Dean x Reader

Summary: What happens after you die on a hunt?

Warnings: Mentions of gore and death. Brief cursing. Also, angst.

Requested by me~ 

This will be a two part series. Part 2 shall be up soon!

Originally posted by chrissie-chan


Red was everywhere.

It was pouring out in uncontrollable amounts onto the concrete below your weak body. 

Your breaths got quieter as you saw more red. He was above you in an instance, trying anything to stop the red.

But, he couldn’t. You remember him crying out your name as you slipped away. 

They say you live your life flashes before your eyes before you die. Images of you, Sam, and Dean in the Impala singing loudly to Led Zeppelin appear. The images soon fade to another scene-you three were sitting on the couch watching a shitty chick flick. And then the last image came. The lingering touches, the soft gazes, the love you felt for Dean filled your heart. 

And then the red stopped. All you saw was black.


He watched your eyes glaze over as you huffed out your last breath. He watched your body still, he heard your heartbeat stop. 

It was supposed to be an easy hunt, just a simple werewolf case. Sam was still researching when the werewolf attacked you and Dean in an ally. Your gun had been knocked out of your hand, and Dean was laying on the ground half-unconscious. You noticed the beast target him, and before you could think, you threw yourself in front and all you saw was red.

Dean hardly remembers viciously ripping the werewolf to shreds with a silver knife. He hardly remembers Sam pulling him off your body. All he remembers is seeing your beautiful eyes once full of hope die out.

Days passed, weeks passed. Time still passed without you. But, to him, it felt like time stood still, forcing him to live in agony without you everyday. 

He drowned his sorrows in whisky and beer, until he was sure he’d die of alcohol poisoning. He’d become reckless on hunts, silently hoping he wouldn’t make this one out alive. He was empty without you.


The darkness consumes you as all pain melts away. It’s peaceful here, quiet.


You turn around towards the unfamiliar voice, seeing a woman with dark brown hair standing by you. “Who are you?”

“Tessa.” Dean’s reaper.

You eye her skeptically. “I’m guessing you want me to come with you?” you ask knowingly.

She nods. “Don’t stay here and become the thing you hunt.”

You desperately want to go, but you know you’d leave Dean behind. But a ticket to a forever destination sounds very tempting. 

Hesitantly, you take her outstretched hand and close your eyes, awaiting your final destination. Puzzled when nothing happens, you open your eyes to find her somewhat shocked one. 

Suddenly, a blinding light overthrows you. When you open your eyes, it’s bright and unfamiliar. When your eyes finally adjust to the light, you notice you’re in a hotel room. Was this just a dream?

You look for anything to find where you are, grinning when you see a pamphlet with the name of the hotel on it. 

When you try to grasp it, your hand goes right through it, surprising you. You try desperately to grab anything, but alas, no progress. Running your fingers through your hair, you pace around the room, but stop when you see your reflection in the mirror. 

You’re pale, and in the same outfit as the day you died. Then you notice the long deep scratch on your abdomen, dried blood along your shirt.

You were a spirit. 

A reaper came for you and you went with it, so why were you still here?

Suddenly, the door opens, revealing a very worn down Dean. You panic and try to hide, noticing your skin and body turn transparent. 

He apparently didn’t see you as he slumped on the bed after taking a drink of whisky. He lay and stared at the ceiling for a moment before pulling something out of his pocket.

When you see the familiar piece of jewelry, you’re hit with nostalgia. Dean had given you that bracelet on your birthday a few years back. He’d carved it himself, leaving a rough signature, much like the one in the Impala. You never took it off.

Your heart swells with emotion before you notice the lights flicker and Dean’s breath coming out in cold puffs. He seems to notice it too, grabbing a salt gun and holy water. 

“Who’s there?” he asks cautiously, circling the room. The gun frightens you a bit, and soon, it’s thrown on the ground away from him. Your powers were stronger than you thought. 

Before he can retrieve it, you make yourself visible. He almost drops the flask of holy water as he sees you.


Dean Tag List~ @prob8850 @skybinx-blog @torn-and-frayed @its-my-perky-nipples @trinityjadec @poemwriter98 @assbutt-jones-at-law @kalifosterxx @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @deanscherrypie @deandoesthingstome @kittenofdoomage @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @supernatural-jackles @donnaintx @aprofoundbondwithdean @umaakomton @danamarie2123-blog @mogaruke @kickasscas67

fantansizer  asked:

GOM competing for a girl's affection! ♡♡

Oh my god this is absolutely massive… IT’S JUST LIKE AN OTOME GAME OR SOMETHING BUT I REALLY ENJOYED WRITING IT uwu I hope you like it too! Thank you so much for requesting~

PS. Cookies for anyone who catches the John Tucker Must Die reference! I am actually a complete dork for chick flicks…

Your life has recently turned extremely topsy-turvy. The strangest things have been happening to you, of late, and you absolutely cannot fathom why.

It all started when you subbed in for your friend Momoi as the Generation of Miracles’ manager during a tournament, just for a week. She had assured you that your job wouldn’t have been anything worth worrying about, so you had accepted the offer. Why not? It was only a week, right?

You should have realized something was not right on that very first day, itself.

“I was kind of annoyed when I realized someone would be replacing Momocchi, but…” Kise Ryouta had said, eyes widening and blushing upon seeing you, “you are really cute, you know, [Name]-cchi…”

Midorima Shintarou had pushed his glasses up his face, scowling. “Stop ogling the girl, Kise.” But his intentions were, to an extent at least, subjective, for he had blushed as he observed you out of the corner of his eye, as well.

Murasakibara Atsushi, in all his imposing 2m giganticness, had leaned down, so close to your face that you had to skitter back in shock, to observe you a bit more thoroughly. “Huh… you look cute with a clipboard, [Name]-chin…”

Aomine Daiki had grinned at you, eyes filled with promise. “Ignore these losers, [Name]. You’re new around here, eh?” His next words had made you blush, especially considering the mischievous light in his expression. “I can show you a good time.”

Kuroko Tetsuya had tapped your shoulder, seemingly appearing out of nowhere and startling you out of your skin. He had given you a soft, gentle smile. “Sorry about my teammates, [Name]-san. They can be a bit crude.”

Akashi Seijuro had greeted you last, regarding you with hooded eyes, saying your name in a voice so silky and smooth that it had made you blush. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, [Name].” He had taken your hand, fingers gentle and caressing but his hold firm and strong against your skin. “I hope we can work together closely in the future, as well.”

Well, Momoi had warned you about them being a bit strange, so you passed all these off as characterized oddities, but little did you know… the eccentricities were only just beginning.

Kuroko is the first to make a move to get your attention. You are walking home from school one day when a mop of soft blue hair suddenly impedes your path, and a soft yap of a bark fills the air. You squeak and skitter back in surprise to find Kuroko standing directly in front of you, expression impassive but eyes quietly contemplative as he looks at you. He is holding a tiny dog in his hands, and your eyes widen when you realize that both the puppy and its owner had exactly the same type of eyes.

Yap!” It barks again, and you can’t help but swoon internally at how cute it looked and sounded, wagging its tail as it looked up at you adoringly like that.

“Number 2 likes you, [Name]-san.” Kuroko says, holding the dog up to your face so that it can nuzzle against your cheek, panting contentedly. His eyes peek out at you from behind the dog, and you smile at him weakly, feeling overwhelmed by their combined cuteness.

“Shall we go for a walk together?” He suggests in a gentle, innocent voice.

The next to grab your attention is Kise Ryouta, and his approach is a lot more direct than Kuroko’s. It is lunch hour, and you are standing in the courtyard, basking in the sun when you hear a distant cry:


You barely have a moment to turn around in surprise when a yellow blur tackles you in a friendly hug, making your eyes widen in surprise. You pat this new arrival awkwardly on the back and pull away, flushing slightly from the sudden contact.

“H-Hello to you, too, Kise-san,” you say, smiling uncertainly. The fact that you smiled at all seems to invigorate the loud blonde, and his face lights up with happiness as he clasps his hands together in excitement.

“[N-Name]-cchi said my name! I’m so honored, you know?”

You gape at him sheepishly, not knowing how to respond. It doesn’t seem to matter, because the blonde had plenty of words to offer.

“You know, [Name]-cchi! I’m really surprised I haven’t noticed someone as pretty as you before!” He loops his arm around your shoulders and steers you away from your group of stunned friends, lowering his voice as he continues speaking. “I’m really glad you’re subbing for Momocchi, okay?”

He gives you a wide, cheerful smile, but his cat-like eyes glitter with mischief as he leans a bit closer slyly. “It gives us plenty of time to get to know each other really well, right, [Name]-cchi?”

Midorima Shintarou is thankfully, a lot less loud, but not any less strange. If anything, he has the most eccentric approach of them all.

You are working on your homework in the library during a free period when you hear a pair of footsteps approaching your desk. You decide to finish the sum you are working on before dealing with the arrival.

“Yes, how can I—eep!

This last part you say upon noticing the truly grotesque voodoo mask lying atop your table, grimly staring up at you in all its gruesome glory. You follow the pale hand resting atop this crazy-looking mask, up the immaculately ironed uniform sleeve, to meet with the face of a furiously blushing Midorima Shintarou.

You raise an eyebrow, and he scowls more, cheeks turning a truly alarming shade of burgundy. He does not speak whatsoever, and instead just slowly pushes the voodoo mask towards you and retracts his hand. You blink, looking up at him questioningly.

A few seconds of a terribly awkward silence pass between you two, where Midorima is just glaring at the far wall instead of paying you any attention whatsoever, so you clear your throat tentatively, trying to get his responsiveness.

“Um, Midorima-san…?”

“Y-Your lucky item, nanodayo.” He says, making you frown in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“This is the lucky item for [your sign] for today, nanodayo.” He elaborates. You cannot fathom why he is so angry at the far wall, for he seems to be glaring at it like it personally offended him.

You grimace at the ugly mask. “A-Are you sure this isn’t cursed?”

Midorima exhales heavily, possibly trying to calm his agitated nerves. He pushes the mask closer to you and turns away from you almost immediately. You raise your eyes, for even the back of his neck is all red.

“I-It is a gift, nanodayo.” He says the next part whilst walking away rapidly, and his hands are shaking with embarrassment. “Please accept it, [Name].”

Murasakibara Atsushis’s level of eccentricity doesn’t fall short of this, either. You are sitting in class, waiting for the teacher to show up when all of a sudden a shadow falls on your desk. You look up sleepily, and then start in surprise upon seeing the towering Murasakibara standing by your desk, looking down at you with lazy lavender eyes.

Wordlessly, without even so much as greeting you, he lifts a truly enormous plastic bag – filled with junk food, as is apparent from the see-through material – and drops it onto your desk. You raise your eyebrows, mostly because the words 4 [nAme]-chin (he misspelled your name, incidentally) has been scrawled over the bag with a black sharpie.

You look up at him in shock and confusion, and he pouts at you sullenly, cheeks slightly flushed. “Nn… take it, [Name]-chin… before I change my mind…”

Your eyes widen when he says the next bit. “If you don’t eat it… I might have to crush you…”

But perhaps it is Aomine Daiki’s approach that really takes the cake. You are sitting on the bench, a bit excited, because the team is one point away from breaking the national record for score difference in a basketball match, and there are only 40 seconds left on the clock with the ball in your side’s possession.

You do not expect what’s coming next, and when it happens, you are shocked beyond words.

The timer is counting down the seconds, and there are only 30 seconds left as Aomine expertly weaves his way through the defense – and much to your awe – dribbles his way with the ball towards the sideline; straight towards you.

“Looking good, [Name].” He grins slyly, and your jaw drops. The defense tries desperately to get at the ball, but Aomine is unbothered as he keeps it out of his reach with lazy but decidedly meticulous skill.

“Y-You’re crazy, Aomine-san!” You exclaim, not knowing whether to be angry or flustered. “Time’s running out! Please shoot the ball!”

Aomine smirks at you, blue eyes wild with a type of electricity that is leaving you a bit breathless. 15 seconds.

“I will if you go out with me, [Name].” He says mischievously, and you frown at him, blushing despite the circumstances.

13 seconds.

“Aomine-san, please…” you blush, hiding your face behind your hands. I-It was all too sudden. How on earth are you supposed to respond in a situation like this?

“Aomine.” Akashi’s voice calls out sternly from behind Aomine, and Aomine’s face falls slightly, knowing he has no choice but to adhere to the game. Nonetheless, he cocks his head towards you with an excited grin as he does a rollover and dribbles around the defense to step towards the pot.

“This ones on you, [Name]!” He exclaims as he leaps into the air and slams the ball in just as the buzzer sounded. The stadium explodes with excitement, and you can’t help but cheer along with them, because honestly, what on earth was wrong with these idiots?

Akashi Seijuro meets you after the game, smiling apologetically at you and handing you a can of pocari sweat from the team’s cooler. You accept gratefully and take a long swig of the drink.

“Congratulations, Akashi-san.” You say after you’re done, grinning because you are in fact, a little proud of the entire lot of them. “Your team broke the national record.”

Our team, [Name].” He corrects gently, regarding you with a soft smile. “I am afraid you have become one of us, whether you accept it or not.”

You flush slightly, understanding what he is talking about. Something about this enigmatic team captain really invigorates you, for some reason…

“I am sorry about Aomine’s behavior from earlier,” he says softly, “it is my duty as a captain to bear responsibility for my teammate’s misdemeanors.”

“I-It’s okay,” you say, flustered, “I didn’t mind that much…”

Akashi studies you for a moment, and then reaches out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes widen in surprise at the movement and you blush, because your temple is tingling where his skin came into contact with yours.

“Do tell me if they bother you again, [Name].” He says, his voice so light and feathery that it is leaving you at a loss for words.

“Because of course, your happiness is of utmost priority to me.”

Kissing Bucky Barnes - Drabble

When he could, he loved to take his time with you and savor every second. He had been waiting nearly a century for something like this- he wasn’t about to rush anything and mess it up.

His eyes would meet yours, smoldering into your soul. Whatever words were about to come out died on your lips as you found yourself, as always, enraptured with this man. His steps towards you would be slow yet confident. A metal hand would reach you first, brushing delicately across your own- always so, so very gentle with you, no matter how much you reassured him. He would cup your chin softly with his flesh hand, running the tip of a finger nail right underneath your lips. The bare edge would trace the contour of your bottom lip and your eyes would flutter shut at the contact. As he leaned in his blue eyes would flick across your face before meeting your eyes once more. A small smile, one reserved only for you, would flicker across his mouth right as your lips met.

Starting off soft with just the barest of touches, he would massage your lips with feather-light caresses. Tired of his teasing you would grow impatient before molding yourself against his body, one hand tracing a pattern on his chest and the other lost in his mane of hair. He’d grip you closer, a metal hand rubbing your hip and the other cupping the crown of your head to pull you closer. He would deepen the kiss and groan as his tongue met yours, heart fluttering as he felt yours speed up. Bucky found himself thanking God or whoever was responsible for bringing him to you. This was when he was home- when he was wrapped up in you, your light, your very essence. Those soft moans leaking from you were part of what kept him grounded, kept him sane. He would push you closer and the kiss would turn desperate and needy, teeth clacking against teeth. Messy, but you liked it.

You would know, however, what this meant. You’d pull away and press loving kisses across his cheeks, cooing to him how wonderful and kind and string and brilliant he was. How you know he’d never hurt you. How he deserved everything. How much you absolutely loved and adored and near worshiped him. His lips would find yours again, a winning smile stretching from cheek to cheek. A playful nip to your bottom lip would have you squeaking, but it would be easily swallowed up by the man before you. He’d tilt you back, loving the way it made you grip tighter onto him.

Tongue entangled with yours, arms wrapped around one another, he reminded himself that you- you beautiful vision you- loved him for whatever crazy reason, and if you were willing to accept he’d kiss you all night long in return.

You were quite willing, and he was very generous.


Imagine Erik helping motivate you to test your powers.

“Erik, are you sure about this?” you asked uncertainly, eyeing the contraption the man had rigged together. “What is this thing even supposed to do?”

“It’s meant to test your abilities,” Erik explained, “Your task is to deactivate the lights.”

“That’s it?”

“Well, not quite. I thought you might require some… motivation.” Erik flicked a switch on the side of the box and you jumped as it started ticking. “It’s attached to a bomb.”

Your eyes went huge as you rounded on the mutant, “What the hell?” you demanded, “You attached this to a bomb?!”

“It’s only a small incendiary device. Nothing serious, though it may hurt.” Erik smirked ever so slightly. “I recommend you start soon. There’s a timer.”

You swore as you turned back to the device, your heart hammering against your ribs. “I’m going to kill you,” you growled out through gritted teeth as you focused on the lights.

“You can do it, [f/n],” the metal-manipulator assured, though he took a step back (more likely to keep you from socking him than from the threat of a bomb).

You flexed your jaw, concentrating your willpower on the little lights. The exercise should be simple. Turn out the lights, stop the bomb. You drew in a breath, filling your lungs slowly before letting it out again. You needed to clear your mind. There were four lights. You swallowed, allowing your body to relax and willing your power to flow out of you. Gradually, the knot of tension in your stomach loosened and something inside of you clicked. You could feel Erik’s eyes on you, waiting for you to act. You narrowed your eyes and the first two lights flickered out. Your confidence grew and a grin took hold of your lips as the third, and then the fourth light went dark.

You breathed a sigh of relief, turning to Erik and crossing your arms. “Happy now?” you asked, pride mingling with annoyance in your tone. “You could have blown up the school. Charles would have been quite unimpressed.”

Erik raised an eyebrow, a small smile curling his lips. “I had faith in your abilities.”

Gif Credit: Erik


the possible final battle of GTL’s Simon Snow series?

read on ao3 (x)

“You could be great, Simon,” the Humdrum says, voice smooth as honey. Like a siren’s song, Simon thinks dazedly.

“You know it, Simon,” the Humdrum whispers. “All the power in the world. You could have everything at the slightest flick of your fingertips. You would never have to want for anything again.”

He shakes his head, once, twice, thrice, like there’s water in his ears and he’s trying to get rid of it. The Humdrum’s face is outlined in the dim light, the shadows of the leaves overhead cutting across his face like sharp, dark blades, swaying back and forth, almost hypnotic.

The Humdrum’s voice is everywhere, ringing in his ears, echoing in his brain. Simon’s hand shakes, and then he feels it - tendrils of magic snaking their way around him, slipping into his mind, trying to scramble everything he’s ever believed.

It hurts, he registers dimly, and the Humdrum smiles a lovely, brilliant smile. “Doesn’t it?”

Keep reading

Dipper made it through the night

Sunday is feeding day for the rest of my snakes.
I don’t know if it’s too soon to try and give him some food? Or if I should let him settle in more?
He’s so ridiculously emaciated.

Does anyone have experience working with severely malnourished snakes?

I’m really tempted to give him a pinky mouse just to maybe kick-start. But I dont want to stress him out.
And honestly I haven’t seen him so much as flick his tongue once. So I would probably have to assist feed…
I’ve considered liquifying some pinkies and maybe syringing them?
I think I should probably wait a couple more days before assist feeding? But maybe I’ll offer him a nice hot pinky and if he’s not interested Jasper can get seconds? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind that…

Stars pretty gullible and falls for a lot of pranks because shes ever heard any of them before. Theyre just Earth things. (like “whats that on your shirt? bwOOOp” *flicks nose*) but she also never forgives/forgets

The next day shes like “Hey Marco whats on ur shirt? :)” and then just decks him in the nose

Rip Marco he fuckign died

messy little things

pairing: marcus flint x oliver wood ft. confused slytherin quidditch team

genre: crack and fluff and more crack

word count: 1,873

A/N: i’m aware pygmy puffs were bred by Fred and George, but for the sake of fanfiction and general havoc, let’s ignore that.

a little feel good fic for @flintwoodandco and @2muchtroubleforyou ❤︎

The first thing Adrian Pucey notices as he slides into the train compartment is a pink ball of fluff being petted by a large hand belonging to Marcus Flint.

“What the fuck.”

“Pucey.” Marcus nods, barely acknowledging his fellow Chaser in favor of placing the pygmy puff on his shoulder. The fluff-ball sways gently, whirring happily. It looks like cotton candy from a distance, sun warming its fur.

Adrian places his suitcase to the side warily, unsure if he’s suddenly stumbled upon some alien alternate universe where Marcus Flint harbors a penchant for cute things. (Terence had taken a liking to Muggle science fiction flicks over the summer, and Adrian has watched enough that the idea of an alternate universe isn’t that absurd.)

Marcus doesn’t seem to be paying attention, too busy transfiguring a stray button into a beetle and back with childish glee. The pygmy puff stares at Adrian with wide eyes.

Adrian stares back. “So, uh, Flint – does that thing have a name?”

“Bludger.” Is the terse response he gets.

“Bludger.” Adrian repeats. “You named that pink ball of cotton candy ‘Bludger’.”

Marcus raises a dark eyebrow and sneers, lips curling. Bludger the pygmy puff trills. Adrian raises his hands in surrender – obviously, Marcus is protective over his new pet.

Miles swoops into the compartment just then, suitcase clanking behind him, and does a double take at the sight of Marcus. “Uh. Captain, what’s with the pink shit?”

“The ‘pink shit’ is my fucking pet, so shut your mouth Bletchley, before I shut it for you.”

The auburn haired Keeper quiets, smartly so, only to pipe up again after the candy trolley has made its rounds. Marcus sucks on a sugar quill as he flips through the Daily Prophet; Adrian and Miles exchange frantic glances in a silent conversation of who’s going to press the issue next.

“Can I hold it?” Miles asks, after an encouraging glare from Adrian.


And when Marcus lets Bludger snuggle into his shirt collar, Adrian knows its going to be a long year.

Keep reading

*Sins and Company Watching a Late Night Horror Flick*

*Elizabeth clutching to Meliodas as he watches the movie closely*

*Gowther is intrigued and confused by everybody’s fear*

*Diane and King holding eachother closely in terror*

*Elaine trying to get Ban to stop stealing and watch the movie*

*Escanor holding onto Merlin for dear life*

anonymous asked:

not sure if you do these request but nct as chick flicks lol

✧・゚: *✧・゚:* NCT! AS CHICK FLICKS *:・゚✧*:・゚✧

    johnny  ♡ how to be single

    hansol  ♡ drop dead gorgeous

    taeil  ♡  divine secrets of the ya-ya sisterhood

    taeyong  ♡ mean girls

    yuta  ♡ mystic pizza

    doyoung  ♡ friends with benefits

    ten  ♡ bridesmaids

    jaehyun  ♡ the notebook

    winwin  ♡ legally blonde

    mark  ♡ the sweetest thing

    haechan  ♡ clueless

    renjun  ♡ the princess diaries

    chenle  ♡ under the tuscan sun

    jeno  ♡ bring it on

    jaemin  ♡ how to lose a guy in 10 days

    jisung  ♡ where heart is

✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚

Gnedby mi ero illusa, non basti
#igersroma #ikea #dvd #dvddatutteleparti #dvdcollection #films #film #favfilms #cinefilia #cinephile #cinecameretta 📺 #movies #toptags #theatre @top.tags #video #movie #cinema #instamovies #goodmovie #instagood #flick #flicks #instaflick #instaflicks

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The Golden Mage’s Captive, chapter 4 (An Alternate Telling of @canimallow‘s Mage’s Captive Fics)


His fingers curled into a fist in her hair, holding her tight. Lips brushing against her ear, he whispered, “Push me, and you might find yourself sleeping at the foot of my bed, like a proper little pet.”

She shuddered in his grasp, a tingling warmth curling through her as he leaned just a bit lower, still.

He dragged the very edge of his teeth along her throat, the tip of his tongue darting out to flick and trace over her pulse in a wet line.

* * * * *

Hermione started awake, immediately blinking her bleary eyes to clear them. The bedroom she’d been brought to earlier swam into focus around her.

A dream? Oh, thank God! She was too busy being relieved that she’d only imagined that to worry on the fact that she’d just dreamed about Throfinn Rowle nipping and lapping at her throat.

But what if that had happened? The last thing she remembered was sitting at the table, exhaustion sinking into her bones as she finished the last spoonful of the delicious soup Reina had made.

And now she was here … and Thorfinn had said he’d return to the kitchen after she’d had time to finish … .

She turned her head, taking in the other side of the bed. The covers were not so much as rumpled. Lifting the blankets over her, she gave herself a look. Her robe was wrapped snuggly around her body, the belt still securely tied; shifting just a little told her the knickers she’d slipped on after drying from her mess of a shower were still in place.

“You’re awake, good,” Reina’s voice cut into the room, startling Hermione. “Oh, sorry, I just … .” She pushed the door open a bit further, revealing a tea service cart.

Hermione brightened at the sight of a covered plate and a tea pot, two cups upside-down upon the tray. That could only mean the other witch planned to have tea with her while she ate.

“No, no, it’s fine, really,” Hermione said, pushing herself to sit up, finally. “How long was I asleep?”

Reina pushed the cart up to the side of the bed and busied herself with pouring them each a cup of tea. “About eighteen hours. You needed the rest though,” she tacked on that second part when a look of concern flooded the other witch’s face.

“I, um, I don’t remember how I got up here.”

“Not surprised. You fell asleep at the table. Finnie carried you up here and then left to answer a summons from You Know Who.”

Hermione darted her gaze about the room. So, that little dream was solely her imagination. Fan-bloody-tastic.

Keep Reading

Chapter One

Alicia Clarke Knife Sneak Peek

Everything Alicia does is calculated and planned. This is one of her greatest assets. She flicks her knife, a skill she probably stayed up late many night to home. She also plays with her knife to calm her nerves. The repetitive movements now so familiar and comforting. The flicks of her wrist can also count time. One second passed her knife moves to the closed position. Start again. Another second and she looks out to spoke another walker. She ticks off the bodies she sees walking passed the door. That’s all they are in her logical mind now, just bodies, easier to kill that way. Finally she knows there is no more point in waiting. She readies herself. Tying her boots tightly and pulling her hair back. She won’t be an easy target because of her long curls and she also won’t have her vision hindered if her hair gets in her face. She’s ready and of course her heart pounds. Alicia is probably the type to speak positive affirmations to herself. Because even with all her hard work getting a kind word from her family was difficult when everyone was always so worried about Nick. Oh Nick. The thought of her older brother gives her pause and she looks through the peep hole one last time to see just like so many times before in her life the threat is much closer to home than she would like.