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Name: slumber in the fandom
Website: slumber
times beyond recall
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Abandon the search for truth. Settle for a good fantasy.
-Anonymous, and why I write and read

There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written. That is all.
-Oscar Wilde, and why I read what I read

All happy families resemble each other, each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.
-Leo Tolstoy, and why I write what I write

It is impossible to enjoy idling thoroughly unless one has plenty of work to do.
-Jerome K. Jerome, and why I love the fandom as much as I do

black
The light by your bed burns brightly, and in the silence of the room you flip the page of a book, but the black ink bleeds into the paper and the lines blur into meaningless jumble.

You stop to rub your temples and you fetch another cup of tea.

You sip, and the aroma nudges your senses awake, so you resume waiting for him to come home, with alcohol in his breath and the marks of other men on his skin. You open the book.

Nothing still makes sense.

It is late, and you are as blind as the night.
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Title: Sweetheart's Ending
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Theodore/Alicia
Length: 100 words
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Summary: Alicia wakes up.
Additional Notes: For [info]ronniekinns77, who requested Theodore/Alicia with the prompt "it's not all rainbows and butterflies, sweetheart". Erm, I'm not sure this is a ship, exactly, but it could be heavily implied. :P Posted before Christmas because it's dark. And, your Dean/Padma shall be up on Christmas. :D

She struggled from the blackness, waking to a splitting headache, bound limbs, a swollen lip, and what felt like broken bones. "Shit."

"Pretty, and eloquent, too," a voice murmured from beside her, lip grazing coolly against her earlobe. She shivered. "Pity they don't make Gryffindors like you anymore."

Black-hooded robes brushed roughly against her as she slumped forward, and her shoulder ached from renewed pain. He knelt in front of her, tilting her chin up, face centimetres away.

She spat at him.

"Crucio."

The dark reclaimed her, and he gently stroked her cheek.

"No rainbows and butterflies for you, sweetheart."

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