Commentfic dump (BBC Sherlock, Doctor Who, Being Human UK, Hunger Games, Harry Potter)
Title: Standing Still
Fandom: Sherlock BBC/Doctor Who
Characters: Sally
Rating: G
Prompt: Here on the meme.
In her dreams, Sally runs. She runs because he runs, the man she can never quite catch, always just out of sight in the fog. She sees his coattails whipping through the air as her alarm rings, and she's suddenly standing far too still.
She's always standing still, awake, always that nagging feeling at her shoulder like there's something she keeps meaning to do but never quite manages to get to it. Making breakfast, waiting at crime scenes, filling out paperwork, brushing her teeth. There's never any motion to it. The world rushes on without her, but she's always standing still.
Sometimes she'll catch people staring at her, with this look in their eyes, somewhere between pity and admiration and crushing despair. They always turn away very quickly.
Sometimes she looks at the stars and forgets how to breathe.
*
Title: First Impressions
Fandom: Sherlock BBC
Characters: Jim
Rating: PG
Prompt: Meme.
Many people, upon meeting Jim for the first time, formed three impressions: that he was English, that he was intelligent, and that he was gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide. Two of these things were wrong: Ireland is not in England, no matter what the majority of America may think, and Jim was, in fact, omnisexual. But he was intelligent -- the kind of intelligent that maxed out IQ tests and caused primary school teachers to send home notes somewhere along the lines of, "Dear Mr. and Mrs. So-and-so, Your son/daughter is extremely intelligent; so intelligent, in fact, that I recommend that you request s/he be moved up about four grades, or at the very least talk to him/her about not prompting discussion on the evolutionary significance behind the Pavlovian psychology of Vipera berus in our science class. Sincerely, Miss This-and-that."
*
Title: Tastes-Like-Home
Fandom: Being Human (UK)
Characters: Annie, George, Mitchell
Rating: PG
Prompt: Wet: Being Human UK, Ensemble, Annie's tea
George has always liked tea. For him it is normality and family and Before.
Mitchell has never been a fan of tea. As a human it was a rarity, bitter and watery. As a vampire it doesn't hold a candle to blood, red and hot from the vein. But he's clean now and it's enough to keep him that way, sweet and dark and smooth.
And then comes Annie. Her tea is perfect, soft and warm and tastes-like-home. She makes far too much of it and the boys complain, but they don't mind, not really. She leaves it around the House like gifts, small and surprising in the places they're found. Mitchell wakes up and finds a mug near his bed; George reaches for his glasses on the mantel and there's one there too. On the washer; by the fridge; near the telly; even, on one memorable occasion, in Mitchell's sock drawer. She always waits by the door with a piping-hot brew on full moon mornings when George stumbles in newly human. On danger nights when Mitchell's hands shake with want of blood she's there, too, with a warm mug and soothing hands.
Annie can no longer drink the tea she makes, so her boys drink it for her, and learn that the only tea worth drinking is Annie's special tastes-like-home.
*
Title: things shatter all the time
Fandom: Hunger Games
Characters: Katniss, fem!Gale, Prim
Rating: PG
Prompt: AUs: The Hunger Games, any, genderswitch
The name washes over me in a slow, numbing wave, and for a moment I can't breathe. It feels as if Effie is still reading from her little slip of paper, miles away up on the platform.
Prim drifts towards the stage, her blonde hair catching the sun. I think: Who will care for Lady and Buttercup? and I am running, shoving through warm masses of people without regard because the Capitol will not have my sister.
Strong, thin arms wrap around my chest and shoulders, wiry muscles shifting under olive skin in conspiracy to hold me captive. A hand slides over my mouth and the words choke in my throat (I volunteer! I volunteer!) but Gale is yelling for me, over my head.
"I volunteer to take the place of Primrose Everdeen," she shouts, and the words echo like death knells in the silence.
Her arms drop, the damage done, but I've forgotten how to speak, jagged words cramming themselves a dozen at a time up my throat. I gather Prim to me and we stand together in silence as Gale takes her place among the damned.
*
Title: not all snakes have cold blood
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Harry, Ginny, Ron, Tom
Rating: PG
Prompt: AUs: Harry Potter, Tom Riddle Jr/Harry, Ginny Weasley died in the Chamber of Secrets - everyone knows that. What no one knows is who actually killed her.
Harry drags himself down the corridor, robes heavy and sodden and splashed with blood. Most of it is not his own. He leans heavily on the wall, and carries nothing.
"Harry!" Ron yells. "Where's Ginny -- is she behind you?" Having struggled halfway through the gap in the rocks, he peers anxiously over Harry's shoulder as if expecting to see his sister pop up any moment now with a grin reminiscent of the twins'. But one look at Harry's eyes and Ron knows; knows with such certainty that his blood freezes in his veins.
"Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever," Harry recites tonelessly, eyes wide and numb, and Ron slides to the floor.
..
The chamber is sealed overnight; no one ever returns to collect the sword, or the hat, or the diary, or the body of a little red-headed girl who gave too much.
..
"They don't believe me, Tom," Harry says, flat on his back in his four-poster. "Dumbledore told them everything, and -- they think I killed her."
There is no answer. (There is never an answer.)
"I hear them whisper. They sound like snakes, but I can't understand them."
Harry shivers and rolls over, reaching for the place where his wand should be.
"I wish you'd give it back. I need it."
(Somewhere far off in a forest, a false boy with a stolen wand is seeking himself.)
*
Title: Orders Are Orders
Fandom: Sherlock BBC(/His Dark Materials)
Characters: Seb Moran & Sarea, Jim & Aesina
Rating: PG(-13ish)
Prompt: Jim makes a habit of touching Seb's dæmon, on the meme.
Aesina is perched where she always is, sprawled across the shoulders of London's only consulting criminal. Her long tail is wrapped firmly around his upper arm, tiny black fingers tangled in his hair as she peers wide-eyed and silent over his head.
Seb fights the urge to squirm under her gaze. As a sniper he's sat still for hours at a stretch, but something about the spider monkey dæmon's stare never fails to unnerve him.
Or maybe it's just Jim, who smiles far too much and it always reaches his eyes, which it really shouldn't. Fucking creepy.
Sarea is a comforting weight across his feet, warm and familiar. Her tufted ears twitch, dark eyes fixed on Aesina.
"Your pretty guns all ready for a good day's work?" Jim asks finally, with an unusually strong Irish lilt to his voice. Seb has been working for Moriarty long enough to know that means lots of work for the homicide squad tomorrow.
"Yeah, boss." Seb knows what's coming next, but that doesn't stop it from being any less shocking than it was the first time it happened. Jim kneels in front of Sarea, placing his hands on either side of the bobcat dæmon's head. She shudders under his touch, and a chill goes down Seb's spine from the sheer, gross invasion of privacy. It feels as if Jim has reached a hand inside Seb's ribs and caressed the remains of his soul, stepped into his head and rummaged through all his innermost thoughts. It feels as if Jim has put a bullet in his skull and followed it through.
Jim leans forward until their faces are almost touching, nose to snout. "Kill, girl," he says seriously, then laughs. He drops his hands and stands up, and Seb remembers how to breathe. Ears flat and hackles raised, Sarea winds around his ankles.
On Jim's shoulders, Aesina titters wordlessly and tilts her head to see Seb better. Fucking creepy.