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averagewriter-inthedark · 3 months

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When Three Became Two 🪽| Platonic!Weasley Twins Imagine

Set during the Battle of Hogwarts

Harry Potter masterlist

Characters & Pairings: George & Fred Weasley x Sister!Weasley Triplet (platonic), the Golden Trio x weasley!sister (platonic)

Content Warnings: Character Death, sadness, angst, mentions of blood and major injury, profanity | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 7k

Premise: The dynamic redheaded duo Fred & George were never particularly close with their older triplet sister Y/N, especially after she was sorted into Slytherin during their first year at Hogwarts. It is not till the Battle of Hogwarts do the twins realize just how important family is, but by then it was too late to make amends.

(Y/E/C)- Your eye color

Note: I’m going to put red hair because you know Weasley but if you want to envision your own hair color that is totally fine too. Also, just so y'all know....I started this piece back in 2018 and recently picked it back up. So....the last 400 words are pretty much the most recent material I added + i did A LOT of editing. So I apologize if the beginning is trash because like I said, 6k of the nearly 7k words are from 6 years ago. I've been hyperfixating on the Weasley twins again which is why I was like 'maybe I should finish that imagine I started...'

Italics are flashbacks

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Y/n Weasley felt the sweat and blood drip off her forehead as she ran through the halls of the school she had spent several years in which became a second home to her. She was out of breath, dodging and reflecting spells that were casted her way from the surrounding death eaters. Screams and shouts echoed from every corner, flashes of red and green light nearly blinding her (Y/E/C) eyes while her flaming red hair swished when she ran. Her breath was wavering, she could see several of her fellow Order members dueling around her. Passing the Great Hall, her pace nearly faltering when her eyes locked on the doors, the memory of walking through the first time when she was just a nervous little eleven year old began to play in the redheads mind….

Y/n sighed, stepping off the Hogwarts Express for the first time. Her twin brothers had already raced to the boats leaving the smaller, although older, of the three behind. Picking up her robes that were slightly dragging due to her small stature, Y/n followed her fellow classmates to the boating docks, casting a smile to Hagrid as she walked past him, who in return smiled back. She found a boat that already had two other first years seated, and quickly took the spot adjacent to a girl about her age.

“Hi,” the girl smiled to the redhead, “I’m Angelina Johnson. What’s your name?”

“I’m Y/n Weasley, it’s nice to meet you,” the two shook hands with smiles.

“What house are you hoping to be in?”

“Honestly,” Y/n sighed, “I’m not sure. My whole family has been in Gryffindor, including my two older brothers who are currently here. It would be nice to be sorted there so I have my family, but I’ve always felt different.”

“Are those other two ginger boys your brothers?” Angelina pointed to the boat where Fred and George were laughing loudly while talking with a dark-skinned boy. Y/n nodded after looking where Angelina was pointing, turning back with a grim expression.

“Yeah, that’s Fred and George. We’re triplets, I’m the oldest of the bunch yet I never seem to be included in anything.”

“Aw, that’s not right,” Angelina said with a frown. The two continued to talk the entire boat ride to the castle, learning about their backgrounds and finding out they had several similar interests. One could tell that the two instantly connected and were on the road to becoming best friends. The two girls got off the boat once it got to the docks, Y/n helping Angelina when she nearly tripped as she got out, to which the young girl was grateful for.

“Oh my gosh thank you!” Angelina exclaimed, “That would have been so embarrassing.” Y/n laughed slightly, fixing the girl’s robes.

“No problem, I wouldn't want you tripping on the first night and being made fun of before classes even started.” The two girls followed everyone to the entrance of the castle, beaming in awe of everything they passed. Climbing the steps that lead to the great hall seemed like forever, but soon they were faced with an older woman who wore a pointed hat on top of her head and green robes.

“Good evening,” she greeted, “I am Professor McGonagall. In a few moments, the doors behind me will open and you will enter the Great Hall where you will then be sorted into one of the four houses named after the four founding members of Hogwarts; Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin--.” She continued to explain the four houses to the children before the doors opened. When they did, Professor McGonagall escorted the group into the Great Hall. Many looked at the ceiling, gasping at the candles floating in midair. Some caught the eyes of soon to be fellow classmates, the students sending smiles to the young ones.

The group halted in front of the steps leading to the podium. The members of the head table gazed down on the children, Headmaster Dumbledore giving them a warm smile to welcome them making many feel more at ease. Professor McGonagall stood beside a stool, on top of it was a brown pointed hat.

“When I call your name,” she said, capturing everyone's attention, “You will step up, take a seat on the stool and I will place the sorting hat on your head where you will be sorted into your houses.” Y/n felt her hands become clammy, nerves racking through here with each name being called getting closer to hers. When Angelina was called and sorted into Gryffindor, Y/n clapped for her with a smile, happy for her new friend. She immediately hoped she would also be sorted into the house to be with not only her older brothers, but also with Angelina.

“Weasley, Fred.” The ginger boy raced up the stairs, careful not to trip over his robes and took a seat on the stool with a grin. The hat was placed onto his head and it took only moments before the hat exclaimed, “GRYFFINDOR!!” Cheers erupted from the lion house, the older Weasley boys, Charlie and Percy, clapping loudly for their brother and greeting him with open arms when he ran to the table. George was called next, the boy also running to the stool and the Gryffindor house applauded with joy once more hearing the sorting hat call out the name again. Fred and George embraced in a big hug, happy they were going to be in the same house and sat next to each other beside their brothers.

The room went quiet and Professor McGonagall read out the name many had already guessed was next, “Weasley, Y/n.” The small eleven-year-old let out a shaky breath, ascending the steps before taking a seat on the stool. She flinched when the hat was placed on her head and heard a gasp emitted from it.

“Ahh another Weasley,” the hat began, “only you are much different than your many siblings huh? Loyal to your family, a trait you value, but Hufflepuff is not for you. There is no doubt you are brave like a Gryffindor, there will be a time your bravery will be put to the test, but there is a strong ambition that lies within you. You are a very determined young one, and will do anything to accomplish your goals.” Y/N felt her heart begin to beat faster as the hat continued talking, “So, there is only one house in which you will find what you are looking for and that is SLYTHERIN!!”

That day, while no one wanted to admit it, changed everything. The twins hardly ever talked to Y/N, even less than what they already had. Many of the Slytherins ignored her, not enjoying the fact that a member of the blood-traitor family was sorted into the notorious pure-blood house. Even though Y/N was of pure blood, it did not matter to them, she was still relatively shunned from her housemates. Professor Snape was displeased at first until she proved she had a talent for potion making, becoming more advanced than any student he had ever taught. It was then he treated the Weasley girl with some actual respect and even allowed her to practice in the classroom whenever she pleased as long as she promised to never let her brothers get their hands on any of the ingredients he stored in the room.

Charlie, Angelina, and Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff seemed to be the only people besides her parents and professors that looked beyond the fact she was in Slytherin. Others included her older brother Bill, her younger sister Ginny and eventually Hermione Granger. The bushy haired Gryffindor met the older Weasley in her first year at Hogwarts. After being told of the talented potion maker from Ron, Hermione sought to meet her. Y/N was shocked when the girl first introduced herself, but it was the start of a treasured friendship Y/N held dear to her.

“Hi!” a cheerful voice sounded, causing Y/N to look up from her textbook. Her eyes met the warm brown ones of a petite girl bushy haired girl sporting a Gryffindor tie and robes. The Slytherin girl gazed at her confused, looking around the library in case she was addressing someone else other than her. By the warm smile the first-year gave her, Y/N realized she was in fact talking to her.

“Uh hi?” she said with a questionable tone, brows furrowed. The girl stuck her hand out which made Y/N slightly flinch by how fast the movement was.

“I’m Hermione Granger,” she introduced. Y/N hesitantly extended her own hand, clasping it with the girl's small one and shook it lightly.

“Y/N Weasley.”

“I know,” Hermione smiled, “Ron told me about you. Well he did not tell me much except your name and that you were in Slytherin. He also mentioned you were really good with potions and Snape likes you.” Y/N could not help but slightly chuckle at the last sentence.

“I wouldn’t say Snape ‘likes’ me, but he certainly tolerates me more than my siblings. You’ve probably already seen that the twins are pranksters, they tend to cause him immense distress.” This made Hermione laugh and Y/N felt her lips curl up. She then noticed the girl holding several textbooks, one of which was a first-year potions book, “Is there anything I can help you with Hermione?”

“I just wanted to get to know you,” the girl said warmly, which made Y/N slightly shocked. “Ron and the twins did not speak much about you and when they did they made it seem like you were horrible just because you were sorted into Slytherin. I know that a house does not define who a person really is, so I wanted to talk to you myself and it appears you are not a mean or evil person that your house makes people think you are.” Y/N could not believe what she was hearing and she could not detect any hint of a lie in the girl's words.

“Wow,” She breathed, “Sorry, I’m just a little taken back. It’s been a while since I’ve really heard anyone say that. Only my older siblings, minus Percy, my parents, my sister, and a few people who I happen to be friends with think the same way you do. Ron and the twins just really ignore me.”

“But aren’t you and the twins actually triplets?” The question caused Y/N to frown and look down at her book.

“Yeah,” she muttered softly, “We are. Many people forget that we are because we never act like it, but it’s okay, I’m used to the two leaving me out. It happened before we were sorted into our houses so it does not bother me much anymore. I’ve learned to live with it.” Hermione frowned at that, feeling sad for the older Weasley.

“That’s not right. You guys are siblings, family. They should not treat you like that.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. One day they will realize how they act wrong, until then I can only be patient.” Hermione nodded though she still possessed a frown and Y/N pushed away the many books laid on the table, gesturing for the girl to take a seat. “Here, sit down. You said you want to get to know me, so let's just talk while we do our homework and you can see how I really am compared to what Ron tells you. I’ll even help you with potions if you need.” Hermione beamed, placing her books on the table and sitting down across from the redhead. The two talked for hours until it was time for curfew, getting to know one another and Y/N offering help when Hermione had a question on a certain subject and Y/N felt it was the start of a blossoming friendship.

The years continued, and Y/N only had few friends, hardly ever seeing her siblings due to them all being sorted into Gryffindor leaving her alone. Her friendship with Hermione grew and she even looked at the girl as a sister, the Gryffindor looking at her the same way. Y/N and Angelina remained close even after being sorted in different houses. Despite having few friends, she could not wait to graduate and finally go off on her own, already planning to continue her work in potions and become a potioneer after spending countless summers devoted to perfecting different elixirs. Several events happened during her time at Hogwarts, including her sister Ginny unlocking the Chamber of Secrets and the tragedy of the TriWizard Tournament.

When the Order of the Phoenix was back in business to stop Voldemort following the death of her dear friend Cedric, Y/n immediately joined despite objections from her parents. The death of her friend caused immense grief. She became depressed in the following months, hardly sleeping due to nightmares of his corpse and she rarely ate, resulting in her facial features becoming more hollow. It was not until she joined the Order that she was back to her normal self and that was because of her determination to bring justice to Cedric’s death. The Order faced great loss. The deaths of Sirius, Dumbledore, Moody and with her brother George losing his ear proved how real the war was and the fight to make the world a safer place.

Now it was the second of May, and the fight of everyone’s life was in place. Death Eaters swarmed every inch of Hogwarts, attacking students whether they were armed or not. Y/N ran down the corridors, deflecting spells and sending jinxes back and forth. Her adrenaline was soaring, not knowing where exactly she was headed, but the only thing she knew was to survive and protect the students around her. Y/n never thought she would ever cast the killing curse in her life, but when a second-year Hufflepuff was about to be killed, the spell left her mouth before she could stop herself. The Death Eater fell back unmoving, Y/n took the hand of the small boy she saved and hurried him to the nearest dormitory or classroom.

“Here, go!” she ushered him into the room, “Stay here and do not leave! Hide somewhere and be alert, you understand?” The boy nodded furishouly, his small body shaking and clutching his wand tightly in his hand. The redhead raced out of the room, closing the door shut before darting down the hallway. A flash of familiar hair caught her eye and her feet carried her to the source. “Ginny!” She shouted upon seeing her sister. The younger Weasley halted her movement at the sound, turning around only to collide in the older one’s embrace. “Oh my God,” Y/n breathed, “Are you okay? Why are you out here? I thought you were to stay in the Room of Requirement until this was over?”

“Harry needed me to leave,” she told her sister, the two moving to a corner where they were slightly hidden from the battle, “He needed to search the room for a possible horcrux. Once he went in, I left and came here. I couldn’t just let my friends and family fight with the chances of them getting killed and just sit and wait!” Y/n sighed, bringing a hand to wipe the sweat on her face which resulted in more dirt being rubbed.

“While I don’t like you being involved, I understand where you’re coming from.” She pauses to rub her nose bridge, placing her hands on Ginny’s shoulders to look at her sternly, “Mum and dad might kill me for letting you fight, but there’s really no time to negotiate and stop you. At least find Neville or someone who can stay close to you and keep you covered, okay?” Ginny nodded, embracing her sister once more in a tight hug.

“Stay safe, sis.”

“I will,” Y/n told her, “You stay safe too, I’ll see you soon.” The two pulled away and Y/n bolted away down the hall while Ginny rushed to Tonks after seeing her battle a Death Eater and rushing to her aid. Y/n turned the corner, something in her stomach dropping and her intuition telling her something bad was about to happen. She heard the sound of a duel taking place and followed it. Familiar voices echoed in her ears and her pace picked up. The redhead rounded the corridor, jets of light flashing in her eyes and she spotted Fred and Percy battling Death Eaters while Harry, Ron, and Hermione helped while dodging incoming jinxes.

“Hello, Minister!” Percy bellowed, sending a jinx at the man, “Did I mention I’m resigning?”

“You’re joking, Perce!” Fred shouted and looked at his brother. Y/n watched the two and in the corner of eyes she could see a Death Eater with their wand raised. Her brothers could not see the man, and she noticed he was pointing at the wall directly behind them. Before she could think, Y/n sprinted as fast as her feet carried her, eyes widening when the flash of light emitted from the want of the assailant. At that moment, nothing mattered other than making sure her brothers were safe. All the years of being ignored and looked down upon by them due to being sorted in Slytherin seemed to vanish, and Y/n felt water line her eyes as she got closer.

“You actually are joking, Perce… I don’t think I’ve heard you joke since you were--.”

“Fred! Percy!” Her scream ignited and the two snapped their heads toward her just in time for the redhead to push them both out of the way at the exact moment the air exploded around them. The two brothers along with the Golden Trio were flown back from the impact, all landing onto the stone ground with a groan. Pain erupted to several areas of their bodies which would surely bruise. Dust covered them, their vision blurred from how much was in the air.

Fred pulled his body up, groaning from the pain in his side and coughing from how much dust filled his throat. He scanned the area and saw how the wall he was in front of was blasted apart with stone and wood now covering every inch of the ground with a large pile in the middle. It took two seconds for the ginger to realize what had happened, the last thing he saw was his sister running at him before he was flown back. He immediately got up and rushed to the pile of debris, staggering over the stones while shouting his sister's name.

“Y/n!!” He screamed, moving at a fast pace. “Y/n, can you hear me!” The boy began throwing the many pieces of stone and wood away from the pile, searching for any sign of movement and listening for sound. Percy and the trio joined in, the group shouting Y/n name and digging through the debris. “C’mon Y/n I need you to tell me where you are!” Fred grew more and more worried, feeling his heart sink by the second. It was not until he heard a pained groan and rushed to the source. He spotted a hand peeking through the rubble and Fred shouted for the others saying he found her. They all rushed to him, removing the stone covering Y/n's body, allowing Fred to pull her out of the wreckage when they were able to get her upper half revealed. She let out a scream, pain erupting all through her and Fred tried his best to get her out as gently as he could.

“I got you, sis.” He said with a shaky voice, “I got you.” With one quick but harsh tug, Y/n was removed from the rubble and was laid onto the floor. Everyone surrounded her, becoming frozen by how much blood covered her body. Cuts and gashes painted her skin, her clothing ripped and chunks of stone were embedded into the many wounds. Her breath wavered, gasping for air and they all felt their heart race at the sight. Hermione, with shaky hands, pressed a palm on to a deep cut in Y/n’s neck. The Weasley girl hissed, blood filling her mouth and dripping down her lips.

“You’re going to be okay, Y/n,” Hermoine’s voice cracked, trying not to look at the many wounds which the girl could tell will be fatal if not treated immediately. Ron could see a large gash right above his sister’s temple and gently laid his hand on top of it, while biting his lip to stop a sob from escaping. He knew it was bad, and his sister was dying in front of him. They needed a healer, but the Great Hall was several corridors away and Ron feared she would not make it in time. Percy began calling for help, applying pressure onto her stomach which had been cut open when a large piece of wood had impaled her. Harry stayed on his feet with his wand ready for any threats while also keeping his eye on Y/n, his heart dropping at the sight of her battered body.

“I can’t--,” Y/n gasped with a tired breath as Fred held her hand, “I can’t feel my legs.” She could hear them gasp, Fred’s hand becoming tense in her hold.

“We need to get her to Madam Pomfrey!” Fred shouted and went to pick her up, the others keeping their hands on her wounds to hold the bleeding but when they tried Y/n erupted in wails from the pain filling her by the slightest movement. It was like a volcano, fire filling her blood. The thick liquid poured out of her wounds, her skin becoming pale. Hermione’s hands were painted red, as were Ron and Percy’s. The sound of her screams were so loud it echoed through the nearby hallway and caused tears to stream down Hermione’s face.

“Stop!” she shouted, “Fred stop! It’s too late, she won’t make it!”

“You don’t know that!” He yelled back trying to get his sister into his arms, his clothes now coated in red. Y/n began to shake from the pain, becoming numb by the intensity and Fred started to panic.

“Fred, she’s losing too much blood,” Hermione cried, “She’ll bleed out before we can even get her to the Great Hall.”

“Are you serious, Hermione?!” Fred shouted in disbelief over the chaos around them, “Do you even hear yourself?! She’s your friend and you’re gonna let her die!? ”

“Fred stop,” Y/n's hoarse voice whispered. The ginger boy looked down at his sister, her upper body being held up in his arms while the others continued to put pressure on her wounds but blood continued to seep through their fingers.

“What--?”

“She’s r-right,” Y/n interrupted, “I-I won’t make it. The pain is too much--I-I can’t move and I'm losing too much blood.” She was shaking, fighting against what was pulling her to the other side to have a few precious moments with her family. “You need to get out of here, go find mum and dad.” Fred could not believe what he was hearing, neither Ron nor Percy. All three boys felt their eyes water and Fred tightened his hold on her. Percy grabbed her other hand, and Ron kept his on her head, covering her wound while tears flooded his face.

“Y/n,” Fred stuttered her name, “We can get you to a healer. Madam Pomfrey will help and she will heal you, you’ll be fine.” The words were more to convince himself. He watched as her lips curled up, tired and broken eyes looking into his.

“Fred,” she sighed, “You and I both know that I am not going to make it.” A sob escaped his throat.

“No! You’re not dying! You’re going to be okay!” He cried, dropping his head so his cheek rested on her hair. “You’re going to get out of here. You’re going to go home and learn how to walk again and become a potioneer like you’ve always dreamed of. You’ll get married and have kids…” He trailed off when sobs overtook him and he began to cry into her hair. Fred never believed he would ever have to watch his sister die in his arms. He had never felt more pain in his life than in that moment watching her gasp for air as her life started to fade away. What made it even more painful was knowing she saved him in the process, “I was supposed to die, not you! Not you!”

Fred started to think back to all the times he and George would ignore Y/n, never including her in pranks or just ordinary things. The moment she was sorted into Slytherin they acted like they were not even related at times and Fred felt more tears fall knowing he could never make up for it. He won’t ever get the chance to show her how sorry he was.

“Y/N go get your brothers and tell them supper is ready.”

“Yes mum.” Y/N raced up the many flights of stairs in the burrow in search of her twin brothers. When she got to the room, she knocked gently and waited for a reply but did not hear one so she pushed it open to see the two boys sitting on the ground in between their beds with several items in front of them.

“Hey, hey!” Fred shouted in surprise and George started to gather their many inventions away from her sight. “You can’t just come in here without saying anything!” Y/N frowned at him.

“I knocked,” she told him, “neither of you responded.”

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, “Still does not mean you can just walk in our room unannounced. We are doing something very exclusive and can’t risk you snitching it to mum or dad or your pal Snape.” Y/n’s eyes narrowed at her brother.

“Snape is not my ‘pal.’ He just stands me more than you lot because you are always causing him trouble.” George mumbled something under his breath, but the girl could not hear it. “And besides, I haven’t told anyone about your previous antics so why would I do so now?”

“Oh please,” Fred said in an annoyed tone, “we know you told Filch that we were the ones who put fireworks in his office second-year.” Y/N’s jaw dropped at the accusation, her cheeks becoming inflamed as anger rose.

“I did no such thing!” she shouted, “whoever told you that was a lie! I never ratted you out to Filch and why would he believe me? He thinks I’m just as bad as you two because I’m a Weasley.”

“Sometimes I don’t understand how you are one?”

“Excuse me?” she said appalled, “What in the bloody hell do you mean by that?” The twins just looked at her with blank expressions while she felt her eyes begin to water.

“Well first,” Fred started, “the most obvious is that you are the only one of us who got sorted into Slytherin. A house you know is full of pure-blooded pricks and bullies who hate everyone but themselves. You don’t like quidditch like the rest of us and prefer to be by yourself working on potions. Snape likes you, but hates the rest of us and you just have always been the outkast in the family. Who knows, you may even become a Death Eater like the rest of your housemates. Maybe you already are one and just haven’t said anything, wouldn’t be surprised you never tell anyone in this house what you are up to.” Y/n stayed silent when Fred finished, she felt a small tear fall down her cheek but neither of her brothers looked like they were unapologetic. She bit her lip giving a small nod and wiped away the drop.

“Mum wants you to know that supper is ready.” Turning on her heel, Y/n paced out of the room with the door slamming shut behind her. She shoved past Percy who simply glared at her for her attitude and bumping into him, obviously not knowing what the twins had said to her to cause such emotion. The redhead burst into her room, collapsing onto her bed and pushing her face into her pillow as cries erupted from her, being muffled by the pillow. She felt her heart break, her brother's words replaying in her head causing torment like a radio playing a horrible song over and over again.

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” he wept into her hair, “I’m sorry I treated you so badly. For everything. Ignoring you, pranking you in ways that had humiliated you and made you cry. Accusing you of snitching on us when you never did.” He held her close to his body, breaking inside each time she made a sound of agony. “I’m sorry for what I said to you during fourth year. I’m such a horrible brother,” he sobbed, “Please sis, don’t go. Don’t leave us.”

“It’s okay, Fred,” she hushed him, stroking his arm with the hand Percy wasn’t holding. The two other Weasley boys were sobbing next to her. They two often treated her unfairly and were now going to live in tremendous guilt and despair, begging God to not take her. “It’s okay,” she said again, this time quieter.

“Y-Y/N,” Percy stuttered, but she simply hushed him.

Her voice grew weaker, and the group knew it was only moments before she would be gone forever. “It’s gonna be okay. I love--,” it was getting harder to speak, but she was fighting. “I love you all.”

“We love you too. We always will,” Ron said and Hermione started to cry harder, leaning onto Ron for support. Harry no longer looked around for Death Eaters, his own face drenched in tears at the sight in front of him. He felt anguish in him, seeing another friend die at the hands of those who wanted him dead.

“You think I’ll see Cedric up there?” She questioned, eyelids falling shut and the image of her best friend filled her mind. Happy at the thought of possibly seeing him again. Fred let out a small cry before she felt him nod.

“Y-yeah,” he croaked, “He’ll be waiting for you. You’ll be together again just like before.”

“Freddie?”

“Yeah, sis?”

“Take care of George,” she managed to breathe out, “Tell him I love him.”

“I will,” He sniffed, feeling her take one last breath.

“Promise me you will live.” The air left her body one last time, the pain no longer present and Y/n felt at peace, unable to hear Fred’s last words to her.

“I promise. I love you, sis.” But Y/N did not respond, causing him to gently shake her. Her lack of reaction caused Fred to collapse into a heap of cries when her body finally went limp in his arms. “Y-y/n?”

Percy felt her hand become unmoved and he too, cried in heartbreak. Ron held onto Hermione, turning his body away so he did not see his now dead sister in his brother’s arms. His heart was heavy with agony and he could not help console Hermione for he was in the same state. Harry dropped his head, sadness all within him at the loss of someone he looked at as family. He would never forgive himself, and he wished nothing more for Y/n to be brought back.

“Y/n,” Fred tried again, but to no avail. “W-wake up. Please w-wake u-up.”

The Golden Trio had to force themselves to leave, to continue their search before more people died. Harry and Hermoine having to drag poor Ron away from his siblings. None wanted to go, but time was limited and it took all their strength to get up and leave Percy and Fred with Y/n’s body. Promising Ron they’d get her to their family once it was safe to do so.

The two Weasley brothers lost track of time. They stayed put, mourning the loss of their sister until the battle ceased and they were drained of tears. It soon became quiet in the castle, Death Eaters had retreated upon Voldermorts order and bodies laid all through the halls.

“We should take her to the Great Hall,” Percy spoke with a dry voice, hoarse from all the cries. “Take her to mum and dad.” Fred was still, looking in front of him at the dusted hallway full of debris from the explosion that killed his sister. She was still held close in his arms, eyes closed and the blood stopped flowing but coated every inch of her skin along with Fred’s clothes. It took all his might to look down, eyes landing on her face. She looked peaceful, her lips slightly curled as though she had died smiling and that gave Fred some sort of comfort despite her damaged body.

That she left the world at peace.

“You think she’ll watch over us? Even though we treated her like shit?” His voice cracked. The older Weasley gazed down at his little sister, a small yet heartbroken smile on his lips and he cleared his throat. His hand came over her forehead to move some of her red hair, flinching at how cold her skin was.

“Yeah,” he said, “I think she will.” Fred carefully stood, cradleling Y/n in his arms. Percy rose beside him, grabbing their discarded wands and leading them out of the hallway, careful to avoid the debris around them. They reached the Great Hall, hearing the sound of others. Many were painful groans, others were cries of despair. The two emerged in the doorway, paying no mind to those around them and instead continued to walk forward until they saw their parents, Ginny and older brothers Bill and Charlie. Ginny was the first to see them, and rushed to them relieved they were okay and searched for her sister, but when her eyes landed on what was in Fred’s arms she halted. She could see the flaming red hair similar to hers and the blood stained clothing on the unmoving body. Her mouth went agape, hand flying to cover it as her eyes filled with water threatening to escape.

“Please tell me it’s not--.” But Percy simply shook his head, looking at his baby sister with sorrow and Ginny let out a small scream, falling to the ground but was caught by Bill. He stared at the Y/n’s lifeless body, his heart breaking into pieces and he tried desperately to console Ginny, but found it hard to battle his own grief emerging. Molly and Arthur ran upon hearing their daughter’s scream and froze when they saw their son.

“Fred,” Arthur said in a hesitant voice. His son looked at him with tear filled eyes, lips quivering and for Fred, he could feel his body start to shake.

“I-I-I,” he could not find the words, “S-she saved us. She saved us…..” His knees nearly gave out and his brothers Percy and Charlie helped him lower their deceased sister onto the ground. After gently placing the fallen Weasley onto the stone floor, Fred once more collapsed over her body as his grief overpowered him once more. Molly fell back into her husband’s arms, wailing in agony, he too had trouble holding her up as his body racked with sobs. Ginny was still on the floor, being cradled by Bill while Charlie and Percy stood over Fred, rubbing his back with tears of their own falling.

Onlookers watched with solemn expressions. The sight was gut wrenching but unfortunately resembled many throughout the Great Hall as friends mourned friends and teachers draped blankets over their deceased students.

“No! Not my girl!” Molly screamed, “Please not m-my girl.” She fell to her knees, crawling over to the opposite side of her daughter's body and caressed her cold cheek. Blood was all over her precious face, adorned with cuts and gashes, the most horrific on her head and neck. Molly did not even want to look down at Y/n’s body, for she was afraid of what else had happened to cause her daughter such a horrific death. Arthur could see the gaping wound in Y/n’s torso, his stomach lurching at the sight and he had to turn away as he felt nauseous.

George burst through the entrance of the Great Hall. He had separated from his family and Fred at some point during the battle which resulted in his anxiety to soar at not knowing where they were. He heard the wounded were being treated in the Great Hall along with the bodies of those who perished being moved until further notice, so the ginger bolted to the location as fast as he could. His eyes scanned every inch of the large dining hall, and soon he could see a group of people with the same colored hair as him, instantly relieved.

George walked with a rushed pace, slowing with confusion when he heard the wretched cries of his parents and siblings. They were all huddled, blocking his view of the ground. He immediately looked for Fred, becoming relaxed when he saw his brother alive. But George’s stomach dropped at the broken look painted on his twin’s face.

“F-Fred,” he stuttered out as he approached him, “what’s wron----.” Something behind Fred’s shoulder caught his eye, George’s gaze falling to the still figure on the ground. That’s when he realized the fact Fred was kneeling on the ground, hovered over the figure, and his mother was sobbing into their neck.

His twin lifted his head, turning to meet George’s eyes, which revealed the horrific reality waiting for him. There, lying on the stretcher covered in a dark red--almost black--substance and nearly unrecongnizable, was his sister Y/n. Unmoving. Dead.

All the air left George’s body, face consorting to match his family as he took in sight. The clothes she wore were tattered. Dirt and grime painted the visible parts of her skin not coated in her blood. Gashes upon gashes. A nasty intrusion on her temple and torso. George felt the bile form in his throat and before he could stop it the redhead was hunched over, spilling the contents of his stomach onto the floor. Arthur instantly went to him, rubbing his back. Once it appeared George had got it all out, Arthur produced a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his son's mouth as he had seemed to freeze.

“Y-Y/n,” he dropped to his knees. Crawling to Fred and their mother. His twin slightly moved aside to give space. George instantly reached for her hand, devastated when the cold touch hit his skin. “No.” Tears dropped from his eyes, George looking to his family for them to say it was all a nightmare. “N-no. No!”

“George,” Molly whispered, reaching over to comfort him.

He shook his head, not wanting to believe the truth. “What happened?!” Fred winced, returning to a heap of sobs.

“She saved us,” Percy whispered, making George look up. “There was an explosion. A-and she pushed us out of the way. A wall came crashing down,” the older Weasley boy flinched, head dropping as he relieved the most horrifying moment of his life. “It crushed her.”

Molly wheeped into her daughter's chest. Picturing the scene. Unable to save her baby girl who she had spent so long wishing for.

For the twins, it was like a piece of them was now missing. Creating a hole deep in their hearts. They all came into the world together. Y/n first, then Fred, lastly George. How were they supposed to go forward without the third piece of their puzzle?

This question only surfaced the ocean-sized guilt swimming in their veins. Like Fred had done in the precious moments he held their dying sister, George was replaying all the times he had tormented Y/n. The constant pranking. Humiliating her in front of her friends and schoolmates. Getting her in trouble with their antics when she took the fall. Accusing her of snitching on them.

George crumbled, clutching onto Y/n’s hand as he lowered his head to her torso. Praying to whoever above to take care of her in the afterlife and begging her spirit to forgive him. Wishing he could turn back time to tell her how much he loved her. He wanted his sister back.

A cold breeze brushed his ear, almost like a whisper. George thought he felt a hand on his shoulder, but when he turned the closest person to him was Percy, and he was at least five steps away.

Whatever it was Fred had felt it two. The redheads glancing to one another, anguish filling their gaze. For they had their suspicions of what--or who--was responsible for the touch.

Turning back to Y/n’s body, Fred and George pictured what life was in store for them without their sister. Reality sunk in. No longer a bright light, but instead dimly lit.

For what was once three became two.

#weasley twins #george weasley #fred weasley #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins imagine #fred weasly x reader #george wealsey x reader #weasley!reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #fred weasley fanfiction #george weasley fanfiction #ron weasley #ron weasley imagine #slytherin!reader #platonic!reader #harry potter angst

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chrismcleanswife · 1 year

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𝐃𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐧 & 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐉𝐔𝐕𝐄

𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚊 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝! <𝟹

♥⛓ -> You were stuck up in a prison for 3 years, how great! /sarcasm

♥⛓ -> Well, It was kinda your fault being there, you know, you commited several law violations...

♥⛓ -> Anyways, you stayed 2 years in the commonal place but when you practically murdered a guard that tried to rape you that privilege finished.

♥⛓ -> Now you were placed in the high security area, leaving behind the friends you made in those 2 years since you couldn’t out that area and they couldn’t come in.

♥⛓ -> Okay, that’s crazy. But this is even more crazy!!

♥⛓ -> Because they gave you conditional liberty in exchange of appearing in a sick ass TV live program.

♥⛓ -> You were not dumb. so you accepted, anything better than being here for another 5 years lmao.

♥⛓ -> So you got the 5 things you called stuff, you packed it up in a bag that the guards gave you and being followed by two grown men you got into a car, later on a yatch and then you finally got your feet on the Island in which the show will be taking place.

♥⛓ -> ❝And here we have Y/N! The damsel on not so much distress❞ were the words that Chris said when you walked past him, you turned to him just before reaching your place in the dock and made finger guns at him, which he gladly returned with a grin.

♥⛓ -> However, after that you wanted to take a look at your new competence and so on your eyes scanned everyone near you, a brunette girl, a goth one, a small boy who seemed like a pushover, a sweet dofus, a punk with delinquent looks, a girl-boss and a mean-looking girl.

♥⛓ -> Wait.

♥⛓ -> A punk with delinquent looks?

♥⛓ -> You blinked a bit confused and turned your head to the boy again, taking a glance at his green crest and at the piercings he had.

♥⛓ -> Your eyes went wide as you recognised the boy who was at your right side.

♥⛓ -> ❝OH MY GOD. Duncan, is that you?? The prison’s green nightmare???❞ You asked, eyes open wide as an excited smile made it’s way to your lips.

♥⛓ -> The named boy turned to look at you with wide eyes and a raised eyebrow, and as soon as his blue ice eyes landed on the familiar colour of your eyes.

♥⛓ -> ❝Holy shit-!! Y/N? The murderer of section B??❞ He now asked you, while everyone looked at you two as If you were crazy or something.

♥⛓ -> ❝HELL YEAH!!❞ you shouted, now running to his arms and jumping to them, Duncan, unable to let his beloved prison buddy fall to the ground lifted your body in the air and gave you a spin, thing that made you both laugh.

♥⛓ -> ❝Oh my god! You haven’t changed a bit! The fork’s mark is still on your neck!!❞ he laughed while pointing at a scar visible on your neck, a gift from your very first meeting.

♥⛓ -> Spoiler, he almost killed you in that first meeting lmao 💀

♥⛓ -> He now left you in the ground again and as you turned your heads to the rest of people there you both grinned at their confused looks.

♥⛓ -> ❝Care to explain what’s happening you little delinquents?❞ asked Leshawna, pointing at you both with a side smile on her lips.

♥⛓ -> ❝I- I can’t believe I actually did it!!!❞ screamed a laughing Chris, almost falling to the ground from his laughter ❝I- Oh my god! They told me that you had a friend on the other section and that you both were the most feared duo out of the prison! I can’t believe I actually reunited you both!❞ he kept laughing at his own luck and after an exchange of glances between some of the campers he finally could calm down.

♥⛓ -> ❝Anyways, guys, those two JUVE interns were friends until our dear Y/N almost killed a guard, so now you have in front of your own eyes the duo of delinquents most feared in all Canada!❞ he explained with amusement while Duncan crossed his arms over his chest with a proud grin and you blew a kiss to the cute looking goth girl who you were before looking at, she mimic to catch it and an even wider grin appears on your lips.

♥⛓ -> ❝The most... feared duo of Canada...?❞ the pushover boy asked with fear, his name was Cody (you heard a little bit of conversation before) and as the words fell from his lips you winked at him, making him stutter over his own words while his cheeks burned like fire, oh he was a cute one, you thought before returning your attention to Chris.

♥⛓ -> You intertwined arms with Duncan as Chris continued speaking about the rules of this strange “summer camp” and you couldn’t help but laugh when you noticed that almost all the girls where looking at Duncan while all the boys were looking at you, and how could they not? You are fucking hot and dangerous, and that makes you sexy withouth any other word.

♥⛓ -> Finding the interest on both funny, you lifted your body using your toes and whispered what was happening in your prison buddy’s ears, he just laughed while turning his head to the girls and giving the brunette one a wink, she just huffed with a little hint of red on the cheeks and looked away.

♥⛓ -> You were going to have fun in this camp, being with your ol’ delinquent partner in crime and surrounded by a bunch of cute and pathetic boys and a cute and hot looking goth girl was the better summer plan you ever had.

♥⛓ -> And while you darkly chuckled to yourself you thought that maybe... just maybe... you could manage to commit an atrocity or two in this place.

#Duncan #Duncan x reader #tdi Duncan x reader #tdwt Duncan x reader #Total Drama #Drama Total #Total Drama x reader #Total Drama Island x reader #Tdi x reader #Total Drama Island x fem!reader #female reader #Duncan x female!reader #Duncan x fem!reader #Duncan x female reader

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kaihuntrr · 11 months

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The Sea Prince: The Watcher, ‘Civilians’, and Hunters.

To celebrate this au being one of my most favorite things to work on, I’ve made designs for the Solidarity brothers, Big B, and redesigned the trio!

Closeups and introductions under the cut :> here they are!

Now that’s character design! I’m super proud of how they turned out, and they form a rainbow by pure coincidence. Let’s talk about them!

Starting off with the duos!

‘Nosy Neighbors’ & ‘Mean Gills’

Big B is a new one so I’ll talk about him first. I’ll talk about the other three as characters :)

‘Big B.’

Big B is a Watcher; an organization that studies and hunts sea monsters. He used to be a famous vagabond hunter, but due to some mysterious circumstances, he retired early. You’ll meet him much later on in the story, but he’s quite an interesting character! He keeps his secrets. He knows yours. Who knows if he's trustworthy or not.

He seems to have a connection to Grian.

‘Pearl Moone.’

She’s a cocky, energetic person to be around. She doesn’t seem too trusting with strangers, especially hunters. Her accessories are golden, and she has a scar over her left eye so she definitely stands out.

She has a red shell bracelet similar to Scott’s necklace. Are they friends?

‘Scott Major.’

A pleasant, sassy, and entertaining server in the port town the Red Canaries visit. He often flirts with Martyn, leaving the hunter speechless with promises of something more. He’s hiding something. Maybe he’ll tell Martyn his secrets one day?

He swears a couple of necklaces, but one is hidden under his shirt.

‘Martyn Woods.’

The second mate to the Red Canaries. Loyal to a fault, he prioritizes everyone before himself, even neglecting his needs. He believes that his isolated life is worth it, but his feelings change the more Scott talks his way into his life. Is he ready to love again, even after what happened to Ren?

He has a couple of scars, some big ones on his chest. He has a locket and tattoo of a crown and a necklace trinket of the first monster he killed as a boy.

‘Bad Boys’, the Solidarity brothers.

A bunch of new designs here! I referenced their bad boy skins so they have similar ‘leather jackets’. I’m excited for you all to learn about them and their history.

‘Grian Solidarity.’

The youngest adopted brother of the trio. He’s chaotic, but he’s shifty. His birth parents were from the Watchers, but after their death, he was entrusted to the Solidarity family to care for him. They died when he was young, so he doesn’t remember them. He loves his brothers to death and does what he can to protect them and his crew.

He, like his other brothers, keeps a locket with their family photo. He wears a yellow bandana with his name crudely stitched on it. Strangely, he has some similarities to Pearl…

‘Joel Solidarity.’

The awkward, funny middle child. He has the most muscle out of the brothers but he masks it with his pleasant behavior. He quickly accepted Grian into the family and shared his interest in starting the hunter crew. When they were younger, the two would sneak away from their older brother to meet Martyn and Impulse by the docks. Currently, he’s engaged to Lizzie Shadow and is waiting for winter so they can finally tie the knot.

He keeps a falcon feather in his hat as his parents were falconers. He wears his red bandana, also with crude stitches of his name, on his head.

‘Jimmy Solidarity.’

The oldest and most emotional of the brothers. He wasn’t particularly interested in becoming a hunter, preferring to spend time with the birds and become a falconer, but he loved his brothers so he went with it. He’s impulsive, stubborn, but a wonderful and simple person all around.

He keeps his red bandana on his belt, with neat stitches of his name. He has a braided bracelet and a tattoo on his neck.

...and he’s dead.

...or is he?

There’s a LOT going on with these designs, a lot of spoilers in them so what I’ve said could or could not be hints to what’s to come! Not sure when the next design dump would be, but I think my upcoming post would be fun, particularly for those who want to read the story ;) all in due time.

oh, also new life Scott is partially ginger. I predicted that HA- /j I’ll probably whip up art of those two bc. That’s incredibly funny-

Which one of these characters/ designs is your favorite? Let me know! :D

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 6 months

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vampire king

pairing: dick grayson x batgirl!reader

wc: 745

warnings: blood i think. should be clean

A/N: idea came from the dc comics event DC vs Vampires. yall should read. prompt "one way or another, you're gonna die tonight" from@nightprompts

divider from @firefly-graphics

masterlist / dick grayson

🎧 vampire

vampires were taking over the streets of gotham. it was quiet at first, only the upper class had already been the mythical creatures or they were turned at the idea of mortality the greed of being young and rich forever.

slowly people were disappearing off the streets only to come back looking ghostly, sunken cheeks and pointed teeth baring two holes into victims skin to suck them dry of blood.

when you first heard batman talking about it you thought it was some prank he was actually in on, but when you visited the ME office and saw the bodies for yourself you quickly realized the severity of the situation.

batman called the justice league for a worldwide level emergency. gotham was the main priority since it was quickly being swallowed by the monsters, you and the others could only do so much with only gadgets and stun guns.

“nightwing and batgirl, both of you take lower gotham. the docks, shipping yards, junkyards. any place dark and dangerous for the normal person.” batman gave commands to groups and duos quickly, everyone split up to their locations.

“you think theirs a higher up?” questioning nightwing through your helmet comms. your motorcycle zipping through the top quiet streets while heading to a north-east shopping yard. the two of you were side to side, nightwing zooming just a little quicker ahead.

“probably. usually there always needs to be one to grow more vampires. they always need a king or queen.” he sounded bored while replying. “keep your head clear, almost there.” then revved his engine and sped off.

powering down your cycle killed the sound and lights leaving you in a dimly lit space with only the sounds of the water close by. pulling your helmet off slowly and clipping it to your handles, you noticed he wasn’t anywhere nearby. it kept you on alert.

“nightwing,” pressing on your wrist com. you waited two seconds before calling his name again. “nightwing, come in.” cautious steps deeper into the maze of shipping containers.

a sharp thud stopped you short, gadgets at the ready. no noise followed so you continued further in. then it came again so you called out, “come out and this will be over quickly.”

no response. “i’m not here to play games. either cooperate or get ready for a fight.” flicking a batarang open.

a deep lifeless chuckling filled the air, a large shadow stalking over white and green containers. “you’re very funny, batgirl.” small knocks echoing out, “thinking you're a threat to anyone. such a small human, weak boned girl. i can easily snap you like that of a toothpick.”

“why don’t you step out of the shadows and follow thru with that threat.” shuffling your feet and legs into a combat stance.

another low chuckle followed by a sign, “oh i will. can’t wait to see your reaction to this news.”

your face screwed up and before you ask what they were talking about, they step out the shadows and stood illuminated by over headlights. hands held out at their sides, a twist grin.

“dick?” body relaxing itself. not understanding what was happening. “this- this isn’t funny, dick!”

his grin twisting further, “oh, this isn’t some joke, y/n. you were asking about a higher up. so i thought you deserved to know who that was.” stepping further in, your heart pounding.

“i’m the king. and no matter what happens tonight, your gonna die. whether that be permanent or immortal is up to you.” hands sitting on his hips with his head cocked. white eyes emotionless and face stone still.

you couldn’t help the quiver to your lips or the crack in your voice, “this isn’t you, dick.”

he pouted and kissed his teeth, “oh sweetheart, this is me. well, dick has been gone for a long time, probably six months at this point. but that doesn’t matter, time is nonexistent when you’ve been alive for thousands of years.” he took slow, calculated strides closer. his hands now held behind his back, still carrying himself strong and high.

a sniffle of your nose before sitting back to your defensive position. eyes steeling hard and flexing your muscles hard, the sharpest point of your weapon aimed at the enemy. dick, the vampire king stopped short of a foot away. arms still held tight behind him as he cocked his head again, a mirthless quirk of his lips.

“are you ready to die tonight, mighty batgirl?”

#dick grayson angst #dick grayson fic #dick grayson fluff #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #nightwing imagine #dc comics nightwing #nightwing angst #nightwing x reader #nightwing #dc comics imagine #dc comics dick grayson #dc comcics x reader

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lets-try-some-writing · 4 months

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Action! Chapter 1

Having just graduated from Iacon's acting academy, Orion Pax is beyond excited to begin hunting for his first big role. And after vorns of doing nothing but play extras, a position has finally opened to play a part in not just any media, but his favorite novel of all things. No, he's going to play the role of Optimus Prime! A tyrannical ruler in a fantasy novel that he lived and breathed during his studies.

Unbeknownst to Orion Pax, he isn't going to be part of a high quality production. Instead, everything he is going to experience will be one hundred percent real.

(Yet another Au for yall. This one I have been sitting on thinking about endlessly for MONTHS.)

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

Orion didn't like to come off as ungrateful, but he had expected acting to be a more… open field of work.

He had at one point considered taking on an archival role, but that went flying out the window the moment he saw the stars work on screen for the first time. Part of him regretted walking away from the Archives that cycle, but Ratchet, a notorious old school actor, was his original inspiration. He had been lucky enough to go to one of the elder mech’s interviews and heard all about how Ratchet walked to Iacon and dragged himself to stardome. It was inspiring to hear of the tales of struggle and strife, the corruption behind the sets, and ultimately the satisfaction of a job well done and a character perfectly played.

One thing led to another, and before long, what really got him interested in the career path was when he began meeting other stars in person. That interview had him tumbling down a rabbit hole, and from there he used his meager paycheck working at the docks to get close enough to the big names to ask them a few questions, or at least observe from a distance. Starscream broke any and all stereotypes with his unusual tendency to play both femmes and mechs in film. The advice Orion received when he asked how to become a great actor was simple.

��Kid, if you want to get big, be DRAMATIC! No one wants to spend hard earned shanix to watch a mech look bored.”

It was sound advice, and that day, Orion made the decision to understand the craft of acting. He got a chance to attend several meet and greets for other big stars such as Megatronus, a world renown actor applauded for both his heroic and villainous roles. The elder mech had smiled kindly when Orion held up his datapad for a signature and asked how to become an actor. His advice was promptly engraved into Orion’s mind alongside Starscream’s.

“Don’t just pretend when you are playing a character. You need to become the character in mind, body, and spark as much as possible. The audience knows when a performance is forced.”

Shortly afterwards, he was lucky enough to run into Arcee and Cliffjumper, a stunt double duo whose advice amounted to a simple statement. Arcee, had touched him on the arm with a knowing smile and chuckled.

“Be authentic! Do your own moves as much as you can. You want to sell the scene no matter what, even if it gets you a few cuts and dents.”

Clffjumper on the other servo had patted Orion on the shoulder with a lopsided grin and given far more… eccentric advice.

“If you can jump off a cliff, JUMP OFF THAT CLIFF!”

Orion wasn’t totally sure if it was meant to be a joke or not.

Whatever the case, he added their wisdom to his long term memory files and continued his hunt for further inspiration, a goal forming in his spark. He spoke with Soundwave, a famous actor known for his monster roles. The mech was known to be of the type to never speak on set, and his advice was grim, but undoubtedly rational.

“To act, you must know every facet of the being you are to depict. You must feel their pain, know their burdens. Only then can the weariness of their sparks show clearly in your optics through the screen.”

Ultra Magnus, a fantastic director, offered him a nugget of wisdom as well when he managed to harass the office the mech worked at enough to get his email responded to.

“Look, acting isn’t just using your vocalizer and manipulating body language. You need skills, actual abilities to compensate for anything you end up missing. The audience is far more forgiving toward an actor who gives it their all.”

Bulkhead and Wheeljack, special effects masters at the top of their field, had not so subtly given him a datapad on the production of explosives and other such materials before flicking his audial and offering their advice. Bulkhead was the most rational.

“The acting is only half the battle kiddo. You need to make a statement, preferably with explosives and a dramatic stride out of a burning building.”

Wheeljack suggested arson, and honestly upon seeing a video of some of the special effects master’s work, Orion couldn’t help but find himself pretty much sold on the concept. Wheeljack’s words were cause for concern, but they were undeniably correct when the results were in front of his optics.

“If you need to blow it up to make it look good, then by all means BLOW IT UP!”

Knockout, a makeup artist hired on every big set for his miraculous transformations, had been the most difficult to get a meeting with. But through pestering Starscream, one of Knockout’ usual clients, and through a few underhanded online transactions, Orion got the chance to ask the artist his usual question. Knockout’s advice was… interesting to say the least. Interesting, but much like all the other nuggets of wisdom, it happened to be fully applicable in light of the results.

“Darling, you have already proven to be as determined as the press. You don’t need to worry about becoming a fabulous actor. What you should worry about is getting a camera! Gigs don’t come easy, and looking as stunning as possible is the best way to get attention!”

Breakdown thankfully was not nearly as hard to track down as his partner. After having harassed Knockout, Breakdown seemed to almost sense his arrival at his next meet and greet. It wasn’t often a behind the scenes mechanic got recognized enough to have fans, but Knockout never shut up about how well Breakdown handled the lights during filming. Fans were inevitable, and Orion abused that fact to get into the rather niche interest group and meet the mech. His wisdom was much like his partner’s in rationality.

“A lot of people overlook the lighting on screen, but lighting is essential to a good production. Lighting sets the mood and adds subtle emotion to the scene. Too much, too dark, or the wrong color destroys the atmosphere. If you are ever in doubt, keep it simple and do a classic overhead light.”

With his shanix running low, Orion was unable to get in with any more big names. However, by pure chance, he won a raffle and managed to get a question in with two famous sparkling actors turned drama T.V specialists. Bumblebee and Smokescreen were beloved by audiences across Cybertron, and the former’s advice was quickly burned into Orion’s mind.

“It doesn’t matter who you are playing. Give that character justice through their connections. You must feel the bonds your character has as if they were your own. I know I cried more than once when co-stars who played a parental role in different films had to leave for another set.”

Smokescreen’s wisdom received similar treatment as he smiled widely and promptly forced himself to cry with such gusto that Orion was genuinely scared until the actor laughed it off as a joke.

“Don’t just feel it buddy! SHOW it! Every connection your character has should be plain to see on your face through their emotions! If they have any that is. Just, keep in character. Oh, and a little tip, learn to cry on the spot. It will save you so much trouble with the special effects team.”

Orion hoarded everything he learned like a drake, and despite being dirt poor by the time he sold half his spark to get in to meet a mech going by the working title of “Predaking”, he was excited to hear what the master puppeteer and monster designer had to say. He never expected to get close, but Predaking saw him amidst the crowd and called him over gleefully.

“Here’s a little secret of the trade. I am not joking when I say that accent and presence matter, even in monsters. If you are working with a character, you should know how to pronounce and announce yourself like them. If you are a beast, growl. If you are a King, dominate.”

Finally, bankrupt and with only a feeble dream, Orion held his poor financial decisions wearily in his spark and sat out on the streets, unable to pay his rent after so long chasing idols. His obsession had gone too far and he was paying the price for it. But it seemed Primus had taken pity, perhaps due to his stupidity. And on that grim cycle an umbrella had been held over his helm as he huddled, trying to escape the acid rain.

Ratchet, the mech who originally sent him spiraling down his path of poor life decisions, stood over him with a raised optical ridge. Orion had been too tired to be fully awed at the time, but when Ratchet had offered him some shanix and a hotel room for a week, Orion had listened closely to the advice the elder mech had to offer.

“Kid, your dedication is impressive, but you need to always have a backup plan. Throwing everything into your goals is admirable, but by the Allspark, make sure there is always a little something left over for you, for your survival. On set, on the streets. It doesn’t matter. You are a living being and your life comes first.”

It had been a harsh wakeup call, but it had been what Orion needed. He stopped chasing stars for a while and instead moved on to saving up, one shanix at a time to get into the most reputable acting academy he could feasibly afford. He’d learned all he could from watching with starstruck optics, and he wasn’t going to test Primus’s patience more than he already had.

And so began his journey. It was rough. He did what he could to prepare for a rainy cycle, and Ratchet’s advice did indeed save him from going without fuel more than a few times, but there were still instances where he had to cut corners. Many long cycles were spent living off cheap rations worse than the stuff given to military personnel. He had to turn off the electricity in his small apartment several times in order to avoid the bill, and he still almost cried every time he remembered the prices for the textbooks he needed once he finally got into the academy.

But vorns of hard work later, he got in and graduated in one piece. Now a certified and newly graduated actor, he was over the moon and more than ready to hunt for his first big gig. Things had been tight for a very long time, but in his mind, he was finally free of those constraints.

He found out that assumption was wrong very quickly.

Knockout hadn’t been kidding when he said getting a camera would be the hardest part of his career. Why did no sets accept graduates? Even when he applied as an extra, he usually found himself rejected because he was ‘too bright’ or ‘too distracting’. By the Primes all he’d done for one audition was lift some datapads but that had apparently been too much. They said he was too energetic for his place, too…

Enthusiastic.

He got odd jobs, worked a few small sets as a minute background character, an extra passing in the hall more often than not. But he kept up a smile, just waiting for the big gig that would shoot him into stardom just like all the actors and specialists he looked up to. He never forgot the cycle when he finally got his wish.

It had been an inconspicuous thing at first. A small advertisement online for a film production based on a fantasy series that was neither particularly popular nor necessarily unknown. Orion had read his fair share of novels over the course of his life, and while he wasn’t exactly proud to admit it, he’d gone down the rabbit hole of poorly written or otherwise unknown works of fiction to make his life more bearable when things got tough. As such, while it took him a moment, he quickly recognized the series being turned into film.

It was a simple fantasy series set in an alternate version of Cybertron, one where the Primes of old still reigned. It was a historical piece in a sense, in large part due to the inclusion of actual practices and traditions from the past ages of Cybertron, before the Quintessons arrived and were promptly driven back. The main character of the series wasn’t exactly static, often jumping between the sons of the Prime, Smokescreen and Bumblebee, and the Lord High Protector, Megatron of Kaon. Looking back it was rather odd that they were named after the actors, or the actors after them. But Orion didn’t linger on that fact.

The series was a dramatic revolution. Optimus Prime, the last reigning Prime, was a tyrant who ruled with cruel disregard for the lives of others. His inner circle planned to assassinate and ultimately did kill him later on in the novel after a series of puzzles, political schemes, and secrets being brought to light. It was a fascinating book, one that Orion was rather fond of and would even consider his favorite. So while it was certainly odd for a film company to turn such a series into anything meant for the holoscreen considering its lack of popularity, Orion said a quiet prayer and sent in an application to the studio.

He almost spit out his energon when exactly a cycle later, he got a confirmation message from the studio letting him know he had not only gotten a role in the film, but that he had been given one of the most influential roles in the entire production. He wasn’t going to be the Lord High Protector, nor was he to be either of the Prime’s sons. No, he was to be Optimus Prime himself.

He may or may not have run around his apartment giggling gleefully and giving thanks to Primus while clutching his cracked datapad like his life depended on it. He checked his device again and again, not believing what he was reading until he received a second message from the studio asking him to come in for pre-shoot training and preparation for his role. Orion did not hesitate to gather up his small stash of belongings that he thought he would require and hop onto the nearest train heading west toward the ruins of Crystal City.

Sure, it was really strange that filming preparation was being done in the abandoned Crystal City, but he didn’t feel like judging when he finally had his big gig. Nope, he wasn’t going to question it. Not when he was going to be playing Optimus Prime. The biggest villain of the series. What could be a better debut than that?

“Welcome Orion. I am the director of this set. We already have everything set up so we can begin your preliminary training immediately.”

“Oh! Of course. But may I have your designation Sir?”

“I am Alpha Trion. It is a pleasure to be working with you. Please head over to the tent over there so that you can receive your schedule for the next few stellar cycles.”

It felt rather rushed, being brought onto set and then immediately kicked into an intensive training program. But once again, Orion didn’t want to doubt. Alpha Trion was a nice enough director and took great care to ensure Orion knew all the rules of the set and how filming was going to happen.

His Co-stars were apparently already on set filming the prologue and backstory sequences. Orion was a late hire since the last mech who signed on as Optimus Prime had apparently been in a bad accident and was no longer able to perform. He was not going to be able to have any behind the scenes meetings with his Co-stars since filming was already in progress. He would need to get to know them on set and while in character. Orion was also explicitly told that filming was going to be done differently than what was typically normal.

Filming would run almost like a reality T.V show. There would be cameras everywhere hidden throughout the set in all public areas. Essentially, Orion would be in character all the time except for when he was in his assigned quarters and perhaps the washracks if there weren’t any extra scenes planned. He didn’t remember there being anything incriminating or… suggestive in the series, but directors were known to adapt novels to their liking. He would have to be careful either way.

The only other serious thing he was told was somewhat unnerving. He would have no direct contact with the crew, access to stunt doubles, or the ability to speak to the director once he was on set. The reasoning behind it was that they wanted everything to be as realistic and immersive as possible. It seemed a lot like hogwash to Orion, but once they began his preliminary training, he decided to lodge those concerns away and focus on his studies. He wanted to play his role well. If he flopped here, no studio would ever hire him.

Sword training, dueling etiquette, anything relating to politics, royal manners, proper resource management, strategy, warfare, language, literature, history, arts, economy, geography, survival training, public speaking, and so much more were on his todo list. He lost track of the classes and cycles bled into one another. It felt rather silly learning the twenty seven made up languages used in the novels and the similarly intensive made up history of the fantasy world. But he endured it all diligently. It was kind of fun having to memorize the fantasy maps and learn how to sing elegantly so that ancient rites seen in the novel could be replicated.

It was tiring work, and he was fairly certain that a few million shanix had to have gone into the replication of models and teachers that were hired to educate him. The studio must have had high hopes for their film to put so much into him. The director himself didn't seem concerned in the slightest about profits the whole time. He never even talked to Orion outside of that first instance until he had spent roughly eight stellar cycles studying.

“I believe you are ready to head to the set and meet the makeup team. Do not be alarmed at any frame augmentations. They are all perfectly natural. A chip will be inserted into your processors to feed you information on set, largely so that you need never break character.”

Alpha Trion looked like he would rather be chewing on rocks as he spat out the information. Orion was rightfully suspicious in his opinion. But after almost a full vorn of dedicating his very spark to learning everything under Luna 1 and 2 needed to play the role of Optimus Prime, he would be slagged before he backed out now. Besides, he enjoyed feeling tested and trained cables strain beneath his armor, a side effect of never ending sword training.

“Thank you Sir! I will be sure to play my part perfectly!”

Orion assured as he was led to a space bridge and ushered through. He smiled as he passed to the other side, meeting the gazes of over a dozen rather malicious looking mecha who grabbed him and laid him down on a medical berth before he could wheeze out a greeting. Next thing he knew, he was injected with a sedative of some sort and promptly awoke aching absolutely everywhere in a berth that was not his own.

He sat up, rubbing his helm and feeling the definitive change in structure. He frowned and stood up on wobbly pedes, gawking at his newfound height as he shakily made his way toward the only mirror in the room. He gasped when he saw his reflection. The mech in front of him was, by all definitions, gorgeous. Strong and quite clearly made for war, a stunning set of armor adorned him. Gold highlights graced his plating and strong shoulders now guarded him. Blue hips swayed with every step and long strong legs shone in the light, covered in small glyphs he couldn’t even properly read from how well they blended in. His arm guards were equally ornamented, and he hardly had time to process his wide yet sharp optics before the door to his room burst open and a terrified looking servant crashed to the ground.

“Forgive me my Lord!” The servant wept, curling up on the ground as they hurriedly tried to gather up what looked to be a cube of energon. Instinct told Orion to help, but before he could act, a message flashed across his vision.

[[You are on set now. Play your part Orion Pax. From this cycle forward, you are Optimus Prime.]]

Was it highly unorthodox and probably breaking at least a few labor laws? Absolutely. Was Orion backing out now? Not to save his life.

He took a deep vent, feeling a new weight pulse in his spark chamber. When he refocused, he cleared his mind of distractions and settled himself on one designation. Over and over he repeated it.

‘I am Optimus Prime, leader of the Cybertronian Empire, and I am a tyrant worthy of death.’

He repeated to himself internally as he scowled at the servant, a pleasant frown adorning his seemingly untarnishable face.

“What is your designation?” He questioned sharply. The servant shook in renewed terror at his words which flowed so smoothly from his glossa that Orion, or rather Optimus, almost choked. The language of the novel came easily to him now, more so than he was otherwise sure it was meant to. But he did not question as he grabbed the servant by the back of their neck guard and threw them out of the door, doing his best to use his training to ensure that his fellow actor wasn’t actually damaged.

The servant skidded across the ground, slamming into the wall of the hallway with a groan. Orion- Optimus cringed internally. He had limited practical experience. He would need to do better in the future to ensure his fellow actors weren’t damaged. As much as he loved a dramatic role, he didn’t want to make any actual enemies. He would need to find out the actor’s name and give them a gift basket or something when he had a free moment.

But for now, he had a part to play and a landscape to very hastily memorize.

“How dare you. Insolent whelp. Have you no experience using the frame Primus granted you?” Optimus stalked forward, his voice deep and resonating, yet also surprisingly smooth. Even when portraying anger, his voice still flowed like a perfectly calm stream. Whatever mods the makeup team gave him, he desperately wanted to keep once he finished with this role.

“Forgive me my Lord! It was an accident! Y-Your presence startled me! You’ve been in stasis for almost a vorn!” Oh? So that was how the director was playing off his absence. Optimus couldn’t help but find it odd that he had been told his co-stars were filming other scenes while apparently the main story was still progressing, but perhaps there were details he was missing. He would have to talk to his co-stars.

“A vorn.” He practically growled, his perfectly modeled frame not even instinctually turning to flared plating to get his point across. By the pits the makeup team had done him up nicely.

“I’m sorry!” The servant wailed, clutching at their chassis to protect themselves from a potential attack. Optimus internally wanted to praise their acting. It was honestly phenomenal how well they could force their tears and the sheer terror in their optics. He would need to ask for lessons off set sometime.

“Enough. Cease your pathetic whimpering. I require an immediate update of all that has come to pass during my absence.” The servant scurried to their pedes, weeping even as they shakily bowed and gestured for Optimus to follow. He obliged without question, taking care to stride forward with elegance that had practically been beaten into him during training. He felt stupid walking with a gentle sway of his hips while his shoulders were held back in his old frame. But with these augments, it felt right.

He was going to have so much fun making scenes as the notorious tyrant the people of the novel feared.

“Your office my Lord. W-Would you like me to summon your Council?” He had a Council? Optimus wracked his mind for who the mecha in question could be as he stared at the gaudy doors before him.

“Who would that entail?” He questioned with authority lacing his tone. The servant shook even harder and again Optimus applauded their acting abilities. True skill from a mere background character. The director had not spared a single detail it seemed.

“Currently they are scattered, according to your will prior to your fall into stasis. T-The Lord High Protector, the Young Lords, and of course your personal physician can be summoned if you desire. We can also begin summoning your spymaster and anyone else-” Optimus raised a servo, silencing the servant as he opened the office doors and stepped into a room all but drowning in paperwork. He wanted to cry as soon as he witnessed the pile of work to be done. Did the director really have to make things this detailed? It felt overkill really.

“Summon all of my Council, everyone of importance. I refuse to be left in the dark.” He ordered as he strode forward, calmly and regally taking a seat at his desk. His expression remained perfectly composed as he sifted through the datapads before him, seeing incredibly detailed documents that looked real enough to pass into law if Optimus didn’t know they had to be forged for realism’s sake.

“By your will Lord Prime.” The servant hurried away, closing the door behind them and leaving Optimus to his monstrous pile of datapads. The director had said there would be cameras in all public areas. Considering this area was not exactly private, Optimus elected to keep in character. This was a good chance to put his training to good use anyway.

“Primus protect me.” He muttered in the old tongue used in the novel. It felt right strangely enough, but he chalked it up to the thrill of being on set as he picked up the nearest datapad and promptly dug through every conceivable loophole in the document in order to get the best deal. Sure, he was playing the role of tyrant, but these documents were all for show. If he simply took the time to actually make it seem as though he were dutifully working on them, then his task would be complete.

He would rather not sit around being bored for groons on end. So he might as well actually try and make something of the documents for the benefit of the Empire. Would they actually come into law? No. This was all a set after all. But was it rather fun putting together the perfect little documents to improve efficiency as if he were playing a real time strategy game?

Absolutely.

“My reign shall endure, regardless of the price.” He smiled, taking care to gaze off into the distance in what probably seemed like a really stupid way to an outsider but was sure to appear amazing to any camera. Then, maintaining his new persona, Optimus allowed himself to drift into his work. No use wasting energy until his co-stars arrived. The director had mentioned that the set was rather large and that it was taking place on a whole new colony world to add to the realism.

He couldn’t wait to see who was playing the roles of the other characters in the novel.

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voidandradiance · 2 years

Text

They'd split his grandmother's inheritance not quite down the middle, sitting on a stone brick floor in the dead of night with half a bottle of cider between them and far too much magic buzzing in the air. They'd tried to keep it fair. They'd tried to keep it balanced.

That's their job, now, after all.

i could not get the beginning of this out of my head so. here you go.

#retirement home posting #mianite #docks duo #is andor holding a red solo cup? maybe!#i think i gave myself some sort of disease by writing this fic #if ur wonder why shits purple its bc that's jordans portal in the fortress of fury #somebody sometime #<- tag for this fic now lol

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xxkitty13 · 6 months

Text

Halloween Special

LA Buggy x Fem Reader- One Shot

NSFW, Violence, Blood (slight gore)

A/N: I know Halloween is over, but I was not able to post this sooner. If you're still in the Halloween spirit or just wanting some smut, enjoy!

It is the night before Halloween, the local bar is filled with people celebrating the arrival of the spooky holiday. Tourists love to visit this particular island due to its large festival on Hallows' Eve. Boats pack the dock; visitors swarm the lively town in hopes to get wasted. Despite the variety of people, the island has not run into any problems. This will all soon change.

The bar reeked of alcohol, drunk men stumble in and out the doors. Women too pass their limits, dancing the night away. With the arrival of the tourist, single locals took the opportunity to find some fun. The worn out sailors were easy prey, but not everyone looked for a fling. Unfortunately, y/n was dragged into this mess. Her friends, Syalie and Blev, would get bored of the men in their town. Every year they looked forward for the fresh meat.

"Loosen up girl, dance with us," the slim tall blonde slurred.

"Syalie is right. We can't be the only ones having fun tonight," the woman with pink hair screamed. She is the shortest of the trio, but always managed to stand out when they partied.

"You guys are passed drunk."

Her friends only laughed as they sandwiched her at the dance floor. She too had her fair share of drinks, even so she did not like to black out at parties. You never know who’s watching.

Nevertheless, the ambiance at the party seemed safe enough. She joined the dancing duo, enjoying the music. The alcohol is getting to her, she swayed her hips away not caring how ridiculous it might be. Y/n began to get carried away before she slipped. She fell back, hitting a cloaked man at the nearby table. The other covered figures gasped. She sobered up and immediately stood up. The man looked at the empty mug and large wet stains on the bottom half of his body.

"I am so sorry..."

Her hands covered her face in embarrassment. It is a good thing no one else noticed the small incident as people were too focused on partying.

The man gripped his fist and banged it on the table before looking at the woman. Y/n felt her face become hot, scared of what the man will do to her. Her legs trembled, slowly backing away.

"Don't worry about it"— he raised his gaze at her—"you'll just have to repay me another time."

Even though his hood covered his identity, she could clearly see his green-piercing eyes staring into her soul. That look felt surreal. Feeling uneasy of the situation, she only nodded back and grabbed her friends.

"Please can we leave?"

"I don't know, can you?" Blev's head bobbed, giggling away.

"I'm being serious, I'm scared."

"Ugh okay. There's no hot guys here anyway," Syalie mumbled.

Y/n grabbed the two women and barged out of the bar. She could still feel the mysterious man's eyes burning through her back. There's something sinister about him and she did not want to find out. She shook that weird notion out her mind, hoping to never see him again.

🕷⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆🕷

The following morning the townspeople prepared for the night's festival. Meanwhile, the girls stayed in the comfort of their beds. They awoke with a massive hangover and had pains throughout their body. Y/n overheard Blev rustling above her— the two slept on a bunk bed. The three shared a small house together and all had small jobs to pay their monthly rent. Y/n and Blev shared the master bedroom and Syalie occupied the second room of the house.

With groggy eyes, y/n sat up, staring into space. She had a nightmare prior to waking up. A dark presence watched over her in the dream, always lurking at every corner. It brought shivers down her spine. She shook that weird feeling away and hesitantly got out of bed. They have a long day ahead of them.

The women volunteered to help set up the plaza. Balloons were attached to light posts, skeletons hanged at the tree branches, spiderwebs overlayed the bushes, and other spooky items were displayed. The festival would begin at sunset, they hurried home to get ready.

It’s not Halloween without costumes. Y/n dressed as a jester, Blev as a vampire, and Syalie as a cowgirl. Simple outfits to assist at the food stands. They would still enjoy the event after the stands close and the actual party would begin once the children go to bed.

“Whew, what a night. I’m glad our shift is over with,” Blev sighed in relief.

“Well let’s get going then,” y/n said closing the door of the stand.

Not even taking a step away, a man who’s dressed as a pirate approached the woman.

“Am I too late?”

They all looked at each other confused.

“Yes, it’s closed,” Syalie replied.

“Aw, well that’s too bad. I was hoping I would’ve made it in time.”

The pirate walked closer. “You better reopen,” he pointed at Syalie.

“What? No. I said we’re closed.”

“Wrong.” He then whistled loudly, three other men dressed as pirates emerged from the bushes.

“Destroy that stand and the others while you’re at it.”

“Yes captain!” they shouted.

The gang of pirates broke the windows of each stand, ripping apart the cash registers. They threw all the money in large bags, only leaving behind destruction.

“No! What’s wrong with you guys, stop playing pirates and gives us back the money!” Blev yelled.

“Oh honey, we’re the real deal,” the captain laughed.

He noticed all women wore matching bracelets. Each one made of gold— jackpot.

“Give me those bracelets,” he demanded.

“No, these belong to us,” Blev stated.

“If I have to cut your hands off for them, so be it,” the pirate threatened.

Y/n immediately threw her bracelet to the man, nudging her friends to do the same. They hesitated, but there was nothing they could do about it.

“Thank you ladies, it was nice doing business you,” he snickered.

“Come on fellas, to the ship!”

The gang ran off to the woods, leaving the mess they made at the street.

“We could have fought them off,” Syalie huffed.

“No, we’re weak. Our lives are more valuable than those bracelets,” y/n said.

“I don’t care. We worked hard for those and we will get them back.”

Syalie stormed into their stand, pulling out a large kitchen knife.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going after them,” she stormed off to the woods.

“Are you crazy? They’ll kill you! Y/n what do we do?” Blev shouted.

“Come on, let’s stop her before she gets hurt.”

The two chase after their friend, who began to quicken her pace. They called out to Syalie, but she already sprinted into the dark woods.

“It’s so dark, how can she track them with no light?” Blev questioned, breathing heavily.

“I don’t kn-”

A loud scream echoed. It’s high pitched, most likely from a woman.

“Syalie!”

The women hurried their pace. The screams became louder and louder. A light emerged as they ran closer and soon came across the gang of pirates. Syalie rustled against the captain, who had her at a chokehold.

He laughed, watching the poor girl struggle. He snatched the knife out of her hand and pointed it to her neck.

“Let her go!” Y/n and Blev yelled.

The pirates, who held torches, stopped their scene and looked at the women.

“Well, well, well. . . looks like we have more fun coming our way.”

He placed the sharp part of the knife on Syalie’s neck.

“You’re fools and now you’ll die with your friend,” he cackled.

The man lifted his arm up, ready to slit her throat. Syalie closed her eyes awaiting her gruesome death, but seconds passed by and nothing happened. She opened her eyes and felt a warm liquid drip on her neck. The knife dropped to the ground and more liquid dripped on her clothes.

With his grip gone, the woman managed to free herself. The captain fell face forward and that’s when they noticed a large blade protruding out his mouth. Syalie gaped at the sight, he’s dead.

His crew met a similar fate. All falling one by one. The women scream, hearing the gurgling sounds from the dying men. They crouched to ground, hoping not to get hit by the flying weapons.

A sinister laugh echoed around them. The sound of footsteps drew close. A faint light slowly emerged from the other side of the woods.

“You know, it’s rude not to say thank you.”

Y/n looked up to see the man. His torch covered his face, though she noticed he wore a large hat. Taking a closer look, it seemed to be a captain’s hat. She gasped, they’re more pirates on the island.

The mysterious man walked towards the dead captain, retrieving the blade out his skull. Blood oozed out, only making Syalie gag.

He placed the torch in the same hole he took out the blade, burying it deep. The pirate then sat on his dead body. They could all see his face now. His red nose shined brightly from the flame’s light. The glitter on his face shimmered with every flick the fire made. The face paint resembled close to y/n’s makeup, only lacking the cross bones and large painted mouth. Y/n is captivated by the man’s features, whose cheekbones stood out the most, giving him a sculptured look.

“Now I only came to take out the competition, but I just remembered that I’m missing my compensation,”— he pointed at y/n— “you owe me.”

Perplexed by this, her eyebrows furrowed. “Owe you? I don’t know who you are.”

“Tsk,” he shook his head. “You caused a mess at the bar last night. Do you know how uncomfortable it is for a cold drink to fall on your groin?”

It took her a minute to digest the accusation, then it clicked. He’s the cloaked man she accidentally spilled the drink on.

“That was you?” she gasped.

"Ah, I see you remembered now."

"Why did you do that?! Now he's going to kill us too!" Blev angrily called out.

"I-It was an accident, I swear!"

"Who are you anyway? You better not hurt my friend," Syalie grunted, holding her bruised neck.

"Me? Does my look not ring a bell?"

The three women looked at each other, having no clue about the man's identity.

"With that big nose of yours, you're obviously more of a clown than a pirate," Syalie giggled.

The pirate's face frowned. "Nose?" He rose from his seat, angered by the comment. "What did you say? I'd shut my mouth if I were you or you'll end up like him." He picked up the torch, now covered in blood, and stomped on the man's skull.

The crunch sound made everyone gag in disgust. Brain matter had splashed out, little specks hit Blev, making her freak out. Y/n could not bear to watch the indented skull crack before them. The clown pirate removed his bloody boot and wiped the red liquid on the ground.

"I'm Buggy. . . and I'll be your worst nightmare," he boasted.

He approached y/n, who shook in fear. With her shaking legs she able to take a couple of steps back.

"As it turns out, this island doesn't have much to offer. However, me and my crew found something worth our time," he eyed y/n up and down, giving her a devious smile. “Cute costume.”

"You all will be given a head start to be fair. I'll give you 2 minutes to hide before we hunt you down."

"Hunt? We're not prey," Blev said.

Ignoring her comment, "Once you're in our hands, there will be no escape."

He chuckled, retrieving back from y/n. "Let the hunt begin."

Buggy blew his torch out and the rest of the fallen torches from the dead crew went out too. It is pitch black now. The women, in utter fear, ran away from the spot. They could no longer see each other, but the jingles of the jester hat helped them stay close.

"Let's stick together," y/n huffed out.

"Okay!" The two agreed.

They ran with all their might, barely avoiding stumps and branches on the ground. The lights from the plaza became visible ahead. It's a small hint of relief, but time is still ticking.

"What do we do? We can't let him find us. I'm so scared," Blev cried.

"We don't have time to think, let's keep moving forward. The crowd at the festival should hide us," y/n grabbed their hands and rushed into the plaza.

"We should tell the police, they'll help us," Syalie mentioned. Her friends nod in agreement.

People were already drunk and danced away in the middle of the plaza. The smell of smoke and sweat filled the air. This year's festival brought in a larger crowd, making it impossible to move around. The women tried to hold onto each other, but the dancing people would bump into them. Blev was the first to get swallowed in the crowd. Y/n tried had lost her grip as a large man shoved against her.

"Blev!"

"Y/n! Keep moving, I'll find my way to the police station!"

Her and Syalie continued sliding their way in the chaotic mess. Syalie felt a pair of hands grab the sides of her hips. She snapped her head to see the owner of the hands.

"Where are you going little lady?" The drunken man mummbled.

"Ew let me go!" She slapped his hand away.

The angered man swung at her, but she managed to avoid the hit as the man's fist connected with another person. A fight broke out between the two and Syalie was shoved against the people moving out of the way.

"Syalie, where did you go?!"

Y/n, in midst of the screaming, had no luck. Her friends are now separated from each other, this is not good. Regardless, she composed herself and continued to find a way out. It was not long before she made it out of the suffocating crowd. She regained her breath and looked around the vicinity. It's to her luck a police man stood watch at the door of a building.

"Please, I need help!" she ran towards them. "There's someone trying to kill us!"

The cop turned around and gave her a puzzled look. "What are you talking about? Are you drunk?" He questioned.

She stood before him and realized it was not a cop. He was only waiting for his friend to come out of the haunted house. She stood alone now, the police station happened to be at the other side of crowd. It would take another blow on her time, it’s worth a shot. As she took a step forward, a gliding motion slipped past her head. The blade hit the door, causing a small crack.

Y/n looked back from where it came from and felt her heart sink. It’s Buggy. His eyes seem to devour her whole. Without a second thought she entered inside the haunted house.

Right off the rift, a scare actor jumped at her. She yelped, only making her panicked state worse. The door flinged opened, Buggy knocked the actor to the ground as he entered.

“Times up,” he snickered.

Adrenaline rushed through her blood vessels as she bolted deeper into the attraction. The eerie ambience added to her freight. Sounds of wailing agony filled the dark hallway. Another actor jumped out of a small closet. Buggy’s heavy footsteps got closer, y/n pushed the person away and hid in the closet.

The confused actor stood up from the floor and turned to see the pirate clown right in front of him. He punched them right in the jaw, causing them to hit the wall harshly.

“Oh darling, you can run, but you can’t hide.”

Y/n held her hands over her mouth, hiding the heavy breathing. She heard Buggy leave the area, the sound of his footsteps faded away. Her breath hitched. She used her clammy hand to turn the knob of the door, the hinges creak at the movement. She slowly pushed it open, avoiding the high pitch sounds of the hinges.

The door covered a partial part of the right hallway. The darkness made it hard to see, she then turned her head left. The coast is clear, or so she thought. A large pair of hands grabbed her body from behind. Buggy had hidden behind the door, waiting to jump at his prey. He held his hand over her mouth and the other gripped the torso. He shoved her in the closet once again, closing the door behind them.

"Shhh, they'll hear us, or do you want me to kill them?" he whispered.

A light shined through the cracks of the door, footsteps followed and continued down the hallway. Y/n almost pissed herself at the predicament. Her heart pounded with all its might. The lub-dub sound is loud enough to ring through her eardrums, Buggy felt the pumping of her blood vessels.

The pirate reeled her in closer, squeezing his arm slightly under her bust. The woman's body shivered in absolute fear, the jingle of the bells filled the tiny room. "Calm down, love."

He loosens the grip on her, and y/n takes the opportunity to bite through his gloved hand. "Fuck!" he yelled.

She flings the door open and runs down the hallway, the bells ringing along the way. Buggy chuckled and followed the sound. She came across the stairs and decided to go up. It's then she realized her mistake, there's only a couple of rooms and dead ends.

"You have nowhere to go, so give it up," Buggy teased, heading up the stairs.

Despite having no way out, she dashed to the end of the hallway. Suddenly a tight grip squeezed her throat, the force pinned her to the ground. Her hands felt the source of the choking— it’s a hand. With widen eyes, she screamed in shock of the deed. Buggy hovered over her body, his raised arm had a missing hand.

“The look on your face is priceless,” he laughed.

“Please, don’t kill me!” she cried out.

Buggy’s hand let go of her throat and instead grabbed both of her wrist in place. “Kill you? Why would I do that to such a pretty little thing.” He crouched down, his face leaned in.

“Y-you’re not going to kill me? Then why are you hunting me down?”

“For the thrill,” he let go of her wrist as he stood up, his hand clicking back in place.

Y/n sat up and crawled a bit away from him.

“What type of sick game are you playing?”

He let out a small chuckle, “A fun one.”

“You psycho,” she approached the pirate and gave him a hard slap on his left cheek. The hit stung her hand.

Buggy is applaud by the action and held onto his stinging cheek. Y/n regretted that, but it felt so good to let our her frustration. She jumped back, awaiting for his outlash, but the pirate only laughed.

“Oh, you’re feisty one. I like that.”

“You’re weird.”

“Very,” he smirked, removing hand off his wrist once more.

Silence filled the hallway. The tension between the two arose. His green orbs stared into her eyes, the difference in power is obvious. It became rather awkward, not knowing what to say about the uncomfortable situation.

“So what do you want from me?” she managed to spat out.

He hummed, “I want you.”

A flash of heat rippled through her face. “Me?”

“I saw you last night at the bar and the way you danced captivated me. You’re the treasure I seek after.”

In shock of his confession, she walked closer and slapped him across the face.

“You could’ve just asked me that night! Instead you pursue me and made me think I was going to die,” she screamed at him.

“Is that a yes?” he held the side of his face, grinning.

“H-huh? N-n, wait. . . I-”

Buggy placed his hands on her hips, swiftly wrapping his arms around her waist. She stopped her rambling and covered her flustered face with her hands.

With his lips centimeters away from her ear, he murmurs, “Come on, let me show you a good time to replace the trouble I caused you.”

His sweet voice is tempting. He then proceeded to gently nibble on her earlobe, causing a small mewl to escape her mouth. His member twitched at the sound.

“May I?” his lips slightly rubbed against her neck.

Y/n’s hands rest on the side of his shoulders, she turned her head to allow access to the spot. “Mhm,” she softly hummed.

He first gave a small peck on her warm skin, followed by a few more trailing down her neck. She rolled her head back, taking in the sweet touch of his lips. Buggy thrilled by her response, decided to finally go feral. Grabbing the woman he barged into a nearby room. Props lay on the available bed, with his floating hand he pushed them to the ground. He closed the door behind them, locking it.

He tossed y/n onto the bed, who managed to avoid sliding off the edge.

“Get ready darling, I’m about to give you a night you’ll never forget,” he removed his brown coat and threw it to the ground. His striped vest allowed a full revelation of his muscles.

He removed his captain’s hat, “You like what you see?”

Embarrassed, she directed her gaze off his biceps. Buggy approached the woman laying in front of him, removing his clothing, except for his briefs. His built is lean, hair covered his body and his happy trail made y/n gleam in excitement.

“As much as I love your jester look, you don’t need it any more,” he ripped apart the part portion of the top and removed the hat.

She held onto her bra as he ripped apart her pants. The cold air raised goosebumps all over skin. A wave of shame came across her, she’s practically nude in front of a man she barely knows.

“What’s wrong baby? Don’t be shy. . .” Buggy attacked her neck, letting out his hunger for the taste of her skin.

Y/n hitched at the loving warmth on the side of her neck. He sucked on her warm flesh, leaving behind a large red mark to claim her as his. His now bare hand cupped her cheek, his face leaned in for a kiss. The pirate’s red nose made the kiss interesting, but it didn’t bother her. In midst of the excitement, she gently bit his bottom lip, pulling it so slightly. His eyes darken and deliberately smooched her, letting his tongue loose in her cavern.

Their tongues met, dancing away in the warm enclosure. Y/n’s hands pulled Buggy’s head in, deepening the passionate kiss. He sucked on her tongue, enjoying the small mewls she would make. The two stop to catch their breaths, he looked down at her. His red makeup made a mess, the smeared paint covered her mouth.

He took a scoot back, his face lingered above her covered breast. He grasped the bra and ripped it off her chest, exposing the lovely sight. His hands cupped each boob, squeezing them gently. His thumbs pressed on her needy nipples, caressing them with ease. He squeezed her hard buds, making her let out a small moan.

“You like that?” he sultry whispered.

Y/n’s blushed face only stared at his working hands on her breast. He chuckled as his mouth gobbled her left tit. He nipped at her bud, pulling at it gently.

“Oh-” she gaped out, enjoying the warmth on her breast.

Buggy sucked on each nipple as he continued his play with the other. His tongue would swirled between each needy bud, the tip purposely running by the small opening. He left the swollen nipples and kissed her chest, trailing down to her stomach. Her back arched as she felt her lower regions flutter. His kisses stopped at the trim of her panties.

With a pull of his teeth, he gritted, “Let’s see how you look like love.” He swiftly removed the panties with the assistance of her legs. Y/n, feeling vulnerable, closed her legs shut. Buggy placed his hands in between her soft thighs. “Be a good girl and open wide for me,” he murmured, kissing the insides of her thighs.

She hesitantly listened, allowing Buggy to take a peak at her most intimate part. He placed his large hand over the exposed flesh, his fingers traces down her wet folds. Shivers trailed down y/n’s spine.

“Tell me, have you ever been touched by a man before?”

The room went silent. Buggy’s index finger slowly made its way to her leaking hole, circling the entrance. She flinched at the touch.

“J-just once. . .”

Buggy couldn’t help to feel jealous at the thought of another man touching her this way. “Hm, you’ll never remember that moment once I’m threw with you,” he said with a devious tone.

A sudden hot sensation ran through her folds. The tip of his tongue flicked her throbbing clit. “Ah,” her soft moans made him hungry for more. He began devour her aroused pussy, lapping the juices that would flow out her small hole. He detached his tongue, fucking the insides of her clenched walls. His thumb pressed gently on her swollen bean, rubbing it just right. The pirate watched as her ecstasy unfolded in front of him.

Y/n toes curled at the motion of his tongue, her fingers gripped his bandana and hair, pushing his face onto her pussy. His stubble scratched her vaginal folds, adding to the stimulation. The tongue reattached back into his mouth, who now softy sucked the dripping wetness from her hole. His hands held her thighs as his textured nose rubbed against her sensitive clit.

She’s ready for the next level, Buggy slipped his index finger in, feeling the warmth swallow it whole. Due to her moaning mess, she did not notice the foreign part inside of her. That’s when his middle finger slid in, he curled them, watching her back arch. Using the same hand, his thumb rubbed against the needy clit as he fingered her.

“Do you want another?” he asked, kissing her shaking thigh.

“Y-yes,” she moaned, rolling her eyes back.

Without hesitation, his ring finger rammed inside of her. He quicken his pace, enjoying the sounds coming out of her sweet mouth. His cock twitched at every sinful moan, his harden erection became more painful by each note. He felt himself give into his instincts, not thinking about the strength of his finger fucking.

He stopped his motion before y/n could reach her climax. She groaned at the lost feeling of his fingers.

“Sorry babe, but I don’t want you having too much fun without me.”

He stood up in front of her, showing the large tent on his briefs. He pulled the fabric down, showing more of his blue fluff. His harden erection sprang up, precum already dripping out of his slit.

“I would love to feel your pretty little mouth on my dick, but I want to make you mine already,” he said stroking his member.

He placed his tip on her pussy, sliding his tip between the wet folds, teasing. Y/n only watched, loving the slight rubbing as he guided the tip over her drenched hole. His dick slowly pushed in, he grunted at the tightness. The girth of his dick stretched the entrance of her flesh, making her yelp.

“It’s ok baby, it’s almost in,” he cooed.

Her pussy took him in nicely, a sweet warmth clenched around him. “Fuck,” he gritted. He continued to push in deeper, feeling his member throb in arousal. “There it goes. . .”

He huffed out as y/n teary eyes caught his attention. With his torso upright, his detached hand wiped the tears off her cheek. The blue fluff of his lower region touched her skin and so did the base of his dick. Practically in the missionary position, he began thrusting inside of her, his hand still cupping her face.

“Nngh-” she held onto his free hand, whimpering.

Buggy used his other arm to hold her thighs as she wrapped around his torso. He started to chase the high, loving the tight sensation on his swollen cock. Pure ecstasy engulfed him, he leaned in to the side of face and snuggled the crook of her neck. Y/n’s hands hugged over his shoulders, taking in each thrust. She cried out, the pounding is rough, but pleasure overtook the stinging pain of each hard blow.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-”

“Damn, baby. . . I didn’t think you’d be so tight. . .”

Vulgar words filled the room, each one becoming louder and louder; and more incoherent. Buggy lifted his head up to see the incapacitated woman below him, submitting to him. His hand gripped her neck, softly chocking her. She gasped at this action as his fingers tighten around her. Her vision darken, unable to respond back. He loosened his grip and instead grabbed a fistful of her hair.

The pounding became more viscous, the two were a moaning mess. Buggy’s climax approached, he held back his orgasm as much as he could. Sweat glistened on his forehead as his breathing became unstable. His core tighten, ready to unleash his load inside of her. Not able to go any longer, he grunted, letting his hot cum fill her wrecked pussy.

His weak body fell on top of her, barely catching his breath. Despite the intense fucking, y/n has not reached her climax. The pirate removed his soften member, letting the white substance ooze out. His detached hand made its way to her lower region, not caring about touching his own cum, he fingered her. The motion is overwhelming, stimulating her to the max. It’s not long before she reached her orgasm. The two’s heavy breathing filled the quiet room.

He rolled over, pulling her body over his. Her head laid on his hairy chest.

“Oops, I came in you,” he huffed out.

With the wave of pleasure gone, she had clarity over the situation. “What?” she said with a panic voice. “You did that on purpose!”

He chuckled, stroking her hair. “It’s not my fault your legs wrapped around me tightly.”

She sat up next to him, hiding her breast with her arms. “What am I going to do? I can’t have a baby with a pirate. . .”

She the pointed at him. “Pirates are all dead beat fathers, of course you would do this to me!”

He rolled his eyes, “Did you not hear me when I said I’ll make you mine?”

“I-I, what?” she gave him a dumbfounded look.

He got out of the bed and walked over to the pile of clothing on the floor.

“Come get dressed, I’m taking you with me.”

“I can’t. You destroyed my costume.”

“Oh, right. . .”— he grabbed his coat and tossed at her— “use this.”

She sighed and wrapped her body with it. Buggy finished dressing up, he picked up his captain’s hat and placed it on y/n’s head. He smiled as it flopped to the side, obviously too big on her.

“You should be honored to be the captain’s bride,” he smirked.

“Bride? Since when are we getting m-” she was cut off as Buggy lifted her body up, bridal style.

She clenched the flaps of the coat, making sure her skin did not show. She tried to protest, but he stuffed her mouth with glove. The two leave the haunted house, the scare actors look at each other in confusion, not wanting to ask about the situation.

He swiftly carried y/n towards the dock, not caring about the weird looks they received from the festival’s crowd. It didn’t take long before they reached his ship. Once on the deck, he placed her down and she finally spat out the glove.

“You kidnapped me! Who said I’ll go with you?” she yelled.

“Well that’s too bad for you. A pirate takes what he wants,” he snickered.

“What about my friends? I don’t want to leave them behind, they’re practically my sisters!”

Before Buggy could answer, someone interrupted, “We’re back captain!”

Two men aboard the ship, both holding a woman each. The two women happen to be her friends, Blev and Syalie, y/n ran to them. The two embrace their friend.

“Are you guys okay? I’m glad you’re here, but how can this be?” Y/n questioned.

Blev and Syalie, who clearly had smudged makeup, look at each other and back at the the men who brought them to the ship.

“It’s a long story, but we could say the same about you?” Syalie giggled.

Y/n is puzzled about the situation and turned to face Buggy, who only raised his hands up.

“What can I say, Cabaji and Mohji took real good care of your friends.”

She wrinkled her eyebrows together and cringe at the thought of her friends being railed.

“You can’t say you won’t go without your friends. Now, let’s set sail from his miserable island,” he ordered.

Cabaji and Mohji went to their posts, preparing the ship for departure. The three women huddle close, all not taking in the reality of being captured by pirates. Buggy approached them and reached into his pockets, pulling out their gold bracelets. He handed it to them.

“Welcome on board ladies. You are all now apart of my crew, but before you meet everyone, let’s settle you in,” he grabbed y/n’s hand as the other women followed behind.

“Don’t worry love, no one will dare touch you here. Besides, you carry my seed now.”

Y/n blushed at his statement, she held her stomach, not sure if she’d like to carry his offspring. His thumb gently rubbed her hand, assuring her fate with him. She took one last look at the island before they headed before deck. There’s no future for her there, the small jobs would not cut it for the long run.

“Okay, you better not be a dead beat,” she said, squinting at him.

He only laughed, “Of course, you’re mine to take care of.”

Assuring her concern, the four walked down the stairs to the floors below, awaiting the new journey ahead of them.

🕷⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆🕷

A/N: It’s been years since I last wrote smut. Hopefully it wasn’t too shabby. On a side note, I got behind on my projects, so the next chapter of my fanfic will take a minute to write. For now, I hope this will satisfy you all!

#buggy one piece #buggy the clown #one piece #buggy x fem reader #buggy x reader #buggy x y/n #captain buggy #opla buggy #op buggy #buggy the clown x reader #buggy smut

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nexusnyx · 1 year

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s.w.a.l.k.

40s!bucky barnes x f!reader; [3.4k] summary: No one at his battalion knows about her, but they all see Sgt. Barnes writing the letters. Everyone wonders what does he have to say—how can so many words fit in him when he has so few to spare most of the time, but at the end of the day, all that matters is that when he receives his replies, Barnes looks happy. Glowing. 📝: this was based on this post. if you like it, reblogs and comments make all the difference. talk to me about it and i’ll adore ya. 🏷️: established relationship, letters, angst, longing.

masterlist | series masterlist

ㅤㅤㅤJune, 1943.

If there was one thing Bucky learned during his first weeks on duty, it was how to write.

Who would've thought?

Not Steve, that's for sure. As a matter of fact, Steve's first letter replying to Bucky involved the words 'damn Buck, didn't even know you could write' and while that was hilarious — like, really, very funny, Stevie, you're oh, so hilarious, Bucky wrote back — it was nothing compared to the gift he received from you.

The first letter you sent back to him proved to him why it was important that he wrote. It was crucial that Bucky learned how to verbalize all those feelings and thoughts pent up inside his mind because here, stuck between trenches, men, gunpowder, and the smell of death, he learned the truth about how ephemeral and fragile everything was.

Bucky needed you to know that amongst the rocky current of the waters of life, you were a lifeline.

His sweetheart.

+++++++ +++++++

The first time he wrote, it was short, objective, but sweet.

You'd been his girl for five months before he was shipped out, and Bucky had never been head over heels before.

The unfairness of it all didn't go unregistered.

Of course Bucky would find the one person he wanted to spend all of his time with just before everything everywhere went to shit. Of course he'd find the gal who he enjoys talking to for hours, with no end in sight—the girl who not only can keep up with him but makes him speed up sometimes to catch up. The girl who likes Steve.

(That one had been a big one. Nothing turned Bucky off more than when one of his dates met his best friend and treated him like dirt underneath their shoe, or grimaced, or sighed as if talking to Steve was a chore they had to put up with in order to be on his good side.

Not you.

Bucky introduced you to Steve, went to get a drink, and came back to the two of you laughing like you'd been best friends since childhood. He'd been so fucking happy to see Steve getting along with a girl of his that for a moment, he'd forgot you were his girl.

Between the two of them, you were not just his date. Those last few months, whenever Bucky left the docks to meet you or after he picked up Steve from the mass and the art classes he taught the children, they went to your neighborhood to share a beer and talk to you. All three, together.

Good friends.

Bucky had, many times, joked that you and Steve were an item on your own—the nerdy duo, the smarty pants, the firecrackers. If Steve alone was trouble, Bucky was now damned because his dame was trouble too, and she took none of it home. No—when trouble knocked on your door or his, you faced it with your chin held up high and your hands ready to throw fists.

He'd seen it first hand; the day someone called Steve a fairy and you became part woman, part beast.

That's when he knew he was in love.

That was also a couple of weeks before he was shipped off.)

Regardless of how everything was just not right, Bucky tried seeing the good amidst the bad.

You had asked — no, demanded — he wrote to you as soon as he had a pen and paper in hand, and Bucky could only obey.

The first time was tentative. Fragile, and uncertain.

The letter had been small, and filled with apologies, words scratched out at the last minute, not even a full page long. What could he say? He didn't want to fill your days with the gloom and darkness that loomed over the battalion.

Then, your reply arrived, and Bucky's feelings grew roots inside of him.

Like vines that catch on a wall and become something alive; his ribcages were now filled with words of yours, and they grew, green and vast, as quick as weed, and watered by the memories of you alone.

When he opened the first letter and read the words,

to my Bucky,

he knew there was no turning back.

It must've been the first paragraph that did him in.

The way you spoke to him through paper was so similar to the way you spoke in person that for a few moments, just for a few precious minutes, Bucky could swear you were sitting right next to him, talking in his ear.

Call him crazy or not, but in the breeze, Bucky sensed your warmth. Your perfume.

He knew that was impossible—uncountable miles separated you two, and it was cold in there, colder than he expected.

Nothing but the smell of men, dirty mud and metal hung in the air, but—

he sensed it.

The words carried you in them:

ㅤㅤㅤto my Bucky,

You wrote! Thank you, thank you, thank you. Threefold I thank, so that three times the words come back. Good gods, how I missed you, Jay. I miss you in the mornings, and I miss seeing your frame walking out of the docks coming my way—call me crazy if you want to, but even the smell of your body when you hugged me just to make me yell in spite because the stickiness would cling to my clothes; I miss all of that, too. Don't you dare hold back anything that crosses your mind, ya hear me? I wanna know it all. I don't give a damn if it's ugly, if it's red, if it's horrible and nothing that you would one day say to a dame—I'm yours, James, and nothing about this world is okay or right anymore, so don't you dare hold back the things you'd want me to know. I'm here to listen to everything you're willing to tell me, the same way I'm about to spill my guts about these days here without you, as if you were here sitting on the edge of my bed and not many miles away, somewhere I don't even know, surrounded by people I'm not sure are being good to you like they should.

He read that paragraph so many fucking times that he remembered the words by heart.

'I don't give a damn if it's ugly, if it's red, if it's horrible.'

How had he found you?

He hugged the paper that day.

With eyes searching sideways to see if anyone was paying close attention to him and his silliness, Bucky sniffed the paper and was gifted with a surprise—there was the lingering scent of your perfume there.

That day, he learned the mistake of hugging a letter so close to your heart, where he wished he could keep it: his tears would stain the words, and his longing for you in his arms instead of a piece of paper would make the thing crease, which is the last thing he wanted.

He later found a good metal box, and that's where he decided he would keep your letters.

With a sticker seal from Brooklyn on the lid, Bucky secured the box within his possessions and picked up a pen and paper.

He'd tell you everything. Not because he had much to say or because he was letting the dark thoughts creep around the corners of his mind, but because he wanted to.

If it came out a little woozy, it was alright.

You understood him even when he didn't understand himself.

ㅤㅤㅤMy sweetheart,

I'm a fool for thinking I'd have no words to say to you. Ever since I got your letter, I feel like I should be walking around with a pen and paper with me at all times, 'cause all I wanna do is tell you all the stupid and important things that happen around here.

The words I'll probably use the most and that you'll see in every letter, I should leave out in the open right at first: I miss you. Goddamn it, I do. I didn't know I could miss someone this much—maybe Steve, 'cause I'm used to having him by my side, and my family, but other than that, I only hoped. And now I do. I'm gonna say this many more times, but I can't wait for all of this to be over so I can not miss you.

Speaking of my ma and the girls—have you found the address I gave you easily? I hope you did. I told Ma in my letter that she should be expecting a visit from someone important to me soon, and that I was devastated that I had to be fucking here instead of there in a moment like this, but I want her to have someone intelligent and important to talk to when I'm here. The girls are young. Kids. These are times too dark for children, and you're exactly the type of gal Ma would hope I brought home—does it count if I'm bringing you home, but from afar? Sending you home. I like the sound of that.

I met a couple of cool guys around here. I'm keeping this paper with me to tell you about their stupid ass jokes, but most of them are too dirty. Don't frown at me—I'm not keeping anything from you, sweetheart, they're just crude and stupid. The shit that man says, y'know? You'd roll your eyes at most of them. I smile to myself every time I think about that.

The Lt. around here told me he likes the way I work. Apparently my aim's good not only in the kitchen flippin' pancakes or throwing darts to impress ya. I'm good with a rifle. I dunno if you wanna know about these gritty details too — tell me to shut the hell up like you always did if not — but since you told me to loosen my tongue, I'm telling you that: I'm a sniper. That means I'm usually in the shadows with my eyes squinting in the direction of the enemy, just looking for a breach. I do my job well. Apparently, they're thinking of upping my rank. I also don't know how to feel about that, but one of the guys here — one of the cool ones, don't worry sweetheart, I'm not hanging around the 'bad influences' (and I write this thinking of you and Steve with your judging ass looks, just so you know) — his name's Morita, and he said that when the battalion is formed and everyone has their Sargeant, we can go back home for a weekend before we're shipped off somewhere else.

A lot of shit is 'classified'.

I know. I can hear you snorting, rolling your eyes. Ya hear that, beautiful? I'll be telling you a lot of 'classified' shit. Tell no one, 'cause I don't know how much they know or not.

Do they have ears and eyes everywhere? Probably. I get the sense they do. Everything you learn, pretend you don't. If Ma asks you something that you know and she doesn't, put on that pretty face of yours that fools Mr. Hirako from the store into giving you any information and tell her "ah, Miss Winnie" (I bet she'll ask you to call her that, she's gonna fuckin' love ya) "I don't know, but we should always pray for the best, right?" She'll buy it, 'cause most people buy anything you say. All they see is that angel face.

I adore that angel face so much. I wish you could fool the entire world into being less idiotic and behave like grown people who can solve their shit with words instead of using something so animalistic like these weapons.

Around here all I think about is our late-night conversations about humanity. I hope you're studying a lot, 'cause one day, you're gonna make this world a little better. 'm not sure where I stand on hopes for the future or not, but if this war ends, there might be some.

Ah! I learned something fun today by overhearing one of the conversations: apparently, when soldiers have someone to write to, they use special little acronyms. Like a secret, y'know? I'll be teaching you the ones I learn, 'kay? You're my special agent, now. You tell me all the info you got on the people over there, I tell you everything I know from the people over here, and together, we keep each other sane.

I'll be finishing this one off with Sealing With A Lot of Kisses. Do you miss my kisses? 'Cause I sure miss yours.

I know not every letter's gonna be light and fun like this one, but I hold your first letter close to my chest every night. It reminds me that you're the one who makes things shine for me. There at home, and here in the darkness, too.

It's dark in here, sweetheart.

I learned to close my eyes and think about the starry sky we loved looking at when we were on our dates at the fair, or walking home late at night. Remember the cinema walks with Stevie and I? That's where I go to when it's too dark, too stinky, too ugly. The things people say around here make the hair on the back of my neck rise, sometimes. Talks of experiments, and the messed up from from over there using humans in all sorts of shit... I'm glad that only men are stupid enough to think that fighting to the death is a solution. I'd hate to see you walking around here more than I hate seeing the sight of blood or still bodies. You don't belong here. I think no one does.

Please, can you do me a favor? Send me another picture of yours? I only have one. I can't risk losing this one and not having another picture of you to stare at. If you leave me with nothing but my fellas' ugly mugs to stare at, I'm gonna have to come back disowned.

I hear a lot of talk around the camp about shipping, so I'll leave you for now. I hope my words find you at peace, and that they bring you some comfort. I carried the papers with me everywhere so they musn't smell nice, but at least it smells like me. I'm sorry if my scent is different now. If it's bad, lemme know. I liked the thing you did with the perfume. My box smells of you. I open it only once a day, to make sure it doesn't go to waste. It's keepin' me sane, and it puts a smile on my face every time I get a whiff of it.

With a lot of adoration in my heart, goodbye for now, sweetheart;

S.W.A.L.K.

yours, J.B.B.

"Congratulations."

It says a lot about how much Bucky pays attention to the folk around here that he recognizes the voice of Morita. He looks up and is met with black hair and slim eyes. "Thanks, Jim."

Morita points at the log that Bucky's sitting on. "Mind if I join ya?"

"Not at all."

"Thanks." Morita sits with a grunt. Everyone around the base is tired—living on the edge with the minimum only makes a human being gruff and annoyed, but Morita still has that aura of someone whose head is right on their shoulders. "I was terrified there for a moment."

"Of what?"

"That they'd make me Sargeant."

Bucky chuckles. "With that aim of yours? Nah."

"Not my thing, Sarge. But I already told the Lt. that I wanna be under your watch. My aim might not be the best, but I've seen yours."

"Have ya?"

"Sure did. I'm good with explosives, though. If you need someone to blow some shit up, I'm your guy."

Bucky puts down his rifle, glad about the cleaning job, and shifts his focus to Jim. "I'll definitely remember that."

"Good, good." The silence that stretches for the next moments proves to Bucky what he already knew—Morita's one of the good folk. He rolls a tobacco, lights it up, and offers it to Bucky.

'Those things smell nasty, Buck. Put that shit out.'

'Oh, c'mon, sweetheart. It makes me light and loose.'

'It'll also make your gums black, your teeth yellow, and your breath stinky. D'you want me to kiss you forever?'

'That shouldn't even be a question'.

'Then lose that.'

He loves when things spark a memory of yours. Bucky shakes his head with a smile on. "Nasty things. Thanks, Jim."

Morita smokes a few puffs with his eyes glued on Bucky, who feels watched and analyzed.

"Who told ya to quit?" Morita asks through clouds of smoke.

Unlike most people, his questions don't come lidded with annoying prodding. Morita's older than Bucky—at least five, or maybe ten years on him, and Bucky liked his presence from the get-go because it was always like this; easy conversation without that feeling of someone snooping around in your life with nothing to offer back. "No one told me to quit, specifically..."

"But they told ya it was nasty, hm?"

Bucky chuckles. "It is a nasty habit."

"Can't argue with that."

They sit in silence as the cigarette's tip burns orange every now and then. The sky is the only thing they have to watch, and Bucky relaxes his back against the three.

Eventually, Morita speaks up again. "You think we're going somewhere cold? Hot?"

Something tells Bucky it'll be cold. He shivers at the feeling that sweeps through him like an omen. "I wanna say hot. My body says cold."

"Ah, fuck me." Morita stubs the tip on his boots' sole, and rests his back on the tree too with a big sigh. "If there ain't a single opportunity to drink 'till the cold is forgotten, 'm gonna find a way to blow that mustache motherfucker myself."

That makes Bucky laugh. "I wouldn't say no to that." I wanna go home. "Blow all of 'em up and we'll go home faster."

"Fuck, I wanna go home," the whisper is so soft that Bucky looks to the side, and finds Morita looking at him. "You ever thought we'd have to live through this bullshit?"

"Never."

"Me neither." Morita looks up at the sky. "My partner says humanity's clinging to the wrong shit and that's why we're losing our way."

Bucky heard Steve and his friends for long enough to recognize a cue when he sees one, and answers with, "They sound smart," before sighing deeply. "Mine says it was the break between the idea of 'technology' and separating that from nature that fucked us up."

It's the first time he talks about you with someone, and he feels that the information is stored safely.

"They sound smart, too," says Morita. "D'you think we'll get to go home for a bit?"

That's what they were told, but Bucky's learning not to trust people's words too much. "It's what they told us. I've been told not to trust bosses too much, though."

"Your partner said that?"

"Yup. She claims everyone who's in charge of others lies to some degree."

Morita's laugh is loud, and nasally. Bucky fucking adores it. "As someone with two kids, she sure knows what she's talking about."

"You lie to your kids a lot?"

Morita cackles. "Sarge—wait 'till you and your babe have kids, and then we'll exchange letters. There's either lying or losing our minds. Or losing the kid. So lying it is."

"I'll send you letters when it happens to ask for advice."

"I'll spare some for you."

Bucky likes the sound of that. "Tell me about your kids?"

The request is met with a smile, and Bucky forgets all about the wrongs and the dark sitting there with Morita.

In the back of his mind, all he thinks about is telling you all the good bits of this conversation later on.

He'll share everything with you.

And then, when the time comes, he'll come home.

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