#probably still a bit on old-man-yells-at-cloud side but i found the comparison interesting

[queenlua]

On the ground level, [the Pantheon is] just a moderately cluttered and tacky church, but the ceiling is an unparalleled feat of engineering — a huge dome, with no internal infrastructure or supports. Contemporary investigators literally don’t know how they achieved it. And on this trip, a retrospectively obvious thing dawned on me: for most Western Europeans for a thousand years or more, that was how it was with essentially all Roman achievements. Often modern people look down their nose at the so-called “dark ages” as an era when people were obsessed with the past, seemingly arbitrarily. But they were physically surrounded by infrastructure and buildings erected by the ancients that they couldn’t build if they wanted to. The engineering know-how, the access to resources, the sheer ability to organize and structure a labor process — it was all gone and there was seemingly no way to recapture it. We could say the same for the intellectual achievements of the ancients. Medieval people didn’t rely on them simply because they were lazy or unimaginative. They lacked the intellectual infrastructure — not just the traditions of education, but often the physical documents themselves, which had to be copied afresh every generation or so. They assumed that Galen was smarter than any contemporary doctor not only because he was such a genius but because he was in a position to know much more than any current-day investigator. You can’t just rebuild that intellectual infrastructure through sheer force of will, certainly not as an individual. The most gifted person in medieval Europe simply could not get as far as a person in the Hellenistic era would have been able to get. Medieval Europeans thought the ancients were better because they were, and it took centuries for them to get to a place where they could seriously think of themselves as surpassing their achievements. My big worry is that we are currently experiencing a process of decay that will leave future generations living among ruins [. . .]

boldface emphasis mine

[eltanin-malfoy]

Life Kills (Kill Or Be Killed I)

pairing : draco/fem-collegestudent!y/n (not that romantic.. or platonic)

word count : 3.4k!

warnings : smoking, swearing, mentions of murder/violence/poisoning, angst!!!!

a/n : this is set in an original modern non-magic AU, and the story is based off of (MAJOR SPOILER ALERT, DO NOT CHECK OUT THE PROMPT UNLESS YOU WANT TO SPOIL THE REST OF THE STORY lol) this prompt on @writing-prompt-s. there is no real romance between draco and y/n in this chapter, and i’m not exactly sure there will be. the premise of this story kind of makes that a little crazy. for now, it’s pretty much just animosity. there is the slightest possibility of this turning into a slow burn fic.. so hold on, i guess. this is definitely not your typical x reader. at all. i would appreciate any and all feedback from you guys! requests are open as well :) also i hate smoking irl but it just fit here, sorry.

Chapter 1 : Life Kills

Smoke. 

That beloved scent filled Draco’s lungs as he took a drag from the wrinkled brown stick in his hand, his steely eyes shutting as its end glowed red. He held it away for a few seconds as he exhaled, white clouds slipping out of his lips into the cold air in front of him. His eyes followed his own exhalation into the sky, his fingers fidgeting with the green lighter he’d used to ignite his toxic addiction with. 

He grinned, then brought the cigarette to his lips for another puff, then another, then another, till slowly, the tube of tar was finally used up. He folded up what was left of his papery weapon with his thin fingers and finally tossed it to the ground. He reached into his pocket for his pack, searching for even more release.

He lifted his gaze to the scene in front of him, the concrete jungle that was Bond Street. The expensive logos were practically calling out his name. It’s just my fucking luck, isn’t it? He scowled at the crowds gathered around the area. My lovely parents just had to go get themselves arrested and leave me all by myself. He instinctively grit his teeth as memories of his awful father fluttered through his brain. At least I don’t have to associate with that.. that.. tyrant anymore. 

“Draco? Two minutes left in your break, son.”

The pale blonde rolled his eyes as he stared out front, but looked back and flashed his elderly boss a (fake) smile. She nodded and stepped back inside, arms crossed around her portly frame as she shivered. 

It had only been a few months since his parents had been arrested by the government after being convicted of illegally possessing and smuggling famed works of art, literature and the like. When the authorities first began their investigation, Lucius had said that it would all work itself out, even though the police’s suspicions were absolutely correct. He had connections everywhere, after all. But, alas! A search warrant had made its way to Malfoy Manor before his parents had the opportunity to sweep everything under the rug, and.. even their very expensive defence lawyer wasn’t able to hide the fact that they were caught red handed.

This had led to a crapload of problems in Draco’s own life. To begin with, he wouldn’t be able to see his mother for at least another decade. His parents’ fortune (and his trust fund, of course!) was seized by the government, leaving him absolutely broke, and forced to drop out in the second year of his Chemistry degree at the very prestigious Oxford University. He’d tried hard to find some kind of a placement in any of his parents’ friends’ companies, but no, they’d decided to stop associating with any member of the Malfoy clan. So, he managed what he could and left his old grand life in Wiltshire for some kind of meagre lifestyle in London. Working as a cashier at Tesco probably wasn’t the worst thing he could be doing.. It was minimum wage, but, it wasn’t hard. Didn’t require much energy. 

Draco, for one, had never understood his parents’ motivation to undertake that.. that.. stupidity. 

His parents’ family fortune had had practically no purpose in the first place. There wasn’t a glint of compassion in his father’s heart, and all he wanted to use it for was to satisfy his own wants. Illegally purchasing stolen historical artifacts? Of course. Selling them off to others for even greater profits? Sure! But giving a beggar even a single pound? Absolutely not. This total greed and attitude of disgust his father had had used to interest him when he was younger, back in secondary school. He’d made a habit of showing off his wealth and talking down to those who didn’t have much in comparison. But as he grew up.. he’d realised how awful it was.

Especially now that he was only twenty, absolutely alone and having to live off of four hundred pounds a week. It seemed like a lot, at first, but once you factored in rent, food and basic needs, he was barely left with a handful to work with. His heart practically broke every time he caught sight of a homeless person and somehow, so different to his former self, he’d find himself searching in his wallet for spare notes to hand them.

He quickly opened up the pack of cigarettes and pulled out one to satiate himself, stress bubbling up in his veins. He shoved the box almost haphazardly back into the pocket of his coat, then held it to his lips and flicked his lighter, the brilliant orange flame lighting the tip of the cigarette. He took a drag and looked around again, slowly turning to walk back to his place of work. He took a few deep puffs and was just about to trash it when he heard.. what sounded like a struggle? 

He headed down the alleyway, to a bit of a darker turn, instinctively slicking back his platinum blonde hair. He finally got a glimpse of what was happening. There was a girl, probably around the same age as him, having a dynamic disagreement with a.. homeless old person? His protective instincts kicked into gear as he saw her swatting at him with the umbrella in her hand, yelling at him for what sounded like.. attempting to trip her?

The old man was shielding himself with a blanket, his arms over his head as he called for help. Draco, feeling almost like his saviour, pushed the girl away, which, he realised was not the best move with his tall figure, made her fall to the ground with a loud squeal. The old man set the blanket down and looked up at the lack of commotion, then gave the lanky blonde a smile. He even mouthed a soft ‘thank you’ and Draco waved his hand, reassuring him that it was no big deal.  He took a deep breath, about to turn on his heel to leave, but found himself scowling down at the girl, who was slowly getting up again.

“Why did you do that?” She panted, her hair messy as she got back onto her feet. She wasn’t exactly well built herself, her face was a bit pale and there were hints of shadows under her eyes as she glared up at him. She dusted herself off and placed her hand on her denim-covered knee, wincing the slightest bit. She quickly rose up again and brought her hands to her hips. “Don’t need to look at me like that.” She clenched her jaw and Draco realised that he’d been silent all this while.

“Don’t need.. idiots like you treating helpless people the way you did. Fucking awful, that was.” He looked her over quickly, his gaze pausing at the straps of the backpack on her shoulders. “You.. you students think you can just get away with anything, don’t you?” He found himself getting a bit more heated, his cheeks slowly beginning to turn purple. 

She opened her mouth to speak, but Draco rolled his eyes and finally turned to leave, walking back down the alleyway without a word. “Well, we don’t need pricks like you defending these oh so helpless people when they try to steal something from someone.” She called out after him and he stopped, staring to the front, before looking over his shoulder. Instead of locking eyes with her, he saw the same homeless man, staring into space as he huddled up with that blanket. Draco felt the slightest pang of guilt in his gut, but ignored it and continued, still choosing to believe that she was just.. an embodiment of his own father. 

Nasty and entitled. He thought to himself as he slipped off his coat, setting it on a rack in the Employee’s Only room. Bet she hasn’t known any real problems in her life. Bet she’s not even a fucking good student. He felt his rage boiling up within him again, but stared at himself in the small mirror by the door. He placed his hands on his reddened cheeks and forced himself to calm down, taking deep breaths and reassuring himself of his own ability. Looking very flustered wasn’t exactly ideal for a cashier in a supermarket, after all.

***

Draco ran the carton of milk over the scanner. Beep. He passed it over to the red haired boy to the side of him, who began to stuff it into a plastic bag. He tried his best not to glance at his customer, but his curiosity bested him and he reluctantly flashed the dark middle aged man a smile. He shook it off and stared at the monitor in front of him. “That’ll be ninety four pounds and thirty pence, sir.” He looked over at the man as he pulled out his wallet and ruffled through it to hand him a few notes, along with a few coins. 

“Oh, and I found this in the Car Care aisle.” He pulled out yet another wallet from his pocket, a black, leather one… just like Draco’s father’s.. He let out a sharp exhale and gently took it from him, setting it on the counter. “Thank you, sir. We’ll announce that it’s missing right away.”

The boy then stuffed the notes into the drawer of the cashier, pulling out the one and returning it to the man. “Here’s your change! Thank you for shopping at Tesco, have a nice day!” He forced the words out of his mouth, his voice dry. He could act well, back in the day, but now, he wasn’t exactly willing to try. The ginger opened his mouth to speak. “Hope to see you again, sir, thanks for returning the wallet you found!” A bright smile on his stupid face. Ugh! Always got to suck up to them, doesn’t he? Draco grit his teeth as he shut the register, looking up to see that there was no more customers queuing at the counter. 

He opened up the wallet and looked it over, then noticed the name on a credit card in one of the sleeves to the front. There were a couple of ID cards in the others, but.. he couldn’t exactly be bothered. He leaned down and pulled out the small microphone wired to the counter, thought his announcement up, pressed the button besides it and opened his mouth to speak. 

“A black leather wallet belonging to a Y/N Y/L/N was just found in the Car Care aisle. Kindly approach counter number 4 for more details, please.” He called out, almost monotonously, closing the wallet up and setting it away. He turned it off and set it away. He looked over at the wallet again and goddamn Lucius’ face flashed in his mind again. 

“Can’t seem to learn to act a little nicer, can you, Draco?” Draco lifted his gaze to look over at him, eyes flitting down to the name tag by his collar. Ron… what a bloke to be forced to spend these hours with.. Draco furrowed his brows and just shook his head. “No, I can’t. And that’s the way it’ll be. I’m saying what I have to say, and I shouldn’t be judged for not feeling like a chirpy little bird all the time.” “Okay.. whatever.” Ron rolled his eyes and fiddled around with the bags attached to the hooks by the counter, then looked around. “Not a very busy day today, is it?” 

Draco looked down as his eyes widened, somehow Ron had mastered getting on his nerves. “No, it’s not. Not a lot of people out this late at night on a Sunday, Ron.” He looked over at the digital clock by the exit of the store, tilting his head and rolling his shoulders lightly. ‘10:47’  The clock read. Less than a quarter of an hour until my shift ends and I can get out of this shithole. He stared into space as he bit down on his lip, grateful that Ron had finally decided to remain silent. It wasn’t too chilly inside, but it was unbearable for every other reason. This forced happiness with every single customer, the annoying radio somehow constantly playing only the songs he seemed to hate, his annoying bag packer.. maybe retail really wasn’t for him. He shook his head and fiddled with the edge of his blue uniform shirt, staring at the clock and waiting for time to pass. 

Easy money, isn’t it? He continued to think to himself. Have to press a couple of buttons, say a couple of words, stay in my place, everything works out. He took a deep breath. Good cover too. No one’s too careful with managing who does the shifts either.. Great alibi, Draco. Could just lie and write my name up in the lists.. No one even cares. A small smile grew on his face. No one would even know if it was me.. Not one. Murder isn’t that hard when you’ve got control of the inventory as well. Change a couple numbers, bag a couple of items and take them out with you through the employee’s exit, no one would even know a thing. 

After having to leave university, Draco had grown very, very confused as to what direction to steer his life in. Money wasn’t exactly what he was after.. and it seemed like any past hopes of his of being a research scientist were pointless without some kind of a degree. Chemistry had been his subject of choice, much to his father’s great disdain. He was fine with Draco not even going into tertiary education at all, he had the family business going for him, didn’t he? If you could call it that, then yes. But.. it wasn’t for him. Smuggling wasn’t what interested him, really. It was murder, now.

Draco had liked reading about true crime since he was a child. The horrors, the mysteries and everything else had fascinated him to no end. He thought it had just been some kind of juvenile interest of his, some way to satisfy his curiosity. He could never have seen himself attempting any of that. But that was until he was forced out of his lush lifestyle, this whole change had not only upped his anger and generosity towards the rich and the poor, respectively, but also his desire to get rid of the stress inside of him. Nicotine had soon become his drug of choice but.. 

He craved something more.

Roland Hoyt… oh boy.. That was the one serial killer Draco had truly been fascinated by. That absolute genius had managed to kill eight people in an old English town with the use of chemicals. It was some mixture of cyanide and barbiturates that he had managed to feed to most of his victims which lead to their death, but what had truly drawn Draco in was the few cases in which Hoyt managed to use his own version of the famed lethal injection. It was beyond wicked, truly. Draco felt like it would be one hell of an insane mission, had felt crooked to the bone even thinking about doing it, but truly, there was no better way to get out his frustration than to just.. do the same. He couldn’t exactly afford any kind of games, or gym membership or as such any longer. And even his most recent ex, Pansy, had seemed to lose any interest in him once he lost his fortune. Talking to girls wasn’t exactly his forte to begin with, anyways. 

He just wanted to try it, really. Out of curiosity. Just someone who no one would miss, would even know they were missing. He knew it was absolutely awful of him to even try.. But he’d studied up enough to know how to get away with it, and try he very well would. Or at least try to try, right?

He was snapped out of his thoughts with a nudge to the shoulder from his accompanying bag packer. His head shot up and looked over at him. “What is it, Weasley?” Ron pointed over at the other side of the counter where a new customer was stood.

“Not you again..” 

Draco suddenly froze, instantly recognising that voice. He looked up hesitantly and locked eyes with her. It’s that bitch from earlier! Should bar her from coming in here, really! He grit his teeth and pursed his lips slightly, but soon opened his mouth to speak. “Good evening, miss.” His tone seemed a bit cheery, but was obviously rich in sarcasm. “The wallet’s mine.. “ He almost snarled at this, but placed the wallet on the counter. “Are you sure? Or are you just trying to..? You really Y/N Y/L/N?”

She rolled her eyes and took the wallet, opening it up delicately. “Do you really think I’d steal a wallet? You shouldn’t be allowed to work here, honestly.” She pushed a single bottle of antifreeze forwards, fiddling with the ends of her hair. Draco quickly sized her up as she moved forward. The backpack was gone, replaced by a small satchel bag over her shoulder. She seemed to have changed as well, while he couldn’t remember what kind of shirt she was wearing, the jeans she had on were replaced by some shorts.. and what seemed like a small plaster over her knee. He took the bottle of antifreeze and brought it up to the scanner.

“Well, good thing I have a kind manager, then.” He rolled his eyes as the machine beeped, passing the bottle along to Ron, who almost dropped it at first. Draco looked over at him and his eyes were practically stuck on the girl as she glared at Draco. She suddenly looked over at Ron as well, launching into another attack. “Has Tesco seriously started employing assholes who push customers around when no one else is looking?” She bit down on her lip, awaiting some kind of a response.

“Well-well..” Ron stuttered out and Draco couldn’t help but cringe for him, pressing a few buttons on the register. “He’s just the one.. Really. The rest of us are.. not bad.” The girl seems unsatisfied with this response, but continued to look at him, studying his reaction. “So.. you’re not bad then?” She asked, eyeing the redhead quizzically now. “I can be great for a pretty girl like-” “That’ll be seven pounds.” Draco looked over at Ron to see him staring back disapprovingly, arms crossed over his chest. He could feel the slight snarl growing on his face, but snapped out of it, knowing he couldn’t have this girl actually complain about him to his superiors. “Paying by card?” He flipped a card reader over to her, then pressed a few buttons on his own register. She nodded and fit it into the slot, waiting patiently as it flashed an ‘Approved’ sign. “There..”

Draco rolled his eyes yet again, reaching over to grasp the receipt that had just finished printing out. “Miss, you need to sign and write down your contact number here. Just for verification purposes.” He placed a pen right next to it and took a slight step back, studying her for a second. She seems.. easy? A bit violent.. But easily taken care of. Fell like a twig. He shook the thought from his head for a second, looking down as she finished up.

Almost unpredictably, she looked up and flashed Ron a smile, whose ears immediately flushed pink. Sure enough, the signatures matched and he handed her her bag, after which, she soon stepped out. “What the hell was that, Ron?” Ron just shook his head and looked over at her, before glancing back at the Employees Only room.

Y/N Y/L/N. He thought. How convenient. He looked over at the girl exiting, making a mental note. He quickly closed up the register and placed a ‘Next Counter Please’ sign for the next employee to take off. Ron had already cleaned up his area and had started heading back to the Employees Only room, probably to change. 

Y/N. Draco finished up and put his hands in his pockets, heading back himself as he noticed a few other employees shuffling over. Physically, she’s an ordinary female, but mentally, just as spoilt and awful as Father.

Think I’ve found myself a first victim, haven’t I?

Chapter 2