Hollowed [working title] Part 1/? Trial Run

This is the first part. I posted the second part first. You can find the second part here. I will also be organizing them in the Memories section.

Shape Without Form, Shade Without Color

Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

The Hollow Men ~ T. S. Elliot



In the early days of his sleep, he had become accustomed to the comings and goings of the scientists. Accustomed to the strange sounds that emanated down the hall from his room, the whir of machines, the footsteps, and the conversing voices.

And then they had all faded.

And for a time his sleep remained uninterrupted by any presence other than the rats that shared the cellar. Days, Months, or more passed; he could not be certain when, from the place of his dreams, he felt the house stir around him with the nuances of human sounds, of human emotions.

You can smell her, can’t you?

Be silent. Be still. His words were not spoken but pushed firmly against the entity sharing his form.

( Read the rest )

[Tom/Ginny] Fear of Falling Part 3/4

The first and second parts you can find in the memories. One more part to go. I am thinking this piece was just an excuse for some Tom/Ginny smut. My exposition seemed to fall in on itself a little bit after this part.

Searching for a haven, it’s no favour
The fingers that shine
Heart beats quicker as the veils start to fall
I’ll be craving, the pleasure’s all mine


“Ginny.” Feathery strokes over her nose and cheeks. The voice, sleek in tone, dark, familiar. “Ginevra.” Her name on his tongue always sounded like a prayer or curse. The feather light strokes on her face gave way to heavy wing brushes. “It is time to wake, little Ginny.”

“Uhm not little…” she muttered, irritated, struggling against the tide of consciousness that was breaking through the fog in her brain.

A chuckle, like the sound of a viscous potion trickling into a vile, filled the room, and her eyes sprang open but her vision blurred at the edges, and it took a moment for her to focus on the figure leaning near.

He loomed over her, features indistinguishable. The firelight at his back outlined his form in green and cast his face into sickly shadow.

“Are you not glad to see me, little one?”

“Tom?” The name came out as the faintest of hisses; she attempted to sit up. The world swam, the bed beneath her whirled violently, and she felt hands behind her, guiding her back to the pillows. Once she stilled, the world settled before her eyes.

( Read the Rest )