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Flonne's Big Day
It was another day at Laharl's castle. Except it was night.
Flonne was feeling a little poorly, having a flu like dose, she had tried casting Espoir on herself, but to no avail. Flonne was a cute little angel girl from Celestia, her yellow hair hung down past her rear, and her big blue eyes seemed to be half open.
And Larharl wasn't much help either, with that whole never show your feelings stuff.
Flonne sighed. And groaned.
She wondered what to do. She remembered the pink Prinny who used to live in the castle, and realised she had left her stuff behind. She wondered if she might find anything among it that could help her. Seeing no better course of action she set off for her room.
(Hmmm, I have a bad feeling about this, but then again, what's the worse that could happen?) she thought. If only she knew
Flonne didn't find it hard to find or enter the abandoned room. She tinkered around with some vials, mixing and matching what she thought might work, despite not having any knowled
The name felt like lead on Sam’s tongue, so thick and heavy that he wasn’t sure if the syllable had actually made it past his lips.
The only reason he was aware of something cutting into his neck was the trail of red that was marking a small pathway against the stark fabric of his shirt. The dark suit and tie that usually accompanied the white-collared look were missing, but he couldn’t remember why.
His brother’s name seemed to drop soundlessly into the dark space before him. Everything felt heavy. Dull. Maybe he was dreaming.
But dreams shouldn’t smell of dust and abandonment. They shouldn’t be framed by cobwebs and wallpaper so aged that their floral design has faded into funeral bouquets. They shouldn’t have flickering candlelight and robed figures looking down on you.
No, dreams shouldn’t be like that.
But Winchesters don’t have dreams. They have nightmares. Sam smile
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