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topoeiaz · 4 months ago

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Chapter 14: It's High Time I'd Love to See Me From Your Point of View (HP) Tom Riddle x OC

18+ blog • minors dni

word count: 3.2k

hp masterlist • pov masterlist • ao3

“Morning, Grace!”

“Oh- Morning, Gideon!” Thea quickly reciprocated Gideon’s friendly smile as the latter walked past Thea’s section of the dining table. Once her fellow sixth-year had gone far enough away, she turned to her friends at the table. “Is it just me, or am I receiving more greetings from the Slytherins than usual?”

As if on cue, Thea was greeted once again by another passerby in green-lined robes.

Rosier wiggled his eyebrows and crooned, “an overnight celebrity within Slytherin, aye?”

“Hear, hear,” remarked Avery, “next thing you know, they’ll be lining up for autographs.”

“Merchandise next!”

Another croon, “great idea! How about…”

Druella and Walburga sighed in exasperation and shook their heads at the boys’ teasing. The older girl took pity on Thea’s perplexion and clarified, “what they mean is: you’re quite officially an honorary snake now.” When that earned her a raised eyebrow from Thea, she continued, “they’ve seen the way you’ve allied yourself with the purebloods yesterday and I reckon they’ve connected two and two and have made you out to be Riddle’s equal, in romance and in the plan to revolutionise Wizarding Britain.”

Druella nodded along and added in, “not to mention, your relationship with Devon. Colour me unsurprised if the second-years now regard you as an almighty saint.”

“…Oh,” flustered, Thea’s hands began fiddling with each other when she suddenly felt Tom’s hand envelop hers. Her fingers switched focus onto Tom’s hand instead and fidgeted with it absentmindedly. “That’s nice of them. I certainly wasn’t expecting that!”

“I hear they’re interested to attend more of your research showcases.”

Thea blinked, taken aback by Mulciber’s exposé of the final consensus of the snakes that he had heard in other people’s conversation last night. “More?”

Then, Lestrange perked up in remembrance. “Yeah! Didn’t you mention offhandedly about something to do with: purity of the blood does not equate to magical prowess?”

“Jenkins was especially interested to hear more about that; said he wanted to debate you if you ever come around to doing it.”

To hear from Nott that his yearmate also wanted more… just how many people…

Thea hummed as she gave it a thought. “I don’t suppose it’s a bad idea. I’ve yet to collate preliminary research on it as I had already done with inbreeding, though. It will take a while until that’s ready, especially as classes have started to assign more tasks.”

“Not an issue at all, Grace,” Avery shrugged, “just let us know when you’re ready and we’ll post it up on our noticeboard.”

“The noticeboard-” Thea nearly choked on air. The noticeboard, for something as trifling as her?! How could that be justified?! “Why would you post it up on the noticeboard?! Surely, there’s not that many people who would show up!”

When the others averted their eyes as they muttered incomprehensibly to dodge her accusations, her lips parted in shock. A chuckle sounded from her right and she turned to Tom. “You underestimate just how much word has spread of your presentation yesterday. The previous audience would be keen to attend again while those who hadn’t been there for your first one would be curious to see why you’ve become a sensation in the house.”

“A sensation…”

“A sensation, indeed!” Druella chirped when Thea had trailed off.

Her friends eventually managed to snap her out of her speechless state and moved on to other topics. As if today had somehow become ‘Thea Appreciation Day’, however, Thea found herself subjected to another talk with an admirer of her other works after breakfast.

The group of friends had gone to potions class early and it seemed that Slughorn had the same idea too, for he was already there when they had shown up. They kept chatter to a minimal volume while Thea and Tom went quiet when the professor had decided to approach the pair sat in the front row.

“Ah, Tom! So glad to see you bright and early to class today! Say, is it alright if I borrow your time for a moment?”

An affable smile on his face, Tom replied, “of course, sir. How can I help you?”

“Seeing as it has been a few weeks now since the term has started, I thought it might be time to host another Slugclub meeting! The students must have settled in by now so I figured we could all catch up sometime soon; let’s say, dinner this Friday at half past six. I’ll go around inviting the new members but- if I may ask for a favour, could you let the existing members in your house know?”

“Certainly, professor. We’ll be there.”

“Ah, much thanks, Tom!” Thea startled when Slughorn turned his glinting eyes to her next, quickly putting on a naïve smile. “And how about you, Miss Grace? Have you finally changed your mind about joining? I’m sure that you will have a marvellous time there! It’s only right that a student as talented as you should show up!”

Thea hesitated. She spared a brief glance to Tom and took in his patient smile. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad if Tom would be there with her? “I suppose… I might?”

Slughorn brightened up and grinned in satisfaction. “Wonderful! I’m glad to hear that, Miss Grace! I won’t bother you now, then. I’ll see you both at the meeting this Friday!” He then proceeded to aim his course directly onto the unsuspecting Ravenclaw prefect who had come in a while ago, presumably to extend the same favour as he had with Tom.

Thea took Tom’s hand when he offered it on the desk, giving him her complete attention as he spoke, “will you join me for the meeting? It would be a better time with you there.”

The dread of wondering just how the gathering might go if she was to attend dissipated with Tom’s confession. She gave the back of his hand a small kiss and met her doe eyes with his. “If you’ll be there, I suppose I wouldn’t mind attending.”

His countenance softened and he squeezed her hand lightly. “I’ll make sure you’ll have a pleasant time there.”

They exchanged a brief look of compassion before Tom turned and casted a cool glance to the boys sat in the row behind; Avery and Mulciber had taken the table behind Tom and Thea’s, while Rosier was with Druella to the other boys’ left. “You boys in?” Having heard Slughorn’s invitation echoing in the quiet room, the boys understood Tom’s reference and gave their affirmative replies. When he returned his gaze to Thea, she had her bottom lip between her teeth and there was a tinge of heat in the darkness of her eyes as she stared into his. He gave a questioning hum and she refocussed into reality. “What’s up?”

Thea shook her head with a smitten grin on her face. “Was just thinking…” After a moment of hesitation, she decided to lay her thoughts bare for Tom. “I’ve noticed it very vaguely in the first meeting I had with the boys, but you really do look good when you’re in charge of something.”

“Oh?” Amusement curled his lips up further.

“Mhm,” her eyes almost visibly glazed over as her memories pulled her deeper and deeper into a chasm of want. “Merlin knows, I might just faint when you take the reins over the country.”

His eyes were now sporting the same glint. It was taking the both of them an excruciating amount of effort to not whisk one another away into a private space. Tom settled, instead, for a lingering kiss on Thea’s inner wrist. As innocent as the act had been, she was rendered nearly lightheaded when her blood rushed south. She only snapped back into her senses when he spoke again, “you flatter me, love.”

Thea had to remind herself of her own previous words, mind too occupied with Tom to remember immediately. “Just telling the truth, dear.”

The rest of the day passed by rather uneventfully. By the next morning, Thea had learned a couple more names of those in Slytherin and had gotten more familiar with the idea of being perceived as an honorary member of the house. The same went for the rest of the school population; they had gotten used to the fact that Thea tended to hang out with the snakes. That was why she frowned when Dumbledore announced a new seating chart at the next transfiguration class.

“I’ve observed the dynamics amongst the previous arrangement and have created a new one with the belief that it will improve the efficiency of the class,” Dumbledore had said when a student had questioned his motives.

As he recited the new pairings for the indefinite future, Thea shared a doubtful expression with Tom. Inter-house unity seemed not to be of the professor’s care because most of the students had been paired with their housemates, Thea and Tom included. Besides that, it was suspicious that Dumbledore had chosen to rearrange the class when it had been weeks into the semester; those usually happen earlier.

With a bitter smile, Thea gave a final peck to Tom’s cheek before joining the rest of the class in moving around for their new seats once Dumbledore had told them to. She found herself subjected to Reagan Diggory’s cheery greeting and quickly pulled up a friendly smile to return the sentiment. Guilt formed in her gut when she could only manage short responses to Diggory’s insistent attempts in getting to know her, her thoughts overly riddled with apprehension of Dumbledore’s true objective and dejection at losing the safety bubble that Tom brought with his presence. As it turned out, it was right for Thea to remain wary of the professor when, after class, he had approached her table and had asked to speak with her.

“How can I help you, professor?”

Her scepticism only grew when Dumbledore waited for the last person to leave the room, leaving her alone with the scheming man. Once the door had shut behind the final lagging person, he turned and regarded her with his iconic twinkling eyes. “If you may entertain an old man’s mindless worries, Miss Grace, I simply wished to make sure that you aren’t in any trouble.”

Careful to fake naivete in her composure as best she could, as if she was one of his impressionable admirers, she queried, “what kind of trouble do you mean, sir?”

“It is of the staffs’ unanimous agreement that you are particularly gifted in magic – charms, especially – and that makes you a valuable student, Miss Grace. Many others strive to achieve grades as outstanding as yours, and it seems that some are in the path of doing so – such as Mister Rosier, if I were to name one; his report has been particularly impressive lately. Powerful family, the Rosiers, very prone to suppress those weaker. You see, Miss Grace, Hogwarts tolerates no such power play and I only strive to ensure that it remains the case.”

Was he suggesting that Rosier had intimidated Thea into doing his schoolwork?! That was laughable! She had seen the boy deep in conversation with Tom before about school subjects and she had even, at one point, helped the boy with his charms essay when he had complained about it for a solid five minutes during lunch! For all the cheekiness that Rosier was capable of, he was an honest student who aimed to improve himself in academics. It was frankly disrespectful for Dumbledore to even imply otherwise!

Thea had to disguise her sharp intake of furious breath as a sigh and forced her features to ease up at Dumbledore’s expectant look. She cocked her head lightly to the side, modelling a perfect example of a calm and collected person, as she kept her tone level. “I can assure you, professor, that I have not seen Rosier act in such a way. It has only reminded me, however, of a recent bullying incident; I do hope that Lowe has received an appropriate punishment for tormenting Devon, sir.”

Dumbledore blinked twice, caught off-guard. That was as much of his true self that he was willing to show and his smile stiffened. “Ah, that is relieving to hear, Miss Grace. Do fret not, Mister Lowe has served his retribution as he deserved. Alas, it pains me that a student from my house has shown such behaviour and it has taught me, once again, that we should see the best in people-” Thea had to swiftly bite her tongue from retorting with his hypocrisy, and fumed when he continued with, “-unless, of course, they are beyond saving.”

Plastering on an ignorant look, Thea asked, “and how do we know if they are beyond saving, sir?”

At this, Dumbledore gave a sorrowful smile as if pitying her. “When they are incapable of remorse and kindness, my dear. As wonderful as the world is, there are those who choose to view their surroundings in shades of grey. They cannot love – nor will they try – and it is best to not associate with them lest they corrupt your vision too. It is regretful, but a necessary sacrifice to not grace them with our hearts. They will only cut it up and burn it to ashes without regret.”

“I see.” As much as she had tried to not let his condescendence get to her, her voice had let slip of the fact that his words had affected her. She hastily rectified it with a faux understanding smile and thanked him for his advice. “It is always delightful to be guided by a wise figure.”

Seemingly pleased, he gave a hearty laugh. “Perhaps my age has caught up with me, Miss Grace! I see that the time has come for me to accept my fate as a wise old man.” Thea hoped that her attempt in resembling amusement didn’t make her look too stupid. “I won’t hold you back any longer, Miss Grace. Although, just as a final… acumen, I suppose; do rely on your housemates when you need to. You’ve been with them for years now, they’re quite like your family here.”

“Of course, professor. Thank you, once again, for your worthwhile insights. I will see you again in the next class.”

He nodded. “Take care, my dear.”

Her eyebrows furrowed the moment her back had turned towards Dumbledore and she took care to not sprint out of the class instantly. Upon exiting the room, her eyes immediately fell onto Tom, back against the wall and sporting a worried expression, and the transfiguration professor’s comments reverbed in her head mockingly.

…incapable of remorse and kindness… cannot love – nor will they try… a necessary sacrifice… will only cut… burn…

Frustration filled her bones at Dumbledore’s impudence towards Tom- who deserved so much more.

Tom, who took initiatives to ensure her comfort; who had promised her a beautiful future with him; who had taught her romantic love by loving her. He wasn’t some robot programmed to act human, he had feelings just as much as the next person and had shown to be unafraid to express them to her. Time and time again, he had proven himself as someone who loved and cared. Helga- she was proud to love him with all her heart.

Thea barely fathomed a voice off to her side asking her if she was alright as she stalked straight for Tom. Her sights narrowed on the boy who had given her so much and she didn’t register anyone else in the vicinity. His worry only intensified upon seeing her unresponsive and serious – and fierce – and he straightened up at once, reaching for her as she approached closer. “Love-”

He was promptly cut off when her hands flew towards him and held him by the juncture of his head and neck, pulling him forwards to meet her halfway as she tiptoed to collide his lips with hers strongly. There was only a split second of hesitation from Tom before he matched her eagerness and kissed her back, pulling her body closer by her waist and tilting his head to the side slightly. The feel of his lips and caress as he reciprocated her feelings only strengthened her idea of him as a man who could – and will – love with passion, and she felt her tempestuous nerves soothed by him, gradually grounding herself back into the physical world and regaining control over herself.

Thea pulled back and planted her forehead with his, taking a deep, shaky breath in. Tom’s left arm went to wrap itself around her waist while his right brushed against her cheek softly. The air was silent as she took the time to recollect herself, releasing a heavy sigh out as she opened her eyes and retreated further to meet his eyes properly. The concern written clearly in his countenance had yet to be assuaged and she gave a lopsided smile, volume low as she spoke. “Sorry, that came out of nowhere. I’m just- frustrated!” Her frown took over her lips again.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Tom’s mind had been wrought with mental images of all the terrible things that could’ve possibly happened, anxiety only worsening the longer she had been in that room.

Thea shook her head. “He was just being stupidly ridiculous. Advised me against giving you a chance and convinced that I’m around your lot only because Rosier’s taking advantage of me.”

A strangled choke sounded behind her and she turned to see the aforementioned boy looking at her incredulously. “Taking- what!”

It was then that Thea realised that Tom hadn’t been alone, waiting for her to come out unscathed. Judging by Druella’s teasing – and worried, still – grin and the fact that none of the boys – bar Rosier – could look her in the eyes, she was safe to assume that they had been there all along. She cleared her throat and fought against averting her sights. “I know! It’s baffling, really.”

“But you’re alright?”

She turned back to Tom and covered his hand on her waist with hers reassuringly. “Yeah, just beyond miffed.”

As they headed to lunch, Thea told them all about Dumbledore’s warning. In response, she had received their aggressive support.

“Just saying, if you ever need to hide a body…”

“I’ve got bleach.”

“My jinxes could always do with some practice.”

They prided themselves in Thea’s laugh as she thanked them. The same reaction came from the seventh-years when they regaled the story again upon meeting them in the Slytherin table. It was with great sorrow that she had to disappoint them all. “Unfortunately, he’s needed to defeat Grindelwald. I don’t know for certain how he would do it and where it would take place, so I can’t manipulate the circumstances.”

That reminded the boys of her nature as a clairvoyant, and only proved to Druella and Walburga that their suspicions based on the boys’ hint were right. Grumbles were shared upon her admission and they glared at the blasé Dumbledore who had just walked into the hall.

“Can’t wait for you all to win over the ministry. Oh, the spectacle it would be to watch you overthrow him.”

Walburga muttered in agreement to Druella’s words. Thea stabbed her plate with her fork, her acute dislike for the man getting to the best of her as words left her venomously.

“Mark my words; he will go down.”

ao3 🌱 topaz 🌱 masterlist

don’t steal my work, claim it as your own, upload it to another site, or use it to train AI

dividers by: @strangergraphics-archive & @saradika-graphics

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #hp #hp fanfic #tom riddle #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle x oc #tom marvolo riddle #tom marvolo riddle fluff #tom marvolo riddle x oc

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orime-stories · 5 months ago

Note

3, 10, 18, 23, if you like :D

Thank you! <3 Ask list here, previous answers (including for 3 and 10) here, here, here and here.

Do you have specific music that makes you think about your OCs relationship?

I absolutely do! Aurelle and Tesalya both have songs for their relationships on their playlists (full spotify playlist links here and here, all the links for individual songs below being for youtube).

Aurelle/Aymeric

All the Works of Nature Which Adorn the World - Quiet as the Snow (Nightwish)

(Aurelle falling in love with Ishgard, which includes Haurchefant feels, general House Fortemps feels, and the first moments of her relationship with Aymeric)

Safe & Sound (Sam Tsui & Kurt Hugo Schneider)

(Aurelle and Aymeric snatching quiet moments together in the evenings and finding steadiness and safety in that in amongst all of the Plot Happenings)

all i need (the distance song) (Avery Lynch)

(Aurelle homesick and missing Aymeric when she's called away so often, especially when she's trapped on the First for ages)

AymEric's Song (Vienna Teng)

(At a point of being deeply comfortable and established in the relationship and deciding to go public and get married about it post-shadowbringers)

Come Back to Me (Les Friction)

(A prayer that is relevant for so many characters in so many directions throughout this story, and that gives me a lot of ship feels for Aurelle and Aymeric both praying and pleading that they'll be back together again soon despite all the odds that constantly need to be overcome)

Tesalya/Astarion

Wolves Without Teeth (Of Monsters and Men)

(Recognising the hurt and the messiness in each other and growing close from it despite themselves, even as that closeness has its own hurts and messiness)

Pretending (HIM)

(Falling bad for each other and not knowing what to do with that or how to fully believe and trust in it)

Blinding (Florence + The Machine)

(Astarion destroys her, in the aftermath of her enabling him to destroy himself)

Various Storms & Saints (Florence + The Machine)

(This story does not have a happy ending)

What is something you feel you have improved at in terms of portraying sexual or romantic relationships?

Gosh, I don't know? I mean, I definitely feel like my writing as a whole is always improving over time as I continue practicing at it and just continue growing as a human and in my understanding of the way other humans can be both in and of themselves and in relation to each other. I'm struggling to think of something specific to say about how I portray sexual and romantic relationships though...

#asks and tags #ship and oc relationship creation process ask list #oc: aurelle silmontier #oc: tesalya

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gardens-of-may · 7 months ago

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ENTRY TWO - chap. 23 to chap. 50

spoilers ahead

AAAAAAAAAAA

that was me singing opera

you wish you heard it

also i can’t stop talking in a british accent because guess is on repeat

good lord jennifer

😐😐😐

this book is getting BORING

caves are amazing 😑

WHY IS THERE A CHILD

is the child okay????

eughhhhhhb

fuck you child

ugh him

I STILL DONT UNDERSTAND WHY THERES A CHILD

oop he’s fAcToTuM

i’m sorry this book is getting more boring by the second

*an hour later*

the boy’s a liar the boys a liar he doesn’t see ya he’s not think about blahhhh

idk

i’m also currently falling asleep rn so 😗

CHILD LABOR

I DESPISE CHILD LABOR

I HAVE CERTAIN TOPICS IM VERY PASSIONATE ABOUT

AND VHILD LABOR IS ONE OF THEM

*days later* (i wasn’t lying when i said this book is boring)

okay good consent!!!

oop he knows

i thought i was smart for knowing the french

i didn’t know bonne chance meant good luck 😑

it’s like avery is nonexistent and i HATE it

because in the main trilogy, his presence was very shown

but i keep forgetting that avery’s even here because of this shitty narration

oh hi gray

oh my god grayson in shorts would actually scar me

oh my god

that’s evil

and she’s such a saint

i forgot that we’re dealing with his dad

oops

technically avery didn’t kill him

so what’s so bad about putting the evidence of what he did against avery out?

i love xander i miss him sm

bonjour!

sisters

hehehe 🤭

that’s true tho

sav and gray are very similar

gray also likes to deny his feelings tho

same bro 😜

nash is the best

ily him sm

suspicious

oh no

was gray told abt the devils mercy thing?

i don’t really know what whom is

LYRA

AHAHAGAHHAHS

ISVTHAT LYRA

IM GONNA SCREAM

STOP

MY ABAY

IVE BEEN IN LOVE WITH HER SINCE I HEARD OF HER AND THIS IS THE FURST TIME I MET HER

OMG

ASSHOLE 😍😍

IT IS LYRA

IM LIT DYING

NEW CRUSH

she’s so funny

that’s one way to deal with mental health

get a lyra!

no not shorts 😭

ughhhh

i love gigi

lemonade? too sweet?

oh shit

i js realized i can only imagine gray with a british accent

the aaron warner effect

grayson davenport hawthorne

i find it hilarious that it’s in autocorrect

“I am so sorry that Avery girl took all of your money,” one of the others said seriously.

“And chose your brother,” another one added.

“And broke your heart!”

“But not your spirit.” The bravest of the girls reached out and laid a hand on his arm”

HAHAHAHA

stop it’s like a fanclub

what has gotten into me?

😟😟😟

she isn’t a bitch

her future is probably brighter than your fucking phone screens

oh yeah i forgot

gigi doesn’t know who he is

GIGI NO

GOOD LORD NO

no he is not your boyfriend or anything like that

GIGI STOP

GIGI UGHHHH

THAT IMPLICATION ISBT

SAVANNAH IS NIT A BITCH

gigi what cleavage?

gray’s reaction tho

NASH 😍😍

i’m in the rural rn

an ode to nash

cupcake a palooza?

ohhhh

WHAT

tallllll

as a 5’5 girl anything above 6’ is tall

seems ugly

NOOOOO

FUCKING BITCH

UGHHHHHH

THAT BACKSTABBING BITCH

ARGHHHHH

USNT SHE RICH NOW?

a flashback? NOW???

TREE HOUSE YAY

how tall was jamie at ten?

that’s so mean

yeah what about nash ?

he’s amazing

okay gray might be perfect and xander can think outside the box but jamie is good at taking and measuring risks

is that a skill? i don’t know

js triggering pain and insecurities atp

wait they’re supposed to lose

ohhhh

okay so the point of the flashback is to show why he’s doing what he’s doing

wait what did he do?

ZELLA IS THE PROPRIETOR

I BET

BET

mr. hawthorne js has a aura that is

you know

i js read smth kinda sad and it lowk ruined the vibe

ANYWAY

i had hoped the proprietor was zella

ALREADY KNOW WHAT YOU GOT GOING ON DOWN THERE

sorry 🙂

THE HELL JAMIE

i forgot avery and jameson weren’t married

i don’t know why i thought they were

GODDAMN JAMIE

oh shut the fuck up

this feels so wrong

WHAT

WHAT DO YOU MEAN

brother?

ARGHHHHH

UGH

not this

where’s nash then?

AUGGHBBBBBB

EVE THAT FUCKING BITCH

what does that bitch want?

a boyfriend? not even once she’s six feet under

WHY ARE YOU SYCH A CREEP???

“my existence?”

your existence pains everyone

AHHHHH

i love gigi

oh shit

😳

anywayyyyyyy

LYRAAAAAAA

oh my god

hmmm

THATS SLATER???

BITCH IS UGLY AS FUCK

i love gigi 🥰

“prone to eyebrow arching, very fond of imperative sentences, blond and broody.”

how cute?

NO IT JUST GOT GOOD

WHAT TGE HELL JAMIE

WHAT HS WRING WITH YOU

i’m gonna kill you

“oN tHe cOnTrArY-” shut the fuck up

ugh

that’s terrifying

i hate him

awwww i love avery tho

I HATE YOU

WHAT

I THOUGHT THAT IT WENT

nash > gray > jamie > xander

i think im used to leo

“privileged, prep school boy”

ughhhh

HE WON

i didn’t think he would

oh shitttttt

😣😣😣😣

i’m not describing this

good lord jameson

risk?

OM MY GSIF

oh yeah

his brothers are gonna kill him 😀

why would you purposefully do this to yourself?

that’s cute rohan, but i don’t think so

heheh 🤭

bitch

what did you do in prague jameson? what?

no you did not

MMMM-

oh nooooo

AGHGHBBBVBVVVVVVBHHH

WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED IN PRAGUE???

gigi no

ajaksjjw he’s your brother you cannot date him 😭

that weirded me out even typing it

GIGI SYOP

HAHAHAHA

SAV AND GRAY NO

your imaginary girlfriend okay

(it’s me guys)

limes

our forever is limes

mhm

not like that

huh (i took a break if you couldn’t tell)

OH FRIENDLY WAY

UGHHHHH

FUCKING BASTARD

acacia is more of a mom to gray than fucking skye will ever be

good lord

UGHHH

NOW???

anw eight years ago everyone 🙂

this is so traumatic

yay

#the brothers hawthorne #tbh #tig #the inheritance games #🗝️⋆｡ may’s recs #🗝️⋆｡ fairy stole a book

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loserholland · 4 years ago

Text

𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐃.𝐌

Pairing ➺ Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader

Warning ➺ Flashbacks are italicized, talks of the dark mark, smut towards the middle, implied smut, swearing

Word Count ➺ 8,310

Summary ➺ Their relationship had always been in the grey area, what happens when they start to realize they want more?

A/N ➺ This takes place three years after the battle of Hogwarts. There are occasional flashbacks, and yes this is based off of Positions by Miss.Ariana Grande *insert monkey covering eyes emoji* Your last name in this is Avery (deriving from the sacred 28) ENJOY! so sorry it’s a day late!

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine @spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou@babebenhardy @rivervixenbaby @acklesholland @zabdisamor @keepingupwiththehollands @sweet666pea @sspider-parker @jackiehollanderr @caro0512 @thewinchesterchronicles @cporter003 @kisses-holland @spideysnugget @cryszus @sunflowerharrystyles @peterunderoos @ohbabycal @laucontrerasv @spider-mendes @jessybellsworld @quaksonhehe

☁ 𝔇𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔬 𝔐𝔞𝔩𝔣𝔬𝔶 𝔗𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ☁ - @beiahadid @capkatie

@iloveyou3000morgan @random-things-i-love

*The strike through your name just means I couldn’t tag you, please message me if anything*

☞ Masterlist ☜

Avery Manor, the second largest estate next to the Mafloy Manor. The grand victorian manor was in the Avery family for the past 100 years, passed down from generation to generation. The Avery’s were known to host the most extravagant galas. Each theme was always something extra, meaning the dresses that (Y/N) wore was talked about for days on end.

Halloween was drawing in close, which meant another ball. It’s been nearly three years since the Avery’s have hosted a ball. The last ball they held was before the return of Voldemort. Now with him dead, (Y/N) parents could finally breath. Before his return, they wanted out of the dark lords plans. Moving on with their lives, having (Y/N) and her older brother Ryan.

If Lucius hadn’t lost the prophecy, the Avery’s would’ve played host to all the death eaters. (Y/N) parent’s had left her and Ryan out of the dark lords plans, agreeing that their kids would attend the meeting but not take the dark mark.

(Y/N) never minded attending death eater meetings only because she knew she was there to ensure no harm comes to her family. The other reason she didn’t mind attending these meetings was because of Draco Malfoy.

Prince of Slytherin.

Correction, was the Prince of Slytherin.

𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦

𝘐'𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺

(Y/N) was the only person who knew Draco carried the dark mark, he had no choice but to take it, he was the only child of Narcissa and Lucius.

There were nights where she and Draco would go up to the Astronomy tower and watch the stars in silence, comfortable silence. Words weren’t needed to show how grateful Draco was to have (Y/N) there for him. With Harry hot on his tracks, plus the heavy burden he had to carry out, sitting in silence with (Y/N) calmed him. She never tried to pressure him into talking about what he was thinking, she’d just sit there with her head on his shoulder mumbling facts about the stars above.

“This years halloween theme, saints and sinners!” (Y/N) mother exclaimed in excitement, it was quite an understatement to say she was excited to host yet another one of the Avery’s grand galas.

“I’m guessing you and father will be sinners and Ryan and I will be saints?” (Y/N) snickered, earning a light scowl from her mother “Correction you and Ryan will be the sinners, the little devils you two are!”

𝘉𝘰𝘺 𝘐'𝘮 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘯𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘢

𝘖𝘯 𝘢 𝘚𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘺

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦

𝘖𝘯 𝘢 𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘺 (𝘈𝘩, 𝘢𝘩)

𝒴𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝐼𝓃𝓋𝒾𝓉𝑒𝒹. 𝒯𝑜 𝒿𝑜𝒾𝓃 𝓊𝓈 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎'𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝓃𝓊𝒶𝓁 𝐻𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝒢𝒶𝓁𝒶. 𝒮𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒮𝒾𝓃𝓃𝑒𝓇𝓈, 𝒪𝒸𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝟥𝟣𝓈𝓉.

“Draco dear, I scheduled a suit fitting for tomorrow. We’ll be attending the Avery’s gala.” Narcissa spoke, ever since the war it’s as though a thousand weights had been lifted off the Malfoy’s shoulders. With Voldemort dead, they were free from his grasp.

The Avery’s were long time friends of the Malfoy’s their kids spending summers at either the Malfoy’s or the Avery’s manor. Narcissa and (Y/M/N) often joked that Draco and (Y/N) would later be married in life, the two were best of friends. He won’t forget how (Y/N) walked with him not wanting him to feel alone reminding him that she was there for him and understood how he felt conflicted. Harry laid dead in Hagrid’s arms well- so we thought.

“Draco! Draco.” Lucius shouted his voice stern but tired, (Y/N) knew her parents wouldn’t force her to do what she wouldn’t want to do so they stay silent within the crowd of death eaters.

Everyone’s eyes were on the platinum blonde haired boy, wondering what his next move would be. “Draco, come.” Narcissa spoke causing Draco to swallow the lump in his throat but before he could descend down the many broken steps of Hogwarts (Y/N) entwined her hand with his.

“We’ll go together.” she mumbled giving his hand a light squeeze.

From that day forward the Malfoy’s and Avery’s were done with the dark lord. They were glad he was finally dead.

There were soft pecks against his window, it was a gray screech owl that belonged to no other than (Y/N). Dropping the rolled up message into his hands, the owl quickly left. Unrolling the parchment wondering what she had wrote him now.

𝘚𝘰, 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳?

-(𝘠/𝘐).𝘈

He snickered lightly padding over to his desk to write back, the pair had always wrote to each other. Sometimes they’d aparate into each others rooms whether they were in school or at home for the summer. This only started because of Draco, during his sixth year he encountered many nightmares; most relating to the task he had to complete. Other nights he was well restless, staring at the mark that rest of his left forearm.

One of the benefits the two had was having their own dorms. Which many students envied, nicknaming the two Prince and Princess of Slytherin buying their way through Hogwarts.

“(Y/N)?” a soft voice spoke, the girl laid fast asleep unaware of the platinum blonde haired boy standing in her dorm. Slowly he moved towards her beside tapping her shoulder causing her to stir around a bit. Her (Y/H/C) was a bit disheveled from her constant tossing and turning.

“(Y/N).” Draco spoke once more causing her to jolt slightly, “Hm?” she mumbled rubbing her eyes lightly, her vision was still a bit blurry but she knew it was none other than Draco Malfoy standing beside her bed. Slowly she moved to the left side of the bed allowing Draco to slip under the covers.

He sat upright waiting for (Y/N) to do the same, she moved her hair out of her face swiping the back of her hand across her mouth. “Couldn’t sleep?” she questioned glancing over at Draco, his eyes focused on his left arm.

She placed her right hand over where the mark laid, her heart ached for Draco. Of course she couldn’t say anything because she never had the mark, she couldn’t sympathize. All she could do was reassure him everything would be okay and everything would be over soon.

Sometimes Draco talked about how it burned, ached, and how much he wanted to scrub it off. There were times where he did try to scrub it off and (Y/N) was quick to stop him from bruising his pale skin even more. It was as though their souls were connected. She could sense when he was in trouble, sense when there was something wrong.

There were days where he would mumble about how much he hated wearing long sleeves, how he felt as though he was suffocating drowning deeper and deeper in his own thoughts. The moment he reached his dorm he’d rip off his robe and tug at the sleeves of his dress shirt finally being able to breath.

“Nightmare” he mumbled pausing for a moment unsure if he should continue, “You don’t have to tell me if you aren’t comfortable Dray, I understand.” (Y/N) moved her hand down to give his hand a light squeeze giving him a warm smile.

“Wanna go for a walk? Or, head to the Astronomy Tower?”

Draco shook his head lightly “We need sleep, we have a potions exam in a few hours.” he mumbled causing (Y/N) to snort loudly, “Dray we both know even if you had zero sleep, you’d still pass that exam.” he rolled his bright gray eyes playfully before settling into bed.

𝗜 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗮 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗽𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗲.

- 𝗗.𝗠

“That git.” (Y/N) mumbled placing the parchment into her desk draw along with the many other letters and notes he had written to her over the past seven years. She didn’t start saving his letters till their sixth year of Hogwarts.

I guess you could say (Y/N) fancied him. She grabbed a new piece of parchment, grabbing her quill to quickly write another note before she headed to find her perfect dress.

“Ailée, to Draco.” she spoke to her beloved screech owl watching as she took flight to Malfoy manor. Ailée quickly dropped the note off before flying back, Draco picked up the note Ailée had placed on his bed unrolling it to see what else (Y/N) had wrote.

𝘙𝘦𝘥.

-(𝘠/𝘐).𝘈

“Red?”

𝘕𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘯𝘰 (𝘕𝘰)

𝘕𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦, 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘦

'𝘊𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦

The night had finally came, the manor was a lively as it could ever be. Chatter and laughter echoed through the room, (Y/N) stood near her bedroom window awaiting for Draco to arrive. She had accompanied her family early greeting their guest as they arrived but headed up to retouch up her makeup.

Finally she watched as the Malfoy family step out of the long black limousine, (Y/N) gave herself one last look in the mirror before heading downstairs quickly catching the eye of everyone there.

“There she is!” her father spoke happily, (Y/N) bowed lightly “Good evening Mr and Mrs.Malfoy, Draco.” Narcissa gasped loudly taking both of (Y/N) hand’s into her’s.

“My dear you look amazing! Never fail to steal the spotlight don’t you agree Draco?”

She wore a deep red satin slip dress with black heels, her hands decorated with a few rings one of them being the family ring. A beautiful gold snake ring that wrapped around her ring finger with emerald eyes. Her makeup was simple, mascara with a deep red lipstick.

(Y/N) smiled widely at Narcissa glancing at Draco who remained speechless. Narcissa always loved (Y/N), she saw her as her own daughter and hopefully future daughter-in-law.

“Draco?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat, admiring the Satin red slip dress she was currently wearing her red lips to match the dress. “You look amazing (Y/N/N).” Draco responded earning a small smirk from (Y/N).

“Why don’t we get a drink? You look flushed Dray.” (Y/N) grabbed his hand leading them away from their parents. The two were dressed as opposites, (Y/N) a sinner and Draco a saint. But the two both knew they should be dressed in red. Before she turned the corner to enter the kitchen, the two were in her room Draco had apperated them there.

Draco was quick to press her against her bedroom door, his hands wrapped around her bare neck a part of him had a feeling she didn’t wear a necklace because she wanted his hands wrapped around her throat.

“We were suppose to get you a drink Dray.” (Y/N) spoke in a fain voice, looking up at Draco innocently. This wouldn’t be the first time the two have been caught in this situation. One night (Y/N) was in Draco’s dorm, though Voldemort was back both their parents wanted the two to continue their last year at Hogwarts

Draco was being well, Draco. Distant, cold, silent. He had been grumbling all day today and every time (Y/N) asked if he was okay all he’d say was “I’m fine” or “Didn’t you ask me that already?”

“You need to open up sometime soon Draco! The more you keep it all bottled up, the deeper you’ll drown.” (Y/N) shouted her arms flailing around in anger, Draco mumbled “Muffliato.” not wanting anyone who passed by his dorm to hear their scream fest.

“I’ve told you, I’m fine! Nothing is wrong!” he massaged his temple with his index finger and thumb.

“Merlin Draco! Put your ego aside for once! You know I’m right, one day you’ll explode!” Deep down he knew she was right. She’s always right, but he didn’t want to tell her that she was right. Maybe it was his pride and ego that stopped him from giving in and opening up. Maybe it was because he never spoke about his feelings before. Sure he talked about his nightmares, but that was all.

“You can’t keep brushing this off, be honest with yourself and me! You put up this cold exterior, pushing people away. Why? Is it because daddy didn’t love you enough?”

“You better shut your mouth Avery.”

“Or what Draco? You’ll tell your father? Is that all you do? Run to your father to get rid of the problem instead of addressing it yourself? Why are you too much of a c-”

It all happened in a flash, Draco’s hand wrapped around her throat pushing her against his dorm door. (Y/N) body hit the door with a thud, the air in her lungs knocked out of her. She didn’t expect him to do this, anything but this. Her body felt hot the feeling of Draco’s cold rings made her stomach flip, the tension between the two so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“Go ahead (Y/N), finish your sentence.”

Draco’s beautiful gray eyes were now a deep black the devil was surely dancing behind them “What? Basilisk got your tongue?” (Y/N) only smiled widely before saying, “Just because you have your hand wrapped around my throat, doesn’t make you any less of a coward.”

Crashing his lips into her’s, adding on more pressure to the side of her throat causing (Y/N) to moan out loudly. All the tension the two had built up inside of them was released that night, it was nothing but rough Draco’s dorm reeked of lust.

𝘚𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶

𝘊𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮

𝘐'𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘖𝘭𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘐'𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘱𝘴

“You look ravishing darling.” Draco mumbled his breath fanning over her lips, one slight move her lips would be on his. “You don’t look too bad yourself Dray.” her hands brushed over his shoulders admiring the white velvet suit. After the war Draco had gotten a bit more fit, not that he wasn’t before but he has definitely changed over the past three years.

A good change.

(Y/N) smirked pushing him back lightly, “Now, let’s go shall we? Dinner will be served soon.”

𝘒𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘰, 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶

(Y/N) was in a deep conversation with Pansy, the two talking about Pansy’s recent travels around Europe. Every so often she’d glance at Draco a smile tugging at her lips with every glance, sometimes she felt like a lovesick school girl. Their conversation was interrupted by Theo asking Pansy to dance, in which she gladly accepted. Leaving (Y/N) to her lonesome. Draco got up from his seat walking around the round table to where (Y/N) sat, he stuck his hand out to her

“Would you like to go for a walk?”

The beautiful silver light kissed their skins, the night was quiet, the sky was clear, a cool gust of wind swept between the two causing (Y/N) to wrap her arms around herself. Draco quickly removed his dress jacket, draping it over her shoulders.

“You should’ve taken a jacket.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes playfully, “Well in my defense I didn’t think it would be this cold.” she shoved her shoulder lightly against his earning a small chuckle from Draco. Even with these heels, she was still a bit shorter than him it’s always been like this.

Their hands brushed against one another with each graze electricity coarsed through their veins, a pink tint painted their cheeks. (Y/N) laced her fingers with his, Draco’s hands were always cold but she never minded it all that much.

She led the two down into her mother’s most prized possession, her rose garden. It varied it different colors from; red, white, yellow, pink, and even lavender. “Let’s dance.” (Y/N) said gleefully, placing her right hand atop of his shoulder whilst her left was already intwined with his right hand.

Placing his left hand on her waist, the two swayed from side to side. (Y/N) slowly rested her head against his chest allowing her eyes to flutter shut. Draco began to hum a low melody, rest his chin atop of her head. A smile painted her lips, this felt like deja vu.

𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵, 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦 (𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦)

“How long have you been up here? I didn’t see you in the Great Hall.”

(Y/N) quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks glancing to see Draco standing atop the stairs. She didn’t need to look in the mirror to know her makeup was a mess. Draco however looked amazing, the girl he had asked from beauxbatons was lucky to have him as a date. He was wearing that same old smug look on his face, one she knew all too well. If she admitted to what had happen, she knew Draco would say “I told you so.” or “I was right wasn’t I?”

“I just um, needed fresh air.”

Draco moved to stand next to her, shrugging off his dress jacket to drape over her shoulders, she fixed her gaze to the ground. (Y/N) didn’t want to admit that Draco was right, he had pestered her about having McLaggen as her date. The two didn’t talk for two weeks because she was annoyed at the fact that Draco was making comments about her date, she was’t complaining or criticizing his date so why did he feel the need to do that to her?

“You only come up here to think, when something is bothering you, or if you’re sad. So which is it? Or is it all three?”

(Y/N) cleared her throat, “Shouldn’t you be with your date?” attempting to change the subject. Draco chuckled lightly, “I could ask you the same thing.” she licked her lips closing her eyes for a brief moment.

“I’ve been up here well- the entire ball. I um, caught McLaggen snogging a a girl from Ravenclaw.” (Y/N) mumbled, finally looking up at Draco giving him a small smile tears blurring her vision. She chuckled lightly wiping away the fallen tears, “So, go ahead and gloat you were right.” Draco pulled her into a tight hug, McLaggen didn’t know what was coming for him the next day.

Draco pulled away from her, extending his hand out for her to take. “It’s only right for you to have your first dance. The yule ball doesn’t happen every year does it?” she gave him a warm smile taking his hand. His left hand rest on her waist, while her right hand was on his left shoulder.

There was that same bubbly feeling again, the feeling that made her feel like a lovesick puppy. As if she was under some kind of love potion, she had been trying to push away this feeling. (Y/N) was unsure of what she felt towards Draco, the two were best friends since well birth.

𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘵, 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘐'𝘮 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 (𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶)

“You look amazing tonight. Red is a beautiful color on you, it’s Mcgagging lost. But, you know I’m always right.” (Y/N) let out a light laughter slapping Draco’s chest playfully as she rolled her eyes.

“You don’t look too bad yourself Dray.”

It was during that exact moment she knew she loved Draco, it was that exact moment she knew she had feelings for him.

She smiled against Draco’s chest, she loved it when he’d hum to her or even when he’d sing. But that was on very rare occasions usually when he thought (Y/N) was asleep. “I have ever mentioned that red is a beautiful color on you?” his chest vibrated as he spoke causing (Y/N) to pull her head back slightly looking into his beautiful gray eyes.

“Hm, I think you have. Didn’t you tell me that the night of the yule ball?” Draco lifted their hands that were intwined signaling for (Y/N) to twirl. She let out a small giggle as he dipped her, before pulling her back up. He looked between her beautiful (Y/E/C) and red painted lips, intoxicated by your beauty.

They wanted nothing more than to feel electricity coarse through their veins, to fill that sense of ecstasy that euphoria. It was as though they were each other’s drug never having enough of each other.

Their relationship was something they never really touched subject on, they were in the grey area. I guess you could say they were friends with benefits, but they did what couples do: go out on occasional dates, buy each other stuff, sleepover, travel. Yet they never got around to what this entire relationship is.

(Y/N) used her free hand placing it on the back of Draco’s neck giving into that feeling of need and lust, it was as though time stopped when the two were together. That same electric feeling coarsed through their veins a feeling they knew all too well. It was a beautiful feeling.

𝘚𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘐'𝘮 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘯𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘢 𝘖𝘯 𝘢 𝘚𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘖𝘯 𝘢 𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘺 (𝘈𝘩, 𝘢𝘩)

“Draco dear! Where are you?”

The two quickly pulled away from one another stepping away from each other, as pink painted their cheeks. Draco’s lips were now a bit red thanks to (Y/N)’s lipstick, she giggled at the sight. The two walked out of the rose garden to see Narcissa standing on the graveled path, “Ah there you two are! So sorry (Y/N), we’re going to call it a night. But we’ll see you sometime next week for dinner possibly? Your parents will fill you in!”

“Same time tomorrow?” Draco whispered the same smug smirk tugging at his lips.

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

This little rendezvous of theirs started no longer than a few months ago. It was a spur of the moment idea, the two wanting to get out of the house so- they decided to rent a room at some muggle hotel and well the night was long.

Very long.

Usually they’d meet up after Draco was done with class, he was studying to become a healer. He never needed to work both of them were trust-fund babies, but they had their own goals and ambitions to fill. (Y/N) was underway to becoming the potions teacher at Hogwarts. If Draco hadn’t gone into studying to become a healer, he would’ve also fit as the potions professor.

“Hi, I have a room under the name Isabelle Johnson.”

The two never stayed at the same hotel, it was always different. Tonight they’ll be staying at The Langham. She always used the same name though, different hotels but same name.

“I have you for a Junior suite Ms.Johnson is that correct?”

(Y/N) gave the young woman a nod of approval awaiting her room key, “I have another guest coming, my husband Tom Johnson will be coming by later. Is it okay if you leave an extra key for him?” The receptionist nodded typing in the computer leaving a note to herself or to anyone else who may check Draco in. Once (Y/N) got the keys she headed up the elevator to the suite.

𝘕𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘯𝘰 (𝘕𝘰) 𝘕𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘦 '𝘊𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦

She had been in one or two relationships before this whole friends with benefits with Draco. She had dated Cassius Warrington for merely a six months, the two came to a mutual agreement no hard feelings when it came to the break up. Then she had dated Terence Higgs, that break up was rough. He was so “in love” with (Y/N) but she never felt the same way. There was something the two boys had asked her before they had broken up.

It was something she pushed to the back of her mind, when the two had asked her that question she was unsure on how to answer them. Maybe it was because of Draco and her feelings towards him. Or maybe it’s because she simply didn’t feel the same way. Draco wasn’t one to ask her about her relationship, if anything he’d just ask how Warrington and Higgs were doing but nothing more.

“Thank you for meeting me Cassius.” (Y/N) spoke, offering him to take a sit across from her. She had asked him to meet at this muggle café in London, it was small, minimalist. The air was damp, the same clouds casted over gloomy London, the smell of fresh rain filled the streets. The two had been dating for nearly six months, but doing those six months she felt as though she could never meet him halfway.

Once the two got their orders silence engulfed between the two, she sighed lightly it’s best for her to start the conversation. I mean she did ask for him to meet her here.

“I’m not going to be rash. But, for the last few months I’ve felt distant from you, which is not your fault really it’s mine. I never met you half-way for much, turned you down to go on dates. I just feel as though, I don’t love you as much as I thought I did.”

Cassius sighed twirling the mini spoon around his now empty tea cup, he had noticed how distant she became but just hoped that she would come around. But, a part of him knew the love she had for him was not as strong as it was before. It was like the flame on a candle wick, most of the wax halfway gone leaving the flame to burn whatever scraps was left.

“I-um knew for a while now.. I just held onto to hope. But, I don’t want you to be in a loveless relationship, neither should I. We can still be friends though.” (Y/N) placed her hand atop of Cassius giving it a soft squeeze, “This is a mutual breakup, we can both agree if anyone ask we came to the conclusion together.”

Terence was harder, Pansy had set the two up on a blind date. He had just gotten out of a relationship with some girl from Hufflepuff, a girl from their year of course.

It was harder to get out of that relationship because not even three weeks in he claimed to have loved (Y/N). A part of her knew he was still hurt from just recently getting out of a relationship, she also knew when he said I love you he didn’t address it to her. Merely because there were times when the name of his ex-girlfriend would slip past his mouth. This never bothered her as much as she thought it would do, if anything it was eye-opening.

The night she had broken up with Terence, she sat with him as he cried. She sat there and told him if him and Hannah were meant to be, they’d find their way back to each other eventually.

The question both boys asked before she had left them, that had her laying wide awake at night was:

“Is it because of Draco? Are we breaking up because of him?”

Sure, the two were close. They were best friends. She had broken up with the two because she was not in love, she didn’t feel the same way. But a part of her knew Draco could’ve been a contributing factor.

The sound of door creaking open brought her out of her thoughts glancing over at the clock to see Draco was a bit later than usual. (Y/N) smirked standing from the bed to meet Draco halfway, “You’re later th-”

“Strip and get on the bed.”

This hasn’t happened in a long while, her stomach turned in excitement as she clenched her thighs together. Draco slowly walked up to her wrapping his fingers around her throat, “Do I need to repeat myself?” (Y/N) smiled at him innocently before shaking her head.

“No.”

“Good girl.”

𝘚𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘊𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘐'𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘖𝘭𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘐'𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘱𝘴 𝘒𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘰

It had been a long day for Draco, usually because some other trainees may have been being complete douche bags or patients would give him glares, and some healers may have been degrading him due to having the mark. He was use to the mark, sometimes forgetting it’s there. So when he’d roll up his sleeves to his elbow the mark was visible.

His eyes wandered over her naked figure, usually she’d shy away from his gaze but it made her feel more confident and proud. Draco stood at the edge of the bed, his hands shoved into his front pockets not hiding his visible bulge. Usually when he has a long day like this, she’ll let him do whatever he wants. To an extent of course, he knew her limits as she knew his.

Nights like these left her unable to walk the next morning, next few days to say the least. Along with many, many marks and bruises. She never minded though. Nights like these made her feel alive, the way his hands wrapped around her throat, or the way he’d kiss her, mark her all over her chest.

“Are you gonna let me do whatever I want tonight?” His beautiful grey eyes were far gone it was much darker and almost black. (Y/N) nodded leaning up on her elbows, “Anything you want Draco, I’m yours.” sometimes she question herself, was her heart talking or was it her head. Was love talking or was it just purely lust?

Draco’s hand moved to her cheek brushing his thumb against her cheeks his rings were cold against your hot cheeks. That only fueled your desire, you loved his rings one caught your eye. You had recently given it to him to show how proud you were that no matter what was thrown at him at work he was still able to keep himself under control.

You had stopped by Saint Mungo’s meeting up with Draco for lunch, something you tried to do as much as possible to keep his spirits up because you knew many of the healers there along with patients would have a lot to say about having a Malfoy treat them.

She played with the velvet green box in the pocket of her trench coat, inside was a beautiful Garden silver snake ring on the inside of the ring she had gotten his initials engraved. He saw her sitting inside the waiting area sighing in relief, just the person he wanted to see.

Walking in he placed a kiss to the crown of her head, “Let me get my coat and we’ll head out.” (Y/N) nodded in approval watching him turn the corner. A soft scoff caught her attention, she glanced to see a woman who seemed to be no older than forty-five reading the daily prophet.

“May I help you?” (Y/N) never meant to come off as rude but she knew it was witches and wizards like her that made Draco want to quit becoming a healer. The woman glanced at (Y/N) placing the prophet down.

“Are you dating him? Do you know who he is? A death eater dear!”

(Y/N) scoffed lightly it’s been three years. Three years! Yet still people bother to talk about how Draco was a death eater, only judging what they see. “First off, he’s not a death eater! Voldemort is dead! And yes I know who is he! That’s my best friend and I am honestly sick and tired of you people bashing him for his name! You should not be judging someone you-”

“(Y/N)” Draco placed his hand on her shoulder giving it a small squeeze, “let’s go.” she picked up her purse brushing her hair out of her face turning on her heels in anger walking away from the waiting room.

“Have a great rest of your day ma’am.” Draco spoke before catching up with (Y/N). The lady was left speechless and embarrassed of her actions from earlier. (Y/N) was tired of people degrading Draco of his name and past, hoping that one day they can all just move on.

Draco finally caught up with her. He knew how much it angered her when he’d tell her about what he had encountered at work. He tried to not let it bother him as much, trying his best to just let it go and forget about it. The mark was like a bad stain that he was stuck with.

“Darling.”

(Y/N) turned around to wrap her arms around his neck, “I’m so sorry Dray.” his brows furrowed in confusion as to why she was apologizing he pulled back slightly placing his hands on her cheeks. Using his thumbs to brush her tears away, “You don’t need to apologize. Thank you for defending me, I really appreciate.” she gave him a small smile remembering the box in her pocket.

“I um, have something for you.”

She held the box between the two causing Draco to smirk, “Are you proposing Avery?” (Y/N) rolled her eyes playfully “You wish.” he took the box into his hands opening it to see a beautiful silver snake ring. Carefully he picked it up watching as it glistened in the sunlight, he noticed a small engraving in the ring noticing it was his initials.

“I know you go through some much with patients and well people like- that witch so I wanted to get you a gift to remind you that you’re strong and it doesn’t matter what other’s think.” she watched as he slipped it onto his middle finger noting that it fit perfectly.

“Thank you (Y/N/N). I love it.”

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘰, 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘊𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘐'𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘖𝘭𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘐'𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘱𝘴 𝘒𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘰, 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶

“Say it again.” he whispered as he slowly leaned forward.

“I’m yours.”

The kiss was rough and sinful their teeth clashed against each other Draco’s hand moved around her throat causing (Y/N) to let out a low moan. He pulled away moving kisses down her neck before pausing for a second.

He quickly undid his tie “May I darling?” (Y/N) smiled “You can do whatever you want sir, take me how you would like.” Draco smirked wrapping the satin material over her eyes tying it behind her head.

“Such a good girl. Now, lay back I’m gonna go fetch something.”

(Y/N) did as she was told laying back her head coming in contact with the puffy pillow. She heard the door shut, she didn’t want to take her blindfold off but she was unsure of where he had gone. A few minutes later the door opened back up, (Y/N) didn’t dare to move not wanting to anger Draco more than he already was.

Draco placed the glass of ice onto the night stand, he leaned over pressing a chaste kiss on the corner of her lips causing her to gasp lightly. This was the first time he had blindfolded her, everything was heightened now that once of her senses was blocked. He finally placed his lips on hers, this kiss was different it was slow and passionate unlike earlier.

(Y/N) felt Draco pull away slightly as she lifted her head in attempt to find his soft pink lips. He took an ice cube from the glass and placed it between his teeth, slowly he grazed it over her chest watching her face contour in pleasure. This was also new, and it had her wondering where did he learn this from?

He grazed the ice cube over her nipples watching as her chest rose and fell, he dragged the ice cube further down the valley of her breast watching as it left a trail. Her body felt as though it was on fire, she could feel Draco trailing the ice cube up and down her inner thigh wanting nothing more than for him to just put his mouth to different use.

Her breathing was heavy chest rising up and down ever few seconds, she gripped the sheets. His long fingers played with your juices teasingly, as his tongue brushed against your sensitive nub – at this point she could hear her heart beat pounding in her ear. Silently begging for more, wanting him to just get straight to the point.

She couldn’t see his face but she knew he had a smug look, that git. Draco finally gave in wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves causing (Y/N) to gasp loudly. Unsure if she could move, she kept her hands to the side trying her platinum blonde. In her past two relationships they could never compare to what Draco makes her feel with every touch she felt euphoric, entranced, under his spell.

“Dray.”

The mixture of his fingers vigorously pumping into you as his warm mouth nurtured your clit, he was entranced you couldn’t see it but he adored the way your squirmed under his touch. The way you bit your lip and threw your head back in pleasure. It was truly a beautiful sight.

That same familiar knot formed in her stomach, she bucked her hips against his mouth chasing her high. Draco pulled away before she could even reach it causing her to whimper in disapproval. He began to remove his dress shirt leaning forward to kiss her red lips, tasting herself on his lips. The sound of his belt unbuckling was music to her ears.

“Draco please, I want to see you.”

He leaned forward untying the knot, her eyes fluttered open adjusting to the light of the room leaning forward to press kisses onto his bare abdomen helping him undone his belt. Draco placed his left hand around her throat, “Just lay back for me darling.” her eyes glanced over to the mark. It wasn’t a deep jet black, it was now a bit of a charcoal gray. She knew he had been finding remedies to get it removed or to at least make it fade. Whatever he was doing was working.

(Y/N) nodded laying back into the soft white sheets watching as Draco removed whatever garment of clothing he had left reaching into his back pocket to grab the gold foil quickly unwrapping it to place the latex onto his shaft.

His mouth travels through your neck, nibbling at the sensitive skin, as a low moan escapes from your lips. The sound seems to have ignited something deep inside of him, he finally enters you, your eyes shut once more and you see stars. He started off at a slow pace, your hands reached around to running them up and down his back feeling how tense his muscles were.

“Let go Dray, be as rough as you need to be. I can handle it.”

He picks up the pace and holds one of your legs above his shoulder. His hips thrust into yours and you hide your face in the crook of his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin. His scent intoxicates you, a sweet mixture of his cologne and sweat. Slowly he brought his hand up to wrap around your throat, her eyes rolled back in pleasure one of her hands wrapped around his wrist.

“Faster.”

They were a mess, their moans and pants painting an unholy symphony he removed his hand from her neck allowing the two to trade places. (Y/N) was now sitting atop of him, he laid back placing his hands behind his head.

“Go on darling, get yourself off.”

(Y/N) smirked as she bounced, creating a steady rhythm, one that suits the both of you. Draco has one of his hands gripping your waist tightly, guiding you as you ride him and pushing you down harder. Your hips roll against his, creating a refreshingly sinful friction. His other hand travels up your torso, finding your breasts and playing with your nipples, taking his time with each of them.

She leaned forward pressing kisses onto his chest and moving up to his shoulder biting the exposed skin causing Draco to hiss in pain and pleasure. The obscene sounds of skin against skin fill the room, as you bounce on his shaft. You can feel the familiar bubble of warmth grow on your lower abdomen and his name falls from your lips like a spell. No matter how many times they’ve done this, she was still left speechless.

(Y/N) wrapped her hand around his throat tugging him up, he sat upright wrapping his arms around her waist pulling her flushed against his chest as they reached their high. Their lips moved against one another moving in-sync, the two were a panting mess. Her hand dropped from his throat moving both hands to grip his shoulders.

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘜𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘰 (𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘩) 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘐 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰

“Come on darling let go.” Draco rasped brushing her hair out of her face, he kissed her once more watching as she buried her head into the crook of his neck riding out her high, Draco following not too long after.

“I love you.” (Y/N) mumbled as she rode out her high.

Draco heard it loud and clear, watching as (Y/N) rolled off of him. She didn’t mean it, I don’t think she did. He was panicking, not wanting to bring up the subject. He wasn’t even sure if she heard herself say it, maybe it was the sex. She didn’t mean it.

(Y/N) rolled over to an empty bed, usually the two would just sleep over and leave together the next day. This was different, she noticed a note sitting on the nightstand with her name on it.

𝙃𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙮, 𝙄 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙜𝙞𝙛𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙪𝙢'𝙨 𝙗𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙪𝙥.

-𝘿.𝙈

Her brows furrowed in confusion, this wasn’t the usual Draco. Did she say something? She began to rack her brain, unsure of what she could’ve said to have Draco running out the door.

“Incendio.” she mumbled watching as the note began to burn, what did she do wrong?

It’s been a month since the two had last met, a month. (Y/N) had sent him notes the first two weeks since their last meet up yet Draco never wrote back. After the two weeks she stopped, still unsure of what she may have done. However, she was sure tonight she’d finally get the answer. The Malfoy’s had invited the Avery’s for dinner, something that was long awaited.

“(Y/M/N), (Y/F/N) come in! Ah! I see we only have (Y/N) tonight.” Lucius spoke as they walked into the Malfoy Manor. Before it use to be so dark and dreary, now it was bright, lively, warm and welcoming.

The last time she was back at the Manor was way before Narcissa had given it a makeup. She loved to wander the many halls of the manor, (Y/N) walked the halls admiring the portraits of the Malfoy family. She stopped in front of a portrait with Lucius, standing to the left of Draco whom sat in a grand chair Narcissa to his right and his Aunt Bellatrix not too far from Narcissa.

Just then a pair of cold hands covered her eyes, “Harry?” (Y/N) questioned sarcastically earning a low scowl from Draco. She knew the two were now good friends, but she also knew just what to do to push his buttons.

“You wound be Avery.”

(Y/N) smiled brightly as he moved his hands to wrap around her waist, resting his chin on the crown of her head. She was still staring at the family portrait, Draco seemed so sad, the color from his face drained from all the stress that was onto him.

“You look much happier now.. did you know that?” her voice was barley a whisper, loud enough for the two to hear. Draco smiled at her lifting his chin slightly to rest on her shoulder, “It’s thanks to my mum, and well to you-”

'𝘊𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘮 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘰 (𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘮 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘰) 𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘩 𝘐'𝘮 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘚𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶

She turned around resting her hands on his chest, “mostly you honestly. You stuck with me no matter what the circumstances were.” (Y/N) smiled pressing a kiss to his pale cheek. “I know, I’m the best! Now, let’s get lunch I’m starved.” Draco chuckled at her comment watching as she pulled away from his arms.

He loved her. He really did but, he was also afraid. He’s never had a relationship before, sure he may have had girls drooling over him and well shagged a few but it was never anything serious. But (Y/N)? He knew he loved her, but he just felt afraid.

(Y/M/N) smiled, “Yes! Ryan is off on a quidditch match.” (Y/N) admired the beautiful chandelier that hung in the foyer, her eyes moved from the ceiling to the marble floors. Narcissa did an amazing job.

“Draco’s in the library dear.”

She turned her attention away from the ground and back to Lucius giving him a warm smile, “Thank you Mr.Malfoy.” she knew the manor like the back of her hand.

The library was one of her favorite room. The amount of books that decorated the shelves, it could honestly be a book store. (Y/N) walked the halls quietly not wanting Draco to get up and leave before she could ask why he left to suddenly. Once she reached the library she quickly closed the doors muttering “Colloportus.”

“Muffliato.” she mumbled watching as Draco stared at her with wide-eyes, “Incarcerous.” Draco watched as roped wrapped around his wrist, he tugged at them slightly watching as (Y/N) smirked in satisfaction. She wanted answers and if this is the only way she was going to get them so be it.

“Why did you leave Dray?”

Draco tugged at the restraints huffing slightly, “Didn’t you read the note?” (Y/N) glared at him “Of course I read the note! But seriously? Your mum’s birthday passed! And, you haven’t been answering any of my notes.”

“Relashio.”

He stalked over to (Y/N) wrapping his hand around her wrist, “You don’t get to come into my house and make demands, let alone integrate me!”

(Y/N) scoffed loudly, “Then just answer my question! Merlin Dray, you were always one with the dramatics. You always make things complicated!” Draco ran his fingers through his hair tugging at his roots. He paused, I make things complicated?

“I make things complicated? Wow (Y/N) very clever, at least I was not the one who said I love you.” Her head whipped towards Draco. What did he just say? She blinked a few times, processing what he just said.

“Come again?”

“We had something good going on (Y/N/N), I thought we agreed no feelings.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, “We never agreed to anything! All we did was hook up and went from their! You and I both know we’ve been beating around the bush. Avoiding the subject as to what we are. So maybe I do love you-”

He watched as she sat down, “I have loved you for the last seven years Draco. The night of the yule ball, that’s when I knew I loved you that’s when I knew I had feelings for you! But instead of telling you I pushed that feeling away afraid you wouldn’t feel the same way. Then we had this whole rendezvous which made me question what we are, but I want more! I want to be able to tell Pansy I don’t need to go on blind dates anymore, I don’t want to go into another relationship knowing I don’t truly love that person. So tell me now Draco, what is it that you want to do?”

Draco cupped her fast brushing the tears that had stained her cheeks, “I left because honestly, I was afraid, I still am. I don’t want to fuck up and treat you badly as my father did me. I have never been in a relationship before, nor did I know what love felt like. But when I’m with you I forget about all my worries. You’re my light (Y/N), you always have been. I love you too much to loose you.”

(Y/N) rested her forehead against his watching as he took both your hands into his peppering kisses over the back of your hand, “Please forgive me love, I’m so sorry.” she let go of his hands so she could wrap her arms around him instead burying her head into the crook of his neck.

“I forgive you Dray.” She pulled back to place a soft kiss onto his lips, wiping the tears from his pale cheeks. After seven years she finally admitted her true feelings for her best friend.

“Why don’t we ditch this dinner and I take you out on a proper date?” (Y/N) giggled nodding in approval, unlocking the library door the two walked hand in hand to the dining room noticing their parents were having a drink and chattering among themselves.

The two caught Narcissa’s attention first, she gasped loudly nearly dropping her glass as she brought her hand to her mouth “Is it finally happening?” (Y/N) watched as Draco tried to hide his blush, “Well not yet, but Draco asked me out on a date then, we’ll go from there.” Narcissa smiled widely “Go ahead! I’m sure we can turn this family dinner into a double date?” she looked between her husband and the Avery’s whom agreed. The two stood outside the manor, unsure of where to go next.

“So, does this mean you’re going to be a Malfoy?”

(Y/N) slapped his shoulder playfully, “If that’s your way of a proposal remind me to say no.”

The two were finally happy, after what they had gone through in the last five years? They deserved it, especially Draco.

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fic

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hazbbyhaz · 4 years ago

Text

sleepless || harry styles

twenty four

pairing: Harry Styles x OC

synopsis: the party cleanup

disclaimer: mentions of selfharm, mentions of scars

just remember that sometimes, the way you think about a person isn’t the way they actually are - John Green

At 3am the party had finally started to die down, people slowly funneling their way out. And by 3:30, All the guests were gone, leaving Avery, Harry, and Francis. Avery was on her fourth cup of coffee, the caffeine keeping her awake enough to not pass out on the couch. Everyone was sitting in the living room, strewn around the space. All of them winding down from the energy that the party created. It was silent. Serene. Comforting, in a way.

Harry was the first to move, starting to pick up the mess that swept the entire flat. Avery and Francis joined him soon after. They collected all the cups and plates that were scattered about, bringing all of them to the kitchen. Francis washed the dishes, Avery dried and put them away, and Harry made several trips around the apartment to collect all the trash.

Avery was lost in her own world, taking her time in drying the dishes and figuring out where they were kept. A tap on her shoulder had broken her from her trance. When she looked back, she saw Francis with a big soapy beard on his face. His jaw was completely covered in bubbles.

“How do I look, Avery?”

“Absolutely fabulous, if I do say so myself.” They were giggling like children, the sound echoing through the kitchen.

The laughter had Harry making his way to the source, and the sight in front of him had him laughing too. It was nice seeing Avery and Francis smiling and laughing. It was something that he hadn’t seen in a while, mainly from his friend. Maybe this party really was what he needed. Maybe this was a fresh start.

“Alright Old Saint Nick, let's get the kitchen cleaned up, after that we are finished till the morning.”

Harry chuckled, throwing a towel to Francis, and after he wiped his face clean, they continued. The rest of the dishes were washed and put away, the counters were wiped down, and the floors were swept. Avery had the cake she made in her hands, about to put it in the fridge, before she heard someone protest.

“Nope. You're not putting that masterpiece away until you try a piece.”

Francis hastily took it out of her hands, grabbed a paper plate, and cut a small slice out of the cake. He just about shoved it into her hands, not taking his eyes off of her until she took a bite. "It's very sugary," She said, grimacing as she swallows her first bite. "I think I need to cut down on that the next time"

"I think it’s great," Francis shrugs, getting a new fork to take a bite from her piece. "I mean, considering this is one of your first cakes, this is amazing."

"Thank you." After tasting the cake herself, Avery doubted that he was telling the truth. It was awful. "Harry, you try a bite" She holds the fork out to Harry and he doesn't even take the utensil from her, but eats it straight from the fork. The silly action instantly made her blush, All the heat rushing to her face and making it beet red. But the redness of her cheeks quickly vanishes as Harry loudly coughs, and nearly downs a whole glass of water after swallowing the small bite of cake.

"I'm sorry, Ave, but..." He takes a breath. "that is revolting. Francis, how are you just eating that?" Avery giggles, looking over at Francis, who has almost finished her piece.

"I can feel the cavities forming in my teeth..." He takes another sip off his water.

"I like it." Francis concludes with a shrug. "Anyways, Avery, are you staying here or should we take you home? I can play my charm and convince Mrs Sheffield to give us her car keys."

"It's 4am," Harry frowns.

“Trust me, she loves me!"

They keep bantering back and forth while Avery contemplates if she should stay or go. She had been with Harry for a majority of the weekend, rarely leaving his side. She didn’t want to overwhelm him. Didn’t want him to get tired of her presence or feel like she was clinging to him. "You can stay, Ave. It's no problem." Harry says, bringing her back into reality with his green eyes looking into her own.

"I don't want to bother you guys"

"You're not bothering anyone. Stay. I can walk you home after breakfast"

Her gaze moves over to Francis, who was putting the cake back into its container. She was looking for him to protest, for him to say that he didn’t want her there. But he didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, so she nods. "Alright, just til after breakfast."

Harry breaks into a smile and Francis puts the dessert in the fridge, slowly closing the door. "Great, now that this has been discussed, I am going to bed." Francis said goodnight to the two before vanishing in his bedroom. Avery noticed how Harry's eyes stayed fixed on his friends door for a moment.

"He likes you." Harry then says, turning back to her with a gleaming smile.

"I'm glad"

He walks over to her, leaning against the kitchen counter. "When do you go back to work?"

"Tomorrow."

"You're going to be tired."

"I'll be fine." She murmurs. In the dim kitchen light, Harry can see the three freckles on her nose, and the different shades of blue in her eyes. There had been numerous times where he’d thought about kissing Avery. More than he would like to admit. So many times where he wanted to sweep the loose strand of hair behind her ear, cup her cheek, and put his lips onto her own. He believed that, maybe, her pain would leave after he kissed her. He knew that it was stupid. That it was impossible. That something that mundane could ever fix the pain that she had felt.

So, out of all these times, he picked this one. He picked this time because he was tired. He picked this time because he still had some liquid courage coursing through his veins. He picked this time because she looked just… so unbearably sad. Even though he knew she had a great time that night, there was this underlying look to her. Even at her happiest, she always looked to be sad. Like she was in a great world of pain. Always.

He slowly leaned closer, his gaze fixed on hers. She didn't move away from him as their eyes met. "I don't think we should do that," Her breath is warm against his lips. "You'd regret it."

"I doubt that." His words are hushed, and if he leaned a bit closer, just the smallest bit, their lips would touch. Averys gaze switched between his eyes and his lips. She wants to be brave enough to close the gap. She does. But there is a small voice in her head telling her that it's wrong. That she will destroy everything that she has created if she moves forward with what's happening.

"You're so soft nobody knows how to take care of you".. "You know what you are? An ungrateful brat. That's all that you are, and that’s all you’ll ever be".

"You're pathetic, I can't deal with you anymore. No one can."

"I'm sorry but... I can't." She whispers and she doesn't have to tell him that's it because of her mind, her past, and everything that she continues to hide from him. He knows.

"I get it." Harry reassures her and instead of kissing her lips, he kisses her forehead.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” He leaned in again, pressing his lips to her forehead once more. This time letting them linger.

“It’s okay, Ave. It’s alright. You don't need to be sorry.”

So, instead of kissing, they watch Lost In Translation. Harry had fallen asleep shortly after, his head resting on her thigh, and Avery’s fingers gently carted through his soft, honey brown curls. Somewhen, the morning sun illuminated the living room. The early morning rays casting a golden shadow over the room. Bathing everything in what could only be described as eternal light.

Francis emerged from his bedroom soon after the sun rose, stopping for a short second to look at his friend. Harry was asleep on Avery's lap, his face cuddled into her stomach with her hand resting on his head. He looked so at peace, even youthful in his sleep. He was getting the rest that Francis knew he deserved. That he needed.

Seeing him and Avery together made Francis happy. He saw the way that they had interacted during the party. They were always together, never spending much time apart.

Francis made his way to the kitchen, getting himself a glass of water. He got a cup out of a cabinet, one that had been washed only hours ago, and filled it at the kitchen sink. not bothering with ice, it was too early for ice cold water. Once the cup was full, he turned off the tap and turned around. He jumped and nearly dropped his cup, startled to see Avery stood at the entrance of the small space.

“Jesus! You scared me.” Francis leaned against the counter, holding a hand up to his chest in an effort to slow his racing heart.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

They stood there in silence for a while. Avery eventually made her way into the kitchen, sitting atop of the counter closest to the entrance. Francis was looking out the small window they had in the kitchen, and Avery watched. He didn’t seem to be actively in the room. His mind was elsewhere. This was a different kind of silence. Not like the atmosphere that they had experienced after everyone had left hours ago. This one was darker, in a way.

Somehow, Avery knew. She just knew. She knew that he was troubled. Maybe it was the worry that Harry always had in his eyes when looking at his friend. Maybe it was the dread that showed in Harry’s face whenever he called. Or maybe it was her own personal experience. But, either way, she knew. She could see the scars that littered his arms, the ones he had tried so desperately to cover, and it made her angry. Did she have a real right to be angry? No. She didn’t truly know the boy that was standing in front of her, but she knew enough. She knew enough to know that he shouldn’t feel that kind of pain. From what she had seen, he was funny, caring, and he stood by his friends. He cared for his friends. She didn’t want anyone to know half of what she had been through, what she had felt. And she knew that he had.

“Francis?”

“Yes?”

“Just… thank you.”

He looked bewildered by her words, not knowing what they were for. “For what, Avery?”

“For earlier. Eric. You saw that he was bothering me and you told him off. I never got to thank you for it.”

“Oh… it was no problem. He was being a prick. He kept on advancing towards you when you told him no, and I won't stand by to see that.” He made his way to the kitchen sink, Avery not too far from him, and started to rinse out his empty glass. Avery watched as he did so, closing her eyes shortly after to let them rest for a minute.

“Avery?”

“Yes, Francis?”

“Can you promise me something?” He looked into her eyes, a serious glint inside of them.

“I guess so… what is it?”

“This probably isn’t my place, and I apologize if I offend you in any way. But, just… please stand up for yourself. Okay? There are loads of blokes like Eric, people who will take advantage of you because you are too nice, people who will disregard your rejection of their actions. You have to stand up for yourself. I would hate to see you get hurt because of something like that.”

She was taken aback by what he was saying. She didn’t know how to respond, at least not right now. So she simply nodded her head, casting her eyes downward.

“And thank you for the cake, I really appreciate it.”

“Of course. I'm glad.”

Avery’s apartment was a wreck. Various papers and notebooks littered every surface as she tried to find a good sample she could send over to Hughes Magazine. This was a real opportunity, one that needed to be taken seriously. She has the chance to be a published writer, to have something that she had written somewhere in the world for people to see. To say that this was nerve wracking was a major understatement. Avery was sitting in the middle of her living room looking like a mad woman, frantically flipping through notebooks in hopes of finding something that she deemed good enough.

After going through every piece of writing she had, she decided to submit two short stories and a handful of poems. She chose pieces that, she hopes, shows her diversity as a writer. Avery wanted this to be something, just once. She added her CV and all the other required information before attaching the poems and stories at the end of the e-mail, sending it off to their office in London before closing her laptop, pushing every bad thought aside.

As she began to pick up the mess she had made in the process, Avery's phone lit up showing her a message from Tom.

Tom: Hey, is there any chance you could come in early tomorrow? I've found a potential new employee and I would like you to show her around a bit.

Avery: Sure. How much earlier?

Tom: Thirty minutes early will be fine, just need a second opinion on her. She would be starting work soon, if she is decent at everything.

Avery: I'll be there.

Tom: Thank you, Avery :)

"What do you think about the editing?" Harry questions Francis, showing his laptop with the edited photo on the screen. He spent the whole Sunday in front of the computer, trying to finish editing the set his boss needed for an upcoming ad. His eyes were exhausted and his head ached from the hours he spent looking at the monitor screen.

"I like it," Francis says with a shrug, continuing to eat his Ben and Jerry's out of the paper container.

"I need constructive criticism, Frany. Saying you like it is not cutting it anymore." Harry groans, putting his head back to regain composure and stretch his sore neck.

"You know I'm devoted to the numbers.'" Francis replies with a sigh. "I can't give you constructive criticism when I don't understand it."

"It's art. Most of the time you don't have to understand it."

"Why are you not doing your black and white photography? I love it and I know you do too, I'm sure there are some people who would buy it."

"Those “some people” aren't going to pay rent," Harry closes the laptop, realizing Francis really wouldn't be much help here, and layed down on the sofa, his head atop the arm rest. "I wish I could just do that."

"I’d say do it. Do what makes you happy. That's what you always tell me, anyway."

"Yes, but you're different," Harry murmurs, his eyes closed and his forearm shielding them from the sunlight. "And what would I photograph? I don't go out anymore, I barely see James or Emily or Anais anymore. And God, I have a million photographs of you already."

"First of all, you make that sound like a bad thing." Francis replies, before eating another spoon of his ice cream. "Why don't you do a series on Avery?"

"She doesn't like being photographed."

“May I remind you that that's what you do? Take photographs without people noticing, so it's not staged."

"Yes I know, but-" Before Harry can finish his sentence Francis makes his way to Harry's room only to come out a minute later with a large black and white print. Harry remembered that day as if it were yesterday. It was Anais’s birthday party. Francis wasn't well that day so Harry had to take him to the party, he didn’t trust him enough to leave him home alone. He had spent the whole evening making rounds around the house, camera in tow, capturing every guest he could.

The photo in front of him showed Francis in an armchair in Anais’s living room. There was a half empty glass of champagne in his hand and a red balloon tied to his pinky, and at the first glance it almost looked comical. This sad boy with all the balloons, presents, and dancing people around him.

That same night, Harry had gotten absolutely wasted. So, when Francis told him that he wanted to go home, he didn't hold him back. He didn't look at him, not really, not like he should have. Once he had finally made his way back to their flat, he found Francis cutting himself on the bathroom floor and immediately sobered up. They didn't talk while Harry gently patched his friend up, doing so with so much care that it made Francis cry. And they didn't talk while Harry sent Francis to bed before he cleaned the bathroom, blaming himself for everything that had happened in the process.

Despite everything that came after, this was still one of his favorite photographs he had ever taken. The black and white didn't seem dramatic, but natural. He caught Francis without a mask, just Francis. It was safe to say that his best friend despised the whole thing, he didn't like it one bit and Harry was sure that if he hadn't stopped him, Francis would have ripped the print to shreds immediately.

"I really like that print..." Harry mumbles, eyeing the photograph that feels like it was taken so long ago. When he was still so naive and inexperienced, thinking he could just do this his whole life. "But I can't do it. I have to think about earning money, this dream won't take me anywhere."

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slytherinsnekxvii · 4 years ago

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okay, so, nobody asked, but i spend a lot of time thinking about severus' "gang" that sirius mentioned, the one with rosier and mulciber and avery, and here's how i think it probably could have happened:

first of all, rosier, mulciber and avery are likely rich, and these mfs are probably such purebred purebloods that they've got their fricking pedigrees stuck to their bedposts. they aren't gonna fuck with some scrawny, broke half-blood whose name they don't even recognise, especially when his one (1) singular friend is some muggleborn in gryffindor. so, yeah, they're definitely not touching that hot mess with a ten foot pole.

at least, not until lucius malfoy takes a shine to this practically feral kid, this skinny little chaos entity, who's apparently a wicked smart potions prodigy, and is getting into regular fights with james potter and sirius black. suddenly, the scrawny, broke half-blood whose mother was a prince, apparently, becomes very, very interesting. suddenly, these rich purebred purebloods are willing to make an exception.

they share a dorm, a common room and all of their classes, so they try to ensure there's overlap, and there is. not much, since snape is 110% focused on his little friend and spends as much time with her as possible, but just enough that they can trade homework answers and talk shit about the dada professor and not feel too uncomfortable in each other's space.

the girl drifts in and out of the picture in the coming years, and sometime during fourth year, rosier marks her down as a casualty of war while he secretly celebrates getting rid of her. she's been keeping her distance, especially since that one night where snape's bed was empty most of the night and he came back even more jumpy, twitchy and hypervigilant than ever, but wouldn't tell where he'd been. they keep an eye on him, after that, since there's only room for one exception, rosier says, mulciber backing him up, and that's him. snape looks up from his book, and wilkes is dismissing him before he's spoken. she's no different from any of the other little mudbloods, wilkes barks at him, with that look she has that accepts no arguments. snape goes to make his case, counts four glaring faces, hears lucius and narcissa in the back of his mind and cuts his losses. he goes back to his book.

the next year, when snape finds himself hanging upside down courtesy of his own spell at the end of james potter's wand, he calls her a mudblood and evans leaves for good. rosier leaves the classroom cursing mary macdonald's name for accusing him of cheating, and is in the corridor just in time to catch snape running up to gryffindor tower. mulciber and avery inform him that snape's gone to grovel at the feet of saint evans, wilkes lamenting that they'd taught him better than that, and that's when severus walks through the common and into the dorms, mechanical, and they know that that that's the end of that. none of them really understand why, but losing the girl seems to break something in severus. he seems to shut down right in front of them, not even bothering to elbow rosier out of his bed as he usually would when the other boy makes himself comfortable atop all of severus' research.

new spells remain unfinished, he refuses to brew, hardly eats, can barely sleep and the idleness all this causes makes him vacant and hyperaware all at once, not that he has the energy to do anything about it. rosier was glad to see the back of the evans girl, but something ugly in him twists seeing his friend like this. he asks wilkes what it means, and she tells him that severus is still a scrawny little no-name mudblood, but he's a scrawny little no-name mudblood who belongs to them, and that makes him theirs, and slytherins take care of their own. so, avery brings him food from the great hall, calls an elf when none of them can be bothered to go. mulciber drags him into the dusty old potions lab on the fourth floor every day, keeps him there until the gears in his brain start turning again and then drags him back to the dorms when curfew catches up to them. wilkes writes home and delivers dark arts tome after dark arts tome into severus's little research hub. evan volunteers as test subject and research partner for every spell, every potion severus could think of just then. they perfect liberacorpus first thing, and then sectumsempra and then vulnera sanentur when the bleeding won't stop. they do what they can before it's time to go home for the summer, and when they meet up again for lucius and narcissa's wedding, severus seems more person than ghost, looking only as haunted as he usually would after going home.

the next year and a half is spent making bad decisions and serving detentions. much research goes into what potion ingredients could be considered hallucinogenic, and time goes into turning them into forms that could result in a non-painful escape from the real world. somewhere along the line, severus starts smoking, rolling his own cigarettes. avery thinks about selling them. classes are optional, the whole lot of them only bothering to show up enough to make up the 75% attendance necessary to sit your NEWTs. potter and black jump him when they've got safe opportunities, and even when he's in the hospital wing with aches, pains and a detention waiting for him, it's still better than fifth year.

the newts are a breeze. potions, defence, arithmancy, ancient runes, charms, herbology, transfiguration. they graduate with flying colours, and to celebrate such an achievement, each of then receives a special invitation to malfoy manor, where a very important man, who promises protection and power and glory and a new world order will be in attendance.

and then, of course, so that it all fits neatly into canon, they all get their dark marks and move on with their lives. severus starts his mastery, likely funded by lucius and acquired by narcissa's connections. mulciber and avery shadow their fathers at the ministry while evan does as he pleases, enjoying the frivolities of life while giving his art the time and attention it deserves. wilkes probably gets into legal work of some kind. they do their thing and then shit goes down and evan and wilkes die, everyone else is arrested and severus goes to beg dumbledore to save lily's life and ends up turning into a spy and destroying himself all over again in the process.

but, yeah! that's my somewhat feasible explanation of how the little death eater gang ended up happening, and what serves as the foundation for a good few of my headcanons. honestly, i really just want an excuse to think about them being teenagers doing chaotic dumb teenager things without it being too out of left field/out of character (i say, as though we actually have a reliable amount of information about these characters).

#headcanon #slytherin #marauders' era #death eaters #severus snape #evan rosier #mulciber #avery (harry potter)#wilkes (harry potter)#lucius malfoy #narcissa malfoy

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rahleeyah · 3 years ago

Note

A common criticism of SVU of late has been this idea of “Saint Olivia” and how she seemingly can do no wrong and has a moral superiority that puts her above the law at times. What are your thoughts? Because off the top of my head it does seem like something we see a lot more of in 2.0 and I don’t think it’s actually a completely off the mark take.

This is a really interesting question.

2.0 for like a season or two there really focuses on Liv wrestling with the idea of the law vs her own concept of justice. They put impossible, Solomon and the baby type choices in front of her and force her to choose and pick apart why she did what she does and how it makes her feel and how it hurts her. They spend a lot of time on the humanity behind the choices, showing us that sometimes her hands are tied even when she wishes like hell they weren't.

I get a little bit defensive when I hear "Saint Olivia" as a pejorative; Liv is not perfect and the show doesn't want us to think she is. She struggles with decisions. Sometimes she chooses to uphold the law, sometimes she doesn't. I went into this a little bit in You Said I Killed You; she spirits Avery Jordan away but she won't let Alex hide Jules Hunter. But she isn't being self-righteous with Alex, and she isn't ignoring the fact that she's done this before; the cases are different, bc if she lets Jules go a man will sit in prison for a crime he didn't commit. Yes, he's a bad man and he does bad things afterwards but do we really want to support a cop character who lets a man be imprisoned on murder charges when she knows he didn't kill anyone, just bc she knows he's a bad dude? Do we want vigilante justice, really? Maybe we do but maybe we shouldn't, and maybe that's moralizing but that's a serious philosophical question that maybe we should grapple with. Who do we want our heroes to be, really?

Liv isn't perfect, but she has so much experience. Liv is a Captain now. She's taken the tests, she's aced them, she's faced every kind of criminal in every kind of case, she's seen it all play out in every possible way it could play out, and so that means when she's dealing with the younger squad members yeah she's gonna overrule them and she's gonna be right more often than she's wrong and it's not bc she's a Mary Sue and it's not bc she's self righteous it's bc she knows exactly what the fuck she's talking about. She has earned the right to make these judgement calls and be trusted with them.

#anonymous

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goose-books · 4 years ago

Photo

goose-books productions: a 2020 review

view the image in higher quality here! (open the image in a new tab to zoom in.) thank you to my dearest @yvesdot for the template

transcripts and month-by-month details under the cut! for reference, you can find my projects here :-) overall, new and old followers, thank you for another good year over here! [holds your hand] [holds your hand] [holds your hand] [holds your h

january

i spent late 2019-early 2020 working on 2019’s nano project, quark, aka the speculative fiction thing about new york city and prophets and dissections of the chosen one trope and gay people. quark is my second-oldest project (five years!), but it’s also probably the most ambitious, so it’s been... difficult to wrangle into place, and i didn’t end up finishing a first draft. oh, well.

enjoy a snippet that is devastatingly emblematic of everything about quark. the tone. the homoerotic tension. the ensemble cast all talking over each other. the fact that caelum has spent pretty much this entire scene crying. fun autopsy report meeting.

Marble stares at the notebook in Shade’s hands. Or maybe he’s staring at Shade’s hands. Dawn feels a little voyeuristic, so she does what she does and says a dumb and unrelated thing: “Augustus, I think this pizza-on-the-floor thing is hurting my ass.”

Augustus flutters his hands. “Sometimes nonconformity is painful.”

“At least we’re originals,” Caelum mumbles into his sleeve.

“Exactly,” Augustus says.

“True originality doesn’t exist,” Marble says.

“Oh,” Shade deadpans, “it’s going to be a fun autopsy report meeting.”

It isn’t.

february

in january i stressed myself out trying to make the plot of quark work. so in february, i decided to take some time and write something Entirely For Fun. like, entirely for fun, no rules. and. my god. how do i explain the project i started calling “third eye for the bad guy.”

it was an unholy mashup of many of my past hyperfixations, including the gone series, a tale of two cities, warrior cats, and the left hand of darkness. one of the characters was a canon scalie and one was a canon fictionkinnie. it centered around a polycule of wannabe-evil-overlord high schoolers. i only wrote like three chapters but i was lost in the sauce for all of february and then i just… like… wiped it from my mind and moved on? somehow??? one character was a werewolf and that literally wasn’t relevant at ALL

Someone was going to die on these steps.

This had been Ivy Lee Palomo’s thought last year during the all-school photo, and it rose in her mind again now. The one hundred marble stairs leading up to the great double doors of Saint Constantine Academy were the school’s pride and glory, steep as the mountain, sharp as the blade under Ivy Lee’s skirt. With the cutting wind and snow glazing the stone more often than not, with the freshmen wild and wired on their first day of their first year, it was really only a matter of time before someone slipped and cracked their fucking head open.

It wasn’t going to be her. Not when she had Doc Martens and reflexes like an electric coil. Still. Ivy Lee didn’t want to watch someone die. She didn’t get along with dead people.

march

in march, i got back to the project i’d started in 2019 - AMT, my podcast! it’s a shakespeare retelling set in a modern high school; this excerpt is funnier and also more unnerving in context. (double, double, toil and trouble...)

INDRAJIT: What the hell are you doing?

[PAUSE.]

DEE (like she’s lying): Making pasta.

[ALL THREE OF THEM LAUGH.]

NONA: That’s right.

MORA: We have the keys to Mab’s office.

DEE: We’re using her stove.

NONA: To make pasta.

DEE: Do you want some?

[A TENSE PAUSE.]

INDRAJIT: No.

april

and darkling rears its head! all of my other projects have existed for at least a year; darkling (specfic king lear retelling) is... special. it was conceived in april, when i started hyperfixating on king lear, and i still managed to write an absolutely ridiculous amount of content for it. it was like the power of hyperfixation let me speedrun the entire process. which. okay.

iv: control

They say Cressida Stayer was nine years old when she turned her hair to gold. They laid her down in bed blonde, and the next morning, the waves cascading down her shoulders were solid metal, glinting harshly in the sunlight, weighing her down, creating that odd head-cocked expression she still wears now. Nine years old. Two or three years before most people develop enough magic skills to dye a single curl. Much less transfigure their hair into precious metal.

People also say Leovald Stayer’s immediate reaction was to hack it off her head and melt it down for cash. But generally they say that part a lot quieter.

may

in may i wrote AMT episode 15, by which i mean that in may there was a day when i sat in my room with the door shut for literally five straight hours listening to the same three songs on loop as i wrote the climax of one of the plotlines of AMT. so. that sure was�� a day.

ISAAC: Do you want… do you want someone to drive you home? Hawk, you’re worrying me -

HAWK (almost cutting him off): Don’t. Don’t say that. I’m here to help. With your… thing.

ISAAC (quietly): I… don’t know if you should be here to see this.

HAWK (a little louder, more audibly upset): Well - what else am I going to do? Go home and - and have my dads talk at me and - and not be able to answer them? Because I can’t? I can’t. I don’t know what to say.

[PAUSE.]

ISAAC (V.O.): I wonder if this is what he feels like, on the outside, looking in at me. Watching someone else hurting. Helpless and afraid.

He still fits perfectly in my arms. I rest my chin on top of his head and pull him close to me, like I can stop him from shaking, like I can stop anything from happening the way I know it’s going to. I bury my face in his hair. He smells so familiar. He’s so warm.

God, Hawk. I love you so much. You shouldn’t be here to see this. Something bad’s gonna happen. And you’re not the kind of person who belongs in a tragedy.

june

okay, honestly, i should talk about “night shift” here, because in june i wrote a whole short story in one night (and then foamed over it for a week), but i am still in the process of submitting it places! so i am terrified to put even a sentence of it online. instead: the other thing i did this month was to finish AMT! (sixteen episodes and somewhere around 175k, iirc, but don’t quote me.) these lines are the opener to the final episode!

RAHMA (V.O.): The combined series of sophomore year disasters stretched through November. It’s June now. It’s taken me… a long time to get this all put together. I was going to make a vlog about it, initially - well, calling it a vlog sounds frivolous. I was going to make a video recounting the whole deal. All of it. From when I kissed Avery Fairchilde to the very last night. I scripted dozens of drafts; I put together dozens of bullet-pointed lists of what to cover… and it was never enough. Because Avery and I weren’t the only ones involved. Even if I was only focused on the two of us, it wasn’t just the two of us.

So… I gathered up everyone else. The whole town of Ellisburg is still talking about the week the town went crazy, but it wasn’t just a week. There was a lot leading up to it. And I think if anyone’s going to talk about it, it should be us. The people who lived it. So here we are. The most ambitious Rahma Ashiq production of all time - at least so far.

july

every july i pause whatever else i’m doing to celebrate the birthday of aurum & argentate, twins from my oldest and dearest WIP The Mortal Realm. july fifteenth! mark your calendars. they’re princes, though argentate would really rather not be; you can read the full birthday piece here.

“Do you… plan to get dressed?” A bit of the usual humor crept back into Aurum’s voice. “Although if you want to speak to the kingdom in your underthings, by all means, you have my full support.”

Argentate scrubbed at his face. He wasn’t dressed, no, but the usual malaise hung over his shoulders like a cloak. Guilt. Nerves. The sick sense that he hadn’t done something he was supposed to. The numb knowledge that it was too late to change a thing.

“I meant to,” he said. “Get dressed, I mean.” The rest went unsaid: I have just been sitting here. On the floor. Thinking about how I should get dressed.

“Ah,” Aurum said, extending his hand. “The traditional route. We’ll save the nude speeches for the future, then.”

Argentate took his hand, stumbling a little as Aurum pulled him to his feet. He steadied himself on the closest wall, taking a few deep breaths. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. His hands found their way to the cross, again and again.

august

this summer, i wrote an entire draft of Valentine Van Velt is Dead, AKA “holden caulfield goes to exposure therapy,” AKA the weird little personal side project i keep tucked into my coat. interesting features include second-person narration from a narrator who doesn’t like the main character all that much. so reading it is kind of like the book wants to kill you? with an added dash of general melancholy.

You used to live here. That’s the thing that’s got you feeling so off.

You didn’t recognize your old house. I mean, you kind of did. You remembered that the road was on a hill. That hill felt like a goddamn forty-five degree angle when you were a kid. But if you didn’t have the address written down you wouldn’t have known it at all. It would have been just another little suburban house in rows of perfect little towns that make your skin crawl.

So now you’re in this diner looking out a gross smudgy window trying to block out the elevator music pumping through the speakers in the ceiling or whatever. I don’t know how speakers work. You’re trying to tune that shit out. The waitress comes over and catches you by surprise so you just point at some coffee thing on the menu so she’ll go away. For the record: you don’t drink coffee.

There’s a public library across the street. A little square building. You probably used to go there. The lady comes over and thunks your coffee on the table and gives you a kind of look, like she wants to know what in the goddamn hell you think you’re doing here and not at school. You sip your coffee and look out the window until she leaves you alone again. And then you spit it back into the cup because, for the record: you don’t drink coffee.

september

i spent september and october prepping for nano, so i was mostly working on darkling...

It’s late spring; still, at this time of night, on a rooftop, there’s a chill. The wind plays with the end of Ruby’s coat, with her hair. She hands the bottle off to Jasper, stares up at the fogged-over sky, wishes she were lying in Dany’s arms in Dany’s bed instead of here. Wishes, even, that Dany were the one on the roof with her. At least then they’d be cold together. At least then she wouldn’t have to imagine what Dany would say; she could just listen, and watch Dany’s flashing smile and her flinty eyes.

(She cuddles. This is another thing Dany does that Dany probably shouldn’t do, based on everything about Dany; it’s not like rattlesnakes cuddle. But Dany likes to nuzzle into Ruby’s side and rest her head on Ruby’s collarbones and toss an arm over Ruby’s chest, and hold her down like she’s worried she’ll float off somewhere. She’ll card her fingers through Ruby’s hair and hum. Even though they could get caught, even though she’s probably got better places to be - Dany cuddles.)

Ruby imagines it, momentarily, both of them on the roof together, sprawled like horrifyingly beautiful gargoyles, sharp teeth flashing, blood running hot. Up here - it’d be like they ruled the world.

But whatever. Jasper’s fun. He’s hot. He’s got a sharp tongue in a lot more ways than one. And she likes when he lets the mask down. She likes seeing the soft bits underneath. She wants to sink her teeth and nails into them so hard she draws blood. Masks don’t bleed. Ruby would know; that’s why she is what she is.

october

...though i was also in creative writing class in school, and thus ended up writing a bunch of poems of varying quality (my teacher had a real thing for poetry) and also one darklingverse short story where rory and cressida hold hands! which you can find here.

Lorelai Rory Flowers is afraid of thunder.

This is a bit of an embarrassing thing to admit, as they’re seventeen (“at least seventeen,” they like to tell people, “maybe two hundred, who’s to say?”) and generally wise beyond their years, or whatever it is that adults say about kids with too much psychological baggage. Being afraid of thunder is not a very wise-beyond-one’s-years trait. And yet the state of affairs remains: loud noises make Rory want to melt into the earth. Back when they still went to school, even the fire alarm sent them scuttling under their desk to hide.

Right now, in the elevator, all they can do is shrink into their sweater.

They haven’t let go of Cressida’s hand yet.

november

and then november of course was nano which was an adventure all the way through. (opening tumblr on the fifth day of nano to find out about d*stiel... was something.)

“Apologize to me. Or get out of my house.”

Gracen’s voice is very, very low. For a moment she thinks he hasn’t heard her at all. Then he spins, eyes blazing. “What did you say?”

Gracen watches her own chest heave. She pushes herself up off the desk, stands with the effort of pushing a mountain off of her back. Leovald is six-foot-four. Gracen is six-foot-two. In her heels, in the heels she must wear to be a professional woman, to be a lady - they are the same height.

Gracen wipes her nose. When she lowers her arm, there’s a streak of blood across the back of her hand. Fire shivers in her chest; her heart rings in her ears; her voice could cut steel.

“I said,” she says, low, slow, volume building, “apologize to me. Or get. Out. Of. My. House.”

december

and finally, the poem i posted this year! it’s called the beast sonnet, and you can find it in its own post over here (with commentary! how sexy.)

i kill the beast and drop down to my knees, my blade stained dark with blood of stygian hue, and for a moment these scarred hands shake free, and hold a world unfurled for me anew. but once-mourned victims, victors, vices find; fear winged me; now its absence strips me bare. my sword now dulls, my legs, my voice, my mind; the beast, pried from my throat, leaves no skill there. and still i hear it laugh, O DEVOTEE— O CHILD DEAR, NO GLORY WITHOUT ME.

i was quite productive this year; i have to think it was because i was avoiding things... the peak of my productivity happened over the summer and in november, AKA, college app hell. (almost done with the last applications! pray for me.)

a general breakdown of what occupied me this year:

(no, i don’t know why the “various other things” category ended up so large... i blame all the one-off projects i wrote a single page for, and also whatever the fuck happened in february. yes, i do know why it looks hideous; it’s because each of my WIPs has a theme color

thank you once again for spending some time at goose-books dot gov this year! what to expect for next year: well, i very much hope i can produce AMT... also hoping to get darkling ready for beta readers, so keep your eyes out!

#max.txt #and that's a wrap!!! what a goddamn year.#okay. breath in. tags:#quark tag #third eye tag #(i think there are like. two posts in that one?)#amt tag #darkling tag #tmr tag #vvvid tag #wow that was a lot of text. if you read all this... [blows you a kiss] thank you!#max actually writes #year in review

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banditoxkenshin · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter Two- Rekindle

15 years. It was 15 years after the death of their brother. Camila had accompanied Nathan on his adventures, but she also stood with Rafe and helped him grow his business. She noticed how hungry Rafe was for Henry Avery’s treasure, and she didn’t blame him. He’d had everything handed to him on a silver platter. The only thing he had earned was his marriage with Camila.

Rafe had hired a company called Shoreline that was led by Nadine Ross. The only reason she was nice to Camila was because she was Rafe’s wife. The two had traveled to Scotland to search for the treasure around Saint Dismas Cathedral. It was cold and snowy, but that didn’t stop Camila from taking walks around the property. She was standing on a cliffside overlooking the water as she whale watched. She smiled happily as she pulled Rafe’s jacket closer to her body.

Two arms wrapped her around her waist as Rafe placed soft kisses on her jawline and neck. Camila giggled and looked over at her husband, who looked up at her with big puppy dog eyes.

“It’s cold. Why are you out here?” He asked her.

“I’m whale watching. There’s a pod of Humpback whales here.”

Rafe pressed a soft kiss to her lips as she kissed him back, her fingers entangling themselves in his hair. He pulled away, staying close to her face.

“Be careful. I don’t need a gust of wind blowing you into the ocean.”

“I’ll be careful.” She then paused. “How’s the demolition going?”

Rafe scowled as his hands rested on her hips. “They use so much dynamite. They're gonna blow the whole place up.”

“I know.” Camila sighed, placing her hands on his chest.

He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before whispering. “You know those two are coming for the treasure.”

“You’re not going to force me to pick a side, are you?”

“Of course not. I know how much your brothers mean to you.” He paused. It was true. He’d never ask his wife to choose between her brothers and him. He’d still love her either way. “But Nadine and her men might think differently... and I don’t want you being a target.”

Camila nodded as her fingers played with his hair as he looked down at her lovingly. He smiled as he pulled her closer to his chest. She nuzzled her head against his shirt and closed her eyes, letting his scent fill her nostrils and soothing her.

“Come on. Let’s get warmed up in the cathedral.”

Camila followed after Rafe as he grabbed her hand, looking over his shoulder at her. They walked into the cathedral where Nadine stood, waiting for them.

“You two done making out?” Nadine asked, a scowl on her face.

Camila ignored the question as she leaned against the stone wall, listening to the two of them speak to each other. She glanced over at the crack in the wall and made out the face of her brother Samuel. She looked over at her husband and Nadine before subtly looking at her brothers, and she rubbed her nose with her finger, the signal that they were in danger. The three had signals for just about everything, especially since the three of them usually ran into trouble where they couldn’t speak above a whisper.

“How do you know she won't turn on us?” Nadine asked.

“You know she has a name right?” Camila retorted, raising an eyebrow.

“Just because you have his last name, doesn’t mean you’re still not a Drake.”

Camila pushed off the wall and took a small step forward. “You have a lot of hatred towards my brothers and I when you haven't even walked a day in our shoes.”

Nadine walked towards Camila, getting close to her face. “I don’t need to.”

Camila gave the signature Drake smirk as she shook her head. “Maybe you should. Because you obviously haven’t been starving or on the brink of death because you were considered a thief everywhere you went.”

Nadine growled and went to throw a punch, but Camila dodged it and pinned Nadine against the wall.

“Now, here’s how this works.” Camila hummed. “We hired you. Which means we’re funding your business. I don’t care what hatred you have harbored for me and my brothers. You have a job. Do it.”

Camila let go of Nadine as she watched the woman with a cold stare. Samuel was only used to seeing the sweet side of his sister, not this side. Nate, however, had watched her kill people in cold blood. Nadine walked out of the building as Rafe raised an eyebrow before turning to her.

“You okay?” He asked Camila.

“Yeah... Sam and Nate are a sensitive topic.”

Rafe smiled and nodded. “I know. Come on now, help me with a plan.”

Camila walked over to him and began looking at the map. She furrowed her brow. “What’s over here?” She asked, pointing to the far right, not knowing that was where her brothers were heading.

“This is why I love you.” Rafe kissed her on the lips before pulling away. “I’ll send soldiers that way.”

Camila nodded and watched as Rafe exited the building. She then knelt down by the crack and saw Sam staring at her.

“Hey Big Brother.” Cami whispered.

“Hey Little Sis. Too bad you sent troops right where we’re heading.”

“Sorry... I can’t really call them off because it would seem suspicious.”

Samuel smiled at Camila and shook his head. “Look at how beautiful you are.”

“Well someone has to be the pretty one.” She teased, which caused both men to laugh.

Camila carefully reached her fingers through the crack, and Samuel gently touched her hand.

“I missed you, Sam.”

“I know... I missed you too.”

He pressed a soft kiss to her hand, and Camila pulled her hand away.

“Now, go get that treasure.”

And with that, Camila ran after her husband, leaving the two brothers down underneath the cathedral.

CHAPTER THREE

Tags:

#uncharted #nathandrake #samuel drake #rafe adler #playstation #treasure hunter #action #oc insert #oc and canon ship #fanfic #imagine #elena fisher

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walkerismychoice · 5 years ago

Text

Unwritten (Raleigh X MC AU) - Chapter 1

Book: Platinum

Pairing: M!Raleigh X MC

Rating: This series will contain mature themes. Any necessary warnings will be listed before each chapter, but the overall series rating is 18+

Note: So I've been trying to come out of my unofficial writing hiatus for quite some time. Leave it to @choicesarehard having a birthday to get me to jump right back in with a whole series. This is an AU, and although some of the story follows along with parts of the book, there are major deviations as well. If anyone wishes to be tagged in future chapters, please let me know.

Word Count: 1369

Happy Birthday (belated) birthday @choicesarehard!

Master List

"Ms. Campbell?"

"Huh?" Aria snaps out of her meditative trance. It feels as if she' been waiting for hours, but she's been too nervous to keep track of the time. "I mean, yes, that's me."

The young but already hardened looking executive assistant seems unimpressed as she gives Aria the once over, lips pressed in a thin line. "Mr. Knight will see you now."

Aria self-consciously smooths her pencil skirt and tugs at her thrift store blazer. What is she doing here trying to pretend she belongs amongst this designer-clad crowd? Just days ago she was working in a smoothie shop, and now she's meeting with Ellis Knight, owner of Overnight Records and probably the biggest name in the business. She hesitates, telling herself this is the last chance to turn around and run back out the door, but finds the courage to move forward following the assistant through Ellis's office door.

Aria had always dreamed of a career in music. With her parents both being music teachers, her musical talent and interest have come naturally. As much as they had encouraged her to follow in their footsteps and go the practical route, it wasn’t her dream. Singing and songwriting have always been her passion. However after multiple rejections and being stuck working a mall job, she’d been beginning to think her parents were right when fate stepped up to the smoothie shop counter in the form of pop-star Avery Wilshire. Too stunned to speak, she’d been mortified when her coworker and best friend Shane gushed about Avery being Aria’s musical idol and slipped him a piece of paper with the link to her YouTube channel. The only way it could have been worse would have been if she’d been wearing the store’s banana costume. She’d gone to bed replaying the embarrassing exchange over and over in her head, but it had been all but forgotten when she woke up to her notifications blowing up after Avery followed her on Instagram and shared one of her music videos. Several phone calls and one week later, and now she’s here in Ellis Knight’s office surrounded by important-looking people, wondering if this could be the start of something big.

“Ms. Campbell,” Ellis begins as he shakes her hand and they all sit down. He’s even better looking in person than in pictures with his perfect, bright white, probably veneered teeth and neatly coiffed, dark silver-gray hair, making him all the more intimidating, even if he is old enough to be her father. “I’ll cut right to the chase. I’ve listened to your demos and you have a raw talent; that’s undeniable.”

“Thank you, Mr Eliis,” Aria blushes.

“...But, I don’t see us being able to sell you as a mainstream artist.”

Aria’s heart sinks to her stomach and she’s wondering why he brought her here just for another rejection. ”Okay, well thank-”

“Wait, let me finish,” Ellis insists. “I meant yet. You do have potential, and that’s why you’re here. But like I said, your talent is raw and you need time to develop, and time is money in the music industry. While you aren’t ready to make it on your own yet, paired with the right artist, you could have hits on the radio in no time.”

“So what are you saying? You want someone else to sing my songs?”

“Not exactly. We have an artist that’s struggling, in more ways than one, to finish out the last album in his contract.”

“You can’t be serious!” A petite woman with a sleek black bob and striking blue eyes interjects. “Her style is all wrong for him.”

“Fiona...” Ellis warns.

She shoots Aria a mildly apologetic glance. “No offense.”

Once he says her name, it sparks her memory, It’s Fiona Syed, manager of Avery Wilshire among other big names. Aria tries to play it cool. “None taken...I guess. I’m not even sure who we are talking about.”

Ellis clears his throat. “Unfortunately due to the need for discretion, you won’t know who this artist is until after the contract is signed. Like Fiona said, your style does not quite mesh with this artist, but there are elements there. As mentioned, we can’t use any of your current songs for him, but together, I think you could create something with real mass appeal.”

None of this makes sense. Why all the secrecy, and why her? Aria has so many questions. "What are the terms of the contract?”

----

On the way to the beach house, it all seems so surreal. Aria has agreed to spend the summer holed up with an unknown artist in an undisclosed location writing songs. At least Fiona, now also her manager, will be there. Wow, just even thinking about having her own manager feels so weird. Despite their rocky start, Fiona has been polite and professional, if not exactly warm towards Aria. Her chest flutters as they approach the light blue, cape cod style home on a secluded area stretch of Atlantic beachfront. Knowing that Fiona is also Avery’s manager has Aria both excited and terrified that he could be the mystery artist.

Aria steps out of the car just as a black Escalade with dark tinted windows approaches.

Fiona holds out her hand. “Give me your phone.” Picking up on Aria’s confused expression, she elaborates. “Remember the contract? We can’t risk anyone finding out about the location or who’s here. Streams of fan-girls traipsing along the beach trying to get pictures will not bode well for productivity.”

“Yes, that’s right.” It’s a little annoying because it’s not like Aria would break the contract even if she had access to her phone, and she’s most definitely going to feel like an appendage is missing the first couple days, but she gets it. She knows from her days in the Avery Wilshire fandom on Tumblr just how crafty those fan-girls can be. They can give the CIA and FBI a run for their money. Even one non-descript photo could lead to their location being found out.

Aria has little time to grieve the loss of her phone before the Escalade stops and the back door opens up. She reflexively stops breathing as the figure emerges and has to make a conscious effort to pick her jaw up off the floor. It's not the sandy blond, squeaky clean, heartthrob she was expecting. Quite the opposite, in fact. Raleigh Carerra, the tattooed, dark, smoldering-eyed, hotel room-destroying, Puerto-Rican boyband member turned solo R&B artist, has an image that’s far from wholesome. Not that she’s a puritan saint herself, but she now see’s why Fiona had objected to Aria writing with him. What could they possibly have in common, musically or otherwise?

“There’s no fucking signal out here.” Raleigh holds his phone up, seemingly searching for service.

Fiona reaches up on her tiptoes and snatches the phone out of his hand. “Good thing you won’t be needing one anyway.”

"Hey, give that back. I need to let everyone know where the party is tonight since nobody would tell me the address before we got here." Raleigh reaches for his phone just as Fiona tosses it to the Escalade driver, an imposing figure in a navy suit and dark sunglasses.

"Hank...C'mon man," Raleigh pleads.

Hank slips the phone in his suit pocket and crosses his arms across his chest, face fixed in a stone-like expression.

"Fine, but we'll be discussing this later. Where are the guys? How am I supposed to write without my team?"

Fiona rolls her eyes. "Seeing as you've been working with them for months and all you have to show for it is a lot of late night partying and charges for property damage, we figured a new approach was needed. Meet your new writing partner, Aria Campbell.

Aria smiles sheepishly as Raleigh seems to notice her for the first time. He smirks ever so slightly, before his lips turn downward and his eyes narrow.

"What, am I supposed to write a fucking Kidz Bop album or something now? I'm sure you're lovely, sweetheart, but this isn't going to work. Hank, take me back home." Raleigh gets into the back seat of his car and slams the door shut.

#playchoices fanfic #platinum #raleigh x mc #raleigh carrera #my fic

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whataplottwistyouwere · 5 years ago

Text

My answer to @ottogatto

We have. Every right. To dislike a character. And like another. Especially if they are very different. No matter if it bothers you.

Okay first of all, of course I have no right to tell you what you should say or what you should think.

What I meant was you say Snape is a grey character and you said he bullied, yes. But you forgave him. And yet you can’t forgive James Potter. Who bullied Snape,yes. But who became an amazing person. He was whiter than Snape.

Theres one thing I still can’t understand. HOW CAN YOU JUSTIFY SNAPES BULLYING AND NOT JAMES’S. Of course you can hate James, but you can’t hate him for his bullying; because yourself, is supporting a bully. Which means you have unreasonable hatred AGANIST James.

And of course you can have it. It’s your life and you can do whatever you want. But you have to UNDERSTAND THAT HE WAS A BULLY TOO.

And as much as you have the right to hate James I have the right to hate Snape. And I know you are aware of it.

I understand people liking Snape, but there’s two things I can’t stand. People hating James and people shipping Snily🤮🤮🤮. Im fully aware that everyone can have their opinions. But when i posted a funny post about “Albus S**erus”’s name IN MY OWN BLOG people attacked me.

I didn’t ever blame James for protecting his friends -- I literally said that was “Good” or “Great”. I literally said that the fact he joined the Order was good. I didn’t forget it. I pointed out his flaws just like you exclusively did on Snape’s part.

Yes, but no one wants to read James’s good traits and when they do; they say “good” “great”. The thing you say “good” and “great” to is him risking his own life for the wizarding world. I think he deserves more than “good”

And everyone is so focused on what James did as a 15 year old, a teenager; no one wants to see him as an adult. I’m so sad for James. Can you imagine it? You Do your best for your family and for the wizarding world and get hated because you bUlLiEd a death eater. I’m sure you all went to Highschool. Is every snape’s Fans are saints? No. Did you do nothing bad?!

Snape did everything I talked about as an adult. But Snape Fans ARENT over what a 15 year old boy did! So I’ll discuss that for hours.

There is no evidence that Snape killed people, you made it up (unless you count how he led Lily and James to their deaths, despite his efforts to prevent this). In fact, his position as a spy clearly states that he wasn’t on the battlefield slaughtering people. On the contrary, Voldemort sent him to try and have him as a spy teacher, which means that Snape couldn’t be known to kill people in the meantime. We have further evidence: Bellatrix does blame Snape for “always slithering out of action” as a spy, which point out that as a double-agent (and later as Dumbledore’s spy), he tried not to kill people. On the other hand I could say that James could have killed people. Why not? If McGonagall says “we fight to kill” and if James hate those Death Eaters so much he could have killed the people of the other side.

You said Snape probably didn’t kill anyone because he was a spy. You are wrong. Snape became a spy after Lily died. So in the First Wizarding War, he wasn’t a spy. He was a death eater on the field. Also Bellatrix Blamed Snape on HBP, which is the Second Wizarding War. I never said snape killed people in the 2.WW. I said in the the First wizarding war.

James was an auror. Of course he killed people. He killed Death Eaters. ITS NOT A BAD THING LMAOOOOOO. Every auror killed Death Eaters. Dumbledore,McGonagall,Sirius,Remus, and literally everyone who fought for the right side

The level of Fred and George’s hexing -- even though I don’t like how they burned a hold through Ron’s tongue, imprisoned Montague in a limbo, and killed an animal for fun -- doesn’t reach at all the level of bullying James and the Marauders perpetrated. In fact, Harry thinks, in OotP, that even Fred and George wouldn’t do what they did.

Ohh, you don’t like Fred and George too. To be honest , I’m just repeating myself at this point. If you don’t like Fred and george, how can I expect you to like James.

WE CALL IT PRANKS. OF COURSE I DONT SUPPORT ALL OF FRED&GEORGES ACTIONS NOR MARAUDERS’s ACTIONS. But you hate them for their pranks (yeah, I’ll say pranks because what they did to Snape was mutual. “Snape Never missed a time to hex James” THIS IS CANON. Yes, he might not have tried to curse James after that exam. BUT IT DOESNT MEAN HE NEVER DID!!! BUT YES BLAME AN AMAZING MAN WHO FOUGHT FOR THE RIGHT SIDE, FOR ONE FRICKIN MEMORY. This whole story is one sided because we only saw James bully not Snape)

He used Dark Magic as self-defense in SWM -- the Marauders chocked him, tormented him, sent him to his death, sexually assaulted him. Dark Magic could have been punished by the professors. Doesn’t excuse the Marauders for bullying. Whether. Or not. They use Dark Magic. What’s the point of repeating myself though if you don’t want to understand my points in my previous answer?

Okay don’t trying to be rude, but aren’t you a little bit dramatic here. “Chocked him, tormented him,.....” LMAOOO. Im sorry but you cant prove that they s*xualy assualted him because it was never said that they removed his underwear or not. Also dark magic SHOULDNT be considered. YES YOU HAVE TO STICK UP FOR YOURSELF BUT DARK MAGIC ISNT THE ANSWER. And if you think, using dark magic is acceptable; I don’t think I can change your mind

Also in the Werewolf Incident, it’s %100 Sirius’s fault. I will not defend him. But I’m sure he didn’t want him to die. But James risked his life for Snape. Also you said “why Snape would ask forgiveness for his bully [to Voldemort]” Because when you are a nice person, you don’t care whether you like this person or not. You don’t want anyone to die. Even if that’s your biggest enemy. Don’t I have people who I hate? yes. But I would never want their death. And so didn’t James, so he saved Snape’s life’s . But sure , ignore this too.

Snape said that what Mulciber/Avery/other Slytherins did to Mary (and we don’t know what that was) is a joke -- he uses the same excuse as the Marauders in front of Lily, who bites the bait. This allows him to point out to Lily that they are no different. I do wish not to repeat myself about how Hermione mutilated someone’s face and gets out with it, though it could have been Dark Magic as well, seeing how it can’t get off and how serious this is (doesn’t mean I hate her -- I actually like Hermione).

I don’t love Hermione, and I don’t know if it’s dark magic or not; so I don’t think I can argue about that. But however, I want to point something out. Snape said “it was a joke” to Dark Magic while Marauders used prank spells

See the difference ?

Okay so, you can’t stand James bullying and I can’t stand Snape bullying. But they were teenagers, weren’t they? Okay. I’ll hypothetically forgive Snape for what he did as a teenager and you’ll hypothetically forgive James for what he did as a teenager

All of the reasons you hate James is from his teenager hood (?). You are hating a 15 year old CHILD. Okay. Let’s skip to the adult part. Who was a death eater as an adult and who was a member of the OOTP as an adult. Every Snape fan loves Lily. And lily loves James. Do you think James gave Lily drugs and made her fall in love LMAOOOOO. In the end of the day LILY CHOOSE JAMES. Lily is no one’s property and she doesn’t belong with Snape. She’s her own person and she choose James. If James is that horrible person you keep talking about how do Lily love him? How do McGonagall and all of the teachers love him. I was trying to stay calm when I wrote 728281 essays. But I keep repeating the same thing because no one reads them and they just reply from their deliusuonal world. I was on my phone all day, and I did nothing else. Of course, no one is forcing me and I love debating. But my essays don’t change anything at all!! I feel like I wrote them for nothing and I keep repeating it.

It isn’t confirmed that if Lily’s son hadn’t been threatened then Snape wouldn’t have changed sides. You made it up. Because guess what? I can still say he would have changed sides because he was growing disgusted by Voldemort’s actions, or because he couldn’t bear knowing that Lily was undergoing too much danger. And what if he wouldn’t have changed sides? Doesn’t matter, because he did it in the end, which doesn’t make it less brave. There are a bunch of heroes who wouldn’t have lifted a finger for the right cause hadn’t their loved ones been threatened (Katniss, Eren, etc) and yet does it make them less heroic? No because you don’t only judge someone by their initial motive -- but by their actions. Snape was the reason many were saved -- including Harry, Hermione and Neville, mind you. Which would make me repeat again my earlier poin

Yes it is confirmed. This question was asked to JKR in 2007(I’m sorry I’m not sure about the year) JKR wasn’t a bad person back then, and the books/movies were JUST released. Someone asked “would snape change sides if Lily wasn’t in danger” and she answered “no. he probably wouldn’t, I don’t think so” which is another proof that, snape changed sides because of his own selfish reasons.

And you are wrong about the hero thing. If lily wasn’t in danger, snape would contiune being a death eater and kill innocent people. Of course Katniss wouldn’t volunteer if her loved ones weren’t in danger. But even if Katniss didn’t volunteer. She was a nice person. Even before she volunteered she was a hero who tried to help people. The problem I have is if lily wasn’t in danger snape would kill innocent people. If Prim wasn’t in danger would Katniss kill innocent people? no. She would’ve continued living. That’s the difference.

Also as I said before I have an amazing discussion why Snape isn’t brave. Please read that because I’m so tired of repeating myself. My problem isn’t with Snape. My problem is him being overrated and him being “the bravest man” but he actually isn’t

I’ve already proven to you that bullying is always one-sided (especially 4-on-1 bullying) and that Snape “didn’t bully James back” but was actually trying to mind his own business -- that what Sirius says is what bullies typically say to blame the victim and thus sees his words put into question.

As many Snape Fans you are making excuses and the excuse here is “Sirius’s POV is biased”.

But what if it’s not. You can’t hate someone because of the possibility of Sirius having a biased POV. It’s only a possibility.

And you know what else is a possibility. Snape’s POV might be biased too. What if he’s overreacting. It’s his own memory. We cant be sure it’s %100 true.

Yet I act and answer like it’s %100 true because we have no proof that says otherwise. Same with Sirius, you have to act like it’s canon.

Also if James didn’t change why would Lily marry him. You can’t say Lily’s mind was biased, can you? LMAOOO

Indeed he bullied Neville and Harry. Wow. Big news of the Earth. But do rest assured that Snape, if given the choice, wouldn’t have stayed a teacher. He was a spy, not a teacher. He was an adult, and what do the other adults in HP? Molly tells her children to respectfully call him “Professor Snape”, Lupin says that Snape was right in some points, McGonagall stays friends with him, the other professors seem to quite like him, Dumbledore let him be harsh/bullying. Well I mean, when McGonagall uses death threats as punishment and shames Neville, when Trelawney shoves a book in Neville’s belly in rage, when Flitwick shrieks at his students and throws Trevor at the other side of the classroom -- because if you hadn’t read it, Neville was said not to be coddled in other courses as well -- when at least half of the teachers in Hogwarts should go have a check with an organization that tells them how to behave, I’m not going to blame Snape only. Personally I would have left the school the moment I knew the professors and Dumbledore allowed extreme bullying to occur, left barely punished.

Oh poor Snape. Did he do a job he hated!!! HOW CAN YOU USE THIS AS AN EXCUSE. HE BULLIED CHILDREN. THE CHILDREN HE WAS RESPONSIBLE OF. AND HIM NOT WANTING JOB IS AN EXCUSE!!!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME. This is absolutely no excuse. None of us do what we want to , but you can’t take your anger or your hatred from innocent children

I explained to you the Boggart. It’s up to you to listen or no.

Of course I listened to you, but I don’t think it has explanation nor an excuse. What he did was unforgivable and unjustifiable

Snape changed and I have given you the evidence. That he didn’t act nice -- even that I would partially explain as being his play as a deep cover double agent. What would Voldemort do if he learned that he coddled Neville? And really, he mostly wanted Neville to try and once succeed at following recipes, not making the potion explode or melt the cauldron along with his feet. Did he go out of his way to track Harry and Neville down to assign them detention? Did he mock Neville for being the child of vegetative parents? Clearly you haven’t seen the worst.

Clearly I haven’t seen the worst!!! Excuse me!! He humiliated him in front of Slytherins which ended up him getting bullied. He ruined his self esteem and he wasn’t able to do anything. He already had a hard childhood and he made him feel like a piece of sh** PLEASE DONT TRY TO MAKE AN EXCUSE. SNAPE FU**ED UP NEVILLES CHILDHOOD AND HIS MENTAL HEALTH. DO YOU THINK ITS OKAY. “It IsNt ThE WoRsT” I THOUGHT THIS TOPIC WAS OFF DEBATABLE. BULLYING A CHILD YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE OF ISNT OKAY.

I mean, Snape did become a young adult and tried to cope with what he lived. Wanna know how? He came to think that emotions were weaknesses (indeed it could cost his life), that discipline was essential, that rule-breaking was intolerable, and that you must be rigorous in your work. That those who “hold their hearts on their sleeves” are foolish and weak. Ah yes, that happens when you lived the last 22 years in the very place in which you were bullied, without access to any psychological help.

To be honest I don’t know why I’m discussing this with you, if you have this moral!!! HARD DISCIPLINE WAS NECESSARY!!!! THIS ISNT HARD DISCIPLINE THIS IS BULLYING. ACCEPT IT.

Still - I understand if you don’t like Snape for his bullying attitude. What I don’t agree with, on the other hand, is how you claim that Snape’s Patronus was a sign of obsession. I wonder what that makes Tonks then, whose Patronus changed as well? Or Harry having his father’s Patronus (oof)? Besides assuming that Snape’s Patronus changed at all -- you say that true love isn’t obsession. Guess what? Patronuses represent true love. Snape wasn’t obsessed, but James showed obsessive misogynistic behavior against Lily -- I proved it twice. If you’re going to tell me that characters can’t have Patronuses of the other sex and that Patronuses of different sexes (male/female) are the true sign of love while Patronuses of the same gender equals obsession then I’m going to call you homo/queerphobic. Yeah, have you thought about what those later assumptions meant?

If you want to I can discuss why James and Lily are soulmates. Why Jily is superior and why Snily is even disgusting to think.

Snape didn’t ruin Harry’s childhood. Voldemort did. If not for Snape Harry would have had no childhood. Especially when you know that the only reason Lily was given a choice to sacrifice her life for Harry (thus giving blood protection) is because Voldemort was convinced by Snape to spare her. If Snape hadn’t asked this, Lily would have had no choice but to die, and Harry would have followed. Must I mention how Harry would have been killed at 11 if not for Snape.

Also let’s love snape; who supposedly protected Harry. “You know what Harry, your mom didn’t loved me 82929 years ago also your dad was cooler than me, so I will treat you and your friends like sh*t

He never changed nor matured. He didn’t move on from Lily but he abused Harry because of his father.

Also thank you Snape for not killing Harry at 11. If Dumbledore told his suspicions to any other teacher, they would’ve done the same. Thank you Snape for not letting Harry fall from his broom.

And indeed it’s the same thing over and over again: I have the right (and the reasons) to dislike James and love Snape, just as you have the right (and the reasons) to dislike Snape and love James.

I won’t force you to like anyone. But you can’t + shouldn’t hate James because he was a bully. Snape was a bully too. You cant love a bully but also hate a bully. You should find more reasons to hate him. But it’s really hard to find reasons to hate James Potter who sacrificed himself for the world. Of course we will only focus on what he did as a 15 year old child. But what snape did at 15 has 392929 excuses.

Thank you for discussing this with me in an humane way. I highly encourage you to read my previous posts because I mentioned everything. Literally everything. I’m repeating myself at this point

#snape hate #anti snape

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multi-fandom-imagine · 5 years ago

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Four Times...Then A Fifth || Samuel Drake ||

a/n: I read a really cute fic like this featuring Nathan Drake and they made me want to write my own.

Fic can be found here. Five Times // Nathan Drake. @intomymindspace

Summary: Four Times where Sam Drake almost told you that he loved you, then on the Fifth he finally did.

The First:

You were running with the older Drake brother, you two may have broken a window but thanks to the dark street lights it was easy to lose the cops. Grinning you pressed your back against the wall laughing trying to catch your breath.

“Man..I can’t believe we lost them.”

Snorting Sam patted your shoulder then shook his head peering out from the wall. “That was close...you knew you could run so fast in a skirt...what’s with this get up anyway.” the boy tease pinching your cheek.

“Just because I’m still stuck at Saint Francis doesn’t mean you get to tease me.” You gave him a playful shove as he let out a chuckle.

“Alright alright! I’ll stop.” Though his gaze softened once he got a better look at you, god you looked beautiful. Clearing out his throat he shook his head then sighed holding out his arm for you. “Well I suppose I should get you back, wouldn’t want the nuns smacking your hand with a ruler....”

“Cute Sam, now how about I race ya back.” Laughing you took off running and with a sigh he shook his head then smiled as he chased after you.

It didn’t take long for you two to get back and with his help you managed to get over the gate.

“See ya around Morgan.”

“Catch ya on the flip side y/n....and y/n.”

“Ya?” You turned to face him.

Biting his tongue he debated on telling his feelings though shaking his head he forced a smile. “Watch over Nate for me ya.”

“Of course”

The Second.

“Sam?...Samuel Morgan...is that you?”

God he hasn’t heard that name in years, it startled him. Though the voice sounded familiar and it brought an ache to his chest, something that he wasn’t used too.

Turning around his eyes then wide, he wasn’t expecting that voice to be you. You certainly aged well, still beautiful and seeing you again brought those old feelings back.”

“Y/n..that you.”

“Aha I wouldn’t have called you buy your name if it wasn’t me Sam...but well it’s not Morgan is it, it’s Drake right” Grinning you shook your head. “It’s okay, Nathan told me everything.”

“He what.” Sam sighed slumping his shoulders though you let out a laugh then shook your head.

“This is Nathan we’re talking about Sam and well...I’m not mad...if that’s what you’re wondering.” You sighed stepping closer Sam, he was know longer that Teen you’ve fallen for but an adult.

“You’re not?” Shaking his head he was lucky, that even after these years you still didn’t hate him.

“Say...how about we get a drink...ya know...catch up.” Sam smiled at you holding out his hand.

“I’d love too.”

Sam knew it was a mistake taking you out, it was hard to push his feelings back down and the drinks we’re making it worse then the next thing he knew he was taking you back to a hotel, taking off your clothes and making love to you.

No...no this wasn’t love, this was sex....that’s what he just had to keep telling himself.

The Third

“I’m sorry...who are you?”

It’s been month’s since you’ve last seen Sam, with him leaving nothing but a note, an apology. While it stung that he left, part of you hoped he’d be back though it might be wishful thinking you still clung onto that thought.

“My name is Rafe...you’re y/n right...I got some new’s for you.”

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+- +-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

When Sam got shot he wasn’t thinking about the treasure, no he was thinking about you. How much of an idiot he was, how he could have easily blew off Rafe so he could have been with you.

How he could have just admitted his feelings for you instead of running away like a coward but instead here he was getting patched by some ‘doctor’, though part of him knew he deserved this.

The Fourth

“You...you and Rafe...you’re engaged..why?”

“What do you mean why? I thought you were dead?”

You had tears in your eyes, he didn’t like that...it was even worse since he was the cause of your tears.

“He’s a prick he!”

“He got you out of jail...you” turning your back to face him you started to fiddle with the ring on your finger. You hated this, hated that seeing him dug up the old feelings for him, hated Rafe for going behind your back and keeping this from you.

“Y/n...you’re smarter than this...better...you deserve someone better than him” Sam frowned, he wanted to say he was better for you but he wasn’t so sure about that, he knew that you were too good for him.

“Right...this is coming from the guy who fucked me... then left...” You yelled at him, you didn’t care if you were crying now.

“Y/n.”

“Don’t Y/n me Sam, why did you leave...was it because I told you that I love you...no that can’t be it...it’s because you don’t trust me about that stupid treasure right.”

“What! no...that’s not true at all” Sam snapped then frowned rubbing the back of his neck scowling. “I was trying to protect you!”

“Protect me! you don’t need to protect me!”

“Yes I do y/n...I do it because I.” He had to stop himself, he couldn’t do this now. Not when he was so close, he needed to get Nathan and once this was done...he could finally tell you his feelings.

“Forget it...congrats on your engagement by the way.”

And Finally the Fifth“

Ahhaha” Laughing you did your best to catch your breath, you maybe soaking wet, your ex fiance may have been a psycho is now gone but you managed to make it out alive.Shaking your head you watched as Nathan embrace his wife, missing how Sam was looking at you.

Hearing his chuckle Sam stepped closer to you as he placed his hand on your shoulder noticing the ring missing from your finger, he wondered when you got rid of that? Or did you get rid of it. Hearing you clear out of his throat he still kept his gaze on where your engagement ring once stood.

“How does it feel knowing you found Avery’s treasure?”You gave him a crooked smile though you quickly looked over his form making sure he really was fine. It scared the hell out of you seeing him unresponsive and pinned under that beam.

“Pretty good.” Sam sighed as he then reached down grabbing your hand gently.

“Couldn’t have done it with your help.” or his brothers, and Victors, or Elena’s but right now you were the most important thing.

“Hmm I guess that’s true.” You chuckled then sighed pressing your face into his chest. It felt good knowing he was here, alive in your arms. It scared you seeing him pinned to the ground but he made it out thank’s to Nathan…you really owed him one.

“I love you.”

“What?” You looked up at him in surprise, not expecting that to come out from Sam’s lips.

“I said I love you.” he let out a small laugh before he pulled you in for a kiss. “I love you Brooke…and I promise you that I’m not going anywhere”

#sam drake #sam drake x reader #uncharted 4 sam drake #samuel drake x reader #samuel drake #uncharted #uncharted 4 #uncharted sam #@intomymindspace #intomymindspace

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teacup-crow · 5 years ago

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Race You

Here’s my entry for Zombies, Make! round 2! Thanks for organising @puptart :) I only had 45 mins on this and it’s kind of a weird mess??? Based on prompts 1 (a person in a tunnel) and 2 (Out of my Head by CHVRCHES)

Set at the end of S3M47, in a universe where Shoot the Runner goes... even worse than it does in canon.

CW: implied character death, some mentions of blood

As far as hiding places went, Simon surmised, a railway tunnel wasn’t too bad of one. There were more comfortable places, certainly, but these days you were hardly likely to get hit by a moving train. Not like when he was a teenager, the thrill of the risk all part of the fun. Race you down these tunnels, Si! Race you, race you, race you…

Five sat across from him, white faced, their hands still trembling. Their trip, thank God and Mary and all the bloody saints for good measure, seemed to have finally ended.

“Are you gonna be sick again, or…”

He trailed off. Their expression was one of unbridled misery, guilt, terror; their clothes were still drenched in blood and vomit. He wanted to tell them that it would all be okay, the way he had after Archie’s murder. They’d sat in the meadow behind Abel and played Dancing Queen and drank terrible fermented cider, a little send-off of their own.

Of course, Five hadn’t known then that he was the one who killed her.

That time, he’d only been a monster inside rather than out.

So this time, he said nothing at all. The ceiling above dripped rhythmically, rusting the rails. He managed to hold his tongue for a while, at least, before he felt the silence pressing in too much. The weight of it frightened him, the tension before consequence, the sound of his own memories.

“We have to go back to Abel.”

Five started, and laughed, a horrible high-pitched whine. Their voice, rusty with rare use, managed: “go back?”

“We have to save them. Go back to the good old hero routine. We can’t let… we can’t let whatever happened to you happen to anyone else.”

“Whatever happened to me. Whatever… happened… to me.”

“Yeah. It’s… Five, it wasn’t your fault.”

“You weren’t there, Three. I killed him!” They pulled themselves to their feet, and threw a ringing kick at the metal rails. “I looked him in the eyes and he begged me to stop and I couldn’t. The axe broke and I didn’t stop. Do you… do you know what it’s like, to feel someone’s life slip away from under your fists?”

Simon’s new face didn’t really allow him to raise an eyebrow, but he attempted it. “I mean, I’ve been on at least one side of the equation.”

He’d been on both. Race you, race you, race you.

At that, Five raised their arm to hit him, and then let it fall with a sob. “I’m going mad. I heard them all… I want them all back, Si. I just want them all back.”

Before the apocalypse, before his fifteenth birthday, even. Nick Avery had always tailed their gang everywhere, trying to act like a hard man. Wearing those stupid bloody shoes, of course he got stuck in the-

“Tell me he’s not dead. Just tell me he’s not dead. It was just all part of the hallucination, wasn’t it? He’s alive and all those people on the ship are alive and Jody’s alive and, and Sara and Archie and I just have to reach out and-”

Of all the people he’d got killed since, why was he thinking about that cheerful little kid in specs and an oversized school blazer?

The sound of footsteps saved him from the rabbit hole. “Mind-controlled goons, ten O’clock. We have to go, now.”

And he did it, reached across the divide and took the slick gory hand in his own and pulled them along behind him again, just like he could have grabbed Nick’s, and didn’t. Race you, Moonchild. Race you, race you, race you.

#zombies run #zr #zombies make #zrs3 spoilers #simon lauchlan #runner five

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inkedsoldier · 5 years ago

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AMOR VINCIT OMNIA - Chapter Five

A/N: Here it is – chapter five of the AMOR VINCIT OMNIA series! Do you still have some tissues within reach? Let’s continue where we ended in chapter four. I hope you enjoy & please let me know what you think about the series so far! Thanks for all the support!

Y/N = Your name.

Y/F/N = Your first name.

Y/L/N = Your last name.

Characters: Sam Drake, Nathan Drake, Y/N.

Warnings: angst, and a tiny bit of a naked Sam.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Masterlist

Chapter Five

Scar Tissue

Finally, the day he so long waited for is here; the person he loved, his soulmate, was only a few steps away. Fifteen years he had to wait to wrap his arms around you and kiss those soft lips again. He was as nervous as ever to approach you. When Sam is just inches away you stand up and gaze at him, soaking in the warmth of his eyes. This is what you dreamt of, just the two of you, finally together again. After a moment you raise your hand to his face and let the tears fall. Before you can draw in the air you need you melt down into his form. You feel his strong physique and the heart that beats within. Sam’s hands fold around your body, drawing you in closer. He can feel your body shake, crying for the missed time you will never get back. He cups your face and wipes the tears away with his calloused thumbs, before he leaves a soft kiss on your lips. You want to speak, but the words don’t want to leave your mouth. With each touch more tears roll down and Sam makes the decision to kiss you again, to make your whole world fall away. It was slow and gentle, comforting in ways that words would never be. “Don’t go… not again,” you manage to say with a croaked voice. Sam’s mouth turns into a soft smile and nods once before folding you in his arms again and you lay your head on his chest.

The sun rose, filling the sky with shades of orange and pink, when you make your way back to Nate. The first thing you do when you arrive back in the office is give Nate a comforting hug. You still don’t know what to say as you roll your chair towards his desk, but there was a lot to talk about. “I must say, you two are unbelievable,” Sam chuckled when he sat down in the chair opposite of Nathan’s. “My little brother here told me you had stumbled upon multiple archaeological gold mines… and somehow every time managed to walk away… with nothing.” You smile and Nate answers, “Yeah, well, it’s the story of my life, I guess. But you know, I managed to grab a few trinkets here and there. Paid of the car, the house, engagement ring… Engagement ring. I’m married. I can’t believe - Elena, from the stories… that’s my wife. You got to come meet her. Tonight, dinner. At my place. Y/N already promised Lena to come; I can tell her all about you. Shit, we need to tell her all about you.” Sam uncomfortably stands up, “Nathan… I’m in a lot of trouble here.” You are confused by his reply, “What? What are you talking about? What kind of trouble?” Sam clearly didn’t know how to start; you could see it on his face. “Does the name Hector Alcazar ring a bell with you?” “Yes, he is the drug lord. The butcher of Panama, right?” you respond. “Mm-hmm. It’s a funny story, but um… for the last year he was my cell mate. So, this is how I got out of prison…”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Memories of the first time you went looking for Avery’s treasure spooked through your head when Sam spoke about the deal he had made with Alcazar. Avery’s treasure in exchange for his life. “This is bad,” Nate mutters. “No, we just pick up the trail where we left off and…” Sam started. “Wait, trail? Sam, there is no trail. After Rafe, Y/N and I escaped Panama, Rafe took his parents’ fortune and bought up all the land around the cathedral of Saint Dismas. We combed that place for weeks. Avery’s treasure is not there,” Nate told him. “Not that that’s stopped Rafe. Moron’s been digging for years. Still hasn’t turned up squat,” you spoke just hard enough for the brothers to hear. “Not really surprised,” Sam said. “What does that mean?” Nate answered. “Well I just, you know, happened to do a little digging of my own… And uh… Bet you Rafe doesn’t have this. It’s really amazing what you can find on the internet these days.” Sam shows you and Nate a picture of the Saint Dismas cross. “It’s just the Saint Dismas cross,” Nate spoke with a confused look. “Oh, is it? Because the one we found was broken. And hollow. Remember?” Sam smirked. “Holy crap, it’s still intact. Avery made more than one cross.” Nate replied while looking at the picture again. “So, whatever’s missing from the one in Panama…” Sam said. “…is probably still inside this one,” you finished. “Well, all right. Where is it?” Nate asked. “Oh, this exquisite piece is going up for auction in three days at the Rossi Estate.”

The idea that you had to start looking for the treasure again made you anxious. It took everything from you fifteen years ago; Sam, and your unborn child. The possibility that the clue was probably hidden in a second cross made it a bit easier to swallow. Nate was trying to come up with another idea to save Sam’s life, but there was not enough time left to look for a way out of this mess; the only way to get this cross in your hands was by stealing it during the black market auction at the Rossi Estate. You had to get back into the game as a thief. There was nobody else to trust with this kind of matter. Nate decided to go back home to tell Elena that you were going away for a little while to work on the Malaysia job, and to pack the equipment he needed; the younger Drake had to make his wife believe that you both took on the job after all. You also had to pack your bags for the job and the days of travel ahead. You left your motorcycle at the office so Nate could drive you and Sam to your place; Nate couldn’t just show up with a brother he never mentioned. Going home with Sam was strange. Never in a million years would you have thought this could ever happen. Of course, there were times that you and Nate still believed that there was a possibility that he was still alive, but while looking for him every question came back with a negative answer. Everything confirmed that Sam was dead.

Walking to the front porch you hold the key in the palm of your hand. Followed by Sam you think of all the things you want to say to him. Before you unlock the door, you turn around to meet his hazel eyes, “I waited for you to jump off that cliff and come home to me.” His head whipped up at the sound of your voice, “Y/N, I… I don’t know what to say.” Getting inside, you shut the door behind you with a soft click. “Why didn’t you try to reach out to us? You could’ve sent a letter, or something,” you say as you walk into the kitchen area. “I tried. I asked a guard who did some favours for me to mail a letter – to Nate’s P.O. box, but the warden saw it and he busted me up pretty bad. I never saw the guard again.” “I’m so sorry,” you respond visibly shocked. “How did you survive this mess? Nate saw you get shot and…” Sam pulls up his shirt and shows the scars on his stomach, “Yes, he did. Right… there… The doctors – doctors – they patched me up, and they tossed me right back into the cell.” You stepped closer and gently brushed over the scars, feeling the scar tissue of the exit wounds with your fingers. Shaking your head, you pull Sam’s shirt down again. “I really need to start packing before Nate comes to pick us up,” you state as you kick off your leather boots. “If you want to, you can take a shower before we leave. I still got some of your old clothes upstairs.” Sam didn’t know how to respond to that. Why did you hold on to his clothes for so many years? “I know… it’s stupid. But they still smelled like you. I missed you, Sam. I really missed you. Eventually me and Nate stopped talking about you, because the hurt was too much.”

It didn’t take you a long time to finish up packing - you always kept a bag prepared, just in case. The black backpack had seen better days. You took it with you on so many adventures; everything you needed safe inside. You also filled another bag with clothes, shoes and some other stuff you needed the next couple of days. Sam took your advice and went into the shower to freshen up before the hours of travel ahead of you. There were some essentials you needed from the bathroom, so you knocked softly on the door. “Do you mind if I come in really quick?” you asked. Yes, you had seen each other naked, but the whole situation made you rethink everything. “No, it’s okay,” Sam answered. He was still in the shower when you entered the steam filled room. Your lips parted as you inhaled deeply. The water sprayed softly on his hair, as the stream made its way down along his back and thighs. He obviously kept his physique while in prison. You snap out of your daze when you hear the doorbell ring. Rapidly you grab what you need and sprint downstairs to open the door.

“Hey, you ready?” Nate asked when you opened the door. “Almost. Sam’s in the shower, and I just finished packing my stuff. Did you get the plane tickets?” you replied with a small smile on your face. “Yeah, Sully got us three a plane ticket to Rome with a short layover in London. A rental car will be ready for us when we arrive,” he explained as he sat down on the couch. “Sully?” you said with a confused look. “I thought we could use all the help we can get, and he knows the people running the auction.” You hadn’t seen Victor Sullivan in a long time, but he was always there when you needed him. He patched you up when you got shot, or stabbed, and he loved Nate as a son. He is family.

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