iluvroadrunner6 | prompt table { 2016 } 100 situations

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prompt table { 2016 } 100 situations

Because I intend to finish this table one way or the other - please feel free to claim prompts from the list below. Anything with a link or a strikethrough is off limits, but otherwise, comment below and I will mark your prompts as claimed!

001.	Tired	002.	Back Alley	003.	Sunrise	004.	Late	005.	Son
006.	Hot	007.	Friend	008.	Floor	009.	Cheat	010.	Think
011.	Disgust	012.	Shelter	013.	Borrow	014.	Chair	015.	Alter
016.	Peace	017.	Beach	018.	True	019.	Crazy	020.	Love
021.	New	022.	Beggar	023.	False	024.	Happy	025.	Cancer
026.	Pickpocket	027.	Reverse	028.	Deliver	029.	Arrival	030.	Fall
031.	Knife	032.	Torn	033.	Danger	034.	Neutral	035.	Mate
036.	Fly	037.	Loud	038.	Touch	039.	Seek	040.	Argue
041.	Work	042.	Sink	043.	Nut	044.	Stuck	045.	Animal
046.	Pray	047.	Kill	048.	Light	049.	Cold	050.	Affair
051.	Restaurant	052.	Movie	053.	Wait	054.	Patient	055.	Crime
056.	Choke	057.	Fever	058.	Summer	059.	Eat	060.	Thirst
061.	Chance	062.	Appear	063.	Whisper	064.	Day	065.	Scream
066.	Fail	067.	Confused	068.	Smile	069.	Come	070.	Alone
071.	Fast	072.	Slow	073.	Return	074.	Fire	075.	Positive
076.	Baby	077.	Upset	078.	Kitchen	079.	Winter	080.	Ignorant
081.	Fool	082.	Afraid	083.	Prison	084.	Sex	085.	Hate
086.	Alarm	087.	Genius	088.	Negative	089.	Flood	090.	Bomb
091.	Hospital	092.	Trap	093.	Celebrate	094.	Old	095.	Disappear
096.	Writer‘s Choice.	097.	Writer‘s Choice.	098.	Writer‘s Choice.	099.	Writer‘s Choice.	100.	Writer‘s Choice.

Prompts Written: 100/100
Total Word Count: 124,261 words

Fill Plurk | Fill Plurk 2

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

Bomb - NY!Wolves verse
Seek - Regency Liam & Malia
Genius - Spamalot Lydia & Parrish
Son - Cora & Ben

“This really isn’t what I had in mind for tonight.”

“You and me both.”

Flack’s tone is apologetic, speaking the apology without actually saying it, but the crowds of policemen and civilians trying to be corralled around them mostly speaks for itself. The situation that they’re in now isn’t really Flack’s fault, exactly. He couldn’t have known that the day that he managed to get himself and Derek fairly decent seats to the Knicks game as a high school graduation present is also the day that a bomb scare would be called in to Madison Square Garden, but apparently that’s the curse of being an NYPD cop. You go where the action happens, and on the off chance you decide against it, the action can always come to you.

Flack manages to get himself positioned at the barricade closest to Derek, the teenage boy letting his eyes wander over the scene as crowds of police officers try to keep the people back while they investigate the buildings.

“At least there are no casualties this time,” he murmurs, eyes glancing over the crowd, then back to the Homeland Security agents that are handling the scene, and then back to Derek again. “Last time Messer and I went to a ball game someone dropped dead at center court.”

“Seriously?” Derek’s eyebrows go up curiously. “Did he have a heart attack or something?”

“Nope. Poisoned.” Derek’s eyebrows shoot up even higher and Flack smirks. “One of the cheerleaders had it in for him. Rigged the halftime contest so that she could get close to him and used her lipstick to poison him when she gave him a kiss on the cheek.”

“Note to self: never piss off a cheerleader.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Flack shakes his head. “They are far scarier than they make themselves out to be.”

Derek’s quiet for a moment as his fingers drum against the side of the barricade for a moment, taking his time to figure out what to say next. “I’ll be okay, you know. You don’t have to stay here and babysit me.”

“Are you kidding? Your sister’s probably seen all this rigmarole on the news by now. She is scarier than any cheerleader.”

Derek smirks a bit at that, but some tension relaxes in his shoulders. Flack knows that Derek probably didn’t actually want him to go anywhere. He just didn’t want it to seem like he was taking him away from his job. “I guess most people would probably expect you to get into a turf war with the Homeland Security guys about it.”

“Eh, they can have this one. It’s my night off.” Not that he’s not technically working anyway, but he at least has a say in how much he works. Crowd control is something he can do without thinking too hard about it.

There’s another brief bout of silence, before Derek looks up at him again, some of the uncertainty still wearing on his face. “Do you think I would make a good cop?”

The question catches him by surprise, because it’s not a career he had figured Derek for considering. He knows that the Hales have their reasons for keeping a low profile and things could get complicated on their end of things, one way or another, but there’s still something interesting about the fact that he asked the question to begin with.

“Maybe.” He considers for a moment. “Do you want to be a cop?”

“Maybe.” The answer is non-committal, almost as though he’s trying to weigh all the pros and cons in his head and come up with what the right answer is exactly supposed to be. “I like solving puzzles. And I think I’d be good at it.”

“You’d have to put in a whole lot of leg work before you become a detective.”

“I know.” There’s another pause. “I want to be better at protecting people.”

Flack wants to be able to tell him that there are no perfect ways to learn that particular skill. It isn’t something where you just flip a switch and suddenly you’re better at it. There are still people you won’t be able to save at the end of the day. But he doesn’t want to discourage him. It’s the most productive career path he’s heard Derek come up with so far, and in a lot of ways, he could be really good at it.

“You’d have to get a handle on that temper of yours.” Because at the end of the day, Derek is still a pretty angry kid, with good reason to be. “And you’d still have to go to school – at least to get an associates.”

“I can do that.” Derek almost seems to light up at the encouragement, a bright smile crossing his face. “My sister made me register at the local community college anyway. You can help me figure out what to study.”

“Sure.” Just as he nods his agreement, one of the federal agents starts speaking over the megaphone, announcing that they were all clear and everyone was free to either return to the stadium for the rest of the game, or collect voucher tickets for another night. Flack waits until Derek slips past the barricade to his side, before glancing at the two lines and then back to Derek again.

“What do you think? Stay for the game, or pick up some vouchers and go grab a slice?”

Derek thinks for a moment before shaking his head. “Pizza. We can go another night.”

Flack nods in agreement, giving his shoulders a squeeze and heading towards the ticket counter. “Pizza it is.”

As their children get older, some traditions are kept to as often as possible. Friday night date nights are a regular staple of the Stilinski household, as well as daddy-daughter days with Stiles and Dina. As Ben begins to get older, however, he begins to become a bit more aware of the fact that he’s being left out of primo dad time, and it makes it a bit harder for his older sister and her dad to have the alone time they’re looking for. Which, naturally, led to mommy-son days with Cora and Ben.

It’s not that he’s getting something he wouldn’t have gotten before. With Stiles and Dina out of the house, it would have been just Cora and Ben hanging out to begin with. But at least now he feels like he’s getting something special in return, which appeases him just enough to cut down on the complaining.

The cheers from the crowd echo through the air as they make their way into the large stadium, with strobe lights and fog machines running non-stop. The small boy looks around with wide eyes as his mother leads him through the crowd, keeping a tight grip on her hand as they go.

“Where are we going?” he asks as they head through the room, not able to see anything from his particular height and Cora turns to scoop him up quickly as they make their way to the front. Ahead of them are tall Plexiglas walls that raise up to protect the audience while various contestants make their way to their bullpens. As they get closer, he can see more of the obstacles that are set up within the course and the bumpers to keep them from getting stuck on the wall. “What is this place?”

“This is a BattleBots competition.” She makes her way down to one of the front rows to sit them down, directly behind an Asian woman who is looking over what looks like a tricked out remote control car. “And this is Mommy’s friend Hannah.”

Andrea looks up from her work when she hears her name and lights up when she sees Cora. “You made it! And you brought a friend.”

“This is my son, Ben,” she says with a grin, tickling his sides a bit when he looks like he’s going to be shy about the situation. “Ben, Hannah and I went to school together in Boston.”

“You mean that time Daddy doesn’t like to talk about?”

“Yes, that would be the one.” The dismissal is quick, before she moves on to the current matter at hand. “Hannah is going to be challenging all the robots here to see which one is the best. If she beats all her competitors, she wins a big prize.”

“Do you get a trophy?”

Hannah smiles at the question before nodding. “Oh, yeah. A big one.”

“Cool.” Ben grins as he leans back against his mom’s chest, settling into their seat more. “Do we get to watch them fight?”

“Yep,” Cora nods as she points out to the arena. “They’ll start there, and whoever is the last robot standing wins.”

“Okay,” he nods. “If Hannah loses can we still stay for the rest of them?”

Hannah glances up and scoffs, but the fact that she’s teasing is obvious. “Why do you assume I’m gonna lose, huh?”

Ben puts on his best innocent face and shrugs at her. “I’m just saying, anything can happen.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure.”

Cora just laughs, before nodding. “Yes, we can stay as long as you want.”

“Awesome,” he grins, before the lights go down and the announcer comes over the loudspeakers.

“LET’S GET READY TO RUMBLLLLLLLLLLLLLLE.”

Ben presses back against his mother in excitement, and Cora grins. “Here we go.”

- - - - -

By the time they reach the end of the show, Ben is worn out and has his head slumped against his mom’s shoulder as they make their way out of the arena. Hannah doesn’t win the trophy – in fact, her bot gets knocked out in the first round due to an unfortunate technical difficulty – but that doesn’t diminish their night out any. Ben still has a blast, and she’s more than ready to take him home at this point.

“That was fun, Mommy.”

“Yeah?” she grins as she buckles him into his car seat. “Good. I’m glad you had a good time.”

Ben nods as the harness clicks into place. “Did you make robots with Hannah when you were in college?”

“Yeah,” Cora says with a small smile as she reaches up to brush his hair back from his forehead. “Me and Hannah were on the same robotics team. We used to build robots all the time.”

“Do you think we could build robots?” His eyes are closing and he’s so close to sleep that it’s a question he likely will not remember asking in the morning, but she’ll still answer all the same.

“Sure, kiddo. We can build all the robots you want.”

“Can we build them tomorrow?”

She laughs in response before nodding. “We’ll see. We might not have all the tools we need.”

“Daddy has a lot of tools, though.”

“I know.” She leans forward to kiss his forehead gently, before pulling back with a smile. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

“Okay,” is the last word he manages to get out before he passes out in the back seat and Cora can’t help but smile in response.

- - - - -

CLANG CLANG CLANG

Stiles’ eyebrows furrow as he turns towards the sound of banging as he and Cora are sitting down to breakfast the next morning. Cora pauses over the edge of her coffee as she turns and sees Ben making his way down the stairs, dragging a large tool box behind him.

“Whatcha got there, Benji?” Stiles asks, confused. It’s not that Ben hadn’t shown an interest in his tools before, but this seems much more deliberate than usual.

“Getting the tools ready,” he replies simply as he drags them over to the coffee table in the living room and places the toolbox down on top of it. “Mommy and I are going to build robots!”

“Are you?” Stiles glances back to his wife, and she gives a small shrug in return.

“I said that we would see, sleepy head. Go figures you would forget that part.”

Ben just grins brightly back at her in return. “But look! I found all of Daddy’s tools that we can use.”

“And that’s great, kiddo, but I don’t know if those tools are going to work.” Cora admits lamely. “I need special robot building tools.”

“Can we get them from the robot building store?”

The question is asked so innocently, and she can see Stiles laughing at the situation from across the table, though he at least did her the service of turning away from his son. “I don’t know. We’ll have to do some googling.”

“Okay. I’ll get Daddy’s tablet.”

He darts off out of the room again, and Cora sighs heavily, before she turns back to her husband. “This is your fault.”

“How is this my fault?”

“I’m pretty sure selective hearing is a Stilinski exclusive gene.”

“Uh-huh,” he smirks at her in return as little feet come running back towards the breakfast table and Ben scrambles into his mother’s lap with the tablet in hand. “Are you seriously going to build robots?”

“Yes!” Ben replies for her. “And we’re going to enter the competition and win the giant trophy!”

Stiles laughs as he gets up and moves over to kiss his wife on the cheek. “Alright then. Happy hunting.”

Edited 2016-07-15 00:06 (UTC)

“Where are we going?”

Liam’s voice is almost drowned out by the pounding of the rain around her, as they push through the woods, slowly getting soaked to the skin. The damp, heavy material of her gowns is starting to weigh her down but they need to get to shelter sooner rather than later. A few ripped dresses aren’t all that important in the face of seeking shelter from the weather.

“My family has a cabin not too far from here,” she replies, keeping her hand in his so they don’t lose each other in the denseness of the rain. “We’ll be safe there until the storm blows over.”

Liam looks like he wants to argue, like the idea of being in an enclosed space with Malia is not one of the better options she’s given him, but Malia isn’t interested in arguing about anything at the moment, so she’s not giving him the opportunity. While she and Liam have had their differences as of late, she also doesn’t want him to get lost or hurt in the middle of the storm. And in many ways, she’s missed her best friend, and doesn’t want to have this continued silence between them. She simply doesn’t know how to fix it.

Clearly forcing them to spend time together is the best option.

The interior of the cabin smells of dust mixed with rain water, the kind of scent usually reserved for the earth right after a storm has abated, and she’s quick to pull Liam inside after her, before shutting the door with a sigh of relief. The chill of the unheated house sets in quickly, and she pushes away from the door to keep herself moving and hopefully keep herself warm. “I’m going to find some towels. Do you think you can try and start a fire with the wood there?”

Most of the furniture is covered in sheets, the way it is usually left when the family will not be staying there, but there is also usually a heavy stock of firewood in the far corner. Brushing the droplets of water from his hair, Liam glances down at his dripping wet form and sighs, just for a moment.

“Perhaps it would be better if we found the towels first. Wet wood is no good for a fire.”

Malia hesitates at that, because the sooner the fire is going, the sooner they will be warmer, but she understands the logic and nods. “I’ll see what I can find.”

The towels are easy to locate first. Dry clothes comes soon after, with something of her cousin’s for Liam and something of hers as well. It’s fortunate that they were just there the last summer. Soon after they both are dry and their clothes are spread out in the bathroom to dry as well, they are curled up in front of the fire, trying to huddle together for as much warmth as they can.

“I’m sorry if any of this is uncomfortable for you,” he says slowly, almost as though he feels he has to, but doesn’t entirely mean it. “I know I haven’t been one of your confidants as of late.”

Malia doesn’t say anything at first, not wanting to lay blame on him again, even though she feels he still carries a lot of it. She knows that isn’t how you make amends, whether you are in the right or not.

“There are worst people to be stuck with.” She makes a face as Theo comes to mind. “I would prefer you over them.”

There’s a look on Liam’s face that he isn’t sure how to take that, but in the end he simply nods his agreement. “Thank you?”

She smirks. “Besides. You haven’t been so bad.”

“I thought you were still mad at me.”

“I am.” It’s not as strong or visceral as it was before, but she would be a fool to deny that the anger was still there. “It’s just … more complicated now.”

“More complicated?”

“It’s not as simple as me being angry with you for betraying my family. It’s … I don’t know. It’s harder to stay angry about things when there are too many points of view.” And it’s fairly certain to say that Malia doesn’t like things that are complicated on any level.

She shivers as a draft whips through the house, and Liam shifts one of the blankets so that it drapes gently around her shoulders. She sighs as she leans into the warmth of him, body seeking out that needed warmth.

“If it helps, I promise to never leave you again.”

It’s a comforting thought, and she wants to believe it, but she’s been burned by Liam before. As much as she wants to trust him, it’s hard to do so. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“This one I intend to. You have my word as a knight.”

Malia looks up at him for a moment, before she exhales with a nod and leans into his shoulder again. “We’ll see.”

Lydia’s fingers crumple the edges of her velvety dress in her hands as she sits in the car, staring at the glowing lights of the venue not too far away. Part of her feels frozen, unsure if she should even go in there, despite the fact that she was invited. It’s the first real campus event she’s attended since her trip to Eichen House, and she isn’t sure she’s even really wanted. She just keeps staring for a moment before Parrish’s hand slips over hers, linking their fingers together as he does.

“I don’t think they’re going to bite.”

There’s a pause before she glances over at him, the uncertainty clear in her expression as she swallows hard. “No, but there might be a fair amount of awkward staring, and I think I had enough of that on my first day back at work. This is the first official staff event since my little stint in the insane asylum.”

“I think you can survive the awkward staring.”

“Maybe, but I’d almost prefer them being out to bite me.” She sighs heavily, her free hand coming up to pinch the bridge of her nose, so as not to disturb her make up. “I used to be their golden goose, future Field Medal recipient. Now I’ve gone to the John Nash end of the spectrum and that’s not necessarily a good thing.”

“Okay, fair.” She hears him shift in his seat as he turns to face her, resting one arm on the steering wheel as he does. “But you going to Eichen House doesn’t make you any less of a genius. Their genius. You just have to remind them of that.”

“That’s not going to be easy. Academia is incredibly judgmental.”

“And the rest of the world isn’t?” He tips his head to the side. “I still get weird stares now that I’m back at work. But they’re getting better.” She opens her mouth to give some kind of protest, and he cuts her off. “It’s not going to get better if you keep avoiding things. You have to show them you’re fine, just as much as telling them.”

She huffs. “I know.”

“We don’t have to stay for the whole thing, either.” He squeezes her hand gently. “We can stay until things are really too weird, and then we can leave. If you don’t think your colleague will be too upset.”

“Honestly, I’d be surprised if he’s even here,” she replies. “He’s not exactly known for the hobnobbing and ass kissing of academic events, even if it’s his ass their kissing.”

“Even better. We go in, stay long enough to not be rude, and leave. No harm, no foul.”

She pauses, considering the offer for a moment, before nodding her agreement. “Alright. I think that could work.”

“Good,” he nods before smirking at her. “C’mon. Time to go show me off.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Show you off?”

“Obviously in this scenario, you’re the brains and I’m the pretty one,” he teases, moving to climb out of the car. “My only job here is to look nice.”

She laughs as he comes around to open her door and offers his hand to her. As she takes it, she gives it a small squeeze and lowers herself to the ground. “Not the only reason you’re here.”

He tips forward and leans in to kiss her gently, before offering his arm. “Ready to go?”

She pauses, taking a deep breath, before nodding and taking his arm. “Let’s do this.”

Sink - Bruce and Jessica
Celebrate - Cora and Tyler
Alarm - Freya and Rebekah

“There’s a cockroach in your sink.”

“Why are you still here?”

Jessica looks less than amused as she stumbles to consciousness and stares Bruce down. He’s looking considerably less Batman-like than he did last night before she passed out, but he still manages to look too good to be standing in the middle of Jessica’s shit-hole of an apartment, with his two thousand dollar three-piece suit and his perpetual air of judgement.

“You don’t seem surprised.”

“That you’re still here or that Captain Cockroach has made a grand reappearance?”

Bruce’s eyebrows go up at that, but his tone is clearly teasing as he does. “You named your cockroach.”

“It’s a hallmark of living in Hell’s Kitchen. Once you start naming your cockroaches, you know you’re here for good.” She rubs at her face as she goes for her desk drawer, looking to see if there’s another bottle lurking somewhere, but before she can open it, Bruce’s hand lands on her wrist. “You clearly want to lose that hand.”

He doesn’t let go, but he does loosen his grip. “How about I buy you breakfast?”

“I usually take my breakfast liquid.”

“You know a place that does that?”

There’s a brief flash of Luke’s old place going up in smoke and flames, and she pushes the memories away for now. “I used to.”

“Then how about you do a liquid lunch and have an actual breakfast with me instead.”

“There’s a surprising lack of judgement in that statement. Color me impressed.” She sighs as she finally pulls away, but goes for the leather jacket resting on the chair instead of the drawer. Jacket first, then boots, before she waves her hand and gestures for him to follow. “C’mon. I know just the place.”

* * * * *

The diner across the street from Josie’s usually gets most of it’s business around two or three AM, when they need to dry people out. Everyone knows the only thing you don’t order at Josie’s is the water, so most people take their friends here to wash the booze out of their system and get them some coffee and a good greasy meal to handle the hangover later. That being said, it’s still not a place where you’d expect to see Bruce Wayne, who looks decidedly out of place and has already drawn the whispers of the early morning patrons, some of them nursing hangovers and some of them just dropping in for a quick bite of solid food on their way to work. The back alley entrance is covered in graffiti and smells that really are better off left unidentified and while the inside is clean, it still has that decidedly Hell’s Kitchen grunge to it that you can never really wash out.

“This is the place?” Bruce asks as he settles into the booth across from her, eyes wandering the “working poor” of it all, and while his expression isn’t evident disgust, it’s not necessarily “I feel right at home” either.

“Yep,” she says with a sly smile. “Best pork roll in Hell’s Kitchen.”

The look on Bruce’s face says he isn’t entirely sure whether or not to question that, but for now he’ll let it go in favor of why he’s actually here. Jessica knows what that question is, and she’s going to definitely stall long enough to avoid him asking it. “And if we’re not looking for a breakfast completely covered in grease?” He raises his eyebrows at her over the top of his menu.

She smirks. “The French toast is pretty good. I’d stay away from the fruit though – it’s not exactly known for being fresh.”

“Duly noted.”

The waitress swings by with fresh coffee and takes their orders, but as she swings away again, a more shrewd look crosses Jessica’s face as she considers him. She’s gone along with the ruse of him just feeding a friend because she never says no to free food, but now she wants to know what he’s really after.

“So why the sudden generosity? Going to try and get me to join your superhero play group?”

“No. You’ve made it clear how you feel on that.” He shifts in his seat and folds his hands in front of him, leaning in closer so that they’re not overheard. “But I do need someone to help me find them.”

“And this is not me joining the team … how, exactly?”

“You know more about metahumans and gifted people than I do. You know what the signs are, and you’re better at reading people than you give yourself credit for, and you’re a damn good PI. I can’t just send any investigator to do this job.”

Jessica’s quiet for a moment, as she studies his face to see what he’s getting at. “You want to know that if someone picks a fight, they’ll be able to fight back.”

He nods once. “I’d do it myself, but I have other obligations I need to attend to. Keep up appearances. You don’t even have to make the pitch, just locate them and send me the information. I’ll take care of the rest.” There’s another pause as he reaches into his suit jacket before pulling out a card with a number written on it. “That’s your fee. And you’ll have access to Wayne Enterprise resources and vehicles – whatever you need.”

The number on the card has more zeroes than Jessica has ever seen in her life. If it were anyone else, asking her to sell out her own kind, she would have been inclined to tell them to shove it up their ass, but she also knows that Bruce isn’t doing this because he wants to toss them in a lab and perform experiments on them. He’s doing this because he wants to save the world.

It’s idealistic, altruistic bullshit, but hey. Maybe there are gifted people out there who are dumb enough to actually want to help.

“I’ll do it.” She pauses just long enough so he can hear the “but” coming, taking a long sip of her coffee. “On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“You have to do an episode of Trish Talki.”

The look on his face was so uncomfortable, Jessica almost takes a picture of it for posterity – almost. “You want me to do daytime talk radio?”

She has to give him some credit – at least he knows what Trish Talk is. (Probably because he was investigating her.) “Trish has been on my ass ever since I started spending time with you. She knows that I have the persuasion technique of a raging bull, but she also knows that if I ever had you over a barrel I wouldn’t hesitate to use it as leverage.” She holds up the end of the card and flicks it for effect. “Bruce, meet barrel.”

He snorts a half-laugh, because all of the above is true, and also because he probably knows that one episode of talk radio isn’t going to kill him. Or, at least, it probably won’t. He nods in agreement before holding his hand across the table to her. “Deal.”

Jessica grins before reaching out to shake his hand. “You just made America’s Sweetheart very happy.”

“I’m sure,” he sighs as the food is placed in front of them. Jessica tucks her card away in her jacket before looking up at him again.

“You are still paying for breakfast, right?”

He laughs as he reaches for the silverware, before nodding his agreement. “Don’t worry. I’ve got it covered.”

Edited 2016-08-16 18:54 (UTC)

Freya hates starlings.

It’s nothing against the birds themselves, but they always manage to remind her of her mother, a woman who managed to fail her family more times than Freya can count. Perhaps she’s looking at it through the eyes of a daughter scorned, but what should probably be a comforting sound no longer is such, and instead a sign of danger and an oncoming storm, disguised in the sound of birds.

It’s why when the spell holding the Mikaelsons in their mutual purgatory is threatened, the chirp-chirp-chirp of the alarm is that of starlings, and Freya immediately leaves the farmhouse for the edges of their mutual dream world to investigate. Most times she’s on her own, as magic is a skill she alone possesses. Occasionally Kol might come by to provide magical commentary, but their relationship is still not as repaired as she would like nor expect. But this particular morning, as she settles in the grass with her sage and other ingredients, it’s Rebekah that finds her, arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Is something wrong?”

Freya shakes her head as she folds her knees under her to get started. “No, not necessarily. Some of the protections fade over time, and I need to renew them.”

“I thought the sleeping spell couldn’t be broken by outside forces.”

“It can’t. So long as we are tethered to Klaus’ life force, we should be safe.” Should being the operative word. “However, this world that I have created for us is much more fragile. If someone were to break it, while it wouldn’t wake us and begin the process of our dying all over again, I wouldn’t be able to recreate it in my current state.”

“I see,” Rebekah nods as she sits next to her, folding her legs under her as well. “The longer this stays undetected, the longer we get to stay together.”

Freya nods again. “I do not want to risk what Finn experienced in his long sleep happening to us if we are to remain here for longer than we’d hoped. We’ll probably be safer if we stay together. I just wish that I could have gotten Klaus in here with us.”

“He understood the role he needed to play – the sacrifice he needed to make.” A small smile crosses her face for a moment. “I know we’re all in coffins again, but this time it doesn’t feel like he’s sacrificing us for his own safety, for once. It’s strange, to see something this selfless from him.”

“I will have to take your word for it.” While Freya has seen her fair share of Klaus’ selfishness in action, as well as small selfless acts, this is likely the first time he’s done so without completely burning everything to the ground in his wake. “But still – he doesn’t deserve the kind of suffering that Marcel has imposed on him. If anything, I feel like it should have been me. I was the one who cost him Davina.”

“We have all made our mistakes. I suppose it was about time a thousand years of karma caught up with us.” She reaches over and holds out her hand to Freya. “Is there anything I can do to help? Make the edges of the spell a bit stronger?”

Freya glances over to her with a small smile, before taking her hand gently. “If you don’t mind my channeling you?”

“Not at all.” She smiles in return. “What are incredibly powerful sisters for, after all?”

Freya smiles in return, before closing her eyes and beginning the chant. It will keep them all safe for a little while longer, that much is certain. Hopefully, they won’t be needing it for much longer.

cause you could play the life of the party ~ teen wolf/the vampire diaries ~ 646 words

impetere - 2017-01-16 17:49 (UTC) - Expand

Floor - Elena/Max Guevara
Love - Chloe/Jo Harvelle
Peace - Penny/Val
Happy - Lana/Laurel or some other crossover Laurel pairing I don't care

please give me all the happy gay things

“I’m regretting agreeing to this.”

Val is hugging her pillow to her chest with an overnight bag in on hand when Penny looks up from the tune ups she’s doing on the van, uncertainty written all over her features. Penny straightens in return, eyeing her girlfriend for a moment before asking, very carefully:

“The trip, or the means of getting there?”

“The means, mostly. I definitely want the trip.” That much is true. She then sighs, slightly exasperated. “Why won’t you just let me orb us there?”

“First of all, it’s not all about the destination – part of it is how you get there.” She then turns back to the van to continue the tweaking she’s doing. “Second of all, while Vegas may be a big walking town, it’s still going to look a little weird if we show up without any means of transportation whatsoever.”

“You think spending hours watching miles and miles of desert go by is an important part of the trip?” Val still seems skeptical and Penny sighs, before placing her wrench to the side and making her way closer to her.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then take a deep breath, and trust me. I’m sure I will absolutely make it worth your while.”

Val takes another exasperated breath, looking over the site of the van for a moment, before looking back to Penny again. “Are you sure the van is going to make it?”

Penny rolls her eyes and pushes Val forward. “Get in the damn car.”

* * * * *

The thing about road trips is that Penny has spent most of her adult life living out of the back of her van. It’s nothing to do with a lack of means – in fact, she and her brother have a great deal of means – she just likes the freedom it gives her, not to be bound to a particular place at any given time. It wasn’t until Val came into her life that she started to value the importance of walls and an apartment.

Just because she started valuing that doesn’t mean she hasn’t missed the road and the freedom it provides. And as soon as they hit the highway on the way from San Francisco to Vegas and the buildings and signs of civilization fell away, it is almost like coming home again. Val, on the other hand, passes out almost as soon as they’re going a consistent speed and doesn’t wake until Penny pulls over for lunch.

“Wake up. I want to show you something.”

There’s a bit of a grumble as her girlfriend rouses, rubbing her eyes and glancing out the window. “Where are we?”

“Middle of nowhere,” Penny replies casually as she reaches back behind them to where the cooler with the food is. “Look.”

Val glances from her to the front window of the car and as she does, her eyes widen some in surprise. “Whoa.”

Rising up ahead of them are a series of red tinted mountains set against a clear blue sky. The rock formations are banded with various shades of red, showing the wear of the world and the majesty of it, all at the same time. Sure, there were tumbleweeds and signs of decay all around them, but there’s still plenty of beauty to go around as well.

“See what I mean?” she says with a smile as she hands her a sandwich. “There’s plenty to see out here.”

Val nods as she takes the food from her, before leaning back in her seat to study it all some more. “I guess there are still things of this world I have yet to appreciate.”

“You’re welcome.”

Val rolls her eyes, before taking a bite of her sandwich. “I still think we should have orbed there.”

“Oh, come on.”

“There’s still no promises that this thing isn’t going to break down on the way there.”

“You wanna bet?”

The terms are too personal to mention here, but safe to say Penny did win – the van didn’t break down on the way to Vegas.

It does, however, break down on the way home, but that’s a story for another time.

but my love is bigger than a honda ~ dark angel/the vampire diaries ~ 696 words

whatialways_do - 2016-10-02 17:25 (UTC) - Expand

suddenly seeing a different city ~ dctv/smallville ~ 709 words

prosecutorial - 2017-01-17 18:10 (UTC) - Expand

i see myself reflected in your eyes ~ smallville/supernatural ~ 514 words

iluvroadrunner6 - 2018-01-01 03:03 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

energybar - 2018-01-01 04:54 (UTC) - Expand

Confused - Snowbarry
Afraid - Caitlin/Jay (shhh I'm trashy)

Caitlin remembers this kind give and take built in fear.

Her mother rules her home life with an iron fist built of cruel words. While she would never physically strike Caitlin for any reason, her words do the job well enough. Caitlin copes by exceeding expectations, making sure her appearance was always perfect, her speech impeccable, soft spoken and non-confrontational – it becomes a situation she knows all too well how to survive.

If Caitlin’s cold, she learns it from her mother, and she knows it. She breaks away after she gets the job at STAR Labs, meets Ronnie, builds a life that wasn’t about constantly raising the bar and exceeding what was expected of her. She had thought, before Jay (Hunter, it’s Hunter now), before Zoom, that she didn’t have to cow to anyone’s expectations anymore. Unfortunately, however, the moment she sets foot in Zoom’s prison, the same coping mechanisms come into play again.

It’s a very delicate balance, this dance between the two of them. Caitlin refuses to cower, to be fearful, to make him think he’s any more superior to her than he already is, but she also doesn’t confront him, not in the way she should. Cisco would mouth off to him, up until the point it gets him in trouble. Barry would try to reason with him or fight him – she isn’t entirely sure which, though … Barry doesn’t really have his speed anymore, does he?

“You should eat.” His voice is demanding, insistent, and she eats because she has to, in order to survive, and she doesn’t want to make him angry.

“You can’t keep me here forever,” she reminds him, and he doesn’t seem all that convinced. Even if what she says is the truth, he’s too deluded by his own power to see otherwise.

Zoom thinks that she will come to love him, and she lets him believe it. Zoom thinks that with time, her feelings will return, and she lets him believe that too. What he doesn’t know is that her feelings for him, for Jay, never really went away. She knows enough about emotions to know that they don’t go away that easily, but instead of making her feel warm and hopeful, they’ve twisted in on themselves like daggers jabbing at her insides. It isn’t just attraction anymore, now there also comes shame and guilt for not seeing what she was supposed to see in the first place.

“You’ll love me again,” he says as he forces the tray of food at her, expecting her to eat and implying all of the consequences that come if she doesn’t do as he says. “You’ll see that I’m still the same. What we had was real.”

It isn’t that she disbelieves him. She knows that this is real – it wouldn’t hurt this much if it wasn’t – but she needs to believe that she is stronger than he believes her to be. She needs to hope that she’ll find a way to get out of this.

She can’t be afraid anymore. Or maybe she simply needs to be brave. The one thing she does know, however, is that the status quo isn’t going to work for her this time around.

This time, she has to do more than just dodge the blows – she has to fight them.

(no subject)

trigeminalheadache - 2016-05-20 23:16 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

iluvroadrunner6 - 2016-05-27 20:30 (UTC) - Expand

i'm hooked and i can't stop starin' | the flash | 624 words

supertardiness - 2016-08-05 21:55 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

trigeminalheadache - 2016-08-05 22:21 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

supertardiness - 2016-08-07 21:04 (UTC) - Expand

Cassie and Cassie - Tired.
Teleios!Scarlett and Paz - Fire.

Castiel has never been so tired.

He had always known that his disconnect from Heaven would catch up to him eventually, but at the same time part of him always hoped that he would find his way back into a world with a Heaven of some kind, something that would recharge him and make him into more of the angel he was than the man he is starting to become. While in some worlds he can feel it, the warmth and promise of family and power, he never stays long enough to really recharge and be made whole.

And today? Today the rift has sent him flying again, but this time he’s stumbled into an alley filled with the acrid smell of death, that makes the human stomach that’s now become his more than Jimmy Novak’s in recent years. He gags, an involuntary reflex he’s not fond of, before stumbling forward in search of fresh air. He glances behind himself, more out of habit than anything else, for the familiar blond face that’s usually behind him. It’s shortly after that that he remembers that he lost Cassie several worlds ago, Jo as well. He hates the feeling of being alone, more than he hates the feeling of being human, but he manages as best he can. Angels aren’t supposed to need other people after all.

There’s a flare of white light and he closes his eyes, turning his head from the brightness of it and raising a hand in response.

“Stop! Don’t move! NYPD.”

He sighs, before straightening slightly. “Is there a problem, Officer?”

“I’d say a pretty big one, given all those dead bodies you’re standing around.”

Castiel blinks once in confusion, turning back to the darkness of the alleyway, and seeing the strewn and broken bodies behind him. He should have realized there was a reason he was gagging on the stench of death, but he hadn’t thought to look around, too disoriented by the trip through the Rift.

“Oh.”

“There’s a pile of bodies there and the best you can say is ‘oh’?” The officer seems irritated, and Castiel knows by now that his speaking will only make things worse – his skills at unnerving people into letting him go are not as strong as they used to be, and he doesn’t want to think that he is a threat. “Turn around, put your hands on your head.”

Castiel does as he’s told, before sighing heavily. “Any chance you’ll have somewhere for me to sleep while I wait?”

“Is that your way of saying you don’t have an alibi?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

* * * * *

He does manage to fall asleep in one of the holding cells as they print him and try to identify him, which is easier said than done. Never mind the fact that he doesn’t exist in this universe – and neither does Jimmy Novak – Castiel has never seen the point of identification in the first place when he could identify himself just fine, so he has no means of proving he is who he says he is. They do, at least, manage to prove that he had nothing to do with the dead bodies they found him on, and are willing to at least let him sleep it off in the cell until they figure out what to do with him.

When he finally rouses, his trench coat spread over his chest, it’s to the smell of fresh coffee and a familiar perfume that he hasn’t caught the scent of in a long time, and it washes over him like a breath of fresh air.

“There you are,” a familiar British accent says, the smile evident in her tone, even if he hadn’t been looking at her. “I was wondering when you’d come back to the land of the living again.”

“Even though I wasn’t dead,” he asks, though he clearly knows what the expression is by the smirk on his face.

“I would hope not. I would hate to finally see you after so long only to find out you weren’t among the living.” She takes a step back so that the officer can come in and unlock the cell, then continues to explain. “I vouched for you. Said you’ve been having some sleepwalking trouble and left your identification at home. They’re letting you go with a warning.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“I keep an eye out when I land in new places, just in case.”

The barred wall rolls back, giving Castiel plenty of space to leave. He slides his coat back on over his shoulders, before making his way over and pulling her in to a tight hug. Maybe it’s not the best way to have seen each other after so long apart, but at least they’ve managed to find each other again.

“Nice to see you, Cassie.”

“Nice to see you too, Cas.” She pulls back with a wide smile, and he can’t help but return it in kind. “Welcome to New York.”

Edited 2016-09-24 19:29 (UTC)

you start them just to feel the heat ~ teleios ~ 599 words

laywastetothee - 2016-10-08 19:42 (UTC) - Expand

079. Winter - David & Zara

“You know, if you got any closer to the fireplace, you’d be in the fireplace.”

It’s the first amused thought that crosses David’s mind when he walks into one of the TV rooms, and sees Zara curled up on a cushion next to the roaring fire, looking very put out by the chill that may exist anywhere else. He doesn’t blame her – this particular winter seems to be wanting to out chill the one that came before it in a big way – but it does seem like a bit of a dramatic response to what is natural winter weather.

The look she gives him in response, however, may be even colder than the wind outside. “I grew up in a desert. The fact that it’s as cold as it is, is clearly an example of the gods trying to punish us somehow.”

David laughs, making his way over so that he’s sitting across from her, a warm cup of coffee cupped in his hands. He’s not going to pretend he wasn’t just out in the cold, doing his regular morning run around the grounds – his tolerance for the cold can be quite a bit higher. “It’s not that bad.”

“Yes, you regularly tempt them into letting you freeze to death. You would say that.”

“I also spent a lot of time around Vikings, in colder climates. They even had a god for the winter.”

Her eyebrow raises. “They worshipped the one who brought the cold.”

“They worshipped a lot of things they probably shouldn’t of. But unlike here, where there seem to be followers for every god because of the things they value, in the world I came from, a lot of the respect paid to those gods was out of healthy fear. That’s why pretty much every civilization you come across has a god of death – they were trying to make sense out of the world.”

“And you think a god of winter came out of respect for the cold?”

“The Vikings originated in the frigid North. It was a large part of their life.” He pauses to take a sip of his coffee. “They had two, actually. One was called Skadi, who favored bowhunting, skiing and the mountains, while Hodr was more part of the cold and darkness.”

“Were they kind gods?” A pertinent question, given the discussions they’ve had about the gods of this world in the past.

“Skadi was a jotunn – a giantess. She was one of Odin’s wives and I’ve never met her. There’s a lot of beautiful art of her, but only real mention of her in the myths was that she was the one who devised a … really terrible punishment for someone who honestly deserved it, at least in my opinion. But I’ve met him, so I’m biased.”

Twice actually, but he’s referring more to the first. He hasn’t spent as much time with the second Loki, which is probably for the best.

“And Hodr?”

“Hodr was the blind brother of Baldr, who was considered to be the most favored of the gods. When he was young, there was a prophecy that he would kill his brother. In order to prevent this, their mother, Frigga, asked all creatures to swear an oath never to harm Baldr. Unfortunately, she missed the mistletoe bush. Loki, realizing this, fashioned an arrow from the bush and gave it to Hodr while they were testing his brother’s newfound invulnerability. The arrow killed him instantly. With Baldr’s death, darkness stretched out across the world, leading to the longer nights of winter.”

Zara’s face softens, because it’s certainly not the kindest story. “Surely this Loki was punished.”

“Oh yeah. Brutally.” His children murdered, chained to a rock with his son’s innards and having a serpent dripped into his eyes. Vikings didn’t mess around, not when it came to vengeance. “But so was Hodr. Even though Loki was the one who made the weapon, his hand was still the one that committed the deed, so his life was forfeit as a result.”

“I see.” Her eyes turn to the fire, watching the flames dance as she forms her next question. “Are all cultures this … brutal when it comes to their tales for winter?”

“Not all of them. Some of them are love stories. In Greek lore, Hades fell in love with Persephone, the goddess of spring and daughter of Demeter, and as a result, he kidnapped her, and brought her down to the Underworld to be with him.”

Zara squints at him. “I’m questioning your understanding of the term ‘love story.’”

He holds up a hand as he shifts. “It’s Greek so there’s usually minimal agency involved at first, but let me finish. So Demeter went to Zeus, the king of the gods and her brother, to try and force Hades to return her daughter to her. Zeus did as he was asked, and Hades said fine, so long as she hasn’t eaten any of the fruit of the Underworld, she can return to the world above. It turns out that Persephone had eaten six pomegranate seeds, so Zeus negotiated again that for six months of the year, Persephone must return to Hades, but for the remaining six, she can live in the world above with her mother. That’s why every year, the world cycles into decay as Demeter mourns the loss of her daughter, before coming back to life again for spring and summer.”

Zara stares, considering the words. “I still do not seeing the love story.”

He shrugs. “There are a lot of different schools of thought on it. Most people try and paint it as Hades being the bad guy, but at the same time, everyone knew the rules when it came to the fruit of the Underworld, even before she was kidnapped. There are some who say that Persephone knew what she was doing, and she chose Hades anyway.”

“Mmm.” Silence surrounds them as her eyes wander into the fire, caught up in the consideration of something. She then turns back to him, curious as she watches him. “Would you? Willingly choose a world void of life for someone?”

“I don’t know.” The words are honest, to a point. He had chosen Everworld for love once – not because he loved it, but more that his love had caused it such harm. At the same time, would he be able to trust himself that the love he was choosing was the right one, after he had been wrong in such a large way before.

Part of him thinks that there’s no wrong way to love someone, as long as the love is real, not obsession or coercion or entitlement. Hades couldn’t leave the Underworld, not for long periods of time, anyway, so why not give that compromise. If Persephone truly did love him, did see something in him that she connected with in that way, then it would seem like an easy decision to make. He already knows that he’s loyal enough to follow love wherever it would lead him. Then again, he doesn’t really have much buoying him to any particular place at any given time. The world doesn’t really shine brighter because he’s in it.

“Then again, I’m probably the Hades in that given scenario.”

“Kidnapping beautiful women because you’re obsessed with them?” Zara seems surprised by his assessment, and he shakes his head. No, that kind of choice he wouldn’t force on anyone. Not after the way it was forced on him.

“Wanting something beautiful in a place where it’s not really meant to be.” Even if he may not seem like it, that’s sometimes how it feels. Like he’s become mired in something cold and dark, and pulling himself out of it is not always the easiest thing. “Being tired of the dead and wanting life injected into it. Persephone was beautiful, sure, but she was also the goddess of spring. I don’t think he was just wanting something beautiful for the sake of beauty, I think he also wanted the rebirth.”

“Because in a way, loving her renewed him as well?”

“Maybe.” There’s a moment of discomfort, as this is mostly just speculation, born of long discussions with Vi complaining about gods that he hoped to never see again, but he can understand it a lot more than Hades being like his brothers, forcing things that weren’t their own. “I don’t know. There are stories upon stories about Zeus and Poseidon disregarding the choices of both mortal women and goddesses, and occasionally gods because they were after their own wants and needs. But the only one where Hades has anything like this is Persephone.”

There’s another thoughtful noise of consideration as she glances back to the fire again. “I’ll have to do some research. I still don’t know enough about the gods of this world as I should.”

He nods as well, willing to let her assess for herself. One of the things he likes about Zara is the way she chooses to interrogate her faith, regardless of still having it. While David’s opinions of the gods are built on more practical interactions, belief is something that you have to try and analyze on your own.

“You’ll have to let me know what you think, then.”

“I will.” Her hand reaches out, tugging on his arm and guiding him closer as they stay close to the fireplace. “But for right now, I would much rather use you for warmth.”

He smirks in return, before shifting so that she can lean against him easily. “I think I can manage that.”

073. Return - Sara & E2!Laurel

They bury Quentin, and Sara leaves. Laurel doesn’t expect her to stay, so she doesn’t think much of it, curious as she may be. She goes back to a life that isn’t hers and tries to be the district attorney that Quentin wanted her to be all along.

And then Sara comes back.

She strides into Laurel’s office like she owns the place, all swagger and confidence, and she places her hands down on the chair in front of her desk, and speaks, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world: “I need your help.”

Laurel stares at the paperwork in her hand, before glancing up and looking at her in confusion. Sara is asking her for help. No one asks Laurel for help. “Me?”

“We’re trying to track down this fugitive who has issues with soundwaves. Since your metapower is sound related, I thought you might be able to help contain them.”

Laurel is still confused. She knows the general why, but she doesn’t know why. “And you’re asking me?”

“Do you think there’s another sound-controlling metahuman I should be talking to?”

“What about Dinah?”

“Dinah isn’t my sister.”

“I’m not your sister either.”

Sara’s quiet for a moment, and Laurel isn’t sure if it’s because she doesn’t understand why she’s being questioned so much or if she had expected Laurel to jump at the opportunity to go scream at something. Being Laurel, she assumes that it’s likely the latter, but she doesn’t push, waiting for Sara to answer rather than jumping the gun. Laurel swallows hard, expecting another story about the Saint Laurel of Earth-1, and it had been one thing when Quentin was trying to convince her to make better choices and to take on the first Laurel’s life, but she doesn’t know what Sara is after by convincing her to join the Legends.

“No, but my sister is the one who convinced me that I could do good with what I’ve been given.” Sara gives a small shrug in return. “Regardless of what I’ve done in the past, she told me that I can still be a hero by becoming a Legend. Guess, I think this is my way of repaying the favor. If you want it.” Silence sits between them for a moment, before Sara tips her head to the side. “Plus I know what a buzz kill it is for trying to redeem yourself around here. Oliver’s pretty much convinced that this is a one man show.”

There’s a snort from the older woman across from her, because damn if Sara isn’t wrong there, but Laurel is unsure about everything else involved. “What about the rest of the Legends? Will they be as welcoming?”

“The Legends were kind of built on second chances,” Sara shrugs. “Originally we were just a bunch of misfits who history was going to forget, and we decided to change our fate.”

“Yeah, but one about the ones who knew this world’s Laurel.”

“The only one who did was Ray,” Sara replies. “And he’s pretty big on looking at the best in people, so I don’t think he’ll hold it against you.”

She looks around her office, before turning back to Sara. “Just the one job. Time machine, you’ll have me in and out before anyone knows I’m gone?”

Sara grins before nodding. “Promise. We’ve gotten way better at the whole landing when we’re supposed to thing.”

Laurel pushes up from her desk and eyes Sara again. “That’s not that comforting.”

Her not-sister laughs, before turning on her heel and heading out the door. “See, you’re sounding more and more like Laurel already.”

- - - - - -

Counteracting a literal harpy with her own scream is way more intricate and complicated than you would think, but in the end she succeeds, knocking the overgrown birds out of the sky and allowing them to be easily shipped off to the Time Bureau at the end of the day. And Laurel has to admit it was … nice. Nice to not feel like her every movement and choice was being judged, nice to know that she didn’t have to be one hundred percent perfect and know that she could wing it on occasion.

Honestly, it’s nice to know that everyone on this ship is as big a screw up as she is. The Legends may be the redheaded stepchildren of Oliver’s little hero group, but they have a way of making everyone feel equal that Star City just doesn’t have. Part of her wishes that she could stay, and spend more time figuring herself out and how exactly she wants to be hero, but at the end of the day, she knows that that isn’t going to work with Oliver and Felicity.

She has a long road ahead of her to prove that she’s worthy of her trust. Running around on the Waverider isn’t going to do her any favors.

Sara makes her way in to the galley, and pulls two beers out of the fridge, before pausing and looking up at Laurel. “Are you …?”

Laurel shakes her head, extending one hand out for a beer. “God, it’s been so long since I’ve had a damn drink. Do you know how hard it is to pretend to be an alcoholic all the time?”

Sara laughs, before handing it back to her. “Well, I promise I won’t tell.” She clinks her beer bottle against the top of Laurel’s before moving to sit across from her. “You know, you can stick around for a while if you want. Time travel, and all of that.”

Laurel takes a sip of her beer, glancing around the galley. It’s so tempting, to just disappear from the self-imposed responsibilities and lose herself in something that’s more her speed, but she knows that that’s not what Quentin saw in her. The first Laurel didn’t quit. This Laurel isn’t going to either.

“Not this time,” Laurel sighs, before giving her a smile. “But if you ever need me to scream at something again, you know where to find me.”

Sara grins as well. “I’ll keep you on speed dial.” She goes quiet as she takes a sip of her own beer, before placing it down on the table. “Or maybe … just to talk?”

Laurel looks back at her again, surprised that Sara would want her around in any other capacity, but swallows before nodding. “Yeah. Or that too.”

“Good,” Sara nods, before getting to her feet again. “This beer needs some pizza. I’ll have Gideon make us a couple before I take you back?”

Laurel smiles and hopes that this relaxed feeling will last when she returns to Star City and resumes her real life again. “Maybe have a couple more beers too?”

Sara smirks, before nodding in agreement. “Sounds good to me.”

009. Cheat - Nealbekah

When Rebekah returns from New Orleans, she is need of distraction more than anything else.

He remembers when he left his mother in witness protection, consciously aware that he’d never be able to see her again. He hadn’t felt it at the time, angry over being lied to for so many years of his life, but oddly enough when he was in prison, he began to feel the regret of it all, of leaving behind the person who was just trying to protect him. Rebekah’s situation is worse, as it’s a choice that’s not really a choice at all – it was either her ability to see her siblings or Hope, and Neal knows that no one in that family, even himself, would choose anyone else over Hope. It doesn’t make it sting less, however, so when Rebekah needs a distraction, he gets together with Mozzie and does what he and Mozzie do best.

They plan a heist.

Which is how the trio of them wind up in Monaco, rolling through the casinos and managing to snag a few art pieces on the way. Eventually one thing leads to another, and Neal winds up being challenged to a poker match in order to keep their prize. It isn’t part of the plan, at least it isn’t part of their original plan, but the three of them are nothing if not reactive, and Neal is ready to play. Or, at least, that’s what he leads their mark to believe.

“Do you think you can see his hand in the mirror if you sit at the bar?”

Leopold is already seated at the poker table as Neal helps Rebekah with her coat at the entryway, voice a low whisper so that they can’t be overheard. Rebekah’s eyes dart to the barstool for a moment, before giving a small shrug. “I can certainly try. What did you have in mind?”

“I can hear you if you whisper.” He takes the ticket from the coat check girl, tucking it in his pocket as he adjusts his suit. “Just let me know what his hand is.”

“You are aware that’s cheating.” She takes his arm as they make their way in. “If you’re going to rig the game, why don’t you compel him?”

“Because there’s no fun in compelling someone in a situation like this. Especially since you can’t compel a card deck.” He smirks as they make their way closer. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fun.”

She raises an eyebrow at that, but kisses him on the cheek as she makes her way over to the bar. “I’m going to order a drink.”

Leopold’s eyes glance over the blond as she leaves and raises an eyebrow. “I thought this was a one on one game.”

“It is,” Neal settles at the table across from him, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he does. “But she does intend to have me back in one piece. I think she figured you wouldn’t shoot me in front of a lady.”

“Probably right, if I were a shooting man to begin with.” He shifts as he settles in his seat before gesturing for the dealer to take their position at the head of the table. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

“Let’s,” Neal agrees with a nod, and with that, the game begins.

* * * * *

Neal’s played better games of poker. His tells are all over the place, he calls where he should have folded, and it doesn’t take many rounds before Leopold happily regains his property and heads back to his room at the casino. Neal makes his way over to pay Rebekah’s tab at the bar, and her brow furrows for a moment, clearly confused.

“I gave you every hand. Why did you lose?”

“Because I wasn’t cheating to win. I was cheating to lose.”

That only seems to confuse her more, and she gets to her feet and takes his arm again to make their way out. “Why on Earth would you cheat to lose?”

“Because if he thinks he got his property back, he’s less likely to be a sore loser and call the cops.”

There’s another pause as she processes that, still confused because Neal did return a painting to him, but a second later, her eyes light up with understand. “You gave him one of the forgeries.”

“Yep,” Neal nods. “And we should probably get Mozzie and get the hell out of Monaco before he figures it out.”

Rebekah laughs in response, letting him gather their coats and make their way out of the restaurant before she leans in and kisses his cheek gently. “Thank you, Neal. This was just the distraction I needed.”

He smiles in return, before turning back to her with a nod. “Anytime. I’m just glad I could help.”

Rebekah nods again, leaning into his shoulder for a moment, before looking up to the night sky. “Do you think we could send Mozzie back to New York with the paintings and just travel for a while? I’m feeling a bit of wanderlust.”

Neal nods as a cab pulls up, before opening the door for her with a flourish. “Your wish is my command.”

013. Borrow - Freya & Katherine

Rain starts to drizzle over Freya’s head as she waits just outside the hotel where Katherine’s staying. She could feel the clock count down on this year of life, and she’s going to sleep soon. She needs to make sure her body will be placed in the hands of someone she can trust, and if there’s one thing she can trust about Katherine, it’s that she will always know where her siblings are, because it would be the last place that Katherine would like to be. That being said, she needs to convince Katherine to actually do it, to care for something beyond herself for a hundred years, and while 1510 is fairly early on in her immortality, she’s fairly certain that Katherine will be able to see the boon of having a witch in her corner.

All she has to do is wait.

Katherine saunters down the stairs at the front of the inn, and smiles when she sees Freya, as they’ve managed to become quite the friends at this point. “Freya. I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”

“I know. But I was hoping I could borrow something.”

“Anything.” Katherine offers it up without a word but a very thin film of sincerity. There’s very much the question of what’s in it for her.

“I was hoping to borrow you.”

Katherine’s eyebrows raise quietly, before turning to face Freya more. “Any chance you could be more specific?”

“I’m about to go to sleep for a hundred years. I was hoping you might be able to take me with you on your travels, so I know I’m safe in the care of a friend.”

It’s a reasonable suggestion, for a woman who can’t guarantee how safe it’s going to be for her, but Katherine is hesitant, because a century is a long time, even for a vampire. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, Freya, because I do consider you a friend, but we’ve known each other less than a year. What makes you think you can trust me?”

“I don’t find myself with many … options,” Freya says with a small smile. “And I think I might be able to … incentivize you to in my favor, given my considerable magic.”

Katherine weighs her options for a moment, before leaning towards her curiously. “When I was staying with the Mikaelson vampires they managed to fool me into thinking they were human by being able to pass in the sunlight. Can you do that for me?”

Freya pauses, weighing her options for a moment. The simple answer is that yes, she very well could, but not in the time she has. She doesn’t know the spell well, and it would take time to acquire the ingredients. “Yes, but not in the time I have.” Another pause, as she leans closer. “If you follow through on this, I will make it for you as soon as I wake.”

Katherine weighs her options again, because a century is a long time to wait in the darkness, but then again, that is the choice she resigned herself to the moment she decided the better option was to become a vampire. Freya knows it’s a risk, that she may find another witch to help her somewhere along the way and abandon Freya entirely, but Freya also knew that there were very few witches who were willing to meddle with her mother’s magic.

“Deal,” Katherine says with a nod, before extending one hand out to her. “I’ll keep you safe.”

Freya reaches forward and shakes her hand gratefully, giving it a small squeeze. “Thank you. I appreciate this more than you know.”

“Of course,” she says with a small smile, before locking her arm in Freya’s. “How long do you have before you sleep?”

Freya looks up at the moon and sighs softly. “A few hours.”

“That’s not a lot of time at all.” Katherine shakes her head and continues to lead them forward. “But just enough for us to get into a bit of trouble before you do.”

Freya laughs, and eagerly lets Katherine lead. “Then, after you.”

* * * * * *

In 1611, Freya orients herself in the fashions of the ladies of the period, while Katherine suns herself on a balcony in Paris, soaking the first rays of sunshine that she’s felt in over a century. Her eyes are closed, long dark curls tumbling over the edge of the railing as she just soaks it up like a cat. She’s not even fully dressed, so there is more skin for the sun to reach, and Freya laughs, before shaking her head.

“If you don’t come inside, you’re going to give the men of the city quite a show.”

“Let them watch then,” Katherine grins, giving Freya a saucy wink. “I am enjoying the morning sun, and they should do the same.” She holds out one hand to Freya and pulls her closer, allowing her to step into the sun herself. “And so should you, after so many years in a coffin.”

A deep breath of fresh air greets her as she steps out onto the balcony, staring at the people below them as she wraps her robe around herself a bit tightly. “It does feel good to be awake again. Even if there’s so much that I’ve missed.”

“I will catch you up, don’t worry.” Katherine turns Freya’s attention back to her again, long fingers threading into her blond hair to pull her closer. “And I have so much catching up to do with you as well.”

Freya leans in to her touch, lingering for just a moment as it’s been so long since she’s had contact with anything, and one hand moves to Katherine’s waist as a smile crosses her face. “I think we should take this catch up session inside. I’m sure you have a lot to show me.”

“Oh, I do,” Katherine grins as she tugs her inside towards the bed. “The year is still young, after all.”

* * * * * *

In 1712, they find themselves in a somber little villa off the coast of Italy, and a more somber Katherine. Apparently there had been some close calls with her brother over the last century, and Katherine has taken to much more paranoid looks over her shoulder. Freya also knows that Katherine’s faithfulness isn’t something to be expected over time – waiting for your lover a century at a time is certainly not ideal, but she is grateful that no matter what her situation, Freya’s years awake are theirs, always. Even if Freya is always looking for Klaus, Elijah and Rebekah, she is just as engaged with Katherine, wanting to make sure her long waits aren’t for nothing.

They’re in bed, having spent the evening in the company of a local duke that Katherine had compelled into treating them well. Not that Freya cares for fancy things, but she knows Katherine does, and it is nice to have food that wasn’t prepared in some kind of tavern.

“I’m thinking of going to America.”

The sentence hangs between them for a moment, and Freya weighs how to play her options. She knows that America means fleeing, means putting more distance between herself and her siblings, but at the same time, she knows from what she’s heard that America is the future. Her siblings will find their way there eventually. Until then, she is willing to follow where Katherine leads her, for better or for worse.

“I’ve heard good things.” Freya smiles softly as she tucks an arm around her waist to pull her closer, brushing a kiss to Katherine’s shoulder. “I’ll go wherever you take me.”

Katherine smiles softly at that, before turning to face her more. “Are you sure? Europe is your home.”

“And I’ve always wanted to see the world,” Freya supplies before Katherine can question it further. “I trust you, Katherine. Wherever you think it’s best to go is best.”

Katherine’s smile widens, before leaning in to kiss her softly, her thumb brushing gently against Freya’s cheekbone in a soothing motion. “It will be good for us, I think, you’ll see.”

Freya isn’t sure how anything can be too good for them, given that in a year’s time, Freya is still going to sleep again, but maybe one day she’ll be free of that. Maybe one day, Dahlia will be dead, and she and Katherine will have all the time in the world.

Or maybe Freya will simply be free to make her own choices and Katherine will be free as well.

Either way, it’s an adventure worth pursuing, and Freya learned a long time ago to bask in the moments she has. Until told otherwise, that’s what she will continue to do.

* * * * * *

1813 is their last year together. Katherine drags Freya out west to see the settlements there and most of their time is lost in travel, but it’s good to have one last adventure together before their time is done. Freya wakes up in 1914 to a note with an apology and a promise that she would try to find her again, but all Freya can find is that her past managed to catch up with her, and that Katherine Pierce died in a fire in 1865. Freya hardly believes that this is truly the case, but she’s in New Orleans, her siblings are finally right there, and she decides to take advantage of the opportunity she has.

She and Katherine will find each other again, somehow, someway.

When she wakes up in 2014, Katherine Pierce is truly dead, and Freya doesn’t have the time to truly mourn. Her brother had a child, Dahlia is here, and it’s time for her plan to finally come to fruition. There will be time to grieve when the work is done.

Until then, she has work to do.

063. Whisper - Neal/Elena

Edited 2018-02-09 14:47 (UTC)

“Elena, if you can hear me, tap your glass once.”

His words are barely more than a whisper, but he also knows that that isn’t much of a challenge to vampire hearing. He also knows that odds are high that Elena isn’t expecting him – he certainly wasn’t expecting her – but that’s the fun of green rifts, presumably. You can’t really have expectations, so you just cross your fingers and hope for the best. In the case of this particular green rift took the two of them to a casino, and there’s a job to be done. The fact that he would have a partner was indicated in the information left behind, but he hadn’t been sure of who it would be until now.

Elena’s eyes widen slightly for a moment before she turns to face the direction of his voice, until her eyes met his across the room. Neal doesn’t have super hearing, but he is able to see the amused look on her face as she taps the glass once. He smirks back in return, before starting to circle his way around to where she is.

“Tap your glass once if you got the same info packet about a job that I did.”

She’s watching him move, but she gives a small tap of her glass in return. He nods as he makes his way closer, one hand eventually coming up to rest against the small of her back gently. The velvet crush of her dress gives under his fingers as she turns to look at him, offering a small smile.

“So I’m going to assume this is your fault.”

“I’d be offended by that, if I thought you actually meant it,” he teases in return, before signaling the bartender for a refill. “Do you have previous heist experience, Ms. Gilbert?”

“I’ll have you know that I once helped Apollo steal back his sister’s bow from Set.”

“Did you? Then we may just be able to pull this off.”

She laughs a bit at that, before shaking her head. “I’m assuming you have some kind of plan?”

“I do,” he says with a nod, before picking up his newly refilled glass and raising it in the bartender’s direction as a thank you. “And it’s a pretty simple one too.”

“Simple is good,” she says with a nod. “What do I have to do?”

He pauses for a moment, before leaning in to whisper in her ear, a small smirk crossing his lips, almost as though he’s flirting with her. Not that he doesn’t flirt early and often, but they’re trying not to attract suspicion, so might as well pretend this is just another night at a casino for him, rather than his ticket back to Chicago. But Elena’s been through these things before and there’s no reason to say that the end result – that being returning to Chicago – won’t be the end result.

“Are you sure?” she asks as he pulls back, and he nods.

“Do you trust me?”

She raises her eyebrows and smirks. “Because nothing has ever gone wrong with that question.”

“That’s not answering the question, Ms. Gilbert.”

She laughs a bit in return, before nodding in agreement. “Don’t worry, Mr. Caffrey. I trust you.”

“Good,” he grins as he places his glass back down on the table, and reaching for her hand to give her a bit of a spin. She laughs a bit in return, her arms landing around his neck in order to keep her balance. “Then let’s dance.”

If they’re going to rob a casino, might as well do it in style.

Sex: Sam/Bela (Canon AU)
Beach: Stiles/Cora (P&C)
Chair: Kate/Baal (KOL)
Eat: Laura/Parrish (PuppyLove)
Cold: Nik/Marissa (NYW)
Writer's Choice: Liam/Landon (Spamalot)

“Marissa …”

“I am not getting out of this bed.”

It’s a stubborn protest, made from under what seems like an endless pile of blankets, and Nik huffs a soft smile for a moment, before he crosses his mammoth arms and leans into the doorframe. “It’s not that bad.”

One pale hand reaches out from the pile of blankets, fumbles for the cell phone resting on the on the nightstand and after a few moments turns it to face him so that he can see the weather app. “Why is the temperature only one digit?”

“Because it is winter in New York City. Sometimes the temperature does that.”

“Well, I don’t like it.” The hand disappears the blankets again and Nik sighs.

“I don’t think anyone likes it. But that doesn’t mean you can nope out of brunch. And the apartment is not that cold.”

“Do I have to go outside for brunch?”

“Yes, Nadia picked the restaurant.”

There’s a profoundly unhappy noise from the blanket fort, and Nik slowly makes his way around, pulling back the blankets and moves to slide in next to her. It doesn’t take much coercing for her to curl into him, moving towards her large space heater of a boyfriend with ease, and Nik is more than willing to wrap his arms around her tightly, letting her burrow into his shoulder and rubs her arms gently.

“See, this is nice.”

“Good.” He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “I promise it is a very short distance from here to the cab and the cab to the restaurant. Also, it’s sunny out, so it probably won’t feel as cold as it actually is.”

“I call bullshit on that.”

“You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to come out here, you know. You knew what New York was like in the winter.”

It’s Marissa’s turn to sigh as she shifts them a bit, moving so that she was resting on top of him, her chin resting on his chest so she can look at him. “I knew it would be cold, yes. I knew that the first of the two digits could be a two or a three. I didn’t expect there to be only one digit. That’s way more cold than I was anticipating.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“You do remember that I was born and raised in Vegas, right?”

“I do, but we’ll get you a nice warm coat, and your wolf metabolism will keep you warmer, and as I said – from the door to the car and the car to the restaurant, it’s not very far.” She’s still pouting, despite all those reassurances, and he sighs again, reaching forward to steady her shoulders a bit. “Maybe we can invite everyone out to Vegas next Christmas?”

“So I won’t turn into a popsicle and we’ll still get to see your family.”

“Something like that.”

She weighs her options for a moment, considering, before taking a deep breath. “How warm a coat are we talking?”

He smiles a bit in return, before leaning in to kiss her softly. “I’ll show you when we get out of bed.”

She smirks a bit against his lips as she inches up a little more. “Are we not getting up for a while?”

“Well, now that you’ve got me in here all nice and cozy, I’m not really sure I want to go anywhere else.”

“Aren’t we going to be late for brunch?”

“Maybe,” he gives a small shrug as he starts to roll them over so that she’s moving under him, knocking a great many of the blankets she had gathered to burrow under to the floor as a result, tangling them both in the mess. “But I think we got a little time.”

“How much time is a little time?”

“Couple hours,” he murmurs as his lips move to her neck and he can feel the vibrations of her laugh as it rises up through her chest.

“A couple hours? You made it seem much sooner.”

“I thought you would take a lot more convincing.” Her hand pushes back against his shoulder and he pulls away from her neck, letting her see the mischief in his eyes, and she shakes her head as she leans in to kiss him.

“You’re the worst.”

“I love you too.” Her legs shift against his hips as he leans in to kiss her again, pulling the blankets around them and sinking into her embrace completely.

If Nadia asks them why they’re late, they’ll just say they had to warm up a bit first.

before my food gets cold ~ puppy love ~ 859

hereditare - 2018-03-16 20:46 (UTC) - Expand

when i get you alone | canon au | 769 words

enjoythe_ride - 2018-05-27 04:49 (UTC) - Expand

and we make a great escape ~ knights of legend ~ 817

killmypatience - 2018-12-02 23:34 (UTC) - Expand

vacation all i ever wanted | peter & cora | 861

impetere - 2018-12-04 04:40 (UTC) - Expand

won't you let me in ~ spamalot ~ 902

embersneverfade - 2019-02-11 01:35 (UTC) - Expand

004. late » barry, kara
053. wait » laurel lance
018. true » leverage | parker, hardison, eliot

The irony of Barry Allen is that just because he got faster, doesn’t mean he’s ever on time.

He can move hundreds of miles a second, he can cross coasts in the blink of an eye, but at the end of the day, Barry still reacts with the speed of a mortal man. Sometimes, no matter how fast he may be, he may never be fast enough. Those moments, as few and far between as they are, always seem to cost him more than he’s ever prepared to lose, and this moment is no exception.

The battle itself is a hectic one. Kara had called Barry for help, needing the extra metahuman abilities to fight back against this new alien threat. Barry is no Kryptonian, but he’s fast, and most of his focus has been in clearing civilians from the streets of National City while Kara handled the battle from above. For a large part of the battle, that strategy worked well. Clearing the killing field while dodging stray streaks from the heat vision of the two aliens struggling above is easy enough, with the DEO agents helping to get them out of the way, but it isn’t long before Kara starts to lag. As strong as she is, she’s not unyielding, and she can only take those hits for so long before she can’t continue.

The other problem is, it’s very hard to keep tabs on a battle that’s happening over your head.

“Okay, Kara, we’re clear.”

There’s no response. Barry frowns in response and looks up, hand coming up to shield his eyes against the brightness of the sun. There, silhouetted against the horizon, is Supergirl and Reign, with Reign having her hand around Kara’s throat.

“Kara?”

Still no response. Instead, Barry sees Reign’s fingers release, and Kara’s limp body begin to plummet towards the ground. He takes off without even thinking, aiming his path towards one of the nearby buildings so that he can run up the side and catch her before she hits the ground, but in the struggle of Barry versus gravity, gravity is the victor once again. His fingers reach out for her wrist, trying to get a hold on her, but she slips through his fingers and he can’t do anything but watch as she picks up speed again and collides with the ground, hard.

He swings down to where she’s landed, dropping to his knees next to her and moving his fingers to try and find a pulse. It takes a moment, but it’s there, faint and threading under his fingers. He then looks up at Reign, still hovering in the air like she’s lording over them, and Barry grits his teeth in response.

“You won’t get away with this.”

“You think you can stop me.”

“Not yet. Not now. But we will.”

Reign’s eyes begin to glow, and Alex’s voice is in his ear, telling Barry to run, and he does. He scoops up Kara from the ground and speeds away, needing to get Kara back to the DEO as quickly as possible. When he arrives, he skids to a stop, losing control of his speed for a moment and dropping down against the wall. The med team is ready for them, scooping Kara off the ground and moving to begin treating her. Winn and J’onn are close behind them, and Winn watches with wide eyes, before turning back to Barry.

“What happened?”

Barry looks up at them both, before shaking his head. “I wasn’t fast enough.”

i dare you ~ leverage ~ 615

liberatedcroatia - 2019-01-01 21:59 (UTC) - Expand

wait till the sky is clear ~ dctv ~ 349

prosecutorial - 2019-01-08 21:10 (UTC) - Expand

071. Fast Sam/Allison
055. Crime Seth/Wynonna
033. Danger Malia/Tyler

There’s a soft chirp! as the ankle monitoring bracelet clicks into place, and Seth starts to come to, the whole thing feeling like a bit of a haze. When his gaze finally does clear and he can focus on the tall brunette in front of him, and his head tips to the side in confusion.

“Wynonna?”

It’s a second later that Dolls steps into view and he jerks into awareness, yanking on the arm flung over his head and finding it handcuffed. A couple more seconds reveals that he’s a) in a jail cell, b) being fitted for GPS and c) handcuffed to one of the bars. He struggles with the handcuffs for a moment, before he looks back at them, annoyed.

“Is this really necessary?”

“Says the fugitive from justice who faked his own death.” Dolls droll accent is already irritating and he grits his teeth for a moment before the man continues. “Never mind a murderer.”

He tips his head to the side for a moment, before glancing back to Wynonna. “Wynonna, c’mon –”

“If you’re going to pull that ‘you know me’ bullshit, don’t bother.”

“You know I was a criminal when you met me.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know you were a psychopath!” Wynonna looks genuinely angry, and his face softens for a moment. They had been friends – more than friends even – once upon a time, and he thought that out of everyone in Purgatory, she would be the one to vouch for him, but apparently she’s trusting this suit more than she’s trusting him.

“What did you tell her?”

“The truth.” Certain and righteous, just like every other member of law enforcement he’s ever met. “She’s seen your file, Seth. All the bodies left in your wake.”

“Those weren’t me. Those were Richie.”

“How convenient. But you continued to run with him?”

“My brother was sick at the time. In a way you probably wouldn’t understand. He’s better now.” Sort of. Seth turns his attention back to Wynonna. “You’re working with cops now?”

“Don’t turn this back on me,” Wynonna glares, before she caves just a little, and glances back to Dolls, almost as though she’s unsure of what to tell them. “It’s complicated. But my dad used to work with Black Badge back in the day.”

“Wait. Wait wait wait.” Seth pushes himself up. “You’re Black Badge.”

Dolls frowns for a moment, straightening a bit. That clearly isn’t the reaction he was expecting. “You know what Black Badge is?”

“Yeah. Freddie filled me in on the details when you guys tried to recruit him a while back.”

“Freddie Gonzalez. As in the Texas Ranger who’s partner your brother killed. He was recruited for Black Badge, and then told you about it.”

“Yeah, well, Peacekeeper is a tough job when it’s a one man gig. Now are you going to call Freddie and have him vouch for me so I can get to telling you about the hoard of culebras coming into town, or are we going to keep doing this dance?”

Wynonna blinks. “Cul-what?”

“Culebras. Snake vampires. Are you sure they’re coming here?”

“I wouldn’t be here if they weren’t.”

Dolls set his jaw for a moment, before stalking his way back to the phone on his desk and picking it up. There’s a quick conversation and he finally hangs up and moves his way back to the jail cell.

“You’re letting him go?”

“He checks out. But if you try and stab us in the back? I will shoot you.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Seth moves towards Wynonna. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Edited 2018-03-04 00:14 (UTC)

another soldier gone to war ~ supernatural/teen wolf ~ 846

imnot_likeyou - 2018-03-10 23:03 (UTC) - Expand

daddy's little girl, center of his world ~ teen wolf/tvdverse ~ 1,334

wildkingdom - 2019-01-07 19:25 (UTC) - Expand

021. New: Piper/Max
030. Fall: Eliot/Lucy Preston
051. Restaurant: Felicity/Vi/Mongolian BBQ
064. Day: Ro/Bea
089. Flood: Davina/Tandy

Edited 2019-11-23 17:59 (UTC)

There’s a new girl on the docks.

It’s not an uncommon occurrence, as there are new people every month. That’s the way that Teleios works, he’s finding. Every month, like clockwork, the Two bring in a new crop of people to put through their unnecessary tests and they all complain about the same things. Max stopped going at this point, wanting to stop listening to useless questions that no one ever liked the provided answers. It’s a waste of time. And the one person he wants to see shouldn’t be trapped here anyway.

So why go?

Still, there’s a new girl on the dock, and while that would not usually be a thing of note, today he notes it. She’s a pretty girl, that much is true. She seems out of place in a spot where he had been pouring out dead fish from his morning haul only moments before, but he’s glad she’s there. A change in scene from the crassly vocal fishermen is probably good for him, one way or another.

“Can I help you?” he asks as he drops another net of fish down onto the pier next to her, and when she turns and smiles at him, it’s like she’s graced him with a presence Max’s been lacking, a hole he didn’t know needed to be filled.

“I’m here to work,” she replies, hands on her hips. “Which is just as gross as it sounds, but I’m trying to prove a point to someone.”

He can’t help but raise an eyebrow in response, looking her over for a quiet moment. She’s got the standard gold bracelet on her wrist that designates Indebted, so if she’s assigned to work here, there’s nothing he can do to stop her. It’s proving a point that gives him pause. “What kind of point are you proving, exactly?”

“That just because I’m the daughter of a love goddess doesn’t mean I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty. So. Put me to work.”

He should correct her and say he’s not the one actually in charge, there are big burly men behind him who will likely have a better idea of where to start, but he’s too intrigued to say no to that request, and nods to the fish next to him. “Help me sort these? Mostly by size and type. The kitchen doesn’t like it if we don’t sort out the prime fillets.”

“Got it.” She then sticks out a hand to him with a smile. “I’m Piper, by the way.”

He reaches for her hand in return and nods as he shakes it. “I’m Max.”

- - - - - -

Sorting fish turns into flirting, and flirting turns into a few dates, and Max can’t help but feel a small sense of déjà vu. It’s not the first time he’s felt it while being in Teleios, but it’s undoubtedly the strongest. There’s something about Piper that he feels in his bones, and while he doesn’t mention it, he lets her pull him along into the beginning of a relationship, a bond without interrogating it too much. It feels good, it feels right, and he doesn’t want to jinx it on the off chance she might go away.

The first time he kisses her in the front entrance to the temple, it’s almost like coming home, even if ninety percent of the time, he feels so far away from all the things that make home, home. He would have been content to kiss her forever if she hadn’t pulled away and said goodnight. There are few nights like this, with teasingly familiar kisses before he’s sent back to his room and she to hers before things come to a head.

“Wait.”

He stops as soon as she indicates, he always does, but when he does, the look on her face doesn’t match his dopey, teasing smile. The humor fades, and the quiet coax to kiss him some more dies. “What? What is it?”

Piper licks her lips. “What would you say if I told you that we’d done this dance before?”

The moment she says it, he can feel the truth of it – the déjà vu, the knowing that he can’t seem to escape. Still, if they had, he would remember. Wouldn’t he remember? When he doesn’t answer, lingering too long in the silence, she brushes her hand against his cheek.

“I won’t tell you if you don’t want to know. But I don’t know if we can keep doing this if you don’t. It doesn’t feel fair.”

That doesn’t feel acceptable either. The idea of not remembering Piper is one thing, but completely losing her feels impossible, so he stays silent again, waiting for an answer that feels something like the truth. Does he truly want to know? Will this make this better? He can’t be sure. More importantly, can he walk away from this and pretend that it doesn’t mean what it does, even if he can’t put his finger on why.

Piper reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a letter and hands it to him. It’s addressed to her, but she folds his fingers over the edge so that he takes it. “If you don’t want to know, don’t read it. Just send it back to me, and we’ll figure out what’s next. If you do read it … we’ll talk about that too.”

She turns to head back to her room and stands there, staring into the space she’s left behind before he turns and calls after her.

“Do you want me to remember?”

Because he’ll do it for her if that’s what she wants. He doesn’t care about this letter or whatever his reasons may have been for forgetting. He’ll do it for her. He doesn’t understand how he can feel that strong an urge for someone Max hasn’t known long, but it’s there and he’s never been one not to follow those kinds of feelings. She stops and turns back to him before shaking her head.

“It’s not about what I want, Max. This time, it’s all up to you.”

She leaves him standing in the entranceway, letter in hand, and tries not to feel entirely at a loss as to what to do next.

- - - - - - -

He reads the letter three times. The first, to read it because he doesn’t know what it says, even if he should as he seems to have written it. The second, to verify it was indeed his, to check his handwriting against the tired words on the page. Then the third, to take in the weight of it.

The problem is, he can’t say he wouldn’t do this.

According to the letter, his sister went to Utopia, and Piper was gone. It says it didn’t want her to come back as a kid again when he was only getting older and still find himself in love with her. It says Max was taking an offer from an agent to wipe it all away, start himself fresh and work to get where Max needs to be – working off his debt to find his way back to Sally’s side. He wrote the letter to explain, for Aphrodite to give her if she ever did return from wherever it is people go when they leave Teleios so that she would understand and hopefully not be hurt by it.

Piper knew he didn’t remember, but she still came and found him again. He can’t imagine what kind of place he was in to think that forgetting Piper was an acceptable consequence, but Max also isn’t sure he wants to remember now. He doesn’t know who that person is, the person he gave up to become someone new. He knows he probably didn’t like him, as some element of self-loathing is always part of him, but is that enough to wipe him away.

He leans back on his bunk, staring up at the ceiling as he turns the day's events over in his head. Eventually, he reaches for his bracelet, closing his eyes and focusing on the goddess in question to see if he can get her to focus on one thing long enough for a brief conversation.

“And here I thought you were done with me.” He could almost picture her face, blond and beautiful, alternating between warmth and vanity, depending on what suited her. “This must be important.”

“Did I give you this letter?”

“You’re calling me to fact check me?”

He makes a face because he should have known she would make this problematic. She’s made a career of it. But he squares his shoulders and does his best to stay on track. “Did I do this? Because you and me don’t get along, so if I asked you to do this, it must have been for a good reason.”

“Because you knew that if Piper came back, I would be the first person to find her.” The voice becomes resigned, almost as though she’s already had this fight with her alternate universe daughter. “And if your follow up question is going to be why did I let you, it’s because it wasn’t my choice. I wasn’t trying to make your life difficult or keep you out of Piper’s life. That’s my job. My job is to accept your favors when you’re ready to cash them.”

He swallows hard, staring up at the ceiling as he tries to phrase his next question. “Is it worth getting them back? Is she worth it?”

“I can’t answer that question for you.”

“Why not?”

“Because she wasn’t the only thing you forgot. She wasn’t the entirety of your story, nor was she the only thing you were trying to forget. You ask for your memories back, and you’ll be getting all of that.”

She’s right when she says that it’s his story to remember or forget. Before this, he hadn’t felt as though he was operating on empty pockets of information. He had had what he considered to be a good life. But now, he knows what he’s missing. Can he still live with all the vacancies that now sit ahead of him?

“What do I have to do to get them back?”

“Are you asking, or is this purely hypothetical?”

“I’m asking. What do I have to do?”

Silence echoes from the other end of the line, but eventually, she sighs. “I may have a quest that needs doing. If you’re still interested, meet Baal Amari on the dock tomorrow morning. If you don’t, I’ll know you’ve decided to stay as you are.”

“Can I back out in the middle if I change my mind?”

“You mean, can you fail? I would really rather you didn’t. But let’s say that if you change your mind in the middle, I’ll let you bank the favor for later use.”

Max nods, content with the bargain for now. “Deal.”

“Good.” She pauses, before delivering one last parting shot. “If you want my opinion, Max, love is always worth the risk. But then again, it is my brand.”

Max doesn’t respond one way or another. Instead, he curls up on his side, closes his eyes and tries to sleep. Max’s going on a quest tomorrow, after all. He’ll need the rest.

- - - - - - -

He sends a message to Piper early the next morning, letting her know to meet him at the docks. He’s not going to do this without saying goodbye, for better or for worse, but he’s hoping that it’s not goodbye they’ll be saying. When he arrives himself, Baal is there waiting when he arrives, and the usually smooth pirate is leaning against the mast, eyeing Max critically.

“Aphrodite tells me you’re in search of a quest.”

“I am,” Max crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Are you going to tell me that you were in love with me, and I erased you too?”

At that, the stern pirate exterior cracks, and the other man laughs. “No, no, nothing so serious. But you were a great first mate on my boat, once upon a time.”

So. Another friendship forgotten because Max decided to sell them away. The discontent must show on his face, and Baal shakes his head, before coming forward. “There are no hard feelings, my friend. We got to say our goodbyes, and I know why you did it.”

Max nods slowly before looking up at the pirate again. “Do you think I’m doing the right thing, trying to get it back?”

The pirate shrugs. “I can’t say for sure one way or another. But I’ve never found love to be an unworthy cause.” He smirks. “That’s why she likes me.”

Max huffs a laugh as he drops his pack on the deck of the boat, and he turns to see Piper standing there, seeming nervous. He makes his way closer, before holding out the letter to her again. “I wanted to give this back to you. I wrote it to you; you should have it.”

Piper nods, before glancing over the boat and waving to Baal. “So, are you going to get them back?”

“I’m going to get a favor that I may use to get them back. I’m still kind of undecided, and even if I don’t, it’s nice to have one, just in case.”

Piper nods again. “Well. Good luck. Hopefully, you find what you need.”

Max pauses, glancing back to the ship himself, before turning back to her. “Do you want to come with me?”

She blinks in surprise. “You want me to go.”

“I mean, I’m doing this because of you.” Max shrugs. “I don’t know if it’s the things I don’t remember, but I feel like we should be doing this together. And maybe by the time I get there, I’ll know whether or not I want to know.”

Piper squints at him. “Are you implying that I may be terrible company and not worth remembering after all?”

Max smirks, then shrugs. “I mean, I don’t think so, but better to be safe than sorry, don’t you think?” Then he grins, making it clear that he’s kidding, and she smacks him lightly on the shoulder in response.

“You’re the worst. You know what, you don’t have to remember me, but I’m going to come anyway.” She turns to charge over to the boat. “You’re a newbie at questing now. Someone has to make sure you don’t get killed on the way.”

He laughs, before turning to follow her onto the ship. Even if he doesn’t get any answers out of this, he still feels like this is where he’s supposed to be. And no matter what pain may be waiting on the other side, he’s yet to run away from something that’s felt so right.

still we found a reason to carry on ~ leverage/timeless ~ 3,019 ~ part 1

liberatedcroatia - 2020-01-10 03:28 (UTC) - Expand

still we found a reason to carry on ~ leverage/timeless ~ 3,019 ~ part 2

liberatedcroatia - 2020-01-10 03:29 (UTC) - Expand

at last i've seen the sunset i've been riding towards ~ knight of legend ~ 1,180

klep - 2020-03-04 02:18 (UTC) - Expand

forever can never be long enough for me ~ knights of legend ~ 1,300

nonconfrontational - 2020-04-22 05:27 (UTC) - Expand

be afraid of the old, they'll inherit your soul ~ cloak and dagger/tvdverse ~ 2,210

regentem - 2020-06-03 23:21 (UTC) - Expand

030. Fall: Stefan/Freya
069. Come: WestAllen

Swapping #030 for #029 - Arrival.

the morning light disarms you ~ tvdverse ~ 1,437

deathlessness - 2020-01-09 00:34 (UTC) - Expand

you know i love you, did i ever tell you? ~ dctv ~ 1,700

supertardiness - 2020-04-23 04:51 (UTC) - Expand

077. Nate/Zari - Upset
085. Kisa/Seth - Hate
088. Neal/Rebekah - Negative bc i miss them
076. Fen/Julia - Positive
047. Kady/Alice - Kill
019. Aged up!Lizzie/Waverly - Crazy - idk i wanted to throw someone for Waves and this seemed like it could be fun

I think I am done with claims. A lot of femslash this time around, like I do.

Edited 2019-11-24 03:20 (UTC)

Waverly Earp learned at a very young age how to spot someone who’s looking to run. It’s something of a necessity when your sister is Wynonna Earp, and as much as you may love her, she had so many reasons to run from Purgatory that started stacking against her from a young age. What is a rare, uncommon occurrence, however, is someone who decides to run to Purgatory, rather than away from it.

Yet, on this particular day, in the middle of winter, a tall, willowy blond charges into Shorty’s, plops herself on a stool and looks up at her with the kind of pitiful eyes that come with someone who is looking to get far, far away from the things that are troubling them. Waverly’s never seen her before, which means she’s not getting ready to run from their desolate little plains town, but for some reason has decided to come here to hide.

That’s a new one.

“Whiskey,” the woman nods. “Neat.”

“One whiskey coming up.” Waverly picks up a bottle and glass nearby, before tipping her head to the side. “Come for all the Earp shenanigans?”

The blond blinks. “What?”

As she sets down the glass in front of her, Waverly points to the sign behind the blond that reads: Drink where Wyatt drank. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before, and usually, a new face means tourists.”

“Oh.” The blond blinks in surprise. “ … Sure.” It doesn’t sound convincing, but if she doesn’t want to give the real reason why she’s here, then it’s not Waverly’s job to press. It’s only her job to be friendly.

“Well then, welcome to Purgatory.” She holds out a hand to her. “I’m Waverly. I’m pretty much the local Earp expert in these parts.”

“Lizzie.” Lizzie shakes Waverly’s hand, offering a smile in return. “He was a cowboy, right? Big lawman, or something like that.”

“Yeah, something like that.” Waverly drapes a towel over her shoulder. “If you have any questions or need any local info, just let me know. I’ll be around.”

Lizzie nods, and before Waverly could get too far down the bar, she speaks again. “There is someone I’m looking to find. A couple of someones. Mattie and Gretta Perley?”

“Oh.” Waverly reaches up to rub the back of her neck and glances around the bar. She doesn’t know who this stranger is, but if she’s looking for the Blacksmith and the Iron Witch, then Lizzie is undoubtedly looking for supernatural answers and Waverly feels the need to stick close if she can. But she’ll play dumb for now. “I’m sorry but Mattie passed away a little over a year ago, and Gretta left town a while back.”

Lizzie’s face falls immediately, and she knocks back the glass in front of her before gesturing for a refill. “Of course they are. That’s … pretty much status quo for this trip.”

“I’m sorry.” Waverly pours her a refill. “Maybe there’s a way I can help? My family’s been here pretty much as long as the Perleys have. I might be able to help you find what you need.”

Lizzie drums her fingers against the bar, before tipping her head to the side. “Do you know if there are any other archives in town? I’m looking for someone, and while the Perleys were my first lead, I might be able to find something else in the records here.”

At that, Waverly grins. “In that case, I am totally your girl. As I said, no one knows more about Purgatory than me.” She glances down at her watch before frowning. “I have a couple more hours left on my shift, but after that, I can show you what I have of the old records?”

“Perfect.” Lizzie grins in return. “In that case, I better order a burger and open a tab.”

Waverly takes her order, as well as her credit card for the tab, and quietly texts Jeremy on the side to run a search through Black Badge’s records, to be on the safe side. If Lizzie Saltzman is something to worry about, she probably should check it out before she winds up stuck in a closed room with her.

But hopefully, if Lizzie is some type of supernatural, she’s more of a white witch than a black one.

- - - - - -

Upsides about Lizzie Saltzman: her background check came back clean, and she’s as much of a mega nerd as Waverly is. You wouldn’t assume it by looking at her, as she definitely doesn’t seem like your traditional bookworm with her in your face personality, but her pop culture references are always on point, and she moves through Waverly’s records like someone who thoroughly trained in the process. It takes her about a week to sort through all of Waverly’s old boxes of town records, but in the end, she only manages to come out disgruntled.

“Damnit!” She slumps back against the bed in Waverly’s old apartment; the one Waverly loaned her while Lizzie was in town, and scrubs a hand over her face. “It’s all dead ends.”

“Hey,” Waverly reaches out to place a hand on her shoulder gently. “We’ll figure it out. Maybe if you told me more about the situation, I might be able to point you in a better direction?”

For a moment, Lizzie looks like she might tell her. She’s been so secretive about her life before Purgatory – all she’s shared is that she’s from Virginia – but before anything could come out, Lizzie’s phone rings. The name “Josie” flashes across the screen, and Lizzie huffs, before swiping ignore on the lock screen. It’s not the first call Lizzie ignored, some from “Josie,” but others with names like “Dad,” “Mom,” and “Hope.” Whatever she’s running from, Waverly only hopes that she’s giving them some sign of life in return.

Still, that reminder is enough to make Lizzie clamp down on her secrets and shake her head.

“I just … I don’t know what to do. And I’m running out of time.”

Waverly takes a breath before shaking her head. “I know what we should do. We should take a breath, go downstairs, have some drinks, do some dancing and just … reset our brains. We can start fresh in the morning.”

Lizzie looks over at Waverly, then back to the text in her hand. “You know what? I’m not sure that’s the right idea, but right now, it seems like the more fun idea, so let’s do it.”

What follows is a lot of whiskey. So much whiskey. It also involves some karaoke, a lot of pool and some dancing. Somewhere between the whiskey and the dancing, personal space becomes less and less of an issue, until Waverly’s pushing Lizzie up against the wall just beyond the stairwell and kissing her just because she can. Lizzie kisses her back with the fervor of someone convinced that this may be the last kiss they ever have.

It bowls Waverly over in a way that makes her even less inclined to resist than she was previously, and lets herself be led down the hallway to the apartment until they’re collapsing on the couch together in a tangle of limbs and lips.

- - - - - -

The thing that wakes them both up, unfortunately, is the sound of Jeremy’s ringtone irritates their sizeable hangovers. Waverly groans as she tries to fumble her hand forward without both disturbing Lizzie or to move much at all, but her phone happens to be out of reach and she finds herself tumbling to the floor with a thump. Lizzie jerks awake in response, before wincing.

“What is that awful sound?”

“My phone. Just … one sec.” Waverly finally finds her phone and answers it, placing it to her ear with a sigh. “Hey, Jeremy. What’s up?”

“You okay? Wynonna said you weren’t at the homestead last night.”

“Yeah, I was just … busy.”

“Busy with your new blond friend?”

“Jeremy, I’m very hungover, so if you’re calling me just to gossip, can we do it later?”

“Right, sorry. We need you. We got a revenant sighting up by the Blacksmith’s old place.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll be right there.” There are a few more comments to confirm details before she hangs up and then turns to Lizzie with an apologetic look. “Normally, I’m not the type to wham, bam, thank you ma’am, but … I gotta go.”

Lizzie props her head up in her hand and smirks like she knows something Waverly doesn’t. “Something to do with your Black Badge friends?”

Waverly starts in response, squinting at her. “How did you …”

“You weren’t the only one who vetted the other. Or has friends in shady government places.” Lizzie swings her legs over the side of the couch and starts reaching for her clothes. “Can I come?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“I think it’s an excellent idea,” Lizzie pulls her jeans up her legs and then fumbles for her bra. “Please? I can help, and I can’t spend another day trapped up here, pouring over records that aren’t helping.”

It goes against all of Waverly’s better judgment, but she can already feel herself caving. “It’s going to be dangerous.”

“I can handle myself.”

Waverly purses her lips, knowing that she should stay strong in the face of Lizzie’s pout, but in the end, she relents, nodding in agreement. “Okay. Fine. But if it starts to get too crazy for you, you go back to the car.”

“Deal.” Lizzie grins. “You won’t regret this. I kill it at Hero Time.”

Waverly can’t help the smile that darts across her face in return, before pulling on her jacket and leading Lizzie out the door.

- - - - - - -

“So this is the Blacksmith’s place, huh? Spooky.”

Lizzie’s peering closely at the abandoned structure, almost as though she’s looking for something that Waverly can’t see. She tries not to reason it too much as she climbs out of the car and heads over to where Wynonna and the others are waiting. They’re down the hill from the building, so the revenant in question doesn’t see them coming.

“That’s what happens when you die, and your sister splits town without a word.” Waverly looks over at Lizzie, her gaze slightly sympathetic. “Look, my sister is going to be Wynonna about this so just … don’t take it personally, okay?”

“Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure I’ve heard worse.” The two of them swing out of the car and make their way closer, and true to form, Wynonna seems more than a little surprised when she sees Lizzie at Waverly’s side.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that today was Take Your Booty Call to Work Day.”

“It’s not?” Lizzie crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Then what’s he doing here?” She nods towards Doc, and Waverly can’t help but cover her mouth with her hand to hide the laugh.

“Excuse me?” Wynonna snaps back, and Lizzie rolls her eyes.

“Oh, please. I’ve been living at Shorty’s all week and you two aren’t exactly what I’d call subtle.”

“She’s kind of got you there, Wynonna,” Jeremy comments, and Wynonna rolls her eyes.

“Okay, listen, Karen—”

“Lizzie.”

“Whatever. Doc happens to be a valued member of this team. He has proven his worth. I barely even know who you are.”

“As I said. Name’s Lizzie. Here to help. So why don’t we assess the situation instead of giving me the third degree about my intentions?”

Wynonna blinks, then looks at Waverly, who shrugs. “She already knows what Black Badge is. I think she can help.”

Wynonna grits her teeth before nodding. “Fine. The situation happens to be less shit than usual, because the revenant doesn’t seem interested in leaving the forge, but that doesn’t mean we can leave him hanging out in there. Eventually, he’s going to get bored.”

“Shouldn’t that make the situation pretty easy?” Lizzie raises an eyebrow. “Go in, do your thing, and get out.”

“Problem is, we don’t know why he’s stuck,” Jeremy volunteers, then waves. “Hi. I’m Jeremy. Nice to meet you.” Wynonna glares at him, and he falls silent after that.

“The Forge used to be the home of …”

“The Blacksmith, Mattie Perley.” Lizzie glances up to the forge again, and Waverly could see the lines of disappointment that she had gotten there too late. “He’s probably trapped in her wards.”

“Exactly.” Jeremy smiles. “So we don’t know if we can go in there without also aggravating the wards, and we don’t know how to disarm them.”

“Also, we don’t know if we should. Mattie was protecting a lot of powerful magical stuff,” Waverly points out. “A lot of it we don’t know or understand.”

“Guess it’s a good thing Waverly brought me then.” Lizzie then charges past Wynonna, heading up the hill towards the revenant in question before anyone could stop her. The team stares at her back, gaping, and she’s about halfway up before she glances back over her shoulder. “You coming or what?”

Waverly doesn’t have to be told twice, and she begins to jog up after her, shotgun in hand. She’s, at least, not going to let Lizzie get killed if no one else is coming. As they crest over the top of the hill, they can see the revenant in question thrashing in the open doorway of the building. Lizzie charges forward, undeterred, before holding up a hand to the wall and closing her eyes. Waverly watches as the edges of her hand begin to glow, and when Lizzie pulls it back, she swings her hands forward in a push motion.

“Patere.” The revenant flies back towards the wall, pinning him in place. Then, Lizzie smiles. “Hi, there. I don’t think this place belongs to you.”

“Put me down, you bitch.”

“Now, that’s not very nice.” Lizzie tips her head to the side. “Especially coming from a Sons of Anarchy cosplaying wannabe who got himself caught where he’s not supposed to be.” She smirks. “Now, I could drain all these wards and let you go peacefully, but I have a feeling you would do some not so nice things, so I think, for the time being, I’m gonna wait for the Heir to get here and take care of business herself. What do you think, Waves?”

Waverly, who’s mostly just been awestruck this whole time, blinks, then nods her agreement. “Yep. I think that’s the best plan.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

Fortunately for the revenant, Wynonna isn’t far behind, and it takes one well-placed shot to send him back to Hell where he belongs. As the fires recede, Lizzie drops her arms down and rolls out her shoulders, a look on her face that says managing to be useful is a good look on her.

“So,” Wavery nods. “You’re a witch.”

Lizzie’s proud smirk turns a bit sheepish, and she nods. “I am a witch. Strictly on the Glinda side of things, I swear.”

“Good to know.” Waverly takes a deep breath before looking around the Forge. “Guess we better get started sorting through all this, huh?”

If Lizzie appreciates the deflection, she doesn’t say one way or another. Instead, she looks over the room like she’s hungry for what she might find and nods. “Yeah. I think that sounds like a great plan.”

Edited 2020-01-04 23:17 (UTC)

sing it loud so i can hear you ~ tvdverse/wynonna earp ~ 3,342 ~ part 2

stupetballs - 2020-01-04 23:18 (UTC) - Expand

you say vengeance is his but imma do it first ~ teleios ~ 2,604

brakewoman - 2020-02-27 03:55 (UTC) - Expand

so much of me is made of what i learned from you ~ the magicians ~ 1,500

consortial - 2020-04-24 05:06 (UTC) - Expand

for all she can take, there is more there to steal ~ dctv ~ 1,600

hackedhistory - 2020-04-26 00:55 (UTC) - Expand

you never get much for the dues you pay ~ from dusk til dawn ~ 962

bulletless - 2020-06-01 22:33 (UTC) - Expand

and i always get those dangerous dreams ~ tvdverse/white collar ~ 1,145

alias_savant - 2020-06-02 23:05 (UTC) - Expand

060. Waverly/Alice - Thirst i'm shameless and idc
045. Cora/Alek - Animal
050. Neal/Margo - Affair
010. Sarah & Serena - Think
031. Amaya/Zari or Amaya/Zari/Nate - Appear
037. OT4 aka Raf/Hope/Landon/Josie - Loud

You don't have to do these all ftr (esp if someone else wants them)!! I just like giving options shh.

Edited 2019-11-25 08:20 (UTC)

The bow staff comes down hard over Serena’s head, and she stumbles backward a few paces before throwing her staff upwards to block the blow. She winces as the wood vibrates under her hands, then glances over at her cousin and raising an eyebrow.

“Ow.”

Sarah doesn’t seem all that concerned. “You’d be more on your game if you hadn’t gone out with the other pilots last night.”

“Okay, yes, I’m a little hungover.” Serena’s willing to concede the point, before shifting lower, spinning in a smooth motion to swipe at her cousin’s feet. Sarah catches it in time to hop out of the way, but Serena is already behind her, and the other woman smirks before tapping her on the shoulder with the staff lightly. “But I’m not completely useless.”

Sarah rolls her eyes as she turns on her heel herself to bring her staff down again. Serena catches it again with her staff, and Sarah fixes her with a look. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Mmmm-hmmm.”

They go through a few more blows, matching each other with each stroke until sirens start to blare through the base as a whole. The two women glance together in unison towards the main door, watching as pilots, cadets and scientists run through towards the bridge. One of them happens to stop and turns into the training room to address them.

“Saber Athena – you’re up.”

Both their faces sober, before Sarah turns and raises an eyebrow at her cousin. “That would be what I was worried about.”

- - - - - -

Whenever someone tries to make a science out of drift compatibility, Newt tends to point at Sarah Monroe and Serena Chen and say, “Go for it.” He says this, not because he believes they’re shining examples of all the ways drift compatibility work, but more because on paper, they look like an absolute mess. Even, calm and measured, Sarah is the one more likely to think before she leaps, relying on training and expertise rather than messier things like emotions and intuition. Her cousin is the exact opposite. Impulsive and effusive, Serena leaps before she looks, trusting in a force beyond herself to the point that it may be considered dangerous. Yet, their neural handshake is one of the cleanest on the base.

The only thing that makes sense about it all is the fact that they’re family. Beyond that, no one would have considered the partnership viable if they hadn’t seen them in action.

Serena prefers the mystery, but given that she’s on a base full of scientists and military men, they’re not all that willing to go with her in faith. She knows it’s about trust, that after all this time, there’s no one on this base they trust more than each other. But as they prepare for the neural handshake, just on the outside of the station in question, she knows that sometimes even drift compatibility is unexplainable.

“Neural handshake in fifteen seconds … fourteen … thirteen … twelve …”

Serena closes her eyes as she listens to the countdown, taking a moment to quiet everything else as she centers her brain. She’s always found it easier to embrace the drift rather than try too heavily to maintain herself in it. She knows who she is, and she knows who Sarah is, so finding that unique place in the drift, where neither of their memories is warring for dominance, is nothing but a peaceful focus on the task at hand. They find the kaiju. They punch the kaiju until it stops moving. They go home to their respective significant others, and everyone happily lives another day.

Worrying about the worst-case scenario? That’s never an option right before going into the drift.

“Ready?” Serena asks, glancing over to Sarah, and her cousin nods with a small smile. It’s not their first mission, it hopefully won’t be their last, but the response is always the same – this tiny little ritual to remind them both that they’re in this together.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“ … three … two … one.”

The neural handshake itself only takes a moment. Sarah’s regimented presence appears in the corner of her mind, and Serena takes the opportunity to wrap around her like a blanket. Nothing constraining or attempting to drown her in the weight of her memories, but more like taking her hand, mentally speaking, and letting Sarah know that they’re in this together. It takes only moments for them to calibrate and get on the same page, before Serena tears her eyes away from the front of the jaeger, and glances to the woman next to her.

“Okay. Let’s do this.”

They begin to surge forward, three powerful, heavy steps before they launch themselves off the edge of the carrier and plunge forward into the cold, frothy waves of the ocean below.

- - - - - -

They aren’t alone, but in the darkness of the ocean, it can feel like it.

The jaeger protects them from the pressure of the ocean around them, but they’re deep enough that even if it isn’t going to kill them, that doesn’t mean they can’t feel it. The weight of millions of tons of cubic pressure closing in around them would be enough to make anyone nervous. Still, this is a situation they’ve run many times before. They need to find their monstrous friend in question.

This part of a hunt is more about silence than killing time. Some teams can’t make it through without expressing all of their thoughts out loud, almost as though they’re unaware of the fact that a neural network binds them in the first place. Despite how effusive Serena could be, she and Sarah weren’t one of those teams. In moments like this, Sarah’s personality is more dominant, quiet observation until somewhere, in the inky blackness of the Pacific ocean, a blue crackle of unnatural electricity flickers.

“See that?” Sarah confirms, and Serena nods.

“Let’s go to work.”

They start bounding through the water, loping against sand piles that give under the pressures of their feet, but the buoyancy of the water makes them weightless enough that they manage to counterbalance each other. They slowly make their way closer and closer and that crackling electricity begins to draw more and more of a picture in the inky blackness and this thing is huge. Too huge for them to safely take on their own, but small enough that they can take the head-start.

“Coyote Tango, you seeing this?”

“Copy, Athena, we’re on our way.”

They’re still far enough out that the kaiju hasn’t noticed them yet, but they will be soon. Serena asks the question silently, the edge of a question on the corner of Sarah’s mind, and she receives the soft pressure of confirmation in return. They keep up their speed, hands moving to clasp behind their backs in unison before drawing out Athena’s dual blades and charge in headfirst.

“Tango?” Serena asks as they rocket towards this thing that’s starting to realize it’s about to get ambushed.

“On your six. Take the shot.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Sarah finishes.

They both jump, kicking their legs to give themselves an arc of range over the kaiju’s head and driving the blade down straight into it’s back. The creature roars in pain and thrashes, a sound that somehow manages to reverberate through the water. They follow the arc through to land them on the other side of the beast just in time to see Coyote Tango coming up behind them, cannons drawn. Two massive blasts collide with the creature's side, and it thrashes again, finally deigning to rise from its crouched position, and swinging one heavy tail towards Tango. Athena comes around again, this time spinning into a slice that went to the right and up, catching one of the legs and severing a few vital tendons.

The creature howls in pain again, and there’s a whoop from Tango’s pilots as it comes in again for another blast from the arm cannons. The beast manages to whip around to avoid the worst of them, letting the explosion fizzle out elsewhere in the water, while a sizeable heavy tail comes about and knocks Tango off its knees. As it completes the motion, it turns and faces Athena, and Serena and Sarah get the first look at it head-on.

Its head would be like a dragon if dragons were real. A sizeable toothy maw opens as more crackles of that unnatural electricity begin to gather, forming a plasma-ball of its own that’s aimed directly at Saber Athena. Somewhere, somewhere while being in perfect sync, the two of them freeze. Not long, it couldn’t have been more than a second, even if it feels like it stretched out forever in Serena’s mind until the voice of Tango’s pilots manages to snap them out of it.

“Athena, move!”

They snap into action in perfect unison, crouching against the seafloor and pushing upwards, hoping that the ball will float safely under them, but they don’t move fast enough. As the blast catches them around the middle, Serena doesn’t have time to weigh the what-ifs before everything goes black and they’re blasted over the edge of a crevice and deeper into the dark of the ocean.

- - - - - - -

“Serena? Serena!”

She comes to, and all she can feel is panic.

Serena doesn’t know how the neural handshake managed to survive the blow – maybe she wasn’t as unconscious as she thought she was; maybe Sarah kept her tethered rather than having her drift off into nothingness, it doesn’t matter. She can feel her cousin’s fear as she hangs in the harness, head slowly lifting to take in the sights around them. Then, her inside arm reaches out and rests on Sarah’s shoulder gently.

“It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Concern follows relief in a flood as Sarah’s hand comes up to rest over her cousin’s. “You sure?” Usually, it’s not a question she would ask, which is how Serena knows that Sarah already knows that something is wrong. She rolls one shoulder, the one attached to Sarah, before shifting to roll the second and feeling nothing but pain. She winces as she stares at her useless arm.

“Maybe not as okay as I originally stated. My right arm is gone.”

“I was afraid of that.” Sarah’s afraid of a lot of things, but given that Serena is awake and talking, those more grave concerns slide to the background for now. Right now, they need to figure out how they’re going to get out of this particular pickle. “Life support and all essential systems are still working, but the damage is extensive. I think we lost the arm.”

The arm being her now bad arm. Fantastic. Serena takes a deep breath. “Are we close enough to send out a distress signal?”

“I think we have to get a few thousand feet higher. I think the kaiju threw us down another trench.” Sarah’s face is a continual mask of calm, but Serena’s in her head. She knows how scared Sarah is underneath it all.

“Then let’s figure out how to do this.” Sarah gives her a dubious look, and Serena grits her teeth before straightening. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like dying in the Marianas Trench today.” This slice of the ocean is not the Marianas Trench, but given if she looks down, she can’t see the bottom, she doesn’t think there’s much of a difference. Sarah still looks doubtful and Serena reaches over to give her shoulder another squeeze. “We’ve been in worse scrapes than this. We can do this. We need to assess the problem.”

Something at which Sarah had always excelled. Serena isn’t going to let her stop being good at that now. She watches as her cousin takes a deep breath and starts pulling up the various console screens, slowly trying to power up Saber Athena and make sure that they don’t implode in the process. Once the multiple sensors start to come up, the data confirms what they already knew. They are far deeper than they should be, the arm missing, but fortunately for them, the cousins not as deep as they could have gone. They somehow caught themselves on a growth coming out of the side of the wall and were now tangled in place.

“Good news, if we apply enough force, we should be able to get ourselves free,” Sarah nods, before glancing back to Serena. “Bad news, we’re not going to have a whole lot of leverage to push ourselves upwards. We’d either have to sink more, or find a way to use the wall.”

“Then, let's use the wall.” Serena shifts to try and steady herself, even with the bad arm. “Treat it like pushing off the wall of a pool. Put as much power in our legs as we can and then kick until we get to the surface.”

“Depending on what’s holding us in place, it could tear us apart.”

“Well, we have to turn around and get in position first anyway. Would probably give us a chance to test our limits.”

Sarah nods, some of her confidence returning as she recalibrates herself then reaches down to run her hands over whatever happened to be holding them in place. “There’s some damage, but it looks like most of it is seaweed. That should give when we fight to get free.”

“Perfect. Let’s do this.”

“Serena, if this doesn’t work –”

“It will work.”

“But if it –”

“It will.” Serena turns to face her with a small smile. “And don’t worry. I already know. I’m in your head, remember?”

Sarah flashes her a small smile in return, before nodding and shifting back into position. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

It’s slow going to get them turned around into the proper position with only one arm, but they manage, bracing themselves against the wall and coiling as much power as they could into their legs. Once they’re firmly in position, Sarah’s game face is back on, and they’re back into their productive silence, aside from one command:

“On three.”

She doesn’t bother to count out loud. On three, they both push off of the wall in unison, shooting upwards towards the surface, kicking as hard as they could behind them. Slowly, the barometer begins to climb, inching further and further upwards until the radio starts to crackle to life, and when they’re just about to hit the surface, the message comes through pure and clear.

“—Athena, where the hell are you?”

“God, Choi,” Serena sighs as the head of the jaeger breaks the surface. “I have never been so happy to hear your voice.”

Cheers erupt from the other end of the line before they get back to business for more pertinent questions. “You two alright?”

“Mostly, but we’re going to need help getting back to base. We’re pretty much working at half-capacity here.” Sarah pauses, before asking the question they needed answered. “The kaiju?”

“Tango finished it. And we’ve got your GPS signal. Just take it easy, and we’ll be out to get you soon.”

The radio goes quiet, and the girls glance at each other with a small smile, before Serena reaches over to take Sarah’s hand. “Told you we’d figure it out.”

Sarah nods, squeezing her hand in return. “Still, let’s never let that happen again.”

Serena smirks, before nodding her agreement. “Oh, definitely. Never, ever again.”

and i still breathe you in my lungs ~ tvdverse ~ 2.891

polydeukes - 2020-02-18 02:44 (UTC) - Expand

that's when something wild calls you home ~ post-villagers (maybe) ~ 1,634

impetere - 2020-02-25 03:44 (UTC) - Expand

but just like the battle of troy, there's nothing subtle here ~ villagers ~ 1,769

alias_savant - 2020-02-28 04:18 (UTC) - Expand

lovely lady, let me drink you please ~ villagers ~ 2.128

stupetballs - 2020-03-14 20:03 (UTC) - Expand

there's something between us that nobody else needs to see ~ dctv ~ 2,200

hackedhistory - 2020-04-21 04:50 (UTC) - Expand

006. Hot - Derek & Hayley
023. False - Stiles (your choice)
056. Choke - Poe + anyone from KOL
099. Writer's Choice - Baal & Beckett

Derek Hale is a problem.

Hayley learns this fairly early on after moving in with him and Klaus. Living in DC means spending her fair share of time with politicians’ kids, and she often expects them to be mostly like Klaus – mostly an asshole, but occasionally capable of being kind when the moment calls for it. Derek Hale is not that. Derek Hale is a nice guy.

A genuine nice guy.

Hayley convinces herself early on that nothing’s ever going to happen between them. Hayley is also a rather large asshole ninety percent of the time, and she knows that nice guys are not in her future, never mind the roadblocks that come with their relationship on a personal level. For one, she carried and birthed his best friend’s child. For another, they spend a large amount of their time together covered in spit-up or trying to ease the cries of a tiny infant. It’s not sexy. At all. Not even when she comes home to the two of them passed out on the couch with Hope curled up on his chest. She feels absolutely nothing when she sees that, at all.

(God, she’s so fucked.)

It doesn’t help matters that this summer in DC happens to be sweltering, and halfway into July, the AC breaks. It’s not good for the house and it’s not good for Hope, so they each take turns getting her out of the house into an air-conditioned space until theirs happens to get fixed. Today Klaus takes his turn, sweeping Hope out in her cutest outfit to show off to his sisters, which means she and Derek stay behind in the oven of a house to wait out the repairman.

“Are you sure there are no other windows left to open?” Hayley fans herself with a newspaper as she makes her way through the house, eyes checking each wall to make sure all of them are open. “Because I still feel like I’m baking.”

“I’m sure there are no more windows.” Derek is sprawled on the couch, shirtless and barefoot, trying to make the most of the breeze wafting in from the window above it. Hayley does her best not to let her eyes linger on the expanse of skin in front of her and focus on his face, even if she very much does want to look. “Maybe we should see if we can get some fans to plugin?”

“Is it better or worse to circulate hot air throughout an already hot house?”

“Better than the air not moving at all? Probably.”

Hayley shakes her head, placing the newspaper to the side to sweep her long hair up off her neck to cool down for some more. “When’s the guy supposed to get here?”

He glances at his watch. “He was supposed to be here an hour ago, so at this point, who knows.” His eyes then wander to her, lingering on the long legs exposed by her shorts, and she clears her throat. His eyes snap back to her face and she takes a breath before shaking her head.

“Should we call them?” She shifts uncomfortably as him looking her in the eye isn’t much better, but it keeps her from tracing a rivulet of sweat down over his muscles.

“Already did. Said they’ll get here when they get here.”

“Great.” She huffs, knowing she needs to take herself out of this room or else Hayley’s either going to combust or do something she regrets. “Well … I’m going to take a cold shower while we wait him out.”

He laughs behind her, and she hears the creak of the couch as he gets to his feet, making his way closer. “Ready to take extreme measures?”

She can hear the way he challenges her, even if it’s not an explicit one. When she turns to look, he’s much closer than he was previously, and she can’t help the way her spine straightens in response, chin tipping up to challenge him in return. “And you’re not?”

“I think there might be more fun ways to approach the problem.” He shrugs one shoulder, and a slow smile crosses his face. “I think if we’re going to get sweaty, we might as well do it for fun reasons.”

He’s so close. Hayley takes a step back, her back connecting with the door jamb behind her, and he doesn’t advance on her. She’s still within arm’s reach but he’s waiting for her to give the signal to show that she wants this as much as he does.

“That is a terrible idea.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because you could do way better than me.”

“Says who, exactly?”

“The universe?” she tips her head to the side. “Look, there’s a reason I keep winding up with guys like Klaus, not guys like you.”

Derek’s head tips to the side and he shakes his head. “No offense, Hayley, but I think you’ve got me on some pedestal and you really should knock me off it.”

“Oh, really? Why’s that?”

“Because I don’t think that just because I’m one kind of guy means we shouldn’t do something that might both make us happy.” He pauses, before smirking. “Also, there’s a reason why Klaus is my best friend. I might be more of an asshole than you think.”

She laughs. “And the fact that I had Klaus’ baby doesn’t bother you?”

“You guys aren’t getting back together, right?”

“Not planning on it, no.”

“So, no problem.”

“What about Hope?”

“Hope is too young to understand any of what we’re doing at the moment.”

“But if we don’t work out. If we go down in flames – Hope loses you. And she needs at least one sane male role model in her life.”

“Hayley …”

“I want her to have good people in her life, so sue me.”

His hands come up and take hers in his, using them to draw her attention back to the matter at hand. “Hayley, you could come up with a bucket list of reasons why we shouldn’t. But I don’t think that matters as much as whether or not this is something you want. Because if you don’t want it, then I’ll back off and take my own cold shower, and you’ll never have to hear about it again. But if you do –”

Before he can finish the question, she steps forward, cupping his face in her hands and drawing him into a warm kiss. Whatever he intended to say dies on his lips and he melts into the kiss almost immediately. His hands find their way to her waist, running up her side delicately, then teasing the bottom of her tank top to catch patches of exposed skin and she can’t help but shiver. It’s been so long since anyone’s touched her. Having it be here and now feels right, even if she doesn’t want to admit it does.

Her arms wind around his neck to pull him closer, pushing up on her toes to get nice and close, and she can feel his hand start to tease her tank top further upwards. She wants to let him make this go as far as it’s going to go, when a heavy hand comes down hard against the front door, shocking them both out of their embrace.

BANG BANG BANG!

“Someone call for HVAC repair?”

Hayley closes her eyes with a groan as she slumps back against the doorframe again, and Derek swears as he takes a small step back to go to the door. Before he gets too far, he turns and points to her.

“This is not over.”

Hayley nods once as she lets him go and deal with the repairman. Will they still feel the same when there’s fresh cool are pumping back through the house again, and their temperature has come down a bit? She’s not sure.

But on the off chance, they do? She hopes that the repairman gets done super fast.

but you treat me like a stranger ~ canon au ~ 1,589

thisholyspark - 2020-01-07 03:19 (UTC) - Expand

well i'm a weapon of mass destruction ~ knights of legend ~ 1,303

generaldavideus - 2020-03-10 00:23 (UTC) - Expand

happy ever after in the market place ~ knights of legend ~ 850

killmypatience - 2020-06-06 21:40 (UTC) - Expand

011. Disgust - Scott/Lydia
025. Cancer - Connor/Robin
031. Knife - Oliver/Tommy/Laurel
034. Neutral - Dinah Squared
036. Fly - Lena/Mon-El I'M GONNA WRITE IT we're gonna pretend Karolsen didn't die.
080. Ignorant - Kara/Kate
100. Writer's Choice - Finn/Rey/Poe

Edited 2020-01-03 23:23 (UTC)

Stiles and Lydia break up after she graduates MIT.

It’s mutual. Stiles wants to stay on the east coast, give the FBI a real shot until he can get transferred to work under Scott’s dad somewhere closer to Beacon Hills. Lydia doesn’t really know what she wants beyond more academia, but the nematon’s been calling her home for four years, and while she doesn’t necessarily want to return to the town that drenched her in blood and gore for her high school years, there’s something about that draw that she doesn’t understand yet, and Stiles can’t explain away for her. Plus, the expected epic love story she walked into this hoping for fell a little flat in the end.

It’s nothing either of them did wrong. It’s more a case of building things up for so long, too long, that it doesn’t seem like there’s anywhere else for them to go. They both agree a break will be good for both of them. It’ll give Lydia a chance to assess what she wants.

“You should come to London.”

Jackson calls her while she’s driving back, her entire life packed into the back of an SUV. She stops for lunch at a roadside rest stop to take the call, and she rolls her eyes.

“And that’s going to solve my nematon problem how, exactly?”

“Maybe it’s not a problem you’re supposed to solve. Maybe it’s a problem you’re supposed to ignore.” When she doesn’t comment, he continues. In true Jackson fashion, he doesn’t want to give her time to weigh her options, only continue to force his preferred option down her throat until she agrees. “C’mon. You won’t have to pay anything. Ethan and I can put you up here at the penthouse, and I’ll pay for everything.”

“I don’t know, Jackson.”

“‘I don’t know’ isn’t a no. Which means there’s still room for a yes.”

She laughs. “Let me get my stuff to California and then I’ll think about it. I’ll have time before the semester starts at UCLA, so maybe I’ll arrange for a vacation.”

“Good.” She can hear the smile in his voice. “Because I miss you.”

“You show that so well by only coming to see me when someone’s in danger of dying.”

“Is that what you want? You want me to visit you? Because I will.”

“Oooh, you, me, and Scott alone in Beacon Hills with no buffer. I don’t see that going as well as you may think.”

“It’s not like I don’t have the means. All you have to do is say the word.”

“As I said. I’ll think about it. Stay safe over there.”

“Always.”

When he hangs up, she looks over the empty expanse of the highway in front of her and sighs. Part of her really would love an elegant, extravagant vacation she absolutely can’t afford, but she knows that’s not why she wanted to take this break from the east coast. The only way she’s going to solve a problem like the nematon is to focus.

So focus is what she’s going to do.

- - - - - - -

Her re-arrival back into Beacon Hills is a quiet one, mostly acknowledged by her mother and her much older dog. Her first day back in town involves buying a step stool for Prada so that she can quickly help herself up onto Lydia’s bed without too much hassle and rearranging her room so that she can have a productive workspace. The next day after that is working, making up for the week she lost in transit, making sure all her scattered notes and voice memos make it into her work, rather than lingering on her phone for the rest of eternity.

On the third day, she makes it out to the nematon.

It still looks exactly as she remembers it, a large stump, reminiscent of the giant tree it used to be. She watches the endless rings that spiral across the wood, tracing endless circles that notate the numbers of years it’s rest here, providing power to those who needed it, offering protection, saying, “Come to me, be with people like you.”

In some ways, it feels like she’s coming home, truly, but she wishes she didn’t feel the pull at all.

She reaches out slowly, moving to press one hand against the cool wood when she hears a stick snap in the distance, and she fights the urge to snap around and be ready to attack. Beacon Hills has been quiet since they banished Monroe. It’s probably not danger unless she’s the canary in the coalmine that draws in the next dangerous thing to prey on the people here. Still, her fist balls at her side, and she’s prepared to swing until she hears the voice attached to the footsteps.

“Lydia?”

All the tension flees her body when she realizes it’s Scott. Instead, she smiles and turns to face him with a nod. “Hey, Scott.”

A big dopey grin crosses his face, and that is genuinely the only homecoming she ever wanted. Not some freaky spiritual tree, not all of the baggage that comes with it, but the wide smile of the alpha who kept them all together and kept them all safe for so many years. He holds out his arms to her and she happily leans into him, letting him wrap her in the welcome home hug she didn’t realize she was craving.

“When did you get back?”

“A couple of days ago.” She steps back when he releases her, sliding her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “I had some non-Beacon Hills stuff I needed to settle, but I was going to come by the clinic, I promise. I was just … ”

“Getting used to being back?”

“Something like that.”

He doesn’t seem bothered by the deflection, which she appreciates. Instead, he waves a hand back towards town. “Have time for breakfast? I’ll buy.”

Lydia can’t help the smile that crosses her face as she takes his arm. “I think that sounds perfect.”

- - - - - - -

“So, I heard about you and Stiles.”

Lydia glances down at her plate and nods. “Halfway into my omelet before you brought up the S-word. I’m impressed.”

He winces as he cuts into his pancakes. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make it weird.”

“No, it’s okay. I mean, we’re still friends. Sometimes it feels like … aside from the non-friend things; we were never really more than that.”

Scott’s brow furrows. “You think so?”

Lydia shrugs, reaching for one of the pieces of toast, resting on the secondary plate nearby. “It feels all romantic and like a whirlwind when he was this thing I couldn’t remember, or when we were apart, but when we were together … the spark went away fast. And I thought that maybe that’s just what having a real relationship is, but I don’t think it was.” She pauses, then glances away, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. You’re his best friend. You shouldn’t have to hear all of this.”

“No, it’s okay.” Scott shakes his head. “You’re my friend too. And honestly? He told me pretty much the same thing.”

In some ways, it’s a relief. That Lydia and Stiles were both on the same page, for once, even if it means that page is the end of their relationship. It makes her feel like if they both decide to move on, one of them isn’t going to be lingering around, waiting for the other to come back and feel the same again. It’s nice to have a relationship that ends on equal footing, for once. But that doesn’t necessarily mean she wants to talk about it anymore. She waves a fork as she goes back to her omelet.

“What about you and Malia?”

Scott shakes his head. “We broke up a while ago. I wasn’t really what she wanted.”

“Does she know what she wants?”

“Not really. But knowing Kira, I have a feeling she’ll find it.”

She smiles softly before nodding. “What about Kira? Did you ever hear from her again?”

“Yeah. Kira came back to help with a few skinwalker adjacent problems. She’s in a really good place. I think she’s found her calling.”

Lydia nods. “But she decided not to stay?”

Scott shrugs. “I think being single for a while has been food for me, though. It’s … shocking how much you get done when you don’t have a girlfriend.”

She laughs, before shaking her head. “Well, hopefully, it will do wonders for my thesis. I think having some time to focus on me could be good.”

“Well, Beacon Hills is so quiet these days, I’m pretty sure you’ll get your wish.”

“I hope so. Speaking of, I should get back to it.” She finishes up her food and goes to reach for her wallet. “How much do I owe you for … ?”

“Nothing. My treat.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He smiles that dopey smile at her again and rests a hand on her arm gently. “It’s nice to have you back, Lydia.”

She’s pretty sure that Scott’s the only person who would ever think that, at least in Beacon Hills.

- - - - - -

It’s three months before Lydia has her first banshee incident.

She isn’t sure if it’s because she’s let her guard down in this newly peaceful Beacon Hills or because Lydia exercised such exact control in Boston, knowing that Lydia couldn’t give herself away, but one day when she’s arriving back in town from her latest trip to campus, Lydia suddenly realizes that she’s pulled off into the Preserve for no good reason. Where she comes to is somewhere around Lookout Point, and her skin is thrumming, buzzing with a scream that has yet to be released.

She doesn’t want to get out of the car. Getting out of the car means it’s real, and at the moment, that’s much more preferable than the relief that will come when she finally pushes forward. She doesn’t want to acknowledge that she might have brought something on her heels, back to a peaceful town that Lydia forced to pay so many prices for things she never requested. Still, eventually, she makes her way out of the car, following her feet down the side of the cliff to find the body in question. It’s impossibly mangled. She can barely tell if the victim was a man or a woman. The banshee doesn’t need an identifiable victim anyway. She screams for the dead – no exceptions.

When the scream is finally torn from her throat, echoing off the trees and into the darkness of the preserve, the last of her resolve is gone, and she charges back towards her car, doubling over and retching from the disgust. She used to have a tolerance for these things, she remembers. That tolerance is something that fades over time.

When her stomach is empty, and she looks up again, Scott is there, peering over the edge of the cliff to see the body in question. She turns to face him one hand, brushing at the corner of her mouth and sighs.

“What was that you said about things being pretty quiet?”

Scott glances back at her grimly, but he doesn’t say anything to contradict her.

- - - - - -

It’s shockingly easy to get back into case mode

Parrish and the Sheriff tell them to stay out of it, and they’ll let them know if they come across anything supernatural, they’ll let them know, but Lydia can’t make this newly found body sit not when she might have brought it there, which is what leads her to place a very old text on top of Deaton’s work station at the clinic.

“I think it’s a real rougarou this time.” She knows that they had one that was Dread Doctors’ adjacent, but this one seems to be fully capable and doing real damage. “All the markings are consistent.” Deaton and Scott look at each other and then back at her and she can see the worry in both their faces, which puts her even more on the defensive, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “What?”

“I don’t disagree with you.” Deaton reaches out to close the book, speaking in that overly calm way of hers that always drive her a little crazy. “But the deputies are properly trained for these things now. They don’t need the pack the way they used to, and if they do, they’ll let us know.”

“So what? We’re just going to sit here and do nothing?”

“There’s nothing to do.” He frowns. “I thought you would be happy about that.”

Happy. Happy about not having to run around, throwing herself into the line of fire? Happy about not winding up in the hospital because she may be supernatural, but she can’t heal the way that werewolves and other shifters can? Happy about not having the nightmares that came with her high school years in Beacon Hills?

She should be. She’s not.

Her mouth draws to one side, nodding as she reaches forward to close the textbook and pull it back to her chest. “Right. Of course. Sorry, I didn’t mean to waste your time.” She turns on her heel before either of them could say a word, turning to head back to her car. She’s at the driver’s side door when she hears the smack of the door slamming closed.

“Lydia!”

She doesn’t want to turn around, but she does, turning to face Scott. “I’m sorry. I keep forgetting. I don’t know how things work here anymore.”

“That’s not what’s bothering you.”

Stupid werewolves. Stupid chemosignals. “I’m fine, Scott. Really.”

“Lydia.”

He stares into her like he can see right through her – he always has. He takes another step forward, resting one hand on her arm, and some of her armor crumbles. One hand comes up to cover her eyes before she looks up at him again.

“What if it came here because I did? What if I brought this with me?”

Scott gives her arm a light squeeze. “Why don’t we go get a drink?”

Lydia thinks that sounds like an excellent idea.

Prompts Written: 100/100Total Word Count: 124,261 words

no subject

i don't need to fight to prove i'm right ~ new york wolves ~ 937 words

machines to save our lives ~ spamalot ~ 1,277 words

light no candle for my sake ~ regency au ~ 839 words

don't freak out, don't strike out ~ spamalot ~ 586 words

no subject

this whole world shines so brightly | dceu/mcu | 1,254 words

a tale that's rather grim and gory | the originals | 621 words

no subject

i'll never look behind me | charmed | 698 words

no subject

won't you stop and remember me ~ the flash ~ 553 words

no subject

i've lost heaven to hell ~ beyond the rift ~ 843 words

for tifa

seasons change with the scenery ~ knights of legend ~ 1598

for kayla

what's your price for flight ~ dctv ~ 1,139

for katie

in the late night establishments | tvdverse/white collar | 866 words

for jade

i'm lonely but you can save me ~ tvdverse ~ 1652

for ella

its aces i feel so shut up and deal ~ tvdverse/white collar ~ 600

no subject

i'll settle for the beach | spamalot | 767 words

for jenna

like a shooting star you're flying ~ dctv ~ 586

no subject

and these are things i can't ignore ~ from dusk til dawn/wynonna earp ~ 600

no subject

and this present will be past ~ teleios ~ 2,475

no subject

no subject

no subject

sing it loud so i can hear you ~ tvdverse/wynonna earp ~ 3,342 ~ part 1

no subject

for this will be a labor of my love ~ riftverse, pacific rim au ~ 2,593

no subject

what a lovely way to burn ~ potus ~ 1,329

for me }

you are the bearer of unconditional things ~ teen wolf ~ 3,967 ~ part 1

Prompts Written: 100/100
Total Word Count: 124,261 words