#450 words

[patchworkcuddlebug]

Warmth

This one rests its shoulder against the brick wall. It couldn't bring itself to check why the wall was there or what it connected to. It instead uses its strength to brush off the snow that's collected on it as it's been walking.

It's only resting for a second. Please, please, only a second. It has to keep moving.

Miss trusted this one to go shopping. All she needed was a book she didn't have in her library yet. It clutches the paperback as close to its chest as it can. It can't pull it away for even a second, not even to assess the damages. It's much too risky, not in this weather.

This one is sealed tight. There's no way that snow could get inside of it and start to ruin its clockwork. This is just normal fatigue. It has felt this before and it has conquered it before.

It's all this one's fault. If only it didn't take the wrong bus. If only it brought more money than it needed for the book. If only it had tea. So many ways it could've been a good doll. Now it's lost, and Miss is without her book.

Porcelain can withstand extreme temperatures. Clockwork... can't, but it doesn't need to. It just needs to find Miss again. Then she can fix it.

It's getting harder. To move, to think. It feels heavy. It doesn't feel much else.

It looks down. It dropped the book.

It looks back. There's so much snow. It's already buried.

Get back. Please. She'll help. She's Miss.

It hurts. Keep walking.

No. No, please. Please. Keep going. Has to.

Get up. Get up. Sorry Miss. Hurts. Sorry.

. . . . .

It's blurry. Warm.

"Oh, thank God it's okay." Miss! Miss. Miss.

Touch.

"The tea was just finished, Miss." Doll. "Should this one get more blankets?"

"It should be fine. We just need to wait."

"This one will watch the fire."

It's warmer. Easier to think. Core feels better. Not as weak. Moving, just a bit. Looking at her.

"...M'ss?"

Her hands feel nice. Warm and soft. "Yes dear, I'm here."

"Sorry. L'st..." Please, talk. It needs to.

Face on chest. So warm. Close to her. "Please, don't say that, not now. It's my fault, I shouldn't have let you go out without checking the weather, I should've, I should've told you more about the busses... God, I'm so sorry..."

Can't look. Shame. "Got lost."

Hug tighter. She's crying. Trying to speak.

Arm out of blanket, around Miss. "Please. Miss. Don't cry."

She holds this one tighter. "I'm just... so, so happy you're okay. Please never go out into the cold again, I was so scared."

She's still crying, but she's smiling. This one is so happy it made it back.

[bbynedtime]

Obsessed with switch Goodsir and I immediately am thinking about his relationship with Collins (who is 100% sad wet babie in my brain)!!!

Goodsir is canonically very gentle with Collins when he’s clearly struggling and I imagine he has the desire to be very reassuring regardless of his headspace.

He’s the type who would definitely age up if he thought Collins needed something and Macca spends a lot of time reassuring Harry that he’s perfectly comfortable with Harry being small and staying small even if Henry is having a hard day. Maybe he promises to ask Harry for help if he needs it and starts allowing Harry to help him care for Henry even when he’s small as well, because he knows Harry needs to feel like he’s helping. Cue MacDonald sending little Harry on Very Important Missions to find Henry’s favorite pacifier, pick a book for Macca to read to them both, or fetch the diaper bag.

When Goodsir isn’t feeling the need to be small everyone knows to get him as soon as Collins starts looking like he’s getting caught up in his own thoughts. Stanley sighs and makes snarky comments whenever Collins shows up and hovers just to be close to Harry but finds a reason to leave the sickbay so they can have some space. Harry always offers to hug Henry and hold him tight while he has a cry. Especially when they’re on Erebus without MacDonald Harry often finds himself refusing to be little because he doesn’t want to risk not being able to care for Henry if he needs it.

I think Bridgens is the unofficial oversight of all the Littles on board Erebus. He’s just naturally very tuned in to how people are feeling and it’s second nature to be scanning for problems and he always keeps track of how the Littles seem to be doing. This goes extra for Henry and there are days when the Second Ice Master is nearly constantly in his view as he seems on the verge of slipping little. I also think Bridgens would be the one to bring Henry to Goodsir for help cleaning up after he has an accident. He’d hold Henry’s hand and wipe his tears as they make their way to sickbay while Bridgens reassures him that his friend Dr Goodsir will get him all warm and dry again and offers to help take care of the laundry.

These are so so delicious💖💖

Yeah, Bridgens would so love checking in on everyone, make sure (if they wear diapers) that they're stocked up and ask if they're hungry maybe or offer to read them a story... 🥰🥰 I HC that his voice really calms Henry down, so a story is a great way to get him to calm down when he's crying.

I'm also plagued by visions of aged up Goodsir/baby Collins/tired and annoyed Stanley...

Dr. Stanley entered the sick bay after dinner, to check if someone was waiting for him. He didn't expect anyone - not at this hour and not unless it's an emergency. And he bloody hoped there were no emergencies tonight. He needs sleep.

Instead of a patient, he found Goodsir and - to his annoyance - Collins, obviously during his little time and holding onto Harry's hand like a lifeline.

He sighed. "What's he doing here?"

"Just wants company." Harry didn't even look up from his book to greet him, only rubbed his thumb over Henry's knuckles and turned a page. "He won't be in the way."

Stanley eyed the unfortunate lad, who was hunched over in his chair and looking somewhere down towards the floor. His face was mostly hidden by hair, at least from where Stanley stood, but his near-to-tears frown was still visible.

If he starts crying he will throw them both out. "I sincirely doubt it, Mr. Goodsir... But if you insist."

Since he's there he might as well check on his supplies. It was mostly Goodsir's job to fill his cabinets at the end of each day, but sometimes he missed a shelf or just got lazy. It's better to check.

"Longer still? Alright." He heard Harry say behind him over the clattering of vials. "No, no, however long you need."

-=-=-

He closed the last cabinet with a sigh. It has been as long a day as any other. Meaning very very long. And he was most of all looking forward to his bed. Since there were still no patients (if Collins needed something, Goodsir would say it) he soon headed to his cabin. Before he left, though, he spared Collins a pat on the shoulder. "You should sleep as well."

Henry didn't seem to notice it at all. Perhaps his mind was far off again, unreachable. It wasn't for Stanley to know, of course. That isn't his problem, but Goodsir's.

Though, as he stepped over the threshhold of sick bay and began walking away, he heard Collins mutter something. What it was he didn't know. It wasn't aimed at him, most likely. Therefore he discarded it by the time he arrived to his cabin.

God, he needs sleep...

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Microfic: Rewrite the Stars

450 words written for @drarrymicrofic's prompt: Rewrite the Stars.

Draco gasped as he was slammed into on the platform, bracing himself for the slew of hateful words and inevitable violence.

Instead, strong arms wrapped around him and familiar magic enfolded him as he was held.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, spinning around. “We can’t-”

“Draco-”

“Someone will see-”

“I don’t care,” Harry said, his lips pressing messily, desperately, against Draco’s. 

And for a moment he gave into the temptation to pull him in. To grasp and to hold, because it was all he truly desired.

He pulled back, stepping out of his reach. “You have to stop,” he begged. “We can’t." Shaking his head and taking another step backward, he said, “People will never accept us, they’ll never-”

A stray curse was fired out of nowhere, hitting Draco in the ribs, knocking him off balance, and sending him careening toward the tracks. 

His heart caught in his throat but before he could even make a sound, Harry caught him. One hand grasped Draco's hand as his other hand wrapped around Draco's waist, pulling him in until their bodies were flush together and he could feel the other man’s heart thundering against his own.

Harry cupped his cheek and looked into his eyes, “Are you alright?” he asked, eyes desperately searching Draco’s. Draco's weak heart shattered, all of the well-intentioned defenses dropping. 

“Fine,” he said with a nod, eyes burning, still a little breathless from the shock. “Just a minor stinging hex.”

Harry pressed a fierce kiss to his forehead before spinning around, shielding Draco with his body. (Whether the gesture was conscious or unconscious, Draco wasn’t sure.)

“Who did it?” Harry snarled, and Draco could feel his magic seeping from his pores; bright, and clean, and cool as it sparkled through his consciousness.

When everyone around them seemed to shrink back a bit, nervous murmurs slipping through the crowd, Harry took another step toward them. 

“Who. Did it?” he repeated, voice low and the magic in the air turned metallic. 

He loved him. Salazar how he loved him; his fierce defense, his unwavering loyalty, the all encompassing nature of his love. It made Draco lightheaded. 

He took a step forward and rested his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “It’s fine,” he soothed.

“It’s not,” Harry replied, his voice hard. 

It wasn’t, but it didn’t matter. Not when he could have Harry. “We should go.” 

“We?” Harry asked, turning from the crowd nervously continuing to back away. 

He nodded, “If you want.” 

Harry’s eyes went misty as he nodded. Then he turned back, “Whoever you are,” he growled, “If you touch him again, I will end you.”

Without another word, Harry took Draco’s hand and apparated them home.

Fuck destiny.

-------------------

Read all of my micorfics.

[drarryruinedme7]

If you're still taking prompts! Drarry, "you're always on my mind", ~450 words 💚 thank you for bringing your absolute sweetness to our fandom!!

Drarry + ‘you’re always on my mind’ (450 words).

—-

I’m getting ready for my first day of school. Putting my shoes on, tying my cloak. 

I must be friends with Harry Potter.

I’m studying Potions, book open on my lap.

‘Scared, Malfoy?’ Pfft, as if! Stupid Potter, with his stupid Parseltongue.

There’s fog outside, and it’s freezing. I wrap my blanket tighter around me.

Maybe I exaggerated with Potter earlier… but it was only a joke, he’s stupid being so afraid of Dementors!

Everyone’s wearing my ‘Potter stinks’ badges. I’m so proud.

I must admit, though, his scent isn’t actually that bad…

This old pink brat is training me how to hunt down Potter. As if I need that. Hello, I’ve been taunting him for 5 years now, thank you very much.

Am I doing the right thing? Well, Potter is annoying… with his stupid green eyes and messy hair!

I’m crying, looking into a mirror. I’m desperate, I’m broken. I didn’t want this. This time thinking about Potter won’t do me any good, he can’t—

I’m dead. He killed me.

I’m alive, but is it worth it? I’m looking down the table: Voldemort has brought another Muggle in. I’m not sure they deserve to die.

Where is he? What is he doing? Is he close to beating Voldemort?

I’m staring into a sea of emerald green. It’s disguised, but it’s the one. It’s him. But when asked, I lie.

He ran away. I can breathe again.

Everywhere I look is blurred, heat is making my skin burn, my lungs hurt. I shut my eyes, I’ll finally die.

He saved me. I just grasped his hand, like a damsel in distress, and fucking climb onto the broom with him. He’s so selfless it’s nauseating…

I’m walking through corpses, dodging away from curses, searching for my friends. This fucking castle is huge.

Potter, move on! Finish this already, I’m begging!

My sight of the world outside is divided into three little rectangular spaces. Azkaban is no fun, then.

Is he enjoying the glory? Does he think about me too?

Hogwarts, again. It’s something called Eighth year, it’s part of my parole. 

Why isn’t he here? I should… apologise, I want to… see him. Is he fine?

Potter arrives a month later. He looks tired, he looks adorable. We’ve been paired for almost every subject and I can finally breathe him in, see him, talk with him, mock him, every day.

I often catch him… staring at me?

I’m watching the fire crackling in the hearth of the common room. I’m alone when I hear steps approaching me. When I look up, it’s Potter.

“Draco, what are you doing?”

I grin. 

“Thinking about you. Have been for the last eight years.”

—

Thanks to my darling @malenkayacherepakha for the swift beta! ❤️

Hello, my lovely @lettersbyelise, jdksafha you make me blush, you’re the sweet one!! And kkkh, I hope you liked the drabble, I took inspiration from your wonderful writing and your wonderful drabble, ‘Swallow (Your Pride)’. It’s the first time I write 1st person pov!!

[dabbledrabbleprose]

Whumptober Day 7 - Isolation

Peace brings only stagnation. With every battle, comes growth. With every war, comes change, adaptation. Strength.

Power.

Prison did not suit Akande, but he supposed every criminal in the Helix Maximum Security facility would say that. The isolation of solitary confinement got under his skin and itched like a disease.

The silence was truly terrible. The walls were insulated well enough that he could not hear either other prisoners or guards. His food was delivered three times a day by drones, humming, whirring machines he could hear coming from down the hall, but no human contact. The solar lights in his cell made no noise, and he couldn’t even hear the normal sounds of plumbing through his walls. For a time, he tried just leaving the sink tap on just to hear the sound of running water, anything besides the sound of his own breathing and the beat of his heart. After only sixty seconds, the water stopped. Apparently wasting water wasn’t allowed. The drones were the only source of outside sound.

The food itself was bland. It was nourishing enough, but almost tasteless, as if they wanted to deprive him of even the sensations of taste and smell. He had nothing to see outside of his cell, no contact with the outside world, nothing to hear, nothing to do. A lesser man could go mad and waste away in a place like this. It was fortunate, then, that Akande was not a lesser man.

He worked. If he had no one to war with, he would war with himself and grow stronger for it. He kept a strict, lengthy workout routine to keep himself in shape. The rest of the time he spent planning. With no outside contact, he had no idea what the world was like, so he built his own scenarios, playing out mental war games and devising tactics and strategies. He would not stagnate. He would grow stronger. But even a hunter knows to not strike early, so he waited and worked in his cell.

Finally, a day came with a change. The lunchtime drone arrived exactly on schedule and hummed and whirred to Akande’s cell. He’d learned the exact sounds of each of the five drones that brought his meals. This one was number two, and he listened to the sound like a song he had memorized.

WhirrrrrrrHumHumWhirrrrr-bzzzn-HumHisss

The drone stopped precisely and delivered his lunch. But then the song changed. For the first time in a year of incarceration, the drone sat outside his cell instead of continuing on.

Akande peered out the small, barred window on his door.

“Hola, Boss!” The drone said in a cheerful, crackly-static voice. “Did you know Helix uses the same backdoor password for all their drones?”

Akande smirked. Now the real work began.

[spilledinkcreations]

The Pine trees were dotted against the grey sky. He came across her mind as she spaced out. He had a soft place in her heart and she wondered if he had a soft place for her too or if that place had grown hard or closed off. She told herself it was pointless to continue daydreaming about him. Since he didn’t even mention her or speak of his love for her. Going there was pointless. A distant friend came to mind as well. It felt so long ago but her friend still popped up in her thoughts at times. Now she doesn’t ponder or let it mean anything as it use too. She felt as if the love she had back then was no longer with her now. Normally she would ignore these thoughts but she couldn’t help but focus on them this time. She wondered about her friend, “Does Jamie date just to avoid the fact that I still pop in her mind too? But I can’t possibly think that since I don’t know if that’s her thoughts. I barely know who she is now. It may be because she likes dating. Not that she’s trying to hide from past emotions and besides, that hope of ever being friends again is very unlikely. There’s no reason to get sad over it. But in her heart she missed her friend. She missed the times they spent together. Those times were treasures. Sometimes out of the blue she would pause and her mind would replay a time that had never happened of her friend sitting across from her and then the thought would go as if it never even came. She wanted to tell her this but even if she could. She knew her friend wouldn’t want to hear it. She wondered why Jamie was in her head because she had given up on thinking about her and had accepted change. The clouds seemed darker now, water was in them and she pictured the sky as an ocean and thought that it would be weird if there were two oceans. Earlier that afternoon as they had driven past the hospital she saw a flashback of him again. But it was such a strange reminder so far away it felt as if it never happened, many friendships had come to be like that in her mind and it didn’t seem to faze her as it use too. It was as if some force field was blocking the damage from wounding her further or as if it was a faraway sound that didn’t seem to reach her ears. Was it okay that she felt at peace while her friend was trapped and suffering everyday?

M

Story (c)

[biscottibitch]

Knockin' On Death's Door || Disney Descendants 

A spin-off, prequel, one-shot of @inthe-drowningdeep

could be read as a stand-alone if you so wished

[patchworkcuddlebug]

Weredoll

It's a minute to midnight. Oh, god, this is really happening. You're... still okay with sticking around, right? I promise it's okay if you're not, this is kinda...

...alright. Thank you. That... means a lot.

You're... sure it won't hurt, right? Like, did that guide say if it was specifically for a first time transformation?

Alright, thanks. I know it wou... ah! I-I think it's starting...!

I... oh, god, this feels so... what the fuck. It's like I'm... I dunno, it's like I'm... emptying out, or something.

It's... fine, actually. I think it would be scary if... I. If I didn't know what was going on. It's actually a little... pleasant. It's like, things are just... draining away.

Ah! O-oh, my god, fuck, I... my chest. It's... colder. Like, I- oh, it's... it's firm, it's... it's like plastic. Oh my god.

You're... still okay, right? This isn't too freaky?

Alright. Good. Thanks again for this.

This one... this one. This one. Um... right, okay. God. This one can... feel its mind starting to go.

No, it's okay! Please don't worry. It just feels, uh... urges. Like, the room feels a little messier than it did before. This one would like to tidy up when this is over.

No, it's nothing intrusive. It just thinks it would enjoy cleaning up, putting things away and making things more presentable for... eep!

Yes, sorry, this one just... felt a joint pop in. It was just surprised, it... doesn't hurt at all.

The shoulder. Both, now. Would you like to see, Miss?

Oh, god, sorry, that just slipped out, this-

...oh. Thank you, Miss.

Is it... close to this one's face, Miss? It doesn't feel as warm as it did earlier. Is it changing?

Yeah, that's... more plastic. It feels so strange, but... not in a bad way. It's spreading so fast, Miss.

Actually, this one feels... very comfortable, Miss. The feeling of its body hollowing out, its joints popping into place, it's so... pleasant. It's like taking a warm bath after a long day.

It won't be long until this one finishes becoming, Miss. It can feel it. It feels the... stillness creeping it. It feels like it would be so nice to just... sit, and be still. As long as Miss doesn't have anything to ask of it, of course. Do you have any requests before this one is fully dollified, Miss?

Oh, humanity and dollhood have nothing to do with that. Its feelings could never change. Regardless, as you command: This one loves you very much, Miss. It promises.

Ah. There it goes. Nothing but docile obedience. An empty space.

Yes, it feels wonderful. Thank you for the concern, Miss. As well as for keeping this one company as it becomes. Is there any way this one can repay you?

Yes. As you command, Miss.