#reason 1

The Pegasus Moon gets its name from the herds of wild pegasi that flock to their snowy nesting grounds. Nestled in the tall mountains, Garreg Mach sees plenty of snow-white pegasi come wintertime. This year, however, the school is abuzz with news that a flock of black pegasi have stopped close by, searching for a suitable place to nest. Their feathers are of particular interest to certain students, as they are said to amplify a mage’s power. With final exams just around the corner, many are looking for a little boost to their power. [Grants Reason +1]

There was a confluence of interest when it came down to power and feathers, just as it would be for migratory creatures who knew more of the sky than the earth. Freedom, potential, ideations of being apart from one's self— those were all inherent in the pursuit of weightlessness. Sagacity would come to those who knew that both flight and power were intersectional, and there was both a struggle and slack to the balance. To spare a less-than-palatable philosophy lecture towards those who were just in it for the sake of the funnies, sometimes a certain somebody wanted feathers because he wanted to fly.

Not because of the so-called magic boost. (Since when did pegasus feathers become all the rage? He's been collecting crow feathers since before he even rolled into the Shepherds!) But, since the kids were into it, and he was into it, he decided to put up a special extra credit assignment for the class.

"You know, exams are coming up and the birdies are telling me some of you are looking to collect those nice black pegasus feathers for a little extra boost." Laughing nonchalantly as some of his students shrunk at the accusation, Henry shook his head. "Well guess what! I'm all for it! If any of you want extra credit, you can take 1-on-1 trips with me up so I can collect feathers, too. Come on, it'll be extra credit, ahaha~"

And that’s the thing about extra credit. Once you give people the choice to grab that potential by the throat, most shy away from the challenge. Or maybe they just didn’t want to go on a field trip with the residential murder machine. Really quite a toss up, there. Fortunately, the sorry soul who did agree would meet him by the foot of the verdant forest nearby.  “Lindhardt! You ready? I heard they’re actually pretty close to campus this time around~”

In Total Darkness I, I Reach Out and Touch

Chapters: 1/1, 2595 words Fandom: One Direction (Band) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson Characters: Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Future, Established Relationship, Famous Harry, Non-Famous Louis, Married Couple, married, Bottom Harry, Top Louis, Fluff and Smut, Domestic Fluff, Smut, 50 reasons fic challenge, Gay Sex, Anal Sex Summary:

Reason #1 - Because You Can't Get to Sleep

Tomorrow is a big day for Louis and his husband, and it’s because of this reason that he can’t sleep. Turns out, poor Harry can’t either.

Reason to have sex #1 - Because you can’t get to sleep.

Pairing: Mary x Female!Reader.

Word count: 808 (so much for a drabble)

Warnings: None really, just kissing.

Can’t Sleep?

You sigh again and push the covers from your body, giving up and throwing your legs to the side of the bed. Maybe a midnight snack… Probably with a full stomach you can finally get some rest.

“Oh. Sorry!” you apologize stepping into the Bunker’s kitchen at 2 am. Mary leans over the sink, a bowl and a spoon on her hands.

“I didn’t know anyone else was here.” She takes a spoonful, of what seems to be soup, to her mouth.

She’s wearing one of those dead man’s robe that you refuse to wear, so on warm nights like tonight it’s just boy shorts and a big tank top for you.

“Can’t sleep,” she asks.

You nod and open the fridge and take a box of Chinese food from dinner 2 nights ago. The fried rice smells good and you settle for it.

“I’m too worked up, from the hunt.” You explain. “By the way, that was some amazing vamp ass kicking!”

You walk to her, and open the drawer by her side to grab a fork, your arms touch for a few seconds, you shiver.

“Thanks, you weren’t bad yourself,” she compliments and you try with all you can not to blush.

Mary Winchester, the Mary Winchester telling you that you are a good hunter.