comment_fic 1166 - 1170: RPF, original, HL
Title: welcome home
Fandom: RPF
Disclaimer: they belong to themselves (or each other)
Warnings: takes place in 2010, during the Live Shows
Pairings: Louis Tomlinson/Harry Styles
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 285
Point of view: third
Prompt: Any, Any/Any Male,
I want to buy you flowers
It's such a shame you're a boy
But when you are not a girl
Nobody buys you flowers
I want to buy you flowers
And now I'm standing in the shop
I must confess I wonder
If you will like my flowers
He's dreamed of having someone to greet in the morning with kisses and cuddles, someone to share tea and breakfast with, someone to serenade whenever either of them likes, someone to walk dogs and straighten the house with (though, honestly, he knows he won't be much good at that), someone to choose a house with, to decorate and cherish their home-he's dreamed of finding his home in someone, of being that someone's home.
He helped Mum and Dad with his sisters, watched out for the younger kids at school, and then at bootcamp for a television show he still marvels that he auditioned for, and all the while, he dated Hannah. They went to parties, to films, on walks. He gave her sweets and flowers, and she cheered him on during rehearsal for both the play and the band, and yet...
None of his dreams of the future included her.
And then he met Harry Styles.
All his life, Louis has dreamed of what his future holds. He's named his children, plotted out how he wanted everything to go.
It's utterly mad, innit, to realize he's found his home at 18 years old? But he has, he's sure of it.
And his home is blushing, chewing on his lower lip, slowly bringing his hand from behind his back, holding a single flower. "For you," Harry says, so brilliant and so nervous.
Louis has spent most of his life imagining all the ways he'd romance his wife-it's delightful to realize he'll be competing against his husband to be the more romantic.
But for now, he carefully takes the stem, doing his best not to blush, and pulls Harry in for a kiss.
Title: freedom’s flight
Written: October 28, 2015
Prompts: Greek mythology, releasing Pegasus ; Any, Feathers from Pegasus
This is a story of a
horse born of blood
who danced across the sky.
Gods and men alike
hungered to ride
the winged steed who dared to fly.
But such a beast,
created from death,
could only be cursed, yes?
He neighed a warning,
bugled from one end of
the earth to the other
for none could catch
much less tame
a son of the horizon.
And how they tried,
men and gods alike.
Foolish and lusting,
with bridle and tack formed
for no less a purpose
than harnessing a moonbeam;
they chased after
the horse born of blood,
seeking to tame a star.
I tell you now,
as my mother told me,
twirling a feather of stardust and water.
There are some things, daughter,
she said, feather dancing across her fingers,
that cannot be broken.
There are some things, she murmured,
gazing up at a dark sky full of stars,
that gods and men alike
will break themselves trying to break.
There are some things, she laughed,
holding out a feather pale as bone,
as long as my forearm,
there are some things, child,
that men and gods alike will never understand.
I tell you now,
as my mother told me,
for you are my daughter
and old enough now to know.
There is a horse born of blood
who dances across the sky.
Do you see him?
He returns when he wishes to,
for treats and for somewhere to rest.
He does not come when called -
Remember that.
He is not tamed,
has never been broken.
But as he was born of blood,
and as we bleed with the cycle of the moon,
he is ours as we are his, daughter.
Remember, my sweet -
Men and gods alike long to ride him
far up in the sky, horizon to horizon.
What they seek to take,
he offers to us freely.
Do you see this feather?
It is the only one he ever shed.
Magic does as it wills,
whatever gods or men say.
Look up at the sky.
Freedom is ours,
as long as we know it cannot be tamed.
Title: Night
Written: October 28, 2015
Prompts: any. any. There are old tales of a yellow light in the sky. ; author's choice, any, I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky (The Rolling Stones, "Paint It, Black") ; any, any, looking up to the clear night sky and seeing no stars
We have forgotten how it felt
when warmth fell down from the sky.
Once, ages ago, I’m told
there was a light burning bright
high up there in the sky.
There were so many
dotting the night with little lights.
Can you imagine such a sight?
My darling love, how warm it was,
how bright and beautiful.
We have forgotten oh so much.
But legends tell of that star above
and legends tell of how it died.
Oh, how it died!
Do you see the light of the fire
thrown up and out into the sky?
It lit everything aglow;
it must have been so very beautiful,
more than I can fathom -
more than I’ve ever dreamed.
We have forgotten
and only have stories now.
It is so cold;
do you know what daylight means?
Once the sky was warm, I think,
Once, stars could be seen.
Fire fades, it seems,
embers and ashes and a long ago dream.
Once, there was a fire in the sky
and all was alive,
and I remember the stories my grandmother would tell -
I have forgotten so many
but this one I know.
Come, my love, sit by the fire.
It is the very last of all
and when it goes…
Listen and do not fear.
Let my words warm you,
cling tight to my hand.
Once, all was warm and bright,
until the warmth fell from the sky.
But before that, oh, it was so grand -
It is dark now, always.
But once, I swear to you,
there were lights that lit up the night.
Title: The Quiet Ending
Written: October 28, 2015 ; October 30, 2015
Original, PG
Prompt: any. any/any. I can't remember what brought us to this.
Note: After I showed my mom the first half, she wanted the other perspective.
Do you remember how we met?
I asked you for a pen,
To fill out a job application.
You were sitting at the counter
Of the Starbucks I always went to
But I’d never seen you before.
You smiled at me, I remember that.
You smiled and
Held out the pen you were using for Sudoku
And I asked, “You do that in pen?”
You replied, “You don’t?”
I didn’t get the job, remember?
But I saw you again two weeks later
Sitting at that same counter.
I saw you again and I thought, why not?
I thought, what’s the worst that could happen?
I didn’t think it’d be this.
We don’t even slam doors anymore.
We haven’t argued in three months.
I fix our tea in the morning
And you do the dishes
And I keep up with the laundry
And we share the paper without a word.
I don’t know when I fell out of love with you.
We were so happy
And I don’t know when it faded.
I don’t know where it went,
Our sense of adventure, our delight in everything.
what’s the worst that could happen? I asked myself
And then I asked you out for a coffee.
And you smiled at me, looking up from your book,
And you said, “We’re already in a coffee shop.”
I bought you a cakepop
And I laughed at your terrible jokes
And I told you some of my secrets
And you shared your own.
Looking back, we were so young then.
Looking back, I miss so much.
I don’t know where it went.
I don’t know when I fell out of love with you.
Do you know the day you stopped loving me?
I don’t want to say goodbye
But I can’t keep living this half-life.
It doesn’t even hurt anymore
And that’s the only reason I cry.
I gave you all of me and took all of you
But now there aren’t even embers.
I was so happy, once.
I want to be happy again.
Do you remember how we met?
One day, I’ll look back and I’ll ask myself,
do you remember how you walked away?
I know you won’t call my name, won’t ask me to come back.
I know we’ll never kiss again, or hold hands, or dance.
I know you’ll never smile at me again,
That bright grin I first saw in Starbucks.
I know it’s over, has been for a while,
Dying a slow death while we went through the motions.
I’m not sure what I’ll miss more:
Who you actually were,
Who I thought you were,
Who I was with you,
Or who I thought I was when I loved you.
I did love you.
I know that you loved me.
I don’t know when it stopped.
I would’ve fought, once.
I don’t know how we’ve reached the point
Where I’m content to walk away.
…
I noticed in the spring,
When the world began to warm-
I didn’t smile at you much anymore.
Our days continued on and in the heat of summer rain,
I looked at you and noticed how you always looked away.
Could I have saved us then?
It’s possible, I suppose.
And I realized then I didn’t want to
Because I didn’t love you anymore.
When did it fade away?
I don’t know.
Why don’t I care anymore?
I don’t know that either.
But I did love you so much for so long
And I think I’m staying now
‘cause I don’t know who I am if you’re gone.
If I had known where lending you that pen would lead;
If I had known it would end with both hearts breaking;
If I had known this awful silence would result,
Avoiding glances across the table,
Sharing meals without a word-
I think I would still have handed it to you,
Still would have smiled at you,
Still would have sat there with you
Because what we had was so beautiful
And all beautiful things fade.
You flirted adorably
And I fell completely
And here we are.
It’s over, I know, but I’m afraid.
Who am I alone?
I try to smile at you but cannot hold it.
I try to speak to you but the words stay on my tongue.
I miss your lips and your arms;
I miss how we used to dance, terribly but laughing all the while.
I miss the days when our love was young.
I noticed in the spring
And now the year is turning.
I know that you’re walking away now,
An ending a long time coming.
I don’t know when the ending started;
I don’t know how it’s come to this.
So many words I never said;
So many things I never did;
So many hopes languishing -
Who am I without you?
I guess now I’ll have to learn.
I’ll miss you -
But is it you
Or the you in my memory?
I smiled at you;
I laughed with you;
I loved you.
But it’s all gone now
And while I was happy once,
I know I’ll be happy again.
Title: paths diverged
Fandom: Highlander
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from a Robert Frost poem
Warnings: references to violence
Pairings: none stated
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 220
Point of view: third
Prompt: author's choice, any, what could've happened if Character A and Character B had never fought each other
In his nightmares, Methos sees thousands of lives he could've lived, had he chosen differently. Walked a different path, stayed somewhere longer, waited to see the end of the battle before moving on.
The worst, perhaps, is the life where he never turned on Kronos. Never betrayed him, put him in the well. Where he stayed with his brothers and instead of a mere continent, they ruled the world, god-kings triumphant as no one had been before or would ever be again.
Kronos had so many dreams, Methos knows. He is now the only one who does.
But he never acknowledges in the nightmares, what he cannot escape knowing when awake, is that for all that Kronos wanted the four of them to rule the world, only Methos would've been any good at it. Silas would have faltered beneath the responsibility, honestly too simple to understand. Caspian would've bled the world dry until they ruled a husk with no people left. And Kronos... he hadn't the patience for anyone he considered lesser, and everyone was lesser save his brothers.
It would've been Methos' world to rule, and while he knows he would excel, he's always preferred the shadows.
In the nightmares of another life, he never admits what hurts so very much while awake: it all would have ended the same.
Fandom: RPF
Disclaimer: they belong to themselves (or each other)
Warnings: takes place in 2010, during the Live Shows
Pairings: Louis Tomlinson/Harry Styles
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 285
Point of view: third
Prompt: Any, Any/Any Male,
I want to buy you flowers
It's such a shame you're a boy
But when you are not a girl
Nobody buys you flowers
I want to buy you flowers
And now I'm standing in the shop
I must confess I wonder
If you will like my flowers
He's dreamed of having someone to greet in the morning with kisses and cuddles, someone to share tea and breakfast with, someone to serenade whenever either of them likes, someone to walk dogs and straighten the house with (though, honestly, he knows he won't be much good at that), someone to choose a house with, to decorate and cherish their home-he's dreamed of finding his home in someone, of being that someone's home.
He helped Mum and Dad with his sisters, watched out for the younger kids at school, and then at bootcamp for a television show he still marvels that he auditioned for, and all the while, he dated Hannah. They went to parties, to films, on walks. He gave her sweets and flowers, and she cheered him on during rehearsal for both the play and the band, and yet...
None of his dreams of the future included her.
And then he met Harry Styles.
All his life, Louis has dreamed of what his future holds. He's named his children, plotted out how he wanted everything to go.
It's utterly mad, innit, to realize he's found his home at 18 years old? But he has, he's sure of it.
And his home is blushing, chewing on his lower lip, slowly bringing his hand from behind his back, holding a single flower. "For you," Harry says, so brilliant and so nervous.
Louis has spent most of his life imagining all the ways he'd romance his wife-it's delightful to realize he'll be competing against his husband to be the more romantic.
But for now, he carefully takes the stem, doing his best not to blush, and pulls Harry in for a kiss.
Title: freedom’s flight
Written: October 28, 2015
Prompts: Greek mythology, releasing Pegasus ; Any, Feathers from Pegasus
This is a story of a
horse born of blood
who danced across the sky.
Gods and men alike
hungered to ride
the winged steed who dared to fly.
But such a beast,
created from death,
could only be cursed, yes?
He neighed a warning,
bugled from one end of
the earth to the other
for none could catch
much less tame
a son of the horizon.
And how they tried,
men and gods alike.
Foolish and lusting,
with bridle and tack formed
for no less a purpose
than harnessing a moonbeam;
they chased after
the horse born of blood,
seeking to tame a star.
I tell you now,
as my mother told me,
twirling a feather of stardust and water.
There are some things, daughter,
she said, feather dancing across her fingers,
that cannot be broken.
There are some things, she murmured,
gazing up at a dark sky full of stars,
that gods and men alike
will break themselves trying to break.
There are some things, she laughed,
holding out a feather pale as bone,
as long as my forearm,
there are some things, child,
that men and gods alike will never understand.
I tell you now,
as my mother told me,
for you are my daughter
and old enough now to know.
There is a horse born of blood
who dances across the sky.
Do you see him?
He returns when he wishes to,
for treats and for somewhere to rest.
He does not come when called -
Remember that.
He is not tamed,
has never been broken.
But as he was born of blood,
and as we bleed with the cycle of the moon,
he is ours as we are his, daughter.
Remember, my sweet -
Men and gods alike long to ride him
far up in the sky, horizon to horizon.
What they seek to take,
he offers to us freely.
Do you see this feather?
It is the only one he ever shed.
Magic does as it wills,
whatever gods or men say.
Look up at the sky.
Freedom is ours,
as long as we know it cannot be tamed.
Title: Night
Written: October 28, 2015
Prompts: any. any. There are old tales of a yellow light in the sky. ; author's choice, any, I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky (The Rolling Stones, "Paint It, Black") ; any, any, looking up to the clear night sky and seeing no stars
We have forgotten how it felt
when warmth fell down from the sky.
Once, ages ago, I’m told
there was a light burning bright
high up there in the sky.
There were so many
dotting the night with little lights.
Can you imagine such a sight?
My darling love, how warm it was,
how bright and beautiful.
We have forgotten oh so much.
But legends tell of that star above
and legends tell of how it died.
Oh, how it died!
Do you see the light of the fire
thrown up and out into the sky?
It lit everything aglow;
it must have been so very beautiful,
more than I can fathom -
more than I’ve ever dreamed.
We have forgotten
and only have stories now.
It is so cold;
do you know what daylight means?
Once the sky was warm, I think,
Once, stars could be seen.
Fire fades, it seems,
embers and ashes and a long ago dream.
Once, there was a fire in the sky
and all was alive,
and I remember the stories my grandmother would tell -
I have forgotten so many
but this one I know.
Come, my love, sit by the fire.
It is the very last of all
and when it goes…
Listen and do not fear.
Let my words warm you,
cling tight to my hand.
Once, all was warm and bright,
until the warmth fell from the sky.
But before that, oh, it was so grand -
It is dark now, always.
But once, I swear to you,
there were lights that lit up the night.
Title: The Quiet Ending
Written: October 28, 2015 ; October 30, 2015
Original, PG
Prompt: any. any/any. I can't remember what brought us to this.
Note: After I showed my mom the first half, she wanted the other perspective.
Do you remember how we met?
I asked you for a pen,
To fill out a job application.
You were sitting at the counter
Of the Starbucks I always went to
But I’d never seen you before.
You smiled at me, I remember that.
You smiled and
Held out the pen you were using for Sudoku
And I asked, “You do that in pen?”
You replied, “You don’t?”
I didn’t get the job, remember?
But I saw you again two weeks later
Sitting at that same counter.
I saw you again and I thought, why not?
I thought, what’s the worst that could happen?
I didn’t think it’d be this.
We don’t even slam doors anymore.
We haven’t argued in three months.
I fix our tea in the morning
And you do the dishes
And I keep up with the laundry
And we share the paper without a word.
I don’t know when I fell out of love with you.
We were so happy
And I don’t know when it faded.
I don’t know where it went,
Our sense of adventure, our delight in everything.
what’s the worst that could happen? I asked myself
And then I asked you out for a coffee.
And you smiled at me, looking up from your book,
And you said, “We’re already in a coffee shop.”
I bought you a cakepop
And I laughed at your terrible jokes
And I told you some of my secrets
And you shared your own.
Looking back, we were so young then.
Looking back, I miss so much.
I don’t know where it went.
I don’t know when I fell out of love with you.
Do you know the day you stopped loving me?
I don’t want to say goodbye
But I can’t keep living this half-life.
It doesn’t even hurt anymore
And that’s the only reason I cry.
I gave you all of me and took all of you
But now there aren’t even embers.
I was so happy, once.
I want to be happy again.
Do you remember how we met?
One day, I’ll look back and I’ll ask myself,
do you remember how you walked away?
I know you won’t call my name, won’t ask me to come back.
I know we’ll never kiss again, or hold hands, or dance.
I know you’ll never smile at me again,
That bright grin I first saw in Starbucks.
I know it’s over, has been for a while,
Dying a slow death while we went through the motions.
I’m not sure what I’ll miss more:
Who you actually were,
Who I thought you were,
Who I was with you,
Or who I thought I was when I loved you.
I did love you.
I know that you loved me.
I don’t know when it stopped.
I would’ve fought, once.
I don’t know how we’ve reached the point
Where I’m content to walk away.
…
I noticed in the spring,
When the world began to warm-
I didn’t smile at you much anymore.
Our days continued on and in the heat of summer rain,
I looked at you and noticed how you always looked away.
Could I have saved us then?
It’s possible, I suppose.
And I realized then I didn’t want to
Because I didn’t love you anymore.
When did it fade away?
I don’t know.
Why don’t I care anymore?
I don’t know that either.
But I did love you so much for so long
And I think I’m staying now
‘cause I don’t know who I am if you’re gone.
If I had known where lending you that pen would lead;
If I had known it would end with both hearts breaking;
If I had known this awful silence would result,
Avoiding glances across the table,
Sharing meals without a word-
I think I would still have handed it to you,
Still would have smiled at you,
Still would have sat there with you
Because what we had was so beautiful
And all beautiful things fade.
You flirted adorably
And I fell completely
And here we are.
It’s over, I know, but I’m afraid.
Who am I alone?
I try to smile at you but cannot hold it.
I try to speak to you but the words stay on my tongue.
I miss your lips and your arms;
I miss how we used to dance, terribly but laughing all the while.
I miss the days when our love was young.
I noticed in the spring
And now the year is turning.
I know that you’re walking away now,
An ending a long time coming.
I don’t know when the ending started;
I don’t know how it’s come to this.
So many words I never said;
So many things I never did;
So many hopes languishing -
Who am I without you?
I guess now I’ll have to learn.
I’ll miss you -
But is it you
Or the you in my memory?
I smiled at you;
I laughed with you;
I loved you.
But it’s all gone now
And while I was happy once,
I know I’ll be happy again.
Title: paths diverged
Fandom: Highlander
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from a Robert Frost poem
Warnings: references to violence
Pairings: none stated
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 220
Point of view: third
Prompt: author's choice, any, what could've happened if Character A and Character B had never fought each other
In his nightmares, Methos sees thousands of lives he could've lived, had he chosen differently. Walked a different path, stayed somewhere longer, waited to see the end of the battle before moving on.
The worst, perhaps, is the life where he never turned on Kronos. Never betrayed him, put him in the well. Where he stayed with his brothers and instead of a mere continent, they ruled the world, god-kings triumphant as no one had been before or would ever be again.
Kronos had so many dreams, Methos knows. He is now the only one who does.
But he never acknowledges in the nightmares, what he cannot escape knowing when awake, is that for all that Kronos wanted the four of them to rule the world, only Methos would've been any good at it. Silas would have faltered beneath the responsibility, honestly too simple to understand. Caspian would've bled the world dry until they ruled a husk with no people left. And Kronos... he hadn't the patience for anyone he considered lesser, and everyone was lesser save his brothers.
It would've been Methos' world to rule, and while he knows he would excel, he's always preferred the shadows.
In the nightmares of another life, he never admits what hurts so very much while awake: it all would have ended the same.