defender of enemies to lovers

“...and did not fight.”

[ectoheart]

“What do you want me to do now?” he asked.

She blinked. “Whatever you want. You get to do whatever you want now.”

He looked around them. “I don’t think I remember how to do that.”

Hermione gave a wan smile. “I don’t either.” She looked around and held his hand more tightly. “We’ll find out what it’s like together. We don’t have to hurry. We have the rest of our lives to figure it out.”

⚜ Manacled by @senlinyu​ 7/?

[regulilying]

my first attempt at drawing these two (why is draco so damn hard to draw?!)

[regulilying]

dramione fanfiction twitter headers ;

[ isolation by bex-chan ]

“A j-joke?” he whispered. “Here’s one: Th-there were three Slytherins…Three f-fucked up Slytherins...”

[regulilying]

dramione fanfiction twitter headers ;

[ manacled by senlinyu ]

"I always have to choose, and I never get to choose you. I'm so tired of not getting to choose you."

[regulilying]

In which Regulus feels a pressing, festering gaze, and Lily is the unceasing, boundless cause - but both are too all-denying, too disbelieving - to ever meet the other's eyes with a message to unspokenly speak "You: it is You."

[regulilying]

And, so, there it was; so ugly that it made shivers shoot up her spine in nothing more than repulsion.

She could've gagged, his words running around her head and mingling with the rain cluttering outside. Don't hate me for it.

And it wasn't such that she hated him, of course — it was it, it, it, it!

Frozen and sickness and poison and denial. Red and black and grey glazed her sight and she racked a dry sob as he stood pathetically looking down at her. So, here it was and here it went. She should've known. He'd shrugged her away when she'd touched his arm and he was vaguely distant and she didn't miss the way he sat with the Slytherins. She knew what it all meant, of course. She knew the duties and rules and prejudice.

Maybe it had all been a lie.

Lily rocked on her toes and closed her eyes, trying not to feel his presence right beside her. She wanted to tell him to leave — leave forever — but words seemed to have got lost on the way to her tongue and instead they stood silent in the rain and the sadness.

She could not reach his eyes, that sparkled like ice in the summer and created an illusion like coal in winter. Right now they were sort of empty, and she didn't even want to think that — but the connection was unmistakable. They looked down at her red head and were empty with naivety.

They stood there as she shook her head over and over and muttered words that were inaudible. And then, "Lily." And, "don't." And, "I get it if you hate me." And, "but, but that's the problem, isn't it? I d-don't." And, "you should." And, "m-maybe, I'll learn to." And then the proper tears came. And just like Lily liked to think along with many things, she also liked to think that she didn't cry often. She did quietly into her pillow a couple months back when Nanny died, and when she wasn't as tall as present. But these were dry and hurting gasps for air that pulsated through her particles and clutched at her lungs. And Regulus Arcturus Black was causing it, and she hated it.

Whether it was a matter of hating him, she wasn't so sure, but it was certain that the black writhing mess on his wrist that moved like a snake, she hated.

She heaved and choked and as his hands shot forwards to touch her, she jerked away like he was toxic and she would die with one touch of his. And then it was a fuzzy chaotic mess as she shouted unprocessed words at him about trust and, and love, and he crumbled and tugged his sleeve down and watched her as she took the first step to hating him. And, "I'm sorry." But not, "it's okay." Just a whirl of angry red as she leaves.

- Sevens

[regulilying]

curiosity bleeds wonder, wonder bleeds infatuation, infatuation bleeds the inevitable.