one knife, one cup, one slanting smile.

Title: The Isle is Full of Noises
Pairing: Salazar/Godric
Rating: Soft R
AN: For txilar. I have developed a habit of taking months and months to write things for her birthdays, because I so want to write something good for her. This time I decided (finally) enough was enough!

Be not afeared;
this isle is full of noises
      The Tempest


( Salazar is like this: a curl of dark smoke against the drooping red sun, sinuous and subtle. )

For aillil, with ridiculous amounts of love. Happy Birthday, dear, and have a wonderful day. ♥ I swear I tried to make it cheerful. ;)


Somnambulism for Beginners
Gus/Gideon, G
Note: Based on the premise that after people die in the wizarding world, they can visit the living in dreams which are never remembered afterwards.

( For days afterwards all he remembers is how much noise there was, how much shouting and smoke, and then the long lurch of the boat that made him sick and how wonderful it was to feel something that he knew would pass. )

A quick birthday ficlet for vanitymachine, because inspiration struck!

The Other City
tom/walburga, pg-13
(HP/Silent Hill crossover)

( Picking through the bomb-torn half life of London in the blitz was not unlike this. He wonders if then, too, he had followed a half-seen girl through the cratered ruin of the quiet city: after the sirens, after the thunderous joy of the bombs, before the others (those meagre beings too afraid to face the skies) emerged from their rat holes in the ground. )

My fics of 2006. More than I expected, actually, but I don't think quite as many as last year.

( master-list type thing, including such gems as me trying to write trio-era fic on three(!) separate occasions, that weird one where everyone's dead (actually there are two of those), evidence of my growing Walburga obsession, and the really violent one people were scared to read, possibly wisely )

I've been in Birmingham for the last few days, but I think I forget to tell anyone. Anyway, I'm back now. :D Hello to new people who may have found me through this friending thingy, do introduce yourselves if you're so inclined and haven't already done so. :)

ETA: Another new layout, because I can't resist red for long: spessartine
ETA2: Why am I not getting comment notifications? ;_;

Also another festive ficlet!

Bodies of Water
Augustus Rookwood/Gideon Prewett for aillil. ♥


( Quiet now. )

Hope you had a great day darling.

Pieces
Fred and George
PG

( After the war everything was different. )

Title: Without Narcissus
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Tom Riddle, Voldemort
Notes: Written for hp_fairytales and based on - or inspired by - the story The Death of Koschei the Deathless. AU in which Tom Ridde's diary was not completely destroyed, and has been salvaged by Voldemort.

Koschei is extremely difficult to kill. His soul is hidden separate from his body inside a stone, which is in an egg, which is in a duck, which is in a hare, which is in an iron chest, which is buried under a green oak tree, which is on the island of Buyan, in the ocean. As long as his soul is safe, he cannot die.

( First is a noise like the unseen nails of a mouse on a metal plate. It implies movement, some small and unseen progress, but he cannot identify it. It worms inside his head and becomes half-forgotten until he can sleep again. )