Kat_Ve Writes

Writing dark Dramione🖤| 18+

[katvewrites]

Can I ask for your copy of what you are currently wiring? I came to tell you I absolutely devoured your dramione fic. I am sorry.. I don’t think I ever read such great description of power imbalance. I am totally in love in your style of writing. My English isn’t good but I refuse to use chat gpt for that matter 🤣 damn, you rock my world

thank you so much 😊

I'm still just learning to write honestly, and Dramione is such a good ground for that. I don't pretend to be anything special, sometimes I just have these pictures in my head and I want to put them into words the way I see them.

About original work, yeah I've been thinking about it. but it's always harder. Dramione gives you a familiar world and characters, and with your own stuff you have to build everything yourself. so it's a real challenge for me. but I'll see where it goes.

[katvewrites]

"What is this between us?"

The question slips out easily. Like a feather.

She hadn't planned to ask. Was going to wait. Choose the moment. Prepare.

But she asked. Now. Like this. Naked, vulnerable.

He sighs. The sound quiet, barely noticeable. Crouches again. Looks up at her.

Eyes grey, cold. But something flickers in their depths. Elusive.

"What is this between us, Granger?" He returns the question.

"A neurotic unhealthy attachment," she begins listing. Words push out one after another. "A sick game. Unhealthy. Ugly. Toxic."

[katvewrites]

I slide the keycard. Green light. Push the door.

The room is dark. I left the curtains open and the parking lot light comes through the window in a long orange rectangle across the bed.

There's someone sitting in the chair by the window.

My hand is still on the door handle. My body hasn't decided whether to run or freeze so it does both at the same time, legs locked, pulse slamming, fingers squeezing the metal until it hurts.

The shape in the chair doesn't move.

I know who it is before he speaks. I know from the way he sits. Still. Taking up the chair like it was designed for him, like every chair in every room was designed for him, like furniture rearranges itself when he enters.

"You're late."

[katvewrites]

Revulsion and temptation feed on the same words. You're mine.

But all of him is a dataset.

Detached. Cold.

His entire business is ruthless toward people. Stripping them of jobs. Stripping them of dignity. Maybe it grows from his rotten soul. He quotes Faust for a reason.

And I'm a moth near an electric lamp. Beating against the glass wall. Burning.

Because accepting his terms is terrifying. But not accepting them is a crime. So like Alice I jump into the rabbit hole.

[katvewrites]

When you finally leave my dreams,

if that day ever comes

swear me the quiet.

[katvewrites]

Silence in the library

Candles burn in half-light here

The floorboards learn our rhythm

The shelves absorb the sound

[katvewrites]

The ball burned beautifully. But the one who threw it? Gone before the ash

[katvewrites]

"To understand what I cannot understand

To hide another's sin, just to be with you

To pull the blanket over, sleep the sleep of the trusting"

[katvewrites]

"My turn," he says. His voice shifts. Lighter. More dangerous.

A sip of wine.

"What was your first time like?"

Hermione freezes. The teacup stops halfway to her mouth.

"I'm not discussing that with you."

"We're just chatting," Malfoy says innocently. As innocent as Malfoy is capable of being. "Light topics."

[katvewrites]

The sun goes out without you.

Can't breathe.

That was the answer to everything.

Without loving you I'm dead.

Just dead.

[katvewrites]

The night was terrible.

Hermione stared at the ceiling, searching for cracks. None. Flawless . Like everything in this damned house.

The bed was too soft. Silk sheets like cool water. Disgustingly comfortable.

And his smell. Cedar and something dark. On the sheets. In the air. Everywhere.

Malfoy was everywhere.

[katvewrites]

In your city it rains.

I'd press the sound of it onto a disc for you—

my heartbeat underneath, hidden in the static.

You'll drown the bass out.

I know.

So let me just stay inside the track instead.

Pull over.

Pull the car over to the side of the road.

I'm getting out here.

Your Paris is burning outside your window—

shattered rooftops, ember-light on glass,

but without me.

Without me.

Without me.

[katvewrites]

Bound hands. Gentle mouth. That's the contradiction.

[katvewrites]

Come to me," he says simply. Voice low, even. "Tonight. At ten."

Tonight. In an hour and a half. At his home. Alone.

"Why so late?" she asks, and her voice betrays a tremor.

"Because I'm a busy man, Granger. I work a lot." A pause. Lips stretch into a slow smirk. "And because I want it that way."

[katvewrites]

"Your life won't change. Except one thing."

He steps close. Looms over her.

"You're mine now. I call, you come. I command, you obey. No questions. No refusal. No choice."

THE PRICE OF BALANCE

Read on AO3

[katvewrites]

Boredom.

I'd have left this world—

chin up. Door shut.

But you.

You look at me

with those brown eyes.

I'd bury you so deep in me

you'd stop surfacing,

stop stirring what's left of my soul.

I'd have picked an easier woman.

God knows I would.

The harder you strike,

the louder it rings through me—

bone-deep. Can't shake it.

But the mutts circle.

They want to tear me apart, the whole pack of them,

snarling, tearing at the seams.

So I stay.

I'd stay with someone like you.

With a bitch like you.

[katvewrites]

Understated, Tasteful Gifts Draco Malfoy Would Give