comment-fic
I'm going to start archiving my fills for comment_fic here in my journal before it becomes overwhelming to hunt them all down. Here's the first batch:
Title: Scale of Dragon, Tooth of Wolf
Fandoms: Harry Potter + Merlin (the tv series)
Prompt: Draco is haunted by ghost of Morgana
Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Merlin
Morgana
By the time Morgana dies she hates the not-magic with a passion. Everything she loves has been taken away by either the not-magic or the bitter struggle against that blood traitor Merlin, who chose loyalty to a magicless prince when he should have been magic's champion.
Her hate is so complete that she refuses to move on, choosing instead to linger as a mere echo of life, longing for revenge. Camelot crumbles into forgotten ruins, and still she waits.
It starts with just a couple of people, and then a few more, and so on and so forth. A village comes to be. They grow their crops and drive their cattle over the ruins of something great, and the only one who knows it is a ghost.
A beautiful lady was once murdered here, they say, and now her spirit knows no peace. Beware the night, they say, for she was consumed by the injustice done unto her and became a malicious poltergeist.
There is only one person, a boy-child, who neither fears nor pities her. He is curious instead, and there is magic in his blood. He reminds her of Mordred, so she takes him on as her student. He becomes great, but she is proudest when his slyly-placed spells drive away the muggles, so that they wander confused and lost with no memory of the place they once called home.
A new castle rises over the ruins of the old. Morgana wishes Uther could see what her dear boy has made of this place; a magnificent school of magic.
She haunts the castle for a long, long time, and she is almost happy.
Draco
Father says that it's important to know about these things, but Draco is eight years old and easily bored. He sneaks away when Father isn't looking. He's not sorry either. The castle's much more interesting than any stuffy Board meeting, and Father never punishes him badly.
He finds the ghost-lady in the dungeon. She is pretty and fierce-eyed, with silvery bloodstains all down her dress.
"Who are you?" he asks. There is arrogance in his voice and posture, because he is a Malfoy, and Malfoys are better than everyone else.
Her bearing is no less superior when she answers; "Child, I am Lady Morgana."
He does not believe her, at first. Even so, she is interesting, so he doesn't stop talking to her either. She knows things about magic that he never dreamt of, and Father never hinted at. He is rapt.
He does not tell Father when he notices her following him home that evening, after he has been scolded for running off.
In the years that follow she becomes his tutor, secret confident and sister. If his parents suspect something, they never do anything about it.
By the time he goes to Hogwarts he likely knows more than any other student. Certainly he knows more than any of his yearmates. He can tell that it frustrates that know-it-all Gryffindor mudblood that she's never top of the class, no matter how hard she tries.
He's going to be great, one day. Maybe he'll rule the world, or maybe he'll find something better to do.
Lady Morgana looks at him and smiles.
Title: Into That Good Night
Fandom: The Avengers movie-'verse
Prompt: Sif/Loki, 'the pain was clear in their eyes'
Disclaimer: It's not mine, The Avengers
Thor was never meant to die. Loki had been warring against the thunder god for some time now, but he was never meant to die. A drum thundered in Loki’s ears, or maybe it was his heartbeat.
Fury and pain was written all over Sif’s face as she leapt for him with her spear extended. Loki could not breathe, let alone defend himself.
Maybe he died, next. Maybe something interfered and he did not. Maybe he meant to die but did not, and it would not be the first time that happened.
Maybe not even Death itself can love Loki.
Title: Owned
Fandom: Harry Potter
Prompt: Ron + Ginny, memory.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and the characters therein are JK Rowling's
Ginny knew that certain things remained from the time she was possessed by Tom Riddle, that Voldemort wanted her more than he let on. That was why she ran and hid and thought she would never look back.
That was before Harry failed to protect Ron, who was the only family she had left. She changed the direction of her running the moment she heard about Voldemort’s latest prisoner. She fell to her knees before Him and begged for her brother’s life.
Her brother doesn’t remember her now, but he lives. There’s nothing she won’t do to ensure that continues.
Title: Love Song for a Vampire
Fandom: Dracula
Pairing: Lucy/Mina
Prompt: any, any, running with the night
Disclaimer: Actually, Dracula is public domain I think, but I'll pay homage to Bram Stoker here anyway
Mina is hunter and hunted. Inhuman blood is pulsing through her, changing her.
Maybe she would be horrified, looking for a way out, if it had been the Count that came for her; she neither knows nor loves him.
But it was Lucy who came to her, dangerous and beautiful and free. It was Lucy who kissed and licked her neck, who drank deeply of her. It was Lucy who bit her own tongue and lips, and coaxed the blood down Mina’s throat.
Once Mina told herself that she loved Jonathan the most.
She has stopped thinking it is true.
Title: Loathed, Beloved
Fandom: Norse mythology
Prompt: Loki + any of his children, baby mine
Fenrir isn't even full-grown when it happens.
He had thought that he could trust Tyr. He had thought that Tyr was his friend, was pack.
He knows better now. There are only two that he can trust not to betray him, and they are his parents. One day he might also trust his younger sibling, but for now he or she still grows in Mother's womb.
A whine rises in his throat and struggles past his impaled jaw. There is no one here, no pack to comfort him. He is all alone.
Later there are footsteps on stone, light enough that he would not have heard it were he Aesir instead of wolf. He cringes and flattens his ears, because he is unable to defend himself, now.
"Oh, Fenrir," murmurs Father, his eyes full of horrified compassion and the beginnings of rage. Fenrir gazes back, bleak and hopeful.
Father's hands are gentle as they brush through his fur, soothing, and carefully remove the sword from his jaw. It still hurts, though. Whimpering, Fenrir presses himself into Father's side.
"Oh, my son," whispers Father, stroking his head. "They know not what their spite has wrought."
Fenrir closes his eyes and lets himself be comforted. Later that night he dreams of revenge.
Title: The Dying of the Light
Fandom: Sherlock
Prompt: any, waiting
Disclaimer: Sherlock isn't mine, and neither's Moriarty
The first time Jim Moriarty kills a human is nothing like the first time he killed a living thing.
The baby bird had been compulsive, without true understanding; pick up the little thing gently, so gently, then tighten your grip just so and snap.
No one even realised that he had done it on purpose.
This is entirely different. There’s plenty of time to sneak the poison back, so that nobody ever knows what he almost did.
But he has already spent so long planning this, there’s no way he can do anything other than wait that little bit longer.
Title: Scale of Dragon, Tooth of Wolf
Fandoms: Harry Potter + Merlin (the tv series)
Prompt: Draco is haunted by ghost of Morgana
Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Merlin
Morgana
By the time Morgana dies she hates the not-magic with a passion. Everything she loves has been taken away by either the not-magic or the bitter struggle against that blood traitor Merlin, who chose loyalty to a magicless prince when he should have been magic's champion.
Her hate is so complete that she refuses to move on, choosing instead to linger as a mere echo of life, longing for revenge. Camelot crumbles into forgotten ruins, and still she waits.
It starts with just a couple of people, and then a few more, and so on and so forth. A village comes to be. They grow their crops and drive their cattle over the ruins of something great, and the only one who knows it is a ghost.
A beautiful lady was once murdered here, they say, and now her spirit knows no peace. Beware the night, they say, for she was consumed by the injustice done unto her and became a malicious poltergeist.
There is only one person, a boy-child, who neither fears nor pities her. He is curious instead, and there is magic in his blood. He reminds her of Mordred, so she takes him on as her student. He becomes great, but she is proudest when his slyly-placed spells drive away the muggles, so that they wander confused and lost with no memory of the place they once called home.
A new castle rises over the ruins of the old. Morgana wishes Uther could see what her dear boy has made of this place; a magnificent school of magic.
She haunts the castle for a long, long time, and she is almost happy.
Draco
Father says that it's important to know about these things, but Draco is eight years old and easily bored. He sneaks away when Father isn't looking. He's not sorry either. The castle's much more interesting than any stuffy Board meeting, and Father never punishes him badly.
He finds the ghost-lady in the dungeon. She is pretty and fierce-eyed, with silvery bloodstains all down her dress.
"Who are you?" he asks. There is arrogance in his voice and posture, because he is a Malfoy, and Malfoys are better than everyone else.
Her bearing is no less superior when she answers; "Child, I am Lady Morgana."
He does not believe her, at first. Even so, she is interesting, so he doesn't stop talking to her either. She knows things about magic that he never dreamt of, and Father never hinted at. He is rapt.
He does not tell Father when he notices her following him home that evening, after he has been scolded for running off.
In the years that follow she becomes his tutor, secret confident and sister. If his parents suspect something, they never do anything about it.
By the time he goes to Hogwarts he likely knows more than any other student. Certainly he knows more than any of his yearmates. He can tell that it frustrates that know-it-all Gryffindor mudblood that she's never top of the class, no matter how hard she tries.
He's going to be great, one day. Maybe he'll rule the world, or maybe he'll find something better to do.
Lady Morgana looks at him and smiles.
Title: Into That Good Night
Fandom: The Avengers movie-'verse
Prompt: Sif/Loki, 'the pain was clear in their eyes'
Disclaimer: It's not mine, The Avengers
Thor was never meant to die. Loki had been warring against the thunder god for some time now, but he was never meant to die. A drum thundered in Loki’s ears, or maybe it was his heartbeat.
Fury and pain was written all over Sif’s face as she leapt for him with her spear extended. Loki could not breathe, let alone defend himself.
Maybe he died, next. Maybe something interfered and he did not. Maybe he meant to die but did not, and it would not be the first time that happened.
Maybe not even Death itself can love Loki.
Title: Owned
Fandom: Harry Potter
Prompt: Ron + Ginny, memory.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and the characters therein are JK Rowling's
Ginny knew that certain things remained from the time she was possessed by Tom Riddle, that Voldemort wanted her more than he let on. That was why she ran and hid and thought she would never look back.
That was before Harry failed to protect Ron, who was the only family she had left. She changed the direction of her running the moment she heard about Voldemort’s latest prisoner. She fell to her knees before Him and begged for her brother’s life.
Her brother doesn’t remember her now, but he lives. There’s nothing she won’t do to ensure that continues.
Title: Love Song for a Vampire
Fandom: Dracula
Pairing: Lucy/Mina
Prompt: any, any, running with the night
Disclaimer: Actually, Dracula is public domain I think, but I'll pay homage to Bram Stoker here anyway
Mina is hunter and hunted. Inhuman blood is pulsing through her, changing her.
Maybe she would be horrified, looking for a way out, if it had been the Count that came for her; she neither knows nor loves him.
But it was Lucy who came to her, dangerous and beautiful and free. It was Lucy who kissed and licked her neck, who drank deeply of her. It was Lucy who bit her own tongue and lips, and coaxed the blood down Mina’s throat.
Once Mina told herself that she loved Jonathan the most.
She has stopped thinking it is true.
Title: Loathed, Beloved
Fandom: Norse mythology
Prompt: Loki + any of his children, baby mine
Fenrir isn't even full-grown when it happens.
He had thought that he could trust Tyr. He had thought that Tyr was his friend, was pack.
He knows better now. There are only two that he can trust not to betray him, and they are his parents. One day he might also trust his younger sibling, but for now he or she still grows in Mother's womb.
A whine rises in his throat and struggles past his impaled jaw. There is no one here, no pack to comfort him. He is all alone.
Later there are footsteps on stone, light enough that he would not have heard it were he Aesir instead of wolf. He cringes and flattens his ears, because he is unable to defend himself, now.
"Oh, Fenrir," murmurs Father, his eyes full of horrified compassion and the beginnings of rage. Fenrir gazes back, bleak and hopeful.
Father's hands are gentle as they brush through his fur, soothing, and carefully remove the sword from his jaw. It still hurts, though. Whimpering, Fenrir presses himself into Father's side.
"Oh, my son," whispers Father, stroking his head. "They know not what their spite has wrought."
Fenrir closes his eyes and lets himself be comforted. Later that night he dreams of revenge.
Title: The Dying of the Light
Fandom: Sherlock
Prompt: any, waiting
Disclaimer: Sherlock isn't mine, and neither's Moriarty
The first time Jim Moriarty kills a human is nothing like the first time he killed a living thing.
The baby bird had been compulsive, without true understanding; pick up the little thing gently, so gently, then tighten your grip just so and snap.
No one even realised that he had done it on purpose.
This is entirely different. There’s plenty of time to sneak the poison back, so that nobody ever knows what he almost did.
But he has already spent so long planning this, there’s no way he can do anything other than wait that little bit longer.