#hrhr

damian: where did you get those?

megumi: my dad left them for me

damian: and where did he get everything?

megumi: stole most of them, took the rest of the people he killed.

damian: well, can he get some of these for me as well??

megumi: nah sorry, he's dead lmao

later

dick: damian, why are we buying flowers?

damian: i've heard it's the proper way to mourn someone we miss.

dick: damian what? who died??

damian: a great man. too soon he left us.

Big thanks to the wonderful @the-starryknight for their weekly TLC posts and to @isamijoo for thinking of me 🥰. We are supposed to self-rec this week — something we're proud of and/or something we'd like a little more love on. I'm self-reccing the second long fic I've ever written, Hands Red, Hands Red. Writing this fic felt like a breakthrough in my writing journey. I was a little afraid of writing dark fics at first as I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, but with great encouragement from the fandom, I was able to finish this fic and I'm incredibly proud of it. It's my favourite fic that I've written to this day and it's very dear to my Dark! Harry-loving heart.

Excerpt (NSFW):

“Potter,” he warns. Potter doesn’t make any further movements. “You are aware that Weasley can see us from the window, yes?”

“He can’t,” Potter says in a hushed tone. “I’ve disillusioned the space underneath the table.”

“He can hear us,” Draco swallows, digging his nails into his palms in mild frustration.

Potter cocks his head, determination in his hard eyes. “Not if you stay quiet,” he says in a low voice. Draco nearly draws blood in his palms. “Can you do that for me, Draco ? Can you be good for me?”

Note: Please don't skip the tags if you want to read this fic as it can contain potential triggers!

Read Hands Red, Hands Red on Ao3