#him. like he spent so much time studying the enchanter and keeping it safe. keeping that magic.

[cleocatrablossy]

Scar won the series where living depended on a book, and was dictated by a seemingly magical entity that seeming speaks in galactic.

Scar, the man who was obsessed with the enchanter in past seasons. The block the imbues magic from a book written in galactic.

Maybe he was always going end up winning.

Perhaps he made it his fate.

[pattisl0ver]

Joan Ramsey x Fem! Reader~

~Enchanted~ Pt.1

A/N- Y’all this is my first fic in a looong time, so apologies if it isn’t the best, but I am trying to get back into the gist of things. Please message me if you have any recommendations or requests!! This will be a multi-chapter fic. 🫶🏼

Enjoy~

Miss Robichaux’s academy for Exceptional Young Ladies had only recently welcomed you within its ranks, well, welcomed being a loose term, you were sent away there by your father, so there wasn’t much choice in it. He had been forgiving of your witchcraft for a while, putting you to use in the garden in order to keep the flowers in bloom. However as soon as he found out lesbianism had become a feature within you, despite it having nothing to do with your craft, his religious convictions led him to believe your witchcraft to be a devils curse thrust upon you.

The garden outside of the academy was withered and sorrowful, the few plants that remained barely holding on. Cordelia, the headmistress of the academy had assigned you to cater for the garden, she had said that you were a “green witch,” whatever that meant, and so here you were, standing in the blistering heat, overlooking a mound of dirt the academy claimed to be a “garden.”

After around an hour of tilling the dirt and picking the weeds, you head inside for some lemonade. The other girls are there, chattering away, most likely arguing, paying no mind to you. They hardly acknowledged you, not that you wanted them to. The lemonade was cool, sweet, and you hummed softly as you sipped it. Glancing out the window, you spotted new neighbours moving in… a teen boy a little younger than the girls at the academy, accompanied by a woman who must’ve been his mother, shifting furniture inside the Victorian home next door. The others quickly caught on to what you were looking at, and they began to ogle at the teen boy, practically drooling as he took off his shirt in the heat. You however, were more focused on the woman; who seemed to direct the movers, holding a sense of authority over them as she told them where to place the furniture. She was short, only around 5”2, at most, and her chestnut coloured hair was pinned up elegantly, keeping it away from her eyes. She seemed as though she kept herself seperate from the rest of the world, at a safe distance so as to not reveal her true colours.

A few moons later, after gathering some seedlings, you returned to the garden, sowing the seeds tenderly, hand hovering over the mulch whilst you whisper soft enchantments. The teen boy who had just moved in next door smiled softly at you from the window… polite waves were exchanged before his mother pulled him away from the window. You frown softly, confused. The woman shoots you a scowl through her curtains, as if wary of you. Despite this, you give her a soft smile and a wave. Something within you told you she was divined to be close to you, and so you were determined to make it happen. You spent the night baking, another hobby of yours, though this one not made better by your witchcraft, or was it? Who knows.. However, you prepared some raspberry jam tarts, moulding them into shapes of flowers. The real challenge was not in making the tarts, but rather the self restraint of not eating them yourself.

The next morning, you reheated the tarts to perfection, displaying them on a wooden plate, adorned with powdered sugar, before bracing yourself to walk next door. After several more minutes of procrastination you gave in, picking up the plate, and making your way over to the house beside the academy. The garden was already almost pristine, hedges trimmed, not a weed in sight. You hummed in appreciation and stepped up onto the porch before ringing the doorbell, and studying the stained glass windows framing the door. Without much of a wait, the woman you had been examining from afar for around a week opened the door to greet you.

“Hello ma’am. I- uh, my name is Y/N. I live next door.” You spoke softly, your confidence wavering as her eyes met yours.

“Y/N. You’re.. at the academy you say?” She eyes you up and down, taking in your cream coloured lace dress, and your long hair, cascading around your shoulders. Opposing her dark blue, almost conservative dress, and her usual elegant hairstyle, pinned up, fringe straightened. “What can I do for you?” Her voice was smooth, clear, it made you unsure of yourself.

“I- well I just wanted to give you these tarts, they’re raspberry jam, and freshly made, just to… welcome you to the neighbourhood.” You hold out the plate of tarts on display, she examines them and hums in surprise.

“Thats awfully kind of you.” She nods, accepting the tarts and taking the plate. However she eyes you condescendingly. “These weren’t really meant for me were they? They’re for my son are they not?”

You frown slightly and chuckle, thinking she is joking, though this seems more awkward than funny. “Uh- no ma’am, they are for both of you.”

She rolls her eyes. “There is no point in lying to me, I’ve seen how you girls eye my boy. I will not let you seduce him or corrupt his mind.” Her voice is stern, so sure of herself, and yet she couldn’t be more wrong.

You however, didn’t have the courage to challenge her accusation, and so you stammered away. “I- I apologise Ma’am. I didn’t mean to-“

She waves a hand dismissively. “Look Y/N, I’ve dealt with this before, and I’ll likely have to do it again. Just stay away from my boy.”

Confused immensely, yet afraid to disagree, you nod softly. “Yes ma’am.” She nodded in approval and then closed the door behind her, taking the tarts inside, leaving you stranded out on her porch. That was not how this was supposed to go. You needed to prove to her that you weren’t after her son, but how?…

[henrioo]

°•*⁀➷ CROCOBABY: CROCODILE

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "There is only one person that Crocodile would get down on his knees and fulfill every wish without hesitation, you, his little and only son"

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : Dad! Crocodile, PLATONIC STORY! NO ROMANCE! Dad and son's relationship, the reader doesn't have a specific age but he is a small child, Cross guild spoilers, child reader loves circus, just parental cuteness and stuff

꒰ WC ꒱ : 1,2k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : This another stories of a time I only wanted to write about Crocodile, those last times I only want to write for Killer and him, but since I had more ideas for Crocodile I wrote more of him. My finished stories are ending so I'm back writing again, finishing the ask and seeing what I'm going to do next, maybe I will open my request soon but no promises, bye

You coughed, turned again in your bed and finally decided that you weren't going to be able to go back to sleep. You yawned rubbing your eyes with your small hands as you sat up in bed, you looked around the beautiful room you shared with your father. Although you were the one who spent most of your time in that room, so your father had made the necessary changes so that you wouldn't be bored in a place full of adult things.

You now had your own table to study at, your own corner with toys, even an armchair for your size. Furthermore, there were several books that could distract you, it might not be paradise for most children but you were never very demanding, you had toys and other activities and that was more than enough to entertain you for hours. Besides that, when your father was in a good mood he would let you watch the activity at the circus where you lived, it was always such a colorful and lively spectacle that you were mesmerized by everything. Your father hated the circus, but he had made sacrifices for you for your enjoyment, the truth was that more and more of you two went to watch the shows just because he wasn't able to resist the enchanted face of his little son.

Yawning, you moved through the various scarves, furs and other cloths that were always on your bed. Partly to protect you from the cold and partly because you moved so much that your father got tired of always covering you up again, so he just covered you with lots more cloths to make sure you were still covered even if you tossed and turned all night.

You had a little trouble getting out of bed, but you were soon on the floor, your fuzzy socks keeping you from feeling cold. It wasn't long before several of the circus crew saw a child walking around in green banana pajamas and dragging a huge crocodile stuffed animal with him, of course everyone knew who that child belonged to so it wasn't any problem. All the Cross Guild pirates were very kind to you and were always giving you sweets or doing little tricks, you really liked them but your father not so much, so he always made sure you had as little contact with them as possible. He always said that if you spent too much time with them you would become as dumb as Buggy, you didn't understand exactly what that meant.

Luckily the door to your father's office was just ajar, you pushed it with both hands and entered the room. It was similar to his father's old office but was a little smaller and more minimalist, probably because it wasn't very safe to have so much furniture on a ship that could face huge storms. So even now on land his father didn't have many decorations taken from the ship's office.

Crocodile didn't even look up from his papers when the door opened, it was probably Mihawk or Buggy since they had a meeting scheduled this evening, if it weren't them then it would be Mr.1 reporting to him. However, when no one said anything and the door remained open he was slightly confused, he looked up and found no one, his eyebrows were furrowed as he thought of a punishment if it was a prank by Buggy. But to his surprise, all that happened were two little hands pulling his coat trying to get his attention.

“Daddy, lap, daddy” you called for him softly, you were tired and it was obvious that you had just woken up.

"What are you doing here? It’s past your bedtime” he asked with a slightly more affectionate tone that he used specifically for you. Of course it wasn't even close to an extremely loving voice, but it was gentle and calm, an extreme compared to his harsh and aggressive voice towards others. “You should be in bed.” He blew the hair from your forehead as he let you lay against his chest, he had to hold you with his hook arm but you seemed extremely comfortable sleeping on him. It had been a little over an hour since he had put you to sleep and he definitely didn't expect to see you here.

“I can’t sleep” you yawned as you held your crocodile plush tighter and leaned on him, you were lying half sideways against his chest. This reminded the adult of when you were a little baby, he would always hold you regardless of what he needed to do, you were a very needy baby, always crying when he left you alone... maybe he missed how little and needy of his attention you were.

“Do you want me to put you to bed again?” Crocodile was ignoring that he had a meeting soon, the other two pirates could wait, after all his little sand prince would always be his priority.

“No… I'll be right back… I just want… to stay here for a little while” you yawned and finally closed your eyes and relaxed completely against your father. You were already big, but now curled up in his arms with a face so relaxed you almost looked like a baby again.

Sighing Crocodile couldn't hold back his smile, of course he was quick to hide it not wanting anyone but you to see this. He covered you with the huge coat he always wore and went back to his paperwork, he would take you to his bed soon, he would just enjoy this peaceful time with you a little more.

He only realized that a lot of time had passed when Mihawk, Buggy and Mr.1 were entering the office. The clown was shouting and complaining about something while Mihawk ignored him, Daz was holding some papers and approached his boss's desk more quickly. Obviously he was quick to notice the strange bulge hidden beneath his coat, before he could question it he saw his little hand clinging to his father's shirt, he almost smiled but that didn't suit him.

“Do you want me to take the young master to the room?” He asked as he placed the papers on the table and the mention of another person in the room made Mihawk and Buggy shift their attention to Crocodile.

“No, I'll take him after the meeting” he dismissed the support, even though Mr.1 had been his babysitter for the last few months, there were things that the pirate refused to let others do with his son. These were things that only he, the father, had the right to do.

"I see we will have a little guest today" Mihawk said with a gentler air as he sat down, it was strange but the swordsman didn't hate children. A few times he had even seen the two of you interacting while Dracule told you about some island he had been to.

“Oh, that explains his calmness” Buggy sighed a little relieved knowing that Crocodile would never be cruel or scary in front of him.

“Shut up and let’s get this over with, I have other matters to deal with” the hooked man said harshly. Everyone agreed but deep down it wasn't difficult to realize that your father had a huge soft spot for you... And well, you weren't complaining about that.

[cedarmoonzz]

quiet, the winter harbor

ship: mentioned kurapika x reader

warnings: none. just angst and pain and more pain.

summary: in york new, the snow is harsh and unpredictable. kurapika thinks of what once was and what can be.

•｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

Winter is a dream and I love you, Kurapika.

His mother used to say that.

Always in the same breath, a run-on sentence that drifted on chill winds, rendering them almost poetic. Fragmented whispers intertwined, swirling like the storm outside, seeping into your clothes, your nose, your chest, and residing there forever. This ritualistic chant kept the cold at bay; that's what his mother taught him, repeating the phrase until the boy could murmur it in his sleep.

In his dreams, the syllables rose and fell like points of a star folded into a circle, endlessly repeating. Perpetually.

WinterisadreamandIlove

Learning it this way, reciting it so, turned the season gentle no matter how bitter the air bit.

Now that he is older, Kurapika has discovered that the blizzard-rhyme mantra doesn’t always work. But it helps.

He repeats the words to himself now, watching the weather unfold, years and a lifetime away from the home where he first heard the incantation. Night deepens, from sunset into a realm beyond indigo. It's dark, almost black, and when he lifts his hands to the sky, Kurapika’s fingernails merge with the bleakness. His knuckles become pale night-clouds, obscuring the few stars that dare to appear.

A poem of exhalation whispers from his mouth, unfurling from his throat, fogging the air. The freeze of winter invades within. The warmth of his breath escapes without.

It’s beginning to snow.

The first flakes arrive quietly, like early visitors hoping to go unnoticed as they settle. A few land on Kurapika’s upturned palms, and by the time he lowers his hands, they have already melted away. In York New, the snow is harsh and unpredictable, its gentleness stripped away. Without a layer to insulate yourself from it—fabric or nen, glass or glove—you destroy what you seek to touch, ruin it with your very existence. Snowflakes require time to study. They are like people.

No two alike.

At times, the quest for closeness seems as elusive as a mirage in the desert. Kurapika reminisces about the moments spent with Y/n, where the intimacy was as delicate and ephemeral as the snowflakes he yearns to capture. The closeness he sought felt akin to grasping at snow before it vanished—intense, yet fleeting. Similarly, Y/n’s presence was a paradox of familiarity and enigma, their bond a beautiful tapestry that remained vulnerable to the caprices of fate. Much like snow, their connection was governed by forces beyond their control, and though they reached for each other with heartfelt desire, instances of genuine closeness were as rare and precious as capturing a snowflake on the tip of a finger.

Kurapika was enchanted by that mystery early on, while his mother brewed hot teas to keep him safe from the flu, and his father laughed, bringing extra blankets. The windows of their ramshackle home were heavy with frost that year. His parents insulated the cracks and panes with Kurtan tapestries, leaving only a tiny slice of view for Kurapika to part the curtains and peer out at the storm.

Winter is a dream, his mother sighed, song-like, touching her slender hand to the windowpane, dwarfing his own stubby child-fingers. And I love you, Kurapika.

His father joined them, tucking the blanket around his wife’s shoulders, dropping a fold on his child’s head. The coarse weave rubbed against Kurapika’s cheek as he leaned into it. The knobbiness of his father’s knee pressed against his back, assembling his limbs on the bed where they all sat. With his arms wrapped around his family, the man bent his head to kiss Kurapika’s hair, watching the evening unravel into midnight.

His mother understood the delicate way snow fell. Kurapika could see it in her eyes. The reverence for nature’s fragility, the awareness of how easily it could be destroyed; she knew that what once existed could never be revived, only remade at best. Refrozen.

Flakes descended by the thousands, never individually noticed, buried beneath the shrouds of their companions, but Kurapika’s mother seemed intent on memorizing every single one as they fell.

Even when the boy was fighting sleep, lids heavy and head resting against his father’s chest, Kurapika’s mother was still touching the windowpane.

Understanding.

You couldn’t piece people together the way you made ice, pouring water into molds and sliding the tray into the freezer, timing the process with a watch. When snowflakes melted, you could never freeze them back into the same shape.

But you could try.

•｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

[sondepoch]

HC: MC breaks a bone!

Demons can’t break bones. Neither can angels. Nope, from head to toe, they’re pretty much indestructible. So imagine everyone’s utter shock when you break a bone, and they’re reminded of just how weak the human body really is.

Word Count: 5.2k

SFW + mild violence + mild description of broken bones 

Characters: All Brothers + All Undateables + Luke

MASTERLIST

Lucifer

Boi flips out

So it didn’t actually happen while he was around, which is why he has so much trouble understanding what happened

You tripped on the steps outside Majolish? And you fell the wrong way??? And somehow, that was enough for you to break your ankle?!?!?!

Poor baby, he has no idea how he’s going to relay the information to Diavolo

When Mammon and Asmo sheepishly enter his study to tell him what happened, they’re highkey terrified for their lives - but learning that you actually broke a bone has him so shook that he doesn’t even remember to punish them, and he’s instead rushing to your room to see the damage for himself

He sees Belphie napping on your stomach and sort of assumes that everything is okay, and that his brothers were making a big deal out of nothing

Then he gets closer and sees the horribly twisted angle your left foot is in

Suffice it to say, neither Mammon nor Asmo returned to their rooms fully unscathed that night

Overcomes his natural hatred of Solomon to call him and ask for—brace yourself—help, and when the mage offers to cast a spell that will revert your body to its prior state, Lucifer insists on doing it himself, no longer trusting anyone else with your all-too-fragile body

Relocates your room to the first floor of the house after all is said and done

Asks Diavolo to move all your classes such that you don’t need to climb any stairs

Refuses to believe you when you tried to insist that bones breaking is fairly common for humans

Becomes super overprotective

Insists on helping you with everything

“Lucifer, I can walk down the stairs myself, you know.”

“Yes, I’m sure you can” - he says with a straight face, refusing to let go of your hand as he takes you down the two-step elevation outside the House of Lamentation

(Bonus:) One day he catches you and Levi looking at parkour videos and from that moment and onward he refuses to let you out of sight for any longer than is absolutely necessary

(Bonus bonus:) Catches you doing "parkour" in your bedroom, jumping from Beel’s shoulders to the bed, and then it becomes a new house rule that you’re not allowed to climb onto Beel’s shoulders

Mammon

He was with you when it happened, and the second he heard the crack, he screamed

Honestly, the most high-pitched, shrill sound you’d ever heard

You were more scared of the noise coming out of Mammon’s mouth than the awkward way your pinky was dangling

Only when he was done screaming did the pain actually set in, and then you were hissing viciously in an attempt to distract yourself, trying your hardest to blink the tears from your eyes because Mammon already looked like he was about to cry, and the Devildom really didn’t need two blubbering messes in one day

The one saving grace for you both was the fact that Simeon was nearby, and he used his Celestial magic to heal you (you both begged him not to tell Lucifer, of course)

Baby becomes even more possessive over you afterwards

Still can’t get over how easily it happened

“Are ya sure?” Mammon asks whenever you casually tell him you’re about to do something. Doesn’t matter if you say you’re folding paper cranes or planning on jumping off the roof of the House of Lamentation, he’s lost pretty much all faith in your ability to do anything without your human body breaking in the process

Oddly enough, he becomes much more touchy with you

Needs you to “prove to him” that you’re not injured by squeezing his hand

And then he just doesn’t let go

Oh, you’re holding hands? What? Who said that? Wait, can you prove that you’re not injured and squeeze his hand again? It’s for safety purposes. For safety.

Occasionally, though, he really does have you move your pinky just to prove to him that there weren’t any lasting effects

Overprotectiveness increases by 500 points

Starts to hover around your room a lot more, awkwardly trying to help (really, he’s doing his best) but often doing things much worse than if you simply did them yourself

Gets into a fight with his brothers whenever one of them handles you too roughly

“Hey!” He shouts at pretty much anyone who touches you “Ya gonna hurt my human!”

Will drop anything and everything if he ever sees you trip to catch your fall

Legit, he was once holding Lucifer’s cup of coffee and out of the corner of his eye, he saw you jump to flop on the couch. Cue instant panic mode: he turned into his demon form and all - literally throwing the coffee on Lucifer as he ran forward to catch your body before the couch could break any of your bones

Yeah, he got into a lot of trouble that day

Leviathan

Has officially decided that he’s never going outside again

Ever.

It happened while you were both at one of Lord Diavolo’s parties - you were trying to maneuver the crowds in search of him, actually, and another demon tugged you close and tried to force you to dance. You fought back, of course, frowning as you escaped the demon’s hold, but apparently, they pulled you back and your wrist just snapped

God, he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the sound of your scream

The demon was punished severely, Diavolo made sure of that. But Levi didn’t care anymore - he just wanted to get you back home, safe and sound

In the following days, he never leaves your side

You have to switch to online classes, at least for as long as your wrist is healing, and Levi takes it upon himself to make sure that the assimilation process is as smooth as possible

You start taking all your classes together, remaining in the same room even if you don’t have the same subject

Homework is a little harder, since Levi usually finishes before you, but he waits for you to finish while he reads manga

Evenings are spent watching anime in his room and debating random topics (oh, and you both marathon the entirety of TSL a couple more times ;))

He even tries to let you get the video game experience, and he picks an RPG game for you both to play and lets you tell him what to do an how to move around, since your wrist is broken

It’s actually super fun because he knows where all the traps are and which ones you’ll like, so he subtly guides your character through the gameplay process to get the best possible experience, and you actually end up enjoying this more than playing solo

(As a joke, he once offers to let you play with him. As in, you use your nonbroken hand to control the left side of the controller and he controls the right side, but that turns out to be a hot mess and you both quickly abandon the idea)

Even after your wrist heals, the two of you continue to spend boatloads of time together

This boy even stops calling you “normie” at one point

Real subtle about it but he tries to convince you not to go back into society again. Like ever. 

“What if you get hurt again?” He asks when you tell him you’ve made plans with Asmo to go shopping

“Then we get to spend even more time together, all over again!”

Cue leviathan/blushingmess.exe

Satan

Probably the ONLY brother to have actually known that it’s possible for humans to break bones

Why?

He read about it in a book once

Still, that doesn’t stop him from visually flinching when he sees you writhing on the ground after being shoved into a bike rack by a lower-level demon, clutching your arm which is disfigured so awkwardly that the bone is popping out

His demon form manifests immediately, and he’s about to rip this demon to shreds when you desperately call out his name, and then he’s more preoccupied with helping you than he is with beating this demon to death

(Inwardly, though, he’s quite relieved that you stopped him from killing the demon immediately. Now, he’ll get to spend the next four millennia torturing the creature slowly, keeping it just an inch from death until he’s satisfied that the demon has paid for injuring you so severely. :))

Runs over to you immediately and pulls you onto his lap, quickly muttering an enchantment that will temporarily numb the pain

Proceeds to ask you whether you want him to use magic to forcefully heal you or if you want to heal the human way

Will respect your wishes 100% no matter which you choose

Throws himself into reading and studying human medicine as soon as the two of you get back to the House of Lamentation

By the end of the month, he’s an expert on human anatomy (and where human strength lies on a comparative figure to demon strength)

Takes it upon himself to watch out for you, threatening any demons who express behavior that isn’t excessively cautious

Starts walking with you and Mammon to and from school

Keep it lowkey, but the truth is that he doesn’t trust his brother to fully make sure that you’re safe so he takes it upon himself

Doesn’t really panic too much, he knows that you getting injured was more the demon’s fault than it was yours

Is actually very considerate of your feelings in all this

Consciously makes sure that he doesn’t treat you too differently, not wanting to make you feel like he thinks you’re weak. But he no longer trusts other demons around you, and after getting your permission, he casts an enchantment on you which prevents lower-level demons from touching you without your explicit consent

Smiles devilishly every single time one of them tries to shove you in the hallways of RAD and gets sent flying 30 meters backwards in response

Devilish smile intensifies when he finally gets around to kidnapping and torturing the demon who dared to push and injure you in the first place

Asmodeus

He’s worried about you for a good hour

Not to say he’s inconsiderate

No, he’s understandably concerned immediately after he sees you on crutches, and when you come home with a broken foot, he’s immediately hanging out with you and completely (read: barely) restraining himself from making flirtatious comments in case you’re still in pain

The second he realizes that you’re fine as long as you don’t apply pressure on it, a switch flips

Now that he knows that the fracture isn’t going to spread to the rest of your body and destroy you from the inside, he’s overwhelmed with how cute it is that you need his help to do basic stuff

And honestly, you kinda vibe with it

He’s the shortest brother, so you having to ask him for help to get things off the shelf because you can’t stand is a rarity, and he is living for it

He lives with six overlords of hell, so the feeling of someone asking (no matter how reluctant) him for help in simple stuff like climbing up or down the stairs is something he absolutely cherishes

The second he realizes how good it feels to do stuff for you, he’ll never stop

Will 100% put Mammon to shame in how frequently he starts hanging by your side

He thinks of everything even before you do, always making sure that when you guys sit down, you have everything you need to be occupied for hours: from water to nail polish to the latest gossip at RAD, this man will make it his life’s mission to be the perfect prince while you’re injured

Seriously spoils you

Even when you finally heal and get better, he doesn’t stop helping you

Actually has the nerve to start complaining when you try to do stuff on your own

“You’re going to hurt yourself! Let me do it for you!”

“Asmo, I’m microwaving popcorn”

It doesn’t matter if you shower him with 'thank yous’ or if you grunt in annoyance every time he sits down next to you with an item you were about to get up and look for, he knows you appreciate the things he’s doing and that’s all he needs

Effectively gives you the royal treatment, occasionally putting Barbatos to shame with how diligent he is in helping you out

It never stops, even months after you’ve made a full recovery

Then again, who are you to complain? ;)

Beelzebub

Suddenly becomes terrified of his own strength

He’s there as it happens, and the way your face immediately contorts in pain right before you bite your lip to stop yourself from screaming will really never stop haunting him

It doesn’t help that you get injured from something that would usually be considered child-safe in the Devildom - a small windup toy which your fingers had gotten stuck in before two of them snap completely

Man is by your side immediately

The pit in his stomach isn’t caused by hunger but by genuine fear as he watches Lucifer and Satan soothe you with magic

He wants to run over to you and wipe your tears away, but should he? How can that be a good idea? He’s easily 1000000000x stronger than that toy you were messing around with, and what if he accidentally hurts you?

He knew it was possible for him to kill you before, but now he realizes how easy it would be - so simple that he might not even realize it

Instantly steps back and begins avoiding physical contact with you, trying his hardest to be there for you emotionally but struggling because every time you ask him for cuddles, he awkwardly changes the subject and looks away

He only comes clean to you about his concerns after you get mad at him and plant yourself in his lap, wrapping your arms around his head angrily as you demand that he give you affection

“Beel,” You mutter, a light pout forming on your face. “The reason you’re strong isn’t just because you have the muscles, it’s because you have control. You’ve never hurt me before, and nothing you do will hurt me now, so stop being such a stubborn goof and hug me”

Cue very hesitant hug

But it’s a start, and he slowly becomes physically close to you once more

(Subtly tries to let you stay in charge, though. He’ll initiate hugs, but you’re the one to squeeze tightly, and he’ll simply follow your lead)

Decides that rather than being afraid of what his strength can do, he’s going to use it to his advantage - and he resolves to become even stronger so that if there’s ever anything that can cause you pain, he’ll be there by your side protecting you, whether it’s against a demon strong as Diavolo or another windup toy from Majolish

Gets into the habit of running his fingers over your hand after it’s done healing, checking for scars and making sure that you’re still completely healed

Slowly develops into handholding - and who is Beel to complain? If he’s holding your hand, he’s by your side, and if he’s by your side, he can better protect you, so there’s no problem there

Belphegor

Quietly blames himself

It apparently happened while you were alone, and you fell down the stairs in the House of Lamentation. But Belphie is 99.99% sure that you were only going up to see him, and if he had just been awake, this never would have happened

Not to mention, this was the second time he had caused you pain, and it wasn’t even intentional!

Boy can’t look you in the eyes properly after the incident

Starts forcing himself to stay awake and isolates himself in the attic

Only when Beel finally gets serious and asks him what’s wrong does he quietly confess his thoughts, and his twin is quick to relay the information back to you

Honestly, you’re lowkey relieved when you hear the reason 

You were beginning to think that Belphie was avoiding you because he had grown tired of your company, and the thought was sort beginning to break your heart

That doesn’t stop you from yelling at him for being inconsiderate 

“This is why you need to talk about your feelings, Belphie!”

“But— “

“No buts!”

Honestly, he’s kind of relieved to see you yell at him so animatedly despite the cast around your arm, it makes him realize that although you’re physically injured, you’re mentally fine

Is very hesitant about napping on you, especially since he knows that if he falls asleep and accidentally shifts into a position that hurts you, you won’t be strong enough to stop him

You flick his forehead and tell him to not to be stupid, insisting that he sleeps next to you like usual, and he very hesitantly leans on the shoulder of the opposite arm you injured

Becomes way more considerate, even when tired

Shift in your sleep? He’s awake, checking to make sure that you aren’t uncomfortable or in pain

Wake up and try to get a glass of water? No problem, Belphie will get it for you, just stay here and sleep tight

Hogging the blanket? For the first time, Belphie doesn’t even mind, he’ll just carefully snuggle closer to you, double-checking that you’re comfortable before drifting back off to sleep

Even after the cast comes off, he’s still conscious about how tightly he grips you and how much physical exertion you put your body through, always reminding himself that, above all, you’re human and your body can’t handle the things his can

Solomon

Groans

That’s right, thanks to an awkward fall, your toe is broken, and this wizard boy has to audacity to groan at the sight of you on the floor, tears in your eyes as you clutch your foot through your shoe

“As if those brothers don’t hate me enough as is,” He grumbles, lifting you to your feet and whisking you back to Purgatory Hall, where he goes full medic mode and inspects the damage

Tries his hardest to convince you to let him fix it with magic, but just last week, he accidentally turned you into a cat while attempting to place a strength enchantment over you, so you’re understandably hesitant as you refuse him

As expected, when the brothers find out, they put him through hell (pun intended)

For not being able to protect you while it happens (they ignore his complaints that it was technically you who fell and injured yourself) he is now tasked with your recovery

Aka he is your slave

You make him carry your books when you go from class to class, you make him buy you lunch from the cafeteria, you make him give you his lecture notes whenever you don’t feel like paying attention in class

Hell, if he weren’t such a god awful cook, you would probably make him take over your cooking duty, as well

“This is abuse” He huffs one day, sighing in irritation after you ask him to go fetch you a glass of water

“I’m sorry?” You ask, feigning innocence. “What’s that? Did you ask me to go tell Lucifer that you aren’t treating me properly?”

Grumbles under his breath in six different languages, cursing you out in each one of them as you wink at him

You’re almost sad when your toe finally heals, and he’s finally free

Thankfully, the two of you somehow grew used to each other after spending so much time together for so long, and (much to the brothers’ displeasure) you continue hanging out with Solomon long after you’re off crutches

Will tease you about it when it’s all over

He doesn’t forget about how you lorded over him for as long as you were injured, and thus takes it upon himself to make sure that you don’t get hurt again under his watch

(At least, that’s what he tells himself as he holds your hand to march you down the steps outside Majolish, not letting go even after the ‘threat’ is passed)

Simeon

confusedangel.exe

First and foremost, how did this happen??

He’s so concerned and shocked when you show up to RAD one day in crutches because you broke a bone on your leg

Didn’t know that was possible

Actually goes home and spends half an hour on the Devildom equivalent of Google trying to maneuver his phone and search up how common this is and whether it’s normal for humans

Accidentally opens the images tab and sees a bunch of super disturbing and painful-looking injuries, and he nearly drops his phone altogether

Instantly assumes that your injury is as bad as those, despite your constant reassurances that you’re fine as long as you don’t apply too much pressure

Lots of pampering

He’s suddenly available 100% of the time for you, no matter what he’s already doing or the time of day

Insists on helping you wherever he can, like holding your stuff for you at RAD, ferrying you from class to class without forcing you to don that heavy rucksack 

Even takes over the responsibility of walking you to and from school

He doesn’t quite understand that your injury is physical??

Like he can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that you’re mentally unaffected by the injury, because angelic injuries are typically so difficult to induce and severe that they always cause some kind of trauma 

He’s always testing you - double-checking that you remember facts from old lectures, holding up fingers to test your sight, even asking you details about himself every now and then

That’s actually the story of how you accidentally told him that you thought his eyes were prettier than the sky and he still hasn’t forgotten it

Never really forgets about your injury, even after your crutches are long gone

Protectiveness goes up by 5000%

He suddenly becomes acutely aware of the fact that you’re surrounded by demons and, although the brothers usually mean well, he becomes impossible concerned for how you’re faring

He expresses his concerns to you one day really sweetly and you’re so touched because ??? How can someone be this pure???

To ease his concerns, you both start hanging out a lot more - when before you mostly hung out at the RAD library before parting ways, Simeon now invites you over to Purgatory Hall more often and you bring him back to the House of Lamentation so that he can see how safe you are with the brothers

Luke

Just like Simeon, there’s so much confusion going on inside this smol bean’s head

Are you really telling him that you??? the person who has taken it upon themself to be protective over HIM??? are so weak and fragile??? that tripping over a pebble was enough to fracture your jaw???

The roles in your relationship are suddenly reversed

(Or well, Luke tries to reverse them)

He does his best to be there for you instead of vice versa, insisting that you no longer need to save him from the brothers when they make fun of him for being like a chihuahua 

Lowkey, he actually earns their respect for how protective he’s suddenly being over you, but the baby can only go so far because - face it - he’s basically ten years old

Doesn’t let that stop him from shooting dirty looks toward any demon who looks at the bandages on your face twice

Immediately goes home and researches what kind of foods you can comfortably eat, and enlists both Barbatos and Beel’s help in cooking soft dishes for you that you’ll be able to eat, despite your injury

Does his best to help you where he can

Takes over your cooking duty at the House of Lamentation

Takes extra-detailed notes so he can lend them to you after class

Even goes as far as to get high-quality Celestial bandages with natural healing properties and gives them to you, hoping that everything he’s doing will make your recovery a little bit faster

He’s really come to look up to you as an older sibling, so seeing you injured (even if you don’t necessarily show the pain) has him seriously torn up inside, and it takes all his effort to keep a straight face every time he looks at you and sees the bandages on your face

If you’re even a little self-conscious about any scars afterwards, he will spend hours convincing you that you look fine (and in truth, he can’t actually see the scar anymore, so he’s being honest)

Long after you’re recovered, he will remember at the most random times that you’re so fragile despite always looking so strong, and it tears him up inside

Because of this, random, tearful hugs become the norm

Occasionally, one look is all it takes before his eyes are welling with tears and he’s burying his face inside your stomach, holding you tight and promising to “protect you to make sure that you never get hurt again”

Very innocent, very sweet

Never fully forgets ever again just how fragile humans are

Barbatos

Knew it could happen

Was sort of prepared for it to happen

Didn’t actually expect it to fucking happen

This is probably one of the only times where he regrets not using his powers to check and see what the future held - literally, it would have been so easy to have saved you had he known it was coming 

Went to Diavolo asking to switch timelines but the demon lord said no

Highkey becomes incredibly protective of you, just in super subtle ways

You suddenly find yourself invited to Diavolo’s palace much more often, and it’s Barbatos who now entertains you, bringing you there under the guise of asking you to “taste the new recipes” he’s attempting to perfect

Pfft, his recipes are already the definition of perfect - the only reason he’s putting that food in your mouth is because he cast a spell on it, and it’ll make your bones stronger

Dodges all questions when you ask about it, real slick

“Barbatos, isn’t this the same dish you gave Beel when we came here last month?”

“I’m afraid I have no recollection of what you’re talking about.”

“You know, the dessert you gave him after he asked you for the biggest banana spli—”

“Oh my, would you look at the time. Let’s get you home, now, before it gets too late”   

Used to walk in front of you when walking you around the palace, but he now walks behind you so that he can watch you in case you trip

I mean, why wouldn’t he? You managed to break your collarbone while jumping down the stairs in Diavolo’s palace - you clearly can’t be trusted to look after your own health

(lowkey also never leaves you unsupervised around Mammon again, who in hell thinks it’s a good idea to try parkour of all things in the castle of the demon lord??? and encourages it?????)

Finds it incredibly endearing when your injury renders you unable to do basic tasks

Like if you were a helpless human in his mind before, now you’re less independent than an unpottytrained demonchild, and Barbatos is living for it, especially since you’re too stubborn to ask the brothers for help, so you turn to him instead

Absolutely loves when you text him for help

[17:39] MC: barbatos?

[17:40] Barbatos: Yes? Are you in need of something?

[17:40] MC: ...i was walking around the House of Lamentation and i accidentally banged into the wall outside Satan’s room and there was a really big sound and it turns out that i knocked a bunch of his books off the shelf and he comes home in half an hour and please help he’s going to kill me if he sees what happened

[17:40] Barbatos:

[17:41] Barbatos: I’ll be right there.

Diavolo

Oh boy

This man has lived a long, LONG time and never in all those millennia has he been as pissed as he is now, seeing you sheepishly lean on Mammon for support with the nearly all of your leg hanging limp

What he can’t grasp is the fact that this actually happened in school

Like, it would be one thing if a demon had injured you out of spite - he could simply punish them for all eternity and eradicate the root of the problem

But for you to be injured this severely? In spellcasting class, no less?

Instantly fires the teacher who was careless enough to let you walk into a casting circle which almost obliterated you whole - and spends ages commending Satan for having the wit to save you before things got even worse

But that doesn’t stop him from using the full extent of his princely power to ensure your continued safety

Instantly moves you out of the House of Lamentation and into his own palace, ignoring Lucifer’s repeated requests for you to not be moved

“I need to make sure they’re comfortable,” He hisses to his right-hand man, almost to Barbatos’s amusement. “The healing process for humans is long, and I need to make sure that they get better without the distractions your brothers provide”

Makes it painfully clear that if you ever get injured again under an RAD teacher’s watch, nothing will be able to save them from the unforgiving flames of his wrath

Starts spending as much time with you as humanly possible 

He always stops by your room in the afternoon, generally to check on your well being and to inquire on how you’re faring, but those conversations always seem to wrap up late at night, long after you’ve both abandoned the original topic at hand and are lost in discussion over something else

One time, when he was feeling particularly guilty after looking at the painful swelling on your leg, he invited you back to his own room to sleep on his bed because - as the acting king of the Devildom - his bed is literally the most comfortable place in the world and he hardly uses it

You sleep in it once and can never sleep anywhere else again

For more reasons than one

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

(Reluctantly) offers to let you move back into the House of Lamentation once you’re completely healed, but celebrates like crazy when you tell him that you’d much rather stay with him, and it becomes SUCH an ego stroke every time you remind him how much you adore it in his palace

Lowkey grateful that you got injured because it was the catalyst that allowed you both to grow close

But will absolutely make sure that nothing of the like ever happens again

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Safe With Me (Yandere!Plat!C!Ranboo x F!Reader) 2/???

TW: Yandere, blood, canon lives lost, mention of painkillers, kiddnapping, swearing

Part One

Over the next few days, he practically begged you to come to live with him in the Snowchester mansion, claiming that you could be much safer there, and closer to him. A.k.a, away, FAR away from Technoblade.

While you liked the thought, you explained to him that you liked your home and wanted to wait a bit before moving in. Ranboo was a little upset but quickly went back to smiling and saying he understood... He couldn't be mad at you... This was life changing for ender's sake.

Then your last day at his home came quicker than he would have liked.. but that's not the only reason he hated that day...

Maybe the voices took over?

Or maybe he was of his own free will when he did it..?

He never fully got the answer out of you and he never understood what happened... He never understood why that damned man decided to take everything from him that day...

You had walked out the door a few minutes ago with a smile on your face and a travel cup full of whatever hot drink you had made before leaving... Then he heard an ear-piercing scream.

Stumbling over his own long and lanky legs, he ran out the door as fast as he could, crashing and tripping over furniture before reaching his front door. He threw it open with a cry of your name and saw the scene he feared the most...

Every single one of his fears had come true.

You were laying lifelessly on the stark white snow, eyes and mouth wide open with dull terror as your clothes were covered in an almost beautiful ruby red liquid seeping from a hole in your chest. Your once shiny (e/c) eyes were glazed over like the glass eyes of a doll, your skin rapidly losing any sort of beautiful hue he had once studied.

Ranboo couldn't stop the scream of bloody murder that escaped his throat as he stumbled through the snow and collapsed to his knees beside your colourless corpse. His hands quickly became covered in the red liquid as it seeped into the snow, flowing freely from the wound that had been created by the man he has once respected.

He knew you were already gone by the time he came out, but he still kept trying to get you to wake up. His colourless hands gently shaking you, holding your face in between his stained hands, trying anything to keep the life from leaving your body, but obviously failing.

"She has one more life left. You're overreacting." His pink-haired neighbour growled softly as your body began to break apart into particles. Despite the piglin's words, the other hybrid sobbed hysterically with his head thrown back to the sky, ignoring the tears burning into his skin.

"I'll kill you."

"Heh?"

"I'll kill you for this, Technoblade." Ranboo tilted his head back down as the black part of his skin began to seep into the white part. His green eye turned into an amethyst-coloured purple and his mouth began to split open.

The next few days to him were a blur... Or that was his memory getting worse...

He'll never really know...

He just knew that you weren't safe without him... You were on your last canon life! You had to be protected...

Even if that meant you couldn't leave...

He had a few more days before you woke up from your respawn, so he set to work quickly. Ranboo began to build an obsidian building, reminding him very much of his panic room, but he couldn't focus on the fact for very long. He had to build something only he could get into. Something that would protect you. Something that couldn't be destroyed.

It was difficult and took longer than he would've liked... But it was safe and out of the way. No one would find it, but that was what he wanted. It was for your safety! And so he could remember you forever! He couldn't complain even if he was tired and his hands were covered in blisters from mining for so long...

Carrying your momentarily lifeless body through L'Manberg was stressful enough, with the emotional and mental pain of carrying the person he held closest to him, but with everyone quickly running up and asking what happen... He found himself unable to say anything other than, "Technoblade..." before brushing past them as quickly as possible, trying to get you to your new home.

There was an almost disgustingly familiar throbbing in your head that awoke you a few days later. You couldn't place where you had felt the headache before, but didn't think too much about it as you just decided to get up and start your day, "I wonder if Ranboo wants to hang out again, I mean... Then again, we've spent an entire week together. Mans is probably sick of me by now..." You laughed a bit to yourself, trying to hide the little stab of self-deprivation that filled your body.

Pushing yourself out of bed, you looked around and sighed, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, "At least I unpacked before I passed out... Now, where did I put the stupid painkillers...?" You walked out of your room, cringing at the cold wooden oak floors and sight of the darkened windows, "Ooookay. Slept less or longer than I thought... Maybe social interaction is more draining than I would like..."

You shuffled around your house and lit a few of the lanterns in your kitchen, digging through the cupboards to find something to alleviate the throbbing pain behind your eyes, "Oh! I went shopping before I passed out? Huh... Maybe I got a bit tipsy or something? Wait... I didn't buy painkillers? Dammit! I always need something I didn't buy..."

Groaning, you put your hand to your head before grabbing a sweater to put over the clothes you slept in, which were the clothes you left Ranboo's house in, before slipping on your shoes. Once you looked at yourself in the mirror, you deemed yourself ready to go outside and head by the store, so you opened the door...

Only to walk into a solid black wall.

"H-huh?" You whispered, gently reaching up and touching the cold material blocking your exit, "Ob...Obsidian? What on earth?... What kind of prank is Tommy pulling now?!" You huffed angrily and walked over to a window... Only to realize it wasn't dark... Every exit was covered in obsidian. "Okay, okay, what the- oh, wait I have tools! Ha ha Tommy, suck a pickaxe."

Walking over to your storage room and opened the chest that held your tools and materials to make tools, only to find it completely empty. Your armour was gone too! This... Was an elaborate prank... Maybe Tommy got help with it. You pushed yourself up and walked over to your enderchest, only to find it completely gone!

Dammit, Tommy definitely got help with this...

Realizing that they wanted you to panic, you huffed and sat down on your bed, crossing your arms in thought, "This... Ah, just gotta wait it out I guess..." You mumbled angrily, flopping onto your couch, groaning in annoyance as the action irritated your headache. Maybe you could sleep it off? Yeah, that was your best bet.

You weren't exactly sure how much time had past to be completely honest? Maybe a few days? Or a few hours? There wasn't much to really do during this horrible prank, you couldn't even enchant your tools or even make any! You didn't even have knives for cooking dammit! Plus... You were beginning to run low on food...

This time you woke up to something different. It sounded like Redstone activating and pistons sliding against each other before the door creaked open. The prank was finally over! Thank god! You shot up from your bed and walked towards the front door, only to see Ranboo standing there with bags filled with groceries dangling off his arms and tail. With a sigh, he decided to put them on the kitchen counter before looking around, only to completely light up at the sight of you, "(Y/n)! Hello!"

"Ranboo..." You smiled, your voice a bit hoarse from the lack of use, "Please tell me Tommy's terrible prank is over and I can go outside and touch grass again.

The hybrid's expression didn't change, "You can't go."

Your smile faltered a bit and you grit your teeth. This prank was still going on? How annoying. Turning quickly towards your door, you huffed as you saw it blocked off by obsidian again, "Boo... Please let me out... I'm not enjoying this prank anymore. I don't even have a clock-"

"Oh? Did I forget to build you a clock when I built this place? My bad, I'll make you one tonight so I can give it to you tomorrow." He continued to smile, beginning to put away your groceries for you... Somehow having the exact brands you always bought... And... Knowing exactly where they went, "But, you can't leave."

"This... This isn't funny anymore, Ranboo." You spoke firmly, but your voice wavered a small bit in realization as your face drained slightly of colour, "Built... This place? You put me here?"

The tone of voice, while still not lessening his smile, caught his attention, "Oh... You're looking pale... Here, let's get you to bed. You aren't looking too good and I don't want you getting sick." He walked over and put his hands on your shoulders, trying to get you to head into your room, but you wouldn't budge, "(Y/n), come on, I'm just doing what's best for your health and safety. We don't want you to lose your final life, especially to an easily preventable sickness, do we?"

"Final... Life...?" You were going to be sick... Quickly lifting your arm into view, you realized he was right. There was only one black line left. There were two when you visited Ranboo... What...? "I'm-I'm not tired... Ranboo, what happened?!"

"I'm not going to taint your memories with something so horrifying..." His voice, while sounding sickly sweet, sounded disgustingly morbid, "That's why you're in here! So I can keep you completely safe from the dangers of the outside world and remember you forever!" He was still wearing that damned smile...

He took you away from your life...

And he was fucking smiling...

-

GENERAL TAGLIST: Empty

'SAFE WITH ME' TAGLIST: @kylobensgirl

[iliveiloveiwrite]

The Mirror of Erised // Draco Malfoy

Summary: Curious professors, treasure hunts, romantic feelings.

A/N: This idea gripped me and I couldn't let it go. I haven't written for Draco in so long, I forgot how much I love this character. 

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Female!Reader

Warnings: fluff, pining, mutual pining, kissing, treasure hunts, humour, swearing, mentions of food and drink

Word count: 4.4k

The air of the greenhouses was always humid; thick with moisture, creating the perfect environment for the magical plants of Hogwarts to thrive and grow. Tended by all students, the greenhouses saw an abundance of visitors every day.

The collection of greenhouses had been your solace as a teenager studying at the enchanting school. Too anxious from the state of wizarding society, the greenhouses became a place of calm for you. Professor Sprout had taken you under your wing after your fourth visit to the unconventional classrooms. From there, your knowledge of magical plants and their properties grew until you were the one they called when the school was destroyed, and students were injured.

It wasn’t long after the Battle of Hogwarts that McGonagall offered you a teaching position, wanting a trustworthy, welcoming soul to take over from Professor Sprout. Sprout hadn’t worried; she knew she had left her beloved greenhouses in safe hands.

Days in the greenhouses always flew by. You constantly found yourself entranced by your work; the potting and repotting of Mandrakes, the drying of nettles, the harvesting of Asphodel root – it was enough to keep you thoroughly occupied as well as a hive of information for the students that line the greenhouse work stations.

However, today you found yourself occupied not by the Aconite plant that also went by Monkshood and Wolfsbane. Instead, you were caught up in a rumour delivered to you this morning by Nearly Headless Nick. The resident ghost of Gryffindor had flitted over to you, already grinning with excitement at the information he had to share. By the time such information had been imparted onto you, your excitement rivalled his.

There was only one person, however, that you wanted to share this rumour with.

Draco Malfoy followed you into teaching a year after you began your position at Hogwarts. He hadn’t wanted the job at the ministry; his name scorned by most witches and wizards. McGonagall had seen something in him and had offered him the position of Potions Master, knowing how comfortable the Malfoy heir would been in the subject.

The friendship with the Slytherin Prince happened over many shared meals; breakfasts, lunches, dinners in the Great Hall in which you always found yourself saving a seat for the blonde in case no-one else at the table did. Draco’s allegiance in the Second Wizarding War was a well-known fact amongst staff and students.

After a while, the two seats became reserved for the both of you. An unofficial seating plan in which you would save a seat for Draco, and he would save one for you if you were running late. It was a friendship you so dearly cherished, and if you happened to have recognised the familiar stirrings of love in you as you glanced at the blonde, then that would be your secret to bare. Draco didn’t need to know how he made your heart race and sent your head into a spin; he didn’t need to know how often he featured in your dreams, waking up with your arm outstretched as if reaching for him in the deep of your sleep.

The man occupied your mind as you left the greenhouses, wandering to the Great hall where you caught sight of the shock of blonde hair amongst the rest of the staff. It’s as if he senses your presence, Draco looks up from his plate of food to meet your gaze. A slow smile spreads across his face as he waves at you, hurrying you over.

“Have you heard?” You smile, remembering your earlier conversation with Nearly Headless Nick, childish excitement written across your face as you reach out to grip Draco’s forearm.

The blonde indulges you with a wide smile of his own. “Have I heard what?”

Your grip on Draco’s arm grows tighter as your excitement peaks. “It’s back at Hogwarts – the Mirror of Erised.”

Shock pulses through his body as Draco tries and fails to keep the alarm from showing on his face. “What? Where did you find that out?”

“Nearly Headless Nick who heard it from Professor Binns who overheard Professors Flitwick and Trelawney discussing the subject matter outside of McGonagall’s office.”

Draco’s grey eyes narrow as he takes in the admittedly weak and confusing chain of gossip. “Are you certain that it is back here?” He asks; curiosity burning through him, but not wanting to risk falsities.

“There’s only one way to find out,” You tease, biting your lip as you peer up at the Potions professor through your lashes. You knew that Draco would be apprehensive about such a magical object, but even he couldn’t resist catching a glimpse into his own soul – his own heart.

Draco groans; repressing the urge to let his head fall into his arms. “Another treasure hunt?”

He didn’t remember the last one too fondly. You had heard whispers of the Necklace of the Lady of the Lake being housed in an offshoot of one of the many tunnels that lay undisturbed underneath Hogwarts. They had remained undisturbed for over a thousand years until you had chosen to find the necklace. You had no interest in wearing it; you couldn’t be bothered about being unfathomably loved, but you had simply wanted to see whether there was any stock in the legend preached by Professor Binns in History of Magic.

Unfortunately, whilst the tunnels did exist, the necklace did not, and it was left to Draco to pick up the pieces of your disappointment as well as heal numerous scratches and welts covering your limbs after an ill-timed fall.

After that, Draco had made you swear that your treasure hunts would remain above ground and somewhat safe.

“Please, Dray,” You plead, shaking the arm which you still hold in your grip. “Help me find the Mirror of Erised.”

“We were warned away from it as students,” Draco argues, desperate for you to see sense so he can protect you from further injury, “Why should we find it now?”

“Because we are no longer students,” You protest, gesturing to your seats at the teacher’s table in the Great Hall where you both currently sit.

“What do I get out of this?” He asks, already feeling his resolve crumbling as he takes in the excitement shining brightly in your eyes.

“You get to spend time with me, of course,” You laugh, anticipation curling in your gut.

“Well, if you’d led with that,” Draco begins, his voice trailing off as he watches your eyes grow wide with the realisation of what he is saying.

“You’ll help?”

“I’ll help,” He nods, unable to keep the smile of out of his voice and off of his face.

“Thank you!” You cry, releasing your hold of Draco’s arm to throw your own around his neck, pulling him in for a tight hug. “I knew I could count on you.”

Draco laughs; his arms coming to wrap around you. “I’ll come to your rooms after dinner, deal?”

“Deal,” You answer, pulling your head out of his neck long enough to reply to him. You stay wrapped up in each other for another moment; enjoying the closeness of the other until you begin to feel the gaze of colleagues and students alike – all curious to whether the two of you had gotten your act together yet.  

-----

Draco knocks on your door an hour after the end of the dinner. The many students at the school had been sent off to bed though many still roamed the halls despite the nearing toll of curfew. Draco had passed many teenagers on his way to your rooms; each either greeting him verbally or offering him a nod as he passed. He wasn’t going to remind them that they needed to head back to their dorms; he was out after hours too, and despite being an adult, he still sometimes felt like the student he was so many years ago.

At this point in this teaching career, Draco had spent countless evenings in your rooms. He could explain the layout like the back of his hand from the personalised tapestry backing the wall behind your bed to the bookshelf in your living room whose shelves are bowing from the weight of the books laid upon it.

He could picture it all in his mind’s eye as he knocks twice more upon the faded, wooden door.

“I wondered when you’d be dropping by,” You greet as you step to one side to let the potions professor enter.

Draco rolls his eyes at the mock impatience in your voice. He toes off his shoes before following you through to the small living area where he spies a mug of his favourite tea waiting for him on the coffee table. He reaches for it as he settles down on the worn couch.

“What’s the plan?”

“Find the mirror, look into it, try to achieve our desires.”

“Very thorough.”

“Piss off, Dray,” You laugh, hitting him with a couch cushion.

“In all serious, do you know where the mirror could be kept?”

“I have three ideas.”

“Enlighten me.”

Holding up your hand, you show Draco three fingers as you count off the locations in your mind. “The Room of Requirement, the Chamber of Secrets, and the place where Harry found the Philosopher’s Stone in our first year, just off the Third Floor corridor.”

“All difficult places to get into,” Draco notes wryly.

“Your point being?”

“You never make this easy for me.”

“I’ll repeat my words from earlier: piss off, Draco.”

“Why do you want to find it so badly?” Draco asks; finally voicing the words that have been sat on the tip of his tongue since dinner.

You shrug, messing with a loose thread on a dark red cushion. “Why not? I’d like to see what I truly desire.”

Understanding that he isn’t going to get a longer answer, Draco changes tact. “Which room do we hit first? What’s the plan?”

He’s rewarded with a smile that lights up your whole face and sets his heart pounding in his chest.

Draco does his best to listen to you; he does his best to pay attention to every word leaving your lips and every gesture of your hands, but he finds it hard when all he can see if the excitement in your eyes and the pure happiness written on you face. If he already didn’t think you beautiful, he would think so now.

As Draco watches you, he finds himself thinking back to the time he first realised his feelings for you. It had been at a quidditch match ��� Ravenclaw vs Hufflepuff. Draco had attended only because you had asked him to; Hufflepuff had been your house when you were student, you were an avid supporter of the team. Parents had been attending this match as well; many of them old enough to remember the first wizarding war, his parents and his side in the second wizarding war. It had awkward until one parent made one too many comments. You had defended him, embarrassing the parent until they had no choice but to leave. When Draco had asked you why you had done such a thing; you had simply reached for his hand, squeezed it and told him that that is what friends do.

Draco had fallen in love with you then and there.

“You weren’t listening to a damn thing I was saying, were you?” You ask, a wry smile curving your lips as you settle back against the many cushions on your couch, pulling Draco from whatever daydream he found himself in.

Draco bites down on his bottom lip to keep the smile from spreading across his face. He shakes his head, “I’m sorry, I got distracted.”

“Thinking about what?”

He blanches; feels all colour leave his face as he’s put on the spot. Draco isn’t ready to confess what he feels for you; he hasn’t quite figured out whether it would ruin the friendship he so dearly cherishes or whether it would create something more between you. Either way, he isn’t ready. Instead, he offers, “I was thinking about the treasure hunt we went on for King Arthur’s sword.”

You groan dramatically, pulling a cushion over your face. “I didn’t know King Arthur’s sword was going to be that sharp!”

Draco snorts, “It’s a sword! What did you think it would be?”

“How many times do I have to apologise?”

“As many times as it takes for the scar to fade,” Draco states, lifting his pant leg to show you the puckered skin of a three inch scar running up the length of his shin. You wince at the sight of it.

“Still,” You whisper, sheepish from Draco’s reminder of the danger these hunts pose, “Will you help me?”

Draco sighs, settling once more against the many cushions on your couch. He takes a sip of his tea, pretending to mull over his decision. He knew he would help; he would follow you to the ends of the earth, but he wouldn’t be a very good friend if he didn’t make you stew over it. Ultimately, Draco smiles, turning to you, he asks, “Where do we begin?”

------

The Third Floor corridor is searched later that same week; the two of you coming up empty handed as you stride through the various tasks completed by Harry Potter in his first year of schooling at Hogwarts. You cannot stop the disappointment from flooding your veins when you come up empty handed; no sign of the Mirror of Erised when you reach the end of the path.

“We’ll find it,” Draco promises, an arm wrapping around your waist in comfort, “We’ll try the Chamber of Secrets next, see what that brings up.”

The Chamber of Secrets also has you both coming up empty handed. Draco had paused momentarily as you opened both doors to the chamber; shocked at your use of parsel tongue.

However, both of you felt the keener sting of bitter disappointment when all that is left of the Chamber of Secrets is a Basilisk skeleton. Fascinating though it may be, the chamber doesn’t hold what you seek so you leave the place, hoping never to return.

------

The Room of Requirement can be located on the seventh floor corridor; its entrance appears across from a tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy, but it only ever makes itself known to those who need it. On your list of locations for the Mirror of Erised, the Room of Requirement was your last option.

“What if it isn’t here?” You worry, standing next to Draco at the supposed entrance of the room.

“The mirror or the room of requirement?”

“Both,” You cry, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Hey,” Draco hushes, touching a finger to your chin briefly. “It will be. I’ve entered the room of requirement plenty of times.”

“Did you ever see the mirror?”

Draco shakes his head. “I didn’t, but I wasn’t searching for it then. I am now. Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” You reply, steeling yourself with a deep breath.

Draco takes your hand in his; tangling your fingers together for extra security as you begin the walk past the rumoured entrance. Three times you both walk past, thinking only of the Mirror of Erised and not of the way Draco’s hand feels in yours.

The grinding of stone is what makes the both of you pause. Draco squeezes your hand in hope as you turn to see the appearance of an ornate, dark wooden door. A glance at the blonde has further hope blooming in your chest when you spy a glimmer of familiarity in the eyes of the Slytherin Prince.

Taking the lead, Draco guides you through the door.

The room can only be described as cavernous; stone columns hold up the large room, all circling the Mirror of Erised which sits in the centre of the room, only accessed by walking down stone steps.

Excitement settles deep within your gut as you reach out for Draco’s hand only to find that he’s reached for you first. Turning to the blonde, you find triumph and happiness written across his face. “We’ve found it,” He whispers, not wanting to speak louder in case he disturbs the peace of the mirror.

“We have,” You reply just as quietly.

In sync, you both look out towards the mirror. It stands impressively in the centre of the room; its stature demanding any and all attention. It’s hard to look away with the knowledge that it could show you what you truly desire.

“Who looks first?” You ask, keeping a tight grip on Draco’s hand.

“I’m not sure,” Draco states, wanting just as much to look into the mirror now that he’s standing in front of it. He can feel its pull; he’s desperate to answer its call.

“Rock, paper, scissors?” You suggest, offering the childish game as solution to your problems.

“Alright,” Draco replies, letting go of your hand to offer it up as a fist. “Ready when you are.”

“Rock, paper, scissors,” You both chime, voices echoing off the stone walls. Draco laughs as loud as he dares when you lose for a second time in a row; he tries to offer you another go but it is clear you’ve lost this round.

“Just go stare into the glass, you arse,” You huff, shoving at his shoulder. Draco blows you a kiss as he steps down into the pit where the mirror awaits.

“Well,” You hiss, keeping your voice low in case Filch happens to walk by, “What do you see?”

Draco stands before the grand Mirror of Erised. He had heard of its prowess; Harry had preached so often about it that its legend only grew in Draco’s mind. He had never thought for one second that he would be standing in front of it, watching the ancient glass swirl and whirl as his deepest desires are reflected for him.

“Draco?” You call, voice louder, breaking the blonde from his pre-occupation with the mirror. He turns to you, eyes beginning to focus on the room around you. “Hmm?” He asks, “What did you say?”

“What did you see?” You ask, hands settling on your hips as you fix the man in front of you with an unimpressed but desperately curious stare.

Draco glances back to the mirror; his right hand twitches by his side, needing to know that if he reached out towards the immemorial glass, he could step right through and live his true desires.

He must stare at the mirror too long for he feels your hand slip into his; he feels your fingers tangle with his and tug once, pulling him from his yearnings with an ever-growing sense of urgency. “Draco,” Your voice calls though it sounds muffled as the grey swirls of fog in the mirror begin to take shape once more. “Draco,” You call again, “Come back to me.”

The words are muffled, but the pleading note to your voice cuts through the fog surrounding him. Draco comes back to the present with a start; his whole body jolting as he registers the feel of your hand in his, the weight of your fingers tangled with his.

“Where did you go just now?” You ask, concern tightening your voice, making it hard to speak.

Draco blinks once, twice, three times before whispering, “The mirror is very powerful. You can see why witches and wizards have wasted away in front of it, their desires played out for them as if on a stage.”

“Are you okay?” You ask, bringing a hand to Draco’s cheek, registering his drop in temperature. “You’re freezing cold.”

“I feel fine,” The man murmurs, sounding very far away as his grey eyes glaze over once again.

“This was a mistake,” You spit, hating yourself for dragging him along every step of the way.

“No,” Draco states firmly, “Not a mistake at all.”

“Draco, you’re freezing cold and you’re barely present enough to have a full conversation with me. You’re not okay.” You shake your head in frustration, “We’re going back to my rooms. With any luck, we won’t come across the mirror again.”

Draco goes to argue; he goes to scream and shout, but he takes a look at the stricken expression on your face and chooses to close his mouth. It’s a look he hasn’t seen in years; a look he hasn’t seen since you took in the sight of the destroyed courtyard after the Battle of Hogwarts, registering the dead bodies lined up at the side, knowing there was nothing you could do to help them. It was a look Draco had hoped he would never see again, but as the look ages your features, any argument Draco wants to pose dies on the tip of his tongue, the bitterness seeping its way to back of his throat. Instead, he holds on tightly to your hand and lets himself be led back to your rooms where warm blankets and hot tea awaits.

--------

Having barely slept after your first encounter with the mirror, you closely resemble a ghost as you take a seat at the teacher’s table for breakfast the following morning. Draco’s seat next to you is empty as you pour yourself a hot pot of tea, needing the warmth to replace what you lost in that awful room last night.

As you reach for a piece of toast and the pot of raspberry jam, you wonder whether Draco felt well enough to come down for breakfast. It had taken numerous mugs of tea to bring his temperature back up to what it was, and he remained infuriatingly tight lipped over what he had seen in the mirror despite your deluge of questions.

You only look up from your food when you catch sight of Draco out of the corner of your eye. He settles in the chair next to you, looking as if he had barely slept a wink either. He had left your rooms looking close to a corpse, the tiniest hint of colour in his cheeks. Your concern for him had interrupted your own sleep; tossing and turning all night to try and stop yourself from kicking down his door.

“How are you?” You whisper, not wanting anyone to overhear this conversation.

“Better,” He answers after a brief sip of his hot drink. “Thank you for last night.”

“Always, Draco.”

“I want to go back,” Draco announces over his breakfast, “I need to go back.”

“Why?” You ask, aghast at his decision.

“I need to be certain of what I saw.”

“And you can’t be certain without having to go back to the mirror?”

“Look,” Draco sighs, resting his teacup back onto its saucer, “I’m going back to the Mirror of Erised. Now, you can come with me and find out what I saw the first time which I know has been killing you to find out about. Or you can stay here and worry about me and not find out what I saw. What will it be?”

You purse your lips, keeping any and all barbed retorts behind your locked lips. Draco had you in a bind and he full well knew it. Eventually, after much deliberation, you roll your eyes at the blonde. “Fine,” You huff, “I’ll come with you. When are you going?”

“Tonight. I’ll come to you after curfew.”

------

The excitement upon finding the cavernous room the first time had quickly faded upon your entering the second time. You remain two steps behind Draco, watching him intently from the back as he takes a deep breath, stepping further into the room.

The Mirror of Erised remains unmoved in the centre of the room; the stone steps leading to the ancient, powerful object have a slight sheen of frost over them. Draco pays the frost no mind as he steps down to the mirror; the heels of his oxford reverberating loudly off the stone walls of the room. You wince slightly; safe in the knowledge that Filch wouldn’t be passing this room tonight, but still not wanting to take any chances.

Had the Mirror always been this foreboding? You ask yourself as you watch the man you’ve slowly fallen in love with get closer and closer to the archaic magic trapped inside the glass.

Draco pauses long enough to flash you a smile that you suppose is meant to relieve you of some of the stress and worry you feel, but it does nothing to calm your nerves as Draco steels himself to stare into the mirror again.

You remain close by as Draco watches the fog; you watch out for any signs of Draco losing himself like he did last time. As he had said previously, the mirror had turned scores of witches and wizards into bumbling fool, obsessed with watching their desires play out in front of them but refusing to act upon them. You couldn’t help but harbour some hatred for the mirror as you watched Draco fall under the mirror’s spell once more.

It takes only a moment for it all to become too much. Taking a tentative step forward, you call out his name only to receive no reply. Worrying your bottom lip, you call his name louder.

Draco’s right hand twitches as he pulls himself from the mirror. “You called,” He smiles, a poor attempt at humour.

You glare at the blonde; your heart pounding as Draco walks back to where you wait. “How do you feel?”

“Fine,” He answers, “Nothing like last time.”

“What did you see?”

“Us,” Draco answers; the single word tumbling from his lips as a smile begins to grace his face.

“Us?” You repeat, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“I love you,” Draco states honestly, plainly as if the very fact had been common knowledge for a long time. “I love you,” He repeats, arms slipping around your waist to hold you near.

“You love me?” You squeak, unable to comprehend such words after an evening as eventful as this one.

He nods; his nose brushing yours as his lips barely graze over your mouth. “I love you,” He repeats almost breathlessly as the need to kiss you tries to overtake his body.

“I love you too,” You murmur quietly, letting yourself fall further for the man holding you so tenderly.

Draco’s only answer to that is to kiss you.

*****

Harry Potter Taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @figlia--della--luna @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @awritingtree @haphazardhufflepuff @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @dreaming-about-fanfictions @lestersglitterglue @msmimimerton @obx-beach @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @bbeauttyybbx @breadqueen95 @oopskashish @slytherinsunrise @remmyswritings @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @ria-rests-here @superbturtlemakerathlete @inglourious-imagines @ithilwen-lionheart @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @ilovejjmaybank @theweasleysredhair @theonly1outof-a-billion @phuvioqhile @moatsnow @storyisnotover @himooonlight @potters-heart @amourtentiaa @joyfullymulti @pandaxnienke @mesmerisedangel @angelxnaa @iamninaanna

Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @obxmxybxnk @obx-beach @sycathorn-slush @dracomalfoyswifey @justmesadgirl​ @detroitobsessed​ @aspiringsloth20​ @just-a-belgian-girl​ @lahoete​ @minty-malfoy​ @fallinallinmendes​ @ravenclawbitch426​ @ochrythum​ @beiahadid​ @gryffindors-weasley​ @dracosathenaeum​ @belladaises​

Specific fic taglist: @regulusarcturusblack2008 @randomlimelightxxx​ @ranhanabi777​ @yegreatdragontamingpiratecaptain 

[badassbuchanan]

No Goodbye Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: angst, cringe, mentions of grieving, soft!bucky

Word Count: 7474

A/N: I’m sorry for the poor quality of this, pls don't hate me

“Bucky, you know I have to do this.” Steve pressed his lips together as he looked sympathetically over at Bucky. His decision wasn’t an easy one, and his best friend trying to change his mind was only making it harder. “I’m leaving her with my best pal.”

Steve grabbed Bucky’s shoulder reassuringly, witnessing the distress on his face, what Steve was asking him to do was huge. “It’s gunna be okay, Buck.”

Bucky sighed, trusting that Steve knew what was best as he wrapped his arms around his friend to say goodbye. “No matter what happens, she can never find out the truth, Buck.”

Bucky woke himself from the memory, the small strips of sunlight bleeding through the blind, the feminine smell of the sheets reminding him he wasn’t in his own bed. He quickly pushed his body to sit up, leaning on his metal hand that had pressed into the mattress, his heart racing as he scanned the room.

He sighed sadly as the overwhelming reminder of keeping a secret from the girl who had given herself to him last night took over. The world seemed a little brighter, but his thoughts stopped him from enjoying what should’ve been a peaceful morning.

His heart sunk as he ran his flesh hand through his unkept hair, seeing no sign of the girl he’d fallen asleep holding. There was a cold space where her body should’ve been, his eyes squeezing shut as his mind whirled with emotion.

Had she left him? Had she regretted what happened between them? Had she been too embarrassed to face him? Had she gone off telling the team that he was crap in bed? Bucky knew he hadn’t lasted as long as usually did last night, but it had been decades since he was last with a girl. Decades worth of sexual frustration. And Y/N had felt so warm and tight-

“Hey sleepyhead.” A soft voice came from the ensuite doorway, knocking him out of his thoughts as his head whipped around to see Y/N.

She was glowing. Her hair was tied back in a high pony tail, her body covered in a figure hugging training suit. Bucky’s heart pounded against his chest as he breathlessly watched her make her way over to him, all of his thoughts melting away at the sight of her.

He sat up a little straighter, his mouth subtly hanging open as he became enchanted, admiring her natural beauty. “Did you sleep okay?” She asked softly, her genuine concern evident as she stood beside him. She’d felt him jolt softly in his sleep, a small frown on his face and a pout on his lips, she knew he was dreaming. She wanted to wake him while it was happening, to make sure he was okay, but instead she’d soothed him by tracing soft patterns on his chest, knowing there was no chance of him pushing her away while he slept.

“Best sleep I’ve ever had.” He breathed out shakily, his eyes soft with adoration as he watched her play with her hands nervously. He wanted to reach out and pull her down, to hold her close and never let her go. But Bucky was sensitive to her thoughts and feelings after what they’d done last night, the guilt of knowing he had a secret only making him more nervous.

She smiled bashfully at his comment, keeping her eyes away from his as she traced her fingers lightly over his thigh which was covered by the duvet. Y/N wanted to wrap her arms around Bucky and stay in bed with him all day. But she too was cautious to discover where his head was at after their night together. He seemed to be treating her like glass, she could tell he was holding back from her and she was anxious to know why.

“Why are you up so early?” Bucky tried to distract his mind from his thoughts, unable to help the shy smile from curling up on his lips as he sweetly tilted his head. His flesh hand sneakily slid across his duvet covered thighs until it came into light contact with her fingers, testing her reaction to his touch.

“Training.” She breathed out softly, still smiling as she looked up into his eyes. Her heart skipped a beat as she took in the shirtless sight of the super soldier in her bed. “Are you planning on keeping my bed warm all day?” She joked lightly, her voice soft as she tried to distract herself from his gorgeous body.

“Figured I’d wait here until you got back.” He smiled dopily, making her giggle softly as he stretched his body forward, relaxing when he saw no sense of offput on her face. He snaked his arms around her waist, sitting back against the headboard as he tugged her into his lap. “Unless you wanna keep me company.”

She squealed as he pulled her down, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he watched her get comfortable, sitting sideways on his lap. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, her hand playing with the back of his hair as she relaxed into his touch. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat, the intimacy of the moment far too sentimental to be ruined by his thoughts.

Y/N longed to lean in and kiss his soft lips, already craving more after their night together. But there was still a slight reservation in her mind, she knew it would be foolish to jump head first into this without knowing how he felt, even when her heart was so desperately encouraging her to do so.

“Bucky.” She let out in a little whine as her head rested against his bare chest, feeling like there was so much she needed to say to him, but unsure as to where to start.

Bucky’s hand rubbed up and and down her back soothingly, his chin resting on top of her head as he closed his eyes with a sigh. “I know, doll.” He tried to reassure her that he knew she had a lot on her mind. And that they had a lot to discuss. He didn’t expect anything from her, he’d waited long enough to hold her like this, and he’d wait as long as it took. It also gave him time to figure out if he was going to tell her the truth or carry on living a lie.

A sudden knock on the door caught their attention. “Y/N.” Wanda’s voice called from the other side, causing Y/N to jump off of Bucky’s lap with urgency.

“Crap.” She whispered in a panic, turning around to face Bucky who was still sitting on the bed. Her eyes widened as she realised his clothes were thrown carelessly all over the room. It was no secret the super soldier spent almost every night in Y/N’s bed, the team knew that. But they didn’t need to know how far they’d taken their relationship last night.

“Coming!” Y/N walked quickly over to her door, tightening her pony tail as she went. She opened the door just enough to slip out of the room and greet Wanda, assuring the door shut properly behind her.

“So I see you and Barnes made up?” The red head chuckled in amusement, not even needing her mind reading powers to know what was going on with her friend.

Y/N huffed out as she smiled, her back staying protectively against her bedroom door. She stared back as the Scarlett Witch studied her face, her eyes twitching into a glare.

“You know I can read minds, right?” Wanda’s eyebrow raised as she crossed her arms, looking at the guilty looking girl in front of her.

“Get out of my head, Wanda!” Y/N’s eyes widened as a pink blush covered her cheeks, unable to stop thinking about how safe she’d felt with the super soldier’s body rocking against hers.

“Honey, I didn't need magic to hear the noises that were coming out of your room last night.” She smiled smugly, watching Y/N’s face drop in panic. Y/N felt her heart rate increase as embarrassment of the whole team knowing what she and Bucky had been up to washed over her body. Her mouth dropped open in shock, speechlessly standing there as her body temperature raised in humiliation.

“Relax, I was kidding.” Wanda added with a cheeky smile, her eyes lighting up as she realised her instincts had proved her well. Y/N shot her friend a glare, a little whine of shyness left her lips as Wanda’s head leaned back in laughter.

She watched the embarrassed girl silently walk away from her down the hallway, following close behind, excited to get to the training room so she could probe Y/N about her self-admitted night with Bucky.

——

Bucky decided to make his way back to his own room a little while later, coming to the conclusion that he needed to take a shower if he wanted to look his best for when Y/N finished up training. His stomach was still fluttering with butterflies as memories of the night before flooded through his mind.

He thought about Y/N as he showered, how she held him, the way her hair smelled, the little whimpers that left her lips, the way her eyes lit up the room. He smiled to himself as he thought about how she’d grown to trust him, before that gut wrenching guilt returned again. She’d grown to trust him, and he’d been betraying her the whole time.

He ruffled his hair against his towel as he walked back into his room, grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Bucky threw the towel carelessly onto the floor, running his flesh hand through his towel dried hair.

He caught his reflection in the mirror, a soft smile flicking over his lips as he noticed the marks left on his body from the way she’d clung to him so tightly. He grabbed a clean t-shirt from the folded pile of laundry on his table, the one he hadn't gotten around to putting away.

Bucky did what he usually did in the mornings, find his way into the kitchen for breakfast. But he couldn’t even walk down the hallway of the compound without his heart sinking at the voice in his head, screaming that he was a liar.

“What up, cyborg?” Sam’s voice called out as he noticed Bucky entering the kitchen. He lifted his mug up to his lips, sipping the freshly made green tea as he analysed his friend’s more anxious than usual aura.

“Hey.” Bucky replied, his face straight, but not enough of a frown to give Sam confirmation that something was bothering him. He paid no attention to Sam as he grabbed a box of cereal from the cupboard, still lost in his thoughts about Y/N.

Sam’s eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what could’ve been the cause of the super soldier’s mood, scanning up and down his body as he prepared his breakfast. His eyes widened, dropping his gaze with a shocked smile as he noticed the reddened marks on Bucky’s neck and arm. “Sleep well, Sergeant?” He smirked, lifting his mug back to his lips.

“Like a baby.” Bucky mumbled dryly, his eyes fixed on watching the cereal pour into his bowl, his mind contemplating every possible outcome of telling Y/N the truth. He heard Sam chuckle, catching his attention as he walked over to grab the milk from the fridge. “Something funny, pigeon?”

“You just seem a little more relaxed today.” Sam spoke sarcastically, his signature smirk covering his face as he pressed his metal armed partner. “Looks good on you.” He continued, amusing himself as he spoke before he could stop himself. “Almost as good as those marks.”

“Shut it, bird brain.” Bucky’s head shot round to give Sam a threatening look as he slammed the fridge door shut, realising why his co-worker looked even more smug than usual.

Sam lifted his hands up in surrender after placing his mug on the kitchen worktop. “Hey, come on now.” He chuckled softly, having worked with Bucky enough to know when he’d pushed him too far. “I’m happy for you, bro. For real. You guys are great together.”

“Let’s just hope Y/N thinks so, too.” Bucky sighed softly, leaning his palms against the edge of the worktop as he tilted his head towards Sam. Bucky knew that Sam would never completely understand the weight of his words, the only person who knew as much as Bucky was Steve.

“Seriously?” Sam asked with a tone of shock, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to comprehend whether the metal armed soldier was trying to make a joke for the first time in his life. He knew Bucky was serious when he only raised his eyebrows as a response. “Are you blind, old man? That girl is devoted to you.”

Bucky sighed, knowing Sam was right, Y/N was devoted to him, she completely trusted him. He stood up straight as both boys crossed their arms against their chests. His head dropped as he tried to ignore the nagging voice in his head, he wanted to honour Steve’s last words to him, but falling for Y/N was making it increasingly difficult to stick to the promise he’d made his best friend.

“Have you told her the truth?” Sam asked, causing Bucky’s heart to sink at the other man’s words. The truth. “No matter what happens, she can never find out the truth, Buck.” The words unlocked the memory of Steve’s voice, echoing through Bucky’s mind, his eyes squeezing shut as he shook the memory away.

“What?” His head snapped towards Sam at his question, a deep crease appearing in the middle of Bucky’s forehead. His heart sunk as he once again was reminded of the secret he’d been carrying around since Steve left, the secret that he’d been keeping from Y/N.

“About how you feel,” Sam frowned in confusion at Bucky’s sudden snappiness, tilting his head slightly as he cautiously observed his friend. “Have you told Y/N how you feel?”

It didn’t ease Bucky at all to know that Sam wasn’t talking about the truth he was hiding from her. His heartbeat quickened as his nerves increased, how was he supposed to tell Y/N how he felt? How was he supposed to keep this secret from her knowing that she’d completely given him all of her trust.

A wave of guilt washed over Bucky as he pushed his bowl away from him, suddenly losing his appetite as he ran his hand through his hair stressfully. Steve had told Bucky that Y/N could never know the truth, but he’d never expected to grow this close to her, to have to lie to her every single day. Bucky couldn’t lose her, not now, she was his muse, his reason for existing.

His head started to spin as his body filled with anxiety. If he betrayed Steve and told Y/N the truth, she’d know he’d been keeping it from her, lying to her all this time. All the trust she’d slowly given him would be washed away in an instant. But could Bucky really live with himself, continuously earning more and more of her trust, knowing that he was hiding the truth from her?

“No,” Bucky breathed shakily, pressing his lips together as the battle continued on inside his mind. His eyes flickered back and forth nervously as he meditated on his thoughts, his mind completely clouded from anything else. “I haven’t told her.”

——

“So,” Wanda dragged out the word as she held up the punching pads for Y/N, who was stretching out her arms after the first round they’d just finished. “You and Bucky, huh?”

“What about me and Bucky?” Y/N asked dismissively, throwing a few practice punches at the pads in Wanda’s hands.

“Look it might’ve been a lucky guess earlier, but you don’t usually blush like that Y/N. Something must’ve happened between the two of you.” Wanda raised her eyebrows accusingly, curious to see how Y/N was feeling after her night with Bucky.

“Yeah,” Y/N breathed out as she dropped her hands in defeat, she knew it was useless lying to Wanda, she could literally read minds. “I guess something did happen.”

“And?” Wanda asked curiously as she tilted her head, tensing her arms as Y/N started throwing punches at the pads again.

“And, now I don’t know.” Y/N sighed in defeat, dropping her hands helplessly again as she lost focus of the training. “I care about him so much, Wanda. He’s been there for me every step of the way, he’s been so patient, and gentle. He’s my rock. But he’s never told me he feels for me as more than a friend.” She shrugged as her head dropped to her feet.

“Have you told him how you feel?” Wanda asked softly, aware of the sensitivity of the situation. She tilted her head as she watched Y/N lift her gaze, realising what Wanda was hinting at.

“No, but I think it’s pretty obvious.” She mumbled with a pout, dropping her head again as she tried to hide her smile.

“Well did you ever think, that just maybe, Bucky thinks he doesn’t need to tell you how he feels because his feelings are pretty obvious too?” Wanda spoke with a teasing tone, her eyebrows raising as she smiled amusingly at Y/N who was rolling her eyes with a chuckle. She knew Wanda was right, maybe she’d jumped to conclusions a little too soon. Or maybe she was scared of Bucky not reciprocating her feelings and losing him for good.

“Alright, good point Maximoff.” Y/N faked a glare at the red head as she pressed her glove covered hands on her hips. “I’ll confess my feelings to Buchanan later, but right now, it’s pads up.” She chuckled with a raise of her brow, throwing a hard punch as Wanda lifted the pads back up.

——

Y/N’s heart pounded in the cavity of her chest as she reached Bucky’s bedroom door. She’d finished training, had a shower and made sure she sprayed the perfume he always complimented. She sighed deeply, her nerves causing her hands to fiddle with the hem of her t-shirt nervously. This was it, she was really about to lay it all on the line, risk losing the person she was closest to in order to admit how she felt.

“Bucky?” Y/N’s voice dropped to a whisper as she opened the door to his room, her heart aching at the sight in front of her. He was sitting on the floor, his back leaning against his bed as his tear stained eyes stared up at the ceiling.

Bucky sniffed deeply as he tried to cover up his sadness, his glassy eyes catching hers as his head dropped forward to face her. His lips pressed together in a hard line, seeing her innocently standing in front of him only making his chest tighten as he started sobbing again.

“Hey, it’s okay.” She let out in a shaky voice as she rushed over to his side, wrapping her arms around him as she pulled his head against her chest. Only when he was pulled against her body did she notice the black and white photograph in his hand, a picture of him and Steve back in their prime. “You’re okay.”

Bucky’s heart broke as he felt her trying to soothe him, innocent to how much he’d been betraying her all along. His chest heaved as dread flooded through his body, knowing that he’d have to watch the pain in her eyes as he told her the truth. He couldn’t keep lying to her. He’d come to terms with what he’d done, willing to face the consequences in order to give her the truth she deserved.

“It’s gunna be okay, Buck.” She whispered sweetly as she placed a gentle kiss on the top of his head. She didn’t know why he was so upset, she didn’t need to know, all she wanted was to make him feel safe, the same way he did to her.

“Y/N,” He breathed out shakily as he lifted his head, his hands holding her waist as he tried to speak through his tears. His blue eyes caught hers, sadness on both of their faces as they felt each other’s pain. “I’m so sorry.”

Y/N’s eyes welled up with tears as her throat sunk into her stomach, an alarming fear coursing through her body as she listened to him speak. “Is this about last night?” She whispered sadly as her head dropped, worried that he regretted what had happened between them. That had to be it, what else could it be? “Look, we can just forget it ever-“

“Doll, no.” Bucky cut her off with a shake of his head, his eyes softening as he cupped her cheek in his hand, lifting his body to come face to face with her, dropping the photo he’d previously been holding in the process. “I promise, it’s not about last night.” He reassured her as his thumb rubbed soothingly over her tear stained skin.

She sighed as she waited for an elaboration from him, her head filled with worst case scenarios as he clenched his jaw. Bucky swallowed nervously, a sharp pain in his chest as the room filled with silence. He was battling internally, his words catching in his throat, trying to spit them out was even harder than he’d imagined.

“You’re scaring me, Bucky.” She admitted sadly, pulling her hands away from him as her head turned away from his hand. Her eyes closed as she tried to contain her tears, a flame of abandonment still in her tummy from when Steve left. Was Bucky about to do the same? Even after his promises.

He couldn’t object to her rejecting his touch, biting the inside of his lip as the war continued inside his mind. Steve was gone, he’d never know that he told Y/N the truth. But here she was, her heart breaking in front of him as she pushed him away, something he never wanted to happen. Something that might happen if she knew the truth.

Bucky’s heart stopped when he heard her sob, the noise she let out full of pain as her hands came up to cover her face. She’d been through so much heartache, her body tired and weak from all the emotion. Now, she dreaded the thought of having to go through it all again. “Just say it.” She squeaked out, his silence only prolonging the inevitable.

Bucky flinched at her words, his eyes squeezing shut tightly as he tried to wake up from the nightmare. His head spun as his mind filled with the sounds of her sobbing, his chest heaving with anxiety. He didn’t know how she was going to react, he didn’t want to lose her. What if she blamed him for everything? What if she walked out of his life for good?

Y/N’s eyes stung as her cheeks reddened with tears, wishing he’d just put her out of her misery. Was he leaving her? Had she been too needy? Did he regret what happened between them last night? Had he done it all out of sympathy? Just to make her crying stop. Had he found someone else? Had he been faking it all along? Was he sick of her sadness? Was he going to push her away? Did he not want her around anymore?

“God, Bucky, just say it.” She cried weakly, pulling her head from her hands as she looked over at him. His head hung in shame as he shook his head, he wasn’t ready to lose her. That was the only possible outcome once she knew the truth, once she knew what he’d been keeping from her this whole time. “Please.” She bit down on her bottom lip as it trembled, wanting the closure of a goodbye that she never got with Steve.

Bucky’s chest caved in as he heard her beg, swallowing the lump in his throat as he felt time stop, as if the universe stood still as the words left his lips. “Steve didn’t leave you to be with Peggy, Y/N.”

Y/N felt a flood of pain rush through her veins as she heard him mentioned Steve. She sighed as the air got caught in her throat, closing her watery eyes as she shook her head. His words were the last thing she’d ever expected to hear.

Bucky sniffed, his eyes red from crying as he tried to reach for her hand, looking over at her heartbroken face. Y/N slid her hand away from his hesitantly, certain that there was more he had to say.

“Why am I only finding out about this now?” She frowned in an attempt to stop the tears as her eyes saddened, feeling vulnerable and betrayed by the one person she’d learned to trust. Did he purposely wait until she finally felt a slither of happiness before he broke her heart? Was he doing it for his own satisfaction? Had he been mocking her this whole time, knowing that she hadn’t known the truth?

“I thought I was protecting you, Steve made me promise not to ever let you find out. But I can’t lie to you anymore Y/N, it’s killing me inside. I can’t live with myself knowing that I’m keeping this secret from the girl I love.” His voice broke as the words came out of his mouth without hesitation, finally admitting how he really felt about her. Bucky watched her face flinch with pain as her mind flooded with emotion, millions of thoughts whizzing through her head as she tried to comprehend his words.

“Then tell me the truth, Buck.” Y/N’s chest tightened as she felt all the emotion of losing Steve washing over her like a wave. The anxiety of abandonment, the loneliness, the heartache, it all clouded her mind enough for her to ignore Bucky’s confession. Her bottom lip trembled as she hugged her knee to her chest, tears dripping down onto the floor as she tried to make the pain subside.

“Steve left because it was the only way to keep you safe.” Bucky breathed out shakily, his own eyes pooling with tears as he watched Y/N helplessly break down beside him. He knew she wouldn’t understand, she was never meant to understand, she was never meant to know. He sighed sadly, there was no going back now, he’d have to tell her everything. “Y/N, I need you to look at me.”

His heart sunk as she helplessly did as he instructed, fighting through her pain to get to the truth, still so many questions left unanswered. Her jaw clenched tightly as her heart raced, coming to her senses enough to know that Bucky wouldn’t lie to her about something like this.

“Stay with me.” He whispered softly, trying to get her to focus on him as silent tears rolled down his cheeks, his gut full of dread. Her lips pressed into a pout as she fearfully looked up at him, looking like a helpless animal caught in a trap.

Her eyes fixed onto his deep blue ones, her heart beginning to steady itself as she listened to his voice, even in her worst moments, Bucky somehow managed to calm her. She felt his flesh hand slide into hers, not pulling away this time as she watched him blink nervously.

“I need you to tell me your earliest memory.” Bucky instructed as his eyebrows arched in sympathy, terrified of the outcome to the situation he was now responsible for. He knew exactly why Steve had told him not to tell her, and if he were still here, he’d kick his ass for letting her find out. But Steve wasn’t here. And Bucky knew she’d never forgive him if he didn’t tell her now. “Think, Y/N.”

Y/N wracked her brain hard, her eyebrows furrowing into a frown as she flickered between Bucky’s eyes. He saw the horror flash in her eyes as she let out a soft whimper, her mouth slightly parted as she shook her head. His heart sunk, knowing he’d just triggered an alarm in her brain that would cause her a dangerous level of trauma and stress.

“It- It’s me and you. In Wakanda.” Her eyes welled with tears, her body flooding with fear as she continued to glance between each of his eyes rapidly. “The day I met Steve - he came to check up on you after your surgery-” Y/N suddenly went into panic, her body shutting down as she gripped onto his hand tightly, shaking her head in disbelief as she closed her eyes. “Bucky I’m scared.” She sobbed desperately, her body trembling as her brain tried to comprehend it all.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” He soothed her softly, quickly scrambling closer, using his metal arm to catch her body. He pulled her against his chest, his eyes squeezing shut as his heart pounded against his chest, terrified of her reaction. “How did you get to Wakanda, Y/N?” He whispered with trepidation, his thumb rubbing over the back of her hand as her head collapsed against his chest.

“I don’t know,” She sobbed desperately, letting her free hand cling to the material of his t-shirt as her head began to ache, burning up from how hard she was thinking. “I can’t remember anything before that day.” She choked slightly as her breathing became erratic, realising that all she’d ever known was this. How could that be her earliest memory, as if her life only started a few years ago, it was impossible. But where were her memories? “Bucky, why can’t I remember?”

His jaw clenched tightly, hating that he had to be the one to tell her, to put her through the pain of the truth that Steve had fought to protect her from. He sniffed softly, his chin resting on the top of her head as he held her close, trying to comfort her as much as he could. “We were broken when Steve found us, Y/N.” He stopped hesitantly, there was no easy way to say any of this. He took a deep breath, feeling her body jolting as she cried softly against his chest. “We were Hydra’s most lethal killing machines. Their most successful experiments.”

Bucky felt her head shaking in denial against him, her sobs becoming louder as she tried to make sense of what he was telling her. Her chest heaved as she breathed through her uncontrollable crying, gripping tightly to the soldier who’s tears were rolling down his cheeks.

“I had the metal arm, but I guess they’d improved since the 40’s. Maybe they realised giving their assassins a metal arm wasn’t very inconspicuous.” He breathed out shakily, her head moving with the heavy movements of his chest as he pulled her tighter against him, as if it would ease her pain. “Your body was left untouched. Not a single trace of experimentation, apart from a tiny little microchip they planted in your brain.”

“No.” Y/N breathed out as her body went into panic, her tears drenching through Bucky’s t-shirt as she felt her body growing weak.

“But they fixed us in Wakanda.” He whispered softly in hope it would make her feel better somehow. He lifted his hand to the back of her head, cradling it in his hand as he rubbed his thumb along her skull in an attempt to soothe her. “They didn’t have to remove your chip like they did my arm, Shuri had her team wipe the software that Hydra had programmed onto it. They rewrote the code so that Hydra wouldn’t be able to gain control of you.”

Y/N’s sobs continued as she listened to Bucky, her eyes squeezing shut as she learnt about her broken past.“Part of the process to re-write the code meant wiping any memory that may have triggered Hydra’s manipulation. We didn’t know much about you, where you came from, how long you’d been under Hydra’s control. So the most viable course of action was to wipe everything, it was the best chance they had of knowing you’d be safe.”

A dull ache wash over Y/N’s body, feeling violated and betrayed. Her head burned as she tried to come to terms with never knowing who she really was, a billion questions and thoughts racing through her mind. She was physically and mentally tired, too tired to process all of this, little whimpers leaving her lips as she listened to him.

“Your earliest memory of Steve coming to visit me, he was there to visit both of us, Y/N. You two met like it was the first time, and for you, it was. But you’d actually kicked his ass once before when he first found us.” Bucky let out a slight chuckle through his sobs at the memory of his best friend. It felt like a lifetime ago he watched her take out Cap’s legs and grab him in a choke hold. Nothing beat the look on Steve’s face when he realised just how powerful she was. “You not recognising Steve was when they knew for sure that the procedure had been a success.”

Bucky rubbed his thumb over her temple, feeling her trembling against him as she became overwhelmed with the realisation. Her whole world had crumbled around her, she sat there with Bucky in the rubble of her life, wondering if it was even worth trying to pick up the pieces. “You didn’t remember me either, or anything about us. It hurt to know you’d never remember all the memories we shared, all the things we did together. We were quite the team. But at least I knew we were safe and that was the most important thing.” He thought back to before Wakanda, all the missions they’d been on together, all the good times they’d shared, even then, it had always been just the two of them. All they had was each other. “You and Steve fell in love the day he came to bring us back from Wakanda, but I think the punk had a crush on you from back when you were kicking his ass in the street.” He chuckled to himself, hoping his words were calming her as much as they were himself.

But he was wrong. They weren’t. Her thoughts continued to churn through her mind, the little pieces of past making her head ache as she tried to put them together. She clung tightly to Bucky’s chest, digging her nails into his flesh as she pressed her head against him. “If I was fixed, why did he have to keep me safe?” She whispered shakily, her reddened eyes stinging from the saltiness of her tears. “Why did he have to leave?”

Bucky’s face dropped in agony, the reason behind Steve leaving now the only secret he was hiding from her, well, almost the only secret. It wasn’t as simple as telling her about her unknown past, he had to try and justify Steve’s decision to the person who loved him the most, who’s whole life had revolved around Steve. “These people, worse than Hydra found out about us, they kept threatening Steve, tormenting him about how they were going to take you away from him, turn you back into a kille- an assassin.” Bucky stopped himself after thinking about his words, having been through the troubling process of coming to terms with his past himself. “He’d just gone through losing Tony and Nat, his mind was a mess. He couldn’t bare the thought of losing you, too.”

Y/N breathed out shakily as her heart felt like giving up, she’d been through too many sleepless nights wondering why Steve never said goodbye, now she was finally getting her answer, the truth hurt so much more. Her hand came up to cover her mouth, helplessly sobbing as she leaned the truth behind Steve’s departure.

“He knew they wouldn’t stop until they got what they wanted. He told me the risk was too high, their threats weren’t as empty as he’d originally hoped. They told him he had to sacrifice himself, to never return if he wanted you to be safe.” He continued as he felt her gasping for air between cries, his eyes closing weakly as he felt her pain. “Steve realised there was only one way to make sure they kept their end of the bargain, to make sure they never came near you again. He went back to destroy the weapon that Hydra had planted in your brain.” Bucky sniffed as his fingers massaged the back of her head, dropping his head to press his cheek against hers. “He had to make sure the thing that controlled you was never invented, so that they would have no reason to come after you.”

Y/N fell still, her head spinning, overwhelmed by the amount of information she was being told. It all become too much for her to handle, she didn’t want to listen anymore, she’d heard enough. She shook her head, refusing to know anymore than she already did.

“His plan was to find you once he’d completed his mission. To earn your love and make a life for the both of you, one where you’d both be safe.” Bucky’s words made Y/N wince in agony, somewhere out there, Steve was with her, they had a life together, one that she would never know.

Her tears fell silently down her face as she hung her head, a sudden shell of hardness covering her body as she swallowed the hard lump in her throat. “You knew this all along.” She whispered out sadly, blinking rapidly in an attempt to control her tears as her hands dropped from his body. It wasn't a question, she knew it was true.

Bucky’s heart sunk as a wave of anxiety flooded his body, his chest heaving as his eyebrows arched softly. “I was just doing what Steve-”

“You listened to me blame him.” Her voice shook in a mixture of pain and sadness, the world around her darkening. “You spent countless sleepless nights with me, watching me tormented at not knowing why Steve had left.” She pressed her lips together in a hard line, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. “And all the time, you knew.”

“Y/N,” Bucky pleaded sadly in defeat, listening to the weakness of her voice. He’d never meant to hurt her, he never wanted to cause her any pain. “I’m so sorry.”He cried as his flesh hand came up to wipe away his tears. “Please, you have to believe me.” He whispered softly, desperately reaching his hand out towards her, flinching slightly when he felt her push him away.

“I can’t do this.” She shook her head, panic setting in as her heart thudded repeatedly against her chest. He was hurting just as much as she was. His eyes were flooded with tears, his bottom lip trembling as he avoided her gaze. Y/N felt the darkness of the room engulf her as she stood up, her head spinning as shallow breaths left her lips. She sighed deeply as she turned her head towards the door.

Bucky sobbed as he watched her leave him alone in the dark. His heart ached, knowing that he’d broken her heart and there was nothing he could do to fix it. His head dropped back in agony as he heard the door close behind her, wondering if he’d ever get to make it up to her. Wondering if he even deserved the chance.

Y/N sobbed weakly as her head dropped in defeat, her heart sinking as she found her way back to her empty room. She’d finally got the confession from Bucky that she wanted, but now it caused her more pain than joy. Maybe she wasn’t worthy of happiness. Maybe all this pain was karma for the pain she’d caused others under Hydra’s control.

Bucky’s body weakened, feeling sick to his stomach as he sat there alone in the darkness. Everything she’d said was true, he couldn’t argue, he knew how much he’d kept from her. He thought he was doing what was best, but all he’d been doing was delaying her pain.

——

It was the longest, loneliest night either of them had persevered through. Neither of them slept, both haunted by the night before. Y/N longed to feel Bucky’s warmth against her, holding her close and keeping her safe. She couldn’t blame him for trying to honour Steve’s wish, she’d realised that around 3am.

Bucky was tortured by her absence, wondering if she was okay, if she was hurting as much as he was. He didn't regret his decision to tell her the truth, the same way he was sure Steve wouldn’t be regretting his decision to leave in order to save her. Now more than ever, he understood Steve’s decision. Both of them had caused her pain, but they’d done it out of love.

Despite his best efforts to avoid any sort of human contact, Bucky was met by Wanda in the kitchen. He sighed deeply, keeping his head down as he silently poured himself a cup of water.

“Bucky,” Wanda spoke softly, walking over to stand opposite him. He glanced up at her quickly, his eyes still red from all of the crying he’d done, hoping she’d get the message. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“Sorry, Wanda, now’s not really a good time.” Bucky mumbled his response, hoping that the Scarlett Witch would accept his wish and let him be. The pain from last night was still fresh, and no one apart from Bucky and Y/N had known what had unfolded.

“It’s about Y/N.” Wanda added quickly, her eyebrows arching slightly, hoping he’d take the time to listen. Her fingers tapped on the edge of the worktop, nervously trying to gauge the reaction of the obviously miserable super soldier.

“What about Y/N?” Bucky asked anxiously, a million thoughts flying through his head. His chest tightened as he glared at Wanda with a deep frown, anticipating what she had to say.

“Remember when you caught me casting a spell to let her see Steve?” Wanda started softly, her heart racing as she observed his reaction carefully. Bucky’s head nodded in confirmation, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for her to continue. “Y/N saw you while she was under the spell.” She elaborated, raising her eyebrows as she waited for him to catch on.

“So?” Bucky frowned with a shrug of his shoulders.

“So,” Wanda dragged out the word slightly. “It’s a lovers spell, Bucky. Whilst under it, you are only able to see people who you’re in love with.” She explained with a soft smile, watching Bucky’s eyes widen slightly as he finally began to understand. “Y/N is in love with you.”

“I have to go.” Bucky mumbled quickly, carelessly slamming the glass of water down on the kitchen worktop as he rushed out of the room. He didn’t care that she’d probably not want to talk to him after last night, he didn’t care that she’d probably yell at him to go away. All he cared about was seeing her.

He turned the handle on the door, bursting into Y/N’s bedroom without knocking as his chest heaved. “Bucky!” Y/N squealed in shock, her eyes widening as she turned to face the super soldier from where she stood at the end of her bed.

“Do you love me?” He panted out breathlessly, anxious to know if it was true, if she did in fact feel the same way as he did. He didn’t care that she probably never wanted to see him again after last night, Wanda’s words echoing through his mind, taking control of his senses.

“Bucky, you can’t just barge in here-“

“Do you love me?” He yelled desperately, walking towards her as Y/N’s face softened in shock. She watched his eyes glisten with hope, her heart racing as he stood in front of her.

He looked down at the girl in front of him, the girl he’d held close every night, the girl he’d loved silently for far too long. Every treasured moment came crashing through his mind, his chest heaving as he longed to hear her confirm what Wanda had told him.

Y/N breathed out shakily as she looked up at him, the man who’d been there for her through every tear, every sleepless night. The man she’d learned to trust, the man who made her feel safe, the man who felt like home to her. The man who she couldn’t imagine her life without. Her heart thudded against her chest as butterflies filled her tummy, an overwhelming amount of emotion coursing through her body, she’d never felt more vulnerable. “Yes.” She whispered softly, everything around them fading away as they kept their eyes on each other. “Bucky, I love you.”

He pressed his lips softly against hers, feeling her immediately respond as she kissed him back. They sighed into the kiss, a huge weight lifting off of them both as they finally accepted their love for one another.

And in that moment, they finally believed that everything was going to be okay.

tag list:

@harrysthiccthighss

@annestine

@bestofbucky

@be-patient-be-good

@nothing0is4here

@velvetcardiganbucky

@sexwithhiddlesbatch

@codyl-angdon

@marveljunkieee

@melchills-j​

@permanent-lines​

[ohmyasmodeus]

𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙣 𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨!

it’s real sleepy bitch hours for mc! the weather here has been so warm and rainy, it’s perfect cuddle weather and i couldn’t resist writing the boys being soft because of it ♡

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♡ 𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘳

✧   Let’s be real— adjusting to the academic standards of the Devildom isn’t going to be easy for a human. There are definitely sleepless nights and times that you just don’t get it. Lucifer certainly doesn’t help. In fact, he puts you through the damn wringer when you ask him to tutor you.

✧   “Are you listening, my love?” Lucifer looks at you with a chuckle, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. And of course you’re not. Lucifer’s closeness is pretty much the only upside to studying together. Unfortunately, his warmth and his soothing baritone voice makes you drowsy, and you can barely focus on the textbook in front of you as you cling to his side.

✧   He would normally wake anyone else up with harsh consequences… but he can’t help but watch you doze off with a doting smile. “Typical,” he says quietly, putting an arm around you to pull you close. He supposes the study session is over for now, and puts the materials aside before shifting to a more comfortable position to hold you. This man adores watching you rest in his arms. He knows that you probably pulled an all-nighter, and that you deserve the rest after all the effort you put into your studies.

✧   Lucifer stays for as long as he can to look after you and kiss your head from time to time, but don’t be surprised if you wake up alone. But at least you’ll be tucked into your bed sweetly. You curse his busy schedule, but the handwritten note he leaves makes you smile with promises that he’ll be back to spend the night holding you more.

♡ 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘯

✧   He’s usually all over you as you are with him, so it’s not like it’s an uncommon occurrence for you to fall asleep around him. That doesn’t make Mammon any less flustered over the fact, though. As far as he’s concerned, if you fall asleep clinging to his arm, that's your arm now.

✧   “______? Hey… get off me, will ya?” Mammon protests when you fall asleep on him, but his quiet flustered protests are half-baked. He doesn’t want to wake you up, and god does he love it when you cling to him like you do. Thank god you two were in your room lazing about after class, so he gets to pull you closer without anyone having to bear witness to how completely smitten he is with you. He likes slowly rubbing your arm and your back while he sinks into the affection. You’re completely his in the moment, as he is yours.

✧   If any of the other brothers come into your room looking for either of you, he’s furiously shushing them with flushed cheeks! He even gently puts a hand over one of your ears to try and shield you from any of the ruckus he kicks up trying to get his brothers to stop teasing him and leave.

✧   You probably don’t even wake up for a while. A nap wrapped in Mammon’s arms tends to turn into a whole coma, both of you eventually ending up passed out, clinging to each other tight in your sleep. He has his face buried in your hair, arms tight around your waist, both of your legs tangled because he wants you all to himself!

♡ 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘯

✧   Okay. Okay, so he’s trying so hard not to take offense at the fact that you fell asleep while you two were watching one of his favourite dramas. It’s fine. It doesn’t matter that this one was the one he’d been texting you ceaselessly about, or that he was so into it that he only realised you had fallen asleep when you nearly bonked his head with yours.

✧   “Really, ______…” Satan huffs and frowns, but makes sure to sit you up in a comfortable position on the couch, making sure you’re kept warm by placing his jacket over you. You’re a cute sight at least, with the way your head nods. Your hair falls charmingly into your face, and Satan can’t help but tenderly tuck the locks behind your ear. He continues watching without you, but he can’t stop his gaze from flickering towards you every so often, because you just look… soft. Your features enchant him, especially in such a peaceful state.

✧   Eventually, your head nearly bonks his again. He’s forced to sit closer to you so you can rest your head on his shoulder. You always do this, despite the fact that Satan was never the cuddliest demon, you always make him want to get closer. You make him want to pull you into his lap so he can keep you safe— but for now, he settles for letting you lean on him, and placing a gentle hand over the one you have on the couch beside him.

✧   You’ll have to make it up to him when you wake up though! And there’s no better way to get that frown off his face than with a thousand silly little kisses that make him smile at you like you’re the most stunning sunrise he’s ever seen.

♡ 𝘢𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘶𝘴

✧   It’s hard to fall asleep around Asmodeus sometimes. It’s the fact that he’s just so excited to be around you, pulling you to do this and that with him! Every moment spent with you is precious, and he’s always all over you. But you can’t help but get sleepy when he steals you away for a day of self-care with him.

✧   You cherish the way he almost worships you, with the way he gently rubs lotion into your skin and kisses your wrist, and the way he tenderly brushes your hair. By the time he’s brushing a face mask onto your cheeks, you’re halfway to dreamland, and the way you struggle to stay awake makes Asmodeus giggle and kiss you softly. He can’t help but coo over you, his darling, his beautiful sweetheart, his everything!

✧   After sharing a bath, Asmo definitely lulls you to sleep himself by stroking your hair as you cuddle into the silky sheets together. He lays your head on his chest, and you’re addicted to the way you feel his chest vibrate with his laughter. He’ll gently tangle his fingers in your hair, giving your scalp a gentle massage as he whispers sweet nothings… And as much as they sound like sweet nothings, they mean absolutely everything to you.

✧   When you wake up, don’t be surprised to find little innocent hickeys here and there! Asmodeus is addicted to you, and he wants the entire town to know that he’s with you (though god knows the rest of his brothers are sick to death of hearing about it).

♡ 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘻𝘦𝘣𝘶𝘣

✧   From pretty much the moment you were introduced to the demon brothers, you had already pinpointed Beel as the perfect mattress. Many aspects of him were simply irresistible to you, but most of all, you loved the fact that he made the perfect human radiator!

✧   After the semestral exam week successfully catechised you, you were sleep deprived and pretty much lucid after it was all over. The only thing you could think to do was seek out your boyfriend’s arms! You find him in his room easily, and immediately flop over him. He lets out the cutest confused noise, but wraps his arms around you regardless and kisses your head.

✧   “Was it tough, ______? I’m sure you did great, though.” Beel mumbles as you squirm about in his arms, and he lets out a satisfied mellow rumble in his chest when you finally settle. You’re pretty much laying there lights out before he even finishes speaking. He’s happy though! He’s just happy to give you a little squeeze and kiss your head like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held.

✧   “Let’s go out for dinner to celebrate. I really want to treat you,” he says with a smile, voice dropping to a quiet murmur when he notices you drifting off already. His heart is a mess in his chest and his cheeks can’t seem to cool off, but he loves the way you make him feel, and he’ll be sure to tell you the moment you wake up!

♡ 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘳

✧   Belphie has long since traded in his cow-print pillow for you in its stead, and he always lulls you to sleep with the gentle rise and fall of his chest, and the way he traces patterns in your skin with a barely-there fingertip. You tend to stay awake longer than he does, satisfied with your role as a pillow while you play on your phone… or simply watch Belphie as he rests, while stroking his cheeks and hair affectionately.

✧   He’s definitely delighted when he manages to catch you falling asleep before he does. Since he can never help but fall asleep in your arms the moment you hold him, it’s a rare sight— your face, beautiful in its tranquility, resting mere inches away from his. He gently presses his forehead to yours with a secretive smile, savouring the moment.

✧   This time, he prefers to be the one staying awake for a little bit more. It feels like a dream almost, it’s simply unreal to have you giving him so much love and trust. He’ll gently run his hand up and down your side, letting himself indulge by pressing a few little kisses to your soft cheeks and lips.

✧   Please wake up in the middle of him indulging. The almost bashful laugh he lets out when you open your eyes is priceless.

✧   “You caught me red-handed.” Belphie nuzzles his nose into yours, taking one of your hands to hold, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Shouldn’t be so gorgeous all the time.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[plant-flwrs]

I love your writing! Can you do a reader x fred where the reader’s whole family (like siblings) is slytherin except her and she’s in gryffindor and you can do whatever with it thank you!

rivalries as old as time // fred weasley

masterlist!

a/n: omg i’ve never written mean!george this was kind of scary hehe. n e way, hope u like it! thanks for ur request!

summary: Fred and George are usually united on everything, but Fred’s crush on Draco Malfoy’s sister is definitely something they disagree on.

(5k)

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You had never liked red, and as you fidgeted with your red tie for the fifth time, you felt an elbow to your side.

“Stop,” Fred Weasley whispered from beside you, sending a scowl your way, “It’s distracting.”

“Distracting from what? You have no intention of taking notes,” you said, looking at both his and your blank parchments in front of you.

“Distracting from my daydreams,” he said easily, leaning forward on his desk to rest his forearms against the wood, “I need to focus on them, they’re just getting good.”

“What’re they about?” you asked, hoping to sound rude. Fred looked at you in the corner of his eye, and he was regrettably forced to admit that your signature Malfoy smirk was insanely attractive.

“Oh you know,” Fred said, copying your actions to lean back in his chair, “ the usual. Trolls and Gremlins.”

The both of you slouched in your chairs, arms crossed, ignoring the awfully boring lecture Professor Binns was giving.

You rolled your eyes, annoyed by Fred. Your gaze drifted across the room, trying to find something entertaining for your crystal gray eyes to focus on.

Fred, meanwhile, was internally slapping himself. Trolls and Gremlins? That was so stupid!

He watched your blonde hair fall from where it was loosely tucked into a headband, and you brought a mindless finger to put the hair back. He watched your simple movements, entranced by you.

You and Fred didn’t get along. You are a Malfoy, and he’s a Weasley. But still, somehow, you both always found yourselves thinking of the other.

History of Magic was his favorite class, because of you.

You and Draco had crossed paths on the way to lunch, and he walked briskly over to you, dismissing some of his Slytherin friends. You paid no mind to their scowls and figured they felt so angry because Gryffindor was playing Slytherin next week on the pitch.

“Has mum sent an owl to you this week?” Draco asked, craning his neck a little to look at you. His growth spurt hadn’t struck him yet.

“Oh!” you said, beginning to dig through your bag, “Sorry, forgot about it.”

You pulled a small parcel from your bag, handing it to your brother. The two of you were nearing the Great Hall, where you would have to split and go your separate ways.

“What is it?” you asked, feeling an obligation to be nosy in your little brother’s business.

“Some ink,” Draco said lazily, tucking the package into his own bag, “it’s my lucky ink.”

“Why? Is it enchanted?” you asked, and then lowered your voice, “Is that how you get such high marks?”

Draco smiled at your compliment and shook his head no.

“No, I get those because I study,” he said flatly, a dig at the fact that you excelled more on the Quidditch pitch than the academics.

You jokingly narrowed your eyes at him, and just before he walked to the Slytherin table, you reached out and ruffled his gelled hair. His joking stature quickly turned serious, and you broke into a jog to get to the Gryffindor table and away from Draco. You watched him attempt to smooth back his hair, chuckling as you slid down on the bench, a few seats away from Fred and George.

Fred was hunched over a poorly drawn drawing that George pointed to continuously while he talked.

“If we took that one corridor, there's that curtain that leads here,” George said, moving his finger to the right, “and then we can easily get back in time!”

You didn’t bother to ask, knowing George wouldn’t tell you. As much as you and Fred would get into little arguments, George had it out for you. Despite being his housemate, it was a known fact that you were the target of his pranks. Last year, he had snuck into the girl's Quidditch changing rooms and stole your clothes. You had to beg Fred from where he stood on the outside of the tent to make his brother give his clothes back, and when that didn’t work, you waved your wand and said “Accio clothes”. George had never run so fast up a hill, and he still couldn’t escape your wrath.

You pulled a sandwich from the tray in front of you.

“Malfoy,” Oliver Wood said, catching your attention.

“Yeah?” you said, taking a large bite of your sandwich.

“Did you look over that play I sent you?” Oliver asked, referring to the crumpled note he had tossed at the back of your head during Charms.

“Yeah,” you said, chewing and fishing in your bag for the note.

You pulled it out and saw Fred looking towards you. You looked at him before returning to Oliver. You unfolded the paper and Oliver hunched over it as George had done down the table.

Oliver’s hands were all over the simple drawing, his words getting lost in your boredom. You loved Quidditch, but god, could Oliver be boring.

“What are you two talking about?” both of your heads snapped up to see Fred forcing himself between the two first years that sat across you.

Oliver handed him the paper, pointing at all the meanings of the symbols.

“This,” he finally said, catching his breath, “is how we’re gonna beat Slytherin next week.”

Your weeknights were spent with Oliver, both of you ranting on about strategies while also trying to get done some homework. You occupied a wooden table that was usually used for chess, but the board was moved over to the coffee table where Ron and Harry played.

Fred watched, nearly pouting, from his spot on the couch. He watched the way your light eyes would brighten at the words Oliver said to you, and how you would blush every time he offered you a compliment on your playing.

“Ready for practice tonight?” Fred said, sliding up next to you as you waited outside of Binns’ classroom.

“Yeah,” you said absentmindedly, picking at your nails.

“George and I won’t take it easy on you,” Fred said, his veiled attempt at sounding threatening failing.

“Oh, Fred,” you said, faking a shake in your voice, “you don’t mean that.”

Fred rolled his eyes at your teasing, following after you as you walked to your shared desk.

Both of you came down the Gryffindor stairs at the same time, dressed in your practice jerseys and equipment in hand.

You glanced at him and caught his eyes looking you up and down. You chuckled to yourself, and his face flushed red.

You walked through the portrait hole with Oliver, and Fred watched you as he waited for George.

The two of them twisted and tossed their beater bats from hand to hand as they were perched on their brooms. You and Alicia faced off near the ground, hovering stoically. It was no competition, you were a better flyer than Alicia. She nearly had you matched in the power of her arm, but you still had the upper hand.

Fred bit his lip as you extended yourself to reach for the Quaffle. Your legs were the only thing keeping you on the broom, but you didn’t pay any mind to the unsteadiness. The only thing you thought of was the play Oliver had ingrained in your mind the past week. You repeated his critiques in your head and made sure to fix your grip on the Quaffle.

Alicia trailed after you, and you dove under Angelina to avoid her grasp. They were both trailing after you now. Alicia was nearly taken off her broom by a Bludger, and risking a glance upwards, you saw Fred’s triumphant smile. It was lucky that Fred was on your team for this practice because George had a nasty habit of failing to block Bludgers from hitting you.

Nearing near the goal post, you easily wound your arm back and sent the Quaffle right past Oliver. He slapped his gloved hands on his broom and sent you a proud smile.

The practice continued, and you weren’t hit with a Bludger the whole time, no matter how many George sent at you. Fred was always there to send them off, and send you a wink after he did it. You won the practice scrimmage, but Alicia put up a good fight.

“We have this,” Alicia said, beaming at you as she shed her heavy robes in the changing room.

“If we don’t I think Oliver’ll have an aneurism,” you joked, pulling on a loose t-shirt.

Angelina chuckled, and Alicia continued to beam.

“Really lucky Fred saved you from all those Bludgers,” Katie Bell teased from behind you.

“George has got it out for me,” you said nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders.

“Yeah, but, Fred sure kept you safe,” she continued to hint, but it went over your head.

“Well yeah, we can’t have an injury two days before the match,” you said, closing your locker and shuffling the combination.

Alicia rolled her eyes, and Angelina laughed.

“Yeah, that’s why,” Katie said, giving up.

You walked up the path to the castle and saw a clan of black robes walking down the path. You saw blond hair that matched yours peaking from one of them.

“Draco!” you called to your brother, breaking into a jog to reach him.

“Hey,” he said, breaking off from his Slytherin teammates.

“Are you guys ready for the match?” you asked excitedly.

Draco huffed out a defeated sigh, crossing his arms.

“No,” he admitted, glancing over his shoulder to make sure his housemates couldn’t hear him, “we bloody suck.”

You fought the cheeky smile that crept onto your face.

“Oh, that’s rotten, Draco,” you said, beginning to walk back down the hill with him, “I’m sure you’ll play your best.”

“I’ll try,” he said, beginning to shoo you off, “go do your homework.”

You rolled your eyes at your brother and waved him off, setting back up the castle.

The day of matches was always nerving, but it was even worse when it was against Slytherin. It felt like everyone in the school wanted you, needed you, to beat them.

You and Oliver sat shoulder to shoulder, both trying to get the other to eat something for breakfast. You both claimed to be too nervous, and then the other would say “that’s ridiculous, you have to eat!”.

Walking to the pitch, Harry Potter trailed behind all of you. You watched the twins stop to reach him, each wrapping a comforting and brotherly arm around his shoulders. You smiled to yourself, slipping into the changing room with the rest of the girls.

The crowd was roaring. It had never been this loud. Various chants sounded off, and you soon realized that someone in the Slytherin crowd learned a charm to louden their voice. Hateful words about Harry spouted from the green stands, and boos countered the Slytherin statements from the blue, yellow, and red bannered stands.

Taking the field, you hovered in front of Adrian Pucey as you had hovered in front of Alicia. Alicia was much nicer to look at, you thought, and she was a better player.

Pucey was barely moving before you soared off with the Quaffle tucked under your arm. You avoided the Slytherin chasers easily, twisting and ducking on your broom with the Quaffle on you like it was a third arm attached to your body. Cheers sounded off as you faked out Marcus Flint and Adrian Pucey, making them dive into each other and nearly sending them off their brooms.

You looked back, seeing Alicia wide open behind you. You glanced forward, the Slytherin keeper braced for your shot. You slowed, allowing Alicia to come to your side. You made a seamless pass to her that the keeper hadn’t noticed, and while he looked at you, Alicia came from the left and scored. You met her to high five, your arms outstretched.

Fred dove to you, following a very determined Bludger. His bat was nearly touching it, nearly about to send it off its path towards you. He was just about to reach it when you dove. Fred and the Bludger soared past you, and the Bludger redirected itself. Doing a loop, and seeing that you were no longer there, it went for the next best thing. Alicia barely had time to brace herself before the Bludger knocked her shoulder out of its socket. The painful injury only caused a short interruption, but she had some choice words for Fred and George for failing to hit the Bludger sooner.

After that one incident, the game continued in the same fashion. You and Alicia flew circles around the lacking Slytherin Chasers, and Oliver blocked nearly everything they sent at him.

The cheers from the crowd stayed consistent for the entire match. There was never a silent moment from any house. A renowned gasp fell across the crowd, though, as Draco changed direction quickly. He turned the end of his broom straight up, and with an outstretched hand, Harry was breathing down Draco’s neck. You watched your brother, his blond hair flying off his face, his long arms reaching out into the sky. You didn’t feel bad for rooting for Draco, because even if he caught it, you were so ahead it wouldn’t have mattered.

Draco’s pale fingers eventually did wrap around the snitch, and without thinking, he let go of his broom in the haste of catching the little thing. He began to fall from the sky, and you watched as his legs and arms flailed around him. His broom fell faster than he did, and you flew to him. You were pulling your wand from your boot when someone had beat you to it. Draco hung suspended in mid-air, his body limp. He raised his head, and you saw his ghostly cheeks flushed pink. He looked around, patting his body to check if he was still alive. When he realized he was, he raised his hand into the sky, showing the golden snitch. The green section roared with laughter, but Lee Jordan’s voice halted them.

“Just a reminder! The Gryffindor team still wins!”

Cheers from every other section sounded off, and you felt a pang of guilt in your heart. You could be a Slytherin, you should be a Slytherin, and here you were apart of one of the houses that cheered for your brother's losses.

You flew to Draco, watching as he tucked the snitch into his robe pocket. You hovered, and he climbed onto the back of your broom. You looked around to see who had saved him, only to see Fred’s smug smile above you. George hovered next to his brother, scowling at Fred. You watched Fred tuck his wand back into his robes, giving you a shy wave. You smiled back at him, a silent thanks for the help.

You flew Draco to the ground, where he collected his broom.

“You were great, Dray,” you said, clapping him on the back, “really.”

“We lost,” he spat at you, cringing from your touch.

“Yeah but that’s not your fault.” you consoled him, watching his face soften, “You did your job, you caught the snitch.”

Draco nodded at you, offering you an appreciative smile. You wrapped an arm around his shoulder and squeezed briefly, then sending him off to his sulking Slytherin team captain.

Oliver was already running towards you, arms outstretched.

“Y/n!” he called, and you smiled widely at him.

“You were amazing, Wood,” you called to him, letting him envelop you in a hug.

He pulled you over to the huddle of your teammates, and they were all beaming.

“Wasn’t Potter this time, was it?” Lee Jordan called from his place in the spectator box, “Y/n Malfoy, the best Chaser Gryffindor’s got!”

You blushed wildly at Lee’s exaggerated praise, ducking your head as your teammates all cheered for you.

Fred and George came tumbling from the sky, landing ungracefully on the ground.

“Think this calls for a party?” Fred asked, and everyone’s cheers increased.

The common room was transformed into an even more red and gold haven. Maybe red was growing on you.

You were standing at the center of a huddle, everyone’s glasses raised. Oliver had just made a quite longwinded speech, to which you cut off with:

“Let’s drink to that!”

Cheers came from everyone around you, and you brought your firewhisky to your lips.

“I still don’t get why you did that,” George shouted at his brother, his words slightly slurred. George never could handle his liquor.

“It was her brother, mate!” Fred shouted back.

“He’s a Malfoy! And so is she! Freaks, the lot of them!” George yelled, and the statement trailed over the crowd and to your ears.

You turned to look at the twins, meeting George’s disgusted face.

You pushed through the crowd and put yourself between the brothers, bringing your face to George’s.

“What’s your problem?” you shouted, and he cringed away from the loud noise.

“You!” he shouted back, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“You’re a prick,” you said to him, sounding poisonous, “a drunk prick.”

George scoffed and brought a hand to your shoulder. He shoved you away, and you tumbled into Fred. Fred’s arms were around you before you could lunge at George as if he read your mind.

“Let me go!” you shouted to Fred, thrashing against him. George stood in front of you, taunting you. He waved his drink around, his drunken expression full of arrogance.

“I can’t!” Fred called out to you, then to George, “George, stop!”

George rolled his eyes and tossed back the rest of his drink. He stumbled off to somewhere else, leaving you in Fred’s grasp.

He felt your heavy breathing against his chest, your warm arms in his hands.

“You alright?” Fred spoke into your ear, his mouth moving against your hair.

“Yeah, I’m fine, you can let me go,” you said, wiggling from his grasp.

Fred hadn’t wanted to let you go, but he figured it would be odd if he kept you pulled against him.

“He didn’t mean that,” Fred started, but you waved him off.

“Yes he did,” you said. starting to walk away.

Fred reached out for you, pulling you back.

“I’m sorry,” Fred said, his eyes searching yours.

“Stop, Fred,” you said, pulling your arm from his hand again, “None of you Weasley’s have liked me since the day I was sorted into Gryffindor. It didn’t even matter who I was.”

Fred’s eyebrows furrowed at your statement, but he couldn’t find it in himself to feel anything but sympathy as he looked at your hurt expression.

“That’s not true, Y/n,” he started, but you turned again. He didn’t stop you that time.

Your mood was ruined. You filled your cup with more firewhisky, but at the bottom of each glass, all you could see was George’s disgusted face.

You had never done anything to the Weasleys, but that never stopped the redheads, or their friends, from sending you glares any time they saw you. You felt torn, torn by the unnaturalness of you being in Gryffindor, being away from your brother. You were torn by the fact that you felt weren’t even wanted by Gryffindor. No matter what you did, it was never right.

You remembered watching Draco get sorted, his baby-faced wonder as he sat on the stool with his legs crossed at the ankles. You had hoped, you had even prayed, that Draco would be sorted into Gryffindor. When that house was called out, though, the table of green erupted, and you watched your brother be swept off by your rivaling house.

George would never understand this, he would never see you as anything but a Malfoy, a pure-blood supremacist. You weren’t what your family was, you didn’t care about blood status, but no one cared.

Your anger seethed, watching George having fun, dancing with Angelina. Your grip on your cup tightened, and you wanted more than anything to go up to him and throw what was left of your drink into his face. You started over to him.

Fred intercepted you, having been watching you intently the whole night.

“You don’t want to do this,” Fred said, trying to calm you down as he blocked your path to his brother, “wait ‘till morning, then you can scream at him all you want.”

You could only shake your head, trying to move pasted Fred. You didn’t want to do this in the morning, you wanted to do this now, while the warm anger moved through your blood as fast as the whiskey did.

Fred’s hands gripped your upper arms, holding you in place.

“Let me go, Fred,” you mumbled, teeth gritted.

“I can’t, Y/n,” he said, searching for your eyes like he was begging you to look at him.

“He can’t always get away with it,” you whispered, feeling your anger turn into sadness. You had refused to cry about George or anything he said in your first year, but it seemed that now was your breaking point.

“He won’t, I promise,” Fred whispered back, trying to sound reassuring. He found it hard, his heart hurting at the sight of you so upset.

“He always does!” you exclaimed, your voice breaking. Your eyes were still dry, but the pounding in your chest felt like a heart attack.

“Well, he won’t this time,” Fred replied, bringing his face to yours so you had no choice but to look at him, “I’ll make sure of it.”

You met his eyes, and he saw the hopeful glint in them. He offered you a kind smile, his lips stretched across his face. You nodded at him, relaxing in his grasp. You didn’t try to move from it, and you didn’t want to. You felt safe in Fred’s arms.

“Oi!” George called from behind Fred.

Fred turned, putting you behind his back and himself between you and George. You pushed and pulled, trying to get in front of him and to George, but he was too strong.

“Fred, when are you going to get over this?” George asked his brother, downing the last of his dark drink.

“Shut up, George,” Fred warned, trying to push you and him away from George.

“I’ve told you a million times, mate,” George started, “Malfoys and Weasleys don’t belong together.”

Fred was on top of George in seconds. He was wrestling him to the ground and putting him in a headlock.

You put a hand over your mouth, watching as they fought. You replayed George’s words, “Malfoys and Weasleys don’t belong together”. Was this simple brotherly teasing, or did Fred have feelings for you?

Katie and Alicia found you in the crowd, and you hadn’t even realized what you were doing as they pulled you off of Fred and George. You had grabbed Fred’s shoulders, trying to pull him off his brother, but they thrashed against your grip.

Alicia and Katie were guiding you up the girl's dormitory stairs, pushing you towards the bathroom as your face became green with nausea. Katie held your hair, rubbing your back as you emptied your breakfast and what looked to be an entire bottle of firewhisky.

You groaned, moving to rest your back on the wall in front of the toilet. Katie flushed the vomit, closed the lid, and sat in front of you.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her kind voice inviting you to tell her all about your insecurities and worries.

Alicia came in right at the part of you feeling guilty for not being Slytherin, and Angelina stumbled into the dorms at your conclusion of what George said about Weasleys and Malfoys.

The girls consoled you, assuring you that you had every right to be in Gryffindor and that George was just a prick.

“What’d you think he meant by that?” Katie said, testing your reaction, in reference to what George said.

“I dunno,” you grumbled, moving yourself to lay down on the ground. Alicia moved, grabbing your shoulder and making you stay upright.

“Could it mean Fred,” Alicia spoke like a kindergarten teacher, and your drunken self giggled as she spoke, “likes you?”

You gasped, your head falling back to hit the wall.

“No way,” you mumbled, and when Katie started giggling next to you, you did too.

When Fred finally made his way up the girl's stairs, bypassing the detouring charms, he heard loud and manic giggles coming from your dorm. He opened the door but found the beds empty. The door to the bathroom was open, and the sound came from there.

“Hello?” he said, rasping his knuckles on the door frame.

The four girls on the ground, all looked up at him with bright smiles, all saying at the same time: “Fred!”

Fred’s eyes went to yours immediately. He smiled as his name fell from your drunken lips, admiring the twinkle in your silver eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asked, moving to crouch in front of you.

The other girls got the hint, and filed out of the bathroom, all mumbling something of good luck to you.

“Yeah,” you replied, still smiling.

Your eyes focused on his face, and you saw a nasty cut on his lip. It bled a little to the corner of his mouth and down his jaw, stopping just above his shirt collar.

Your smile dropped, and you brought a hand to his jaw, “Are you alright? You’re bleeding, Fred.”

He brought a hand to his lip, and when he pulled it away he saw blood. You pushed yourself to your feet, wobbling a little as you stood. You got a wad of toilet paper and wet it a little in the sink. You put your hands on Fred’s shoulders, telling him to be still.

He closed his eyes as you dragged the paper over his jaw and dabbed at his lip. Once you got the blood off, you got a dry piece of toilet paper and ran it back over his jaw again. He suppressed the groans he wanted to release, forcing his hands not to reach out and grab your waist. Once the trail of blood was gone, you used a finger to tilt his face up. You ran your fingers over where the blood had been, making sure you got it all. Fred’s mouth opened a little at the touch, and he sighed heavily. You let his face drop back to yours, and looked at him. His mouth still had some blood in the corner. You wet the pad of your thumb with your tongue and cupped Fred’s face. You brought your thumb to the corner of his mouth and swiped your finger across his lip. This time Fred wasn’t able to suppress the moan that came from his chest. Your hand still rested on his shoulder, and your hand still held his jaw.

“Did George do this?” you asked, fearful of his response.

“Must have,” Fred whispered back to you.

“I’m sorry,” you said, dropping your hands from Fred and turning your back to him, “I shouldn’t have gone over to him.”

“Hey,” Fred said, wrapping a hand on your waist and pulling you into him, “George deserved that. You should see the shiner I gave him.”

“I can’t let you fight your brother like that,” you whispered, putting a hand on his chest and feeling his beating heart, “you two don’t fight like that.”

“I don’t care. I’ll fight him every day until he gives you a chance,” Fred replied, bringing a hand from your waist to the back of your neck.

When he began to pull your face closer to his, you pulled back a little, still in his embrace.

“I can’t kiss you,” you said, a teasing smile on your face.

“Why not?” he pouted.

“I just threw up, it’s gross.”

Fred dug in his pocket for a second and pulled out a tin. It was one in the packaging of one of his products, but he assured you they had yet to be charmed to make people’s tongues swell.

“I don’t know,” you dragged, twisting the small mint in your fingers.

“Why would I prank you right now? You have no idea how much I want to kiss you,” he took the mint form your hand and put it in your mouth for you.

He was right, it was just a regular mint. The taste of vomit was gone, and after you chewed it, Fred barely wasted a second before he pulled you into him.

He kissed you hard, despite having a busted lip. When you ran your tongue over it, he winced, and you pulled back.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said, bringing your hand up to it and touching his lip. His hand grabbed yours, and he placed gentle kisses to each of your fingertips. His hand moved to your palm, to your wrist, and up your arm. His mouth ran over your shoulder, which he pulled your shirt back from, and up your neck. His lips finally connected with yours again, and you let out a pleased moan.

Fred pushed you against the counter of the sink, and you wrapped your hands in his hair. The feeling of nausea hit you very quickly, and you pulled away from Fred. You doubled over, trying to will yourself from throwing up.

“Oh god,” you started, and Fred rushed to your side, “I’m gonna throw up again.”

“What? Was it the mint? Are you alright?” Fred protested as you pushed him on his back out of the bathroom, closing the door and locking it behind him.

You threw open the toilet seat and emptied what was left in your stomach. Flushing, you closed the lid and sat on it. You pulled your wand from your waistband and unlocked the door. Fred came in hesitantly, and when he saw you were fine, he lifted you off the toilet by the hand.

“Come on,” he said, guiding you out of the dorm.

“I don’t wanna go back to the party,” you mumbled, pulling his arm closer to you as you held onto it.

“You’ve been up there for ages, the party’s long over,” Fred assured, pulling you down the stairs.

Cups littered the ground, and abandoned streamers hung from the ceiling. A banner Dean Thomas had made hung lopsided on one side of the room.

Fred pulled you to the couch, bringing a blanket over you.

“Do you want anything?” he asked, and you laughed at his nurturing actions.

You were about to say no, but the rumbling of your stomach convinced you otherwise. You had emptied everything you had eaten, and you were hungry.

Fred snuck to the kitchens easily, making the same trek he made nearly every other night. He brought you back some sandwiches, but when he slipped through the portrait hole, he found you asleep on the couch.

Your breathing was even, and your mouth hung open a little. You curled into the couch, tucking your legs up to your chest.

He put the sandwiches on the table next to you and moved your body to the left. He curled up next to you, pulling the blanket over the both of you. He spooned you, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. He wrapped his arm around your waist, and your hand found his under the blanket.

For the first time, you felt at home in the Gryffindor common room.

[darkimaginarydesires]

Obsession (Part II) ▪︎ Dark!James Potter x Reader

《 harry potter fandom • dark!james potter x reader • marauders era 》

☆ you are responsible for your media consumption. this content has extreme warnings / triggers. this content may make some people uncomfortable. please be safe and take warnings seriously. if you need help or need to talk to someone, i am available for anyone ☆

♡ warnings: noncon/dubcon, sexual obsession, delusional obsession, physical abuse, mentions of death, definitely 18+ ♡

《 summary: when the reader does not reciprocate love for James Potter, he snaps into a complete delusional obsession with her. 》

○ part one: ○

-

James had fallen asleep holding you. You don't know how you managed to get away from him without him waking up, but you did. You ran harder than you'd ever ran before. Partly from fear, but partly because it felt good to feel your heart pound against your chest. It reminded you that you were still alive. You were almost back into the castle when you collapsed onto the stone ground, unable to move your legs any further. Your whole body felt like jello, similarly to your mind, which was in some distant land refusing to return to accept the events that had occurred. You were sobbing and shaking uncontrollably. You were so far gone, you didn't even feel Severus' arms when they wrapped themselves around you and picked you up. You buried your face into his chest as he carried you to the hospital wing.

-

James awoke in a panic, feeling you not in his arms. He looked around, realizing you were long gone. He should have gone to look for you, but he couldn't help but stop to smile at the thought of you. He could still taste you on his tongue, smell your perfume on his clothes, feel the shape of your lips against his, hear your soft moans. He got hard just thinking about the expression you had when he made you come.

"She loves me," he reminded himself.

He stood up, grabbing your bookbag from under the tree before confidently strolling back down to the castle. He made his way to his dormitory, setting your bag down and sitting on his bed. His mind continued to be overwhelmed with the thought of you. He reached into your bookbag, curiosity overcoming him. He pulled out random study books, stopping when he reached the potions one. He flipped it open, a note falling out of the front page. He opened it, seeing it was a note from Snape.

"I know you are upset you got a bad mark on the last quiz. The professor only gave you a bad mark because you're better than them. Seriously, (y/n), you are amazing at potions making. One day, you'll be working as the Potions Master and I'll be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts and we'll be able to give bad marks to all the kids we don't like. Keep your head up. - Severus"

James slammed the book shut and hastily put it back in your book bag. He was furious that someone would talk to his girl like this. He was furious that you would keep a note like this from someone like Snape. He crumpled the note, tossing it into your bag as Sirius, Remus, and Peter came running into the room.

"Where have you been?" Remus asked, clearly stressed.

"Where have you been?" James retorted, his anger from the note translating into his question.

"(Y/N) is in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey won't tell us anything. We've been trying to look for you!" Sirius said.

"Come on!" Remus called out, already making his way out of the room.

James quickly followed them, his mind racing with worry for his girl. What could have possibly happened since he saw her last? He thought to himself as they all quickly made their way to the hospital wing. When they arrived, James saw Snape sitting outside of the room. Anger immediately filled him. He knew he would have killed him if it was his fault (y/n) was hurt. He went to confront him, but Sirius grabbed his shoulders roughly.

"Come on."

They all walked into the room. James saw you curled up in the corner of the room and his heart broke for you. He wanted to wrap you up in his arms and never let go.

"(Y/N)? What happened?" Sirius asked.

"No visitors!" Dumbledore yelled.

James looked at you, waiting for you to look back at him, waiting for you to tell the headmaster you wanted him to stay, but you never did. They left the room, the door slamming shut behind them. James thought of you, how you had gone from happy in his arms to the broken girl in the hospital wing. He looked over at Severus, anger immediately engulfing him.

"Snivellus," he called out antagonistically.

He began making his way over to him, but Remus grabbed his arm and held him back.

"Not now, James. Severus is the one who brought her here. He helped her," Remus explained.

"What happened, Snape?" Sirius asked.

"I don't know," Severus responded, his voice showing his irritation.

He clearly did not want to deal with the four idiots. He was more focused on his friend's safety.

"When I found her, she was..." he broke off, having a hard time thinking of the state he had seen his strong friend in. "Someone assaulted her."

James tried to push past his friends to get to Severus, but they held him back.

"Stop!" Sirius yelled. "This is not what she needs right now!"

James ran a hand through his hair, trying to control his anger. Dumbledore opened the door and looked between all of the boys.

"Mr. Snape, you are being requested."

It took everything for James to suppress his anger as Snape stood and entered the hospital wing. The door shut and James mind raced with ideas that only fueled his rage. He remembered how your body felt as you came, he remembered how it felt to slip his cock into you, and then he imagined Snape doing the same things to you. He imagined you moaning his name, kissing his lips. James imagined rushing through the doors and smashing his face then grabbing your face and kissing you. James walked up to the hospital wing door, trying to swing it open, but it wouldn't budge.

"Dumbledore put a charm on it, James. It won't open," Remus explained. "Come on. We'll come back tomorrow."

-

You laid curled up on the bed in the corner of the dark hospital wing, unable to sleep. Severus had left at curfew and you could feel the loneliness echoing off of the room, you wished he could have held you forever. At least in his arms, you felt safe, you felt like someone was looking out for you. You were lost in your thoughts, enslaved by the memories of the night.

The door to the hospital wing slowly creeped open, a sliver of light from the corridor shining through. Adrenaline poured into your system, intensifying every feeling in your body. You reminded yourself of the enchantment Dumbledore had placed over the room. You reminded yourself you were safe.

"Sev?" You called out. "Is that you?"

The door opening widened, but there was no one there. You sat up in the bed, looking intently at the door as if to see if it was truly open or if your mind was deceiving you. You went to stand to close it, but you were stopped in your tracks. You heard footsteps slowly making their way closer towards you. You pushed yourself back on the bed, your back firmly against the headboard. At the foot of your bed, the invisibility cloak slowly lifted, revealing James. You were locked in place, unable to move or scream even though you wanted to.

"Baby, what's wrong?" James asked, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

He moved to sit beside you on the bed. He wasn't touching you, but your skin crawled with the memory of his last touch.

"Get out," you said firmly, somehow finding the strength.

"Get out?" James laughed. "Come on, baby. You know you want me here. Otherwise, how would I have gotten in?"

You never knew confusion was such an intense emotion until that moment. You tried to deny it, but remembered the charm. Did you want him here? Did you want him? Your thoughts were broken by James' hand grabbing your thigh, his thumb gently caressing your skin. You reached for his hand to push it away, but he caught it, bringing it up to his lips. You pulled away aggressively, but James didn't seem to notice.

"Stop, James."

His eyes were focused on your lips as he moved closer to you. He grabbed your ankle, pulling you down onto the bed as he hovered over you. His hand went to your face, cupping it softly. You pushed against his chest, trying to push him off. You could feel his hard on pressing against your stomach.

"James, get off of me! Please, stop!" You screamed.

"Don't do that, baby," he soothed. "I love you. And you love me, you know that."

His hand moved down to your neck as he pressed his lips against yours.

You jolted up in a panic, looking around the empty room frantically. You were out of breath, your throat dry and sore. You pressed the palms of your hands against your forehead, imprudently trying to force the nefarious memories and thoughts from your mind. You spent the rest of the night with your eyes searching the dark, empty room for any sign of movement, paranoid your nightmare would become a reality and you would be forced to relive your worst experience all over again. Somehow, the castle now seemed to be home to many more ghosts.

-

You spent the next week in the hospital wing. Severus brought you all of the classwork you were missing so you were not falling behind. He spent as much time as he could with you, making you feel far less lonely. Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were incredibly patient and understanding of the incident. They came to check on you at least once a day and never pressured you to leave the hospital wing. You knew it was time to return to your usual daily routine, but the idea of being forced to interact with James felt like a nightmare. You laid on the hospital bed, your books and parchment sprawled out as you worked.

“What happened to you?” Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, breaking your concentration and causing you to look up from your papers.

Severus walked through the doors with a vibrantly purple and black eye. His hair fell over it, but it was impossible to hide.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “I’m just here to visit (Y/N).” 

Madam Pomfrey allowed him to walk past her, but continued to shake her head as she walked over to her healing potions on the side of the room, scanning through them for the appropriate one.

“What happened to you, Severus?” You asked, sitting up on the bed and immediately reaching your hand out to push his hair behind his ear. “That looks awful!”

“It’s nothing, (Y/N). Would you stop?”

He pushed your hand away as he sat on the bed next to you. 

“Was it them? Tell me, Severus.”

“Why don’t we just focus on you? You’re the one in the hospital wing after all.”

“So are you now, Mr. Snape,” Madam Pomfrey stated. “Sit still and look up.”

Madam Pomfrey applied a thick cream to Severus’ eye. The colors dissipated and the swelling went down until eventually the ailment almost completely disappeared. By the time Madam Pomfrey finished treating Severus, it was time for him to leave for his next class. He grabbed his books and began walking out of the hospital wing.

“Wait-” You called out, surprising even yourself. 

You collected you classwork before standing and making your way over to Severus.

“Are you leaving?” Madam Pomfrey asked, clearly contemplating whether to allow you to go.

“Yes, Madam. Thank you for everything,” You said before turning to a shocked Severus. “They know better than to mess with us when we’re together. Let’s go.”

[the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo]

The Plot Bunny is LOOSE

Please feel free to comment and let me know your thoughts or which one is your favorite.

I wanted to write a drabble tonight, but honestly, I'm too tired for my brain to focus and invest time into dialogue writing, etc...

-----

These are kind of prompt ideas, with a choose your own adventure ending? I don't know. It's my brain rambling, that much is certain.

Also, if anyone becomes inspired, please take any of these prompts/ideas and run with them.

Helmut Zemo x Reader

You are in the safe house at Riga, researching possible sites for the next attack by the Flag-Smashers and Zemo decides to join you on the couch and help with his knowledge of the area and what may be good targets.

You end up falling asleep against him.

He's caught by surprise that you would leave yourself so unguarded around him, and he's unsure of himself as it's been the first time someone has willingly and essentially cuddled up against him. So outwardly he may be tense, but internally, he's an emotional mess and is having an existential crisis on what to do.

He has never allowed himself to entertain the idea of ever letting someone get close to him since the passing of his family.

So. Does he silently remove you from your position and let you sleep on the couch alone, covering you with his coat?

Or does he give in and eventually fall asleep with you. Only to have Bucky and Sam discover the two of you fast asleep later on.

Because.....of course that would happen. Drama!

(I just love exploring Zemo's internal turmoil)

-----

Helmut Zemo x Reader

5 times you were un-expectantly trapped between a wall and Zemo and the 1 time you meant to be on purpose.

That's it. That's the prompt.

(I think this could be a fun fic to write re-telling certain events from TFATWS)

-----

Helmut Zemo x Reader

An earthquake hits Riga, trapping you, Zemo, Bucky and Sam in different parts of the city.

Who gets to you first?

This could be an interesting internal character study for Zemo as I believe it would cause him to relive the trauma of losing his family all over again. As we know he spent two days trying to find them after the events at Novi Grad. Maybe he's not even in a relationship with the reader yet, but realizes how much time he's wasted not expressing how he feels, so he scrambles to locate you and hope you aren't dead.

(This is a prompt, I might be tempted to write at some point)

-----

Helmut Zemo x Reader

Dr. Strange pays Sam, Bucky, Zemo and you a visit informing Sam he has to leave their universe and attempt to fix the multiverse mess that Loki has created. So he gives him an enchanted device should he need to get ahold of him.

The Cloak of Levitation is quite fond of you. Zemo unassumingly gets jealous.

(This is pure crack!fic. LMAO. Only because I would love him to throw a fit that only you are allowed to wear his clothes *cough* coat *cough* and he doesn't like the fact that the Cloak of Levitation keeps wrapping itself around you like your it's property.)

-----

Laszlo Kreizler x Reader

Laszlo asks you to go to the opera with him. At first you are quite touched Dr. Kreizler has asked you to be his companion for the evening, only to realize by intermission he is using you to attract attention from a wealthy aristocrat who may have ties to the killer.

Hurt by his underlying manipulation, you have an argument with him afterwards, raising doubts that you don't know whether there was a part of Dr. Kreizler that actually wanted you there with him genuinely or not because he never shared his plan with you. Too upset to let him explain, you storm off.

You roam the streets aimlessly and wind up in a part of town you aren't familiar with, not realizing you strayed so far from the opera house.

When you turn back you notice an abandoned building with the name Baxter written across it, which sparks recognition of possible locations the killer may be using to murder his victims before dumping them in various odd places around the city.

You thought about calling Dr. Kreizler to inform him of your findings, but you're too emotional and angry with him, so you decide to go snooping around the building on your own.

What happens to the reader? And does the reader make it back to Laszlo in one piece?

(A fic prompt I am also potentially intrigued to write, but haven't had time)

-----

Niki Lauda x Reader

You are a long time friend of Niki's. You don't work for his team, but you show your support whenever he's close enough for you watch him race.

You strike up a friendship with James Hunt, much to Lauda's dismay. He doesn't show any jealousy, but obviously tries to steer you clear of Hunt knowing his reputation off the track. He sees him as reckless and dangerous.

Niki is unaware you have been in love with him for quite some time, but he never seemed to show any interest, so you kept your unrequited love to yourself.

It wasn't until you had to drag Lauda and Hunt back to the hotel they were staying at that started to shift how Niki really saw you.

You were being incredibly cautious with your new car and driving at the normal speed limit the road called for. Hunt was in the backseat arguing about how his grandmother could drive faster than you, and that they would never get back to the hotel in time to make a party he intended going to.

He may or may not have also invited you.

Lauda starts bickering with Hunt as he has no problems with driving at a reasonable speed back to the hotel.

You decide to shut them both up by showing off your own set of driving skills, which promptly caused all chatter in the car to cease.

You basically leave the boys speechless and get out of your car without so much as a passing glance to either one of them.

Hunt ends up being grateful and attempts to persuade you to attend the party with him, but you decline.

Niki, however has different plans in mind as you have left him impressed and slightly turned on at how well you maneuvered your car through the outskirts of the city, causing him to re-evaluate his feelings for you over time.

Where do we go from here?

(I kind of like this prompt. I'd like to think Niki would be obtuse to some degree and need some sort of action to jolt him out of his stupor having known you for so long. There are a lot of different directions this idea could go in.)

-----

That's it for now! If you've gotten this far, thank you for reading my silly rambles.

[vidalinav]

Nessian Headcanon #12: Family Edition

Since I keep seeing baby headcanons I wanted to make a list of my own :D which I’ve briefly touched on in other posts but...

Cassian and Nesta have a boatload of children (5 at the end of it all I think). The others start joking that they’re building their own army. But what really happens is that they end up taking in many children over the years because they travel often with the work they do and they see so many conditions and there’s wars and all sorts of circumstances. It’s inevitable that kids don’t have homes but they have a giant house and unending resources and the House is like a big nanny itself so they think it’s fate. 

Nesta is actually the one who brings most of the children home. The first one is a 9 year old girl, who is the angriest kid alive. Has something to do with the plot of a story I’m writing, but Nesta is basically entrusted with this kid. She’s the grand niece of someone she ends up knowing and she’s pretty magically powerful so her family would have ate her alive, so she’s asked to keep her safe and whatnot. Her name is Magda but she goes by Maggie. She does not like Cassian whatsoever in the beginning, and she is horribly rude to Nesta. But Nesta does not care at all, she’s like okay get it out, say worse. Like she’s so chill, because she knows how it feels to be that angry. Maggie and Nesta end up being really close to the point where Maggie does not like being away from Nesta and gets very protective of her even to other members of the IC. She’ll fight first and ask questions later. Cassian and her form a bond actually not by fighting at all, but because Maggie does so many experiments that end up going awry. She’s a fae and has got magic up the wazoo and she’s a book nerd, and she’s kind of a trouble maker, and Cassian thrives. He loves her because she’s like a smaller more diabolical version of Nesta. The House is amused by their antics usually. 

Nesta ends up getting pregnant for their second child and this kid is the only one they actually have on their own. Her name is Lyra, and Maggie thinks that it’s hilarious that Cassian lives in a house with all girls. Maggie is about 12 when they have her, and Maggie at first does not take kindly to Lyra, because she starts feeling like they have their own family and she’s just the kid who eventually is going to have to go back to her other family (because that’s a plot too that I won’t go into to) but they try so much to include her, because Maggie is their child. No question. Nesta ends up telling Cassian that she’s pregnant by giving him an enchanted painting, which is the work of all three Archeron sisters. Elain for seeing what the child would look like, Feyre for painting, and Nesta for enchanting it so that if they have more children the picture will get bigger and there will be room for Feyre to paint the others. So one big family portrait. In that picture, Maggie is tucked in between the two with the baby/toddler. Dark hair, big blue eyes... maybe hazel. Maybe one of each (I’m really not sure). The best parts of both Nesta and Cassian though. She’s so gorgeous. Prettiest little girl. But yeah going back to Maggie, they ask her during this picture time (probably solstice present time) if Maggie wants to be an Archeron. (Another headcanon for another time, but Cassian marries Nesta too and becomes an Acheron). So, does she want to do this? Absolutely, and at this point she already start calling them mom and dad and just referring to them as such, so that’s their kiddos. 

Third and fourth are siblings. They’re from the continent. Maggie is 14, Lyra is close to 2. The siblings are brought by Nesta who is doing some thing that I cannot say because I have not made it up yet, but she finds them at the scene of a Massacre in hiding. The oldest is close to 6, the other is probably 1-ish. The oldest will not let them take the baby from her. The baby is a boy. They don’t speak the common tongue, which is any issue, but they hire a tutor to both talk to the little girl and then also to teach them ALL (everyone in their household) the language that the two siblings speak as well as teach them how to speak the common Prythrian language. So everyone ends up learning. The little girl is taken under the wing of Maggie, who is the perfect older sister/camp counselor as she likes to refer to herself after there’s more kids. They don’t know her name for the LONGEST time, because she won’t speak at all, but she ends up loving Cassian because he makes her laugh and he brings her a thousand stuffed bears because at one point she won’t stop crying and he brings them home and makes funny voices with them, and carries her on his shoulders, and she has the sweetest giggle. But eventually they end up naming her Ursella which she ends up going by Ella when she gets older, because her nickname with Cassian is little bear. They do ask her later when she talks if she remembers her old name and her birthday since they don’t know, but she doesn’t say that she does, which may be a lie, but Ella happily goes by Ella, and they give her a choice to choose one random day in the year to be her birthday, but she chooses to celebrate her birthday on the day they brought her in. She calls it her re-birthday.

The baby boy they name Nico. It’s actually a common Illyrian name and Cassian knows that the little boy is technically not Illyrian but it is his first son, and he really wants to give him that piece of him. Cassian does ask him when he’s about 10 if he’d prefer a name that’s based on his own culture, because they make sure that’s very integrated in their home life, because of course Cassian loves his culture and Nesta has that anthropological eye, so she knows and learns so much and they just love their children so much that they want all of them, every piece that they come with. But Nico likes his name, and he’s his dads through and through. But he LOVES Nesta. He’s a momma’s boy for sure, which I guess just makes him similar to Cassian. He does not like learning though, so Nesta usually has to teach him herself instead of having tutors, and she spends extra time with him going through his lessons. Lyra and him grow up together closer to age, so they pick on each other A LOT, but ultimately they grow up to have that relationship like I can pick on you but no one else can. They’re super close. If you want one, you find the other. They both will be together somewhere making a mess of things. Ella is the one who usually is like would you please be loud somewhere else. She ends up getting into music--playing instruments and so she generally prefers quietness to study and practice. Violin is her forte. 

The next boy comes about 4 yrs later. Maggie is 18, Lyra is 6, Nico is 5/6 ish. Ella is 10. The boy is about 12. He’s Illyrian and Cassian finds him this time and takes him to Nesta first, but Nesta is like why are you asking lol this is our new son. He’s a “bastard” unfortunately. I hate that word. But he has learned to fight, Cassian found him in the fighting pits in an Illyrian camp a couple hours away from Windhaven, and the situation was so much like his except this kid was never given a home like he was. So, he spent a good couple of weeks trying to get on his good side enough for him to trust him and to want to go someplace safer and warm. He hates Cassian a lot at first... while at the same time being like you’re the hero I’ve heard about. So admiration but also a touch of resentment and anger at the world. Cassian doesn’t know what to do with that, because still to the day he does not handle emotion like Nesta does. He understands it but he doesn’t know what to say, what to do, his go to is always training, but training is not what this child needs. So again, this is Nesta’s forte. Interestingly enough, she’s very gentle with kids. She’s empathetic, soft, but not condescending. She gives everyone the same respect so it helps a lot when he sees that and he’s never had a mom before who tucks him in or makes sure he’s feeling well. His name is Julian. I forgot that part and it turns out he’s HATES fighting. But he really likes plants. So he ends up spending a lot of time with Elain when she visits. He’s fascinated by them and ends up having his own garden. But because Nesta is magical in this headcanon (because she’s more witchy in my fics) he learns A LOT about poisons. Not because Nesta teaches him, but because he finds her books and reads them and starts growing them. This becomes a problem, because when Julian doesn’t like his tutors or teachers, he starts trying to poison them. Like not killing them, but he knows which will give stomach aches, which will give rashes. Nesta is both proud and reprimanding. 

I do feel like they might have more, but I don’t know for now I feel this is good for their set family. Five in total for their first gaggle of children lol. But all of them are asked if they want to be an Archeron. All of them say yes. All of them have each other’s back even if they have screaming matches on the daily. The house is mostly chaotic at all times but the House loves having people in it and laughing and being filled to the brim with stuffed animals and train sets and plants and music and family members coming in and out since Nyx visits often because he’s an only child for a very long time with Feyre taking more of a position in court rulings and Rhysand just being generally busy because you know High Lord/High Lady stuff. I don’t see Feyre being a stay at home mom but I also don’t see Rhys being a stay at home dad, but they’re also rulers so I peg them for both being working parents, which they feel guilty about A LOT at first, and it’s something that they struggle with in the confines of their own identities and their relationship, because they love Nyx and they know they’re parents but that’s not all they are, and without having the gender role of one parent staying home it’s very difficult for them to both rule, but Rhys does not want to stop being a high lord and Feyre is bored too often and she wants to rule and she knows she can, and she has that title for a reason and wants to utilize it. So it’s a hard time, with lots of arguments, but Nyx ends up mostly going with Cassian for a good amount of the day when he’s older and they have more kids in the house, and Nyx doesn’t really know that Feyre and Rhys had this problem, because he’d just prefer to be around the other kids and it ends up working really well. 

Cassian ends up being more of the stay at home parent. I don’t know why but I feel he just gives me that vibe where forget the courtier business, if there’s no war and if the armies are generally taken care of which he does, he wants to stay home and raise his kids, which is very surprising since he’s the one who doesn’t ever take vacations. He wants to be there for every moment no matter how awkward or loud. That’s his family and he’s waited so long for them, and it’s not even about him not having that family early on, it’s because he genuinely would rather be with his kids. He’s the one who as soon as they got the siblings was like I’m going to have to take a step back, because he saw his kids every day but he just didn’t want to be away for long periods of time, and at that point he’d already taken several steps back on working, so it became more of a done deal then. He still is the general, but he gives more responsibility to Devlon and to other people he’s trained over the years to step up. So generally, Cassian will work a couple of days a week for a couple of hours or just go quickly in the evenings, go over reports if the kids are in class with their teachers, and more during certain times of the year, but he’s generally more of a family man. 

Nesta in my fic/headcanon ends up being a queen as well as a leader of the witches and the founder/leader of the Valkyrie and she owns a shipping company and she’s the cauldron’s guardian which don’t ask me to explain, it’s in this fic I’ve barely written. But she’s a “I can bake the cake and eat it too” type of person to me, and because of her magic it is easy for her to do it all because it’s like a full time job. She goes home after a certain hour and she’s back with her kiddos, and most of her jobs have other people who have a handle on things as well. So she’s not an island, but she loves having the purpose and the drive, because as much as she did like being in the library and being in Velaris and having that day to day slice of life, she likes and yearns for adventure. She’s a go-getter and is not necessarily ambitious for power, but she’s got the whole world to discover and she can have anything she’s willing to work for. She wants to be and see it all. Cassian is endlessly proud of her and is like that’s my mate, my wife. My mate. My wife. And they both end up getting what they want without having to sacrifice their own ideals. Their marriage is a collaboration and it ends up working phenomenally for the two of them and their children. 

But ultimately it’s really the House that makes it possible. Because who cooks food and cleans and supplies every need and wish and whatnot? The House. Who baby proofs? The House. The House is like I’ve always wanted a big family and boy does it get a big family. 

[hearts-hunger]

ciryc ca'tra (cold night sky): chapter two || din djarin x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

chapter one

Series Summary: When you crash-land on a frozen planet on your way to Trask, you and Din work together to keep the Crest afloat and keep your little family safe under the cold night sky. || Part One of Jate’kara (Lucky Stars)

Chapter Summary: Despite your worries and the work to be done, you and Din take a breather to lean on each other. But on this frozen planet, you quickly realize that neither of you can afford to let your guard down. 

Pairings: Din Djarin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Hurt/comfort, fluff, angst

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: None!

A/N: I have to say I’m jut as flattered as can be by the generous and kind responses that chapter one of this series received. I’m so happy you guys are enjoying it! I’m planning around two or three more chapters for this fic, and if there’s any interest, maybe another episode rewrite with our sweet wife!reader character. I hope you enjoy this chapter! ♡

You ate with little regard for what you were actually tasting - it was nearly frozen anyways, and the things in the very back of your storage shelves were always the highly nutritive but relatively tasteless rations. They worked in a pinch, and you and Din had had your fair share of them in his bounty hunter days, but since then you’d made it a point to provide your family with balanced, flavorful meals with as much fresh produce as you could get your hands on. You felt that your husband’s current mood could be significantly improved by something warm and hearty to eat, and wished there was something you could do to ease his frustration.

As it was, Din took his dinner upstairs so he could take off his helmet and look for a missing tool while he was at it. You collected the empty plates when the baby and the frog lady had finished, and bumped into your husband on your way to put them back in storage.

“Just me,” you called before you rounded the corner, not wanting him to have to go through the trouble of quickly putting his helm back on. You saw he had been about to, but set the helmet back down on the shelf he was leaning against.

“Did you find what you needed?” you asked, unconsciously avoiding looking in his direction. Even after all this time, you still had to overcome the tiniest bit of awkwardness to look at him without his mask, especially if you weren’t there when he took it off. It felt a bit like walking in on him undressing - not unwelcome, but perhaps a moment where he had wanted privacy even from his wife and one that made you want to ask for permission to look.

“No,” he said. “It was a long shot anyways. I haven’t used it in ages, and it’s probably either stuck somewhere I’d never find it or long gone.”

He watched you put the dishes in the sink, running a little bit of water over them - the pipes were nearly frozen, and only a small stream of water came from the faucet.

“We should keep it running a little,” you said, setting the dishes to dry. “That way, maybe the pipes won’t freeze over completely.”

He hummed in agreement. Then, “Cyar’ika. Look at me.”

You did as he said, turning from the sink to meet his eyes. He gave you a smile, gentle and amused.

“Still gets you sometimes, hm?”

You blushed. “Sometimes.”

He brought his plate over to the sink and stood close to you, studying you with those warm brown eyes always so full of kindness. 

“I remember how you could barely look at me on our wedding night,” he said, his voice fond at the memory. “You were so embarrassed; you kept apologizing, stammering and blushing like you’d done something wrong.”

You smiled too, recalling how patient he’d been with you. “I felt like I had,” you said, in defense of your younger self. “As much as I wanted to see you, I had spent so long looking away if you needed to take your helmet off that I felt guilty for looking that night.”

You reached up to brush back his curls. “I’d spent our entire courtship wondering what you looked like,” you said, now freely looking over his beloved features. They had been so beautiful but so new to you that night, like a gift you’d been admonished not to open and suddenly had given to you, and you hadn’t quite known if you were allowed to have it yet.

“And you were so horrified by what you saw that you couldn’t stand the sight of me,” Din teased, his smile on your cheek as he kissed it gently. “Tried to figure out a way to get out of marrying me.”

You laughed at the utter absurdity of it, putting your arms around his neck and letting him hold you close. He had been the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen, with those dark eyes and his messy curls and his gentle smile. Every time he took off his helmet, you remembered how enchanted and lovesick you’d been on your wedding night and felt like you were a new bride all over again, seeing your husband for the first time.

“Too bad I’ve been stuck with you all this time,” you teased. “And now we have a baby... I just can’t seem to get rid of you.”

He chuckled as he nosed against your jaw. “Not even if you tried, riduur.”

You loved it when he called you that - wife, in his native tongue, a remembrance of your love-bond, your marriage vows. You let him hold you for a moment, comforted by how solid and steady his beskar felt and warmed by his kisses on your face.

“Come down when you can,” you said softly. “It’s lonely without you.”

He smiled. “You have the baby.”

“And he’s much too busy looking at those eggs to care about his mother.”

He huffed a laugh. “Yeah, we need to keep an eye on that.” He pulled away from you, but not before giving you one last kiss.

“I’m going to try one more place to find that tool,” he said. “If it’s not there, it’d probably best that we all just... try and get some rest.”

You could hear the weight of your predicament bleed back into his voice, but you tried to be cheerful.

“Go look and see,” you said. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and find it.”

He started to smile before he put the helmet back on, and you knew he still had a wry quirk to his mouth under the beskar.

“Maybe,” he agreed.

You came back down to the first level to see your foundling happily babbling away to the frog lady, who was returning his chatter with gentle croaks you could only describe as motherly. You smiled to yourself as you set about trying to make comfortable sleeping arrangements; Din had said he wanted to sleep outside of your bunk just as a precaution, in case the patching came undone or there was some unwelcome intrusion. You thought any sort of creature who lived on such an inhospitable planet would not be one you wanted to meet, and you appreciated your husband’s foresight in being where he could most readily protect those in his care.

As warm as your bunk would be, you didn’t really like the idea of sleeping without your husband beside you - it had been a long time since you’d slept alone. But you knew he would insist, and so you made up the bunk with as little as you could in order to give Din the extra blankets.

He came down without the tool he’d been searching for, as both of you had guessed he would, and made a quick check of the space before turning to the three of you.

“If you hadn’t guessed, we’re in a tight spot,” he said, mostly to the frog lady. He sounded discouraged and tired. “The main power drive is not responding, and the hull has lost its integrity. I suspect the temperature will drop significantly when night falls.”

He paused and looked around the ship, the one he’d called home long before you and the baby had, and you felt a wave of grief on his behalf.

“In the morning, I can have a better look at the outside of the ship,” he continued. “I’ll have a better idea of our prospects at that time.”

You saw the baby give a great big yawn for such a little thing, and picked him up to take him to bed. Din leaned down to touch his helm to your head and brush a gloved hand over the baby’s ear, a silent wish for good sleep and pleasant dreams for both of you, and hunkered down onto the makeshift pallet on the ship’s floor.

The frog lady started to croak a little frantically, and you looked over as you tucked the baby in. You could read the exhaustion and confusion in Din’s body language as he tried to parse what she was saying, but eventually he shook his head.

“I’m sorry, lady, I don’t understand frog,” he said tiredly. “Whatever it is, it can wait until morning. I recommend you get some sleep.”

Din crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall, looking far from comfortable, but you knew he’d fallen asleep in a soldier’s slump like that more times than he could count. You climbed into bed and tucked the baby against your side, singing a very soft lullaby to him that Din had taught you.

“Ka’ra laararir gar jate ca,” you sang. The stars sing you goodnight. You brushed a finger over his ear and he curled close to you, giving a sleepy coo as he closed his eyes and listened to your voice. You kissed his head before you laid your own head down. You listened to the faint sound of Din’s gentle snores through his modulator, and your own exhaustion quickly caught up to you as you lay with your baby in your arms.

-

“Wake up, Mandalorian.”

You jolted awake at the horrible voice, immediately moving your body to shield the baby before you even knew what the danger was. You saw Din with his blaster drawn, aimed across at the droid slung up in parts on the wall; his whole body was tense, fearful, angry. Your heart raced in your chest as you waited in silence for him to tell you what to do, explain what was going on.

“This cannot wait until morning,” the droid said, its lifeless, metallic voice filling the ship. You hated that droid, and had begged Din countless times to get rid of it. You had thought he would be even more keen than you to be rid of it, considering his distrust of droids, but it had stayed hung up on the wall in a tangle of broken parts and frayed wires. In the past you had mitigated the unease it brought you by reminding yourself that it was basically scrap metal, and you were filled with horror at the thought that it had now somehow come to life and started speaking.

“Do not be alarmed,” it continued, though it had the opposite effect. “I bypassed the droid’s security protocols and accessed its vocabulator.”

Only then did you notice the frog lady, who was standing by the droid holding a comlink that connected to the droid’s head through a long, snaking wire. Was she speaking through the droid?

Your husband seemed to come to the same realization, and after a glance your way to make sure you were alright, he put his blaster away. His shoulders retained their tense wariness, and his voice was strained with a panicked sort of ire.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded. His chest plate rose and fell with his deep, unsteady breaths, and you knew he was still shaken up by the fright of being woken by the droid’s voice.

“That droid is a killer,” he said, and you could not mistake the bitterness and hatred in his voice. You wished you could comfort him, somehow, but knew he would feel more at ease with you and the baby at a safe distance from the droid, even if it was only the frog lady speaking through it.

“These eggs are the last brood of my life cycle,” the droid - or the frog lady - said. You could hear her croaking under the ringing sound of the droid’s voice. “My husband has risked his life to carve out an existence for us on the only planet that is hospitable to our species. We fought too hard and suffered too much to resign ourselves to the extinction of our family line. I must demand that you hold true to the deal that you agreed to.”

She fell silent and waited for Din to speak, as did you. You understood her fears and empathized with her need to insist upon help - you’d challenge a Mandalorian too, if your baby’s life depended on it. But you also understood how very slim your chances truly were on this frozen planet, and you didn’t know what could be done that hadn’t been done already, unless Din was willing to put himself and the ship at even greater risk for the chance of repair.

Din sighed. “Look, lady, the deal is off,” he said, and you were reminded of how brusque he’d been before you really got to know him, and how that same bluntness tended to resurface when he was stressed. “We’re lucky if we get off this frozen tomb with our lives.”

The frog lady stood her ground. “I thought honoring one’s word was a part of the Mandalorian code,” the droid said for her. “I guess those are just stories for children.”

You bit your lip, feeling her words like a wound, and you were sure Din felt it even more than you did. Din was trying - he wouldn’t break a promise if he could help it. His honor as a Mandalorian, as a man, meant everything to him. You knew Din had been wrestling with feelings of uselessness and incompetence since the checkpoint with the New Republic pilots had gone bad, and you knew how much he hated not being able to fix everything and protect everyone and make good on every single one of his promises. He was a Mandalorian, and if couldn’t fix things, he didn’t deserve the beskar he wore. 

At least, that was his thinking, and you knew without a shadow of a doubt that the frog lady’s accusations were only making that clearer to him. You wanted to defend him, but you didn’t know what you’d say; you also knew that even if Din would have appreciated your support, he was perfectly capable of fighting his own battles. So, out of respect for his dignity and with confidence in his good sense, you waited for him to act.

He stood and grabbed his toolbox.

“This wasn’t part of the deal,” he said, though you knew his voice better than anyone and could tell it was more tiredness and frustration with himself than any malice directed at her. He cast a glance your way, and you nodded to tell him you and the baby were alright, that he didn’t need to worry about you on top of everything else. He gave a brief nod back and lifted the tarp to head out into the unforgiving cold.

Read chapter three!

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let me know if you’d like to be added to either taglist! ♡

[missdawnandherdusk]

A Silent Night

Hufflepuff!Reader X Draco

Am I allowed to look at her like that? Could it be wrong When she's just so nice to look at?

I'd never tell No, I'd never say a word And oh, it aches But it feels oddly good to hurt

Chapter One     Chapter Two    Chapter Three

Summary: Winter break promises soft moments in the snow and laughter... or does it? There’s a darkness looming ahead and it’s harder to escape now than ever before. It doesn’t help at all with how you two feel about another.

A/N: Alright! Y’all told me to follow my heart so here’s about 7k words of a winter holiday that has fluff and angst. Also She by Dodie was on repeat as I wrote this (the lyrics are above). If you’re like me and need music to read, give that song a shot. Also I 100% stan Narcissa in this chapter. There were a lot more cute moments I wanted to add, and rewrote a lot of this, so if you want a headcanon list of things that were going to happen let me know! (Welcome to Christmas in the middle of the summer)

~

Miss Y/n,

It delights me that you have invited us to your home for the holiday. Draco speaks adamantly about you whenever his father is not around. I must apologize for having him keep you from his father’s knowledge. I know it pains him to have to keep you hidden, but I fear at the moment it is for the best.

I must thank you for your understanding and kindness. The burden that he bears is steep and I wish nothing more to see him through it and to keep him safe. You have taken years off of his eyes and heart and now I can begin see my young son shining through.

Draco and I will accompany you for the holiday. Lucius will be away all of the winter holiday and I feel as if it would do Draco some good to see you as it aided him over the summer holiday. I have written a letter to your mother as well, so she is aware. Draco will arrive in the morning of the 24th and I shall join him later in the evening for dinner.

You are a bright and wonderful young wizard with a heart so pure to see what I see in my son. The same thing that keeps us both fighting for him. Thank you for everything you have given. I am in your debt for bringing back my son even for a little while.

Narcissa Malfoy

~

I read the letter again as I sat in bed late at night. Tomorrow would be the day that Draco came for Christmas and butterflies had a permanent residence in my chest. I put the energy to good use and spent the few days scrubbing the entire house top to bottom and decorating every square inch. Mother taught me a few new cleaning spells to use and I was getting pretty good at them.

The morning came and I was up before the sun making sure that everything was perfect for when Draco would get here. Not that I thought he would judge me for anything out of place, but I had a sinking feeling that he hadn’t had a proper Christmas in a while, and I wanted things to be almost perfect if not completely.

Keeping myself busy with peeling and cutting apples for a pie, I heard the doorbell ring and almost tripped on my way to opening it.

Draco was there, an amused smile on his face as his eyes darted over my form.

“Hi,” I breathed out, grinning.

“Hello,” His expression was amused and his voice quiet. “Nice apron,”

I flushed, remembering I donned my grandmothers cooking apron that had tiny little snitches buzzing about the fabric.

It wasn’t fair that he looked so angelic on my front porch, almost at home among the snow. He was a bit more formal than I was used to seeing him: a blazer and turtleneck all in dark colors. It only enhanced the contrast of his pale features and the snow. I led him inside, closing the door. Shedding his jacket and setting down his bag, he followed me to the kitchen where I continued to chop apples. He took one, unpeeled from my pile and took a bite.

“Those are mine,” I baited. “Now you have to help,” As if it were the only option.

“Oh, I do? Do I?” He smirked, taking another bite and grabbing a knife.

He watched me for a moment, as if he wasn’t sure what to do before he began to slice the apples the way I did, narrowly missing his fingers a few times. I tried hard not to laugh as I finished chopping up two to his half of one.

It earned me a small pout from him. Laughing this time, I pecked his cheek and took our harvest and a large bowl filled with the rest of the filling ingredients and tossed them in, mixing them with my hands until they were all incorporated evenly. Draco studied me all the while.

“Can you hand me a pie crust from the fridge?” I asked, rinsing my hands. Frowning at the refrigerator he opened it and scanned the shelves.

“Middle shelf, blue ceramic,” I hinted.

He pulled the right dish out and set it on the counter. I lifted the bowl of filling and started to pan it into the doughy crust.

“Here,” I nudged him and nodded to the precut strips of dough on the counter. “We weave them to make a lattice.”

I showed him how to do the first few then left him to it, watching his slender fingers with such care create the woven pattern. Taking a fork, I pressed down the sides of the dough, sealing them then placing the pie in the fridge to be baked later.

“I think that was the most muggle thing I’ve ever done,” he muttered softly, pulling me into his arms properly for the first time since he arrived.

“Not too bad I hope?”

“Nothing unbearable,” he teased.

“Oh, Draco,” my mother greeted making us jump apart. “I didn’t hear you come in darling,”

“Mrs. Y/l/n,” Draco greeted politely.

“It’s so nice of you to join us. Y/n has hardly been able to keep quiet about your arrival,”

I flushed red and rolled my eyes nonchalantly and Draco chuckled, offering his hand for my mother to shake.

“Thank you for the invitation,” I recognized the tone he use: the same one that was present at the Ball from the summer, the one he used when he had someone to impress.

“None of that, really,” My mother scoffed pulling him into a hug that made me laugh. “You’re family here,” She insisted the turned to me. “Well cookies still need to be made before tonight, Y/n you know what to do. I’ll be out for a bit,” my mother gave me a hug before hurrying out the door.

“Cookies?” Draco mused sounding unsure.

I grinned and took out the ingredients to make sugar cookies from scratch and taught Draco how to make them. He padded around my small kitchen in cashmere socks. It warmed my heart to see him so domestic.

Rolling out the dough, I started to press the cookie cutters into the thin confectionary and Draco crowded next to me, taking another cutter and stamping the dough. Preheating the oven, I left him to cut out the little shapes as I began to work on peeling potatoes and sweet potatoes.

“Don’t you have house elves?” He asked, leaning against the counter, finishing his apple, watching me.

“No,” I spoke softly. “Father never liked the notion, and I guess mother kept it that way...” I took a breath in. “And these skills aren’t the worst things to know,” I smiled. “Will you start dicing these?” I gestured to the peeled potatoes with my peeler.

“I suppose,” He mused, picking up the same knife we had used for apples and began to cut the potatoes into small cubes.

When the oven went off, I got up and slipped as many trays of cookies as I could into the oven and set the timer. Throwing the cubed potatoes into a pot, I filled it with water about half-way and set it on the stove to boil.

Draco followed me around the kitchen all morning, helping where he could, confused about some things I did, but there was an explanation for everything. Around lunchtime my mother returned, arms filled with parcels and packages. Last minute shopping I supposed. She shooed us out of the kitchen and outside after lunch.

After a short argument—I didn’t see a need for things like gloves, a scarf or a beanie, but Draco put his foot down and bundled me up—Draco and I were both clad in winter gear and walking outside along the few acres that my mother and I shared together. Our hands intertwined; we didn’t speak much, just enjoyed the quiet moment together. The butterflies in my chest fluttered happily.

“Want to let Pinnae fly?” He asked, thoughtful.

“Maybe later,” I leaned against him. “Don’t wanna fly when you’re still on the ground,”

I caught his eyeroll in the corner of my vision and the redness on his cheeks darken slightly.

“My mother is quiet taken with you; you know.” Draco gave off-hand.

I hummed in acknowledgement thinking of the letter sitting on my bedside table. We meandered around the grounds, heading back to the front porch and inside to warm up.

“Reading anything riveting?” Draco teased as we curled up in the den by the fire.

I laughed softly and stood, taking his hand. I ignored his questioning and led him to the room adjacent from mine: my studio. The entire back wall was covered in floor to ceiling bookshelves holding all of the books, both muggle and wizarding, I had collected over the years.

_________________________________

Draco stared at the wall of books and trinkets. Some he recognized: old textbooks from prior years and items like a Sneakscope and Timeturner. Some things were clearly muggle: the pictures that didn’t move or the snow-globes that weren’t enchanted.

He had never seen so many muggle books resting so peacefully next to wizarding books. Some were new and the gold leaf still shined at him whereas others were dull and faded and he could barely make out the titles. Carefully he ran his fingers over the spine of the nearest book.

“Pride and Prejudice?” He muttered, frowning looking at the cluster of Jane Austen books.

“Sense and Sensibility is better,” You mumbled, and his eyes flickered to the well-worn book beside its sister. “And it’s too complicated for me to try and pay attention to right now. Get out of Jane Austen,” You advised, pulling him a bit further down.

“Of Mice and Men?” He mused, looking at the smaller book that was also well worn. 

“Ugh,” You scoffed. “Awful ending.”

“Then why are you keeping it?” He gave you a pointed look.

“Not all books have happy endings, it would be stupid to only keep the ones that did,” You whispered softly.

His eyes followed the names of the books not being able to distinguish one from another— Animal Farm, The Princess Bride, Catcher in the Rye, Lord of the Flies, The Great Gatsby, The Scarlett Letter, The Crucible, The Phantom of the Opera, Fahrenheit 451. His eyes passed over your Chronicles of Narnia collection, one book missing—the one that he had.

“Romeo and Juliet?” His eyebrows furrowed.

The name was familiar to him for some reason. The book nested between Taming of the Shrew and Macbeth.

A laugh bubbled through your lips, a quiet amused sound.

“That’s worse than Pride and Prejudice,” You giggled. “Have you ever read Shakespeare?”

His eyes flashed to yours. You knew that answer. No, of course he hadn’t. Rolling your eyes, you took the book of the shelf and flipped to a random page of the wellworn book.

“Tis but thy name that is my enemy;

Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. 

What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, 

Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part 

Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! 

What's in a name? that which we call a rose 

By any other name would smell as sweet;”

You looked at him and he blinked, his mind unravelling the words. It was almost worse than Divination books.

“They’re plays,” You explained. “Takes a lot of studying and there are versions that have a bit more updated English, but well,” You shrugged and slipped the book back into its place.

“Are they all like that?” He asked, looking at the row of Shakespeare books.

“Pretty much,” You sighed. “Here,” You reached across him and next to your Austen books, pulled out a book. “This should be a good book to read.”

“A Christmas Carol?” He read the title off the faded cover.

“It’s a classic,” You took his hand again and he let you lead him downstairs and back to the small sitting room with the lit fire and curled up on the couch under an afghan.

You began to read A Christmas Carol, and again he was lost in your words and expressions:

“Marely was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it. And Scrooge’s name was good upon ’Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to.

Old Marley was as dead as a doornail.

Mind! I don’t mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a doornail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country’s done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as a doornail”

Just as you began to read of the first ghost that came to Scrooge on Christmas Eve, your mother came into the small den.

“Y/n, Draco’s mother will be here within the hour, you need to get ready,” She eyed your casual attire of jeans and an oversized sweater.

You huffed and handed Draco the book, he kept the page and watched you head upstairs, sulking only slightly. It was such a you thing to do—complaining about being taken away from your book and forced to prepare to socialize.

Your mother hovered in the den and took a seat at the armchair adjacent to the sofa he resided on. He tensed, ready for backlash against the something he must have done wrong, but an amused smile reached your mother’s lips—one that he had seen on you more than a fair share of times. You didn’t look much like your mother, the only thing Draco found was that you two shared the same smile.

“I have to thank you Draco,” She spoke softly. “She is my entire world since her father passed, and I always feared that she would never let herself open up. You have done her a lot of good, and I know that her father would approve of you,” There was your smile on her lips again.

“I must thank you as well,” Draco spoke in the same soft manor. “For allowing her to be with me and for Pinnae. I know she probably would have found a way to do it anyway, but it means the world to her to have your support, as it does to me,” His eyes met the same shade as your eyes as he looked up—another similarity. “And I must apologize for the last month of summer. I thought I was keeping her safe by keeping her away,”

“All is forgiven, darling,” The pet name on your mother’s lips reminded him of his own mother’s habit. “Merlin knows I’ve tried to keep her from things to keep her safe... but she has a way of finding herself there anyway,”

“She is stubborn like that,” Draco mused, thinking of the first night that he knew of your Animagus.

“Yes, she is,” Your mother sighed.

“Is she staying healthy?” He asked. “I know she has a habit of not keeping warm,” 

Your mother mulled over the question then spoke.

“The winter has been affecting her more than before, she’s up half the night and sleeps half the day.” There was a soft sigh in her voice as worry blossomed in Draco’s chest at the new information. “She’s getting enough sleep and enough to eat, but I do worry about her. Ever since the change, she’s a bit more spontaneous in her sleeping habits.” The latter information pacified some of his worry.

“It’ll probably take some time for her to figure out,” He said mostly for his benefit. “But she won’t be alone in doing so,” He vowed.

“I know,” Your mother rose, smiling at him once more. “She might not have many friends, but the ones she does have are the most loyal I’ve ever seen,”

He nodded, thinking of Abby and even Pansy.

There was a chime from in the house and your mother rose heading to the foyer. Draco knew that it would be his mother at the door and stood as well. Greetings were made and just as your mother was about to call up to you, you descended the stairs, in a deep green dress he had never seen before. The fabric hugged you to your waist where it then flowed loosely to you knees. The long sleeves and high collar gave him comfort that you would be warm. The sheer black stockings you had paired with the dress seconded that comfort.

Draco gaped at you, deciding that he loved you in green. The night of the summer ball flashed in his mind and the green dress you wore then. He knew that it was stupid to give into house colors with you but Merlin you looked great in Slytherin colors.

“Mrs. Malfoy,” You greeted with the same decorum as the Ball.

“Miss Y/n,” His mother smiled. “It has been too long my dear,”

You flushed and looked down, coming to stand beside him, your hand slipping into his as your mother led the lot of you all into the dining room. It was just as immaculately decorated as the rest of the house, though nothing was overdone or gaudy. It was simple, classy.

Your mother must have taken over cooking to allow you to spend the rest of the day with him, explaining the heavenly smells that emitted from the kitchen all day. There was something different about the food at your home. It was a bit messy and not all of the dishes matched and not everything was perfect, but Draco almost preferred it that way. He had spent too long in perfection; it was nice to have something new.

His mother spoke respectfully to you, asking you about your classes this year and how they had gone. A few times he had to nudge you before you slipped up about Pinnae accidently. Draco would never get over how much his mother absolutely adored you. You had stolen into her heart the same way you had his. If only you could do the same with his father.

As dinner ended, you rose to clear the table, and he joined you, having never done such a thing in his life. You set things carefully on the clean counters of the kitchen and it only took a few trips to rid the table of dinner and replace it with dessert.

__________________________________

I kept my eye on Draco all throughout dinner, worried that something might go wrong. Narcissa proved to be no trouble and his father was never in the topic of discussion. I still knew that Draco missed his father the same way that I missed mine on the holidays.

“Well, I must thank you for your hospitality, but I’m afraid I must be off now,” Narcissa rose gracefully with a kind smile. “Draco, be home before too long yes?”

Draco gave a curt nod as my mother saw Narcissa to the door. Draco slumped beside me, both of our facades falling.

“Well, that could have been worse,” I mused.

He chuckled and rubbed his face. I could see the weariness in his features.

“Dray?” I asked softly.

“When did everything get so complicated?” He mumbled.

I sighed and laid my head on his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and wrapped an arm around me.

“At least there’s presents? And Christmas? And us?” I offered. He hummed in acknowledgment.

Now that it was the Christmas season, I could officially watch The Sound of Music—a Christmas classic at home.

Draco studied me as I set up the DVR and hit play, curling up beside him on the couch. Since it was winter, the sun had set some time ago, leaving us in a soft darkness. The credits began to roll, and I laid my head on Draco’s shoulder, curling under an afghan.

“This is ridiculous,” He muttered halfway through.

I shushed him. I felt him sigh as his arm draped around my shoulders.

“Are you two ready?” My mother asked, coming in with three mugs.

“Ready?” Draco murmured in my ear as I sat up.

“Presents?” I grinned. “We do them on Christmas Eve, it’s our tradition. Then we undecorate on Christmas Day.”

“What?”

“Her father always insisted that as soon as Christmas is over all the decorations should come down. So, we take them down tomorrow.” My mother explained, handing us both mugs.

With the parcels covered in shiny paper distributed, I watched Draco marvel at the number of gifts in his lap. I nudged his shoulder letting him know that it was alright to start.

I started with my mother’s present to me—a new cloak that was a silvery white, matching Pinnae’s feathers. I thanked her and undid the recognizable paper from Abby’s gift. It was a leather-bound photo album. Frowning, I opened the cover and saw Abby and I as little kids dressed up as princesses. I smiled at the photo and ran my hand over the giggling girls. I looked over to Draco, wanting to show him and I paused; he was lost deep in the delicate pages of my gift to him: the entire Narnia collection in one leather bound book.

“It’s charmed,” I explained softly. “If it’s not me or you to open the book it reverts to an old book of spells,”

“Really?” He sounded surprised, not looking up from the carpet pages of finely detailed artwork. 

“Mom helped me with the magic,” I stole a glance her way and she was beaming at us.

She stood quietly and gave me a look, leaving us alone in the den to have a few last moments alone.

“You mean you didn’t read me the first book?” He muttered.

“Well, you walked in on me reading the second one,” I poked his side. “Here, this is from Abby,” I placed the photo album between us.

I opened the first page and he laughed at the picture of Abby and I. “You were such a dorky kid,” He chuckled.

“Yeah well,” I rolled my eyes.

The next page was our first day at Hogwarts, my hair was still impossibly long as Abby and I sat together on the Hogwarts Express. I laughed and pointed out Draco sulking in the background of the photo.

“Creep,” I teased.

The photos were a mix of muggle and magic, some moving, some static. Abby and I through the years: getting sorted into Hufflepuff, Christmases, summer vacations. Then there was a page that didn’t hold a photo, but a note:

From Ernie, Blaise, Hannah, Emme, Pansy and me~

The next page held a photo Draco and I at the third task, sitting in the stands. I felt secondhand awkwardness from the two of us in the photo. It was minutes before my entire world ended... or had just begun. The next photo was two of us in the hospital wing, fast asleep in each other’s arms. I ran my fingers over the photo.

Draco took the book from my hands and studied the photos, drawing the album closer to his face. I looked over his shoulder as he slowly flipped through the pages. Each of them was dated and titled:

Draco chasing off after Y/n, Yule Ball, June 21st

Draco and Y/n, Yule Ball, June 21st

Hogwarts Express, Draco and Y/n are prefects, Sept 1st

Draco staring at Y/n and smiling, Sept 13th

Draco and Y/n walking down the hall Sept 19th

Hogsmeade Trip, Oct 5th

Halloween, Hufflepuff Common Room, Oct 31st

Gryffindor v Slytherin Quidditch match, Nov 2nd

Draco fighting Harry, Nov 2nd

Y/n worrying over Draco after the fight, Nov 2nd

Draco and Y/n sleeping together again, Nov 3rd

Late night studying, Dec 12th

Draco and Pinnae, Dec 18th

There was another note at end along with the picture of the four of us the day Pansy found out about Pinnae in the snow:

Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times if one only remembers to turn on the light.

Tears well in my eyes as I rested my chin on Draco’s shoulder. He flipped a few pages back and untucked the photo of us sleeping together in the hospital wing. His slender fingers brushed over it before slipping it into the middle of his new book.

“That’s mine,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to his neck softly.

“Not anymore,” He smiled. “You have good friends,”

“We have good friends,” I corrected him softly, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“We do,” He shifted, closing the book and setting it with his before reaching into his coat and pulling out a small satin box. “This is from me,”

I stared at the box and with a shaking hand I took it, thumbing it open. Inside was a small locket with a shifting roaring lion engraved onto the front of it and familiar words onto the back:

“He isn’t safe, but he is good,” was written in a delicate script.

“Draco, I can’t take this,” I whispered, tears welling in my eyes at the emotions that rushed in my chest at the thought and love he put into the small gift.

“You can,” He pressed. “And will. Here,” He took it from my hands and released the locking mechanism.

A scene sprung to life before me, a halo of light. Balanced on top was a forest with dancing fawns and dwarves and centaurs around a bonfire. Lyre and flute music radiated from the scene. The sight shifted to a lion roaring atop a broken stone table. Then to a familiar ship on the high seas with a dragon circling it. A battle between a man and a snake in front of a silver chair. Then again, a lion, standing tall, proud.

“Draco,” I whimpered out, closing the locket and throwing my arms around his neck. “Thank you, thank you,” Tears fell down my cheeks as I buried my face in his shoulder.

His arms curled around me as he pulled me close.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen, or what the future holds,” He murmured. “But don’t give up on me.”

“Never,” I vowed. “Course he’s not safe,” I pulled away, running a hand through his hair. “But he is good. He is king,” My fingers softly stroked his cheek.

With the locket hung around my heck, Draco and I curled up together, watching the end the Sound of Music. My fingers toyed with the locket, rubbing over it again and again, afraid that it might just disappear.

I had to bid him a good night as the hour got later and we were together on the front porch alone. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I reached up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He responded immediately and pulled me close deepening the kiss, his hot breath mixing with mine. He tasted like tea and apple pie, a sweet intoxicating flavor.

Draco’s hand slipped down to the small of my back, pressing me against the warmth of his body. My fingers tangled and tugged at his hair earning a low throaty sound to emit from his chest. I responded with a soft mewl.

He pulled away, his hot breaths panting across my face. 

“Happy Christmas,” He breathed out.

“Mhmm,” I hummed out. “Christmas, yeah,”

He chuckled and pressed his lips back to mine fleetingly. 

“Goodnight, Feathers,”

“Night, Dray,”

 ___________________________________

Draco melted into his bed that night, watching the photo of you and him sleeping peacefully. There was an amity about the both of you, there was no worry or fear on his face and yours was smiling softly as you clung to him even in your sleep. It was almost as good as the book you had given to him.

Your mother’s present was lying beside him on the bed. He wasn’t supposed to show it to you, your mother had said: it was your father’s wand.

He sighed and looked at the note that came with it: 

~

Draco,

This was her father’s wand. She doesn’t know that I still have it. And she doesn’t know that it belongs to you as soon as you turn sixteen.

Lucius Malfoy killed Walter Y/l/n.

Lucius forfeited the wand, but it will respond to you. It has been a burden to me all of these years but perhaps it can find some peace with you. This is a secret that I share with you. This wand is unique: it knows to protect her, and it is loyal to you.

Keep her safe, I pass her and this wand to you, one Slytherin to another. You will always have a home in among this family.

~

He sighed and laid back in bed, twirling the wand in his hands. It was similar to his own in length. Birch with a unicorn hair. He wanted to be bitter towards your mother for keeping this secret from you, but the words she said earlier stopped him:

“Merlin knows I’ve tried to keep her from things to keep her safe...”

Was this keeping you safe? This secret that he now held? He knew that if nothing else, it had kept you a pure heart. He couldn’t imagine you’d ever give him a chance if you knew what his father did. He wondered what would have changed...

The morning came along with the small Christmas that he and his mother shared together. It was a quiet affair. He had gotten her a new bottle of ink and a golden quill for her drawings.

“This is from your father,” Her tone held disdain as she handed him a small velvet box. “It belonged to his father and now he passes it to you.”

Nested inside was nothing like the gift he had spent months making for you. Instead it was a weighty silver ring with the Malfoy crest on it. Slipping it onto his finger, the enchantment took place and resized to fit him perfectly.

“Any word of when he will return?” Draco asked, somber. 

“January 10th.” His mother sighed.

Draco nodded and drifted to the sitting room that held his piano and began to play familiar Christmas melodies before shifting into his mother’s favorites. She sat behind him on the sofa, working on her embroidery as he played. His melody shifted into something new. He frowned, knowing that it wasn’t anything that he had learned before.

“Composing?” His mother mused.

He didn’t comment. Instead he chased the melody that was fading from his mind, desperate to bring it back. Then he realized that his mind was chasing after you. You were his melody. With you at the forefront of his thoughts, he spent the next few days playing and writing the composition down. When he was certain that it was perfect and represented everything that you were to him, he smiled to himself.

Draco could still have you when his father was home. He would have no idea the melody was wrapped up in you.

“It’s beautiful,” His mother commended. “She’ll love it. You can play it for her tomorrow when she visits,”

And he did. With you sitting beside him on the piano bench, he played your song to you. You were absolutely mesmerized and asked him to play it again. Without knowing it, you had taken something else his father had forced him into and turned it into something beautiful.

Sitting in the rose garden as the stars came out, the year changed. A new beginning, and you were beside him. It was a muggle tradition, but he did kiss you when midnight came. Not that you’d complain.

When you pulled away from the gentle kiss, he about said something that he had forbidden himself from ever saying. No matter how sweet you were, how kind, how long you stayed, how loyal, no matter how much he cared for you, missed you when you were gone, and vowed to keep you safe, he couldn’t say what he wanted to.

He couldn’t tell you that he loved you.

He couldn’t trap you like that. He knew his future was dark and it loomed over him. He wasn’t going to tie you to him like that.

____________________________________

I held my tongue, a thousand confessions waiting to be unfurled. But I would wait. I would wait until Draco was ready to hear them. I didn’t let myself think that a few months would change everything that had him tied down and scared. I wouldn’t coerce him into anything. I would give him time to figure out his emotions and I would wait for him to heal.

Because I loved him.

And I would love him while I waited. I would love him while he healed. I would love him as he went through darkness and despair. I would love him as years of neglect and abuse untied him. I would love him until he was ready to love me.

So, I didn’t say a word.

I spent the next week over at Draco’s, like I had in the summer, but this time, we were working on spells. Everything that I had learned from D.A. I taught to him. His mother suggested to invite Pansy and Abby over as well during the afternoons to join our efforts.

It was a lot easier to cast Disarming and Stunning spells on Pansy and Abby than it had been on Draco. Narcissa joined us one afternoon, watching us, guiding and aiding where we were failing. Draco was losing focus too easily, Pansy needed to work on her wand movements, Abby needed to pronunciate more and I needed to put my heart behind wanting to perform the spells.

“You’re thinking about them incorrectly.” Narcissa stood behind me. “Think not about the intention to attack what’s in front of you, but to protect what’s behind you. Draco, come,”

Narcissa and Draco switched places, he was standing behind me and she was before me, her wand out and raised. I took a deep breath in, understanding what she meant. I had no ill will against her, but I would protect Draco.

We bowed, entering a proper duel. She cast a hex and I blocked it easily, before rebounding it with my own jinx. She deflected it effortlessly and almost knocked me down with a Stunning spell.

“Mean it Y/n!” She coached. “You want to protect him!? You want to save him!?”

“Mother!” Draco argued.

“No,” I panted softly. “I can do this. She’s right,”

I blocked her jinx that in my deflection almost hit Draco, who dropped out of the way thankfully. Enraged I turned back to her.

“Impedimenta!” I shouted. 

And it worked.

She was frozen in the snow. 

“Expelliarmus!”

Her wand flew from her hand. Beaming, I undid the Impediment Hex and picked up her wand which had landed in the frost by my feet.

“Very well, my dear,” Narcissa glowed. “There is a fighter in you yet,”

Draco picked me up in a twirling hug and Pansy and Abby were all cheering. We went back to dueling, now it was more for fun than work. Narcissa watched us still, encouraging and teaching us. Until she tensed, the color draining from her face.

“Bellatrix,” She hissed, vanishing from the backyard.

Draco cursed and grabbed my hand, pulling me behind the nearest shrub. With the cloak that my mother had given to me for Christmas, I almost blended in with the snow. Pansy and Abby were crouched down with us.

“Y/n, you need to get out of here,” Draco’s eyes were fixed on the house. “Now.”

“But what about Abby?” I squeaked.

“She’ll be fine,” Pansy nodded to me. “Bella likes me, she’ll be safe with me,” I met Pansy’s stark green eyes and an agreement passed between us.

Nodding, I tried to keep my breathing under control.

“Pinnae!” Abby whispered at me as if it were obvious. “Get out of here Y/n!”

I looked at my friends and closed my eyes, morphing into Pinnae and taking perch deep within the shrub.

“Don’t go until we’ve cleared the house.” Draco ordered.

I chirped and watched them all head towards the house, disappearing inside. Then I took off into the sky.

_____________________________

“Draco, darling,” Bellatrix cooed wickedly. “You remind me so much of your father,” 

“Aunt Bellatrix,” He greeted politely.

“Well, aren’t you going to introduce me to your little friends?” Her wild eyes flashed to Pansy and Abby.

“Bella,” His mother chided. “Draco was just seeing them off. And you know Parkinson. The other is a classmate.” Her voice left no room for more questions or argument.

His mother gave him a stern look and he quickly ushered Pansy and Abby through the front door. His eyes immediately scanned the skies for you. He thought he could make out your form perched on one of the barren trees, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Pansy,” He started.

“I’ve got it. Abby will talk to Pinnae. We’ll give word that she’s safe.”

Draco nodded and headed back inside, pacing the halls. He headed to his bedroom and slammed the door, casting a Silencing Charm on the room before letting out a roar of frustration. He didn’t know how much time passed as he paced the room but jumped when there was a chirp from his window.

He relaxed when he saw that the owl wasn’t you, but a screech owl, a letter tied to it’s ankle.

 ~ Malfoy,

Pinnae is home.

Parkinson

~

Draco sagged in relief and threw the letter into the fire lit in his hearth. Just once in his life he wanted a day where nothing would go wrong. He just wanted to be happy and safe with you. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently, it was for the last few days of the winter holiday. 

Epilogue:

“The Dark Lord is adamant about his recruitment,” Bellatrix purred. “A fine young mind to mold into the ways of the Dark Lord.”

“He is my son, Bellatrix.” Narcissa snarled. “He is not of age until the summer. When that time comes the choice belongs to him and him alone. Until then, you have no business here,” A cold glare passed between them.

“Do I sense disloyalty?” Bellatrix tilted her head, mocking a pout. “The Dark Lord does not tolerate disloyalty, sister mine,”

“I do not belong to the Dark Lord, sister mine,” Narcissa gritted out. “Or have you forgotten?”

“No,” She scoffed. “A foolish mistake. Who else deserves loyalty but him?” 

“My family,” Narcissa snapped. “And my son.”

“I am your family!” Bellatrix shouted. “Have you changed your mind about the war perhaps? Deciding to follow the footsteps of our dear sister? Or perhaps our outlawed cousin? You were admirable little sister, before you went off and married that foolish Malfoy.”

“I will not stand here and allow you to speak of my husband or my son in such a manner. You have no business here Bellatrix. Leave this place.” Narcissa’s tone was ice cold.

“His time will come Cissy, and he will belong to the Dark Lord,”

A loud crack and Narcissa was left alone in the cold house once more. 

“I wouldn’t be so certain,” She whispered to the empty room.

.

Chapter 5

End Note: Please let me know what you think! Your words and reblogs are so important to me always! Don’t be afraid to reblog and comment! I’m nice I swear!

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Azriel x Gwyn - Perfect Harmony

Read on AO3

Suggested Music

A cool breeze caressed her face, waking her in the dead of night. 

The faintest bit of light had her squinting as her eyes readjusted. 

For a moment she felt panicked at the sight of the unfamiliar room. Taking a deep breath, it took her several seconds to recall where she was. 

Gwyn remembered that she was not in the House of Wind but in an Illyrian camp. In the small house, she shared with Azriel. She was safe.

Soft moonlight shined through the glass, and Gwyn realized she hadn’t bothered to close the curtains before laying down to sleep. It was unlike her. 

But, admittedly, her mind had been preoccupied. 

Pushing off the bed, she got up to check the window. 

Scanning along the edges, she found not a crack nor gap. Nothing to explain how the cool air had made its way inside. 

Strange. 

She stood there a moment longer, waiting to see if the breeze might pick up again. But nothing happened. 

Instead, she found herself staring out at the blue moon. An inexplicable sense of comfort and ease washed over her at the sight. It was the first one she could ever recall seeing. 

The longer she looked at it the more she felt something tugging at her. Gwyn placed her palm against the glass, right top where the moon appeared to sit in the sky, and the feeling grew. Something was stirring deep inside her, beckoning her forward. 

Although a small part of her knew it was unwise, she found herself moving to answer its call. On quiet footsteps, she cracked her down open and peeked out. Hearing not a sound, she headed out the front door in nothing but her light blue nightgown. A gift from Nesta.

Shutting the door behind her, it occurred to her that she’d forgotten to put on any shoes. The rational part of her said it wasn’t too late to go back for them, but a stronger part urged her to continue onward. That the shoes were not necessary for where she was going. Despite the fact that she had no idea where that was. 

Nevertheless, she listened. 

Moving through the camp, she was greeted by silence. The entire place and all who resided here were in a state of slumber. 

Blessedly, she ran into no one on her way out of camp. She didn’t think she’d be able to answer any questions as to why she was wandering off in the middle of the night alone.

This afternoon had once again given her some hope that the Illyrians might be able to change their ways, but she was still in no rush to seek out their company. With the exception of a select few, obviously.

The crisp mountain air welcomed her, as she left the relative safety of the camp, urging her on further. But something in her soul told her it was not the wind or air that truly called her, perhaps, not even the moon. 

Still, it was a call that felt oddly familiar as if she’d heard it once before. 

She followed it, further away from camp, into the wilderness. She could feel the changing earth beneath her feet. 

Soon enough, she heard the gentle flow of water meeting stone. A river came into view. And she remembered. Once before, during the Blood Rite, she’d heard this call. Telling her to come, reaffirming her own belief that she was would be safe beside it. Only at that time, it had only been a faint whisper. 

This time it was stronger, bolder as if it were confident that she would not shy away. 

Back then, Gwyn had thought she’d imagined it. That exhaustion and dehydration had worn her senses. 

Because never before in her life had she’d ever felt the call of the water. Though to be fair, she’d spent most of her life confined behind walls. 

Perhaps if she had ventured out sooner this feeling would not be so unfamiliar.

With little hesitation, she moved along the edge of the river - moving in the opposite direction to which it flowed. 

Not long after, Gwyn caught sight of the waterfall from which it flowed. 

The sight was nothing short of breathtaking. Tiny glowing insects danced in the air. Their soft light hitting the water droplets in the air in a way that covered everything in a soft glow. 

She could almost swear the pool directly beneath the waterfall glowed especially bright. The water there practically sings, calling her home.

And again, Gwyn finds herself moving in answer. 

She stepped into the water and it immediately began to soak the edge of her grown, dragging it down. But Gwyn does not let that deter her. 

She moves to the center of the pool, where it glowed brightest and the water seemed warmer than it had when she first entered. Stopping there in the center, the force that urged her on finally seems to quiet. 

So she finds herself left standing there, staring at her reflection in the pool. 

There was a faint chill in the air all of a sudden, but it didn’t particularly bother her. 

Her focus elsewhere. 

She ran her fingers along the surface of the water, creating tiny little ripples in the pool that moved against its own waves. 

The nagging feeling returned, calling for her to bend the water to her whim. A tingling sensation ran down her arm. 

She lifted a hand out of the water and watched as the small amount that had pooled in her palm trickled down. She found herself wishing it would not slip it away. 

She imagined it dancing, singing, with her. 

And just like that, the water obeyed. It stopped falling. Instead, tiny droplets rise off her palm and hover above her hand. 

She stared in shock. 

Gwyn lifted her other hand, aiming the same thoughts toward it. And once more, the water obeyed. 

She felt a warmth blossoming in her chest as her heart filled with wonder. All of a sudden more and more water droplets rose up from the pool, heeding her call. 

They collected all around her. Encircling her. 

A smile broke across her face. Amazing. 

- - - 

She stood near the foot of a waterfall, the water well up to her knees. The lazy waves lapping at her sides. 

Her gown was soaking through, turning parts of it nearly transparent. Thankfully, no one else was here to see her in this state. 

Azriel watched from the tree cover, having been awoken by his shadows when she’d snuck out of their cabin. 

They’d never called to him in such a way before. Their actions mostly in response to threats. But they always did behave rather differently around Gwyn. 

He would admit he hadn’t known what to think when she slipped out the door and into the night. 

At first, he’d thought she might be sleepwalking. But she was moved too carefully for that. And the longer he watched her the more he grew certain that was not the case. 

Her eyes weren’t glazed over or unseeing but more...awestruck or enchanted. By what, he could not say. The light of the moon made it easy to follow her, even without the help of his shadows. 

A part of him had wanted to call out to her, but as a force of habit, he remained relegated to the dark. He waited to see where she ended up, determined to keep her safe if necessary. 

He’d given her the benefit of the doubt. Gwyn surely had a reason for wandering in the night alone. And so, he’d gone on following her in silence. 

Azriel was genuinely surprised when she’d ended up at the waterfall, which fed into the small river that transversed this side of the mountain. 

He shouldn’t have been. 

They hadn’t had much time to study tome detailing her nymph ancestry, but he’d seen enough to know that water called to them, or perhaps it was the other way around. Of that, he could not be quite so sure. He knew the basics but in actuality, he’d never really encountered any nymphs in his long lifetime. They were mostly found in the Spring Court. A place he rarely deigned to visit. He’d been sent to spy there a few times over the years, but that was about it. 

Azriel would not go there willingly. His distaste for its High Lord too potent.  

He watched as Gwyn ran her hands in semi-circles across the water’s surface, creating small little ripples. Her expression thoughtful, humming as she did so. 

Then, unprompted, she lifted her hand out of the water. Her attention entirely focused on the water cupped her palm, as if she were studying. 

While the water did glow, thanks to the moonlight and the plethora of glowing insects littering the air, he could not see anything particularly special about it. 

Gwyn’s focus appeared to grow sharper and her humming louder until finally, he saw it.

Azriel saw the water droplets rise up out of her palm and suspend in the air above it. She quickly lifted her other hand out of the water and the same thing happened again. He wasn’t sure what to make of that. 

Without thinking, he moved out from the cover of the tree line. Determined to get a clearer look, he closed the distance between them. No longer feeling the need to hide his presence from her.

Her humming grew louder once more, and before long she opened her mouth and began to sing. 

Her voice washed over him, a sweet, comforting melody. A sort of calmness he wasn’t sure he ever felt settled inside his chest. 

It was a song he’d never heard, with words he did not even begin to understand, and yet it felt familiar to him, as though he’d known it all along. As if, though his mind had never heard it before, but his soul somehow had.

Azriel watched in awe as water began to dance around her. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of small droplets hung in the air in response to her song. She seemed to hit a chorus, her voice speeding up, as she did the water droplets began to move all around her in a dance of pure magic. All the tiny spheres glowed as they caught the moonlight. 

Gwyn’s smile as she took it all in was nothing short of pure unadulterated joy.

Much like the water, everything about her appeared to glow. Her eyes sparkled watched the whirlwind around her, as she witnessed her own power. 

She marveling at it, and he marveled at her. Finally, she must’ve sensed him because she turned her head and their eyes met. Just like that, her concentration must have broken for the water fell around her.  

She eyed him for a while, her expression unreadable. Without so much as a word, she waded through the water and started toward him. 

Azriel tensed.

They hadn’t left things on the best of terms that night. While they hadn’t necessarily gone to bed angry, the air between had been...uneasy. 

An awkwardness had overtaken them as a result of his questioning her feelings toward Balthazar.

He wasn’t sure why he’d even brought it up. Things had been good between them lately. Every morning he awoke and got to see her smiling face across the table from him as they shared a small but filling breakfast together. 

Unlike Nesta, Gwyn never commented on the blandness of the meals they usually had before training. It often had him wondering about the sort of food she’d grown up eating during her time at the temple. Not that he ever asked her. No, Azriel would never ask for more than she was willing to give. 

Their shared meals were a pleasant time for him. He quietly watched her and every so often he would catch her watching back. 

At dinner time she often went and ate with Emerie, sometimes he would join them, and sometimes he wouldn’t. But regardless of whether or not he did, her face was always the last thing he saw before he returning to his room and falling asleep. On the nights he managed to fall asleep, that was. 

Tonight had been the first time she hadn’t wished him goodnight. And so, he worried that she would find fault with him following her without her permission. But he truly hadn’t meant any disrespect by it, and it was not as though he did not trust her. He’d simply be worried and a bit curious.

But in little time at all - his fears proved to be unfounded. 

Because as she reached him, Gwyn smiled brightly and grabbed hold of his sleeve. 

“Did you see that?” she exclaimed. It was impossible to miss the excitement in her voice. 

He gave her a soft smile, “I did.” 

It was a sight he’d never forget.

“I’ve never done that before, but it was...amazing,” she confessed, “It felt so natural. Like breathing. As if I was always meant to do it.” 

He fought the urge to brush his fingertips across her face.

“I’m happy for you, Gwyn. Truly.” 

Her gorgeously bright eyes stared up at him, “Thank you.”

He held her gaze, “Your voice is beautiful,” he added. 

Possibly the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard, would ever hear. A part of him wished he could bottle up not only the sound of her voice but the feeling he’d gotten when he heard it. What he wouldn’t give to always be blanketed by such peace and calmness. 

Her smile in response was so pure and genuine, as though he’d given her some great gift. When that was quite the opposite of the truth. 

As though only just realizing she still held his sleeve in her grip she let go. Shifting away almost shyly, but that did not quite Gwyn. She likely thought she was bothering him with her touch. Nothing could be further from the truth. Then, seeming to regain her usual confidence she looked back up at him. 

“Will you sing with me?” she asked. Her eyes determined, yet also a touch nervous. 

He hesitated. Azriel did not make it a habit to sing in front of others. It was not something he shared with people. But rather something for him. Something he did when he felt the need to. Sharing it with someone else...

Gwyn raised her hand out in offering, silently asking him to join her in the water. He stared at that outstretched hand. Studied her patient face, Azriel could not say for certain why this moment felt so important. But something told him it was. That he either took her hand now or he might never again have the chance. 

The thought alone made his decision for him. Azriel reached across the short distance between them and took her hand, encasing it in his much larger one. 

Gwyn smiled in happiness and gently squeezed his hand in what he could only assume was reassurance. 

Hands linked, she led him along as they headed back toward the center of the pool. 

Once there she stopped, turning back to face him. 

“Follow my lead?” she asked.

He nodded before answering, “Okay.”

Her grin was so wide that he could see the tiniest of crinkles form at the corner of her eyes. 

Azriel stood silently, listening as she sang a couple of verses, and water began to rise around and circle them. 

Listening carefully to the keynotes, he waited until the chorus hit. 

Then, as natural as breathing, he sang in time with her. 

His shadows darted out and began to dance around them. They swirled around Gwyn, looking as though they were crawling up her body yet careful to never actually touch her. 

She smiled in answer and opened her palm. His shadows took that as an invitation. They curled around her hand and fingers to the point where they almost looked like tattoos across her skin. And then she met his eyes. 

Azriel felt a strange sort of relief. One he’d never felt before. The look she gave him stole all the words from his mind. Nothing in his life had ever come close to perfect.

Nothing except this. This moment.

It was perfect.

~ ~ ~ 

Author Notes: I debated combining this scene with others to make the chapter longer. But I felt as though this scene should stand on its own. 

I had already written this draft long before hearing the suggested music I included, but it did inspire the chapter title because it felt like such a perfect fit. 

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this latest installment, and Happy Easter to those who celebrate it!

~ ~ ~

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