#and she replied something along the lines of ‘it’s easy to write a letter of rec for you’

[manhattan-gamestop]

Quick reminder for all of us low self-esteem havers that we’re easier to love than we think

[casualaruanienjoyer]

Idea: Assuming Jeankasa is endgame (e.g. he’s the man with her at the grave in her last scenes), how do you think that relationship progressed?

Hello Anon! Thank you for sending me a request! I hope you're having a nice day🥺

I love the idea of Jeankasa ending, I think Mikasa deserves to be happy😭 in my head it takes a while, but they do eventually get together. So here's a lil something for you!

Wish I could be there with you

Everyone knows that Jean had a thing for Mikasa. He finds her to be incredibly beautiful, but also determined, ambitious and most of all, kind.

He knew that for a long time there was no space in her heart for anyone but Eren, and any advances would be nearly pointless. Jean was not happy with how Mikasa was treated by Eren, it always felt that he was dragging her along, aware of her feelings for him but not man enough to acknowledge them. But this was none of his business, really. He was only a bystander.

Then the Rumbling happened, the end of the world came and went and Mikasa was nowhere to be seen. He worried for her, but this is Mikasa they were talking about.

When news came that she made it back to Paradis he was relieved. He decided to start sending out letters the moment they were able to. Asking how she was doing, about Paradis, telling her about his life with the other Ambassadors.

Mikasa's letters were considerably shorter than his at first, but over time they became a source of comfort for her. Talking to Jean felt like owning a diary. He was easy to talk to, and he made her laugh sometimes. It took her a while but over time she started opening up about her feelings. About how lonely she felt every day.

"I wish I could be there with you, Mikasa" was a line she kept reading over and over.

Years pass and the Alliance arrived back to Paradis. Jean spent a comical amount of time fixing his hair, his face and suit. He’s wearing his best perfume.

As they disembark he spots Mikasa in the crowd, smiling. He can't help but sprint towards her, but when he gets close his nervousness gets the better of him yet again.

"H-hi! Mikasa" he says, smiling awkwardly.

Her hair had grown long again. She looks thinner and a bit tired, but she’s smiling nonetheless. Oh god, Jean forgot how to function completely. Has she always been this pretty?

"Hello Jean. Welcome back." She says softly.

"Y-yeah-um Mikasa I-" but then everyone else circled around Mikasa, Connie, Armin, even Reiner and Annie, and they all hugged and laughed together. The moment was lost.

This wasn't Jean's chance.

Later that night everyone agreed to go out drinking. They wanted to celebrate not only the reunion with Mikasa, but with their families and home. Armin and Jean had booked a table at a pub nearby which had lots of different kinds of food and alcohol to enjoy.

The table is rowdy, Reiner and Connie singing, Pieck bringing over more and more booze, Armin gazing at Annie lovingly, completely drunk while Annie munches on various desserts off the pub's menu. Jean only had a bit to drink, but can’t take his eyes off Mikasa. He feels bad, was it really ok for him to have feelings for her still? After everything that happened? Was it fair on her?

But then Mikasa walks over and asks him to come out for some fresh air and he agrees. The pub air was becoming a bit stuffy. They exit through the backdoor into a beer garden, which wasn’t currently in use as it was still cold outside. The two of them lean against a brick wall, admiring the beautiful trees and decorations in the garden.

"Jean" she says softly. So softly.

"Ah-yeah? Um, how are you?" Jean manages to reply. His cheeks are red, partly from the alcohol but mostly because they’re standing so close to eachother.

"I've been well. Thank you... for being there for me. For writing all those letters." She looks at him with a tiny smile on her lips. Her cheeks are the same colour as his, but Jean can’t remember if she had anything to drink.

"Of course, you're our friend. We were all so worried about you" he says sheepishly.

"Mhhmm" she hums.

There’s silence for a while.

"Say, Jean, I've been meaning to ask, what did you mean by..."she pulls a little letter out of her pocket, unfolding it. "This" Her finger points at a line that reads: "I wish I could be there with you, Mikasa" which makes Jean blush even deeper.

"W-well, you see..." all the replies he had prepared in his head, all the pick up lines, seductive and charming ideas are gone. His brain is now pudding, unable to form anything coherent. He clears his throat.

"I misses you. A lot" Mikasa says.

"We missed you t-"

"No, Jean, I missed -you-." She turns towards Jean, now leaning on her side, her face unreadable. Her tone is serious.

"I- I also missed you" he replies in a weak voice. Is this really ok? He doesn’t want to hurt her, or himself.

She takes one of his hands in hers, not breaking their eye contact. "Are you, holding back?" Her gesture makes him snap out of his worries.

"Of course I am, Mikasa!" He squeezes her hand tightly, turning to face her. "There's nothing more I want to do right now than to hold you, but I'm worried, you know?" His face is beet red, and Mikasa can feel his hand shaking slightly. "I've been so worried about you, a-and then I saw you and you looked so-"

He suddenly feels very warm, realizing that Mikasa pulled him into a tight embrace. Was he dreaming? Or maybe he died and ascended to heaven?

"I also... wanted to hold you. I was so lonely, for a long time I didn't know what to do with myself. With, Eren gone and everything." She mutters into his chest.

Jean hugs her back tightly. He couldn't imagine just how lonely she must have been.

"But reading letters from you and the rest helped me realize that I need to move on. For him and for myself" her grip on his shirt is tight. She looks up to see Jean glancing down at her, smiling.

"Will you help me learn how to live for myself?"

Jean's hand reaches up to stroke her hair.

"Of course"

It might take months, maybe even years for Jean to tell her how he really feels, but for now all he wants is to hold her for a little longer.

💜This fic is now also on AO3 !

[sleekervae]

Past Lives [0.8]

Masterlist

A/N: Hello again. This is your daily reminder, if no one's told you, to keep your mental health in check. Take a personal day if you need, hug your pet, or eat some yummy food. Point is, self care is king and I have a hard time remembering that sometimes, so I remind myself by reminding all of you :)

Anyway, this segment is gonna' be shorter. I think the next one will be too, but please bare with me. It'll be worth it all in the end.

Warnings: none

--

Four weeks were quick in hindsight, however they felt as though they dragged on. Austin filled his time as much as he could in all practicality, though given his current project it wasn't hard. The hours were long, the outdoor and night shoots were bone chilling and the studio shoots were no less merciful. Nevertheless, Austin got on well with his cast mates and went along whenever they'd have outings outside of filming. And in his down time he spent getting comfortable in his brownstone. He was proud of himself as he was getting a hang of this cooking thing -- for his standards, at least. He had sent Jade a picture of a chicken he'd prepared with some roasted vegetables, his smile wide when she replied with a few gifs of approval from The Office.

The London rains poured heavy and unforgiving, to most people it would signify the end of their work day and they could stay safe and warm in their homes. Austin however wasn't so fortunate, he had to return to the studio for some night shoots in a few hours. He didn't mind the night shoots so much, the intensity of the scene was much more evident and much more hilarity always ensued when the cast and crew were pushed just passed their bedtime.

He kicked off his boots, dropped his jacket on the hook and shook out his damp hair and hood. The strange brownstone was becoming much more familiar now, not quite a home but a safe refuge for him to recover and relax, ignore the outside and all. His eyes averted down to the stack of mail that had been dropped off for him. There were some bills, coupons for fast food chains, and a postmarked envelope all the way from America.

His spirit was lifted a little as Austin ripped the envelope open, unfolding the one-paged letter scrawled out in familiar hand writing. With his type writer still in great shape, Austin had decided to type out and send Jade a letter the old fashioned way. It felt so odd at first, he was a little self conscious as he wondered that she'd think it was silly. However, Jade texted him a few days later, elated in her thanks and surprise because no one in her inner circle had sent her something so personalized. She had jokingly told him she had some notes for his writing; and not a week later, she had sent one back to Austin.

He wandered through his living room, plopping down on his couch as his eyes skimmed over her handwriting, legible though some scribbled lines appeared more difficult to discern from time to time. He could see where she had pressed so hard her pen had almost punctured through the paper, and somehow that made him even more excited to read.

A smile wormed its way across his face, her enthusiasm and bubbly nature just bursted off of the page with every pen stroke. He could picture her now; green eyes sparkling and olive skin sheeny in the California heat. He wondered what she wore when she wrote, whether she found it naturally easy to put this together, or if she had struggled just as much as he had. Nevertheless, getting her response put a glimmer in what had so far been a bleary, dreary day.

Austin looked down at the empty spot on his couch, remembering how she had curled up next to him during their movie; how close she'd pressed herself to him, how every time her fingers brushed against his he had this instinct to clasp onto her hand. She was a warm presence he missed terribly.

He had found her contact in his phone, thumb hovering between the call and message buttons. Doing the math in his head, it was probably about nine in the morning there, she would definitely be awake.

It had been a solid month and a half, and Jade still felt out of her element. It wasn't as though she hadn't tried; she had decorated her spacious loft with all of her old things, picked up some new shelf ornaments and books from a thrift store down the street. And her view of Hancock Park was immaculate. Of course because her neighbourhood was so gated, making friends with the neighbours wasn't the easiest feat.

It wasn't the worst thing, however; nobody would come over to bother her. Half of her was drawn to the romanticism of this artist who had found success was now living in this quaint little place by herself, but she was also lonely, vulnerable, and welcomed her friends coming over or taking the invitation to venture out. And of course Jade had her weekly therapy sessions over Zoom, now at a more appropriate hour in the day time for her.

Her therapist had told her to keep writing, don't let those emotions bottle in and not judge herself for having them. So that's what she did day in and day out. She and her band mates had set up a makeshift studio in her loft so they could all gather and record in discreet comfort.

Jade's family was calling in to check on her and welcome her back into the timezone (her mom and sibling were still in Toronto so they were only three hours ahead, but we digress). It didn't take long however before Cam gave Jade the update on her ex. He'd gotten the word she was back in town, and no matter how much he harassed and bombarded Cam and other members of her team, they wouldn't tell him where Jade was. But he was in the business too, it wouldn't be long until she either had a run in or he would end up finding her. Nevertheless, Jade was in a secured building with cameras, a buzzer, and a desk clerk, so she felt pretty at ease about it.

A lot had changed for her.

But then nothing had.

It was a sunny Saturday morning. The neighbourhood was quiet as usual, maybe the odd jogger would pass by or a dog could be heard barking in the distance. Jade had cracked open a window by her kitchen table, sitting with her tea and a ukulele. Her focus however was further captured by the folded letter sitting at the end of the table, placed along with more miscellaneous mail that had come the week previous. She strummed lazily at her instrument, curiosity in her gut bubbling into apprehension as she stitched semblances of a song together. Some days it was easier to write than others, of course on the days when her mind wandered elsewhere, there was fat chance of her being productive at all.

She exhaled slowly, reaching out across the table again to pick up the letter. It still felt so odd, like a trembling weight of energy in her fingers that threatened to implode in her hands from the sheer weight of its impact. Jade's career was based on writing, and yet even she had never thought about writing a letter to someone, let alone receiving one. She read it for maybe the twentieth time that week, his soft, raspy voice echoing between her ears as she read word-for-word.

She looked out the window as she set the paper down, trying to calm the fluttering in her chest. She was sated to know she he missed her just as much as she missed him, though he seemed precarious in his writing to her and she hoped she had given back the same level of walking the fine line of their... friendship? She knew they agreed to keep it as a friendship, but it didn't feel deep enough to describe what they had, or what they'd done to each other.

Her phone buzzed, effectively snapping her attention and she reached across the table to answer the FaceTime call. Florence's picture popped up.

"Hey!" Jade grinned as she answered. Florence was in her own kitchen, her apron thrown on hastily and hairs sticking out of her messy bun. 

"Hello!" she smiled, standing over her stovetop, "You know, I had this fantastic idea this morning,"

"Indulge me," Jade said, sipping her tea.

"You move back here and cook dinner with me because it's no fun doing it by myself, now," she suggested. 

Jade simpered, "Or you could come move here and have eggos with me?" she replied.

"I would, but you guys don't have hobnobs," Florence shrugged.

"And you don't have candy corn, but you don't hear me extorting you to move again," Jade said.

"Fair,"

"What's for dinner?" Jade asked, eyebrows knitting together as another notification popped up on her phone. Austin had texted her.

Hey :) I got your letter, thank you

She tried to keep her focus, though her heart thudded in her chest as she read his message, seemingly over and over. Florence went on and on about whatever she was throwing together for dinner, her words getting lost in Jade's ears as she typed back.

You're very welcome. How'd I do?

He responded a minute later.

To quote a musician friend of mine: I have some notes

Go away

Much to her delight, he responded with a Dwight Schrute gif.

"... ade? Hello? Jade!? Earth to Jade!" Florence suddenly grasped her attention back. She was staring hard into the camera, "I'm talking to you! What're you doing?" 

"I'm listening!" Jade exclaimed. 

Florence scowled, "Oh, are you? What did I just say?"

"That you're cooking dinner,"

"And what am I making for dinner?"

"... Chicken?" she shrugged.

"I'm making prawns, you lemon!" Florence pouted, "What're you doing, anyhow?"

"I was just reading," Jade admitted, "I know, it's rude of me,"

"Oh yeah?" Florence popped a brow, now munching on a piece of bell pepper, "Whatcha reading? Texts from your American sweetie pie?"

"A: he's not my sweetie pie. B: and if I was?" 

"I'd only be slightly offended. I mean, what's the guy offer you that I don't?" she took a second to think, and then the realization washed over her, "Oh yeah: cock," 

Jade glowered at her friend, "In front of the prawns, Flo?"

"Hey! You can't deny it now! You were trending on Buzzfeed for a week!" Florence exclaimed.

She rolled her eyes, "Girl can't even get a moment of weakness to herself these days," she mumbled. 

"Ugh, I know. Being photographed making out with Elvis Presley reincarnate must be so tough," Florence teased back. 

Jade flipped her the bird.

Florence chuckled gingerly, "Alright, what's he been saying, then?" she asked, "Unless of course it's not meant for virgin ears,"

Jade glowered back, "If you're a virgin, I'm Jane Fonda," she replied, "We just talk,"

"About what?"

"About stuff! He was telling me how he might be going to the Met,"

"Gala?" she echoed incredulously, "Even I've never been! How'd he get one so quick?"

"I said he might be," she simpered, "And probably because it's Elvis and Bad Lurhmann and it's great award fodder,"

"Are you gonna go again?" Florence asked.

"Tell you what -- if I get an invite, you'll be my date," Jade decided.

"Damn," she shook her head, "I should've been recording all this, then. Unless of course Mr. Presley asks you,"

"Yeah, right," Jade scoffed, "He's got better options, I'm sure,"

"Jade," Flo scolded.

"I'm just saying," Jade shrugged back.

Florence rolled her eyes, "Come on, now. I spent a whole year building up your self esteem again; at least pretend so I can feel a little important,"

"Dude, please. You're one of the most important people in my life," she grinned back.

"... More important than Mason?" she queried playfully.

Jade sighed, "When they're not around... yes. When they are -- well, tough luck, kid,"

[oletus-hullabaloo]

What seemed to be a fabric brushing along Quinlan’s shoulder in a gentle tap to gain his attention could be felt before the figure pulled away as soon as they had done the movement, opting to shift and take their top-hat within their hands (one, notably partly stitched by the same fabric from before) instead dipping in the manner of a bow. A single wolf ear flicked as they strained a smile against their own stitchings present on their mouth and snapped.

From seemingly thin air and the golden light lining it together before it seemed to practically manifest before reality, a scroll was present suddenly, donning illuminated ink that shone.

Greetings, Dear Friend. I apologize for I and Wick’s absence, for I presume the Ball has reached its conclusion already?

A tsk at the missed opportunity as the Wick in question fluttered behind Specter’s legs, bouncing with a small bark directed at Quinlan; though the dog in an almost guarded stance around others, she seemed to be more at ease this time around.

Though, do entertain us, what was such celebration like?

Balls were something reminiscent to them, already, it was nothing new to experience aside from the more particular guests invited— but, wherever the shop would go, they would follow, and it would not hurt to take one of the fewer times they left from the shop for a small chat at least.

~ 🪡

🎃 QUINLAN [TEA PARTY] HAS RECEIVED YOUR LETTER! 🎃

Quinlan had been preoccupied, so it proved, bent over a book with his Phoenix-stolen feather in hand. It dripped with a shimmering orange ink before it disappeared, even though there was no inkwell present.

The small rabbit oft perched on his shoulder wasn't around either, instead electing to grow as soon as its feet touched the ground into a far more sizeable creature and begin to chase Wick around. This was standard practice, all in good fun, and it was known that they meant no harm.

This did bring a smile, but one that fell momentarily as the touch was felt. Yes, his visitor... Wick did not often come alone. Pivoting on his heel to face Spectre, Quinlan straightened his bow-tie, bowing almost comically and bringing his own top-hat to his chest in tandem with the flourish.

Quinlan clapped his hands both in a show of joy and to snap himself back to task, taking the quill back from its suddenly materialised ink pot and beginning to write his reply on the parchment that'd unravelled before his eyes. Even if his words faded away, he knew better than to think the wolf-boy wouldn't be able to read them.

Things never worked in such a straightforward way in their land.

"Oh, my dear friend. It's been much too long! Surely my uncle sent you an invitation to the ball? I'd not be surprised if he forgot... In any case, let's not throw accusations about. People are often busy, and those who live for as long as you or I? Time warps and makes deadlines far too easy to disregard.

The ball was a joy to attend, as always, and the Count didn't make too much of a fuss about my antics. You needn't worry about me. I only wish you were there. Silent company is no less delightful, and you provide respite when it gets too loud, much as I'm flamboyant myself.

You'll be glad to know, though, that I saved some tea sets that Miss Eclectic had made from the ball - maybe you'd like to sell them as souvenirs? Dear Uncle wants them gone, but I think they're rather pretty. They'd be a shame to waste."

And with the setting of the feather in its inkwell, the likes of which was present again, Quinlan and his rabbit both faded in a night-borne mirage.

[assassin-rumi]

Darren belongs to @anemoii-a (It’s finally up >///< )

So I had this thought for ages about Evie and Jacob parting ways and how that would affect them both. And then I had a little story in my head that I thought about writing but as it turns out; writing is hard. So I will just explain it here:

Evie and Jacob part as friends; Evie is excited for her new future and adventure that she chose for herself. Jacob is happy for his sister. He understands and wants to have the chance to prove himself a capable leader without standing in the shadow of Evie. 

However, some many weeks after arriving in India Evie is awaiting some return correspondence from Jacob, and does not receive any, even weeks after a return letter should have been expected. Worried that something might have happened to her dear brother, Evie applies to Darren instead.

When Darren receives the letter he finds Jacob at his letter desk with three open letters, a bottle of wine and a black piece of paper.

 As it happens, Jacob is not ignoring Evie’s letters, he is just having trouble articulating his thoughts; while he is glad to be independent of Evie, this newfound responsibility is slightly overwhelming and he can’t help feel somewhat abandoned by her, even though he knows its irrational. Furthermore, he is struggling to cope with being so apart from her for the first time in his life. He has never had to write anything of substance to her, and knowing any reply he will get from her will be weeks away means he feels what he write must be more important and meaningful, and this makes the act of writing anything at all more daunting. 

As Darren has an older brother whom he cannot always be with, he understands some of what Jacob is feeling. He pokes a little fun at Jacob to try and lighten the mood. Then he offers some useful advice, probably something along the lines of “Evie has always known the worst of you; nothing could disappoint her, except maybe nothing at all”, then he squeezes a shoulder, then he leaves.

Jacob stares blankly at his flickering lamp post, feels the rattle of the train as it endlessly chugs along, then he writes. He writes simply, but everything he writes is real. He tries not to think too much about what he should write, and just keeps writing, knowing that Evie will be all too overjoyed to read anything that is simply Jacob.

---------

I really like Darren as a companion for Jacob. They are so different but their personalities mesh so well. And he’s so well written it’s easy to forget he’s not in the canon. Even though I spend most of my time thinking of Henry and Evie’s adventures, I occasionally like to think of side stories like “What are Jacob and Darren doing right now?” XD

[writing-in-a-chipotle]

Unbearably Mortal (Part 2)

(Alcina Dimitrescu x gender neutral reader)

Part 1

Words: ~2.5 K

Summary: In which a lot of things happen and none of them are good.

A/N: Hey, y’all! Back at it again with another chapter! Hope you enjoy!

“Nope nope nope nope… no way in hell…” You shook your head violently, unable to process what Mary had said. “This is… this is all some sort of elaborate prank, right? You’re messing with me. Yeah.” You swallowed. Your saliva felt like acid.

Mary grimaced. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t a game. This is very much reality.”

“So… what are they then?” You began pacing the floor, anxiety clinging to the pit of your stomach. “You expect me to believe that they’re some sort of weird, blood-sucking vampires?? You must be out of your mind… they don’t exist! They can’t be real!”

Mary stood up and walked over to you, gently placing her hands on your shoulders. With her blocking your path, you were forced to stop pacing and look at her.

“Listen,” She began, eyes gleaming with fear “I have no need to lie to you. Believe whatever you want to believe, for the only thing on the line right now is your head. Jane and I risked our lives to save you. If we were caught, all of us would have died. So, are you going to freak out and get yourself killed, or are you gonna listen to me?”

You were stunned into silence. Mary was being deathly serious. You nodded shakily.

“Good.” Mary breathed a sigh of relief. “If you had a mental breakdown and they heard…” She didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t need to either; the implication was horrifying enough as it was.

“Thank you, by the way,” you sighed, sitting back down on the bed, “you really didn’t have to save me.”

“Honestly, I’m still scared out of my mind,” she admitted breathily, “but I’m glad you’re better now.”

“Thanks.”

She hummed, then pursed her lips. Her frown deepened even more. “Well… now what do we do? The Dimitrescu family is notorious for slaughtering any trespassers they find.”

Your eyes widened and your stomach dropped. “Oh no… oh no, no, no…”

You were stuck. You were stuck in a terrifying castle with horrifying, blood-sucking monsters who would gladly turn you into a mangled corpse on their living room floor. You had no way to call for help, and your parents probably didn’t even know what was happening…

Your phone.

You patted your pockets and fished through them. Let’s see: some dirt, a crumpled flight itinerary, your house keys… aha!

“...what’s in the box?” Mary asked, “I don't think I’ve seen anything like it before.”

You blinked. Box? “Oh, this? It’s my phone.” You rotated it slowly in your fingers so she could easily see all its sides. “It’s a bit larger and blockier than your average iPhone because it’s designed to connect directly to the satellite, making it easy to call anyone from anywhere in the world. It cost me a lot of money, but since I was planning on traveling the world after I graduated, I decided it wouldn’t hurt to have it a few years early.”

Mary gave you a completely confused stare. “What’s an… iPhone? Or a sad-del-light? Did you make those up?”

You frowned, your eyebrow twitching in confusion. “Uh… no? I wouldn’t make anything like this up. You… you truly don’t know what modern technology is like?”

She shook her head. “I’ve… never been outside the village. I have no idea what the rest of the world is like.”

“And you don’t have a phone? Internet? Anything??”

“I’m afraid not,” She fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, “the Lords don’t allow anyone to leave the village or write letters to the outside world.”

A chill shot up your spine. “That’s… terrifying…”

Mary nodded, then tilted her head, thinking. She pursed her lips and motioned with her finger for you to come closer. You lean your ear to her.

“What is it?” You whisper.

“There are rumors of a girl who escaped the Lord’s wrath,” she began, “apparently, she managed to leave the village unharmed. There was an old hag who used to moan about how her daughter left her for a new life. She sounded half mad, so no one bothered listening to her.”

Your grandmother. She was talking about your grandmother.

And your mom.

This meant that… your mom knew about these crazy monsters? That she let you come here, to a place where you would most likely die? Alone??

Nothing made sense anymore.

You realized you had zoned out of Mary’s story. You shook your head, bringing your attention back to the present.

“Is that a good idea?”

“Uh, sorry, what?” You blinked. Mary was staring at you like you were an idiot. (Which you were, but that’s not the point.)

“I said,” she repeated, “you need to blend in until we can figure out how to escape.”

“That’s… that’s a pretty good idea. And wait….” you repeated her words in your mind. “We? You want to come too?”

“Goddess, it’s like you’re dense or something.” Mary muttered under her breath. “Of course I want to leave! Are you out of your mi-“

“I get it, I get it,” you huffed, interrupting her, “What do we do now?”

“Now,” she folded her arms, “we need to get you a disguise.” She walked over to a tiny dresser in the far corner and pulled out a neatly-folded maid’s uniform. “I hope you’re my size.”

————————

Turns out you weren’t Mary’s size.

You couldn’t help it; your new friend was practically a walking stick. Your shoulders were too broad, your legs too long; but with Mary’s excellent sewing skills, you were able to make it work… sort of.

“Damn, this uniform is itchy,” you complained, scratching at the neckline.

“You’ll grow used to it after a while,” Mary replied. “Now we need to get to work or-“

“We’ll be made into wine. Got it.” You straightened out your sleeves.

She nodded. “Just follow my lead.”

The two of you walked quickly and quietly out of the servant’s quarters. Your heart was racing. Every time you turned a corner, you half expected a bloodied monster to jump the both of you and tear out your arteries.

You rounded another bend and nearly walked into Mary. She had stopped suddenly and immediately fled to the side of the hallway, bowing deeply at the corridor. You quickly followed her lead.

The moment you bowed your head, a steady buzzing filled your ears.

Swarms of flies flitted through your vision as they flew down the hall, buzzing excitedly. Maliciously. You don’t know how they managed to convey such emotions, but they seemed…. off.

And then, they changed.

The insects spiraled and spun into a large, buzzing mass, sewing themselves into a completely different form; one with a deep black cloak, ghoulishly pale hands, wild blonde hair…

And blood-stained teeth.

Mary curtsied deeply and you were quick to follow suit. “Good evening, Lady Bela,” she said softly, refusing to look up, “how may we be of service?”

Bela gave a bored wave of her hand. “We’re a bit... short-staffed in the kitchens at the moment,” she drawled, “Mother doesn’t want dinner to be served a second too late. She-” Her eyes fell on you and she stopped dead in her tracks. “You smell familiar, human…” she growled.

Oh no, you were dead, you were dead, you were dead. Cold sweat fell from your neck, and your heart raced. Bela stepped closer to you, brows furrowed and hungry eyes glinting.

“They’re new, Lady Bela,” Maria said quickly.

She raised an immaculate brow. “New, you say?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“... I see.”

It was only a moment before she leaned away, but to you, it felt like hours. The Dimitrescu was a terrifyingly deadly whirlwind, one that seemed to stare directly into your soul… maybe even smell your fear. Bela’s lips twitched, giving you a glimpse of sharp fangs.

“Well then, newcomer,” she hissed, amusement dripping in her voice, “if you’re so eager to serve us, I want you to pour the wine.”

Your heart raced in panic, your hands shaking. Pouring the wine meant seeing these monsters at their most bloodthirsty. It meant you would get caught.

I won’t survive, you thought fearfully.

You quickly dropped into a clumsy curtsy before you forgot yourself. “A-as you wish, Lady Bela,” you choke out.

“Hm… we’ll see, won’t we.” She dissolved into a sea of flies and flew down the hallway and out of sight.

You breathed heavily. Your heart was still going a mile a minute. Before you could say anything, Mary grabbed your arm and tugged you along.

“Wha-“

“Shh,” she hissed. “Not yet.”

You followed her silently to the kitchen. This whole situation was too hard to process… you’d barely been in Romania for a day and you suddenly had to face the reality of your imminent death.

You felt lightheaded. Your vision swam.

“Where are you, draga mea?” A smooth, enchanting voice swirled in your mind. You felt your pulse hammering in your temples. The voice sounded so close, yet so far away. It was familiar and warm… but it was too hard to tell if it meant anything. You were too woozy, too lightheaded…

“It’s time to wake up, darling,” the voice continued dreamily, “Open your eyes for me?”

“...hey… hey!” A familiar voice hissed, “hello? Are you alright?”

Your eyes snapped open.

Mary stood in front of you, her hands on your shoulders. Once she saw you move, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Are you alright? You haven’t blinked for the past few minutes, nor have you responded to anything or anyone around you.”

“Yeah, I just…” you swallowed thickly. What was wrong with you? “... I just spaced out.” Mary frowned, giving you a suspicious glance, but didn’t push.

You were in the kitchen. Cooks and maids bustled around in an organized fashion, whispering instructions to each other while slicing, cooking, and plating bright red slabs of meat. You definitely didn’t want to know what kind the Dimitrescu’s were eating tonight.

Someone grabbed your arm and you flinched, turning around. It was one of the older cooks, a salt and pepper haired woman with soot-stained clothes and greasy calloused hands. She shoved a a bottle of wine into your hands so fast, you nearly dropped it. She glowered at you.

“As soon as the meal is served, you pop open the bottle and pour for everyone.” She hurriedly rattled off instructions. “When they finish their drink, pour them another. You do not look at them, you do not touch them or their glasses, you don’t even breathe around them. And for the love of the Goddess: Do. Not. Spill.”

You gulped and nodded. You just had to do your job, then leave. That’s all. You could do this.

Or so you told yourself.

The old woman gave you a quick look, and for a moment it seemed she gave you a twinge of a sympathetic smile. But just like that it was gone, replaced by her signature scowl.

“Alright, we go in three…” she held up three fingers covered in burn scars. One second passed. Then another.

The kitchen maids smoothly entered the dining room in one sweeping motion; a flurry of skirts and iron serving trays. You followed them close behind. The maids placed the trays in front of each Dimitrescu before fleeing to the kitchen single file.

And then it hit you.

You were the only maid who was supposed to stay throughout the entire meal.

Without you even knowing it, Bela had assigned you one of the most dangerous jobs at the castle; one where you had to stay, alone, in the same room as four hungry, bloodthirsty vampires.

You quickly began pouring the wine.

You walked around the massive mahogany table, trying your best not to spill the blood-red drink. You poured for Bela first, and you tried your absolute best not to look her in the eye. You didn’t know what you would do if you saw her grinning.

You moved on to the next Dimitrescu: a redhead with glistening fangs. As you poured, she suddenly hissed. In your surprise, you fumbled the bottle. But you didn’t spill.

The last sister (you assumed all three of them were sisters based on their similar appearances) was a brunette with mischievous eyes. You didn’t mean to look at her… you really didn’t…

Based on her low, rumbling cackle, you knew you were doomed.

The last Dimitrescu, the Lady Dimitrescu, was much different than the other three. She was incredibly tall, with a flowing white dress that fell to her ankles, a wide-brimmed hat…

And pearly-white satin gloves.

Why did that seem so familiar?

You shook your head. You had to stop thinking and just pour the wine! You only had one more glass to fill, after all.

The brunette stuck out her foot, and you went down.

You landed on top of the bottle, and it shattered under you. Glass and wine flew everywhere, piercing your clothes, slicing your skin, staining the rug…

And completely drenching the front of Lady Dimitrescu’s immaculate dress.

The air cracked with electricity. “You...” she hissed, in a stranglely familiar voice.

Before you could even beg for forgiveness, the towering terror of a woman stood from the table and grasped you by the collar before you could even blink.

She growled, breath smelling of blood. “You will pay for your insole-“ her breath hitched. Her death grip on you loosened and faded, till you dropped to the floor like a rag doll.

Fearfully, you looked up at her.

Her demeanor had completely changed. Where once stood a cold-hearted monster was a shocked, crying… woman. Tears streaked down her face, dripping from her chin as she sunk to the floor. She didn’t look like a monster, she looked… human.

The lady reached out a gloved hand, then flinched as if burned. She looked lost and confused and sad; unable to process what she was looking at… or rather, who she was looking at.

A chill ran up your spine, fearful tendrils snaking through your system as you both stared into each other’s eyes.

And then, Lady Dimitrescu uttered a single word, barely a whisper at all, and your stomach dropped. Your world spun.

“Y/N?”

You couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Everything you had ever known was completely useless, and your life would end at any moment, you were sure. You felt like crying, you felt like throwing up.

She said your name.

Lady Dimitrescu, one of the most powerful supernatural beings in the world, who couldn’t possibly know who you were, had said your name.

It was too much. There were too many strong emotions, too many near-death experiences in one day. Your body was bloody and exhausted, your energy spent.

You collapsed on the dining room floor, and your vision faded to black.

[fiadorable]

one good reason - a la'an/sam kirk fic

📖 La'An receives a mysterious package a week after Sam Kirk's death 🎬 Rated H for hijinks and P for prompts 😎 Honestly, this story pays as little attention to canon as possible. La'An is the first officer on the Enterprise and Sam Kirk is... doing something somewhere. I don't even know.

💜 This is for my La'An/Sam Kirk girls @curator-on-ao3 + @kejsarinna + @the-lady-general who wanted a story where Sam faked his death and then had to introduce La'An to his family after the events of TOS Space Seed, which gave me a great opportunity to use this prompt

“Transporter Room 1 to Commander Noonien-Singh. The Horeaya say they have a parting gift for you. They’re requesting permission to beam it aboard.”

La’An frowned, her PADD falling to her lap with a soft thwack as she shifted her weight to let her chair rest on all four legs instead of just the back two. While the negotiations with the Horeaya had gone well, she’d had very little to do with them, handling the medical supply transfer while Jim finalized the trade details. Curious. And suspicious.

“I’m on my way,” she replied, tossing the PADD onto her desk and swiping away an errant tear. Any distraction was a good distraction. Writing condolence letters as a commanding officer was never easy. Writing a condolence letter to the mother of your lover after his death was even worse, she was finding.

Once she arrived at the transporter room, she nodded to the ensign behind the controls, and watched at parade rest until a large, nondescript gray container materialized on the pad. “The Horeaya said this is for Starfleet or for me?” she asked, grabbing a tricorder from the away mission bank on the far wall of the room.

“For you, sir.”

“Hmm.” She waved the tricorder wand across the container, and froze.

It couldn’t be.

He wouldn’t.

He…

La’An snapped the wand back into the tricorder and shoved it into the wall bank, just managing to keep her hands from visibly shaking. “Ensign, you can transport that container directly to my quarters.”

“Yes, sir,” the ensign said, and La’An said a brief thanks to the universe for junior officers who didn’t ask questions.

By the time she arrived back at her quarters, the container was waiting for her. She took a moment to consider it further. The contents were certain, but the opening mechanism wasn’t immediately apparent. There was a small indentation on the lid that had room for the seven-fingered Horeaya to slide a hand in, perhaps a handle of some sort that the suckers on their fingers could adhere to, but nothing in the way of a lock or latch.

“La’An?” The voice from inside the container was unmistakable despite being muffled.

She kicked the container once, satisfaction curling in her chest at the surprised yelp that emanated in response. “I should leave you in there,” she hissed, walking her fingers across the sides of the box now. “How did you even end up with the Horeaya? No, no, don’t tell me, this is part of your infantile feud with Jim. I don’t care. Do you have any idea what’s gone on since your death?”

“Hopefully there was an amazing wake that ended without you getting blotto and waking up in bed with my brother.”

A sharp click as her fingers pressed opposing corners of the lid released a whoosh of air, and from within the box, a dead man rose.

“George Samuel Kirk, give me one good reason not to stuff you back into that box and blow you out of the nearest airlock.”

Sam chuckled and stepped out of the gray container, stretching and groaning as several body parts cracked and popped. “Was kind of expecting something more along the lines of 'Hi, honey, so glad you’re not actually dead'," he said, but at her withering glare he dropped the sarcasm. "I guess that was too much to hope for?"

Too much to hope for? La’An cheeks burned and her stomach twisted in knots as she stepped toward Sam. He took a step back in response as she opened her mouth to lay into him. “I buried you—Jim buried you! You were dead! We put you in the photon torpedo and you were dead! Your memorial service is tomorrow and I’m supposed to sit with your mother while your brother gives the eulogy. After having my crazy, augmented ancestor almost kill my entire crew, including your brother, not two months ago, I was going to have to sit next to your mother by myself at your memorial.”

“I guess it is time for you to meet the folks,” Sam said, still backing up as she advanced on him. He raised his hands in surrender as his legs bumped into the side of the bed. “I mean we have been dating for over a year now, right?”

“One year, 2 months, five days, six hours,” La’An seethed. “Not counting the entire week I thought you were dead."

“But I wasn’t," he said, leaning a down a bit closer so they were nearly eye to eye. His sincerity rang through his words, and La'An felt a bit of her anger cool. "It was just a horrible prank gone wrong, I promise. See? Sam? Alive?”

Goddammit. Goddammit all to space hell.

He was so endearing and charming when he rolled over in submission. Conflict averse her ass. He liked it when she threw her weight around. More anger deflated as she granted herself permission to enjoy the fact that he was, in fact, not dead and was, in fact, standing right here in front of her instead of rotting in a photon torpedo casing as he sailed through space.

He must have seen the change in her countenance because he switched from submissive to apologetic and soft. He brought a tentative hand to her shoulder, and when she didn’t push him away or brush him off, he slid his palm over to her neck, stroking the soft baby hairs at the nape of her neck that were forever curling and springing out of her hair styles. Her hair was long and down today, though, and she found herself humming as he applied just a smidge of pressure to bring her closer.

“Are you going to hit me if I kiss you?” he whispered.

“I might if you don’t,” she replied, and graciously allowed him to snog her silly, until her toes curled inside her boots and the lingering inferno of her anger smoldered into a deep contentment. Then she pulled away and shoved a finger into his face. “But this prank war, feud, whatever, with Jim ends tomorrow, understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he promised, a lazy grin twitched below his mustache.

“You’ve got your fingers crossed behind your back, don’t you?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny—“

She cut him off with a rough push onto the bed. “Commander Kirk, it’s past time you reported for duty,” she said, climbing atop and kissing him into the rumpled blankets beneath them.

“As always, I serve at the pleasure,” he grinned when they came up for air.

"No more talking," she ordered, and swallowed what was no doubt a cheeky response on his lips with another kiss. It was good to have him home.

[tommyspeakycap]

again, your new john stones fic blew me away!!! Amazing. Please feel free to write about him all day every day!! <3

thank you again!! here’s another sweet one inspired by my own 1am experience tonight :) i wish I had a john stones

My hero

Your heart is quite literally thundering in your chest. There’s no feeling like it, this kind of fear that sticks you to the ground beneath your feet. You honestly feel like you can’t catch your breath, tears streaking down over your flushed cheeks as you hold your phone in your right hand with trembling fingers, one thumb finally letting go of the little microphone shaped drawing in your iMessages app. Even the whooshing sound of the message you knew was about to send to your best friend catches you off guard, making your shoulders clench and raise in fright.

“Are you seriously alright??”

She texts back, her confusion and teasing is something you know is laced into those letters across the screen creating a glow in the dim room. You roll your eyes at her, trying to keep your vision up while sending another voice note back; “No, seriously. Why does this only ever happen when I’m alone??”

“Probably because you live alone?” She replies back, and you curse yourself for a choice of friends who clearly have no empathy for what you consider to be a very serious situation. You know you won’t hear the end of this teasing once it’s all over. But the fear to you is all too real.

“(Y/n) I got your text! Came right here, are you alright?”

The sudden voice makes you literally clench your entire body, nearly shooting off the floor in fright and making one of those internalised fear noises that sounds like you just been attacked with a taser. You hear keys dropping down by the door and then a pause of his footsteps as you try to catch your breath. Your heart swells a little at the thought of him being here.

“John!” You yelp, your voice coming out something more like a strangled cry. The tall defender hears that sound and finds himself in panic, those long legs carrying him quickly and easily up the stairs of your small home until he spots you standing now in the doorway of your bedroom. He rushes towards you, seemingly checking you over for potential injuries the best he can in the darkness only broken by the lowest setting of flashlight on your phone. The first thing he notices when checking over your face with his hands is the wetness still making its way over your cheeks.

“Are you alright? what happened? Is there someone in there? Are you okay? Did someone hurt-“

You cut off his rambling with a finger over his lips, creating even more confusion for the fluffy haired brunette who had very clearly rolled himself out of bed to hurry over here. He was wearing shoes without socks, dirty shorts from training that he’d thrown off before going to bed only to pull back in to come to your, and an old sweater that usually sat somewhere downstairs in the closet closest to the door. It was obvious he had come in a wild rush the second he got your erratic message.

“It’s a wasp, John!” You whisper, as if the little creature that sitting on your lightbulb unwilling to move from the place you couldn’t reach and wouldn’t dare to even if you could, was able to hear you.

“A wasp?” John repeats incredulously. “Seriously?”

You nod vigorously, and and as much as the exhausted footballer wants to complain or even sigh at you, he doesn’t. Maybe he can’t. Because he’s got his arms around you and he definitely can feel you quivering against him. He had expected something more along the lines of a one night stand gone wrong or even someone breaking it, but as his consciousness began to catch back up with his previously very sleepy self, it made a lot more sense. In the event of a break in, you would probably have been bloody calmer than you are now to be honest. John had seen you after a pretty dangerous car crash completely still and relatively calm as you gave statements to police officers with blood still trickling down your face. But put an insect in your path and you scaled the closest thing to you for protection.

It just so happened that closest thing was often John Stones, and he was happy to be that person really.

It has become a norm between the two of you in the years you had been friends. Winter was the worst for spiders, but he generally didn’t mind the mildly irritating insects. He just got rid of them one way or another while you hid as far as you could get and then he’d come get you when the coast was clean. But you hated summer for this particular reason.

Wasps.

They fly in, fly into things and somehow never make it back on the window on their own despite it being the most easy thing one could ever imagine. Then, they try and sting you as if they aren’t in your house. They just creep you out, even the sight of them with their nasty little bodies. Bees aren’t a problem, they’re fuzzy looking and don’t intrude in your home nearly half as much. Also, they don’t try to sting you all the damn time.

“Where abouts?” He asks, his voice showing no hint of any destain or irritation he may harbour. “On the light,” you tell him shakily, following close to him back as you both enter the room. “Right up there- careful!”

John sniggers a little to himself, much to your dismay. He kicks off his shoes by your bedside table and climbs up onto the bed with ease on those ridiculously long legs. By luck, chance or both, he has some toilet paper in his hoodie pocket that he’d probably used to wipe his nose or something like that earlier, he can’t remember. He holds it out at arms length, only inches away form the unsuspecting black and yellow insect. “Where?” He asks again, “I can’t see anything.”

“There!” You insist, pointing up with a shaking finger. “I don’t see anything (y/n).” He repeats, making you whimper slightly, more tears suddenly appearing as you try to come to terms with the fact it might’ve moved while you were outside the room. The thought of having to sleep in your house while not knowing where it was would send you absolutely mental. “It was there I swear, look-“

“Ahhh, I got it. Stand back.”

He leans forward with relative ease, careful with the force he used so close to a live electric source and grips the buzzing creature in his tissue. “There we go,” he hums, stepping down from the bed. “All go-“

As if on cue, it flies out of the paper and you let loose a literal shriek as you dive backwards, crashing into the wall and then jumping forward in fright at that. “Woah!” John calls, “it’s alright, it’s right there. Calm, calm. Take a deep breath. Look,” he tries to calm you. That deep accent with his fatigue coating each word seeps into you, carefully calming your firing heart as he grabs it tighter from the floor, making sure he squashed it this time and immediately takes it to flush it down the toilet. John doesn’t know if you’re supposed to kill them or not, but at this moment in time he genuinely does not care. Was he fuck going to chase a wasp out of a window at half past one in the morning. Not a chance.

When he returns from the bathroom now empty handed, you still seem upset.

“That was scary.” You announce.

John smiles, pearly whites all on display. “I noticed.” He teases, making you scowl tiredly at him.

That scowl falters when his smile breaks into a light, soft laugh and he moves to stand in front of you. You absolutely don’t mind the fact that he’s babying you a little, using the sleeves of his sweater to wipe your cheeks before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and taking you into his strong arms. In fact, it’s very much welcomed. His arms are the safest place in the world to you and even the residual discomforted shivers from the concept of a wasp in your bedroom couldn’t get through that defender. He looks after a lot more than just the Manchester City goal line. No, he’s the sole defender of something much more precious that he doesn’t even realise.

Your heart.

“You okay now?” He asks softly, his tired voice rumbling through you. You nod against him, “Feeling a bit better. Thank you Stonesy.” You mumble, words muffled by the muscled chest that your face his resting against. “Anything for you, lovely.” He responds easily, pulling back from you in a way that aches his heart. The sudden lack of your warmth and presence against him is utterly brutal. He loves holding you, but hates it in the same breath. He would love to hold you if it was something he got to do freely instead of fleetingly.

His eyes are stuck watching you sit down on the edge of your bed to grab your phone and check the time with an element of shock rolling through your eyes when you realise it’s nearly two.

“You got training tomorrow?” You ask sweetly, a yawn following the tail end of your words adorable in a way that makes John’s heart flutter like a teenage boy. He nods, “Not till after dinner though, around 5.”

It’s your turn to nod, seeming to be chewing over something in thought as you lie down in the middle of your bed.

“Wanna stay then?”

John has to pretend to think about it at least a little bit so he doesn’t look like he’s jumping right up at the opportunity, which is exactly what he wants to do. “Why not,” he shrugs, chucking off his hoodie to the foot of your bed, “Scoot over.”

He clambers in, long limbs moving nowhere near as coordinated as they are on the pitch as he lays down by your right. It’s like a familiar dance, one you both know so well as you shuffle around so you can lay against his chest, one leg hooked over him as his arm wraps around you to pull you even closer. A silence falls between you as he feels your eyelashes fluttering shut, tickling his chest. He can’t find that same relaxation, can’t seem to shut his eyes for the thoughts flying through his mind all at once.

“I should teach you how to catch them.” John states, rumbling voice interrupting the peaceful quiet in which you had nearly found sleep. “You know, for the future.” He adds almost flippantly. Almost.

“Why?” You hum groggily, sleep croaking your voice ever so slightly. “I got you.”

John has to pretend your half asleep admission doesn’t send his heart flying into his throat. You do always have him, right there in the palm of your hand. Always.

“I don’t think other guys would appreciate me barging into their house in the middle of the night.” He suggests, making you quirk an eyebrow in question, but you still don’t look up at him and he isn’t even sure if you’ve got your eyes fully open. “No other guys here,” you state, “Single, living all alone.” You add lazily. The words almost make John wonder if he has fallen asleep, each one spoke playing straight into the dream he’s had for years for you to be his.

“Yeah, I know but…but there will be, at some point.” He suggests. You give no response for a moment and he briefly thinks you’ve fallen asleep at some point in this conversation.

“Bet those other guys wouldn’t come get rid of wasps for me in the middle of the night like you do.”

“Maybe,” John shrugs, “but I think there’s plenty of guys like that, especially for you.”

He feels you shake your head against him, your words decisive as you speak;

“There are no guys like you, John Stones.”

His words and his breath are caught on his throat, his heart erupting in his chest as he replays those words in his mind, trying to figure out if he had actually just heard them or if his tired mind was playing tricks on him because it was so late and he hadn’t had enough sleep.

But then you look up at him with tired eyes and a sweet smile. You know what you’ve just done, know the bomb you’ve just dropped and you’re hoping with everything crossed that he feels the same way.

“You’re my hero, Stonesy.” You say softly, your voice now a little sheepish and he can barely just make out the flush of your cheeks in the dim room lighting. “And I love you with everything I have.”

He doesn’t know what to say, his eyes wide as his heart beats as erratically as he had felt yours beating when he first arrived with fear coursing through his veins thinking you were in some kind of mortal peril.

“John?” You ask timidly, voice sheepish as you sit up in fear.

“Sorry,” he rumbles, pushing himself to a seated position, allowing him to lean forward and slide his hand around the back of your head to pull you into him, your lips crashing down onto his.

It’s just about everything he’s ever wanted.

“God I love you.” He says against your lips, a groan leaving his throat from pure satisfaction, pure relief of finally getting those words off of his chest. You giggle, resting back against his chest. “Can we sleep now, please?”

He nods, both of you shuffling so you can resume the position you had been in before a life changing confession that had spun you and the Barnsley brunette into the kiss that had been years in waiting. This was the happiest either of you had probably ever been.

“Guess we have the wasps to thank for this eh?” John lulls just as sleep is about to encompass you. He feels you shiver against him, the hairs on your arms immediately raising to attention at the mention of that which you hate so much.

“Don’t say that! That’s basically an invitation for them to invade my house!” You hiss, giving his chest a gentle swat as he pulls you closer to his side.

“Let them come,” he says almost triumphantly, “You got me now, always.”

You cosy yourself against him, a soft sigh of complete content and comfort tickling his chest as it dances across him. He feels that gentle smile that settles onto your gestures as your heavy eyes allow sleep to truly begin to take you.

“Always,” you mumble, words diluted by sleep “My hero.”

[the-cult-of-russo]

Biggest regret (part 3)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

A/N: So many of you guys love this story and I love it. Thank you guys 😊

So this one really went off on a tangent and it's longer than I thought. But I didn't wanna rush this and I'm enjoying this story. So he doesn't meet his kid yet, that's in the next part that I'm writing right now. Then there will be another part that I've got in mind too.

Warnings: cursing, angst, sadness, fluff kinda, emotional Billy.

-----------

Delilah cooed happily where she was perched in a little rocker seat. It was vibrant pinks and yellows with a bar along the top and little stuffed animal shapes dangling off it that she swatted with her chubby hands. 

You were cleaning. Stress cleaning to be precise. Ever since you got that letter from Billy you'd felt out of sorts. You really hadn't expected it. You'd spent the better half of the start of your pregnancy thinking he'd come to his senses. That he'd turn up and say sorry or even call or text. But by the end of the pregnancy you realised you'd asked too much of him. That maybe you didn't know him as well as you thought. 

It had been a bitter pill to swallow having him just walk out of your lives like that. Your pregnancy hadn't been easy by any means and that only made it harder. You had no family, no real friends. You'd been completely alone. Every time you ended up at hospital the nurses took pity on you. Seeing you so sick with no visitors or help. It had been hard. 

Since Delilah could return home, one of your neighbours in your complex had taken to helping you. Louise was a woman in her 60s and before now you'd only ever seen her in passing with a murmured hello. But seeing you struggle as a single mother, she'd taken you under her wing and helped you immensely. 

You had to work from home since you had the baby. The time off with unpaid maternity leave when she was born and was sick had set you back quite a bit and now you were struggling. You'd had to leave your job since there was no way you could do it from home and you didn't have child care or the money to do it. And honestly, after having Delilah, the overwhelming urge to keep her safe was shocking. You didn't really want to leave her with someone you didn't know. It had been hard for you to agree to it with Louise who would occasionally have her for an hour or two so you could catch a break. And she was literally only next door which eased your mind a little. 

Now you were doing proofreading and transcription work from home and it didn't exactly pay great. You got by though and you made do with what you had. You just didn't expect things to go this way. You still remember when you found out you were pregnant and told Billy. It had been a huge shock to you and despite the nagging feeling that this was how it would end, you stupidly hoped it would be different. 

~

You sat on the bed, the test in your hands as the two pink lines glared at you. You were pregnant. You had a baby in your belly. You felt like you couldn't breathe. You and Billy weren't even super serious. There were feelings involved but neither of you mentioned it. Opting instead to pretend they weren't there. You were scared if you told him you loved him that he'd run for the hills and he was scared of feeling anything at all. 

You'd been 'together' for nearly two years. You weren't officially boyfriend and girlfriend, there were no labels slapped on you both. But everyone knew you were his and he was yours and it worked just fine. But now there was a baby. Now things got serious way quicker than you expected and you were terrified. 

You weren't ready to be a mom. You'd never put much thought into having kids and you didn't know how to be a mother. You'd have a tiny human that depended on you to keep them safe and loved. How the fuck would you manage that? And then there was Billy. You'd have to tell him and you felt sick with worry about how he would react. 

You knew about his childhood, you knew pretty much everything about each other. He'd never known love as a child and you hoped that would mean it would force him to want to be there and be a good dad. But you knew him well enough to have the worry that it would have the opposite effect and he'd freak out. 

He'd been at work and you'd been at his place. You didn't live with him, you still had your own place. But you stayed there most nights or he would be at yours. You never spent a night away from each other. 

You heard the front door open and close and you felt a wave of dread settle over you. Like an ice cold blanket snaking around your entire body as it squeezed. You had to tell him. You had to hope he would be okay with this. You knew you'd keep the baby regardless. Despite only knowing for literal minutes, you cared about this baby. This baby was a piece of you and a piece of Billy. There was no way you couldn't keep them.

"Hey, sweetheart! I'm home!" You heard him call from the living room. You swallowed thickly as you stood on shaky legs, stuffing the test in the pocket of your hoodie. You made your way to the living room as he shucked off his jacket. He looked handsome as always and he flashed you a warm smile when he saw you. But it fell when he took in your anxiety induced state.

"What's wrong?" He asked carefully, black eyes scanning over you like he was checking if you were hurt. Your throat tightened as you felt your eyes prickle and you willed the tears away. 

"Uh… you should sit down. We need to talk," you murmured softly. He frowned, tilting his head as he regarded you.

"Sounds ominous," he replied dryly. He complied though and moved to sit on the sofa. You opted to stay standing near the coffee table.

Your whole body felt like it was shaking and you felt in your bones that this was the moment where everything would change. Either for better or worse, but change was coming and it hurt your heart. You needed to just tell him, get it over with. You inhaled a shaky breath as you looked at him. His face was etched in concern and he was patient with you, watching all the emotions pass over your face.

"I'm pregnant," you blurted, grabbing the test from your pocket and handing it to him. His eyes almost popped out of his head and he grabbed the test, staring at it. You couldn't get a good read on his face other than the surprise and you didn't like that. He was staring at it hard and you knew he was deep in thought. That cold dread came back and sunk its claws into you. 

Suddenly, he tossed the test on the coffee table, springing out of his seat and moving around to the back of the couch like he wanted to get far away from you.

"No," he frowned. You blinked dumbly at him for a moment as your eyes burned.

"No?" You asked softly. His dark eyes pinned you in place then. For a brief moment you saw utter pain and complete panic, eyes glassy with unshed tears. But then all emotion left his face, left his eyes, and it felt like a punch to the gut. You'd seen that look on his face before but never directed at you. 

"I'm not… I can't do this. I don't want a kid," he said coldly. The lump in your throat got bigger as you nodded. What else could you say? You could cry and scream and fight but what was the use? Part of you expected this although you hoped for something else. You couldn't force him to stick around. If he wanted out then you had no choice but to let him. 

You felt tears slip down your face as you glared at the floor, lower lip quivering. You couldn't look at him. The pain you felt was unbearable. Pain for yourself for losing him, pain at how cold he was being, and pain for your baby for having a dad that didn't want them. Did Billy even realise he was continuing the cycle of his own upbringing? 

You felt his eyes burning into you but you couldn't look. You had so many things you wanted to say but they all caught on the lump in your throat. Without a word, he grabbed his jacket and left, slamming his door behind him so loud you jumped. You sobbed then, moving to curl up on the sofa as you let it all out. He was gone. You'd have to do this all alone and you missed him already despite him leaving you like this. 

You were unsure of how long you lay on his sofa sobbing your heart out until your phone chimed with a message. Stupidly you thought it was Billy saying sorry. It was Billy, but he definitely wasn't apologising.

'I'll be back in two hours. Pack all your shit and be gone before I get home. Don't contact me again.' 

You felt a surge of anger and bitterness seep into you then. You thought he'd cared. Never had he told you how he felt about you but he acted like he cared. Introduced you to the Castle's, his family. But clearly you were wrong. His message was loud and clear. You didn't respond, there was no need. He wanted to never hear from you again and that was fine. You packed anything of yours and left within an hour, your heart heavy with pain, hurt and anger. 

~

When you got his letter, at first you were angry. You wanted to be petty. Wanted to ignore it or send him one back telling him to go fuck himself. But you'd looked at your daughter then with her sweet smile and her dad's eyes and you couldn't. Because despite what he'd done, she deserved her dad. 

You hadn't responded to the letter right away. Two weeks you kept reading it and coming to terms with all the emotions it brought you. You knew you still cared about him even after what he'd done. You couldn't help it. But his letter sounded so sincere and the self loathing in his words tugged at your heart. He'd fucked up big time, but he was trying to fix it. Billy was a proud man and you knew it took him a lot to reach out to you. You wanted Delilah to get to know her dad and wanted her to have a relationship with him. 

You had a lot to work through and you and Billy would need some serious talks to be able to co-parent properly, but you'd do it for Delilah. There wasn't a thing in the world you wouldn't do for that girl. 

So you'd replied and now you've been waiting for his call. You were full of nerves and you could taste the emotions lingering from the day he left in the back of your throat. You felt like you were in some kind of limbo. 

After stress cleaning for a bit and looking after Delilah, you sat on the sofa with the TV on low as she snoozed in her little seat. You felt lucky she was such a chill baby. The pregnancy and birth had been harder to deal with and you thought having her would be difficult but it hadn't been that hard for you. Louise kept telling you that you had natural maternal instincts and that you'd picked it up easily. 

You tried to pay attention to the screen when your phone buzzed from your pocket. Your heart skipped a beat as you got it out. It was a number you didn't recognise and your breath started coming in shorter because you knew just who it would be.

"Hello?" Your voice shook a little as you answered and you heard a soft sigh on the other end. 

"Hey, Y/N, it's Billy," his voice was smooth like always but it sounded off. A little raw. 

"You got my letter then," you murmured. You rolled your eyes at yourself for stating the obvious but you didn't know what else to say. Never had it been so stilted and awkward to talk to Billy. 

"Yeah… and I know you asked me to really think about it, so I did. And I wanna be there. I'd like to… I'd like to meet her if I can," he sounded apprehensive and you wondered if he thought that you'd reject him even after telling him in the letter you wanted them to meet. 

"Okay… I'd like to meet up with you first. We have a lot to talk about that needs dealing with before you meet her," you said firmly. This you wouldn't budge on. There was a lot of unresolved tension and feelings around you both and one quick meeting with him wouldn't fix that, but you wanted to clear some air before he came to meet Delilah so it wasn't completely tense. You also wanted to make sure he really was 100% with this or you wouldn't allow it to happen. You wouldn't let her get hurt. 

"Yeah, I'll do… anything you need. Whatever you want," he answered quickly. You nodded even though he couldn't see it, happy that he wasn't fighting you on it. He seemed like he genuinely wanted to take this seriously which was good.

"Right… uh… I can… I can meet you today. The diner down the street from my place? About 6pm?" You asked softly. You heard him sniffle a bit down the phone and you started to wonder if he'd come up with an excuse about work. You knew he worked late a lot. 

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll be there," he said resolutely. This was a good start already.

"I'll see you then, bye Billy," you murmured. 

"Bye, Y/N," he replied softly. You hung up and blew out a breath, your shaking hands gripping your phone. You hadn't heard his voice in over a year and it had your heart hammering away against your ribcage. You still loved him but the love was tainted with pain and betrayal. You'd have to stuff it down for the sake of your daughter. 

You didn't bother to change out of your jeans, boots, tee and hoodie and after asking Louise if she could look after Delilah for a bit, you set off out. You'd told Louise everything. She already knew what happened with Billy and you'd even let her read his letter. While she wasn't happy he'd walked away in the first place, she was happy he was trying to step up now. You were glad she was supporting you with this. 

You got to the diner five minutes early and fully expected to have to wait. But when you got inside, Billy was already sitting in a booth. He looked shit scared and his fingers drummed on the table restlessly. As you approached, his head snapped up. So many emotions crossed his face as he looked at you that you couldn't keep up with them. But when it settled on heartbreak you felt your own squeeze painfully in your chest. 

He stood up as you got to the table and there was an awkward moment where you both looked at each other. He looked tired. He had dark rings around his eyes and his usually perfect hair was a little dishevelled. He had on casual clothes and his leather jacket. He took a step closer like he was going to hug you and you stepped back without thinking. His face fell a little and he nodded, the movement stiff but he seemed to understand you weren't ready for it. 

He moved to sit down and you sat opposite him. It was so tense you could cut the air with a knife and you didn't even know where to start. The waitress came over then and gave you both a bright smile and you both ordered coffee. Once she was gone the tense atmosphere was back.

"I'm sorry," Billy muttered brokenly. Your eyes looked up at him then and he was staring at you with shiny eyes. Your throat constricted and you cleared it.

"Billy-" you started with a frown. He cut you off though.

"I know… I know I'm the biggest asshole out there. I don't deserve you sittin' here or givin' me a chance. But I want you to know that… I thought about you and the baby… Delilah… every damn day. And I-I hated myself for walkin' away. And I can't take back what did, but I can be better. I want to be better. And I'm sorry I hurt you and I'm sorry I left. But I'm serious when I say I wanna be here. You said I'm in or out and I want in. And I swear, I fuckin' swear that I'll prove to you I'm a better man," he said imploringly, leaning his forearms on the table as he watched you. 

You blinked at him, collecting your emotions as the waitress came over with the coffees. She didn't linger, sensing the heaviness of whatever was happening in your booth. 

"I'm glad you're here, Billy. And it's gonna take work for us to… to be okay around each other. But Delilah is the focus here and you deserve to have a relationship with her. You're her dad," you said softly. He sneered, not at you but himself, as he shook his head.

"No… no I'm not. I haven't been there. Sure she's mine, my DNA, my blood, but… I walked out. I left you, I left her and you both needed me. I'm not a dad, not yet. But I'll do whatever it takes to show you I'm worthy of bein' her dad," his voice shook yet was also firm and you knew in your heart he meant his words. It settled you a bit to know he really was serious about this. 

"I'll be honest… part of me expected to come here and you wouldn't be ready. That you were talking shit for whatever reason. But I believe you. I wish it hadn't taken this long but I'm glad you're here now, Billy. It's been… so fucking hard doing this alone," your hands were around your cup and you stared at them as you spoke, your voice quiet among the light buzz in the diner. 

You heard his breathing hitch and looked at him again. His fists were clenched and his head was lowered which made it hard to read his face. His whole body was tense and you were about to open your mouth to ask if he was okay when you noticed his shoulders shaking slightly. Oh. 

He sucked in a breath as a broken sob left his lips and it ripped a hole right through your chest. Now matter what he'd done, seeing him this way was jarring. You'd seen many sides to Mr Billy Russo and you'd even seen him cry before. But he looked so worn down and broken and it hurt you even if it was his own fault. 

His elbows resting on the table, he brought his hands up and rested his head on them as he openly sobbed. You never thought you'd see the day that Lieutenant Russo cried in a public space but he seemed beyond caring. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you stood and moved to his side. You slid into the booth next to him as your own eyes welled up and you reached out a shaky hand to stroke the back of his neck. He tensed at first like he hadn't even noticed you'd moved which was startling given how perceptive he was about everything around him. But then he relaxed and moved his face from his hands and turned to look at you. Tears were streaming down his face and he looked younger and vulnerable. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and he didn't hesitate to bury his face in your neck as his own arms held you tightly. You stroked his hair softly, trying to soothe him a little. You couldn't help it. Maybe it was that maternal instinct that always hated when someone was upset around you or maybe it was just the fact that no matter what happened, you did still care.

"It's okay, Billy," you whispered through your own tears. He shook his head where it was still pressed against your now damp neck.

"No it's not. I fucked up. I shoulda been there," his voice was muffled and broken with his soft sobs that were slowly easing and you held him a little tighter. 

"You did fuck up but you're here now and that's what matters," you murmured. You pulled away and he let you go reluctantly as he sniffled and looked down. You reached up and wiped his cheeks with your hoodie sleeves and then he looked at you. 

"We can't change the past, Billy. Yeah, you messed up, and yeah it hurt me. But you already missed out on so much and that's a punishment in itself. Things aren't gonna be easy and it'll take time for us to heal, but you're here now and Delilah needs you. That's what matters," you uttered, hands falling from his face. 

He sniffled again as he nodded, his obsidian gaze searching your face like he was looking for something. 

"I don't… I don't have the words because thank you doesn't even come close. I don't deserve this. I don't deserve you helpin' me out and I don't deserve Delilah. I didn't really think I'd hear from you and now here you are, fuckin' comforting me in a diner when it should be the other way around," he lamented with a frown. 

"I don't like seeing you cry," you shrugged with a weak smile as your hands toyed with the sleeves of your hoodie. He gave you a small smile back as he nodded. A silence settled over you both then and it was slightly awkward. You knew he was probably embarrassed and also still beating himself up. Once upon a time you'd be glad to know how hard he was being on himself over this. But seeing him like this was painful. 

There were still a lot of things to sort through with the pair of you but they weren't the priority. The first and most important thing was him establishing a relationship with his daughter. You figured in time things would get easier with him and he seemed dead set on being here now. And you could see the genuine remorse for walking away so you knew he was serious. 

"I should go. But uh…" you murmured as you stood from the booth, Billy following suit. 

"You can… you can meet her tomorrow if you'd like? I could… I don't know, make dinner for us all? You could come by my place and meet her before dinner?" You suggested, voice laced with uncertainty. His face lit up then even with his slightly damp cheeks and shiny eyes. His smile was bright even if it was hesitant. 

"I'd really like that," he nodded as he gazed down at you. 

"Okay… good. Uh… come by around 5?" It still felt awkward between you and you hated it. It used to be so easy between the two of you. 

 "I will… thank you, Y/N," he murmured sincerely. You nodded and gave him a little smile. He stepped forward and this time you didn't step back. The hug didn't last long but it took you back to a time when things were good with the pair of you. Where you felt safe in his strong arms surrounded by his calming scent. It sent a pang through your chest. You hugged him back before he moved away and you gave him another nod before you left. 

By the time you were walking in your complex you had tears down your cheeks. It had been hard to see him after everything. Hard to see him such a mess too. You had that feeling, the same one you did the day you found out you were pregnant. That things were changing, this was a turning point. Only this time it was a good one. 

It was hard to wrap your head around after all this time that he'd be there. Of course there would be a period of adjustment where he got to know his daughter, but eventually he'd be parenting just like you. It was a strange feeling to comprehend that you wouldn't be alone in this anymore. 

Seeing him and speaking to him, it had eased some of the bitterness that you'd held for him. Not completely but quite a bit. You couldn't hold onto the anger and pain of the past, not when Delilah needed this. You'd never be able to go back and redo how things happened but you could close that chapter and start a new one. One where Billy was actually around and your daughter had a dad. Despite the nerves for the dinner the next day, you were also a little excited and hopeful. 

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

We Were Something, Don’t You Think So? [Chapter 2: The Middle Of Nowhere]

You are a Russian Grand Duchess in a time of revolution. Ben Hardy is a British government official tasked with smuggling you across Europe. You hate each other.

This is a work of fiction loosely inspired by the events of the Russian Revolution (1917-1923) and the downfall of the Romanov family. Many creative liberties were taken. No offense is meant to any actual people. Thank you for reading! :)

Song inspiration: “the 1” by Taylor Swift.

Chapter warnings: Lots of shouting, if you never learned about the Russian Revolution then here's your mini crash course, references to historical stuff like violence and disease, Kroshka the mule emerges as the only emotionally stable character.

Word count: 4.1k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 💜

Taglist: @imtheinvisiblequeen @okilover02 @adrenaline-roulette @youngpastafanmug @m-1234 @tensecondvacation @deacyblues @haileymorelikestupid @rogerfuckintaylor @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @im-an-adult-ish @someforeigntragedy @mo-whore

I wake up feeling harder, as if sleeping on the ground with all its stones and cool indifference has taught my spine to straighten, to endure. This is a welcome revelation. I will need to be resilient, for my family and for myself. I also wake determined to set things right with my rescuer. I am a perfectly charming person, Mother and Papa have always said so; I’m not painfully shy like Olga, or aloof like Tati, or rather dull like Maria, and I certainly don’t run around putting frogs in people’s shoes like Anastasia. I make for excellent company. Surely Ben will realize this and we will become inseparable travel companions.

Outside in the overcast brisk morning air, Ben is already busy tacking the mule. He glances over and tosses me an apple. It bounces out of my floundering hands and rolls off into the woods. This is not an auspicious start to the day.

“You’ll still have to eat that,” Ben says. “There’s no extra food. I was only able to ask for as much as I could justify needing myself.”

“Right.” I go fetch the apple—rummaging around in leaves and sticks and shrubs—and take a bite, even though it’s bruised and definitely tastes like dirt. I beam at Ben triumphantly. I am tough! I am daring! I am enchanting! I can pull my own weight on this journey!

Ben doesn’t seem to notice. He pats the mule’s thick brown neck and smiles fondly at her. “How are we feeling this morning, Kroshka? Hmm? Who’s a lovely mule? Who’s going to take us all the way to the Trans-Siberian Railroad without even one measly word of complaint? That’s right, you are! Yes you are!” He lands a smacking kiss on the velvety grey fur of her muzzle.

I attempt polite conversation; more than that, I endeavor to learn about my dashing yet evasive rescuer. “So, tell me Ben, have you worked for Sir Buchanan long?”

“Four years,” Ben replies curtly.

“And you are…” I think of his notebook. “A…writer of some sort for him…?”

“I’m his press attaché.”

“Ah.” I recognize the French word for ‘attach,’ but not its meaning in the context of employment with an ambassador. “I can’t say I know what that entails.”

“I handle Sir Buchanan’s relations with the Russian newspapers. Drafting statements and briefing him on local opinions and the like. And since his health has declined, I find myself delivering some of his particularly confidential correspondence.”

“Oh, I see. And he could spare you for this mission? It seems like a burden that would be better carried by a man with military or exploratory experience.”

“My Russian is passable. And I can tolerate rougher conditions than most.” He points to a pile of clothes he’s laid out on a tree stump. “Those are for you. There’s a stream out that way.” He flicks a thumb towards the east. “Get ready however you need to, but be prepared to leave in fifteen minutes.”

I examine the clothing: plain and practical undergarments, a heavy wool sweater, stockings, boots, and something unexpected. I hold them up with clammy hands. “These are…” I swallow noisily. “Trousers.”

“Yes. They’re travel attire. Comfortable and easy to maneuver in if we need to move quickly.”

“I’ve never worn trousers before.”

“I thought you were amenable to a…a…what did you call it? An adventure. A grand adventure.” He says this melodramatically, like there’s some humor in it. Like he’s mocking me.

“I suppose I am,” I mutter, still scrutinizing the trousers.

“Fifteen minutes,” Ben reminds me sternly. Then he begins to disassemble the tent.

I trudge off through the woods until I find the stream. I clean myself with ice-cold water, drink it down until my teeth ache, change out of my nightgown and into these strange new clothes—Trousers! Mother would lock me in church for a month!—and gaze up into the cloudy, pastel blue sky that peeks between the fingers of the trees. It is very still here, and cold, and deathly quiet. I try to remember the last time I was truly alone, without Mother or Papa or my siblings or servants or guards within shouting distance. There is none that I can remember; perhaps there is none at all. Out here in the Siberian wilderness I feel unmoored from civilization, diminutive, vulnerable, peculiarly inconsequential. I decide I don’t like being alone. By the time I return to our campsite, Ben is ready and waiting beside the loaded cart. His right hand is resting on a clunky metal monster with ‘Olivetti’ written on it.

“I’m a press attaché,” he says with a mischievous grin. “And you’re a typist.”

“A what?”

“You work for Sir Buchanan’s office as a typist. That’s our story, anyway. You came along to assist me during my audience with the former tsar, and now we’re traveling back to Sir Buchanan’s headquarters in Saint Petersburg. So if anyone happens to ask, that’s what you are to tell them. Oh, and you’re British. Your English sounds clean enough.”

“Alright,” I reply, still gaping at the metal monster like a black box with gnashing fangs. “But what is that?”

Ben’s jaw falls open. “You don’t…?” Then he rubs his forehead, sighing deeply. “Jesus Christ. You’ve never used a typewriter. Of course you haven’t. Great. Fantastic.”

“We always write by hand. My penmanship is flawless, Mother saw to that.” She’s still battling with Anastasia, but that’s a war that may go on as long as the one between the sun and the moon.

“Okay. Okay. This works out, actually. Because I’m not going to entertain you all day. So here is your assignment.” Ben slaps the back of what he tells me is a typewriter, and then waves for me to come closer. He reaches into the pocket of his coat and produces a British passport. Every line is filled out except for the name. He slides the paper into the machine and makes some bewildering adjustments. “So, you insert the paper, set the carriage—that’s this roller-type piece here—and type.” He taps forcefully on the keys until two words appear in the blank reserved for the passport holder’s name: Lana Brinkley.

“That’s me?” I ask doubtfully.

Ben smirks, amused. “That’s you.”

“So you could have given me a better name if you wanted to!”

“But then how would you learn humility?” He removes the fraudulent passport, shakes the paper until it dries, folds it into a neat little square, and slips it back into his coat pocket. “If you’re typing a longer message, the typewriter will ding when you’ve reached the end of each line. Then you use the lever to move the paper down, reset the carriage, and resume typing.”

I nod, but without much confidence. This seems complicated.

“You said you wanted a carriage,” Ben teases.

“Yes, one with magnificent draft horses and velvet seats and preferably no less than two servants. Not…whatever that is.”

“Well, if you’re going to pass for a typist, I’m afraid you must learn to type.” He finds me a stack of blank paper in his collection of bags and trunks, and then climbs into the front of the cart as I get into the back. The trousers, I hate to admit to myself, do make it easier to move around, although I’m not sure I approve of how much they accentuate the shape of my body. The thought of Ben looking at me in them gives me a plunging sort of feeling that is half-mortification and half-thrill…not that he has exhibited any interest at all. “Before we go any farther, do you have anything with you that I don’t know about?”

He means things like the heirlooms I have squirreled away in the large steamer trunk: the jewels sewn into my dress, the photograph. I can sense that he wouldn’t want me to have them, although I’m not sure why. In any case, I have no intention of giving them up. The jewels are the only thing of value that I have to trade if we find ourselves in a desperate situation. The photograph is the only string left that connects me back to my family, my home. “No,” I reply primly.

“Good.” He whistles at the mule and she tugs us through the trees and out onto the dirt road that leads, eventually, to the train station. As we ride joltingly along, the creaky cart wheels bumping over every rock and mound and muddy trough, I practice my typing: very slowly at first, and with only my index fingers. I read aloud as I go, gradually picking up speed.

“There once was a German princess born in the Duchy of Hesse. She was very beautiful but very shy. She had a wonderful talent for playing piano, but would run and hide if anyone asked her to perform in public. One day, when she was attending the wedding of her sister, the princess met a prince from a distant kingdom. They were only children, but they instantly knew they had found true love. They snuck off together and carved their names into a window pane. Over the years, each conspired to marry the other. They refused many suitors and wrote each other hundreds of letters. His family did not approve of the princess’s religion and lack of charisma; her family did not approve of the prince’s distant and troubled nation. But at last it became apparent to all that no earthly forces could keep the couple apart. Ten years after their first meeting, the prince and princess were finally married. And they lived joyously and peacefully in each other’s service for the rest of their days.”

Ben lights one of his hand-rolled cigarettes. The smoke doesn’t bother me; on the contrary, it reminds me of Papa smoking his pipe in his study, in the garden, as he read to us by the fireplace, as he danced with Mother in ballrooms back when she could still dance. It reminds me of home. “I’m not sure if you’ll ever give Shakespeare a run for his money, but I’ll admit I’m marginally entertained.”

I smile to myself, sentimental warmth rising in my face. “It’s Papa and Mother’s story.”

“Huh. I didn’t know your people were allowed to marry for love.”

By ‘your people,’ he seems to mean royalty, and there is some derision in his deep voice. “Well, surely duty must come first. But when love can accompany it, that’s a happy coincidence.”

“And what if duty compels you to marry a man who is, say, cruel? Or dreadfully boring? Or in love with another woman? Or who closely resembles a mole-rat?”

I resume my typing with a new exercise. For each letter of the alphabet, I type a French word that begins with it. “I don’t think that sort of thing happens very often.”

“But if it did.”

I shrug, not especially enjoying this topic of discussion. “Then duty comes first, as I said. But I believe most royal couples are perfectly content. At least nine out of every ten.”

“That many!” Ben marvels sarcastically. “Have you ever considered that your own personal experience, as pleasant as it may be, could be coloring your perception of how the world works?”

I ignore him and continue my typing. Attaché for A, bisou for B, croissant for C, doux for D…

After a moment, Ben says: “You aren’t going to regale me with another fairytale? I’m devastated.”

“I’m busy practicing my French now. Please don’t intrude.”

“You speak French as well as Russian and English?” He sounds impressed; for a split second anyway, just long enough for me to catch it like a firefly in my fist.

“And Italian, and Latin. And I’ve just started on Japanese.”

“But no German? That seems like it would be an easier beast to slay.”

“I’ve always purposefully avoided learning it, even though Mother’s family is German. I never envisioned myself marrying a German. I figured Maria could take that bullet. She doesn’t care, she’d marry anyone who could give her a castle and ten babies and a bulldog or two. I would say she was a milkmaid in a past life, but Mother’s heart would stop dead if she thought I subscribed to reincarnation.”

“Not fond of Germans?” Ben asks. “Well, who can blame you. Half the world isn’t fond of them at the moment.”

“I suppose they weren’t so awful before the Great War. But they’re rather boorish, aren’t they? They always sound like they’re angry. Like someone just stole their horse and they’re screaming at them from the front porch to come back or else.” I smile dreamily as I type. “I’ve always fancied the thought of marrying a prince from a glamorous, romantic kingdom. Maybe Italy or Greece. There has even been talk of me marrying Uncle George’s eldest son David. He’s rather beguiling. Tall and slim. Clear blue eyes like a lake. And he’s going to be the king of the British Empire one day, you know. We could holiday together in beautiful, sunny colonies like the Bahamas.”

“You’re still as important as all that? Important enough to make a marriage of that political significance, I mean.” Ben glances back at me and lifts one thick, dark, inquisitive eyebrow. “Seeing as your family doesn’t have a kingdom anymore.”

This is an insensitive thing for him to say. I frown down at the typewriter. “A wife almost always assumes the kingdom of her husband, so why should she require her own? She needs only sound breeding and a suitable temperament. And besides, we might yet return one day.”

Ben twists all the way around to stare at me, the reigns falling out of his hands. Fortunately, the mule seems to know her own way around. “I’m sorry, what?”

“It has been a brutal few years. The Great War, the supply shortages, the bad harvests…the people are frustrated, and understandably so. They lashed out blindly, at those who didn’t deserve it, at us. But the dust will clear. And when it does, I think the Russian people will come to their senses and realize that they want us back. That they need us.”

“Are you insane?” Ben snaps. “Are you utterly brainless? What’s floating around in that skull besides fiction and languages you’ll never use once you’re married off to some prince who only sees you as a broodmare?”

“How dare you! You can’t speak to me like this—!”

“For years, for a bloody decade, Sir Buchanan warned your father about what was coming. He tried to get him to moderate his views, to give the people more voice in government, to stop murdering them when they protested. And when none of that worked and the end was apparent, Sir Buchanan tried to convince your father to abdicate long before he did. Don’t you understand?! None of this needed to happen! Your family could have fled to Britain years ago, before the animosity against your father spread like wildfire across the globe, and Russia could have established their own parliament like Britain’s and negotiated a peace treaty to stay out of the war and none of us would be here now if not for your father’s selfish, pointless obstinacy—!”

“My father is a good man,” I choke out as hot, furious tears burn in my eyes.

“And he was a terrible ruler!” Ben shoots back like artillery. “He ordered protesters to be butchered, he sent untrained boys to die in some other country’s war, he clung to the throne for no one’s benefit but his own—”

“And what about my benefit?” I demand, still weeping, feeling monstrously like a child. “What about my mother’s and my sisters’ and Alexei’s? He must have feared for our futures if we were dethroned and left without any resources, any security, anyplace to call home—”

“He did you no favors,” Ben says harshly. “Half the country—the country that you obviously have not even a rudimentary understanding of—are moderates scrambling to secure the Provisional Government and disentangle themselves from the war while still somehow preserving their dignity and that of the millions of dead soldiers Russia has already laid on the altar. The other half are trying to instigate a wholesale communist revolution. There is no one, no one, who wants the tsar back. And you better pray to God that the communists don’t manage to seize power before King George gets your family out, or your father just might be guillotined on the steps of Saint Basil’s Cathedral.”

I bolt to my feet unsteadily, grip the side of the lurching cart, and leap out onto the dirt road.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Ben shouts after me.

I take off sprinting down the road, the wind whipping my face, sobbing as I run beneath the shadows of trees until my lungs are columns of flames and my legs feel wobbly and boneless. I can hear the pounding of the mule’s hooves approaching, the hurtling of wooden wheels, the slapping of leather reins. I am forced to slow to a vigorous march as my body betrays me, wheezing and aching and as ineffectual as a woman is so often assumed to be. The salacious trousers have come in handy once again. Who would have guessed.

Ben pulls up alongside me, reining in the mule to match my pace. “Hey! Get back in the cart!”

“I’ll walk the rest of the way to the railroad station.”

“It’s 200 more kilometers!”

“See you there.”

Now Ben jumps out of the cart. The mule, perplexed but not rattled, comes to a halt and waits in the middle of the road with her long ears angled in opposite directions. Ben rushes in front of me and leans down until we’re at eye-level, breathing heavily. I can smell smoke on him, and something else too: maybe cologne, maybe soap, maybe aftershave, maybe just the scent of a man in his prime. His lips are pink and full and soft-looking, I notice, as if for the first time. His cheeks are irritated and red from the wind; the ruthlessness of the climate here doesn’t agree with him. It is the only way in which I am stronger than he is. His green eyes are wide and blazing. “Get. In. The. Cart.”

“No,” I whisper, tears all over my face.

“You can’t just run off like that,” he pleads, less angry now. “Where are you going to go? There’s nothing out here except trees and…I don’t know…probably bears and wolves and maybe even Siberian tigers. You can’t get ripped apart by wild animals. Don’t you want to make it to London? To argue for your family’s liberation? They could find no fiercer advocate than you, of that I am convinced.”

“How would you possibly protect me from a bear?”

Ben unbuttons his coat and pulls up his white wool sweater to show me a pistol tucked into the holster clipped to his belt. “Just in case,” he says, smirking crookedly, lowering his sweater again. “Now I am keeping no secrets from you, and you are harboring none from me. We’re even.”

I nod, sniffling, thinking of my jewels and photograph hidden in the steamer trunk. My words are so strained I can barely hear them myself, my hands are trembling; hell, I’m trembling all over. The possibility is unimaginable. “Do you really think they’re going to kill Papa?”

Ben sighs, shaking his head. “No, I don’t,” he replies gently. “I think the Provisional Government will be able to keep the communists in check for now. I think they will leap at the opportunity to ship the former tsar off to Britain without the potential controversy of a trial and execution. And I also think we should get back in the cart and keep moving now.”

“I’m sorry your boss gave you this assignment and now you have to risk your life for a family that you evidently hate,” I lash out like a cornered animal, hissing and brandishing its glinting claws. “For a grand duchess that you hate. This must be an awful inconvenience for you.”

“It’s rather more complicated than that,” Ben says. “There’s some opportunity in it as well.”

Of course: his leather-bound notebook full of observations, his scrawled recollections to one day build into a famed article about our journey. An article full of what he truly thinks about me. I feel suddenly, violently nauseous. I feel horrified.

What happened to the grand adventure that I imagined? Where did it go?

And all at once, I can’t even remember how I pictured this journey unfolding; I can’t conjure up some rose-colored vision of me and Ben falling into an effortless friendship, flirting lightly and innocently, discovering new corners of the earth together, parting ways in London as lifelong confidants. Now I can only see Papa as he murmurs folktales older than Christianity with candlelight dancing on his smiling face, as he chases me and my sisters around the gardens with outstretched arms and sparkling eyes, as he carries Alexei from one room to the next when my brother’s joints are inflamed and excruciating and useless, as he never unburdens his mind to his wife or children but spends long afternoons chopping wood as the sun sinks into the west and the lines in his pale face grow deeper.

He couldn’t be responsible for bloodshed, for mercilessness. He’s not that kind of man. He’s never been that kind of man.

“We really should keep moving,” Ben prompts.

“Fine,” I fling back as I shove by him. I mop my tears away with the sleeve of my wool sweater, climb into the back of the wooden cart, and sit as far as I can from Ben with my bent knees hugged to my chest. I stare silently off into the forest as the mule drags us towards the Trans-Siberian Railroad, towards Moscow and Saint Petersburg and the Baltic Sea and London, towards the conclusion of this tenuous partnership and the redemption of my family. I am looking forward to soon never having to see Benjamin Hardy again, and yet I’m also not; and this is a difficult paradox to put into words of any language.

We don’t stop until it’s almost dusk. Ben hops down from the cart, leads the mule off the road by her bridle (and gives her an encouraging scratch on the forelock when she hesitates), and begins to set up camp in a small clearing encircled by heaps of frost grass. Dinner is loaves of bread again—even more tough and dry than yesterday—and metallic-tasting water from canteens. Dessert is a hand-rolled cigarette for Ben and a handful of honeyberries I found in the bushes for me. And when Ben grapples with the tent, I come over to help him with it just to prove I can.

Ben builds a fire, and we sit wordlessly on opposite sides of it with the reflections of flames in our eyes. Ben jots down today’s thoughts in his notebook, every so often glancing off into nowhere and tapping his chin thoughtfully with the end of his pen, biting his full lower lip absentmindedly as he sifts through the ocean of word in his head to fish out the right one. Meanwhile, I read my copy of Tarzan of the Apes. I stumble across a few English terms I don’t know—quixotic, cartography, constellations, ruminate—but I don’t ask Ben about them.

After a long time, when the moon and stars have emerged bright and ancient in the night sky, Ben closes his notebook and watches me. At first I ignore him. And then, eventually, I can’t anymore.

“What?” I ask irritably, keeping my place in Tarzan of the Apes with my pinky finger, which is nearly numb from the cold.

Ben’s words are calm, restrained, painstakingly chosen. Firelight is fierce and bloody on his face. “I had two infant brothers die of pneumonia, a perfectly preventable illness had they had access to good doctors and proper nutrition and a warm dry home, which they did not. I had a sister die in childbirth because there was no midwife available to attend to her. I have had friends come home from the war with limbs or half their faces missing, a fate which I myself am spared only because of my employment with Sir Buchanan. You have no idea what the world has been through while you were off playing board games and reading novels in greenhouses and lounging on lakeshores with your idyllic little family. You have no idea what life is like for the rest of us. And perhaps that’s not your fault, and it is unjust of me to resent you for it, and I must learn to temper this wrath I’ve been carrying around in my chest since childhood. But it’s still true.”

He stands, clutching his notebook with hands that are red from the savage Siberian wind, and vanishes into the tent.

[edendaphne]

“Discordant Sonata” Chapter 19

>>Click here to read on Ao3<<

>>Click here to read on Wattpad<<

–––––

CHAPTER 19: ATTACCA

Music glossary:        Attacca - "To attack at once"; used as a direction in music at the end of a movement to begin the next without pause

–––––

(Mood music: "The Conversation" - Pearl Django)

Being mere months away from graduating lycée meant that their group of friends didn’t have as many classes together, due to their diverse individual interests and talents. However, they always made sure to make time to hang out after school before their extracurricular activities began.

And thus, Adrien, Nino, and Alya made their way to the classroom where the art club gathered to meet up with Marinette. From there, Adrien would make his way to either fencing lessons or Chinese, depending on the day of the week. Marinette would join him on days when he had Chinese (as she’d become determined to master the language ever since her uncle visited from Shanghai a few years back), Alya would go to her journalism club, and Nino would travel to his part-time internship at the local recording studio.

“–and the backlogs just keep piling up!” Alya spoke as they walked, voice full of vigor and excitement. “I’ve had to recruit yet another mod to help me keep order in the forums! Especially since the Ladyblog has started going international and we’ve had to organize servers in different languages. You wouldn’t believe how crazy it’s gotten in there recently!”

“Dang, babe,” Nino interjected. “Sounds like things are super rough for you right now.”

“Not really, more busy than anything. Especially because I have that big research article due next week, there’s just not enough hours in the day to try to read everything that goes on in there. But I have my mods report to me daily, ‘cause I always like to stay on top of everything that goes on in the chats!”

“What’s gotten everyone so riled up in the Ladyblog lately?” Adrien chimed in. “I don’t recall it being nearly this busy last year.”

The trio entered the art club’s classroom and settled down at the table where Marinette sat, getting her various sketches organized. The art teacher was quite easy going, so they didn’t have to talk in hushed whispers and could come and go as they pleased.

“Well, to be honest, it’s because of Chat Noir,” Alya replied.

Adrien tried to contain his surprise. “R-really? What– uhhh, what do people have to say about him?”

He winced inwardly. He knew he shouldn’t ask. But curiosity got the better of him today. Maybe learning the news through the filter or Alya’s paraphrasing instead of reading the negative comments firsthand would lessen the sting of what people said about him.

Marinette whipped her head around at the mention of his alter ego. “Wait, what about Chat Noir?” she inquired.

“Girl,” Alya replied, her voice filled with renewed exuberance. “You would not believe how much we’ve had to censor and moderate all the inappropriate things people have been saying!”

Adrien flinched in his seat. “Wow… do people really hate him that much?” he asked, trying to conceal the dejection in his voice.

Alya busted out into loud guffaws. “Hate?! Dude, most people don’t hate him; they LOVE him! By ‘inappropriate’ comments, I mean the kinda stuff you wouldn’t want your grandma to catch you reading! There’s a whole giant section dedicated to his new fan club!” she said as she removed her glasses so she could wipe away the tears of laughter.

“WHAT?!” Adrien squawked in confusion, his face feeling hotter than the ovens back at the bakery. “A fan club??”

Marinette burst into uncontrollable snickering. “Has it really gotten that bad?!”

Nino joined in, “Bro! Adrien, I can’t believe you haven’t heard Alya rant about these rabid fans before! They call themselves the ‘Noir Nation’, and the kind of things they’ve been writing would make adult romance authors blush like schoolgirls!”

Alya nodded, thoroughly amused. “And that’s not including all the fanfiction people have been writing.”

“Wait– the WHAT?! There’s fanfiction?!!” Marinette gaped in shock, as if she’d been hit in the face with an enormous pie. “Alya, how come I never knew about this?!”

“Why? You wanna read em? Girl, you’ll get no judgment from me. If you wanna check ‘em out for yourself, just go check under the hashtag ‘Ladynoir’.”

Marinette stammered as her arms flailed in her bewilderment, accidentally knocking her phone off the table and onto the floor, her eyes bigger and rounder than Adrien had ever seen them. “They have a ship name?!” she screeched.

“Just mind the ratings though,” Alya advised. “Some of them can get pretty steamy. You wouldn’t want someone to catch you reading those in public,” she added with a wink.

Marinette continued to sputter incoherently. “NO, I am NOT gonna read it!! It would be different if they were fictional characters, but I could never read fanfiction about real people!”

Alya raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. “Mm-hmm… Sure.”

Marinette’s hands flew to her face, trying to hide how red her entire face had gotten, and released a long squeak that resembled a hamster on helium. As shocked as Adrien was about these rather unexpected news, seeing Marinette’s over-the-top reaction brought a wide grin to his face and he busted out laughing.

He bent over to retrieve Marinette’s phone, since she was too busy being mortified to notice it had fallen to the floor. As he was about to hand it back, the screen lit up and Adrien saw the lockscreen wallpaper: it was the same photo of Ladybug and Chat Noir that he himself had saved earlier that day. He smiled, not exactly sure what to make of it, but finding it adorable that she’d liked the photo enough to set it as her lockscreen.

He tapped her shoulder, waiting for her to respond. She emerged from behind her impromptu hand shield and turned her head, then her eyes widened once again as soon as she saw what Adrien was showing her. She jolted straight up, stiff as a board, and her eyes met his, cheeks turning tomato red. He winked at her, amused about this little secret between them, and handed back her phone without a word.

Marinette accepted it with a meek-sounding, “Thanks,” looking like she wanted to explain the photo, but not able to do so unless she wanted Alya and Nino to find out that she was potentially a… ahem– “Ladynoir” shipper.

Switching the conversation to something else (which Marinette seemed to be eternally grateful for), the group chatted until it became time for them to scatter to their next destinations.

With a wave, Adrien exited the classroom and headed towards fencing practice, one of the few activities he decided to stick with despite not being forced to participate. Fencing, along with Chinese lessons, were not only enjoyable, but were also quite useful. Sadly, he didn’t have access to a piano anymore, so he wasn’t able to pursue that hobby for the time being. Hopefully later down the line, when things had settled down and he’d found his own place to live, he’d be able to finance one.

Thinking about the future had become an exciting pastime instead of an anxiety-inducing one, and it was all thanks to his friends and those he cared about. He smiled as he reached the door to the locker rooms, continuing to daydream of what was to come.

(Mood music: "Recollection 3" - Shirō Sagisu (BLEACH OST, "The Diamond Dust Rebellion")

Adrien finished getting dressed for fencing, his head still blissfully floating in the clouds. He stored his belongings into his assigned locker, shutting it with a loud clang, which echoed through the empty room.

Huh...? Empty?

He swiveled his head around, surprised that there was no one beside him. He stood up and began walking down the large room, peeking down the other locker rows looking for his classmates; but there was nobody.

Where was everyone? There’s no way that every single one of them was running late. Had his lessons been cancelled and he’d somehow missed a text message or email? He began heading back towards his locker to check his phone for any schedule changes.

Before he reached his destination, however, heavy thudding footsteps broke the eerie silence. Adrien whipped his body around to greet whoever they belonged to.

The owner of those footsteps was one of the last people Adrien expected to meet here.

“Gaspard?!”

Adrien stood agape, face to face with his old bodyguard, whom he hadn’t seen in a couple of years; not since he’d resigned and moved out of the country. Nathalie had mentioned that in his resignation letter, Gaspard said that he’d become involved in an overseas business venture involving the market of rare action figures. Nevertheless, Adrien couldn’t help but suspect that his father’s ill temper and poor treatment of their employees was the true reason for his departure.

Adrien’s first reaction was surprise and joy, and he rushed forward to greet and embrace him. However, as he approached and got a better look at the man’s face, Adrien’s mood instantly morphed into confusion and apprehension. There was something odd about his eyes.

Something wasn’t right. Why was Gaspard here? And why now?

He came to a halt about a meter before reaching him. An oppressive weight seemed to press in all around him, and he had to suppress a shiver. “Wait. Gaspard, did–” he gulped, “–did my father send you?”

His old bodyguard did not reply, but took a heavy step towards him. Adrien stepped back.

“Please… I can’t go back. I live somewhere else now, and I’m very happy there. Whatever he told you about the situation, it’s a lie.”

His bodyguard continued to approach him, his stare vacant and unsettling.

Fighting the urge to panic, he pleaded, “You don’t have to do this. If he’s offered you compensation, I can match it; it’ll just take me a bit of time. But we can work something out, right?? For old time’s sake?”

He continued walking backwards until he bumped into something firm, but it wasn’t a wall; it was another person. Before he could turn around, they grabbed him by the shoulders, detaining him and preventing him from running away.

He was about to shout for help when something sharp jabbed him on the side of the neck, injecting a cold liquid. Adrien’s eyes grew wide in terror.

Shit.

Adrien swore as he jerked away, elbowing whoever was behind him and managing to break free. Rubbing at the spot where the syringe had stabbed him, he glanced back to take a look at his other assailant, only to see... another Gaspard?

Why are there two of him??

This was wrong. Gaspard didn’t have a twin; he knew that for a fact. He’d worked for the Agrestes ever since Adrien was a toddler and was too young to even pronounce his name correctly (hence the nickname “Gorille”, which stuck around for years afterwards). Additionally, there was something uncanny, otherworldly, even, about the way these two men looked and moved.

He shook himself out of his stupor. He didn’t have time to contemplate any possible explanations. He had to get out of there fast.

He sprinted towards the exit, but only managed to travel a few paces before he lost his footing and tripped. He fell to the ground hard, almost hitting his head on a nearby bench. As he struggled to get up, he realized that his fingers and toes had already gone numb.

Not good.

Time was running out. Adrenaline coursed through him and, with a grunt, he hefted himself to his feet and scrambled towards the exit, as fast as he could despite a heavy limp. Though his heart was hammering and his legs felt like they were filled with sand, he pushed himself, concentrating on reaching the door.

After taking a few steps, however, he realized that even if he did manage to exit the locker room, the area beyond was an open courtyard. Meaning he wasn’t going to be able to reach someplace safe before getting caught. He had no choice but to transform into Chat Noir, and hopefully Plagg’s powers and strength could help him escape and find somewhere to hide.

He’d scarcely uttered the first syllable in the transformation phrase when he was tackled to the ground. A giant hand swiftly covered his mouth and Adrien felt his hands get bound together with thick zip ties behind his back. A muffled scream of writhing frustration made its way up his throat as his limbs became more and more useless by the second.

No… This can’t be happening! Please, this can’t be how it all ends!

Just when his life had finally gained a semblance of normalcy and he’d found happiness again, it would get ripped away and he would disappear without a trace, leaving everyone to wonder what had happened to him. Leaving his friends to think that Gabriel had pulled him from school and they would never see him again. Leaving Ladybug to wonder if Chat had abandoned her forever. Leaving her to fight Hawkmoth alone. Again.

He couldn’t let that happen. He thrashed and struggled as furiously as he could, fighting the feelings of overwhelming helplessness that threatened to consume him. Nearing despair, he was too distracted to notice Plagg phrasing through the wall, away from the skirmish, in search of the only person who could save him.

(Mood music: "Run" - Ludovico Einaudi)

Marinette fidgeted with her pencil, her feet wiggled and bounced under her desk. She didn’t understand; when she’d arrived at the art club, her head had been filled with inspiration and ideas that she’d been excited to draw and execute. However, at the moment, her mind was filled with noise and disquietude.

Having had enough, she excused herself to visit the restroom. Once she’d walked far enough from the classroom, she opened her purse to talk to Tikki about her current dilemma.

“It’s the same feeling as last night, Tikki! Except that would mean one of three possibilities. Option A.) It’s nothing and I’m going crazy. And— don’t give me that look, Tikki! I can see what you’re thinking and I don’t have time for your cheeky sass right now!” The kwami snickered while Marinette cleared her throat and continued, “Option B.) that Chat is here, at this school, which is impossible because his school’s on the other side of the city, that’s why he always leaves the house super early for his long commute.”

Tikki opened her mouth and looked like she was about to say something, but then didn’t (...or couldn’t?).

Marinette resumed, “Or, C.) that my–– what do I even call it? My ‘Spidey sense’??–– that it’s got a long distance mode, and Chat is all the way across Paris and he’s in trouble! But what am I supposed to do about that from here?! I wouldn’t even know where to begin looking!”

Tikki shrugged. “Follow your instincts, Marinette. There’s no harm in taking a quick look around the school, right?”

Marinette groaned. “UGH! It doesn’t make sense!! Am I going to get interrupted like this all the time from now on?” She shook her head resolutely. “No. I can’t just go off on random field trips every single time I feel a random fit of anxiety. I’m sure it’s just leftover jitters from last night. I’m supposed to call Master Fu after school anyway; he can help me figure everything out. I’m just gonna go back to class and forget about it.”

Tikki frowned, not quite convinced, but deciding not to press further.

Marinette made her way back to the classroom in a frustrated huff. But as her hand reached to turn the handle, the feelings of danger and urgency multiplied tenfold. Without a word, she sprinted away in the opposite direction, not even knowing where she was running to, only knowing she had to get there immediately.

She reached the large common area of the school downstairs. Her head whipped around, frantically searching for something, anything. In her haste, she didn’t notice a small black creature zoom into her open purse.

A few moments later, she felt a frantic tugging at her shirt from below.

“Marinette!! Over there! Check the locker room, quick!!!” Tikki whisper-screamed as she peeked outside the purse, her tone uncharacteristically frantic.

Marinette nodded, then sprinted to the locker room.

“Wait! You should transform first!” Tikki added.

No time!

“Marinette, wait!!”

Despite Tikki’s protests, Marinette raced towards the double doors, tackling them open.

Three sets of eyes landed on her as she skidded to a halt, but only one pair consumed her entire attention. She gasped in horror, hands flying to her face as she stared at what was occurring in front of her. Adrien let out a desperate, muffled scream urging her to run.

His panicked voice snapped her out of her dazed shock; but instead of running, she stood her ground, eyes darting back and forth across the area searching for something useful. The room was remarkably barren except for a lone broom a short distance away from her. She grabbed it and leaped towards the closest attacker (the one holding Adrien down), swinging it like a baseball bat.

The man didn’t even try to avoid the hit; the broomstick merely bounced off the side of his face where Marinette had hit him. She frowned in confusion, then tried hitting him again, bringing the stick down on the top of his head like an axe.

SNAP.

The end of the broom flew off, and Marinette stared in shock at the broken broomstick.

“What the hell are you?!” Marinette exclaimed, shifting her grip on the shortened wooden stub.

She pounced at the second bodyguard, bringing her weapon down in a stabbing motion; but he swatted at her hand, disarming her. She yelped in pain, leaping backwards to get some distance between them.

She was outmatched. The only strategy available was to use their own size against them. With a feint to the side, she shot at his legs for a takedown, hoping to catch him off balance. He called her bluff and shoved her backwards with his giant palm, then kneed her in the stomach.

Winded from the impact, Marinette doubled over with a gasping wheeze, fighting with all her might to keep herself from collapsing onto the ground. She forced herself upright and attacked again. With a clumsy jerk, she lunged forward, swinging wild punches at her opponent. The shots connected but his expression barely changed; it was like beating a breathing punching bag.

The bodyguard backhanded Marinette across the face. Pain shooting across her cheek, she staggered, almost losing her balance. In her daze, she watched helplessly as the man reared his arm back. There was no chance to dodge. His fist connected with her abdomen, delivering a liver shot that shut down her entire body. She crumpled to the floor as if boneless. She tried to call out Adrien’s name, but her mouth merely opened in a silent scream.

Marinette could hear Adrien’s distressed screaming, but it sounded distant, like they were underwater. The edges of her vision grew black and fuzzy, the entire room dissolving around her. She had to consciously force her lungs to inhale, but couldn’t fill them all the way, as if a boulder had been placed on top of her chest.

Faintly, she felt herself getting picked up off the ground and carried away over someone’s shoulder. Disoriented and semi-blinded, the sudden movement and rough jostling made her head spin and gave her vertigo. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block it all out.

A few moments later, they stopped moving, and she heard a door burst open. Where were they? Before she could gather her senses, she was in the air, thrown several meters away, landing with a hard thud. A sharp pain traveled down her body as she rolled into the wall across them. The shriek that tried to escape her throat emerged as a strained, shallow whine.

The man stomped out, leaving her alone in the room. “Stop…!” she rasped out, managing to tilt her neck upwards, head pounding.

The bodyguard slammed the door shut, followed by a bang and a clattering sound that could only mean he’d broken the doorknob of whatever room she was in.

Marinette's vision became more and more blurred. At the verge of losing consciousness, she fought to keep her eyes open as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

No, she couldn’t pass out! She had to save Adrien! Stay awake, Marinette, stay awake!!

She bit down on her lip hard, focusing on the sharp sting, on the swelling that was already forming around her right eye, forcing herself to feel the pain her body was in. At this moment, feeling pain was better than falling unconscious. She concentrated on her breathing, slowly regaining her senses.

She reached down to open her purse and get Tikki’s help… only to be met with emptiness. Panic settled in her gut as she realized that sometime during the skirmish, the purse had slipped off her shoulder. She sat up, slowly, so she wouldn’t risk feeling faint again from the change in positions.

She squinted, adjusting her eyesight to the darkness of the room. It seemed to be some sort of supply closet. After a failed few attempts to stand, she crawled towards the door instead, careful not to bump into the crates and shelves that filled the area.

The girl eyed the broken doorknob wearily. She was pretty proficient at lockpicking and breaking into things, but not as good at breaking out. Her only hope was that Tikki would be able to find her… if she was even nearby.

She swore to herself. Why had she rushed in and attacked two grown ass men (who, incidentally, may or may not be supernatural to boot!) instead of hiding and creating a strategy?! Now she was useless, Tikki was gone, and Adrien was surely on his way to get auctioned to the highest bidder in the criminal black market and ransomed off for an enormous sum. Great job, Marinette. Adrien’s been abducted and it’s all your fault.

Gathering all the determination she could muster, she tried to call out for help. But her voice was still too hoarse, and only a weak croak came out. She clenched her fists, grumbling irritably. Time for a different approach. Somehow, she needed to make noise.

After a brief search, she found a hard, metallic object that she could use to hammer on the door. She tested it out; it was surprisingly effective. She doubled her efforts, making as big a racket as possible. Hopefully, it would only be a matter of time before somebody heard her, let her out, and she could go find Adrien.

She couldn’t let anything else happen to another loved one. Not again.

–––––

I'M REEEAAAAALLY SORRY FOR THAT CLIFFHANGER JSHDKFJHSKDF ᕕ(╯°д°)ᕗ  I tried splitting up the sections differently but it didn't really flow as well.

But the next chapter is almost done, so I'll have it ready by next weekend!!

[imagine-lcorp]

Written In The Stars (One Shot)

Request

Hi! Can I request something like Lena falling in love with an alien reader?

A/N: Hey guys!!! First one shot of the year!!! Let’s hope we can keep the rhythm this time...also I broke my phone so I’ll probably be less active on the app...the writing is still going tho so yaaay! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one and as always, let me know what you think! Love ya beautiful people! 

Lena Luthor x Alien!R//Word Count: 2,204 -------------------------------------------------------

When she was younger, Lena Luthor used to look at the night sky with infinite awe. The map of stars that hung above the Earth had been the place where she could find solace and a sense of peace. The stars were never alone, always needing one another to form their constellations. They reminded her she was also not alone even if it seemed like it.

However, as she grew up most of that wonder translated into scientific interest, which started to diminish as she found herself enthralled by more practical sciences. The sky, as vast as it was, was a mystery she recognized she couldn't unravel in her lifetime. She needed to focus on more earthly things, but she was content to be another curious viewer of such canvas of light.

Being a curious viewer, however, was something that changed abruptly when the existence of extraterrestrial life was proven by no other than Superman. Even more when it was known the Earth had been a refuge for many more aliens than it was possible to believe. The stars had reached the Earth, and they came bearing their own cosmic forms of life.

The population had been divided between those that accepted and welcomed the space travelers and those that rejected the idea, defending their right to their land and planet, fearful of an unstoppable invasion, living with the enemy and whatnot. For a while, Lena found the latter to be a matter of great concern. She wanted people to feel safe and believed they had the right to know who among them was or not an alien.

It wasn't until Kara came to knock that idea off, presenting her with an alternative story and reminding her that those aliens too had a right to their own freedom. She opened her eyes to the reality most of them lived. They were mmigrants of desolated planets, seeking shelter from wars and just like Superman, seeking a new home after their planets had been shattered. There were a few bad seeds, yes, but most of them were only looking for a better life. Wasn't that enough to give them a vote of confidence?

Her alien detection device was then transformed into an image inducer, a new gadget that helped aliens conceal their true appearance if they wished to look physically human. It was great to blend with the crowd, and it was a great success in the alien market.

"Miss Luthor, Kara Danvers is waiting for you in the conference room." Jess told her one day as she arrived to the office.

"Kara?" She found herself surprised by the sudden visit of the journalist. "Does she want another interview?"

"No, she has come along with someone else. She said she only needed a few minutes with you."

"Alright." Lena said leaving her purse on her desk and taking a couple of files from Jess to revise them later. "Let's see what it is."

Lena Luthor entered her conference room to find two figures chatting amicably at the room table. One she could recognize immediately, with her golden locks and bright smile, the other she had no idea who it was but as soon as your eyes were on her she was curious to find out.

"Lena!" Kara said rising from her chair, with you following suit. "Thank you for meeting us in such short notice. We promise not to take too much of your time."

"Kara, of course. How can I help?"

"Well, actually, I would like to introduce you to (Y/N) (Y/L/N)." At the mention of your name, you stepped forward, extending your hand to Lena. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Luthor."  

"Lena, please." She said taking your hand.

"Then, please, call me (Y/N)." You said with a firm grip and a kind smile, something rare for Lena to see during those days.

"(Y/N) is the leader of an alien race residing in National City." Kara continued with a proud stance.

"Is that so?" Lena replied with a raised eyebrow and the hint of a smirk on her lips. "Is (Y/N) your real name?"

Lena's words prompted a chuckle from you, and you decided to clarify before there were any misunderstandings.

"It's my chosen Earth name. I don't think you have enough tongues to be able to pronounce the real one." You said with a playful smile. "Also, I wouldn't go that far. I am what you would call a representative, and it is of a small group only. Miss Danvers here is just too kind."

"She is, indeed." Her smile only grew bigger as she saw Kara fail to conceal a little pout.

"Well, you're still a great representative." Kara said.

"But to what do I own the honor of you visit?" Lena said gesturing to you to take your seats again. Kara smiled at you and moved along with you towards your seats.

"Right." You said pulling a small box from your jacket. "I'm here to deliver this."

Lena took the little box from your extended palm, her curiosity growing as she inspected its contents. Inside she found a little black matte icosahedron, nothing extraordinary by the looks of it.

"What is this?" She finally asked.

"The alien community wanted to thank you for creating the image inducer. It has helped a lot of people, especially those of us that don't exactly fit into the human shape." You started to explain as she inspected it.

After the launch of her device, Lena recalled, the company had received countless letters and e-mails, most of them in gratitude for helping the aliens in National City as they were still fighting for acceptance within the human population. It helped them find jobs, housing and places to be without having to worry about their looks or if other people reacted negatively to them. It helped them feel safe.

Only then Lena understood the impact it had on other's peoples lives and how her work had helped them accomplish that.

"So this is a thank you gift." You moved your hand and placed a finger on one side of the icosahedron.

Lena was startled as the other sides of the new device in her hand started to open. Suddenly the room was filled with a clear colorful light, but it was more than that. It was lines and spheres and points and spirals well defined. It took her a moment to realize what it was but Lena found herself looking around the conference room with a fascination she thought she had long lost. As the conversation followed, you explained Lena the device in her hand was a space chart. It contained information about several planetary systems, their galaxies and stars, and common routes to reach them, you said as if it was nothing but a travel guide.

Lena turned her eyes towards you a few seconds later, ready to declare her own gratitude when she noticed your expression. You were staring at a far corner of the room, not with the usual distant look of a daydreamer or that of someone who has lost interest in the present moment. You were looking with intention and, more than that, with longing in your eyes.

"It's wonderful. Thank you." Lena finally said, pulling you out of your thoughts. You blinked a few times before the smile returned to your face.

"If you ever wish to know a bit more about what's out there, you can always consult it and if you need help navigating it, I'll be more than happy to help."

Lena thought about it for a moment more. While she had long ago left her intentions of unraveling the skies, she saw a chance within those stars. This was the opportunity she had been hoping to find in National City. If she could gain the trust of the alien community, she would be able to expand her work and better help not only them but the whole city. To help put the world back together instead of tearing it apart. She was more grateful then to you, for giving her that chance.

Besides, she thought, it was also a chance to fulfill her curiosity about you.

It wasn't long after that meeting that you were back at her office, teaching her how to use the space chart. Her attention bouncing from the lines of stars and planets to understanding the technology behind the device. While her studies on science and astronomy made it easy for her to identify the structure and functioning of the chart, and the several celestial bodies it showed, she still had to learn how to translate that into terms she knew and relearn the names people used to refer to their own planets and stars. You did your best trying to explain how both things worked, which she highly appreciated.

As days passed, Lena took a new liking to your teachings which turned into more personal reunions. You didn't limit yourself to talking just about stars or planets but about the different cultures that inhabited them. Mentions of your home planet became more regular and you even used it to contrast the big differences between Earth and the rest of worlds you had known. Lena was delighted to indulge in such conversations, taking in as much as it was possible.

The way you talked about your home planet, your country, if such concept even applied, your family, your house, everything, was enough for her to look at you with the same awe she used to look at the stars when she was younger. She knew she wouldn't get to know all the stars in the universe but just knowing you, she thought, made up for it all.

"The sunsets there were hours of golden light washing over the citadel, and the nights were, oh, the night was too beautiful with its waves of light across the sky." You told her one day as you both had finished one of your reunions.

You were leaning against Lena's balcony, both of you observing the sun go down behind the city skyline.

"You know, I don't think you have ever showed me where you're from." Lena said, crossing her arms and taking a step towards you, seizing the opportunity. You had showed Lena at least dozens of planets, especially those closest to Earth's solar system but yours, for everything you talked about it, somehow still remained a mystery.

Lena felt a slight pang in her chest as she saw the smile in your face turn sad.

"No, I suppose I haven't." You said and after a moment, where you seemed to ponder a few options, you moved your head, signaling Lena to follow you back inside her office.

You took the space chart from her desk, activating it and moving your hands again until the hologram in the room moved, showing a single planet in the center of the room. You took a few steps back and gestured to Lena to take a closer to look at it.

"Here it is."

The planet, surrounded by seven moons, was a very Jupiter look-a-like. Lena was instantly enthralled by the colors and the stripes, swirls and waves that formed the planet's atmosphere. The hologram displayed a name in a language Lena certainly didn't know and that made her wonder just how many tongues she would need to pronounce it correctly.

"It's beautiful." Lena said, still looking at it.

"It was." You replied, and she turned to look at you with a confused frown and a question clear in her face.  

You moved the chart once more, reducing the image to show the whole system your planet used to be a part of.

Lena saw other nine planets but only one caught her attention as its name was being displayed in an alphabet she actually recognized.

"Krypton." She whispered, eyes widening in shock.

Everyone already knew the story. How the almighty Kryptonians had traveled to Earth when their own planet had been destroyed. But no one, including her, had thought too much about what it had meant for the rest of their own little universe. Lena imagined it then, an explosion setting a chain reaction. Not only one but several worlds shattered, with their people trying to escape the path of destruction.

Lena's eyes landed on you once more, finally understanding the longing she had once seen in your own eyes. She also knew, in some way, what it was to lose your home. So she approached you, slowly taking your hand and muttering an apology, for whatever little comfort it could give you.

"It's alright." You said looking intently at her with a reassuring smile. "I found a new home."

"And I'm glad you found it here."

You made her feel at home, Lena thought and, as she smiled back at you, she thanked the stars for giving you both the chance to find a home along each other, and hopefully, one day, a home for you both.

[americangirlstar]

World By Us Quotes

I know when we make aesthetics/art pieces, we like to have little quotes from the books below it! Here’s some quotes for the WBU girls– if it’s not said by them specifically, I put who said it at the end in [brackets], and if it’s not from their main book, I made a note in italics at the beginning.

Makena Williams

As I sorted through the new items on the bed, I wondered what kind of statement I wanted to make. I was going to have fun figuring it out!

As I looked at the outfit now, I realized it still needed... something. I closed my eyes and focused on how I was feeling. I was nervous, but excited, too, like something I had been waiting for was finally about to begin.

I added three gold butterfly hair clips to my twists. Butterflies are a symbol of transformation, and I knew today would be full of big changes. When I tilted my head, the butterflies looked like they were taking off.

On my way to the gym, I passed the big mural again. We Walk Together. I smiled, knowing that I had just met two new friends to walk with.

I have four names: Makena means “happy one” in Swahili; Lilias was my dad’s mom, who died when he was a boy; Cook, for Mom’s family, and Williams. They all matter, and they make me who I am.

“Fashion can be a form of activism. And I wouldn’t be surprised if one day that was your purpose.” [said by her mother]

I want to live in a world where who you are inside matters more than what you look like outside.

I rolled over and pressed the pillow around my ears, but Mom’s question was like a song I couldn’t get out of my head. Couldn’t he see that they’re children? Couldn’t he see? No, Mom! I wanted to scream. That’s the problem. He couldn’t see that we’re real people, with real names and lives and feelings. All he could see was that we’re Black. I cried sad and mad tears, because none of it made any sense.

I’m so much more than what you see / Don’t guess- ASK about all the feels inside me / Get to know who I am for real / Then maybe this world can start to heal / See me, hear me, know me!

My name is Makena Williams. Something happened to me, and I am not okay.

I am a person. See me for who I am. Hear what I say. Get to know me before you make up something about me. Judge me by my words and actions, not my race. See me. Hear me. Know me.

Do you see us now? We’re girls. We’re your neighbors.

I ran my fingers across the letters. There was my idea, my first design, in real life. I was so proud.

My eyes went back to Auntie Bling’s word power. Maybe I could give other people the power to tell their own stories. What if kids could show and tell the world who they really are, how they really feel, in any style they chose?

I’m Makena. I’m proud that my family’s roots in Anacostia go back four generations. I came up with the words on my T-shirt because people weren’t seeing the real me. They were only seeing that I was Black– if they saw me at all. I love West African kente cloth because the colors and patterns tell stories. The green in this skirt signifies renewal. I like wearing butterflies because they remind me that though change can be difficult, it can lead to something beautiful. With my fashion, I am always making a statement.

When everyone had made their statements, we all gathered onstage for a bow. The audience was on its feet, clapping and cheering for us. All the other kids hopped off the stage and started mingling. I stood there, watching adults talking to kid and kids from different communities talking to each other. Seeing so many people come together was powerful.

I believe that when you take time to get to know people, you get to see who they truly are.

I was so proud of what we’d done that I couldn’t stop grinning. Just before I went to join my friends and family, I glimpsed my own reflection in the window. It looked as if the river was flowing right through me. Maybe it does, I thought, along with the strength of my ancestors, and the bravery of Black people before and the bravery of everyone in this room who works for change.

Evette Peeters

When we made the sign last year, I painted a monarch butterfly above the words. Monarchs fly thousands of miles. Their strength and endurance remind me of the people who were on the front lines during the pandemic.

The one good thing about not going anywhere was seeing the gardens change. I never knew it could be fun to watch plants grow, but it actually was.

The bridge was coming up. Pretty soon, we’d be crossing the Anacostia. I’d been crossing that river all my life on the way to Gran E’s house. Every time I saw it, the river looked different. Sometimes the waves were rough, but today they were calm. The sunlight made the pale green water sparkle.

Why did people think skin color defines who we are? It seemed so simple: humans come in different colors, just like flowers.

I put them on and hung my heart necklace on my jewelry tree. Next to it was a locket that had an umoja symbol on it. Umoja means “unity” in the Swahili language. Gran E had given me the locket for Kwanzaa last year, along with a card that said, “Promise always to see umoja: unity in the family, community, nation and race.”

Still, I couldn’t help wondering, Is this how a rift gets started? Something goes wrong between people, and before you know it, there’s a rift between them. Was that how it happened with my grandmothers? And the most important question of all: Could a rift between people be repaired?

The grass was trampled, but seeing the riverbank free of litter lifted my heart.

With a day of hard work, we had healed part of the river. If only it could be this easy for my grandmothers to heal the rift between them.

“A world– by us,” I announced, writing it on a piece of poster board. I looked up at my friends. Somehow when I was with them, anything seemed possible. “That’s what we’ll call it– and that’s what we’ll make it.”

What I’m trying to tell you is not to judge a whole person for one thing they said or did. People can change and learn from their mistakes.

Well, we are one family. So we should all act like it, right?

I know the world has many problems, just as there are many kinds of pollution in the river. But with the sunshine and the music and good friends beside me, I felt a wave of hope rise in my chest. As long as we can imagine a better world, we can make it happen. When people come together, we can do remarkable things. The river taught me that.

Maritza Ochoa

from Makena’s Story: Well, we don’t need to wait until we grow up to make a difference. We can start now, making the kind of world we want to live in. 

At school, the girls always play with the boys. The girls are tougher than you think.

Before she passed away, I received a beautiful journal from her in the mail. Inside, she had written inspirational quotes from famous women athletes and leaders. On a note enclosed with the journal, she had written that I should add more inspirational quotes to the journal, because keeping a positive attitude was important when life becomes hard. I had to admit, it was hard to be positive during that time.

I stared down at the salteñas, thinking of what my abuelo said. Prayers weren’t enough, but sometimes prayers are all you have. Was there something more I could do?

The title of the piece was Tu lucha es mi lucha, which means “your fight is my fight.”

Remember, we’re young. Nobody expects us to be leaders, so we must expect it from ourselves.

There was incredible history here, and yet... so much more history to be made.

“She needs me to be her friend,” I replied. And as soon as I said those words, I felt them in my heart.

In soccer, if we see something wrong, we call it out so it can be fixed. I see something wrong, and I want to help.

Tu luca es mi lucha. I will lead with my heart and find a way to help your family.

We don’t just want to talk about injustice. We want to do something about it.

It was as if Tia Mari knew that someday I’d need this quote. Maybe I’m more like her than I even imagined.

All of us are united in our love for soccer, but we are also united in another cause that we want to share with you. Soccer has taught me many things, but most important it has taught me to be a team player and to be vocal if I see something wrong. This past week, I saw something wrong and I want to bring it to everyone’s attention.

If you were here, I would tell you what an inspiration you are to me. I miss you, Tia. I know I’ll always miss you and that’s okay. It will be an extra part of me that will make me stronger and kinder.

[my-emotional-self]

Toxic Love Chapter 7

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Finding out your soulmates were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was one thing.  But when someone from your past comes back to haunt you, you have to figure out if a relationship with two super soldiers is something you really want to pursue or if you’d rather go back to your comfortable single life.

Series Warnings:  18+, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, past mentions of rape, self-harm, attempted rape, domestic violence, stalking, death threats, possible Dark!Steve?, Steve will be an asshole a LOT in this series but I don’t know how dark it will get, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, kind of A/B/O dynamics but not really (no they are not actual wolves, more like the hierarchy), mentions of suicide, flashbacks of suicide, nightmares

A/N: There will be no taglist for this story!  I apologize in advance!

8 Years Ago – Age 17

“Y/N, do you know why you are here?” the shrink asked from across the large desk.  You looked down at the typical uniform of a patient at a psychiatric ward.  Yes you knew why you were in here.  A few months ago you witnessed your father’s dead corpse hanging in your living room.  The next thing you knew you were writing a suicide note of your own and your foster parents found it before you could do anything.  Now, you were stuck in a psych ward, probably until you at least turned 18.

“Yep,” came your short response.  

The shrink glanced down at her papers in front of her, going through all of your notes.  “We want to help you as best we can Y/N.  You’ve been through some very traumatic experiences in your life and you’ve witnessed a great deal.  We are going to get you all the help you need.”

3 Months Later

“Have you heard of Borderline Personality Disorder Y/N?” your psychiatrist, Dr. Wang asked.  

That made your head snap in her direction.  Here you were, still stuck in the psych ward after three months and you weren’t sure why.  “I’ve heard of that, yes.  But I thought I was just depressed,” you mumbled, chewing on your fingernail.  

You were clinically diagnosed with depression shortly after coming here.  

“Well, that’s what we originally thought at first.  But the longer you’ve spent time here, the more I and the rest of the staff have discovered it is BPD.  You’re intense mood swings, combined with your ongoing feelings of emptiness and the intense bouts of anger you have are all signs of BPD. We are going to switch up your medications and that will really help with your mood swings and anger issues.

~~~

 No matter how hard you tried, sleep never came to you that afternoon.  You tossed and turned all afternoon in your bed and nothing seemed to be working.  Not only that, but you were really starting to get more irritable as the day went on and you knew it was time to change the dosing of your medication.  It was like clockwork, every year to year and a half. The only problem was that you couldn’t leave the tower without Steve, Bucky or an anyone else.  How were you supposed to get an appointment with your Psychiatrist if you couldn’t leave the tower alone?  This only increased your anger and frustration as you got out of bed to get ready.    

You brushed your teeth and put on a some jeans and a t-shirt, not really caring what you threw on. All of the specific clothing you wore for work was in the closet of your game room along with your makeup and accessories.  

Upon leaving your room, you saw Steve and Bucky sitting at the island in the kitchen of your shared apartment.  They both looked deep in thought over some paperwork and you assumed it was for work.

Grabbing a bottle of water from the kitchen, you were about to head into the elevator as you didn’t want to disturb them, but Steve spoke up and caught your attention.  “Where are you off to?”

“Oh, umm, I’m heading down to my game room.  I’m going to work tonight,” you mumbled out as you pressed the button for the elevator. You noticed it was on the ground floor and it would take a few minutes to get to your level.  

“What time do you plan on being done?” Steve questioned.  

You huffed in annoyance, already irritated as anger began to creep through your bones.  “I don’t know.  Whenever I get done,” you snapped.  Immediately you felt regret, but sometimes your emotions got the better of you when you were in dire need of a medication change.  

“Hey, what’s with the attitude?” Steve commanded as he got up from his seat and stalked over to you, hands on his hips.  You noticed Bucky looking at you from his seat with furrowed brows.  They had never seen you angry like this.  You were always so compliant and easy going.  

“Look, I’m sorry.  I’m just tired is all.”

Steve looked at you sharply, his lips in a thin tight line.  “Alright.  Just make sure you get to bed at a reasonable time tonight.  Promise?”

“I promise,” you answered back.  

~~~

In the comfort of your game room, you quickly got to work.  Digging through your closet, you decided on a light pink tank top that said ‘Gamer Girl’ in black letters with two gamer controls on it.  Since your webcam only showed your top half, you threw on a black pair of cotton shorts to be comfortable.  

Next, you put your hair up in space buns, making sure they were situated just right so they wouldn’t be in the way of your headphones.  You put on your typical game night makeup: bright pink eyeshadow with dark smoked out liner, some mascara and blush and you were good to go.  

Turning on your monitor, you began to power everything up and once that was done, you logged in. Immediately your followers started putting in their messages off to the side and you smiled as you read them. You always tried to read as much of them as you could.  

As the night went on, you knew you should pack it up and listen to what Steve said; getting to bed at a descent time and getting rest.  But you were having way too much fun tonight and so were your followers. It was one of the best nights you’d had in months and not just money wise.  

Ignoring the clock you continued to play and interact with your followers with the microphone that was attached to your headphones.  Every so often you would glance to your messages box and see what some of them had said.  Most of them were cheering you on but of course you always had some haters in there as well.  

It was when you noticed the screen name of one of them that made your blood run cold.  JSmith20. ‘It can’t be’ you thought to yourself, trying to keep as composed as possible as hundreds of people were watching you game in this very moment.  

John’s last name is Smith and he always told you how his favorite number was 20, because that was how old you were when you met him.  No, but he’s still in prison.  He hasn’t gotten out.  He’ll be in there for many more years to come.  It had to be one of his friends right?  The same friend that had been delivering those letters to your old apartment.  ‘Yes, that’s right.  It’s just one of his friends trying to torment you’ you thought to yourself.  

Then, the person behind that screen name typed a message into your message box.  

Hey babe.  Do you miss me yet?  I can’t wait to see you – J

Yep, your composure went out the window reading the message.   Then another message from him popped up.  

I see you are no longer living in that little one bedroom apartment.  Did you really think you could up and move and I wouldn’t be able to find you?  Oh babe, how cute.  I will find you and we will meet again soon.  I promise – J

As you stared at the words on your screen, you heard groans from the other players on your team.  You had just lost the game.  

“Shit,” you swore, anger bubbling up inside of you.  “Fucking damnit!”  You slammed your fist on the desk.  

You rarely lost games. Losing always put you in a foul mood. But because of already being irritable and your emotions on over drive, losing just made everything worse.  

Looking at the clock it was just before five in the morning so you logged off and shut everything down.

You took your hair out of the buns, immediately feeling the tension in your head ease.  Ever so quietly, you opened the door and poked your head out into the hallway.  It was bitch black so you used your phone as a flashlight and tiptoed to the elevator. Before pressing the button on the elevator, you paused.  What if the noise of the elevator woke up Steve or Bucky?  You had promised Steve that you would get to bed at a descent time and seeing as it was just about five in the morning, well, you kind of figured you’d be in trouble.  

Instead, you opened the door to the stairs which was situated right next to the elevator.  At least taking the stairs would be much quieter.

You climbed the stairs up a few levels until you reached your living level and you waited on baited breath for a few moments.  Nothing. Nothing but silence.  As quiet as a mouse, you snuck through the door and dashed to your room, thanking your lucky stars that the palm scanner didn’t make any noise.  

You took a nice hot shower, washing off all of your makeup and the stress of the last few hours.  As much as you wanted to forget John messaging you, it wasn’t going to happen, neither was any sleep.  

Rather than even bothering to get into bed and try to relax, you sent an email to your psychiatrist letting her know that you would more than likely need a dose change on your medications.  Frantically typing away at the email, you explained how you were beginning to get irritated and it was harder for you to control your bouts of anger.  

Luckily for you, Dr. Wang was an early bird and she emailed you right back.  She wanted you to come see her for an appointment and your heart immediately dropped.  That wasn’t going to happen as one of your rules was that you weren’t allowed out of the tower by yourself.  And as much as you liked Darcy, you couldn’t trust her to go with you and not say anything to Steve or Bucky.  

Typing out your reply, you explained that you were unfortunately not able to meet in person and if there was anything else that could be done.  After you hit sent, you began to pace in your apartment, clearly on edge with everything going on.  You just wanted to feel better; you hated feeling this way.  It was as if you weren’t in control of your body and you definitely weren’t in control of your emotions.  

A notification came through your laptop and you rushed towards it, almost tripping over your feet. As you read her words, you could have cried right then and there.  She had agreed to a phone call appointment and she had time right now to discuss things with you.  

Grasping your phone, you dialed her number.

“It’s good to hear from you Y/N,” Dr. Wang stated as she answered the phone.  

“Oh Dr. Wang it is so good to hear your voice.”

She let out a soft chuckle. “Yes, it has been a little over six months since we’ve last spoken.  How are things going with you?”

“Where to begin,” you started off saying.  You let her know that you indeed met your soulmates and had moved in with them. You went over the rules that Steve had given you and she made you feel better as she stated she had seen way worse rules.  Hell, she said your rules were like a walk in the park compared to some she has heard.

“Alright, now, let’s get down to business.  How are you feeling these past few days?” she asked curiously.  

“Ugh, not good. Moving was stressful but I have been feeling really irritated over the last few and I’ve had a few bouts of anger rush through me that makes me want to punch something, but I’ve luckily been able to hold back on that.”

“What about any risky behaviors such as reckless driving, spending sprees, binge eating, drug abuse or sabotaging anything positive in your life?”

“Not yet,” you stated. You knew the routine.  She was going over all the symptoms of Borderline Personality Disorder to see what has changed with you.  

“Ok good.  How about any intense fears of abandonment or rejection?”

That question always hit you like a punch to the gut.  The only reason you had stayed with John for so long was because of that right there. He purposely wouldn’t let you see Dr. Wang or he wouldn’t take you to get your medications refilled and because of that, you were starting to feel those feelings; not wanting to be abandoned no matter what.  

“Nope,” you replied.  

“Ok then.  I am going to increase the dosing on your current medications but I want to warn you.  Without you coming in and personally seeing me and without getting some blood work done, I don’t know how well this dosing is going to work, if it will work at all. We might need to discuss changing the medication all together,” she stated.  

“I understand Dr. Wang. And do you think maybe you could prescribe some sort of sleep medication for me too?”

“I can prescribe a one week trial of a sleeping medication for you.  After that, I really need you to try and come see me in the office and we can discuss that further.  Now, did you want me to send these prescriptions into your regular pharmacy?”

“Yes, that would be great. Thank you so much Dr. Wang.”

“No worries at all Y/N. Give the office a call and get an appointment set up.”

“I will.  Thanks again.”

Now that you had your medications all taken care of, you had to figure a way to leave the tower so you could get them.  

[rainydayhogwartsimagines]

The Arrangement (Draco x reader)

Warnings: smut, abuse, yelling, arguing, mentions of suicide and death

You paced, the light of the fireplace shining off your side as you did. "Would you stop pacing!? That noise is driving me insane!" Draco snapped. You glared at him as he sat on the ladder, reading a book with a calm demeanor. You shook your head. "This is easy for you. This isn't as life altering for you as it is for me." You snapped. "And just how is this 'life altering'?" Draco asked. "I will be forced to give up my aspirations and dreams to be your wife if your father agrees to this." You snapped. Draco rolled his eyes and you continued pacing. The wonderful plusses to an arranged marriage. Draco would never ask you to give up your future, even if he was to be your husband. Of course you didn't know that, you barely knew the boy aside from his wonderful comments directed towards you at school. Of course he knew more about you than you were aware of. Your father was in that group of asshole purebloods. And if this evening worked in his favor you'd be involved with Draco Malfoy.

The door opened and Lucius looked at you and then Draco. "Draco. Do you accept Y/n's hand" say no. Please say no-- "I do." He said. Your father's smile unsettled you and you shook your head. "I don't see how this is fair! Why should I have to--" "Silence!" You father snapped. Draco noticed your retreat into yourself and the satisfied look on his face made Draco very aware of his presence. "She will live here with us and take up what we see fit... Is this to your satisfaction?" Lucius asked. "Indeed. Best of luck. She's the most hardheaded of my daughters." Your father said. You gave him a glare as Draco walked with Lucius to see them out, leaving you and Narcissa alone. You sat in a seat in front of the library fireplace, seething in your own anger. "I know how this felt... I used to be like you." She said. "Your marriage was arranged too?" You asked. "mm hmm. Yes and I was quite angry when Lucius agreed. He said it was all about decorum but I don't think he wanted to upset his father... Truth be told I think that's why Draco said yes as well." Narcissa said softly. You turned your attention to the crackles in the fire. "I'm hoping you'll give Draco a chance... I know he's a stubborn boy. Fine, but stubborn... Don't write him off just yet." Narcissa told you. You nodded.

Cut to two weeks later and you two were usually busy. But the times you did spend together was usually festered with bickering. Yelling was not uncommon either. With the amount of eye rolling present, it was a damn wonder your eyes didn't get stuck in either of your heads.

You sat at the table in the library reading a letter addressed to you. You were reading the same line again and again "your brother Charles is dead" you slammed the letter down and scared the crap out of Draco as you did. "Jesus woman! What in the blazes-- Y/n?" He noticed the shock on your face followed by anger and sadness and he walked over to the letter, reading it as he did. He looked at you and then the letter before disappearing with it. "Great. So now he thinks I'm over dramatic" you muttered. Quite the contrary considering he went to his father and showed him the letter.

"They tell her this news in a letter!? A fucking letter!?" Draco asked. "Language Draco... Though this is... Troubling... How is she handling this?" Lucius asked. "She was shocked I think..." Draco sighed. "Don't you think that her fiancée should comfort her?" Lucius asked. "She finds no comfort with me... She usually just insults me." Draco admitted. Lucius rose a brow and got up, walking to the library. You leaned up and sighed. "I'm sorry for your loss Y/n... If you need anything at all we're here." Lucius said softly. You nodded. "I'd like to be alone if you don't mind..." You said softly. Draco and Lucius left you to your thoughts. Still, Draco was seething. A letter? Your father tells you through a letter? You must've sat alone for hours in that room, staring at the fire in tears. The door opened again and Draco sat down, handing you the letter. You took it, looking at it and then tossing it into the fire. Draco rose a brow watching you. "A letter." You scoffed. "He tells me he's dead in a LETTER." You said, throwing a book. Draco stood up watching you. "after everything I've withstood and am dealing with he gives me a fucking letter!?" You said to yourself. "That isn't fair to you." Draco said. You again, scoffed, sitting back down and staring at the fire. "There's a lot he's done that hasn't been fair to me." You murmured as you pulled your sleeves over your hands. Draco rose a brow but turned back to the fire. "Thank you." You muttered. "For listening to me." Draco looked over at you, noticing the numbed stare into the fire as you both watched the parchment burn in the fireplace.

You took weeks to grieve, spending most of that time in your room or the library. However after a while normality resumed and you and Draco were at each other's throats once more. "You are the biggest pain in my arse you know that?!" You asked. "I'm the biggest pain-- Have you met you!? Every five damn minutes it's a new insult!" Draco sighed. "Well maybe if you weren't so angry all the time it wouldn't be so bad!" You said.  "I only do that because someone is hurdling insults at me." He said. You sighed. "This is hard okay? I'm not at home, my brother is dead and now I'm in some arranged marriage with a boy who tormented me in school, excuse me if I'm not exactly fond of this experience." You grumbled. You sat in front of the fire, Draco sitting in the chair next to you. "This isn't exactly easy for me either y'know." Draco muttered. You stared at the fire as it popped. The door opened and you turned around to see Lucius and Narcissa. "Enjoying each other's company?" Narcissa asked. "Hardly" both of you replied. Well at least the two of you could agree on that.

Draco sighed and you muttered something. "Hmm. Dinner is in thirty minutes. Try to be civil." Lucius said. You nodded and sighed as they both left. "This is ridiculous, surely we can get along." Draco said. You didn't say anything. "Y/n we're getting married, we need to at least try to be civil." He said. You let out a sharp sigh. "I know you hate me--" "I don't hate you Draco." You muttered. "....You don't?" He asked. "No. Strongly dislike? Yes. Hate, no." You said. "we need to find some common ground." Draco said. "Fine." You sighed. "We don't hate each other." You said. "Alright. Fine." He nodded. "Is our marriage saved yet?" You asked sarcastically. "Are you always this optimistic or is that just the new engagement?" He asked. "Getting Seven rejected suitors does that to you! Especially when I don't want to be here in the first place" You snapped. "Seven-- SEVEN!? Good God woman what made that happen!?" He asked. You walked out into the hall. "Does pure spite count for something?" You asked. "Wha-- No it doesn't!" Draco said making Lucius and Narcissa look at each other as they heard you two bicker. "Then I have no clue, must be something in the water. I'm perfectly lovely" You concluded. "Perfectly lovely my arse, you've been insufferable since you've been here!" He sighed. "Well if spite counted we would have an answer" you said making Lucius bite back a laugh. "Sometimes I think you're lucky I agreed to this because you'd be a bitter spinster if I said no!" Draco griped making Narcissa grip Lucius' hand to stop from laughing. "Oh is this your idea of sweet talk!? If so, oh take me now! I think I'm falling for you due to your pretentious ass!" You said making Lucius almost snort. "Great! Include that in the vows then, along with the fact that this will be the longest marriage of a lifetime!" Draco concluded. "Insufferable twit!" You snapped. "Bitter spinster!" He shot back before you opened the dining room's doors to see Draco's parents, remaining composed as they looked at you. "Is everything alright?" Narcissa asked. "Ahem... Yes." You said, Draco leaning on the door to seem more natural. "What's for dinner?" He asked. Lucius looked over to Narcissa "Oh lovely bitter spinster, what is for dinner?" Lucius teased making you and Draco flush with embarrassment. The evening for the most part was silent until the end of dinner. "Did you ever take up any hobbies at home Y/n?" Lucius asked, perhaps to help you and Draco find common ground. "Well... I took up fencing for a while." You said and Draco stifled a snort. You glared at him. "What's so funny over there?" You asked. "Nothing, but you'd think for such a graceful sport you'd remain a bit more proper." he said. "Why you little--" "Ahem." Narcissa cleared her throat, eyeing the two of you. "Was there any more.. Creative outlets available to you?" Lucius asked. "My sisters and I were required to take up chorus and an instrument." You murmured. "What was yours?" Draco asked, beating his father to the question. "Violin and piano." you answered. "Were you any good at chorus?" Narcissa asked. "Not exactly." You said. Draco gave an amused smile but halted when he noticed the distant and pained expression. "It's why I picked up two instruments." You said. "I see..." Lucius said, making the same observations as Draco. You cleared your throat, seemingly coming out of the fog that you were in. "Why the questions, if you don't mind me asking?" You asked. "Your room will be ready by tomorrow and we're making sure we have the accommodations for you." Narcissa said. "But... I already have a room?" You said confused. "A room for you and Draco." Lucius said making you both look up, full focus. "I'm sorry, what!?" Draco asked. "You two are to be married, it is customary--" "Father." "For the husband and wife to share their rooms. In fact both of you are sleeping together tonight." Lucius said. Both of you shot murderous glares to each other. "you two are excused." Lucius finally said.

You and Draco went to the library. "Oh tell me you have somewhere else to brood" You grumbled. "I do not brood and for your information, you're in my house!" He said. "Well in that case, if you're so fucking proud of the house, have fun sleeping on the floor!" You yelled. He huffed and so did you, the door opening and Narcissa stepping in. "Mother, tell me father is joking." Draco begged. "I'm afraid he isn't. And for good reason." She said. "What does that mean?" You asked. "it means, dear, that you and Draco need to basically be locked in a room together until you act at least somewhat civil." Narcissa said. "I would assume by the arguing you would want to separate us." you uttered. You looked up. "Sorry." you said. "But making us share a room? Come on mother, locking us in here would've been easier!" Draco said. "Here has distractions. In a room elsewhere forces you to talk." Narcissa said. "Mother--" "Draco, no arguing." She said leaving. "This has got to be the worst day." You sighed, slumping down to the floor. "You're being dramatic." He sighed. He reached for the door handle. "Are you coming?" He asked. "I hate that we have no other options." You uttered, getting up and following. You walked into the room which was dark and bland, yet still sleek and elegant. "No offense but uhm... Do you guys all have the same obsession with the color black?" You asked, referring to the black floor and wall trims. "Ask my father, personally I'm more of a fan of blue." He shrugged. That explained the greyish blue wallpaper in the room. Draco slipped off his shirt and you jumped and looked away. "You do realize we're bound to see--" "Do not remind me!" You groaned. He chuckled, changing his clothes as you changed into yours. "You act like--" He turned to see your back, riddled with scars. Some faded, barely noticeable, others more present and difficult to ignore. "I can feel you staring Draco." you said, sliding on your shirt. Draco turned away. "It's the scars right? That made you stare?" you asked. "Where did those... How are they there?" He asked. Silence fell upon the room, not even the sound of fabric against skin was active. He turned around to see you standing still. You seemed spaced out at the question. "Y/n?" He asked. You cleared your throat, changing. "My father." You finally answered. He frowned. "Can we not talk about this please? This is not something--" "Alright" Draco said, a concerned observing expression on his face. You swore for a moment it almost appeared that he cared.

You laid down, facing towards the window away from Draco, while his back was turned to you. Both of you slept for the most part through the night, but something was off. He felt you shift multiple times, leaving him awake. He almost woke you up for a snarky comment but you shot forward, gasping for air as you did. He leaned forward, putting a hand on your back. "Y/n? What's wrong-- hey look at me" he said. You gripped your head and shook. "I-I can't even get his voice-- I can't get it to stop--" you whimpered. He frowned, understanding the "he" you were referring to. He pulled you closer to him. "I'm here Y/n..." He said softly. You leaned back against him, your chest constantly rising and falling. "Breathe Y/n." He said softly. You listened, softening your breathing. He slowly let go and you whimpered. "Don't let me go." you whispered. He pulled you to him, resting your head on his chest.

The morning started with Narcissa opening the door expecting to see a murderous sight. Instead she was met with seeing Draco holding you close to him, his chest falling and rising with your head rested on him. "Lucius!" she whisper-shouted. Lucius walked over and rose a brow. "Curious." he muttered. They left you alone though, not daring to interrupt the civility in the house. You woke up first, the sunlight hitting your face causing you to wince and lean up. The sudden movement made Draco wake up. What did he have his arm around? He blinked a few times, seeing you stretch. Oh. OH.

He looked at you surprised. "Draco, are you alright?" You asked, noticing his wild eyed stare. "I'm not dead?" He asked. You rolled your eyes and got up, him doing the same a few minutes later. You both dressed in silence, you unsure what to say. Usually you had some remark for anything, right now you were at a loss for words. Draco was right there when you needed him, he reacted the way you needed him to. "Thank you Draco... For last night." You found your self saying as Draco adjusted his sleeves. He looked over, his hair of course looking very elegant as it usually did.  "I'm here any time you need me Y/n..." He began. You struggled with a button in the back and he pushed aside your hair, fixing it for you. "I know we argue. But I don't want you to feel like you're ever alone or helpless." He said softly. "I don't think I could ever feel alone when I have a strange blonde man following me." you teased. That made him smile... That wasn't a jab, that was a joke. You turned around to face him and you snorted. "You went to Hogwarts, how many years? And you still cannot figure out how to tie a fucking tie?" You asked with a snort. He rolled his eyes and you took its sides and began tying it. He rose a brow, watching your small hands at work before you made a perfect tie. "Thank you..." He said. "You're..." You looked in his eyes. "Your... eyes are silver?" You asked. He rose a brow. "You've never noticed?" He asked."Usually when I'm focused on you I'm forming new insults and not focused actually on you." You said with a small laugh. He chuckled. "And now?" He asked. "I'm... I don't think I'm so angry with you anymore." You admitted.

The week was strange to both of you. Any insults that were thrown were more of a joking matter, any time Draco actually spent time with you, you actually enjoyed it. Lucius nearly died when he was looking for Draco and found him reading next to you by resting his head in your lap. You were smiling. As in: "Head over heels now" smiling. Then came the family dinner. The protocol required that the family of the bride to be to have dinner with the groom's family. You absolutely dreaded this more than anything. "I'll be with you the whole time Y/n." Draco assured. You shook your head. "It won't stop him from getting inside my mind, trust me." You muttered as you changed behind a partition. Draco sighed. "The tie? Again? Seriously Draco, seven years at Hogwarts and you never learned how to tie a tie?" You asked. He sighed again, getting antsy before your hands wandered to his tie. He looked at you and swallowed. "Y/n.." He paused. "I know I know: I need to stop mocking you for this tie thing, but seriously Draco that's almost two thousand whole days to learn--" "You look beautiful." He said softly. You blushed, avoiding his eyes because you knew if you saw them you'd basically be putty in his hands. "Thank you..." You mumbled. You almost pulled away your hand but he stopped you, holding it. Something about this was just... Reassuring. You cleared your throat, pulling away. "We should get downstairs... My father hates waiting." You murmured.

You walked in, standing at your chair and waiting for Lucius to allow you to sit. The silent stares from your mother made you almost shake and Draco could see that. Lucius finally entered, noticing your facial expressions and giving Draco a "is she okay" look. Draco looked at your mother and then back at Lucius. Lucius nodded and took his place, allowing you to sit down. Dinner was stressful to say the least, the silence making you very uneasy. "Y/n, darling you've hardly touched your food, are you feeling alright?" Narcissa asked. "Yes ma'am." You mumbled. Draco rose a brow and your father almost seemed... Happy. With you're discomfort.

"Y/n has taken quite well to Draco. The two are practically inseparable now." Narcissa said. Draco hid a small smile. "Has Y/n been keeping up with her lessons?" Your father asked. "....Yes. she's quite exceptional with piano." Lucius answered with a brow raised. "Lilian was exceptional with piano as well. Better actually." He said. You frowned and Draco put a hand over yours, looking at you. "Y/n always had trouble prioritizing her duties." Your mother said. "Maybe she had trouble because she was trying to ignore the obvious--" Lucius shook his head and Draco gripped your hand. You put a hand on his arm and shook your head. He swallowed but nodded. "Hmm." Your father made a noise of acknowledgement. "in two weeks time is the engagement party. Is there any requests?" Lucius asked. Almost finished. Thank God. "Do not be afraid to discipline my daughter if she doesn't do something to your liking." Your father answered.

Sound seemed to drown out, him staring daggers into you. "She isn't cattle!" Draco finally snapped. "Stop it." You thought, your throat not working to form even a whisper. "You don't know the kind of pain he's capable of" "She is a human being who I happen to care about, do not ever expect me or my family to hurt her the same way you have." Draco growled. Lucius paused. "What?" He asked. “Make the voice stop.” You thought, retreating into yourself. "She has scars father--" "This is absolutely ridiculous!" Your father halted and Lucius was now looking at your father from head to toe. Narcissa frowned and glared at him before noticing you. "Make it stop, please just get this to stop." You thought to yourself as you shook. "Draco get Y/n out of here." She said. He opened his mouth but stopped noticing the pure terror on your face. "Y/n?" Draco whispered. You were shaking and Draco pulled you up, walking you to the library. He closed the door and you shook. "Y/n--" "Please don't hurt me" you whimpered. Draco sat you down and kneeled in front of you. "Y/n I'm not going to hurt you. You're safe." He said softly. He cupped your cheek. "What did they do to you?" He asked making you break down into sobs.

He held you close, soothing you until you fell asleep and then carried you to bed. He sighed, running a hand over his face, closing the bedroom door as he stood outside of it. He walked to his father's study to find Lucius looking out the window and drinking. "Father--" "Is it really true?" Lucius asked. "Did he beat her?" He asked. Draco sucked in a breath. "Yes. She has nightmares father, she'll wake up crying." Draco answered. Lucius sat down the glass Draco could only assume was filled with scotch and turned around. "We must tread carefully then. He can retract this engagement as long as it is within these coming weeks." Lucius said. "Surely he wouldn't." Draco said. "He would if it meant someone finding out." Lucius answered. "I halted him from doing that very action tonight. I understand your anger. I too am cross, but you must control this in his presence or else we're sending that girl into a lion's den." Lucius said. "Yes father." Draco said. After a long silence Draco reached for the door. "Son." Lucius said. He looked over with a confused glance. "I'm proud of you for protecting her." Lucius said. Draco gave a small smile, walking back to you.

You were still asleep, most likely exhausted. Draco changed, laying next to you. You instinctively moved into his arms, Draco holding you as you slept. "Thank you." You murmured. He kissed your head. "Anything for you dear."

The next morning Draco woke up before you. You leaned up, getting changed before walking out. You walked through the halls, looking through the windows and out to the garden. It was raining today. You felt a hand land on your shoulder. You turned to see Draco and you smiled. "Morning." You mumbled. "Good morning." He said. "Would you mind taking a walk with me?" He asked. You rose a brow but followed him. You walked through the manor, you confused. "Any particular reason you wanted to walk?" You asked. "I mainly wanted to enjoy your company." He admitted. "O-oh..." You said with a small blush coming to your cheeks. "Uh.... I wanted to say thank you... Draco... For last night. You... It meant a lot." You said. "It was nothing... I'm glad that you trust me though." He said. "Draco... I know that I'm a bit... Flawed. But I want you to know that if you need anything that I'm here." You said. He smiled, looking at you. His silver eyes seemed to pierce through you as he stared. "Draco--" "Y/n, good you're awake. Would you mind stepping into my study?" Lucius asked.

You sighed. "Duty calls." You muttered before stepping in. You closed the door and took a moment to get rid of the rosy cheeks induced by Draco. "Are you alright?" He asked. "Hmm? Yes what did you-- Marie!?" You gaped. Your sister turned around. "Hello darling." She said with a soothing smile. She rose and you hugged her. "My goodness, what brings you here?" You asked. "I wanted to see you before you got married! That and I want to also meet your husband to be!" She said. "Oh! Aha... Well--" "Where is the boy--" "I'll get him!" You said. You stepped out. Oh God... She's so perky she might kill Draco with smiles.

Draco rose a brow, leaning off the wall. "Were you just... Standing out here?" You asked. "Hmm. Yes I planned on spending most of my day with you." He said. You smiled slightly. "Ahaha... Well my sister Marie wants to meet you." You said. "She does?" Draco asked. "Yes... Though I'm afraid her happy demeanor might kill your whole brooding attitude that you maintain." You chuckled. He gave you a small smirk. "I do not brood." He said before walking in. "Yes. You do." You said taking his hand with both of your hands. He smiled at the obvious excitement to see your sister. Marie stood up and curtsied to him. "Pleasure to meet you Draco." She said. He took her hand and kissed it, before rising and taking his place next to you. "Oh he's polite. A lot better than that boy Joanna almost married." Marie said. You tried not to snort. "The boy from Noughtington?" You asked. "Indeed. That boy was a walking disaster." Marie chuckled. "With the--" "Fondue fountain." You both said before laughing. Draco smiled at your laughing and Marie noticed. He was smitten. Oh it was so obvious. "Draco, are you looking forward to marrying my sister?" She asked. Draco looked at you with a chuckle. "Well if the first week of marriage is like her first week here I think I can wait." He teased. You resisted again to laugh. "...What was so bad about your first week?" Marie asked after noticing the amused look on Lucius face. "She absolutely tormented the boy." Lucius chuckled. "Tormented? Oh no that's an understatement-- she followed me around just to insult me." He said with a laugh. You chuckled and seemed to be looking at him with affection. "But." He began looking at you and taking your hand. "I wouldn't change a thing about her." He said. Your cheeks again heated up, becoming slightly noticeable as you smiled. Marie smiled.

"I'm glad she has found someone to love her. Some of father's arrangements..." Marie cleared her throat. "It doesn't bode well." She said. You nodded knowingly. "Elizabeth, may she rest in peace." You both said in unison. Draco rose a brow. "You've lost a sister?" Lucius asked. "She was the eldest. I'm afraid father misjudged the family and..." Marie cleared her throat. "They drove her to suicide." You said. "Promise me you two" Marie said to Lucius and Draco. "You will keep my father away from Y/n." She said. "Well we--" "I swear to you if he lays a finger on her I will not hesitate to return that favor." Draco said making you blush again. He was so serious and hellbent on keeping you safe. "We promise you she's safe here." Lucius said softly, taking notice of Draco's determined look.

You noticed the rain had stopped as did Draco. "Would you mind allowing Y/n and I to go on a walk? Y/n loves the garden after it rains." Draco asked. He noticed that? Christ, is there anything this boy didn't know about you? "You're excused, Marie how long are you staying?" Lucius asked. "Until the wedding." She said. You all froze. "This is my favorite sister, I'm making sure this is the right place for her, surely you understand." Marie said. Lucius nodded. "Very well." Lucius said. "Enjoy your walk you two." Marie said. You both walked out and Draco let out a long breath. "She's... Perky?" He said. "Told she'd interrupting the brooding." You said with a chuckle. "I, once again, do not brood!" He said. You laughed and he smiled. "You've been smiling a lot more lately though, I will give you that." You said. "I've been enjoying my company." He said to you. You smiled, tucking a loose strand behind your ear.

You observed the roses as Draco sat in the garden, him noticing your love for the roses. "Draco?" You asked. "Hmm?" He made a noise to acknowledge your call while sitting up straight. "How did you know I liked the garden after it rains?" You asked. Draco pondered. "I think it was more after observing you." He asked. "You've observed me?" You asked. He chuckled. "I do. I do that more than I think you realize." He said. You looked over, a slight amusement daring to play on your lips. "What did you notice?" You asked. "hmm." He stood up looking at you. "You enjoy reading." He said. "Well that's obvious, our first conversation was in a library." You laughed. "You pace when you're upset, to which I do the same." He said. "Continue." You said with a smile. "You actually do carry yourself properly almost standing sometimes like you have a sword, especially when you argue." He noticed. "Oh?" "I suspect that's because to you, arguing is a battle of wits." He teased. You rolled your eyes with a laugh. "If it doesn't rain, around this time you're outside here, reading. Usually a female writer like Bronte or Austen." He said. How did he-- "You always have your hair up in some sort of way, most likely to keep yourself from having to mess with it while you're reading." He stepped closer. "You have tea with my mother on Wednesday." He took your hand, holding it. "Your hand still has the callouses from the violin." Your heart was pounding. "The roses are your favorite, I think you love to feel the petals" he said, getting closer to you. You could feel his breath now. "You stare at me when you don't think I'm watching and you make notes of my movement because you know it reflects how I truly feel." He whispered. You both stood in silence, only the chirping of birds sounding off. Draco's eyes were staring into yours, almost as if they were searching. His hand held your cheek and your heart pounded. "Draco..." You whispered. You had to say something didn't you? Why on earth did you say this boy's name? "I think I..." You swallowed. "I think--" "Y/nnnn! Narcissa wanted you!" Marie called. "I'm beginning to despise your sister." He murmured, still very close to your face. "I should go." You said softly. He nodded and stepped back, your face returning to the cool air of the midday. You walked past. "Y/n." Draco said making you turn around.

It all happened so quickly. The pull of his hand, your lips on his, my God they were warm. "When you are finished, come to library." He said softly. "As... As you wish..." You said shocked. You pulled away, eyes still wide as you walked. Marie rose a brow as you came into her view, your fingers lightly pressing your bottom lip with a shocked face. "Y/n are you ill? You look like you've seen a ghost." Marie asked. "...What? Oh yes! Yes I'm fine!" You said quickly walking into the manor. Marie rose a brow but Draco soon came into view with a smile and shaking of the head. He almost seemed... Giddy?

Marie looked at you and then Draco and rose a brow. "Y/n did something happen between you and your fiancée?" She asked. "What!? What in the world would make you think that!? Haha, Marie you're so ridiculous, where's Narcissa!?" You asked. She squinted at your expression. "...The day room... For tea... It's Wednesday dear." Marie reminded. "I know you have tea with my mother on Wednesdays..." "Right... Right! I should go!" You said, walking quickly your face getting redder as you walked.

You walked into the day room, sitting down with a frantic look. "Y/n? Are you alright dear?" Narcissa asked. You closed the door and ran a hand over your face. "Your son has got my mind running all over the place!" You said. She gave an amused smile. "Has he now?" She asked. "He took a walk with me and started talking about how he looks at me when I'm not looking-- has he lost his mind!?" You asked. "Well--" "And then he had the gall to kiss me!" You groaned. "...... He did what?" Narcissa asked, a wide smile showing. "At least try to hide the joy here, he's literally driving me to the brink of insanity." You said. "Sorry, yes. He kissed you?" Narcissa asked. "Yes! Marie came to fetch me and he just-- Gah! Did you know he observes me!?" You groaned. "why do you think you're going mad?" Narcissa asked. "That has to be what this feeling is right!? I'm descending into madness!?" You asked frantically as you paced. "Wait, what feeling?" Narcissa asked. "that feeling that just comes around when Draco is around!" You said. Narcissa could see this clearly. When you said Draco's name, the sentence ended with you smiling. You paused, realizing the smile. "SEE!? HE'S GOT ME SMILING LIKE A GIT!" you whined. Narcissa laughed. "Y/n. You're not mad." Narcissa assured. "Then what the hell is ailing me? Oh God is it something else worse?" You asked. "You're in love."  Narcissa said. You laughed. "No. No that's not... No!" You said. "Darling you can't say Draco's name without smiling." Narcissa said. "Sure I can. Draco-- Damn it!" You hissed after you smiled. Draco who was walking by heard his name. "Is it so out of the realm of possibility?" Narcissa asked. "I mean... No..." You mumbled. "Tell me, what have you observed from Draco." Narcissa said. You sat down. "he's a twat." You mumbled making him shake his head with a smile. "He's intelligent though... My god he keeps his wits about himself." You muttered. "And?" Narcissa asked. "And he always is there when I need him...." You mumbled. "And he's right there every morning... Holding me." You said smiling to yourself. Draco smiled to himself. "And he..." You shook your head with a small laugh. "He reminds me of Mr. Darcy." You said. "how so?" She asked. "He has the same retorts... And he doesn't hold any punches when he talks to me." You said. "And that pleases you?" Narcissa asked. "It means he knows I can handle myself..." You said. You looked over at Narcissa, that warm feeling returning. "I'm in love aren't I?" You asked. "Head over heels." Narcissa said. Draco smiled, walking past.

"what's got you so giddy mister Draco?" Marie asked. He cleared his throat. "It's just a very... Very good day don't you think?" He asked. She rose a brow. "I suppose?" She said as he entered the library. "What on earth have I walked into?" She muttered to herself. She walked into the day room. "Uhm. Mrs. Malfoy?" Marie asked making you look up. "Hmm?" She asked. "Something strange is happening." Marie said. "Oh?" Narcissa asked. "...Yes Draco was smiling like a madman earlier he almost seemed... Giddy? And poor Y/n walked out of the garden looking like she's seen a ghost." Marie said confused. "Wait, when did you see Draco?" You asked. "Just now, he was walking past--" "Oh no." You said, cheeks heating up. "What's wrong?" Marie asked. "It appears that we need THICKER DOORS." You groaned making Narcissa chuckle. You got up and sighed. "Where are you off to?" Marie asked. "Killing an eavesdropping moron." You muttered making Narcissa almost snort.

You stepped into the library and Draco looked up with a kind smile. Damn that adorable face. "Eavesdrop anything interesting lately?" You asked with a straight face. Draco chuckled. "It appears someone has become smitten." He said. "Oh ha ha." You said with an eye roll. "It appears we both feel the same way as well." He said softly. You looked at him, brows raised. "I don't... Think I quite follow... You.. you love me?" You asked. Draco laughed and shook his head. "Of course I do Y/n." Draco said, shutting the book in his hand. He set it down. "You have become my world Y/n... I can only hope I've done the same for you." He said softly. You let a smile fall over you. "Yes... Yes you have." You admitted. He again, held your cheek. "I love you Y/n." He said softly. "I love you too Draco." You said softly. The gap between the two of you came to a close and he dropped the book entirely making you jump. He chuckled as did you before you noticed your sister standing there shocked. Your eyes widened and you shoved Draco away making him confused before he too noticed Marie. "Well it's too late now, I've already seen your... Festivities." She snorted. You rose a brow. "Festivities? Really Marie?" You asked. "I didn't know you were in here!" She said. "All you said before you left was you were killing someone!" Marie added making Draco snort. You picked up his book and smacked his arm with it. "Idiot." You murmured. "Yes, I am your idiot though." He said softly. You smiled. "Are you prepared for the day after tomorrow?" Marie asked. "What's then?" You asked. She blinked. "....You cannot be serious. How on earth do you forget your own birthday!?" She asked. Draco looked at you shocked. "Your birthday is this week!?" He asked. "It is!?" You asked. "My God woman, how have you lived this long?" She asked with a grin. "I'm sorry I barely remembered it's Wednesday today and you're expecting me to know that my birthday is in two days?" You asked making Draco laugh. "Draco really turned your head that much around hmm?" She teased. Your cheeks turned pink at the mention and Draco laughed. "To be fair she does the same for me." Draco said. "Oh do I now?" You asked with a laugh. "Why do you think I can never seem to put a tie on?" He asked. You blinked a few times. "What?" You asked. "You're correct, we've been to a private school Y/n, one of which includes ties in the uniform. I've had plenty of practice but living with you has made it very difficult to focus, especially  as of late." He teased. Your face was redder by the second. "Oh come now Draco, you're teasing her too intensely. Any more jabs at her now and she'll be as red as a tomato." Marie laughed. "You two are going to be the death of me!" You whined as you walked towards the door. "Where are you off to?" Draco asked. "Away, far away. I swear you two exist to torment my mental state." You groaned making him laugh as you left. "You really do love her." Marie noticed. Draco smiled. "Indeed I do." He said with that ridiculous smile on his face. Marie shook her head. "Did you not realize it was her birthday?" She asked. "No. She never mentioned it to me, I'm honestly surprised that your father never brought it up." Draco said. "They never celebrated birthdays. Mother always did, father, never." Marie said. "Every time I've met your mother she doesn't appear to care." He said. "That's because she's our stepmother." Marie said softly. Draco rose a brow. "Is you mother... Divorced?" "Passed on I'm afraid. When Y/n was nine." Marie explained. "I see..." Draco said. "Was you father--" "In the pleasant mood he's always in? Yes. All the time." She muttered.

"hmm." Draco nodded. "Elizabeth took the beatings after mother died... And then when Wesley and I married it was Y/n." Marie said. "... You're a twin?" Draco noticed. "Hmm? Oh no! No we happened to marry around the same. Y/n's a triplet  though." Marie answered. "What?" Draco asked, clearly surprised. "Oh yes. Thomas and..." Marie frowned. "Charles..." She muttered. Draco paused. "Oh... Oh no." Draco said realizing something. "What's wrong?" Marie asked. "was she close to Charles?" Draco asked. "Thomas and him both were." Marie said. "Then I know why she didn't want to remember her birthday." Draco said. Marie facepalmed. "I feel so stupid I didn't catch on before." She said. Draco cleared his throat, before his eyes seemed to get huge. "What's with you?" Marie asked. "I don't have a present for my own fiancée..." He muttered. "Ohhh... Oh shite, I don't either." Marie said. "Wha-- you're the one that mentioned her birthday!" He said. "it took her twin sending me a letter to realize it was in two days!" Marie said. "...Diagon alley!" He said, snapping his fingers. "What?" She asked "We have to go to Diagon alley, now! We've got floo powder!" He said.

"Draco she spends most of her free time with you we would need..." She paused. "A distraction-- would your parents be willing to help?" Marie asked. Draco set down the book and walked out. He stepped into his father's study. "Father are you busy?" He asked. "Well--" "I need you to distract Y/n for two hours." Draco said. "....Why, pray tell do you need me to distract her?" Lucius asked. "Y/n's birthday is in two days, I need to get her a gift." Draco said. "Two days? My goodness, why hasn't she said anything?" Lucius asked. "She hasn't kept up with the days since she moved in." Draco explained. "Alright... How should I go about distracting her?" Lucius asked. "Give her something to do-- Books! She loves to read or-- Maybe get her to practice music!" Draco pondered. "Wait! You haven't spent that much quality time with her, just get to know her!" He said. ".....Alright, how do I do that exactly?" Lucius asked. "Father, just do what you do with me." He said. "But what if she's easily distracted--" "I really need this father." Draco begged. Lucius let out a long sigh and Draco stared at his father. "...fine... Send her in." Lucius said. "Thank you father!" Draco said with relief. "Have fun." He murmured as Draco ran off to find you.

It didn't take long to find you, you were sitting on the bench, reading. Your ,h/c strands moving ever so slightly because of the breeze. Draco smiled as he walked over. You felt as if someone was watching you as you read, putting down your book to see Draco. "Hi." You said softly. God your voice.... Seriously what did Draco drink this morning that made you lovely to him? "Father... Wanted to speak with you." Draco said. "Hmm? Alright... Draco are you okay you seem... Distracted?" You asked. "You look radiant today, that's all." He said making you smile. "what did I do today to earn your attention this often?" You asked curiously. "hmm... I'm not sure, does breathing count?" Draco asked. He kneeled so he was closer to your face. "Your eyes are something poetry is often written about." He said looking at you. "Did someone slip you Amortentia this morning?" You asked. "Nope. Just in love. That's all." He said. You put your book beside you, cupping his face in your hands. Draco smiled, moving strands of hair out of your eyes. You pressed a kiss to his forehead and sighed. "I suppose I should go see what your father needs--" "He can wait... For a little bit." Draco said with a smile. You laughed and rolled your eyes. "You're a child." You said. "No, I just would like my future wife's attention." He said making you smile. He kissed you, making you smile. He loved seeing that smile now. Used to it was almost a sign of mockery or the result of him falling. Now it was the best parts of his day. He kissed your lips a couple of more times and you laughed. "I really should go see what your father wants Draco." You said. He smiled and rolled his eyes. "Fine, but we are definitely continuing this later." Draco said with a devious smirk. You shook your head as you walked into the manor. You walked to Lucius' study and he looked up.

"Draco said you needed me?" You asked. "Uh..." Lucius seemed to halt his entire brain. Shit. One job Lucius. You have one job. "...I... Realized that I don't really know you as well as Narcissa does... So..." He noticed Marie and Draco running into the library with a bag of floo powder. He flicked his wand ever so slightly so the door would close. "So?" You asked, raising a brow. "So tell me about yourself!" He said, way too excited in the subject. "Well... Uhm... What would you like to know?" You asked. Shit. "Uh--" seriously man, can you make another fucking noise!? The sounds of muffled shouting made you turn your head. "What's your favorite number!?" Lucius asked, a slight deranged look appearing in his eyes. "....What?" You asked. ".... What's your favorite number?" He asked. What kind of question is that? "...Eight... I guess?" You answered confused. "Alright, Draco wanted me to get to know you, I have absolutely no clue how to go about this." Lucius finally snapped. You blinked. "But... Our relationship is fine?" You said confused. "Yes well he thinks we need to be closer." Lucius said. "Hmm.. does that mean I'm allowed to ask questions too?" You asked. "Please do, this awkward silence will drive me mad if it's held long enough." He said. "How do you know my father?" You asked. "He works in the ministry. I was also present for his second marriage." Lucius said. "I didn't see you there?" You said confused. "I made it very very brief." He said making you nod. "Do you get along with your stepmother?" Lucius asked. "... Not particularly." You admitted. "Hmm. Good to know. She was dreadful even during the wedding." Lucius said making you laugh. "Yep. sounds like her." You nodded. "Do... Hmm." Lucius pondered if his next question would make you uncomfortable. "do you enjoy the company of any of your family?" He asked. "All of my siblings are kinder than my parents. They could see the favoritism at a young age and stopped trying to please him as much as I did." You explained. "Hmm... Well your brother would like to visit Friday--" you seemed to perk up at the mention of your brother. "Thomas?" You asked. "Yes... And Wesley." He nodded. "I love spending time with my brothers sir." You said with a smile. "I can see that. I'll let them know they're welcome to come here." He said. "I will warn you... They might pull what Marie did and stay here until the wedding." You warned. "It is customary for the family of the bride to stay with us a week prior from the wedding... Even though this is about three weeks early, I'll allow it." Lucius assured. You rose a brow. "Three weeks?" You asked. "Hmm?" Lucius asked. "The wedding...is in three weeks?" You asked. "Technically four. Why?" Lucius asked. "Nothing I just... It's the first I've heard an official date." You admitted. "I suppose you should talk to Narcissa about a dress... I'm not sure that's actually in order." Lucius said. You opened your mouth before hearing a loud crash making you stand. "What in the blazes was that!?" You asked. "Uhh--" you reached for the handle and the door opened before you could reach it. "....Draco what the hell happened to you?" You asked. "...Floo powder explosion" he admitted as he was covered in ash and soot. Lucius facepalmed and you started laughing making both of the men look at you. "You're ridiculous, you know that?" You asked Draco, wiping away the ash on his face. He smiled and laughed. "Yes, it appears that way doesn't it?" He asked. You shook your head. "Wait... Why would you need floo powder--" "I'm going to take a bath! I'll be back." Draco said before kissing your cheek and leaving. You rose a brow and turned back around. "You were distracting me weren't you?" You asked. "What? No no no I--" you gave him a blank stare. "Yes. Yes I was."

You ended up looking for Draco after an hour passed. "Draco can we-- OH MY GOD!" You screamed after seeing him naked. You slammed the door closed, your heart pounding as you stood there. You could hear him laughing. "I already told you it'd be bound to happen." Draco said. You almost seemed to be trying to hype yourself up to walk back in again. After all you did see.... GAH. NOT TIME TO THINK ABOUT THAT! You let out a long sigh. "Draco I'm walking in." You said. You could do this, you could do this you could-- you walked in and he was still shirtless making you nearly scream.

You could not do this.

Draco laughed, looking at your panic. "Love, this is bound to happen eventually." Draco said. "How are you so comfortable with this?" You asked staring at the ceiling. "I've shown you some very vulnerable parts of my personality. Personally: I'd prefer you see me naked over watching me in a vulnerable state." Draco said sliding on his shirt. You nodded. "Okay.... I guess that makes sense--" you said looking at Draco who was smiling at you. You rolled your eyes. "Take joy in my embarrassment, you're the one that has to deal with me having to take a bath later. Then we'll see who's embarrassed." You sassed. He chuckled. "Touché my dear, touché." He said. You looked in his eyes and smiled before squinting. ".... You're up to something!" You concluded. "What?" He asked. "You're up to something! I don't know what yet, but you're up to something!" You said. "I am not..." He looked into your eyes. "Okay I may have something planned but I'm not saying what that is!" He said. "Pffff... You crack like your father does!" You said with a laugh. "I do not-- Wait what does that mean?" He asked. "I asked if me being in his office was a distraction and he cracked." You said with a laugh. "Damn it father!" He groaned. "So. Whatcha hiding?" You asked with a smirk. He shook his head. "I'm not saying. "Dracooo... What are you hiding?" You asked again. "not tellinnnggg!" He said walking past you. You smirked, jumping onto his back making him jump. "What the hell--" "Tell me!" You said. "No!" He laughed. Marie snorted seeing you on his back. "Am I to assume this is about.... The thing?" Marie asked. Draco nodded with a laugh and you hung over his shoulder making him laugh harder. "Tell meeeee!" You said. He snorted and you laughed before almost hitting the floor. Draco managed to grab you beforehand and he laughed harder. He kissed your face and you smiled. "You will be the death of me I swear." He laughed.

Marie smiled. "we should get to dinner, I'm dying to get to know your parents!" Marie said. "They're really sweet." You said as Draco helped you up. You all walked into the dining room, taking your places. Lucius sat down, as did all of you. "So, there's a boy named Thomas that is to stay with us?" Narcissa asked. "Hmm? Yes, it's Y/n's brother." Lucius answered. "Oh! The triplet?" Narcissa asked. "You knew?" Draco asked. "I know plenty about your fiancee Draco, I have tea with her every Wednesday. You should join us one day, you might learn something new." Narcissa said. "Oh he knows plenty about Y/n. Interests, hobbies, career choices." Marie said. "Career choices?" Narcissa and Lucius asked. "Y/n would like to be an a Magizoologist." Draco said making you raise a brow. "A Magizoologist? Like uhm... What's that man's name, we've met him six or seven times?" Lucius asked Narcissa. "Newt Scamander?" She asked. "That's the one." He nodded. "Wait wait wait. You've met the Newt Scamander?" You asked. "He comes to the Christmas party every year." Draco said. "How-- what!?" You gaped. Draco smiled at your bewilderment. "So you wish to study magical creatures?" Narcissa asked. "Yes... I know it's crazy--" "It's not crazy dear, it's fascinating. When did you realize you wanted to study them?" Narcissa asked. "after I saved your son from a hippogriff." You said making Draco nearly choke on his drink. "What?" Lucius asked. "In our third year we were given a new course of magical creatures. Potter ended up getting along quite nicely in the course. Draco... Not so much." You teased. "He charged up to the damn thing and it nearly attacked him until I intervened." You said. Draco looked at you. "That... That was you." He remembered. "Yes I was usually put in the middle with your rivalry with Potter." You said to him. He frowned. "You... Were?" He asked. "Yes. The hippogriff was just one of many occasions. There was the sink explosion that occured after you pissed off George, the argument over the goblet of fire where Ron got heated and accidentally elbowed me in the nose after you insulted him, me getting in trouble after taking the blame for something you did by the headmaster from Durmstrang, and my least favorite-- the mandrake incident." You listed. "....I didn't realize I caused that much trouble." He said. "you gave Fred and George a run for their money." You admitted. "I'm genuinely sorry Y/n." He said. "I resented you for a very long time but it no longer bothers me." You shrugged. "...I do remember one incident with a creature in our fourth year." Draco recalled. Lucius rose a brow. "Oh yes the" "Dragon." Marie, you and Draco all recalled. "Dragon?!" Narcissa gaped. "Yes. In the tournament there was a challenge having to do with a dragon. Cedric nearly died to the damn thing." Draco began to explain. "There was this scholarship like program that I was a part of where I worked close with Charlie Weasley and Hagrid. So as my training started at the beginning of the year, I basically had to raise the dragons in the tournament." You explained. "She runs down there and calms it in seconds." Draco said making Lucius raise a brow. "Really?" He asked. "I mean... Keeping Milk grass in hand while petting a dragon comes in handy..." You shrugged. "Milk what?" Narcissa asked. "It's a grass that grows in the wizarding world-- It uh its smell is very potent, smells sweet but dragons love the stuff. It's the best way to keep them calm." You said, seeming more interested as you answered. You noticed everyone looking at you. "Sorry... I just... Uhm." You shifted. "You know, I bet Newt wouldn't mind speaking with you about career possibilities." Lucius said. You perked up as if you were a dog. "....Are you... Are you serious!?" You asked. "Consider it done" Lucius said. You stared at the table in shock. "Excuse my dear sister, her mind is now fried." Marie teased. "What about you dear, do you work?" Narcissa asked. "I'm a journalist." She said. "Oh goodness... Tell me you aren't like that plague of a woman, Rita Skeeter." Lucius said. Marie grimaced. "Absolutely not. I'd sooner shoot myself in the foot than stoop to that woman's level." Marie chuckled. "Good." Lucius said relieved. "what is it you write?" Narcissa asked. "I write travel entries." She said. "You travel?" Draco asked. You finally blinked away the disbelief. "She uhm." You cleared your throat. "She travels with her husband." You said. "So your husband and you travel?" Lucius asked. "He's a soldier." She said. "Oh. I take it he knows you're here?" Draco asked. "Yes, though he's usually out doing something... Dangerous." She admitted. "Sweet as can be though." You said. "God yes." Marie nodded. "How did you all manage to be in reliable marriages if your father is... Well your father." Draco asked. "Mm. Well when you're a noble you go to many parties. You meet people, you befriend them. We set up a system you see." Marie began. "We would basically befriend the noble boys and ask them politely to reject us so we could get to the one we actually would be okay marrying." Marie explained. "Or in Y/n's case, try to break them... And succeed." Marie added making Draco laugh. "She's spirited." Draco said with a smile looking over at you. You smiled in return, looking at him with love. Lucius noticed and smiled. "You're all excused." Lucius said. You walked down the hallways to your room.

You stretched before going to the bathroom. Draco got changed and read a book while waiting for you. You came out a few moments later in a towel making him glance up before returning to the book. Then he realized... He looked back up and you were changing into your usual night clothes. Christ you were gorgeous. "Draco, I can feel your staring." You said grabbing a shirt. ".... You're fucking beautiful." He gaped. You nearly turned around but your breasts being exposed made you turn back. "What the hell brought on the compliment?" You asked. "You. Literally looking like that." He said. "I always look like this?" You said confused. "Yes but you're beautiful-- Am I not supposed to compliment you when you look stunning?" He asked. You laughed sliding on the shirt and turning to him. "I think the day we get married you might lose your mind then." You said. "Mmm.." he looked at you and shook his head. "You were about to say something, what was it?" You asked laying down next to him. "It was nothing." Draco said. "what was it?" You asked. He shook his head. "I'm not entirely sure you'd want to hear it." He said. "Say it." You said with an eye roll. "Dracoooo--" "I'd absolutely ravage you on our wedding night dear, do not push it." He said in your ear making you turn crimson. He returned to his book as you stared off. "Y/n? Did I break you?" He asked. "Little bit." You squeaked out. He snorted and you made a noise almost reminiscent of a deflating balloon. He laughed and closed his book. "Have you not thought about this?" He asked. "What? Sleeping with you?" You asked. "Yes." He nodded. "I...." You swallowed you words down looking at him. "Uhm... Maybe a little too much." You said before looking away. "Really?" He asked. "Yes! Okay, maybe I have! A few... Dozen times, but at least I don't make comments like that!" You said making him laugh harder. "I didn't make you uncomfortable did I?" He asked. "No! No I just-- Gah, you're absolutely frustrating sometimes!" You groaned. "What? Had your impure thought of the day?" He teased. You scoffed. "I do not have an 'impure thought of the day'. I am perfectly capable of making you just as squeamish as you've made me!" You said defiantly. "Oh? Is that so? Well let's hear it then." He said. "What!?" You asked. "Let's hear you say something. Come on." He teased. "Draco--" "What impure thought has crossed your mind that could possibly make me this ridiculous?" He asked. You rolled your eyes. "And silence has filled you yet again dear, I'm beginning to notice a pattern of--" "If you don't stop with this talk, I will find some very creative and useful ways to make you shut it." You said in his ear. A chill shot down his spine as you took your book off your nightstand and read with him staring at you. "Oh what now!?" You asked. "You know, you still owe me from earlier." Draco said. "What?" You asked. "In the garden. When I kissed you." He reminded. You looked over at him. He was smiling in a way you hadn't seen before, all of his attention was solely focused on you. Your heart seemed to pound before you got up. "What are you doing?" he asked. "Getting some water." You said walking out. You closed the door and walked to Marie's room. "Marie? Can I come in?" You asked. "Yes dearie!" She said. You closed the door and she rose a brow. "You look like you've recovered from heat stroke, are you alright?" She asked.

"can I ask you a question?" You asked. "Yes?" She said confused. "When did you know you were ready to..." You paused. "Get married? Well I didn't have much of a choice--" "N-no... That you were ready to... Do it." You asked. "It? What is it?" Marie asked. You seemed to shift in place before she realized. "Ooohhh you mean sex!" She said. "SHHH! KEEP IT DOWN!" you said in a whisper shouting voice. "What? Afraid God will hear you?" Marie asked flatly. You sighed. "Why are you asking that though-- ohmygod do you think that you're going to?" She asked. "Well... I mean--" "I say go for it." Marie said. "Wha-- but how did you know?" You asked. "that I was ready?" Marie asked. "Yes!" You groaned. "because I trusted him. And I loved him." Marie said. "...You didn't feel it?" You asked. "I mean, yes it did involve me trusting myself to know that I was ready too." She said. "...Do you think you're ready?" Marie asked. You immediately thought of those ridiculously attractive grey eyes. "...I.. I am." You nodded. "Well... Then congratulations?" She asked. You got up. "Where are you going?" She asked. "Sleep." You said before leaving. You walked to your room and closed the door. "That must've been one big glass of water." Draco teased. You jumped at his voice and he rose a brow. "Darling are you alright--" "Did you mean what you said?" You asked. "what?" He asked. "Earlier, did you mean what you said?" You asked. "About...?" Draco said. "Draco, do you want to actually sleep with me?" You asked. "Is that an offer?" He asked sarcastically. "YES!" You said. "....Wait seriously?" He asked. "Welcome to the wonders of a fiancée, who will usually sleep with you if you ask--" he closed the door behind you, kissing you passionately. You halted all means of speech as you locked the door.

He pulled away. "Are you sure about this? Do you really--" "Please." You whispered. He kissed your neck, kissing that one spot that made you almost sink into him. "S-someone studied." You said with a laugh. He kissed you again, both of his hands on your body. You melted into his grasp almost shivering at his touch. "Tell me you want this and I'll keep going Y/n." Draco told you. "I want this Draco." You assured. He nodded, getting up and lifting you up. "What are--" "Bed." He said before kissing you passionately. You ran your fingers through his hair, as he sat you on the edge of the bed removing your shirt after pulling off his own his own. "What?" You asked. He chuckled and kissed you again. You held his face and he held you close as you both leaned back onto the bed. He kissed down your body, each kiss sweeter than the last. Your breath hitched as Draco pulled off your pj bottoms. He pulled off your underwear, his lips kissing your inner thigh making you almost shiver at the contact. His tongue moved and you gripped the sheets at the contact. "D-draco-- A-ah!" You gasped. He ran his fingers over your arms lightly before holding your hand as you held back a few moans. He pulled back before kissing you. "Draco... I need you." You whispered as he rested his forehead on yours. He kissed your forehead before inserting himself in you. You arched your back and gasped as he moved slowly. It hurt at first and he could tell, cupping your cheek with a hand. You slowed your breathing as the pain quickly went away. "You.. you can move." You whispered. As he quickened the pace as he ran his fingers over your arms and held your hands in his as you moaned. "Dr-Draco oh god--" you breathed. He kissed you, holding you close before both of you came.

He collapsed next to you looking at you. "So is this a regular thing now orrr--" "Oh bite your tongue." You said with a laugh. He kissed you and you smiled, resting your forehead on his. "I love you Y/n." He said. "I love you too Draco." You said softly. Sleep was easy to you that night, no nightmares bombarding your inner thoughts. You woke up to the morning light hitting your eyes. You blinked a few times and leaned up. Draco inhaled sharply before doing the same. "Morning." You said with a smile. "Morning." He said before kissing you. You let your feet touch the floor before immediately falling. Damn your sore legs, Marie couldn't have added that that might be a problem? Draco immediately got up and helped you up. "Uhm... Are you alright?" He asked as your legs shook. "You did this you little shit." You said. He resisted a snort and lifted you up. "Wha-- where are we going!?" You asked. "Bath, your muscles are sore Love." He said. "And how, pray tell, do you know this?" He asked. "I've asked some... Unsavory questions to friends who might've had sex in school?" He said. "You could just say you aren't a virgin, I mean who's that good their first time?" You said with a laugh as you slowly got into the tub. "Actually that was my first time." He said. "There is no way that's true." You said. Draco chuckled and turned on the hot water. "Despite what you believe, it's the truth." Draco said. "....What kind of questions did you ask these friends of yours!?" You realized making him snort.

You took a bath, your muscles, thankfully relaxing and allowing you to stand again. Draco left some clothes for you on the counter next to the sink. You put them on noticing a scar on your back and making you shake your head. You walked out and Draco was standing on the terrace of the room. You smiled and walked out, him wrapping an arm around you. "This is a beautiful day." Draco said. "If you start getting sappy I'm going to leave." You joked. He chuckled and kissed your face. You smiled and heard a knock on the door. "Did we ever unlock the door?" You asked. "No, I don't think we did." He answered. You opened the door and Marie was holding a cup of tea. "Morning you two." She said handing you the cup. "Mind if I whisk her away for a bit?" Marie asked Draco. "Not at all, have fun dear." He said before giving you a quick kiss and walking past you.

"Soooo." She said as you walked. You sipped the tea. "How was last night?" She asked making you cough it up. She chuckled. You coughed a few more times and finally answered. "Christ, give me a warning!" You said. "Well I think that was plenty of an answer." She said with a devious laugh. "So did you... Y'know?" She asked. "Marie!" You whined. "You roped me into this, remember that!" She said. "...It was nice." You finally said. "Oh so you did--" "YES OKAY, NOW CAN WE DROP IT!?" you begged. "Alright alright! So, read anything new lately?" She asked. "Well--" "Y/n, would you mind coming with me?" Lucius asked. You turned around. "Is everyone going to be asking me this today?" You asked. Marie took your cup and you rose a brow. "Go, I'll be out here." She said with a smile. You shrugged, walking with Lucius. "Where are we going?" You asked. "Now I'm sure you know the answer to this." Lucius said with a laugh. "Your study. Right! Right." You nodded making him chuckle you walked in and froze to a middle aged man in a blue jacket with a suit case.

"Merlin's beard... Do not tell me that's--" "Happy early birthday, this is Mr. Newt Scamander." Lucius said. "Gah.... I... I..." Your mind seemed to just freeze. "Is she having a stroke-- is she okay?" Newt worried. "No! No! I'm okay I just... Wow you're standing here in front of-- Niffler!?" You said making him raise a bow. You slipped past him, scooping up the magical creature and tickling it to get it to empty its pouch. Pens and coins toppled out and you chuckled. "Come on, there's more than that." You said before a pen dropped to the floor. Newt rose a brow, as you handed him the niffler. "He's a little devil this one, thank you." He said putting him in the suitcase. "So I suspect you know why I'm here?" Newt asked. "Uh... I apologize, I actually don't." You said. "Oh. Well I'm here to train you." He said. "Sorry what?" You asked. "I am here to take you on as an apprentice where you will study animals and eventually go into the field you'd like." He further explained. "I see... Wow.. uhm.. thank you Lucius." You said. "No need, he's heard of you." Lucius said. "Wait what-- seriously!?" You gaped. "It's not every day you hear of a student taming a dragon." Newt said. "I... I am rendered speechless I am so sorry." You said. "I'm quite anxious around people too, don't worry. Why don't you change into some pants and we'll begin work in the....?" He looked over to Lucius. "...Patio is fine." Lucius said. "Patio!" Newt nodded.

You basically sprinted for your room, changing as quickly as possible when Draco walked in. "Woah there, careful, what's going on?" Draco asked. "Newt Scamander is taking me on as an apprentice!" You said as you slid on pants. "Darling that's fantastic!" Draco said with a smile. "We're beginning work now, I am way too excited Merlin’s beard!" You said putting on a shirt. "Good luck!" He said. You nodded and ran out the door. He chuckled to himself and grabbed a book before feeling a hand on his shoulder he turned around and you kissed him before running off. "Love you!" You said. "Love you too!" He laughed.

You ran outside, dressing almost like Hermione when you two would hang out. Actually you were 95% sure this shirt was Hermoine’s. "Alright let's do this!" You said excitedly. He nodded and opened the suitcase before climbing into it. You stared at it for a minute before his hand popped out motioning for you to go down. You climbed down, seeing a small shack. "Woah... How come you never included this in your book?" You asked. "I didn't want to include it because my book ended up amongst the muggles as well." Newt said. "Ah." You nodded. "Hand me the bucket next to you dear." He said. You picked it up and he hacked a piece of meat into pieces. You noticed a picture near the door and you rose a brow. "Who's that?" You asked. "Hmm? Oh... An old friend." He said. You nodded and looked around at the tables, with scattered work supplies. "Alright. Let us begin." He said opening the wooden door. You walked through it and were met with various magical creatures, making you gape. "Wow." Was all you could muster out. He walked to a large creature, a glowing forehead. "Is this an Erumpent?" You asked. "Hmm? Yes, be careful the--" "Venom makes people explode." You said stepping back. He nodded. "You know a lot about this already." He noticed. "I read your book and worked with Charlie Weasley." You said looking at the mooncalves. He handed you pellets and you fed them with a smile. "Do you mind holding the niffler while I handle the Occamies?" He asked. You nodded and he handed you the small little guy, it staring up at you. You smiled and pet it, it nuzzling into your hand. "He seems to like you." Newt noticed. "Hmm?" You asked. "the Niffler, it likes you." Newt said. "Oh... He's a cute little guy." You said with a smile. You handed him back and Newt took him. "Every day you will be given an interaction with a new magical creature. Sometimes it will be in the case, other times it will not be." Newt explained. You nodded. "If you happen upon a creature that is to be in this case that isn't here please let me know or handle it with caution before bringing it to the case." He warned. "It happens often?" You asked. "No amount of locks can stop a Niffler." Newt said looking at him. You noticed a little green figure holding onto his jacket. "Hi there." You said softly. It retreated behind his coat's collar. "Pickett she's going to be here a while, you need to make friends." He said. Pickett slowly peaked his head out and you smiled. "A bowtruckle? Aren't they introverted?" You asked. "Yes they are, I must ask: were you a hufflepuff?" He asked. "Yes, how'd you know?" You asked. "I am too." He said pointing to the scarf on a rack. "you would think Hagrid would mention this." You laughed. He smiled and put down the now empty bucket. "Alright. Time for your first interaction. The Demiguise. What do you know about it?" He asked. "They can turn invisible and they're herbivores, aren't they?" You asked. "Yes." Newt nodded. He allowed one to climb up his arm before motioning for it to go to you. It climbed back to the floor, it climbing up your side like a sloth. You smiled. "Hi there." You said softly. It seemed to almost hug you. "did you name any of the creatures besides Pickett?" You asked. "Oh yes. All of them have names... Except for the Niffler that was near you earlier, he's a younger one." Newt said. "You should name him Bandit. It makes sense because of the--" "Stealing, how clever." Newt nodded. "What do you think, hmm?" He asked the Niffler. It seemed to have a positive response to the name. "Bandit." He nodded. "This is such a calm creature... Why would anyone ever want to hurt it?" You asked. "to make invisibility cloaks." Newt said with a frown. "Some times I think the biggest monsters are people." You muttered. "I share that sentiment." He agreed. You heard a knock and rose a brow. Newt slipped past you. "What's the Demiguise's name?" You asked. "Dougal." He answered before disappearing into the room. You smiled, looking at Dougal. "You're so soft... You almost remind me of a sloth." You muttered. Newt popped his head back out. "Dinner is ready." Newt said. "Wait, it's been that long?" You asked. Newt nodded and the Demiguise climbed down. You both walked out and you rose a brow. "Uh... Was the Niffler supposed to follow?" You asked as you noticed the Niffler on the patio table. "Bandit. No." Newt warned. It scurried off. "That's not good." You muttered before both of you booked it. You walked the hallway to the bedroom and frowned. "Y/n? Did Marie tell you that dinner was served or--" "Yes I'm coming I just.... Wait. Where's the box?" You asked. "What?" Draco asked. "The thimble box-- he was here-- Bandit!" You called. Draco rose a brow as you walked into your bedroom. You stopped in the doorway looking around. "What are you looking for?" Draco asked. "The niffler-- FOUND IT! NEWT!" you called. Newt sprinted down the hall to find it on your dresser trying to hold still. You sprinted to it catching it before it could run off. You tickled it and a bunch of shiny things hit the floor. "Bandit, come on... We know there's more." You said before a couple of other things hit the floor. "He's good." You said giving Bandit back. Draco rose a brow as you all walked to the dining room. "So... Why was there a Niffler in our room?" Draco asked. "A lock can't stop a Niffler." Newt said, referring to what he said to you earlier. "Okayy?" Draco said confused. "I'm going to put him back in the case, tell your father please." Newt said.

You sat at the table and Draco smiled looking at you. "Excited for your 19th birthday?" Marie asked. " I guess." You shrugged. "come on, you'll probably get to see Thomas!" She said. You smiled to yourself as Newt took a seat. "Your birthday is tomorrow?" He asked. "Yep." You shrugged. "not a fan?" Newt asked. "if you knew my father you'd get it." You shrugged. "Maybe I do, what's his name?" Newt asked. "Henry L/n." You shrugged. Newt's face dropped. "You know him?" Marie asked. "Very cruel hearted. Very angry." He said. "Yes, that sums him up perfectly." You said. " His wife was always kind, Dalia correct?" He asked. "Yes. She passed ten years ago." Marie said. "Oh... I'm sorry." Newt said. "It's alright. Mother was wonderful." You said. Narcissa noticed your eyes, them seeming to glaze over. "So, what about your brother, what's he like?" Lucius asked, hoping to catch your attention. You stayed silent though, deep in thought. "Y/n?" Draco asked softly. You snapped out of your fog. "Sorry, what was your question?" You asked. "your brother Thomas, what's he like?" Lucius asked. "Think of me, but male." You said. "Oh boy." Draco said making Marie chuckle. You rolled your eyes. " When is the engagement party?" You asked. "Two weeks." Narcissa said. "Who would you like to invite?" Lucius asked. "Well... Harry potter is a dear friend. And the Weasley's are like family. So is Hermione..." You said. "hmm. I'll invite them then."Lucius nodded. "You got along with Ron?" Draco asked. "Sometimes. He did get a little annoying fourth year though." You said. "Most of the time I've heard you talking about the Weasley's it was talking about Fred and George." Marie said. "They're like my brothers, Thomas loves them." You admitted. "Molly did always love you, as did Arthur." Marie nodded. "Did they know about... Your father?" Narcissa asked. "Yes. Y/n would often hide there to escape." Marie said. You took a long sip of water. "I see. So you all were really close."

"NO I DON'T WANT TO GO!" You could hear your screams in your mind making you swallow your water.

"LET GO OF ME!" you remembered, making you clear your throat.

You let out a small shaking breath which Draco heard. "May we be excused?" He asked looking at you. Lucius noticed the look in your eyes and nodded. Draco took your hand, helping you out of your seat before leaving the adults to speak. "Henry hurt that girl didn't he?" Newt asked. "Yes. According to Draco there's scars." Lucius nodded. "All of us have them.. except for the males." Marie said. "What?" Narcissa asked. "Father wanted sons. He wasn't a fan of a largely female household." Marie said. "I will admit though, Y/n usually took the beatings the worst though. She usually took them for the triplets." Marie explained. "triplets?" Lucius asked. "Yes. There was Elizabeth, the eldest, Joanna the second eldest, me, Y/n then the triplets, Susan, Lila and Elise." Marie said. "I see... Then three sons, correct?" Lucius asked. "Yes." She nodded. "Y/n herself is a triplet isn't she?" Narcissa asked. "Yes. Charles, Thomas and her are triplets. Joanna and Phillip are twins." Marie said. "Are multiple children such as twins common amongst your family?" Lucius asked. "Just in our home. Not sure why." She shrugged. "All the more to love though!" She chuckled. "Do you have any children?" Narcissa asked. "No, I'm afraid I'm incapable." Marie said. "Goodness. I'm so sorry." Narcissa said. "It's alright. My husband and I plan on adopting after the next move." She said. "Best of luck to you." Newt said. "thank you." She nodded.

You paced. "Why does my anxiety have to plague me at the dinner table, why?" You groaned. "Y/n, you're fine, father understands." Draco said softly. "I want to be normal. Why can't I be normal!?" You asked. "Because you're extraordinary." Draco said. "...Your positivity is both reassuring and annoying." You sighed before hugging him. He held you close, kissing your head. "I really do wish you'd be a bit more excited over your birthday though." Draco said. "What, is something happening that day?" You asked. "Darling you act like you've never actually..." He looked at you. "You've never celebrated a birthday have you?" Draco asked. "I have. With the Weasley's." You muttered. "Well this time you have a loving fiancée and your personal hero to keep you company." Draco said. You smiled. "Okay okay... I guess it's not... So bad but no cake, I'm actually not a fan of cake." You said. "Ah. Noted. Let's go to bed... After we put back what that Niffler thing tried to take." Draco said with a laugh.

You woke up in the middle of the night, not daring to wake Draco. You sat on the terrace, staring at the stars. You noticed the clock on the dresser hit twelve and you sighed. "Happy birthday to me" you murmured. You noticed Newt with a creature walking through the night and smiled. Maybe just maybe this birthday wouldn't be so bad.

You finally went back to bed and slept soundly for the rest of the night. Although the next morning you woke up with Draco carrying you breakfast. "Morning dear." He said. "What the-- what's this?" You asked. "Breakfast-- don't worry I didn't cook it." He assured. You laughed. "Thank you." You said kissing him. You both ate and laughed at stupid jokes before getting dressed. "I should go see if Newt needs anything before doing anything." You said. "Actually he's expecting you elsewhere." Draco said. "What do you have planned?" You asked. "You will see." Draco said with a smile. You rolled your eyes as you followed Draco. "I swear, I'm going to assume you've held the damn girl captive Marie with the way you're treating this!" You heard a voice say. "Is that--" "Thomas, relax the boy she's engaged to loves her and cares for her." Marie said. You opened the door and your eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. Draco smiled as Thomas hugged you. "It's been too long!" He said. "You've otherwise gotten taller or I'm getting shorter." Thomas said making you laugh. "I've missed you! How's Delilah?" You asked. "Oh, she's lovely, she says hello she'll be here for the wedding along with the children." Thomas said. He noticed Draco and rose a brow. "Hello." Draco greeted. Thomas shook his hand before you noticed a glint. "Oh no." You sighed. "What's with you?" Thomas asked. "I think--" "WHAT IN THE BLAZES IS THAT!?" Narcissa screamed making Draco jump. You facepalmed. "Newt really needs a new locking device." You sighed before running out. You looked for the Demiguise, knowing damn well that Dougal probably turned invisible when Narcissa was frightened. "Dougal. Sweetie, I'm here." You said softly, looking for the slight disfigurement of it's invisibility. Finally you noticed it and picked it up. Dougal dropped the invisibility and you kissed it's head. "I'm here little guy. Let's find Newt okay?" You said. You walked with Dougal in your arms leaving Draco and Thomas both gaping at your calmness to the strange creature wrapped around you. "Newt! I found Dougal." You said. "What-- Oh goodness he must've slipped past." Newt said. You gave Dougal to Newt. "Oh Y/n, I'm actually glad you're here I have something for you." He said. You rose a brow as he pulled out Bandit. "Uh..." You paused. "He's yours. He has literally been found in your room four times this morning." Newt said. "How did I not wake up?" You asked. "No clue. Your fiancée screamed at one point after he saw him sleeping on your head." Newt said. "I'll keep him safe, don't worry." You said with a smile. "Hi Pickett." You greeted the small bowtruckle on Newt's coat. It peaked out and you smiled. "Morning-- Oh boy the small visitor is back." Draco said looking at the Niffler. "He's now your fiancée's, and yes they can be trained." Newt said. "Heard that you screamed this morning?" You asked Draco as Bandit seemed to perch on your shoulder. "Oh goodness did he! He also fell off the bed." Marie laughed. "Okay, not everyone wakes up and expects to see that next to them!" Draco said. "Oh yes. Bandit is sooo terrifying." You laughed. Thomas smiled and Draco shook his head. "He just likes shiny stuff but I think I can keep him from going ballistic over everything here." You said with a smile. The Niffler nuzzled into your touch making you smile. "Oh, father also has something for you." Draco said. "What? But he's already done so much?" You said confused. "Yes well, you are quickly becoming a favorite around here." Draco said kissing your head. You smiled and put the Niffler on Draco's shoulder. "Uhhh--" "He stays with us now, you'll have to be aquatinted eventually love." You said. Draco nodded and looked at the creature as you walked to the study. "Hello?" He said to him. Bandit cocked his head to the side confused by this new person.

You knocked on the door. "Come in." Lucius said. You walked in and he nodded. "Draco said you needed me." You said. He pushed a box forward making you raise a brow. "Open it." He said. You nodded and opened the box to see a Malfoy family ring resting in it. You looked at him and then the box. "This is a family ring." You said. "Yes. We wear these proudly and you are apart of our family now Y/n." He said. You smiled and slid it on your finger. "Thank you." You said. "You're wel--" you hugged Lucius catching him off guard. He slowly hugged you back and you pulled away. "Thank you. For everything." You said softly. "You're very welcome Y/n." He said. You heard Draco running. "Slow down! If he knows you're chasing him he'll just get crafty with hiding!" Newt warned. You facepalmed and walked out to find Bandit crawling up your pants leg. "He went to find Y/n!" Thomas said. "Oh now that's just precious." Marie said. You smiled, petting the creature before Thomas noticed the ring. "that's a family ring." He said. "Mmhmm." You nodded looking at him. "You're fitting in nicely here..." Thomas said. "You're going all brother on me again Thomas, I'm safe here I promise." You said softly. "As long as they are keeping father away from you." Thomas said. "They are Tommy." Marie said.

You all sat around in the garden. "how is Phillip?" You asked, using a coin to keep Bandit at bay. " Violet is pregnant." Thomas said. "Finally!" Marie said. "first child... How mad has he gone?" You asked. "Baby proofing EVERYTHING." Thomas laughed. Draco smiled as he sat next to you. "Tell me, have you been treating my sister well?" Thomas asked. "Yes Thomas. He has" you said with an eye roll. "I have. I love your sister." He said looking at you. "If you hurt her, mental or physical just know there's eight siblings who can and will kill you." He threatened. Draco looked at you. "If I ever did any of that I'd kill myself." Draco said. Thomas rose a brow. "... Good answer." Thomas said. "So... Marie tells me you two have gotten close" Thomas said. "Yes Thomas. Come on quit interrogating them--" "How close are we talkin' here?" He asked looking at Draco, practically searing holes into him. "...Uhm.." Draco looked really uncomfortable. "Thomas." You sighed. "I love her. Truly." Draco said. "Yes, tell me a fun fact about knowing my sister then. When was the first time you noticed her?" Thomas asked. Bandit chased the coin in a small circle. "The Yule ball in our fourth year." He admitted making all movement from you stop. "What?" You asked. "The Yule ball. You went with Fred because neither of you had dates, he was waiting by the steps, when you came down in a black dress." Draco said. "Y... You actually noticed?" You gaped. "how could I not? You were beautiful." Draco said with a smile. You continued to play with the coin and Bandit continued playing. "... I'll trust you. For now. One slip up though and I'm putting your corpse in a dumpster." Thomas said. Draco cleared his throat. "I didn't think you knew I existed." You admitted. "I knew. I noticed you in our second year when during Christmas you sat with me and said Merry Christmas." He reminded. "... No offense darling. But why'd you act like such an ass then?" You asked. "Because I didn't handle my feelings well. I was a child who took house wars WAY too seriously." Draco reminded. "Truth was I wanted to know you but I just didn't voice it properly." He admitted. "So. How did you not recognize that I was in the middle of that petty rivalry?" You asked. "I knew. And for the most part I tried to keep you out of it. I took a lot more hits than you remember." Draco said. "How so?" Thomas asked. "The fight in the bathroom. It started because it was about you. I asked Blaise, who by the way was the reason for a lot of the 'wrong place, wrong time' crap, to keep you out of it. He called me a Blood traitor, next thing I knew I punched him." Draco explained. Then it REALLY registered. All of the times you were in the center of crap, Blaise was the one who put you there. He always would slip it into your mind before hand. "I did care. But again, in school I was an ass who didn't want to admit that." Draco said. You kissed him and he smiled. "What was that for?" Draco asked. "Always looking out for me." You said with a smile. Thomas gagged and Marie rolled her eyes, dragging him off as she got up. "Why am I being dragged!?" Thomas asked. "Let's leave them alone for a bit!" Marie said shoving him inside.

You laughed and Bandit crawled into your lap, tired from chasing the coin. " Looks like you tired him out." Draco said. "Yep. I did that on purpose." You said with a smile. Draco pulled out a small box and you blinked. "Draco, you didn't need to get me anything." You said. "Hmm. But I did." He said. You opened it and smiled. "It's a locket... Draco it's beautiful." You said softly. Draco kissed you and you smiled. "Happy birthday darling." Draco said softly.

You ended up having fun for the most part, Draco enjoying seeing you with a smile. You'd have a few spaced out moments but overall you enjoyed the day. "So how's taking care of Bandit?" Newt asked. "I've figured out a way to tire him out and he now sleeps in my sock drawer." You said making Lucius raise a brow. "Have you enjoyed your birthday dear?" Narcissa asked. "For the first time I can actually say yes." You said with a smile. "I'm glad. We do enjoy seeing you happy here Y/n, you deserve to be." She said. "Joanna sent me a letter, she says happy birthday you two." Marie said sitting down. "How are the triplets?" You asked. "They're all taking up some interests." Marie said. "Elise's is literature isn't it?" You asked. "Yes, who would've thought that she picked up a trait from the sibling who impacted her the most?" Marie asked sarcastically. "Do the triplets not live with your father?" Draco asked. "No, Joanna took them after she moved." Thomas answered. "Thank goodness." Lucius nodded. "How's Jacob?" You asked making Newt nearly choke. "Newt, are you alright?" You asked. "Yes. Yes I'm fine." He nodded. Wrong Jacob, Newt. "He's well." Marie nodded. "Does your sister have children?" Lucius asked. "No, she's unable sir." Marie answered. "Is this a common thing amongst the women?" Narcissa asked. "Yes. But we've already made sure that Y/n is perfectly able to have children." Marie said. Draco smiled to himself thinking of the idea of you being a mother. "What is your other brother like?" Lucius asked Thomas. "Hmm? Oh Phillip? He's stern but at the end of the day would protect us from whatever would try to hurt us. He was father's favorite." Thomas answered. "Will you be staying with us?" Lucius asked. "if you don't mind." Thomas said. "Not at all. Newt did you sleep well last night in the cabin?" Lucius asked. "Yes, thank you. You rose a brow. "We have a cabin?" You asked. "Yes, more like a cottage really." Narcissa answered before a knock was heard. Lucius walked out and you took a sip of water. "I'm glad today has been great dear, it's always nice to see you with a smile." Narcissa said. "There she is!" A familiar female voice said making you stand up. "Molly!" You said with a smile. She hugged you as did the twins. "I invited them for dinner. After all this day should be celebrated with your family." Lucius said nodding to you. You smiled as Fred and George sat on your left. "Wait then that means--" "This place is huge." Ron gaped. "Ron!" Hermione and Ginny both hushed. "Well I mean he's not wrong." Harry said. Draco looked at Lucius with a "you couldn't have told me sooner!?" Look. "Harry!" You said with a smile. "Y/n! How's being engaged-- Christ we're getting old." He grimaced as he realized how adult that sounded. You laughed and Ginny hugged you. "It's been great actually, this is actually feels like home now." You answered making Lucius smile. "We're glad you're away from Henry." Arthur said sitting down. "Thomas, happy birthday to you too." Molly said. "Thank you Molly." he said with a smile. "How are all of you?" You asked. "Welllll..." Molly looked at Ginny. "Harry and I are engaged." Ginny said making you gasp. "Blazes-- congratulations!" You said. "So is Ron and Hermione." Harry said. You laughed. "You sure you can put up him that long?" You asked her making Hermione snort. "I'm not deaf!" Ron said. "We know." Everyone said in unison. You smiled before noticing something behind Newt. "Crap." You muttered. Draco noticed it too and he stood up. "You flank left, I'll go right." He said. Newt rose a brow as both of you cornered the Niffler. Bandit slipped past you though and you both exchanged a "Crap." Look before both of you chased after it. "What in the world?" Molly asked. "I gifted Y/n a niffler this morning. It appears to have waken up from it's nap." Newt said. "Wait, you're Newt Scamander!" Hermione said. "What like our old text book?" Ron asked. "Yes!" She said. "Oh. Hey! I knew that!" Ron said making Fred laugh. There was a loud noise followed by a "GOT HIM!" making Harry almost snort.

But it was the state that Draco returned that made everyone almost die of laughter. He was soaked. Or at least the top half of him was. "....What happened?" Narcissa asked, also trying to contain laughter. "He turned on the bath while I was chasing him." Draco said, dripping. Lucius nearly snorted as you walked out unscathed and the niffler resting on your shoulder. "Sh-shall we adjourn to the day room?" Narcissa asked trying not to laugh. "May I change... Please?" Draco asked. "Mmhmm." Lucius nodded. The second the door closed all of you started laughing. "I swear, Bandit almost seems to be taunting Draco." You laughed. "Right on little man." Fred said as he stood up, looking at the Niffler.

You all sat around, exchanging Hogwarts stories. Some making you laugh as you sat next to Draco (who was now dry.) You were happy, truly so. A smile never disappeared, especially now that it felt like your family was here. Draco even seemed to be civil with Harry, the two of them almost looking back at the past few years with amusement. Newt made sure the Niffler was put up for the rest of the night, noticing a tired expression. You were exhausted from all of the interaction, your head falling onto Draco's shoulder. He stopped talking, looking over at your sleeping face and smiled. "I'll be back to see you off." Draco said before lifting you up and carrying you out. He kissed your head, noticing again that the Niffler managed to get in here again but choosing to ignore the creature as it chose to rest on pillow near your head.

Draco did see them off, thanking them for being there for you. Molly smiled as they walked. "He's become a fine young man." She said. "Indeed." Arthur agreed. "Definitely more bearable than from what he was in school." Harry said. "Seems to really love Y/n." Hermione said. "He seems absolutely smitten." Ginny chuckled. "I'm worried about that." George said. "Why?" Molly asked. "What's Henry going to think?" Fred asked. Arthur nodded knowingly. "I see what you mean. But by this point it's out of his hands." Arthur said. "Hmm? How so?" George asked. "An arrangement like this would require the male's consent. The engagement can't be called off unless Draco chooses to." Arthur shrugged. "Thank God." Fred and George said in unison.

The next few weeks were dedicated to the wedding, dress after dress, flower after flower. Your escape lied with Newt and Draco, studying animals and spending time with Draco. Now the family was here in the manor, your father staying under the same roof making it hard to focus on anything. You wouldn't leave Draco's side, not once. Dinner would be painfully awkward with both of your brothers now drilling holes into Draco. Your sisters would try to get them to stop but your father would be making subtle jabs towards any confidence you may have built. Finally it was a day before the wedding and you were a mess. Stupid rules say that you were to not see Draco until the wedding. "are you excited?" Narcissa asked. "Yes. I just wish I could see him now." You sighed as you took a sip of tea. "I'm just glad it's out of father's hands now." Joanna mumbled. "Me too." You nodded. "I feel like he's lurking around every corner." Marie said with a sigh. "It's like we're always walking on thin ice or something." Elise murmured. "This whole week has stressed Draco out." You said. "Why?" Marie asked. "Why? Well let's see, we've got a man who's straight out of a fucking Lovecraft novel roaming about, we have my brothers mentally killing him in their minds, you have my step mother who lurks like a snake through the halls and the occasional animal getting lose." You said with a sigh as Bandit played with Sophia. "I just want to spend time with Draco. Is that bad?" You asked. "You've been jittery all week, I suppose he's like a comfort to you." Joanna said. "Jittery?" Narcissa asked. "She's been anxious all week. Lot of pacing." Joanna said. "Draco has been doing that all morning." Narcissa chuckled. "Really?" You asked. "Yes, he's been rambling all morning about you, saying he wants to make you happy" Narcissa said. All of the women made audible coos and you chuckled. "I love that man." You sighed. "I just wish I could SEE him. Like why the hell would you separate us?" You grumbled. "Funny, about a month ago you would've begged for this to happen." Narcissa teased. "Har. Har." You laughed dryly. You sighed and noticed a hippogriff through the window. "Shit." You said. "What-- What in Merlin's Beard is that!?" Joanna asked before you got up, rolling up your sleeves. "A hippogriff" you said before walking out.

Draco sighed. He never realized how much of his daily routine now revolved around you until he had to be separated from you. He bit into an apple before looking up at a looming shape to see a hippogriff. "...Fuck." he mumbled looking at it. It seemed to growl, watching his movements. What is it that you did that day that made it calm down before!? "uh... Nice bird... Thing?" He said confused. It got closer before you jumped in front of it. "Eli, eyes on me!" You said. It attempted to look at Draco but you snapped your fingers. "Eyes on me!" You said sternly. "Eli, it's me... Focus. Focus." You said soothingly. "Draco, bow." You instructed. He nodded and bowed to it, the hippogriff reciprocating the sentiment. "Good boy. Let's go find Newt." You said softly. You looked at Draco. "Wanna sneak off with me?" You asked. "Absolutely." Draco nodded. You both walked along side the creature to the patio. Newt now usually worked there but you were met with your father. "Fuck." You mumbled. "Ah. You." He said looking at you. "Father." You said. Eli seemed to not like the presence of him. "Uh oh." You mumbled watching Eli gear up. "Father bow." You said. "Excuse me?" He asked. "Bow! To the creature it will attack if you don't!" You warned. "I will not--" Eli reared up making it jump back until Newt intervened. "Into the case!" He said guiding him into it. He locked the case and sighed. "That thing needs to be put down." Henry said with a hiss. "That thing wouldn't have attacked if you would've listened!" Draco said. "Careful with that mouth boy." He said. "I tried to warn you." You said with a frown before noticing a Demiguise. "Newt how long has your case been unlocked?" You asked. "I'm not sure why?" You asked. "Dougal is in a tree." You said. Newt sighed and walked over to the tree. "These pests are a nuisance." Your father grumbled. "These 'pests' are amazing and if you had half a mind you'd see that!" You snapped. Your father scowled at you and seemed to gear up to hit you before a cane stopped him. "Touch her and the ministry will find out about your deeds Henry." Lucius warned. Henry scoffed. Your sisters came outside to see the commotion along with Narcissa. "You will do no such thing" your father said. "He can, and he will if he has evidence." Joanna said. "Shut your mouth--" "No! We have dealt with this enough Father! We're done!" Marie snapped. "Get out." Lucius said. "If I do, this is off." He threatened. No. No no-- "This is out of your hands Henry. I'm the one that officially initiated the engagement I'd have to be the one to call it off." Draco said, putting a protective arm around you. "Boy, you don't--" "Touch him and I will return nineteen years of favors, GET. OUT." You snapped making everyone surprised. He shook his head. "I am your father--" "You are a monster. There is a difference. I won't tell you again. Leave." You said. He scoffed before calling after your step mother. It ended with a loud slam of the front door making you take a long breath of relief. "It's over!" Joanna gaped. "Are you alright?" Lucius asked. "I am now." You said looking at Draco. He kissed your head and Thomas sighed. "We approve." Phillip finally said. "That's what it took?" You asked. "Yes, you passed, congrats." Thomas said. "...Thank you?"

Ultimately they decided not to do the traditional thing and separate you, you both spending the rest of the time together. However there was a strict "NO SLEEPING IN THE SAME ROOM" thing going on. It ultimately resulted in you sleeping in a room with your sisters. You wanted actual peace though and still snuck out, Draco doing the same. You both looked at the stars until both of you fell asleep. "Where did they go!?" Narcissa asked. "Found them." Lucius said motioning to you asleep against Draco. His arm was wrapped around you and your Niffler was on his lap asleep. "... We're using this against them later right?" Narcissa asked. "Oh most definitely." Lucius nodded.

You were woken up, forced to change into the dress you all decided on before Marie did your hair. "Any last thoughts?" You asked. "Yes. Keep doing what you're doing and you'll be just fine." Joanna said with a smile. You nodded and Marie used the last hair pin. "You're all set." She said. You sucked in a breath and nodded. Narcissa left to get Lucius. "I'm getting married." You realized. "To Draco." Joanna said. "Who loves you." Marie reminded. Lucius opened the door and smiled. "You look beautiful." He said softly. You smiled and took his arm. "Thank you." You nodded. You swallowed down your anxieties. "Any advice?" You asked. "We're all fools in love." He quoted. You rose a brow as your siblings walked out.  "was that... Pride and prejudice?" You asked. "Indeed." He said with a smile. You walked forward to the door outside and your heart pounded. "Are you prepared for what's to come?" Lucius asked. "...No. but when are we ever?" You asked. Lucius nodded and the doors opened.

The air hit you and Draco stood ready, waiting for you to walk out. When you actually did Thomas was pretty sure he was going to pass out. "Holy. Shit." He mumbled. The Reverend eyed him and he cleared his throat stating at you. Lucius walked you to the end with a smile. "Today I've gained a daughter." He said. "Thank you father." You said making his smile wider as he sat next to Narcissa. You looked at Draco and he smiled. You didn't even hear half of whatever the Reverend was saying. You both said your vows, sliding on the silver bands that represented the union. "I now pronounce you husband and wife." He said. Draco kissed you with a smile.

Not a single soul was there with a straight face, all of them smiling. This love was pure and lovely, simple and plain for all to see. The coming years would provide interesting times, Newt's passing being a strange one when his suit case was left to you, as was the little bowtruckle known as Pickett that never left your side. When you had children they learned from what you did, breaking off from tradition as time passed. You sat in the study reading when your youngest daughter walked in. "Yes darling?" Draco asked making you look up. "For a school project I have to tell the story of my family so..." She sat down next to you. "....How did you two meet?" She asked. You and Draco exchanged smiles.

"That's a funny story..."

[boop-le-snoot]

If life gives you melons...

Ship: Loki x F!alt! reader

Rating: Explicit / word count 5,5k

Summary: You've heard about meet-cute, how about meet-ugly? Reader has tattoos and a tongue split. There's this joke that "bisexual alt girls go looking for a girlfriend and end up with sad, tall and skinny white bois" and boy did that hit home. Inspired by this cringy video of Hiddles [youtube link].

During a panel at a comic con, Loki notices reader and they go on a date, reader gets railed: top!Loki, choking, rough sex, unprotected sex, all the good stuff. Open ending, with a bonus of reader and Loki pranking Clint.

x. I usually fancy they/them pronouns for Loki but seeing as it's a smut-shot, I decided to go along with he/him for the sake of simplicity. Loki's at least 6'4 tall and you can fight me on that. Also, I write like a Tony stan - I feel the need to apologize to Loki stans for that. I love you guys! 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

The long line of people appeared to be neverending. Loki was an enhanced, as the government recently had adopted a politically correct term for Earth's non-human inhabitants, but even his enhanced endurance had begun waning due to sheer amount of people wanting a piece of memorabilia signed by The God of Mischief. Loki had gained a considerable amount of fans after doing his part in killing the mad titan Thanos and by extension, saving the world. It turned out, humankind was a sucker for a good redemption arc.

Loki's hands ached where they wrapped around the pen that he'd been using for nearly 4 hours to neatly place his name, written in neat runescript, on various pieces of merchandise that his fans (and wasn't that a strange thing!) presented to him. He used to think that he would have actually succeeded conquering the earth if he had a grasp on how to use social media and his charm; now, he just wanted the torture to end. An involuntary sigh left his mouth when he saw another print of himself in full battle gear being placed in front of him by a reasonably attractive young woman.

"Um, thank you," She stammered, giggling softly, and Loki spared her a painstaking smile, scribbling his name once again. The woman briefly caught his eyes. "Um, you're the reason- the inspiration for me. I became a stripper."

Loki blanked, feeling his eyes widen and blink on their own accord a few times. He wasn't sure if he heard the woman correctly, as the unusual statement made his brain freeze.

Loud snickering from behind the blushing woman interrupted the system error that he was experiencing in his head. It wasn't often that somebody managed to render him speechless. It looked like whoever was in line behind the stripper woman had taken advantage of that. Loki's eyes snapped to the short-haired person, who looked torn between cringing and breaking into embarrassed laughter.

The stripper left without a word, and as Loki picked up the cursed writing instrument once again, the short-haired person smiled at him kindly. "That was a little weird," They snorted, "And thanks, have a nice day Mr. Loki."

"When life gives you melons, you might be dyslexic," Another woman, that appeared to be the short haired person's friend, deadpanned and gave a cynical side-eye to the departing stripper. Loki heard snickering coming from the short-haired person and quietly joined himself. The woman noticed it, winking at him as she collected the newly signed t-shirt. "Bye," She smiled kindly.

It was a split second decision, really. Something about the cheeky way she addressed the situation sparked Loki's interest. "Wait, you forgot something, darling," His baritone called out to the departing woman. She turned around, confused, and hastily grabbed the standard issue photo that he was holding out to her. With a final grateful nod, she smiled and left.

If Loki's smile had returned for the time being, none of his teammates made any remarks on it. Only his brother, Thor, gave a couple of knowing looks to the Asgardian sorcerer.

The woman in question didn't think twice about the photo that she stashed in her backpack along with the signed t-shirt. The Comic-Con had been full of people and the lines were unfairly long. The sheer exhaustion after attending a 3-day long convention had set in and she was eager to simply come home back to her apartment and crash on the nearest soft flat surface. Upon arrival, she did exactly that, flopping down gracelessly on the couch, her backpack landing next to her with a careless thud.

Unloading her trophies was a short time affair: a single white tee with a dozen signatures on it, written in what she hoped was waterproof Sharpie; one mug, shaped like an Iron Man helmet; one poster, showing Spider-Man on a picturesque NYC horizon and a signed photo of one Loki. Strangely enough, she did not remember requesting it - not that she was complaining. Free merch was free merch.

The front side wasn't signed whatsoever. Overcome by curiousity, she turned it around. A phone number was written on the back of it, the handwriting neat and the letters obviously being inked out by a thinner, more sophisticated pen than the one Loki had used for scribbling on the tee. The woman gaped silently, not believing her eyes. Did Loki himself had given her his phone number?

One margarita and a hefty helping of Chinese takeout later, the numbers persisted staring back at her mutely, the neat cursive being almost mocking in its quiet. The woman's smartphone had found a comfortable place right next to the photo, equally mum regarding the unusual situation.

An additional margarita was needed to gather the courage required to actually type out the number in the receiver box. Fruity alcoholic concoction in one hand and phone clutched in the other, the woman's eyes squeezed shut tightly as soon as the dreaded "Hey, got your number today! :)" read delivered. She'd typed and erased the message several times, groaning in embarrassment. How the hell does one approach an alien god?

"Hello! May I ask your name?" The response came after a brief moment - a moment the woman had suffered through by taking too haste sips of her drink, her common since screaming her to not overdo it and wait at least a full minute before replying. Everything felt awkward and misplaced.

In no time, she was sending the screenshots of the conversation to her girl-advice group chat that consisted of her closest friends. Chatting with Loki turned out to be surprisingly easy and he was great at upholding conversation, something that couldn't be said about all those Tinder matches she had had back in the day.

Even if using proper grammar during a text message conversation was something she had to reacquaint herself with, she was glad he wasn't just another boring, shalllow, condescending-ass white boy. Despite the cultural differences and his lack of knowledge of things like pop culture and music - something he said he was working on since New Asgard became a sovereign state on Earth - they bonded over music and tattoos and generally being rebellious against society's standarts.

The invitation to dinner didn't come as a surprise for the woman. She agreed happily, looking forward to continue their conversation outside of the internet - if Loki's part of the chat was anything to go by, not only was he charming, but also quite intelligent. And easy on the the eyes, too. They had traded selfies at some point and the Asgardian didn't look any worse in a hoodie and sweatpants than he did in his battle leathers. Loki had appeared to truly have had integrated into Earth's society.

The night of the date, the continuous text exchange did very little to calm her nerves. Loki texted as much as an overeager teenage boy: every now and then he would double-text and grossly overreact to her sending a simple meme. In fact, he smugly conveyed the fact he'd single-handedly started a meme war between the Avengers and even Steve was forced to participate; something that was, allegedly, out of character for the blonde man.

She didn't mind. Not like she had many friends to have so much fun with. Even if it took her twice the time to do her favourite eyeliner style, it was worth it. She hoped Loki would appreciate the bold, but classy make-up and the dress and shoes combo that accentuated her assets. Her date expressed curiousity about her tattoos and the difference between her preferred style and the humans he spent most time with. She guessed secret agents were not particularly fond of anything that made them memorable so she held out quite the hope for... Showing off some of her tattoos in a more private setting.

In other, simpler words, the woman came in prepared for both a friendly, leisurely stroll and a quality night. Either way, it would be a time well spent.

Loki's shiny, raven hair was impossible to miss as he towered over the rest of the people waiting by the restaurant's entrance. He wore tailored black trousers and a simple cashmere sweater, perfect for the evening's damp, cool air. Tall and lithe, Loki was mouthwateringly handsome.

"Come here often?" She wormed her way through the crowd, causing the man to smirk down at her. Her cheeks flared from the tiny gesture alone.

"Just waiting for a friend," Loki uttered lowly, extending an arm towards the woman, which she gracefully accepted as they made way towards the entrance. "Reservation for Loki," The Asgardian stated to the hostess, who, after a rapid doube-take, led them to a private, secluded area in the back of the restaurant.

Loki shouldered the slightly awkward interaction with grace, paying no mind to the girl. His focus was solely on his date and he was nothing but gallant as he took the woman's purse and held out the chair for her to comfortably sit down. As a prince, he was taught well, she mused.

"Usually I would ask 'what brings you to our little ball of water and dirt?' but I think we can skip that part," The woman stated with a sheepish grin, idly flicking through the menu and curiously eyeing the items that were unfamiliar. The desire to try something new fought with the possibility of accidentally ordering something too far out - like snails or other things that rich people fancied, for some reason.

Loki's greens briefly appeared over the top of his menu, grateful and sparkling. "I think it's best if we do just that," For a second, he looked away, before returning to the menu. "I can think of better things to discuss. I recall you didn't finish telling me about that college friend of yours, who was an anarchist... I'm dying to know..."

The waiter came and went, barely noticed by the pair, as they both poked at something that sounded the most familiar for both of them. Stoically, Loki admitted that Tony Stark did the booking for him and the woman reluctantly acquitted she wasn't very familiar with upscale establishments, being of middle-class background and working a middle-class job.

Interrupting the story she began telling hours ago, the woman took the time to point out the things she was familiar with on the menu and advised Loki to stay away from - like the aforementioned snails, and other things, slimy and salty things that she considered to be 'disgusting but rich people liked it for some reason'. The conversation slowly progressed into Loki telling her the mischief he got up to at the feasts Odin threw. The Asgardian shared the woman's disregard for influential people doing gross things to show off.

The food was good - it was really hard to miss with a traditional Italian lasagna - and seeing Loki shovel an obscene amount of food was an experience, but she didn't comment on it, tactful enough to consider his alien biology might have different dietary requirements that her human one. It was great, really, that she could order dessert and not feel guilty about it.

The gelato melted in her mouth like sweet ecstasy and she moaned with her next bite, only partly aware of how obscene really was the noise.

Loki's hand stuttered on it's way to his mouth. Wide-eyed, he stared at her lips, at her mouth, where her tongue lapped up the small drops of dessert from the spoon. "Why the split tongue?" The Asgardian finally gathered his wits, having had a good look of what he was sure was a trick of the eye at first.

She grinned, acutely aware of the effect that particular body modification had on men. "I like being different. I embrace the weird." She giggled, not at all ashamed, sticking out her tongue and wiggling both parts of it teasingly.

Loki's Adam's apple bobbed; "Weird?" He raised his eyebrow, fighting to maintain his previous cool composure.

She nodded. "Weird," She retorted coyly. "I usually don't divulge the details at least until the third date. Wouldn't want to scare my potential suitors off," The playful wink was the proverbial cherry on top. He was hooked, his eyes darkened, following the plump arch of her lips as she took another spoonful of the treat and savoured it, closing her eyes for a brief moment.

It was pornographic.

"Obviously, Midgardians don't know what's good for them," Loki scoffed in his usual bored monotone, fully aware of how fitful his attempt to conceal his excitement was. He sounded needy even to his own ears.

"And you do?" She pushed away the empty plate, chastely patting her mouth with a napkin. The raised eyebrow and the little smirk spoke volumes.

The grin he wore was hardly anything but feral; he asked for the waiter's assistance by flicking his wrist in an impatient fashion. Once the bill was paid and the woman's cardigan found its rightful place on her shoulders, Loki once again took hold of her arm, this time holding her smaller body against his larger one, taking care to slow down and keep his strides shorter.

She found the coolness of his presence refreshing in the moist, heavy air of the New York city.

"Where to, milady?" Loki asked her, looking down at the woman fondly.

"My place is a block away. Walk me, good sir?" She gave a delightfully easy smile in return.

He nodded, letting her lead the way, allowing himself to get a little bit lost in their shared presence, a little bubble of them in the middle of a busy city. It was as if someone had quickly turned down the volume of the honking cars and noisy pedestrians around them, leaving the soft breeze and the sun slowly descending below the skyscrapers. It felt far too short, partaking in the comfortable silence together, skin tingling under the thin layers of cloth where they were touching.

The sun was trapped in the strands of her hair as she smiled at him from her doorway, worrying her lip between her teeth. It was a bittersweet moment.

"A kiss good night for the good sir?" She asked hopefully, eyes darting between his face and his mouth.

Loki obliged, resting his palm flat on the door frame, towering over the woman as he gently slotted his thin, cool lips against her warm ones. The woman stood on her tippy toes, eager, placing a hand on his chest. The pair melted into the kiss - it had no business being this mind-blowing, brain-freezing for two people that have not met until that very day. The woman didn't refuse when Loki probed with his tongue, requesting entrance to her mouth; she licked into his own with fervor, fisting her hands in the soft fabric of his sweater.

With the hand that was free, Loki pulled the woman flush with himself, feeling the heat of her start a fire of its own inside of him. Her breathing rapid, the gesture only served to tighten her hold on his sweater, until a soft, barely audible moan slipped into his mouth, causing his brain to quickly reassess the situation.

Regretfully, Loki pulled away, clearing his throat. "Perhaps we should take this elsewhere," He meaningfully looked at the array of doors around them.

"I thought you'd never ask," She retorted with a fond eyeroll, tightening the grip on his sweater once more, to pull him inside her apartment and shut the door behind her. The awkward moments were few and in between; neither knew who reached for the other first, mashing their mouths with less grace than before, clutching at the other's arms and hips with hunger.

This time, Loki didn't hold back his own muted groans of satisfaction, shivering when the woman's hands snuck under his sweater and the simple tank top he wore underneath. Blunt nails scraped along his abs.

Step by step, she pushed him further inside her apartment, determined in her small quick strides. There was no mistake of their destination; no mistake in her desire: she was as hungry and as impatient as him. The crease between his eyebrows deepened, long arms extending to unzip the top of her dress to reveal a simple but tasteful black lacy bra covering her breasts. The woman barely noticed the action, stepping out of her dress as soon as it hit the floor.

He admired her. Inches of soft skin covered by intricate ink, some patterns bizarre and complicated, some beautiful in their simplicity. Loki couldn't wait to find out about the meaning behind every one of them, to trace the lines with his tongue and sink his teeth into the heated flesh.

The hands that were holding onto him for dear life tugged on his sweater and he chose to simply vanish it, too preoccupied with looking at the view in front of him. She gasped and her eyes met his: uncanny, magnetic emeralds shone with magic and power and desire.

"Fuck," She more mouthed than said, walking backwards in a trance until her shins hit the bed.

Loki grinned, advancing on the panting woman with the grace of a predator. "Darling?" His tone was innocent; his expression was anything but. His large hand encompassesed the side of her face, thumb running over her bottom lip in a possessive gesture that had her squirming in her place. He loved the way she just melted into his touch.

Their lips met again, slower this time. The kiss was once again graceful and unrushed, allowing them to explore the softness of each other's skin, mapping the arches and valleys with gentle strokes of their palms. The broad expanse of Loki's back was uneven, riddled with scars and blemishes, and she mapped every single one, blunt nails raking down it as she pressed into him, arching into his hands where he held her.

The soft flesh of her ass, barely covered by a scrap of black lace, was shamelessly grabbed - the woman didn't doubt there would be marks left - letting her feel his arousal pressed against her belly, hard and twitching. She didn't resist her desire to ge handsy and palmed it, taking note of the gasp and the twitch coming from the man occupied with the clasp of her bra. In no time, it flew away, forgotten somwhere the very moment Loki's palms took over her breasts, running a careful thumb over each nipple.

"Fuck," She parroted her previous statement, equally breathy and considerably more aroused.

"That's the plan," Loki's chuckle was hoarse.

She huffed, biting her bottom lip before reaching out to swiftly pop the button of his trousers, smirking at the hiss the friction of her palm produced against his cock. It shouldn't have surprised her that Loki was a commando kind of guy, but still, she gasped, partially from the ministrations of his clever fingers, partially from the mouthwatering sight in front of her. The thick, flushed length made saliva gather in the corners of her mouth.

He must've heard the audible swallow. "Not so haste, darling," He tutted, giving her relaxed body a gentle push, causing her to land on her back, heated skin against the soft duvet of her bed. "Let me taste you," A thud; Loki had dropped to his knees, using his large palms to spread her legs, opening her up to his eyes.

If his previous work hadn't made her so pliant, so aroused, she'd have been rendered speechless; instead, the woman arched her back, presenting herself and the desire that had pooled down below. The Asgardian chuckled, fingertips soft against the scratchy lace.

"Tease," The woman moaned, outstretching her arm to guide him but quite unable to reach him. She had to settle for squirming in her place, receiving a fraction of the desired traction against her swollen lips.

"Am I, love?" Loki asked her sweetly, caving enough to dip a single finger to run along the outside of her slit. It glided easily thanks to all the moisture gathered there, lips parting easily before his touch. The panties were vanished away promptly, another finger joining in immediately to rub slow, precise circles around her clit.

She keened low and long, fisting the fabric in her hand until her knuckles turned white. Loki knew what he was doing. It didn't take him very long to slide his long digits to the welcoming heat of her opening, dipping them inside until she began to make the noises he so craved. His mouth followed after that, long agile tongue drawing senseless shapes on the inside of her labia and dipping deeper, where her clit stood out engorged and slick.

He could smell the bittersweet of her arousal, mouthwatering and hot.

"Loki, fuck," She moaned, only half-coherent and partially aware of her own hips following his every stroke, every flick. He only advanced, hitting that sweet spot inside her with every stroke; the sparks traveling up her spine quickened with each time she changed his name like a prayer. "Loki, Loki, Loki..."

He growled, attaching his mouth firmly to her clit, and she arched for the final time, coming undone, squeezing around his fingers and gushing in his mouth, the obscene sounds covered by her own scream of delight and his impatient growling. The growling that sent shivers of aftershocks throughout her body.

"Darling, you taste so sweet," Loki groaned, still panting.

She took the time to open her eyes: Loki looked comically out of place in her bedroom, he dwarfed her bed and made her feel small, but it didn't matter at all at that very moment. His erection stood out hard and proud; despite the leg-shaking orgasm just moments ago, she wanted more, she wanted to taste him, she wanted to feel him inside-

With unsurprising agility, one swift motion was all it took for her to rest comfortably against the pillows, his throbbing member resting against the juncture of her thigh. She tasted her own release on his lips, however brief, whispering a weak, "Please," aching to feel the emptiness.

"As my lady wishes," Loki's cool breath ghosted over her cheek. She waited with baited breath until the tip of his manhood breached her, exhaling a moan into his neck and immediately wrapping her lips around a patch of skin as he stretched her so sweet.

Loki's arms shook slightly as he waited for her to adjust. He kissed her, soft and sweet; there was something vulnerable in him, something as sweet as the ache he'd taken away. Once he began to move, slow and fluid, all there was left was an all-consuming need to feel. As graceful as dancer and with a deadly precision, Loki pounded gasps, moans and screams out of the woman's slack mouth, kisses turning hungrier and sloppier by the second.

"So sweet," He cooed, relishing in the snug grip of her cunt around him.

She only keened in approval, too far gone and unused to the intensity of the feelings from a man with centuries of practice and the power of a god.

His thrusts slowed gradually until he was rutting into her, grinding his pelvic bone into her clit. The gasps and screams turned into drawn-out, longing moans; her hips followed his, meeting in a slow, sensual motion.

Loki was not a patient man. He withdrew - she gasped in protest - flipping the woman over on her fours with ease, taking but a split second to admire the curve of her body presented on display for him. Just for him.

With that thought burning in his mind, Loki sheathed his cock deeply inside her spasming cunt. It was nearly unbearably stimulating and only his own desire to prolong the bliss held back his own impending orgasm. That, and his own ego; he was naught if not a generous lover.

She slurred something, quiet and incorrigible, fucking back onto his cock as eagerly as he was plunging into her heat. The hand he'd placed on her shoulder promptly wrapped around her throat in hopes of lifting her close enough for him to hear the words but instead, it sent a full-bodied shiver throughout her. Loki grinned, tugging her that much closer.

The arch in her back looked quite uncomfortable yet she didn't mind; it was the exact opposite, in fact, her cunt tightened around him, drenching his shaft down to his balls. Her fingernails dug into the flesh of his thigh, the sting of pain going straight to his cock-

"Loki, I'm gonna, I'm gonna-" She slurred, gasping for air.

He weakened his hold on her throat enough to let her gulp the so-needed oxygen. It was her undoing: was it the rapid pace of oxygenated blood traveling to her brain or was it his cock, mercilessly pounding against her g-spot - she was violently spasming around his cock, much like she did around his fingers not too long ago.

It felt like ages, her crescendo coming in waves with no signs of stopping any time soon. Loki's continuous thrusts, his hips slamming into hers, her skin feeling like molten lava.

"Gonna fill your sweet cunt with my seed," Loki moaned lowly, holding her up by the throat, the other hand leaving fingertip-shaped bruises on the outside of her hips. "Mark you from the inside out," His voice had gone into primal territory, growling filling up the room.

"Please..." The woman rasped, oversensitive.

And he pleased, with a series of sharp thrusts, he buried himself to the hilt in her, the force of his release making her shudder and moan once against, going limp in his arms. Loki kept her in her place until every drop was inside of her cunt. Nothing was sweeter than that.

The Asgardian didn't bother with getting under the covers to hold her, conjuring a soft, comfortable throw in modest green, to cover their nudity. He didn't need the extra warmth but his companion was by far more fragile and sensitive to these things- Loki's fingertips traced the array of bruises he'd left in the wake of their passion, expression surprised as he found the woman smiling.

"Feels nice," She supplied meekly, eyes half-lidded, face trusting and open towards him.

He gave a small grin in return, placing a chaste kiss atop her head. "Yes, it does, darling."

Time after time, she didn't expect much out if their date. The sex was nice, nice enough for both of them to want seconds and thirds after their rushed first time - but it wasn't like she expected him to hand around. It was a pleasant change from the usual mutual ghosting she'd done with her previous partners, but Loki had texted again and they had resumed their conversation via text like nothing had happened.

No, that would be incorrect. Now, she had a wonderful friend who was a great conversationalist and an even better lover. There was no pressure to put a label on their relationship so the woman didn't bother with it; it didn't seem like Loki cared about the label, either, so she left the topic alone and enjoyed things the way they were. It wasn't like she had a line of suitors anyway.

She couldn't help the smile that creeped onto her face when she unlocked her phone and saw a video call request from other than Loki himself. She still had thirty minutes worth of lunch break to waste and this was a wonderful time to chat with a friend.

"Stark, hand it back or I swear to Norns-" Loki's voice sounded agitated and far away, accompanied by sounds of a struggle; the bearded, smug face on the screen was not who she expected at all. Only years of customer service and low bullshit tolerance combined stopped her from freaking out seeing none other than Tony Stark smirking at her from the screen of her phone.

"Yes?" She arched an eyebrow, taking note of the anger of Loki's tone.

"Hi, I don't think I need to introduce myself," Stark babbled, eyeing her - disheveled and with a wall full of sticky notes and miscellaneous items acting as the background to her video. "Reindeer games refused to show you to us so we decided to persuade him," Tony's grin grew wider, muted whispers being rapidly exchanged in the background all the while Loki screeched "BROTHER!" and various expletives at the top of his lungs.

"You could've, I dunno," She paused, unimpressed. "Asked me to dinner, like a normal person. Instead of stealing, you know, like a thief," The eyeroll that she performed had the team worried her eyes would fall out of their sockets.

"I merely borrowed his phone, don't be dramatic," Stark huffed, and for a moment, she could see various other people trying to look at the screen and by extension, at her. "So, what is it that you do? Because Smurf over there wouldn't..."

"Oops, bad signal. Sorry, can't hear you properly," Her side of the call suddenly shook and in a moment, she ended the call, not at all willing to deal with people that lacked boundaries. Sure, it might have been Iron Man, but if he was planning on being a snooping asshole, she wasn't gonna go down with that easily.

Exactly five minutes after she had clocked out, an incoming call from Loki had her equal parts excited and mortified. What if..? But he was apologetic. And very angry, swearing in his native language - something that he'd promised to teach her at some point.

"So, Clint did it?" She sipped her beverage, strolling home with the phone pressed snugly against her ear.

"Most of it was his fault, yes," Loki grouched on the other end of the call.

"I vote we get back at him. Invite me over, if he's so inclined to see me, and watch him get humiliated in front of everybody," It wasn't a secret she had her own mischievous tendencies.

"As much as I appreciate your vigour, darling, I doubt the Widow will appreciate you verbally castrating the Hawk in public," He replied sourly, his voice still betraying the faint notes of interest.

"I have a backup plan!" She stated without a hitch. "He'll embarrass himself and I'll be your alibi."

"I'm listening," Loki perked up immediately.

They decided to not to stall and schedule the 'family dinner', as Thor himself dubbed it, for the next available weekend. Loki had made sure Tony's AI had been made aware the trickster would be gone all day, and it took him very little magic and effort to pop in and out of the tower for the five minutes that were needed to execute their prank.

His friend barely managed to keep the snickering at bay as they ascended the elevator to the common floor where the dinner was being held. Not only that, but the woman spouted an area of dark purple love marks, barely obscured by the low turtleneck of her blouse.

She made her introductions and they made theirs. "This affair could use some background noise," She remarked off-handedly, casting a meaningful glance at the TV.

Tony Stark was known for being a great host so he entertained her wishes, flicking on the huge flat screen with a flick of his wrist.

The team froze.

"I... -" The woman stared at the screen, mouth hanging wide open at the scenes that played out. "... am not going to kinkshame, but please turn it off," She stated in a small voice, seemingly unable to tear her eyes away from the mass of tentacles commencing erotic assault on a woman's body.

Wordlessly, the TV shut down, immersing the room in stunned silence. Loki face-palmed, the slap of his palm against his face echoing in the eerily quiet room.

"Loki!" Captain America, red as a tomato, instantly accused the most obvious person.

Except, he had forgotten one thing. "Loki was with me all day," The woman replied, unkindly. "Do you need more proof?" She tugged on the hem of her turtleneck, exposing an inch of skin marked blue.

The good Captain's face changed the shade once again, venturing very well into beetroot territory. "Who was the last one to use the TV?" Rogers asked, now with a hint of anger, as he stared at a guffawing Bucky.

"I believe it was Mr. Barton," The AI piped up, mechanical voice sounding almost insinuating. Or, perhaps, it just appeared that way.