comment-fic
Here's the next batch of comment_fic:
Title: Starting Over
Fandom: Harry Potter
Word count: 499
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling
Warnings: Alternate continuity, sort of dark!Harry
Prompt: Harry Potter, Harry + Voldemort, AU where the reason Harry survived that night is that two incarnations of the same soul can't kill each other.
From the very beginning of his earliest memory, Tom Riddle felt that he was meant for more. One day, he thought, he would prove it.
He hated the orphanage and the people in it. He was the outsider, the scapegoat, and something deep inside might have whispered not again and nothing ever changes when you're good.
"I'm going to be powerful," he told an adder one morning, "and then no one will push me around or use me."
Something deep inside might have whispered not this time.
~
"Neither can live while the other survives." That was what the seer had said.
Well then. The answer was obvious.
~
Green light, bright and deadly, his own curse turned against him. The tattered remnants of his soul fled from his body, if his body even existed anymore, and all was pain and confusion and in an instant Lord Voldemort remembered.
He was Harry Potter and he was so tired. He was watching a maimed, baby-like creature; a perfect horror that was, he supposed, a Horcrux. So this was what came of cheating death too many times. He felt hollow.
He finally looked away, and met Professor Dumbledore's blue eyes instead. "I suppose I'll catch a train," he said.
Dumbledore bowed his head and faded away into light, and Harry was left to wait for the train alone.
He waited and waited. Doubt started to stir, and all he could do was stand and think.
"I want to start over," he eventually concluded, his voice quiet and musing, "but I don't want to be the Boy Who Lived."
No sooner had he spoken the train finally arrived, silent and looming out of fog that he had not noticed before. He boarded and sat. The train started to move.
And then he was a newborn baby, wailing with his first breath. "Tom Marvolo Riddle," he heard, only just, and then there were more words but he was too surprised to pay attention, and then a flurry of movement.
"She's dead," said a strange voice.
Oh, he thought, and fell silent.
He remained silent until he no longer remembered why.
~
"Harry, Harry, Harry," murmured Voldemort as he twirled his wand between pale, spindly fingers. "You don't know who I am."
Harry lifted his head and glared defiance. "I know who you are," he spat. "You're Voldemort, you're Tom Riddle!"
"Wormtail was mistaken, Harry," Voldemort continued as though there had been no interruption. "The ritual for my resurrection never required blood of the enemy."
"What do you mean?" Harry was still defiant, but Voldemort could see the undercurrent of uncertainty. After all...
"Listen," he said. "I will tell you about yourself and you will wonder how I know. Then I will tell you why neither can live while the other survives. Don't you think that's interesting wording for a prophecy?"
He could never kill Harry Potter, he knew that now. He hoped to draw him into his web instead.
After all, he knew everything about him.
Title: Apostle of Destruction
Fandom: Monster
Word count: 396
Disclaimer: Monster belongs to Naoki Urasawa
Warnings: Roberto. Johan. They're both messed up. Also slash, and a swearword used literally. Mentions of gratuitious murder.
Pairing: Roberto/Johan
Prompt: Monster, Roberto/Johan, devotion.
The procession of Roberto's memories begins with Kinderheim 511. It is his birthplace and his nursery, or it might as well be. In any case, it has created his world.
What is the scenery of the end?
The boy that appears to him is beautiful, perfect of feature and form, and he has the empty eyes of an empty god. He says that he has no name, but he sometimes likes to go by Johan.
Of course the god of the end would have no name.
Johan, who actually is nameless, has risen from the ashes of Kinderheim 511. He is greater than anything that place could have hoped to produce, and Roberto will worship him and follow after him for a chance to see the end that has been promised by his eyes.
Johan is destruction. Roberto is an apostle of destruction.
Roberto likes women, or rather he likes sex with women, but a body is a body. He fucks and kills and none of it can hold a candle to Johan.
There is blood spattered on him, and some other bodily fluids. The body next to him is nothing any longer.
Johan is here. Johan is clean and still, the perfect marble god as untouched as ever by the carnage he leaves strewn behind wherever he goes.
Johan is untouched.
Roberto's eyes close when Johan's hand settles on his arm. He feels Johan's breath at his ear, and he wonders what comes next. He might hope, a little bit.
He feels a hint of a tongue at his neck. He opens his eyes and moves quickly; his arms around Johan and...
"Roberto," says Johan, quiet and without emotion, and Roberto stops in an instant, perfectly still except for his eyes. His eyes seek any hint of what Johan might be feeling, if he feels anything.
Johan's eyes are wide, but not with... well, anything. He is, as ever, the empty god.
Slowly his hands rise to Roberto's neck; settle there and squeeze.
Roberto cannot help but shudder, with displeasure or pleasure he isn't sure. It hardly matters.
Johan's grip slowly loosens, and Roberto is not sure if he misses it or not.
He wouldn't have been surprised if Johan had kept on squeezing until he was dead, not really.
"Alright," says Johan, slowly, and possibly with a hint of emotion, finally: a vague curiosity.
Title: Once Upon A Dream
Fandom: Death Note
Word count: 217
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note
Pairing: Misa/Light
Prompt: Death Note, Misa/Light,
It isn't that hard, boy, to like you or love you
I'd follow you down, down, down
Lana Del Rey, Million Dollar Man
Misa dreams:
that she and Light are angels in Heaven, so beautiful and so bright. Light is the brightest of all, of course, and he makes wonderful plans to turn the world of humans into such a paradise as is Heaven.
However, even Heaven is not completely free of evil. Certain others plot in turn, to stop Light and his wonderful plans.
And they succeed.
Light screams as he plummets down, down, down into the void. Misa cries out in horror and claps her hands over her ears. When she lowers them, she sees that they are covered in warm red liquid like strawberry syrup.
She realises that she is shaking. "Light!" she screams, and she sounds like nothing human, perhaps something more like a mighty bird, although not quite that either.
She throws herself over the edge of Heaven and falls down, down, down into the void. It hurts like the fires of stars are burning her skin and her insides; she is unravelling.
And then she wakes up.
"Light," she whispers into the dark. "Do you ever have this dream?"
She has been dreaming this ever since she met him, and every time it feels a little more real, and all her life before Light feels a little less real.
It doesn't really worry her.
Title: The Computer
Fandom: Carmilla + Doctor Who
Word count: 216
Disclaimer: I don't own Carmilla or Doctor Who
Warnings: Femslash
Pairing: Carmilla/Laura
Prompt: any historical fandom, any, anachronisms
"Carmilla! Carmilla!"
Mircalla, the Countess Karnstein - forever Carmilla to her beloved one - opened her eyes, blinked several times, and stretched languidly. "What is it, darling?"
"What is that?"
Mircalla turned her head to look at where Laura was pointing, and then gave a quiet chuckle. "That is a computer. Now, darling, come back to the coffin."
"Con...pew...tar?"
"It is a computer, a laptop. I wonder if it has any battery left."
Laura looked away from the computer and stared at Mircalla instead. "What?"
"It is from the future..."
"The future?"
"Don't shriek, darling. This is what happened: some centuries ago I met a peculiar man who called himself a time agent. He was exceedingly charming, although obviously not to my taste for an intimate companion, and he took me to the future for one night."
Laura's eyes were wide and her mouth slightly open. "But... that... what..."
"It was really quite lovely. My darling, we need only endure throughout the centuries that lie ahead of us and we shall see such wonders. Why, there will come a time when we shall be allowed to marry, if we so wish it."
Laura's eyebrows rose and she shook her head. "No, that cannot possibly be."
"It will, darling. You'll see. Now, come back to the grave."
Laura came.
Title: Starting Over
Fandom: Harry Potter
Word count: 499
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling
Warnings: Alternate continuity, sort of dark!Harry
Prompt: Harry Potter, Harry + Voldemort, AU where the reason Harry survived that night is that two incarnations of the same soul can't kill each other.
From the very beginning of his earliest memory, Tom Riddle felt that he was meant for more. One day, he thought, he would prove it.
He hated the orphanage and the people in it. He was the outsider, the scapegoat, and something deep inside might have whispered not again and nothing ever changes when you're good.
"I'm going to be powerful," he told an adder one morning, "and then no one will push me around or use me."
Something deep inside might have whispered not this time.
~
"Neither can live while the other survives." That was what the seer had said.
Well then. The answer was obvious.
~
Green light, bright and deadly, his own curse turned against him. The tattered remnants of his soul fled from his body, if his body even existed anymore, and all was pain and confusion and in an instant Lord Voldemort remembered.
He was Harry Potter and he was so tired. He was watching a maimed, baby-like creature; a perfect horror that was, he supposed, a Horcrux. So this was what came of cheating death too many times. He felt hollow.
He finally looked away, and met Professor Dumbledore's blue eyes instead. "I suppose I'll catch a train," he said.
Dumbledore bowed his head and faded away into light, and Harry was left to wait for the train alone.
He waited and waited. Doubt started to stir, and all he could do was stand and think.
"I want to start over," he eventually concluded, his voice quiet and musing, "but I don't want to be the Boy Who Lived."
No sooner had he spoken the train finally arrived, silent and looming out of fog that he had not noticed before. He boarded and sat. The train started to move.
And then he was a newborn baby, wailing with his first breath. "Tom Marvolo Riddle," he heard, only just, and then there were more words but he was too surprised to pay attention, and then a flurry of movement.
"She's dead," said a strange voice.
Oh, he thought, and fell silent.
He remained silent until he no longer remembered why.
~
"Harry, Harry, Harry," murmured Voldemort as he twirled his wand between pale, spindly fingers. "You don't know who I am."
Harry lifted his head and glared defiance. "I know who you are," he spat. "You're Voldemort, you're Tom Riddle!"
"Wormtail was mistaken, Harry," Voldemort continued as though there had been no interruption. "The ritual for my resurrection never required blood of the enemy."
"What do you mean?" Harry was still defiant, but Voldemort could see the undercurrent of uncertainty. After all...
"Listen," he said. "I will tell you about yourself and you will wonder how I know. Then I will tell you why neither can live while the other survives. Don't you think that's interesting wording for a prophecy?"
He could never kill Harry Potter, he knew that now. He hoped to draw him into his web instead.
After all, he knew everything about him.
Title: Apostle of Destruction
Fandom: Monster
Word count: 396
Disclaimer: Monster belongs to Naoki Urasawa
Warnings: Roberto. Johan. They're both messed up. Also slash, and a swearword used literally. Mentions of gratuitious murder.
Pairing: Roberto/Johan
Prompt: Monster, Roberto/Johan, devotion.
The procession of Roberto's memories begins with Kinderheim 511. It is his birthplace and his nursery, or it might as well be. In any case, it has created his world.
What is the scenery of the end?
The boy that appears to him is beautiful, perfect of feature and form, and he has the empty eyes of an empty god. He says that he has no name, but he sometimes likes to go by Johan.
Of course the god of the end would have no name.
Johan, who actually is nameless, has risen from the ashes of Kinderheim 511. He is greater than anything that place could have hoped to produce, and Roberto will worship him and follow after him for a chance to see the end that has been promised by his eyes.
Johan is destruction. Roberto is an apostle of destruction.
Roberto likes women, or rather he likes sex with women, but a body is a body. He fucks and kills and none of it can hold a candle to Johan.
There is blood spattered on him, and some other bodily fluids. The body next to him is nothing any longer.
Johan is here. Johan is clean and still, the perfect marble god as untouched as ever by the carnage he leaves strewn behind wherever he goes.
Johan is untouched.
Roberto's eyes close when Johan's hand settles on his arm. He feels Johan's breath at his ear, and he wonders what comes next. He might hope, a little bit.
He feels a hint of a tongue at his neck. He opens his eyes and moves quickly; his arms around Johan and...
"Roberto," says Johan, quiet and without emotion, and Roberto stops in an instant, perfectly still except for his eyes. His eyes seek any hint of what Johan might be feeling, if he feels anything.
Johan's eyes are wide, but not with... well, anything. He is, as ever, the empty god.
Slowly his hands rise to Roberto's neck; settle there and squeeze.
Roberto cannot help but shudder, with displeasure or pleasure he isn't sure. It hardly matters.
Johan's grip slowly loosens, and Roberto is not sure if he misses it or not.
He wouldn't have been surprised if Johan had kept on squeezing until he was dead, not really.
"Alright," says Johan, slowly, and possibly with a hint of emotion, finally: a vague curiosity.
Title: Once Upon A Dream
Fandom: Death Note
Word count: 217
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note
Pairing: Misa/Light
Prompt: Death Note, Misa/Light,
It isn't that hard, boy, to like you or love you
I'd follow you down, down, down
Lana Del Rey, Million Dollar Man
Misa dreams:
that she and Light are angels in Heaven, so beautiful and so bright. Light is the brightest of all, of course, and he makes wonderful plans to turn the world of humans into such a paradise as is Heaven.
However, even Heaven is not completely free of evil. Certain others plot in turn, to stop Light and his wonderful plans.
And they succeed.
Light screams as he plummets down, down, down into the void. Misa cries out in horror and claps her hands over her ears. When she lowers them, she sees that they are covered in warm red liquid like strawberry syrup.
She realises that she is shaking. "Light!" she screams, and she sounds like nothing human, perhaps something more like a mighty bird, although not quite that either.
She throws herself over the edge of Heaven and falls down, down, down into the void. It hurts like the fires of stars are burning her skin and her insides; she is unravelling.
And then she wakes up.
"Light," she whispers into the dark. "Do you ever have this dream?"
She has been dreaming this ever since she met him, and every time it feels a little more real, and all her life before Light feels a little less real.
It doesn't really worry her.
Title: The Computer
Fandom: Carmilla + Doctor Who
Word count: 216
Disclaimer: I don't own Carmilla or Doctor Who
Warnings: Femslash
Pairing: Carmilla/Laura
Prompt: any historical fandom, any, anachronisms
"Carmilla! Carmilla!"
Mircalla, the Countess Karnstein - forever Carmilla to her beloved one - opened her eyes, blinked several times, and stretched languidly. "What is it, darling?"
"What is that?"
Mircalla turned her head to look at where Laura was pointing, and then gave a quiet chuckle. "That is a computer. Now, darling, come back to the coffin."
"Con...pew...tar?"
"It is a computer, a laptop. I wonder if it has any battery left."
Laura looked away from the computer and stared at Mircalla instead. "What?"
"It is from the future..."
"The future?"
"Don't shriek, darling. This is what happened: some centuries ago I met a peculiar man who called himself a time agent. He was exceedingly charming, although obviously not to my taste for an intimate companion, and he took me to the future for one night."
Laura's eyes were wide and her mouth slightly open. "But... that... what..."
"It was really quite lovely. My darling, we need only endure throughout the centuries that lie ahead of us and we shall see such wonders. Why, there will come a time when we shall be allowed to marry, if we so wish it."
Laura's eyebrows rose and she shook her head. "No, that cannot possibly be."
"It will, darling. You'll see. Now, come back to the grave."
Laura came.