#i survived and because I kept writing i kept that spark alive

[nexttothelamp]

...

[revelboo]

It Had to Be You Pt 2

Megatron x Reader-spark

• Awareness washes through Megatron as his servos wrap around the tiny organic. Everywhere bare skin touches his metal flesh, its biofield soaks into him. Startling and strangely, soothing that ache he’s done his best to ignore for so long. Denta gritting, he wants to crush you in his hand, squeeze until he can’t feel this eerie sense of connection and aching familiarity anymore. Because whatever this is? It’s a threat.

• And it chains him even as he rages against it. Because this creature won’t, can’t, die by his hand. However he much he hates this newfound need, he can’t let it go now. Expression darkening, his face lifts to the fight raging on. Snarling under his breath, he tucks the alien inside his chassis, protoarmor crawling at the feel of something inside him as it just keeps making that awful, screeching. He’ll break it of that noise, but first- the Autobots.

• You’re trapped, the dark space you’re wedged in forcing you into an awkward hunch, unable to stand up straight or sit. It’s a coffin, your brain whispers as you pound your fists against the warm metal in a panic to get free. You feel like you can’t breathe and when the monster who imprisoned you begins to move, you’re battered against the walls of your prison. That building panic seizes you by the throat, vision flaring white then black as your head bangs off a wall.

• Beaten again by a Prime. Fury is a living thing inside him, as he grits his denta. How many times now? No matter how much he pushes himself, he can’t overcome the Matrix of Leadership and the unfair advantage it bestows on the Prime. The other name is just there in the back of his processor, but he won’t speak it, much less think it. That mech is long gone, twisted into a tool for the aristocracy. A Prime.

• Inside his chassis, the alien is silent, its cries having quieted during the battle. Still alive, though. He can sense its weak field washing into him in little, reassuring waves. That vague sense of peace that comes with the contact only makes him angrier. Maybe he’ll let Shockwave take it apart to figure out what this is. Some sort of defense mechanism?

• He doesn’t remove it until he’s safely ensconced in his own quarters, his army off tending to their wounds. It’s unresisting as he lifts it free, hanging limp from his servos and sluggishly leaking something red from a cut above its eye. Moving to put it down, he finds himself strangely reluctant to do so. It’s must be something it’s doing to him. Weakening him somehow as it snares him with this strange need to not break this contact.

• Sitting heavily on his berth, he uses the tip of a servo to nudge a limp arm. He’s seen organics before, fragile little things that never survive being caught in their war. There’s a vague guilt there, but it’s old and kept chained away in a dark part of his processor with all other weakness, with that other name that had belonged to a brother. The leftover vestiges of a miner named D-16. Megatron has no need for them. Carefully tipping its head to the side, he soaks in that odd, peaceful sense of rightness that touching the creature brings. Despite how soft and weak it is, it’s curiously shaped like a Cybertronian. Bipedal, two arms, and two legs.

• And even though he realizes it’s dangerous, he can’t set the alien aside. Can’t relinquish that strange need pulsing in his spark that insists this fragile thing is his. That this contact is right, even as it’s very wrong.

Previous Next

I just want to write silly transformers nonsense, but my beta reader had to remind me that I do owe updates on two manuscripts- this story line is her fault. Trying to change gears between what I normally write and my for fun stuff didn’t go very well, but hey, I kept it SFW. I’m counting it as a win.

[bones4thecats]

What If Their S/O Died During Ragnarok?

Characters: Thor, Odin, Loki, and Heimdall Inspired By: My wish to write angst A/N: I have nothing to say so read the angst. ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Death, fighting, details in death, murder, and just pure angst no fluff. ⚠️

Disclaimer: F! Reader in Odin's part because of Thor being his son

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╚═════ Thor ═════════════════════════════════╝

🌩️ Thor always adored your strength. You weren't as strong as him but you were quite a threat when you needed to be, so when you were called for Ragnarok, he wasn't surprised

🌩️ You stood before the human named Julius Caesar, and if you were being honest, his cunning nature was starting to annoy you even before your fight began, but now that you were far more advanced into it, it was beginning to make your anger come out

"I'm gonna tear your arms off your body and use them to beat you senseless!" You screamed, raising your weapons to strike him down.

"Bring it!" He yelled back.

🌩️ As you swung downwards, the male disappeared, making your eyes widen and you feel a pain hitting your midsection. Staring downwards, a large gladius blade poking through your body

🌩️ The sound of everyone gasping made Thor look up from his hammer in the private room. His eyes locked with the screen and his grip tightened around the handle, launching up from his seat, he began to practically run outside to the ring

🌩️ Thor ran as fast as he could go up the stairs, his sudden stop between you and the former Roman dictator causing a mass amount of sand to fall upon him. He looked back at you and saw how you fell to the ground

"Y/N..."

"I love you, Thor... after death does us part..."

🌩️ Your body began to shatter as your husband kept his grip on your body, trembling as you died. You, the love of his life, died in his arms

🌩️ He turned around as your green-shattered body began to float away, he then dug his fingers into his weapon, it almost shattering the object he held onto. Thor then looked back at the human, rage in his eyes as he let out a deep warning as thunder wrapped around them all

"You'll pay for this, human."

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Odin ═════════════════════════════════╝

🪶 Vlad the Impaler, former Voivode of Wallachia, well-known blood-thirsty monster, and current-opponent against the co-leader of the Norse Pantheon, Goddess of the Afterlife, Y/N stood before one another, weapons drawn as Heimdall yelled for the round to start

🪶 Thor watched as his mother walked to the human, shook his hand, and readied to fight. Normally he would be just as calm as his father, but after the loss of Poseidon in the third round, it was worrying that they could possibly lose another God, specifically his own mother

🪶 Odin, his father and your husband, just sat there with a blank face as saw how your weapons clashed, leaving sparks behind as you danced around him

🪶 During your time ruling over those who have passed on in Valhalla, Hel, Fólkvangr, and Landscape, you would be able to move around their wispy-like forms with ease, as if you were a dancer. And while it was beautiful in those times, right now it was helping you survive

🪶 Odin's eyes narrowed as Vlad lifted his kilij and sent it smashing down onto your own spear, successfully smashing it in half while you flew back and sent attack after attack at the human who tried killing you multiple times

🪶 It only lasted 20 minutes when you knocked Vlad the Impaler down, causing him to cough up blood and see his blade get smashed underneath your foot. While he did have a Völundr, it was of no use, your skill in battle rose far above his own

🪶 Holding your blade to his throat as he pressed against the wall, he took the final attempt at hitting you by throwing his blade at you, though you dodged and allowed it to fly past you. You scoffed and chuckled at the action of the human

"How amusing, even after so long of trying to stay alive you still don't understand that I cannot and will not allow myself to be taken down by a man with longer hair than my nutcase-nephew. Now, accept your fate. Any final words for your fellow parasites?"

"Yes... I made sure I got my final head."

"What?"

"Y/N, look out!"

🪶 In the matter of a second, time stopped. A large mount of black hair launched in the air with shock while the rest of the beings all froze in fear. It was the leader of the Norse Pantheon, it was Odin who had gone blind in rage so quickly

🪶 Jumping down from his seat, Huginn and Muninn swarmed around your body, now holding a blade within the head and squawked in agony. Loki and Thor stood in complete shock as Odin held his hand up and sent a blast at the human male, killing him slowly and painfully while he picked up your body without any emotion and carried you away

🪶 All Gods watched silently as the humans just looked down or stayed with their eyes glued on the events. The Gods felt ashamed at the loss, yes. But seeing such a kind and loving part of their society fall in such a hurtful manner broke some hearts while Humanity just shook their heads with either shame or pity for the Norse Family

🪶 When Odin fought soon, everyone knew that he wasn't going to go down easy... not after this...

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Loki ═════════════════════════════════╝

🐍 Loki and you have been amused watching the humans and Gods fight. At first, the fights went by smoothly, the loss of Lü Bu and Adam not fazing either of you, but as the humans began to rise in power, resulting in the loses of Heracles, Poseidon, and Hades, your nerves slightly grew when your name was called

🐍 Walking around the ring amusing yourself was easy, but standing in front of those they called 'History's Greatest Military Mind', did bring your ego down slightly, much to his surprise

🐍 As you clashed in the arena, your husband of many years, Loki, floated around and laughed at the futile attempts against you. It was pointless, with your mindset and similar, to his, abilities, you were practically invincible

🐍 Loki smirked as you fought, ignoring the calls of his Uncle Odin's birds. And while they were annoying, if he had to endure them to see his lovely spouse win, then so be it

🐍 His face only began to darken the Alexander began to advance with his Valkyrie-bond. Now his attacks were starting to land more often, and that was not good at all

🐍 You were a Deity who has fought in many wars, you knew how opponent's thought, but every time you knew what he was going to do, he'd switch it up on the spot. Now you understood his nickname to the fullest

🐍 Loki's eyes narrowed in worry as you lunged forward to stab him in the head, only for him to dodge, go behind you, wrap his legs around your neck, pin you to the ground, and speak his final words to you

"You were an amazing opponent, Deity of Order. And I wish you no pain."

"Why you-"

🐍 Dead silence.

🐍 With one blow, you had died. A stab wound to your heart, causing your once glowing, glimmering eyes to drown in a pool of darkness. Loki watched as your arms slumped down and as Humanity cheered for their heroine

🐍 But what he didn't know is that the Trickster God from the Norse Pantheon was standing right behind him, ready to make him feel the same pain he made his lover feel a couple seconds ago

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╚═════ Heimdall ══════════════════════════════╝

📯 He has seen all either fall or stand in this tournament, but there was one that he did not wish to witness end with a Gods' non-victory, and that is Round 5 of Ragnarok, Hannibal Barca vs Norse-Deity of the Sound, Y/N

📯 You two have been together since the very beginning, growing from friends to full-on romance in just a matter of a couple thousand years, which is fast for any average Deity-relationship, which normally appears after around four-times that!

📯 He watched you two look at one another blankly, but he knew how you thought. You were coming up with every angle you could hit this guy and he could go down like a fly, and he hoped those plans worked

📯 Heimdall blew into his horn and the match began, the sound of metal clashing and grunts being all he could hear whilst everyone else conversed and made their own sounds in reaction to everything

📯 You could hear everything better than anyone, and using your daggers, you tossed them in the air before they came flying down, making the loudest screeching anyone could ever hear. After doing this many times and having Hannibal come back with his own attacks unique to himself, which made you smirk and laugh

"If you believe such minor attacks with a Valkyrie could kill me, you're wrong human."

📯 Hannibal smirked and raised his weapon once again for an attack set like a joust. You just scoffed and aimed your sword for his heart, but before you could hit him, a pain was felt the back of your head... a shield had come flying down and smashed your head down

📯 You fell to the ground in pain as he grabbed the shield and hit you once again in your head, making you wail in agony from the pain. Like mentioned earlier, your hearing was exquisite, so having this crashing your head while he hit it with his sword wasn't very nice

📯 He then pierced your head with his sword, causing everyone to freeze slightly. Humanity then broke out into a cheer of celebration while the Gods stood in shock... how did he bring you down in a matter of 32 minutes?! What had he done?!

📯 Nobody was more shocked than Heimdall. He had just witnessed his spouse of over four-thousand years die before him. Everyone knew he wasn't going to speak, so, in an effort to help the man, Zeus came down and yelled out the rounds' results

📯 While Humanity celebrated and the Gods just stayed silent with either rage or pain for you, Zeus looked back at the Norse God and spoke gently as to usher him into a room to relax

"Heimdall, wait for me in the room with a soundwave on it. I'll be there in a little bit and we can speak of this."

📯 Heimdall nodded as he rushed away, tears threatening to spill from his eyes as he ran. Why did you have to die... why did Zeus have to choose you... why was life such a pain...

[coolcattime]

👀

So, I’ve been looking through my notes for different AUs because as it turns out I have a lot (and half the ones I open turn out to be about OCs, which I could ramble about, but not right now). So I wanna ramble for a little bit about my Mianite Blades in the Dark AU, which I have written a one shot for (and have a second one on my list of things to write), but I have no idea when I’ll actually get around to writing more of.

So I’ve talked previously about the Ianitees in this AU (here and here), mostly because that gang was important for the set up of the oneshot, but I haven’t talked about the full plot I actually wanted to go through.

So, Sonja has learnt that Capsize is alive, despite her death having been widely accepted, and that Jordan has gotten himself possessed by a demon. Once their reunion has had time to sink in, Wag joins the ladies to start presenting the actual full situation with what’s possessing Jordan: The Shadows - a demon whose true name has been lost to time but has been kept trapped inside the Shadow Diamond jewels. The arcane seals were beginning to fail, typically not the biggest deal as people with occult power like Wag will just strengthen the seal before it can break out and possess anyone and the whole thing will be fine for another hundred years. Unfortunately Capsize and Jordan touched the pieces, allowing the demon to fully break the seal and possess Jordan (due to Capsize’s demonbane’s charm protecting her).

Wag goes on to explain that the easiest way to get the demon out of Jordan without either killing him or them all having to fight a demon that full strength, is to redo the original sealing ritual, for which they’ll need to collect every single one of the jewellery pieces without alerting possessed!Jordan to either the fact they’re collecting them or that Capsize is actually alive. Sonja asks why they need to track them down at all, given that Ianite should have all the pieces but the ring that Wag has and a pair of earrings (that she saw Jordan wearing) in her private collection. Wag says they had assumed so too, but that pieces of the collection have been sold through some of the city’s shadier methods, to binders far richer than himself.

So, with very few leads on where exactly to start, Capsize suggests that they need a bigger crew. Sonja assumes she means getting someone from Ianite’s crew into the know, but Capsize shakes her head, there’s too much of a risk of being caught by the demon and it just running off with Jordan’s body. They need someone connected enough in the criminal world of the city to get them leads, but also someone who won’t rat out that Capsize is alive and will believe them about Jordan not being Jordan.

Enter Tom: the right-hand of one of the other two major gangs in the city, Jordan’s sometime’s maybe boyfriend, and a good friend of Capsize despite their opposing gangs. Tom is a Slide, known for his two methods of criminal activity either being subtle social manipulations or extremely loud heists typically involving explosions. For the past month, he’s noticed odd changes in Jordan. At first he’d attributed it to watching Capsize die, but he slowly started to think that something was completely and utterly wrong with how seemingly callous he’s become. When he’s summoned by Wag, he thinks the invitation is odd, but still visits the man, surprised but overwhelmingly happy to see Capsize alive. They catch him up to speed on the situation and he agrees to help them, and also says he’ll gather some makeup and clothes so Capsize can go around the city without her survival being made clear.

Then the story is a bunch of heists with a slowly growing crew. I don’t have too many ideas for heists, except for one taking place at a charity ball/auctions run by Spark (who had “miraculously recovered” one of the Shadow Diamond pieces and is auctioning it off with permission of the original owners), where they need to publicly steal a the jewel both without being caught and without Spark (or any other members of Ianite’s crew at the venue) realising that Capsize is alive.

[mutiara-05]

I really hate watching the time passing me by and I also hate having to witness all my years fly so I hold my pen and sit down, it's time to write time for me to sort whats wrong and what's right but my life has been so fucking dull lately now so Ima tell you about my past and Ima keep it raw ok so back to the year of two thousands and five the mid of that year where I almost didn't survive was still in the womb and they announced me dead they scheduled curettage but "no" grandma said did a second check up and surprise I haven't died I was just chilling in there, was laying on my side now skip to mid august to my time to finally come I took about two days being a nightmare to mom well it's no surprise since she didn't want me at all but wanting a son he went and pinned her to a wall a disappointment since first breath by being a female my pink clothes highlighted the devil's clear fail the doctor who brought me said "she's a miracle" AB negative blood type yet she's alive.. untypical was hours old laying down when a nurse barged in yelling "a bomb was located, leave avoid your fin" the first four years of my life passed by really fast almost died a couple of times but that's the past got a bunch of allergies and one can easily kill me reason of death: a little peanut she couldn't see was five years old and already having trust issues but that's nothing because at six starts the abuse I've always wanted him to go a little bit further To stab him I needed an excuse since he's my father required straight A's while studying three languages school was an hour away and filled by dumb bitches made fun of and pushed around but I stood still all alone cause mama was busy to notice how I'm ill started writing at 6 as a joke but picked it at 10 for real I was alone and scarred I needed something to heal a couple failed tries then I wrote something so cool rushed to her feeling proud but she made me a fool I didn't hold a pen for full three years after that and I lost my spark while losing all the extra fat on sixth grade I failed to write an essay, no surprise costed me but I fixed it following my own advice high school started and was nothing like the movies from a teenage dream to a hell where you pay fees only one year then everything went down hill for me no hope, no dreams, not knowing who I should be fourteen was when I tried to take my life away but failed so I guess god really wanted me to stay now became dead inside using a fake smile to hide then knew an artist who took me to hope on a ride felt understood having a hero who knows my pain kept going by thinking about him under the rain by using his voice I crossed a phobia off of my list While aware he doesn't even know that I exist was struggling still but his smile helped me endure 2020 he left to cure his old left shoulder injure I remember so clear how I cried scared for him but he came back saving my life from being dim now 2021 oppression logged in after my hair cut overwhelmed I held a blue something ready to cut really wanting to see some red while killing myself but blacked out then woke under my books shelf I survived again so I had to create a second face living two lives and switching was the daily race but it's fine I was pretty chill, wanna know why? was waiting to be 17 believing that's when I'd die nineteenth august of two thousands twenty two at a restaurant waiting for two "friends" I knew many things went wrong that day but I didn't mind party's over, had a fight at home he won't be kind took a deep breath and calmly laid on my bed slept with a smile was sure by morning I'll be dead but "it's nine o'clock am" announced by my alarm I woke up at morning safe and sound with no harm my heart sank in why the fuck am I still here? I'm still alive I haven't died that's my biggest fear

Dressed up kinda overshowing to cover my state a couple males tried to hit, I lied: I'm not straight but "boys don't bite" oh yes I assure you they do I ain't letting my guard down, y'all stay safe tho went out with no permission to watch the world cup cool day but the loud sudden cheers fucked it up like sorry dudes I ruined such an important match you enjoy hearing cheers but I see a bloody patch skip that now its exams time I'm expected an A plus but I've been quite and over sleeping ain't it sus Results came back terrible, it ain't no surprise "How sad" "how unexpected" are my little lies let that too pass since it's now my birth month they took my light away and now I'm lost in a labyrinth decided I won't be celebrating nothing this year because I can't enjoy anything if he's not here I'm slipping back to a shadow that's blue and grey I'm slowly digging the dark grave where Ima lay but I don't care if my knees are buried in mud or even if I'm out there drowning in my own blood you can always start a battle and turn it to a war then put me in it with no gun no sword nor armour I can face the snipers alone and slay them all standing over cold bodies, you know I never fall I really don't need nobody, I don't wanna be saved save your pity, sweetness wasn't something I craved was once just a little girl who needed a warm hug but now a tomboy as cold as my iced coffee mug today I finally accepted that I am the villain here so fuck all of the promises I've made, am I clear? I ain't staying and I ain't trying, we won't go out won't write for nobody won't live in the same route I do have a list for the promises so I didn't forget but when I go extra for people I end with regret she was innocent one day but they hurt her a lot I built her a castle with high walls, for her I fought all she ever wanted was someone to read her a story now she write those and overuse the word sorry Dear lord I'm sorry for not being the best believer sorry that I only pray when I get a strong fever I'm sorry to my cousin, I cant keep being your idol I'm sorry grandma when you were alive I didn't call and I'm so sorry grandpa if I was ever too cold sorry aunt I stopped loving you when I got old sorry to my uncle who died the month I was born I blame myself for it every day and I'm still torn sorry to my "friends" I never loved you enough so sorry to the boy I turned down, I was rough sorry to the sun and the star that I did wrong you'll both keep shining in the lines of my song sorry to mama that I'm not the perfect daughter and sorry but I hate you so fucking much father to six thousands five hundred and seventy four days of me existing while being dead to my core

[mintffxiv]

My thoughts on FFXVI - Full Game Spoilers

Ranking 7.5/10

As I only completed it a couple of hours ago some thoughts might change with time and if there are DLC's or other information after time has passed. My thoughts are also emotionally charged and sporadically disjointed but I will try to keep on point. Speaking of points I'm going to bullet point each thought to try and not ramble as I always do so I can get personal catharsis from writing my feelings out. So this is definitely also a release post because I need to get my feelings out.

Also has Encanto spoilers but I've pointed out where but just to add prior so it can be easily avoided.

The first thing I did after completing the game during the credits was check Google which of course took me to Reddit. This,

was the first post I saw and I've been reading and mulling over it since.

From that post and other comments I did feel some relief that Clive is alive. And for me and thankfully others that Joshua and Dion are alive.

I don't think Clive wrote the book, I think it was Joshua. Even though Tomes gave Clive his quill he also said that Joshua was also quite the historian or something like that. Now I could be misremembering but even so I don't think it's Clive who wrote it.

And speaking on that, I don't like seeing the far off future. I always feel sad when magic is gone because it's so important for this type of fantasy style. I get that it's powerful but the world looses it's spark for me. Like recently I watched Encanto with my friends. Avoid this next part of text if you don't want Encanto spoilers.

Encanto Spoilers start:

Like at the end I was so happy they all kept their magic. I mostly always dislike it when stories lose their magic because that's what made them special. That's what symbolised their strengths in a fancy and literally magical way.

Encanto Spoilers end.

I know it's Squares route to always say yadda yadda humans are magical without magic but they spend their whole damn games with magic as a core standard. I know 16 is different to an extent but it feels like overkill and almost making it too Earth-like. Like I myself am not a stable person so I need these stories to boost me up, so coming back down this way doesn't feel complete or good for me. I think it would have been better if maybe dominants wouldn't be possible anymore or just that simply the blight would stop from the aether being sucked from the land and that everyone would have the chance to use magic. Like magic wasn't the problem it was the abuse of magic so getting rid of it feels too drastic and even too easy. Like Ultima made humanity here, so they are magical beings. The flaw if any is that not all humans can use magic so ideally breaking the original crystal would restore balance to the planet. I'm sure the curse would still be present in a way of overuse but that's what happens to anything with overuse. If you exercise too much you're at risk of damaging your body from pushing too hard etc and as it's balanced now the blight would stop spreading and eventually the land would recover especially with the new survival techniques born from The Hideaway.

I get symbolism is present in all Final Fantasy games, but when it comes at a cost of clear closure it's a problem. I was finally feeling relieved that this game had clear intentions. Such as yes the people have sex lol. Yes they swear. Yes they bleed. But suddenly at the end we aren't given that? 15 really did a number on me and not just because of the ending it was a lot of issues I had so I was tentative with this but as I trust the XIV team and as I was going through the story I was starting to believe in a clear triumphant victory. But no it's just vague to be... I dunno why. Like after all the uncertainty in the game having a clear happy ending would have been so so good and appreciated. I don't feel the catharsis I needed and I expected. Even with the hope and logical thoughts that Clive and co are alive I don't feel closure and it really hurts so bad. And yes I do get heavily invested but that's just my way for many personal reasons but even so I've seen a lot of others feel the same way so that is something at least.

At least they didn't kill Torgal. However I wish he had more of a stronger role. He was our soul mate. I understand how he couldn't get on Bahamut's back but I dunno maybe he could have howled and restored Clive's health during a part of the fight, like how our friends voices cheered us on. And their first meeting was lackluster. Especially after we see how tireless Torgal was collecting Clive's things. There are a lot of jarring disconnects at times which sucks considering a lot of things are said to connect characters and events. A few lines here or there would go a long way.

Continuing on that thought, I was really expecting and then hoping for past scenes and gameplay of the brothers childhood but they had to just jam the knife in at the end. Like it just hurts, really hurts and I hate that. I was also expecting and hoping for politics but that all ends at Phoenix Gate. Like the disappointment when we get to the city of Sanbreque and the brothel only to not explore it but then move fast on rails away from it and never to step once in its city properly. Like that grand palace hello!? I was expecting some sort of masquerade stuff infiltration and seeing our mother there only she doesn't know it's us. But nope they just go off to Twinside but then we can't even explore there and then it gets flown up into the sky like? We're only stuck in the hideaway that we can't edit which would have been really cool and when we're not we're stuck in very similar landscapes outside which are pretty but it really makes the world feel small. Especially that the blight has already limited our exploration having the cities we have being taken away from us really sucks. And Barnabas! I was hoping he'd invite us for a grand dinner and during it we'd get drugged and hallucinate because he's aiding Ultima to easily take possession and then it'd switch to Joshua and we'd play as him going with Jill and Gav to infiltrate the castle and rescue Clive. Going further into my fantasy lol, imagine after recovery which would maybe take some time with Joshua reminding Clive of who he is with flashback game scenes, and maybe even after Clive comes back they end up recruiting Barnabas but I know that's definitely a stretch haha! The point is I felt we weren't given the full tour of the world and I know all Final Fantasy games are lineal but this was very on rails only stopping for side quests and with me personally running around to listen to updated voice commentary on what NPC's had to say which was cool but also distracting and long but I didn't mind especially at the time because I was enjoying figuring out the world.

Too many side characters. I really did like the lore account and information for each NPC big or small but at some point some characters really should have been one instead of two. Example Gaute and the woman next to him (I've forgotten her name and cba to look) who gives us appreciation points, should have been one person. It would also give more chances to have a stronger character we could get to know more and bond with.

Along with that was the bond and war table really necessary? I appreciated it at the time and I do still appreciate the effort but this energy could have been used for making the ending not unnecessarily vague or having all the characters voice lined and not being randomly non voiced. Like I thought my game had a bug before I realised it was doing that style for those parts but it was really confusing and not expected!

On reflection I don't think Metaia disappeared or died, I think it went to tell the moon the wish to be granted and will be back again. But if not I think it definitely went to tell the moon which also symbolises a power higher than what Ultima wanted us to believe. I think it also shows when Clive senses and partially sees his dad at his grave showing bonds and life beyond death which is extremely comforting and valid.

It would be great to learn on Leviathan properly. I know it was destroyed but perhaps there still in a defendant. Some have said it could be the baby in Edda or even Gav who is unaware. I think it's probably a whole other character we might meet in DLC however it'll be something to see how to manage that post world without magic or they do an alternative timeline or even go back in the past though that would also be sad because we know they are 'lost'.

I feel they killed off big characters too quickly which made the passing off. I knew Cid would die from his constant coughing blood and also because he's 'old'. Most characters die if they're old in these games or they are full side NPC's that half their character is being the old person. Also because he's too powerful of a character and they need Clive to take the reigns but it would have been really cool if Cid was still alive and we helped him recover, it would have been cool to have quests for him. Benedikta too, I feel like we didn't get enough of her. She drove a lot of the story well and then was cut out. I feel like they were inspired clearly by GoT but as it went on went back to final fantasy style which had a clash of styles hence the vague ending which most likely would have not been so stark if the full game was that style.

Oh and Jill. Along again with the wish that characters had more character Jill is one. I like Jill she is just above the line of being a basic boring pretty love interest. With Ice unfeeling it would have been great to have Clive melt her icy heart and in doing so she would cool his fiery anger. And I feel Clive didn't get angry enough. Like her whole story part was once again on rails, I feel like we got more emotion and character from Dory's side story because we got to read and somewhat experience this horror. We never one on one talk to Jill about our experiences and she hers to us. And on that I really thought we'd start the game from Clive being imprisoned and branded. We really missed out on a lot of lore building that really would have elevated the driving force of characters.

The bar was stupid and a waste of time. This would have been a great moment to be able to de-stress with the cast and get to know them more. Ben Starr Clive's voice said Clive was funny at least to him so I was expecting more funny and light hearted scenes but it's note like moments and it's not super funny or even cheeky just aha yeah. I wish we got the chance to learn about Clive. The whole game is about revenge to getting the choice to live and throughout that Clive is only that. What does he like to eat or not eat like Joshua and his carrots, does he like music, what does he want to do in life aside from this grand dream. We never get full bonding and comfort moments with the brothers, only a small part that ends in the space of a brief punch.

Our mother's death was disappointing. I think because the reunion was so quick and sudden. I was thinking she had more play in the story and also her bloodline thing makes no sense it's our dads bloodline not hers unless there's some unspoken fucked up GoTs shit going on lol. I was hoping when getting the eikons she'd realise that not only was we strong but far stronger than anyone and try to manipulate us to get a piece of our glory only to fall from grace from rejection just like she had rejected us all these years. Death of a character doesn't always have to be actual death but social death would be amazing. The disgraced Ana groveling to her son's would have been so so damn delicious. But naaa she just cuts her throat. As I said I was expecting and now wished for more political gameplay. Even giving us choices of how to approach a crystal would have been cool planning it, giving Vivian's map a really cool play. And having our Uncle help us with politics.

Like with Torgal I wish we got more chances of love with him and Ambrosia. They stayed loyal all this time and Clive doesn't even get the option to pet her.

I wish we got more clothes and not just us but the cast. We go to the desert in our leather clothes. The only person who ages is us and that's getting slightly more hairy lol like Jill looks the same. I thought the side quest for fabric would get her a new dress but nope.

I'm getting a bit fatigued now but I'll try to finish my thoughts. I gave this a 7.5/10 because of the ending. -2 for Clive and Joshua and 1.5 for Dion because although I want him alive I can understand if he did in fact die though the hope of him seeing with his flower and reuniting with Terrence and maybe even adopting the girl would be really comforting.

I think the only way I could fully be at peace is if DLC not only gave closure and a true happy ending but more loose ends tied up and a look to a fresh bright world not some future book with random people. After all the world isn't as important without the people in it and even more the people we know make it what it is. That's even what Clive said to Ultima that his bonds made him stronger, that because of love for others than himself he was able to beat him.

It's a shame, I was seriously contemplating getting platinum but now I don't want to even look at the screenshots I took and I want to delete them which I might later.

But yeah I do hope for clarity. Clive and Joshua and Dion deserve it. They deserve the world they fought for.

As for now I'm trying to recover, even if it was the ending I wanted and expected finishing a game is always bittersweet. I've been crying and felt shit so writing this helped a little to get it at least off my chest.

🗒️Notes: As usual there might be spelling and grammar mistakes. I might add more thoughts later. These are my thoughts and opinions which rely heavily on my strong emotions. I get extremely attached to games and things for personal reasons so my thoughts might come as even more personal because I take it too heart which is just my way I try to get past that but it's hard so I don't want to force myself. Anyway I'm nodding off now as I took meds for a headache lol so yeah. At least I don't have to worry about spoilers which was stressing me not stop whilst playing which made me anxious to complete it.

Also I wanted to make this short but as always it's long but yeah. I wonder if anyone read all this lol either way I got it out so I don't have to keep talking back and forth to myself as hard as I was. But if you did and even more so agree that means a lot because I'm a fragile person and I know I'm weird or I just don't manage things well so when I see people agree or I see others have my similar thoughts it helps. Anyway sleep now, I've been yapping for 2-3 hours.

New additions

I do like Clive and Jill together and how they were mostly portrayed. Same as most of the relationships but I just wanted more. I know they are busy with the plan and also have to be to defeat Ultima in time but they even said at the end Ultima would wait lol so totally could have time before then or before Clive was ready. I feel it was done well for a FF game and in general Japanese RPG games but the bar isn't very high so can't really compare. Anyway more talking moments would have been top.

[snakeofgarlemald]

What drew you to Menenius? Was there something about him that sparked his muse at first glance, or was it built up over time from lore? Do you have a favorite thing about your portrayal you wish you could do more with?

Mun:

So funny thing about me being drawn to Menenius, it's because of an NPC gathering with @angelic-din-mortem with their lyon that I felt left out of sorts and I decided that I wanted to pick someone. I literally said, 'Who is that elf that Lyon works for?' And sure enough, it was a slow process with picking him up since I barely knew his character at all, and I wasn't done with the storyline for the Bozja crew.

But to sum it up, me picking up Menenius almost maybe a year ago was a long slow process of building him up over time. Though I think what really pushed me to actually learn who Menenius was and all was because of @nossumusmanus and her Menenius that she had. Ironically, we both were hella afraid of stepping on each other's toes with our blogs (for me it was more like, 'Ah shit! She's hella quality and legit!') and then finally having vonny help me out more with my menenius.

Which in turn made me love Menenius more since despite everything, he's a dork and damn if he tries his hardest.

And ironically, this lead me to wanting to learn more about the IVth and how much of a dumpster fire they are to the fact that they were fighting so much a losing battle, but kept trying anyways. Then to actually having @angelic-din-mortem to make Sartauvoir, and Basch. And through the power of modding, we both have been able to do more with all of the 4th legion and beyond. And I have Menenius and recently Albeleo. Also getting Lyon and Menenius married while working with the canon AU of him surviving and how he's dealing with the aftermath from Diablo armament's laser blast.

But a favorite thing about my portrayal that I would absolutely love to do more of, see how much I can push Menenius' cruelty, machinations, intrigues and so much more.

What I regret now over the course of having Menenius..... is that I wish I had been more into Bozja when I first created him since I wasn't following the story well and all that fun stuff. And rushing through story with him, now I wanna somehow do gposing of how he actually would have handled the different situations and beyond. When I finally get Menenius out of Shadowbringers and into Endwalker to Garlemald, that's going to be major since dealing with the fact that he and Lyon are traitors, dealing with Quintus and his wrath and just now the outsiders perspective instead of being the one on the inside. He hadn't been home in years and with Basch's teachings and along with Lyon and crew, it definitely changed him a lot.

And with @nossumusmanus playing more of their Quintus with their Menenius muse sleeping, it felt like she was passing the torch to me and well I have been definitely keeping his muse alive through gposing and writing.

[ez-with-a-fez]

Okay so I have restarted my Newsies hyperfixation and it is back and bigger than ever. But anyway, I saw this post about comparing and conrasting the songs in the movie vs the Broadway show and like... No.

I've only seen the movie (mostly because I turned off the Broadway show five minutes in because... because NO) but this post inspired me to listen to a few of the songs (mostly because they mentioned the crazy lyric changes) and I don't like it. Any of the ones I listened to. That's a lie. I liked Brooklyn's here. I finally get why I keep seeing people gushing over it when, until today, I thought it was just that instrumental peice in the movie scene. But this is besides the point.

I specifically want to talk about Once and For All. In my opinion, the Broadway lyric changes they made really took away from that song. I'm gonna phrase this in a literal way to make it easier to describe. Movie Once and For All started at a 100. Love that song so much. So inspiring. But then they changed it.

Like, first of all, they didn't start with just throwing you into the song. It started with some build up which I thought took away from it. Minus 5

Then they got rid of Denton which I HATED but I already knew it (I have opinions on that too but that's a whole separate thing). Minus 5.

Then we get into the better part of the song. The beginning part from "this is the story we needed to write as we're kept out of sight, well no more" to "they're gonna damn well pay" is just... it's not the same. This song makes it out as if this is a violent war that they want to fight in. That the only thing on their minds is fighting. They cut out the part about Jack still wanting to go to Santa Fe. They rephrase it as if they're getting ready for a bloody fight, instead of showing the world the truth about how the workers and kids are being treated. Minus 10

I'm glad they left in the bit about Pulitzer not caring if they're dead or alive and the 3 satin pillows while they're begging for bread to survive. They keep that entire section the same except for... "wake up and read em and weep." Once more not even mentioning that this is about the article? That they're basically finding a peaceful way to fight him? the rest is the same, why can't you leave this line? They're just simplifying it down to a fist fight. Minus 5.

Okay this is the part I might have the most "once and for all of them don't find their manners we'll bleed them. Once and for All we won't carry no banners that don't spell freedom. Finally we're raising the stakes. This time whatever it takes. This time the union awakes, once and for all." They changed basically all the lyrics. They changed it so it was just about violence and fighting and FREEDOM? This is about money! About an unfair price raise! Who said ANYTHING about freedom? "Once and for all something tells me the tides will be turning." Powerful. "Once and for all there's a fire inside me that won't stop burning." Makes you FEEL something. With the other lyrics? I feel nothing. No spark of inspiration. Nothing. Hate this change. Minus 15

Here's another thing. They leave the kids shining shoes and the guy sweating blood in the shops and that's good. But it's the only mention about others with their problems? Before this it's been words fitted so that it can be heard by everyone, not just newsies (in the movie version). That inspiring section I talked about? It's not just aimed at Newsies. The tides are turning. The fire of passion and wanting to stand up to the ma and protect the hurt is burning. earasing those words makes it seem like these two lines about shoe shining and sweating blood is the only call out to the other kids that are in pain. Minus 5.

And after that? "I'm seeing kids standing tall, glaring and ready to brawl. All of these guys who are sick of the lies getting ready to rise to the call. Once and for all they'll be blood on the wall if they doubt us." More violence! More Newsies! They don't say anything, at least not explicitly, about how this movement has evolved. "This is to even the score. This ain't just Newsies no more." And it is. That's what the scene later is in the "The World will Know" reprise is for. With the hundred of people (obviously you can't get hundreds of people on a Broadway stage so that takes away from it but it's not their fault that time) singing together, holding signs that don't just say things about the Newsies, but about the factory workers and the shoe shiners and the store workers and the CHILDREN. Anyway, getting off topic. It is once again being simplified into blood and violence and threats. Minus 5

There's more at the end but I've lost my motivation so you can check out the different endings for yourself.

Anywho, that's minus 50 for the Broadway Once and For All. Obviously it's not a science that was just a way to help me visualize it. I think that's the reason that movie fans aren't Broadway fans and Broadway fans aren't movie fans. They're way too different. Actually, the Broadway version reminds me a lot (vibe wise) of the Percy Jackson movie...

Anyway, that's all I got to say.

On a completely unrelated note (because I haven't done a music rec in a while), "18" and "Mr. Bigshot" by Anarbor: absolutely fantastic

[inkoutsidethelines]

@universalfanfic I started writing this a couple weeks ago, then there were holiday travels, so I’ve finally finished.  But here, a moment from another Mary/Owen Vampire AU

Owen was worrying. Mary had kept herself locked away for two days now, refusing to leave the guest room for anything.  And worse, refusing to eat.  On a certain level, Owen could understand where she was coming from.  Her transition into a vampire had been about as traumatic as it could possibly be.  He didn’t fault her for not wanting to feed.

But he couldn’t let her starve either.

The bedroom was quiet when Owen slipped inside; Mary was completely hidden under the blankets on the bed, but Owen could tell by the way she was breathing that she wasn’t actually asleep.  He set the thermos of blood he’d brought with him on the nightstand as he sat on the side of the bed.

“I brought you something to eat, Mary,” Owen said.

“I don’t want it.” Her voice was muffled by the blankets, but he could still hear the conviction in her words.

“The blood is from a blood bank,” Owen said.  Which wasn’t quite as good as fresh blood, but it would work well enough.  And after what Ashton had forced her to do, Owen wasn’t going to even attempt to get her to drink directly from a human.  “No one was hurt getting it.”

“I don’t care,” Mary said, her voice cracking on the last word.

“Mary,” Owen said, tugging the blankets down.  She rolled over, burying her face in a pillow so he couldn’t look at her.  Owen sighed.  “Mary, you have to eat.  You can’t just starve yourself.”

She didn’t move or acknowledge his words.  Unease seeped into him, and he suddenly wondered if starving herself might not be her goal.  

He brushed her hair back from the side of her face, but she just buried her head deeper in the pillow. “Mary.”  She didn’t respond.  “Okay,” Owen said.  “And after you’ve starved yourself to death, what do you want me to tell your family?”

She stiffened, which was at least a reaction of some kind.  Owen waited, letting the silence drag out.  Finally, Mary pushed herself up into a sitting position and glared at him; but even though she was glaring, he could see the sheen of tears in her eyes. “I can’t do it,” she said.  “I can’t – I won’t – drink human blood. Not after what he made me do.”

Not after Ashton had forced her to drain humans until they were dead.  Just because he knew it would hurt her, and that hurting Mary would hurt Owen.  He’d gotten to her as soon as he could but…it hadn’t been soon enough.

But, understandable as Mary’s aversion was, there weren’t any good alternatives.  Animal blood was a poor substitute.  It could keep a vampire alive for a little while, but they’d be weak and malnourished, and ultimately would still starve to death. It just took a little longer.  If she was going to survive, she needed human blood-

Wait.  What if…

“You could feed from me,” Owen said.

Her face crinkled in confusion.  “I – what?”

“It’s a well kept secret that vampires can feed from each other,” Owen said.  “We don’t, usually…and those who do are usually…very close.  But it’s an option.”

She didn’t immediately reject the idea, which was progress.  “Wouldn’t drinking vampire blood create a – a bond?”

“No,” Owen said with a shake of his head.  “Sire bonds can only be formed when turning a human.  That’s it.”

Some of the tension left her at that, but she still didn’t seem wholly convinced.  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

His mouth tipped up in a half smile.  “I’m several centuries older than you.  I promise, even if you lose control, you aren’t capable of hurting me.”

Her gaze flickered, almost offended, and Owen was thrilled to see that spark in her expression. Especially after how close she’d been to giving up on everything.

“Please,” he said, “let me help you.”

She wavered a moment – then nodded.  “Okay.”

Owen felt a wave of relief wash over him.  He shifted so he was sitting leaning back against the pillows, and motioned for Mary to sit beside him.  She did, and he wrapped one arm around her to tuck her close to his side, and held up his other arm, offering his wrist.  Mary slowly reached up and gingerly held his arm, hesitating now.

“It’s okay, Mary,” Owen said.  “You can’t hurt me.”

She glanced up at him, then back at his wrist.  Slowly, she brought his wrist to her mouth.  The moment she bit him, Owen felt her shift.  Her grip – so ginger just a second before – became tight, pressing his wrist against her mouth as her body tensed.  The actual pain of the bite lasted only a second, and then all he could feel was the warm sensation of her mouth on his wrist.

Owen had to take a steadying breath, but he doubted Mary would notice.  She’d starved herself for days after being forced to gorge herself initially; it was a recipe to make her binge, if they weren’t careful about it.

We’ll have to come up with some kind of feeding schedule, he thought, mostly in an effort to distract himself from what was happening.  It didn’t help.  The thought of doing this again, repeatedly, was…well.  He hadn’t explained how close vampires typically were before they did this for each other.

“That’s enough, Mary,” Owen said.

Her grip tightened at his words, strong enough to bruise if he’d been human.

“Mary,” Owen said again, his voice firmer.  “You have to stop.”

She let out a frustrated growl, then jerked her head back with a shudder, eyes still red from the hunger. The bite on Owen’s wrist was small enough that the wound healed over almost instantly, leaving behind just a few drops of blood.  Mary’s gaze fixated on the drops, and Owen made no effort to pull his arm away, waiting to see what she would do.  That she had enough control of herself to stop feeding at all was a good sign, but Owen needed to know if that control would last.

Her head dipped down and her tongue darted out to lick the blood from his wrist – but she didn’t bite him again.  Then she stiffened, jerking back and letting go of his arm as though it burned her.  For half a second, he thought she might be reacting to another surge of hunger, but then he saw that all the red had faded from her eyes and flooded her cheeks instead, and he understood what was actually flustering her.

Owen decided to smooth over her embarrassment by ignoring it.  “Good job stopping,” he said instead, shifting away slightly and reaching for the thermos on the nightstand.  He needed the extra meal, after letting Mary feed from him.  He took a long swallow, then asked, “Are you feeling better?”

She certainly looked better; her skin had better color to it, even discounting the prominent blush. Mary shrugged.  “Yeah.  I am.”

“Good,” Owen said.  “We can keep doing things this way, if you want.”

Mary glanced up at him from under her lashes, and his breath caught in his throat.  When she looked at him like that, with her cheeks flushed, warm and full of life because of him, Owen desperately wanted to kiss her.  But they hadn’t quite made it to kissing, before everything with Ashton had happened, and given her very recent trauma, romance was probably the last thing on Mary’s mind, so Owen squashed the impulse, keeping his polite distance.

“Yeah,” she said.  “Yeah, I think…this will work.”

[createandchaos]

#god finally someone who Gets It #the fanon interpretation of haha himbo idiot rodimus passes me off so much #like part of it is jro's fault for playing it up #but there's so much nuance to rodimus that most of the fandom just skips #like read the rest of the comics #mtmte and ll were both good#but there's so much more to rodimus than that#read his spotlight#read primacy and autocracy #when I was still rping rodimus so much of his characterization came from the other comics #and I still got anon hate for being ooc bc “lmao roddy's too stupid and irresponsible for these things” #like ??? no??? he's not???? #he is just as traumatized and exhausted of war as the next mech#he's not some frat boy himbo #@ op sorry for the tag rant #I literally got so tired of this fanon interpretation it booted me from the rpc #and mostly tf in general

@ganonthot Do not apologize for this, this was a delightful read.

I will say that with James Roberts, I think it wasn't him purposefully portraying him that way in the actual canon but fans actually taking him too seriously on social media when he was clearly joking. Because the way he writes him in More than Meets the Eye and Lost Light shows he IS a competent leader, he's capable of doing far more than people give him credit for and the way he talked about him at the 2017 TFCon panel is really deep and considerate.

This lines up with what we see throughout MTMTE and LL!!! This isn't new, it just probably wasn't as intense as it is now because he was amplifying parts of his personality in small increments because they were still at war. To do it to the degree it was at in MTMTE/LL wouldn't just be dangerous, it'd have actually gotten people killed. So he likely only did enough to not be a liability.

It's also probably as bad as it is in MTMTE and LL because before the series starts he almost dies (or possibly did since Roche drew his spark being gone) at Megatron's hands, he's stranded on an alien planet with the Matrix fused to his chest, AND he discovers Ironhide and Sunstreaker are alive on Cybertron and what Galvatron plans to do with Vector Sigma. He has no time to amplify, he needs to warn the Autobots of what's happening. And when it's all done and the war's actually over he's left with four million years of trauma, his latest traumatic experience, and he's no longer in full-time survival mode.

It's at the end of the Remain in Light arc that Rodimus has stopped using this coping mechanism, instead trying to better himself during the entirety of The Sound of Breaking Glass and Dark Cybertron.

But then Optimus completely wrecks this, @decepticonsenual and @autisticthassarian having great posts on Rodimus' leadership and his regression here and here respectively. And personally, I think Autocracy also played a big role in his regression which JRo might've kept in mind.

Autocracy is where we get Rodimus' origins and see one of the most traumatic moments of his life: Nyon's destruction by his hands. Both Megatron and Optimus justify it but I think he took it deeply when Optimus justified it because he framed leadership as making hard choices, loneliness, self-doubt, and having the strength to do what needs to be done and make the hard choices. To Rodimus, who was an empty (destitute) and had just destroyed his home, killed his community, friends, and family to spare them from a far worse fate leaving only a handful of survivors he must've clung to this, placed all his trust, hopes, and wishes in the enforcer who tried to help only after the Omega Destructors arrivedCOUGH and told him at the end of Autocracy that maybe one day he'd carry the Matrix. So when he takes the initiative to make the hard choice and be honest with his crew and placed his fate in their hands, it's a slap to the face when his idol told him that no, it was the wrong choice and he's not fit at all to be a leader only to then later put Megatron on the Lost Light without consulting him at all. He finds out from Ratchet of all people that this is what's happening and he has no say in it because Optimus is the paragon of everything that is a "good leader."

Thinking about how the mtmte/ll fandom tends to portray rodimus as a manchild and/or a himbo to such an exaggerated degree that he's unrecognizable in the way that it loses that his story is that of someone who's painfully flawed and coping in life post war and has made really terrible mistakes and tries so hard to make up for it and the refusal to acknowledge and incorporate these aspects into your fan creations hurts what he's supposed to be and makes him static. He was homeless, he was an insurgent, he joined the autobots, he lost friends because of it, they died right in front of him, he's lost people under his command, he's reckless, he's arrogant, he's caring, he prefers to work alone as to not drag anyone down with him, he puts his life on the line to help people, he continues to make mistakes, he hides them, he owns it, tries to be better, he falls back into the worst of himself when he's essentially told it doesn't matter, he inspires people around him, and he stands by them despite their flaws and welcomes them to his crew. There's just so many things about him that aren't explored that I wish would be, especially when you bring in conversations from panels at TFCon.

[kimbap-r0ll]

Hi, just wanted to send this in! Headcanons for two characters of your choosing plus Chrollo about their reactions after their s/o’s death? Maybe like the grieving process. Bonus points if their death was caused in/directly by them 😈 angst angst angst

Hi, thank you for the ask! Ooh this is quite sad, I think I have two others that might be interesting to write for here

Chrollo, Feitan, Kurapika reactions to their s/o's death (inadvertently caused by them)

Chrollo

He had pushed you too far this time, telling you to go on the mission by yourself since you kept insisting you could do it. How foolish of him to let you go without thinking a certain chain user might be in the way. You hadn't returned after many hours. The mission shouldn't have taken that long, and the rest of the troupe was also agitated

The search started as soon as the sun began to rise. The troupe members scattered throughout the city to see if you were accidentally sleeping somewhere and forgot to come back. However, Chrollo stumbled upon your lifeless body in a rubbish dump. How fitting, you were from Meteor City, a junkyard.

"Y/n, are you sleeping?" He laughed, but as he kept calling out, you weren't responding. Touching your face, he felt his heart stop. You were cold. "Y/n," he breathed out. The sun's rays caress your face as if you were reached by the heavens. But this moment was nothing peaceful inside Chrollo's heart.

The troupe returned and saw Chrollo carrying you. The rest of them asked what had happened, he remained calm however. "We lost another it seems," he says quietly. Though he looks composed, the entire room fills with bloodlust that fades just as quickly as it came. He asks to be left alone and the rest of the spiders oblige.

Chrollo does not show his emotions to others, especially because as a leader he must be strong. But he breaks down, he had failed his role in keeping the spiders, no, you safe. Though revenge is something he wants, at the moment he wants nothing more than for you to hear his apologies of not keeping you safe

Feitan

He knew he was rough, that was why at first he didn't want to be in a relationship with anyone, especially someone outside of the troupe. You were just a regular person, you didn't know about anything related to the troupe nor nen, you were fragile. But maybe it was that fragility and that brightness that drew him to you.

This time however, you found out about his business with the troupe. You were upset at him hiding this fact from you, and this sparked a fight between the two of you. Feitan warned you to calm down, but it was really him that should have calmed down because the minute you threatened to let the officials know he quickly aimed his hand for your neck.

Had you been any other nen user or opponent he was used to, you would have survived and maybe had a sore throat for a few months. However, he punctured your neck, causing blood to spill and for you to splurt out a weak "Feitan" before slipping to your knees. Ater a split second he realized what he had just done.

"Y-y/n," it was the first time you had seen any emotion from him. It was fear. His eyes grew wide, he held you up, trying to keep you from falling. You tried tell him sorry, but blood kept spilling everywhere and your words were reduced to nonsense choking. Feitan kept telling you to shut up and that you had to stay alive.

It was an agonizing two minutes before you lost consciousness and eventually stopped breathing. Feitan stood up, not knowing what to do with your body. He was used to cleaning up corpses with what his job demanded, but this time he was lost. The next time the troupe saw him, he was a lot colder than usual. No one knew what had happened, other than that when Phinks asked where Feitan's lover was Feitan gave him a punch but his eyes held sadness more than anger

Kurapika

He shouldn't have prioritized his path of revenge over the lives of people he cared about. Sure, the Kurta seemed to call to him to avenge their deaths, but those that were living were also calling to him to not go down the path of destruction. He should've listened a little harder to those that were still with him in the physical world.

Being someone from Meteor City, someone that was close to the troupe didn't exactly translate to you being sympathetic to the spiders. But an argument got heated, and he lost control. You were trying to get him to stop his fight to hunt for the rest of the Kurta eyes and even the troupe but he thought you didn't understand his pain. Nen was involved soon enough.

Though you tried to fight him, he was skilled. Being Kurta made Kurapika much stronger too even in terms of sheer physical strength. He couldn't use Emperor Time on you, but that didn't stop him from using his chains in general. When you thought he was done with his chains, you rushed to restrain him from continuing his anger but he only grabbed for a nearby pen.

The anger blinded him from seeing what had just happened. The next thing he remembered after you told him that he should stop his revenge was that he had a pen in his hand that was stabbed into your chest. You were coughing violently, eyes wide and brimming with tears. You told him you were sorry and that you should've understood him better. Weakly, you reached up to his face, meeting his red eyes that soon faded back to brown. But you were too weak, your eyes closed and you slumped.

"No," Kurapika breathed out, "No no no no, y/n, y/n don't leave me," he shook you, holding you up and trying to get you to wake up. His actions took someone's life once again, another burden to shoulder. He knew his anger could be deadly, but never did he think it could kill you. How was he to forgive himself any longer when he was already feeling the anguish of his clan? Kurapika cried as he held you, repeating apologies and refusing to let go of you.

[kujojotarolover]

Queen of the meadow for Jotaro, please!

cw: Yandere Themes, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Assault, Injury / Injury Imagery, Possessive / Obsessive Thoughts, Isolation, Allusions to Isolation, Death, Mentions of Death, General Dark Themes not Suitable for Immature Audiences. Reader-Insert, Gender Neutral, pre-6taro. Uncomfortable scenarios included, read at your own discretion! 18+ ONLY!

author's note: This is the last request for these prompts! I hope that you enjoyed them and that this one is to your liking as well! I had a lot of fun writing these. These "Yandere Prompts Flower Language" were written and coined by @/nanasparadise . That original post can be found here. I do not condone unhealthy behavior in any sense! This is not a good situation. Please, stay safe!

PROMPT: Queen of the Meadow (uselessness): "Be grateful you've got me. Who else would take care of such a useless thing like you?"

word count: Approximately 1.1k

Kujo Jotaro knew that this would happen. 

Since the beginning, days and months and years long gone to the winds of time, he’s known this. Before everything skewed, before everything turned for the worse and Jotaro didn’t think there was much to life besides growing up, getting a life, and then growing old. That death itself was merely just the destination, the end of the narrow and winding and precarious road that stretched for miles and miles on rocky terrain. That life was a pass-time meant to be spent filling it with whatever one so desired. 

And then, in the blink of an eye, Jotaro’s life flipped and suddenly the world lay beneath the top of his head. 

Life was no longer fun and easygoing. The hardest part had only just begun. And it was the longest one. Jotaro would never be the same. Death was his new beginning. The end of the way that Jotaro recklessly drove to because the hazardous roadblocks along were just too much. Too much lost, too much decayed. All of it—gone. 

But at least Jotaro had you. 

The flagger that guided Jotaro through the detour of denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and—the one Jotaro never thought he would be able to fathom—acceptance. To process the change of his new life, to accept the reality that Jotaro will never be able to live a normal life. 

You’ve been there since the start. The rev to his ignition. The spark that sent electricity coursing through his bones and made him feel alive. You’ve been there through it all. You’ve known Jotaro for all of these years. For so many years. You knew him and you stayed alive. You’re here, you’re breathing. You’re flesh and blood. Jotaro can stretch his arm out, let his fingertips trace the smoothness of your arm, and embrace you. You didn’t die. 

You survived it all and Jotaro couldn’t handle change. 

So, through the dark and harrowing black of the whispers in his mind, Jotaro stole you away. 

He took you away from the dangers of the world, away from all of the deadly and ominous threats that lurked in the shadows of his peripherals. He was keeping you safe, protecting you. Jotaro wanted nothing more than to make sure that your body remained unscathed and that beautiful mind stayed intact. To make sure you didn’t perish in the world that wanted nothing more than to eat you alive. 

Jotaro had done such a good job so far. He had. Keywords. 

Everything had been going so well. He was so in love with you, in love with a past he could never experience ever again. He had spent years perfecting himself, his methods, and your wellbeing. Trapped away, hidden in a place not a single soul would even dare to look. Jotaro kept your existence transparent. Everyone who could even be someone had forgotten that you’d even been a person, faded away from the claws of memory and disappeared within the flow. 

Stored in the walls of his home. Always there. Always smothered. Always suffocating. Caged where nothing could bring you harm. 

Years. Since that fateful trip to Egypt. Over twenty years. You’d been there. Crying, begging, sobbing, sniveling. You pleaded and you prayed—but Jotaro didn’t budge. How could he? Though you were completely shattered, you were where Jotaro could always protect you. 

So why? 

Why did you run away whenever he wasn’t looking? 

Jotaro reprimanded himself. Vicious and terrible words of anger stung his skin and he felt a gross spit in his mouth that he swished around and spat to the ground as he stormed forward. Cold tensions made him compress and shiver, but he was nothing except on fire. Embers of rage broiled and bubbled beneath the top of his skin, down deep where no scratch would alleviate. 

His eyes prickled with a temperature Jotaro had never known before as he glanced down at you. 

There, in his arms, lay your absolutely ravaged and demolished body. Bleeding, bruised, broken. So small, so weak, so tiny in his grasp as he clutched you closer and tightened his hold with a hushed snarl. Seafoam eyes roved down the cuts on your body, on the wounds of fate that would never heal no matter how much ointment he applied, and Jotaro felt like he might just go crazy by the sight alone. The curves of his filed nails left grooves into your clothes, into the marred flesh. The skin of his knuckles pale. 

Jotaro was furious. 

Furious at you? At the enemy Stand User that attacked you? At himself? 

Jotaro couldn’t answer that. 

The fact that he’d been right made him itch with this crawling sensations of pins and needles and Jotaro felt like he could flinch and arch away from himself as that realization dawned on him. As soon as you faced the world with those doe eyes, that naïve air, that joy and innocence and hope and love that made Jotaro feel like he was but a young boy again, Jotaro knew someone would prey on you. He’d been correct! You should have listened to him! DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND WHY HE DID THIS? WHY HE COVETED YOU?

Yet, you selfishly ran away from Jotaro! You fled and someone that wanted to make Jotaro suffer smirked and stalked your frail self like a cat to a mouse. An enemy that must have been watching his house, keeping a close track on him, and see? Even whenever Jotaro thought he was safe, something had to happen to make him doubt himself. 

Death had almost taken you and Jotaro couldn’t comprehend. 

Had Jotaro not arrived in time to save you, there might not even be a heartbeat pumping through your body. You would be dead. Dead. And Jotaro feels like his stomach is turning and twisting into knots that make him feel drunk. He almost staggers. The Kujo Jotaro. A man that’s so collected, so prepared, so still. Weaving and wobbling like he was absolutely plastered and it’s all because he can’t stop the eventual panic searing his poor mind. 

Jotaro feels his vision go for a spin and he grits his teeth with a disgruntled groan. 

He can’t believe it. 

He was right. 

He was always right. 

And Jotaro feels a scalding conflagration of blinding white fill his world as he stares down at your body in pinched agony and growls, 

“Tch, dammit. You don’t understand. Everything I’ve done is for you. Now you could die. Be grateful you’ve got me. Who else would take care of such a useless thing like you?”

Jotaro’s head veered forward, dangling and swaying over your heaving body like a slurred riff of musical static, and he stared at the wince of sleepy pain etched onto your features with a gaunt and haunted swallow. 

“Because I can’t lose the only thing left.” 

Not again.

[whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk]

@nessianweek Day 5: Music. A scene I wished we had in ACOSF: Cassian filling the symphonia with Nesta's favourite music because he's a massive simp who knows no limits when it comes to the woman he loves.

Overture

Overture: noun. An orchestral piece at the beginning of an opera; an introduction to something more substantial. 

Hope springs eternal amongst optimists and fools, but Cassian was hoping he was neither.

It had taken root within him last night. A hope he wanted desperately to believe was neither foolish nor needlessly optimistic, a hope that had bloomed in the darkness of the Hewn City. So far removed from the sky littered with stars, Cassian had felt hope ignite like a fledgling flame last night— so tremblingly new, so fragile. Hope he didn’t ever want to see die. 

All because of a dance.

The second Nesta had stepped onto the dance floor, Cassian had been mesmerised. She was a thing of beauty spearing through the horror and cruelty, and he’d never seen a thing more wondrous, more magnificent.

Language had failed him. Words hadn’t been enough, didn’t do her justice. 

She was stunning. So agonisingly beautiful in Night Court black that he’d almost fallen to his knees. Glamoured to mask the scent of him that clung to her, Cassian hadn’t thought he could want her more— but he was aching now, burning with longing that had nothing to do with the marks he’d left on her skin, the dress that made her look like a conqueror, a goddess. No, ever since last night, he had been desperate for her in an entirely new way, all because of the way she had sparked when the band struck up.

In the cradle of the melody, in the arms of the sonata, Nesta had come alive. 

It was a sight he wanted to treasure forever, one that he would carry with him to his dying day, and one that he would do anything in his power to see again. She’d told him she liked music, but he hadn’t realised just how much, and it was with that knowledge that he had woken early that morning and returned to the Hewn City. Willingly descended into the darkness and let the mountain swallow him whole. 

He could think of nothing but her. His siphons burned as he stood once more in that throne room, thinking solely of how she’d moved across that floor but hours ago. How, if these walls could speak, they’d write eulogies about the night Nesta Archeron danced in their hall.

He hadn’t tasted fresh air for over an hour, nor glimpsed a single shaft of sunlight. All that survived down here was darkness and cruelty— and, apparently, music.

The Court of Nightmares had music. Refrains he’d never before paid attention to, ballads he’d never had much reason to note. The band in the corner had been there at every celebration he’d ever attended here, but he’d never before stepped onto the dance floor. For centuries, he’d spent each agonising engagement leaning menacingly against a pillar, but all of that had changed last night. Nesta had been lost in the music, and Cassian had found himself lost too. Suddenly the music wasn’t just a combination of instruments and notes, scales and arpeggios. It was her. A piece of her she’d kept hidden, one that made him breathless with longing. She had echoed the beat, followed it, anticipated it, as if it were a part of her. As if it were a song composed for her and her alone, and the rest of them were just lucky bystanders— blessed to even witness it.

Fucking Nesta was one thing, but oh, Cassian wanted so much more. Yearned for so, so much more. No matter how many times he’d had her, how many times they met, frantic, clawing at one another in a rush of tearing clothes and plundering kisses… It wasn’t enough. He wanted to fall asleep at her side. To wake in the mornings and see the sunlight kiss her face, to brush her shoulder with his fingertips, his touch one of devotion.

The look in her eyes as she danced… The way she moved to the music as if it were a language created solely for her… Cassian wanted to see that look on her face every damn day for the rest of eternity.

So as soon as dawn had broken, he’d sought out and paid a small fortune for a tiny device Helion had once told him of. One that trapped and contained music, to be played again and again as much as the heart desired— as much as Nesta’s heart desired. 

With the symphonia in hand, he’d flown right here— back to the Court of Nightmares, the place that, despite everything, had the music Nesta so adored. Hope glistened, warm in his chest as he looked at the symphonia and thought of her. He hoped to see that smile again on her face, dreamed of the way her eyes would light up as she realised what the symphonia was, what it did. He hoped that she’d let him kiss her the way he’d wanted to from their very first meeting— softly, reverently. Not just to get her into his bed, but to show her how deep his devotion ran. He hoped the symphonia would prove to her how much he adored her. How much she meant. 

Hoped, too, that he wasn’t a fool for dreaming.

***

Casting a red glow on the smooth cut floors, his seven siphons made sinister shadows of the carved walls. The dips and crevices in the rock, the monstrous engravings… made all the more fearsome when bathed in crimson. Yet Cassian barely gave them a second look. Didn’t even blink as he paced before Rhys’ vacant throne and looked out at the musicians assembled before him.

“Again,” he instructed, voice echoing in the emptiness of the throne room. The vast space was almost bare, all decoration from the night before vanished. As if it had never happened, as if Nesta hadn’t damn near brought this entire court to its knees without uttering a single word. 

The instruction was for the musicians. For the conductor standing there, looking slightly faint. 

It was not for the steward of the Hewn City, the bastard standing closer to that throne than any of them. To Cassian’s utter fucking chagrin, he had insisted on bearing witness to this entire thing, and Keir smirked now— triumphant, wanting to ruin this in any way he could. Cassian had never loathed him more. 

With a furrowed brow, the conductor practically trembled as he stepped forward, as if just being in the presence of the mighty general of the Night Court was something to fear. Cassian even let his siphons flare just a little. He had never relished or enjoyed the reputation Rhys cultivated in this court, but today… if it got him what he needed, if it let him give Nesta what she needed, then Cassian had precisely zero qualms about a bloodthirsty reputation. He’d embrace it with open arms if it meant those arms could finally hold Nesta as she slept.

“It was perfect that time—“ the conductor began, but his words died as Cassian shook his head sharply.

“No,” Cassian countered. “It wasn’t.”

He cast a glance at Keir, standing to the side, right next to that carved throne. Keir had coughed. Cleared his throat deliberately whilst the piano and the violin reached a crescendo. The bastard had coughed, and though Cassian couldn’t be sure the symphonia had picked it up, it wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. If he didn’t have other places to be, he might well have broken each and every one of Keir’s fingers.

“Who knew the Lord of Bloodshed had such a discerning ear,” Keir remarked archly, eyes narrowed in distaste as he took in all seven of those gleaming siphons, the fists Cassian had clenched. He kept his temper tightly reined whenever he suffered the presence of Mor’s ghastly father, and he had endured so many slights and insults over the centuries that there was generally little Keir could say to really get under his skin. But in this, in something that wasn’t for him at all but for Nesta… It was swiftly becoming unbearable, and Cassian needed to get this done before he really did break Keir’s fingers.

“Keep it up, Keir, and the only music these halls will hear for the next decade will be your screams as I peel your skin from your bones.” 

The threat only earned Cassian another smirk, one he ignored as he stepped forward towards the small wooden table set up beside the conductor. The small silver symphonia sitting atop looked so out of place here— so bright and beautiful, practically glowing in the dim light, that Cassian thought it was fitting, really. He’d endure centuries of this darkness, plunge himself into the deepest, most malevolent parts of the world, all for her— Nesta was the bright and beautiful crack in the blackness, the light at the heart of his world. 

He tapped the symphonia the way he’d been instructed, and when it began to glow softly, he nodded to the conductor and the assembled musicians and said, “Again.”

This time when the violinist drew his bow over the strings, Cassian gave Keir a look that said he didn’t make idle threats. Letting his hand drift to the hilt of the dagger at his thigh, Cassian kept his eyes trained on him as the music built, and built, and built, and only when it was done - truly perfect, this time - did he uncurl his fingers from around the leather-wrapped hilt, pluck up the silver device from the table, and leave without a backward glance.

***

It was an overture.

The symphonia, the music— it was a promise of something more, a prayer for something more meaningful.

A foundation laid, a promise given. Cassian kept his fingers wrapped tightly around that tiny piece of wondrous engineering as he navigated the narrow streets and back alleys of the most unsavoury part of Velaris. He hoped she’d know— that she’d see this for what it was. A beginning. The prologue of the story he so desperately wanted to write with her. Hoped that when she heard the music, she’d read in the symphonia the words he couldn’t yet say aloud.

I love you.

I love you, every facet and every piece. I love you, and I am yours.

Hoped that when he next kissed her, when she next let him in her bed, she’d ask him to stay.

He reached a battered oak door beneath an aged and swinging tavern sign. The White Hart, renowned for its gambling den and watered down beer— hardly famed for its orchestra. And yet, he’d found Nesta here on several occasions since the war, and each time she’d sworn she’d only came for the music. He’d never believed her, but after last night, he realised how foolish he had been. 

He was met instantly with the scent of old ale and cheap wine. His feet stuck to the floor as he walked, spilled drinks and Mother only knew what else thick beneath his boots. Oh, he’d been so foolish. He should have taken Nesta to the opera. Should have gotten her tickets to the theatre, accompanied her to musicals and proms, concerts under the stars. Instead, he’d left her alone to search for a melody in the seediest of taverns, down the darkest of alleys. Guilt and regret settled heavily in his gut as he cast his gaze about this tavern, and he swore that after Solstice, after he’d gifted her the symphonia and all but surrendered his heart entirely, he’d take her to every show, every performance. Every genre, every theme— he’d promise her all of it. 

He’d give her the music she wanted, the songs and the symphonies, because he’d failed her before, and he refused to do so again. 

Ever.

***

“You’re out of your mind,” the barkeep scoffed, little impressed by Cassian’s seven siphons. He towered over the bar, a burly figure almost as tall and as broad as Cassian, with no hair on his head and a thick beard covering his jaw. Unlike the conductor at the Hewn City, this man would not be swayed by a fearsome reputation. Cassian supposed you didn’t run an establishment like this, in this part of town, without growing a thick skin so… Threats wouldn’t get him what he wanted this time. 

“This lot play their best when they’re deep in their cups,” the barman continued, waving a hand towards the group of fae sitting at the edge of a raised platform that served as a stage. One was restringing a lute, the only indication that they were, indeed, the musicians Cassian was looking for. The rest sat smoking, playing cards, their instruments mostly discarded around them. “They’re far too sober for what you need, General.”

“I don’t care,” Cassian shrugged, leaning on the hammered bronze-topped bar. “Tell them to play.”

A curt, dismissive, shrug was his only response. 

“It’s important,” Cassian pressed. “I need them to play for me.”

With an exasperated sigh, the barkeep shook his head. He wiped at a puddle of ale with a rag that had seen better days, before looking Cassian up and down and saying, slyly, “For the High Lady’s sister then, is it?”

Cassian didn’t know if he was just that obvious, or if the barman could scent Nesta on him, her perfume lingering on his skin. He rather hoped it was the latter— hoped that she’d marked him in some way, that he carried a piece of her with him wherever he went. Still, the sly smile of the barkeep made him scowl. “What would you know of it?” he asked flatly. 

“I know you came here looking for her once or twice,” the barman shrugged, “and I know that she’s the only fucking soul that actually seemed to like the music they put out.” He hummed lightly, contemplatively. “I figure if you’re here here wanting them to play, it’s for her. Which is fine. I liked her.” He braced his arms on the bar, looking at Cassian with interest. “Never gave me any trouble, always tipped well.”

His eyes drifted to the stage, to the small space that served as a makeshift dance floor, little more than a wide gap between tables. Cassian wondered if this man had seen Nesta lost in the music too. If it had dragged him under her spell the way it had Cassian. 

Pulling out a heavy gold coin, enough to buy an entire night’s worth of ale, Cassian raised an eyebrow. Holding it up between his thumb and forefinger, he said, “If you truly liked her— tell them to play.”

The barman considered the coin, his gaze flitting between it and the dance floor Nesta must have once made her own. After a long moment, he shook his head ruefully, pointing at the symphonia Cassian had pulled from his pocket and set on the bar.

“It’s no good,” he insisted. “You say it stores sounds? Then what am I to do about my patrons?” He waved a hand at the handful of fae lingering by the bar, refilling their tankards as soon as they were drained. At the four occupied gambling tables. Cassian had thought he’d find the place empty since it was early in the afternoon, but Solstice made the people start early, it seemed. “They’re far too loud for such a thing, surely.”

With such perfect, ironic, timing Cassian half wondered whether it was deliberate, a glass was smashed on the other side of the room, a fight breaking out over a game of cards. The barman did nothing to intervene, only folded his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow as if to say, see?

“So get them out,” Cassian said simply, dipping into his pocket and producing a small purse, one heavy and weighted with more golden coins. This was swiftly becoming the most expensive gift he’d ever given anybody, ever— but Nesta was worth it. Each gold coin and each copper penny— worth it. “All of them.”

Warily, the barman sighed. “They won’t be happy,” he warned, but he took the purse in hand nonetheless. Cassian shot him a wicked grin, and let his siphons pulse brighter. 

“Leave it to me.”

***

By order of the High Lord this establishment is to be closed immediately, effective until this evening.

Cassian snorted to himself as the musicians lingering in the corner picked up their instruments and, with no small degree of exasperation, prepared to play. Rhys would be furious when he found out— that Cassian had made such a declaration, in a voice that carried, echoed, drowning out the grunts and groans from the disgruntled patrons of the White Hart. That he’d muscled several drunken citizens out of the backstreet tavern, all ostensibly at the High Lord’s command— in the name of filling the symphonia with Nesta’s favourite songs.

An absurd abuse of power but… What else was he to do?

Stroll casually over to a table of gamblers and say, you need to leave because I want the band to play some songs for the woman I love? Hold the door open for them and say, I’ve closed the place down because Nesta’s solstice gift requires it, and I’d apologise for the inconvenience except I’m not sorry at all? 

The barman polished glasses as Cassian sat at a table before that little stage, the symphonia ready and waiting. The lutist began to play, flautists following, and when he heard the strains, Cassian couldn’t help but think of what would happen when he handed the symphonia over. After he placed it in a tiny little box, tied it off with a pretty little bow… What then?

This clever little device was so much more than something to just record sounds.

It was his entire heart, held out, offered on bended knee. It was him telling her that, though they’d spent months mindlessly fucking, he didn’t want that anymore. He saw every piece of her— each melody, all of her harmonies. Each note, each rhythm. He saw it all. Loved it all.

He’d hand her everything. Give her every piece of him until there was nothing left, if only she’d take it. 

Gods, he wanted nothing more than for her to take it. 

As the band continued to play, Cassian watched the symphonia glow, storing the sound of Nesta’s favourite song. This wasn’t just a collection of music— not just a novelty gift he’d picked up at short notice. This was every last piece of hope Cassian had, held within it like the songs it captured. It was his dream for the future, one where Nesta could never doubt how completely he was hers. One where she was his, too. 

The piece reached its crescendo, loud and vibrant, echoing down to his very bones, and Cassian closed his eyes, praying that whatever happened when he gave her this gift…

It was just the overture. 

[dramioneficrecommendations]

Best Draco/Hermione Fics Dramione Shippers Read in 2020

A few days ago, I asked you what were the best Dramione fics you'd read in 2020. Here's the huge list of your excellent recs (in alphabetical order):

A Creature Most Unusual by JMilz: Draco Malfoy is on a mission. Unfortunately, Hermione Granger catches him in the act. When she sees that he has adopted a rather unusual magical creature, she becomes determined to make sure he takes care of it. Little does she know, the animal may hold her key to eternal glory . . . and a whirlwind romance. M, 9 Chapters, 24,460 Words

A Little More Alive, Far Less Lost by MGL_Dramione_Lover: After Draco's post-war trial, he finds himself attending his 8th year at Hogwarts with Hermione. As remorse and acceptance replace anger and hate, the old enemies begin a friendship that sparks into much more than they ever hoped for. Hermione's goal as Head Girl is to banish old prejudices and unite the school while Draco's only wish is to become a man worthy of her love. M, 22 Chapters, 84,823

A New Light by mithrilstarlight: Draco spent six years doing his best to keep his head down. Then he runs into Hermione Granger. Turns out, they actually have a lot in common.Chapters posted M/W/F. T, 18 Chapters, 33,876 Words

A Second Look by RiverWriter: Her best friend's life was a mess and she would have done anything to make things better for him and his sons. So, when she found her former enemy in a similar situation her heart went out to him as well... and the beautiful blond baby in his arms didn't hurt his case. It was certainly enough for her to give him a second look. M, 30 Chapters, 127,243 Words

All that is Rare by smithandbarrowman: In the wizarding world, it has long been assumed that men are Alphas and women are Omegas. However, when Hermione Granger discovers that assumptions are rarely factual, her status as one of only a handful of female alphas that has ever existed has men falling at her feet.But there’s only one man she wants, and like the male alphas before her, the hunt is on until he bears her mark. E, 31 Chapters, 119,755 Words

All the Wrong Things by LovesBitca8: Sequel to "The Right Thing to Do" - Draco's POV. Part 2 of the "Rights and Wrongs" series. E, 24 Chapters, 160,297 Words

All You Want by senlinyu: Eighth Year at Hogwarts was supposed to be Hermione’s. And it is, just not in the way she expects. Omegaverse fic. E, 36 Chapters, 172,651

apples & cream by LovesBitca8: She could have taken her things and gone through his Floo without a word. She could have ignored him on Monday morning, as though last night had been no more than a fever dream and too much Firewhisky. But she’d come back to bed. Inspired by the lovely NikitaJuice's "apples & cream." E, 1 Chapter, 1,426 Words

Beginning and End by mightbewriting: Years. Broken into months into weeks into days—into hours, minutes, seconds—into moments. Simple at one end, complex at the other. In Draco’s experience, moments, even when simple, had a habit of becoming irretrievable. Moments grew, stretched, multiplied into ages and eras that defined whole stretches of measurable time. Draco regretted several moments in his life, some within his control, some without: all of them irretrievable in nature. At a certain point, wedged between ‘what-ifs’ of his own devising, he’d stopped trying to keep track of those regrettable moments: now and then, pushing and pulling, coming and going, beginning and end. Moments were only moments for just as long. After that, he had no control. A Draco POV prequel to Wait and Hope. E, 48 Chapters, 242,100 Words

Bells on a Hill by HeyJude19: Left by his fiancée a month before the ceremony, Draco never got his dream wedding, so agreeing to assist Granger with her own wedding planning to distract himself from his broken engagement seems like a great idea—though Draco probably shouldn't fall in love with the bride-to-be. Based very (very) loosely on The Wedding Singer. T, WIP

Bending Light by scullymurphy: Draco Malfoy was in exile, though they called it protection. It was the summer after sixth year and he'd taken Dumbledore's offer, defected to the other side and been sent away to a small town in Italy for his troubles. No magic, few rules, and not a lot to do - until Hermione Granger showed up. M, WIP

Break for me by Ada_P_Rix: COMPLETE _______________ "-I told them this wouldn’t work.” He cut in through gritted teeth as he kept his eyes on Hermione, making her pulse quicken and she couldn’t help but clench her thighs together at the rough, husky tone of his voice. He didn’t miss it; his eyes landed on her thighs and they darkened even further. “I can’t help her when all I feel like I want to do is pin her down and fuck her into the mattress.” _______________ Hermione gets into a little accident at work and is infected with a hybrid potion created to cause certain heightened side effects. Draco offers to stick around to give his work partner a little support ... if he can Occlude long enough to resist her... E, 7 Chapters, 45,107 Words

Breath Mints / Battle Scars by Onyx_and_Elm: For a moment, she's almost giddy. Because Draco Malfoy's been ruined by this war and he's as out of place as she is and — yes, he has scars too. He's got an even bigger one. She wonders whether one day they'll compare sizes. E, 51 Chapters, 148,908 Words

Bring Him to His Knees by Musyc: Draco is on the case of a murderer, but to investigate, he needs a fake relationship - and a kink club play partner. When Hermione volunteers to take the role, both do their best to maintain the lie without letting each other know the truth: neither of them are acting. E, WIP

Calendar Boys by anne_ammons, Nadiapolyakova (Rijaya83): She had thrown out the idea on a lark, but now Hermione Granger was tasked with bringing the charity calendar to life. What was one more thing on her list? An art/writing collaboration between nadiapolyakova and anne_ammons - twelve photos and a piece of the story behind them. M, WIP

Cherry Mint by dirtymudblood: "He could smell her. Even multiple train cars away, he could smell her. Except, Draco didn’t know who she was. He ignored his natural instincts to pant like a dog and follow the scent to the omega in the beginning stages of heat. Instead he willed himself to rub his knuckles against the rough wood of the table in front of him." E, 27 Chapters, 58,081 Words

Dark Water and Dying Eyebrights by bexchan: One of them is desperately trying to remember their past while the other is forever trying to escape theirs. It's seven years after the war and Draco has managed to avoid almost everyone from Hogwarts, living a lonely life on a small island, far away from the wizarding community. But a familiar face in a cafe window capsizes his world into chaos. Dramione. EWE. Memory fic. M, WIP

Difficult by provocative envy: COMPLETE: "I should," I repeated. "But I don't want to." And then he smiled, and I was wrecked. HG/DM. M, 30 Chapters, 87,041 Words

Don't Look Back by Onyx_and_Elm: It’s the smell of it. Chemical. Bitter and sharp as a raw edge on metal. Just a hint of it as she passes him at breakfast — but enough to stop her dead, mid-step. There is Wolfsbane in his tea. E, WIP

Don't Threaten Me with a Good Time by monsterleadmehome: She scoffs. “If you must know, he ‘elected’ me because he thinks our shared animosity will keep you in check. He’s also not worried about you trying to shag me as a distraction.” He leans back, stubbing out his cigarette on the banister. His eyes rove over her from crown to toe and back. She lifts her chin and tries not to shiver. “Well, he’s right about that.” Lucius Malfoy hires Hermione Granger to whip his son into shape so he can find a pure-blood bride and receive his inheritance. What could go wrong? E, 10 Chapters, 48,092 Words

Draco's Gift by TriDogMom: Draco gives Hermione a gift because of an instructional YouTube video. M, 1 Chapter, 1,705 Words

Dragon in the Dark by GracefulLioness: The battle is won, Voldemort is dead, but the war is far from over. In the new Death Eater regime, Draco Malfoy does what he must to survive and keep his mother safe. Now a highly trained assassin, Draco has learned to think of his targets as inhuman beings, but when he is tasked with killing someone from his past, he can no longer hide from the horrors of the world around him. E, 31 Chapters, 164,782 Words

For a Present Under the Tree by grace_lou_freebush: When Draco and Hermione eloped, the Wizarding World turned against them. Hermione is stuck in a low level, low paying Ministry job with no hope of upward movement. Draco can't even convince someone to hire him. Now, it's Christmas, and Draco knows Hermione deserves the world - or at the least a Christmas gift. He finds the perfect hair comb to replace the horrid Muggle brush she's been making due with, and he'll do anything to afford the paltry present so he can have something to put under the Christmas tree for his wife. Making a beeline for the jewelry box containing the hair combs, Draco rifled through them, landing on an ivory comb with queen anne rose carvings and gold filigree detailing. He brought it to the startled shopkeeper and set it down gently. Pulling his sixth generation Malfoy heirloom pocket watch from his coat, he shoved it in the wizard's face without second guessing himself. "I would like to make an exchange." E, 1 Chapter, 10,141 Words

Fortuitous by MrsRen: Recently divorced Draco doesn't believe in the ideology of having one true love. He certainly doesn't expect to meet his match in a Halloween themed coffee shop, but fate has a peculiar way of giving you just what you need. M, 13 Chapters, 93,695 Words

Fuck, Marry, Avada by Lilian_Silver: Some years after the war, the gang meets up at the Leaky to play a silly game, with very real consequences. E, 1 Chapter, 3,106 Words

Give Me An Hour by RZZMG: As the war continues to rage on around them, Hermione Granger decides to seduce fellow Order Member, Draco Malfoy, one night while at Grimmauld Place... and everything between them changes after that. Fic follows the "five times" trope, and is dedicated to raspberryjukebox. One-shot. A/U-Extended War scenario. Dramione. Drama-Romance-Hot Shag! COMPLETE! M, 1 Chapter, 3,251 Words

Good Girl by arabellaleyes: Hermione is tired of their normal routine in the bedroom. What will happen when she asks Draco to spice things up? One-shot. Complete. M, 1 Chapter, 9,000 Words

Hindsight by floorcoaster: It's a New Year and Hermione decides it's time to make some changes. T, 12 Chapters, 167,694 Words

How to Love Thy Neighbour by WhatSoMalfoy: After her relationship with Ron falls apart, Hermione attempts to juggle a personal muggle life with a professional wizarding one. After encountering her high school nemesis in the most unlikely place, Hermione adds another ball to the juggling mix. M, 14 Chapters, 41,992 Words

How to Move On by longdistance: It's been nearly a decade since the war. A long time since she locked herself away. A long time since he faced his mistakes. She's what he wants. He's what she needs. It's time for both of them to figure out how to move on. M, WIP

Hydrotherapy by eilonwy: Draco finds a trip to the showers after playing Quidditch... enlightening. E, 2 Chapters, 7,163 Words

I Choose You by melanoradrood: At the end of Fifth Year, Hermione finds out why It is that none have approached her with a Marital Contract, the only way she can remain in the Wizarding World after Graduation. It has already been signed by her Magical Guardian, someone she has never met - she is to be the next Lady Malfoy. A year and a half later, she is a married witch, but still, Draco Malfoy, who had chosen her above all others, had not spoken of it. In fact, they barely spoke at all. And when trouble heads their way, Hermione means to change that. Really, she means to change a lot of things. E, 5 Chapters, 24,527 Words

Isolation by Bex-chan: He can't leave the room. Her room. And it's all the Order's fault. Confined to a small space with only the Mudblood for company, something's going to give. Maybe his sanity. Maybe not. "There," she spat. "Now your Blood's filthy too!" DM/HG. PostHBP. Now complete with epilogue. M, 49 Chapters, 284,050 Words

It Happened in Egypt by bionically: Wandless in Egypt: Draco's stranded in Egypt, but luckily, there's a Granger in sight. Now, if only he could be prevented from strangling her. Fun times abroad: It was supposed to be a leisurely solo trip down the Nile. Hermione didn't factor in one blond man from her past and all his drama. Then, of course, there's the fact that everyone's after him. Much hilarity ensues. Maybe. *** A rom-com adventure/mystery featuring two unwilling partners on the run from Lucius Malfoy, alien-hunters, Muggle police, and local wizards engaged in a civil war. T, WIP

Love and Other Misfortunes by senlinyu: Draco Malfoy is dying. He's part-Veela and needs his mate to survive. Post-war, Hermione Granger is a workaholic, up to her eyeballs in legal activism on behalf of Magical Beings, and hasn't yet noticed that Malfoy is the Magical Being who needs her most. “Because I don’t want to be saved by you just because you feel like you have to.” He was properly furious now. “I’m in love with you." Hermione stared at him. She knew but somehow hearing him say it made the air shimmer with magic. "I’m in love with you,” he said again, despairingly. “And that means I want you to be as happy as you possibly can. And you won’t be, not with me.” M, 23 Chapters, 98,584 Words 

Manacled by senlinyu: Harry Potter is dead. In the aftermath of the war, in order to strengthen the might of the magical world, Voldemort enacts a repopulation effort. Hermione Granger has an Order secret, lost but hidden in her mind, so she is sent as an enslaved surrogate to the High Reeve until her mind can be cracked.Now illustrated by Avendell. E, 77 Chapters, 370,473 Words

Measure Of A Man by inadaze22: To truly know someone is to differentiate between who they once were, who they are now, and who they're capable of being. Hermione realises the duality of one man as she rectifies what she knows of the past and begins to understand the pieces of who Draco Malfoy is now: a father, a son, and a man. E, WIP

Meet the Malfoys by raven_maiden: 4 Works, 21, 442 Words

of flavoured names and coloured sounds by Pink Panda (Ejacyeolation): "He doesn’t question it at first, the fact that sounds have colours and words have flavours. He grows up with it, grows up seeing powerful ruptures of colour when his mother plays the piano and softer, translucent bursts when the people around him speak. His father’s voice fills his vision with sombre oranges and lilacs while his mother’s is a pleasant mix of delicate greens, blues, and greys. The word father tastes like wet wood and the word mother tastes like the pumpkin juice the house-elves frequently serve him."In which Draco just wants to know what colour Hermione's moans would be. He also wants to know if her skin would taste as sweet as her surname or maybe as intoxicating as her given name. E, 2 Chapters, 10,351

Once Upon a Night by longdistance: One night will change everything. M, 17 Chapters, 57,444 Words

One and Done by PacificRimbaud: Hermione Granger has a career she loves, friends she can depend on, and a nice set of hand towels for her new flat. She's single and tired of tiresome men, but that doesn't stop her from wearing beautiful lingerie underneath her serious Ministry skirts. Or having pictures taken in naughty knickers. Just once. For herself. Draco Malfoy doesn't get upset at the sight of blood, which is good, because he sees a lot of it. What he doesn't see a lot of is Hermione Granger in her unmentionables. Usually. A series of meetings and mix-ups in which one cannot possibly mean done. E, 4 Chapters, 35,011 Words

Our shared silence by Vofastudum: She wakes up one morning and everyone is just gone, vanished like they never existed at all. Everyone but Him. And in this silent solitude, he's all she has. Hermione and Draco alone in empty castle. Mystery and a plot twist you didn't see coming! EDITED 10/2020 M, 17 Chapters, 40,149 Words

Pinned by bionically: Draco doesn't know what he's expecting when he follows Blaise down a dark alley, but it certainly isn't this. For a man with an addictive personality, this isn't going to turn out well. Assigned trope: Voyeurism *** Or, a chance encounter with a frizzy-haired witch from his misbegotten past in the last place anyone should have expected to see her sets Draco's disordered life on its ear. The path to redemption is truly paved with unexpected surprises. E, 20 Chapters, 110,886 Words

Really Sell It by RoseHarperMaxwell: Draco's having a rough eighth year, and Hermione's going to make it better for him. "Well, it’s clear what needs to happen.” She gripped his chin, tilting his head to make sure she hadn’t missed any injuries, before looking straight into his eyes. “You’re my boyfriend now.” *Featuring fake dating, exhibitionism, and sex-positive Hermione Granger. Submission for Farewell to Summer: The 31 Flavors of Smut Fest. E, 1 Chapters, 7,612 Words

Remain Nameless by HeyJude19: How did it feel? It felt like he was barely holding it together. She, of all people, should shun him. Or yell at him. Curse him. Spit at him. Take out her wand and blast him off the face of the earth. It was crushing guilt and relief and confusion all at once when he looked at Hermione Granger. The monotony of Draco’s daily routine had become both a lifeline and a noose. But this new habit of grabbing coffee with Hermione Granger is quickly becoming a reason to get out of bed and is unfortunately forcing him to re-evaluate his inconsequential existence. Hermione is living her life in fragments, separate pieces scattered about, and she can’t find a way to step back and let the full picture form. Why are morning meetings with Draco Malfoy the only thing that make sense anymore? E, 51 Chapters, 312,315 Words

Remember Us As War (but call us forgiveness) by Anyaparadox: Following the devastation of the Battle of Hogwarts, The Wizarding Population Growth Act is put into effect. All witches and wizards will be matched with their most compatible partner. Failure to comply will not be tolerated. Survival is key. Hermione reminds herself of this. Survival. She can fix this, if only she can survive. The war has made this a task she is equipped for. Marrying Draco Malfoy will hardly be the worst thing she's ever endured. M, WIP

Ring A Ring O' Roses by Gallivant: Dark Magic, Dark Wizards and a mysterious and deadly Dark Flux, which, in the wrong hands, has the terrifying potential to mass-murder Muggles and Muggle-borns ... It’s been fourteen years since the end of the Second Wizarding War and the Wizarding World is settled, stable and seemingly safe… Hermione Weasley has it all: a loving family, a successful career - and happiness… of sorts. But a series of unexpected events is about to turn her life upside-down, threatening those she loves, fatally undermining the peace between worlds that has prevailed for centuries … changing life as she knows it, possibly forever. If working with Draco Malfoy was the last thing Hermione Weasley ever wanted, falling for your enemy was the least expected. A quest to thwart a magical weapon of mass destruction has devastating consequences. A race to save the world, becomes a race to save themselves… M, 65 Chapters, 527,141 Chapters

Set Fire to the Rain by HarleyQuinn1317: What happens when the one you're destined for is the last person you should ever be with... When the Ministry of Magic asks for volunteers for their Marriage Initiative, Hermione Granger must come to terms with the one terrible deed she committed during the Second Wizarding War. Can she find it in her heart to forgive herself and finally learn to let love in? E, WIP

Sex and Occlumency by Graendoll: Hermione didn't escape from the war unscathed, and when she finally decides on a solution to her problems she's left to explore it on her own. A chance encounter with Draco Malfoy sets her world on it's head and leads her down a path towards healing that she would never have anticipated. E, 18 Chapters, 65,079 Words

The Art of Seating Etiquette by inadaze22: Hermione believes that every problem has a solution, and that solution can be found in a book. That is, until Draco starts sitting to her right every Friday. She has no answers until help comes in the form of an unlikely source: Ron Weasley. E, 1 Chapter, 9,734 Words

The Auction by LovesBitca8: In the wake of the Dark Lord’s triumph over Harry Potter, the defeated must learn their new place. Hermione Granger, former Golden Girl, has been captured and reduced to human chattel. Sold to the highest bidder as the top prize at an auction of Order members and sympathizers, she is thrust into the rabid, waiting hands of the Death Eaters. But despite the horrors of Voldemort’s new world, help—and hope—seem to arise from the most unlikely of places. PART 3 of the RIGHTS AND WRONGS series. E, 41 Chapters, 325,702 Words

The Binding by Curly_Kay: “Okay, what we know so far.” Hermione listed, "One, our magic is drawing us together. Two, we can use each other’s wands. Three, there were actual sparks when you touched me."After an infant binding ritual magically joins Hermione and Draco to counteract the Black family blood curse, they must navigate the secret binding through their years together at Hogwarts. E, 35 Chapters, 175,451 Words

The Carnal Club by Ada_P_Rix: COMPLETE The Halloween Ball is fast approaching with Hermione at the helm.... What a delightful time to suddenly learn of a centuries old secret sex-game club that is currently ran by a Blonde haired Slytherin. Oh, and it only happens once a year every October, when the winner takes all at the Halloween Ball ...The First Rule of Carnal Club: You do not talk about Carnal Club. E, 8 Chapters, 43,306 Words

The Disappearances of Draco Malfoy by Speechwriter (batmansymbol): The night that Harry and Dumbledore return from the cave, the Death Eaters are delayed from reaching the top of the Astronomy Tower for one more minute. Draco Malfoy lowers his wand. A Deathly Hallows rewrite in which Draco accepts Dumbledore's offer to fake his death and go into hiding with the Order of the Phoenix. T, WIP

The Erised Effect by Ada_P_Rix: Hermione and Pansy work in a shop together. Draco, Harry, Theo and Blaise all work together at the Ministry. They all meet up every Friday at the pub to have drinks. Pansy has a new fantasy potion that she likes to call 'The Erised Effect' that she's keen to try out on willing participants ... Boys are so easy to manipulate when alcohol is involved .... E, 13 Chapters, 88,852 Words

The Fallout by everythursday: Hermione learns about growing up through the redemption of Draco Malfoy. E, 49 Chapters, 310,229 Words

The Figures of Figuring Out by Vofastudum: You were the biggest riddle in my life. You were the one I couldn't figure out. You were the only thing I couldn't find a pattern to. You were something I couldn't look up from any book. Unwritten, with no instructions. And I was used to finding solutions! Post-war eight-year secret romance. Edited 12/2020 M, 13 Chapters, 26,951 Words

The Flat in Bath by Ada_P_Rix: Loosely inspired by 365 Days...-- Malfoy grabbed her chin, forcing her to look directly at him. “Don’t you dare, Granger...” He told her roughly as his intense gaze bored into her own. “I fucking forbid you to come until I’ve had enough of you...” Draco caught her cheeks now between the fingers of his free hand and then snapped her head to the side and licked her earlobe, trailing down to her jawline. “...one flutter of those delicious walls of yours and you’re going to wish you never opened your legs for me.” -- __________________ Hermione is kidnapped during a raid and taken captive by someone who doesn't plan on 'torturing' her in the conventional way... E, WIP

The Gloriana Set by ThebeMoon: The War is won, and Hermione Granger is back at Hogwarts as an “Eighth Year”, feeling reckless and determined to shed her prim bookworm persona. She will do as she pleases, and anyone who doesn’t like it will see the business end of her wand. Also returning is Draco Malfoy, universally hated but determined to restore his family’s name. Hermione’s hopes for a quiet school year are quickly dashed as she contends with mischievous First Years, killer plants, enchanted hair accessories, a totally inappropriate Moaning Myrtle, renegade Death Eaters, a nice vampire, a poorly named study group, a depraved party, and mysterious, threatening blood messages on the castle walls. We have redemption, partial redemption and (sadly or hilariously) no redemption at all. Throw in a snarky, disturbingly attractive Draco with his own secret agenda, and we have a very slow-burn Dramione with a side of who-dun-it. COMPLETE! M, 81 Chapters, 271,830 Words

The Library of Alexandria by senlinyu: The Library of Alexandria is not for just any witch or wizard. Many bookworms may try but few are permitted to pass through its doors. The books residing there are ancient and powerful and, if one happens to make a mistake, the consequences can be rather—novel. E, 6 Chapters, 26,383 Words

The List by AureliaBlack90: After her divorce, Hermione decides to get out of town to recover from the pain of her lost relationship and the miscarriage she suffered a year previously. She arrives in the Cotswolds depressed and aimless but compiles a list of things to do that she hopes will help her get back on her feet. In the midst of her journey to find healing she keeps running into Draco Malfoy, who is nothing like she remembered him. He invites her into his world, and Hermione finds exactly what she was looking for - in the place she least expected it. E, 10 Chapters, 70,526 Words

The Manuscript by alexandra_emerson: Five 1/2 years after the war, in the middle of a big fight with Draco, Hermione finds a manuscript. It’s a retelling of her and Draco’s love story, written by him. She never realized how much he was struggling before she read his words. Snippet: I could spend my whole life apologizing to you Hermione, and it would never be enough. Post-war, angst-filled Dramione with a happy ending. M, 21 Chapters, 154,918 Words

The Memory of You by PotionChemist: Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger fell in love against all odds, but there was one big problem — he was already married. Pressured, Hermione does something she promised herself she would never do again and erases their affair from his memory. Completely devastated, she avoids seeing Draco or the Malfoys at all costs. But is their love too strong? Are they inevitable? What will happen if he finds out about their previous relationship? E, WIP

The Mountain and The Sea by AlexisDanaan: Hermione Granger was perfectly happy with her life, her job as a Healer Trainee, her ugly cat and her cute little house in the countryside. And then Draco Malfoy had to go and mess that all up, typical git. Post-Hogwarts, EWE, OOC, creature!fic. E, 12 Chapters, 40,441 Words

The Nietzsche Classes by Beringae: The Ministry takes action against the remaining prejudice in the wizarding society and asks Hermione for help. “What do you want? Money? Power? Name your price, Granger. I’m not about to let pride get in my way when an Azkaban sentence is on the line.” M, 15 Chapters, 45,807 Words

The Phoenix Potion by FedonCiadale: Twenty years after the battle of Hogwarts.... Harry is head auror and is worried about cases where Muggleborn children meet with accidents, Ron is a famous Quidditch keeper. Both haven't talked to Hermione for ages and certainly not to her husband, Draco Malfoy. Narcissa Malfoy struggles with a curse, and Neville and Luna try to stay friends with all. The key to solving the problems may lie in the past, a time nobody really wants to revisit and some can't. T, 111 Chapters, 237,745 Words

The Potioneers by omnenomnom: They need each other unfortunately. Hermione has tricked Draco under her tutelage, arrogant attitude and all. But she would be simple to think he would accept it quietly. They have both have secrets to hide, old wounds better left to fester, and a world full of mermaids, dragons, and magic to explore. T, 53 Chapters, 196,559 Words

The Pretense by Colubrina: Voldemort died, but the Death Eaters live on. Hermione Granger traded herself to Draco Malfoy in exchange for safe passage for core Order members. Now he's pretending to love her, Narcissa is pretending to believe that, and Hermione is walking a tightrope behind enemy lines as she figures out what is going on. Unfortunately, people fall off tightropes. (no non-con) T, 50 Chapters, 108,164 Words

The Right Thing To Do by LovesBitca8: Hermione felt the pounding in her ears again. She would see him for the first time since the Great Hall, gaunt and stricken at the Slytherin table with his mother clutching his arm. She hadn't meant to look for him. Not in the corridors, not beneath the white sheets of the fallen, not on the way to the Chamber of Secrets with Ron, but she was a stupid girl. E, 36 Chapters, 174,911 Words

The Seven Year Witch by TheLastLynx: A boy and a girl have been meeting – coincidentally – for seven summers. While they pretty much hate one another most of the year, for those secret summer moments, they manage to see each other in a different light. But will that be enough to bring them together? A Dramione story about growing up and changing perspective, told along - and in-between - the lines of canon. M, WIP

Thirty Times Lucky by galfoy: "Granger, I can't hire you on any longer," Draco said. Hermione stared at him. Losing her job might actually mean losing the War, and she had to bargain, but there was literally nothing she had that he would want. Or was there? M, 2 Chapters, 7,128 Words

Traditions by raven_maiden: She straddled him slowly, still biting her lip, her hands on his shoulders. He held her hips tightly as he stared up at her. “So beautiful,” he whispered, and she flushed prettily, like she always did from his compliments. “You never need to hide from me.” ** Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy fell in love during the war. One year later, they're heading home for the holidays so he can finally meet her parents. There's just one teeny little problem: her parents think they're both Muggles. E, 14 Chapters, 68,767 Words

Waifs and Strays by Kyonomiko: War leaves a lot of orphans in its wake. Hermione is one, by her own hand, and she struggles with the realities of her situation. When she finds an orphaned familiar, it seems meant to be, giving and receiving comfort helping to heal her fractured heart. Unfortunately, the animal is actually a wizard, and he has his own issues. M, 31 Chapters, 118,152 Words

What You Think Is Right by icepower55: Six years after the war, Hermione parents are dying and her marriage to Draco is crumbling. Nothing seems logical in her life anymore. Her healer tells her to start writing about it, so she does, as a way to figure things out, and remind herself along the way. Hell is proximity without intimacy -Dante's Inferno M, WIP

When the Bell Tolls by everythursday: As a Dark revival begins to rise four years after the war, Hermione Granger is placed on the assignment of putting an end to them – and her first task is to recruit the Ministry's best hope and last option in the form of Draco Malfoy. E, 20 Chapters, 148,033 Words

Wreck by JMilz: Serving as Minister for Magic, Hermione Granger is finally at the peak of her career. With a beautiful family, a successful book, and the public on her side, her life should be a fairytale. Unfortunately, there is trouble in paradise, and when Draco Malfoy pays her a visit, she begins recalling their history and questioning her marriage. The reality is: every relationship is hard. M, 53 Chapters, 187,992 Words

Thanks to every person who contributed (I hope I've mentioned everyone. If not, let me know. 😊): @certified-arsehole @fedonciadale kiwim22 @really-sad-devil-guy endless-musings @headfullofnargles @pinksunsets-world @rosseliz01 @dramioneden @all-consuming @elricsister @injailoutsoon12 reclusivebird @mariakov81 @notthatchhavi @mordanbooqs @haaatch @hpsassenach @ybaeby @farmgirl-in @coyg-81 @eiramrelyat metterschling-plus-two @a-maidens-fantasy @sansacat @vofastudum @lexayeon @1800-rewrite @aneiria-writes @anonymouslydramione 

It took much longer to compile this list than I thought it would. Hopefully, I didn’t skip anything. 🙈

Happy New Year. May it be better than the previous one and full of great Dramione fics and fanarts! 🥳🥳🥳

And here’s the 2019 list: https://dramioneficrecommendations.tumblr.com/post/190216354767/what-is-the-best-dramione-fic-you-read-in-2019

[silkling]

I have the weird headcanon that TFRB Cody could adopt Lazerbeak brother, Buzzsaw. I haven't read a lot of TF comics so I don't know he's current status, still I always saw Cody as a typical animal owner, and I think it would be kind of cute too. Could you write some scenes of theme meeting and become friends

Come Home to Roost

Buzzsaw was tired. He was so, so tired. He missed Soundwave. He missed Laserbeak. Pit damn it, he also missed the those infernal twins and that Pit-spawned cat. They had been family for so long. Had been home. It had been them that he returned to every night to roost. It had been them that he had built his nest among. It had been them that he had come to call flock.

Now though…how could they be flock, when they had left him behind? Even his sister had left. He had thought Soundwave cared more than that. Apparently not, though. It had been a miracle that he’d made it off Centauri-12 after being abandoned. But he had, and he’d wandered the cosmos, stowing away on any ship he could find. He didn’t know what his goal was. To survive, he supposed. Find a new roost, though knowing how Primus had abandoned him thus far in his life, he doubted their “benevolent” Creator would have such kindness to direct towards him.

And perhaps he should not be surprised, really. He had been one of Soundwave’s most vicious Cassettes, after Ravage. But was that really something to be punished? He had had to be vicious. His sister had refused to be, and before Soundwave that meant he’d had to step up to keep her safe, to keep them both safe. Cybertron had not been kind to Cassettes, after all. Under Functionism, Cassettes had been viewed as little more than slaves, pets, property. He’d had to be vicious, then. It had been the only way they’d kept their lives, kept their freedom. After Soundwave, he’d had to continue to be vicious. Whereas Laserbeak had been the Host’s spy, Buzzsaw had been the attacker from above. Where Ravage had killed and torn from the ground, Buzzsaw had swooped in and brought death from the skies. After Soundwave, he’d been vicious because his new Host had needed him to be a protector still. And with Soundwave there had been Megatron, and he’d gone from protector to soldier.

Now though…now he wasn’t much of anything. Left behind on an uninhabited world that had drawn the War to it due to its energon mines, forgotten by the very one who had vowed to shelter and care for him, by his kin, by the family had come to call his own. He didn’t even feel them over the bond they’d shared anymore. They’d known he was alive when they’d left Centauri-12. He knew they had, the bond had told him as much. But they’d left anyway. And so he’d broken it. It had almost killed him. Cassettes were hard-coded for loyalty. It was part of their very core. To break the bond when he’d sworn his loyalty to Soundwave….it had made his spark burn with agony. But what other choice had he had? They’d left him behind, cast him aside, and left him with nothing.

He’d had to hitch a ride in the Autobot ship, which had left the planet later then his former allies. He’d been discovered when they’d landed again, and had had to flee. He’d continued like that, going from ship to ship, Neutral, Autobot, and even Decepticon, always fleeing when he was found. He’d even hidden away on the ships of organic species. It seemed his luck had finally run out, though. He’d been on the ship of a species called the Kaminoans, but after they’d found and attempted to capture him he’d been forced to flee into the vast expanse of space. It had almost killed him. He wasn’t space-faring. His armor couldn’t stand the pressure for long. Thankfully, his long-range sensors had detected a habitable planet in the nearest star system, and he’d fled as fast as his tired, starved frame could take him. The Kaminoans hadn’t given chase.

He remembered his first view of the planet. It was blue, with large green landmasses. Then he’d breached the atmosphere, and his systems hadn’t been able to handle the stress. He’d offlined, and come to surrounded by some sort of extremely salty liquid. He hadn’t been able to fly, and had had to go on foot, hoping to make his way to land. He didn’t want to rust on the floor of some massive salty pool of liquid. So he’d forced himself to move, and eventually he’d dragged himself onto some tiny, rocky shore. He’d only had the energy to cast out his sensors for one look around, enough to realize he had dragged himself onto some sort of island, and then his systems had dragged him into an emergency shutdown.

Blissfully, Buzzsaw knew no more.

——————————

When his systems pulled him from his forced recharge, Buzzsaw knew he was in trouble. His optics onlined with a dull glow, and his focused briefly on his HUD, taking in the messages flitting across it. After a moment, he chuffed and forced himself to stand. His self-repair had healed just enough damage to drag him from the edge of a stasis lock, but then the system had shut down in response to low energon. He was at 15% right now, which meant he had the rest of this orn to find fuel before his frame went into emergency stasis. After that..it would be too late for him.

The only way for a Cybertronian to be pulled out of emergency stasis was for another bot to fuel them enough that their systems kicked back online. Otherwise, the stasis would keep the bot in question under, only the bare essential systems running in order to keep the spark alight. Eventually, even those would give out, and the bot would die. Buzzsaw had heard claims that it was a peaceful way to go. That after entering stasis, you wouldn’t be aware of anything, which meant death was just like slipping under. You wouldn’t actually feel pain, wouldn’t feel your spark gutter.

Personally, Buzzsaw didn’t believe that. He thought dying like that was frightening. How could it not be? Feeling your systems fail and shut down, one by one, until you didn’t even have the strength to vent on your own. Your frame shutting down slowly, a klick at a time, until your awareness and consciousness was the last to go, but able to feel each and every one of your non-vital systems go offline. Your processor slipping under, your spark forced to still and shrink to conserve energy, your last thought either a prayer to be found or the grim knowledge you’d die where you lay.

No, Buzzsaw didn’t see the peace in a death like that. He looked around, taking in his surroundings, and then started walking. His wings were folded, and he made no attempt to fly. It would take too much of his energy. So he had to stay on the ground to conserve what precious little he had left. He only hoped he found an energon source. If he was extraordinarily lucky, this planet produced it. His best chances were at finding a underground mine. Liquid energon wells weren’t found anywhere but Cybertron. Other planets only produced the fuel in its crystalline form.

He hobbled along, and it wasn’t long before he was stumbling across a cave. He felt the faintest stirrings of hope as he hobbled in, sending out a faint ping of his sensors. Maybe he would find energon after all. Distracted as he was, he didn’t notice when the ground under him crumbled, and he fell into the deeper caverns below. He hit the ground hard, and his HUD threw up frantic damage warnings.

He dismissed them dispassionately, resignation settling in his spark. The fall had taken out his left leg, and his right wing was bent. He wouldn’t be able to move. This was it for him. He was going to slip into stasis lock and die here. As his systems started to shut down, he only had enough energy for one last action. Just before his consciousness was stolen away, he thought of the family he’d lost, and the life he would no longer be able to live.

Buzzsaw lifted his head and released a haunting cry, the caves all over the island echoing with his grief and regret. Then his optics went dark, and his helm fell to the dusty ground with a soft clang of metal on rock.

In the tunnels around him, his death knell echoed on.

——————————

Optimus shuttered his optics and tilted his head when the haunting cry floated from the tunnels leading out of the bunker. The Rescue Bots and their partners, who were also in the Lounge area, paused what they were doing and looked up. The Prime frowned, concerned. Young Cody was in the tunnels. Was he perhaps hurt?

“It must be a bird.” Graham said after a moment. “That’s what it sounds like, anyway. It might be lost in the tunnels and calling for its flock.”

That reassured Optimus. Now that he stopped to think, the cry HAD sounded more animal than human.

“Should we go help?” Boulder asked, clearly concerned.

“No.” Chief Burns said after a moment. “Let’s give it a bit. It might get out on it’s own. If it’s still crying like that in an hour, then we can help.”

“Got it, dad.” Graham agreed, and then he and his partner were returning to their previous task.

The other Bots and humans soon followed suit. Optimus was left staring at the tunnel entrance, lips twisted in a frown. Something was tugging at his processor. That call had definitely been animal in nature. But it had also sounded just faintly mechanical. His audials had barely even picked up on that aspect of the eerie wail, but he had heard it, he was certain of that.

The buzzing of the comm. system tore him from his thoughts. It was Cody.

“Uh, Dad? Guys?”

Chief Burns was answering in less than a minute. “We’re here, Cody. What is it? Do you need help?”

“No. Well, kind of. I don’t need help, but I found someone who might.”

Kade scoffed. “What, is a lost bird flying around in a panic? Just try and scare it back towards the entrance, it’ll be fine. We heard that call, I’m sure it was just calling for its friends.”

“Um, no.” Cody was blunt. “It’s not a bird. Not an Earth one, anyway.”

“Can you repeat that, son?”

“It’s not an Earth bird. I think it’s Cybertronian. And it looks like it’s hurt pretty bad.”

Optimus froze. A Cybertronian bird. That wasn’t possible. The only types of Cybertronian avians he knew of were Cassettes.

“Cody.” he cut in. “What color is it? Is it red and black?”

“No, Optimus. It’s black and…brown, I think? It’s really dirty. I can’t see what the other color is very clearly. It might not be brown.”

Not Laserbeak, then. But he didn’t know of any brown and black avian Cassette. Maybe one had escaped Cybertron on its own? It was extremely unlikely, but he supposed it wasn’t impossible. Cassettes were perfectly capable and intelligent.

“Oh, wait. I have a towel in my pack. I can see if I can clean some of the dirt.”

“Why do you have a towel in your bag?” Kade snarked. “You were just exploring the caves.”

“Sure, but I wanted to go to the beach right after. Hang on, I almost got it…” there was a pause. “There. It’s black and yellow. It’s still hard to tell because the grime is really caked in and the paint is old and fading, but I think the other color is yellow.”

Optimus froze. Black and yellow. But how? Buzzsaw had been lost on Centauri-12. Except…that wasn’t quite right either. He vaguely remembered a report that Jazz had found the Cassette stowing away on the Ark after the Autobots had left that planet, but that he’d been chased off before he could be captured when they’d been near a space docks. Had the little avian really survived on his own so long? It seemed almost ludicrous to even think it, yet he knew there was only one black and yellow Cybertronian bird who had left Cybertron.

“Hold on, Cody. I believe I may know who that is. Tell me, is he awake?”

“It’s a him? And no. I’m almost not sure if he’s even still…” Cody trailed off, but Optimus understood.

“I see. Stay where you are. I am coming now. And be wary. If I am correct, then that is Buzzsaw. He is a formidable foe, and if he wakes you must stay away from him.”

“Alright. I’ll be here.” the boy agreed, the the comm. cut off with a click.

“Wait, foe? Is this one of those Decepticons you mentioned, Optimus?” Chief Burns asked.

“He is indeed.” The Prime informed him.

“Then why should we help?” Kade asked. “If he’s one of the bad guys, shouldn’t we leave him there?”

“No.” Heatwave stood, crossing his arms. Glancing around, Optimus could see the same resolve the fire truck was showing in the rest of the Rescue Bots. “‘Con or not, we aren’t leaving him. We’re Rescue Bots, we save anyone who needs it, regardless of who they are. If you won’t help, we’ll do it on our own.”

“You are correct, Heatwave. It would be wrong to leave Buzzsaw to perish.” Optimus agreed. He looked down at the humans. “If he is truly as injured as Cody says, then he will be of little threat. So long as you are wary, he will likely be unable to cause you harm.”

“Are you certain, Optimus?” Chase asked.

“Yes. Buzzsaw is a Cassette. He is far smaller than any of you. He is also very young. I believe that he is the equivalent of a human teenager, if my memory is not mistaken.” The Prime soothed.

That was clearly the key to convince the Chief. “Go.” the human said. “If we can help, we will. It wouldn’t be right to leave him there.”

Optimus nodded, and then folded down into his alt-mode and drove. He had not told the humans, but he was certain that the call they had heard earlier had in fact been Buzzsaw himself. He had not wanted to mention it, to avoid distressing the others too much. But he was certain of it now.

That haunting cry hadn’t been a call for help, it had been a death song.

——————————

Optimus pulled up alongside Cody, shifting to root mood as his optics found the still form lying limp on the ground. Primus, it really was Buzzsaw. He crouched down, one large hand slipping under the too-light form of the downed Cassette. This wasn’t right. Cassettes were smaller and not as heavily armored as a normal mech, but the avian shouldn’t be this light. Looking at him now, the Prime was starting to realize that Buzzsaw had likely been on his own and in a state of gradual starvation ever since Centauri-12.

“Optimus? Is he going to be okay?” It was Cody, and the boy was frowning up at him.

He hesitated, then folded into his alt-mode, carefully ensuring that Buzzsaw ended up in his cab. He opened his door, letting the human climb in, and then he was driving back to the bunker. He was silent for a lone moment before he finally spoke.

“I will not lie, Cody Burns. Buzzsaw’s status is…not promising.” he said after a moment.

There was silence as he drove, and then-

“You said he was a foe. Does that mean he’s a Decepticon?”

“Yes.” He answered simply.

There was more silence.

“Optimus?”

“Yes?”

“Why did the Decepticons start the War?”

Optimus was silent for a long moment. The boy truly was perceptive. But how could he answer that?

“Cybertron…was not kind to all its children.” he said after a long moment. “There were many policies in place that kept those of high status in power, and left those of lower social classes struggling.” There. That should be a simple enough explanation.

“And the Decepticons were those lower class bots?”

“Many of them, yes.” Optimus paused. “You must understand, Cody. Cybertron was not the utopia some of my Autobots may believe it was. There were many who suffered greatly. However, while the Decepticons may have risen from a just cause, that does not justify the depths they have since fallen to.”

Cody hummed. “I get it.” he said softly.

Optimus relaxed. Good. He didn’t want to lie to Cody, but he didn’t want to boy to think that the Decepticons were harmless. He feared that if that were the case, the young human may do something foolish in the future. No, it was better he understood the War for what it was.

“Optimus?”

“Yes?”

“What’s going to happen to Buzzsaw?”

Ah. “I…do not know. If he is able to recover, I cannot allow him to go free. It would cause immense trouble for my team and my Autobots if he were to rejoin his Master.” he sighed.

“Master?”

“Buzzsaw is a Cassette. They do not often live their lives independently.”

“Why?”

“…perhaps that is a detail best explained with all the others.”

“Okay.” Cody tilted his head. “So you can’t let him go. Can you take him with you?”

Optimus winced. “That would not be wise. I am afraid my team would not understand. I am all too willing to give Buzzsaw a chance, but if I were to bring him to my base I fear the others would argue in favor of his…deactivation.”

“Deactivation.” A pause. “You mean they’d want to kill him.” he whispered.

“The Decepticons have caused my mechs a great deal of pain, Cody.” Optimus said softly. “They would not do it to be cruel, but I know there would be more than one among them who would believe such action justified. An eye for an eye, as the earth saying goes.”

“It doesn’t make it right.”

“No.” Optimus agreed. “But it is War, and those who suffer the effects of it long enough do not enough grasp right from wrong any longer, only what hurts have been inflicted and how best to return them.”

“It’s a cycle.” Cody said sadly.

“A cruel, bitter one.”

Optimus could see the light of the bunker up ahead. He drove towards it in silence, spark heavy.

“Optimus?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think…Buzzsaw could stay here? On Griffin Rock, I mean. Maybe I could help him. The team too. He looks like he’s been on his own a long time. At least, I think he has been. If he has a “Master” like you said, I don’t think they’d let him get this bad off.” There was a pause. “Maybe he’s tired enough to not want to go back to the War? It’s worth a try, right? I want to help him.”

And Optimus, for the first time since he realized who the downed Cybertronian was, felt the faintest stirrings of hope.

——————————

Buzzsaw was resting. Blades had prepared a large crate on which to treat the injured Cassette, and as soon as Optimus had released the avian the small copter bot was scanning him and bustling around to repair him. He’d gotten an energon line started already, and currently his digits were transformed into the medical tools he needed to repair the damage to the Cassette’s internals and armor. As Blades worked, Optimus shared everything he had told Cody in the tunnel with the others.

“So he can’t go with you because your team might kill him, and you can’t let him go because he’d go back to his Master and cause trouble for your team.” Heatwave sighed. “I suppose that means his Host is here on Earth?”

“Soundwave is here, yes.” Optimus hummed. “He is Megatron’s Third in Command and Chief Communications Officer.”

“Ah, yes. I can see how that would cause issues if such a mech were to regain access to his Cassette.” Chase said.

“Cassette.” Cody said slowly. “You called him that in the tunnel too. It’s important. Why?”

Optimus hummed. “First, you must understand that Cybertronians are divided by our frame-types. There are flight frames, and among them you have Helios, Jets, Shuttles, and Seekers. Among the ground frames, there are cars, two-wheelers, trucks, and even more. There are even aquatic frames, though they are few and far between. Beyond them, you have triple-changers, bots who naturally have two alt-forms rather than one. There are also those with non-vehicular alt-modes. And finally, you also have mini-bots, and alongside them there are Cassettes.”

The humans were staring, focused intently on the overly simplified lesson. The Rescue Bots didn’t pay it much mind, however.

“Among all those frame-types, barring Cassettes, it was not uncommon on for some bots to have additional abilities on top of the normal abilities granted to them by their frames. Host mech are one such example. They can be any frame-type, but they are set apart because of their ability to bind their sparks to those of Cassettes in order to form a symbiotic bond.”

Cody blinked. “What do they each get out of the bond?”

“The Cassettes gain protection. Cassettes were…not a well-regarded class. They were found on the streets or in the wilds, and often forced to struggle for their very survival. Most Cybertronians viewed them as simple-minded or feral. They were not thought of as having much intelligence, or even sentience.” Optimus forced himself to continue at the disturbed looks the humans wore. “So for Cassettes, a bond with a Host was a chance at safety. They relinquished their freedom to their Host, and in return they would be given fuel, shelter, care, and above all else, safety. In return, the Hosts received the obedience of their Cassettes, and the Cassettes would help them with any task, function, or job they required.”

Cody was sitting next to Buzzsaw, and the Prime saw him extend a hand to lay it on the avian’s head. “That…that doesn’t sound very fair, Optimus.”

“Perhaps.” he agreed. “But most Hosts treated their Cassettes well and were very fond of them. Such a bond was necessary for many. Cassettes get their name because they do not have an alt-mode capable of movement. Their alt-mode is always a cassette tape or something else very similar. When the bond is formed, a Cassette gains the ability to dock within the armor of their Host while they are in their alt-mode. It is an added degree of safety.”

Chief Burns hummed. “I think I get it. The important bits, anyway. The cultural stuff…” He trailed off. “That I have a harder time wrapping my head around, but I get why our guest being a Cassette matters.”

“Oh?” Optimus had little doubt he did. The Chief was an intelligent man.

“He’s going to want to return to his Host. Because Soundwave is synonymous with safety for him, right?”

“That is likely.” Optimus agreed.

“But you said Hosts usually care a lot about their Cassettes. If that’s true, how did Buzzsaw get like this?” Cody cut in.

The Prime tilted his head. “The last reports of Buzzsaw’s location are many years old. He was last seen on an uninhabited planet that briefly became a battlefield for the War. The Decepticons fled, and the last reports on Buzzsaw are from after Megatron took his army off Centauri-12. It is likely the damage he sustained is a result of him being on his own.”

“So he might have been abandoned?”

“That…seems the most likely scenario, yes. Though Soundwave’s fondness for his Cassettes has always been well known, so I am at a loss as to why he would be left behind thus.”

“Does it matter why?” Cody asked.

“What are you thinking, little brother?” Dani sounded amused.

“If Soundwave abandoned Buzzsaw when he was supposed to be caring for him, then would Buzzsaw really want to go back?”

Optimus reset his optics, startled. “I…had not considered that.” he said after a moment. “I do not know. That is something you will have to ask him yourself.”

Cody perked up. “So you think he would benefit from staying, then?”

Optimus turned to Chief Burns. “If your father agrees, then yes, I do believe so. I have seen the effect you have on bots, young Cody. I believe you can soften even the hardest of sparks. If you are willing to put forth the effort, then there is a chance that you maybe able to help Buzzsaw.”

Chief Burns crossed his arms. “Will he be dangerous in any way?”

Optimus turned to the copter bot still treating the avian. “Blades. Can you disable his weapons systems and battle protocols?”

“Already did.” The young bot sounded distracted. “I disconnected his turbines and anti-gravs too, so he won’t be able to fly. Though I don’t recommend keeping that second part a thing for long. He’s a avian, he needs flight as much as any other flyer.”

Optimus nodded, then turned back to the oldest human. “With those measures in place, I believe that he will be a minimal threat. If he turns out to be a greater risk than you are willing to take, you can always call me.”

Chief Burns considered it, then nodded. “Alright. He can stay. It’s only right to give him the chance.”

Kade frowned. “Is that really so smart? Optimus said it himself! He’s one of the bad guys!”

“But how much choice did he have, if he fought the War his Host joined?” Graham asked.

“Does it matter? The ‘Cons still hurt people!”

“Our War is not so black and white, Kade Burns.” Optimus warned.

“So some political policies and social perceptions sucked! That’s bad, but is it really a reason to start a war?” Kade demanded.

“The Senate used ritual disfigurement as a punishment.” Blades’s voice carried over, sounding distracted.

All heads snapped to him. Kade gaped, and the other humans looked horrified. Privately, Optimus winced. Perhaps that wasn’t the nicest detail to share, but it was too late now.

“What?” Kade sputtered.

“The Senate were the political rulers of Cybertron. They controlled pretty much everything.” Blades mumbled, still focused mostly on Buzzsaw. “When a bot went against them, even in a minor way, they’d use punishment called empurata that involved surgically removing the bot’s face and hands and replacing them with one large optic and a pair of claws.”

Kade swallowed. “Okay. So it was really, really bad. I guess I was wrong.” he said, sounding too sick to care that he’d just admitted to being wrong.

The other humans also looked horrified. Cody looked like his entire worldview had been shaken.

“Cybertron was not kind to all its children, before the War.” Optimus said quietly. “The Decepticons were more than justified in rising up to fight for their freedom. But they took things too far, and now their original cause has long been lost.”

Chief Burns was the first to recover. “That’s often the case, with wars.”

Optimus nodded solemnly.

“We’ll take care of Buzzsaw.” Cody’s voice carried over. Despite how horrified he’d seemed earlier, now he just looked determined. “We’ll show him there’s good in the world. Maybe he doesn’t want to fight anymore. I want to help him.”

The Prime smiled, them dipped his helm. “And so you shall.” he agreed. “When he wakes, tell him that I am leaving him here. I recommend you tell him that Soundwave is on this planet. If you withhold the information, and manage to befriend him, then he may feel betrayed if he learns you hid the fact from him and return to Soundwave on his own.” he warned.

Cody nodded. “I’ll tell him.”

Optimus hummed. “We cannot set him free at this moment. But if you feel it is right, you may also tell him that his other option is that he will remain a prisoner in the Autobot base, but that in that scenario I will have difficulty guaranteeing his safety.” he warned.

Cody tilted his chin up, clearly displeased. “That won’t happen.”

The large bot chuckled. “I hope you are right, Cody Burns.” he nodded at the other humans, flaring his field in a good-bye to the Rescue Bots, and then he was folding into his alt-mode and driving out through the tunnels. He’d get the mainland and call for a ground bridge from there.

He truly hoped Buzzsaw could find happiness. Primus knew the Cassette had earned it.

——————————

Awareness came to him slowly. At first, Buzzsaw was confused. He was fairly certain he’d slipped into emergency stasis. He hadn’t onlined his optics yet, but the messages blinking across his HUD didn’t help his confusion.

Fuel Level: 37%

Warning: Low energon

Movement not recommended

Energy Level: 12%

Warning: Energy rerouted to essential systems

Cause of Energy Drain: Starvation and damage

Recovery time necessary

Internal Communication System: Disabled

Sensor Array: Offline

External Spacial Sensors: Online

Transformation Cog: Offline

Weapons Systems: Disabled

Battle Protocols: Disabled

Self-Repair: Online

Fuel System: Online

Wing Turbines: Disabled

Anti-Gravs: Disabled

Warning: Unknown medical access to internal systems detected

Warning: Unauthorized medical access to combat systems and flight capabilities detected

Self Diagnostic Report: Severe damage and starvation

Low Fuel: Addressed

Armor Integrity: 49%

Fuel Pump: Functional

Fuel Tanks: Shrunken, functional

Intake: Minor rust detected, addressed

Fuel Lines: Damaged, patched

Wires: Damaged, patched

Conclusion: Frame in need of full recovery

Rest recommended

Strenuous activity not recommended

Warning: Presence of unknown Cybertronian and unknown organic life forms detected in proximity.

Well. That last warning certainly warranted some degree of alarm. Red optics snapped online and the avian lifted his helm. His gaze immediately found the aforementioned Cybertronian. It was a small orange and white copter bot, and immediately clear was the Autobot insignia on his chest. For a moment, Buzzsaw tense, his vocalizer releasing a sound halfway between a screech and a growl. He made to stand, to fight off the perceived threat, when the bot pressed him down with a hand between his wings.

“Easy, easy. You’re okay.” He soothed. “My name is Blades, of Rescue Team Sigma-17. You’re on a planet called Earth. My team and I just want to help you.”

His words made Buzzsaw pause and take another look. Huh. That was right. The badge on his chest wasn’t the Autobrand after all. But how? He was fairly certain that Megatron had destroyed the Rescue Force and killed all its Teams. How had this lone team survived? He cocked his head sharply, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“You’re Buzzsaw, right? Optimus Prime was here earlier. He told us about you.”

Well. There went his hopes of his Decepticon status going unknown. And the Prime was here, on this planet? That meant Megatron was doubtless here as well. But who else was?

Blades shifted under his gaze, then sighed. “Just stay still, okay? I patched up what I could. Now your self-repair needs to handle the rest. You need to rest if you want to recover.” He made to leave, then paused. “Also, Optimus told us to tell you your options. You’re on an island called Griffin Rock. You can stay here and stay out of the War, or he can return and keep you prisoner in his base. He said if you go with the second option he’d have a difficult time guaranteeing your safety.” Buzzsaw could see that the small mech was clearly uncomfortable with that last series of statements. He didn’t seem fond of the idea of violence or what amounted to keeping someone against their will.

After another beat, the bot nodded at someone else in the room. Buzzsaw snapped his helm in that direction and saw a small organic. He heard Blades leave, and then the organic was looking up at him. The small creature beamed, and them he was climbing up onto the crate that the avian found himself confined to.

“Hi! I’m the one who found you. My name is Cody.”

Buzzsaw stared, optics narrowed.

“I’m sorry about your choices here, I know they aren’t the best. Optimus doesn’t want you going back to Soundwave though.”

That made him freeze and perk up. Soundwave was on this planet too? A part of him was excited and wanted to seek out his Host. He remembered the kindness, the affection, the gentle treatment. He remembered the safety and security that had come from being bound to the spymaster.

He also remembered the abandonment. Remembered the years of fear and pain and hunger that had followed. Remembered the loss and betrayal, the desperation that his Host would return only to be forced to come to terms with the fact he’d been cast aside.

Buzzsaw clacked his beak, then looked away and forced down the sad coo that wanted to escape him. He felt something on his armor, and looked over to see the organic–Cody–pressing a small, soft hand to the plating of his neck.

“He left you, didn’t he? Optimus told us a little bit about Hosts and Cassettes, and about Centauri-12. You got like this because your Host left you.”

Buzzsaw stared, not knowing how to respond. A part of him, the part that was vicious and angry, wanted to rip off the organic’s limb. The larger part of him was just tired, though. After a long moment of staring, the avian sagged, optics dimming. What was the harm in telling this organic anyway? It wasn’t like he was really a Decepticon anymore. Not really. It also wasn’t like Cody would be able to cause him much harm, anyway.

He nodded, his beak clacking and his wings rustling as he let out a gust of air from his vents. That hand hadn’t left his neck, and it moved to stroke up and down the plating.

“I’m sorry.” Cody said softly. “No one deserves to be abandoned by their family.”

Buzzsaw stared for a moment. The organic had said they’d only been told a little bit about Hosts and Cassettes, yet it seemed he already understood the bond was fairly deep. Either he’d been told more than he let on, or he was just very perceptive. Either way, a part of Buzzsaw couldn’t help but be grateful for the understanding.

He knew he should be lashing out and trying to fight. But what was the point? His weapons systems and battle protocols were disabled, he couldn’t fly, he couldn’t walk, and his fuel levels were too low for him to have the energy to do anything significant. Even without all that, he was just tired of fighting. True, he’d always enjoyed a good, honest fight, but he’d only ever used his more excessive forms of violence because that was what had been demanded of him. He’d had to be violent to survive the wilds before Soundwave, and after he’d had to be violent to fight for his new Host. But he hadn’t wanted life as a fighter, as a soldier. And now, confronted with everything he’d learned, and the last few years of his abandonment…he was tired. He didn’t want to fight this organic. He just wanted rest. He could figure out everything else later.

Besides, the gentle contact didn’t feel so bad. It wasn’t heavy enough to hurt, and it was more reminiscent of the preening he’d used to do with his sister. His optics dimmed, and he let his head come to lay on the crate. Cody didn’t seem offended at his lack of responsiveness. Instead, he felt that small hand move up to stroke over the top of his helm.

“Get some rest, Buzzsaw. I’ll be here when you wake up. I want to help you get better.” the small organic murmured.

Buzzsaw didn’t know what to do with that sentiment. A part of him scoffed at the weakness of it. The other part was too tired and beaten down to care. He released another heavy vent of air, and let his optics slip offline. Moments later, he was slipping into recharge, even the brief moment of consciousness having drained what little energy he had.

——————————

Cody was indeed there when he woke up. It was only for a few moments though, because then the organic had to go to school. Apparently, this planet also has educational institutions. Buzzsaw didn’t have much of an opinion on that. While he was gone, the rest of the Rescue Bots introduced themselves, as did their own organic partners, and he was informed that the organics were called “humans”. Again, Buzzsaw didn’t particularly care. It was useful information, he supposed.

The others left him to himself throughout the day, except for the brief moment when Blades came to remove the energon line feeding fuel into his frame and replace it with a small cube of energon that was set in front of him. After that, he was left alone. Perhaps they sensed his mood, perhaps they were busy, perhaps they didn’t want to talk to him. He didn’t particularly care. It did give him time to think on his situation, though. Obviously, they wouldn’t let him go free. Even if he did promise to not return to Soundwave, he knew he would have difficulty hiding here. Since, apparently, it was very important that the human race didn’t learn about the Cybertronian presence on their planet. One would think they’d have figured it out when the alien war came to earth, but he wouldn’t question it. Still, it meant he couldn’t just be let loose on his own.

He also refused to be an Autobot prisoner. As for returning to his Host…he was torn. A part of him wanted to. But the larger part of him was still hurt. And after his distance from the Decepticons…he wasn’t sure he wanted to return to the faction itself. Pits, he didn’t even have his brand anymore. He’d come across a Neutral medic sometime after Centauri-12, and he’d offered up his services to locate energon in return for the medic’s services to remove the brand. It had been a thin sheet of metal painted purple and welded to his chest, so it had required the aid of a medic to remove without damaging his armor. But it had been done, and then they’d gone their separate ways. He hadn’t worn the Decepticon badge in years.

So where did that leave him? He couldn’t escape in his state, but even when he recovered, what then? What was there for him on this little island? What was there for him on this planet itself? Would it be worth staying?

He must have drifted into recharge at some point, because he was startled awake by Cody’s loud greeting to the others. He jerked, optics flashing on as he lifted his helm. The human blinked when he came around the corner, then smiled.

“Buzzsaw! You’re up!” he called out. He walked over, pulling himself up onto the crate beside the avian. “So, I had an idea! Blades told me you don’t have to be hooked up to anything anymore, and I noticed how your armor seems pretty dirty, so I was wondering if you’d like to get clean?”

Buzzsaw blinked at him. The human gestured to the corner, and he looked over to see a large tub and a bucket that hadn’t been there before. There were rags in the bucket.

“Boulder offered to help. I figured you might feel better if you can get the grime off?” He offered.

He stared for a moment, and then he dipped his head in a nod.

Cody grinned. “Great! I’ll get Boulder. I have to change clothes really quick.”

Buzzsaw cocked his head sharply at that. Clothes?

Cody interpreted the curious gesture for what it was. “Clothes are what humans wear!” he plucked at the colorful things clinging to his frame. “We don’t have metal armor like you guys, and we don’t need it, but we wear clothes to cover ourselves because it’s not considered decent to go without them.” He tapped his chin. “Chase once told me it would be like if a Cybertronian went around without any armor at all.”

Buzzsaw jerked his head back, optics shuttering. Ah. That, he understood. So human had their own version of a protoform underneath their clothing. He did not want to see a fully bare fleshy protoform, thank you very much. He lowered his helm, bumping his beak into Cody’s back to encourage him to go. The boy laughed, then jumped off the crate and trotted away.

A moment later, Boulder came around and smiled at him. “Hey, Buzzsaw. Cody said you accepted our offer to help you clean?” He nodded at the tub. “Is it okay if I carry you there? You shouldn’t be putting weight on your leg.”

Buzzsaw grumbled, but after a moment he nodded. He didn’t exactly want to be carried like a helpless sparkling, but he couldn’t get there on his own. Not in his state. Boulder paid no mind to his grumbles, and instead stepped forward to slip a large hand underneath his frame. The avian was lifted up, then carefully cradled in gentle hands. He was brought to the tub, then lowered into the liquid that filled it. He cooed in pleasure upon realizing it was warm, frame relaxing every so slightly.

Cody chose that moment to return, his lower half covered in something very colorful and the rest of his form bare. He climbed into the tub with Buzzsaw, then dragged the bucket in after himself. On the outside of the tub, Boulder grabbed a larger rag and dipped it into the liquid in the tub.

“Is the water okay? Not too hot?” Cody asked.

Oh, right. This was water. He recognized it now. Other planets had it too. He nodded, watching the Rescue Bot soak the rag in the warm water and hold it out towards him.

“Boulder is going to take care of your armor, and I thought I’d use my smaller size to get in between everything and get all the dust and muck out from your armor seams?” Cody suggested.

Buzzsaw stared for a long moment. That was…rather intimate. But he also hadn’t been able to have such an in depth cleaning since before Centauri-12. He could feel the dirt and grim in between and underneath his armor plates. Even if he didn’t trust these people, he did trust they wouldn’t hurt him. They’d have done so already if they were going to hurt him at all. He could bear some rather intimate grooming if it meant getting clean. He nodded.

Cody beamed, and then Buzzsaw felt the gentle pressure of Boulder wiping off the surface of his armor. While the bot worked at that, Cody chose a rag from the bucket that Buzzsaw now saw was full of cleaning cloths and brushes. The human soaked it in the water, then lifted it and started wiping it along the edges of his armor plates. The avian let himself relax into the warmth of the water, optics slipping offline. He didn’t know what to make of his situation, and he wasn’t sure he liked being forced to stay, but for now he’d enjoy the moment of comfort.

He didn’t realize when he slipped into a state of half-recharge. He was barely aware as the bath finished, and then Boulder transferred him to a large towel which was used to dry him off. Cody went to get blankets while Boulder did so, using the soft fabrics to make a comfier “nest” on the crate that Buzzsaw was returned to a moment later. The avian cooed as he was set into the soft nest, optics offlining fully as he rested his head in the fabrics.

Clean, warm, and comfortable for the first time in years, it didn’t take him long to slip into the most peaceful rest he’d had since he’d lost his flock.

——————————

A few days passed in much the same pattern. Cody would go to school, Buzzsaw would be left alone, and then the boy would return and spend the rest of the day talking with him. The avian never responded, content to listen and learn all he could about this world and the species that dominated it. Things fell into a routine, and he came to be comfortable in it. He even stopped minding the way Cody would touch him and stroke his plating as he talked.

And then the routine changed. Cody came to him after school one day and told him he wanted to have a “movie night”. Apparently, he believed that showing Buzzsaw human entertainment would be a good way for the Cassette to learn about human culture. The avian made no protest. Cody talked to him for the afternoon, then went to have his nightly meal with his family. After that though, he returned for the “movie night”, enlisting the aid of Boulder to move Buzzsaw’s crate in front of a large vid screen.

Cody then joined him on top of the crate, settling into the nest of blankets and wrapping himself in one of his own. He was dressed in clothing that he informed Buzzsaw was called “pajamas”. Then, the movie started and the avian let himself be distracted story unfolding on the screen.

The movie was about two humans under a curse, one who turned into a creature called a wolf by the day and the other who turned into a hawk by night. It was a fairly simple story, and while Buzzsaw certainly found some of the attitudes of the characters to be irritatingly soft he could understand the appeal. He might even say he enjoyed the movie. It was fun. Maybe human entertainment wasn’t as bad as he thought.

And then Cody put on a movie that he said was “animated”, and Buzzsaw was very quickly insulted. The movie was about living cars, except they had no other form to transform into. The main character was a cocky, irritating fool, the tow-truck was the most annoying creature he’d ever been forced to watch, and the mentor was a smug, pompous aft. Buzzsaw hated every character in the movie. If that wasn’t enough, even the setting was insulting.

“What the frag.” he hissed. “How is this garbage supposed to be entertaining? There’s no way those insufferable creatures would have successfully built a civilization. They lack any appendages that would allow them to hold, build, or invent anything. Temporary gripping attachments don’t count, those lack dexterity. Primus, those things would have all died out within the first few generations of their species existence. They certainly should have.”

The movie was paused, and Buzzsaw turned his help to Cody to find the reason. He saw the human grinning brightly, looking thrilled. His plating bristled, and he narrowed his optics.

“What.” he snapped.

“You finally talked.” Cody was beaming.

Buzzsaw shuttered his optics, tilting his helm. Ah. So he had. “Did you think I couldn’t?” he demanded.

“No.” Cody shook his head, smiling. “I knew you could. I didn’t want to push to make you talk to me before you were ready though.”

The avian paused, staring uncomprehendingly. That meant that Cody hadn’t actually thought of him as a simple minded beast. He’d known Buzzsaw was more than that. And he hadn’t tried to force his will on him to make him speak before he wanted to. He had been content to wait. Seemingly as long as he needed to, if Buzzsaw understood the subtext of this conversation correctly.

“Why?” he asked wearily.

“You deserve to be treated with respect.” Cody said seriously. “Just because you look like a bird and don’t have a vehicle mode doesn’t mean you aren’t deserving of being treated like an individual with your own thoughts and feelings. It would have been wrong to push my own wants on you. I want to help you get better. That means going at your pace.”

Buzzsaw twitched. “Many Cybertronians would not agree with you. They would argue I am little more than a beast and thus deserve to be treated as one.” he paused. “My pace?”

“Then it’s a good thing we aren’t on Cybertron, isn’t it?” Cody pointed out. “And yeah. Your pace. I want to help you recover from the things you’ve experienced and discover your own path, discover the things you want to do and the life you want to live. But I know that sort of recovery won’t be immediate, and it may not even be as fast as I want it to be. But that doesn’t matter, because it’s your recovery, not mine. So we go at your pace.”

Buzzsaw stared at the organic for a long moment. “…I don’t understand you.” he said.

Cody smiled. “That’s alright. As long as you understand I want to help.”

He stared for a beat longer, then grumbled and turned back to the movie. He needed to process this. Cody seemed to understand he was done talking, because the infernal movie started up again. Buzzsaw wasn’t paying attention, though. Instead, he was lost in thought, turning over the things he’d learned.

He didn’t notice as the movie ended, and another one started. He did feel it, however, when halfway through the next move is a slight weight settled against his side. He looked down to see Cody had fallen into his own recharge and had slumped against Buzzsaw’s side in the process. The avian didn’t move to wake him. He stared at the slumbering human for a long beat, then heaved a sigh and lowered his helm to rest it on the lip of his makeshift nest. He refocused his optics on the bid screen, paying half attention to the new movie playing. It was something about singing cats. Buzzsaw wouldn’t pretend to understand.

He relaxed, Cody’s warmth curled against his side, and his optics dimming slowly as recharge crept up on him. By the time the movie ended, it had claimed him completely, and he and his odd little companion both slept on peacefully as the credits rolled.

Neither of them woke as Chief Burns came down to retrieve Cody. He paused when he saw the scene, and he turned off the TV, dimmed the lights, and left the sleeping pair to their rest.

As Buzzsaw slept on, his hardened spark cracked just a little. Maybe there was hope for him after all.

—��————————

Buzzsaw was watching Cody. He did that a lot as of late. The little human still talked to him a lot, though the avian didn’t always talk back. Most of the time he was content to listen. In the past few days, he’d learned a lot about the odd little organic. In that time, his legs had also fully healed, and his nest had been moved to the floor and tucked into a corner of the bunker so he could maneuver on his own. His wing was still injured, but even if it wasn’t his turbines and anti-gravs were still disabled.

Right now, Cody was quiet. The boy was sitting on a box a bit away from his nest, working one something he’d called “homework”. Judging by the frustrated expression he wore, he was having some degree of difficulty. His curiosity piqued, Buzzsaw stood and stepped out of his nest, walking over to see what the human was working on. He sidled up behind him, tilting his helm to peer over his shoulder.

Oh. It was math. Buzzsaw could work with this.

“You’re missing a two.” he grunted.

Cody paused. “What?” he asked, turning to look at the again standing over him.

“You’re missing a two.” he repeated. “In the third problem. You’re missing a two. That’s why the first part of your answer isn’t matching up with the second.”

Cody blinked, then turned back and looked over his work. He made a noise of triumph, perking up and correcting his work. Then he returned his attention to the Cassette.

“Thanks, Buzzsaw!”

He only grunted, helm cocking sharply.

Cody smiled, used to his non-verbal communication by now.

“So you know some math?” he asked.

“Sure.” he Buzzsaw grunted, folding his legs and settling down. “Laserbeak and I never received a formal education; Cassettes weren’t allowed to. But Soundwave taught us some things after he bound us to him. He wanted us to have a greater knowledge of a variety of fields.”

“Laserbeak? Is that another Cassette?”

“Yes.” Buzzsaw paused, his optics dimming. “My sister. My twin, actually.”

Cody sat up, eyes wide. “You guys can have siblings?”

“Yes. It’s a rare occurrence, but it happens. Though Soundwave did have another set of Cassette twins besides us, too.”

The human stared, then seemed to realize something. “She’s…gone, isn’t she?”

“No.” he huffed. “If she was, I would have felt her loss in my spark. But she left me when Soundwave did. I cannot entirely blame her. If he told her to leave, she would have had to obey. Still, it does sting.” Buzzsaw admitted, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.

“I’m sorry.”

And Buzzsaw didn’t understand, but the human did seem genuinely upset on his behalf. He sighed, shaking his helm to get rid of the memories.

“It’s whatever.” he grunted. “It happened. I can’t change it. Gotta live with it.”

“You miss her.”

Buzzsaw froze, his optics snapping on to the human. He stared, then couldn’t stop himself from slumping. “I so. I miss all of them. Primus help me, but I really do miss them.” he hissed, hating himself for it.

Cody put a hand on his chest. “I’m sorry they left you. You didn’t deserve it.”

He went still, then jerked his gaze away and focused on the paper. “Yeah. I suppose. But you have work to finish, don’t you? I can help.”

He seemed to understand that the avian was done with that topic of conversation, because the human dropped his hand and nodded, returning his own attention to the paper. “Sure. Thanks!”

Buzzsaw scoffed. “Don’t thank me yet. Now, let me see those problems. Tell me how you think you need to solve them, I’ll say something if your approach needs an adjustment.”

——————————

Buzzsaw was alone when he woke up. That struck him as odd, especially since his chronometer cheerfully blinked up on his HUD to inform him that it was only midday. He’d checked twice. He dismissed the notice with a grumble, hopping out of his nest and wandering around the bunker. His wings were folded away, the damaged one finally having fully healed the day before. It was a relief to be able to relax it fully now.

He looked around, sending out a ping of his sensors, and picked up the signals of the Rescue Bots above him. He walked over to the large pad they used as an elevator, tapping the console with his beak and letting the platform lift him up. As soon as it stopped, he was walking out of the open doors of the building he’d been informed was called a “firehouse”. He picked up on some unidentifiable noises, following them to what ended up being a court for some sort of ball game. The Burns family and the Rescue Bots were all playing. After a moment of observation, Buzzsaw realized the objective of the game was to get the small ball into the small hoop that the opposite team was guarding. It reminded him just a little bit of Cube.

He made his way over to where a bench was sitting to the side of the court, hopping up onto it. It was just low enough he could manage that much without his wings. Then he turned his attention back to the game, watching curiously as the ball was tossed around. After a few minutes, a stray toss sent it in his direction. Buzzsaw tilted his helm up, catching the ball on the tip of his beak and bouncing it once, then he tipped his head, letting it roll to the top of his beak before he tossed his head to send the ball back towards the others.

Blades caught it, smiling when he saw the avian. “Good morning, Buzzsaw.” He greeted.

The Cassette nodded, turning his attention to Cody as the boy padded up to him.

“You’re awake!” he smiled. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I didn’t expect you to wake up so soon from your nap.”

“It’s fine.” Buzzsaw dismissed. “What are you playing?”

“Burns Ball! It’s version of a popular earth game we adapted for our own rules!” Cody said brightly. “Do you want to play a game?”

“My legs aren’t as efficient as all of yours and I can’t use my talons to grip when I’m on them.” he answered dryly.

Cody frowned, considering. “What if you could fly?”

“Is that really a good idea?” Kade interrupted.

Cody shrugged, then turned back to the avian. “Are you going to leave if we give you back your flight?”

“Where would I go?” Buzzsaw scoffed. “I refuse to return to the Decepticons, and I’d sooner eat my own thrusters than join the Autobots.”

Cody blinked, then beamed. It as clear he understood what Buzzsaw was really saying. It made him want to groan. He was getting soft. When had he gotten so easy to read? And by a tiny organic, no less.

“You won’t leave.” he translated. Then he turned to Blades. “Can you do it?” he asked hopefully.

Blades hummed, already walking over. “Are you sure?

“I’m sure.” Cody confirmed.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Buzzsaw offered in a low drawl. “Cody wanted to fix me, so now he’s stuck with me.”

Blades and Cody both giggled, but then copter bot got to work. The Cassette didn’t move as his turbines and anti-gravs were reconnected with his main flight system, and then Blades was stepping back.

Buzzsaw stood, wings spreading fully. He crouched, then leapt up and activated his turbines. They roared to life, his anti-gravs clicking on, and he let out a victorious shriek as he flew in a wide circle around the ball court. After another few circles and dives, he glided down to land next to Cody.

“So.” he hummed. “How about a ride?”

Cody jerked in surprise, and grinned. “Seriously?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I lack hands. I have no way of holding on to the ball, and my talons and beak would pop it.” he sniffed. “You’d be doing me a favor, honestly.

“Noble!” Cody breathed.

Buzzsaw had learned what Cody meant with that odd phrase in the last few weeks. He lowered his helm and bent his legs, letting the human clamber in to his back. He had a set of thrusters lower down on his back, but unlike Seekers, Jets, or Shuttles his only served the purpose of granting him a speed boost in the air. He didn’t actually need them to get airborne.

Once Cody was seated securely at the base of his neck, Buzzsaw straightened and took to the air. He circled the court, and with a toss of the ball, the game began.

——————————

The rescue missions weren’t unusual. At least a couple times a week, something happened on the island that required the whole team to mobilize. Most of the time though, it was simple. An earth cat stuck in a tree, a lost hiker, a damaged traffic light. The type of thing that only required one or two of the Rescue Bots to handle. Today, it seemed, would not be one of those times.

It had started out peacefully. The Rescue Bots had been out of the bunker, taking care of various things around the island. Boulder was on a “nature walk” with Blades and their partners. Heatwave was with Kade at the school teaching a fire safety class. Chase and his partner were out on a patrol. Cody had remained behind, and he and Buzzsaw were seated on the couch of the lounge watching what the human had called “cable TV”. Buzzsaw didn’t get the point.

Then the program they’d been watching had been taken over by a news report. There was a massive landslide in the mountain that was threatening to bury the whole town. Immediately, the rescue alarm sounded and Cody was racing to the command center. Buzzsaw stayed where he was, as he usually did when an emergency occurred. On the screen, he watched the chaos unfold. Thankfully, the human reporter was there with his camera to record everything.

It didn’t take long for the Rescue Bots to get to the site. It seemed to be progressing well, from what the again observed. Then Blades flew too low, and a stray rock took out his tail rotor. He was forced to land, and the team lost their aerial view. Blades could still help the team on the ground, but without proper “eyes in the sky” as Cody had called it, they would doubtless miss things.

Buzzsaw didn’t really think before he hopped off the couch. He flew to the lift, tapping the console that raised it, and as soon as he had space he was flying up and out of the firehouse. He flew around to where he knew the command center was, noting that the main window was open. Good. He landed on the ledge, optics locking on the screens Cody was viewing. Yes, things were definitely going badly.

“Just hang on, everyone! I’ve called Optimus, he said he’ll be here as soon as he can!”

“Yo don’t need Prime. You need an aerial view. That’s why you’re missing things.”

Cody whirled around. “Buzzsaw!” he cried out. “That’s not possible. Blades is down and there’s no way he can fly with his tail rotor damaged.”

“I know.” the avian straightened. “I’ll go.”

Cody froze. “Buzzsaw, are you sure?”

Before the Cassette could respond, the comm. burst to life. Clearly the others had heard their discussion.

“There’s no time to debate this! Lives are at stake! Cody, do you trust Buzzsaw?” Chief Burns demanded.

“Yeah, Dad. I do.”

“Then give him a communicator and send him out here. He’s right. We need eyes in the sky.”

Cody looked up at him, then nodded. He dug around a drawer, then walked over to Buzzsaw with a comm. unit in hand. He let it magnetize itself to the side of the avian’s helm, and quickly returned to the command console. Buzzsaw would definitely need the comm. His internal comm. system was still disabled. He didn’t say anything to the human, and instead turned and took to the skies.

It didn’t take him long to reach the disaster site. Immediately, he could see where he was needed.

“Heatwave, around the corner from you there’s a boulder baring down on a human couple.” he said sharply.

The firetruck replied with an acknowledgment and went to take care of it. Buzzsaw didn’t pay any mind. He was already focusing on the next issue that needed addressing.

“Boulder, mud and stone are about to take out those houses behind you.”

The bulldozer quickly went to take care of it, digging a trench in front of the houses to keep them from being hit. Buzzsaw moved on.

“Chase, down the mountain from you there’s a human youngling trying to outrun the landslide.”

The police car was quick to move and save the child. Buzzsaw didn’t pay much more attention after that. He couldn’t afford to. He needed all his focus on finding the smaller emergencies within the larger landslide before they could happen. Cody trusted him. He was the first in many years to do so. Buzzsaw refused to let him down.

The boy had earned his loyalty, though damn him if he didn’t know when. He didn’t intend to disappoint the one who had so much faith that he could be more than what he had been. Failure here wasn’t an option.

It never was.

——————————

By the end of the whole ordeal, Buzzsaw was reeling. He’d been part of a team again, even if only temporarily. It had been…nice. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it. But now the job was done, and he was on his way back to the firehouse. The others had remained behind to do cleanup work, and apparently Chief Burns would also need to explain his presence to the political leader of the town with an excuse.

He made his way back to the firehouse, his processor starting to calm after the excitement. As he neared, his sensors picked a Cybertronian signal in the courtyard where the basketball court was. It only took a moment to realize who it was. Cody had called in the Prime for help, but that help was no longer needed. That didn’t mean the message had gotten to Prime in time, though.

Sure enough, when the firehouse came into view Buzzzsaw saw Optimus Prime standing in the courtyard. Cody was at his pedes. The avian flew down, alighting on the back of the hoop in front of the larger bot. He would ordinarily have landed next to Cody, but he’d spent too long seeing the Prime as an enemy to put himself on the ground in front of the large mech.

“Buzzsaw.” Prime greeted. “I was told you provided aid to the Rescue Bots.”

Buzzsaw didn’t say anything.

“Tell me, what would you do if you were able to leave?”

“I can.” he snapped. “I’ve got flight. I’ve had it for a while.”

Prime’s lips twitched. “So you have.” he agreed. “Then what are your intentions?”

“Cody decided to get into my business. As far as I’m concerned, he’s stuck with me now, whether he likes it or not.” he scoffed.

Prime’s lips twitched again. Clearly, he had been able to read between the lines to understand what Buzzsaw was saying.

“In that case,” he rumbled. “How would you like to join the Rescue Bots here on Griffin Rock?”

Buzzsaw shuttered his optics. “What.” he deadpanned.

“Would you like to become a Rescue Bot, Buzzsaw?”

“I don’t believe that’s up to me, Prime.” he pointed out. “Or you, for that matter. You don’t lead the team.” he sneered.

“Oh, for Primus’s sake.” Heatwave’s voice came over the comm.

Oh. That was right. Buzzsaw was still hooked into the team’s communications system. The Prime must have opened the previously silent comm. line to Heatewve for at least part of the conversation.

“Choose for yourself, Buzzsaw.” Heatwave continued. “If you want to, we’ll all be happy to have you. You proved to be a good teammate today. No one will have a problem with it. Pit, I’m the one who told Optimus to make the offer before you got there.” Then the comm. clicked off.

“Oh.” Buzzsaw said.

“Indeed.” Prime seemed amused, the fragger. Buzzsaw hoped he got slagged. “What Will it be, then?”

The avian cocked his head sharply. “Ugh.” he made a noise of disgust. “You know what? Fine. The soft idiots need all the help they can get.”

Prime chuckled, then lifted his hand. The armor in his palm shifted, and then a laser was shooting out and hitting Buzzsaw’s chest. There was no pain from it, and he watched as the Rescue Bot badge was put on his armor. The laser stopped, and the Cassette spent a moment staring at the new mark emblazoned on his chestplate.

He looked up when he heard Prime move. “I must leave now, I’m afraid. I am needed elsewhere.” the mech said, inclining his head towards them. Then he walked to the road, folded into his alt-mode, and drove off.

Buzzsaw stared after him, and after a moment he fluttered down to land next to Cody. The human smiled up at him, then lowered his gaze to the new badge on his chest. He lifted a hand to press it over the black lines, looking pleased.

“You’re sure?” he said softly.

Buzzsaw scoffed. “I wouldn’t have agreed if I wasn’t sure. Like I told Prime. You made the decision to get involved with me, so now you’re stuck with me. I’m not leaving, no matter how much you want me to.” he said, his sneer lacking all its usual bite. He paused. “Besides,” he continued, his voice just a notch softer. “You really aren’t all that bad.”

Cody blinked once, then beamed.

Buzzsaw had to look away, feeling almost embarrassed. He hadn’t dared to hope for so many years, but it seemed Primus had deigned to show him kindness after all.

He’d finally found a new roost.

———————————————————————————————————

Well. That’s done! That was long. It took me multiple days to write. But! It’s done!

I had fun with it. Buzzsaw is a grumpy asshole and Cody is very indulgent of his dramatics. And yes, I made him capable of speech. I know he and the Laserbeak can talk in the comics, so.

Also, please excuse my liberal use of headcanons for some of this. Anyway. I hope y’all liked it! I’m sorry it took so long to get out.

Until next time, folks!

[thehomothings]

Analysis of Kite's conflicting moralities, relationship with death, and the toll reincarnation may take on one's psyche

So, today I decided to compile all the thoughts I have had about Kite's interesting worldview since the first time I saw him into one post, mostly for my own sake, really. If you're familiar with the few posts I've made, you know it's gonna be a mess, but hopefully a comprehensible mess.

A heads up, this is going to be spoiler-heavy, and very much deal with subjects of death and dying as a whole. Also, some of these conclusions are drawn from my own experiences and close brushes with death, I'm not going to go into much detail but it might get personal and definitely dark. I'm not even sure if I can call this a meta-analysis, and I'm obviously no expert, so mayhaps take all of this with a grain of salt.

Been getting into drawing lately, and during the more simple and mindless part of the painstaking process of dotting every single star in this, I let my thoughts wander through the latest part of the fic I'm writing, and I got a better grasp on what exactly made Kite such an elusive character to me.

I'm not quite sure why I got so attached to Kite. Perhaps it was the air of tragedy surrounding him, how despite his sordid past he remained still open and gentle even if outlined by a healthy dose of cynicism.

But sometimes, I think it's the fact that he is so paradoxical. He's brave, yet fears death to such a degree that creates a whole Nen ability around it, is a pacifist yet will not hesitate to spill blood for his own sake or someone else's. Despite the many ultimatums and warnings of 'I will not protect you', he gave his arm and then his life to save Gon and Killua. He approaches each hunt and battle with a clear plan of action in mind, but his Hatsu takes the form of a roulette that gives him random weapons which are never what he wants, but what he seems to need for that exact situation, which he cannot dispel without using. When he draws a weapon, the decision is locked in and his or his opponent's fate is sealed. That's why each time he dubbs his weapon a bad roll. Every time he has to gamble, he sees himself as having run out of luck. When it comes to having to choose between himself and somebody else...well, there had never been a choice. In fact his aversion to using it may feed into its sheer power that we, unfortunately, saw too little of.

Let's go over his very first appearance when he saves Gon from the mother Foxbear.

It's not hard to see the strain searching for Ging has put on him; he's rash, prone to anger and punching a child for daring to get into trouble. In his mind, he's failing at his most important task, has not yet earned the right to call himself a hunter despite being in possession of his very own hunter license.

After killing the mother Foxbear and raging about having done so, he says this interesting line:

So yes, he finds killing for any reason rather irksome as most would do, yet I think something deeper caused him to absolutely lose it in this scene:

He had not been aware of Gon's identity, and despite being an animal lover and a naturalist, he made a choice to save the human instead of allowing nature to run its course. In fact, he says: 'No beast that harms a human must be allowed to live.'

How does one weight one life against another? How is the worth of it determined? The value of life... an impossible choice he's faced with and a choice which he seems to regret to some degree.

The Foxbear cub.

Here, he's speaking from experience, a tangible loss he has felt himself, and a hard and bitter life he does not want to impose on the cub.

His backstory is exclusive to the 2011 anime adaptation but there are hints alluding to it in the manga, for example, the fact that he does not seem to know his birthplace, or:

The choice of words is chilling.

Reading between the lines, one could draw the conclusion that he is an orphan. Something supporting this hypothesis is how he visibly deflates after Gon tells him his parents have (presumably) died.

So we see he is willing to go against his own moral code of not killing as to not doom another living being to the life he led, a lonely, hopeless existence that could barely be called one. He saw it best to put down the cub rather than leave it to die a painful, slow death.

The reason Kite himself isn't as cynical and cold-hearted as one would be after witnessing cruelty in its rawest form is those small crumbs of human kindness which he may have found in Ging.

It was not only a chance at an honorable life being Ging's apprentice gave him, but it also 'saved' him from being broken and twisted into what he hated and worst of all, death.

If we take that one minute of backstory as canon to his character-which I find myself inclined to do- these quirks of his make much more sense. He lived on the run. He lived on the knife's edge between giving up or pushing forwards. He lived as so a wrong move could be the difference between survival and the end.

Between rock and a hard place creates a mentality of black and white, absolute good or extreme evil, this or that. Except in reality, it's much harder than that. Deciding who to save and who to strike down is a heavy burden to bear.

It's almost easy to see how struggling to keep surviving could lend itself to a crippling fear of death and subsequently developing a Nen ability which once more goes against his own moral code in order to give himself a second chance...yet something about it strikes me as unlikely when I look at it this way.

Living life knowing it could end at any moment has the opposite effect, at least for me it did. One comes to accept that it is fleeting and while not eager to let it go, when death eventually and inevitably does come, there is no fighting it.

Especially when there is no hope that tomorrow will be a better day than this one.

Frequent near-death experiences numb one's fear in a way, even if it drives them to take precautions that render it unlikely to happen again and results in c-PTSD, but still, it does. It sparks a certain nihilistic view of 'if it all can end so easily, then what's the point of it all?'

Unless there are things to live for, a sure promise of a better future, and Ging gave Kite that. When he faced the threat of losing his second chance at life:

Really, what else could lead someone to develop the ability of 'the hell I'm going to die like this'?

I think a separate event, an even more brutal near-death experience that almost cost him his life as the hunter he so strived to be set him off to develop the secret roll of Crazy Slots, what I call Roll No.0, Ars moriendi. Unlike other weapons, it cannot come up in random and is directly summoned by him, or better said, summon by his overwhelming will to keep going and hopelessness of fighting a losing battle. I don't believe roll No.3 was the weapon that allowed him to reincarnate. I've named that one Wand of Fortune, a sort of armor instead of an offensive weapon since I find it hard to believe Kite, a Conjurer, would not focus on defences as well, and I will go into both mechanisms of these weapons hopefully in his backstory.

Despite knowing this battle to be a pointless one and being acutely aware of his soon to be demise, he did not immediately draw Ars moriendi, no, he stayed back and fought for the sake of the boys, kept Neferpitou occupied until they could reach safety. We can see evidence of this in the aftermath of the battle that seemed to have gone on until dawn, a torn apart landscape only signaling a fraction of the devastation that was Kite's power unleashed. It still wasn't enough.

In the anime sub I watched, when Gon apologizes to Ging about Kite's death, Ging said a sentence that infuriated me, because it belittled the utter suffering of the NGL trio.

"He would not die in your place." (No screenshot, sorry)

And I remember practically shouting at the screen, screaming 'how could you possibly say that? Of course he did. He absolutely did die in their place. How could you not know your own apprentice? Why-'

It was only last night that it hit me why Ging would say that.

Once upon a time, maybe Kite would not have given his life for anybody under any circumstances, even if he had a way out of it all. He would still need to die to come back to life.

His Thanatophobia could be attributed to the (possibly untreated) PTSD of the near-death experience in his later life, being so certain of dying that finding himself alive afterwards drove him to never want to go through that again. He quieted his fear by creating a sort of a loophole, that even if he lost the battle he would remain. Ging remembered that, but as evidence shows, something changed. Maybe he healed a bit, perhaps growing up dulled his fear to a certain degree, but eventually when it came down to his life or another's, he didn't choose himself.

Now, I can hear you saying 'but he didn't die, so what are you going on about??' And so I reply: Yes, he is alive, but he did die. He experienced that painful, horrible moment of staring death in the eyes and thinking 'This is it, this is the end', went through the actual process of having his soul removed from his body. And that moment stretches into infinity, ten lifetimes condensed into the mere seconds before oblivion.

Dying isn't so hard if one stays dead.

It's not so easy to open one's eyes and find oneself alive again after that, no matter how much that is the heart's desire. It's difficult, nigh-impossible to reconcile with life and walk amongst the living when everything had been so final, when death had been accepted to its fullest.

So Kite awakens, the twin of Meruem and back from the dead, his mind and identity both intact and fractured. In that he is Kite is no mistaking, yet he is not the same gentle pacifist whose first reaction upon sensing a monster's aura was to shield two kids from it at the cost of his arm.

I don't think many of you are familiar with Zoroastrian ideology, but Togashi is known for loving his religious imagery, and it's not only Christianism he derives inspiration from (evidence of which can be seen all over Kite's character and resurrection).

In Zurvanism-a branch of Zoroastrianism- there is talk of the twin spirits: Ahura Mazda -epitome of all that is good- and Ahriman -epitome of all that is evil-, the parent god Zurvin decides that the firstborn may rule in order to bring "heaven, hell, and everything in between."

Upon becoming aware of this fact, Ahriman forcibly tears through the womb to emerge first. Sounding familiar yet?

Zurvan relents to this turn of events only on one condition: Ahriman is given kingship for 9000 years, and then Ahura Mazda may rule for eternity.

Meruem ruled for 40 days, his death leaving the throne vacant for ant Kite, wearing a dead girl's face and seeming to be brewing some nefarious plan. No more is there any sign of that unrelenting pacifism and the sanctity of life he held so high, losing his own may have only served to show him how meaningless the pain and suffering he went through had been, dying only to be reborn as a member of the species that killed him. It may be that he has no desire to rule over the remaining Chimera ants or create an army of his own-

Yet I dread to think what a broken mind possessing limitless power might do to the world.

And that's it. If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found it interesting, stay tuned, as I think a lot and I will make it your problem.