drabbles: Glee, HL, Glee/SN
Title: might I kiss those eyes of fire?
Fandom: Glee
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Lord Byron
Warnings: future!fic; dark
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 175
Point of view: third
Prompt: 'I don't care what you do to them, just be good to me' Lyric taken from Professor Green 'just be good to green' but likely another song to. Do with this what you will.
They keep trophies in a storage locker under Kurt's mother's maiden name. They're all small; a button, a ring, a shoelace. Unnoticeable without the necessary knowledge.
They take turns picking and striking. Only twice have they done it together, and that was their fifth anniversary and a month after Kurt’s magazine got off the ground.
It started out as Kurt’s idea, after McKinley’s jocks went too far and broke two of Blaine’s ribs. He still has a letterman jacket tucked away in the back of the storage locker. Blaine was the only one to figure it out, and he simply kissed Kurt.
The next time Kurt felt the urge, he pulled Blaine to him and whispered, “Give me a name.”
A dozen trophies over ten years. Once a month Kurt goes to the locker and sorts through them, rearranging as he sees fit. Blaine doesn’t need the reminders; he has memories for that. But he indulges Kurt like he always has.
“My turn,” he says, leaning down to kiss Kurt’s pulse. “Give me a name.”
Title: I am older than you, Man.
Fandom: Highlander
Disclaimer: not my character; title from Brian McCabe
Warnings: abstract; primordial!Methos
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 165
Point of view: thirdish
Notes: this started as poem. I’m not really sure what the final product is.
Some things have always been. These things he remembers -
Light, heat, water
Water from the sky, from the earth, from skin and eyes
Pain, pain, pain around and in and through and out
Legs and wings, fingers and claws, fins before all
Old, old, old like a mountain, old like the ocean, old like the wind
Older than you, older than them, older than old
Children but a speck of dust, children buried and burnt
Light, heat, water, pain, swimming walking flying
Language, written and spoken, forgotten
A name before names were, a name no soul knows
Lightning. Blood lightning, sky lightning, lightning tasted and thrown
A throne. A sword and a scepter and a scythe
A pale horse, before horses were
A horse of lightning, and a scythe of lightning,
Swimming walking flying
Older than the dirt beneath his feet
Older than the water
Older than fire and
Older than pain and
Older than time
Questions asked. There is an answer he does not give.
Title: once upon a time
Fandom: Glee/Supernatural
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: spoilers for both series
Pairings: Brittany/Santana
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 100
Point of view: third
Once upon a time, there was a pretty little girl with golden hair and she saw things no one else could, she heard things no one else did, and when the yellow-eyed man visited her dreams, he promised that she’d save the world someday.
When? she asked.
Someday, he said.
So she waited and she grew, and when she was twelve, she watched the yellow-eyed man die.
She still saw things, she still heard things - like angels and demons and the roar of endings, and then -
The cage is shut. We are saved.
She smiled, and kissed Santana, and danced.