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roadrunnermuses2013-08-02 05:25 pm
iluvroadrunner6) wrote in roadrunnermuses2013-08-02 05:25 pm
Entry tags:
requests } { because these actually do help me sometimes
The rules are simple. I have a calendar of sorts. Each day has a word. A 100-200 word drabble will be written for that word on that day. If you would like to claim a specific pairing or combo for that particular word, feel free to comment below and tell me, and I will add it to my list.
Given how little I've actually written this year, I'm hoping to actually get this done. We'll see what happens, but these are set for September 2013.
They don't have to be characters I actively write for, they can just be for anything in fandoms you know I know. I will note all claimed prompts in this general area, I'm just too lazy to make a set up right now. GO! Prompt! Win!
Word Count:
Given how little I've actually written this year, I'm hoping to actually get this done. We'll see what happens, but these are set for September 2013.
They don't have to be characters I actively write for, they can just be for anything in fandoms you know I know. I will note all claimed prompts in this general area, I'm just too lazy to make a set up right now. GO! Prompt! Win!
01. Stefan/Bo ~ for
02. Dean & Diana ~ for
03. Bela/Lana ~ for
04. Stiles/Cora ~ for
05. Steve/Peggy ~ for
06. Neal & Anna ~ for
07. Stefan/Rebekah ~ for
08. Flack/Angell ~ for
09. Tess & Elektra ~ for
10. Alek & Ava ~ for
11. Max/Dean ~ for
12. Don Flack ~ for
13. Kol/Bonnie ~ for
14. Bo/Tyler ~ for
15. Tyler/Caroline ~ for
16. Piper & Christopher ~ for
17. Cassie & Cas ~ for
18. Sam/Allison ~ for
19. Alec McDowell ~ for
20. Charlie & Dylan ~ for
21. Maxwell & Lois ~ for
22. Dean/Christine ~ for
23. Cora Hale ~ for
24. Melinda & Penny ~ for
25. Isaac/Caroline ~ for
26. Dean & Tony ~ for
27. Anna/Neal ~ for
28. Cordelia & Elena ~ for
29. Kara/Lana ~ for
30. Stefan/Cordelia ~ for
you don't have to do all of these if somebody else wants these particular numbers
14 - Bo/Tyler
18 - Sam/Allison
25 - Isaac/Caroline
ecophobia ~ post-beyond the rift ~ 890 words
There hadn’t been one in the previous one. Stefan had looked one night, when he was trying to figure out just how different these two universes were. It was a startling realization then, to know that a place that had caused so much pain for his friends, his family, himself, simply never existed here. There was no Founding Families, on Original Family, none of the magic that had scarred the land and turned it from a place that could have been beautiful to a place that people flee from.
(Instead, people fled from Chicago, while Stefan spent weeks reveling in the fear and excitement that a city like that had to offer. He became one of the things they flee from and he enjoyed every moment of it.)
It’s equally startling to find it again. It’s sometime in the forties, and they’re passing through Virginia on the way to Washington DC and he sees it on one of the signs.
It’s funny to think how two little words can come to mean so much. This Mystic Falls is not his home, nor Rebekah’s. It’s not the place where they were both turned into monsters. But it is still a place that calls to him with a morbid kind of curiosity, an unnamed pull that tells him that he should go, see for himself. Maybe that’s how all those vampires and werewolves wound up in Mystic Falls in the first place. There was something about that sign that told them to go.
He doesn’t mention it to her until they arrive at the hotel that night, sitting at the bar as they keep an eye out for dinner. After his year in Chicago, he’s not interested in going back to animal blood again, especially knowing that anything can happen. But he’s at least managing drinking human blood a little better than he used to. That doesn’t stop the discomfort that comes with feeding off people directly. Blood bags at least had a way of guaranteeing that no one was going to die.
(Snatch, eat and erase has never truly come easily to him, but he’s learning to deal with it, even without Damon here to teach him.)
“There’s a Mystic Falls in this universe.” He keeps his voice calm, as though he’s nearly been practicing it since he found out existed. “Maybe about an hour from here.”
“Is there?” Her voice is cool, acting like she doesn’t care, but he can tell she does by the way she looks away, scanning the faces of their potential victims. “How nice for it.”
His eyebrows go up a bit as he takes another sip of his drink. “You’re not at all curious?”
“Why would I?” She flashes a look back at him. “Why would I want to go back to the place where my parents killed me? Where my mother died?” Killed by her brother out of rage for being cursed.
“Because it’s your home.”
“You say that as though I’ve had one.” She picks up her drink from the bar, taking a long sip. “Even if I did, it isn’t this one. This isn’t our Mystic Falls, Stefan. Even if this place did have a Stefan Salvatore and a Rebekah Mikaelson, what would we do if we ran into them there?” Stefan glances away at that and her eyebrows go up. “That’s what you’re hoping, isn’t it? That there are other versions of us. What, are you hoping in another fifty or sixty years there’s going to be another version of Elena running around?”
Stefan’s lips purse at that, glancing back towards the room. It’s not Elena he’s missing. It’s not Elena that this world feels unbalanced without. He doesn’t have to say anything either – he and Rebekah have been together long enough at this point that she could read him even better than she could in the twenties.
“You’re hoping for another Damon.” Her tone is softer, mostly because he knows that she misses her brothers just as much as he misses his, and she’s had longer to miss them. She swallows a bit, before signaling the bartender to refill her drink. “There are no vampires here, Stefan. At least, none that we’ve seen. If Damon was here, he’s long dead.”
“He could have had a family,” he whispers softly. “I know … I know it’s probably nothing. At the same time, there’s a part of me that needs to know.”
To see the world that they could have had, if Katherine hadn’t entered their lives. To see if they even existed at all.
Rebekah glances to him uncomfortably for a moment before deciding to let the subject drop. It isn’t a yes and it isn’t a no, but a silent request for time to adjust to the idea. To going back to that place and all it means to both of them.
“I was thinking the banker tonight.”
The one who treated her like a coat girl when they were on their way into the bar and had been eying her salaciously ever since. As far as Stefan is concerned, he has no complaints.
“Sounds good to me.” He pushes off the stool and extends a hand to her. “Shall we?”
She smiles as she takes his hand. “We shall.”
meraki ~ the vampire diaries/lost girl ~ 856 words
Bo comes home to find Tyler sketching away, the sketchpad balanced on one knee as he sits on the couch. At first she’s surprised – she didn’t know he could draw. She wheels her way around the couch, before leaning over his shoulder, and then she was surprised again.
“You’re good.”
He glances back at her with a grin before shrugging. “I’m a little rusty. But I kind of … got the urge today.”
“Rusty or not, still good.” She takes one glance at it before turning and heading back over to the kitchen. “Who is she?”
“My mom,” he says softly, leaning the pad back a bit as he does. “She’s been on my mind lately. I miss her.”
Bo pours herself a cup of coffee before making her way back again, perching on the arm of the couch behind him. “That’s natural. I’m sure wherever she is, she misses you too.”
Tyler watches the drawing for a moment before nodding and flipping the page to a blank one. “Yeah, she probably does.”
She gives his shoulder a squeeze, before reaching for the phone, thinking nothing of it. “I’m gonna order a pizza. You hungry?”
“Yeah. Sounds good.”
***
A few days later, Bo’s out on a job when she gets a panicked call from Kenzi telling her to come home like yesterday. Thinking that it’s probably someone out for revenge (because that’s Bo’s life at this point), she and Tamsin book it back home, trying to get there before someone (namely Kenzi, Tyler can take a lot) gets hurt. What they find when they get there is not what they were expecting.
The walls of their house are covered in drawings. People, creatures, places, everything you can possibly think of, one after the other. In the middle of it all, are Tyler and Kenzi, both looking fairly panicked.
“I can’t stop,” he spits out, hand still drawing as he does. “I’ve been trying for hours and I just … keep going.”
Both Fae blink at him in confusion. “Did you touch something? Did you meet anyone new?”
“I – I don’t know.” Tyler’s clearly freaking out and Bo can catch Tamsin rolling her eyes in her peripheral vision.
“Alright, slow down vamppuppy.” She steps forward, grabbing Tyler by the chin and meeting her eyes. “Let’s see what’s wrong with you.” She holds his gaze intensely for a moment, before his shoulders relax and she shrugs. “Oh, he’ll be fine.”
“You know how to stop it?”
“No, but I know what it is. He ran into a muse.”
“What?” Bo frowns. “Like the Morrigan?”
“Evony is Leanan Sidhe. They feed on inspiration and turns it into insanity. Muses just feed on inspiration. They keep the artist going for as long as they can until they wear themselves out. Since Tyler’s kind of indestructible, we just have to wait for the muse to get bored.”
Bo and Tyler just blink at her for a moment. “That’s your plan?” Bo doesn’t approve. “And what happens in the meantime, Tyler just draws his hand off?”
Tamsin shrugs. “Unless you want to go find the muse?” Bo stares at her, with her eyebrows raising and Tamsin makes a face. “Really?” Bo’s look intensifies. “Fine, we’ll go, but muses are finicky. You might not be able to convince her.”
Bo is already turning on her heel and heading out the door, Kenzi right behind her. “Coming?”
Tamsin sighs, before shaking her head. “Alright, sure, not like I have anything better to do.”
***
A few hours and one beat up muse later, Tyler has use of his hands again and they’re at the Dal to celebrate. The beers are on Tyler, and Tamsin and Kenzi have wandered off to shoot pool while the two of them drink to Tyler not being forced to draw everything he sees.
“I owe you one. Again.”
She shrugs as she takes a sip of her beer. “It’s what friends do.”
“Still. Thank you.” He pauses before reaching into his jacket and pulling out a folded piece of paper. “I told Kenzi she could burn most of the other ones but … ” He slides the paper across the table to her. “ … I thought you two might like this one.”
Bo pauses, before unfolding the piece of paper. In it was a sketch of Bo and Kenzi sitting on their couch, just taking advantage of a moment of quiet to sit and watch TV. She can’t help the smile that crosses her face, and she nods.
“This is lovely, Tyler. Thank you.” She folds it up and slips it into her jacket pocket. “Consider it one less you owe me.”
He laughs a bit. “You sure? One crappy drawing in exchange for bailing my ass out?”
“I consider it an investment in a budding artist,” she grins. “Besides, I also consider it an ass worth bailing.”
“Fair enough,” he nods, clinking his glass against hers, before nodding back towards the pool table. “I’m gonna go watch Kenzi school Tamsin in pool.”
“Tell her I said good luck.”
“You got it.”
fanaa ~ supernatural/teen wolf ~ 1638 words
It isn’t until the arrow hits the door frame next to him that he snaps to attention, one hand pushing the hair out of his eyes while searching for the sign of the threat. He could hear the tension of the bow being drawn again, but it’s the voice to his left that is far too familiar for his tastes.
“Sam?”
His head snaps in the direction of the voice he hasn’t heard in nearly ten years, and the expression in his face is a mix of confusion and surprise, but it’s definitely happy. (It feels strange, after everything he’s lost, but he still knows happiness when he feels it.)
“Lydia?”
The redhead is standing over his brother shotgun aimed at his back, looking at Sam like he’s something that shouldn’t be there – an unexpected variable in whatever math problem she’s trying to solve. His brother starts to move, reaching his hand up on the direction of the gun, and she cocks it without even looking, the slide moving against the barrel with a dry crack.
“Don’t even think about it,” she quips, before readdressing Sam again. “What are you doing here?”
“I … live here,” Sam repeats lamely. “What are you doing here?”
“We’re here for the research.” The second voice comes in the direction the arrow came in, and his eyes follow the trajectory back to its source. The dark haired huntress gives him a small soft smile before nodding. “Hi, Sam.”
“Hey, Allison.”
There’s a beat of silence, before Dean’s voice comes from his right again. “While I’m sure this is a really touching reunion, can I get off the floor now?”
“I don’t know,” Lydia fires back as she withdraws the shotgun, taking a step back towards the tables. “Can you?”
Dean rolls onto his back as Sam moves closer, extending a hand to help him up, and he grins lazily at his brother. “I like her already.”
“Dude, you are in way over your head,” Sam sighs, before glancing back to Allison. He hasn’t seen her in years, not since Stanford, and in that time they’ve both gotten older, but in a lot of ways they’re still the same, still holding on to those pieces that made them who they are. When he looks at her, he can almost feel like the dumbass nineteen year-old he was when he left her.
It’s probably the smartest decision he’s ever made.
“This is my brother, Dean. Dean, this is Allison and Lydia – they’re old friends from Stanford.” He ignores the look on his brother’s face that clearly says you knew hunters at Stanford and didn’t say shit?, and moves on. “Why doesn’t Dean make breakfast, and the we can see if we can help you with that research?” he suggests, and Lydia shrugs, already wandering towards one area of the bunker’s archives to browse. Allison lowers the bow before nodding.
“Still can’t cook at all, can you?”
He grins, before shaking his head. “Not even a little.”
***
After breakfast, Dean wanders off with Lydia to track down the information on the monster she and Allison are hunting while Sam and Allison are left to catch up. It’s a slow process, as neither one of them seems to know where to start, but eventually Sam manages to find the words as they wander through the stacks.
“So how did you know about this place anyway? The guy I got the key from made it seem like it was some heavily guarded secret.”
“Gerard was a Man of Letters,” she replies simply, and he leaves it where it is. He knows Allison’s relationship with her grandfather wasn’t at it’s best when he knew her, and having met the guy, he can only hope that things have stayed that way. “He … didn’t really jive with their ideals so they kicked him out, but it wasn’t before he learned where everything was. He passed the information down to my dad, and dad told me when I was having trouble finding the research.”
Sam nods a bit, swallowing his fingers continue trailing over the books. “And Lydia’s hunting with you, now? I thought she was going to win a Fields’ medal or something.”
“Oh, she will. She likes to multitask and she speaks Latin better than I do. It’s … good to have her around.” He can feel her watching him as she talks, eyeing him with no small measure of curiosity. “So where have you been, by the way? You’ve been pretty much off the grid since … ” Her voice trails off and he looks up at her with a small, weak smile.
“Since Jess.” He nods. “I’ve … been around. The first couple years were pretty bad but things seem to be evening out.” A beat. “Kind of.”
“Define pretty bad.”
Sam takes a deep breath before turning to face her. “Did you hear about the demon release back in oh-seven.”
“Yeah, someone opened a gate to Hell. Or at least that was the rumor.” She pauses, and looks back at him with wide eyes. “You were there?”
He nods. “And that big giant beam of light in the sky near Baltimore in oh-nine? That was me too. And the cold spots in Detroit, and the weird shift in creatures back in 2010? Because of something I did.”
Allison digests all of this, before looking up on him with wide eyes. “Do I need to know why all of this was?”
Sam lets out a bitter sound that could have been a laugh before shaking his head. “No. You don’t.”
“That wasn’t really a question, Sam,” she crosses her arms in front of her chest as she takes another step closer to him. “You dump me because you don’t want hunting in your life anymore, and ten years later I find you elbow deep in the middle of some pretty serious crap? I think I deserve the right to know what changed.”
“Nothing,” he replies, turning back to face her again. “Nothing changed.” Hunting has always been about revenge and survival and … drowning in it until it swallows you whole, but the only difference is this time he let himself drown. This time, he wasn’t fighting and trying to claw his way to the surface so that he could get away from it all. “I just stopped trying to fight it.”
“And you don’t have to fight it alone.”
“Allison, everyone I’ve ever cared about is dead.” The words are simple and cold and he hates the way he has to say them but it’s the only way he knows to drive the point home. “Everyone. Except for Dean and that really isn’t saying anything.” He pauses. “And except for you. You were involved with a Winchester and you got out clean, which honestly, is a miracle. So hunter or not, I’m not going to drag you into this if I don’t have to.”
“You don’t get to make that choice,” she replies simply, reaching past him to grab one of the books they need before turning on her heel. “But since I haven’t seen you in ten years, I’m definitely not going to run off and get myself killed for you.” The way she says it makes it sound like she’s teasing him, but he can tell she’s serious. And there’s no disguising the relief that slumps through his shoulders as she speaks. He’s lost too many people to bother to try and cover it now.
However, she stops before she gets too far, turning back to face him and jabbing the corner of the book into his chest. “But that also doesn’t mean I’m going to let you get yourself killed either. So if you need the help … ” She lets the sentence trail off, eyes focused on his and he stays quiet for a long time, fighting the inevitable we won’t that should come out.
He lies instead.
“We will,” he nods, getting to be a better and better liar the longer he does it. “I promise.”
“Good.” She turns with a bit of a bounce to herself, before making her way back down the aisle again. “Come on. We should see if Lydia has crushed your brother’s ego completely yet.”
Sam smirks a bit, a little too much fondness creeping into his features, so a part of him is glad she can’t see it. “I hope not. I want to watch.”
***
Six months later, he just fell short of completing the trials (just short of dying – again), Heaven is in shambles, and Sam looks like shit warmed over. Dean needs to find Castiel, it’s all he can think about, and Sam is in no shape to start a nationwide manhunt for an angel who may not even be an angel anymore.
So they compromise. He finds Allison’s number off the card she wrote it on before she left (he planned to throw it out, planned to pretend that she was never there), and he calls, holed up in the bunker where he knows it’s safe and he can at least count on nothing inside it trying to kill him. Now he just had to make sure there isn’t something inside him.
The phone rings twice before she answers. “Hello?”
“Hey,” he says softly, making a very valiant effort not to sound as bad as he feels. “I need help.”
metanoia ~ teen wolf/the vampire diaries ~ 698 words
That was a thing.
Caroline sneaks her way back to her room at the Stilinskis after, trying to calm down and try to sort her thoughts back into order. It’s not that she doesn’t like Isaac or even feel for him in that way. She just started out trying to help him, and now, all of the sudden, she took things too far. Like the way she took things too far with Tyler, only this time she doesn’t have Matt as an excuse. She doesn’t have her relationship with his best friend as a shadow to hide behind.
(Mostly because his best friend was in love with another girl. If Scott actually counts. … She doesn’t even know who his best friend is. Reason #753 why last night was a bad idea.
Even if it wasn’t in the ways where it actually counted.)
She doesn’t even have the chance to change out of her walk of shame attire when Stiles is already at the bedroom door, arms crossed in front of his chest and looking peeved. She’s gotten used to that look from him, ever since she moved into the guest bedroom, an annoyed, peeved off look seemed to cross his face when she talked to any of his friends, or helped with werewolf stuff, or just generally reminded him that she was stronger and better and faster and not the Caroline who only cared about extracurricular activities and shoes and boys. Usually they only last for a minute, because even he can see that she’s better this way, but this seems to last longer than that.
So long, in fact, that she manages to undo the straps of her shoes and grab her robe to go shower and he’s still standing there, blocking her way. “What, Stiles?”
“Scott called.”
Damn werewolf hearing. It’s written all over her face too, which only makes Stiles’s peeved face stand out even more.
“Isaac. You slept with Isaac.”
“You make it sound like he’s not a hot, athletic, member of the lacrosse team who could actually be attractive to the female gender. Isaac must think you’re a real friend.”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” Stiles grits his teeth before taking a step forward into the room and shutting the door behind him. “He’s not one of those guys that you can play your usual games with, Caroline.”
“My usual games?” Caroline is liking this conversation less and less as they go on. “Wow. Guess I was wrong about thinking we were friends too.” She gives his shoulder a bit of a push – she’s a vampire and he weighs a hundred pounds soaking wet, it doesn’t really take much – before trying to push her way past him to the bathroom. “Get out of my way.”
“No, listen!” He grabs her arm and turns her to face him again. “Isaac and I aren’t exactly what you call close, but he’s been through a lot. And he’s part of Scott’s pack which means I need to look out for him.”
“And you think I’m going to hurt him? Why is it so hard for you to believe that I would be actually interested in him? That I might care about him as more than a friend.”
“Do you?”
There’s a pause as she tries to sort out the answer to that particular question and Stiles gives her a look. “Not supposed to be a stumper, Care.”
“I don’t know!” She huffs a bit as she turns to face him. “I don’t know what I feel. I just know I don’t feel nothing, so if you could give me some space to figure that out, and keep your nose out of my sex life, I would appreciate it.”
Stiles lips press into a thin line, before he shakes his head and lets her go. “Just … don’t hurt him, okay?”
Caroline can’t even say she would never. Because she’s hurt Matt, she’s hurt her mom. Hurting people is kind of what she does these days. But she can at least say this much:
“I don’t want to.”
She hates that that is the best she can do.