Lucius Malfoy
Malfoy Manor is never quiet — but it is controlled.
multifandom ⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 slut for targaryens & possessive men you guys can replace my name in the stories with yours!!
Malfoy Manor is never quiet — but it is controlled.
The war tears the North apart piece by piece.
The tourney season arrives like a storm wrapped in silk and banners. Lords and knights pour into the Red Keep, armor gleaming, ambitions sharper than their blades. Among them rides the king’s nephew, Valarr Targaryen, heir to a respected branch of the royal line, composed and deliberate in every movement. He does not enter loudly. He does not seek attention. He simply commands it. And when his gaze first meets Desiree’s across the courtyard, there is no hunger in it—only focus.
The tourney season arrives like a storm wrapped in silk and banners. Lords and knights pour into the Red Keep, armor gleaming, ambitions sharper than their blades. Among them rides the king’s nephew, Valarr Targaryen, heir to a respected branch of the royal line, composed and deliberate in every movement. He does not enter loudly. He does not seek attention. He simply commands it. And when his gaze first meets Desiree’s across the courtyard, there is no hunger in it—only focus.
Everyone in the gang knows Johnny’s little sister is off-limits.
The rumors begin as laughter.
Forks, Washington is the kind of town where nothing ever changes.
Desiree grows up beneath spectacle and instability, the only daughter of a prince everyone calls mad in hushed tones. She learns early how to tilt her head and smile when people watch too closely, how to drift just enough to be underestimated. She wanders corridors barefoot, speaks to dragon skulls as if they answer, hums in empty courtyards. Courtiers call her dream-touched. Servants say she laughs at nothing. Some swear she stares too long at flames.
Desiree grows up beneath spectacle and instability, the only daughter of a prince everyone calls mad in hushed tones. She learns early how to tilt her head and smile when people watch too closely, how to drift just enough to be underestimated. She wanders corridors barefoot, speaks to dragon skulls as if they answer, hums in empty courtyards. Courtiers call her dream-touched. Servants say she laughs at nothing. Some swear she stares too long at flames.
It starts with Casey Becker.
Desiree Grimes had known Shane Walsh for most of her life.
Lately, things between Rafe and his sister’s best friend have shifted into something darker. What began as harmless teasing and overprotectiveness has turned into an all-consuming fixation. He follows her without meaning to, growing angry at every guy who talks to her and convinced no one else deserves her attention. The more she tries to keep her distance, the tighter his hold becomes. Love, for Rafe, isn’t gentle—it’s obsession, and he’ll do anything to keep her close, no matter the cost.
Lately, things between Rafe and his sister’s best friend have shifted into something darker. What began as harmless teasing and overprotectiveness has turned into an all-consuming fixation. He follows her without meaning to, growing angry at every guy who talks to her and convinced no one else deserves her attention. The more she tries to keep her distance, the tighter his hold becomes. Love, for Rafe, isn’t gentle—it’s obsession, and he’ll do anything to keep her close, no matter the cost.
The North does not often host grand events.
In Hawkins, Desiree Wheeler is Mike’s older sister—sharp, stubborn, and already tangled in the town’s growing supernatural chaos when she and Steve Harrington break up at the start of the school year. She insists she’s fine, focused on helping Mike and his friends, but the split still hangs over her like static. Jonathan Byers—quiet, thoughtful, and always lingering just close enough to notice her—develops a crush he tries to hide. Their slow-burn connection builds in stolen moments: Jonathan stepping in front of danger without hesitation, Desiree patching him up after a close call, long conversations shared in the dim glow of his bedroom lamp. He becomes jealous easily, especially around Steve, unable to mask the way he scans rooms for her or stiffens when someone else makes her laugh. Desiree begins feeling drawn toward Jonathan’s steady warmth, his honesty, and the way he looks at her like she’s something he’s afraid to lose. Their relationship grows in the middle of monsters, secrets, and late-night battles—two people slowly discovering they might want each other more than either expected.
In Hawkins, Desiree Wheeler is Mike’s older sister—sharp, stubborn, and already tangled in the town’s growing supernatural chaos when she and Steve Harrington break up at the start of the school year. She insists she’s fine, focused on helping Mike and his friends, but the split still hangs over her like static. Jonathan Byers—quiet, thoughtful, and always lingering just close enough to notice her—develops a crush he tries to hide. Their slow-burn connection builds in stolen moments: Jonathan stepping in front of danger without hesitation, Desiree patching him up after a close call, long conversations shared in the dim glow of his bedroom lamp. He becomes jealous easily, especially around Steve, unable to mask the way he scans rooms for her or stiffens when someone else makes her laugh. Desiree begins feeling drawn toward Jonathan’s steady warmth, his honesty, and the way he looks at her like she’s something he’s afraid to lose. Their relationship grows in the middle of monsters, secrets, and late-night battles—two people slowly discovering they might want each other more than either expected.
It starts quietly, the way most dangerous things do—shared glances across the Slytherin table, a seat always left open beside her, an unspoken understanding that neither of them ever questioned. From the outside, it looks like an unbreakable friendship forged in first year, two students growing up side by side in a house built on ambition and secrets. Inside it, something far more consuming has been taking root for years, unnoticed by everyone except the boy who feels it tightening around his ribs every time she laughs with someone else.
It starts quietly, the way most dangerous things do—shared glances across the Slytherin table, a seat always left open beside her, an unspoken understanding that neither of them ever questioned. From the outside, it looks like an unbreakable friendship forged in first year, two students growing up side by side in a house built on ambition and secrets. Inside it, something far more consuming has been taking root for years, unnoticed by everyone except the boy who feels it tightening around his ribs every time she laughs with someone else.
Steve Harrington has been in love before, but nothing—nothing—prepared him for Desiree Holiday. They’d only been dating a few months, yet he’s already completely gone for her, the kind of obsessed that makes Robin roll her eyes and Dustin whisper, “He’s whipped.” Steve practically worships the ground she walks on: checking her seatbelt twice, hovering behind her in the dark with a bat in his hand, gripping her waist if any guy looks too long, and going feral inside when someone makes her uncomfortable. Desiree, gentle and soft-spoken with a calming warmth that the group clings to, became the heart of their messed-up little team without even trying. Soon the kids started jokingly calling them “mom” and “dad”—Dustin bringing her snacks like a proud son, Max hiding behind her when Steve lectures her about skateboarding in the Upside Down, Mike groaning whenever Steve says, “Ask your mother.” They’re a unit now: the protective dad and the soft, steady mom who somehow keeps Steve from fighting every single person who looks at her wrong. Even in the middle of danger—blood, monsters, screaming—Steve always finds her hand. Always. Because in his mind, she isn’t just his girlfriend. She’s his future, his whole world, and he’ll burn Hawkins to the ground before he lets anything happen to her.
Steve Harrington has been in love before, but nothing—nothing—prepared him for Desiree Holiday. They’d only been dating a few months, yet he’s already completely gone for her, the kind of obsessed that makes Robin roll her eyes and Dustin whisper, “He’s whipped.” Steve practically worships the ground she walks on: checking her seatbelt twice, hovering behind her in the dark with a bat in his hand, gripping her waist if any guy looks too long, and going feral inside when someone makes her uncomfortable. Desiree, gentle and soft-spoken with a calming warmth that the group clings to, became the heart of their messed-up little team without even trying. Soon the kids started jokingly calling them “mom” and “dad”—Dustin bringing her snacks like a proud son, Max hiding behind her when Steve lectures her about skateboarding in the Upside Down, Mike groaning whenever Steve says, “Ask your mother.” They’re a unit now: the protective dad and the soft, steady mom who somehow keeps Steve from fighting every single person who looks at her wrong. Even in the middle of danger—blood, monsters, screaming—Steve always finds her hand. Always. Because in his mind, she isn’t just his girlfriend. She’s his future, his whole world, and he’ll burn Hawkins to the ground before he lets anything happen to her.
Desiree Beaumont has been part of Anthony Bridgerton’s life for as long as he can remember.
Desiree Beaumont has been part of Anthony Bridgerton’s life for as long as he can remember.
Gotham doesn’t recognize the quiet war happening beneath its neon lights—the one Bruce Wayne fights every time Desiree Holiday walks into a room with someone else’s arm around her waist. Their reunion after Bruce’s return to Gotham is careful and restrained, built on shared memories and long pauses that say more than words ever could; Desiree is proud of the man he’s become, unimpressed by his wealth, and unafraid to call him out when he hides behind sarcasm or silence. Bruce finds himself orbiting her again, drawn back into her gravity despite knowing she belongs—at least publicly—to Harvey Dent, Gotham’s shining promise of lawful justice.
Gotham doesn’t recognize the quiet war happening beneath its neon lights—the one Bruce Wayne fights every time Desiree Holiday walks into a room with someone else’s arm around her waist. Their reunion after Bruce’s return to Gotham is careful and restrained, built on shared memories and long pauses that say more than words ever could; Desiree is proud of the man he’s become, unimpressed by his wealth, and unafraid to call him out when he hides behind sarcasm or silence. Bruce finds himself orbiting her again, drawn back into her gravity despite knowing she belongs—at least publicly—to Harvey Dent, Gotham’s shining promise of lawful justice.
They were never supposed to survive together. When Finnick Odair and Desiree won the Games as co-victors, the Capitol spun it into a fairytale they could sell—two beautiful District 4 tributes who defied death for love. From that moment on, their lives stopped being their own. The Capitol dressed them alike, paraded them through interviews, and demanded soft smiles and lingering touches, forcing them to perform a romance that began as nothing more than survival. On stage, Finnick played the charming lover effortlessly, all teasing grins and confident devotion, while Desiree learned to lean into him just enough to make the cameras believe it. Offstage, though, the act peeled away—late nights sitting in silence after Victory Tours, shared looks that said are you okay?, hands brushing when neither of them was supposed to need comfort. Over time, the line between performance and truth blurred, until Finnick began watching Desiree not for the cameras, but because he needed to know she was still breathing, still there. When President Snow announces the Quarter Quell—reaping tributes from existing victors—it feels like a calculated punishment. District 4 sends them back together, escorted once more onto the luxury train with their mentor Mags, whose quiet strength steadies them, and their Capitol escort, who chirps about outfits and odds as if this isn’t a death sentence. The train hums through the districts while the weight of reality settles in: they are going back to the arena with other victors, legends who know how to kill. Finnick keeps a hand on Desiree’s knee beneath the table, not for show this time, grounding himself in the truth that terrifies him most—he loves her. Desiree, who once told herself their affection was only a script, finally allows herself to admit that she trusts Finnick more than anyone alive. As they prepare for the Capitol and another arena, their fake love story becomes the most dangerous thing of all: something real the Capitol can exploit, and something neither of them is willing to lose.
They were never supposed to survive together. When Finnick Odair and Desiree won the Games as co-victors, the Capitol spun it into a fairytale they could sell—two beautiful District 4 tributes who defied death for love. From that moment on, their lives stopped being their own. The Capitol dressed them alike, paraded them through interviews, and demanded soft smiles and lingering touches, forcing them to perform a romance that began as nothing more than survival. On stage, Finnick played the charming lover effortlessly, all teasing grins and confident devotion, while Desiree learned to lean into him just enough to make the cameras believe it. Offstage, though, the act peeled away—late nights sitting in silence after Victory Tours, shared looks that said are you okay?, hands brushing when neither of them was supposed to need comfort. Over time, the line between performance and truth blurred, until Finnick began watching Desiree not for the cameras, but because he needed to know she was still breathing, still there. When President Snow announces the Quarter Quell—reaping tributes from existing victors—it feels like a calculated punishment. District 4 sends them back together, escorted once more onto the luxury train with their mentor Mags, whose quiet strength steadies them, and their Capitol escort, who chirps about outfits and odds as if this isn’t a death sentence. The train hums through the districts while the weight of reality settles in: they are going back to the arena with other victors, legends who know how to kill. Finnick keeps a hand on Desiree’s knee beneath the table, not for show this time, grounding himself in the truth that terrifies him most—he loves her. Desiree, who once told herself their affection was only a script, finally allows herself to admit that she trusts Finnick more than anyone alive. As they prepare for the Capitol and another arena, their fake love story becomes the most dangerous thing of all: something real the Capitol can exploit, and something neither of them is willing to lose.
Victory does not bring peace — but it leaves behind possibility.
Billy Hargrove falls in love with Desiree Hopper—008—quietly and completely, the kind of love that settles deep and never loosens its grip, already devoted to her long before anyone realizes what she is or where she came from; Desiree, who escaped Hawkins Lab years ago and was taken in by Jim Hopper as his own, speaks in full sentences but often shortens them out of habit because it’s easier, safer, familiar, and with Billy she never feels the need to explain herself, only to exist—she drifts toward him instinctively, curls into his side when things get loud, and grounds herself by holding onto his shirt while he becomes unrecognizable around her, voice soft, movements careful, rage restrained by the simple knowledge that she’s watching; Billy is obsessively in love with her, overprotective to the point of instinct, always positioning himself between Desiree and anyone who looks at her too long or asks too many questions, jealousy flaring quietly but intensely as closeness rather than confrontation, arm locked around her shoulders, hand firm at her waist, daring the world to try; when whispers begin about a girl who escaped the lab and unfinished experiments still being hunted, Billy doesn’t hesitate or panic—he just decides, silently and permanently, that no one is ever taking her back, not the government, not Hawkins, not the monsters that stir beneath it, and Desiree, who once survived by running and hiding, stays exactly where she is, pressed into his chest, murmuring soft, clipped reassurances because for the first time in her life she isn’t something being chased—she’s something being protected.
Billy Hargrove falls in love with Desiree Hopper—008—quietly and completely, the kind of love that settles deep and never loosens its grip, already devoted to her long before anyone realizes what she is or where she came from; Desiree, who escaped Hawkins Lab years ago and was taken in by Jim Hopper as his own, speaks in full sentences but often shortens them out of habit because it’s easier, safer, familiar, and with Billy she never feels the need to explain herself, only to exist—she drifts toward him instinctively, curls into his side when things get loud, and grounds herself by holding onto his shirt while he becomes unrecognizable around her, voice soft, movements careful, rage restrained by the simple knowledge that she’s watching; Billy is obsessively in love with her, overprotective to the point of instinct, always positioning himself between Desiree and anyone who looks at her too long or asks too many questions, jealousy flaring quietly but intensely as closeness rather than confrontation, arm locked around her shoulders, hand firm at her waist, daring the world to try; when whispers begin about a girl who escaped the lab and unfinished experiments still being hunted, Billy doesn’t hesitate or panic—he just decides, silently and permanently, that no one is ever taking her back, not the government, not Hawkins, not the monsters that stir beneath it, and Desiree, who once survived by running and hiding, stays exactly where she is, pressed into his chest, murmuring soft, clipped reassurances because for the first time in her life she isn’t something being chased—she’s something being protected.
When eleven-year-old Jordan Holiday’s name is called at the reaping, the world seems to stop — until Desiree Holiday, small, quiet, and unassuming to most of District 2, steps forward and volunteers before her voice can tremble. Across the stage, Cato Hadley — tall, lethal, and bred for the Games — volunteers with the kind of practiced confidence that makes the crowd lean back, but even he pauses when Desiree joins him. In training, the careers watch her like she’s a fragile tag-along destined to die early, until the Capitol trainers discover the truth: Desiree moves like a shadow, able to slip behind people without a sound, track unnoticed, disappear into crowds, and climb with a speed and precision that leaves even the professionals surprised. Her slingshot and throwing accuracy are razor-sharp, every strike deliberate, every hit quiet. When she earns a ten, the careers scoff — all except Cato, whose attention sharpens into something fierce and possessive he can’t hide. He finds himself watching her constantly, stepping in front of her whenever another tribute gets too close, bristling when anyone else talks to her, and growing obsessed with the soft voice, sharp mind, and unexpected strength she tries to downplay. With a Capitol determined to paint them as a District 2 power duo, Cato becomes increasingly overprotective, jealous, and deeply, dangerously in love with the girl who volunteered for her sister — the only person who makes him feel something other than violence.
When eleven-year-old Jordan Holiday’s name is called at the reaping, the world seems to stop — until Desiree Holiday, small, quiet, and unassuming to most of District 2, steps forward and volunteers before her voice can tremble. Across the stage, Cato Hadley — tall, lethal, and bred for the Games — volunteers with the kind of practiced confidence that makes the crowd lean back, but even he pauses when Desiree joins him. In training, the careers watch her like she’s a fragile tag-along destined to die early, until the Capitol trainers discover the truth: Desiree moves like a shadow, able to slip behind people without a sound, track unnoticed, disappear into crowds, and climb with a speed and precision that leaves even the professionals surprised. Her slingshot and throwing accuracy are razor-sharp, every strike deliberate, every hit quiet. When she earns a ten, the careers scoff — all except Cato, whose attention sharpens into something fierce and possessive he can’t hide. He finds himself watching her constantly, stepping in front of her whenever another tribute gets too close, bristling when anyone else talks to her, and growing obsessed with the soft voice, sharp mind, and unexpected strength she tries to downplay. With a Capitol determined to paint them as a District 2 power duo, Cato becomes increasingly overprotective, jealous, and deeply, dangerously in love with the girl who volunteered for her sister — the only person who makes him feel something other than violence.
Winterfell does not welcome Lannisters warmly. It never has. The shift is immediate the moment Desiree Lannister arrives—subtle, but unmistakable. Conversations quiet slightly when she passes, eyes linger a second too long, not with admiration but suspicion. She notices, the way she notices most things, and chooses not to let it touch her.
Winterfell does not welcome Lannisters warmly. It never has. The shift is immediate the moment Desiree Lannister arrives—subtle, but unmistakable. Conversations quiet slightly when she passes, eyes linger a second too long, not with admiration but suspicion. She notices, the way she notices most things, and chooses not to let it touch her.
Their relationship is intense from the start — not gentle, not cautious, but consuming. Rafe falls hard and fast, and Desiree lets him, fully aware of exactly what kind of man he is. She chooses him anyway, and that choice becomes everything to him. Everyone wants her — strangers linger too long, old friends push boundaries, new faces test their luck — and Rafe notices every single time. His jealousy is sharp and irrational, often spiraling into arguments that start loud and end breathless, foreheads pressed together, eyes locked like they’re daring the other to walk away. Neither ever does.
Their relationship is intense from the start — not gentle, not cautious, but consuming. Rafe falls hard and fast, and Desiree lets him, fully aware of exactly what kind of man he is. She chooses him anyway, and that choice becomes everything to him. Everyone wants her — strangers linger too long, old friends push boundaries, new faces test their luck — and Rafe notices every single time. His jealousy is sharp and irrational, often spiraling into arguments that start loud and end breathless, foreheads pressed together, eyes locked like they’re daring the other to walk away. Neither ever does.
Desiree Holiday is an eighteen-year-old girl who has spent her entire life believing she’s completely ordinary. Raised by her mother in a small town bordering miles of dense forest, she’s always been warned to stay away from the woods, though she’s never understood why. Her father supposedly died before she was born, leaving behind no photographs, belongings, or stories—only unanswered questions that her mother refuses to discuss. Everything changes one rainy evening when Desiree’s car breaks down near the forest. With no signal and nowhere else to go, she ventures inside looking for help, only to encounter the creature every local legend has warned about. Slenderman should have killed her the moment he found her. Instead, he senses something strangely familiar within her blood. Curious rather than threatened, he takes her back to his hidden mansion deep within the woods, determined to figure out why an ordinary human survived an encounter that should have driven her insane.
Desiree Holiday is an eighteen-year-old girl who has spent her entire life believing she’s completely ordinary. Raised by her mother in a small town bordering miles of dense forest, she’s always been warned to stay away from the woods, though she’s never understood why. Her father supposedly died before she was born, leaving behind no photographs, belongings, or stories—only unanswered questions that her mother refuses to discuss. Everything changes one rainy evening when Desiree’s car breaks down near the forest. With no signal and nowhere else to go, she ventures inside looking for help, only to encounter the creature every local legend has warned about. Slenderman should have killed her the moment he found her. Instead, he senses something strangely familiar within her blood. Curious rather than threatened, he takes her back to his hidden mansion deep within the woods, determined to figure out why an ordinary human survived an encounter that should have driven her insane.
Desiree had never belonged to the name she carried.
When Billy first comes to Hawkins, he expects everything to be easy—people predictable, small-town life boring, faces blending together. Desiree Byers is the first disruption to that expectation. She doesn’t stare when he walks in. She doesn’t whisper. She doesn’t react at all. While others either fear him or gravitate toward his energy, Desiree keeps her head down, music humming through her headphones, eyes focused on her camera or the floor. It irritates him more than it should. He tries provoking her—sarcastic comments, lingering looks, pushing into her space—but she meets him with indifference or a sharp remark that cuts clean and leaves no room for argument. She doesn’t flirt back. She doesn’t soften. She doesn’t want him.
When Billy first comes to Hawkins, he expects everything to be easy—people predictable, small-town life boring, faces blending together. Desiree Byers is the first disruption to that expectation. She doesn’t stare when he walks in. She doesn’t whisper. She doesn’t react at all. While others either fear him or gravitate toward his energy, Desiree keeps her head down, music humming through her headphones, eyes focused on her camera or the floor. It irritates him more than it should. He tries provoking her—sarcastic comments, lingering looks, pushing into her space—but she meets him with indifference or a sharp remark that cuts clean and leaves no room for argument. She doesn’t flirt back. She doesn’t soften. She doesn’t want him.