#blaise zabini x y/n | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dreamcubed · 2 months

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false god | blaise zabini x reader

song; false god [taylor swift] pairing; blaise zabini x pure-blood!slytherin!fem!reader genre; arranged marriage, angst, hurt comfort, fluff, sort-of-e2l word count; 4,7k timeline; deathly hallows warnings; swearing, references to sex/hook-ups, references to battle injuries, questionable views on muggle-borns summary; you had been betrothed to blaise zabini practically your whole life, and while you moved in the same friend group, he had always avoided you. you tried to understand, you really did, but were you really so undesirable?

happy belated valentine's day!!

masterlist

"they say the road gets hard and you get lost when you're led by blind faith."

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The ring of plated white gold and emerald jewels had sat comfortably on your left ring finger ever since you had been big enough to wear it. It was worth a fortune, as your parents frequently reminded you, so it would be disrespectful to the Zabini family to not wear it with pride. You obeyed, even though Blaise - your affianced - had not worn his (more masculine) twin ring for as long as you had known him.

Sometimes you would catch the pitying looks of your mutual friends whenever the sun shone just right on the piece of jewellery, catching everyone's attention. They all knew that Blaise avoided you, never spoke to you, but it was an unspoken matter. You did your best to never show your hurt on your face, and be a strong and positive woman, like your parents had raised you to be.

You just wanted to make them proud.

It's not that you were in love with Blaise, not by any means. You would have to have actually spoken and bonded with the man to reach that stage. Regardless, rejection hurt, especially when you had no part in the arrangement of your marriage either. You were in the same position as he was, yet he acted as if you were at fault for the situation he found himself in.

You weren't a bad person, and you were at least decently attractive - was it really so bad to be betrothed to you? Why couldn't he just make the best of a bad situation and try to get to know you?

***

The Hogwarts Express had never been colder, even the warm red seats looked sallow and grey, reflecting the sullen looks on everyone's faces. You let out a sigh, pulling your thick jacket tighter around you and sinking into the cushions. Pansy was sat next to you, chewing on her lip thoughtfully as she stared at the water droplets cascading down the window. You hadn't said a word to each other apart from a greeting.

In fact, everyone on the train seemed to be sitting in silence.

Slytherin was the only house with almost full attendance from its students, as even the families who didn't support the death eaters felt confident in the safety of their children thanks to their blood status. The same couldn't not be said for the other houses, which had lost a good chunk of their students due to parental fears. Especially the muggle-borns - every single muggle-born you knew in your year had not shown up to catch the train.

It wasn't a mystery as to why: showing up to the school that was now overseen by Voldemort as a muggle-born was a death wish.

Despite its pure-blood status, your family didn't support Voldemort. That's not to say that they didn't have prejudices against muggle-borns, or that they would let you marry one, but they certainly didn't wish death upon them and would likely be okay with you befriending them. Just as long as you kept your bloodline pure.

The L/N family had remained a neutral party during the First Wizarding War, and were doing the same now during the second.

"Have you seen Draco?" Pansy asked, not even looking at you.

"I think I saw him at the platform at one point."

She hummed, and the silence fell again.

You began biting your nails.

***

The reign of Severus Snape as headmaster of Hogwarts had officially begun, casting an even more intense shadow over the school. As a Slytherin, this was actually quite good news, but you weren't so selfish that you could disregard the wellbeing of the other houses. Plus, the subject changes like Defence Against the Dark Arts becoming simply- the Dark Arts- were quite jarring.

"Can someone pass me the roast potatoes?" the emotionless voice of your fiancé rang out, signifying that he was talking to you. Normally, when talking to your other friends, he would smile, say please, even laugh. But when he was talking to you, he would do so indirectly and without emotion.

Sure enough, you were the person closest enough to the roast potatoes, but you decided to hold back in fulfilling his request, instead locking eyes with him. "Say please."

His eyes bored into yours for a few moments, before he scoffed and said, "Please."

"Was that so hard?" you mumbled, passing over the potatoes. Your friends had gone silent during the exchange, some of them sending pitiful glances your way. You were sick of being treated this way, both by Blaise and your friends, even if your friends did have good intentions.

You resumed your meal, aiming to at the very least enjoy the food of your last ever welcome feast at Hogwarts.

***

All you knew about Blaise was what your parents and friends had told you.

He was a pure-blood, and the son of a beautiful witch who had been widowed seven times under suspicious circumstances and become richer every time. As far as you could tell, it was highly likely that one of these dead husbands was Blaise's father. Admittedly, it made you nervous to marry into such a family, so perhaps it was a good thing that Blaise was so unwilling.

But your mother had told you that you had nothing to worry about, as Ms. Zabini only ever married bad men, and used it as a means to eradicate them.

"A noble cause."

Still, you had the rights to be nervous.

"Back to school party tonight," Millicent bounced up to you and announced, "Just us Slytherins."

"A party?" you had forgotten that such an event existed, given the misery of the world.

"I mean, yeah, we all need a pick-me-up," she shrugged, "It'll be in the common room. Bring firewhiskey."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, but ultimately decided that drunkenness was just what the doctor ordered.

***

In your defence, you had started off slow with the drinks, mixing with lemonade and gradually sipping over a long period of time. However, once that system had (slowly but surely) gotten you drunk, all bets were off.

"Shots!" someone had shouted, and next thing you knew you were downing your sixth shot, after however many mixed drinks you had.

You stumbled away from the dancers to where some of your friends sat chatting, having the sudden feeling that you weren't too far away from passing out.

"Pansy..." you slurred, flopping on to the sofa next to her.

"Salazar, Y/N, how much have you drunk?"

Ignoring her question, you mumbled, "I feel amazing."

"A little self-control next time, yeah?"

You waved her off, no longer feeling like you were about to pass out so stumbling to your feet. You looked around the room with your eyes squinted, deciding that another drink was an excellent idea.

As you were on your way over - your friends calling after you - your vision became blurrier, until you bumped into a hard chest.

"What the fuck?" you cursed, narrowing your eyes and looking up at the person who inconvenienced you.

"Zabini," you muttered.

"Should you be getting another drink?" he asked.

You blanked him, "Does it kill you to be nice to me?"

He said nothing, biting on his inner cheek.

That was when the feeling of passing out returned, only this time in tenfold, making you drop forward. Your eyelids were heavy, you had to close them, and your body was heavy too, too much effort to remain stood up...

The only things you remember seeing after that were flashes of the stairs down to the dormitories - but you weren't walking, so how was that possible? And then throwing up in a toilet bowl, with your hair for some reason out of the way.

And then cushions, and quilt. But not yours: they smelled gorgeous, so you nuzzled your head into the scent and sighed dreamily.

***

When your eyes slowly peeled themselves open the next morning, your head was pounding and you were quite disoriented. Initially, you seemed to be tucked up in your own bed, but upon closer inspection you realised that the forest green decor was not in the usual place of the Slytherin seventh year girls' dormitories. In fact, this was a room that you had never seen before.

"You're up."

Your eyes shot towards the entrance to the connected bathroom, and every limb in your body froze as you laid eyes upon Blaise Zabini, already showered and dressed even though it was a Saturday.

"What- I-" you stuttered, sitting up in bed. You were relieved to see that you were still in the party clothes from the night before: you weren't opposed to a hook-up, but you would've liked to remember it.

"Relax," he sighed, "You blacked out last night. Carried you down here because I can't go down the girls' stairs."

You nodded slowly, trying to piece together the events, "Right..."

He said nothing, moving over to the dresser to spray a fragrance on his wrists. He truly was your typical classy rich boy. You took this opportunity to look around at the other beds in the room, seeing that the curtains were drawn around one in particular.

"Your beloved Pansy is in there."

Salazar, had she and Draco had sex while you were sleeping in the same room?

"At the very least they put a sound-proofing charm on," Blaise confirmed that thought, and you couldn't help but remark that this was the most he had ever spoken to you.

"Where did you sleep?" you had to ask.

This time, Blaise blanked you, his dark oak eyes void of emotion.

"Next to you," he eventually said, making your breath hitch. "Like we're not engaged, L/N," he scoffed, making you scowl.

"Since when have you acted like it?"

He didn't reply, and you decided that if you let it escalate to an argument, you might wake up the others. So, you forced yourself out of bed, picking up your shoes and leaving without another word.

Walk of shame, here you come.

***

Typically, if one of the girls in your dorm stumbled in the morning after a party in their clothes from the night before, there would be immediate questions of what happened and with who. But, when you entered your dorm, you were met with silence. Partially because half of the girls were still asleep, but mainly because the girls who were awake avoided looking at you.

Daphne was the only one forward enough to say something. "I saw Blaise carry you down."

To be fair, that would explain the lack of questions about hook-ups. They hadn't suspected that the two of you had sex. You simply hummed in response, just wanting to strip yourself of your clothes and makeup and crawl under your own duvet.

But Daphne still wasn't forward enough to ask if that meant your engagement had become a less cold one, as that would be entering the territory of the unspoken agreement to never mention the elephant in the room of Blaise's unwarranted disdain for you.

So, you were able to settle into a new slumber unhindered.

***

The party had been a pleasant but unfortunately temporary distraction from the miserable atmosphere that was Hogwarts. Learning the dark arts made you feel dirty, unclean - like you were announcing to the whole world that you were a death eater. You knew you weren't, and that you would never receive the Dark Mark, but you couldn't help but feel like a bad person.

You knew, however, that being a Slytherin meant the other houses looked at you with disdain, and also that many of your friends weren't entirely opposed to the Dark Lord's cause. It was something that made you sick to your stomach, yet you refused to voice these thoughts to anyone.

Not even Christmas could cheer you up, when before the colourfully decorated castle walls had filled you with a joy like no other. It didn't even feel like Christmas, it was as if all the saturation in the world had been lost, leaving behind a cold, dull grey hue. You had never been so sure of the fact that you would go home for Christmas than you were that year. At least your home wasn't shadowed by the rule of Voldemort, even if it was a tad cold and empty.

"I'll see you in the new year, yeah?" Daphne said to you, pulling you into a hug, "Have a good Christmas."

"You too," you returned the embrace, "And happy new year."

She smiled at you, and that was when you caught sight of Blaise in the corner of your eye. You hadn't spoken since the events of the Slytherin party, primarily because you had avoided him. But, he was walking towards you.

"Merry Christmas," he said monotonously, and Daphne took that as her cue to disappear.

"Merry Christmas," you said curtly back, picking up your trunk as you prepared to get off the train.

"Our families are having dinner together over the holiday."

You hesitated in your movements upon hearing that, but decided against replying, instead leaving him stood there with an expressionless face.

***

It wasn't that your parents didn't love you or care for you by any means, you knew that if you refused to marry Blaise Zabini they wouldn't disown you. But, they were raised with certain values and customs, and you had been raised into them as well. You wanted to make them proud - you just wished that the husband they had picked for you was a more willing participant in the arrangement.

So, when Blaise Zabini and his recently widowed (for the millionth time) mother arrived on your doorstep, the smile on your face wasn't entirely false. There were some truth to your emotions, despite the current state of the world.

"As you know, Blaise and Y/N are in their final year of Hogwarts," Ms Zabini spoke proudly once you were all sat around your dining table, "I believe it's time we start planning the wedding."

"I couldn't agree more," your mother replied, "It should be an elegant affair."

"That goes without saying."

You chewed on your lip.

"Y/N, what colour theme would you like?" your mother asked.

Your breath hitched, as you tried to scrape together a daydream of your dream wedding.

"Maybe pastel green?" you suggested timidly, "Since we're both Slytherins."

Ms Zabini nodded her head approvingly, "Is that agreeable to you, Blaise?"

The man shrugged, "Whatever Y/N wants."

"That makes things easy," the widow said, "It shall be a wonderful event."

***

After dinner, your collective parents had left you and Blaise to your own devices, suggesting that you show him your room. Part of you was surprised they were allowing a boy into your bedroom with no supervision, but you supposed some formalities were wavered due to your engagement to be married.

Blaise snorted when he entered your room: covered in moving posters and animated Lego sets, your four poster bed being pink and frilly with enchanted butterfly decor all around the wood.

"It's a bit mismatched," he said simply.

"It's home."

He raised an eyebrow at that, and silence consumed the both of you. The tension that hung in the air was thick, making you feel like you would go insane if you didn't say something.

"I'm not that bad, you know."

Blaise turned to face you from where he was sat at your desk, meanwhile you had perched on the end of your bed.

"I get that being tied to someone not of your choosing is a bit suffocating - believe me, I know - but you could make it easier for yourself by actually trying to get to know me."

"I do know you."

You rolled your eyes, "You know what I mean, Blaise," his first name was a foreign taste on your tongue, "You could have a worse wife than me."

He appeared to ponder your words for a while, stewing in the dampening tension of the atmosphere meanwhile you anxiously awaited his response. It was as if every action he took was intentional in making your nerves spike.

"The truth is, Y/N, I resent you."

You sat, stunned.

"My freedom to choose has been taken away from me."

Your blood boiled, making you stand up, "And I'm to blame for that? I'm in the same situation as you are, you knobhead."

He said nothing.

"I wasn't the one who made the decision. Stop acting like you're the only one here who's having a hard time."

Blaise went to open his mouth, but you carried on.

"Not to mention, there are people out there dying in the war right now," you vaguely gestured towards the window, "You should count your lucky stars that the biggest problem in your life is having to marry me!"

You scoffed, watching as he stared wide-eyed at you. After you realised he had nothing to say, you left the room to head down to the kitchens. Salazar, you needed a cup of hot chocolate after that whole ordeal.

***

The dark grey clouds cast a grim shadow over the once buzzing atmosphere of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and they only seemed to get gloomier by the day. It was all you could do to stand on the sheltered bridge as you watched rain pour down, even though it was meant to be Spring. The mood of the wizarding world had always had a strange effect on the weather.

Your gloveless fingers were beginning to grow numb in the cold, but you didn't move, nor make any attempt to warm them up. You just wish that you could say that your low mood was for something as selfless as the current danger muggle-borns were in. But, no, you were egotistically thinking about your own qualms - i.e. your upcoming wedding with a man who hardly looked your way.

Ever since the argument at Christmas, he had gone back to disregarding your existence, apart from the few occasions you would catch him staring at you when he thought no one was watching. Aside from that, both your mother and his were frequently owling you about decisions for the wedding, which was making the whole ordeal seem a lot more real than it did before.

"L/N," the last voice that you expected to hear called out from beside you.

Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to turn around, as if you were paralysed.

"You'll freeze to death out here," he spoke again, this time closer to you, "Everyone's wondering where you are."

Slowly, you turned your head to look at Blaise Zabini, your sallow eyes boring into his.

"They're looking everywhere for you."

"Tell them I'm fine," you eventually spoke.

"I don't think you are, though," he sighed, "You look like you're one minute away from hypothermia."

You shrugged, "Nothing magic medicine can't fix."

Blaise rolled his eyes, grabbing your hand, "Fuck, you're like ice."

That was when he started dragging you back to the castle, and you didn't have the energy to resist at all.

"What are you doing out here, anyway?"

You scoffed, "Like you couldn't guess."

He didn't reply to that statement, instead saying, "We're getting you warmed up."

He sat you in front of the fire in the Slytherin common room, wrapping a forest green blanket around you and placing a warm cup of hot chocolate in your hand. Your friends gathered around you, asking questions about where you had been and if you were okay, but you replied to none of them. Eventually, Blaise urged them all to give you space, letting out a sigh in the process.

Your heart twisted, and you attempted to suppress the pain by sipping on the drink.

It burnt your tongue.

"Careful," Blaise murmured, sitting on the sofa behind you.

You didn't even have the energy to scowl.

"We have our NEWTs soon, you have to take care of yourself."

That wasn't the only thing you had soon.

"You don't have to pretend like you care," you eventually forced out between chattering teeth.

You paused - waiting for him to say something. Anything. Part of you was praying to the gods above that he would say he wasn't pretending, that he did truly care. Instead, his silence was deafening, and your heart twisted and turned all that more. Why couldn't you just hate him?

Who would have thought it would be such a curse to have feelings for your fiancé?

***

Dust swarmed your senses, wrenching at your lungs and causing you to cough horrifically like you were a seasoned chainsmoker; you could barely see a metre ahead of you, and it was all you could do to shield your eyes with your arm as you progressed forwards. Through the crumbles and cracks, you could hear yells of Latin, thrown aggressively and with raw passion that had your blood spiking.

As far as you could tell, you were still in the dungeons - but you needed to get out of them, as they appeared on the verge of collapsing. You hadn't particularly engaged in any duels yourself, both because you were a coward, and because you lacked duelling skills. However, you had aided some students against the death eaters here and there on your progression through the castle.

You couldn't take a completely neutral stance like your parents.

You coughed harder, spluttering as your feet found stairs and began to climb up them - stumbling, but not falling.

"Help," a strained voice called out, making you assess the situation around you as best you could. As you inched further towards the left, you could make out the figure of someone stuck under rubble halfway up the staircase. You moved even closer.

"Blaise?" you croaked out.

A groan.

"Fuck," you mumbled, quickly muttering a spell to lift the rubble off of him. You saw the blood staining his clothes and gasped.

"It snapped my wand," he said, wincing as he tried to move.

You did your best to help him up, letting him rest his weight on your shoulders as you continued to push up the stairs.

"The dungeons are about to collapse," you said, carefully navigating your way around the corner once you finished the stairs.

"The whole-" he groaned, "-castle is."

You grimaced, "You need a healer."

But getting to the makeshift hospital ward without getting caught up in a duel would be quite a challenge. Then, it suddenly hit you.

"Which side are you on?" you quickly asked.

He scoffed, "Which side do you think? I'm still here." He then hunched over with an even louder groan than before, you swiftly moved to support his weight more.

Most Slytherin students who were either neutral or on the side of the death eaters had abandoned Hogwarts instead of staying to fight. You were a coward, but you would never have been able to forgive yourself if you had left. Instead, you found yourself stuck in the dungeons, some way, somehow.

"You stayed to fight," you murmured.

He went to say something, but another sharp pain coursed through him.

"Fuck," you cursed.

***

By some miracle, you reached the hospital ward with minimal further damage, and managed to get Blaise seen to instantly. You were amazed that they didn't question two Slytherin students being on their side, but you supposed it made sense: they were the good guys.

As you watched them take his shirt off to assess the damage, a glimmer of something against his chest caught your eye. It was connected to a thin silver chain that dangled around his neck, showing slight signs of wear and tear, implying he didn't even take it off when showering. When your vision cleared, you realised that the shimmery object along the chain was none other than the white gold band of green jewels that was the matching pair to the ring on your finger.

A lump caught in your throat, "You're wearing it," you choked out.

Blaise's eyes were shut, but he smiled tiredly, "Always."

Tears pricked at your eyes.

***

Eventually, what would be known as the infamous Battle of Hogwarts ceased fire: Lord Voldemort had fallen at the hands of Harry Potter. But there weren't cheers.

There was only devastation.

The wreck that the once majestic Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had become, and the subsequent deaths of thousands of kind-hearted people who had so much life to live. It was the epitome of bittersweet to watch people going around clearing up after the battle. You were grateful to be among the living, sat next to Blaise as he slept restlessly on a mat on the floor.

There wasn't really anyone else for you to talk to in the aftermath after all: Slytherins were quite isolated from the other houses, and hardly any Slytherins had stayed.

You allowed yourself the luxury of taking Blaise's hand in your own and squeezing it gently, letting a solitary tear cascade down your cheek. Was it relief? Was it hope? Was it happiness? Or was it sadness? Melancholia? Regret?

You didn't know, you simply allowed the feeling to wash over you.

"I didn't stay to fight," Blaise said out of nowhere, his voice gruff and quiet.

"Hm?"

"I stayed because you stayed."

Your heart jolted at his words, "Really?"

"Of course," he peeled his eyes open, "'Til death do us part."

You squeezed his hand again, "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you act like you hated me?"

He sighed, appearing to be gathering as much energy together as he could, "I resented you, yes, but I- I was also scared of hurting you. You know what everyone thinks of my mother - that she's a-" he coughed, "-serial killer. Killing her husbands."

You admired his smooth face, despite its cuts and gashes.

"I was scared of becoming her, and I didn't want that to be your fate."

You reached out a hand to graze his prominent cheekbone, letting the tiniest of smiles tug at your lips.

"We'll be okay, Blaise," you murmured softly, "You're not like her."

He smiled slightly, wincing in the process. "No arranged marriages for our kids?"

You nodded, "No arranged marriages for our kids."

***

Your parents walked either side of you as you made your way down the grassy aisle, the summer heat blazing down on to the prettily flowered meadow. In your hands was a bouquet of white and pastel green peonies, and on your figure was a gorgeous princess ball gown that cost a small fortune. All your family and friends were stood up from their seats, gazing at your every move. Blaise, proudly stood at the altar in a black suit with a mint coloured waistcoat, was no exception. His eyes were trained into yours, making your heart flip tenfold.

Meeting him in front of the officiant, you passed your bouquet off to Pansy before allowing yourself to truly smile in your fiancé's presence. He took your hands into his and squeezed ever so slightly, as the officiant began to speak.

It felt like forever before the vows.

"I, Mr Blaise Zabini, promise to take Miss Y/N L/N to be my wife, and to love and cherish her, in sickness and in health, 'til death do us part."

He slipped the ring on to your finger, where it settled above your engagement ring.

The attention was then on you.

"I, Miss Y/N L/N, promise to take Mr Blaise Zabini to be my husband, and to love and cherish him, in sickness and in health, 'til death do us part." You pushed the larger ring on to his finger.

"I now, by the power vested in me, pronounce you husband and wife."

Blaise swooped down to kiss you warmly on the lips as cheers erupted from the crowd, and you found yourself smiling into his lips.

"I love you," he whispered. Words he had never spoken before.

"I love you too."

'Til death do us part.

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masterlist

written; 27/12/2023 —> 15/02/2024 published; 16/02/2024 edited; —/—/——

131 notes · View notes

morwap · 1 year

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Literally love the Blaise idea-

Shy!reader holding Blaises hand and attempting to defend Blaise for once?? Like just randomly talking up for Blaise

draco was always like this, shit talking the most once someone’s done something.

it was lunch, you sat beside blaise, hand in hand as you listened to draco bring up blaise’s potion blowing up for the third time today. you could tell blaise was annoyed and the whole thing rubbed you the wrong way.

“says you draco didn’t your potion last week blow up and turn your hair red for three days” you snapped loudly. draco narrowed his eyes at you as he shut up.

#blaise zabini x y/n #blaise zabini x you #blaise zabini x reader #blaise x reader #blaise zabini #golden trio era x reader

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grangerhater · 8 months

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UNLIKELY FRIENDSHIPS

pairing: blaise zabini x gryffindor!reader

synopsis: a snob like Blaise and an introvert like y/n could never be friends, yet the form a bond in which they both learn and grow

platonic

The Great Hall was bustling with students, their voices echoing off the high ceilings as they chatted animatedly over breakfast. Amongst the crowd, Blaise Zabini sat at the Slytherin table, his dark eyes scanning the room with an air of superiority. He held himself with confidence, his posture impeccable, as he engaged in conversation with his equally posh friends.

Meanwhile, tucked away at the far end of the Gryffindor table, sat Y/N, a shy and introverted student. Their eyes were downcast, focusing on their plate of food as they ate in silence. Y/N was content to blend into the background, avoiding attention and unnecessary interactions. They were used to being overlooked, and it suited them just fine.

Blaise caught a glimpse of Y/N sitting alone, their nervousness evident in the way they fidgeted with their silverware. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity about them. Their reserved nature stood in stark contrast to his own outspoken personality. Blaise found himself inexplicably drawn to the mystery that surrounded Y/N.

Determined to satisfy his curiosity, Blaise decided to approach Y/N. He smoothly made his way towards them, his presence commanding attention as he towered over their small figure. Y/N tensed up, feeling a mix of anxiety and disbelief that someone like Blaise Zabini would even acknowledge their existence.

"Hello there," Blaise said, his voice laced with a hint of arrogance. "I couldn't help but notice you sitting here all alone. Mind if I join you?"

Y/N's heart raced, their mind struggling to process the unexpected encounter. They managed to nod, barely audibly, and Blaise took a seat across from them. The silence between them was palpable, each lost in their own thoughts.

Blaise, unaccustomed to the quietude, decided to break the ice. "You know, most people would jump at the chance to have a conversation with me. Yet, here you are, seemingly disinterested in my presence."

Y/N's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. They were well aware of their introverted nature and the difficulty they faced in social situations. The last thing they wanted was to draw attention to themselves, especially from someone as confident and popular as Blaise.

"Sorry," Y/N mumbled, their voice barely audible. "I'm just not good with talking to people."

Blaise's eyes softened momentarily, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "Well, perhaps I can help you with that. Consider it a challenge."

Y/N looked up, their eyes meeting Blaise's intense gaze. They had no idea what he meant by a challenge, but there was something intriguing about the proposition.

"Alright," Y/N whispered, their voice gaining a bit more confidence. "I'm willing to give it a try."

And so, Blaise began a journey of guiding Y/N out of their shell. He took the time to learn about their interests, coaxing them to share their thoughts and opinions. Slowly but surely, Y/N started to open up, their shyness giving way to a newfound sense of self-assurance.

As the weeks went by, Blaise and Y/N formed an unlikely bond. Blaise's snobbish exterior gradually melted away, revealing a kind and patient side that Y/N hadn't expected. Blaise, in turn, discovered the joy of genuine connections rather than superficial ones.

One day, as they sat beneath a large oak tree by the Black Lake, Y/N found the courage to express their gratitude. Looking up at Blaise, who was seated on the grass next to them, they said, "Thank you, Blaise. You've helped me grow so much. I never thought I'd be able to have conversations like this. Before we met, I was so shy and insecure that I could barely talk to anyone. But you never made me feel like I was strange or different in any way. You always accepted me for who I am, and that has made all the difference."

Blaise gave them a soft smile, his eyes crinkling kindly as he looked down at Y/N. "The pleasure is all mine," he said. "You know, Y/N, before we met, I was pretty wrapped up in my own world. Being popular, being the life of the party, always getting my way; that was the only thing that mattered to me. I never really stopped to appreciate the little things in life, what really mattered and made me happy. But being around you has taught me the value of patience and understanding. I've come to realize that there's more to life than just appearances”

As Blaise spoke, Y/N's heart swelled with happiness. They could hardly believe that they had found acceptance from someone like Blaise—one of the most popular and confident students in the whole school. Before meeting him, Y/N had always felt like an outcast, like they didn't belong. But here they were, enjoying a moment of genuine connection with someone who had come to understand them and accept them for who they were.

As the sun set on the Hogwarts grounds, casting a golden glow over the pair, Blaise and Y/N sat in comfortable silence, content in each other's presence. Their journey together had transformed them both, proving that sometimes, the most unlikely friendships could blossom from the unlikeliest of circumstances.

#blaise zabini #blaise zabini x you #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini x y/n #blaise zabini headcanons #slytherin #slytherin boys #harry potter #harry potter hc #strangers to friends

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madhatterbri · 3 months

Text

On The Mend | B.Z.

Summary: You run into Blaise on the train ride back home.

Author's Note: Part 2 of Broken. Hope you enjoy @luvcavill

"I love you, Blaise," you confessed. He flinched at your words. All he would need is one hand to count the times his mother told him those words. A piece of your heart broke at his reaction. He truly didn't know how special he was. "But I can't help fix someone that wants to stay broken,"

You never felt happier to leave Hogwarts for Christmas despite the circumstances. This would be the first Christmas without either of your parents. Your mother died years ago while your father was in Azkaban. There was one silver lining. At least you wouldn't have to see Blaise every day.

Sitting in close proximity to someone who broke your heart was the worst. You had to relive the heart ache every day. Your classes were with him and you had to eat by him. You didn't know how Pansy could do it with Draco. Just act like everything was fine. Meanwhile, you are hurting on the inside.

"You okay?" Pansy asked and placed a hand on your shoulder. She had been such a good friend these past few days. Always their for you to vent. "You know you can come over whenever you need over winter break. I know it's going to be weird with everything going on,"

"Yeah, I am probably going to take you up on that offer," you chuckled and walked inside the train. Since both of your parents could no longer care for you, you were now with your grandmother. The woman loved you fiercely, but she was strict.

The compartments the two of you passed were filled with first years excited to see their parents. The pang of jealousy gripped you in a vice. You remembered feeling the same when you were their age. You wished you could turn back time.

"I am going to find our friends. Why don't you sit here so our spot is saved?" She asked. You nodded and sat down by the window. You leaned your head against the glass. Snow fell down softly.

The door to the compartment opened and closed. You didn't bother looking up. You wanted to get lost in your own world. Fellow students were afraid to mess with you after your father was sent to Azkaban. They figured you had nothing to lose, and you'd wind up there, too.

The person sat across from you. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see it was a fellow Slytherin. He had dark skin and was tall. Fuck, you thought to yourself, Blaise. You stood up to leave, but he grabbed your hand.

"Don't, please, I want to talk to you," he begged. The desperation in his voice, something you never thought you would hear. Still, you couldn't deal with the drama anymore.

"We did all our talking already, Zabini. The last thing I want to do is fight with you all the way back home," you pleaded with him. "I won't leave but we can just sit here in silence,"

Honestly, the last thing you wanted to do was sit in silence with him. You wanted him to fight for you. Tell you that he screwed up and he wanted to be with you. It was a dream that seemed so far out of reach. Until he opened his mouth and said the words you've been longing to hear.

"I'm sorry," he spoke. You almost laughed until you heard the sincerity in his voice. You looked at him. His face was stoic, yet his eyes pleaded with you to accept his apology.

Your breath caught in your throat. Those were words you never thought you would hear him say. You gulped, trying to keep the tears at bay.

"Is that it?" You asked.

"Please, sit down," he requested. His hand never leaves yours. His thumb rubbed soft circles on your hand. The same soothing touch he rubbed you when you father was sent to Azkaban.

You pulled your hand from his and sat across from him. He locked his fingers together and looked out the window. His mind was running, trying to think of what to say. You had never seen him like this.

"You were right," he started and gulped. "About my mom. About everything,"

Your lips tightened as you listened to him. He never really talked about his home life. His breaks from school usually meant he stayed with the Malfoys.

"Blaise, we don't have to talk about this here. We can see each other on break, and it will be more private," you offered. Unlikely to happen with your grandmother, but you didn't want to tell him that. Besides, your friends can walk in at any minute, and all of this will have been for nothing.

"I remind her of him," he admitted, ignoring your words. "The man that cheated on her. She treats me like an estranged family member more than her own son,"

"I'm sorry," you apologized. Despite your family's problems, they loved you no matter what.

"So that's why when we started dating, I figured we were just using each other for fun. Then you told me you love me despite all the wrongs I did to you. Do you still love me?" He asked. His eyes stared into yours. He took a shaky breath.

A single tear fell down your cheeks. You smiled and nodded. "I always have and always will, Blaise,"

"I don't want to be broken anymore, Y/N. I love you and I want to mend our relationship,"

#fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini fanfiction #blaise zabini #blaise zabini x you #blaise zabini x y/n

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kkurades · 2 years

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˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ STARRY EYES ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

━━ during the battle of hogwarts blaise had lost sight of you but when he finally found you again he found your dead corpse.

word count: 2637

pairing: fem!gryffindor!lupin!reader x blaise zabini

warning: death, blood, missing limbs, broken skull, war.

“But he's there! Potter's there! Someone grab him!” Pansy Parkinson exclaimed while you watched the scene unfold next to Hermione.

Ginny instinctively moves towards Harry with her wand drawn. Your eyes quickly flickered to your boyfriend, Blaise Zabini who was already staring at you.

Both you and Hermione made a move to join Ginny while you desperately clutched your wand, praying to whoever was listening that you wouldn't have to use it.

The other Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws follow your lead and stand protectively around Harry before Filch abruptly marched in, but you couldn't bring yourself to listen to him as you examined Blaise who seemed indifferent about the situation.

“Wait! As it turns out, Mr. Filch, your arrival is most opportune. If you would, I'd like you to lead Miss Parkinson and the rest of Slytherin House from the Hall.”

Your gaze quickly flashed towards Professor McGonagall before looking back to your frowning boyfriend.

“Right away,” Filch suddenly halted before questioning the head of Gryffindor once again, “Er, exactly where is it I'd be leadin' em to, ma'am?”

“The dungeons should do,” while the other students cheered as the Slytherins were taken to the dungeon, you felt an apprehensive feeling crawl over you as you watched Blaise desperately looking at you.

Perhaps he had known that the inevitable was going to happen, and he didn't want you to be in the middle of the battlefield without his protection.

After all, you still were a Gryffindor through and through. And unfortunately, your house was particularly known for its impulsiveness, which was a trait that you shared.

You watched stoically as Blaise disappeared from your sight before moving towards your father and your stepmother.

Remus kissed the top of your head, while Nymphadora pulled you into a firm hug. You inhaled her vanilla and candy-like scent, which soothed you extensively before pulling away and joining Neville and the rest of the DA.

You were assisting Cho, Nigel, and Katie while Seamus ordered you around in placing magical 'charges' on key pressure points.

Your body stilled when you noticed Scabior and the Snatchers moving towards you and Neville.

“Not good,” you heard Neville mumble before you took his arm and sprinted as fast as you could while Ginny and Seamus were standing at the edge of the wooden bridge.

Even though you knew you should have been more concerned about Scabior and the Snatchers, who were about to catch up to you any instant, you felt the terror seep into your body as you caught a maniacal gleam in Seamus’ eyes.

Fortunately, you were quick enough to reach the duo in time before the bridge ultimately collapsed.

But when you turned around, you noticed that Neville had suddenly disappeared. Ginny gasped beside you as your mouth fell scarcely open and your eyes widened.

The moment seemingly lasted forever before charred fingernails appeared over the final remaining of the bridge.

You let out a sigh of relief before you and Ginny rushed to hoist Neville up onto what's left of the bridge.

“What?” The youngest Weasley asked as Neville glanced at you.

“That was quite exciting,” you let out a groan as Seamus grinned and winked at him.

“Mad. The both of you,” Ginny declared before a thundering rumble almost send Neville tumbling off the bridge again.

Ginny steadies him as you all peer into the distance, noticing that the reason of the small earthquake were giants.

You quickly said your goodbyes before you dashed off to help fight off the death eaters, while Ginny and Neville parted ways with Seamus.

And while you were fighting for your life, Blaise had been stuck in the dungeons with a harsh glare on his face as he stared holes into the grinning Filch.

“Night-tee night,” Blaise felt like he could slaughter the man right then and there, but quietly watched as Pansy cursed him.

“You let us out of here, you filthy squib!” Filch only grinned, shaking the ring of keys in his hand, and turned to walk away.

When he was a fair distance away the chamber began to tremble, but with each step, it got more violent. Suddenly plaster rained down, and a ragged hole opens in the ceiling, followed by multiple others before a massive eye peered inside which made some Slytherins scream.

The giant's fist dropped heavily through the hole, fingers probing the cell clumsily. Filch watched in horror as the cell fell to pieces and the Slytherins spilled forth.

Goyle ruthlessly flung Housemates aside, while Blaise followed in his wake. Ready to start searching for you throughout the whole castle, even if it would take him the entire night.

As they reached the safety of the corridor, a hand — this one of human scale — reaches out of the darkness and grabbed Goyle.

Blaise stifled his groan at the sight of Draco Malfoy before following him, desperately hoping that they would come across someone who could notify him of your whereabouts.

Before Blaise comprehended what was occurring, he was perched atop a fragile tower while fire consumed everything around him.

He had lost his wand earlier on and thought that this would be it before Ron and Harry flew towards him and Draco on brooms.

He quickly took Ron's outstretched hand and mounted the broom while listening to Ron complaining about it under his breath.

Blaise suppressed his eye roll because Ron Weasley did save his life.

While Ron flew them to safety, he couldn't stop himself from asking about you. The words were scorching him, and he desperately ought to know the answer.

“Where's Y/n?” His voice was steady, but if you listened close enough, then you would perhaps have heard his urgency.

Ron quickly glanced at him with a scoff before replying.

“I don't know. I haven't seen her since the start of this.”

But as Ron glimpsed at Blaise's despairing expression, he felt himself blurt something out.

“She went with Ginny and Neville,” he timidly said, which lit Blaise's eyes once again before Ron landed the two of them safely.

Blaise awkwardly thanked Ron before dashing off in the hope to find you.

You had scratches all over your face, your nose was probably broken, and you were convinced that your left pinky was about to fall off.

You tried to shrug it off as you continued fighting off the infinite death eaters.

Much to your solace, you found your dad and stepmom and quickly approached them while fending off the enemy.

But your relief was exceptionally brief when Antonin Dolohov ultimately killed your father.

You heard your heart pounding loudly in your ears as the light left your father's eyes.

You could hear Nymphadora's heartbreaking cry before you charged at Dolohov ruthlessly before you killed the man.

While you were able to kill Antonin Dolohov, you knew that it was partially because he had been diverted and hadn't seen you coming.

You were about to approach your father's body but abruptly halted when you noticed Bellatrix Lestrange standing a little further from you, inclining to kill Nymphadora.

No sound came from your throat as Bellatrix neared your stepmom who was wailing over her dead husband's body, not caring whether she was open for attacks.

You noticed out of the corner of your eye Kingsley Shacklebolt attempting to reach Nymphadora in time, but you knew he was too far away to do anything.

Nymphadora looked up at the sound of Kingsley yelling at her, but she felt like she couldn't move as Bellatrix moved toward her at an extraordinarily rapid pace.

You quickly made your mind up as you ran right towards the merciless death eater, your wand having been discarded somewhere along the way of killing Dolohov.

Your body collided with Bellatrix' as you made an effort to shove her off the edge of the castle.

Unfortunately, she yanked you with her before she quickly apparated to safety.

It felt like everything was going in slow motion as you caught a glimpse of Kingsley and your stepmom leaning over the edge while they screamed your name at the top of their lungs as tears streamed down Nymphadora's cheek as she watched you plunge to your death.

You felt yourself relaxing as you realized that you had saved Nymphadora and that she would have an opportunity to survive this and go home to Teddy.

You quickly accepted your death, as your final thoughts were of Blaise Zabini.

You particularly thought about the feeling of when you woke up next to him in your dorm.

The sunlight bled through the curtains around your bed as you felt Blaise's heartbeat steadily thumping beneath you.

You remembered the adoring look on his face as you kissed him softly while your limbs were tangled together.

Your last thoughts were of Blaise before your body shut down when it collided with the ground.

Nymphadora remembered the determination on your face when she looked up to see you charging at Bellatrix to save her.

She remembered the anguish she felt when her maternal aunt pulled you down with her.

She remembered how she scattered to her feet before taking off towards the edge with Kingsley right next to her as she shrieked your name, desperate to see you one more time.

She remembered the heartbreak she felt when your eyes softened, and you looked peaceful, almost relieved, as you fell to your death while the stars were reflected in your eyes.

Kingsley had to haul her away while Arthur looked at her with sorrow in his eyes.

Minerva McGonagall's face twisted into pure horror when she heard the sound of bones breaking.

She quickly spun around only to see you dead on the floor with your eyes hauntingly staring into her soul as the corner of your lips had been turned upwards.

A gasp left her body as a single tear fell from her eye before hurrying over to you.

She crouched next to you, taking you into her arms but had no option but to leave you there.

The castle still roamed with death eaters, giants, and whatnot, and she couldn't afford to be vulnerable at a time like this, besides she was way too old to be carrying bodies around, so she quickly promised your dead body that she would return as soon as possible.

Only after Voldemort's defeat did McGonagall remember about you again and instantly asked Wood to assist her to pick up your body.

Oliver let out a shallow breath as he halted next to your body. You hadn't been moved because you had fallen into a relatively peaceful area where there wasn't much damage done.

He quickly glanced at the head of the Gryffindor house with a shaken look on his face before seizing your body.

Your head lolled against his shoulders and your arm limply hung from your body as Oliver carried you to the great hall, where most of the bodies were placed.

When he entered the Great Hall, he noticed some people throwing pitiful looks at you in his arms as he brought you to a free spot.

Just as he was about to place you down he heard someone let out a miserable sob before turning to your stepmom who hadn't left Remus his side since the war had ended.

He carefully put you on a blanket as Nymphadora fell down next to your body. He took this as his que to leave, but not before giving one last tragic look at your corpse.

Neville, Ginny, Seamus, Harry, Hermione, and Ron immediately ran towards you when they noticed your body being brought in.

Neville closed his eyes as tears escaped them while he remembered how lively you had looked hours prior.

Hermione leaned into Ron as salty wet tears streamed down her face as she hiccuped slightly while Seamus stared at you with horror and misery.

At a sudden point during the battle did Blaise find Neville and Luna, but when he questioned them about your whereabouts he came out with nothing.

His hopes started to falter after he had practically scoured the whole castle.

After Voldemort's defeat, he had followed the Malfoy's into the great hall and quietly sat there as he observed the doors, hoping for you to come through them.

He had asked all of your friends by now where you were, but none of them knew. Blaise had even looked at all the bodies to ensure that you weren't dead.

Later on, Draco and his mother had already left, but Blaise didn't dare to move his eyes from the gate.

His eyes glanced towards a small commotion that had been around one of the bodies that had just been brought in by Oliver Wood and professor McGonagall.

When he looked closer, he noticed that it were your friends. Even your stepmother was there as she sat on the ground while crying her eyes out.

He quickly came to realize that it couldn't be a coincidence.

'No'

He kept repeating the word as he quickly jumped up and neared the group, but he felt his heart in his throat when he recognized your messy y/h/c hair and your favorite red sweater that you had been wearing earlier that night when he saw you.

His eyes widened as he pushed through your friends, who threw sympathetic looks as he collapsed next to your body.

The war hadn't been kind to you. Your nose was broken and dried blood stained your upper lip. You had multiple scratches and gashes along your body, and blood stained the blanket that you were laying on, indicating that there was a wound on the back of your head.

Your fingers were covered in grime and blood, but he could make out that you missed one finger.

Blaise clutched to your body refusing to let you go as tears fell from his eyes, not caring about the blood that was tainting his clothes.

He sat there for hours, refusing to leave you as the stream of tears seemed endless.

At a certain point, they had placed your father’s body next to you, but he paid him no mind.

Most students had been leaving the Great Hall, but he remained next to you while Nymphadora watched him sadly.

He felt like his life ended the moment he found your body, but his thoughts were cut off by a hand being placed on his shoulder.

His eyes glanced towards the owner, who happened to be Nymphadora. She sat down next to him while trying to keep her tears at bay.

“What happened?” Blaise's voice was quivering and hoarse, his hands trembled, and he was terrified of the answer.

“I- Y/n found me and R-Remus at a certain point during the battle. Remus had just been killed by Antonin Dolohov so she avenged him by killing Dolohov. After her fight with him she-uhm, she lost her wand. While I was grieving over Remus I was oblivious to Bellatrix who was planning to kill me,” Blaise let out a shuddered breath as he knew where this was going to but kept quiet.

“She charged at Bellatrix and pushed her off the castle, but Bellatrix pulled her with her. During their fall, Bellatrix managed to apparatus. Even though Y/n didn’t kill her, she saved my life,” Nymphadora was full-on sobbing now as the memory seemed like an endless loop.

“What-what happened to Bellatrix?” Blaise felt anger fill his body as he spat out the name of the woman who had partially killed his Y/n.

“Molly killed her.”

Blaise nodded but remained quiet as he grieved you with your stepmother silently. But he was sure that he wouldn’t be able to recover from this, from your death.

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mirclealignr · 2 years

Text

flirtations | b.z

blaise zabini x gn!reader

requested by @hp-slaps with the prompts "Can you say that again?" & "You're such a flirt!" - "Only with you." & "Why are you blushing? Did I make you blush?" & "I love your smile." & laughing into the kiss.

warnings; assumed skin tone where a blush is visible, dirty joke, fluff!

word count; 900+

a/n; it's not the best but first time I've posted in a while so enjoy it anyway and reblog if u did <3

to be notified when I post, fill out my tag list form or follow @mirclesjournal

This summer season was the last Blaise Zabini would spend pining after Y/N—he was determined.

It seemed the perfect setting, as if someone behind the screen of earth was cheering him on behind the scenes. The sun was beaming over Hogwarts, cascading through every window, throwing reflective shards into dance across the halls and classrooms. The flowers were in full bloom, the trees full and healthy, and smiles seemed permanently painted on students’ faces. Summer was a truly magical time to be at Hogwarts.

The source of all this magic, as Blaise was convinced, must have come from Y/N. If they were down, flowers wilted, leaves dropped from their trees, and rain pattered harshly against the sullen earth. But when they were happy, it looked just as it did today: magnificent. And Blaise knew this to be true when he saw you walking down the corridor, smiling as your friend told you of their latest gossip. He lost all sense of time watching you, losing seconds, minutes and hours just admiring you. And yet he could still justify it as time well spent, and never wasted.

He marched with a sense of purpose towards you, a keen look in his eye some may recognise as determination, others as confidence, and very few as hope. He stretched his hands out and then clenched his fists, repeating these movements as he walked—a nervous tic he’d had for longer than he could recall—before breathing out his fears slowly.

“You're looking lovely today, Y/L/N!” Blaise called from down the corridor—you’d seen him a few moments before, hoping he’d approach before your friend turned the corner.

Giving you a mischievous look, your friend hugged their books tighter to their chest and bit their smile down, turning down the corridor alone.

“Shame I can’t say the same about you,” you replied, acting as if you were about to follow your friend, but Blaise stood in the way almost immediately.

“Leaving so soon?” He pouted, tilting his head before a smile broke the hurt expression he’d put on for show.

“Wouldn’t want any of you,” you motioned up and down with a scowl, “To rub off on me. Can’t risk it,” you shrugged.

“Can you say that again? I love it when you talk dirty,” he smirked, letting it fall into a smile as his teeth peeked through his lips.

“Merlin, you’re such a flirt!” You laughed, shaking your head at his crude joke.

“Only with you,” he looked at his shoes before regaining his confidence, only to see rose spreading over your cheeks, “Why are you blushing?” He asked with a sense of pride that wounded your ego.

“Bugger off,” you slapped his hand away, trying to hide your face.

“Did I finally make you blush?”

“You’ll never have proof and I’ll never admit the truth!”

“So you’re confirming it’s the truth, then? You know this means I’ve won?” He held his head high, crossing his arms.

“This time, Zabini,” you rolled your eyes, trying to keep the expression serious.

Blaise was first to crack, letting a pleasing chuckle slip from his mouth as his hands dropped back to his sides. You followed suit, letting your demeanour relax.

“I love your smile,” he said softly, perhaps meaning it only for his ears, but he knew you heard it too by the way you looked up at him with soft and curious eyes.

“I think that’s the most genuine thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“That’s not true. It’s the most genuine I’ve said anything to you, not the most genuine thing I’ve said.”

“I would argue it’s the same thing.”

“You know I’d disagree,” he whispered, still smiling, but you caught his eyes flickering down to your lips no matter how subtle he tried to keep it.

If this was the moment he risked everything, he wouldn’t regret a thing, no matter the result. He couldn’t think of a moment more perfect than this, after months, years even, of flirting with you and falling in love with you, to kiss you.

He laughed his nervousness away, painfully aware of how serious and slow the moment had become—no longer was there fast paced verbal sparring, it had quietened and that made him anxious. To see you laugh in return sucked the oxygen from his lungs; you were so…divine. You were so close to him.

“What are you waiting for?” You whispered, a quiet giggle escaping as you asked.

“Reality to set in. I think I’m dreaming.”

“You’re such a sap,” you laughed, snaking your arm around the back of his neck and pulling him down to your aching lips.

It was strangely nostalgic to kiss him, as if his lips had always belonged to you and this kiss was simply the first in a long time. Perhaps in another life you had a similar story. His arms held you close in a tight but soft embrace, while his lips captured yours again and again.

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” He asked with his eyes still sealed shut and forehead leaning against yours.

“I don’t think so.”

“What?!” He asked abruptly, eyes shooting open and head pulling back.

“I’m fucking with you,” you laughed, covering your mouth with your hands, feeling a slight twinge of guilt upon seeing his humiliated reaction.

“You’re an arse,” he shook his head, pulling you into his chest tightly so you couldn’t escape. You pushed against him, mumbling something against his sweater, “What was that? I can’t hear you, could you speak up?”

Finally freeing yourself from his arms, you patted down your hair and scowled at him. “You’re never getting a date now,” you huffed, turning away from him and walking down the hall with a smirk, knowing he’d follow you.

“No! Forgive me, I didn’t mean it,” he shouted after you, running down the hall to catch up.

#blaise zabini #blaise zabini x you #blaise zabini x y/n #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini fanfiction #blaise zabini fluff #blaise zabini imagine #blaise zabini fic

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