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@periitpuer
‘ Pirates? Fairies? Being a Hufflepuff isn’t enough for you, Darling? You have to draw attention to yourself in other ways?’
Fingers flipped idly through the pages of the leatherbound volume before stopping to rip a particularly offending passage out; expression screwed up in a grimace and lips curving in a sneer as gaze met the girl in front of him once more.
‘ Leave it to a mudblood to waste time on something such as that... ‘
like for a starter, muggles. I’m starting this guy over. All previous threads have been dropped. Blog will run off a queue.
scenes with draco malfoy
. ◇‘ﾟ Ｎ — Ｍ ｡*ﾟ･ﾟ
It’s almost like a lightning has hit her, the painful jolt running through her spine and spreading the ache into her muscles and each bone it found. Her ribs cracked far too many times ( oh, metaphorical, for she was kept SAFE from everything but words ) and her arms broken, helpless. Unable to hold him back anymore. She was a cripple when it came to anything of the sort.
Her sister had a view much different, her mind consumed by the darkness. She was sure they’d succeed. She didn’t think twice of what could happen, what WOULD happen. Even more convinced of their mission than her and thought that whatever the cost, it was worth it. She however would not, not if it cost the life of her son. She would sooner destroy everything around her than let HIM be taken.
But now he was paying the cost of their actions. HIS actions. She’d never own them, she wouldn’t be the direct cause of this. So instead she sighs deep, holds herself back together. Counts to ten, like sisters had taught her. Speak your mind only when calm. It made sense, you see. Were she to sprout out words before she was ready to stand behind them— she could cause more harm than do good. Silence an option far better than using too many words and getting tangled in their mess.
❝ I’m your MOTHER. Of course you need me, don’t be foolish Draco. ❞
He could have laughed at her words, at the expression on her face if he hadn't been too busy c r y i n g. Did she really believe those things? Allow herself to think even for a moment that he had any hope in her? In their family? Disillusionment was a bitter poison that was drank from an even more bitter cup.. his father had failed. All talk and no bite, reduced to nothing but a sniveling coward in front of the man Draco now served. And his mother was no better. Tears, silent and salty, slid their way slowly down pale cheeks; born of frustration and anger as much as despair.. and a hint of fear. His mother was worried for him, scared of what he had been asked to do ... frightened by the thought of what would happen when if he failed. He longed to break, fingers itching to lower the sleeve still clamped in their grasp and wrap around his mother's slim form, taking comfort in her embrace. But he couldn't. Not if any of them were to survive this... Expression hardened, steeling himself against emotion as he had often seen his father do. With a blank face, one can make one's thoughts and fears almost inconsequential ... Don't believe in your insecurities Draco, and they won't exist...The first step would be to distance his mother. To put her in his place. If he was going to be successful he had to believe he would be successful. Didn't she see?
" I did need you. –– We all know how well you protected me then. " Fingers finally shifted, letting sleeve fall. It was still there. It was always there, even when it was covered. " I don't need you, or father, or anyone. He chose me. I can do this. " Still, his skin itched and burned.
Wonderful Draco *offers the mun cookies*
I think you mean wonderfully a b s e n t Draco but thank you all the same, it was lovely to log on tosomething such as this. Work and classes and myother main blog keep me so busy but I have such alove for Draco and his story and his personality andhis so very flawed way of thinking that i can’t evergive him up. –– I’m blessed to have some of the most patient partners (and friends) in the history of roleplay. Thank you so much for your the kind words, darling. They are very appreciated it (even though my gratitude is probably decades late at this point, I’m so sorry. )
//cOMBS Ur DAMN hAir
TRUCULENT whispers emit the most CRUEL of goad, words BELEAGUER the other; his mind is a G I L D E D cage & her w h i s p e r s are notes SPRUNG from the crow NESTED UPON it, whilst the RAVEN hums its its cries & its c a l l s for — MERCY !! mercy one holds above the ABOVE OTHER, mercy dared to PECK upon thy l o c k . ASTRINGENT cackles amongst CHAPPED orifice, TAINTED pearls faded ONYX bare HISS at further insinuations.
❛ a break, draco ?? ❜
❛ — tell me, why should i give you a BREAK ?? we’ve only just … ❜
as it seems with TIME, the wretched SENSATION intrinsically OPPOSED to the general idea builds. she takes note of PALLOR flesh, & the colouration beneath his CERULEAN hues. she could ALMOST feel REMORSE … but not quite. a DISTRACTION. in this ART FORM, she essentially GIFTS him as her LORD has her. her b e l o v e d lord.
❛ don’t be a fool, ❜
❛ pay ATTENTION !! ❜
He was frightened, not that he would ever admit it- but cold beads of sweat trailed down the back of his neck like the b r u s h of fingertips across pale skin and Draco s h i v e r e d; the left over energy from the spells in the room creating an inaudible hum that left the hair along the back of his neck crackling and on edge. His aunt's voice was condescending, derisively gentle, and the boy's jaw clenched against the feeling of apprehension that skittered its way up the knobs of his spine as fingers reached to push damp pale tendrils back from his forehead. The wand in his grasp is cool to the touch, u n y i e l d i n g much like the resolve of the woman before him, and Draco swallows once, pushing the lump of fear in his throat down, down, down as grey eyes steeled themselves for her next assault.
––––– he has no choice
[ Myrtle hardly noticed the passage of time anymore. A new school year had begun already? She couldn’t bring herself to care. Nothing touched her anyway, not the sun outside or the life inside the castle. No one noticed her, no one ever spoke to her if they could help it.
Years of anger and pain had rendered the girls loo completely unusable. Her fondness for flooding the place when her mood took a downturn spiral completely wrecked the floors, creating hairline cracks in the tile.
There were cracks in the mirror too, cracks people used to say she made with all her wailing. At first, Myrtle was shy around those who continued to mock her, even in death. She didn’t make a noise and tried to keep to herself. Years of further torment had changed that.
Maybe she was petulant, maybe she was childish, but she was also in pain.
That pain soon turned to blind rageagainst those who actively made sure she really was in hell. She had cried in the washroom in life, and she s c r e a m e d in death, completely disregarding the racket she made.
Let this be her heaven, her sanctuary, for Myrtle did not know how to move on. She stayed to hurt Olive Hornby, and when she died she was told to let go.
Myrtle stared at herself in the cracked bathroom mirror, a thousand pale eyes that used to be the color of muddy puddles peered back. Letting out a sob that could have been misheard as a dying animal, she reached over and turned on the tap.
Within minutes the water was rushing over the sides of the sink. Furiously, she worked herself into a frenzy, only stopping when the floor was completely soaked.
Tears stinging at her eyes, Myrtle sat at her place by the window, collapsing in on herself in her grief.
This was her ‘ life ’, This was her heaven and there was no way she could change that.
She lifted her head when she heard someone enter the bathroom, and ducked out of sight behind a pillar. Myrtle was nothing but angry when she realized it was a boy. ]
' Get out! ‘
[ She snapped with a passionate anger in her voice. ]
' Go away, this is a girls bathroom! ‘
Draco couldn't say who it was he had expected ... but it certainly hadn't been her. One pale brow rose, c o o l demeanor already so well practiced for a boy so young sliding almost effortlessly into place. She had started him, but there was no reason she needed to know that. Head craned to look behind him, fingers slipping from the edge of the door and letting it close as he stepped further into the soaked room; water sloshing over his trainers and saturating the edges of his robes. Grey eyes took in the broken fixtures and the spewing taps before settling on the ...girl?...that still stared so angrily at him. Arm reached for the nearest tap, turning it with a loud squeak of rusty metal until the water no longer cascaded into the already full basin. That was better. How did she think with all of that bloody noise? Who was this girl anyhow? It wasn't as if she was special .. Draco had certainly never heard anyone in the castle speak of her. Nor anyone in his family... how d a r e she speak to him that way. The corner of his lip twitched in a sneer; arms folding across his chest as he leaned against the now still sink, doing his best impression of his father when he was dealing with those idiots at the Ministry.
❛ But you're not really a girl either ––––––– you're dead.❜
and it's not a cry you hear at night it's not somebody who's seen the light it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah
✍
Send me a ✍ and a character and I'll draw the character horribly on MS Paint.
. ◇‘ﾟ Ｎ — Ｍ ｡*ﾟ･ﾟ
❝ He’s not going to kill you. I won’t let it happen. You have me. ❞
You had your father. Now he is gone. Locked up and that could be either one of us. Association with the Dark Lord, a price must be paid. He’d failed. Yet, she held faith in him, her son. Their mission and their goals. But to take her son, it was unacceptable and there needed to be some way to fix it. She NEEDED to. She was a mother and a mother never abandoned their child.
Anxiety builds up in the fibers of her body and her nerves getting the best of her she reaches for him, to brush her fingers against his hair, so similar to that of the father. A man, he had been forced to grow into, crumbling before her very eyes. She didn’t want to see the change, she could NOT see the change. To her he’d always be her child. The little babe she’d held in her arms, not knowing what to do with him. Now. She knew what any mother knew. They had to keep their child from harm.
And she’d failed with that horrendous mark upon his skin. But she’d make it right, you would see.
Teeth clenched at his mother's words, muscles in his jaw going rigid as he fought to stay calm. Didn't she understand? Didn't she see? She couldn't h e l p him, couldn't protect him... the brand on his arm was more than enough proof of that. How dare she stand there, and look him in the eye .. making promises to her only son that she couldn't keep. .. Would you make the Unbreakable Vow, mother? Tongue slid out over dry lips as he turned away from her, rolling his neck and letting teeth scrape the inside of his cheek as joints popped and cracked with released tension. Aunt Bella was right. Draco didn't need his mother, didn't need her sniveling help. It was pathetic. She latched onto him like he was still a boy, he acted like he was still a boy... his father had messed up, but he wouldn't.
Couldn't. He stood straighter at that, pale hair blending in with the stark contours of his face; fingers curling into fists at his side and leaving crescent shaped marks in his skin. He didn't have a choice, he had to do this. Grey eyes met blue before flickering to the stair case his Aunt had disappeared up; fingers uncurling to rip his sleeve up once more.
❛ I don't need you. –––– I was chosen ! ❜
To every person I roleplay with ever, Sorry I take so long to reply. I love you. Sincerely, Me
periitpuer
Lily wondered how long the bench outside of the Quidditch shop had sat there. The worn grooves in the wood gave a vague answer of ’long enough’, and settling in to one of the grooves, there was some comfort to know she was not the first person to have ever rested there out of exhaustion from shopping while others of her group bustled into the Quidditch supply store. Husband and son and pleaded and then triumphantly shoved a multitude of bags at her before bounding inside. Now she was juggling them all, setting them down around her without letting them spill into the path of the passing shoppers. She had voted for ice cream to end their Harry’s first School Shopping Trip. Of course her boys had preferred to go for the broomsticks. Only her lovable bums could choose Quidditch over ice cream. maybe she would get herself a scoop of peppermint while they were in the store. Just to spite them. Flattening the bag of Harry’s robes neatly in her lap, she bent and pulled free from the Flourish & Blott’s bag the new Charms book, wondering what made this edition so very different from her version and why it was worth what they had paid for it. Cracking it open, she pulled another back closer, making sure there was enough room on the bench for any other weary shopper.
It was stupid really, this whole shopping thing. He didn't understand why mother had to come at all, had expected it to be a sort of father-son escapade. The last thing he needed was his mother toting him around by the hand like some child. He wasn't going to complain too much though, he knew better than that. If he were to fuss too much his parents might just call the whole thing off and send the bloody house-elf instead... and that just wouldn't do. It had went well at first. A visit to Madam Malkin's for robes (that made him look rather handsome if his mother was at all to believe) followed by a trip through Eeylop's Owl Emporium; a dim building lit by low burning candles and filled with the rustling of feathers and the rather annoying excited squeals of other first years. Draco already had his owl, of course. A handsome tawny eagle owl delivered to him on his eleventh birthday and aptly named Merwyn after the inventor of many of Draco's favorite jinks and hexes. Not that he used magic, yet ... It was after Eeylop's that things started to dip a bit south. The chaos of muggleborns and halfbreeds had set his father on edge and Narcissa had that look about her again.. the one where she scrunched up her nose and tilted her head slightly back like she had smelled something unpleasant. He had wanted to make his way to Quality Quidditch Supplies, perhaps show his father the new Nimbus 2000, but their way had been blocked by a few associate's of his father's from the ministry and it was with a petulant shrug that Draco watched his mother and father amble off, already chatting animatedly with their colleagues, thoughts of their son far behind. He sighed, the pocketful of money he had been given as a quick bribe to behave jingling amicably in his pocket as he tuned and headed for the shops. He didn't really care about seeing the Nimbus 2000, had really only wanted to show his father in order to have an excuse to do something together. His father loved looking at new things, even if it was only to pass judgement on them, and the boy had hoped he would be able to square a few minutes of time with him out of the display, at least. So it was with hardly a glance that he passed the crowded shop, ignoring the excited gasps and murmurs that emitted from the doorway, and rolled his eyes as he collapsed forlornly on a bench, knocking someone's bag in the process.
❝ O - Oh. Sorry. I didn't mean to - ❞
Words faltered off as he met the eyes of Lily Potter. She was nice to him for the most part, he had never really understood what his parents had against the Potters, but he was sure they must have had a good reason. Whatever it was. And that son of hers was a bit of a prat. Cheeky little know it all from what Draco had heard. He hoped he wouldn't end up in Slytherin with him...
––– Gray eyes glanced up as he realized the woman was still watching him, fingertip playing along the rough edge of the table as the corners of his lips tugged up in a small grin. His parents weren't around, they were off talking to who knew who all ... what was the harm, right?
