#sanne writing herself into a corner over here

[thingsseenandheard]

Trying to write a Cazador centric longfic that's all plot all the way down involving both Vellioth and Astarion in which Cazador fucks up his ritual and brings Vellioth back to life and I have so much of it figured out but I have no clue how to end it.

Cazador is obviously beyond redemption and I have no desire to take that road, he doesn't deserve it and no amount of character development I can give him would be enough for him to effectively atone for everything he's done, especially since Astarion is present and I am not going to be disregarding his trauma in favour of Cazador's. Caz redemption and him being forgiven is off the table. I don't think there's any graceful and sensitive way to write that. If I am not writing Cazador forgiving Vellioth then why would I ever write Astarion forgiving Cazador? Like yeah cycle of abuse and it's very tragic and that is an important aspect of this fic because Cazador is becomming cognizant of it and the role he's played in perpetuating it, but the biggest part of that I feel is Astarion being the one to truly break it. That's his narrative, not Cazador's, who has already been an evil abusive bastard for 200+ years. Caz has lost his chance to break the cycle and right the wrongs of the past because he's already been participating in it for so long, and sure he can work to be better going forward and that isn't nothing, but there's really very little - if anything - he could do to fix any of the wrongs he has already committed.

I don't want him to just wind up being the exact same as he was pre Events because then what's the point of the fic? He is realising that he has become the very thing he hated so fiercly and that he sees so much of his former self in Astarion because he has become Vellioth. What's the point of all that if he's just going to shrug and continue on exactly the same way? I need him to experience introspection for once in his very long life.

I don't want to kill him because it feels like a massive copout to put him through all this and force him to have difficult and painful realisations only to die immediately. There could be an interesting element of tragedy there, he realises he's been wrong only to immediately be killed at the hands of his spawn just like Vellioth was - but I think the poetry of that really works much better if Cazador has never had the self awareness to realise he has become his own worst nightmare because then it's a lot more emphasis on Astarion's agency and Astarion putting an end to the cycle. It loses a lot of it's meaning if Cazador has a change of heart but is still killed in the same way. Or he could be faced with Vellioth and Vellioth could finally kill him, but the issue there is that frankly, I don't think Vellioth would. He would just see this as an opportunity to utterly break Cazador all over again, killing him would spoil the fun before it could properly begin.

I have toyed with the idea of Cazador killing himself for a variety of reasons; maybe he realises that he will never truly be free of Vellioth, maybe he does it because he has fallen back into Vellioth's clutches and can't bear the thought of being his plaything again, but I think if I was going to take this route, it would have to be because he's realised he is Vellioth and it would be the last noble act he felt he could offer the world, to take himself out of it - but if he's taking himself out of it because he realises his own propensity for evil, he would need to take Vellioth out, too. Which could be a good ending.

But still, allowing Cazador to die as soon as he gains self awareness is giving him the easy way out. Even if he's doing it for what he feels is a noble purpose, even if he kills both himself and Vellioth, it's saving him from having to live with the fact that he has done bad things and regardless of what his self perception was or what he wanted or any intentions he ever had, he and Vellioth were one in the same. If I am making him come to this realisation, then I feel it is most meaningful if he has to live with it.

Which brings it back around to Cazador is beyond redemption, so what do I do with that?

Given the way I am writing pre-vamp Caz and spawn Caz as having been a very different person to the Lord Szarr that he's become, idealistic and principled and noble, and throughout his time as a spawn utterly determined to never be like Vellioth - until of course, his determination crumbles under the weight of all the torture and his focus shifts from remaining himself to simply remaining alive - if he gains self awareness and realises that he and Vellioth are now one in the same, I need to find him a good reason to not off himself because I think that would be the natural progression for him. He pushes down any emotion tying him to the foolish weakling he used to be, and when that returns to him combined with realising fully and plainly what he's become, why would he not want to die?

So the question becomes, what would it take to give Cazador the will to live that doesn't also veer into the terriroty of a redemption/forgiveness arc?

Much to consider.

[dreichrainbow]

Happy birthday, Sanne!

Just a little something to add to the birthday celebration ;) it’s been a long time though.. so don’t get too excited! I have sent you a card and I hope you have gotten that on your actual birthday.. fucking Royal Mail.

See you soon!!

xoxo you-know-who (obviously, as it’s on my page)

P.S. Fun fact: the bf is totally aware I was writing this and doesn’t give a flying fuck lol he wouldn’t proofread it though.

Sinful Staring (NC-17, warning: mindless fluffy smut)

“Hey, watch it!”

“Sorry.”

A white-blond teenager mumbled an apology as he squeezed passed the sneering fifth-years. Draco Malfoy regretted his decision to return to Hogwarts after the war every day. His role in the final battle was no secret and the younger students enjoyed making their opinion of him known whenever he dared to be within a two-mile radius of them.  

“Don’t let them get to you Draco, they just want to look cool in front of their friends.”

“I know, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying. Stupid brats.”

It came as no surprise to anybody that Hermione Granger returned for an eighth year at Hogwarts. What had been a shock, however, was the fact that she had struck up an unlikely friendship with the Malfoy boy. Apart from Draco and Hermione, only a handful of students had returned to school to repeat their final year and in their isolation, they had all formed a small group in which their houses were irrelevant. They never talked about the war or about classmates that would never be able to return to Hogwarts, but they had found comfort in each other’s presence nonetheless. Despite being included in the group, Draco kept himself to himself as he did not want to break their fragile peace. It was Hermione, of course, who first approached him and when after a few weeks Draco had stammered an apology to Hermione for calling her a “…you-know-what”, the pair started to hang out regularly.

“Let’s go to the library. Exams are around the corner and no matter what you say, you can’t convince me that you have done one iota of studying!” Hermione said.

“You and your blasted library!” Draco’s exasperation was perhaps not as convincing as he hoped it to be because a small smile played on his lips as he said “fine, let’s go then Granger.”

 A few months earlier Hermione had led Draco into the forbidden section of the library when she got sick of first-years asking her all about her “adventures” with Harry Potter, the boy who refused to bloody die. She made up some excuse to Madam Pince about needing books from the forbidden section for their latest Defence Against the Dark Arts essay and they have been occupying a table next to the window every day since.

“You’re full of surprises Granger,” Draco had said “I didn’t know you could lie.”

“Don’t talk nonsense” she had replied “and I told you to call me Hermione!”

Draco used to pride himself on his academic attainment. Always at the top of his class… after a certain bushy-haired brunette. Recently however, he was finding it more and more difficult to focus on his homework and even his Potions grades were suffering so significantly that Professor Slughorn had approached him cautiously and asked him if he was okay.

“I’m sorry Professor, it was my father’s birthday this month and I just…”

“I understand dear boy, say no more! Just make sure your next assignment is up to your usual standards eh?”

“Of course, Professor”

Draco had smirked at his own deviousness. He knew that the “I’m missing my Death Eater father who is in jail” routine would make Slughorn uncomfortable enough to leave him alone. There was no way he was explaining to the old goat that the reason his grades were slipping, was because of the incredibly distracting way his new study companion played with her curls when she was concentrating or the way she smiled at him when she found a book she hadn’t read yet.

“Draco? Draco!”

“Hm, what?”

“You’re staring again.”

“Don’t flatter yourself Granger, I’m contemplating the different uses for lace wing flies.”

“That brings back memories.”

“How so?”

“I made Polyjuice potion in our second year” Hermione shrugged but the pride in her voice was unmistakeable.

“You what? How?!” Draco was gobsmacked. “You’re pulling my leg..”

“Nope.”

Hermione was enjoying the shocked reaction on her friend’s face and intended to milk it for all it was worth.

“It was a lot easier than I expected.”

“Oh come off it! There’s – hold on. Why were you making Polyjuice potion? Isn’t that illegal?”

“Harry, Ron and I needed to change into Sly- “ Hermione suddenly realised who she was talking to.

“Into who?”

“I can’t remember…”

“What?!”

“… we were just having some fun, haha!”

Draco wasn’t fooled for a minute - he was a Slytherin after all. However, he decided that she must have a good reason for not telling him and decided not to press the issue.. for now.

He was doing it again. Hermione wondered if Draco even realised how often she caught him looking at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. It was odd, she was so sick of people following her around and staring at her in adoration but when Draco paid close attention to her, she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, and as she thought this she knew her cheeks were going the colour of Ron’s hair, it made her feel happy. And she deserved to be happy too, damn it! Why did she have to feel lonely and isolated at the school that used to feel like her second home?!

“I’ve had enough!”

“Excuse me?”

Judging from the flustered giggle that escaped his classmate’s mouth, Draco assumed that Hermione had been having a conversation with herself again.

“Anyway,” Hermione said after she realised that Draco wasn’t going to tease her for her outburst, “let’s go outside. The day is way too nice to waste in this stuffy library.”

“..Stuffy library?” Draco cocked an eyebrow, “that’s no way to talk about your favourite part of the castle.”

“Oh shut up.”

Draco obediently resisted the urge to taunt her and instead followed her quietly out into the grounds. They walked for a good while when Draco realised where they were heading.

“Granger, we are not visiting the Whomping Willow! Did you forget what happened to Potter and Weasley when they flew into it?”

“It’s quiet and shaded – it’s perfect.”

“It’s quiet because everything that comes near it suffers a gruesome faith…”

“Oh hush.”

Draco looked on horrified as Hermione approached the energetic tree cautiously. He fought the impulse to cover his eyes with his hands when she reached out towards the trunk and breathed an audible sigh of relief when the tree froze.

“How did you know to do that?”

“If you grow up around Harry Potter, you learn all sorts.” Hermione grinned and sat down.

His mouth still slightly ajar, Draco joined her in the soft grass. He made to grab the books from his bag to continue ‘studying’, but Hermione’s hand on top of his stopped him. Surprised, he looked at her.

“You’re staring again.” Hermione whispered, a coy smile on her face.

She squeezed his hand and Draco became acutely aware of how warm her palm was and how desperate he was to find out if her lips were the same.

“Kiss me.”

Hermione had inched closer, her lips ghosting over Draco’s.

“What are you waiting for, Malfoy?” she teased.

Draco’s mind was whirring. She was so close and oh Merlin – she smelled so nice. He could feel her breath on his lips and before his brain could even finish saying “but she’s Potter’s friend and only talks to you because she feels sorry for you” he closed the gap between them. Hermione moaned softly as their lips connected and Draco realised he had never heard something so arousing before. He could hear his heart beating in his ears and he felt breathless but refused to break the kiss. Instead he tangled his hands in Hermione’s curls and pulled her impossibly closer. Why hadn’t they done this sooner?

“Granger…” Draco murmured when they finally pulled away.

“I told you to call me Hermione.” She looked at him through her eyelashes.

“Where do you think you’re going… Hermione?”

At the mention of her name, Hermione’s mouth broke into a wide smile and Draco’s heart skipped a beat.

“You’re beautiful.”

She mumbled something about her teeth, but Draco wasn’t listening. He let his hands drop from her fly-away hair and stroked her cheek. He trailed gentle kisses across her jaw and neck, relishing in the way Hermione’s breath caught in her throat with every touch.

“Draco…”

Fuck.

The want in her voice forced the blond man to look up into her dark eyes and when their eyes met the world stopped for a split-second. Then time caught up with them and Hermione pushed Draco down into the grass before claiming his lips with renewed intensity. Draco moaned into her open mouth and wrapped his arms around her back, digging his fingers into her slender frame. Her weight on top of him, the feel of her breasts pushing into his chest, her soft tongue fighting with his own..

“We can’t… not here.” Hermione whispered against his lips when Draco involuntarily buckled is hips,

“I know.”

Neither of them made to move away. Hermione bend back down and bit Draco’s ear lobe gently before saying.

“But you’ve used up all my patience, Draco.”

The breathy way she had said his name send a shiver down Draco’s back that rested securely in his rapidly growing lower regions. The twitch was met with a gentle trust by Hermione. She pushed down into the boy beneath her and gasped when she realised that Draco was just as turned-on as she was.

“Hermione, you should get up..”

“All these years Malfoy, and you still don’t realise that I have no intention of listening to you. Especially not when you’re being sensible.” She smirked.

Even if he had any intention of leaving it there before, the look on Hermione’s face locked him into place.

“Hermione…”, was the only comment his lust-addled brain could manage.

“Oh what’s this,” the brunette teased, “is Draco Malfoy, sole heir of the prestigious pureblood Malfoy line, taking orders from a mere muggle-born?” She elongated her blood-status with a mixture of pride and sarcasm.

“What-ever will your family say when they find out?”

“They will ask me why it took me so long to shut your gorgeous mouth and fuck you senseless.”

Hermione was speechless, and Draco took advantage of the moment to roll them around so he straddled her.

“My turn, Granger.”

Hermione flushed but kept her gaze trained on Draco’s.

“Do your worst.”

Draco groaned, because who was he kidding, Hermione was still completely in charge – not that he minded, but he wasn’t about to let the frizzy-haired heroin of the Wizarding World know that. Instead he thrusted into her warm lap and kissed her deeply. Her soft moans told Draco that he had won this round, but he had only just begun. He kissed along Hermione’s jaw, occasionally stopping to suck and nibble at the exposed skin and revelling in the way Hermione grasped at his back when he did. He continued to kiss every part of his classmate that was within his reach as he trailed his fingers over her breasts and slowly, almost painfully so, lower down. When he finally slid his fingers into her pants and teased the sensitive skin, both of them gasped.

“Draco…” Hermione threw her head back as Draco gently rubbed her clitoris.

It took all of the blond’s self-control not to slide into her. He wanted to draw it out, please Hermione until she couldn’t bear it anymore. So instead he moved further down her legs and lifted her skirt, kissing the now bare skin as soon as it became available. He slid down her pants as he sucked a lovebite into Hermione’s hipbone.

“Ah!”

She moaned loudly when he replaced his fingers with his mouth and, dammit, she could feel him smirking.

“You might want to lower your voice, Miss Granger.” Draco whispered against her skin.

But Hermione was beyond caring. She grabbed Draco’s hair and buckled up into his mouth. Draco felt her pulling on his scalp but the pain only intensified his desire to make her scream. He continued to kiss and suck the sensitive skin, guided by Hermione’s gasps and moans.

“Fuck! Draco…”

Emboldened by her uncharacteristic use of profanities, the former Death Eater released his bruising grip on his study-companion’s hips and teased her already over-sensitive thighs before sliding a cool finger into her and touching that sensitive bundle of nerves. The two-sided assault made Hermione see stars. With every flick, shots of pleasure bordering on pain shot through her body and she wasn’t even sure what words were tumbling from her lips.

“There… No, Oh God… Please.”

Although her brain appeared to have shut itself off, Draco perfectly understood what Hermione’s body was telling him. Her twitching hips, the rapidly increasing wetness that allowed a second finger (“Fuck!”), her lust-blown pupils every time she threw her head back – the student-most-likely-to-become-Minister-for-Magic wanted Draco Malfoy inside of her. Finally giving into his desperate desire, Draco released his throbbing member. Hermione bit his her when he teased her entrance.

“Hurry up!”

“So bossy…”

Normally Hermione hated that word, but the look in her companion’s eyes told her there was no malice. They held each other’s gaze as Draco slowly pushed himself into Hermione. After what felt like hours, they both sighed with relief when he had fully entered her. Still over-sensitized from Draco’s attentiveness, Hermione dug her nails into the grass beneath her when he started moving.

“Is that okay?”

Hermione just nodded as she didn’t trust her mouth to from proper words. She angled her hips just slightly, so Draco would hit that spot inside her with every thrust.

“Merlin.. Hermione, you feel so good.”

Having held off for such a long time, Draco savoured the hot, wet feeling every time she clenched around him. With every thrust Hermione moved up to meet him and they immediately found the perfect rhythm. Up until this point, Draco had made sure to keep his eyes open so he could study her reactions but mind-numbing pleasure forced his eyes shut. Hermione took the opportunity to pull him closer and kiss him deeply. As soon as their lips met, she realised how much she had longed for that feeling. She buried her hands in his hair and pulled him impossibly closer and deeper.

“Draco…”

“Hermione…”

The world around them seemed to dissolve and all they could hear was each other’s ragged breathing and whispered moans. They moved in perfect unison, never once breaking that onslaught of pleasure.

��Hermione, I can’t…”

“Don’t stop,” Hermione breathed, “I’m – Ah! – So close.”

Draco could feel that familiar hot feeling building in his lower regions.

“Me too.”

He buried his face in the crook of her neck and sucked an angry mark into the flushed skin, accentuating every nip and bite with a deep thrust.

“Draco!”

Hermione’s movement became erratic as her whole body twitched with her rapidly building orgasm. Draco sped up and the increased friction was almost too much.

“Fuck! Hermione!”

They kept up their intense pace for a few more moments, chasing that final goal, before Hermione’s body froze for that split-second warning.

“Oh God, Draco! I’m – “

“Do it.”

The brunette’s hips jerked violently, desperately trying to meet Draco’s thrusts as that long-postponed surge of pure ecstasy shot through her body. The choked moans and impossible tightness around him was too much for Draco. While Hermione’s body still trembled, he came harder than had ever in his life – the force of it sending of sparks behind his eyelids.

Exhausted, the two eighth-years lay panting in the grass.

“Wow.” Draco mumbled.

“I’ll say.” Hermione answered with a giggle. “Maybe now you will stop staring at me so much?”

“Unlikely Granger, because now I will want to fuck you every time I see you… or this bloody tree. Great, you’ve turned me into a pervert!”

Hermione shrugged and quickly performed a cleaning spell under her breath.

“Right, we really need to get back to studying. We’ve wasted enough time today!” She said as she got up, swiping the grass of her clothes.

“I wouldn’t necessarily call it wasted…” Draco smirked. “Besides, I’m afraid our little ‘break’ might have ruined by ability to concentrate for the rest of the day. Week even.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, but supressed a smile.

“We’d better find somewhere quiet then.” She said and then added with a coy smile, “Do you remember how to get into the Room of Requirements?”

Draco’s face split into a massive grin as he grabbed Hermione’s outstretched hand and they made their way back to the castle, not letting go of each other until they closed the Room of Requirements' door behind them.

THE END