comment_fic 746-750: original, SN, Criminal Minds, HL/Avengers
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Title: much too far out all her life
Fandom: original
Warnings: suicide
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 380
Prompt: Any, any, not waving but drowning
Note: the title is an intentional misquote from "Not Waving, But Drowning" by Stevie Smith, which is also where the prompt came from. Also, shades of "Richard Corey" by Edwin Arlington Robinson.
Helena Callows lived a charmed life. Everyone said so. She was the darling daughter of a world-renowned philanthropist and an award-winning poet, the younger sister of an Olympic gold medalist diver and an up-and-coming movie star. Everything she wanted, she got. Everything she tried, she aced.
Helena Callows smiled at everybody she met. She danced with anyone who asked. She wrote poetry (but never as good as her mother's) and she swam (but never as well as her sister) and she acted (but nowhere near as awesomely as her brother). She made investments, but her father had to bail her out. But she still smiled, and she still danced, and she still planned for the future.
The future. Such an abstract concept, really. Helena Callows was always in the wake of someone else, and was always someone going somewhere, though she didn't know where - Daddy had a spot for her on the PR team, and Mama had a literary agent waiting, and Sandra had all those athletes just waiting to shake her hand, and Darren had so many contacts who were waiting for her call…
But Helena didn't want any of that. She didn't know what she wanted. She didn't want to be in the spotlight, or write, or any of the things her family said she just had to try. But she was someone going somewhere, and she was always on, and she'd just graduated from Yale, and Sandra had another medal, and Darren had his first Oscar nomination, and Daddy's company broke another record, and Mama published another volume -
And Helena was tired. She was so tired, and only twenty-two. She'd felt breathless for years.
She just needed a moment. Just a moment to breathe. Somewhere quiet, somewhere still, somewhere dark.
Helena Callows lived a charmed life. She had everything she wanted, and a bright future. You know her father's name, you've read her mother's book, you watched her sister win a gold, and you saw her brother's movie.
But do you know her? No, you don't.
Because Helena Callows was someone going somewhere, until she went nowhere fast, and broke all their hearts with the bottle of sleeping pills her father had paid for.
Somewhere quiet. Somewhere still. Somewhere dark. She just needed to breathe.
She's not breathing now.
Title: where the west wind goes
Fandom: originalish
Warnings: mentions of mythology and extinctions
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 180
Prompt: Any, any,
A world of made
is not a world of born
There is a place, somewhere, out in the deepest dark, of magic. That's where the dragons went, and the unicorns, and Pegasus after the Olympians died, and the thunderbirds when the West was won, and the kraken, slick with oil, and Nessie once the tourists came, and everything else that is legend now but once was real.
Real for a given value of real. Real with no bones to show for it, with no blood left drying, with horses running free, and birds flying high, and monsters at the bottom of the sea that aren't at all what we thought they'd be.
There is a place, somewhere, out in the deepest dark, of dream. You can fly there, head thrown back and wings wide. You can sing. There are dragons, and unicorns, and even giant sloths, and megalodons, everything that once was but isn't anymore.
We are the real world. We are awake. You've never seen a dragon, or touched a unicorn, or swam around a kraken and laughed at his jokes.
Can you blame me for wanting to sleep?
Title: Satan smitten with amazement fell
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Milton
Warnings: AU early in season 5
Pairings: implied Lucifer/Michael
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 365
Point of view: third
Prompt: Supernatural, Gabriel+Lucifer, Gabriel offers his big brother some surprisingly helpful relationship advice
"You know," he says, pausing to throw back a mouthful of whiskey, and then looking up at his big brother to continue, "burning this fucked up rock is not the best way to get Mikey's attention."
Lucifer's eyes burn at him, vessel's hands clenched, and oh, the ache is so sharp, how much Gabriel misses his brothers, flying together in the cosmos, when everything was new, when there were only four of them, back before. Lucifer's eyes burn, and Gabriel can see the end of things in them, but his oldest brother's voice is so soft, so gentle, when he asks, "And what would the right way be?"
Gabriel doesn't believe in happy endings anymore. Not since Dad left without looking back. And he's pretty sure Lucifer's about to kill him anyway, here in this dive bar full of corpses, because they were human and in the way.
But he misses his brothers. So he says, "I know that Michael should have chosen you. And I know he's sorry he didn't. But all he has now is Dad's final orders, and he's determined to obey." Gabriel laughs, a little sad and a lot bitter. "He thinks it'll bring Dad home."
Lucifer just looks at him. Gabriel throws back another mouthful of whiskey, sets down the glass, and squares his shoulders. He says, "You're following the script Dad left. The way to get Mikey's attention? Throw it out and do things your way."
The fire in Lucifer's eyes banks and he tilts his head. Gabriel has never been afraid of any of his brothers (only three are an actual credible threat, the only three older than him) but waiting to see what Lucifer will do - cloaked in the ether, his wings tremble.
"I'll think about your advice, little brother," Lucifer says. "And I'll be in touch."
Gabriel blinks and Lucifer's gone. He collapses on his stool, looking around at the carnage. He blinks again and they're all alive, the little humans without a clue.
He should probably go check on the Winchesters. If Lucifer's about to throw out the script… well. That douche Zach will do something stupid, without a doubt.
But first, he really could use some more whiskey.
Title: in the wet mild wind they swing toward spring
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Denise Levertov
Warnings: AU; blood and violence
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 245
Point of view: third
Prompt: Criminal Minds, Reid, trigger-happy
In another world, Spencer controlled his temper, became both a doctor and a federal agent, and saved a lot of lives.
But in this world, Spencer got away with murder.
.
There's a list in Spencer's head. He never writes it down, or mentions it to anyone. It's not alphabetical in any way, or numerical. It's not scientific.
It's actually based on a song his mother used to sing him. She made the song up; it's not on the internet, or the radio, or anywhere anyone else can ever hear it.
And Spencer never uses the same method twice in a row, or even within three hundred miles of another kill. So. No way to connect them.
In this world, not that world, Spencer gets away with murder a lot.
.
In this world, Spencer is a writer. It's a good cover for why he travels so much. He received a large settlement from the facility that let his mother die, so he doesn't need to work. He got kicked out of school when he was ten, already smarter than every other person there combined, and he slipped through the cracks after that.
But he's happy, humming an old lullaby no one else knows and slipping a sharp blade through this week's kill's ribs.
.
In another world, Spencer caught killers.
In this world, he's a killer no one even knows to look for.
He's just waiting for someone to notice, because that's when it'll get fun.
Title: You drive an angel from your door
Fandom: Avengers/Highlander
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from William Blake
Warnings: post-Avengers; primordial!Methos; mentions of violence/gore
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 820
Point of view: third
Prompt: Avengers/Highlander, Odin + Methos, villains are those who oppose you
Note: Valföðr means father of the slain
"Hullo, Valföðr," the stranger says, slouched in Odin's throne.
Nothing has been disturbed. No alarm has been raised. And yet there is a stranger in Odin's throne, and his fingers are splayed across Gungnir.
"Well met, stranger," Odin says, readying himself for whatever move he makes. "Who are you and how came you to be here?"
The stranger laughs. "You'd think language and culture would move with the times, Valföðr," the stranger sneers. "But you and yours are still stuck a thousand years ago. Explains the boy, at least."
Odin does not react, cannot. If this man is here for Loki... "Who are you?" Odin demands, every inch the king he has been since time immemorial. He is the All-Father, the most powerful warrior and sorcerer in nine realms.
(Lie, whispers a voice in the back of his mind. It sounds like Loki.)
"Who I am is of no consequence," the stranger snarls, lunging to his feet, fingers clenched around Gungnir. "What I can do is far more important, little king of petty children."
Odin's eyes widen. "How dare you come here!" he thunders, flinging his most powerful, dangerous spell at the man's face.
It hits the man dead-center and he doesn't react at all. "You should know better," the man says, calm and cold. Odin shudders; he remembers this man, remembers blood soaking into the ground, remembers a command that reverberated in his bones.
"You stole a child and raised him to hate himself," the man says, stalking down the stairs towards Odin. "You denied him when he needed you most, lied to him in every memory he has of you, and did not search when he fell into the void." Gungnir flashes, power building, and Odin tries to prepare a shield, but he cannot do anything except listen. "You let your All-Seeing Gatekeeper withhold information, told your firstborn half-truths to stoke his betrayed and despairing rage, and threw the child you stole into a cage without even asking why he'd done anything."
Gungnir rests against Odin's heart and he looks into the stranger's eyes. "So tell me, little king," the stranger croons gently, a blood-curdling lullaby, "what should I do with you?"
"I have done my best," Odin says, as strongly as he can.
The stranger laughs. Gungnir pulses and brilliant light flashes, and Odin screams -
He comes to on the floor of his throne room, Thor and his guards asking what has happened, if he's alright.
"Loki," Odin gasps, holding his chest. His heart aches. "Check on Loki, he came for Loki -"
Of course, Loki is gone. So is Gungnir, and Sleipnir, and so is Mjölnir, whenever Thor thinks to call it next.
"Father, what happened?" Thor asks, standing in Loki's empty cage.
Odin closes his eye, feeling so very old, and replies, "I made a grave error, Thor. And an enemy."
(Two enemies, little king, a voice whispers, as cold and dark as the void. Well done, Valföðr.)
"Will Loki… is Loki safe?" Thor asks hesitantly. "Is Midgardr?"
Odin flinches. Every accusation the stranger made… if Odin can rectify those that can be rectified… "We must speak to Heimdallr," Odin says. "Come, Thor."
.
When Odin was young, having just ascended his father's throne, he fought a foolish war. It is not in any song, or history, or story told in Asgardr. It exists only in Odin's memory; he is the oldest in Asgardr. No one else still living was there to witness how he fell to his knees before his enemy. How he pled for his life. How he swore anything in his power, if only he survived.
His enemy laughed, and sliced Odin's cheek with the sharpest blade in nine realms. His enemy let him live, with a single command: raise the child well, little king.
Odin did not know which child, or why, or when.
By the time he found an infant in a temple on Jotunheimr, he had long since forgotten.
.
"What is your greatest desire?" Adam asks Loki.
"Thanos," Loki answers. "Thanos with his guts spilling on the dirt. His heart in my hand. His eyes, staring unseeing at the stars."
Adam laughs. "He seeks Death, doesn't he?"
Loki nods. "Thanos hopes to woo Death with the charred remnants of a thousand worlds."
When Adam finally controls his laughter, he says, "Then let him meet Death, boyo. I assure you - he won't regret the meeting for long."
Loki smiles at him, madder than a hatter, and Adam wishes he'd acted sooner.
But wishes are horses, and Death does ride, and their first stop is Thanos.
Their last stop will be Asgardr, and Odin will be king of all those slain.
.
There was one command given, on a bloodied field.
There was one command ignored, in golden halls.
The greatest villain is the one created by the hero's hand.
On a thousand worlds, the greatest villain of all is Death.
Death's fine with that.
.
.
Title: much too far out all her life
Fandom: original
Warnings: suicide
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 380
Prompt: Any, any, not waving but drowning
Note: the title is an intentional misquote from "Not Waving, But Drowning" by Stevie Smith, which is also where the prompt came from. Also, shades of "Richard Corey" by Edwin Arlington Robinson.
Helena Callows lived a charmed life. Everyone said so. She was the darling daughter of a world-renowned philanthropist and an award-winning poet, the younger sister of an Olympic gold medalist diver and an up-and-coming movie star. Everything she wanted, she got. Everything she tried, she aced.
Helena Callows smiled at everybody she met. She danced with anyone who asked. She wrote poetry (but never as good as her mother's) and she swam (but never as well as her sister) and she acted (but nowhere near as awesomely as her brother). She made investments, but her father had to bail her out. But she still smiled, and she still danced, and she still planned for the future.
The future. Such an abstract concept, really. Helena Callows was always in the wake of someone else, and was always someone going somewhere, though she didn't know where - Daddy had a spot for her on the PR team, and Mama had a literary agent waiting, and Sandra had all those athletes just waiting to shake her hand, and Darren had so many contacts who were waiting for her call…
But Helena didn't want any of that. She didn't know what she wanted. She didn't want to be in the spotlight, or write, or any of the things her family said she just had to try. But she was someone going somewhere, and she was always on, and she'd just graduated from Yale, and Sandra had another medal, and Darren had his first Oscar nomination, and Daddy's company broke another record, and Mama published another volume -
And Helena was tired. She was so tired, and only twenty-two. She'd felt breathless for years.
She just needed a moment. Just a moment to breathe. Somewhere quiet, somewhere still, somewhere dark.
Helena Callows lived a charmed life. She had everything she wanted, and a bright future. You know her father's name, you've read her mother's book, you watched her sister win a gold, and you saw her brother's movie.
But do you know her? No, you don't.
Because Helena Callows was someone going somewhere, until she went nowhere fast, and broke all their hearts with the bottle of sleeping pills her father had paid for.
Somewhere quiet. Somewhere still. Somewhere dark. She just needed to breathe.
She's not breathing now.
Title: where the west wind goes
Fandom: originalish
Warnings: mentions of mythology and extinctions
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 180
Prompt: Any, any,
A world of made
is not a world of born
There is a place, somewhere, out in the deepest dark, of magic. That's where the dragons went, and the unicorns, and Pegasus after the Olympians died, and the thunderbirds when the West was won, and the kraken, slick with oil, and Nessie once the tourists came, and everything else that is legend now but once was real.
Real for a given value of real. Real with no bones to show for it, with no blood left drying, with horses running free, and birds flying high, and monsters at the bottom of the sea that aren't at all what we thought they'd be.
There is a place, somewhere, out in the deepest dark, of dream. You can fly there, head thrown back and wings wide. You can sing. There are dragons, and unicorns, and even giant sloths, and megalodons, everything that once was but isn't anymore.
We are the real world. We are awake. You've never seen a dragon, or touched a unicorn, or swam around a kraken and laughed at his jokes.
Can you blame me for wanting to sleep?
Title: Satan smitten with amazement fell
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Milton
Warnings: AU early in season 5
Pairings: implied Lucifer/Michael
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 365
Point of view: third
Prompt: Supernatural, Gabriel+Lucifer, Gabriel offers his big brother some surprisingly helpful relationship advice
"You know," he says, pausing to throw back a mouthful of whiskey, and then looking up at his big brother to continue, "burning this fucked up rock is not the best way to get Mikey's attention."
Lucifer's eyes burn at him, vessel's hands clenched, and oh, the ache is so sharp, how much Gabriel misses his brothers, flying together in the cosmos, when everything was new, when there were only four of them, back before. Lucifer's eyes burn, and Gabriel can see the end of things in them, but his oldest brother's voice is so soft, so gentle, when he asks, "And what would the right way be?"
Gabriel doesn't believe in happy endings anymore. Not since Dad left without looking back. And he's pretty sure Lucifer's about to kill him anyway, here in this dive bar full of corpses, because they were human and in the way.
But he misses his brothers. So he says, "I know that Michael should have chosen you. And I know he's sorry he didn't. But all he has now is Dad's final orders, and he's determined to obey." Gabriel laughs, a little sad and a lot bitter. "He thinks it'll bring Dad home."
Lucifer just looks at him. Gabriel throws back another mouthful of whiskey, sets down the glass, and squares his shoulders. He says, "You're following the script Dad left. The way to get Mikey's attention? Throw it out and do things your way."
The fire in Lucifer's eyes banks and he tilts his head. Gabriel has never been afraid of any of his brothers (only three are an actual credible threat, the only three older than him) but waiting to see what Lucifer will do - cloaked in the ether, his wings tremble.
"I'll think about your advice, little brother," Lucifer says. "And I'll be in touch."
Gabriel blinks and Lucifer's gone. He collapses on his stool, looking around at the carnage. He blinks again and they're all alive, the little humans without a clue.
He should probably go check on the Winchesters. If Lucifer's about to throw out the script… well. That douche Zach will do something stupid, without a doubt.
But first, he really could use some more whiskey.
Title: in the wet mild wind they swing toward spring
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Denise Levertov
Warnings: AU; blood and violence
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 245
Point of view: third
Prompt: Criminal Minds, Reid, trigger-happy
In another world, Spencer controlled his temper, became both a doctor and a federal agent, and saved a lot of lives.
But in this world, Spencer got away with murder.
.
There's a list in Spencer's head. He never writes it down, or mentions it to anyone. It's not alphabetical in any way, or numerical. It's not scientific.
It's actually based on a song his mother used to sing him. She made the song up; it's not on the internet, or the radio, or anywhere anyone else can ever hear it.
And Spencer never uses the same method twice in a row, or even within three hundred miles of another kill. So. No way to connect them.
In this world, not that world, Spencer gets away with murder a lot.
.
In this world, Spencer is a writer. It's a good cover for why he travels so much. He received a large settlement from the facility that let his mother die, so he doesn't need to work. He got kicked out of school when he was ten, already smarter than every other person there combined, and he slipped through the cracks after that.
But he's happy, humming an old lullaby no one else knows and slipping a sharp blade through this week's kill's ribs.
.
In another world, Spencer caught killers.
In this world, he's a killer no one even knows to look for.
He's just waiting for someone to notice, because that's when it'll get fun.
Title: You drive an angel from your door
Fandom: Avengers/Highlander
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from William Blake
Warnings: post-Avengers; primordial!Methos; mentions of violence/gore
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 820
Point of view: third
Prompt: Avengers/Highlander, Odin + Methos, villains are those who oppose you
Note: Valföðr means father of the slain
"Hullo, Valföðr," the stranger says, slouched in Odin's throne.
Nothing has been disturbed. No alarm has been raised. And yet there is a stranger in Odin's throne, and his fingers are splayed across Gungnir.
"Well met, stranger," Odin says, readying himself for whatever move he makes. "Who are you and how came you to be here?"
The stranger laughs. "You'd think language and culture would move with the times, Valföðr," the stranger sneers. "But you and yours are still stuck a thousand years ago. Explains the boy, at least."
Odin does not react, cannot. If this man is here for Loki... "Who are you?" Odin demands, every inch the king he has been since time immemorial. He is the All-Father, the most powerful warrior and sorcerer in nine realms.
(Lie, whispers a voice in the back of his mind. It sounds like Loki.)
"Who I am is of no consequence," the stranger snarls, lunging to his feet, fingers clenched around Gungnir. "What I can do is far more important, little king of petty children."
Odin's eyes widen. "How dare you come here!" he thunders, flinging his most powerful, dangerous spell at the man's face.
It hits the man dead-center and he doesn't react at all. "You should know better," the man says, calm and cold. Odin shudders; he remembers this man, remembers blood soaking into the ground, remembers a command that reverberated in his bones.
"You stole a child and raised him to hate himself," the man says, stalking down the stairs towards Odin. "You denied him when he needed you most, lied to him in every memory he has of you, and did not search when he fell into the void." Gungnir flashes, power building, and Odin tries to prepare a shield, but he cannot do anything except listen. "You let your All-Seeing Gatekeeper withhold information, told your firstborn half-truths to stoke his betrayed and despairing rage, and threw the child you stole into a cage without even asking why he'd done anything."
Gungnir rests against Odin's heart and he looks into the stranger's eyes. "So tell me, little king," the stranger croons gently, a blood-curdling lullaby, "what should I do with you?"
"I have done my best," Odin says, as strongly as he can.
The stranger laughs. Gungnir pulses and brilliant light flashes, and Odin screams -
He comes to on the floor of his throne room, Thor and his guards asking what has happened, if he's alright.
"Loki," Odin gasps, holding his chest. His heart aches. "Check on Loki, he came for Loki -"
Of course, Loki is gone. So is Gungnir, and Sleipnir, and so is Mjölnir, whenever Thor thinks to call it next.
"Father, what happened?" Thor asks, standing in Loki's empty cage.
Odin closes his eye, feeling so very old, and replies, "I made a grave error, Thor. And an enemy."
(Two enemies, little king, a voice whispers, as cold and dark as the void. Well done, Valföðr.)
"Will Loki… is Loki safe?" Thor asks hesitantly. "Is Midgardr?"
Odin flinches. Every accusation the stranger made… if Odin can rectify those that can be rectified… "We must speak to Heimdallr," Odin says. "Come, Thor."
.
When Odin was young, having just ascended his father's throne, he fought a foolish war. It is not in any song, or history, or story told in Asgardr. It exists only in Odin's memory; he is the oldest in Asgardr. No one else still living was there to witness how he fell to his knees before his enemy. How he pled for his life. How he swore anything in his power, if only he survived.
His enemy laughed, and sliced Odin's cheek with the sharpest blade in nine realms. His enemy let him live, with a single command: raise the child well, little king.
Odin did not know which child, or why, or when.
By the time he found an infant in a temple on Jotunheimr, he had long since forgotten.
.
"What is your greatest desire?" Adam asks Loki.
"Thanos," Loki answers. "Thanos with his guts spilling on the dirt. His heart in my hand. His eyes, staring unseeing at the stars."
Adam laughs. "He seeks Death, doesn't he?"
Loki nods. "Thanos hopes to woo Death with the charred remnants of a thousand worlds."
When Adam finally controls his laughter, he says, "Then let him meet Death, boyo. I assure you - he won't regret the meeting for long."
Loki smiles at him, madder than a hatter, and Adam wishes he'd acted sooner.
But wishes are horses, and Death does ride, and their first stop is Thanos.
Their last stop will be Asgardr, and Odin will be king of all those slain.
.
There was one command given, on a bloodied field.
There was one command ignored, in golden halls.
The greatest villain is the one created by the hero's hand.
On a thousand worlds, the greatest villain of all is Death.
Death's fine with that.