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Me every time I say I’m going to write 🙃
"I'm going to dedicate Sunday to writing."
it's 1140 am and so far i have:
gone out for breakfast, cleaned the bathroom, cleaned the kitchen, done dishes 2x, cleaned the living room, made tea, hung out with the hubs, taken the garbage out.
so far I have not:
written anything.
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A Little Unsteady (Tim Bradford x Foster!teen!reader)
PT2 SNEAK PEAK
…..
Tim couldn’t help but notice how you were being so hard on yourself, especially when it came to your schoolwork. On one hand, he was impressed with how serious you were on your school work given what you were going through, but on the other, it felt like you were being too hard on yourself.
“It’s fine, I’ll have to take the L.”
“Take the L?”
“Take the loose?” you looked at him in disbelief, “You’ve never heard of that term?”
“I don’t know if it’s obvious but I don’t spend my time learning all the new terms you kids make up almost every single day.”
“The grey hairs make it a little bit obvious,” you muttered to yourself.
“I do not have grey hairs!” Tim glanced at himself in the rearview mirror.
You smirked, “Made you look.”
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The Rookie Masterlist
Tim Bradford
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A Little Unsteady (Tim Bradford x Foster!Teen!Reader)
Summary: Y/N finds herself back at square one and desperate for a break. Tim has always felt like something was missing in his life and when Y/N stumbles into the police station looking for his girlfriend, he feels drawn to her, like he was called to help her.
Pt. 1
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I completely understand taking a hiatus! I’ve done it myself and sometimes it’s just needed! Hope you get the rest you need and that love for writing comes back!
You’re an amazing writer and we will miss you while you’re away! ❤️❤️
hey guys,
this is a post I've been debating on making for a few days and I think it's time I just post it.
from today I will be going on a writing hiatus
I will more than likely still be active on here to support my friends and just read and reblog stuff on my sideblog and to talk to people etc.
this isn't a decision I'm taking lightly nor does it bring me any pleasure to make such a post
I have been really struggling with motivation and I'm getting trapped in such a bad headspace where I constantly feel guilty for not writing enough or at all, I'm constantly comparing myself to others, and I feel like I'm not doing good enough for y'all
I don't know how long this hiatus will be. it could be a couple of weeks, it could be a month or so, I honestly cannot give y'all a set answer. I just need time to not stress over writing and find the love I used to have for it because I worry that if I keep pushing myself I'll just end up wanting to leave entirely and I really don't want to get to that point
I can totally understand if this pisses y'all off, or upsets you but all I ask is that you just go forward and make sure you support any writers, artists, etc. because you never know how much they might need it and a little compliment can go such a long way on here.
I also just want to say a huge thank you to @callsign-dexter and @maverick-wingman for helping me find a way to this decision and just being there for me when I've been at my lowest. I love and appreciate y'all so much <333
much love <3
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A Little Unsteady (Tim Bradford x Teen!Fem!Reader)
Summary: Y/N finds herself back at square one and desperate for a break. Tim has always felt like something was missing in his life and when Y/N stumbles into the police station looking for his girlfriend, he feels drawn to her, like he was called to help her.
Warnings: Mentions of abuse and death
Word Count: 3,138
Authors note: Let me know what y'all think of this, might make it into an angsty series! Send in the requests!
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Shit. 
“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself, your mind racing to a million thoughts. The sound of a million voices rang through your ears as you entered the building, but that was all an exaggeration, it was only a room with maybe a good thirty people. 
Spending your lunch period at the police station was the last thing you wanted to do, but you were desperate and eager to find that familiar face. You knew Rachel hung around the police station when she wasn’t in her office, whether it was for work or personal, this had to be the place she was gonna be at. 
Walking up to the front desk, anxiously tapping your fingers on the counter catching the lady behind the counter's attention. The lady’s eyes landed on your fingers, “Can I help you, hon?” 
you clenched your fingers to your palm, “Sorry,” you gave her an apologetic smile. 
She smiled, “I get it, police stations give lots of people anxiety. What can I help you with today?” 
You were quick to notice police officers standing near the counter looking through files and some sitting down and typing away on a computer. “I- Um, I’m looking for Rachel Hall. She’s a social worker and sometimes she’s here.” 
“Rachel Hall,” the receptionist repeated as she looked through the log-in log. 
One of the officers quickly turned his head, “You’re looking for Rachel?” He asked. 
You looked over at him, giving him a nod. “You know her, Officer Bradford?” 
“Yeah, she’s… a friend. She’s actually here doing some paperwork.” He walked over to where you stood, “I can show you where she is.” 
You gave him a hesitant nod, and he gave you a reassuring smile in return before thanking the receptionist and walking out of the room. You followed his lead, he turned to look over at you before asking, “So, how do you know Rachel?” 
“She used to be my social worker before…” you trailed off, clearing your throat. “Doesn’t matter.” 
Tim decided not to press on any further as he led you to a meeting room where a lot of social workers come to do wellness checks and supervised visitations, among many other things. He knew Rachel had been at the station for a supervised visitation, one that unfortunately had to be conducted within the police station for safety reasons. Thankfully, she was done with her visitation and was just finishing up on her paperwork before heading back to her office. Tim liked to believe she stayed longer just so she could see him or even catch a glimpse before she headed back out. 
“Rachel!” You exclaimed, letting out a sigh of relief as Rachel quickly turned her head, surprised to see who had called her name. 
“Y/N?” She got up from her seat, “What are you doing here?” 
You walked over to Rachel, “I needed to see you, you’re the only one who would believe me.” 
Rachel glanced at Tim who just gave her a shrug, “What’s going on?” 
“I can’t stay at that house anymore, there has to be something you can do.” 
Rachel sighed, “Y/N, I’m not your case worker anymore. Anything I do would get me in trouble.” As much as she wanted to do something, it would be putting her job on the line and it meant she wouldn’t be able to help other kids as well. She was already at risk for making a huge mistake on a case a couple weeks back. 
Tears began to well up in your eyes, “I can’t stay there.” 
“Y/N, why can’t you stay there?” Tim asked.
You glanced over at Tim, remaining silent. “Y/N, what did they do to you?” You didn’t respond, you had come here for help but the words had escaped you. You didn’t know how to tell the one person who helped you escape a hellish home a few months back, a home that almost cost her, her job; that the home she thought would be safe is far from it. “Did they hurt you?” Looking back at Rachel, you gave her a nod. 
Rachel let out a shaky sigh, there were times when she lost hope for the system. This was one of those times. She looked over at Tim before looking over at you, “You have to tell Sasha, Y/N.” 
“I did tell her!” You said in frustration, “But she hasn’t done anything! It’s like she doesn’t even care.” Rachel didn’t want to defend her friend's behavior, but this didn’t sound like her. At least not from how she knew her. 
“I-I,” she sighed, “I can’t do anything Y/N.” 
With pleading eyes, you gave her an understanding nod, “I just don’t want to go back there.” 
Tim hated seeing this part of the job. Seeing how the system worked and how it meant that kids within the system went to homes that didn’t even care about their existence. “What if I did a wellness check?” Tim asked, “That way, I can come in and check on you, and then your foster parents will know that someone knows about the situation?” 
“Like a scaring tactic,” Rachel added. 
“Exactly, It’s not the best but it could help,” Tim tried his best to be hopeful. 
It wasn’t what you wanted. It was far from it, actually, but beggars can’t be choosers. “Alright.” 
Tim offered you a ride back to school and you accepted. The whole car ride back, you felt defeated, given that all you had received was damage control. Nothing could be done about your situation, not yet at least. 
“So, what grade are you in?” Tim asked, trying his best to distract you from your thoughts. 
“I’m a freshman.” 
He nodded, “any thought about college yet?” 
You shook your head, “even if I did, I doubt I would even be able to go.” 
“There’s always scholarships,” he said with a hopeful tone. 
“Did you go to college?” You asked. 
“No, actually. I went into the military then I became a cop, obviously.” You nodded, “That could also be an option too.” You didn’t say anything in response, you drew attention back to the houses you passed by on the car ride. Tim cleared his throat, he knew what it was like to be in your shoes. Wishing for someone to help you from the people that were supposed to protect you. “So, what’s your story?” 
“What’s yours?” you retorted. 
Tim rolled his eyes, usually, he wouldn't have played this game. But something within him felt like you needed to hear his story, maybe it would you realize that everything could turn out okay, even if everything at the moment felt a little unsteady. 
“I grew up with an abusive father, I spent most of my life fighting to survive.” He gave you a quick glance before focusing back on the road, “So I know what’s it like, to wish someone would just help, for someone to just take you away from the one place you’re supposed to feel safe in.” 
You remained silent for the next few minutes, Tim groaned at the sigh of the traffic ahead of him. “We’re going to be here a while,” he commented. 
You sighed, “my dad died in front of me,” you spoke up. 
Tim glanced over at you, “my parents were high school sweethearts apparently and when my dad passed away, my mom couldn’t handle it. I’m sure if you went down skid row, you’d find her lying on the ground somewhere with a needle stuck in her arm. I’ve been in and out of foster homes since I was eight. My mom's been in and out of rehab since then.” 
“That’s not easy,” Tim commented. He had a lot of things to say about how your mother handled things but to each their own. His heart ached at the thought that you didn’t have a good structure in your life. 
“Nope,” you responded. “Rachel was the only one that ever did something to take me out of my previous foster home, even if it almost cost her job.” 
“And now you feel like you’ve wasted all your resources.” 
“Yeah,” you said softly. “Just five more years and I’ll be out of the system's hands.” 
The traffic began to move again. Minutes later, Tim pulled into the school parking lot. “Before you go,” he began as he reached into his shirt pocket, took out a card, and handed it to you. “If you ever need anything and I mean anything, you give me a call.” 
You took the card, giving him a small smile, “Thank you, Officer Bradford.” you got out of the shop, closing the door behind you. Giving Tim a small wave goodbye before you snuck back into campus. 
Tim made it his personal assignment to check up on you from there on out, to make sure you were all right, not just for you but for Rachel too. It was the least he could do, even though everything within him wanted to do more. He wanted to save you from your personal hell, but it was impossible for him at the moment. 
When he made it back to the station, Rachel was there waiting for him, “How’d it go?” 
“I gave her my card, and told her she could call me if there’s anything she needed. I’ll do a wellness check before the end of my shift,” he stated. 
“Thank you.” Rachel sighed, “She was one of my first cases, so she means a lot to me.” The two of them remained quiet for a moment, the situation between the two of them has been different since Rachel got a job in New York. “Promise me something?” 
Tim looked up at her, “Anything.” 
“Look after her for me? While I’m gone. She could use a guardian angel.” 
Tim smiled, “Of course.” Tim couldn’t help but feel a dreading sensation within him, he hated that he couldn’t do more. 
The weeks to come were difficult for Tim, with Rachel leaving and all the shit that went down within the station. He felt drained but didn’t show it. Tim needed a change within his life, something to make him work harder within his life. He had his dog and he was happy with his dog, but he still felt like he was missing something. 
There were times when he couldn’t help but wonder if everything hadn’t happened with Isobel if they would have had children by now. What their life would have been like. That’s all he could think about, the what-ifs. 
“Look, everyone has their first puppy, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Tim commented. Lucy, his boot, had been dealing with her first puppy as a rookie. He couldn’t help but tease her about it. 
“Whatever,” Lucy brushed off. 
Tim chuckled as he kept his focus on the street ahead of him. They were heading back to the station to end their shift. Tim was ready to go home and watch the game, to just relax for the next couple of days. 
“Any plans for tonight?” Lucy asked. 
“There’s a game on tonight.” 
“Of course,” she rolled her eyes. 
Once they arrived to the station, Tim was quick to do all his end-of-shift duties before clocking out. He groaned to himself as he stepped outside to be met with darkness. He hated how quick it was to get dark in the winter. 
He got into his car and began his journey back home, listening to music on the way. He came to a slow stop as the light turned red, he glanced towards the sidewalk. It took him a second to process what he saw, he quickly took another look, “What the,” he muttered to himself. The light had turned green and the car behind him honked. Tim groaned and turned his signal light on before pulling off to the side. 
Quickly getting out of the car, he tried his best to catch up to the person he had just seen, “Y/N!?” He asked. 
You quickly turned around, “Shit,” you muttered under your breath. 
“What are you doing out here?” 
You held the strap to your duffle bag tighter, “Um, I-I I’m” Tim waited for you to come up with a good excuse, “I’m on my way home,” you smiled. 
“Really?” You nodded, “then you wouldn’t mind if I gave you a ride?” 
“Well-” 
“Y/N,” he said sternly. 
“Fine.” 
Tim smiled, “let’s go.” 
You followed Tim to his car, getting into the passenger seat as he waited until you had your seatbelt on before driving off. “How you’ve been?” He asked as he began driving in the direction he had just come from. 
You sighed, “Fine.” 
Tim sighed, “I know it’s been two weeks since I’ve done a wellness check.” 
“I didn’t say anything about that.” 
“I know, I just felt the need to apologize,” He reassured. “Have they-” 
“If you’re gonna ask if they’ve hurt me, no. Not since you’ve seen me.” 
“Good,” he responded. 
“You can drop me off at the corner,” You commented. 
“No, I’m going to drop you off in front of your house,” Tim stated. He knew what you were doing, you weren’t fooling him. You were walking the direction away from your home and you had a duffle bag. It was obvious. 
He stopped in front of the house, “here you go,” he said with a smile. 
You clenched your jaw, you hadn’t stepped foot in that house within a week. Going in now would be a death trap. You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t open the car door and get out of that house. Knowing that Tim would wait in his car until he saw you walk inside that house. 
“Well?” 
You sighed, feeling defeated. “Stop acting like you don’t know.” 
“Where have you been staying?” You shrugged, “Y/N,” he said sternly. 
“Under some bridge near Skid Row.” 
“Near skid row!? Y/N!” He exclaimed, “do you have any idea how stupid that is?” 
“I was desperate to get out!” 
“This is the second house we’ve gotten you since I’ve met you, you know what Sasha said! It’s either this or the shelter.” 
“And I chose neither!” 
Tim pinched the bridge of his nose, “how long?” 
“A week.” 
Tim looked at her with wide eyes, “It rained for three days straight this past week!” He sighed, “I gave you my number so you could call me if you needed something and this is what you do.” 
“I wasn’t gonna call you, so you could just have Sasha send me to another home that’ll treat me the same way.” 
“What’s wrong with this one?” He asked as he sat back in his seat. 
“Well, when you say it that way-” 
He sighed, “I’m asking because I need to know.” 
You rolled your eyes, “I caught him watching me…” you looked down at your hands.
“Watching you?” 
“He watched me shower,” You hated how it made you feel, how you just felt exposed every time he would look at you, even if you had clothes on. Tim undid his seatbelt, “Please, don’t go in there.” 
Tim wanted to disregard your request, but he knew the last thing you needed right now was for him to make things worse. It was an issue that would be dealt with tomorrow, for now, he needed to find you a place to stay. “You have a place to stay tonight?” You shook your head, “You do now,” he commented. 
You gave him a confused look, “I have a guest bedroom, you can stay there tonight.” 
“You don’t have to”
“I’m not letting you stay under some bridge near Skid Row nor am I letting you stay in that home. I’ll call Sasha in the morning, for now, you can have my guest room.” 
You wanted to argue with him about how you could defend yourself, but who were you kidding. You’re only fourteen and let’s face the facts. You wanted to sleep in a warm bed. 
The ride back to Tim’s place was quiet and usually, you hated it. The quiet meant you had time to be left alone with your thoughts, but for the first time in a while, your mind was at ease. The drive wasn’t long, Tim helped you carry your duffle inside his house. You heard the tapping of nails hitting the floor, and you were quickly greeted with paws on your chest and a tongue slobbering all over your cheek. 
“Kojo, down!” Tim exclaimed and the dog quickly got down. “Sorry about Kojo.” 
You couldn’t help but smile as you kneeled down next to the dog to give him some love, “you should’ve said you had a dog, I would’ve said yes a long time ago.” 
Tim couldn’t help but smile as you giggled at Kojo’s antics, “Come on, let me show you where you’ll stay tonight.” He gestured for you to follow him. 
You got up from your position next to Kojo and followed Tim down a short hallway, “Alright, the bathroom is the door at the end of the hallway, help yourself to whatever is in the fridge except for my beer. That is off limits, even if you were of age.” He placed your duffle on an ottoman that was placed at the end of the bed, “Do you need any essentials? Toothbrush, toothpas-” 
“I have everything, thanks.” You took in the sight of the bedroom, out of all the rooms you had lived in, many in which you had to share with others, none compared to this one. This one felt inviting. It felt warm. 
It felt different. 
“Everything okay?” Tim asked. 
You gave him a nod, “Yeah, perfect!” 
“Alright, I’ll be in the living room watching a game that started an hour ago, if you need me. You hungry?” 
“Nah, I’m good,” as if on cue, your stomach made a loud noise. 
“it says otherwise,” Tim smirked, “I’ll order some pizza. I’ll let you get settled in, feel free to make yourself at home alright?” 
You gave him a nod, watching as he walked out of the room. You weren’t sure what to do first, to unpack your things or take a shower. Should you unpack your things, if you were going to be sent somewhere else tomorrow? You let out a sigh, laying on the bed, you couldn’t help but wonder, What if you just stayed here instead? 
No, you didn’t want to be more of burden to Tim than you already were. He had done enough for you and was already extending his kindness by letting you stay the night. No need to extend it any further. For now, you were going to allow yourself to enjoy this comfort. To enjoy the warmth of the invitation. 
Taglist: @daffodil0darling
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Alpine interrupting Bucky’s reading for some attention
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A Little Unsteady (Tim Bradford x Teen!Fem!Reader)
The Rookie Masterlist
Summary: Y/N finds herself back at square one and desperate for a break. Tim has always felt like something was missing in his life and when Y/N stumbles into the police station looking for his girlfriend, he feels drawn to her, like he was called to help her.
Warnings: Mentions of abuse and death
Word Count: 3,138
Authors note: Let me know what y'all think of this, might make it into an angsty series! Send in the requests!
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Shit. 
“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself, your mind racing to a million thoughts. The sound of a million voices rang through your ears as you entered the building, but that was all an exaggeration, it was only a room with maybe a good thirty people. 
Spending your lunch period at the police station was the last thing you wanted to do, but you were desperate and eager to find that familiar face. You knew Rachel hung around the police station when she wasn’t in her office, whether it was for work or personal, this had to be the place she was gonna be at. 
Walking up to the front desk, anxiously tapping your fingers on the counter catching the lady behind the counter's attention. The lady’s eyes landed on your fingers, “Can I help you, hon?” 
you clenched your fingers to your palm, “Sorry,” you gave her an apologetic smile. 
She smiled, “I get it, police stations give lots of people anxiety. What can I help you with today?” 
You were quick to notice police officers standing near the counter looking through files and some sitting down and typing away on a computer. “I- Um, I’m looking for Rachel Hall. She’s a social worker and sometimes she’s here.” 
“Rachel Hall,” the receptionist repeated as she looked through the log-in log. 
One of the officers quickly turned his head, “You’re looking for Rachel?” He asked. 
You looked over at him, giving him a nod. “You know her, Officer Bradford?” 
“Yeah, she’s… a friend. She’s actually here doing some paperwork.” He walked over to where you stood, “I can show you where she is.” 
You gave him a hesitant nod, and he gave you a reassuring smile in return before thanking the receptionist and walking out of the room. You followed his lead, he turned to look over at you before asking, “So, how do you know Rachel?” 
“She used to be my social worker before…” you trailed off, clearing your throat. “Doesn’t matter.” 
Tim decided not to press on any further as he led you to a meeting room where a lot of social workers come to do wellness checks and supervised visitations, among many other things. He knew Rachel had been at the station for a supervised visitation, one that unfortunately had to be conducted within the police station for safety reasons. Thankfully, she was done with her visitation and was just finishing up on her paperwork before heading back to her office. Tim liked to believe she stayed longer just so she could see him or even catch a glimpse before she headed back out. 
“Rachel!” You exclaimed, letting out a sigh of relief as Rachel quickly turned her head, surprised to see who had called her name. 
“Y/N?” She got up from her seat, “What are you doing here?” 
You walked over to Rachel, “I needed to see you, you’re the only one who would believe me.” 
Rachel glanced at Tim who just gave her a shrug, “What’s going on?” 
“I can’t stay at that house anymore, there has to be something you can do.” 
Rachel sighed, “Y/N, I’m not your case worker anymore. Anything I do would get me in trouble.” As much as she wanted to do something, it would be putting her job on the line and it meant she wouldn’t be able to help other kids as well. She was already at risk for making a huge mistake on a case a couple weeks back. 
Tears began to well up in your eyes, “I can’t stay there.” 
“Y/N, why can’t you stay there?” Tim asked.
You glanced over at Tim, remaining silent. “Y/N, what did they do to you?” You didn’t respond, you had come here for help but the words had escaped you. You didn’t know how to tell the one person who helped you escape a hellish home a few months back, a home that almost cost her, her job; that the home she thought would be safe is far from it. “Did they hurt you?” Looking back at Rachel, you gave her a nod. 
Rachel let out a shaky sigh, there were times when she lost hope for the system. This was one of those times. She looked over at Tim before looking over at you, “You have to tell Sasha, Y/N.” 
“I did tell her!” You said in frustration, “But she hasn’t done anything! It’s like she doesn’t even care.” Rachel didn’t want to defend her friend's behavior, but this didn’t sound like her. At least not from how she knew her. 
“I-I,” she sighed, “I can’t do anything Y/N.” 
With pleading eyes, you gave her an understanding nod, “I just don’t want to go back there.” 
Tim hated seeing this part of the job. Seeing how the system worked and how it meant that kids within the system went to homes that didn’t even care about their existence. “What if I did a wellness check?” Tim asked, “That way, I can come in and check on you, and then your foster parents will know that someone knows about the situation?” 
“Like a scaring tactic,” Rachel added. 
“Exactly, It’s not the best but it could help,” Tim tried his best to be hopeful. 
It wasn’t what you wanted. It was far from it, actually, but beggars can’t be choosers. “Alright.” 
Tim offered you a ride back to school and you accepted. The whole car ride back, you felt defeated, given that all you had received was damage control. Nothing could be done about your situation, not yet at least. 
“So, what grade are you in?” Tim asked, trying his best to distract you from your thoughts. 
“I’m a freshman.” 
He nodded, “any thought about college yet?” 
You shook your head, “even if I did, I doubt I would even be able to go.” 
“There’s always scholarships,” he said with a hopeful tone. 
“Did you go to college?” You asked. 
“No, actually. I went into the military then I became a cop, obviously.” You nodded, “That could also be an option too.” You didn’t say anything in response, you drew attention back to the houses you passed by on the car ride. Tim cleared his throat, he knew what it was like to be in your shoes. Wishing for someone to help you from the people that were supposed to protect you. “So, what’s your story?” 
“What’s yours?” you retorted. 
Tim rolled his eyes, usually, he wouldn't have played this game. But something within him felt like you needed to hear his story, maybe it would you realize that everything could turn out okay, even if everything at the moment felt a little unsteady. 
“I grew up with an abusive father, I spent most of my life fighting to survive.” He gave you a quick glance before focusing back on the road, “So I know what’s it like, to wish someone would just help, for someone to just take you away from the one place you’re supposed to feel safe in.” 
You remained silent for the next few minutes, Tim groaned at the sigh of the traffic ahead of him. “We’re going to be here a while,” he commented. 
You sighed, “my dad died in front of me,” you spoke up. 
Tim glanced over at you, “my parents were high school sweethearts apparently and when my dad passed away, my mom couldn’t handle it. I’m sure if you went down skid row, you’d find her lying on the ground somewhere with a needle stuck in her arm. I’ve been in and out of foster homes since I was eight. My mom's been in and out of rehab since then.” 
“That’s not easy,” Tim commented. He had a lot of things to say about how your mother handled things but to each their own. His heart ached at the thought that you didn’t have a good structure in your life. 
“Nope,” you responded. “Rachel was the only one that ever did something to take me out of my previous foster home, even if it almost cost her job.” 
“And now you feel like you’ve wasted all your resources.” 
“Yeah,” you said softly. “Just five more years and I’ll be out of the system's hands.” 
The traffic began to move again. Minutes later, Tim pulled into the school parking lot. “Before you go,” he began as he reached into his shirt pocket, took out a card, and handed it to you. “If you ever need anything and I mean anything, you give me a call.” 
You took the card, giving him a small smile, “Thank you, Officer Bradford.” you got out of the shop, closing the door behind you. Giving Tim a small wave goodbye before you snuck back into campus. 
Tim made it his personal assignment to check up on you from there on out, to make sure you were all right, not just for you but for Rachel too. It was the least he could do, even though everything within him wanted to do more. He wanted to save you from your personal hell, but it was impossible for him at the moment. 
When he made it back to the station, Rachel was there waiting for him, “How’d it go?” 
“I gave her my card, and told her she could call me if there’s anything she needed. I’ll do a wellness check before the end of my shift,” he stated. 
“Thank you.” Rachel sighed, “She was one of my first cases, so she means a lot to me.” The two of them remained quiet for a moment, the situation between the two of them has been different since Rachel got a job in New York. “Promise me something?” 
Tim looked up at her, “Anything.” 
“Look after her for me? While I’m gone. She could use a guardian angel.” 
Tim smiled, “Of course.” Tim couldn’t help but feel a dreading sensation within him, he hated that he couldn’t do more. 
The weeks to come were difficult for Tim, with Rachel leaving and all the shit that went down within the station. He felt drained but didn’t show it. Tim needed a change within his life, something to make him work harder within his life. He had his dog and he was happy with his dog, but he still felt like he was missing something. 
There were times when he couldn’t help but wonder if everything hadn’t happened with Isobel if they would have had children by now. What their life would have been like. That’s all he could think about, the what-ifs. 
“Look, everyone has their first puppy, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Tim commented. Lucy, his boot, had been dealing with her first puppy as a rookie. He couldn’t help but tease her about it. 
“Whatever,” Lucy brushed off. 
Tim chuckled as he kept his focus on the street ahead of him. They were heading back to the station to end their shift. Tim was ready to go home and watch the game, to just relax for the next couple of days. 
“Any plans for tonight?” Lucy asked. 
“There’s a game on tonight.” 
“Of course,” she rolled her eyes. 
Once they arrived to the station, Tim was quick to do all his end-of-shift duties before clocking out. He groaned to himself as he stepped outside to be met with darkness. He hated how quick it was to get dark in the winter. 
He got into his car and began his journey back home, listening to music on the way. He came to a slow stop as the light turned red, he glanced towards the sidewalk. It took him a second to process what he saw, he quickly took another look, “What the,” he muttered to himself. The light had turned green and the car behind him honked. Tim groaned and turned his signal light on before pulling off to the side. 
Quickly getting out of the car, he tried his best to catch up to the person he had just seen, “Y/N!?” He asked. 
You quickly turned around, “Shit,” you muttered under your breath. 
“What are you doing out here?” 
You held the strap to your duffle bag tighter, “Um, I-I I’m” Tim waited for you to come up with a good excuse, “I’m on my way home,” you smiled. 
“Really?” You nodded, “then you wouldn’t mind if I gave you a ride?” 
“Well-” 
“Y/N,” he said sternly. 
“Fine.” 
Tim smiled, “let’s go.” 
You followed Tim to his car, getting into the passenger seat as he waited until you had your seatbelt on before driving off. “How you’ve been?” He asked as he began driving in the direction he had just come from. 
You sighed, “Fine.” 
Tim sighed, “I know it’s been two weeks since I’ve done a wellness check.” 
“I didn’t say anything about that.” 
“I know, I just felt the need to apologize,” He reassured. “Have they-” 
“If you’re gonna ask if they’ve hurt me, no. Not since you’ve seen me.” 
“Good,” he responded. 
“You can drop me off at the corner,” You commented. 
“No, I’m going to drop you off in front of your house,” Tim stated. He knew what you were doing, you weren’t fooling him. You were walking the direction away from your home and you had a duffle bag. It was obvious. 
He stopped in front of the house, “here you go,” he said with a smile. 
You clenched your jaw, you hadn’t stepped foot in that house within a week. Going in now would be a death trap. You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t open the car door and get out of that house. Knowing that Tim would wait in his car until he saw you walk inside that house. 
“Well?” 
You sighed, feeling defeated. “Stop acting like you don’t know.” 
“Where have you been staying?” You shrugged, “Y/N,” he said sternly. 
“Under some bridge near Skid Row.” 
“Near skid row!? Y/N!” He exclaimed, “do you have any idea how stupid that is?” 
“I was desperate to get out!” 
“This is the second house we’ve gotten you since I’ve met you, you know what Sasha said! It’s either this or the shelter.” 
“And I chose neither!” 
Tim pinched the bridge of his nose, “how long?” 
“A week.” 
Tim looked at her with wide eyes, “It rained for three days straight this past week!” He sighed, “I gave you my number so you could call me if you needed something and this is what you do.” 
“I wasn’t gonna call you, so you could just have Sasha send me to another home that’ll treat me the same way.” 
“What’s wrong with this one?” He asked as he sat back in his seat. 
“Well, when you say it that way-” 
He sighed, “I’m asking because I need to know.” 
You rolled your eyes, “I caught him watching me…” you looked down at your hands.
“Watching you?” 
“He watched me shower,” You hated how it made you feel, how you just felt exposed every time he would look at you, even if you had clothes on. Tim undid his seatbelt, “Please, don’t go in there.” 
Tim wanted to disregard your request, but he knew the last thing you needed right now was for him to make things worse. It was an issue that would be dealt with tomorrow, for now, he needed to find you a place to stay. “You have a place to stay tonight?” You shook your head, “You do now,” he commented. 
You gave him a confused look, “I have a guest bedroom, you can stay there tonight.” 
“You don’t have to”
“I’m not letting you stay under some bridge near Skid Row nor am I letting you stay in that home. I’ll call Sasha in the morning, for now, you can have my guest room.” 
You wanted to argue with him about how you could defend yourself, but who were you kidding. You’re only fourteen and let’s face the facts. You wanted to sleep in a warm bed. 
The ride back to Tim’s place was quiet and usually, you hated it. The quiet meant you had time to be left alone with your thoughts, but for the first time in a while, your mind was at ease. The drive wasn’t long, Tim helped you carry your duffle inside his house. You heard the tapping of nails hitting the floor, and you were quickly greeted with paws on your chest and a tongue slobbering all over your cheek. 
“Kojo, down!” Tim exclaimed and the dog quickly got down. “Sorry about Kojo.” 
You couldn’t help but smile as you kneeled down next to the dog to give him some love, “you should’ve said you had a dog, I would’ve said yes a long time ago.” 
Tim couldn’t help but smile as you giggled at Kojo’s antics, “Come on, let me show you where you’ll stay tonight.” He gestured for you to follow him. 
You got up from your position next to Kojo and followed Tim down a short hallway, “Alright, the bathroom is the door at the end of the hallway, help yourself to whatever is in the fridge except for my beer. That is off limits, even if you were of age.” He placed your duffle on an ottoman that was placed at the end of the bed, “Do you need any essentials? Toothbrush, toothpas-” 
“I have everything, thanks.” You took in the sight of the bedroom, out of all the rooms you had lived in, many in which you had to share with others, none compared to this one. This one felt inviting. It felt warm. 
It felt different. 
“Everything okay?” Tim asked. 
You gave him a nod, “Yeah, perfect!” 
“Alright, I’ll be in the living room watching a game that started an hour ago, if you need me. You hungry?” 
“Nah, I’m good,” as if on cue, your stomach made a loud noise. 
“it says otherwise,” Tim smirked, “I’ll order some pizza. I’ll let you get settled in, feel free to make yourself at home alright?” 
You gave him a nod, watching as he walked out of the room. You weren’t sure what to do first, to unpack your things or take a shower. Should you unpack your things, if you were going to be sent somewhere else tomorrow? You let out a sigh, laying on the bed, you couldn’t help but wonder, What if you just stayed here instead? 
No, you didn’t want to be more of burden to Tim than you already were. He had done enough for you and was already extending his kindness by letting you stay the night. No need to extend it any further. For now, you were going to allow yourself to enjoy this comfort. To enjoy the warmth of the invitation. 
Taglist: @daffodil0darling
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It's the fact that I have restarted this fic three times already. I can't decide how I want to write it!!
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SEBASTIAN STAN 'A Different Man' premiere The 74th Berlinale
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Started writing just to see what I can get done... I'm already at 2,000 words and I'm not close to being done with this fic.
Y'all are going to hate me... But if anyone watches the rookie, would you read a Tim Bradford x Teen!Reader fic? Maybe Tim becomes a foster dad to a troubled teen?
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Y'all are going to hate me... But if anyone watches the rookie, would you read a Tim Bradford x Teen!Reader fic? Maybe Tim becomes a foster dad to a troubled teen?
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Series: Sehnsucht, Chapter Seven: The Past
Pairings: Geralt x Teen!Reader, Yennefer x Teen!Reader
Warnings: !!! severe child abuse !!! very low self worth !!! Monsters, blood, symptoms of depression, rather descriptive injuries. This one is going to be uncomfortable guys.
Words: 4.9k
------------------------------
—Seven Years Ago, Before the Exile—
The first strike had been sudden and painful, but it wasn’t unexpected. They were always there. The second and third were simply annoying. But now, she curled further into a ball. Another kick barreled into her stomach as a rock hit her head from behind, and all she could hear was their stupid, annoying laughs. 
She bit her tongue and her fingers curled into fists in her hair. 
“Look at her,” someone mocked, “She’s so small.”
“She don’ even cry no more,” another said, and following it was a particularly harsh kick to her lower back. 
“‘Is kinda dis’ppointin’.”
“Yeah.”
“Hey, gots me, grab ‘er hair!”
She twisted and yanked away as a hand dug into her hair, pulling her up onto her knees. She glared through the small group of boys and girls. They weren’t much older than her, but they were just like their fathers, she thought, wretched and stupid. 
“You know, my pa was tellin’ me about these things, us…witter…Witchers! That be what it was. They s’pposed ta kill monsters and stuffs.”
“Yeah! I heard ‘bout them!”
“Pa said there was one in Ban Gleán! He carries two swords!” 
“Really?!” 
“Maybe he’s coming to take care of you,” one of the boys sneered and poked her cheek. She growled and snapped her teeth at him. He jumped back and scowled. She relished in the glimpse of fear that glimmered in his eyes. 
“I bet they make ‘em hurt too, when they kill ‘em,” he said. 
“I heard they cut off their hands and feet and let ‘em bleed out!” 
“My pa said that they skin them alive to make wicked potions! They are wicked folk. Freaks mama said.”
They laughed, and one of them, the short, stubby one with a mole on his lip, leaned down in front of her. “I bet they’d make you hurt real bad, witch. There isn’ta kind of monster like a witch. That’s what my mama says. Bet you’d make a good wicked potion.”
Sneering, the girl spat, and the glob landed right in his eye. He shouted and fell back on his rear, rubbing it away.
“She spat me in tha eye!” he cried, but all of them were startled silent when she started laughing. Muddy and bruised, a trail of blood seeping from her split lip, her blue eyes lit up as she stared through him. She smiled and laughed.
The boy screamed. “Get her! Get her ‘fore she cast a spell! She spat—she gonna make me blind!”
The others began to kick again, and she fell back to the ground and huddled into a ball. 
“Witch!”
“Don’t let her talk!”
“You gonna be whipped for that!”
And they continued until she could no longer hold up her hands over her face, until she did start to cry. Until at last, she whimpered. Only then were they satisfied. The boy spat on her as they began to walk away and left her in the dirt. 
She stayed there until the pain began to ease. Slowly, she got up to her feet and dusted off her dress. There was a hole in the elbow of the garment now, and she frowned. Her mother would be displeased.
Without a sound, she continued on her original mission: leave the gates and play in the forest. There wasn’t anyone actually guarding these gates, never had been, and no one was around besides those other kids. They were done with her now, though. She clenched her fists as a burning enveloped her eyes and she sniffled.
The gates swung open against her forceful shove, and she stalked off into the woods. It never really mattered were she was going, as long as it wasn’t in the village. No one there was very kind. Besides, the trees were prettier from this side of the wall. And no one threw rocks at the birds, and there were more ladybugs. The best of it all, though, was no one else played out there. Their parents didn’t like them playing near the river because of all the sharp rocks. She actually like them. They were pointy and weird. 
Trudging along, she grimaced as an ache overtook her chest. She hated it not only because it made her eyes burn with tears and her throat swell up in knots, but because it was stupid. She was what she was, and she didn’t want to cry about it, even if Witchers looked for her. She would not cry about it. She refused.
The river was higher than normal, she thought as she sat down beside the bank beneath a tree. She watched it flow, rushing and dangerous, and smiled. She didn’t fight it as her eyes grew heavy, she didn’t try and move further away from the rapid shores. She didn’t really care, and so sleep—peaceful, painless sleep—overcame her. At last, she was content. 
She liked sleep, which others thought was strange. It was easier, and calmer. No one talked to her, and she didn’t have to hide from anyone. No, they would leave her alone. Everything was better when the world was darkened and she could dream. After all, her dreams didn’t hurt so much. Waking up was the dreadful part of it all. 
She was brought into this dreadful state of waking from the peace by a hand grabbing hold of her ankle. The very moment her eyes opened, she screamed.
Gangly and bare skinned with pale white eyes, a creature so vividly disgusting pulled her leg toward its sharp teeth, hauling her small body easily toward the river. She kicked and screamed, her foot landing in its eye and it howled. It was unlike anything she had ever heard, and with this croak and mangled scream it fell onto its side. 
She scrambled to get to her feet but managed only two steps before the thing lunged forward and grabbed her again. The thing had fins along its back, ears like fans spreading to the back of its head. She gagged at the smell, like the scum of the river had mutated with rotting flesh.
Its sharp claws tore her dress as it dug into her legs once again, and this time, she could not kick it off. It hissed and groaned as she screamed. The water dripped off it and onto her as she slapped and pushed away its crooked face. Its mouth opened wide for her arm, baring its teeth like a starved animal. With a broken cry, she closed her eyes. The thing croaked and gurgled, and she waited for the bite—the pain.
There was a sharp hiss, like that of metal, before the weight of the thing collapsed onto her. Frightened, she didn’t dare to open her eyes even as she struggled. She did scream though, as a hand gripped her arm and the weight was thrown off of her. 
“Ack! Settle—settle down, kid, it’s dead,” a deep voice started, and she snapped her eyes open. “It’s dead!” 
Her whole body trembled uncontrollably as she looked at the man kneeling in front of her. He was big, and he held a sword, one that was dripping in strange blood. His hair was white and his nose was weird. She was now too focused on his eyes, though, to notice the dead creature not a foot away from her. His eyes were yellow—no, they were golden, and excessively strange.
“Are you alright?” he asked. She took a moment, thinking deeply about the question. “Are you hurt?”
Looking down at her hands, she didn’t see anything wrong with them, but her leg hurt so bad she didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t have to say anything though, because the man looked at the torn edge of her dress and pushed aside the fabric. He grimaced, and once she saw, she did too. A large cut split her leg open from her ankle to her knee. 
Pressing his lips into a thin line, he nodded, seemingly to himself, but when he reached out to her, she flinched. Her head turned sharply away and toward the creature, and the blood drained from her face. 
“What…” she started, voice tense and gravely from the lack of consistent use. “What is it?”
“A Drowner, a monster of sorts,” he said. “It’s dead now.”
Her heart sank in her chest as it began to beat wildly. The pounding resonated in her ears and she could feel it all the way down into her toes. Her lips trembled as she stared at the dead Drowner. Is that what a monster was?
Stiffly, she turned back to the man who still knelt in front of her, his sword still drawn and not but a foot away from her. It was here she noticed he had two swords, one with a metal wolf’s head within its pommel. It was similar to the one captured in silver dangling from his neck. A Witcher.
She didn’t flinch this time when he reached out. There didn’t seem to be a point anymore, a reason to look away. He was a Witcher, he killed monsters…it was simple. She didn’t know what to think when his gloved hand rested on her arm and rubbed up and down along her skin. All she could recognize was that it was gentle. She was grateful for that much. 
“Do you live in the village?” he asked. 
She nodded. He nodded once again to himself before pulling out a rag from a leather pocket on his belt. It was old and tattered, but she quickly realized why it was red when he swiped it over his blade. He cleaned off the blood before he sheathed his sword over his shoulder. 
“Can you walk?” he asked again and was again met with silence. Sighing, his lips pressed into a thin line before he reached out to her. He carefully lifted her up and pulled her against him, standing as he did. Her hands gripped at his leather jerkin as her whole body began to shake, her eyes wide and terrified. 
“It’s alright…you’re safe,” he said. Something in his voice was defeated. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You won’t?” she asked in a broken whisper. 
“I won’t…” he thought for a moment, and seemingly finding the words, said, “I only kill monsters.”
She didn’t know what she felt then, something light and warm, but it was so terribly overwhelming. The knot swelled so tightly in her throat she began to cry—sob, really. Her head buried itself into his shoulder, her little hands clutched him tightly around his neck. She cried even as he repositioned her and wrapped his arm over her back, his hand cradling her head to keep her close. 
Geralt didn’t say much, but his hold was careful and snug, and he didn’t let go as they walked. His words were on constant repeat in her thoughts, though, over and over and over and over. He wouldn’t hurt her because he only killed monsters.
“What’s your name?” she asked quietly when her cries had settled a bit. 
“Geralt of Rivia.”
“You’re a Witcher?”
“I am,” he said heavily.
She smiled as her head peeked up out of his shoulder. Though he didn’t smile in return exactly, his lips twitched, and she thought it was enough. His eyes were also softer than she had ever seen before, though heavy. No one had ever looked at her like that. Like…well, like she was normal.
“You have really pretty eyes, Witcher Geralt.”
“...” he raised his brows, looking at her strangely and adjusting her in his arms. “So do you.”
“Really?” she asked, lighting up. Something stirred in her chest as her smile grew wide. “Do I?” 
He grunted with a short nod and she giggled suddenly, resting her head against his shoulder once more, perfectly content to remain there for the rest of their journey.
“Witcher Geralt?” she said after several minutes of walking in silence. 
“What is it?”
“Thank you for saving me.”
“You’re welcome…”
“Did—” she stopped herself, trailing off as the gates of the village formed beyond the treeline.
“What is it?”
“Did the monster suffer?”
“...” the Witcher was silent. “No. I prefer to make a quick kill.”
She smiled again, and hummed. “That’s good.”
The Witcher looked at her with a strange gaze, but he said nothing more as they approached the village. He carried her through the town, speaking to people about her until he found her mother. As he spoke to her mother, he set her on the ground. 
She swiftly ran into her house, to which she missed the raised brow and amused chuckle he gave at her sudden ability to walk. He smiled more genuinely when she returned with a loaf of bread and dried meat. She shoved it in his face when he knelt down for her. 
“What is this for?” he asked, though he still accepted it. She shrugged with a small smile and tossed her hands about. He nodded. “Alright, well thank you. Try not to go back to the river okay? It is dangerous this time of year.”
She nodded quickly, and he stood, returning to his conversation with her mother about how to clean a Drowner’s scratch. She sat down and watched him, even as the others passed them with strange looks, with something dreadful she didn’t wish to name. There wasn’t anyone who could have told her how much she would have regretted her decision. To sit there, to have given him bread…to have not died by the Drowner’s teeth. Even if the regret did fade away into something else entirely, this was the last day of anything familiar. 
She was later grateful that the last good thing she ever did there was to give a Witcher bread for his journey. That she didn’t waste the last act of kindness in that place on someone meaningless and despicable. She went to bed that night with a full stomach, a patched up leg, and blissfully unaware of the ill the next day would bring. 
One would think the child had suffered enough, that Destiny could not be so cruel to one as young as she. One would have thought humanity would kindle in one person’s heart to have seen her sleep peacefully. That her father would lend out a kind hand toward her. But, for all the things that should have been, nothing but violent distaste and hatred was born in the hearts of everyone who saw her. They knew the unnatural color of her eyes even if they were closed. They knew what laid beneath her skin and hid in her blood and bones. They knew of the chaos. And so, when dawn arose, and her father returned home in the bare sunlight, there was nothing but contempt to greet her when she opened her eyes once more. 
She didn’t know what was happening at first, but once she had been taken from her bed, she was marched out of the house. Only then did cold, sudden realization wash over her. A crowd formed around their home, but given her father was the alderman, it wasn’t this that made her heart sink. 
It was the drums. 
The beat echoed against the ground and into her bones, consistent as they shoved her toward the town center. They weren’t musical drums. They were ones used on a march, ones for war, only these she had only ever heard when someone was to be punished for breaking the law. And now, as her father pushed her forward and all eyes were on her, she knew. And she began to scream.
Her voice cracked as she began to beg and scream, trying to push back against her father’s grip, but he shoved her forward again and again. Her mother didn’t even raise her head to look at her. The drums grew louder.
As the last turn into the courtyard approached, she began to thrash. Her heart beat against her chest as they made it into the large arena. A single iron post stood in the center of the circular yard, surrounded by the rest of the villagers.
She began to shake uncontrollably as her wrists were forced against the pole and metal clasps were braced over them. The roaring crowd settled as a man stepped forward. He looked down at her with a scowl, and straightening his back in self-importance, began in a loud voice.
“For two crimes has this witch been called to the stand for punishment. Though accepted due to her prestigious relation to the alderman, she had committed unforgivable sins and tainted the blessings of tolerance she had been given. For this reason, the alderman has released her to me today. First, for having left the village at midday for weeks, this witch beguiled the monsters of the forest and brought them to our very borders! Giant pests have plagued the village, rats in the storehouses, monstrous birds have taken the chickens! And now! Now there are Drowners! She has brought them to the very waters we gather from, that we use to bathe the children!” 
He paused here as the crowd erupted in discontent. Her eyes widened as the man turned to look at her, and for her life, she could not see any color. His eyes were like empty, bottomless pits. He continued. “For the sin of consorting with monsters, she will receive ten lashes from the lamia.”
Her sobs fell on deaf ears, and as she opened her mouth, pleas tumbling from her lips, the man stepped forward and struck her so hard her ears rang.
“Be silent, Witch!” he screamed, his spit spraying over her face. “Your spells and deceptions will not hold in my presence.”
She continued to cry, but she did not dare to speak again as the man unhooked the lamia from his belt. She closed her eyes, because perhaps, if she didn’t look, she would wake up. Part of her knew, though, there wouldn’t be any waking up, this wasn’t a nightmare. It was this part of her mind that drew her fingers into a fist, pulling them near the metal clasps and ducked her head low to protect them from the wayward strokes of the spiked whip. It was this part of her mind that didn’t flinch as someone tore open the back of her gown to expose the target. Old marks from her first whipping remained on her back in scars. Though, then it had only been a couple of lashes. 
She grit her teeth and tears slipped over her cheeks as the crowd held their breath.
As the whip cracked and echoed in the courtyard, she screamed so piercingly the ground stirred beneath her. For ten lashes, no one stepped forward. For ten blood-curdling screams, no one dared to stop the punishment. Not a single person there, besides perhaps ones who had been where she was, even thought to wonder if this treatment was harsh. And when ten had passed, her mind fell into a deep haze.
Her breaths came in pants, harsh and broken with cries, her vision coming in and out as blood seeped from the open wounds in her back. She could barely hear the man speaking as he rolled up the whip and hooked it back on his belt, blood dripping from the spikes. 
“For the second crime…distasteful mutants, abominations! … Sanctity of the village and for the others who may dare…company…to protect those who associate with her! That they may not be deceived…for the sin of associating and conspiring with a Witcher, she will bare the Witcher’s signet for the rest of her days…all will know…loyalties of…” 
She barely registered the crowd tossing rotten food at her, or how they parted like the sea for another man, in his hands a long iron rod. Its end smoked, a ring encompassing a large “W” and as it drew near to her face, immense heat washed over her and she trembled. She very quickly became aware as horror filled her to the brim, and yet, she was unable to move. Her back tortured her in so many ways she was incapable of rising, and her hands were too weak to fight against the chains. 
As searing hot metal was pressed into the left shoulder of her back, she screamed. Time slowed and all there was was pain pain pain. It was all consuming, and the worst thing she had ever felt. The scent of cooked flesh invaded her senses, the sear and bubble of her skin beneath the rod. She was branded for all to know and see, and she, in that moment, hated everything she was. 
She hated that to them, she was nothing more than a bare, gangly, pale-eyed monster that sprung up from rivers to eat children. She wondered if they knew she would have torn herself apart if it meant they would look kindly at her. That if it was her eyes they hated, she would have ripped them out and laid them in their open palms if only they had asked. But she was a monster, and it was the only thing she was, and the only thing she would ever be. She could not carve out her soul for them, for she did not know how. 
“You are not a monster,” a deep, gravely voice said, and she could not define it otherwise. Though, as it spoke, the pain lessened, and she could no longer hear the sound of her own voice. Nothing moved, and she didn’t even know if she was breathing.
“I am what they say I am,” she thought. 
“What you are is a child.”
“Even monsters can be children.”
“...will you let me convince you?”
“How?”
“Let me take you from here, from this place. You will never need to return.”
She almost wanted to laugh. “What should I pay you?”
“...” the voice paused. “Will you change when the time comes, to become something more than what you have seen in all your life? To be better than the only thing you have known?”
Desperate, the child agreed. Away, behind the crowd, a face took shape. It was like stone and smoke, but in all that it was, it was not frightening. No, it took the shape of a young man with earthen skin, and he looked at her with kindness and desperation. He looked to her as a hand reaching out, a kind eye, and nothing could have prevented her from looking away as he came near to her. The people were still, unmoving in the midst of their breath, as if time itself had stopped entirely. The man pressed through them like smoke. 
Whispering, the creature knelt in front of her. His smile was uneven. “I am D’ao, one of many, a keeper of the Elemental Planes. An Earth Genie, in human myth. By request, I’ll bind myself to you, but not in chains, for all chains can be broken. I will make you the gate for the four planes, and through you, all keepers will be able to pass. In return, we will be your source.”
The girl’s lower lip began to tremble. “I don’t understand.”
“In time, you will. I will explain everything.”
“Will it hurt?”
“No more than a prick, little one. Certainly no more than which you have already suffered.”
She nodded. “And we can leave?”
D’ao nodded. 
“Please…” she whispered, broken.
“Then do not be frightened,” he said, standing. He grew to the size of a great thundercloud. D’ao encapsulated the village, and his voice grew loud as the ground beneath her knees began to tremble. A spell of Elder words erupted from his mouth and descended upon the entire village, her chest as the center on which they all collided. The earth groaned and shook under the weight of each word, and her knees sank further into the ground until the soil had buried her legs within it. As the last words of the binding were spoken, D’ao looked down at her from the heights of his monstrosity of dust and smoke and smiled.
“It will be alright,” he said. 
All at once, time resumed. D’ao was gone, his cloud dissipated as though he was never really there, but a fragment opened inside her mind. People moved, the searing pain in her shoulder returned, and she breathed in once more. As she screamed against the burning of her skin, the earth around her knees cracked open and erupted like the thrust of lava from a volcano. The crowd flew back and collapsed as the ground within the courtyard shook violently.
Houses trembled and groaned, their roofs caved in, unable to withstand the earthquake. She continued to scream until the ground cratered beneath her, until the very clasps she was chained with snapped loose and no one was left standing. 
There was a loud, continuous ringing in her ears when her lips sealed back upon themselves, her lungs deprived of oxygen and her throat raw. The clasps that had bound her slipped off her wrists as the dust began to settle. The villagers began to stir, standing up to their feet as they looked down at her from the edges of the crater that had taken the entire courtyard, her at its center. She looked up at them as blood dripped from her back, as her skin bubbled and blistered. Each and every person that had been in that yard stood back up, and as shouts and murmurs erupted amongst them, as the fear grew, a strong sensation filled her head and traveled around her spine. 
“You let them live,” D’ao said in her thoughts, and the surprise was evident in his voice. And even as they looked at her, a decision made up in their thoughts, all she could think about was the Drowner by the river and the terror that had filled her when she saw it. 
“Are my eyes frightening?” she asked as the villagers descended the crater in a raging mob. They all argued, but exile was settled. For if the child, the creature, was capable of such things through pain, what would it do when faced with death? 
“...” D’ao sighed, and she thought it sounded sad. “No, child.”
“But they do frighten people…” she said, and a large hand gripped her shoulder as another tugged at her arm. They hauled her weak body up out of the crater, and once they broke the precipice, a rain of rotten food pelted her. She didn’t really feel it, didn’t really see it. The world was a blur, and the sounds lost in an ocean of ringing haze. She didn’t feel anything, actually.
“They do…”
“Why?”
“They can’t stand the monster within themselves, so they put their monster within someone else.”
“Why me?” she asked as they reached the edge of the village, the gate she had passed through so many times and for some unknown reason, always returned through. A woman—Valeska—knelt in front of her with a small dagger sheathed within a leather strap and wrapped the belt around her waist. The girl barely heard her when she spoke about going east. 
“Because you are different, little keeper, and people fear what they do not understand,” he said. The doors of the village gate were torn off their hinges to make way for the raging mob, and she was thrust out. 
“D’ao?” she asked as she collided with the ground, the skin of her knees tearing and small rocks dug into the palms of her hands. She could hardly keep her weight on her arms.
“Yes?”
“I never want to come back here.”
“Okay. I won’t make you.”
“...” her lips began to tremble once more. “Will you stay with me?”
“Of course. I am your guardian now…I will be right here.”
As she turned her back on the village, she smiled grimly as tears welled up in her eyes. The people screamed, but she did not hear them. They tossed food, but she could not feel or smell it. It was as though the entire world was drowned out beneath the ocean, and she alone stood at the edge of the endless expanse to observe, but never to be within. 
“Thanks, D’ao.”
“Always, En’ca minne (little love / darling).”
—Currently—
The more her surroundings grew familiar, the less she could feel of the warm remnants of Kaer Morhen. The less she could see of Yennefer and Geralt and Ciri. The more everything seemed like a distant, wonderful dream. It was bitter, and she hated the emptiness the dream left behind. After all, it was only a matter of time before they saw what she was, wasn’t it? 
It was a strange thing being back home after all this time. She was not the same child she had once been, but there was a lingering trace of herself here. A part of her inexplicably bound to the trees and soil, the water and air. She had grown in many ways, in mind and magic and age. It was unquantifiable, but still, a part of her would never be able to leave this place. 
She shivered and clenched her jaw when the western outskirts of Ban Gleán came into view. The familiar wooden fence around the small village, the rising, stubby watchtowers useless and falling apart. It reeked, as always, on this side, of urine and dung, and something more now—something spoilt. The river flowed loudly in the distance, beating against jagged rocks within its flow. She smiled. She would have smiled still if a Drowner’s croak had been with it. 
Approaching, she shoved open the front gates, and for the first time in seven years, she stepped foot into the one place she had sworn she would never see again.
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afictionaladventure16 · 3 months
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I need angry love confessions in the rain with Pedro pleaseee
Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader
warnings: angst with happy ending, and no context whatsoever just feels and my overdramatic writing
a/n: im not sure this is what you meant but this is what my brain decided on
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"y/n stop!"
"No!" you yelled now, fully yelled, screamed at the top of your lungs, because fuck this, fuck everything, you were tired, you were fucking exhausted and you were done being kind.
Rain was falling like splinters of glass shattered all over the concrete, you could still hear the sound of laughter from the bar and his heavy footsteps behind you, so you fastened your pace, your makeup melting underneath the water falling from the sky and your dress drenched, but all you needed to do was run
"y/n wait a fucking second!"
"fuck off Pedro!" 
But his hand was already on your wrist, that never-dying feeling only he ignited still inevitably, annoyingly there.
"Listen to me!"
"No" you said, still turned away, like a child throwing a tantrum
"It's not what you think"
You could have run, you could have freed yourself from his hold and ran to the main street to catch a cab home, but you didn't, for some god-forsaken reason you had turned.
"I hate you" 
You could already tell what he was about to say from the look in his eyes, that fucking look, and those fucking words
The same ones you would have killed to hear just a day ago
"I love you"
You clenched your teeth, shaking your head
"yeah well good for you," you said "It's too late" you shook his hand off of you "you know it's too late"
"but it's not" he breathed "It's never too late, y/n I fucking love you" he sighed, his hair a wet mess all over his forehead "please, just-"
"no" this time tears almost spilling out together with your words "You've had all the time in the fucking world to say that. I've waited for you for a fucking eternity, for you to say that to me, for you to mean it... so no Pedro, you don't get to do this now" you cried "You don't get to say that you love me and make everything else go away, that's not how it works. It's too fucking late."
And so you turned, your back to him, an empty street, blurred by the tears staining your sight, in front of you,
I did the right thing
I deserve better
I don't need him
I just need to get home
"I'm sorry"
He was in front of you, his eyes glimmering, his chest heaving
"I'm sorry y/n" and in his voice was everything, the pain, the pleading, the desperation 
"I'm sorry," he said again, one of his knees hitting the ground "I'm sorry" and there went the other.
He was kneeling in front of you, taking your hands in his
"I'm sorry about everything, about making you wait, about how I treated you, how I let everyone else treat you... I'm sorry I didn't know sooner, except of course, I've always known" he paused, looking up at you as if you were a god with the power to take his life away in the blink of an eye, and perhaps at that moment you were.
"The truth is- the truth's that I'm a coward, that I'm an asshole, that I'm million different awful things that I'm sure you know better than anyone," he said "but before everything, before everything, I'm yours" he breathed, "my heart is yours, only yours, because I long for you, every moment of the day I miss you y/n, I think about you, I dream of you- you- you are everything y/n, You are my everything"
The thunderstorm around you was only getting worse, but all you could feel now were his hands grasping yours, and his words melting your heart.
"And I understand if you don't want to forgive me, I do, but I just- I needed you to understand... I needed you to understand that when I say that I love you I mean it, that without you I'm lost, that this feeling for you, this- this god awful, scary feeling isn't going anywhere, and no matter what you decide here now, I will always, until they bury me six feet under... love you more than life"
And what to do? What to do when he was right there, kneeling before you in the pouring rain?
What could you have done, what could anyone have done, with their heart racing and their brain a mess, but do the same?
So you knelt, you dropped to the ground to him,
and this time, he was there to catch you, your tears mixing with the rain as you finally felt his lips on yours.
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afictionaladventure16 · 3 months
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Me & The Devil - Chapter 1
(Severus Snape X Female Reader)
'Me & The Devil' Masterlist
Description: You're a naturally gifted Legilimens, leading to Dumbledore recruiting you to join the faculty at Hogwarts in order to help protect Harry Potter and defend Hogwarts, before eventually recruiting you into The Order of The Phoenix.
However the longer you spend at Hogwarts, the more your feelings for the cold brooding potions master grow, despite your attempt to push them aside.
Notice: Some events in the story play out differently in this fic due to you being at Hogwarts and you being a Legilimens and there's a 7 year age gap between you and Snape. Also this series is going to be partially based off of the books and partially based off of the films
Word Count: 4,320
Warnings: Age gap
This Chapters Song/s:
Hate Myself - Dodie
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You stood in the headmasters office, the autumn sun streaming through the windows.
Besides Severus Snape, you had also discovered- upon first meeting the head master of Hogwarts, that you weren’t able to peer into the mind of Albus Dumbledore either. Because of this, you couldn’t help but feel that same sense of vulnerability you had when first meeting Snape. Defenceless. You’re tools not working. Like a blacksmith with no fire, or like a knight running into battle with a sword but no armour or shield.
“You seem nervous”, Dumbledore's voice pulls you from your thoughts. It's starting to feel as though that’s all people here see you as; a ball of nervousness. It made you feel like a liability rather than someone of help.
“Forgive me, Professor”, you say, attempting to shake off your uneasy aura.
“You needn’t worry. No one else here can read my mind. Rest assured, if I disliked you, you’d know”.
“I feel it’s slightly unfair that you can defend yourself so easily against my abilities, yet you can read my mind so easily”, you laugh at the irony, shaking your head slightly at your predicament.
“I’m not reading your mind. Once you’ve worked in my field for as long as I have, reading people becomes easy. Even without the art of Ligilimency”, Dumbledore chuckled and gestures for you to take the seat opposite him at his desk, to which you comply. “You shouldn’t have to rely on it to make others like you. You can be yourself here”, he reassured you before offering you a bowl of sunny yellow hardboiled sweets. “Sherbet Lemon?”, he offered. You smiled sheepishly and took one from the bowl before placing it in your mouth.
“So, regarding Professor Lupin...”, Dumbledore began. “You’ve spent a lot of time around him these past few weeks. What’s your verdict”.
“He is not working with Sirius Black”, you state clearly. “He is still grieving the loss of his friends and he fears for Harry’s well being. He sees so much of James in him. If he were working with him, he would have slipped up by now”.
Dumbledore gave a single nod before asking, “And what of the other staff?”.
“Nothing to note. The only one I can’t speak for would be Severus. He won’t let his guard down for a second”.
“I’m not concerned with Severus. I trust him. Yet, it wouldn’t hurt if you were to gain his trust”, he hummed, allowing himself to mull over his thoughts. “Yes, I think that would be best. Given his talent for Occlumency and your natural Legilimency gift, as well as him being the Potions Master here at Hogwarts and yourself becoming a teacher of Herbology, the two of you shall be working very closely, I can assure you”.
“Of course. I’ll see what I can do”, is all you said in response, an uncomfortable knot forming in your stomach at the idea of spending so much time with someone you could not read at all.
“I’ll also request he helps you with Occlumency since with the amount of information you’ll be trusted with, we should have you prepared to defend yourself if needed”.
You swallowed thickly at the mention of this but agreed nonetheless.
 
After your first report to Dumbledore, that same night, Snape had approached you after dinner. He pulled you aside as you left the hall, leading you roughly by the arm out of site from the students and other faculty members. You jolted in surprise, initially digging your heels into the ground to prevent you from moving, before realising it was Snape who had your upper arm in a vice like grip.
“For the love of Merlin! You know if you want to talk to a woman, you don’t manhandle her into a quiet corridor”, you grumble as you straightened out your robes, wincing at the residual pain from where Severus had clamped on to your arm. “It makes you seem like some deranged nutcase”.
“Do forgive me. I had no idea you were so sensitive”, he states bluntly, a snarl curling onto his lips as he glanced down at where you nursed your now sore arm, not sounding apologetic in the slightest.
“And I had no idea you were so rough”, you frown, glaring into his deep, dark eyes. You’re about to speak, but Snape beats you to it.
“Professor Dumbledore has asked that I assist you in developing your Occlumency skills”, he drawls before quirking an eyebrow. “I must say, I’m surprised someone so skilled in Legilimency struggles with basic Occlumency”.
“I don’t struggle with the basics”, you snap back, Snape folding his arms in front of himself as he glares down at you. Having him stand within a step of you makes the height difference between the both of you feel much greater, having to crane your head up slightly to meet his cold gaze. “No one taught me... Everyone assumes I’m also naturally gifted with Occlumency too. Not to mention I’ve never had a reason to defend myself against such magic until now”.
Snape tilts his head just a fraction as he watched you, face not changing in the slightest. You wish you could tell what he was thinking. “We begin this weekend. Saturday and Sunday afternoons. We shall continue to meet until I can no longer penetrate that dull mind of yours”, and with that Snape leaves, leaving you with your mouth slightly agape once again, not having expected the added insult. Your temporary shock is then converted into a rage that bubbles under your skin and you storm off to your chamber, hating yourself for not saying anything in response before Snape had stormed away.
 
 A few days later, you and Lupin had been lounging in the staff room, huddled close to the fire place as the weather had suddenly grown much colder.
“Severus has never been good at talking to pretty women... or women in general for that matter”, Remus teased as you ran your hand gently over the bruise that had formed from where Snape had grabbed you.
You shoved the scruffy man playfully, but added with a more serious note, “Don’t say that”. You would agree that Snape wasn’t the best, however you believed that didn’t give Remus the right to tease him.
“You shouldn’t defend him so much, you know”, Remus scoffed.
“I’m not defending him. I just don’t agree with bullying others”, you rolled your eyes playfully.
“I that’s hardly fair when he is the one bullying his students on a daily basis”, Remus shot back.
“I know. I don’t necessarily agree with his teaching methods”, you shook your head. “I know he gives that boy- Neville Longbottom- a hard time. The poor thing”, you frown.
“Yes, he’s had a serious effect on Neville. So much so that his boggart takes the form of Professor Snape”. Your eyes widened at this news. “I must say though, Neville’s use of ‘Riddikulus’ was very amusing to say the least”, he chuckled as he leaned back against the sofa and you allowed yourself to peer into his memory as he recalled it.
 
Snape strode out of the wardrobe, sauntering his way over to Longbottom, a malicious glint in those deep dark eyes. Neville was trembling on the spot, making your heart ache for the boy, wanting to reach out and comfort him more than anything.
Remus called out for Neville to prepare himself and a moment later Neville cast his spell...
“Riddikulus!”
Snape’s regular black robes were replaced by an emerald green skirt and matching blazer, red handbag and an eyesore of a hat with a vulture perched atop it. The class erupted into laughter and an amazed smile flickered across Neville's face before he begins laughing along with his classmates.
 
You found yourself giggling along with Remus at the memory. “It sounds like your lesson was interesting to say the least”, you mused. “I remember the first time I fought a boggart at school”, you began. “It had taken the form of a giant void that slowly grew in size, gradually swallowing up the classroom... the fear of the unknown”, you explained, casting a glance to Remus who seemed fascinated by your tale. “I then used ‘Riddikulus’ to turn it into the night sky, full of stars and fireworks. I didn’t pass since my result wasn’t humour, but oh well”, you laughed off your memory.
‘I bet it looked wonderful’.
A comfortable silence settled over the pair of you as you listened to the fire crackle and roar.
“I can’t believe he’s been spotted near the castle”, you suddenly said, a frown swarming your features. “He really is trying to get to the Potter boy... isn’t he?”.
Lupin looked over your worried features before patting a reassuring hand against yours, much like Minerva had on your first day. “Seems that way doesn’t it”, he nodded. “We have to be on our guard. If Sirius Black was able to escape from Azkaban, who knows what else he’s capable of”, Remus muttered bitterly, before releasing a tense sigh. “But I’m sure everything will be fine. Hogwarts is the safest place I know”.
You couldn’t help but let out a laugh of disbelief as you watched the flames dance around the fireplace. “After hearing what occurred here the past two years?... I wouldn’t be so sure of that”.
 
 
The Friday before your first Occlumency session with Snape , you were teaching your third year class, with Professor Sprout observing the lesson.
You seemed to get along with the majority of the students. Many liked the fact that you had no bias towards any of the four houses since you didn’t belong to one. Many others felt as though they could relate to you more due to you being younger than their other professors. It seemed to make you more relatable and more approachable in their minds.
You had a pot of Niffler’s Fancy on the table, discussing it’s properties and uses, as well as explaining to your class how it’s leaves are known to be used as a form of primitive currency.
“Now, do any of you have an inkling as to why this plant is named ‘Niffler’s Fancy’?”, you ask the class, a few hands shooting up. You noticed one boy raise his arm a little slower than the others, uncertainty written all over his features, but he was trying and you wanted to give him the chance.
‘It’s because nifflers are attracted to shiny and valuable objects and their leaves are like copper’, you could hear his thoughts.
“Yes, Mr Longbottom?”, you called on him.
“Is it because of its leaves?”, he asked more than answered your question.
“You’re certainly on the right track. Can you elaborate why it’s leaves may give it its name?”, you pushed, wanting him to answer correctly. A few other hands shot up to answer around him, but you disregarded them, wanting to give Neville the confidence boost he so desperately needed.
“Is it because nifflers are attracted to valuable objects like gold, silver, bronze, diamonds, and it’s leaves are bronze”, he began to trail off, once again sounding unsure of himself.
“Yes! Exactly, well done Mr Longbottom!”, you praised him, earning a bashful grin from the boy.
As you walked past him later in the lesson, you quietly said to him, “Have more confidence in yourself Neville. You’re smarter than you think”, to which he nodded timidly in response.
The remainder of the lesson ran smoothly. Students taking notes and you answering any questions they had before you then set a short piece of homework to do some further research into what Niffler’s Fancy could possibly be used for.
“What a splendid lesson! Well done!”, Professor Sprout cheered as the students spilled out of the room, heading back towards the castle.
“Thank you, Pomona”, you said gleefully, pride swelling in your chest as you cleared up the classroom. “The third years are my favourite year group to teach. They’re all so wonderful”, you gushed.
“Yes, they are quite a talented bunch”, Pomona agreed, helping you to clear the last few bits. “Since you’ve got a free period, would you mind running a few ingredients down to Severus in the dungeons”. You cringed at the thought, not wanting to have to interact with the berating potions master unless absolutely necessary. Pomona must have noticed your reaction as she then said, “Come on, stay professional. He’s not that bad”. She quickly made her way to her stock cupboard and pulled out a few jars of various ingredients; mandrake root, wormwood and wolfsbane were a few you recognised. “The sooner you take these to him, the sooner you can leave and carry on about your day”.
“You’re right”, you exhale, running a hand through your hair. She made a strong point. This was part of your job. You had to remain professional.
Pomona places the jars in your arms and before you know it, you’re sent on your way to the dungeons.
 
It was cold down in the depths of the castle and a damp smell lingered in the air. You couldn’t help but wonder how the Slytherin students could stand having their common room down here. You walked along the dark hallways, searching for the correct class room, following the faint sound of bubbling cauldrons. Eventually you found the man you were looking for.
You peered through the doorway to the class, spotting Severus looming over his students, circling around them like a vulture. He was watching their every move, like he was waiting for one of them to make a mistake, or perhaps in attempts to prevent one from happening. Once again, you couldn’t tell. The man was unreadable.
Surprisingly, it was a handful of the students in the class who noticed your presence first as you stood in the doorway.  The others remained focused on their work. Their minds either thinking about how much they disliked the lesson they were currently in, how much they disliked Snape, or how they were riddled with stress and anxiety about ruining their concoction.
Once Snape had noticed eyes lingering on the doorway to his classroom instead of their cauldrons, his eyes snapped to you. Eyes narrowing in your direction.
“I have some ingredients for you, Professor Snape”, you said simply, gesturing to the multiple jars in your arms.
Snape stormed towards you, and you decided to meet him half way. “Would you mind not distracting my students from their studies the next time you deliver ingredients to me”, he grumbled, taking three jars from you.
‘He’s so rude-‘, ‘I can’t believe he said that-‘, ‘but she’s so nice-‘.
You scoffed, rolling your eyes in disbelief as you followed Severus to one of the many shelves lining the class. “I am in no way trying to distract your pupils, Severus. Although if you do have an issue with my presence in your classroom, perhaps next time you need your potions ingredients you should retrieve them yourself”, you shot back, earning a deathly glare from the potions master in return as he snatched the remaining jars from your grasp. But he didn’t say anything, no harsh retort. It was probably because he knew you had a point.
‘It’s like watching an angel and a demon trying to have a conversation, or like an overgrown bat and a princess’.
You were unsure which one of the students it had been to think this, but you had to bite your lip harshly, a giggle threatening to bubble up your throat and fill the silent classroom. Snape quirked a brow at you’re sudden amusement and asked, “Amused are we?”.
“No, no, no, Severus”, you attempted to silence the laugh that was tickling the back of your throat.
There was a moment of silence as he glanced over your features, before he uttered, “get out of my classroom”. Though his words held no hostility, they did carry a strong unamused tone.
As you left, you muttered under your breath, “A simple thank you would have been nice”, rounding the corner and disappearing out of site from the potions master, happy to be leaving the dank dungeons.
 
But you would be back there.
 
Less than twenty-four hours later.
 
You sat on a stool in Snape’s classroom on the chilly Saturday afternoon, Severus paced in front of you with folded arms, his gaze once again so intense it made you want to curl in on yourself. You hated it. You hated yourself for allowing him to make you feel that way. You felt like he was peering into your very soul, and your ‘lesson’ hadn’t even started yet.
“I shall attempt to penetrate your mind. And you shall attempt to stop me”, he instructed sharply and clearly, making you feel as though you were back at school again. “We shall start with the basics and build up your resistance from there”.
You couldn’t deny the tension that hung in the air, it feeling so thick that it was almost suffocating.
“Okay”, you say, preparing yourself.
Occlumency was easy in theory, yet putting it to practice was a completely different matter.
Snape came to a stop in front of you as he pulled his wand from the inner pocket of his robes and pointed it in your direction. You felt your throat go dry and your pulse rise. For the first time since you had entered his classroom, the two of you locked eyes.
You felt like a deer in headlights.
Like a lamb come face to face with a wolf.
 Like standing on the edge of a precipice before the fall...
“Legilimens”
Snape felt everything. Your fear and anxiety. The chill against your skin from the colds of the dungeon. How his eyes on you made you feel as though you were made of glass and he was staring straight through you.
You attempted to go numb. Letting go of everything. Pretending that none of those feelings existed. Embracing the cold and allowing yourself to take a breath... Relax.
Snape finally withdrew.
You took a moment to compose yourself, feeling a little self conscious and embarrassed.
Severus’ gaze flickered from you to the floor then back to you, his features expressionless.
You both remained silent until he finally spoke. “You were too slow to respond. You have to be quicker. You must shut off everything immediately”.
“I know”, you sighed, wrapping your arms around yourself, more for comfort than warmth.
“Again”, Snape ordered before once again casting his spell.
“Legilimens”
He felt the twinge of embarrassment you now felt, the chill of your skin, before you  managed to shut him out.
“Quicker!”, he snapped, making you feel like a child being scolded by their teacher and causing a searing anger to begin simmering within you.
Once again, Snape invaded your mind.
“Growing a little frustrated are we?”, he taunted but you chose to ignore his comment, instead focusing on pushing your emotions down, burying them deep within you.
You focused on your heart rate and took a deep breath in, allowing your mind to go empty. You closed your eyes and pictured nothing, letting the empty blackness  consume your vision. Slowly you released your breath, feeling your heart beat beneath your chest at a steady pace.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
As you slowly opened your eyes, your line of sight instantly connected with Severus’ once more. You wondered what lay beneath the dark depths of his eyes. You had to admit, despite his awful personality, you found Snape fascinating.
“Legilimens”
This time, there was nothing. You were like a void. An abyss. He couldn’t feel anything as you sat, staring at him, your defences unwavering. The only thing he could feel was the cold dungeon air against your skin.
Eventually, Snape’s posture relaxed, lowering his wand as the tension seemed to leave his shoulders. “It seems as though you can manage the basics”, he drawled, glowering down at you.
“I did tell you, I don’t struggle with the basics. I just haven’t had much practice”, you challenged him, his face unchanging. More silence followed. It seemed as though that’s all your conversations were when Snape wasn’t trying to insult you. Silence.
“Is this why you’re always so stoic?”, the question had slipped past your lips before you truly contemplated what you were asking. “Are you always making use of your Occlumency skills; completely shutting yourself off from your emotions to prevent anyone from peering into how you’re truly feeling or what you’re thinking?”, you asked, trying to quench that curiosity that brewed away in your mind as to who this man truly was; why he acted the way he did; what he thought. However, you knew you had made a mistake when Snape chose not to respond.
“I can’t say I blame you”, you added awkwardly, trying to relieve the tension. “I’m aware of what people think of me and my abilities without having to read their minds. People hate it, so I understand why you’d constantly defend yourself from me. Also I’m sure you have other reasons for using Occlumency- ...”, you added with an awkward laugh, yet he still didn’t respond. “I’m sorry, Severus”.
“Stop your rambling”, he spat back.
There was another pause before Snape unfastened his cloak, slowly stalking towards you. You felt your heart beat quicken as apprehension clenched at your stomach, fearing what he would do next, shivering in your seat slightly. With a flourish, his cloak encompassed your being, settling on your shoulders comfortably, shielding you from the cold of the dungeon and providing you with some extra warmth, Severus’ body heat still lingering in the fibres. You watched him, wide eyed and speechless at his action, feeling as though all the wind had been knocked out of your lungs.
“Don’t look at me like that”, he growled as he fastened the clasp around your neck. “It’ll be more difficult for you to focus if you’re as cold as a corpse”, he huffed before standing, and returning to his previous place.
“Thank you, Severus”, you say softly in no more than a whisper, like this small act of kindness was a secret to be kept between the two of you.
You wrapped the cloak around you a little more. You assumed it would have a distinct scent; potions ingredients or damp like the dungeons. But it didn’t smell of anything, in the same sense that whenever you arrived home, it smelt like home. Nothing else. The cloak just smelt of him. “Won’t you be cold?”, you asked gently.
Severus looked you over once again, his eyes falling from your face to your frame draped in his cloak and back, before discarding your comment completely.
“Since you seem to be able to manage the basics of protecting your emotions from a legilimency spell, we shall move on to protecting your thoughts and memories. Do as you had before. Allow your mind to go blank. Feel nothing”, Severus instructed carefully. “Legilimens”.
Flickers of the first time you had met Severus danced across the forefront of your mind. His imposing presence looming over you as he scolded you for being a liability. The feeling of shame and hurt washing over you before the vision changed.
You cringed as Severus delved deeper into your mind.
“I’m sorry”.
That familiar voice.
“I just can’t be with someone who knows my every thought”. You could feel your heart shredding at these words, once again.
“Control yourself”, you herd Snape’s words call out. You focused on them, allowing them to bring you back to the present.
You fought to focus on the memory created just moments ago, of Severus wrapping his cloak around you in order to ground yourself in the present, as you repeated his words in your mind.
‘Control yourself’.
As you continued to repeat those two words to yourself, you allowed your mind to empty. Memories attempted to flicker to the foreground, but each time you doused the memory in darkness.
Finally, Snape withdrew from your mind and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding.
“Your reaction times are slow”, he mumbled.
“I know. I’m sorry-“.
“Stop apologising and act on it instead”, he snapped while you bit your lip to silence yourself. “With more practice you’ll improve. We will gradually increase the intensity until your mind is impenetrable”, he informs you.
For the next few hours, you repeat these steps; Snape invading your mind; you block him; repeat. By the end of your session, you had actually made some progress.
Before you left, you had unfastened Snape’s cloak from around your shoulders, dusting it off of any marks you may have left on it and admiring the luxurious material as you ran your hand over it.
“It was kind of you, allowing me to borrow this, Severus. Thank you”, you say, offering it back with a bashful smile. “I promise to bring a cloak of my own next time”.
He snatched the item of clothing from you, face unchanging. “Yes, that would be best”, he replied curtly as you made your way to the door.
“Thank you again for the lesson, Severus...”, you said, waiting for the potions master to say something in response. But he didn’t... and with that you left the classroom, leaving Severus clinging to his cloak.
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afictionaladventure16 · 4 months
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Please tell me this isn’t how this ends
Potions Partners (Part 20)
Pairing: Draco Malfoy + Fem!reader
Word count: 2349
Warnings: fire, dying, death, battle of hogwarts
Hey! If you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.
The final part
Requests are open
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“That’s my girlfriend, dumb bitch!” Ron runs after Draco, Blaise and Goyle. Y/N bursts into the Room of Requirement and she looks for her brother. She finds him climbing a group of chairs, and she sees the diadem on top of the hill of objects. She climbs it from the other side, hoping to help her brother. 
The mountain of items is unstable and she can hear Harry knock down a few things while she manoeuvres through them. Hermione starts climbing too. A group of Pixies storm the place, disorienting her a bit, but she manages to hold onto one of the chairs. “I’ve got it!” 
After Harry’s shout, she climbs back down and spins around till she’s next to Harry and Hermione. She hears Ron start screaming and she waits for him to appear. A large, bright orange colour appears from behind him as Ron runs. He grabs Hermione’s hand and they start running in the opposite direction, he screams, “Goyle set the bloody place on fire!” 
Harry grabs Y/N’s hand and starts running after Ron and Hermione. A large fiery snape moves after them, surrounding them from every direction. They run as fast as they could, but the fire catches on to them. Harry knocks down a large mountain of items and they stop the fire for a second before it starts again. 
The fire engulfs the room from all directions, leading them to all meet at the centre of it. All pathways were blocked and the fire was nearing them. Y/N’s grip on Harry’s hand tightened. A block of flame gets shot at them and Y/N blocks the spell with a shielding field. 
The field knocks Ron down and he hits three broomsticks. He throws one to each of them and Hermione rides behind Ron. They climb them quickly and they take to the sky. Y/N hears a scream, and she shouts, “Who else is here?” 
“No one, just Malfoy and his gits.” Harry answers, not understanding the implications of his words. Y/N perks up at the mention of his name and she says, “Draco’s here?” 
She turns around on her broom quickly and she looks around the room trying to find them. She can hear Ron shout from behind her, telling her that she’s insane. She sees Blaise and Draco on a mountain of stuff that is getting engulfed by the fire by the second. 
Blaise’s grip on the chair he’s holding onto is loosened and he starts to fall. Y/N moves quicker and grabs his hand before he can get killed by the fire. Blaise sits down behind her and Draco was about to fall before Harry got to him and he saved him. 
They turn around to exit the room and the flames are getting closer and closer to the ceiling. If any of them lowered their legs a bit more, their feet would get burned by the flames. They turn around and quickly start moving. Ron shouts at her, “If we die for them Y/N, I’m going to kill you!” 
“I’ll be dead anyway, so you can do whatever you like!” she shouts back at him, and she leans down, making her broom move faster. They dodge the falling objects and the flames, expertly. The perks of having three members of the Gryffindor Quidditch teams, flying the brooms. 
The doors of the room are open wide and they all move out. The strength of the flames pushes them all off their brooms and onto the ground. While falling Blaise falls on top of her and it takes them a moment to regain their focus. He lifts himself a tiny bit up and says, “thank you for saving me.” 
“It was nothing really.” she says, while he’s still on top of her. Blaise shots her a smile, and someone clears their throat from beside them. She looks to find Harry, Ron and Draco lined up next to each other shooting daggers at Blaise. He quickly climbs off of her and he runs away. 
Draco’s the first one to help her up. He pulls her up by her arms, using enough strength to pull her straight to his chest when she’s on her feet. He wraps one arm around her waist and the other cups her face. He whispers, “Are you okay?” 
“I should be asking you that.” she says, and he gets an odd sense of deja-vu. She smiles as she looks at him, but the moment gets interrupted by Harry falling to the ground. She runs to her brother and she feels a sting herself. 
Harry’s eyes turn red then he starts withering on the ground. His eyes turn green again and she waits for him to regain his scenes. He starts gasping and he looks at her and says, “It’s the snake, the last horcrux is the snake.” 
She nods her head in understanding. Harry stands up and she says, “I’ll go kill it.” 
“No, you can’t.” Draco blurts out quickly and Harry looks at him disgustedly with his top lip quirked up from behind his sister. Draco flushes at the unwanted attention and rubs the back of his neck. He explains, “If she’s within a close distance of Nagini, she’ll die.” 
They all look at him questioningly at this new piece of information. He lifts his hand and points at himself. He chuckles nervously, “That was my fault.” 
“I’ll find out more about this later.” Y/N tells him sternly and he gives her a nervous smile. Hermione takes a step forwards and Ron mirrors her actions, holding her hand. Shooting her a smile. Hermione says, “We’ll go.” 
Harry nods his head and motions for Malfoy to follow him. Draco looks back at Y/N scared, and she pushes him towards her brother. Harry lifts one finger to motion that he’ll be borrowing Draco for a minute. They move a few steps away from Y/N and until Harry’s sure she can’t hear them. 
“You love my sister, right?” Harry says, and he gives Draco a glare. Draco nods his head and Harry continues, “There’s something I have to do, but she can’t know because she’ll stop me and get herself killed when she doesn’t need to. If you even care about her, you’ll occupy her, and stop her from finding out.” 
Harry doesn’t wait for Draco’s answer and he walks back towards Hermione and Ron. Draco walks to Y/N’s side and she gives him a weak smile that he doesn’t return. He grabs her hand, and squeezes it tightly. Harry whispers something to Ron and Hermione, and she shouts, “Hey! Aren’t I going to be told about what’s going on there?” 
Harry lifts his head from the huddle he’s in with Hermione and Ron. He gives Draco a pointed look and Draco realises. He stutters for a moment before he tugs on her hand. Draco says, “Come on, we have to go do something.” 
“I can’t leave, Harry.” She says, planting her feet firmly to the ground and she looks back at her brother and friends with a frown. Draco tugs her hand another time and he says the words he’s sure will convince her, “Your brother’s the one that asked me to do this.” 
“Okay…” she says, and she lets herself get taken away by him. He leads her to the Great Hall, and when she enters, she sees the groups of bodies laying down on the floor. Her breath hitches in her throat as she sees a group of people with red hair, surrounding something. 
She stops walking and grips his hand tighter. If any people were opposed to Draco Malfoy entering the Great Hall, they didn’t show it, noticing her hand wrapped in his. Mrs Weasley lifts her head and notices her. She can see Mrs Weasley tap on George’s shoulder. George lifts his head up and Mrs Weasley points to her. 
George sees her and he rushes to meet her. He wraps his arms around her body and her hand falls away from Draco. Draco takes a step back, giving them space. She embraces her friend in a hug, and she can feel his body shaking. 
She looks at the Weasleys to find Molly, Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Percy and Ginny. Ron’s outside with Harry which means…Tears prick her eyes at the revelation and she grips her friend tighter, “Oh, George.” 
“He’s gone, he’s gone.” George repeats, he couldn’t believe it himself. He lifts his head from her shoulder and she walks to the Weasleys. Tears stream down her face when she recognises Fred’s body, eyes closed. She grips George’s hand tighter. 
He sits down on the floor and she sinks next to him. He grips her hand like it’s his life line. He keeps on crying again and again until his eyes dry out. Y/N tries to keep her tears at bay, trying to be strong enough for the both of them. Despite that, a few stray tears fall from time to time. 
After some time, the doors of the Great Hall open to reveal two corpses being carried. Y/N turned to see who it was, but George grabbed her shoulder, bringing her attention to him. George said, “Don’t.” 
She pushes her hand away and stands up to move to where they set the corpses, and she brings a hand to her mouth as soon as she sees who it is. She starts sobbing as she falls to her knees. In a second, Draco falls beside her, holding her to his chest. 
She continues sobbing as she looks at the familiar sight of her god-father on the ground beside his wife, their hands reaching out for each other. All she could think about was poor Teddy, suffering from the same fate she had faced when she was young. Parents killed by Voldemort. 
She makes her decision right then and there. Draco moves her gaze away from Remus Lupin’s body and hides her face in his chest. She sobs into his chest and he smooths his hand over head. She holds his shirt and tugs it down.  
It all happened so quickly after that. Her body falls limp and her eyes turn red. She falls to the ground and she starts withering in Draco’s arms. She could faintly hear Draco’s distant voice, distressed, calling out for help. 
The memories flashed through her brain. She sees Remus, Sirius, her mom and dad. She sees Harry talking to them all, and then she sees herself walking to Woldemort and she hears Voldemort’s snake-like voice say, “Harry Potter, the boy who lived come to die.” 
Panic courses through her veins before she sees a flash of green and then her vision gets cut off. She gasps and her chest heaves as she regains her senses. Madame Pomfrey standing above her with Draco and the rest of the Weasleys. She sits up quickly and she screams, “Harry!” 
She doesn’t waste a second before standing up. She recognised the place as the forbidden forest, if she got there in time she could stop whatever was happening from happening. Draco stands up just as fast as she does, but she becomes disoriented. Draco holds her up as she feels more dizzy. Draco says, “You should sit down.” 
“No, no…I need to get to Harry.” she says, weakly fighting against his grip that’s trying to set her down on the floor, making sure her dizziness doesn’t make her fall herself. A flash of white covers her vision and she sees Dumbledore from afar, and when she regains her senses again, she sobs. 
It is unmistakable, Harry’s dead. Voldemort’s words, the flash of green. The white and then finally Dumbledore. She sobs and Draco asks her, “What’s wrong?” 
She looks around to find several people looking around. They were still in the middle of a war. They needed to defeat Voldemort for everyone that died, and for Harry. She couldn’t tell them, it would demolish all hopes of a victory. She leans down and whispers in his ear, “Harry’s dead.” 
His eyes widen and she starts crying again. He holds her tightly against his chest, and Mrs Weasley starts to pat her head, sympathetically, assuming she was crying over the death of Remus. She shuts her eyes and hears the voice of Narcissa. Narcissa wasn’t dead, Voldemort wouldn’t kill her, unless…unless Harry’s alive. 
She stands up once again, and this time she doesn’t feel dizzy. She sees Hagrid walking along with Voldemort, heading towards the castle. She moves out of the Great Hall and a group of people follow her outside. She goes to the courtyard and surely enough, Voldemort and what’s left of his army are coming towards them while Hagrid is carrying Harry in his large arms. 
“Harry Potter is dead!” Voldemort shouts and Ginny screams as she rushes towards him, but Mr Weasley holds her back. Y/N holds Draco’s hand, and he pushes her back behind him a bit when he notices Nagini staring at her, slithering around Voldemort. The Death Eaters laughed.  
“From this day forth, you put your faith in me. Now is the time to declare yourself, come forth and join us…or die.” Voldemort says as he looks around at the Hogwarts students all looking beaten and broken. Lucius and Narcissa, standing near Voldemort, urge him to come forward. 
Y/N squeezes his hand and he looks at her then at his parents. They start calling his name, but his feet stay firmly planted. Voldemort watches the interaction with interest, and he looks at Draco, then says, “Draco?” 
He doesn’t move and he squeezes her hand tightly. Voldemort sighs, disappointed and he looks at Dolhov to his right and he orders, “Kill him.” 
Dolhov raises his wand, taking Draco’s wand out of his own. Then he fires the killing spell, and Narcissa protests, but the spell was already shot. Draco’s eyes widened, and he was quickly pushed out of the way. Draco screams, “No!” 
Y/N falls to the ground, the spell hitting her right in her chest. The last thing she heard was Ginny shouting out her brother’s name and some cheers. 
@urbansaint @love-me-satoru @callsignwidow @angelofasgard16
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afictionaladventure16 · 4 months
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Potions Partner (Part five)
pairing: Draco Malfoy + fem!reader
word count: 1239
Summary: Draco goes to visit the Malfoy Manor
Warnings: Voldemort, and kinda invasion of privacy and slight aggression? idek anymore
requests are open
Part six
my masterlist where you can find all of the parts available for this series
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The Malfoy manor was never a homely place. The walls were marble and green. It was large, and always cold even in the middle of summer. It was gloomy because his father never let them open the curtains. It was as if he hated the sun, the sunshine and the happiness that was associated with it.
The place only got more miserable when the Dark Lord decided that it was where he was going to stay after Draco’s fourth year. When Lucius went to Azkaban, the Dark Lord lost one of his Death eaters, and who better to replace him than his son? 
The day he got the mark, he spent the rest of the day in muggle London far away from the manor. He wasn’t able to think from the sharp searing pain in his arm. When he came back at night, the dark lord had ordered his mother to tell him what his task was. 
She was crying when she told him, she told him he had to kill Dumbledore and help the death eaters invade Hogwarts. He started to cry too when she told him that the dark lord would kill her if he didn’t. He could tell she wasn’t crying for the possibility in her future, but rather for him, it made him cry more.
When he reached the Manor after using the floo network in Snape’s office, he called out for his mother. She walked to him in a beautiful dress, looking fine, but she still never looked the same as she did before. She walked to him angrily, and his eyes widened. She wasn’t sick, she just wanted to shout at him. 
“You idiot!” she said, and flicked his forehead with her pointer and thumb. He held his forehead because of the tiny pinch, face comforting in pain at the tiny sting. She grabbed his arm and led him to the kitchen. She locked the door behind them and said, “Out of every single girl in Hogwarts!” 
He paled, and his eyes widened. He started to fumble with his words, “Well, I- she’s-” His mother lifts her pointer finger to her lips, effectively silencing him. She purses her lips and says, “The Dark Lord wants to meet with you, that’s why you’re here.” 
If possible, he pales even more, and his eyes widen. There’s a sharp knock on the kitchen door and outside Amycus Carrow is shouting, “Malfoy! The Dark Lord awaits you, don’t leave him waiting for too long.” 
He gave his mother a kiss on her head, giving her a false reassuring smile. He unlocked the door and Amycus was standing there with a vicious grin on his face. Behind Amycus, his sister, Alecto was standing with a similar expression. “Amycus, Alecto.” He greeted with a voice steadier than how he felt. 
“You know where to find him.” Alecto said in her sickening voice, and her grin widened. He walked into the dark halfway, and at the end of there was a door. The dark lord had claimed that room, the first day he came here. His hands were shaking as he opened the door. 
“My lord.” He said and bowed as soon as he entered. He felt disgusted with himself. “Close the door behind you, Draco.” he hissed, and Draco immediately shut the door. The dark lord walks closer to him and smiles, showing his dirty teeth. 
“Give me a hug, friend.” The dark lord said, his red eyes shining as he opened his arms. Draco walked carefully towards him and he wrapped his arms around him. It was an uncommon occurrence for the dark lord to do this. When he pulled away, He gave Draco a smile that left him unnerved. Draco tried to take a step away, knowing how much the Dark Lord hated people invading his personal space for too long. 
In a second, before Draco could move, the Dark Lord slammed his palm to Draco’s forehead, and Draco’s memories were shown to both of them. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, completely as if he was trying to look at the inside of his brain. 
Flashes of him seeing the Vanishing cabinet for the first time, him concealing his dark mark. Professor Slughorn pairing him and Y/N together. Him and Y/N kissing, and then the room of requirement again. Him holding Y/N’s hand during Potions class. His mother flicking his forehead. 
The memories stopped and his vision re-centered on the Dark Lord as his eyeballs rolled back to the front. Draco’s thoughts ran everywhere, and he couldn’t believe how foolish he was to not know that the Dark Lord can access his memories. The Dark Lord hums, “It’s good to know that you’re doing well with your first task, but it’s a shame you haven’t started on the second one.” 
“I will, I haven’t been able to find a way.” Draco replied quickly, not wanting to anger him. He was surprised that he hadn't mentioned Y/N after seeing his memories. The Dark Lord says, “Your mother will help you with that.” 
Draco nods his head, he didn’t want to involve his mother in this, but if he defied the Dark Lord then she’d die. Damn his father for being reckless, getting caught and going to Azkaban. He was about to bow and leave when The Dark Lord began, “As for the Potter girl…” 
“You’ve had feelings for her for a while.” He says, and Draco stills, and the Dark Lord grins, wickedly at the confirmation of his statement, “I know how we can make use of that- get information from her about Dumbledore and about the Potter boy.” 
Draco says nothing, but nods, his eyes glued to the floor. The Dark Lord lifts his hand pointing to the door. Draco bows and places his hand on the doorknob twisting it open. When he’s nearly outside, the Dark Lord says, “One last thing Draco, if you fail, she dies too…see you at Christmas.” 
Draco nods his head once again and exits the room. He heads out of the hallway with a neutral expression on his face. The other death eaters are looking at him, wondering what the Dark Lord wanted from him. He ignored them all, focusing on getting to his room. His expression displayed elegance and poise, but if anybody looked closer, they would see the way his hand was shaking and the way his eyes were brimming with tears. 
He feld up the facade as he climbed the stairs and headed to his room. He closes the door, does the silencing spell, and he starts to sob. 
He sinks beside his bed, and he presses his hands to his face. His bathroom door opened and his mother came inside. She knew him too well. She sank to the floor beside him and pulled him into a hug. “He’ll kill her too.” he explained
Narcissa felt her heart break for her son, and she smoothed his hair in order to calm her down. Draco stayed in the manor for two more days, and when it was time for him to leave Narcissa gave him her necklace. They planned that it’ll be given to Dumbledore and it’ll be cursed.  
Taglist: @angelofasgard16
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afictionaladventure16 · 4 months
Text
Potions Partner (Part four)
pairing: Draco Malfoy + fem!reader
word count: 2494
Warnings: none I think but lmk
masterlist
Part five
Requests are open
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Professor Slughorn apparently liked a change of scenery every once in a while because he had changed the order of the seats again. Same partners, just a different desk arrangement. Draco was already sitting at the desk at the far end of the class in the back. 
She walked in with Harry, Ron and Hermione. Harry looked at Draco, curiously, and then he gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. She gave him an appreciative smile. Draco didn’t even look at them as they entered the class. 
A part of her was terrified that he was just messing with her back in the prefect’s bathroom because why else would he take the sudden interest in her? Why would he start being nice to her after years of being cruel and mean? She took a deep breath in and walked to the back of the classroom. 
He did even look up as she sat down, he was writing something in a notebook that he had. It’s not like she expected him to pull her in with a kiss as a way of greeting, but he could at least look at her. She bit the inside of her cheek, and she brought out her book and parchment roll. This was a theoretical class which explained the change in the desk arrangement, and the lack of cauldrons on their desks.  
Halfway through the class, he placed his hand on his forehead and started to grimace. She noticed and tore a piece of her parchment roll to write, ‘are you okay?’. She flipped it over and slid it to him until her hand hit his own. 
He noticed the paper when their hands brushed. He quickly took his hand far away from her, and she tried not to visibly deflate. He read the paper and he wrote something then left it in front of him, not bothering to even slide it to her. ‘Fine’. 
She bit her lip, and looked away from him. She didn’t know why she expected anything else from him after all he has hated her for six years now, why would he stop? She concluded that he only kissed her for the sake of kissing someone. Boys were hormonal creatures after all. He could’ve been messing with her too, just to have a story to tell his cruel Slytherin friends in the common room.
She placed her head on her palm and left her left hand on her lap. She didn’t look at him for the next few minutes, she looked at the clock and realised that there was still an hour and a half till class ended. She inwardly groaned at having to spend more time with him like this. 
Hermione was, as always, right for what she thought. How could she have ever possibly thought that anything that could happen between them was a good idea? She even sent his father to Azkaban last year with her brother, this was his way of getting revenge. His family was working for Voldemort. He used her. How could she possibly think that Draco Malfoy could be anything less than vile and cruel and-
He brushed their hands under the table. It interrupted her train of thought, her heart was brought to a stop. She looked at her lap to find that Draco was intertwining their hands. He pulled their hands to his thigh and then he continued writing the assignment as if he didn’t just take her breath away by simply holding her hand. 
She couldn’t focus on anything else, but him. A few seconds later, he looked around to see if anyone was looking, then he brought her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss there. She hated how quickly the pent up anger faded away at the intimate action. She blushed and looked away again. 
Halfway through the lesson, he started to rub circles on her hand with his thumb. It seemed that every circle he made caused more butterflies to erupt in her stomach. Professor Slughorn gave them a five minute break which was very refreshing after not having any breaks from potions for the past five years. 
The class was filled with loud chattering, and she looked to find that Harry was looking at that potion’s book of his that he seemed obsessed with lately. Hermione’s partner had fallen asleep beside her, so she chatted with Ron who was in the desk behind her, next to Harry. 
“I had a headache, that’s all.” Draco whispered, right next to her ear. She was startled by the sound of his voice, and she looked around to find that everyone was busy chatting with someone else. She nodded, and looked at their intertwined hands. She noticed that he had a green ring on his hand, more specifically on his pinky. 
“That’s a cool ring.” she whispers back pointing with her free hand on his pinky. He looks at where she was pointing and says, “yeah, my mom gave it to me when I was five, it doesn’t fit anymore, but I still keep it.” 
“I didn’t realise Draco Malfoy was a mama’s boy.” She teased and he gave her a glare that caused her to let out a tiny chuckle. He pressed another kiss to the back of her hand, telling her that he wasn’t actually mad. 
“Look,” he says, and he breaks their hands apart and takes the ring off his finger. He shows her the inside of it, and it has his name engraved inside in a silver colour. She tilts her head to get a better look at it then she smiles, and says, “Cute.” 
When he comes to put it back on, he places it on her ring left finger, and she looks at him confused. When it’s placed on her finger, he connects their hands once again, then says, “I’m not proposing or anything, I just want you to have it.”
“I can’t have this, your mom gave it to you.” She says, trying to pull their hands apart to take it off. He grips her hand tighter, and says, “I want you to have it, besides it doesn’t fit anymore, and it fits perfectly in your hand.” 
“Alright, break’s over.” Professor Slughorn announces, and she notices that his walk is a bit wobbly. She realises that the break wasn’t for them, but rather for him to get a drink. The chatter dies down and everyone returns to their seats. 
Draco presses a kiss to her hand again, but this time it’s on the ring rather than just at the back of her hand. It makes her blush, and he grins at her flustered state. She realises that kissing her hand will not be a habit that he will form. He goes back to writing in his notebook with their hands on his thigh. 
She smiles, and faces the front of the class to pay attention to the lesson. She finds that Hermione was looking at her with a frown on her face, she must’ve seen their interaction. Before she could give Hermione some reaction, Hermione turns around to face Professor Slughorn. 
Y/N purses her lips, and keeps reading her book. The rest of the class all she could think about was how Hermione would be disappointed or mad, maybe she wouldn’t even want to be her friend anymore. 
The bell rang and everyone started to pack up their stuff. Professor Slughorn wobbled into his office, hitting a few desks on his way inside. Harry already stood up and called out, “Hey, Y/N come on!” 
She was about to stand up when Draco gripped her hand tightly, causing her to abruptly fall back down on her seat and she said, “Um, uh I’ll meet you outside, I still need to pack my stuff.” 
Hermione gave her a disapproving look and she walked outside the classroom. This was exactly what she didn’t want, lying to her friends and her brother. Once everyone had cleared out, she stood up and turned to Draco who was still holding her hand. She asks, “what is it?” 
“Nothing, I just wanted to do this.” Draco said, and then pulled her by their intertwined hands to his chest. He cupped her face and planted a kiss on her lips. It was a quick one, but still enough to make her heart beat go insane. “I’ll see you later.” He said, then left the class. 
She smiled as she watched him leave. She was smitten with him, and it's driving her insane. She slung her bag over her shoulder, and then she walked out of class. Harry and Ron weren’t waiting for her, but she found Hermione resting against the wall. 
“You think he’ll let me be your bride’s maid.” Hermione said, and Y/N was taken aback by the weird question. Hermione pointed to her hand, and she noticed the ring. Y/N’s quick to explain with a blush, “It’s nothing like that, it’s just a gift.” 
“He hates us.” Hermione said with her arms folded. “He treats Ron like trash, and he fights with Harry all the time, and he calls me a-” Her voice cracks, and Y/N walks to her and she gives her friend a hug. After Hermione’s breathing stabilises, she breaks the hug.
“Hermione, I’m so sorry. Trust me, I think about how wrong this can go, but I-” she cuts herself off, and she takes a deep breath. “I really think he cares.” She continues, and then she cracks a weak smile, “and if he ever annoys me, you can punch him again. You liked it last time.” 
Hermione lets out a chuckle, and she purses her lips, “Just be careful, okay?” Y/N nods and then loops their arms together. They walk to the Great Hall where lunch is about to start. That’s probably where Harry and Ron were, knowing Ron, he probably wouldn’t be able to wait for food.
They reach the Great Hall, and by then lunch has started. Ron’s already munching down on some food, and Harry’s holding his potions book to his chest as he eats some rice. She asks her brother, “Do you sleep with that book too?” 
“He does.” Ron answered for him and Harry gave him a glare. The girls chuckle and start to eat as well. Halfway through dinner. Professor Snape enters the Great Hall quickly, and he walks to the Slytherin table. They watch him in interest. 
Snape walks to Draco, and he tells him something. Draco stands up quickly, tells Nott something then follows Snape out of the Great Hall. Whispers erupt in the Great Hall about what just happened. “What was that about?” Hermione asks in a low voice. 
“Death eater meeting most likely.” Harry says, and Y/N scoffs, “He’s not a death eater.” Harry looks at her with his eyebrow quirked. “He’s a Malfoy, I bet if we pulled up his sleeve we’d see the dark mark.” 
“I do think it’s rather odd for Voldemort to recruit sixteen year olds that are still under Dumbledore’s watch, Harry.” Hermione said, helpfully. She was grateful that Hermione interrupted her because she might’ve said something that would have aroused suspicions. 
After Hermione’s words the conversation was dropped for the rest of lunch. Harry and Ron had divination while Hermione had arithmancy. Y/N had a free period which she was going to spend outside by the black lake, but first she wanted to walk Ron and Harry to the Divination classroom. 
They were about to enter the class when Theodore Nott stopped them by saying, “Potter.” Harry’s face turned into a frown and Ron copied his reaction. She was just confused at what he was doing talking to Harry. Harry walked closer to him, and then Nott lifted his hand up in a stop, “The other Potter.” 
Harry and Ron looked between them in confusion, and she felt the same way. Theodore motions for her to follow him with his head, she follows him. Harry grabs her wrist to put her walking to a stop and when Nott hears her footsteps stop, he turns around to look at them. Harry says, “Whatever you can say to her, you can say to me too.” 
“No.” Nott says, firmly, and he continues, “I want to speak to her alone.” Her face comforts into confusion and Harry drops her wrist. Ron whispers in her ear, “If he causes you any trouble just raise three fingers and I’ll hex him.” 
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary, but okay…” she trailed off and she walked towards Nott who was waiting patiently a few feet away, leaning against the wall. He shoots a glare behind her and She sees Harry and Ron reciprocating the exact look. Both of them were so protective. 
Once she reached him, he said, “His mom’s sick, that’s why he’s gone. He’ll be back in a few days.” 
She looks around, nervously to see if anyone heard. Understanding just who he was talking about. She fiddles with her fingers, and lets out a nervous chuckle, “Why would I care?” 
“Please, he can’t keep a single thing from me. He's not a very good secret keeper. I’m just glad he finally did something about it, it took him long enough.” He says, casually, and he rolls his eyes at the end of the statement. “He told me to tell you before he left.” 
Nott didn’t say anything else before he turned around and left. It didn’t give her a chance to further inquire about his words. She walked back to her brother and friend and Harry didn't wait a second before asking, “What was that about?” 
“He’s just saying that Slytherin will beat us in Quidditch this year.” She says, proud of thinking of an excuse fast enough. Harry mumbles something then folds his arms. Ron asks, confused, “Isn’t that more of a Harry thing?” 
“Not really, we’re both chasers.” She replied, hoping that it sounds convincing, thankfully they didn’t ask anymore questions. They both walk into the classroom, and she waves to them. They already know that she’ll be out by the black lake, so they’ll meet up with her there after. 
She walks outside the castle while she’s twisting her new piece of jewelry around her finger with a smile on her face. Draco actually liked her, he wasn’t just using her. Nott’s words rang inside her head, “I’m just glad he finally did something about it, it took him long enough.” 
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