#he's keeping silent in the face of these new witches he does not understand

[interdimensionalhellscapeportal]

AU: after the brothers lost consciousness in their escape pod, injured and lost following their ignoble defeat at the hands of kEnObIiiii, they are found & rescued not by Deathwatch but by a craft full of the most diabolical, imaginative, and thoroughly unhinged beings they have ever encountered: the fans of galactic music sensation <aurebesh equivalent of BTS>.

been a very long time since i drew my fav star wars boys uwu

[4rs0n1stt]

Talk To You //

Hopeless!Romantic!Donnie x Fem!Reader

author's note; kinda like a song fic (it's not) but yeah, super super late though!!  Donnie's POV btw!!

yes it's been a 3 months 😋

Synopsis; Donnie has been keeping an eye on someone, being a hopeless romantic and his ”bad boy image“ isn't particularly helping.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

I hate this, I really hate this. Einstein, fucking help me. I wasn't supposed to like her! I wasn't supposed to like anyone!! I do not have any romantic feelings to her. But every single thing that I researched said otherwise. Even my own brother says so!! Why does everytime I look at you I get so— vulnerable? Staring at your face always made me calm. Admiring? Ew. But— those little short eye contacts are indescribably astonishing to feel. Maybe just maybe?

I don't know. You're messing up my mind- you little—

"Gahh, what should I do?" I groaned and slammed my head onto my table, a pencil fell from the said table. I stayed silent, frustrated at this ungodly useless feelings I've been feeling. I couldn't take her off my mind. All day long, I daydream about her which takes most of my productivity a waste. I haven't done anything but think about that little twat.

Reflecting doesn't help at all, all I think was her and her! Thinking about now, I just don't know why you keep being calm even though I've been so mean to you. I shouldn't do anything stupid like that but I can't help it, I'm figuring this out.

Feelings are so complicated to feel and such an unfortunate thing for me to have something people call as “humane“.

"Hey Donnie! Someoneeee~ got pizza!! She has your favourite!" Leo yelled at the other side of my door. Disturbing me from my reminiscing of this said person. Leo always knew about what our relation—rivalryship (even if it's partially one-sided) is. And he uses it as an advantage to tease me, specifically—fucking with me up.

I wouldn't blame him entirely though, I liked and hated this feeling. He doesn't know anyway. I wouldn't blame him aswell, she's really...cool, I guess.

I stopped myself from thinking about her before it gets worse. I fixed myself, not just physically but mentally, it's an eager to make her impress. But she wouldn't be impressed as I have been mean to her.

As I went to the main room, I wasn't particularly sure where they were but as I, the genius, were right. They were all huddled up with each other. Apparently they missed her for being gone for 13 days, 56 minutes and 12 seconds-

Goddamnit it...

"Ughhh, finally!! Some break from that shithole." She complained, I wondered. She picked a sliced pizza on the placed pizza on the ground and sat at the bean bag. She sighed releasing the stress and pain from her back...I suppose.

"Girl. Spill everything."  Leo spoke excitedly like a girl's girl. Everyone gets their preferred pizza and/or pillows, blankets and sat with her. Curious on her new stories about her college.

I was really uninterested about school, but I find myself listening on her rantings about the latest drama, tea and struggles on her daily life of college. I somewhat don't understand her words, I don't care anyway. Her voice has always been nice to hear even if she stuttered sometimes.

But every flaws she had was attractive. It's...unfair. That she's so extraordinary and remarkable human that we happen to stumble upon. I looked at her longingly, eyeing her squinted smile, her pimples, her.

I wish I can talk to you.

To talk to you without any mean remarks towards her, to be able to hear her laugh and compliments towards my acts.

I want to be near her, to feel her presence all of the time. To spend time with her just like my brothers do. How I envy them, surprisingly.

It's so frustrating, it's been years. I've been struggling with my quote unquote "love" or "admiration" towards her. She must be a witch, no one can make me feel like a hopeless pathetic, lovesick dog!

Even if I wanted to confess, I wouldn't have the chance to, I'm way too vulnerable when we're alone. I get so shy and flustered to do it.

Let alone I'm horrible at confronting my feelings, I can even write a damn letter for Einstein's sake!

I just- can't do it now

I'm hopeless.

Yet I desire for you.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

author's note here; yes it's been months, i apologize deeply. literally fucking school is devouring my existence and motivation rn not to mention I have a deadline to finish (cough March 29 cough) and I haven't even started it.

credits to Rick Montgemery for his astonishing songsssssssssss

[eastwindmlk]

By the time that seventh year rolled around, some people had developed an uncanny ability to spot the look on McGonagall’s face. The look meant that someone was getting bad news. It had mercifully evaded people too close for much longer than any of them had expected. Longer than any of them could have hoped for. But when her shadow appeared behind them at lunch, her severe look pained and her lips pinched, and the entire Gryffindor table held their breaths. Eyes roamed the rows, watching for the poor bastard being picked out of the line.

What no one expected was that the hand would land on James’s shoulder, and there was a collective gasp. All the eyes were checking on the half-blood or less students. The kinds of people that were the prime targets of these tragedies.

Getting up from his seat caused a hushed whisper to start floating along the table. Like fire, it spread in every direction. By the time the shocked-looking head boy was out of the Great Hall, it had reached the far corners.

The nervous mutters caught on quickly; even the paintings were talking about it. By the time they reached the office of the head of house, James could hear them already:

‘The Potters?’ ‘They’re targeting purebloods now?’ ‘What does that mean for the 28?’

And all James wanted to do was yell at them and tell them that it could be anything. His parents were fine; this wasn’t anything like that. For the first time ever, he hoped that they’d been found out. He was just being stripped of his badge, and that was that. He prayed all the way up those stairs. Eyes on his dragging feet.

The office smelled like tea, a red flag. They all knew she would offer the poor sods a cup of tea. “Sit down, Mister Potter. Have a biscuit.” The professor told him, her voice gentler and more pained than usual. More red flags. “I’d rather not, professor. If that means you’re not going to say what I think you are,”

There was a silence where the pair looked at each other, coming to a silent understanding. Ending with James sitting down and taking a ginger snap from the tin, unable to bring himself to eat it. Dunking it in the cup of tea in front of him. Listening to the elder witch speak as it slowly devolved into the steaming cup.

Waiting for the ringing in his ears was the only thing he could hear before pushing himself up onto his feet. “Thank you, professor.” Somewhere in the flurry of his thoughts, the young Gryffindor remembered to smile politely before fleeing from the room. Fingers already pulling at the knot of his tie, hoping that would fix the tightness in his throat,

Eyes still on the flagstone ahead of him, he noticed too late that someone was in his path. He collided with them suddenly, reeling back. Carefully manicured fingers grabbed onto his shirt, keeping both of them upright. “I don’t want to talk.” He protested reflexively, not wanting to see the look of pity that was surely on the redhead’s face.

“Fine, then we walk.” Dismissing her remark with a shrug, James continued his track down the hallway. Anywhere, but here. Anywhere, he could avoid the eyes and the whispers. Pushing through hidden corridors and gliding down the back stairs. Anything to avoid the crowds.

All the way down to the backdoors, he could hear the sound of Lily’s loafers following him all the way down. Every sharp corner, every skipped step. Pausing only after pushing the door open to caution him. “James, it’s raining. You’re going to get sick.” Only making him pause long enough to tell her. “I’ll be fine.” Expecting her to turn back, she was right there, crunching the leaves underfoot.

By the time they were halfway to the lake, the rain had soaked through the robes, and the November cold was seeping into his skin. Lily was right; if he kept going, he would probably get sick. But he could not find it in himself to care. Not when the biting wind was the only thing stopping him from breaking down. It drowned out everything around him. He was hoping that, in the silence, he would find a way to go back to class. To carry on with his day, plan a funeral.

“James!” Lily’s voice cut through the fog, insisting, and likely not the first time she had attempted to catch his attention. Her fingers closed around his soaked sleeve and tugged. His body responded to her silent demand. His cold body was met with her heating charm. The warmth unexpectedly shattered the walls he’d put up.

“You don’t need to run, but if you do, I am going to be right there.”

[fragmcntedsouls]

[ drew starkey | he/him ] Another face is seeking safety in New Orleans. Make sure to welcome ABEL CAMPBELL to the home of the resilient. Rumor has it that they are a 24 year old WEREWOLF, who is one of the SACRIFICED but we’ll keep that a secret. They are said to be ZEALOUS, but that’s all a façade to cover up their SAGACIOUS nature. We’ve heard that they can be found listening to PARANOID by I PREVAIL, which sums them up pretty well. Let’s hope that they can find a way to survive this harsh new world.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄: 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: thomas abel campbell 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: abel, tommy 𝐀𝐆𝐄: 21/24 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄: june 23rd 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍: new orleans 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄: new orleans 𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: a hot mess 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓: neutral 𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓: melancholic 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂: punched walls, bloodied knuckles, the silent sufferer, gives excellent advice that he won't follow himself, backward caps, good intentions; terrible results. Saying 'this is a bad idea' a hundred times before doing stupid shit with his friends. 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: infertility, death, ptsd, alcoholism, more death, trauma the works (i told ya it was coming)

𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘:

Abel’s parents struggled to conceive their first and only son and after years of longing for a child, eventually their prayers were answered and his mother fell pregnant. The day that he was born was the greatest in her short life and while Abel doesn’t have definitive memories of his late mother, he does know how much she loved him. Life in the bayou was hard and the family didn’t have much to their names, his father having even enlisted into the military, anything to help their little family get by, but Abel's mother fell ill and without access to sufficient medicine, she passed away when he was young.

Eventually, his father remarried and Abel was raised by his stepmom while Tobias was away. Growing up in the bayou, he had no idea of the world that existed outside of the pack – or at least, he didn’t until meeting Marni. They became instant best friends, but it was only then that Abel began to see the divide between pack life and the life that existed outside of the bayou. Underprivileged, Abel didn’t attend public school or have friends outside of the pack other than Marni and he used to sneak out to meet her, with her being the one to teach him to read and write, even bringing him new clothes and food because she could see how much he needed it. The pair grew up together, navigating their lives side by side – except it was never destined to be that simple. 

When Abel was seventeen, his mother passed and his father had already been struggling with alcoholism after taking leave from the military, the grief of another loss was everything to tip him over the edge. Abel and his siblings had lost both of their parents and while the pack did their best to rally together to help the siblings, Abel just needed his father. Over the course of the next couple years, Tobias would disappear and reappear like clockwork and Abel would make countless excuses for the man. Preserve the memory of the man he once knew, the man he swore his father could still be for his sisters. The Kenner's took pity on the siblings, caring for them when Tobias couldn’t. 

Abel always had a kind heart, sometimes to a fault and he would go out of his way to help others; after the death of his mother and his father pulling another disappearing act, he could feel himself descending into a state of self destruction — until he was offered a proposition, something that would save his sisters, his father and importantly to him, save Marni. Her coven were always a part of something bigger, something that Abel didn’t understand himself but desired for the sake of Marni. He was the first test subject for the prison world, but once he was in -- the witches went back on their deal and didn't let him out again. Inside the prison world, he endured hell; despite being a crescent he was subjected to countless turns, every day for over a thousand days. A thousand turns. Still, he had to believe in Marni and in her coven. It was all for the greater good – but that idea became fractured after Briggs was thrown into the prison world with him. He saw the way that his friend suffered and after seeing the way that Abel suffered, Marni pulled him out of the prison world, but Abel begged to return for Briggs. Marni unwillingly agreed, sending Abel back, but she sent him with the formula to get out.

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍'𝐒:

⭒ abel triggered his crescent curse when he was 14 years old, his father was in debt owed bad people a lot of money and so they came to the bayou looking for it. In his fathers drunken state, he threw a punch that didn't land steady and ended up getting jumped. protecting his mother and sisters, abel ran outside and reached for the closest thing to be used as a weapon. you know how the rest goes. ⭒ after the collapse of the prison world, abel was encouraged by marni to get out of new orleans and so he did. the trauma of it all having rapidly caught up with him, shutting him down entirely. ⭒ since returning, abel has tried to rebuild the relationships with his sisters, knowing that he left them just like their father had. who is also currently off on yet another bender.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:

parents: evelyn campbell ( birth mother † ), ocean campbell nee whitlock ( step-mother † ) tobias campbell ( father ) the kenners ( stand in family ) siblings: oaklee campbell ( 22 year old sister ), bryson campbell ( 18 year old sister ) madelyn campbell ( 7 year old sister ) relationships: marni lewis (soulmate don't @ him), aria cadieux (best friend), briggs mikaelson, lucas cadieux, (bro's), riley shaw, jackie miller ( ex fwb ) pack: crescent pack

[pinayelf-archive]

I have to ask because that piece you posted is just too lovely. You mentioned that Amihan fell for Alistair first, but he fell for her harder. What did that timeline look like? What drew Amihan to him and vice versa? What kept him so damn long??? 😂

Thank you!!! ❤️

Amihan developed feelings for him during the Blight (in any timeline). She was very mad about it lol, because she saw feelings and such as a weakness and a bad thing among other stuff.

It wasn't hard for her to fall for Alistair lol, she likes to act like she's this cold unfeeling person who doesn't need anyone but she desperately yearns for belonging and love. Alistair is...Alistair! He's kind, has a golden heart and even though she was needlessly mean to him, he tried and he explicitly cared for her well-being. And it doesn't hurt that he's also a handsome dude.

Amihan is an acquired taste, she's a lot like a porcupine and coming from the Circle and what happened with Jowan and Lily, she was adamant at being this cold hearted witch. At this time, Alistair doesn't see her that way, but he does grow to care for her as she softens up and he understands why she's Like That.

After the Blight, Amihan discovers what it's like to have people care for her because she found a family and friendship in Zevran, Leliana, Morrigan (ouchie), and yes, Alistair. She heals and she becomes more of the person she actually is.

She and Alistair of course work with each other over the years with the Wardens at the Keep and they become very close, best friends. Amihan's feelings for him only grow deeper. And Alistair starts seeing her in a different light as she grows into a smart, beautiful, surprisingly funny, albeit grumpy woman.

Alistair always felt like his identity as Maric's basted hung over his head and people didn't care for the real him - Amihan never cared about that. He could be himself with her, she encourages him to stand up for himself. He can tell her anything and shes amazingly creativr. And maybe he also finds her grumpiness cute sometimes lol.

I think it took him long cause he never just thought of it? Even though it's clearly written on his face. He wants to be around her all the time. She's the first person he thinks of when he wakes up. When he has big news he wants to tell her first. But this is because she's his best friend of course!!

It's also funny because during the Blight and maybe just early on after it, Alistair is privy to Amihan's crush on him, everyone is. It was this unspoken thing that they silently just agreed to not bring up. But he assumed it faded over the years as they became actual friends.

When he realizes, it actually punches him in the face - which is what was going on in that piece lol.

I'm sorry this got long!!! But thank you for letting me blab about my ships ❤️

[sl-newsie]

Spelled (Carlos de Vil x Sanderson Daughter) Descendants 3- Ch. 3: Good To Be Bad

Overnight, Audrey and I take the time to scout around where Mal’s currently visiting, which is Evie’s house. While a part of me is happy to see she’s been so successful with the fashion business, it doesn’t erase the fact that she stole my idea.

“So… what’s the whole situation with you and dog boy?” Audrey asks in a light mocking tone.

I rise from the rock I’m perched on and walk away to avoid revealing my crumbling emotions. The last thing I need is for Audrey to rekindle the fire I’ve worked so hard to tame.

“Carlos moved on and loves Jane now. He mistook my isolation as rejection and now it seems like he’s forgotten me entirely. He’s partially the reason I quit trying to be good. He chose this. When I last saw him, he said that I keep running away from my problems, that I’m stubborn and selfish.” I huff at the thought. “He wanted to know why I wasn’t the ‘kind white witch who helped everyone.’ Well, times change. I’m through putting up with impossible expectations and chasing after a lost true love.”

The ‘true love’ words seem to spark something in Audrey and she gets a melancholy expression.

“So he really was your true love?” she asks softly.

I nod. “Yeah. But fate’s never been kind to me, why start now?”

She stays silent for a while, then says: “I know a thing or two about what it’s like to have your life torn apart by losing a relationship.”

It’s then that I realize that Audrey isn’t in this just for power… she wants justice too.

“That’s right…” I wonder out loud. “You were next in line to be queen, and then Mal…” I find a sliver of kindness for Audrey and glance up to give her a sincere look. “I’m sorry that happened. I know I wasn’t a fan of you dating my best- used to be best friend, but after he started dating Mal you were just- just swept under the rug. Just like…” Just like how Carlos forgot me. 

I don’t need to finish. Audrey knows what I’m thinking, and we both fall into a comfortable silence. As the sun rises we see more VKs walk through the front door from the tree we’re hiding behind. I see Carlos, and all I can think of is how disappointed he was when I last saw him. Forget about him, he had his chance.

We bide our time, watching the day pass by waiting for when Mal’s alone. Soon enough she does come out through the back door with a gift bag for Jane in her hand.

“I was hoping you were home!” Audrey announces in a mocking voice as she makes her dramatic appearance.

But Mal just laughs. “Is this a joke? What are you doing with the crown and the scepter?”

“Well, I wanted them so I took them. You of all people should understand that, Mal.”

Fair point. Audrey twirls the scepter in her face and Mal tenses up. 

“Audrey, don’t use that!” She warns.

Audrey gives her a playful look. “Aw, I thought you liked spells.”

“Audrey-”

“Quiet!” 

The new pink-haired villain suddenly loses her temper and swings the glowing scepter at Mal, who now decides to notice me.

“Magica, what are you doing? Help me stop her!”

She looks to me for help, after all she did?

I step closer, lean in, and whisper: “Now it’s your turn to feel helpless, Mal.”

My words sink in, and Mal’s face melts from confusion to shock. It takes a while for her to find words, while Audrey laughs at her befuddled reaction.

“You- you’re with her. You’re working with Audrey! Why would you do that?”

“Like thou can’t even think of a reason? The real question is how far did you think you could push me before I did turn into a real Sanderson?” I grit my teeth.

But Mal still doesn’t get it. “Wait- what did I-?”

My temper rages and my magic sends a force that knocks Mal down. “You took everything from me!” I rise into the air and surround her with purple flames to prevent her escaping. “My friends, my father, my life!”

Audrey joins me by blasting magic from the scepter and Mal panics again. 

“That’s not a toy, it’s dangerous-!”

“I want to be dangerous! My life was perfect until you stole it, and then Auradon turned its back on me.” She turns and starts walking towards me. “It’s time for a little payback.”

Mal seems to think she can still reason with me and keeps pleading.

“I swear your father is safe! I- I’m sorry if I made you feel like you were pushed away-”

I swipe my hand and she goes quiet. “You don’t get to be sorry. You made me like this! A criminal! But I must say that I gotta thank you. It’s good to feel loved, but it’s better to be feared!”

“Agreed,” Audrey says brightly as she points the scepter at Mal.

Her eyes go wide. “Audrey, wait-!”

But it’s too late. Audrey zaps Mal with a bright bolt of magic, and starts laughing like a maniac. When the smoke lifts, Mal is now what the elders would call a ‘hideous wiccan.’

“You think Ben will love you now, you old hag? You’ll pay the price for what you did and so will all of Auradon!”

Just then the door bursts open and the other original VKs come running out. This time, seeing Carlos only makes my pride swell even more.

“So long, suckers.” Audrey does a twirl and disappears in a cloud of pink smoke.

“Oh my gosh!” Jay sees Mal and then does a double-take when I walk closer. “You’re back! What happened- why is Mal so… old?”

Him and Evie go to help Mal, while Carlos keeps glancing at me.

“She… she’s with Audrey.” Mal speaks in a muffled voice and points at me.

Everyone turns back to me. Here we go…

“Is she right? Are you with Audrey?” Evie asks. “How could you?”

“You’re not mean, trixie. What happened?” 

Carlos keeps shaking his head. “Magica this isn’t you!”

I scoff. “And how would you know? How would any of you know? You’ve all been blindly going merrily along with whatever Mal says, being so happy with your perfect little lives while innocent people are being hurt!”

“Mal, what's she talking about?” Jay asks.

I let out a cheery cackle. “Oh, you haven’t told them? Go ahead, Mal. Tell them. Tell them how you demoted Remus. Tell them how you had my own father locked away for nothing.” The VKs get confused looks and it makes me smile to see them rethink their actions. “You wanted to know why I’m doing this? Maybe it’s because all I ever wanted was to have a normal life and be accepted. But no. I can’t even have that. Audrey sees eye to eye with me about this.” I take to the air again on my broom and use magic to burn my message on Evie’s sign: never forget.

“Look familiar, Carlos?”

His wide eyes show fear and sadness. “Magica, please! Don’t do this! We can find another way-”

“Sorry, Carlos. But this is one story that doesn’t have a happy ending.”

I snap my fingers and send sparks raining down on them before I fly off into the clear sky.

Right now I have a little visit to pay to an old rival...

[lunarscaled]

"Greetings," Rudbornn says in a calm, cordial manner, upon approaching Lyric, "it is my understanding that these belong to you; please accept their return."

Rudbornn snaps his fingers, with one of his Calaveras flashing into view shortly after. In that silent soldiers hands is a large section of white scales, glittering, beautiful, and pristine, matching those still attached to Lyric. The Calavera then bows its head, and offers the scales up to Lyric, with both they, and Rudbornn, quietly awaiting a response.

-> This is the second arrancar they have met whose face they cannot see, now. Lyric wonders if there is some purpose behind it: anonymity or security or perhaps they have none at all, unlike most of the Espada they have met. Regardless of the reason, even when they cannot see his face Lyric does not sense malice in the approach of the other ( that's no reason not to be cautious, they think Ulquiorra would say to them in his droning, flat tone. it would be undercut by the most subtle strain of a parent trying to keep a child from sticking a fork in a light socket. he's wary of others, not of what Lyric may get themselves into ), so they turn to him from where they stand in some facsimile of a zen garden on a flat stone. Winds have flattened out all the concentric circles that may have decorated stones and dry trees, but at least it was some moderate change of pace and scenery. There were only so many places they were allowed to go without being chaperoned, after all.

"... have we met?"

-> Lyric's voice, too, is cordial and calm. His gentle approach has roused no fear in them; their posture jerks and twitches slightly at the sudden appearance of another from nothing ( where did it come from? was it always there? was it apart of him? was it another arrancar? was he an Espada?) , and they hold their body stiff for a beat before their eyes shift from cattle skull to outstretched hands draped with a piece of clean fabric. Lyric's opalescent scales are contained within, their clean white color glittering with flecks of jeweled iridescence in a rainbow of colors, perhaps the most this desert has seen. Most are no bigger than Lyric's own thumb, but some were larger and jagged at the edges, where they came off their shoulders or jaw. Lyric has to wonder how or where the arrancar could have found these——the only place they could think they may have shed or lost some other than when escaping a Hollow ( or the 5th Espada, chasing them around just to watch them scramble ) is... ...

... It's better not to think of that man or his lab, anymore. They assume that is where he found these: somewhere in the abandoned wreckage.

"... they are. Thank you."

-> Lyric carefully takes the pile of scales and the little fabric beneath them into their own. hands and closes their palms around them gently. There was no reason to keep them, really, beyond some old witch's superstition about giving pieces of your body to another. They suppose they could keep them in their room, for now. Maybe they would be valuable to analyze in some way, for Wing Bind, or the 12th Division. ——Lyric turns their body and head towards Rudbornn more fully and gently inclines it & their torso forward in a polite partial bow. When they raise their head again they take in the proud horns of his skull and all the clean, defined lines that define the features down to the high collar of his uniform. They lift their head a little more to look up at him; a shimmer colors the vivid orange of their iris, wide eyes fascinated by the kindness and the new stranger before then. ( they think about a fairytale balanced on their knees in Ulquiorra's library: in a hazy dream garden, knowing he is asleep, the prince spots the cursed princess beneath a canopy of roses. and in a moment I am taken instantly. )

"Where did you find them?"

[lifewiththelulus]

Do you think he’d ever miss Lily, simply because she’s been his parental figure for so long, and he just misses the familiarity of her presents?

Oh of course She might not have been a good parent, but she was his only example of one so he's attached himself to her She basically taught him the way she was treating him was what love is So he doesn't understand at all when he's taken away and suddenly in a new place with people who don't constantly snap at him/ignore him/ spoil him to get him to go away It was always a toss up on how she treated him from day to day, being a heavy party personality that's come home hung over and locks him in the closet, or being still intoxicated and giving him whatever it is he wants.

He does miss her a lot for a long time, and he'd often fuss over wanting to go back to her, but as time goes on he stops doing that and in fact starts to feel guilty because he finds that he wouldn't wanna go back anymore

So one time Lily came home already pissed off because she got ditched by someone who brought her to a party as a date, and once seeing how demanding she was ran off. So she walks in the house to an absolute mess. She left him alone all day to his own devices, and having been ignored the past few days he had gotten to a boiling point and went on a little rampage. The TV was tipped over, the trash was dumped everywhere, clothes everywhere, broken stuff everywhere. He had literally torn through the house like an out of control tornado.

She snaps at this and marches up to his room to wake him up. She picks up the closest thing and throws it towards him, it shattered on the wall behind him. They scream at each other for a good bit before Lily yells "I WISH I NEVER HAD YOU! YOU RUINED MY ENTIRE LIFE!" before grabbing him by the hoodie and throwing him into the closet He was left in there for a long time as she stomped around and threw things herself, saying some pretty nasty things about him He heard all of it

And she fuckin wonders why he acts that way

oof Vapor and Bog having a rough day and needing some me time, which would make Fume do the same thing, trash the place while they're asleep, once he breaks something heavy and hears them wake up, he'd run out of the house in fear. Witch would just make it look like someone broke in and took Fume to Vapor and Bog.

So when he runs out he's panicked out of his little mind and just goes as far as he can before stopping because he doesn't know where he is anymore He was definitely too afraid to back though because he thinks about the mess he just made and what happened the last time he did that. He doesn't even know what made him start doing it, it was just a blind rage moment

When he's eventually found and brought back to them he's fully expecting to be yelled at and put in 'time out'

Wah oh! Do you think he’d keep it to himself or would he tell them the truth?

He would probably think they already know until they ask what happened He considers lying, but seeing the genuine worry on their faces, then the mess he made behind them, he looks down and fesses up. He backs away from Vapor and Bog and frustrated, starts to go on about how he really wanted their normal movie night, and he just got really angry and couldn't stop himself from doing it. He doesn't dare look at them because he starts to cry and struggles with keeping himself still as he silently sobs He's bracing himself for harsh words, yelling, even getting moved to another home because it's happened twice already. He's still convinced Lily called and had him taken away, not that he was taken from Lily

Instead they do the last thing he expects them to do, they apologize to HIM. For putting off movie night, and that they didn't mean to make him feel like his needs weren't important

Of course they still have to punish him, so they tell he has to help them clean up.

He just looks at them with utter confusion, but stays quiet. He's silent the entire time they clean. No complaining, no whining. Just does as he's told, thinking of only one thing. Why? Why weren't they mad? Why weren't they yelling and screaming and throwing things? For the first time he truly feels guilty for his actions, he really thinks hard about the things he did.

Once everything is clean and they tuck him back in bed, Just as vapor and bog shut off the lights he speaks up "I'm sorry."

He's making progress It just takes baby steps

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Oh shit, I never told you that Merlin isn’t my actual name??

Igraine reveals… one hell of a secret, and not the one you’re thinking of:

Part 2   Part 3   Part 4(final part)(coming soon)

TW: Uther being a Jackass I guess?

Arthur knows about his dumbass servant’s magic. He wasn’t best pleased, in fact, he was furious when he first found out; how is supposed to protect his servant-turned-best-friend-except-that’s-super-secret-even-from-himself if he’s off doing stupid shit like Sorcery in Camelot?!

He was a lot more sympathetic when Merlin explained that he’d been born with it, and that his destiny was, literally, tied to Arthur’s. That, mixed with the fact that Arthur tended to get himself into a LOT of trouble, without even realising it most of the time, means Merlin has no choice but to be doing stupid shit like Sorcery in Camelot.

Merlin is currently giving Arthur the silent treatment, not that Arthur seems to notice. The two of them were waiting for Morgause to finish whatever it is she was doing to, apparently, allow Arthur to speak to his mother.

She doesn’t take long, and though Merlin keeps his distrustful gaze on her the whole time, he still can’t quite tell what it is Morgause has done. She looks to them with a blank expression, though her focus is mainly on Arthur as she gestures him forward:

“It’s ready, Prince Arthur. Close your eyes, both of you.”

Arthur frowns briefly but does as told. Merlin raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms, and staring Morgause down; she rolls her eyes and huffs quietly when she realises that he isn’t going to take his eyes off her, but gives in, turning away and performing some sort of simple looking (though Merlin gets the distinct impression that it isn’t simple) ritual.

The Witch lets out a deep breath and steps back, and Merlin’s hard stare is finally drawn away from her when a shower of golden sparks materialises in a cloud in front of The Prince.

Arthur opens his eyes to see Igraine standing there, practically glowing, looking every bit the glorious Queen she once was. She gives him a soft smile, and Arthur can only stare, his mouth moving of it’s own accord:

“Mother?”

Merlin stares on in suspicion as Igraine’s smile grows:

“My son.”

She pulls him forward into a tight hug, and though Arthur had started off forcing himself to be wary, he falls into the hug easily, struggling to hold his tears in. They pull back after far too short of a time, and though Merlin was still distrustful, he wishes she had held Arthur just a little longer.

Merlin’s heart breaks as Arthur goes on to apologise for being born, but his feelings quickly turn to anger as Igraine explains the truth, how his people were being hunted, burned, vilified, all because Uther was too much of a hypocrite to admit his mistakes or listen to reason; but he couldn’t lash out now, this time was for Arthur, not him.

Igraine’s face falls even further, and she grips Arthur’s shoulders tightly:

“But we do not have time to talk of this, I can feel the other side pulling me back, I must be quick. Arthur, my son, you have a brother, and you must find him.”

Merlin’s eyes go wide and he tenses in place; this had better not be some twisted trick on Morgause’s part to destroy Arthur, because he would destroy her in return if it was. And he would do it in a far messier way. Arthur just looks shocked:

“A brother? How?!”

Igraine smiles mournfully:

“A twin. He was so small when he was born, I thought he wouldn’t make it, but though I can’t see his face, I know he lives, I can feel it. He had hair dark as the night sky, a complete contrast to your golden wisps-”

She lifts a soft, gentle hand, and runs it through Arthur’s hair with a smile:

“-but his eyes, oh his eyes were just as golden as your hair, before they faded to the colour of the sky.”

Arthur gasped but Merlin tensed even further, certain that this must be some sort of trick:

“He was magic?”

Igraine smiles again and nods:

“It’s not common, but not completely unheard of for people to be born magic. Your brother was, and it was beautiful.-”

He smile falls into something more angry, though she’s clearly trying to hide it:

“-Your father... did something. I do not know what; by the time my soul was restful enough to be able to look back upon the world, it was too late, he was gone somewhere I could not see. I know he still lives, your father was too much of a coward to admit his mistakes, but too much of a hypocrite to keep to his convictions and destroy the child, which I can be grateful for. I feared he had been sent far away, but you must find him, restore his heritage.”

Arthur nods vigorously, his eyes wide and desperate, and Merlin finds himself desperate to believe that this spirit is true and genuine:

“What else can you tell me about him? Do you know where he is? What he looks like now?”

Igraine’s face falls into a soft smile again, though she shakes her head mournfully:

“He is powerful, extremely so. I worried he was dead until I suddenly felt him; he appeared in Camelot, around three and a half years ago. His power is vast, I can sense it stretching for miles and miles, though I can not pinpoint the epicentre; he is somewhere within the Kingdom, you must find him.”

Merlin frowns in confusion, stepping forward to interrupt, though he desperately doesn’t want to:

“Did you name him? Your son?”

Igraine looks to him suddenly, as if she weren’t aware they had company, but quickly turns almost her full attention to Merlin with a soft smile:

“You. You looked after my boy, thank you. Thank you for all that you have done. And yes-”

She looks back to Arthur:

“-I named him, though I whispered it with my last breaths, Uther would certainly not have used it, and I do not know if Gaius heard me.”

Arthur responds quietly, his cracking voice heavy with too many emotions to name:

“What is it? What’s my... my brother’s name?”

“Myrddin.”

Merlin takes in a quiet gasp, and Arthur, always with at least one half of his brain focused on his manservant, turns to him:

“You know that name?! Merlin, do you know someone in Camelot with that name?”

Merlin just stares at Igraine, his eyes wide and his hands shaking:

“How... how do you think he got out of Camelot? How would Uther have sent him away?”

Igraine’s face is confused, but mostly curious as she takes a step towards him, still with one hand on Arthur’s shoulder:

“Gaius and Balinor possibly, perhaps Nimueh, though I imagine she fled rather quickly. They were Uther’s closest friends before the purge, and they all practised magic, they would have been... sympathetic, tried to help the child. Why? Are Arthur’s questions relevant? Do you know my son??”

Merlin’s eyes flickered between the two of them, but when Arthur says his name again, his voice nothing short of desperate, his gaze fixes on The Prince:

“Arthur, I... I never told you, because I didn’t think it was... relevant, but... Merlin isn’t my real name.”

Arthur recoils, shocked, and utters a dumbfounded “What?!”. Merlin gulps, and looks to Igraine briefly before resuming his fearful, and slightly confused, stare on Arthur:

“When I was young, my magic was still strong, but I had no control over it. I would subconsciously summon animals to my side constantly. Mostly small things, but the occasional stag or bear would wander through the village to find me. But... but what came most often where the birds; the village is essentially in the middle of a forest, and... and there were thousands of merlins. So I got that as a nickname, Merlin, and it just stuck.”

Arthur just shakes his head, caught off guard but mostly just annoyed:

“You heard my mother, Merlin, we don’t have much time, what is this-”

Merlin interrupts him:

“Just listen!! My real name.... it’s Myrddin.-”

Igraine takes in a quiet gasp, mumbling more to herself than anyone else “Gaius heard me.” but Arthur just stares. Merlin holds his gaze, but after a few moments, he looks back to Igraine:

“-My mother... she... she wouldn’t lie to me, nor would Gaius... this... it’s a mistake. It’s... it’s a common name, right?!”

Igraine responds in a hushed tone, though Arthur barely moves, still staring at Merlin as though he had gained a new head:

“Show me some magic, my boy.”

Merlin stutters and shakes his head, laughing incredulously before he notices her pleading face and looks to Arthur, almost for permission. The Prince gulps before nodding, just once, and Merlin lets out a deep breath. He holds his hand out in front of him, palm up, and without even needing to mutter a spell, a single flower grows; a Camelot-red Tulip, it’s petals dipped in gold.

When his eyes fade back to blue, he looks up to see the others’ reactions: Arthur is smiling softly, always eager to see Merlin’s magic, as if he had forgotten the situation at hand, but Igraine... oh, Igraine was staring at him with such wonder, tears slipping down her pale cheeks.

Merlin drops the flower without a second though and shakes his head minutely, but Igraine just nods, allowing the hand on Arthur’s shoulder to slip down to his hand so she could tug him forward, towards Merlin:

“Myrddin, my boy, my son. You came home all on your own.”

Merlin just shakes his head again and steps back:

“No. No this... this isn’t real, this is a trick, or... or something. How do we prove it? How do we know you’re not lying or some trap laid by Morgause?!”

Igraine sighs, but nods, understanding:

“Ask Gaius and your... your mother, and thank her for me, for raising you with so much love. The doorway is closing, I can feel it.-”

Her gaze moves lovingly between then two of them, and when she steps forward once more, she takes Merlin’s hand before he can move away, pulling the two of them into a tight hug:

“-I am so endlessly proud of you both, and I love you, always.”

She fades from the air, and within seconds Arthur’s arms are falling in on themselves, nothing under them to hold their weight and forceful pressure.

The Prince’s head whips towards Morgause, who until that point had been completely forgotten about:

“Bring her back!”

Her stare is fixed on a frozen Merlin, though she slowly looks to Arthur when he takes an intimidating step towards her and goes to open his mouth again:

“I can’t. The doorway closes of it’s own accord, I can’t bring her back again. But that was... unexpected. I apologise, you shouldn’t have had to find out like that.”

Arthur shakes his head angrily at her denial, but quickly refocuses and looks to Merlin, who still hasn’t moved an inch. He puts a soft hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly until the other man looks at him; Arthur isn’t quite sure what he was expecting, but Merlin’s eyes to be filling with tears definitely wasn’t it:

“I... this can’t be real. My mother, Gaius, Kilgharrah, they all would’ve known. Why wouldn’t they tell me?”

Arthur pulls him into a hug, silently vowing to stop Merlin’s suffering as soon as he’s possibly able, that they would discover the truth no matter what. Merlin’s arms just hang limply at his sides, though he does push his face into Arthur’s neck as The prince responds:

“I... I don’t know, Merlin. Maybe they thought it would get in the way of that destiny of yours, maybe they were waiting for my... for The King to pass.-”

He pulls back, but keeps his hands on Merlin’s shoulders:

“-Lets just... get back to Camelot, and we can figure it out. We can go downstairs to talk to Kilgharrah.”

Merlin shakes his head, stepping back and wiping his sleeve over his eyes roughly before walking purposefully towards the horses:

“No, he’s the least likely to be honest, we’ll talk to Gaius. Though if any of this is true... I’m having some bloody harsh words with my... with Hunith.”

Arthur flinches slightly at the anger in Merlin’s voice, but after a quick glance to a slowly retreating Morgause, he follows him to the horses and they start the fast paced journey back to Camelot. The only words exchanged, around an hour in, were Merlin’s quiet, humourless:

“Gwaine’s never going to believe this.”

And Arthur’s responding snort of derisive amusement.

~

They manage to stay out of sight when they arrive back in the city, which is good really. Arthur’s lowly simmering rage had been reaching taller and taller heights with every pound of the horses’ hooves against the hard ground. But before he confronts his father, they need confirmation, in the form of Gaius.

They stalk quietly through the castle, using servant corridors and hidden passages to avoid being seen, but all bets are off when they reach the Physician’s chambers.

Gaius looks up with a quiet gasp when the two men burst in, locking the door behind them. Arthur’s blank stare and Merlin’s barely concealed anger force his shock and relief to morph into confusion:

“Merlin, Prince Arthur, where on Earth have you been? The King has been panicking, sending out patrol after patrol to search for you.”

Arthur’s face remains blank, and when Gaius looks to him for an answer he just moves his gaze to Merlin, allowing him to determine the pace of this much needed conversation. Merlin’s dark gaze is now fixed on the floor, though his jaw and hands are tightly clenched, and his breathing is shaky in his anger. His voice comes out lethally quiet, and Arthur can tell that it’s only a matter of time before he explodes:

“Gaius, what’s my name?”

Gaius just looks slightly taken aback, like he hasn’t quite grasped Merlin’s meaning despite its plainness:

“My boy, whatever are you-”

He’s interrupted when Merlin looks up at him sharply, his eyes blazing and his face turning slightly red:

“It’s a simple question Gaius: What’s. My. Name?-”

Gaius’ eyes flicker to Arthur in confusion, but Merlin breaks from his near frozen stature, moving with a speed that Arthur had never seen in him before to slam his hand on the table:

“No, don’t look at him, look at me. What’s my name, Gaius?!”

Gaius nods, his eyes sad as he gulps before answering quietly:

“Myrddin, but you already knew that.”

Merlin takes a deep breath and nods, his fingers tapping rhythmically, though a tad aggressively, against the table. Arthur goes to step forward to put a calming hand on his shoulder but Merlin shoots him a withering look and he stays back. Merlin’s hard stare returns to the resigned physician:

“And my parents?”

Gaius gulps again but straightens his posture, putting up a confused façade, though it’s easy to see through:

“Hunith is your-”

Merlin slams his hand on the table again, much harder this time, and a voice in the back of Arthur’s head—the one at the forefront was spitting obscenities and planning rather gruesome ways to murder his father—makes a note to check his hand later, a hit like that had likely broken something, though Merlin was clearly too furious and confused and upset to notice:

“DON’T LIE TO ME!”

Gaius is taken aback at Merlin’s bitter yell, but he softens again at the tears on his ward’s cheeks; he collapses into a chair on the other side of the table, rubbing his eyes tiredly before looking up at the distraught man:

“Uther and Igraine Pendragon. You are a year older than your mo- than Hunith led you to believe, and you are Arthur’s twin brother.-”

Arthur turns away angrily, vocalising the curses that had been playing on a loop in his mind, and Merlin nods, pushing his injured hand into the table without even realising:

“-I am so sorry, my-”

Merlin shakes his head and holds a hand up to stop him but doesn’t say anything, not pulling away this time when Arthur steps into place beside him and puts a hand on his shoulder, waving the other one aggressively at the elderly physician:

“You had no right, no right to keep this from us. I grew up being taught to hate magic, miserable and alone, and Merlin grew up hating himself, just as miserable and alone, if not more so. You had no right to take us away from each other.-”

Gaius goes to respond, but Arthur stops his excuses before they even make it past his throat:

“-No. There is no excusing this, you and my father took my brother from me, and there will be no forgiving that. I’ve known about Merlin’s magic and our entwined destinies for over a year, you’ve had every opportunity to tell us, but you didn’t. That’s not even mentioning the nature of my... our mother’s death. You are a coward, and in your cowardice you have been cruel; I will not stand for it. Where is my- where is The King?”

Gaius nods slowly, standing on almost wobbling legs before gesturing to the door:

“The King is with Sir Leon trying to figure out where to look next, they’re in the council chamber. You are right, and I am sor-”

Arthur cuts him off with a sharp gesture and a dark look, taking Merlin’s uninjured wrist and pulling him towards the door. The servant (Prince?) follows easily, unable to meet Gaius’ gaze and allowing Arthur to drag him briskly through the corridors towards the council chamber.

By the time they reach the chamber, Merlin has broken out of his stupor, wiped his tears, and pulled his wrist from Arthur’s grip, instead walking alongside him and using just as much force when they both push the doors open and stride in.

Uther and Leon both look up rapidly, startled at the sudden intrusion, but whilst Leon looks relieved and sends the two of them a small smile, Uther looks angry:

“Arthur. Where have you been? I have had search parties out looking for you. Arthur?”

Arthur doesn’t answer for a few moments, but a glance at Merlin by his side gives him the confidence boost he needs and he straightens his back, draws his sword, and stares The King right in the eyes:

“I know what you did to my mother, and I know what you... what you took from me.”

Uther stands tall, glancing to Leon briefly as he announces:

“Leave us. No one is to enter.”

Leon looks between the three other men, but doesn’t make it to his second step towards the door before Arthur has his sword pointed at his chest, though The Prince’s gaze stays on his father. Leon knows it’s less of a genuine threat and more of a way of emphasising his words, but that doesn’t stop him from taking a slight, wary step back:

“No, Sir Leon, you will stay.”

Leon glances nervously to the red-faced King, but doesn’t move. Uther looks furious at Arthur’s denial of his orders, but The Prince pays him no mind, finally turning to look at Leon with a slightly softer look in his eyes:

“Sir Leon, do you bear witness?”

Leon frowns slightly, looking between Arthur, Uther, and Merlin once again, frown deepening as he spies the unshed tears in Merlin’s eyes and the purple bruise forming over one of his hands. He finally looks back to Arthur, moving to stand to attention with one hand held over his heart and the other resting on the hilt of his sword:

“My Lord Prince Arthur Pendragon, I, Sir Leon, bear witness.”

Uther just splutters angrily, but Leon pointedly keeps his gaze on Arthur until The Prince nods at him and is the first to look away. Merlin had stayed silent the entire time, but visibly relaxes when Leon swears to stay, and that just makes the knight even more curious; this seems to be just as much about Merlin as it did Arthur’s parents.

The Prince moves his gaze—and his sword—to be pointed at The King once more, and he takes a deep breath before forcing the words from his mouth:

“You used magic, against my mother’s will, so that you could conceive. Is this true?”

Uther huffs angrily, gaze dashing to the other two men before it settles on Arthur again:

“This is preposterous, Morgause has lied to you.”

Leon is practically holding his breath at the side of the room; he can clearly tell that Arthur is moments away from striking his own father down, but does he interfere? Does he let it happen? And he still has no clue what’s bothering Merlin so much, other than the obvious pain in his hand.

Arthur takes slow steps towards Uther, inching the blade closer and closer to his throat:

“You are the one that’s lying. You started a genocide because you insisted on blaming magic for your own mistakes, and that’s not even the worst thing you did.-”

Arthur lets out an incredulous laugh, and Uther takes a step back as Leon tenses and Merlin stays blank:

“-I had a brother, a twin born with magic. You were too much of a coward to admit your mistakes but too much of a hypocrite to stick to your convictions, so you sent him away instead of killing him.-”

Uther goes pale, taking another stumbled step back as Leon’s eyes go wide, his gaze jumping to Merlin with a sudden, dreaded clarity.

(Perhaps Leon had picked up on Merlin’s magic a few months ago, and perhaps he had come to the conclusion that the younger man was the best protector Arthur could have.)

“-Do you even know his name? Mother said you would likely refuse to use it, but do you even know what it is?!”

Uther quickly regains his anger, his fury snapping into place as he gestures threateningly and thunders:

“It was an abomination! A creature of magic that destroyed your mother and almost tainted you! I should have slaughtered it where it lay-”

Merlin takes in a sudden breath at his words and Leon clenches his jaw; itching to comfort the younger man, but knowing that he wouldn’t exactly be welcomed right now. He’s meant to be here as an impartial third party.

Arthur throws his gauntlet down before Uther can finish his aggressive assertion, and Merlin gulps, moving properly for the first time since he’d entered the room. He grabs Arthur’s arm and pulls him back slightly:

“Arthur you can’t, he’s your... he’s The King.”

Arthur glances to him:

“I don’t care, he took you from me, he had no right.-”

He looks back to Uther, who is now staring at Merlin with a shocked venom. No one notices the way Leon quietly draws his sword; impartial his arse, he’d protect Arthur and Merlin to his dying breath:

“-You are the abomination, and you will pay for your crimes. Perhaps you should’ve sent Myrddin, that’s his name by the way, further afield, perhaps I’d have been more inclined to keep you alive until I found him. Pick it up.”

Uther’s gaze doesn’t move from Merlin as his face grows redder and redder. He doesn’t look down to the gauntlet, nor does he look at Arthur, nor does he notice Leon creeping closer:

“You. You foul, hellish, beast!”

Without another second’s of hesitation, he lunges forward and draws his sword all in one move. Arthur reacts too slowly, not expecting The King to attack Merlin instead of him, and Uther pushes him out of the way, swinging the sword down harshly toward Merlin’s chest before Arthur can block him. Merlin is too shocked and angry and scared and upset to even think of using his magic, so just stumbles back helplessly, falling and landing harshly on his already broken hand, yelping slightly.

Before anyone can even blink, Leon is there, stood over Merlin with blazing eyes and his sword raised. He parries the King easily, and by the time Uther has processed one of his own knights turning against him, Merlin has scrambled back, injured arm held to his chest, and Arthur has moved to stand at Leon’s side, sword raised.

Uther can only stare in furious bewilderment, but it doesn’t take him long to concede that he has been outmatched. He calls for the guards, though once they’ve spilled into the room, six in total, they stutter to a confused stop when they see The Prince and The First Knight seemingly defending a servant (a well-loved, well-known servant), from The King.

Arthur, without looking away from Uther, speaks harshly, his voice controlled and forceful and, frankly, Kingly:

“Arrest The King and escort him to his rooms. Remove all weapons and bar the windows and doors, I want him under constant guard.”

Uther screeches angrily, both at Arthur’s words and the fact that the guards make no moves to detain The Prince and the knight, like he clearly wants. Before he can actually say anything, Arthur speaks again, his voice even louder than before, first to the guards:

“NOW!-”

And then back to Uther:

“-You will either be arrested for your crimes, both against our family name and humanity as a whole, or I will kill you where you stand.”

Uther tries his best to stare Arthur down, but there really is no competing with the fire in his eyes, and it only takes one short nod from Leon for the guards to step forward and confiscate The King’s sword before they pull his arms around his back and push him towards the door. He digs his heels in and begins screeching again, though they can only make out the odd word, it’s mostly just “BETRAYAL!” and “SORCERY!” and “HOW DARE YOU!”. Arthur pulls Merlin to his feet gently, frowning at his purple wrist and knuckles before sighing and rolling his eyes, nodding to Uther and muttering, just loud enough for Merlin and Leon to hear:

“I don’t suppose you could do something about that, could you?”

Merlin looks shocked, but huffs out a gentle laugh when Arthur just raises his eyebrow in question. He looks to Uther just as the guards struggle to open the door, muttering a quiet spell under his breath, his eyes flashing golden. Leon takes in a slow breath at the obvious display of sorcery; he’d been constantly on edge since he discovered Merlin’s talent, desperately fearful that someone would find out. Thankfully, the guards are entirely focused on the task at hand.

Uther quickly goes quiet, his head drooping, and Arthur grimaces as the guards struggle to hold his sudden dead weight. He has to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing aloud when they turn to him with questioning looks; he just nods and gestures regally for them to keep going.

Soon, the room is quiet again, only the three men remaining. Leon looks between them apprehensively but Arthur just takes a fortifying breath before focusing his attention on Merlin’s arm, holding it gently in front of him and frowning worriedly:

“I’m guessing you haven’t gotten any better at healing magic since the arrow incident?”

Merlin scoffs and rolls his eyes:

“That wasn’t my fault, you’re the one that yanked it out of my shoulder and left the damn head in. And for your information, yes actually, I’ve been practicing. But I really think we have more important things to deal with at the moment, like the fact that the council is going to freak out when they find out you had The King arrested.”

Arthur shakes his head, giving Merlin a firm look:

“Merls, I just found out that you’re my twin brother, you are the important thing right now. Heal your hand, I don’t care how long it takes. Leon will take care of the council until we get there.”

He looks pointedly to Leon, and the knight nods, clearing his throat with a confused frown as he replies:

“What... uh... what would you like me to tell them, My Lord? Before your arrival? And where would you like them?”

Arthur smiles, grateful that Leon knows to take cues from him, knows what to focus on, knows that he is being trusted:

“Take them to the Throne Room. Tell them that Uther has been forcibly removed from the throne, that I have discovered the existence of my magical twin brother, whom I intend to have announced as Crown Prince within the week, and that I plan to legalise magic.”

Merlin, already pale and shaky, flinches, starting up with a “But I don’t want-” but Arthur cuts him off with a harsh, though fond glare, looking back to Leon to see the knight’s face shocked and pale. He purses his lips, before humming thoughtfully and speaking again:

“Actually... that probably wouldn’t be for the best. Just inform them that it’s an emergency, reassure them we haven’t started a war or anything, and tell them I’ll be arriving shortly.”

Leon visibly relaxes and nods, giving Merlin a soft smile and ruffling his hair quickly before striding from the room. Merlin huffs at the affection, but Arthur can tell he’s secretly pleased and copies Leon’s fond smile. Merlin looks to him confusedly:

“Why will the council have to wait? It’ll only take a few moments to heal myself.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow, nodding at Merlin’s hand pointedly and crossing his arms as if he were expecting failure. Merlin just rolls his eyes before looking down to his injury and muttering a few words, grimacing as his knuckles realign, and the bruise recedes. It doesn’t disappear completely, but the bones and deeper muscle tears have obviously repaired themselves, and Merlin looks very proud of himself as he looks back to Arthur:

“That’s the best I can be bothered to manage-”

Arthur huffs disapprovingly but knows he isn’t going to get any better than that:

“-so why are the council waiting?”

Arthur sighs, putting a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and leading him to the door:

“Well, you look one stiff breeze away from keeling over, and I imagine you’ll want to speak to Gwaine?”

Merlin looks to him suspiciously, but allows Arthur to lead him through the castle towards where Gwaine was almost certainly pacing worriedly in his rooms:

“I thought you didn’t approve of Gwaine?”

Arthur grins wolfishly:

“Oh, I don’t, especially now that I know that you’re a Prince, and my brother, but it’s my duty as the oldest to threaten him more than I already have.”

Merlin stops suddenly in the corridor and pulls Arthur back:

“Hang on a minute you prat, first off, when have you ever threatened Gwaine? And second, who said you’re the oldest?”

Arthur’s smile just grows and he grabs Merlin’s uninjured wrist to start pulling him down the corridor again:

“Literally the day I found out he was attempting to court you, which was about a month before you figured it out by the way,-”

Merlin grumbles, but doesn’t argue:

“-and I’m the oldest because I said so, and mother said naming you was... was one of the last things she did, so you obviously came out second, idiot.”

Merlin rolls his eyes yet again, but doesn’t say anything as they come to a stop outside of Gwaine’s room. He takes a deep breath, and Arthur moves his hand up to his shoulder again, giving him a small smile and a supportive nod. 

The Warlock knocks on the door, and Gwaine opens immediately. The knight relaxes significantly when he sees that it’s the two of them back from God knows where, though he tenses again as his eyes run over them; he takes note of Merlin’s red eyes, injured wrist, and generally shaky demeanour. He also quickly catches on to the protective way Arthur is standing behind him, and the way The Prince’s loose hand shakes slightly with left over adrenaline.

Despite himself, Merlin relaxes and smiles when he sees Gwaine; with everything that had been going on he hadn’t really had a chance to think about how much he missed him, about how much he needed his support.

Gwaine pulls them into the room quickly, shutting the door behind him and turning around to see Merlin looking at him sheepishly, and Arthur staring at him with a predatory smile:

“What happened? Where have you been? Is everything ok?!”

~

End of Part 1!!

Hope y’all enjoyed this!! I probably could’ve fitted more in, but I figured this was a good point to stop. Part 2 and 3 are out (link @ top), part 4 won’t be too long!!

Drop comments and things lads, I love y’all!!

[forsakenmis]

After the snap

Summary: Wanda was snapped away. You, on the other hand, remained and had moved on. You moved out of the country, started a new job, and had even gone on a few dates. Then everyone came back and suddenly a familiar witch was knocking on your workplace door.

Pairings: Top!Wanda x Reader

Warnings: dark!wanda, oral (r receiving), strap, public sex, posessive wanda, mummy kink

You’d long put away the shield (so to speak) and were at a point that going back to everyone just seemed so jarring. Maybe you didn’t want to believe it wasn’t true. After five years of grieving, of building a new life, and suddenly everyone’s just….back.

Wanda was back.

You knew it was wrong to have not contacted her. For her, it must seem like yesterday that you were whispering your plans about eloping, but that was five years ago. You moved on. Found someone else. She was nice, sweet, normal. She worked as a custom officer but she could spend hours and hours talking about all these topics that fascinated you.

She also was very predictable and normal.

Admittedly, your relationship hadn’t quite been defined. You suspected she was seeing other people, keeping her options open, and you weren’t sure how long you two were going to last but you were enjoying the time that you had together.

On top of that, you had a job at a bookstore that paid your rent. Sure, it wasn’t as flashy as it was back then but you liked being surrounded by all the books, some new and some falling apart. You spent a lot of pride restoring the latter in the back. You never had much of a chance to read before everything happened, your life was mostly spent trying to make sure everyone didn’t die.

Your abilities were healing based and that was more useful than you had initially thought when you first met them all. In fact, you thought you were awfully inadequate compared to people like Steve Rogers, Thor and Wanda Maximoff. But your time was kept filled to the brim.

Your only time to relax was your time with Wanda.

It had started off innocent enough. She used to stay with you after you finished up in the medic bay. She’d have dinner with you. Admittedly, you were pretty sure she didn’t have many other friends in the complex. Then it grew until she was fucking you every chance she could get. How else would either of you relax?

But that was a long time ago. You were done with that life. You weren’t the same person anymore. You ran and started a new life and not even the idea of Wanda could make you go back and maybe she was just that–an idea.

You were confident none of them would find you. Natasha couldn’t. You knew she had been trying to track you down like she had for Clint but no one came knocking on your door. So if they couldn’t, you were pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to find you either.

You’d just closed shop, the sunset streaming through the shutters covering the windows, and were taking stock. It had been a quiet day, but it was always quiet on a Tuesday so you had easily reached the predicted quota. The one downside was your boss, but he was only around once a week.

He was the kid of some millionaire who was trying to be hip and all that. So he opened some urban bookstore but he was too busy partying to actually stay on top of the business. Which is fine-you liked that arrangement. You’ll keep the shop running and he’ll never be up in your business. It worked without a bump in the road.

You were nearly done for the day, all you had to do after was–

The bell attached to the door trinkled. Someone had walked in. It was nearly half past, well past closing, so surely your boss would understand if you told whoever it is to leave. You were behind the shelves, you couldn’t see who had walked in. They weren’t making a lot of noise. Some people just had that soft touch, usually women.

Coming out to the front, your mouth already opening to ask them to leave, your words died in your throat.

Wanda.

Your eyes were frozen on her face, her eyes, those big doe eyes that always drew you in. She was smiling, an expression full of relief, and she was taking you in, grazing your body, before she moved forward to close the distance.

You stepped back.

Frozen with the air changing. Heavier, like you could feel the gravity pulling you down. Her light, happy, expression melted off and confusion replaced it.

“Wanda,” you said, wanting to cut her off, you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t listen to her. She’d want you to come back. Five years for you, a few days for her. “You shouldn’t be here.”

You may as well have slapped her.

“Shouldn’t be here?” Wanda repeated and you closed your eyes. For the first time in years, you heard her voice. That voice that whispered to you in your dreams. A voice you thought you could hear every time you were alone. “I think I’m exactly where I need to be.”

When you opened your eyes again, you jumped, she was right there. You didn’t even hear her footsteps. “Wan–” you began but then her lips were on yours, her tongue sliding into your open mouth and you grunted in shock. You didn’t kiss back but you didn’t push her off either. You froze. You let her tongue be pushed down your throat as her hands slid onto your cheeks.

Her thumbs beginning to rub small circles into your skin pushed you back into action, your hands going to hips to shove her off you hard enough that she stumbled back a few steps.

“Wanda, I can’t,” you hissed out. “It’s been five years. I…”

“Why aren’t you happy then?” Wanda asked, bewilderment splashed across her face and almost instantly did guilt wash through you. Like you were betraying her somehow. “I was gone for five years, and now I’m back. Why didn’t you come back? Surely, you didn’t move on that easily?”

With that, the guilt was gone.

“Easily?” You hissed out, your hands balling into fists, “don’t come into my shop and–”

You stopped. It was no use getting angry. Your sentences always fumbled into one elongated word that no one could ever understand. “You have no idea what the five years have been like,” you snapped and she tilted her head, just slightly, but enough that a cold chill went down your spine. “You shouldn’t have looked for me. I’m not interested in going back to the avengers. I moved on.”

With that, you turned on your heel to go behind the desk, tapping away at the register. Maybe if you ignored her, she’d get the hint and leave.

“So you developed an attitude?” Wanda remarked and slid her hands into the woollen cardigan that...you knitted her. You frowned when you made the connection. You spent hours labouring away at it. It wasn’t that good, the colours were awful, but she rarely took it off. “Seems we have to start at square one again.”

You frowned. You seem to be doing that a lot. You could already see the wrinkles beginning to form on your forehead. Why wasn’t she listening to you? “I’m seeing someone,” you blurted out as the cash register popped open loudly and Wanda’s face went blank as she registered what you just said. “A girl. She’s nice.”

You weren’t sure if you just signed this girl’s death certificate.

You kept eye contact with the Sokovian and even when her face morphed into a cold fury you hadn’t seen since the civil war. Her expression was tight and it almost looked like she was trying to hold herself back.

“I see.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered after a moment, “I...I know this can’t be easy for you either. I know it must seem like last week that...well. You know. I just...that life is over, for me at least. I hope you can understand.”

Wanda was silent. She was being too silent. She didn’t say anything, she stood there watching you, and you were too nervous to say anything else or make the next move. Maybe, hopefully, Wanda wouldn’t even say anything else, just walk out. Resent you for the rest of her life. It was better that way.

Instead she walked around the register and your heart dropped to your stomach.

“Wanda-”

“Shut up,” she hissed, her hand whipping up to grab your jaw. Your hands shot up to her wrists and she dragged you forward, closer to her face. “Do you really think I’d let you give up on us this easily? That I’d let you whore yourself out to some girl off the street?”

You didn’t say anything but your glare said enough.

“I trained you so well. I spent years breaking you in, years loving you, and you treat me like this? Like I’m just some common bitch you can throw onto the street?” Wanda’s tone didn’t match her words. Her tone was soft, almost a coo, sounding more disappointed than angry. You almost wished she was more angry than disappointed.

Her lips were on yours again and her hand moved to the back of your head, her teeth biting down into your lips and you groaned at the sharp pain, giving her entrance back into your mouth.

A hand went down between your legs, rubbing, and you instinctively opened your legs. Your body remembered her. Remembered her scent. Everything.

Wanda hummed in approval and soon you were being pushed onto the counter. She broke the kiss, pulling back to look down at you, her hands beginning to rub the inside of your thighs. “Just one night,” she whispered, her expression already having smoothed out, as if that kiss, your touch, was all she needed. “One night with me and if you still want me to leave by the end of the night...well, I’ll leave you alone. Forever. Even if you change your mind. Even if you come crawling back, begging.”

You doubted her. Something in the back of your mind didn’t believe her. On anything. You were pretty sure she wanted you to beg. Your hands were shaking and you gulped. Everything about this reminded you of when you were last happy. Like you were back in the avengers tower where nothing was going wrong.

Her lips were on yours again and her hands soon began to pull at your skirt, ripping them off you with ease, to find nothing but your bare cunt for anyone to see. You jerked up when her hand slammed against it, slapping it. Once, twice, three times, four. “You dirty little whore,” she whispered, “you let anyone and everyone see this, didn’t you?” She slid a finger into your folds and your bottom lip trembled.

“Wanda…” you whispered, feeling your own walls beginning to crumble. Maybe one night wasn’t so bad. One night. One indulgence.

“It’s mine tonight,” Wanda confirmed before suddenly her hands were on your waist and flipped you around and your stomach slapped onto the desk, taking away your breath, leaving you gasping. “You said I didn’t know what happened. In the past five years. You’re right, I don’t, but you’re going to tell me. Tell me everything I missed. If you leave anything out, and I know when you do sweetheart, I’ll stop. Understand me?”

“Yes,” you breathed out as you felt her mouth in between your legs, her tongue lapping at your clit and your back arched as you tried to push more of yourself into her. Soon, it started spilling out. What you did the first few months, how you struggled to get out of bed, how you travelled the world. Therapy. Everything. Her tongue didn’t stop, in fact the more you spilt, her tongue sped up, making you wetter and wetter by the second. “I couldn’t get you out of my head,” you mumbled by the end of it, “I found her. She was everything you weren’t. Mundane. Boring.”

Your stomach was tightening, that tempting release building and building, so expertly brought on by the way Wanda devoured you, the way she breathed onto your throbbing clit, the way her tongue teased your gaping entrance. When you stopped, she pulled away and you bit down onto your bottom lip to stop yourself from cursing.

“Such a good little whore for me,” Wanda purred, her hand falling in between your slit to rub your clit and the moan that left your mouth sacrificed any and all self respect that you might have been clinging onto. “This is where you belong isn’t it? Bent over for mummy. I treat you so well, don’t I?”

Two fingers dipped into your already gaping entrance pushing them in and out. “I think you deserve a little reward,” Wanda hummed out, “for being so honest with mummy.”

You didn’t have much long to prepare before you felt a strap push into your entrance and you gasped in a sharp breath, your eyes bulging and your body pressed forward. Wanda didn’t push into you completely, only pushed the tip in and out, focussing on the one area.

In truth, that was worse than if she shoved into you completely. You were forced to focus on that one area, not get that relief if she were to push in deeper, and it was as if she was grabbing at every inch of your mind, forcing you to feel nothing but that tip dipping in and out of your body.

“Tell me…” she whispered, her hands coming onto your waist to grip them, nails digging into your skin, “tell me where you belong, baby girl. Who you belong to. Look at you, five years without me and you still get so wet for me. I go in so easily. Don’t worry, baby, I’m not going to leave you again.”

“W-w-” you choked out and you took in a breath, trying to contain the moans slipping out of your mouth, “you said one–”

Her hand slammed down onto your bare ass and you jerked forward. Still, she didn’t go deeper, didn’t give you what you wanted. Still, you didn’t verbalise this. Your skin was stinging and your fingers reached up to hang onto the edge of the desk.

“Answer my question, don’t make me treat you like a common whore,” Wanda hissed, pulling out completely just to thrust back in, shoving more of the shaft inside of you, ripping your walls open, but then she pulled back to just the tip again.

Then the doorbell rang again and it was as if someone poured a bucket of ice cold water all over your body. Your vision was already blurring by this point but you could see her outline, the blonde hair, standing at the door.

Wanda slammed into you, bottoming out, and a scream shot out of your lips, whilst her hands were in your hair, pulling your head back until your neck was straining. She could see your face, see every expression you pulled as Wanda began to fuck you without restraint.

“If I were you,” Wanda’s voice broke through your moans and screams, icy cold and calm despite the way she was beginning to thrust inside of you, “I’d leave and never come back. If you knew what was good for you, you’d wipe my girl from everything. Phone, address, memories.”

You couldn’t hear what she said, you could hear her voice, but unlike Wanda, it was all a garbled mess. Even in this state, Wanda’s words were in absolute clarity. You watched her leave. The door clicked shut and you swore you could see red mist at the door, locking it.

Wanda bent over you, pressing down onto your back, lips pressing against your neck, sucking and nipping, her hips still pushing inside of you, pushing you closer and closer to an orgasm that was tightening at the base of your stomach.

Then her movements slowed until she was completely still, her strap still inside of you, your walls wrapped around it, clinging to it.

“Much better, just us,” Wanda whispered as she nipped at your earlobe and you moaned. “You take my cock so well, don’t you? No, I couldn’t dream of letting you go, not when you’re such a good girl for me. I’ll take you with me and I’ll give you the life you want. A normal life, where no one will ever hurt you. You can read all you want. Forget the world outside. Just us two, together.”

“Mummy,” you whispered and you could feel her body vibrate as she hummed in approval. “Mummy, please.”

“Tell me where you belong,” she whispered back as she began to move her hips again.

“With you, mummy, under you. I missed you so much,” you whispered, “I belong to you. I always have.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know you did,” Wanda whispered before she stretched up and her hands went to your elbows, pulling you up from the table before she began to rail you. Sharp thrusts, slamming into you again and again, and tears began to burn the back of your eyes as pleasure began to roll through you. “You're going to cum for me like a good girl. Then you’re going to lie on this table to wait as I go pack your bags. You live above this, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, mummy,” you choked out as your orgasm was already threatening to flow through you. You could feel your own juices dripping down your thighs and you knew that your boss would be walking in to find an absolute mess.

“And then we’ll leave. Together.”

“Together.”

It wasn’t long until you felt like you were choking on your breath, your stomach twisting and churning, your legs trembling, and it was Wanda keeping you up. Otherwise, you would have collapsed onto the table, even the ground.

Soon, you felt it. Felt that blissful euphoria that often put you to sleep wash over you in intense waves that made your toes curl. Wanda was laughing, quietly, as she felt you come undone around her strap. “That’s it, baby girl, let it all go. Good little whore.”

She slid out of you with a pop and you groaned, the disappearing sensation already sorely missed. “Mummy, please, I still need you…” you mumbled, your words drowsy and reality was folding inwards around you as you felt your body hit the table again.

“I’ll be back, in just a moment,” Wanda whispered into your ear before her warmth disappeared and you could hear her moving through the store and up the creaky stairwell. Then your eyes slid open and you took in a deep breath as you began to move. Pushed off the desk, your legs sore and shaky but stable, and you looked for the skirt, long discarded. You knew you only had a small amount of time before she realised or, god forbid, heard you. Pulling the skirt up you grabbed only your wallet, didn’t even dare grab your phone and risk being tracked. You can get a burner if need be. You knew it’d be difficult, if she found you here, then she’d be able to find you wherever you went but...maybe she’ll give up.

You didn’t go through the front door, not with the bell, but there was a small door leading out to the back. Your footsteps were silent as could be, and your heart was beating in your chest. One wrong step and she could hear you. You could hear the banging doors, even her humming, but she didn’t stop.

Soon, you were in the back alley, with nothing but overflowing bins and a motorbike there. Yours. The only thing you kept from Stark. Faster than anything you could buy in a store. You hated riding with a skirt, let alone with these shoes, but what choice did you have?

You only had so much time to run.

[randomshyperson]

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - Chapter 11 - Part XI - The Sixth Year (Part One)

gif was made by @abimess

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies. Chapter Warnings: Mentions of PTSD, minor kissing.

A/N> In the previous chapter I said that maybe I would put the fic in Hiatus, and on Saturday I managed to write four chapters. So I believe I'll be able to finish everything by next weekend. Good reading everyone.

Series Masterlist ||  Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Part XI - The Sixth Year (Part One)

Everything is different now.

You can feel it in your bones. You can feel it in the air, in the room, in the way your butler won't leave the radio playing on the kitchen counter because the music has been replaced by news of disappearances all over the magical and non-magical community.

Even now, sitting at the kitchen table while everyone is eating their breakfast beside you, you find it hard to relax. Jarvis doesn't have to turn the radio back on for you to know how things are going on outside the protected gardens of the Stark mansion.

"I've already prepared the fireplace, Mister Tony." Announced Jarvis next, his hands on his back. Your brother murmured, still in the middle of sipping his coffee.

"Thank you, Jarvis." He then spoke, placing the cup on the table. "I'm expecting mail, if Iron comes back with anything, save it for me okay?"

"Of course, Mr. Tony."

"Jarvis?" You called out before your butler returned to the kitchen. He looked gently at you. "Aren't you going to have breakfast with us?"

The man hesitated, straightening his suit vest slightly.

"I've already eaten, miss. But I appreciate the invitation." He says making mention of turning around, you add quickly.

"Where are you going?"

There it is again. The tension you have noticed since you returned from the hospital. Caught in the way Jarvis looks quickly at Tony and your sisters before a smile that doesn't reach his eyes forms. He clears his throat lightly.

"I have my chores, miss." He answers politely. "Nothing you need to worry about."

"Is the order, isn't it?"

As soon as the words escape, silence falls on the table. Gamora stops stirring her tea in mid-motion, but you keep your gaze on Jarvis.

"Miss Stark, please, I mustn't be late." He insists and you sigh, nodding. Jarvis walks away, but the table remains silent. You have your fists clenched in your lap, waiting.

And realizing that just as before, when you began to notice the rushed exits, the whispers, the locked doors, and the hiding spells, you realized that none of your siblings would say anything.

So you rolled your eyes and stood up, throwing your napkin on the table and walking out of the kitchen with hard steps.

Tony called out to you, but you ignored him. Gamora reached you when you were already in your room.

"If you've come to tell me there's nothing going on, you can leave." You let her know sitting up in your bed, your mind working on theories. Gamora sighed lightly.

"I'm not." She says as she moves closer to sit beside you. "But I can't tell you everything either."

"All summer, Gamora." You begin. "All summer you guys have been keeping secrets from me. And damn it, I've done it for a long time, and I understand. But I thought...I thought after last year, things were going to change. Everybody knows about the prophecy, and I'm still dealing with it alone."

"You are not alone." She retorts as she straightens up in bed, turning her body toward you, but you continue to stare at your lap. "You're not. We're just trying to protect you."

You give a short laugh.

"I'm not, really, you're right." You sneer bitterly. "I only have Wanda and she is more than enough."

Gamora sighs, but does not contradict you. You stand up looking for a change of clothes.

"Are you going to her house again?" Gamora asks as she sees you rummaging through the closets. You don't face her to speak.

"I don't get lied to in the Maximoff residence."

Gamora rolls her eyes.

"You've barely stayed home this summer." She complains. "We've missed you."

"Ironic you say that since when I am here you guys are having secret meetings without me." You retorted angrily, putting your pajama set into a backpack.

“Y/N…” she starts but doesn't continue. You feel frustrated and impatient, and you roll your eyes at her lack of honesty.

"See you tomorrow." You say before leaving with the backpack.

You went straight to the living room, and ignoring the questioning look from Tony and Nebula at the kitchen table, you made your way to the fireplace.

Before you used the floo powder, Tony was calling you.

"You know you still leave here, right?" He quipped, and you resisted the urge to start a fight.

You stumbled into the fireplace, the magic dust in your hands. Within seconds, you were in the living room of Maximoff Residence.

"Wanda, your girlfriend is here!" Pietro yelled as he turned his attention to the pages."Again." He muttered softly making you giggle as you walked out of their fireplace.

You stepped closer only to shove the magazine he was holding to his face in a childish act and ignore his irritated grunt as you kicked off your shoes, knowing Erik hated getting his carpet dirty.

You had gotten quite comfortable at Maximoff Residence this summer. After St.Mungus, you and Wanda have been spending a lot of time together.

Part of you knows it's because you've been kept out of order, and it's created a nervous tension between you and your siblings, Wanda's house being the only place where no one seems to keep things from you.

Your thoughts were interrupted by your girlfriend's sudden presence in the room, and you had two seconds to smile at her before Wanda steps forward from the hallway towards you, her arms around your neck in a tight hug. You felt your face heat up, but soon she was pulling away to place several kisses on your cheeks, making you giggle shyly as Pietro mimicked vomiting noises.

"My god, it's ten in the morning." He complained while getting up, but you ignored it, your hands rubbing Wanda's back as you looked at her adoringly.

"Good morning my love." You greeted her.

"Good morning sweetheart" She replied, looking at you the same way. "To what do I owe this wonderful visit?"

"I missed you."

"I missed y..."

"This is too gay for ten in the morning." Pietro complained loudly again, now walking past you into the hallway and turning into the kitchen as you and Wanda giggled.

“"Have you had breakfast yet?" She asked, bringing her hands to your cheeks, caressing your skin.

You mumbled yes, omitting the part that your meal was interrupted by a little argument to steal a peck from Wanda, who bit her lip when you moved away.

She turned her head to look down the hall for a second and then moved forward, kissing you firmly this time. You smiled against her lips, melting as her hand gently scratched the back of your neck.

She pulled back a moment later, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

"Come say good morning to my dad before he comes to get you himself." She asked as she pulled away, her hand intertwining with yours to pull you towards the kitchen.

As soon as Erik saw you, he put the paper down on the table and smiled, waving for you to sit down, and you did it shyly, Wanda following you.

"It's good to see you, Miss Stark." He says. "Hope everything is alright at home?"

"Probably not since she's always here now." Pietro scoffs before you respond and lets out an exclamation of pain when Wanda hits him in the head with a small wave of energy. Erik shoots her a disapproving look but says nothing.

You get caught up in small talk while you eat together, and you're more aware of Wanda's presence than anything else, but Erik calls to you.

"Will you join us in the diagonal alley?" he asks curiously and you bite the inside of your cheek, uncertain.

"Actually, Tony asked me not to go out in public." You say. "Because of everything that's going on."

"Oh yes I understand." Erik says thoughtfully. "I was in the alley last week, and most of the stores are closed. People are scared, and crime increased considerably with the return of the walkers."

The mood at the table changes, but you feel your body relax with Wanda's hand on your knee.

"What has the order done about it, sir?" You ask and Erik frowns slightly in surprise.

"Forgive me Miss Stark, I assumed your brother was telling you about the delicate situation the order is in, so I didn't mention anything." He says and straightens his posture in the chair. "We believe there is a traitor among us."

You look at him in surprise, as do his children. Erik takes a deep breath.

"Of course any of you shouldn't worry about that." He says. "That's a matter for the members."

"Fury recruited my brother, sir?" You question and Erik hesitates, then nods. You feel your stomach sink. Tony didn't tell you about it. "And my sisters?"

"No. Not them." He quickly denies it. "We voted to add new members, and it needs to be a unanimous decision. I don't approve of adding children to order."

"But you approve Tony?" You accuse with a frown.

"Your brother is of legal age, Miss Stark." He argues. "He is a powerful, resourceful, and talented wizard. He has the right to fight if he wishes."

"He's only two years older than me." You retort. "I don't want him to be in danger."

"He insisted." Erik tells you. "He insisted because he wants to protect you. I had my doubts about that, due to his age, but he asked for my vote. He wants to help."

You swallow the urge to cry, absorbing the teacher's words.

"Jarvis too, right?" You ask and Erik takes a sip of coffee before answering.

"I must not share the order's membership list." He comments lightly jokingly, but you grimace. Erik sighs. "We are trying to keep it as a secret as much information as possible. The situation is too tense with the ministry, and with so many attacks, we are not knowing who to trust."

"You haven't said anything about this all summer, papa." Pietro comments thoughtfully. "Why now?"

Erik swallows hard, putting the mug down on the table.

"Because Wanda is going to Hogwarts next week, and I won't be there to keep her safe."

You can feel Wanda's surprise and anxiety mix with yours, and your hand rests in hers on your knee.

"What are you talking about?" Wanda questions and Erik takes a deep breath.

"I will not be returning to the castle this year." He says. "The ministry ordered my removal."

"What?" The three of you exclaimed together and Erik gestured lightly for you to calm down.

"There are many rumors about the Ministry of Magic's involvement in the rise of Mephisto. The facilities that were granted to the walkers, in addition to the encouragement of the propaganda of purity of blood." He counts. "What happened at the ministry, with you two, created quite a problem for the minister. He can't blame Harkness because she disappeared, but it was only a matter of time before he found out that I was the one who recommended the special classes with her."

"But you were helping us!" You exclaimed indignantly. "And you're on the side of order!"

"Exactly, Miss Stark." He says. "I'm afraid the minister's interest is just that. To remove all members of the order from the castle."

"Papa, what will happen to you?" Pietro asks worriedly, but Erik smiles, giving him a reassuring look.

"Do not worry." He says. "They'll do an investigation, and the minister will prolong my removal as long as he can. In the meantime I'll help the order. Our priority is to finish off Mephisto's brute strength before he regains all his followers."

"What will happen at the castle this year?" Pietro questions worriedly, and you and Wanda share his expression. Erik taps his fingers on the table lightly.

"I have my suspicions, but all the possibilities are bad." He declares. "But Wanda will have professor Stephen and Maria there. Don't hesitate to reach out for them."

"That's not very comforting." Pietro mutters and Erik flashes his son a sad smile.

"But I guarantee that whatever happens at Hogwarts, it will be better than the outside." He says. "None of you have experienced a wizarding war before.Believe me when I say that the backyards of the school are safer, no matter how awful they seem to be."

Pietro sighs.

"I am worried, Papa." He says. "Wanda will be there alone."

You frown. "Hey!"

Pietro gives a short smile. "You know what I meant." He clarifies. "I won't be there, and neither will you. I don't understand why she can't stay home."

"Because it's more dangerous here." He comments. "The only reason you're not coming back to the castle is because of your small act last year, Pietro."

Pietro looks away, grimacing at Erik's disapproving tone. All the times you've been here, the topic of Pietro dropping out of school always made Erik grumpy and created a nervous tension between him and his son.

Erik clears his throat.

"Since you have decided that you will not become a competent wizard, I expect you to help me during this period." Erik declares causing you and Wanda to exchange a look, uncertain about getting into the conversation. Pietro rolls his eyes. "I'm sure your Aunt Raven has some task to keep you busy."

"Of course, papa." Pietro mumbles wryly, laying his face in his arms on the table.

Erik sighs before turning his gaze back to Wanda and you.

"We may be at war now, but your education is still important, my dear." He says. "I wanted to make sure you got your N.E.W.T. We're going to need good witches for when this is all over."

Wanda smiled shyly, and you fell silent again. Your head was a mess, millions of possibilities about the next year flashing by and noticing your nervousness, Wanda excused herself to the table, and led you by the hand out of the kitchen.

She smiled at you in the hallway, but only stopped walking when you two reached her room.

"You're nervous." She commented as she gently pushed you onto her bed.

You sat down, and Wanda settled into your lap, your hands automatically going to her waist as she hugged you. You sank your face into her neck, breathing in her perfume deeply and feeling your whole body relax at once, becoming slightly dizzy with how comfortable you felt.

"I love you." You whispered against her skin, and Wanda pressed you tighter against her, making you fall back against the mattress with a giggle. With her lack of response, you began to caress her back, feeling her breath against your neck.

When she pulled away, she got off you, throwing herself on the bed next while biting back a smile.

"What?" you asked, curious by her expression. She shook her head slightly, her cheeks flushed.

"I just think I have never felt as happy as I do when I am with you."

You smile at the confession, feeling your heart race as you turn your body toward her, resting your face in your hand and your elbow on the bed.

Your fingers come up to her face, brushing her hair out of her eyes to place behind her ear, as she looks at you adoringly.

"What am I going to do without you next year, huh?" you ask, causing her to giggle a little, as she reached up to rest her hand on your waist.

"Do you think we'll be able to talk through thoughts by then?" She jokes putting on a mock expression, making you laugh.

"I wish I had that now, so you could help me with my exams." You retort in the same tone, making Wanda laugh.

"I can help you with some actual studying for your exams." She suggests and you raise an eyebrow.

"Oh, yes, because study sessions work out very well for us, don't they, Miss wandering hands?" You tease and Wanda smiles mischievously bringing your faces closer together.

"It's not my fault you're irresistible." She whispers before kissing your lips softly. You both sigh, but just as you go to deepen the kiss, Pietro is entering the room and Wanda lets out a grumble as she pulls away and sits on the bed.

“Can I help you Pietro?” Wanda asks impatiently.

"Can you let go of your girlfriend for a second to talk to your brother?" He teases causing Wanda to roll her eyes, but you giggle, settling comfortably on the bed. "I need to tell you both something."

"Then stop the suspense and just tell us." You grumble, wishing you would go back to kissing Wanda.

Pietro checks the hallway, then closes the bedroom door. You and Wanda frown.

"I think there's something important going on in the order." He declares. "But I have no idea what it is."

"That's not very reassuring." Wanda mocks making you laugh and Pietro grimaces. " What gave you this idea anyway?"

"Dad's been getting owls." He counters. "You haven't noticed anything strange because you're making out all the time."

"Jealous." Wanda teases, making you laugh, but Pietro rolls his eyes sighing impatiently.

"Yeah, yeah, you guys are cute and all, but you don't seem to be noticing the rest of the world." He complains, crossing his arms. "We have a war going on and all you girls are doing is kissing each other."

Wanda sighs, getting up.

"And we'd like to get back to that, so you can leave." She complained pushing her brother by the shoulders, while you laughed at the indignant expression he made while complaining that that was an important matter.

Wanda ushered him out, and locked the door, turning to you with a mischievous grin.

"Where were we?" She asked as she approached, and all you did was open your arms for her to jump into your lap again.

You knew that this was indeed an important matter, but you couldn't focus on much else as you had Wanda on your lap kissing your mouth eagerly, her tongue sliding into yours as her hands squeezed your shoulders gently.

You kissed so many times that summer, but it seemed to get better, and more and more addictive. You had no idea if it was because you were connected to her, or if it was because you were in love, but either way, you didn't want to stop.

But then the door was opening again, and Wanda let out a grumble as she jumped away from your lap, trying to disguise her smudged lipstick and swollen lips.

"Girls, you know the rules." Erik warned with a serious tone. "The door must always stay open."

"Yes, sir." You and Wanda muttered breathlessly, and Erik rolled his eyes before leaving. When his footsteps became distant, you and Wanda began to giggle, and you fell beside her on the bed, both of you trying to normalize your breathing and disguise how affected you were by the little make-out session.

In the silence, Wanda intertwined your hands together, but you both continued to stare at the ceiling.

"Do...do you think Pietro might be right?" Wanda asked next, her voice low. You shifted your gaze to her, waiting for her to clarify. Wanda swallowed dryly before doing so. "About this. About us not paying attention to the war or anything else. I just...I'm afraid he's right."

You straightened to turn your body toward her properly, resting your head on the hand of the arm that you popped your elbow on the mattress. Wanda copied your movement, and you smiled at her as you moved your fingers up to caress her face.

"I think it's unfair for Pietro to say that." You say. "Every time I've tried to bring up order, war, or anything related to that, I've been called a child. So I think it's unfair that just because I'm focusing on the most important part of my life I get called out for it."

Wanda's eyes widened slightly, her cheeks flushed.

"You think I'm the most important part of your life?" She asked shyly, making you smile.

"Of course you are, Wanda." You reply as if it were obvious, squeezing her reddened cheek and making her laugh. "My little grumpy witch."

Wanda rolls her eyes, grabbing a fistful of your shirt to pull you close, and give you a lingering kiss. You smile against her lips, and when she pulls away she keeps her forehead pressed against yours.

"I love you." She whispers with her eyes closed. "I love you so much I think I'm going to suffocate."

You sigh, feeling her emotions. She feels love, vibrant, pulsing. You think you might cry if you don't keep your eyes closed.

"I know." You whisper back. "It's like you can't put all the love out, no matter how hard you try."

"Does that scare you?" Wanda asks, her hand coming down on your waist. "Us? How intense it feels?"

You let out a short laugh.

"Scare me?" You retort. "It's the only thing that secures me."

Wanda sighs, pulling away to look at you. You smile, your hand on her cheek, caressing her skin with your thumb.

"You, Wanda Maximoff, are the only certain I hold on to." You confess. "You are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. My love for you is the only thing I am sure I never want to lose."

Wanda's eyes are watery, but you know they are tears of happiness. You can feel it too. And you don't need her to say it back to you to know either.

"I can't lose you." She whispers as she lets the tears flow. "I won't survive."

"I'm not going anywhere, Wanda." You assure by looking into her eyes, but she swallows dryly, unable to hold back her tears. You feel her despair, you want to get these feelings out of her, but you don't know how. You hold her tightly, and Wanda lies against you.

When she opens her mind to you, you understand. She still thinks of you in the dungeons of the castle. She shares her insecurities, and her traumas. You take it all in, and the grip tightens. You also begin to cry when she stops sharing.

"I'm sorry." You tell her, and repeat it a few times until she stops crying. When she does, you're both exhausted, and she just pulls away to straighten up, her face buried in your neck, inhaling your perfume.

"Stay with me." She asks against your skin, and you smile with your eyes closed.

"I will." You whisper against her ear. "I will stay forever."

//-//-//-//-//

Hogwarts feels different.

Although the trip to the castle was the same as other years, there is a different tension in the air.

The train was also considerably emptier.

Not that you noticed it so much, Wanda's presence being your complete focus. Your sisters' teasing about it making you ignore your surroundings even more just to look at Wanda.

And when you all arrived at the castle, everything seemed even worse than last year.

"Are those dementors?" Gamora asks in surprise as you all are walking down toward the carriages. You notice the buzzing around the train, the other students also noticing the creatures flying over the castle in the distance.

Wanda's hand intertwined in yours is the only thing keeping you calm.

Before you can show any reaction, Drax, the fighter guard is shouting for everyone to hurry, that it was not safe to stay outside, and you were pushed along with the crowd inside the vehicles.

"What the hell is going on with this place?" Nebula asks as the carriage starts to move.

"I don't know, but having Dementors back in the castle is definitely not a good sign." Wanda comments looking out the window.

The silence of the drive to the castle is filled with speculation about the changes at the beginning of the year, and none of you are excited for Professor Kaecilius' continuing direction. Nobody seems happy with the absence of Professor Erik on the faculty either.

You don't miss the opportunity to tease Gamora about her boyfriend not coming back to Hogwarts this year, but it backfires when she scoffs that not everyone needs to be together all the time like you and Wanda to date.

When you finally arrived, there were aurors in almost every corridor of the castle now, but they were shabby-looking wizards you had never seen before, and no sign of Carol Danvers.

As soon as you made mention of joining the Slytherin table, one of them put his hand in your way.

"Each student must join their house at the opening ceremony." Said the wizard seriously, and you frowned.

"That's ridiculous." You retorted impatiently, taking a step forward. The wizard drew his wand and you widened your eyes in surprise, automatically covering Wanda with your body.

"I won't say it again." Warned the man, and you were ready to duel, but Professor Strange seemed to have emerged from the floor, and touched your shoulder quickly.

"Miss Stark, please, let's all calm down." He ordered, and you grimaced in indignation. The small scene was already attracting the attention of the students who were entering the hall.

"Tell the student to go to her assigned table or she will be punished, professor." Warned the auror and you clenched your jaw, taking a step forward, but Wanda squeezed your hand pulling you back.

"Please, everyone in your seats right now." Strange said. "Let's not start the year with a fuss, okay?"

You ignored Stephen to look at Wanda, who let go of your hand to gently smooth your cloak, moving closer to kiss your cheek, and whisper in your ear "I love you." before turning away, smiling shyly as she turned to the Slytherin table and left.

You sighed, exchanging an angry look with the auror before walking over to the Hufflepuff table, Mantis behind you.

The year's announcements were even more absurd.

"[...] As many of you may have known this summer, as per the announcements of the Daily Prophet, I will be taking over as headmaster of Hogwarts." Announced Professor Kaecilius with a polite smile that made you roll your eyes. Your attention immediately returned to the Slytherin table, and you already found Wanda looking at you.

When your gazes meet, she blushes, quickly turning away, and making you smile.

"Hey, that sounds important." Mantis commented beside you, noticing that you were distracted, exchanging glances with Wanda across the hall.

You mumbled, pretending to pay attention to the director.

"It is clear that this will be a difficult year for us, and typically adverse until the Ministry of Magic faces the dangers beyond this castle." Kaecilius commented and you frowned, finally paying attention to the speech. "It is to prioritize the safety of the students, I have been in contact with the minister of magic himself, and new conceptions have been allowed this year to properly prepare the students for the dangers of the wizarding world."

The hall shared some buzz, but the professor just cleared his throat, continuing to speak.

"This year we will be accompanied not only by the guards of Azkaban, but also by a team of special aurors, sent by the minister himself to ensure the integrity of the castle and the safety of our students. " Kaecilius said, motioning in the center of the hall. "In addition, a change was necessary in the curriculum of this school, due to the disfavor the old direction caused in the education of all of you."

"That doesn't sound good." Mantis whispered beside you.

"I'm sure it isn't." You whispered back, looking at the principal.

"The importance of teaching without ideological barriers has been reassessed, and the minister has decided that freedom is a crucial point in the education of our society." Kaecilius announced, holding out his arms. "Classifications like right, or wrong, are... backwardness. We, as a free society, need to evolve. And we are going to start that here. With our young people."

You're not sure if it was an auror or one of the teachers who applauded first, but soon the hall followed, more out of cordiality than anything else. You did not, nor did Mantis, or any of your friends, and neither did some of the other students.

When dinner was served, you felt too concerned to feed yourself, but Mantis poked you in the ribs.

"What do you think all that speech meant?" She asks and you stir your steak with your fork, sighing before answering.

"Don't you think it's obvious?" You ask rhetorically. "They're going to teach dark magic."

Mantis's eyes widen in surprise, but you feel tired. You want to go back to where Wanda is.

But then Peter Parker is speaking.

"Did you hear what some of the Gryffindors are saying about Minister Schmidt's aurors?" he asked and you and Mantis both deny with your heads. He leaned in, lowering his voice. "They are called the Red Skulls. They were a task force in the first war. And they weren't on the right side."

You become apprehensive at the information. It's as if Hogwarts is being controlled by the wrong people now. You really have no appetite after that. So all you do during dinner is listen to the parallel conversations between your housemates and your friend.

You wished Harley had come back to Hogwarts this year, but she wrote to you over the summer saying that just like Ivy, she would study magic from home now. You missed her lightness when you had to listen to Peter's nervous comments.

As dinner ended, you hoped to join Wanda, but the aurors controlled the lines back to the dormitories, wands in hand.

You clenched your jaw, feeling frustrated and angry as soon as you made mention of leaving the line and the same auror from earlier appeared.

"Let's not do that again, Stark girl." He warned and you held your wand in your robes, staring at him angrily.

"A word, Stark?" Professor Strange interrupted again, appearing beside the auror. He touched the wizard on the shoulder. "Please, Mr. Klaue, I will escort Miss Stark back to the Hufflepuff dormitory when we're done."

The minor wizard stared back at you before turning his attention back to the line and Stephen gestured with his head for you to accompany him out of the hall.

You walked to the corner of the entrance, and Stephen leaned slightly toward you.

"How are things, Stark? Did you have a good summer?" He asked, making you frown.

"The best." You replied dryly. " Everything was awesome until I came back and some jerk kept me from seeing my girlfriend."

Stephen sighed lightly, looking at the rest of the rows that were moving away, the hall quickly becoming empty.

"I'm sorry about that. I wish things were different, but they won't be for long." He says, practically whispering. You cross your arms, annoyed at the way the aurors in the distance are clearly watching you and Stephen talk.

"What the hell is going on in this place anyway, professor?" You ask irritated.

"The same thing that's going on outside." He replies. "Miss Stark, I won't have as many opportunities to talk to you this year. So I'll say it now. Be careful. Not like the years before, going out at night and sneaking out of the castle. No. Hogwarts will not be the same this year. You, as well as your friends, must be careful."

You frowned, but softened your expression as you noticed the pure concern on Strange's face. But before you could say anything, he was looking away and there was an auror beside you.

"Students should return to their dormitories after dinner." The man announced, already grabbing your arm and making you let out a mixed exclamation of surprise and anger.

"There's no need for that." The professor immediately interfered, releasing the man's grip, who took a step forward.

"I would be careful with secrets, Mr. Strange." Warned the wizard. "You don't want to be tried for treason, like that mudblood, do you?"

Strange clenched his jaw, and you think you've never seen him so angry.

"Do not threaten me, Mr Stane." Stephen retorted, and you swallowed dryly as you saw the wizard grab his wand on his belt, but he didn't draw it. The wizard just laughed wryly and made a noise with his mouth, like a whistle, to get you to walk.

You exchanged a look with the professor before doing so, hurrying to keep up with the end of the Hufflepuff line.

//-//-//-//-//

You were too worried to sleep.

And nothing had happened, but just the fact that you knew things were different made you uncomfortable and worried about Wanda's safety.

You had your cloak, and ignoring Strange's instructions, you waited for everyone to be asleep before leaving the dorm, completely invisible in the dark.

Aurors were making rounds through the halls, much more than before. And there were many more wizards, and you didn't know where they seemed to come from.

You thought it best to put a spell on your shoes so they wouldn't make noise, and so you passed through the corridors quietly.

At the portrait door your troubles began.

"Hey buddy, let me in." You warned the painting, which grumbled as it was woken up, squinting and then assuming a stern posture.

"Get out of here, blood traitor!" Retorted the painting causing you to frown.

"Say that again and I will rip you apart!" You angrily warned, but the painting gave a mean little laugh and then began to shout.

"Student out of bed, student out of bed!" His high-pitched voice echoed in the halls, and you hurried to cover your head with your cloak again, feeling your heart race when you heard footsteps approaching through the halls.

You started to run, and only stopped when you were far enough away.

And then you realized where you were again.

You remember the path from your nightmares.

Swallowing hard, you take a step back, but you bump into the wall.

It is the entrance to the dungeon where Agatha took you.

Nothing looks different, you wonder if the ministry even went in there.

You feel your stomach turn, and your heart is racing even more. The memories of what happened come back all at once, but you close your eyes, taking a deep breath and pushing them away.

You are safe.

And you walk away from that corridor quickly, feeling suffocated.

And then you bump into someone, trip over the cloak, and fall to the floor.

"Interesting choice of destination, Miss Stark." Professor Kaecilius comments as you swallow dryly, looking at him while you are still on the floor. He keeps his hands in his pockets."I was hoping for a more mature attitude in your sixth year, but clearly that was a mistaken expectation."

"Sorry, professor, but I'm still sleepwalking." You retort getting up, and are surprised that he gives you a wry smile. You feel nervous then, because he is now so comfortable at Hogwarts that he feels free to laugh at your jokes.

"I should have predicted that you would come back to this place." He then says, looking toward the room for a moment before returning his gaze to you. "If you had asked permission, perhaps I would have conceived."

You clench your jaw, not knowing exactly how to escape this confusion. Professor Kaecilius assumes a stern expression next.

"I don't care for the unruly way that Agatha conducted this school, but I assure you that it will not be the same manner in which I will conduct it." He says and with a flick of his right hand, the fallen invisibility cloak closes and jumps on his arm. You swallow dryly, but say nothing. "Adjusting to the new curriculum will take up most of your routine during this week, but you must learn to value the rules. Your detentions will take place on Saturdays for the next three months."

"Three months?" You exclaim in shock, and Kaecilius sighs.

"Perhaps four would be more appropriate, you have a bad track record."

You bite your tongue, holding back from cursing your teacher.

" Follow me to your dormitory, Miss Stark." Says the professor next, already starting to walk. "We don't want any more incidents, do we?"

The path is silent, but there is a nervous tension.

At the door, Professor Kaecilius turns to you.

"I would sleep now, if I were you, Miss Stark." He warns. "It takes discipline to become a competent witch, and sleep will not be an acceptable excuse for failing your classes."

You frown, but the professor waves, and you walk into the dormitory, the doorframe closing behind you.

Just as you reach your room, Mantis is opening the curtains on her bed.

"Where the hell have you been?" She asks worriedly as you take off your shoes to lie down.

"Wanda." You grumble before throwing yourself onto the mattress, sinking your face into the pillow. Seeing your dissatisfaction, Mantis sits up in your bed, poking you lightly in the ribs.

"What happened?" she asks and you sigh in frustration. When you tell her what happened, she has a mixed expression of concern and annoyance.

"I'm sorry about the cloak." She says. "And well, about the detention too."

"It's okay." You mumble. "I just wanted to see my girlfriend."

"I'm sure she's fine." Mantis says, and seeing your grimace she giggles. "Can't you feel these things? If you're not sensing anything, she's asleep, right?"

You sigh, nodding. Mantis is right. You just miss her, but other than that, you don't have any chills or anything. Wanda is safe.

"Thank you, Mantis." You say shyly, playing with the threads of the pillow. "Sometimes, I don't remember that, and I worry for nothing."

"It's okay." She says. "That's how it is when you love someone."

You smile and Mantis gives you a wink before getting up, and returning to her own bed.

"Now, let's go to sleep please, I'm thinking we're in for a busy week." She comments and you murmur in agreement.

You are afraid that " busy" is not the best adjective to define it.

//-//-//-//-//

Tag list> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia || @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm // @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx || @yuhloversxx || @ymzki-haruki || @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday || @lostandsearching || @lezzzbehonesthere || @musicinourlips || @chaekhan || @diaryoflife || @nervoustrack || @aquamarinescarlet || @cristin-rjd || @idamaemann || @fortunatelynerdylight || @iliketozoneout

[drawlfoy]

detention retention finale p.2 (the real finale!)

masterlist (catch up on parts 1, 2, and the first half of the finale here!)

request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no my original idea

summary: gryffindor and friend of the golden trio y/n y/l/n is tasked with getting close to malfoy to learn his secret in 6th year. things quickly become more complicated.

warnings: (please pay attention this time around) nsfw content, implied sex, swearing, character death. however, if you are sensitive to gore know that this one is a lot less graphic than the first half of the finale

a/n: wow. here we are! this part is going to be considerably more light hearted than the first part. ngl while writing this i reread my 8th grade diary when i spent hours overanalyzing what my crushes did/said and i kind of wanted to emulate that school crush feeling of “does he like me does he not”. if this seems like a weird turn considering how dark things were in the last chapter, i’m sorry i just really wanted to give poor draco and y/n a break fdajkfls. i hope you guys like it :) 

word count: 16.1k (the longest part of them all...lmfao)

tags! @sycathorn-slush @writeandtranslate  @gruffle1 @missmultifandommess @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @yiamalfoy @crystalox @dracoismybabey @dreamcxtcherr @decaffeinated-turtle @marrymetheonott @felicityofbakerstreet @daedreamss 

here’s a spotify playlist i made for this!

enjoy!

Back at the Gryffindor tower, she was met with a surprise: Ron, sitting cross-legged on her bed, paging through a random Quidditch catalog he stole from Fred. 

“Hi, Ron,” greeted Y/N tentatively. Despite the fact that Harry and Hermione had both been outwardly stand-offish towards her, Ron had, for the most part, remained neutral. “What’s up?”

He jerked his head upwards, his eyes wide. “Sorry, er, you scared me. Hey, Y/N.” Ron awkwardly waved. 

“Is something...going on?”

“Oh.” He uncrossed his legs and sat up straight, his thumbs twiddling together in his lap. “I just wanted to, erm, have a chat with you. I know Hermione and Harry are a little angry with you still, but I miss you. And I don’t think they’re right in doing this to you.”

Y/N allowed her shoulders to sag in relief as she joined him, letting the bed sink under both of their weight. “I understand why they’re upset. I just felt so bad, you know. Drac--Malfoy is going through a lot right now, and even though he’s been a prat to you guys, all of a sudden it was like I would be a horrible person to ignore what’s been going on with him.”

“Harry and Hermione think it’s because you’re a pureblood,” Ron said. “That’s mostly why I came to talk to you. Harry said something before the day in the bathroom about how he wasn’t surprised ‘your kind’ was so quick to turn on us.”

“Does he not know that you’re literally a--”

“Exactly.” A nervous laugh left Ron’s lips. “I mentioned that, and I think he realized how messed up that line of thought was. Anyways, he feels proper terrible about hurting you the way he did. I think you’ll have to wait around a bit before he swallows his pride and apologizes to you himself, but he hasn’t been the same since what happened before the break.”

“Wow.” Y/N allowed that thought to sink in. “And...Hermione?”

“She’s still hurt,” admitted Ron. “Can you blame her, though? One of her best friends starts messing around with her childhood bully?”

She winced. “I know, I know. Believe me, I know. But we’re not...like that.”

“I think you should try talking to her again. I’m not sure why you’re so insistent on keeping a promise to Malfoy, but nothing’s going to change unless you tell her why you did what you did.”

“Thanks, Ron.” Y/N reached out to lay her hand on his shoulder. “Also, I don’t want to be gossipy or anything, but I think you should leave Lavender for Hermione.”

Ron balked. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s just an idea,” said Y/N, shrugging. “I just have a feeling you two would be really cute together. I dunno what it is. Just an inkling of a thought.”

“I would never leave Lavender,” he said, frowning as his eyes hazed over. “I would never do that…”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Y/N smirked, elbowing him in the side. He grinned at her, the dimples easily forming in the freckled skin of his cheek. 

“Shut up, Y/N.”

Hermione Granger was not a difficult witch to locate. All Y/N had to do was wait until prime studying hours before searching the library’s long halls until she found the bushy head of hair craned intently over a large textbook.

“Hermione.”

At her voice, Hermione snapped to attention, a sour expression forming on her face. “What do you want?” She didn’t even wait for a response, dipping her head back down and continuing to take notes.

“I want to apologize, properly, for what happened,” Y/N said, settling into the seat across from her and dropping her voice. “I know I didn’t give you a very good explanation about what was going on, and I know I wasn’t completely honest with you.”

“I’m not interested in hearing what you have to say right now, Y/L/N.”

She brushed off the pain of her last name being used instead of her given name and continued. “I know you must be really hurt that I got close with Malfoy, especially considering how cruel he was to you.”

Hermione remained silent.

“I know that I’ll never understand how it feels to be an outsider in this world,” she said. “I’m sorry that I can’t change what happened in the past. You’re allowed to be as angry as you want with me. Believe me when I say that I never meant to lie to or to deceive you. You had to have noticed how different Malfoy looks. He needed someone, and I was there. He might not deserve that kind of treatment, especially not from you, but it would’ve been wrong of me to just let him suffer on his own.”

Hermione finally met her eyes, a few tears shining in the deep brown depths of her stare. “I don’t understand how you could overlook all the things he’s said about me. Is...that what you think of me, too?”

“Of course not, Hermione,” exclaimed Y/N. The angry shh from the table over made her drop her voice once again. “You’re twice as capable as my entire bloodline combined. You have every right to be part of this world. You are part of this world and you always have been. If I thought that Draco hadn’t changed, I wouldn’t have become friends with him.”

“You call him Draco now?”

“He’s my friend. And I think that if things were a little different, he’d actually defect from his family’s beliefs and join our side. Living firsthand in the close proximity of Death Eaters really took a toll on him.”

Hermione chewed her lip. “This is really hard. I don’t know what to say.”

“I miss you,” confessed Y/N. “And, to be honest, I felt quite left out, too. I know you and Harry and Ron have important confidential business to attend to, but the way it was treated made it seem like I was too stupid to hear about or understand it. Draco didn’t make me feel that way, and I liked it.”

To her surprise, Hermione’s features softened. “I’m sorry. I really am, Y/N. I don’t know why I didn’t realize earlier how unfair we were to you about that.”

“Really?” 

She shrugged. “I think so.”

“Are we okay, then?”

Hermione frowned a little deeper as her idle hand allowed her quill to dribble ink over the fresh parchment she used. “Not really. I think I need some time. It’s hard for me to feel like I can trust you again after all of this.”

“I completely understand,” Y/N rushed out. “Hopefully one day things will be better, yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Hermione offered her a small smile before turning back to her work. If it had been another time, Y/N would’ve invited herself to sit across from her and distract her as she tried to study, telling Hermione all about her day and how much she wanted to drop kick Goyle across the Quidditch pitch, but it was different now, and she knew that. 

Without another word, Y/N got up and left her old friend in her library. 

Her dorm was rather quiet as she settled back into her bed for the second time that day, this time happy to find it entirely empty. It was a Sunday, after all, and she had an entire stack of homework to try and drag herself through before her classes the next day. 

As her fingers began to card through the messy parchment of her desk, she took notice of an item that hadn’t been there before--a crimson red envelope, embossed with glittery golden piping and a roaring lion. Her family crest.

Y/N tore into the parchment as she wracked her brain to try and guess the contents. A howler? No, she’d been (mostly) good. A gift? She hadn’t been that good. What awaited her was much more underwhelming--just a boring old piece of parchment with black ink penned in her father’s handwriting. 

But the news that it brought her had the memories from Christmas Break rushing back.

~

The next day, he was sitting in his Potions seat, making small talk with Pansy that coaxed a few laughs out of both students like nothing had happened the day before. Their eyes met briefly before he uncomfortably cleared his throat and turned away, back to Pansy’s animated speech over how ridiculous this class was. 

Her heart ached at the sight. How could he act like nothing had ever happened between them? How could he just evade eye contact like that? Y/N felt a wave of uncontrollable jealousy wash over her when the thought of Pansy lying in his silk sheets with the knowledge that she was actually HIS, that he actually wanted her. It was all she could do to avert her eyes and pretend it didn’t happen, though Draco wasn’t exactly ignoring her anymore, which was almost worse. Now that she knew he only saw her as a friend, it only hurt so much more when he would chivalrously offer to walk her back to the library at night or say polite hellos to her in the halls. 

The days began to bleed into each other again, speeding along even quicker now that she actually had people to sit with during meals and to talk to during common hours. Hermione and Ron had begun speaking to her again, though Harry was still making himself sparse whenever she appeared in a group.

To her surprise, though, that changed one day when a paper crane fluttered onto her desk in Charms. She opened it quickly, hoping desperately (and against her will) that it was from Draco, but instead she was greeted with a messy scrawl that she knew very well.

Meet me after practice on the pitch if you’d be okay with talking to me. -Harry

Despite the recent events, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a twinge of nostalgia for the many times that Harry had written her similar notes, back when their relationship wasn’t rocky and she was actually helping the Trio. That wistfulness was quickly replaced with anxiety when she tried to figure out what to expect from Harry.

“Y/N,” he greeted her a few hours later. She rose from her seat on the bleachers and began to walk alongside him.

“Hi Harry.”

“Listen,” he began, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “I know I’m not very good at talking about feelings--that’s why I’ve been putting this off for so long--but you deserve an apology for what happened in Myrtle’s bathroom. I don’t think I’ll ever understand your connection with Malfoy, but that isn’t an excuse for what happened.”

Well, this was going better than expected. “I’m not going to lie and say that it’s okay that you hexed me, but I don’t blame you all that much.”

Harry let out a nervous laugh. “That’s, er, really good to hear, Y/N. I am so, so sorry for what I did to you. Are you okay?”

“Just peachy,” responded Y/N. “Madame Pomfrey even said that the scarring might go away.” The way the blood drained out of his face made her realize that that probably wasn’t the right thing to say.

“Oh, Merlin, there’s scarring?”

“Forget I said that,” replied Y/N, placing a hand comfortingly on his arm. “Water under the bridge. It really is okay.”

“Well…” He coughed awkwardly as they neared the castle’s entrance. “I think I owe you an explanation as well. If you want one, that is.”

“Shoot,” she said. “Preferably not a deadly curse at me, though.”

If Harry thought that was funny, he certainly didn’t show it. “Looking back on what happened, it was all just a complete blur. I lost control.”

“Because I hadn’t told you about Malfoy?”

“Oh, well…” He cleared his throat, avoiding her eyes. “Obviously I was angry that you’d lied to us. And I was angry at Malfoy over Katie Bell. But that wasn’t what made me lose control. It was seeing you together. There was this moment before either of you noticed I was there and it just made me sick to my stomach to watch. Merlin, the way he…” Harry trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut. “The way he looked at you. It just boiled my blood.”

“What do you mean?” asked Y/N, beginning to grow more and more confused. How could Harry have seen something that wasn’t even there in the first place? 

“And the way you two looked at each other in Potions,” he continued, clearly not planning on answering her question. “It makes me sick. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“He doesn’t see me that way, Harry,” she said, her voice little.

“Has he told you that?”

“As a matter of fact he has.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Sorry about that.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she replied, holding his palms up in a surrender. “It’s not as if it came as a surprise or anything. Plus, not like I care. Just because I don’t want to see him get hurt does not mean I have feelings for him.” Y/N was talking too animatedly, something that prompted her friend to tilt his head and send her a curious look. 

“Right. Well…” Harry stood up, brushing his robes off. “If I didn’t make it clear enough already, I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever understand what you see in him. But you haven’t lost me. I just hope I haven’t lost you.”

Y/N gave him a grateful smile before launching into his arms. He started, but once Y/N had her arms around his neck, he hugged her back. She breathed in the familiar woodsy smell she’d known since she was 11 and swallowed the lump in her throat. “I missed you, Harry.”

“I missed you too. So much.” 

She was just about to poke fun at him for being sappy when someone pointedly cleared their throat behind them, prompting her to spin around and prepare to tell someone off for interrupting her conversation. Once she saw who it was before her, though, she froze. 

“Try and keep the PDA at a minimum, yeah?” Draco Malfoy said, his lips twisted into a bored scowl.

“Draco,” she warned. He simply arched an eyebrow at her before swiftly passing by the two, being sure to brush harshly against Harry’s shoulder.

“What has gotten into him?” she asked in astonishment. “Merlin, it’s like we time traveled back to 5th year or something.” 

He scoffed at her side. “Y/N, what did I tell you?”

The next day, Draco wasn’t at breakfast. Y/N tried not to think too much about his empty seat as she listened to Ron ramble on about how crazy Lavender was being. She had finally migrated over to the Gryffindor table, bringing her new Ravenclaw friend along with her. Hermione was still giving her side eye, but it was better than being treated like a complete outcast. This time around, Parkinson was gone from the Slytherin table, too. The thought of Pansy being the one to comfort him filled her chest with the slimy coolness of jealousy, but instead of dwelling on it further, she stabbed her fork through the strawberry on her plate and took a bite. If he wanted to mess around with her, he could. Merlin knew he needed some sort of distraction. But her most private thoughts couldn’t help but wonder if he ever had feelings for her. There were so many moments that made her think otherwise--the way he’d blush when she said anything flirtatious, how eager he had been to walk her to her dorm, all the glances sent her way…

It was at moments like these when Y/N sternly reminded herself that they were just friends and that was all he’d ever seen her as. Friends brushed hands. Friends walked each other to their dorms. Friends stared across the room at each other sometimes. Friends gave each other gifts. Hermione, Ron, and Luna had all acted similarly to her in the past and it was entirely platonic. She was just overanalyzing.

He didn’t show up to Potions, Charms, or Defense Against the Dark Arts. Snape was giving her the eye, and Y/N uncomfortably shifted in her chair as she wondered if the wizard had found out it was her who stole the Veritaserum.

“As you all may know,” he drawled, stalking the perimeter of the classroom, “A particular potion of mine has been...misplaced. If any of you happen to know where it is, I suggest you confess now.”

Nervous chatter erupted around the room as Snape’s eyes bored into hers. Was he using Legilimency on her? Wouldn’t she feel something? Despite her worries, he broke eye contact and spun around to the board, scrawling the topic of the lesson on the chalkboard. Y/N reminded herself to breathe. 

He wasn’t at lunch, Transfiguration, or dinner. Y/N was starting to believe that Draco had just up and left Hogwarts as she began to get ready for bed, showering off the day and dressing in comfier clothes. For once, her homework load had been lightened to the point where she could put it off for a full day. Diffuser on, windows open, and sleeping clothes on, Y/N was ready and settled into bed early with nothing but her racing thoughts to keep her company.

Was Draco okay? Did something happen with his task? Where was he?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a light rap on her door.

“Y/N?” A young girl’s voice, muffled but distinguishable through the heavy wooden door shook her out of it. She groaned, throwing the blankets off her and closing her hand around the doorknob. She wasn’t even a prefect, but for some god-forsaken reason the first-years always went to her instead.

“Candace,” she greeted. “What’s cracking?”

“Someone wants to see you.” The first-year’s voice sounded shakier than usual. Y/N finally cast her eyes up from the short girl to take in the sight of a rather disheveled looking Draco Malfoy standing in her hallway.

“Draco? What are you doing here?” 

He cleared his throat. “Are you busy?”

“Candace,” Y/N said, addressing the eleven year old in front of her first, “Thanks for helping Draco. You should go to bed, you know. It’s late.”

Wide-eyed, Candace dashed off without any protest. Y/N cast a raised brow to Draco and tried to look like she hadn’t spent the past 12 hours obsessing over his disappearance. “You better have a good reason for showing up at my dorm in the middle of the night and scaring one of my first-years to death.”

“She wasn’t scared,” he argued.

“You must be horrible with reading children,” stated Y/N. “Anyways, is this a conversation that you want to have in my dorm hall? Or would you prefer to come inside?”

He tilted his head towards the doorway. “May I?”

“Er...sure. Come on in.” She bit back the quip about already offering. “What’s going on? You missed all your classes today.”

“I’m aware,” he responded drily as he sat down on the same spot she’d just been nearly asleep on. “I just...something happened last night. I didn’t know where else to go.”

Y/N tried not to blush at how flattered she was. He didn’t even like her. Why was she acting like that still? Friends did this sort of thing. Friends were there for each other. “Oh. Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want to just take your mind off of it?”

He seemed to ponder this for a moment before exhaling a deep sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe take my mind off it until I feel ready to talk about it.”

Y/N gave him a small smile, leading him by the cuff of his sleeve over to her window. “I think I know something we can do. Grab a pillow and a blanket.”

He did as she asked while she opened up the window wider until it was large enough to crawl through, spelling the tiles of the roof outside clean. 

“Are we going on the roof?”

“As long as you’re not too scared of heights, yeah,” she responded, using her desk as a stepping stool while she swung the rest of her body out on the old Hogwarts roof. Despite the age of the castle, the structure was thankfully sturdy. “Pass me anything you want out here. I’ll get it set up for us.”

“I’m not sitting on that dirty roof,” he said, his usual snotty tone creeping into his voice as he handed her a blanket for each of them. 

“Okayyy, Your Highness.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “We can sit on my blanket.” True to her word, she took the one she usually slept with and covered the tiles. “Will you come sit with me now?”

“Since you asked so nicely.” He settled in next to her, his own blanket barely draped over his knees while she sat cross legged at his side, trying not to shiver from the cold late winter air. “Wow. This is actually a better view than from the Astronomy tower.”

“I know, right?” she said, trying to ignore how her heart fluttered every time he looked at her. “You can see Hogsmeade from here, too.”

The pair watched the scenery before them in silence. Y/N drank in the landscape bathed in soft moonlight, the winding creeks leading into the Dark Forest reflecting the moon while the Black Lake’s waves gently lapped at the shores. 

“I come up here sometimes when I get stressed,” she confessed after a little while. Draco turned to look at her, his lips slightly quirked up and his eyes soft. 

“Yeah?”

“It just helps clear my head,” she continued. “I feel really lucky to live in the Tower. It must be kind of weird to know that if you opened your window you’d just flood your room.”

Draco snorted. “You get used to it.”

Y/N hummed in something that felt a little like agreement.

He shuffled, clearing his throat. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to tell you this since that night. I’m…sorry that I can’t give you what you want.”

“It’s really okay,” she said, her cheeks growing hot. “I understand. You can’t change how you feel. I’m happy to be your friend and eventually that’s all I’ll ever want.”

Draco dipped his head in a nod of acknowledgement when a brilliant display of lights suddenly exploded over Hogsmeade. Fireworks. They were obviously magic, charmed to glitter in the shape of the words, “Happy Birthday, Margie!”

“Oh my god, happy birthday Margie,” Y/N echoed, eager for the distraction of their conversation.

“I wonder how old she’s turning.”

“I bet she’s 34,” said Y/N. 

“32.”

“33, maybe, but that’s pushing it.”

She returned his grin before she felt something hit the top of her head--a raindrop, fat and cold--and roll down the back of her neck. “Shit. I think it’s going to rain soon. Do you want to go back in?”

As if to accentuate her point, the clouds above them rumbled. Draco shrugged. “If you want. I kind of like staying out here, though.”

“Me too.”

They sat in the quiet for a few more moments, the only sound coming from the soft patter of the rain and the occasional boom of Margie’s birthday fireworks. Y/N began to shiver as the raindrops became more frequent, her loose sleeping shirt and her shorts not really doing much for her. All of a sudden, she felt something fuzzy on top of her head.

She looked to her left to see that Draco had lifted his blanket to drape over both of them, creating a tent of some sort. “Thanks, Draco.”

“Don’t mention it.” His smile set off the butterflies in her stomach once again, but she beat them back. The fireworks continued, now switching to a glittering sage green. “I bet Margie was a Slytherin.”

“Or maybe she just likes sage green,” argued Y/N. 

“Maybe.” He held her gaze for what felt like a second too long before clearing his throat and turning his attention back onto the night sky. It occurred to her at that moment that they could’ve just transfigured the pillows they were sitting on into umbrellas, but traitorously, she didn’t want to mention it if it meant she lost her chance to be near him. 

She felt something lightly brush past the hand she had rested in the space between them but thought nothing of it, instead focusing on her breathing and making sure she didn’t sound like she was hyperventilating because she most certainly felt like she wanted to. She’d never shared her special roof spot with anyone, not even Harry or Ron. But he didn’t know that. 

The fireworks exploded with a crescendo of motion as multiple green sparkles were launched into the air, crackling and sparking with energy. At any other point in time, Y/N would’ve found it easy to focus on the beauty of the show, but something else caught her attention: the fact that Draco’s hand was now set directly next to hers, the edge of his touching her with the lightest of pressures. Every nerve ending in her left hand felt like it was burning with energy as Draco, without even sparing a glance in her direction, inched his hand over just enough for his pinky to overlap with hers.

Y/N tried to remember how to breathe as her thoughts ran wild. Friends touched hands sometimes. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe he didn’t even know it was her hand.

She heard Draco’s own breath hitch in his throat as his hand finally slipped under hers, intertwining their fingers and turning them so her hand rested in his palm. 

Friends held hands sometimes. There was nothing romantic about this. Nope. This was normal. Y/N’s frenzied thoughts were interrupted by Draco’s voice.

“You know how much danger my family is in,” he said, finally revealing what had him so shaken up. “Well, I got a letter from my mother last night. Apparently she’s been getting these strange, veiled threats. She can’t identify the owl and it seems like whoever this is is hell-bent on breaking into the manor. My aunt and the rest of the Death Eaters have been ridiculing her for even worrying about it.”

Y/N started to feel a guilty pit in her stomach. The letter her father sent her was beginning to make more sense. “Draco, that’s awful.”

“Do you think that maybe they’re the ones who are sending them to her?” he asked, his voice raising an octave at the end, flourished with a small crack in his tone. “As a way to rush me to the end of my task?”

Draco had slowly leaned into her as he told her his worries, and Y/N found herself gently squeezing his hand. “I’m so sorry you have to deal with this on top of everything else. This isn’t fair to you. Is there anything I can do to help you? Do you need help solving the cabinet?”

He shook his head, casting his gaze down to their hands. “Is it okay if I just stay here for a little?”

“Of course you can,” she said, immediately regretting her words. Having him around would only make her feel worse. Was this how he treated all of his friends? She held back an ill-timed chuckle at the thought of him holding hands with Goyle. 

“Thanks, Y/N.” His eyes were so light that she could still see the silver hue of them in the dark, reflecting what little moonlight found him under the blanket. “You know, I’m glad we had detention together. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Pansy kept badgering me all day about how she could help instead of actually listening and Blaise just told me that if I kept moping around he’d nab my mother himself.”

“Oh,” said Y/N. Jealousy surged through her as she thought again about Pansy. When she held hands with him, she probably never had to wonder what it meant. “Do they know about…”

“Not everything,” Draco clarified. “That’s just you. They just know about my current house guests. I haven’t told them any specifics.”

Another pang of guilt rattled through Y/N as she ran through the information she’d gotten the night prior in her head while he squeezed her hand back, his thumb running along her skin. She felt like the shame of not mentioning it earlier was burning her up.

“Draco, I need to tell you something.” The makeshift blanket tent all of a sudden felt like the most intimate location in the world as he turned to face her fully, now gripping her hand with two of his own and leaning closer, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. “What is it?”

“I…” She trailed off, squeezing her eyes shut as she mentally ran through the contents of the parchment on her desk. For a moment, all she could hear was the pounding of rain and Draco’s breathing. 

“If this is what I think it is, then I--”

“I’m not about to confess to you again literally right after being rejected,” she snipped back, pulling her hands from his grip in a moment of unexpected humiliation. “I’m not that stupid.”

Draco took his own hands, now empty, and folded them neatly on his thigh. He stopped meeting her eyes. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t--I wasn’t going to--”

“It’s--no, I’m sorry.�� Y/N found herself angry that she gave up her excuse to hold his hand. “That was just a little embarrassing for me. I promise I won’t bring it up again. This is something totally different.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” To her surprise, there was no usual teasing lilt to his tone; he was being entirely genuine.

“I want you to know that we can call this off at any time,” she began, watching his blank expression carefully should it change, “But I hope you think about this.”

“Think about what?”

“I’m kidnapping your mom.” 

There. It was out. Draco’s mouth had long since fallen open, a look of mild horror on his face. “What the actual fuck?”

“Let me explain,” Y/N rushed. “The Order owes my family a favor. My mom knew yours. I may have mentioned something about the treatment towards her over the holidays and now my family is orchestrating a way to fake a kidnapping-turned-murder situation to get her out.”

He blinked at her.

“Of course we can call it off anytime you want,” Y/N repeated. She cast a quick Accio (something she was surprised worked considering how shaky she was) and summoned her father’s letter from her desk, thrusting it into his arms. “Read this. It has all the details.”

Draco scanned the document without a single word leaving his lips.

“You’re scaring me, Draco. What do you think?”

“You have an Italian beach cottage?” he asked. 

“Apparently so,” answered Y/N. “I’ve never been there, but we haven’t actually registered it through the British Ministry. If we hide your mother there, no one is going to be able to find her. She’s not required to give up information to the Order, either--I mean, we kind of hope that she will, but there’s no mandated amount of intel to keep her safe.”

“And I can…”

“Yes. After your task is straightened out, you can join her if you want.” She hardly finished her sentence before Draco’s arms pulled her into the tightest hug she’d ever been given in her life.

“I can’t believe you did that,” he mumbled, his voice strained. “How did you...wow. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Her voice was muffled by his shoulder. “I’m just glad I could help.”

He finally pulled away, still keeping his hands gently placed on her forearms. She tried to keep her thoughts from straying too much as he gazed down at her, a slightly sad downturn in his lips. The way he was looking at her began to make her even more nervous.

“Well, it’s getting late,” she stated. “I want to get up early tomorrow so I’m not too late to Potions. Are you feeling better?”

Draco cleared his throat. “Er, yes. I suppose so. Thanks again, Y/N. I’m assuming this is when you kick me out?”

“Don’t say it like that.” She spelled her blanket clean from under him and stepped back into her room, turning to face him. “I’m just tired. That’s all. I’m glad you felt like you could come to me.”

He sent her a small smile before swinging his legs over the windowsill and making his way to the door. “I hope you have a good night. Sleep well.” He went in for another hug, but this time Y/N accidentally leaned the same direction as him, nearly crashing her lips into his.

“Shit, sorry,” she murmured as she quickly corrected herself to lean the other way--and was horrified to find that he had done the exact thing as well, barely dodging him this time and instead reeling herself back as far as his hold on her allowed. Draco let out a nervous laugh, letting her go and stepping away, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Well. That was poorly timed considering the conversation we had,” he pointed out. What stellar observational skills.

“Er, yeah. Well…” Y/N held her hand out and immediately felt herself cringe. “Here’s to being good friends.”

He took her hand in his and tentatively shook it, a sort of half-smirk dancing on his lips as his eyebrow raised. “To being good friends. I’ll see you later.”

Then he was gone, and Y/N was able to flop back on her bed and frantically sort through her thoughts in peace. He’d almost--no, she’d almost--well, they both had almost kissed. As friends, though. Obviously.

This is ridiculous. She pulled a blanket up around her and immediately froze when she breathed in--black tea and sage, just as she remembered. She decided it was high time to switch her blankets anyways and tossed that one in the laundry bin.

~

“And then guess what she said?”

“Come on, we’re waiting,” Y/N said to Ron as they chattered over their cauldron in Potions together, flanked by the rest of her Gryffindor friends.

“Lavender said I’m obviously pining after Hermione because I keep asking her to study with me.”

“No!” came from Neville after a theatrical gasp. “She did not.” 

“She literally did, mate,” Harry cut in. “I saw it myself. Honestly, I think she might be onto something. I’ve always sensed some sort of tension between you two.”

“I think Harry’s right, as much as it pains me to say it,” she teased, giving her friend a little shove. Seamus had just opened his mouth to start talking when the sound of shattering glass prompted them all to whip around to face the Slytherin section. Draco Malfoy stood awkwardly clutching the broken remains of a glass vial in his hand like he was still in disbelief over what had occurred. 

“Malfoy, boy, is everything alright over there?” Slughorn asked from the front.

“Yes,” he said quickly, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know what happened.”

“You should sleep more,” the professor continued. “It’s harder to control your magic when you’re young and exhausted.”

Draco just nodded, his gaze turning over to meet Y/N’s worried one. She tilted her head, mouthing, “Are you okay?”. He sent her a tight smile and nodded, though Pansy sent her a very dirty look. 

“So that was weird,” said Y/N, turning back around to face Harry. “I haven’t broken glass by losing control of my magic since I was a kid.”

“One time I let a snake out in a muggle zoo,” said Harry, his eyes miles away as he traveled down memory lane.

“You what now?”

“I can’t believe I never told you that.”

“I think I would’ve remembered that. What’d you do, whisper in its ear about how the only thing it has to lose is its chains or something until he was motivated enough to escape?”

Harry laughed. “No. I vanished the glass. And then it thanked me, which was horribly alarming for a kid who had no idea what magic was.”

“You poor, poor thing,” she mocked before Slughorn dismissed them and they began to make their way together down the hall. “Suffering from success.”

Harry chuckled, and Y/N felt a surge of affection for the fact that they were friends once again. “Basically the story of my life. Anyways, I’m off to see Snape.”

“Merlin, are you okay?” asked Y/N, holding her hand to his forehead and miming the motion of checking for a fever. “On your own time?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s alright,” he said, suddenly looking more somber. “I’m just serving detention for what happened in the bathroom. I am still very sorry about that, you know. If you wanted to curse me to get back at me, I’d understand.”

She shoved him forward, a smile dancing on her lips as she said, “Go on, suffer for my honor.” Then she felt a hand pull her back into an empty, dark classroom. 

“Let go of me!” she exclaimed, twisting around to try and see the person who had grabbed her.

“Boo,” whispered a familiar voice in her ear. 

“Draco, you do realize you could just talk to me in the halls like a normal goddamn person,” she chided, finally being released from his grip so she could give him a stern look. He only shrugged, a slightly impish look displayed across his features.

“But it’s more fun this way.”

She tried her hardest to frown at him, but it was honestly difficult when he was smiling at her the way he was. “So, what’s up? Did something happen?”

“Nothing really,” he admitted. “I just know that we both have free periods. Do you want to spend it together?”

Friends, friends, friends, friends, friends Y/N chanted in her head. He’s only saying this as a platonic thing.

“I guess I don’t really have anything better to do,” she teased. Despite her light hearted tone, she couldn’t help but notice the shift in Draco’s behavior. In a matter of days, he was looking more like himself than he had all year--the color finding its way back into his cheeks, the corners of his eyes crinkling up when he smiled, the food on his plate in the Great Hall actually being eaten. 

If there was one thing that Y/N was quickly learning about Draco, it was that under all of his snobbery, he was endearingly weird. He’d memorized all of the captains of the Slytherin Quidditch team, read everything there was in the library about alchemy, and always sent her the dorkiest fucking waves whenever their eyes met. 

So, in spirit of Draco’s newly recovered persona, Y/N spent the rest of her free period sitting in the empty classroom and chatting with him about a whole load of nothing. They’d both sat on top of adjacent desks, and sometimes Y/N would swing her feet so she kicked his shin. He’d always promptly return the favor.

“So,” she said after a while, “Have you been thinking about what I told you? My family’s plan, and all?”

He was quiet for a few seconds, his gaze cast down to his hands. “A little. I guess I’m just a little confused about what I should do with my task or when all of this is going to happen.”

“I’m only asking because I’ve been thinking about it,” confessed Y/N. “I think I’ve figured out what you should do with your task. If you want to, that is.”

“I’m listening.”

“We’ve already established that You-Know-Who has nothing to hold over your head without your mother at stake,” began Y/N, searching his face to find agreement, “But it’s going to look suspicious if you suddenly stop sending progress reports.”

Draco reached his hand up to scratch his cheek. “One problem, though. I don’t think I’ll be able to repair the cabinet. I’ve hit a complete dead end anyways.”

“That’s fine,” said Y/N. “That doesn’t matter. Fake the progress reports. I don’t think that you should fix it at all, to be honest. I think you should leave it broken and still invite Bellatrix and her friends to travel through it.”

“And kill them?!”

“Or maim them,” offered Y/N. “I know it’s not ideal, but I think that if I tweaked the cabinet’s lunar belt just right, I might be able to control how the space-time continuum is warped and simply incapacitate them so the Order can take them into custody. Of course, the dark magic as an element may throw a curveball, but it’s worth a shot. And if you do this, it’ll mean that the Order will trust you more.”

“Hm.” Draco caught his bottom lip on his teeth while he shut his eyes, obviously stewing over everything. “That’s quite the risk.”

“I can run it by my family to get their thoughts on it,” she offered. “But the only caveat is that I have to mention what you’re trying to do.”

His eyes shot open. “Maybe don’t mention the part where I’ve already made more than one attempt on the headmaster’s life if we end up going down that route.”

Y/N shrugged. “The Order might already know. Isn’t Snape onto you?”

“He’s not ‘onto me’, he was instructed to help--” Draco stopped in his tracks as he stared at her. “Wait, what?”

“Oh,” she said, both of them frozen as they realized what they’d revealed to each other. “Erm...forget I mentioned that.”

“Yeah, probably a good idea,” he mumbled, sending a half-hearted kick at her. “Let’s change the subject.”

“Love it,” she said absentmindedly. “Anyways, will you go to Slug’s Valentine party with me next weekend? As friends, of course. He wants all of us to bring dates and I don’t know who else to ask.”

Draco looked like he was glowing. “Really? You wouldn’t bring Potter?”

“Eh,” she responded. “I’m pretty sure he’s going with Ginny. Plus, I see him around the common room enough as it is.” Y/N waited a few moments. “So? Are you in?”

He shook himself out of what looked to be a weirdly stupified state. “Er, of course. Just let me know when you need me.”

The Hogwarts bells began to chime outside, signifying that the third period block was beginning. 

“Saturday at 8,” said Y/N, turning to leave. “You can meet me in front of the Great Hall.”

“I’ll just walk you from your dorm.”

“Then you have to be there earlier.”

Draco shrugged. “I don’t mind. Anyways, I’m off to Runes. Enjoy Divination.” He bumped her shoulder as he walked past, sending a thrill through Y/N. How had he even known that she had Divination? That was one of the few classes they didn’t share, and she probably just mentioned it in passing once. 

Then again, they were friends. And just because Ron and Hermione hadn’t memorized her schedule, it didn’t mean that Draco was the same kind of friend.

Things only got more confusing as time went on. Draco found any excuse to talk to her, especially when she was with Harry. If he were any other boy, Y/N would’ve immediately assumed the obvious: that he had a crush on her and was jealous. But, obviously, that was impossible. He’d told her upfront that he didn’t have any feelings for her. So why was his behavior so different after that night they spent together on the roof? 

It got even weirder on Friday. Draco once again pulled her away from a conversation with Harry to shove a little box in her hands.

“What’s this, Draco?” she asked, frowning as she turned it around in her hand.

“It’s just something I thought you might like,” he muttered, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Her interest piqued, Y/N opened the box.

“A quidditch bracelet?” Y/N gulped as she looked down at the enchanted diamonds, each glittering with a gentle silver pigment--as well as a slight lavender purple sheen. This was not a normal gift to give to your school friend. This was at least a few thousand galleons--probably even more, considering the enchantments that made the stones glow. Even her considerably wealthy family wouldn’t buy her one because of her horrid track record with jewelry.

He shrugged. “I picked it up while I was at Barnaby’s a bit ago. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want. I remembered I had it when you asked me to Slug’s party and I thought I’d see if you’d be interested.”

“Erm,” said Y/N, stammering, “I’ve never gotten a gift like this from someone before.”

“Believable.” Draco snorted. “Take it and do me a favor. It’s not like I’d wear it. It might as well be appreciated by someone.”

“It’s beautiful, it really is. I’m just worried because I have a bit of a habit of forgetting I’m wearing jewelry and breaking it….”

“I assumed. That’s why I charmed it to be unbreakable,” said Draco quickly. “If you don’t want to wear it, I won’t be offended. I’m just offering.”

Y/N couldn’t help but be thankful that the abandoned classroom he’d pulled her into was dark. Otherwise, he might’ve seen how red her cheeks were. “I guess we’ll figure out how strong your unbreaking enchantments are shortly.”

“Is this your way of saying yes?”

“Help me put it on, will you?” 

She could see dimples form in his cheeks as he allowed a small, close lipped smile to spread across his face while he unclasped the bracelet from the box and gently turned her arm so her palm faced up to the sky. His touch lingered over her skin for a few seconds. Y/N had to remind herself to breathe.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice suddenly low, “About what we talked about last time we were here. About the cabinet, and the Order…”

“Yeah?”

“I think I want to do it,” he said firmly, finally pulling his hands away from her arm and tossing the empty wrapping into his pocket. “Just tell me what you need from me.”

“Nothing yet, really. Just your consent to tell my family about your task. I’ll let you know if they want anything else.” Though Y/N’s response was truthful and concise, her mind was elsewhere as she came to a depressing realization. He wasn’t giving her the quidditch bracelet because he secretly liked her and wanted to spoil her or whatever. He was doing it as a thank you for what she was doing for him and his mother. An elaborate gift for an even more elaborate favor. 

“That’s easy enough,” Draco mused. “In the meantime, I’ll keep sending progress reports.”

“Good plan,” said Y/N, her voice a little deflated. “Thank you again for the bracelet. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She left the classroom and spent the rest of her night stewing over the poor decisions she’d made regarding her emotions over the past week. She knew about the effect that Draco had over her, yet she still invited him to Slug’s party like an idiot. And then she’d let herself get her hopes up over dumb little things like the way he looked at her in class or the quidditch bracelet when he was really just being a friend trying to pay her back for a big favor. 

Saturday night was going to be rough if she couldn’t get her feelings in line.

~

At 7:50 sharp, Y/N waited by the portrait of the Fat Lady. Peeves wailed above her as she tried to practice slow breathing--in for 5 seconds, out for 5 seconds. I am in control of my feelings. I control my own reality.

Then she saw him, and all of the work she’d done trying to quell the butterflies in her stomach at the thought of him amounted to nothing. He looked breathtaking. Y/N bit her tongue as she tried to violently beat back the thoughts of all the things she wanted him to do to her. 

“You look nice,” he said smoothly once he was close enough for it to be socially acceptable. Her mouth went completely dry as she drank in the sight of him in an all-black suit.

“Thanks. So do you.” She internally congratulated herself for getting through that without stumbling over her words too much. Gingerly, she pushed herself off her position of leaning on the wall and began to walk alongside him.

As they ascended the steps, her heel teetered. She reached for Draco’s hand in a moment of sheer panic--and, surprisingly, he latched onto her and held her up. 

“Didn’t your parents ever tell you to not wear shoes you couldn’t walk in?” he said, amused. He didn’t move to let go of her hand. 

“Don’t be rude, Malfoy,” she fired back.  

“You’re not wearing it,” he noted. His lips slightly turned into a frown as he cast his eyes downwards.

Y/N stared at him, her mind barely functioning at this point. “What?” 

“The bracelet,” he said, letting go of her hand to motion to her wrist.

“Oh,” she responded lamely. In truth, she’d tossed it into his quill box while she was in the throes of self-pity over the whole ordeal of unrequited feelings, but she could hardly tell him that. “I took it off to shower and it took too long to put back on.”

“You know, you could’ve just asked me to help again,” he said with a teasing lilt. “I’d only judge you a little.”

She smiled, grateful he wasn’t pushing it any further. “Ever the gentleman. I’ll keep that in mind next time.”

They made it to the fifth floor in no time. Slughorn only seemed slightly concerned with the presence of Draco, but he didn’t say anything to Y/N. As she expected, Hermione and Ron gave her a little bit of side-eye once they saw her choice of a date, but neither of them brought it up and even spoke to her for a little--though they never verbally acknowledged Malfoy. While she was constantly overanalyzing the little things that Draco was doing--the way he offered her a sip of his drink when she spaced out on the way his hands looked holding it for too long, the way he was always touching her in some way, whether it be a hand on her lower back or a lingering grip on her waist--she couldn’t help but feel overcome with the relief that her friends seemed somewhat accepting of her new friendship with Draco. 

Then Harry opened his mouth. 

“Malfoy,” he greeted through gritted teeth. 

“Potter.”

Ginny met her slightly panicked gaze with one of her own. To her surprise, though, Harry just flicked his gaze to where Draco’s hand was lightly poised on her waist, raising an eyebrow. “Congratulations for finally being honest with her. I always thought Y/N deserved a bloke who outright admitted his feelings. I never thought I’d say this, but maybe that is you after all.”

Draco’s hand immediately dropped. “Do me a favor and bugger off.”

“Or maybe I’m wrong,” replied Harry, looking Draco up and down with possibly the pettiest look she’d ever seen on a wizard before. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

“That was weird,” said Y/N, though she secretly revelled in the fact that Harry was picking up on something too.

“I suppose.” Draco slid off one of his rings, running his fingertips over the ridges of his family crest.

“Hey, are you okay?” asked Y/N, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

He nodded. “I’m fine. Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve just never really been a party person.”

“I imagine it’s probably not helping that Harry’s here,” she said, giving his arm a little squeeze before releasing him. “Do you want to just get out of here? I think we’ve been here for long enough to justify ditching.” His grateful smile told her everything. “I had a feeling. Where do you want to go?”

He pondered this for a bit. “I’m not sure. Anywhere but here.”

“Anywhere but here” quickly turned into his dorm as they wordlessly made their way down to the dungeons, passing by Marvin the raven outside Snape’s stores. Y/N’s pulse sped up every time their hands brushed--which seemed to happen far, far too often for it to be accidental on either of their ends. 

“I can’t believe you broke in there,” he said finally, chuckling as the raven cooed at her appreciatively. “And just for me? I’m flattered.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t mention it,” grumbled Y/N. Obviously she’d done it just for him--she was hopelessly obsessed with him. He knew that. She found herself profoundly grateful that she’d been under the influence of Veritaserum that time instead of now--if she’d had so much as a drop of truth serum, she’d spend the entire night telling him how much she wanted him. “Anyways, I’m sorry for how weird Harry was back there. I don’t get why he feels the need to make assumptions about everything.”

Draco hummed, tapping his fingers on her wrist. Just friends, just friends, you’re just friends. Merlin fucking damnit, why did he have such nice hands? “I don’t know. He was certainly sure about it.”

“And I have no clue why,” Y/N said, pretending like she was in disbelief instead of acute pain. “I know you don’t see me like that. I’m not really sure where he’s getting that from.”

“Oh?” Draco let his hand fall, a weird tone coming over his voice. “You aren’t?”

“Well, I remember what you said,” she said matter-of-factly, trying her hardest not to read into the way he was staring at her, watching every fidget of her hands. “It’s not like I’d be self-loathing enough to expect anything different.”

He let out a huff of frustration. “Y/L/N, honestly. I sent you a box of special Wurgie’s lavender chocolates on Valentine’s day. I spend all of my free periods talking to you.”

“Ok?” Y/N couldn’t help but be taken aback by how argumentative his tone was becoming. “I suppose I see how Harry could read into that. But I have to spend my free periods with someone, right? And sometimes I get my friends chocolate on Valentine’s day too.”

“I bought you a whole enchanted quidditch bracelet. It’s the only one of its kind,” he snipped, obviously becoming more agitated. “I spent an entire day trying to find the right unbreaking spell. My father literally wrote to me from Azkaban to ask me why the Gringotts bank statement recorded me taking out that many galleons at once. He thought someone had broken into our account.”

“He doesn’t know that.” Y/N was becoming keenly aware of how close he was standing to her now that they’d stopped walking, her back a few inches from the wall as he leaned into her space. “Even if I had worn it out, there’s no way he could’ve known it was from you.”

“That’s not what I’m--” he began waspishly before clearing his throat and collecting himself. “I’m just saying, those things aren’t exactly platonic.”

“Okay,” said Y/N slowly, trying to turn her thoughts away from how soft his lips looked, “I’ll concede that some things that we do can be read as something more than friendship. But I know how you feel. You told me.”

He wet his lips. “Do you actually think I care about whatever goes in that dim brain of his?”

“Normally, no. But considering the fact that we just had an argument over it, then maybe I’m incorrect in assuming.”

“Well, I don’t,” he said, his voice suddenly quiet. He was close enough that she could smell the traces of that expensive cologne he always wore that reminded her of loose leaf lapsang souchong and fresh parchment. “And I was never trying to argue with you about his perception. I was talking about my actual intentions.”

“What?” Y/N choked out as she tentatively glanced up to see his jaw set. Her heart was pounding so hard it must’ve been audible. What the hell was he talking about?

Instead of answering, Draco gently reached up to her shoulders, walking her back until she was pinned up against the wall. His other hand came to tilt her chin so their eyes met. She would’ve been deceived into thinking he was confident by his unwavering stare, but she’d felt how his hands were slightly unstable. “Merlin, are you going to make me spell it out for you? How many different ways am I going to need to tell you?”

In the end, she wasn’t quite sure who it was who closed the gap--just that, at some point, one of them did, and that she was all of a sudden kissing Draco Malfoy with a fervor that she didn’t know she had in her. His mouth was hot against hers as he pressed her up further into the wall, his knee rising between her thighs to prop her up.

In the recesses of the back of her mind, it vaguely registered that this didn’t add up with what he told her the last night they spent together--but she decided to brush all those concerns off to the nebulous concept of later when his hands tangled into her hair.

The sound of footsteps and students giggling echoed down the corridor, making the pair jump apart. Y/N wiped her lips, trying to fix the smear of her lipstick as Draco frantically straightened out his tie that she’d tugged loose. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t make herself meet his eyes. 

“Do you still want to go back to my dorm?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 

She dared to look up at him, not expecting the sight of his pupils blown out and his cheeks slightly rosy. “If that’s okay, yeah.”

Neither of them attempted to make conversation as he led her through the empty Slytherin common room. She could feel her heart crawling into her throat. She’d never gone to a boy’s dorm before other than during the Veritaserum incident--sure, she’d kissed some boys before, she’d even gone to the Yule Ball with a cute Beauxbatons boy--but she didn’t know how this worked. Was she supposed to immediately start kissing him the moment his bedroom door was closed? Was she supposed to be kissing him now? Was she supposed to be kissing him at all after that?

They made it into his bedroom before Y/N could come to a decision on her next action, so she decided to just not make any moves. Fuck, that was almost worse. Where would she sit? At his desk? No, who the fuck does that? Next to him on his bed? No, too suggestive. Just stand by the door? Merlin, no. She wished that the ground would just open up and swallow her whole so she could sit back in her dorm and think about the way he’d kissed her in private. 

“So,” said Draco. 

“So,” echoed Y/N, finally giving in and sinking down onto the bed next to him. 

“So, I take it that you still like me?” A small smirk danced on his lips. 

Her cheeks blushed into a furious red. “Draco, please don’t make this any more embarrassing than it has to be.”

“What are you...huh?” He shifted so he was on his side, propping up his chin with his palm as he studied her with agonizing attention. “Why would it be embarrassing when I was the one who kissed you?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe the fact that this isn’t the first time? And the fact that I’m waiting for you to tell me you didn’t mean it again?”

“You think I didn’t mean that?” Draco’s eyebrows raised. “Do I need to do it again to get it through that thick skull of yours?”

“I--what--don’t be rude,” she stuttered. 

He rolled his eyes but didn’t lose the upturn of his lips. “I guess so. I suppose I was planning on it anyway.” 

All her nervousness melted away as Draco edged closer, the coolness of his rings pressing pleasantly into her neck. Instead of kissing her immediately like she expected, he traced the outline of her neck up to her ear where he wound his fingers into her hair, finally leaning in so their lips met. 

His skin was soft against hers as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss and pulling her into his lap, his fingers spanning the width of her waist and twisting in the satiny fabric of her dress. When she was out of breath and the pillow she was next to was beginning to get pushed dangerously close to the edge, she finally broke the kiss. 

“Can’t you just tell me how you feel with your words?” she prompted.

“Isn’t it obvious?” said Draco. 

“I thought it was obvious last time.”

“Well, it was. That was before I knew that I was relieved of my task,” he explained, his grip around her waist tightening to tug her ever closer. 

“Why would that matter?”

“Because,” he began, a slightly exasperated look in his eye, “If I had my task and my mother was still at stake, I would’ve had to go back home over the summer. And You-Know-Who would see you in my memories. Plus, I think that being a full-time Death Eater makes it very difficult to be a good boyfriend to someone who’s best friends with Harry Potter. That would complicate things. I knew that if I told you I felt the same way I wouldn’t be able to say no to you.”

“So…” She swallowed. “Does this mean that you’ve liked me all along? Like, from the start?”

“What do you think?” he drawled, his fingers ghosting over the zipper of her dress. “Do you think I just go around kissing random girls in my bed?”

“Well, what about Pansy?”

“Yeah, actually, what about her?” he asked, a little glimmer appearing in his eye. “We haven’t been together since, what, the middle of 5th year? I talk to her as much as I talk to any of my other Slytherin friends. I don’t know what’s got you so up in arms over her.”

“She obviously isn’t over you,” Y/N pointed out. “I just know it.”

“And? I’m over her.” He gave her a knowing look. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t know!” she exclaimed. “I thought that maybe there was something. It’s not like I’m keenly aware of the Slytherin social going-ons.” 

“Sheesh, so defensive,” he tutted, his thumbs now rubbing circles into her shoulders. “It’s almost like you like me or something.”

“Draco!” She swatted at him, but he caught her hand in midair and kissed each of her knuckles, giving her an almost sheepish look. It was all she could do to keep her laughs from getting too loud as he dropped her hand and swept towards her again, kissing her fully. 

Before she knew it, they were rolled over so he was on top of her, hovering over her with his elbows supporting his weight as he pressed warm, open-mouthed kisses along the bare curve of her neck. She closed her eyes and let a soft sigh escape her as his lips drags across the spot under her ear, pushing up further into him.

“You liked that, huh?” He looked far too pleased with himself.

“Shut up,” she said, reaching up to thread her fingers lightly through his hair. It was just as soft as she imagined it to be. Something possessed her to wind her fingers through the locks on the back of his neck and close them into a fist, awarding her with a sharp intake of air from Draco. “You liked that, huh?” she mocked.

He rolled his eyes, muttering a “fucking hell” so quietly that she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to hear it. Despite the exasperation in his tone, his mouth was still fixed in an upturn as he looked down at her, his eyes soft. She couldn’t help but move up to kiss him again, and again, and again, until her lungs were screaming for air and her neck was cramping from the angle.

She let her head fall back onto his down comforter, taking in the sight of Draco with swollen, well-kissed lips. 

“What?” He tilted his head as he regarded her.

“I just love you like this,” she said shyly. “Oh, Merlin, wait, I didn’t mean it like…”

Draco let out a chuckle. “It’s okay. I know what you meant. I love you like this, too. You’re not as difficult.” He rolled off of her, taking a moment to shed his dress coat and pull off his tie.

When he was close enough again, she rewarded his tolerance with a smile and a delicate, nervous kiss on his collarbone, dragging her teeth over his skin for just a moment. The hand that was placed on her back scrunched up the material of her dress as Draco’s breath caught. 

“Your hands are bloody cold,” he complained as her fingers wound themselves under his dress shirt, exploring the new expanse of exposed alabaster skin.  

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked, pulling away and letting go for just a second before he grabbed her wrists together and hauled her back.

 “No.”

“I’ve never…”

“That’s okay,” he said as she settled back onto his lap, reveling in the soft way that he was treating the skin that was exposed by her dress. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”

“I’m just scared,” she suddenly choked out. Where did that come from? “I want you, now, but I don’t want to wake up tomorrow to you telling me that you can’t do this or that you didn’t like it or…” She trailed off, distracted by the way he firmly tapped the outer edge of her thigh.

“I’m not going to do that to you,” he said. “I promise. I made that mistake once. Plus, the burden of the performance is kind of on me anyways, so there’s nothing to be nervous about if that’s a hold up.”

She snorted. “Don’t make me change my mind, Malfoy.” 

Despite her words, the corners of his eyes crinkled. “I mean it. If you want to just lie there that’s fine. As long as you enjoy it, it’ll be great for me.” His hand came up to gingerly brush away the pieces of hair that had fallen in her face before dropping to gently toy with the top of her zipper again--a question. Wordlessly, she allowed herself to be helped out of the garment, letting it fall to the ground before turning back to attack the buttons on Draco’s chest. He made an amused sound as she struggled, eventually unsheathing his wand and opening it up in a second.

“I could’ve done that, you know,” she said rather defensively.

“Yes, yes, I know,” he said, hardly masking his teasing tone. “You’re very capable. Now come here.”

 And so she did.

The idea of sex had always been scary to Y/N. Someone, especially someone attractive enough for her to want to sleep with him, seeing her fully exposed made her want to freeze up and dive under her blankets. But that was before Draco. Somewhere, hidden deep in the back of her brain, lay an anxious switch that flicked off as soon as she was pinned under him with his knee pushing up to part her legs. She no longer felt like she had to be self-conscious--despite how intimidated she was by him, she’d never felt more adored. 

Y/N learned three surprising things about Draco in the span of that night: one, that in some places his skin felt like crushed velvet under her fingers; two, that he melted in her hands when she pressed her lips to the sensitive spot on his neck; and three, that he had a freckle under his jaw. And on his left shoulder. And at the spot where his thigh met his torso.

“What are you thinking about?” he murmured to her after they’d slumped together, his duvet haphazardly flung over their bodies while his fingers traced patterns on her back.

“I’m just so glad you feel the same way,” she admitted. “I thought I was going crazy over your actions not lining up with your words. It was driving me insane.”

Draco let out a little laugh. “I thought it was painfully obvious.”

“Remember when you tripped up the stairs that time you walked with me after detention?”

“Remember when you tripped up the stairs today?”

“You’re ruining this,” she said sourly as she swatted his chest.

Instead of responding, he just snatched her hand and held it hostage. “I’m not the one resorting to physical violence. Which, now that I think of it, is pretty commonplace for you.”

“Hey! If I hadn’t thrown the york pudding at Pansy, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

Draco was silent for a few moments.

“You know I’m right,” she pressed. To her surprise, he shifted uncomfortably under her.

“I’m not so sure,” he finally admitted.

“Huh?” Her features flooded with confusion. “What does that mean?”

“I mean, I’m lucky it worked out like this,” he said hesitantly. “And...so soon. You hated me.”

She sat up, pulling away from his embrace and folding her knees under her. “What are you talking about?” 

“I dunno.” Draco refused to meet her eyes, his fingers instead playing with the edges of his sheets. “This is probably stupid, but do you remember the time we brewed Amortentia in Slughorn’s class?”

She nodded. 

“You told me that it reminded you of a memory,” he continued, “And that you knew you had to have danced with them at some point.”

“I’m aware.” Y/N blinked down at him as she tried to piece the puzzle together.

He finally flicked his gaze up to meet her eyes. “I guess you don’t remember it, but in fourth year we danced together once. I’d never talked to you before--I knew you were friends with Potter and the like--but I just never really stopped thinking about it since.”

“This is so embarrassing,” said Y/N. “How do I not remember?”

He shrugged. “I think you were a little tipsy at the time. I did, though. I’ve never forgotten.”

“Then why were you so mean to my friends?”

“I stopped for the most part,” he pointed out. “And, if you’ll notice, it was mostly towards Harry.”

“I thought that was because he’s the Chosen One.”

“No, it’s because I could see that he liked you and I was jealous. Eventually I just gave up around 5th year, around when I started dating Pansy. I didn’t think there was a chance in hell that I was ever going to be able to be with you, especially not after getting my task.” 

“Oh,” Y/N said as she mulled over this information. “My story isn't as romantic. I suppose I’ve always had a little crush on you too, but I was definitely in denial. I just always found you ridiculously attractive and tragically funny considering what you used to support.”

He glowed down at her, pressing the pad of his thumb into her cheek. “Well, I’m glad I can finally give you what you deserve.”

“Me too.”

~

The weeks began to pass faster after that. Draco never really struck Y/N as a PDA type of guy, but he was surprisingly affectionate. When they began to brew potions together again, he was quick to tuck away her hair behind her ear when she was looking over the cauldron and sent her sweet, private smiles that made her heart flutter. He even sat with her every once in a while at the Gryffindor table when the trio was busy doing whatever they had to do to save the world. Y/N pretended to not notice the whispers that were elicited from her peers when Draco would casually touch her.

They spent as many nights together as they could, but considering how often her friends were giving her dirty looks for stumbling into Potions after not being seen in the Gryffindor Tower for the past day, they had to be reasonable, cutting it down to three or four nights a week. 

Y/N treasured every moment she had with Draco, even when they were fleeting and in between classes. She learned everything she could about him--how he was actually terrified of snakes, how he preferred his tea black, how he had an elaborate morning routine he hardly ever deviated from--and committed it all to mind. Her favorite version of him in her head was the way he looked when he was between her sheets, fast asleep with his arms draped over her. Whenever she woke up before him, she tried to memorize it.

He was absolutely ridiculous with the kind of gifts he gave her. Y/N swore that one day she’d wake up to find that he’d bought the British crown jewels because he “saw them” and “just thought of her”. She now had enough Barnaby’s quills to rival the number of feathers on the country’s entire population of geese, but instead of feeling overwhelmed with gratitude, all Y/N could feel was the impending doom that, one day, those gifts would be the only thing she had left of him. He seemed to know this, too.

Draco always found some kind of reason to pull her away and kiss her senseless, whether it be behind a tapestry or in a broom closet when Filch heard them walking around the castle after curfew. In a way, it was like they were just normal teenagers, enjoying the thrill of the moment and acting out. When she thought of it like that, it made the inevitable events seem more bearable; at least they had some time together.

The letter came with no more context than just a simple “Tomorrow.” Y/N knew exactly what it meant--Narcissa Malfoy was going to finally be taken from the manor. Bellatrix needed to be convinced over the next 24 hours to enter the Borgin & Burke’s Vanishing Cabinet as a distraction, and Y/N needed to be sure of her work on the cabinet.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been here,” Y/N mused absentmindedly as she sat in front of the cabinet. Draco’s head rested on her shoulder after recounting all of the changes he’d made. “That was clever, switching out the conductor clasp with a copper fitting.”

He smiled, pressing a kiss into her shoulder. “I’m not totally daft, you know.”

“Of course I know,” she said, her voice dropping into a soft murmur. Fingers pressed into the soft flesh of her thigh as he pulled her onto him. “Draco, I have to fix this first. Then we can do whatever you’d like.”

“Hm,” was all he said, burying his face in her neck once again and letting out a deep sigh.

“Are you worried?”

He was still for a few moments before dipping his head slightly in a nod.

“You’ll be okay,” she promised, winding his fingers through hers. “I’ll make sure of that.”

“I should be comforting you, not the other way around,” he said softly. “I dragged you into this.”

“I pushed myself into this,” she corrected. “And, plus, it’s not my mother on the line. It’s okay to care, you know.”

Y/N got up, making her way towards the cabinet and meeting his eyes once. They shared a knowing glance as she brandished her wand and whispered a quick fracturing spell, sending cracks down the eastern side of the lunar belt. Her hand shook as she shrank back onto the couch until his arms found her shoulders and turned her towards him. “I can’t believe I just...I just did that.”

Instead of responding, he simply sat up straight and delicately pressed his lips to her forehead, his hand coming around to cradle her for just a moment. “Let’s get out of here.” 

“Out of here” once again turned into Draco’s dorm room.

“I can’t believe this will all be over tomorrow,” Draco said, his back turned as he loosened his Slytherin tie. “I’m going to be gone by Sunday morning.”

“Yeah.” Y/N tried not to let the lump in her throat garner too much attention at the thought of losing Draco into what was essentially the Order’s witness protection program. 

He seemed to notice her uncharacteristic silence, frowning at his reflection before making his way towards her and diligently pressing kisses on her cheeks. Instead of grabbing onto his sleeve cuffs and pulling him closer like she usually did, she just let out a tiny sigh and kept her eyes fixed on the tie slung over his shoulder. 

“Hey,” he murmured, moving so she had to look at him. 

“Hey.” She sent him a watery smile, hoping that he couldn’t see how close she was to tears. 

“What’s wrong?”

Y/N just shook her head, anchoring her bottom lip with her teeth so she didn’t choke up. “It’s nothing.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Don’t pull that with me. I’m not falling for that. I’m going to ask again. What’s wrong?” His hand came up to pull her chin up again so their eyes were level, his eyebrows raised in expectation.

Y/N tried to tell him; she really did. It wasn’t her fault that the most pathetic sounding sob of her life came out of her mouth instead of a confession. Instead of asking any more questions or trying to get her to talk, Draco just pulled her into his arms and held her there, letting her weep into him. His hands came up to rub her back as she struggled to breathe normally.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he whispered, breaking the silence. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“This isn’t about me,” said Y/N miserably. “It’s about you. What if something happens to you while we’re apart? What if I don’t get to see you again?”

Draco made a small sound in his throat, almost like he was holding back a sob himself. “Y/N, don’t worry about me, okay? It’ll all be alright, love. Don’t worry.”

Despite the fact that Draco was doing his best to comfort her, Y/N knew one thing for sure: his word couldn’t stand against fate, and if he were meant to die or disappear during the time that he was hidden away in Italy, there was nothing either of them could do about it.

She turned her head and found herself pressing her lips to his with so much desperation that she hardly even noticed the few stray tears that had made their way down her cheeks. He met her with much more tenderness, his fingers gently brushing away the wetness on her cheeks. For someone as cocky as Draco, he could be so shy when he kissed her, almost like he expected her to change her mind halfway through. 

“I don’t want this to be over,” she whispered as she pulled away, leaving the slightest gap between their lips. 

He cupped her face, his eyes shining. “It’s not over. We have a few hours left.”

To her horror, another strangled gasp left her lips. Draco had her tucked into his arms in an instant, his lips pressing into her hairline. “It’s not over, okay? I just don’t want to hold you back if you aren’t allowed to see me. Don’t wait around for me.”

“I don’t care,” choked out Y/N. “I’d wait forever if it meant I got to have you.”

“I know,” he murmured. “But it’s not fair of me to expect that from you. I don’t know how long this war is going to last.”

“I don’t care about fairness,” whispered Y/N. “I just want you.”

They spent the rest of the night tangled together in his sheets, just waiting for the morning to come. Neither one got any sleep. Instead, Y/N entertained herself by playing with his hands and asking him questions about his childhood--anything to keep her from remembering what was in store for both of them.

It had been decided earlier that Y/N would have no part in the cabinet plan after they ran the information by the Order. Actually, it was decided that she’d have no part in anything beyond just bringing the situation of Narcissa Malfoy to attention. “It’s crucial to your safety that you don’t connect yourself and by extension our family to this,” one of her father’s earlier letters had read. “Doing so puts you and everyone you love in jeopardy.”

That evening, just as dusk set in, she stood with Draco in her dorm for what was the last time, shaking with unshed tears. He just clung to her for the first few minutes, her head tucked under his chin as his hands were clasped around her back. 

“Give me your hand,” he said finally. “I want you to have something.”

She felt something slide on her thumb, her eyes widening as she realized what it was--his family ring.

“Draco…”

“I probably shouldn’t have this on me, anyways,” he explained. “And I want you to have something of mine, something that’s really mine, not just a gift. Just...maybe don’t wear it in public, and if you do wear it as a necklace charm or something. The last thing I want is you to get connected to this--”

Y/N cut off his rambling by pressing her lips to his, his hand feeling oddly bare as it came up to touch her cheek. “If anything happens to you, I love you. I hope you know that.”

He smiled, then kissed her again--so long that it seemed like he was savoring every moment of 

it before finally stepping away. “You know I love you. Always will.”

She managed to fit in one last kiss before he left.

Monday turned into Tuesday which turned into Wednesday which turned into the next week. Before she knew it, her 6th year was almost over. Neither Draco nor Narcissa had contacted her. The Order had been cagey about the details leading to the Malfoys--while she obviously had a general idea as to the location of her Italian vacation home and thus by extent the Malfoys, she hadn’t heard anything about their travels there. All she’d heard was the basic news that everyone had--that Bellatrix Lestrange had been found dead and that the Ministry had taken both Fenrir Greyback and Antonin Dolohov into custody with near fatal injuries.

But that didn’t make her miss him any less. Y/N found herself longing for the nostalgic, innocent time when she shamelessly flirted with him in detention and only worried about whether or not the Trio would like her again. It all seemed so long ago. 

Falling asleep was the worst. She couldn’t smell the lavender of her diffuser or her room spray without relating it to him, couldn’t slide under her sheets without remembering how it felt to fall asleep in his arms. Around May, Y/N came to the most disturbing realization: she wasn’t entirely sure if she remembered what his voice sounded like anymore. Not in the way that meant she wouldn’t recognize it if he called out to her--she would, of course she would--but she couldn’t replicate it in her mind or replay their interactions with convincing accuracy.

Sometimes, on the nights when she couldn’t sleep at all, she envisioned her last interaction with Draco: his snow blond hair ruffled and his face grim as he turned to leave. Even though she couldn’t hear his voice quite right as he told her he loved her, she remembered the scent of his cologne against her jumper and the feeling of his skin against hers as he slipped his family ring onto her hand. It was killing her that she didn’t know exactly what happened to him. He could’ve been taken by a surviving Death Eater and held hostage at the manor. He could be dead. The papers had printed that he’d been pulled into the Vanishing Cabinet and, true to the name, completely vanished, caught in the space passageway between it and the sister cabinet. She’d known that that was the angle the Order was going to take from the start, but it did nothing to ease her anxiety. 

It was even more concerning when she remembered that they’d never agreed upon anything in the future--just simply that they cared about each other in March. At that moment it had been enough. But it wasn’t anymore. All she wanted was for him to appear, give her that stupid wave he sometimes sent to her from across the dining hall when she saw him enter in the morning, and sweep her up into his arms. But that was hard to do when he was countries away. 

N.E.W.Ts had been cancelled, much to the dismay of Hermione, so Y/N had even less things to distract her with. Harry was off with Dumbledore doing Merlin knows what to try and defeat Voldemort. She was left with nothing to do but wallow in her own pity.

In early June, days before Hogwarts classes were officially concluded, someone knocked on her door.

“Come in,” mumbled Y/N. While she had thankfully gotten past the habit of crying every day, she’d instead slipped into a sort of anxious paralysis, lying on her bed after all of her tasks were done.

“It’s me.” Ron’s voice made her sit up in surprise. He hadn’t really spoken to her privately since he’d brokered the peace between her and the rest of the trio. “Do you have time to chat?”

“Sure,” she responded, moving over so he had room to sit beside her. “What’s going on?”

“Lavender just broke up with me,” muttered Ron, his hand coming up to brush at something on his cheek. “And I’ve never felt this way before. Is this what it feels like for you? With Malfoy?”

Y/N met his eyes and saw the same kind of hopelessness in them, the edges pricking with tears. “Yeah. I think so.” It was hard to choke back her own sob, so she just hugged him. He smelled of caramel and spring grass.

“Not to be a prat,” he said, “But you shouldn’t waste any tears over Malfoy. I don’t care if he switched sides in the end, he’s still a snot-nosed tosser to me. When this is all over, we’re going out together so we can find you someone better.”

“You know he switched sides?” She pulled back in surprise. Ron sent her a little wink.

“Of course not. I’m not sure why I said that. I’m sure if it was true, it’d be confidential Order information.”

“Who else?”

“Just Hermione and Harry,” he replied in a low voice. “But we weren’t supposed to figure it out--it was an accident over Easter break while we were eavesdropping on an Order meeting. That doesn’t change anything, though. You could definitely do better.”

“And so could you,” she said. “Remember what I said about you and Hermione?”

He laughed. “I’m working on it.”

Her conversation with Ron shed light on something else that had baffled her as of late--the tentative rekindling of her friendship with Hermione. The witch was actually inviting her to study nowadays, making small talk with her despite steering clear of all topics regarding Malfoy and Death Eaters. 

The last day of school rolled around before she was ready, the final ceremony being spoken by McGonagall instead of Dumbledore while he was still traveling with Harry. As she got up from her seat in the Great Hall, Hermione grabbed onto her sleeve.

“Let’s go for a walk, shall we?”

So, instead of walking straight up to the Gryffindor Tower on the route they’d used countless times since the beginning of their educational career, they took the scenic route along the Black Lake, away from the hordes of students. They walked the shore quietly until Hermione spoke up.

“Draco needs a tutor to cover what he missed this year.” 

Y/N snapped to attention. “What?”

“Narcissa Malfoy has been requesting it and all the professors are busy with Order work,” continued Hermione, not bothering to repeat herself. “They want me to do it. When they ask, I’m going to turn them down and volunteer you instead. Is that okay?”

“Um…” Y/N stuttered. “I’m going to be a pretty shit tutor. Why would you do that for me?”

“I’m going to try and help Harry this summer,” she explained. “And even if I wasn’t, consider it my formal apology. I know it wasn’t right how I treated you this year. I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. I just hope you understand why I was hurt.”

“Of course I understand!” said Y/N, reaching out to touch her elbow. “Considering the way he treated you, I can’t blame you for feeling betrayed. I should be the one apologizing. It just...happened the way it did. I didn’t want to fall for him, but I did anyway.”

Hermione covered her hand with her own and gave it a little squeeze. “I know. Do you think we can put this all behind us? I’ve missed my best friend. Ron and Harry have been driving me crazy this term. Ron told me to tell you that you have permission to smack me if I ever say something condescending to you again.”

“Please, let’s. And I think I’d resort to throwing a nice york pudding instead…”

The familiar bittersweet feeling of looking forward to putting school behind her yet dreading leaving her friends consumed her as she filed onto the Hogwarts Express, looking back onto the castle for the last time. She didn’t know it then, but she wouldn’t be returning. At least not for a long time.

“Luna!” she exclaimed as she ran into someone trying to find her seat. The blonde Ravenclaw sent her a dreamy smile.

“You certainly look happier.” Luna tilted her head as she studied her features. 

“I never got to properly thank you for this,” said Y/N, “But you absolutely saved me this year. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you in January.”

“You don’t need to thank me for being your friend,” responded Luna. “If you really want to, owl me this summer. I think I’ll miss you quite a bit.”

“I’ll miss you more.” She let her new Ravenclaw friend pull her into a hug before she finally retired to her respective seat next to Hermione, who pressed a package into her hand.

“McGonagall just gave it to me,” she whispered into her ear. “Don’t show it to anyone. I think it’s a Portkey.”

True to Hermione’s prediction, it was a familiar object from her manor--an ornate vase that was normally on display in the main foyer. A piece of parchment was rolled up inside.

Activates at 9am on the 10th of June. Closes 5 minutes after the hour. Do not be late.

~

Instead of feeling excited to see Draco, all she could feel was her nerves as she stared at the vase in front of her at 8:55 in the morning. It’d been so long since she’d kissed him that she wasn’t even sure if she remembered how. She literally felt as if her virginity had grown back like her leg hairs did the morning after she cast hair removal spells. 

And not to mention, seeing Narcissa again--that was terrifying. She’d always been a very intimidating woman, dressed impeccably with sharp, aristocratic features much like her son. Y/N doubted she’d take kindly to her son’s tutor being more interested in him than the actual job at hand. 

That assumed he even wanted her still, anyways. Maybe three months in isolation made him come to his senses and realize he’d been absolutely off his rocker for liking her in the first place. Merlin, did he regret it? Was he going to tell her they couldn’t?

Swallowing her worries as the clock chimed at 9, she wrapped her hand around the vase and allowed herself to be pulled across international borders.

The first thing she noticed was the smell. Instead of the florally pine forest that surrounded her family’s main manor, she was greeted with the scent of sea salt and the sound of cawing birds. The sun had long since risen, the temperature a pleasant warmth to her skin after she’d spent a year in the cooler English air. 

Y/N stepped forward, towards the looming white structure that she assumed was her beach cottage. Her feet sunk in the sand as she made her way across the beach. Did he even know she was coming then? She would’ve thought he did, considering that anyone approaching the safe house unannounced would no doubt send everyone into some sort of a panic. 

Finally, she made it to the front door, tapping her wand on the enchanted knocker to signal that someone was at the front door. It creaked, and all of a sudden she was looking into the silver eyes of Draco Malfoy. He looked less pale than he did the last time she’d seen him, like he’d actually begun to spend time in the sun instead of locked away in the Slytherin dungeons. His hair looked somewhat sunbleached. She could see the faintest beginning of unfamiliar freckles across his nose. 

“Hi,” she said shyly, toying with her nails in front of her and not sure whether or not to embrace him. “I’m not sure if you knew, but your mother wanted someone to review the material you missed this year and Hermione didn’t want to, so--”

She didn’t even get to finish her sentence before he crossed through the door, swept her up, and kissed her with conviction. 

“I was wondering when you’d show up,” he whispered when he pulled away. Her eyes pooled with tears as his voice re-registered in her head. 

“I missed you,” Y/N managed. She let her fingers run over his cheekbones and the rest of his face and hair like she couldn’t believe he was actually there in front of her again. “I thought something had happened to you.”

“Something kind of did,” he admitted. “My aunt died.”

“So I’ve heard. Sorry about that.”

“It was her own fault. She brought a dagger enchanted with dark magic and it messed with the energy.” His smile had morphed into something more tense, so she stood on her toes to press a kiss to the corner of his lips, a bit tentative after not touching him since March. 

“You were all I could think about,” she admitted. “I’m not going to be much good at teaching you anything because I honestly stopped paying attention after you left…”

Draco’s smile widened, and she felt her legs turn to jelly. “I don’t mind. You were all I could think about, too. If you ever run out of things to teach me…” His fingers ghosted along her jawline as he spoke, “...I’ve had three months with nothing better to do than to think up ways to make up for the time we’ve spent apart.”

As she basked in the warmth of his embrace and the gentle sound of the Mediterranean ocean lapping at the earth, she allowed herself to relax for the first time in months. There was a war on the horizon, her friends were in danger, and her parents were once again risking themselves to aid the Order. But she’d gotten Draco out of his task. They had at least a summer left together. And at that moment, that was enough. 

“What are you thinking about?” he murmured, tugging her chin up to meet his eyes once again.

She shrugged. “Nothing. Just kiss me again.”

And so he did.

final a/n: thanks for hanging in there! i hope you guys liked it! first off, apologies if my fluff scenes are choppy or repetitive. i’m not very experienced with writing them yet. also, i decided to write draco this way last minute because i like to imagine him as someone who has never had to actually admit feelings for someone and put himself on the line--instead i think he’d try his hardest to get you to confess that you like him if he’s afraid of messing it up. also if you were confused the quidditch bracelet is supposed to be the magic equivalent of a tennis bracelet lol...when i was shopping w my mom i may have been inspired when i saw those bc literally who wears diamonds around their wrist that cost thousands of dollars every day? i asked the saleslady how much the smallest one was and she was like “only 4k and you can wear it anywhere!” like girl i work a minimum wage customer service job and that shit would break in a few seconds. no i would not wear that everywhere. tennis bracelet rant over but anyways ig i was saying that a tennis bracelet def has draco malfoy energy per se

[multi-fandom-imagines-stuff]

Smaller Than This

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff/daughter!reader, Peter Parker/platonic!reader, Wanda Maximoff/reader

Description: The reader is Natasha Romanoff’s daughter, best friend of Peter Parker, and girlfriend of Wanda Maximoff. Growing up in the spotlight is hard enough, but things cross a line when people start commenting on the reader’s weight.

Warnings: eating disorder, swearing, threats of violence

Word count: 3,282

A/N: I know it’s not easy to deal with eating disorders, but please know that you are beautiful and amazing and you don’t deserve to have to suffer through that. Please, if you are struggling with this, reach out for help. <3

✩❀✩❀✩

Black Widow’s daughter spotted in Central Park with new best friend Scarlet Witch and Stark Industry intern Peter Parker! Could Parker be y/n’s new boyfriend?

You laughed and rolled your eyes as you clicked on the tweet. Stalking paparazzi twitter accounts had to be one of your favorite pastimes, simply because the so-called facts they were giving out were false 99% of the time. For instance, this situation? You had gone out for a picnic with Peter and Wanda when those photos were taken, and the paparazzi completely twisted things. Peter wasn’t your boyfriend, he was just your best friend. And Wanda wasn’t your best friend, she was your girlfriend. You chose to ignore the false headline as you went immediately for the replies.

‘Do you see the way y/n’s looking at Wanda? It seems more like there’s something going on between them than there is between y/n and Peter’

You smiled and liked that tweet. You liked messing with people just a bit. Whenever someone would tweet about there possibly being a relationship between you and Wanda, you liked the tweet. It wasn’t enough information to actually confirm the relationship as true, but it was enough to keep people speculating.

You scrolled through several more replies. Most of them were people using the heart eyes emoji or saying how much they loved your mom, but there were a few in there that stuck out more than the rest. That was because they were harsh and hurtful.

‘I don’t understand how someone can live with the Avengers and still look like that. Does she ever even exercise?’

‘She could stand to lose some weight. Instead of going out for a picnic, she should try to skip a few meals’

You read through replies for a few more minutes. Similar comments would pop up now and then, and while there wasn’t an overwhelming amount, there was still enough to make you close down the app and shut off your phone, averting all your attention toward not crying. 

“Miss y/n, dinner has been called,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice rang through your room.

Pushing the thoughts to the back of your mind, you got off your bed and made your way to the dining room. There, Peter and Wanda were setting the table while Steve and Bucky carried out the food.

You walked up behind your girlfriend and wrapped your arms around her waist, resting your chin on her shoulder. You felt her jump slightly before she realized it was you and relaxed into your touch. You placed a kiss on her cheek.

“I love you,” You whispered in her ear.

“Hey! What did we talk about?” Tony directed at you, raising an eyebrow at you and causing you to roll your eyes.

“No lovey-dovey shit at the dinner table,” You mumbled.

“Language!” Steve scolded you as Clint joined the conversation.

“Oh, come on, Tony,” He said. “It’s young love. It’s harmless and adorable.”

“It makes me want to hurl,” Tony retorted.

To onlookers, it may have sounded like Tony was being a real dick, but you knew he was just teasing you. He’d never admit it, but secretly he loved how happy you and Wanda made each other.

“Watch it, Stark,” Your mom shot him a glare. “That’s my kid you’re talking about.”

Your head whipped up at your mom’s voice. She had been on a mission for the past week and wasn’t supposed to get home for another three days.

“Mom!” You yelled as you ran toward her, wrapping your arms around her as you squeezed her tight.

“Hey, kiddo! I’ve missed you!” She said, hugging you back and kissing you lightly on the forehead.

“I’ve missed you, too!”

“As much as I hate to break up this reunion,” Bucky said, causing you to pull away from your mom. “Steve and I slaved over dinner and it’s getting cold, so let’s eat.”

You took your seat at the table—in between Peter and Wanda—and filled your plate with the spaghetti and garlic bread Steve and Bucky made. Everyone was silent as you all dug into your food and, you had to admit, it tasted amazing. 

When Steve and Bucky first moved in, neither of them were allowed near a stove without supervision. They had started too many accidental fires. But after lots and lots of practice, the two of them easily became the best cooks in the tower.

After dinner, you excused yourself to your room. Your phone was still lying face down on the bed, so you grabbed it and opened it up. Right away, you noticed several notifications from twitter. Upon further investigation, you found that the rude comments people were saying about you had extended to your messages. Now, you had complete strangers messaging you about how you needed to ‘lose weight’, or ‘eat less’, or ‘exercise more’. A few of the messages even called you a ‘disappointment to the Avengers’.

You deactivated your account and deleted the app from your phone, but the damage was already done and you knew it. So you came up with a plan and decided to set it into motion the next morning.

✩❀✩❀✩

You woke up in the morning to your alarm blaring. Checking the time, you saw it was 4:30, and you wondered why your alarm was going off so early before you remembered the plan you had made the night before.

You got out of bed and quickly dressed in athletic attire before running out of your room. You knew Steve liked to run in the mornings, so you sat in the kitchen waiting for him.

When he finally sauntered in at 5:00, he was more than surprised to see you sitting there.

“Y/n?” He asked. “What’re you doing up so early?”

“Can I run with you today, Uncle Steve?” You asked him, a pleading look on your face that you knew he couldn’t say no to.

“Yeah, sure,” He said. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be sleeping?”

You nodded. 

“I want to start running. My mile time in P.E. class has been slacking lately and I don’t want to fail the class.”

You were surprised yet proud of how quickly you were able to come up with that lie, and you were happy to see that Steve believed every word of it.

So that’s how you spent your morning: running laps with Steve.

The two of you finally called it quits around 6:15 and parted ways. Steve went off to do whatever he did during the days, and you went off to squeeze in a quick shower before school.

By the time you were done with your shower, it was nearly 7:00, which meant you had to rush to get dressed. You finally made it to the kitchen, where Wanda was already waiting for you. The two of you yelled a quick ‘bye’ to whoever was listening before you started the quick walk to the bus stop.

You felt Wanda’s hand interlock with yours and a smile arose on your face as you squeezed her hand. You two didn’t want to publicly disclose your relationship yet, so you knew the minute you reached the bus stop you’d have to let go.

✩❀✩❀✩

At lunch, you sat at a table with Wanda, Peter, MJ, and Ned. You skipped the food line and instead opted to sip at a bottle of water.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” Peter asked you.

“What do you mean?” You shot back, not quite sure what he was getting at.

“You’re not eating.”

Shit. You had to think of a lie, and you had to be extra careful since your girlfriend could read minds. She promised you she’d never read your mind without your consent, but you were still wary.

“Uh...I’m just not feeling well,” You said. “My stomach is feeling a little flip-floppy and I don’t want to push it.”

To your luck, they nodded it off and changed the topic, not questioning you again for the rest of the day.

That night at dinner, you pushed the food around on your plate, eating a few bites here and there. It wasn’t hard to pretend you had eaten, especially since your family was so big. Everyone seemed to be so caught up in conversations with other people that they didn’t notice when you got up and scraped your food into the trash.

✩❀✩❀✩

These habits carried on for a few more weeks. You’d wake up every morning to run with Steve, make up some excuse for why you didn’t eat lunch, and you’d have a few bites of dinner before sneakily trashing it. On most weekends, you chose to spend your time training with your mom. You claimed it was so that you could stay sharp with your self-defense skills, and while that wasn’t necessarily a lie, it wasn’t the full truth, either. But your mom never questioned it, and you were glad.

You seemed to fly under the radar, until one Sunday afternoon.

You walked into your room after training with your mom to find Peter and Wanda waiting for you.

“Hey, guys,” You greeted, throwing yourself into a chair and downing half a bottle of water. “What’s up?” 

“We know,” Wanda said, a stern yet concerned look on her face.

“Know what?” You asked her, although you could feel your heart rate rising. You knew what she was talking about.

“That you haven’t been eating,” Peter joined in.

“What’re you talking about? Of course I’ve been eating.”

That was a lie. Your stomach hadn’t been properly filled in weeks and you couldn’t remember the last time it wasn’t rumbling. But that wasn’t important. What was important was the fact that you were finally losing weight. There’s no way you could stop now.

“Cut the crap, y/n,” Peter said, catching you by surprise. “We’ve been watching you. I can’t even remember the last time you bought a school lunch.”

“And you pick at your food at dinner every night,” Wanda added. “I haven’t seen you eat more than three bites. You think no one notices, but you’re wrong. And I can feel you, love. You feel...empty.”

Wanda rested her hand on your knee as you tried to process what was happening. You had been so good at hiding this, how had they found out?

“You guys, I’m—” You started before Peter cut you off.

“Don’t say you’re fine, because you’re not. We know it, and you know it, so please stop lying to us, y/n. We just want to help.”

“I have it under control, I don’t need help,” You protested. “Just...please don’t tell my mom.”

“Y/n—”

“Wanda, please,” You begged. “My mom has enough to worry about as it is. I don’t need to add this to her stress as well. I promise, I have it under control. I’m alright.”

Wanda and Peter shared a look before turning back to you. 

“We’ll keep this between us for now,” Peter said, and you felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders.

“But, if things get any worse, we won’t hesitate to bring your mom into this,” Wanda warned.

You nodded and the two of them left, Wanda kissing you quickly before walking out of the room. 

‘I just need to hide it better’ you thought to yourself. ‘This is all my fault for being too obvious about things. I need to do better.’

Wanda and Peter had dropped the topic for the time being, until a week later, things took a turn for the worse when your P.E. teacher announced that your class was running the mile that day.

Thanks to training with Steve, your mile time had improved and you were one of the fastest in the class. However, due to malnutrition, any sort of exercise made you extremely lightheaded. 

You ignored the part of your brain that was telling you to make up some excuse to sit out. You convinced yourself you just weren’t drinking enough water so you drank an entire water bottle and went to class.

You were about halfway done with your mile when the corners of your vision turned black. You blinked a few times, trying to edge it away, but it was no use. By now, you heard a loud ringing in your ears and the world started spinning around you. You slowed down a bit, trying to regain your composure when you felt your knees buckle underneath you, and you were plunged into a world of darkness, not feeling it when you hit the ground.

✩❀✩❀✩

When you awoke, you were still laying on the field, your entire class swarming around you. You were trying to sit up when you felt something attached to your hand. 

You looked to the right and saw Wanda sitting there, looking scared as hell.

“Miss Maximoff, Mr. Parker, please escort Miss Romanoff to the nurse’s office,” Your teacher ordered.

You felt Wanda help lift you to a standing position and once you were up, you felt the world start spinning again. You shut your eyes tight as two arms, you assumed they belonged to Wanda and Peter, wrapped around either side of your waist. Soon enough, the dizziness ceased and you opened your eyes, signaling for Peter and Wanda to start walking with you.

You made it to the nurse’s station where you saw your mom already waiting.

“Mom?” You asked, wondering how she had gotten to your school so quickly.

“Peter called me the second he saw you fall,” She explained.

You, Wanda, and Peter were dismissed from school early, and your mom led you all back to her car. You sat in the passenger seat while Peter and Wanda sat in the back.

“What happened?” Your mom demanded.

The tone of her voice scared you a little bit, but you knew it was filled more with concern than it was with anger.

“I must’ve just gotten overheated or something,” You lied, knowing exactly why you passed out. “I was doing fine one second, and then the next I was on the ground.”

“That’s not true, Ms. Romanoff,” Peter interjected.

You whipped your head around to him and shook your head, silently pleading him to not tell her.

“What do you mean?” She asked. “Do you know something I don’t?”

“Peter, stop,” You said, panicking at what was about to be said.

“Y/n hasn’t eaten a proper meal in a month,” Wanda admitted.

You shot your girlfriend a look of betrayal before turning back around to face forward.

“You, what?!” Your mom blared. “Y/n, is this true?”

Your silence was enough of an answer for her to understand that yes, it was true.

“Y/n, baby, why?” Your mom said.

You could tell she was trying to be strong, but her voice was cracking.

“Because I’m not like you guys, okay?!” You finally snapped, letting loose all of your pent-up emotions. “I don’t have a super-human metabolism like Peter, and I don’t have a perfectly in-shape body. I’m not an avenger and it sure as hell shows. Even people I don’t even know were making comments about it on twitter.”

“Is that why you disabled your account?” Peter asked, realization hitting him.

You nodded and looked down at your fingers, not wanting to make eye contact with any of them.

By now, you had reached the tower and your mom put the car into park, turning to face you.

“Y/n, I know it’s been hard for you to grow up in the spotlight, constantly being compared to us but this isn’t healthy,” She said, cupping your chin and lightly pulling your head up to meet her gaze. “If I had known all of this, I never would have let you do all those extra training sessions with me. It’s not safe for you to keep exercising like this when you’re not giving your body proper nourishment.”

“I can’t—” You sniffed. “I can’t stop. I need help.”

You felt a tear roll down your cheek as your mom brushed it away, pulling you in for a hug before the four of you got out of the car.

Once inside, your mom told you to sit down in the living room while she left for a few minutes. When she returned, she had the rest of the team with her and you could only assume she had given them the run-down on your situation. 

You were slightly hurt that she had shared your personal life like that, but you knew it was for the best.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Your mom said once everyone was settled. “Y/n, you’re going to help with dinner every night. I know it can be hard once you’ve developed a food phobia, but when you’re in control of what we eat every night it makes things a little easier. No more throwing your food in the trash, okay? As for school, I’ll be making you a homemade lunch each day, and Peter and Wanda will be keeping an eye on you and will be reporting back to me. First thing tomorrow, I’ll call and set you up an appointment with a therapist. Bottling up your emotions will only make things worse, trust me. You need to talk to someone, and a therapist will help to give you healthier coping mechanisms.”

You listened as your mom laid out these new rules before telling you to go lie down. As you got up to leave, you were bombarded with your family hugging you and telling you they were there for you. You honestly had never felt more loved and supported in your life.

You finally made your way to your room, lying down in bed. A few minutes later, you heard a knock at your door.

“Come in,” You said weakly.

The handle turned and Wanda walked in, using her powers to levitate a tray behind her. You sat up and she put the tray down in your lap. On the tray, you saw there was a plate of cheese and crackers.

You looked down at the tray before looking up at your girlfriend. You forced yourself to pick up one of the crackers and take a bite, your mind screaming at you the entire time. But you were sick. You knew this. You wanted to get better.

“I’m sorry for telling your mother,” Wanda spoke. “You were slowly killing yourself and I couldn’t stand by and watch it happen. I’m so sorry, y/n. Can you forgive me?”

“I don’t blame you, Wan,” You told her. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I never should have forced you and Peter to keep this a secret.”

Wanda wrapped you into her arms, squeezing tightly. The two of you stayed like that for a long time before you pulled away and, bite by bite, finished the snack she had brought you.

✩❀✩❀✩

You had been in recovery for about a month now, and while things were far from easy, you knew you could do it. Your family was your support system and they were right there by your side every step of the way.

You were sitting on the couch with Peter and Wanda, you and your girlfriend tangled in each other’s arms as you watched your mom on tv. She was finishing up a press conference.

“Oh, and one last thing before I go,” She spoke toward the camera and the audience. “Whoever decided to make awful comments about my daughter online, I am a trained assassin and I will find you.”

[thatfanficstuff]

Make Me Forget (Part 1) - Elijah Mikaelson

Pairing: Elijah x reader

Warnings: angst

A/N: Celebration Summer #8. There is a part 2 to this so don't fret. Prompt is Person A gets injured Person B is not happy.

wc: 1759

***

Elijah Mikaelson and his family had left Mystic Falls to move to New Orleans months ago. And they’d left you behind in the process. After he swore to you that you’d never have to be alone again, he’d left you with little more than a letter telling you it was for the best. Associating with his family was dangerous. He couldn’t put you in danger. It would be better if you forgot about him. All of them.

What a load of shit. Elijah had swept into your life and turned everything upside down. For the first time you were a priority to someone other than yourself. It didn’t take long for him to become the center of your universe. You moved into the house and became part of the family. Klaus and you would create art and bitch about the Scooby gang. Rebekah took you shopping. Kol would try to get you into trouble while you tried to keep him out of it. And you succeeded for the most part. You’d kept him from getting killed by Jeremy and Elena. Surely, that was enough to cement your place in the family.

But they’d still left you. And it had been Elijah’s doing according to the rest of them. You texted and called and they told you how much they hated leaving you behind but Elijah had put his foot down. Threatened to leave them all if they went against his wishes.

Rebekah did admit it was dangerous at the moment. A bit of trouble with a pregnant werewolf and some witches. She still insisted it would be better with you there. That they’d all protect you.

Klaus begged you to come to his rescue. Elijah and the werewolf would be the death of him, he swore.

Kol just missed his friend. He spent hours talking about all the things the two of you could do if you were there.

Elijah was silent. There hadn’t been one answered phone call or response to any of your texts.

Rebekah swore he missed you. That he was a miserable bastard without you.

Klaus and he had argued terribly when the hybrid threatened to fetch you from Mystic Falls and bring you home where you belonged. Elijah had yelled and destroyed half the room.

Kol said when there was a moment of peace, Elijah sat alone and stared at a picture of you. “I caught him crying, Y/N. It was horrible,” he told you, dramatically.

You didn’t necessarily believe any of them. After all, he found it so easy to leave you, why would he brood over your absence. But you missed your family. You were going to New Orleans. Even if Elijah was angry with you for going against his wishes, the rest of them would welcome you with open arms. You’d just have to stand your ground with the suited Original.

There were probably a thousand better ways to get to New Orleans, but you took a bus. It was cheap and you didn’t have to drive. And even better, it didn’t involve flying. You hated to fly. You stepped off the bus and adjusted your backpack on your shoulder. You’d decided to travel light. While you intended to stay forever, you weren’t sure everyone else would be on board with that. If you did stay, you knew Rebekah would be more than happy to take you shopping to replace your clothes. And Klaus would pay for them if Elijah didn’t. It used to bother you when they spent their money on you, but you’d long gotten over it.

After typing in the address on your phone, you started to follow the walking directions. You were actually quite close to your destination when you were yanked into an alley. Almost before you had a chance to process what had happened, teeth tore into your neck. Son of a bitch. You fumbled in your bag as the vampire drank deeply. Your fingers wrapped around your stake and you slammed it into the asshole attacking you. He hissed in pain and stumbled back giving you the chance to pull it out and stab him again with more precision.

He collapsed at your feet and you stepped over him as you pulled a rag from your bag. You pressed it against the wound and tried to look inconspicuous as you stumbled the rest of the way to your family. Your head spun as you reached the door and you knocked quickly.

The door flew open to reveal none other than Kol Mikaelson. He grinned at seeing you, but it faded immediately when he noticed the state you were in. He grabbed your bag in one hand and placed the other on your arm to lead you into the house. “What happened to you, Darling?”

You made a sound of annoyance. “Guess.”

“Don’t be cheeky.” He dropped your bag by the stairs and continued to steer you through the house. “Brothers, we have a visitor,” he said when the two of you reached a library. Nik and Elijah’s heads snapped in your direction.

Nik stood in front of you in a flash. “Bloody hell, love. Can’t stay out of trouble for five minutes, can you?” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s good to see you at any rate. Come, Kol.” The hybrid strode from the room, dragging his protesting brother along with him.

A moment later, Elijah stood in front of you. Dark eyes stared at you as he lifted a hand to your neck. A muscle ticked in his jaw as he pulled the rag away to get a view of the damage. His hand clenched at his side and you flinched. He’d never hurt you, but it was rare to see him so angry. And you weren’t certain if he was angrier at the vampire that attacked you or you for being there.

His lips pursed as he stared at you a moment longer, then he bit into his wrist and offered it to you. You drank enough to heal then stepped back. He strode away to the far side of the room. Keeping his back to you, he hooked one hand around the back of his neck and rested the other on his hip. “What were you thinking coming here? Did I not make myself perfectly clear that you are not welcome here?”

“I missed you.” God, did that reasoning sound pathetic to you now. How had you ever thought that would be enough for him?

He was back in front of you in a flash. “You deliberately went against my wishes. You followed us here despite knowing I did not want you here and look what happened. Do I need to say anything else to prove my point that it is too dangerous for you to be near us?”

“This had nothing to do with you, Elijah. This was some random asshole vampire picking the wrong person to snack on. I killed him for it.” Frankly, you didn’t understand how he could go from being madly in love with you to not wanting you around overnight. “Everyone else wanted me to come. Didn’t you miss me at all?”

“How could I miss someone that cares nothing for their own wellbeing?” he stated quietly, making you flinch again. It would have been better for him to yell. At least then you’d know he was simply angry with you. His monotone delivery made you believe that he simply didn’t care. Tears instantly flooded your eyes. Why had you asked that question when you were so afraid of the answer? He stepped past you and stopped at the door. “You can stay the night. Tomorrow you leave New Orleans and you will not return,” he said in a low tone. Then he was gone.

You didn’t move as tears streamed down your face. Vaguely you were aware of Elijah and Nik yelling at each other elsewhere in the house, though you couldn’t make out the words. Then you were pulled into a firm chest as arms wrapped around you. “Elijah’s an idiot, darling,” Kol whispered to you.

When you just continued to cry without saying anything, he swept you up in his arms and carried you to one of the chairs. He sat and placed you on his lap. You leaned against his chest and he played with your hair in an attempt to calm you. “It will be all right, Y/N. You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to. You and I can get an apartment on the other side of town. We’ll put it in your name and you can tell Elijah to fuck off when he wants in.”

That pulled a laugh out of you though it sounded rather pathetic. “At least I know why it was so easy for him to leave now. I mean, what a bother I must have been. I always wondered what he saw in me and now I know. Nothing. God, you’d think it would be a relief to finally know, right? So why does it hurt so bad?”

“As angry as I am with my brother right now, Y/N, I don’t think—”

“No. It’s okay, Kol.” You sat up and wiped the tears from your cheeks. “You don’t have to lie to me anymore. Rebekah said him and the wolf seemed to be getting along. Maybe he’ll love her and it won’t be a lie.”

You stood and held up a hand to stop him when he moved to follow. “I’m not angry with you, Kol, but I need to figure out how to live without all of you. See, he told me he loved me and that he’d never leave me. That I’d never be alone again and he abandoned me at the first opportunity. And he took my family with him. And when I come back to all of you, he made it very clear that I am not wanted. I was prepared for him to be angry. I wasn’t prepared for him to not care.”

You paced the floor as you thought about your next step. Kol’s dark eyes followed you. He was at a loss at what to do, how to comfort you. He could beat the shit out of his brother but, while that might make him feel better, he doubted it would help you any. Suddenly, you snapped around to face him. “Compel me.”

His brows shot up. “What?”

“Compel me to forget. Just let me forget all of you.”

[oitommothetease]

Invisible String (3/?)

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Description: James Buchanan Barnes, the owner of the most expensive-looking club in town and your new apartment. He was a dick and you hated him. What could possibly go wrong when you, the new girl in town, start bartending at his club to pursue your dreams?

Word Count: 1.5k

After an exhausting day, Bucky just wanted to go home, have a drink and pass out in his bed. But of course, he had to forget his keys and phone in his office. He debated going back to the club because he knew you were going to be there. 

It wasn't like he was avoiding you, he just prevented going to places where he knew you'd be present. He stayed in his office or was just absent from the club during your shifts. Well, maybe he was avoiding you.

He was an ass to you, which he usually didn't care about because he was an ass to everyone. But for some unexplained reasons, he felt bad after being mean to you. When you walked in with your kind of a shitty story with a lot of plot holes about how you wanted to change scenery, he assumed you were sent by his enemy, Rumlow.

All it took was one background check for him to figure out you weren't lying. What he couldn't figure out was why you'd leave a perfect job in a big city and move to a smaller one and work in a club. 

He didn't need anything when he walked into that store. James Buchanan Barnes is one of the richest people in the town, of course, he had people to do mundane chores for him. He came to that store for you. He needed to apologize to you. Not only that, but he felt something weird in his stomach like he had bad hot dogs, but this was worse. It was his guilt eating him up and stealing his sleep. 

But Bucky Barnes did not feel guilty, not for some girl that threw her perfect life away for a bartender job. So he offered the job to you, simply because you wanted it so much. Maybe his approach was not ideal, but he was trying. He also didn't exactly offer it to you, but he did give it to you and left, hoping that you'd come to his club and take the job, which you did.

He would drop extra tips on your counter every now and then. He would make sure that you do not have to serve their rough customers. Likewise, he was sure Wanda and Pietro could handle anything thrown in their way like drunk touchy customers, drunk flirty customers, drunk angry customers. Furthermore, he made sure you got the busy business customers that are there for work.

It's not like he didn't think you couldn't protect yourself, but again, he barely knew you. Honestly, there wasn't much to dig about you either. You didn't lie about your college and work, and that was enough for him to believe you weren't some double agent sent to spy on him and his business. 

Still, he didn't like you. He didn't like how you were always sweet and polite to customers. He didn't like how you joked with Peter and how your eyes lit up when you laughed at something that Wanda said. Not only that, but he didn't like that his family and friends trusted you enough to hang out with you. You weren't a spy, but you could still be some sort of hypnotizing witch by the way everyone liked you in an instant. Mostly, he didn't like how he felt after getting a glimpse of you. He didn't like that he was so intrigued by you and how he wanted to know you. He didn't like how his eyes would linger on you during daily CCTV camera inspection a little longer than necessary.

Bucky just wanted to get his stuff and go back to his place as soon as possible. He didn't expect anything when he walked through the door, he specifically didn't expect his nemesis assaulting his employee.

After shoving Rumlow out of his club and away from you, the mob boss instantly made his way towards you. Bucky didn't know how to approach or console you. He couldn't touch you, he was aware that you wouldn't react positively to a man replacing the touch of a man who forced you. 

He stretched out his open palms towards you in surrender and submission, hoping that you'd realize he wasn't going to attack you.

"Hey, y/n." He gently called for you.

You flinched, but when you recognized the voice, you reluctantly opened your eyes to find his blue ones and outstretched palms in front of you.

"Hey, it's me. I'm not going to hurt you."

Carefully, you placed your hands in his, and he held yours very lightly like he was scared that you'd break. Maybe he wasn't wrong. Softly, he started running his thumb in circles on your palm in an attempt to soothe you. 

"I'm sorry," you blurted out, closing your eyes in regret.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have worn this," you could feel the tears streaming down your face, but you didn't want to face him. "It's all my fault "

In your head, you were convinced it was your fault and Mr. Barnes, your boss, is going to yell at you and fire you. You were preparing yourself for another blow that never came. 

"Hey, y/n. Please look at me."

Unwillingly, you did. 

"You listen to me very carefully. It wasn't your fault. The only person at fault here was that fucking asshole."

Bucky knew it was your trauma talking. He never forgot the resilient girl that kept dropping random movie references in a conversation with a mob boss. He thought maybe you didn't know, but both of you knew you were not naïve. He couldn't let your susceptible brain convince that strong girl that it was her fault, he desperately needed you to know it wasn't.

"No, I shouldn't have-"

"It's not your fault," he told you carefully, still maintaining eye contact. He knew you were in a vulnerable state, and he should not push you, but he also knew that your mind is going to conjure up stuff to deal with trauma. He couldn't let your mind justify a heinous, vile act of a monster. "Do you understand that?"

Begrudgingly, you nodded, and Bucky finally let a breath out he knew he was holding.

"Is there someone I can contact? A partner or a family member?"

You shook your head and took your hand away from his grasp.

"Okay, so here's what we're going to do. I'm going to take you home and we are going to talk about this in the morning. We'll take further steps when you're feeling a little better," he planned. "Does this sound okay?"

Bucky understood your nod as a yes and proceeded further," Doll, you gotta let me in, please. I can't take you home if you don't talk to me."

You blinked a few times, trying to ground yourself. Finally, you took your phone out of your back pocket and handed him the device with your address on the screen. He took it from you and without saying another word he started moving towards the door and you followed.

The mob boss would never accept this to anyone, but he frequently kept looking over his shoulder until you were seated in his car. He kneeled down and put the seatbelt on you before making his way towards the driver's seat, but when you flinched at the contact of his skin with yours, it made his heart ache.

The car ride was silent, which you didn't know whether to appreciate or not. On one hand, silence can be deafening, leaving you alone with your thoughts. On the other hand, noises can be annoying. So you settled with humming a Taylor Swift song and Bucky didn't say anything. He tried to keep his eyes on the road, but every 5 seconds he would glance your way.

After reaching your home, Bucky stayed in the living room while you got dressed in your bedroom. You called for him when you were finally settled in the comfort of the silk bedsheet you brought last week. Bucky tucked you in bed, making sure that you were comfortable and he was about to leave, but you broke the silence at last.

"What happens next?" you asked.

"If you feel comfortable, then we'll talk about this tomorrow," he informed you. "But I swear to God, doll, I will make him suffer for what he did to you."

You didn't know what that meant, so you just nodded.

"I'm going to lock the door behind me, doll. Sleep well." 

"Please stay," you murmured, already drifting off to sleep.

You didn't know whether he heard you or not. You didn't know whether he stayed or not, even if he heard you. You were too tired to check and before you knew it you were already asleep.

TAGS: @bananapipedreams  @akkinda10​

[plush-rabbit]

Mental Toll - Brothers.

Request: My mom kicked me out, her 15 year old daughter out of her house. And I've been staying with my aunt but everything is taking a mental toll on me . Can I get a Beel, mammon, Leviathan, or asmo comfort?

A/N: Sweetheart, I’m sorry for this. It can be all so difficult for you, but please take care of yourself. Remember that nothing is your fault, you’re a child, you’re gonna be okay. Please don’t keep these emotions bottled up (im also assuming this is comfort on your situation, so yeah)

-

Mammon:

You’ll always have a place with him. He’s taken on a guardian role for you and while he might have hated it at first, he’s grown attached to you. Your guardians in the Human Realm don't matter. They decided to leave you, so now you’re here with him and he isn’t going to abandon you anytime soon. Mammon may not know what to do when he finds you crying and unable to speak, but he cares and he’ll try to show that to you, telling you that you can bunk with him for the night- you get to take his bed and he’ll sleep on the couch, you don’t have to be alone.

He isn’t exactly the best at comforting, using a bit too many words only to come up short, but once that initial nervousness wears off, he’s comforting. He’s taken care of a child before- granted they were much younger, and was then put into the care of witches- he knows what a scared kid looks like. He’ll offer what he can to you and let you rest your head on his bicep as he listens to you ramble about what happened. He won’t ever push for you to talk, but it might help sort out all those feelings that are bubbling up inside of you.

Of course it’s difficult for the both of you. He isn’t too knowledgeable about the mentality and fragility of a human mind and emotions but he can assume to be essentially kicked out of a parent’s home can be rough. He’s dealt with it before even if he knew the risks. He remembers the nights of pain and agony, the silent suffering that was thick in the air, and the lack of self-care. He comes in with a small meal every day, grabbing random vitamins that he thinks might be good for you, and just lets you rest. You see a more hidden side of Mammon, the one that cares too much, that acts almost like a parental figure and have a comforting smile and gives nice hugs.

You aren’t free to rest forever. He’s also seen what that kind of damage that can do to someone's mental health. He won’t ever pressure you to go out and do something you don’t want to, but you do have to move from the spot on his bed. You can hide yourself in his room for as long as you want, but you can’t live your life stuck in a bed. He knows that that isn’t good for anyone. You’ll have all the space that you could want and need, but you need to also talk to him and take care of yourself.

It’s his role as your guardian to take care of you and make sure that nothing bad would happen to you- you being in the Human Realm makes no difference to that. You’re still under his protection and he’ll take care of you as much as he can. Mammon can be brash, and have his sin take over, but it isn’t all that he is. He can be selfless and take care of you and let you just relax around him. There’s no pressure put on you and he’ll protect you. He promises that- he’s a demon, he’s lived for a long time and he’ll live for an even longer time and as long as he’s around, he’ll protect you.

Leviathan:

Coming to Leviathan is certainly a choice. He cares- of course he does! But, he doesn’t know what to do. Of course he knows how it feels, but it was different and so long ago and buried under memories and the fictional world, that he chose to forget that. It’s different with you. You’re a child who’s crying and at a loss for a parent that left them and it must hurt. He’s awkward, but he’ll sit by you and have a hand on your back telling you to take all the time that you need. He’s always here in his room after all, so you can always find him.

In the beginning, he doesn’t know what to do. Surely, there should be words or tips online that could help him translate his words and feelings better than “that sucks.” An apology feels so fake and unsure and he doesn't want that for you. You deserve something real, an actual meaningful interaction that might help you but he comes up blank. He doesn’t know what exactly he should say, so he just lets you rest beside him as he tells you his own encounter with abandonment and what helped him.

He tries to make you feel better in a way that helps him- via distractions. It helped him and maybe it could help you. You like to spend time with him so you both must share some type of interest in common. He feels so proud of himself when he offers you to read his manga or play some of his games. It’s a nice distraction and depending on what you choose, it can be a great way to just open up emotions and see what could effectively help trigger just that blockade of emotions for the both of you. You don’t have to do it, but it proves to be nice to just immerse yourself in some fictional tale.

Eventually, he starts to read what you read once you’ve fallen asleep. You gravitated towards it for a reason and it’s easier to talk to you like that. You get to be the hero, the protagonist or whoever you want, and he knows the struggles that they go through. He can help through an outside glance. It starts off simple, just him mentioning comments, prying for information about why you like a certain character and then in just a blink of an eye, you’re crying. You opened up and he’s by your side.

Comforting you is a bit awkward, but what could he expect. He sits by you and lets you talk through your emotions even if it makes no sense- your words are garbled and out of order- but he gets the main point of it. Leviathan understands that you’re hurting and who wouldn’t be. You’re a child, and the love of a parental figure means a lot. He might not be confident to have that type of relationship with you, but he can certainly be a big brother who lets you come into his room and sleep in a futon that he has when you’re feeling particularly lonely.

Asmodeus:

His eyes are sad, the usual glow and glimmer dimmed and his smile once beautiful and stretched, it pulled into a soft frown. Even in sadness, he still looks beautiful. With a gentle pull, he brings you into his room, and lets you set your stuff down on the floor. Asmodeus holds your face in his hands and gingerly wipes away your tears. You’ve had such a long day and it’s no secret that he has the best bath in the house, so he lets you go use it in order to destress, just enough to clean yourself and have time to gather your feelings and thoughts.

The room is suited to him and to only him, but he figures that you wouldn’t want to be alone. He has to rid some of the extra pillows on the bed, rid of the stronger scents in the room in order to not congest you more, and just declutter his room a bit more. It’s suited for him, a demon who can and lives for the finer things, but for you, he needs you to be able to breathe. The sheets are replaced, the towel that he has set for you soft and fluffy and the clothes clean and smelling like the house, a much better scent than the stitched to your clothes. He sends it to you via magic, wanting you to come to him when you’re ready.

When you approach him, he gives you a comforting smile and pats the bed beside him. He grabs your hand and massages it slowly, telling you that he’ll be here for you if you need anything. You can talk to him or choose not to, and he won’t pressure you in the slightest. You can take your time to talk to him. He feels a bit bad that he can’t tell you that everything will be okay, he knows it will, so sure of it that he’d bet himself on it, but it isn't what you want to hear. You just need to know that he’s right there by your side.

For now, you’re okay. You’re safe in his room and he likes being an older brother- at least to a few. He likes to spoil people rotten, and he gets to do that with you. You get to have everything good and shiny. You’re going to be okay when you stick with him, because he won’t let anything happen to you. He’s going to be your new home, your new big brother.

The process is tough, and he doesn’t rush anything. It’s subtle with Asmodeus and being ever so careful with his appearance, he makes sure to take care of yours. Mental health is so fragile and he just wants you to be okay. He’ll offer substitutions if certain activities can feel a bit too difficult for you, but he doesn’t push too much. You still have to take care of yourself and it might feel overbearing, but he needs to take care of you.

Beelzebub:

Family means everything to Beelzebub. At the very end of it, it’s part of the core of who he is. He feels your pain and is empathetic when you tell him what happened and he holds you close, letting you rest on his bed as he sits on the edge with a comforting hand rubbing circles on your back. He’s a demon, he knows just how cruel others can be, and yet, to see someone hurt someone as young as you, it makes him sick.

Your tears hit him hard and he can only hug you as you cry into him about your situation. There are too many emotions inside of you and it must be so difficult for you to handle all of them and he wishes he could help take that away, but he can only hold you and make sure that you sleep in a position that won’t hurt your neck once the tears have tired you out. It’s the little things that he does for you until you come to him and explain everything to him, and he’ll listen and won’t interrupt.

During this time, he tries to not be imposing. He doesn’t want you to run from him so he’ll give you time to come to him when you’re ready. He checks up on you often, knocking on your door and entering with a few snacks. He’ll stay if you ask him and talk to you about mundane stuff. A part of him wonders if that’s really what you want to hear, but he can’t say anything different. He doesn’t know what it is that you want to hear and he doesn’t want to pressure you any further. Anyways, it seems like you like to listen to him during these moments. Maybe, he provides a nice distraction.

He’ll always make sure that he has his phone on him in case you need him. He’s told you before that you can contact him whenever you want, and that he’ll come running to you. He’s sure it’s his big brother instincts taking over. He may be the sixth brother, but it doesn’t remove the fact that he has a twin. It’s only by his power that he ranks sixth. With you, he can be a big brother and be the cool and caring type that takes care of you. You can always come to him whenever you need something and he’ll make sure to give you whatever you want.

It comes to no surprise that you two develop a strong bond and you start to stick to him and he welcomes that. He won’t leave you alone unless you ask him to and he always makes sure to include you in whatever activity he has. During lunch, he’ll sit with you and listen to you and he’s glad that you're starting to feel better around him. You’ve both grown quite attached and he tries to do good by you. Beelzebub will give you whatever you need because beside his twin, you’re the youngest in the family. He’ll reassure you that nothing is your fault, that you’re only a child and that you’ll be okay. You’ve been there for him and he’ll be there for you.