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fandomweekly2016-03-24 11:07 am
iluvroadrunner6) wrote in fandomweekly2016-03-24 11:07 am
Entry tags:
[#008] all my cares just drift right into space (teen wolf)
Theme Prompt: #008 - Rooftops
Title: all my cares just drift right into space
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 // Spoilers through the 5B finale.
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 947
Summary: Talking about homework is easier than talking about what happened, talking about La Bete, talking about how it felt to slowly have your sense of identity torn out from under you, and Mason isn’t fully certain if he actually got it back.
“I hate Shakespeare.”
The words cut through the focus of Mason’s thoughts, wandering far, far away to places they shouldn’t go, and he picks his head up from the shingled roof they’re sitting on, glancing over at his best friend as though he’s speaking in a completely different language. He can see the concern in Liam’s eyes under the obvious frustration, a kind of wake up call from the path Liam somehow knew that his best friend’s thoughts were taking, and a way to pull him back on track to what they were supposed to be doing in the first place: homework.
“What?” Mason eventually gives up on trying to put two and two together, pushing himself into more of a sitting position as he tries to see what Liam’s looking at. “It’s not that hard, man. You just have to think.” Talking about homework is easier than talking about what happened, talking about La Bete, talking about how it felt to slowly have your sense of identity torn out from under you, and Mason isn’t fully certain if he actually got it back.
Liam takes the cue for what it is, glancing back down at the sonnets that go on for miles in his textbook, words that might as well be jibberish as far as Liam is concerned, but Mason can understand why. His best friend has always been the kind of guy who speaks plainly, says (or punches) exactly what he feels, and he doesn’t understand why poets can’t do the same.
“I am thinking. I’m thinking that none of these lines make any sense and he should have just put it in English.” He huffs as he passes off the textbook to Mason to take a crack at it, before shaking his head. “Why can’t we just stick with the kind of poetry that rhymes?”
“Because if everything rhymed than we would probably be living in a movie musical. No one wants singing and dancing werewolves, dude.”
Liam huffs a laugh at that, before leaning back against the asphalt shingles and staring up at the stars. It’s a quiet night in Beacon Hills, something Mason is learning is a rarer than any of them ever really think about. Or maybe it isn’t as quiet as he thinks, at least not as far as Liam is concerned. He can’t hear the distant sounds of traffic or the music playing in his neighbor’s room next door. Mason has never been so grateful to be so inherently normal, and that’s something he won’t be looking to change anytime soon.
A moment of silence lapses between them, before Mason closes the textbook and shifts to lean back with him, exhaling slowly. “I’m okay, man.”
“You’re not okay.” Liam states that definitively, without giving Mason room to try and wiggle around it. “You ditched all the old lore books you were reading. You’ve been way too quiet, and Scott and Stiles are starting to think you’re mad at them.”
“I’m not mad.” There’s a pause, as those words come far too quickly, and he lets them settle in the air for a moment. “I … I’m not mad at them. I just … I don’t really know what to say to them.”
“Look, they’re not expecting you to be okay either. You just got possessed by some kind of ancient demon wolf. It’s okay of you’re not … okay.” He states it obviously, even though he knows there’s more to it than that, and Mason nods staring up at the stars again, one hand resting on his chest.
“Yeah, I know. But it’s not that.” Well, it is that. It’s ninety percent that. But that’s not the thing that’s really bothering him. “It’s just … it was so cool when I was all on the outside, you know. I could read about all of these different creatures and people and … it’s easier when you’re on the outside looking in. I could pretend to understand without really … understanding.”
And now, on an all too painful level, he understands. He doesn’t remember much of what Sebastian did while he was using Mason’s body, but he remembers parts of it creeping in. The press of the animalistic mind, the need to hunt, the desire to kill and he can’t help but think if that’s what Liam deals with day in and day out. He doesn’t know how they manage to keep each other on an even keel. How they keep themselves calm. How much will power it must take to not become like Sebastian did.
“So now you get it,” Liam states, again, stating the obvious just so that Mason can hear it. “What’s so wrong with that?”
“I don’t know.” Maybe because it wasn’t him. Maybe because they were someone else’s instincts and they didn’t feel like they were a part of him. “It just feels … different. More real.”
Liam’s quiet for a moment, before shifting to rest one hand behind the back of his head. “You should talk to Stiles. I mean, if you can get Stiles to talk to you.”
Mason frowns as he glances over at him curiously. “Why?”
“He said he was possessed by something once. Maybe he’ll get it better than I can.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” He takes a deep breath, before glancing down at the textbook again. “But right now, we should probably finish our homework.”
Liam groans, before shaking his head. “I still think this would be easier if we could just study limericks.”
Mason grins. “Ignorance is the curse of God, knowledge is the wing wherewith we fly to heaven.”
Liam rolls his eyes before snatching his textbook back. “Shut up.”
Title: all my cares just drift right into space
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 // Spoilers through the 5B finale.
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 947
Summary: Talking about homework is easier than talking about what happened, talking about La Bete, talking about how it felt to slowly have your sense of identity torn out from under you, and Mason isn’t fully certain if he actually got it back.
“I hate Shakespeare.”
The words cut through the focus of Mason’s thoughts, wandering far, far away to places they shouldn’t go, and he picks his head up from the shingled roof they’re sitting on, glancing over at his best friend as though he’s speaking in a completely different language. He can see the concern in Liam’s eyes under the obvious frustration, a kind of wake up call from the path Liam somehow knew that his best friend’s thoughts were taking, and a way to pull him back on track to what they were supposed to be doing in the first place: homework.
“What?” Mason eventually gives up on trying to put two and two together, pushing himself into more of a sitting position as he tries to see what Liam’s looking at. “It’s not that hard, man. You just have to think.” Talking about homework is easier than talking about what happened, talking about La Bete, talking about how it felt to slowly have your sense of identity torn out from under you, and Mason isn’t fully certain if he actually got it back.
Liam takes the cue for what it is, glancing back down at the sonnets that go on for miles in his textbook, words that might as well be jibberish as far as Liam is concerned, but Mason can understand why. His best friend has always been the kind of guy who speaks plainly, says (or punches) exactly what he feels, and he doesn’t understand why poets can’t do the same.
“I am thinking. I’m thinking that none of these lines make any sense and he should have just put it in English.” He huffs as he passes off the textbook to Mason to take a crack at it, before shaking his head. “Why can’t we just stick with the kind of poetry that rhymes?”
“Because if everything rhymed than we would probably be living in a movie musical. No one wants singing and dancing werewolves, dude.”
Liam huffs a laugh at that, before leaning back against the asphalt shingles and staring up at the stars. It’s a quiet night in Beacon Hills, something Mason is learning is a rarer than any of them ever really think about. Or maybe it isn’t as quiet as he thinks, at least not as far as Liam is concerned. He can’t hear the distant sounds of traffic or the music playing in his neighbor’s room next door. Mason has never been so grateful to be so inherently normal, and that’s something he won’t be looking to change anytime soon.
A moment of silence lapses between them, before Mason closes the textbook and shifts to lean back with him, exhaling slowly. “I’m okay, man.”
“You’re not okay.” Liam states that definitively, without giving Mason room to try and wiggle around it. “You ditched all the old lore books you were reading. You’ve been way too quiet, and Scott and Stiles are starting to think you’re mad at them.”
“I’m not mad.” There’s a pause, as those words come far too quickly, and he lets them settle in the air for a moment. “I … I’m not mad at them. I just … I don’t really know what to say to them.”
“Look, they’re not expecting you to be okay either. You just got possessed by some kind of ancient demon wolf. It’s okay of you’re not … okay.” He states it obviously, even though he knows there’s more to it than that, and Mason nods staring up at the stars again, one hand resting on his chest.
“Yeah, I know. But it’s not that.” Well, it is that. It’s ninety percent that. But that’s not the thing that’s really bothering him. “It’s just … it was so cool when I was all on the outside, you know. I could read about all of these different creatures and people and … it’s easier when you’re on the outside looking in. I could pretend to understand without really … understanding.”
And now, on an all too painful level, he understands. He doesn’t remember much of what Sebastian did while he was using Mason’s body, but he remembers parts of it creeping in. The press of the animalistic mind, the need to hunt, the desire to kill and he can’t help but think if that’s what Liam deals with day in and day out. He doesn’t know how they manage to keep each other on an even keel. How they keep themselves calm. How much will power it must take to not become like Sebastian did.
“So now you get it,” Liam states, again, stating the obvious just so that Mason can hear it. “What’s so wrong with that?”
“I don’t know.” Maybe because it wasn’t him. Maybe because they were someone else’s instincts and they didn’t feel like they were a part of him. “It just feels … different. More real.”
Liam’s quiet for a moment, before shifting to rest one hand behind the back of his head. “You should talk to Stiles. I mean, if you can get Stiles to talk to you.”
Mason frowns as he glances over at him curiously. “Why?”
“He said he was possessed by something once. Maybe he’ll get it better than I can.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” He takes a deep breath, before glancing down at the textbook again. “But right now, we should probably finish our homework.”
Liam groans, before shaking his head. “I still think this would be easier if we could just study limericks.”
Mason grins. “Ignorance is the curse of God, knowledge is the wing wherewith we fly to heaven.”
Liam rolls his eyes before snatching his textbook back. “Shut up.”
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