#“and in this issue cissie almost KILLS A MAN” how about in this issue cissie gets a season pass to the ymca

[lemonlimestar]

young justice was really having a major arc every other issue 😭 their asses should’ve been in the after school program!!!

[confusedhummingbird]

Cissie King-Jones and Mia Dearden Part 2

So since I've gone over the similarities between these two lovely ladies I'm now going to go into their differences.

Differences

Before I go into the difference again here's a small summary of Cissie and Mia and their histories.

Okay on we go!

The biggest difference between them is their feelings towards being a hero. Cissie started training at 5 by her Mom without even asking her if it was what she wanted. Her mother forced her to become a hero after living through her by being a top hero since she could no longer be a "hero" thanks to carpal tunnel.

After she's separated from her mother thanks to Child Protective Services she becomes Arrowette again not because she wanted to be a hero but because she wanted to prove to her mother that she was a better hero without her than with her.

After almost killing a man who murdered her school councilor. Cissie immediately quits being Arrowette because she no longer trusts herself and she's afraid of being an "inspiration" to younger kids. After she quit Cissie even admits she herself doesn't even know if she wanted to ever be a hero.

And while she does still help out Young Justice in major emergences, she makes it clear she has no interest in ever fully coming back into the hero game not matter how much the rest of the team, especially Cassie, try to bring her back.

Mia on the other hand goes in the complete opposite direction. She wants to be a hero so bad despite Ollie telling her over and over again that's never going to happen and she should focus on just being a regular kid and enjoy a normal life.

Eventually after her HIV diagnosis Mia makes it clear that with or with Ollie she was going to be a hero and she was going to be a hero. Ollie capitulates and agrees to make her the new Speedy.

The other major difference between these two is the relationship with their biological parents. Cissie's Mother,Bonnie King, and Mia's biological father.

(Warning pictures and discussions of child abuse and sexual assault.)

Cissie while having obviously a very bad relationship with her mother at the start of Young Justice her relationship with her mother starts to improve after Bonnie realizes what she did to Cissie and that Cissie truly never wanted to be a hero like she did. And by the end of Young Justice the two of them have a better relationship.

Mia on the other hand can never have that reconciliation with her father. Her father isn't known much (And no I'm not counting the new 52 version of him) but what we do know about him is he raped Mia starting at age 9 and even got his friends to rape her as well. He was a despicable man who Mia never wanted anything to do with after she ran away from him as a child.

These two girls are two of my favorite DC characters both of them are such fascinating characters. I hope the two of them are able to have something of a relationship in future with both of them coming back to DC in the next upcoming Green Arrow issue. They're amazing and I'd love to see the two of them together.

[corinnesamuels]

Teddy Wants a Treehouse

(Or, the one where Harry has a minor bout of jealousy.)

When Andromeda Tonks asked Harry and Ginny Potter to watch 4-year-old Teddy for a week, the Potters accepted without hesitation. Andromeda had been playing a tug-of-war-like game with her last living sister, working to discover if Narcissa Malfoy still had traces of the person she had once known. It was decided—after a year of awkward silences, long-forgotten happy memories, and melancholy rememberings of what had been—that the two sisters would take a holiday. Maybe after being away from everything, they could find out one way or another.

At least, she hoped.

While she knew that her surrogate family would not become close friends of the Malfoys if she and Cissy were able to rebuild their relationship, they had respected her desire to try to work things out. It was decided that Ginny would watch Teddy during the days she wasn't in training, and on the days she had to travel to Holyhead, Harry would take Teddy to the childcare wing of the Ministry. Teddy had been before on just a handful of occasions but seemed to love it each time. 

Andromeda told Teddy of the arrangement a few days before she was due to leave for Italy, and he was ecstatic.

"I's gets to stay with Harry' n Ginny for a whole week?" He had asked excitedly in the middle of breakfast. Porridge smeared across his mouth, small clumps taking residence in between strands of shockingly turquoise hair.

He was as messy an eater as his mother had been clumsy. It brought a sad smile to Andromeda's face to think about it.

When Harry and Ginny came to pick Teddy up for the week, Andromeda couldn't tell whether godfather or godson was more excited.

Ginny had no trouble stating that it was Harry.

And as Harry looked up from blowing a raspberry on Teddy's stomach, the little boy still squealing with laughter, the look on the man's face proved that his wife was most definitely correct.

But neither Andromeda, Ginny, nor Harry expected Teddy to come down with dragon pox just two days into the week. Andromeda offered to come back early, but Harry promptly refused. He almost never took days off from work and had plenty of leave accrued to stay home with Teddy. Andromeda looked skeptical during their conversation over the Floo, but Harry assured her that if he could defeat dark wizards and live through three different killing curses, he could take care of his sick godson.

He'd call over to the Burrow and have Molly help, at the very least.

"Really, Andy, we'll be fine. Enjoy your time in Italy. Everything will be fine when you get back." Harry said. His knees were beginning to ache from having to crouch down by the fireplace. Reluctantly, and with many quickly given tips for treating dragon pox and reminders about what Teddy liked and disliked, Andromeda ended the connection. Harry stood up, rubbing his knees.

"Well, Ted, it isn't the week we had planned, but let's make the most of it, shall we?"

Teddy looked up from his place on the hearth rug and began to try scratching his irritated skin, foiled by the scratch-proof gloves he had been forced to wear.

"Itchy." Teddy said grumpily.

Harry managed to get an appointment at St. Mungo's that afternoon. Harry was happy to discover that while Teddy would be a little lethargic for the next couple of days, he would be back to his usual self and ready for all the things Harry had wanted to do before the week was up. The Healer gave Teddy a salve for the irritated skin, a potion to knock the dragon pox out altogether, and a lolly for his troubles. She also had the decency not to laugh when Harry took one as well.

Not an hour after Harry and Teddy returned to the house on the outskirts of Godric's Hollow, Molly Weasley arrived with an arsenal of sickness-beating supplies—enough soup to last a week, a salve she decided was much more effective than whatever rubbish they were passing out at St. Mungo's, and a fresh set of gloves for little hands that still tried to scratch at the pockmarks.

"Mrs. Weasley, I'm green! And itchy!" Teddy said as Molly bustled into the kitchen.        

"Well indeed, you are!" Molly replied as she poured bowls of soup for him and Harry. "But not to worry dear, we'll have you right as rain in no time. Eat up! You'll need your energy. You too, Harry, dear. You're looking quite thin. A good wind might blow you away."

Harry knew better than to waste his time protesting Molly taking care of the two of them, and after one sniff of the soup, he joined in with Teddy, eating hungrily.

"Thanks for bringing us soup, Molly. I really appreciate it. I was thinking that I'd have to order takeaway this evening."

Molly looked scandalized at the thought of a sick toddler eating takeaway. "Nonsense! I'll be sure to bring some more soup over tomorrow. It will make this little one start feeling a little more like himself." She gave Teddy a pat on the head and set the dishes to washing themselves with her wand.

Molly sat with Harry and Teddy at the dinner table for a while, going into exaggerated raptures as Teddy demonstrated his abilities to write his letters and numbers.

"How smart you are, Teddy! You'll be at Hogwarts before we know it."

Teddy looked at once proud and mildly embarrassed at the statement and looked to Harry for further approval. Harry smiled and ruffled Teddy's hair. After the dishes had been washed and dried, and the kitchen looked a bit cleaner than it had when Molly had arrived (though quickly she denied any additional spellwork and proceeded to change the subject), Molly stood to leave.

"Well, I must be off." She said as she double-checked her basket to make sure she had everything. "Arthur will be home soon, and I'll need to get dinner ready. Feel better, dear." Molly kissed Teddy on the top of his head and turned to hug Harry goodbye.

"I'll be around tomorrow to check on the both of you." She said as she grabbed a handful of Floo Powder.

"Thanks again for the soup, Molly. Teddy, what do you say?"

Teddy's little green face looked from Harry to Molly and then to the fireplace. "I want to go wif you to the Burrow! Can I?"

Neither Harry nor Molly had expected that response. A little surprised, Molly looked to Harry and saw him attempt to hide the slightly crestfallen look that passed over his face. Trying to avoid letting Harry know that she had seen it, she bent down to get a little closer to Teddy's eye level.

"You want to go to the Burrow with me?" Teddy nodded eagerly. "Well, Teddy, you know you're always welcome, but Victoire won't be there." She said, thinking that Teddy must have been missing his playmate. At this, Harry squatted down and placed a hand on Teddy's back.

"Is that why you want to go to the Burrow, Ted? You want to play with Vic?"

"I want to go see the treehouse. Harry doesn't have one." Teddy said matter of factly. Harry and Molly looked outside the sitting room window. There were several trees on the property, but as Teddy had mentioned, none of them held a treehouse.

"I don't, do I?" Harry rubbed Teddy's back, mulling things over in his head. "Molly, do you mind if Teddy and I come over and camp out in the treehouse today?"

Teddy gasped with excitement and threw his little arms around Harry's neck before looking back at Molly. "Please, Mrs. Weasley!"

Molly laughed. "Of course, you can. Arthur would love to see you both. How does treacle tart sound for pudding?"

"Excellent." Harry and Teddy replied. Molly chuckled to herself and straightened back up.

After Molly disappeared into the fireplace, Harry stood up and looked around. "Well, Ted, we'd better pack some things up for us to take to the Burrow. Go grab a few things, and I'll send a note to Ginny."

A few hours later, Harry and Teddy were sitting in the treehouse on a pallet of sleeping bags and pillows, reading the latest issue of Martin Migs the Mad Muggle. Teddy loved the silly stories and was sent into a giggling fit every couple of pages. He was right in the middle of one when they heard footsteps on the treehouse ladder.

"Looks like you two are having plenty of laughs without me. Did you save me any fun?"

"Ginny!" Teddy squealed as the redhead crawled over to them in the treehouse.

"Wotcher, Ted." She grinned before placing a kiss on his turquoise fringe. "Hello, love." She said as Harry leaned over to get a kiss of his own.

"How was training?" Harry asked, ignoring Teddy's groans of "yuck!" when the kiss lasted longer than Teddy preferred.

"It was good. Gwenog mostly had us go over some new approaches to next week's match. The Tornados' new beater is starting, and he's got a wicked aim."

"Can I go to the Quidditch match? I want to see the snitch!" Teddy asked as he crawled onto Ginny's lap. Harry beamed at Teddy's mention of the snitch and sent a smug look over to Ginny.

"We'll have to check with your Gran, Ted. But wouldn't you rather get more excited about the quaffle?" Ginny asked, glancing at Harry, whose mouth was now in a straight line.

"I like them both! But snitches are really fast and they get a bazillion points!"

"I suppose that to a four-year-old, 150 and a bazillion are quite close to the same thing." Harry said. "Nice try with the quaffle bit, though."

Ginny stuck out her tongue at him and then turned back to Teddy. "Is that your new issue of Martin Migs, Ted? Is it as funny as the last?"

After the rest of Martin Migs, a few dragon coloring pages, and one and a half rounds of Babbity Rabbity and the Cackling Stump, Teddy Lupin began to doze off. Ginny rubbed his back as Harry laid him down on the sleeping bag. "Poor kid. I remember when Ron and I had dragon pox. At least we had each other to play with."

"Yeah," Harry said as Ginny moved to sit on his lap. "When he mentioned that he wanted to come over, your mum thought that he wanted to play with Victoire."

"She also mentioned that you looked a little hurt when he said it."

Harry felt himself blushing subconsciously. "I had hoped that she didn't notice that . . ." He muttered under his breath. "I thought he was bored with me at first. Then he mentioned the treehouse, and I realized that it did seem a lot cooler than being cooped up in our sitting room all day."

"He adores you, Harry," Ginny said, pressing a kiss to his lips. "Believe it or not, even more than treehouses. And quaffles, apparently." She feigned a look of disbelief. 

Harry laughed. "Apparently."

Over the next few days, Teddy returned to his normal coloring and was ruled to be back in perfect health. Harry, still on cloud nine from spending the week with his godson, decided to stay home even on the days that Ginny didn't need to go to Holyhead and squeezed as many activities in as they could into their last two days together. They got ice cream at Florean Fortescue's, went to the joke shop to play with some of George's more toddler-friendly items, and went to the cinema in London. And then, almost too soon, Andromeda returned from Italy, and it was time for Teddy to go home.

The next weekend, Ginny awoke and instinctively backed closer to Harry, only to find that Harry wasn't there. She turned over and looked around where he should be lying and, confused, glanced around the room. She didn't hear any sounds of movement in the bath, and no sounds were coming from the kitchen. Getting out of bed, she pulled on her dressing gown and walked over to where they kept their calendar in the kitchen, but his work schedule showed that he didn't have to report to the Ministry today either.

Where had he gone off to?

She noticed a cereal bowl and a used coffee mug in the sink, the tea kettle on the stove, and smiled. She hadn't been able to pick up his coffee habit in the mornings and could only tolerate the stuff when she was in dire straits. But Harry had been there and grabbed a bite to eat before he went to wherever he had gone off to and had gotten the kettle ready so that she could have tea when she woke up.

Ginny pondered this as she poured a cuppa and heard a tapping noise. She walked over to the window and saw her husband standing on a ladder by one of the sturdier trees in their yard, hammering at a set of wooden planks. Wrapping her dressing gown more securely around her, she walked outside to the tree.

"I was wondering where you had gone off to."

Harry looked down at her and grinned. "I wanted to get an early start and didn't want to wake you."

"I noticed," she said, sipping her tea and smiling at him as he went back to working on the boards. This was one of the few moments outside of their time with their friends or family that he didn't look so burdened. "What is it that you are doing, exactly?"

"Teddy wants a treehouse." He replied simply. "Could you pass me that instructions page? The one by your foot?"

Ginny picked up the instructions page and handed it to Harry. She watched as he tapped it with his wand and caused it to hover in front of him. He squinted at it briefly and picked the hammer up again. There was a sudden intake of breath, and he stuck the pad of his thumb instinctually in his mouth before looking at it.

"Splinter." He said at her concerned look. Ginny examined his thumb as she pulled his wand off of the boards and tapped twice on the small sliver of wood lodged in his hand. The splinter shot out and into the air as the skin healed itself.

"I'm pretty sure you could have gotten one that was already made." Ginny said as she placed his wand back on the planks of wood that harry was assembling. "Or done it with magic."

He shook his head. "Some things are better done by hand."

"Your hands are quite capable, from my personal experience." She smirked before taking one last sip of her tea, noticing that Harry looked quite pleased with himself at the statement.

Read the rest on ao3.

[spitefulqueenofdemons]

https://spitefulqueenofdemons.tumblr.com/post/643713435650113536/sleep-deprived part 2

Pushing Up Daisies chapter 3

Tw: language, murder, guns, cops, mentions of drugs

Word count: 1373

Summary: After having woken up tied to a chunk of concrete under water and doing an unspeakable act (for your survival??) You find yourself out of options and people to help. Well almost, the only one you think might be able to help is the one who got you in this situation in the first place

After a long shower and several hours on the internet searching for anything that could tell you what was going on. Apart from a few hundred movies and books with undead content the most concrete actual zombie anything you could find was mostly about the voodoo dust that people used to put others under control. And back in the 18, and 1900s people accidentally being buried alive. 

There was virtually nothing about zombies in Seattle. All you knew for sure was what had happened to you. You confronted Blaine, he grabbed you, shot you, dumped you in a lake and you woke up you dont know how long after underwater with no need to breath. 

As you thought and absently read yet another article about 'Haitian Zombies' you rubbed your hand against your wrist that Blaine had grabbed you with. The scratch marks on your arm were as faint as old scars but you could feel them still.

And just like that realization hit. The red eyes made sense. Blaine was a zombie, and that lady who was working the front counter probably was too. It had to be some sort of virus or something that could be transferred through scratch. The teenager in you was thrilled that zombies were real and not mindless corpses that just wandered around destroying everything it came across. Sure when you first emerged from the lake you couldnt control yourself and killed that poor innocent man but you were literally starving. 

Perhaps that was the down side. The hunger is enough to blind you from any moral standing. Even more unfortunate, you didnt know how long what brains you did eat earlier would keep you satiated and you didnt have a way to get more without committing more murder. You didnt know anything about the zombieism other than the scratch causes it. 

You really only had an one option. Go back to Blaine. He had options. Once you got there he could kill you, or turn you away, or kill you. You had gone in only, according to your microwave, 8 hours ago guns blazing accusing him of being a utopium dealer. How could you expect him to help. 

Now you also knew you couldnt go to the police. As an officer you knew they would either freak out or hide it. And by hiding it you knew that would mean hiding you, IE killing you and sweeping it under the rug. They might turn you over to some higher part of the government. The type that does a bunch of invasive and usually very painful experiments and research. 

You could just drop it. Leave town and change your name. But then again that brings up the issue of how will you eat? Murder is just too horrible an option for you. Grave robbing coukd be viable but half decomposed chemically drowned brain is almost as bad as the moral stand still of murder. 

Deciding on your course of action you breezed to your closet, choosing a simple black hoodie, dark jeans and boots, and a ball cap to hide your snowy hair to wear. You grabbed a glock 19. Not the gun you had when you went to visit Blaine in the first place. That one was gone, probably in Debeers' personal stash now. This time though if he pulled so would you. 

Without a vehicle, you assumed it would no longer be parked where you left it in front of MEATchute, you were instead forced to catch a bus to the opposite side of town. The open sign was off but you could see people behind the counter. It looked like they were counting the drawer.

You beat on the glass with an open palm, hard enough for it to make a lot of noise but not hard enough to shatter the glass. The older woman from when you first came was the one to open the door. She looked like she had seen a ghost, but still somehow like she didnt care. 

"Cant you read the sign? We are closed. That means you dont have to go home but you sure as shit cant stay here." She half growled. 

You rolled your eyes, half willing to punch her in the face if she wanted to get cocky. "Move. Wheres Debeers?" You demanded, eyes flashing past the stumpy woman and to the counter where a large man with dark hair stood sizing you up. "You," you said. You recognized him as one of the names that gave a name that then gave you Debeers. "You work for him. I shouldnt be surprised." 

He cocked an eyebrow. "Cissie, let her through." The man said. He looked like a knock off version of Patrick Warburton. "You are supposed to be dead little lady. You got lungs of steal or are you one of us?" 

You scoffed, wanting to hit them all. You knew it wasnt a part of the zombieism either. These fuckers were all instrumental in your death. That enough was reason for a slight beating. "I got nothing to say to you Julian. I'm here for Blaine and I'm not leaving till I get to talk to him." You demanded, stomping up to the counter. 

The man sighed as if this was one of the last things he wanted to deal with. "Well he isnt here but I'll call him. See if he wants to talk to you. Follow me." He said, gesturing to you. 

Not exactly happy, but pleased you were getting what you want, you followed the man behind the counter. He took you further into the building and finally into a room off the kitchen that actually looked like a real office. The large mahogany desk was a mess with files and papers, on top of them all was the stolen file from your apartment. There was a few random art pieces. 

"Wait here. Someone will be by soon." He instructed, leaving you in the room alone. Trusting that you wouldnt snoop. Normally you would but this situation was not the time. You needed help, and had already pissed off two of the three people you knew had a hand in that. Snooping through Blaine's real office would be like flipping the bird after you already spit on and slapped someone. Definitely not a good idea on your part. 

It took less than 20 minutes before the door opened again and a familiar blond haired blue eyed gangster opened the door. "Ah Detective. What an unpleasant surprise. I didnt know you walked amongst the undead." He said with an air of genuine shock. "When Julian told me I really didnt believe him. You took those bullets like a mortal. What happened?" 

You laid out your wrist on the desk, the marks almost completely gone. He crossed to the other side and sat down, moving the little lamp that was sitting at the corner of the table. He shone the lamp over my arm and the little pink marks showed up. 

Blaine 'tsk'ed. "Was it me?" He had a fake look of disgust on his face. "It was me wasnt it. Damn it, I knew I shouldnt have blown off my manicure appointment this morning." He shook his head. "Thats why you arent dead. You gotta be starving though. Would you like a snack? Pudding? Crackers and cheese? Brains?" He questioned. 

You looked at the mark on your wrist in the light, your jaw clenched a little. "No thanks I already ate, but that is part of what I would like to discus." 

At that his eyes widened with actual shock. "Um, you already ate? Did you kill someone or dig up a body?" When I didnt answer he nodded knowingly. "You killed someone. Oh I bet that was a sight. Sorry about the cinderblock by the way. I didnt think you would be waking up. Im sure it wasnt the best alarm." 

You scoffed, a little thankful he stopped asking about your food source. "Waking up underwater was definitely a new experience, but then again so far my whole evening has been new experiences." You told him. 

"Well, allow me to formally welcome you to the land of Zombies. I'll explain everything."

[ccnqueror]

DAD TO THE BONE.

d. Monday, 27th April to Friday, 1st May.

l. Lucius’s apartment, above Button and Bows.

w. 1382 words.

“I’ve never seen a baby before.”

Lucius bounced about in line, craning his neck to see the mandrakes being handed out. He had always wanted a sibling -- many a birthday wish was dedicated to this sole need. Mrs Malfoy, unfortunately, did not think the weight gain was worth a child (”You mean a second child?” Lucius used to ask); this was one of the only desires the Malfoys did not indulge their son with.

Gawain did not seem to care very much. He barely acknowledged the blond, standing there with his arms crossed. Lucius ignored him. Single fatherhood sounded so martyr-like, and Lucius craved nothing more than the imagery of a saint -- he would wander about the school, draping himself over various surfaces like a woman in a painting (maybe he’d let his chest out, even) and complain about the woes of deadbeats.

Lucius beamed. 

“I’m going to be a daddy!”

MONDAY.

It was going well, thus far. Lucius, thankfully, lived above a clothing boutique; it was only too easy, dressing the child-thing. By noon, he had a whole drawer full of baby clothes in all sorts of colours and fashions. The mandrake proved to be far wrigglier than he had expected, though nothing a quick Petrificus Totalus could not fix. Was hexing one’s child against the rules?

Never mind that, though, for the mandrake was now lying in a crib, wearing a light pink romper with the words, ‘Daddy’s Princess’ on it. There had, of course, been a small crown to accompany it, but the mandrake did not appear to like head-wear very much. 

“It’s a mandrake, not a woman-drake,” said Abraxas, who had been forced to floo over with a box of his son’s old baby things. “Why are you dressing it in girl’s clothes?”

“Hypocrite,” Ava snorted. She was Lucius’s landlady, and an old friend of the family’s; she had made plenty of baby clothes, for both Lucius and her own two boys. It was strange, adding a mandrake to that exclusive list.

Abraxas sneered. “I’m not the one who wanted to put him in that.” He nodded towards a frilly dress from when his son was three. Lucius held it up, pouting. The mandrake would not fit.

“Do mandrakes even have a gender?” Whispered one of the landlady’s sons, a boy Lucius often babysat. He was staring at the mandrake as though it were an Azkaban escapee, or, more accurately, a weird dirt-dweller that had stolen his toys. “Like, does it have a wiener?” 

His little brother giggled. “You said wiener.”

Lucius smacked them both upside the head. “It’s a girl,” he declared. “Her name is Cissy.”

TUESDAY.

He felt like a zombie. Day one had been fun, yes, but night one was not. If only he lived in Malfoy Manor again, where the child could be placed on the other side of the house so that crying could not be heard. It was rather unlucky for Lucius(’s house-elf) that the apartment was not so spacious; alas, the wailing was as piercing as ever, though Hogwarts had promised no side-effects.

Lucius had discovered something new that morning, though. He had been so tired from the previous night, having slept through only 80% of it, that he had broken out his de-stressing kit. And so there he lay, at the centre of his bed, with an avocado face mask and cucumber slices.

Cissy, as it turned out, liked them very much. Abraxas, who had stayed in Hogsmaede the previous night, made a worrying comment about her liking plant-matter on her face. Lucius considered the thought briefly -- briefly. It was a very worrying comment indeed.

“You need to be nicer to her,” Lucius complained, lifting a cucumber slice to stare at his father. “You’re her grandfather, and I want you to be a good one. My grandfather always yelled at me.” 

Abraxas rolled his eyes, having already eaten the cucumbers. He reached out for Lucius’s, saying, “That’s because you were a git.” He recalled many a time when his father-in-law had to discipline little Lucius -- no stealing cookies, no pushing your cousins, no copying your father. That sort of thing.

“Well,” said Lucius, “Cissy is a very good girl, and she deserves a very good grandfather.”

“Change that stupid name, and she might get one.”

Lucius narrowed his eyes. “Get the hell out of my house.”

WEDNESDAY.

Sleeping had improved. Lucius had moved the crib from the living room to the kitchen, where his house-elf slept. The door was promptly silenced. Any night-time-happenings were left to the elf, who was looking thinner and thinner every day.

“What’s this dirt doing on her dress?”

The elf swallowed thickly, wringing its hands. “Dobby is sorry, sir, Dobby was only trying to help.”

Lucius kicked him. “Go bathe in boiling water, you filthy animal.” He cuddled Cissy closer to him, rubbing at the stain. “There, there,” he cooed, “Daddy will get you a new dress.”

He had just finished changing her when the doorbell rang. Lucius immediately called for the elf, only to hear loud yelping and the splashing of water. Well, no need to bother its nice bath; besides, it’d be nice to show off Cissy’s dress to someone other than Lucius’s childhood stuffed duck, Waddles.

“Ugh,” said Lucius, having opened the door. “It’s other daddy.”

Gawain stared down at his arms, Cissy’s eyes blinking up at him from under a baby’s bonnet. He looked lost for words, like he was too enchanted to speak.

“I came to see if you needed anything.” Gawain frowned. “You look like you’re getting along well.”

“Say bye-bye to other daddy, now.” Lucius slammed the door shut. “He has to go to Azkaban to visit his daddy.”

THURSDAY.

Parenting turned out to be one of the easiest things he had ever done. Cissy was not a difficult baby to deal with; the elf dealt with the difficult things, of course. It needed a bath almost daily, now, from smelling so terribly from all the diaper changes. Or was that its natural smell? Honestly, Lucius had never interacted with the thing so much before. 

The puking was another issue. Babies, apparently, vomited a lot. He had been upset for the first few days, when matching clothes were ruined. Now, though, Lucius spent most of his time just in his pants, talking to her without holding her. She seemed to like the sound of Lucius’s voice just as much as he did; and Lucius spoke to her increasingly often. Maybe it was the lilting cadence of his voice, but Cissy liked to listen to him wax poetic about her future stepmother.

“How does one describe the most beautiful creature to have ever existed? He would say. “Narcissa is a one-of-a-kind, the sort of person you have to see to believe. Her hair, it’s so shiny, golden like the colour of Zeus’s ichor -- and her eyes, bottomless, drowning eyes, blue like the sky... Her whole face is perfection, a masterpiece; she has this cute little nose, but it’s pointed up, arrogant, like she’s better than everyone else, and she is, because they could never be so beautiful. Her jawline, it’s perfect, it fits in my hand; I swear, her whole face was made to be cupped in her hand, her hands were made to be held by me. And one day, I will hold that hand, one day I’ll put a ring there and she’ll be Lady Malfoy, and I’ll be her Lord, and we’ll live in the manor, together, us and our children -- oh, Merlin, Dobby! Dobby! She’s done it again! Good Lord, how does something so small smell so badly? Dobby, for the love of God, take her away before my whole nose rots off --”

FRIDAY.

“They took her away.” Lucius sobbed. “They took my baby away.”

Abraxas stared at him. “It was a mandrake.”

“Don’t,” Ava hissed, glaring. “He’s very upset.”

“They’re just going to kill it and use it for a potion.”

Lucius wailed.

“There, there,” said Ava. “Professor Slughorn promised he’d put her into a lovely hair-care potion for you.”

He felt better after that.

[potterlyimagines]

Against All Else / part I (Draco)

- the first part of the Against All Else series

Requested- could you please do a draco oneshot where turns against the death eaters in his 7th year the moment they threaten his s/o? A/n- just want to thank you for starting this incredible journey of writing a series with me xx ily all ~word count: 1762 words

tag list: @tomthestuntmanfelton , @fluff-fluff, @ly--canthrope, @cleohalestilinski, @ninja-boss-barbie, @emelythompson​

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Being with the Draco Malfoy romantically is something you never thought you’d be doing one day since the two of you practically grew up together. Of course, with the issues of Voldemort going around these days, everyone is scared for their own lives as people go missing every single day. Yet for you, the thing you are most scared of is losing someone you love so much that it hurts. 

Draco is slowly changing, and that scares you. There are times that you find him unfocused even when it comes to the Quidditch that he once adored. It’s almost like he has something to hide from you. You forget to knock as you enter his dorm room while looking for him. 

So when you see the Dark Mark on his forearm, you drop all the books in your hands to the ground while taking in what you have just witnessed.

The white-blond haired boy looks up sharply at the noise you make and freezes. “Y/n. What are you—” He is in the middle of finishing buttoning his uniform shirt, then he realises what made you react this way as he looks back down to his arm. You run out, leaving the books behind before he can explain.

No, no, no, no—he couldn’t have. He wouldn’t want to hurt people, no, not the Draco Malfoy I know. Endless thoughts run through your mind as you try to figure everything out. You find yourself strutting through the hallways without an actual destination.

- at the Malfoy Mansion - 

“—Cissy, he can do it! The Dark Lord chose him, don’t you understand?” A high pitched voice hisses. It is as though the temperature surrounding has decreased several degrees in the dimly lit room.

“But he’s just a boy, Bella, he shouldn’t be involved. It’s too dangerous—asking him to… to kill Dumbledore?”

“You’re talking as if he’s a coward. Is you son a coward, hmm?”

Narcissa frowns, walking in circles inside her study. “Of course he isn’t, but it’s better being a coward than ending up dead, isn’t it?” Bellatrix gives out a sharp laugh and says sarcastically, “if you believe so.” 

The two’s conversation is interrupted when a series of footstep approaches. “Is he doing it?” Voldemort asks. A man with long blond hair trails behind him. “As I assured you, my lord, he will do it,” Lucius tells him, although there is a look in his eyes that suggests he doesn’t seem to think so. Voldemort notices it but does not say a word, “very well. Still, we should give him a little motivation for that…”

“Which is?” Bellatrix’s eyes light up.

He pauses, “why don’t we bring that girl here?”

No one speaks for Merlin-knows-how-long as Voldemort strokes his wand, thinking. Finally, Narcissa does as she tries her best to keep her voice calm. “Do you mean y/n y/l/n?”

He simply nods.

It has been a day since Draco accidentally revealed his Mark to you—or more like you unintentionally discovered his true identity. The two of you haven’t talked about it at all since you try your best to change the topic the first time he brought it up. He learns not to after a couple tries, and sometimes you appreciate him when he understands that you aren’t ready to talk about it. You lie in his embrace in the Slytherin common room as he leans down to kiss your forehead.

“I love you, y/n.” He blurts out.

You glance into his icy grey eyes. “I love you, too, Draco.” You smile genuinely and stand up, “I should go—it’s my shift for prefect duties.”

“Of course.” He replies, letting go of your hand. You exit the common room, giving him a last look. 

You wake up to a completely different surrounding than you are used to. You blink a few times before abruptly sitting up, reaching for your wand. Only that it isn’t there anymore. As you stand up as quick as you possibly can, you find yourself locked inside a cell. The humid, dark surrounding gives you chill to the spine. “What the hell?” You mumble while trying to recall what happened last night. You were on prefect duties, taking rounds across the Hogwarts campus. Then you lost conscious as you reached the ground floor. There is a burning, raging, growing feeling inside your chest as you struggle to breathe properly. You are taken.

“I see that you’re awake,” says Lucius.

You try to make sense of what is going on, “Mr Malfoy? What—” You realise what is happening when you see Bellatrix Lestrange and Peter Pettigrew in the shadows: you are taken by the Death Eaters. You stand up as fast as you can, trying to make yourself less vulnerable, even though you know that they can kill you in any second since you have no weapon against them. “Why are you doing this? Where’s Draco?”

Bellatrix laughs. “Oh, you will see him shortly, darling. If you stay alive.” You shiver. She walks closer to you and closer, and closer until you can practically feel her breath on your skin. You try your best not to show a disgusted face when she runs the back of her hand over your cheek while fake pouting, “So this is who our baby Draco fell in love with.”

“Where is my wand?” You send a deadly stare at Peter, thinking that he is most likely to tell you out of all three. Not to your surprise, he is slightly intimidated by you—even when you are only in your sixth year. He stammers while peering nervously at Bellatrix’s pocket, “I, I dun know.” And that is all you need. You pretend to look disappointed.

“Draco, here you are, your father—he’s looking for you.” You hear Narcissa talking to her son, your boyfriend, from afar. You are about to shout his name when Bellatrix puts a spell on you that refrains you from speaking and ties you up. You glare at her, struggling to move.

“What is so important that I need to go home in the middle of a term?”

His mother does not reply. The cell’s entrance clicks open.

“What is all this—y/n?” A stunned Draco stands in front of you. He can’t speak for a while since it is hard for him to take in the scene here. Colour drains from his face as he assumes what’s going on. Then when he clears his mind, he leaps to your side. He cups your cheeks and looks intensely into your eyes as if he is searching for any sign of hurt. His eyes are so grey like the misty air of London’s winter. He whispers, “Don’t worry, love, I’ll get you out of here.” You look down to his forearm with the dark mark clearly plastered over. It is as if he can read your mind when his eyes are full of regret.

“Enough of this, Draco, will you execute the Dark Lord’s work as he instructed?” asks the dark-haired Black sister. 

“Or else what? Let her go,” he mutters without turning to face her.

“What did you say?” Her sharp noise almost makes you shiver again.

A bright red light cuts the tension in the air as Draco turns and casts the stunning spell non-verbally at Bellatrix all in a blink of an eye. Even you have no idea what just have happened. As soon as she has gone unconscious, her spell on you lifts, and you are no longer tied and unable to speak. It is like there is a ton of weight coming off your shoulders and that you’re free again. You run over to her body and grab your wand at the pocket you remember you saw Peter staring at, pointing it immediately at him, who is trying to get out his wand. Draco has his pointed at his father, and the look on Lucius’ face is indescribable as he is being threatened by his own son. It is the father’s turn to lose colour on his face. Narcissa runs over only to drop everything in her hands, “Draco!”

“I had to, mum, I can’t let anyone hurt y/n.” He shakes his head, “I won’t do it, I won’t kill Dumbledore for him.” He walks to you and holds your arm, apparating both of you out of the mansion. 

You find yourself back to Diagon Alley a mere second later with him. You throw yourself into his arms, glad that he is alright. “I thought—I thought I was never going to see you again.” Tears are running by the corners of your eyes. 

He wipes them off gently, “trust me, I was more scared than anything by the thought of losing you. Are you sure you’re fine? Are you hurt?”

You shake your head, “no,” you choke a little. “What happens now that you basically betrayed your family and… Voldemort?” You whisper so no one passing by can hear you.

“They will hunt for us. To get us back.” Draco sighs and runs his slender fingers through his white-blond hair. “I don’t know if they now want us dead or alive, but I won’t let them get close to you, y/n. Even if it’s us against all else. You’re smarter and stronger than anyone I know, we can do it.”

“I believe you.” You tell him. “You have to be honest with me, Draco, why were you caught up in all of this in the first place?”

“I’ve never lied to you.” He lowers his head. “I didn’t know what I was getting myself into when father took me into one of their meetings. Then he took me to another, then another. Then one day, I found the Mark starting to appear when there was this itching pain on my forearm. The next thing I know—I was one of them.”

“I’m sorry.” You lie on his shoulder.

“It’s fine.” He strokes the back of your head. “Come on, we have to go. It’s not safe here.”

You stand back straight, “Where to?”

“Hogwarts, we need to find Dumbledore,” Draco states and grabs your hand in his, and the two of you are gone again.

- - -

- so here it is! the first part of the series xx i hope you enjoyed it. remember to let me know if you want to be tagged! feel free if you have any ideas that you’d want me to incorporate into this series too <3 love, rose.