relationships: SnowFlake Challenge 10

[dragonyphoenix]

Day 10
In your own space, share your love for a trope, cliché, kink, motif, or theme. (Or a few!) Tell us what makes it work for you, and why it appeals to you so much. Talk about what you like to see in fanworks featuring that theme most. Feel free to include recs and examples! Leave a comment in this post saying you did it. Include a link to your post if you feel comfortable doing so.

Hmm, I'd never given this any thought but the stories I return to, time and time again, all contain close relationships, usually romantic but not always.

Cabin Pressure's Martin Crieff dating Tony Stark seems a terribly unlikely relationship but flawed amethyst makes it work in the Seduction By Winglet Series.
He didn't need to text him when they landed. As they walked out of the Arrivals gate, Tony was there waiting, looking hopelessly suave and sophisticated in a suit that probably cost more than GERTI and holding a sign that said, Captain Spitfire. There was a bodyguard hovering just behind him, sending dark glares at the whispering crowd that Tony didn't even seem to notice.

“Martin!” Tony greeted him while Martin blinked and tried to work out some sort of coherent response. “Is it me, or has your gold braid been breeding?”

Martin ignored that with all the practice of someone who had spent far too long with Douglas in the last twelve hours. “What are you doing here?” he asked, then realised how rude that sounded. “I mean – how did you know we were flying in today?” He turned to glare at Douglas. “Did you call him?”

“Sir is mistaken if Sir thinks I am in the habit of arranging sexual liaisons for Sir,” said Douglas.

“Oh, hey David,” said Tony with a vague nod. Douglas looked mortally offended. “It was pretty simple, Martin – I've had Pepper monitoring MJN Air's flights. Unless that comes across as weird and creepy, in which case it was totally just chance that she knew you were coming here. Or that you were in Copenhagen last week.”

************

Coneycat's Housemates series puts Loki in the middle of Being Human. It's a great match because they show him how to be monsters without being monstrous. It's really a delightful series.

"Loki? His name is Loki?" The mortal named George sounded incredulous.

"That's what I said," Annie replied impatiently. "What's the matter?"

"You don't know who Loki is, do you?" George demanded.

"Should I?" Annie said defensively.

"George, perhaps you should just tell her," came the third voice, which belonged to the one named Mitchell. He had a peculiarly lilting accent which sounded quite soothing, unlike the querulous tones of George. George, it seemed, was not to be soothed.

"He landed in the back garden dressed like an extra from Star Wars, his name is Loki, and you still brought him into the house?" George apparently had an irritating habit of talking around a subject without actually saying what he meant. Annie seemed to be used to it.

"Yes, that's why he's in here. What are you going on about?" she asked.

Mitchell had apparently had enough. "Annie, if he's really Loki, he's a Scandinavian trickster god."

"He's a what?"

George pitched in again. "We've been trying to fit into the neighbourhood, and you've got the Norse God of Mischief sitting in the front room eating a ham sandwich!"

Ah. So that was what this was. Loki cast an appreciative look at the foodstuff he was holding. Some of the yellow fluid Annie had smeared on the bread had leaked onto his fingers, and Loki thoughtfully licked it off, savouring the sharp taste. He would give George one more chance to moderate his tone with Annie, and then he was going to find out whether he had enough magic left to transfigure him into something. Perhaps a nice cup of tea.

 ************

In Sands of Time, Giles adopts Xander and turns his life completely around. Lovely twist at the end. Giles makes such a great Dad for Xander. Oooh, which reminds me of the scene where Xander first calls Giles "Dad". Eee!

 

Xander looked at Buffy. "Hey." Oh yeah, that'll do it. She'll forget all about weirdness and secrets now.

"Hey," she repeated. "'Hey, there's a new demon in down wanting to suck out everyone's eyeballs out?' 'Hey, someone's got a fatal disease and only has 6 months to live?' 'Hey, Buffy, you've been walking around with a sign on your back saying, "Please Stake Me"?' What's hey?"

"Um, no, no, and we got it off at lunch." He grinned, grateful when she smiled back. This would be easier if she started off smiling.

"Ah. Good. Being staked would've totally ruined my day. Not to mention what it would've done to my reputation as a slayer."

"And ruined your shirt," he added, giving the article in question a nod. Hands shoved into his jeans pockets, he found himself beginning to rock back on his heels. Space. Need more space.

Maybe if he kept up the inanity long enough, she'd get bored or distracted and go away.

"That too," she agreed readily enough, moving closer and leaning back against one of the library tables. "So we've established what hey isn't..."

"Yeah." He leaned back again, and made himself stop. Surely she'd notice if he tried to keep three feet of space between them. She'd worry, think something was up. Oh, wait, she already did. "So."

Buffy shook her head. "Hey... so..."

"So. Hey." He grinned again, and she shook her head a little, obviously trying not to laugh. His humour left him as he realized that soon, now, she was going to ask.

"Is this conversation going to progress beyond monosyllables?"

"Um, yeah. I think. Maybe -- hey, that was two syllables!" He started to grin and stopped as she just looked at him. Sighing, Xander sat on the edge of the table and didn't quite look at her. "OK, weirdness, right. You probably mean me moving out of my folks' place and in with Giles because I'm tired of my father using me as a punching bag. That weirdness?" He could feel his heart pounding, siren song for any vampire within a dozen miles.

Good thing it was daytime.

Buffy was silent for a few beats. "I'm having a don't know what to say moment."

"OK, good. I'll sit here and pretend I didn't say it."

Another moment or two of silence. "Do you want me to go kick his butt for you?"

Blinking, Xander looked over at her and simply stared for a moment. "Wouldn't that go against the Slayer Code?" He noticed that he wasn't saying no. He opened his mouth to say no, and still didn't say it.

"I'm not sure. I haven't read it all the way through yet. Even if it is, I've never been all that good at following the rules. Especially where my friends are concerned." She slid closer to him, nudging his shoulder with her own.

He glanced over at her, almost afraid to see if she was serious. "I don't think it would help," he finally stammered. He caught a glimpse of Giles behind a bookcase and realized they were listening in, and that made him smile.

************

In Of Old Mystics, Giles rescues Ethan from the Initiative. As they build a new relationship, they learn they are at the center of a prophecy. 

 

It grew harder every day to distinguish the real from the delirium, but he thought he heard a door open and footsteps approaching. Perhaps he was to be allowed one of those infrequent rests from the torture that they sometimes granted him.

"Dear lord."

Eyes closed, Ethan smiled humorlessly. So today it was to be voices that his mind conjured up. Or more accurately, voice, singular – the one that had haunted his dreams long before he'd ended up in this hell. He wondered if the phantom was going to comfort or torment him this time.

The voice continued, full of the power and authority of Ripper at his most glorious. "Get him out of that obscene device now."

Ah. It was to be the valiant rescue fantasy then. As his hallucinations went, this was quite possibly the worst. Try as he might, he could never stop the surge of hope that this was real, that he really was being freed from the torture, and Rupert Giles genuinely cared enough to come for him.

He groaned, and in a voice so rough it sounded alien to his own ears, he said, "Go away, Ripper. 'M not up to this today."

There was a pause. Then Rupert's voice, sounding as if he was swallowing either tears or laughter, came again. "For once in your life, Ethan, stop being so bloody contrary."

Then came a loud snap accompanied by short bursts of pain as the drains piercing his skin were removed. Nausea washed through him as it always did when they came out. That much, at least, felt real. After the chains were also taken away, he turned painfully to his side and curled up. "Not contrary," he muttered. "Just don't take orders from mirages."

There was the creak of springs and the shifting of the mattress as someone sat down beside him. A hand, gentle in a way he hadn't felt in far too long, stroked his face, fingers brushing against his shaven skull.

"I'm not a mirage," Rupert said softly. "I'm here to get you out."

************

In Shade More Than Man, Sirius tries to apologize to Snape before tranforming himself, forever, into his animagus form.

 

"I told you the day before yesterday that you are suffering from Soul-Rot."

"Never heard of it." All he understood was that Snape meant some embarrassingly mental condition.

"Another name for it is Black Grief or Heart's Death." Snape waited for a moment, obviously to see if these names were more familiar to Sirius, then went on. "The afflicted suffer from persistent sadness, waves of uncontrollable fear, intense sense of guilt. Worst of all is that they can't see the difference between reality and the emotions brought about by the disease. They believe themselves inadequate; think they are a burden to their friends and family. They either stop eating properly and slowly wither away, or take their own life in an effort to end the misery, because it seems like the only logical choice they have..." Snape's voice trailed off. He was staring into the fireplace, his face a stiff white mask once again. After a while, he continued. "Such drowning in one's own grief can be precipitated by natural events--for example, a great loss, or a profound shock--or, like in your case, induced magically."

Sirius chewed on this for some time. "Are you saying I'm heartsick? Like some girl?"

Snape glared at him. "I'm saying that the Dementors carved a hole in you through which they sucked all that could have helped you fight them! Self-esteem, happy memories, sense of purpose--everything. Do you remember how you were before Azkaban?"

Young, something sobbed inside him. He didn't reply.

"You were proud. Full of yourself. Happy. Bristling with energy, laughing at everything. Charming those around you whether they wanted to be or not."

************

In Tenebrae, the author Mary Sue's herself into season 5 of Buffy. Doesn't sound appealing, I know, but she's an excellent writer and the story is awesome.
 

Oh my God.  She didn’t speak it, but the words sprang from every pore in a sudden cold sweat.  Trembling, she tore her eyes from the ex-librarian’s face to snatch at a Wicca leaflet sliding off a pile of its sisters on the glass counter.  Turned it over, looking for the address.  A phone number, an unfamiliar street name, and in small sober letters:  Sunnydale, CA.

            Her throat was dry.  “Oh my God,” she uttered.  “I’m in—Sunnydale—”

            “Yes….” the man said, patiently.  Her eyes flew back to him.

            “And you’re…” —she grimaced fearfully up at him, hoping he’d deny it— “Mr. Giles?”

            He frowned, adjusted his glasses to peer at her; and her hope was lost.  “Do I know you?”

            “Of course not,” she said.  And tumbled heavily, awkwardly, into a heap on the floor, her chin narrowly missing the edge of the glass counter as she went down.