40 fandoms in 40 days' Journal|
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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
40 fandoms in 40 days' LiveJournal:
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|Monday, March 28th, 2016|
Fandoms 36 - 40
: 409[Spoiler (click to open)]“Every day at this damn prison is a mess”, Carla poured the coffee from the machine before it could disappear or move across the room or even multiply.
“I guess that’s why they pay so much more than at other prisons”, Aiden had already taken his coffee and biscuits and was standing in the centre of the room. No more leaning against walls for him after the last time.
“Still not sure it’s worth it”, Carla scurried away from the coffee machine, grateful to have gotten her caffeine fix without issue this time, “Some of the stuff we have to deal with is seriously weird”.
“We did get a nice bonus last month though”, Aiden side stepped to avoid the table that slid across the room and then raised his coffee cup in greeting to Malcolm, their head of security.
“You two are needed down at the far end of C block”, Malcolm wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve, “I can’t keep up anymore, I need water and to sit down for just five friggin’ minutes”.
“What’s happened now?”, Carla decided that two whole sips of coffee was an improvement on her usual day and put her cup down on the table, which promptly vanished and sent the cup clattering to the floor, “God dammit”.
“The walls keep disappearing and reappearing”, Malcolm sat down heavily, “Which is fine, no-one can get out. We somehow managed to stop the perimeter walls from doing that, they haven’t gone of the fritz for months now. But the ones in the showers are doing it as well and some of the inmates are enjoying running around outside with just a towel far too much.”
Carla looked at her coffee, trickling across the staff room floor and wished she’d drank more of it. The precious two sips suddenly didn’t seem enough to bolster her for rounding up half-naked prisoners. Malcolm’s walky-talky crackled and he lifted it with the look of a man at the end of his tether. He listened and then settled his eyes back on Carla and Aiden.
“All the walls are back”
“So what’s that look for?”, Aiden asked, pointing at Malcolm’s face.
“All the toilets have been replaced with bookcases and there are no doors”, Malcolm threw a bundle of keys to Carla, “The drills and hammers are on the left hand side of the storage cupboard - if that damn place hasn’t disappeared too.”Fandom:
250[Spoiler (click to open)]The sun had risen, the newspaper had arrived, the coffee was terrible, and yet Ethan knew something wasn’t right. He couldn’t place it - it was like a soft edge to his brain that he couldn’t quite get a fix on, an outline that had started to fade with age.
He turned the pages of the newspaper, not sure what he hoped to find. Part of him was hoping that something would leap off the page at him, signaling beyond all doubt that this was what had happened to him. He had thought about calling in sick to work, but what would he have said? So instead he gathered up his things and left the house like every other day.
He dropped his keys trying to push them into the lock - he said every morning that he needed to get his lock changed but he never remembered - and as he bent to pick them up the feeling in his mind pulsed. He stood up abruptly and tried to grab hold of the thought. It was like those moments where you were trying to recall an actor’s name or something, where it was just on the very edge of your thoughts, just out of reach.
Ethan dropped his keys again and tried to force the thought to drift back into reach, but it didn’t work. He sighed as he picked up the keys and finally locked his front door. Whatever it was he had forgotten was going to bother him all day.Fandom:
Left 4 DeadRating:
: 370[Spoiler (click to open)]Zoey rubbed her eyes and pressed her face back against the bars over the window. She heard the old man, the war veteran, talking but it was like he was in another room and she couldn’t understand what he was saying. She squinted into the night until a hand on her shoulder yanked her back.
“You damn well gonna get your face clawed doing that”, the old man grumbled, “Heads might not fit through but fingers will”. Zoey mumbled an apology and slunk back to sit by the table. She watched the other two men. The IT guy was just staring into space, muttering to himself. He had that look - the one she had seen reflected back at her when she’d tried to clean off the blood. Her father’s blood. She wondered who he had been forced to kill.
“We gonna sit around here feeling sorry for ourselves or what?”, the biker was beginning to get on her nerves. Zoey suspected he was getting on everyone’s nerves. Still…he had a point.
“You looked outside man? Seen what’s out there?”, the IT guy didn’t even look around as he spoke.
“Sure, buncha sick looking motherfuckers turning everyone else into sick looking motherfuckers. And eating people”, the biker strutted to the centre of the room. Goddammit, Zoey hated guys like him. She wanted to say something, anything to knock his ego just a bit, but all she could manage was a tired glare.
“They’re undead”, the veteran spoke, the voice of experience, “You must have seen it, people coming back from the dead. It’s like all those horror movies”. Zoey almost laughed, but caught herself at the last moment. She’s always loved horror movies. Didn’t mean she wanted to be in one though.
“And what are we gonna do? Sit around and wait until we join them?”, the biker was loud, and brash, and so fucking annoying…but he was right. Which is why, when he held out a handgun and said,
“So who’s with me?”, Zoey pulled herself to her feet and took the gun from his hand. He smirked at her and nodded his head. Zoey just shrugged,
“Well, it’s a damn sight better than waiting here to die”Fandom:
Resident Evil/Left 4 Dead/Dead IslandRating:
: 351[Spoiler (click to open)]
“Your zombies run?”, Jill lay her shotgun down on the table, then saw the way Francis was looking at it and promptly picked it back up.
“Ours too”, Purna called from where she was patching up a cut on Sam B’s leg. Jill raised her eyebrows at her partner Chris,
“So our zombies are the anomaly here?”
“By the sounds of it yeah”, Zoey appeared at her side and Jill automatically put one hand on her pistol. Too many zombies and not enough weapons made you a bit protective of your guns, “What do yours do then?”
“They kind of just lumber towards you”, Chris shrugged, “They soak up ammo though, empty a clip into them and they still come at you”.
“We’ve got some weird mutations as well”, Francis interjected into the conversation, “Big fat ones that puke on you, ones that catch you with their tongue…”
“Tongue?”, Jill thought of the Lickers that had been crawling all over the Police Station in Raccoon City and shuddered, “Yeah…we’ve met some of those”.
“Okay, we’ve had mutations too”, Sam B was looking better now, but then Purna had just poured a handful of painkillers into his mouth rather than reading the label so that probably had something to do with it, “Some of the infected are huge - way bigger than me and I’m a big guy”.
“Maybe our slow ones are the original form?”, Chris suggested, “And then they mutate, some start running, others lose all their skin and grow really long tongues…”
“Wait…I thought the T-Virus and all the other strands were causing both the zombies and the mutations”, Jill cut him off, her head was starting to hurt trying to keep all those this straight, “How’s it already spread to the whole damn world?”
“Don’t look at me”, Chris raised his hands defensively and Jill softened her voice,
“Sorry…I just thought this was more contained than it was”, she massaged her temple, “Right, so the whole world…”
“…has gone to shit”, Francis supplied and Jill could only nod in agreement,
“We’re gonna need more guns…”Fandom:
193[Spoiler (click to open)]Nuna didn’t mean to cry when Fox left her. She knew that he would have to go eventually, but when they were chasing down the source of the winds it seemed so far away. Even when Fox died - his body died - and his spirit manifest in a new form, Nuna didn’t think about the fact that he would have to leave her.
She looked up into the night’s sky, tried to find some trace of Fox between the stars. There was nothing. Why did he have to go?
Her tears felt like they were freezing on her cheeks, and her face stung when she tried to brush them away. She tried to blink back any more that might threaten her but it was no use. What could she do but cry now that her best friend was gone.
Her grandfathers voice called her from the village, it was time for everyone to sit around and listen to the stories before going to sleep. Nuna sighed and trudged back towards her village. Perhaps one of the stories would explain why Fox had to go.
Perhaps one would tell her how to bring him back.
|Sunday, March 27th, 2016|
Fandoms 31 - 35
311[Spoiler (click to open)]“That sounds much more efficient than our time traveling experiences”, Pete dropped his bag onto the floor and folded his arms across his chest, “So you just walk through these portals and boom, you’re in the past”.
“Or future, pretty much”, Connor said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, “I mean, it sounds good and everything but we don’t get much say over when they open. They just sort of appear”.
“And monsters come out of them, don’t forget that little detail eh Con?”, Abbey called from where she was perched on the table at the edge of the room, but Connor and Pete were already focused on whatever Conner had on his phone. Whatever it was, Abbey was fairly certain he wasn’t supposed to have it.
“They are a terrible pairing”, Myka commented, “I am getting a migraine just thinking about the chaos those two could cause together”, and she did actually look quite pale.
“I take it you haven’t come across many dinosaurs then?”, Abbey asked.
“No..the things that try to kill us tend to either be of the inanimate object variety or the people trying to get said inanimate objects”, Myka sat up on the table beside Abbey.
“Well, you know how there’s all those stories about these artifacts or items that gave people special abilities. Or just items that were really important to people in history?”, Abbey nodded as Myka spoke, “Turns out most of them tend to be quite real and very dangerous”.
“More dangerous than dinosaurs?”
“We once destroyed a pair of superhero underpants that were causing the entire planet and everything on it to implode - eventually it would have destroyed the universe”, and Abbey wanted to laugh but Myka looked so serious as she said it that it would have been rude.
“I thought my job was interesting”Fandom:
Malory Towers/Teen WolfRating:
337[Spoiler (click to open)]“Who’s your friend?”, Mary Lou practically leapt out of her skin as Alicia appeared from nowhere. Of course Alicia had followed her, and of course she had seen Mary Lou talking to Allison. What could possibly happen at Malory Towers that Alicia Johns didn’t know about. Still, Mary Lou was rather grateful that it was Alicia and not Gwendoline that had followed her.
“What’s she doing here?”, Alicia had stepped in front of her and stopped, forcing Mary Lou to do the same.
“She works in town”, it was an awful lie and they both knew it.
“Must be nice, to not go to school.”
“She’s taking a year off before university”, Mary Lou walked around Alicia but the other girl caught her arm with her hand and stopped her from going far, “What does it matter? I’m sure you have friends outside of school”.
“She doesn’t seem like your type of friend is all”, and Mary Lou wanted to demand to know what Alicia meant by that. Except that was exactly what Alicia wanted, for Mary Lou to get annoyed and accidentally give something away.
“What were you two whispering about? You looked awfully worried about something”, Alicia was scanning her face now with those piercing eyes, desperate to learn something.
Mary Lou’s mind flickered with Allison’s news - that there were two warring packs, both with young and impulsive Alphas, hunting down teenagers to turn into Betas for their packs. She thought of Allison’s warning - that the packs had turned their attention to this part of the country. She thought of Allison’s advice, that she take up her crossbow and get practicing for the inevitable. She looked back at Alicia and hoped that none of that had crossed over her face.
“Oh, mostly just girl things”, and she gently pushed Alicia to one side and walked back towards Malory Towers. How she was supposed to get out and retrieve her crossbow from its hiding place with Alicia watching her every move she did not know…Fandom:
Cold Case/Warehouse 13Rating
: PGWord Count:
404[Spoiler (click to open)]“Just…trust me on this”, Myka was well aware just how much she was reinforcing the shadowy government agency stereotype, and she did wonder whether Detective Lilly Rush looked at all government agents the same way she was looking at Myka.
She suddenly felt quite sorry for the FBI.
“You seriously expect me to believe that my suspect is the H.G. Wells who has been dead for over half a century?”
“Not dead, frozen”, and Myka quickly covered her own lips with her forefinger because they had already gone over this and Lilly was looking more and more irate each time they did,
“In bronze, yes. I got that bit the third time you said it. It doesn’t, however, make it any less ridiculous”, Lilly looked like she wanted to throw something, and Myka was quite grateful for the lack of throwable objects in the room. Unless she counted herself. She was potentially throwable - out of the nearest windows based on Lilly’s expression.
Lilly sighed and rubbed her temple before she spoke again, “but you’re telling me H.G. didn’t kill my victim?”
“No, Pete and I were like five seconds behind her when she found him, there’s no way she could have done it”.
“This crime happened in nineteen seventy-five, if you were older than a toddler I would be very surprised”, and Myka was sure that was a compliment but this was not the time or the place, and a look of complete disbelief dawned over Lilly, “You are not about to tell me time travel exists”.
“It’s more common than you might think…”, Myka didn’t know how much more the detective would tolerate before just slapping handcuffs on her so she quickly moved on, “What if I show you, then help you solve the crime?”, and all at once Lilly froze. She eyed Myka, her eyes still narrow, still suspicious, so Myka pushed on,
“You must have another case as well, one that you’ve never been able to solve?”, Myka opened the door and waited for Lilly, “Get that file too and we’ll go and solve that one too”. That was enough. The look that passed over Lilly’s eyes was haunting, and Myka knew she had her convinced. With a nod of her head, Lilly began to follow her.
“If you’re messing with me…”
“After all the things I’ve seen, let me tell you”, Myka sighed, “I really wish I was…” Fandom:
X + Y/The A Word Rating:
12 Wo rd Count:
33[Spoiler (click to open)]Luke scowled at the kid beside him. That was him a decade ago, so innocent and wraped up in himself that he didn’t even notice how bloody out of place he was. The kid’s parents were talking to the doctor and the other man, probably the grandad, was supposed to be watching him but he had wandered off.
If they had just left the kid’s headphones with him perhaps Luke wouldn’t have to listen to him singing.
He hoped the doctor called him soon so he could get this stupid session out of the way. Make more promises not to hurt himself again, and listen to yet another person tell him how wonderful his diagnosis was. He wondered about the kid next to him, if his parents had told him that he was autistic yet.
Luke felt sorry for him for a moment, knowing what he was going to go through as he got older. What he was going to have to put up with from other people, from himself… He must have been staring because the kid looked up at him and spoke,
“Another girl, another planet. The Only Ones. Nineteen seventy eight”, and he stared at Luke with big, blue eyes that make Luke feel uneasy.
“Don’t know it”, Luke mumbled, and he looked away. Traced the patterns on the floor with his eyes.
“I know lots of songs. I can sing one you know”
“I don’t want you to sing any songs for me”, and Luke knew he was being petulant, but he didn’t want to be here and he certainly didn’t want to be making conversation with some kid.
“I like music. It makes me happy.”, the boy paused for a long time, “What makes you happy?”. Luke struggled to swallow the sudden lump in his throat - what did make him happy? Not much anymore. He seemed to have been cursed with splinter skills and special interests that only made him more and more miserable. Monty Python had failed him, and now all watching it left him with was a horrible, heavy pain in his stomach.
“Nothing makes me happy, that’s why I’m here”.
“You can ask the doctor to find something to make you happy”, the boy said. Luke didn’t know what to say to that, but it didn’t matter because a dark-haired woman rushed over,
“Joe! Where’s grandad gone?”, she knelt in front of Joe, then cast a glance at Luke and froze. Luke wondered if she could see it, that he was the same as her son.
“I’m sorry, his grandfather was meant to…”, the boy’s mum shook her head with a sigh, “thank you for sitting with him”. Luke mumbled something about it being alright or no problem because that was what people were meant to say to something like that. Then Joe and his music and singing were whisked away with his parents and Luke was alone again.
When the doctor finally called for him to come in and asked him what was wrong Luke couldn’t stop thinking about Joe’s words, and as stupid as he felt he finally said,
“I want to be happy again”.Fandom:
Within the AU of my ongoing MT/Primeval fic[Spoiler (click to open)]“You need to come through an anomaly with me”, Alicia, as usual, did not bother with a hello, or how are you, or how is that awful dinosaur bite on your shoulder healing. No, as usual she just jumped straight into whatever it was she wanted to talk about.
“I do not need to do anything with you”, Darrell groaned as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, “It’s four o’clock in the morning Alicia”.
“You get up at five anyway don’t you?”
“Yes, but that’s an hour from now. Which I could have spent sleeping. And it’s a Saturday”, Darrell slumped into the armchair and closed her eyes with the phone loosely pressed to her ear, “and it’s not just me you woke up”.
“Is the Ice Queen angry at me again?”, and Alicia must have sensed that Darrell was at her limit and about to hang up on her because her next, rushed out words were, “Wait! Can I at least tell you about the anomaly?”
“Call Betty”, Darrel groaned but, as pathetically obedient as she berated herself for being, she did not hang up.
“Non disclosure agreement, remember?”, and Darrell was about to say that Alicia had rarely done what she was told to do, why ever would she start doing so now, but there was something to Alicia’s voice - a sadness of sorts - that kept Darrell from doing so. Instead she groaned again and said,
“Fine, tell me about your precious anomaly”.
Fandoms 26 - 30
: PGWord Count:
185[Spoiler (click to open)]“You and I, Charlie, that’s all we need. Just us two”, Marion rocked from her heels to her toes and back again. Back and forth, back and forth. She might have felt sick from the movement if there wasn’t that constant cloud of confusion that seemed to only get heavier as the day got warmer and the sun rose higher.
She leant forward and peered out the door, she couldn’t see anyone. Or should she be saying anything? They weren’t human anymore, those things that were running around killing everyone. Running, walking, crawling…
“I know we need to get going Charlie, head towards that helicopter that’s taking people back to the mainland”, she whispered to her companion, “But all I’ve got is a baseball bat and that one molotov. I don’t think it will get us far?” She listened again.
“You’re right”, she sighed, “If we stay here we’ll only get eaten”. She peered out the door one final time and took a steadying breath.
“Make or break time Charlie”, and she grabbed the stuffed bear off the floor beside her and took off running.Fandom
: Dying LightRating
: 12Word Count:
300[Spoiler (click to open)]
“That the runners that we’ve lost so far?”, Tyler looked at the marks scarred into the wall in crosses, initials following each one. No-one answered him. He was used to that. He was the new kid. Runner twelve.
They all called each other by their numbers. It made it easier apparently. Tyler kinda thought it just made it easier to forget that they were all human. But he still followed their rules. Was taking some getting used to though, responding to “Twelve”.
He ran his finger tips over the crosses, counted them off in his head and smiled sadly. He tried not to wonder how they had died. In their line of work it was just as likely that they had fallen off a building as it was they were eaten alive. Neither were high on his list of ways to go.
That said, dying surrounded by adoring great grand-children was seeming less and less likely these days.
“You gonna go get a new assignment or just stand there all day?”, and that was the other thing about being the new guy. Tyler always had to go to the boss first.
Always had to accept the worst assignments first.
Sure it was meant to be a perk of being a veteran, but as Tyler couldn’t help but think that giving the crappiest jobs with the highest likelihood of getting eaten to the new guy was a sure fire way of making sure that the job didn’t get end up getting finished.
Maybe they figured that if they threw enough bodies at it, eventually it would work itself out.
Tyler stopped at the door to the boss’s room and allowed himself a wry smile. Like he had said - numbers made it easier for everyone to forget they were human.
Fandom: Rizzoli and Isles/Person of Interest
Word Count: 278[Spoiler (click to open)]
“Stop it”, Moira could sound an awful lot like a teacher when she wanted to. Not the awkward, trying to be hip ones either. The ones that didn’t care if you hated them, they were going to drag your ass through school kicking and screaming to some sort of qualification whether you wanted it or not…but Jane had gotten sidetracked by her thoughts again.
“I can’t help it.”, she glanced over her shoulder as they rounded another corner, “It doesn’t bother you?” Moira shrugged,
“Logically, I’ve always known that whenever I’m out in public someone’s watching. There’s so many CCTV cameras and surveillance systems in America”, Moira readjusted her handbag, “Not to mention all the videos people take on their phones, appearing in the backgrounds of selfies…”
“Gee, just making me feel so much better”, Jane grumbled.
“My point is, at least we know that Reese and Finch are on our side”
“Are they?”, Jane grabbed Moira’s arm, then pulled back and thought better of it and carried on walking, “We shouldn’t be talking about this here”.
“You really are becoming quite paranoid Jane”, Moira had that look on her face, the concerned one that made Jane want to roll her eyes. Except rolling her eyes prompted a completely different look to cross over Moira’s face.
“It’s just a lot of power for two people to have”, Jane said as she shoved her hands deep into her pockets and cast another wary look around. Everywhere she looked there were screens and cameras and peep holes for yet more cameras. Her chest tightened, her mind raced, her mouth went dry.
“It’s too much power for anyone to have…”Fandom:
Watch Dogs/Person of InterestRating:
223[Spoiler (click to open)]“He’s very good”, and John smirked to himself. Finch was like a kid in a toy store examining the traces and flickers of this Aiden Pearce.
“Not good enough though since we found him”, John took a seat and plucked a book from behind him from the bookcase. He didn’t care which one, there would be something interesting in it. There always was.
“It’s hardly fair to compare anyone to us”
“To you, you mean”, John corrected as he settled into the chair and glanced at the front cover of the book, ‘The History of Cricket’, and wondered whether he had been over-confident in there being something interesting in all of Finch’s books.
“Yes. I was being modest”
“I can see how long that lasted”, John cast a glance over at the older man.
“His methods are a bit unrefined but the things he does…we need to find him”, Finch suddenly straightened up, “I think we need to find him now whilst I’ve got his trail”. John shook his head and pushed the book back into the bookcase.
“Just what we need, another morally dubious vigilante”, he called over his shoulder, “Fed up of just having the one are you?”
“Just think of all the free time it will give you”, Finch called after him, and John just smiled to himself.Fandom:
The Binding of Isaac/Plants vs Zombies/MinecraftRating:
343[Spoiler (click to open)]When he awoke from the darkness, Isaac had expected more of the same. He has spawned in this basement eight hundred and nineteen times, he had seen every rendition of those godforsaken walls, be they basement, burning, or cellar. Or at least, he thought he had.
Something had changed in the basement since his last entrance into the chest. The walls seemed more pixellated, his hands and feet did too. Without a mirror he couldn’t see his face, and he would be damned if he was picking up the broken mirror. That thing had ruined more than one of his runs.
The first room didn’t strike him as unusual, as he stomped over the spiders underfoot. The second though, that stopped him in his tracks. A line of peashooters firing seeds at him from the other side of the room. Isaac ducked behind the nearest rock and listened to the relentless pounding of seeds against the walls around him. Would they ever stop?
He crawled behind the rocks until he reached the corner of the room, relieved to find a chest buried in amongst the rubble. But when he opened it he didn’t recognise the object inside. He checked his notepad, certain he had discovered everything this place had to offer. Before his very eyes, new silhouettes materialised on the paper and extra sheets were added.
Isaac looked at the creature squirming in his hands, hissing at him like some wretched cat, and then turned and flung it at the peashooters. The hissing grew louder and louder until an explosion unlike any other rocked the room. Isaac fell onto his back and hoped that the roof wouldn’t cave in, cradling his head protectively.
He got back to his feet and peered through the debris to the site where the peashooters had been. All that was left was a crater, with a note at the bottom. Isaac stumbled over and bent down to retrieve the paper, squinting in the dim light to read it.
‘All hail the Afterbirth + upgrade’
Fandoms 21 - 25
486[Spoiler (click to open)]“I can make all your problems go away”, Henry Wu stopped at the sound of a woman’s voice and turned around. He squinted into the evening’s dusk and made out the form of whoever was talking to him, she stepped forward and he frowned,
“You were at the coffee shop earlier. And the…”
“Yes, we can safely establish that I have been following you. You have a dinosaur problem”, the woman came up alongside him and carried on walking, leaving Henry to walk after her, “Or rather…a lack of dinosaur problem”.
“I don’t know what…”, and the woman brushed off what he was going to say,
“Yes you do. You work for John Hammond, you told him you could bring dinosaurs back to life and now it’s all going to shit because you can’t”, and she smirked at him, “It was a good bluff. Anyway, I can get you some dinosaurs”.
Henry kept his voice low as they neared more people, “I know he looks like an old fool but he won’t be tricked by lizards or anything stupid like that”.
“Please, when I say I can get you dinosaurs, I mean dinosaurs”, and she sounded so utterly serious that Henry had to wonder if this was some sort of ploy on behalf of Hammond to get him to break down and admit that he couldn’t do what the old man had paid him thousands so far to do. The woman rolled her eyes and dug a phone out of one of the many pockets in her trousers, fiddled with some buttons and handed it to Henry - never breaking her stride as she did.
Henry peered at the tiny screen and tried to keep pace with the woman, his eyes grew wide as he watched the video playing on the phone.
“Yes. Now you let me know what eggs you want and I’ll get them to you”, the woman stopped abruptly and placed one hand on a car parked at the side of the road.
“I can’t afford whatever you are taking”, Henry handed the phone back.
“Oh I’m not after money, I much prefer trading favours”, the woman smiled, and Henry felt the airs on his arm stand on end, his chest tighten, he felt like he had stepped into a predator’s lair unexpectedly. But what choice did he have.
“Where will I send the list?”
“Text me”, and she handed him a business card with a name and number printed on it, “We’ll talk more after”. Henry glanced at the card,
“Helen…why are you helping me?”. Helen paused, mid-way into getting into the car and smirked, more to herself than to Henry it seemed,
“You might be unable to make dinosaurs, but you have other uses”, and before Henry could think of anything to say to that, she had pulled the door shut and pulled away from the curb.Fandom:
305[Spoiler (click to open)]Pete knew that when he got older he would probably meet men like Gary. Men who would try and take advantage of him, tell him anything they thought he might want to hear at first to reel him in and then tear apart his self-confidence strip by strip. After all, teenagers like Gary grew up to be men, just like teenagers like Pete did.
He hoped that maybe, when he was older, if he did come across someone else like Gary he might stand up for himself. That maybe he wouldn’t let himself be abused…no…he mentally corrected himself because he could practically hear Jimmy telling him that it wasn’t his fault, that none of it was his fault. Pete glanced at his mobile phone and wondered for a moment about texting Jimmy, telling him that he couldn’t sleep again because he was having nightmares about what Gary had done to him.
He turned to face the wall, Jimmy had enough problems with his step-dad, and Pete wasn’t sure if this was the same step-dad that had insisted on Jimmy being send to Bullworth or if it was another new one. He wasn’t sure if it mattered since they all seemed to be the same brand of asshole. Of course Jimmy would have made time for Pete, perhaps even welcomed the distraction, but if Pete were honest with himself he didn’t want his best friend to know how weak he was.
There was that voice again, Jimmy’s voice, telling him he wasn’t weak. That this was Gary’s fault, and not Pete’s. Never Pete’s. Pete wondered what sort of man Jimmy would grow up into - a walking stereotype probably, the mouthy thug with the golden heart. Pete turned back over and reached for his phone.
Jimmy picked up on the fourth ring.Fandom:
415[Spoiler (click to open)]“You know Kate’s not like you”, Gladys hadn’t meant for it to spill out quite so abruptly, but then again she had tried to be subtle in her approach to Betty’s feelings for the other woman and that had failed so maybe the alcohol that had loosened her tongue wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
There was a long silence as Betty nursed the drink in her hand. Seconds ticked past and then Betty set the drink back on the table and took out a cigarette. The silence was broken with the strike of a match, and then after another moment of silence, Betty replied,
“Yeah, I know”.
“So why do you keep doing this to yourself?”, Gladys accepted a cigarette from the offered packet and let Betty light it for her, “Why not go and find someone who does like women the way you do instead of pining”.
“You offering princess?”, and it was nonchalant, and probably a joke or dig that Gladys didn’t quite get, but it made her stomach flip a little and a flutter make itself known in her chest, only for it to be silenced a moment later, “Didn’t think so”.
“There must be other women”
“Sure there are, an’ like me they’re pretending to be something they ain’t so that no-one makes their lives miserable”, Betty finished her drink and pushed the glass away from herself, “It’s easier to just…well, like you said, it ain’t like Kate’s ever goin’ to return the feelings so it’s just easier”.
Gladys returned her attention to her own drink and cigarette and wondered how many more glasses it would take before she mustered up the nerve to tell Betty that perhaps there was an alternative much closer than she thought.Fandom:
Malory Towers/Left 4 DeadRating:
318[Spoiler (click to open)]She didn’t feel so tough anymore. Alicia laughed at that thought. It kept coming back to her when she least expected it. It was ridiculous really, because if anything she’d proven herself to be much more resilient than she had ever imagined. The trick was to not think too much about it, or about anything really.
She heard the groan from around the corner long before the zombie coaxed itself into movement and with one solid swing of her cricket bat, Alicia smashed its head against the wall. The sound, once so terrifying and nauseating, didn’t bother her now. How could it when she had gone through so much worse?
There were meant to be survivors in this part of the city, that’s what she’d heard. She’d followed the scribblings on the walls of the safe houses, tracked the groups that seemed to be doing the best. Two groups of survivors in particular had gained notoriety for the fact they seemed immune to this disease. Just like she was. Her arm burned in time with that thought and she touched the scar that remained there without thinking. As quickly as the pain had arrived, a memory that she had tried so hard to avoid thinking about overwhelmed her.
Alicia strode forward, forced herself to think about the path she needed to take and not on the last time she had seen her friend. The last time she would ever see her friend... She found herself angry at Betty; in Betty’s position Alicia would have taken her own life rather than risk hurting someone else or forcing someone else to…to…
She buried the memory again, along with the thoughts that occasionally bothered her about her other classmates. Were they alive or had they met the same fate as Betty? Alicia didn’t hold out much hope for many of them, they just weren’t cut out for this new world.Fandom:
X + YRating:
240[Spoiler (click to open)]Luke didn’t care that the people across the other side of the aisle were staring at him, that they were whispering about him. Of course they were, because he was crying and there were blood stains on his sleeve. His parents would tell him it didn’t matter, that they still loved him, and he didn’t care about that either.
His arm itched but he tapped his fingers against his temple instead of scratching; tapped out cycles of patterns to try and think of anything except what had happened in Taiwan. But that didn’t work because he was already thinking about it. Thinking about how he wasn’t even good enough to go on and do the one thing he was meant to be really good at.
He told himself he didn’t care about that either. He didn’t even like maths. That’s what he’d told Nathan. Nathan who was just like him but somehow he didn’t get mocked and teased and ostracised. Nathan who was just like him but somehow didn’t spend nights when he couldn’t cope staring at the same clip of movie over and over, and who didn’t hurt himself when he was filled with rage and self-loathing.
He’d told Nathan something else as well, about how his parents had told him about his diagnosis. ‘They told me I was unique. Who doesn’t want to be unique’.
Well he didn’t. Not anymore. His parents would be disappointed at that.
|Saturday, March 26th, 2016|
Fandoms 38, 39 and 40!
: Willard Price's Adventure SeriesRating
: GWord Count
: Roger doesn't really care about normality.( NormalityCollapse )Title
: Fur SampleFandom
: PGWord Count
: Olivia meets a rather unusual ... being.( Fur SampleCollapse )Title
: In the StarsFandom
: GWord Count
: John Tracy sees another lonely man in space. ( In the StarsCollapse )
|Friday, March 25th, 2016|
The Fortieth Fandom!
YES! I managed it! After only doing about five last year (if that), and despite having a lot smaller list of fandoms these days, AND despite losing the list of fandoms I was working off, I managed it! YAYAYAY!
So, the final Fandom!
Fringe/ Confessions of Dorian GrayRating:
There is a stranger in the lab( I"m pretty sure I wrote something similar once...Collapse )
Thank you and Goodnight. Current Mood: sleepy
: Thine Own SelfFandom
: X-Men: First Class/His Dark MaterialsRating
: PGWord Count
: Raven's daemon does not settle. It's probably a good thing - but Raven isn't so sure.Link
Fandoms 34, 35 and 36
: Death NoteRating
: Raito/MatsudaWord Count
: Matsuda isn't sure why he feels bad about this.( SensibleCollapse )Title
: Joined in MatrimonyFandom
: Alfred/JimWord Count
: It has to be the oddest wedding Gotham has ever seen.( Joined in MatrimonyCollapse )Title
: Making it BetterFandom
: PGWord Count
: Percival misses Lancelot.( Making it BetterCollapse )
Fandoms 14 - 20
All the rest will have to be posted on Sunday since I am away at Insomnia Gaming Festival this weekend - so that will be a big post...I may have to cut it down.Fandom:
197[Spoiler (click to open)]Sally leant against the door frame and watched as Darrell got ready to go out. She had never thought to ask where Darrell went when Sally practically banished her from the house in a flurry of panic and self-shame every time her family came to visit. It didn’t seem right to ask her now.
“I’m sorry”, Sally tore the corner from the paper she was holding and rolled it into a tight ball, “I…this…I won’t ask you to leave next time”. She lowered her gaze, unable to look at the other woman. Her mind filled with wild ideas of telling her parents about her and Darrell, about stepping out from this lie. Then the other thoughts came. The thoughts of the disgust that her parents would voice, about being cut-off from her family, about Daffy growing up to think her older sister a sinner and a pervert.
The touch of Darrell’s hand beneath her chin brought Sally out of her thoughts and she looked up. Darrell smiled at her, a bittersweet expression that made Sally lose track of her thoughts,
“Yes you will”, Darrell kiss her gently, then pulled back, “but I understand”.Fandom:
328[Spoiler (click to open)]"Seriously?", Monroe accepted the beer from Stiles' outstretched hand and opened it, "He calls himself the alpha", Monroe took a drink and shook his head, "Man, what a dick". Stiles half expected Derek to appear from nowhere, like he always did, even though he knew logically that the werewolf was miles away.
"Yeah, that pretty much sums him up", Stiles sat down heavily on the sofa beside Monroe and opened his own beer, "So your friend..."
"He's some sort of monster hunter?", Stiles sat back into the sofa and watched as Monroe contemplated his answer.
"I guess you could put it that way. He's a Grimm, so he does hunt weisen, so I suppose a monster hunter is one way of putting it", Stiles didn't miss the grimace and he immediately felt bad.
"Aw man I didn't mean..."
"I know, don't worry about it"
"We call them hunters, there's a family of them near us", Stiles turned the bottle around in his hands, "they seem to focus on werewolves but I imagine they'd hunt other things as well if they came across them".
"They don't differentiate between the good ones and the bad ones I take it?", Monroe was a lot more perceptive than Stiles had given him credit for. Either that or Stiles was a lot easier to read than he thought he was.
“Not so much no”, Stiles glanced at the clock and wondered where Stiles and Nick were and whether, instead of drinking a beer and discussing the trials and tribulations of being a monster or werewolf or weisen or whatever the right word was, he and Monroe should actually be out helping them.
“Sometimes the best thing sidekicks can do is stay out of the way”, Monroe dragged him from his thoughts.
“Come on, like you’ve never felt like Robin - and a completely unappreciated one at that”, Monroe smirked, “so yeah, sidekicks. Revel in your Robinness my friend, it’s easier that way”.Fandom:
131[Spoiler (click to open)]Even if Arthur was into men - and Merlin couldn’t decide whether he was or not - there was no chance that he would ever think of Merlin like that.
Arthur would go for someone taller, someone stronger, someone who could jump from the ground to the back of a horse and ride alongside him into the heart of battle. He would fall in love with someone bold and self-assured who would stride up to him and make their intentions clear, make their interests well known.
Not someone who hid in the shadows, whispering magic to turn the tide in their favour. Not someone who pined for him from afar. Not someone who hid their true feelings behind sarcasm and a snide sense of humour. Certainly not someone as cowardly as Merlin.Fandom:
580[Spoiler (click to open)]Jack took his place at the back of the room, grateful that the group had grown large enough that the organisers had been forced to abandon their old circle of chairs. Jack much preferred not looking anyone in the face. People filtered in, avoiding the chair beside him and respecting his unspoken wishes like they had done since this new seating arrangement had started. Whispered, awkward conversations started up as people once again tried to find common ground between themselves and the person beside them.
Something other than the obvious that was.
Jack flinched as someone took the seat beside him, as someone violated his rule. He shifted, turned his head to say something, do something, and then realised that it wasn’t a regular. He clenched his fists, calmed his mind, reminded himself that a newcomer couldn’t possibly know that the chair next to him was empty for a reason.
Before he could think of something, anything, to say that would make the young woman move, she spoke first,
“Don’t talk to me, it’s taken weeks for me to get here. If you talk to me I might just run”, and Jack was left in a state of agitated limbo, desperately wanting to reclaim the protection offered by the empty seat but not quite so desperate that he was willing to drive another person away from the help they needed. So he slumped into his chair and stared straight ahead, scratched at the markings on the inside of his arm and tried not to think of the plasmids that had caused them. He felt the young woman glance at him, she probably thought they were weird tattoos just like everyone else did until they got a better look at them.
When the meeting started Jack didn’t speak - he hadn’t spoken since his first day and that insufferable ‘Hi, I’m Jack and I have PTSD because some giant killer robots tried to stop me from saving a bunch of little girls turned evil by a highly addictive substance that half of a crazed population wanted to rip out their livers for’. Well, not that he said that exactly because then they would either think he was taking the piss or that he really did need locking up. No, instead he’d coached it as a much more believable story about being a solider - being vague about the details but mentioning drugs and children and violent men.
He listened though - he always listened - because he was here for a reason and not because anyone had made him come, he didn’t have many people left in his life and certainly none that could force him here against his will. He listened so he didn’t feel alone, to find some kind of hope or optimism for the future.
She spoke though, the woman beside him, short words with a tight voice and shoulder hunched so much Jack thought she might pull a muscle,
“Hi, my name is Chell, and I have post-traumatic stress disorder”, nobody ever did that whole group hello in response thing because it was daunting and unnerving, Jack liked that as well, “I was kidnapped and… and…”, then Chell just sat down. The group continued fluidly as if she hadn’t stopped mid-sentence and Jack risked Chell’s earlier warning to offer her some words,
“You did fine”. Chell tensed for a moment and then - and maybe Jack was imagining it - she seemed to relax a little.
“Yeah, I think I did”.Fandom:
Papo and YoRating:
330[Spoiler (click to open)]Quico didn’t tell anyone what was happening to him. Ever. He knew what would happen, he wasn’t stupid. They would take him away and put him in a home, and as far as he was concerned that was worse. Worse than anything his father could do to him.
He was careful as well, kept his injuries hidden. Tried his best to clean up bloodstained shirts and replace tears and rips where his father had grabbed him. He thought he covered everything up so well.
So it was a surprise when he arrived at the school steps, where he would sit for the next twenty minutes until the doors opened, to find Mr Oliveira standing there waiting for him. Quico followed him inside, not daring to ask Mr Oliveira what he wanted. He followed him down the hallway to the library, then followed him inside.
Quico hadn’t been sure what to expect, but the breakfast on the table - simple really, just some fruit and some bread - was completely unexpected. Mr Oliveira took a chair and waved Quico into the one opposite, then promptly ignored Quico and started reading his morning newspaper whilst eating his own breakfast. Quico didn’t ask any questions, just ate in silence.
When their silent breakfasts had gone of for a few weeks, Mr Oliveira brought in some books that had belonged to his son, and two shirts that his boy had grown out of, and tried to leave them subtly on the side for Quico to collect up with his bag. The subtlety failed when Quico broke down and sobbed great, fat tears that left streaks down his face as they tracked through the dirt and dust that his quick wash from a bucket had failed to clean. Then Mr Oliveria offered tissues and a silent presence until Quico was ready to talk.
Quico knew that if he opened his mouth that everything would change, but he couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out,
“It’s my dad…”Fandom:
Ripper Street/Hell on WheelsRating:
291[Spoiler (click to open)]
“There’s a newcomer causing some trouble in the drinking houses”, that was the chatter around the police station. Reid generally tried to ignore gossip, especially police gossip, but as the stories became grander and bolder he found himself pausing in corridors and at the front desk just to hear a little more about this mysterious new man.
Bohannon was his name - if the whispers were correct - although Reid heard a few awful butcherings of the pronunciation, and he was here from America. He heard a few officers wondering if Captain Jackson might know him and felt like intervening and asking the hapless officers if they knew exactly how big America was and therefore how unlikely it was that Jackson would know this Bohannon.
Of course, Reid was glad he did no such thing now that Jackson - sat across from him with a cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other - was telling him that he did in fact know Bohannon. Not from America, but from his time spent in the pubs of London.
Really, Reid shouldn’t have been surprised that a newly arrived, hard-drinking American with a preference for using his fists to resolve problems had gone ahead and found the only other hard-drinking, ‘punch first ask questions later’ American that Reid knew. He certainly wasn’t surprised when Jackson grinned and told him that the black eye was courtesy of Bohannon, or that they had resolved their problem with a couple of blows followed by more than a couple drinks.
By the time Jackson had finished talking, Reid also wasn’t surprised that Jackson was sat in his office asking him to let Bohannon out of one of their jail cells.
Disturbing the peace.
That sounded about right.Fandom:
375[Spoiler (click to open)]“You were in the Navy”, it was a statement, they had done their research. What shady government agency - were they from the government? Owen didn’t even know - didn’t find out everything they could before ambushing some poor asshole in his local watering hole.
“I was”, course he wasn’t going to make the conversation easy for them, even if it turned out they even knew about the scar on his left foot and the crush he’d had on his sister’s best friend when he was in fourth Grade.
“You are a man with specific talents”
“So many ladies have told me”, Owen kept his eyes ahead, staring over the bar, beer in his hand, “A few blokes too in my college years”. He smirked at the man’s frustrated scowl, that he could just about make out from the reflection in the bar mirror. He never did work out why so many bars had them, those long-ass mirrors behind their spirits, he figured there was a reason besides freaking out the clientele after they’d had a few too many.
“The company we represent are very keen to get someone with your other talents on their team”
“The company you represent should damn well come and tell me about that themselves, after calling and arranging a time”, Owen ordered another beer with a raise of his finger and a tap to the top of his glass, “I charge extra for evenings and weekends”.
“I think you should at least see what I have to show you before you make anymore of your snide comments”, and there was a certain something to the tone that made Owen glance around, “Shall we move to a booth? I took the liberty of booking one out at the back”
“Now see, I’m starting to think it isn’t really my professional talents you’re after”, but Owen got off his barstool all the same, taking up his new beer with him, “It really that special what you’ve got on that laptop of yours?”
“You won’t believe me if I tell you”, and the government man or whoever he was started walking. Owen knew that he would probably regret the path this was taking him down some time in the future, but he followed him anyway.
|Thursday, March 24th, 2016|
Fandoms 31, 32 and 33
: All the Fun of the FairFandom
: Sapphire and SteelRating
: GWord Count
: Sapphire and Steel investigate a fair.( All the Fun of the FairCollapse )Title
: X-Men: Days of Future Past/Sapphire and SteelRating
: PGWord Count
: The last thing Charles wants when he gets back from Washington is to find strangers in his home.( DisturbanceCollapse )Title
: Surviving the GamesFandom
: X-Men: Days of Future Past/The Hunger GamesRating
: PG-13Word Count
: Surviving the games isn't just a matter of winning
them, as Hank and Charles know only too well.( Surviving the GamesCollapse )
|Wednesday, March 23rd, 2016|
|Tuesday, March 22nd, 2016|
|Monday, March 21st, 2016|
Fandoms 29 and 30
: A Kind of MagicFandom
: Blake's 7Rating
: PGWord Count
: It's early days and Blake isn't really sure about his new crewmate ... but Vila certainly isn't useless.Link
: The Hunger GamesRating
: PG Word Count
: The night before the Games, Prim finds it hard to sleep.( CourageCollapse )
|Sunday, March 20th, 2016|
Our final prompt for this time around is alert
. Use it how you like, congrats to our first finisher and good luck to everybody else! We can do it!
Fandoms 11 - 13
I have a lot of stuff to get through in 7 days - sadly academic writing committments kind of snowballed onto me.Fandom:
Teen Wolf/Buffy the Vampire SlayerRating:
307[Spoiler (click to open)]Whilst being thrown over his own Jeep because someone thought he might be a vampire was not usually the way Stiles went about making friends, he had to admit that now they were following a strictly no-throwing policy he quite liked Buffy Summers. He especially liked the not so black-and-white approach she took to hunting supernaturals that meant Scott and the rest of them were safe from being on the receiving end of Buffy’s stake.
Perhaps not Derek. Part of Stiles hoped he was just evil enough for Buffy to give him a decent kicking up and down the graveyard. But not evil enough for Buffy to kill.
“So where are the rest of your friends?”, Buffy broke the silence that had led to Stiles drifting into his thoughts in the first place.
“We split up, figured we’d cover more ground that way”
“They sent you on your own?”, and Stiles didn’t miss the disbelief in her voice, a reminder of his inability compared to his friends.
“I can take care of myself”, he sounded gruffer than he meant and Buffy nudged his arm with her elbow.
“Hey, That wasn’t a dig”.
Stiles just shrugged again and tried not to think about the upcoming fight that he was going to be as useful as a wet sponge in. He was grateful when Buffy broke the silence again as they finished her patrol of the graveyard,
“So what are you all doing here anyway?”
“We’re looking for something…a book”, Stiles shrugged his coat up higher against the cold, “I dunno what it’s meant to do but Derek thinks it’s important. We split up to try and find something out about it”.
“Now why didn’t you say that earlier”, Buffy smirked, “Looks like you’re in luck, because I know someone who knows all about books…”Fandom:
Elementary/Rizzoli and IslesRating:
379[Spoiler (click to open)]“Why is he on my crime scene?”, Jane demanded as she slammed the door of her car shut behind her, making the small vehicle shake from the impact, “and how did he get to another crime scene before us?”
“Radio scanner I’m guessing”, the sound of Maura’s heels catching up to her only served to irritate Jane more.
“Hypothetical, Maura”, Jane practically tore the police tape as she ducked under it and stormed over to the two people beside the body, “You! What are you doing here?”
“Offering our expertise, we’ve been over this”, Sherlock Holmes brushed down the front of his jacket and cast a glance at his partner, Joan Watson. Jane took a moment to calm herself before she was arrested at her own crime scene for strangling a consultant. In that time Maura stepped in closer to the body and began her own examination, although Jane didn’t miss the appreciative glance she offered in Sherlock’s direction just before doing so.
“And I told you, we don’t use consultants”
“Well your Sergeant rather thought we might be of assistance”, Sherlock straightened his stance and met her gaze, the glare that was usually enough to make hardened criminals feel uncomfortable, “He was certainly keen for our services when I spoke to him earlier”.
“You…”, Jane grabbed at the air in frustration, “You called…”
“Your sergeant, yes”, and Jane didn’t even recognise the strangled noise of frustration that came from her as she tried to formulate something, anything to say in response to that.
“Glad to see we’re making friends yet again”, Watson’s voice cut through the awkward silence, she looked over at Jane, “I’m going to go talk to your Lieutenant”.
“What good will that do?”, Sherlock turned to his partner, brow furrowed.
“Because I won’t be here”, Watson replied with a smile, and she carefully stepped over the evidence markers as she passed Jane on her way to Lieutenant Korsak. Jane scowled as Sherlock crouched down beside Maura, no doubt to give her another one of his amazing insights, and decided that if he turned up at their next crime scene she was declaring it a pattern of suspicious behaviour and hand-cuffing him to a street light.Fandom:
135[Spoiler (click to open)]Respect your parents. Honour your mother, honour your father…
Connor decided there had to be some leeway in those belief, those values held so highly. If a mother, a father was unworthy of respect or honour, then why should they be granted it without question.
A father who had never been around, a father who had forced himself into the life of a woman under false pretenses, a father who had chosen to pursue a life of torture and treason and murder…was that a man to be honoured? To be respected?
Connor didn’t believe so. Still, to think of doing to one’s father what Connor was thinking of doing to his, what he had already done to many in his way, was another matter.
Which is why he didn’t think about it much anymore.
|Friday, March 18th, 2016|