Thursday: Death

[meteorfire.livejournal.com]

Good morning, everyone! Today’s Thursday, and it’s meteorfire here with the theme of the day. It’s been wonderful hosting for you guys!

Today’s theme is one of my favorites in fiction, to be honest. I guess that makes me sort of a morbid person. Anyways, the new theme is Death! Anything related to death goes. Funerals, character death, death AS a character, someone dealing with someone’s death, or even someone’s car dying on the side of the road.

Here's some quick examples:

• The Avengers, Steve, It didn’t hit him until later that most of the people he once knew are dead.
• The Avengers, Tony/Steve, Something happens to Tony’s reactor and the replacement isn’t found in time
• Discworld/The Great Mouse Detective, Death of Rats & Ratigan, Death of Rats is sent to reap Ratigan after his death and Ratigan refuses to go quietly
• Sherlock BBC, John & any, his leg wasn’t as psychosomatic as anyone thought it was and that is a fatal mistake
• Merlin BBC, Uther (& Arthur/Merlin optional), the dead start rising – including Ygraine

And as always, remember to follow the rules:

• Only three prompts from a fandom
• Only five prompts in a row
• If one prompt gets filled you can leave a new one
• No spoilers in your prompts until a week after airdate/publication
• If your fill contains a spoiler please warn accordingly and leave space for the spoiler.

Have fun, everyone!

tag= Death

Comments

[meteorfire.livejournal.com]

The Avengers, Steve, It didn’t hit him until later that most of the people he once knew are dead.

Don't Be Late, PG

[restlessme.livejournal.com]

First time writing anything Avengers-related, hope you enjoy!

It's finally when he has the time to breathe that he remembers.
Perhaps it's the time he sees a woman walking down the street, thick hair curled down her back wearing a dress so red it blinds him for a moment.

Don't you dare be late. Understood?
He walks to the club on feet heavier than lead just to hope that maybe...just maybe miracles happen when so much terrible exists as well. He isn't sure how he's supposed to feel when he sees a cheap liquor store in it's place, but fire coils deep in his gut.

He breaks through ten punching bags that evening, cries hot tears into his pillow (he's a child being bullied again and Bucky slaps him on the shoulder with a laugh).

[meteorfire.livejournal.com]

The Avengers, Tony/Steve, Something happens to Tony’s reactor and the replacement isn’t found in time

[meteorfire.livejournal.com]

Discworld/The Great Mouse Detective, Death of Rats & Ratigan, Death of Rats is sent to reap Ratigan after his death and Ratigan refuses to go quietly

Fill

[poestheblackcat.livejournal.com]

Padraic Ratigan looks down at the corpse by his feet. His translucent feet. He takes another look at the body and hmms. "I'm a ghost now, am I?" he muses. "Oh, the havoc I will be able to wreak on the poor unsuspecting countrymice of Britain, nay the world! And that dratted Basil will be unable to stop me!"

"SQUEAK," says someone behind him.

He turns around.

"SQUEAK," says Death of Rats again.

The angry exclamation is several moments in building, but once there is enough momentum behind it, it erupts out of the mastermind. "I am not a rat!"

Death of Rats heaves a sigh as dry as bone. "SQUEAK SQUEAK-SQUEAK SQUEAK," he says.

"You can't reap me! I am not finished with my diabolical plan! As long as I am alive, I will...I will not die!"

"SQUEAK," Death of Rats says tiredly. He wishes this rat would please hurry up through denial and anger, and get straight on to acceptance already. He doesn't have all day. He's got hundreds of rat souls to reap and see on to the Land of Endless Cheese.

"But...but...I shan't!" Ratigan shouts.

"SQUEAK," Death of Rats says, and swings his scythe.

With a final "Noooooo!!!", the shade of Padraic Ratigan fades away into the ether.

[meteorfire.livejournal.com]

Sherlock BBC, John & any, his leg wasn’t as psychosomatic as anyone thought it was and that is a fatal mistake

Fill, 1/2, Slings and Arrows

[hobnailedboots.livejournal.com]

He wrinkles his nose in pain and presses his palm flat against his thigh. He moves his feet in smooth circles, but on the arm of the chair his other hand is balled tight.

“John,” says Sherlock, and it's just the right side of condescending. Anderson doesn't know how he puts up with him.

“Look, I can't help it; it hurts, okay?”

Sherlock turns to the dilapidated coffee machine in the incident room. “It's psychosom--”

“Have you never read Harry Potter? Just because it's in my head doesn't mean it's not real.”

Sherlock chuckles and kneels at his feet. Sickening.

“All right,” he says, fingers exploratory and gentle. “Sharp shooting or dull throbbing?”

“Sherlock--”

“Don't sound so scandalised, John. I'm humouring you, aren't I? Now shush.”

“What do you think you're looking at?” says John, flushed.

Anderson does not wait for the supplementary insult from Holmes, and leaves.

~

“You shouldn't work him so hard, Sherlock,” she almost says. John's face is set and grim, so she offers them tea instead.

Mrs Hudson stands in the hallway as they stagger in. From the look of things, they've had another chase. She wishes that when Sherlock said the game was afoot it wasn't meant so literally; John isn't limping, but he is holding himself stiffly. For one incredulous – not to mention accusatory – moment she thinks Sherlock hasn't noticed, but she sees him twirl with a flourish and hang back so John takes the steps first. She sees him frown.

If Mrs Hudson knew a polite way to offer John her herbal soothers, she would.

~

The man looks harmless enough, and he's not on any of her lists, but he's been 'just browsing' for forty-seven minutes now and Rachel's getting uneasy.

It's her first day solo on tills, and she doesn't want to earn the scorn of higher-ups, so Rachel leans on the counter and offers him another fixed smile as he looks up.

She doesn't bother asking if he's looking for a gift; his limp is so pronounced she sees it as he hobbles the two steps from one rack of canes to the next.

Eventually he leaves, empty-handed.

~

This is, apparently, a duty of an older brother, albeit one he rarely had to perform. Mycroft's stopped listening; he's already heard the facts and though he never hears any self-blame in the corridors of power he does not want for it. Mycroft waits for a pause in Sherlock's stream of self-flagellation, and hazards a “there, there”.

“There, there?” Sherlock glares at him, fingers trembling, and goes again to the decanter. “The muscles in his thigh are withering and dying as I speak, Mycroft – if not worse. I should have – I'm with him all the blood time – I should have noticed. Worse, I did notice, but chalked it up to stress and too little sleep.”

“He's a doctor. If anyone should have noticed--”

“He followed my lead, Mycroft! I thought I'd proved that his limp was psychosomatic, but I didn't. Theories can't be proved; they can only be falsified. He took me at my word, and rearranged his observations to fit.” Sherlock's gesticulations ceased and he looked Mycroft in the eye. “Crippling pain? Oh, that's just my mind. Can't physically walk? Mind over matter. And now they won't let me in because I'm not family.”

Sherlock downs his measure and pours another in one swift movement.

“Even if I accept that you are a disgrace to science and the methods of rationality – which you aren't – don't you always say there's no room for regret?”

“I think we've established,” says Sherlock, “that the fact I always say something doesn't make it true.”

~

Rachel gets kept on past Christmas, but the man never comes back.

~

[xenoamorist.livejournal.com]

Supernatural/Discworld; Death + Death; a chance encounter

[meteorfire.livejournal.com]

Merlin BBC, Uther (& Arthur/Merlin optional), the dead start rising – including Ygraine

[xenoamorist.livejournal.com]

Supernatural/Firefly; reapers + reavers; the inevitability of death

[hunters-retreat.livejournal.com]

I picked this prompt to update a verse of mine with River and Sam Winchester. Hope you enjoy!

http://hunters-retreat.livejournal.com/483106.html

[xenoamorist.livejournal.com]

any; any; "for life's not a paragraph / And death i think is no parenthesis" —E. E. Cummings

SPN, Chuck -- No Paragraph

[murf1307.livejournal.com]

A lot of the time, Chuck wishes he could help. He sees the visions, and he writes them out, but he hardly plays any part in the great Winchester Gospels.

He just sits there and watches, making the stories readable and sellable, putting commas and parentheses and periods in the right places, hoping to God that he's not putting all of this together wrong.

When Castiel dies, Chuck mourns -- because he knows. He's watched the Winchesters and their angel since the story started seven years ago, and he can tell, without a vision, what will happen next.

Not for the first time, he feels powerless in his gift.

These are people, after all, and he can't think of them as merely characters. They have lives and loves and struggles, and he doesn't think those can -- or should -- be summed up in pretty paragraphs and ended with parenthetical asides.

But still he is compelled to write, and the pages fill.

The world ends, and he still writes.

[xenoamorist.livejournal.com]

any; any;

Tendidos bajo tierra
una muchacha y un muchacho.
No dicen nada, no se besan,
cambian silencio por silencio.

❧

Stretched out underground,
a boy and a girl.
Saying nothing, never kissing,
giving silence for silence.

—Octavio Paz, "Los novios"

full text of poem

[xenoamorist.livejournal.com]

Can be found here (http://agitationofhands.wordpress.com/2007/10/11/los-novios-a-boy-and-a-girl/). :)

[xenoamorist.livejournal.com]

Supernatural; Dean/Tessa; harvest

[lilfluffykitten.livejournal.com]

Pirates of the Caribbean, author's choice, (any) character comes back from the dead - but they don't come back quite right.

[lilfluffykitten.livejournal.com]

Any, any, having to make a terrible sacrifice.

[lilfluffykitten.livejournal.com]

Any, any, adjusting to becoming a vampire

Fill: Teen Wolf, Derek/Stiles

[havemy-heart.livejournal.com]

"I don't know how to help you, Stiles," Derek shouted, obviously frustrated. "I never thought vampires existed."

As Derek paced in front of him, Stiles hunched over on his knees. The unforgiving hardness of the forest floor was nothing in comparison to the fangs making his jaw ache or the Hunger spreading through every cell of his body.

Scott, Jackson and Lydia stood mutely, watching their Alpha show more emotion than they had ever witnessed. Of course, his Mate had never been in this type of pain.

Scott tried to reach out to Stiles, wanting to help his best friend any way he could.

Derek yanked him back. "Don't." Derek was back to being the stoic, somber werewolf they were used to.

Scott made a noise of frustration, but backed off.

"It hurts, Derek. Make it stop. God, please make it stop," Stiles bit out, arms tightening around his torso.

Derek slowly approached his boyfriend, unsure of what was about to happen. His wolf was screaming for him to take away its Mate's pain, though, so he'd do whatever he had to.

Derek kneeled down in front of Stiles and slowly brought Stiles' arms out from around him. Stiles looked up, his eyes alight in pain and Derek flinched at the sight.

"Stiles, you have to drink from me. It's the only way to stop the pain."

"Are you crazy?! I can't drink someone's blood! Let alone yours. Just kill me. I can't take it anymore." Stiles let out a sob and tried to fold in on himself again. Before he could, Derek held his wrist right in front of Stiles' mouth. Stiles gave a pitiful moan before attaching his mouth to the delicious offering in front of him.

His fangs slid into the tender skin, causing Derek to groan in discomfort, but as soon as the hot blood spilled into Stiles' mouth and down his throat, the pain slowly started receding.

He drank and drank, letting out small moans of appreciation before finally pulling away. Derek had taken off his shirt and pressed it to his wrist until the wound healed.

Stiles raised his head, a look of satiation on his innocent face. The others gasped as they saw Stiles' eyes glowing red.

"Hey, you and Derek have matching eyes now," Jackson said. He was met with four pairs of eyes, staring at him in incredulity. "Well, they do," he mumbled.

Stiles shook his head at Jackson before turning to Derek. "I could feel your heartbeat! It was so cool. I knew just when to stop drinking so it wouldn't hurt you. But man, I didn't want to stop. You taste so good!"

At this declaration, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Derek's, causing the others to look away from the private moment.

"Thank you," Stiles whispered, his forehead meeting Derek's and staring intently into his eyes. "I could have hurt you, but..."

"I trusted you not to hurt me. And I wasn't going to let you sit there and suffer. You're my Mate and it's my job to protect you."

"Yeah, yeah. That's sweet and all, but can we go get dinner now?" Jackson asked.

He was met with a smack to his head. "Shut up, Jackson," Lydia growled.

Derek smirked at Lydia in approval before helping Stiles to stand and twining their fingers. "I might just let Stiles have you for dinner," he deadpanned.

Jackson looked pained as the others laughed and Stiles playfully snapped at him.

They'd get through this as a pack, just like every other challenge that came their way.

[lizzie-marie-23.livejournal.com]

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, Rosencrantz, death and then eternity in a box is not a pleasant thought

[natural-blue-26.livejournal.com]

Any, any, death came softly

Fill - Fullmetal Alchemist - "Softly, Softly"

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

When death came, it came softly, while Pinako Rockbell slept. She had gone to bed complaining of a mild case of indigestion, sipping at a cup of peppermint tea, and Winry realized her grandmother hadn’t woken up with the rooster’s crow for once, and had made the dark, smoky-flavored tea Granny preferred to coffee, and planned on waking her up with the rich scent of it.

A knock on Granny’s door brought no response, though, and after a few harder raps at the wood, Winry entered the room. The warm smell of the tea wasn’t enough to wipe away the cold stink of death that lingered in the air, and, later, Winry realized the heat at her feet was the tea, soaking into her house slippers.

A part of her thought it was better this way, slipping away while sleeping, as opposed to what happened to her parents, and their death at the hands of a man enraged by pain and loss. Still, Winry couldn’t help but wondering if Granny had known – had felt a cold hand touch hers in the night, had protested at leaving her granddaughter alone in the world.

Winry kissed her grandmother’s forehead, the cold skin beneath her lips a shock. She’d have to make preparations, she knew, tell people, schedule a funeral, and have a grave dug; but for the moment, she couldn’t move, settled next to her grandmother, her last family member, and letting her tears fall.

[ami-ven.livejournal.com]

Stargate Atlantis, John/Rodney, somehow they manage to Ascend (and spend eternity annoying the hell out of the Expedition's descendents)

[natural-blue-26.livejournal.com]

Criminal Minds, Garcia, she really hates this part of the job

[natural-blue-26.livejournal.com]

Animorphs, Marco (/Rachel), the one good thing about her family cremating her was that they'd never have to listen to her bitch about the outfit she was(n't) buried in in the afterlife

[natural-blue-26.livejournal.com]

Anne of Green Gables verse, Walter/Uma, decades later the Piper comes for her as well

[natural-blue-26.livejournal.com]

Firefly, any, last member left of the crew left breathing

[alcimines.livejournal.com]

Remembrance (Firefly, any, last member left of the crew left breathing)

The years passed as they came and went. Sometimes the crew and assorted hangers-on aboard "Serenity" numbered well over a dozen. Sometimes it was just two or three lonely souls rattling around a tiny ship that now suddenly seemed to be so huge...

For almost a century, Kaylee had been the one constant. That wasn't exactly surprising. After all, she had been one of the youngest of Mal's crew, the one who took the least chances, and the one who just couldn't quite give up on the beloved and half-senescent bucket of bolts that was "Serenity".

"Escape velocity," the pilot quietly reported to Kaylee.

"Serenity" was pushing through the upper atmosphere of a barren moon, muscling her way out of yet another gravity well. The were carrying a load of mining equipment to another God-forsaken moon. The pilot was a tough young man named David. His grand-father had been one of the most decorated officers in the Alliance army. Sometimes Kaylee dreamed of an impossible world were Mal and Zoe met David... and eventually were forced to reluctantly admitted that he was a fine young man and definitely as good a pilot as Wash.

Mal... Zoe... Wash...

Book, Jayne, Inara...

Simon...

Simon...

The pang was still there although, of course, the years had worn away the worst of the pain. That was just the way it worked. It had been so long since the last of them died that -- except for Kaylee -- nobody now aboard "Serenity" had known any of them. And except for a very few (and getting fewer) old-timers scattered here and there throughout the worlds of the Alliance, there were damn few left who still remembered them at all.

That was just the way it worked. You lived and you died. You fought for a cause -- or you didn't. You found someone -- or you stayed alone. You got rich -- or you spent your entire life struggling just to get by. You left something behind -- or you didn't.

You were free -- or you weren't.

And in the end, no matter what you had or hadn't done, you turned to dust. And then there were only a few memories that would also eventually pass. Every person's life was a short, brilliant streak of light that quickly went dark.

"Like a firefly," Kaylee half-whispered to herself.

"Ma'am?" David said, glancing at her and obviously puzzled by what she had said.

Kaylee smiled and ruffled the boy's hair, "Nothing. Davie. I'll be down in engineering."

"Where else?" David replied with a long-suffering smile as he hand-combed his hair back into place. He endured Kaylee's familiarity because she was a damn good captain.

"Only one other place to go," Kaylee chuckled. "And I'll be there soon enough."

The Captain left the cockpit. Behind her, David frowned and tried to puzzle out the meaning of what she had just said.

[shaitanah.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Chuck + Death, Death disagrees with the way Chuck portrayed him in the books.

[shaitanah.livejournal.com]

Angel, Wesley, just once he wanted to die before someone he loved did.

[lionessvalenti.livejournal.com]

White Collar, Neal, mourning Kate in prison.

[shaitanah.livejournal.com]

Angel, Darla (and Connor), dying was easier than falling asleep.

[scarlet-gryphon.livejournal.com]

any, any, Canción del Jinete (http://es2en.blogspot.com/2005/11/federico-garca-lorca-cancin-del-jinete.html)