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onbeinganangel · 3 years

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hello! question for a rainy day. what are your top five favorite fics you've ever written? why?

hello my evil little darling, brightest star in the sky 🌟 you know exactly what you’re doing with this question and i hate you so much for it, thank you xxxxx

1. [redacted fic I can’t talk about as well you know, you terrible, terrible human being]

seriously though, even without that this is such a tough question buuuuut in chronological order we have:

1. Forever Yours/Yours Forever (wolfstar, M, 2.8k) — This was the first thing I ever posted on ao3 and it’s a very Mari brand of angst imo! At the point I posted this I think I had finished writing Inevitable but was too scared to post something that long and I had also finished taught by thirst and wanted something angstier and less spicy to balance it all out. I wrote it in one sitting and I’m still really proud of the post-Azkaban Sirius voice that I wrote for it. My feelings and thoughts on the Harry Potter series have shifted a lot in the past few years for a lot of reasons, but Sirius has always been a character I really love and I think even in canon his story is so so heartbreaking and he’s truly one of those characters you wish you could wrap up in a blanket and protect (shit just keeps happening to this man, like, give him a break) and I really enjoy writing his POV.

2. taught by thirst (jeddy, E, 6k) — I wrote taught by thirst for Sudsfest 2020, which was my first fest, so that makes it really, really special in my eyes. I didn’t know a lot of people back then, I was mostly still lurking and I was super nervous about it, but really wanted to go for it. I immediately fell in love with the prompt that inspired it, but I told myself to wait a couple of days (convinced the prompt was so good someone else would take it) and if no one took it, I’d claim it. And there it was, waiting for me when I went to check days later, so I no longer had any excuse not to write it. The prompt also came with a really good choice of pairings and I think I was a bit nervous about writing Drarry and just thought why not try my hand at a little bit of Jeddy? I think it’s a really fun piece and I do like a devious Teddy (I mean, come on, he is Tonks’ AND Remus’ kid, the boy is TROUBLE!!!) and I think there’s a really good balance of smut and sweetness and mischief in it.

3. Inevitable (From the Very Start) (drarry, 54k) — Lord, I’m sorry, I AM going to talk about it again. You did ask, though. I started writing Inevitable sometime… last summer? I don’t know? And I was… not doing so hot back then. This is truly one of those “I want to read a fic about X” and then you blink and you’re suddenly writing a fic about X. I keep describing Inevitable as my ultimate horcrux — I think everything you write or create ends up having a little bit of you in it whether you want it or not, but I am convinced Inevitable may have a little bit more of my soul in it than your average piece lol. I don’t like re-reading it because I feel like I’d write it really differently now but I still love it a lot. It’s Drarry in their 40s just… navigating life and really settling. You’ve got a neurotic widower Draco carrying a fuckton of grief and anxiety with him wherever he goes and you’ve got a no-fucks-given go-with-the-flow divorcee Harry just completely arse over tit for Draco. There are some big angsty/dramatic moments in it, but I feel like it’s all very slice of life, falling in love, lives melding together with all there is to them (friends, children, devious ex-wife, dead wife, jobs, dreams, etc).

4. Petrichor, Pineapple and Pomegranate (wolfstarbucks, E, 6k) — What’s a girl to do if she really loves triads and Wolfstar but also has a soft spot for Prongsfoot? Write. This. Fic. I’m going to be honest, I don’t even remember how my Year Of The Threesome Series idea came to be anymore (other than I was affectionately bullied into it by some people) and I don’t know how I decided that this would be the first one but it just happened. I wrote most of it in one day, it has one of my favourite passages/paragraphs I have ever written in it, I got to indulge in some scent kink and I got to write three best friends just banging it out. What’s not to like?

5. heavy (drarry, E, 6k) — Right. This one. Good afternoon from the most self indulgent shit I have ever written. Truly. heavy is the last of my Kinkuary series which proceeded to kill my ability to write while also teaching me that I am capable of so much more than I could have ever imagined. I’d saved the drarry pairing for last because they’re my favourite and tbh it seemed like a lot of pressure. There are already so many good kinky Drarry fics out there and I was so intimidated by the idea — so many of my favourite fic writers write mostly/exclusively Drarry and it was honestly daunting to even think about it. So I ignored it and wrote all the other filthy rarepairs like there wasn’t a massively scary thing waiting for me at the end like a sour middle to a delicious sweet. What ended up happening was that I was so fucking exhausted when I got to the end of Kinkuary that I went ‘fuck it.’

(Where’s that ‘I’m gonna give [me] everything [I] want’ or that ‘I’m gonna create a [fic] that is so [self-indulgent]’ meme when I need it? Lmao)

All through February, I kept a list of possible kinks to write for it since the last day didn't have a prompt/was a wildcard, and when I got to it I just... wrote a fuckton of them all into the same fic just because I wanted to!

In the end, I wrote the scary kink I’d wanted to write for ages, I wrote drarry falling in love through little snippets of smut packed with a ton of subtext and feeling and I was just really pleased that I put together this porn soup I would have never have put together in any other context.

And there you have it. I will change my mind again in 0.3 seconds but right now those are my favourite 5 fics I've written! Thank you for coming into my house and forcing me to pick my favourite puppies out of the litter lol

#m babbles #m writes

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magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics · 4 years

Text

Baghdad gone wrong - Request

Request: @green-spotlight I was wondering if you could do a Sherlock x wife! reader one? Where, instead of Mary jumping in front of Sherlock, Reader does, but she survives

Word count: No idea, but it’s long.

Warnings: (Y/N) gets shot.

A/N: HI! Long time no see. I know I always say I’ll come back and then I disappear but it’s just because I need a job and I have to look for it and bla bla bla. Anyway, here it is. This one is fresh, it’s the first fics I’ve written in months (the past ones were kept in my drafts) so I hope you like it and I hope I’m not too rusty for this.

Enjoy!

The London aquarium was quite a flabbergasting experience to anyone who visited. The big tanks filled with different fish, the blue illumination, and the distinctive smell of chlorine made it a rather peaceful place to meditate.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Aquarium will be closing in five minutes. Please make your way to the exit. Thank you.” The voice from the tannoy announced.

Sherlock ignored it and kept going onward along the blue-lit corridors, through the glass tunnels, up until an area with benches for people to sit. There, a lonely woman sat tranquilly.

“Your office said I’d find you here,” he said.

“This was always my favourite spot for agents to meet,” the woman replied. “We’re like them; ghostly, living in the shadows.”

She finally looked at him.

“Predatory,” Sherlock granted.

“Well, it depends which side you’re on.” She turned away to look into the shark thank again. “Also, we have to keep moving or we die.”

“Nice location for the final act. Couldn’t have chosen it better myself. But then I never could resist a touch of the dramatic.” Sherlock cocked his eyebrow, rejoicing in his own skin.

“I just come here to look at the fish,” the secretary said.

How dull she was, how boring. Sherlock was starting to get sick just by the mere existence of that woman. It was obvious to him what was going on, and yet there was no one else to show it off to. Where were his companions? He had texted them not longer than five minutes ago the exact location and they weren’t there just yet.

“I knew this would happen one day,” the secretary continued. She stood up and took a few steps closer to the tank. “It’s like that old story,” she said. She turned to face him.

She was small, just small. She was not a beautiful woman and evidently never had been, she was poorly-dressed, and her whole body expressed how small she was and felt.

It was no wonder to Sherlock why she had done it. She was a nobody, always had been and always would be. She worked for a powerful, beautiful woman who was a constant reminder of how insignificant she was. Of course, she had done it.

“I am a very busy man. Would you mind cutting to the chase?” Sherlock insisted. A rush inside of him needed the whole thing to end quickly.

“You’re very sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“With good reason,” Sherlock said precisely. “Unlike you,” he thought.

“There was once a merchant in fa famous market in Baghdad…” The woman started.

Sherlock closed his eyes and lowered his head. It was that bloody story again. What was it with people liking it? Perhaps it was the fact that nobody wants to be entirely responsible for their acts and decide to call them upon fate, or just that dumb believing of superior power. In any case, Sherlock was sick of it.

“I really have never liked this story” he sentenced.

“I’m just like the merchant in the story. I thought I could outrun the inevitable. I’ve always been looking over my shoulder; always expecting to see the grim figure of…”

“Death.” A third voice completed.

(Y/N).

The rush inside Sherlock increased its intensity. She wasn’t supposed to be there, John and Mary were but not her.

She entered the room and stopped a couple of feet away from Sherlock’s side.

“Hello, love,” Sherlock greeted without looking at her.

“Hey,” she greeted back.

“John?”

“On his way,” (Y/N) replied.

“Mary?”

“On her way.” Sherlock shrugged and attempted no to look scattered. She was not supposed to be there. “Who am I looking at?”

“Let me introduce Amo.”

(Y/N) opened her eyes widely. She knew all about that time, Mary had told her just before escaping to try and fix things.

“I can’t say I’m impressed,” (Y/N) said. Sherlock chuckled at the thought of how obvious it was, feeling good that his partner had caught it too. “So you were Amo? You were that voice on the phone?”

“Using AGRA as her private assassination unit,” Sherlock completed.

“Why did you betray them?” (Y/N) grunted. She could be too emotional sometimes. “Do you know what you caused? The people you hurt? Do you know how that ended? WHY DID YOU BETRAY THEM?”

“Why does anyone do anything?” The secretary asked, knowing well what she had done. She didn’t seem to regret a single thing.

(Y/N) was fuming, Sherlock could hear her breathing and was getting ready to stop her in case she tried to punch the secretary.

“Let me guess,” he said in an attempt to control the room. “Selling secrets?”

“Well, it would be churlish to refuse,” the secretary admitted and Sherlock couldn’t blame her. “Worked very well for a few years. I bought a nice cottage in Cornwall on the back of it. But the ambassador in Tbilisi found out. I thought I’d had it.” She looked towards (Y/N) before returning her gaze to Sherlock. “Then she was taken hostage in that coup,” she laughed. “I couldn’t believe my luck! That bought me a little time.”

“But then you found out your boss had sent AGRA in,” Sherlock stated. He finally had an audience to show off with.

“Very handy,” the woman replied in a bitter tone. “They were always such reliable killers.”

“What you didn’t know, (Y/N), was that this one also tipped off the hostage-takers,” Sherlock explained to (Y/N). “Actually,” he said, “I don’t think Mary knows that either.”

The secretary sat back down and rested her handbag on her lap.

“Lady Smallwood gave the order, but I sent another one to the terrorists with a nice little clue about her code name should anyone have an enquiring mind.” She was proud of her doings. “Seemed to do the trick!”

“And you thought your troubles were over.” (Y/N) was furious.

“I was tired; tired of the mess of it all,” she sighed. “I just wanted some peace, some clarity.”

(Y/N) was about to go on and punch the light out of her, but Sherlock stopped her before she had even given two steps forward.

“The hostages were killed, AGRA too…” She looked across to (Y/N), “or so I thought. My secret was safe. But apparently not. Just a little peace. That’s all your friend wanted too, wasn’t it? A family, home. Really, I understand.”

(Y/N) glanced across to Sherlock, but his gaze was fixed on the secretary who lifted her handbag as if in preparation to stand, and rests one hand on the open top of it.

“So just let me get out of here, right? Let me just walk away. I’ll vanish. I’ll go forever. What d’you say?”

“After what you did?!” (Y/N) roared furiously. She once again started walking towards the woman.

“(Y/N), no!” Sherlock yelled. That’s why he didn’t take her to her cases.

In a fluid moment, the secretary stood up, pulling a pistol from her handbag and aiming it at (Y/N), who stopped and backed away.

(Y/N) considered her options for a second before obliging. “Okay.” She moved back to stand at the other side of Sherlock.

The secretary stopped pointing with her pistol and looked at it as if it was a toy.

“I was never a field agent. I always thought I’d be rather good.”

(Y/N) scoffed. She was upset and she knew they were wasting their time by trying to reason with her. She never understood why Sherlock insisted on talking to the criminals first.

“Well, you handled the operation in Tbilisi very well,” Sherlock complimented and (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

“Thanks.”

“For a secretary.”

(Y/N) and the secretary looked at him with wide eyes.

“What?” The woman frowned.

“Can’t have been easy all those years, sitting in the back, keeping your mouth shut when you knew you were cleverer than most of the people in the room,” he blurted out.

“I didn’t do this out of jealousy!” She defended herself.

“No?” Sherlock smirked. “Same old drudge, day in day out, never getting out there where all the excitement was. Just back to your little flat on Wigmore Street.”

The secretary gaped.

“They’ve taken up the pavement outside the Post Office there. The local clay on your shoes is very distinctive.”

The woman looked down to her dusty shoes. She looked like a rag, no wonder why he thought she was jealous.

“Yes, your little flat.”

“How do you know?”

Sherlock was ready for a quickfire session to kill time and show off to the woman he married. He cocked his head and smirked as if he had already won.

“Well, on your salary it would have to be modest and you spent all the money on that cottage, didn’t you? And what are you? Widowed or divorced?” He focused in on a plain gold band on the index finger of her left hand. “Wedding ring’s at least thirty years old and you’ve moved it to another finger. That means you’re sentimentally attached to it but you’re not still married. I favour widowed, given the number of cats you shared your life with.”

(Y/N) watched the woman closely. She knew that look, that void of fear, that confidence. The woman wasn’t shaking, nor she was feeling vulnerable. No, she was starting to burn in anger. She was a crazy woman who thought she was better than anyone else, of course, she would burn if anyone told her she was anything less than that.

She hadn’t done it out of jealousy, she had done it because she could.

“Sherlock…” (Y/N) warned.

“Two Burmese and a tortoiseshell, judging by the cat hairs on your cardigan,” Sherlock continued. “A divorcee’s more likely to look for a new partner; a widow to fill the void left by her dead husband.”

“Sherlock, don’t,” (Y/N) insisted with a louder tone.

But instead of listening, Sherlock rose his voice ad he got fully into his stride. “Pets do that, or so I’m told, and there’s clearly no-one new in your life, otherwise you wouldn’t be spending your Friday nights in an aquarium. That probably accounts for the drinking problem too: the slight tremor in your hand… The red wine stain ghosting your top lip. So yes. I say jealousy was your motive after all - to prove how good you are...”

The secretary turned to gaze at the entrance as Mycroft walked in.

“... To make up for the inadequacies of your little life.”

The secretary was still looking at the entrance. Inspector Lestrade came in followed by three uniformed police officers.

“Well, Mrs Norbury. I must admit this is unexpected,” Mycroft said, hiding away his true feelings.

“Vivian Norbury, who outsmarted them all,” Sherlock slurred, dripping in sarcasm. “All except Sherlock Holmes.”

He took a step forward, holding out his left hand. (Y/N) and the police officers behind her also stepped forward.

“There’s no way out,” he whispered.

“So it would seem,” Mrs Norbury smiled. “You’ve seen right through me, Mr Holmes.”

“It’s what I do.”

She tilted her head to one side. “Maybe I can still surprise you.”

Swiftly, she brought up the gun and aimed it at Sherlock. Everyone got defensive instantly.

“C’mon,” Lestrade pointed at her, “be sensible.”

Sherlock held his hands out to the side. Mrs Norbury shook her head.

“No, I don’t think so.”

She fired. The bullet headed towards Sherlock who stood there unmoving. (Y/N), who had no doubt anticipated that this was going to happen, hurled herself sideways in front of him and the bullet impacted her lower chest. Blood sprayed outward and immediately there was a large bloodstain on her shirt. Crying out, she fell to the floor against a nearby bench.

“Surprise,” Mrs Norbury said, filled with spite.

(Y/N) rolled over to slump against the back of the bench, gasping in pain. As two of the police officers hurried over to Mrs Norbury to disarm her, Sherlock stared at (Y/N) in shock, then dropped to his knees to press his gloved hand against the wound. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, and whimpered.

“Everything’s fine. It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered. “Get an ambulance!” He commanded, looking round to Mycroft.

“You are such a cock,” (Y/N) whimpered.

“I know,” Sherlock smiled sadly. “But now, dare I say it, it’s not about me.”

“What do I do now, detective?”

Sherlock started checking her frantically just as John ran in. Without asking any questions, he checked her too and laid her down on the floor.

“It’s all right,” Sherlock kept saying, “it’s all right.”

“You can do better than that,” (Y/N) groaned and John kept track of her vitals.

“Like what?”

“Like what about you shut up next time?” Sherlock chuckled and nodded.

“Noted,” he said. “Anything else?”

“If I don’t die…” She started and Sherlock interrupted her.

“Which you won’t.”

“IF I DON’T DIE,” she insisted, “I want you to be more loving towards me.”

“What?” Sherlock frowned and John laughed. “No.”

“Oh, oh, I think I’m losing her,” John joked, “(Y/N), stay with us!”

“Okay, fine,” Sherlock agreed. “But only when we’re alone.”

“That’s not how it works,” John coughed.

“It is how it works!” Sherlock cried.

“It’s not!” Mary laughed and kneeled down next to (Y/N), helping John to keep her stable while the ambulance arrived.

“You two are too nosey,” Sherlock mumbled.

“Loving, you must be loving at all times or I’m going to die,” (Y/N) repeated. She was falling unconscious, so John and Mary urged Sherlock to keep her awake for just a couple of minutes now.

“Okay, what else?” Sherlock asked, “What else, (Y/N)?”

“Breakfast… in bed…” She mumbled.

“I already do that!”

“For me… breakfast in bed… for me,” (Y/N) insisted.

“You are such a cock” John mocked Sherlock.

“Yes, I’ve been told that twice in the last minute.”

Mary laughed and so the paramedics got there.

When (Y/N) woke up, she was surrounded by people. Mrs Hudson, Molly, John, Mary, and obviously Sherlock.

“We’re so glad you’re awake.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Look at you!”

All of them, talking to her nonstop. She only nodded and smiled, not knowing who to reply to first.

Her room was filled with flowers and balloons, and the dim light of midday snuck through the window, making it warm and cosy. She didn’t feel a thing because she was doped, but she faintly knew (by what she could catch hearing at least) that she had gone to surgery.

“I’m glad you’re awake and fine,” Sherlock said after everyone shut up.

“That’s all?” She complained.

John hit Sherlock slightly. The detective rolled his eyes and pulled out little cardboard cards from his pocket. He cleared his throat and started reading in a painfully monotone voice.

“My love, I am delighted for your recovery and I can’t wait for you to come back home to me. I’ve missed having you in my arms, smelling your hair in the morning, and just looking at your… bright, beautiful eyes every day. You are my soulmate, and the thought of losing you was so painful I knew right then and there that I… Nevermind that part, it’s bullshit,” he skipped three cards while everyone else either rolled their eyes or chuckled at him. “You are the love of my life… My best friends… Kiss, kiss, kiss… Er… The message is clear I think.”

“That’s all?” (Y/N) asked again.

Yes, she had technically forced him to date her, and then to marry her, and she had kind of manipulated him to promise her to be more loving, so she couldn’t really complain if he didn’t get it right the first twenty times, but she was the one laying on a hospital bed because he couldn’t get his head out of his own arse!

Sherlock exhaled heavily and looked around. Curious and impatient eyes were all over him, making feel terribly uncomfortable.

“The thought of losing you is unbearable, I was very anxious during your surgery and have been like that up until now that you’ve woken up,” he admitted.

“He also spent the night right here,” Mrs Hudson added. (Y/N) then noticed an unused blanket by the visitor’s sofa.

“Thank you, Mrs Hudson,” Sherlock groaned and gave (Y/N) a cheeky look. “I’m not good with words, but do know that I’d be damned if you, my wife, died.”

“How romantic!” (Y/N) smirked sarcastically. Sherlock eyed her, knowing she was just messing with him.

“I love you, I truly do.”

“And I love you,” (Y/N) said.

Sherlock then walked closer to her and kissed her softly on the lips. “Don’t ever follow me on a case, please.”

“I can’t promise you that.”

“Then don’t jump in front of me if I get shot.”

“Better you stop being a massive cock, ey?”

“I can’t promise that.” Sherlock smiled.

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dramioneasks · 6 years

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Ellooooo! So My semester is going like shît and I’m feeling down. 1) Is there any fics (oneshots) that are fluffy. You know the feel good kind. 2) any fics where it’s smut where Draco is possessive and jealous and just loves Hermione? I already checked the tags. Thank you and love be Lisa’s gifs! 👌

Hello! I have quite a list for you to read. They run the gamut from fluff to smut with a Possessive or Jealous Draco.

Just a reminder for next time, please send in two separate asks if you have more than one request. That way we can tag it better.

In, Out byUnseenLibrarian- Explicit, one shot

“Embrace your lover. Hold her close. Feel her warmth,her love, her trust.” - 487 word drabble - My Round One entry for HumpMadness 2012.

Startling Familiar byUnseenLibrarian- T+, one shot

Some wizards and witches think working in the Beast Divisionis a plush job. Hermione would say that they are absolutely right.

Taking Notice byUnseenLibrarian- T+, one shot

Draco is annoyed by Hermione’s hat. He proceeds to tell herjust what he thinks of it.

Once Upon a Dream byUnseenLibrarian- Explicit, one shot

Hermione is exhausted and desperate for a good night’ssleep. A slightly tipsy Draco Malfoy and a long line at the apothecary are onlythe start of her evening’s adventures.

In Private by acroacro- M, one shot

A short story about a Pureblood boy who falls in love with aMuggleborn girl, then throws over family traditions to woo the witch of hisdreams. Sounds familiar, yes? Thow in some oblivious best friends and thepossibility of a fainting goat, and we’re bound for happily ever after, right?

Tessella bydormensia- T+, one shot

Draco stumbles onto an unusual bookshop tucked away in acorner of Diagon Alley.

Tesseract bydormensia- T+, one shot

It should have been a typical day of volunteering at herfavourite bookshop in Diagon Alley.

Sawdust and Silver byStarwhalefamily- Explicit, one shot

“Heads up!”. Before she could jump back a largebeam was falling towards her. As she braced for the impact an arm reached outto stop it before it hit her. “Sorry about that”, cried the nearbyworker who had knocked it over. “Good save Draco”. It took a momentfor Hermione’s brain to catch up. “Wait, what?

Honey and Gold byStarwhalefamily- Explicit, one shot

Set a year after Sawdust and Silver. A sunny autumn day anda honey glaze makes Draco reflect on their relationship.

A Small Present byMusyc- GA, one shot

Hermione gets everything she wants for Christmas.

Ardent Bonds byMusyc- Explicit, one shot

Maybe it was wrong to think about this, maybe it washorrible to even consider, but if Draco Malfoy liked to dominate, she couldn’tstop herself from picturing it. Picturing him.

Artic Bonds by Musyc-Explicit, one shot

He claims wrapping her in snowy ropes is a gift to himselfthis Christmas, but Hermione knows that it’s a gift for her as well.

Coda to Ardent Bonds.

Clever Girl by Musyc-Explicit, one shot

In the vendor’s hall at a kinky convention, Draco talksHermione into talking.

All In Good Time byMusyc- Explicit, one shot

Twenty-five years after the war, Hogwarts librarian HermioneGranger (formerly Weasley) strikes up a relationship with Draco Malfoy, widowerof one year. Taking their time, moving slow, and letting things develop as theymay, the couple finds happiness all around themselves and in each other.

The Thing About Biscuitsby eilonwy- M, one shot

Hermione and Draco discover that the road to the heart canbegin with something as ordinary as biscuits.

Written for the 2013 D/Hr Advent Calendar. My prompt, notsurprisingly, was biscuits.

The Thing AboutBiscuits: Epilogue by eilonwy- GA, one shot

Hermione and Draco discover that the road to the heart canbegin with something as ordinary as biscuits.

This mini-fic is the epilogue of a story I wrote for the2013 D/Hr Advent Calendar fest entitled “The Thing About Biscuits.”

If you’ve arrived here first, let me direct you back to theearlier part of the story:

The Thing About Biscuits

The Hidden Heart byeilonwy- Explicit, one shot

A fairy tale retold…

Which Witch by Mr.Benzedrine89- T+, one shot

Synopsis: School lets out in one month, and Draco stillhasn’t told Hermione he’s fallen for her. When she offers to help him win overthe ‘mystery woman’ he’s pining over, what is a Slytherin to do but say yes?

Prompt: Really, Malfoy? Chocolates? Can it get anymorecliché? If you want to win over that mystery woman of yours, you’re going tohave to do better than that,“ Hermione says, rolling her eyes at him.

Written for Strictly Dramione’s 2017 Spring Fest

Irksome Thoughts byGlalie773- T, one shot

Now, Hermione understood the ‘goody-two-shoes’ role she hadplayed for the better part of almost seven years. Hermione couldn’t deny it anylonger: she thought that the Slytherins were more fun. D/Hr, DracoxHermione.One-shot.

Ice Cream Scoops byGlalie773, one shot

Draco Malfoy never believed in soulmates. Thoughdesperately, secretly, hopelessly… he wanted them to be real. Just so he’dknow that he would have Hermione Granger forever.

Take my Second Chanceby Glalie773, one shot

Severus lost his first chance. He’s giving his second one toDraco. "Essentially, another Potter would win another Lily Evans fromanother Severus Snape.” That. Could. Not. Happen. D/HG, one-shot!Snape-centric

Nobody Has To KnowDraco by Glalie773- T, one shot

… that you can’t produce a Patronus. Unless, of course,you’re instructed to show the class it. “At least I CAN produce one,genius,” Blaise snapped. D/Hr one-shot!

Unmasked by RZZMG- M,one shot

Divorcee-single dad Draco Malfoy goes to the Yule CharityMasquerade and sees the woman of his dreams, but will Hermione Granger stillwant him when he’s finally unmasked? One-shot. Post-Hogwarts EWE.Dramione/Draco x Hermione. Romance/Drama/Hot Shag. Story won 2ndPlace-“BEST DRACO” at the 2010 Winter Round of the HP Fanfic Fan PollAwards-see profile for details. COMPLETE!

The Gift by RZZMG- M,one shot

After imbibing too much on Christmas Eve, Draco Malfoydecides to give himself a gift: Hermione Granger, his war prize slave. Can hergift of love tame the darkness in his heart? One-shot. Dramione/dark Draco xHermione. A/U,Post-Hogwarts,EWE. COMPLETE!

Because You’re Mineby RZZMG- M, one shot

“No emotional entanglements. That had been theagreement at the beginning of this, and if I want to keep seeing her, I have tomake her think I’m living up to that end of the bargain…” Draco Malfoyand Hermione Granger-Weasley meet at a married swinger’s club & becomeinvolved. Post-Hogwarts ( 10 years). Dramione. Romance/Angst/Drama. 2015Dramione-Duet entry. One-shot. COMPLETE!

Hydrotherapy byeilonwy- Explicit, two shot

Draco finds a trip to the showers after playing Quidditch…enlightening.

Sighs and Sacrificeby UnseenLibrarian- Explicit, two shot

Mix a sly Slytherin, a rule-loving Gryffindor, an unspokenmutual attraction, and a wizarding romance novel; suddenly Draco Malfoy andHermione Granger are trapped by the written word. Will they find their ownhappy ending?

The Malaria Visionsby galfoy- M, 3 chapters complete

Hermione has a series of vivid dreams about Draco Malfoyafter taking anti-malarial medication. Can she reconcile the real Draco withthe one she sees when she sleeps?

Opaleye: A Dragon’sLove by RZZMG- M, 3 chapters, complete

A rare Opaleye dragon has set-up a lair in the ruins ofMalfoy Manor. Hermione Granger is dispatched to check it out. Not all is as itseems though. A dragon’s love is forever. Post-Hogwarts.Drama/Romance/Mystery/HOT SHAGGING. Draco x Hermione. Story won 1st Place for“BEST STORY TWIST” at the 2010 Winter Round of the HP Fanfic Fan PollAwards-see profile for details. COMPLETE

Vivaldi by dormensia-GA, 4 chapters complete

In response to DHLane’s challenge: to write a story thatinvolved Draco seeing Hermione from a distance and at the same time everyday.What were his thoughts, his reaction to seeing her? What was the outcome ofthis strange meeting?

The Magician’s Taleby eilonwy- Explicit, 5 chapters, complete

A chance encounter in an exotic locale brings Draco andHermione together after more than a decade to solve a complex and potentiallydangerous mystery.

The Mirror Series:Forbidden Desire by RZZMG- M, 5 chapters, complete

Booking an appointment with the famous sex practitioner,Draco Malfoy, was not the sanest idea Hermione Granger ever had, but maybe nowshe’ll finally get the answers she’s waited 10 years for. Mystery/Romance/Hotshagging-DMxHG. FIC CHALLENGE! COMPLETE!

Bond by Mr.Benzedrin89-Explicit, 5 chapters, complete

What happens at Bond stays at Bond -Hermione Granger isasked out for drinks at Bond, an exclusive club that offers anything fromdancing to so much more. When she, quite literally, falls into Draco Malfoy’slap, will she give in to her more primal urges? Rated M for a reason! Will be 4parts. **WINNER: BEST SMUT 2017 Dramione Awards**

Drinking Buddies byMr. Benzedrine89- Mature, 8 chapters, complete

Hermione’s relationship with Ron is falling apart -and, bychance, she takes up drinking with Draco Malfoy. Lemons and plot to follow.Rated M for smutty lemons and mature themes.

Jilted by cleotheo-M, 10 chapters, complete

Dumped on her wedding day, Hermione decides to head off onhoneymoon to escape the inevitable gossip that she knows will come. While onholiday she encounters Draco and the pair embark on a passion filled affair. Istheir romance just a holiday fling or will it continue once they have to returnto their normal lives?

The Hunger byeilonwy- Explicit, 10 chapters, complete

Written for the Dramione Couples Remix fest on LJ, which hasjust concluded. My chosen couple were Little Red Riding Hood and the Big BadWolf.

Future Adventures bycleotheo- M, 11 chapters, complete

During a joint Potions/Charms lesson, Draco is accidentallygiven an overdose of a potion that will allow him to experience time in thefuture. During his time in the future he sees plenty of unexpected things, butwill he like how his life is going to turn out?

Original Sin byRZZMG- M, 11 chapters, complete

M.L.E. Officer Hermione Granger receives a note to come toMalfoy Manor to prevent her charge, Draco Malfoy, from breaking the terms ofhis probation. The note claims Draco is an unregistered Animagus & he’strapped himself in animal form, unable to reverse the spell. He needs her help!2013 HP-Porninthesun entry. Dramione. Romance/Drama/Hot Shag. Fest Winner-Mod’sChoice! COMPLETE

La Cerise: TheSweetest Cherry by RZZMG- M, 16 chapters, complete

Draco Malfoy visits a Masked Gentlemen’s Club and meets anew courtesan making her debut - a beauty known only as The Princess. She’s upfor auction to the highest bidder, and Draco’s determined to win her! RegencyEra A/U. Draco x Hermione/Dramione. Story nominated and multiple wins at the HPFanfic Fan Poll Awards-see profile for details. COMPLETE.

- Wynken

#anonymous #Fluff #Smut #Draco: Jealous #Jealousy [Draco]#draco: protective and possessive

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akampana · 2 years

Note

5, sickness asks, Ozyturia because you've apparently been riding that train recently.

5. “Can you stand?”

OzyTuria <3 Hello, and thank you for the ask! Here's some good old modern AU for you!

____

The bittersweet smell of coffee wafted in through the double-doors, catching the attention of every C-lister in the conference room. Except for one.

While Kay’s intern passed out pricey handcrafted lattes, Arturia’s mossy stare remained on the tanned man across her, who leaned just a tad bit too heavily on his palm. The others didn’t seem to notice Ozymandias’ discomfort, but she’d been working with him long enough to know when something was wrong. This was the seventh time he’d flinched. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

Their meeting had been long and grueling, beginning with Iskandar’s ostentatious PowerPoint and continuing through Gil’s not-so-humble accomplishments. She could understand Ozy’s exhaustion, listening to those two was a taxing endeavor, but there was definitely something else weighing down the Egyptian’s shoulders.

Arturia found herself sighing in relief when her turn to present her company’s position finally came.

“The floor is yours, little Pendragon,” the real estate developer prompted, cocking a red eyebrow toward the screen. She had to resist the temptation to chuck her laser pointer at Iskandar but, oh, did she want to. He bloody deserved it.

Heels thudding softly on the carpet, Arturia made her way to the podium. And that’s when she heard it—a whimper no louder than a feather falling to the ground. If she hadn’t been actively listening she’d have missed it amidst the room chatter.

“I move to adjourn this meeting until two in the afternoon tomorrow, I’ll host.” she said decisively, turning in her stilettos with a painstakingly practiced grace.

Silence.

Gilgamesh raised an eyebrow. Iskandar dropped his jaw. Clearly, no one was used to the stiff, hardworking Pendragon asking for a break, but she stood her ground, eyeing them each with that blazing emerald stare.

Especially Ozymandias, who returned her gaze with one so clearly masked.

He knew there was no deceiving Arturia any longer, not when she’d been such a rather constant presence in his life over the last three years, by his wife’s own request. Just as he could tell Arturia wasn’t actually as exhausted as her motion to adjourn implied, she knew he’d been biting back groans for the last few hours.

Familiarity was both a blessing and a curse. Considering the amount of discomfort he was in, however, he couldn’t tell which it was at this point.

“...Seconded,” barked the arrogant blonde (to Ozymandias’s relief), yawning as he collected his car keys on his way toward her. “But I do expect far better refreshments ex nunc, Arturia.”

Oblivious to the golden pair of eyes that bitterly watched their exchange, Gilgamesh turned their handshake into a partial embrace, snaking his free hand around her waist in the split second before Arturia stepped out of his touch. There really couldn’t be a day where she didn’t feel like a mouse to his snake. If Gil were any less a wise businessman, she’d have taken her work elsewhere.

As soon as Gilgamesh turned away, Arturia held onto Ozy’s sleeve, keeping the architect in place while the exit door swung open for the other two company owners. Gil gave her one last playful smirk then disappeared after Iskandar, probably excited to head home to a waiting Enkidu.

Quiet filled the room once again, a palpable tension accompanying the two heated stares that burned through the damn door closer. The thing slowed the wood to an irritating snail’s pace, for gods sakes, Arturia was definitely going to get it changed.

At last, the door clicked closed, and the few that remained on the office floor would not be witness to Ozymandias’s pain.

The Egyptian collapsed onto the desk like a house of cards, falling onto his folded arms with muted groans escaping through his teeth. His name was on Arturia’s lips. Then his last name. His nickname. Then some odd mix of both that his brain could no longer make sense of. He was dimly aware of her warm palms cupping his face, but they were no relief to the ache that made him feel like tearing out his own spine.

As soon as she came closer, he grabbed her wrist in a throttle hold, desperately trying to distract himself from the crippling pin pricks that had tortured his lower back all afternoon. Her skin slid against his, liquid salt from his palms slathering beneath her blazer sleeve, but he was too out of it to care. His own heartbeat thumped through his ears like war drums, every beat louder, every beat coming faster than the last. What was left of coherent thought went to praying to every god he could think of, that perhaps he join his wife sooner—

Suddenly, heat spread from the small of his back like a ripple. His jaw relaxed—he didn’t know how long he’d been grinding his teeth—and with a shaky, cautious inhale he was able to breathe.

“Ozy. Ozy,” Arturia whispered soothingly, trying to get his attention the best she could.

The architect finally registered what she’d presented before him, blinking through the spots in his vision. The ibuprofen was swallowed in seconds, downed by what he hoped was his own glass of water. For now, he could bear his body’s self-inflicted curse, at least until the painkiller kicked in. It shouldn’t take too long. It shouldn’t—

His vision went black.

The scent of flowers filled his senses as two hands held him in an embrace he missed more than anything life could offer. He recognized the scent. Nefertari’s favorites, the pink ones he could never remember the name of. Ozymandias turned his head, resting his cheek upon his wife’s soft lap. They used to lie like this often, especially in the early days of their union. Some may have called them a little too affectionate, but...it was hard to be any less with his wife around.

Ozy...

The Egyptian closed his eyes tighter, ignoring that the voice was far too low, too stern to have been his wife’s. He buried his head deeper into his dream’s comforting grasp, hoping the fantasy could last just one minute more. One second, he bargained.

Alas, it seemed there was none to answer the widower’s wish.

His golden eyes blinked open to meet glowing green orbs and hay-colored hair, both a shade of color rather rare in his country of birth. Then of course, there was Miss Pendragon’s too-tidy state of dress, her lily-scented perfume...these were all things that weren’t and could never be attributed to the gentle person that now lived only in his dreams.

All at once, it occurred to him that his surroundings were far darker than he remembered, the honking of city traffic and light pollution indicating the afternoon was long gone.

“My apologies for waking you,” she whispered, her eyes trained at the double doors. “But we have reached the small interval between shifts at my office building. It would be most advisable to leave now. Can you stand?”

Ozymandias gave his friend a dizzy nod, watching her smooth out the wrinkles in her pencil skirt. There were a few darker spots in the grey: his sweat, and most probably drool, but she didn’t seem to mind.

The events that transpired before he passed out returned to him as she slung his arm over his shoulder and said, “I called Nitocris. She trusted me to drive you home tonight.”

“...This is humiliating, Arturia,” the man said, leaning heavily on the small woman against his will. “Do you think me so debilitated that I can’t grip a steering wheel and operate two pedals?”

Arturia didn’t answer as they hobbled through the office and into the elevator. Thankfully, being the CEO of her company came with some perks, meaning her access card could take them straight down to the private car park without risk of being seen by anyone else. Ozy, Gil, and even Alex...they quite hated to look anything less than dignified in front of other people.

“...How could you even discern I was...” Ozymandias trailed off as they both watched the number count down from sixty. Fifty-nine. Fifty-eight. Fifty-seven. Fifty-six…

“You were far too quiet,” she answered frankly.

Arturia did not offer pity, or even empathy during the car ride. Neither ever comforted her business partner. Instead, what dropped onto his lap was the same instant hot compress she used on his back before he took the pill she offered. She was lucky she brought it with her today, else her old friend have an even worse experience that he did this afternoon.

At least he'd been able to get some relief, snoring softly into her lap while she sat on the table. He'd looked so peaceful then, wearing an expression she hadn't seen since his wife was still around.

Arturia snuck a glace at the man in the passenger's seat, finding his eyes already on her cheek. She looked away.

They shuffled into his condominium unit clumsily, for even in heels, she made for a poor crutch at her shorter height. But at least within the confines of his apartment, he could allow himself a limp and finally shed the dignified persona he wore the whole damned day.

“This accursed, fragile body…” he grumbled as he removed himself from her, body creaking like an old door as soon as he lost her support.

His blazer hit the couch with a soft thud, followed by his tie, his belt. It hadn’t been too long since he’d taken the painkiller, but already the pin-pricks were starting to spread through his spine. He couldn’t care less if Arturia saw him so disheveled. She was no stupid woman, she already knew.

“...When did you stop taking your medications?” she asked hesitantly, a familiar unopened yellow bottle in her hand.

Ah, there it was: the million dollar question he anticipated since he woke up in her lap instead of his late wife’s.

“You would enjoy some tea, yes?" the architect asked, haphazardly preparing two porcelain cups he tried not to associate with his beloved. "Earl Grey, if I recall correctly. Of course, I do possess some from my home, which I do believe I haven’t yet let you try. It is of the finest quality. You should not expect any less from one such as me when it is I that hosts—”

“Oz.”

He heard his bones creak as he inhaled. Yet another reminder that he was forever unwell, a fact about himself that his own wife revealed to Arturia once before. He loved Nefertari, he always would, but if she could have kept his condition to herself he could have avoided all this green-eyed scrutiny.

The architect continued pouring the Karkadeh, even though he knew the stubborn blonde could not be swayed by the red drink even if she did love tea.

“These were prescribed months ago. The date you flew in. Have you been neglecting your health since you arrived for the joint project?”

Ozymandias lightly pressed the cup to her lips, but all she did was take it from him and set it aside.

“Will you grant me the answer, or shall I wait the night for nothing?” she persisted, stepping into his personal space.

Their gazes clashed like swinging swords, fierce and abrasive as each fought for dominance. He so detested Arturia for her spirit at times, for she was a dangerous spitfire: headstrong and brilliant and so irritatingly obstinate. It could be an admirable quality, yes, but it also meant there was no escape for him when he was so cornered by her words.

“Longer,” he answered her, bringing his own cup to his lips.

Arturia covered its rim with her palm before he could take a sip, pulling it away such that it was only she in all her tiny glory that occupied his full attention.

“That treadmill doesn’t look like it's seen use either, Oz,” Arturia observed, seeing the layer of dust upon its handles.

“Well done. Hmph, it seems you are capable of simple deduction," he said, eye twitching. "How assuring to know my long-time associate has surprisingly good sense.”

It was a backhanded compliment, they both knew that, but it was also abundantly clear that: One, he’d used up all his deflections for the day. Two, she had no plans of letting this slide

“A year,” he mumbled.

As soon as he said those words, she whipped out her phone, dialing the number for her favored hospital’s rheumatologist. She dodged out of Ozymandias’s touch, once twice, until he latched onto her wrist the same way he did earlier that day.

“What are you doing?” he ordered more than asked, swiping for her phone as she backed into the nearest wall.

“Calling your London doctor, what else? You’ve neglected yourself for a year, Oz, you know your condition has likely progressed—”

For a man suffering through fused vertebrae, he was shockingly limber enough to end the call and chuck her phone out of reach.

“Do not mistake me for one that takes action without knowing the consequences,” He spoke, anger simmering in his honey-colored eyes. “I am no idiot, Miss Pendragon, and while I am grateful for your assistance in returning me to my quarters, I feel you and I should take the much overdue adjournment that you motioned for—”

The scent of lilies filled his nostrils, and suddenly he was very aware of their proximity. Arturia looked up at him with a defiant stare that was inches away, her usual bun ruined as she pressed herself against the drywall.

Ozymandias released the wrist he’d pinned above her head, suddenly fearful she’d associate his actions with those of a certain red-eyed “friend” of theirs.

“Why?”

The single syllable echoed through his condominium, eventually replaced by the steady, even sound of her breathing and his labored exhales.

Arturia had put him in limbo, stringing him at the exact space in between vulnerability and pretenses. Scratch that. She knew too much for him to put on a strong facade. That’s just what over a decade of partnerships does to a person, he supposed.

“There used to be...meaning in my creations,” he said finally, swaying forward till his head rested on the wall. “Everything I designed was in her honor. Every skyscraper, every museum, I made to proudly showcase and dedicate to her.”

Salty droplets fell and disappeared onto Arturia’s blazer, but she didn’t mind. Her hands hovered awkwardly, caught between embracing the grieving widower and letting him be.

“You can never understand how it feels to carry on with the same activities I undertook when she is no longer by my side. My passion for my work is absent, knowing she cannot see the fruit of it. And so, too, has disappeared any point there must have been to my life.”

Ozymandias was right. Arturia could never understand how it feels to be deprived of a soulmate. She’s certainly never been loved that way, not even by her ex-fiancé.

Hell, she only discovered what love meant when she first met the Egyptian couple all those years ago. But she only realized the true gravity of that four letter word when she visited Nefertari in the hospital three years back.

His wife didn't have much time left, but...it was clear to Arturia that theirs was a love that would endure far longer than either lived. Even when Ozy was asleep, he held Nefertari's hand in a firm grip. He held it all through Arturia's visit.

The sweet woman told her to take care of her husband, whispering an elaborate plea while her eyes remained on the man that snoozed in a chair right next to her bed.

At Nefertari’s request, Arturia was there at her funeral. Then every month for a year, she’d take at least one flight to check on Ozy, under the guise of common business or goodwill. After the initial year, Nefertari urged for quarterly visits, at least once every three months. She nearly begged for Arturia to come over during her death anniversaries. An almost morbid request, but the businesswoman couldn’t quite deny the woman’s wish.

So, Arturia did as she was asked, going to see Ozy whenever business didn't bring them together. This year had brought him to London for an entire quarter, however, so she saw her promise still fulfilled.

To this day, the blonde still didn’t fully grasp the true meaning behind what Nefertari truly asked for.

Ozymandias did. He understood the fifth month in a row Arturia came to Cairo. He was just having a difficult time accepting his wife's final “gift”.

“I don’t pretend to know your grief, Oz,” Arturia said, finally deciding to loop her arms around him as gently as she could. “However, I cannot stand by and watch you do this to yourself either. It simply...isn’t right. I ought to have looked after you better.”

His large hands landed on her shoulders. At first, to push her away. Part of him still believed this was wrong; still refused to acknowledge he was starting to care for another, but...

“I’m taking you in for an appointment in the morning. Do you understand?”

It was getting rather pointless to resist. He returned her embrace, letting her warm hands soothe both the pain in his back and perhaps one day, in his heart.

“Yes.”

___

A few notes:

Ozy here has ankylosing spondylitis, a complex inflammatory disease that can cause vertebrae to fuse and causes quite a lot of aching pain. There's no way to stop it, but measures can be taken to help deal with it including taking medications, exercise and physical therapy, which Ozy was neglecting here.

Also, irl Ramses II was initially thought to have this, but there's debate that it might actually be Diffuse idiopathic skeletal hyperostosis (DISH) which is another type of arthritis with similar painful effects.

Thank you so much for the ask!!! :D

Sickness Prompts List

#this got long lmao #akampana asks #sickness prompts #ozyturia #ozytoria #widower x divorcee forever #although I guess she isnt technically divorced here #ozymandias #rider #arturia pendragon #artoria pendragon #arturia #artoria #saber #fgo #fate #fate grand order #fate fanfic #my writing

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