comment_fic 556-560: SN/myth, original, Pretender, Heroes, Last Unicorn
ETA: I have no idea why there are double cuts. I also have no idea how to fix it without doing another post. I'm too annoyed at LJ to care.
Title: The truth must dazzle gradually or every man be blind
Fandom: Supernatural/mythology
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Dickinson
Warnings: AU; spoilers for season 5
Pairings: pre-Sam/Gabriel
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 295
Point of view: third
Prompt: Supernatural, Gabriel/Sam, they never found out he was anything other than a Trickster.
They meet up with other tricksters, little guys without much punch. All of them look at their trickster with wary eyes.
Coyote shrugs. "Some of us are more," he says, which doesn't explain a thing. "Me and Loki and Anansi - we're the big boys."
0o0
When Azazel's game almost kills Sam, Coyote yanks him away.
When Sam tries to go after Lilith, Coyote convinces him there isn't a single worse idea in the world.
When some douchebag angel of all things goes after Sammy, Coyote meets him head-on and the angel recoils.
"No mere trickster," the angel hisses, "could have so much power."
And Coyote... he looks cold. Dangerous. And he says, "Hello, Uriel," in a voice neither of the Winchesters has ever heard before.
"I am Coyote," their trickster says, standing in front of them, arms spread like wings. "I am Anansi. I am Loki. These boys are mine."
"No," Uriel murmurs. "It cannot be."
Coyote swings his arms in, hands slamming together in thunderous clap. Uriel howls, wind whipping into a frenzy around him, and when it dies down, the angel is gone.
"Holy fuck," Dean mutters, and Sam gingerly reaches out to touch Coyote's shoulder.
"s'alright," Coyote tells them quietly. "We need to go."
The brothers share a look. Coyote waits, staring into the distance. Dean nods and Sam smiles. "No mere trickster, huh?" Sam says.
Coyote says nothing. Sam uses his grip on Coyote's shoulder to gently turn him, and once their eyes meet, Sam says, "I'll ask again later. Will you answer?"
After a moment, Coyote nods.
"Good," Dean says. "Let's shag ass, get some ground between us and that douchebag."
Coyote smirks. Both Winchesters pretend not to notice how sad it looks, or the shadow of wings arching overhead.
.
Title: could've been, might be, don't look now
original(ish), PG, 85 words
Prompt: Any, any, Death is like sex in high school. If you knew how many times you missed having it, you'd be paralyzed.
Five minutes later on the freeway, it'd be you smashed between the guardrail and the semi.
Eighteen seconds earlier on the elevator, it'd be you falling twenty floors down.
Half an hour longer in the shower, it'd be you with a bullet in the gut when the convenience store robbery goes wrong.
If the rain had been a day sooner, you'd have been the one tossed off when the horse slipped in the mud-maybe you'd have worn a helmet.
Don't think about it, dude.
.
Title: knew I was going to fall and fall, knew in my evil heart I was going to eat it all
Fandom: The Pretender
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Diane Lockward
Warnings: AU; dark&creepy
Pairings: none
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 285
Point of view: third
Prompt: Pretender, Jarod, "I decide who lives or dies"
He remembers when he wasn't like this. Remembers it perfectly, sometimes almost with regret.
one two, tie your shoe
He was just a kid with a good memory. With interesting ideas. And they played a game called "What If?" and he was really good at it. The best.
three four, shut the door
He didn't like it there, the place where they caged him and asked him questions all day. The game changed, to "Maybe?" and "How?" and it was nowhere near as much fun.
five six, pick up sticks
When he was eighteen, one of the men (so many, and he knows their names, he just doesn't care) leaves him an opening any fool could see. He's not a fool, so he takes it, and when he walks out of the building into the sun for the first time, there's bloody footprints following him.
seven eight, slam the gate
The world isn't ready for someone like him. Completely unprepared, and he looks so innocent, so young. Anybody could fall in love with him.
nine ten, begin again
And people on the outside... they're so easy. A smile here, a touch there, and one boy after another follows him home, not noticing the bloody footprints. And they play games like "Doctor" and "Experiment" and they scream so much, so loudly, and he loves it.
They beg and they cry, and he wipes away their tears and kisses their foreheads and he twists the knife just so.
The games are so much more fun outside, and the world is spread wide for the taking.
And he hums a childhood nursery rhyme he never heard till he left as the next boy writhes.
one two, tie your shoe
.
.
Title: Child of the scars of fire
Fandom: Heroes
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Carl Sandburg
Warnings: "I Am Become Death" future!fic
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 220
Point of view: third
Prompt: Heroes, Noah Gray/author's choice, Nightmare Fuel Coloring Book
"Don't worry," Dr. Calson tells her, her very first day on the floor. "You'll get used to it." He gives her an encouraging grin and she tries smiling back.
She doesn't want to be here. She wants to help, she really does, but...
Please, Rebel texts her then, just as her determination is wavering. We need him.
So she takes a deep breath, steels herself, and goes to sit with Noah Gray. Sylar's son.
His father's sins are not his, Angela Petrelli told her. He's a good kid, Peter said. But Bennet summed it up best when he muttered, We need him.
Another deep breath. It's hard not to keep a wary eye out for Sylar, because no one knows where he is, not since he destroyed Costa Verde and only three people survived-Peter, Claire, and Noah. Noah hasn't spoken since. All he does is draw broken watches and mushroom clouds, and a new special is sent to watch him every week. It's her turn for the next seven days.
Dr. Calson says, "He is a very sweet boy. Such a shame." She nods, looking down at Noah, at his shaggy hair and big eyes, at the crayon mushroom cloud exploding from a cracked watch-face.
sylar is scrawled along the outside of the watch-face, and Dr. Calson is smiling.
.
Title: the moon finds mirrors in seas and puddles
Fandom: The Last Unicorn
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Denise Levertov
Warnings: future!fic
Pairings: Schmendrick/Molly
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 125
Point of view: third
Prompt: The Last Unicorn, Schmendrick, endless
He walks and walks and walks. The world changes around him. He buried Molly days ago. (longerlongerlonger, Molly m'love, be at peace)
He recognizes nothing beyond the sky. The trees are different, the road, the dwellings and the people living there. He walks.
He encounters a dream as he walks, such a beauty he hasn't seen in - not since Molly.
Schmendrick, the dream says. I remember you. She tosses her head, horn gleaming. Oh, magician, what's become of you?
His magic is singing. Molly is dead. A dream is walking beside him, and she says, Be at peace, magician. You have walked long enough.
...
Molly greets him at the gate. He can see the ocean in the distance, and pale horses dancing in the waves.