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ravena-wrote · 1 year
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I’m getting really into binding my own fanfics. The problem is I hate the typesetting portion of the task. I’ve been able to find some typesets for fics I like on tumblr and stuff from stumbling across them but does anyone have recommendations for people or accounts that often post typesets? Would love it if someone could help me out 💜 
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ravena-wrote · 1 year
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what a shame
Pairing: Regulus Black x James Potter  Rating: Mature  Length: 2.4K words  This is a songfic inspired by the song what a shame by Lizzy McAlpine :)  Read on AO3
All Regulus can focus on is James’s bowed head, dark bar falling into his eyes, chest pressed against the bar in front of him. The soft slope of his nose and the gentle curve of his jaw. He licks his lips and Regulus tastes honey in the back of his throat. 
His breath is frozen in his chest. He can’t remember how many times he’s hoped for this. Longed for James to come back to him, even as a shadow, even as a dream. 
James pulls his beer closer to him. Regulus watches as his lips part gently over the top of the bottle and he tips his head back closing his eyes tight. 
It’s a sucker punch to the stomach. James. Here. Because Regulus knows that James could have loved him if he let himself. If he could just get past his mistakes, if he could just get past — 
“Excuse me,” Someone grunts behind him and Regulus spins on them in an instant, hand reaching frantically for his wand. 
“Sorry lad, you’re in the doorway,” The man says gently brushing past him into the bar. 
Regulus feels a lump bloom in his throat. This is what the war has made him into. He is a weapon and he is so so tired. He wants someone to tell him what to do. To tell him how to stop the fighting and the deaths and the never ending blood pooling in his palms. 
James leans forward in his seat. Regulus watches the muscles in his shoulders clench and release under the thin fabric of his dark blue shirt. 
He can’t decide if he should stay or if he should go. His hands start to sweat. It’s hard to breathe against the iron pressure of his ribs. 
He should go. 
But then James turns his head and Regulus’s heart jolts in his chest like he’s just been electrocuted. 
“Regulus,” James says quietly. His voice comes out cracked and an octave too deep. He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing gently under the fragile skin of his neck. His eyes dart around frantically, looking anywhere but Regulus’s face. 
“James,” Regulus breathes back. He doesn’t believe in god but the name feels like a prayer on his lips. 
James doesn’t respond. He sits now with his back pressed to the bar, his eyes burn gold as they catch in the light. 
“James,” Regulus repeats, a little louder this time, “What —“ He pauses, taking a step forward, “Are you okay?” 
James still doesn’t respond. He bows his shoulders, sinking into himself like he wishes he could disappear. He raises the beer for another sip and it shakes in his hand. Still his eyes don’t leave Regulus’s body. 
So Regulus moves forward again. This time he doesn’t stop until he’s right in front of James. 
James stares at him for a moment, frozen in position like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck, bracing for an inevitable crash, before shakily leaning back against the wooden bar and glancing up to meet Regulus’s eyes with his own. 
Regulus can’t look away from him. James is watching him searchingly, wonder in his warm eyes, beautiful, even red rimmed and desperate. 
Regulus wants to take him home. He wants to grab Jame’s face and press their lips together so gently that James will forget his own name, will forget the war, will forget every time he’s pulled his hand away from Regulus’s empty palm. 
He wants to take him to bed. He wants James so bad he bites down on his tongue until he tastes metal. He wants to crawl inside his body and pry his way under his ribcage, fingers cradling his heart. He wants to hear it beat against him forever. Safe. 
Regulus wants to touch him so bad his hands shake. 
Instead he shifts slightly to the left and slides onto the barstool beside James and shoves his hands deep into his pockets to stop himself from doing something he might regret. 
He orders his drink on autopilot. Every atom in his body is focused on the man beside him. He hadn’t noticed before but James still smells the same, like cedar and smoke and too many memories. 
“Regulus,” This time James says his name sweeter, warmer, like something Regulus wants to take a bite out of, “It’s really you.” 
“It is,” Regulus says softly, taking a large sip from his glass. Whisky burns warm down his throat. 
“Are you okay?” He repeats his question. 
James shakes his head and swallows hard looking down at his palms. He squeezes his eyes shut and when he opens again there are tears clinging to his lashes. 
“Fuck,” He exhales roughly.  Regulus tracks the movement of his hand as it reaches up to wipe them away. 
“Is there anything I can do?” Regulus asks not quite gently but something close. Gentle-adjacent which Regulus hopes James will understand to mean that he can see him struggling but can tell it might hurt even more to talk about it. 
When James stays quiet Regulus reaches out rubbing a hand in soft circles over his back. 
“I’m here,” He says carefully. Two words, a million mirrors of their past. All the times he found James crouched in dark corridors, tears wet on his face, “At least for now.” 
And then suddenly in the next breath, James is sobbing. Great, heaving sobs that wrack his entire body. The scary part is they're nearly silent. All Regulus can hear is his ragged breath, against the distant murmur of the pub around them. 
“It’s okay,” Regulus says softly, “This is okay.” 
And James leans into him, turns his face to the exposed skin of Regulus’s neck and gives in to his tears. 
Regulus can’t take his mind off of him. He focuses on the contour of his body, the press of his elbow and his hip. The softness of his shoulders. The dip of his waist. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve this. James here, touching him, one last time. 
“I can’t do it,” James murmurs against his skin. The brush of his lips feels electric. 
“What can’t you do?” Regulus whispers into his soft curls. 
“Any of it,” James’s voice cracks, “It’s too hard and everyone is dying and when I look around I can’t see anything but blood.” 
His words cut straight to Regulus’s core. He holds James close, rocking him slowly. 
“I can’t stop it,” James says breath hitching when he tries to get words out, “I can’t – I’m not good –” 
“Being good isn’t easy, you know,” Regulus says delicately, “That’s not what good is.” 
He thinks about the locket, about the cave waiting for him. An ache builds in the back of his throat
“It just doesn’t feel right,” James pulls away a bit looking up at him. His lip trembles and Regulus watches as he blinks new, hot tears, “This isn’t how it was supposed to be.” 
“Yeah,” Regulus admits, voice heavy. 
They sit in silence. Regulus feels James' body heat against him down to his bone marrow. He lets out a hot sigh against his neck and it gives Regulus goosebumps. He stares at the floor and tries desperately to reel back the roiling ache that has begun to crest in his chest. 
“I–” He starts, coughing to cover the crack in his voice, “I shouldn’t tell you this.” 
“What?” James asks, voice all sorrow and depth, so much so that it sends a spark right through Regulus’s core. 
“I’m going to do something,” Regulus pauses, trying to focus over the rabid beat of his heart, “To fix this. To change the war.” 
James looks up at him, his eyes wide and frantic. Regulus’s throat feels like it might close up. He takes a deep breath trying to focus on the way his ribcage expands against James’s body. 
“I can’t say any more,” Regulus tells him, “I just wanted –” 
But James doesn’t let him finish. Instead he wraps a warm palm around the back of Regulus’s neck and pulls him down. 
It happens because it has to. At least, that's the way it feels – like when Regulus walked into the pub tonight he’d started something inevitable, something so powerful there’s no point in fighting it. When James kisses him Regulus’s lips are already parted. 
They kiss soft and gentle. As if they have all the time in the world. All open mouths and tongues sliding together, the bitter taste of whiskey and Regulus sliding his eyes shut as James’s fingers stretch up tugging at his curls. 
James pulls away first. 
Regulus tracks his gaze over his face, pupils blown sky-wide, lips parted. There’s something in James’s brown eyes that sticks somewhere deep inside of him. 
Without speaking James reaches out and grasps Regulus’s hand in his. Before Regulus can sort through his racing thoughts James is pulling him up, tugging him out the back door of the pub, into the alleyway. 
James just kissed him, he thinks numbly, stumbling on the cobblestones. James just kissed him. 
Suddenly James stops walking and Regulus bumps into him. James turns to face him and then they’re standing only a few inches apart. Regulus watches as James’s chest heaves, as he sucks the cold air through his full lips.
They don’t talk. Instead, their bodies move in again, like they’re pulled by magnets. Regulus keeps his eyes open this time, watches the reflection of the lamplight in James' dark irises. 
He has tears in his eyes, Regulus thinks. He has lighting in his palms. 
This time when James kisses him it feels like they’re on the edge of a cliff, with a strong wind blowing, each gust pushing them closer to the edge. 
Regulus lets James push his hands up and under his coat, against his back. His fingers are cold and he gasps as they dip once, twice below the band of his pants, sending sparks through his body. James shifts, pulling Regulus forward until he’s leaning back against the brick wall with Regulus flush against him, until Regulus has one thigh between James’ legs. 
James moans softly as he presses closer so Regulus kisses down his throat sucking hard below his jaw. James’ fingers tighten in his hair and his other hand comes to Regulus's neck. His thumb brushing over Regulus’s collarbones, over his windpipe.  Regulus groans, pressing in harder, his mind a scrambled pool of half formed thoughts. He wants everything james will give him, he wants, he want, he wants – 
Before he knows it he’s on his knees. The cobblestone presses sharp into his kneecaps hard enough to leave bruises 
“Look at me,” James’ voice is low, a strain on his words. He tangles his hands through Regulus’s curls and tugs his head back sharply. 
Regulus lets out a gasp as James towers over him. The sight of him is fathomless, all consuming. He tracks his eyes over James’ flushed cheeks and dark eyes and he can’t wait to make him fall apart. 
Regulus moves his hands forward cupping James hips. A breath punches out of James’ chest in a ragged gasp and he presses forward letting Regulus’ lips ghost over the rough fabric of his pants. Swiftly Reaches up, fumbling for a second with the clasp of James’ muggle jeans. 
Regulus can’t think, he’s lost in James’ smell, in the taste of his lips, in the sharp edges of his fingertips as they dig into his scalp. Finally Regulus gets the clasp open and pulls the fabric away to press a kiss to James’s delicate tan skin. 
He’s licking a strip across James’s abdomen when he pushes him away. 
He’s breathing like he’s run a mile. His hair curling over his forehead and Regulus feels his body twitch with the urge to get up and brush it back out of his face. James stares at him and Regulus feels shaky, sick to his stomach, uncertain in a way he hasn’t felt since he first walked in and saw James sitting at the bar. 
“Fuck,” James says roughly, hitting the wall behind him with his fist. 
Regulus wants to say something. He wants to tell him – what? To come back? That he won’t tell anyone? It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters because he’s on his knees in an alleyway and James Potter is pushing him away. 
James looks at the ground, his hands loose at his sides, his jaw tight. 
Right, Regulus has the sudden urge to laugh hysterically.  How could he have thought this would end any other way? This is how it goes. This is how it has always been. He pushes himself to his feet and they stand across from each other in silence. 
“I’m sorry,” James’ voice shakes, “Fuck, Reggie. I’m so so sorry.” 
Regulus takes one deep breath, then another. He swallows the lump in his throat. 
“I –,” James breaks off, a tear spills from his eyes and tracks down his cheek, “I want this, I want you. But I can’t –” his voice breaks, “I can’t do this. It’s too late. It’s too late and I wish it wasn’t.” 
“It’s okay,” Regulus says, and he hates himself. Hates himself for letting this happen. Hates himself for telling James Potter that it’s okay that he’s breaking his heart. 
“It’s not,” James says, “It’s not, and you don’t deserve this. I’m no good Reggie. I can’t do anything right –” He sags back against the brick wall as he dissolves into tears. 
“I get it,” Regulus steps back. His whole body feels numb. 
“You don’t,” James’s voice is wrecked, husky with sorrow at every syllable, “Regulus, Lily’s pregnant,” He pauses, wiping tears from his cheek, “It’s mine.” 
Regulus flinches back, his eyes blown wide, he doesn’t bother to conceal the shock on his face. 
“What the fuck James. That would have been a good thing to know half an hour ago,” He spits, his stomach a writhing pit of anger and sorrow. “Are you with her?” 
“I don’t know,” James murmurs, not making eye contact, “It’s complicated.” His voice is faint, small in a way that Regulus has never heard before. 
“James. Fuck. You never should have touched me.” Regulus is seconds away from breaking down; he can feel the tears build behind his eyes. 
“I know,” James’ tone is pleading now, “I’m sorry Reggie. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.” 
Regulus doesn’t know what to say. He watches in silence as James pushes himself up off the wall. 
“I’m sorry,” James repeats brokenly, “I’ll go.” 
Regulus almost stops him. Almost. 
Instead, he watches James walk slowly down the alley, his shoulders hunched, his silhouette fragile against the bright street lamps. 
All the almost’s they’ve ever had shimmer in the air between them. 
Regulus wants to remember, wants to forget all at the same time. 
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ravena-wrote · 1 year
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Can someone plz tell me who had died so far in crimson rivers by zeppazariel? I want to read it so bad but I just need to know who dies before I can commit to it lol. I would be so grateful if someone who’s reading it could let me know!!
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ravena-wrote · 2 years
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“Well, you’ve changed,” Harry says simply, he pauses for a second and then flinches slightly as if hit with a sudden thought. “You know, he might not forgive you for leaving Lily. You need to be prepared for that.”
His words hit Regulus like a punch to the gut. Of course James won’t forgive him. He’s always had the privilege of hope, the ability to circumvent regret. And it’s not fair because undoubtedly he’ll fail to recognize the bigger picture. He’ll refuse to believe that everyone he loves is predestined for death. He’ll think that if he can just try harder, and do better, and give more, he’ll receive the happy ending he deserves. It makes Regulus’s blood boil.
“You’re right,” Regulus clenches his jaw.
“So wherever you take him will need to have anti-aperation wards,” Harry tells him calmly, “And you’ll need to take his wand away.”
“You’re not against this?” Regulus asks him, surprised, “You just told me that your dad will hate me for what I’m about to attempt and you’re still telling me to do it?”
“Regulus,” Harry says softly, “I’d rather have one parent someday than no parents at all.” He coughs but it doesn’t cover the crack in his voice, “If things get bad remind him about me. Tell him I need him.”
Continue reading here
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ravena-wrote · 2 years
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He sags against the side of the bed and runs his fingers delicately over his temples in an attempt to soothe the splitting ache. The hangings in the room look different then he remembers. He kicks a book across the floor and watches it land in a puff of dust.
Sirius walked out of this room for the last time with a single backpack of clothes.
Regulus knows because he’d been there. He’d watched as Sirius stepped past him out of the hallway, his face carefully blank. That’s when the feeling had taken root, twisting in his gut and putting out tendrils. Regulus thinks some might call it jealousy but, couldn’t he also call it faith? To believe that there was a better ending out there for him somewhere?
“I did it,” Regulus says softly. There’s something blooming in his chest that he hasn’t felt in years. “I did it,” Regulus repeats louder. He can feel tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. He blinks them back and straightens up. If he knows anything it’s that this isn’t where it ends.
from my wip: when you go (leave your shadow behind) 
Read More Here 
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ravena-wrote · 2 years
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“Hello? Hello in thereeee,” she screeches. Regulus winces and opens his eyes. He can’t wait them out forever.
“See I knew he was awake,” she calls triumphantly over her shoulder.
The boy walks forward into his line of sight and Regulus twitches hard enough that the ropes dig painfully into his skin.
He’s James but also… decidedly not. His shoulders are a little slimmer and his hair a little curlier. He’s all Potter cheekbones and mouth but his tan complexion is a shade lighter than James. As he walks closer, Regulus notices he carries himself with straight backed precision. Nothing like the lackadaisical stroll that's so familiar. When he bends closer his eyes catch the light and burn a brilliant green.
Regulus catches his gaze and holds it. The boy’s gaze sharpens even though his face stays deliberately blank.
“Who are you?” He breathes, he can feel his hands trembling.
“I think I’m the one that should be asking you that.” The boy’s tone is carefully flat.
“I don’t know about that,” Regulus replies, cocking his eyebrow, “after all you’re the one in my house.”
The girl gasps. The boy looks at her quisically and shrugs, turning back to him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I live here.”
Excerpt from my wip piece: when you go (leave your shadow behind)
Read Here
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ravena-wrote · 2 years
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Voldemort lifts his wand, murmurs an incantation, and the pain starts. Regulus struggles against it. He locks his muscles tight and clenches his jaw. He keeps his face carefully vacant. If there's one thing he’s been told about the dark mark it’s that taking it shouldn’t hurt. Not if he’s agreed to it. Not if this is what he wants. He closes his eyes and loses himself as the pain rips through him.
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ravena-wrote · 2 years
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“Don’t give me that.” James corners him against the wall, his voice rising.  “Merlin, you know I’m so tired of this. Do you see what we do to Severus every day for the way he acts? And you’re just as bad as him.” He pauses. 
Regulus tries to say something but his tongue feels numb and clumsy in his mouth.
“You know what, maybe you’re worse,” James continues quieter, “because you know what you’re doing is wrong but you’re too scared to change.” He shoves Regulus in the chest and he stumbles backwards, his back hitting the wall in a solid thump.
“I’m sorry,” Regulus whispers. “But you know I don’t have a choice.”
“That's the thing,” James hisses, “You do. I keep hoping you’ll understand but I’m realizing that you’re nothing like Sirius, you’ll never be like him. And it’s killing me because I still love you. That’s the worst part about this.” His voice cracks, furious tears cling to his eyelashes. “I love you Regulus and I don’t deserve it. He pulls away, stepping neatly backwards. “This is not what I deserve.”
Regulus stands frozen against the wall as James stalks down the hallway. Love, he thinks numbly, is that what this is?
An excerpt from my new wip: when you go (leave your shadow behind) 
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ravena-wrote · 2 years
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when you go (leave your shadow behind) 
pairing: Regulus Black/James Potter, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
summary:
The door opens and the light from the hall pours through, illuminating a silhouette. Regulus feels the air freeze in his lungs as he tracks his gaze frantically over rumpled brown hair and wide eyes.
“James!? What are you doing here?” His voice comes out a croak, cracked and an octave too low. Hesitantly he steps closer only to find himself twisted backwards and slammed violently against the wall.
“I’m not James.” The boy says roughly, his green eyes flashing as he jabs his wand directly into Regulus’s neck. “James is dead.”
Read on AO3
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ravena-wrote · 2 years
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Maybe when the stakes become most violent is when we become what we resemble most, Regulus thinks. He stares into the cool gray eyes of his mother until the pain knocks his legs out from under him and he tumbles unceremoniously onto the floor.
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ravena-wrote · 2 years
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When people ask how I am doing I want to say 
i think i will spend the rest of my life in a flinch. on the edge of a precipice. counting all the almosts and shivering in the silent air where your name echoes like a gunshot.
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ravena-wrote · 2 years
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Awwww I’m so glad you enjoy my writing 💜🧡
Harry would prefer to spend the entire night glued to Draco’s side listening to him gossip with Theo about Kingsley’s extracurricular activities, or watching him aggressively teaching Ginny how to tango, but eventually he gets ripped away by Dean who needs an emergency consult on if Seamus is flirting with him or not, and the conversations seems to take about three hundred years so by the time it’s finished Draco’s been swallowed up by the crowd.
When Harry finds him he’s in the back of the pub by the pool tables. Pansy is perched on the edge of the one next to him, her feet kicking back and forth rhythmically. As Draco speaks to her she leans forward exposing more cleavage than Harry had ever thought possible. She tosses her long dark hair over her shoulder and blinks up at him.
No way, Harry’s not stupid. He knows what it looks like when someone’s trying to pull. He strides confidently towards them and wraps a casual hand around Draco’s side, slotting in next to him. Draco’s body relaxes immediately. He looks away from Pansy and runs his fingers carefully through Harry’s hair. Harry watches as Pansy’s eyes narrow and then widen.
Read full work here 
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ravena-wrote · 2 years
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Omg this is so so sweet ❤️ I’m so flattered to be on this list with such amazing blogs. Thank youuuuu
no matter how cool we try to act every single one of us has had a moment where some blog we looked up to followed us back and we felt for a second like we truly made it
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ravena-wrote · 2 years
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A fluffy fic for the @drarrymicrofic prompt: Angel Baby by Troye Sivan. I love Troye so this was such a fun prompt to do! Hope you all enjoy this piece :) 
Draco shows up drunk. Harry can tell he’s drunk because he opens the front door and immediately stumbles straight into the umbrella holder. There’s a small grin on his lips and when Harry reaches over to help him up Draco leans into his chest and his lips stretch wider. Harry watches as his smile grows teeth. 
“Congratulations,” Draco whispers, his hot breath tickling Harry’s ear. 
“Congratulations on what?” Harry asks just as quietly. He leans in, watches Draco’s lashes flutter dark against his opalescent skin. 
“Having the hottest boyfriend ever, of course,” Draco says flippantly. He shifts backing up slightly to shimmy off his tailored suit jacket. 
“Obviously,” Harry chuckles. He takes the cloth from Draco’s hands and settles in gently on the coat rack. 
Draco crowds back into his space. His hand falls to Harry’s solar plexus pushing him back against the wall. 
When their eyes meet Harry’s breath catches. When their lips meet his chest relaxes all at once in a muffled gasp. Harry likes the idea that Draco’s body has become his breath, that with every rise and fall of his lungs Draco’s pulse will beat faster. 
He thinks he could stand here forever, the hard wall digging into his back, his body cradled in the careful warmth of Draco’s arms.
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ravena-wrote · 2 years
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Her Loss
People expect her suffering to be beautiful,  like death floats in on gossamer wings and she mourns  by a windowsill, her tears few and far between, meaningful like diamonds, even her grief must be free of flaws,  her loss becomes a sacrifice, an inspiration, afterwards  she will volunteer at a soup kitchen, run a marathon, become a doctor, a therapist, a silent wife. She finds herself  in the quiet, she is always lurking in the dark, every gentle word she speaks feels like screaming into an empty hallway, she bites her tongue until it bleeds and everyone calls her  strong.
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ravena-wrote · 2 years
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An Ode to My Regret After Olivia Gatwood 
You wilting white lily blooming fresh in my lungs,  pity driven traveler hiking desert with no trail, I could  describe you forever as a ghost, I could learn  the name of every trip and tear of you,  but I know you my sodden heart, my fingers  scratched angry and raw from your sandpaper, are more than they pin you as, because what are you if not a recognition,  that maybe we had something good once,  like when you tumbled head first off the back of Eli’s bike and afterwards  with tears in your eyes, you smiled  and told me that it felt like flying, crimson trickled down your legs and stained the thick cream carpet but the next summer  your skin had budded and opened into a rose of a scar,  you are born from an ending,  I would never have been ready for, you sucker punch  intruder, gentle fingers picking all the locks,  taking everything and leaving only flowers, this house is full to bursting with your scent, now, when I look at my reflection you look back at me, scarlet lips and pointed teeth,  your bite would teach anyone to bleed, I only forgive you  in the soft dusk, you set my body down gently,  and I dissolve, when I wake I will find myself again in the deep blue of your eyes
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ravena-wrote · 2 years
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Another fic for the @drarrymicrofic prompt: shattered. As always with my first person pieces thanks to @phoebe-delia for the amazing advice, you can find their post on how to write in first person here
I am not totally whole yet but I am the next best thing.
By the next best thing, I mean that I am alive and I am drunk and I cannot even feel pain as I watch the bright red blood drip down my knuckles and pool on the wooden table. 
Draco is beside me. I watch as he tips a shot back past glistening lips. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. 
I want to reach out and touch him but I’m worried that someone will watch the red stains of my fingers press against his opalescent skin and tell me that I am staining everything. 
I am always staining everything. 
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