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FIC: Days of Yore
Title: Days of Yore
Authors:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nilchance
Rating: Adult
Pairing: JDM/Misha Collins
A/N: Sequel to If Bird or Devil. Jeff's a dom, and Misha is his boy. Read the first bits first, or this will make no damn sense at all.
Misha dreams crow-black dreams.
****
The pigs dance. He watches from the street, sipping his tea. Waiting.
They go free, these wretched things. They flit and laugh and spurn, and a man can only catch the edge of their skirt before they're gone with a ghost of perfume. He's outlived these games, but they still catch his eyes.
He turns the page of ecclesiastical art, and his fingers smooth the Madonna's chaste white dress.
He chooses his canvas, again and again, imagines the pale of their vertebrae like rosary beads and the sweetness of their tears. He remembers the intoxicating drum of his heart as his last project screamed into the muffling kiss of the gag.
They do not understand. He will make them understand.
Soon, he thinks. Soon.
****
"Wake him," says Aunt Rosemary. "It'll see him."
"It's his initiation," rebukes Aunt Sage. "We all did it."
"Men," Aunt Pepper grumbles, her quick fingers making the needles click. "They're in everything else, they don't need to be in the circle. Oh, what we've come to."
"Stop your damn muttering," Rosemary growls. "This isn't some fool like your husband, it's Mary's boy."
Mary Collins, nee Marigold, holds her son's head in her lap and strokes soothing patterns across his sweating brow. Misha's eyes roll beneath their lids and his back bows, grinding his head back into her legs. He's filthy with ash and sweat, furrows dug beneath his heels. Her son's man ought to be here, but Pepper's right, there's no room for more men in their circle. Particularly not a Morgan. She had to fight hard for Misha to be let in, and it was only softness of heart that allowed it.
Only softness of heart and keen awareness of what would come. That poor girl, skinned and hung. There will be more.
It's war again.
"Don't wake him," Mary says. "He has to get through this alone."
****
Misha dreams crow-black dreams.
Authors:
nilchanceRating: Adult
Pairing: JDM/Misha Collins
A/N: Sequel to If Bird or Devil. Jeff's a dom, and Misha is his boy. Read the first bits first, or this will make no damn sense at all.
Misha dreams crow-black dreams.
****
The pigs dance. He watches from the street, sipping his tea. Waiting.
They go free, these wretched things. They flit and laugh and spurn, and a man can only catch the edge of their skirt before they're gone with a ghost of perfume. He's outlived these games, but they still catch his eyes.
He turns the page of ecclesiastical art, and his fingers smooth the Madonna's chaste white dress.
He chooses his canvas, again and again, imagines the pale of their vertebrae like rosary beads and the sweetness of their tears. He remembers the intoxicating drum of his heart as his last project screamed into the muffling kiss of the gag.
They do not understand. He will make them understand.
Soon, he thinks. Soon.
****
"Wake him," says Aunt Rosemary. "It'll see him."
"It's his initiation," rebukes Aunt Sage. "We all did it."
"Men," Aunt Pepper grumbles, her quick fingers making the needles click. "They're in everything else, they don't need to be in the circle. Oh, what we've come to."
"Stop your damn muttering," Rosemary growls. "This isn't some fool like your husband, it's Mary's boy."
Mary Collins, nee Marigold, holds her son's head in her lap and strokes soothing patterns across his sweating brow. Misha's eyes roll beneath their lids and his back bows, grinding his head back into her legs. He's filthy with ash and sweat, furrows dug beneath his heels. Her son's man ought to be here, but Pepper's right, there's no room for more men in their circle. Particularly not a Morgan. She had to fight hard for Misha to be let in, and it was only softness of heart that allowed it.
Only softness of heart and keen awareness of what would come. That poor girl, skinned and hung. There will be more.
It's war again.
"Don't wake him," Mary says. "He has to get through this alone."
****
Misha dreams crow-black dreams.
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Misha dreams crow-black dreams.
*shivers*
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Damn.
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Thank you verrah much.
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Seems to be getting a little supernatural around here ...
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Thank you!
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Um. o hai. Thank you!
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OH. Ha! Mmm yes, yes. The keyword for it is "kink". Would you believe me if I said I made it (and as usual, that means "cropped")? I forget where the source pic is from, but it's all yours, baby, if you want it.
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And...He chooses his canvas, again and again, imagines the pale of their vertebrae like rosary beads...
Yesss....
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Shiny.
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That made sense to me.
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Thank you so much, and yes, that certainly made sense to me.
things that made me go "hmm..."
And why no men in the circle? If it were men saying no women, they wouldn't like it much...just like any group that gets their -isms flipped back on them. Unless there's solid reasons to exclude them, like the power they're worshipping doesn't like men or something, then it's just a bunch of old biddies being possessive of their status. Like a gentleman's club! *iz amused*
I'm practically cross-eyed with tired right now, but I wanted to try to catch some up on this verse. I love it very much, and fell behind, BOO. I'm impressed with how consistently you're keeping the mood and tone, even when dealing with the more mundane conversations. :)
Re: things that made me go "hmm..."
I think there are no men in the circle because these women, in particular, have no reason to TRUST men. Especially not with the degree of secrecy involved in their circles. But yes, as they age, it does have a lot to do with keeping the elder status they feel they've EARNED. Their line is all male this generation; Misha is the lesser of all evils, and they NEED someone to step up and be in his position. And so he did, and because of the situation with Legion (and worse) Misha wasn't just a witch or a seer; he ended up an Oracle.
I do love the aunts, though, and I deeply want to write little stories about them and their trials and such.
Re: things that made me go "hmm..."
Are you finding old mail, or re-reading and thinking of new stuff you want to say? I find that always happens to me in your verses...I tend to wake up in the middle of the night, mutter "BUT-mumble mumble telly nilly later snores" *rotfl*
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Like
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