#trish writes

A Ferret, a ScarHead, a Weasel, and a Baby

FIND IT HERE ON AO3

Summary:   Tala wants to help get information on the assassin, but finds Revas isn't quick to trust; Paeris and Revas have a discussion.

Content Warnings: reference to gore and amputation; harm to a minor; language; standard dark fantasy fare

Author’s Notes: Mmmm yeah here’s an update. Sorry this isn’t more consistent, but life is never consistent, right? I’ll post when I have a couple of chapters in my belt and not a day before. 

Credits: Ellya, Tala, and all of Clan Abersher’al are the work of @billowsandbreeze​.

Excerpt:

The sounds of Gherlanna’s protests reached their ears from outside as the Ethinan dragged her into the training grounds. Revas seemed to look even more perturbed as she made her discomfort loudly known.

Tala would have to move quickly. Levity wasn’t going to work today.

“She’s going to make trouble for you, you know.” She gave him a taste of what she could offer.

“Of course she will,” he answered. “She’s a Keeper—they aren’t used to people questioning the power they think they have.”

Tala frowned. “Think they have? I’ve seen really bad things turned to piles of dust when Gherlanna gets to them before my people do. There’s no ‘think’. What she has is real. ”

Revas rocked on the stool across from her. “Keeper Elindra made clear she wants no more magic used during this trial. Gherlanna will heel, just like she’s been told.” He leaned in on his elbows, pushing his chest forward on the table. “She’s toothless without Elindra’s acceptance, and she knows it.”

“Which is why she’ll cause you a headache,” Tala pointed out. “She barks in Elindra’s ears about her mistreatment and the High Keeper decides to censure anyone involved.”

He sat silent for a few heartbeats, then his sour face slowly opened up into a malicious chuckle.

“You think I give a single fuck about a censure? Someone tried to kill my wife and almost killed my son in the process!” Revas’ voice rose with his anger at Tala’s warning. “You can’t think that’s what power is. You can’t think that a fucking censure is enough to stop me.”

Tala shrugged. “Maybe not. Can’t help but wonder what Elain would think, though.”

this is the first imagine i've ever written, so please go easy on me (〃￣ω￣〃ゞ

It was History class again.

Nene was already yawning multiple times. She had slept late last night because she was playing with Black Canyon the whole time.

Of course being her beloved hamster, she can't just say no.

She can feel her eyelids getting heavier each second.

Maybe she can just cover her face with her textbook? But she knew it would get her in trouble for sleeping in class.

Besides she was the aspiring intellectual, literary girl, Yashiro Nene!

But.. Sensei might not even notice if she..

Yawning one last time, she finally accepted defeat against her tiredness. She laid her head on her desk while holding up a textbook to cover her face.

10 seconds had barely passed when she suddenly felt fingers comb her hair.

Oh no.

Opening her eyes, she was immediately greeted by Hanako's big amber eyes.

"Yashiro~ Aren't you supposed to be listening in class?"

His face was close. Too close.

"H-Hanako-kun-"

"Shh!"

Hanako places a finger on her lips.

"Not so loud~"

Nene just glared at Hanako, pushing him away.

"What are you doing here, Hanako-kun?!"

To be honest, that was the angriest whisper Hanako has ever heard.

"Am I not allowed? I was getting lonely in the bathroom."

Then Hanako lays his chin on Nene's shoulder clearly trying to get her full attention.

"Why not just wait for me after classes then?"

"But I don't wanna wait too long~"

Nene didn't respond other than rolling her eyes which earned her a pout from him.

"Okay, okay! You can stay but don't bother me!"

He just spends the whole time playing with the strands of her hair.

Nene doesn't know why but his actions made her heart beat faster. But still, he wasn't her type or anything..

"Oh yeah, I forgot something."

Snapping out of her thoughts, she faced the ghost boy.

"What is it-"

Suddenly, Hanako leans in and places a kiss on her cheek.

What.

Even though her cheeks are already turning pink, she shook her head.

"Is there an apparition affected by rumors again? Why giving me a protective charm?"

Hah! In his face, she thought. She won't be fooled by him again.

But Hanako just grins at her.

"Oh, no there isn't. I actually just wanted to kiss you."

"E-EHHHHH?!"

She immediately stands up from her chair, touching her cheek.

"Yashiro-san? Is something wrong? Your face is a bit red, do you want to visit the clinic?"

"N-No thank you, Sensei. I'm fine"

She sits back down. Looking away at Hanako because he was wearing this stupid smirk on his face.

"I'm sure that would help you stay awake, Yashiro~"

I'm almost finished with this massive Drarry story + art that I've been working on, and I'm a bit nervous (and so thrilled, really! haha) to share it with you all! To ease into it, here's a little snippet + my Harry for you. I hope you enjoy it! xx

Many thanks to my lovely friends: beta reader @youknowyoudid and alpha reader @dewitty1. Ya'll are keeping me sane as we cross this finish line together! Love ya both, MWAH!

Summary: They say becoming a parent is an unparalleled, priceless joy. Draco Malfoy finds himself putting that theory to the test when the star witness in his dangerous illegal potions case entrusts him with a powerful wish: protect her newborn baby at all costs. Now, it's up to Draco to fulfill that wish despite the looming threat of criminals hunting for the child. To think, just the day before, he was fretting over his inappropriate feelings for his annoying, bespectacled git of a housemate—not the mechanics of changing nappies!

Thank Merlin it takes a village to raise a sack of flour, ah, child.

CW: smut. forced voyeurism.

Draco steps outside of the house, his hands and waist occupied by tiny humans.

“Woohoo! Draco!”

He winces as Mrs Pumpernickel makes her way across the street, one perfectly manicured hand raised, waving at him as if she were the Queen of England herself. Her perfect curls bounce across her equally perfect powdered face, her kitten heels clicking loudly as she walks. “I saw you and Harry earlier bringing in those lovely hydrangeas! Do you need any advice—”

“No, no,” Draco forces out a chuckle. “Not at all, Mrs Pumpernickel, thank you!” Draco calls back, hoping this will deter her.

It doesn’t.

He breaks his eye contact with her to instead usher his children towards the monstrosity of a Muggle contraption Harry insisted that they purchase and that Draco properly learn how to use.

As he buckles Lily into her car seat, Scorpius and Albus begin to shove one another in the chest as they fight over a toy. He ignores their scuffle to ensure Lils is safely fastened. Mrs Pumpernickel swoops in then, her dated, heavy, musky, woody perfume filling Draco’s nostrils.

She smirks at him, shaking her head as her gaze sweeps over Draco’s boys. “Oh, Draco! You must pay attention to them!” she giggles. “Aren’t they just little barbarians?”

Draco carefully pulls his head from out of the car, straightening up to his full height. One hand finds its way to his hip, the other resting on the roof of the SUV as he quirks an eyebrow. “Pardon me?” he asks, voice flat.

Mrs Pumpernickel smiles blandly at him, eyes glinting. “Oh. You know what I mean, don’t fuss. Boys will be boys, after all,” she shrugs, her eyes now fixed behind Draco, on the house. “Where’s that delicious husband of yours?” she asks, craning her neck.

Draco’s nostrils flare. “Harry is at work,” he says pointedly. He’s sure she has their schedule down-packed by now.

Mrs Pumpernickel shakes her head. “Oh, Draco! I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—I can’t believe Harry leaves you alone so much, and with all the babies! How unfortunate!” she cries out dramatically, her eyes widening.

Draco blinks slowly. He’s sure she spends most of her time watching his family over her own. Mrs Pumpernickel is in her late 50s, already divorced three times and on her fourth husband, and has an adult son from her first marriage that never visits. She has no bloody right to comment on his family dynamics.

“Harry works to support our family, Mrs Pumpernickel,” Draco responds, now turning to face his boys. He wrests free the toy they’re both clinging onto and then hoists them up, one at a time, into the car to strap them into their own car seat.

“I just feel like he can show you more attention, that’s all.”

When Draco finishes with the last child, he straightens up once more, fixing Mrs Pumpernickel with a frozen smile. An idea strikes him.

“Why don’t you come by later today, say, around 7? I’m about to take the kids to their grandmother’s house for the weekend. You won’t want to miss what Harry and I will be serving tonight,” Draco says, his eyes dancing.

Mrs Pumpernickel looks beside herself. “Oh, Draco!” she exclaims, her eyes lighting up. “I would be so honoured to be your guest! I’ve always wondered what your interior looks like! I would love to make some suggestions, too. You know how it goes, you can never trust two men to be completely tasteful in their décor. You need a woman’s touch, always!”

Draco smiles wider. “Yes, right. Well. Come by later. You’ll see how much of a woman’s touch Harry and I need.”

Mrs Pumpernickel beams, nodding vigorously. “Of course, of course! 7 on the dot, darling! I’ll bring a pie!”

Before Draco can respond, she’s already making her way back across the street to her own house.

Draco cackles.

------------------------

At approximately 6:50pm, Harry has Draco naked and draped over the arm of their sofa that directly faces their bay windows, the curtains pulled open as Harry fucks him from behind.

“Fuck…fuck! Harry, don’t stop!” Draco cries, sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead.

“Yes,” Harry hisses. “You feel so fucking amazing, Draco,” Harry groans, his hands gripping Draco’s hips as he rocks his hips forward, Draco pushing back into each thrust with a sharp, uninhibited moan. “Want the whole neighbourhood to know how well fucked I leave you every morning, noon, and night.”

“Fuck, yes,” Draco whines, hands gripping the edge of the nearest sofa cushion. “Fuck, she’ll, mmm, she’ll tell all the fucking neighbours! Ah…she’ll tell all the fucking neighbours how fucking rough my delicious husband gives it to me!”

“Draco!” Harry cries out, curling over him, breaths coming out in short pants as his pelvis slaps against Draco’s arse.

A few choice spells have all but one individual able to see their antics. Draco is rewarded when he looks up at the window, his gaze meeting Mrs Pumpernickel’s.

He knew she would be there, standing in the middle of their yard, peering into their window instead of ringing the doorbell first. He has her exactly where he wants her.

Whatever pie she had made goes sliding from her hands and onto the grass, horror beautifully painting her powdery face. Despite his wanton haze, Draco’s lips twist into a savage grin that quickly turns into an open-mouthed gasp as he comes across the arm of the sofa, his vision blackening. Harry follows after him with a wild laugh.

When Draco finally gains his bearings, he notices that Mrs Pumpernickel is gone. Harry pulls him up and turns him around for a deep kiss.

“Fuckin’ suburbia,” Harry says against his mouth.

Draco grins, shaking his head.

“Fuckin’ suburbia,” he repeats, leaning back in for another kiss.