Tagged by @tinknevertalks and @sarcasticsciencefictionwriter, thank you <3
The last fictional character in your photo library is the person you gonna sit next to in a 8 hour flight!
I just rewatched "L'art du crime" and made a bunch of screenshots / downloaded a bunch of photos on my phone, so yesss, I would gladly sit next to sunshine personified art historian Florence Chassagne for 8 hours straight, absolutely! Just look at this precious bean:
We would chat away, and I would ask her so many questions about European art, and she would tell me so many stories about artists and paintings, and I would be the most grateful listener. I want to be her friend so badly 😭
Tagging (no pressure) @sailing-the-seven-seas @eagans @wallofville @rebellius @theancientwise @fraqualunque @shroom-kitty
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Tagged by both @tinknevertalks and @samsanalien, thank you!
The last fictional character in your photo library, is the person you gonna sit next to in a 8 hour flight!
Trottie Book from Bookish! (I'm lucky, I was editing pictures to make the red pop, lol). Could be quite fun, I think. She's friendly, she'd probably talk to me, and we'd have stuff to talk about, she has lots of stories. This is also assuming that she's been moved from the 1940s to present day, I guess. XD
No pressure tagging: @tina-mairin-goldstein, @zeldamacgregor, @lanistas, @disguised-as-a-flamingo, @misscrazyfangirl321, @romanaisalive and anyone else that wants to play!
Hey lovely, missed seeing you around these parts! For the made up film game, let's do Amanda Tapping and David Tennant, just for the lolz. 😂
Hey! I missed being around here!
So the song that came up was "Distance" by Christina Perri
Carver Richards is used to his mysterious neighbor Grace asking him for odd favors at random times of day and night. He's lost count of how many weird injuries he's patched up, or how many "I'm so sorry, but I have to be out of town for three months starting today, can you water my plants?" phone calls he's gotten. And, well, maybe he's fallen a bit in love with her, but that's neither here nor there.
Grace Smith is a vampire hunter. She comes from a long line of hunters, the heir of an unbelievable legacy. And yes, she feels bad about all of the favors she asks of her neighbor, but he always seems so willing to help, and she's grown quite... Fond of seeing his face. But how long can she keep him from learning the truth about her, and will she be able to protect him?
(@tinknevertalks no worries, I seriously don't mind at all 💖 And thank you. Sorry for the wait, but I hope the little fic is fun enough to make up for it.)
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ao3
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"A bit ironic, isn't it?" Nikola whispered, his characteristically sharp smile pulled tight by a grimace of pain. "Me, the last remnant of the glorious race of Sanguine vampiris, immortal and nigh unkillable, and yet you've watched me nearly succumb to the eternal finality of mortality far more often than I have you."
"Shut up, Nikola," Helen ground out, trying to stem the flow of the blood that was poring out of the wound from his chest with worrying speed. Her heart squeezed her throat nearly closed and only stubborn anger kept the tears from her eyes.
She couldn't believe she was here again. With Nikola's vampire gene active again she'd thought she'd be safe from this horror. Helen squeezed shut her eyes only to be immediately bombarded with the memory of the last time, -- when his eyes had closed and all that stood between her and a way to save him had been dwindling seconds and the amber prison encasing the sleeping queen.
But there was nothing here for Helen to smash through this time. Nothing she could batter against with all her desperate terror until the purple crystal cracked.
What she needed was to convince the one responsible to undo whatever it was they had done.
"I don't understand," came the very young voice of the rumored phoenix they'd come here to invite to the safety of the Underground Sanctuary. Their appearance was that of a child. Utterly ordinary in all senses except that the golden ringlets of their hair were encircling a face that was shockingly, -- though somewhat hazily, -- familiar to Helen. "I did good, why are you sad?"
Helen swallowed and looked at the abnormal who seemed to have taken on the appearance of a six or seven-year-old version of Helen herself. The abnormal who afterward had taken one look at Nikola, flashed with golden-red light and made him fall to his knees with a hole through his rib cage that wasn't closing the way it should be.
She swallowed, mind racing to find the best words. The abnormal's outer appearance might be a lie but something about the innocence she could see in their eyes made Helen sure that the childish confusion wasn't an act. And she knew how dangerous a juvenile abnormal with truly immeasurable power could be.
She made her voice as gentle as she could, keeping any trace of accusation off its tone. "You... hurt my friend, I--"
"Just friend? Will your cruelty know no end, dear? Your words pierce my heart, I shall henceforth know no joy--" Helen pressed her hands tighter against Nikola's bleeding wound. "--ow. That was uncalled for."
'When we get out of here I'm going to murder you myself,' Helen mouthed without sound and with a less than amused glare, letting Nikola read her lips.
She knew what it was he was trying to do, hoping that flirting obnoxiously would distract her from her worry and fool her into thinking that it wasn't as bad as all this blood was making it look. It didn't work, Nikola visibly couldn't quite keep his head up anymore, and even for a vampire, the pale grayness was getting a bit extreme.
"But he's one of the monsters," the child insisted "I'm supposed to hurt the monsters. I remember that."
"Rude," Nikola muttered.
But Helen barely heard him, her scrambling thoughts had already halted, catching the words of the phoenix as they echoed around them.
"You're supposed to?" she asked, as her mind for a moment finally put aside her fear for Nikola and started working on the mystery of the newest abnormal. "Of course, the phoenix is associated with sunlight, maybe not all the myths were inspired by the vampires spreading false rumors to protect themselves from the humans looking for and maybe finding their true vulnerability. It just wasn't literal sunlight that could harm them."
"Fascinating. But can we please stay on point and get the very nice Tiny Magnus from doing the world the great tragedy of snuffing out the life of Nikola Tesla just as things were starting to look up in his century-long plan to court the heart of one Helen Magnus? I expect great things from this millennia, you know."
The child took a few cautious steps closer to the two of them, suddenly visibly fascinated.
"He's a very weird monster. Usually, the monsters just say that they're going to squish my head or drink all of my blood or--"
"Usually?" Helen caught. "When exactly was the last time you met someone like my friend?"
"I don't know," they rolled their eyes in the exaggerated manner of kids who had only recently learned the power it gave them. "I'm too young to remember time. That's for my Olds. But I think it was lots and lots of Youngs ago."
She exchanged a silent look with Nikola. Apparently, the part of the myth speaking of a phoenix's constant death and rebirth had some grains of truth in it too.
"I see," Helen started out the sentence carefully, hand constricting against Nikola's chest and making him wince again. "Well, this is my friend Nikola. He's an irritating thorn in my side but he isn't here to hurt you or to hurt me; we just came here to ask you if you wanted to come with us to a safe Sanctuary. The... monsters you remember have been gone for a very long time, Nikola is the last one and he's not exactly the same as them. But there are other threats--"
"You're the very last monster?" The child's voice turned pained and Helen saw their eyes filling up with the kind of all-consuming loss that was eternally older than their borrowed face. "I'm the very last one too. It- hurts."
"Yes, well mine turned out to be--"
"Language, Nikola," she interrupted what was sure to be a string of words not meant for the ears of a child, even a very, very ancient one. And Helen couldn't help the way something sharp poked into a raw corner of her heart, -- which she knew would never truly heal, -- because Helen's younger face wasn't that different from what Ashley had looked like as a child and so it was difficult to stay objective in the face of the phoenix's apparent grief.
She opened her mouth to answer when Nikola coughed, blood spraying in a splatter with droplets hitting Helen's face, and she felt the breath freeze in her lungs.
He choked, eyes rolling behind the top of his eyelids and slipping closed as he slumped unconscious.
"No, Nikola!" she gasped in denial, hand flying to his neck, looking for a pulse. She couldn't- couldn't quite find--
Panic hit Helen like a colossal wave, shaking something vital off its axis. She couldn't do this, -- he couldn't do this to her; he couldn't leave her as the last of the Five, to face centuries by herself with no Nikola Tesla there to show up like a bad penny every few decades and drink her wine cellar empty again; or to get her caught up in one of his insane schemes of world domination; or to use that brilliant mind of his to help her with the latest catastrophe; or to tell her he loved her with a quick quip but nothing but the truth behind his eyes.
The last time she'd kissed him Helen thought she was about to die. After, she'd neatly sidestepped it when Nikola had tried to bring it up. Frozen by the same fear that had once, centuries back -- or she supposed it would be more accurate to say, two versions of the same century back -- made her choose John as the safer option.
Because Nikola had always been full of frantic energy, swinging between ideas on wings that never landed from flight. She had misjudged both men so badly back then, blind to both the unhinged possessiveness in John and the true softness Nikola was capable of when not under threat of mockery or cruelty -- the softness he hid behind ego and careless humor.
He was waiting for her the way he'd once waited on those bloody pigeons, completely still, so as not to startle them into flight. Just proving that he was safe. That he could be trusted. That he would not twist their wings or bind their feet.
Of course, the birds didn't have to deal with the smug, self-satisfied heel-face turns that could leave Helen ready to strangle him at any given point in a day. But then, Helen knew herself well enough to know that without them she'd have grown bored in their friendship inside a single decade.
His unpredictability was what made him interesting.
She had kissed him because she'd known she'd regret not doing it. But if he died, Helen would regret--
"Please," she turned to the phoenix "please just let him heal. Whatever you did to him, take it back."
"But--"
"I know you were trying to help, that you saw someone from a species that once enslaved millions and did what you did in self-defense. I do understand. But--"
The child bent their head, something terribly old and alien briefly flickering to awareness in the depths of their eyes.
"Your heart, is that what it looks like when it breaks? I had forgotten."
"Please," she begged again, voice hitching.
The child said nothing but they walked over, dropping on their knees and leaning over to hover with their small palm over the place where Helen's bloodstained hands still tried to press the blood back into Nikola's chest. Reluctantly, Helen withdrew.
There was a surge of something that was a mix of that golden-red light from before and Nikola's own power of electricity.
The child giggled. "Tickles." And pulled back.
At once, Helen took back her spot, feeling something heavy within her straining under threat of crumbling to dust in her arms. She felt one set of her heartbeats pulsing against her eardrum, then another, then--
Nikola gasped in a deep breath of oxygen as the torn skin above his heart knit back together, his eyes and nails growing pitch black as an instinctive growl was let loose from his throat. In her periphery, the phoenix didn't so much as flinch, and some buried corner of Helen's mind wondered if here there was finally the answer to how the combined power of humanity and the abnormals had managed to destroy the terrible empire of Nikola's ancestors.
"Nikola," she said calmly, trying to get him back into the present, and to jar his rational mind back into place.
"Helen," he blinked until his teeth lost most of their sharpness and his eyes regained their stormy blue, a smug grin already sliding into place. "Are those tears for me? I'm touch--"
Dopamine was flooding her system full of relief. And Helen knew she could use it as an excuse for grabbing him by the collar and pulling him forward to smash his lips against hers. For kissing him. Even for the tears that kept running down her cheeks now.
But the truth was she didn't know if she wanted to use an excuse anymore. All that those excuses had ever given her was yet another notch in her list of regrets.
And Helen Magnus already had so many of those.
"I hate you, Nikola Tesla," she ground out as soon as they finally parted. "You are reckless and selfish and I need to change the hiding place for my Cheval Blanc 1947 bottle every other day when you're around, and--"
An exhilarated smile began to rise across Nikola's face with her every word.
"--and if you do that to me again I am going to--"
"Do something absolutely horrid to me. You know I have every faith in you, dear," Nikola interrupted her, softly wiping something from her face -- tears, or the splattering of blood that had come when he'd collapsed, she didn't care, -- his face turned serious as his touch lingered over the side of her face. "I love you too, Doctor Helen Magnus."
Imma be cheeky: When The Blurred Line Breaks and Fobwatch And a Sapphire Stuffed Choker. (I need to know how they end. XD)
*chuckling* I suppose that's fair. I'll give you some hints. ;3
They are both still on my "these will haunt me until I finish the damn things, and I do not consider them abandoned" list. But they are also on my "being very obstinate about the next part, in particular" list, too.
When the Blurred Line Breaks
As you've noted, Helen seems inclined to wake up on the wrong side of the bed. She's certainly been vulnerable in a way she's not used to, not with Nikola, and I don't think either of them know how to navigate that very well. Emotional, snappish conversations, hard to write.
Of course, this piece was always intended to slot into canon, to take them more or less to where we find them in S1 of the actual show. Nikola's borderline antagonism, Helen's wary, exasperated tolerance that turns to something like horror when faced with what he's been up to. So they're not going to end in a good place, I'm afraid, and I think knowing that is also part of what's blocking me from writing the rest, because there's very little that's fun about the rest.
Irritable early morning, a slow, torturous, snowy drive up to the safehouse, and a fraught parting: Nikola asking Helen if she won't consider staying, because he wants her to, and imagine what they could do, just the two of them together with peace and time and a lab, and they just shared something and he can't not ask knowing he likely won't see her for goodness-knows-how-long... Helen feeling a little betrayed that he would ask that in the first place, putting his own selfish desires first, despite knowing what her work means to her... it's perhaps bittersweet, but mostly bitter, in the end. They'll need those years in the interim to reflect a little and mellow out. Helen realizing she was perhaps a little unfair to him, emotionally; Nikola making the extremely misguided decision to impress her with The Monsters and propose a project she certainly can't refuse.(Spoiler alert: she definitely will. xD)
A Fobwatch and a Sapphire-Studded Choker
So, the next chapter is, broadly speaking, a whole fuckton of worldbuilding. In particular, living conditions and the nuances of the vampire society public transportation system, and also Rose and J'aen settling into their new place. The further alienation of J'aen having to give/set "permissions" for Rose for everything. The lovely awkwardness of settling into bed and cuddling with/being cuddled by someone who is... well. Everything J'aen is to Rose. >:3
Obviously the beginning is... intense. Time is pretty dilated, and I'm not quite sure how to transition it from that almost minute-by-minute framing, with small chapter "jumps" in between, to a more measured thing that will likely be necessary for the longer time frame (of at least a few weeks) that I'd envisioned this story taking place over the course of.
J'aen actually works for the big tech company that creates and manufactures those lovely oppressive scanners. So that's gonna be a fun conflict. Rose, meanwhile, more or less left to her own devices as a stay-at-home "bondmate," makes contact with the InRiCol underground - in part because that's what she believes in, in part because that's the only way she sees any possibility of getting the fobwatch back.
Rose has a fuckton to balance, between her obvious personal mission with the fobwatch, her dealings with the InRiCol while trying to stay under the radar, not arousing J'aen's suspicions, and also negotiating the boundaries of her status as "bondmate" and what seems to be expected of her. (And, hrm, maybe she's not actually all that averse to it... But she and the Doctor don't have that kind of relationship. But she also really needs to keep up this charade to be able to get the Doctor back. And she cares about J'aen, too, this gorgeous woman who obviously adores her, and the continued distance from her bondmate for no reason Rose can honestly give her is obviously weighing on her, too...)
I don't really want to spoil the ending, because I do intend to finish it myself! (...someday.) I can assure you that an eventual happy ending is planned.
Hopefully this is enough fodder to let your imagination run wild in the meantime. ;3
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Oooooh, this one sounds interesting: Five times Jack calls Sam ma'am
Thanks for the ask @tinknevertalks ! I haven't actually written anything for this one yet, but I have all five times planned out!
It's inspired by the scene in Fallen where they're being space pilots together. Y'know, this one:
(via @majorsamcarters )
I love that adorable grin and the flirty way he says it! And I started wondering if he'd said similar things before...I'm thinking of a "through the years" sort of thing, starting with season 1 or 2 where Sam is annoyed but charmed against her better judgement, then going through some season 4-7 angst, then probably veering off canon in season 8. Because it's me and I cannot, apparently, stay in canon because ewwww 😂
☕️ + Claire Saffitz and/or Dessert Person videos :)
I am enjoying Claire’s Dessert Person videos! They are definitely not the chaotic energy of the BATK and I think I enjoy those BATK videos more, but she seems so happy and content and that is way more important than anything else.
I’m glad she left BATK and is doing her own thing. I hope wherever she ends up, she’s happy.
But the Dessert Person videos are more like lowkey background videos than the feral, “I-need-to-watch-the-second-it-drops” BATK feelings. I wish Vinny and her crew would chime in more from the background! But that intro theme SLAPS.
