Daz is evil...
yes, i gave in and did her little mp3 thingie. it was fun, i admit. and challenging, but not in the same way the prompt pieces i did were challenging. which, by the way, i'm willing to do more of. i only need prompts. (hint, hint). i chose two fandoms to work with instead of one and went with varied characters. i hope i did well enough with them. i figure i spent about an hour or so doing these. i also included the length of the song to explain why some are really short and some are longer. that also depended upon what my brain spit up at me. hope you enjoy.
for those not in the know, here are the rules to this little writing game:
1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn on your mp3 player and put it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a mini fic about each song that you play. You start when the song starts, and stop when it has played twice. No lingering afterwards! You can finish a sentence, but that's it!
4. Do ten of these, and then post them.
here are my offerings...
Amazing Grace by the Rogues time - 3:43
His beauty is like none I have ever seen and shall likely never encounter again in all my long lived days. There is no one who shines so brightly as he does, no one who makes me wish that things could have been different. That I could have been different. And it sorrows me to know that he doesn't believe my feelings for him are true, that nothing has changed.
I watch him as he stares at the portrait, his eyes holding long lost memories too painful to recall. I wish I could comfort him, wish that I could offer him some sense of peace. But there is nothing I can do. After all, it is through my actions that we have been brought to this place and time. Still, I would have him with me as he is than to spend the rest of my life without him at him side.
I love him. Whether he chooses to believe that or not, I cannot say. It is the truth and, as they say, the truth is sometimes a more bitter pill to swallow than a lie. I cannot tell him enough how much I love him, how deeply my feelings run for him. And I cannot bear to think upon my failures to him. If I had the power, I would reach back through time to change what those things that hurt him the most.
He turns and catches me staring. For a moment, I wonder if he will retreat into his anger. If he will wield it against me like a blade, use it to cleave my heart in two. I would die for him, would give my life and the very blood in my veins for him. I would do anything required to make things right between us once again. I dislike seeing him so sad, seeing him brood his days away as if there is nothing left to live for. As if I am not enough.
A smile draws his lips up and he shifts closer to me on the couch. He is my light and I am drawn to him as a moth to a flame. Is it any wonder I love him? Any wonder that I would be lost without him?
"What are you thinking, Jean-Claude?" he asks me, his voice soft and low. He sounds as if he is afraid of my answer.
"Je t'aime, Asher."
On My Way Home by Enya time - 3:38
The lights in the distance were bright against the darkened sky. It felt like ages since I'd seen them this way, even though it had only been a week or two. Time had lost its meaning after the slaughter I'd been forced to witness. I put more of my foot on the gas pedal and the car leapt forward, as eager as I was for my home.
Home. What a funny word.
I pondered going to the Circus or going to my house. I wasn't sure where I most wanted to be right now. With the living or the dead? I thought of my bed and the two men who shared it with me. Thought of the big bathtub that awaited me in my own bathroom. But then blue eyes flashed across my vision and the choice was made. I flipped the blinker and turned a corner, heading for the Circus. I needed the silent comfort that Jean-Claude could offer me
He was waiting for me outside the back door when I pulled up. There was little light here, as only employees used this entrance. Since it couldn't be opened from the outside and the only employees here were either lycanthropes or the undead, there was no need for much light. I smiled to see him, the dark blue silk of his shirt hugging his form as the wind teased it, tugged at his hair. Damn, I'd missed him.
He said nothing when I finally stood before him. There was no need. I could see what he wanted to say in his eyes, on his face. He'd missed me and was happy to see me. He didn't know how badly I needed that silent reassurance. Then I was in his arms and he was kissing me, the depth of his emotions in that one gesture and I knew I'd made the right choice.
Tonight, I needed the comfort of his embrace, the silent presence of his strength. He wouldn't ask questions and I could sleep, knowing I was safe.
And loved.
Say Hello 2 Heaven by Temple of the Dog time - 6:24
Holding her in my arms is a joy I never thought would be mine. For far too long, I'd felt alone and unwanted. Cursed by the scars that ravage my flesh. And yet, she loves me as I am and is not repulsed by my looks. She sees me as a man. Not some freak. How could she love me so? How could she not notice that I am flawed and imperfect. I am not the beauty that Jean-Claude is. I am imperfect and unworthy of her affections.
Her skin glows with the dew of sweat, her hair clinging to her face. The rosy blush that stains her cheeks is an affirmation of her devotion to us both. She lays caught between us, Jean-Claude spooning her body while her arms are twined around me. Her head rests on my shoulder. Sweet, delicate perfection. An angel with night wing hair. A tiny goddess of death and desire. As always, I am awed that she has chosen to share herself with me
I watch as a sleepy smile slides across her face and brightens the look in her eyes. My hand lifts, strokes across her cheek and into her hair. When she turns her gaze up to me, I see the love shining from them. Something in my chest tightens at it. Will the wonder and awe never cease? Will I ever be able to accept her feelings without questions and concerns? Will I never know the simple pleasure of a woman's love without distrusting it?
"Stop that," she whispers to me, reaching up to slide her fingers across the ruined flesh on my face. "You know I wouldn't be here if I didn't love you, Asher. Stop punishing yourself for my feelings."
"I am sorry, cherie," I reply. And I am. I do not mean to doubt her love for me. I simply cannot help it. Centuries of scars and being shunned after having once been so beautiful have worn deep into my mind.
"Ma petite is correct, Asher. There is no need to question her feelings for you. They are as genuine as my own. We both love you," Jean-Claude tells me, looking at me over the dark curls of Anita's hair. I nod. I cannot speak for the lump in my throat.
"Forgive my melancholy. I do not mean to bring it into our bed."
"There's nothing to forgive, Asher," Anita shifts. She draws herself up until her face is level with mine. And then her lips touch my own, a small and gentle touch meant to soothe and reassure. It does, inflames my desire for her further. As if she knows my thoughts, she climbs up on top of me and straddles my hips. "I think its time to show you how much we both love you."
And they do.
Darkness by Rage Against the Machine time - 3:41
There were bodies strewn and scattered across the floor like a child's dolls thrown about in a tantrum. Blood pooled under them, soaking their clothes and leaving that distinctive metallic tang in the air. It mingled badly with the scent of fear and the odor of bowels. Death. This wasn't a vampire's doing. This kind of brutality belonged to something that had no care for life and only lived for killing. Destruction and chaos.
My gaze flicked to him, so calm and unmoved by the carnage. He generally never was unless someone had pissed him off. I hadn't seen him pissed since New Mexico. I didn't think I ever wanted to see that Edward ever again.
He was studying the scene, the gun in his hand pointed at the floor in a lazy, relaxed pose. His cold gaze flicked about the room as he catalogued every drop of blood, even gaping wound and every single victim. Every death.
"What did this? I've never seen anything like this." he asked, nothing in his voice to give away his feelings. Or if he was even feeling anything.
"I don't know. I've never seen anything like it, either," I shook my head. My palm was sweaty on the butt of my Browning. I was still on alert, still searching with my other senses to be sure that we were alone. I didn't want whatever had done this to sneak up on us when we weren't looking.
A whimper caught my ears, the sound so small in the silence of the house that it sounded loud and unending. Edward's head tilted, then he was stalking from the room, his trench coat swirling around his ankles. I followed behind him, ready to shoot anything that came our way. Something about this made me nervous. I didn't like it at all.
It was in the next room, all wrong angles and darkened shadows. It was stalking a child, a scared little boy with wide eyes who was whimpering like a beat dog. I lifted the Browning, ready to fire, but it was already too late.
Death had come for it.
Like You by Evanescence time - 4:17
She was so mad, she was shaking. I'd already drawn her into my arms in an attempt to try and calm her down. But she was past that point. She was as close to irrational as she ever got. Not that I blamed her. Richard always seemed to have that effect on her. This time was no different than any others.
"Get out," she snarled at him and I could feel her beast shifting beneath her skin. If she'd been a true lycanthrope like Richard or myself, she'd have already lost control and shifted. As it was, she was caught on the verge. I knew it was painful for her there. I knew she was in agony and that only made it worse for her. "Get out before I shoot you!"
"You won't shoot me, Anita. You can't," Richard sounded so sure of himself. So smug. Did he really think she wouldn't pull the trigger? It didn't matter what she felt for him. She'd do it if she said she would. Anita never backed down and never broke her word.
"Fucking get out!" She was trying to fight me, trying to break my hold on her so that she could go for her gun. I tightened my hold without hurting her, keeping her caught up in the circle of my arms.
"Anita, let it go. He isn't worth it," I told her softly.
"Listen to your pet kitty, Anita," Richard mocked. I didn't dignify his childish comment with a reaction. It confused the Ulfric. His words only angered her further and I wondered if she'd hurt herself.
"I think it would be best if you go, Richard. She's struggling with her control. You're testing it. Go. Now. Before I let her go."
The man stood there and blinked at me, as if he didn't think I would do it. And I was tempted. He was the biggest problem Anita had. And he always made her feel bad about herself. Always. Just because he didn't understand who she was. Or what she was. She was something more than simply a necromancer, more than simply Jean-Claude's human servant. Something more than his Lupa and my Nimir-Ra. She was just more. And he didn't understand.
The problem with letting her go was she'd shoot him. And then she'd regret it. She still loved him, no matter what happened between the two of them. It would kill her to hurt him. I wished that it was night. Damian could soothe her, ease her anger.
"Just go, Richard."
Spiriti by The Mediæval Bæbes time - 1:28
I wonder if everyone knows that I see the dead now. After the final battle, something in my magic changed. They walk with me, guide me. Help me. The first time it happened, I thought I was going mad. I mean, that was easy, wasn't it? To lose your mind. And I'd been through so much.
Now, though, it was second nature to consult them and find out what they thought about things. What they thought I should do with the more important aspects of my life. I'd even grown to enjoy it. Not that I could tell anyone about it. The first time I'd mentioned seeing ghosts, talking to them, to my friends, they'd given me that look that suggested that they would perhaps take me to St. Mungo's and have me committed.
Not that I blamed them.
There were times when I still thought I was completely mad. Maybe I was.
Look to Your Orb for the Warning by Monster Magnet time: 4:42
The prophecies shone dimply in the near darkness of the room. They weren't supposed to be here and they knew that. But they had to come see, come look at the places where it had started in earnest. They'd all heard the stories. But no one had believed that the Ministry could hold so many predictions.
Of course, I wasn't as vast as it once had been. Not since He Who Must Not Be Named had lured Harry Potter here to grasp hold of the prophecy that involved the two of them. Potter had foiled the attempt. But at what cost? He and Potter both had lost family that night. His father had been imprisoned and his uncle, a man he hadn't known, had been sent through the Veil. Draco hadn't really known Sirius, but he'd seen some hint of grief touch his mother at the loss.
He stared at the orbs, miles and miles of them, glowing softly on their shelves. "So this is where the first of the battles happened," he whispered softly.
"This is where one of the battles happened," Harry corrected him soflty, some memory painting his words with sorrow and longing. "The first battle for me was first year. Professor Quirrell tried to kill me. He had Voldemort inside of him."
"Did he?" Draco cast a curious look at the brunette standing beside him. Harry nodded. "Then I suppose its a bloody good thing you ended the miserable sod's life."
"Was it?" Harry asked, his voice soft. Draco turned a frown on him.
"Harry, we've been over this before. You did what was needed. Those deaths couldn't have been prevented. If you hadn't killed Quirrell, he would have taken your life."
"That doesn't make what I've done right," Harry insisted.
"Listen to me, you bloody infuriating git. You did what was right. What you had to. If you hadn't, we wouldn't be here now. And, quite frankly, I love you too much to consider life without you. So stop bloody brooding and let's go shag."
"Sounds like a brilliant idea, Draco," Harry smiled. The blonde smirked and took his hand. Of course it was a brilliant idea. Git.
The Wretched by Nine Inch Nails time - 5:25
Azkaban was cold and dark, lifeless. The only thing that lived here was fear and the desire for death. Nightmares floated in the air and screams drove shafts of pain into his head. Why was he here? He could no longer remember what he'd done to deserve this punishment. He didn't know how long he'd been here. All he did know was he was hungry, cold and tired. So tired.
Once, he'd had a warm bed to sleep in, with a warm woman to curl up with. He'd had a home and a family, plenty of food to eat and more money than he'd been able to spend. Now, he was alone and he had nothing. Absolutely nothing.
A key grated in the lock and the door's hinges squealed as it opened. A figure stood in the doorway. "Get up, pig. Come along."
He did as he was told, gaining his feet through sheer stubborn will. His gait was shuffling as he crossed the room and stepped out into the hall. The guard laughed at him and shoved him forward. The two of them traversed the halls in silence, the guard poking him in the back to keep him moving or get him to switch directions. After a long, painful walk, he was brought into a bright room with furniture in it.
The warden was there, staring at him with contempt. And there was someone else there, a face of angelic perfection that saw his heart leaping in his breast. The warden shoved a handful of papers forward. "It would seem, Malfoy, that you've got the luck of the devil. I have release papers here for you. You get to go home."
His eyes sought hers, looking for confirmation from her. She nodded, her expressionless face set to hide what she thought and felt. Joy surged through him. But he held it back. He wouldn't show such feelings here to people who didn't deserve to see them.
"What do I need to do?" he asked.
"Sign here and you're free to go," the warden handed him a quill and a pot of ink. He took the feather in a shaking hand and carefully dipped the nib, carefully scrawled his name where the warden indicated. The door opened and another guard brought him his belongings. They were in a small trunk. He took it gratefully, pleased to finally be leaving. When it was done, the warden smirked up at him. "Do try to come back and visit, Malfoy. We'd love to have you."
"I shall keep that in mind." He took his half of the paperwork, then turned to leave the room. He felt her fall into place behind him. It wasn't until they were outside that he spoke. "I've missed you, Cissa."
"And I you, Lucius. Let's go home."
Home. It sounded wonderful to him.
Releasing the Demons by Godsmack time - 4:12
The nightmare woke me again, dragging me from a night of blissful sleep. I struggled with the blankets and tumbled from my bed. The dreams were getting worse, making a full night's rest impossible to achieve. I fumbled in the dark for my wand, fingers curling around the wooden rod and flicking it dismissively. The candles flickered to life, showing me the starkness of my rooms.
I sought out my favorite method of dealing with the damned dreams, a bottle of Ogden's Old. Pouring myself a generous helping, I settled into a chair and stared at the empty hearth. But I saw in my head another fireplace, filled with the brilliant glow of a merry fire. The flames cast a lovely glow on her pale skin and I felt myself falling into memory.
Her eyes shone in the light from my fire, her lips curved up in a smile of pure joy. I had been younger then, less knowledgeable of the evils of the world. Full of myself and of a hope that I might be given the one thing I'd desired more than anything else in the world. Her.
She was my one true love, the one reason I existed.
Her laughter tinkled in my mind, a sweet and innocent sound that sent waves of heat through my body. Even after so long, I was susceptible to her ample charms and sweet beauty. Even now, I still wanted her as fervently as I had then. And, even now, I could still feel the tumble of emotions that single smile, that lovely laugh, had sent dancing through me.
I'd wanted to ask her then, wanted to proclaim my love for her. I'd wanted to make her mine in every sense of the word. I'd have married her, if she'd said yes. If I'd ever had the courage to ask. If I'd known that she cared. But I'd never asked, I'd never dared. I'd been sure that she'd turn me down. But I'd come close that night, watching her in the light of the fire. Watching the smile swim across her face. Watching her stare at me as if I were truly a man she could be happy with.
Time hadn't been generous to me. I could still recall that evening with painful clarity. I could still hear her melodious laugh. I could still smell the pleasant floral scent that clung to her. And I could still feel the pain of her rejection later, the way my heart had been torn from my chest when she'd moved on and married another.
"I'm sorry, Severus. I love him. I want to marry him. He'll make me happy," she'd whispered.
I shoved it all aside. The one thing I'd wanted that I'd lost. "I love you, too, Lily," I whispered into the shadows.
Feed My Hungry Soul by Lords of Acid time - 4:19
Death surrounded them like a curtain, the smell of it heavy in the air. The screams of the dying rang out, reminding him that the battle still raged. Reminding him that he still had a job to do. Harry stood and moved determinedly through the shadows. He'd been hit with something that had sent him sprawling, had knocked the breath from him. Now it was time to finish this. To end what had been started all those years ago.
Gods above, he was tired. Tired of death and fighting. Tired of trying to find a way to end it all. He only wanted it done, wanted this over with so he could curl up in some darkened corner and lick all of the wounds. How many more had to die before he could end it? How long before he felt like a person again? When would he stop feeling like some... thing meant only to kill and destroy? When would he be himself again?
Images rose in his mind. His mother and father. Cedric. Sirius. Dumbledore. Pain struck through him and drove him on. Voldemort had to be stopped. No matter the cost. And he'd stop him. Even if it meant his death.
"Harry, wait!" The voice cut across the painful cries of death echoing in the air around him. He closed his eyes and took a breath. Not now. Please not now. But her hand was there on his face, touching him and pushing his hair back. "Harry, let me come with you."
"You can't, Ginny," he swallowed and opened his eyes to look down at her. There was a smudge of soot on her face and he could see that she was bleeding from a cut across her arm. "I don't want you hurt and I have to do this on my own. Go back to your family and wait for me there."
"Damn it, Harry. I love you. Don't shut me out now. I want to help!" she cried. He stared down into her eyes and smiled. She was so beautiful.
"And I love you, Ginny. That's why I don't want you to come with me. I don't want anything to happen to you."
"I'll be fine, Harry. Just let me come with."
"Don't ask me that, Ginny. I can't lose you. Not after everyone else. Please. Just wait for me here."
"But Harry..."
"No, Ginny. Wait for me. I promise I'll be back. As soon as he's dead. I love you and we're going to get married. Just promise me you'll wait and stay safe."
She stared up at him a moment, then nodded her head. "Alright, Harry. I'll wait. I'll wait forever."
The Anita Blake Fandom:
Amazing Grace: Jean-Claude and Asher
On My Way Home: Anita and Jean-Claude
Say Hell 2 Heaven: Asher, Anita and Jean-Claude
Darkness: Anita and EdwardLike You: Micah, Anita and Richard
The Harry Potter Fandom:
Spiriti: Harry
Look to Your Orb for the Warning: Draco and Harry
The Wretched: Lucius and Narcissa
Releasing the Demons: Severus and Lily
Feed my Hungry Soul: Harry and Ginny
wanna catch up on all my stuff? check this link out. its got everything! The Ultimate ldf Fic Index
for those not in the know, here are the rules to this little writing game:
1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn on your mp3 player and put it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a mini fic about each song that you play. You start when the song starts, and stop when it has played twice. No lingering afterwards! You can finish a sentence, but that's it!
4. Do ten of these, and then post them.
here are my offerings...
Amazing Grace by the Rogues time - 3:43
His beauty is like none I have ever seen and shall likely never encounter again in all my long lived days. There is no one who shines so brightly as he does, no one who makes me wish that things could have been different. That I could have been different. And it sorrows me to know that he doesn't believe my feelings for him are true, that nothing has changed.
I watch him as he stares at the portrait, his eyes holding long lost memories too painful to recall. I wish I could comfort him, wish that I could offer him some sense of peace. But there is nothing I can do. After all, it is through my actions that we have been brought to this place and time. Still, I would have him with me as he is than to spend the rest of my life without him at him side.
I love him. Whether he chooses to believe that or not, I cannot say. It is the truth and, as they say, the truth is sometimes a more bitter pill to swallow than a lie. I cannot tell him enough how much I love him, how deeply my feelings run for him. And I cannot bear to think upon my failures to him. If I had the power, I would reach back through time to change what those things that hurt him the most.
He turns and catches me staring. For a moment, I wonder if he will retreat into his anger. If he will wield it against me like a blade, use it to cleave my heart in two. I would die for him, would give my life and the very blood in my veins for him. I would do anything required to make things right between us once again. I dislike seeing him so sad, seeing him brood his days away as if there is nothing left to live for. As if I am not enough.
A smile draws his lips up and he shifts closer to me on the couch. He is my light and I am drawn to him as a moth to a flame. Is it any wonder I love him? Any wonder that I would be lost without him?
"What are you thinking, Jean-Claude?" he asks me, his voice soft and low. He sounds as if he is afraid of my answer.
"Je t'aime, Asher."
On My Way Home by Enya time - 3:38
The lights in the distance were bright against the darkened sky. It felt like ages since I'd seen them this way, even though it had only been a week or two. Time had lost its meaning after the slaughter I'd been forced to witness. I put more of my foot on the gas pedal and the car leapt forward, as eager as I was for my home.
Home. What a funny word.
I pondered going to the Circus or going to my house. I wasn't sure where I most wanted to be right now. With the living or the dead? I thought of my bed and the two men who shared it with me. Thought of the big bathtub that awaited me in my own bathroom. But then blue eyes flashed across my vision and the choice was made. I flipped the blinker and turned a corner, heading for the Circus. I needed the silent comfort that Jean-Claude could offer me
He was waiting for me outside the back door when I pulled up. There was little light here, as only employees used this entrance. Since it couldn't be opened from the outside and the only employees here were either lycanthropes or the undead, there was no need for much light. I smiled to see him, the dark blue silk of his shirt hugging his form as the wind teased it, tugged at his hair. Damn, I'd missed him.
He said nothing when I finally stood before him. There was no need. I could see what he wanted to say in his eyes, on his face. He'd missed me and was happy to see me. He didn't know how badly I needed that silent reassurance. Then I was in his arms and he was kissing me, the depth of his emotions in that one gesture and I knew I'd made the right choice.
Tonight, I needed the comfort of his embrace, the silent presence of his strength. He wouldn't ask questions and I could sleep, knowing I was safe.
And loved.
Say Hello 2 Heaven by Temple of the Dog time - 6:24
Holding her in my arms is a joy I never thought would be mine. For far too long, I'd felt alone and unwanted. Cursed by the scars that ravage my flesh. And yet, she loves me as I am and is not repulsed by my looks. She sees me as a man. Not some freak. How could she love me so? How could she not notice that I am flawed and imperfect. I am not the beauty that Jean-Claude is. I am imperfect and unworthy of her affections.
Her skin glows with the dew of sweat, her hair clinging to her face. The rosy blush that stains her cheeks is an affirmation of her devotion to us both. She lays caught between us, Jean-Claude spooning her body while her arms are twined around me. Her head rests on my shoulder. Sweet, delicate perfection. An angel with night wing hair. A tiny goddess of death and desire. As always, I am awed that she has chosen to share herself with me
I watch as a sleepy smile slides across her face and brightens the look in her eyes. My hand lifts, strokes across her cheek and into her hair. When she turns her gaze up to me, I see the love shining from them. Something in my chest tightens at it. Will the wonder and awe never cease? Will I ever be able to accept her feelings without questions and concerns? Will I never know the simple pleasure of a woman's love without distrusting it?
"Stop that," she whispers to me, reaching up to slide her fingers across the ruined flesh on my face. "You know I wouldn't be here if I didn't love you, Asher. Stop punishing yourself for my feelings."
"I am sorry, cherie," I reply. And I am. I do not mean to doubt her love for me. I simply cannot help it. Centuries of scars and being shunned after having once been so beautiful have worn deep into my mind.
"Ma petite is correct, Asher. There is no need to question her feelings for you. They are as genuine as my own. We both love you," Jean-Claude tells me, looking at me over the dark curls of Anita's hair. I nod. I cannot speak for the lump in my throat.
"Forgive my melancholy. I do not mean to bring it into our bed."
"There's nothing to forgive, Asher," Anita shifts. She draws herself up until her face is level with mine. And then her lips touch my own, a small and gentle touch meant to soothe and reassure. It does, inflames my desire for her further. As if she knows my thoughts, she climbs up on top of me and straddles my hips. "I think its time to show you how much we both love you."
And they do.
Darkness by Rage Against the Machine time - 3:41
There were bodies strewn and scattered across the floor like a child's dolls thrown about in a tantrum. Blood pooled under them, soaking their clothes and leaving that distinctive metallic tang in the air. It mingled badly with the scent of fear and the odor of bowels. Death. This wasn't a vampire's doing. This kind of brutality belonged to something that had no care for life and only lived for killing. Destruction and chaos.
My gaze flicked to him, so calm and unmoved by the carnage. He generally never was unless someone had pissed him off. I hadn't seen him pissed since New Mexico. I didn't think I ever wanted to see that Edward ever again.
He was studying the scene, the gun in his hand pointed at the floor in a lazy, relaxed pose. His cold gaze flicked about the room as he catalogued every drop of blood, even gaping wound and every single victim. Every death.
"What did this? I've never seen anything like this." he asked, nothing in his voice to give away his feelings. Or if he was even feeling anything.
"I don't know. I've never seen anything like it, either," I shook my head. My palm was sweaty on the butt of my Browning. I was still on alert, still searching with my other senses to be sure that we were alone. I didn't want whatever had done this to sneak up on us when we weren't looking.
A whimper caught my ears, the sound so small in the silence of the house that it sounded loud and unending. Edward's head tilted, then he was stalking from the room, his trench coat swirling around his ankles. I followed behind him, ready to shoot anything that came our way. Something about this made me nervous. I didn't like it at all.
It was in the next room, all wrong angles and darkened shadows. It was stalking a child, a scared little boy with wide eyes who was whimpering like a beat dog. I lifted the Browning, ready to fire, but it was already too late.
Death had come for it.
Like You by Evanescence time - 4:17
She was so mad, she was shaking. I'd already drawn her into my arms in an attempt to try and calm her down. But she was past that point. She was as close to irrational as she ever got. Not that I blamed her. Richard always seemed to have that effect on her. This time was no different than any others.
"Get out," she snarled at him and I could feel her beast shifting beneath her skin. If she'd been a true lycanthrope like Richard or myself, she'd have already lost control and shifted. As it was, she was caught on the verge. I knew it was painful for her there. I knew she was in agony and that only made it worse for her. "Get out before I shoot you!"
"You won't shoot me, Anita. You can't," Richard sounded so sure of himself. So smug. Did he really think she wouldn't pull the trigger? It didn't matter what she felt for him. She'd do it if she said she would. Anita never backed down and never broke her word.
"Fucking get out!" She was trying to fight me, trying to break my hold on her so that she could go for her gun. I tightened my hold without hurting her, keeping her caught up in the circle of my arms.
"Anita, let it go. He isn't worth it," I told her softly.
"Listen to your pet kitty, Anita," Richard mocked. I didn't dignify his childish comment with a reaction. It confused the Ulfric. His words only angered her further and I wondered if she'd hurt herself.
"I think it would be best if you go, Richard. She's struggling with her control. You're testing it. Go. Now. Before I let her go."
The man stood there and blinked at me, as if he didn't think I would do it. And I was tempted. He was the biggest problem Anita had. And he always made her feel bad about herself. Always. Just because he didn't understand who she was. Or what she was. She was something more than simply a necromancer, more than simply Jean-Claude's human servant. Something more than his Lupa and my Nimir-Ra. She was just more. And he didn't understand.
The problem with letting her go was she'd shoot him. And then she'd regret it. She still loved him, no matter what happened between the two of them. It would kill her to hurt him. I wished that it was night. Damian could soothe her, ease her anger.
"Just go, Richard."
Spiriti by The Mediæval Bæbes time - 1:28
I wonder if everyone knows that I see the dead now. After the final battle, something in my magic changed. They walk with me, guide me. Help me. The first time it happened, I thought I was going mad. I mean, that was easy, wasn't it? To lose your mind. And I'd been through so much.
Now, though, it was second nature to consult them and find out what they thought about things. What they thought I should do with the more important aspects of my life. I'd even grown to enjoy it. Not that I could tell anyone about it. The first time I'd mentioned seeing ghosts, talking to them, to my friends, they'd given me that look that suggested that they would perhaps take me to St. Mungo's and have me committed.
Not that I blamed them.
There were times when I still thought I was completely mad. Maybe I was.
Look to Your Orb for the Warning by Monster Magnet time: 4:42
The prophecies shone dimply in the near darkness of the room. They weren't supposed to be here and they knew that. But they had to come see, come look at the places where it had started in earnest. They'd all heard the stories. But no one had believed that the Ministry could hold so many predictions.
Of course, I wasn't as vast as it once had been. Not since He Who Must Not Be Named had lured Harry Potter here to grasp hold of the prophecy that involved the two of them. Potter had foiled the attempt. But at what cost? He and Potter both had lost family that night. His father had been imprisoned and his uncle, a man he hadn't known, had been sent through the Veil. Draco hadn't really known Sirius, but he'd seen some hint of grief touch his mother at the loss.
He stared at the orbs, miles and miles of them, glowing softly on their shelves. "So this is where the first of the battles happened," he whispered softly.
"This is where one of the battles happened," Harry corrected him soflty, some memory painting his words with sorrow and longing. "The first battle for me was first year. Professor Quirrell tried to kill me. He had Voldemort inside of him."
"Did he?" Draco cast a curious look at the brunette standing beside him. Harry nodded. "Then I suppose its a bloody good thing you ended the miserable sod's life."
"Was it?" Harry asked, his voice soft. Draco turned a frown on him.
"Harry, we've been over this before. You did what was needed. Those deaths couldn't have been prevented. If you hadn't killed Quirrell, he would have taken your life."
"That doesn't make what I've done right," Harry insisted.
"Listen to me, you bloody infuriating git. You did what was right. What you had to. If you hadn't, we wouldn't be here now. And, quite frankly, I love you too much to consider life without you. So stop bloody brooding and let's go shag."
"Sounds like a brilliant idea, Draco," Harry smiled. The blonde smirked and took his hand. Of course it was a brilliant idea. Git.
The Wretched by Nine Inch Nails time - 5:25
Azkaban was cold and dark, lifeless. The only thing that lived here was fear and the desire for death. Nightmares floated in the air and screams drove shafts of pain into his head. Why was he here? He could no longer remember what he'd done to deserve this punishment. He didn't know how long he'd been here. All he did know was he was hungry, cold and tired. So tired.
Once, he'd had a warm bed to sleep in, with a warm woman to curl up with. He'd had a home and a family, plenty of food to eat and more money than he'd been able to spend. Now, he was alone and he had nothing. Absolutely nothing.
A key grated in the lock and the door's hinges squealed as it opened. A figure stood in the doorway. "Get up, pig. Come along."
He did as he was told, gaining his feet through sheer stubborn will. His gait was shuffling as he crossed the room and stepped out into the hall. The guard laughed at him and shoved him forward. The two of them traversed the halls in silence, the guard poking him in the back to keep him moving or get him to switch directions. After a long, painful walk, he was brought into a bright room with furniture in it.
The warden was there, staring at him with contempt. And there was someone else there, a face of angelic perfection that saw his heart leaping in his breast. The warden shoved a handful of papers forward. "It would seem, Malfoy, that you've got the luck of the devil. I have release papers here for you. You get to go home."
His eyes sought hers, looking for confirmation from her. She nodded, her expressionless face set to hide what she thought and felt. Joy surged through him. But he held it back. He wouldn't show such feelings here to people who didn't deserve to see them.
"What do I need to do?" he asked.
"Sign here and you're free to go," the warden handed him a quill and a pot of ink. He took the feather in a shaking hand and carefully dipped the nib, carefully scrawled his name where the warden indicated. The door opened and another guard brought him his belongings. They were in a small trunk. He took it gratefully, pleased to finally be leaving. When it was done, the warden smirked up at him. "Do try to come back and visit, Malfoy. We'd love to have you."
"I shall keep that in mind." He took his half of the paperwork, then turned to leave the room. He felt her fall into place behind him. It wasn't until they were outside that he spoke. "I've missed you, Cissa."
"And I you, Lucius. Let's go home."
Home. It sounded wonderful to him.
Releasing the Demons by Godsmack time - 4:12
The nightmare woke me again, dragging me from a night of blissful sleep. I struggled with the blankets and tumbled from my bed. The dreams were getting worse, making a full night's rest impossible to achieve. I fumbled in the dark for my wand, fingers curling around the wooden rod and flicking it dismissively. The candles flickered to life, showing me the starkness of my rooms.
I sought out my favorite method of dealing with the damned dreams, a bottle of Ogden's Old. Pouring myself a generous helping, I settled into a chair and stared at the empty hearth. But I saw in my head another fireplace, filled with the brilliant glow of a merry fire. The flames cast a lovely glow on her pale skin and I felt myself falling into memory.
Her eyes shone in the light from my fire, her lips curved up in a smile of pure joy. I had been younger then, less knowledgeable of the evils of the world. Full of myself and of a hope that I might be given the one thing I'd desired more than anything else in the world. Her.
She was my one true love, the one reason I existed.
Her laughter tinkled in my mind, a sweet and innocent sound that sent waves of heat through my body. Even after so long, I was susceptible to her ample charms and sweet beauty. Even now, I still wanted her as fervently as I had then. And, even now, I could still feel the tumble of emotions that single smile, that lovely laugh, had sent dancing through me.
I'd wanted to ask her then, wanted to proclaim my love for her. I'd wanted to make her mine in every sense of the word. I'd have married her, if she'd said yes. If I'd ever had the courage to ask. If I'd known that she cared. But I'd never asked, I'd never dared. I'd been sure that she'd turn me down. But I'd come close that night, watching her in the light of the fire. Watching the smile swim across her face. Watching her stare at me as if I were truly a man she could be happy with.
Time hadn't been generous to me. I could still recall that evening with painful clarity. I could still hear her melodious laugh. I could still smell the pleasant floral scent that clung to her. And I could still feel the pain of her rejection later, the way my heart had been torn from my chest when she'd moved on and married another.
"I'm sorry, Severus. I love him. I want to marry him. He'll make me happy," she'd whispered.
I shoved it all aside. The one thing I'd wanted that I'd lost. "I love you, too, Lily," I whispered into the shadows.
Feed My Hungry Soul by Lords of Acid time - 4:19
Death surrounded them like a curtain, the smell of it heavy in the air. The screams of the dying rang out, reminding him that the battle still raged. Reminding him that he still had a job to do. Harry stood and moved determinedly through the shadows. He'd been hit with something that had sent him sprawling, had knocked the breath from him. Now it was time to finish this. To end what had been started all those years ago.
Gods above, he was tired. Tired of death and fighting. Tired of trying to find a way to end it all. He only wanted it done, wanted this over with so he could curl up in some darkened corner and lick all of the wounds. How many more had to die before he could end it? How long before he felt like a person again? When would he stop feeling like some... thing meant only to kill and destroy? When would he be himself again?
Images rose in his mind. His mother and father. Cedric. Sirius. Dumbledore. Pain struck through him and drove him on. Voldemort had to be stopped. No matter the cost. And he'd stop him. Even if it meant his death.
"Harry, wait!" The voice cut across the painful cries of death echoing in the air around him. He closed his eyes and took a breath. Not now. Please not now. But her hand was there on his face, touching him and pushing his hair back. "Harry, let me come with you."
"You can't, Ginny," he swallowed and opened his eyes to look down at her. There was a smudge of soot on her face and he could see that she was bleeding from a cut across her arm. "I don't want you hurt and I have to do this on my own. Go back to your family and wait for me there."
"Damn it, Harry. I love you. Don't shut me out now. I want to help!" she cried. He stared down into her eyes and smiled. She was so beautiful.
"And I love you, Ginny. That's why I don't want you to come with me. I don't want anything to happen to you."
"I'll be fine, Harry. Just let me come with."
"Don't ask me that, Ginny. I can't lose you. Not after everyone else. Please. Just wait for me here."
"But Harry..."
"No, Ginny. Wait for me. I promise I'll be back. As soon as he's dead. I love you and we're going to get married. Just promise me you'll wait and stay safe."
She stared up at him a moment, then nodded her head. "Alright, Harry. I'll wait. I'll wait forever."
The Anita Blake Fandom:
Amazing Grace: Jean-Claude and Asher
On My Way Home: Anita and Jean-Claude
Say Hell 2 Heaven: Asher, Anita and Jean-Claude
Darkness: Anita and EdwardLike You: Micah, Anita and Richard
The Harry Potter Fandom:
Spiriti: Harry
Look to Your Orb for the Warning: Draco and Harry
The Wretched: Lucius and Narcissa
Releasing the Demons: Severus and Lily
Feed my Hungry Soul: Harry and Ginny
wanna catch up on all my stuff? check this link out. its got everything! The Ultimate ldf Fic Index