#my barely asleep dreams are now riddled with playing this game???

[trashbatistrash]

,

[inber]

The Garden Game

A/N: Thank you for the prompt, @witchertrashbag my sweet! 1.5k of Yennskier fluff. No real spoilers, just two idiots who can't figure out an emotion. Enjoy~

There's a lazy haze of incense smoke curling through the air in sandalwood spirals. Yennefer feels as if she remembers the scent from a court she was forced to play nice at, once; it's the smell of decadence, something lavish on the edge of a gentle breeze. Get too close, and it turns acrid.

At least she is comfortable, sprawled on a plush chaise, cushioned by blueberry velvet. Upon glancing down, she notes with distant confusion that she's not wearing her own clothes. Someone else has chosen this for her.

It's not terrible; the gown is black, and the neckline plunges generously down, settling above her navel. The material isn't sheer – not quite – but if she stepped into the brighter light of the parlour, she'd find herself rather exposed. It's a tease of a dress, made altogether more pronounced by a lack of undergarments and a scattering of gold embellishments.

“Ah, there you are.” A familiar voice catches her attention. Jaskier is leaning against the open stone archway, holding two glasses in one hand, stems fitted between his fingers. “You're usually in the gardens.”

“I am?” Yennefer asks. The bard is dressed down, even for his standards. His chemise is left entirely open, revealing a bare densely-haired chest, and his trousers are so low-slung that if he was wearing hose, Yennefer knew she'd be able to see the ribbon ties that he favoured.

“Yes,” Jaskier answers, looking at her indulgently, “that's where we most often play our little game.”

“Our game?”

Jaskier laughs. Yennefer can't help but smile at the sound; rarely does he truly laugh anymore. “Oh, I see you've already started. How can I possibly keep up?”

“I don't understand, Jaskier.” Yennefer shifts from the lounge so she's sitting up. “What game?”

“What game? We've played for years now, dearest one. I ask your name. You give me riddles. And so it goes.”

Yennefer frowns. “You know my name, you simpleton.”

Around her, the building suffers a shiver, as if rocked by a minute earthquake. Dust dislodges from the ceiling. Jaskier doesn't seem to notice, but he does look confused.

“I promise you I do not. I have dedicated much time to trying to learn it, though. Wine?”

Wine. Yennefer blinks heavily, noting a crack in the sandstone of the wall. It suddenly hits her with a force that leaves her breathless; they are not in Kaer Morhen. She does not know where they are, and he does not recognise her.

Have they become trapped inside an illusion? Perhaps a lesson with Cirilla has gone desperately awry. What does Yennefer remember doing before ending up in this place?

“Wine?” Jaskier asks, again. He holds one glass out. It has filled itself with a rich red.

The answer solidifies like a wash of water on snow. They had been drinking, the two of them, in Yennefer's room. Inside Kaer Morhen. Jaskier had discovered a few bottles of very old wine in a forgotten part of the keep. They'd gone deep into their cups, talking into the evening. At some point, they must have both fallen asleep – exhausted and drunk.

It isn't unheard of for mages to walk within dreams, especially when a person is susceptible to having their mind opened. Generally speaking, however, the act is conscious, and with intent. Yennefer does not recall seeking passage into Jaskier's subconscious.

Then again, it isn't as though the two of them have slept together in the same room – certainly not alone. Trust Jaskier to dream so loudly that it would project into her being. Intoxicated as she had been, she'd probably simply tumbled across the borders of their psyches. And now here she is.

Yennefer knows what dreams can be like for humans. Blurry faces, the sense of a person; the recall of old memories, or suggestions. It's possible she can just tell him who she is, but she suspects that such information will simply collapse the dream and wake him up. She's already shaken the foundations of it.

“Thank you.” Yennefer accepts the offering. Jaskier sits on the chaise beside her, not at all timid about adopting a lordly recline as he drinks from his own glass. She sips the liquid. It's not real – she knows that now – but his mind tells her it's delicious and expensive, and so she believes it.

“So, same rules? Three guesses?” Jaskier asks, fingers flirting with the sleeve of her dress. She bats his hand away, and he smirks.

“Same rules.” Yennefer agrees. “Gods, Jaskier, how long have we played this game?”

He taps his chin. “You know, I'm not sure. A while. I think you turned up here... ah, see, that's the trouble! When I try to remember, everything goes all,” Jaskier gestures with one hand, “hazy, you know?”

Sagely, Yennefer nods. She drinks more of the wine.

“That's why I think you must be one of the mages. Someone Geralt knows. He's the only person I know that rubs shoulders with such mysterious folk.”

“Maybe I am.”

“Hah! We'll talk in circles forever, my dear. You never give a direct answer. All I know for sure is that you're utterly exquisite, and I find you in this palace most nights.”

Yennefer feels heat bloom high on her cheekbones. He doesn't know what he's saying. They might not hate each other any longer, but beyond that? It's a ridiculous notion. She refuses to pay it any mind. This is just a dream, and he's just talking nonsense.

“And there you go, getting fuzzier.” Jaskier points out. “You're so shy when I compliment you. I know that too.”

Sharply, she looks at him. Shy? That's what he's gleaned of her? “Am I? Maybe I just think you're wrong.”

The ceiling trembles again. Yennefer looks up. Dreams are fickle things; she doesn't know his rules here, nor his weaknesses. It'd be easy enough to find out, she supposes. But as Jaskier said, it is a game. She isn't about to cheat.

“I'm not wrong.” Jaskier corrects her. “I think... you're Triss.”

Yennefer shakes her head. “I think you've guessed that name before.”

Jaskier utters a small oath, swirling the wine. “So I have. Blast.”

It's not a bad guess, but it's the safest one. Triss is gorgeous, and contrite. Of all the sorceresses Yennefer knows, Triss is probably the most likely to retreat bashfully from Jaskier's advances. But Jaskier hasn't met her beyond Geralt's stories of her.

Still, it's not impossible to fall in love with the idea of a person. That would be like Jaskier, Yennefer thinks. Foolish, foppish poet.

“So. What you think you know of me is that I am shy and exquisite. Your words, not mine.” Yennefer checks the points off on her hand. “Is that all?”

“And difficult. We rarely get to play this game at all, you know. Most of the time you run from me. I chase you, but you always vanish. Which, by the way, is very unfair, being as this is my castle.”

“Shy, exquisite, difficult. Can't be caught. Maybe I'm not worth knowing, Jaskier.”

There's a thunderous crack as the roof suddenly collapses. Yennefer is privy to Jaskier's stare of absolute stupefaction – directed at her, and not at the tumbling masonry – before there's half-a-second of darkness.

-------------------

She doesn't gasp awake, but Jaskier does. Yennefer blinks bleary eyes at the sneaky light of dawn spilling in through her window. Beside her, Jaskier groans, mumbling incoherently.

“Fuck, what was...? Ah, my head.”

“The third bottle was your idea.” Yennefer says, dry voice cracking.

“Sorry, I woke you. And uh, fell asleep in your bed, it would seem.” Jaskier laughs nervously. It sounds strained. “In my defence, this is a very nice mattress.”

“I know.” Yennefer sighs, reaching over to pour them both some water. “Bad dream?”

Jaskier shakes his head. “No. I don't think so. I ah, actually don't really remember much of it. It's funny, I have this reoccurring dream, and I remember bits of—uh, nevermind. It's dull.”

“Go on.” Yennefer says.

“Well, I have a castle. And I have to find something. Or, or someone. I remember some places so vividly! I could tell you what grows in the garden. But I don't remember... why I am there. Who is there.” He shrugs awkwardly, taking the offered water. “Probably means nothing.”

Yennefer thinks about how quickly the castle fell when she suggested he give up his chase. How those simple words destroyed the entire fantasy. She thinks about how he spoke to her with such fondness. How his mouth looked, wine-stained, when he called her exquisite.

How many times has he chased her through the garden?

“No,” Yennefer says, “I think there's meaning in dreams. Even ones we don't understand yet.”

Setting his empty cup down, Jaskier glances side-long at her. “Did you have any dreams?”

Letting the rim disguise her smile, Yennefer drinks deeply of the water. Then she turns to look at him. "I dreamt I was playing a game.”

Something flits across Jaskier's expression for a moment, almost recognition, before it vanishes. “Hmm. Can I stay a few more hours? It's cold.”

She lets her head sink down into her pillow, turning her back on him nonchalantly. “Fine. You stay on your side, though.”

“Ooh, my side. I have a side.”

Yennefer reaches unseeingly behind her in order to shove him weakly. Jaskier lets her, jostling the bed. When he laughs, it sounds like a dream.

[keithan-p]

Hello! Could I request a scenario of the dorm leaders watching Melanie sing a love song while she's doing her work please and thank you!

No problemo!! I've found out that you guys really love scenarios-

If you want to request me don't forget to check out the pinned post 🥀 Also im not very confident of my writing so bare with my grammar 🥀

🥀Riddle Rosehearts 🥀

...

Riddle was supposed to buy some sugar cubes for his tea but got distracted...

He is now hiding behind a wall,Sticking his head out, looking at melanie doing her homework while singing a love song.

Why is he hiding? He could just walk up to her and greet her, it's not that hard. He thought. But His damn pride can't help but make him look at her from a distance.

Her voice is so soothing, listening to her sing is probably his dream too, he could just stand there and hear her sing the whole day...

He turned his head back to the front where he was standing and thought for a while, maybe he should just walk up to her?

It's not that hard Riddle! Relax.. the queen's of heart will never be too scared to walk up to her beloved!

With all his might, he pick up the courage to walk in the direction of melanie.

"Y-your voice is very nice.."

Baka Riddle! What kind of compliment is that? Scolding himself in his thoughts, he fully regretted what he just said.

"Oh-? Riddle! Thanks, that's sweet of you!"

Said Melanie with a smile on her face, unfortunately,the singing stops when she started talking to him. Riddle didn't regret it though, he finally got to talk to his crush.

As they talked together, the time flies by...

🥀 Leona Kingscholar 🥀

...

Class had been dismissed ,

Leona walks straight into the room Melanie is, despite hearing her singing,he just lay down on top of her lap while she is doing homework.

Afraid of waking him up, Melanie stops singing, but she got a grunt from the lion.

"Don't stop"

Said the lion as he continues closing his eyes, not knowing has he fall asleep or not.

After a grin from Melanie, she continued singing:

"Can you feel the love tonight~"

Continue writing her homework,she wouldn't move an inch while Leona sleep on her lap.

Leona couldn't help but opening his eyes to look at Melanie's eyes... He wanted to tell her a lot of things... But his pride stopped him. He also wanted to show affection, but he's afraid that she'll feel uncomfortable about it..

He let out a soft sigh and thought of something...

Suddenly, as Melanie finished a line , she heard Leona's voice echoed in the room.

“so many things to tell her...but how to make her see... "

Then he stopped. The whole room is filled with silence until Melanie laughed as she stated:

"Why wouldn't you continue the next line?"

Leona let out a 'tch' as he said that it's embarrassing.

With Melanie's soft laughing noises. Leona fell asleep . For real this time though. Kinda wondering how he could do that.

🥀 Azul Ashrengrotto 🥀

...

After his tiring work of signing contracts from people, Azul is exhausted. He is now looking for Melanie for someone to brag about his day.

Just as he stepped in the study room Melanie would always been, he heard her singing ... He recognised this song! It's a love song from a certain video game!

Such a nice voice... He couldn't help but claps his hand as he walks in the room . Melanie stops singing cause she got startled as he walks in but then she starts smiling after seeing Azul.

"oh- don't mind me, continue singing!"

Azul said with a smile on his face , Melanie then shaked her head as she continues singing.

"Shalalalalala My oh My! Looks like the girls to shy to go and-"

"kiss the girl!"

They sang together afterwards and Melanie also stopped doing her homework as they got hyped up and pretended that they are having a concert.

When they finished the song they laughed at their actions at the same time.

"That was fun, but you should finish your work ,my dea-"

Azul quickly stopped his sentence and awkwardly leave the room after excusing himself.

"whoosh.. that was close..."

🥀 Kalim Al Asim 🥀

...

Kalim is looking for Melanie to share his bento with her, but he couldn't find her anywhere!

Right! Melanie would always do her homework at this time, and she would sing!!

He pressed his ear to the wall, trying to hear where Melanie was. Yep, nothing. He can hear nothing.

Kalim is not afraid though! Cause he know what he could do to find Melanie.

He Take a deep breath and starts singing:

" I can show you the world! Shining, shimmering,splendid! Tell me princess,how long have you let your heart decide?"

Not caring the other students weird look on him , he only wish for her princess to come out.

"Oh ,Kalim! You shouldn't sing right here.. well I couldn't stop could I? Sigh...

A whole new world! A new fantastic point of view!"

Melanie sighed and sang along with Kalim as they started singing together in the middle of a corridor

There's a rumor that they finished the song in the middle of the corridor and a lot of students are listening to them too...

🥀 Vil schoenheit 🥀

...

Ugh now where's that potato that is supposed to come for skin care lesson...

Vil sighed as he stood at his room waiting for Melanie to show up. He then decided to go look for her .

He was walking along the corridor, walking by each and every classroom, hold up- is there's a singing voice he heard? out of curiosity, he walked towards the class and saw his potato cleaning the ground while singing...

"I'm wishing~ For the one I love... To find me~today..."

There's birds standing on the opened-window listening to Melanie singing... Just like a princess, Vil thought...

Vil smiled as he thought that he would also play along as well, he then walk towards her while she was changing the water in the bucket.

"One song~ I have but one song.. One song... For you~"

Vil sang while Melanie got startled for a second.

"Vil-senpai... You startled me hehe"

Melanie grinned as she look at Vil holding a mop.

"you little potato! You totally forget about today's skin care lesson don't you?!"

Vil scolded Melanie as he flicked his finger on her forehead. Melanie let out a hiss and laughed at her own clumsiness.

"sorry sorry..."

🥀 Idia Shroud 🥀

...

Idia had to meet up with Melanie today to share their anime merch , and Idia had to look for her.

Sighed, he grunted why wouldn't Melanie told him where would she be in the first place . Holding his bag full of anime merch, he went looking for Melanie.

Idia then walk around the campus them he saw Melanie sitting on a bench beside the garden, reading a book and. A bag right beside her. He assumed that its anime merch as well.

But Idia's thought told him t o hide and here he is , hiding behind a pillar.

Suddenly, Melanie started singing....

"No chance- No way I won't say.. I don't know~"

Hold up- isn't this the Disney movie soundtrack..what is it called again.. Right! Herculon!

Listening to her singing,Idia feel quite soothing as he lay on the pillar he is hiding behind, continue listening Melanie singing.

But then he heard the closing book noise and immediately walk out handing the anime merch to Melanie and muttered that she should've told him where would she be next time.

🥀 Malleus Draconia 🥀

...

Melanie couldn't sleep this day, and she decided to go roam around the ramshackle dorm.

Looking around ,there's lots of birds and owls, they started.. whistling? Yes, that's right...

Melanie then sank in thought for a while when she starting humming..

She never knew that a certain someone is hiding somewhere, somewhat listening to her hums

Malleus was behind the bushes, looking at his little prefect tenderly.

Then Melanie starts singing softly while feeding the birds

"I wonder.. I wonder.. I wonder why each little bird had someone to sing to sweet things to a gay little love bird melody..?"

Surprised by her singing voice, Malleus couldn't help but laughed softly, that's right.. his child of man is indeed very princess-like.

He then slowly walk towards Melanie as he stood right behind him.

"Such a good voice, child of man "

Melanie laughed as she told Malleus she actually knew he's here the entire time.

"you always brings me some unexpected events, child of man"

He stated that with a grin, then they both starting humming together through the night..🥀

💮

[gingervitus]

Oh how fun! I think 4 would be lovely and you might have fun playing with 21? (It ties in quite nicely to some of the things you’ve set up before with the multiverse if you wanted to take it that way.) Happy Monday! (Or, technically, I suppose Tuesday, lol.)

Oh man okay! We’re gonna make this one a combo.

4 & 21.

“Please, don’t cry. I can’t stand seeing you cry.”

He blinked. The house was quiet in the middle of the night. Often, he found himself wandering downstairs when he would be stirred from his sleep. Panic usually found him around two in the morning. A flash. A bang. Crumbling rubble all around him. His eyes would shoot open half the time to discover that he wasn’t able to move. Or scream. He could barely breathe. Other times, he would snap up in bed, gasping for air. Entire body shaking. Heart pounding in his chest. 

That particular morning he had skittered out of the bedroom and down the stairs. He didn’t know how long he paced around the living room. His vision was so blurry, head so fuzzy, he couldn’t even think about looking at the clock. Hands raked through his hair. Breaths came out labored, scraping his wind pipe as they escaped. His mouth felt like it was full of dust, dry and dirty. It felt as though he had gargled gravel and then sent it grating down his throat all the way into his belly. 

Truthfully, he hadn’t realized he started crying. He had just been pacing and pacing and pacing. Maybe if he walked enough the dreams would stop. Logically, he knew he had just been dreaming. He was well aware of that. The logic was in the forefront of his mind, but the paranoia was louder. Something about waking up in the dark was disconcerting to him. Being lurched from the hell scape of his mind into the pitch black made him feel physically ill.

Then there were those nights where he couldn’t move. No panting. No walking. No playing with his hands. His eyes in those moments would dart around frantically. He knew what was coming. The night terrors started when he was little. A small boy screaming in the night for someone, anyone really, to come and save him once he finally found his voice. In his house, though, it took on a different shape. There were always monsters in the closet or under the bed, but now, it manifested in his jacket hanging off the back of his door.  Shifting and shaping into something horrific.

At the bottom of it, the thing wasn’t exactly scary. Not at first glance at least. It never came too close to him and was almost shaped like a person. A person just lingering in the far corner of his bedroom. He was told by almost everyone that it was just the dark playing tricks on his eyes no matter how much he argued that they were wrong. This was never just some sort of shadow his brain was forming into something it recognized and could have an anxiety attack over. The darkness was what he imagined a blackhole to look like. A swallowing black. Like deep space past all the stars and planets. The coldest and blackest shadow he had ever seen. One that didn’t disappear when slivers of moonlight slid over it. That stared back at him with empty navy eyes which almost glowed. What seemed to be a face covered in cracks as though it was made of porcelain. Like a mask in the darkness that was just watching and waiting for something.

So there he was in the living room, hands falling limp at his sides. Tears continued rolling down his cheeks. He didn’t even know why he was crying, but he couldn’t stop. She stared at him from across the dimly lit room, trying her best to suppress a yawn. Her eyes looked tired, face drawn long with exhaustion after back to back twelve hour shifts at Beanies. Now she had to deal with him freaking out over something that probably wasn’t real no matter how it felt. His mouth hung slack for a moment as he tried to muster up some sort of response to her. His head felt like it was stuck in a haze. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. And he was. Sorry to have woken her up. Sorry to have been so fucked up. Sorry that he was standing in the middle of the living room at nearly three in the morning crying but not knowing what he was crying about. “I... I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Her brows knit together before she crossed the room to meet him. This time around he could feel the lump rising in his throat. One riddled with guilt and anxiety. “Hey, now.” Her hands were cool on his cheeks. The pads of her thumbs brushed away stray droplets. He choked out a sob. “Hey, come on. You’re okay.” He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping he would open them and be back in bed. It wasn’t going to happen, but that certainly didn’t stop him. His breaths were shallow and labored. “Look at me.” He couldn’t. “Hey.” His eyes opened slowly. While she did look like she could have fallen back asleep standing on her feet in front of him, those tired eyes were scanning all over his face like she was looking for an answer to how to help him. Another cry crawled out of his chest. “Shh, it was just a bad dream.” Her thumbs grazed across his cheekbones. “Just a dream, okay? None of it was reality.”

She was aware of the dreams. He had told her about them when they had initially started staying at each other’s places overnight. Just in case something happened, he wanted to make her aware. However, since they had been seeing each other, he hadn’t had any issues. Night after night of cool dark sleep. He thought she was the remedy to an illness he didn’t know he had. His shoulders sagged as he shook his head. “But... I don’t think it is, okay?” he babbled quietly. “And it was one thing when it was just me, but now, you’re here and I can’t...” The words died on his lips once he realized how crazy he sounded. He was going to tell her he couldn’t protect her from whatever it was because it paralyzed him. Made him absolutely useless. Almost like he was a sacrificial pawn in a game of chess. “I’m sorry.”

Her eyes were soft as they always were with him. She continued holding his face while she ducked hers closer to his. “Hey, I’ve got you, okay?” she assured him, face growing serious for a moment. “You’re alright.” He wanted to believe her, but his mind was still racing. “You’re not all on your own anymore, Paul. You know that, right?” That was the way it had been for years. Just him barely taking care of himself in the ways he really needed to. Just slightly keeping it together. “You asked me to live here, so this is my house, too. And no punkass... I don’t fucking know. No punkass demonass thing is allowed in my house bothering my favorite nerd, got it?” He let out a watery chuckle. A slight smile broke out on her lips. “Fuck getting the church or a psychic or whatever involved. I will beat the ever loving shit out of Beezlebub and send him back to hell with my size six boot lodged so far up his ass he won’t be getting it out for the next millenium.” 

Tears mixed with soft laughs as the heavy panic began to settle. It was one of his favorite things about her. How there was never a moment where she couldn’t bring light to his shitty situations. There was always something she could pull out of her hat to make him laugh. Even if it was three o’clock in the morning and he was smackdab in the middle of panicking. “Okay,” he agreed, sniffling. “Maybe do two, though. Because one boot isn’t much use.”

“Oh no, we put that on the porch, so all his little fucking demon friends know that I’m not fucking around and that there’s another boot good and ready for an ass.” She pulled his head down to hers, so she could kiss his forehead. When he returned to look at her again, her expression had changed to a soft seriousness. “I love you. You know that, right?”

Maybe it was just a dream. “I do.” It was very possible that was all it was. “I love you, too.” But god, he hoped and prayed she wasn’t.

[7demonhoes]

The demon boys during a night out drinking with you

This turned out a little longer than expected, whoops. Hope you like it!!

Warnings: alcohol mention, swearing

Gender neutral MC

Mammon:

Ya’ll know the avatar of greed doesn’t know when to stop when he’s having a good time

So when the two of you decide to go bar hopping, he goes a bit crazy with his liquor

He’s taking shots of rum and tequila like the Four Horsemen are going to ride through the Devildom the next morning

Even with that devilish tolerance of his, he feels those shots eventually and is staggering by the time you two decide to go home 

"MC hold my hand" "MC carry me" 

If you hold his hand, he swings your arms back and forth like a giddy little kid 

He loses that tsundere personality when drunk, instead using every excuse to touch you-- an arm around your shoulder, curling a finger around your hair, teasingly poking you in the side 

"MC I have a secret but I can't tell you what it is shhhh" *mushes his finger against your lips* 

While you walk home, if some demon even tries to LOOK your way he's shrugging himself off you to go fight the poor bastard 

"You lookin' at MY human? I got dibs on that one, ya hear?" 

If you don't snuggle with him for at least half an hour once you get back home he'll be pouty for the rest of the week.

Satan: 

One day you wake up with the best idea: sneak drinks into an escape room and try to get out together while absolutely plastered 

*Cue detective Satan* 

"MC I've connected the dots. I know who locked us in here." 

"Satan that's not the point of this at all." 

"It was the man who was pretending to be helpful by showing us around the building. He locked us in here." 

"Satan that's literally his job" 

Once he finally remembers what you're actually doing there, he solves the riddle in minutes. 

You spend the rest of the night wandering the shops of the Devildom, occasionally wandering into a restaurant or bar to get some more drinks. 

Satan gets the drinks with the coolest names or the beers with the most aesthetically pleasing bottles/cans 

You guys decide to head back a little early but once you pass a park on the way home Satan dashes into the trees 

"What the FUCK are you doing??"

"MC shush I heard meowing!" 

Aaaannnd now you two are hiding a cat in the HoL. Satan is glad to raise a child with you.

Asmodeus: 

Bitch you're going CLUBBIN

You guys coordinated your outfits and are looking fine af

Asmo is all about class: Martinis, cosmos, pretty much anything in a fancy looking glass 

Drinks just as much as Mammon but mostly because you two are dancing so hard he barely feels it 

"Honey you're looking fine but that outfit would look much better around your ankles" 

When the two of you have to pee, you become best friends with every other drunk person in the bathroom 

Compliments and flirts with everyone he sees 

His dancing is very…. Sensual. Yumm 

Once you guys decide to walk your sore feet home, he has his arms wrapped around your waist the entire time 

"Oooh we have to do this again! I had the greatest time with you!" 

If you're feeling like having some fun with him, you know that the night is far from over

All of the other brothers are jealous the next morning because you and Asmo are giggling at your new inside jokes during breakfast

Beel: 

The bars you want to go to have snacks? He's in. 

He's just happy to spend time with you 

He drinks for the taste-- he likes beer, especially stouts 

It's a pretty chill night, honestly-- the two of you sit and talk in dimly lit, quiet bars 

You hit one last bar, thinking that it'll be a short stop but you end up staying there until close because of the wonderful conversations you're having 

You stand up to leave and the world swivels around you. Holy crap did you actually drink that much??? 

Beel's obviously feeling it too, but he's more focused on keeping you from stumbling than his own lack of sobriety

He ends up getting too worried that you'll fall so he just sweeps you off your feet and decides to carry you bridal style 

His chest is a very nice pillow cuz, you know, tiddies

He's super affectionate while drunk. He nuzzles his cheek on the top of your head while carrying you, humming quietly as he does 

"You can go to sleep MC, I don't mind, even if you do snore" 

Once you get back home, he carries you up to your room and gets you ready for bed-- he even goes so far to do your skincare routine for you. 

He decides to lie down with you (just for a bit!) but accidentally falls asleep with you curled in his arms. He greets you the next morning with a huge, warm smile 

Levi: 

By some miracle, you convinced him to leave the house 

He complains a bit about not being surrounded by his 2-D friends until you find an arcade that also serves drinks 

The two of you compete in Every. Game. Loser has to drink. 

You're sloshed pretty quickly. You think you could beat a nerd who's constantly playing games in his room? Sucker. 

Levi likes fruity drinks. He's not ashamed of it, but he never really drinks in front of his brothers because they tease him for it

"You're different, though. I mean, whatever! It's not like I care what you think! I mean don't get me wrong, I like you a lot but-- GAH!" 

When he's drunk he's actually hilarious. Everything he keeps to himself is just blurted out of his mouth and damn that boy is funny 

"Business idea: Fuckin…. Light Up Heelies. If I wore those babies to RAD I'd be drowning in bitches" 

On your way back home, he decides to tell you all of his secrets. Nothing is embarrassing when you're drunk. He will later regret this. 

"MC you could punch me in the face and I think I'd say thank you. No really. Just punch me. I've been thinking about asking you for weeks" 

The two of you stay up late watching stupid vines/tik toks and laughing so hard that you wake everyone else up

Belphie: 

It's really hard to get him drunk because after a few drinks he gets even sleepier 

You jokingly suggested that you just hook him up to an IV filled with vodka and he said yes. You think it's a horrible idea but now he wants to try it 

You compromise by taking five shots back to back 

You realize that was a mistake pretty quickly but Belphie feels awake enough to go out 

You guys go to lively clubs and bars, but Belphie's version of dancing his bobbing his head while sitting down 

Trying to keep up with demons is hard. How are you this drunk. Belphie's barely even tipsy and he's had more drinks than you 

Homeboy likes to order the grossest kinds of alcohol on the menu "What? It's cheap" 

"MC want to see something fucked up" *does it without waiting for your answer* 

He tries to convince you to give him a piggyback ride on the way home

The kind of drunk that calls you names the entire night like "loser" "crackhead" "my dumb human" 

Tries to run into ongoing traffic like seven times 

Tells you he wants to play games and chat when you get back home but he just passes out against your doorway 

Lucifer: 

This man is all about dimly lit, classy establishments that serve overpriced cocktails with cool names and ingredients

Definitely a whisky/bourbon/wine guy 

There's a piano at the lounge. You tell him to go play it, and he flat out refuses

*Four drinks later* "And here's a song I wrote for you during the lonely hours of the night" 

He slowly becomes more and more affectionate-- placing his hand on top of yours, touching the small of your back whenever you walk anywhere together, resting his palm against your thigh 

Compliments your outfit all the time 

He slowly lets his guard down and he starts fondly talking about all of his brothers and tells you his favorite stories 

You thought Mammon was an attention-seeking drunk? He's nothing compared to the touch starved, caffeine deprived Lucifer 

"MC let's slow dance" "MC I'm so happy you're here" "MC I wish you could stay with us forever" 

He keeps you close on the way home, his arm around your waist. He occasionally digs your face into the crook of your neck and his hot breath triggers goosebumps to tingle along your flesh

"Sometimes I dream about you, me, and Diavolo traveling to some distant country and living together without ever thinking of the world's problems" 

Cooks for you when you get back and uses every excuse to stay up just a little bit longer with you

[purplesurveys]

1145

What were your favorite things to draw when you were a lil kid?  I knew I wasn’t an artist the moment I started experimenting with pens and markers, and the only image I liked to keep - and was capable of - drawing on repeat was your usual kid’s portrait of a house with a sun and clouds lmao. I never learned how to draw anything else.

Do you think there is something with or around you, like a spirit, angel, ghost or something else? How does this make you feel?  No, never.

Imagine you’re a stranger looking at yourself. What things would immediately catch your eye?  Probably the way I’m scowling at stranger-me staring at me-me.

When did you feel the most confident in your life? Not sure when I’ve felt the most confident, but I typically feel so whenever I get something I’ve been desiring and working hard for, like getting a job offer or being accepted to my dream college or passing a really difficult exam.

Do you think love is needed to have good sex? For some people, no. For me, loving one another is an absolute must. < Yes, hits the nail on the head for me.

Do you think, or want to, die in the city you currently live in? I don’t think it would matter where I die, as long as it’s not from a terrible freak accident.

What is the strangest thing you have ever encountered?  That time I went to Singapore and a sex toy shop was casually blatantly standing in the middle of Orchard Road for families to stroll pass. It’s not objectively strange, of course, but it was definitely a big culture shock. Putting up sex shops in the Philippines is basically a game of who can find the best spot to hide them in.

Favourite soft drink? I never drink soda, so I don’t have a favorite.

What do you like to put gravy on? Fried chicken or steak.

Have you ever gone canoeing/kayaking?  Yes, in Palawan.

What is one thing you know about your family history you’re proud of?  I come from a line of datus from both precolonial and colonial Philippines. The most exciting part about it is that it technically makes me a princess, or at least our local version of princesses haha. I’m also distantly related to one of the three women who sewed the first Philippine flag.

Who depends on you the most? Kimi and Cooper, surely.

Are you related to anyone famous or historical, if so who?  See two questions above. Coming from my datu ancestors, my relatives also continue to serve in the local government of our family’s province until today. Not that I’m particularly proud of them or show this off whenever I want because they are all very vocal Duterte supporters and regularly engage with him and his family, so *barf*

Would you ever donate a kidney to anyone, and who?  If it ever comes down to it, I’d offer one of mine to my dad, Angela, and either of her parents.

What is the main quality you think makes a great parent? They recognize when they’re wrong and know to acknowledge it and apologize.

What three things do you think of most of each day? Tasks I have to do for work for the day, tasks I have to do for the rest of the week, and financial concerns.

Does/did your high school have pop machines?  No, of course not. Are there schools that are ok with selling soda? :/

Do you know anyone who’s won the lottery?  Not that I know of, but then again these things are shared in secret so there’s always that chance of possibly knowing someone who won the lotto at some point.

Have you ever slept in a water bed? Never slept but I’ve played on one.

How often do you use Flickr?  I haven’t visited that site since I was like 11. Not even sure it still exists.

Who is the last child that you took a photo with?  I think my cousin Toffe, but it was most likely a family photo that the two of us happened to be in. I don’t have a lot of photos with my younger cousins and kids in general.

How often do you wear hats? Never. I always think about getting a bucket hat of my own but I just never go through with it.

Would you ever get a nature tattoo? I never even entertained the thought before. But considering Hayley’s albums and songs have like a million references to flowers, it sounds like a good idea now :)

Is anyone in your family sick at the moment?  My paternal great-grandma was recently confined in a hospital but she’s been discharged. I have a grand-aunt who suffered a mild stroke a couple of weeks ago and is currently recovering.

Where do your siblings work, if anywhere? They are both still studying. If I had to guess, my sister would probably end up in the film, media, or advertising industry, if not a freelance artist.

Where is your favorite place to buy groceries?  If I had the money for it I’d get my groceries at Marketplace, but I’m content with getting ours from SM or Robinsons for now.

Who do you generally talk to the most? Probably my immediate family and my team at work.

Is anyone saved in your phone under a nickname?  Not anymore. I use nicknames on my friends more frequently on Facebook Messenger.

Whose birthday is coming up?  One of my cousins’ birthday is on March 31.

Have you ever ordered from an informercial? No, never.

When, where, and why did a needle last pierce your skin?  Around a month ago when I was embroidering. I usually accidentally prick myself from time to time.

Have you been to an escape room? Was it a success?  Nah, not really my idea of fun. I’m a little weak at problem/riddle-solving :(

How many followers do you have on Instagram? I literally never use my Instagram except to lurk and look for influencers to potentially tap for work. The account was initially my one-photo-a-day-in-2020 dump, but I stopped in April last year and now we’re in 2021 it doesn’t even serve a purpose anymore lmao. But for some reason Bea asked for my account and still followed me (and is the only person following me), which I’m sure she already regrets.

What’s the most recent music video you watched? Thoughts?  Continued the next day. Jessi’s What Type of X. Killed it as always.

Have you ever recorded a cover of a song? Never.

What makeup products are your go-tos?  None.

Are you going to school this year?  No, not anymore. I did that for the very last time in 2020, and I don’t see the point in going back for an MA because I feel like I’m already covered.

What is your favorite water activity? I’ve only ever tried kayaking, but that was a very pleasant memory.

What are your favorite video games? I’m not a super passionate video game fan who’s always up-to-date, but I do have a soft spot for games I bonded on with my family when I was a kid, like Grand Theft Auto (very inappropriate for a kid to be playing, I know lol), Silent Hill, Resident Evil, Mario Kart, and Smash Bros.

Do you like jello? I never got over the texture, so no.

When was the last time you gave someone "the finger?" Not sure when exactly but it happened recently, maybe a week or two ago. I suddenly thought about my ex and flung both fingers around just for myself lol.

Have you ever held a snake?  Yes, I got the chance to hold and take a photo with one on my trip to Bali. I was the only willing one in the family.

Most unique place you’ve ever been to?  Baker’s Hill in Palawan is what I would imagine seeing if I ever took drugs and had a trip of some sort. Most random place ever.

If you were a superhero, what color would your cape be?  Continued from...I don’t even know anymore. Just know it’s been nearly a week since I first started this, lmao. Idk maybe gold.

Have you ever slept out on your porch all night?  We don’t have a porch. We do have a rooftop and I’ve fallen asleep there a couple of times. I only do so when the climate is cold, though.

Do you like horror movies?  Sure, but I haven’t watched any in years. Just have never been in the mood for it for a long while now.

What’s your favorite Coke product?  Blech, I hate soda.

Watergun or water-balloon war?  Water gun. I’ve never been hit by a water balloon but I imagine it hurts?? so I wouldn’t want to experience it if I never had to.

Do you know anyone that’s afraid of elevators?  I know my sister and grandma are claustrophobic but they’re not ~deathly~ afraid of elevators.

Is there anything in your room that belongs to a boyfriend, or a friend of the opposite sex?  I don’t think any of my guy friends have lent me stuff that I got to take home, so no.

Who’s your favorite Beatle?  I was never a fan. I remember pretending to be, back when liking The Beatles made you look all cool and hippy and trendy... but I honest to god just couldn’t get into their music.

Have you ever texted an ex whilst drunk? How’d that go?  Yeah just once, super super way back when I was still thought remaining friends with her was the way to go. It was fine, I didn’t message anything horrific and we were both chill about it the next morning.

Do you have to stand on your tip-toes to kiss your boyfriend?  I don’t have a partner anymore but yeah, I used to. I think? Maybe? I barely remember anymore. I definitely did have to tilt my head up quite a bit, though.

Have you ever been tackle-hugged? I can’t remember if I’ve received one. I’m usually the one who gives them.

Have you ever rejected someone’s kiss before?  I don’t think I’ve been in this situation before.

Is your mood or the overall tone of your day often affected by the dreams you had the night before?  Just for like the first half hour of waking up, especially if it was a nightmare or a triggering dream. The more I wake up the more the dream fades away, and the sillier it feels that I was affected by it.

Do you think that there are any positive aspects or outcomes of suffering from a mental illness? If you have a mental illness, do you think it has changed you for the better in any way?  No. Sugarcoating mental illness doesn’t sit well with me at all. I know I’ve learned to be gentle and understanding towards other people because of the emotional abuse I’ve received in my own relationships, and I absolutely hate that it’s because of mental illness. I shouldn’t have had to learn to be kind because I was treated shittily first.

What is your opinion on celebrity culture and celebrity worship? Have you ever been guilty of putting a celebrity on a pedestal? Do you think it’s somehow more acceptable/understandable to obsess over certain types of celebrities (musicians over YouTubers, say) than others? At what point do you think an obsession like that crosses the line?  I sometimes think it’s silly when fandoms fight and defend their favorites as if they know them personally, but I’m heavily into my fair share of celebrities and I honestly don’t see anything wrong with it. As long as you’re not hurting anyone or doing anything stupid like stalking your favorites, you do you.

If you were to pursue a career in photography and had the opportunity and means to photograph whatever you wanted, what would most like to photograph?  People.

Is there a certain type of clothing (outerwear, activewear, loungewear, etc.) that you enjoy shopping for more than others?  Cute tops.

Are you ever afraid to post your ideas, artwork, photography, etc. online for fear that they will get stolen or not credited?  No, because I am not even creative in the first place and can’t make any form of art to save my life.

When is the last time you did something sexual? Last night.

Who is the last person you showered with, if anyone?  My ex but that would’ve been ages ago. It was super rare that we absolutely had to shower together.

What do you think when you see roadkill on the side of the road?  Sad and kinda disgusted if the guts are out, but also relieved that they don’t have to suffer in pain anymore.

Have you ever had an ex that just didn’t understand that it was over?  Yeah, me. Luckily I came to my senses a few months ago and have felt better and been better ever since.

Are your fingernails currently short or long?  They’re unequal lengths because I’ve been either biting or picking at them over the last few weeks, but for the most part they are long enough to need to be clipped.

Would you rather have big or small dogs?  Big.

What is your favorite sports drink? I don’t drink any of them, so none.

What was the last compliment you gave a guy?  I told my dad the dinner he made tasted excellent.

Does your jaw ever crack, pop, or lock?  I don’t think my jaw has ever made a sound before, hahaha.

Have you ever thought of how you would give your kids “the talk”?  No, but I think it’s also relevant to note that I live in a very conservative country where sexual intercourse is never discussed, especially within families; and that it’s virtually unheard of to hear of people until my generation to have been given the talk. I had to find out all by myself, and I remember being very confused when we were being taught the reproductive system in fifth grade because they only taught about the organs and their functions, and never anything deeper than that.

Luckily the last conservative generation was Gen X, and younger generations have been a lot more open-minded. And if I had to guess, I’m fairly certain Millennial parents would be more willing to give their kids the talk.

Do you ever feel like you’re missing out on something?  I mean, my 20s, thanks to Covid.

Do you ever write/draw on windows that are fogged up?  Yes.

If you were married, and your spouse’s parents became ill, would you let them move into your home? Of course.

Have you screamed in a pillow before?  Probably.

What do you like more, acoustic or electric?  Electric.

Did you actually have a cookie jar?  No.

What’s worse, having someone mad or disappointed in you? Disappointment is more gut-wrenching. I feel more hopeless and helpless when someone feels that way about me.

What do you bite on more, your tongue, lip, or nails?  Definitely my nails. Lip-biting isn’t a habit of mine and I only ever bite my tongue accidentally.

Do you think that knowing when and how you’re going to die would ruin your life?  No. I would find that comforting, actually.

Do you have a favorite bromance? From TV or a movie.  J-Man and Channy’s from Friends.

Do you find flea markets and thrift stores enjoyable?  Sure.

What color is your wallet?  Pink, but I def have to buy a new one soon as I’m still using the one my ex gave me...

Have you ever been somebody's photography subject? No, and I would hate to be. I don’t like being in front of the camera.

Nicki Minaj fan?  I like a lot of songs by her but I’m by no means a fan.

Have you ever seen the Niagara Falls?  Nope but I would love to.

[sirius-archive]

Chaos Theory Chapter 13

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Reader, Harry Potter x Reader, Draco Malfoy x Reader, George Weasley x Reader, Fleur Delacour x Original Male Character

Warning: Swearing, mild smut, drug use

Word Count: 6,411

A/N: I’m finally posting this!! I’ve been working on it for ages and I’ve scrapped so many drafts but now I’ve finally settled on one I like! I also apologise for the format; I’m posting on my mobile bc I’m house sitting for a friend. I will repost later when I’m back at home but for now, enjoy.

Please be aware that there is a mild sex scene toward the end of the story and also discussion about underage sex. If this makes you uncomfortable, please stop reading. 

P.S thank you to everyone who waited so patiently for this chapter!!!

***

Chapter thirteen

There is an old-fashioned code for people like him; honour among thieves. 

Darius has never been that trusting let alone stupid — stupid gets you caught, and he’s far too busy to get caught by the assholes chasing him. Darius has been in the business since he can remember, and he knows all to well that thieves have no honour, that’s why they’re thieves. 

Still, He’s always known to a certain degree that his own greedy ambition would thrust him headlong into a nest full of hungry serpents. It’s an occupational hazard, he supposes; there’s always someone with an ulterior motive, which is why he works alone. He can’t deal with snitches. 

Snitches are just asking to be killed. 

The one that snitched on him is practically begging Darius to kill him, and he’s going to grant the snitch that wish as soon as he gets out of here. 

Thanks to the suicidal dumbass, Darius now has to deal with the auror’s who have managed to invade his underground safe house.  He can sense them creeping through the sewage, armed with wands that have taken away countless lives. 

It’s all very...inconvenient the whole situation is. He’d just settled into his neat, little man cave. Now he has to find a new spot. 

Using wandless magic, Darius effortlessly levitates a giant dung bomb from its spot in a box and drops it in front of the door. With a snap of his fingers, Darius ignites the bomb just as the door bursts open in a cloud of dust and dirt. 

“I found him!” Auror douchebag murmurs into a hidden mouth piece and Darius smirks. 

“Took you long enough,” Darius quips, “Would you like a tea or a coffee? I would offer you something stronger but I’ve run out — I’ll just pop down to the liquor store—“

Auror douchebag’s lips bend into an ugly, menacing smirk, “You’re not leaving here alive, boy. You stole from the wrong people. Give me the book.” 

Instead of answering, Darius slants a glare at the auror, noting his height and weight. Darius copies auror douchebag’s stance and posture. 

“You’re not leaving here alive, boy,” Darius mimics, almost laughing at auror douchebag’s confused expression, “You stole from the wrong people. Give me the book!”  

“Stop that!” Barks auror douchebag, raising his wand, “Give me the damn book!” 

“Stop that! Give me the damn book!” 

Auror douchebag takes several steps forward, attempting to assert his dominance. 

“Stop playing games,” Auror douchebag snaps, “You don’t realise how much danger you’re in.” 

Darius takes a decisive step forward, straightening his posture. He’s significantly taller than auror douchebag, and the coward has to take a step back. 

“No need to be afraid,” Darius remarks, the beginnings of a smirk flirting around the corners of his lips, “It won’t hurt.”

Auror douchebag snorts, “What are you on about, boy? What won’t hurt?” 

“Killing you,” Darius replies, simply, “Well, it won’t hurt me anyway.”

Auror douchebag’s mouth flaps open to spit some dull remark, but before he can finish the dungbomb at his feet explodes. Plumes of thick, acrid smoke fill the air, clouding both auror douchebag and Darius’ vision. Auror douchebag splutters into his fist, distracted long enough for Darius to land a punch to his jaw and a roundhouse kick to his chest.  

Auror douchebag flies backward, gasping as the wind is knocked out of his lungs. His head lolls forward, resting on his shoulder as his lids slide shut and he drifts off into unconsciousness.

Darius smirks, “You should have let me go to the liquor store.” 

Concentrating hard on auror douchebag’s rugged appearance, Darius’ skin ripples and stretches, bones crunching into place as he morphs into an exact copy. Rising to his feet, Darius transfigures the unconscious body of auror douchebag into a rat just as his partners rush into the room. 

They sent the whole god damn brigade, Darius thinks with a flush of pride. 

Doubling over, Darius feigns a serious rib injury, rasping on a sharp, jagged breath, “He escaped! He beat my dumb ass and went that way!” 

The aurors stupidly follow Darius directions, rushing off to the other end of the sewer. Darius waits until their footsteps fade before grabbing his escape bag and scaling the ladder out of the sewer, smirking as he escapes into the night. 

When he finally finds somewhere to lay low — an abandoned mansion that’s most likely haunted — Darius drops onto the creaking, jarrah bed and unzips his bag.

“Finally” He murmurs, staring down at an ancient, leather bound book.

Darius studies the book he had stolen with curiosity, wondering why everyone wants this book so damn much. He opens the first page, noting the snake consuming its tail and the Scarab beetle fluttering its moth-like wings. What a strange illustration...

Beneath it, scrawled on the page in barely-legible chicken scratch, is a strange Latin incantation. Without even realising it, Darius mutters the incantation, not knowing the ripple effect those simple words will unleash on the world he knows, not realising the tragedy contained within the stained pages of the book, not realising what it means to his estranged family...

Not knowing that, three-thousand miles away, (Y/N) Arden startles awake with a loud, piercing scream, having experienced a nightmare that felt more real than anything she’s ever known.  

***

The scream comes just as the hour hand of Hermione’s quaint, muggle alarm clock strikes six. 

Hermione stumbles out of bed and fumbles for her wand, pushing wiry locks of brown hair out of her face and blinking away the sleep from her eyes. Her heart is pounding, adrenaline coursing through her. She almost feels dizzy from it. 

More screams ring through the dormitory, issuing from behind the drawn curtains of (Y/N)’s four poster. Hermione hears Parvati and Lavender stir awake in their own beds, the curtains yanking open to reveal their sleepy expressions. Hermione rushes toward the (Y/N)’s bed, hastily tearing the curtains apart to reveal her terrified friend. 

The white linen sheets of her bed are kicked into a tangled heap at her feet as (Y/N) flails. She glistens in the morning light, beads of sweat coating her skin and drenching her sheets. Her eyes are wide and panicked, misty from unshed tears and her breath rattles in the back of her throat. 

Without hesitating, Hermione clambers onto the bed and drapes her arms around (Y/N)’s small, trembling form, holding her close. She can feel (Y/N)’s heart thumping in her chest, pounding against Hermione’s like a second heartbeat.  Hermione squeezes a little tighter. 

“It’s okay,” Hermione coos, “You’re safe.”  

“I-I-“ (Y/N) chokes out, swallowing thickly, “It was-it was right there...” 

“It was just a nightmare,” Hermione reassures, gently, fingers trailing down the knobs of (Y/N)’s spine, “You’re okay.” 

(Y/N) exhales a shaky breath, a sob forming in the back of her throat. She swallows it and steadies her trembling voice. 

“A-a nightmare,” she finally whimpers, voice tight and small like a child’s, “Just a nightmare.” 

“That’s right, just a nightmare.” 

Through her peripherals, Hermione spots Lavender and Parvati peeking through the crack in the curtains, expressions riddled with questioning concern. Hermione dismisses then with a shake of her head and the curtains draw once again, soft footsteps disappearing to the other side of the room.

“What—What was it about?” Hermione asks, slowly, hesitantly, watching (Y/N) carefully. 

There’s a long, eerie silence. Hermione doesn’t think (Y/N) will respond, and just as she’s about to give up and go back to sleep, (Y/N) sighs, “There was this huge...shadow monster with these-these long claws and huge teeth and—and scratched something into the mirror.” 

“What was it?” 

(Y/N) exhales a shaky breath “The truth will set me free...” 

Hermione frowns, bites her lip. She’s heard that before, though she’s not sure where. 

“What else happened in your nightmare?” 

(Y/N) sniffles, “It was...peculiar. Like a dream within a dream...” 

“Go on.” 

“Well...In my nightmare, I had just woken up from a different nightmare. I don’t really remember but it felt so real!” 

(Y/N)’s voice wavers, her bottom lip trembling. Hermione can tell that she doesn’t want to be alone, and after what she’s just heard, Hermione doesn’t blame her. 

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Hermione whispers into (Y/N)’s hair. She feels (Y/N) nod, tears soaking through the thin cotton of Hermione’s pyjamas. 

Hermione settles into the bed beside (Y/N). (Y/N) wraps her arms around Hermione’s waist in a desperate hug that feels as though she’s clinging to her for safety, for reassurance, for comfort. Like she’s drowning in an ocean without a shore, waves crashing over her and pushing her further to their murky depths. 

Together, they lie in (Y/N)’s bed, staring up at the ceiling. Raw sobs and sharp knots of air tangle in the back of (Y/N)’s throat. 

“Breathe,” Hermione whispers, soothingly, “Just breathe.” 

Eventually, (Y/N)’s stuttered breathing smooths and shallows, her long lashes drooping closed. Tears stain (Y/N)’s flushed cheeks and she still trembles from fear, but at least she’s asleep.  

Hermione stays by her side, lying awake, watching her with a mixture of worry and curiosity, wondering with a tiny prick of envy how someone could look so pretty when they sleep. 

***

Ron — to his eternal frustration — is not as oblivious as everyone thinks. 

He notices things. Important things. Sometimes obvious things. He’s noticed things before other people have (except for Hermione because, lets face it, she’s a bloody nerd). He notices (Y/N) –– though, admittedly, everyone does, and he’d have to be half troll to not notice her. This morning, he notices something different about her, something that blurs the line between excitement and unease. 

In earnest, Ron doesn’t notice anything peculiar about her at first. When he enters the common room from his dorm, she’s cradling Nightshade and mingling with some of her sixth-year friends. He can tell she’s tired, though almost everyone is feeling sleepy from the previous nights festivities, including himself. 

(Y/N) spots him almost immediately and waves goodbye to her friends, practically bounding toward Ron. She flashes a dazzling smile, displaying a perfectly straight row of gleaming teeth, but there’s something about it that seems a little...forced. 

“Morning,” she greets, and Ron reaches out to pat the messy bun she had tied on the top of her head. She smiles broadly. 

“Sleep well?” Ron asks and (Y/N) sighs. 

“No...not at all.”

“Been dreaming of Cedric Diggory all night, eh?” 

(Y/N) rolls her eyes, cutting Ron’s snickering off with a well-aimed punch to his shoulder. 

“Oh shut up...” she snaps, though her cheeks are pink and the corners of her lips hedge on a smile. 

Ron casts a look over her shoulder, watching the group of sixth years she had been talking to. 

“How do you have so many friends?” Ron asks, eyes meeting hers again. 

She shrugs, “Mainly through that thing called — now, what’s it called now? — social interaction.” 

“Huh. Isn’t it annoying?” 

“Not really,” (Y/N) answers, “They’re not like my best friends or anything. I’ve only got three best friends...” 

“Don’t you mean four?” Jokes a familiar voice from behind Ron. 

Ron doesn’t need to turn around to know that his two older brothers, Fred and George, are standing behind him. He exhales heavily, glancing over his shoulder just in time to catch George slap Fred behind the head. 

“Who taught you to count?” George snips as he watches Fred rub the back of his head soothingly. 

“You don’t count,” Fred explains, “You’re more of (Y/N)’s boyfriend than ‘best friend.’” 

Fred winks at (Y/N). 

George’s cheeks glow red. 

“Didn’t you hear?” Ron chimes in, “(Y/N) is already taken.” 

“Thanks, Ronald,” (Y/N) snaps sardonically, narrowing her eyes on him, “I’m relieved to know my privacy is of your utmost concern.” 

Ron throws (Y/N) a disbelieving look, “It’s Hogwarts, (Y/N). Nothing stays secret for long.” 

(Y/N) snorts, just as Nightshade begins to stir from her doze. She squirms in (Y/N) arms and she gently placed her cat on the floor. 

“Looks like George’s old sweater has found a new home,” Ron nods at her sweater, “Are you sure that’s hygienic?” 

Ron has to bite back a laugh. It’s almost comical, the way she swims in George’s sweater, so much so she’s had to tuck the excess fabric into the hem of her tennis skirt. He has to admit, she does wear the it well, though he can’t figure out why anyone would want to wear such a monstrosity of a sweater in the first place

George rolls his eyes, “I think now would be a good time to reflect on the memory of Ron projectile vomiting slugs in his second year.”

(Y/N) cringes, “Please don’t. I’ve been trying to erase that memory from my mind for the past two years.”

“Didn’t you nearly catch one, (Y/N)?” Fred smirks. 

“Anyway,” Ron snaps, glaring at Fred and George, “It looks better on you than it ever did on George.” 

(Y/N) throws her head back and laughs. Her eyes, though shadowed with fatigue, still seem to twinkle with amusement. 

Ron casts her a side-long glance. Maybe she is just tired. 

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Ronald.” 

The four of them head down for breakfast, talking about the previous night and laughing amongst themselves. The twins and (Y/N) do most of the laughing, mainly at Ron’s expense, but if that means he gets to cheer his best friend up then he doesn’t mind. He watches with a mixture of relief and joy as the apprehension begins to melt away from (Y/N), leaving her brimming with happiness. 

The twins — to Ron’s dismay — decide to sit with Ron and (Y/N) for breakfast, where they wrestle over who gets to sit next to (Y/N). She eventually points out that she can sit between them, though not without watching their pissing contest with amusement. Content with her suggestion, the twins finally settle, Fred a little more so than George, the latter of whom keeps throwing (Y/N) strange looks. 

Soon after, the four of them are joined by Hermione and Harry and they all settle in to enjoy their breakfast. To Ron’s relief, the twins decide to leave after breakfast and with bellies full of delicious food, the four of them return to the common room. 

“You must be starting a collection of stolen clothes,” Harry jokes, nodding at (Y/N)’s sweater, “You still haven’t given me my hoodie back.” 

(Y/N) bites her lip apologetically, “It’s so cozy though...” 

Harry’s lips tilt into a smirk, “You can have it, it was Dudley’s old hoodie anyway.” 

(Y/N) cringes and laughter erupts between the four of them, the unspoken tension lingering from last night melting from the warmth of each other’s company. When bubbles of laughter fade, Ron and Harry begin to fill them in on what they learned about Hagrid.  

“Well I thought he must be,” Hermione says once Ron finishes, shrugging nonchalantly, “I knew he couldn’t be pure giant, because they’re about twenty feet tall. But honestly, all this hysteria about giants. They can’t all be horrible.” 

Ron blinks at Hermione, biting back several scathing comments. Is she bonkers? He always knew that she wasn’t completely sane, but now it almost seemed as though she were deliberately talking crazy to egg Ron on. 

“And what do you think about this, (Y/N)?” Ron sighs, rubbing his forehead to keep himself from starting another argument with Hermione. 

(Y/N) shrugs, leaning back in her chair and crossing one leg over the other. The hem of her skirt slides up a little, giving him a glimpse of smooth skin beneath the fabric of her stockings. Ron can’t help but notice the way Harry’s cheeks flush and he has to swallow down the urge to tease Harry. 

“Hermione and I figured it out almost straight away,” she says, matter-of-fairly, “Why is it such a big deal? We know Hagrid isn’t like other giants so why should everyone care that he’s a––“

Ron cuts (Y/N) off with a sharp ‘shush’, glancing around to make sure no one heard. 

“Keep your voice down,” Ron hisses, “We might know Hagrid’s a You-know-what but no one else does. He could lose his job!” 

(Y/N) rolls her eyes, “I’m going to make sure he’s okay,” she says, climbing out of her armchair and flattening the fabric of her skirt, “He’s probably a bit hurt from what happened last night.” 

“You’re right,” Hermione says, narrowing her eyes on Harry, “Harry should go with you.” 

Harry’s mouth drops open but Hermione gives him a stern, pointed look that withers any argument Harry or Ron could muster up. 

“Okay,” (Y/N) shrugs, flashing a brief smile at Harry, “I’ll go and get my cloak. It’s bloody freezing out there.” 

When (Y/N) is safely out of range, Harry rounds on Hermione. 

“What was that all about?” He snaps. 

Hermione leans forward, glancing around the room conspicuously, “(Y/N) had a terrible nightmare last night. She woke up screaming and absolutely terrified. Honestly, if you had seen her...” she cuts herself off with a sharp sigh, “Going with her to see Hagrid night help her open up a little and maybe you can tell her how you feel.” 

“I already did that!” Harry grumbles, bitterly, “And she said she loved me as a friend!” 

Hermione snaps the book in her hands shut with such ferocity, she startles the sleepy Crookshanks curled up on her lap, “Well who’s fault was that?” 

“—Alright, I’m ready.” 

The three of them jump. 

Swivelling around, Ron forces a smile he hopes looks convincing. (Y/N) arches a brow suspiciously, though to her credit, she doesn’t ask. 

“Ready to go?” (Y/N) asks Harry, and Ron spots the way her fingers twitch around her mothers bracelet. 

Harry jumps to his feet, mumbling an uneasy ‘yeah’ and the two of them set off, stepping through the portrait hole. Despite himself, Ron can’t help wondering what the bloody hell is going on. 

****

Harry is — well...

Nervous doesn’t quite fit it. 

He’s certainly uneasy, for reasons obvious to seemingly everyone around him except for the one person who matters, whose always mattered, even when he didn’t realise it. He wonders whether that’s because of she’s blinded by Cedric or if it’s because of something Harry has said or done. 

He claws awkwardly at the nape of his neck, clearing his throat every now and again as though he’s trying to gulp down that swirling, heated pool of feelings currently trying to climb its way up his throat. 

“Frog in your throat?” 

Harry tries his best not to jump. He was so deep in his own thoughts and feelings, he had temporarily forgotten where he was. 

(Y/N) stares at him expectantly and Harry sighs. 

“Not quite.” 

He clears his throat on impulse, and the corner of (Y/N)’s lips twitch.

“Still sulky about last night, then?” 

Harry’s jaw slackens. 

“What—? I wasn’t — I mean — I was never —?” 

“Parvati told me all about it,” (Y/N) interjects, a smile teasing her (perfect) lips  “Are you feeling better this morning?” 

Harry drags a hand through his hair, grazing his nails over his scalp to stave the prickle sprawling beneath his hair. 

“Yeah...though to be honest, Ron was more upset than me.” 

(Y/N) snorts, “Yeah he was, wasn’t he?” 

“I’m just glad he and Hermione have agreed to disagree.” 

“I think that’s the basis of their friendship.” 

Harry chuckles, giving her a sidelong glance, “Where did you end up disappearing to last night anyway?” 

Guilt briefly crosses over (Y/N)’s face, shadowing the light in her eyes and accentuating the dark circles beneath them. 

“I was...I was looking for my brother...” (Y/N) says, so softly he barely manages to catch the hitch in her voice. 

“Is he okay?” 

(Y/N) bites her lip, hesitating, “No...not really...” 

Harry waits for her to elaborate. 

She doesn’t. 

He wisely decides to let it slide. 

“Listen, I’m sorry I ditched you last night,” (Y/N) mumbles, “I didn’t mean to. I guess I was just annoyed at Ron, you know?” 

Harry nods in understanding, “At least you made sure Hermione was okay.” 

(Y/N) nods and sighs, looping her arm through his, “You’re both assholes, you know.” 

Harry laughs. He’s missed her more than he originally realised. He can’t remember ever feeling this relaxed with her since...well since last year. The unease he’d felt entering the conversation has drained away, leaving him warm and content in (Y/N)’s company as they stroll through the castle, approaching Hagrid’s hut at a leisurely rate. 

When they make it to Hagrid’s door, Fang gives a couple of raspy barks until he catches their scent and he hears the heavy thump of his tail against the door. A long, groaning noise issues from the other side of the door, like someone choking the engine of an old, rusty motorbike. 

Harry shares a worried look with (Y/N). 

He knocks. 

No answer. 

“Huh,” (Y/N) frowns, “Lets try again. Maybe — maybe he didn’t hear —?” 

“—Didn’t hear Fang?” Harry asks, stepping away from the door. Another long peal of that strange groaning noise echoes through Hagrids hut. Harry frowns, “And what is that weird noise?” 

Harry creeps around the side of the hut, peering in through the window. A hazy sheen of fog covers the glass, but through it he can just make out the sleeping form of Hagrid collapsed on his bed, one giant hand on his stomach while the other clutches an empty bottle. 

Harry laughs, “He’s passed out drunk!” 

(Y/N) rushes to his side, reaching up on the tips of her toes to stare into the window. 

“So he is,” she giggles. 

“Best leave him to it, eh?” 

(Y/N) nods, grinning at Harry. 

The two of them make their way toward the castle, laughing. 

“I should brew him a hangover potion,” chortles (Y/N), “Something tells me he’s going to need it.” 

Just as they reach the courtyard, a familiar voice rings through the air. 

“(Y/N)!” 

Harry’s stomach curls into a swampy knot, resentment climbing up the back of his throat. He clenches his jaw shut, grinding his molars as he and (Y/N) turn around. 

“Cedric!” she beams as he jogs toward her. 

Harry stares as his arms wrap around her waist, embracing her in a hug. Watching them sours the good mood (Y/N) put him in. 

When they break apart, Cedric laces their fingers together, beaming broadly at Harry, “Heya Harry. Suppose you heard the news about (Y/N) and I...” 

Harry nods curtly, “I heard.” 

(Y/N)’s teeth clamp down on her bottom lip, glancing uneasily at Harry. 

“We were just on our way back from Hagrids,” (Y/N) says, gazing lovingly up at Cedric, “He’s — er — still asleep. Had a long night I suppose.” 

“I think we all did,” Cedric says, giving (Y/N) a look Harry does not like at all. A delicate, spring-pink blush spreads across (Y/N)’s cheeks. 

It’s grating. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry snaps. 

Cedric smiles sheepishly. 

(Y/N)’s blush deepens. 

“Anyway,” Cedric continues, “I hope you don’t mind if I steal (Y/N) for a moment? There is something quite important that I need to talk to (Y/N) about.”

Harry does mind. Very much so. But he can’t make a scene, so he bites back several sarcastic remarks and nods his head, “Sure.” 

Cedric beams, “Well, see you around then.” 

Harry sincerely hopes he doesn’t see Cedric around. 

“I’ll meet you back at the common room,” (Y/N) says, giving Harry one of those lovely, reassuring smiles. Harry, though, is too bitter to fully appreciate it, and the fact that he can’t appreciate it only makes him more angry with Cedric. 

“Yeah.”

With that, Harry wheels around and leaves, the remainders of his good mood tarnished by Hogwarts favourite champion. 

****

Cedric used to be a patient person. 

He’s been told by many that it’s one of his defining qualities, that he’s patient with people in the same way that they imagine Helga Hufflepuff being. Cedrics always thought that comparing him with Helga Hufflepuff is an exaggeration to say the least, but since he’s met (Y/N), he’s begun to realise just how patient he used to be. 

‘Used to’ being the operative term here. 

Because since meeting (Y/N), he has been the most impatient, the most selfish, greedy fool he’s ever known, an idiot in love who has completely surrendered himself to her charms. He can barely wait to be with her and when he’s with her, he’s found that he only wants more — more of her. 

“What is it?” She asks when they reach the Hufflepuff common room, concern creeping into her words. 

Cedric hesitates, chewing his bottom lip. He really doesn’t have anything romantic planned like their previous dates. He’s just a desperate man trying to soak up as much warmth a woman like (Y/N) emits. 

The common room door hisses and slides open, inviting them into the cozy warmth of the room. Cedric leads her inside, checking to see if anyone is there. It’s completely empty. Everyone is out enjoying the snow. 

Thank God. 

“Wow!” (Y/N) exclaims, gazing at the tree in the centre of the room, “That’s incredible! I wish our common room had a tree in the middle of our—“ 

“Do you trust me?” Cedric cuts her off, glancing at her lips. (Y/N) nods slowly, curiously, though there’s a glint in her eyes that tells him she knows what’s about to happen. 

Cedric kisses her. 

She’s surprised at first, taken aback by the ferocity of the kiss, and he worries for one dreadful moment that he overstepped his boundaries. But then she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him closer, her movements swift and desperate and Cedric sighs into the kiss, tongue sliding over her bottom lip. 

Relieved and emboldened, Cedric presses her against the wall, hands roaming up and down her sides, relishing in the warmth that hums beneath his touch. Guttural moans rumble at the back of his throat as his brain melts to slosh in his skull, swimming with intoxicating amounts of dopamine and serotonin. 

“Is this the important matter you so desperately wanted to discuss?” She rasps when they finally break apart, lips red and swollen. She gasps when Cedric’s lips drag across her jugular, teeth scraping over her thumping pulse. She shudders in response, lolling her head back to grant him more access to her neck. 

“I hope you’re not too mad,” He murmurs, breath hot against her skin, “Though something tells me you’re not.” 

She whimpers when he kisses her collarbone, arching up into him, “Oh I’m totally furious.” 

“I’ll have to make it up to you.” 

“I’m not so easy to please.” 

His lips travel up the curve of her neck, gliding across her jaw, until his eyes meet hers. They’re blown wide with what Cedric’s horny, caveman hindbrain recognises as lust; syrupy warm and obsidian dark. Those eyes of hers could paralyse even the strongest of men and turn sinners into beggars. 

She’s going to be the death of him. 

Licking his lips, he leans in close, gazing into her eyes, his voice a mere whisper. 

“I’m counting on it.” 

Their lips collide. 

All he’s been able to think about is this very moment. Since the moment he met her almost a year ago, all he’s wanted to do is drag her into the closest broom closet and kiss her senseless. That desire, matched with an healthy dose of love and adoration, has gradually filled up until it overflowed, drowning him in absolute yearning. 

He’s brought back to earth by a tug on his belt, and Cedric realises her nimble fingers are fumbling around it, blindly trying to strip it from his pants. 

Cedric leaps back.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, frowning. 

Cedric licks his lips and swallows, “I’m not sure you’re ready for—for that...” 

(Y/N) reaches out to him, hooking her fingers into his belt and tugging him forward. She reaches up into her toes and whispers into his ear. 

“I’m ready, Cedric. I want you.” 

Cedric swallows, blood heading straight to the region beneath his belt. His resolve is rapidly dissolving and it takes every ounce of his willpower to step away from her.

“Are you sure, though?” He asks in a soft, reassuring voice, “We’ve only just made our relationship official. We don’t have to rush things...” 

(Y/N) peers up at him through doe-like eyes, lashes fluttering as a cute, little frown forms. 

“Do you—do you not want this? Want me?” 

Cedric bleats a laugh on impulse.

“Merlin, (Y/N)...” Cedric drapes his hands over hers, ducking his chin to catch her gaze, “All I think about is you. You’ve completely consumed me. And you know what? I don’t even care.” 

(Y/N) smiles bashfully, her teeth catching her bottom lip. Cedric gives her hands a gentle squeeze. 

“All I want is for you to feel comfortable,” Cedric says, softly, “You’re only fourteen (Y/N). Pushing you into a situation you don’t want to be in before you’re ready will hurt you. And the last thing I want to do is hurt you because—“ 

I love you

Cedric catches himself. He licks his lips and swallows, “—I care about you.” 

(Y/N) almost looks relieved. She clearly wasn’t as ready as she thought she was. 

“I care about you, too,” she murmurs, reaching up to kiss him. 

Eventually, Cedric manages to break away long enough to show her the common room. They take full advantage of the solitude; kissing languidly whenever they get the chance, as though their kisses are oxygen in a vacuum. 

They barely manage to stumble into his bedroom and collapse on his bed, giggling between kisses. Time seems to slow to a stop whenever he’s around her, whether they’re making out or chatting. All Cedric knows is her, his anchor that keeps him tethered to reality, that stops him drifting into space. 

Cedric wasn’t lying when he said she had completely consumed him. He doesn’t think there is a single cell in his body that doesn’t belong to her. It sounds cliche but it’s true. 

Together on his bed, the two of them drift off into a dreamless sleep, warm and comfortable, oblivious to fates cruel, cold plans. 

***

Luke wakes with a start.

He groans. His head feels like a small, rabies-infected rodent scratched away at his brain. His stomach feels like the rodent curled up and died inside it. 

Blinking blearily, Luke glances around the room. 

He’s in a cellar, surrounded by shelves of fire whiskey and butterbeer. He scratches the back of his head. How the fuck did he end up in the basement of the Three Broomsticks. 

A chill breeze sweeps through the basement, prickling his skin. With a shock, Luke realises he’s completely naked. Fleurs body is warm and soft beside him; her head resting on his chest, her hair splayed out like a silver halo against his skin. She’s equally naked, which is not a particular thought Luke really needs to process right now; his erection is already poking into her thigh and he can feel the round smoothness of her breasts as her chest rises and falls with her shallow breathing. 

Luke carefully manoeuvres Fleur off his chest, stuffing his pitiful excuse of a pillow under her head. 

He has to find his clothes. 

Climbing to his feet, he steadies himself on a bench, cradling his head in a large hand. His eyes snag on his pants and he dashes toward it, wincing at the obnoxious ache throbbing between his temples. 

As he pulls on his pants, snippets of the previous night return to him; the Durmstrang ship, inhaling the Nyx’s blood, getting blind drunk, stumbling around in the snow, having sex in the Beauxbatons carriage, in the prefects bathroom and the Black Lake and in the Three Broomstick’s cellar...

Luke’s heart sinks. 

(Y/N)’s face floats across the jigsaw puzzle of memories forming in his mind. She saw him. She knows...

“You look like a bloody mess,” says a cold, sniffy voice from over Luke’s shoulder. Luke turns, spotting a well-dressed boy no older than eighteen sitting on an armchair. His thin lips are pinched, his expression sharp and his eyes narrowed on Luke in disdain. 

“Who are you?” Luke croaks, squinting at the boy. He’s not sure if it’s the hangover or the lighting but he doesn’t recognise the intruder. His crisp Posh accent tells Luke that he can’t be from Durmstrang or Beauxbatons. 

“Doesn’t matter who I am,” the boy waves his hand at Luke, as though dismissing him, “I’m after your sister.” 

“A lot of boys are after my sister,” Luke snaps. Within the span of three minutes, this fucker has proved to be a condescending, arrogant bastard, “And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from her.” 

The twat rolls his eyes like a little bitch, “Or What? You’ll kill me? I’m afraid you’ll find you can’t kill me.” 

A stabbing pain slices down Luke’s skull. Something about this guy reminds Luke of his father. The likeness leaves a sour taste in Luke’s mouth. He curls his fingers into fists, grinding his jaw. 

“I may not be able to kill you,” Luke growls, stepping closer to the stranger, “But I can make you wish you were dead.” 

“Says the half-naked, hungover imbecile who doesn’t even remember how he got here...” the dense motherfucker has the audacity to scoff, climbing to his dumb feet, “I’ll find her myself.” 

“Don’t you dare go near her!” Luke snarls, advancing on the stranger, “I swear to Merlin I will destroy you!”

The stranger barks a cold, mirthless laugh. The more Luke stares at the stranger, the more he’s reminded of his human-stain of a father. The resemblance is uncanny. 

The stranger’s expression flickers, anger contorting the handsome features of his face, “You wouldn’t know anything about destruction! You’re just a boy drowning himself in toxins instead of being a man and making a choice! You’re sister is better off without you!”

Luke swallows thickly, the strangers words creating a deep, hollow fissure in his chest. 

“Who are you talking to?” Asks a husky voice from behind, accented with crisp and elegant French. Fleur is awake and swimming in his dress shirt. Luke blinks, glancing back over his shoulder at the stranger. He’s gone. 

Was that entire conversation real? Or is the Nyx’s blood still lingering in his system. Luke turns to Fleur, forcing a smile. 

“No one,” Luke says, hands sliding into his pocket. His fingers twitch around the vial of Nyx’s blood sitting like an anchor in his pocket. He retrieves it, shaking the vial in front of him, “Want some breakfast?” 

“Don’t you think it’s a little early?” Fleur asks, walking toward him. She sinks to her knees, her perfect teeth digging into her bottom lip. She peers up at him through a row of long, thick rashes as she purrs “Besides, there are other ways to make you forget...” 

Luke stares down at her, watching as she tugs on the zipper of his pants. He lowers his hand, cupping her cheek, the pad of his thumb stroking her cheek bone. He guides her up onto her feet.

“You don’t have to do that for me...” 

“You don’t mean that,” she says, eyes not quite meeting his. She slides her tongue across her bottom lip. 

Carnal desire flares inside of him, jolting straight to his crotch. His hand slides down her face, fingers curling around her throat. 

“What if I do?” 

“Then you’re a liar,” Fleur says, her fingers reaching into his pants. He groans and she flashes a wicked grin, “A dirty, sexy liar...” 

A strange, almost toxic combination of desire and anger simmers in Luke’s veins. A sudden burst of possessiveness pulses through and he slides his hand from her throat to her waist, picking her up and planting her on the bench. 

Fleur delighted laughter tapers into a moan when Luke wraps a tight and slightly assertive grip around her neck with one hand. With the other, Luke pops the lid off the vial and inhale the glittering smoke that curls in the air. The chemical mixture travels straight to his head, curling around his brain. The pressure in his head seems to drain, healing his pounding migraine. 

Luke’s head is already swimming when he offers her the vial, and when she takes it, he drops to his knees, nudging her legs apart so he can kneel between them. He licks a white hot trail up her inner thigh, smirking smugly when he hears her gasp. 

The empty vial falls to the ground with a loud clang. 

Fleur wiggles forward. 

Luke chuckles, exhaling against her skin and breathing in her scent, “Oh how the tables have turned...”

“If you’re going to do something, do it quick,” Fleur taunts, he can hear the smirk in her voice, “Unless you’ve forgotten...”

“Oh yeah?” Luke leans forward, teasing her with his tongue, “How bad do you want it, Delacour?” 

Fleur is panting above him, “My guess? As bad as you do.” 

Luke’s heart races, head swimming in a hazy delirium. 

He dives forward. 

The stranger is already a distant memory, buried in the deepest, darkest crevices of Luke’s haunted mind. He’s never been so happy to forget. 

***

@marauderskeeper @weaselby418 @acciorinn @hervench@depressed-octopods-art @steph-fowlie @lilulo-12@randomfangirl117 @asofslytherin @seunlight@thebesteleganttrashyouseen @elsie2018@polkadotfairyposts @hylianhighlander @dracosdoves@siriuswitches @bernadineisreborn @lousimusician@randomoutsiders @smolldork @danidomm@xrosegoldwolfx @ashkuuuu @sly-vixen-up2nogood@tchalland @lucifersnipnips @notorious-fiction@peppermintspecks @sleep-i-ness @reducto-bitch @who-said @mhftrs @whimsicalangels1234 @kneekoteen  @steve-thotgers @qrangr @valiantlynervouschaos @klaudia-deer @bennie-badeend @gryffinclxw @steph-fowlie @acciorinn@fallern618 @alyenaaa @dammit-scamander @kararanae23@myhopeisinfinite @blaised-zabini @poppykoke@swansong321

[blueberryrock]

Here is the Prologue to my newest story! It's not a fanfic, it is an original story im writing! I hope y'all like it!

(Also I might change the name in the future)

"Momma" a small five-year-old girl with long brown hair tugs on the bottom of her tired mom's pants "when will daddy come home?" Her big bright brown eyes meet her mom's dull brown eyes.

The tired mom glances at her watch, which reads nine pm. She pulls a curtain back from the window in front of her and sighs "any minute".

She turns her head to look at the little girl "Why don't you go put your jammies on, grab your sister, and we'll play a little game" she warmly smiles. The little girl squeals and runs to her room.

The mom smiles as she runs down the long hallway, she glances back outside to the empty street. "C'mon Rick, where are you" she mutters. She fiddles with her gold wedding ring that has a single, gorgeous, red jewel on it. A "blood-red diamond" as her gemologist cousin calls it.

"Mom, please tell Karlene that I don't want to play some stupid game" The five-year-old, Karlene's, older sister complains. She tucks a strand of her long dirty blonde hair behind her ear.

"Now Sierra, you promised to play a game with her earlier, and as soon as your dad returns from work. You can go back to your room" Sierra's mom finally turns away from the window.

"Ugh, fine, but just one round" Sierra huffs "what game are we playing anyway."

"Cops and robbers!" Shrieks Karlene.

"No. No way am I going to play that stupid game" Sierra angrily crosses her arms.

"How bout a card game?" Their mom suggests.

"Ooh let's play gold fish!" Karlene happily said.

"Sounds good to me" Sierra finally agrees "and it's Go Fish."

"I'll grab a deck of cards, you two clear off the coffee table" their mom dashes out of the room to look for a deck.

"Where do you think dad's at," Sierra asked her little sister as she moves a stack of paper to the ground.

"Maybe he's fighting super villains!" Karlene enthusiastically hits a remote on the ground "oops" she mutters to herself.

Sierra can't help but giggle at her little sister's sheer happiness. "He could be" Sierra puts the last object onto the lower level of the coffee table.

"Really?" Karlene squeals.

Sierra smiles and messes with Karlene's crazy brown hair, she looks around and gets ear level with her sister. "You know dad does have superpowers" Sierra whispers and smirks.

Karlene's blue eyes go wide and her jaw drops "No. Way." Sierra only grins "umm, yes way, he told me"

And as soon as Sierra said that, the girl's mom walks into the large living room, hold a bowl of pretzels, and a deck of black cards.

Before she can set anything down, Karlene leaps to her feet and runs at her mom. "Does daddy really have powers?" She asks excitedly, bouncing up and down.

"Ah, well, I wanted to wait till you were older" their mom sends an upset glare at Sierra, which she ducks behind the glass coffee table.

Their mom walks around the bouncing Karlene and sets the bowl and deck on the table. "But yes, your father has...er..powers"

And at that Karlene lets out the loudest squeal on the planet. "Do you think he can show me his?" Karlene runs up to Sierra.

Sierra only shrugs "don't ask me," she says

Karlene then turns to her tired mom "do you think I'll have powers?" She jumps up and down on the carpet.

"Well, there is about a fifty-fifty chance of you two to get them, but let's play our card game" she pulls Karlene by the hand to sit "please? And once your father comes home, you can berate him with any and all questions"

Karlene grins again. "So six cards?" Their mom asks as she deals out five cards to everyone.

"I'm pretty sure it's seven" Sierra corrects her. They continue to play round after round until the big, old, grandfather clock strikes twelve.

Karlene is passed out in her room while Sierra is reading and her mom is currently pacing back and forth in front of the door.

"Mom" Sierra puts her large book down, "I'm sure dad's fine, he's probably just held up somewhere" her mom stops pacing and shoots her a worried glance.

"Oh, umm, I meant in...like...traffic or something" Sierra quickly corrects herself. But her mom continues to pace.

"But he's never been this late" Sierra's mom throws herself on the nearest piece of furniture, which was a very comfortable armchair.

"I'm sure he's fi–" Sierra cuts herself off with a big yawn "ine" she rubs her eyes.

"You should go to bed, he'll (hopefully) be back here tomorrow" Sierra's mom gets up to plant a kiss on her daughter's forehead.

"R-right" Sierra picks up her book and walks down the hallway to her room. As soon as her door closes, Sierra's mom pulls out her phone to dial her husband's phone.

But on the second to last ring, a sobbing woman picks up. "R-Rose," she sobbing woman says "h-he's go-o-one"

"What! Tina calm down, who's gone?" Rose calmly asks. "R-ri-ick" Tina barely finishes.

The phone nearly slips out of her hand, Rose slides into one of the chairs and readjusts the phone. "M-my Rick?" Is all that she can muster.

Rose slides from the chair to the hardwood floor. "N-no!" She sobs "i-it ca-a-an't be t-r-r-rue." Rose drops her phone and continues to sob hysterically.

After maybe a few minutes or a few hours, Rose's sobs turn into loud whimpers. She shakily picks up her phone, Tina has hung up ages ago.

She tiredly wipes her eyes and looks at the time, one and a half hours have passed. That means she spent one and a half hours sobbing when she wanted to be with her husband.

She shakily pushes herself to her feet. Waves of nausea washes over her as she sits back into the armchair. She decides that she is too tired to walk down the same hallway her girls went.

She instead pulls her knees as close as she can into her chest and wraps her arms around them. She lays her head on them and looks around them empty room.

Memories of her family come flooding in, she glances at the coffee table she and the girls were at, and a memory of them with their dad play a board game makes her smile as more tears form.

She continues to softly cry as she remembers the last time she spoke to her husband. It was before he had to leave for his job.

They were talking about his they were planning on taking their girls out of the country for a vacation. But that idea is now long gone.

Rose continues to softly cry until she falls asleep. She dreams about talking to her husband in a little cafe.

She is rudely awakened by her youngest daughter. "Mommy" she happily says. Rose's bloodshot eyes meet her daughter's beautiful brown eyes.

"Yes, sweetheart?" She croaks, her throat begging for any water.

"Where is daddy?" Karlene asks with a small grin. Tears form in Rose's eyes as the thoughts of last night come flooding back. Perhaps it was a dream?

No. Rose couldn't remember a dream to save her life. "Y-your d-dad's g" she stops herself as her oldest daughter tiredly walks into the room.

She yawns "Karlene, let mom wake up first" Sierra rubs her tired eyes and unceremoniously throws herself onto the couch next to them.

Rose wipes her eyes and sits up straight. "G-girls" she announces "I have something very important to tell you about your father." Both girls sit down and pay attention.

"Your father...he's..." Rose sighs, she takes a deep breath in "he's gone"

"W-what do you mean gone?" Sierra asks.

"I mean your dad is gone, dead, he was...I believe that he was murdered" tears form in her and Sierra's eyes.

Rose looks down at Karlene, half expecting her to be full-on crying and half expecting her to be confused.

But she is the later one. "Daddy isn't coming here?" She furrows her brows as she tries to think "did he leave us?" She looks up at her now crying mom.

"Yes, he left us" she tries to explain, but Karlene starts sobbing "d-di-d he n-not l-o-ove u-s" she cries.

"Oh no baby" her mom says, she gently scoops her up and sits onto the couch next to the sobbing Sierra. "He love-ed us w-with all h-h-is heart" Rose tries not to cry, but she's failing miserably.

"W-will I-I get t-to see h-hi-m aga-ain?" Karlene wails. "Of c-course" Rose reassures her wailing daughter " y-you'll s-see hi-m aga-ain" Rose chokes on a sob.

BANG. BANG. BANG. Rose unwraps her arms that are around Karlene and sets her gently where she was sitting. She quickly walks towards the large dark oak front door. Rose takes a deep breath in, wipes her tears away, and opens the door.

"Hello, Ms. Winster." A tall police officer says in his deep voice. He nervously shifts on his feet. "My name is Dean Sanchez" he holds up his police badge, "and this" he points to his partner. His partner is slightly smaller, with blonde hair and brown eyes. "Is my partner."

"James Riddle" he introduces himself. He politely holds out his hand and shakes Rose's cold hand.

"We've umm...come here to inform you that your husband has be-" Sanchez tries to say but Riddle jabs him in the side.

Rose raises one of her eyebrows "has been what?" She asks, already knowing the answer.

"He's dead," Riddle says bluntly. "James! Be sensitive" Sanchez says. After hours of crying, more tears stream down Rose's face.

"H-how d-id it hap-pen" she sobs.

"We don't really know, it could've been an accident or a murder. We're still looking into it" Riddle explains "but we'll update you on any new information we get."

"O-okay" she sputters out. Sanchez pulls out a tissue from his vest and hands it to Rose. She says a quiet thank you and blows her nose.

The policemen bow their heads and start to walk away. Rose slowly closes the door, leaving a crack to watch them, making sure they left.

Something was off about them, but Rose didn't care enough to question them. She crumbles up the used tissue and places it on the coffee table.

She looks at her two still crying daughters. "How 'bout we get some ice cream?" She offers.

Sierra sneezes and weakly says "okay". Karlene only nods, she does her red and wet face on her soft PJ shirt.

"Go get dressed then we'll leave" Rose calmly says. Both girls get up and head for their bedrooms "and brush your hair Karlene" she calls after the youngest.

Rose looks down at her owns clothes. Pj pants and a hoodie. She sighs and rubs her tired face, she heads for her own room to change.

After five minutes of staring at her husband's clothes, she finally meets the girls in the living room.

"You ready?" She sadly smiles at the girls. Sierra lets out a hiccup and puts her flip flops on. Rose looks at her youngest daughter "did you brush your hair?"

Karlene only nods. Rose sighs and grabs her black leather purse "alright lets go."

Well thanks for reading, I hope y'all like what I do with it annnnd yeah...Oh! Also, I won't be updating this every week as I did with my other fic, the updates will be random

[peppy-pilot]

//Well, that dream happened.

//So I fell asleep last night while @selfish-swine had a Gundam Unicorn clip plus some assorted other Youtube videos playing on the TV which might have had some affect but BOY HOWDY, I dreamt I was watching a high-quality production anime of Star Fox but it wasn't a happy one (far from it). Spoilers below due to graphic violence, blood, body horror, and death.

The anime itself has the quality of high-budget OVA, like. Around Gundam: The Origin high quality. Battle Begins looks great, but the anime I saw in my dream looked far more organic rather than with traceovers of the characters’ game models. Which means the expressions on the characters look far more natural, which always bothered me about BB. I emphasize this because the quality of the anime in my dream was what suckered me into believing it was real at the moment.... up until the very end and I thought "..........fuck, this is a dream, isn't it? Goddammit."

It was apparently around mid-season, at Katina. The layout and design resembled what Assault gave us, but, you know. Rendered competently. Everything was of dark colors and alarms and sirens everywhere. Despite this being on Katina, the plotline was N64 Fichina: Fox's team must disarm a bomb but fight off Star Wolf before they can do that. The thing is, apparently, Fox and his team are on foot while Wolf's is wrecking up shit in their Wolfens in Hunter form... except Pigma, whose Wolfen somehow managed to take up the shape of a Geara Zulu but much squatter and more Votoms-sized (so... a green Brutishdog??).

Apparently I caught up to this episode mid-airing, because it looks like the episode only had some 5-10 minutes until the end. As Wolf, Leon, Pigma, and Andrew fuck up the Katina base chasing after Fox, Falco, Peppy, and Slippy, Team Star Fox they end up separating into three different groups: Fox and Peppy each going solo, and Falco and Slippy trying to survive together. Along the way, Wolf, Leon, and Andrew lose sight of their targets and Falco and Slippy take advantage of this to find the bomb in the underground levels and disarm it. Meanwhile, Fox gets lost in the maze in the lower levels as Peppy and Pigma fight above ground outside of the base. And... this is where I felt like my brain wanted to war with my heart because HGGG.

On Fox's side, he finds himself in a hallway right by a secret lab with an indoor window whilst his comm line remains open so he can remain in contact with the rest of the Team (though Peppy is intermittently losing connection). The lab itself resembled a morgue, complete with chambers where bodies where held and an examination table. A simian scientist in a lab coat was there, who appeared similar as the Ruffian whom Star Fox spoke with upon approaching Sargasso in Assault, though with white hair. 

He spoke to Fox in the most chilling, dissonantly serene manner, greeting Fox as though he was expecting him. The dialogue was something along the lines of:

Scientist: Hello, Fox. I have been waiting for you. Fox: Were you now? Scientist: I have been expecting you to come pick up your father by now. Would you like to see him? I've fixed him right up. Fox: .....What?

The scientist would then open one of the chambers as Falco and Slippy, overhearing all this from the intercom, desperately calls out to Fox what the hell is going on. The scientist pulls out a bodybag and unzips it..... it's James. Complete with shades and the nick on his ear. Fox balks at the window, hesitating and shaking on the spot. All while the scientist presents the body in full gory detail.

Scientist: You don't believe it's your father? Come take a look yourself. He's very much dead. Would you like to see his eyes? I'd have to search his skull. I don't think I can unsew his mouth if you'd want me to. It was so hard putting his jaw back together.

Fox was just. Frozen on the spot. You can tell he was just contemplating shooting the scientist guy through the window for desecrating James' body like that.... until you hear from Slippy on the intercom:

Slippy: Fox!! Don't listen to him! Your dad should have been dead for five years! There is no way that could be him!!

Meanwhile, above ground, things are looking dire for Peppy. Peppy's Arwing was completely destroyed, and any attempts at requesting another one of something from the Great Fox are constantly interrupted. Finally, Pigma catches up to him, as debris fell on Peppy, keeping him pinned onto the ground and unable to escape. Pigma approaches Peppy and opens up his canopy, showing his face, and aims his gun at Peppy's face, taunting him one last time in person before he decides to kill him. Peppy braces himself for death.... and braces... and braces... nothing. He looks onto Pigma... he's hesitating from squeezing the trigger. Shaking. Almost crying. Peppy then tries to appeal to him, pleading him to not pull that trigger. Even reminding him of the last time they were here in Katina. And then a flashback.

James was leading Pigma and Peppy on a similar mission of disarming a bomb in Katina, and once more, they were on foot, dodging enemy fire. Pigma was assigned to do the disarming, all while James and Peppy were tasked to defend Pigma while he does his work. Just as it looked like the bomb would go off, they managed to succeed. They even celebrated, James, Peppy, and Pigma all cheering that they are still together, alive, and grateful they can trust each other. They got each other's back. As friends as well as colleagues.

Cut to the present. Peppy is still pleading with Pigma, and now both are crying. Wolf, meanwhile, orders Pigma to finish the mission, as the bomb is expected to go off any moment now. Slippy and Falco have failed to reach the bomb. The base is shaking, with the walls breaking down and electricity surging all over. Pigma could have just left Peppy there--he's pinned down anyway. Fox, Falco, and Slippy are nowhere to be seen. Peppy pleads to Pigma that they could run away from here together, forget about the past. Forget what happened. Rebuild their friendship. Look for a better future after the Wars. And forgive each other. Pigma then lowers himself in his seat, gritting his teeth, as he holds onto the controls of his mech as he lowers his gun....

Pigma: ... It's way past forgiveness now.

A gunshot within the shadows. And blood.

There was no sound. Everything seemed to slow down. Falco and Slippy run down the halls, trying to escape the base, and thankfully find Fox along the way. The scientist guy leaves the lab nonchalantly through a secret door within the morgue. Fox is frozen in disbelief as he heard Pigma's shot through the intercom. Did... Pigma kill Peppy? Time sped up and sound returned as normal as red lights flash everywhere and sirens scream into your ears. Fox, Falco, and Slippy managed to make it in time as fire broke out outside the base, their Arwings damaged but flyable. They make their way out into the flames to hop into their cockpits and escape...

Peppy's bullet-riddled body can be seen in the flames, pinned under the debris. He's not breathing.

Fox loses it. Just as the timer is running out, Falco and Slippy plead for Fox as he gets out of his cockpit, crying to Peppy as he rushes to the debris and try to pry it off him. The clock is ticking. Falco tells Fox to just leave Peppy: he's already dead. Fox doesn't care. We get very quick flashbacks of when Fox and Peppy knew each other back in the day. When Fox was a pup and Peppy attended his birthday party. When he scraped his knee and Peppy put a bandaid on it. When he was attending his mother's funeral with his Peppy and James comforting him in the rain. When Peppy arrived on Papetoon after escaping that fateful mission to Venom. All while Fox is trying to pull the rubble off Peppy, as though not caring if he gets caught in the explosion. Knowing full well they could just die right here, right now, Falco and Slippy leap out of their cockpits and help Fox remove the rubble, then aid him in bringing Peppy’s body into Fox’s cockpit as they barely make it off the base alive. The explosion’s blowback even knocks them out as they are exiting the atmosphere, and it seemed like forever until their ships make it out of orbit, on its way to the Great Fox.

The scene cuts quickly to the three just. Staring onto Peppy’s body while he laid on a cot in the dark. Slippy is clearly crying, Falco can’t even cognitively muster a response in grief. And Fox. He stares into space. Wondering why he fell for the scientist’s lies and came to Peppy’s aid when he had the chance.

And the episode ends there.

And I was just all “...WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?” So I looked the episode online, as of course there is a wikipedia page on it. Apparently this episode caused a lot of controversy in Japan, and in an interview with one of the head writers, he says that he decided with killing off Peppy in such a heartwrenching manner because 1.) He wanted to bring back the emotional gravitas of losing a wingman permanently as the original Star Fox had, and 2.) He REALLY hated how Peppy’s fakeout was written in, so the death scene and everything written around it was intended to be a “fix” to that. BAWWW.

So of course I tried to look for a followup to this episode, and found out, in a future episode, they actually return to the destroyed Katina base for... some reason or other. I think Fox wanted to find the scientist to see if he really knew what happened to James. Upon finding him, the graphics of the anime resembled closer to how Battle Begins looked (as in traceovers of game models), and Fox was able to lead Falco and Slippy into the remains of the lab. For... some strange reason, everything was starting to look like a Dead Space level, with meat moss everywhere and blood and such. Yeah.

The scientist was there and is all “...I found the secret to eternal life. Want to meet your father, Fox?~” And before Fox, Falco, and Slippy knew it, James (or the lookalike) comes in with a horde of Resident Evil-styled zombies. And then cut to black.

...Yeah, it was at that part where I thought “....this is just a fucking dream, isn’t it?” And indeed, I woke up to the TV still on and a video game review (?) being on, because apparently both Rob and I fell asleep before either of us could turn it off.

[canadian-buckbeaver]

In the Thralls of a Dream (Ch. 5 of A Bloody Mess)

Red has just told Fell about the mark that his father had - the one linking Gaster to the previous priest of this town. However, Fell demands more questions than Red has answers for, and storms off angrily. Leaving Red alone in his bed, his head full of thoughts and blood and gore...

TRIGGER WARNING: HEAVY GORE, BLOOD, CHARACTER REANIMATION (slightly) AND CHARACTER DEATH

ALSO: to the commenter who wanted less blood/gore in a vampire fanfic (I deleted your comment) - No... how does that even work? It says right in my tags that there is blood and gore and character death... please read the reblogs of Eli's amazing work and read the tags.

If you like what I do, please buy my a Ko-Fi or conisder becoming a patreon!

Red groaned, rubbing at his face.  He was all alone, back in the bedroom that he had first woke up in.  Mentally he felt exhausted, completely drained of life and energy.

How did so much happen in such little time?

First, he had woken up after his attempted murder and found himself changed to a thrall, now being owned by a vampire who likes to crossdress his new toys.  Very poor and inconsiderate choice of clothing too, Red had to add.  Where in the world where ruffles ever useful?  All they did was flutter around and get caught in your joints.

Secondly, the dream about his father?  Completely uncalled for.  He and his old man had never gotten along at the best of times, and coming up to his disappearance was no difference.  They knew exactly how to get on each other’s nerves, push each other’s buttons.  No, Red needed no reminder about Gaster.

Thirdly, the girl that was murdered.  The poor girl… as much as Fell as can sit there, shrug his broad shoulders and say the food is food, there was no reason… so much blood, so much destruction…

So much waste…

Fourth… and this was the one that really pissed him off.  Fell can sit there at the table describing the same mysterious tattoo that Gaster had (again, thank you universe for absolutely nothing), but the moment that Red says that he knows that his father had one similar, Fell wants to know everything.  Where did Gaster say he was going?  What did he do?  Did he know any of the codes or secret languages that he and the other members spoke?  Had he ever been introduced to these other members?  Descriptions?  Ages?  Occupation?  But the moment that Red says that he knows nothing, not the answer to the simplest question, Fell flips and shuts himself down.

Like, come on.  Is this not called a “Secret Society” for nothing?

So Fell had abandoned Red at the table to his disgusting meat while he stalked off and did whatever.

Red sighed and rolled over in the bed, burying his skull in the soft fabrics, covering himself with the thick blankets.  He didn’t know why the vampire’s obvious disappointment in him cut him so deeply.  Nor was he sure why, after everything that he had witnessed and the pathetic meal that he had just had, why he was still hungry… the meat was just completely unappetizing to him.  Perhaps something more like sushi would be better suited to his tastes?

Or perhaps the tender kiss of a soft vampire tongue, covered in warm human blood?

Red shivered slightly at the thought before shaking his head.  What on Asgore’s green earth was wrong with him?  Lately, his mind had been consumed with thoughts of the vampire lord.

He fell asleep, the yearning for blood drowning his dreams.

* * * *

The girl was alive again, but this time she was struggling in his arms.  Hands and arms weakly hit at him, trying to shake him off.  Her feet digging into the ground, trying to pull herself away from him.  Stupid bitch tried to fight him off.  Keep him from what was rightfully his.  Like she had anything to say in the matter.  She was walking alone in the dark castle, asking for it.  After all, who goes exploring at night?

Everyone knows that is when the demons come out to play.

Especially the dark, gothic castle that everyone knows is haunted by the damned and undead.

Yes, this human girl, looking for her so-called lover, she was a very special brand of stupid indeed.  She had thought that she and the boy would end up tangled in each other’s arms, blissfully unaware of the harsh realities of this cruel, cruel world.  How absolutely pathetic.  How dense did one have to be to assume that someone would risk their own neck for a few minutes of soiled pleasure?  She deserved to die.  To feed the superior beings.

Red chuckled, his own fangs unsheathing in the low candlelight.  Her eyes widened and she began to struggle with renewed interest.  Her voice alternated between prayers and begs, and screams.  Tears freely flowing down her sweaty cheeks, her attacks becoming more wild and unruly.  Yes, let her struggle and fear…. The meat and blood always tasted best that way.  Fully saturated with the taste of the last plights of life.  But she didn’t know that just yet…

Finally, tiring of this silly game, Red decided to put her out of her misery.  Yanking her forward towards him, his fangs plunged into her neck.  Her hands were on his shoulders now, beating and pushing, still hoping for one chance at escape.

The poor fool… she had missed her chance.  The only way that she could escape him is if she had never set foot on the castle grounds to begin with.

Her blood was sour on his tongue, causing him to snarl.  These human females and the pills and drink they took.  It soured the flesh…

Now he would have to dig even deeper.

Snarling, he withdrew his hands from her neck, watching as the blood poured from her wound.  Let the soiled blood flow… let it clean the flesh… clean his meal….

Fingers digging into the back of her shoulders, puncturing her enough to draw beads of blood, he yanked her towards him again.  He bit down on her neck again, this time pulling out a chunk of the flesh and spitting it to the ground, not even bothering to taste her blood again.  The bite had not even fallen with he struck again, and again, chunks of flesh and peelings of skin slowly collecting around them as he moved from her neck to her collarbone.

He was hungry… and her screams were getting annoying.

A single finger dug into her flesh under her jawline.  Her hand reached up as she yowled, still pleading for her life and promises to never return, or even to return with an offering of cattle or sheep.  Foolish girl… he wanted none of that.  If they had been raised by her or her family, they too would have been poisoned by feed or leftovers or drugs.  With a careless tug, he lurched it across her neck, spilling her blood around him.  Her eyes showed only white as she miraculously screamed.  Her blood flood in uneven globs around them, but that wasn’t the best part.  The red mist of her blood gas sprayed the wall and even the ceiling, coating the air in a thick metallic scent.  This display gave him satisfaction for only a split second before it was replaced by a different feeling.  It was similar to hunger and need, but darker, more energizing.  One that only fueled his primal need for more blood and fear.

Her blood flow began to slow as her blood pressure decreased, her own body’s safety mechanisms working against her. Finally, after long last, her screams slowly faded into a muffled gurgle, and a soft, defeated sigh escaped her throat.  Her hands, slowed their desperate fight before sagging down the front of his chest, her neck and head flopping backwards.  The light slowly faded from her eyes.

But it still wasn’t enough.  He could see now that her arms were riddled with needle marks.  No wonder she had tasted so foul.  Yet he couldn’t let this meal waste.  He would have to do something else.  Her body was still sour and sick and he was so hungry…

His fingers jerked suddenly and with great force, pulling her arms from her shoulders as a human de-winged a chicken.  There was a small crunch of shattering cartilage before they came free in his arms.  These weren’t what he was looking for though.  He flung the extremities to the side, barely listening as they landed with a soft thud to the wall and floor.

Not paying any heed to them now, considering them waste, his fingers pulled the clothing from her body, exposing her body to him.  Red rumbled looking at the smooth skin of her torso.  How it differed from the tack marked arms.

He did not delight in her body.  He did not care for her perky breasts or trim waist.  Nor was he drawn to her curved hips or firm buttocks…

No… he needed her blood… nothing else from her.

Moving down the rest of her body, Red bit and scratched and spat, the blood slowly draining from her as he forced injuries upon her useless, lifeless body.

The ceiling and walls were almost brown and black with blood, small droplets of the thick flood slowly dripping down the walls, falling from the ceiling.  Little clots were already forming around the waste, they would make excellent food for his pet bats later on… and still, he wasn’t satisfied.

It wasn’t until he stood in a deep puddle of her blood that the fluid from her body began to smell slightly sweet.  Nose twitching, he pressed his nasal cavity into one of her wounds and gave a great sniff.  Her body was completely unrecognizable now.  Her white skin had been torn and slashed, great sheets missing from her body.  Chunks of her flesh all over her body were missing, riddling her body with little craters.

And her poor little neck was completely destroyed. If not for the remains of her skull, no one would know who or what this once was.

At last, Red was satisfied with his meal.  The poisons that she had been injected her body with and swallowing her gone, leaving behind only the worthy blood.

With a grateful sigh, Red sank his fangs into her body once more… and began to drink.

* * * * *

Fell withdrew his hand from Red’s skull, chuckling as the thrall gave a soft sigh, the smaller skeleton still dreaming that he was sucking on a human’s corpse.  Such was the power of a vampire lord – able to slip into the minds of his minions at will.  Usually, he had thought himself above such tactics, but tonight he had been more than a little concerned with his creation.  Only for him to find that he himself had nothing to fear.  He had been right all along about his little thrall.  Underneath the fearful little pansy, there was the heart and mind of a mighty hunter, one worthy of the title of vampire…

Though he would have to teach him how to rein in his overkill.

“Sleep well, little one,” he softly cooed, doing his best not to wake him.  Gently, he placed a bloody steak in the thrall’s hands, mindful of the frills and lace of the dress.  Still, he couldn’t help the sinister grin watching as he sank his new fangs into it immediately.  Thralls never forgot their first taste of human blood or steak.  “You’ll need your energy for tomorrow.”

[zee-cupcakes-personal-blog]

13 (stomach kiss) with Shigaraki? 💚

AAAHHH SHIGARAKI~

Admittedly, I thought this would be harder than it was- but as a result it’s a LOT longer. Just... Warning, I’m rolling with the idea it’s not the HERO!Shiggy, but plain old “Caught these hands” Shiggy. 

You were taking up his couch.

Sure, he knew that you were tired (you probably were even asleep)... And sure, he probably knew you were completely willing to move if he just gave you a moment.

On the other hand, his ring-fingers were bandaged up rendering his quirk ineffective for the time being, he too was tired, and this was HIS couch. You knew what you signed up for when you decided to take a power-nap at 10 pm there.

With the same skill of a teenager dancing around obligations he hopped onto the sofa- his feet between yours before he sat down and shoved your front leg out enough for him to take a seat.

He looked at you disdainfully from behind the ever-present fingers of father as he reached a hand to the nearby side-table to pull his psp from its charger and powered it to life, and in a matter of thirty seconds the bright vibrant sounds of the music game he had been playing blared from the psp’s tiny speakers. Yet... No sign of movement from you...

Huh. You really were tired, weren’t you? 

Eh... Well, you weren’t using your leg for anything good. In a fluid moment he picked your leg up at the calf and slid it over his lap-- not for any sentimental reason. Nooo he was using your leg to lean forward and stare at a positively blinding distance away from his device as he lost himself in a stage he had played at least seven times over before-- though he had never gotten a perfect score, and Tomura was anything if not DETERMINED to max out his percentile.

Five times later and he had all the collectibles and sure enough slid to the final section to be greeted with a congratulatory five-star reading.

Tomura looked up and looked at you, squinting slightly.

... Someone was going to take advantage of you like this. Really, not waking you up was doing you a favor in the long run... It wasn’t like you had a bad habit of sleeping in the common room, but one admonishment from Kurogiri, or one stray dick drawn by Dabi or Twice... One horrible makeup-experiment done by Toga (he shuddered to think)... You’d never sleep in public again. You’d probably even lock your door-- good. That was smartest.

He flexed his fingers idly, not ready to return to the absolutely saccharine-sweet sound-track just yet as he popped his neck with a single head-tilt and stretched out his fingers... Maybe he should just go to bed. Kurogiri had been bothering him more and more about that lately.... Then again... Who was to say that he couldn’t make you regret sleeping on his gaming couch himself? Why’d he leave that sort of thing up to fate?

From beyond father’s presence he snickered as he set his precious game-system down on the side-table and leered closer... When was the last time someone slept on this couch? When was the last time someone -anyone- had slept comfortably around him?... The simple question plagued his mind as the logical answer and the innocent truth hit him... No one had ever done this... And you knew this was his couch, so... Why?

Huh... You must have been tired... Willing to sleep in someone’s place like that. Tired and stupid.

His eyes wandered over you- just to double-check that your chest was rising and falling at an even pace and your eyes were closed. An expression of discomfort riddled your features... Then again, you had looked like this earlier. Maybe you were so tired and you had been forced to sleep on his couch and it bothered you? Hah... That must be it. It was the only explanation.

Come morning you’d apologize, he’d tell you you should have been and nothing would have happened.

The sound of scratching echoed in the room, and it was then he realized he was rubbing his neck again. How annoying... He should just throw your leg off and go to bed himself, leaving you to the cruel fate of--- whatever was in store for you... Oh, wait. He was going to be that cruel fate... But what to do?...

There would be a limit to what he could do- everyone would get mad at him if he did something as bad as Dabi... Maybe he’d scare you so bad you’d never think of even coming near this couch again.... Yeah... Yeah that was good.

He loomed a little closer and stared at you, grinning madly. He knew how horrifying he looked without father. Especially when he was smiling. Tomura let out a conniving chuckle as he leaned forward, and removed father.... Ahh... He’d look just like a yokai like this.

“Hey.” He tried to stir you. “Heyyyy....” this repeated a few more times, each time less and less successfully as your tired state began to sore...

Tomura was no longer smiling. Instead, he let out a singular groan- one familiar to your ears... Familiar enough you muttered: “Shiguraki-sannn...” in your sleep before falling back into slumber.

Now.... Tomura definitely wasn’t smiling. He felt his eye bulge was he quickly surveyed the surroundings. The pair of you were still alone, but now he felt like he could hear nothing over the sound of his pounding heart in his chest as he looked down at you.... Were you... Dreaming of him? Did he dare push his luck and find out?... Maybe you’d not even remember tomorrow- not like he’d just ask you but now the question remained... Did he want to find out?

He furtively looked to his hand and placed it at your hip, his little finger still extended, even though he technically didn’t need to keep it like that. In fact, he removed his ring-finger before touching all four bare fingers against the soft fabric of your shirt. The sensation against his skin left him light-headed for a moment before he resolutely pulled himself from his passing interest. It wasn’t like you were touching skin-to-skin, he thought to himself as he put his other hand on the opposite side of your hip.

Not a peep from you. Maybe he had imagined it... Maybe he had.

No. He needed more data, more statistics... It was like hunting a rare monster- this was just the first sign. He couldn’t abandon his quest now...

His thoughts ran wild for a moment, trying to plan what would be the next best move, what the risks were... finally he rolled his eyes and slid a few fingers under the hem of your shirt. Instant red-warnings played in his mind- he knew he was doing something he shouldn’t have and now he was beginning to grow wary of every little sound around him- especially the little groan of his name that came from your lips.

Abort mission. Abandon the quest. Evacuate all party members. Flee. Flee. FLEE.

His hand had removed itself from your torso moments before you began to shift and he cursed himself for not having given up this silly venture sooner. Now here you were- FINALLY waking up and he was here- stuck in between your legs and-- wait.

No.

In a moment of dumb luck and pure wit he flattened himself out as much as he could and rested his head on your stomach, closing his eyes and pretending so desperately that he had fallen asleep to.

“Mmn... Tomura?” he heard your voice as you shifted to sit up a bit more. He’d not be as lazy as you.

He opened a lazy eye and glared at you. “... You were on my couch.” Tomura watched you snort as he pulled his arms around his head. “You made your bed, now you have to lie in it...” he uttered. “Take some fucking responsibility and don’t be a brat.”

With his face buried in the crook of his elbows he couldn’t watch your reaction- he only knew you leaned back and resumed your sleeping position again. Moments later you were snoring once more.... But oddly Tomura had no motive to move... Fatigue was at maximum- but at least he was... Sharing fatigue with someone else. Would you two get a bonus tomorrow for something like this?

He had no idea. What he did know is that moments before he fell asleep he looked up at you again, just to make sure you weren’t... Faking and it felt really nice that you weren’t. If he could only hope you would be this calm tomorrow when you woke... He doubted it, but he hoped...

His eyes started to flutter shut as he nuzzled your belly a little more and gave your tummy a quick kiss. For good luck, of course.

[sangsanghaebwa]

Moonstones -PROLOGUE-

Genre: Drabble, Fantasy!AU  Word count: 1.7k Description: Dust on the shelves, boxes of stones, a lost pendand and a hand adorned in rings that only you can remember. Author’s note: It’s hands down my personal favorite thing I’ve written (and I really hope I won’t change my mind in the morning). Nonetheless, fantasy AUs are my absolute favorites and I’ve been meaning to write a chaptered one for a while now. Is it this one though?~ 👀 🙊

The storage room at the back of the store was cramped and dusty, various kinds of stones, dried herbs and magical trinkets packed into a mess of boxes, jars, and linen bags. Still, organizing the shelves was an easier task than taking care of all the herbs and magical plants growing in the sunlit backyard of the store; or answering customer’s questions about things you were just barely starting to understand yourself. That is why you accepted your assignment humbly, opting to learn from your more experienced coworker Rose, before taking up more responsibilities. Walking across the busy shopping district to pick up the new deliveries from the Post Portal Office every morning; arranging the displays in the tiny windows of the store as well as on the shelves behind the counter; organizing the storage room which had been left in a mess for way too long; occasionally greeting the customers when Rose would disappear somewhere doing other tasks; and finally – cleaning the store and closing up every evening – these were your tasks in the ‘Black Cat’ – the best store for magical stuff in town (at least according to your middle aged lady boss, who also happened to be a witch you wouldn’t dare argue with).

You were almost done separating the boxes of Rose Quartz from the pile of various merchandise lying on the floor (obviously knocked over by accident and forgotten), when you reached out to grasp your own pendant with the pastel pink stone, out of habit, only to find that it wasn’t there. Confused you started grasping for the leather string, usually hanging around your neck, hoping that the pendant had just slipped under your loose sweater, but soon enough it became clear that it just wasn’t there. You could still remember clearly how you put it on in the morning, before spraying a bit of your favorite perfume on your wrists and heading out, which could only mean that you had lost it. An annoyed huff slipped past your lips and the next second you were already calling up all your cute charms, calling out for your coworker.

“Rose?”

“Mmm?” You could hear her quite clearly, which meant she was at the front desk, basically right outside the storage door.

“I think I lost my pendant.”

“Which one?” You could hear the chime announcing a new customer, whom Rose greeted with an enthusiastic ‘Welcome to the Black Cat!’, but considering the following silence you decided that the customer must be looking around the store.

“The Rose Quartz one…” You were still searching the ground of the storage room, hoping that you had simply dropped the pendant there, but it was becoming obvious you must have lost it while running errands in the morning.

You heard Rose talk to the customer, her chirpy ‘business’ voice mixing with a lower, more calm one, in a discussion about some sort of stones. Suddenly she startled you by storming into the storage room and digging into the pile on the floor that you’d been sorting for the past hour or so, looking for a particular item.

“You know it’s pretty useless anyways? Just take another one from the storage,” she motioned at the neatly organized boxes containing all shapes, sizes and shades of Rose Quartz, and while she did have a point, you couldn’t help but pout because of the attachment you felt to your pendant.

“Darling, I am not going to cast a locator spell on a stone meant to attract and keep love. It clearly hadn’t worked for you anyways~”

Rose grabbed a box of moonstones and sprung up, running away, and even though you attempted to kick her ass on her way out, but she dodged, teasing you further with her laughs. What was the point of having a witch colleague if she wasn’t even willing to help with an occasional spell here and there?

“I’m not wearing it because of that and you know it!” You shouted after her, emerging from the storage room, “it was a gift to heal heartache and it worked just… fine?” You lost your train of thought, your attention caught by the closing front door, a hand adorned with numerous various rings disappearing behind it. Rose seemed like she was spacing out, which was weird, considering she had just finished serving a customer.

“Rose, are you listening?” You waved a hand in front of her face and she seemed to snap out of it, even though the lost look in her eyes still remained.

“Hm? Oh, yeah I’m listening! And I’m still not casting a spell – it’s difficult magic and, like you said, your heartache is healed so there’s no need for that pendant anymore!” She went around the counter, busying herself with the already perfect display and you decided to let the topic go, with a mumbled ‘that’s not what I said’. Instead you followed behind her, suddenly curious about her weird behavior.

“Rose?”

“Mmm?”

“Why do you look so, I don’t know… lost? Your mood changed so suddenly, was that customer rude to you or something?” Usually you weren’t one to pry, but this time it felt like your annoying overly sensitive intuition was pushing you to ask, and you had long since learned to just give in to that feeling, otherwise you’d feel unsettled for the rest of the day.

“Customer? What customer?”

It was your turn to look lost now, wondering what kind of game was Rose playing, when you had clearly heard her talking with a customer and even saw him leave.

“The one you were searching moonstones for in the storage room a few minutes ago?”

“(Y/N), I haven’t been to the storage room today yet.” Rose’s expression looked dead serious and you were beginning to question your own sanity. You had almost convinced yourself that you were hallucinating, when you saw money lying on the counter – the exact amount for a box of moonstones.

“Did you leave that money here?” You absent-mindedly asked Rose, making her lean to the side, to take a look around you.

“No? The counter was just empty seconds ago?” Rose moved to take the money and put it away in the cash register, the metaphorical gears turning in her head almost visible to you, “are you absolutely sure there was a customer here and I went to the storage room?”

You nodded, somewhat unsure, but still listening to your intuition telling you to trust yourself, “unless I was hallucinating for the past fifteen minutes, then yes.”

“In that case I will take a wild guess that whoever our customer was, they were able to manipulate my memory,” a shudder went down your spine at the thought of anyone powerful enough to do being just a few meters away from you. Also whoever needed to resort to that must have had reasons and you weren’t sure you wanted to know them.

“Should we tell the boss?”

“I’m not sure… I mean they did pay so they couldn’t have been thieves, and other than that it’s not our business… and it’s probably better to not know.” Rose still looked deep in thought though and once she caught your questioning stare, she hesitantly explained, “if they went through all the trouble to confuse me like that, it’s strange that they’d be sloppy enough to not take care of your memory.”

And you had to agree with that, this question still bugging you for the rest of the day and even when you got back home, uneasiness preventing you from falling asleep even when your persistent intuition was telling you to let it be.

That night you dreamt of a hand adorned in shiny rings, slipping deeper into a black sleeve of what seemed to be a hoody, disappearing in it and looking almost… endearing?

You woke up confused, starting the day with your usual wondering, whether it was simply a weird dream or your seer powers sending you riddles you didn’t feel like solving.

Jimin maneuvered between people in the busy streets effortlessly – running these kinds of errands was becoming his usual duty, and staying unnoticed was already in his instincts even before he got the extra help of magic. It was almost like he was invisible – people could see him, but they weren’t curious enough to actually look, busy, hurrying to attend to their own errands.

The wooden box of moonstones, settled in the pocket of his black hoodie, was emanating a pleasant, almost sensual feeling throughout his body, feeding his energy and sharpening his senses even further. It was a weird mix of soothing and revitalizing, and he almost felt dizzy with excitement at the thought of bringing the stones back to his grumpy brother, finally ridding him of that nasty mood, which had unfortunately started to spread throughout the whole house.

Suddenly he stilled, a sweet scent catching his attention – familiar, but at the same time not, since he couldn’t quite put a label on it. He deliberated for a split moment and decided that the others won’t die if they wait for a second longer, opting to follow the scent to a narrower alley – a shortcut leading to the Post Portal Office. Once he spotted the source of the scent, lying abandoned on the sidewalk, confusion washed over his features, his already plump lips settling into a wondering pout. A second later realization struck him, and even though he was still confused as to why he remembered such minuscule detail down to even its scent, he picked up the abandoned item by the end of the worn out leather string.

Any further thoughts were cut short when he suddenly felt a foreign presence in the back of his mind, seeping with annoyance and wordlessly urging him to come back to them.

He slipped the cute little trinket into his pocked, next to the wooden box, not really understanding why he even picked it up, but not really worrying over it either.

You were still fighting off the remnants of sleep clouding the corners of your mind, sipping morning coffee from your portable cup, when you reached the ‘Black Cat’. It was your duty to unlock the store and prepare to open for a new business day every morning, except, unlike every morning, once you reached for the lock, key in hand, your hand bumped into a pastel pink stone, dangling on the door handle, tied there by a worn down, broken leather string.

[skyedestiny]

16 with Namjin? :D :D :D

To see my reaction to this ask being a thing: click here

And without further delay, let’s do it to it.

“It’s okay.  I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

Namjoon was the type of guy who had to be thoroughly exhausted to get sleep.  Otherwise, his brain would buzz on and on like a swarm of bees in his ear.  Productive, but relentless.  Intriguing, with what his semi-tired mind could come up with, but entirely exhausting in its own right.

Sleep had come rather easily for him tonight, but a few hours along the way, he’d been woken up, his dreams too vivid, too inspiring.  And he was itching with the urge to write.

No, no, no, he mentally pleaded.  Just wait until morning, I’ll write when it’s morning.  

His mind was merciless, though, hitting him with idea after idea and the fear that come morning-time, he might forget what he’d been so inspired about.

Better to at least take notes now, hmm? temptation whispered.  Temptation which, as the seconds ticked by, shifted closer and closer to sounding like Namjoon’s own common sense.  Reason and rationale.

After a few minutes, he sighed, throwing his sheets off of himself with a move riddled full of frustration and concession.  This was giving in.  Yes, he agreed, his mind’s voice sluggish and heavy as if it were still desperately clinging to the state of unconsciousness he’d only just occupied.  It sounded grumpy.  That would be the smart thing to do.

Sometimes he resented his logic.

So, Namjoon got up, flipped on his desk light, and sat down to write.  To the dismay of Taehyung, who winced as Namjoon’s wooden chair skidded on the floor.

“Hyung, go back to bed - it’s so late,” he pleaded, voice adult-deep but childlike at the same time.  He shifted in his bed, moving to turn away from the light resonating from the lamp, as though he could see it through his sleep mask.  Fighting his own battle to remain united with slumber, Taehyung clutched the teddybear he held in his arms all the more intensely.

“You don’t even know what time it is,” Namjoon criticized.  “It could be morning right now.  You can’t tell with that thing on your face.”  Then, a realization.  “How did you even know that I was up?”

Less pleading and more grumpy.  “The mask doesn’t cover my ears, Namjoon-hyung.”

Fair enough.  Namjoon didn’t respond after that.  He’d might as well let V get his rest.  They all needed as much sleep as they could get around this busy time.

Which was why Namjoon was surprised when, after he’d finished his writing and found himself no longer tired, he escaped to the kitchen to grab a drink of water to find the eldest hyung in Bangtan sitting at the dining room table.

“Jin-hyung?” Furrowing his brows at the sight, Namjoon rubbed his eyes.  The leader of the group was about to question just what it was that Seokjin was doing up - the last Namjoon had checked, it was nearly four in the morning - when he spied the 3DS in his hands.

His hand dropped, along with his expression, falling into exasperation.  But, really, the situation was rather amusing.  He couldn’t help the normal tight-lipped smile that quickly took the place of the exasperated look.  Namjoon shook his head.  “Jin-hyung - really?”

“What?” The elder didn’t look up from his game, fingers a blur of motion.

“Videogames? At 4 AM?”

Jin must’ve paused his game, as he glanced up, looking shocked.  Had he not known what time it was? Though his face was largely blank, there was shame and embarrassment to his features.  Until, finally, an irrepressible grin overtook him as well.  “RM,” Jin said, his tone one of faux sternness.  “What other time do I have?”

A laugh bubbled up through Namjoon as he shuffled across the floor and pulled out a chair at Jin’s side.  “Some time that isn’t four o’clock in the morning?” He was only half-serious in his condemnation, though.  “No wonder you’re always falling asleep while we’re waiting to go on stage.”

“Aaaah, this friend!” Jin forgot to keep his voice down as he turned his attention back to his game, saving his progress.  (Immediately, he realized his mistake, and he gave a look that was between a smile and a cringe as Namjoon pressed a finger to his own lips (a few times, for emphasis).)

No movement sounded from any other part of the dorms, though, so Seokjin continued, quieter now.  “You act as if you don’t fall asleep everywhere you can.  You snore - we can all hear the evidence.”

Namjoon yelped, a hand going to his heart.  “That’s so harsh.  I thought we were friends, hyung.  What did I do to earn such strict animosity?”

Jin ignored the question, but kept his bright grin about him.  It was clear his words had no real malice to them.  “And second of all, I’m busy helping to take care of the kids during the rest of the day.  There is no other time.”

Another laugh from Namjoon, a toothy smile this time.  (Namjoon didn’t like to show off his teeth typically.  Not that there was anything wrong with them, he just didn’t like how they made his mouth look.)  “You know the ones you’re calling kids are adults? They’re capable of taking care of themselves.”

 But Jin just shook his head, looking as if this situation was a tragic but inevitable one. “Ah, they’ve never had to live in the real world before.  They wouldn’t know what to do.”

“Well at the very least, acknowledge that you’re not the only parent here.”  It was a friendly gesture, really.  To remind Jin that he wasn’t the only one who had to uphold the ‘burden’ of taking care of the rest of the group.  Namjoon, after all, was their leader.

But Seokjin merely waved a hand in said leader’s face.  “You can barely take care of yourself - you cut your mouth on a piece of candy the other day.”

Namjoon scoffed, throwing his head back.  “You’re mean at this time of night!”

The moment passed, filled with giggles from both men, until it transitioned into something lighter, and more overtly warm.  The playful tension of teasing dropped, like a mask, revealing the truth underneath - an atmosphere of gentle affection, respect, and love.

“Why are you still up, huh?” asked Seokjin.  It was an indirect call for Namjoon to go to bed, complete with a gesture of his head back towards the hall of bedrooms.  An order, perhaps, but more like a suggestion, made with care.  “You need your rest as much as the rest of us.”

But Namjoon shook his head, scrunching up his face as if this issue was no big deal.  “I’ll go when you go,” he said.  “I’m not really tired.  Besides, I’m pretty sure me walking back in there is only gonna disturb V.”

The way Jin’s lips stretched just a little more at the corners told Namjoon that he’d successfully pulled the older away from the path of trying to persuade him to head off to bed.  “Oh? Did you wake him?”

“Yeah.”  The word was drawn out as if Namjoon were owning up to some sort of mistake.  “I figure it’s best if I just stay out here for now.  Give him some more time to get back to sleep.”

Seokjin gave a sigh as if disappointed.  “RM, you can’t even leave your room for a glass of water without causing havoc.”

“What?!” A momentary slip in the task of keeping his voice down.  The volume of it even jolted Namjoon himself.  But laughter sounded within the word.  He was being scolded again?

“V is one of our most peaceful members,” said Jin.  “How did you manage to even upset him?”

“Okay, well, I wasn’t just getting a glass of water,” said Namjoon.  “I got up initially because I had inspiration to write.”

Jin blinked at this, his teasing smile falling away for a moment.  “Another song? You know we just had a comeback, right? It’s too late to put another new song on the album.”

Namjoon laughed, waving a hand at the elder.  “Should inspiration for new music always come so easy.  It’s never too late to be writing new material.”

The gentle, warm smile was back on Jin’s face, playfulness set aside momentarily as the atmosphere, once again, fell back into something more tranquil.  Something, honestly, more appropriate for this time of night.  “Well, you know I’d love to see whatever you’ve written.”  These were words genuinely spoken.

“I’d love to show it to you.”

The truth was that Namjoon had a bit of an ulterior motive when it came to just why he was remaining up with Jin.  Besides always enjoying the elder’s company, Namjoon could tell that if he was up this late, only to play video games, something else was on Seokjin’s mind.  Something heavy, that he would likely not share with anyone.

It was part of the burden of being the oldest in the group.  It was very difficult for Jin to keep in mind that he could lean on the rest of the members just as much as they could lean on him.  If he were going through a hard time, he had just as much a right to be open about it as the rest of them.  But it was very hard to overcome feeling just the opposite of that.

Namjoon wasn’t one to pry.  If Jin wanted to talk about it, he hoped that his patience and his company, his clear and unwavering support, would encourage him to have the courage to bring things up.  But Namjoon didn’t push.  Namjoon never would.  He would just always be there.

So it was with another sip of his water that Namjoon added, “I’ve got some great stuff for you in there.”

Pulled out of a seeming trance, Seokjin blinked back to the here and now.  “Oh? Really?” There was shock in his voice.

Sometimes Jin didn’t have to say what was on his mind.  It was clear through how he said whatever he did choose to voice.

Namjoon nodded.  “There’s some stuff that I know is just gonna sound perfect with your voice.”  Even if Namjoon couldn’t see the way that Jin suddenly inhaled, straightening his back, even if he couldn’t see the light dusting of pink that came to his cheeks and ears, he could still tell that the elder had brightened at his words.  “I’ll show you tomorrow.  We can check it out, maybe even go back to the studio and try it.”

“T-Try it?” There was no way to miss that stammer.  “You’re already at that stage of-?”

The leader cut him off with a wave of his hand and a shake of his head.  “Only your parts.  I’m still only just starting off with putting everything together.  But I think it would be cool to have your input.”

Jin seemed stunned into stillness, beaming with surprised joy.  

That was fine.  They could sit there for however long Seokjin chose.  Namjoon would wait.

Namjoon would be there.

[thepurpletrunk]

Chapter 2

Redreaming 

The drive home was short and sweet. During the trip I kept glancing at the trunk sitting in the passenger seat as if it was a friend who was accompanying me home. The icy roads lead me to my house deep within a labyrinth of suburban homes. I came upon the familiar grey brick and mortar of my home with only the spaced streetlights that left splotches of darkness on the road. My mom left the lights on by the garage as I pull in behind what I know is where my mom always parks her car. I automatically exit the car, almost forgetting to grab the trunk as I fluidly went through my nightly routine. I flip up the shield to the garage opener and I plug in the code to my garage door on auto pilot. In the mud room I slipped off my shoes and socks that became soggy as the snow melted. I swiftly tiptoed inside so as to not alert my mother who was seated on the couch for her nightly tv time. Her plan to record shows during the day so she could fast forward the commercials at night. It was Sunday so I already knew she was viewing The Bachelor. Before any progress could be made a brown figure darted across the hardwood floor. Theodora stood only a few inches off of the ground but her eyes were squarely locked on me as few huffs that barely sounded like a bark came from the muzzle of the brazen chihuahua. She started towards me with several noises spouting from her mouth such as squeaks, yips and squeals. Her long brown fur brushed against my shin as she began her lick attack on my now open skin.

“Hey Lin how was your day?” My mom says absent mindedly, not even looking away from the screen.

“Good.” I respond with a lack of interest in continuing the conversation. I reached down to pet Theodora, and as soon as she saw my hand descend she flopped over to reveal her belly. I squat down, and give her a good few rubs before I begin my ascent upstairs, heading straight to my room. I passed my brother's door in its usual position, closed, as he wasted the night away playing a game. My parents room lays barren as only one presides within the house.

I enter the door to my room and quickly lock it behind my back as I make a beeline to the open space at the foot of my bed. I gently set the trunk down on the fraying carpeted floor and inspect the “gift”. Was it all real? What if I had just fallen asleep on the train and dreamed up all of it? If so, did I just steal a trunk off the Metra???

My breath quickens as I go over all the different scenarios in my head of how I came across the trunk that lazily lays in front of me, but none seemed more odd than the truth. I audibly sigh as I begin to prod it to see if it would jump alive or start speaking riddles. None of that happened as it lay inert on the wood. Getting a closer look at the lock I see it is a simple button mechanism to open up the latches that hold the trunk together. I weigh my options as I ponder whether to enter it again and risk another strange encounter as the one that happened not even an hour ago. I check the time, seeing how much time I would have before it became too late, 10:27 What do I have to lose?

I press my finger to unlock the trunk and it pops open as soon as I stop putting pressure on the button. It cracked open slightly, seducing me to open it further, much like I did before. Opening it all the way, I made quick work of the descent and opening the door. This time, I was greeted by the smell of old paper and leather, not too dissimilar to my campus library. Entering into the new room, I was surrounded on all sides by leagues of books. The floor was a sturdy dark wood that did not give way to any noises as I stepped forward in wonderment. Ladders protruded off of the shelves that reached up 20 feet allowing access to the most distant books at the top. There was a walkway above revealing the second story of books that is accessed by a metal spiral staircase with dragons snaking up its metal supports. The ceiling arches illustrating the day sky as clouds pass through the scene above. Light emitting from an illustrated sun painted in a van Gough artistic rendition of what the sun would look like.

My trance was interrupted by someone clearing their throat and alerting me of their presence as I just noticed the plush leather chair and green reading light only a few feet from me.

“Excuse me miss, but I believe you are lost, might I ask how you happened to chance upon this place?”

A prim man stands in front of the chair with a straightened back and reserved features. He looked much less friendly than my previous encounter with a strange man in a box. His hair has more white amongst his curls than grey, with a thin nose and thick eyebrows sleet grey. Crows' feet protrude from hooded lids that hide hard hazel eyes. He patiently awaits my response as I stand flabbergasted at yet another unknown individual. He had a look of a scholar that had just got done reading a chapter and was interrupted by a student coming in to ask a question.

“I was given this trunk, Bryan Smyth gave it to me, and I'm not lost, I purposefully climbed into this trunk.” I clap back assert my confidence in my presence in the trunk.

He heaves a great sigh and grumbles, “of course he would do something like this. Allowing an unknown juvenile such power is exactly what that lawless, blunderbuss of a man would do.”

I giggle at the mention of blunderbuss, musing at his old timey disposition and speech. “He did seem to be a bit of a lollygagger”, I mimic in a similar accent as the unknown old timer.

“Yes, a true neerdowell.” he glanced off pondering,” so back to this issue. Did my friend by any chance tell you anything about this box he so graciously gifted you?”

“He didn't really say much, other than I could do what I wished with it.”

At this he began to pace and rub his chin with one hand while using the other for support. “I can not leave this scoundrel alone for a few minutes without him trudging off to who knows where to make a mess of trouble for others to clean up. I apologize for my actions, but I can not stand this man's shenanigans.”

“It's alright.” I respond awkwardly as the conversation dies down.

“Well on to business, my name is Andrew, Andrew Lazil.  it is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.” he reaches out with his left hand.

“Oh, Aisling Greenway nice to meet you too.” I accept his hand and he tightly embraces mine with his.

“Now” he states as he lets go and begins to walk back to his chair and assumes his prior position, “I am assuming there are many queries you must have on your precarious situation. Please ask away.” He sinks into the comfy chair as he beckons me and my many questions forward.

Where to start? Maybe start with Bryan? Probably should go with the magic trunk. Wait why is he even here in the first place?

“Um…” I stumble over my thoughts as I try to pull one string of questioning forward. As I struggle with focusing a chair materializes out of thin air a few feet in front of Andrew. With its sudden appearance all of my sense of thinking escapes me as I focus on the now present chair that appeared before my very eyes. WHat kind of magic is this?!? I stand stock still as my mouth falls open

“Ah do not worry the trunk can manifest whatever you need in the moment. I took the liberty of manifesting this for you, so our conversation can be more comfortable”

“Thank you” I say as I cautiously sink down into the leather chair. The lavish leather swallowing me just enough for me to be supported yet in a comfortable position. Andrew takes out his glasses that hung from his buttoned down shirt and places them on the tip of his nose. His eyes narrow on me as if trying to solve the puzzle of what question will be thrown his way before it even escapes my lips. “So. What is this place?”

“This is the place where dreams can be viewed. Any dream of a person who enters this trunk will be displayed here as a book that can be viewed by anyone who enters here and can only be removed by you. If anything crosses your unconscious you can find it here.”

“So all the books in here are dreams?” I begin to look around and the multitude of the hoards of books.

“Yes, each dream manifests itself however the owner of the trunk pleases. It Seems you are not unlike Bryan in your love for literature, I pray that is your only similarity. Any individual who enters the trunk's domain gets a section where their dreams are viewable.”

“Where are mine?”

“Hmm” he lifts himself out of the chair sauntering over to the bookshelf closest to the door, “since you were the last to enter the trunk, we can find yours here.” he gestures his hand toward shelves of hardcover books that vary in colors. “It seems that you name some of your dreams, wonderful.”

I stand up to stand beside him as he lazily scans over my shelves only focusing on a book or two before continuing his path down the shelf. “Wow, that's a lot of books.”

“Indeed it may seem so but it is actually quite average for your age. The more you dream the more show up, and you still seem to be a young adult, so your section will grow with time.”

“Why are some colored different? Not saying I'm opposed to the rainbow aesthetic.”

“That is for the sake of both you and me. They are colored to tell us what kind of dream it contains. When we dream we often have an overarching emotion that we tie to it. This shows in this manifestation such as the color yellow often finds itself on covers of dreams that are happier,” he plucks off a soft mustard yellow book. “While dreams that are more negative emotions and frightening take on a darker hue that is often black.”

“Cool, what does blue mean?” I say as I grab a soft blue book off the shelf that is eye level.

“Blue can mean a varied amount of things. As I said earlier shade is everything and that one seems to be a more sad one.”

“That's cool,” I say as I look around the barren library devoid of any other human presence, “are you the only one here? This place seems pretty spacious for only one person.”

“I am not the only reader here. There were more that used to reside closer to the door, but Bryan has the talent to irk anyone.”

“Reader?”  I question

“Ah I haven't properly explained my purpose here have I. I am a designated reader in this trunk, it is my job to redream dreams, read through them and advise you in deciphering dreams and their imagery.”

“So how do I redream a dream? Like can I redream any of them or are there restrictions?”

“Would you like to view one? Just pluck it off the shelf and open it. It is as easy as that.”

“Okay, so i just do this an….aaaaaaaaaa’

As I open the book I feel the tug of my very existence going into the book, as if gravity was compressing my body in on itself. My brain goes haywire with this new feeling and even when my body feels like it has ceased its physical existence. My vision goes as the once blinding flash of light gives way to darkness. Electricity runs through my senses and my mind muddles as my formless existence flows to an unknown place.  

Suddenly I find myself to be in a small bland room that feels vaguely familiar. It is the room that I visited in my dream a few days ago. This one I barely remembered in the morning when I woke up to my dreaded alarm. The walls are painted a soft yellow hue that reflects some of the light streaming in through the windows. Only one wall has windows, and each one takes up most of the wall. Two chairs lay at each window and in one sat me. I look younger than I do now, it is as if a picture of myself four years ago decided to jump out of the photograph and rest for a bit. It was peaceful, but the feeling of trepidation for something to come filled my chest and outlined the expression of the other me.

Soon the expected guest arrives as the window swings open to reveal Erin. She tumbles through the frame and closes the window and finds her way to the open chair, now only inches away from the other. Erin gazed out the paned window into an oblivion of clouds. A spike of pain shoved its way through my chest at the sight of my old friend who no longer holds that title in my heart. My throat constricts as I see a replica of me in the chair close to a person that in real life would never get within one-hundred feet of me.

“Hello, long time no see.” Erin said casually.

“You know exactly why we don't see each other anymore” I bite back with anger lined with hurt.

“I am good, how are you, I miss when we were friends and I didn’t have to hate you.” My doppelgänger states in a soft voice. She mirrors me in all ways, with her soft brown hair resting gently on the small of her back. Light skin with red undertones and deep chocolate eyes, that in the bright light contain a hidden green tree line around the pupil. Sparse dark brown freckles that litter my arm appear on hers. Even her voice sounds like a recording of my own.

“I miss you too. But you know you can't control me and what I do. What's done is done”

I feel myself growing angrier as I recall the situation on how I lost a friend I once held dearly. “You did something horrible that I can not forgive you for. I could ruin your life if I exposed what you did. You- you ruined it!” I explain as my eyes strain to keep tears from spilling forth at the scar in my chest from the old wound. My words struggling not to crack as my heart once did. Cracks soon begin to form along the walls and spread out causing them to crumble away.

The Erin I see before me does not react to my words, but carries on, “Things can never be as they once were and it is my fault, but I will not tell you in person, that's not how it works.”

“I really wish we could be friends again, to laugh as we once did, and hang out. I really do.”

“I know. I do as well.”

I stare at the scene before me as I listen to a conversation of my own subconscious making. Soon a tear trickles down my cheek and I lean my head back a bit to contain the reservoir of tears. These words I wish she would say, to take responsibility for the horrible thing she did to me and everyone around her. I also hear the truth of myself, my inner longing for the time when I did not mistrust those around me and I had faith in those I called friends.

Both the image of me and Erin look out into the expanse of clouds now completely exposed as the cracks overtook the weak wall leaving only a frame of Brocken wall. I know this is the end, but there is so much I want to say to her, so much more that needs to be said. I don't want this to end, it can't. I need to tell her how much she has hurt me!

I never get the chance as the dream fades away into a cloudless horizon as the library once agains dawns into existence. Andrew stands before me as I reign myself in from the emotional outburst. My heart reeling from the reminder of an injury that used to be long buried. My body drags itself back to life and a heavy weight settles into my bones.

Andrew notices my pained expression and comforts me, “It's alright, it's only a dream.” he lightly pats my shoulder to ground me best he could.

“Thank you.” I say breathlessly. “ I think I should go. I need to sleep and that was a lot.”

“I do not doubt that. You can exit the way you entered. I will be here anytime you need me.”

“Thank you.” I mumble and shift away from Andrew as I begin to hurriedly exit the library. Once I reach the door I look back at my newfound friend and give him a tender nod as I close the door and begin my ascent out of the trunk.

I lift the lid as I enter back into my cozy room. The soft brown of my walls invites me to find calm. As I exit the trunk I notice my room is just how I left it, and as I glance at the clock I see the glowing red of my alarm clock displaying 10:27. Dressing down to put my night wear on the night called my cluttered mind to rest. A tiredness sweeps through and I can only think of snuggling in my bed to have my third dream of the day.

[jessvsbrain]

February 16, 2017

For as fast as time seems to move, I’m always pleasantly surprised by how little has actually passed. I am lifetimes away.

Aquarius, May, and I are getting a house. I’ve already started moving in, we’ll officially be there sometime next week probably. I’m so happy. It’s so perfect. Large and affordable and well planned. I’m going to have a space to dedicate to painting. I bought some nice oil paints to play with as a Valentine’s day gift to myself. Their current room mate will be coming also, I don’t have a name for him because I don’t really know him. He seems very nice, though, and if I have any issues with him that come up or if I feel unsafe for any reason it has been made abundantly clear that he is optional.

I feel so cared for by Aquarius and May, and I feel so lucky to have them. I will always have my backup plan (the house is one i could just barely afford on my own if it really, really came down to it), but I don’t really feel like I need a safety net. I feel quite like they are my safety net.

My medication is going well. Excellent, even, as long as I remember to take it. Even now I am not without flaw, but I am so much better than I have ever been. Yesterday was my first week off from therapy- we’ve decided that once every two weeks will be enough. I really think that soon once a month may be enough, but it doesn’t cost me anything so I am happy to go. I feel serene. I feel stable. Sometimes I have hours or days of darkness, but they are never so bad that I can’t still see the light. I still get quite anxious and overwhelmed sometimes for what seems to be no reason, but not so much so that I can’t make my lungs breathe.

Theia has gone to live with my mother. I feel so relieved, enough that it outweighs my guilt. She was so overwhelming to me, even at her best. Leo, even as perfect as he is, overwhelms me sometimes. He and I have been going on walks, he sleeps with me again.. I missed him. I’m going to bring him to see his sister tonight and sleep on my parents’ couch while they play. 

Last night May and I had a lot of wine and a lot of laughs. Aquarius joined us after a while and then their roommate; we sat on the couch and drank and played this ridiculously silly Wii game and laughed. I fell asleep cuddling Annie (Aquarius’ dog, I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned her by name. She is the only being in these journals who I couldn’t stand myself if I changed her name) and Aquarius played lullaby music in the background. I woke up when Annie moved and started drunk cry/laughing because I missed her and Aquarius just hugged me. It was all silly and half joking but it was so nice, the whole night was so laid back and comfortable and I felt so lucky. I gave them their Valentine’s day cards, silly little cards with handwritten letters of love tucked away inside. 

I don’t feel afraid. My subconscious is, I know, but I am not. My sleep has been terrible and I’m waking up every hour or so, the little that I do get is riddled with nightmares. Last week I had the first sleep paralysis nightmare I’ve had in a long time, I was being chased and hunted by my insecurities. They were dragging me though hell. Since then I’ve dreamed a lot about abstract versions of Sagittarius and Ruby and the people associated with that time period. Fear of change, fear of transition, fear of being unsettled. It’s all anxiety, but I am not afraid. I have so much love and my brain is so much more consistently stable than it has been in so long.

I am delicate, but I am careful. I have people who understand that I am delicate and always do their best, but I am aware that they will not always be able to catch me from falling. They may never be able to, not when it comes down to do or die. I am a beautifully well meaning and well acting person, but I will make mistakes and it will be okay. I’m so excited to move into my new beautiful functional house and have so much love. Whatever happens after this is fine, I’m only looking forward.