#‘well i’m the one who found her’ he says about millicent

[valkyurii]

it actually baffles me that people think malenia was romantically involved with either gowry, a man who isn’t even really a man but rather a rot pest and not to mention a person she has never met. or maleigh marais, a guy who is obsessed with her and quite literally has a shrine to her in his dining room with a massive portrait and several prosthetic arms and legs adorning the walls. like the guy is a loser and likes to jerk off over her old prosthesis. i feel like when we hand it to millicent she’s going to asks why it’s all sticky

[bweeeb]

JEALOUS

part three

Theodore Nott x Y/n Millicent reader

Friends to lovers

Summary: When Mattheo appears with a bruised face in the Slytherin common room, circumstances align to return to how they were before, or perhaps even improve upon them.

Pansy had always appreciated Y/n's optimism, which made it all the more surprising to see her so disconnected from the world. After all, how could someone so positive be so lost in thought? In the seventeen years that Pansy Parkinson had known Y/n, she had never seen her so detached from what was happening around them — except when it came to books and more books.

Pansy couldn’t quite tell if the issue was with the specific person sitting diagonally opposite at the table or if it was simply because the OWLs were approaching and Y/n wanted to excel in her exams. It wasn’t just about doing well; she wanted her parents to be as satisfied with her performance as she was.

The only person truly close to Y/n during that time was Mattheo Riddle. He had been around, and although their relationship didn’t progress beyond a casual level, they both found contentment in keeping things simple and unspoiled. This approach, as Mattheo had suggested before they first slept together, only strengthened their friendship.

The girl was sitting with her legs crossed, reading a book about magical creatures, when Mattheo entered the common room — his nose bleeding and cut, cheeks smeared with blood, chin bruised, lips injured. To be honest, Y/n could tell he was pretty messed up, and even though the common room wasn’t well-lit and Riddle's steps were quick as he passed her, Millicent quickly noticed something was wrong and grabbed his wrists before allowing him to go up to his dormitory.

— What happened?

— Nothing! Mattheo turned to the girl, who tilted her head mockingly.

— Don’t fuck with me, Mattheo.

— Oh, I already did, baby. He smiled, and Y/n groaned at his stubbornness. — I’m fine...'"

— Merlin, of course not, you’re all messed up. Look at your face, Matt. The girl murmured, placing both hands on the sides of Riddle’s face as he groaned in pain. — See? I can’t even touch you.

— I think you shouldn’t. Mattheo groaned once again and Y/n frowned.

— What? Matt, who did this?

— No one, Y/n.

— Did you beat yourself up for being an idiot?

— That’s exactly it. Mattheo smiled at her while lighting a cigarette and taking a drag.

— Look at me. — she requested, though it came off more like an order — Mattheo.' She called, and he looked at her.

— I can’t tell you, baby. You’ll be angry. He whispered, and Y/n's expression changed; her jaw tightened in a way that Mattheo had never seen, her honey-colored eyes looking so deadly outside of bed. — Don’t kill him, princess.

— Who the hell does he think he is?

— I deserved it! If that helps anything. Those were the last words she heard him yell before she left the common room and ran after Theodore Nott.

Y/n didn’t walk for long; she knew exactly where he was. She climbed the Astronomy Tower and found Theo sitting against the brick wall, looking at the sky.

— Did you come here to yell at me? Because if so, I think I’ll pass. Theo said preemptively as soon as he sensed the girl’s perfume in the room.

— Why did you hit him? She asked as he exhaled cigarette smoke into the air and shrugged.

— He deserved it...i think.

— You think? — she asked, approaching but not sitting next to him. It had been a long time since she heard his voice; it felt strange, sensing that he was different.

— No, I'm sure. He looked up, his blue eyes no longer as clear or bright, meeting hers. Theo could even say that her eyes had a similar glow, something akin to the negative.

— He’s your best friend, Theodore.

— You were my best friend, and he took that from me. Nothing more fair. Theodore's voice conveyed the pain clearly to Y/n. She relented, allowing herself to slide down next to him on the ground.

— He didn’t do anything... we did it to ourselves.

— My mother would be disappointed with me. He let out a sigh and continued looking at a particular spot in the sky while she observed his profile with a trembling breath. — I think Mattheo is right.

— Mattheo says a lot of shit and isn’t always right, Theodore. She murmured.

— But he would be right about this. Theo looked into her eyes, and she saw a tear marking the waterline in the beautiful blue eyes of the Italian beside her.

— I think we both made choices that hurt each other, Theo. She would understand.

Y/n gently placed her hand on one of his cheeks, and Theo’s eyes closed, savoring the warmth of her touch as a solitary tear traced down to her index finger. — I’m sorry, bella. I was an idiot. He apologized, and Y/n wrapped her arms around Nott’s neck, pulling him into a comforting hug.

— It’s okay, Teddy. I was an idiot too, and I’m sorry for hurting you. I didn’t know you cared so much. Too weak to respond, Theo just nodded on her shoulder and sniffled softly, knowing full well how relieved he was that she called him Teddy and not Theodore.

— I meant it when I said I loved you. I love you! Amo ogni parte di te, i love every part of your soul, your body, your voice. I’ve been in love with you since the moment Pansy introduced you to us. I just thought I’d never have a chance with you angel. Theo moved back, placing his hands on either side of the girl’s face, who was silently crying. — No, non piangere, bella ragazza, mi dispiace. He lamented, wiping the tears streaming down her cheeks.

— I don’t know what you’re saying because I stopped practicing my stupid Italian since it reminded me of you, Teddy. She whimpered as her tears flowed.

— La mia bella ragazza. He whispered, pulling her into another hug where she buried her head in his chest, accepting the gentle stroke of her scalp that Theo gave. — Mi dispiace, dolcezza.

— I don’t think I’ve ever felt as jealous in my life as that night, Teddy. She murmured into his neck when the crying stopped.

— I wanted to kill Mattheo when I saw you entering our room with him. He admitted. — Do you think he’ll be okay?

— Yeah, I think that was his plan.

— To make you almost kill me and stay with you forever? Theo murmured.

— Shut up. Mattheo is a good friend, but he likes to provoke you. When he saw what was happening, he wanted to help me get revenge. Millicent shrugged and pulled away from Nott’s neck.

— Great, another reason to hit him.

— Stop it, Teddy. Y/n gave the boy’s chest a gentle push, who smiled sideways and quickly pulled the girl by the neck until their lips touched. — I love you. I meant it too when I said I loved you, Teddy. She told him, settling on the boy's lap, who pulled her closer.

— You have no idea how good it is to hear you calling me that, Principessa. I couldn’t stand hearing you call me Theodore. Mi stava uccidendo. He groaned and kissed the girl’s lips again.

In the end, things turned out just as Y/n had thought.

---

Cute, I hope you liked it.

Requests are open, message me if you have any ideas💞

[concreteangel92]

Thou Shalt Not Kill - Chapter 5

AU Noah Sebastian x female reader

18+

Summary: Reader is a detective and is assigned to a murder case which she soon connects with previous killings and figures out the religious affiliation, proving there is a new serial killer within the city. Reader soon becomes obsessed with the killers mind and methods and won’t rest until she figures out who the killer is. All while she gets used to working with her new partner on the case, detective Noah Davis.

Warnings: none really in this chapter other then the use of religion

Chapter Index Here

This chapter is slightly a filler but it’s also getting everything ready for the next one which is going to be long! A lot is a bout to happen haha so consider this the calm before the storm! I’m going to try and get chapter 6 out asap!

Tags: @Ima1986 @hayleylatour @reyadawn @thatchickwiththecamera @thefallennightmare @calleyx13 @english-fucker @darling-millicent-aubrey @malerieee @ithoughtbynowidfeelbetter @softvgold @lilhobgobbler @glccmreid @badomensls @madomens @loeytuan98 @iluvmewwwww75 @rosebushjhj @livingdeceasedgirl @lilrubles @samanthasgone @blackveilomens @hellayeahsword @lookwhatitcost @doomhands-jr @nojoyontheburn @poisongirl616 @bakanerd @sacredthefran

MASTERLIST

It had been a week since the last lot of killings.

And you were no closer to catching the killer than you were at the beginning. It was now starting to take its toll on you.

The sleepless nights due to your mind not being able to shut off or the nightmares of the cases that plagued you. You sat up for hours going over every photo, every detail, playing the killers messages again and again.

The messages had started to come here and there, from him, taunting you.

‘Come on detective Y/L/N, you can do better then this’

‘I expected so much better from you my little angel’

‘Only a handful left to go…’

Or your personal favourite….

‘We live in a world filled with lawlessness. In most societies, murder, theft, adultery, deceit and perversity are commonplace. Many, even in religious communities and among human behavioral specialists, scoff at the idea of moral absolutes that apply universally. One man's morality, it is believed, is another man's immorality. What seems unnatural and abnormal to one is considered perfectly normal and natural for another.’

It made your blood boil how he mocked you, how he somehow had your personal number and yet he couldn’t be traced.

The press were having a field day with this, it was front page news and everyone was talking about it. People were too frightened to go out after dark or walk alone because they were terrified that the ‘10 commandments killer’ would find them and use them in his next masterpiece.

“Masterpiece….thats pretty much how he views it….he’s the artist and those people the art….its sick but he’s definitely a perfectionist”

You rested your head into your hands, not ready to face the day but you knew you had no choice.

Noah had been by your side near enough the entire time, helping you go over the case, finding new leads, dealing with people when you didn’t have the energy. Noah had even been round your apartment a few times with food just to make sure you’re eating, all the while saying that ‘if anyone could crack this case then it would be you’

He was definitely becoming a comfort to you, helping take the pressure off. You had learnt a lot about him as well, about how he originally dreamed of being in a band and that he played the guitar, how he detests subway (you learnt that when you suggested it for lunch and it was very quickly shut down) how he’s an animal lover and plays video games in his spare time.

You couldn’t help but want to know more about him and you found his laugh completely infectious. But you knew you couldn’t allow yourself to be distracted by him, it wouldn’t help the case at all.

“Back to it girl….no more day dreaming”

You walked over to your team of officers and they all looked up ready for your instructions, you noticed Noah wasn’t present so assumed he was doing another job so you decided to carry on without him.

“Right, I know it’s been tough and we haven’t had a new lead, however I now believe it’s time to think outside the box.”

“Detective?” One of the officers had a confused look on his face.

“I’ve been thinking that we need to widen our search, who’s to say that the killings started in LA? For all we know, this guy could have moved around, killed before but has never been caught. I know it will take time but I need you all to be cross referencing all the recent and older cold cases from the last year or so, further back if necessary but we need to rule out that he’s not killed before.”

“But that could take weeks!”

You looked over at Eddie Blake, an officer about your age or slightly older, he’d been making it known to you all week that he wasn’t happy with all of your decisions, he’d make a comment here or there or simply contradict you in from of the other officers. It was getting very tiresome.

“Yes officer Blake, that’s why I’m asking now”

He didn’t look happy.

“Well wouldn’t our time be better spent trying to solve this case instead of wasting time looking around other states when you have no reason or lead other than a hunch?”

“You’ll do what I ask you to do, understood?” You couldn’t help but snap at Eddie, his constant attitude was grating on you.

You took in a deep breath and looked up to see your boss, sergeant Matthews standing in the doorway, he nodded his head to your office and you knew you were in for a stern word.

“I’m sorry, look I know this has been hard but I really do think we need to rule out all possibilities. So everyone please get to it, it will be tedious but it could pay off in the long run. As you were”

You walked off to your office where Matthews was waiting.

“I’m sorry sir, I shouldn’t have snapped at officer Blake like that”

“No you shouldn’t however I’m more concerned about you Y/L/N. No offence but you look like shit”

You let out a giggle at his bluntness.

“Thanks”

“I just mean that you look like you need a break, maybe this case is too much for you. I can have you signed off for a bit and let detective Davis take over for a whi…”

“NO!….I mean, no thank you sir, I’m perfectly fine, just need to lay off the coffee I imagine”

Sergeant Matthews gave you a look that clearly said he didn’t believe your words.

“Running yourself into the ground isn’t going to help anyone, certainly not the victims or their families. And a case like this, no one would judge you if it was becoming too much”

You sighed as you looked around the room.

“Sir I don’t deny that I could definitely use some more sleep but I promise, I’m fine to carry on, I need to carry on! I feel we are so close to a proper lead.”

“Alright. I’ll keep you on for now detective Y/L/N but one more incident and I’ll take you off the case”

With that sergeant Matthews left your office, you sat down at your desk and put your head into your hands, tears brimming in your eyes but you refused to let them fall.

Knock, knock

You looked up to see Noah stood there looking concerned.

“Are you ok?”

You nodded “yeah….no, not really. Sergeant Matthews thinks that I might need a break from the case…he wanted to remove me from it”

Noah came and sat next to you.

“Well then he’s stupid, no one would ever have connected half the leads together that you have, you’re the person thats actually found any answers and has the biggest chance of catching the sick fuck who’s doing this?”

You smiled at Noah, he always knew what to say to make you feel better.

“Thanks Noah, I’m sure that…”

“Don’t even try and say that someone else could be as good, because it’s simply not true, you’re the smartest person I’ve ever known…and the most beautiful”

You felt your cheeks go warm at Noah’s compliment, you stared into his brown eyes and smiled slightly.

“And you’re the biggest charmer I’ve ever known”

“It’s a gift”

You giggled and turned away to pick up some files, I need some of these copied, fancy a walk down the hall?”

Noah smiled and stood up “And they say this job isn’t exciting”

You both walked in a comfortable silence out of your office, you had definitely become more comfortable around Noah, you’d be lying if you said you wasn’t attracted to him, he was gorgeous, a blind man could see that, and the odd dream of him was still happening here and there. However you still refused to act on anything, you needed to stay focused.

As you went to turn a corner you suddenly heard Eddie Blake talking to someone.

“All I’m saying is that clearly detective Y/L/N isn’t up for the job, have you seen her recently? She looks like she’s not slept in weeks and isn’t making the right decisions. If I had her position, I’d be doing things so differently, maybe then we’d actually be getting somewhere in this case”

His voice got lower and lower to signify he was walking away with whoever he was talking to, the knot in stomach was very present and the anger was rising in your chest.

“Who the hell does he think he is? I’m going to go talk to him about respecting his superiors”

You grabbed onto Noah’s arm.

“No Noah it’s ok, let him go, he’s just jealous and mouthing off, he’s wanted my job for a while now and clearly doesn’t like how a woman got the position over him”

“Well maybe if he could actually put two brain cells together then he’d get the job”

••••••

Later that evening, after a fairly uneventful day, you found yourself sitting with Noah in your apartment, food long been eaten and you had a drink in your hands, a scene that felt very familiar but this time, you were definitely more relaxed.

“So tell me more about you Noah, what’s something that not many people know about?”

Noah laughed slightly.

“Well I doubt many at the office would know but I’m a pretty big anime fan”

You hadn’t missed that you were both sat close to each other again, this wasn’t unusual for you now, his presence was very comforting.

“Oh really? That your big secret eh?”

You laughed with him and took another slip of your drink.

“Oh I’m sure there are more things, I just can’t think of them at the moment”

“So what’s one of your favourite anime’s then?”

Noah sat back and had a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Got to be death note, it’s a classic and so good!”

You shook your head. “Nope, never heard of it”

Noah rested his arm across the back of the sofa and leaned back more while drinking from his own wine glass.

“Fancy giving it a go? It’s about a high school student who is able to kill anyone in the world with a notebook called the death note which belongs to a shinigami, a god of death. However Light only kills criminals as he believes they truly deserve it, all the while he is being hunted down by L the detective who’s incredibly intelligent. It’s a really good show”

You nodded.

“It does sound interesting, so Light is a bad guy then?”

“Well that’s the grey area, is he truly bad if he’s getting rid of the criminals or is he the hero?”

You shook your head and finished your second glass of wine.

“No one has the right to play god”

“Well how about I put it on and you can decide for yourself”

You smiled and refilled your glass.

“Sure, why not”

Noah found death note and got the first episode up, it certainly peaked your interest and had you making the odd comment here or there.

You felt yourself becoming even more relaxed as you watched the tv, your wine long forgotten about on the table and eventually you didn’t realise it, but you nodded off on Noah’s shoulder, the lack of sleep finally catching up to you.

Chapter 6

[wisteria-blooms]

sunburns & dragons (charlie weasley & reader) (5/??)

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST: @badgerqueen07 @superduckmilkshake @k-k-merlin @kisskittenn @pluiesdefleurs@lilianelena39 @bathwater101 @evilunicorns4minions @noah-uhhh-what (Let me know if I missed you, or if you want to be added!) A/N: Thank you guys for the sweet comments! I love reading them and they make me write faster, apparently, haha. Let me know if you have any predictions! I'm super curious. ;)

CHAPTER 5: You get a lot more than you bargained for when Charlie shows up at dinner. For one, how does he manage to make politics, sexy? (4.7k words)

CHAPTER 5: ELECTRIC POLITICS

You were cloaked in warm and well slept-in sheets. You nestled yourself in that comfort for another moment before turning onto your back and cracking an eye open. Above you was a familiar tall and white ceiling. Yep, you were definitely back in your bed. It was always in the earliest of mornings that for the briefest of moments, your mind was inclined to forget what had happened the night before. As your lucidity grew, figments of last night came to you slowly. 

You were at a bar with Charlie, talking about plans…

…That he shredded.

Right, that happened.

But had it all been a dream? Maybe it was still the morning after that disastrous dinner and your subconscious had plotted out the past couple of “days”. 

You pulled your covers off and stared at your naked kneecap. There was a light bruise, a pale spot of red, from when Charlie was trying to ‘gauge’ your limits or whatever he’d called it.  To think he’d left a mark by just casually holding your knee in his hand, not even intently putting pressure on it. To think if he’d done anything with intent… 

“Get a grip on yourself,” you chastised, fanning away thoughts that were too lewd for the morning. You were growing annoyed with yourself after losing every shroud of strong-headedness you had. Charlie was just attractive and confident. But so were thousands of other men in the world, so why did he get to control your narrative last night?

You exhaled, resolving to think about it later, then walked over to the closet to dress for the day. 

Narcissa was the only one in the sunroom when you arrived. It looked like your father and Draco had already had breakfast and gone off to do whatever the day asked of them. 

“Good morning,” you greeted, slipping into your chair.

“You got in late last night,” Narcissa responded.

You shrugged. “It was Friday, and I’m young.”

There was a wrinkle of disapproval on her mouth. By now, Lucius would’ve told her about Charlie and about your little scene last weekend at the cafe, and she would’ve filled in your whereabouts last night with that information.

She looked out the garden and then back at you. “What does your schedule look like in a month’s time? Say, the second Sunday of October?”

“I imagine it’s free.”

“You best keep it open, then,” Narcissa continued. “My monthly book club is inviting a prolific author for tea. I would like you to join us.”

“Oh?” She’d certainly piqued your interest. “Who?”

“Madame Millicent,” she said. “She’s been praised as the face of female empowerment in the literary world.”

Female empowerment. This was exactly what you needed after you let Charlie throw you around like a rag doll, falling docile to his every touch and word. Hm, maybe having tea with this Madame Millicent wouldn’t be so bad.

The problem was that you hadn’t even heard of her. “What should I read to prepare?”

 “That’s up to you,” Narcissa advised. “Choose a title of hers that interests you. She has three titles out now. I have everything in the study.”

You nodded. You had about a month which gave you more than a week to clear each book. 

You had your coffee and pastry with a side of small talk, chatting with your mother about mundane topics like what her book club was reading this week and what she was doing this weekend.

Before you knew it, it was Friday afternoon, the day before the dinner. This day in particular, you found comfort in sitting on the couch in Fred and George’s flat with free use of their owl, writing letters to Charlie. This old rickety couch was now your favourite creative outlet, you supposed.

You hoped Charlie wasn’t fickle in his decisions, so you had to confirm he would be present tomorrow. 

Hi, Charlie We’re still on for tomorrow? 

Of course. 

What are you wearing

Just then, a loud explosion sounded outside. Your jerky response drew out the 'g' in your sentence. You set the quill down on the coffee table, walked to the main door, opened it, and looked to the room adjacent to the flat. 

“Are you alright?” you called out into the abyss.

You saw a thumbs up against a plum of black smoke, so you retreated back to the couch. When you returned, the letter was gone along with the owl. Minutes later, the owl returned with another letter. 

I don’t have to tell you how improper that sounds, (Y/N). I’m saving this letter for a later date. 

You wrote back with a reddening face.

You know I mean for this Saturday. And burn it, please.

The same old thing I always do. Is that okay?

An attire of a jean jacket thrown over a comfortably worn t-shirt would make your classist father curl with rage. It was perfect. 

Of course. Remember, we’re at 8 Estates Lane and dinner starts at 6 p.m. If you end up at 6 Estates Lane, you may encounter Cecile, a widow, who’s just getting over her late husband. She’s still healing, so best to leave her alone. 

Got it. See you at six tomorrow, (Y/N) darling.

In the time it took to read Charlie’s letter, Fred had tiptoed in and peered over your shoulder. 

“Why don’t you just talk to him in person?”

“Because,” you sighed, turning around to poke him in the face with a quill, “You make fun of me when I come over now, and Charlie doesn’t seem to like to play by the books.”

“What do you mean?”

“He shredded my script last Friday.” 

‘And touched me in places he shouldn’t have, and nearly kissed me, and made a fool of me in retrospect,’ you thought. But you wouldn’t tell Fred that was why you were nervous to see Charlie in person: because of whatever spell he’d put on you last time. 

“It wasn’t good anyway,” Fred remarked honestly. 

You furrowed your brows. You poured your heart and mind into that thing! “What do you mean?”

“You were writing lullabies. I almost fell asleep listening to them.”

“This is the least I can do to ensure some consistency,” you argued. “I won’t convince anyone at dinner if I act just as shocked as my parents.”

“Charlie isn’t going to be boxed in by whatever the rules are. He just does what feels right to him at the time, and his intuition is often correct.” Fred threw his arms up in defence after seeing your increasingly perturbed expression. “But don’t ask me, Bill knows him way better.”

“I’m sure, seeing they’re, what, two years apart?”

“They’ll tell each other everything, anything,” Fred added. “Actually, you should ask Bill if you need any blackmail material to keep Charlie in line.”

You were about to agree, but that thought was interrupted by an owl flying into the open window and pecking at you. You stared at the animal quizzically. Unless Charlie was continuing your pretty much finished conversation, then who was this for? You slit the ribbon and unfurled the parchment. Immediately, you noticed the penmanship was different. Neater. Crisper. Like it was written by someone who needed their numbers and figures written crystal clear, say, someone whose profession might be that of a bank official…

(Y/N), Charlie is wearing a black sweater and grey sweatpants. I heard you were curious as per your last letter.  Sincerely,  Bill Weasley

Noticing your mortified expression, Fred was quick to snatch the letter out of your hands. Immediately, his braying laughter filled the room.

“I told you they tell each other everything!” he boasted. 

For the third time this week, you were sure you were parading about a sinking ship.

Tick, tick.

5:58 p.m. on Saturday evening, Lucius crossed one leg over the other, looking expectedly at the circular driveway that wrapped around a marble fountain outside the main entrance. He set his cane aside and adjusted his tie, a black piece in his suit of all black.

5:59 p.m., Narcissa tapped her fingers on her stocking-clad legs. She, too, took to a dress of all black. The only colour on her body was an emerald brooch.

6:00 p.m., a wave of nausea overtook you. You fiddled with a button on your white textured cardigan that you slipped over a black pleated dress.

6:01 p.m., Draco, dressed like his father, let out a scoff at your expense. Pitiful was the sound and wounded was your ego.

“So,” Lucius’s voice cut through the tense air. “Where is Charlie?”

You blanched, at a loss for an explanation. He’d promised you he was going to be here. You had written proof, but it would have no standing in your father’s court of law. 

“Well?” he urged.

“Probably weaving his way through the forest,” you excused with as most conviction as you could muster. “It’s not easy to find such a remote location, especially a mansion on Estates Lane.”

Draco looked at his silver watch on his wrist and let out a sound of competent. “He’s already five minutes late. But I wasn’t expecting anything more from a Weasley, anyway.” Then, he suggested something you didn’t want to hear. “Father, how much longer should we wait before we call off this dinner? You and I have more important things to deal with anyway.”

“I’ll give it—”

Lucius was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of the front door opening. A few seconds later, Dobby came running.

“Who is it, Dobby?” Narcissa asked, standing up. 

“It’s Ms. Cromwell and Mr. Weasley.”

“Ms. Cromwell?” Lucius repeated. 

The four of you, Malfoys and all, shared the same confusion as you scurried to meet your guest—plural, you corrected, guests.

At the entrance of the door, Cecile Cromwell stood with Charlie. She was the heiress you mentioned in your letter. The grieving heiress you warned him not to bother. Her late husband, Chuck Cromwell, held a large fortune in his name before passing last month. Cecile looked polished as always, layers of diamonds and silver looped around her twill dress. Wrapped in her shawl, she looked like the face of elegance and especially juxtaposed to Charlie…

Charlie, who was not wearing what he said he was going to. In fact, he complemented Cecile perfectly. 

He’d slicked his hair back and tied the longer strands up. His blouse boasted some frilly lace that looked like it belonged on Genevieve’s wedding dress rather than his broad chest. The blouse sleeves were long, and the same frilly material poked out at his wrists. He wore a red undercoat that clashed heavily with his purple overcoat which was embroidered with gold stitches. Perhaps the most terrible thing was that his pants cut off past his knees. But his legs weren’t bare, absolutely not. He chose some sort of silk stocking to run down his legs before they were swallowed by his buckled shoes. 

“My apologies for the delay, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy,” Charlie said. “And to you, my lovely (Y/N).”

You were relieved that Lucius and Narcissa’s gazes were so zoned in on Charlie that they couldn’t even spare you a glance. Because your face was a clear tell that you weren’t expecting this at all. Whatever happened to his promise of a jean jacket and slacks? 

“I’d expected him to dress like this, something reflective of his character,” Draco whispered from beside you. “A circus act.”

“Bugger off,” you warned, giving him a push away.

“It was a rather circuitous route through the dense forest and trees,” Charlie explained, dusting off a twig that was stuck in the loopy lace of his blouse. You wanted to scream. “Luckily, I had Ms. Cromwell to guide me to safety.”

“Cecile is more than fine, Charles,” Cecile assured, smoothing out his suit for him. “As we discussed on the way here.”

“And Charlie is fine, as we discussed,” he added. 

“You didn’t have to walk all the way here, Ms. Cromwell,” Lucius said rather hastily. “It’s rather chilly. Let me have the house elf escort you back.”

“Nonsense,” she deflected, only giving Lucius a moment of her time before fixing a strand of Charlie’s hair that a branch must’ve unstuck. “Walking keeps me youthful in my old age. And meeting Charles, I mean Charlie here, was the sunshine to my gloomy day.”

“I couldn’t have assumed you were over fifty,” Charlie commented.

“Oh, you,” Cecile said with a loud giggle. You’d never seen the heiress act like a fifteen-year old.  “You remind me of my late husband so very much. Same name, just as handsome, and you’re dressed like him when we met as teenagers. Any lady would be lucky to have you.”

Well, at least someone in the room thought he looked charming in those dated robes.

“Men these days don’t possess that same sense of charming style. It’s always the same shades of black and white.”

Lucius and Draco both silently peered down at their suit of all black before Lucius said: “I fear that a storm could break any moment now, you best get going,” he insisted, nudging Dobby to take the heiress’s hand.

“I’m happy to provide direction anytime, Charlie,” Cecile reminded as Dobby guided—very gently pulled—her to the door. She shot him a wink. “You know where I live.”

Charlie stepped forward. “Of course, Cecile. Have a pleasant evening.”

Then, the door shut leaving the five of you in silence. 

“How nice it is to be able to meet your neighbours, Mr. Malfoy, despite the circumstances of my delayed arrival,” Charlie said. “It doesn’t impress well upon me. I hope I can be forgiven for the gaffe.”

It took Lucius longer than usual to register Charlie’s words. It was apparent he was embarrassed that Cecile Cromwell was cognizant that Charlie Weasley was invited to his mansion for dinner. And was dating his daughter.

“Of course,” Narcissa answered in lieu of her frozen husband. “Shall we proceed to the dining room?”

She took Lucius’s hand and gave him a less-than-gentle nudge towards the hall. Lucius walked like the troll that had somehow stormed its way into Hogwarts in your third year. Still unable to speak, he walked along with Narcissa. Draco scampered behind your parents. All you could do was stare at the chaos Charlie caused by merely arriving. 

“Come on then,” Charlie spoke in a low tone next to you. He took you by the hand as well.

“Where did you get these robes?” you asked, referring to his costume.

“It was my great-aunt’s father’s, or something of that sort. Mum wasn’t clear. It really was stowed away in the attic, and I wore it against better advice.”

“Why?”

“I’m a classy man,” Charlie boasted. “What more can I say?”

Dobby rushed back just in time to pour the wine. You were seated next to Charlie, Draco in front of you, and your parents on each side of the table. 

“How is work, Mr. Malfoy?” Charlie asked through a polite sip of red when it settled.

“It’s been keeping me busy,” Lucius responded almost robotically. 

“September is never a quiet time for the Ministry, as both my brothers and father say.”

Lucius was half-focused on conversation. He’d recovered from the Cecile incident, but there was another enemy: he couldn’t keep his eyes off Charlie’s hand that was doting touches on your arm and waist. Truthfully, neither could you. Charlie’s fingers squeezed sporadically and you thanked the wine glass for absorbing your squeal. 

“Of course not, which is why we look forward to the summer. Speaking of, where will you summer?” Lucius asked. You nearly rolled your eyes at the uppity way he worded the question. Arthur had once asked you the same, but in a direct way: ‘Where are you going this summer?’

“We spend a day or two at some of the beach resorts in Romania, or dip into Greece, but there is one spot I’ve been dying to visit,” Charlie said.

“Where is that?” Lucius pressed. 

“Your brother Theodore’s new estate in Paris.”

Lucius mouth paused mid-retort. Narcissa’s red lip was stuck, pressed against the wine glass.

You, on the other hand, had to fight the thunderous laugh rising in your chest. 

“I’m sorry,” Lucius said, shaking his head with a slight laugh of disbelief. “I didn’t catch that. Where is this?”

“(Y/N) was telling me about how tremendous your brother’s Parisian estate was,” Charlie clarified, his words full of air and cheer. “I can imagine how big it is compared to this mansion. And I hear he hosts a wickedly good game of golf, which I’d be happy to partake in.”

“It’s good enough for Paris,” Lucius said. “But—”

“See, you and I are similar in that regard,” Charlie interrupted, raising a finger. Lucius’s frown grew steeper at how Charlie was now lumping them in the same bracket. “Living in the shadows of our perfect older brothers and being constantly compared to them.”

Lucius scoffed. “My parents knew better than to do that.”

‘Yeah, right,’ you thought. Your grandfather, Abraxas, loved to pit his two sons together, like they were animals in a ring. And like an unbreakable tradition, Lucius imposed that on you and Draco, and you knew you weren’t as wonderful as the perfect little Malfoy next to you. 

“I would be pleased to meet your brother one day,” Charlie said. “Maybe next summer. After all, (Y/N) has met most of my extended family and there’s nothing that ties a partnership like family.”

“We’ll see what our plans are for next summer,” Lucius said. “It’s a little premature to be thinking of that already.”

“Of course,” Charlie conceded. “My apologies for being so rash.”

“Will you be returning to Romania?” Lucius asked. “Is it possible for you to have time off during summer with your job, anyway,?” 

“It’s hard to be thinking about the summer already,” Charlie repeated with a smile, taking Lucius’s line and stuffing it back in his own mouth.

“So, what will you and (Y/N) do to see each other?” Narcissa quickly piped in with a wife’s intuition that her husband was going to cause a scene about the manner of Charlie’s response.

“Well, I’ll try my very best to make it back to England when I can for the holidays,” Charlie promised. “But (Y/N) is also intent on visiting Romania for weeks on end if there are time constraints.”

Narcissa was startled. “And she’ll travel herself?” 

“Yes, I will,” you confirmed. Charlie glanced at over you, his expression proud and thoroughly impressed at your improvisation. You gave a small smile back. 

“All that travelling does take a toll on the body, especially that of a young woman,” Narcissa warned. You redirected your attention to your wine, evading her glance over. 

‘Oh, mother, thank you for always being so cognizant of the state of my reproductive organs,’ you thought.

Narcissa dug further into Charlie. “Have you considered settling down in one place?”

“Not in the next couple of years,” Charlie said. He was so convincing that you could see your future reflected in the polished glass in front of you, full of Romanian castles and mountains. “Nothing like travelling when we’re young, right, (Y/N)?”

You nodded. “Absolutely. We should take all the time we need.”

“Have you thought about marriage? Children? Wouldn’t it better for a family to remain in one place, too?” Narcissa asked, oblivious to Lucius’s eye that had just twitched. The thought of you and Charlie producing off-spring might’ve been revolting for him to forget about dinner altogether. 

Charlie looked solemn. “That might not be in the picture.”

You quickly looked over. This was far from what you would’ve wanted him to say, but Charlie squeezed your knee to silence you. You almost kicked up at the table. 

“It’s a shared decision, is it not?” Narcissa asked.

“Yes, of course,” you added breathlessly. Best to just play along with Charlie. “And I think, I think… the same.”

“We’ll re-evaluate in ten years,” Charlie assured.

“Ten—!” Lucius finally spoke for his wife, before cutting himself off.  “And you’ll be how old then, Charles?”

“Thirty-nine,” Charlie responded. Rubbing salt on the wound, he reminded your parents: “And (Y/N) will be thirty-three.”

Now it was Narcissa’s turn to look as white as a spirit. She had you when she was twenty-four, and Draco at twenty-six. Comparatively, thirty-three was geriatric. 

You bit down to quell the laugh that was trying to escape your lips. Charlie knew how to make your parents tick and hit each box perfectly, like he was scoring points on the Quidditch field in his prime years. In your little ‘lullaby’, you and Charlie were having ten kids, but having none was clearly the better option. You did prefer your mother over your father and hated to make her upset, but the constant reminder on you and never Draco to be married, to bear children, to be a mother yourself, was a lot. 

“Draco will obviously carry on the family name should my decision remain unchanged.” You nudged Draco with your foot. Your tone was devilish; it was time for Draco to bear the burden of everything. “Won’t you?”

Draco growled back. You both loved offloading familial duties onto each other.

“What is your reason, Charles, if you don’t mind me asking?” Narcissa asked. 

“Seeing how much my parents had to sacrifice and give up for themselves,” Charlie responded, a tinge of sadness coating his voice. 

Again, if Charlie Weasley needed a second career, acting wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility. 

“Well, when you make the decision to have more children than you can afford, that seems like an unavoidable issue,” Lucius said hotly. 

“They struggled, but I wouldn’t trade any of my siblings for anything in the world.”

The air of the room was clouded with confusion. Lucius was set out to hate Charlie, but Charlie was acting the part of a perfect, coiffed gentleman (save for the remarks about Uncle Theo’s bigger estate and inviting himself over). Narcissa, though milder than Lucius, would’ve preferred a different man for you than Charlie Weasley, but she was upset you weren’t set out to have her grandchild(ren) anytime soon. Draco, always in the mood for a snarky comment, didn’t know whether to laugh or continue to live through the horror of a conversation your parents were actually invested in. 

“Very well,” Lucius said, leaning back. “It’s a shame Kingsley’s new policies have made it harder for the working class to have children.”

You groaned internally. Even Draco, who was always on his father’s side, rolled his eyes at Lucius’s favourite topic: blaming every bad thing in the world on the current Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. It was easier for him to have sway over his predecessor, Cornelius Fudge. Well, before Fudge was forced to resign over some controversies in his office. 

“Undoubtedly,” Charlie backed him up with a nod. Lucius looked at him with surprise; he hadn’t expected him to agree. But you didn’t think Charlie was going to, based on the crafty smirk on his face. “It’ll take decades to undo the damage Fudge put forth in his years in office, draining funding from things like childcare and parental leave and putting that money in the pockets of his friends instead.”

There it was. 

Shadows appeared on Lucius’s countenance. “Fudge did no such thing.”

Draco slammed his face into his hands. 

Lucius continued. “He’s only ever introduced good policies, like the potential reintroduction of dragon domestication.” 

“Having spent a decade near them, I can say they’re absolutely not suitable for domestication,” Charlie pointed out. 

“The earliest of Malfoys have been domesticators of dragons,” Lucius stated. “And they did very well, before the Ministers of Magic intervened.”

It was a touchy topic for your father indeed. Centuries ago, Malfoys did the unfathomable: they domesticated dragons and the only way to do that was to really hurt the beasts. And hunted them for sport. The same terrible creatures that had power to burn down cities, the same creatures that people staked their lives to tame. But ethics and politics shook down on the practice, and dragon domestication reflected once again in a bad light. 

Or that was what you’d read. Lucius preferred to say that those in power were gleeful to finally shake down on Malfoys. Maybe it was just transgenerational shame. You knew Malfoys hated being told what to do. 

“For good reason. The fatality rate of those trying to domesticate dragons was beyond any acceptable threshold, and vice versa.” Charlie’s voice was now lower, more serious than you’d ever heard him. His lovely bass notes reverberated in your ear and sent a chill down your spine.

“So, what exactly is the point of your job?” Lucius asked hotly. “Don’t you, on a technicality, domesticate them?”

“I study and work with them, Mr. Malfoy,” Charlie corrected. In a battle for authority, Charlie was winning. “You can call it taming, if you’d like, so they’re less destructive to the environment and wizardkind. I can make them pliable for transport as well.”

Your eyes darted back and forth between Lucius and Charlie. 

Behind Charlie’s cool and collected demeanour, you had to wonder if he was affected by your father’s words. You knew he cared deeply about dragons, never even taking more than a week off them in the past decade. He wouldn’t ever fathom hurting them for personal gain.

“Let’s have some dinner, shall we?” Narcissa said quickly. No one wanted to see Lucius riled up over politics.

The rest of dinner proceeded without a hitch, in your eyes at least. In between courses, Charlie pulled you close and whispered in your ears. You were sure this was for show because you didn’t understand anything he was saying, or maybe it was because you were too busy gazing into his deep blue eyes and studying every freckle on his cheek.

When the clock struck nine, and the last drop of coffee was had, Charlie excused himself to leave.

“Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy for such a delightful evening,” Charlie remarked at the door. “And for such an insightful discussion on dragon domestication, Mr. Malfoy.”

Charlie was tempting war.

“I would be happy to discuss this topic anytime, Charles,” Lucius responded icily. 

Charlie hummed in agreement. “Of course.” Then, he turned to you. 

In a flash, all you could see was a mouthy smirk that had definitely sunk ships in past lifetimes. 

His right arm reached out to take you by the waist to spin you around. You expected him to only bid you goodnight but you were way off the mark. His lips remained silent. His left hand did all the talking by climbing to the back of your neck to position you how he wanted. He tilted your head back and inched closer and then—

His lips landed on yours. 

You might’ve been flustered or pushed him away under normal circumstances, but this was no normal circumstance. Unsure of what to do, you lay immobile in his arms, like that rag doll you promised you weren’t going to be. Except you were, again. He was playing you like a marionette puppet and his hands were the strings. His grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into the fabric of the dress until you could feel each one. His lips stuck on yours like honey, like a fruit lolly from Honeydukes on a hot summer day. His eyelashes brushed against your eyelids as he tilted your head down further to deepen the kiss.

Patches of muscled torso pressed against the front of your body. Warmth seeped from his hand to the back of your neck as his palm caressed your skin while his fingers tangled themselves in your hair.

He deepened the kiss once more before pulling away. 

You stumbled upwards as he withdrew himself. Your fingers ghosted over your flushed lips in disbelief, but again, no one saw. In this moment, no one cared about you. 

When the stars faded and vision came to be, the first thing you saw were the agape mouths of your parents. But they weren’t going to chastise Charlie over the improper way he said goodbye; there were no words to be had.

“Have yourself a wonderful evening,” Charlie said in a manner so unaffected that you didn’t understand. He had just given you the most electric kiss you’ve ever had, and in front of your parents and brother. “And many thanks again for having me.”

NEXT CHAPTER>>

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

[warrioreowynofrohan]

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall - “Further Warnings”

Further warnings indeed! Let’s tally them up.

First one: Mr. Grimsby, a friend of his, but a man I very greatly disliked: there was a sinister cast in his countenance, and a mixture of lurking ferocity and fulsome insincerity in his demeanour, that I could not away with. That a man like this is Huntingdon’s friend is a warning sign.

The second one is seen in both Huntingon’s treatment of Millecent’s arts, and his reaction when Helen is actually interested in the Van Dyke painting he shows her, and tries to discuss it with him. He’s not interested in any of her interests or thoughts, or in any kind of thoughtful conversation. On top of it, he’s very disrespectful and unkind to Millicent, and Helen is aware of it though she doesn’t outright admit it to herself; the abrupt transition in I don’t know what Milicent Hargrave thought of such conduct, but I found his conversation extremely interesting, as though she’d rather switch to talking about his conversation rather than give her opinion of his bad treatment of Millicent. And immediately after that, she admits that if his mockery of the rest of the people in the room was written down, it wouldn’t look as entertaining as it felt at the time.

Third warning: he’s actively toying with her by flirting with another woman and then using that to try to get her to say she’s in love with him without having made any committment to her himself. That was not done at the time, and is a power play on his part.

Fourth, which is a bit subtler: in Helen’s conversation with her aunt, she says, “sometimes he says that if he had me always by his side he should never do or say a wicked thing, and that a little daily talk with me would make him quite a saint.” (It’s reinforced a bit by him calling her an angel in the conversation where he’s trying to get her to confess her feelings, right before her aunt cuts them off.) Helen may be, as she says, more thoughtful than the average 18-year-old of her acquaintance, but she’s still a fairly normal young woman, not an angel or a saint, and by treating her like one Huntingdon’s not only putting her on a pedestal, he’s moving the goalposts. If he holds up her relatively normal conduct as angelic, then that means he, a mere mortal, couldn’t reasonably be held to such lofty standards. Which has some implications for what his usual behaviour is like.

Helen’s conversation with her aunt also gives a good display of how she’s rationalized down her previously expressed standards, from needing a man to be actively good for her to love him, to “well, he hasn’t done anything actively wrong,” and from there down to “well, you can’t definitely prove he’s done anything wrong, and if he did it was other people’s fault”. (I want to say ‘she’s treating him like her blorbo’, but that’s trivializing.)

“I know nothing positive respecting his character. I only know that I have heard nothing definite against it—nothing that could be proved, at least”

And from that point, she rationalizes it down even further to, “well, if he’s bad then it’s especially virtuous for me to marry and fix him, it would be downright selfish and self-indulgent for me to marry a good man!”

Minor vocabulary note - Helen’s aunt describes Huntingdon as a “profligate” in relation to his supposed affair with a married woman. I’d always though profligate meant “spendthrift,” so this is a different usage than I’m used to.

I feel awful for Helen - she’s so young and inexperienced, and she’s being ruthlessly played by a man who’s about ten years older than her. It really goes to show where her first conversation with Gilbert near the start of the book - about young women needing to know more about what the world is like before they’re thrown into it headfirst - is coming from. Her aunt is doing her best, but social norms and propriety limit how frankly and openly, and in how mich detail, she can talk to Helen about the dangers.

And I do also feel terrible for her aunt, especially after extrapolating that she’s trying to save Helen from the kind of marriage she herself experiences! We see more of the “friend” of Helen’s uncle whom he wants her to marry, Mr. Wilmot, in this chapter, and he’s old enough to have a 25-year-old niece and is perving on an 18-year-old while drunk. That Helen’s uncle thinks that could be a good match for her says a lot about him! Helen’s aunt is in her worst nightmare here seeing Helen be entrapped; she’s trying her best to fight it, but she’s losing.

[delilahdoesthings]

That Little Pink Plus Sign is so Unholy: iTell Everyone

Carly beamed at Freddie as they walked out of the doctor’s office. It was their 12 week appointment and she was feeling great. It helped that it was a gorgeous day out. The birds were chirping, not a cloud in sight, and Carly was completely and utterly in love. With both her boyfriend and their unborn baby. 

“So…” Freddie said with a smile. “Wanna go get ice cream?” 

“Sounds good.” Carly placed a hand on her still flat belly. “What do you think squish?” Carly’s attitude toward her pregnancy had changed drastically from when she first found out. It helped that she had Freddie’s unwavering love and support. It also helped that the morning sickness (which, why was it called that if it happened at any point during the day) was finally starting to subside. 

 The ride over to the ice cream shop was short, and it wasn’t until they were both seated at the table that Freddie took a deep breath and looked Carly straight in the eyes. 

“Okay, so I was thinking,” Freddie began “And I just want to start off by saying in no way am I trying to pressure you but I was wondering what you thought about maybe telling people about the baby.” 

“Oh.” Carly’s eyes went wide. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t thought about it. In fact, the idea of telling their loved ones had left Carly with many sleepless nights. Still, this hadn’t been what Carly expected when Freddie invited her out for ice cream after the appointment. 

“Like I said, no pressure.” Freddie said. “I’ll be fine with whatever you want to do. I just think it’s about time that we talk about.” 

“No, yeah.” Carly said. “You’re right. We should talk about it, I just thought…well, I thought we might have a little bit more time in our bubble.” She sighed. It was so nice to have something that was just between Freddie and herself. Still, she thought, she couldn’t hide it forever. And it would be nice to be able to talk about it with their family and friends. “But if you want to tell the people closest to us, I think that would be fine. I’m just not ready for the whole world to know.”

“Whatever you want.”

Later that evening, Carly found herself sitting on Spencer’s couch, waiting for Freddie to arrive with Millicent so they could make the big announcement. If she was being honest, she was terrified. She spent the last couple months keeping this huge secret just between herself and Freddie. It was hard to be vulnerable. Not to mention she was worried about Millicent’s reaction in particular. While Carly was sure that Millicent liked her more than she let on, there was a huge difference between Carly being Freddie’s girlfriend and being the mother of Freddie’s child. Who would end up being Millicent’s adoptive half-sibling. 

Carly definitely wasn’t freaking out. 

“Carly, are you sure you’re okay?” Spencer asked. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Carly responded.

“Well your leg is shaking.” Harper cut in. “Girl, you know you only do that when you’re nervous. What’s going on?” 

“I’ll tell you when Freddie gets here.” Carly promised. Spencer and Harper shared a look as Carly began scrolling on her phone. She hoped Freddie would be there soon. She didn’t know how much more silence she could take. Suddenly, Spencer’s front door opened and in came Freddie and Millicent. 

“Okay, so it looks like everyone’s here already.” Freddie said, as Millicent sat down. “You ready babe?” He asked. 

“I’m ready whenever you are.” Carly stood up. “I bet you’re all wondering what we’re all doing here.” 

“I’m not.” Millicent cut in. 

“We’re here today because Freddie and I have some big news to share.” Carly ignored Millicent’s snide comment. “I’m pregnant.” 

The room was silent. 

“Is anyone going to say anything?” Freddie asked. 

“Spencer, you owe me twenty bucks.” Millicent said, gesturing for him to give over the money. 

“Dammit.” Spencer dug into his wallet and handed Millicent a twenty. “You guys couldn’t have waited another three days?” 

“I’m sorry, did you guys BET on us?” Carly asked incredulously. “And you already knew?” 

“You weren’t being very subtle.” Millicent said. “The bet was my idea.” 

“Yeah, I bet it was.” Freddie pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why didn’t you guys say anything?” 

“We were waiting for you guys to be ready.” Spencer explained. “Plus it was fun watching you guys try to make excuses for Carly being so sick all the time.” 

Carly couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, I guess we weren’t doing a very good job of hiding it. You guys are all okay with this?” 

“It’s your choice to have this baby, Carly.” Harper explained. “What kind of friends would we be if we didn’t support you?” 

“And I just want a baby sister.” Millicent informed the group, and they all laughed. Carly relaxed. It wasn’t how she expected the evening to go, but she was lucky to have such supportive friends. She squeezed Freddie’s hand. 

She couldn’t ask for anything better.

[l4mplight]

I love this OP. Can’t wait for your Leda post. I’m adding a few things here, and for those who know how I read Miquella’s psychology, it’s basically just me bringing our two readings together lol.

I think Marika is extremely influential on Miquella’s story. In many ways, I think she is responsible for the things he believes he must do. Despite Malenia believing in Miquella’s power, (“The Mosr Fearsome of the Demigods), I don’t think that was a common belief. Marika’s ideology is one that says suffering and ambition make strength, as shown by her banishment of the Tarnished so they might “Grow strong in the face of death” and her abandonment of her children who failed to “become aught at all.”

Miquella was therefore probably not seen very favourably by his mother, or Radagon once he leaves the Golden Order. Leda says that “Miquella is, after all, the true golden child,” her use of “true” implying that Miquella’s potential was overlooked, even though he seems to be in some ways quite similar to Marika herself. And this makes sense, Miquella was physically frail, didn’t seem to hold any selfish ambitions, and was associated with things like love and compassion. To Marika, he’s another failure.

So, on top of being a child with a naive and idealistic worldview, Miquella is written off by his parents, while his brothers Godwyn, Messmer, Radahn, and Rykard are all given important roles in the Golden Order.

While they pursue power, Miquella’s only goals are compassionate ones. He tries to cure Malenia, and this fails. He tries to give Godwyn a true death, and this fails. He tries to build a haven for outcasts at the Haligtree, which could have also been an alternative to the Erdtree, and this fails too. I often see people suggest that these things are abandoned plot threads or something, and I say no, the fact that Miquella likely thought of himself as entirely a failure before his quest for godhood is a significant part of his character.

So, when he’s manipulating Mohg and trying to reach godhood in the shadowlands, he’s not only doing it out of naïveté or because of a pragmatic “for the greater good” philosophy; he’s also probably desperate to succeed at doing something that makes a difference for once. He has tried to help people in small ways, and it was all for nothing. Godhood is his chance to not only prove that he can live up to his mother, but that he can surpass her, fix her mistakes, and fix the world she broke. The problem, of course, is that he’s just some traumatized kid with a martyr complex lol.

I think a lot of fans have missed that the narrative also really wants us to sympathize with Miquella. If Ansbach dies in the fight with Leda post-charmbreak, he says that he has failed both Mohg AND Miquella. Trina asks us to kill him to grant him forgiveness, Ymir thinks it’s a tragedy that he felt compelled to do any of this in the first place, when “the blame lay squarely with the mother.” Like yes, he hurts Trina, and he manipulates Mohg if you care about that, but to call him evil misses the whole point of ER.

Miquella is the perfect final confrontation for ER, because it is a story largely about parents and children, as well as oppressive political systems. Of course it ends with the tragedy of a child who suffered because of his mother and the empire she established.

Side thing: Radahn’s fight with Malenia and his obsession with warrior culture is even more on the nose than it might seem. Gowry calls Malenia and Millicent’s sisters, “Scarlet Valkyries,” and then of course we have Freyja, Queen of the Valkyries, representing Radahn himself in the Shadowlands. This, taken with Messmer’s Base Serpent as a sort of Jormungandr? I think Radahn has found himself in Valhalla you guys. I want to write a thing about the way Norse stuff is woven into Elden Ring, but that’ll have to wait. I still have no idea what to make of Ymir lol

Spoilers for Shadow of the Erdtree but...

I'm gonna talk a bit about Miquella.

So, I've seen a lot of (what I believe to be) misconceptions about what we learn about his character in SOTE. I'd like to clear them up as best I can, although I'm no expert at the lore. Still, I think a lot of people are quick to discard him as an irredeemable villain too quickly, or believe that his character in the dlc is different from how he was presented in the base game.

Now, in the base game, I too thought Miquella was pretty cool. He had the rare honor of being one of like 3 characters to not be racist, he seemed to actually care for his sister and have a good relationship with his brother, and he just seemed like the only demigod with some kind of basic empathy.

However, while I believe all of those things are true, there were signs that there was something deeper going on.

Take the bewitching branch, for example.

It's description goes like this:

"The Empyrean Miquella is loved by many people. Indeed, he has learned very well how to compel such affection."

So, basically, we already knew he could charm people.

Here, I think, is the first misconception. Miquella does not brainwash or mind control people, he just has the ability to make people like him. "He wields love to shrive clean the hearts of men," as the honorable sir Ansbach says.

Shrive, by the way, means to confess, or in this case I think absolve.

So, while Mogh is absolutely the victim, it should be noted that he didn't abandon his original goal. He just factored Miquella into it. His plan went from "rule my dynasty" to "rule my dynasty with Miquella." Still bad, I want to stress, but I think people believe that Miquella can just turn people into mindless slaves or something. All he can do is make you love him and see his point of view.

Next, let's talk about him and Malenia. In the base game, he seemed to really care for her, going as far as leaving the Golden Order when he learned it wouldn't help her.

Now, though, people believe he actually never cared about her at all and even that she was brainwashed into following him.

For this, I'll actually quote Miquella's dialogue in the Consort Radahn fight. (We'll get to him, don't worry)

"My loyal blade, and champion of the festival. Both your deeds will ever be praised in song."

So, when he says "my loyal blade," he's talking about Malenia, right? You know, Malenia, the blade of Miquella.

It's obvious to me that Miquella did care about his sister. His actions in the base game reflect this, and he's the same guy in the dlc, so of course he'd still care about her.

I suppose he could also be talking about Leda here, but what I got from her arc is that she was always doomed by her own bloodlust to be a failure to her cause. In the end, she never truly understood Miquella, and he probably never even knew she existed.

But I'll save all that for another post.

Point is, Miquella definitely cared a lot about his sister, so much so in fact that, in the moment he was so close to achieving his goals, he praised her accomplishments.

But, there's more to his dialogue, which I will use to clear up yet another misconception.

Miquella also praised the tarnished here. "Champion of the Festival," and all that.

This is because Miquella doesn't hate anyone. He doesn't want to fight us. Consider his instant lose move, where he charms you. To me, this reads as Miquella looking for a peaceful outcome to your conflict. What does he say to you?

"I promise you a thousand year voyage guided by compassion."

And

"Lord of the Old Order, let us go together."

It's clear to me that he's trying for a peaceful solution.

See, I think a lot of people have begun to believe that Miquella is some kind of compassionless robot, but, as always with elden ring characters, it's more complex than that.

Miquella obviously has a lot of empathy for the world. Maybe even too much. Instead of him wanting to rule over everything as some kind of God, he simply wants to make the world a kinder place.

Like Marika, he sought godhood not for personal power, but for a cause. But, as we all know by now, to become a god in Elden Ring is to abandon your humanity.

Miquella literally does this, while I think for Marika it's a bit more metaphorical.

Elden Ring is about how people lose themselves in pursuit of their goals, and this is especially true in SOTE.

So, with that framework, Miquella is actually the obvious choice for the main antagonist of the dlc.

Think about it.

What better antagonist could there be for a game about purpose and cause being twisted than a highly compassionate person who became a monster? It's almost painfully on the nose. (In a good way)

Miquella might even be aware that he's done awful things, but as long as it's in service of a better future, he probably sees it as a necessary evil. Still evil, mind you, but necessary.

Normally, I'd just say that if he worked on making everyone be less being racist and mean, then no one would need necessary evil, but Elden Ring avoids this because, at the time out tarnished arrives back at the lands between, racism is literally a law of reality.

It seems like the only way to change that would be for a new god to write new rules.

I don't know, that's all mostly speculation on my part, but whatever. My point is, Miquella absolutely makes sense as the main antagonist of the dlc, but he is notably not the main antagonist of the base game, nor the story at large.

Personally, I'd argue those titles fall to Morgott and Marika respectively, but I digress.

Miquella is just one link in a long chain of people fighting for a cause they believe in. Really, his actions are no worse than Ranni's, but strangely no one is really as upset about the fact that she literally had Godwin murdered to attain her goals as they are with Miquella doing the same thing to Mogh.

Something interesting that I noticed is that Miquella is actually very similar to Messmer. Whether that was intentional or not is not for me to say, but I do think it's interesting that the oldest demigod and the youngest have a lot in common.

I'll be the first to admit that I'm no Messmer lore expert , but, for example, Messmer is often described as being very compassionate and nice, only taking on the burden of being the face of the hornsent genocide to spare his mother that shame. It's an interesting contradiction, to be sure, and one that is quite similar to how Miquella sheds his humanity to make a brighter future.

Perhaps Messmer is meant, in part, to mirror Miquella to make his seemingly "villainous" turn make more sense.

Again, maybe that's just speculation on my part, but what's important is that Elden Ring stresses again and again that there is no such thing as pure evil. Everyone's a victim in some way.

All that to say, I don't think Miquella is out of character in the dlc. I think everything we learn about him is perfectly in line with his portrayal in the base game.

Alright, it's finally time to talk about the big guy with a little horse.

So, I've seen a lot of people say that Radahn was charmed and used by Miquella, or that Miquella only saw him as a tool, but I really don't think that's true.

Let's take a look at some more of Miquella's dialogue.

"Aspiring Lord of the Old Order. If you have known sin, if you grieve for this world, then yeild the path forward to us. To I, Miquella, and my Promised Consort, Radahn."

Now, I don't know about you, but of Miquella only saw Radahn as a tool, then what's with all the "Yeild the path forward to us," and "To I, Miquella, and my Promised Consort, Radahn."

If he really viewed Radahn as just a means to an end, then why specify the both of them, unless Radahn was always in on Miq's plot?

Also, if Miquella really only wanted a big guy to ride around on and fight for him, why go through all the trouble of making Radahn a promise? Why not just bewitch him from the start and just force him to follow you?

I don't know why Radahn and Malenia fought. Maybe that was part of the vow, if Miquella could grant Radahn a warrior's death, then he'd follow him, or something like that. So maybe my theory isn't totally sound, but I do still think it's just as plausible as the bewitched theory, if not more.

Another thing I've heard people say as evidence of the bewitched theory is that Radahn wouldn't have gone along with it because Leonard wouldn't be with him.

But, like, you guys, that horse is dead. You killed it in your fight with Radahn in the base game. And Radahn is obsessed with warrior's deaths and all that. He probably saw that Leonard was dead, mourned him silently, and even resolved to take take revenge on the one who killed him, which, again, is you.

And, as a side note, Starscourge Radahn did not treat Leonard with any amount of respect. Did we even see the same attack animations. He was pushing him into the ground, standing on him, and definitely not feeding him. Leonard was described as scrawny, but when we see him, he's downright skeletal. And of course Radahn wasn't taking care of him. He was a literal zombie.

So, I don't think Radahn was bewitched. I think he willingly went with Miquella, once his soul was put into Mogh's body.

Miquella, at his core, is compassion without understanding. He feels for the plight of the world and its inhabitants without having the context necessary to understand why they are suffering. It's a very childish outlook, reflected in his design and curse, his outward childlike form representing his nieve understanding of the world.

That's why he can only see godhood as the solution to the suffering. Because it's all he knows. He was an empearyan, after all.

Of course, if he was a little more emotionally intelligent, he'd realize that abandoning everything that made him who he was is a bad thing, but he's not. He can't see past his own status, not in an arrogant way, it's more like he just doesn't know or understand there's an alternative.

He's that theme I mentioned earlier, the pursuit of goals turning you into a monster, personified. I mean he literally leaves his humanity behind. Can't get much more obvious than that.

Well, that's everything I have on Miquella, at least for now. I've just seen so many "Miquella is actually super evil" type posts and videos, and just a general increase in Miquella hate, which maybe is to be expected, but I still think a lot of people missed the point.

If course, everything I've said is subjective, and if Miquella being evil is what makes you like the character, then more power to you.

But if you, like, actively hate Miquella or misunderstand what we're presented in game, then I don't know. I can't stop you, I guess, but maybe I've managed to change your mind. I think the fun of lore hunting in this game is that everyone kinda has their own version of events, it's almost like we're historians debating ancient history. Idk, I just find that cool, so if your interpretation differs from mine, I think that's fine. Just don't be an ass about it, basically.

Tl;dr: if you took a shot every time I started a thought with "now" or "so," you'd be dead.

Okay, that's all, bye.

A brief adendum to this post:

So I've done a bit more thinking, and somehow completely forgot about the fact that Miquella appeared in Caelid after Malenia bloomed, to help the wounded.

This does, at first blush, come off as quite the dick move on Miquella's part, as he didn't think to help his sister, but I do have some thoughts and speculations.

What if he couldn't? Like, he's a small guy, it's not like he could've carried her all the way back himself. Maybe he trusted Finlay (Malenia's gf, it's canon) enough to let her do it. I mean, I guess it depends on how he got to Caelid in the first place, but like how does anyone in this game get anywhere?

No one uses ships as far as I'm aware, and the only transportation we see is like horse or giant drawn carriages, which are already pretty slow. Maybe Finlay asked to carry her back. Maybe Miquella could have used Torrent, but idk. This is all just speculation on my end.

Anyway, I also think this points to my earlier speculation about Miquella's character thematically. He saw only the wounded he needed to help, but ignored the one closest to him in the process. This interpretation lends itself very well to the idea of his childlike, naive ideas of compassion.

Okay, that's really it this time. I'll probably talk about Leda and the others next.

Bye

[fantasywriter19]

1. Melody Riddle and the Sorcerer's Stone Ch.11 First Week of School

I woke up to the alarm clock ringing in my ear again. I couldn't figure out where it was in order to turn it off — even throwing my arm around on my new side table in a blind search for it gave no results — and blearily opened my eyes to look. Becky was holding my alarm clock right in front of my face with both her hands, and was already wearing her uniform.

"Good thing you actually repaired it after you broke it," she said brightly. "Now if you'd just remember to set it."

“Why? Are we late?" I asked, slowly sitting up.

"No, breakfast is in another half hour." Becky said, placing my alarm clock on my bedside table. “I have an inner clock that makes me wake up early. So, lucky for you, you’re in good company.”

Dangling my legs off the edge of the bed, I finally had a good look at the room around me. “Marvelous. And I think I'll be in heaven every time I set foot in this room.”

I had been sleeping in a fairly ancient four-poster bed with pretty green silk hangings, and the bedspreads were embroidered with a silver thread. The medieval tapestries along the walls showed the adventures of who I supposed were past Slytherins, and silver lanterns, like the green ones in the common room, hung from the ceiling.

“I know, right?” Becky asked, looking around in amazement. "I think I like Slytherin a lot more now, especially with you here — but don't tell Draco that. I don't want to give in and tell him that I actually like the House yet…. However, I can’t help but wonder how Addy's doing."

“Me too. We won't be able to hang around in the common room with her… we’ll just need to find her during breakfast to see what her schedule is. We have to have at least one break with her,” I said.

"Yeah… pity she was put in Hufflepuff. No one has any respect for that House. She always did show sympathy for it when we were kids, though I bet she never thought she’d be placed there,” Becky chuckled. “Thankfully, our House won’t be as focused on them as they are on Gryffindor. Draco seems to really hate them; you should've heard him at the table when Harry Potter was placed in Gryffindor.”

“I don't even want to know,” I said decidedly. “But I’m sure you’ll always mess around with him as a way to make up for the things he says. It is admittedly a very nice quirk of yours.”

"And one of the reasons is that he hates me and likes you,” she said, a little too cheerfully. “So long as we don’t tell him you gave me permission. Honestly, Addy would’ve never allowed it.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “He’ll never really be paying attention to me, regardless. He seemed way more interested in making fun of other people than helping me know more about wizarding history."

“Quidditch doesn't count as history,” Becky said, bouncing up and down as she chuckled.

“Isn't it a regularly played sport?” I asked, in which she nodded. “Then wouldn't it count as history depending on where it starts? I mean, it didn't just start a few years ago, now did it?”

“Ah —” Becky said, looking for an argument. “Huh, you make an excellent point. Never mind then.”

“Point given then,” I said, looking at the other beds as I started to look through my trunk for my uniform. What were the other girls’ names again… Oh, right. “Where'd Millicent and Pansy go?”

"I suppose they already went to breakfast. They weren’t here even when I got up,” Becky said, her eyebrows scrunched. “And I wake up early. You can ask Addy.

“Huh. Lovely roommates,” I said sarcastically. “Joyous people that I will get to know oh so well.”

Becky chuckled softly. "Hopefully Addy doesn't have the same problem. She won't have us to turn to in the mornings… and she sleeps about as deeply as you do.”

⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛

After breakfast that first day, we had gotten our schedules and found all first year Slytherins had the same classes together. And, luckily, all first years in general had the same free time. Becky and I walked over to the Hufflepuff table and talked through it with Addy about where we'd meet during our shared free time and what we'd do. For the first week, we wanted to make the most of our free time since the rest of the time would likely be reserved for studying.

After that, searching through the building for our classrooms was the hardest even though I'd already been there for a few months. Of course, the only routes I’d memorized over the summer were from the dungeons to the library and Professor Dumbledore’s office. Maybe I should’ve listened to Fred and George when they offered to help me memorize where all the classrooms were… why didn’t I take it? I can’t even go ask them now — what Slytherin would take me seriously for turning to Gryffindors for directions?

Everything was so confusing, and it was very easy to get lost considering that Hogwarts had a hundred and forty-two staircases of many kinds of shapes and sizes. Some apparently led to a different place every Friday, and some had a vanishing step about halfway up that everyone had to remember to jump. I almost never remembered where I had to watch my step or where I was going.

The doors were the most confusing because there were some that would only open if you asked politely, some that opened if you touched them a certain way in the correct spot, and there were some that were just plain walls pretending to be doors. The latter got on my nerves the most that week.

As for Peeves the Poltergeist, who I remembered the ghosts talking about on that first night, he got on everyone's nerves. Or so I heard… I never saw him, personally. And I had no idea what he did to annoy other students. Gemma told Becky and I that Peeves would only listen to the Bloody Baron, and this was why we were lucky that the Bloody Baron was our House Ghost.

I just thanked my lucky stars and stayed far away from the Poltergeist’s favored, rumored haunts. Though I couldn't be absolutely positive that I wouldn’t run into him eventually.

Argus Filch… he surprisingly took a liking to me and my friends (the girls, might I clarify.) We were the only ones who, when passing him in the halls, smiled at him and asked him about his day. He seemed to really enjoy our fun-loving attention compared to the other students' extreme hate and wariness. Especially for Mrs. Norris, his scrawny cat, who liked how much attention we offered her, and became friends with our own cats. My cat Bedouin, Becky’s cat Nightmare, and Addy’s tabby Riddick.

I felt lucky having classes with Addy and Becky. I actually had people to talk to for once while the teacher lectured. Something I never got in Muggle school. Classes ended up being the best part of my day.

We were actually scheduled for class at midnight on Wednesdays to look at the skies through our telescopes to learn the names of all the different stars and of the movements of the planets around the sun.

Three times a week we would go to Herbology in the greenhouses behind the castle with Addy and the Hufflepuffs with Professor Sprout, who was the Head of Hufflepuff House. In it, we were learning about all the strange plants and fungi there were and what they could be used for.

History of Magic was taught by Professor Binns, the only ghost teacher in the school — and the only one I've ever had, of course.

Charms class was taught by Professor Flitwick, which completely suited his name, I found, in consideration to the subject of the class with flicking the wands — in which he was so short that he had to stand on top of a pile of books just to see us over his desk.

Transfiguration was taught by Professor McGonagall, who was proven to be a very strict teacher but very, very clever. I enjoyed the practical direction she took for teaching, which was to leave us to our own devices with our objects to transform after she performed the proper way to pronunciate and wave our wands.

Defense Against the Dark Arts, again by Professor Quirrell, was mostly a joke as I’d feared. It was very easily my least favorite class, because his stuttering grated away at my brain… and there was always the overwhelming smell of garlic.

When Friday came along, I almost felt excited for the weekend so I could study and just spend some time outside with Becky and Addy. What Becky and I had yet to do was Potions class, which was what we were scheduled for that day with the Gryffindors. Addy mentioned how strict Professor Snape was, but so long as we followed instructions we would be okay.

"Oh!" Becky said with an unhappy sigh as we sat at the breakfast table.

”What?" I asked, eating some porridge, and wondering about how Professor Snape would be like in class. Knowing he was Head of Slytherin House did nothing for my nerves. I was certain he didn't like me or my mom, and I felt like it could lead to him thinking I shouldn't be treated with kindness in House points.

"We have double potions with the Gryffindors,” she bemoaned.

I grumbled. A double period with Professor Snape... that makes it so much better.... Not.

"Oh, don't worry so much,” Draco said, scarfing his porridge down quickly. He seemed very excited to get the day started. "Professor Snape is a close family friend of my parents and Head of House, so he'll be nice to us. Also, as older Slytherins have told me, he drops points pretty much every day for Gryffindors. Never for Slytherins. He favors us too much."

"So there's no way he'll drop any points for Slytherin?" I asked, my confidence rising.

"No way in his class. There may be times where he'll have to drop points, but he'll avoid it when he can,” Draco said.

“Thank God,” I said, eating my porridge more easily now that my stomach was no longer twisting itself in knots.

Owls came in at the regular time every day, and Draco always got one from his parents. It was mostly a bunch of sweets and toys. I hadn't gotten any until that day when a barn owl came and dropped a letter on my lap and settled down in front of me.

I opened it, finding it was from my mom. Shoot! I forgot to write to her after I got here.

It said:

My dear Melody,

I hope you've been doing all right during your first day at school. Don't worry about forgetting to write me. I knew it would happen. The aura of Hogwarts makes you forget anything else. Even if it is school, it’s also a home away from home.

Speaking of home, your grandma and your uncle just returned. You can finally meet them over Christmas vacation. I can’t help but laugh at your uncle, because he’d gotten stuck in the Himalayas with no passport to get back home and mommy had to go save him. HA!

Your grandfather is very picky about asking me if you've written yet. He really wants to know what House you got into. Knowing him he's hoping for Ravenclaw, but just write when you can.

Sincerely,

Your mother, Orele.

P.S. Watch out for my owl, Ebony, she has a bad attitude problem. I’ve had her since I got accepted into Hogwarts at your age, and her personality is admittedly NOT the best to deal with. She’d just come back from a long trip your grandfather sent her on when I wrote the letter, so she won’t be much happier by the time you get this. Love you, sweetie!

Unluckily for me, I had begun to pet the darn owl before seeing the p.s. and ended up with an extremely sharp beak biting down on my thumb. “Ouch!” I said with a glare at the owl, who hooted and took a step back.

"What is the letter about?" Draco asked, watching my face closely as I read the letter.

Taking out another piece of paper and a quill — with a glare at the owl that had obvious anger issues — I said, "My grandpa is going to be very unhappy when I write back saying I got into Slytherin."

"Why?" Draco demanded.

I looked up at him pointedly. "My whole family on his side — my mom's side — was in Ravenclaw. And I’m almost certain he didn't like my dad, so he might assume that I'll turn out just like him."

"What did he turn out like?" he asked, his initial feelings of offense immediately dashed by curiosity.

"That's just it," I said, starting to write out the letter, "My mom won't tell me anything about him, so my grandpa’s also keeping his mouth shut. She begrudgingly told me his name, and that he was in Slytherin, but won't tell me anything else. And any time I mention his name, somebody always has to look freaked out.”

Draco seemed to ponder that as I wrote:

Hi mom,

Everything's going well as far as classes. I already have a bunch of homework from Transfiguration and Charms for the weekend, and today I have my first Potions lesson with Professor Snape. Wish me luck.

As for my House, give my full apologies to grandpa, but I came out in Slytherin. I was very surprised when it placed me in this House, saying that I have a very dark family history and that I am clever and cunning, I was so, so close to Ravenclaw, I swear! However, I am glad that I still have Becky and Draco with me. Though I’m sad Addy ended up in Hufflepuff.

One question: how much of a kid are you going to be with your brother back around you?

Anyways. Give grandpa, grandma and uncle whoever my regards. Everything is also going well here.

Your loving daughter,

Melody

P.S. Can you give more immediate warning next time you have information as important as an owl with a nasty attitude? She bit me.

I enclosed it in an envelope and told the owl, “Send this back to my mom… please.”

The owl hooted in an irritated fashion, and swiftly flew away.

⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛

With Professor Snape’s class, it went better than I thought… for me. All my thoughts about the professor hating me went away as soon as I saw how he treated the infamous Harry Potter.

He started out with a roll call and paused at Harry's name. He said, very softly, "Ah, yes, Harry Potter. Our new – celebrity."

I was seated next to Becky and Draco, Vincent and Greg were on Draco's other side, and all three boys sniggered at Professor Snape's wording against Harry. The professor went on. No one but myself noticed how at my name, which was right after Harry's, he glanced up at me. I automatically raised an eyebrow back in response.

Here was his speech to us, in such the quietest tone possible that if anyone had been talking.. no one would've heard it: "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making.

"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

I listened to the silence after this. He made it seem like his class would be the most dangerous to learn. The way in which he described the potions as “liquids that creep through human veins,” and continuing on that caused me to think twice about ever taking a potion from him, even if he said it was all right to drink.

Professor Snape scared me suddenly when he instantaneously said, "Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Draught of Living Death, I thought to myself smugly. Harry, however, had no idea... that much was clear.

Hermione's hand shot straight into the air. Professor Snape ignored her, watching Harry closely.

“I don't know, sir,” Harry said, fairly stumped by the question.

Professor Snape sneered at him, “Tut, tut – fame clearly isn't everything. Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

The stomach of a goat, I thought. I sat watching as Harry, again, had no idea what Professor Snape was asking of him, and Hermione stretched her hand into the air as high as she could. She clearly wanted some House points.

Next to me Draco, Vincent, and Greg were just shaking with silent laughter. Becky, though, was like me, sitting there quietly. Likely wondering how badly this was going to end.

“I don't know, sir,” Harry said once again.

“Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?” Professor Snape sneered at him. I couldn't imagine how humiliated Harry must feel with the man, picking on him like this and still ignoring Hermione's hand.

Professor Snape tried again. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

They're the same thing, I thought as Hermione then stood up, waving her hand in the air, just dying to answer the professor's every question. I thought to myself with a realization that the way he seemed to dislike me was nothing like the way he hated Harry Potter.

Harry replied very softly in the still, quiet classroom, “I don't know. I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?”

A few people in the classroom actually laughed, but Becky and I, however, just looked at Harry, mortified. Is he crazy? Telling the professor that, of all things to say? He could've just said ‘I don't know, sir’ again.

I knew he realized his mistake just by looking at Professor Snape's expression.

The professor snapped at Hermione first, “Sit down,” and proceeded to bully Harry a little more. “For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?”

Everyone started rummaging for quills and parchment, but Becky, Hermione and I were already done scribbling down what he said before anyone else got theirs out. That ‘for your information,’ sounded like an obvious demand for notes despite the fact that I knew each fact already. I could hear Professor Snape’s voice cut through the air, even as Draco asked if he could copy off of my notes — having forgotten what he’d said.

“And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter.”

As the lesson continued on, Professor Snape placed us all into pairs to brew a cure for boils, putting me together with Draco, Becky with Greg, Vincent with Pansy and so on. It was actually a great first lesson for me, because I learned that Draco and I worked very well together.

Draco would read what we needed, I'd get it, and then we'd both take turns putting the different ingredients in either the mortar or the cauldron. Draco only asked me one thing, and that was how much I thought the snake fangs needed to be crushed. The rest of the recipe was pretty simple.

Professor Snape criticized everyone's potion in the classroom except ours. Our potion was literally perfect. He even used ours as an example to the class as to how they should stew the horned slugs. During this time, I looked around at all the other cauldrons; each had weird, different colored smoke misting the air while ours was completely clear.

It was just then that clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville Longbottom and Seamus Finnigan were the partners that stood in front of a twisted blob: their cauldron. Their potion was moving its way across the floor, burning holes in students’ shoes. Everyone was on their stools before the two could say 'oops.'

Poor Neville had been drenched with the potion, and he moaned in pain as everyone could see angry red boils springing up all over him… so much for the cure for boils.

“Idiot boy! I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?” Professor Snape snapped at Neville. At Seamus he said, "Take him up to the hospital wing." Then he rounded on Harry, who'd been working with Ron next to the pair. “You — Potter — why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor.”

Draco chuckled softly. “They're going to lose so many points this year. There’s no way we'll lose. We'll win for the seventh year in a row.”

I actually smiled at this, so as not to worry him. But inside I thought this was so cheating.

After class I got Becky and — surprisingly — Draco, Vincent, and Greg to wait for me while I talked to Professor Snape.

“Did you want to talk to me, Professor Snape, sir?” I asked him, adding extra emphasis on the ‘sir,’ and causing him to raise an eyebrow at me. Oh, should I have stood silently, waiting for him to acknowledge me? No, thank you. It definitely helped to know that he didn’t want to take points from his own House, otherwise I wouldn’t have dared be so forward.

“I would dock a point for your cheek, but I will let it slide for now.”

“Sorry,” I said sheepishly, with a large smile. “I just… felt like the look you gave me earlier when roll-calling names was that you wanted to see me.”

“You're just like your mother,” Professor Snape said. And it wasn't meant to be a rude comment. Okay. Progress.

“So I've been told,” I said.

“She had a way of knowing when I wanted to talk. Just by looking at my expression.” I swear the professor must be purposely trying to get me to worm out of whatever he has on his mind, I thought as the man tried hard to return his gaze to his work.

“I'm pretty sure the look you gave me was for something more than simply seeing how alike my mom and I are, sir,” I said, hoping I wouldn’t have to go too far in worming it out of him so as to really lose Slytherin points. It wasn't likely, though, I supposed.

“Fine. I wondered how your first week of school went. And don't tell any lies, I will ask all the teachers,” Professor Snape said, sitting at his desk while I stayed standing.

“Good, good,” I said. “I got a couple points in each class, one example is in Transfiguration for being the first Slytherin to turn a matchstick into a needle.”

“How about in my class? Did it suit you?” he asked.

Why is he so interested in this? “Great, actually. I think being partnered with Draco was an upside. And the questions that you asked Harry… I knew them all.”

"You did?" he asked, his eyes turning up curiously towards me.

“Um, yeah,” I said, a little offended. “I read every single school book this summer to memorize everything I needed to know.”

“You mem —”

I cut him off, thankfully I knew he’d let it slide. “Not like Hermione Granger, though. I met her on the train, and she claimed she learned the school books by heart. So, she will most likely quote the book in class.”

“Plagiarism,” he said instantly, looking back down at his papers. “She will lose points if she quotes anything in my class.”

For some reason, I would’ve defended her case, but I didn't open my mouth. Professor Snape luckily didn't seem to notice my inner battle. If I was caught sticking up for a Gryffindor, I would be trampled by all the other Slytherins and lose my brand new friends. Besides, I gave him valuable information, he's a teacher; he knew what was right and wrong.

So, why is there a pit filling up my stomach?“Hm,” I said. “Well, my friends are waiting outside. I should go.”

“I see you made friends with Malfoy,” Professor Snape said, as though finding another reason to keep me there. His eyes did not leave the paperwork on his desk.

“Yeah,” I said, curious as to why he was so interested in that.

“Best kind of friends you can have here at Hogwarts, believe me,” Professor Snape said softly. “Don't be around students from Gryffindor. It’s not a safe reputation.”

“I… wasn't really planning on it. The only friend I have that isn't in my House is Addy,” I said.

“Miss Gentz?”

“Yeah, what other Addisons are there?” I asked.

“She is the only one in your year,” Professor Snape said.

Why did this conversation start? I asked myself. “Okay,” I said slowly. “So, um, can I go?”

“Yes, Riddle, you are dismissed.”

“Don't call me that,” I muttered softly as I turned to walk away.

“Why not?”

Crap, he heard that? “It's just.. weird to call me by my last name. It’s… uncomfortable.”

“I do it with everyone. Get used to it. It’s both professional, and last names are not likely to be repeated,” Professor Snape said, as though it was a perfect reason.

“You can't really do it with Fred and George Weasley in class, though, now can you?” I asked. “Not only are they twins, but they’ve also got brothers going to this school at the same time, so your logic doesn’t really make any sense….”

He finally looked up at me, “You are dismissed, Riddle. Follow directions.”

I smirked and walked out of the room, chuckling. I wasn’t sure why that was so funny to me. Perhaps it was the look on his face as he told me to get out.

“What's so funny?” Becky asked as I walked out.

I explained what he wanted to talk about to my friends, and they were very interested as to not only what we said, but how he talked to me. “I think it has to do with my mom. They knew each other when they were younger. That much is certain.”

“He knew all of our parents... except perhaps Becky’s,” Draco said.

"Don't worry, leave my family out. This is interesting,” Becky said with a wave of her hand, her eyes sparkling.

“I don't know how it is he'd know your mother so well, though. She was a Ravenclaw,” Draco said.

“I know,” I replied thoughtfully. Could it have something to do with what he meant when he’d said Draco was the best kind of friend I could ever have here at school?

⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛

Later that evening, during our free time, Addy met up with us and we sat around on the grounds underneath a tree. Well we all were until I started climbing it, something I hadn't done in a while. I sat on a trunk a little ways off of the ground, and we all just listened to Draco talk about Quidditch. His most favorite subject.

“I can't wait until next year. I'll be on the team in an instant.”

“How can you be so sure about that?” Addy asked him.

“My father will talk to the Quidditch captain. But it'll most likely still be Flint, so I'll get in anyways. Flint knows I'm great at it,” Draco said, leaning against the tree with a smile of satisfaction.

I decided to test him further. “So let me ask you this. If you were allowed to be on the Quidditch team this year for your amazing skills, what role would you want to play?”

“Ooh, that's a good question,” Draco smiled up at me, then he stared off into space. “I would be best as seeker, I think. Yes, that would be the role I'll play in the game, the seeker. I'm great at it back at home.”

“Nice,” I said, thinking that to be a great idea. I at least learned from him that the seeker had to be a really small person in order to catch the snitch, and even in our second year he’d probably still be small enough for the role.

“That reminds me,” Draco said suddenly. “I never did finish explaining to you about Quidditch, now did I?”

“No, but it’s fine. I think I have the basics down. I can watch the upcoming game to see more about how it's played. That'll give some good observation skills for me, I should think,” I said.

“Hm.. when's your birthday?” he asked, surprising me.

“The thirty-first of May,” I replied.

“I guess I'm a little late then, but happy belated birthday,” Draco said, taking a book out of his backpack. “I — erm — can't exactly get this to you if you're up there.”

I took it as a joke, “Hardy har har.” Taking out my wand, I waved it, "Wingardium Leviosa." The book levitated up to me, and I grabbed it in midair. The title read Quidditch Through the Ages. “Thanks! This'll help,” I said with a grateful smile.

“How d’you know that spell?” Addy asked. “We aren't supposed to learn it for another few weeks.”

“I read the books and practiced the month before school started. Not actually casting the spells, of course, but I practiced the movements and incantations for them.” I said, poring over the book already. I could see out of the corner of my eye that Draco was very pleased with himself. “Thanks so much!” I said again.

“You're welcome,” Draco said. “At least I know what to get you for all of your birthdays to come. Books.”

I chuckled, “That you do.”

“Oh, take this, too. It's the Daily Prophet. Mentions a break-in the day we went to go get our school supplies,” Draco said, taking out a newspaper with moving pictures.

I levitated that to myself as well and read aloud:

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST

Investigations continue into the break-in at

Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the

work of dark wizards or witches unknown.

Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing

had been taken. The vault that was searched had in

fact been emptied that same day.

"But we're not telling you what was in there, so

keep your noses out if you know what's good

for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this after-

noon.

“Oh wow,” I said, levitating it down for Becky and Addy to reread. “That's… not good.”

“They'll catch the culprit. They're goblins, they always do,” Draco said with a shrug.

It's as if he doesn't care that something terrible could have happened, I thought to myself. It is possible that something more is happening, I can feel it, but the thing is… I don’t know what it is.

< Previous Chapter     -Table of Contents-     Next Chapter >

[dracosathenaeum]

The Game | D.M.

Summary: You and Draco are friends with benefits but a game of spin the bottle causes you both to rethink your situation

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x reader, slight Fred Weasley x reader (hot make out scene 👀)

Warnings: Smut, angst, daddy kink, baths, alcohol

Word Count: 3,651

A/N: You’ve just lost the game, you’re welcome xx I also wasn't going to post this tonight but @fuckingdraco and @dracoswift hyped me up, ily <3

MASTERLIST

FOR THE NON-BRITS: touchwood = knock on wood

You weren’t anything special. No golden girl like Granger, not a descendant from anyone of significance, no. You were just you. And perhaps that was why he was so surprised when his heart started tugging at his chest every time you left his arms.

He had been with countless the girls.

He had touched you the same as he had touched Pansy. 

He had kissed you the same way he had kissed Daphne.

He had held you the same way he had held Millicent.

He had fucked you the same way he had fucked half the girls in the year.

Yet you still managed to be different.

You had started out as just another pass time, but you had lasted longer than any of his other flings, and beating Pansy was a trial in itself. She had stuck to him like glue in between other flings. He didn’t hate her company; he just knew he your company hadn’t become annoying to him yet, and that was all he needed. Maybe that’s why you had lasted so long, as soon as he realised girls started falling for him, he would pull away and break things off. But it had been almost half a year of your mutual agreement and you showed no signs of infatuation, no pesky feelings that would get in the way of good sex and he liked that.

He hadn’t grown tired of you. Hadn’t begun to find your voice annoying or your kisses dull. He still loved the way you felt in his arms, loved waking up to you curled into his side and most of all, being inside of you.

He wasn’t in love, feelings may be there, but not love. Not that he was willing to jeopardise his consistent shag of course, finding another girl to take over would be easy, finding one who wouldn’t catch feelings would be the hard part. Besides, he was used to you, if you wanted to break off the arrangement, he wouldn’t stop you but he sure as hell wouldn’t be the one to do it. He would simply wait it out, wait for you to fall for him like all the others before you had. Except this time he would give you a chance, test out your compatibility perhaps, though clearly you were both very compatible in bed.

You had both set some rules early on.

1.           There would be no labels attached to whatever relationship you two had

2.           If either of you wish to pursue a romantic relationship with someone else, you must break off this agreement first

3.           Could use the other to keep unwanted advances off

That last one was more for him than it had been for you, not many people had noticed you before you started sleeping with Draco, but none had attempted to even flirt with you since the two of you became public. Everyone knew of course, that you weren’t together together, just fuck buddies as it were, that was all of Draco’s relationships after all. But that didn’t mean anyone dared try to interfere.

//

Astoria Greengrass. The younger sister of Daphne Greengrass, someone Draco still considered a friend despite their history and her feelings. Astoria however was not someone anyone expected to try and cosy up to Draco, especially considering how Draco’s arm was still wrapped firmly around your waist as she threw on a flirty smile. Astoria was innocent, she was young, and her sister had surely warned her away from him judging by the look of hurt flashing across the elder sister’s face. Yet here she was.

A 7th year party was the last place you expected Draco to be stolen from your side, but you let him go, you don’t really have a say after all, rather, he’s the one that lets go of you.

You knew the game well, you had watched the girls before you fail at the final hurdle but you were determined. You had first noticed him properly in 3rd year, started developing feelings in 5th before finally getting your chance in 7th. You had managed to catch his eye; you had learnt the failures of the previous girls and you used it to your advantage.

You finally had the chance to be something more, to pretend he loved you when he held you, when he fucked you, when he moaned praises in your ear. You wouldn’t ruin your chances. Not yet. Not when you had spent the past 6 months hiding your emotions, willing your face to give off no sign of jealousy. There was only one emotion you found hard to find, hurt. But that usually came after he was gone, when he wouldn’t stay some nights and instead left you the second he was done with you. Those were the nights that you realised just what kind of game you were playing, that in the end, you would be the one to lose everything.

You try not to look, you really do. But it’s an itching behind your eyes, fingers fiddling with the cup you’re drinking out of and it’s the anger in Daphne’s eyes as she watches their exchange that makes you finally turn and look. He’s leant against the wall with Astoria stood infront of him, fingers innocently strung together as she stared at him from under her perfectly curled eyelashes. A whisp of her perfectly curled hair falls infront of her face, you watch as her mouth forms an innocent ‘o’ before trying to blow it away only for it to fall back. Her giggle makes you want to hex her. Draco tucking the strand of hair behind her ear makes you want to shave her head. The flush that comes across her face at Draco’s actions and his hand that lingers in her hair a second too long has you joining in on the spin the bottle game you had previously sat out of.

Downing the contents of the glass in your hand, you wince at the burn before sitting at the empty spot between a Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.

You look up to see yourself directly across from Cormac McLaggen which has you cursing under your breath and sending a silent plea to every god and deity there is to save you from that. Anyone but him.

You cheer when the circle cheers, watch as horny teenagers practically swallow each other’s tongues. Cormac gives you a greasy smile that has you wanting to get up, but it’s better than watching Draco and Astoria flirt their perfectly compatible arses off.

“Anyone but that bastard McLaggen.” You whisper it just before you spin, hoping that it works in your favour rather than jinxes it, tapping the table leg behind you with a quick “Touchwood” just to cover all grounds.

You’ve fucked it.

It spins, but the universe is mocking you. It slows down, likely to land on fucking McLaggen. He could be a fucking prince for all you cared but there was no way you’d let that slimy shit kiss you.

You cross your fingers, willing for it to pass him. And for a while it looks like you’re screwed, but just as you’re about to feign alcohol poisoning it passes him, by barely an inch, but all the same it passes him. You watch with wide eyes as it lands on Fred Weasley by that one inch and you let out the breath you hadn’t known you held. The worried expression on your face quickly became one of relief, a look of relief could’ve been mistaken for happiness, and for a certain blonde, it had.

Fred raises an eyebrow at you, clearly not expecting that reaction from you, before offering you a toothy grin that you return before crawling to where he sat, settling your arms around his neck as his guided your face to his.

You couldn’t stop the moan that sounded at the first touch of his lips against yours. They didn’t know your lips as Draco’s did but that didn’t stop him from being a damn good kisser, knowing exactly where to put his hands and when to use his tongue. Fred Weasley was good. You briefly wonder if the alcohol was why you couldn’t pull away but that didn’t matter when he took your lower lip between his teeth and bit hard.

Forgetting yourself and where you were, you didn’t object when he grasped your thighs in his hands, pulling you to straddle his lap. You don’t hear the cheers erupt around you; you don’t hear Astoria shout after Draco as he leaves her mid conversation, and you don’t notice he’s gone until Fred pulls back to catch his breath.

You catch Pansy’s gaze from over Fred’s shoulder and that’s when you realise something was wrong.

She was smirking at you.

She only ever did that when things had gone her way, which, when concerned Draco, was never a good sign.

You were in half a mind to just turn your head slightly and kiss the man you were sat on senseless again, especially with the way his fingers gripped your thighs under your skirt. But you also knew they were trying to keep you from running as soon as you could, as if knowing you would inevitably follow the Slytherin out but wanted you to stay anyways.

Your head drops to Fred’s shoulder, breathing in a scent you could only describe as homey and warm, the opposite to Draco’s crisp, sharp aftershave, a scent you loved and could almost describe as home.

All these years and not even a magical first kiss with someone (though you were very drunk) could waver your love for him.

“Draco is one lucky bastard.”

“I’m sorry, Fred.”

“It’s okay, it’s just a game after all.” You grimaced at his tone but dug yourself deeper into the hole.

“If it’s any consolation you are a damn good kisser.” Complement a man then leave him high and dry for another, great job y/n. You were doing great.

“The second he fucks up you know where to find me though yeah?”

You couldn’t stop the giggle that left you lips, in a life where you weren’t already enamoured with Draco, perhaps this could’ve been the start of something.

“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.”

His fingers slip from your thighs, offering you a hand to steady yourself before you take off, the bottle continuing to cause messy drama as you watch Harry’s spin land on Theo. Damn Draco and his fucking temper tantrums for causing you to miss that moment.

The walk back to Draco’s room sobered you up, head clearing and realising what him leaving meant. Was he mad that you had kissed another person or was he… jealous?

You had never let yourself hope before, but then again, you had never found a reason to.  

He’s waiting for you, pacing around the room with his brows furrowed in a way that reminded you of a child throwing a tantrum. The thought of it making you laugh, giving away your presence in the room.

“Draco, I-“

He pushes you against his door, hands trapping you against the hard wood of the door behind you as his mouth swallowed your words. His hands worked quickly to strip you of your clothes as you tried to reciprocate his actions as best as you could, mind whirling as this was not where you had expected this to go.

Fred’s kisses had been new, they’d been exciting and addicting. But Draco’s? Even whilst he was pissed and rough, they were home. Lips you were used to, lips that could mould to yours perfectly instantly, lips that knew exactly how you liked to be kissed.

He pulled away to bring his mouth to the column of your neck, giving you a harsh suck where he knew would have your knees buckle, using the movement to sweep you off the floor and onto his bed.

Draco works fast when he’s angry, nothing in his mind but fucking his anger out of his system. He’s out of the remains of his clothes before you even have a chance to catch your breath. He stares at you with an unreadable expression so you match his, your features showing indifference rather than the usual lust you would allow yourself.

His narrows his eyes at you one last time before he brings his body between your spread legs, his warm mouth making contact with your cunt, tongue swirling around your clit. Your hips raise of the bed, wrists pulling at the charm that held them in place over your head as the rest of your body tries to get as close to the source of pleasure as possible.

A whine leaves you as his mouth stops its ministrations, one of his hands pushing your writhing hips back onto the bed as his darkened eyes find yours once more.

“Good girls behave, y/n.” You can’t stop the moan that falls from your lips when eases a finger into you, eyes never leaving yours.

A second finger joins the first, curling at a certain angle that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, a heavy weight starting to form in the pit of your stomach.

“Only good girls get to cum y/n, you haven’t been very good tonight, have you?” The tightness in your stomach ready to uncoil when his lips met your clit again, giving a harsh suck before pulling away from you completely. Without his hands holding you down your hips rise up, following his fingers as they pull out and away from you, his cold gaze telling you everything you needed to know.

“I’m sorry Draco, please. Please. I was so close; I swear I’ll be good from now on. I promise. Draco please.”

“I don’t think you have.”

He’s standing again, hands on his hips, tongue running across his lips, the lips that had just almost pushed you over the edge. You didn’t have time to be frustrated over the near orgasm, besides, Draco had a thing for orgasm denial, you were all too used the edging.

“Unbind my arms.” He raises an eyebrow at your attempt to shift in power, but does as you ask all the same.

Your hands reach for his heavy cock, mouth giving a tentative suck at the swollen head, tasting the salty precum on your tongue. Your hands give him a few hard strokes before you take him back into your mouth, eyes watering as you struggle to fit even a third of him in your mouth.

“As much as I love to see you choke on my cock, I don’t think you deserve it today.”

You stare up at him through your eyelashes, the twitching of him in your mouth was all the confirmation you needed to know he was very much enjoying the view of you struggling to accommodate the size of him. 6 months of practise but you still couldn’t manage to take him in all the way.

His hands cup your face as he pulls you off his cock, replacing it with 3 of his fingers instead. His fingers press down on your tongue, forcing your head back, the rest of your body following as he lowers himself over you, his free hand already lining himself up with your entrance.

“Beg for it.”

All it would take would be one small shift of your hips and he would slip inside of you but the last time you had tried that he had bent you over his knee and slapped your cheeks until they were burning. You knew when to test him, and right now was not the time.

“Please fuck me Draco, I’m yours-” You’re not done practically purring your words when he thrusts so that his hips are flush with yours, giving you no time to adjust before he starts pounding into you with deep satisfying thrusts that have you drooling on his fingers.

His hands hold yours above your head, his mouth hot against your ear as he grunts and reminds you of who you ‘belong’ to.

“That Weasley could never fuck you like I can. This cunt is mine; it’s made for my cock and my cock only, do you understand?”

You whimper as your only response as his hips switch from their long deep thrusts to sharp snaps of his hips against yours, his mouth still reminding you who you belonged to.

“This cunt is mine; do you understand?”

You don’t know if you had responded with a “yes” or if it had simply merged with a moan to become incomprehensible.

“Yes what?” His hips continued their thrusts all the while, never losing their rhythm as your body arched into him and squirmed trying to get closer.

“Yes, daddy.”

You don’t call him that a lot, only when you’re truly in need of a trap card and apparently you were as it fell naturally.

His eyes snap up to meet yours, his grey eyes turning even stormier than before as he claims your mouth in a bruising kiss, forcing his tongue into your mouth and fingers finding your swollen clit again.

“Be a good girl for daddy and cum.”

You don’t have to be told twice and finally let go of the heaviness in the pit of your stomach, your walls clenching around his as your body clings onto him, mouth unable to keep up with his kisses. The sight of you lost in pleasure, body writhing under his own, the fact that he had been the one to bring you this much pleasure was all he needed to paint your walls white. You hadn’t even noticed his stuttering hips, hadn’t noticed him still before pulling out. You were still in a daze, collecting your breathing as you came down from a high you had never experienced before.

“Are you okay?” You blinked away the blurriness in your vision to see Draco’s worried eyes scanning your face, hands keeping your gaze on him. “Was I too rough love?”

You know you must look horrendous right now, sweat coating your skin, a dazed expression on your face but you still give the biggest smile your tired muscles could.

“I’m perfect.”

“Want me to carry you to the bathroom?”

“Please.”

You’re in that space between reality and dreams when he picks you up, an arm hooked under your back and knees. He places you on the toilet first, you made the mistake of forgetting once and you made him promise to never forget again.

You watch as he moved around the bathroom, eyes appreciative of the view. Watching his back muscles become taunt as he stretched was something you could never get tired of. The red markings down his back from a couple nights ago were still prominent, you had offered to heal them, but he insisted on wearing them like ‘battle scars’ to show off in the quidditch changing rooms, you had rolled your eyes when he gave you that reason.

He had charmed the bathtub to fit the both of you, sliding in first before helping you step in. You rest against his chest, humming appreciatively as he runs his hands across your skin, focusing on the way they felt rather than the ache between your legs and on your wrists.

“I mean what I said.”

“hmm?” you had almost fallen asleep, his voice pulling you out from your haze.

“You’re mine. All of you. If you’ll have me.” You’re fully awake now, body tensed up as you realise exactly what he meant. You turned your body to face his, ignoring the water splashing over the sides of the tub as you settle between his legs again, facing him, “You want me? What happened to wanting no strings attached?”

You knew the game he played well, you wouldn’t fall at the final hurdle, if that was even what this is.

“I want you y/n. I’m not going to spout some bullshit love confession like some first year drugged on Amortentia, but I can’t share anymore.” Draco Malfoy was bad at communication but good lord this was a new low even for him. You were half inclined to continue feigning indifference to protect what you had, but the other half was greedy. Draco was offering you more, how could you not take this opportunity. You had beaten the game, you had gotten Draco to want more with you, well at least you were 70% sure.

“Is this some roundabout way of you asking me to be your girlfriend?” His upper lip twitched as you said the word girlfriend, the action making your own eyes drop to the space between you. Wet fingers cup you face, bringing your face back to his as he captures your lips in a slow, deep kiss. You had had lazy kisses together before, during lazy morning sex. But this, this was slow and meaningful and full of emotion. He might never be good with words, but this, this would be enough.

You pull away from him by a hair’s breadth, lips only millimetres apart. “Okay.” Each syllable you said caused your lips to touch again, neither of you moving just yet. He lets out a shuddering breath that he must’ve been holding in, a grin covering his face in a way you hadn’t seen before.

“You’re lucky you asked now, I was hoping to visit Fred soon.”

The ache between your legs only became worse as he kept you awake for the rest of the night, edging you and taunting you for hours to prove you belonged to him and that a Weasley wouldn’t even begin to compare (too bad you never got the chance to).

Waking up with sore limbs and a satisfying ache all over your body was worth every second it had taken to get here. To win Draco Malfoy.

TAGLIST: @bbeauttyybbx @pipppaaaaalouisee @theslytherinprincessworld @fangirl-3d2y @tttyrus @scriptingslytherin @justmimithings @purpleskymalfoy @minigigglybabi @505weasleys @secretaccshh @obbrssession @whatwoulddracodo @thatoneniceslytherin @thehumanistsdiary @mariah-can-dream @futureofanthropology @pixieflutter @tobarmaidswhodontcount @dray-cookies  @xuckduck @dreamyginny @dracofeltonmalfoy @lord-byron @inglourious-imagines @audreythehufflepuff @beiahadid @moonlightorbit @imonlyherecauseimbored @dracosgoodgirl @dreaming-about-fanfictions @goldensatine @avengers-end-me @sad-bitch-h0ur @zhangyixingxing1 @yourenotafailureoverall @pastelpuffbar @miso-tang @pixiedustsupplyco @harry-and-draco-loves @tsukibaby​ @dracoswhore007 @hogwartslut @mischiefisbeingmanaged @raylovessarcasm @drxcomvlfx @dracosballs @standingandstaring @its-chickenwing-450 @iamproudtobeaslytherin @mischiefisbeingmanaged @pxroxide-prinxcesss @slytherinxraven @jinnbie @lunalovegoodsgirlfriend @Utzelh8 @gloryekaterina @capkatie @jquick-18 @imcedricdiggorys @osterfieldnholland @explxsion @big-galaxy-chaos @malfoycrave @softlyqoos @krazykendraisnotinsane @minsuuwu @lumlfy @mllzhxrrs44 @weasleyis0urking @slytherinwh0re @gwlvr @m3ssytrash @aubreyanna02 @akaaaaashiiii @carrobrumbrum @dracoswift @bitchybeatle @samnblack @dumspirospero-1 @dracomalfoyswifeee @fuckingdraco @myshaahmad77 @you-sunshine @little_me204 @lipstickandloveletters @pillowjj @meipotter @dracoismybabey @rennaisancebaby @gwlvr @alastheadventurebegins @dracosbaibe @sydnee-kom-spacekru

[valkyurii]

It baffles me that people don't realize it does not quite gel with the narrative if Millicent's born via earthly ways. Returning Malenia her sense of self doesn't mean as much if Millicent weren't a spore clone. Same goes for the vague yet certain feeling she has about her kinship with Malenia. Same goes for the whole destiny thing. It would go against Malenia's story if it turns out that she had been willingly propagating her rot bloodline. And so on.

There’s a lot of confusion surrounding Millicent and her sisters existence. Which if I’m being honest I don’t understand why at this point because the game tells us all we need to know. Malenia bloomed, and it’s said that each time she does the rot advances, which we can assume means she looses part of herself and begins to turn more and more into the goddess of rot. The bloom in Caelid being the first caused these five girls to spawn. The rot is all about death and rebirth correct? Malenia losses part of herself (death) and the girls are created from the rot (rebirth). I could be looking at that wrong, but that’s how I’ve always interpreted it.

But try explaining to people that they were born from the rot and that Malenia didn’t give birth to five identical children in the conventional sense and they’re like “uhh wot? but who’s the dad?” I’ve seen people say that Gowry is their biological father and that he is Malenia’s husband. I mean holy shit I know some people hate her but do they really have to do her that dirty? Gowry?? Malenia sweety I’m so sorry that people would say that. But you’re right though, it would go against her story if she were out there legitimately having children and spreading the rot bloodline. That’s if she even can have children of her own? The rot could very well destroy anything that tries to grow inside of her. Which is awful to think about, but it’s highly likely that it would spread to any children she had and why would she even want that? Like you said, it goes against all she stands for.

Idk maybe people don’t bother to listen or read the dialogue/descriptions and that’s why they get confused and then assume. Gowry says that he found them in the swamp and Polyanna is called adopted daughter when you summon her. He’s their adopted father and a shitty one at that. Tbh I see similar confusion over Marika and Radagon. The word “Selfcest” gets thrown around a lot and that’s not even a thing lmao. Asexual reproduction is a thing though, but again they don’t want to hear about that because I guess it’s not kinky enough.

[goldlightsaber]

A Quiet Place Part II

Wow, I just came back from the movie theatre, and I am so pleased that this movie was everything I wanted it to be. So here it goes, another movie analysis/review.

Dare I say iconique? 

There was a lot hinging A Quiet Place Part II. It is one of the first movies “back in theaters.” There was a lot of anticipation because the movie got delayed for over a year. But I don’t think it could’ve come out at a more perfect time. One of the things I noticed about the world of A Quiet Place was that, in thematic ways, it reflects our own. In the height of the pandemic, everyone in our world was scared, worried about supplies running low, losing loved ones, and grieving a life they once had. Like in the movie, we were all forced to lay low by staying inside. Maybe I was projecting my own feelings, but I found it to be highly relatable and touching in that way (without being tragic but rather uplifting instead).

Onto the actual contents, though. The opening scene was *chef’s kiss.* You feel tension right away because of how eerily quiet the town is mid-day, a foreshadowing of what’s to come. Except everything is too neat, the cars too perfectly parked, no windows broken -- we know it is the calm before the storm. I love the patient shot of the stoplight changing lights. We are waiting for disaster to strike but just don’t know when it will. 

The baseball scene subverted a few of my expectations -- I thought Emmett would be a stranger to the family so I was surprised he turned out to be a friendly family acquaintance. This worked well because it probably made Emmett feel some obligation in helping Evelyn and her family later. I also expected Marcus to hit the ball eventually because of the two initial misses -- but then the fireball passes through the sky and life as they know it is over. 

Some part of me expected the flashback scene to be superfluous and just an opportunity to show John Krasinski again, but it served its purpose -- when characters refer to “that day,” we feel the gravity of it because of what we saw in the opening segment. 

I didn’t expect the monster when it first appeared. You expect Lee to have a conversation with the cop, for the monster to show up soon but not just yet -- and then Lee, almost dissociating, is rushing back to his truck after what was no doubt the most traumatic sight of his life at that point. He starts the car with the it’s-going-to-be-all-right facade a parent must don for their child. 

There were several other excellent “oh-shit” moments in this movie. One of my favorites was, after Evelyn sets off the booby trap that attracts the monster (an excellent oh-shit moment in and of itself but already revealed in the trailer), Marcus gets his foot caught in a bear trap. When he screams, it’s like watching a glass you knocked over to the floor crash into a million pieces. My brain was just one big shout of “OH SHIT” and nothing else. Emily Blunt’s acting was superb here and throughout -- the way she played desperation and a simultaneous love for her child was palpable.

Cillian Murphy is an excellent addition to the cast. I was particularly mesmerized by his acting in all the breathy dialogue scenes where he’s protesting against either Evelyn or Regan. Emmett felt believable in all his sweaty, scruffy glory.  He keeps insisting he doesn’t want to help, but, very wholesomely, he always does. He’s a sucker for them from the start. And whether he and Regan like it or not, he is slowly becoming the protective father figure in her life. He can’t get in the way of her plans and her genius, and he can never replace Lee, but the love is there. I love their arc.

And speaking of Regan...

Wow, did the kids in this movie shine. Millicent Simmonds and Noah Jupp absolutely exceeded my expectations. Boy, could Jupp scream and look scared for his life. He was completely believable in his role. And Simmonds walks with this quiet strength, this gentleness. I loved what they did with the scenes where Regan and Emmett were struggling to communicate and she had to keep bringing him back down to Earth. I love the way this movie changes the game for what communication looks like -- there is rarely yelling or even regular-volume conversation. Instead there is sign language, exhales, whispers, the mouthing of words. This creates a mesmerizing atmosphere for the movie. These silences and moments of white-noise do not mean the absence of humans speaking to each other. 

I’m not sure how I feel about the shady, red-eyed community of people on the docks. They looked like they were all on drugs and walked like zombies. And the creepy little girl who trapped Emmett just felt like she belonged to another genre of horror? This isn’t a “creepy children” horror movie, it’s an eldritch monster horror movie! It wasn’t the most believable plot point but I wasn’t super opposed to it, either. I wanted to know more about these shady people. I fully expected them to take Emmett and Regan back to their leader or tribal base, but nope, they were just shady people (the kind not worth saving). 

This isn’t a criticism per say but I was definitely expecting more scenes between Emmett and the entire Abbott family, so I was a little sad they split them up and we didn’t get a reunion. This is a possible tease for a third movie -- as is the expanding world of the island and the lack of a total end to the apocalypse. And, of course, there are hints that Evelyn and Emmett might have a future together -- Evelyn symbolically takes off her wedding ring and Emmett reluctantly but naturally fills the father role for the children. At the same time, we leave off at a point where we can imagine what happens next and don’t need to know more -- it can be up to our interpretation. They can end the movie there, since it is clear that the children have figured out how to defeat the monsters.

And speaking of that, the ending had a very Stranger Things feel to it. Never mind that the monsters from each respective series look almost identical -- the ending takes a surprise turn when it is the two Abbott children who take things into their own hands and kill the monsters while their parental figures literally sit back and watch in awe. I appreciated the message here: that young people are innovative, strong and brave enough to do the right thing. They are capable of great things; it’s all right to trust them and let them take the reins. 

I think the movie’s atmosphere is just lovely. Just because it’s horror doesn’t mean there can’t be scenic shots of a sunset on the beach. That’s what I like about both movies so much -- they don’t feel like most horror movies because they still leave room for beauty and tenderness and hope.

Overall, a very enjoyable film. I would love to see the family reunion if there is a sequel -- and that the potential sequel is helmed by the right writers/director once again! Go, John Krasinski! He killed it.

[marvel-ousnesss]

Unrequited (Valerio x reader)

Warnings: angst, use of drugs, alcohol, cursing, cheating, breakup, mentions of Valerio x Lucrecia 

Word count: 2000-ish

A/N: Sorry this took so long, I hadn't been motivated to write anything until recently. As always, I love to hear comments, thoughts and feedback. Also, thank you so much for supporting my work, hope you enjoy 💜

Masterlist

Request

“Stop it, Valerio.” You abruptly close the book you're holding, eyeing the teacher as you place it on the desk. “They won't even let me get out of the house.”

He had been nagging you all week long about some party he was dying to go to, and you wanted to, really. The only problem was that, a few days ago, the two of you had dragged Guzman on a nightly adventure to the beach, which seemed right at the moment, since he had spent the whole summer sulking. Your dad practically had to drag you home by an ear, and, to say the least, your family didn’t wanna hear a beat about parties or your friends any time soon.

He scoffs, “seriously? Your parents are like the chillest people ever, they weren’t even that mad.”

Incredulous, you look at him up and down, betrayed by the amused grin that flicks on the corner of your lips. “Just checking, were you there on Thursday? One step out of line, and I'll be walking around with an ankle monitor.”

“Y/N, Valerio, is my class, perchance, interrupting your conversation? Should I take it elsewhere?”

With a quick apology and a glare at your boyfriend, cutting the conversation was cut short. However, it was naive to think he'd just settle for the answer you had given him.

“Whatever, Y/N," he grumbles. "I’m sure They'll let you if I,” he frames his face and smiles coyly, “am the one who asks.”

"Geez, why didn't I think of that!". Turning the page of your textbook, you deadpan. "Oh, right, dick-in-a-sock incident.”

Valerio lowers himself on his seat as his face embraces a new tone of crimson. After a second, he recovers. “Can't believe you brought up that teeny-tiny mistake of mine. Low, Y/L/N, even for you.”

You open your mouth to respond, but the bell rings.

When it stops, you continue, “Seriously, V, they've been all over me these last few days, it's a long shot.”

Both of you get out of the classroom and begin to make your way to the lockers. “Just tell them Polo’s gonna be there, don’t they love Polo?”

You sigh, checking the time on your phone. You only have fifteen minutes before your next class began, and, honestly, lack the energy to spend them trying to knock some sense into your mule of a boyfriend.

“Fine,” you settle. “I’ll call them in a minute. But, don’t get your hopes up.”

“Too late.” With a captivating smile, he leans in and pecks your cheek.

After you agreed to at least call your parents, Valerio's mood improved considerably the rest of the day. The rest of the classes went by uneventfully; before you knew it, you found yourself in the car, duffle in hand, on your way to the Montesinos'.

You arrive at their house and let yourself inside, leaving your stuff at the door and heading straight to the kitchen, looking for something to drink. When you turn around to face the stairs, Lu’s making her way down.

"So, how did you manage to dodge your sentence this time?"

"Haggled my freedom, sort of." You place a glass on the table and open the fridge to fetch a bottle of sparkling water.

She rolls her eyes and sighs, exasperated. "A call from my dad would’ve done it".

"Thanks, but it wasn’t that bad, really, " you assure, pouring some water into the glass then cutting a lemon in half. "Just have to take my brother to some birthday party next week and, in exchange, they gave me their blessing for Valerio's thing, and let me stay at yours after."

"God, Y/N, you complain about my brother 24/7 and, in the end, the two of you are just as stubborn."She grabs an apple and takes a bite. "You could've saved yourself the trouble completely."

"Oh, well."You take a seat by the kitchen bar. "Guess it takes one to know one."

"Anyway, what are you wearing tonight?"

You unlock your phone and browse through the gallery. When you find the picture, you stop and point a finger at her. "You're gonna hate me. " You show her the screen smiling from ear to ear.

"Oh, my fucking god, Y/N! How- I- is that the Valentino you were drooling over the other day?"

You just grin.

"You, bitch, how did you get your hands on that?"

"Aunt Millicent."

"Of course," she huffs.

"Turns out that there were a few perks of her going off to Milan." You shrug. "But that's not important right now, what are you gonna wear?"

With that. she drags you up the stairs and into her room. You spend the rest of the afternoon immersed in makeup experiments and debates about fashion until Valerio and Guzman shout your names to start pregaming.

You enter the party together and go straight to the most vacant area of the VIP zone. After grabbing the first round, you join the others at the table and sit down with Polo and Carla for a few drinks. The group remains wrapped in conversation until Ander walks up to his friends and drags them to the bar, probably to tell them about his most recent disagreement with Omar. Soon after, Lucrecia makes eye contact with Nadia, muttering something about her daring to come, and standing up with a huff. Knowing she's physically incapable of keeping herself out of trouble, Carla stands up with a roll of her eyes and follows her.

Valerio lets his arm fall around you and chuckles, taking a sip of his drink. "And then, there were two."

“Wanna get high?" You don't wait for him to answer verbally. Instead, you grab his hands and pull the two of you to stand up.

He laughs, grabbing a bottle of whatever was on the table beside yours.

The two of you sprinted to the nearest restroom in a fit of giggles and lock the door behind you. He puts the bottle on the counter and reaches his pockets, freezing as soon as he lifts his gaze. You dig into your clutch and shake a small bag in his face.

"My treat," you grin, resembling a kid in a candy store.

"Oh, my, little miss Y/LN!" he gasps in fake horror. "What happened to the ankle monitor you were telling me about."

"I won’t tell if you won’t."You smirk, carefully arranging the lines.

The party comes to an end a few minutes before sunrise. You reunite with Lucrecia and Guzman by the entrance of the club and the four of you get in the Montesinos' car. Your head rests on Valerio's chest and he traces lazy patterns on the skin of your arm and shoulder.

When you make it to the house, Lucrecia doesn't waste a minute to drag a tipsy Guzman upstairs, waving a quick goodbye on her way. You giggle, well aware of your friends' plans for the night. Then, you head to the kitchen for a snack.

"Confess it." Your boyfriend stares at you from the stairs, arms crossed over his chest. "The only reason you ever visit is that we have a better pantry."

"To be honest, I thought you already knew that." You grab a pack of chips and walk toward his bedroom, passing by him and kissing his nose softly.

You don't fall asleep that night, writhing in Valerio's arms and debating whether or not to go find something for the hangover that was already beginning to haunt you. When you open your eyes, the first rays of sunlight are already peeking through the window. You decide to get out of bed. You throw the blanket off you and turn, expecting to see your boyfriend, but only find a mess of his blankets instead. You check the time on your cell phone: 8:22 a.m.

Seeing no point in continuing your attempts to get some sleep, you put on the shirt that was laying on Valerio's desk chair and leave the room. As you're crossing the hall to the pool, you hear noises coming through Lucrecia's door. For a moment, you think it may be her and Guzman, but remember hearing him say that he had to go home at dawn to get to a swimming competition.

You try to ignore the noise and convince yourself it's none of your business; but, when you continue to walk away, your ears are invaded by a voice you knew quite well. "It couldn't, they can't-, they're...", a million thoughts invade you. You take a deep breath and to open the door.

There are no words to describe the feeling of your heart being ripped in the blink of an eye. Your legs threaten to collapse and blood rushes to your head, making you dizzy for a brief moment. Not only do you find your boyfriend in the bed, with an unreadable expression coating his face, but you find your best friend redhanded, looking right at you like a deer in headlights.

You don't even try to digest the scene; instead, you run out of the house, suddenly not caring about your current apparel. Part of you wanted to shout what you had seen, to ruin them, but they meant too most to you. You couldn't do it, no matter how much you wanted to get it off your chest.

Luckily, your house was empty. You went straight upstairs and locked yourself in your room for the rest of the morning. You did whatever you could to take your head off what you had seen, but nothing worked. In the end, you wrote it down, desperate to get it out somehow. You hadn't opened your diary since you were twelve, but it was relieving; a weight was lifted off your shoulders.

You spend the remaining of the day so deep in thought, that you didn't even notice your family arriving from the park. You drifted off to sleep after working on some homework, only to be woken up by our brother's voice.

"Y/N, your boyfriend's here!" Hearing the word sends a jab of pain through your body. However, you reply, "I'll be down in a second."

You put on a hoodie, some shoes and leave the fort that was your room. Your parents are focused on a movie, so you take the opportunity to step into the backyard with Valerio.

You face him, trying to appear emotionless, even if your bloodshot eyes give you away.The childish gleam in his face is nowhere to be found, his shoulders are more drooping than normal, and his eyes are almost as red as yours. You wonder if it's because of the crying or the cocaine.

“How long?”

“Before I went abroad.”

You attempt to walk back into the house, but he grabs and pulls your arm, begging you to stay and listen.

You sigh. “I won't say anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He stays silent for a few seconds, bringing himself to believe that your thoughts on him were actually that low. Then he mumbles, “I don’t care about that, I know it’s unorthodox, and that you’re probably gonna stop talking to us now, and-“

You didn’t have the energy to hear him ramble. “Look, yes, I’m really shaken, to say the least, it's the first time I’ve seen something like that.” You grimaced. “But, the point is you betrayed my trust, V! Completely!” Your voice shakes, you try to clear your throat but it comes out as a sob. “I- even if it hadn’t been her, you hurt me. You promised you’d never do it, but you did!

He takes your hands, and, even if you don’t resist, feels how tense that makes you. Hours prior, it would’ve been comforting. “And I’m sorry, really. I did it without thinking, Y/N/N, it won’t happen again.”

You pull your hands out of his. “Please, V, it’s been happening for more than a year, half of the time we’ve been dating.”

He stays quiet.

You quietly question, “do you still love me?”

This time, his bottom lip quivers and his voice cracks when he answers. “I care about you, a lot, you know that.”

That’s the last you bear to hear. You avert your eyes from him. “I forgive you. You can go now.”

“Y/N/N…” He moves closer to you, but you shake your head, stopping him.

“Please,” you croak.

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Hogwarts No.1 Ship

Fandom: Harry Potter  Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader Word count: 3.4k Summary: You - Rubeus Hagrid’s niece and a surprising slytherin - have a crush on the Slytherin prince himself, but you are sugar and he is spice and there is no world where the two of you would fit together...right? Warning: Swearwordsm concussion, broken bones, but mostly fluffffffffff Requested by the amazing and patient (I’m really sorry it took so long) @onlycherryblossom​: Hi! I love your work and I was wondering if you could right a Draco Malfoy x Reader. you know, the one we talked about. It'd be so awesome! i hope you have a good day/night! (I won’t put our chat in here so that I don’t spoiler anything)

Hogwarts had rarely ever known two students who were as opposite to each other as Draco Malfoy and Y/N Hagrid. Draco - who was the embodiment of how people imagined the stereotype of Slytherin to be - was (most of the time) a prideful, cold, unempathetic prick, while you were a selfless, positive thinking, kind and gentle soul that could‘ve been a descendant of Helga Huffelpuff herself. The two of you did have one thing in common though. Your house. The hat had made you both into Slytherins which was on Draco’s side not surprising at all, but quite a shock for everyone who had talked to you for even a minute. Probably the biggest shock was courtesy of Rubeus Hagris - Half-Giant and your adopted uncle (on his father’s side) - who insisted that the hat must have made a mistake, but was quickly shot down by Dumbledoor who assured that the hat didn‘t make any mistakes. After some initial tumbling though, Hagrid realized that the house didn‘t make the person and that it didn‘t matter in what house you were sorted into, you’d always be his little pumpkin. And he was quite right. Even after you had been a Slytherin for just about five years, you had only grown more kind and loving - having bonded with many people in the other houses and years, but not quite as many in your own house. You’d call Blaze and Millicent maybe something close to friends and Pansy tolerated you which is why you gave her the title of ‘good acquaintances‘, but other than that you didn‘t really have a lot of contact with them in your free time. The most complicated relationship you held though was the one to the aforementioned Draco Malfoy. In a weird twist of fate the two of you somehow became the main ship in Hogwarts (with Harry and Ginny or Harry and Hermione as close second) even though you couldn‘t remember more than two or three times that you had talked to the boy outside of a classroom or study environment. Sure, he had never bullied or teased you which already differentiated you from most of the students, but you simply explained it by the fact that you were a good student - especially in potions class - and behaved well enough to gain a number of house points which made you into a good asset to Slytherin and as such made you a less logical target. Now all in itself that would‘ve been more than fine with you, but for some stupid reason your heart decided to betray you against it‘s better judgement and fall for him. Somehow, even after years of seeing him kick others down and behave like a complete douchebag you couldn‘t help but blush slightly at the mention of his name and feel your heart flutter when you walked by him in the hall or in the common room. The worst part was in potions class where he sat right beside you after Snape deemed your former partner as way too unqualified for one of his best students and exchanged him for Draco. Working with him in and of itself was actually rather nice. He was a good student and did his work thoroughly and mindfully, but you found it hard to concentrate when his hand brushed yours as you read a passage in the book or when he poured ingredients in the coultron that you were stirring. You really tried to ignore your feelings and ban every thought of him, but it seemed like you weren‘t doing the best job at it since your uncle kept asking about what it was that was distracting you all the time. On a rainy October day fairly at the beginning of your fifth year you decided you had enough. You were sitting in your Uncles hut with a plate of more or less edible cookies in front of you and a cup of something that was surely supposed to be tea when you finally gathered the courage to say what you had been meaning to say for weeks now. “Uncle Rubeus, can I ask you something?” Hagrid turned to you with his usual smile as he patted fang who was drooling all over his lap where he had laid his head. “Course ya can pumpkin. What’s it about?” “Uhm...well… you know there is this boy that I-“ “Ohhh Ah see,” Hagrid quickly interrupted you before you could even ask the question, “Ya know, usually I’d be more than happy to help ya with every question you have but ah really don’t thin’ I’m the right person for this, I’m sorry.” A little bit disappointed but not really surprised you just sighed and shook your head, telling him that it was okay, before bidding your goodbyes and making your way back to the castle quietly mulling over what exactly your plan b should be now that plan a had failed and you still had no idea what to do with or how to get rid of your stupid crush on Draco.

“You know what I would do if I were you?“ Ginny asked and pointed the end of her quill at you. The both of you were sitting in a corner of the library where you had planned to help her study for her upcoming potions exam, only for her to basically interrogate you until you admitted that you had an unlucky crush, even though she luckily hadn‘t pushed you to tell her who the guy you had a crush on was. “I‘d probably just tell them, I mean what do you have to lose. Either he‘ll say yes and you‘re happy or he says no and you just avoid him like he doesn‘t even exist - which would honestly be the appropriate reaction if he refuses a snack like you. See, no real downside to it.“ “Oh really? Hmmm, I wonder why you haven‘t told Harry how you feel yet then,“ you teased her and tapped your chin. Ginny‘s face immediately started to rival the colour of her hair and the way she crossed her arms in front of her chest and pouted reminded you of an overgrown toddler - but in a cute way. “I-I don‘t like Harry, okay? I mean I did when I was like ten because he was famous and I was a child,“ she tried to make sure you really knew how silly she wanted you to believe she thought it was by drawing out the word child for a good few seconds before rolling her eyes and looking to the side, “And anyway, it‘s not like he‘d date his best friend’s sister…“ “Oh Gin,“ you immediately felt bad and grabbed one of her hands with yours, “Have you looked at yourself? You‘re amazing and if Harry doesn‘t see that through his stupid invisible cloak and these glasses than he doesn‘t even deserve you.“ “Even though I admit that yes, I am amazing, this isn‘t the topic that we should be conversing about right now, remember? I think there‘s a certain blond Slytherin that you should be worried about more right now.“ Immediately blood shot right to your cheeks and you quickly looked around to make sure no one could‘ve heard her before leaning forward and hissing: “What? No? I don‘t like Draco? Why would you even think that? I never said that he is the one I have a crush on.“ Ginny just raised her eyebrows in an unimpressed manner, leaning back in her chair and picking the quill back up to play around with while she talked. “Listen honey, I‘m not judging you or anything. Don‘t get me wrong, I still and probably will always think Draco is a major asshole and doesn‘t even deserve to breath the same air as you-“ “He isn‘t that bad…“ “Yes he is, but anyways, no matter what I think of him I also know that you are a clever girl that knows how to protect herself and who knows, maybe you‘d even have a good influence on him.“ Images of you and Draco together with your friend group laughing and having fun crossed your mind and you could feel your heartbeat fasten involuntarily. “That‘s all great and good, but like I said, I don‘t have a crush on Draco,“ you gave the hope of getting out of this situation with the lie you‘ve been telling yourself for months still intact one last try, but Ginny didn‘t give it the time of day. “Oh please, I see the way you look at him in the dining hall and how your eyes are always on him when he‘s playing quidditch and just now you defended him even though the two of you aren‘t even friends. My love-radar is pinging like crazy around the two of you which is why I, Ginny Wealey also known as the love witch-“ “No one calls you that,“ you interrupted her only to be shushed by an evil glare. “I, Ginny Weasley, will help you in fulfilling your desire and getting together with Draco and I already have the perfect plan.“ “No no no no, please don‘t! Don‘t do this! Ginny no!“ you tried to make your point clear but she was already cleaning up her stuff and getting ready to leave. “Don‘t worry oh sweet Y/N, the next time we‘ll talk everything will be set in motion,“ she winked before dashing off leaving you standing in her figurative dust with your mouth agape for a few seconds before you let your head sink onto the table. This would definitely take an interesting turn…

After that you definitely started to actively avoid Draco which was - surprisingly enough - not as easy as you thought. Somehow he was almost always at least in your near vicinity. Besides the obvious factors of class (where you tried to focus on working and on praying whatever Ginny had planned wouldn‘t happen) and when you were eating in the great hall (where you had resorted to sitting at the very end of the table as far away from him as possible) he seemed to also be there in your free time. You were relaxing in the common room? He was there reading a book. You were outside with Harry and co.? Guess who’s coming their way to insult them (while not saying a single bad thing about you). By now there were just about three places where you were sure that he wouldn’t be able to pop up at any given moment. Your room, the bathroom and the potions classroom on Wednesday and Friday afternoon when class has already ended. After Snape had realized that he had some real potions-potential sitting in front of him he offered you extra credit as some sort of teaching assistant which basically meant that you helped him prepare lessons, helped him grade the first to third years tests and that you cleaned up and organized the potions classroom twice a week. Now usually, knowing that you were more than capable of handling the potions and ingredients standing around on your own after having seen you do it for a few months, you‘d be alone while you cleaned up except for the occasional visit of your professor to tell you which ingredients you should put on the students desks for the next class, but for some reason the next Friday - three days after Ginny had made her promise to you - the door already stood open and you could hear Professor Snape talking to someone. “I really expected better of you, your action is the reasons Slytherin has lost 50 housepoints and I hope you know that it is on you to gain them back, no matter your status,“ Snape‘s voice carried to where you stood and you wondered who the student was if Snape went so easy on them with his lecture. Usually you‘d be afraid for your life after losing even ten house points so getting such a calm reaction for 50 must‘ve really meant something. Your questions about the identity of the student were answered when you entered the dungeon room and immediately felt yourself freeze. Of course not even you (time dependent) sanctuary was safe anymore. Of course Draco just had to stand there and look at you without any identifiable emotion in his gaze. “Ah, Miss Hagrid, right on time as always,“ Snape nodded after he also noticed you and you felt slightly more at ease knowing that with him there nothing could really happen. “Should I come back later?” you asked politely, not sure if you had interrupted something. “No, you may stay. Mister Malfoy over here has got himself caught trying to sabotage McGonagall class, a childish act which I would’ve expected of the Weasleys but really not from you. As a punishment he will be the one to clean the potions classroom bi-weekly from now on until he has regained the house points lost. You’ll supervise him.” “I’m sorry, I’m not quite sure I understand.” “Malfoy will do all the cleaning but since he has no experience with it I can’t just leave him alone so, since you’d be here anyway, you can watch him and make sure that everything goes orderly.“ It wasn‘t really a question as much as a command, something that you were used to from Snape, so you just nodded and bid him goodbye as he went to his office, leaving you and Draco behind. By now you had seen through what was happening. This was Ginny‘s plan. Somehow she must‘ve managed to blame Malfoy for the prank on McGonagall - something rather extreme given the taken house points- hoping (or somehow knowing) that his punishment would force you to spend at least an hour with him alone in a dimmed room twice a week. Inwardly you cursed your friend, while outwardly you tried everything to avoid directly looking at Draco as you explained his tasks to him before you sat down at your usual place and pulled out a book really hoping you could get him to not talk to you that way. Either your plan was working great or Draco just really didn‘t care for you, because an hour later you still hadn‘t exchanged any words, instead he dutifully, but slightly pouting, had done his job while you shot him the occasional glance to make sure he was doing it correctly. “I think that was all, you should be good to go now,“ you told him with a small smile, relieved that you were finally free to leave the room and with that the tension that had built up inside you as a mix of nervousness and fear. Draco had opened his mouth to respond when a third year came rushing inside with at least twelve books in her arms that almost towered over her which she quickly placed on a table, slightly out of breath. “Professor Snape sent me. He said these have to be sorted and put away.” You could probably feel Draco’s sigh before he had made it and - not really fond of spending more time so frustratingly close to your crush and yet so far - you just nodded and told both of them that you’d take care of it and that they could leave, which both promptly did. You took the books and carried them to the back of the room where a sole, old bookshelf was standing - since the students mostly had their own books - and started putting them away when you heard a sickening crunch before suddenly the shelf including books came crashing down at you and before you could even think to pull out your wand, the world turned black.

“I’m so so so sorry, you were right I shouldn’t have interfered, if I’d just listened to you you wouldn‘t be lying here now,“ Ginny whined from beside your bed where she had been sitting for the past twenty minutes apologizing over and over again and blaming herself for the broken arm, leg and the concussion that had you unable to leave the infirmary for the next three days to a week. “Ginny, how often do I gotta tell you, it isn’t your fault! I would’ve sorted those books in anyways - no matter if you had pulled that prank or not - and it would’ve fallen anyways,” you tried to reassure her and gave her a soft smile. “But-“ “No but, okay? We can’t change the past anyways, and even if we could I wouldn’t because thanks to you, I don’t have to take that stupid DADA test.” Your attempt to lighten the mood seemed to work, because soon you and Ginny were back to your usual conversation-style and it relieved you immensely. It made you feel okay again. She was just telling you of a stung Harry had pulled in the Gryffindor Common room when she suddenly paused mid sentence and looked up. You followed her eyes to where they were placed firmly on a certain Platinum blond boy that looked simultaneously like he’d rather be everywhere else and like he was glad to be there, it was a sight to see. “I think I’ll leave for now, I’ll come back later with tons of sweets that Luna and I are going to steal from Harry’s personal stash,” Ginny said goodbye and gave you a wink as she walked away making you torn between wanting to roll your eyes and feeling yourself blush. Unsure of what to do next you motioned to the chair that Ginny had just occupied and Draco seemed to get the hint because he quickly sat down. “Hey-“ “Hi-“ “Sorry, you first.” “No it’s fine, you’re injured, you go first.” “Well, uhm-“ you took a deep breath to calm yourself down, “-I wanted to thank you, for bringing me here I mean, Madame Pomfrey told me you carried me all the way.” You looked away hoping that he wouldn’t see how nervous you were. “You don’t need to thank me, I couldn’t just let you lay there buried under books, your not Granger after all,” he said, seemingly trying to joke but immediately noticed that it was probably not the best thing to say given that you and Hermione were good friends. “Listen, what I came here for,” now it was Draco’s turn to take a deep breath, “I’ve been meaning to tell you something, but you were always with Potter or avoiding me or whatever, but after I saw you lying there… I guess I was just worried for you, I really don’t want you to get hurt.” Now that definitely caught your attention. For a second you played with the thought that this could possibly not be Malfoy but just someone else playing him with the help of polyjuice potion because he was definitely not acting like himself, but something in his word convinced you otherwise. “Thanks, I think, but would you mind me asking why? I mean...we’re not really the closest of friends,” you asked him, looking directly into his face to search signs of a possible answer. “Fuck it, I like you, okay? Happy?” You were completely stunned. Stunned, speechless, shocked. In all the time that you had been crushing on him you had never even really considered even the slightest possibility that he could reciprocate your feelings but now here he was telling you straight up. “You-You like me? Like like-like me?” You asked, just really wanting to be sure. There was a hint of nervousness and worry in his eyes, but he hid it behind a wall of annoyance. “You heard me, didn’t you? So, just get it over with, do you like me too or do you not, because if you don’t then I don’t want to waste my time any longer.” This definitely sounded more like the Draco you were used to and you had to giggle a little bit. “Yes, yes I like you too,” you confessed and like it was the most natural thing in the world you moved the uninjured hand over to where he laid on your bed and took it in yours. For the moment, you were caught in the shimmer of happiness and glee at having your crush there with you, definitely something more than your crush, and it would probably take a while until you‘d realize that there were some interesting things to follow, like telling your uncle about this for example...

[kerie-prince]

change of pace

Fred Weasley x Slytherin!reader

requested: (@pinkdevile) hey bae, can i request a one shot or headcanon about fred being whipped by one of ron classmates that is a non-pureblood slytherin and kind of prodigy in magic and how would he react to her being a typical dry slytherin and being a prodigy and good at everything?

summary: What happens when a red lion who lives in the moment falls for a green snake with plans for her future? Romance, of course.

a/n: stereotypical, yes but i had fun writing this :) also, i know my posting schedule keeps changing, so sorry about that 🥺 i got lots of requests (thank you guys SO much!) and i'm trying to not make them all sound the same. i'm looking up synonyms and all that stuff lol

(gif cred)

You were the least Slytherin person in your house. But maybe that's made you even more of a Slytherin. Your traits were that of a typical member of the house of snakes. No, you weren't a rude bitch; you had ambition that rivaled that of a Gryffindor and it wasn't even one of their traits. You aimed for the stars and your pride proved that you could do that and more. You are the best witch of your class, and maybe even your school.

And it was this reputation that caught the attention of someone who is quite the polar opposite. You were calm and collected. He was a wild card and unpredictable. Fred Weasley had his eyes on you and was going crazy for you. It all started when one day, he was with his friends and brothers in the Great Hall during lunch when you had walked up to Ron and Harry, “Hey Ron, were my notes able to help you?”

“Yeah, loads. Thank you, Y/N.” Lee was in the middle of a conversation with his best friends when he noticed Fred wasn't responding to anything he was saying. “Mate, you okay?” When you walked to your table, Fred scooted closer to his younger brother, “Dearest brother, how are you?”

“What do you want?” Ron saw right through him. He knew when Fred wanted something from him, just like now.

“Well I’m offended that you would assume something,” Fred held a hand over his chest with a fake offended look on his face, “can’t a person ask about the well being of his baby brother?” Ron had a deadpan expression and Harry was laughing at Fred’s exaggeration. “Fair enough. Who was that?”

“Who? Y/N? She’s in mine and Harry’s class, why?” Ron had taken a large bite from his turkey leg.

“What’s she like?” Fred inquired. Ron thought about it for a minute, “Dunno, she’s pretty quiet.”

“If I didn't know any better, I’d say that Freddie here fancies someone,” George teased. The surrounding friends laugh and point towards Fred. “I don’t fancy anyone. I’m just asking a simple question.”

Hermione and Ginny later joined the group. “What’s all this fuss about?” Hermione questioned.

“Fred’s asking about Y/L/N,” Harry caught Hermione up to speed. “Why? You’re not thinking of doing anything to her, are you?” Hermione started to scold the older boy.

“Why is it that you lot always think I’m up to no good,” Fred sighed.

“Because you’ve never been up to any good,” Ginny teased her older brother. Fred rolled his eyes and turned back to try and find you at your table. You had a couple of friends with you and a small book in your hand as you ate. Fred was determined to get your attention somehow.

✿✿✿✿✿✿

You sat in the library by yourself. You had spent the majority of the afternoon grading first years’ papers for Snape’s class and working with Hermione and Katie on a project for Ancient Runes. Giving up your weekends to study wasn't all that bad. The feeling of being on top was rewarding.

It was funny; your parents had stopped caring about your grades all together because they already knew what they were going to read. Not that they weren't supportive or proud of you. At family gatherings on your father’s side, he loved seeing the looks on his relatives’ faces when he boasted that you were the best student at Hogwarts.

But they have told you on many occasions that it wouldn't kill you to have at least one E. They wanted you to be able to have a normal teen life and have fun. Go to parties, get in trouble every now and then. You assured them that you were fine and all and even believed it yourself. You never had interest in breaking the pattern you had set.

The library was nearing its closing time and you packed your things. When you walked out the grand doors, a tall figure came in front of you and nearly knocked down all the books you carried. His hands caught whatever you couldn't hold before it hit the floor.

“Sorry about that,” you looked up at the towering boy. Your breath slightly hitched at the sight of his attractive face. His cheekbones were defined and his skin looked soft. You didn’t realize that you were staring, nor that he was also staring at you as well. Finally, he spoke up and handed you the book he was holding for you. “I believe this is for you.”

His mouth moved, but you were so distracted that it didn't occur to you he had actually said anything until you saw him looking at you expectedly. “Oh, thank you.” You started heading towards the dungeons when he jogged towards and stopped in front of you. “Aren’t you in the same class as Ron?”

“Yes, how did you know that?”

“I saw you talk to him the other day,” he told you. “I’m Fred.” He reached to shake your hands but then pulled it back when he remembered that your hands were full at the moment.

Ah, so this is Fred you thought. You've heard of him, who hasn't? Years of being at Hogwarts, tales of him and his equally devilish brother creating havoc around campus have traveled from one student to another. How you two had never seen one another until this point was surprising. It’s not like Hogwarts was a large school, but it wasn't small either.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.” You nodded your head towards him to replace a handshake. Ten seconds of silence caused you to walk past him and return to the path to the dungeons. “W-wait!” Fred called out.

He stood in front of you once again, one of his hands positioned in front of you to block you from walking past him again. “Would you like to get a butterbeer tomorrow?”

If there was anything you didn't like, it was being put on the spot. And another thing? Your routine being disturbed. Your Sunday was all planned out. Helping Sprout with her greenhouse to earn extra house points, tutoring some younger years, and getting a head start on your homework that wasn't even due for another week.

“I’m sorry, but no.” You gave him an apologetic smile as you walked away. Once again, he ran in front of you but this time merged with you and actually caused all of your books to fall.

“Merlin, I’m so sorry,” he bent down to help you pick them up. Fred usually isn't this clumsy or nervous. He usually charms his way through anything, but he was becoming like putty out of nowhere. “Okay, well what about Honeydukes next Saturday?”

“Sorry, but no again.” You started walking away for the nth time and turned around to look at him for the last time, “Please don’t follow me again.” And you were gone. But did this mean that Fred gave up on any chance he had? No. Far from it. If anything, it gave him reason to want to try harder.

He walked all the way to the Gryffindor house and luckily found Hermione studying in the common room with Pavarti and Lavender. There was a spot open next to her and when Ginny was about to take the spot, Fred grabbed her arm and pulled her away to steal the seat.

“Um, excuse you, I was going to sit–”

“Tell me everything you can about Y/N,” Fred interrupted his sister.

✿✿✿✿✿✿

He had tried to learn as much as he could about you. Fred learned that you had the top grades. Much like Harry did, you had learned the Patronus Charm before not only before your own class, but even Fred’s charms class. Your dad's a wizard, and your mum's a muggle. But most importantly, you were a picture perfect student, and although you didn't have any apparent hobbies, you picked up just about everything with ease.

A couple of weeks had passed and every other day, Fred had made any type of excuse to come see you.

‘Oh, my next class is in this direction’ It wasn't.

‘I like that book, too!’ You were, in fact, not holding a book but your personal journal.

‘Funny running into you here!’ It was in the Great Hall during breakfast.

Now, you didn't hate these interactions. They didn't do anything to your routine, and they were actually cute attempts to get your attention. But you didn't think you had any time for anything else. Or anyone else.

“You should give him a chance, Y/N/N. Live a little. I think the top student can take a bit of time for herself at least once,” your friend Millicent advised. Astoria agreed with her, “He’s cute~.” You slightly blushed in your book and pushed their arms away.

“I’ve never been on a date before,” you whispered. The two girls looked at each other confused before turning back to look at you. “Huh?”

“I’ve never been on a date before!” You flinched when you realized your voice was louder than intended. Your friends laughed when you looked towards the Gryffindor table to make sure Fred didn't hear you. He was talking to his friends, so that meant he didn't. Only he did, but felt your eyes on him so he pretended he didn't.

“So this is the perfect reason to go out with him! Go ask him out,” Millie pushed. She was persistently tapping on your arm until you eventually stood up. You took a deep breath to gather confidence and walked towards the table of red and gold.

When Fred's eyes met yours, you turned around and walked out of the Hall. He stood up from his seat and chased after you. He kept bumping into people, including Filch in the hallways. Filch yelled for him to stop, but of course Fred ignored him and kept going.

Momentarily, he lost you in the crowd of mixed color robes until he saw you sitting by yourself on a bench under a tree. He walked towards your direction and asked you with his eyes if he could take the seat next to you. You scooted down more to let the tall boy sit down.

Neither of you said anything for a few moments. You fiddled with your fingers on your lap and he stared up at the sky. “Nice day, innit?” Fred started the conversation. “Yes, it is.”

“Good weather to go walking around Hogsmeade” Fred tried one last attempt in asking you out.

“It would be,” you accepted.

He let out a sigh in defeat, “I know I ask a lot, but maybe just this once– wait, what did you say?” You looked up at him and smiled for the first time. His heart skipped a beat and the butterflies fluttered about inside.

“I’ll go with you.” He was so excited that he jumped up and did an air punch of victory. You laughed to yourself and when he looked at you, you had an eyebrow raised. He blushed in embarrassment and scratched the back of his neck. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Promptly at 2 in the afternoon in front of the Slytherin dorms. Don’t be late,” you stood up with confidence. You walked back to the Hall to tell your friends, cheeks warmed and ears blushing. “So?” Astoria asked.

“It’s just a date, that's it,” you sounded nonchalant about it, but the smile on your face said differently. You were excited for your day with Fred and for all, unpredictable adventures to come.

A much needed change of pace.

—

requests open!

[theroyalmisfitmess]

okay hi. q: what would you like to see as the catalyst for creddie? I love the idea that carly starts pining first too. have a nice day!

OOO GOOD QUESTION. i have so many ideas about for this. some set in a more specific situation than others, unfortunately. but to sum it up, i want a good, gradual build-up:

- i think right now, feelings aren’t involved. freddie was genuinely concerned over carly as a friend and carly was looking for a way out of being argued upon. however, camera angles matter. so while they don’t indicate feelings right now, they could be counted as a tease

- catalyst 1: carly will see who she really prefers by putting beau and wes in the same place at the same time and checking how they respond to the situation (i see it as something for icarly). harper calls out carly again and asks Carly what she truly wants, gives carly tips, and whatnot. of course the plan carly does backfires and sets wes and beau off, angrily. freddie then helps carly out and carly has this odd realization that freddie’s response of the situation was her ideal response from either beau or wes

- catalyst 2: carly ultimately chooses between wes and beau, but increasingly starts to spend more time thinking about freddie. wes/beau notices and gets jealous

- catalyst 3: i think this is something i truly want to see. at this point, freddie does not have feelings for carly. if he were to gain feelings for her again, i think it would be through millicent. let me further explain... gwen is out of town and mrs. benson can’t be there for millicent because of an emergency. carly steps into the role as marernal figure in a school event. millicent gets injured and freddie catches carly caring for millicent. he feels something and knows it’s familiar

- catalyst 4: perhaps freddie meets a nice woman who is almost perfect. no nonesense of trying to break people up, we’re way past that. but suddenly, oops! a double date situation where wes/beau, due to not holding it in anymore, mentions the elephant in the room: carly likes freddie. awkwardness ensues. wes/beau break up with carly and then freddie’s date decides they can’t get together. carly and freddie have a heart-to-heart. no kiss. no makeout. no sleeping together. just a mature conversation between adults. did i base this off b99's road trip ep? yes. yes i did

- catalyst 5: THE BIG ONE. something gets pulled from the past. honestly, i don’t fully know what i want yet for THE BIG ONE, but i just know that it has to be painfully disruptive to the present. i'm against what others are saying about carly and freddie getting together or hooking up once carly got back from italy; it would be a total disservice to their platonic friendship if that happened. i'm pretty sure they talked about the kiss even before carly left for italy (when he helped her get her bags). i am also aware that their romantic history may have been counted as "complicated", but let's not read into this too much right now. what i can see as THE BIG ONE from the past is some sort of letter, gift, or secret that wasn't given or found out. again, i don't fully know what this is yet in my head, but it's so big it can wreck a purely platonic relationship. it could be a pact, but it feels way too simple to wreck

- carly and freddie have an argument starts off petty with teenage points brought up, but escalates to diplomatic and debate-like. carly argues that freddie deserves better than what life is offering at him. freddie then tells carly the same and how someone still "whole" like herself doesn't deserve "damaged goods with extra baggage". then there could be this entire part where freddie calls their entire argument ridiculous and rambles (more so about how his life is screwed up). he could maybe question about being last choice at everything and then i imagine something along the lines of:

"You were never last choice, Freddie."

"But I was never first, right?"

"Almost twenty years ago, maybe..."

"But now?... I thought so..."

"I love you, Freddie. I just wanted you to know that."

"I know... I love you too."

and they don't kiss or anything. it's just that. i'd rather their first kiss be in a season finale instead (like jake and amy's in b99 or have it end like the office's "the job").

anyway, i have some other ideas but explaining them would be too time-consuming and lengthy. this is the main framework i want to happen though. it doesn't have to be exact, but i'm just not a fan of those planning-to-break-love-interest-and-other-person-up arcs as well as sudden kisses and hook-ups. i love conversations between characters as they feel more raw and vulnerable

[plant-flwrs]

peachy // draco x reader

(1.2k words)

a/n: this idea kinda came from two different vids i saw on tik tok (@/biddieviv & @/endlessgarbage) and i really wanted to write them out or else they would just live in my head forever :) but thanks to those accounts for their amazing videos and i hope u guys like what i did w them! like and reblog <3

summary: Draco has always liked you, he just didn’t realize how much until you turned up to class with a hickey he didn’t give you.

CW: mentions of a knife (in the setting of eating)

------

You had a rough start that morning. Your hair was knotted, you were missing a sock, and your eyes felt so swollen you didn’t think you’d ever open them again. Recalling last nights events, you regretted agreeing to Pansy’s idea of playing a muggle drinking game she had heard of on a Sunday night, especially now that you had to get up for early lessons. 

Groggily, you stumbled into the bathroom, careful not to wake up your friends in their four posters. Looking in the mirror, you were shocked to see a large purple bruise just under your ear. You grazed it with your fingertips and giggled to yourself at the idea of a tipsy Pansy daring a drunk Daphne to give you a hickey.

“Come on! Think of Draco’s face if he saw that!” Pansy pushed Daphne towards you, smiling like a maniac.

“Why would Draco care? We’re just friends,” you said, fiddling with the bottle you had been using to decide who was going to do the dare.

Pansy threw herself onto your lap, her eyes looking up at you, “Yeah, yeah, because he flirts like that with everyone.”

“He does not flirt with me!”

“Well,” Daphne said, moving over to you, “even if he doesn’t, won’t a hickey make for good conversation?”

You had managed to get to breakfast in time, just giving yourself ten minutes to grab a plate and stuff a peach in your pocket for later. Too soon was Pansy dragging you to Potions.

You and some of your housemates stood in the hallway in front of Snape’s class, waiting for him to open the door. You heard Draco laughing at something Blaise had said and turned your head to look. He caught your eyes and smirked handsomely at you. You returned a smile.

He began to saunter over to you, but Snape had just opened to door. Your mind was clouded from last night, and you couldn’t think straight anyways when it came to Draco.

You took your usual seat in the back with the rest of the Slytherins. Expecting Goyle’s usual presence to your left, you were surprised to see Draco shoving Goyle over and taking his seat. He gave you that smirk again and you looked away, feeling an awful headache behind your eyes. 

You spent most of Potions with your head down, trying to block out the little light Snape allowed in the class. Pansy noticed and elbowed you in the arm, you lifted your head up enough to peak at her and heard an earnest laugh from your right.

“Rough night?” Draco asked. He was cutting up some lavender into fine pieces. 

Keeping your eyes on his hands, you nodded your head yes.

“What’d you get her into Pansy? Corrupting our little y/n?” He drawled, and you melted a little when he said your name.

Pansy laughed and continued chopping the ingredients, happy to do the work for you.

You absentmindedly pushed your hair behind your ear, leaning back in your hard, uncomfortable stool.

“Is that a hickey?” Draco asked you in a hushed tone, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

You quickly untucked your hair and laid it over the bruise, but it was no use, Draco had seen it. His long slender fingers grazed your neck as they pushed your hair back. 

He bit his lip as he looked at your neck, a feeling of jealousy and lust mixing through him. 

Dropping your hair and his hand, he returned to his Potions work.

“Who gave you that?” he snarled.

The second Pansy heard his tone she elbowed you again and looked at you as if to say ‘I was right! I was right and you were wrong! Ha!’

You, however, felt a sting when Draco’s tone had changed like that. You had heard him talk like that to other people, Crabbe and Goyle, but he had never spoken to you like that. It shocked you a little.

“A girl never kisses and tells, Draco,” Pansy taunted from beside you.

You saw Draco clench the knife a little harder, and his lavender was being mauled by his angered chopping.

You had left Potions feeling quite confused. You hadn’t actually thought Draco would have cared, let alone notice. You knew you shouldn’t be mad at yourself, or Pansy, because Draco didn’t have any right to be angry with you. He had never asked you out, or made a move, but he wants to give you attitude for having fun? You had never thought Pansy was being serious about Draco, but after that class you found yourself thinking more about Draco.

You had a free period just before lunch that day. Pansy, Daphne, Millicent, and Tracey all had class, so you went to the lake to get a bit of peace.

Sitting against a trunk, you fished the peach from your pocket. Just before you began to cut it, you heard leaves crunching behind you. Turning to look, you saw Draco walking towards you.

“Y/n,” Draco breathed out, as if he was out of breath.

“Hey, Draco,” you replied, going back to your peach.

He watched as you cut it in half with a pocket knife, the blade sliding easily through the fruit. You were cutting it into wedges, one rested on the knife. You looked up at him from where you were sitting and held out the fruit to him.

“Want some?” you asked.

“Sure,” he took it off the knife and ate it, watching you as you cut yourself a wedge and ate it from the blade.

“Are you alright?” you asked, but he didn’t respond, his eyes were locked on the ground, “Draco?”

He looked up at you slowly, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Who gave you that hickey?” his voice was quiet and hushed, as if he were afraid someone would hear him.

“Draco,” you began, but he cut you off.

“Are you dating somebody?” the hurt in his voice made you less annoyed by his question.

Was he serious? Why would Draco care so much is Pansy wasn’t right? You wondered if you should be completely honest with him, tell him you wouldn’t want to date anyone if it wasn’t him.

“No, I’m not.”

“Then who gave you that?” he took a step closer to you and pointed at your neck.

“I-”

“Y/n,” His eyes bore into yours with such intensity that you couldn’t think. 

He took another step closer and sat down next to you, resting his head against the tree. His leg was touching yours.

“Why do you care so much, Draco?” You finally said, needing him to say it aloud.

He didn’t move, his head was still pressed against the tree and his eyes were looking up at the sky. His hair fell back off his forehead at this angle, and his neck was exposed to you.

Finally, he dropped his head. Turning to you, he wouldn’t meet your eyes. You bit the inside of your cheek.

Turning away from him, you had given up. Just as you did, his hand reached up and cradled your jaw, pulling you towards him. Your lips were inches apart, and his hand spread from your jaw to your neck. His fingers grazed the hickey on your neck and you shivered. He looked intently at your lips and licked his own.

You decided to lean in. You molded together perfectly, both of you tasting like peaches. Your eyes fluttered shut and you pressed your body against his, yearning for more. His other hand captured your face, and he pulled you closer. You had leaned so close that you toppled over, landing on Draco. You placed your palms on his chest to brace the fall and he laughed, his cheeks hinting with pink. You were sure your nose was crimson from the cold breeze.

“You taste like peaches,” Draco mumbled, pulling you back into him.