#but the fact that i remembered the blonde woman part and not the “exploring my brain” part. yeah very in character for me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mamamittens · 28 days ago

Note

Hi! For the spooktober event; My OC Rena (intersex woman femme), goes with Massacre Soldier Killer (Serial Killer). Rena typically wears femme punk attire. She has fluffy short black hair with a permanent cowlick over her messy bangs and gold eyes, and a 'crooked' smile. There is a leftover bucket with dark and white chocolate. Rena gets a pink schnapps, and killer buys her a Black Jack and Sangrita. She shares her pink schnapps with him later and gets him a Hot Damn, Brain Damage, and Pineapple Upside Cake. They share a Gladiator.

Cut to the Chase (+18)

This ask is part of the Spooktober 2024 Event, for context!

Summary:

Rena always loved the quiet isolation of abandoned buildings. Her explorations cut woefully short when bodies start piling up in her city at the behest of her good friend, and gentle giant, Killer. But she… just can’t help herself to a little bit of mischief. So she plans one last exploration in secret, promising to knock it off until the killer is caught after this. And at first, everything is going great! The abandoned luxury apartment building as spooky and dreary as she expected it to be! But she’s not as alone as she first thought, and soon it’s a chase through a maze of identical, decaying rooms and amenities. Her life on the line as she seeks to make it out alive.

Soon, she finds something inside her awakening as the shadows stalk her with shocking intent. Will she succumb to the killer’s knife, or find a more rewarding payoff for her poor decisions?

(Serial killer!Killer/Rena(OC))

Warnings: Semi-public sex (abandoned building), rough sex, oral, dubious consent, serial killer SO, implied bargaining with sex (it's now low-key a murder kink ig??? But he's only mostly playing with her about it), threats, blood kink/play, and use of a knife during sex.

Word Count: 5,950

“—Police advise all residents in the city remain indoors after eight PM and in populated areas. They further advise that no one travels into the downtown area after that point where several abandoned buildings reside—several of which have been the crime scene of this gruesome serial killer, The Midnight Stalker.” The news reporter informed Rena in an empathetic but serious tone. Imploring all viewers to remember the crucial advice they were being given.

Rena huffed, groaning as she collapsed against her best friend, Killer—yes, really, his parents were… well, not legally parents anymore for a reason.

Killer was fucking built. An avid supporter of anger management through physical exercise and it showed. Biceps thicker than most part trees Rena had seen in her lifetime, few tended to get close to the blond man. But he wasn’t nearly as scary as he appeared, or his frequent stress relief implied. Killer, contrary to his name, was a quiet, somber sort of person. Quite shy, in fact.

Soft blond hair brushing down his shoulders with fluffy bangs covering his eyes. Lips constantly kept in a gentle frown because of how much he hated his smile and laugh. Despite this, Rena enjoyed making him happy. Seeing that rare quirk of his lips a victory in it’s own right. Anytime they were in public, it never happened though, which is why they usually watched tv together. She would hate for him to be uncomfortable because she happened to quip when he wasn’t expecting it.

One day, he’d smile wide with all teeth, just for her. Not even thinking about how much he hates it—just enjoying the moment.

Killer flicked her ear and she yelped, jumping. Turning to look at him sharply, black hair covering her eyes for a moment until she brushed it away to glare at him.

Despite his eyes being obscured, she could feel him staring. Blue meeting gold in an intense, silent communication.

“No.” Killer huffed and she jerked back.

“I wasn’t going to go out!” Rena denied hotly, face flush as she looked away with a pout.

“It’s too dangerous right now. Just… until they catch him, please stay at home after dark. Promise me.” Killer asked softly, his voice unusually tense. Rena glanced at him, running a hand through her hair and toying with her stubborn cowlick. It bounced back into a half curl the moment she let go.

“… Fine! Only because you asked!” Rena huffed, watching him relax as much as he was able to. Tense muscles softening, his head falling back as he sighed, his entire chest shifting with relief.

Seeing him so relieved at her promise made Rena feel… like an asshole.

Because Rena, contrary to her promise, absolutely intended to go out tonight.

And not to any club, either.

No.

In downtown, there was an abandoned luxury apartment building she’d been dying to get a look around. A far cry from her shitty apartment. She wanted to see how good she could have it—so sue her! Killer teased her about watching those renovation shows all the time. It was a coincidence that her hobby of urban exploration happened to take her to somewhere she could never live in a million years. Rena heard that the planned prices for those apartments were in the thousands!

So hell yeah, she wanted to see!

And unfortunately, Killer rarely joined her expeditions. Being too busy during the day to spend all night in some dusty, ruined building complex. Otherwise she would ask him. But it was already getting harder to coordinate movie night with his busy schedule.

So Rena would take this one to the chest—both for her own satisfaction and to have one last hurrah before actually following that promise.

Which lead her to here.

In the most abandoned section of downtown. Where the pavement was cracked along ever block and most of the street lights didn’t work anymore. Some flickering manically in a dying strobe effect until they eventually popped. Not even the homeless that usually lingered in the area were out. All hiding away from the serial killer that stalked the city for the past four months. Every week a body or three were reported. A truly staggering amount of people going missing and being found in pieces. Having clearly struggled, some dragging their bodies several feet until they were finished off.

The details were gruesome, and likely would fuel many podcasts for a very long time.

But Rena wasn’t worried too much.

The apartment complex was locked up tight.

It was only a contact that managed to find an in and let the urban exploration community know with heavy precaution. There may not be guards, the land itself in real estate limbo and likely to be torn down soon, but the half-finished nature promised structural issues at the very least. The upper floors visibly deteriorated from months of rain water seeping in through broken tiles.

Rena dressed comfortably, black cargo pants secured with a belt to keep the heavy pockets from ruining her dignity. Black, ripped sweater keeping the worst of the chill out as her leather gloves creaked. Hood up and a ventilation mask to keep her safe from any pollutants within the building, she creeped around dirty alleyways. Climbing over and through fencing until she reached the back half of the apartment complex.

No less than three fences keeping intruders out, Rena found her contact was correct. The gate appeared to be locked with a heavy chain and padlock, but the lock itself fell open with a light tug. The second fence had a section of wire clipped for a flimsy door. And the third? Unfinished itself with a section almost twenty feet away from the previous entrance.

It was a bit of a bitch to get through, but Rena was pleased when she found herself in the center of a dead garden. Dirt bags piled against raised beds of bricks and concrete. A massive, dry fountain cracked with an angel meant to pour water down several raised platforms. Her face serene but busted like a brick had nailed the upper half of her head. Dead shrubs shriveled in decorative walls up to her hips and ornate concrete benches lining the central pavilion. Scaffolding of what would have been hanging floral gardens left bare and, in some cases, collapsed.

But this was just one recreation area.

Of many.

Just how many, Rena was unsure. The project was kept pretty secret, likely only divulged to those belonging to several tax brackets above herself. But she knew there was an outdoor pool in the center of the building and an indoor one inside the gym. Assuming either finished before the owners were arrested for embezzling elsewhere.

Evidence of other explorers were rare. Not even a lot of tags littered the outer and inner walls of the building as she entered through an unlocked service door. She pulled out her flash light and clicked it on, sweeping the clear beam of light across the area.

The first floor was mainly lobby and reception. Some staffing areas like breakrooms, coat closets, and offices. No furniture, of course, just empty desks built into the space and counters. There was even a bare kitchen, purpose only clear by the broken tile flooring and deliberately built in gas pipes with a heavy door for a walk in freezer.

It was all so… off putting. Seeing a building so close to being ready for its purpose but stopped just short. The air smelled musty, even through her mask, and a thick layer of dust settled onto every surface and piled into corners. Some water stains littered parts of the ceiling and bare walls, indicating how far down the damage had come over the years. There was some carpet but it was molding and ripped in places, perhaps by a stray dog.

With no power, Rena was forced to use the stairs but didn’t find that particularly surprising. It happened often on her little misadventures, after all.

The stairwell was particularly derelict. Just gray concrete and darkness leading up and down. A window on every floor the only source of light, slipping through chewed up corners of plywood someone had placed over them a while ago. Dubious puddles littered the floor and stairs as she carefully made her way up a floor, certain this was for staff use rather than residents since, frankly, it looked like shit even unfinished. Luckily, no floor seemed to be locked from access inside the stairwell.

Rena removed a wedge from her pocket and propped the door open just in case it locked behind her.

The second floor was apparently dedicated to amenities. A section of bare rooms, some with prop spa equipment—perhaps for investor photo shoots as proof of concept. There was a shower section, with cozy, private shower rooms with their own electronic locks and numbers on them connected to what would have obviously been the gym. A single rack of dumbbells in the far corner abandoned, bizarrely enough, next to a wall of mirrors. The other far end of the room windows overlooking the pool.

The gym was large, taking up half of the floor plan, revealing the inner shape of the sky well to be a massive diamond. It was dark, naturally, her flashlight only revealing pieces of the pool area littered with debris. Mostly trash, as no trees could dump leaves in the deep end. If she wasn’t so interested in the actual apartments, Rena would have headed down there. But by all appearances, there wasn’t actually anything on the pool pad.

Huffing, Rena jogged back to the open stairwell and paused.

She’d left it wide open.

And it still was… but she could have sworn she propped it open at a wider angle. Not quite to the wall but a few inches away. Now it was open about two thirds of the way. Subtle but… not the same.

She glanced down at the dusty white floor and frowned, noting the scuffs in the dust indicating the wedge had been kicked into place. She tended to set the wedge down and force the door over the wedge enough to keep it in place herself.

A little unnerved, Rena removed the wedge and continued up to the next floor.

It was locked.

Huffing, she went up another floor.

Also locked.

There were twenty-eight floors and Rena had to go up to the twenty-fifth floor to find an unlocked door. It opened up to a hallway, a utility closet left open with wires hanging out of the access point in the ceiling. The hallway was bare, half painted and clearly about where they stopped during construction. Cans of dry paint left out beside an apartment door. Luckily, it was unlocked.

Now, the apartment building was built in a sort of oval shape. With an inner sky well of a diamond shape. Four sections, each with a pair of elevators and two stairways each—one for staff and one a fire exit. This section apparently overlooked the garden she’d come in through, her height revealing it was bordered by a miniature playground and a dry pond. Her view point a massive, window in the living room, white carpet still rolled up against the wall for installation.

The apartment was, naturally, massive. Clearly on the higher end of the building’s price range. Every room spacious with vaulted ceilings. Cabinets made of what appeared to be dark marble and intended to be highlighted with recessed lights. The bathrooms made her want to cry they were so nice. Polished porcelain and glass shower walls with the fanciest set up she’d ever fucking seen. The kind that needs a manual to operate for a few weeks and likely worked as a sauna judging by the crisp seal along the edges.

A total of three bedrooms and two baths, a laundry closet, a walk-in closet connected to the master bath, two regular but still larger than her closet-closets, kitchen, and balcony.

Weirdly, despite the state of the building, there wasn’t any trash or signs of life on this floor. It was the only one unlocked so far, and she’d seen a few tags in the lobby. So she wasn’t sure why there wasn’t any in here. Confused, she left the apartment and ventured further down the hallway. The doors were all locked. Still it didn’t baffle her as much, seeing as the paint cans were nearby the other one.

Why any were locked at this stage in construction was odd in itself though.

Circling around the building and returning to her wedged door, she froze.

It was open only a few inches, wedge leaving a small gap.

Rena swallowed hard, shivering suddenly in the stale air.

Quietly, she resolved to see if the upper floors were also locked and then quickly leaving before she found whoever was fucking with her wedge.

If she’d been able to see more than one apartment, she would have left that instant.

But she was breaking a promise so she was damned if she didn’t make it worth the betrayal.

Quietly, she retreated up the stairway to the next floor.

Locked.

Twenty-seven?

Locked.

Twenty—

Click.

Rena froze, eyes wide as she barely opened the door to the top floor.

It came from below her.

An access door clicking shut and echoing up the stairwell.

Heavy boots following up with deliberate slowness.

Heart racing, Rena made a gamble and slipped in, letting the door softly click behind her. Certain the other person heard, Rena raced down the hallway, circling the building, looking for a second stairway.

She found it next to the elevator, gold doors water stained and the stairwell door broken. Bent out of shape by the handle like a horse had tried to kick it in. Utterly jammed and not going anywhere.

…click.

Rena jumped, head snapping to look down the hallway. Heavy boots echoing on broken tile floors.

Desperately, Rena looked around, noticing the doorway to the next section was blocked by supplies. No way to quietly get through without alerting her stalker unless she grew several feet or risked leaping over.

Stalker.

Midnight Stalker.

Rena narrowly avoided gasping for air as she realized what was happening.

Gorey details of previous victims flooding her mind.

Grown men ripped open with their organs strewn out, each one stomped to on until the victim died. Women with their chests shredded, brutally cut into from the feet up. Faces mutilated. Tongues ripped out. Eyes stabbed clean through.

Her eyes met the door facing the elevator.

It was an apartment door.

Just barely open and clearly unlocked.

Aware she had a few moments left until she was seen, Rena slipped into the apartment and painstakingly locked the door as quietly as she could. Only with the doorknob though, the bolt still uninstalled and sitting on the floor. Carefully, she crept past the kitchen still being built, cabinetry bare bones along the wall and silhouetting the beginning of an island. The living room was massive but empty save the balcony window.

Guest bathroom? Completely empty.

Guest bedrooms? Also empty.

Rena didn’t bother checking the closets, realizing the floorplan was almost identical to the one below but simply bigger.

The master bedroom, however, was set up for a photoshoot. Airy, dusty bedding stained with mildew over a California king mattress. Dark wood for the bedroom suite furniture. Eyeing the wardrobe and the bed, Rena was forced to make a decision as the front door was kicked in.

BAM!

Rena turned off her flashlight and then she dove under the bed, dirty carpet unpleasantly gritty beneath her as she hid to the best of her ability. Holding her breath as the darkness pressed in all around her.

She could hear them walking through the apartment. Gritty glass and tile cracking beneath their boots as they confidently stalked around. Doors slamming open as they went.

Rena felt a cold chill drop down her spine as she realized she left the master bedroom door open. Hearing the stalker get closer.

Thump-thump.

And closer.

Thump-thump.

And then—

Thump.

They were standing at the foot of the bed. Rena barely able to hear steady breaths above her through the thin, showroom bedding that hung low to the floor.

Thump-thump.

Click—thump.

Click.

Thump-thump.

Creeeeeeak.

…

Rena held her breath as the stalker inspected one of the joined rooms. The closet or the bathroom, she wasn’t sure.

SLAM!

Rena jumped, nearly screaming but managing to silence her alarm.

She heard them leave, faster this time.

Thump-thump-thump-thump… thump—thump.

Click.

It was hard to hear the sound, her ears straining to register the noise.

She assumed it was the front door but couldn’t confirm with bootsteps in the hallway since the walls weren’t shitty thin like her own apartment.

Rena waited, counting down from one hundred.

She waited a little longer.

And then she slipped out from under the bed. Walking silently, arms outstretched as she sought the door, flashlight in one hand.

To her surprise, the door to the hallway was closed.

Carefully, she clicked on her flashlight and checked to make sure she hadn’t been turned around.

She stared at the light switch beside the door and cautiously opened it.

It was the bathroom door.

“O-Oh—ahah!” Rena laughed softly to herself, shaking her head. “I’m an idiot--!”

Rena turned around, beam of light sweeping across the room towards the far corner where a massive figure stood, knife catching the light in their hand. Screaming, she ran, this time correctly identifying the door out.

But she was too late.

A thick, bulging arm of steel wrapped around her throat, choking her with the crook of his elbow. Fabric bunched up around her chin as she gasped, dropping her flashlight, sending a beam of light spinning around the room. Knife stabbing into the door above her head, sinking deep into the wood. Arm lifting her up high against their chest as she frantically kicked and scratched.

A deep, growling voice hissed into her ear.

“You. Promised!”

Rena froze, breath wheezing from her lungs as recognition trickled in.

The voice was muffled beneath a mask, but undeniably familiar.

“K-Killer?” Rena wheezed softly, almost pleadingly.

“I told you to stay home.” He hissed furiously, squeezing her tighter as she flailed uselessly. “Told you it wasn’t safe—why do you never listen to me when it matters, Rena?” he asked, voice deep and harsh, more furious than she’d ever heard him before.

She pat his arm fretfully, barely able to gasp for air, let alone beg for forgiveness.

After a moment, he relaxed and let her drop to the floor, still sputtering.

She gasped for air, choking with her eyes burning as she was pressed against the door.

“W-Why do you have a knife—why are you here?!” Rena sputtered, looking up at him. He was cast in faint light, the flashlight facing more to their left and bouncing off the wall. Blond hair pulled back in a ponytail and lower face covered in a blood-stained mask.

Killer sighed.

“C’mon, Reens, I know you’re not that stupid.” Killer huffed, shifting his shoulders under a thick leather jacket. Muscles bulging against the unforgiving restraints of leather.

“You’re… you’re the killer… The Midnight Stalker. B-But why? Y-You’re so…” Rena struggled to explain her feelings. Tears dripping down her face as her heart raced, looking up at the knife still embedded in the door.

“Sometimes, exercise isn’t enough.” Killer shrugged, like it made all the sense in the world. And to him, it must.

“… are you going to kill me now?” Rena asked in a small, frightened voice. “I-I… you asked me not to go out… and now that I know…” Rena swallowed hard.

The air was tense for several long moments. Killer slowly leaning in, arm pressed against the door with the casual confidence of a man who knew the only way out was a window over two dozen stories above ground level.

She couldn’t see his eyes, but she knew he was staring down at her. His hand, bare of any protection, cupped her cheek as he sighed.

“…I—”

“W-What’s frustrating you? I-I can help—I would have helped you if you asked me b-before this… You’re my best friend—” Rena’s voice died as his fingers, so massive against her small face, flexed against her scalp. “But you are.”

“Oh?” Killer growled, curling his hand into a fist in her hair. “Even after you know what I’ve done? The people I killed. How long they must have begged for mercy?” He hissed and Rena squirmed uncomfortably.

The details still fresh in her mind… Rena couldn’t deny it frightened her.

She felt so small against him. Her head barely to his chest. An edge of danger where once she felt total safety. It was jarring.

Dizzying.

Intoxicating.

“I-I…” Rena’s voice faltered as he grasped the knife and yanked it free. Holding her still with one hand while the tip of the knife dragged over her face. Digging across her cheek and leaving a thin, tingling line behind. Just shy of cutting her.

Killer’s breathing picked up as he rubbed the blunt edge down her neck, scraping her skin until it flicked seamlessly down the front of her hoodie. Cutting it down her chest with a crisp sound. With a thoughtless motion, Killer flipped the sides apart.

She gasped as the edge of the knife slipped against the swell of her breast, blood beading up in the aftermath.

“…I can convince you?” Rena panted, uncomfortably hot as Killer pulled the knife away and flicked it in his gasp, blade down. For a moment, she was afraid he would plunge it into her body, but instead Killer delicately slipped the blade between the cups of her bra and cut.

“Convince me?” Killer purred thoughtfully. “I’m not sure you’d be offering me that if you knew how often I imagined making you scream.”

It was only years of knowing Killer that gave Rena the impression he didn’t… strictly mean it in a bad way.

“I can still scream.” Rena offered and was rewarded with a stilted snort.

“Oh, I know I can make you scream.” He sighed, pressing the tip of his knife between the fabric and her shoulder. Slowly pushing it away as she allowed it to fall. A flick of his knife cutting another thin line along her collar bone. “So small, you know? It’s the worst. Wanting what I can’t have without breaking you.”

Rena’s breath came in quick pants, nipples beading under his scrutiny as he tilted his head. The cold, flat part of his knife tapping her breasts teasingly.

“What’s this? Aren’t you scared?” he asked curiously. Knife slipping around the curve of her breast as cutting a thin, hot line between them. Rena gasped sharply and tried to remain still. Certain he’d cut her much worse if she struggled.

“A-Absolutely but…”

“But?”

“You’re still my best friend.”

Killer snarled, knife lashing out into the wall as he pinned her against it.

She felt small and helpless.

And made her rub her thighs together to relieve the edge it inspired within her.

Rena squirmed, slipping down Killer’s chest.

“Do you really hate being called that, Killer?” Rena asked in a soft voice.

“It’s one of many reasons I’m so pent up.” Killer admitted, his voice tinged with confusion as she half kneeled between his thighs.

Rena kissed the harsh tent of his erection and tossed away her ruined sweatshirt and bra.

“Then I guess I just have to make it up to you?” Rena implied coyly, hands tapping at his thick belt.

Killer’s breathing was rapid and deep, chest heaving for air as his hips canted forward.

“Yeah. You should. Before I find a better use for that lying mouth.” Killer warned.

Not needing to be told twice, Rena slipped open his buckle and tugged down his pants. Forcing them over his thick thighs until his cock bounced free. She froze, certain that the light was just not clear enough.

He looked thick and massive. Cock straining to raise under its own weight as the tip caught the light in a wet smear.

Rena reached over and pulled the flashlight closer, propping it up to cast light onto the ceiling.

No.

Killer’s cock was just massive.

A heavy hand settled over her head and his other fisted his cock. Pumping it harshly.

“Scared, Reens?” Killer asked gruffly, concern barely hidden.

Rena nuzzled closer to his cock, allowing his knuckles to dig into her hair as she kissed the swollen balls. Whispering against the heated, curly hair.

“You’re so big, Killer. You’re going to choke me.” Rena’s voice was thick with excitement as his cock throbbed. Killer let her go and shoved down his pants all the way to his ankles.

“Yeah I will.” He grunted, grasping her face and pressing her lips to his leaking tip. Groaning as she licked the hot skin. Despite both of their interest, he allowed her to slowly take him into her lips. The thick tip heavy and dripping onto her tongue as she lapped at it. Sucking it further down her throat in slow motions until it weighed down her tongue and brushed the back. Certain she reached her limit, Rena started to pull away. “I. Will.”

Killer grasped her head and rammed his cock down her throat, groaning as she whined. Choking around his throbbing cock, throat swallowing around the obstruction as her nose buried into his curls. Killer let slip a chuckle and ground against her face. Fucking her face as she fell limp, relaxing to try and make it easier to take his cock down her throat. Letting him control her as she tried to just breathe, lightheaded and dizzy with arousal at the rough treatment her usually gentle-giant friend afforded her.

“N-Ngh, th-that’s it. T-Take my cock! B-Better than I imagined it would be—small throat so tight—good girl, baby.” Killer whined, cumming down her throat with a harsh moan. It spurted down her throat in a hot wave and filled her mouth until it spurted free from her lips. But he kept rocking and trembling against her face. Fucking her in desperate jerks. “P-Pretty convincing, Reens, ssssoooo fucking convincing! Show me! Show me why I-I should k-keep you alive!”

Rena whined, looking up at him through her lashes with tears in her eyes. She moaned loudly, watching as he jerked hard at the stimulation.

“Y-Yeah? A-And?” He demanded, balls hitting her chin with wet smacks.

Rena slipped open her belt and reached into her pants. Rubbing her soaked panties with a muffled moan. Circling her t-clit as her hips jerked sporadically with the growing heat.

“M-Mmm! C-Can hear your next argument—s-sounds promising, pretty girl. C-Can you take it, though? Can th-that tiny pussy take my cock?” Rena swallowed hard and moaned an affirmative, nuzzling into his cock. “Y-You think so? B-Better—that little throat can barely handle me as it is. H-Hurt, baby?”

It kind of did, actually. Rena’s throat burning with exertion as she suppressed her gag reflex. Her saliva struggled to lubricate his cock when he wouldn’t pull out. It turned her on, though, her fingers scissoring her cunt as he continued to fuck her messy face.

It felt good to struggle against him like this. Like he was taking what he wanted. And Rena, despite wanting it too, struggled to give it him. Requiring a firm hand to please him.

It shocked her a little when he suddenly pulled free with a harsh groan.

She sputtered, gasping for air, only for him to cum over her face as she jerked back in surprise. His fist slapping against his cock as he stroked out the last of it onto her open mouth. He grasped her face and squeezed, tilting her head to either side as he inspected her.

“Oh—look at that pretty face. Would be a waste to bust it in. You like that? Like me telling you what I almost did—have done before?” Killer asked breathlessly, the sound of her wet cunt clenching her fingers audible in the quiet room. “I saw you in the gym, you know. Didn’t recognize you at first. I planned on dragging you down the stairs and making you watch as I cut you open. Seeing how hard I am at the sound of your screams. M-Maybe I still will, pretty girl. Maybe I won’t—if I breed that wet pussy you keep playing with. Selfish. Always so selfish with your best toys.” Killer chuckled thoughtlessly.

“A-And waste this pretty cock only doing it once?” Rena asked now that she had caught her breath. “I could be your best toy. W-Want it, please, Killer—I’m so wet.” Rena squeezed her t-clit. Playing with the engorged button as she licked the cum on her lips.

“W-Would be a waste… But maybe I’m not convinced yet? Maybe I need to see if it’s as good as I dreamed to fuck that pussy raw until you scream.” Killer mused, dragging her up and shoving her around. Smacking her ass once before stripping her pants off, Rena kicking off her boots eagerly as Killer removed her belt all the way. “You’re mine, either way.” He sneered, pulling her wrists close over her lower back and tying them together with her belt.

He stepped back, lifting up her hips and dragging her with him. Rena struggled to arch up her spine to keep from folding over his arm as he pressed his cock against her cunt. Rubbing the thick, hot mass between her folds as she dripped profusely onto him.

“I-I… Killer… you know I can’t have kids…” Rena admitted softly.

Killer grunted, popping the thick tip into her pussy.

“…I know.” Killer adjusted his arm under her belly to hold her more firmly before slamming in deep. “Doesn’t mean I can’t breed you, Reens.” He laughed as she screamed, her pussy struggling around his cock. Her ass not even brushing his hips as he railed her cunt open. Trying to force his cock to hilt despite knowing how small she was.

“K-Killer! Killer! Ahn! AH! A-AH! O-Ooh—K-Kill—Killer—yes—H-Hurts s-soooo g-ood! So! Good~!” Rena wailed, her voice bouncing off the walls erratically as she cried out, fucked like a toy over Killer’s arm. Legs swaying with his aggressive thrusts as she struggled to remain horizontal. Pussy burning as his cock bullied her past her limits.

His free hand stroked down her spine thoughtfully for a moment before the cold edge of a knife pressed against her skin. He made a small cut and she moaned, jerking in his hold without thought, fire burning as he sliced across her arm.

The pain twisted her mind as it consumed her. A scream ripping from her throat as her spine snapped back, cumming onto his cock as he continued attempting to hilt inside her.

“L-Looks so cute covered in blood—d-don’t worry, it’s not deep. B-But I sure am. L-Look at that, almost halfway down my c-cock—good girl—good girl~” Killer panted, fucking her through her orgasm as she wailed, mind scrambling to comprehend half of his cock inside her. “G-Good reason to keep you, isn’t it? T-training you to take my whole cock like a good girl? Breeding you every night—how’s that sound? W-Want to save a few lives with that cute pussy?”

The suggestion of a future offering up her body to keep Killer from going out and murdering someone made her moan. Letting him take out all his frustrations on her body, his good girl.

“Y-Yeah—yeah—w-why waste your time with them when you c-could be breeding me, baby?” Rena asked breathlessly, thighs trembling as he buried his cock as deep as it would go. Straining her walls as she whined. “B-Breed me—breed me, Killer—wanna be yours! M-Make me—give me—w-want it~!” she babbled, head fuzzy with the impossible stretch of his cock.

Killer leaned down, chest plastered against her slick back as he reached down to where his cock bullied her pussy. Fingertips brushing over her swollen t-clit. Grinding harshly onto it with a deep groan as it made her cunt spasm around him.

“Now that’s a good argument.” Killer agreed, making her squirt onto his cock as he ground into her overstimulated cunt. Hot cum filling her stuffed pussy and spilling down her thighs as he grunted. Brushing down his face mask so he could kiss her shoulders and lick up her throat. “H-Hate wasting time—already wasted so much time trying not to breed this sweet cunt. W-Why hold back anymore when I could enjoy making my brave girl scream?”

Rena cried out, babbling agreement against the molded door as Killer started fucking her again. Keeping her lifted up to receive his cock—as much as she could take and a little bit more.

Rena’s moans bounced off her apartment walls as she clutched Killer’s leather jacket. Legs trembling as she lowered herself onto his cock. Still barely able to take any more of it than she did that first night, Killer was still just as eager to try. One arm thrown over the edge of the couch and the other brushing back his hair as he grinned without a single care. Too enthralled at the way her pussy struggled around him.

Knife gleaming in his outstretched arm.

“Ya sure you wanna try again tonight, Reens?” Killer asked with a smirk. “Been wanting to check out a new building.” He teased.

“U-Uhn—less you wanna fuck there too—no! W-Wanted this all week! C-Can’t wait anymore!” Rena whined, leather creaking between her fists as he stretched out her pussy.

The ‘Midnight Stalker’ hadn’t claimed a life in over a month.

Not since they’d made their relationship official, that is.

Sometimes he’d cheekily threaten to ‘go out’, but he barely needed to finish his sentence before Rena was bent over the nearest table.

They fucked other times, sure, but when he was in a mood… Well, there was a reason Rena was so eager to take his cock. Only a matter of time until he used the knife on her, gifting her little cuts here and there. And every inch of his cock her body could take until she wailed about it being too much. Her sadistic boyfriend not stopping until his bloodlust—and sexual desire—was sated.

She could lie and claim it was for those innocent lives he’d otherwise brutally murder but…

“That’s my eager little girl~” Killer teased, thrusting up into her suddenly to force out another wail. “So pretty on my cock. Struggling to take it all… maybe tomorrow instead. Don’t have work so I’m free… unless you are too?” Killer asked.

She nodded, bouncing on his cock harder, gasping for air between frantic moans.

“I-I am--!” Rena squeaked, falling onto his chest as he braced her ass with one hand. Thrusting up into her as he sighed in faux reluctance.

“Nothing for it. Guess I gotta breed you tomorrow too, baby.” Killer smiled, leaning down to kiss her. Tongues tangling together as they moaned, bodies trembling from pent up aggression.

If he never killed again—it would be a secondary benefit to the city. Mostly just because Rena couldn’t stand not having his pretty cock on a regular basis and Killer willing to indulge her. Only smiling when she’s crying on his cock—too fixated to care about his smile or laugh when her pussy demands every inch of his attention.

#one piece smut #spooktober 2024 #killer one piece #tw: murder #tw: dubcon

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fioras-resolve · 9 months ago

Text

I started Zero Time Dilemma! Here are my notes.

-So like, up front, this is a very different game from VLR or 999. Its intro starts not with an escape sequence, but with a choice. This sets the stage for what this game is Really about, and it's definitely a shift. It might turn out to be a lot for me, as someone who's not used to decisions as core gameplay

-The fact it's all an autoplaying cutscene gives ZTD a very different vibe from previous Zero Escape games. Not sure if I like it, but I might like it soon.

-So like, okay. After doing some cursory research, this game was inspired by Telltale's "The Walking Dead." It's a more cinematic experience, to appeal to the West. The thing is that Telltale had been doing games like this for a decade, and also clearly had more of a budget. So while Zero Time Dilemma being able to have actual shot composition is cool, the characters animate less than characters animate in a Telltale game, or in previous Zero Escape games for that matter.

-SHE SAID AMONG US, SHE SAID ZERO IS AMONG US LET'S FUCKING GO

-God the redesigns of pre-existing characters for this game are so fucking funny. ZTD!Phi feels fucking engineered to be hot, her design shows less skin than Alice or Lotus but manages to feel so much more horny. Although maybe that's just my tastes.

-Oh my god the choice to remix songs from 999 as well as VLR is inspired. VLR already straight-up reused songs from 999, but there's some songs remixed from 999 that didn't show up in VLR. Love that! Genuinely, it's cool.

-Wait so is Diana actually American? Or is she just a redhead with blue eyes for aesthetic reasons?

-Oh my god Carlos is the most Nathan Drake-ass White Guy to ever be put into a Japanese game. He's got the face, jacket, the voice, the Blonde White Dude Haircut. I love that Zero Time Dilemma's new wacky creatures after VLR's GOLM and Zero III are just white people. (Please ignore this if being a Latino turns out to actually be part of Carlos's character)

-So the big thing is that even though this is cribbing from The Walking Dead, its time travel mechanic means that I'm exploring possibilities more than living with my decisions. Although I am VERY early on still, I haven't even gotten to an escape room yet! Speaking of,

-I have not gotten to an escape room yet. What the fuck? That's usually the start of the game! Instead the game starts me off with the decision mechanic and the fragment of time stuff.

-Oh my fucking god, titty physics? In a game where the characters are animated this little? Mira is this game's scantily clad big-breasted woman, and this game immediately services the fans.

-I mentioned Phi's design earlier, and I've gotta say it feels like these character designs were all intended to be either relatable or titilating to a western audience. Like yes, Mira, Akane, and Phi are all different brands of hottie, but there's also Carlos, aka the most Video Game Guy ever, there's Eric, who's just some dude, and also Sigma is also looking incredibly Mid-2010s Western Game Protagonist too. And Diana is the first playable female character in Zero Escape so I feel like she is designed to be at least a bit relatable to femme audiences.

-I love how this is literally just Saw. "Each of your rooms has a small yellow button. Pushing it will let you escape, but send a shower of hydrogen flouride to the other rooms, killing them. The early bird gets the worm." This rules.

-I remember playing 999 and VLR and feeling like they were kind of bloodless, despite all the blood and death. The thing is that in those games, I almost never had to live with the consequences of causing someone else's death, in a way that wouldn't also be causing the death of the entire group. You know, a Game Over. But here, living with the consequences of causing someone else's death is the entire gimmick of the narrative. It's horrifying! I love it. Since this is Zero Escape there's prooooobably gonna be a relatively bloodless True Ending, but the fact that I don't know if that's true here is definitely worth commending.

-I also love how extremely straightforward the gimmick is here, there's no Ambidex Game or Digital Root to deal with here, you just decide who to kill and when.

-Okay I know that fact-checking is anathema to Zero Escape's mystique but I refused to believe that the Sleeping Beauty Problem wouldn't be solved at this point, that's a mathematics thing, there's no way they just don't have an answer yet. So I check on Wikipedia, and apparently yeah, it's still open for debate! Shit! Wonder if this'll still be true in 2028 when the game takes place!

-…Yeah, this is definitely a game I'm gonna have to play in spurts. I'm kinda surprised, for a series that's always been about deadly games, just how much darker this one is. I kinda like it a lot, but it's definitely a lot to have to go through.

#zero escape #zero time dilemma #ztd spoilers #zero escape zero time dilemma #angie's notes

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nicascurls · 2 years ago

Text

Strangeness and Charm - Part Three

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Season 1 AU where Andy and Kyle arrive at Charles Lee Ray’s old house before Tiffany leaves with Junior and Nica and ultimately save them. Set in 2017, two weeks after Cult since that's when the show was originally mentioned to be set and in my opinion, makes the most sense.

Notes: Yay! Nica’s awake, I love her and I loved exploring her thought process in this part as well as Kyle and Andy’s since someone *cough cough* Don Mancini *cough cough* seems to neglect their feelings. Also I’m a complete sucker for BarclayPierce, so there are hints in this part and finally, happy birthday once again to Alex Vincent.

Tags: @streets-in-paradise @losersclubisms @silvershewolf247 @cornerofhell

The first thing Nica was aware of was a feeling of comfort. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt that, it must have been what? Four years? Closer to five, actually.

But, oh God what does that mean? She let out a soft whimper as she tried to remember what happened before she passed out. She just hoped that this was her waking up and not her regaining control.

That's when fear struck her, after the first time she regained control she knew there was nothing she was safe from. She slowly began to open her eyes against the sun rays on her face, dreading the sight of the blonde psychopath she expected to be greeted with.

"Andy, Kyle! It looks like Nica is waking up."

Andy? Kyle? And that voice definitely wasn't Tiffany's but Nica couldn't bring herself to get her hopes up.

She fully opened her eyes, squinting against the light and began to push herself up to sit. That's when she met eyes with the 6 people in front of her, four teens, two she could remember from before, the others she didn't recognise. And then two adults, a blonde woman, but not Tiffany. Definitely not her and a man, close to her age. Possibly a few years older and something about him seemed familiar, she couldn't quite place what.

Wait.

Andy, Andy Barclay?

She supposed it could be possible but she knew the dangers of getting her hopes up. The last time she did that she was faced with Tiffany telling her that Alice was gone before gleefully dumping her killer in her lap.

"Where am I?" Nica asked, doing her best to keep her voice steady. She couldn't afford to show weakness, not when she was already at a disadvantage.

"Uh, Hackensack. We brought-" Junior started, taking a step forward before stopping when he saw Nica flinch. "I'm sorry, I should have thought about that."

Nica remained tense, eyes darting from one person to the next. Andy was becoming more alert now and slowly moved closer to the sofa bed.

"Look, we're not going to hurt you, you're safe. Okay, Nica?"

She made no attempt to move again but kept her eyes fixed on the man in front of her. She was doing her best to read his emotions, to find some form of malicious intent that she had grown so used to seeing in people but she couldn't find it.

"How do you know who I am?"

"It's kind of a long story but I'm Andy-"

"Andy Barclay?"

"Yeah..."

At this point Kyle put her guard up, Andy had said they needed to be cautious, that Chucky could trick them and she already had to get her brother out of a padded cell because of this one.

"You hear that from Chucky?" She asked sternly, if it was Nica she didn't want to scare her but she just couldn't risk it.

"Wha- No. I did some research the night he killed my family. I had been suspicious about where the doll came from and came across an article from '88. But, you know what he did don't you?"

"You mean possessing you in an asylum?" Jake responded.

"Yeah, that."

"Look, I'm sorry about this," the blonde woman. Kyle? Began, " but how do we know this isn't Chucky talking now?"

"Believe me, if it was Chucky he'd be up and moving by now. The most I can do is drag myself around." Nica responded bitterly, that was one of the facts she resented the most. That he could walk in her body when she had always been considered as less by people because he took that from her.

"How did I get here?"

"Oh um, Andy found both of us in Tiffany's car and him and Kyle got us out before she came back." Junior started, he made sure to stay where he was and kept his hands in plain sight. He had never wanted to hurt Nica in that house but he knew Nica really had no way of knowing that, the last thing he wanted to do was scare her again. "Look, what happened at the house. I, I didn’t, wasn't going to hurt you. I just didn't know what to do or what they would do."

Nica looked at the boy, she could see the same nervousness in his face as she did in that house. She was still hesitant but she knew she couldn't hold what happened against, Junior? As far as she knew, he could have ended up just like Alice if it hadn't been for Andy and Kyle.

"It, it's okay," Nica began, "believe me I know how manipulative Chucky can be."

"We've got pizza if you're hungry, it's pretty cold now but-" Jake then cut Lexy off, "Or we have other food in the kitchen."

"The pizza will be fine." Nica responded quickly, she couldn't remember the last time she ate and she imagined Chucky isn't one to take care of himself, especially in her body.

"Here, take your pick." Devon passed her a pizza box containing all of the leftover slices.

"Thank you." Without further discussion Nica took the first piece she saw, without even acknowledging the toppings. She couldn't remember the last time she had a meal that wasn't God awful hospital food, let alone pizza.

"I'm guessing you still have a lot of questions."

Nica, looked up at Andy and slowly nodded. She finished off the slice of pizza before responding.

"Uh, yeah. Honestly, I'm not really sure where to start."

"How about we tell you what we know and then you do the same for us?" Kyle suggested as she entered the room again with a glass of water, "I thought you might be thirsty."

"Thanks." Nica responded, reaching for the glass with a small smile.

The others proceeded to explain everything they knew about the current situation as Nica finished off the pizza, grateful to have anything close to a decent meal.

"Well that explains why Chucky wanted me to kill, I knew there had to be something in it for that bastard."

"Chucky tried to make you kill? When?"

"Just before he possessed me at Harrogate, one of the doctors."

"Foley?" Andy asked hesitantly. The mention of that man's name made Nica shudder before turning to Andy.

"How'd you know that?"

"It's kind of a long story but I had spoken to him a few times."

"Why?"

"To, um, to try and visit you or prove you innocent I guess."

Andy's eyes kept flickering down to the floor, too shy to watch Nica's reaction to what he just told her. He made the mistake of taking a quick glance at the others only to be met with Junior with a much bigger smirk on his face than before, almost identical to the one Kyle was pulling next to him. The same one she pulls when she thinks she knows better, or when he says he's not a bad driver. Which he isn't.

Meanwhile, Nica wasn't sure what to do. She was still trying to comprehend what Andy said, and why would he do that? Genuine kindness had been such a rare thing for her since Chucky, it felt alien to her. She wanted to ask more about it, but she could see Andy nervously looking at the floor and decided it was best to ask them with less of an audience.

"Sorry," Kyle began, "but going back to the subject of possession, I guess we should ask how often you've been in control."

"Um, about two or three times I think. I think there have been some moments where I'm slightly aware of what was going on but I didn't have control."

"Well, when were the times you were in control?"

Nica hid her face in her hands for a second, trying desperately to fight the headache that began whenever she tried to think about past moments she was in control over Chucky.

"The first time I remember was November 8th so that was, what's the date today?"

"November 13th" Jake pitched in.

"Right. 5 days ago, okay. Then it happened again, I think a day or two later? Then again when you two were there." Nica gestured over to Junior and Devon before directing her next question to the latter. "Actually, I hope you don't mind me asking, but how did you get to that house?"

"Oh, I had gone to investigate." Devon responded quickly, anxious to go into further detail after seeing the confusion Nica had faced since being possessed. Although, the attempt was in vain. Nica could tell something was wrong and then it hit her.

"Oh God!" She began, "I was the one that hurt you, wasn't I? I'm so sorry, are you okay n-"

Devon immediately cut off her apologetic rambling, "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine now. Honestly, it's alright. I know it was Chucky, it's not your fault."

Nica, looked over at the boy and gave him a smile and a small nod of thanks.

“So, do you have any idea what makes you change?” Lexy questioned.

“Um,”

“Tiffany slapped her when we were there,” Junior cut in, “that’s what made her switch back to herself. Don’t know how much that helps though.”

“Actually, it might. When I woke up the first time there was a guy that was tied up, I tried to free him but he ended up hitting me, which makes sense I guess but that’s the last thing I remember from that.”

“What about the other time? Is there anything else that could have an effect?” Kyle pitched in, leaning closer.

“Uh, Tiffany hit me in the back of the head with something, that’s the last thing I remember from the second time. As for other things, blood maybe? That always seems to be near Chucky and Tiffany, I’m not sure if that affects anything though.”

“We could always test it!” With that Junior got up and made a move for the kitchen, Andy jumped up in response. “Woah, Kid what are you doing?!”

“Getting a knife.” Junior then clocked the concerned expressions of the others in the room. “Not like that. Just a small one, you know? To make a little cut and see if the blood works. No big deal.”

“Hang on,” Nica responded, looking around the room. “Someone tie my legs first, that will at least stop Chucky a little, if this does work.”

Kyle swiftly picked up the rope on the ground that had bound Nica’s hands previously before moving towards Nica, who moved the blanket to one side. Kyle made quick work of tying Nica’s ankles together, double and triple knotting the rope just to be sure. That was when Junior returned to the room with a small vegetable knife, the sight of it caused the nerves to begin to sink in for Nica and she turned to her right to see Andy giving her a small reassuring smile.

“You ready?” Kyle asked, taking the knife from Junior and putting her own gun on the table next to her as Andy held his own, suddenly avoiding all eye contact with Nica. Nica took a deep breath, “Yeah.”

Kyle made a small cut on the palm of her hand before turning it to Nica, her gun now in the other hand. It only took a second of looking at the blood before the dreaded sinking feeling washed over her again and she let out a small whimper of fear before falling back.

The others kept their eyes fixed on her form, a gun in each of the adults’ hands. That was when Chucky let out a groan, pushing himself up and clicking his neck.

“Kids, stand back.” Andy warned them, they didn’t need to be told twice, Devon had already begun to move back, grabbing Jake's hand to make sure he followed. Next to them, Lexy and Junior did the same.

Chucky opened his eyes, legs struggling against the binds and looked around before he landed on Andy pointing the gun at Nica’s body. Chucky let out a smug chuckle before speaking, “Well, this is familiar. Ain’t it, Andy?” All of them remained silent, Andy seemingly frozen in place, refusing to take his eyes off of Chucky. “What? Ya not gonna shoot this time? No, of course ya won’t, not now you know she’s still in here.”

“Shut it, fucker.”

“Wouldn’t want to shoot a pretty girl, r- agh!” Chucky was cut off as Kyle fist collided with Nica’s face, causing Chucky to fall back once again. Nica let out a gasp as she regained control before slowly sitting up again. “I’m guessing it worked.” she said weakly as she raised a hand up to her jaw.

“Uh huh,” Lexy responded, slightly bewildered. “At least we know how to get you back now.” Nica smiled at that, it was nice feeling as if she had some form of control again, and it seemed the others were reassured by that as well. Well, all except Andy, who seemed to be avoiding looking at her at all costs.

Kyle decided to take over before things got awkward, “Right, so now that theory has been proven right, What’s the plan?”

#chucky #chucky 2021 #child's play #chucky syfy #andy barclay #nica pierce #kyle simpson #junior wheeler #jake wheeler #devon evans #lexy cross #charles lee ray #tiffany valentine #barclaypierce #chucky fanfiction #Strangeness and Charm

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rottentiger-art · 2 years ago

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I see you out here posting Sparrabeth content 👀 what do you think about the comparisons of L to Jack and Misa to Elizabeth?

No but, I saw you liking them and was about to dm you to see if you wanted to talk about this lol

Where to start? There's so much to say. When comparing them I realize, hell maybe I do gave a type!

The obvious first, they're both ships with wasted potential. They also give me the vibes of het ship for queer people (the counterpairs being het ships for straight people) if that make sense.

Physically, they're very pretty much the same, taller dark-haired man, shorter blonde woman + they both have a big age gap, one significantly bigger than the other (lawmane 7 years and sparrabeth 22 years if I remember correctly).

When speaking to each other, they almost always seem to be so unnecessarily close, specially Jack and L, that have no problem getting into Lizzy and Misa's face and invade their personal space.

Both L and Jack are seen by other characters as eccentric and weird and their sometimes cold and questionable actions provokes either admiration or contempt, while Misa and Elizabeth are judged first by their beauty and most characters seem to think of them as innocent naive girls, not aware of their dark side. L and Jack seem to be the ones that really see through them and can see the darkness behind those beautiful eyes. I really don't think Light and Will (their canon love interests) truly knew them, Light just knew enough to manipulate her and not let her become a threat, and Will for example always seemed surprised by Elizabeth's actions.

What the four of them have in common is that they're willing to do morally questionable stuff to get what they want/need.

Sparrabeth have an insane amount of sexual tension, eyefucking all around, Lawmane tho it's more subtle, as it's been pointed out (shout out to @gigantomachy1916 analysis of L, Misa and Sex in Death Note) L has only had shown sexual interest in Misa, in some scenes were faked, but others is undeniable.

Their dynamics are pretty alike as well, but their fanon dynamic are near identical. In fact, being the obsessive weirdo I am, having reading the majority of the fics on each ship's AO3 tag, I took notice of every similarity. Funny how two ships of completely different fandoms with completely different plots have so much in common.

They're both given the same tropes in most fics: Enemies to Lovers (for Lawmane it may go Enemies to Friends to Lovers, for Sparrabeth Friends to Enemies to Lovers), Unrequited Love, Infidelity/Cheating, First Time/Loss of Virginity, Not Your Damsel In Distress, Birds of a Feather, Deflecting for Love or Dating Catwoman (depends on the fic, Jack is not really the villian on most fics,but the world around Elizabeth sees it this way), I'm sure there's more that I'm forgetting, but you get my point.

Another thing both fandoms have in common as seen through fic as well as posts, is that we both believe Misa and Elizabeth deserved better, and these ships allows us to give them that, it's also very clear we care more about giving our girls what they deserve rather than the romanticism (tho of course, that is a big part of it too). I've not seen a Sparrabeth fic where Elizabeth is treated as just a housewife-child bearer (like canon) or a Lawmane fic where Misa becomes L's unwanted useless sidekick (basically replacing Light's role in her life), most fics take the time to explore why these girls are so great and likeable, why they should have been allowed more power and autonomy, why they had the potential to be more. I mean, Misa not only had the eyes of a Shinigami, she also had a Shinigami completely devoted to her, yet they decided to make her a sillu girl too in love with a guy to take advantage of it (I think Misa is smarter than she lets on) and Elizabeth was made Pirate King, you mean to tell me she's gonna drop that title to live the life she never wanted? And for a man she's only going to see once every 10 years? And they wonder why we run for these ships instead.

I'm making a post about how I think Sparrabeth's relationship would have gone and how I don't believe they'd be a conventional couple, but that doesn't mean they'd be unhappy, quite the contrary, same thing could be said about Lawmane.

And this one only aplies to me, but they're also the kind of ships where I can't ship the canon pair but I ship the male character with their love rival lol a.k.a Lawlight and Wil x Jack (do they have a ship name??)

+Bonus comparisons:

"I'm totally kidding,,, unless?"

Sure it's really normal to talk this close to someone you don't want to kiss

Sorry if I rambled a lot lol TL;DR, Lawmane and Sparrabeth are more similiar than one could think, should have been endgame and deserve more recognition than they get

I would like to know what you think too!

#I rambled so much I'm not even sure I really answered you question lol #sorry #ask box #littlerateur97 #parallels #sparrabeth #lawmane #elizabeth swann #jack sparrow #misa amane #l lawliet #pirates of the caribbean #death note #tiger's rants #my girls deserved better #just realized many of those things can apply to jonerys and amylaurie #specially physically

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dameronology · 3 years ago

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Can you Please do number 4 OR number 1 with Matt

matt murdock + 4) "i can't call you a stranger, but i can't call you" - tell me how, paramore

Matt knew your body inside and out; he had your little mannerisms and all your cues. Nobody else noticed how much your voice dropped when you were stressed, or the fact you walked ever so slightly faster when you were excited. Not even you knew that your heart picked up every time you were around someone you loved, or that the tips of your fingers were a little drier than your hands because you always forgot to moisturise them. Your body, to him, was like a map; one that he'd explored and knew well. One that he didn't need to read, but took joy in memorising.

It was all a memory now, though. Matt still remembered it as though it were fresh in his mind from this morning but it had been months since he'd heart your heart or felt his hands in yours. It was coming up on a year, in fact; a year since you'd finally had enough and walked away. And it was funny, really - because Matt constantly went out your way to remind you of how great you were and how much you deserved. It was in remembering that worth he always preached about that you realised you'd deserved better than all those miscalls and late nights. All the days you went without hearing from him, all the arguments you'd had in which he'd danced around lies and fed you a bunch of bullshit. Even though he loved you more than anything in the world, it just wasn't enough. There wasn't enough time in the world for the man to be a lawyer, a vigilante and a partner.

So he'd sacrificed the latter - perhaps with your blessing, perhaps not so much.

Eleven months had passed and maybe you were good now. Not because you'd spoken and agreed to be, but because it felt like enough time for things to have cooled down. You'd probably taken the brunt of the break-up and if you were okay now, you figured Matt should have been too. He'd probably taken out his frustrations in his own way; on criminals, most likely. You'd just binged ten seasons of Friends and called time on your grieving.

So, when you saw him across a crowded room, you didn't feel the need to runaway. He was with Foggy, who you considered to be a friend - even if you'd met him through Matt, and consequently lost him a little in the break-up. There were no hard feelings there, either. It was only natural for him to get custody, right? Even though Foggy wasn't a child, and you and Matt had never been married (even though there had been times when both those statements were debatable).

"Matt!" you called his name with some kind of uncertain gusto.

He turned around from the pool table, looking as gorgeous as ever; tousled hair, five o'clock shadow, sleeves unevenly pulled up around his elbows and tie loosened. That was your favourite version of him. He wasn't work Matt, or vigilante Matt. He was just Matt. Hanging out with his friends, beer in one hand and a pool cue in the other. That's how you'd met him, and it was how you liked to remember him.

"Wow, hi," the lawyer greeted you with a smile.

He was stood with a blonde woman - she was tall and slender and beautiful, and had a warm smile. From the way she was stood, you didn't think she was involved with your ex. Why was that even a concern of yours? Just natural, you figured. Some part of you would always love him and hence, some part of you would always want him to be yours (of course, he always would be - in the same way some part of him would always want you to be his).

"I forget you guys always hang out here," you said. "I just stopped in to use the restroom, to be honest."

"They're disgusting, right?" the blonde chimed in.

"Oh, awful," you replied. "I don't know how Josie keeps this place open."

"Well, she has some pretty good lawyers," she grinned. "I'm Karen, by the way. The unofficial secretary of Nelson & Murdock."

"Nice to meet you," you tried to hide the relief in your voice. She was just the secretary. You stuck out your hand, offering your own name in return.

"Did I just hear who I thought I heard?" the cries of the drunker half of Nelson & Murdock came across the bar. "Oh my god, I did! It's you! It's really you!"

"Hi, Foggy - oof!" you greeted the lawyer, letting out a squeak as your chests collided in a tight hug.

"It's so good to see you here!" he exclaimed. "And you've met Karen, too!"

"How do you guys know each other?" Karen kindly asked.

Ah yes, the question you were dreading. She hadn't visibly reacted when your name had been revealed, which lead you to believe that Matt probably hadn't said anything too incriminating. He was habitually keeping to himself now, letting the introductions play out before he stepped back in.

"College," you quickly said.

"Oh, we were friends alright!" Foggy grinned, turning his attention to Karen. "I had the BIGGEST crush on them, but so did Matt, but we were all friends, and then they were way more than friends for - what was it? Like five years? Then they broke up and they were really not friends after that, and...oh no, I've made it awkward, haven't I?"

"I think it was awkward before that," Matt bit his lip. "But you certainly haven't helped the case."

"What Foggy is saying, is that..." you trailed off. Actually, what the fuck was Foggy saying?

"We're not exactly strangers," Matt finished the sentence for you.

It was a weird position to be in. One day you'd been each other's everything, and now you'd gone eleven months without speaking. You were the opposite of strangers, but you definitely couldn't pick up the phone to call him for a chat, or to wish him a happy birthday. There was some kind of weird middle ground; your relationship was history. Your relationship had a lot of history, before the thing itself became history. Just a lot of...the past being the past. Even if it sucked.

"Since you're not exactly strangers," Karen began. "I propose you join us for a drink."

You glanced over at Matt for some kind of signal- and even though he couldn't physically see it, you knew that he'd know. That was all but confirmed when he gave you a subtle thumbs up, hand disguised by the pool-stick so that only you could see it.

"It is a Friday," you said. "I guess one drink won't hurt."

Matt smiled to himself, giving a solid nod. He'd missed you more than he cared to admit - you'd been a pretty foundational pillar in his life. It had gone a little tits-up since you'd left but he'd learnt to adjust, even if it meant making his own coffee in the morning and just hoping that his hair looked okay without your tired input.

And as you walked to the bar, he couldn't help but notice how your heart was picking up a little.

#asks #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock x you #matt murdock imagines #matt murdock fic #daredevil x reader #daredevil imagine #daredevil x you

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buckybarnesdiaries · 4 years ago

Text

otchet o missii

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

part one ⸺ part two ⸺ bonus

request made by anon: Hi Maria you beautiful person you please be my friend 🥺 I kinda have a request but if it doesn't speak to you then you don't have to write it, could you write something where reader is an enhanced/ mutant (kinda like Wanda or Jean Grey so like crazy powerful and dangerous) and Bucky just will not let the government get near her because he knows they'll probably experiment on her to make her a weapon cause they're sus like that? It can be romantic or platonic no preference, if ya want, please and thanks sorry this was so long

word count: 1.165 words.

warnings/tags: none. dad!bucky being overprotective with his baby soldier.

author notes: re-posted because tumblr deleted it for no reason. none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

“Soldat, stoy”.

(Soldier, stop).

Your eyes widened. Your heart raced. The time froze. That command clicked something in your brain, producing the spheres of flames concentrated on your palms to dwindle till disappearing. You had just one second to look around you, before turning at the firm tone of voice behind your back. You found yourself in the middle of Times Square, surrounded by different security forces, aiming at you with large-caliber weapons. Above your head, two helicopters were setting up a perimeter. The chaos spread around the long avenue. You didn't have an idea of how you ended up there, but you were scared like never before.

Turning slowly, your eyes landed on a pair of pale blue orbs. You didn’t notice the other people as a backup. A feeling of safety invaded you when he tilted his head confused, narrowing his eyes, trying to understand how it was possible that you were there. But before you could take a step closer to him, a twinge followed by an electric cramp shook your body. The last thing you heard before blacking out was an I got you, and a cold arm wrapping your abdomen.

BUCKY'S POV

Avengers Compound

06:03 pm, New York

“How do you know it’s not a trap set by Hydra?” Steve asked, reclining himself on his seat at the meeting table next to the rest of the Avengers.

“Because I trust her”. Bucky didn’t doubt replying, although he couldn’t understand why, hearing Stark clicking his tongue as he rolled his eyes.

“James, you don’t know her”. Natasha sighed, referring to the fact that being assassins together years ago meant nothing.

“I trained her. She owes me loyalty”.

“What’s that? Some kind of Stockholm Syndrome patented by Hydra?” Clint scoffed incredulously.

“Tell us what you know about her, Bucky. What you remember”. The captain asked his long-life friend, leaning on the table with both forearms rested against the edge of it.

The soldier gulped, deeply breathing, nodding his chin with his eyes lost somewhere on the dark oak. He explained how Vasily Karpov knew about you. An orphan with no family, no history, and a power of telepathy that allowed you to control the four elements as you pleased. Water, fire, earth, and air. From nowhere, your body could produce flames and throw them anywhere. Exactly the same you could do with water and air. Earth was different. Only by using your hands you could wild it as you want; creating earthquakes or holes, move it. The heroes around Bucky were stupefied. You were a potential danger.

Then, he told them about your skills. Karpov made him stay awake after killing Tony’s parents to train her. You were just a kid. And soon, you were a soldier with an angelic face who could kill anyone just by blinking your eyes. To tell the truth, the Winter Soldier was everything you had in this life. You two worked together, hand-to-hand, for more than ten years until he disappeared. With him out of the game, Hydra continued experimenting with you to replace him. But they reached a point where you couldn't bear the pain, losing control completely.

“Let me talk with her, please”. Bucky begged, touring his eyes around the people there.

“It’s too dangerous”. Vision affirmed, taking a position close to Tony.

“She. Owes. Me. Loyalty”. He repeated almost hissing, pointing out every word with his silver forefinger poking the table.

“You have five minutes before the Government brings her to the Raft”. Rhodes sentenced, crossing his arms on his chest. “Five minutes”.

Escorted by Steve and Wanda, who was the only one there that could control you, Bucky went down to the third sublevel. When the soporific made its effect and knocked you out in the middle of Manhattan, the Avengers managed to take you to their compound.

You were still stoned, but conscious enough to know what was happening around you. Everything spun inside the bunker. Your head hurt like hell and you felt a knot within the pit of your stomach that made you want to puke your guts. As the heavy door proffered a loud noise being opened you retreated to the farthest corner, placing your knees to your chest and wrapping your legs with both arms. Again, you were shaking. Terrified. About to beg for your life.

“Soldat, otchet o missii”.

(Soldier, mission report).

Your breathing became erratic as if the air wasn't enough to fill your lungs. You were at the edge of your crying, raising your hidden face from the gap of your knees. The Winter Soldier was standing some feet away from you. No expression on his face, as always, but with the small difference of a slight inkling of concern. He also looked skinnier, shorter hair, a grown beard. He looked healthier, free.

“Net zadaniya”. You whispered with a broken tone.

(No assignment).

“Soldat, otchet o missii”. He repeated taking a step ahead, hardening his voice.

(Soldier, mission report).

The command made you gulp a sob. Wasn’t he believing you? How could you lie to him?

“Net zadaniya”. You replied with no hesitation, standing on your bare feet and sticking your back to the wall. “Missiya ne naznachena”.

(No assignment. No mission assigned).

You noticed he wanted to turn to his partners, but he didn't. The soldier kept eye contact, coming a little more closer, invading your personal space without caring. He tilted his head forward, trying to find the answers to his questions in your orbs. But they both were emptied with the sole exception of the horror invading your chest and reflected on them. You didn't want to come back. You wanted to be released from Hydra's chain. You weren't an assassin, nor a monster.

“I wa… I was looking for… you”. Babbling, you confessed, being the explanation for why your mind took you to that place in concrete.

“Why?”

“Because you are the only person I have”.

His eyelids narrowed for a second, scanning your intentions, feeling frustrated by not finding anything hidden beneath your words. “Otchet o missii, soldat”.

(Mission report, soldier).

“Net zadaniya, Sergeant Barnes”.

(No assignment).

It was the first time you pronounced part of his real name since you met him many years ago and you could listen to his heartbeat increasing. Before you blinked, his metallic hand grabbed your throat and pinned you against the wall, watching the fury and the rage taking control over his grimace. Glancing above his shoulder, a redhead woman stopped the blonde man known as Captain America. Your gaze focused again on the soldier, loosening slowly the grip on your skin.

“Why don't you remember me?”

The last thing you knew about him was that the man behind him brought back the memories of his past life. His real life. But he was still looking at you with hate and revulsion. Of course, the Winter Soldier was conscious of who you were. What he had forgotten was how he felt about you. He didn't reply to your question, walking backward to the exit, leaving you there. Alone. Again.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it and/or reblog it.

author notes: what do you think about, after the two parts explaining the story, continuing it to explore the evolution of their relationship? do you like the idea? lemme know in a comment or send me an ask!

TAG LIST: @mystic-232 @homesicam @theresnoplatypus @i-love-scott-mccall @slutfornat @xx-marvelfanatic-xx @goldielocks2004 @whatrambles @the-mystery-spot @multiyfandomgirl40 @purrrrfect @spidergirla5 @wanniiieeee @fanofalltheficsx @spideysimpossiblegirl @nocturnalherb16 @jointhehunt67 @the-witty-pen-name @valenquei @golden-hoax @hunter-of-baker-street @missusstark @vhscherry @warm-sensations @edenxecho @addictedtofictionalcharacters @sarahsmcu @tinylumpiaa @amelia-song-pond @heartislubbingdubbing @stolenxkissess @clean-and-claire @winchestersgirl222 @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @diaryofkali @starrynite7114 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @skits90s @greeneyedblondie44 @phoenixhalliwell

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x you #bucky barnes #the winter soldier x reader #the avengers x reader

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ivybucky · 4 years ago

Text

somebody else - thor x fem!reader

Request by Anon: SUPER ANGSTY THOR X FEM!READER, please? I want to have a full-on breakdown, and the internet doesn't have enough Thor angst.

description: thor and y/n have been exploring their feelings for each other for the last year, but he always leaves to help out a 'friend' in the worst moments. y/n isn't stupid, but he seems to be ignorant to the fact that she's ready to love him now, not when it's convenient.

a/n: this is the first thor thing i've written in a very long time. i'm always in love with angst that ends in fluff, but that wasn't requested here. this hurts, and there's not a happy resolution.

CW: angst, sneaking around (no cheating), heartache, sad ending, implication of sex, some cuss words, naked bodies

Add Yourself to the Taglist

Masterlist

Discord link in Bio

author: abby</3

words: 1732

The warm sunlight filtering through the window is what wakes her. Soft sheets are tangled around her bare skin, twisting loosely around her thighs and stomach. Y/N reached her arms up, allowing her joints to crack and muscles to stretch, with a soft groan she kept contained in her mouth. Her gaze falls on the body next to her, a soft mess of blonde hair was a stark contrast to the white linen of the pillow. She smiled, remembering heat kisses, soft and firm touches, and sweet sounds that filled the space of her bedroom the night before.

Her body turned from her back to her side, allowing herself to take in the more peaceful face of the god of thunder. He had seen so much pain in his lifetime, she knew to enjoy the moments where he was blissful. Y/N brought her fingers to trail over the spanse of his back, nails scratching slightly at his own bare skin.

Thor hummed under her touch, smiling softly before opening his eyes to see the woman beside him. The deep timber of his voice vibrated against the mattress, “Good morning, my dove.”

She smiled, resting her palm against his skin. “Good morning, my darling.”

He chuckled, wrapped a toned arm around her middle before pulling her to his side. “This is my favorite version of you.”

Her laugh was bright, still holding onto the remnants of sleep. She gestured to the length of her body. “This?”

“Mmm yes,” his nose pressed its way into the crook of her neck, pulling a thigh over his body “Peaceful, beautiful, restful.”

“Don’t forget, utterly fucked out.” He pinches her bottom cheek, releasing a squeal from her mouth.

“Cheeky thing, you are.” She laughs again, pulling her body closer to his. Her fingers come up to tuck a loose strand of his hand behind his ears before caressing his bearded cheek.

“This is my favorite version of you as well.” Her voice is soft as she speaks, full of the love she’s grown accustomed to feeling around him. He tipped his mouth forward, catching her lips in his. Their kiss was lazy but firm, an expression of the emotions around them, in the quiet soft of the morning. They pull away from each other and Y/N’s gaze flickers between his eyes, searching for a recognition of the feelings swirling in her chest.

Her thumb brushed over his cheek bone, a rush of courage building in her chest. “Thor,” he smiled, kissing the palm of her hand. “Thor, I-”

His phone, the one he had gotten to stay in contact with those on Earth while he remained there, began to ring loudly. Y/N felt his body stiffen slightly as he let out a groan. “One moment, dove.”

He rolled over the mattress, checking the name on the phone, and sitting up quickly in recognition. “Hello?”

The voice on the phone was muffled enough for Y/N not to acknowledge it greatly, being only a little annoyed at her own due confession being interrupted, especially after almost a year. “What’s wrong?”

Y/N’s frown deepened at his words, a worry and concern she had not heard before etched in the tone of his question. He begins to dress quickly, throwing on the clothes he had worn before in a rush. “I’ll be there soon, don’t worry.”

He hangs up the phone as he continues to gather his things. “Thor?”

“I’m sorry, my dove,” he says without meaning. “My friend needs my help, I have to leave.”

“But I-”

“I’ll see you soon,” he moves towards, her pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.

Y/N watches with confusion etched on her face as he leaves her apartment with haste, her front door shutting loudly behind him. The room is now silent, disrupted of the peace she had held in her grasp only minutes before.

~~~~

He pulled her against his sweating body, kissing at her mouth sloppily with chuckle. She moaned softly before pulling away with a laugh. “Darling, you’re all gross.”

“And? I thought you liked me working out, dove.” He pinched her side gently as she turned to move into the kitchen. She laughed again, smirking in his direction.

“I like you working out with me and we’re sweating together,” she winked as she bent over to take a plate out of the dishwasher.

“Then why did we stop kissing?” he teased, hip resting against the countertop.

Her face scrunched in mock disgust. “You’re kind of smelly, hon. Take a shower and we’ll see about that.”

His deep chuckled echoed throughout the apartment as he walked into the bathroom. She smiled to herself, hearing the water of the shower turned on. She busied herself in the kitchen, putting away the dishes and picking up whatever she could.

She didn’t mean to look at his phone, she really didn’t. However, it was just an instinct to look at what created the noise as she passed it. Her whole body paused at the words that read on the screen.

Jane: Do you have time to talk? I have some more questions for you.

She could feel the frown deepening on her face. She knew Jane, well, of her. She knew what she was to Thor, and she knew how it hurt him for her to leave. She was unaware that Jane was still a part of his life, however. Someone who still reached out to him, someone he still communicated with. And now it stood blankly in her face.

She wondered how long she sat there, mulling over the information, before she heard the water turn off and move back to appearing to do work. He walked out of her bedroom, clothed and refreshed, looking as happy as he did when he walked through the door. He pulled her back to his chest, kissing her neck. “What about now, my dove?”

“Hmm?” she asked, distracted.

“Do you want to work out together?” his deep voice was husky in his ear. She turned around, pushing whatever thoughts she had out of her mind to focus on him. Her arms wrapped around his neck.

“Hmm,” she thought out loud. “You do smell a lot better.”

Before he could do anything, his phone sounded off again. He glanced over at the screen, before pulling away from her arms and picking it up to respond. Her heart raced at his movements as he pocketed the phone and looked at her with a sorry expression.

“I have to go help my friend,” his shoulders dropped slightly, taking in the dejected look on her face. “I’m sorry, my dove.”

“But we were-”

“I know,” he pressed a kiss to her forehead once more, grabbing his keys from the hook by the door. “I promise to make it up to you.”

And then he was gone.

As quickly and quietly as he left before, leaving Y/N to stand in the kitchen in silence, with confusion written on her face and anxiety bubbling in her chest.

~~~

“Hi darling, where are you?” She stood outside of the restaurant, feet pacing patiently on the sidewalk.

“Hello, my dove,” his voice was already apologetic.

“You’re not coming are you?”

He sighed heavily into the phone, and Y/N wanted to believe he regretted his decision. “I’m so sorry, my friend needs my-”

“It’s her, isn’t it?” she tried to keep her voice from wavering as she asked the questions she needed answers to. “Jane?”

His end of the line went silent. “Yes,” his voice was almost shaky, but after all the time, she didn’t believe it. “She’s been writing a paper on her discoveries about the realms. I’ve just been helping her.”

“If that’s all it was,” her voice shook in her throat. “Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“Dove,” she shut her eyes, trying to calm her emotions. “I just didn’t know how you would react.”

“Thor, I thought-” she paused, not wanting to finish her dark thought.

“Y/N, you know I would never-”

“I know,” she sighed, staring down at the ground. “But, what happens when I need you more? If I needed you now?”

His line went silent once more. Y/N let out a sigh once more.

“If this is it, if all you’re doing is helping her,” she turned her body, walking up the sidewalk back to her apartment. “Then we can talk about this more later. Just help her now, and I’ll see you soon.”

“Of course, my dove,” his voice was soft, in a way that just made her sad.

She hung up the phone and continued walking, letting the breeze from the evening weather calm her as it brushed against her face. She desperately tried to ignore the worry that filled her heart, knowing she loved his man to the ends of the earth already. But she knew what first loves could mean to people.

The streets were quiet in a busy way; nothing loud, but lots of soft noises, like the quiet murmur of people talking, or the bristling of the tree leaves. She made her way down the block, a nice enough night to not want to take a cab. Until she passed the bar.

She caught sight of his blond hair, the one she loved to run her fingers through when they laid on the couch together, moving from one end of the bar. She paused to watch, him bringing two glasses of a brown liquor over to her. Y/N had seen her face before, remembered it well enough to recognize her here. The thing that hurt the most was his smile.

After a year of being together, she had never been on the receiving end of that smile before. He thought he looked at her with adoration, but she could see now that he had never looked at her with that much love. And then his eyes shifted.

Y/N’s breath left her lungs as he made eye contact, expecting him to do something now that he had seen her. His smile faltered as he took in her watery eyes, but quickly regained his own composure as he turned his gaze back to Jane.

She turned and continued walking, tears falling freely now as she recognized what it meant, what it would always mean. She would always be second to his first.

Forever tags: @avengers-do-it-better @maisondumepris @hamiltonwrite12

#thor angst #thor x reader #thor odinson x reader #thor x fem!reader #thor odinson x fem!reader #thor odinson angst #thor request #thor odinson request #marvel #mcu

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years ago

Text

Learning to Swim

Request: (whenever you have time of course.) What about a post-war draco malfoy x reader where after astoria dies draco and scorpius are left alone for a couple years then he sees y/n a friend from Hogwarts and they fall in love again (you can decide how). this is my vision and I'm a sucker for post-war fics with draco. 🥺💕 - @obx-beach

A/N: I LOVED THIS REQUEST SO MUCH. Thank you so much for requesting it and for trusting me with your request! It got away from me but I really wanted to explore this idea in depth because for me, anyway, grief isn't something that disappears over time, but rather, becomes bearable. Please read the warnings before reading, I cover some heavy topics. As always, I hope you like it!

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: heavy talk of grief and loss, some swearing, mentions of food, alcohol consumption, mentions of ghosts, a very cheesy ending.

Word count: 11.9k

Draco so rarely finds peace nowadays; a consequence of a confidently walking toddler who’s penchant for curiosity has him grabbing at what he can – the paper, the rug, the dog’s tail.

Draco so rarely find peace nowadays, but once a week, on a Saturday, he drops Scorpius off at his parents. His mother and father doting over the blonde-haired boy who looks more like his mother everyday despite the argument from Narcissa – “He has your nose, Draco!”

On the days he drops his son off at the manor, he apparates to the familiar black gates. They squeak whenever he opens them and no matter how many times he visits, he never remembers to bring the oil he promises to fetch.

Now, he doesn’t look at the names as he makes his way towards the familiar row, hands in his pockets, shoes sinking in the wet grass.

Before, he’d drag his feet. Reading every name he could as he struggled to come to terms with his disbelief and grief.

The granite headstone sits prettily above its plot; the marker for Draco to slow his pace to an amble.

She had died a Malfoy but had been buried in the Greengrass plot.

Draco had known of Astoria Greengrass for years; had been schooled with her sister but had known the family personally for years due to similar social circles, and as a result, social functions. Draco spent ball after ball getting to know the younger Greengrass sister much to the chagrin of Pansy Parkinson who still held a candle for Draco since their fling ended in Fifth Year.

He worked up the nerve to ask Astoria to dinner after a particularly hellish function where his father had pushed him to dance with every available girl that looked his way. For the most part, Draco accepted – wanting to keep his father happy and his mother hopeful. But through every dance, through every twirl on the floor, his eyes would wander back to where Astoria sat very intently focused on the napkin design.

On his third circuit of the dancefloor, Draco broke away from his dance partner earning a glare for his disrespect. He apologised with a smile but turned to the brunette sitting alone; he held his hand to her, and she took it with the grace of a well-raised daughter.

They span around the dancefloor; circle after circle after circle. They laughed, and they smiled, and they settled into a happy silence. One Draco felt so comfortable in that by the time they had finished their second dance together, Draco was certain he wanted to marry her.

By the end of the night, Astoria knew she wanted to marry him.

They were married less than six months after that night.

Three months after they were married, Astoria announced her pregnancy. Rumours started; stating that was the real cause for their quick wedding. But their families knew different; their families spent the entirety of the pregnancy wrapped in a cocoon of worry.

Then blood curse on the Greengrass family meant that Astoria would die at a young age, and Draco had prepared himself for that. Though, in private, he researched what he could to see if he could break the blood curse. This meant, however, the pregnancy was watched closely by Narcissa, by Daphne, and by multiple Healers flooed in from St Mungos.

Nine months later, on an unusually warm day in January, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was born. Immediately, Draco knew that though he had his hair, Scorpius had his mother’s eyes and mouth.

Three hours after the birth of her son; as she held him tightly in her arms, watching him with the love only a mother could know, Astoria Malfoy nee Greengrass took her last breath.

-----------

The months after her death, Draco barely coped. He woke up in the mornings solely for Scorpius and Scorpius alone. He devoted his time to his son, marking every milestone in his baby scrapbook which on occasion he would take to his wife’s grave and go through it with her. Scorpius never visited the grave; for starters, he was too young, Draco wouldn’t let his son go through that but his son knew that his mother was no longer with them.

But that didn’t stop Scorpius asking for his mother after a nightmare had pulled him from sleep.

Narcissa tried to help; tried everything she could to help with his grief – at one point even suggesting he go see a psychic, but the fear of transference was enough to put Draco off the idea.

He didn’t have the heart to tell his mother that he didn’t need a psychic to tell him Astoria had made it to the other side and that she had found peace.

She haunted him nearly every night.

Flashes of her white night gown in the corner of his eye; glimpses of her beautiful face in the mirror.

His heart would race, and his palms would sweat as the panic set in.

For a long while, he believed himself to be going insane. The sheer grief he felt at the loss of his wife driving him to madness as though he were Heathcliff suffering the loss of his Cathy.

------

Draco had memorised the inscription on her headstone after visiting for a month straight.

He had memorised the path to her grave by the end of the first week; the soil still needing to settle.

His feet knew where the uneven ground would be, so it was all dodged expertly.

Draco has very little to say to Astoria when he kneels in front of her. He updates her on Scorpius; promises that he will bring him soon, but it was still too early for his son to see his mother.

In fact, most of his time at the grave is spent in silence. His knees soaking wet from the morning dew still covering the grass.

“Draco? Is that you?” A chiming voice asks as Draco’s head remains bent over his wife’s grave. He releases a sigh before looking up to see that it’s you – someone he hasn’t seen in years. The last he saw of you; you were stood defiantly facing the hordes of Death Eaters in courtyard at Hogwarts.

“(Y/N)?” He asks.

You frown, pointing towards the grave where his wife lies in perpetual sleep, “I heard, but I didn’t believe. I’m sorry for your loss, Draco.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs, “Why are you here? If you don’t mind me asking.”

You hold the flowers in your hand up in response, “I lost my grandfather less than a year back. I visit every week.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. He was a great man.” Draco murmurs, shame washing over him from his curt tone.

“Thank you,” You murmur quietly, “It’s still hard.”

Draco wants to offer words of comfort; to tell you that pain eases over time, but he would be lying to your face. The pain doesn’t ease, and the grief doesn’t lessen, it simply moves to one side and becomes bearable until something reminds you of the one you’ve lost whether it be a sound or a smell and then the pain washes over you like a tidal wave and you start to wonder whether you’ll come up for air or simply drown.

Draco decides not to say anything; turning back to face the woman he had pledged his life too.

You walk away after a slow nod; you wouldn’t get anything more out of him now.

-----

They say that time heals, that grief lessens, but it doesn’t.

Draco loves his son; he adores his son, but he cannot help but see him as a reminder of what he lost on the day of his birth.

He had gained a son; an heir to carry on the Malfoy name but he had lost the love of his life.

Draco leaves the graveyard soon after his encounter with you; feeling surly with how he had spoken to you.

He searches you before he leaves, but he finds you knelt at the grave of your grandfather with your head bent as the silent sobs rack your body.

He leaves you to your privacy; understanding that right now, intrusion is the last thing needed.

------------

Draco sits in the living room of his marital home that night; a tumbler of whisky in his hand as he leans back in the chesterfield armchair gifted to him by his parents as part of their wedding present.

The wedding present being the house.

There are reminders of Astoria all over the house; from the pattern of the curtains to her photos lining the walls. She was everywhere. How was he was supposed to start living his life when his house remained a mausoleum?

He feels the hand on his shoulder; he doesn’t need to turn to see who it is.

“You need to stop doing this, Draco,” She murmurs.

He sighs through his nose, “I don’t see why.”

“You’re hurting everyone around you; you didn’t use to be like this.”

“It’s been a trying time, love.”

“I know it has. For both you and Scorpius, but it’s been three years, darling.”

The air in the room has become cold; too cold. To the point where his breath has started to fog; he takes a sip of the amber liquid to warm his body through.

“I can’t forget you, I won’t. He has no memories of you; he needs me to remember you.”

The voice behind him shakes, “My love, you’ll never forget me. I live on in him.”

Draco doesn’t say anything; the lump in his throat making it impossible for him to speak. The absolute yearning with him has him reaching up to take the hand settled on his shoulder.

The tears start to fall when his hand falls through the ghostly spectre.

-----

Morning comes and Draco wakes in the same chair he had fallen asleep in. He scratches at the stubble lining his face as he stretches his legs, bones popping as he stands to full height.

The clock on the mantle chimes seven times and Draco supposes he should start the day and collect his son from the Manor. He hadn’t been in any state last night to have him at home; it was better for Scorpius to stay with his grandparents.

The light to the bathroom flickers as Draco drags himself into the shower; the hot water and lavender shower gel doing a good job at leeching the tension that had become set into his shoulders.

He wipes the steam from the mirror before lathering his face with shaving cream and beginning the soothing action of shaving. Narcissa preferred him clean shaven anyway; believed that the stubble made him look like a vagrant.

A flash of white in the corner of his eye has Draco freezing with the razor halfway to his cheek.

His hand begins to shake, and he places the razor back in the sink as he braces himself on the counter. He counts to ten before he dares to look back up at himself in the mirror.

He was being haunted.

------

In the years after the Second Wizarding War, Narcissa had taken it upon herself to entirely renovate Malfoy Manor from the dark, dank place it was to make it more of a home for her family. A home in which Draco should have been raised in.

Narcissa greets him at the door with a kiss on the cheek and a concerned look that only a mother could pull off.

“Good Morning Mother, how are we today?”

“I’d be a lot better if you looked better. Did you get any sleep?”

Draco nods, thinking to the few hours in the armchair, “I got some.”

“Not enough by the looks of it, but at least you shaved. Have you eaten yet?”

He shakes his head, “I came straight here.”

“Luckily for you, Scorp is still eating.”

Draco hangs his coat on the grand railing by the door before following his mother through his childhood home.

His son beams at the sight of his father walking through the door, “Dad!” he yells, dropping his piece of fruit and jumping off his chair. He runs to Draco, wrapping his arms around his legs.

Draco chuckles, picking his son up, settling him on his waist, “Hey there squirt, did you have a nice night with granny and grandpa?”

Scorpius nods, still chewing his last piece of breakfast, “Yeah, me and granny baked, and she let me eat the mix!”

Narcissa lets out an overdramatic gasp, “That was our secret, Scorp!”

Scorpius laughs at his granny’s reaction, “I had to tell Dad!”

Draco tickles his son’s stomach; grinning at the laughter leaving his son’s mouth.

He had never known a world with his mother; and he never would, yet here he was as happy as any three year old could be.

“Are you joining us, Draco?” His father’s voice sounds; breaking Draco from his melancholy.

Draco clears his throat, letting Scorpius down so he can sit next to Narcissa at the table, “Yes, I think I will.”

Anything to not go back to the house so soon; anything to avoid seeing her in the corner of his eye or in the mirrors.

Narcissa nails him with a look she has made entirely her own after dealing with a supremacist order for over a decade.

Draco wavers under his mother’s stare; ready to drop the pretence and cry in her arms.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he grabs the bowl of strawberries and scoops a spoonful onto his plate before reaching for a waffle and grabbing his knife and fork.

“Lucius, darling, why don’t you show Scorpius your matchbox collection? I know he’d love them.”

“What are matched boxes?” Scorpius asks.

Narcissa laughs lightly at her grandson’s pronunciation, “Match boxes, sweetheart.”

Lucius stands from the table; knowing very well what the determined look in his wife’s eyes meant, “Come on, my boy. I’ll show you my collection; I want to see if you can count how many there are.”

Scorpius’ eyes light up at the chance to make his grandfather proud; he jumps down from the chair before reaching to grab Lucius’ hand. Together, they leave the dining room, Lucius prattling about the history of the match box and why they needed to be collected.

Narcissa waits until they’re out of earshot before turning on her son who on the outside, almost pulled off looking so put together. Inside, she knew, was a broken man desperate to find a way to lessen the pain.

“It’s been three years, darling.”

“I know,” Draco answers; resisting the urge to groan.

“How often are you visiting her?”

“Once a week now.”

There was a point in the first months after her death where Draco would visit the graveyard every day for hours. He didn’t even say anything; he just sat on the perfectly trimmed grass in front of her grave and sobbed for the life that had been lost and the future that had been robbed.

Narcissa nods, “That’s good, Draco.”

Draco nods; he had gotten better in the years since her passing but Narcissa would never understand what it feels like to lose a spouse a year into a marriage that should have lasted an eternity.

Narcissa sighs, “Do you think it’s time now?”

“Time for what?” He asks; voice hard.

“To think about finding somebody else? I’m not saying you need to do it right now, Draco, but it’s something to think about.”

Draco sees red, but he tries to keep a lid on his temper for the simple fact that it is his mother sitting in front of him, “I lost my wife, mother. She died giving birth to my son; your grandson. She died and now Scorpius doesn’t have a mother and I don’t have my wife standing beside me. I think I’ll take all the time I need to recover from this.”

Narcissa sighs, “Of course, Draco. You know I didn’t mean it as an insult.”

Draco rubs at his eyes; feeling wretched for the way he had spoken to his mother. She barely left his side after Astoria’s death; she had been the one to pull him away from her body.

“I’m sorry, mother. It was a tough night.”

“You’re having a lot of those, I’ve noticed.”

Draco’s lip begins to wobble, and he thanks Merlin that Scorpius is out of the room, so he didn’t have to watch his father fall to pieces.

Narcissa folds her son into her arms with the care only a mother could show. She strokes his hair as he sobs against her.

“I didn’t think it would be this hard,” Draco sobs.

“Neither did we, my love.”

-----

Draco feels better after talking to his mother. Lucius returned fairly quickly after Draco had dried his eyes; Scorpius following on his tail, chattering about what he planned to do when he returned home.

Draco opens his arms for his son who happily falls into them; preferring to be carried rather than walking unless he was running around the gardens or the park.

“Do you have everything you need?” Draco asks his son.

Scorpius nods as Lucius holds up the small overnight bag that holds his clothes, pyjamas and his priceless teddy, Wellesley. It was the first thing Astoria brought when she found out she was pregnant. Scorpius treasured it like nothing else.

Draco takes the bag from his father; well aware of the extra treats hidden there. Scorpius had Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy wrapped around his little finger.

After they apparate home, Lucius and Narcissa watch the spot in which their son and grandson disappeared. Hands clutching the other; both worried sick over their only son.

-----

He fills his week with his son; adventures, hide-and-seek, visits to the library. Draco makes sure Scorpius fills his day with activities designed to educate but to also have fun.

It’s also a way for Draco to keep his mind drifting to the one person who no matter how he often prays and wishes, will always remain absent.

The park is one of Scorpius’ favourite places to visit. He has a personal aim to swing as high as he can without giving his father a heart attack.

They spend their hours doing all sorts together, and every night before bed, Draco tucks Scorpius in tightly. Dropping a kiss to his son’s head and then his teddy’s head, Draco wishes Scorpius the sweetest of dreams.

On a night, Draco lets the memories of his short marriage consume him. He doesn’t wear his wedding ring on his finger anymore, but rather, attached to a chain he wears around his neck. He twists this chain for hours on a night thinking of the mother that Astoria never got the chance to be.

------

Draco’s visit to the graveyard is shorter this week on account of what happened last time. He knew what happened in the living room was down to the fact that he had spent too much time at her grave, lamenting how much he missed her.

It was expected that she would answer his calls.

So he resolves to make this visit shorter; long enough to clean the area and replace the flowers but short enough to not tempt fate and spectres.

Draco recounts to her tales of Scorpius’ week. Draco laughs and beams like a proud father when he tells the story of Scorpius adopting the family of Nifflers from their copse at the bottom of the garden. He had been so proud of himself; walking all the way back to the house with a four Nifflers in tow who had deemed Scorpius as one their own.

“You’d have thought he was a Scamander,” Draco laughs, patting the loose grass from his suit pants. “I think he could very well excel at Care of Magical Creatures but it’s too soon to tell, my dear.”

Eventually, Draco stands, wiping down his black suit trousers and whispering a goodbye.

Draco is a few steps away from the black, creaky gate when you bustle through; bouquet in hand, sad smile on your face.

You pause in the gateway when you see Draco standing before you.

“(Y/N),” Draco greets, “I was hoping to catch you. I wanted to apologise for how I spoke to you the last time I saw you.”

“Draco, there’s nothing to apologise for. You’re mourning your wife; the last thing you need is someone invading that space.”

“All the same, I’m sorry for how I spoke to you.”

“I accept your apology, Draco.”

“Would you like to join me for a coffee? It’s been years since I saw you last, and I think it would be nice to catch up.”

You glance between the flowers in your hand and Draco waiting patiently for an answer.

“It’s okay if you don’t. I understand if you want to be with your grandfather.”

You bite your lip, glancing back to the flowers, “Do you want to come with me? All I need to is say hello and change the flowers. You don’t have to, though.”

Draco shakes his head, “No, it’s okay. I’ve had my visit today, so I don’t mind waiting with you.”

You smile at him gratefully, “Thank you; he’s just this way.”

Draco follows you as you walk the well-trodden path to your grandfather’s grave. He doesn’t let himself think as he follows, and as a result, almost bumps into you when you stop in front of a grey granite headstone.

“Hi Grandad,” You greet, “I’ve brought someone with me today, I hope you don’t mind. I’m just changing your flowers though because then we’re going to get coffee.”

You turn your attention to Draco when you finish speaking, “It’s morbid I know but it helps me process. I know he isn’t hearing me, but I can vent here and somehow I always find a solution to my problem.”

Draco nods, “I do the same with Astoria. I tell her about Scorpius and her parents though I know they visit just as much.”

You smile at the blonde-haired man before discarding the dried out flowers to one side, replacing them with the fresher, brighter flowers.

Draco watches you through the process; not missing the way your eyes dart between the headstone and to something just past it.

For a brief moment, Draco wonders if you’re being haunted too.

-----

The coffee shop is warm compared to the brisk wind that howls outside. Draco’s body relaxes as he takes in the familiar scent of bitter coffee beans; it was a recent love of his, but now, he wouldn’t find himself going a day without a cup of the acrid liquid.

You unravel the scarf hanging around your neck before taking a seat at a corner table, “I didn’t think it would be this cold today. It makes me glad I overdressed,” you chuckle.

Draco laughs politely; his own coat now hanging on the back of his chair.

You smile, “Do you know what you want? I’ll go order.”

“Nonsense, I’ll order, I invited you here.”

“Well I won’t turn down free coffee, I’ll have a latte please.”

“I’ll be right back,” is all he says before leaving the table to order.

As the drinks are being made by the teenaged barista, Draco starts to second-guess his intentions for why he asked you for coffee in the first place. All week the conversation he had with his mother had been replaying in his mind, and then he runs into you as he’s leaving the graveyard. Before he knew it, the words were flying out of his mouth and he was unable to stop them.

He’s panicking, but he doesn’t find himself regretting asking you.

He’s only regretting his intentions as to why he asked you.

He’s been alone for three years. He has Scorpius, and his parents, but he doesn’t have anyone he can talk to on a night when the air is quiet, and the moon is high. He doesn’t have that one person that he can simply hold and know that everything will be okay.

Then and there, he lets himself admit it: he’s lonely.

Astoria had been everything for the eighteen months they had been together. He was utterly devoted to her; completely besotted by her. Draco knew that he had found the love of his life; he just didn’t expect her to be taken from him so soon.

But still he wonders.

He wonders if it’s time; he wonders whether Astoria watches him and urges him to find someone new.

To feel that rush of falling in love all over again.

The clinking of mugs rips Draco from his internal debating. He thanks the barista with a smile, picking up the tray of drinks and walking carefully back to where you wait for him.

You thank him as you pick up your latte, “You looked to be thinking pretty intensely over there.”

“You were watching me?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you say, “I got bored of the view of the café.”

Draco nods; sipping tentatively at his coffee, wincing before adding another sugar to taste.

“What were you thinking of? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t mind. I was thinking of Astoria,” he admits.

You simply nod your head; understanding completely that a widow would think of his loss.

“How are you coping with her loss? It’s been a few years now, hasn’t it?”

“I could ask you the same question about your grandfather,” Draco murmurs, “We’re coping okay. Scorpius is thriving; he’s such a smart three year old and I know I’m biased but he retains information like a sponge.”

You laugh, “I was going to ask you about your son, I’m glad to hear he’s happy.”

“He doesn’t have any memories of his mother, but he knows who she is. He has a framed picture of her in his room that he says goodnight to every night.”

“He sounds precious, Draco.”

Draco nods; thinking of his dear boy, “He is. And I know she’s proud of him, I just feel it in my bones.”

“I’ll bet my last sickle that she’s proud of you too.”

Draco blinks fast; ridding the sudden tears away. “Thank you,” he whispers, taking another drink of his coffee to distract from the sudden wave of emotion.

He clears his throat once the wave has passed, “I asked you here to catch up; not for me to ruin the mood with my grief. How have you been? I haven’t seen you since the war.”

“You can talk to me about this, Draco, I don’t mind,” You state before continuing, “I’ve been well – I travelled a lot after the war. The whole realisation of life is short really hit me, so I left the country for a bit; travelled through Europe before jumping ship to America.”

Draco’s eyes widen, “That’s incredible. Where was your favourite place to travel?”

You glare at him playfully, “That’s such a hard question!”

He laughs lightly, “Still – you have to answer.”

You tap your fingers against your thigh, thinking his question over. You had loved everywhere you visited; feeling extremely fortunate to have met such a range of magical communities as well as integrate yourself within muggle society for a time.

“I think it would have to be this tiny island in Greece; it is said that in ancient times, the locals believed it was the end of the world, and if you went any further, you would fall off. I stayed there the longest; around a month where I explored the island, ate their food, and drank with the locals. It was the best time of my life.”

Draco inhales sharply at your words; not realised that he’s instinctively leaned towards you through your speech. He leans back into his chair, running a hand through his hair, “It sounds wonderful,” he whispers.

You nod; eyes glazed somewhat as you think back to your time on that heavenly island, “It really was.”

You shake yourself from your reminiscing, “What about you then, Draco? I know about the wedding, and your son, but what did you do after the war?”

Draco waves his hand in a nonchalant fashion, “Nothing as wonderful as travelling the globe though I did go to France on my honeymoon. I trained as a Healer straight from Hogwarts; I’ve been at St. Mungo’s since Scorpius was born.”

“That’s great, Draco! I always knew you would make a great Healer ever since I saw you in Potions.”

Draco ducks his head, “Thank you, I enjoy the work. Are you working now?”

You nod your head, “I work for the Daily Prophet; writing real articles and not the trollop that Rita Skeeter used to waffle on about.”

Draco barks out a laugh, surprising himself at the volume of it, “I remember her coverage of the Triwizard Tournament! It was so awful.”

You beam; eyes bright with joy, “Weren’t they? I promise I’m a much better writer… not to sound big-headed.”

“I completely believe you; I’ll have to start keeping an eye out for your articles. I haven’t read the paper in so long. I haven’t had the time if I’m honest – I get my news from my mother.”

“How are your parents? I heard about them after the war.”

“Mother coped so well. She made it her mission to entirely renovate the house, and with it, the Malfoy reputation. She donates to charities now; her focus is children orphaned during the war. Father struggled, but he’s found his purpose for life again in Scorpius. Last time I was there, he showed him his collection of matchboxes.”

You laugh lightly, “That’s brilliant. I’m glad to hear that they’re doing well.”

“How is your family? I remember your mother from Kings Cross, always running to meet you off the train.”

“She’s doing okay,” You sigh, “She struggled after my grandfather but she’s working her way back to herself.”

Draco nods in understanding; he felt nothing but pride and a sting of jealously for your mothers process with her grief. Here he was, three years later, and still reaching out to the other side of bed only to grasp at empty, cold sheets.

However, as all things must, your time together comes to an end. The coffees are drank; coats are pulled back on and goodbyes are said on the pavement.

Draco walks away from you; apparating back to his home feeling lighter than he has in years.

------

Draco takes Scorpius to Diagon Alley on a Wednesday morning.

His son had been particularly restless the night before; a nightmare waking him. Draco does what he can to chase the monsters away before scooping up his only son and carrying him to the master bedroom. Scorpius sleeps soundly after that, but Draco remains awake – mind plaguing him with memories of Astoria but also of the coffee he shared with you.

It’s noon when Scorpius begins to pester his father for lunch. In his own words; he’s starving, and he hasn’t eaten in hours.

Draco laughs at his son. Three years old, but utterly dramatic. He kneels down so he’s eye-level, “How about we have ice cream for lunch?”

Scorpius’ face lights up and he begins to jump in his spot, “Can we go now? Please?”

Draco nods, holding out his hand for Scorpius take so he doesn’t get lost in the short distance to Florean Fortescue’s. He had lost him once; and whilst it was only two minutes before he found him, it was two minutes, he never wants to relive.

Draco lifts Scorpius so he can see the rows of flavours behind the glass. Scorpius’ eyes are wide as he checks the colour of every flavour. He even goes so far to press his face to the glass, fogging it up. Draco chuckles at his son’s antics; knowing full well he’ll pick the same flavour he’s gotten on every visit.

“Have you decided?”

Scorpius nods, “Chocolate please.”

Draco places Scorpius on the ground, “One chocolate tub, and one caramel fudge swirl tub please.”

Florean nods at the young Malfoy family with a large smile; watching them sit down at a window table before bringing their ice creams to them.

Scorpius attacks his chocolate tub with ferocity. Draco touches his son’s hand, “Slow down, squirt. You’ll get stomach ache.”

Scorpius looks as if he doesn’t believe his father’s word but not wanting to risk the chance of a stomach ache, he slows his pace. Carefully scooping the frozen treat before eating. His legs swing as he watches the scores of witches and wizards passing; they all look to be hurrying somewhere yet Scorpius doesn’t know where, but seeing all the different people, keeps his attention squarely on the window.

Draco works his way through his ice cream faster than his son; his weakness being the caramel fudge swirl that Florean makes fresh every day. He settles for drifting once his tub is empty and Scorpius is happily distracted by whatever he’s watching out of the window.

Draco begins to wonder about his son’s future – something he’s done a thousand times since his birth. He wonders about what Hogwarts house would best fit his sons personality; though he knew that the Sorting Hat would be the final word on that. But Draco can’t help but ponder over what attributes his son will demonstrate – will he ambitious enough for Slytherin? Courageous enough for Gryffindor? Loyal enough for Hufflepuff? Creative enough for Ravenclaw?

He had eight more years to ponder over it, but it’s still a question he’d like answered. However, Draco would still adore his son no matter his house.

“Draco?” Your voice sounds, breaking him out of his deliberating.

“(Y/N),” He greets.

Scorpius turns from people-watching, taking in the visitor standing at their table.

“And you must be Scorpius, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N).”

Scorpius shies away slightly from the new person, inching back a bit in his chair.

“It’s okay, Scorpius,” Draco reassures, “I went to school with (Y/N).”

You nod, “I did! I was in Slytherin with him, and he was so smart! He still is; he’s a Healer isn’t he? Isn’t that so cool?”

Draco blushes at your compliments but it brings Scorpius out of his shell.

“My dad is the coolest! He fixes people when they are very sick.”

You nod seriously, “Yes, he does. It was very nice to meet you, Scorpius but I have to get back to work with my ice cream.”

Scorpius smiles, his teeth on show, “Goodbye!”

“It was nice to see you, Draco,” You say, smiling at the blonde-haired man.

“It was nice to see you too, even if it was so brief.”

You laugh, “Work calls I’m afraid, but I always have an ice cream, so I wasn’t going to let work stop me,” You wander back to the counter where Florean waits with your cone, “I’ll also cover Draco’s bill too, Florean.”

“You don’t have to,” Draco begins to protest.

You hold your hand up, smiling gently, “You treated me to coffee. I’ll treat you to your ice cream.”

Draco nods, wordlessly. Scorpius watches him with his eyebrows furrowed.

You take a lick of your cone, “I’ll see you soon, Draco. Have a nice day, Scorpius!”

And like that, you leave the ice cream parlour, heading back to the office where a pile of work awaits.

Draco leans back in his chair, disbelief clear on his face.

“What’s wrong, dad?”

Draco shakes his head, “Nothing, squirt.”

Scorpius shrugs, determining it adult stuff. “I like the lady who spoke to us.”

“(Y/N)?”

Scorpius nods, “She was really nice.”

“She is. She was nice when we were at school together.”

“She’s a good friend.”

“She is,” Draco murmurs once again, mind in another place entirely.

Scorpius lets his father have his moment; turning back to the window, wondering if he might get to see the nice lady named (Y/N) again.

------

Two months pass, and January’s winter gives way to March’s spring.

The gardens at his home and at the Manor have started to bloom beautifully meaning that Draco is constantly surrounded by floral aromas that make his head spin and Scorpius sneeze.

Draco starts to see more and more of you at the graveyard. After each visit, you seem to wait for the other – always asking whether the other would like to go for a coffee; very rarely refusing the offer.

He enjoyed the time he spent with you; Draco felt like he got to make up for the lost time he was an arsehole at Hogwarts.

The more time he spent with you; the more he started to feel the urge to begin his life again. But the hauntings continue; he continues to see his wife in the mirror; hearing her voice on a night whispering to him that it’s okay to move on. But hearing those words from the mouth of the woman he promised an eternity with racks his entire body with guilt.

But it’s gotten to the point where he doesn’t want to stay away from you.

The more time you spend with Draco Malfoy; the more you can feel yourself fall for him – his smile, his eyes, his mind. You just hoped that the landing wasn’t going to be too rough.

------

Draco drops Scorpius off at the Manor before heading to the graveyard for his usual Saturday visit. He blindly hopes to see you again after running into you at the ice cream parlour and seldom seeing you after but refuses to let himself dwell too long on the hope.

He was visiting his dead wife, after all.

He still grieves for her; still reaches for her in the middle of the night, but there are times through the day where he doesn’t feel so weighed down by grief – where he feels as if he can begin functioning fully once again.

But then that brings the guilt.

And that leads to the sightings.

And then that leads to the visits.

It’s a vicious cycle, and he’s desperate to break it.

He knows logically that Astoria would always be a part of him; he sees her every time he lays eyes on Scorpius but the small voice in the back of his head tells him often that he isn’t ready to let go yet.

And all Draco is desperate to know is: when?

-----

You find him knelt before her grave. He’s silent; simply staring at her headstone, reading the words that are already seared into his mind: Beloved Daughter, Wife, and Mother.

You place your hand on his shoulder and he jumps at the sudden contact. He relaxes once he sees it’s you, “(Y/N),” he breathes out, “I thought you were someone else.”

“I can tell,” you murmur, “Are you okay?”

He nods silently; gazing at the headstone once again, “I will be.”

“I can stay with you, if you need me.”

He shakes his head, “Go. Go see your grandfather; tell him hi from me.”

You want to laugh but nothing comes out. Draco looks at you; his blue eyes bright, “I’ll be okay,” he says gently.

The softness of his voice has you stepping away, “You know where I’ll be if you need me.”

Draco nods, hearing you walk away from him.

He’s a man made entirely of conflictions. He watches you from the corner of his eye and wonders whether he is finally ready to start his life again after Astoria; ready press play once more and see what happens but the sheer fear that runs through him, paralyses him.

He doesn’t know what to think; he doesn’t know what to do.

All he knows is that in the handful of times he has seen you, you make him want to live again.

----

Your time with your grandfather comes to an end, and you stand from where you had knelt, murmuring a goodbye.

You can’t miss the way Draco remains in front of his wife’s grave. Standing just after you; stretching out the tight muscles in his back that had stiffened the longer he had sat there.

You sigh at the sight; mindlessly wondering if you would ever find a love that would impact you this much.

It was unintentional; it hadn’t meant to happen but the feelings you once harboured for the Slytherin Prince were returning in full force the more you saw of him.

But now, there was so much more to consider.

At Hogwarts, it was social groups that kept you from ever revealing your crush – that, and Pansy Parkinson. Now, though, Draco was a widower still very much in love with his dead wife, and he had a son that came first.

You know you need to tread carefully, but there was something addicting about the man’s presence. His way with words; his hand gestures; how he’d slip off into his own mind – it all had you caught; you were hook, line, and sinker.

You make your way back to the blonde-haired man, “What do you say to another coffee? I wish I could have stayed longer the last time I saw you, but work, you know?”

Draco nods; looking very much as if he wants to accept – the words being on the very tip of his tongue, but he sighs heavily, “I can’t today, I need to grab my son from my parents.”

“Oh,” You shake your head – of course, “Another time then! I’d like to see you again soon.”

You make to walk away but a hand reaches out and grabs your wrist, “Would you like to come with me? I need to grab Scorpius but we’re making dinner tonight and you’re welcome to join.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“You won’t be. Scorpius has been asking about you.”

That makes your decision for you, “Alright, I’ll join you for dinner.”

Draco smiles; letting go of his hold on your wrist, “I usually apparate to the manor, do you mind?”

You shake your head, placing a gentle hand on his outstretched arm.

Within a second, you’ve landed at the seat of Malfoy power for the last century. Draco was right you realise; Narcissa had lightened the manor up. Flowers border the main path; stemming from Hyacinths to white Lilies, to Irises. Colour lives up the home immediately, and the warm light coming from the masses of windows only makes the place more welcoming.

“I remember visiting here when I was a youngster,” You start, “I remember it being cold and uninviting… no offence, but now it feels so warm and happy.”

“That’s my mother’s influence,” Draco states; smiling wryly at the sight of all the flowers, knowing too well of the masses of Roses behind the manor.

Draco sounds the knocker three times before Narcissa pulls open the door with the smile reserved only for her son. She blinks twice before registering your presence; then she needs to do a double take.

“Afternoon, Mother,” Draco greets; leaning in to kiss her cheek which Narcissa returns distractedly – her eyes still on you.

“Draco, dear,” She greets, “And who have you brought with you?”

“Straight to the crux, aren’t we?” Draco laughs, “This is (Y/N). Surely you remember her?”

“Not Anthony’s granddaughter?”

You nod your head; ignoring the spear of grief flung through you at the sound of your grandfather’s name, “The very same,” you greet, “It’s lovely to be here. I was just mentioning to Draco how gorgeous your flowers are.”

Narcissa beams; her flowers are her pride and joy other than the son who had battled so much and came out the other side only stronger. “Thank you, my dear. Lucius and I were so saddened to hear of Anthony’s passing – tell me, how is your mother doing?”

“Better, thank you. She took his death as a blow – well, we all did but she took it the hardest being the only daughter and losing my grandmother so young.”

Narcissa nods; ushering you into the foyer of the grand manor, “We sent flowers, but we’re sorry we couldn’t make it to the service.”

A lumps forms in your throat at the mention of the service. It had been a beautiful and respectful service, but your memories of it were tied with the heart-clenching sobs of your mother as he cried about how she missed her father. It was a hard day and night for all; very few had dry eyes.

Draco notices your hesitancy at replying to his mother; notices the glazed look in your eye. He wraps his arm around Narcissa’s shoulder, distracting her from asking you any more questions, “How was Scorpius today?”

“Like always, an angel,” Narcissa coos, “Lucius has started to teach him French.”

“French? So early?” Draco asks; keeping a wary eye on you.

“Nonsense, my love. You were three when we started to teach you the basics.”

“You speak French?” You ask; mind now focused back onto the conversation. You shoot a grateful look to draco; he replies with a soft, kind smile.

Narcissa nods, “Most of our family does. Draco has spoken French fluently since he was nine years old.”

“Oui, maman,” Draco responds cheekily.

Narcissa playfully hit her son’s shoulder, “Hush you. Scorpius is with your father in the Library – shall we go grab him?”

Draco nods; desperate to see his son after hours apart, “Are you okay to follow?” he asks, throwing a glance to where you remain rooted.

You shake yourself free; banishing all thoughts of Draco and his speaking of one of the most romantic languages on the planet from your head.

You follow with a sheepish smile, “Definitely. Even I’ve heard tales of Lucius’ library.”

Narcissa chuckles, “He spends more time in there; researching and reading anything.”

“What does he research?” You ask; curiosity piqued.

“Anything – the pagan tribes of the celts at the moment. He’s focused on the history of Wiltshire at the moment; I’ve had stop him twice this week from apparating to Stonehenge and scaring the tourists.”

Draco pauses; falling into step with you as Narcissa opens the library doors, “My father needed something to do after the war; historical research turned out to be his niche.”

“It sounds like he’s having one hell of a time,” You comment; not kissing the grin that stretches across Draco’s face.

“Scorp, darling, your father is here!” Narcissa calls out after not having found her grandson where she had left him with his grandfather.

It’s hard to miss the footfalls of the toddler as he runs through the shelve stacks, crowing, “Dad! You’re back!”

Draco catches Scorpius in his arms, “Hey there, squirt. How was your day?”

“Fun. Grandpa taught me about the selts.”

“Celts, my boy,” Lucius says, appearing from behind one of the many shelves, “A hard C. Celts.”

Scorpius’ eyebrows furrows as he repeats the word again, “Celts.”

Lucius claps, “Excellent! We’ll make a historian of you yet.”

Scorpius beams at the pride rolling off Lucius in waves; he almost doesn’t notice you standing next to Draco.

“(Y/N)!”

“Hi Scorpius,” You greet.

“Why are you here?” He asks.

You laugh at his curiosity, “Your father invited me for tea, is that okay?”

The young boy nods, “We’re having pasta.”

You smile, “I like pasta.”

Scorpius nods again, and just like that, it’s settled.

Draco hitches Scorpius higher onto his hip, “He wasn’t much trouble?”

His question breaks his parents from staring at the exchange between you and Scorpius. Lucius smiles at Draco, “Scorpius is never any trouble.”

“Thank you for looking after him again.”

“It’s no bother to us. We love the boy,” Narcissa comments; blinking away what look to be like tears.

“We’ll see you soon, no doubt,” Draco says, “Say bye to granny and grandpa, squirt.”

Scorpius yells his goodbye with a large smile.

Draco holds his free arm out to you, and the three of you apparate to his home in the next village over.

Draco’s house is nowhere near the size of Malfoy Manor, but it is still large in comparison to the two bedroomed flat you rented in Diagon Alley.

It’s perfectly symmetrical you realise as Draco opens the garden gate. Two windows on either side of the pale green front door. Always a Slytherin, you think as you follow Draco up the main path. He readjusts Scorpius as he reaches for his key; putting Scorpius down as he opens the door.

Scorpius reaches for your hand, “I’ll show you the kitchen,” he states, leading you through the large foyer to a room just to the right.

The kitchen is the biggest one you’ve been in. The island being home to a breakfast bar where Scorpius tries to climb up to before you cave and place him on one of the stools.

Draco follows closely behind; opening the fridge to grab the ingredients for dinner.

You hop off a stool, “What can I do to help?”

Draco pauses, “You need to sit down, I said I was cooking.”

You roll your eyes, “I want to help, so what can I do?”

“Add the pasta to the pot when the water starts to boil. I’ve already salted the water.”

You nod, rolling the sleeves up on your blouse. Draco doesn’t miss the small tattoo on your left forearm, “When did you get that?” he asks as he starts to crush and chop some garlic.

You look down to the now familiar swirling patterns below the crook of your elbow, laughing, “I got it after our Eighth Year. I snuck out to a muggle artist and got it done; mum hit the roof.”

Draco laughs, moving on to slicing the tomatoes in two. You look down at the pot of water, happy to see it boiling. You add the pasta to the pot, stirring twice before stepping away from the pan.

You sit back down at the breakfast bar; ruffling Scorpius’ hair as you do so. The blonde-haired boy giggles, “Can I see your arm?”

You glance at Draco to check that he’s okay with Scorpius seeing your tattoo. Draco nods and you hold out your arm for Scorpius to gaze at your tattoo.

He reaches out a small finger, running it over the ink gently, “Did it hurt?”

You shake your head, “Not a bit.”

“Dad has a tattoo.”

You stiffen at his words; so does Draco.

The Dark Mark that mars Draco’s arm wasn’t spoken about when it was placed on his forearm, and it wasn’t spoken about now. It has been years since the Dark Lord was vanquished by Harry Potter yet his mark upon the house of Malfoy had definitely been left.

“It’s pale but I’ve seen it.”

Draco clears his throat, saying somewhat brokenly, “Dinner is almost ready. Go clean up, squirt.”

You help Scorpius down from the stool; grinning as he rushes away to the downstairs bathroom to wash his hands before dinner.

As soon as he’s left, you turn your attention back to Draco who’s stirring the pan of pasta quietly, “I’m sorry, Draco.”

“For what?” He asks incredulously.

“For showing him my tattoo. I didn’t think he would bring up yours.”

Draco shrugs, “It’s okay. I’ve learned to live with it, and like squirt said, it’s pretty faded now.”

You nod, “I’m glad. Where do you keep your plates? I’ll grab them for you.”

“Second cupboard on from the fridge. There’s a small plastic one for Scorpius there too.”

You grab the three plates, wandering back to where Draco is adding the pasta to the sauce simmering away in the pan. Scorpius rushes back into the kitchen, taking a seat at the table by the window.

“Show us your hands, squirt. Are they clean?”

Scorpius holds his hands up, waving them at his father. Draco squints, pretending to look over his son’s hands with extra care, “Very good. Are you ready to eat?”

“Yes!” Scorpius shouts, legs kicking under the table.

Draco laughs, “Well it’s a good thing it’s ready then!”

Draco takes over yours and Scorpius’ plates first before grabbing his and the cutlery. He cuts up Scorpius’ pasta before settling in his own seat and starting to eat.

“This is so tasty,” You compliment, “One of the best meals I’ve had.”

Scorpius nods rapidly, working through his own mouthful before saying, “Dad is the best cook! You should try his pancakes!”

“Thanks, squirt,” Draco replies, smiling at him.

“I’ll have to try those pancakes one day,” You murmur, casting a side glance at the blonde-haired man sat to your left.

“I think you will,” He replies, effectively knocking the breath out of you.

Of course, you would rekindle feelings for your teenage crush when he’s now a widow and a father. You wanted to roll your eyes, but instead, you focus your gaze back to your meal.

The dinner is soon over, and the plates are cleared away to the sink where they’ll be washed after dessert.

Dessert is a slice of chocolate cake and ice cream; a treat from Narcissa. Scorpius makes as much conversation as he can; telling his father and you about the day he had at his grandparents where he learnt about the mystical celts and Stonehenge. Soon, though, his eyes start to droop and his final spoonful of cake clatters to the plate.

Draco scoops up his son; cradling in his arms as he once did those years ago. Draco murmurs an apology to you as he carries his son from the kitchen to his room, but you wave him away.

To help, you collect the plates and start running the hot water, adding dish soap as you go. You’re almost finished with the final plate when Draco returns from putting Scorpius to bed.

“You didn’t need to do that.”

You shrug, “I don’t mind – it makes me feel useful.”

“Alright. You washed, I’ll dry,” Draco bargains; grabbing the tea towel from the counter and picking up the first plate.

“Did he fall asleep okay?” You question.

Draco nods, “Out like a light, I had put his pyjamas on for him.”

You chuckle, “Bless him.”

“He really likes you,” Draco comments.

“Well, what’s not to like?” You quip, grinning, “I really like him too. He’s a credit to you, Draco.”

Draco finishes drying the final plate; putting them back in their assigned cupboard.

“Thank you. Would you like a drink, or do you need to be at work early?”

“I do, but I’d like that drink.”

Draco pulls two glasses from the display before reaching for a bottle of red wine. You already knew that you would wake up tomorrow with a headache, but it was worth it to spend more time with him.

Draco pours two glasses before handing one to you. He grabs the bottle and his glass, leading you to the living room across the foyer.

You take a seat on the maroon couch, taking a drink of wine before placing the glass on a coaster.

“Thank you for the meal. It was delicious. Where did you learn to cook like that?”

“That is all part of Narcissa Malfoy’s rearing of a good husband. She started teaching me to cook before I left for Hogwarts and would give me lessons every school holiday.”

“Well, you’re very good. I’ll be thinking of that pasta for days.”

Draco smiles at you from over the rim of his wine glass and your stomach flips.

“Why did you tell your mother that it was just dinner?” You question, referring to the incident earlier at Malfoy Manor. You take another sip of wine, watching Draco the whole time.

“Mother has it in her mind that it’s time for me to find someone new. She worries that I’ve been alone too long,” Draco drawls wryly.

“What do you think?”

Draco swishes the remaining wine in his glass; reaching for the bottle to refill.

“I don’t know,” is his answer as he tops off your glass too.

“Are you lonely?”

“You really are a journalist, aren’t you?” He teases.

You roll your eyes, smiling, “Are you though? Lonely?”

Draco locks eyes with you; the answer is on the tip of his tongue, ready to make its entrance but he’s interrupted by the cry of his son.

Wine glasses are placed hurriedly as you both rush to the young boy’s room; his cries getting louder.

The both of you fall into the room in a hurry; desperate to help Scorpius. Draco shakes his shoulders, bringing him back to reality.

“Scorpius, Scorpius – it’s okay, open your eyes.”

“Dad?” Scorpius asks; his voice a sob.

“It’s me, squirt. I’m here.”

Scorpius opens his arms for his father. Draco picks him up with no hesitation; cuddling his son to his side – drying his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

“It sounded like a bad one,” Draco comments.

Scorpius nods, “I don’t want to go back to sleep, I’m scared.”

Draco looks torn in two. On the one hand, Scorpius needs to sleep otherwise he’ll be as cranky as a Hungarian Horntail tomorrow. However, on the other hand, Draco won’t force Scorpius back into another nightmare by insisting he sleep.”

You step forward, perching on the end of Scorpius’ bed, “I have an idea, but you need to be all comfortable and cosy, okay?”

Scorpius nods timidly; rearranging himself against Draco’s side, cuddling his beloved teddy tighter.

“Are you cosy?”

He nods once more.

“Okay, I’ll begin: Once upon a time in a far off land there lived a king who was very lonely. He had tried for years and years to meet the love of his life, but he felt defeated for he hadn’t found the one…”

It takes over an hour – three stories and two muggle songs before Scorpius is soundly sleeping once again.

Draco shifts him with the expertise of a parent before leaving his bedroom with you in tow.

He goes to close the door, but you place a hand on his wrist, stopping him. “Leave it open two,” you start, “the light from the landing will comfort him a little if he has another nightmare.”

Draco leaves the door open a crack. Turning to you, he says, “I don’t know why I never thought of that.”

You shrug, “It’s something my mum used to do for me.”

“You were incredible in there by the way,” Draco compliments as you descend the stairs together.

“Thank you,” You murmur shyly.

“Where did you learn those stories and songs?” He asks, “I feel like I should take notes for next time,” he chuckles half-heartedly.

You laugh too, “The stories I made up years ago and the songs are muggle ones I heard on my travels. I used to babysit my younger cousins for extra pocket money – I got to be creative very quickly.”

“Well it paid off,” Draco comments, eyes flickering to the stairs.

“It certainly did,” You murmur; eyes following Draco’s.

It’s silent for a few moments; the both of you thinking of the other without the other knowing. You, terrified to tell him for the fear of rejection. Him, terrified about letting down his dead wife.

You both go to speak at the same time and promptly burst into quiet laughter.

Through the span of the conversation, you’ve gravitated towards Draco – bodies angled towards each other, hands close to touching, heads close together.

If you leaned forward an inch, your mouth would be on his.

The alcohol coursing through your veins makes the connection for you as in the next second, you’ve leant forward and attached your lips to Draco’s.

He doesn’t respond at first; too in shock by your boldness but when you’re about to pull away, he wraps a hand in your hair, keeping your mouth pressed to his. Lips glide together seamlessly. He bites down on your lower lip, making you gasp. He deepens the kiss then; shifting on the couch to press you further into it.

Your hand make their way into his hair, and Draco groans against your mouth at the feel.

But it’s all too much and you need to pull away.

Chest heaving, you drag your mouth away from Draco’s. He nuzzles his nose into your cheek, pressing little kisses across your jawline to your ear before sitting back up.

“I didn’t expect that,” You gasp.

“Neither did I, but I’m not mad about it.”

“You aren’t? I did just jump you.”

Draco laughs, “It would have happened sooner or later.”

“Really?” You ask; a note of happiness unmistakable in your voice.

Draco nods, running his thumb across your lips, relishing in the fact that they’re swollen because of him.

The wine has gone to your head, and you feel your eyes begin to droop before the first yawn hits. You sigh, pulling away from Draco’s distracting touch, “I think I better head off.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to leave.”

“Why, do you want me to stay, Draco?” You tease.

He nods, “I can’t offer much, but this couch is really comfy.”

“And where will you be sleeping?” You ask; the wine making you more brash.

Draco blushes. You take back your words, “I’m sorry, Draco. Red wine goes straight to my head.”

“Don’t be, it’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t. I just propositioned you and all we’ve done is kiss,” You groan, dropping your head into your hands.

Draco pulls your hands away from your face, “(Y/N), it’s fine, really. The blanket on the back of the couch is really warm; grab it will you?”

You feel your face heat as you reach for the large grey blanket draped over the back of the couch. Draco stands momentarily to toe off his shoes before settling back down on the couch. You slip off your own shoes before clambering onto the couch next to him.

This was all so intimate.

Draco throws the large blanket over you both. Once suitably covered, his arm slips around your waist and your hand rests on his chest.

Neither of you say anything. No words need to be spoken now; everything expressed through actions alone.

With a kiss to the top of your head, Draco falls asleep unafraid of what he’ll meet in the morning.

--------

It’s the sunlight that wakes you. Bright light warming your face; you flutter your eyes open to find you face to face with Draco’s chest. Neither of you had moved in night; if anything, becoming closer together. At some point, his legs had tangled with yours and your hand had gripped his shirt so tight, it came away wrinkled when you loosened your grip.

You sigh happily; then you glance at the clock on the mantle piece where the hands make it abundantly clear that you were going to be late for work.

Extracting yourself carefully from Draco’s hold, you pick up your shoes from the floor. You search quickly for a spare piece of paper and a pen; scrawling a note for Draco to read when he wakes.

With one last look at the man you had fallen for in such a short amount of time, you apparated away.

-----

Draco wakes not long after you leave; feeling oddly light without the weight of your body pressed up against him. He frowns when he realises that you’ve left without a goodbye but with a glance at the clock, he doesn’t have much time to worry about it.

Scorpius would be awake any minute and demanding breakfast.

Draco sits up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. It had been so long since he had slept with someone by his side; wrapped around him the way you were, and he was happy to admit, he had missed the feeling of another human pressed so tightly against him, he could feel every contour in their body.

He almost falls off the couch when he notices your note lying on the table. He grabs it with shaking hands:

“Had to go to work – meet me for lunch if you can? Thank you for last night. You still owe me pancakes – (Y/N).”

He feels like a teenager again experiencing the rush of his first crush. He runs a hand across his face; standing up to get a start on breakfast. He folds your note in two before sliding it into his wallet for safekeeping.

It’s then that Draco realises he has two things he needs to do.

-----

Draco drops Scorpius off at Astoria’s parents for the morning. Apologising to his son for bailing on their plans of the park and the library; Scorpius simply pats his father’s face in goodbye before running to his grandma and grandad Greengrass.

Draco waves at his in-laws before apparating to see their daughter.

-----

The graveyard looks entirely different, but Draco knows nothing has changed. What has changed is him, and he need to tell Astoria.

Kneeling in his usual place in front of her grave, Draco releases a shaky breath.

“Hi darling, I know I’m early for our visit, but I have something important to discuss with you,” He looks down at his hands before continuing, “I think I’ve met someone, and I really want to pursue it. I want to see where it goes.

“You have to understand, darling, I never thought I would love again after you. I really didn’t and for three years, I’ve been an island with just enough room for Scorpius. I didn’t expect it, but it happened, and I like the way (Y/N) makes me feel. I feel excited again; my hands are shaking from the very thought.

“Scorpius likes her by the way, and she likes him, but they both know they won’t ever fill the role that you were supposed to. And I think they’re both happy with that knowledge.

“I’m not asking for your permission, but I am asking for your forgiveness. For not loving you harder; for not taking more time to be with you; for not apologising immediately after every argument. But I’m ready to start living again and I’ve found someone that makes me want to live again; that incites that spark of life within me, and I desperately want to see where it goes.

“I haven’t seen you in a while; around the house. I think you realised what was happening before I did and finally made your peace with it. I can’t ever forget you and our time. I see whenever I look at our little boy, but I’m ready to begin again, and so I shall.”

Draco stands from the grave feeling as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He had to speak to Astoria before he could speak to you; he had tell her his choice but to reassure that he would always love her, but his heart was ready to make room for another person.

And that person was you.

With one last glance at the marble headstone, Draco apparates to Diagon Alley.

----------

The offices to the Daily Prophet newspaper lie in a side street just off the high street. He signs in at reception but asks the receptionist not to alert you of his presence. The receptionist flushes when she realises that she’s now part of a romantic plot. Draco smiles at her gratefully as he makes his way to the main lift, asking for your floor.

He taps his foot the entire ride up to your floor, annoying every single person in the lift with him. But he can’t help it; he’s both excited and nervous.

In a few moments, he’s changing the direction of his life forever, and he couldn’t feel more ready to start.

The door opens on your floor and Draco rushes out, followed by the happy sighs of those journeying to higher floors. He wants to laugh at their reactions, but the butterflies rioting in his stomach make him feel as if he could vomit right on the muddy brown carpet.

It’s not hard to find which desk is yours by the amount of trinkets on there. Files are precariously high in one section, and then the rest of the desk bar the cream typewriter is covered by snow globes and tiny figurines of landmarks from your travels. From this first look at your desk, Draco already has a sense of what your flat will look like.

You gasp when you see Draco standing in the door to your office, “Draco, you’re early for lunch.”

Draco walks up to your desk; his hands shaking through it all, “Let me make you pancakes.”

“What?” You ask, breathless.

“Let me make you pancakes,” He repeats, “I want to make you pancakes in the morning.”

“Really?” You sniffle; tears collecting.

Draco nods, “I’m still grieving, but I always will be. However, that doesn’t mean my life needs to come to an end and I realised that I want it to continue with you by my side so… let me make you pancakes every morning.”

Tears have started to fall down your face and you sniffle before speaking, “Okay. You can make me pancakes.”

Draco beams; eyes crinkling. He leans in close to you, whispering, “Do you think you can get off early?”

You grab your bag before he finishes his sentence, “Let’s get out of here.”

Draco holds his hand out for you to take. At the feel of your skin against his, a jolt of electricity runs between you. It takes everything in him not to drag you into a kiss in the foyer of the building.

He waits until he’s in the street.

Like a gentleman.

He waits until the coast is somewhat clear before pulling you into his side and drawing your mouth to his like you did last night. Your arms wrap around his neck, bringing him closer to you.

It’s not your first kiss, and it won’t be your last, but this one kiss means the world to the both of you.

Through it all, you’ve learnt to swim.

-------

A year later:

Scorpius is almost five years old when he visits his mother’s grave for the first time in his life. He had been less than three weeks old when she was buried in the Greengrass plot

Scorpius watches as his father kneels before her first; apologising for his absence and asking for her forgiveness.

But then he looks to Scorpius; where he stands with his hand holding onto yours tightly.

Draco beckons to Scorpius with an open hand. Scorpius staggers to his father’s side immediately.

“Hi Mum,” he whispers.

Draco’s hand is firm on his son’s shoulders; a comforting presence.

“I miss you,” he starts, “I know I never got to know you, but I miss you. I have your picture in my room, so I know what you look like, and Wellesley. I’m starting school soon; a small magic school with kids like me and I’m really excited. Dad’s doing well. He was sad for a while but he’s happier now and he talks about you more with (Y/N) who I like too. I want to come back, and I think Dad will let me, so I’ll see you soon, Mum.”

And with that, Scorpius walks away, happy to have finally met the mother had wanted to meet for so long.

Draco watches his son potter back to the still creaky gate in awe. You join his side; fingers tangling in his. “How are you feeling?” You ask, watching Draco’s face.

“Happy and in love,” is Draco’s reply.

*****

Muggle songs:

Johnny Ace - Pledging My Love

Paul Anka - Put Your Head On My Shoulder

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @dreamer821 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @summer-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04

Draco Malfoy taglist @the--queen-of-hell @obxmxybxnk @obx-beach @sycathorn-slush @dracomalfoyswifey

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy fanfic #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco x reader #draco malfoy reader insert #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy imagine #draco fanfiction #draco lucius malfoy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #harry potter imagines #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x y/n

1K notes · View notes

mfpeace · 3 years ago

Text

@justbeingedgy @weird-colombian-gurl You asked me to elaborate on the "Ches already has a kid" theory in the notes of that one mf analysis post (which I really liked, go check it out!!), so that's why I'm making this one, cuz notes are a bit too restricting for what I want to talk about!

Though next time think twice before asking me to talk about something I'm interested in, because you never know when you're gonna wake up lovecraftian horrors!! :DDD you'll see what i mean when you press read more :))

So, I'll say it right now - this post is largely inspired by the second story highlight of this Instagram user (sorry, I don't know their name, only that their Instagram handle is dee_girl_metalfamilyfan), it's in Russian though, so keep that in mind

Alright, so I'll break this theory into two parts: the first one will be all about Ches, and the second will be about his potential child (spoiler: you might've seen her!)

Without any further ado, let's get to the Ches part:

1. The creators said that they're gonna explore Ches' character in the second season. Obviously, it doesn't mean anything on it's own, but just wait.

Dima: Let's talk about the second season a little. Of course, the seconds season will show development of the old characters, as well as new ones. That's in short. As you see, Ches looks a bit different here.

Alina: Yeah, we'll show a bit more about Ches at the ages of 18 to 20. His past. We'll reveal a bit more about his complex character, as much as it's possible.

(The source of the translation) Also I think they also said at one point that adult Ches will get some character development too? But that's probably a given, considering that we wouldn't see his youth if it wouldn't have affected him in the present, flashbacks without any relevance to the overall story don't sound so good

2. Not sure about this one (we don't know how much in character it was) but I can't not mention it.

Alina: Actually there was this one fanfic that I really liked. I don’t remember what it was called, but it was about Ches having a daughter, which is a cool topic. It was relatively in character and truly interesting. It’s great when people focus not just on sexual relationships of the characters, but also try to look at their development. That was a really interesting one. That’s it.

(UnityCon '19)

3. This one's a pretty big one, in my opinion. So, this is what they said on ArtWave '19:

Dima: Ches also has flaws.

Alina: [to Dima] Don’t spoil stuff.

Dima: His flaw is that he's very... irresponsible, let’s say.

So, maybe, just maybe, Ches does have a child but he, you know... left them? As the Instagram highlight from the beginning say: "he might be irresponsible enough to leave his child, and he's probably irresponsible enough not to use any contraception" (rephrased, not the exact quote)

4. Alright, so, the only mention of this one I can think of right now is the aforementioned Instagram highlight. The Metalfamilyfan says:

I contacted Korg/Корж, (admin of @ metal_yama [and I believe one of the organizers of the Metal Family Meetup in Moscow]) and she asked Alina on one of the meetups: "if Ches were to be a father, what kind of father would he be?"

And she said: "The kind of that would say "kid, look at that birdie over there!" an then he would run away"

Someone's words are not the perfect source, but they did tag Metal Yama and from what I know they didn't disagree with what the author of the page said. if anyone has anything to say about this (disprove or definitely prove what I said) feel free to do so in a reblog, notes, DMs, send me an anonymous ask, or in any other way you feel comfortable with

5. Ches has literally been through the same thing, and we know how important the theme of the cycle of abuse is in Metal Family (or, in this case, the cycle of neglect? Abandonment? Idk)

You managed to hide your PREGNANCY from me! AND you've been hiding the child from me for a whole year!

YES, because you would've insisted on aborting him!

AND NOW I'M INSISTING ON PUTTING HIM UP FOR ADOPTION! OR I'LL LEAVE RIGHT NOW!

6. Here we can see Ches with a blonde girl. Nothing too special, probably just a one time hook up. He doesn't seem to be interested in her, and she seems to be annoyed with him.

But wait...

What is this?

Like, it doesn't even matter if there's actually a punk/rock/whatever band named MOM or not, I just think it's pretty weird to put it in this particular drawing of Ches and this random woman who is implied to have slept with him. It's not integral to Ches' character as, for example, Korol i Shut is. It's just... there. For some reason.

------------

Alright, now, finally let's get to the second part of the theory: who is, exactly, his child?

The short answer is, according to this theory, her:

First, let me list every single instance of her appearing in canon (and by canon I mean everything made by the creators. Even with this definition of canon it's not much, I promise): The screenshot you can see above on the left (it's a screenshot from the second season and it appeared here), an instagram story posted by Alina (above, right), and two drawing with a lot of characters where you can spot the girl which I'm gonna call her PinkHair or PH for short, I'll mention them later I feel like I should mention this, comparing the sources of the images and the dates when they were posted, it's safe to assume that the screenshot in the classroom has the latest and final version of her design. The red hair most likely doesn't mean anything

1. Alright. So. we've seen Dee and PinkHair in a classroom together, so they're most likely related in some way, or at least they know each other. Their exact relationship doesn't matter here, because all that matters here is that they're related story-wise

Let's look at the first image. This is the banner of the main Metal Family channel. Ches is near Heavy (they get along quite well and I'm sure Heavy aspires to be like Ches in many ways), Dee (we can see his classmates/friends near him, they're all about his age), and we can see people related to Glam on the left side of the image (including Ches!), and Vicky's - on the right side (notice how the hell sign is also there)

Now, I'm not absolutely sure about this one, but it's still kind of weird - look at the image on the right (it's from ArtWave 2021 btw) - wouldn't it make more sense to put PinkHair near Dee? Also, Curiously enough, not only is she not close to Dee on this image, but she's also standing next to Ches.

Though this whole thing could be explained by art theory (too many small things in one corner of your drawing isn't great composition wise lol sorry PH) but I still can't quite skip this point

2. Remember the "MOM" lady? Fun fact, she has the exact same pearl earring that PinkHair has on the screenshot.

3. I'll put all similarities with her supposed parents in this point: Mother: * She's also pretty uh.. glam? for the lack of a better word? Or feminine in a traditional sense, yeah I think that's a better way to put it. Like colors they prefer to wear for example, and jewelry. Characters like that aren't common in Metal Family * She's gotta be a blonde. I can't imagine her being anything but blonde. If she manages to maintain that hair color as a brunette I'm just straight up assuming her character arc is gonna be killing God because these kind of people are capable of anything. I fear them with every fiber of my being. * I can't say for sure because of the shading, but it seems like they both have gray eyes, and she also has darker skin compared to most MF characters. Though, it's likely that Mom just applied a lot of fake tan Ches: * We know that Ches for sure has darker skin * AND grey eyes * There's also some possible personality similarities but I'm not sure if you can compare a child to a parent they've never really known in this way

That's about it, I suppose, I hope there isn't that many grammar mistakes and logically unfinished parts and whatnot in this post I forgot to edit lol x) I'm not sure how to end this post other than to remind you guys that almost all the points in this posts are inspired by the "тупая теория" highlight on the dee_girl_metalfamilyfan's Instagram page, so go check them out and subscribe, they post Dee x The Quest Girl fanart and and always credit the artists. Without them this post would be much, much shorter.

Thanks for reading this post, please feel free to let me know your thoughts on this post <3

#i tried to organize this but #yeah #also damn i hope PH's mother isn't in the same situation as Ches' :'(#at one point i misspelled parent in the context of ches as paren't and now i can't stop giggling like an idiot #these tags have completely different moods to them because I wrote them at different points in time btw #paren't #heh heh #metal family #metal family ches #metal family pinkhair #this seems like it's made up but if words end in ent or ant or something like that sometimes i automatically put an ' in without thinking

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junicai · 4 years ago

Text

i search the universe.

| order no. | 5/21

| summary | Are ‘exploring’ and ‘being hopelessly lost’ synonyms? According to Jongin, they most definitely are.

| word count | 1.9k

| warnings | mentions of kidnapping but it’s just an old lady looking out for Aria when she’s with two very suspicious looking older men, sasaengs

| era | circa. January 2020

a/n: this definitely took a turn from the request, but i hope you still like it! if you’re not vibing with it, you can dm me, and i’ll see what i can re-write. thank you!

The tour was set to kick off again in San Diego, California, after a pause for the duration of December. The time off was greatly appreciated; Aria found herself sleeping for twelve hours at a time occasionally, her sleep schedule trying to right itself after having been flipped on its head too many times to count.

The flight from Seoul to California was long, and Aria had slept for a grand total of twenty minutes by the time they touched down on the tarmac runway again.

It had been Jongin’s idea to go exploring before their first schedule that evening, an invitation that was proposed to all the members but only accepted by Taemin. When Jongin’s deflated look was fixed on Aria, she crumbled like the weak woman that she was, and agreed to accompany the two older men on an impromptu trip around the city.

She’d never even left Ireland prior to joining the company (bar skating competitions, but those were less of a trip and more of a airport-taxi-hotel-rink-repeat combo, if you will) so each new city was met with widened eyes and dramatic oohs and aahs.

The trio had dropped their suitcases into their hotel rooms - Jongin rooming with Taemin this time around, and Aria with Ten - and pulled out a light jacket for outerwear, in Aria’s case, before they were marching out the door, masks pulled up over their faces.

Aria’s hoodie that she had worn on the plane lay on the bedspread in her room, her phone forgotten in it’s pocket.

The air was cool but not biting outside, and as Aria linked her hand into Taemin’s, the sun was still above the horizon. Jongin slipped his phone back into his pocket.

“The interview is scheduled for 6, which means we need to be back at the hotel for 4, which gives us,” He checked his watch, “Roughly two hours. Maybe a little more, if we push it.”

Taemin fixed him with a look. “Let’s not do that. It’s twenty to two now, lets aim to be back for twenty to four.”

Aria tugged on Taemin’s hand where the singer had still yet to let go. “Mhm! that way, if things go skywards, then we have time to take a back route or something.”

Jongin nodded, satisfied. “Okay! So, where first?”

Aria exchanged a look with Taemin, before starting down the street. “Let’s find out!”

With each building, came a new attraction to stare at. Small stalls sat at the street corners, attendees calling out to them to barter their goods. The buildings seemed to climb into the sky for miles, never-ending as far as Aria’s eyes could see.

The city was bustling with noise, cars passing on the wide streets with sharp beeps! that sent Aria jumping into the air occasionally, much to the chagrin of Jongin.

He caught her waist when she jumped backwards the first time, stopping her from flattening him onto the sidewalk. “You alright there?” He leaned forwards with a teasing grin.

Aria had huffed, swatting his hands off her waist before fixing her shirt. “Fine.”

The grin had stayed plastered on Jongin’s face for the next two blocks, widening further when the girl jumped again at the sound of a harsh tire squeal and a series of rapid-fire beeps following it.

Taemin lead the two away from the commotion, and they continued their in-depth exploration of the city and it’s secrets.

It was wonderful; Until it wasn’t.

Honestly, they probably should have realized when they started being followed. It happened regularly on the streets back home, but here, they were off-guard and so the first flash of a shutter going off send Taemin stumbling backwards slightly.

All hell broke loose from there.

A group of fourteen or fifteen teenage girls gathered, the leader of which had her phone gripped in her hand. “KAI OPPA!” She screamed, and like a battle cry - the others joined her.

Aria felt frozen, her legs refusing to cooperate with the frantic run, run, run run run that her brain was playing on a loop. The group advanced quickly, moving around the street corner and were only a few yards away when Jongin grabbed her wrist, fingers encircling tightly, and pulled her into motion.

They ran on autopilot, blind as to where they were going only knowing that they couldn’t stop. The pounding of feet was still deafening behind them, and Jongin speeded up, Taemin following suit.

It wasn’t long until Aria felt like she was doing less running and rather simply being tugged along by her wrist; legs pumping as fast as she could made them, but her strides were nearly double what she’d normally take even at a flat out sprint.

Taemin tugged them both into a small alleyway, hoping that the shade the towering buildings offered on either side was enough to shield them from the fangirls’ piercing gazes.

Aria bent over, hands on her knees, panting.

“Oh god,” Jongin coughed out. “Not a single day, huh?”

Taemin nodded sadly in commiseration, catching his own breath. “How did they even know it was us?”

“The hair, probably,” Aria mumbled, already pulling her hair back into her hood. The bleached blonde and sky blue streaks combination was a tell-tale sign, and she kicked herself mentally for not at least putting her hair up into a bun to hide the most dramatic parts of it.

“What do we do now?” Aria looked to the two older men. “Do we just try to make a run for it? I don’t think I can remember which way we even went, we were just running. Oh god, are we lost now? Can we even get back to the hotel?”

Taemin extended an arm, wrapping around Aria’s back and pulling her into a hug, before subtly moving them both behind a large sign that blocked them from view.

The group of girls passed by the entrance to the alley, chattering loudly.

“Where did they go?”

“Did you see which way they went?”

“Taeminnie oppa~ Saranghae, come back~”

“Who was the

“Okay,” Taemin took a deep breath. “Okay, we’ve done this before. My phone died somewhere back there, but Aria, do you want to call Baekhyun hyung while Jongin tries to figure out where we are?”

He received two nods in return, and Aria’s hands patted her pockets. The empty lining gave underneath her fingers, and her stomach sunk slightly in dread.

“My phone isn’t-” She looked up to Jongin with wide eyes. “I left it in the hotel room, I think, when I changed my jumper.”

Jongin put a hand on her shoulder, rubbing soothingly. “It’s okay, we still have mine.”

Aria’s breath was coming in slightly labored, with a light tremor that shook her chest.

The ringing sounded loud as it echoed down the alley, and Jongin scrambled to turn the phone on silent.

“What?” Baekhyun’s voice was tinny through the phone’s speakers, and Jongin moved down towards the end of the alley, out of Aria and Taemin’s earshot.

“Hyung,” Jongin spoke, heavy with relief.

“What? You’ve just woken me up-” Jongin interrupted Baekhyun before he could start yelling down the phone.

“Hyung, we got followed.”

“By who?”

“Fans, we think. They spotted us a couple streets ago, we ran and now we don’t know where we are.”

A muttered curse came down the phone line, and what sounded like Baekhyun shutting a door. “Right, find out where you are, and I’ll get the manager to come get you lot. This is why I said no to going out, you’re all tired and then things like this happen Jongin-”

“Hyung! I know, and I’m sorry you can scold me for it later, but right now,” He tossed a glance over his shoulder to Aria, who was encircled in Taemin’s arms. “Aria’s freaking out, and I’m not sure why, but I don’t think hiding in an alley is helping.”

Baekhyun was silent, breathing out another curse. “Taeyong, he told me - it happened a while ago, and he didn’t tell me a lot, but enough.”

“Hyung?”

“Aria had a bad, altercation, lets say, with a sasaeng two years ago. I don’t know what exactly happened - Yongie didn’t tell me - but I’ll bet that’s why she’s freaking right now. Maybe just-”

The line cut out.

Jongin shook his phone, clicking the power button. “Hyung? Hyung?”

Taemin looked over. “Is everything alright?”

“Phone’s dead.”

Aria’s head peeked up, wide eyed. “Really?”

Jongin nodded.

“So- so what do we do? Did you talk to oppa?”

He bit his lip. “Yeah, yeah I did. We’re gonna go find another store that’ll let us use their phone okay? And we’re gonna call the manager.” He turned to Aria. “Do you think you could talk to someone right now, Ari? Is that okay?”

Aria took a deep breath, closing her eyes and exhaling smoothly. “I can do that. I can definitely do that.” The tremor in her hands told otherwise, but she tucked them into her pockets to hide that fact.

“Okay. Okay, let’s go.” Taemin peered around the alley walls, looking and seeing no gang of girls waiting to pounce on them.

The trio stepped out from behind the building walls, and quickly jogged their way into the nearest café - two storefronts down.

“Miss? Miss, I’m so sorry to bother you, but could I borrow your landline for a moment? My own phone’s dead, you see.” Aria cleared her throat, peering up at the kind lady behind the counter.

Her wizened eyes took in the small stature of Aria, and the two men standing at the doorway, peering outside. They looked suspicious; hoods pulled low over their eyes, and masks hiding the bottom half of their faces, staring out the window as if they were waiting for someone to show up; and they were ready to flee.

Slowly, an understanding dawned on her - connecting the wrong dots together and garnering a jumbled up picture of the truth.

“Oh, dear of course, just come behind here and I’ll call someone for you - do you have your mother’s number with you? Your father’s?” She began to usher Aria behind the counter.

“Oh, no, miss, that’s alright, I just need to use your phone for a moment-”

The lady leaned closer. “Dear, if those men are trying to take you somewhere, you’re absolutely welcome to stay in the back room. Do you want me to call the cops?”

Aria choked. “Oh! Oh no- oh those are my brothers miss! They’re not- I haven’t been-”

The lady looked on with squinted eyes. “They can’t hurt you dearie, you’re safe now-”

“No, I promise you miss, they’re my brothers, they just don’t speak very good English. Can I please use your phone? Please?” Aria was begging at this point.

Reluctantly, a phone was handed to her, and she wasted no time in inputting Baekhyun’s number. It rang once, before being picked up.

“Oppa?”

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eivorsjawline · 4 years ago

Text

18+ Modern F!Eivor x F!Reader

Content warning: mention of food, alcohol, smut, foul language, strap on, degradation, oral, fingering, cunnilingus, choking, and restraining...

Summary: I needed some more strap Eivor, so here It goes. A well-established reader and Eivor bond over a glass of champagne until Eivor starts putting moves on the reader, leading to a hot and heavy night together.

Eivor cleaned up nicely, a white collared dress shirt and sleek black pants. A dark skinny tie hanging from her neck and a pair of Christian Louboutin flats to top it all off. The gold Rolex she always wore on her wrist shined in the light when she pressed the penthouse button on the elevator. The fabric divinely brushed her body, gripping onto her biceps, and her pants though loose hugged her toned ass and thighs. The elevator opened and Eivor clasped onto your hand, letting you step out first. The tall Norwegian blonde hovered over you, a silly smirk on her face. Though the situation was an innocent one, all you could think of was Eivor bending you over a table.

You just returned from going out to dinner, a date night. The both of you had missed one another dearly, for Eivor had been gone so long due to work. Though the time you missed with one another created hard times, it was always worth it in the end. The both of you were established adults who found sanctuary in each other. You had been dating for a while now and things were starting to get serious. The love between you two only grew with time, a big part of Eivor knew that you were the one she wanted to spend her life with. You could still remember how intimidated you were by the older woman at first, Eivor was in her mid-thirties at this point. She had shown you so much and taught you a lot about the world.

Upon entering, you saw the usual view of the large buildings and lights through the large window. However, when you looked to your right you were shocked to see an array of gifts and pictures set out on a table for you. A bouquet of red roses, a bottle of the finest champagne and chocolate delicacies laid out as well. You opened the card Eivor put with the roses and read the sweet words congratulating your anniversary. A huge smile formed on your face, teeth and all. Eivor wrapped her arms around your waist from behind, the sight of seeing you happy caused her to grin. Being in the middle of a pandemic was tough. Eivor was upset that more couldn’t be done with the love of her life. Albeit, you were happy and pleased with even the smallest of gestures from her.

“Happy anniversary, my love. Wouldn’t wanna spend this last year with anyone else.”

You thanked her before turning around and giving her a passionate kiss. The scent of her musky cologne radiated from her chest until she pulled away to pour two glasses of champagne. You both took off your shoes and laid down on the bed, your glasses clinking cheers. The warm embrace of Eivor greeted the back of your body as she embraced you in her arms, fingers trickling the skin of your left shoulder before she started to pull the strap of your black dress down. Her lips met your neck, causing your eyes to close as you succumbed to her touch. Her eyes kept wandering to the large mirror across from the bed, you knew exactly what was on her mind.

“I was gone so long on that business trip, yearning for you so badly. All alone, only my wet dreams occupied me.”

She started to massage your breast over the fabric, the touch causing your peaks to harden. Her hands slipped down to your cleavage, her fingers playing in circles around your bare nipple. You pushed your hair to the side for her to place kisses down the back of your neck, your bodies readjusting to take one another’s clothes off. She pulled the slip dress over your body with ease, leaving you in your lace lingeries you wore specifically for tonight. Eivor lifted her head for you to undo her tie, along with her shirt shortly after. It had been so long since you both last saw each other, everything became a blur. The thin line between love and lust started to fade, pure sin erupted between you two.

Eivor’s body looked beautiful in the candlelit room, her soft but deep moans began to grow heavier once you placed kisses from her chest to her lower stomach. She stood up from the bed as you pulled down her pants and underneath, your soft touches on her thighs making her body squirm with eagerness. You teased her slowly, not yet giving her what she wanted. Her hands wandered downwards, gently grabbing a fist full of your hair while she tried to move her lower half towards your mouth. You ran your mouth over the skin on her thighs, just over her lips. Eivor’s frustration grew visibly stronger, until she pulled you up towards her, pulling your head back and making you look her directly in the eye.

“Always a fucking tease, don’t think for a moment I will go easy on you when It’s your turn.”

Her grip on you tightened until finally, your lips traced the outline of the front of her body and straight down to her dripping wet cunt. You looked her deeply in the eyes as your tongue started to lick her folds, hands grabbing onto the back of her thighs for support. She let out a moan once your tongue met her throbbing clit, caressing and flicking the spot just how she liked. Starting slow then fast, Eivor’s moans grew louder and heavier as her eyes closed with pleasure. You remained there licking and sucking up the juices that exuded from her, enjoying and savoring every moment of it. Your fingers ran over the entrance of her, teasing back and forth. She started to grind on your mouth, the patience left in her body thinning.

Tender kisses were placed on her chest, your tongue began to tease her nipples. Her breasts were dainty, sturdy but soft. Your head directed upwards to kiss her on the mouth as she ran her tongue over the bottom of your lip as if greeting yours. Tongues began to clash, playing with one another and her arms exploring your body lower. Her rough hands held onto your hips, soon enough tracing upwards on your back till a hand reached the back of your neck. The smell of her breath was mixed with a perfect blend of the champagne and the mints she would always pop in. The wet slip and slide of both of your tongues caused the warm feeling deep inside of you to grow.

“Fuck, Y/n I need to feel you inside of me. Don’t make me beg.”

You knew how long she had waited for this moment, and you could feel how completely drenched she had become. You liked how badly she desired you, you lived for the sheer fact. Just as she was about to get even bossier with you, her eyes opened wide with frustration, you sank two fingers into her canal. Her eyes closed quickly and she threw her head back, spreading her legs wide for you to work into her. Slowly waving your fingers in her, from the top to the knuckles while your tongue started to flick her clit faster. Watching you bury your face in her and fuck her made Eivor lose all control. The muscles of her walls gripped onto your fingers as she started to climax. There was no holding back the hot cum that now coated your fingers, you slowed down and placed kisses on the sides of her pelvis.

“Let me taste myself on your tongue, my little toy.”

The tone in her voice was breathy and hot, she meant business tonight. Your upper bodies met one another yet again and her fingers opened up your mouth causing your jaw to unhinge for her. Her piercing deep blue eyes looked into yours directly, her other hand gripped your neck and she spit into your mouth before locking tongues with you. With the flavor of your tongues and her cum blending lasciviously, you were completely soaked at this point. The more she kissed you, the less you could control your moans. Her hand slipped under your underwear and cupped the filthy wet spot underneath, she licked her lips as if pleased with how soaked she made you. The hefty woman lifted herself on top of you and the weight of her strong body dropped on top of you. Her tongue caressed your earlobes and eventually sucked onto the upper cartilage, making you shiver underneath her.

She undid the clasp in the front of your bra with ease and expertise. Her hands ran up the curves of your torso, making you arch your back. She ran her tongue up the middle of your ribcage until her mouth met one of your hard nipples. You watched as she played with your breasts and her eyes that admired them, the look filled with lust. Her tongue danced in circles and her teeth grazed your peak, whatever morals you had left completely washed away. Though your eyes closed, Eivor’s were wide open and watching your facial expressions in the mirror across from you. absolutely mesmerized by the way she could please you even though she had barely started.

“You want me to fuck your little pussy, don't you?”

You moaned and let out a simple, “Yes, please.” and made sure to say her name along with it, for it was her favorite one to hear come from your lips. The intensity in her eyes grew and her words sent chills down your spine. There was nothing more that you could ever want at the moment as she ventured downwards, her head now rightfully in between your thighs. Eivor grabbed the bends in the back of your knees and pushed your legs back before running her tongue up and down your folds. You couldn’t help but to throw your head back and moan from the relief of her touching the area you so desire with her warm tongue. The sight of you losing control of yourself from her talents only turned Eivor on more. Her attention shifted to your clit, sloppily dragging the muscle in her mouth across your sweet spot while she watched you squirm.

The pace started to pick up slowly, which caused you to yearn for more. Oh, how you missed those magic fingers of hers. With the godly length and width of them, your mind began to fill up with imaginative thoughts of them inside you. Eivor was still making tides on your clit with her tongue and enjoying every moment of it. Her hands gripped the sides of your hips, devouring that spot in between your legs so well. Eivor was thorough and steady, the skilled tongue of a woman beyond your years. Your desperateness started to cloud over your patience, you had to ask her the question ringing in your mind.

“Eivor… Please I-”

You said with a soft moan, hardly able to finish the rest of the sentence due to Eivor speeding up and licking you with vigor. Before you could even ask the question on your mind, she already knew what you wanted. With her head tilted up, she grinned and slid a finger inside of you, just to tease more of what she could offer. She started with slow curls pressing up and switching to slow pumps in and out. The sight of her entering you getting her off and all control is lost. Her tongue joined in with the song her fingers played, flicking at the perfect pace and spot. Your eyes started to roll back as you were unable to contain yourself from the beautiful blonde fucking you sweetly.

“Ugh, give me more Eivor. Please!”

Before she could give you what you wanted, she had to tease you a little more. Her body leaned upwards over you, the chain she had on her neck dangling just in front of your face. When she reached a hand over your face to caress your cheek, she added in another finger. The satisfaction of the extra finger only filled you more when she sank herself in you til the knuckles. The caress on your cheek turned into her thumb and index on her free hand clasping onto your neck, choking you softly. Her fingers rammed into you with force, the muscles she built up being put to good use. The sounds of her slamming into you filled your body with ecstasy but something within you knew Eivor was yet to be finished. Eivor pulled away from you and stood up, an abrupt pause.

“Bend over for me, now. Don’t make me wait too long.”

You did exactly as she commanded, on all fours on the bed. Some shuffling could be heard around the room while you waited for her in the same vulnerable position. It wasn’t long until Eivor came back and grabbed you by your wrists, stretching them back to tie them together. The view of you on all fours and Eivor close behind you could be seen in the mirror across, the one she had been eyeing all night. Eivor tugged at your hair, pulling you up and making you face yourself before whispering in your ear.

“You’re gonna get fucked like the dirty whore you are, don’t let me catch you closing your eyes.”

The ropes around your wrist tightened but she let go of your hair. There was something so sexy in the way Eivor turned so authoritarian, your body grew desperate for her to completely have her way with you. She always loved giving you pleasure and took satisfaction in watching the way you shifted and turned in the bed. The dazed state of ecstasy you were in was interrupted when you felt the tip of her strap pry at your hole. You braced yourself as she slid into you, truly making sure not to cause you any discomfort. You gasped with each inch she sank into you, her girth leaving you filled. Eivor reached over to grab you by the hair and pull your head up, your wrists were still bound and you were hardly able to move. Your walls convulsed as Eivor was completely inside of you now, to the end of the strap. The friction of her pulling on your scalp only excited you more.

“Watch, as I fuck you.”

She demanded you, her hips beginning to make waves starting slow as she watched you in the mirror. Eivor rocked like a steady boat, moving slowly and rigorously. Sweat glimmered off of her completely exposed body, her hips slamming into you like waves in the ocean. Nothing but pure concentration showed on her face, the dedication to make you release from her. The sensations felt too good, keeping your eyes open seemed impossible. Your moans started to grow heavier as the pace picked up gradually, your eyebrows pursed together and eyes started to water already from trying to keep them open. You moaned and cursed Eivor's name, as she took pride in fucking you. Eivor watched diligently as she pleased you, examining your body like a hawk and watching closely as she slid into you over and over again. The pace started to pick up, one of her knees towering over you and bent to the side as she fucked me from behind.

Pure shock hit your body when she lifted her foot to place on top of your head, pinning you completely down. Eivor knew the power she held against you and how much you enjoyed it when she took control. She ground and bucked her hips against you, making you cry out in pleasure. Her body slapping against you and rolling with pure talent. Her words of encouragement were said softly while her breaths grew heavy from the vigor she rammed into you. The warm feeling between your thighs consumed you causing you to close your eyes and succumb to all the pleasures. You gasped when Eivor removed her heel from your head and pulled you up towards her, her arms held back your bound wrists and lifted you, your torso now higher. She peered over you, a look of disappointment on her face.

“What did I say? You like being underneath me, like the dirty little bitch you are. It’s pitiful.”

She slammed into you harder than ever, sliding in and out with ease now that you had completely coated the strap. Her hand reached over to slide her fingers into your mouth while she fucked you, rubbing on your tongue. Her hands reached back down to your shoulders, pushing into her more. The roughness of her hands around the sides of your neck just about drove you insane, she fucked you so good and she knew it. You moaned out to tell Eivor that you were about to cum, her pace grew steady and ready for you. You released on her, only a creamy white residue was left.

Eivor backed up and pulled out of you, both of you now exhausted. Your legs could hardly stop shaking and you could barely stand. Your naked bodies laid down in bed, sweaty and tired but satisfied. Eivor could switch in seconds, an angel to a demon with the way she loved. Eivor placed kisses all over your body, admiring you. She was consumed by you, making you aware of the power you held over her. Unable to move in bed, you swore you were on the verge of passing out. Eivor laid close by, her muscular back turned to you. You pushed yourself closer, up against her naked body. She always liked being the little spoon, regardless of how dominant of a person she tended to be. You pulled back the long locks of her hair, kissing her on the cheek. Eventually, you closed your eyes to drift off until you heard Eivor mumble a few words in the dead silence.

“I love you, Y/n.”

You replied, of course, you loved her too. The moment was sweet, a sudden change from moments before. Your leg clasped over her body, her hands rubbing the side of your thigh. If only moments like these could last forever by the side of your lover. The smell of sweat and sex filled the air, the perfect person warmed your bed. Only a blank dark space from your closed eyes, everything faded into darkness and all your worries washed away. Though tired at the moment, you were ready to do it all over again tomorrow. Little snores could be heard next to you, she was already out.

#fem eivor #female eivor #f!eivor #eivor x reader #eivor varinsdóttir #eivor wolfkissed #Valhalla #ac valhalla #assasins creed valhalla #fan fiction #enjoy

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chorochororin · 4 years ago

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Ah yes, Shanghai.

In regards to the ML Shanghai specials, I will not expecting Miraculous’s next Special to be like a ‘delicious meal’ (general, well created and plotted movie) that I will watch it multiple times, but at least it has to be edible.

I was wrong.

SPOILERS FOR THE PEOPLE.

Now there are two problems raise for me and most audiences as well, notable A. representation, and B. (previewed plot)

Exhibit A: Asian Representation.

I have the impressions that Shanghai will reveal the beauty of culture, art, history, and people of China like what they did in ML New York (ironically). And at the same line, due to the formulated plot of ML New York and how ML staffs likes to orderly mess things up, the ‘beauty’ of it will come with many mess and too much flaws regarding characters and settings. I was partially correct in my second thought.

What I thought that Shanghai was going to explore to the audiences Chinese origin for our part-or-whole? Chinese characters, especially Marinette, since she is a Chinese-French protagonist, and the prominent deuteragonist, Fei, which I am more excited more.

As a member of the Asian community, I was thrilled to see what the ML staff has their views on a Chinese woman who’s both strong as a citizen and a hero? That is...played on stereotypes but I’m sure that it’s edible (meaning the bare minimum)-

Yep, that’s her, Fei the Lady Dragon has appeared.

You know, I could forgive Uncanny Valley in the NY special for her transformation, reasons that I cannot fully represent the Black community about the issue about her, and I figured that white tin for her transformation was the usual material that was use for AIs in various commercials and technological photos, so I believe it is not necessarily whitewashing and it is just a material that human will probably stabilize it in the future to unload less stress (please correct me if I am wrong.)

But this?! She’s white as a sheet, more actually.

She’s whiter than Marinette! And that’s saying a lot.

Keep in mind this is a result from a bunch of White people, sitting in a room, probably reading white-written Chinese books instead of observing actual Chinese people, and thought ‘hey! Let’s give her blond to match the color of red! As in good luck! And dragon!’

You know that this wasn’t really tolerable in Asian representation in media. The fact that she was blond during transformation as if the blond figure will be the eventual ending form when people idolize her in that blond form. Not too mention that in the trailers alone, we can see her doing some Asian Martial Arts and appeared quite skillful and strong, not sure if it was a common stereotypes for Asians (Kagami); and who knows this stereotype would tie in to her Dragon form as an implied ‘Dragon Lady’ stereotype (a stereotype of certain East Asian and occasionally South Asian and or Southeast Asian women as strong, deceitful, domineering, mysterious, and often sexually alluring,), you could’ve gone for a Giant Panda for her since it is also the National Animal for China, that would have been cute. Speaking of Dragons, there was once a post said that almost all Asians that are transformable heroes (sans Kim) are associated to dragons and all of them are woman?

Maybe I have gone a bit too critical here, let us continue.

Exhibit B: Plot.

Remember some of us are salty because the New York came and that we see that the only reason Adrien could go was Marinette and vice versa? That the movie was pushing the ship not the story? Turns out it is also the same for Shanghai.

Now a handful of officially-verified accounts (associated with ML staffs, VAs, and other officials) that has posted leaks about it, I’ll link you one right here:

https://twitter.com/ladyofacat/status/1372994794759278599

The ones I saw were on Instagram and this is on Twitter.

Basically, the reason why Shanghai existed, not because what we were expecting about Marinette’s and Fei’s Chinese roots and origins at all, not because of introducing the beautiful culture and people of China.

But Adrien was there, and Marinette just wanted to grab Adrien’s attention.

Now first question: Why the fuck is Adrien there? This one special where there is a part of Marinette that she could be her own story, why is Adrien there? Secondly, why does every time that we were so close to have just once, just once about Marinette and only her, she would just take advantage on it because Adrien.

This is really horrifying. By taking advantage of one’s parents, trust and money, to go far far away, highly implied, mostly alone to a land for one of your parents, hopefully to learn, only stalk your crush is insane. Even though Marinette was supposed to be the more prominent one in the Special, it seems that the writers don’t have a better idea centering her except if it revolves Adrien.

Is this what the ML writers thinks? Are they actually okay in worsening our strong-willed and caring girl to the person that cannot live without her crush. Is this what the writers wanted to project? I mean, it is likely that she will learn something about her culture at the end since they still wanted to apply a heartful message to the show, but with her now intention to go and Adrien’s arrival to Shanghai, this is not going to be good.

So between whitewashing representations and poorly written stories to push the ships, I will still watch the show, but even without the spoilers, the ML Shanghai Special would be too predictable now, badly so.

#ml salt #ml shanghai #marinette deserves better #ml #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng

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nincompoopydoo · 3 years ago

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DEBRIS AND MISERY

DOUBT MAKES THE STRONG WEAK ; PART 8 / ?

PAIRING: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader WORD COUNT: 3.5k SUMMARY: From concussions to destruction, you find yourself developing an odd trust in the last two people you would even begin to have faith in and when the apocalypse seems unavoidable, you discover that there may be more to the mystery of the universe. A/N: Well, this chapter is long. And mainly pertains around the theme of 'doubt'. A lot more of Sylvie stuff and Loki just having heart eyes the whole time. I love this chapter and I can’t wait to write more as the story ends. Please tell me what you love, hate, anything (maybe theories lol). Thank you for showing so much love. gif from this gifset by @kamalaskhans WARNINGS: Swearing. Apocalypse. Injuries. Blood. support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERPOST ; MASTERLIST

You were once a fighter.

Hunter E-87 was the name you once knew, hollered through different fields and dimensions in time and space. You fought for what you thought was right, pledging allegiance to a cosmic establishment that held all power to a single timeline and never questioned the works of the Time-Keepers. The Sacred Timeline is indeed sacrosanct, too important, too valuable to interfere. You fight in the name of the single thread of time, the bark of a tree, forbidden to bare branches of a potential multiverse. You fight because the thought of alternate timelines used to scare you. Yet, if alternate universes were meant to be, the lives you took and destroyed are now in the grasp of your bloody hands. You hold the responsibility of the death of the innocent, taking part in mass genocide.

But promises must be kept.

The thought constantly haunts you in your sleep. You have dreams of death, war, destruction, and famine from across the universe. People seem to glide like specters in the world built by your imagination and mind. You have seen a lot, more than any being in the universe should, but no one talks about the aftermath of witnessing the tragedy of the universe as time goes on and on. No one talks about what it does to the mind. Music from cassettes and the wonder of human space exploration were distractions to cope with the grinding hole in you and the fact you might be turning truly crazy.

Sometimes, you would like to be human—Fewer problems and less time to live.

You blame the sickening and bizarre vivid images that come and go whenever you close your eyes as a symptom of being a hunter. The others are stronger than you. Well, they act like they are. Becoming an analyst made you sleep better but there was always doubt. Sakaar made you doubt.

Doubt makes the strong weak. Doubt makes you weak.

“You startin’ to have doubts?”

Green eyes. They watch you with curiosity with a hint of amusement. You hear yourself hum. “Would it be bad if I said yes?”

He laughs. It’s mighty. “Yeah. Definitely bad.”

A beat of silence. You feel your eyes start to sting. “I couldn’t even tell my mom.” A laugh escapes your lips despite the hurt you feel in your chest. “Did you tell anyone? Your wife?”

You see him now, blonde hair slicked back and deep-set eyes. He shakes his head. “Nope. Not even my wife.”

“She’ll be proud, you know.”

“I know...So will your mom. Jesus, you’re gonna be the first woman on—”

Wake up.

“—Is she dead?”

The voice is familiar. It pulls you back to reality but right now, your eyes are too heavy. Doubt is the first emotion that waves through your brain before the process of pain can even occur—uncertain if you are dead or alive.

You can’t feel your limbs, they are too weak.

Doubt makes the strong weak. Doubt makes you weak.

Maybe, you are dead.

“This is your fault! You’re the one who swung that sword of yours to her head! You’re careless—”

Sword...Sword...Careless? You remember a train, a fight.

“Oh, I’m the one who’s careless? You’re the one who’s drunk!”

Drunk...Who was drunk?

Then, your voice echoes in your head, images of a certain brunette with a deep frown. He called you a mewling quim. You quoted Hávamál. You then left him and wandered through the other cabins of the train. He blew his cover. He got you into a fight.

Loki. Loki Laufeyson.

Son of a bitch.

Your eyes are wide open now. All you see are the faces of Loki and Sylvie, looming over you. Just two floating heads. Then, the pain arrives, coursing through the entire back of your head. You wince in immediate reaction and the floating heads turn to you in an instant.

What a way to wake up from a concussion.

You remember everything now, but you certainly don’t recall being on the outside of the train. Must have gotten thrown out. The thought angers you, irritation practically boiling to the brim. Yet, it’s your fault. You hadn't thought to babysit the very person you wish were dead. As your palm grips onto the dirt beneath, muscling all strength left to lift yourself. Your head feels light and heavy all at once. Not good.

“Are you alright?” is the question that flies from Loki’s lips, tinged with an emotion you never knew he had for another but himself—worry. Whether selfless or selfish, you wish to ignore the complexity of Loki’s reactions and possible change in character, especially towards you. Ever since you stepped foot on Lamentis, all you felt was pain. You have never been injured so much within the last few hours than in your entire life and weirdly, you feel fine.

Sylvie is quick to stand, watching the two of you work in tandem. His grip finds the curve of your shoulders as you stick your hand out to grip him by the bicep. At your touch, you notice how his arm stiffens ever so slightly. You don’t say anything.

Some things about Loki are best left unknown and unanswered.

Today is filled with a lot of getting off the ground in the most unceremonious way possible.

A deep exhale leaves your lips, wisps of your hair drifting with the brutal breeze from your nostrils. Beads of sweat trail along the curve of your forehead and the back of your neck. Some entangled with the strands of your hair. Your hands feel clammy and dirty but you run them to push your hair back and away from your face anyway.

“I’m fine,” you mumble, pulling yourself away from his touch.

You finally get a good look at the two. Loki looks like complete shit but Sylvie manages to maintain the regalness to the locks of her hair despite her opposing overall behavior. It’s the Asgardian blood coursing through her veins. You cannot hide your ancestors' blood. It’s hard to believe the two are the same—one being. Yet, it's believable when you’re angry at the two of them.

The two messed up your career, that’s why.

Unbothered and uncivilized. It’s a miracle you’re still alive.

As your eyes shift along the train tracks that meander along a gorge with steep rocky walls that leer above it, you catch sight of a spark by your feet, glinting under the iridescent sky.

It’s the TemPad, shattered into pieces; you recognize the color gold of its border.

Your eyes grow wide, mouth agape. You don’t even feel angry anymore, it’s more than that. You stick out your hand to gesture towards the destroyed device, “Is that—Is that the TemPad?” you ask as your other hand lifts to hold the side of your head. “Or am I just seeing things from the concussion?”

Sylvie is the one to speak. “It’s not the concussion.”

You suddenly feel like you’re burning.

If it were possible, you could have instantly killed him with a look.

“You. You killed us!” you step closer to him and for a moment, Loki doesn’t exactly know what to do. “So, it’s my fault then? You were the one who left me alone in the lounge.” are the words that leave his lips. Completely useless. Trying to diffuse the tension is the exact opposite of what he does.

His silver tongue isn’t so shiny and silver anymore.

You don’t pull your blow this time. Your palm strikes his cheek, rocking his head to the side. Your hand is oddly soft. Loki winces and you stand your ground. “You’re a jerk and an asshole. You’ve probably been called that for all your life and yet, here you are. Still, the most insensitive and pathetic man I’ve ever met,” you articulate your words with frustration and rage. You don’t raise your voice like before, it’s low and frightfully intimidating. “And I’m not your babysitter.”

—

Battles, ruination, and fracas gave a sense of familiarity to Sylvie in a time of an impending apocalypse. When worlds end, benevolence is resolute. The tragedy of the end of lost souls—afraid to die. But as daunting as the apocalypse is, the beauty of their souls finally returning to the universe protrudes amongst the debris and misery.

She sees herself in the two of you, as much as she doesn’t identify as a Loki anymore, and her hatred towards the TVA. You have a temper and he doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.

You’re mysterious in an almost enchanting way and possibly significant as you seemed to be at first glance. Sylvie is highly curious about you.

You don’t stray too far from the group, only to find rest by the edge of a pit made by a crashing meteor. You sit with your back turned against the very two beings you distrust as you watch the border where the bustling city of Shuroo is based. Your guard is down and you don’t care at this point. Everyone is about to die anyway.

Sylvie’s gaze finds Loki who seems to be only watching the back of your still figure, eyes glinting with an emotion unknown to her. Possibly regret? Sylvie doesn’t know what regret looks like. But fear and anger, she feels it radiating from you. She knows it. Something tells her you’re not solely angry at her and Loki.

She finds herself drifting closer to you. You don’t move. She cautiously settles beside you. “You’re not hiding a knife somewhere, aren’t you?”

You merely scoff, caressing your head, “You’re the one to say.”

Sylvie blinks. Fair enough.

Silence. Sylvie’s eyes shift to the handkerchief tied around your arm, stained with blood. “How’s the arm?”

You hum. “Surprisingly, fine.”

Oh, Sylvie knows it’s fine. She knows what Loki did. She decides not to mention the scratch she made across your cheek.

“Did the slap make you feel better?”

The question is hinted at near sarcasm, but genuinely, she wants to know.

“Yes, it did. You should try it sometime.”

She simply hums. “I would have but you beat me to it.”

A turn of your lips as they curve into a small smile. Sylvie watches with an odd sense of satisfaction. “You know, I’m still mad at you. For what you did to me.” Your words are slow. You find yourself swallowing. “But it’s nothing compared to what the TVA did to you.”

Empathy. Is this what empathy feels like? The moment when someone finally understands what it’s like to be alone for so long. Your lives are different but they reflect in certain ways. You have had your fair share of living in constant fear and constantly running. Sylvie finds herself wanting to tell you that she hadn’t simply pushed you into Sakaar. When it’s a mission, things are never accidental. She always has a plan.

Yet, she chooses not to say anything.

You speak again but merely whisper, fidgeting with your fingers, “Before Sakaar—did you enchant me?”

It's as if you're reading her mind.

“Are you seeing things?”

After a pause, the fidgeting stops.

“I’ve seen things all my life, images. Brief and insignificant. But ever since I was in Sakaar, it’s gotten a lot harder to differentiate a dream and a memory.”

“That’s because they aren’t dreams.”

Your hardened gaze finds hers for a brief moment, nearly growing wide at her words but in an instant, your guard is up once you hear the shuffling of feet behind you where Loki lingers. The subject is dropped immediately. He meets Sylvie’s gaze, the two share a knowing look.

Your anger is provoked and well deserved and yet, the last thing he wants is to be your enemy. Loki doesn’t know why. He has lived a life full of them.

You’re different.

He stills, wondering if you’re going to lash out at him again but when he notices your slow breaths, he decides to sit next to you anyway, awkward glances to you in his periphery. A deep sigh escapes his lips, fiddling with his fingers. “What now?”

Sylvie is the one to answer. “I don’t know. You broke the TemPad.”

“Well—”

“And that planet is about to crash into us.”

Loki looks up at the nearing planet of Lamentis. He blinks. “Well, yes, but—”

“Yes, but what?”

“Well, the entire moon is destroyed, right?”

Sylvie is trying to suppress your growing annoyance. “Yep. And everyone on it is killed.”

But Loki pesters on. “Including us.”

She raises her voice. “Yes, including us.” Loki glances at you momentarily. A pause. He furrows his brows in thought.

“What about the ark?”

“The ark never leaves because it's destroyed.”

Suddenly, an epiphany, his eyes light up. He turns to you and Sylvie, “Never had us on it.”

You suddenly scoff at his words. “Are you suggesting we hijack the ark and make sure it gets off this moon?” You turn to him to only spot a vague smile playing upon his lips. He nods in return. “Sounds like a good idea to me, Agent.”

You merely blink, watching the way his eyes shift across your face. First, you’re struck with uncertainty. It’s a risk, a huge one but you know, risks are meant to be uncertain. Risks are also vital in success. Hesitation, doubt—they make you weak. This time, you want to be strong. Strong enough for one last push to save your life.

“Okay.” is what you say, your expression reflecting his.

For the first time, since he took your hand in Sakaar, you’re starting to trust him.

—

The walk to Shuroo seemed endless. You trail behind the two, feeling like you’re about to suffocate.

“—To preserve the connection, I have to create a fantasy from their memories.”

Loki and Sylvie had been conversing about the science and functions of enchantment in a rather surprisingly calm manner. Loki hums, amused by her elucidation. “And you call me a magician.”

Her expression is unchanged as she continues to trudge alongside Loki, ignoring his previous statement. “That young soldier from the TVA, her mind was messed up. Everything clouded. I had to pull a memory from hundreds of years prior...before she even fought for them.”

Loki halts abruptly in his step, hand flying to grab Sylvie’s arm. “What? What'd you say? Before she joined the TVA?”

Sylvie blinks. “Yeah. She was just a regular person on Earth.”

His mind starts to reel, face muddled with confusion. “I was told that everyone who works for the TVA was created by the Time-Keepers.”

“That's ridiculous. They're all variants, just like us. Including her.” Sylvie gestures discreetly to you who has stopped to take a breather, hands on your hips as you blink up to the sky.

You, Mobius, all of them. All variants.

“They don't know that. She doesn’t know that.” he breathes a terrified expression.

Sylvie looks at you from afar. You’re now looking at them with a bewildered expression. “What?” you call out, voice echoing through the wide area, in a somewhat defensive tone.

She turns to Loki once more, voice nearly faltering. “I have a feeling she already knows it.”

—

Loki doesn’t realize the unfamiliarity of hopelessness. Throughout his life, he was constantly surrounded by those with unfaltering determination—His brother, family, friends who were warriors, The Avengers.

Never was it known that he would see it burning in your eyes as they reflect the growing fire of the Ark, crumbling down, tongues of fire engulfing it whole before you. His heart burns with it as Shuroo falls quiet—only the sounds of the metallic crashing of the disintegrating parts of the ship falling from above and the screams of the rich and deemed worthy to live. Every Lamentian still alive held their breath, a moment's silence for their lives must end. Everything must end.

So close yet so far.

Sylvie is gone by the minute as the city starts to descend in terror and panic. He stands behind your still form, just watching your only chance of making it out, swallowed by its own billowing smoke. He reaches out for you, tugging you by the sleeve. “We should leave,” he says with a sudden sense to protect you. There isn’t much to do at this point. It doesn't matter if you are hit by the falling pieces of the Ark because you are all going to die anyway.

But he considers it a gesture, as insignificant and small it is. The least he could do is to distract you from the end, whether for a mere second or minutes.

“I know things haven’t been the best between us and I concede I bring out the worst in you, but I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

You turn to Loki with his sudden words. He watches the way your expression softens so gracefully, face adorned with gashes and wounds. Your mouth twitches as you respond with a gentle voice. “I forgive you.”

Three words. Very powerful words.

His heart skips a beat.

You find Sylvie at the brink of the city, sitting on a stretched slab of rock amongst the dirt, watching the horizon where the planet starts to meet the moon. Loki still has his hand around your arm, but you don’t complain. It’s your only source of support at the moment. It’s an unconscious move, but everything about it feels right when the two of you settle beside her, shoulders brushing against each other. It only makes sense to want to feel the nearness, the closeness of another as the light at the end of the tunnel begins to dim.

It’s impending. It’s scary.

“I remember Asgard.”

Sylvie’s voice trembles, her eyes are somber.

“Not much, but I remember. My home, my people, my life. Then, the TVA showed up, erased my reality, and took me, prisoner. I was just a child.”

You turn to her, guilt bubbling in your chest, but you don’t say anything. You let her speak. It’s only right.

“I escaped.” she breathes, blinking the brimming tears in her eyes away. ”Stole a TemPad and I ran for a long, long time, which really sucked. Everywhere and every-when I went, it caused a Nexus event.”

Sylvie turns to you with a melancholic gaze. “The universe wants to break free, so it manifests chaos. Like me being born the Goddess of Mischief. But to you and the TVA, I’m not supposed to exist.”

For so long, you hadn’t realized the consequences of your work at the TVA. You believed you were right. That erasing, resetting realities were meant to be. You cannot comprehend how it only occurred to you to question the authority of the Time-Keepers over time itself after Sakaar. All those years of being ignorant and selfish. You hadn’t realized. You never did.

But now you know.

Sylvie continues, gaze shifting away from you. “I figured out where to hide. And so that's where I grew up, the ends of a thousand worlds. Now...that's where I'll die.”

Then, silence. It sits heavily between the three of you.

“The universe—isn’t she beautiful?” Your voice is soft, eyes trained on the horizon—a fleet of asteroids, they reflect the end. But they seem to dance to the silence of the apocalypse, drifting across the stratosphere, lining the firmament. Loki’s gaze shifts to you, training on every curve of your face and the tears slipping down your cheeks. He agrees, the universe is beautiful.

You’re beautiful.

“She brings turmoil, agony, and destruction but in all her flaws, there’s beauty in her very existence.”

Your hands find Sylvie and Loki’s hands, holding on to them tightly as you fight the wavering of your voice.

“You...Both of you might be the epitome of chaos but you must know that you have such beautiful souls. All of us, we're her children...and if she is beautiful, so are we. And the Universe is always right. If she created you then we are wrong.”

Sylvie’s face is soft. Loki squeezes your hand.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I should have known from the start...that the TVA was lying to all of us. I should have questioned. I should have doubted—”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault,” she says, smiling with saddened eyes.

You laugh. You don’t know why, but you do. Maybe, it’s because you know you are a part of the problem anyway, even if you were just doing your job.

You find Loki’s gaze that’s already on you. You sigh and speak through a whisper. “I’m sorry for slapping you.”

His lips curve into a grin, eyes crinkling like your own. “It was well deserved, but I forgive you.”

Fingers entangled with the hands of two unlikely people, you finally realize what it truly feels like to not be alone. To be in the company of someone you want to be with.

“Now long now.” Those three words leave the very lips of Sylvie and your chest feels like it’s about to collapse.

You never knew you were afraid of death, yet here you are—terrified.

The ground shakes beneath you. It’s dark and there’s fire everywhere. A meteor collides to the ground just across the way, it sends smoke billowing to its surroundings faster than you can blink.

Even in the last seconds of your life, you have doubts remaining. What if the universe isn’t always right?

Then, through the growing dust, you see a spark, like lightning. A glint of a figure, standing before you. White, pure, and serene. You’re standing now, staring ahead. Sylvie and Loki cease to exist in your mind as they gaze at you with bewilderment. They anxiously call you by your name but you don’t hear it. There’s only silence now, you don’t hear anything but the ringing in your ears.

A voice, she speaks with dignity. A voice so familiar.

“Doubt makes the strong weak, my child.”

Then, you hear it. A soft hum—a Time Door glows warmth amid your impending death.

Suddenly, she’s gone.

TAGLIST:

@lareinedususpense

@poubxlle

@mystoragehatesme

@the-maroon-panda

@kashasenpai

@nyxrae

@johnmurphys-sass

#loki #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki imagine #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson oneshot #loki oneshot #loki x you #loki laufeyson x you #loki series #loki spoilers #sylvie #sylvie laufeyson

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