My Writing - Blog Posts

FINALLY WRITING SOMETHING AGAIN !

What better to write than something with Chuuya :3 (this is the one that got randomly deleted 😭 and its kinda shit, but oh well)

Chuuya x gn! reader (implied relationships)

Genre: Fluff, i'd guess sfw, just a kiss, and VERY SLIGHTLY suggestive, like a very minute amount

Synopsis: Dragging him to bed >_<

Word count: 395

Fine for all to read :3

The melodic hum of Chuuya’s whistling carried through the small apartment from the balcony. Smoke curled around his light orange waves as he stared out at the warm sun outside, setting behind a wall of wispy clouds.

He tensed momentarily, his whole body alight with sudden alarm as he felt a pair of small hands sliding around his waist, before his thin pink lips curled into a smile, it was his partner, not a threat. He could relax.

“Hello dear, what are you doing up so late.” Chuuya whispered cooly, taking another big inhale of his cigarette as he groaned softly, feeling your face nuzzle into the crook of his neck, your soft skin melting against his. His free hand reached up to pat ur head softly, letting a gloved finger twirl around the strands.

“You weren’t in bed yet…I was getting lonely.” You mumbled, clutching onto him tighter, and tugging him back a bit.

“Ah…yeah…I guess I was just thinking…Its quite calming out here.” Chuuya mumbled, his strong body barely moving as he was tugged by you.

“..are you alright ?”

Chuuya didn’t answer that, he just stared ahead at the sky before he slowly put out his cigarette on the ash tray, the soft hiss of it breaking the silence. He turned in your hug to wrap his arms back around your body, pulling you closer.

“Lets get to bed.” He whispered, his lips brushing against your ear as you two walked back inside, locked in each other’s arms.

As they reached the dimly lit bedroom, Chuuya took a deep calming inhale. It smelt like safety, the scent of you and the linger scent of candles that had been burnt before, flooded his nose. It looked like his, his trinkets and clothes around, your clothes strewn across and your own trinkets mixing around with his. It felt calm, his shoulders relaxing even more as his fingers dug more into your shirt, his socks rested against the warm, beige carpet.

His smiled became gentle, he glanced at you before taking your chin between his index and thumb and leaning closer, his lips pressing against yours in a sweet, chaste kiss, his tongue just peeking out to lick at the soft plumpness of your lips. He pulled you towards the bed, your bodies sinking into it, arms still linked around each other's waists.

:D

Pretty short and quick, but i think its alright :3 I lob Chuuya sm, i would sell my soul js to kiss this man 🥺 /hj

hello, i have characters for bad idea

Khonsu

Hero, Generation III

Civilian identity: Issac [REDACTED]

Wavy hair(undercut), dyed dark red, and brown eyes

Positives: Analytical, open-minded, objective, charismatic

Negatives: Insensitive, solitary, repressed, restless

Forever tired dad to three(3) chaotic heroes-in-training

Manipulates lunar energy, often called a werewolf

Trained in Project [REDACTED]

Helios

Villain, Generation III

Civilian identity: Connor [REDACTED]

Curly hair, natural black w/ violet ends, and gray eyes

Positives: Brilliant, practical, perceptive, direct

Negatives: Risk-prone, defiant, impatient, merciless

Is probably a masochist but strongly denies it

Telekinesis, and manipulates fire and solar energy, is called a phoenix

Trained in Project [REDACTED]

Shu

Hero informant, Generation II

Civilian identity: Benett "Benji" Clay

Wavy hair, natural dark brown, and hazel eyes

Positives: Enthusiastic, good-natured, curious, driven

Negatives: Disorganized, people-pleasing, nosy, gullible

Khonsu's kind of sort of brother

Manipulates the wind, isn't called any sort of mythical animal

Trained in Project Brimstone

Moryana

Vigilante, Generation IV

Civilian identity: Penelope Sosa

Straight hair, dirty blonde, and dark brown eyes

Positives: Supportive, hardworking, rational, reliable

Negatives: Reserved, overcommitted, altruistic, disrespectful

Has been subjected to horoscope readings, would not recommend

Manipulates water, is probably a siren

Trained in Project Ether

Tiamat

Villain, Generation III

Civilian identity: Makayla [REDACTED]

Curly hair, black, and brown eyes

Positives: Observant, creative, pragmatic, magnetic

Negatives: Unfocused, easily bored, sensitive, vicious

Khonsu and Shu's kind of sort of sister

Manipulates water and storms, is definitely a siren

Trained in Project [REDACTED]

Nyx

Vigilante, Generation II

Civilian identity: Kameron Caye

Wavy hair, light brown, and green-gray eyes

Positives: Empathetic, passionate, idealistic, generous

Negatives: Unrealistic, vulnerable, self-critical, isolated

Friends-with-benefits with Shu, supposedly no feelings involved

Manipulates darkness and stellar energy, probably a vampire

Trained in Project Brimstone

I might be posting short stories introducing them as best as I can because writing is about as easy as me balancing myself on a thin circle. It won't make sense and it definitely won't make sense. Yes, I just wrote that twice. Yes, I am slightly sleep-deprived.

The gods have made many mistakes and their greatest was giving me a flesh suit to inhabit.

thank you

I was once in a place where no one could hear my screams. My screams were loud once, loud and demanding and begging to be set free.

But they grew weak, growing weaker as my hope to be heard was lost. I was trapped, I didn't know where I was, time did not exist, and I was alone.

My children... my little twins... would they even remember me?

...

There is a small crack beneath my fingers. It feels rough, the first texture I've felt in so long. There is no feeling in the darkness, nothing to cling onto, nothing to cry into.

The crack grows and grows. I see flashes of violet and swirls of red-orange that highlight my palms, the first light in hundreds, thousands of years maybe.

The crack becomes so large that it breaks and two hands reach out in the darkness as the familiar burn of lightning and flames crackle on my skin, illuminating the shadows.

I take them and my screams are released; a small, weary, liberated cry is among them:

"Thank you."

you could hear the creaking, bloodthirsty voice, calling out to you by name. you could hear his yellow smile, tongue licking his lips at the thought of finally getting to the main course.

your friends? simple appetizers. not as filling but the slasher ached for more and he was ready to enjoy his meal.

oh, how naive he is.

a dark grin slides across your face, eyes red with hunger and teeth gnashing with delight. did he not know? did he not know what a real monster is, how a real monster would hunt?

poor, poor man.

oh, what a shame it will be to tear his throat out, cut open his gut, and feast on his intestines, becoming drunk on his blood and the flesh of his lungs.

oh, what a shame it will be.

you slowly open the closet door, your stomach growling in impatience.

it was time for the hunt to begin.

It started as a spur of the moment trip with your friends. Despite your best efforts you are the only one left alive and the slasher is closing in on your position. While you lament the loss of your friends now that you are alone… Now you can show the slasher what a REAL monster looks like.

Do whatever the fuck you want with your art and body forever and ever, until you die.

today's fic writer energy is

His Eyes Speak by forever_42 / foreverforty2

- Star Trek Fanfic - Vulcan/Human - Male/Female -

FIC NOW COMPLETE. (art / clothing design by me)

click on the pic for the higher quality image

Fonts used: Sword, Gill Sans Light Italic.

I consider myself a microinfluencer in the way I can get ten to fifteen people to consume a piece of media if I’m annoying enough about it

Chapter 3 of Rakul is up! Mind The Tags.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/37363276/chapters/93232891

Chapter 2 of Rakul is UP

[ CONTENT WARNING: NONCON ]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/37363276/chapters/93232891

G/T Fairytale

I'm currently writing this very elaborate g/t au fanfiction and I ended up making this as a sort of, fun exercise to get the plot down for the first act? Anyway, I turned it into a fairytale and it kinda works as a stand-alone thing, I like it a lot so I wanted to share it!

A Folktale for the Big and Small

Once, there was a young man in a world of giants. 

Eager to search the world for what little adventure it might offer, he left his small town in hopes of bigger stories. 

But in his search, rather than stories he found Massive, Vicious beasts. One such beast stole him away and locked him up in a tower so that he might never breathe free air again.

The young man, small as he was, passed many days and nights in the big bad man’s house, and feared that he was doomed to stay there forever. But, just when hope seemed at it’s lowest; The Big, Bad Giant’s sister helped the Young man escape. 

Go, she told him. And may my evil brother never find you, she said, before helping the Young man into the bag of another visiting giant.

The sister had promised the young man that this giant would be good to him, kind and honest. But the young man, too troubled by his imprisonment of the big bad man, did not take her heed. He hid himself from this new giant, even as they left the Vicious man’s tower together. 

Even as this new Giant brought them both to his home. 

The young man snuck out of this Giant's bag and hid, hoping for the perfect moment to escape. But to his horror, this new house seemed just as much a cruel, locked-up tower as that of the Big Bad Giant’s,. There was no way he could escape! 

Many days and nights he spent there, too, with no chance of escape. But in his stay here, this new Giant didn’t seem so bad. Not as bad as the Big Bad Man from before, at least.

He was clever, The young man could see when he watched the new giant talk to his giant friends. He was a talented cook, who loved to draw, and detested the rude. The young man rather liked this giant, he thought—brave and clever, never letting slip any discourtesy. Everything a gentleman should be.

As the young man stayed hidden in this new tower, over his many days and nights he began to grow attached to the place, to the New Giant. Eventually, he didn’t want to escape as much anymore, he even considered staying. 

 But the young man had grown complacent, clumsy even—leaving traces of his presence all over this new Giant’s house. And when the new giant finally realized what was going on, he was furious!

In a blind rage at such a discourtesy, at an unwelcome guest making a home in his house without so much as a word, he tore the tower apart to find this wrongdoer. 

But the young man was still clever as ever, especially after all his years living with the big, bad, giant. He managed to escape the new giant’s grasp, even if by no more than a hair. When The New Giant had looked in all the places he could think to, checked every cranny and opened every nook, he gave up. 

After all, he couldn’t continue to ruin his home all for one discourteous guest. Perhaps, with all this ruckus, the intruder had left and his search was fruitless after all..

But the young man had not left. He was frightened and reminded terribly of his old captor, but he could not leave even if he tried. 

 Still, the young man knew well that he had wronged this giant—-so he left him a note. Apologizing. Though he couldn’t leave his message without reprimanding the Giant for all of the hardship he had put the young man through—that was one dreadfully nasty fit of rage!

A little more sure in his ability, after evading the giant once, the young man grew more bold. He left traces behind, but in all the wrong places. He watched as the Giant tried and tried to find him—but he was always one step ahead. 

This young man had been watching for so long, that he could imagine anything the giant might do, and soon enough even the giant realized it. 

But the giant, the young man did not know, was lonely. Perhaps he had visitors, and perhaps he enjoyed their company, perhaps he had more people to converse with than he could ever wish for—but he was lonely.

His guests could never truly understand him. Could not see him. This young man, although it was hard to admit it, filled a hole in his heart that had been empty for many years. This trespasser, the young man, knew him. Saw him. 

And before long, where once the Giant had been filled with fury for the young man, he found love for him. 

He loved every clue. He loved every small, out-of-place book, every cup, pen or chess piece.

He loved it all. 

Without ever once seeing his face, this new giant loved the small young man as much as one could possibly love another. 

Eventually, the giant wondered if he stopped trying to hunt out the young man, if he would show himself. So he played along—He pulled the books open to his favorite parts, circled his favorite quotes. He filled the shifted cup with tea. Placed a blank sheet of paper beneath the discarded pen. Moved the next chess piece.

I am not angry, anymore, he tried so desperately to tell the young man. But he would not show himself.

Not after the big bad giant from before. 

The young man liked the giant, he enjoyed quotes and the tea, he drew for the giant and played chess with him. 

But he did not trust him. 

One night, their dance was interrupted. A giant, sent by the Big, Bad, man from the young man’s past had arrived. He was there to take the Young man back. 

He stormed their tower of books and tea and struck the young man’s giant, smashing in his legs and forcing him to the ground. 

The young man watched in horror, for he did not know what to do. But, he could not simply sit back and let this life he had so happily made for himself go. He would not let the big, bad giant take his drawings and his chess pieces from him. 

His giant lay on the floor, staring up at the intruder with wide, vicious eyes, fearful that these moments would be his last—but those eyes did not scare the young man. His viciousness did not faze him. They were his to protect.

With nothing more than a sewing needle, stolen from the Big Bad Giant a long, long time ago, the young man lept from the highest point in the tower he could find. With no small amount of strength or courage, the young man drove his blade into the back of the intruder’s neck, killing him instantly. 

He and the intruder crumbled to the ground, a great, booming crash flooding the tower at their fall—but the giant, his giant, heard none of it.

All he could hear was his heart, beating in loud in his ears. Still too hurt to walk, the giant could do nothing but watch as his beloved guest fell, killed, and crumbled.

You are beautiful, he managed to tell the young man, who was suddenly closer than he had ever been before—within arms reach.

You are so beautiful. It was all he could say, because he’d never beheld so much beauty in so small a thing, in nothing larger either though. 

The young man, after defending his giant with his life, finally came closer. Approached his host and wished to beg for forgiveness, but could not force the words out of himself. 

Because he himself was too busy thinking about how beautiful the giant was. They met halfway, the Young man taking hold of the giant’s fingers and then realizing something very, very special indeed.

He loved the giant too, even if it would take a long, long time, before he could ever tell him.

~The End~

well, I been thinking about it a lot, and I kinda made my little list, and, I wanted to share it with you.

I been only thinking about the first four in order of numbers (i don't remember the names I'm so sorry) and I been thinking on the first being some sort of cute mole, like, you know the first one is little a full of fur so, I thought it would be nice, the second, since is the only poor girl between all the man's there, I been thinking about a nymph, like Greek mythology ones, the third one I know it's a robot, but I thought would be cooler adding some extra nice detail, and about the odd god inside of it, I been thinking of him as a tiny red demon who lives in a robot, about the 4, that if I remember well is Quitela one, been only thinking about a rat that all, but I already draw him, only gotta colour him

(that's the paper draw I did)

And, now I got also an idea for the one from the 9, like, him but is an elf eheh, well, that all, I hope I gave you some ideas, I be happy to draw something with you if you feel like to💕

Are the god of destruction any different from the originals? Like, they change much on look or directly completely on kind and person?

Havent really thought of them tbh but i know damn well that Beerus and Champa has more egyptian stuff Rumsshi is MUCH more bigger than he canonically is Heles has more noticeable muscles Belmod is a LOT more clown like all that i can think of rn

Spring with the burn of the Sun that gets lost in the wintry winds of the shade, the bloom of a million flowers from the cracked earth of the desolate days of the past, the renewal of life and spirit, the wandering feet changing paths enchanted by the bounty of nature, the hope that germinates from the ruins of past, the crunch of fallen yellow leaves beneath my boots, the green of budding leaves that dominate the pupil of the eye, the time for choosing between cold coffee (probable cold and cough) and hot lemon tea (probable burn of the throat), the joys of laying on the lawn with grass sticking to hoddies that would bid farewell soon (unless you're weird enough to wear 'em in summer cause HOODIES duh), the lazy lay in sun cause cats do have a lot in common with humans...

So I'm writing a Soukoku fanfic and-

Good job, Google Docs, Good job. Because Chuuya's first flying by Dazai's face makes so much more sense than his fist. Yeah, totally. I understand.

「Hate You, Love You」 ʙᴜɴɢᴏᴜ sᴛʀᴀʏ ᴅᴏɢs ғᴀɴғɪᴄ

Short rewritten excerpt from Chapter 9:

sᴏᴜᴋᴏᴋᴜ ғʟᴜғғ

~𝙻.𝚁. 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚝

︾︾︾︾

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

"So, where did you go yesterday?" Chuuya asked through crunches as he ate some cereal. He looked up at the brunette across the small table from him, who began to grin. "Dazai?"

"Hehe, don't worry about it." Dazai continued to curl his lips as he took a bite out of a piece of toast.

"That's only making me worry about it more. Please, where were you?" Chuuya whined. He put his spoon down to look at Dazai, now getting concerned as well as annoyed.

"It top secret Chuu-Chuu!" Dazai yelled as he dramatically grabbed the butter knife and held it in the air as if to prove a point.

"Don't call me that and answer my question, jackass."

Dazai dramatically gasped. "My heart! I've been wounded! How could you call me such a foul name!" Dazai grabbed his chest as he flopped back in his chair, and Chuuya did everything he could to keep himself from slamming his own face onto the table and into his food, he had just gotten out of the shower after all.

"Damn it Dazai, just tell me." Chuuya said with a sigh as he rubbed his temples, and wondered how the hell he fell for someone like Dazai.

"Fine fine." Dazai said as he calmly sat back down like a normal person, putting the jam covered toast down on the elegant plate in front of him. "I was doing some research." Chuuya raised a suspicious eyebrow and questioned, "About...?"

Dazai then dramatically threw his arms in the air as if what we was about to say was the best, most revelitional thing ever. "I wanted to find a way to make my Chuu-Chuu happy! And I found it!"

Chuuya sat up straight and looked at Dazai attentively, now more curious and slightly confused than anything. He knew the younger man wouldn't stop with the nickname, and that wasn't the battle he was choosing to fight at this moment. "Go on...." He prompted tentatively.

"One moment!" Dazai sang as he got up and went to the fridge, leaving Chuuya unable to see what he was doing behind the silver insulated refrigerator door, but he didn't take long. As he walked back to the small table, he held whatever he grabbed behind his back, and as his wicked grin grew, so did Chuuya's suspicion. "This!" Dazai said as he slammed the milk carton he was hiding behind his back down on the table. "If my Chibi drink's some of this every day, he'll get taller, and he'll be happier!"

Chuuya's aura grew dark as he slowly stood up, his piercing blue eyes downcast and hidden from sight. His silk purple robe began to float slightly with a scarlet hue as he activated his ability. The spoon in his hand snapped in half with a grudge before it flew towards Dazai with such force, that after Dazai smoothly dodged it, it stuck at least half way into the wall. "You little shit!" The redhead snarled through gritted teeth as he threw the milk at Dazai, and again Dazai dodged and it, making a mess on Chuuya's sparkling kitchen floor.

The brunette began running to avoid Chuuya's wrath, laughing all the while. "Haha, no~ you're the little one! AHH- ANGRY CHIBI!"

"GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!!" Chuuya screamed full of rage, while arming himself with more food floating behind him like bullets aimed directly at the cackling brunette as he ran around, dodging the oncoming assault of dairy, grain, and produce based bullet hell attacks.

⋆ Black and Orange Thinking

⋆ Dog

⋆ Untethered

⋆ The Soldier, The Sinner 

⋆  Ballet

Maybe in another life I can be gentle. Maybe there my soul is kind.

i'm sorry for the awful audio of the spoken word, i am not sorry for my emotion.

An interlude in the short series I've been doing, instead focusing on when Rane first started realising her feelings for Sophia.

An important first

Very few occasions call for anything beside our uniforms, since they've become the main outfit everyone wears at the base, so the first time I saw Sophia in a dress was a couple years after her release from the hospital, the pale flowers dotted across the billowy fabric, her light brown hair blonde in the sunlight. I thought I had caught an illness when she smiled at me, that laugh bubbling out of her like the prettiest bell. I didn't understand what I was feeling, the way she made my heart flutter in my chest and the air catch in my throat, until much later.

When she tried to ask what was wrong, I couldn't answer, any words dying in my throat with a strangled whimper. My face burned as I looked anywhere but at her, though I couldn't tell her that it wasn't from embarrassment, or why I didn't want her to see it. I didn't know how to tell her that she was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen, how I wanted to see her like this more often.

My reaction upset her, but I grabbed her arm before she could leave, my touch as gentle as a butterfly's wings. I didn't know how to explain the sensations she was calling, so I apologized instead and asked her to stay.

I spent that entire night trying to figure out my feelings, sleepless in pursuit of what ailed me. I spoke with the guys about it the next morning, only to end up flustered when Don decided to start teasing me. Sergei chuckled before scolding him, and took me aside, giving me a moment to calm down before asking me more questions about my ailment.

I answered honestly, that my mind was still picturing the way the wind blew her dress in such a way to hug her body, that my face catches fire at the memory of her smile and that my breath is stolen by the memory of her laugh. He asked if I've felt these things before, and it gave me pause. I went to say that I hadn't, but then I realized that I had over the past couple years, just never this strong before.

When I admitted this, my voice a soft whisper into the light of the rising sun, he gave me a warm, knowing smile. He ruffled my hair, chuckling as he told me that I wasn't sick. I asked him what the problem was, why I felt such odd things about my friend, and he just smiled, telling me that while I might see it as a problem now, I won't always feel that way.

Another short featuring young Rane meeting her team for the first time.

A new friend, a fellow outcast.

I never understood the need for so many people for these things. Birthdays, graduations, promotions, even something as simple as the weekend drew humans together. I don't even know what the occasion was. The music is too loud, the smells overwhelmingly numerous musks and perfumes, my head is starting to ache from the combination, and worse yet, I am the only Whisper here so far.

Yet I couldn't leave. This was an intentional choice by my Dant, another test to see how I'd react, to see if I caved. It was stupid, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me run away like a kicked dog. I stand in one o the corners, watching the room with a quietly as I study the people in it.

Eventually I notice someone approaching me, and I have to look him over twice just to be sure I'm not seeing things. He's huge, easily towering over everyone else in the room, with broad shoulders and a build that looks like it was sculpted by artists. His pale blue eyes stood out against his dark skin, kindness sparkling in them despite his face being neutral.

He stops a short distance from me, and waves lightly. Confused, i simply stare before giving a half wave back, but he just smiles softly before starting to sign, "It's loud, isn't it?"

I nod, considering how to respond before signing back, "Very. I'm getting a headache form the sounds and smells."

He nods, and gestures for me to follow him, which I do more out of curiosity than anything. He leads me to a balcony looking over the Dex, and the reprieve from the party is an instant relief. I breathe in the fresh air, leaning over the balcony as I listen to the wind blowing over the base.

The man waves again to get my attention, signing once I look over. "Better?" He smiles at my nod, continuing, "That's good. I never really liked these, either. I'm Niko, the mule for your unit, should Sergei's request get approved."

I nod, looking out towards the lake before answering. "I'm Rane."

That's when I heard the oddest thing. A whispered voice, as deep as the rumble of a quake but as warm as the heat from a fire, "He did say you don't talk much…"

I look over, curious about what I heard. "Who did?"

Niko looks surprised, a mix of awe and confusion filling his yes before he finally whispers in that deep, rich voice, "You understand me…?"

@bartylily-microfics | april 2 | rainstorm | 828 words | warnings: none

After the Rain

Thunder rumbled in the distance the moment Lily stepped outside the library, dark clouds stretching across the summer sky. She quickened her pace, hoping to reach the bus stop before the rain started. The ozone in the air tingled her nose in the best way possible, sky and earth intermingling in her lungs. She loved that feeling just before the storm—before the world fractured in a burst of lightning. It was like standing on the edge of a building, never leaning too far to one side or the other.

Lily had lived her whole life like this, on the verge of explosion. But she had everything perfectly under control.

Flood poured from the sky. Raindrops hit her skin as she ran to the nearest awning, pulling her jacket over her head. It was just her luck that she chose to take a tote bag today, her computer and books were going to get wet. Lily leaned against the wall of a closed cafe, watching the rainstorm unravel before her eyes.

The streets were deserted, as always in August in their town, everyone having gone on vacation. Except for—

“Fancy seeing you here, Evans.” Barty's voice was dripping with sarcasm, a smirk tugging at his lips. He ran his hand through his wet hair, strands of green-dyed hair escaping through his fingers.

Lily kinda wanted to kick him. 

“What are you doing here, Crouch? I thought you would be on the French Riviera this time of year,” Lily retorted, more out of habit than anything else.

She and Barty weren't exactly friends, rather their friends were friends (and some of them were dating depending on the week) and they had known each other since elementary school. They had some sort of unofficial academic competition and Lily hated his guts most of the time.

Lily had accompanied him to throw eggs at his father's company at the beginning of the year. Barty had brought her food every night during exam periods.

“I bailed,” Barty shrugged as he sat down next to her, pressing his shoulder against hers. “There's no place I'd rather be than here.” 

Lily's laugh caught in her throat, shivering as her wet denim jacket clung to her skin, drops of water running down the back of her neck. Her half-undone braid fell pathetically over her shoulder, and she'd caught a glimpse of her smudged eyeliner in the window earlier. 

She looked as tired as she felt, and school didn't start for another week.

“So, Lils,” Barty drawled, “what are you doing here? It's pretty dead this time of year.”

“I just wanted to be ready for the start of the year. I really need this full scholarship to go to college.” Lily replied. Two years ago, she would have rather died than admit this to Barty Crouch Jr, but if anyone could understand the crushing weight of expectations, it was him.

There was no pity, compassion, or disapproval in his eyes as he smiled at her, just understanding and amused fondness. “Looks like we'll be continuing our little date nights this year too.”

“Looks like it,” Lily said, realizing with a flutter how close Barty's face was to hers. He had a new piercing above his eyebrow. 

“I missed you this summer,” Barty said, his eyes lingering on her lips. 

Lifting her head, Lily straightened up to kiss Barty on the cheek before resting her head on his shoulder. She stared straight ahead, watching puddles form on the road, the occasional car driving through them and sending drops flying into the air, as she whispered. “Me too.”

The rain beat against the roof reassuringly and comfortingly as Barty put an arm around her shoulders. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and sticking one between his lips. His lighter flickered before lighting, the end of his cigarette igniting and Barty inhaled, throwing his head back. The tattoo on his throat stretched over his Adam's apple, disappearing beneath his white t-shirt.

“How’s your sister?” Barty asked, smoke escaping from his lips. 

“How's your father?” Lily retorted, playing with the rings on Barty's fingers.

The laughter they shared was bitter. Barty offered her his cigarette and Lily blew the smoke in his face playfully. Barty pinched her ribs and Lily doubled over, a laugh ripping out of her. 

“You should laugh more often,” Barty breathed into her ear, his lips grazing her skin.

Lily sighed contentedly, leaning into Barty's chest, a blissful smile illuminating her face. She stole the cigarette from Barty's hand again, letting it burn between her lips.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Crouch,” Lily said light-heartedly. 

"I wouldn't dare," Barty grinned lazily, tucking a strand of Lily's hair behind her ear. He flicked her dangling earring with his fingertip. “New earrings?” 

Lily shook her head affectionately, stealing another cigarette from Barty's pocket. Together they watched the rain fall and the sun rise behind the clouds, a rainbow forming above the buildings. 

Snippet Saturday !!

This is just an excuse to show you this new paragraph in my WIP that I'm so proud of. And if all goes well, you'll be able to see the full fic tomorrow ;)

"Three swords pierced his heart as he clung to Marco like a rock in the middle of the raging ocean, the grief he had been running from for nearly two years pouring over him like oil on a fire. He cried and cried, the cracks in his facade widening with each sob, pieces of him falling to the ground like a broken vase. He would have shattered if it weren’t for Marco’s arms around him to keep him whole — to keep him afloat."