*Nominated finalist* in the "after all this time" 2017 Spring fanfiction Dramione awards in x2 categories:
"Big surprises come in small packages...best mini fic."
"A cruel twist of fate...best dystopian fic."
Hello! GiTG here - Lets take a walk on the dark side...
Proceed with caution. Dark, possessive, and definitely fucked up. OCL is a creative dramatisation. I will tell you now that this is not a HEA. This does contain violence against women.
***I am not glorifying domestic violence!***
Triggers: Rape, dubcon, bloodplay, knifeplay, sarctification, vengeance, !possesive Draco, character death, obliviation, graphic descriptions. I'm not going to post these warnings for each chapter, this is the only warning. These themes are strong throughout, so if that's not for you, please avoid reading OCL.
As with AUs, you can expect OOC. Hermione does get dark in this.
This story is complete and coming across from my A03. It was very emotionally draining at times writing this. The first 5 chapters I wrote it to Halsey's "Badlands" album on repeat lol.
I appreciate you leaving a review if you see fit x
OCL was beta'd by the one and only Mr Benzedrine X
This chapter is pretty much straight into the action. Don't hate me. Disclaimer: Jk Rowling owns. The plot is mine...
She gasped for air, coughing and sputtering, lost somewhere in between being choked and pounded. She knew she shouldn't enjoy it, but she did.
Thrust .
"I know you like it like this Granger."
Thrust .
"...just like this."
He quickened his pace.
Thrust .
"I forbid you to hold back. I'm balls deep in you, and you like it. Lose yourself. Tell me you like it."
His grip around her neck tightened.
"I command you."
Tears streamed down Hermione's face. She loved him undoubtedly, but when she looked deep into his eyes, she'd feared what she'd see. A monster... She refused to comply with his request, and his eyes drifted from stormy grey to cold stone slate.
He released his grip around her neck, and Hermione thrashed about wildly while she remained pinned to the floor underneath him.
Smack .
His hand whipped across her cheek, and the force behind it threw her entire face to her side.
"That's what you get for disobeying me. Submit or feel my wrath. Don't make me hurt you again."
"Draco, please. Stop this. Not like this, please," Hermione pleaded through muffled sobs.
Draco stopped mid thrust. He withdrew from her immediately, and his anger overtook his desire for her. Consumed by his fury of her non-compliance, he took a moment to himself, pacing naked, back and forth, glaring at her.
She gulped preparing herself for what's to come. Draco hated it when she didn't submit.
"You know you have to receive your punishment."
"No, I don't Draco. Just stop. Please."
Draco tilted his head to the side, looking at her with great interest.
"Yes, I do. It's okay. You don't have to love me."
"But you know I do..."
Draco scoffed.
"If you did you, would submit to my demands. Instead, you play these shitty little games, Granger. The only conclusion I have is that you are a masochist, because no one would be foolish enough to repeat their mistakes as often as you did with the torture I make you endure. "
"Draco I-"
"-You know I have a weakness for making you scream."
Hermione gulped. Her body trembled all over. Mentally, she tried to prepare herself; physically, she just wanted it to be over. Her heart, however, said to give into him and relish the moment. She felt wicked. Pleasure vs. pain, and she was on the train; a one-way ticket to hell, and she dripped with anticipation at the thought of what he'd do to her after enduring his punishment.
"I desire very little, but the things I do... consume me. You consume me, and I want to consume you. What consumes your mind controls your life. And I know just how I'm going to damage you today."
Hermione laid on the floor, somewhere between being paralysed in fear and desperate to accept her punishment to please. Some would call this abuse, but she merely called it love. Love made you do crazy things, and Draco Malfoy was crazy. Crazy in love with her. And she was addicted to his kind of crazy.
"Some call it torture, but I call it foreplay," said Draco as he summoned his wand. He transfigured it into a large carving knife and ran his finger along its blade. It cut him deep. A steady stream of crimson trickled down and dripped off his finger.
He approached Hermione, still naked; the contrast of his white skin against the shimmery crimson liquid dripping off his finger trailed down his leg and glistened in the moonlight peeking through the window.
He kneeled beside Hermione and urged her to sit up. She did so, diligently. He grabbed the back of her head, forcing her to look into his eyes. He took his bloody finger and swiped it effortlessly across her juicy bottom lip, in doing so smearing his crimson all over her.
Hermione continued to stare at him while his blood dribbled down her chin. Draco pulled her lips apart ever so slightly and gently rubbed her lip back and forth.
"Take my finger like you would my cock."
Willingly, she parted her mouth, inviting his bloody finger inside. She took the tip of his finger between her lips and diligently slid it into her mouth, sucking back the slick metallic liquid on his finger and massaging his finger with her tongue. Moving back and forth, she allowed his finger to fuck her mouth while she sucked and pulled and swirled her tongue around it.
Draco withdrew his finger from her mouth and tossed the carving knife in his other hand.
"Lay down," he commanded.
Hermione submitted.
Draco was still kneeling beside her. He ran the carving knife along the inside of her thigh, smearing remnants of his blood on the way, and Hermione instinctively parted her legs. He continued gliding the knife over her hips and finding her belly button; it trailed up to her stomach and rested under her left breast. The knife was angled to slice her, but it didn't.
The sharp blade was surprisingly cool as it gracefully glided up her left breast, tracing the outline of her areola. Draco pressed the knife tip into her; Hermione flinched at the surprised pressure, and a small bead of blood appeared.
Draco climbed on top of Hermione, straddling her as he went. He leaned over her; his face hovered inches from her left breast, and he licked his lips before diving face first into her tit, nuzzling her. He stopped abruptly to admire his handy work. The skin of her breast flushed pink, and the small pool of blood smeared over his face and her. Small droplets of her blood continued to pulse out of her, and he lapped at her pierced skin, tasting her blood like it was forbidden wine.
He nibbled on her stiff nipple, gently taking it between his teeth, biting, tugging and sucking it until he felt her shake beneath him.
Hermione was about to speak when Draco suddenly snapped upwards at her movement. In one swift swipe, he grabbed the knife and held the blade to her throat, applying enough pressure to scare her, but not enough to cut her.
"I could slit your throat, you know."
Hermione winced at his words: spoken without a care in the world, and it scared her. She shuddered. She didn't realise she had been holding her breath until she forced her mouth open to inhale the crisp air.
Draco's voice was as sharp as the crisp air that engulfed them. "Anyone here can kill you," he stated. His eyes raped her body. As he took in a lengthy breath, he leaned closer to her and whispered, "But I can do it the most efficiently."
Hermione sobbed, wracked with emotion, and she fought back the tears that slowly built behind her sobs.
Draco laughed mercilessly. He crashed his lips onto hers, not giving her a chance to take a breath. She tasted like home to him and wanted to suck the life out of her. He pinched his fingers over the tip of her nose, blocking her from breathing as he continued to kiss her. His passion intensified as Hermione's eyes reflected sheer terror, and he wondered how long it would take to bring her to the brink of death. He fantasised about it while he lost himself.
It wasn't until her face started going blue that he finally let go of her nose. He pulled away, giving her a chance to recover, and Hermione gasped for precious air at his release.
He transfigured the knife back to his wand; a flick of his wrist and a gag appeared. Instantly, it wrapped itself around Hermione's mouth.
He needed something more delicate for his next task, so he transformed his wand into a small silver dagger. Draco sat back and admired the blade. After so many nights using it on her, he'd grown rather attached to it. He felt extreme pride remembering all the ways he'd pushed her beyond her limits, and tonight was no different.
He twirled the silver dagger around his fingers thrice and then rested the blade upon his temple. His eyes raped her body once more, and his gaze stopped to admire his previous work: the word "mine" carved into the base of her neck -a sweet spot of Hermione's, so naturally he wanted to claim that part of her.
He could remember her screams clearly from that day. It was somewhere in between cries of pleasure and excruciating pain, but he loved every minute of it. He fucked her up the arse after that while he sucked that sweet spot on her neck, and he did so until she screamed his name.
He smirked to himself at the thought.
Having made a decision, Draco rolled off Hermione and levelled himself with her thighs. He swiped a finger up her slit and rested a firm finger on her clit. She parted her legs like magic. It always pleased him how her body responded to his touch.
He tilted his head to the side to get a better view of her pussy before his eyes fell on her luscious thighs. 'Yes, this is the spot,' he thought to himself.
Draco summoned a small phial of green and silver liquid and a black marble bowl. He poured the liquid into the bowl sparingly and stirred it clockwise - twice, with the dagger. The liquid swirled around the bowl and then meshed together, turning into a pure, glittering white substance. He bathed the dagger in it entirely before removing it and took the blade to her inner right thigh. He didn't hesitate to pierce her flesh.
He took his time carving the D; he was marking such a beautiful part of her body, and he wanted to ensure his markings were nothing short of perfection. They were, of course, permanent.
Hermione's screams could be heard through her gag as the dagger expertly sliced her flesh. She clenched her fists at her sides, her nails digging deeply into the palms of her hands as the rest of her body laid rigid on the floor. The blade of the dagger soaked in a potion designed to burn carvings into her flesh.
Hermione loathed this part most.
She was crippled by the agony. The corrosive substance oozed its way into her skin, and the burn of it felt excruciating. She would, honestly, rather experience the Cruciatus Curse than endure this. It was sick and twisted. However, she couldn't help but feel pleased to bare another mark of his own doing. It made her feel special, wanted and loved even, and she took comfort in knowing that.
Draco had begun to carve the M into her thigh...