#//Broke him immensely when she didn’t cast him away; in fact held him so tight and expressed sorrow he felt he needed to hide it

[dutybcrne]

More Kae thoughts on him being a parent—deffo would have his hand forced to actually tell sb about his Khaenri’ahn heritage and especially the ties his family has to the Abyss Order, bc the last thing he needs is for the Order to interfere with his life/get ahold of his kid for one reason or another. Preferably the revelation would be for a partner bc they’re easier to trust, but if he’s single at the time, then Noelle or Lisa would be most in the know alongside Adelinde.

[weasleytentia]

I’ll meet you there

 ↳ I’ll meet you there, Fred Weasley

fred weasley x fem!gryffindor!reader

summary: after the disaster at Bill and Fleur’s wedding you and Fred share one of the last tranquil moments together before the Battle of Hogwarts.

warnings: slight mentions of sex between consensual adults, almost non-existent, mentions of blood, violence, death and lots of angst. some fluff at the beginning tho <3<3

comments are very much appreciated!!

a/n: i cried writing this so i really hope u like this. i spent more than five hours working on this even tho i’m not satisfied at all. please lemme know if u like this, i may have changed some things in the story since i got pretty carried away haha. xx

Your fingertips traced circles of various sizes on his chest and you could still feel his fastened heartbeat through that touch, the love marks you had left on his skin were still of a very intense purple. His left arm was holding you closer to him while the other was calmly and tenderly caressing your hair, your messy locks were spread across the pillow. 

“What will be of us, Freddie, in a few years?” You hummed with a raspy voice while the first rays of the sun made their way through the curtains, and you could feel their timid warmness on your bare skin. “What will be of all of us?”

A few days had passed since Bill and Fleur’s wedding and since the Ministry of Magic had fallen. You had yet to recover from that night, Ron, Harry and Hermione had disappeared leaving you with nothing but worries, and the scars that event had left in your heart would probably never go away. Things weren’t surely going too well in the Wizarding World - well, actually - you couldn’t even force yourself to remember those days in which you had no worries at all: the only thought of you, an eleven-years-old girl, entering the gates of Hogwarts for the first time almost made you want to go back and live your first year forever. 

That year you had met Fred and George Weasley, a very odd couple of twins - you had thought - but since that day in the Gryffindor Common Room you became inseparable: there was no Fred and George Weasley without Y/N Y/L/N. You weren’t actually the type to pull pranks on other students nor the one to misbehave, in fact, you were quite a bookworm and had an obsession regarding Hogwarts’ rules - nevertheless - you still were their best accomplice. One time the twins had tried one of their infamous candies on a younger student and he had to immediately go to the toilet: needless to say, professor McGonagall had questioned Fred and George and before you could even say “Quidditch” you were in detention. “I can’t believe that I got in trouble with you guys.” you had hissed while writing the one-hundreth sorry on a paper. “The truth is that you just missed us too much.”

“I think we will be just fine, darling.” Fred murmured with a relaxed tone in his voice, never stopping to play with your hair. You knew he just said that to calm you down and to not cause you more stress, but how could you ever believe him? 

Your chin raised up just a little so that you could see the expression on his face, and you contemplated the man that had accompanied you for so many years, never leaving your side. His thin lips were still reddish and almost plumper, recalling the sweet night you had passed together, and his eyes were closed as if he had nothing to worry about, as if in the whole world there was no one but the two of you. His way of being impassive to difficult situations wasn’t really odd to you since he rarely showed any kind of concern, but there were times in which you had witnessed an unknown part of Fred: during your third year at Hogwarts you got seriously injured during one of your Quidditch matches, falling from your broom and hitting your head. You were asleep for a couple of days and when you woke up in the middle of the night, you were utterly surprised at noticing a sleeping Fred right beside you, barely fitting in the chair Madame Pomfrey had given him. As soon as your hand touched his thigh he opened his eyes wide, immediately reaching for your hand, and you almost remember seeing a different glimpse in his eyes as if he had cried, That night, you shared your first timid kiss and since that cool spring night, he never left your side.

“I don’t know, Freddie,” you slightly got up sitting on the bed that was never meant for two and turned your head to look at him. “Your brother has just gone poof” and you gestured that with your hands, “What if the-they are gone? What if they found them and, and we just don’t…”

“Love,” The redhead quickly got up too and came closer to your face. “They are not a bunch of idiots and they surely know how to protect themselves.” He took one of your locks and put it behind your ear, “What about us?” you asked, your eyes searching for a source of reassurance in his. “O-Our family, our friends…”

He parted your lips but your heart was burdened of so much weight that you didn’t let him speak, quickly talking before he could. “The battle is imminent, Freddie, we cannot pretend that everything is going to be fine,” Your eyes were now watery as his never stopped staring into yours, not even a glimpse of sadness or worry. “It’s just a matter of time and I don’t want to risk it.” You breathed out, “I don’t want to lose you.”

Fred was quick to wipe your tears away with his thumbs as he took your face into his palms, lightly kissing the tip of your nose as he always did when you were about to cry, which - in some way - calmed you a bit. As the warmness of his hands left your cheeks you felt the soft material of the blanket on your shoulders, which made a light smile appear on your lips. 

“You’re so beautiful when you smile,” he hummed, “that’s what makes me go through this shit, your smile Y/N, I never want you to stop smiling, alright? ‘Cause your smile it’s my only source of happiness now.”

“What if…”

“You won’t lose me, love, I promise you that.” Fred got up and picked up his shirt from the floor. “I’ll always stay by my pretty girl’s side, alright?”

From the first time in a few days you found yourself to smile sincerely.

You opened your arms demanding one of his tight and endless hugs, and as you snuggled more into his chest you closed your eyes, cradled by the same perfume you had smelled in your Amortentia during your fifth year: fireworks, candies and the familiar scent of the Burrow.

                                                         ∘◦❀◦∘

“Expelliarmus!”

Your right leg incredibly hurt as you limped into the cold and oddly emptied hallways, a few witches and wizards still battling against each other, throwing colourful spells from their wands that made the place look like a show of fireworks. Your leg had been cut by a spell casted by a Death Eater and was now bleeding uncontrollably, the aching pain made you bite your lip.

You couldn’t recognize which of the many hallways you were crossing which was odd since you had walked those very steps during your seven years there, but everything was chaotic and... different.

In fact, Hogwarts wasn’t the same place anymore: some of the walls had fallen down and the candles that once lit up the school were now extinguished, the same place in which you saw yourself and your friends grow up, full of happiness and friendship, was now a gloomy and cold grave. Although the thought of encountering another Death Eater made shivers run through your spine your main concern was not finding Fred anywhere, since you both parted ways just right after the beginning of the battle. 

“Stay with dad, you got me?”

Fred’s eyes looked at Arthur, his father, who was standing just a few meters away from you while the two of you had found a corner apart from everyone else. You had felt the urge to embrace him, squeezing the fabric of his coat. 

“Why?” you cried into his chest, “why can’t we stick together?”

“Y/N, love” he tenderly cupped your cheeks with his steady hands looking at you with the same Love with which he had looked at you during your first Yule Ball together. “I have to stick with Georgie, he needs me.”

You closed your eyes biting your lower lip.

“Dad will protect you, alright, darling?”

You nodded in response unable to utter a single word.

Chaos started to fill the room as Voldemort’s army broke the protection spell but you never stopped looking at Fred, still searching for that reassurance.

For the first time his eyes weren’t sparkly but had a glimpse of uncertainty and fear.

 “I’ll find you.” you murmured, “At the Great Hall.”

“I’ll meet you there.” You could feel the tension build between the two of you and in a matter of seconds, your lips crashed together, as he held you close to him as if he wished to do anything but to let you go. That kiss didn’t last long since, one moment Fred was standing right in front of you and after a few seconds you had lost him along with Arthur.

You were all on your own.

“Y/N.”

You heard a feminine voice that made you immediately turn around the corner, finding one of your close friends, Luna Lovegood, standing there. You instantly couldn’t think of anything else but to hug her tightly, her being the only familiar face you had seen in a while. You couldn’t say that you seriously understood Luna and her ramblings about weird Magical Creatures, but her personality and her immense loyalty to you had made you love her a lot. After breaking the hug you noticed a cut on her cheek and you sighed in relief. 

“I’m so glad that you’re alive.”

“Thank you,” she smiled, “Have you seen Harry?”

“No, I haven’t seen him at all, have you seen Fred?”

Luna looked at the ceiling as if she was thinking very hard to remember what she had seen, given that many things were happening at the same time.

All of a sudden, your head started to spin as you heard a hissing voice coming from an unknown location: then, you realised to whom that voice belonged. 

The words were very clear, the battle was now over and all of Voldemort’s minions had retreated. You glanced toward Luna who put her wand down and your brief moment of happines was soon replaced by a strange feeling.

“Luna, please tell me if you have seen him.” “I reckon he was with his brother, George.”

She then lowered her gaze to your bleeding leg as she started asking question on how you wounded yourself, but her presence was now minor, you had to figure out where your boyfriend was. Your brain was trying to work out a few places in which he could find him and suddenly, it hit her.

“The Great Hall.”

You murmured to yourself more than to Luna and quickly nodded a thank you to her before sprinting away toward the place in which you had spent most of your days. As you ran - trying to ignore the aching pain your body was in - all of the past years spent by his side started to resurface in your mind: the long walks toward Hogsmeade holding hands like little kids and the multiple butterbeers you would drink in just one evening, the various nights where you snuck out of your dorms and explored the castle using the Marauder’s Map, the hours of detention spent together cuddling and giggling at his jokes about Snape’s nose. The kisses he gave you everytime you won at Quidditch shouting to everyone in the Common Room: “That’s my girl!”

As soon as you crossed the immense doors of the Great Hall all of your thoughts vanished like dust in the wind. The first person you saw was Ron and you smiled widely limping toward him, but there was no smile, only a simpathetic sad expression. You felt a strange sensation at the tip of your stomach as something didn’t feel quite right.

“Ron.” You mumbled with a dry mouth. “Where’s everyone?”

Ron didn’t answer, instead, he just lowered his gaze and took a few steps to his right, revealing a scene you had only thought of in the worst of your nightmares. George was standing still, looking at you with tears streaming down his face, sobbing uncontrollably. His eyes were now void as if he had been deprived of his own soul. Molly was kneeling down just like Arthur and Percy, while Ginny was crying in Harry’s arms, and as you stood there all of their eyes were on you. 

Every step you took was like being stabbed in the heart, each time by a much sharper knife. You started to feel your legs go numb and you didn’t even feel the pain of the wound anymore, because the pain irradiating into your chest was much more stronger. You fell to your knees, arms immediately reaching for the fabric of his clothes, squeezing them tight making your knuckles become white, and you contemplated his face.

“Fred,” you whispered as your tears fell on his shirt, “Freddie please, please, wake up.”

His once brown eyes were now closed, his face was covered in ashes and seemed to be paler. He looked as beautiful as the last time you had seen him, but when you sweetly brought your hand to his check, you found it cold to the touch. “What happened, Molly?” It came out as an odd murmur, your brain still not processing what you were seeing, “Did he, d-did he hit his head? We should-, we probably should bring him to a muggle hospital.”

The woman couldn’t stop herself from crying as she reached for the top of your head, caressing your hair. “Oh, Y/N, dear...”

“Fred?”

You asked once again and checked for a movement, a wink, anything. 

Maybe he was just faking it to scare everyone and then, when no one saw it coming, he would stand up on his feet at laugh at all of you for believing such a stupid thing. Fred Weasley couldn’t have died like that.

The more you looked, the more his chest didn’t move an inch, but as you desperately searched for any sign you noticed his lips curled into a small yet visible smile, and then you realized.

He was gone.

Fred Weasley was gone and had left you in just a couple of hours. 

The one person who had never judged you, the one person who had planned a forever with you, had just left you and there was nothing you could do about it. 

Fred Weasley was dead.

The screams of agony were almost muffled by all of the voices into that crowded place and by George’s embrace. As he held you tight the both of you cried the unjust and unexplained death of a brother, a partner in crime, a lover.

Even in death Fred Weasley had left you with one of the best gifts you could have ever asked for and that had made all of your days bright... his smile.

[hobbitsnapes]

the elf in the café chapter 7

A corpse husband story

(I do not own this photo, nor do I know where it originated from. All credit goes to the artist.)

Summary: Never in his life, did he think going to a cafe and meeting a Harry Potter nerd could change his life. (I’m shit at summaries

A/N: H/N means his name, being that we don’t know what his actual name is currently

As the clock struck 12, dread filled him. This was honestly one of the days he looked the least forward to, having been for years now.

It was his birthday, a day that would call for celebration, had become a day of forgetting and dread in the last few years. He can’t even remember the last time he celebrated it. He thought of it as any other day of the year, and hoped nobody in his life would remember it. He just hoped the same would go for this year.

He was just making himself a sandwich when his phone rang, his heart dropping to the pit of his stomach. He knew the ringtone like it was a call from death itself. Having changed it years ago so he wouldn’t assume it was anymore else.

He sucked in a large intake of air before pressing the ever so dawning green button.

“Hello?” “Hi H/N.” His heart dropped further at the sound of her voice, having not heard it in a year. “Hi mom.”

“Just wanted to call to wish you a happy birthday.” She says. You could hear how uncomfortable they both were, the hood 10 second pause of pure silence growing thicker by the second as his heart nearly beats out of his chest. “Thanks, appreciate it.” “How have you been?” He can’t help but roll his eyes slightly. She always asks this when she calls him, being that she’s only called him one day a year for years now. “Alright. Just working a lot.” He says, he can’t help but cringe at how uncomfortable he sounds. “That’s good, met anyone special?” He can’t help but cringe further at her question. It was so forced and uncomfortable sounding. “How about we talk about something else.” He hates having to hide her, but he knows if he says anything about her, his mother will try and pry out details about her. And either pretend to be interested in her sons love life, or ridicule him or her, and he doesn’t have the willpower to deal with that.

“Alright well, I’ll talk to you later then.” She sighs, you can hear the level of sadness in her tone. “Alright, see you later.” Hes about to hang up when he hears her again. “Love you H/N.” His heart pangs in his chest as he sucks in air at her words, nearly toppling him over in pain. “You too.” He says, voice cracking considerably. He hangs up before she can reply back, not being able to handle any more interaction with her. Tears fill his eyes and a couple escape, her words ringing in his head as stray tears fall down his cheeks.

The next few hours were a blur to him. Not because he had anything to drink, or any substance to make it that way, but just because he didn’t want to think. He tried his hardest to forget the call, but each time he tried it would get worse. So much worse in fact that he found himself on his couch most of the day, in a state of consciousness and sleep. Trying his best to get rid of not only the pain in his eyes but the pain in his heart.

He must’ve finally passed out because he woke to the sound of someone beside him, making his heart plummet and jump. “Hey hey it’s okay, it’s just me. I tried calling you but you didn’t answer, I’m sorry hun.” Her soothing words broke him out of his panic, making his heart warm for the first time that day.

She placed her palm to his cheek, making him smile as she ran her thumb over his skin. He turned his head into her hand, placing a kiss to her palm. A smile broke out on her face, making him chuckle lightly, placing his much larger one over hers.

Having her there helped his mood considerably, nearly forgetting the entire encounter with his mother. But he again forgot just how smart she was, how she could tell something was off about him. “Hey, what’s going on? You’re not acting like yourself.” His heart falls slightly at her words, turning his head to her, wishing he hadn’t. Concern wrote itself in her face, her eyes pleading with him. Her hand was placed on his thigh, running her thumb over it lightly.

He looks away from her eyes, letting out a large sigh. “Yeah, I Uh, stuff happened today.” Worry fills her at his confession, making her heart drop. “What happened?” He again sighs at her question. It wasn’t that he was afraid of saying it to her, but rather he hated talking about his mother.

“Today, I got a call from my mother. Remember how I said I don’t speak to my family? Well, I left something out. She, only ever calls once a year. On my birthday.” A small gasp leave her at his words, making his heart break slightly. “I didn’t wanna tell you today was my birthday, not because I didn’t want you to know, but because I hate celebrating it. Not only is it just another day, but because that’s the only time I hear from my family. I’m sorry.” His voice slightly cracks at the end, making his head fall.

Her hand grabs a hold on his cheek, lightly turning his face into her chest, his arms wrapping around her securely.

She runs her hands over his back and through his hair, moving her hands from his back to hold his cheek again. Turning his head up to look at her, placing a kiss to his forehead. “It’s alright hun, I understand completely. I’m not mad or even upset. Why don’t you try talking to me about it, and maybe I can try and help if you’d like?” A smile takes over his face at her words, making his heart warm again. He leans up, placing a small kiss to her jaw. “Can we just lay here? This is all the help I need to make this shitty day amazing.” She chuckles at his words, wrapping her arms around him. “Of course, and hey.” He turns his head up at her, “happy birthday.” She says, placing a small kiss to his forehead, making him smile as he buries his head into her neck, making her laugh.

Laughter broke out of both of them, making them nearly cry. They had settled on watching a funny movie tonight, wanting nothing but to laugh as they embrace one another. They settled on grown ups, neither having seen it in years. “He-he licked the dog shit.” He laughed, trying his hardest to form a coherent sentence. “I-I can’t handle this.” She says, reaching for the remote, putting the movie on pause. “Hey, what was that for?” He teases, laughter still apparent in his voice. “I need a break before I piss myself.” She laughs, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“You know, you look really fucking cute today.” He admits, making her duck her head as her cheeks flush. “Thanks, I went and got my haircut a bit this morning.” She chuckles, making him smile. “I can tell, looks almost as beautiful as your face.” He says, making her flush as she hides her face from his eyes. “Awe come on, don’t do that.” He says, reaching over and removing her hands from her face. He plants a few small kisses to her cheeks, making her laugh as he attacks her face.

He had never been like this, so affectionate with her. While he did kiss her face often, he wasn’t ever like this. Neither hadn’t even kissed yet, or made it official. They didn’t want to rush it, wanting to let it happen when they felt it.

She yells out in laughter as he attacks her neck with his lips, pecking the skin over and over, wrapping his arms around her. He can’t help but laugh along with her as he does this, loving every second of hearing her angelic laughter erupt around the room.

It was as if time stopped all together, if the air had drilled, every noise decided to hush, everything was on hold when they looked into one another’s eyes. Their breasts hitting one another softly as their hearts pounded.

His hand held her cheek lightly, feeling the heat against his palm. Neither could break their eyes apart, fearing the moment will be lost as soon as their eyes venture away.

Her breath catches in her throat when his amber eyes gaze down to her lips, his dark lashes casting a faint shadow along his cheeks before meeting his gaze once again.

His palm slowly moves down to the side of her neck, feeling her breath catch, before finally shutting his eyes.

It was as if all pressure that had built up dissipated when their lips finally touched, a deep sigh leaving him as his lips move against hers slowly.

Her hand runs to the side of his face, cupping his cheek as their lips dance. Their body ignites in nerves as their lips card over each other like folded sheets, feeling every ounce of passion and built up emotions cascade over them.

Their lips pull into tight smiles, both trying to fight them off but to no avail. Both pull apart momentarily, small chuckles leaving them before crashing their lips back together.

One hand stays to the back of her neck, while the other smothers down her side, hand flush to the small of her back, guiding both of them back.

Her heart skips at the feel of him pulling her to him, a small gasp leaving her parted lips when she feels him pull her body onto his lap, his hand grabbing a hold of her thigh. His hand clenching the skin, not enough to hurt her, but to feel her skin in his hands as waves of nerves and passion flow through his mind and body, making him nearly shake as his lips envelope hers.

His hand moves from her thigh to her bottom, kneading it as she gasped lightly in his mouth.

And with a hand on her back, he lifted her from the couch, small laughs shared between them as he walked them to his room.

Warmth, that’s all she felt as she woke. Arms wrapped around her, back flush to his chest as she felt his smooth breaths fall against her neck. A soft smile grows on her face, hearing the soft snores he lets out.

Flashes of the night and early hours of the morning play in her mind, making the smile on her face grow along with a warmth in her heart to grow. The feel of his skin gliding along hers, the soft but needy touches of new found skin ignited them both as they explored one another for the first time together. Immense bubbling love and pure bliss and euphoria coursed through them, making their heads spin the entire night. Soft nervous touches turned desperate as the night grew on, confidence and desire growing as each touch was shared between them. Neither wanting to stop.

She turned in his arms, trying her best not to wake the sleeping man. But to no avail, a soft hum broke past his lips, eyes still shut. A soft smile grows on her face, hand reaching up, cupping his cheek. Her thumb runs along his cheek, making his eyes flutter and the corner of his lips turn up. A sigh broke past his lips, eyes finally opening, revealing the dark amber of his eyes as his gaze fell on her. His smile grew on his face, eyes still tired as his gaze captured her.

His hand moved to the back of her neck, slowly closing the small gap between them as his lips fell on hers, moving them softly against hers. Moving his other hand to her outer thigh, pulling it over his hip as he runs his hand up the length of it, lightly grabbing at it as their lips moved in slow harmony.

Their lips broke as they smiled, small puffs of laughter fall against their lips as they hold one another. “Hi” he whispers, lips catching hers again. “Hi” she chuckles, making him smile, pulling her lips back to his.

After what seemed like hours, they pulled apart as she sat up, the chill in the air evident when she pulled away from his warmth.

A yelp broke past her lips as she got up, his hand slapping her bum. A laugh broke out of him as she grabbed it, looking back to him as he clutched his stomach. “That hurt asshole.” She laughed, trying to sound serious but to no avail. “Awe come on honey, I was slapping it way harder last night.” A blush grew on her face at his words, making him laugh harder. “Yes and it’s very sore because of it. Not my fault I’ve got a hank hill ass. Not all of us have a plump ass like you do.” She laughs, making him throw his head back in laughter.

His gaze followed her as she walked over to where they hastily threw their clothes, his eyes taking in her still naked form. Faint bruises lay on her hips, seeing the print of his fingers. Her chest and neck painted with varying depths of love marks, some darker than others. His eyes traveled past her breasts, down to her stomach. The skin was slightly soft, poking out slightly, what caught his attention was the soft lines on stretch marks that were softly drawn along the slightly loose skin. He hadn’t noticed the night prior, not that he cared. Maybe it was just a bit of weight that had been lost overtime, he wasn’t too sure.

A soft smile played on his lips when he watched her throw his shit over herself, the material falling past her thighs, looking more like a short dress on her. His eyes traveled back to hers, a soft smile on her face.

Her eyes fell back to him, feeling his gaze watching her the entire time. She smiled as she looked him over. Hair a curly mess against his pillows, tangled a better word for the strands. Her eyes traveled down to his pale chest, blanket drawn only to his hips. Soft love marks cover his naked form, standing out mostly against his neck. Her eyes moved back to his, her heart fluttering as she looked into them.

She let out a gasp as his arms wrapped around her, his front flushed to her back as she mixed both eggs and peppers together in the pan. His chest shook lightly against her as he chuckled, resting his chin on her shoulder. Moving his head over, kissing the side of her cheek. Her face flushing at the action.

His arms squeezed her tighter, bringing her even closer to him. His lips falling to her neck, kissing the skin lightly. A soft laugh leaves her at this, trying to stir their breakfast to the best of her abilities. “What are you doing?” She chuckles. “What does it look like?” He whispers, biting the skin lightly, making her gasp. “Can I fucking cook our breakfast first you horny bastard!” She laughs, making him pull his head from her neck, laughing profusely.

She cuts the stove off as the eggs are done, not a second after she does, she yells out as he lifts her. He laughs out as he puts her on the counter, a yelp leaving her at the cold marble freezes her naked bum. They both laugh out as they kiss, hands going to his hair in the process. His hands pulling her closer to the edge of the counter, grabbing her thighs as he moved himself between her parted legs, lips moving along hers.

Their heart hammered against one another as they lay in on each other, their skin hot as they pant. Smiles cover their faces as they hold on another, his legs about ready to fall as he still stands at the counter, arms wrapped around her. Their lips meet again, slowly moving as they smile.

Their food was cold by the time they grew the energy to eat, laying against one another on the couch as they silently eat. Soft kisses shared as the minutes go by, their hearts fluttering each time.

Their hearts pained as they hug one another, neither wanting to let go as they stand at the door. She sadly had to head back home, he couldn’t remember the reason she gave, only remembering the pain in his heart as he looked into her eyes.

Their lips meet again, pulling one another closer as they pour every ounce of emotions they’ve felt in the last 24 hours. “Call me when you get back, please?” He mumbles. “Always, I’ll call you before I head to bed too okay?” She says, a smile growing on his lips. “Okay.” He says, kissing her lips again.

He watched as she pulls out the driveway, a smile growing on his face at her small wave. His heart warming in his chest.

[brandywine-tomatoes]

One of the Bad Ones

From a little thought of mine <3

Masterlist

Pairing: (platonic) female!oc & crosshair

TW: sad/depressing thoughts, a little bit of human experimentation, self-depreciation, PTSD

Word count: 1895

QUICK NOTE: this is a concept with my oc Dain and her (platonic) relationship with Crosshair. Dain is a chiss jedi who hates the republic. She was the TechnoUnion's test subject years before Echo got there. She was rescued by the Batch and Co. when they went to rescue Echo. If you want more details, let me know!

-

There were good days and bad days for Dain. This day would be one of the bad ones.

Hunter and Wrecker were getting some much-needed rest, recovering from the day before. Tech was messing with a small part of the hyperdrive in his bunk with Echo helping, not getting the rest they needed. That left Dain piloting through the ridiculous amount of traffic on Pasaana, their new mission destination, with Crosshair as her co-pilot. A content silence consumed the ship, only Tech’s fiddling with a blow torch, Hunter and Wrecker’s soft snores, and the clicking of controls filling the cramped space.

Dain was consumed whole by her usual track of mind. The horrors of Skako were always her first destination. It was hard not to think about it, she was there for years. She constantly had to rhyme off the different things she could see, focus on the light reflecting and refracting around the ship, squeeze her eyes shut and dive into the life forces of her crewmates to bring her back from the fluorescent-lit laboratories and chilling surgical tables. Her limbs disobeying her commands as her captures messed mercilessly with her eyes. She could feel the tiniest of needles embedded in her iris, the sorry excuse for a numbing agent being injected.

She could still feel the helplessness that she constantly felt every second she was conscious on Skako. The bacta tube she was confined in when the surgeons needed a break still haunted her. Her long hair frail and coarse flowing like a separate entity, her oxygen mask so tight around her face practically another body part. She felt like she was being slowly and carefully pulled back to it, she could feel the warmth of the liquid seeping up her calves and past her knees, almost above her waist.

“You okay?”

Those few words violently pulled her out of the tank she was sinking into.

She didn’t feel the little drops staining her cheeks. Of course she wouldn’t, she was too messed up to feel the things that made her organic. She saw a sparkling on her cheeks refracting the light of the speeders and pods held up in front of her.

Dain quickly wiped them away. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

“Simple question,” he said, his usual snark present.

“I am perfectly adequate; I don’t know where you’re getting your ideas from.”

“Your bullshit doesn’t fool me,” Crosshair sighed.

Dain whipped her head around to his dead serious face gazing out at the fully stopped highway. “I beg your pardon? I am not, as you say, bullshitting.”

“You’re suffering. You really think this act is convincing?”

She was perplexed.

“Don’t look so surprised.” He went back to prepping the ship from its parked mode to move a couple inches further.

Dain did her part in guiding the ship the few little inches. They stayed in silence for quite a while, Dain trying to stay afloat by following the train of speeders and pods zig and zagging across miles and miles towards the capital city. Crosshair had propped a tiny black book on his raised knee, sketching away like he always did when he had extra time.

“How could you tell?”

Cross continued with his pen. “Hm?”

“How could you tell?” Dain asked a little louder.

“Well crying doesn’t cover anything up,” he gestured with his pen to her newly wet cheeks.

She quickly went to work wiping them dry, the force drawing a deeper blue to her skin. She dropped her hands in her lap in defeat, her shoulders sagging. “I can’t control it.”

“Nothing special.”

“I misspoke. I can’t feel it.”

Crosshair seeded his sketching of the pods and speeders.

“I remember what lacrimal feels like, seeping from the tear ducts,” she continued. “But I just... I don’t function like that anymore.”

He didn’t know what to say. What do you say to such a horrific fact? What did they do to you?

“I, um, overshared. Apologies.”

“No,” he objected. “It’s, uh, fine.”

Dain sunk into her seat, pulling her knees up to her eyes instinctually. Making herself as small as possible eased a little itch in the back of her mind.

She was a leader before all of this, she didn’t want to shy away into a corner and fade away in her own shadow. She stood with purpose and commanded respect. She was a decorated soldier, higher in rank than most Jedi. She had a family who she loved and who loved her. She depended on the Wolffe Pack as much as they depended on her. She was one of them.

She held a burning passion against the Republic. She fought to someday end the war so she could help burn it down and build something better in its ashes. Something that didn’t negotiate living being's lives like they were poker chips to be tossed in a pot.

It was all gone. It disappeared. She only wanted to melt into the soil, maybe help the earth flourish with trees and wildlife beside a rushing river. She didn’t hold a passion for anything she used to. She wasn’t the leader she needed to be, she didn’t have a family, she didn’t have anything to fuel her anymore. She was empty and purposeless. Maybe I’m better off melting into the earth.

“Here.”

Crosshair tossed the little black book and the pen to Dain, landing in the space between the armrest and herself. Dain stared at it for a moment, unsure of what he was playing at.

She slowly unfurled herself, her feet setting on the floor without a sound and her nimble hands bringing the book and pen to her lap.

“You can’t stay in there forever, you know. It’ll drive you insane,” he started.

Dain’s shoulders deflated. “I know.”

“It’s impossible.”

She eyed him wearily. And I thought this was going to be a pep talk.

“You just have to escape long enough.”

She stayed silent and a small bit of intrigue nipped at her fingers.

“Try it,” he gestured to the open landscape in front of them.

Dain shimmied to the edge of her seat to prop the book to a blank page against the dash in a free spot of any controls.

“Any requests?” She asked without an ounce of cheek in her words, only what seemed to be defeat.

“Nothing you can remember.”

She looked around the desert in front of her. Only a city that looked like a birdbath all those miles and miles away and the pods and speeders backed up were to see. Nothing she could see really sparked interest in her, nothing ever did anymore.

Just as she was about to toss the book back, she found her subject. A little patch of orangey clouds against the scorching sun. The entire sky was filled with them, the light bouncing off every fluffy edge and casting long shadows, but this patch’s edges were sharply defined and outlined against the glowing of the sun. There was no double meaning, no metaphor she could attach to it. Nothing sad to see in the clouds, it just looked graceful and meaningless.

She scribbled away on a page, not having enough energy to criticize her chicken scratch. She remembered a piece of advice from someone she hadn’t thought about for what felt like decades. You always get caught up in what you think you’re seeing, not what’s actually in front of you. Exasperated laughter echoed in the aftermath.

She proceeded with that in mind, trying to stay out of her head and only taking what was in front of her to transfer messily onto the textured parchment.

Crosshair was the smallest bit surprised the broken woman in front of him kept sketching away for more than five minutes. He half expected her to toss it back and retreat into whatever hell her mind had become.

He didn’t believe it when Anakin told the rescue team on Skako that it was Force Marshel Dain Lec in the bacta tank, floating eerily like a dead specimen with a tight black shirt and shorts that gave away how much she looked like a dead, decaying skeleton.

She was basically a myth in the GAR. Force Marshel Lec was one of the most decorated soldiers in history; her battle plans and strategies were studied by captains, commanders, and generals. The Bad Batch admired her work, it was exactly their style of getting things done. But she only worked with Commander Wolffe and his battalion, she didn’t ever grace the rest of the GAR with her presence. The fact that she was one of the only Chiss serving the Republic only added to the mystery of Dain Lec.

But it wasn’t just her bat shit crazy plans and strategies that she was known for, her humanity and empathy were only dreamed of. The regs all had their fair share of generals who hated them for existing, some even had the unfortunate fate of serving under Krell, but the Wolffe pack only spread the word of her immense empathy and compassion. Ruthlessness and compassion never went hand in hand, but somehow the universe broke logic and made Force Marshel Lec.

Crosshair couldn’t put the myth to the face. Sitting beside him, still sketching away on the consul, was a shrivelled and washed-out woman who couldn’t feel her own tears. Granted, it had only been a few months of her being dumped on them along with Echo, and she hadn’t been in the thick of the action yet, only drawing up plans and flying the ship, but he couldn’t imagine what else an escaped science experiment could do.

“You underestimate my abilities a staggering amount, Crosshair,” Dain’s permanently shaky voice broke his thoughts and sent him into a panic.

His thoughts staggered. “You- you-”

“Force users can’t read other beings' thoughts, but I can most certainly piece together the ones that float by.”

Crosshair thought someone raised the temperature in the ship by 20 degrees.

“I... I...”

“I’ve made the best snipper in the GAR speechless,” a small smile spread across her lips. “It’s perfectly fine, no ill will befalls this situation. I’ve endured far worse than the judgement of others.”

He didn’t know what to say. Again. He felt embarrassed over anything, over the fact he’d stoop to such lows. Why was he like this? Why did he have to point out the worst in people who were already suffering enough? Was it some kind of ego thing? Was he that insecure?

Dain tossed the book and pen back to Cross, making him jump. She looked at him intently, trying to catch his gaze that was anywhere but on Dain.

“Cross.”

He sighed and met her foggy crimson eyes. It didn’t seem like a confrontation. She brought her knees up to her chest again and fidgeted with something in her lap. How could she be considered a leader? Stop it.

Her gaze turned to one of sympathy. Pity.

“You should consider your own advice, you really think this act is convincing?”

He scoffed and leaned back against the co-pilot's seat, turning his attention to the backed-up traffic.

She sighed deeply, like the weight of the world was getting heavier with each conversation they had. “I’m still here, even if everyone here doesn't want me to be.”

--

A/N: HELLOO PEOPLE!! It's been a while!! I haven't been writing a lot lately, that's not true, I've just been writing a long marvel fic and making new OCs that no one's interested in I'm sorry for that. If you want more of my bb Dain, please let me know! I'd love to share her with y'all!! Go drink some water, get a snack, take a break, you deserve it so much!! I'M SO SORRY IF THIS WAS OOC, I TRIED MY BEST OKAY

[writing-for-a-chance]

Don’t Lie to me {B. Barnes X Reader} (2/3)

Summary: Y/N has been trying to tell Bucky she’s pregnant for over a month now, yet no matter what something gets in the way. It doesn’t matter if it’s a work function or just poor timing, she hasn’t been able to get the words out, so now finally the time has come to tell him.

Series Masterlist

Requested?: No

Warnings: Angst, Self Depreciation, Launguage, 

Other Pairings: Platonic!Steve X Reader

Words: 1,895

Feel Free to reach out to be tagged.

Everything ached as she stood there, her head hurt from crying, her heart yearning for the man she loved, no matter if he continued to walk away, claiming that Y/N had lied about the unborn child currently held in her womb. Tears streamed down her face, breath coming in sharp intakes and a lost feeling stuck through her mind. She wanted to go home, but the reality that Bucky could potentially be there was enough to change her mind. Yet before the child had made an appearance in her life, if she fought with Bucky she would just head out to the farthest bar and grab a few drinks to calm down. Then after truly thinking about what had happened, a solution would always be found and then the two would have spent the rest of the night wrapped in each other's arms, speaking quietly about anything that brought the pair peace. Yet this time, between the fact that the alcohol could harm the child and something about this fight felt different, the thought that potentially Bucky wanted to let go scared the hell out of Y/N.

The air that blew past felt cold, and no matter how tight she pulled the thin sweater into herself, it still felt uncomfortable. An icy feeling was left on her cheeks that the wind produced from the wetness of the salty tears that rolled out of her eyes. The feeling of coldness that seeped into her bones was the worst feeling physically, though what she was feeling mentally could never compare. It was a sense of abandonment that always crossed the mind at the start of any relationship. The fear of it only fading when you think you feel loved, so what went wrong for her and Bucky.

Had Bucky really not had enough trust in her to believe her words or was it something else that might have happened to lead down the road to this. More tears cascaded down her face as more negative thoughts about her own act crossed her mind as she tried to fit the pieces together of what could have possibly gone wrong. Another cold breeze flies by, alerting her that she might want to find somewhere warmer to spend her time thinking. She really had only one place to go, even though she still had the chance of running into Bucky there. Though it was still better than being alone somewhere random. Finally moving from the spot Bucky had left her in she made her way along the familiar path that was to her friends' house in hopes that he might be able to calm down her raging emotions.

The path seemed dull compared to what she was used to like the world had a blanket tossed over it that cast a darker look to the area them it truly was. Nobody around her was laughing with their significant other, holding hand or displaying any sign of PDA to which she was thankful for. She did get a few side glances though, someone she passed by noticing her red eyes and quivering lip, though no one dared to reach out. The number of people lessened through as she got closer to her destination. Her eyes scanned the area in hopes that there would be no sign of Bucky around, and she couldn't help but let out a sigh when he was nowhere in sight. Approaching the door she knocked twice, focusing on the sound it made rather them the thoughts in he head, trying to find anything other than the thoughts to focus on.

The wooden door swung open, revealing her friend she had to know almost two years before meeting her current lover. She looked at him, having to look up rather than ahead to see his face. “Hey Stevie,” She whispered, voice raspy from crying so much, “mind if I come in?”

He didn’t respond with words, deciding to wrap his arms around her and pulling her in, shutting the door as he leads her towards the couch, his heart ached to see Y/N like that. In all the time he knew her she had been this strong, uplifting person that never had anything but a smile on her face and seeing her fragile state was enough for him to decide he needed to fix whatever had caused her the tears. Steve could feel her small figure shaking in his arms, her sobs slowly making quiet sounds escape past her lips no matter how hard she tried to conceal them. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, slowly rocking her back and forth. “Darling,” He mumbled against her hair, “Can you tell me what is bothering you?”

He could feel her taking in a shaking breath, noticing the way her shoulders had raised and fallen, “He didn’t believe me, Stevie, he thought I was lying.” She whimpered, trying to close any distance between her and him that had rested between the pair, “I told him yet he thought I was lying, that I was faking. He told that if I didn’t admit I was lying that he would leave me, and when I said I couldn’t he walked away.”

Something seemed odd about the situation considering Bucky had come to Steve only a mere three days ago saying he was ready to make a family with this girl. Yet Steve had known Y/N for quite a while, he had known Bucky even longer considering they had been childhood friends. The actions of Bucky were unexpected and even though they were uncalled for, Steve knew that there must be a justified reason as to why Bucky had said and acted the way he did. He knew he would have to wait to find out Bucky’s reason so, for now, he did the only thing he knew that could be done for know, he held the girl in his arms for as long as she needed.

He didn’t notice the time that passed until Steve felt Y/N breathe even out and her tense muscles relax. ‘She must have been tired,’ he thought, picking her up and placing her in his arms to carry to his bedroom. He laid her down in the comfort of his own bed, choosing to make the sacrifice and sleep on the couch so his she would get a good sleep before waking up and facing the reality of life once again. He felt bad for both his friends knowing that both were going through an immense amount of heartache. He pulled the covers over Y/N’s body and gave her a quiet kiss on the top of her head before leaving, making sure to shut the door quietly behind him.

Steve made sure to wait before sitting on his couch and pressing Bucky’s contact on his phone. It barely even rang once before the male on the other end of the line picked up, “Please tell me she’s with you?”

Bucky’s panicked voice could be heard, the way he carried his sentences with a little extra breath gave it away. It made Steve realize that there was no way Bucky was ready to let go of his girl just yet and that maybe he knew what the truth truly was. “I got her, she’s with me.” He responded, running the hand he wasn’t holding the phone with to run through his hair. “You got to make this right Buck.”

Bucky knew the truth, he knew when he came home to an empty house after wandering aimlessly to clear his head. Maybe it was the shock that caused him to react the way he did, or just the fact that he had been so deep in self-doubt that he wanted it to be fake. Because no matter what he v=never saw himself the way Y/N saw him. “I know Steve,” he sighed into the phone, slowly beginning to pace back and forth in his own living room, “I just want to make things right between us, and now I’m not so sure I can.”

“I know and you will. Come over tomorrow at noon and all three of us will talk.”

Bucky knew that it was best to give Y/N time, yet the worries of her regretting the relationship all together could potentially happen with too much time to think were resting in his mind, “What if she doesn’t want to?”

Steve could barely hear the question that was asked due to his friends' whispers, “Well then we keep trying until she does.”

“Then I’ll try, but only if she wants me too.”

“I’ll let her know in the morning.”

“Thank you, Steve.”

The call ended just like that, letting Steve gather some blankets and he let himself fall asleep.

-

When Y/N woke up the next morning her natural habitat kicked in as she rolled over to the cold and empty side of the bed, he minds not yet caught up in her tired state. It was the first thing she noticed that Bucky wasn’t with her, then was the fact that she wasn’t home. That's when every small detail about the events of last night had kicked in, causing her to choke on a sob as she felt the tears pile up. For a while Y/N just sat there letting any tear that appeared slip down her cheek, creating a wet trail just like the rest. Time was unknown to her as she started off towards the white walls, the only thing that actually signalled the time was the bright sun that's rays entered the room, creating a natural lighting. She only let her body move at the sound of a knock on the door and it slowly opened. Steve just looked at her with an emotion she couldn’t quite tell when he saw her weeping state. It was enough for him to wrap his arms around her body and pull her close, “I miss him, Steve,” She whispered against his shoulder, “I miss him so fucking much.”

Her voice cracked as another sob surfaced and she buried her face deeper into him. As her sobs got louder he tried to keep her calm through his efforts works at the bare minimum, “Darling it’s going to be all okay.” He spoke out, hoping for her to believe what he was saying for just a second, “He wants to make everything better. He wants to fix this.”

“How do you know?” She asked, pulling away slightly to look at his face, “what if he hates me?”

His heart broke at the thought of Y/N thinking that Bucky didn’t love her anymore. Her own self-doubt beginning to pick and gnaw at her emotions, “I know because I talked to him. He wants to come over and make things right, he should be here soon but he will only stay if you want him to.”

She nodded, “So he will leave if I tell him to?”

“Yes, you won’t have to talk to him,” He frowned, worried about hers and Bucky’s relationship if you didn’t want to talk, “I can tell him now if you don’t want to?”

She shook her head and leaned into him again, “No, I want to.”

And almost as if it was timed, a knock on the door was heard.

~

A/N: I forgot to mention but this is slightly modern!AU so i’m sorry

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@icameforthefanfiction

Don’t Lie to me Taglist:

@yafriendlyfangirl @karla-silva @mu-mu-rs

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[princeadams]

When We Touched

The five times the Beast had human contact for the first time in years, and the one time where for the first time in years he had contact with another human as a human himself. Based mostly off the 2017 movie.  Available on fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12418541/1/When-We-Touched (if you have an account, it would mean so much to me if you’d leave a review! This is my first fic on there and tbh I’m pretty nervous about it) 

The Beast lay in his torn yet still grand four-poster bed, clenching his teeth through the ache in his shoulder. While he couldn't see the gashes from the wolves, he assumed they must be fairly deep, considering he felt the open breeze against them as it moved through the West Wing. He felt a wet rag against his skin, and immediately roared at the intense stinging he felt surging through his flesh. "That hurt!" he shouted, turning his head to see a rather exhausted Belle at his side. "If you would just hold still, it wouldn't hurt as much," Belle gently affirmed, her voice both patient and stern all at once. He didn't notice the dark circles under her eyes or the way her eyebrows furrowed with worry. The Beast seemed to seize the opportunity for an argument, immediately snapping. "If you hadn't run away, this wouldn't have happened!" "Well if you hadn't frightened me, I wouldn't have run away!" Belle raised her voice, her eyebrows casting downwards on her face, her jaw clenched. "Well, you shouldn't have been in the West Wing!" The Beast argued, hell-bent on being right. "Well, you should learn to control your temper!" Belle scolded loudly. The room fell silent, the servants watching from the floor, anticipating the Beast to scream at Belle and order her to get out, or for him to rise from the bed and break something. The Beast opened his mouth a few times, seeming like he was between retorts, but never settled on one, eventually turning his back to Belle once more and huffing. She smirked at this, but her face fell when her eyes were once again on his injuries. She decided maybe it wasn't worth it to argue with him today - not to say that she shouldn't tomorrow, but today, he was in pain because he saved her. Her hand, still tightly gripping the rag, though most of the moisture had been wrung out from her tight grasp during the argument, hovered over the gash once more. She lightly touched it, barely grazing the wound. She'd already gotten it clean for the most part, she wasn't sure what purpose it served to put the rag against him once more - deep down, she knew she was trying to touch the soon-to-be-scar and say "thank you for saving my life." Though all it required was a simple "thank you," she didn't actually find the words to express her gratitude until a few weeks later.

——————–

The Beast looked upon Belle's beautiful white horse - Philippe, she had called him - with sadness. This was the horse she had arrived on from an outside world, a world he hadn't seen in so long. This horse could take her places, even if they were dull villages full of dull people. He knew he could never have that again. He reached out to touch the horse, as if trying to grasp the freedom he so longed to have, to just touch it for a second, and Philippe startled, moving away. Belle calmed Philippe, whispering and running her hands through his mane. Then, she grabbed the Beast's paw. He looked at her with awe, not sure how to react to the feeling of this small, delicate hand in his dangerous, clawed one. His chest felt slightly strange, in a way he couldn't recall feeling when he held the hands of countless other girls while dancing or flirting or whatever else he had done as a prince. As she guided his paw on top of Philippe, he felt like words were caught in his throat that he couldn't quite find, and they were lost when she removed her hand and walked away. For now, he'd have to settle with stroking the horse's hair.

——————–

Truthfully, the Beast had contemplated letting Belle go ever since he saved her from the wolves - no, ever since she saved him from dying in the cold. However, his very little - yet still existent - hope that the curse could be broken seemed to justify never literally telling her she was free, and he told himself that she really was free, anyway. She escaped once without him really forcing her to come back. In fact, the only reason he chased after her was because he saw the wolves in the enchanted mirror. He wanted to assume she was smart enough to know she could easily escape again. He wanted to assume that she was here because she didn't want to escape, because she didn't feel like a prisoner. Because she felt like a guest. He knew Belle dreamed of adventure - what kind of adventure was always somewhat unclear, she mainly talked about travelling, however sometimes sword fights were mentioned as well - so, as a way of showing her she was free to go wherever she liked, that she had a place in the outside world, he took her to the enchanted book. As he looked at it, blowing the dust off the pages, he felt his heart drop a bit, both in the lingering guilt for not formally releasing Belle and in pity for himself, seeing the way the book had aged. It was painfully obvious that it had never once been opened because while she could escape, he couldn't. He was just as trapped as she was. He guided her hand towards the magical page, reminiscing on earlier that week when she'd led his paw to Philippe, and as she shut her eyes, he wondered where they would go. Immediately he panicked, wondering if he'd be brought to her cottage and be forced to look into the eyes of the man he had coldly imprisoned several months ago. He relished the feeling of his paw on her hand and pushed down the feelings of guilt, knowing they did nothing to change what he had done.

He snapped out of his thoughts when his hand was pulled from hers and they were thrust into a dusty attic. He moved towards the window, wondering where on Earth she had taken him. He breathed a sigh of relief, both for the fact that he wasn't in the public's eye and also that he wasn't taken to her home. Or so he thought, anyway. A few minutes later, he discovered this was her home, her old home. And not long after that, he watched her as she crumbled onto the ground crying. He desperately wanted to envelope her in his embrace, to whisper to her that it was okay, that he understood. Instead, he attempted to apologize to her for what he had done. "I'm sorry I ever called your father a thief," he whispered, his voice gentle and rich with sincerity. She only sniffled a bit more, and his heart broke with each second that she sat there. She eventually looked up at him, her deep brown eyes lacking the warmth that they were usually filled with, her cheeks stained with tears. "Let's go home," she said softly. When he realized she meant the castle, he withheld the urge to smile, knowing this was hardly the time. Instead, he held out his paw to help her get up. She was still holding it when they'd returned to the castle.

 ——————–

The Beast - or Adam, as he had been called at the time, had danced with hundreds of girls in his life, probably, although he couldn't really place the name or face of a single one of them. That wasn't due to the amount of time that had passed since he'd danced with one, but to the fact that he simply had never cared to learn who they were. As Belle weaved her arm through his, seeming so small in comparison to him, he recounted on all the things he knew about her, attempting to distract himself from the erratic thumping of his heart in his chest, the way it seemed to almost rise up to his throat uncomfortably. "You'll feel slightly nauseous," he remembered Cogsworth had said. He subtly shook his head, shaking away the thought. His mind returned to his memory of Belle as they walked to the center of the ballroom. Her father was named Maurice, her horse was named Philippe. She loved roses, likely due to her memory of the rose rattle she had as a baby. Her favorite tea was either rose or lavender chamomile with just a touch of honey. She always smelled like one of the two, somehow. She loved to read. Obviously, she loved to read, and debatably more than he did. Certainly in a different way, he read for amusement, entertainment. Belle read to escape, to run away into a different world, a different body, a different mind, to feel things she'd never felt before. He wished he was able to let himself escape like that, As she placed her hands in his paws, he knew he'd never once felt like this despite dancing so many times before. He knew what was different this time, and although he still couldn't admit it, there was one thing he was able to admit to himself - no book could ever do this justice.

——————–

The immense pain in his back and side from the gunshots paled in comparison to the swelling of his heart, the complete happiness he felt as Belle hovered over him. He thought of how ridiculous it was that he of all people was happy in the face of death, and bitterly laughed to himself, although it was barely audible to Belle. "How much I've changed," he thought to himself. "What a powerful girl she is, to make a Beast feel like a man, to make him smile as he fades away just because he feels lucky to have her beautiful visage be the last thing his eyes see." She cried, one hand in his paw, the other rubbing all around his chest, seeming to fidget with the collar of his shirt. "You came back," he said, eyes filled with both shock and wonder. "Of course I came back," she sobbed, her face filled with disbelief, wondering how worthless he thought himself to be. "I'll never leave you again," she promised.

A previous, more pessimistic and melancholy version of himself would've brooded over the bitter irony that the one time she says something remotely loving to him, the one time there's really any hope of breaking the curse, there's one petal left on the rose, and he's dying regardless. But he didn't think of that. He thought of her, of her beauty - her inner beauty, though there was no denying she was outwardly beautiful as well, even now with her face damp with tears, her clothes torn and her hair a mess. No, her inner beauty was so much more striking, and he wanted to reach up and place his hand on her soft cheek, wanting to touch the woman he had grown to love, to comfort her as she cried, but he couldn't find the strength. Instead, he smiled at her. "I'm afraid it's my turn to leave," he said softly, rubbing her hand as much as he could, though it was hard to move. She shook her head frantically in protest, clutching his chest tighter. "We're together now," she said. "It's going to be fine, you'll see," she continued, her words reminiscent of Mrs. Potts' hopeful advice. If he could cry, he would, but somehow as a Beast it had always seemed impossible. He shut his eyes for a second, willing tears to come out, wanting to let go of all the sadness, pain, anger, agony, and heartbreak he'd felt over the years, wanting to only feel the love he had for Belle. No tears came, so he focused his eyes on her once again, thinking of how fortunate he was to die in her embrace. "At least I got to see you one last time," he said before he faded away. He didn't hear her profess her love or feel her kiss his forehead. He didn't need to. Her arms around him were enough to help him feel at peace before he slipped into darkness.

——————–

Adam stood on two feet, wondering if somehow he'd managed to not end up in hell. Was this the afterlife? Does dying as a Beast not warrant being in that body forever? After examining his hands, he looked at his surroundings, realizing he was still in the West Wing. Immediately, his mind was flooded with a thousand realizations - the most prominent of which being that the spell had been broken, and with that, he realized. Belle loved him. His heart raced in his chest, stopping altogether when he turned around to see her standing there. She seemed confused, like she didn't recognize the man standing before her. She must have seen him transform, how could she not know who he was? He wanted to say "Belle, it's me," to immediately rush towards her and place his now soft hands on her cheeks, but once again, the words were caught in his throat. Instead, he slowly moved towards her, stopping once they were about a hand's length away, allowing her to examine him. She raised her hand to his face, looking into his eyes while she stroked his now smooth cheek, and he could pinpoint the exact moment she knew it was him. Her Beast. She smiled, almost laughing in relief and happiness, and his hands at some point had reached her cheek as well. They moved towards each other, slowly but surely, until eventually he crashed his lips onto hers. He moved his hand to her shoulder, rubbing it up and down, as Belle deepened the kiss even more, wrapping her arms around his torso and pulling him against her, and they savored the feeling of uniting with each other when they'd thought they'd be separated forever. As his lips moved against hers, he finally felt a tear go down his cheek as he thought it over and over again: "she loves me, I love her. She loves me." When they broke away, his arms, seeming so much shorter and thinner, were wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her as tightly as possible against his chest. She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck, and they moved in once more, making up for all the pain they'd felt in the past hour, for all the heartache and pining. He gave her one last peck before resting his forehead against hers, still gripping her tightly with strength almost resembling that of the Beast. "You came back," she said, slight humor in her voice. "I'm never leaving you again," he replied, smiling, his eyes seeming drunk with happiness. "Nor I you. I'm staying right here, though I hope as your guest with free will," she teased. He laughed. "Always Belle, you are always free. You haven't been my prisoner in a long time." She smiled at him, knowing that just this once, he was right. She rested her head in the crook of his neck. "But I'll always be yours. I love you," she murmured, moving away slightly to look at him, wondering if he'd heard her earlier. She realized he hadn't as his eyes lit up with disbelief and joy. "I love you, Belle. For evermore," he affirmed, a contagious, incandescent smile across his face as he held her against him, knowing that he never wanted to let go again.

Author’s Note: hi there!! I really hope you liked this. I’m going to try to keep this short, but basically, I’ve been wanting to write fanfic for years (specifically Beauty and the Beast fanfic because I love Beauty and the Beast so much and have prob read every fanfic out there for it,) but I’ve always been afraid and hesitant because I was scared I couldn’t do it justice. however, the feels for the 2017 movie overtook me, and I had to write this. reviews/feedback would mean the world to me, because I’m still kind of nervous about this haha. but yeah, basically, I hope you liked this.