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2015-12-06T19:44:38Z

spn/ff - We Lay Our Burdens Down (b e f o r e w e b u r n t h e m t o t h e g r o u n d)

2012-07-31T21:41:22Z

Title: We Lay Our Burdens Down (b e f o r e w e b u r n t h e m t o t h e g r o u n d )

Author: Liv

Fandom: Supernatural/Firefly

Characters: River Tam, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, Simon Tam, John Winchester

30_kisses Prompt: 23 - Candy (a.k.a. FUCKING FINALLY AFTER FOUR FUCKING YEARS IT'S FINALLY FINISHED GOD I SUCK)

Rating: T

Warnings: general spoilers.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural or Firefly. This is a role reversal of the characters, in which River’s just a bad ass hunter and Sam’s been abused and tortured by the government for his special little brain.

Summary: River Tam hunts that which goes bump in the night, and occasionally saves paranoid hipsters who try to kill her with kitchen knives. Sam Winchester is one of these people. And he grates on her god damn nerves.

The outside world was tinted in red from the shades of her aviators, the wind was blowing her hair into her lip-gloss, and for the past 30 miles she’d had to resort to either Christian rock or static on the radio. Neither appealed to her, the man sitting next to her however seemed to think there was a message in the white noise and was flipping back and forth between the channels – driving her crazy.

“Knock it off, Sam,” she snapped, finally unable to be any sort of polite any longer. Sam ignored her and reached again for the tuning dial. River reached out and smacked his hand away, causing him to recoil back in his seat and stare at her with wide, accusing eyes.

“I’m trying to understand, River,” said Sam. “I’m trying to hear.”

“But there’s too much noise, I know,” said River with a sigh, running her fingers through her hair in exasperation. Her nose twitched as the smell of cow dung filled the air. She could still feel Sam’s eyes on her and deflated a bit. “Why don’t you call Bobby, we’re almost there.”

And suddenly it was like a switch had been flipped. River could feel the happiness leak off Sam as he palmed the phone out of the cup holder between them and dialed the only number he seemed to know.

And River went right back to driving mindlessly, Sam’s chatter just white noise in the background. Sam ‘uh-huh’d one last time and turned toward River, holding out the phone for her and poking her in the shoulder. She glanced at him, blinking quickly to shake off the drone-like feeling in her head. “Bobby wants to talk to you.”

Oh the benefits of mutual connections, thought River nastily, snatching the phone out of Sam’s hand without so much as a grunt in response. She dropped her shoulder against the doorframe and held her breath for a moment. “Bobby?”

“Tell me again,” growled Bobby on the other line, his voice shaking with emotion. “Tell me again how it happened that you, you River Tam found the only boy in the god damn country would wasn’t allowed to be found.”

“What did he say?” asked River in a bored tone, glancing at Sam out of the corner of her eye. He was making quick patterns on the window with his fingertips, eyes narrowed in concentration.

“He was talking about different types of candy.”

“Yeah, I still don't know what that means,” said River, rolling her eyes even if Bobby couldn’t see it (but really it was because he couldn’t see it that she did it). “He like talking about saltwater taffy. But if it makes you feel any better I never once tried to punch him while he was cleaning my guns.”

“You let him near your guns?”

“Listen,” snapped River, straightening in her seat and lowering her voice. “I’ve been trapped in a very small space with a very unstable man for the past forty-six hours. I have slept for zero of them. I am this close to being very unstable myself so please, pretty please, save your very long speech about safety until after I’ve made myself at home on your couch.”

There maybe have been grumbling on the other line, but River was going to ignore it. “Fine. How far out are ya?”

“Half an hour.”

“I’ll order a pizza.”

“Make it two,” said River, glancing at Sam. “Do you have any idea how much he eats?”

“Rivals your appetite?”

River snorted and grumbled. “It rival’s Jayne’s.”

Bobby chuckled and hung up, leaving her with a dial tone and the sound of Sam tapping out a pattern on the glass. She recognized the grouping of taps; it was the same pattern he’d been repeating for the past two days, since she found him in a bar with a knife.

River set her phone back into the cup holder between them, keeping her senses open just in case Sam wanted to flip out on her again. He shifted in his seat suddenly, looking over his shoulder into the back seat and then up at her, his puppy dog eyes narrowed in concern.

“Where the hell am I?”

River sighed. She thought she’d have another few hours before he’d have another lucid episode. She slowed her car and pulled over to the side of the room, throwing her gears into park and shutting off the car before turning in her seat to look at him very seriously.

“My name’s River Tam,” she said clearly, watching his eyes widen a fraction. She was well known in the community, but the Winchesters mostly stuck to themselves. Sam Winchester knew all sorts of people his brother and father never bothered to learn, so he recognized the name but not the face and not why he was in the shiny black hipster jeep she’d hotwired a week ago. Sam blinked at her behind black frames, his fingers twitching against his jean covered thighs. “I found you in a bar in Wyoming two days ago. You tried to gut me with a kitchen knife.”

“Did I-?”

“You didn’t hurt anyone,” interrupted River quickly. “I didn’t let you. I convinced you to come with me to see Bobby Singer. We’re about fifteen minutes out from his place.”

“Where’s Dean?”

River had hoped he wouldn’t ask. She shook her head and turned back around in her seat, starting her car back up again without answering. Sam stared at her with wide eyes, then blinked and looked down at the floor. Back to crazy Sam once again, she thought sardonically. Back to normal.

“I need my brother,” he said softly, his forehead dropping against the window. River could hear tears in his voice, but chose not to acknowledge them. Soon she’d be at Bobby’s and she could get rid of him. Soon.

Sometimes, River hated being so awesome. Really, it was only a burden being skilled in everything, everything. There was not one damn thing she could not do, and it made her just all the more great that she had no social shortcomings – only the intense dislike for stupid people and an intolerance of speaking to them for long periods of time. Or short periods of time. Any time at all really.

It was a quality she saw in Bobby nine times out of ten, and even though sometimes he stared at her the way she would stare at Jayne or Mal, she would forgive him. Because he hated everyone. Including her, nine times out of ten. So when she pulled her hipster jeep into his junkyard, sidestepped the slobbering dog who jumped at her to try and lick her face, she greeted Bobby with a small smile and an ‘I’m so sorry, but I don’t know what to do with a giant man’ hissed at him under her breath.

Bobby was already heading toward the passenger’s side, opening the door for Sam before he’d even realized the car had stopped moving and the leaves on the trees above them were stationary. Bobby hauled Sam out of the jeep and pulled him into a long, tight hug, which Sam returned with a smile. He had no idea what had happened to him.

River leaned back against the porch rail, one eyebrow quirked and her lips pursed. She hated sappy reunions - unless they were her own, and since she didn’t see Simon or Kaylee anywhere up in this bitch she was already done with the moment.

“Pizza’s in the kitchen,” said Bobby, slapping Sam hard on the back and pulling away from him. River saluted him smartly and ignored the bird he sent her way as she practically skipped into Bobby’s hunt house.

She would have tripped over the stack of books lined in front of the door if she wasn’t so awesome and pirouetted at the last moment, reminding herself that she had to navigate this dumpster dive like a labyrinth if she wanted to reach the other side of the house without any bruises.

Which she did. Awesomely.

Pizza was pepperoni and it was still hot and dripping with grease and being delicious by the time Sam and Bobby finally joined her. She was sitting cross-legged on the table because every single chair was piled with either books and/or scrolls; one held a suspiciously charred looking scull that River had been having a staring contest with out of sheer boredom.

“Has he been like this the entire trip?” asked Bobby, not bothering to keep his voice down as Sam made a bee line for the pizza, sandwiching two pieces together and chowing down. River smirked at him, her eyes crinkling in amusement. Bobby cleared his throat impatiently.

“Huh? Oh, ah…mostly yeah. Except when he’s lucid.”

“Lucid?” repeated Bobby, and River held back the smart ass just in time. “When was the last time-“

“Just after I called you,” said River through a mouthful of pizza. She gestured at him with her half eaten pizza crust and swallowed. “It’s not for very long. And he has no idea who I am.”

Bobby’s eyebrows shot up, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Really? I thought everyone knew of the Great River Tam.”

She shrugged. “Most of them do. But the Winchesters pretty much think they’re the only people who know what goes on in the dark and scary corners, so I can’t really hold it against them. At least Sam’s heard of me.”

Bobby rolled his eyes and turned toward one of the less cluttered chairs and cleared it off, sitting down in it heavily. He eyed Sam for a long moment and then turned his eyes back onto River.

“How’s the Captain?”

River snorted. “Mal? Fine. He and Zoe are on a hunt in Boston. Some sort of pseudo-wannabe demigod that’s breaking legs and shattering eardrums or whatever. I was planning on heading up there after…well, plans changed.”

Bobby leaned forward, dropping his elbows onto his knees and eyeing her seriously. “Sam’s a pretty powerful guy, River. Did he...?”

River sighed, looking away, watching a fly land on the crumbs scattered over the table. “I walked in just as he was picking up the knife. I think one of the cooks brought it out to the bar and Sam must have…” she glanced at Sam, but he was happily ignoring them, staring at the reflections of light on the ceiling. “Something must have threatened him,” she continued. “He knocked out three people before I managed to take him down. Never been so impressed with myself, he’s got like a foot on me.”

Bobby nodded and stood, still tense; didn’t matter how many times River told him that story, he just wouldn’t relax. He pulled his hat off his head and ran his fingers through his thin hair, his face twisted in exasperation. “I have to find Dean,” he muttered.

At the sound of his brother’s name, Sam’s head shot up, “Dean?” he repeated, his eyes widening hopefully. “Dean’s coming?”

River turned back to her food, shaking her head because it was never a good idea to mention the elder Winchester brother. “Now you’ve done it,” she muttered into her pizza crust. Bobby either ignored her or shot her a look she didn’t catch, but the next thing she heard was Bobby’s gruff voice attempting to calm Sam down and tell him that no, Dean wasn’t coming.

“You’re right though, he needs to know,” commented River after Bobby and deposited Sam’s depressed form into the couch in his living room. Bobby was staring down at Sam as the large man curled into himself, rolling onto his side and facing away from them. Bobby sighed and turned his head to look at her, his eyes narrowed. River shrugged, uncaring. “What?”

“Do you have any tact?” grumbled Bobby. River thought about it for a moment. No…no she really didn’t. Eh, minor flaw in an otherwise flawless creature. Even Angels had their broken pieces.

She raised an eyebrow, her face blank with indifference. “As long as you don’t say his name, he won’t know the difference.”

Bobby frowned, turned his head to make sure Sam, practically comatose, still wasn’t paying them any attention, and turned back to River. “What the hell did they do to him?”

River sighed, pushing herself away from the wall and heading across the living room. She placed her hands on Bobby’s shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. “You asking me to make a job out of this?” she asked seriously. Bobby’s eyes widen a fraction, and River heard his breath hitch. He hadn’t considered that this could possibly be something she could fix. He underestimated her.

“You telling me you can?” he countered, faking the serious negotiator. River was touching him though, she knew his secrets and he couldn’t fool her.

“And kick all kinds of ass in the process.” And she meant it. She’d heard a lot about Sam Winchester in her years as a hunter. He and Dean were sloppy hunters, loud, they left loose ends for the rest of them to tie up and they left witnesses. But she knew that Sam was a smart guy, and he was kind and fated and all kinds of shades of grey.

Bobby stepped out of her arms, and she let them fall back to her sides. He was frowning, his eyes moving from the ground to Sam’s form and finally stopped on River. He fixed her with a serious frown. “I can get you John on this.” River felt her eyebrows rise at the offer. John Winchester had been MIA for months. Nobody, nobody, had heard a peep out of him. Not even River.

“I’m not sure if that’ll be a blessing or a pain in my gorram ass,” River snorted, shaking her head. She stared out the open window into Bobby’s yard, watching the sun bounce off the hood of her shiny black stolen hipster jeep. She thought about Simon, about what her brother would think about her doing something like this. She was, essentially, going on a blind pseudo-hunt with no backup other than John Winchester. And his loyalties were sketchy at best. Right now Simon would be at work. He was the person you called when you needed a trauma surgeon with knowledge of demon related injuries and the ability to keep their mouth shut.

“He needs to let me lead on this,” said River finally, turning her eyes back onto Bobby. “I mean it; he can’t go blazing in with guns and glory. I don’t take kindly to SIC status.”

“I’ll make sure he gets the message,” said Bobby with as much of a laugh as he could to lighten the mood. Then without another word he turned and headed for the door, grabbing his keys off a pile of books as he went. “Watch him?”

“I’m reduced to a babysitter again,” muttered River darkly under her breath. Bobby hadn’t waited for her answer and left the house, leaving River alone with Sam. She sent his turned back a withering look, and grumbled nonsensically to herself, stalking to the couch and propping her hands on her hips.

“Did you catch any of that, Sam?”

Sam twisted around, flopping onto his back and staring up at her with puppy dog eyes. “Secrets don’t make friends.”

“But friends make great secret keepers,” she counted lightly. River tilted her head to the side, her eyes narrowing. “What’s the matter?”

She had learned pretty fast that even lucid, Sam wore his heart on his sleeve. It was sort of annoying, riding along with a never ending emotional roller-coaster who only stopped his bitchfest for Oreos. Sam reached out of her, and out of habit she pulled away, but he managed to snag her wrist before she’d gotten out of groping distance.

“River,” Sam whined, his fingers flicking against the charms on her bracelet. She could tell how much pain he was in, even if he was just acting like a brat. Holding back a sigh, River sunk into the edge of the couch, not surprised when Sam’s body curled around her. His grip on her sleeve tightened, like he was afraid she would leave him if he let go. River reached out to push his hair away from his forehead, carding her fingers through his hair soothingly. He stared at her, his expression raw and his soul completely open to her.

“I know what you’re thinking,” said River, the corner of her mouth pulling upward at the same time Sam’s eyebrow arched. “I could do one of three things. Your choice.”

His eyebrow settled back in its rightful place and eyes slid off to the side. River bit back another sigh and stroked his hair again. It was slightly greasy from lack of personal hygiene (she assumed they had fed and watered him daily before he escaped, ‘they’ being the sicko’s who’d kidnapped him), but it seemed to sooth him so she didn’t mind too much. Sam sighed childishly against the couch cushion.

“One, find Dean,” he recited as if he was reading her mind. “Tempting, but if he doesn’t want to be found then he’s doing me a favor by staying hidden. Both of us together would just bring more attention. Two, leave me here with Bobby. Most logical choice for you, you didn’t exactly sign up for this did you? Three…” Sam trialed off, his eyebrows furrowing in thought, and settling on confusion when he failed to come up with the third option. “What’s three?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” asked River, turning her head up and away in false haughtiness, glancing out of the corner of her eye down at Sam. He glared at her. “I do have a third option. Can’t you figure it out?”

“I’m not a super genius,” pouted Sam. “I can see the black and the future, but I can’t always add it up.”

“That’s right, I’m the super genius,” said River, looking back down at Sam. “And super genius says it’s time to stop avoiding the subject and tell me what you escaped from.”

Sam sat up suddenly, his face too close to hers, but she wasn’t the kind of person to be intimidated so she didn’t lean away. His nose touched hers and his too kind eyes saw through her.

“I want to tell you,” he said softly. River swallowed as he closed his eyes and moved in closer, if that were possible.

River could feel the uncertainty and fear leaking off him and for the first time since she walked into that bar and found Sam she finally understood why he wouldn’t tell her where they’d kept him. He couldn’t. “You can’t remember.” She said softly. Sam made a face that River could almost see and he dropped his head against her shoulder.

“They took it from me,” he said, his voice muffled by her hair and leather coat. “All of it. Bitches.”

“Well from one super genius to a regular one,” said River softly, reaching up to lay an arm across his shoulders. “Maybe it’s better not to remember.”

“There’s always a downside,” Sam sighed heavily, his hot breath against her neck. Was it wrong that she was enjoying having him so close to her? Sure, he had the attention span of a four year old and his speech was more like a child’s than a man’s and yeah, she did feel a little guilty and a little like she was taking advantage of him, but honestly if he weren’t so wacked in the brainpan she’d admit he was pretty damn –

“I can hear you, you know,” muttered Sam against her neck, smirking against the soft leather collar. River rolled her eyes. Of course he did; because he saw the things that didn’t need to be said and had to Captain Obvious it all the fuck up. River pulled him off her, her eyes narrowed in a silent warning, warning for him to watch his next words carefully. He gave her a half-grin and glanced away with a, “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Seriously.”

“Right.”

“I would never exploit your carnal desires for me, River.” She rolled her eyes again, but couldn’t fight down the blood rising up her cheeks. She internalized it as exasperation.

“Please, maybe when you’re lucid.”

His eyes were glittering with amusement. Crystal clear. River felt her own eyes widen in realization, just as the corner of his mouth turned up. "I'm lucid now."

And without giving her a chance to defend herself (yes, River counted being kissed as a death wish), Sam slanted his mouth over hers and wrapped a large, too strong arm around her waist. With no where to go, River could only sink into the kiss, let herself imagine he was someone not so broken...and maybe not a Winchester.

They pulled apart slowly, River's eyes fluttering open the moment his lips left hers. He was breathing evenly, his eyebrows knitted together. River reached up to run her fingers along the crease, and in response Sam's eyes snapped open.

She saw nothing but fog.

"Do you think Bobby will bring back taffy?"

darkmagic_luvr @ 2012-05-30T00:11:00

2012-05-30T07:11:24Z

hahaha...well.

you all know I'm pretty much a crazy person right?
oh good.
well, you really should just explore my tumblr for kicks, really it's where all the crack happens.

oh btw, I'm writing a Lost Girl/Vampire Diaries fic in which Dyson is Klaus' father.

obsession is...getting a bit ridiculous.
like...I don't even have a ship for this fic..
it's pretty much just gen. which is weird for me...
well I guess I ship Esther/Dyson in it...

but that's pretty much it.
and yeah. living a tumblr life.
reeeeally should come visit me there.

oh. also. Joseph Morgan.
aaaaand the Vitamin String Quartet.

spn/ff: Help, I'm Alive 10/?

2012-04-22T04:52:00Z

Title: Help, I’m Alive 10/?
Author: Liv darkmagic_luvr
Fandom: Supernatural/Firefly
Characters: all of the above
Rating: R
Warnings: general spoilers.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural or Firefly. Any characters you don’t recognize are original and should not be used without my permission.
Chinese - tsway-niou - bullcrap; go tsao de gos se - dog humping crap; āiyā - god/oh my god

part 1|part 2|part 3|part 4|part 5|part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9

Simon sat on a toilet in the bathroom with the door locked and the water in the sink running on high. He had his head in his hands and his fingers twined around his hair tightly. He was trying not to pull it out, but every now and then the sobs in his chest were just too much to control and he would pull just a little too hard and the roots would snap. He swallowed, sniffing hard a few times to try and ward off the snot threatening to run down his upper lip.

The man outside - not the one pounding on the door to get him to ‘get his fuckin’ ass out of the god damn head or I swear I’ll break it down’, but the freakishly tall one with the stupid hair - had been with his sister. Somehow, someway, he had been with River. Simon didn’t quite know if he believed everything those three outside had told him about the dream world River had created with Sam, but it was the most….logical explanation. Tsway-niou that it was it made the most sense than anything else he could come up with.

And Sam had more than admitted to a relationship with his sister.

A flash of rage constricted his chest and Simon fought back a scream. He ripped his hands out of his hair and pressed his fingers against his eyes, as if he could push the tears back into his body.

Dean - the shorter one with the gun - once again started pounding on the door, but it sounded so halfhearted this time. Simon listened to the knocking stop and Dean sighed. Another thump followed and Simon pictured Dean’s forehead hitting the closed door.

“Look,” came Dean’s soft voice from the other side, muffled by the wood but Simon could hear him clearly. “I don’t know where your from. All I know about your slice of reality is of what your sister has told Sam. I’m not trying to be a dick or anything, but you should know that my brother comes first for me. And…(another sigh) from how you reacted to Sam knowing your kid sister, I’m guessing you feel the same about her. I’m not going to pretend this isn’t fucked up, but if you come out of there I can try and explain what it is you did to wind up here. What do you say?”

Simon felt like answering. He really, really did. But there was the fear around his heart that prevented him from speaking. What if Dean was right? Then this was all his fault, and he might never get home. River was pregnant and alone and the last thing he had said to her…it hadn’t been right. He hadn’t been right.

“Simon?”

He stood up quickly, not bothering to try and compose himself as he reached for the door and jerked it open. Dean stumbled slightly, proving he had been leaning against the door listening inside, but he straightened up quickly. His face twisted in confusion, his eyebrows furrowing as he took in Simon’s appearance.

“You look like hell.”

Simon ignored him. “How do I get back.”

Dean snorted. “It’s not that simple man. The way you got here-”

“I don’t give go tsao de gos se about how I got here,” snarled Simon. “I just want to know how to get back.”

Dean didn’t blow up the way Simon thought he would. Instead he deflated; his shoulder’s slumped and he dropped his eyes to the ground. He sounded generally sorry when he spoke. “You can’t.”

Simon’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean I can’t?”

Dean reached up to rub his forehead, sighing sharply. “The thing you did to get here - that thing you can’t remember - was a deal you made with a hell demon.”

Simon couldn’t hold back the snort of disbelief or the eye roll. “This? You’re not serious.”

“You got a better explanation?” snapped Dean.

Simon shrugged. “Science? Head trauma, a hallucinogenic maybe-”

“This is real.”

“You don’t know the kind of drugs I have access to,” said Simon, shaking his head wistfully. Dean huffed and flicked his eyes away, and Simon watched the wheels turn in his head before he took the moment of silence to really think about what Dean was saying. Earlier, Dean had called what had done this to him a crossroads demon, and everyone seemed to be blaming him for the current situation.

Simon thought hard, relieving every detail he could remember before he blacked out. Like earlier, the only clear thing that came to mind was watching River pace back and forth in the med bay. He closed his eyes, lifting a hand to press against his eyes as he concentrated harder, but the dull throb of what he had thought was a broken nose (he’d checked and it was only bruised, but that didn’t help the pain any) kept distracting him.

Dean’s voice broke through his concentration. “Dude listen, whatever’s happened you can’t blame yourself completely. These women are tricky bitches and they’ll do anything to make a deal.”

Women. Simon’s eyes snapped open in horror, the image of a curvy mechanic flashing through his mind and the memories of his last moments on Serenity came rushing back to him.

“I can help you, Simon, so you can place blame where it’s due.”

“Āiyā…”

Dean blinked at Simon a few times, shifted on his feet and cleared his throat. “Ah…sorry?”

“Kaylee…” breathed Simon, not hearing Dean at all as the panic rose up inside him. “It was Kaylee!”

Simon shoved Dean out of the way, rushing past while Dean frowned after him. “Who’s Kaylee? She sounds hot.”

.

Every now and then the shouting from inside Missouri’s place would reach peak and you could easily hear Dean’s voice along with the sound of flesh pounding against wood. There was still blood on the sidewalk, dried now, the off brick-red color standing out like a dark spot.

John twisted his hands around his steering wheel, gripping the leather tightly as he kept his eyes on the house across the street. Dean’s voice echoed through the cab, ringing in his ears even though he’d already memorized every one of his son’s messages. Sammy was in trouble. They’d gone to Bobby and now to Missouri, and if that woman couldn’t fix it then he might just have to intervene.

John had watched that well dressed man who’s body belonged to the blood on the sidewalk appear out of thin-god-damn-air. He’d felt something when it had happened, it had sent a chill down to his bones - coupled with the sound of Sam’s screaming from inside the house.

It had been enough that John was halfway out of his car before he realized something was wrong with the world, and he wouldn’t be any good barging in on his son’s problems without a fix to the situation. So he’d sat his ass back down and waited. Ten painful minutes of white-knuckling the steering wheel before the man lying on the ground began to stir.

Then he got the first glimpse of his boy in months, and it was a drink of cool water or a shot of whiskey through his veins. Dean looked mean and down right furious at whoever this man was, and John was starting to feel more and more glad that he’d kept to his car.

But two hours later and he was still sitting in that car, his eyes glued to the front door of Missouri’s house waiting for Sam or Dean or hell even Missouri to realize he was out there. It might have been asking to much to be noticed, but he wanted - needed - to make sure they were all right in there.

He’d give it ten more minutes. Then he was going in.

“Hello John.”

His blood froze in his veins. That voice, smooth and deep and smug. It rang in his ears and made his stomach churn. John turned his head slowly, keeping his face as impassive as possible, even though he knew the demon could probably smell it like a dog.

“What do I owe the pleasure,” he snarled, his jaw clenched so tightly it sent shooting pains up the side of his face. He received a slow smirk in return. John’s skin flashed hot and he wanted painfully to bolt from the car (or sucker punch the smug fuckin’ bastard in the mouth).

“I see you’re the same coward as ever, John. Haven’t your boys waited long enough?”

“You go right to hell.”

The demon chuckled and moved his black eyed gaze off of John and settled onto the house. “I heard they need you in there,” a short glace in John’s direction. “Grapevine, of course.”

“Cro-”

“Tsk, tsk, John, you know better than to say my name.” the demon tutted at him and tapped the dashboard with his index finger. “I do have to say, this has been one of my more favorite deals. Time travel, a mesh of two timelines to create a brand spanking new one. Who knows what could happen now that Simon Tam is in your little slice of time? It was already going a bit wonky, seeing as how Sam fucked-”

John’s hand shot out before Crowly had a chance to finish his thought, his fingers wrapped around the demon’s throat, his flesh burning against the iron rings on John’s fingers. His eyes burned bright with rage, the edges of his vision going black. “Don’t you say a damn word.”

“Touchy.” choked out Crowly, wrapping on hand around John’s wrist and prying his hand off his neck. “I thought I could spare you some curiosity and rage in the future, but you don’t want my help-”

“Damn right I don’t.”

“And yet you sit outside watching them like a peeping tom. Very well, you’ll find out soon enough.” Crowly winked at him. “Grapevine.”

Crowly was gone before John could blink. There was no showboating or finishing one-liner, he was just gone, leaving John sitting alone in his car with his arm hanging in the air where Crowly had left it.

He swallowed and settled back into his seat, feeling boneless and dizzy and more than ever now, concerned for his sons. He’d stopped Crowly from telling him what was going on, a good plan or a stupid one, John wasn’t sure yet.

But if Crowly said he would find out soon enough, he dreaded to know what that information would be.

instincts 11/?

2012-04-19T19:52:47Z

Title: Instincts 11/?
Author: Liv darkmagic_luvr
Fandom: Dark Angel
Characters: Max, Alec
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Spoilers through season two. AU through Designate This.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Dark Angel. Any characters you don’t recognize are original and should not be used without my permission.
Author’s Note: Written as part of my alphabet meme for jazmin22, the prompt was ‘instinct’. This couldn’t be contained in a one shot, so it’ll be multi-chaptered. First Dark Angel fic.

Oh have I still not posted this here?

Summery: There was really only one way he could keep both their asses safe, he just didn't think she'd kiss him back.
part 1|part 2|part 3|part 4|part 5|part 6|part 7|part 8|part 9|part 10

previously

Ordinary aside, he had a feeling Original Cindy was far more dangerous than either transgenic in the room.

.

The morning found Alec sitting on the couch watching television bare-chested in his camo-pants and socks. He had a bowl of cereal in his hands and the remote balancing on his knee. Something loud and colorful was playing on the tube and keeping him completely engaged when Max walked out of her room a good two hours before dawn. OC would be asleep until 7, roll out of bed and still get to Jam Pony before her.

She pushed her hair behind her ear as she made her way to the kitchen, keeping an eye on Alec. Her eyes dropped to his bare chest absentmindedly as she pulled a bowl out of the cupboard and poured herself her own cereal. She checked herself and shut her mouth a split second before Alec turned his head to look at her. He quirked his eyebrows in greeting and returned his attention to the screen. Max rolled her eyes and strolled across the living room to sit next to him, right knee bumping against his left.

They ate in silence, eyes wide against the blaring light from the television, arms brushing whenever either one shifted.

"How'd you sleep?" asked Max finally, not looking at Alec, even if she knew the answer. He'd been up before her, and he'd been anxious, which may have been why she couldn't get to sleep at all. She felt him shrug against her and scoop some soggy cereal into his mouth.

"It's weird," said Alec slowly. "Whenever I've been out of Manticore it's been because of a mission. I don't know how to sleep on the Outside."

"Better get used to it, 'cause you're not going back," said Max, the unspoken 'and that's final' hanging in the air. She opened her mouth to add 'Maybe you'd sleep better next to me.' but the words caught in her throat and she made a strangled sound instead. Where the hell had that come from? Was that the claim talking? Had to be, she didn't need anybody next to her in bed. And she was just….you know…trying to be considerate and shit. It was his first night Out. She remembered being Out out (and yeah, there may have been more running and snow and shooting and it was totally completely different than practically walking out the front door like they'd done not too long ago, but whatever she was relating.). She just didn't want him to be alone.

"I'm bored," said Alec, interrupting her thoughts. He brought the edge of his bowl to his mouth and drained the rest of the milk and bit of cereal left. Then, around a mouthful of cheap plastic, "Can we do something fun?"

Max snorted. "Like what, pre-dawn burglaring?" she'd meant it as a joke obviously, but the bright, thoughtful look on Alec's face coupled with the peculiar realization that she'd never. Actually. Gone on a dawn B&E, made the suggestion very tempting, and before she knew it she was nodding her head along with him.

"O…kay," she said slowly. "Sure. But nothing dangerous-"

"Got it, no bombs."

"-Or anything too valuable-"

"Figured museums were out anyways."

"-And we have to stay in this sector."

Alec rolled his eyes, but he was practically vibrating with energy now. Suddenly, the perfect grab came to Max. It could be like a welcome to the world present or something! She was sure he'd know how to use one… Max whacked Alec in the thigh and stood up, bouncing momentarily on the balls of her feet as she waited a split second for Alec to join her and maybe in the heat and excitement of the moment she grabbed his hand and dragged him to her bike, forcing him to help her get it downstairs.

"You're going to make me ride bitch aren't you?"

"Unless you want to walk…?"

"Ugh, sweating, so bothersome," Max had to turn her head away to make sure Alec couldn't see her smirk. "Fine, but if I grab any ass it's your own fault."

She ignored the ass comment and the shot of electricity down her spine that came with it. Instead she let her mind wander to the steady stream of words pouring from Alec's mouth as they descended the stairs of the silent building and hoped that no one she knew came out of their homes to see what the racket was. But they made it to the ground floor without any problem and in a minute and a half Max was speeding down the uncrowned streets of Seattle with Alec pressed against her back.

God it was so good to be back on her baby that she could hardly keep the smile off her face. It was cold in the early morning, the contrasting heater that was Alec pressed against her back, his arms wrapped around her middle. She could feel him humming happily through his chest, his neck twisting different ways every so often so he could catch the different sights, not that there were many. Twelve minutes and one awkward detour after spotting a hover drone later Max was slowing her baby to a stop and block and a half away from the police lot where they kept all the pretty confiscated vehicles. Alec had obviously smell the motor oil and seen the barbed wire topping the chain link fence, because he looked at her with wide, unblinking eyes.

"Maaaaax…." he started slowly, almost knowing the answer but not getting his hopes up. Smart boy when she was concerned.

She answered with a smirk and locked her bike, strolling past him toward the lot with Alec on her heels. "We're getting you a present."

"Seriously?"

Max shushed him, pursing her lips to keep from snorting and whacked him blindly. "You've got five minutes to pick one before I drag you out."

Alec was vibrating with excitement again and he stepped too close to her, leaning down to smirk in her ear, sending shocks of pleasure through her core and making the tips of her fingers go numb. "I'll be back in three."

It took him two minutes which was probably the only reason Max didn't whack him for choosing the most vibrant, nauseatingly green colored bike she'd ever seen.

darkmagic_luvr @ 2012-03-22T22:26:00

2012-03-23T05:26:54Z

Hey...
so...
who wants to read what I've written for the Gaara/Merlin fic so far?
Personally, I think it's motherfuckin' awesome.

Please nerd out with me.

look, oooh, aaah! art incentive .

BECAUSE THIS IS WHAT I DO WITH MY LIFE - YOU KNOW THAT.

muahahaha

2012-03-20T03:28:06Z

STOP ME.

STOPMESTOPMESTOPMESTOPMESTO-

Oh, too late.
Guuueeeess what I'm writing?
Not my Big Bang.
Nooooot my hs_merlin fic.

...

Naruto/Merlin fic.
I blame Cheese.

But it's going to be soooo cool.

god damn it stop me!
except don't because it's fuuuuun.

WHAT UP BITCHES?!

2012-03-18T07:02:56Z

Alright, popping in to say that paperlegends is super awesome and underway!

Hello Cheese and Tina! I don't think I'll be on lj so much for a little while - I'm not really into fandom at the moment (besides Naruto and now Merlin) so it may be a little boring here.

Unfortunately I find myself in a quandary. I'm sort of working on two plots at the moment. The first, I'm sure some of you will remember me talking about, is the Will/Sophia Modern AU where Will wakes up from a coma and has lost the last three years of his life.

The second, the one that I think I might be leaning toward, is a Modern AU as well, gen/supernatural/horror and takes place in a haunted house. Characters die, ghosts are pissed, people are possessed.

They're both good fun. Leon's a snarky bitch in the second and all my Merlin RP friends know how lovely my Will is.

But yes! This is what I'm doing. All the while trying to battle ridiculous plot bunnies like Merlin being a robot and Arthur fixing him in secret because his father is against the AI project. Or how I desperately want to write a sequel to Sins of the Father which CANNOT HAPPEN BECAUSE IT CAN'T. My heart can't take the terrible things I know I'll end up doing to Leon and Mordred. (ps, he gets kidnapped by evil wizards and Gwaine saves him. Also, Mordred get's hit on a shit ton by Gwaine and inappropriately fondled by a princess. I'll also do a bit of Merlin's life while he was banished from Camelot)

...why do I do this to myself?

I can't explain the fuckery that goes on in my brain.
but it's delightful.

also ~ NARUTOOOOOOO!
<3
I'm going to have to wait like a year or something before I can watch it again and kill myself all over.

And this is my life.
School. Writing fic. Naruto.
my life.

Doesn't help that I signed up for hs_merlin.
kill me now.

lost girl - Paper Claims

2012-02-15T03:39:29Z

Title: Paper Claims
Author: Liv darkmagic_luvr
Fandom: Lost Girl
Characters: Kenzi, Dyson, Trick, OMC
Rating: T for lots of language
Warnings: general spoilers.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Lost Girl, the characters or even the premise of the plot. It’s overdone. Whatevs
Author’s Note: This was fun to write, but I wont be continuing it anytime soon.

Kenzi was sitting at the bar, minding her own perfectly fine business with a complementary bottle of something labeled in a pretty fae language that tasted sweet and made her toes feel all tingly. It was also blue, which matched the streaks in her hair and partly one of the reasons she’d swiped it. Kenzi swirled blue around in her tumbler and swung her feet childishly between the bars in her stool. Trick was ignoring her, partially at least. He had customers to tend to or drinks to make or whatever. It was all boring and Kenzi was all bored.

She heard the familiar creak of the bar door opening and falling shut again but didn’t bother looking to see what kind of new and exciting fae walked in. Instead she tipped her drink down her throat and wiggled in her seat as a bubbly sensation shot straight to her feet. She was just coming down from the effects of her drink when a forearm draped across the back of her chair and an almost average looking man with spotty facial hair and light brown eyes invaded her line of sight. Kenzi blinked at him, her vision swaying just before she locked onto him. He leaned into her personal space and sniffed her. Just a few months ago, Kenzi would have spazzed out that someone in a bar was sniffing her, but she’d been in the fae world and this bar for a little longer than most humans would have been allowed and had grown somewhat accustomed to the eccentricities of the fae.

Usually they’d smell Bo’s succubus joojoo on her and leave her in peace, or Trick would swat the backs of hands and they’d slink away with their metaphorical (and sometimes literal) tails between their legs. But this guy was staring at her with black eyes and flushed skin and Kenzi had a feeling a little reprimand wasn’t gonna cut it this time. He showed his teeth at her and suddenly all the alcohol in her system felt like a weight.

“Human.” He said, as if this was the proper way to great someone unfae. Kenzi raised an eyebrow instead of rolling her eyes, but the same effect was there. Her heart thrummed in her chest a bit too quickly and for a moment she realized he might be able to hear it.

“Creep,” she snapped turning away. She reached across the bar for her bottle of blue, but Creepy Fae Dude knocked it out of her way before her fingers even brushed the glass. Kenzi felt her mouth drop open as the bottle fell from the bar and crashed to the floor on the other side. The bar went a little quiet, and Trick’s attention on the other side of the room zeroed in on them. Her arm was still, fingers hovering in the air poised to grab.

“Mattox!” Trick’s voice was clear like a bell and it broke the spell over Kenzi (who’d been thinking about her poor, poor blue alcohol and how she would never know if the tingly sensations could be permanent if one finished the bottle). ‘Mattox’ didn’t even flinch; he just kept his eyes on Kenzi.

Unluckily for him, time caught up with her. Kenzi slammed her palm against the bar top and whipped her head around, eyes narrowed and very nearly seething. There may have been steam.

“What the fuck did you do that for?!” this time Mattox blinked, pulling away from her ever so slightly in almost shock, like he wasn’t used to being talked to by a mere human in any way let alone her way. Kenzi’s teeth ground together as she waited for an answer, because really, she expected one.

“Mattox.” Kenzi blinked and turned her head, finding Trick behind the bar across from her, looking very blankly at Mattox. The fae seemed surprised by his sudden presence too, but in a moment he was back in Kenzi’s personal space and looking dangerously at Trick.

“You’re letting human’s sit at your bar?” he asked. “I wasn’t aware we were allowed to bring snacks into the Dal.”

“Who are you calling a snack-?”

“Kenzi, please,” interrupted Trick, holding up a hand to stop her from making the situation worse by being herself. Kenzi’s eyes narrowed but she kept her mouth shut. Trick turned back to Mattox. “She’s been claimed and she is welcome here.”

“Oh, well then in that case,” started Mattox, pulling his arm off the back of Kenzi’s chair and folding it across the bar. He leaned closer to Trick and lowered his voice, his words so dry they were bone. “I suppose you don’t mind telling me who owns her? Light or the Dark?”

Kenzi swallowed, suppressing a groan. Trick shifted uncomfortably. “Neither.”

“Ah,” said Mattox, nodding thoughtfully, even if Kenzi could totally see that he knew exactly who Trick was talking about and - she was totally screwed wasn’t she? Mattox grinned slowly and that answered her question. She was a dead Kenzi. “The succubus’ pet? Funny, she doesn’t look like a Thrall.”

Trick looked away and Kenzi felt her stomach churning. There were rules in the fae world, rules she vaguely knew about but wasn’t exactly privy too. Bo had claimed her the first time she’d come to the Dal, but she hadn’t exactly claimed her had she? Trick must have been having a similar thought, because he caught her eye and shook his head slightly.

“No,” said Trick with a deep sigh. “She’s not a Thrall.”

“Then she is free for someone else to grab?” asked Mattox, even if he knew the answer. Kenzi felt her upper lip twitch and her fingers were itching to punch something fae. She didn’t even hear the bar door open behind her until Trick’s eyes focused on someone and his face relaxed.

“Dyson.” And Kenzi heard relief in his voice. Her head snapped around, eyes picking out Dyson in an instant. She felt Mattox tense next to her and knew without a doubt that Dyson would fix it and everything would be okay.

“Everything alright, Trick?” he asked, his eyes flickering to Mattox and then to Kenzi. “Kenz?”

“We have a problem,” mumbled Trick, gesturing to Mattox. “Kenzi hasn’t been properly claimed and Mattox is challenging Bo‘s ownership.”

“So where’s Bo?” asked Dyson, leaning against the bar so very nonchalantly that Kenzi wanted to throttle the casualness out of him.

“Kansas or the Netherlands – whatever I can’t remember,” said Kenzi, rolling her eyes. “She went on that spirit quest thing.”

“Arizona,” said Dyson with an understanding nod and Kenzi snapped her fingers, reliving the entire ‘It’s too god damn hot there, Bo, I’ll fricken’ melt’ argument they’d had two days before. She almost regretted staying behind now, except not really.

Dyson, still leaning into the bar, looked up at Mattox, eyes dark and hard. “That doesn’t mean she’s not coming back.”

“But she’s not. Here. Now,” said Mattox slowly, not backing down from Dyson’s gaze, which Kenzi found impressive. It was also a testament to how serious the situation was. Without Bo there, no one could actually protect her-

“Then I’ll claim her. Officially,” said Dyson, and Kenzi’s thoughts came to a screeching halt. The triumphant sort of glint in Mattox’s eyes was extinguished and he pulled back slightly. Obvious threat was obvious.

“Dyson…” started Trick warningly, but Dyson didn’t seem to notice. Kenzi waited for the other shoe to drop.

Mattox seemed to read her mind. He straightened back up, but the fire he’d had before was gone, now his voice was cold and monotone. “Then by all means claim her.”

“Can the human say something now?” asked Kenzi, putting as much offense as she could muster into her words. Which was plenty. Mattox rolled his eyes, but Dyson focused his calm stare onto her and for a moment Kenzi thought she might actually get to defend herself.

“No.”

“Dude-!”

“This doesn’t concern you.” said Mattox, the challenge in his voice was still there, directed at Dyson.

“For shit it does!” argued Kenzi. “And I am so not drunk enough for it!”

Dyson leaned into her, lowering his head to speak softly against her ear. “Kenzi, Mattox is a soul eating fae. He takes the souls of humans and fae and leaves them alive.”

“What, like dementors in Harry Potter?!” whispered Kenzi hysterically, eyes widening comically. “That’s fucked up, man.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s the only way.”

Kenzi made a face, pouting, and glanced at the seriously dark expression on Mattox’s face.

“This is gonna suuuuck.” Dyson’s mouth tightened fractionally in agreement. Kenzi was just about to sigh and make some more noise about life sucking but before she could Dyson’s eyes flashed yellow and a low growl vibrated through his chest moments before he aimed for Kenzi’s jugular. She had a split second to frown in confusion when the feeling of teeth tearing skin and warmth leaking into her shirt had her head spinning.

That…that jerk was fricken’ biting her! He had his nasty wolf-y teeth in her neck! White hot sensations that may have been pleasure shot through her core, causing her to arch up and into Dyson’s mouth. She felt his hand settle on the inside of her thigh, his other hand coming around the back of her neck to hold her steady.

And then, it was over. Dyson had moved away from her like lightning, palming a napkin from the bar and wiping her blood off his jaw. Kenzi blinked, her vision fuzzy until time caught up with her.

“Shit, man!” she shrieked, clapping a hand to the side of her neck, feeling wetness there, but no teeth marks and surprisingly no pain. Still, Kenzi lashed out with a booted foot and nailed Dyson in the knee. “Little warning, eh compadre!?”

“Sorry, Kenz,” said Dyson with only the barest of sheepish looks on his face. He shrugged. “Easier if it’s quick.”

Trick, being the great King he was, changed the topic and glared at Mattox. “There. She’s been claimed properly not only by an ally of Bo’s but by Light Fae. Do you yield the challenge?”

Mattox stared long and hard at Dyson, paying neither Trick or Kenzi any mind, but when he answered it was loud and clear. “I yield.”

Kenzi watched Mattox push himself away from the bar, heading to the table he’d been sitting in earlier in the night with a trio of other fae drinking and paying absolutely no attention to what had been transpiring at the bar. Kenzi turned back to Dyson and Trick, releasing a slow breath and flashing her teeth. “Is that gonna happen every time Bo goes out of town?”

Dyson snorted, quirking his fingers at Trick in silent request for a drink. Trick gave him a measured look and nodded, glancing a Kenzi once before turning away. Kenzi reached out and poked Dyson in the shoulder. “Dude?”

“You’ve been claimed properly, Kenzi,” said Dyson gruffly, not meeting her eyes. “Not just a spoken claim or a blood one, but a magical claim.” He sighed. “You’re mine.”

Kenzi blinked once. Twice. And snarled. “There had better be more to that fucking sentence, dog boy.”

“I haven’t had a human claim in a very long time,” Dyson looked sideways at her. “But I think this might work out.”

Kenzi‘s eyes bugged. “Fuck off! You‘re not serious?”

Dyson opened his mouth to answer, and Kenzi had a sinking feeling that it was going to have snark involved in it, when Trick appeared back in front of them, holding the neck of the smashed bottle Kenzi had been drinking not so long ago and a very seriously unhappy-Trick face on.

“Kenzi…please tell me you didn’t drink this?”

“Not all of it….”

“Kenzi, this is-”

Kenzi clapped her hands over her ears before Trick could finish, her eyes slamming shut. “Lalalalala, I don’t want to know.”

Trick sighed and dropped the remnants of fermented nymph blood in the trashcan behind him, shaking his head. Dyson claiming Kenzi was going to be a very bad idea in the long run. Magic claims, claims belonging to individual clans, were permanent and dangerous. It’s why now in the 21st century the fae stuck to contracts and blood oaths. Easy to burn, easy to rewrite. Dyson would have a hell of a time explaining it to Bo, but she’d get over it. Eventually. Maybe.

No…Dyson was fucked.

darkmagic_luvr @ 2012-02-12T16:02:00

2012-02-12T23:02:38Z

I AM ALIVE! I just really haven't had anything to keep me on livejournal for the past few months. Also, my obsession with Naruto has climaxed and I'm starting to come back to Bleach. And I realized I hadn't posted my paperlegends bigbang to fanfiction.net yet and that spiraled into wondering when the next sign-ups were and I just checked and now I'm signed up for this years as well with - you guessed it - Will/Sophia modern AU and it's going to be so magical and so much fun and I can't wait to bother you all about it.

No but seriously. Naruto. Soooo much Naruto. And now Bleach of course. And hopefully Merlin wont let me down.

But yeah. Still alive.

Died my hair black/blue, have bangs, growing it out, Kipp's off at Bootcamp for another month, saw Emilie Autumn last week, seriously considering getting another piercing, and finally...something. probably.

late.

darkmagic_luvr @ 2012-01-04T15:40:00

2012-01-04T22:40:25Z

Oh yeah, well....yeah.

I knoooow, I'm a terrible person. But I'm writing fanfiction!
But it's Naruto fanfiction.
But I've finished other fic!
But I probably wont post it for a while because I'm lazy.

In my defense, I have been so. busy.
sort of.

Mostly watching Naruto and Grey's Anatomy and Fringe and in the last few days writing fanfiction.
Updated Instincts at ff.net, finished a Kenzi/Dyson fic...that's it prettah much.

Got another speeding ticket which really bums me the fuck out. I've really had a crappy six months that I don't want to talk about because I just want to forget it all. I feel like dying my hair and getting something else pierced to make me feel better.

So I work at World Market as I may have mentioned, and there's a girl there who I'm friends with and WE ARE TV SOULMATES. If we'd met over the internet we would stalk each other, ONLY IT'S REAL LIFE AND SHE'S JUST AS SANE AS I AM!
It's a wonderful feeling talking about shows with someone who's open about watching new things and wont critiz what I watch...in real life.
Seriously it's like being on the internet when I'm with her. She watches Sherlock, Primeval, Gery's Anatomy, Fringe, Suits, she's a Joss Whedon fan, she wants to start watching GoT, watches Warehouse 13, Doctor Who, Merlin (but not anymore because she thinks the writers are stupid just like I do and she doens't think Gwen and Arthur have chemistry but she does think Arthur and Morgana and Merlin and Morgana do) and she watches How I Met Your Mother and we're going to watch the new episode of Sherlock on sunday when it comes on and seriously guys. Soul Mate.

...Would anybody actually be interested in reading Naruto fic if I posted it here? I'm planning on posting it to ff.net, but if people are interested I'll post here too.

So...What's going on guys? I have not been on lj for the past month, so tell me pretty things that I should know :D

darkmagic_luvr @ 2011-12-09T11:24:00

2011-12-09T18:24:28Z

I know, I know. It's been awhile, and I'm am still alive. I've just been very busy. I have a new job at World Market and when I'm not there I'm at school which is annoying atm because I'm just auditing this class, and half the time I feel like I should be working for a grade and the other half I just don't want to even bother. blarg.

Got a new tattoo on monday after Shelby and I decided to got to Flag to see snow. We left at like midnight and brought Kipp along. Played in the snow for a bit in the dark then crashed at Shelby's ex-not-boyfriend's house. And by crash I mean stay up until 6 in the morning and sleep until 7:30

But...shark tattoo. :3 happiness.

I'll be back, I promise, it's just tumblr and Grey's Anatomy have been taking up my time. But I'll be back.

late.

darkmagic_luvr @ 2011-11-26T11:08:00

2011-11-26T18:10:02Z

Hungover.
Four hours of sleep.
Working.
Tell you all about it later...

dw/wh13 :: carbon monoxide as I take you home

2011-11-05T07:44:20Z

Title: carbon monoxide as I take you home
Fandom: Doctor Who/Warehouse 13
Pairing: 11/Claudia
Rating: PG-13
Warning: None
Summary: An almost planet full of almost things where an almost relationship is formed.
To: Mel dhfreak
From: Olivia

They were on a beach made of crushed glass; two suns shining off the shards and casting rainbows on their skin. The water was bright acid blue, and the waves eroded the beach, smoking and snapping in time with the tide. The sea breeze stung at their skin and suffocated their lungs, if they hadn’t been wearing masks, that is. It was a beautiful planet. Inhabitable, but beautiful.

Claudia kicked bits of glass off her purple rain boots and shielded her eyes against the glare off the ground. “Planet of Glass and Skin Cancer. What was it called again?”

“It doesn’t get called,” explained the Doctor, squinting up at the sky, watching crosswinds meet and drench the sky in reds and oranges. “People don’t come here and they never will.”

“So why are we here?” asked Claudia, squatting down to watch a glass encrusted almost-could-be-a-crab-if-crabs-had-seven-eyes-and-tails thing as it erupted from the beach.

The Doctor leaned back on his heels and slipped his hands into his pockets. The sleeves he’d rolled up to his elbows fell slightly from the movement. “I’m still trying to impress you.”

Claudia looked up at him, silhouetted by the smaller of the two suns in the sky behind him and the blues and yellows of the planet. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “The TARDIS brought us here, didn’t it?” The Doctor deflated slightly, and Claudia knew she was right. “Do you have like any say in where you get to go?” He ignored her, but pulled his screwdriver out of his pocket and turned it on a few times.

“Fumes are getting lower. The planet could be almost inhabitable in a few hours. C’mon, Donovan, before the tide rolls in.”

Claudia straightened and stretched, feeling her left shoulder pop. Her fingers tingled with chemical heat that much closer to the sky and she quickly dropped them. “Can we start with the forest? I always liked petrified wood.”

“Yes, yes – ah! Don’t forget your friend.” Claudia watched him flounce off, frowning after him.

“My what….?” She trailed off, looking around her person then down, starting a bit to find the almost-crab sitting on the toe of her boot, staring at its reflection (or at least, Claudia thought it looked like that was what it was doing) in the material, his tail wrapped around her ankle for support. Claudia dropped her head back and huffed in exasperation, but let the creature stay and followed carefully after the Doctor.

“What is it?” asked Claudia when she managed to catch up. The Doctor was bent low over a splintered tree, running a purple gloved finger (Thieving thieverson! Thought Claudia in almost outrage, mentally checking her person to recall when he managed to grab her warehouse gloves out of her back pocket) over one of the larger spikes of petrified wood. It sparked on contact with the glove whenever the Doctor moved his finger over it. He ignored her, obviously, because wood that reacted with neutralizing gloves was so much cooler than Claudia. She wanted to grumble, but it sort of was cooler than she was. But not by much.

Instead she pretended to be the Doctor and answered her question for him. “Native genus of the planet, Donovan. It likes you- can’t keep it, health hazard – call him Norman – him? Odd, could be a her, could be genderless, very odd, wonderfully odd-“

“Right on all accounts, Donovan,” interrupted the Doctor, giving her an amused look when she smiled broadly back. “The planet can’t sustain offspring, so what lives here now has probably lived here always, adapting with the changing environment.”

“So there’s an immortal crab-spider-cat sitting on my shoe?” asked Claudia. She shuddered. “I feel like PETA’s going to jump out and throw paint on me.”

“This is fascinating,” said the Doctor as if she hadn’t been speaking, which he sometimes did whenever she would go off on her tangents about things only she seemed to know about – but really, compared to the Doctor she was jester of the fast talk. Claudia snapped back to reality because the Doctor was talking and stroking the petrified tree and making fireworks. “-charged, perhaps even the whole planet! Why purple?”

Claudia shrugged. “Creativity, wisdom, magic. Who knows, maybe they ran out of yellow gloves?”

“No, yellow wouldn’t be nearly as effective,” muttered the Doctor and Claudia rolled her eyes up to the now indigo-chartreuse sky and mouthed ‘why do I even bother?’, hoping maybe someone would give her a decent answer. Then something dawned on her.

“An entire planet can’t be an artifact, can it?” she asked. She snorted. “I- that’s just…extremely avoidable. I mean, a massive charge of human energy infused into the planet after something emotionally and physically devastating to wipe out the population, and everyone knows that quartz makes people see things oh my god the planet’s an artifact and the TARDIS picked up people asking for help, but they weren’t really people and brought us here to fix it, those little sneaks there is no way we have enough goo to neutralize the planet-”

“Hush,” interrupted the Doctor, smirking. He snapped off the purple glove (her purple glove) and pocketed it, straightening up and turning to her. “The planet is not an artifact. The chemicals in the air and soil that have petrified the wood to react to whatever the gloves are made of.”

Claudia looked at him warily. “So no artifact?”

“No artifact.”

“Oh thank god,” shouted Claudia, her body slumping with relief. “I made the TARDIS promise that she would lay off the warehouse crap for at least an episode (“Episode?” asked the Doctor, with a little eyebrow raise. Claudia pressed her finger against his lips briefly for silence.). So, exploring the planet, how great is that going to be?”

The Doctor held his arm out for her to take, which she did so with a small hop and a grin, and the two walked into the petrified forest with Norman clinging to Claudia’s boot like a proper accessory, every step she took shaking bits of glass from it’s body.

It really was beautiful, the forest. It was cooler as well, with every step they took the temperature seemed to drop just a bit until Claudia was shivering and tightening her arm around the Doctor’s, pressing closer to him for warmth. A totally innocent move, he had two hearts, ergo, more body heat, or so Claudia figured.

“So when the fumes decrease so does the temperature,” commented Claudia, pursing her lips together. “I feel like I knew that.”

“We could probably take off our masks,” said the Doctor, but Claudia made no move to do so until he did. The Doctor made a show of taking off his mask and breathing deeply, giving her sideways looks that clearly said ‘stop being such a baby’.

She whacked him in the shoulder, but pulled off her mask with a flourish. Her hair was sticking to her forehead in what she knew was a very attractive sweaty way. They continued on in amused silence, the air become colder as the suns faded on the horizon in wonderful electric blues and oranges until the Doctor glanced down and oh’d softly. “Your friend seems to be dead.”

Claudia looked down sharply and sure enough, Norman was crumbling away, falling apart in glitter. Against the stone of the trees, Norman’s decomposing exterior melted like ice, leaving behind metallic liquid that sizzled and ate into the stone. The Doctor held her still, both of them watching the almost-crab fall apart completely in a pile of glitter on and around Claudia’s purple rain boot.

“I guess purple is somewhat significant,” mumbled Claudia, lifting her foot and shaking off the remains of Norman, stepping closer to the Doctor to get away from the eroding ground until she was pressed against his side.

“The material in your boots is what’s special,” corrected the Doctor. “The fact that they’re purple is irrelevant-“

“Purple is always relevant,” quipped Claudia, grinning and hopping over the small hole in the ground made by the almost-crab. She straightened her shirt and turned back to him. “Can we take a moment to morn poor Norman’s death?”

“Claudia…”

“I mean,” continued Claudia as if the Doctor hadn’t spoke, opening her arms wide. “You said it was possible that Norman is as old as the planet. That’s got to be impressive, I mean it must take years to fossilize a tree-“

“Not so many, actually. But, Claudia-!“

“And now, here lies Norman, nothing more than glitter on the ground, eating away everything in its path.”

“Claudia, duck!” the Doctor leapt over the now considerably larger hole and half-tackled, half-pulled Claudia to the ground before she even had a chance to see what she was ducking from. She oofed as the wind was knocked out of her, her head banging against the ground and the Doctor landing on her chest.

The Doctor’s weight on top of her shifted slightly so he was propped up against her side, his arms braced around her to keep from crushing her. Claudia opened her eyes to see a very brightly colored, scaled winged creature soar over them. The Doctor’s head was twisted around to he could see the almost-pterodactyl circle over them. Claudia didn’t breathe, almost every instinct in her body telling her to lie still while the other one’s were telling her to keep the Doctor for provoking it. Which she knew he was tempted to do. She reached up and grabbed him by the lapels, keeping a firm grip and tugging him down until he would meet her eyes. Above them, a glass shattering scream filled the air, and she didn’t want to know if it was emitting from the almost-pterodactyl or something it found. The Doctor raised an eyebrow at her, their noses very nearly touching.

“Do. Not. Kill us,” hissed Claudia. The Doctor stared at her, very still over her, all of the brilliant curiosity gone from his eyes, replaced by something solemn that Claudia couldn’t read. There was another scream, further away and Claudia let her head fall back against the ground in relief.

“See? It’s all fine,” said the Doctor with a bright grin that poked fun at her anxiety. She halfheartedly glared at him, but his smile was infectious and soon enough she was smiling back and giggling.

The Doctor pushed himself to his feet, reaching out to pull Claudia up as well, dusting themselves off. The Doctor hummed to himself, probably thinking of all the cool things that could inhabit the planet, but as long as he didn’t suggest going after the almost-pterodactyl she would go along with him. The Doctor stepped closer to her to pull a broken piece of stone from her hair and stopped humming. Claudia’s hands were still against her jeans; she could feel him staring and looked up at him. It was all very, very silent between them and, in a snap decision that Claudia wasn’t exactly sure either of them made, stepped into each other‘s personal spaces in the exact same moment. Claudia lifted herself up on her toes and met his mouth with hers and suddenly they were kissing and she was feeling lightheaded and it had nothing to do with the toxins in her lungs.

His hand was in her hair, around the back of her head, keeping her close while is other hand was on her shoulder, his thumb pressing against a place right above her clavicle. It was chaste as kisses go, but this was the Doctor and she was Claudia – the Doctor always had a sort of charged relationship with his companions, Claudia noticed. She noticed it when she met Amy and Martha and in the stories she’d heard about Rose, and especially when Jack was with them for that short time – and they would never work in a million years for some reason that Claudia couldn’t think of at the moment with her lips pressed against the Doctor’s.

Kissing. The Doctor.

She didn’t want to laugh at this, really, but fighting the smile on her face was god damn impossible. And then there was snickering. God, she felt like that episode of Friends where Rachel couldn’t kiss Ross without giggling! But she felt the Doctor’s lips against her quirk and he was smiling too. They broke apart, giggling like children. Claudia brought her hands up to her mouth to stifle them, while the Doctor just pursed his lips to try and look serious.

It didn’t work for either of them.

“No, no, shh,” said Claudia around giggles, pressing her pointer finger against the Doctor’s lips and doing the same to her own mouth with her other hand. “You’re not supposed to giggle, it’s a rule.”

“A rule is it?” asked the Doctor, staring cross eyed at her finger for a moment. “Seems like a silly rule, but most rules are silly aren‘t they? Are you‘re fingernails blue?”

“They glow in the dark!”

“They’re glowing now.” And indeed they were. Claudia hummed thoughtfully and pulled her hands away from the faces they were pressing against respectively. The Doctor grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her into his side, once again linking their arms. “I like this planet. It has character.”

“It’s going to kill us, Doctor,” said Claudia, steering them in the direction of the TARDIS before he tried to take them deeper into the forest. “Everything here is going to kill us. That-that caterpillar thing right there. Totally not here before, I think it spontaneously regenerated from Norman.”

“And what’s wrong with regeneration?”

“It has a scorpion tail!”

“It’s adapting, really Donovan…” the Doctor shook his head in mock reproach. She scoffed playfully at his tone and bumped into him lightly, still attached to his side. The Doctor, grinning, looked back over his shoulder to see that the almost-caterpillar was consuming the acid eroded stone with fuzzy purple feelers. “Call it Rollin.”

Claudia threw her head back and laughed, “So it’s an almost-planet full of almost creatures with almost-awkward names.”

“Precisely. And that’s what we’ll call it.”

Claudia gave him a funny look. “That seems like a very long confusing name for a planet, el Doctor.”

“What? No! Not the almost-planet full of…stuff - just The Almost-Planet. Much easier to remember, much more mysterious, and a bit sexy.”

“It’s all a bit sexy for you isn’t it? Do you ever get tired of being attracted to everything all at once?”

“Not even a bit, Donovan.” The Doctor was smirking and the TARDIS was in sight, radioactively blue against the setting suns reflecting behind it and off the similarly colored ocean water. The Doctor steered her around something that looked almost-dead and snapped his fingers. The TARDIS door swung open, her insides glowing orange and warmth. Claudia turned her head, walking awkwardly with the Doctor until they reached the door. He let her linger outside, looking out at the brilliantly colored planet they were leaving behind for brighter stars and livable atmosphere.

“I think we should go to the 60‘s,” said Claudia thoughtfully, her fingers brushing against the TARDIS door. “I feel very into colors at the moment.”

The Doctor reappeared behind her and hummed thoughtfully, fiddling with something in his hands and not looking at her. “Brilliant, the 60’s. You’re Farnsworth is making that TARDIS sound again.” Claudia looked around and the Doctor held out her Farnsworth for her. She frowned.

“But…we’re not on Earth. How is it working - we‘re not on Earth.”

“Philo did say he made his own two-way with a bit extra, didn’t he?” said the Doctor, referring to their visit to Philo Farnsworth a few weeks ago just after they’d left Jack in Cardiff. Claudia nodded, but still didn’t feel convinced, she was chewing her bottom lip worriedly. The Doctor just smirked and wrapped his hand around her elbow, pulling her sideways into the TARDIS and shutting the door behind them.

“Answer it, Donovan.”

“Yeah, alright, but if it sucks me into an alternate dimensional portal you’re coming after me.” The Doctor pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and smirked against her ear.

“Always, Claudia.”

darkmagic_luvr @ 2011-10-20T13:22:00

2011-10-20T20:22:55Z

I had a dream last night that I was in an epic paint ball war.
James McAvoy was there and we made out.
Also there was Arthur Darvill.
And old people.
And possibly aliens.
And I think it was in sepia.

merlin: the runes on your skin

2011-10-17T05:16:59Z

Title: the runes on your skin
Disclaimer: Merlin is owned by the BBC and other associated parties. I do not make any profit from this story and the plot is purely fiction.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: confusion
Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur hints of Nimueh/Ygraine and Arthur/Morgana
Word Count: 2393
Summary: Merlin is, for once, not sure why something is happening.

Merlin woke up on the ground; face down, sweating and, as usual, stark naked. His first through upon opening his eyes was to close them again immediately because the space under his bed was a terrifying infestation of mold and maybe something dead. Second thought pretty much followed along those same lines: what kind of animal could it be, could Merlin maybe identify it based on memory so he wouldn’t exactly have to check to see if there was something dead, would Gaius be interested in the mold- that sort of thing.

He slammed his head twice on his bedside table when he tried to stand up with his eyes closed, and it wasn’t until he threw open his wardrobe to look for a pair of trousers did he look down at his naked body and be very surprised by what he found. The erection wasn’t really unusual, and the paleness of his skin practically illuminated by the sunlight streaming into his bedroom was an everyday occurrence, but the very think black lines of a tattoo just below his navel was very strange indeed, and if Merlin had been any other person he might have panicked, but he’d lived with magic his whole life and this was hardly the strangest thing that he had woken up to short of turning Will purple for an hour when they were eight.

So clearly the first sounds out of his mouth were, “Huh.”

Curious and frowning thoughtfully, Merlin ran the tip on his finger across the tattoo, feeling the raised edges of black on his skin. He turned his head to an uncomfortable angle to try and get a better look at it and his mouth twisted in thought; because he almost recognized the symbol. It was upside down after all, but the little swoops at the corners and the circle in the middle seemed so familiar it was almost annoying not knowing where he recognized it from.

His musings were short lived because just he when thought he remembered where he’d seen the symbol Gaius opened the door. After an awkward shuffle to cover up exposed genitalia and making a point to not make eye contact, Merlin promptly forgot about the mysteriously appeared tattoo on his stomach and collected his clothes from the floor to get ready for the day.

And it turned out to be a spectacularly shitty day. First and foremost, Arthur seemed to have gone missing, or maybe Merlin was just looking in the right places at the completely wrong times, either way, Merlin couldn’t for the life of him find Arthur. Furthermore, it felt like people were avoiding him, although he still might have been avoiding eye contact with people since Gaius’ unannounced entrance that morning so he couldn’t be sure.

And finally after long last, as Merlin was walking (not skipping or hopping or doing any sort of bouncing in his listless quest for Arthur and chores) down a staircase at the northwest side of the castle he tripped and fell headfirst over Arthur sitting on the stairs. Luckily he was only three stairs away from the floor, so the fall didn’t hurt too badly.

Merlin managed to twist the upper part of his body around so that he could see Arthur, who, without any noticeable injuries or even any mild annoyance to the fact that his servant had tripped over him, was staring at Merlin with an expectant and borderline amused expression on his face.

“Mer-lin,” said Arthur slowly, drawing out the syllables of his name, as was usual.

“Sire,” said Merlin, both excitedly and complete relieved. Then he frowned. “What are you doing on the floor?”

“Same thing as you,” said Arthur with a shrug. “I tripped and never bothered to get back up.”

“That’s - really?” asked Merlin, frowning deeply. “That is not the answer I was expecting.”

“Merlin, what is on your face?” asked Arthur, his eyebrow raising. “I wasn’t going to say anything in case you did it on purpose, but it looks absolutely ridiculous.”

“What does?” asked Merlin, sitting up on the floor and reached for his face, feeling around for any sort of dirt or worse. Arthur’s mouth twisted.

“You’ve got little black symbols all over your skin,” he said, pointing to Merlin’s face, right where his hand was groping around. At the words ‘black symbols’ Merlin froze and very slowly pulled his hand away from his face, turning it over in front of his eyes so he could see that there was indeed the same little symbol repeated over and over across the back of his hand. Arthur continued to question him. “Is it some sort of fashion statement? A cry for help maybe? Like when Gwaine did that thing to his hair?”

“I have to go,” gasped Merlin, scrambling to his feet, tugging on his clothes to cover up as much as possible. He imagined the little marks on his body blossoming over his skin like ink blots on a page and the very idea was terrifying. Arthur stood with him, more smoothly with his cloak draping his frame and grabbed him by the shoulder before he managed to even step away.

“Merlin,” started Arthur, frowning at his friend. “What’s happened? Is this a curse?”

“I don’t know,” huffed Merlin. His heart was racing and his palms were beginning to sweat uncomfortably. “I need to know what the symbol means and-”

“We’ll check with Geoffrey,” interrupted Arthur, clapping Merlin on the shoulder and heading down the hallway. Merlin stared after him, his mouth still open in mid sentence before snapping shut and tripping after him.

“We?”

Arthur snorted. “Of course, idiot. You didn’t think I was going to let get yourself in more trouble did you?”

Merlin didn’t say anything, just followed behind Arthur in silence until they reached the library. Geoffrey took one look at Merlin, raised an eyebrow and pointed to the back of there room and told them to find a roll of parchment with a black wax seal.

“There has to be a hundred here,” muttered Merlin, glaring at the very precisely stacked rolls of parchment. Arthur was staring at the side of Merlin’s face and quickly looked away when Merlin finally noticed. “What?”

“Nothing, just…they’re moving and it’s weird.” Merlin’s hand shot to his face, as if touching the tattoo’s would make it stop. Arthur grabbed his hand and pried it away. “Don’t do that. For all you know it might make it worse.”

“Right,” muttered Merlin, letting the heat from Arthur’s hand calm him for the barest of moments. The irony of Arthur being so level headed about something clearly magical while Merlin was panicking was not lost on him either. Merlin let his vision slip out of focus, his finger groping upwards until they hooked around Arthur’s. There was a strange, dislocated feeling forming behind Merlin’s eyes, suspending the moment until Merlin felt lightheaded from contact with Arthur-

“Merlin!”

Merlin blinked and the moment was broken. Arthur was staring at him, frowning hard, the hand not in Merlin’s was gripping his shoulder tightly, fingers digging into flesh.

“What?” breathed Merlin. Arthur pulled away, his hand slipping out of Merlin’s and falling to his side, the other hand pointing to a script over Merlin’s shoulder.

“You were in a trance,” said Arthur. “I’ve practically been shouting your name for the past minute.”

“Sorry.”

Arthur ignored his apology, but continued pointing over Merlin’s shoulder. When Merlin made no move to even look in that direction, Arthur sighed, rolled his eyes and reached over his shoulder to pull the roll of parchment off the shelf.

“Saw this while you were out of it,” said Arthur offhandedly, breaking the black seal and unrolling it. “It has the same symbol in the wax as the one covering your face.”

“Why didn’t you just open it then?” asked Merlin, eyeing the script warily.

“Because I don’t want to end up with marks on my face, thanks,” Arthur snorted, his eyes scanning the parchment. “It’s directions.”

“To?”

“An old castle on the shore,” muttered Arthur, knitting his brows together. “Abandoned, completely in ruins, but not far,” he was silent for a beat and then straightened and nodded firmly. “I say we go.”

“What?!” Merlin didn’t squawk, he was better than that and he was far too old for his voice to break. “Why…why?”

“Because we’re friends,” said Arthur with a shrug. “And you need help. After all the years we’ve known each other I’ve never had the opportunity to blindly help you with the force and loyalty you’ve had for me and this is my chance. So, Merlin, get the horses ready.”

“Right,” said Merlin breathlessly, blinking quickly because it was dusty and there weren’t tears in his eyes. He turned to leave the library when Arthur’s hand on his arm stopped him. There was a shuffle of fabric and Arthur handed Merlin his cloak, smirking.

“Make sure no one see’s your face. It’s starting to concern me.” Merlin fastened the cloak around his neck and raised the hood, hesitating briefly to frown.

“Why? What’s it’s doing?”

“It’s glowing.”

.

“This is…” Merlin trailed off staring at the crumbled walls and towers of what had once probably been a magnificent castle, overrun with vines and low hanging trees after years of misuse and abandon. Something kindred stirred in Merlin’s chest. “Beautiful.”

“I used to come here when I was younger. Morgana and I would sneak out of the castle and go on adventures here while my father was too busy in his grief and his war to notice.” Merlin stayed silent, unsure what to say after Arthur’s confession and the overwhelming pressure of such a great structure growing closer. They lead their horses through a labyrinth of foliage and stone, Arthur leading with the map opened in his lap.

“I feel like I’ve been here before,” Merlin heard himself saying, staring up at the patches of sky visible through the canopy of green. Arthur glanced over his shoulder at him.

“Really? People generally avoid coming- Merlin.”

“Yeah?”

“Behind you,” said Arthur, staring at a point above Merlin’s head. He twisted his body around and felt his mouth drop open, because carved deeply into the stone structure was the same symbol repeated across Merlin’s skin.

“Arthur…” started Merlin, still gaping at the wall. “What is this place?”

“Before the Great Purge it was part of Camelot,” explained Arthur. “My father’s friend Nimueh resided here with my mother before she and my father married.”

Merlin swung himself down from his horse and slowly made his way to the stone, reaching up as far as he could, his fingers grazing the edge of the carving. The tattoo’s on his skin flared brightly, gold and shimmering.

“Arthur there’s so much magic here,” breathed Merlin. “It’s lingering in the stones and soaked into the soil. It’s in the air and the water and infecting my soul even as we stand here.”

“You’re not making any sense, Merlin,” said Arthur, closer than Merlin had expected. He broke his connection with the carving and spun around, his ankles becoming tangled in the weeds. Arthur was much closer then he expected, so close he didn’t know how he hadn’t felt the heat off of Arthur’s body from behind him.

“I know where I’ve seen this symbol before,” said Merlin, trying not to breath too quickly. “You have things of your mother’s, it’s carved into her jewelry, into your ring.” Arthur looked down and lifted his hand, rotating his wrist to examine the ring on his thumb. There it was, thinly drawn and almost invisible.

“What does it mean?” asked Arthur, still staring down. Merlin shook his head.

“I don’t know. But if it’s something Nimueh and your mother both used-”

Merlin stopped, because just then there was that feeling of disconnect, the same one he had felt it the library. It slammed into him like a punch in the stomach and set him off balance. Arthur looked up at him and before Merlin’s eyes his posture changed, his shoulder’s relaxed, his eyelids dropped and his arms fell limply to his side.

“My mother and Nimueh,” he stated numbly, swallowing thickly. He swayed forward, face too close to Merlin’s and hesitated. “I’ve just realized what you meant, when you said magic was infecting your soul. I’ve felt something like this before when I came here with Morgana. But…we were young and…complicated. And now…”

“It’s still complicated,” murmured Merlin, reaching out to touch Arthur’s skin, his fingertips ghosting across his clavicle. “Arthur-”

“Shut up, Merlin,” breathed Arthur, crushing his mouth over Merlin’s.

The kiss was practiced and consuming and Merlin was overwhelmed by Arthur pressing into him; his tongue, his body, his scent. He felt drunk with magic and Arthur’s body against his own. His fingers darted across a muscled chest and gripped at Arthur’s back while he was pushed back into the stone.

Merlin opened his eyes, blinking wide eyes up at the sky, the sun somewhere behind him casting an orange glow to the clouds and trees above him. The side of his face was pressed against something soft and warm. Merlin moved his eyes to find Arthur lying opposite him, his eyes closed. They were lying in what used to be the courtyard of Nimueh’s castle, the foliage on the ground tucked into them like a blanket.

Merlin looked away from Arthur, staring for a few long moments at the sky, watching it become darker with each passing minute. He raised his hand above him, the sleeve of his tunic falling down his arm. The symbols were gone, the drugged feeling was gone, he felt completely fine. Arthur grunted in his sleep and Merlin turned his head to look at him, his arm fell to his chest and a satisfied smile pulled at his lips.

He was better than fine.

Outtakes:

“Because there’s something wrong with you’re magic and since you have no idea how to fix it we have to quest to find out.”

Merlin gaped and started sputtering. “Ma-ma-magic-”

“You’re a terrible liar and I’m not an idiot,” snapped Arthur, his lips pursed together, making him appear annoyed. But Merlin could see the corners of his mouth twitching. “I’ve been waiting for three years for you to just confess and tell me you have magic.”

“…Oh.”

darkmagic_luvr @ 2011-10-06T15:52:00

2011-10-06T22:52:32Z

Few things. First and most amusing, I have been invited to landofart, and I know a few people on my flist who are part of the comm, so I am considering joining.

Second. Warehouse 13 finale. I won't say anything about it except that I'm waiting until next year to cry. Also, I totally knew that thing about Jinks that he was doing but couldn't tell Claudia about.

Third, Frank Turner concert on Monday. I'm excited, it's gonna be awesome.

And lastly, I was let go of one of my jobs because they had a girl who was friends of the family who wanted a job. Now, I get that they wanted to accomidate for her, but let me make myself very clear: I switched my school schedual around for this resturant. I am paying more money for an education that would have been finished next month instead of next yesr for this resturant. I learned a new menu, hours, made friends and commitments to this resturant and I don't even get two weeks notice that I'm being let go? Whatever. I don't need it.

I'm good.

Caught up with some shows, like Doctor Who, and How I Met Your Mother. Need to start watching the Fades, because Joe Dempsie was in the last episode and I need to stalk him. My brain hasn't been working all week, otherwise I would list more things that I need to do. Seriously, I feel like just sleeping all weekend. I went to bed at 7:30 last night. Crazyness.

darkmagic_luvr @ 2011-09-25T22:17:00

2011-09-26T05:17:58Z

Added three more countries to the 'Where's Olivia From?' game I play in my head bringing the total to 7 with the following:

Italian
Russian*
English
Korean
Swedish
Czechoslovakian
Bosnian

and wrapping them all together was last weeks awesome phrase: "You look European as hell."
*I get Russian a lot.

I usually end the conversation with an awkward "My parents are from Kansas..."

For my new friends who don't know what I look/sound like have an accent meme!

I'm not really that greenish yellow in real life. except I am that pale. and my hair's a little longer.

you're all I've ever wanted dear | I could utter every word you ever hoped to hear

2011-09-25T05:50:46Z

Posting again to make note of a few things. First, changed my header to 11/Claudia, used the same graphic featured on my tumblr.

Also, updated my profile - got rid of the banners for all the land comms I'm not in, replaced it with a Claudia/Professor X graphic, updated fandoms, added a gif.

Planning on posting the fic/graphics I have on my tumblr just in case you want to see them but have no time for tumblr.

Also, planning on starting a Celebrity Dodgeball (as so dubbed by word_never_said), so look out for that.

Haven't seen any of the new shows coming back, but decided Glee is out. Not sure what I'll be watching any time soon, but my life right now is so busy and my head space is not right for television at the moment.

I don't know. I really just don't. I'm having a hard time dealing with life in my head right now....which I think I already said. I just want to write fic and make graphics and watch Becoming Jane until I die.

All I Ever Wanted by Airborne Toxic Event has been playing on repeat for the entire week. It keeps me feeling things and it's the perfect song for my ships right now.

I'm going to think of something to do while I'm on the computer for a few more hours. later.

"Have you ever thought about being happy?" "Yup." "And?" "It pissed me off."

2011-09-25T02:37:17Z

springinstep I got your letter! And I love my Will drawing thank you! I actually got it last Tuesday, but I've been busy and obsessing over Becoming Jane (as you all may know...). But yes, thank you <3

I have a few new friends on my journal, and I really don't feel like making an intro post, so I'll just wait until later. But a few things I will direct you all too:

sinnessjukdom - my personal graphic's journal, which I use mostly for picspams.
the cunning clock - is my tumblr
fromxashes - a graphic journal I post to with dhfreak and chosenfire28

I do use this journal for fic as well as rl posts, and rarely do I f-lock anything, but if I do I usually announce it.

But tumblr is what is hold my attention at present, so if you have one and you didn't know I did, troll about in it <3

I don't have much to say except that I will need a beta for my xoverexchange. I will say what I'm doing, but my assignment is on my flist and it would be awkward if they saw what I was doing for them.

darkmagic_luvr @ 2011-09-22T22:43:00

2011-09-23T05:43:17Z

So I've seen Becoming Jane three times in as many days and it's still physically painful to not watch it. I'm begging my brother to watch it with me so I don't feel like a complete loser if I watch it again. And I am known in my family and close circle of friends for watching things I love many times. I watch a tv show and show it to my friends, watching it up to three times completely. Movies are no different.

But this is different. I haven't watched the same piece of entertainment three times in a row since Game of Thrones, and even then I didn't watch the whole thing, and it was twice in a day and got old fast. But this...

Someone watch it with me. Please? Pretty please? I will make you graphics or write you fic. I...I will come to your house and bake you a cake, just as long as someone watches this movie so I don't feel like a complete loser.

Oh look....*shifty eyes*....incintive...

JAMES MCAVOY LOOKING SEXY AS HELL

ANNE HATHAWAY'S PROFILE BECAUSE IT IS THE LOVELY + SMIRKING AND SWISHY WALKS

EEEEEEEYE SEEEEEEEX

And my Top Four favorite kisses of all time, all in the same movie. The last one is Ron/Hermione in the latest HP movie.

No but seriously someone watch it with me I'm dying. For serious

darkmagic_luvr @ 2011-09-21T11:41:00

2011-09-21T18:42:01Z

my hopes and dreams were crushed when I found out James McAvoy was married.
Watched Becoming Jane and oh lord *fans self* James McAvoy and Anne Hathaway have so much chemistry it's like being hit by a truck whenever they have a scene together.

Can they please have babies in real life?

I can honestly say this has become one of my favorite movies. I almost made me cry. I wanted them to be happy together so badly. And you know that ~~James McAvoy~~ Tom Lefroy was never happy again.

the Doctor should go back in time and make them happy.

okay, now I have to go watch it again. I mean...I wanted to this morning, but now I have to.

nothing is cruler than children who come from good home ¦ god will forgive them i guess

2011-09-19T23:10:00Z

Impromptu trip to Sedona turned into impromptu inking adventure. I have 'No, Virginia...' and Shelby has 'Yes, Virginia...' I'll post pictures when I get home. A lot less pain with this one, more than any of my others.

Skipped school because I'm so tired of my life right now. And I mean like physically tired.

That's it. Later. Children

darkmagic_luvr @ 2011-09-17T17:37:00

2011-09-18T00:37:53Z

jam_pony_fic is doing a fest. Prompting ends tomorrow, so if you're into Dark Angel go request things! GO DO THAT HERE

The Lion King 3D was awesome. Saw it last night. But it would have been better if everyone in the theater had sung along with me. :(

Also, since Harkins is showing certain movies for free in Arizona Shelby and I went to see X-Men First Class. And yes, I agree with everyone. There is much gaying. Between everyone, not just Erik and Charles. Also, James McAvoy is my new favorite.

Tumblr's taken over most of my time, but that's fine, because when I'm not on tumblr I'm working or schooling or driving. I have a project due monday and then research assignment due thursday which I need to do. I'll do it later.

Have to go to work soon. Very close to burning out on life.

darkmagic_luvr @ 2011-09-15T16:22:00

2011-09-15T23:23:00Z

Next year marks the FOURTH round of sncross_bigbang and for the FOURTH time I will be participating! Excitment.

So, fandoms I want to crossover with Supernatural and pairings that I will do.

Firefly - Sam/River...again
Dark Angel - Alec was adopted by John after Dean died and returns to Terminal City blah blah blah something something something else
Lost Girl - Jo and/or Bela centric, the Dal, sex with Dyson and/or Bo
Vampire Diaries - Lenore/Damon/Stephan

Actually, you know what? I think I want to write a sequal to one of my previous BB's. Either the Supernatural/Dark Angel/Firefly one or the Supernatural/Firefly/BSG fusion. I'm leaning toward the spn/ff/bsg fic. It's a while away though, so we'll see.

Almost finished writing the first fic for my xoverexchange assignment. Almost finished plotting out the major fic for that assignment and thinking about writting a few drabbles. Also, there will be art. A picspam maybe, a gif or two. I'm excited and my recipient will love it.