ext_7247 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
lilian413.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crack_van2005-09-15 02:50 pm
lilian413.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2005-09-15 02:50 pm
Entry tags:
Highlander/X-Men (PG-13)
Title: Razorbeasts by MacNair (PG-13)
Pairing: none
Author on LJ: none
Author Website: Fics at Daire’s Fanfic Refuge
Why this must be read:
Yes, it’s MacNair again. And with the most wonderful combination ever: Connor (of course) plus a certain attitude-wielding, claw-wearing mutant: Logan. An alley, a Quickening and a bar, plus two of the broodiest, hottest men ever played on screen.
That’s an evil combination. How can something so deadly have a voice so tame? Me, I look uncivilized, act uncivilized, and sound uncivilized. No surprises.
Now this one, he’s everything unexpected. He looks like a weakling, kills grotesquely with a sword, has a voice like a choirboy, and a stare like a cougar. I hate unexpected things. Especially dangerous, unexpected things. The ones in alleyways are the worst.
“I always want a fuck after a fight, too,” I hand back to him. I don’t have a smile to go with it. He’ll have to settle for dry humor. “There’s no girl here. Just the bar, two blocks down.”
He makes me wait again, which I hate. I contemplate how many claws I can hook behind his breastbone before he brings that toothpicker up and guts me—which I’m sure he can do, judging from the stance he’s maintained since I sidled down this alley. If I pull hard enough, can I pop the front of his ribcage off? Will I see a ball of blue fire burning inside him instead of a heart?
He moves just the tiniest bit and my senses scream to pounce—and if my claws could snick out farther than they already are, they’d be snicked backbone-deep in him—and I see his eyes change, go flat and malevolent. He can see my nearness to violence in my eyes and reads it correctly. He’s ready for it, ready to fight—ready to kill. Ferocity lurks beneath our surfaces like sharks. Close, so close to combat ... and I realize that I’ve leaned into the radius of that sword. He could take the front of my face off before I’d reach him.
And he’s still waiting. Frozen death with a blade longer than my arm.
A man who can kill, but only when he decides to.
RazorBeasts
Pairing: none
Author on LJ: none
Author Website: Fics at Daire’s Fanfic Refuge
Why this must be read:
Yes, it’s MacNair again. And with the most wonderful combination ever: Connor (of course) plus a certain attitude-wielding, claw-wearing mutant: Logan. An alley, a Quickening and a bar, plus two of the broodiest, hottest men ever played on screen.
That’s an evil combination. How can something so deadly have a voice so tame? Me, I look uncivilized, act uncivilized, and sound uncivilized. No surprises.
Now this one, he’s everything unexpected. He looks like a weakling, kills grotesquely with a sword, has a voice like a choirboy, and a stare like a cougar. I hate unexpected things. Especially dangerous, unexpected things. The ones in alleyways are the worst.
“I always want a fuck after a fight, too,” I hand back to him. I don’t have a smile to go with it. He’ll have to settle for dry humor. “There’s no girl here. Just the bar, two blocks down.”
He makes me wait again, which I hate. I contemplate how many claws I can hook behind his breastbone before he brings that toothpicker up and guts me—which I’m sure he can do, judging from the stance he’s maintained since I sidled down this alley. If I pull hard enough, can I pop the front of his ribcage off? Will I see a ball of blue fire burning inside him instead of a heart?
He moves just the tiniest bit and my senses scream to pounce—and if my claws could snick out farther than they already are, they’d be snicked backbone-deep in him—and I see his eyes change, go flat and malevolent. He can see my nearness to violence in my eyes and reads it correctly. He’s ready for it, ready to fight—ready to kill. Ferocity lurks beneath our surfaces like sharks. Close, so close to combat ... and I realize that I’ve leaned into the radius of that sword. He could take the front of my face off before I’d reach him.
And he’s still waiting. Frozen death with a blade longer than my arm.
A man who can kill, but only when he decides to.
RazorBeasts