#loved seeing how the war changed everything around him so quick

[seresinhangmanjake]

To add on to my last ask about the celebrating the holiday for the sake of Feyds new wife:

LIKE SHE MAKES FEYD A FLOWER CROWN AND HE WEARS IT

Like from the “friendship bracelet” dialogue from bobs burgers

Wife: :)I made you a flower crown!:)

Feyd: *thinly veiled annoyance and disapproval*

Wife: :( you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to :(

Feyd: No, I’m gonna wear it. Forever. Back off.

Anniversary

Feyd-Rautha x wife!reader

Summary: Giedi Prime is different than your home planet. They don’t celebrate the things you used to. So, you show your husband one of your traditions to mark the first year of your marriage. 

Notes/Warnings: none, i think. It's just a cute fluffy thing.

Words: 1050

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List

You once would’ve bet everything you had that you would never fall in love with him; from every coin to your family’s name, to every extravagant gown you owned, to every jewel that adorned your neck. When you walked down the aisle, you saw something vile waiting for you at the other end, not the husband you would come to have. You saw a snake to match the name of Harkonnen, and the prospect of a future together made your stomach turn. Until you became his wife. 

What you expected in the form of threatening words and a knife to the throat on your wedding night didn’t come. He left you alone when you told him that was what you wanted. In fact, he left you alone in every aspect of your relationship until you were ready to come to him. 

That moment came three months later. For those three months, he made sure you were comfortable, as happy as you could be, well-taken care of, and he didn’t once force his presence upon you. From that, you opened yourself to him and, in a quick decision one night, dressed yourself up, went to his room, and let him take you. 

You’ve been inseparable ever since, unwilling to leave his side and vice versa, even when he’s needed elsewhere. He takes you with him to his meetings, his executions, Arrakis. You’re his wife, in all senses of the title. And as more time has passed, you’ve adjusted to being a Harkonnen wife; everything it means, down to the things you gain and the losses you face. 

The most difficult of losses have been the traditions you grew up with. You don’t see your family anymore—as enemies of Giedi Prime, they aren’t exactly welcome on the planet—and so the values your House believes and partakes in have disappeared from your life. Holidays celebrated on your home planet do not exist on Giedi Prime. Religion is not the same. Your people bow to a Goddess. Harkonnens bow to Harkonnens. Your people bask in the changes of the seasons. Giedi Prime doesn’t experience those same seasons due to the lack of rotation around their sun. Celebrations do not exist for anything other than war victories and birthdays. But most painful are the anniversaries that go entirely unacknowledged. 

At home, anniversaries are one of the grandest events. Another year of love, of shared life. Each year, you watched your parents grow giddy as their anniversary neared, and you witnessed the people of your planet rejoice for them as if it were their own milestone of marriage. 

Giedi Prime—the Harkonnens—do not care for that. Something to do with wives not lasting very long in their House. History states you’re one of few who has made it to a year of marriage with a Harkonnen, as most women, unless pregnant with an heir, have offended their spouse in some manner and so have received that dreaded knife to the throat. 

You’re lucky there, you suppose, but it doesn’t make you miss the things you can no longer have any less. And Feyd has noticed.

“Tell me what is wrong,” he says to you as he sits beside you on your bed. 

You hesitate, fearing laughter and jokes about how ridiculous your upbringing was—it wouldn’t be the first time—but when you explain further, he’s much more receptive than you imagined.

“A celebration of love?” he asks. His brow raises, but he doesn’t scoff. 

“Yes,” you say. “Back home, couples do not have to stay together. If they are unhappy, they separate–” His head jerks and he makes a displeased face. “Staying together, continuing to be in love with each year that goes by, is considered an achievement. Something worthy of praise and pride.”

“And you want this…praise?” He doesn’t understand. Praise is harder earned in his world. Praise comes when pain is inflicted. “How do you receive praise for love?”

“People have parties–”

“We cannot have a party for this.”

You take his hand in your lap. “No, I know,” you say. “But there’s also gifts.”

He shakes his head. “No one will–”

“Between us,” you stop him. “We give each other a present as a symbol of the strength of our love.”

He thinks on your words for a few moments, slightly staring off into space, until he says, “Like what?”

“Well…” Taking your hand back, you reach into your nightstand drawer and pull out a small box. “Something like this.” You peel back the lid of the box to reveal a black band with a ring of silver running through the middle. “I had this made.”

“A ring?”

As you nod, you set the small box down between you. “It’s a wedding ring. I know you don’t exchange those on your wedding day here, but back home, when you say vows, each person puts their ring on the other’s finger. This one right here,” you say, tapping the correct finger on your hand. “It’s a kind of ownership that you show to the world. You’re telling everyone that you’re taken by someone who loves you.”

Feyd swallows, his eyes flicking back and forth between yours and the ring. “People know you belong to someone else if you wear this on your planet?”

“Yes. And seeing as you belong to me, I thought…” you pause, realizing he might hate the idea. What if it bothers him? What if the light weight throws off his knife skills? What if it gets in the way of his armor? You didn’t think about these problems until now when he’s blankly staring at the damn thing. 

Feyd plucks the ring from the box and puts it up to the light. “They all look like this?”

“They’re all different,” you tell him. “If you don’t want to wear it–”

He slips it onto the correct finger. “I’m never taking it off.”

“Wh–” Your eyes blow wide. “Really?”

“Never,” he says, still staring at the onyx circle around his finger. “Even my enemies will know I’m taken.” You sigh. A chuckle of relief leaves your throat, and he turns his gaze to you. “I’ll make one for you.”

“Oh! But you don’t have to just because I did.”

His features twist in disapproval. “You belong to me as much as I belong to you, do you not?”

“Yes.”

“Then you will wear one as well. Silver,” he says. His hand raises to cup your cheek. His thumb brushes over your cheekbone. The ring is cold against your skin. “With black diamonds.”

“You want to match?”

“Yes.”

[i-upset-to-dead-65]

How I imagine Snow's progression of being reminded of Lucy Gray throughout the Hunger Games trilogy

1. Katniss volunteers. How cute. She has no chance of living past the bloodbath. Her name sounds familiar.

2. Katniss scores an 11 in training. So what she shot an arrow at the game makers. Well, that 11 will put a target on her and she's no match for the rest.

3. Peeta reveals he is in love with Katniss. What an interesting angle. Definitely some kind of ploy. Viewership will be up, as well as sponsors. Interesting to see how this plays out.

4. Katniss is trapped by the careers and Peeta. Aw, look, she dropped a hive on her boyfriend. Looks like she doesn't like him after all.

5. Katniss allies with Rue. Odd, and a terrible choice for an ally.

6. Rue mentions her pin, a mockingjay. The connection is made. Katniss, that swamp potato dug up by Lucy Gray and her mockingjays that still infest the districts. His dislike for Katniss grows.

7. Rue dies and Katniss sings the Meadow Song to her. A jolt runs up his spine. That old song, sung to Maude Ivory by Lucy Gray. It's still around in District 12 and now it's on national television. Snow knows how much the Capitol loves singing tributes.

8. The new rules are announced. This will be interesting. Of course, there's no way Peeta will live long enough for there to actually be two victors.

9. Katniss and Peeta are in the cave, and Peeta begins to recover. The huge influx of sponsored gifts is concerning. Katniss will hopefully die at the Feast trying to get medicine.

10. Peeta makes a full recovery. That wasn't supposed to happen, but the Capitol loves it.

11. Cato dies. Seneca didn't think they'd get this far. Time to revoke the rule change. Katniss will kill Peeta or vice versa. These children barely know each other, and in the Games they resort to their basic human nature of violence. Oh look, she's even pointing her bow at him.

12. The berries. The double victory. Seneca Crane is a dead man. They have outsmarted the idiot game makers. Snow is once again reminded of his cheating in order to help Lucy Gray win. How well that turned out for her in the end.

13. After the games. Snow is certain they are putting on an act to survive and meanwhile, defy the Capitol. Peeta is good with the crowd and is quick witted. So much like Lucy Gray. Katiss is impulsive and heartfelt. So much like Sejanus.

14. Snow learns Katniss hunts in the woods, he possibly traces her lineage, and he finds out everything he can about her. Snow takes measures to quell the rebellion brewing and control Katniss and Peeta throughout Catching Fire.

15. Katniss's wedding dress burns away into a Mockingjay dress. That damn bird again.

16. The force field gets blown out, and tributes escape. Snow recalls when the 10th Hunger Games arena was bombed.

17. Katniss's first propo is televised in the districts, declaring herself the Mockingjay. He should have killed all those birds when he had a chance.

18. The Hanging Tree propo airs. He'd almost forgotten Lucy Gray's songs. How could this girl, now, know them? The song was banned, Lucy Gray was dead. She was dead, right?

19. The rebels in District 5 sing the Hanging Tree while blowing up the damn. Chills run up his spine as he watches the live feed. A crowd of an indiscernable number flood the walkways to the hydro dam. They're singing a song they didn't know yesterday. A song no one knew until now. A song that was as dead as Lucy Gray. Except, she wasn't dead. How could she be, if her song is still sung? The dam blows and the lights go out in the Capitol. Snow half expects the ghost of Lucy Gray herself to appear before him.

20. The war is over. The Mockingjay has won. She appeared from nowhere, echoing the songs of Lucy Gray like the birds themselves. Well played, Lucy Gray. Well played.

[scarfacemarston]

Bucky Barnes A-Z Fluff Alphabet!

Feel free to send in more requests for Bucky! Please think about "liking" and reblogging! These things take time. Also, I included a lot of 1940s Bucky as a comparison.

A - Affection (how do they show affection to their s/o)

Bucky has always been physically affectionate, but this changed after escaping his time in Hydra captivity. He's slowly beginning to experience positive touches again and quickly discovered how touch-starved he is, so physical touch is a significant way he shows affection, but there are days when he'll request not to be touched. He tries to be encouraging and complimentary, but he feels like it comes across as awkward and stilted. He'll try for quality time, but he does worry if he's overstaying his welcome. However, he does become less anxious as time goes on.

B - Best Friend (what are they like as a best friend?)

Look at Steve, for example! He's loyal to a fault. He will put his friend's well-being way beyond his own. He considers himself less of a decent friend than before, but he's wrong. He's just as great a friend as he used to be.  He's just as loyal and self-sacrificing. He will drop everything the moment you need help. The only reason he is ever distant is because he doesn't believe he's worthy of friendship, and his anxiety and depression get in the way. He will always doubt himself, but again, it improves in time.

C - Cuddling (do they like to cuddle? And how would they do it?)

Yes, physical touch with those he trusts is a soothing balm for him. He's always loved it when someone played with his hair, or he could hold hands, place an arm around his partner's waist - he loves it all, so loving to cuddle is really no surprise. He occasionally doesn't want to be touched, and that space is important to him, but otherwise, he'd be happy to be cuddled basically any time. It doesn't matter what position - he loves them all, but his favorite is lying on his back with your head on his chest.

D - Domestic (do they want to settle down? How good are they at cooking and cleaning)

In the 40s, he was expected to settle down at some point and probably would have in some form after the war. He still feels as though he has these expectations today, but it's more of a ghost memory than anything else. He'd be surprised that someone wants that with him - unless it's Steve. If it's Steve, he's not surprised at all and would consider it a continuation of their lives in Brooklyn. With a new partner, he can be convinced to settle down; he just wants to be sure that it's what you want. He knows how to clean and can cook simple meals, as we see in Romania. In the 30s and 40s, it was very much bachelor food like canned soup and a relatively clean, if not bare, apartment. Bucky can be a combination of messy and neat. It depends on his mental health. However, his residence is so devoid of decor that it's hard to make it messy. (This is seen with the comics as well.) He does improve when you move in with him. He enjoys cooking now in comparison to the 40s.

E - Ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He's very quiet but very gentle and kind about it. He doesn't expect you to understand why, and he is hard on himself for breaking it off. He is more likely to break it off because of his own self-doubt, but he does have boundaries that, if broken - he will break it off. He expects you to hate him afterward and understands if you do, but his mind will not change.

F - Fiancé (how do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

In the 40s, Bucky loved dating around - he wasn't a himbo, but he did enjoy pursuing different people. He didn't want to settle down yet - unless it was with Steve, which was something he didn't want to think about logistically. However, he doesn't take commitment for granted nowadays and realizes how valuable it can be. He's not sure about marriage as it's nothing he ever really thought about outside of his mother reminding him he "should" get married, but if it feels right and it's discussed, he might be convinced. 

G - Gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Bucky is very methodological physically and emotionally speaking. He is very tender and careful, but steady physically speaking.He is especially careful with his prosthetic. Emotionally, he is stronger than one would expect. He isn't a pushover, and will defend himself or anyone else who needs defending, but he is gentler now than before he was the Winter Soldier.

H: Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) 

Once there's trust between you, yes. He loves hugs. He loved them in the 40s, and he loves them now. He definitely loves to be greeted with a hug and likes to give you a hug before he leaves somewhere, like a mission or therapy. They're very firm but gentle.

I: I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It would take Bucky a while before he said he loved you. The problem is, he either plans how he'll say it—his preference—or accidentally blurts it out in an especially tender moment and then dies of embarrassment. I would say it takes about half a year, but it really depends on your bond. 

J: Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

The 1940s Bucky could get quite jealous. It wasn't a toxic masculinity thing, but it was definitely something he sometimes struggled with. He was never abusive about it, EVER, but it was something that bothered him, as seen with The First Avenger. Nowadays, he's less likely to be jealous because his confidence levels are a bit lower than before, but the more robust your bond, the more likely he is to get jealous because the two of you put so much work into it. He is definitely the type to give the death glare to end all death glares, make a snide comment, or generally find a way to stay by your side. 

K: Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you?)

It really depends on his mood, as it does with anyone. Sometimes, he can give playful kisses, peppering them all over your face as he refuses to let go, or they can be slow and tender, full of meaning and gratefulness, or they can be scorching, searing, and passionate.

L: Little Ones (How are they with kids?)

Bucky has always been good with kids, even in the 40s, and that's thanks in part to having three little sisters. We also see the children in Wakanda love him. He's very relaxed and more himself around children. In the 40s, his mother used to harass him about when he'd give her grandkids. 

M: Mornings (How are mornings spent with them?)

In the 40s, it was getting up at the crack of dawn to work at the docks for 9-12 hour shifts, with him sleeping in late on the weekends. Now, he still sleeps late because he feels like he doesn't have anything else to do. However, given a routine and responsibilities like helping the Avengers or going on missions, he is more likely to keep a decent schedule. It's also his insomnia that causes him to sleep in more, but not as late as he used to. Now, he'll spend the mornings trying to coax you to stay in bed with him, whether that's through cuddles or fun. ; )

N: Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Again, insomnia is his worst enemy. He tends to take late-night walks or read late into the night before staring at the ceiling, waiting for sleep. Now, he does those things, but he can also enjoy sex with you, cuddling, or watching something stupid on TV. 

O: Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Bucky was semi-open about himself in the 40s, but he was actually more likely to ask about you than about him. Sure, he'd talk about his family, Steve, or his work, but that was about it. However, that was partially the toxic belief that men just don't reveal everything about themselves. Now, it's more about feeling safe to do so and what is "too much." What will chase you away? When will it happen? However, as usual, with trust, this changes, and while there is much he will never reveal, he slowly opens up. 

P: Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He could be a bit fiery in the 40s, but nothing compared to Steve. He was a saint in comparison to Steve. His anger is more biting and calling someone out, maybe raising his voice in the 40s. Now, it's more stormy and quiet. It can be biting, though, and there are still elements of him from the 40s with snide comments - but he hates to fight and would prefer to do anything to prevent it, or if there has to be a fight - find a resolution as soon as possible.

Q: Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every detail in passing, or do they kind of forget? )

In the 40s, he tried to remember as much as he could and actually impressed people with how thoughtful he could be. He remembered everything about Steve, his sisters, and the commandos, but also things about his enemies. Nowadays, he struggles with his memory, but he sometimes writes important things in his journal so he can remember them. However, the will is there, and he tries very hard.

R: Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The first time you watched a movie together and you put your head on his shoulder. It was the first time someone had done that to him since before he fell off the train. That moment turned into full on cuddling during the movie and he was so anxious - but giddy, that he couldn't focus on the movie.

S: Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) 

1940s Bucky was very protective in about every way imaginable, but especially in the stereotypical 1940s ways. However, Bucky now isn't entirely too different from that. The main difference is that he is a little more modern in how he views women and that he is a bit more physically protective. Unsurprisingly, he is very concerned someone from his past might harm you. He's the type that wants you to text him when you get home safely and has similar habits. Emotionally, he has no problem standing up for you. It's something he's always been good at.

T: Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, and gifts?)

He's always been thoughtful about dates, anniversaries, and gifts from childhood to now. He never had much money, so every penny had to count. If he couldn't buy something, he would plan extensively for just the right type of event to attend. With dates, he was a bit more traditional and knew what worked, like dinner and a movie or the carnival, but that doesn't mean he didn't put thought into it. Bucky is the same now, except perhaps even more thoughtful about it. He was always observant, but now he listens more than he talks, whereas before, it was the opposite. He may have more money now, but he prefers to put a lot of thought into what he gets you or something that can help you. Nowadays, he overthinks what he should do for a date or anniversary, but it's always wonderful even when things don't go as planned.

U: Ugly (What would be a bad habit of theirs?)

His self depreciation is pretty bad. His low self confidence also tends to get in the way of things - but it is of no fault of his own! As for an actual habit, he grinds his teeth and clenches his jaw too often giving him jaw pain. 

V: Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Bucky could be quite vain in the 40s and spent quite a bit of time on his hair. He didn't have a choice about his appearance as the Winter Soldier and afterwards, he was too focused on survival and blending in to really care about his appearance. He is trying to get more into self care habits and rituals and you encourage him to spend time on himself, but he doesn't care like he once did. 

W: Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Bucky was surrounded by people in the 40s so he would notice it less if his partner was gone, but he would still feel it! I just think he would bounce back quicker depending on how the relationship was while with Bucky now; he always tries to prepare for the worst and prepare himself for if you do leave him. He would survive, but he would feel like a light was extinguished.

X: Xtra (A random headcanon for them)

Bucky really misses the Indiana house he had to sell. He really wanted to stay there, build a community, and potentially raise a family there, but it wasn't meant to be. (This is more comic verse-esque)

Z: Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Bucky used to be a stomach sleeper, but that quit when he joined the army. It was too uncomfortable to sleep on his stomach then. It's not as easy with his prosthetic, but he still sleeps on his stomach sometimes. (This is canon for Comic Bucky.) 

[dixons-sunshine]

You Are My Sunshine | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: Being pregnant was a challenge, and being pregnant in an apocalypse came with a whole set of challenges on its own. Luckily, you had Daryl to take care of you, even if he was a little bit overprotective.

Genre: Fluff

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour war, pre the building of the bridge.

Warnings: Swearing, probably other things I can’t think of right now.

A/N: I don’t really know if pregnant ladies not being allowed to lift heavy things is factual or not. I just remembered someone telling me once that it could be harmful for the unborn child, and I’ve seen it being mentioned in movies and shows before, so I went based off of that. If it isn’t true, please pretend that it is for my sake lol.

“I know ya can, but it dun’ mean ya have to. Ya need’a take it easy.”

“Daryl, I'm perfectly capable of carrying it myself, you know.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, a small smile spreading over your face. “Dar, I have to do something. I can’t let everyone else do everything while I sit on my ass all day.”

“Yer pregnant. I ain't lettin’ ya overwork yerself. Anyone have a problem with that, let me know and I’ll handle ‘em. I ain’t lettin’ anythin’ happen to our baby jus’ ‘cause some people can’t pick up the slack and ya have to do their work for ‘em.”

“I highly doubt carrying one crate is gonna do anything,” you stated matter-of-factly, walking at a steady pace beside the archer while he was carrying the crate in question back to the pantry.

“Ain’t riskin’ it,” Daryl retorted with a sense of finality, pushing the crate onto one of the shelves before turning to you. He took a step towards you and placed a gentle hand on your growing bump, looking at you with a soft expression. “Ya and this baby, our baby, are the most important people in the world to me. I ain’t lettin’ nothin’ happen to the two of ya. If that means carryin’ a crate so that ya can rest or fightin’ off a herd of walkers so that yer safe, so be it. I’d do anythin’ for you and our lil’ one.”

You smiled softly at the archer you’ve grown to love above everything else. You leaned forward to press a quick, gentle peck on his cheek before leaning back, giggling at the bashful look and blush that coated Daryl’s face from the small action. “Sorry,” you said with a light laugh, aware of his feelings towards public displays of affection. “You’re just too adorable sometimes, you know that?”

That elicited a scoff from Daryl. He withdrew his hand from your bump and stepped back, ducking his head down to let his hair hide the growing blush on his face. “I ain’t adorable,” he retorted quietly.

“You are,” you responded with a light laugh. “There’s nothing you can say that’ll change my mind about that. You, Daryl Dixon, are adorable, sweet, caring and so much more. There honestly aren’t enough adjectives in the dictionary to describe how perfect you are to me.”

Daryl scoffed again. He shook his head at you, but you could see his mouth twitch up into a small smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Nah,” he started, glancing at you through the hair that hung in front of his eyes. “Yer the perfect one. ‘M lucky to call ya mine.”

“Don’t start with me, Dixon. We can go back and forth about who’s more perfect all day,” you joked, successfully gaining a small chuckle from him in response.

“Alright,” he started, taking a step forward to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “I ain’t about to start an argument with the pregnant lady.”

“If that’s the case, does that mean I can help out with the tasks around here?” you asked, batting your eyelashes up at him innocently.

Daryl scoffed and shook his head. “Nah, that I ain’t lettin' happen. I was talkin’ ‘bout petty arguments. Ya need to take it easy and rest. Leave the work to the people who ain’t got unborn babies in their bellies they have to worry ‘bout.”

“Daryl—” you started, about to voice your protest, but the archer cut you off.

“None of that,” he stated with a shake of his head, his tone stern. “Ya remember the times ya wouldn’t let me do much to help out when I was hurt? I could help jus’ fine then too, but ya were worried ‘bout me and takin’ care of me. Let me take care of ya now, alright? Ya have more at stake here than tearin’ a few stitches.”

You pondered over his words for a few moments, hesitantly nodding after a few seconds. “Alright,” you finally agreed with a small sigh. “I haven’t really been getting much sleep these past few days. I guess I can go take a nap or something if that’ll make you feel better.”

“Hey,” Daryl started, taking one of your hands in his. “This ain’t ‘cause I think yer incapable to help out or somethin’. I know ya can, but I would feel better knowin’ yer not accidentally overworkin’ yerself. I’ve seen it happen before. Ya’d get so focused on a task and would overwork yerself without even knowin’ it. I dun’ want that to happen to ya right now.”

“Okay,” you nodded, willing the feelings of being useless away at the archer’s reassuring words, knowing he spoke nothing but the truth. “But the moment you guys desperately need an extra pair of hands, promise me you’ll come get me?”

Daryl nodded half-heartedly, and you could tell that even if he promised he would, he probably wouldn’t come get you. He’d put yours and your baby’s safety above everything else, even at the cost of a few extra hours of work for him and the other Alexandrians.

You leaned up on your toes to press a feathery light kiss to his lips before withdrawing. You gave him a smile before turning to walk out of the pantry towards the home you shared with him. As soon as you reached the front door of your home and pushed inside, you shrugged off your jacket and kicked off your shoes, discarding them by the table next to the entrance. You looked at the expanse of the quiet house and sighed, knowing you’d be alone until the sun started to set.

Well, you thought to yourself, I might as well make the best of my time alone. You went towards the kitchen to get a glass of water before descending up the stairs towards your room. You changed into something more comfortable before settling down on the bed, grabbing the book you were busy reading and flipping to the page you were busy with. You absentmindedly placed one hand over your stomach, the other holding the book as your eyes started to trail over the words on the page.

After a while, the words on the page started to blur together. You blinked repeatedly, hoping to clear your vision, but to no avail. Your eyes fell closed on their own accord, and within a few moments, you were asleep.

The feeling of the bed dipping beside you awoke you from your slumber. You opened your eyes and brought one of your hands up to wipe the sleep out of your eyes. When your vision cleared, you locked eyes with Daryl, the man having a faint, soft smile on his face.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake ya,” he apologized, bringing a hand up to brush the stray hair back and away from your eyes.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, bringing yourself up to a sitting position. You grabbed the book that you had read before falling asleep and placed it on your bedside table, before shifting your attention back to the archer.

Daryl was seated on the edge of the bed, busy pulling his boots off of his feet. When he was done, he laid back against the headboard, bringing his legs up to rest on the bed. His shoulders were slightly slumped, his posture giving away how tired he was. You furrowed your eyebrows at that. The workload hadn’t been that much that day, and as soon as the people were done they could return to their homes, so you couldn’t understand why Daryl looked so tired. Unless...

“Daryl,” you began softly, instantly catching the archer’s attention. “Did more work come in while I was here at home?” Daryl’s silence was enough of an answer. “Daryl—”

“S’fine. Nothin’ we couldn’t handle. Jus’ some buildin’ materials Maggie and the King sent us from their communities to fix up more houses. Rick wanted to get started on the repairs today, so Aaron and I got some people together to start.”

“Daryl,” you started, shaking your head. “I told you that if you needed an extra pair of hands to come and get me.”

“Nah, we were fine. Ya clearly needed the rest.”

“But—” you started to retort, but Daryl cut you off instantly.

“Michonne told me that really heavy liftin’ ain’t good for a pregnant lady. Said it can hurt the baby, so I didn’t want ya carryin’ logs and other heavy materials around. The rest of us can handle that.”

“When did you talk to Michonne?” you asked skeptically, your eyes narrowing in suspicion.

A sheepish look graced Daryl’s features. He avoided your gaze and instead focused his eyes on the bedsheets. “About a week after we found out that yer pregnant,” he admitted, nervously chewing on his bottom lip. “I was askin’ her and Carol what I could do to help make yer pregnancy easier, what would help with yer mornin’ sickness and what ya should avoid doin’, and she told me that ya needed to refrain from liftin’ heavy things. Said it could harm the baby.”

“So that’s why you’ve been so against me helping out around here?” you asked, earning a nod of confirmation from Daryl.

“Yeah. Most of the work we gotta do ‘round here involves heavy liftin’, and I didn’t want ya accidentally hurtin’ yerself or our lil’ one ‘cause of it. That’s why I’ve been so adamant about ya takin’ it easy,” he confirmed, ducking his head in embarrassment. “I didn’t wanna be overbearin’, but ya really wanted to help out with everythin’ and the thought of somethin’ goin’ wrong ‘cause of all the hard work we have to do was too much for me to handle. M’sorry.”

You gently grabbed Daryl’s hand, bringing it up to softly kiss his knuckles. “Why are you sorry? For not wanting anything to happen to me or our baby? You don’t have anything to apologize for. If anything, I should be apologizing.”

“For what?” Daryl asked confusedly, intertwining your fingers with his.

“For being so adamant about working. I just... I didn’t want to feel useless. I didn’t want to feel like a burden because I couldn’t help out.”

Daryl’s eyebrows furrowed, his lips pressing together tightly. “Yer not a burden. Dun’ ever think that. Yer carryin’ a life in yer belly, and that’s takin’ up most of yer energy and time. If anybody has a problem with the fact that ya can’t work as hard as ya used to for the next few months ‘cause yer pregnant, let me know and I’ll beat their ass.”

You smiled at him and pressed a kiss to his lips. When you pulled back, you could feel tears starting to form in your eyes. Daryl noticed it and frowned, concern lacing his voice.

“What’s wrong?” he asked frantically, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks gently. He wiped away the tears that fell with his thumb.

“Hormones,” you said simply, laughing through your tears. “I don’t even really know why I’m crying.”

“C’mere,” Daryl said, wrapping his arms around you and guiding you to lay your head down on his chest. You shifted your body until your were comfortable, wrapping your arms around him as you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Daryl’s arms wrapped around you, one of his hands venturing down to your baby bump. He gently started to caress your stomach, his hand’s soft movements making you sleepy almost instantly.

“M’sorry for bein’ so overprotective,” Daryl voiced after a few moments of silence, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“And I’m sorry for being so stubborn. I promise I’ll be more careful and take it easier from now on,” you promised, nuzzling your head deeper into his chest.

“Thank god,” he sighed in relief. “Any more of yer stubbornness and I would’a been forced to lock ya in the house whenever there was work to do.”

You laughed and lightly hit one of his arms that were wrapped around you, eliciting a chuckle from the archer. “I love you,” you mumbled into his chest.

“I love ya too,” he responded, placing another kiss on your head. "Now get some more rest. I'll be right here when ya wake up.”

You nodded against his chest and closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat, your own personal lullaby. As your eyes drifted closed for the second time that day, you swore you could hear Daryl start to hum a song. A song you’ve been singing to your baby in your stomach since you found out you were pregnant.

You are my sunshine.

A smile formed on your face as Daryl lowly continued to hum the song, his hand still gently caressing your stomach. With the gentle caress of his hand, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the song he was humming, you soon drifted into slumber, safe in your archer’s arms.

[moonlitstoriess]

Across the Universe-ch.2 (Fenrys x Reader)

Summary: Y/n has everything she needs in life. A family, friends, a safe place she calls home and most importantly a male whom she loves. What happens when it all changes when Y/n finds out about the betrayal of her lover and her so called family? Well, ending up in Terassen and in queen Aelin's court was not what she expected but what she will need to start her new journey full of surprises.

See masterlist

A/n: Hey everyone! I am so happy that you guys liked the first chapter of this series which is why I have decided to continue it yayy!! Anywaysss, enjoy this second chapter <3

Y/n could not move, could not think or feel properly as her mind tried to come up with ways to escape whoever the male behind her is. The knife was placed in a way that, if she even dared to move her head an inch, it would slice right through her throat. She was wearing a simple white shirt with black pants and did not have any weapons, except a small knife hidden in her pants pocket, because in a perfect world, she was expecting to still be at home, preparing for bed, not fighting with Azriel and certainly not ending up wherever this place is.

As if he could hear her thoughts, the male slowly lowered the knife but still kept his hold on her as he turned y/n around. The second she turned around, y/n felt weak in the knees as she beheld the male in front of her.

Lucious, wavy and golden blond hair, beautiful sun kissed, golden brown skin and most importantly, those hypnotizing onyx eyes that look darker than a night devoid of stars. Whoever this male is, he was definetly a warrior or atleast a skilled fighter if his broad chest and shoulders that had multiple different kinds of weapons strapped to them were any indicator.

"You are coming with me."

This dragged y/n back into reality as she realized that she has been creepily staring at him. However, she did not have the time to feel embarassed as she noticed his slightly loose hold on her arms as an opening to her escape. With a quick move that the male did not see coming, y/n threw a punch to the strangers nose. This caused his hold on her to loosen completely and so, y/n gathered all her remaining strength and shot to the sky.

From above, she started searching for any clues as to where she might be. This site looks nothing like Velaris or even the Night Court. Open grassy fields, lakes, mountains...what is this place? not even the Spring court was this beautiful. Definetly not the other courts either. Maybe the mortal lands? But no, the male who threatened her was a fae. Definetly not Hybern either. Well, she has never been to Hybern, especially not after the war, but still, y/n did not imagine for that place to look this breathtaking.

Y/n's wings started slowing down as she realized how tired she was and that is when she spotted a small open area in the middle of a forest and decided to land there. The stranger is a good distance away so getting some rest and then exploring some more is the only good plan.

But before she could even sit down for a second, a giant white wolf leapt on her and pinned her to the ground, baring its teeth to her with a low growl. Y/n knew then and there that this was it, that she was about to be killed by this beast when suddenly, she got blinded by a bright light and the next thing she knew, the white beast was replaced by that stranger from before. He left her no time to ask questions or fight him back as his skillfull hands did a quick work of chaining her arms to his belt.

"You think that just because you have wings you can escape me? Get up." The stranger said, as he stood up from his position over her body.

Y/n bared her teeth at him before she replied, "Unchain me, I am not going anywhere with you."

The male, still looking down at her, only said, "Now."

"How did you find me? I thought my punch would have made you go home crying."

He gave her a cruel smirk as he said, "The next time you try to punch someone, try to aim properly."

"I was panicked! I did not care where I aimed as long as it got me far away from you!"

His face became cold and hardened again as he said, "Get up. This will be the last time I say it."

When y/n refused to oblige, she saw him turn around and start walking but before she could yell after him to unchain her, she was being dragged through the grassy ground by the chain. He was dragging her? He was dragging her!

"Hey! what are you doing?!"

He ignored her.

"Stop! your'e hurting me!"

He ignored her

"My wings! They will rip apart if you keep this up!"

He ignored her.

"You bastard! You are dragging me through the ground, stop!"

He kept on ignoring her.

With no options left, y/n sighed and shouted, "Fine! I will follow you, but please stop for a moment the back of my shirt is about to rip open! I will get up and follow you!"

At that, he stopped and turned around, still looking expectantly at her with cold, unflinching eyes that made her shiver.

To say y/n was furious, would be an understatement; however, looking at him made her realize something. She would rather die than admit it but y/n found it very impressive (and attractive) how he could walk so casually while dragging her weight with the chain linked to his body. Not wanting to gather all the dirt on the ground, y/n got up to her feet and started hesitantly following him.

As they kept walking, y/n decided to get some information out of her captor that could potentially be helpful when she escapes. So, changing her expression to the most indifferent and nonchalant one like she was trained to do, y/n asked the male, "What is this place?"

The male did not look back as he replied, "Don't act so foolishly by asking me such a meaningless question."

"I am not being foolish, I have no clue as to where am I and what this place is."

When she saw how the stranger scoffed but said nothing, y/n knew that she had to use a different strategy and so, she stayed silent because she knew she could not trust this male to tell him anything about where she comes from and it seemed he wouldn't tell her anything either. So her next best plan would be to wait and see where he takes her. But as if curiosity got the best of her, y/n asked, "What is your name?"

"That does not concern you."

"So I am to call you stranger then? As you wish stranger."

He sighed but then said, "Fenrys, call me Fenrys."

Fenrys. Such a unique name and yet, something about it felt so comforting that as y/n tested out his name on her tounge silently, she could not help but feel as if the name had something that made it feel special to her. And maybe it was that momentary comfort that made her slip up and reveal her name to him.

"My name is Y/n"

Fenrys did not turn around but she saw just a slight nod of his head in acknowledgment and that was enough.

When they reached the clearing of the forest, Fenrys turned around and told her, "Come closer to me."

"Why, I don-"

"Do not waste my time. You are a captive here so do as I say and come closer to me."

Y/n hesitantly came closer as Fenrys held out his hand. When she gave him a questioning look, he sighed and said, "Trust me, I won't kill you, atleast not until my queen commands me to."

Y/n took his hand, gave him a puzzling look and asked, "Your queen? Is she one of the mortal queens? There is no fae queen in Pryth-"

She did not get to finish her sentence as suddenly y/n felt this strong yet comforting power course around them. That is when she realized that Fenrys was winnowing them.

One second y/n was clinging to his arms as he winnowed them, and the next she was standing in the center of what looked like a large palace room. White, gold and hints of silver with green were everywhere, from the tall pillars to the designs on the ceiling. Everywhere she looked was a masterpiece, even the small but comfortable lounge chairs had green intricate designs on them. The large windows brought in the sunlight that made the room look very heavenly and peaceful. There was also a medium sized flag that carried the image of a white stag with a crown on its head hanging from the large window in the back. Y/n guessed it to be their house crest.

But, the fae in the room were what brought y/n back from her daydream. There were four of them. Sitting on one of the lounge chairs, was a a stunning female with pale skin, long voluminous brown hair that cascaded down her back and eyes of the most beautiful shade of green ever. Standing next to her, was a very tall, tan and muscled male with long blond hair and blue eyes. Then, right infront of y/n, in the center of the room, was a handsome, tan male with silver hair that was cut short to his scalp, emerald green eyes and broad shoulder's that made him look dominating. But what caught her attention the most, was the tattoo that started from his left temple and continued all the way through his throat where it disappeared under his clothes. Finally, next to him was a beautiful female with long blond locks and eyes that seem to be the brightest shade of blue. In fact, it seems like this female and the other male are twins or atleast related because they are the spitting image of one another.

The brown haired female spoke first, "Took you long enough."

Fenrys sighed and replied with, "She was not easy to catch."

The blond female gave a cool assesing stare at y/n and especially at her wings before asking, "What part of Erilea are you from?"

"What? I know of no such place."

"Do you consider us to be fools?"

This question came from the blonde haired male who was now stalking closer to her.

"Do I look like one? I do not know who you are, let alone where I am!"

Y/n suddenly felt as if all the air was drained out of her body which caused her to fall on her knees. She was suffocating, she could not think or say anything but choke and gasp for air. Just when she felt like dying, the air returned back to her body. Y/n, still in shock, did not care about her image as she kept kneeling on the ground and greedily inhaling air while still coughing.

That is when she felt a pair of arms hold her by her waist as she tried to get up again. The comforting scent of vanilla and sandalwood hit her nose and as she turned her head sideways...Fenrys was the one holding her and even though he was't looking at her, she could feel from his tight grip on her waist how unnerved he was.

"Let this be a warning for you if you lie again." That cold voice brought her back to reality as Fenrys let go of y/n, still staying behind her, and she turned around to see the silver haired male now standing before the blond female, protecting her.

The female pushed past him and came closer to y/n and asked her, although slightly less aggressively than before, "Who sent you here? Who do you work for?"

At that moment, y/n felt all sorts of emotions. Disbelief, confusion, frustration but most importantly, anger. Who do they think they are? Judging her like she came here on purpose. Trying to kill her with their...impressive powers. Since when does Prythian have fae who can take the air of of your body?

With a frustrated sigh, she says, "I do not know what this place is OR who you are. I know of no place named Eri-what was it? I come from the Night Court in Prythian so either you are the ones acting like fools or you simply have lost your minds because to think that I would come here of my own will? I mean, have you seen what I am wearing? This certainly does not look like something I would wear if I were to be sent off on a mission."

"You have wings. No one in Erilea has ever had wings before. At least not anyone we know."

Y/n was slightly startled when she heard the voice from behind her, sounding too close for her comfort. The green eyed female was no longer on her lounge chair but right behind y/n, as if preparing to attack her should y/n attempt something.

A gasp made y/n turn her head back around to see what was going on. The blond female was looking at her with wide eyes and then at the silver haired male beside her. They stared like that at one another, which made y/n believe that they were conversing mentally. The males eyes widened for a split second before he turned his head at her and asked, "Where did you say you were from?"

"Night Court in Prythian. Why?"

The blond female looked at her look alike, then at the green eyed female and lastly, at Fenrys who was behind y/n as well. Then, with a slightly shaky voice, she asked no one in particular, "The Wyrdgates. Could it be? Is it possible?"

The other blond one says, "No, you closed it. It can't be."

At that, the room grew silent as some sort of an unnerving tension fell over everyone. Confused and annoyed, y/n asked, "What is that? Where am I? I don't understand. Explain. Now."

The brown hair female came around to face y/n as she said, "We don't know what Prythian is. There is no place named the Night Court in here."

Seeing y/n's shocked yet confused face, it was Fenrys who spoke up, "Do you remember how you ended up here?"

Y/n started recounting what happened more to herself than to anyone else, "I had an argument with Azriel, then the voice led me to the House of Wind and then...the book of Breathings. Oh Mother above." Realization dawned upon her as she realized that she had just ended up in a completely different world.

"Well, we will pretend like we understood what you just said." The blond male said which earned him a glare from his look a like.

The blue eyed female sighed as she looked at everyone and then said to y/n, "We...we need to have a talk. There is a lot that you need to be told and a lot that you need to tell us."

"I-I am not telling you anything. You can torture me all you like but you won't get any information out of me."

"You need to. We need to know if what we believe is happening is true." The silver haired male speaks as he slowly motions for everyone else to spread around and sort of cage her in the room.

But y/n wasn't hearing anyone as her mind went completely silent and all she heard were murmurs as she felt like she was underwater. She started pacing around as her eyes were wide with disbelief, "T-th-that stupid book....Oh Cauldron boil me...I-I...home..need to g-"

"Keep your eyes on her." Silver hair says.

Y/n did not see how around her, everyone was just as shocked by her. How they were watching her every move, ready to attack her if she dares to try something. She did not care because she felt like she was hyperventilating, loosing her mind.

"Aedion call a heale-"

The only thing she saw was Fenrys's concerned face reaching out to hold her as she descended into darkness.

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

Taglist: @ladespedidas @mis-lil-red @going-through-shit @kaitttttttt @blackgirlmagicforever

[lebbys-world]

I was wondering if request based of the manga base on chapters 365 -406 like you know how bakugou is currently severely injured in manga /anime instead of bakugou almost dying it’s the reader who takes all the hits blow for him when fighting shigaraki crushing reader arm and taking major brutal blow to chest to protect bakugou and since reader she cares about him aslo maybe reader quirk could be like somewhat similar to scarlet witch mcu or raven from teen titans but whichever you prefer maybe when fighting Shigaraki since reader was using her quirk to full strength potential maybe her powers it started corrupted her due over usage making Shigaraki have the upper hand i hope this makes sense can the ending have fluff and angst type fic if this ok i hope this requests is ok makes sense if uncomfortable with i can definitely change it

To Be a Hero

Bakugo x gn!reader; mentions of injury, battle, self-sacrifice, self-deprecation/insecurities, end of the war arc, angst to comfort

notes: thank you sm for the request, and thanks sm for your patience !! everything has been crazy rn for me because of college. i love bakugos character sm, especially just his development, so i hope this does him a bit of justice.

You’d never felt the world sting so harshly before.

The very air around you tore at your skin, debris scattered around, making quick lacerations. 

You’d come into this battle no more than an ambitious child, striving to save those you could.

But now?

You’d seen more blood than you’d ever thought you would.

The smell of death was burned into your very existence. 

It made you nauseous.

You just wanted this all to be over.

Yet, here you stood, center of the battlefield, watching as Shigaraki tore to pieces the life you once loved.

For the first time in years, you didn’t feel like a hero.

Your body stood frozen, watching as those around you fought with everything they had.

Why can’t I help them? You beg of yourself.

Those you love are risking their lives- losing their lives.

But your body has had enough.

Too much has poured out from every aching wound on your body.

Your head pounds, both reminding you of the physical pain and your mental inability to process the situation at hand.

Maybe you weren’t meant to be a hero, after all.

Above, an array of light drew your eyes.

You see Bakugo, battered, bloodied- the damn bastard barely even able to stand.

He’s flying through the air, putting himself straight in the middle of the action.

He was always that way.

You admired that about him- his sense of selflessness when it really mattered.

He wanted to be the best, and he sure had a chance at it.

Yet, you realize what’s happening before you even can properly see it.

He’s diving in, head-first, straight towards the same Shigaraki that killed so many of the Pro-Heros. 

He may want to be the best, but he isn't the best yet.

That same selflessness you loved was the selflessness that was going to get him killed.

He wasn’t going to land the shot. 

You lurched off the ground, your feet moving without you even telling them to.

You positioned yourself perfectly, feeling the impact hit you like a warm embrace.

You smile to yourself:

Now, they’ve got another chance.

The world spun for a moment, as your hearing dulled. 

That crash onto the ground must’ve really taken a toll on you.

Either that, or, maybe the gaping hole in your chest.

You gaze into the blurry sky, letting the gray clouds turn black in your vision.

From a distance, you think you can hear a familiar voice screaming your name.

The world goes away before you put a name to that familiarity.

. . .

You awake to the sound of patterned beeps, the scent of sterilizing products hitting your nose quickly after.

As you open your eyes, the bright, fluorescent light forces you to close them again, hesitantly getting yourself out of your slumber. 

The rustling of your sheets alerted the blonde sitting in the chair beside you, urging him to get up at once.

He looked at you gently, as though you were more fragile than glass.

The guilt he felt practically ran through him.

Why did you step in like that, Y/N.

They barely kept you alive on the battlefield.

And every surgery you’d had kept him on edge.

He’d lost so much, already.

He couldn’t lose you, too.

You opened your eyes enough to glance at the face in front of you, mumbling the familiar name:

“...Katsuki?”

“Oi, looks like someone’s finally awake.” 

His usual demeanor seemed softer, almost as if he didn’t want to overwhelm you.

“..where are we?”

“-hospital. You’ve been in here since you pulled that stupid stunt of yours.”

You looked at him silently, processing the fact that you even made it out of that alive.

Last you recall, the world had fallen dark.

You’d really accepted dying in that moment.

Yet, God had other plans it seems, since here you were, alive and, mostly, well.

You couldn’t quite believe it, but seeing the boy in front of you, you were grateful.

“Snap out of it” Bakugo hissed at you, rolling his eyes. 

He thought to himself for a moment, before putting his head in his hands.

“Damn it, Y/N, don’t do that ever again.”

“...do what?” You respond, still in a daze.

"..."

“Trying to get yourself killed like that.” 

You looked at him, as you took in his words,

“Don't step in the way for me, you idiot. It might get ya hurt, or worse, don’tcha see?”

“I didn’t try to.” You explained, slightly shifting in your hospital bed to fully face him.

His demeanor had changed from his usual self, and was instead filled with disdain. 

He’d be tearing himself apart over this - that much, you figured.

“My feet ‘moved on their own’” you smiled, repeating the words so often uttered around class.

He scoffed, shaking his head, before putting your hand in his. 

He smiled at you wholly, 

“I guess that makes you a real hero then, huh?”

"..."

“I guess so.”

all fictional works are for entertainment purposes only. all rights to characters, media, references, and other third party materials belong to their respective owners. do not repurpose, modify, copy, or repost my work to other sites without permission. © @lebbys-world 2024.

banners from saradika-graphics

[blossom-hwa]

after the ashes | c.sc

pairing: Seungcheol x gender neutral!reader genre: angst, hurt and comfort, king!seungcheol, nobility!reader warnings: war mentions, violence word count: 2.4k notes: — couldn't really stop thinking about coups as a royal so this happened! blame ursa :) — just a warning that pov shifts quite rapidly sometimes, I hope it isn't too confusing Seungcheol comes back from the war changed, and a little broken.

Seventeen Masterlist

The night after Seungcheol's formal coronation, he slips past his guards and leaves his room. No one speaks to him. No one stops him. Two guards simply fall into line as he steps into the hall, silent shadows trailing his footsteps. He is the king now, after all—it isn't anyone's place to question what he does. 

(He has worn the crown in all but actuality for five years, but for some reason, when they placed the circlet of gold upon his brow today, he had never felt more like an impostor.)

The dark walls of the palace are almost exactly how he remembers them. Seungcheol traces his fingers lightly against the stone, feeling the weathering and cracks beneath his skin. Everything is the same. He knows where to find it all. He hasn't been in the palace for five years and he could give anyone explicit directions to the kitchens, to the guest quarters, to the gardens where he used to hide as a child whenever he was upset. Here he is three, playing in the nursery. He is ten, learning to hold his first sword. He is fourteen, pulling his hair out in the library, eighteen, sitting in his first council meeting, and twenty-one, receiving the news that his brother is dead.

He passes the king's office (his office, his and not his) and suddenly he is twenty-three, watching his father die in front of him again and again.

Bile rises in his throat. The assassin is dead. The war has been won. It doesn't change the fact that Seungcheol watched someone slit his father's throat in front of him. It doesn't change the fact that he hasn't seen home in over five years. 

(For five years this palace has stayed the same, and everything about it feels so wrong.)

No one says anything when he pauses. No one says anything when he reaches out to the door. No one says anything when his fingers graze the door handle, then draw back as though they touched fire. 

No one says anything when he drops his hand and moves on.

Dully, vaguely, Seungcheol walks the palace halls in the night. Torches burn in sconces on the walls and moonlight glows pale through the curtained windows but he doesn't really see anything, rather moves across the stone floors in a blurry haze. He could find his way through the palace blindfolded. He doesn't need to see. Doesn't need to breathe. 

(I don't want this I don't want this I don't want this I don't want this)

He took the crown off his head before leaving the room, carefully locked it in its gilded case as he stumbled out of the king's quarters, barely breathing. He still wears the long cloak, pinned to his shoulders, cascading down his back—still wears all the regalia from earlier today, silk and jewels and gold bullion weighing down his body. He had dismissed all of his aides and servants the moment he entered his quarters (His quarters? His father's quarters?) and couldn't find the energy to take it all off himself. 

Seungcheol pauses in front of a portrait he knows well. His father, sitting on his throne, his mother and brother posed around him. He hadn't been born yet. He wasn't even expected. He was the miracle second child, never meant to be born yet cherished, who was never intended for the throne. 

But then, fate does love to toy with the lives of those one holds most dear. 

The portrait hangs almost above Seungcheol's head. He touches the gilded frame. Dust comes away on his fingers and he stares at it numbly, gray in the moonlight, like his father's ashes as his body burned on the pyre. 

His brother is dead. An accident while riding. His father is dead. A very quick assassin. His mother lives, but she has changed. Her family has been decimated, and the second son who wasn't meant for this life will never be enough to bring back her spirit. 

He looks at the portrait again and starts running down the hall. 

The guards cry out and make chase. Seungcheol can hear their footsteps pounding on the stone floor. He himself is weighed down by the silks and satins and jewels of today but he is strong and he is fast and he knows the palace better than almost anyone so he sprints through corridors and winds through doors, hurtling through time and space until—

"Seungcheol?"

You look like a ghost, standing in the middle of the hall with moonlight pouring over you. This vision almost gives him vertigo—dressed in a plain shirt and pants, just a thin leather belt tied around your waist for decoration, you look so simple. So normal. Like the sun was out, and you could head out riding together in just a few minutes. Like old times. Like more than five years ago. 

In turn, you stare at Seungcheol. In the faint moonlight spilling from the window, he looks haggard, pale. The huge ceremonial cloak that had made him so majestic earlier today swallows him now, swaths of deep red completely shadowing his figure. He looks so—so small. So tired. So lost in this place he once called home. 

"Seungcheol." You take a step forward, slowly, quietly. The strong man you saw earlier at the coronation, who, draped in the medals and regalia of a true hero, promised the kingdom that they would move forward from this war and prosper in the name of his deceased father and brother, has disappeared under the mass of rich fabric and jewels. Still, you know that the broad shouldered man who loved you is still there, hidden under the riches. "What happened?"

Seungcheol shifts. It isn't just your voice that compels him to move. It's what you called him—Seungcheol. Not Your Majesty. Not even Your Highness. Just him. His name. Nothing more, nothing less. 

His voice cracks on your name. "Y/N?"

You're close enough now to gather him in a hug. Instead, though, you place a tentative hand on his shoulder, where his long cloak meets the ceremonial shirt. You try not to think about how much the fabric looks like blood. "What happened?" you ask again, even softer this time. 

Seungcheol stares at you. Why are you doing this? Why are you here? Why are you talking to him like you still care for him, like you still love him, even though he was the one who ended things a month after his father's death because he was about to march off to war and wanted you to move on, because he was broken, because he was nothing, because he didn't want to leave you widowed so soon after marriage? 

He saw you in the crowd at the coronation. You were beautiful, resplendent in the colors of the kingdom, but he could only see your muted eyes, your hollow cheeks, a visible reminder of everything he lost in this war. He lost his father. He lost himself. He lost you. 

Looking at Seungcheol, you feel the tears you held back for years now rising to the surface. You were heartbroken when he ended your relationship. You didn't care that both of you were setting off to war. You didn't care that he might die and leave you alone—hell, you might have done the same to him. You didn't care that there would be no ceremony, that it would be a simple exchange of rings and signatures in the throne room of the palace—you didn't care. You just wanted him. Seungcheol. The man you loved, currently love, and will forever love. 

The man you would have loved to the death. 

You wanted to cry, but you didn't. Because to cry would be to mourn what you two had, as though you would never have it back. Throughout the war, five years of bloodshed and death, you refused to cry, clinging to the bare hope that you would both live, that you would both survive, that you would one day find Seungcheol again and build back what you once had. 

Once, you were steady. Sure-footed. Certain of every step you took, everywhere that you went. Now, though, Seungcheol sees a wariness to your step, favoring one leg over another even as you stand before him, one gentle hand on his shoulder. You fought in the war, he remembers. Wielded your own sword in the name of your family's honor until someone shattered your leg and you were sent back home to recover what mobility you could.

(He never stopped checking on you, not once through the five years. There was not enough manpower to devote any single person to report solely on your movements, but he did demand that if there was news of you, he was to be informed as soon as possible. The day he learned of your injury, the world seemed to turn dark. Blurry. Gray. He couldn't shake it off, even when he learned that you had survived.) 

But there is still a surety in your gaze that reminds him of before, echoes of the person you once were. In this moment where Seungcheol has no idea who he is anymore, he latches onto that memory. The piece of you that he still knows. 

"Why?" he whispers. 

You cock your head, a habit you had even as child. "Why what?"

"Why are you here?"

Why are you here? Because your family is close enough to Seungcheol's that you were invited to stay at the palace during the coronation festivities. Because you can't sleep anymore, plagued by memories of what you saw on the battlefield and residual pains in your leg, and so you've taken to wandering the halls of wherever you happen to be at night. But you get the feeling that this isn't what he is asking, and these aren’t the answers he seeks.

"Because I love you," you say quietly. "I loved you then. I loved you during the war. I love you now." You swallow the tears back. "I have always loved you, and I always will."

Seungcheol's head hurts. You're not making sense. "But I—but I left," he whispers. "I left you, and—I'm not—you don't love me anymore." He's going to cry. He's going to cry like a damn idiot. A weak idiot. But you don't shirk away even for a moment. He has half a mind to turn away in shame but your hand won't let him. 

"You can't love me," he chokes out finally. "I'm not who I was before. I'm—I'm broken." He takes a deep breath. "You shouldn't love me. Not like this."

You lift the hand from his shoulder. Seungcheol braces himself for you to walk away. But instead, you pull him to you with so much force that your leg gives out beneath you and the two of you tumble to the floor. 

"Choi Seungcheol," you murmur into his ear, arms embracing him tightly, "since when have I ever allowed you to make decisions for me?"

He almost laughs. Never, he wants to say. Never, not once.

"I am not who I once was," you tell him. "I am not the same person I was five years ago. But even without the war, I would have been different anyway." You pull back enough to look into his eyes again. "You are still you, Seungcheol. Broken or whole, it doesn't matter. And for as long as you need, I will help you pick up the pieces. Help you stitch yourself back together." You kiss his forehead. "Because you would do the same for me."

Seungcheol gulps. "But I left you," he whispers. 

"And I'm not letting you off the hook for that so easily," you reply, a pinch of humor hidden in your voice. "But it doesn't matter, because you found me again."

He shakes his head. "No, you found me first."

"And do you plan on letting me go again?"

The answer is as plain as day. No. Never.

"So it doesn't matter," you murmur. "Because I'm not letting you go, either."

His tears finally begin to fall. 

You hold him as he cries, tears of your own soaking the rich fabric of his cloak. He's shaking and you're trembling just as hard, but nothing in the world could make you give up this moment, when you have Seungcheol and he has you, when you can finally hold him and know that he is yours. 

Seungcheol clenches his eyes shut against the memories that flood through his brain. His father falling dead to the ground. His knife plunging into the assassin's chest. Bloody swords clanging on the battlefield, entire villages burning as he and his men tried to get everyone out that they could. These visions haunt his nightmares and privately, in the deepest recesses of his soul, Seungcheol fears that they will never go away. 

But he feels your arms wrapped tight around him, around the shoulders that tremble, around the chest that heaves, and he reminds himself that you are still here. That you stayed even though he left, and waited patiently for him to return. That while everything about his home now feels so terribly wrong, you are one thing that has always felt right.

"I'm sorry," he whispers when most of the tears are gone and your shirt has been soaked through. 

"What ever for?" you ask. 

"It shouldn't just be me," he mumbles. "I should be taking care of you, too."

Your answer is soft, quiet, yet every word burns itself into his mind with the sharpest clarity. 

"But you need me now."

He swallows. "I'm afraid," he admits quietly. "I'm afraid that this isn't real, and I'm going to open my eyes and you won't be there anymore."

Your heart shatters on the floor when you hear those words, but you keep your voice steady. "Do you trust me?" you ask. 

The answer is immediate. "Always."

"Then look up."

Slowly, slowly, Seungcheol's eyes open. You stare back at him, retracing every line of his features that you memorized before the war, every piece of him that haunted your dreams and kept you sane in the five years since.

"I'm here, Seungcheol," you whisper. "I'm always here." You kiss him softly. "And I am never going to let you go."

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)

[olive-main]

I want a 1930s/40s Bucky x reader fic. Maybe bucky survives his fall but is sent home because he definitely shouldn’t be serving for a while and reader and bucky just living together and being in love and *screaming sounds*

Scars and All

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After Bucky’s fall readjusting to life had been a difficult task— but not impossible with his Doll by his side.

Wc: 1.7k

A/N: I loved this request so much bcs I love Bucky so much <3 A bit angsty at first but then it turns into tooth rotting fluff. Also this is kinda not edited? And don’t mind how I keep changing my pov in each fic…I’m still finding which one I prefer writing in :’)

——

The bustling streets of Brooklyn were a strange symphony you had grown accustomed to, a rhythm that melted with the laughter of children playing stickball and the cries of vendors shouting about everything from fresh bagels to bundles of fruits. You stood by the open window, a warm breeze carrying in the scent of the city, and watched as Bucky made his way down the sidewalk, his hat pulled low over his eyes, a half-smile playing at his lips. It was a smile you hadn’t seen nearly enough of since he returned, but on the rare occasion it did come, it was something you committed to memory.

It had been six months since Bucky was sent home. Six months since the army had delivered him back to Brooklyn, battered but alive. The day he’d returned, you had hardly recognized him. His face had been a map of new scars, his body thinner, his eyes dimmed with shadows. The Bucky you knew had always been the strongest person in the room. Seeing him broken, a man cracked open and laid bare by what he’d been through, had shattered something inside you too.

But somehow, you had found a way to put each other back together. Or at least you were trying.

You turned away from the window, busying yourself with folding laundry, but you couldn’t stop your thoughts from wandering. You had gotten used to the way Bucky sometimes flinched at loud noises or went quiet when he thought no one was looking, how he would wake up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat, trembling and gasping like he was back on that godforsaken train. You had learned to navigate those moments, to hold him until the fear subsided, even when he refused to talk about it, even when he pulled away and wouldn’t meet your eyes.

The front door creaked open, and Bucky stepped inside, his hat in hand, his hair tousled by the wind. He paused for a moment, as if he needed to remind himself that this was real—that you were real, and this home was his sanctuary. Your heart clenched at the way he stood there, lost in thought.

“Bucky?” you called softly, your voice gentle.

He blinked, his blue eyes finding yours, and a slow smile spread across his lips. It was the kind of smile that had once come so easily to him, but now it felt forced every time you saw it. He crossed the room in a few quick strides, setting the paper bag of groceries on the table before wrapping his arms around you. His embrace was warm, his fingers digging in like he was afraid you might slip through his grasp.

You held him just as fiercely. “I missed you,” you whispered. He may have been gone for only a couple hours, but every moment spent away from him felt like an eternity.

Bucky let out a breath. “Missed you more Doll” he murmured, pressing his lips to your hair. His voice sounded almost desperate, the weight of his words heavy with something unsaid.

“I’m right here,” you assured him, running your fingers through his short hair. It wasn’t as long as it had been before the war, but it had started to grow back, thick and dark. Sometimes, he complained about the way the army had sheared it off, how he didn’t feel like himself anymore, how he couldn’t even recognize the man in the mirror.

You pulled back slightly to look at him, and that’s when you saw it—the haunted look behind his eyes, like he was caught between the present and some far-off memory that you couldn’t reach. His jaw clenched, and for a second, he looked like he might crumble.

“Bucky,” you said, your voice breaking. You cradled his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing over the rough stubble along his jaw. “Talk to me.”

He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. “Sometimes,” he started, his voice hoarse, “I can’t believe I’m really here. That I made it back.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “And sometimes I wish I hadn’t.”

The confession hit you like a punch to the gut, and your vision blurred with tears. You knew he was struggling, but hearing him admit it out loud felt like a knife twisting in your chest. “Don’t say that,” you pleaded, your fingers trembling as they held onto him. “Please, don’t.”

Bucky’s eyes opened, and the pain you saw there was unbearable. “I don’t mean it,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Not when I’m with you. You’re the only thing that makes it worth it. But the nightmares… the fear… it’s like it never lets go.”

You pulled him into your arms, holding him like you could shield him from everything that haunted him. “We’ll get through it,” you promised, your voice thick with emotion. “We’ll get through it together, Bucky. I’m not going anywhere.”

He buried his face in your shoulder, and for a moment, the strong, indestructible Bucky Barnes you had once known was gone, replaced by a man who was desperately trying to hold himself together. You could feel the way his body shook with silent sobs, and you knew it was a rare and fragile moment of vulnerability, one that he’d never let anyone else see.

All you could do was hold him tighter, hoping that your love was enough to keep the darkness at bay, even if just for a little while.

——

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, holding Bucky as he unraveled in your arms. The silence between you was thick, broken only by the occasional sound of traffic outside or the laughter of kids echoing through the street. But eventually, his grip on you loosened, and he pulled back, his eyes red but no longer clouded by the same hopelessness.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, wiping at his cheeks with the back of his hand. “Didn’t mean to fall apart on you like that.”

You shook your head, gently catching his hand in yours before he could hide his emotions. “Don’t apologize,” you whispered. “You don’t ever have to be sorry for how you feel.” You gave his fingers a squeeze, feeling the roughness of his calluses, a reminder of the walls he had to build up around him.

He looked at you for a long moment, something softening in his gaze. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, you know that?” His voice had that familiar warmth, a hint of the old Bucky, the one who could charm his way out of trouble with an easy smile and a few sweet words.

You grinned, leaning up to press a kiss to the tip of his nose, which made him scrunch up his face in mock protest. “Oh, you’re a handful,” you teased. “But I wouldn’t trade you for anything in the world, James Bucky Barnes. Not even when you leave your muddy boots all over the floor.”

He laughed—a real, genuine laugh—and it was like a glimpse of light breaking through the storm clouds. “Hey, now,” he protested, a playful glint returning to his blue eyes. “I was going to clean those up. Eventually.”

“Sure, you were,” you shot back, and before you knew it, he was pulling you in closer, his hands resting on your hips as he buried his face in your neck. He tickled you with his scruffy chin, making you squeal and squirm.

“Stop it!” you laughed, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. “Bucky, that’s not fair!”

“All’s fair in love and war,” he teased, but his voice was full of affection, and the tension from earlier seemed to melt away.

You finally managed to escape his tickling, grabbing a dish towel from the table and playfully swatting at him. “Go on, then, soldier. Put away those groceries before they spoil. That’s an order.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin wide. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, the old spark of mischief dancing in his eyes. But instead of obeying right away, he leaned in and stole a kiss, soft and sweet, the kind that made your heart do a silly little flip.

You roll your eyes in annoyance , but your smile betrayed you.

Bucky’s laughter was what home sounded like, and for a moment, you could almost forget the shadows that still lingered. Because right now, in your tiny, cluttered Brooklyn apartment, he was here. You were here. And every little piece of happiness you carved out together felt like a victory.

As Bucky turned to finally unpack the groceries, he glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, and by the way Doll,” he said, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the excitement in his voice, “I picked up something special.”

Your curiosity piqued, and you stepped forward to peer into the paper bag. Inside, you found a small bouquet of flowers—lilies, the ones you loved most—and a bottle of your favorite wine.

“Bucky,” you said, your throat tightening with emotion. “You didn’t have to…”

He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping this small act of love could reflect a fraction of what he truly felt for you. “I know,” he said, his voice softer now. “But I wanted to. I wanted you to know how special you are to me.”

You set the flowers down on the table and wrapped your arms around his waist, holding him close. “You’re my something special,” you whispered, and you felt the way his breath hitched, how he melted into your embrace.

For the rest of the afternoon, the two of you danced around each other, cooking a simple but perfect meal together, laughing when Bucky burned the garlic bread and insisted it was still “edible.” When the sun dipped below the horizon, you dimmed the lights, put on the new record, and danced slowly in the living room, the music crackling through the old speaker.

Bucky’s arms circled around you, pulling you in close. “You know,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours, “I think I’m the luckiest man in the world. Scars and all.”

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your love for practically radiating off you. “And I love every single part of you,” you said, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Scars and all.”

Wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the warmth and light you had built together, one piece at a time.

——

Constructive criticism and feedback always welcome. Thank you beauties ~ <3

[ricegobbler]

TFP CONS X FEM!CON READER HCS! PT.1

ok ngl I did this bc I’m bored. I might open requests, but idk yet bc I’m always busy. So I’m NOT opening any requests atm but I may soon!! I also didn’t do all the cons in this bc I’m so tired. So I’ll do the rest of them maybe tmrw.

Ok anyways this might be a lil bad since it’s my first time :( but enjoy either way!

Also I’m using ‘Y/N’ bc idk what else to use even tho I think I’m supposed to use it.

Warnings‼���: Mention of fighting(s), injuries, drugs (calling Megatron the druglord basically) slightly suggestive (mainly for Megatron and kinda for Knockout?)

(Megatron, Starscream, and Knockout)

—————————————————

Megatron:

-Ah yes, our favorite drug lord☺️

-When he first saw you he thought of you as any other Decepticon on the Nemesis, a weakling basically.

-Every time he’d see you he wouldn’t really think much or care honestly, like I said, you were treated and thought of like any other Decepticon by the warlord. So the two of you wouldn’t rlly interact.

-But then, the first time you fought the Autobots in front of Megatron really changed his perspective of you. Yes, you still weren’t that special out of everyone else, but you did cause something special in his spark.

-After the battle, slamming Bulkhead into the ground, Megatron actually said something to you. Praising you for your strength and courage.

“I’m quite impressed, Y/N..” Megatron praised you, arms behind his back as he circled around you. “A fem with that much strength and power is quite…alluring~”

Your optics widened, feeling a bit of a shiver run up (or go down) your back. “A-alluring?…” You repeat, “Yes…very alluring..” he responded back, he then stood behind you and placed a servo on your shoulder, gripping it a little tightly.

“I’m quite glad to have you on our side~ you’ll be very useful….” He whispered into your audial.

-After that day he started treating you differently. Definitely favorite treatment. He wouldn’t get mad at you for your fails and would just brush it off, leaving the others (Starscream and Knockout) jaw dropped.

-Sometimes Megatron would com you to see him, privately. Whenever this happens the only thing that ever happens is some little conversation. Sometimes they’d be about the war, but mostly about each other and stories of both of your lives before the war. Sometimes he’d just praise you too tho, not that you minded though, praises from him were just 🙏

-I feel like he’d fall for some strong fem. Of course, he’d still be stronger. But he would love your strength, courage, wisdom and seriousness, and sometimes he’d get a little…riled up at the height difference between the two of you.

-When he finally confessed feelings for you (he wrote a poem and recited it to you💔🥹) you were treated WAYYY differently. Being called “my queen” or “my dear,” and he would fucking force the others to call you their queen.

-how he kisses?? Passionate. He’s so rough and touchy while kissing too omfg. PDA?? Hell yeah. He don’t gaf abt who’s around, he’d grab your waist in front of everyone and whisper the most…innocent..things to you!☺️

Starscream:

-Our favorite high heel cunt!😝

-Just like Megatron, I feel like he wouldn’t really care about your presence, BUT, he would definitely talk to you about how everything goes in the Nemesis. While doing so I feel like he’d trail off and start talkin abt overthrowing Megatron💀

“-And then I get to overthrow that scrap of a warlord! YES! I will offline him soon and..” He paused and slowly turned his head to look at you, you just blinked confusingly and cleared your throat awkwardly.

“Are you alright..?” You ask, “I’m fine. Moving on!..” he responded.

-Yeah. Anyways.

-When he first saw your skills against Autobots, he was surprised. He’s never seen a fem do that much damage. Of course, he doesn’t say anything about it. He’s pretty quick to brush it off anyways.

-Sometimes he’d just fucking burst in your berthroom and tell you orders. Why? Bc he’s SIC ig😒

Starscream bursting into your berthroom, “Y/N!” You quickly turn your helm to look at him. “Huh”

“As your second in command I order you to do [whatever idk]!” He yelled, hands on his waist and everything.🤦🏻‍♀️

-But the more you two interact the more he realizes he doesn’t mind you being around. He seems more comfortable with you. How would you know? He’d rant to you about how he’d make you his SIC once he overthrows Megatron😭

-Then he finally falls for you. I honestly see him being hella nervous around you but tried showing off to you. One time he tried showing off he could take on Megatron, next thing you know you brought him to the Medbay-

-the way he’d confessed would be so sweet but funny too istg.

“Y/N…I..I’ve fallen for you.” He said, “you what?..” you asked, he quickly stood up, transforming into his alt and flew through the halls of the Nemesis while yelling back “I LOVE YOUUUU..!”

-After that little fail you found him in his berth in the corner like he was in time out and you just giggled. You gently rubbed his back and smiled. You also told him you fell for him and his wings fluttered.

-He’s quite silly, and you loved that. Secretly in his berthroom you’d praise him and cuddle with him (he rlly needs it🙁) he’d call you names like “my spark” or “love.” PDA?? Yes, but not in public. Sure, he’ll hold your hand sometimes in public, but in the Berth is the best place. How he kisses? Amazing. Not as suggestive as Megatron, but they’re so sweet. Soft kisses<33

Knockout:

-The best flirtatious man ever😍

-He heard about your arrival from the rumors around the Nemesis, at first he was actually intrigued. He wanted to know what you looked like and what your personality was.

-Everyday he’d wait for you to come to the Medbay if you had any injuries. Of course, you didn’t. So what a shame 😢

-But he’d hear any new thing about you from either Starscream or the rumors around.

-But when the day of you fighting the Autobots for the first time he was finally able to see you in the Medbay to treat some wounds you had gotten.

You, covered in wounds, entering the Medbay for the first time and meeting optics with Knockout. “My my my….you’re the new fem, hm? Nice to meet you Y/N, the names Knockout~”

-curse his flirtatious side.

-when he finally treated your wounds and scratches he just smirked at you.

“Thank you,” You said to him, “No problem, doll~ it was wonderful to meet you..” he responded.

-After that, the more missions you went on and the more you’d get hurt you’d stop by to get treated. Even the smallest wounds you’d get, you’d still visit him! You mainly liked his personality though.

-The more you came by the more he got comfortable with you, he’d start ranting to you about random things. Once, he ranted to you about his paint being scratched by Arcee and Bumblebee.

-Sometimes when Knockout had no one to treat you’d come by and talk to him. You loved his sassiness, it was so funny😭 you’d also praise him too, saying how you loved him paint and how shiny it was that day. In return, he’d praise you too.

-whenever you two hung out you would just sit on the medbays bed and swing your legs back n forth since you didn’t reach the ground. Knockout found it quite amusing, he’d definitely tease you for it.

-When the two of you got close, you started falling for him first. Mostly because of his flirtation…yeah…like I said, curse his flirtatious side😢

-Of course he’d still flirt with you, making you flushed everytime you’d leave the Medbay after your daily conversations.

-When you finally confessed he just started saying how he knew something like this would happen. He also felt the same, so yay! Then he started teasing you hella again.

-He’d obviously call you things like “doll” or “dollface,” like omg.😍 How he kisses?? Also passionate, not rlly touchy tho..he just holds you by the waist n that’s it. Praises EVERYDAY. Only if you praise him tho. PDA?? Same like Starscream, not in public.

—————————————

[inkformyblood]

speak truth into reality (Codywan Week24)

Day 01 Truth Serum/Spell - Obi-Wan doesn’t lie @codywanweek

Canon Compliant, optional Post-O66 section at end. Heavy pining with a palm kiss~

“Smells weird,” one of the newer cadets remarks — newer than Cody himself which isn’t by much all things factored in — and Cody gives him the good grace of ignoring him. Second thing he’d learnt in the Command track, compartmentalisation, and he’s gunning for gold, full marks, maybe even prizing a good job out of Alpha-17’s grasp on his way past.

Won’t make up for the fact he’s failing at step one.

“We ran into a spot of trouble on our last mission,” Kenobi answers, a smile as wide as a sunrise plastered on his face and just as fake as a politician’s promise. It’s for the benefit of the camera crew reluctantly tucked into one corner, the expression beginning to twitch into something closer to bared teeth, something violent, before Kenobi composes himself and continues. “Due to the rapid escalation of the war, quick repairs were necessary, hence the smell. I find the cheaper material does tend to linger.”

He turns his gaze towards the camera operator, and the camera by benefit of association. Cody tracks the movement, his bucket firmly in place, the perfect picture of professionalism at Kenobi’s side, and he dips into the holonet with a blink. There is a dizzying moment of confusion, the reverberation that the person dressed in his armour standing at Kenobi’s side isn’t him, couldn’t be him, carving a fresh bloody swathe through Cody’s thoughts, and it passes before it can squirm, weak-limbed and wet from the tube, into something more. He can see what the camera sees, what the holonet is bearing witness to right at this exact moment, and he knows the universe is twisting itself into a fresh shape because of it. It has to be. He can’t look at Kenobi as he is now and not come away changed.

Cody knows his General is beautiful. He’d been warned about it, in fact, three stacks of flimsiwork to sign in confirmation of receipt even before Alpha-17 attempted to scrub it into his head, the disjointed flat of his knuckles grinding against Cody’s skull as he repeated the first rule of Command again and again and again. He must have had an inkling, some latent Force-sensitive DNA spasming into life for that moment and that moment only, because he knew that Kenobi would be the ruin of Cody.

He loves him. With everything he has and everything he is and everything that he will be.

Kenobi smiles, his eyes flat and his teeth bared just within the confines of manners. “I just find it to be such a shame that the Senate doesn’t seem to prioritise the men fighting to keep them safe. That is why this was agreed on.”

The host looks to be barely out of her vat with how fragile she seems, her cheeks blooming a deeper shade of blue as she stares at Kenobi. Her throat bobs silently for a moment, the sharp pale edge of her teeth visible behind the swell of her lower lip. It is only when Kenobi straightens, his grin smoothing into something gentler, that she relaxes, her shoulders rising and falling noticeably as she composes herself. It’s a good show, enough to compel a few of the troopers into sharp professionalism as their fingers dance over the controls of the ships without looking down, conducting the engines into a low thrum of promised violence that would propel them into atmo with barely a ripple in the General’s tea. Beautiful in it’s own way and tragically unappreciated.

Behind the camera, the young man coughs once, a pale violet blush lying heavily over the soft swell of his nose and the host steps forward just enough to break the camera’s view of Cody. He doesn’t relax, not with a noose he’s tied himself around his neck, his choice to love Obi-Wan and to continue to do so, his choice to mark his understanding on Alpha-17’s piles of flimsiwork and proceed forward with his decision all the same. The camera is a regrettable necessary evil, a way of carving some understanding into the holonet’s collective conscious and they have chosen as their instrument of destruction, General Kenobi, his robe long since discarded on the back of a chair when the discussion of life on a ship had first been brought up, and his teeth safely tucked away as the conversation teeters on a knife edge once more.

“Yes, General Kenobi,” the host begins once more. Her voice is musical, pleasant enough to listen to, although Cody thinks it would begin to crack under a barrage, not enough pieces to be glued back together when there’s blood in the lines of her palms. “Thank you for mentioning that point as it brings us rather neatly into our next talking point. In the Senate, and the holonet at large, there is a rather interesting rumour circulating about you.”

Obi-Wan’s smile turns brittle and Cody’s hand doesn’t twitch towards his blaster. He has too much self-control to do anything quite as obvious and he is a Clone Commander. There’s several troopers with their hands on their blasters under his command, his authority, and at least one trooper with a wickedly sharp knife that Cody officially knows nothing about, no flimiswork filed and no denials holstered.

He’ll take just as much glory from this host’s death from another’s hand as he will his own. If it’s necessary. If it is needed.

“Oh?” Obi-Wan reaches back for his tea and Cody is already holding it out for him to take. The heat from the mug bleeds through his gloves, worn thin and stitched back together twice with thread whose colour didn’t matter. It would darken with ash and grime quickly enough and they didn’t have the resources available to be selective. Obi-Wan takes the mug, the tips of his fingers skimming against Cody’s in a gesture that would bleed professionalism if it could and yet meant so much more than that. He takes a sip, his next breath fogging in the air before he speaks. “Do enlighten me as to what that could be.”

Another blink for the holonet and Cody skims over the most recent comments, careful to keep his gaze averted from the devastation of Obi-Wan’s grin, the fragile porcelain of his countenance. His own name appears more times than he had expected, a handful of little pictures of fire and water droplets in some sort of code that had respondents queuing up in agreement, but that isn’t important. There are more commenters on Obi-Wan’s side than against from his brief surveillance, but the majority are locked onto what the rumour could be.

The minority insisting that they are about to get confirmation on the theory that Obi-Wan is dating Senator Amidala from Naboo are being resoundly shot down. Cody snaps a picture and flicks it through the coms channels to Fox before the host clears her throat once more.

Cody knows the thought flickering across Obi-Wan’s mind before it has even breached the surface, lining up the orders to make sure it would be a precision strike if needed.

“Yes, we and our viewers on the holonet would love to know—” She leans forward like she is sharing some conspiracy, her face tilted towards the camera to wink one glittering eye before she continues. “—is it true that you don’t lie?”

“That?” Obi-Wan sips at his tea once more, another puff of visible breath rolling across the surface before it vanishes. The faintest hint of florals works through the filters in Cody’s helmet, cut with enough sugar to send a shiny to medical. Apparently, it was a necessity for that blend. Obi-Wan places the cup back onto the table, his mouth drawn into a thin line in the brief moment of respite from his starving watchers, and he smiles as he turns back around. Tucking his hands into his sleeves, he straightens up to his full height, tipping his head to one side. “I wouldn’t have thought it would be a hotly discussed topic in the Senate of all places.”

One of the troopers dissolves into a coughing fit that sounds suspiciously like the clone’s bastardised Mando’a words for ‘because it is a rarity there’. Obi-Wan glances over, worry etched into the crease of his brow, the downturned corners of his mouth, and Cody leans back the inch or so he needs to get an eyeline on the coughing trooper.

It is a truly miraculous recovery.

“Your name is mentioned more often than you would think, General!” This is safer ground for the host, her shoulders relaxing by noticeable degrees, her stance widening as she tips into her hip.

One of the troopers misses his seat, a fine example of several thousand credits worth of training, not to mention the millions that went into the exact sequencing of his DNA, and he catches himself on the edge of the console before making a second attempt. His batchmate standing next to him helps, his shoulders held tight to contain his laughter. Cody is going to murder them both and mount their helmets on the wall.

The host doesn’t even notice. She continues, her hands splayed wide, open, inviting. “So, could you confirm for us?”

She bats her eyes, long lashes dark against the paler hue of her cheek, the smudge of colour on her lids. Cody wasn’t decanted yesterday, he sat through every module he needed to and the again for the supplemental material tacked onto the end after a handful of cycles with the Jedi. He’s not unfamiliar with people flirting with General Kenobi, already bloodied in that particular conflict in the moments after meeting the man, but this tastes different, feels different.

It’s almost a reflex, the final death throes of an insect after it threw itself into the candle flame. A dance that she has moved through the positions enough times that her body moves on instinct, sending her step by step closer to an abyss she doesn’t wish to stare into. This particular outreach team had been assigned to them, the orders skidding across Cody’s desk and marked with Fox’s heavy-handed subtlety, and he’s plotting something. Always is.

Never forgiven Cody for being lifted out of their tube three minutes before him.

Cody doesn’t jolt back into the present moment, he is simply there, like he always is. At Obi-Wan’s side.

“I don’t lie, my dear.” Obi-Wan croons the endearment like he wields his saber, all flash with one hand to hide the blade he holds in the other. He slips his hands from his sleeves once more, a few scattered marks across his fingers from the leather bands he wears, and inclines his head towards the door. “I believe, along with this full expose, you were promised a tour of the ship. I would be remiss in my duties if I didn’t uphold my side of things.”

There’s a twittering of pleasantries Cody doesn’t bother to remember, letting the noise wash over him, waiting for his orders. He picks up Obi-Wan’s tea, one hand flat beneath the base, the other cupping the side, and follows them. He’s a few steps behind, just outside of the gaze of the camera, so there is a moment of respite.

He doesn’t take it.

It wouldn’t be fair, wouldn’t be right, for Cody to be off duty when Obi-Wan is still having to play the part made for him. When the Kaminoans threaded his DNA together, some pieces must have been lost, drifting off into the filters of his tube or burrowing into Fox next to him, because Cody cannot stop. He just is, fiercely and entirely.

“The ship is a self-contained living and combat space.” Obi-Wan speaks easily, each word clearly defined and Cody is reminded of the mechanical voices on the training modules. “Comfortably, we can house nearly one thousand two hundred men on board. Currently, we are housing two thousand.”

The host’s steps slow, not enough that she would crash into the waiting eye of the camera held just behind her, but, in comparison to Obi-Wan’s easy stride, her shock is a scream. Cody doesn’t pause with her, maintaining his distance from Obi-Wan, and he draws level with her. Through the film of his visor, Cody can make out the tight press of her mouth, the sheen of her eyes as they dart up his helmet and then lower to the cup Cody still holds carefully tucked into his chest. Her expression shifts into something Cody can’t name but is wary of all the same, a blade pressing against the line of his ribs and he isn’t sure if it’s meant as a boon or a threat.

Cody looks to Obi-Wan.

A single nod and Cody settles back into familiar lines, head raised, back straight.

“Does that not prove a problem for resources?” The host asks. She colours a pale shade of blue, straying from her given list of questions, and Cody knows why Fox chose her to match with Obi-Wan and himself. Curiosity is a drug that devours itself, driving them onwards ever further, and he sees the bite of it layered over her shoulders.

Obi-Wan inclines his head to one side in acknowledgement. “Somewhat. We try to mitigate it as best we can but some situations are unavoidable. If you would follow me down here?”

The corridor isn’t one of the better ones on the ship, it noticeably buckles on one side, forcing them into single file about halfway down. It hadn’t been a secret Separtist weapon like the scrolling feed in the corner of Cody’s vision speculates, or the scar from some space battle, just flimsy materials buckling beneath a little bit of wear and tear. It’s a chilling thought, one Cody doesn’t care to linger on for longer than absolutely necessary, the idea that the ship he is forced to entrust his existence to, the lives of his men to, could come apart in an instant for no other reason than to make a politician’s bottom line fatter.

They wouldn’t be saved if that happened.

No. Cody adjusts the thought in the same instant. Obi-Wan would save them, no orders needed. He would hold together the decaying carcass of their supposed salvation for as long as he could for the sake of just one more life saved.

Cody falls back behind the camera on Obi-Wan’s silent instructions, letting the pair move ahead behind his General. Like this, he can see through the camera’s lens, the General’s back clear above the slighter frame of the host, their shadows stretching out ahead them, stark in the artificial light. There is a slight haze around Obi-Wan, not dissimilar to the way the horizon trembles beneath heat, a window into the impulses of the universe for a moment, and Cody’s breath catches in his throat, faintly floral with the tang of ozone.

“If you could pause a moment?” Obi-Wan asks in a tone that expects to be obeyed instantly, still mild and pleasant but steel running beneath it. Cody halts instantly, the sudden absence of his bootsteps echoing loudly, and he can make out the hurried sounds of movement in the room beyond through the vent above his head before Obi-Wan knocks on the door.

It opens to a trooper still in his blacks like Cody had instructed him to be. There should be two others behind him, similarly deliberately dressed down, a couple hands on cards scattered on the table in front of them. It might just be set dressing, a scream through gritted teeth for the humanity the leash is slowly choking from them, but it could be an opening. Obi-Wan may have played this game longer than Cody has, but he’s got a few tricks up his sleeve at least.

“Ah, Remy. I hope I haven’t disturbed you.”

“Not at all, General.”

There’s another volley of comments filtering through Cody’s bucket, some of them entirely little pictures of fire. He doesn’t know what that means.

“I was hoping to show our guests around a standard bunk-room,” Obi-Wan continues. His hands are folded in front of him, his thumbs resting against the delicate network of veins in his wrist and Cody knows, from furiously guarded experience, that his heartbeat will be as even as his voice, each pulse measured and exact, working towards the same goal.

Remy nods once, burnished professionalism instead of the deep-rooted network woven through Cody’s veins, but it’s a start. He’d polish up to be a fine trooper, not quite Command track but Squad Leader maybe. If he survives long enough. “Of course, sir.”

“If you’d follow me?” Obi-Wan sweeps into the room without waiting for an answer and the pair, boxed in unknowingly by a Jedi and his Commander, do as he instructs.

The camera swings wide first, devouring the regulation unpainted walls in the same grey shade as the rest of the ship, nothing to distinguish this as a room intended for sleeping except the rows of bunks spaced out from one wall to another, repeating across the room. Two of the bunks are occupied, the troopers doing a passable job of faking sleep. Their eyes gleam from behind mostly closed lids, a matched set of predators observing prey scurrying by. One trooper has even stripped to the waist, the blanket bunched around his hip, and his chest rises and falls in a mimicry of the rolling breath of dreams. Another volley of flames springs across Cody’s vision, but it isn’t enough to distract him from the slight tint to Obi-Wan’s cheeks as he turns to face them once more.

In the centre of the room, two of the bunks had been removed, shoved into the aisles instead to allow space for a couple of storage crates fastened together and then bolted to the floor. Remy has returned to his careful perch on the floor, resting high on his knees as he surveys the hand of discarded cards on the table, picking them back up one by one. Stacked neatly, two other hands sit waiting at his left, and the surface is cluttered with coordinated sets of a sabbac game in full-throttle, spent blaster refills serving the place of chips.

“If I may,” the host begins, glancing first at Obi-Wan who inclines his head towards the trooper. “What is this you’re doing?”

“Playing sabbac, ma’am.”

Cody, unseen by the camera, raises his hand to his bucket, first and second finger splayed wide and the rest curled into his palm. He taps his fingers against his temple before moving them outwards, the same battle sign they would use for an advance. It might not be the battlefield he’s used to but he trusts his men. He trusts Obi-Wan.

“I’m playing three hands at a time, using the blaster refills for tokens, and trying to refine my play style.” Remy grins up at her, wide enough that the ring pierced through his tongue could be seen for an instant as he continues. “Got to stop my batch mates gloating somehow.”

The host nods. She clasps her hands in front of her chest for an instant, squeezing tight enough that her skin discolours before she drops her hold, returning to the selfsame splay of her palms. It feels like a warning, something in the base of Cody’s skull twitching in alarm, a snake rattling its tail just to display there’s no mace involved, failing to declare the fangs it carries. Out of the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan’s grin sharpens to a fine point, the blue of his eyes shining in the glow of the lights overhead.

Remy’s gaze darts to Cody, then to Obi-Wan.

He doesn’t drop the grin. The ring in his tongue taps against his teeth, not loud enough for anyone who isn’t a clone to hear but the sound echoes in Cody’s bucket like bootsteps, refill, reload, aim.

Lying another set down, Remy plucks a blaster refill from one pile, adding it to his current selection.

“Why not use credits?” The host asks. Her thumb runs along the edge of the opposing nail, the habit of a lifetime banked but not yet extinguished. She orbits the camera’s gaze as she steps closer to the table, tipping her head to peer down at the cards laid before her, but she never crosses the unknowable line that would put her between the trooper and Obi-Wan.

Remy shrugs. “We don’t make any that we can get. Get a stipend from the Temple—”

“We try to give as much as we can,” Obi-Wan murmurs, loud enough to be picked up the camera but gentle enough that the host doesn’t startle too overtly when he speaks.

“Better spent on the refugees, sir.” Remy selects his next hand, fanning the cards out with a snap. “Our ‘wages’ are tied up in the renewal fund held by the Senate for our benefit. So, we make do with what we’ve got for things like this.”

There is a moment, Cody knows, when an audience is gathered in front of the altar of an empty space and a covering when everything stops as the covering is drawn back. He is used to the empty space being a patch of barren earth and the covering being a salvaged piece of cloth held up instead of what he is witnessing now; the slowly dawning expression of the host, curiosity with its teeth bared. Obi-Wan catches Cody’s gaze above it all, the revelation of his plan, the culmination of everything he had worked for over the past few weeks, and he looks to Cody first.

It’s humbling, feeling like the universe has knelt at his feet, palms upturned for something Cody cannot name. He holds Obi-Wan’s gaze as best as he can, his breath catching on every broken spur in his chest.

The host has a datapad in her hands when Cody takes stock of her once more; angled away from the gaze of the camera, a stylus scrawling across the surface of it. Her tongue is caught between her blunt teeth, her thumb jutting out to press against the broken edge of her nail. Focus has settled over her features like an exoskeleton, everything else blunted in its passage.

“This has been most enlightening, General Kenobi. Thank you.”

“Of course.” Obi-Wan bows, slighter lower than regulations required. His hair falls across his forehead and he pushes it back into place with one hand.

There’s another burst of comments across the scrolling feed in Cody’s bucket, numerous enough that one barely flashes onto his visor before it’s replaced by another. Water droplets, this time.

“We’ll do an establishing shot of the entire ship as we leave and I have your comm code, yes?”

“That is correct. I may not reply straight away, but I will answer in whatever capacity I can.” Obi-Wan tips his head towards Cody, a signal to begin leading them out paired with a grin that is smaller than the previous, but no less beautiful because of it.

The host nods. Momentarily outside of the gaze of the camera, the operator turning to point the watchful gaze of half the universe at Remy once more, she flexes her fingers, the jut of her knuckles pale as claws move beneath the stretched skin. The corner of her mouth twitches, the expression gone before it could be fully registered, but Cody knows rage when he sees it, bone deep fury that, finally, blessedly, had some weight behind it. The camera returns to her and she is gentle perfection personified, dainty as porcelain once more. Begrudgingly, Cody considers the possibility that Fox may have been right and dismisses it in the same instance. Fox would never let him live it down if he did.

The rest of the walk back towards the ramp is carried out in near-silence, the feed cut for a handful of moments of privacy. Obi-Wan doesn’t lower his guard. Cody can sense the tension in him, the pressure behind his eyes like an oncoming storm brewing on the horizon. It doesn’t abate until the camera operator and host have stepped off the end of the ramp, allowing Obi-Wan to press his thumb and forefinger into his eyes with a groan. He turns away from the entrance, orbiting Cody without needing to look and speaks without removing the blunt press of his hand. “This singularity of mine is often more trouble than it’s worth, but it seems to have helped in this occasion. People don’t expect a man who doesn’t lie to be dishonest.”

“No, sir. Do you think it will work?”

“I hope so. It’ll be worth it even if all that happens is a handful of seconds on a newsreel and some dedicated fans in the archives. It’ll be something more than what we — what you — had. And I want you to have everything, Cody.”

Cody swallows, the sound loud in the sudden silence of his thoughts. “Everything, sir?”

“Everything.” Obi-Wan drops his hand, his gaze landing fully on Cody, unobstructed by interlopers on their ship, and Cody tracks the movement of his eyes. First, to his helmet, catching the exact placement of his eyes beneath his visor, then lower, to his hands. Obi-Wan’s mouth parts in surprise, his cheeks flushing a rich shade, a near enough match to the red of his hair, and it shouldn’t be as beautiful as it is. “Cody?”

“Sir?”

“Oh, you wonderful man.” Obi-Wan steps closer, already reaching for the mug Cody offers him once more. He scoops up the mug with one hand, replacing the weight of it with his other hand, curling his fingers around Cody’s as best as he could.

“It won’t be warm, not now, but I can—“

“It’s perfect, Cody. Thank you.” Obi-Wan squeezes Cody’s hands tight, the leather indenting with the motion, and Cody is used the the bluntness his gloves bring, but he feels Obi-Wan’s touch clearly. Warm skin against warm skin. He curls his own fingers around Obi-Wan’s as best as he can, clumsy from inexperience but steady as he had been trained to be.

Obi-Wan sips at his tea, his gaze drifting to the wandering motions of the departing pair. “They should be out there for a moment longer and then we will be on our way once more.”

Cody’s heart clenches, an old familiar bitterness coating the back of his teeth. They should have been able to exist longer in this in-between moment, the breath taken before leaping to the next objective, the next battle, the place where they could be something other than a General and his Commander.

But, that isn’t meant for them. For others, maybe, but not them. Not yet.

Obi-Wan’s thumb presses against the seam at Cody’s wrist, the rough callus scratching along his skin.

“I would like to kiss you, Cody,” Obi-Wan murmurs, his words undeniably true and Cody wouldn’t think to question them regardless. He is no closer than was before but Cody burns with the rush of heat from his skin, the only point of contact Cody’s outstretched hands, the press of Obi-Wan’s thumb against bare skin. “But if you’re agreeable, I have an idea of what will do for now.”

“Yes, Obi-Wan. Please.”

Cody couldn’t guess at what Obi-Wan is going to do, but he’ll follow where the other man leads gladly. He loves him too much, too fiercely, not to.

Obi-Wan squeezes his hands once more, and kneels in front of him, one leg braced high while the other extends behind him. It puts him on level with Cody’s hands and he leans forward to kiss the space his hand was occupying. His hair falls across the spread of Cody’s wrists, his beard rasping against the tips of Cody’s fingers, and Cody senses the grin better than he can see or feel it through his gloves.

It’s there all the same. He knows it.

Obi-Wan kisses his palms, soft, delicate, once more before he rises. “Shall we return, my dear?”

Cody nods and Obi-Wan walks towards the bridge, Cody a few steps behind. His palms are burning, an ache he hopes will stay as solid. as the memory will.

⁂

There is a holoclip encoded into the receiver at his wrist, transferred into his new bucket so seamlessly that CC-2224 doesn’t think to question it. He doesn’t question orders.

He doesn’t recognise the figure in the forefront, a blueskinned woman baring her teeth in a grin at the camera, but he recognises the set behind her, in the distance. The traitor Kenobi kneels in front of a trooper before pressing his face into the outspread clutch of the trooper’s palms, kissing them.

CC-2224’s palms burn as he watches the clip. He doesn’t remember why.

[sariixxx]

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄 ꨄ

𝗦. 𝗨𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗵𝗮

____________________

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳 ❣︎ / 𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁 (?)

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀 𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗿𝘀

__________________________

Sasuke is closed off, cold even.

But not to you, no.

After all the tears and broken hearts he's caused everyone, people aren't as interested in him as before.

Sometimes they do wonder if the young Uchiha has emotions and can laugh, but practically everyone has internally decided, he doesn't.

It's the way it is, nobody is suprised.

You've always been close, maybe the long friendship helped Sasuke to trust you, so when you started dating, only a few things changed.

Physical touch, or any sort of romantic affection was a bit difficult for him, but with time he's gotten used to it, and now craves your presence.

If you're not with him, he'll let Naruto blabber the most utter nonsense while thinking about his partner.

Oh how he misses your sweet scent in moments like this.

"-and then he said...", the loud blonde was shouting about some problem again so Sasuke decided to zone out for a bit.

His mind drifted somewhere completely else.

You've been on a mission for some days now.

A Jonin like you sure doesn't have much free time, especially after war.

There are millions of things that still need to be settled, so you're doing your best to help.

Sasuke's lips twitch at the thought.

He can't help this warm feeling in his chest, buliding up drastically.

Sometimes it was hard not to admit he was missing you, so emotions built up in him, making it difficult to cope.

The raven's eyes drift, watching passersby, completely zoning out.

How he wished you were here.

____________________________________________

A few days later you come home.

It's night.

You've given the hokage, Kakashi, your report and are now on your way to your and Sasuke's shared home.

After war, he had gone away for three years again to protect the village from the outside and to find himself again.

You're glad he's back, back with you.

Your footsteps are quiet, almost silent.

You knock on the door, before coming in.

"I'm home.."

The further you walk into the house, the warmer you feel.

You can't help the little smile on your face when a really tired Sasuke walks towards you.

"...Welcome home...", he mumbles, immediately wrapping his arm around you.

You smile, hugging him back.

"Hey.. I'll take a quick shower okay? You already go ahead and sleep. You really look like you need it", you chuckle as he slightly grumbles but obeys.

After the shower you walk into the bedroom, seeing Sasuke already laying there, eyes fixated on you.

You chuckle, gesturing him to look away so you can put on some clothes before taking off your towel.

He mumbles something about how he's "already seen everything" but does as you say.

When you have on your pajamas, you join him in your guys' bed, cuddling yourself into the warm covers.

You snuggle closer to Sasuke, grinning up to him.

That sight makes it hard for the Uchiha not to smile back, feeling content.

He puts his hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer.

Your head is on his chest and he kisses it softly.

It wasn't often, that he displayed affection so openly, even though it's you.

But at nights like this, craving each other's presence, not having seen each other for a while, it's hard to resist.

You inhale his scent, feeling it, engraving it into your brain, so you'll never forget.

You wrap your arms around him, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck.

Sasuke feels your hot breath against his skin, making his cheeks feel unusually hot, his heart beating faster than it normally does.

He used to resent the way you make him feel.

But he's grown to love it.

Love the fact that you're the only one who's ever been able to have such an effect on him.

Sometimes he wonders if this is all a dream.

If you were really here, by his side.

If you really stayed, even though he had fought against everyone, made countless mistakes and even lost an arm in the process.

Yeah, sometimes he isn't sure if somebody just killed him and had enough pity to put him into a genjutsu to let him feel happiness one last time.

But the way your breath against his neck, the rhythm of your heartbeat against his chest and the warmth of your skin on his cold one feels..

Too real to be an illusion, too real not to be true.

And when you look up, your bright eyes full of love and affection, he can't help but melt under your gaze.

Sasuke watches you, a faint smile displaying so naturally on his lips, that he knows.

Your love was true, it was real.

You kiss his cheek before laying down again.

"Good night Sasuke. I love you."

And like always, like clockwork, he responds while tracing the Uchiha clan symbol on the back of your shirt.

"Good night. I love you too."

[my-my-my]

For some reason, I cannot get the idea of post muken! dad! Aizen out of my head. Like how would he act around his pregnant s/o? How much would that change him as a person? As well as how he would try to raise his kid(s) with his partner considering his reputation and past. "My dad's a lieutenant!" "My dad works at the Academy!" "Oh yeah? Well my dad's a war criminal." What are your thoughts on this? lolol

🌸 Love your stuff man, keep up the good work! 🌸

Thanks for your comment!! Post-Muken!dad!Aizen what a concept!! (I love the idea).

TW: none!

Aizen around his pregnant s/o is one word: overprotective. He's an immortal man, but his s/o and future child are not! It's not necessarily his physical presence though that would be with you constantly, instead he will make sure they have protective kido and seals on them for anything and everything that will happen.

He would also go with them to appointments (even if the attending shinigami!doctor is freaked out). He's a bit annoying (because he's such a smart-ass) in that, he will know what's going on with your body, its changes, etc., and continuously interrupts the doctor. You have to boot him out of the room unless he stops. Even then, he thinks your doctor is inferior (how annoying).

Aizen would be a calming partner, so he would be in the delivery room with you if you wanted him to be there. Since he's so strong (lol) I don't think he'd bat an eye if you squeezed his hand or screamed bloody murder as you delivered your child. He'd make sure you (and your child) were taken care of immediately - but again, a bit overbearing about it. I can see him pissing off the staff if they "wrapped the baby" too tight, or you weren't attended to quick enough to his liking.

With his child:

Although Aizen is known to be a master manipulator and liar, I can't see him lying about his past to his child. I think he would be honest and even explain that people will look down on them because of his actions in the past.

It would be a great lesson for his child on the concept of "the sins of the father" (even though Soul Society isn't remotely modelled after Abrahamic rules). He knows their child would be a just, kind and polite person - but by having Aizen as a father, people have preconceived ideas of how this child will act. It can be very isolating for the child, I'd imagine. I can see Aizen being understanding, and encouraging his child to befriend those they can. I always imagined that Ichigo would have a soft spot for Aizen and lets Kazui meet him, so I'd like to say an older Kazui would be a big brother figure to Aizen's child.

It would be Kyoraku who makes sure that this child isn't attacked though - as much disdain Kyoraku has for Aizen, he understands that a child is not a clone of their parent. And besides, Kyoraku would joke that the child has all the best features of you nothing of Aizen (lol).

[crowsofdarkness]

Time: Prologue

-gif not mine. credit to owner.-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Content Warnings: fluff, angst, language, violence, and mentions of death.

Summary: Your relationship with Bucky could withstand anything, even time itself.

Authors Note: This series will have twenty one chapters, some of which will be short and quick, and takes place throughout the forties. I did my best to line up the days along with Captain America: The First Avenger. Tags are open if anyone is interested!

Tags: @that-blonde-girl @bookofriverr @starfly-nicole

Time Masterlist

APRIL 23, 1945. 

The small group stood around the large hole in the ground and the noise of quiet sobs and hushed voices filled my ears. I sat on my chair keeping my eyes trained hard on the casket in front of me. It was closed, not having a cold body lying inside of it, but it still did nothing to my breaking heart. Even though his body was never returned, mostly because it hadn’t been recovered, I could picture him laying in there; eyes sewn shut with his arms over his chest, clutching his dog tags in his hand. 

I would like to think that there was a picture of us in the other. 

Springtime in Brooklyn had approached fast and the sudden chill and shift in air caused me to pull my jacket closer to my chest. 

“He loved you so much, Y/N. You were his everything.” 

His mother’s words were deep in my mind, those words replaying over and over. She had been the only thing that kept me going during this hard time, knowing that I had no one else. 

“Y/N, honey, it’s time.” 

Turning my head up towards the familiar voice, I gave a small smile to Winifred and with a quick nod, I stood on shaky legs as I made a few steps towards the casket. 

My fingers sprawled over the cold wood and even though his body wasn’t physically with me, I could feel his presence around me. 

“If only we had more time together. You promised to make an honest woman out of me when you returned. I promise to look after ma and Rebecca for you as long as you promise to stay with Stevie. I know he changed and doesn’t need you but we don’t know what it’s like on the other side.” 

A loud sob got caught on my throat, realizing that I not only lost the love of my life but also my best friend in the matter of a few months. 

“I love you so much, Bucky. I’ll see you again soon my love.” 

With a soft tap on the casket as a final goodbye, I gave a longing hug to Winifred, promising to visit her soon, and made the lone walk towards my car on the other end of the parking lot. Thoughts of how much my life had changed the last few days swirled in my mind. 

Winifred had waited months after hearing of Bucky’s death before having a funeral for the hope of receiving his body. We both didn’t want to bury an empty casket but after another night of no good news, I convinced her that we needed to put his soul to rest.

In that time, I had found out that Steve had passed as well in a plane crash. The two most important men in my life were gone so close together and my heart couldn’t take the break and hurt any longer. 

“He never had a choice,” I sobbed to myself. “He didn’t want this.”  

Bucky never had a say in fighting in the war against the Germans, being drafted. But that didn’t stop the proud smile he wore when he received the news. 

“The 107th. I ship out to London first thing tomorrow.” 

The night before he left was spent with family and closest friends before it was the two of us, in his twin sized bed. We had to be so quiet so his sister couldn’t hear us. That night he promised to make me an honest woman when he returned; buying a home, getting married, and having a family. 

Nothing about his death made any sense to us. The military only said that he had died in the line of duty while working a secret mission that he and Steve had been working on for months prior. Everything about both of their deaths rang a large questioning bell in my brain but I had been overtaken with so much grief that I hadn’t thought to ask more questions. 

Rain had started falling from the dark clouds above, mixing with my tears, and as my body continued to shake with the sobs, I heard a loud crack behind me. I didn’t bother turning to look, thinking that it was thunder, but when I heard his deep voice my feet froze in fear.

“Doll.”

“Stevie?” I asked through my broken sobs. I hastily wiped away the tears from my eyes, wondering if what I was seeing was actually in front of me.

Everything about the man standing in front of me looked familiar only older; so much older than the last time I had seen him in that bar. Before his life with The Howling Commandos began. 

“Wha-? How can you be here?”

“Y/N, you can’t get in that car,” Steve reached for my hand.

I smacked it away, fear of how Steve was standing in front of me. He was dead. Body somewhere in some ocean. Never recovered. 

“You look like Steve. But you’re much older than the Steve I know,” I stared at him, puzzled.

“It’s me, Y/N. I’m here to take you home.” Steve vowed. “You have to come with me, quick.”

I furiously shook my head. “How do I know it’s really you?”

My back bumped into the car and my shaking hands reached for the handle. Steve gently placed his hand over my own, forcing me to look at him.

“Please, you can’t drive away from here.” He begged, bottom lip trembled slightly.

“Why not?!” I bellowed.

Older Steve shook his head, “I can’t tell you but you have to trust me not to get in that car.”

“I must be imagining this. It’s a side effect from the grief.” I rubbed my eyes, the exhaustion weighing me down.

“I can take you to him but we have to go now. Bucky’s waiting for you; his girl.”

With the mention of his name, I looked at Older Steve dumbfounded. The wet strands of hair stuck to my face as I stuttered over the words that fell from my lips. 

“You can take me to him?” 

Steve nodded. “We have to leave now. I don’t have much time to explain everything to you but once we’re there, I’ll explain it all to you.” 

I shook my head confused. “Go where?” 

“A different time,” Steve admitted, quickly grabbing my hand. 

Our bodies were sucked through this kind of vortex, and I felt myself flying through darkness. 

[yourstrqly]

hi i saw your request are open and i wanted to know if you could write where clement novalak (f2 driver) gives his partner a necklace?

★ . . . 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐊, 𝐂𝐍𝟐𝟏

pairing: clement novalak x reader (no pronouns used)

in which he gifts you a dainty silver necklace with his initials when he comes over to your place

the early hour of the evening settled upon you as the wind outside grew colder and the sun didn't show an arm anymore, leaving the sky darker and dull behind your closed curtains of your small living room.

On your lap rested a bowl of a day old rice mixed with tofu and some vegetables you had found in your freezer, that you decided to spice up with a splash of a sauce you've got in the pantry — it was a quick meal, everything thrown in the pan and boom, your food was ready to eat after only a five minute expenditure. It also hit the spot, and the half-full box of cookies your french boyfriend sent to your house yesterday after you had ranted on the phone how the day in the office had been utter shit and you really craved something sweet, paired rather well with the tea as a desert on this boring night.

some friends of yours went out in a club but that wasn't for you, when you knew, you had to show up the next day at work — you didn't want to wake up with a massive headache, too, if you were being honest, so a chill night at home it was.

sitting on the sofa between lots of pillows and a plush blanket thrown over your lap, you pushed the ceramic bowl back on the table and grabbed the remote to change the series; you decided, you weren't in the mood for the british bake off and searched for the percy jackson series to rewatch.

watching annabeth, percy and grover ensembling the given task by the oracle, you re-visited the time where you still were the same age, dreaming of fighting the furies and other strange greek myths monsters alongside the trio, falling in love with the handsome apollo kid luke and forming a friendship with clarisse, a child of the god of war. now you were years older than them, sitting in your shoe box sized apartment, mentally drained because of work and half asleep as you took a bit of the slightly stale cookie.

the door rang, breaking your tales of being a halfgod up. a sign escaped your throat as your eyes flitted to the clock on your wall; it was nine pm and you wondered who wanted to grace his or her presence at your door at that time of the day. you weren't in the mood for a visitor and prayed for a lost delivery man.

feet tapped against the wooden floor, reaching the door. you pulled the doorknob open, eyes roaming the body of the man who kneeled down and fumbled with his bag.

"can i help you?", you grumbled, irritation laced your voice.

the man's head turned upwards, a grin widely presented on his lips as his dreamy brown eyes looked into yours; you mirrored his smile, happy to see clem.

"hey treasure, rough day, eh?", he asked, standing up to pull you in a much needed hug. clem's body radiated warmth and his woody vanilla scent brought you immense comfort. he felt you nod on his shoulder, face mushed in the crook between his left shoulder and strong neck.

the french didn't let you go as you went back inside, foot pushing the door close behind you and you went deeper in your apartment till he turned you both around and he fell backwards first on the sofa. "Want to talk about it?"

"no", you mumbled, a purr rumbling in your throat while clem's fingers messaged your scalp. "'m happy you're here, clemy."

you laid there, relaxing against him, only hearing the soft noises of the tv diddling in the background as your boyfriends hand cradled your head, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips. soft butterfly kisses followed, none filled with nothing but romance and peace; your right hand found its place at the nape of his neck, tugging his hair to hear a sweet moan of his, one you loved to hear whenever you slowly made out — the pair of you knew that tonight's kissing and touching wouldn't result in sex but nonetheless you enjoyed to dance to the edge.

abruptly, clement stopped the kiss, caressing your warm cheek with his thumb. then he dipped his finger between your lips, feeling the wetness of your mouth and a groan left his throat. his eyes were hyperfocused on your tongue, which glided along his thick thumb, sucking and nibbling playfully on it.

with his free hand, he pulled something out a pocket of his trousers, fiddling with it as his brown doe eyes watched yours; a blush coated his cheeks at the lustfilled gaze of yours and he felt his trousers tightened.

gently, he pulled his thumb out of your mouth and rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. "i love you."

you hummed, repeating his words, basking in the moment of being loved and in love. then, you felt coldness running around your throat and clem's palm laying on top of it — it was dainty, another necklace he got you.

"open your eyes, treasure," the french man whispered, resulting you to do so.

fiddling with the dainty silver band of the necklace, your fingertips stop at the pendant, two small curved letters 'cn' as well as the number 21, clems racing number. it was beautiful and unpretentious, going along prettily with the rest of your jewellery, mostly your boyfriend brought for you.

"Oh clemy, i love it", you mumbled, kissing the cold pendant before looking up at your bearded boyfriend, giving him a big smooch. "merci beaucoup."

"Tout pour toi. Si je te donnais les étoiles, tu les aurais entre tes mains, treasure."

= everything for you. if I could give you the stars, you'd have them in your hands.

CLEMY IS THE LOML GUYS !!!

[deadbythemorning]

Project EVE (Harry Potter x reader) part 1

Synopsis: When accidentally sent back in time fifty years, Y/n turns to the most famous wizards for help

OR

Y/n must attend her final years of school fighting for her life at Hogwarts while trying not to fall in love with one of the most famous wizards in the world

Y/n sat up with a throbbing head and looked around her surroundings where am I?

She knew everything was still temperamental but everything had been successful so far, so why did it mess up with her?

Once she finally stood, she dusted off her hands and tried to find any sort of guide. Everything seems to be outdated here

Great

Y/n watched as the witches and wizards passed her on the busy street

Clearly no one in London knows what current fashion is

As if she were waiting for a browser to load, she scrunched her eyebrows in confusion

Somethings not right…

She quickly whipped around but bumped into a rather large figure

“Sorry bout that” she took a few steps back to get a good look at the figure and gawked

“Y-you’re Hagrid!”

“ ‘m sorry, I don’t recall ever meetin you”

Y/n then quickly shook her head “No, this has to be a polyjuice potion”

Now the giant was confused “You must’ve hit yer head pretty hard”

Her heart began to thump out of her chest “But you were in the Great War…”

“What Great War?”

Y/n looked at him as if he were stupid “The Great War against Voldemort”

Hagrid quickly hushed her while looking around “You shouldn’t say his name so carelessly, one of his followers might hear”

Followers? “I’m sorry” she takes another few steps back “What year is it?”

Hagrid slightly tilts his head to the side “Well it’s 1996”

♡

“I don’t know Albus, she sounds genuine” Hagrid whispered

“She sounds confused” Snape objected in his usual monotonous voice

“She speaks of a war” Hagrid countered which silenced them all “As if it’s no big deal” they all looked at each other nervously

“Well if she is from the future, we must send her back immediately” Mcgonagall sternly tells them “In any event that what she’s saying is true, she could change the course of history”

“So get a time turner and get on with it!” Flitwick urged

“It’s never that simple” Dumbledore finally spoke up which silenced their bickering “Whether we like it or not, she’s here for a reason. We should at least speak with her before we deem her a threat to our future or our students”

They all looked to one another before filing out of his office to meet the girl. Y/n on the other hand was too busy admiring the trinkets to notice they were all staring at her, it wasn’t until Hagrid cleared his throat that she finally snapped out of it and spun around.

“Oh..wow” she gently placed the lamp down and gawked at the group of teachers in front of her “You’re…you’re Severus Snape” she quickly bowed her head “Sir it’s an absolute honor to meet you, you were like, my biggest inspiration when I was a kid” she then looked over at the rest of them “Holy…I never thought I’d be in a room filled with the most famous witches and wizards in history”

“How did you get here miss…”

“L/n. Y/n L/n” she then paused to think “The last thing I remember is trying project EVE myself…and then waking up on some random street in London”

“Project EVE?” Flitwick asked while Y/n nodded

“It’s this thing my friend and I started to help people find their soulmate” Snape was quick to roll his eyes

“And what does EVE stand for?” Mcgonagall questioned

“Eve was the name of the woman who originally started the program” she told them “After she passed, my friend Fiona and I decided we were gonna finish what she started”

“And how does it work?” Dumbledore asked while Y/n twiddled her thumbs

“It’s actually quite complicated” she started “You’re supposed to cast a charm and then drink a potion” Y/n waved her hand in dismissal “It’s supposed to bring you to the location of your soul mate but clearly it faulted when I did it myself” she gives a bashful smile while looking down “You see, I specialize in potions. Spell casting has never been easy for me. Fiona wanted me to try it out since it was successful for her and a bunch of others, but I fear my spell casting ability is the reason I’ve been sent almost fifty years into the past”

“Simple fix then!” Flitwick smiled “We just preform everything correctly and she should be sent to her time!”

Although they all agreed, Dumbledore knew it could never be that simple and Mcgonagall knew just from taking one look at his face.

“Wow, this really has been an experience” she tells them while Snape hands her the potion “I mean to spend HOURS with the worlds most famous wizards, to drink a potion made from thee Severus Snape” she then scoffs “You know what? I’m not even mad that this happened”

“The faster you drink it, the faster you go home” Snape tells her while trying to get her to take the bottle from his hand

“Right” she opened the vial and put it to her lips but paused “What if it doesn’t work?”

“What?”

“What if it doesn’t work” she reiterated “I mean, you’re all brilliant but… if it doesn’t work, how will you know?”

They all looked between one another before Dumbledore spoke up “Do you know how to use the floo network?” Which earned another scoff

“Do I know how to use the floo network? That shit is ancient of course I-” she then quickly covered her mouth “I’m sorry”

Dumbledore lights the fireplace and everyone gets into positions “I can’t tell if she’s mad or an absolute genius” Hagrid muttered to himself while Flitwick nudged him

“Well, bottoms up” she chugged the disgusting liquid while Mcgonagall hit her with the charm, causing her to disappear.

“Well how do we know if it worked?” Flitwick asked and they all turned to Dumbledore

“Now we just wait”

They decided that an hour would be long enough for them to declare she was back home but it had only been ten minutes and the girl rolled out from the fire place “Well…” Y/n slowly stands up with a loud groan “I’m still here but now I’m covered in soot, so now what”

Disbelief was written all over their faces. They had enough problems at Hogwarts, they didn’t need to add to the pile.

“I suppose now we get you sorted” they all turned to Dumbledore and began arguing over his decision

“She can’t stay here at Hogwarts! She might disturb the course of history-”

“Sorted? We would have to make her a schedule and robes and-”

“Hogwarts doesn’t need to deal with more problems, we should simply hand her over to the ministry and let them-”

“This is a life changing event, I-I don’t think I should be attending class and studying. It’s bad for my mental-”

“SILENCE” everyone immediately stopped and turned to the older man “I will handle her finances along with her schedule but at the moment we’ve done all we can” they all turn to Y/n “We can’t let her wander around the halls without taking any classes, they might get suspicious. And as for sending her to the ministry, they might make her tell them what’s supposed to happen and they might alter history themselves”

Y/n then awkwardly raised her hand “History of magic was never my strongest subject, so I couldn’t tell them about the next fifty years even if I wanted to”

Snape scoffs “Was there a subject that you did specialize in?” He drawls and she gives him a cheeky smile

“Potions”

“I shall send everyone an owl explaining why miss L/n is here so everyone has the same story” Dumbledore tells them as he walks over to Y/n with the sorting hat “In the mean time”

♡

“Twenty five points from Hufflepuff” seriously, what’s with this point system? “And where might your tie be miss L/n?” Professor Umbridge asked

“Beats me professor” she replied nonchalantly while the older woman gave her a forced smile

“As a woman, you ought to dress more ladylike, you should care about your appearance” a tie quickly fastens its way around her neck “Another twenty points for unkempt appearance” Y/n rolled her eyes and waited for the book to gently land on her desk. None of it mattered though. OWLS, the tests, the studying. All she had to do was figure out what she did wrong and she’d be back home before no time “Miss L/n?” Y/n’s eyes quickly snapped up towards the front

“Yes?”

“Care to repeat what i just said? Verbatim?”

Y/n blew the hair out of her face while shaking her head “So sorry professor” she apologized while rubbing the stars into her left eye “I wasn’t listening to a word you said” the entire class laughed while Umbridge turned the same shade pink as her skirt

“Detention!”

Umbridge’s shrilly voice echoed through Y/n’s head as she wandered through the busy halls of Hogwarts. I guarantee she isn’t the reason Hogwarts is considered the best wizarding school in the world

Clumsily enough, Y/n didn’t realize there was a slight step in one of the corridors and fell right into someone “Watch it you oaf”

Y/n not so gracefully caught herself from falling and looked up at the boy “I’d say the same thing to you” she then tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear “There’s plenty of space in this hallway, consider yourself honored that I bumped into you of all people”

That certainly caught a few looks from passerby’s “Oi, do you know who you’re talking to?” One of his bigger friends asked

Of course she knew that was Draco Malfoy, but if she were to keep up this act, she had to be believable “No, should I?”

The blonde scoffed “But let me guess, you know who Potter is?” The golden trio stopped and glared at the blonde

Y/n let out a loud sigh and shook her head “I honestly don’t know nor care for whoever Potter is” she swore she could hear a pen drop “I don’t care for popularity status’s, or wealth status, or blood status, I’m just here…until I’m not” she loosened the tie that strangled her “I’m glad you all enjoyed the show, but if you’ll all excuse me, I have to find my way to potions” it wasn’t until she took her dramatic bow that she noticed the golden trio

“Draco aren’t you going to do something?” Pansy questioned but the blonde stayed quiet. He was too stunned to speak, it wasn’t every day someone talked back to him

Great, now everyone thinks I’m crazy

Y/n let out a loud groan once she reached an empty staircase

I can’t leave soon enough

Just then, the staircase began moving, which made the girl quickly grip the railing

I can’t tell if this is brilliant or absolutely terrifying

She then took a sneak peak over the railing, immediately regretting it

Terrifying

♡

“Professor I’m so sorry I’m late” Y/n huffed as she barged into the potions classroom. Everyone stared at the girl whose robe hung off her one shoulder and her tie barely hung around her neck “The staircase kept moving on me” she chuckled while yanking the potions book out of her tote bag “I can’t lie, that’s pretty fucking cool”

“Ten points from Hufflepuff for your tardiness and fifteen for your foul use of language”

Y/n then scanned the area for an empty seat “Apologies” she told him while sliding over to her spot “This school is just so much bigger than what I thought and I need a map! And-”

“Another five points for interrupting my class” Snape interrupted her rambling

“I’m sorry professor I-”

“Another five points for back talking”

“I-” Snape held up his hand and Y/n slumped in her seat in defeat

“Don’t worry” her seat mate whispered “Snape’s always like that”

She then blew the hair from out of her face “Don’t meet your hero’s they say” she mumbled while flipping her book open

“Hero?” She slowly sat up in her spot “You really must not be from here”

She then turned to the boy next to her “Y/n L/n”

Her heart quickly sunk “Harry Potter” just my luck huh “Where are you from?”

“America” the boy looked up at the board before turning his attention back to her “You’re a long way from there”

Y/n let out a scoff “Yeah, you have no idea” she then covered her face with her hands “I’m sorry…about earlier”

“Sorry for what?” He asked “You’ve got guts for standing up to Malfoy”

“Yeah, but I sounded like a complete asshole” she moved a few of her fingers to take a peak at the green eyed boy “Sorryyyy”

Harry shook his head with a smile “Don’t be, it’s nice to finally have someone not point and stare at me”

She then moved her hands and tilted her head “You’re really famous around here huh?”

The boy let out a soft sigh “Not for the right reasons”

Being put on a pedestal your entire life must be exhausting, especially when the whole fate of the wizarding world rested on your shoulders “I’m sorry to hear”

Harry shook his head once again “Don’t be sorry, it’s not your burden to carry”

♡

“She’s only been here a day and she’s already costing us all our points!” A Hufflepuff whined

It had only been a day and nearly every fifth year began talking about her. Everyone (except the Hufflepuffs) admired her nonchalant attitude, they were impressed with how smart she was, and most importantly, she had a personality that drew you in.

Y/n was heavily under the impression that she was intimidating because no one dared speak with her at lunch, but they definitely talked about her.

“She’s arrogant” Ron tells Harry and Hermione “I mean causing a scene like that on your first day?”

“She’s probably stressed” Harry defends her “Moving to a new country, having everyone constantly stare at you”

“You should’ve heard the way she talked to Umbridge this morning” Neville added

“Why are you defending her?” Ron questioned “Do you fancy her or something?”

“I don’t see how” Hermione mindlessly added on “She speaks so highly of you” a loud gasp was heard and everyone turned to the Hufflepuff table

Pansy Parkinson had just dumped an entire pitcher of pumpkin juice on Y/n “Maybe now you’ll learn to respect Draco you dirty mutt”

Y/n slowly stood from her spot and calmly wiped the liquid off her face “Maybe I will when he doesn’t send his lap dog to fight his own battles” Pansy went to pounce on her but with the flick of her two fingers, Pansy quickly flew backwards “This day just gets better and better!” She mumbled sarcastically while grabbing her bag

♡

“Why don’t we try again”

“Why don’t you try hiring teachers that don’t resort to torturing students as punishment?” Y/n snapped back

It hadn’t even been a full week and yet, she was done with the Hogwarts experience. The constant stares, three detentions back to back, and harassment from Slytherins. One more minute and she might blow someone to smithereens.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a delinquent, you wouldn’t be punished” Snape drawls and Y/n rolls her eyes

“We’re not getting anywhere!” She pulls her hair in frustration “I’m not even going to London anymore! I’m just ending up somewhere around the school”

“That doesn’t mean we should give up” Mcgonagall tells her “Again” Y/n let’s out a groan in frustration “Like it or not miss L/n, this isn’t your time. You being here compromises our future, your future. And if we stop now, life as you know it might never exist”

With one last pout, Y/n takes the potion out of Snapes hands and chugs it “Ready when you are” she muttered in disgust

Flitwick casts the spell without a moment’s hesitation, sending Y/n into another whirlwind of absolute hell.

Y/n fell into a chair, notes flying everywhere, many weird looks and whispers were shared amongst other students. The library, great

Well that’s another failed trial and a waste of time

She slowly collected her notes that were sprawled out on the table

“Didn’t think you knew how to read” Y/n moved the hair out of her face to reveal a cocky Draco

“Here to dump more liquid over my head?” She asked without looking up from her notes “I thought that was your girlfriends job?”

Draco sneered “She’s not my girlfriend”

“Oh, so she’s another one of your brainless goons” Draco rolled his eyes

“They’re not my goons”

“So they’re your friends” Y/n shook her head “You choosing to be friends with them is…a very bold decision”

Draco crossed his arms“You have a smart mouth, you know that right?”

She shrugs her shoulders “I’ve been told on occasion or two”

He gently picks up her hand “Maybe if you learned to shut it, you wouldn’t have this”

Y/n quickly snatched it back “Or maybe that old toad shouldn’t be torturing students”

Draco looked around before leaning down towards her ear “You know if you were friends with me, this would never happen”

Y/n rolls her eyes “Oh you’re just that popular huh?” She asked sarcastically and he shrugs his shoulders with a smirk

“I’ve got quite the influence around here”

With one last raise of the eyebrows, Y/n stands from her spot “Dully noted”

“Wow Malfoy in a library?” They both turned their heads to see the golden trio

“Is studying an uncommon thing here?” Y/n muttered, making Harry quirk an eyebrow

“I’m sorry if some of us learned how to read weaslebe” Ron quickly frowned

“You don’t have your sidekicks Malfoy” Ron sneered “Are you sure you can fend for yourself?”

“Look” Y/n started “I don’t know what you guys have going on, but leave me out of it” she then left the group to figure out what she would do now.

♡

I would rather get hit with crucio than listen to her for another minute

Umbridge did absolutely everything in her power to make sure they didn’t actually learn spells, which seemed to irritate everyone. She could understand reading a few passages, but writing it three times afterwards to retain the information?

Suddenly a wad of paper hits the back of her head.

With an irritated sigh, she slowly turned around to see who looked guilty. There had only been one person looking at her, and she can’t say she was surprised.

“Open it” Draco mouthed and she slowly complied

Slytherin party tonight I’ll pick you up at eight

Y/n crinkled the paper back up and continued to stare out the window rather than do whatever assignment Umbridge assigned

Another note hit her head

Don’t ignore me

Being surrounded around a bunch of teenagers that didn’t like her honestly sounded like a blast, but getting home before she was stuck taking OWLS sounded like it was in her better interest

“Passing notes are we?” Y/n slowly looked up from her textbook to see Umbridge staring down at her “Fifty points from Hufflepuff for disrupting class”

Y/n quickly sat up with anger “But I didn’t do anything!”

“Another fifteen for raising your voice!” Y/n slowly deflated in her seat “You should know that you need to respect your elders” Y/n wished she could just slap that smug smile off her face. Y/n glared down at the note on her desk stupid parties, stupid Slytherins, stupid school, and stupid teachers. The note burst into flames, causing an uproar from the class “MISS L/N!”

“I didn’t do anything!” She lied

“To cause such disruption-”

“My wands not even out!”

“DETENTION!”

♡

Y/n rubbed her hand as she listened to Snape describe the newest potion they’d be learning. She was completely over it, she couldn’t get home soon enough.

“You’re doing that wrong” Y/n muttered once taking a glance at Harry’s potion

“How?” He questioned “I’m doing everything the book is telling me”

Y/n sat up to peer over into his cauldron “You can always tell if a potion is brewed correctly by its look and smell”

“Correct” Snape confirmed “Five points to Hufflepuff”

Harry looks down with a huff “So what did I do wrong?”

With a flick of her wand, Harry’s potion disappeared “Show me what you’re doing” Y/n lazily watched the boy brewed the potion until he goes to grab a handful of dragon scales “Wait” she grabs his wrist “It’s too early” she slowly lets go of his arm “Mix it until it turns green”

Harry eyes the potion before turning to her “Looks pretty green to me”

Y/n rolls her eyes “That’s a forest green, we’re looking for Granny Smith green” as Harry began to stir the potion, it grew lighter in color, making him smile with excitement “Adding the dragon scales before fully activating troll bogeys will cancel all effects of the potion” once it turned the desired shade of green, Y/n slid over the basket of dragon scales

“You’re really good at this” Y/n lazily shrugged her shoulders

“Potions is about the only thing I’m good at”

Harry let’s out a small yawn “I doubt that’s true” she watched as the boy rubbed his eyes and tilted her head in confusion

“Are you not getting any sleep?” She asked “This is probably the fifth time you’ve yawned in the past ten minutes”

The boy nods while meeting her eyes “I keep having these nightmares” he shakes his head in dismissal “I know, it’s pathetic-”

“Not at all” she tells him while laying her head down on the desk “I used to have frequent nightmares about my father” she admitted “He went mad when me mum left him, she moved to London to continue working on new spells she was creating. My father thought that if he could invent something better, it would win her over and she would come back home….but the more I wrote to her and the happier she sounded, the more it broke him. He was obsessed…and I was just a kid…jealous that he spent all his time on some spell. So I went to his study and burnt all of his work in hopes he’d realize that she wasn’t coming back, that he was the reason she didn’t want to come back. My father was outraged, so completely out of his mind that he tried using the killing curse on me. I mean I was lucky you know, the spell bounced off the mirror and hit him…but sometimes I dream about if it did hit me, or if he hit me with the cruciatis curse” Y/n slowly sat up “Since I clearly wasn’t getting any sleep, I just spent all my time brewing potions” she quickly jumped up “Harry don’t let the potion scorch! Keep stirring it!”

Harry did as he was told and nodded “Right, I’m sorry”

“Don’t be” she shrugged her shoulders “Snape already graded my potion”

“No I mean about your father”

Y/n sucks the back of her teeth “Don’t worry about it, I didn’t mean to spew my traumatic back story at you” she helps him bottle the potion and clean his mess “What I was trying to get at was I’m a master of crafting a dreamless potion and the draught of peace” the bell rung and everyone quickly filed out of the room “If you ever wanna give it a try for one night of peace, just let me know”

Once Y/n tossed her book in her bag, she shuffled out of the classroom along with the others, but it didn’t take Harry long to make up his mind “Y/n wait!” Right before Y/n was able to make it to the stairs out of the dungeon, Harry grabbed onto her hand “Do you think you could craft me a couple of those potions?”

Y/n looked around before taking a step down “These are powerful potions Harry” she warns him “Stripping away emotions for a good nights rest, it can be dangerous, trust me” Harry slowly lets go of her hand “That being said, I’ll make you one of each. One to soothe your anxiety and one to get you a full eight hours of rest”

“Anything is better than nothing” there was a lost look in Harry’s eyes that Y/n couldn’t help but feel bad for him. Sleepless nights, people telling you you’re crazy, isolating you, she’d probably go mad too

“Don’t tell me you’re hanging around Potter” an arm plops down around her shoulders “Trust me, that cry baby will hurt your social status” Harry gritted his teeth in annoyance while Draco and the others laughed

“Look Malfoy! He’s about to run off and cry in his pillow!” They continued to laugh while Harry stomped up the stairs

“Harry….” you go to chase after him but Draco stops you

“Leave him, I’d imagine he wouldn’t want a girl to see him cry” that’s when Y/n finally shoved his arm off of her

“You’re such a prick Draco” she pushed past the others and left the dungeons

♡

Y/n spent the rest of the week crafting said potions for Harry, completely disregarding the more important task at hand. Surprisingly enough, Harry was almost impossible to find these days.

I could just give it to him next week

Y/n huffed as she readjusted her scarf. Someone mentioned seeing Harry at hogsmead but she searched everywhere for the boy for hours, it began to feel like a wild goose chase. Her gloves began to feel useless along with the three pair of socks she wore, the crunchy snow slowly seeped into her boots and the misery hit her like a truck.

He’ll be fine getting it next week

“Y/n?” The girl whipped around to see the boy she frantically searched for

“Harry” she huffed out “Where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you?”

A smile spread across his rosy cheeks “You have?”

She nodded while reaching into her pocket “I wanted to give you these” she hands him the small vials “I didn’t want to make it look suspicious to lingering eyes”

Harry’s heart swelled with adornment “Thank you Y/n” he looks back up at her “I really appreciate it”

Y/n shrugs her shoulders “It’s no biggie” she sniffled a bit “I would want the same, yknow?”

Harry couldn’t keep his eyes off the girl. The way the snow clung to her hair, the way the snowy background made her big soft eyes look even warmer, the way the color pink slightly dusted across her face “Do you fancy Malfoy?” He blurted out

Y/n scrunched up her nose “No, why would you say that?”

Harry felt rather embarrassed by the sudden outburst “You just…you’re always around him and you avoid me like the plague” The girl stood there stunned, not knowing what to say. She’d been trying to figure out a way home, studying for pointless tests (especially the OWLS), not to mention the constant detentions Umbridge kept giving her, she didn’t realize she was isolating herself from her friends “I’m sorry, it’s just with Umbridge and Voldemort returning and Dumbledore ignoring me, I’ve been stressed”

“That Umbridge is definitely something else huh?” Harry looked down with a smile “If I’m being honest, my hands are just as full as yours, sorry if it seemed like I was avoiding you” and with that, she shrugged her shoulders and left the boy standing there

“Y/n wait!” Harry called out while chasing after her

Y/n stopped in her tracks and turned around to face the boy “Oh, I uh needed to grab a few books from the library, but you’re welcome to join if you’d like”

Harry shakes his head “I think what we both need is a distraction” she quirked a brow and the green eyed boy grabbed her hand and dragged her away from the school.

“Harry” Y/n nervously watched as he grabbed his broom “Is now a bad time to mention I have a deathly fear of heights?”

Harry held his cheeky grin as he mounted the broom “I promise, you’ll love it” the very second Y/n climbed onto the broom, Harry took off which made the girl loudly scream in fear

“HARRY POTTER YOU PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW!” The boy laughed and lifted them higher into the air “You’re MAD”

“Don’t you trust me?” He asked but frowned when she stayed silent. That’s when he got the brilliant idea to dive hundreds of feet out of the air

“HARRY!” She screamed while holding onto his waist for dear life

“You said to put you down” she could hear the cheeky grin in his voice

“I don’t want to die Harry!” She called out while squeezing her eyes shut and laying her head against his back

“Do you trust me?” He repeated and she nodded her head

“If putting my trust in you is the last thing I do, I’ll haunt you in the after life Potter”

Harry quickly pulled the broom back up “Sounds like Malfoy’s rubbing off on you” Harry sped off on the broom again, making Y/n squeal “Aw come on, you can’t tell me you aren’t having just a bit of fun”

Y/n shook her head “I’m sorry if my screams of terror made you think otherwise” she retorted, Harry couldn’t help but laugh.

Where have you been all my life?

“Alright alright” Harry finally lands onto the pier of the now icy black lake, smiling to himself as their legs finally touch ground.

“Oh my” Y/n peeled her eyes back open sighing with relief “Harry Potter, you’re absolutely mad” A bittersweet smile formed on Harry’s lips once her grasp on his torso loosened “You know, I think if we were supposed to be in the air, we’d be born as birds”

Harry shakes his head while turning around “I get it, you’re afraid of heights” he watched as she tries to straighten her hair out “But at least you were able to forget about everything for a few minutes”

“Yeah, because I was worried about falling to my death” but he’s right “Thanks Harry” she gave a sheepish smile while watching the snow fall even harder across the lake “We should probably head back though”

“Wait” Y/n gave a blank stare as Harry’s heart pounded out of his chest “I’m getting a bunch of students together and teaching them how to defend themselves since Umbridge won’t” Harry blurted out

“Oh that’s-”

“Would you like to join?” His heart thumped in his ears as he awaited her answer “We have a secret location that’s perfect for the spells we’d be practicing” Harry couldn’t explain it but he felt like he could tell her anything. The girl that didn’t care that he was the boy that lived and didn’t stare at him like he was some freak every year. The girl that wasn’t afraid to speak her mind or stand up for herself. The girl who he swore was just as smart as Hermione, if not smarter. The girl who always seemed to make him forget about the horrors of reality.

“Why not?” she replied while shrugging her shoulders “I prefer performing spells rather than reading about them” a giant smile formed on the boys face

♡

It was a simple spell and it frustrated her to no end that she couldn’t preform it. As Y/n’s hands shook in anger, she decided to put her wand away and grab her book, the last thing she needed was to throw a tantrum in front of everyone.

Snap your wrist to preform incantation

She read over the same page about a hundred times and yet, she had no luck

Maybe I really am only good at potions

A frown made its way onto her face as she paced back and forth in her small corner. The other spells seemed rather easy, but of course the one defensive spell they teach gave her the most trouble.

Maybe if I’m lucky I’ll be gone before Harry drags me to war

“Alright, that’s enough for today” Harry announced “Great job everyone, you’re making excellent progress”

“Same time next week” Ron tells them as they all file out

Unfortunately for Y/n, she was stopped before she could make her escape “What happened?” Harry asked her with a head tilt “You separated yourself from the group”

She rubs her eyes “I know” she then shook her head “Im just a very slow learner and I was getting extremely frustrated”

A small smile played on his lips “I thought you liked preforming spells rather than reading about them?”

She playfully rolls her eyes “Whatever Harold, I’ll just learn it next week”

“I could teach you” Harry quickly spat out to stop her from leaving “Show me what you’re doing”

With a slight moment to think about it, she dropped her bag onto the ground and pulled her wand out. Once Harry took a few steps back, she took her stance and aimed at the dummy “Reducto!” Not that she was surprised, but nothing happened.

Harry nodded once she turned around to face him with disappointment “I think it’s your hand movement” he walks over to stand in front of her “You’re jabbing your wand”

“No” she pouts “I’m flicking my wrist like it’s telling me”

Without thinking, Harry gently took her hand in his own “You’re flicking your wrist downwards” he moved her hand up and down “Try rolling your wrist in a scooping motion ” after showing her what to do, his grip loosened but his touch definitely lingered.

“Reducto!” The dummy exploded upon impact causing a big smile to make its way to Y/n’s face, a smile that Harry slowly grew to love “I guess you are a good teacher” she tells him while turning to face him

“You guess?”

She shrugged her shoulders with a cheeky grin “I guess”

♡

Y/n felt more confident now that she knew what she was doing, which was perfect since they were dueling this week.

Once everyone congratulated Hermione for absolutely humiliating Ron, a hand gently tapped Y/n’s shoulder “Why don’t you try?” Harry asked and she shook her head

“I just learned the spell” she turned to look at him “I don’t want to embarrass myself”

Their eyes locked onto each other’s, Harry’s green eyes were swimming with a devious glint “Hermione, Y/n would like to go next!” He called out, causing the girl to slap his shoulder

“Hermione?” She whisper shouted “Do you want people to laugh at me?”

Harry shook his head “I’m helping you prepare for the real deal” Y/n awkwardly walks over to the witch and everyone cleared way

“C’mon! You got this Hermione!”

Y/n anxiously readied her wand as everyone cheered the witch on. Sure she was good at studying, but actual spell casting was her downfall.

There was a determined look in Hermione’s eyes, like she had something to prove to Y/n.

“What are they waiting for?” A student whispered and Hermione used this distraction as her chance to attack

“Stupify!”

“Protego!” A light shield covered Y/n and blocks the attack

I didn’t think that would work

“When did we learn that?” Someone else asked upsetting the witch in front of her

“Stupify!”

“Protego!” Y/n’s heart thumped out of her chest from the last minute save. However, Hermione grew annoyed that every and any spell she threw at her, Y/n would block

“It’s not much of a duel if you don’t attack” she huffed while readying herself. Nothing life threatening, just throw something at her “Stupify!”

“Expelliarmus!”

A stream of red shot out of Y/n’s wand while a yellow one came from Hermione’s, forming loud gasps and awes from the crowd as each color fought for dominance. Y/n had no idea how she did it but knew that she couldn’t let go now. Hermione knew she couldn’t stop now, she couldn’t let one surprise stop her victory.

But it was too much for both of them to handle, this was new ground and it was almost terrifying. Hermione’s wand jerked to the left, which made the spell hit her full on. Not only did her spell send Hermione and her wand flying, but the Stupify Hermione casted hit someone else.

“Harry!” Y/n quickly whipped around to see the boy laying on the ground. She quickly pushed through the crowd and kneeled at his side

“Harry are you alright?” She inspected the boy as he held his shoulder “Where does it hurt?”

“Harry” Hermione huffed with regret “I’m so sorry” she apologized

“It’s alright” he told her as he sat up “I’m fine” that wince said otherwise “That was brilliant you two”

“Harry we need to get you to the hospital wing” Hermione urged but he shook his head

“We would have to explain how I got hurt to miss Pomfrey” he then stood up “Besides, I’m fine, really”

“If you’re worried about Pomfrey telling Umbridge, I can heal you” everyone turned to Y/n “It’ll be easy” one shrug of the shoulders was enough to win Harry over “I can brew a quick potion and put some ointment for the pain and bruising, he’ll be perfectly fine tomorrow”

“You barely know how to cast spells” Ron tells her “Why would we trust you with him?”

What have I done to get on Ron and Hermione’s bad side?

Y/n then looked over to Harry “Do you trust me?”

Harry didn’t hesitate to nod his head “I’ll meet you guys back at the common room” he reassured them “Continue on without me, I’ll be fine” Hermione gave Harry one last apologetic look before he turned to Y/n “Shall we?”

From the way Harry described the pain, it might’ve just been a dislocated shoulder, but that didn’t stop him from acting extra whiny.

“We just have to get to my room okay?” She told him as she knocked on the large barrels in front of the Hufflepuff entrance

“What happens if you knock on the wrong barrel?”

She turned to him as the door unlocked “You get sprayed with vinegar” she jerked her head towards the door

“That’s so-”

“Awful” she finished for him “I was in for a pleasant surprise my first day” she led him around the cozy room, earning weird glances from lingering Hufflepuffs “I had to have a ghost tell me which barrels to knock on because I was drenched”

She finally came across a single room on the first floor and opened the door for him “How did you get an entire room to yourself?”

She shrugged her shoulders while closing the door behind him “I think it’s because I started so late” or probably because they thought I’d be gone after the first week and didn’t want me interacting with too many students “Please, sit” she conjures a cauldron and a bunch of random ingredients begin floating in the air “Can you take off your shirt?” Harry’s face flashed a bright red “I just want to make sure there’s no broken bones” the boy goes to lift up his shirt but immediately winced in pain “Here” she sat down on the edge of the bed “Let me” her fingers gently hook underneath his vest and she’s able to remove it without causing much pain to his shoulder. Once removed, she then unbuttons most of the buttons on his shirt so it would just fall off his shoulder, revealing a giant dark purple bruise on his very pale skin “Let me know when it hurts okay?” She gently pads her fingers around his chest, arm, collarbone, and shoulder of course. Harry on the other hand couldn’t breathe, as if he were in a trance that he never wanted to wake up from.

That was until Y/n shoved his shoulder back into place, causing the boy to erupt in a painful groan “Blimey Y/n!”

“Did that hurt?” Her eyes finally flicked up to meet up with his

Those beautiful orbs of hers, he could swim in them all day “You were brilliant today” he whispered, afraid that speaking too loud would scare her away

“That was absolutely terrifying” she admits “You got hurt”

His eyes flicker down to her lips “Good thing I have a great doctor”

Y/n shook her head with a smile “How convenient for you” she then stands up to make her potion “I figured since I was slow reflex wise, I’d be better off as a healer. So I spent most of my time learning how to make medicines”

“I never taught anyone how to use Protego”

A small smile played on her lips as she mixed the ingredients together “I used to want to be an auroa” she answered “You can read about these spells all you want, but it’s completely different actually preforming them and using them on other people” once the potion turned the right shade of orange, she scooped a cup out for Harry to drink “And if I can’t immediately do it, I think I’ve done something wrong and no longer want to do it” she sits down next to him and hands him the pumpkin shaped cup

“Y/n I don’t think you realize how brilliant of a witch you are” Harry tells her softly

“Yeah yeah” she urged him to take the cup from her “If I had a bit of patience, I could thrive in one subject” Harry winced at the bitter taste but drinks it nonetheless “How bad would you say the pain is?” She asked while leaning over to grab a small jar of ointment

“7.5” he answers quickly “Maybe even an eight” with a nod, she unscrews the top and uses three fingers to scoop some out “Maybe you could teach me a few spells one day” his voice gets caught in his throat as her fingers spread the cool gel over his skin

“The student becomes the teacher” she smiled but grew concerned at his silence “Are you alright Harry?” the boy couldn’t speak so he opted on nodding “You don’t have to lie to me” she tells him “I haven’t made the potion in so long, if you feel funny, you need to tell me”

Oh he definitely felt funny… “How often did you make the potion?” He finally speaks up

“My friends were troublemakers, both witches and muggles” she answered while grabbing more ointment “However, my muggle friends did absolutely anything they could to be in harms way. I couldn’t exactly tell them I was giving them a healing potion or rubbing magical ointment to get rid of the pain, but when I was younger, I used to kiss their injury and tell them I did it to make it better. And the next day, they’d be completely fine” she then puts the lid back on the jar “They would joke and say my kisses had magical healing abilities but I would just say it was the “organic smoothie” I made them”

Harry couldn’t breathe, he swore she could hear his heart beating out of his chest but all he could do was blurt out eight words “Will you kiss it to make it better?” Y/n slowly looked up at the boy who burned red

“Honestly Harry” she playfully shook her head while leaning over to put the ointment back on the night stand ���You’re such a baby” she then leans down to gently kiss his collarbone “And now my lips are gonna go numb” she wipes the ointment off her lips and stands up to finish cleaning “Come on, let’s get you out of here before someone tells Umbridge I have a boy in my room”

♡

It’s not that Harry purposefully hurt himself, but ever since he found out Y/n was good at healing, he’d been purposefully hurting himself.

It was all minor injuries, things that could easily be fixed at the hospital wing, or even a weeks worth of rest. However, why go to madam Pomfrey when he could get a kiss from Y/n?

It’s not that Harry wanted to be hit by the bludger, but it did work in his favor. He would go back to Y/n, where she would scold him while he marveled at how brilliant she was, and she would give him a kiss. Besides, he’d been “injured” almost every day for the past two weeks. If he came back with another small cut, she might catch on.

Harry was knocked off his broom and nearly fell to his death if it weren’t for Hermione’s quick thinking. A time out was called to address his injuries but Harry could only think of one thing.

“Harry!”

“Are you alright mate?”

Harry nods while slowly sitting up “It was worth it” he strained

“What? Being hit straight with a bludger and falling hundreds of feet out the air?” Harry gave the girl a look before opening his hand to reveal the snitch

“HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! GRYFINDOR WINS!!” The stadium goes into an uproar while a determined Harry picked himself up

“We really need to get you to the hospital wing” Hermione tries to put his arm around her shoulder but he shrugs her off

“The hospital wing will be full” he tells her “I’ll just go to Y/n, her dorm is closer than the hospital wing. Besides, the pain is manageable” he was in excruciating pain

Hermione gave Ron a look and the ginger shrugged his shoulders knowing exactly why he preferred seeing her “Alright” Hermione finally agreed “Do you need any help with anything?”

Harry nodded “Could you take my broom back for me?”

Y/n would’ve attended the game but Mcgonagall had been on her arse to find a way back home…not that she knew anything about quidditch anyway. I’m sure he’ll win

Her concentrated thoughts came to an end once a knock came from her door “Come in” she called out which revealed a beat up and bruised Harry “Oh my-” she quickly jumped out of bed and ran to his side “Harry what happened?”

The books and notes flew off her bed so she could gently lay him down “Bludger came after me” he tells her “Knocked me straight off my broom” he hissed

Y/n sucks her teeth “I don’t understand how quidditch is safe for students to play” she tried removing his armor but immediately stopped when he let out a loud groan “Harry, I think you should go to the hospital wing”

Harry quickly shook his head “It’s full at the moment” her hand stopped on his jersey “It’ll be okay, I trust you”

She knew the boy was stubborn and lugging him across the castle wasn’t the best idea, so she let out a soft sigh “Did you guys at least win?” Her eyes flicker up to his and he nods

“I caught the snitch” her hand gently makes its way to his face, which he gladly leans into

“I’m sure you did” she tells him in a baby voice before standing up “I have no clue what that or a bludger is but I’ll put the ointment on you so you’re not as miserable”

“I could never be miserable around you” Y/n stops and looks down at him with a quirked brow

“I can tell you’re in a lot of pain Harry” she gently sits next to him and unscrews the jar “Extra pale skin, excessive sweat, quickened heart rate, dilated eyes” she lifts his Jersey up and was completely mortified to see the black bruises dance along his chest “It’s unbelievable how reckless you men are” she nagged while scooping ointment out

“The bludger hit me” he defended but she still held her scowl “I’m fine Y/n” she didn’t say a word but continued frown “Hey, look at me” his hand stops her from rubbing the gel on him which quickly makes her look up “I’m fine”

She was first to look away, obviously still mad that he would play a sport so dangerous but she could feel his lingering eyes “Once the pain subsides, I’ll check to make sure there’s no broken bones” she explained while putting the ointment away “But with the chest plate, your ribs might just be bruised” if this is how hard it hit him with gear on, I’d hate to see what it could do without it

“Do you want me to take my shirt off?” Y/n’s eyes darted to his “So it’ll be easier…to access my chest” Harry wanted to punch himself for sounding like an idiot

“I mean…” she shrugged her shoulders “It’ll help but I don’t want to put you through anymore pain” Harry then goes to rip his clothes off but Y/n stops him with a laugh “It’s fine Harold” she gently takes his hands in her “I appreciate the consideration though” she then let’s go of his hands to inspect his chest again “Hmmm…” her fingers drew circles around his bruises “I think I have just the potion for this” she then jumps from her spot and searched her cupboard “I think…this might help” she tosses a bottle at Harry which he easily catches “Bottoms up”

The vile liquid poured down his throat and she gives him a cheeky smile “What on earth was that?” She then sits next to the boy and lifts up his jersey

“Well would you look at that” she smiled while putting the jersey down “No broken bones, bruised ribs” she looks up to meet his eyes “Just like I told you” a frown covered Harry’s face as he knew what would happen now “I ought to make you some of this ointment since you wind up hurt every other day…you might be a wee bit sore but that should subside in like three days” she tilts her head in confusion “What’s wrong? Does something else hurt?”

Harry shook his but lifted up his jersey “Can you kiss it to make it feel better?” Y/n gave him a small smile

“You truly are pathetic Harold, I hope you know that” she leans down towards his chest, inhaling his deep musky scent before finally letting her soft plump lips kiss him. Her hair tickled his bare skin but Harry didn’t mind, he couldn’t breathe, he didn’t dare to. But this time she did notice his breath hitch “Did I hurt you?” She quickly asked while looking up at him but he shakes his head

“You could never hurt me” y/n rolls her eyes

“You’re too cheesy”

♡

The happiest memory huh?

Y/n glumly watched as everyone conjured their patronus. Yes, it was a hard spell for some but she couldn’t even think of a happy memory to even try.

“Excellent work Ginny!” Harry congratulated with a smile

“That’s so cool!”

“Luna!”

The blonde girl stopped to think for a moment “Expecto Patronum!” Everyone awed at the rabbit that hopped around the room

“Y/n” Harry walked over to her

“Pass” she lazily replied and he frowns

“Reading about the spell is nowhere as beneficial as trying, just try”

Y/n looked around at the others “Can’t think of any happy memories, just come back to me later”

“You don’t need to cast a full body patronus” he tells her while grabbing her hand “Just think of the last time you were happy” Harry slowly let go of her hand as she pondered

The first thing she could think of was Harry flying her around on his broom, his contagious laugh echoed in her ears while she screamed loud enough that people in Hogsmead could hear her. A small smile played on the corners of her lips “Expecto patronum!”

A hazy light blue shot out of her wand and a small body began to form “Brilliant” Y/n turned to meet his gaze “You’re absolutely brilliant” but the moment they shared was cut short due to the room shaking. Y/n’s patronus completely disappeared once the room shook again.

Harry protectively stepped in front of Y/n as everyone cautiously looked around. Without a moments notice, a couple of students went flying along with debris.

Umbridge proudly stood at the hole in the wall while Draco dragged Cho to the front as a trophy. Y/n knew something like this was bound to happen, Umbridge couldn’t have been that dumb.

Everyone filed out of the room of requirement and into Umbridge’s classroom to endure two hours of torture. It angered Y/n, being disciplined, tortured because they wanted to learn how to protect themselves. If she didn’t know any better, she’d assume Umbridge was working for Voldemort.

Y/n was used to the pain, she’d been in detention at least twice a week for the entire school year. What did bother her however was hearing the kids sniffle and muffle their cries from the pain. They didn’t deserve it, hell, none of them did, all it did was add fuel to the flame.

“It hurts” a young blonde boy cried to the Weasley twins

He’s just a kid

Y/n reached into her robes and pulled out a familiar tub of ointment “Hey” she gently called out to the boy “I’ve got something that’ll make the pain go away” she knew she wasn’t the most liked, especially from Ron or Hermione’s friends, but attempting to offer comfort was better than nothing “I use it on Harry all the time, look” she opened the jar and grabbed a glob of the medicine “It works almost instantly” after a small not of approval, Y/n rubbed the ointment all over his hand “See”

The boy looked up with much gratitude “You’re right” he sniffled “I don’t feel anything anymore!”

“Hey” Fred peered over the boys shoulder “Do you think we could borrow some of that?”

Y/n quickly nods “Of course” she rubs the gel over their hands and the twins smile

“Bloody brilliant!” George exclaimed “Ron, Hermione, Y/n here has something to help with the pain!”

Soon, a small group began to huddle around her, curious to see what the chatter was about “You crafted this?” Hermione asked once she tried it

Y/n nods and the witch furrows her eyebrows “Then you’re a bloody genius” Ron interrupted while marveling at his now pain free hand

“There isn’t anything about this in any medical books” there isn’t now, but there will be in approximately fifteen years

“I…made it myself” Y/n lied, she had to lie, it might hurt the future more if she didn’t

“Here, try this” they all passed the can around and for once, Y/n felt like she wasn’t the black sheep

“Hey” Harry whispered

“Hey” the boy gently grabbed her hand

“You’re always fixing me up, why don’t I help you for once?” Her big orbs softened once they met his green ones

“Yeah…okay sure” her voice as equally soft, terrified to alert the others. Harry smoothed the gel over the scar etched onto her hand

“Thank you for this” he tells her “For keeping their hope”

Y/n shrugged her shoulders “They don’t deserve it, frog face will get what’s coming to her”

The group cleared out, leaving just the two of them alone in the hallway, which made Y/n grateful because Harry lifted her hand to his lips and gently kissed it

“All better” he whispered so softly that a mouse could barely hear it

“Thanks Harry” she could feel her cheeks heat up “We’d better get going before we get caught breaking one of Umbridge’s ridiculous rules”

♡

Luckily for Y/n, she was able to convince Mcgonagall and Snape to skip her OWLS, deeming it a use of her time that she could be using to figure out a way out of there. However, Mcgonagall wouldn’t let her get off that easy. Yes she got to sleep in while everyone took their exams, but she had to regroup with Snape to asses her progress later that evening.

“Harry!” Y/n whisper shouted “What are you doing here?”

Harry cautiously looked around the classroom “I’ve been looking all over for you”

“Snape agreed to help me with something” she tells him while frantically looking outside the potion’s classroom “He’ll be here any moment so you have to-”

“I broke my nose” Y/n stops and lets out an annoyed huff

She didn’t bother asking how he broke his nose or why he didn’t just go to the hospital wing, she just pulled out her wand and flicked it at his nose. Harry winced in pain but she just grabbed his arm to drag him out the room

“We can discuss how this happened later, but right now you need to leave” Harry frowned in disappointment, the only time he’s spoken with her was at their meeting, which Umbridge had to ruin “Oh” she held the sides of his face and placed a gentle kiss on his nose “There” she takes a step back “Will you leave now?” She eagerly asked with a smile but Harry just gave her a blank stare “Harold”

“Y-yes” as if all motor functions turned on all at once “Later” there was so much he wanted to tell her, so many things happening at once, but he didn’t want her to worry about him nor come with.

Harry stumbled out of the classroom to make his way to Umbridge’s office, bumping into Snape on the way

“Potter” he spat “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Harry quickly shook his head “I was just on my way- I’m sorry” Snape frowned when the stuttering boy sped away. He knew something was going on, and he was determined to figure it out.

Snape entered his classroom to see Y/n reading over notes, and it was almost like he finally placed the last piece of the puzzle together “Is there any reason in particular that Potters a blushing fool down the hall?” Snape asked but Y/n quickly shook her head

“No idea” she then rips her notebook open “Now you said you made different variations of the potion, as did I so we could compare our results”

Snape walks over to his shelf of potion ingredients and stops “Would you be okay being stuck here?”

She tilts her head in confusion “What do you mean professor? I think we’re close to figuring this out”

Snape let’s out a sigh “In the events that we can’t figure out a way to send you back to your time, would you be completely disappointed?”

The thought never occurred to her that she might not go home “I mean professor Mcgonagall might be upset, I don’t think she likes me” she shrugs her shoulders “I mean I have no purpose here, no one really likes me, and I can’t do much because I don’t want to interfere with future events”

“I didn’t ask if Mcgonagall would be disappointed” he snapped “I asked if you would”

It was a tough hypothetical question. Magic was far more advanced where she’s from, everything was so much easier “ I might be a little disappointed but… I don’t really have anything in the future” she answered honestly “Both of my parents are dead and I can’t be stuck third wheeling my only friend, that was the whole reason of me taking the potion” images of Harry then flashed in her mind “However, I think I could manage being stuck here if I were around the right people”

Satisfied with your answer, Snape finally turns around “You may be dismissed”

Y/n’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion “But we didn’t-”

“Every variation of the potion I’ve made of the potion results the same, failure” Y/n looks down at her notes but he cuts her off before she could speak “It was very…obvious that they wouldn’t work, none of them turned a lilac color once finished”

“But we haven’t tried it”

Snape hits the top of her head with the notes “Would you rather be stuck in the stone ages where you’ll have absolutely no one?” Y/n pouts and Snape walks over to his office “If anything was wrong, it would be the incantation like you’ve said. Now you are dismissed” Y/n gets up from her stool with a huff but Snape stops in his tracks “And L/n”

She quickly looked over to him “Yes sir?”

“Stay away from Potter”

Her shoulders slumped “I know I know, don’t mess with the future”

“No, he’ll drag you into more trouble than you could imagine”

She never thought Snape was lying, but she figured it was easier said than done. As she walked back to the Hufflepuff dormitory, she thought about how this one school year had been more adventurous than the past three years of her life.

“Harry’s in trouble!” Ron yelled and Y/n quickly turned around

“That was faster than we thought” Neville told the others as Y/n jogged over

“What do you mean Harry’s in trouble?” She cautiously looked around and Ron attempted to hide his annoyance, but failed miserably

“Harry wants to go to the ministry to save his godfather” Luna tells her “But he needs our help”

Neville nodded “It’ll be sending him to his death if he goes alone”

Ron rolls his eyes “It was their idea to ask you to come” he then stubbornly crossed his arms “You don’t have to c-”

“Of course I’ll come!” The words Snape uttered a mere hour ago completely slipped her mind as the group ran to find Harry and Hermione

“How’d you get away?” Hermione asked as they ran into the group

“Puking pastilles” Ginny smiled “It wasn’t pretty”

“I told them I was hungry, wanted some sweets. We found Y/n along the way”

But something wasn’t right…

Y/n couldn’t figure out what’s supposed to happen or not, not everything was written down in the books. This seemed like an obvious trap, but none of them seemed to care. They only knew three defensive spells, one of which only three of them could properly preform.

“Hey” Harry whispered as the rest of the group walked off “Thanks for coming”

Y/n nodded while following the others “I wouldn’t be able so sleep if I just let you go alone” a small smile tugs on her lips “And so I know what kind of potions to brew when you inevitably get hurt”

Harry let’s out a small laugh “Are you going to be okay with flying?” Y/n quickly stopped in her tracks

“Flying?”

The green eyed boy nods “That’s how we decided we’d get to the ministry” Y/n’s eyes widened as she watched the others mount the beasts

She rips her eyes away to turn to Harry “I think I’ll take the floo network”

Harry let out a short laugh “How about you ride with me?” He asked while mounting his own thestrial “That way I can tell you all about how I broke my nose” she honestly couldn’t care less about his nose right now “Do you trust me?” He asks again while holding out his hand

“Oh come on” Ron calls out “We haven’t got all day, you’re either going or you’re not”

But Harry and Y/n couldn’t even hear how irritated Ron was, all they focus on was each other. How his green eyes swam with anticipation and hers flickered with worry.

Death eaters will probably kill me before I die from falling off

Y/n slowly grabbed his hand and jumped onto the creature. Once Y/n’s arms wrapped around his waist and her head leaned onto his shoulder, Harry nodded at the others with a determined nod and quickly took off into the air.

Y/n appreciated the small talk but was absolutely terrified and wanted nothing more than touch ground.

“How did you get out of taking your OWLS?” Harry asked the girl

“I told Snape I didn’t feel good so he told me I could take my exam after hours with him” she quickly spat out “But more importantly, how are you feeling? You passed out? Umbridge slapped you? She threatened to use the cruciatis curse on you?” Of course Harry told her all about it, making sure not to leave a single detail out

♡

“This is it” Harry tells the group as they run down the isles “It has to be here somewhere”

But a single prophecy stuck out to her, causing her to stop in her tracks

Y/n L/n

Why would I have a prophecy?

The curiosity got the best of her as she slowly grabbed the orb off the shelf “Harry?” They all turned to Neville “It has your name on it”

The boy nervously grabbed the orb and let them all listen to the prophecy “Wait…” something isn’t right “Harry!” They all looked up to see a lone death eater approaching them

“Where’s Sirius?” Harry asked with much determination

“You should learn the difference between dreams” he held his wand up to his face “And reality” Lucius Malfoy? “You only saw what the dark lord wanted you to see”

This isn’t good Y/n’s heart anxiously thumped, we need to get out of here

That’s when a sickening laugh echoed throughout the room “Bellatrix Lestrange” Neville muttered

“Harry” Y/n whispered “We need to go”

“Neville Longbottom, is it? How’s mum and dad?”

They all turned to the boy “Better now that they’re about to be revenged!” Harry was quick to hold back the boy

Lucius held his hands out “Now, let’s everyone…calm down”

So stupid…what’s supposed to happen now?

Are we supposed to be here?

Did I change the events of history?

“YOU FILTHY HALFBLOOD” Y/n jumped at the sudden loudness and snapped back to reality of the situation. They were surrounded by death eaters, all with the intent to kill. Seven students against fifteen (that she counted) wanted murderers, but despite it walking into her inevitable death, Y/n trusted Harry with her life. And if Harry wanted to fight, she’d fight for him with her very last breath.

“I’ve waited fourteen years” Harry finally tells them and Y/n takes this as her cue to get into a fighting stance

Lucius sucks his teeth and gives a ‘sincere’ sigh “I know”

“I guess I can wait a little longer” Harry turns to the girl “NOW!”

“Stupify!”

They all began to let spells fly while scattering like rats “Protego!” The spell deflected and Harry was fast to grab Y/n’s hand

“We have to go” she nodded at his determination and ran hand in hand with the boy. Death eaters were everywhere, and if it weren’t for the fact that they wanted the prophecy, they’d probably throw killing curses left and right.

“Levicorpus!” Y/n then bounced the man off the ground and against a shelf “this way” Harry followed her lead and was soon met with the others

“What now?” Neville asked while death eaters closed in on them

“REDUCTO!” The sudden explosion blew a big gust of wind towards them and Y/n turned to the group “I didn’t think that one all the way through” shelves began collapsing whilst prophecies shattered

“Quick!” Harry yelled “Towards the door” the boy yanked Y/n along as they truly ran from death. Being crushed to death didn’t cross Y/n’s mind at all, but it would probably be less painful than being captured.

The group barged through the door and one by one fell to what they believed was their death. Harry pulled Y/n close and wrapped his arms around her, using himself as a safety net. Y/n buried her head into his chest to hide from the horrors of their inevitable death.

But they stopped.

There was no sudden thud, there was no sound of agonizing screaming, the only thing that reminded her that they were alive was the fact that she could feel Harry’s heart beat out of his chest.

Then they hit the ground with a small thud. Y/n rips her eyes open and looks up at the boy “I almost feel as if I should yell at you for telling me I wouldn’t fall to my death”

Harry let out a small chuckle “But you didn’t”

The thought of death eaters being near didn’t bother either of them as they stared into each others eyes “The boy who lived was willing to die to keep me alive” she tilted her head to the left and smiled “I promise the fate of the entire wizarding world is much more important than me”

Harry shook his head “I told you I’d never let you fall to your death and you put your trust in me”

If Y/n could lay on top of Harry all night and just talk to him, she would, but she finally snapped back to reality and climbed off of him

“Well it’s not called the department of mystery’s for no reason” Ron commented while Harry spun around

“Do you hear that?”

Hermione was quick to shake her head “Hear what?”

“It sounds like voices”

She gave the boy a weird look “There’s no voices Harry”

But she was wrong “I can hear them too Harry” Y/n reassured while Luna nodded

“Everyone get behind me!” But it was too late, everyone except Harry was swept up by a death eater and taken hostage

“No one has to die Potter” Lucius told the boy as he jabbed his wand into Y/n’s neck “Just hand over the prophecy and we’ll let everyone go”

So I don’t get crushed to death, fall to my death, I just die by the hands of a Malfoy… maybe I should’ve befriended Draco after all

If the fate of the future lies in my hands, we’re all so screwed, I can’t recall any of these events in any history book

Just then, she was whisked away by an auroa

“Thank Merlin you’re here” she told the woman with purple hair

“Don’t thank us yet” she then zapped the wizard that dared attack them “You need to get to safety”

Y/n nodded

I need to get Harry and I to safety

Y/n ran around the room, watching as aurors and death eaters fight across the room

“Protego” she had no business fighting someone who wanted her dead, so she figured as long as she was able to get to Harry unscathed she could just use offense spells

“Where do ya think you’re goin?”

Barty crouch Jr? Y/n shook her head as the manic man stood before her “Don’t know who you are nor care, Aguamenti!” She sprayed a jet of water at the man, causing him to wipe his face in confusion “Alarte Ascendare!” The man flew into the air and she took this chance to make a run for it

“Avada Kedavra!” Y/n stopped in her tracks and her eyes widened as Sirius was struck by the killing curse oh Harry…

Y/n quickly ran over to Harry and wrapped her arms around the grieving boy. “Harry” she held onto the boy as he screamed “Harry come on we have to-” the boy pushed away from her and chased after the manic woman “HARRY!” She goes to chase after him but someone else holds her back

“I HAVE TO GO” she yelled as she struggled to escape their grasp

“We have to get you to safety” Lupin informed her, Y/n whips around with worry covering her face

“What about Harry?” She asked with teary eyes “He’ll die by himself out there”

“He’s not by himself” he comforted “Now we must hurry”

Y/n knew from that moment forward, she’d be intertwined in this mess and that there was only one way out. She knew she wouldn’t be able to go home without ending this once and for all, she would have to fight in the wizard war to protect her future.

[sparklesdogs]

A Drabble for TF: One

First off: A warning.

This drabble WILL contain spoilers from TF: One. Everything that is a spoiler will be under the -keep reading- line. This, unfortunately, includes the summary because I couldn't think of any other way to describe what I'll be writing about.

And hey, if people enjoy this, maybe I'll write more? Can't help it, I love this type of AU and it was the first thing that popped in my head. Starscream's appearance SLIGHTLY made that AU-itch happy.

Summary: Something that D-16, Elita One, and Bumblebee didn't realize when they encountered the mecha-deer herd on the surface was that they had a care-taker.

Characters: D-16, Bumblebee, Elita One, Orion Pax

Background: In this AU, D-16 was more rebellious and participated in the race himself. Orion Pax does not exist in the mines. More will be explained in the drabble.

Without further adeu:

Cybertron's surface was truly beautiful. Despite the fear they initially felt from the unknown and the constantly shifting surface, when you took a moment to just look, you could see why everyone used to live there.

Mountains grew and disappeared in a blink. Old structures were hidden and unveiled in moments.

Wild turbo-foxes and mecha-deer hunted and grazed in the rolling fields. Cyber-wolves prowled along ridges, seemingly able to tell how the terrain would shift before it even began.

This was the surface that greeted D-16, Elita One, and Bumblebee after their train crashed.

Despite their initial crash from the unexpected tsunami of metal, it was stunning.

D-16 idly recalled the ancient texts that had been smuggled to him during his few breaks or right before recharge. He knew that, once, Cybertronians didn't need to hide underground. Back in the times of the original thirteen Primes, Cybertronians had been divided into tribes.

The ever-graceful Seekers. The quick and musical Polyhexians. The stern and no-nonsense Praxians. The violent, but mostly misunderstood Warframes. The Pullers who relished in hauling large objects long distances. And so on and so forth. All nomadic, following the mechanimals that drove their way of life. All avoiding each other. All destroyed in the original Quintesson War.

It was assumed that large cities like Iacon and Kaon arose when the thirteen joined together and ushered the remnants of their tribes underground. They each recognized that their own tribe would only be able to survive through co-operation. And so, the surface of Cybertron was abandoned.

But as the small trio stared out over the vast open spaces, D-16 couldn't help but wonder why nobody had ever bothered trying to return. Yes, Sentinel Prime had said that the surface was uninhabitable and it was too dangerous, but had no one ever actually tried to return?

Maybe it was because mechs started emerging cog-less. It was dangerous enough for mechs to survive WITH their cogs. What chance did a cog-less mech have? If they couldn't transform to speed away from danger or to evade a rapidly-changing landscape? Somberly, D-16 brushed a servo over the empty hole in his chest. Right where a cog would be in a mech that had one.

"They're so.. elegant." Elita One suddenly whispered, yanking D-16 out of his thoughts.

"And friendly too!" Bumblebee chuckled, somehow having gotten close enough to one of them to swipe a servo over it's flank. Even more surprisingly, the mecha-deer didn't move away or even seem startled by the action. In fact, it turned to nuzzle it's face into Bumblebee's servo and started snuffling around, as if looking for a treat. They reminded D-16 of the cyber-hounds that only the most elite of the elite owned in Iacon.

"Yeah. How.. strange." D-16 said, shifting forward to hesitantly pet the mecha-deer himself. Despite being made of metal, they were surprisingly soft on the head and wiry on the rest of the body.

Unbeknownst to the trio that was now excitedly petting the mecha-deer (who was greedily lapping up the attention), they were being watched by someone far less friendly.

A pair of light blue optics glared at the group from where they were hidden in a nearby uncovered set of ruins. The figure that belonged to the pair of optics had darted into the ruins to observe the group as they got closer. Their eyes darted between the herd and the group, clearly wanting to keep an eye on both.

Suddenly, the mecha-deer jerked their head into the air, no longer responding to the petting. The other deer and the hidden figure shortly followed. One after another, the lights on the mecha-deer's antlers started flashing red and they bolted. They scattered in many directions, much to the frustration of the hidden figure. If only he still had his cyber-hound. Now, it'll take forever to round them back up himself.

His optics snapped to the trio who was just staring after the herd. It was only when they finally turned around did they finally see the danger looming above the clouds. Poor mechs seemed confused and startled. They began to run towards the ruins.

How ineffective, the figure thought. Why not just transform and speed away?

As the group raced by, the figure reached out and grasped one of them (the small, yellow one he silently noted) and pressed him up against the wall. The other two (the pink one and the gray one) quickly took note and, even though they glared at him in suspicion, followed his action.

D-16 observed this new figure with suspicion and surprise. The figure was primarily red and blue with silver accents. The most startling part of him were his light blue optics and splatters of.. paint? that stood out against his primary colors. He had seen blue optics before, yes, but none as bright and light as these. The strange paint was mainly splatters of purple, green, and white. They marked the mech in elegant (but messy) swirls and symbols he had never seen before.

The mech put a digit up to his intake, indicating that the group should remain quiet. Since this new mech seemed to know more about what was going on than they did, they listened. Even though they didn't need to breathe, every bot present held their breath.

Suddenly, one of the mecha-deer darted into the ruins. Almost immediately, a red light beam from above began to track the deer. The new mech's engine started to quietly growl before he quickly cut it off. After a few seconds of tracking the deer, the small red beam burst into a blinding light. Each mech was briefly blinded. When they looked back where the deer had been, the deer was gone. What looked like bits of metal and energon were sucked into the sky and the air returned to silence.

A small distance from the ruins, a red grid emerged from the sky. The red and blue figure's optics widened and he began to usher the group towards one of the buildings that still had enough of a roof to cover them. The trio saw where he was shoving them and nodded, quickly and quietly starting to run. They had to avoid stray red beams occasionally, but Elita and D-16 made it over quickly.

Bumblebee, on the other hand, was slower and more clumsy. The red and blue figure clearly slowed themselves to keep pace with the ex-trash-sorter, but was looking more and more nervous as the grid grew closer.

Finally, clearly fed up with the slow pace, the figure swooped up Bumblebee into a bridal carry. Both Elita and D-16 were shocked that the small, lithe figure was able to lift Bumblebee, let alone without slowing his pace!

Right before the grid reached them, the figure lunged towards a narrow beam that covered a small patch of ruins. The figure clutched Bumblebee as close to himself as possible and both they and Bumblebee closed their optics as the grid slowly passed over them.

When nothing immediately happened, they cracked their optics open just to see as the grid completely passed over the beam. The figure kept Bumblebee clutched to their chest until the beam finally disappeared. Even after that, they continued to hold Bumblebee for a few kliks before letting the small yellow bot drop to the ground with a yelp.

The figure then turned very angry optics onto the entire trio.

"Who are you?! Why are you here? Do you have any idea what you just caused?! Now I have to move the herd again!" The figure started shouting, pointing his index digit at the group angrily.

Unfortunately for him, the trio did not understand his language at all and only heard what sounded like rather irate clicks, whistles, and beeps. When he realized that the group was just staring dumbly at him, his irritation turned to confusion.

"Um, hello? Do you understand me?" He asked, optical ridges furrowed.

"Uh, hello!" Elita, ever the go-getter, responded first with a wave. The figure simply tilted his head and managed to look more confused.

"Great. Cybertronians who don't speak basic." He mumbled to himself.

"Do you speak Iaconian?" Elita asked.

"I-uh-cone-ee-an?" The figure asked, testing out the word in his intake.

"Yeah, Iaconian. You know? What everyone in Iacon speaks." D-16 piped up. The figure's gaze turned to him.

"I-uh-con?" The figure asked, olfactory sensor scrunching as if the words had a nasty smell.

"Yup! That's where we're from! Iacon!" Bumblebee cheerfully added.

"So I'll take it that you don't speak it based on your reaction to words most mechs know." D-16 stated gruffly. The figure may not have known what he was saying, but he could certainly understand the tone. His gaze turned to a glare again. As he opened his intake and raised his index digit again to likely start lecturing the other, Elita piped up.

"Ok! How about introductions? I'm Elita One." She said, pointing to herself with a smile. "Elita One!" She repeated.

"I'm B-127 or Bumblebee, but I'm trying to make Badassatron a thing!" Bumblebee said. When the figure only looked at him more confused, he chuckled and rubbed the back of his helm. "Bumblebee." He said simply.

"D-16." D-16 said simply. When three sets of optics turned to him, the figure responded.

"I'm named after the constellation Orion, but sometimes the others call me Pax because they say I'm generally one of the peaceful ones." The figure chuckled to himself.

"So.. Orion Pax?" D-16 asked. The figure- newly dubbed Orion Pax- shrugged.

"Close enough."

Ending note: Whew! That's all I've got. Let me know if this sounds interesting. I welcome all critiques and comments. Will probably post this on my AO3 in the morning too. Probably.