#oh the cold embrance of death

[cienie-isengardu]

[kolduns]

          ❛     МАЛЕНЬКИЙ  ПАУК,     ❜     FROM THE GARDEN OF DEATH     (            limbo,     purgatory:     the land made of screams of pain and terror  )     THE COLD REMEMBRANCE OF A GIRL LED ASTRAY.     perhaps never a member of god’s holy flock,     perhaps a soul bedeviled from the start.    her words fall easily from her lips     [  unaged by a near-century of peaceful bodily decay  ]     * &&     that almost terrifies her.     under this weeping willow lays the corpse of a witch.     she had never been one for these melancholic affections     (  ...  )     hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.     but it’s so easy:     to reach with the hand of something that should’ve remained dead towards his beating heart.     pressed tenderly to his cheek,     stubbled and rough in the early hours of the morning.     this sacrificial lamb,     this hero’s martyr.

          HOW SELFISH OF THIS THING THAT SHE’D BECOME TO CLAW IT’S WAY INTO HIS ABODE                         elsewhere too,     where someone more pious  should lay.     a part of her prideful     * &&     scorned at the idea of depending on his charity;     another,     staring softly at him in quiet worship.     but trapped in this state     (  rejected by mother and the boy,     by father’s favourite son.     “  don’t be an idiot,     you know the deal you made witch.  ”  )     of not dead and not alive,     too concious of her own body and being,     she had no option but to accept.     her palms caress his face,     oh so softly as if he’d awake at any moment,     basking in the warmth that his body radiates from under the covers:     in the shine of his brown hair under the morning light creeping throuh the blinds.

                                                  her skin is perpetually a dull greyish      * &&     lukewarm,     a victim to a bloodless husk.     kept warm or cold by the air around them in the room,     his arms that welcome her within them.     ‘  CHRIST,     YOU’RE FREEZING VASY!  ’.     not that she could feel her own decay,     cold beneath her:     but the warmth of his body was something sacred,     special and that she coveted for herself.     pyotr,     a plea spoken into his hair     [   ...   ]     soft-spoken in a way that scares her.     when had this maiden-like tenderness been born within her?     she slips closer,     crawling under the sheets with him;     beckoned closer by his peacefully sleeping body to enjoy the cloness of skin to skin.

          ❛   pyotr  ...   ❜     a smile creeps into the corners of her mouth,     a long curtain of dark hair shielding his face from the light:     let him sleep longer                         let him rest till he had his fill.   her finger is soft as she traces the line of his nose     [   his lips,   his cheekbones,     a forming bruise awarded to him by his heroism.   ]     and commit the pretty features to memory.     you’re so sweet darling spider of mine.     her lips soft when they lay themselves against his sleeping ones    * &&     she moves his limbs to crawl into his embrance.

          A CREATURE OF HABIT AND SLUGGISH REFLEXES,     vasilisa rests her cold nose against the nape of his neck and inhales the scent of his skin.     warm honey and cologne,     herbs and paper.     entirely and completely peter.     entirely and completely hers.

i am home to my heart,     @aracnyd​.

[jacobseedz]

Care pt.1

Professor Snape x Student!Reader

1340 words lol

Been feeling kinda shitty for the past months, so I thought I’d write something w my fav Prof :))) Hope you enjoy it, and I beforehand apologise for any errors, english is not my first language. I’M SORRY IF SEV IS SOOO OUT OF CHARACTER DKDKDK NOT EDITED SO IM REALLY SORRY BOUT THE ERRORS DKDJ LOVE YALL

Part 2   Part 3

Another bad, unproductive day. Nothing seemed to be quite alright for a long time. Nobody noticed your mood lately, but it was nothing new, you were used to it. Your parents were too busy, working for the Ministry of Magic. Your friends had their own problems, and the teachers? Why would they even give a damn..

You laid in bed for about twenty minutes, staring pointlessly at the ceiling. There were no classes to attend, it was Christmas after all. Everyone from your dormitory had left Hogwarts to spend the holidays with their family. Only you stayed behind, your parents wouldn't be home, so there was no point in leaving.

Looking to your left, you saw Jinx, your pet bat hanging upside down, soundlessly asleep. At least she could sleep with no care in the world. 

Deciding to roam around, you got up, maybe you'd stop for food in the kitchens. The kitchen elves were particularly fond of you, and always gave you a small snack or some sweets. As long as you were nice to the elves, they were happy to give food out.

With a sigh, you throw off the soft blanket. Your grandma gave it to you before passing away. It was a birthday gift.

Upon the last memory of her, tears welled up in your eyes, which you quickly wiped away. She was your biggest supporter, teacher, and the only close family... until death came for her. And that was the breaking line.. You felt stupid, crying and walking down the hall, where everyone could see. Even though it was nearly nighttime, and half of the students who stayed were probably in their dormitories by now. However, the ghosts were always around, some taunting you, some playing tricks, and some being indifferent. 

The closer the kitchen got, the faster you started wiping the tears away. Finally, able to breathe properly, you put on a small smile, and entered the area. Two elves greeted with warm smiles. They never said a word to you, not that it was a problem. Without a word, just a wink one of them gave you a long bar of chocolate, skittles and a bottle of chocolate milk. 

"Thank you.." you whispered. You left with a wave, still smiling softly. Now you just had to find a place to sit down.

Two more turns, and you found yourself before the staircase leading to the dungeons. It was one of your favourite places. Whenever you felt sad or just exhausted with life you came there. Sometimes you managed to cross paths with your professor, however you prayed to Dumbledore that he was already down there. It would've been an embarrassment if he'd see you in such state.

Munching on your treats, tears began flowing down again. This year was just so terrible for you. Your grandma passed away, your grades got worse, you parents were always working and your friends just stopped caring.

Loud footsteps echoed in the empty corridor. Before you could wipe your face, Professor Snape came into view, a nasty scowl on his face. Upon seeing you, his expression changed, it softened a little bit. 

Since he started teaching you, he saw great potential, not once did you make a mistake in brewing a potion or on a test. You were always the first one to give it back, or answer a tricky question on many lessons. He liked your passion about potions, always approaching it with delicacy and great precision. 

And you never spoke any ill words about him, quite on the contrary, you defended him handful of times. And it warmed his cold heart, making him put down the tough layers he built around himself, just for you. On free periods, you came to his classroom, offering your help in arranging the cupboard or preparing for his next lesson, like bringing important jars and such. 

Students noticed how you became the only favourite student, always going soft on you, never giving a snarky comment, only small praises, sometimes even a smirk, although barely noticable for others. 

"OH.. Professor-" you started, getting up. Your cheeks heat up, embarrassment washing over you. 

"Come along, Y/N." he spoke quietly, going down the stairs, towards his office. 

Not wasting much time, you walked behind him. Vision still blurred from the tears, you took careful steps, afraid you'd fall and break your bones. 

You didn't know if you should curse Dumbledore or actually thank him. Maybe Snape's company would actually cheer you up, or worsen your mood. 

"Alohomora..." he muttered, letting you in first with a small nod. 

You went further in, sitting down on the couch near the fireplace,and opposite Snape's armchair. It was like a ritual, most of your holidays you spent there. Severus would always make tea for both of you, and sit down by the fireplace. Some days were in comfortable silence, just enjoying each others company, and on some days you'd make small talk, or discuss many topics. But it never felt forced.

"Green tea, as always I presume?" he questioned, raising a brow. 

"Yes, that would be lovely, thank you." 

He nodded, turning the kettle on. You smiled, it was nice to have someone show a little bit interest in your well-being.

"How are the first years?" you asked, staring into the fire, pushing your hands out trying to warm them.

"Horrid. Not one brat knew what I would get if I added root of Asphodel to an infusion of wormwood.." he exclaimed, rolling his eyes.

"HA! Easy. Draught of Living Death." you shouted triumphantly.

"Precisely. Well done." he praised, smirking. You looked down, blushing madly. He knew it would lighten your mood a little bit.

"It couldn't be that bad though? I heard Jack got better in potions.."

Severus let out an annoyed sigh. "He just made the potion explode. Instead of cutting the Sopophorus bean while making Felix Felicis , he should've smashed it, brings out the juice more. Damn dunderhead .."

"Oof, well, next time I see him, I'll tutor him a little bit."

Severus handed you the tea, sitting on the armchair, taking a sip of his own one. You handed him the other half of the chocolate bar.

"Don't bother... How are your parents?"

You offered a weak smile. "Good, busy as always, but working for the Ministry is like that, so what can I say."

"How have you been lately, professor?" you questioned, looking into his eyes.

"I've told you many times before, call me Severus." he gave a small smile, making your heart melt instantly. "Good, although the holidays aren't my favourite, I prefer that muggle tradition called Halloween."

"Oh Merlin! Me too! Especially when the elves make pumpkin pasties and delicious cranberry punch." your laugh was like a beautiful melody to the dark-haired man.

"Ah, yes. Though the idea of scaring those isolent brats is just too tempting to pass." he smirked.

He frowned quickly. It threw you off a bit.

"I've noticed your grades getting worse. Minerva approached me before the christmas break. She worries about you, as do the other teachers. And I." he said softly. "You were always a top student. What changed?"

Tears welled up in your eyes for the milionth time. The teachers actually care? Professor McGonagall even came to Severus?

So lost in your thoughts you didn't realise Severus sat beside you, his worried gaze on you.

"I'm sorry.." you managed to whisper, before heavy sobs took over your body.

The cold man instantly took you into his warm embrance, caressing your soft hair, rocking you back and forth. Who would've thought that a man like Severus Snape would ever hug someone and try to make their every problem dissapear, because he cares so deeply. You really wreaked your way into his heart, that actually lied existed, but under many layers of thick walls.

"Shhh. It's alright. We're here, I'll help you as much as I can, and so will others. Don't worry." he promised. 

You pushed your head into the crook of his neck, hugging him as tightly as he was you.

"Thank you.."

[in-somnis-verita]

MELTDOWN .II

is any of this for real.... or not?

 struck down cities, debris covering wherever those tiny feet stepped on. A beam of bright light piercing through the sky and through her skull, bringing bare knees to meet a cruel, cold ground and two tarnished appendages to grip tightly locks of violet strands. Ichor, warm and vivid, ran down from her forehead, from those 𝘏��𝘓𝘠 crosses, and down her hands and arms; the blood mingling itself with the heavy tears which didn't seem to cease rolling down her cheeks.

 a loud, sharp scream echoed through the tempest and through the remnants of man-made constructions crumbling down to earth and oh, how she wished for them to fall on top of her; burying her and her conscience under brick and under dust, never to be found again. It was wrath, and it was resentment, that smashed her under the weight of her own irate heart. HOW COULD THEY? ━ how could mankind put up a fight against THE TRUE APOSTLE OF GOD ?! such blasphemy, what sense of faux power could have led HUMANITY astray ?!

 INNOCENCE, IT WAS ITS FAULT.

all of this misery, all of this destruction, all of this despair.

if it hadn't existed, they, wouldn't have had to fight it, they wouldn't have had to bring this FUCKED UP WORLD to its demise and to its knees, pleading for a mercy that would never come again.

 OPHELIA, an unknown voice, yet so familiar from a distant reality reached out, but who was ophelia? Optics snapped open, black, sharp fingernails undug themselves from her own flesh as she let her arms relax by her body's side. OPHELIA, it broke through again, and she raised her head to look around, but no one came into sight, but as the beam of light wrapped itself around the sky and the world beneath, she could, with parted lips and through eyes brimming with tears, appreciate for the first time the 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘺 in it.

 whether it had been genuine or if it had simply been a coping mechanism, she didn't know: but as she witnessed the impending end of the world arriving, as certain as the embrace of death, as she  saw as light slowly faded and the distant sound of waves violently crashing was closer and closer, she stood up to her feet and stretched her arms, beholding the meaning of this life. And LAUGHTER erupted from the girl's throat. It was pained and it was humourless, but it came from the relief of knowing, deep within her core, that soon enough, all would be over.

 OPHELIA, once more, and the figure she had spent the last months fearing, running away from, avoiding, blank with an permanent grin etched upon its visage, opened its infinite arms to her.

 and she let herself fall into them.

 ah, now she could remember.

she was Ophelia, wasn't she? a name, given to her at birth, by her mother, the sweetest, most resilient woman she had ever known and who called for her, desperately, two hands firmly set on her shoulders and a terrified look spread all across her visage. Did she know? Had she seen the end of the world as well?

 she hadn’t, had she?

 ━ ❝ a nightmare, ❞ she stated, looking at her palish daughter in the eye, and she could only nod, in silence. This time around, there were no gasping for air, there was no errant heart on the verge of tearing bone and skin to escape her chest, there were no screams. This time there was only a chin resting upon the woman's shoulder, as she took her in her warm embrance, and a faint hand coming to touch her back, brief and featherly, as though it hadn't really been there. ━ ❝ t'was just a nightmare, my little mouse. ❞

 and finally, as she gazed the reflection on the mirror that stared back at her with aureate eyes, the pain was gone.

 and she knew: that place, that woman, that house were no longer hers to live in. It was time to go, and it was time to find the remaining apostles.

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part 𝐈𝐈/𝐈𝐈𝐈 of the awakening of the noah

[iknowyoubutyoudontknow]

The Push

Sometimes all people need is a push.

Humans can do great things.

They like challenge and achieve things that could be impossible for every other race, the only problem that such intelligence brings is the constant need to doubt on themselves. So, some of them need a little push for their confidence, but when do you know its alright to give that push?

This Story will teach you.

My friend was always a bit shy, she grew up like this, so it wasn't a big Suprise for me that I needed to push her confidence a bit here and there.

So, she was happy, you saw it on her face, the way she smiled and how her eyes shone in the light. Her hair was kissed by the autumn leaves and her eyes shone like the silent sea itself. She wasn't skinny, not at all, but not fat either, average you could say.

But oh, oh, so complex inside.

Her grades were pretty good, except biology, but it wasn't something that made her feel stupid. Sadly the others didn't saw it like that, no, for them it was an excuse; to 'test' her, to give her the feeling of uselessness, breaking her confidence and innocence. To destroy the loving heart that held such warmth that it could burn you in such sweet embrance that it would be sinful.

The schooldays were long, tiring her ever so quickly, always stealing a piece of her once warm heart that it grew cold and heavy. She had me though, I tried my best, giving her the push when she really needed one, but I was still learning when to give it. So I sometimes miscalculated, giving it at the wrong time, making everything worse or madder, I still tried. For her.

But one Individuum just wasn't enough.

Her parents love her greatly, she was their only draughter, a gem for them. Always friendly and helpful, they tried to make it as easy as possible for her, knowing that school drew her engery.

Reading was her drug, to escape the gray that hung over the city and dive into the adventurous tales of a creative mind. Her eyes held a wishful gleam as they flew with practised ease over the pages. The soft music drowned out the stressful city life which poured in from the open window. In her mind danced characters to the songs, swung their body's to the melodies, collided with the bass and hold laughing onto each other.

But she was bored.

Days repeated, the same routine over and over again, so the colours were lost to faded, things became monochrom. She wouldn't stop though, she had plans. She wished for Freedom, for a life played with her rules, she as the game master and her daily life as game. A dog as friend, that's what she wanted. Someone to follow her without doubt.

Someone else to give her a push.

And no, no, she didn't want to hurt me with that, no, she was scared that she annoys me. No matter what I said, she just wouldn't belive me, but oh dear, I would give her a push every time she needed one.

Not long in the holidays and she visited her grandparents, they had a dog and lived more outside.

Guess what?

A miracle happened for her; she fell in love. It was so- Ironic, she felt free and wild, it's strong and soft at the same time, calling her in and pushing her away. So deep and sweet but at the same time Shallow and salty.

But she loved every second with it, although she grew sadder, knowing that she had to leave again, going back to the monochrome life, living her routine, reading books, getting good grades, feeling cold and useless, coming back to me.

Again, not because she doesn't like me, but I had at least a chance to survive the harshness of life, without her by my side. To me it would seem impossible. She wouldn't believe me when I tried to assure her otherwise. I still tried unwavering.

They don't like me, her parents I mean, but that's okay, at least I'm there for their daughter, so they accept our friendship, for her. We were friends for a long time, since kindergarden I believe, she was a very lonely child.

As she came back she told me about it, the feeling wich let her heart be warm once more, but she was sad.

Her smile faded and the once autumn kissed hair fell graceless over her shoulders it hurt me to see her like that. I pushed, in hope to get the smile I so loved back.

And I did the right thing.

She would go, travel back to her love, rewind time to once again lay in its arms, and she would stay. School isn't everything in life she said, books aren't either, forget the other students, her heart called, and she was overrun by emotions.

Nervous to see them again, scared they would reject her, panicked someone will stop her, but nobody did, because nobody cared, she loved every second of her short freedom.

And she stood before them, I still saw that she was nervous, her hands were sweating, the wind played with her hair as she looked down on hope to escape the eyes of other persons.

She needed a push, so I gave her one.

And then she fell.

Her love drew her in, holding her fiercely in an embrance of death without escape.

She kissed back and gave her air for them, not caring, for she was going home.

And so she drowned.

Because I pushed.

And at once I dissappeared

She had no need for a friend that was never even really there to care, Imagination is after all the minds strongest power.