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coffeestainsandcashmere · 4 years ago

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Let No Man Steal Your Thyme - (older Dramione) Chapter Six

Thank you for your patience with this one, folks. Here it is. All 7k words of it... Thank you too for the beautiful anonymous (and otherwise) owls you’ve sent me! I can’t tell you how lovely that’s been!

If this were on AO3 (which it will be when it’s complete), the rating would have gone up to “E - Explicit”, so please make sure you’re the appropriate age to consume it (18+).

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

___

Hermione apparated into an unassuming and rather ugly back street in Whitechapel and took a moment to straighten herself out afterwards. A fine, sheeting mizzle had begun sometime around midday, shrouding the whole of London in a choking, miserable haze, and it hadn’t let up since. It was nothing a subtle impervius charm couldn’t ward off, of course, though it sent Muggles scuttling for shelter or huddling beneath umbrellas in a way that never failed to make her heart twinge just a little for a life that was long behind her.

Miraculously, her hair behaved itself despite the humidity, and had complied with both will and wand so that it now fell in loose ringlets around her shoulders. It was all held in place with more charm-work than she’d done on herself in a very long time, but even she had to admit that she’d done a pretty decent job of it. Pansy would be proud. She just hoped the dress would do its job too and flatter her in the way Theo and Pansy had both promised it would when she’d bought it.

As her heels clicked along on the uneven pavement, she wished there was a charm to ward of self-consciousness. After years of scruffy jeans and soft, woollen jumpers, the dress seemed rather snug around the areas she’d grown a little shy about, but she drew on the well of experience from her Ministry days, squared her shoulders, and set off towards the address Draco had sent her by owl.

Rounding the corner, she nearly stumbled in her heels as she drew up suddenly short. Standing with arms folded, shoulder blades pressed heedlessly against the masonry of the building behind him and his whole body tense as a piano string, stood Draco Malfoy, scowling. Whereas she had forgone a bulky cloak in favour of a warming charm, he cut quite the figure in the heavy, black garment, fastened at the throat with a silver clasp that seemed to match his hair.

As her heels announced her approach, he looked up, looked away, did a double take, and then levered himself off the wall with a slightly slack-jawed expression.

Theo was right, she smiled to herself. I probably owe him a drink now or something.

When she came to a halt in front of Malfoy, she couldn't help the way her lips twitched. He looked a little like he’d been slapped. “Evening,” she chirped, and watched his throat work as he swallowed thickly, pupils blown wide in the dark.

“Granger,” he said. “You… You look…” He floundered, and then to her immense surprise and absolute delight, his cheeks flushed a deep, vivid pink and he looked away.

“Likewise,” she laughed, ostentatiously eyeing him up and down, though the cloak revealed little. “Though that was pretty much a given.”

“I didn’t mean —” he began, snapping his gaze back to her face with his grey eyes wide. “You just…” Then he laughed and forcibly relaxed his shoulders, exhaling through his nose. “I should have known you’d leave me a babbling idiot again,” he muttered, subtly offering her the crook of his elbow. “It’s like third year all over again.”

“Third year?” she said as she accepted and slid her fingers under his arm. “I punched you in the face in third year.”

“Mmm,” he said. “And I don’t think I ever truly got over it.”

She laughed and he relaxed a little more beneath her touch. “So I’ve never actually heard of this place, but Theo said you have to know the owner just to get a table…?”

“Yes,” Draco said. “I hope you don’t think it’s too much, but after everyone was staring at us in the Leaky, I thought it might be nice to go somewhere where people have a bit more… discretion… My mother’s side of the family has been friends with the owner’s for generations.”

“I’m sure it’ll be perfect,” she said as he steered her towards a blind arcade of sandy-coloured bricks that flanked a large stretch of the street.

“It’s concealed with an enchantment like the one at Kings Cross,” he said as they approached the third one in the row. Glancing up and down the street, he stepped halfway into the wall and held his hand out for her to take, as if she were a lady about to alight into a carriage. He clearly saw her burning with interest about the spellwork and added, “Some scholars believe it was the first instance of the charm’s use in London.”

She beamed at him, took his hand, and allowed him to steer her through the wall.

When they emerged on the other side of the illusion, she found herself in a cosy, dark-tiled entrance hall, illuminated with tiny lumos charms. A waiter in smart, black and white livery appeared almost immediately from the main restaurant beyond, and bowed politely. “Lord Black,” he said and then turned to her and offered a seemingly genuine smile. “Ms. Granger. If you’d like to follow me please. My lord, may I take your cloak?”

Malfoy unclasped it and handed it to the man, but Hermione wasn’t watching that. She was too busy staring at the way he looked in his suit beneath.

Draco Malfoy had always been a creature of harsh lines and a cool palette, but this time the sight of him actually robbed her of breath. Though his outfit was understatedly simple, the slate-blue suit, with a crisp white shirt and a silvery tie had clearly been made bespoke for him, and it fitted him to perfection, emphasising slim hips, long, lean legs, and a breadth to his shoulders that spoke of strength without raw bulk. The only hint of colour to him lay in the residual flush from the cold in his pale cheeks, but his eyes sparkled warmly enough.

“Shall we?” he murmured, a hint of shy embarrassment to the corners of his mouth that she’d rarely seen in his youth, and she nodded, still mute. She wasn’t sure if he was shy about the waiter’s ‘my lord’ or the way she was gawking at him like a teenage fan at a Weird Sisters concert.

He ushered her in front of him, and she followed the waiter through the restaurant.

All the while they walked, she was intensely aware of Draco behind her.

Naturally, once she’d got past all the initial ‘oh my god is my skirt tucked up into my knickers’ panic, she tried a little experiment and began to sway her hips a little more than usual. Pansy had once told her she had the walk of a ‘dowdy headmistress charging down a corridor towards the sound of troublemakers’. Even if she’d said it in jest, it hadn’t exactly inspired confidence in her ability to sashay sexily through the tables in front of someone she was hoping to impress, but by the time they were settling into her seats, she noted a very slight rise in the colour in Draco’s cheeks again, and chalked it up as a victory regardless.

“Can I get you some drinks while you wait? I’m sure you’re both aware that the restaurant is chef’s choice though.” He did not offer any kind of drinks menu, however, and Hermione’s already fragile courage sputtered.

Draco nodded curtly at the waiter, and then looked expectantly at Hermione, who cleared her throat and said, “Look, Draco, I’m already a tad out of my depth here. I think I’ll leave the decision-making to you tonight and save us both the embarrassment…”

His lips parted slightly, as if he were going to speak, but a soft look crossed his face before he inclined his head. “Wine alright?” he asked and she nodded.

He ordered two glasses of a white he’d never heard of.

Before the waiter left, he enquired about any allergies, and when both replied that they were fortunate enough not to have any, he retreated, and Hermione blew out a soft breath.

“It’s not too much, is it?” Draco asked, shoulders high and tense again. All the recent colour had drained from him, and he looked faintly nauseous.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, gazing around at the vaulted room. “And this is a real treat, Draco. I’m really glad you asked me, though I promised your owl I’d have words with you about her manners. Damn near lost a finger to that beak of hers.”

“Apologies,” he said, voice a little hoarse. “She was a gift from my mother after my own owl was lost after the Battle of Hogwarts. She’s been a menace to me and my unfortunate correspondents ever since.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. The bird was much older than she’d expected, but then again she shouldn’t have been that surprised; the Weasley’s had had Errol seemingly for generations after all before he’d finally snuffed it.

She hadn’t really taken note of the other patrons of the restaurant on their short journey through the tables to the secluded alcove, but now she glanced around again and saw that the place was full, though there couldn’t have been more than fifteen covers. The other diners were not witches or wizards she recognised, and no one seemed to be paying anyone else the slightest bit of attention, to her relief.

Relaxing a little, she looked back at Draco who sat with his hands folded neatly atop the dark wood of the table, his silver signet ring glinting softly in the light of the little candle between them. His gaze was intense, and his expression a little awkward. He was as nervous as she was, she realised. Maybe more.

He pursed his lips briefly and then said, “It’s quite different from a lot of the restaurants in Diagon Alley, largely because of the building’s history, I think.” He stopped, as if worried he was about to bore her and instead blurted quietly, “I’m glad you like it.”

The place had clearly once been an enormous foundry building, but since being repurposed, it had been divided up from one open casting hall into cosy little niches and alcoves of sandstone brick, with large, industrial panes of glass filling the spaces between the dividing arches. It felt private without being claustrophobic; atmospheric but not dingy or oppressive.

Taking another breath, Hermione smiled at him and admitted, “It’s been so long since I’ve been out for dinner with anyone, Draco. It’s almost embarrassing really. And Theo doesn’t count in this context,” she added with a flash of her eyes.

“Likewise,” he muttered, carefully pouring her a glass of water from the carafe between them before filling his own.

Again, she noted his hands. Somehow they were simultaneously the elegant hands of a nobleman and the rough, scarred hands of a man who used them for a living — spotted and flecked with innumerable small scars — and she found herself instantly fascinated by the story they held. The last person she could recall with hands in that condition was Professor Snape.

She nearly said that Draco at least had good reason for not going on dates with every witch in Britain, being a widower, but she bit it back and said, “Well, that should make things easier for both of us. Tell me though, I’m dying to know why you had to go to France at such short notice. Your letter was too cryptic.”

Draco’s face softened and he sipped his water. “We have estates there still,” he said, not meeting her gaze. “One of the wards was triggered, so I arranged a portkey to check up on it, but it was nothing in the end.”

“Nothing? Come on; it usually takes magic to trip a ward, Malfoy. There has to be some story there…?”

His eyelashes looked like strands of silk in the candlelight, pale and silvery as they framed his grey eyes, and she almost forgot to listen to his story as he flicked his gaze back up to meet hers again.

“It really isn’t very interesting. One of our tenants has an elderly mother and she is unfortunately not as… compos mentis as she once was. She used to work as a maid for my maternal great-grandmother. It turned out that she had wandered up to the main house in the middle of the night, spoken some long-forgotten spell to gain admission, and had tried to prepare breakfast. Of course, there was nothing in the larder, so she became distressed. Her daughter collected her and sealed the house up again, but the owl didn’t reach me before I left England.”

“I see,” she said. “Another case where modern Muggle communication methods might have come in handy,” she chirped under her breath, and he hummed softly in agreement, though he didn’t seem to understand fully. And then because she was a nose bugger who couldn’t help herself, she asked, “Do you have a lot of properties then? Other than the house in Wiltshire?”

She caught the smile in his eyes and he nodded. “One or two,” he said with bashful modesty. “A number of my father’s holdings and inheritances were confiscated by the Ministry in reparation for war crimes, but my mother was allowed to keep much of what was hers and, by extension, mine.”

“And those are in France?”

He shook his head, and with regret she watched him becoming increasingly uncomfortable. “There’s a place in Scotland - not far from Hogwarts, actually - and one in the arse-end of nowhere in rural Romania. It’s the Malfoy side that has the connections to France, though that one I just mentioned is the only one left to us now.”

“I see. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to pry. I was genuinely curious, that’s all.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “You can ask me whatever you like.”

She smiled and said, “I didn’t even get to inherit my parents’ little house in Surrey because of a complication with the will, so it’s all a world away from what I know… Has Scorpius been to these other places?”

“Not really,” he said, “Though mother and I took him to the vineyard in France last summer before school started.”

Hermione tipped her head back, exposing her neck a little, and smiled. “My parents used to take me to France during the summer holidays,” she said dreamily. “Little stone cottages that smelled of lavender, with long, dusty driveways and rooms that stayed chilly no matter temperature outside. Sometimes when it got really hot, those adorable little lizards used to come out and bask in the sun on the wall. My parents were dentists, so we weren’t exactly all that short of money growing up —” nothing like you though, she wanted to add but didn’t “— and they always tried to choose a place with a swimming pool. I used to love to swim.”

Draco’s expression was unreadable, but there was a light in his silver eyes that shone like a full moon. He swallowed thickly and had been on the point of speaking when the waiter returned with their wine and a small amuse-bouche for them.

He set the tiny plates down and stepped back. “Blini with trout roe caviar and crème fraiche.”

“Thank you,” Draco and she said as one, and the waiter nodded and left them to it.

Draco raised his glass and Hermione tried not to stare at his long fingers or the way he held it so gracefully by the stem as he lifted it. She felt like she might fumble and drop hers if she tried to emulate that, but she did her best. After all, she’d endured a fair few dinners and functions at the Ministry, so she was hardly about to embarrass herself now, however hard Draco seemed to make it.

“Thank you for…” Draco began, trailing off into uncertainty. His eyes turned glassy and he blinked rapidly a couple of times. “Well, thank you for giving me a shot, Granger. I know I have a lot to make up for still, but thank you for joining me tonight.”

She smiled and playfully chinked her glass against his. As the soft chime of glass on glass dissipated, she said, “Like I told Theo after his little chat, to which I understand you were also subjected —” he nodded wryly but let her continue uninterrupted “— I wouldn’t be here if I believed you were still the same person you were at Hogwarts. There was so much going on back then, and we were all pawns in a larger game to one extent or another. By this point, I’m honestly happy to let the past lie and look forward.”

He exhaled expansively. “I’ll drink to that,” he muttered.

Their food when it arrived was incredible; never too much (or too little, she was pleased to note), or too fancy so as to be basically inedible. They talked lightly while they ate, mostly of the goings on of people they had in common: Theo and Dan, Pansy, and Blaise.

By the time they were halfway through dessert, Draco said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” she smiled. “Why should you be open to any and all questions, but not me?”

“Just because I said that about me, doesn’t mean you have to take the same stance, Granger.”

“True, but this is a date, right?”

He swallowed. “If you’d like it to be.”

“All on me?” she chuckled. “I’ll admit I was rather hoping it was.”

“Then it’s a date,” he said quietly.

“Well, shouldn’t dates be about getting to know the person better? Ask away, Malfoy. Whatever you’ve got, I can take it.” Within reason, she added privately.

His answering smile was dazzling, and it brought little dimples to his cheeks that she’d not noticed before. It made her heart beat oddly in her chest, and a new heat pulsed between her legs.

“Good lord, Malfoy,” she hissed, “You’re handsome when you smile like that.”

He pursed his lips and flushed a dark pink right up to his ears.

“Sorry,” she said, still laughing a little. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. But I’d be happy to encourage more smiles like that in the future. What was your question?”

He opened his mouth, cheeks still pink, but his eyes turned serious. “Why did you really quit your job as Minister? You were so young…”

“I peaked too soon,” she shrugged easily enough, though she felt the playful mirth settling down again in a way that had nothing to do with the chocolate dessert lying heavy in her stomach.

She sat back in her seat and picked up the remnants of her wine, swirling it thoughtfully for a moment.

“I felt like…” she stopped and changed tack. “At school I felt like all I amounted to was how smart I could be, you know?”

His brows flickered into a frown, but he didn’t interrupt her.

“I didn’t have the looks of someone like Fleur or Cho, or… Lavender,” she said, raising her eyebrows inadvertently. “All I really had to validate myself was my latest test score, or how useful I was to Harry, or how much research I could condense into one last-minute panic whenever the latest life-threatening event popped up…” She sighed. “I think that set me up for failure when I left school and discovered it wasn’t all about grades and how many facts you could regurgitate.” After a slight pause, she cocked her head and said, “Nobody likes a smart-arse after all.”

The brief colour in Malfoy’s face had drained to parchment white again as he listened, and he sat perfectly straight in his seat, tense and serious once more.

Nervously, she began to babble a little. “So… I obviously cottoned on to that after I started at the Ministry, and I adapted, and I did pretty well at the DMLE. They kept asking me to be an Auror because of my spellwork, but I freeze up completely under pressure, and I’m a terrible dualist, so that was out of the question. I do much better behind the scenes - always have. But…” she sighed and drank a little more wine as her monologue threatened to run away with her. “To answer your original question, I lost sight of where the line was,” she said.

“What line?”

She shook her head, loose ringlets shivering with the motion. “The line between work and family, I suppose. I took on more and more work to try and prove my value, and stayed later and later every night at the Ministry. I didn’t even realise I was losing our marriage until it was far, far too late. Ron and I argued an awful lot towards the end, but somehow it was still a shock to me when he asked for a divorce.”

She tucked a stray ringlet behind her ear, revealing a simple silver earring.

“It was like I was so wrapped up in all this work — which I could have delegated, but I was still it doing anyway because…” she puffed her cheeks out and shrugged, “…because that’s just what the Minister for Magic does, right?” With a final sigh she finished her wine and said, “So a week after the divorce went through, I was sitting in my office, and I looked at all the memos still zipping around in front of me, and I just thought… ‘this is my life. This is all I am’, and I quit that afternoon.”

“Brave of you,” he murmured.

“I didn’t feel like it at the time,” she said, grateful beyond words at his reaction. No one, bar perhaps Harry, had reacted that way back then. They’d all thought she was nuts. “I spent a month in a Muggle cottage in the middle of nowhere in Pembrokeshire, and then another five months back here in London doing almost nothing. I was a complete mess. It was around then that Ginny got pregnant with Lily, so I was there for her quite a bit, looking after Albus and James and teaching them. That was fun. I really enjoyed that. I think… I think brought me back down after the chaos of quitting my job like that, you know?”

“Children can do that,” he commented wryly. “You and Weasley never had any though.”

She’d seen the blow coming — set herself up perfectly for it — but it still caught her full in the chest. She swallowed and shook her head, unable to look him in the eye for reasons she hoped to keep secret from him. “We tried, but…” she shrugged. “It wasn’t to be. Not long after that though, I saw the advert for the bookshop, and I’ve never looked back.”

Draco frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“It was probably for the best anyway. I don’t think I’d have made a good mother back then. I barely made time for myself, let alone for a family.” She cleared her throat and then asked, “Speaking of sprogs, did you find out why Scorpius is in detention?”

He barked a laugh at that and she found herself relaxing again as he let her artlessly change subjects.

“My dear little mandrake somehow brewed a stink bomb in his dormitory and set it off in the library near some Gryffindors. They’d apparently been mocking Albus for being a Potter in Slytherin. Did the job so well that the Gryffindors smelled of rotten eggs for a week, no matter what they tried to get rid of it.” He seemed quietly proud of Scorpius for that, and she couldn’t really blame him, knowing what a talent Draco himself had had for potions back then.

Her face did darken at the news of Albus being bullied though, and she made a note to check in on Harry. Then she reeled back through his last sentence, to the part where he’d called Scorpius his ‘dear little mandrake’, and chuckled. “You still call him that then?”

“What, ‘mandrake’?” Malfoy seemed surprised by her question.

“Mm.”

“If the shoe fits, Granger. I’ve never heard of a child that could scream like Scorpius, so when you dubbed him that, it kind of stuck.”

A huge smile dawned on her face and her stomach swooped somehow.

“What?” he asked.

“Draco Malfoy is a huge sap,” she said. “Who’d have thought it?”

He rolled his grey eyes but couldn’t keep the answering smile off his face. “Don’t broadcast it, Granger.”

“It’ll be our secret, I promise,” she said.

Draco’s gaze slid over her shoulder a little while later and he signalled the waiter with a subtle raising of his pale eyebrows.

When the man appeared, it was not to take payment in coins the way every other wizarding establishment did, but it was with a parchment and quill for him to sign. It struck her as oddly modern for the magical world, akin to a cheque or even a credit card. Transaction complete, the waiter departed, leaving behind a small tray of delicate petit fours.

“Draco, I don’t think I can eat another thing,” she said, looking wistfully at them.

“I can ask them to box them up for us if you'd prefer?” he said.

With that done, they rose and headed out. Draco collected his cloak and swirled it around his shoulders, and they stepped through the illusory wall and back into a damp, Muggle London.

“Draco,” she whispered, standing on the pavement beside him and becoming very aware of just how tall he was now, even with her heels to help.

His eyes were dark, pupils wide once more, as he regarded her. “Mmm?”

“I don’t want tonight to end,” she whispered. “Isn’t that silly?” She almost sobbed as she thought about going back to her sorry little empty apartment after spending all evening either smiling or laughing or really just… talking.

“No,” he replied. After a beat of silence, he hissed, “Granger, may I kiss you?”

“Yes,” she breathed, and parted her lips as he brought his warm, slightly rough hands to her jawline and held her delicately. He moved as if he were convinced he still wasn’t allowed to touch her at all, but when she smiled up at him, he exhaled roughly and returned it faintly.

Then he leaned down, angling his head slightly to the left, and brushed his lips against hers so lightly she almost missed it. He still tasted of chocolate and wine, but she chased the retreating gesture hungrily, pressing her lips against his, placing her hands on his hips and drawing their bodies together. She could feel how sharp his hipbones were through the fabric of his trousers and it made her ache inside and out to map his body.

Draco moaned and his eyes fluttered closed as he kissed her; gently at first, and then, as a fire kindled in him, he became more demanding. His teeth nipped at her lower lip followed by the tantalising brush of his tongue that left her tingling all over. Unquestioningly, she let him deepen their kiss until they were both breathless, and she could feel his growing arousal where she pressed her body against his.

Panting, Draco finally drew back, still without taking his hands from her face. He stood stooped, his eyes closed, his teeth sunk into his lip. “Granger,” he breathed at last.

“Are you going back to the Manor?” she asked, feeling slightly giddy.

“No, I have a flat in London. If you… If you wanted to come back with me, you’d… you'd be most welcome.”

“Is it far?”

“We’re probably best apparating from here,” he said, finally lowering his hands, though he didn't step back.

She could have counted every one of his silver lashes if she’d had the concentration for it. As it was, her core burned, and she was suddenly wetter and more turned on than she could ever remember being.

“You could side-along if you’d like?” he rasped.

She frowned, the fog in her mind starting to clear just a fraction. “You don’t have wards up?” When he pursed his lips, the knut dropped and she laughed. “You already adjusted them? That confident were we, Malfoy? I don't know whether to be impressed or insulted…”

His cheeks darkened and he chuckled. “More like… I was being hopelessly optimistic. But I don’t want you to feel pressured, Granger. We can call it a night here if you’d prefer.”

“Thank you for that,” she said quickly, but she took hold of his fingers where they rested by his side, and squeezed his hand. “But we’re not in our twenties, and we don’t have to pretend to wait for the third date or whatever to know what we want. Besides,” she added with a glint in her eyes, “If I have to go any longer than another few seconds without your mouth on me again, I may just explode.”

Pleasantly stunned by her affirmation, Malfoy recovered quickly, and kissed her again. It was not chaste or fleeting this time. “Ready?” he asked when he eventually straightened.

She nodded, and clung to him as the unpleasant, hook-like apparition spell took hold of both of them and yanked them across London to the centre of Malfoy’s living room.

He let her catch her breath before robbing her of it once again with kiss after kiss, over and over. Then he moved his attention down her neck until she was gasping, chest heaving, and hot all over. Her small clutch hit the floorboards as her fingers went limp, and he shrugged off his cloak and jacket, dumping the clothes on the nearby white sofa before returning to her.

She had barely had time to take in the sleek, austere, and rather soulless furnishings of the apartment before he was sucking a bruise at her collarbone and she flung her head back with a broken cry of pleasure.

“Gods, Granger,” he said between kisses. “I’ve wanted to do that to you all evening.”

“You have?” she laughed as his hands skimmed down her sides to her hips and gripped her tightly.

He growled something inarticulate and then moved his touch to the zip at the back of her dress. “May I?”

“I’ve thought about you doing that all evening,” she said playfully, eliciting another growl from him before he had turned her and drawn the zip all the way down to the small of her back.

“Oh Merlin and Morgana,” he purred appreciatively under his breath as he began kissing her where she stood, working his way over her shoulder blade and down to her bra clasp. He raked his teeth over the slightly freckled skin of her back and then delicately drew the shoulders of her dress down so that the fabric pooled around her waist, leaving her upper body exposed in only her bra.

He moved her to face him again and continued to undress her, staring wide eyed and hungrily at her in a way that made her squirm, heat and wetness pooling between her legs. When he got to her matching underwear, he knelt before her on the floorboards and kissed her lower stomach and hips before sliding his fingertips under the dark lace and caressing the impossibly sensitive skin where her groin met her thigh.

“Granger, sit back for me?” he asked and she sank, shaky-kneed, onto the sofa behind her. Self-consciousness crashed through her as he continued to stare openly at her and she swallowed.

Clearly sensing something was wrong, he looked up and frowned. “Is… Is this alright?” he asked, hands faltering where his fingertips rested on the inside of her thighs.

“Yeah,” she said truthfully. “Just… Well…” she inhaled and then let it go with a nervous laugh. “It’s been a while since anyone’s seen me without my clothes on, Malfoy. And even with yours still on, it’s hard not to feel a bit… you know…”

Malfoy snarled, lip curling. “You’re exquisite, Granger,” he growled. “I’ve been half-hard all fucking evening. Let me show you how bloody gorgeous you are?” he asked, and with that, he spread her legs a little more and drew her underwear to one side.

He skimmed the pad of his thumb slowly, reverently over her clit and she bucked, abandoning much of her embarrassment as a jolt of pleasure seared through her. “Oh God, Malfoy…” she grunted as he kissed up the insides of her thighs, occasionally closing his teeth over her skin.

“Can I taste you?” he asked from his vigil on the floor between her knees.

“Yes… God, yes…”

And with that, he drew her underwear down while she hitched her hips up to help, and his mouth closed over her sex. The sudden, pressing heat of it made her head loll back and her spine arch, but then he brought his tongue to her and laved a long stripe up over her folds and circled her clit and she shuddered.

“You’re so wet,” he breathed, sounding astonished.

“Mmm,” she said. “Not the only one who’s been thinking about this all night,” she laughed.

“Fuck…” he hissed to himself as he returned his mouth to her.

The steady motion of his tongue dipping occasionally inside her before returning to suckle and lick at her clit had her shaking and clutching the sofa in minutes. Nothing that anyone had ever done to her had ever felt this good. Heat built inside her like a stoked furnace and she arched again while Draco held her with both his arms beneath her thighs, drawing himself into her. He was going to bring her to her peak with nothing but his mouth.

“Draco I’m going to come,” she gasped. “Draco… Oh fuck… Draco!” and with that, she shattered. A convulsing wave of heat and blinding white light ripped through her and she cried out, head thrown back, mouth open, eyes screwed shut as Draco kept his tongue pressed to her pulsing clit and eased her through it.

When he sat back on his heels, his lips were puffy and shone from her arousal, and he gazed up at her as if she were some kind of goddess. His eyes were blown dark, wide with a kind of reverent lust that she’d never imagined him capable of.

He looked her up and down and smiled.

“I didn’t even take my shoes off,” she laughed a moment later as the realisation dawned.

“I know,” he smiled. “That was partly what made me lose it so quickly. You clearly have no idea how fucking incredible you look, Granger.”

She had to smile at that. How could she not smile when he was still kneeling between her legs and the evidence of his own arousal was plain to see.

“Would you like me to help you out of them?” he asked.

“Please,” she said.

His hands held her ankle so delicately that she bucked again, though the movement was muted. He caressed the bones of her ankle and after he had slipped her feet from the shoes, he set them to one side and rose gracefully to his feet. He held out his hand and asked, “Bedroom?”

“Unless you want me to ride you here on your living room couch,” she said and his jaw slackened slightly. “Then yes.”

He led her, naked save for her bra, to a room just off from the sitting room, and while he still had his back to her to focus on casting a soft lumos spell, she unclasped her bra and let it fall to the floor. Drawn by the sound of it hitting the carpet, he turned. In two steps, he had crossed back to her and in his right hand he took a handful of her hair and tipped her head back, while in his left he cupped the weight of her right breast and moaned against her mouth.

“Are you trying to get me to spill in my trousers like a teenager, Granger?” he hissed.

She laughed. “Let’s get you caught up then,” she said, and began to undo the button and zip at his waistband. He stepped out of his trousers and left them crumpled on the floor, and she whispered, “You have the most incredible legs, Draco. I’ve always thought so.”

“You have?” he asked, hands going to begin on his tie and shirt buttons while she ran her fingers around his lower stomach beneath the waistband of his black boxer-briefs.

“Mmm. I know I didn’t like you as a person back then, but even I have to admit you looked incredible out there in your quidditch kit.”

He smirked, clearly pleased, and fumbled a button.

“Let me?”

His cock twitched noticeably, and he raised his chin a little, hands falling limply at his sides. Before she’d managed even a single button, his fingers had found her hips again and he began tracing idle circles with his thumb over her skin.

Hermione took her time undressing him, and when she finally peeled back the front of his shirt, she bit her lip at the sight of his torso. Without removing his shirt completely, she brought her fingertips to his pecs and trailed them down, circling one nipple without quite touching the dusky pink bud, and then moved down over the clear ridges of his abs. He was in incredible shape, seemingly without an ounce of fat on him anywhere. She swallowed, throat dry.

“How are you even real?” she found herself whispering. “Draco, you’re beautiful…”

He flushed from his collarbones, up his neck, all the way to his ears, but didn’t move. His eyes fluttered closed, and as she drew back the fabric of his shirt a little further, she noticed a long, silver scar slashing across his chest like the after-image of a lightning strike. It stretched from his left shoulder, across his chest, down to below his right ribs and, she realised as she followed the line of it with her fingers, he had a second right above the waistband of his boxer-briefs. A third, smaller scar curled around his left hip.

“Is that where…?”

“Potter,” he hissed through closed teeth. His smile was sad, like he’d long ago forgiven the boy for lashing out with a spell he’d never even heard of.

It was only as she pulled his shirt slowly off his perfect, marble shoulders, that she remembered his Dark Mark. Instantly her eyes went to his left arm, where all of Voldemort’s followers had borne his brand, and there in fading, dark, smudged ink, sat the leering skull with its coiling snake.

“Don’t,” he snarled softly, drawing his arm back away from her. “Don’t look at it.”

“Alright,” she said.

His eyebrows rose, as if he’d expected her to argue and lecture him somehow, but instead, she hooked her finger beneath the waistband of his one remaining piece of clothing, and pulled his underwear carefully down, freeing his cock.

Pre-come beaded instantly at the flushed head, and he inhaled softly as she smiled and pressed her palm into his hip, steering him back towards the bed.

In a daze, he let her move him, and he laid his head back on the pillows, hair as white as the cotton beneath, and stared up at her with his eyes dark and lidded. “Granger,” he whispered, and she straddled him slowly. His hands found her hips as she sank down and rocked her wet folds up the length of his hard cock. At the contact, he gasped and jerked his sharp chin up towards the ceiling, heels digging into the mattress behind her. “Oh fuck, Granger…” he said.

“Mmm?”

“Oh gods. Oh Merlin… fuck…”

“I’ve reduced him to a babbling idiot again,” she giggled, and he laughed too. The sound was open and free and truly delighted, and she leaned down and took his nipples between finger and thumb and tweaked them slowly.

A deep, guttural groan left his throat and the tendons jutted out in sharp relief against his neck as his whole body went taut. He tried to buck beneath her, but she held him firmly between her thighs and he dug his fingers into the muscle of her legs hard enough that she thought she might bear the marks of it afterwards.

Draco began to pant as she rolled herself repeatedly along his cock, luxuriating in the gliding contact.

Then she heard him hiss a contraceptive spell, and she almost laughed. Clearly it was little more than a reflex for him, and she didn’t interrupt him for it, but the surprise of it nearly brought her out of the moment altogether. Next he had brought his hand to his cock and was guiding the head to enter her. She was slick and sensitive from having come already, and he eased into her without resistance.

She was, however, as he declared in a broken moan, “…so fucking tight…”

Hermione began to rock again once he was seated inside her to the hilt, but he grabbed her hips and curled his torso in on itself, panting. “Don’t move, Granger. Fuck. Don’t fucking move.”

She smirked. “You’re that close already?”

“Shut up,” he snapped without sting, and then let his shoulders drop back down to the mattress behind him again. “Fuck…” he laughed, almost shyly.

Then he surprised her again by reaching his hands up to her shoulders and suddenly the world tilted, and she found herself beneath him and lying on her back on the mattress. She parted her legs a little further, allowing him deeper, and he growled again. He looked ethereal as he loomed over her, all pale skin and silver hair, and her core tightened.

“You’re going to make me come again, Draco,” she whispered as it built inside her anew. This time it was less raw and needful, but no less intense.

And with that, he began to move. At first, he withdrew until he was almost all the way out, leaving only the tip of his cock inside her, but soon enough he sank back down to the hilt with another glorious groan. Picking up a rhythm that soon had him heaving for breath, he raised one of her legs and hooked her knee over his shoulder, her thigh to his chest. With that new angle, he hit her so deep with every stroke that she saw stars.

“You’re going to come for me, aren’t you Granger?” he rasped. “Gods, I can feel it. I can feel you… you’re so tight. You’re perfect, you’re… Granger…” he grunted and then he was coming. His torso clenched and his head bowed low, and the rush of his release inside her and the way he clung to her shoulders tipped her over the edge and she followed him.

Malfoy raised himself on shaking arms a long moment later, one hand braced on either side of her head, and looked down at her. His white hair was dishevelled and a sheen of sweat stippled across his forehead, but it was his eyes that held her. Dark and glassy, he stared in open wonder at her, and then he smiled.

“Granger…” he whispered, and she laughed with elation as she kissed him.

___

Chapter Seven

Let me know what you think, and help a newbie (at least to contributing anyway) to the fandom out by reblogging!

writing masterlist | Ao3

#dramione #dramione fic #older dramione #draco malfoy x hermione granger #hermione granger x draco malfoy #draco x hermione #hermione x draco #let no man steal your thyme

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larenoz · 5 years ago

Text

Roswell New Mexico - Live Rewatch - Ep 3 - Tearin' Up My Heart

What matters is the science

The power to heal or harm. Hhhhmm, I wonder who else that might apply to in the future?

Hey lab rat!

Subtle, Liz. Real subtle.

No, he's not just stressed Liz

It's all a plan to get Max to get his gear off.

His heart isn't racing because he's scared of Liz. Neither of these people has a subtle bone in their body.

Die Jesse Manes Die

Hey there Kyle.

Alien hunting buddy, four war hero sons.

"Are you calling Alex faint of heart?" You go Kyle.

Die Jesse Manes Die

See now I think this is where Jesse made his biggest mistake. Threatening Kyle's life is one thing, but threatening his friends. That just kicks his protective side into high gear. Especially when it comes to ALex who he feels he owes. Probably gets his competitive side going as well

OMG Kyles face as Jesse walks away.

"I don't need an Airman, I need a Valenti"

"The light show whenever I feel anything" Yeah, we know what your talking about Max

Yeah, we know why you didn't Iz and Michael about the experiments.

So that's a yes then.

"Please don't touch me". Oh, that's gonna hurt the feels

Busted. Not sure how I feel about that shirt Iz is wearing though. I think we might be trying a bit too hard for the New Mexico aesthetic.

"We have a connection, we did, I think" Not too sure there Max

OK, now that's just mean Iz, with the Kyle/Liz hookup.

Especially when you know it's gonna hurt Max.

Now here we have on rewatch the first scene where I'm not sure if it's Iz or Noah??

Where she talks about his hand print on Liz's chest, just seems a bit Noah like??

Which would also explain the meanness?

Arguements about who knows each other best and relationships built on lies.

That's a set of criteria where everyone is on pretty shaken ground at this stage.

Max as golden retriever or X-file. Kyle being all caregivery. Fuck, I would give anything to see him in a nice white shirt. Sorry, I digress.

Provocation. Another theme we see again and again through the show.

Not a fan of this whole treasure hunt storyline tbh

Yes Kyle, we all love Max because he's tall.

OK Nancy Drew"

Fuck, you cannot just cut to THIS scene like that. Fuck me.

The song, the hand caressing that skin.

Fuuuuccck

Once again I am not emotionally prepared.

"Your awake"

"You staaayed"

God, such little dialogue that just tells us so much.

That Michael isn't used to Alex being there in the morning. That he leaves.

The way Michael looks over at Alex. So soft and happy.

Alex's barely there smile as he looks at Michael.

They just break my heart these two.

Fuck me.

The physical intimacy in this scene is just.... I don't even have words for it. It's so soft and gentle and ...

Michael's face.

It's just such an amazing scene especially for a queer couple.

The chemistry these two have as actors is insane.

God fucking damn it Isobel.

And fuck here it comes.

"it's just Isobel"

"Does she know about us?"

"would it be so bad if she did?"

"Yeah"

"Nah, don't worry about it"

Fuck me. Michael goes from being so happy to being someone's dirty little secret in seconds.

Now I'm pretty sure that's not what Alex thinks, but that's sure as shit how Michael interprets it.

All his insecurity and self-loathing just brings his armour back up.

oh shit yeah

It applies just as much to Alex as well.

The thing that hurts to the most is that Michael is so resigned to it. Like yep, this is how it always goes.

And I think that might apply to not just Alex, but other people he sleeps with. Good enough to fuck, but not good enough to be seen with. And that's just fucked up.

Especially for someone like Michael who is so tactile. That his way of connecting with people is so distained.

And Alex's face. He know's he's hurt Michael, even though that wasn't his intention.

But as they say, about paving the road to hell.

Tbh honest, I didn't notice until it was discussed in another channel that this ISN'T the morning after "I never look away" and that the Airstream has moved.

I blame opening the scene with all that golden skin. It's very distracting.

I offer that line as public domain to any fic writer that wants it!!

God how I hate that Michael is probably alot of people's dirty little secret. Fuck them.

"He's letting Liz experiment on him"

"Please say sexually"

Not gonna lie. THat is one of the best lines ever on tv.

Also Michael with no shirt.

Also if they ever get Michael in a nice white button up I'm gonna die.

Yes I have a white shirt kink.

Iz's face. :laughing:

Kids, kids kids. Have we learned nothing?

Plans involving Liz never end well.

Secrets, always about the secrets

Mix cd

Clues, Nancy Drew

Teen melodrama is our thing.

So cheeky Liz. It's a good look on you.

Liz is wearing armour lipstick.

Of course Maria is coming on the treasure hunt.

Cam buying Max a first edition. Nerd boner. Don't ever change Cam.

Max, max, max. It's not the time.

Don't dig into the past. HOld onto the good memories. Exactly the advice Kyle gave Liz last ep.

And he doesn't listen either. Lucky he's so pretty.

I really hope we get to see the hold your hair while puking, slash your exe's tires Rosa in S2. It's such a great description by Maria. Gives a great sense of the real Rosa.

"She's isn't what leftover in the dirty crevices of this town." That is such a great line - gives a great insight into Maria.

which in no way makes up for that fucking powder blue skivvy he wore!! Jesus that was ugly. So I need more white shirts to balance it out. Bonus points for linen.

But more likely on Kyle than Michael, not that I wouldn't be cool with that.

Ophiuchus

Liz's don't lie to me face.

And here we go with more heart break. THis show never stops.

I love so much that in this fandom a dark green and black flannel shirt is what constitutes the "slutty" outfit.

I love that he is alergic to buttons.

Scared of not being the number 1 person in Max's life. Tbh. he's not wrong.

Michael and his touching people to check in with them.

Annnd here comes the start of more pain.

Not to be shallow, but Alex's outfit in this scene is interesting. I know we haven't seen him in civies much yet, but even so this stands out. It's such a light palette. So different to the dark colours we've seen before and everything that we see him in after.

A reflection of the lightness he feels from reconnecting with Michael? That disappears after the drive in and never really returns for the rest of the season?

Maybe? I lean towards more unconscious choice.

A willingness to be seen?

Which then is picked up later with his "can't be seen with a criminal" comments.

Where he goes back to not standing out, even in civies

Gods, the looks on their faces. They just love each other so much but Alex is still struggling.

Alex's smile when Michael sits down.

Kyle you are so gonna get busted.

Your mum is the sheriff dude.

Seriously Max. take a fucking chill pill.

I know it's the overpower but seriously. How do people not notice?

Yes Kyle, this massive over reaction is about Liz.

OK, I know Kyle is doing it on purpose, but that is cold.

Kyle, Kyle, Kyle, alot of people want to hit you, don't encourage them.

And even if he was human Max has height and weight on him as well.

That smart arse smirk of Kyle's.

Damn, Jenna looks good with her hair like that.

Damn Kyles eyes.

And Kyle's little puff after Max leaves. He knows how close he came to getting his arse kicked in some way.

Die Jesse Manes Die.

Alex, ALex don't listen to the evil man. Please!!

And what about Michael, sitting so close to the man who mutilated him? Any person would have trouble keeping their cool.

Knowing Jesse is around is one thing, but what must it do to Micahel to see him like this?

"Can't lie to a psychic, hmm mmm"

Liz, spying on Max and Cam is a little bit creepy. Jealous much?

Not sure why Iz sees Rosa when trying to influence Liz??

Oh, Rosa's saying the lines she says to Iz later on after Noah is exposed.

Run and puke face.

Don't be a douche MIchael

Might not be a high school crush. More paralleling.

Max, don't be a dick to Cam. More than just try. And don't make it sound like a burden for fuck sakes.

"xenophobia sells more tickets"

I have Maria boot envy

And here comes the heartbreak

"I was dating a Chad"

"All the Chad's end up being Chad's"

That is some grade A dialogue right there.

Poor Diego

2 min break, I need a hot drink to stop myself coughing.

BRB

Could be. Might also be that Noah's blocks are weakening?

You go for it Cam.

Oh OK. Max you fucking dork.

OMG Liz, not cool.

Cam shutting this shit down right now.

Max making possibly the worst life choice ever seen on tv

Kyle Manuel Valenti!

And the most shit I'm busted face ever seen on a grown man.

Kyle why did you say love triangle? Don't say that.

Totally, he's hopeless but extra hopeless when your Mum is sheriff.

Sheriff Valenti has Jesse mans sussed out.

Tbh, I feel Max's pain as Liz reads out that letter. I found some stuff recently that I wrote at that age. OMFG, it was pretentious and oh so serious.

I like the hot sauce homage to OG

And then Liz just goes all in.

Don't do it Alex.

Fair warning I'm about to say some stuff about Alex that people might not like.

"I'm an airman, I can't be with a criminal".

Gods, Alex, no. You just let your Dad win.

You just told Michael he isn't important.

"All my life, the system has put me at the mercy of ciminals"

This line. FUck me.

Just another example of Michael flat out telling people the honest, painful, fucking private truth about his life and people then just blowing him off.

He just does it over and over again and then people have the fucking gall to say "we didn't know" How the fuck did you not know?

From anyone else it's bad but from Alex? Alex who knows Michael, who knows Michaels life, who has seen more of the cruelty of the world than anyone else in the show, from Alex it's a betrayal.

Yep, and using that as an excuse just compounds it. Because he's using the actions that Michael takes in order to survive against him. Compounds that betrayal.

And for me, if any action by Alex could be described as being a dick move, it's this one.

And I know why Alex does it, I really, really do, but fuck, it's still really, really bad.

And, And, all this happens in Michael's truck, his home, that Alex fucking knows he lived in during high school.

"Just trying to survive it"

Again, truth.

Not live, not escape. Survive.

Exactly.

Yes, he is Michael.

Fuck no, Alex. You don't get to say that. You don't get to blame Michael for your choices.

And Michael's sigh. Not even disappointed. Just resigned. Same ole, same ole.

Fair cop Liz. You don't really think Max killed Rosa.

But I'm also sorted glad they didn't make Liz into the sort of person who dismisses her own experience and world view just because she likes someone.

Max, it's not you place to decide what Liz can handle.

"That's what everything is about for me". Max, Max, Max. I'm impressed you could say that without coming off as a creepy stalker type.

You know what Max, now would be an excellent time to come clean about everything, just sayin'.

true

Noah, Noah

"I knew what I was marrying into" we now know what an understatement that was from Noah.

Gotta be honest, telling your husband that someone else is your person is a bit harsh.

You have two unhappy brothers Iz, pay attention.

True, but also Michael's abuser as well? I sort of read it as they both know the other isn't OK and they just don't talk about it with each other?

Noah, I'm trying really hard to block out that you are not a good guy.

Maria - "Max is so harmless" and Liz's face.

Kyle, Kyle, Kyle.

I really like how they actually have the smart person (a doctor) actaually be smart? He knows Jesse has power.

Paul Ryan comment

He cooperates just enough. Though I think part of that is he still doesn't trust Max.

Oh yeah

Max loosing his shit

Shut up Jesse, just shut the fuck up.

Yeah, not subtle but still good.

Overall not a bad episode.

As I said, not really a fan of the treasure hunt storyline.

I'm really happy with the way they handled Kyle dealing with Jesse. Again another example of a storyline that would drag out for seasons on other shows.

More backstory for Alex and Michael. My poor boys.

Love Maria giving us a more balanced view of Rosa. Who I am really looking forward to seeing in S2.

Yep, so many examples of how out of the loop people are keeping Maria. And we know it's just going to get worse. I really need for them to give her an opportunity in S2 to really rip into everyone for keeping her in the dark.

And Jesse fucking Manes. Just about everything he says makes sense. He's actually right about aliens. Even right about there being bad ones. But we also know that he's a violent, vindictive dick.

#roswell new mexico #Roswell Nm #roswellnm #rewatch-larenoz

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re-rift · 4 years ago

Text

fallen angel || the overseer || mm trial.1 || re: OH JESUS

“...”

Eyes shut, Atsushi softly and quietly inhales, focusing on his breathing rather than everyone’s reactions, as if preparing, or even possibly bracing himself. Everything he’s done, gone through, dealt with, and planned over... It all lead to this. And what with the rowdy feedback upon his reveal, well...

Opening his eyes on his final exhale, he could only see this as none other than a success!

“Oh! Bravo, there’s all the energy I was looking for! You all may not be the excitable bunch, but you sure know your cues. That’s good to know. Let’s not start this off with violence though, hm? ...Or do! But that’d mean wasting precious trial time, and you all wanna go home, right?”

Atsushi chuckles lightly into his gloved hand, expression rather amused as he obliges to let his wings disappear into a scatter of pixels. The blank white feathers clashed with his current colour palette, anyway. His smile doesn’t falter an inch as crude words well deserved are thrown his way-- his was all expected, after all. All according to plan. He smiles,

“Dunno what I expected from a bunch of jaded survivors... ah, so hostile! But, enough with that! It’s time for the good ‘ol AMA and Q&A you’re all oh-so familiar with! It comes with the trial, see? I’m here to guide you, after all. You’re all special, and an integral part to all of this, I promise.”

And with that, he clasps his hands together over the podium, turning to Tsurugi.

“Heeeeeh? Didn’t you get the memo? Like, you did find that one paper, right? Call this technology going too far, but natives of this rift has microchips in ‘em that basically simulates this entire world. Essentially, it’s augmented reality on steroids.

In addition to this, since it’s all elaborate digital simulation in the human mind, people are able to die and revive without a single problem since it’s all fake, in a sense. And guess what: people like it better that way! And since killing and dying isn’t so much of a problem anymore, it only makes sense no one in this world takes it seriously anymore. And that’s no good. 'Cos with this plus their ability to access other rifts, then everyone in every rift would eventually lose their humanity, and in extension, how much a human life is worth. NG, NG!”

He makes an X with his hands. NG, indeed!

“As for how you and Asamizu came back... Aha-- Ahahahahaha! Gosh, do I look like a programmer to you? Call me responsible for the game, but by no means did I develop the setting we stand in! Haha, this meaning, I have no clear answer for this. Wasn’t it a part of whatever grand scheme you were plotting, anyway? You know, what with the poison you and your buddy had.”

His amused smile settles back into something much more neutral as he shifts his attention to Shuuya, his finger still to his cheek.

“Correct, I have been in a game like this, just like the rest of you. This also means I know how awful of an experience it is, to be in one. And I know all you were talking shit about the end justifying the means earlier, but really: while that’d be true in a regular setting, we’re talking hundreds and thousands of rifts here.

If one more game meant putting an end to this heinous trend to all rifts for good, even if it meant reliving hell once more, it’d be worth it to see things changing for the better as a permanent change, wouldn’t it? And the plan from the beginning was that no one would die for real-- everyone would come back as soon as the game and show finishes.

This is all why the last game of this show are all survivors rather than newcomers. We can’t afford to expose this format to any more unsuspecting people, should anyone get inspired. But you-- you’ve all seen this before, and already know it’s bad. You see?”

His smile comes back up with a warm laugh as his podium neighbor addresses him, responding to her as if she wasn’t insulting him-- in fact, Atsushi talks as if this was only friendly banter.

“Hahaha! I just couldn’t help myself, you know? Glad to see you’re still upbeat as ever, Ms. Confidant. Ahhhhh, about that, though...” Although CC can’t see it, he brings his hands together apologetically. “Sorry, kinda lied to have you help me! Playing the traitor trying to overthrow their boss in secret was pretty convincing though, right? But believe it or not, I did need your help to get hands on that information.”

“Don’t you remember? I said my ‘boss’ wasn’t in complete control, after all. Just because I’m Overseer doesn’t mean I’m in complete control or responsible of everything. But that didn’t stop me: I used you in order to gain more control of it. And I did know that everyone would stay alive! At least, that’s what I was told from the beginning.”

He plays with the ribbon tied around his wrist idly, using this to segue smoothly into answering Mingzhu.

“I was told so, but was never given proof of it. It made me skeptical, obviously-- while I wanted to end all killing games with this, it’d be kind of hypocritical if people actually died for good. So I tried testing this theory out back when I tried to commit that murder. Ahhh...” he sighs, “and I couldn’t do it... Even as the Overseer, having to succumb to a game again is difficult for a survivor like me too, hm? But what’s better: having an Overseer who understands the struggle, or one who doesn’t?”

He giggles as the mention of his husband, but as Mingzhu instructed, decides not to waste his breath on irrelevant topics. He was already kind of running out of breath with out much information he was slinging out... ahh, he’ll try to be more brief from here on out. He nods at Ada,

“Mmm! I was recruited to ensure this game runs smoothly and traditionally, with my own motive in mind. Hired due to my relations with my mastermind, ehe~” THIS IS NO FUCKING TIME TO BE GAY ON MAIN “Ah, as well for my rift’s messy past with killing games and how it ended up building from the ground up from it all. Which, by the way, the first two games were hosted by Akari Okamura and Mika Tsukizuka! The initials sound familiar? Again, dunno what I expected from jaded survivors if not immediately pointing fingers at each other, but I at least expected Asamizu to get it, considering his role in his own game... But, there! Out of the circle you go. I am here to guide you, after all."

And with that, he leans over his podium, tapping the side of his head, grinning.

"You might want to look even closer.”

#MM Trial #Atsushi #submission

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sakura-soldier · 8 years ago

Photo

Barry Madison - Avengers OC Uniform

Ok, it's been 1 year since I've drawn and uploaded an Avengers uniform design for Tracey. Fast-forward to January 2016, I found myself having an urge to draw her twin brother, Barry in HIS new Avengers uniform. He was originally a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, but he and his fraternal twin sister ended up joining the Avengers sometime after the events of Captain America: The Winter Soldier (he's also part of the Winter Is Ending series, written by @winter-is-ending/Singer of Water). Back in S.H.I.E.L.D, he was simply known as "Agent Madison", but then a couple years later (read "The Fireman" by Just A Little Birdy on fanfiction.net to understand this pic: www.fanfiction.net/s/11575901/…), he discovered a flamethrower gun during a mission, which originally belonged to one of those cliched mad scientists, and had to use it to fight a monster. Because of this, the internet and the Avengers (much to Barry's suffering) originally called him Fireman, but then Tracey hacked into social media and she christened him with the superhero name Firebrand instead.

Weird thing was, I tried starting this drawing back in January 2016, but that time, I was struggling with how his uniform was supposed to look like AND I got swamped over by homework and stuff, resulting in a huge-ass case of artist's blocks for months and months, so I only finished part of the lineart until just now (late April 2017-Thursday. May. 11, 2017), when I finally got the inspiration and guts to finish the whole thing (even though sadly, it took me about a few months/1 year-ish to even finish). Also, the WEIRDER thing was that, way back before Just a Little Birdy's story was written, I came up with a DIFFERENT superhero name and power/weapons for Barry; I originally wanted to call him Endgame and I planned to give him special gloves/fingerless gloves (?) that would give him the ability to move objects around in thin air with the help of physical motion/gestures and telekinesis just after leaving a signature imprint on it (inspired by video game logic and abilities). Sadly, I had to start my concept over from scratch, as well as the colour palette a few times as soon as Barry became Firebrand (unless like, I don't know, you wanna see Barry as Endgame, maybe?).

So for this outfit, I wanted to give off some kind of connection to Barry's original job as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, but since he's an Avenger now (with a new alias, too), I wanted him to prove that he is more independent, less restrained by militaristic or spy rules, and have a sense of freedom and individuality, but still connected to the organization he previously (currently?) worked in. The difficult part though, was to not make it super flashy, let alone make it super obvious that his flamethrower-like gun/fire was his weapon (think Johnny Storm's powers/Fantastic 4 uniform, flame-patterned fabrics and clothing, warm colours like red, orange, yellow, etc..); otherwise, it would make him a bigger target for the enemy to attack or notice him. For Barry's uniform, his jacket (don't worry, he's wearing a short-sleeved top underneath) and leggings could be connected together with tiny metal hooks hooking inside the jacket and legging's waistline, as if it looks like a bodyglove/jumpsuit, but it can appear as separate clothing items as well. They are charcoal black (although slightly lighter) and slightly distressed with a bit of a metallic sheen underneath (you know how some leather clothing would have have shiny, iridescent, metallic layers underneath the original black, brown, or gray colour; it's kinda like that), but it's not too obvious. Believe it or not, the jacket was actually based on a black trench coat I owned, which has a high collar like the one Barry's sporting. The collar flaps, as you can see, can be laid flat like the ones from a leather jacket, rolled up to his neck like a turtleneck or scarf for warmth, or even pulled up to cover the lower half of his face like a mask or scarf for warmth, concealing his identity, or (if Stark Industries or other technology allows it) even acting like a gas mask of some kind. The jacket buttons are bright blue, but they could also be navy blue, silver, or black either in plain or the Avengers logo. There's even a darker black pocket on his left side for extra storage, which I got the idea from after randomly discovering a jean pocket from a denim bag I saw on tumblr. :P Since Barry and Tracey are fraternal twin brother and sister, I wanted to create a few similarities and indications that can imply that Barry's related to Tracey (the two uniforms have slightly loose yet form-fitting jacket, tight leggings, the asymmetrical zipper on Barry's right and Tracey's left, the buckles on Barry's left shoulder/his left and Tracey's right shoulder/her right that are inspired by asymmetrical leather jackets and Bucky's Howling Commando's jacket, belt shape, usage of fingerless gloves, and ankle boots), but it's also easy to tell that they're mostly different (by colour schemes, abilities/strengths/skills/themes, button and belt colours, zipper and buckle positions, silhouettes, belt structure, separate vs. attachment pieces, and shades of black in the leather).

The leggings should provide mobility and freedom to move around (and to give Darcy some secret eye-candy, mmm~), while his simple black ankle boots have flat soles, rather than ones with heels, laces, or buckles, so that they're easy to put on. There's a holster with a pouch on his right left while his belt design is actually inspired by chain belts and this ribbon-like version Dan Kuso from Bakugan: New Vestroia wore as his New Vestroia/Vestal outfit (you're gonna have to look him up though, to get the idea); the "chain" is more of a decoration than anything, but it can be attached or detached from the actual belt depending on what Barry's comfortable with. The fingerless gloves are two separate versions; the "outer" layer is technically part of the jacket is based on atheltic stretch tops, running shirts, oversized sleeves, and Quicksilver's/Pietro's (Age of Ultron version)'s blue Under Armor top, while the inner layer is a dark, inky black and they're actual fingerless gloves underneath, which can be worn together or separately for protection and to keep his palms warm.

Now, the most unique part about Barry's uniform are the flame designs that run down from his shoulders to barely touching his hands, from his outer thighs to his ankles. They don't seem too significant at first, UNTIL you actually look at them more closely. At first glance, people might perceive them as normal swirls, but really, they're stylistic designs of flames (ok, I struggled with drawing actual flames for his drawing that doesn't too obvious, is small enough for the size, AND easier to tell that it's fire, so I experimented with swirls and curves like I did with Tracey's hair and ended up creating my own flame designs, which looks really cool). As for the colours, you'd be surprised at how colourful they looked; depending on how Barry moves around, the lighting, angles, or even his emotions, either the entire designs or the individual flames can change colour, which can vary from blues, whites, traditional fire colours of red, orange, and yellow, or even unusual colours like purple, pink, gold, or green. But why those colours? Well, basically, they represent the physical states of fire, which can change into different colours depending on the chemical compositions of burning material, immediate reaction products, chemicals, and temperature. I recommend looking this up to have a better understanding of flame colours and temperatures: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flame. They also reflect the temperment and unpredictability of Barry's personality inside and outside of his missions. Also, the colours COULD also act like a mood ring, in which the flame colours can change and reflect depending on his emotions and mental state. BUT if Tony Stark, S.H.I.E.L.D, or other kinds of technology could make this possible, then the flame designs would also emit and/or reflect heat to keep himself and other people warm, could light up a dark room like reflective tape/glow-in-the-dark clothes and paint/reflective elements like in Pietro's shirt, AND/OR if Barry got manhandled/grabbed/physically in contact with the enemy (human, monster, robots, or otherwise), he can either unleash his anger as a trigger (like how Bruce turns into the Hulk) or use hidden buttons inside his uniform to make himself burst into actual flames that come out via the flame designs to burn or melt the enemy/enemies, but can be cooled off by self-control/calmness/non-angry feelings or the hidden buttons so that they won't burn his actual clothing. Either of the following options depend on @winter-is-ending/Singer of Water and her choices for future stories.

I also managed to provide colour palettes for the overall outfit and the flames (sorry if some parts are cropped up though; I think my parents cut off part of it with Photoshop without telling me -__-), and I tried to practice the jacket collar in two variations (though it's actually three) and Barry's hair with several headshots. The front view made him look like Finnick Odair (or maybe that's just me?) while everything else is either sticky-uppy or loosy and shaggy. (BARRY MADISON, YOUR HAIR IS AN ABOMINATION!!!! NAH, JK, I LOVE YOU EVEN IF YOU HAVE HARD-TO-DRAW HAIR, BRO.) The materials I used were pencil crayons, two different types of pens, a thin fineliner, and a hint of eraser. It took longer to draw Barry compared to Tracey and I had to improve and reinvent a lot of stuff compared to what I originally planned, but I liked the results so far and I hope Mel would like it. *^^*

deviantArt version: http://artist-cupid.deviantart.com/art/Barry-Madison-Avengers-OC-Uniform-Design-680500893?ga_submit_new=10%3A1494763216&ga_type=edit&ga_changes=1&ga_recent=1

Drawing and uniform concept design belongs to me, @sakura-soldier.

Barry Madison/Firebrand belongs to @winter-is-ending/@the-melapedes-main-blog (also known as Singer of Water.

Please don't use my drawing or uniform design without my permission first, thank you.

#my art #fanart #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #gift pic #someone's oc #avengers oc #barry madison #mcu oc

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