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comment_fic 1192 - 1196: original, HP, HL

Title: The Worst Thing
Written: January 15, 2016
Prompt: any. any horror stories




survival is
perhaps
not the worst thing

but you remember
you remember
everything

without the grace of forgetting
there is no escaping that

long after dust settles
long after blood dries
long after flowers bloom
on the grave
long after the last goodbye

you remember

survival is a second chance

but you must embrace it

there are worse things
perhaps
but you can't think of any



Title: lioness
Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: AU, character death
Pairings: Lily/James
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 333
Point of view: third
Prompt: Harry Potter. any. One of Harry's parents survived.
Note: There may be more coming; if so, it’ll just be drabbles with no overarching plot.


She mistranslated part of the ritual, and a symbolic sacrifice is more than enough, so instead of dying when the green light hits her, Lily shudders and watches as it bounces back onto Voldemort.

Harry is screaming behind her; James is dead downstairs. She hears someone moving around in the house, and she knows that there is too much she doesn't understand, too little she's been told, and she wants to collapse beside James, wants to cry until it doesn't hurt anymore, but instead she turns to hold her son, takes a deep breath, and thinks.

"Lily?!" she hears, and someone running up the stairs, and the only person she can trust is dead.

The nursery door slams shut in response to her fear and as she hurries to the window, she grabs the wand that is the only evidence Voldemort had attacked. She takes nothing else from the nursery, none of Harry's clothes or toys, and she has no definite plan beyond hide somewhere no one knows.

Harry snuffles against her neck and she can hear Severus banging on the door, can hear someone else shouting now, and she takes a deep breath before jumping out the window.

"I have no idea what I'm doing, Harry love," she murmurs, casting a glamour and warming charm on them both, and she bites back the tears, bites back the anger, bites back the fear.

On October 31, 1981, the Dark Lord Voldemort vanished. What very few people knew is that so did Lily Potter and her son.

Severus Snape was still protected by Albus Dumbledore; Sirius Black still went to Azkaban without a trial while Percy Weasley found and adopted a rat. No one knew what happened that night in Godric's Hollow, but a certain headmaster ensured what he wanted known spread, and so people toasted and thanked the Boy-Who-Lived, who was surely secreted away somewhere for his own protection.

And somewhere in the world, a woman researched ancient and obscure magic, and plotted.



Title: i could lie
Prompt: Any, Any/Any, If I lied and said what you want to hear, would you still leave me or would the lies make everything alright?
Written January 22, 2016

I could tell you a thousand pretty things.
I could smile and laugh,
and it might wipe away the pain.
I could pretend, just like you;
I could lie here and now,
just for the chance you won’t
walk away when the words fade into the wind.
But all that leaves us with
is this same moment
because I know it’ll come around again.
I could lie
but the truth is that I’m tired.
I could lie
but the truth is that the bed’s cold even when you’re here.
I could lie
but I’m not sure a few days’ respite is worth it.
I could lie —
I could spin you a dream
of what we haven’t been in so long.
I could smile and laugh
but I’m almost sure you’d see through it.
I could lie
but instead I’ll just ask once more:
Are you sure this is what you want?



Title: they share the same blood and the same blows
Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Anne Sexton
Warnings: AU during book 5
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 265
Point of view: third
Prompt: Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Hidden secrets


"If I were to ask you," Tom Riddle murmurs with a gentle smile, "why you are their hero, what would you answer?"

Because you killed my parents, Harry thinks, and because you kill people who don't deserve it, and because you keep trying to kill me.

He says none of it. Instead he takes a deep breath, hidden away inside his head, staring up at the man prophesied to be his enemy, and Harry must surely be dreaming —

"Are you their hero because you believe in it?" Tom Riddle asks. "Or are you their hero because they told you that you are?"

Once, when he was young, Harry had dreamed of being special. He's since learned it's actually a horrible thing.

"Are you my enemy, Harry?" Tom Riddle asks.

Harry opens his mouth but doesn't answer and Tom Riddle nods. "I'll let you think on it," he says, still with that same smile. "When you have decided, you know how to reach me." He inclines his head and backs through a door that surely isn't real—physical, Harry thinks, is it real if it's not physical?

He doesn't wake but instead blinks open his eyes, and there's a book in front of him, and Hermione and Ron fussing at each other, and Harry has so much to think about.

He listens to Hermione, and he listens to Ron, and he listens to the overlapping voices in the common room, and then he wonders the question that will change the course of this muddled society: What do I know about Voldemort that hasn't been warped by someone else?



Title: Don't choose to live by the book
Fandom: Highlander
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: AU during season 5
Pairings: Kronos/Methos
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 370
Point of view: third
Prompt: any, any,

I am your darkest side the one you keep in shadows too far to hide
Deep in your heart you can't deny
All of your fears keeping me alive
Waiting here for you to arrive
Don't choose to live by the book
Let's live by the hook
("Live by the Hook" from Finding Neverland)


"Brother," Kronos says, wiping the blood off the knife and onto Methos' shirt, "are you yet tired of hiding?"

"That's one of a thousand differences, brother," Methos retorts, stretching out his arms and arching his back, trying to shake off the tremors that linger after dying.

"What, that you hide and I refuse to?" Kronos demands, letting the knife fall. Methos doesn't watch it; it's always best to keep eyes on Kronos. "I know you've missed it, Methos!"

"The sand that got everywhere no matter what?" Methos says. "The neverending aches, the blood and viscera, the fear that fled before us and trailed after us? What's not to miss?"

Kronos glares at him. "For three thousand years, I have waited. Five hundred them were at the bottom of a well, dying of starvation and thirst over and over and over again."

Methos had not felt guilt when he trapped Kronos; he still does not feel it, even as Kronos says, "But I forgave you for that centuries ago. Do you know why?"

Methos slumps back onto the table, resting his face in his hands. "Because I left you alive instead of taking your head," he murmurs.

Kronos sounds triumphant when he says, "Yes, brother. Because you knew, even then, that one day I would come for you. Because you are mine."

Sighing, Methos looks up at him. "And are you mine, Kronos?"

"Of course I am." The words are certain, and Methos does not shy away when Kronos reaches for him. "I have been yours since you led me out of the desert to the ocean, since you taught me to ride horses, since we tamed the lightning together to become gods." His fingers are gentle as he traces along Methos' jaw, his lips. "Become a god with me again," he pleads. "I need you."

"The world has changed," Methos says, already knowing his answer. He knew it when he left Kronos alive, three thousand years ago.

"Guide me," Kronos says, kneeling between Methos' legs and gazing up at him, as he did in the desert when he was young.

The world has changed, yes, and Methos too. But he reaches to caress Kronos' cheek and he answers, "Always."

Comments

( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
maldeluxx
Mar. 14th, 2016 02:50 pm (UTC)
Things would've turned *very* interesting if Lily survived, quite likely even more awesome ;)

tigriswolf
Mar. 15th, 2016 04:51 pm (UTC)

Thank you for reading!
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )

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tigriswolf
questioning in order to create

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