Lizzyburrr
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“Address. Me. Properly.”
“Yes, Sir.”
The words left her easily—she had been yearning to say them for far too long.
“I believe I made myself abundantly clear before I left.”
He breathed deeply, his broad chest rising and falling slowly.
“Which brings me to my next question,” he reached out to rub the fabric between his fingers, eyes filled with contempt. “What, pray tell, are you wearing?”
- Language:
- English
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Bookmarked by Lizzyburrr
06 Jul 2026
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Through Narcissa Malfoy’s eyes, the war is more than darkness and blood — it is the fight to protect her son, her family and the fragile hope growing within her.
Narcissa clings to love as her greatest defiance. Her heart aches with loss, yet it beats fiercely for the future — for Draco, for Hermione, for the family she still hopes to have at the end.Bookmarked by Lizzyburrr
21 May 2026
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Cassiopeia Narcissa Malfoy disappeared when she was eight, several years after the war, Narcissa is finally brave enough to rehang their family tapestry. None of them expected her face to be looking back at them. How forgiving will she be once she realises who she is?
Rating is for language.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 20,515
- Chapters:
- 12/12
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Bookmarked by Lizzyburrr
14 May 2026
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- Words:
- 41,725
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
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Bookmarked by Lizzyburrr
13 May 2026
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Summary
The pain isn't the worst thing about the arrangement. There's the constant threat of the wooden pole right under Starling, and the way there are only the ropes supporting her body. If the mechanism fails… if the inquisitor's hands slip… Starling chokes on another sob and squeezes her eyes shut, but that only makes her more aware of the ropes biting into her flesh and the wooden poles keeping her limbs fixed into such a humiliating, helpless position.
"Are you ready to repent?" the inquisitor asks again and turns the winch slowly. His hands are steady and sure, the muscles in his bare arms bulging as he pauses to hold the winch in place. His face is hidden behind a black, featureless mask: only his eyes are visible. They are a startlingly pale shade of blue, as cold and unreadable as the winter sky as he observes Starling's suffering.
"F-fuck you," Starling spits out, a furious snarl replacing the despair on her face for a moment. "I will never… a-aah! Fuck, fuck! You m-monster!"
Bookmarked by Lizzyburrr
01 May 2026