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Title: truths that wake, to perish never
Fandom: X-Men movies
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Wordsworth
Warnings: ignores Days of Future Past
Pairings: John Allerdyce/Bobby Drake
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 170
Point of view: third
Prompt: X-Men (movieverse), John Allerdyce/Bobby Drake, soulmates!AU where your soulmate's name appears on your wrist (or somewhere else on your body) when you turn 18.

John's been with Magneto's crew for three months when Bobby wakes up with Pyro scrawled across the inside of his wrist.

Bobby's been shouting Pyro's name in Pyro's dreams for two weeks, begging him to come back, when Bobby slowly melts its way onto his skin.

Separated by an abyss of poor choices and pride, neither of them says a thing, even when they fight, shooting fire and throwing ice, and when Pyro finally stumbles, the world ending around them --

Bobby carries him out.

(In ten years, when the names have not faded, when Bobby is called Mr. Drake by kids who seem younger than he ever was, when most people have forgotten Pyro ever went by anything else and he's on the run from the world, Bobby will turn around in the bookstore and see Pyro looking at him from across the room, hands tucked into the pockets of a sweatshirt he's too small for, and Pyro will ask, "Is home still there?"

As always, the answer is, "Yes.")

Title: you have not stood up to live
Fandom: Marvel movies
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: post-Cap2
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 140
Point of view: third
Prompt: any Whedonverse. any. when surviving is not enough

He's alive. That's all that can be said, really.


asset soldier you it asset weapon tool toy it you asset

He dreams. He wakes. He walks. He hides.

He breathes.


He does not know who hunts him; he knows someone is. Multiple someones, probably. To reclaim the weapon. To punish the man. To harvest the knowledge he must have.

He will not let them. It is his choice, now. His.


He is alive. He likes sunlight. Does not like cold. Enjoys warm bread and children's laughter. Finds comfort in a stray dog that tucks herself against him one night. Music is pleasing, but so can quiet be. He does not like absolute silence.

He is... living. He will continue to live.


"Do you know who you are?" Steve Rogers asks.

"No," he answers. "But I know who I'm becoming."

Title: the patience of eternity
Fandom: Highlander
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Sandra Cisneros
Warnings: references to bad things
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 275
Point of view: third
Prompt: Any, any/any, Monsters are even more scary when you've seen them afraid.

Joe wonders, sometimes, about how Mac actually sees Methos. It had been such a shock to learn that Adam Pierson, just a kid, helpless like a puppy that hadn't grown into himself yet, was actually Methos, the oldest immortal of all, a legend with so many conflicting stories that not even his own kind believed he existed.

It's a masterful deception. Of course it is. Five thousand years, maybe more...

When he stops to think about, which he tries not to do too often, Joe has to shudder in horror. How Mac can just shrug it off –

When Mac told Joe about the Horsemen, he sounded disgusted, betrayed, furious. Joe honestly wasn’t that surprised.

What they see when they look at Methos is what Methos wants them to see. Joe loves Mac, he really does, but they’re both infants compared to Methos, and judging Methos by any modern standard is futile.

Joe understands the depths a man can sink to, and he knows Mac does, too. Mac’s fought in so many wars… why he’s so harsh on Methos, well, Joe’s got theories but nothing Mac wants to hear, so he keeps them to himself.

Don’t make him an enemy, he wants to say. And, Don’t trust him too much.

Five thousand years… and Methos’ creed: Live. Grow stronger. Fight another day. He knows he can’t possibly see everything, won’t have the time to, and he just wishes that Mac actually understood what he sees when he looks at the lanky kid in the too-big sweatshirt, gulping beer like it’ll be taken away if he stops.

He’s pretty sure Duncan MacLeod will be dead before he ever truly sees.

Title: He would make them die in the desert
Fandom: Highlander
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: references to violence, cannibalism; pre-Highlander
Pairings: Kronos/Methos
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 300
Point of view: third
Prompt: any. any/any. in love or hate, they burn the same

He does not know his age when the god comes to him and says, I could kill you, but I would like to try something new. The god invites him to walk through the desert side-by-side and calls him brother and says, I am Methos. I name you Kronos, and so Kronos he becomes.

They walk and they walk and they walk. They find another god to call brother, one with horses, and so they ride.

They ride and they ride and they ride. They find a fourth god to call brother, one who bathes in the blood of humanity, one who eats their meat, and Silas the horse-tamer laughs, and Methos-who-is-death-but-chose-life smiles, and Kronos welcomes Caspian the bloody to join them.

Kronos speaks for the gods. By their welcome, he becomes a god himself.


It will be a long time, the longest time, before Kronos realizes that he desired Methos' attention and devotion and time because of love.

It will be a long time, the longest time, before he also realizes that he hates his brother just as much.


They spend a thousand years tangled in each other, entwined so tightly, sharing everything. Caspian and Silas are brothers, too, but it is not the same. They are brothers - Kronos and Methos are more. Because they were the first? Kronos will never know.

But Methos is his. Methos has been his since that day in the desert, when Death looked at a nameless boy and gave him a name.


Methos leaves Kronos in the well and Kronos knows his brother loves him for he is still alive.

Methos, in time, will pay dearly for that, and then together they will ride forth once more, the world for the taking, for they are gods and what can stand in their way?

Title: reset
Original, gen, 495 words
any, any, a literal reset button

Throughout her life, skinned knees and barbie dolls, chasing after her big brothers and being ignored or adored in equal measure, watching Mama and Daddy fight and finally Daddy walk out, taking Freddie the oldest with him -- it's always there in the back of her mind. She knows not to talk about it without knowing why. Knows to wait.

Through junior high, through high school, through college, through grad school, deciding on mechanical engineering because it makes sense in a way nothing else does, despite what everyone says about girls and math.

She never tells anyone. Dates Marco and then Angelica, has a fling with Freddie's best friend Vincent, nearly marries Yvette. Daddy tries to make nice and she ignores him, Mama cries that she's got lung cancer.

It's there in the back of her mind, always. Through the pregnancy scare, through losing a promotion to a coworker with a dick even though he's not half as smart as her. Through Mama going downhill so fast, through Tommy's car wreck.

She waits.

Mama dies. At the funeral, she trails her fingers along Mama's cheek, tears on her face, Freddie and Tommy sobbing in each others arms. Freddie's wife is taking care of the children and Tommy will need a leg brace for the rest of his life.

She waits.

This time, the wreck kills Tommy, and almost his pregnant girlfriend, too. Freddie sobs in his wife's arms while the girlfriend sobs in hers.

She waits, and she waits.

So many little things to fix, so many big things. Who is she to decide what is the most important?

Sometimes, she thinks she's crazy. Sometimes, she thinks it's a test from God (except, she doesn't believe in any higher power).

When the virus breaks out, it doesn't make the news, not at first. She's taken a sabbatical from work because she's tired of dealing with dicks who think she's stupid because she doesn't have one. Freddie's oldest has had his first brush with the law. Tommy's girlfriend has decided she doesn't want to be a mom, so Freddie and his wife took their niece in.

The virus spreads. Dozens, hundreds, thousands die. Then they wake up and it is... horrifying.

Finally, she knows what she's been waiting for.

She doesn't tell Freddie goodbye, or the kids. Instead she traces the virus back to its source as far as she can, and she waits until she absolutely can't anymore, and then she closes her eyes.

She's known the words longer than she's known her name, longer than she knew her mother's voice. She's known the words since she was barely a glimmer.

She whispers them as the afflicted surround her, and she opens her eyes to darkness, to weightlessness, to warmth.

The words are there, nestling in the back of a mind that has barely formed. She knows she will not be able to use them again.

She also knows that any child she has might.


king of the jungle
questioning in order to create

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