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snape_ldws
Round 1, Challenge 1 Voting!
Wow, how great is this! Our first voting round! Normally, the lovely delayed_poet will be posting the polls, but today I've been having major issues with life and decided to post it right now. Sorry, DP! At least I have your lovely banner at the bottom!
<3
So, this is how it works: read all the submissions below, and vote for your Most Favorite and your Least Favorite. Each Most Favorite will be +1. Each Lease Favorite will be -1. The participant with the highest score will win the round, and the two participants with the lowest scores will unfortunately be dropped.
And here we go!
1 -
Title: For You
Author: sc010f
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Character Death; one bad word
Word Count: 200
It was barely a twitch, but Snape saw it coming nonetheless.
There was nothing he could do.
Searing pain. He stood for a moment like a statue and fell.
"I regret it."
With a rustle, Voldemort and Nagini were gone and he was alone.
Albus, was this what you wanted?
Oh, God, Lily I did this for you.
Recalling her vibrant hair and quicksilver smile sent a shock through him. And then he remembered: even Lily had abandoned him. Scrabbling on the floor he remembered:
I don't need you, mudblood.
No, not these memories - I don't need these - to die remembering her.
Noises from afar, scrabbling growing closer.
A gasp. The familiar cries of Granger and Potter.
Silver memory poured from him, clinging to him like the clotting blood.
"Take it, take it." Perhaps Potter would appreciate what he was being given - spoon-fed, as usual.
Granger handed the boy a vial.
"Take it, take it."
Potter stared everywhere but at him. Idiot boy! How dare he! How dare he not appreciate the work, the sacrifice all for him.
Rage surged through him.
Would the boy never learn?
Anger gave him strength. Teach that fucking brat, show him…
"Look. At. Me."
2 -
Title: The Pensieve Matter
Author: roseofthewest
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Word Count: 330
It wasn't as though the boy was ever going to gain any control over his mind. Indeed, that mind was a veritable gift basket of psychoses and fears that any bully-or manipulative old man-could easily put to good use. Indeed, it led one to wonder which of the boy's parents was likewise so facile of mind. Potter might have been less of a bully if Snape could have had access to his thoughts, while Lily... No, he never would have tried to look through her mind.
It didn't help the current situation any. The fruit of his folly-that flash of pure anger that caused a jar to explode in uncontrolled magic-was clear. The boy would be easy fodder for the Dark Lord's superior mind, and the chance to see if the boy had any memories of her was gone. How he had ached at the thought that he might bring those memories forth, just to see her again. He had made some progress in that direction. Yet the boy had managed to push Snape out as he had approached earlier childhood, hadn't he?
When he was next in Potions class after that moment of trespass and anger, Potter looked at him in fear and... what was that emotion? He looked and watched. It almost seemed like shame. It made Potter seem almost... approachable. What sort of things might they discuss if Snape could lay down a lifetime of bitterness and hurt, of overwhelming resentment and anger?
With some sort of apology, Snape could make the first move, could break the ice, could create an environment where the two could work even if they never approached a pleasant relationship. What would happen if they worked together? What if Snape lowered the pride that was all he had left after the moment of wrath that burned so brightly, fed by the pain and suffering he had experienced that day by the lake and a thousand days like it?
He would never know.
3 -
Title: Turn To Stone
Author: lmeden
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
Word Count: 350
He cannot escape the dreams. Not even under Dreamless Sleep, which serves only to chain him and smother him. He has stopped taking it years past.
Every night, he dreams the same thing.
...her hands, with fingers long and gnarled like birch branches, emerging from the smoky darkness. Her eyes, turned so dark, glittering from beyond the veil. He flinches back...
When he awakes, he will inevitably be covered in sweat and gasping for breath. Thus, over the years he has established a pattern of waking far before the dawn, giving him time to shower and wash the stink of fear and shame from his skin.
...but she is behind him as well, and he can see her smile, which has become more of a snarl than a human expression. Her teeth have grown sharp in death, and her mouth widens, stretching clear across her face and nearly to her ears as she reaches for him, ready to devour him...
By the time he walks down to breakfast, Severus is physically clean, and nearly refreshed. He reached for croissants and coffee automatically, swallowing only because of need, not hunger.
...and finally he sees her eyes, still glowing a pure and stunning green. But he no longer sees them as the green of fresh life - these eyes glow with the green of inescapable death. Her hair is no longer passionately fiery, but strands of deadly blood. It whips around her and glints, reaching out for him, twining around her thin wrists and grasping hands...
And then, as he arrives in his classroom and checks over the ingredients before class, his hands shake. He hides them inside his robes, and cultivates movements that cause his robes to billow and hide his weakness.
In his dreams, she never speaks. She merely reaches out for him, turning his past love for her into abject terror. But he knows what she is trying to say - in a desperate, wrathful shriek.
Why did you tell him? Why couldn't you keep what you heard a secret?
How could you love the Dark Lord more than me?
4 -
Title: Onomatopoeia of Wrath
Author: starduchess
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: violence
Word Count: 129
BANG! came the sound from the living room as picture frames fell from the wall.
What could he have done differently?!
CRASH! splintered the wooden chairs as he hurled them violently one into the other.
Why couldn't he have said something to stop this madness?!
SMASH! shattered the glass of dozens of liquor bottles as he raked them out of the cupboard.
Who was he to tell his father not to drink?!
THUNK! went the thicker-than-normal rum bottle as it ricocheted off the countertop and knocked him in the head.
How could he let his father hurt his mother?!
THUD! landed Severus on the floor while clutching his bleeding scalp and reeling from the pain.
When was he going to accept that he had no control over his parents?
5 -
Title: Origins
Author: lariopefic
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Word Count: 398
Snape has waited ten years for this day.
As his eyes scan the incoming first years for a lithe, freckled, ginger-haired boy, he thinks of what is owed, of the promises he’s made to Dumbledore, to himself.
Today he will begin to make it right, he thinks, and it is impossible not to remember Lily as a child, so ignorant of magic, so eager. This boy of hers has been in seclusion all these years; he will know as little about their world as she had, and Snape will teach it all to him. He will see, again, Lily’s eyes raised to his in happy admiration, and perhaps, if he does his job well, if he places his own soul between the boy and the Dark Lord… perhaps, he too will begin to heal.
Snape’s heart stutters when his eyes land on a gangly ginger--but no, that is just another Weasley, making the customary stopover on the road to mediocrity. The Weasley stands half in shadow, tucked behind another boy, and Snape’s eyes dance over the companion’s face, barely registering the unruly black hair, the glasses. The lightning-shaped scar.
There is not enough time even to think the word no.
As Snape looks upon James Potter’s face--Lily obliterated, her legacy stolen--the last ten years crumble around him like a house with a rotten foundation. All that he has endured--the jeers of the students; the condescension of the staff; the numbing, ever-present fear that one of them will seek him out, punish him--has been for nothing. There is no solace, no redemption here, just seven more years to waste in trying to save another careless, arrogant, rule-breaking Potter from himself.
For a moment, Snape’s vision seems to double, and he is not certain whether he is seeing the father and the son, or the boy and who he will become, but whichever it is, he watches Potter’s eyes meet his own and widen before his chin lifts in defiance.
His palms burn with the urge to beat that look from Potter’s face--now while he is still stronger, while he still has the advantage--but he chokes it down, feeling its arid path through his body, crisping his skin, turning his blood sluggish and heavy.
Just another Gryffindor, Snape thinks, the words black and poisoned. Before long, I will have to die for that.
6 -
Title: A True Force of Wrath
Author: ladypsychic
Rating:pg-13
Warnings: mentionings of child abuse and violence
Word Count:180
Ever since he had been a young boy, Severus Snape had understood the concept of wrath. He felt it whenever his father thrashed him during an angry, drunkin rampage. He also occasionally felt it during his rivalry with James Potter and his lackeys. Yet, all of those experiences paled in comparison to being on the wrong end of the Dark Lord’s wand.
Severus was still reeling from the previous night’s meeting. The Dark Lord was in an especially foul mood and had decided to take out his anger and frustration on Severus. A Cruciatus curse would always be painful no matter who cast it, but one casted from the Dark Lord seemed to have a particular potency. Most would believe that it was the Dark Lord’s power that made his curses so painful; however, while that may be a factor, Severus felt it was because his master filled the curses with pure malice.
Whatever the case, one thing was for certain. The Dark Lord, He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named, was indeed a true force of wrath. Possibly one in which Severus would not survive.
7 -
Title: No Choice
Author: debjunk
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word Count: 367
His hands shook in rage. His breathing came in short gasps. He raced along the corridor while his eyes examined every nook and cranny, searching for a way out. He huffed to himself. He would find no escape... not here.
Out the door and onto the grounds; he almost ran, he moved so quickly. His hands were balled into fists as he stormed along, raging within. He made his way into the Forbidden forest, his head down the entire way. If anyone were to look at his face, they would see fury blazing in his eyes and a scowl marring his features.
He stopped in a small clearing, huffing loudly as he did. Eying the pink flowering Daphne that covered the clearing, he bent low and pulled several red berries from the plants. Standing once again, he eyed the poisonous globes as a sneer crossed his face.
“Just three of these innocent looking berries and all of your plans will be for naught. Who will be your mercy-killer then, Dumbledore?” he snarled.
Picking one berry up, he brought it close to his face and rolled it between his fingers. Suddenly he crushed it cruelly, an ugly grimace on his face.
“You think you can demand that I do this,” he raged. “But you cannot! I will end my life to avoid being your puppet!”
His wrath at the injustice of his situation flowed through him. In an instant he’d thrust the berries into his mouth and was about to bite down onto them. His mouth froze, his teeth mere millimeters from crushing the berries and ending his life. Coming to his senses, he spit the berries out and fell to his knees on the forest floor. His arms surrounded him as he fell into despair. Finally giving into his fury, He pulled every plant within his reach from the dirt and cast them as far as he could throw.
“I... will... not... do... this!”
He collapsed onto the ground, his face dragging along the dirt. His shoulders slumped in defeat. His whisper was the sound of the damned.
“But I have no choice...”
8 -
Title: Subtleties Lost
Author: valkyriekat
Rating: PG
Warnings: angst
Word Count: 190
Severus glared at the stone wall at the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. He was planning, calculating, strategizing. What could he do to pay James Potter for what he had done?
“Ties of blood,” Severus muttered at the wall, and the stone slid aside. He entered the green-hued room. He had to be nimble, tricky. James Potter seemed to be pressing himself on Lily when she was unwilling. Severus’ list of grudges grew ten times in a nanosecond, witnessing that violation.
Wrath. It ate at him. Hour by hour it increased until he was engulfed, and he sat in front of the fire, dreaming revenges, whispering the word “Crucio” under his breath, wishful thinking that would become reality if he didn’t learn to control, harness, focus that sheer loathing in some other way.
Next day Severus aimed a hex at Potter, then at Black, who were suddenly stiff and paralyzed. Not as satisfactory as Sectumsempra or Crucio, but Petrificus Totalus did the trick, and Severus snarled “You stay away from Evans, or you’ll see what wrath means!” in James’ immobile face, subtleties lost in the heat of mutual loathing.
9 -
Title: Circle
Author: mijeli
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Word Count: 100
~
Death, and such he would never have guessed, was not so much pain as it was fury. One's absence - mockery. It was no circle, not even close.
"And my soul," Severus said, his remark so shapeless, so lost in the open, that no response would reach. "Mine?"
The night's chill descended like a shroud. Approaching this, Severus had expected many tunes, yet not a wrath wanting to pull the whole world down with him, wanting to set one final fire to the grave and extinguish the stench.
He indulged in its force, just briefly. It would vanish with the day.
10 -
Title: Anger
Author: reynardo
Rating: PG
Warnings: Violence and implied sex
Word Count: 398 (yay Open Office)
1979
Golborne, near Wigan, March 18
The pain. The never-ending ceaseless PAIN and the screaming in his head and he has to let the anger out and he needs to HURT and he needs to BURN, and there's an old pit and he goes there and he SCREAMS and the fire and sparks fly and there's an explosion and sirens and he melts off into the bushes and is gone before the ambulances arrive.
Middletown, PA, March 28
He can't stop brooding about the unfairness of it all and how he's been used and manipulated by his parents and the teachers and those damned snotty maurauders and now by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and so he's hiding out in the grotty industrial area where he feels at home but he's so ANGRY and he hides in his tent on the island but the pressure's building and he SCREAMS and lashes out and there's heat and fire and bright blue light and alarms and he apparates before the decon team find him.
Far South Indian Ocean, September 22
He's been sent to check a little island but the waterproofing fails on his cape and his fires won't stay alight for long enough to heat up food and he loses it again and he screams and there's a flash and another and a boom and a blast of heat and he's away before they send the satellites and the searcher planes and they almost catch him this time.
Columbia, December 12
He's making his way back up to the rendevous in Mexico when he hears the news. That she's pregnant. Which means that she and ... Potter... have been... This time the rage completely takes over, and the anger veil descends and he can feel wave after wave of brilliant red energy surging from him up and down and deep into the earth and he feels as if his entire soul is churning, until he comes to his senses and realises the ground is still rolling and people are screaming and buildings are collapsing. And the ground finally settles and the silence and the dust fall like mist around him and he knows that he must never lose control again.
1994
The Staffroom, Hogwarts.
"So Professor Snape, tell me your secret. You've taught some of the most clueless, uninspiring students I have ever seen. How is it that you never lose your temper?"
11 -
Title: Rage
Author: rosewoods_muse
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence
Word Count: 210
The man stumbled fearfully through the underbrush surrounding the vacant industrial warehouse clutching his fractured arm close to his body. Out of breath, he dropped to his knees.
He cringed as a long, dark shadow loomed menacingly above him.
“The Dark Lord shall hear of this,” Pettigrew whimpered.
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
In a desperate bid, he turned to flee only to be shoved hard in the shoulder and slammed face first into the ground. The dark man delivered a swift kick to Pettigrew’s crotch and he cried out in pain. As he fell he was pummeled with several deft blows to his ribcage. Now half curled on his stomach, he made a feeble attempt to crawl away. A crimson stream of blood flowed from his broken nose down to his chin and pooled under his face into the ground.
This wasn’t the stylized, surreal violence that surrounded most dark revels. There wasn’t anything remotely dreamlike about it. It had the gritty, unmistakable feel of cold, harsh reality. The glint of a steel blade shone briefly in the moonlight before it was plunged deep within the side of the prostrate man. This was death.
As his anger slowly dissipated, he whispered a single word into the silent night.
“Lily.”
12 -
Title: Poema Arcanus
Author: laiksmarei
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angst
Word Count: 155
Cleansing fury, the burning righteousness fills his soul, stretching into a thin membrane that blankets the armour of his sub-conscious, preparing him for the fearless fight. Waves of anger ripple through muscle and tendon, jaw clenched tight, halting the venomous whispers and secret desires that threaten to spill from his lips.
Hatred consumes his heart, sullen and slow, honeyed vengeance purifying him against the wanton, the wicked, the tyrant just beyond the door. Love can no longer save him from selfish virtue for indignation is the more better, baser part.
Glittering eyes close. A sigh escapes him, deep and resigned as memories twisted yet treasured are locked behind wall after wall of silence. Shoulders squared, white noise and scrabbling buzz in his ears as the soldiering wizard steadies himself in the ultimate sacrifice for the Light.
Poll Challenge 1 Voting
http://community.livejournal.com/snape_ldws/2931.html">
http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/Delayed_Poet/Snape%20ldws/wrathvote.jpg">
<3
So, this is how it works: read all the submissions below, and vote for your Most Favorite and your Least Favorite. Each Most Favorite will be +1. Each Lease Favorite will be -1. The participant with the highest score will win the round, and the two participants with the lowest scores will unfortunately be dropped.
And here we go!
1 -
Title: For You
Author: sc010f
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Character Death; one bad word
Word Count: 200
It was barely a twitch, but Snape saw it coming nonetheless.
There was nothing he could do.
Searing pain. He stood for a moment like a statue and fell.
"I regret it."
With a rustle, Voldemort and Nagini were gone and he was alone.
Albus, was this what you wanted?
Oh, God, Lily I did this for you.
Recalling her vibrant hair and quicksilver smile sent a shock through him. And then he remembered: even Lily had abandoned him. Scrabbling on the floor he remembered:
I don't need you, mudblood.
No, not these memories - I don't need these - to die remembering her.
Noises from afar, scrabbling growing closer.
A gasp. The familiar cries of Granger and Potter.
Silver memory poured from him, clinging to him like the clotting blood.
"Take it, take it." Perhaps Potter would appreciate what he was being given - spoon-fed, as usual.
Granger handed the boy a vial.
"Take it, take it."
Potter stared everywhere but at him. Idiot boy! How dare he! How dare he not appreciate the work, the sacrifice all for him.
Rage surged through him.
Would the boy never learn?
Anger gave him strength. Teach that fucking brat, show him…
"Look. At. Me."
2 -
Title: The Pensieve Matter
Author: roseofthewest
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Word Count: 330
It wasn't as though the boy was ever going to gain any control over his mind. Indeed, that mind was a veritable gift basket of psychoses and fears that any bully-or manipulative old man-could easily put to good use. Indeed, it led one to wonder which of the boy's parents was likewise so facile of mind. Potter might have been less of a bully if Snape could have had access to his thoughts, while Lily... No, he never would have tried to look through her mind.
It didn't help the current situation any. The fruit of his folly-that flash of pure anger that caused a jar to explode in uncontrolled magic-was clear. The boy would be easy fodder for the Dark Lord's superior mind, and the chance to see if the boy had any memories of her was gone. How he had ached at the thought that he might bring those memories forth, just to see her again. He had made some progress in that direction. Yet the boy had managed to push Snape out as he had approached earlier childhood, hadn't he?
When he was next in Potions class after that moment of trespass and anger, Potter looked at him in fear and... what was that emotion? He looked and watched. It almost seemed like shame. It made Potter seem almost... approachable. What sort of things might they discuss if Snape could lay down a lifetime of bitterness and hurt, of overwhelming resentment and anger?
With some sort of apology, Snape could make the first move, could break the ice, could create an environment where the two could work even if they never approached a pleasant relationship. What would happen if they worked together? What if Snape lowered the pride that was all he had left after the moment of wrath that burned so brightly, fed by the pain and suffering he had experienced that day by the lake and a thousand days like it?
He would never know.
3 -
Title: Turn To Stone
Author: lmeden
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
Word Count: 350
He cannot escape the dreams. Not even under Dreamless Sleep, which serves only to chain him and smother him. He has stopped taking it years past.
Every night, he dreams the same thing.
...her hands, with fingers long and gnarled like birch branches, emerging from the smoky darkness. Her eyes, turned so dark, glittering from beyond the veil. He flinches back...
When he awakes, he will inevitably be covered in sweat and gasping for breath. Thus, over the years he has established a pattern of waking far before the dawn, giving him time to shower and wash the stink of fear and shame from his skin.
...but she is behind him as well, and he can see her smile, which has become more of a snarl than a human expression. Her teeth have grown sharp in death, and her mouth widens, stretching clear across her face and nearly to her ears as she reaches for him, ready to devour him...
By the time he walks down to breakfast, Severus is physically clean, and nearly refreshed. He reached for croissants and coffee automatically, swallowing only because of need, not hunger.
...and finally he sees her eyes, still glowing a pure and stunning green. But he no longer sees them as the green of fresh life - these eyes glow with the green of inescapable death. Her hair is no longer passionately fiery, but strands of deadly blood. It whips around her and glints, reaching out for him, twining around her thin wrists and grasping hands...
And then, as he arrives in his classroom and checks over the ingredients before class, his hands shake. He hides them inside his robes, and cultivates movements that cause his robes to billow and hide his weakness.
In his dreams, she never speaks. She merely reaches out for him, turning his past love for her into abject terror. But he knows what she is trying to say - in a desperate, wrathful shriek.
Why did you tell him? Why couldn't you keep what you heard a secret?
How could you love the Dark Lord more than me?
4 -
Title: Onomatopoeia of Wrath
Author: starduchess
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: violence
Word Count: 129
BANG! came the sound from the living room as picture frames fell from the wall.
What could he have done differently?!
CRASH! splintered the wooden chairs as he hurled them violently one into the other.
Why couldn't he have said something to stop this madness?!
SMASH! shattered the glass of dozens of liquor bottles as he raked them out of the cupboard.
Who was he to tell his father not to drink?!
THUNK! went the thicker-than-normal rum bottle as it ricocheted off the countertop and knocked him in the head.
How could he let his father hurt his mother?!
THUD! landed Severus on the floor while clutching his bleeding scalp and reeling from the pain.
When was he going to accept that he had no control over his parents?
5 -
Title: Origins
Author: lariopefic
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Word Count: 398
Snape has waited ten years for this day.
As his eyes scan the incoming first years for a lithe, freckled, ginger-haired boy, he thinks of what is owed, of the promises he’s made to Dumbledore, to himself.
Today he will begin to make it right, he thinks, and it is impossible not to remember Lily as a child, so ignorant of magic, so eager. This boy of hers has been in seclusion all these years; he will know as little about their world as she had, and Snape will teach it all to him. He will see, again, Lily’s eyes raised to his in happy admiration, and perhaps, if he does his job well, if he places his own soul between the boy and the Dark Lord… perhaps, he too will begin to heal.
Snape’s heart stutters when his eyes land on a gangly ginger--but no, that is just another Weasley, making the customary stopover on the road to mediocrity. The Weasley stands half in shadow, tucked behind another boy, and Snape’s eyes dance over the companion’s face, barely registering the unruly black hair, the glasses. The lightning-shaped scar.
There is not enough time even to think the word no.
As Snape looks upon James Potter’s face--Lily obliterated, her legacy stolen--the last ten years crumble around him like a house with a rotten foundation. All that he has endured--the jeers of the students; the condescension of the staff; the numbing, ever-present fear that one of them will seek him out, punish him--has been for nothing. There is no solace, no redemption here, just seven more years to waste in trying to save another careless, arrogant, rule-breaking Potter from himself.
For a moment, Snape’s vision seems to double, and he is not certain whether he is seeing the father and the son, or the boy and who he will become, but whichever it is, he watches Potter’s eyes meet his own and widen before his chin lifts in defiance.
His palms burn with the urge to beat that look from Potter’s face--now while he is still stronger, while he still has the advantage--but he chokes it down, feeling its arid path through his body, crisping his skin, turning his blood sluggish and heavy.
Just another Gryffindor, Snape thinks, the words black and poisoned. Before long, I will have to die for that.
6 -
Title: A True Force of Wrath
Author: ladypsychic
Rating:pg-13
Warnings: mentionings of child abuse and violence
Word Count:180
Ever since he had been a young boy, Severus Snape had understood the concept of wrath. He felt it whenever his father thrashed him during an angry, drunkin rampage. He also occasionally felt it during his rivalry with James Potter and his lackeys. Yet, all of those experiences paled in comparison to being on the wrong end of the Dark Lord’s wand.
Severus was still reeling from the previous night’s meeting. The Dark Lord was in an especially foul mood and had decided to take out his anger and frustration on Severus. A Cruciatus curse would always be painful no matter who cast it, but one casted from the Dark Lord seemed to have a particular potency. Most would believe that it was the Dark Lord’s power that made his curses so painful; however, while that may be a factor, Severus felt it was because his master filled the curses with pure malice.
Whatever the case, one thing was for certain. The Dark Lord, He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named, was indeed a true force of wrath. Possibly one in which Severus would not survive.
7 -
Title: No Choice
Author: debjunk
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word Count: 367
His hands shook in rage. His breathing came in short gasps. He raced along the corridor while his eyes examined every nook and cranny, searching for a way out. He huffed to himself. He would find no escape... not here.
Out the door and onto the grounds; he almost ran, he moved so quickly. His hands were balled into fists as he stormed along, raging within. He made his way into the Forbidden forest, his head down the entire way. If anyone were to look at his face, they would see fury blazing in his eyes and a scowl marring his features.
He stopped in a small clearing, huffing loudly as he did. Eying the pink flowering Daphne that covered the clearing, he bent low and pulled several red berries from the plants. Standing once again, he eyed the poisonous globes as a sneer crossed his face.
“Just three of these innocent looking berries and all of your plans will be for naught. Who will be your mercy-killer then, Dumbledore?” he snarled.
Picking one berry up, he brought it close to his face and rolled it between his fingers. Suddenly he crushed it cruelly, an ugly grimace on his face.
“You think you can demand that I do this,” he raged. “But you cannot! I will end my life to avoid being your puppet!”
His wrath at the injustice of his situation flowed through him. In an instant he’d thrust the berries into his mouth and was about to bite down onto them. His mouth froze, his teeth mere millimeters from crushing the berries and ending his life. Coming to his senses, he spit the berries out and fell to his knees on the forest floor. His arms surrounded him as he fell into despair. Finally giving into his fury, He pulled every plant within his reach from the dirt and cast them as far as he could throw.
“I... will... not... do... this!”
He collapsed onto the ground, his face dragging along the dirt. His shoulders slumped in defeat. His whisper was the sound of the damned.
“But I have no choice...”
8 -
Title: Subtleties Lost
Author: valkyriekat
Rating: PG
Warnings: angst
Word Count: 190
Severus glared at the stone wall at the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. He was planning, calculating, strategizing. What could he do to pay James Potter for what he had done?
“Ties of blood,” Severus muttered at the wall, and the stone slid aside. He entered the green-hued room. He had to be nimble, tricky. James Potter seemed to be pressing himself on Lily when she was unwilling. Severus’ list of grudges grew ten times in a nanosecond, witnessing that violation.
Wrath. It ate at him. Hour by hour it increased until he was engulfed, and he sat in front of the fire, dreaming revenges, whispering the word “Crucio” under his breath, wishful thinking that would become reality if he didn’t learn to control, harness, focus that sheer loathing in some other way.
Next day Severus aimed a hex at Potter, then at Black, who were suddenly stiff and paralyzed. Not as satisfactory as Sectumsempra or Crucio, but Petrificus Totalus did the trick, and Severus snarled “You stay away from Evans, or you’ll see what wrath means!” in James’ immobile face, subtleties lost in the heat of mutual loathing.
9 -
Title: Circle
Author: mijeli
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Word Count: 100
~
Death, and such he would never have guessed, was not so much pain as it was fury. One's absence - mockery. It was no circle, not even close.
"And my soul," Severus said, his remark so shapeless, so lost in the open, that no response would reach. "Mine?"
The night's chill descended like a shroud. Approaching this, Severus had expected many tunes, yet not a wrath wanting to pull the whole world down with him, wanting to set one final fire to the grave and extinguish the stench.
He indulged in its force, just briefly. It would vanish with the day.
10 -
Title: Anger
Author: reynardo
Rating: PG
Warnings: Violence and implied sex
Word Count: 398 (yay Open Office)
1979
Golborne, near Wigan, March 18
The pain. The never-ending ceaseless PAIN and the screaming in his head and he has to let the anger out and he needs to HURT and he needs to BURN, and there's an old pit and he goes there and he SCREAMS and the fire and sparks fly and there's an explosion and sirens and he melts off into the bushes and is gone before the ambulances arrive.
Middletown, PA, March 28
He can't stop brooding about the unfairness of it all and how he's been used and manipulated by his parents and the teachers and those damned snotty maurauders and now by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and so he's hiding out in the grotty industrial area where he feels at home but he's so ANGRY and he hides in his tent on the island but the pressure's building and he SCREAMS and lashes out and there's heat and fire and bright blue light and alarms and he apparates before the decon team find him.
Far South Indian Ocean, September 22
He's been sent to check a little island but the waterproofing fails on his cape and his fires won't stay alight for long enough to heat up food and he loses it again and he screams and there's a flash and another and a boom and a blast of heat and he's away before they send the satellites and the searcher planes and they almost catch him this time.
Columbia, December 12
He's making his way back up to the rendevous in Mexico when he hears the news. That she's pregnant. Which means that she and ... Potter... have been... This time the rage completely takes over, and the anger veil descends and he can feel wave after wave of brilliant red energy surging from him up and down and deep into the earth and he feels as if his entire soul is churning, until he comes to his senses and realises the ground is still rolling and people are screaming and buildings are collapsing. And the ground finally settles and the silence and the dust fall like mist around him and he knows that he must never lose control again.
1994
The Staffroom, Hogwarts.
"So Professor Snape, tell me your secret. You've taught some of the most clueless, uninspiring students I have ever seen. How is it that you never lose your temper?"
11 -
Title: Rage
Author: rosewoods_muse
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence
Word Count: 210
The man stumbled fearfully through the underbrush surrounding the vacant industrial warehouse clutching his fractured arm close to his body. Out of breath, he dropped to his knees.
He cringed as a long, dark shadow loomed menacingly above him.
“The Dark Lord shall hear of this,” Pettigrew whimpered.
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
In a desperate bid, he turned to flee only to be shoved hard in the shoulder and slammed face first into the ground. The dark man delivered a swift kick to Pettigrew’s crotch and he cried out in pain. As he fell he was pummeled with several deft blows to his ribcage. Now half curled on his stomach, he made a feeble attempt to crawl away. A crimson stream of blood flowed from his broken nose down to his chin and pooled under his face into the ground.
This wasn’t the stylized, surreal violence that surrounded most dark revels. There wasn’t anything remotely dreamlike about it. It had the gritty, unmistakable feel of cold, harsh reality. The glint of a steel blade shone briefly in the moonlight before it was plunged deep within the side of the prostrate man. This was death.
As his anger slowly dissipated, he whispered a single word into the silent night.
“Lily.”
12 -
Title: Poema Arcanus
Author: laiksmarei
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angst
Word Count: 155
Cleansing fury, the burning righteousness fills his soul, stretching into a thin membrane that blankets the armour of his sub-conscious, preparing him for the fearless fight. Waves of anger ripple through muscle and tendon, jaw clenched tight, halting the venomous whispers and secret desires that threaten to spill from his lips.
Hatred consumes his heart, sullen and slow, honeyed vengeance purifying him against the wanton, the wicked, the tyrant just beyond the door. Love can no longer save him from selfish virtue for indignation is the more better, baser part.
Glittering eyes close. A sigh escapes him, deep and resigned as memories twisted yet treasured are locked behind wall after wall of silence. Shoulders squared, white noise and scrabbling buzz in his ears as the soldiering wizard steadies himself in the ultimate sacrifice for the Light.
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