[fanfic] claire/jack/sawyer; bill & jessica; stefan/caroline
Working on these. One ended up too long and since they're more fic-like than meme like I wanted to post them anyway, so here are the first three. Enjoy!
title; rating: ghosts of a different kind; r
fandom, pairing; wordcount: lost, claire/jack/sawyer; 862
notes: five things about claire, jack, & sawyer
ONE.
Claire holds her breath as long as she can under the water before penetrating the surface and swallowing huge mouthfuls of air, sputtering and coughing as she kicks to stay afloat in the dark lake water.
She's sure that if she'd been dreaming, that momentary panic before reaching the crest, the painful lack of oxygen, would have wakened her from any slumber, no matter how deep.
Jack's arms come to wrap around her bare waist when he swims up beside her, his large hands coming to rest at her stomach, lifting her out of the water just a few inches higher, letting her catch her breath a little.
Sawyer looks over from where he relaxes on the dock, a battered paperback in hand. "Everything alright, Mamacita?" he asks.
Claire leans back, resting her head on Jack's shoulder, her face toward the sky. "Perfect," she tells him. "Everything's perfect."
TWO.
For a long time the appeal of ghost stories was lost on Claire. Before the island, during the island, and especially after. But she snuggles with them on the couch some nights, lets Sawyer pick out a horror movie on television, and she threads her fingers through Jacks, slipping her other arm around Sawyer's middle.
The two of them flanking her on either side, she doesn't seem to mind the thought of spooks floating through the old house they share. After all, the three of them are ghosts of a different kind, and she should feel right at home among the dead.
Sawyer grins when she jumps in surprise at something popping out on the screen. He brushes her hair back, kisses her forehead. "Too scary?" he asks.
Claire pulls Jack closer and tightens her grip on Sawyer, leaning into his kiss. "No," she says. "Just enough."
THREE.
Sawyer, though he's always been a man of action, likes to watch.
Claire's blond curls fall down around her shoulders, covering her breasts, and grazing Jack's bare chest when she leans in to kiss him. Jack's callused hands grip his sister's waist, and Sawyer feels a twitch in his cock as he leans in the door frame, watching them with the waning sunlight filtering through the curtains, their bodies connecting and breaking in a way that is both natural and unnatural.
They know he's watching, and hover in slow deliberate movements because of it. Jack can exercise a startling amount of restraint when he wants to, and he runs his hands up Claire's naked back, thrusting up into her as she rocks above him, his movements strong, yet agonizingly slow.
Sawyer makes a gruff sound in his throat when Claire cries out Jack's name, brokenly uttering, "Please."
Jack doesn't want to torture her anymore, and he shifts his body, flipping her over onto the bed and driving into her rough, and the way she wants it.
Sawyer, grins, shakes his head and walks back down the hall, leaving the two siblings alone together.
He's only halfway to the kitchen when he hears them both cry out.
FOUR.
They are not beyond possessiveness.
In town, Claire and Sawyer hold hands -- a couple, a pair, a public spectacle. Jack is the third wheel, the brother, the friend, the loner who doesn't date despite receiving plenty of offers.
They eat at one of the few sit-down restaurants and it's hard for them to fly under the radar in such a small community. Jack is stopped at the bar by a woman that Claire recognizes from the hardware store. She and Sawyer watch as the woman puts a hand over Jack's, whispering something into his ear and making him laugh. Claire is not the jealous type, and sharing Jack is the norm, but her face sets in stone when she watches the woman with too much make-up place a kiss on Jack's cheek and walk away, giving a slight wink as she does.
Later, Sawyer follows him to the bathroom and pushes him into the second stall, latching it behind him. "What're doing out there?" he growls, pressing his body against Jack's until Jack is pinned between the wooden stall and Sawyer.
"Just making smalltalk," Jack says, letting his hands rest on Sawyer's hips.
"Well don't," Sawyer barks, crushing his mouth to Jack's, grabbing him around the neck.
Jack emerges from the bathroom a few minutes after Sawyer and sits next to Claire. She reaches down and puts her hand on his knee, inching up his thigh a distance that could still be considered innocent.
"Let's go home," she says.
FIVE.
Jack lets them make all of the decisions. He spent too long playing the leader, and now he can finally relax in the trust that he has in them. This is a role that didn't necessarily come naturally or easily, but one that he is now comfortable in, putting everything in their hands.
Sawyer says, "Pepperoni and cheese."
Claire says, "I think I'll go back to school."
Sawyer says, "Let it ring."
Claire says, "Kiss me."
Jack doesn't particularly disagree with any one thing. And even when he does, he just lets go -- the one thing he's struggled with all of his life.
He sleeps better now than he ever has.
-fin
title; rating: of fathers and monsters; pg
fandom, pairing; wordcount: true blood, bill, jessica (gen, with some jessica/hoyt); 547
notes: five things about bill & jessica
ONE.
Jessica never did like her father much.
Most teenage girls don't, she suspects, but as we all like to think that we're different and special, she holds the disdain she held for her father in a higher regard than she might the average girl's fatherly hate.
She likes Bill though, she thinks. And even though maybe he's not all that thrilled about being a father figure, she's sure he'll get used to it.
Eventually.
TWO.
So, she kind of has a crush on him.
This don't last for long, but even after it passes, it's hard for her not to look at him with a kind of reverence and childlike admiration.
"Jessica Hamby, I am not a man to be admired!" He will tell her this very matter-of-factly, exclamation point stressed, when he catches her looking at him in this way.
Are so, Bill Compton! Sometimes she says this part out loud, sometimes not. But she is always thinkin' it. No matter if she tries not to.
THREE.
When the law passes, and Jessica finally marries the love of her life -- that'd be Hoyt Fortenberry for those playin' along at home -- Jessica asks Bill to be the one to walk her down the aisle.
She's pretty sure he's doin' whatever the vampire equivalent to blushing is when he tells her that he will gladly take on the responsibility.
"I would be extremely honored," he says.
Jessica giggles, jumping up and down as she does.
"Oh, for Christ's sake," Bill says. (But he's still smiling.)
FOUR.
Jessica only messes up once after that first year.
Bill doesn't get mad or shout at her or even seem too angry. Instead he helps her hide the body, gives her another calm lesson on control and perseverance, even during hard times.
"You'd never suspect you lived through the Great Depression," she jokes, but apologizes when she catches sight of his glare.
"Here, take this," he says, picking up the two shovels leaning against the trunk of a tree and handing her one.
"Thanks, Bill," she says after a moment, digging the blade into the hard earth.
"Yeah," he says, following suit. "Well, you're welcome."
FIVE.
More than anything, Bill Compton taught her how to be human.
In the years that pass until she can no longer count them, she always comes back to that idea. Being a vampire comes easy. Being a killer is instinctual and the hardest thing in her life she's ever had to fight. Without him, she wouldn't have been able to. She would have never had Hoyt. She would have never had a family or people who truly cared for her. Without Bill Compton, she'd have been a monster, plain and simple.
She uses what she learned from him to teach Hoyt, when the time comes. Fact is, she uses it to get through every waking moment.
"They really have thought of everything," Hoyt says, one night, Jessica curled next to him on the couch, a show about singing shark tamers playing on the TV.
"You know," Jessica says absently, not paying attention to Hoyt or the story on the screen. "Bill Compton was not such a bad guy."
Hoyt chuckles a little and kisses her forehead. "No he wasn't, baby. No he wasn't."
-fin
title; rating: battlefields and riverbanks; r
fandom, pairing; wordcount: the vampire diaries; stefan/caroline (mentions of tyler); 468
notes: five things about stefan and caroline; through the coming centuries
ONE.
Stefan lights the match that burns the Salvatore boarding house to the ground. Caroline stands beside him and holds his hand.
Side-by-side, they watch it burn.
TWO.
They bury Tyler together.
Neither of them were there when it happened, and they both curse themselves for finding his body cold, the telling spray of blood across his face.
"He was all alone," is all Caroline can say, placing a bouquet over the mound of fresh dirt -- wolfsbane and vervain bound together.
"Everybody's alone, Caroline," Stefan tells her, taking her into his arms. And even as he says it, Caroline doesn't really believe it. She closes her eyes and doesn't let go of him for a very long time.
THREE.
Caroline kisses him first.
It's been decades, and they're in the middle of a holy supernatural war, and though their colors reveal that they're on different sides, Caroline had thought he was dead.
Both of their faces are marred with dirt and blood, and both of their hearts are heavy with the knowledge that they've been played, like hundreds of thousands of soldiers before them in every war since the beginning of time. Stefan drops the gun he's holding to the ground, the one filled with wood-tipped bullets, and it lands with a thud on the wet, solid earth at his feet.
He never picks it up again.
FOUR.
They like to pretend that they don't know each other. After the wave of knowledge spreads across the world, the earth's religions find some way of covering it up again. Destruction has a very useful way of covering up the truth, and pretty soon there's no one left alive who remembers it. In times like these, their immortality once again becomes something they have to hide.
So they pick a place, a town, somewhere they haven't been before, sometimes even a place that they have. They arrive separately, make friends, start separate lives. Stefan even gets married once, to pass the time.
He fucks Caroline in the back seat of his family car, his wife and step-children sleeping at home.
She takes no care in trying not to mark him, make him bruise, make him bleed.
Secretly, even though she knows that he is hers entirely, she wishes he wouldn't heal.
FIVE.
Stefan kisses her last.
She's in his arms and dying -- the doing of a Lockwood descendant come back to remind them of their past, to seek revenge for some long-buried grudge.
Stefan carries her out to the riverbank and throws both of their rings to the bottom.
"No, Stefan, don't," Caroline pleads with him weakly.
"I've lived a long life," Stefan tells her, brushes back her hair with his thumb. "We've lived a long life." He kisses her then, presses his lips to hers, and waits for day.
-fin
title; rating: ghosts of a different kind; r
fandom, pairing; wordcount: lost, claire/jack/sawyer; 862
notes: five things about claire, jack, & sawyer
ONE.
Claire holds her breath as long as she can under the water before penetrating the surface and swallowing huge mouthfuls of air, sputtering and coughing as she kicks to stay afloat in the dark lake water.
She's sure that if she'd been dreaming, that momentary panic before reaching the crest, the painful lack of oxygen, would have wakened her from any slumber, no matter how deep.
Jack's arms come to wrap around her bare waist when he swims up beside her, his large hands coming to rest at her stomach, lifting her out of the water just a few inches higher, letting her catch her breath a little.
Sawyer looks over from where he relaxes on the dock, a battered paperback in hand. "Everything alright, Mamacita?" he asks.
Claire leans back, resting her head on Jack's shoulder, her face toward the sky. "Perfect," she tells him. "Everything's perfect."
TWO.
For a long time the appeal of ghost stories was lost on Claire. Before the island, during the island, and especially after. But she snuggles with them on the couch some nights, lets Sawyer pick out a horror movie on television, and she threads her fingers through Jacks, slipping her other arm around Sawyer's middle.
The two of them flanking her on either side, she doesn't seem to mind the thought of spooks floating through the old house they share. After all, the three of them are ghosts of a different kind, and she should feel right at home among the dead.
Sawyer grins when she jumps in surprise at something popping out on the screen. He brushes her hair back, kisses her forehead. "Too scary?" he asks.
Claire pulls Jack closer and tightens her grip on Sawyer, leaning into his kiss. "No," she says. "Just enough."
THREE.
Sawyer, though he's always been a man of action, likes to watch.
Claire's blond curls fall down around her shoulders, covering her breasts, and grazing Jack's bare chest when she leans in to kiss him. Jack's callused hands grip his sister's waist, and Sawyer feels a twitch in his cock as he leans in the door frame, watching them with the waning sunlight filtering through the curtains, their bodies connecting and breaking in a way that is both natural and unnatural.
They know he's watching, and hover in slow deliberate movements because of it. Jack can exercise a startling amount of restraint when he wants to, and he runs his hands up Claire's naked back, thrusting up into her as she rocks above him, his movements strong, yet agonizingly slow.
Sawyer makes a gruff sound in his throat when Claire cries out Jack's name, brokenly uttering, "Please."
Jack doesn't want to torture her anymore, and he shifts his body, flipping her over onto the bed and driving into her rough, and the way she wants it.
Sawyer, grins, shakes his head and walks back down the hall, leaving the two siblings alone together.
He's only halfway to the kitchen when he hears them both cry out.
FOUR.
They are not beyond possessiveness.
In town, Claire and Sawyer hold hands -- a couple, a pair, a public spectacle. Jack is the third wheel, the brother, the friend, the loner who doesn't date despite receiving plenty of offers.
They eat at one of the few sit-down restaurants and it's hard for them to fly under the radar in such a small community. Jack is stopped at the bar by a woman that Claire recognizes from the hardware store. She and Sawyer watch as the woman puts a hand over Jack's, whispering something into his ear and making him laugh. Claire is not the jealous type, and sharing Jack is the norm, but her face sets in stone when she watches the woman with too much make-up place a kiss on Jack's cheek and walk away, giving a slight wink as she does.
Later, Sawyer follows him to the bathroom and pushes him into the second stall, latching it behind him. "What're doing out there?" he growls, pressing his body against Jack's until Jack is pinned between the wooden stall and Sawyer.
"Just making smalltalk," Jack says, letting his hands rest on Sawyer's hips.
"Well don't," Sawyer barks, crushing his mouth to Jack's, grabbing him around the neck.
Jack emerges from the bathroom a few minutes after Sawyer and sits next to Claire. She reaches down and puts her hand on his knee, inching up his thigh a distance that could still be considered innocent.
"Let's go home," she says.
FIVE.
Jack lets them make all of the decisions. He spent too long playing the leader, and now he can finally relax in the trust that he has in them. This is a role that didn't necessarily come naturally or easily, but one that he is now comfortable in, putting everything in their hands.
Sawyer says, "Pepperoni and cheese."
Claire says, "I think I'll go back to school."
Sawyer says, "Let it ring."
Claire says, "Kiss me."
Jack doesn't particularly disagree with any one thing. And even when he does, he just lets go -- the one thing he's struggled with all of his life.
He sleeps better now than he ever has.
-fin
title; rating: of fathers and monsters; pg
fandom, pairing; wordcount: true blood, bill, jessica (gen, with some jessica/hoyt); 547
notes: five things about bill & jessica
ONE.
Jessica never did like her father much.
Most teenage girls don't, she suspects, but as we all like to think that we're different and special, she holds the disdain she held for her father in a higher regard than she might the average girl's fatherly hate.
She likes Bill though, she thinks. And even though maybe he's not all that thrilled about being a father figure, she's sure he'll get used to it.
Eventually.
TWO.
So, she kind of has a crush on him.
This don't last for long, but even after it passes, it's hard for her not to look at him with a kind of reverence and childlike admiration.
"Jessica Hamby, I am not a man to be admired!" He will tell her this very matter-of-factly, exclamation point stressed, when he catches her looking at him in this way.
Are so, Bill Compton! Sometimes she says this part out loud, sometimes not. But she is always thinkin' it. No matter if she tries not to.
THREE.
When the law passes, and Jessica finally marries the love of her life -- that'd be Hoyt Fortenberry for those playin' along at home -- Jessica asks Bill to be the one to walk her down the aisle.
She's pretty sure he's doin' whatever the vampire equivalent to blushing is when he tells her that he will gladly take on the responsibility.
"I would be extremely honored," he says.
Jessica giggles, jumping up and down as she does.
"Oh, for Christ's sake," Bill says. (But he's still smiling.)
FOUR.
Jessica only messes up once after that first year.
Bill doesn't get mad or shout at her or even seem too angry. Instead he helps her hide the body, gives her another calm lesson on control and perseverance, even during hard times.
"You'd never suspect you lived through the Great Depression," she jokes, but apologizes when she catches sight of his glare.
"Here, take this," he says, picking up the two shovels leaning against the trunk of a tree and handing her one.
"Thanks, Bill," she says after a moment, digging the blade into the hard earth.
"Yeah," he says, following suit. "Well, you're welcome."
FIVE.
More than anything, Bill Compton taught her how to be human.
In the years that pass until she can no longer count them, she always comes back to that idea. Being a vampire comes easy. Being a killer is instinctual and the hardest thing in her life she's ever had to fight. Without him, she wouldn't have been able to. She would have never had Hoyt. She would have never had a family or people who truly cared for her. Without Bill Compton, she'd have been a monster, plain and simple.
She uses what she learned from him to teach Hoyt, when the time comes. Fact is, she uses it to get through every waking moment.
"They really have thought of everything," Hoyt says, one night, Jessica curled next to him on the couch, a show about singing shark tamers playing on the TV.
"You know," Jessica says absently, not paying attention to Hoyt or the story on the screen. "Bill Compton was not such a bad guy."
Hoyt chuckles a little and kisses her forehead. "No he wasn't, baby. No he wasn't."
-fin
title; rating: battlefields and riverbanks; r
fandom, pairing; wordcount: the vampire diaries; stefan/caroline (mentions of tyler); 468
notes: five things about stefan and caroline; through the coming centuries
ONE.
Stefan lights the match that burns the Salvatore boarding house to the ground. Caroline stands beside him and holds his hand.
Side-by-side, they watch it burn.
TWO.
They bury Tyler together.
Neither of them were there when it happened, and they both curse themselves for finding his body cold, the telling spray of blood across his face.
"He was all alone," is all Caroline can say, placing a bouquet over the mound of fresh dirt -- wolfsbane and vervain bound together.
"Everybody's alone, Caroline," Stefan tells her, taking her into his arms. And even as he says it, Caroline doesn't really believe it. She closes her eyes and doesn't let go of him for a very long time.
THREE.
Caroline kisses him first.
It's been decades, and they're in the middle of a holy supernatural war, and though their colors reveal that they're on different sides, Caroline had thought he was dead.
Both of their faces are marred with dirt and blood, and both of their hearts are heavy with the knowledge that they've been played, like hundreds of thousands of soldiers before them in every war since the beginning of time. Stefan drops the gun he's holding to the ground, the one filled with wood-tipped bullets, and it lands with a thud on the wet, solid earth at his feet.
He never picks it up again.
FOUR.
They like to pretend that they don't know each other. After the wave of knowledge spreads across the world, the earth's religions find some way of covering it up again. Destruction has a very useful way of covering up the truth, and pretty soon there's no one left alive who remembers it. In times like these, their immortality once again becomes something they have to hide.
So they pick a place, a town, somewhere they haven't been before, sometimes even a place that they have. They arrive separately, make friends, start separate lives. Stefan even gets married once, to pass the time.
He fucks Caroline in the back seat of his family car, his wife and step-children sleeping at home.
She takes no care in trying not to mark him, make him bruise, make him bleed.
Secretly, even though she knows that he is hers entirely, she wishes he wouldn't heal.
FIVE.
Stefan kisses her last.
She's in his arms and dying -- the doing of a Lockwood descendant come back to remind them of their past, to seek revenge for some long-buried grudge.
Stefan carries her out to the riverbank and throws both of their rings to the bottom.
"No, Stefan, don't," Caroline pleads with him weakly.
"I've lived a long life," Stefan tells her, brushes back her hair with his thumb. "We've lived a long life." He kisses her then, presses his lips to hers, and waits for day.
-fin