm. I’m sure you will.” There’s a pause as he thanks Bo before taking a sip of his own. “Not that you’re one to just accept fate as it is.”

“Also true,” she says with a nod. “Though I have to say – I think I’m starting to like this one.”

“Really?” Damon makes a face as he shakes his head. “It was one thing being at the whims of the city. This … I’m not sure this is entirely fair.”

“Nothing is ever fair,” she points out as she takes another sip. It’s the fruity kind, not the hard kind, so she’s not expecting to really feel anything from it – it probably says more about her mood than anything else. “At least, not the way people think fair means. Fair doesn’t always mean right and right doesn’t always mean good. It just is what it is.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be good?”

“Exactly,” she teases again, turning to face him more. “I know from experience.” She glances down at his wrist for a moment, before frowning. “No bracelet.”

He follows her eyes down to his wrist, and shrugs. “I don’t think I’m meant to stay, Buffy. Just visiting for a little while.”

“I figured. That would be too much like ‘luck’ and that I have absolutely none of.”

He smiles softly, but there’s a touch of bittersweet to it, almost as though he doesn’t really know what else to tell her, but he at least feels like he should say something. “I do have some time, though. Not fading out of existence quite yet.”

“That is true,” she says with a nod. “And a wiser person might suggest that we should make the most of things while we have it.”

“That does sound like a very wise person indeed. What would you suggest we do with this time?” He raises an eyebrow in her direction, and she grins before taking his hand.

“C’mon. Let’s go see a movie.”

* * * * *

Three movies, two massive tubs of popcorn and an argument about the virtues of Christian Slater versus … literally anyone else, the presence of Damon next to her starts to get slightly fuzzy around the edges. She frowns in response, before crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Guess it’s time for you to go.”

He glances to her and frowns, before glancing down at himself, and sighing. “I guess it is.”

“You know, one of these days I wish the universe will give us a choice about stuff like this,” she sighs, before turning to pull him into one last hug. Damon responds in kind rubbing her back gently, but his tangibility is fading fast.

“Stay safe, belissima. Try not to aim for death number four.”

“Trust me. It is not an intentional thing.” She pulls back for a moment, before pushing up on her toes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. He manages to catch her off guard, however, one hand coming up to cup her cheek gently and bringing her lips to his.

The kiss is slow, soft and brief and Buffy is the one that breaks it. It’s not that it’s unwelcome, but Bonnie is still her friend too, and she knows whatever universe he’s returning to, she’s probably there waiting for him. For right now, just that is enough.

“Goodbye, Damon.”

“Arrivederci, Buffy.”

Edited 2016-02-21 17:16 (UTC)

stefan/sam | psl-land | 655 words

somanyadjectives - 2015-08-02 17:06 (UTC) - Expand

If there's one thing that the Hand won't fuck with, it's the Fae.

It's easy to see themselves as the superior option to humans, with their abilities that resemble that of the Fae but in reality are mere imitations. Coming up against the real deal, the uberhumans that have been hiding in plain sight since the world began, and they start losing. Fast.

Bo, personally, doesn't mind the imposition. Most Fae probably would be amused by how overconfident they are right before they swatted them like flies, but Bo will give them an actual fight, tease them into thinking they stand a chance against the daughter of Death himself, but in the end, they're basically target practice.

At the same time, it's not really the fight she's after. It's the assassin clad in red leather that usually follows. Elektra is interesting in all the right ways, a complicated mix of sass, serious and badass that doesn't come around all that often and Bo can't help but be intrigued. Whether it's fighting side by side or trying to tease her out of her shell afterwards in the Dal, Elektra is certainly a challenge worth conquering.

And she's this close to getting the other woman to come to her.

"Okay, you have to tell me what is in this." Elektra is peering down into the mouth of her glass as they recoup back in Trick's lair. Bo stole a couple bottles of the good stuff for their private victory party - the kind that will get anyone, no matter their metabolism, nice and sloshed as efficiently as possible. Bo is already feeling it, and she giggles at the look on Elektra's face.

"It's called 'Ambrosia.' Not actual ambrosia, but the closest Fae equivalent." She shifts her position so that she and Elektra are almost snuggling on the couch. The other woman curls into her side a little more, something that probably speaks more to her comfort with Bo than the alcohol in her system and Bo sighs softly as she relaxes. "I think it's the perfect drink for a job well done.

"It's certainly strong." Elektra swirls her drink for a moment as she stares at it. "But strong isn't always a bad thing."

"No it is not," Bo nods. "Besides. We're celebrating. I think we're allowed to get a little sloshed."

Elektra gives Bo a look that says she thinks she's a past "a little" but she doesn't seem to mind. It says a lot that Elektra trusts Bo to be with her like this, and Bo certainly isn't going to take advantage of it. For right now, though, she's content with this moment alone with someone she's come to value as a friend, first, whatever relationship aspirations she may have second.

There's silence for a moment, before Elektra tips her head to the side, and presses a soft kiss to Bo's cheek. The other woman closes her eyes at the touch, savoring it before she even really comprehends it's happening, and once she does, her eyes open and Bo turns to look at Elektra curiously.

"What was that for?"

Elektra just smiles softly, before nodding. "For having my back."

Edited 2015-10-07 17:23 (UTC)

The problem with Cora and boys is that she doesn't exactly know what the cue is to push things from two people who like each other to two people who like each other, and are both aware of that fact, and who maybe casually make out every once in a while.

Or something.

It's the kind of feeling that makes her feel inadequate as a teenage girl because she's pretty sure that this is something that girls like Lydia and Faye mastered freshman year and when she was supposed to be in her freshman year of high school, she ... had other priorities. She would be lying if there weren't moments where she wishes those priorities were different so that she would know the answers to these questions and not feel like an idiot for having to ask him.

There's also a part of her that tells her that she shouldn't want this, because Peter is her friend. Her good friend. The kind of friend that she hasn't really had and the pragmatic side of her says not to risk it. Because if she takes the risk and she's wrong, she loses him, loses this thing between them that makes everything else easy, and she can't figure out if that will hurt more than not trying at all.

The problem is, the teenage girl part of her, the one with no logic and no remorse makes her feel like if she doesn't just kiss him sometimes, that could kill her. The need makes her feel like she can't breathe and it's only gotten worse the more time she's spent with him. It's gotten to the point where it's all she thinks about when she's with him which is distracting because she should be paying attention to what they're doing and what he's saying, because Peter can get into the kind of rambles where if you get distracted for two seconds you could miss an entire tangent and Cora doesn't want to.

She likes his tangents.

(He also never seems to catch that her attention somehow always drifts down to his lips when he talks. Honestly, when he's talking is when she thinks about kissing him the most which seems pathetic and obvious and being a teenage girl sucks.)

She could ask Faye or Sarah for advice, see what they would do in this situation because they both have more experience with boys than she does, but she doesn't. Vocalizing it makes it real and there's still that part of her that's terrified of rejection, one way or another. She could just talk to him about it, like a normal person, but she can't do that either, because she can never figure out how to start.

Cora isn't really a person for words anyway. She's impulsive and does before she thinks, so in the end, that's what she does. He's talking about a movie or something with genetics - she lost track somewhere in the middle - and she moves before she can think about it too much, her hands coming to rest against his chest for balance, closes her eyes, and -

- her forehead collides with his nose. She's really supposed to be more coordinated than that.

The silence that follows is deafening, Peter pulling back just slightly, looking at her in confusion, his eyes scanning her face as though he's trying to see what she can't manage to say. Her cheeks feel like they're on fire and she can't hold his gaze, glancing away first before starting to pull away, but his hand catches her wrist and holds her in place.

"Wait."

Her eyes go back to him again, equally confused, but she lets him pull her back in, his hands moving to her waist. He nudges her in gently, not stopping until her hands were back against his chest again, lingering so closely in her space that she can't misinterpret it any other way. Her eyes look up at him, darting between his eyes and his lips, but he doesn't come the rest of the way and kiss her. She still gets to take the initiative and for some reason, that endears her to the moment even more. She takes a breath, takes her time, and slowly - carefully - leans in to kiss him again.

It only takes a second for him to kiss her back. She's never been so relieved to have a risk pay off.

Edited 2015-08-13 18:33 (UTC)

bo/duke | psl-land | 684 words

dontkanyeme - 2015-08-02 17:06 (UTC) - Expand

ethan/cami | monkeybars-ish | 1,657 words

bravebartender - 2015-08-02 17:07 (UTC) - Expand

damon/bela | monkeybars | 335 words

enjoythe_ride - 2015-08-02 17:07 (UTC) - Expand

Werewolves have always been tactile creatures.

Buffy's known that about them from Day One. It so happens that Buffys also happen to be very tactile creatures, so that's never really been a problem between them. She and Peter have always been better with the physical than the verbal, which is funny, considering how much both of them like to talk.Actual talking has never been Buffy's strong suit any more than it has been Peter's.

After the fire, touch became something different. Buffy and Peter avoided touching each other if they could help it, to the point where touch becomes a tool to control him, whether it's a distraction or a focus point, something that keeps him tethered to the here and now rather than losing himself in the chasm that has become "then." This doesn't change after Mexico - the thing that does change is how hard it is for Peter to stay.

She gets better at reading the tension in his shoulders and the stiffness in his gaze. She uses her hand to anchor him and a kiss to steady him, remind him who he is and why he's here. She knows all too well, that this won't last forever. This isn't a fairy tale and true love's kiss won't heal a broken mind because there is no spell to break. It's going to be hard and every day and in some ways that's comforting.

Her world has never been made up of fairy tales. She's not looking for happily ever after, and having Peter be perfect would be far too easy a fix.

It's not until they're in Scotland that something changes, distance and time giving them a chance to recuperate and regroup. As time goes on, he starts to reach for her, instead of the other way around. He takes her hand to draw her closer, takes the initiative when he kisses her and it feels less like she's anchoring him and more like they're anchoring each other.

It's still not perfect. It's still not easy. But for right now? It's progress.

Edited 2015-08-25 15:19 (UTC)

hal/olivia | canon au | 552 words

thisholyspark - 2015-08-02 17:08 (UTC) - Expand

stiles/cora | spamalot | 553 words

impetere - 2016-01-08 15:52 (UTC) - Expand

When you’ve been married long enough, big romantic gestures tend to turn into the little things. This is especially true about being married to a man like Peter Burke, who can be so detail oriented in terms of his job, but fails at interpreting them when it comes to his wife. It’s not that Peter doesn’t want to make the grand romantic gesture, it’s simply that he wants to make the right one and the right one doesn’t always turn out as well as expected.

(Though, one of the many reasons why El will always be grateful for Neal, even when he was getting Peter into trouble, is that when it came to anniversaries, Valentine’s Day, and honestly any special occasion in general, he forced Peter to seriously up his game. That? That she will never complain about.)

Their time becomes even more limited when they become parents. Not that they regret that particular choice either, but a little more of that attention to detail slips away in favor of making sure that Little Neal is safe, secure and happy. It’s what they had wanted for so long, and now that it’s finally here, they throw everything into it wholeheartedly. Jones says there’s really no one better fit to become parents (even if they name their children after trouble making, pain-in-the-ass criminals instead of the fine upstanding FBI agents that Peter works with – Clinton Burke has a really nice ring to it, when you really think about it), and even if El doesn’t always feel like the most adequate mother (normal, according to her own), most days she still manages to feel like she’s doing something right.

Still, she misses the romance. But she knows it’s always worth the wait when Peter manages to surprise her, so she does what she does best. She waits.

It’s the Friday before their anniversary, and she has spent the past hour shopping while Peter gets in some quality baby time, and when she returns to the house, she’s surprised to find it almost completely dark. Part of her is almost nervous as she walks in the door, but from what she can tell, everything seems to be in order.

And then she rounds the corner, and everything changes.

The dining room lights are set on low, and at the beautifully set table is her husband. She glances from him to the table, and then to the kitchen where she can smell something cooking. “Did you make a roast?”

“I had a little downtime.”

“Where’s Neal?”

“With Sara. She wanted to spend some time with him while she was back from London, and she made me promise to take him back in the morning.”

“Okay.” She nods as she makes her way closer, letting her hands rest against his chest as he wraps his arms around her. “So what is all of this?”

“Well, our anniversary is on Sunday. And it’s been a while since we’ve had some time to ourselves, so I thought – why not make my wife dinner and see what happens?”

She pauses, considering for a moment, before her smile widens and she pushes up on her toes to kiss him softly. “I think that sounds perfect.”

He grins in return, before squeezing her tightly. “I’m glad you think so.”

She shifts to rest her head against his shoulder, looking over everything and just letting it sink in exactly how lucky she is. “Happy anniversary, hun.”

Peter rubs her back gently before nodding in return. “Happy anniversary, hun.”

Edited 2016-01-06 16:43 (UTC)

Parker never gets into anything halfway.

It may seem like an obvious thing - she throws herself off buildings for fun - but most people don't realize that she applies that principle to everything she does. The tentative, unsure steps only last for as long as it takes her to learn it, but once she knows all the steps the dance of it all comes easily, and she never forgets. It's almost as though it becomes second nature - once she knows she can, she does.

That's why the first time she kisses Neal, there's nothing tentative about it. She launches herself at him like a missile, arms around his neck and lips finding his and there's a certainty to it, just like she does everything else. It's a certainty that Neal never has, a certainty he always needs, and there's a part of him that knows he can trust Parker to weigh him down like an anchor, to know where he doesn't and there's a kind of security in that.

They're unlikely and complicated but real. If all else fails, they'll have each other to keep their feet on the ground, even if their heads will never be out of the clouds. That's the part that matters, more than anything else.

Edited 2015-08-05 17:40 (UTC)

neal/katherine | psl-land | 733 words

alias_savant - 2016-01-01 18:25 (UTC) - Expand

stefan/lydia | psl-land | 658 words

somanyadjectives - 2016-04-27 20:47 (UTC) - Expand

Stefan Salvatore is nearly eighty years old, and he’s never had to work this hard for something before.

It’s very frustrating.

He’s aware that he’s privileged, fortunate to live the way that he does, but he still takes what he feels is owed him even without having to work for it. Women have always been easy, for him and his brother both and while Stefan is the more reserved of the brothers, in the bravado of his latest ripper binge, charming women is something that comes far too easily. At least, until the point it doesn’t. Rebekah makes him work for every fraction of an inch he gains, and were it anyone else, he might have gotten frustrated and walked away but there’s something about her that makes all of the struggle and the satisfaction when she finally gives him that inch worth it.

Later, when he learns that she’s an Original, has lived for more than nine hundred years and is stronger than he will ever be, he probably should feel manipulated. He should feel like she’s had the time and practice to perfect the art of manipulation through seduction to get what she wants, but if anything it just makes him even more determined to succeed, to convince her that his conquest is a rule worth submitting to, even if he knows he will never truly be conquering anything.

He gets her to dance with him first. Then comes her name, Rebekah, and it rolls off her tongue like the answer to a prayer. Neither quest is easy and it’s still not what he wants – there’s still more to push for and he’s willing to find it.

They’re dancing in the corner of the dance floor at Gloria’s, and he’s looking at her with an intensity that usually comes when he’s plotting his next move, and Rebekah smirks over her shoulder as she leans into the spin.

“Is there something you’re waiting for, Mr. Salvatore?”

He smirks in return, pulling her back in again in time with the music. “Has anyone ever told you that being in your company is like playing a game of chess?”

“Chess,” she says curiously, eyeing him carefully as she dances. “Why is that?”

“Every moment must be carefully planned.” He glances to the rest of the room for a moment, before turning his attention back to her again. “Most women would have given in to me by now.” It’s not something he’s particularly proud of, his ability to charm women, but it is a source of frustration when it comes to Rebekah.

She laughs softly, before shaking her head. “I’ve seen many men like you over the centuries, Stefan. I’m not an easy floozy, as some may think. If you wish to win my heart, you must work hard for it.”

“Oh, I intend to,” he says quietly. “Capturing the queen is always the most worthwhile endeavor.”

“I thought the point of chess was to capture the king?”

“Perhaps it is, but the king is easily won. A king may have power and defenses, but his most powerful defense is his queen – take her, and the battle is all but lost.”

Rebekah eyes him curiously for a moment, before tipping her head to the side. “And how would you win this queen? Steal her from another man like a common cad?”

His eyes wander to the man in the back of the club, the one who watches her like a hawk with every move she makes, a kind of possessiveness that usually comes with centuries of being at each other’s side. Another Original, most likely, possibly even her lover, but Stefan is the kind of vampire who does what he wants. He doesn’t care about other men’s wives. He just wants to take. He breaks the gaze of the other vampire and turns back to her again, brazen enough to kiss her right in front of him if she’ll let him.

“Only if she will allow me to.”

She studies him again for a moment, quiet contemplation on her features, before whispering softly. “Perhaps she will.”

If that isn’t his cue, he doesn’t know what is. He surges forward before she can change her mind, one hand coming to rest against the side of her face as he kisses her deeply, drowning in her for as long as she’ll let him. She responds, her hand tightening in his jacket for a moment, before she pushes away, the practiced cool expression faltering into something more open and pleased, as though all detachment had been hard on her as well, and she was eager for that connection to be made. It’s only for a moment, however, before the façade flickers back into place again and she pushes away as the song ends.

“Not so fast, Mr. Salvatore,” she teases, before heading back towards her table. “You haven’t won the queen yet.”

Edited 2016-01-10 14:41 (UTC)

stefan/allison | psl-land | 440 words

somanyadjectives - 2015-08-02 21:54 (UTC) - Expand

neal/rebekah | psl-land | 655 words

alias_savant - 2015-08-02 21:54 (UTC) - Expand

elena/tyler | the vampire diaries | 783 words

braveandstupid - 2015-08-02 21:55 (UTC) - Expand

bela/tyler | psl-land | 866 words

enjoythe_ride - 2015-08-02 21:55 (UTC) - Expand

sam/allison | psl-land | 567 words

imnot_likeyou - 2015-08-02 21:56 (UTC) - Expand

One of the larger adjustments to make when it came to living among the humans was the idea of physical contact. Angels don’t have a physical form and therefore do not use contact to show affection – not that angels are much for affection to begin with – but with humans, that is a different story. Everything is conveyed by touch whether it’s anger and aggression, sadness and grief, or friendship and love. It’s nuanced and speaks far more than simple words will ever say. Given that Castiel is not all that much better at verbal communication than he is at nonverbal, it’s a benefit for him to at least observe and learn.

Handshakes are easy. It’s an odd greeting, to be sure, but a simple grasping of hands requires minimal contact, so long as you remember to pull back before things become “awkward”. Waving is also easy as well as the simple shoulder clasps that Dean is fond of. Short, brief and to the point – Castiel, essentially, in a nutshell. Hugs are slightly more complicated, but much nicer. Somehow the act of grasping someone to you in a firm manner is both restricting yet comforting at the same time. It is as though someone is trying to force the love into them as a means of getting around humanity’s (usual) lack of psychic talent.

It’s everything beyond that that seems to evade him. He doesn’t understand kissing. For a race that is so conscious of germs and other things that are transmitted easily through that kind of contact, they seem incredibly fond of initiating it to begin with. Phoebe tried to explain it to him once, but the explanation essentially amounted to “It’s about finding someone you love so much you don’t mind catching their germs” and that … made even less sense than most of Phoebe’s advice.

(Which isn’t entirely true – Phoebe gives great advice, but that’s mostly to people who know how humans work. Castiel, unfortunately, is still learning.)

Still, it’s not as though Castiel is looking to find out through exploration. He simply keeps observing and watching and hoping that along the way, something will start to make sense. He’s sitting in one of his usual observation points, a bench in Grant Park with Gabriel at his side and Chuck in his pocket. It doesn’t take long after that for one of his friends to find his way to him, and he glances over with a smile as she sits down.

“Hello, Cassie.”

She smiles in return, glancing over with a nod. “Hello, Cas.”

It doesn’t take long for them to fall into idle chatter, their usual routine when they see each other, and it’s only for a moment – Cassie is just taking her lunch break before going back to teaching again – but it’s a good moment all the same. Castiel is really starting to enjoy having friends, especially since the friends are more out of actual enjoyment of his company, than necessity like the Winchesters are. He never thought he would say this of anywhere other than the garrison, but he actually feels a true sense of community here. He likes it. He likes it a lot.

“Well, I have to be off.” Cassie pushes to her feet next to him, readjusting her coat and leaning in to kiss his cheek softly. “See you around, Cas.”

As she walks off, a flash of warmth floods through him. It’s not overt like a hug, but it’s not as uncomfortable as he originally thought. He pauses, contemplating carefully, before nodding once to himself.

Alright. Maybe kisses aren’t so bad.

He’s still not sold on the other stuff.

Edited 2016-01-07 16:23 (UTC)

charlie & dylan | beyond the rift | 585 words

thelightofgrace - 2015-08-03 18:00 (UTC) - Expand

stefan/scarlett | psl-land | 608 words

somanyadjectives - 2015-12-19 17:56 (UTC) - Expand

Kira's scent is one of the first ones that Malia learns to find in the sea of sweaty, hormonal teenagers at Beacon Hills High. Scott teaches it to her as a way to provide her with focus, to drown out the rest of the school and keep her senses from being overwhelmed. She does the same with Kira's voice or Lydia or Stiles, but scent is the instinct that comes easiest, even if she hasn't quite nailed down tracking completely yet.

(Derek's working with her on that too. He's actually a decent teacher, which is surprising to her after what everyone else said about him, but he understands her instincts in a way they don't.)

Still, Kira is easy to find at this point, even if her scent is always yo-yoing around for no apparent reason. Part of it is probably because Kira isn't always calm, anxiety creeping in in a way that makes Malia's stomach churn to the point where it's distracting. She understands that human reactions are different from coyotes, but that kind of sickly twist in the air usually only comes in the form of a predator, which immediately kicks Malia's fight-or-flight instincts into high gear. It's why she calls her out on it so much, if for no other reason than talking about it seems to calm her, at least a little.

Malia doesn't always get why she's anxious, but at least the scent goes away and she's back to smelling like Kira again.

Lately, however, there's something new mixed in with all the usual anxiety and normal teenage emotions and it's something she used to only notice around Scott, so she assumed that it was for him. It isn't until she starts to notice it more and more around her, when the boys weren't around, that she starts to get curious.

Coyotes don't really do bisexuality, at least not as far as Malia knows. Sex was always about procreation, and that was it, but with humans it's different. Humans like to touch and taste and explore, and it's not just about continuing the species, so practically speaking, why not explore with girls too. Malia's always been pragmatic, even if she doesn't always understand. So when she and Kira are studying one night, she tries it - kind of like an experiment in science class. If Malia kisses Kira, then ...

... well, she doesn't have a solid hypothesis. But part of her is hoping at least Kira kisses her back.

So she tries it. Kira is rambling about math, and personally Malia hates math, so mid-sentence, she leans in and cuts the other girl off, just holding the kiss for a moment as she pays attention to everything else. She can already hear Kira's heart racing and anxiety rising, but underneath the familiar anxiety is that something new and different, something sweeter and better, and Malia wants more of that.

She pushes into the kiss harder, as though that will make things better, but before things can go too far, Kira pulls back, flustered and sputtering.

"Why did you do that?"

"I wanted to." You wanted me to. She pauses, then shrugs. "I just wanted to try it."

" ... Oh." Kira's quiet for a moment, eyes darting around the room for a moment. "Just ... ask next time, okay?"

"Okay." She pauses again, watching her face carefully, before tipping her head to the side with a curious smirk. "Want to do it again?"

Edited 2015-08-10 17:58 (UTC)

"You're an idiot."

"You're welcome."

Jason's tone is dry, but it doesn't have the usual bite behind it. It's probably the fact that he's barely recovering from almost bleeding to death, but even if he can't put the affect behind it, she can hear it, sarcastic and teasing all at the same. She rolls her eyes on instinct alone, but she's incredibly grateful for a lot of things. Him still being alive being one of them.

"You need to stop trying to save me." The look he fixes her with is one that probably would go along the lines of fat chance, and that only serves to frustrate her more. As far as she's concerned, she's not worth dying for. Not when it's people she cares about being caught in the crossfire. She's already lost too many of those as it is.

"That, is definitely not going to happen." He says, starting to shift into a sitting position that is followed by a wince, and she rolls her eyes before pushing him back down again, pulling some of his pain gently as she does.

"I can take care of myself."

"The number of times you've died here says otherwise." He does as she says, leaning back against the couch again with a heavy sigh.

"Everyone dies here."

"Cora."

He's almost good as Derek at that, simply saying her name and her understanding all the meanings within it. She's not sure which says more - the fact that they've bonded enough that he can do that or the fact that they've bonded enough that she'll listen to the don't make light of this, not everyone who dies comes back, just because it happens to everyone doesn't make it easier when it's you.

It doesn't make it easier to swallow than if it was coming from someone else, but she swallows it all the same. For a minute, anyway.

"Yeah, well, you try and save me, you die, and then I die anyway. So it's pointless." Him dying for her doesn't actually save her, and then there's a chance that he won't be the one to come back. They both need to be more careful - he can't just lay the blame on her.

"I didn't die this time."

"Jason."

He sighs. "Alright, fine. No more dumb heroics. But that's only if you promise the same."

She presses her lips together for a moment, considering, before nodding. "Fine. Agreed. No more dumb heroics."

They'll both last a week, maybe a month at most. It's in their instincts at this point - Cora's to protect (to fight) and Jason's to protect her. But you can't say they at least didn't try to be smart about it.

Jason slumps back against the couch with a sigh, closing his eyes as he tries to focus on healing more than anything else, and looks up at her with his best do it for me because I'm cute smile. "Think you can get me some water?"

Cora nods as she pushes herself to her feet. "Yeah. I'll be right back." She starts to walk away before pausing, turning again, and leaning in to kiss him on the cheek softly. "Thank you." For saving her, even if she had been ungrateful previously.

His eyes blink open and he flashes her a more genuine smile before nodding. "Anytime."

Edited 2015-10-02 17:02 (UTC)

Barry comes into the main area of STAR Labs and is greeted by a line of shot glasses, each containing a similar, suspiciously clear liquid. He recognizes the liquid from the first time that Caitlin tried to combat the speed demon that is his metabolism, and he is immediately suspicious of this entire set up.

“Uh … Cicso?” He frowns as he glances around for any sign of his friend. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Science. That’s what’s going on.” Cisco is coming out of that room, this time with a tray of the same clear shot glasses, placing them at the very end of the table. “We’re going to solve your ‘can’t get drunk’ problem.”

“We are?” Barry seems dubious for a moment, his eyes darting from Cisco to the shot glasses for a moment. “Are we sure this is safe?”

“Of course it is,” he replies, giving Barry a look that falls somewhere along the lines of don’t you trust me. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Uh, probably because of the long line of liver disease that tends to come with alcohol abuse.”

“Yeah, but you have super-fast regenerating cells.”

“If you make alcohol strong enough to scorch my liver on contact, I’m not sure that’s something my cells can just fix after a while.”

“Risk versus reward, Barry,” Cisco responds as he sets the tray down at the end of the table. “Do you want to spend the rest of your twenties sober and miserable, or do you want to get buzzed like the rest of us?”

Barry looks at him skeptically for a moment, before shrugging. “Just if by some miracle this actually works, keep me here, okay? Don’t let me super-speed drunk.” Because he already knows that will be disastrous for everyone.

“Deal.” Cisco then holds out his hand over the counter. “And I’m also going to take your phone.”

“Why?” Barry asks as fishes out his phone to hand over anyway.

“Because on the off chance we succeed, I don’t need you drunk texting Iris or Patty either.”

Barry hesitates only for a moment, eyes looking up so that he’s looking more at the ceiling, before nodding and handing over his phone. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

“I thought so.” Cisco pockets Barry’s phone before rolling his shoulders and handing him the first shot glass. “Okay, these first three each go up by a higher proof. Then the other three are this idea I had that maybe it’s not the proof, but more how quickly the alcohol breaks down in your system. So these are me and Caitlin playing with a compound that’s more of a slow-release kind of thing.”

“Cool,” Barry says with a nod, before glancing back to the tray. “So what are those for?”

“Those are for the end and a last ditch quantity effort.”

“Okay.” Barry nods before going to pick up the first shot glass with a heavy sigh. “For science, right?”

“For science,” Cisco nods and down the hatch it goes.

He will never get used to that burn. Ever.

* * * * *

An hour later, they had worked their way through all the shots and in the end, the solution seems to be somewhere in a combination of the two. A high proof with a strong slow-release formula to combat Barry’s fast burning metabolism and that seems to make his buzz last at least a little bit longer than just the high proof on his own.

“At least there’s one good thing from this,” Barry says as they finally hit the tray of shots at the end. “I’ll probably never get a hangover again. Ever.”

“Don’t count me out yet, man,” Cisco smirks, as he sets his clipboard to the side to show the results to Caitlin later. “You know me, I don’t stop until the problem is solved.”

“You know, this really isn’t all that serious a problem,” Barry points out. “I’m sure there are way more important things we should be worrying about right now.” Like Zoom. And the breachers. And trying to save Harry’s daughter. All things that are probably way more important than Barry’s ability to get inebriated.

“Yeah, but sometimes your brain needs a break. And over-dwelling’s never really helped us solve anything.”

“Good point.” Barry takes a deep breath before glancing down at the tray of shots in front of him. “Ready?”

“Let’s do this.”

The shots disappear incredibly quickly, as is Barry’s way. Doing it quickly means he doesn’t have to think about how awful it tastes or how strong the burn is for too long before the next one comes down. He finishes the last one and makes the most elaborate face as a result shaking out his tongue and making displeased noises.

“Oh God, that’s like swallowing gasoline.”

Cisco makes a sympathetic face. “Yeah, I was worried about that. I thought about cutting them with something but it would ruin the potency and could affect the control.”

“It definitely needs to be cut with something. Like Sprite. Or Coke. Or Mello Bello – I mean Mello Yello.” There’s a moment of silence before there’s a brief giggle. “Heh. Mello Bello. Bet you can’t say Mello Yello five times fast.”

“Dude,” Cisco gives him a look at first like what are you talking about before realization dawns on him. “Dude are you buzzed right now?”

“Mello Yello, Mello Yello, Mell – what?” Barry blinks at him for a moment, before his eyes widen. “Oh my God. I think I am. I think I’m actually drunk.”

Victory arms immediately grow up on both sides of the table as Cisco makes his way around to clap his hands on his shoulder. “Yeah, man. I told you I would make it happen.”

Barry stands, wobbly, and places his hands on the shorter man’s shoulders to steady himself. “You are the best, man. I couldn’t have done it without you.” He leans forward and throws his arm around Cisco’s shoulders and presses a kiss to the top of his dramatically. “You are the most awesome scientist ever.”

“Iris failed to mention that you are a completely touchy feely drunk.”

“Iris.” A lazy smile crosses his face. “What about Iris?”

“Nothing, dude. Never mind.” Cisco pries one arm off him, before going to steer Barry towards a chair. “We should get you to sit before you hurt yourself.”

Barry goes where he’s guided, sitting down on the stool and glances up at him as though he’s about to say something equally dopey, and then the glazed over look fades with a frown. “And it’s gone.”

Cisco smirks, before shaking his head. “Hey, man, progress is progress.”

“Do you think in our next bit of ‘progress’ you can distill something that actually tastes good?”

“One step at a time, man,” Cisco nods. “One step at a time.”

Edited 2016-02-11 19:27 (UTC)

“No.”

There’s a shift from the man standing next to her, opening his mouth as though he’s supposed to say something, before she holds up a finger to interrupt him.

“No. Hell no.”

“It is our only way of getting out of here.” Alec points out as he crosses his arms in front of his chest, raising an eyebrow in a kind of expectant do you really expect us to be stuck here for all eternity expression, and she wants to respond with yes. Yes, she would be stuck here for all eternity. She values her dignity far too much to sink down without it and she isn’t about to start now.

“I’m not going to kiss you. Not when you are the one who got us into this mess by not paying attention to your surroundings or checking for magical traps.” And considering how often Malina hurls magic at him for pissing her off, she thinks that he should have picked up on that by now.

Alec huffs for a moment. “If this is a magic trap, can’t you anti-magic it or something?”

“Tried. Trust me, I tried.” She shakes her head, equally huffy. “Whoever did this is a stronger sorcerer than I am.”

“You mean you aren’t the expert on all things magic. Shocker.” Malina glances over at him with a glare and starts to raise her hand, and he flinches away from her on instinct. “Here? Seriously? Aren’t you worried about some kind of magical backlash boomerang?”

Malina considers for a moment, before shrugging. “Probably worth it, if you don’t restrict your actual speech to things that will actually be useful.”

Alec makes a face at her before repeating her words in a childish tone, before turning his eyes back to the rest of the room, almost as though he’s ready to do actual work now. Malina relaxes in response, ready to do the same. Bossing him around is part of her job as his mentor. She just wished that every once in a while he would actually listen to the things she says instead of just babbling on and on about it. She manages to get distracted from whatever he’s doing for a few minutes as she starts to seriously focus on the problem at hand when suddenly a pair of hands are grabbing her by the shoulders and spinning her to face him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she says, trying to shove him off her, but she is not as strong as he is.

“Making an executive decision,” he replies, before pulling her in and kissing her. Malina flails uselessly against his hold, trying to fight her way free of it, but that doesn’t happen until the barrier sealing them in breaks and they’re free to step away from each other.

Malina shoves him backwards, stumbling a bit as she brings one hand up to swipe at her mouth in disgust. Alec looks smug, the asshole, and he holds out his hands to the side, pleased with the relative success of his plan.

“See? Was that so hard?”

Malina doesn’t say anything for a very long time. In fact, the silence that extends between them only seems to get longer and longer the more he waits, and the look on his face starts to get more and more apprehensive. Malina being silent is never a good thing, especially when that silence comes with anger attached. Smug satisfaction starts to fade to uncertainty, to something that might just possibly be fear, if Alec were the type to show fear.

“I’m not sorry,” he spits out finally, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “It needed to be done, and just because you couldn’t suck it up and deal with it – ”

Before he an even finish the sentence, arcs of lightning shoot out from her palm and she clamps that hand down against his arm, grasping it tightly so that the shock of electricity shoots through him. He cries out in pain before dropping to his knees with a harsh wheeze.

“Okay.” He rasps. “I might have deserved that.”

“Damn straight you did,” she sighs, before shaking her head and stalking off. “Let’s find the rest of the team.”

“You’re still a psychopath!”

“Tell me something I don’t already know!”

Edited 2016-03-04 19:01 (UTC)

The trips down to the water get more and more frequent as time goes on, just sitting on the water’s edge and waiting for her mermaid to come to her. Part of her wishes that she could go to her, that she had fins and gills and could just disappear into the ocean with Lana and never return to the world where she’s expected to marry a nice boy and be a good wife and live happily ever after. She doesn’t want to do any of those things. She just wants to be free.

She can’t ever be free, though. Even when her little trysts in the water with the mermaid are over, she needs to return to her family’s palace and deal with suitor after suitor. But for now, she is free, to let her fingers linger in the water, feel it swirl around her legs and wait for the Lana to return to shore.

Eventually, Lana’s head rises over the water and she flashes her a wide smile. Kara is more than happy to see her, smiling in return as she reaches out to play with her hair.

“I’ve heard a lot of strange stories about mermaids, you know.”

“Have you?” Lana asks curiously, pushing up on the rock a bit more. “And what do they say about us?”

“That you are cruel temptresses, looking to lure man to their deaths on the sea,” she replies. “That your hearts are as cold as the ocean is dark and deep.”

“Do you believe them?”

Kara pauses for a moment, tipping her head to the side as she watches her. “You have been nothing but kind to me. I don’t believe everything I read.”

“Good,” Lana smiles as she pushes herself closer. “Because I would hate to lose our friendship over the words of men.”

Kara pauses for a moment, twirling her finger in Lana’s wet hair for a moment. “Is that all we are? A simple friendship?”

Lana’s head tips into her touch, before leaning in closer. “Isn’t that the right word?”

“Maybe.” There’s another pause, before she meets the other woman’s eyes. “But there is something I’ve been wanting to try.”

“What is that?”

Kara considers carefully for a moment, glancing back over her shoulder to the shore to make sure no one would come upon them, before leaning forward and brushing her lips to the other woman’s. It sent a rush through her, a kind of tingle she hadn’t anticipated and before she can think twice about it, she’s leaning in to do it again, and letting off a soft sigh when the woman returns it just as softly.

After a moment, she pulls back to look at her with a small smile. “That is not usually a gesture for friends.”

“I see,” Lana pauses for a moment, before pushing up to lean closer. “What is that usually a gesture for?”

“Lovers.” The word comes quickly, without hesitation. “It’s a gesture for lovers.”

“And what do lovers do?”

That is the moment where Kara falters. Because while she knows, academically, what lovers do, she isn’t sure how to demonstrate that for Lana. She glances back over her shoulder before slipping off the rock and into the water, and moving closer.

“I will have to show you.”

Lana smiles as she reaches for Kara’s hand to pull her closer.

“Then show me.”

Edited 2016-04-17 00:31 (UTC)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

Word Count:30,094

emma }

cora/abigail/alek | monkeybars | 323 words

christopher/piper | psl-land | 646 words

christopher/ruby | psl-land | 839 words

david & lila | knights of legend | 757 words

neal/kali | teleios | 947 words

bo/kali | post-teleios | 675 words

bo/silena | camp half-blood au | 485 words

bo/aggie | psl-land | 444 words

david/silena | psl-land | 931 words

sean/aggie | tuwiuwok | 769 words

ella }

alek/cora | psl-land | 603 words

wizera }

damon/buffy | bete noire/teleios-ish | 737 words

rose }

bo/elektra | psl-land | 529 words

rizzy }

cora/peter | (could have been) teleios | 741 words

alison }

peter/buffy | canon au | 345 words

august }

peter/el | white collar | 587 words

christina }

neal/parker | swallow the lies | 212 words

katie }

stefan/rebekah | canon | 817 words

cheryl }

cas & cassie | beyond the rift | 608 words

eris }

malia/kira | teen wolf | 579 words

rynn }

jason/cora | denouement-ish | 559 words

chris }

barry & cisco | the flash | 1,137 words

jesse }

alec & malina | knights of legend | 717 words

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kara/lana | mermaid au | 564 words

Word Count:
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