prince of snakes

❝  You’ve been so brave, sweetheart.❞                              “Why are you here? All of you?”

                                            ❝ We never left.❞

            18+, highly selective / exclusive, writing intensive, canon && AU Lily Evans-Potter.

❝  You’ve been so brave, sweetheart.❞                                                                      “Why are you here? All of you?” 

                                             ❝ We never left.❞

             18+, highly selective / exclusive, writing intensive, canon && AU Lily Evans-Potter.  

    ——— ❝  YOU THINK I’M A FOOL?❞

          NO ONE CAN HEAR YOU SCREAM.

It’s hard to have school pride when, despite going to one of the best universities, everything beyond the actual learning sucks. After Colorado legalized marijuana, there was a suspicious spike in applications and general interest for the University of Colorado Colorado Springs, but the excitement died once the accepted students settled in and…well.  When the biggest pull of the University is a state pot regulation and a thirst to let loose without the parents, people start to find out very quickly that there is little to nothing else to do there.  The displeasure was voiced and after an arduous process and all too long negotiations that spanned nearly the whole school year trying to figure out logistics, a deal was struck to breathe some life back into moral.

The school had long ago acquired an old lodging resort that went defunct, that doubled as a camp during the summer months with the intent to use it for campus expansion. Since, they’d realized that given the location, it was a high improbability but that didn’t mean it was wasted. Parties — er, spirit building events — retreats even,  and music were among the main requests of the students and …  finally they were able to reach an understanding.  Sacrifice one summer, clean it up, bring it back up to code and use that abundance of elbow grease to make it sparkle and shine; and get the opportunity of alifetime.

Create something special, incredible. With sponsorship, they could easily rope in a few headliners and guests; create a music festival in the heart of the Midwest, not just for the students, but the surrounding area to help settle the costs.  Not only would those involved in the revive get name recognition as one of the creators and the glory to come with it, they’d get honorary passes for as long as the festival continued, a red carpet welcome; essentially becoming UCCS royalty.  It was a fair trade off. As it was, the old camp ground was decrepit and hadn’t seen actual people — er, campers or skiers for over fifty years. The buildings were full of mice, falling apart and due for repair.  But that was the deal.

Fix it and then party. They had a budget that would allow at least two full days of acts, and that was without sponsors, which were still in the works. Food trucks from all over the states could come, and everything else would follow. This had the potential to be the Midwest Coachella!  Not to mention, it would offer yet another thing to add to future resumes, something that would look impressive, no?

At least that was the hope. No one that remained within the faculty knew why exactly the school had all this land sitting around untouched, and anyone that did was long gone. A legend or two had found life once upon a time, but no one knew really, no one spoke of it.

So, with two months ahead and a lot of work to do,  and summer officially started; shuttles dropped everyone and everything off with a purpose to renew. Of course not everyone that signed up had intent on lifting a finger. After all, University kids and no supervision seemed like a really good excuse to party the summer away.

FULL NAVIGATION  ☠ RULES  ☠ APPLICATION  ☠ RP HOME ☠  F.A.Q

ELBOW GREASE is an indie horror group verse that is currently accepting canon characters from MOST fandoms. 18+ ONLY.  Horror heavy. Mass crossover. Come one, come all, things are just getting started.

Relationships: Wolfgang Bogdanow/Rajan Rasal, Wolfgang Bogdanow/Kala Dandekar/Rajan Rasal

Characters: Wolfgang Bogdanow, Rajan Rasal, Kala Dandekar

Summary:

They were back in the Positano villa, the place they had spent their honeymoon, and the symbolism of it had not escape Rajan. Three times he’d come here with his wife now. The first they had come together, just the two of them, to embark upon their shared life together. The second time he had arrived without her, but with all of people, all of the secrets, she had withheld from him. He had followed blindly behind her into a world of violence and persecution and warfare, and such love, so much love he barely knew how to process it. It was then he and his wife started their marriage anew, with the knowledge that they understood each other now, with clarity, and generosity, and hope.

“ Fucking git. ” - Harry Potter | Horcrvxed.

TW: Torture, Dark Harry

Draco was Finch-Fletchley dispassionately, as he screamed a few feet away. Draco’s wand pointed in his direction lazily every few minutes, wordless incantations ravaging the man’s frame. Harry had his head in Draco’s laps watching with a smirk. 

“Fucking git,” Harry spat in satisfaction, as another crucio wracked through Justin’s body. Draco had gotten rather good at unspoken spells. His free hand carded through Harry’’s unkempt locks. He dreamed of hacking it off some nights. Most nights he tried not to dream of Harry at all. 

Justin fell silent, his cheek pressed to the stone floor, eyes glazed over. Draco gave it about… twenty minutes more before he let go of the connection between mind and body entirely. Not bad, honestly. Not quite impressive, the Lovegood girl had lasted almost a week, but not bad. Draco hummed absently in response. Harry didn’t need his agreement, or his approval. Harry took what he wanted from Draco, and they both knew it. He took this too, even if Draco gave it freely by now. In the beginning, his pride had been a much greater obstacle. 

Finch-Fletchley had once been a peer after all. Almost a friend, in the way that Draco was friendly with anyone he saw as a potential ally in his foolish crusade against the Golden Boy himself. Foolish and doomed from the start, he saw that now. It was a different lifetime, and now he tortured the boy who’d once shared his Arithmancy notes with Draco with nary a thought. It was what Harry wanted, and Harry always got what he wanted in the end. 

“You’ve gotten rather good at that, Draco,” Harry remarked, a subtle note of praise in his voice. Draco bent down and pressed a kiss to Harry’s lips without thinking. Harry liked the affection, and would demand it if Draco didn’t offer it readily. 

“Thank you, Harry,” he replied, voice even. The ‘my Lord,’ had taken too long to burn from the tip of his tongue. Harry had insisted on no such title. He wasn’t Voldemort, longing for the obeisance of a world which sneered at him. No, Harry wanted to hear his name on every pair of lips, wanted to feel the fear and veneration course through his prey when he forced them to speak his name. He’d made his own name his honorific, a terrifying display of just how well he controlled the masses. “The practice helps,” he admitted. He’d been trying to modulate the intent, to keep it as painful as possible, while extending the duration at which he could continue without the target losing touch with reality. It was touch and go, but as he said, he had more than enough time to practice. Harry merely made a pleased grunt and settled back in beneath Draco’s soothing fingers. 

“By all means, continue.” 

❛ Draco, years ago I knew a boy who made all the w r o n g choices.❜

                           ❛❛  I don’t need your help!                                                  Don’t you understand? I have to do this! 

                                                       I have to kill you… ❜❜  

WHO  → Hermione, Draco, and Harry. @slythcrnprince @infinitelyfairminded

WHAT → Based upon this meme by @slythcrnprince. Sadness, a little too much wine, and an impatience to sleep doesn’t necessarily go well for Hermione. When Draco arrives, he has no other choice but to reach out to Harry, who has been left in the dark in regards to what exactly a post-Ron fallout looks like. Awakenings are rude for everyone involved. 

WHERE  →  Hermione’s flat, London, England. 

“You really have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

“I don’t know why I believed you.”

“You have no idea how much I hate you.”

“You do realize they’ll never truly love you, right?” 

“You don’t really blame them for cheating on you, do you?”

“Yeah, but they never really loved you to begin with.”

“This tastes like garbage.”

“I could go with you, or I could swallow razor blades.” 

“Your parents have no idea who you are.”

“You sure as hell aren’t here on purpose.”

“Is it really much of a wonder why we broke up?” 

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like if you left.”

“They think you killed her.” // “They think you killed him.” 

“No amount of make up is going to help you right now.”

“I told him you ditched class to fuck your friend.”

“I hope alternate universe you gets hit by a bus.”

“You can’t change what your parents did, so stop making excuses for yourself.”

“Oh.. No, You look disgusting.” 

“Honestly I’d rather die in a fire.” 

“Your life makes Minions look like a masterpiece.”

“Have you ever heard of swimming with cinder blocks? It’s all the rage right now. You should try it sometime.” 

“You belong on the CW and that is so not a compliment.”

“Did you really think you were going to help the situation?” 

“When you say shit like that, it’s literally the reason we can’t be friends.”

“I liked you better when you acted like I actually mattered to you.” 

“Most people would have left you ages ago.”

“You’re the reason they’re dead.”

“You’re not worth the air.”

“You might still have a shot with the blind.”

“That’s a lot of blood…” 

“That’s not good…” 

“I think that’s more than a little cut.”

“You’re looking rather pale.”

“You’re bleeding!”

“That doesn’t look good…” 

“I don’t think that’s suppose to come out.” 

“That’s a bit of an interesting angle for that to go at.” 

“How do I get it to stop?!” 

“How are you still standing?!”

“Don’t get up, you’ll make it worse.” 

“What happened to you?”

“I can’t feel my fingers anymore…” 

“Everything hurts.” 

“Is everything supposed to go dark?”

“Ow, yeah, okay, that’s starting to hurt.” 

“It’s just a cut.” 

“I’ve had worse.” 

“You’re bleeding all over my floor!” 

“You better not die on me.” 

“They got a lucky shot…” 

“Next time don’t call me to come over only to find you in a pool of your own blood!” 

“You need to keep pressure on it.” 

“Don’t move!” 

“That looks nasty.” 

“Am I dying?”