Here they are!
Feb. 14th, 2004 12:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cerulean_skyI'm sorry. They are here. And on time (as it is Valentines as I post this...). I'm sorry that they are so incredibly sappy. Like, man, I choke on the sweetness... and the angst... There are some dark!fics...
Anyway, hope you all like them!!
(Tagg, yours is coming later, when I reread the book. But I will do it.)
Loyalty -- for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ladyjaida
There's something to be said when a man saves your life. When a man not only saves your life so you can finish a job, but then keeps you alive. There's something to be said for the officer that treats you as near an equal, who walks on foot with those under his command, and does not ride a horse.
Sharpe is that man, and Perkins lives the life he saved. Occasionally Sharpe feels the need to remind the Chosen men where their loyalty lies, and when Perkins ignores him for the most part. He needs no reminder. His loyalties were never in question, and they stand firm. No matter what.
Fear of the Moon -- forforever_slash
Remus, as a young boy, learned to fear the moon. He learned to fear what came between the waxing and the waning of the moon. It was nights he spent that he could hardly remember, when he woke up with pains so sharp he swore it was needles, that he feared.
Years later, he got over that fear. It was nights he spent howling to the moon in defiance, with sirius at his side, that cured him of that fear. He wasn't alone any longer. There was nothing to be afraid of.
He curled into the heat of Sirius's arms and smiled as they drifted to sleep beneath the light of the waning moon.
Expectaions -- fortcideneb
Hermione had never expected this to go this far. It had been a study session. And then it had been two. And then it had been five. And then ten. And that was when Hermione had lost count.
But no matter what her expectations had been, it had happened.
Cho would lean in and whisper something in her Hermione's ear, and Hermione's breath would catch in her throat for an instant. Every time Harry talked about Cho, Hermione would suddenly remember something she had forgotten elsewhere. And she felt bad about it.
But as Cho's hands ran gently over her breasts and placed light warm kisses on her mouth, Hermione's misgivings would melt away.
Birds of Paradise -- forturnedskyward
Birds of paradise are flowers, he knows. He's saw them briefly when he went to a warmer climate. He remembered them well though, despite the small amount of time he had with them. He remembers the colors, the shape. He remembers admiring it with Starwind. And he remembers how much that flower reminded him of his shay'kreth'ashke.
Starwind had laughed, when he had said so. Had said that Moondance was being silly, and that he didn't remotely look like a flower, much less that one.
So Moondance supposes that perhaps it was the name, or perhaps the splash of colors that made him think of that. But he doesn't much care. As Starwind holds him close, both of them tired from a full day, Moondance murmurers into his ear.
"My bird of paradise..." he whispers. And the two of them fall into ecstasy.
Sword Play -- forturnedskyward
It started with a boast about swords. Specifically, it started with Aragorn and a boast about swords. And getting more specific than that, it started with him saying he could best Eomer in a sword fight.
Eomer, naturally, attempted to prove him wrong.
It hadn't gone as planned for Eomer, and after about fifteen minutes of hard fighting, during which they had gathered a crowd of onlookers (several of which were betting on the outcome, Eomer saw), Aragorn had disarmed him and then leveled a sword at his throat.
He'd conceded defeat, as one does with a sword at one's throat.
Later, in his room, Aragorn had grinned about his victory, and this time Eomer had showed him that there were some things that he could best Aragorn in.
Dying in Your Arms -- fordorrie6
It wasn't fair, he thought. It wasn't fair that he had lost the one he loved, and on;y found the courage to tell him as he lay in his arms, his green eyes looking knowingly up at him.
"Harry, don't do this. Don't do this to me. I love you, don't die."
Harry had smiled. "I know. I'm sorry. I tried."
And the light in his green eyes had faded, his hand had dropped, and Draco had started to sob.
The-boy-who-lived died after he killed Voldemort. The savior of the wizarding world had died that night, leaving the people he cared most about safe.
They built a memorial for him, had it unveiled not three days later. But Draco hadn't gone. Because Harry was dead. And he was all alone.
Intruder Alert -- fordemetedsiren
Draco clawed at Harry's clothing as Harry feebly tried to push him away. He didn't want him to stop, not really, only wanted to move this activity somewhere more private. Somewhere not the floor of the potions class room.
"Draco. Snape... he'll... walk in or something... We gotta move..."
"Don't worry..." Draco managed between kissed to Harry's neck. "He's having tea, or lunch or something..." He pulled Harry's shirt off, and then his own.
"You... sure...?"
"Absolutely." Harry's pants vanished, as did Draco's.
"For once in your life, Mr. Malfoy, you are wrong." Snape leaned casually against the door of the class room, arms folded over his chest, and looking faintly amused. He took a step inside as the two of them practically sprang apart, and Harry's eyes darted to his clothing.
Snape closed the door.
"Oh, please." Snape said, gesturing to them. "Don't let me stop you from your activities. Please, continue." He strode to his chair behind his desk, and sat, smiling faintly.
Pale, Pale Skin -- forsbbo
There's blonde hair mixing with black, and pale skin against slightly tanner skin. Clothes have been abandoned (they can't seem to remember when) in favor of the heat of each other's bodies. The floor has been abandoned in favor of the bed.
The once made bed, is now a mess, and Harry knows that the house elves will have to change his sheets in the morning (and will of course know what happened, when, and with whom, as they seem to know everything), but Harry isn't thinking about that now.
He's thinking about making Draco moan his name, and then forget his own. He's thinking about bruising that pale, pale skin with passionate touches.
And he knows that Draco is thinking the same.
With Gentle Hands -- forsbbo
It wasn't often that Draco got beaten up by Harry Potter. It wasn't often that Draco came back to the common room with blood on his mouth and spilling from his nose.
Draco had known he couldn't go to Madam Pomfrey, it was after curfew after all. So he had limped (with all the dignity he could still manage and still limp) back to the Slytherin common room.
But when he did come back to the common room, on those rare occasions that he was beaten and beaten well, Vincent Goyle was always there with gentle hands to patch him up, and soothe his hurts.
Dangerous Shadows -- forravindra_anima
Harry's lip had split where Ron had punched him, and he watched his friend storm away.
"Honestly, I don't know what they see in you." Draco smirked as he slunk out of the shadows.
"Go away, Malfoy."
"Crabbe and Goyle have a bet on which of them snapped first. Looks like Crabbe won." He leaned against the wall next to Harry, who hadn't since moved since Ron had left.
"I'm not in the mood, Malfoy." Harry's head drooped and he fell back against the wall. He felt Draco's hand under his chin, and he tensed as the other forced him to look up at him.
"You're bleeding." Draco leaned forward and licked the blood carefully from Harry's lip, and then pulled him forward, crushing his lips in a kiss.
From Dizzying Heights -- forbeautifullydone
James and Sirius shared Quidditch. It was one of the only things that only the two of them, out of their four person group, shared between the two of them.
It was afternoons that they spent chasing each other on broomstick, practicing and laughing, as they flew complicated patterns that dizzied any and all who watched, that James knew he would always remember, always treasure.
And it was what they shared. That and their love, and neither was something that James wanted to ever give up.
Emerald Fire -- formeridian_star
Draco remembered blood. Red blood, and practically steaming in the cold. He had laughed, he remembered that too.
He wasn't laughing now. It wasn't Harry's blood that spilled over his hands, before his astonished eyes. It was his own.
And his world spiraled out of control in his last moments.
He no longer knew what he was saying (It didn't make much of a difference did it?), he could no longer feel the cold that had once made him shiver (But he could feel the cold of death. All too well.).
Harry's eyes were made of emerald fire.
"I... love... you..."
And darkness claimed him.
Anyway, hope you all like them!!
(Tagg, yours is coming later, when I reread the book. But I will do it.)
Loyalty -- for
ladyjaidaThere's something to be said when a man saves your life. When a man not only saves your life so you can finish a job, but then keeps you alive. There's something to be said for the officer that treats you as near an equal, who walks on foot with those under his command, and does not ride a horse.
Sharpe is that man, and Perkins lives the life he saved. Occasionally Sharpe feels the need to remind the Chosen men where their loyalty lies, and when Perkins ignores him for the most part. He needs no reminder. His loyalties were never in question, and they stand firm. No matter what.
Fear of the Moon -- for
forever_slash Remus, as a young boy, learned to fear the moon. He learned to fear what came between the waxing and the waning of the moon. It was nights he spent that he could hardly remember, when he woke up with pains so sharp he swore it was needles, that he feared.
Years later, he got over that fear. It was nights he spent howling to the moon in defiance, with sirius at his side, that cured him of that fear. He wasn't alone any longer. There was nothing to be afraid of.
He curled into the heat of Sirius's arms and smiled as they drifted to sleep beneath the light of the waning moon.
Expectaions -- for
tcidenebHermione had never expected this to go this far. It had been a study session. And then it had been two. And then it had been five. And then ten. And that was when Hermione had lost count.
But no matter what her expectations had been, it had happened.
Cho would lean in and whisper something in her Hermione's ear, and Hermione's breath would catch in her throat for an instant. Every time Harry talked about Cho, Hermione would suddenly remember something she had forgotten elsewhere. And she felt bad about it.
But as Cho's hands ran gently over her breasts and placed light warm kisses on her mouth, Hermione's misgivings would melt away.
Birds of Paradise -- for
turnedskywardBirds of paradise are flowers, he knows. He's saw them briefly when he went to a warmer climate. He remembered them well though, despite the small amount of time he had with them. He remembers the colors, the shape. He remembers admiring it with Starwind. And he remembers how much that flower reminded him of his shay'kreth'ashke.
Starwind had laughed, when he had said so. Had said that Moondance was being silly, and that he didn't remotely look like a flower, much less that one.
So Moondance supposes that perhaps it was the name, or perhaps the splash of colors that made him think of that. But he doesn't much care. As Starwind holds him close, both of them tired from a full day, Moondance murmurers into his ear.
"My bird of paradise..." he whispers. And the two of them fall into ecstasy.
Sword Play -- for
turnedskywardIt started with a boast about swords. Specifically, it started with Aragorn and a boast about swords. And getting more specific than that, it started with him saying he could best Eomer in a sword fight.
Eomer, naturally, attempted to prove him wrong.
It hadn't gone as planned for Eomer, and after about fifteen minutes of hard fighting, during which they had gathered a crowd of onlookers (several of which were betting on the outcome, Eomer saw), Aragorn had disarmed him and then leveled a sword at his throat.
He'd conceded defeat, as one does with a sword at one's throat.
Later, in his room, Aragorn had grinned about his victory, and this time Eomer had showed him that there were some things that he could best Aragorn in.
Dying in Your Arms -- for
dorrie6It wasn't fair, he thought. It wasn't fair that he had lost the one he loved, and on;y found the courage to tell him as he lay in his arms, his green eyes looking knowingly up at him.
"Harry, don't do this. Don't do this to me. I love you, don't die."
Harry had smiled. "I know. I'm sorry. I tried."
And the light in his green eyes had faded, his hand had dropped, and Draco had started to sob.
The-boy-who-lived died after he killed Voldemort. The savior of the wizarding world had died that night, leaving the people he cared most about safe.
They built a memorial for him, had it unveiled not three days later. But Draco hadn't gone. Because Harry was dead. And he was all alone.
Intruder Alert -- for
demetedsirenDraco clawed at Harry's clothing as Harry feebly tried to push him away. He didn't want him to stop, not really, only wanted to move this activity somewhere more private. Somewhere not the floor of the potions class room.
"Draco. Snape... he'll... walk in or something... We gotta move..."
"Don't worry..." Draco managed between kissed to Harry's neck. "He's having tea, or lunch or something..." He pulled Harry's shirt off, and then his own.
"You... sure...?"
"Absolutely." Harry's pants vanished, as did Draco's.
"For once in your life, Mr. Malfoy, you are wrong." Snape leaned casually against the door of the class room, arms folded over his chest, and looking faintly amused. He took a step inside as the two of them practically sprang apart, and Harry's eyes darted to his clothing.
Snape closed the door.
"Oh, please." Snape said, gesturing to them. "Don't let me stop you from your activities. Please, continue." He strode to his chair behind his desk, and sat, smiling faintly.
Pale, Pale Skin -- for
sbboThere's blonde hair mixing with black, and pale skin against slightly tanner skin. Clothes have been abandoned (they can't seem to remember when) in favor of the heat of each other's bodies. The floor has been abandoned in favor of the bed.
The once made bed, is now a mess, and Harry knows that the house elves will have to change his sheets in the morning (and will of course know what happened, when, and with whom, as they seem to know everything), but Harry isn't thinking about that now.
He's thinking about making Draco moan his name, and then forget his own. He's thinking about bruising that pale, pale skin with passionate touches.
And he knows that Draco is thinking the same.
With Gentle Hands -- for
sbboIt wasn't often that Draco got beaten up by Harry Potter. It wasn't often that Draco came back to the common room with blood on his mouth and spilling from his nose.
Draco had known he couldn't go to Madam Pomfrey, it was after curfew after all. So he had limped (with all the dignity he could still manage and still limp) back to the Slytherin common room.
But when he did come back to the common room, on those rare occasions that he was beaten and beaten well, Vincent Goyle was always there with gentle hands to patch him up, and soothe his hurts.
Dangerous Shadows -- for
ravindra_animaHarry's lip had split where Ron had punched him, and he watched his friend storm away.
"Honestly, I don't know what they see in you." Draco smirked as he slunk out of the shadows.
"Go away, Malfoy."
"Crabbe and Goyle have a bet on which of them snapped first. Looks like Crabbe won." He leaned against the wall next to Harry, who hadn't since moved since Ron had left.
"I'm not in the mood, Malfoy." Harry's head drooped and he fell back against the wall. He felt Draco's hand under his chin, and he tensed as the other forced him to look up at him.
"You're bleeding." Draco leaned forward and licked the blood carefully from Harry's lip, and then pulled him forward, crushing his lips in a kiss.
From Dizzying Heights -- for
beautifullydoneJames and Sirius shared Quidditch. It was one of the only things that only the two of them, out of their four person group, shared between the two of them.
It was afternoons that they spent chasing each other on broomstick, practicing and laughing, as they flew complicated patterns that dizzied any and all who watched, that James knew he would always remember, always treasure.
And it was what they shared. That and their love, and neither was something that James wanted to ever give up.
Emerald Fire -- for
meridian_starDraco remembered blood. Red blood, and practically steaming in the cold. He had laughed, he remembered that too.
He wasn't laughing now. It wasn't Harry's blood that spilled over his hands, before his astonished eyes. It was his own.
And his world spiraled out of control in his last moments.
He no longer knew what he was saying (It didn't make much of a difference did it?), he could no longer feel the cold that had once made him shiver (But he could feel the cold of death. All too well.).
Harry's eyes were made of emerald fire.
"I... love... you..."
And darkness claimed him.
no subject
on 2004-02-14 05:14 am (UTC)Re:
on 2004-02-14 05:15 am (UTC)Re:
on 2004-02-14 02:58 pm (UTC)Re:
on 2004-02-14 05:24 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2004-02-14 06:23 am (UTC)Times TWO.
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on 2004-02-14 05:17 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2004-02-14 06:42 am (UTC)Re:
on 2004-02-14 05:18 pm (UTC)Shall read ASAP! :D
no subject
on 2004-02-14 07:42 am (UTC)...::goes to take cold shower:: XP
Really, though, awesome. It's ten pounds of intrigue in a five-pound bag.
Re:
on 2004-02-14 05:19 pm (UTC)Thank you!
Glad you liked!! :D
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on 2004-02-14 08:00 pm (UTC)Re:
on 2004-02-15 04:04 am (UTC)no subject
on 2004-02-14 11:32 am (UTC)I hate you. Y'know. In a loving way.
It's beautiful and... *sob*
Thank you so much.
Re:
on 2004-02-14 05:22 pm (UTC)But! I'm still glad tat you like them, despite the fact that they have you crying... :D
no subject
on 2004-02-14 02:54 pm (UTC)Re:
on 2004-02-14 05:23 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2004-02-14 04:20 pm (UTC)Re:
on 2004-02-14 05:27 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2004-02-14 04:22 pm (UTC)[Though the title could use some work -- Sowrd Play? Come on!]
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on 2004-02-14 05:28 pm (UTC)But glad you liked other than that!! :D
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on 2004-02-14 05:48 pm (UTC)Heh, that too?
*laughs*
I really did like it though, excellent excellence!
Re:
on 2004-02-15 04:01 am (UTC)