#it’s all going to be played off and explained away

[jaysbaefie]

inmate 1697 | psh

synopsis: in which you agree to the jail guards offer for a small fee, you.

genre: prison au

pairing: jail guard!sunghoon x inmate afab! reader

warnings: non/dub-con themes, dom!sunghoon, sub!reader, lowkey ego hurt!sunghoon, oral (m.rec), hair pulling, face fucking? gagging, manhandling, grinding, slight nipple play, cuffing, choking (kind of), doggy, clit play, rough p in v, slight cum play, panty stealing, lowkey sweet!sunghoon at the end?

wc: 3.1k+

a/n: thank you for all the love on my previous fics. make sure to reblog and like, it’s what keeps me motivated to write! enjoy.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

the clearing of someones throat broke you out of your thoughts. the days had blended in together and you could no longer tell what day of the week it was.

you broke the trance that the scuffed walls had on you, peering away from the scratch marks and smears of what you hope is blood and not fecal matter on the walls.

you tune your attention to the figure standing on the other side of the bars, a prison guard. you roll your eyes, "i haven't been screaming or causing a fuss, it's the cell next to mine. trust me, i know it's loud," you explain dryly . you had been receiving the blame for your next door neighbours antics, with multiple guards coming to your cell to bitch you out.

when you don't receive an answer you scoff, shutting your eyes before leaning back against the hard wall. "how would you like to talk to your little brother, __," the voice boomed. your eyes snapped open at the mention of your brother, immediately sitting up right on your hard bed.

you hadn't seen or talked to your little brother for months, your family didn't allow him. saying that your bad habits would 'rub off' on him and that he'd become like you. you rolled your eyes at their words, you didn't deserve to be behind bars and you did nothing wrong—they knew that. yet, here you are.

"how?" you question lowly, now getting up from your bed to walk up to the front. you hadn't gotten a proper look at the guard until now, originally quickly dismissing him. when you were right in front of him you realized how attractive he was.

typically the prison guards that worked at the facility were old stubby men who often could care less about what was going on. they eyed down female inmates, with many of the women taking advantage of them and using them for commissary.

you almost let out a gasp when you saw his sharp eyes piercing straight into yours, he had thick black hair that covered his brows and plump lips that sat flat on his pale face. he was definitely one of the most attractive men you had ever seen and you were now hyper aware of yourself and your surroundings under his intense gaze.

he smirks at your question, "i'll bring you a phone, i'm sure you have your brothers number," he explains gruffly, his eyes raking your body before he juts his tongue out to swipe over his lips.

you swallow harshly, there was a twist to his strange act of kindness. "what do you want in return?" you ask carefully, narrowing your eyes at him as his smirk widens.

you weren't dumb, you knew he had ulterior motives. "aren't you a smart one, cell mate 1697," he muses, his eyes dropping down to your chest to read the numbers printed on your orange jumper.

you instinctively cover your chest when his gaze lingers a bit to long on the area making him let out an airy laugh. you quirk your eyebrow, "well.." you motion for him to get on with it.

"how about this, cell mate 1697. i bring you your phone, you call your brother. then, i come down after 9pm and you let me use your pretty little throat," he suggests with a grin, his hand gripping one of the cells bars tightly as he stares down at your figure like you were prey.

he was an attractive man, surely he didn't need to be doing this to get off.

you scoff, "use me? no. never." he shrugs in response, "if you want to talk to your little brother, you'll change your mind."

he leans down slightly, "i promise, i'll be quick," he almost purrs.

you thought about it for a moment, you knew what he wanted, thats what every guard wanted in return for a little something. you had heard of stories of many guards wanting more than that, weighing out the pros and cons you came to a decision.

"alright," you began before squinting your eyes to make out the small printed name on the corner of his uniform, "officer park sunghoon, i'll see you tonight."

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

he held his part of the bargain, you had gotten a phone a few hours after the meeting. you woke up to something hard under your head, when you lifted yourself from your pillow you noticed the sleek device in the cover of your pillow case.

you gapped at the electronic, it seemed to be a newer model and you wonder why you had received something so nice. you fully expected a flip phone or a shabby one on the brink of death device—not this. that only made you wonder, was there more that he wanted than he let on?

you clenched your thighs together at the thought before quickly dismissing it and fumbling with the phone in your hands. you quickly look around your cell, peering outside of the bars to see if any guards were making rounds. when you deemed the coast to be clear, you tried to unlock the phone—only for it to have a password.

you frowned, this wasn't apart of his plan.

maybe there was more than he let on.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

you awaited for his arrival, it was around 9:30pm when you heard the sound of keys jingling and your cell being unlocked. you didn't dare turn your head, instead you stayed seated and continued to stare mindlessly at the wall in front of you.

anything for my brother.

locking the cell door behind him he stalks up to your figure, looking down at you with his intense gaze. you gripped your bed sheets hard, peering up at him as he takes another step closer—his crotch now in your face.

you swallow roughly, looking down to see his dick strained against his black work pants. your eyes widen when you realize how big he was, a small chuckle snaps you out of your thoughts. before you could look up on your own, you feel his hands make their way into your hair. you let out a small yelp when he yanks on it, causing you to snap your head up.

"you know what i want, __," he rasps, his grip on your hair tightening as he forces your head closer—your face now pressed against his crotch.

you gulp, wincing when he ruts himself against your face—the zipper of his pants scratching your cheek.

"you're going to be a good girl and follow through with your end of the bargain, yeah?" he murmurs lowly as he continues his actions. "you're gonna do what i say to get that password, yeah?"

you nod slightly making him smirk, "good, c'mon take it out."

you begin to reach your hands up to unzip his pants but sunghoon immediately slaps them away, "not with your hands, your mouth."

your breath hitches, your eyes widening at his words. swallowing harshly your teeth bite at his zipper, peering up at him as you pull it down.

sunghoon bites down on his lip, hard, the metallic taste of blood seeping onto his tongue. the sight he was witnessing was worth getting fired for, he'd gone to great lengths to get here after all.

working in an all women prison was easy, he got payed to watch women—with many of them throwing themselves at him. when he first got hired he basked in the attention, but soon after he was disgusted by the inmates behaviours. he was flashed constantly and touched on whenever he got to close.

every time he did rounds many of the inmates would try to seduce him into coming into their cells for a "good time" which he rejected instantly. however, you never spared him a glance—and that hurt his ego.

after asking about you to fellow guards, he had gathered quite a bit of information on you. you kept to yourself, rejected all prison guard advances because "nothing they had to offer was something you needed" and that you were in for manslaughter of your sister.

he made it his mission to find something that he could offer you, digging through your files and searching you up in the system. finally, he found your weak spot—your younger brother.

he discovered that your parents didn't allow you to keep in contact with your brother, and it was something that you talked about often on your in-person visits with family every month. so, he offered you the one thing that he knew you'd have a hard time turning down. in return, he wanted you.

there was something about you that drew him in, maybe it was your looks, your lack in interest in him, or even the fact that you killed your own sister. whatever it was, he wanted you, and when park sunghoon wants something—he gets it.

you struggle to help sunghoon shimmy down his pants, his hand coming down to help you as the clothing drops to the floor. he makes you work for his dick, nuzzling against his crotch to get him out of the slit in his boxers.

sunghoon enjoyed watching you struggle, furthermore, he enjoyed how eager you looked to please him.

finally, his cock sprung out and hit your cheek causing sunghoon to snicker. your eyes widen when you see his uncovered length, surprised that it looked bigger that you originally thought he was.

"well, you just gonna look at it?" he asks, his voice heavy and strained.

immediately, you took him into your mouth. sunghoon lets out a chocked moan, his hips bucking as you try to adjust your mouth to his girthy length. your eyes water when his tip hits the back of your throat, gagging slightly as you swallow around him—driving him crazy. he forms two makeshift pig tails on the top of your head, using them to steer you and control what pace you were going. he almost combusts at the sight of you, your eyes drowning in tears and your mouth full with his cock. he could see a mixture of drool and his cum leaking out from the sides of your mouth, your grip on his thighs getting painful.

"f-fuck, look at you," he grunts, his pace getting faster as he feels his balls tighten. "taking my cock so well in your pretty mouth."

you moan at the praise, the sound vibrating against his length making his eyes roll back in his head. you feel your jaw start to ache and sunghoon forces his dick deeper and deeper into your mouth, your nose touching his pelvic bone as he lets out a series of curses.

you suddenly swallow around him, his length twitching in your mouth as he bucks his hips—chasing his high. "fuck m'gonna cum, o-oh," he lets out a guttural moan as he feels himself reach his high.

"you dirty bitch, you want my cum? yeah? you want your mouth painted with me? hm?" he moans wildly as you desperately nod your head, thighs squeezing together to relieve the pressure between your legs.

you let out a small whine when you feel his cum coat the inside of your mouth. he pulls out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting from his dick to your mouth making you flush in embarrassment. you swallow his cum, the taste salty and slightly tangy but manageable.

you feel yourself disassociate for a moment only for sunghoons voice to break you out of your trance, "you did so good for me, __," he praises, his hand leaving your hair as it comes down to softly caress your face.

you hum in response, "the password?" you manage to say, your voice coming out hoarse and strained. you thought that sunghoon just wanted his dick sucked, little did you know he had more in mind for tonight.

he snickers, "i'm not done with you yet," and with that he's hauling you up from your bed and manhandling you to face the other way to press your behind against him.

you gasp at the sudden change, "b-but.." you tried to formulate your displeasure however sunghoon had no interest in hearing your voice. he forced two of his fingers into your mouth, the sudden intrusion causing you to gag. "you were more well behaved when you had my cock stuffed down your throat," he sneered into your ear, his minty breath fanning against your ear making you shiver.

you cried against his fingers, hands coming up to try and remove his digits from your mouth. sunghoon 'tsks' before he's reaching behind him and snapping the cold cuffs against your wrists, securing the restraints tightly behind your back causing you to cry out louder. you struggled against him, "why are you being difficult, 1697? you agreed to this," he says harshly.

you shook your head, or at least tried to, you had only agreed to blow him—nothing else.

"surely you knew better than to trust me when i said i only wanted one thing from you," he snickers, his hand wandering around your figure making you flinch.

his hand reaches for the waistband of your pants, yanking them down harshly along with your panties. "be a doll, step out of them, __." when you shake your head 'no' you hear a loud slap ring through your cell, your eyes widen at the sensation of your butt burning. he had smacked your cheek, now holding it in a bruising grip. "step out of them," he says again as he begins to roughly massage your other cheeks making you writhe.

you shakily step out of your pants, in fear that he'd go for your face next. he smiles against you, reaching down to grab your panties from the pile on the floor.

he raised his eyebrows in shock when he notices how damp the material was, "you like this? don't you, 1697," he laughs. you hated how your body betrayed you, how it showed him that you wanted this.

he quickly removes his fingers from your mouth, replacing it with your soiled underwear. his hands grip your waist as he grinds himself against your bare behind, his cock resting on your lower back.

his hands move under your shirt and up your stomach, reaching your covered chest. he yanks down your bra harshly, causing your tits to spill out. his greedy hands fondle and play with your nipples as he buries his nose in the crook of your neck—inhaling deeply.

"you're so perfect," he murmurs against your skin, sucking on the skin of your neck as he ruts himself against you. you continue to struggle against him, your protests being drowned by the fabric stuffed in your mouth.

you manage to spit your underwear out, "get off of me you sick bastard!" you screech, twisting and turning your body as you attempt to kick him. sunghoon snickers, his hand coming up to grip you by your throat as his grip on your tit becomes punishing.

"you want to play like that? i can play like that," and with that your being bent over your bed, face smushed against your hard mattress with your ass in the air.

"i was going to take care of you, 1697. get you ready for my cock, stretch your pretty cunt out so it could take me with ease. but you just want to be a brat so bad," he tsks as he runs his pointer finger down your slit. you attempt to bitch back but sunghoon pushes you face down into your bed, holding you down as you struggle to breathe.

"guess i'll just have to show you want happens to disobedient little sluts like you," and with that he begins to push his cock into you. his grip on your head falters as he bottoms out, a strangled groan leaving him—your walls fluttering against him.

you let out a cry when you feel him stretch you out completely, clenching around him to try and accommodate his thick cock.

as soon as you stopped clenching around him, he began to pound into you at a punishing pace—his snapping wildly as grips onto your waist.

"f-fuck, you're taking my cock so well in your hungry pussy," he moans, the sound of skin slapping together and your whimpers filling the cell.

sunghoon could combust at the sight alone, your ass jiggled with every thrust he delivered. his grip on your waist was painful, you were sure that the area was going to bruise later on.

his thrusts become brutal as he chases his high, smirking when he feels your walls flutter against him—indicating that you were just as close as he was.

"you gonna cum with me, pretty? gonna cum all over my cock?" he cooed before hes gripping the back of your neck to bring you up so your back is arched and the crown of your head touches his chest.

he grips your throat as he continues to fuck into you, his other hand reaching down to play with your clit as you struggle to keep down your moans.

"answer me," he demands when you don't respond to his question, his grip on your throat getting tighter—your vision getting blurry.

you nod, "y-yes sir, m'gonna cum on your big cock. please let me cum," you cry out, all morals flying out the window as your body shakes—feeling yourself near your high.

sunghoon smirks, "yeah? go on then, cum all over my dick," he spits as he begins to draw firmer circles on your clit. he feels your body twitch against him before your walls grip him tighter, which he didn't think was possible.

you let out a shriek as you feel your high wash over you, sunghoons following soon after. he releases into you with a guttural moan, his hips stuttering as his pace slows down.

"milking me so good, hm? perfect pussy," he murmurs against you, planting small kisses on your head as he rides out his high—making sure to empty himself out into you fully.

he pulls out of you soon after, allowing you to fall onto your bed before he's tucking himself back into his pants. he watches his cum dribble out of your cunt, suppressing a moan that threatened to leave his mouth at the sight. he runs his fingers down your slit, pushing the cum that was falling out of you back into your cunt.

smirking when he sees your fucked out state,  your body still shaking from the orgasm.

he un-cuffs you before he puts your pants back on, fixing your attire as you look at him dazed. he finds your panties on the side, quickly grabbing a hold of them before he's stuffing them into his pocket—a keepsake if you will.

he grabs your blanket and pulls it over you before he's crouching down.

he plants a small kiss on your forehead, "password is 1697," and with that he walks out.

— enjoy this fic? check out my other ones right here!

[ijustmissyouraccenths]

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Where Y/N and Harry thought they had lost each other, fate gives them a second chance.

Word Count: 7,222

Content Warning: Cursing, alcohol, mentions of Zayn leaving.

Y/N had been with Harry through it all. Through the late-night calls filled with exhaustion, the frantic texts that barely scratched the surface of what he was feeling, the moments of silence where he didn’t have the words to explain what was breaking inside him. She had been there before Zayn left, and she was still there now, following him on tour like a quiet anchor in the chaos.

The energy backstage wasn’t the same anymore. Ever since Zayn had left, there was a palpable shift—like a table missing a leg, still standing but wobbling with every move. The crowds were still loud, the shows still electric, but behind the scenes, it was different. Unease lingered in the air like a storm waiting to break.

On his days off, they escaped together. Away from the arenas, the cameras, the questions. They did the kind of touristy things that made Harry feel like himself again—exploring tiny coffee shops tucked into side streets, wandering through museums with their hands intertwined, laughing at the ridiculous souvenirs in gift shops. She took pictures of him when he wasn’t looking, the city lights reflecting in his green eyes, the weight on his shoulders momentarily lighter.

But even in those moments, she could see it. The exhaustion. The restlessness. The way his mind was always somewhere else, thinking about something he wasn’t saying.

It was late, the city glowing beneath them as they sat on the small balcony of their hotel room. Paris had been a dream—long walks along the Seine, stolen kisses in quiet cafés, pretending for just a little while that the world outside didn’t exist. But now, reality was creeping back in, threading itself between them like an unwelcome guest.

Y/N glanced at Harry beside her, his gaze distant as he traced patterns on the rim of his wine glass. He had been quiet all day, his usual spark dulled by something he wasn’t saying. She knew him well enough to wait, to let him come to her when he was ready.

Eventually, he sighed, leaning back against his chair. “The band’s ending soon.”

The words weren’t surprising, but hearing them aloud still made her chest tighten. “You don’t know that.”

Harry let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “I do. Even if we don’t say it outright, even if we call it a hiatus, we all know what it really means.” He looked over at her, his green eyes filled with something heavy. “It’s not gonna be the same after this.”

Y/N studied him, searching for something—reassurance, maybe, or hope—but all she found was exhaustion. “Is that what you want?”

He exhaled, running a hand through his curls. “I don’t know. I just know I need… something to change. I’ve been doing this since I was a kid. It’s all I’ve ever known.” He turned his gaze to the city below, watching the headlights blur together in streaks of gold and red. “And if it ends… I don’t know who I am outside of it.”

She reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his, grounding him the way she always had. “You’re still you, Harry. Band or no band.”

He squeezed her hand, but the look in his eyes told her something she wasn’t ready to hear.

“I think,” he said slowly, carefully, like he was testing the words as he spoke them, “there’s gonna be a break.”

The air between them shifted, heavy with unspoken things. Y/N felt the weight of it settling in her bones, but she didn’t let go. Not yet.

And Harry was right.

A few months later, the band officially announced their hiatus. At first, it was meant to be temporary. Just a few months to rest, to breathe, to figure things out. But as time passed, the months stretched longer than expected.

One night the rain tapped lightly against the windows of Y/N’s apartment, the soft hum of an old record playing in the background. Harry sat on the couch, one leg bent beneath him, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the ring on his index finger. He had been quiet all night, lost in thought, his gaze distant even when she spoke.

Y/N curled up beside him, resting her head against his shoulder. “You’re thinking,” she murmured, her voice soft.

He let out a small breath of laughter, tilting his head toward hers. “Always am.”

She pulled back slightly to look at him, her fingers brushing over his arm. “What is it?”

Harry hesitated, chewing on his bottom lip like he was trying to find the right words. Finally, he exhaled. “I think I wanna do something on my own for a bit.”

Y/N’s brows lifted, but she didn’t look surprised—just curious. “Music?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I mean, I love the band, always will, but… I wanna see what I can do by myself, y’know? Find out what my sound is. And—” He hesitated again, his fingers still fidgeting with his ring. “I think I wanna try acting, too. I’ve always wanted to, and now feels like the right time.”

Y/N watched him for a moment, taking in the way he spoke—cautious, hopeful, nervous. She reached for his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I think that’s amazing, Harry.”

He glanced at her, his lips parting slightly. “You do?”

She smiled. “Of course I do. You’ve always talked about wanting to try acting, and your own music? That’s exciting.”

He nodded, exhaling like he’d been holding it in. The rain kept falling, the record kept spinning, and for now, they sat there together, wrapped in the quiet of what came next.

Harry was quiet for a long moment, his fingers lightly tracing circles on the back of Y/N’s hand. The rain outside filled the silence between them, steady and rhythmic, but inside, everything felt still—like the moment before something irreversible happened.

He finally looked up at her, his green eyes filled with something heavy. “I’m gonna be busy a lot,” he said, his voice quieter than before. “With the music, with acting… with figuring out who I am outside of all this.”

Y/N’s chest tightened, a sinking feeling creeping in. “I know,” she said softly, watching him carefully.

Harry swallowed, his grip on her hand tightening for just a second before loosening. “I love you,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “And because I love you… because I respect you… I don’t think I can be in a relationship right now. Not while I’m trying to figure myself out.”

The words felt like a slow, unraveling thread, pulling apart everything they had built. Y/N held onto his gaze, searching for something—maybe a way to change his mind, maybe a way to understand. But deep down, she already knew.

She nodded once, her throat tight. 

Everything shifted.

Y/N felt her breath hitch, her fingers trembling slightly in his grasp. “Harry…” she started, but she didn’t know how to finish.

His face twisted in pain, like he hated every word coming out of his own mouth. “This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to say,” he admitted, shaking his head. “I don’t want to do this, love. God, I don’t. But I need to.”

Her vision blurred as tears welled in her eyes. “Why?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Why do you think we can’t figure it out together?”

Harry inhaled sharply, his hand cupping hers, like he was trying to memorize the feel of her skin. “Because I don’t know who I am right now. And I can’t drag you into that mess. I can’t ask you to sit around waiting while I run off chasing things I don’t even fully understand yet.” He let out a shaky breath. “You deserve someone who is sure, someone who can be there for you in every way. And I—I don’t know if I can be that person right now.”

Tears slipped down Y/N’s cheeks, and she quickly wiped them away, hating how fragile she felt. “But you love me.” It wasn’t a question; it was a desperate grasp for something solid, something real.

Harry’s eyes softened, filling with sorrow and something deeper—something that hurt just as much as it loved. “With everything in me,” he said. “I love you so much that it physically hurts to say this.” He let out a broken laugh, running a hand through his curls before gripping the back of his neck. “I hate this, Y/N. I hate myself for saying it. But if we’re meant to be, we’ll find our way back.”

Her chin trembled as she tried to process it all. “And what if we don’t?”

Harry’s breath hitched. He blinked rapidly, like he was trying to keep his own tears from falling. “Then I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering what if.”

Y/N clenched her jaw, willing herself to stay strong, but her heart was shattering. “I don’t know how to be without you.”

He let out a soft, broken sound, his forehead falling to rest against hers. “You don’t have to figure it out all at once,” he whispered. “Just promise me something.”

She swallowed hard. “What?”

“When the time comes—if we ever get another chance—promise me you’ll let me fight for you.”

A sob escaped her lips, and she closed her eyes, feeling his warmth, memorizing the way he smelled, the way he held her like she was something precious. She didn’t know how to promise him that. She didn’t know if she could.

But in that moment, with her heart breaking in his hands, she whispered the only word she could.

“Okay.”

And just like that, it was over.

They laid together for a long time, neither speaking, neither moving—just breathing in the same space, clinging to the last moments before everything changed. Y/N listened to the steady rhythm of Harry’s heartbeat beneath her cheek, memorizing the way it sounded, the way it felt against her skin.

His hand ran absentmindedly up and down her arm, slow and soothing, like he was trying to calm them both, like he wanted to keep this moment suspended in time. But time didn’t stop. It never did.

Eventually, he stirred, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of her head before shifting beneath her. She knew what was coming before he even said it, but hearing the words still made her stomach twist.

“I should go home,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

Y/N didn’t move, didn’t lift her head from his chest. If she did, it would make this real. And she wasn’t ready.

Harry exhaled shakily and brought his fingers beneath her chin, gently tilting her face up so she had no choice but to look at him. His green eyes were glossy, his expression torn, his lips parted like he wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words. Instead, he leaned in, pressing the softest, most devastating kiss to her lips—slow, full of love, full of sorrow, full of everything they still were but couldn’t be anymore.

When he pulled away, he lingered for just a second, his forehead against hers, his breath warm on her skin. Then, without another word, he stood.

She didn’t watch him leave. She couldn’t.

That night, she laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, the ghost of his touch still lingering on her skin. She waited for sleep, but it never came—not that night, not the next, not for a long, long time.

And even when exhaustion finally won, she woke up empty. Every single time.

Five Years Later

The late afternoon sun streamed through Y/N’s apartment windows as she flipped through the stack of mail she had just pulled from the box. Bills, a few random flyers, and then—her fingers paused as she caught sight of an envelope with elegant gold script.

Her heart lifted immediately.

Tearing it open, she pulled out a beautifully embossed wedding invitation, the words practically sparkling off the page: Mallory & Ethan—Join us as we celebrate our love!

A grin spread across Y/N’s face. She barely took a moment to admire the details before grabbing her phone and dialing.

It rang twice before a familiar voice answered. “If this isn’t Y/N calling to say she got my invitation, I will be thoroughly disappointed.”

Y/N laughed. “Guess you won’t be disappointed, then.”

Mal squealed on the other end. “You got it!”

“Of course I did. And obviously, I’ll be there. Like I’d miss my best friend’s wedding.”

“Ugh, I’m so excited! It’s getting so real now. I was just finalizing the seating chart and—wait.” Mal gasped dramatically. “Are you bringing a date? Tell me you’re finally letting some poor soul take you out.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling as she walked into her kitchen and leaned against the counter. “No, Mal. I’m not into dating right now.”

Mal groaned. “It has been years, Y/N.”

“I know.”

“And you’re telling me no one has caught your interest? Not a single, ridiculously attractive, emotionally stable man?”

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “Nope. No one’s been worth the effort.”

Mal sighed in defeat. “Fine, fine. You can be my honorary date instead.”

Y/N grinned. “Gladly.”

The girls dissolved into laughter, the excitement buzzing between them. It was going to be a beautiful day, a celebration of love.

The following months passed in a blur of wedding excitement—not hers, but Mal’s. Still, as Y/N shopped for a dress, something about it felt personal in a way she hadn’t expected.

She stood in front of the fitting room mirror, smoothing her hands over the fabric of yet another gown. It wasn’t even white, just a simple, elegant dress for a bridesmaid. But every time she looked at herself, every time she turned to see how it moved, her mind wandered to a place she tried so hard to ignore.

What would Harry think if he saw me in this?

And then the thoughts spiraled.

What would I look like standing next to him at a wedding? What if it were our wedding?

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to shake the thoughts away, but they always came back.

Harry had always been the one. Even when he wasn’t.

They used to talk about it—getting married. Not in a serious, let’s-plan-this-right-now way, but in the way that two people who love each other deeply do when they think forever is inevitable.

She could still picture it—late nights in bed, her head resting on his bare chest, fingers tracing lazy patterns over his tattooed skin.

“What would your dream wedding be like?” he had asked once, his voice thick with sleep.

Y/N had smiled, shifting so she could look up at him. “Small,” she had said. “Somewhere beautiful. Maybe Italy or the English countryside. I want twinkly lights everywhere, candles, good food, and dancing until our feet hurt.”

Harry had hummed, running a hand through her hair. “Sounds perfect.”

She had smirked. “What about you? Or do you just plan on showing up in a suit and letting me do all the work?”

He chuckled, his dimples deepening as he turned onto his side, facing her. “I wanna write my vows the night before. Just me, a glass of whiskey, and all my thoughts about you spilling out onto paper.”

Y/N had rolled her eyes. “You’d procrastinate on our wedding vows?”

Harry grinned, brushing his lips over hers. “You’d love ‘em anyway.”

And he was right. She would have.

She would have loved anything, as long as it was with him.

But now, standing in a dressing room, staring at herself in a dress that wasn’t even a wedding gown, it hit her. 

Still, every dress she tried on, she imagined what it would look like if Harry was standing beside her. If she was choosing a dress for him, for them.

And God, she hated that even after all these years, part of her still wanted that life with him.

The airport was bustling with the usual chaos—rolling suitcases, hurried announcements over the intercom, the hum of travelers moving toward their destinations. Y/N clutched her boarding pass, shifting her carry-on higher on her shoulder as she navigated through the crowd.

She had traveled alone before, but this time felt different. There was an unshakable feeling in her chest, something stirring beneath the surface. Maybe it was just wedding nerves, maybe it was seeing Mal walk down the aisle, maybe it was the inevitable string of questions about when she would settle down.

Or maybe it was something else entirely.

The flight was smooth, and she spent most of it staring out the window, watching the clouds shift below her. Her mind wandered, drifting through old memories, old conversations, old pieces of herself that she thought she had let go of. But that was the thing about love—about Harry. It never really left.

After landing, she gathered her luggage and stepped out into the crisp air. The venue for Mal’s wedding was a dreamy countryside estate, nestled just far enough away from the city to feel like a secluded fairytale.

The car ride from the airport was quiet, scenic views rolling past the window as she watched the world blur by. When the car finally pulled up to the venue, her breath caught.

The estate was stunning—classic architecture with ivy climbing up the stone, fairy lights already twinkling along the pathways. It was exactly the kind of place she and Harry used to talk about for their own wedding.

She sighed, pushing the thought away as she stepped out of the car.

Before she could grab her bags, an excited squeal filled the air.

“You’re here!”

Y/N turned just in time to see Mal rushing toward her in a sundress and bare feet, arms outstretched.

She barely had time to drop her bag before Mal threw herself into her arms, squeezing her tight. Y/N laughed, hugging her back. “I told you I was coming.”

“I know, but now you’re actually here!” Mal pulled back, her eyes sparkling. “Come on, I need to show you everything! The venue, the flowers, my dress—I have so much to tell you.”

Y/N grinned, letting Mal drag her toward the estate, momentarily allowing herself to get lost in the excitement.

For now, she focused on the wedding, on Mal’s happiness.

What she didn’t know was that somewhere inside this very venue, Harry Styles had also just arrived.

Y/N followed Mal through the estate, taking in the stunning surroundings—the sprawling gardens, the delicate string lights woven through the trees, the elegant reception area where tables were already being set up with crisp linens and gold accents. It was breathtaking, the kind of wedding Mal had always dreamed of.

“I know it’s a little over the top,” Mal said, grinning as she led Y/N toward the main hall. “But Ethan wanted something classic and romantic, and honestly, who was I to argue? I’m marrying the love of my life—I’d say I’m winning here.”

Y/N laughed. “It’s perfect, Mal. Seriously. It’s like something out of a movie.”

Mal gave her an approving nod before looping her arm through Y/N’s. “Speaking of perfect—are you sure you don’t want me to set you up with someone at the wedding? Ethan has some very attractive friends.”

Y/N groaned. “Mal—”

“Okay, okay! Just saying. No pressure.” Mal smirked. “But I do expect you to have at least one fun, flirty dance with someone. It’s a wedding, Y/N. You deserve a little romance.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll think about it.”

They stepped inside the main hall, where final touches were still being put together—florists arranging centerpieces, staff preparing tables. It was a flurry of beautiful chaos.

And then, just as Y/N turned to say something to Mal, she heard his voice.

“Mal?”

The world around her froze.

That voice. That voice.

Slowly, she turned her head, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes landed on him.

Harry.

He stood just a few feet away, looking exactly like she remembered and somehow entirely different all at once. His hair was shorter than it had been back then, but still slightly tousled, his sharp jawline even more defined. He was dressed casually in a white button-down, sleeves rolled up, tattoos peeking through. But it was his eyes—those familiar, heartbreakingly green eyes—that sent a shock through her system.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Neither of them breathed.

Mal, oblivious to the sudden tension, grinned and rushed toward him. “There you are! I was wondering when you’d get here.”

Harry tore his gaze away from Y/N, hugging Mal briefly. “Yeah, just got in. Thought I’d check in before the rehearsal.”

Mal beamed, then gestured between them. “You remember Y/N, right?”

Harry’s gaze flickered back to her, something unreadable flashing across his face. His lips parted, and for the first time in five years, he spoke her name.

“Y/N.”

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t casual. It was heavy with everything unsaid.

Y/N forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat, to keep herself steady.

“Harry.”

The air between them was thick, the past pressing in on them like a ghost.

Mal, still completely unaware, clapped her hands together. “Oh, this is perfect! You two already know each other! Harry is one of Ethan’s best mates, and I was just about to tell Y/N she should have a dance with someone at the wedding.”

Y/N nearly choked.

Harry’s lips twitched, the ghost of a smirk playing there, but his eyes stayed locked on hers.

Mal grinned between them. “Okay, I have a million things to do, but you two should catch up! I’ll find you later, Y/N.”

Before Y/N could protest, Mal was gone, leaving her standing there with him.

Silence stretched between them.

Finally, Harry cleared his throat, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

Y/N let out a soft, breathy laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah. Same.”

And just like that, the past wasn’t so far away anymore.

The silence between them stretched for a moment, thick with years of unsaid words and lingering memories. Y/N could feel her pulse in her ears, her heart slamming against her ribcage as she tried to figure out what the hell she was supposed to say to the man who had once been her whole world.

Then, Harry’s lips parted, and his voice was softer than she expected. “You look beautiful.”

The words sent a shiver down her spine. It wasn’t just polite small talk, it was genuine. His gaze lingered on her like he was memorizing every detail, like he was seeing her for the first time all over again.

Y/N swallowed, shifting her weight slightly. “Thanks,” she said, her voice coming out quieter than she intended. She forced herself to shake off the nerves, tilting her head as she took him in. “You cut your hair.”

Harry let out a small chuckle, running a hand through the shorter strands. “Yeah. Needed a change, I guess.”

She nodded, her eyes flickering over him, the tattoos on his arms more defined, his shoulders broader, his presence somehow even more commanding than it had been back then. But beyond all that, there was something else—something settled in his expression, in the way he carried himself. He had changed.

“Looks good,” she admitted.

A small smirk tugged at his lips. “Yeah? Thought you liked it long.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, a familiar warmth creeping up her spine. “I did. But you pull this off, too.”

Harry laughed, a sound that sent a flicker of something dangerous through her chest. “High praise, then.”

She exhaled, crossing her arms over her chest as she studied him. “You’ve been busy,” she said, her voice even. “The albums, the movies… you’ve done everything you said you would.”

Harry’s expression softened, his hands still tucked into his pockets. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I guess I have.”

Y/N nodded, a small, bittersweet smile pulling at her lips. “I’m happy for you, Harry. Really.”

He held her gaze, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. “Thanks, love.” The old term of endearment slipped out effortlessly, like it had never left his vocabulary, like five years hadn’t passed.

Y/N’s breath caught for just a second, but she didn’t let it show. Instead, she offered a small smile and looked away, focusing on the wedding preparations happening around them.

“So,” Harry said after a moment, rocking back on his heels. “What about you?”

Y/N turned back to him, raising a brow. “What about me?”

His gaze was steady. “How’ve you been?”

There was something in the way he asked—something deeper, something careful.

She hesitated, then shrugged. “Good. Life’s been… steady. Work, friends, the usual.”

Harry’s lips pressed together like he wanted to ask more, but before he could, a voice called his name from across the room.

Ethan, the groom.

Harry glanced over his shoulder, giving a small nod in acknowledgment before turning back to her. “I should probably—”

Y/N nodded quickly, stepping back. “Yeah, of course.”

He hesitated, then gave her a small, lingering smile. “It’s really good to see you, Y/N.”

She swallowed, her heart doing something stupid in her chest. “You too, Harry.”

And just like that, he was gone, walking toward Ethan, blending into the crowd like he hadn’t just turned her world upside down all over again.

Y/N wanted to scream.

Scream in anger for the way he had just waltzed back into her life like five years hadn’t passed, like he hadn’t left her lying awake at night, wondering if she would ever stop missing him.

Scream in joy because—God help her—she had missed him. Seeing him again had ignited something in her chest. 

But instead, she took a shaky breath, pulled out her phone, and opened her messages.

Y/N: Naomi. Emergency.

A few seconds later, the typing bubbles appeared.

Naomi: Omg what happened?? Did someone spill wine on Mal’s dress? Did you trip in heels?

Y/N: Harry. Is. Here.

A long pause. Then:

Naomi: I’m sorry. WHAT.

Y/N: HE IS HERE. AS IN, PHYSICALLY PRESENT. IN THE SAME ROOM AS ME.

Naomi: WHAT THE HELL. HOW. WHY. ARE YOU BREATHING.

Y/N: BARELY.

She could practically hear Naomi screaming through the phone screen.

Naomi: Start from the beginning. How did it happen??

Y/N exhaled sharply, moving to a quieter corner of the venue as she leaned against a column, her fingers flying across the keyboard.

Y/N: I was with Mal, she was showing me around, and then I heard his voice. I turned around and there he was. Just standing there like he wasn’t about to send me into cardiac arrest.

Naomi: Holy. Shit.

Y/N: He told me I looked beautiful.

Naomi: YOU’RE KIDDING ME.

Y/N: I WISH I WAS.

Naomi: What else did he say??

Y/N hesitated, biting her lip before typing:

Y/N: We talked a little. He asked about me. I told him I was happy for him. It was… weird. Like no time had passed, but also like a lifetime had.

Naomi: Oh my god. Are you okay? Like, genuinely?

Y/N let out a breath, staring at the screen for a long moment before responding.

Y/N: I don’t know.

Naomi didn’t respond right away, and for once, Y/N was grateful. Because she really didn’t know.

Naomi finally responded after a long pause.

Naomi: Do you need me to fly out there? Because I will.

Y/N smiled slightly, shaking her head even though Naomi couldn’t see her.

Y/N: No, you’re off the hook. I’ll survive.

Naomi: Will you?

That was the real question, wasn’t it? Would she survive this? Would she survive seeing Harry, being near him, pretending that it didn’t shake her to her core?

Before she could respond, Mal’s voice rang through the hall.

“There you are!” Mal rushed up to Y/N, her eyes bright. “I need you to come to the rehearsal dinner in like, twenty minutes. Bridesmaid duties. You’re sitting at the head table, by the way.”

Y/N blinked, still slightly disoriented from everything that had just happened. “Wait—what?”

Mal rolled her eyes. “You’re basically my sister, of course you’re sitting with me. Ethan’s groomsmen will be there too, obviously.” She paused, her expression turning smug. “Including Harry.”

Y/N felt her stomach drop. “Mal.”

Mal grinned innocently. “What? You two used to know each other. Might as well catch up.”

Y/N groaned, rubbing a hand over her face. She quickly looked at her phone. 

Naomi: Why do I feel like something is about to go down?

Y/N sighed, typing back.

Y/N: Because it probably is.

She locked her phone and exhaled deeply.her.

Y/N stopped in her tracks, gripping Mal’s arm before she could walk off. “Mal.”

Mal turned, eyebrows raised. “What?”

Y/N took a deep breath, her heart pounding. “Harry… he’s the ex.”

Mal blinked, not catching on immediately. “What do you mean ‘the ex’?”

Y/N stared at her, her throat tightening. “The ex, Mal. The one I never got over.”

Mal’s jaw dropped. “Wait. Wait. Harry is that Harry?”

Y/N just nodded, feeling her stomach twist.

Mal’s eyes widened in horror. “Y/N! Why didn’t you tell me?! I just—oh my God—I just forced you into sitting at a table with him! I basically told you to flirt with your ex-boyfriend!”

Y/N let out a weak laugh, rubbing her temples. “Yeah. You did.”

Mal looked genuinely panicked, placing her hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “Okay, do you want me to change the seating? I can put you somewhere else. I can banish him to the other side of the room if you want.”

Y/N hesitated, her heart a mess of emotions. Every logical part of her was screaming yes, but deep down, there was something else. A tiny part of her—one she wanted to ignore—knew she wasn’t ready to run from this.

She swallowed hard. “No… don’t change anything.”

Mal searched her face. “Are you sure?”

Y/N exhaled slowly. “No. If I’ve spent the last five years surviving without him, I can survive one dinner.”

Mal groaned, shaking her head. “I cannot believe I was the one to unknowingly throw you into this situation.”

Y/N gave her a small smile. “It’s not your fault. I never really talk about him.”

Mal frowned. “That should’ve been my first clue.”

They stood there for a moment before Mal squeezed her hands. “Okay. If at any point you need an out, just say the word, and I’ll stage an emergency.”

Y/N smiled despite the nerves in her chest. “Thanks, Mal.”

Mal smirked. “And for what it’s worth… the way he looked at you earlier? Yeah. That man is not over you either.”

Y/N’s breath caught, but before she could respond, Mal looped her arm through hers and started leading her toward the dining hall.

“Alright, let’s get this over with.”

Y/N walked into the rehearsal dinner with Mal, her stomach twisting into knots. The dining hall was breathtaking—soft candlelight flickered across the elegantly decorated tables, and laughter filled the room as guests mingled. It should have felt warm, exciting, celebratory. Instead, it felt like she was walking straight into the eye of a storm.

Her eyes scanned the head table, and sure enough, there he was.

Harry sat near Ethan, laughing at something one of the other groomsmen said. He looked relaxed, at ease, but the second his gaze flickered up and landed on her, something shifted. His smile faltered—just for a second—before he quickly masked it. But Y/N caught it.

And it made her chest tighten.

“Breathe,” Mal whispered in her ear.

Y/N inhaled deeply, forcing a polite smile as Mal pulled her toward her seat.

“Alright, everyone, take your seats!” Ethan’s voice rang out, and people began settling in.

Y/N’s heart pounded as she approached her spot at the table. As fate would have it, she was seated directly across from Harry.

Of course she was.

Mal slid into her chair beside her, oblivious to the internal battle raging inside Y/N’s head. Or maybe she wasn’t—because when Y/N hesitated for half a second too long, Mal gave her a subtle nudge.

Y/N had no choice but to sit.

As soon as she did, the table conversation picked up, and for a few moments, she thought maybe she could get through this dinner unscathed. But then—

“You look nice.”

The deep, familiar voice sent a shiver down her spine.

She looked up, and there he was. Harry. Looking right at her.

For a second, she forgot how to breathe.

She cleared her throat, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks,” she murmured. “You do too.”

He gave a small smile, but there was something behind his eyes—something hesitant, something unsure.

Ethan, oblivious to the tension, clapped a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Mate, did you know Y/N used to date a musician?”

Y/N nearly choked on her drink.

Harry’s brows lifted slightly, amusement flickering across his face. “Oh?”

Ethan grinned. “Yeah! I don’t think she ever got over him, asshole broke up with her to go fuck around.”

Mal visibly cringed. “Ethan—”

Y/N wanted the ground to swallow her whole.

Harry’s gaze was steady, his lips twitching like he was fighting back a smirk. He looked at her, his voice smooth as ever.

“Yeah?” he mused. “Wonder what happened to him.”

Y/N shot him a glare across the table, her face burning, while Mal reached for Ethan’s hand and squeezed it in warning.

Ethan frowned, confused for a second before realization dawned on his face. His eyes darted between Harry and Y/N, his mouth dropping open. “Wait—no way.”

Y/N groaned, covering her face. Mal let out a nervous laugh, while Harry just sat back, looking far too amused.

Ethan whistled low. “Wow. Okay. This just got interesting.”

Y/N peeked up at Harry, who was still watching her with that unreadable look in his eyes.

Ethan finally shut up after a pointed glare from Mal, and conversation around the table shifted away from Y/N’s romantic history—or rather, her history with Harry Styles. But the damage had already been done.

Y/N felt the weight of Harry’s gaze every so often, his eyes flickering toward her between conversations, his expression unreadable. She did everything in her power to ignore it, to focus on the food, on Mal’s wedding plans, on anything but the fact that Harry was sitting across from her, looking like a damn dream, completely unbothered by the chaos he had just walked into.

Eventually, the dinner plates were cleared, and drinks were passed around. Mal and Ethan stood to give a short thank-you speech, and while everyone was clapping and toasting, Y/N took the opportunity to slip outside for some air.

She stepped onto the balcony, the cool evening breeze brushing against her skin. She exhaled slowly, gripping the railing, trying to steady herself.

The air was crisp outside, a welcome contrast to the warmth and noise of the rehearsal dinner. Y/N gripped the railing, inhaling deeply, trying to calm the storm brewing in her chest.

She heard the door creak open behind her, followed by the familiar sound of footsteps.

“Running away already?”

She closed her eyes briefly before turning her head. Harry stood there, hands in his pockets, watching her with that same unreadable expression.

“Not running,” she murmured. “Just… breathing.”

He hummed in response, stepping closer until he was beside her, leaning against the railing. Their shoulders barely touched, but the proximity sent a ripple through her.

Silence settled between them, the weight of five years pressing down on both of them.

Harry exhaled, his fingers tapping lightly against the wood. “I tried.”

Y/N frowned slightly, turning to look at him. “Tried what?”

His jaw tightened for a brief moment before he met her gaze. His voice was steady, quiet. “To find something that felt like this.”

Her breath caught.

“Like us.”

The words settled between them, thick and heavy, cutting through the cool night air like a blade.

Y/N swallowed, her fingers tightening around the railing. She should say something—anything—but her mind was blank, her heart betraying her with how hard it was pounding in her chest.

Instead, she forced herself to look away, staring out at the dark horizon. “Did you?”

A beat of silence. Then, just as softly—

“No.”

The quiet stretched between them, filled with everything they weren’t saying.

Y/N closed her eyes briefly, exhaling through her nose. “Harry…”

He let out a quiet, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “I know.”

But he didn’t move.

And neither did she.

The weight of his words sat between them, thick and unmoving. Y/N stared out at the night sky, her grip on the railing tightening.

She had waited.

For months. For years.

She had waited for the moment when he would come back, when the universe would prove him right—that if they were meant to be, they’d find their way back to each other.

But he never came.

And so, she had forced herself to move on, to let go of the idea of him and the promises they had made.

Except now, here he was. Standing beside her, his presence as overwhelming as ever.

She turned to him then, her voice quieter, but firm. “You told me if we were meant to be, we’d find our way back.”

Harry inhaled sharply, his gaze locking onto hers. “I remember.”

Her throat tightened. “I waited, Harry.”

A shadow crossed his face, pain flickering in his eyes. “I know.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

She shook her head slightly. “I told myself I wouldn’t. That I couldn’t. But I did anyway.” She swallowed, the emotions she had buried for so long threatening to surface. “And the thing is… I didn’t have to let you fight for me.” She met his gaze, steady and unflinching. “Because you were always the one.”

Harry’s breath hitched, his hands curling into fists at his sides like he was physically restraining himself from reaching for her.

She didn’t look away.

“I was yours, Harry,” she whispered. “Always.”

Harry let out a sharp exhale, his chest rising and falling unevenly. He looked like he wanted to say something—needed to—but the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, he did what he had always done.

He looked at her like she was his entire world.

The space between them was thick with tension, a storm neither of them could outrun. Y/N’s heart pounded, her breath coming in uneven waves as she tried to steady herself.

Harry looked wrecked, his hands twitching at his sides like he was holding himself back, like the only thing keeping him from reaching for her was the fear that she’d pull away.

“I thought about coming back a million times,” he admitted, his voice raw. “But every time I convinced myself it was too late. That you’d moved on, that I’d lost my chance.”

Y/N exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “I waited for you, Harry.” Her voice cracked, but she didn’t care. “You said if we were meant to be, we’d find our way back. And I believed you.” She swallowed hard. 

His jaw tensed, pain flashing in his eyes. “I was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“That you deserved better than someone who left you.” His voice was barely above a whisper, like he hated himself for even saying it. “Scared that if I came back, I’d ruin you all over again.”

Y/N’s throat tightened, her emotions bubbling too close to the surface. “And what about me?” she whispered. “Did you ever think about what it did to me when you didn’t come back?”

Harry flinched like she had physically struck him. He took a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair before looking at her again, his green eyes burning into hers. “I never stopped thinking about you, Y/N. Not for a single day.”

She sucked in a breath, her hands trembling at her sides. “Why now, Harry?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “Because I can’t pretend anymore. I can’t stand in the same room as you and act like I don’t still love you.”

Y/N’s heart slammed against her ribs. “You—”

“I love you.” His voice was steady, sure. “I never stopped.”

A strangled breath escaped her lips. Every wall she had built over the years, every defense she had tried to put up—it all crumbled in an instant.

Because she loved him, too.

She always had.

And maybe she always would.

Before she could stop herself, before she could think about the consequences, she surged forward, her hands gripping his face as she crashed her lips against his.

Harry let out a soft, surprised sound before sinking into her, his hands flying to her waist, pulling her closer, like he had been starving for her.

The kiss was desperate, aching, filled with everything they had lost, everything they had missed, everything that still burned between them.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless and shaken, Harry rested his forehead against hers, his hands still firm on her waist.

“Tell me it’s not too late,” he whispered, his voice barely holding together.

Y/N’s hands trembled as she cupped his face, her thumb brushing against his cheek.

“It was never too late,” she whispered back.

Harry let out a shaky breath, his forehead still resting against hers. His grip on her waist tightened, like he was afraid she’d disappear if he let go.

Y/N felt the warmth of his skin, the way his chest rose and fell in sync with hers, and for the first time in years, she felt like she could breathe.

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her fingers still cradling his face. His green eyes were glassy, searching hers for something—reassurance, hope, maybe even forgiveness.

“I can’t do this again if you’re not sure, Harry,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I barely survived losing you once.”

Harry shook his head instantly, his hands cupping the small of her back, holding her like he never wanted to let go. “I’m sure,” he said, his voice firm. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Y/N let out a shaky laugh, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill. “You say that now.”

“I say that because I know what it’s like without you.” He swallowed hard, brushing his thumb over her cheek. “I’ve spent five years trying to figure out who I am, trying to find something that felt even remotely close to what we had. And I couldn’t.”

Her breath hitched, and she let her hands drop from his face to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palms.

“So what now?” she murmured.

Harry gave her a small, almost nervous smile. “Now I prove to you that I mean it.”

Y/N felt something crack open inside her, something she had kept locked away since the day he left.

Before she could second-guess herself, before doubt could creep in, she nodded. “Okay.”

Harry’s face softened, and he let out a breath of relief. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

A slow, almost disbelieving grin spread across his face before he leaned in again, pressing the gentlest, most reverent kiss against her lips—like he was sealing a promise.

Y/N melted into him, her fingers curling into his shirt, anchoring herself to him, to this.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t easy.

But it was them.

[beomiracles]

𝓞𝐅 𝓢𝐍𝓞𝐖 𝓐𝐍𝐃 𝓢𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝓔𝐑𝓔𝐃 𝓦𝓘𝐍𝐆𝐒

𝓓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ Foolish girl. You should know better than to wander up the snowy and cold mountains all by yourself. Yet you march onward, not caring for the biting frost as you draw your coat tighter around yourself. The tales told by your old grandfather had been enough to fuel your curiosity, to push the bounds of danger as you sought to see the dragons for yourself. — Perhaps you got more than you bargained for when you suddenly stumble across the one everyone thought to be extinct; the ice dragon. ⸝⸝

𝓹airing dragon!taehyun x human!reader (f) 𝔀arnings descriptions of injuries/blood, supernatural au, kissing, character death (not main), shitty and poor writing, lowkey rushed toward the end, kills myself.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ wc, 14.1k ་༘࿐

#serene adds ✎.. my contribution to The Veils Of Aethera which is kind of very shit and probably the worst piece I have ever written (I'm exaggerating, maybe..) no but theres a lot of plot holes, which I did not have time to fill out but could definitely explain if someone wants me to, because in my head I have all the answers and um yes. I haven't proofread this once and I'm not going to because im nic sick off my ass and also on the verge of just falling asleep hm, anyway I love u guys heh please don't be mad at me for posting something so below my usual level >-<

ONCE UPON A TIME… In a land far far away, where the treetops touched the soft clouds of the sky, and the water sparkled under the glowing sun. Where mountains rose high and in which long, deep caves ran. Where the sea met shore in a collision of tall waves. Where the undead walked among the living. Where the winged flew above the finned. In a land where things beyond any reason and rhyme existed. And amongst those very beings, within the veils of Aethera, there was… 

FIRE, burning hotter than the sun. Orange and yellow flames dancing before your very eyes, their warmth caressing your face, shunning the cold around and embracing you. Fire warm enough to kill, if they wanted to. — Turning forests into ash, melting even the firmest of steel armor, incinerating entire kingdoms with one mere breath. 

The dragon’s powerful roar echoes over the mountain tops, loud enough for trees to shake. Even the wind gave way as they soared through the sky. Large wings slapping against the cool air as they danced through the clouds. Untamed beasts, that’s how most described them. Wild and fueled only by their desire and rage to destroy everything around them. 

Few humans were fortunate enough to face one of these creatures and live to tell the tale. But the ones that did were graced with luck for many generations to come. These humans, those who sought not to fight but to learn about these beasts, were a different kind of people. Reckless in the eyes of other humans but courageous in the eyes of the dragon. 

Together they conquered the skies, not as two but as one. Their souls connected with one another as they played a game of perfect synchronization. Moving swiftly in the dark, silently communicating with nothing but the twitch of a muscle. It was a different kind of understanding, a mutual one, a bond that ran far deeper than any other. 

A raspy cough slices through the image of the dark fiery dragon gliding through the sky and your attention immediately shifts to the old man in front of you. — “Grandpa! Are you alright?” Quickly rising to your feet, you scurry toward the old man as you kneel before him. He gives a weak nod, dismissing you with the wave of his wrinkly hand. 

“I’m fine, dearest..” He mutters, though the strain of his voice betrays his words. Still, you nod as your thumbs caress the back of his hand. “Now, where was I? — Ah yes, the dragons..” He shifts in his chair, the blanket slipping from his legs, and you rush to shove it back in place. Your old grandpa clears his throat as he prepares to continue. 

“You see there were these formations they would do in the air and–” — “Alfred, that’s quite enough.” The brisk voice of your aunt, Fiona, pierces through the air. She sways by the doorway, her arms folded neatly across her chest as her dark gaze narrowed on your grandpa. With a small grumble he adjusts himself in his seat, muttering something about Fiona being “a persistent know-it-all.” 

Your aunt doesn’t seem to care for his bitterness, for she did not enjoy hearing him talk about those “creatures” as she referred to them as. Instead she brushes past you, her arms wrapping around the old man as she helps him to his feet. “Enough about those lizards, come to bed.” — With a small glance over her shoulder, she addresses you in a most derogatory tone. “Make use of yourself out in the garden will you? Your grandpa needs to rest.” 

The sun is warm against your face as you squint toward it. Your aunt had a lovely garden, situated just on the edge of the forest, by the very far end of the kingdom. Humming along to the soft tune of a slow melody, your hands busy themselves with hanging the damp garments on the clothesline that was tied between two posts. 

A gentle breeze makes the wet fabric sway in the wind and you skip out of its way as you reach for one of the dresses. — “Thought I told you to let those things go.” The voice of your aunt slices through the relaxing atmosphere. She bends down to pick a pair of smaller pants from the basket, belonging to your younger cousin. 

Even if her words remained vague and dismissing, there was no doubt that she was referring to the stories she’d walked in on your grandpa sharing, yet again. When your silence has gone on for a good minute she continues, “You know how he gets, going on and on about that nonsense..” Fiona huffs as she gives the pants a harsh shake before folding them across the string. 

“But I should like to hear him out- His stories are beyond interesting, and he’s delighted to share them!” You chime in, a small, hopeful smile stretching across your lips. It was true, to reminisce about the tales of his youth seemed to be the only thing that brought your grandfather any sort of joy these days. It made the wrinkles around his eyes deepen when he smiled, a low breathy laugh rumbling within his chest. 

Your aunt Fiona shoots you a pointed look, her attention then drifting back to the damp clothes. “That is all that they are, stories. But your old grandpa does not seem to know the difference between tales and truth anymore.” She heaves a sigh as she turns to you, “Lest us not make matters worse by encouraging these…fantasies.” Her tone was final, like a large wooden door being slammed shut in your face. You held your tongue, returning to your chores as the day continued on. 

Dinner was chaotic, as it always was. With plates clattering against the small wooden table and glasses being tipped over. Your younger cousins bickered, their loud and whiny voices filling the cramped room. “Boys! Enough.” Fiona looks tired when placing the large pot of soup on the middle of the table, in the center of the whirlwind. The twins however, immediately quiet down though they continue to glower at one another. 

“He started it!” William shouts as he points to his brother, Theodore, who merely shakes his head. “Did not!” — “Did too!” For each time their whining voices grew all the louder, soon overpowering any coherent thought you might have. A small tap to your side diverts your attention from the arguing taking place. Mira, your youngest cousin, points to the jug of water, silently requesting you give her some. 

She was quiet, awfully so, in fact you don’t think you’d heard hear utter more than three words during meal time. You oblige by pouring her a glass, setting the jug back just in time for your aunt to give the twins a harsh tug to their ears, making them protest loudly. — “Give your mother a break will ya?” Her voice is harsh, leaving a thick silence behind as she lets go of her sons and takes a seat by the high end of the table. 

Opposite your aunt Fiona, sits your grandfather. He seems lost in thought as his wrinkly fingers play with the spoon on his hand. Everyone is now turning his way, waiting patiently for him to begin eating. It was customary to let the oldest man of the house eat before anyone else, and usually your grandpa was not late to indulge… Today, he seems distracted. 

“Father, are you not hungry?” Your aunt tries as she leans forward, gripping her own spoon tightly. You watch as his brows raise on his aged forehead, and your grandfather hums as his gaze drops to the bowl before him, as if he’d just realized its presence. — “Huh..” He huffs, readjusting his grip on the silverware as he stirs the warm soup. “Oh yes..” He murmurs, bringing a spoonful to his lips as he begins to eat. 

Everyone sighs in relief, all following as they, too, begin to feast. For some reason you find yourself unable to. Your gaze lingers by your old grandpa, noting the slight tremble to his hand and the effort it took for him to swallow. Often did you worry for his health, for how long you had left with him. Regardless of his condition, there was little you could do for him. It pained you greatly. 

Just like everynight, you tucked your grandpa in before bed. He’d gotten quite disoriented during later months and needed help getting from one place to another. With your arm around his weak frame, another one waiting to assist, you move him from his rocking chair and over to the soft mattress. — “There you go, pops. — Careful with your knees.” 

Your grandfather scoffs as he waves a dismissing hand your way. “Enough dear, these legs used to conquer battlefields, they shan’t submit to a short walk..” Still, there was an undeniable tremble to him as he slowly lowered himself onto the bed. — Only once you’d drawn the thick blanket over him, did he finally seem at ease once more. 

He hums to a foreign melody as you fiddle with the oil lamp on his bedside table. — “Ah, did I tell you about that one time… The one where I met a sundragon head on?” Your grandpa stifles a cough against his palm before shaking his head lightly. Though his train of thought was cut short when you place a gentle hand on his chest. 

“It’s getting late pops, you need to rest.” The smile you send him is far from convincing and you quickly avoid his piercing gaze as you adjust the lamp one final time. You never turned down one of his stories, even if you’d heard it a hundred times before. He was bound to catch onto it, and he did. The sounds of sheets rustling rings in your ears as he props himself up on a weak elbow. 

“Did my daughter tell you to stop encouraging me?” 

It wasn’t a question but a statement. Despite your reluctance, you slowly admit to it as you give a meek nod. Your gaze trains to your hands as they rest in your lap, seated on the edge of his bed. Your grandpa makes a small noise of disbelief as he thumps back against the mattress. “Just as stubborn as her mother..” He mutters as he gazes up at the ceiling. 

For a moment, a still silence fills the small bedroom, nothing but the wind tearing through the trees outside to be heard. Then your old grandfather suddenly speaks again. “Your aunt has every reason to resent those creatures, given what happened to my father..” — Your ears perk up at the mention of your great grandfather. He was, according to your grandpa, a man like no else. One who not only faced the dragons but even soared through the sky alongside them. 

Well, at least until… Your grandpa’s hoarse voice interrupts your scattered thoughts. “I do not blame her”, he murmurs, sounding almost melancholic. Yet you’re able to catch the undeniable glint in his eyes, the one that would shine whenever he spoke of his past. “Still…”, he coughs, a low and weasel sound, “I would like to see them one last time.” 

“To see the dragons once more, that is my final wish.” 

𓍼ོ

The very next morning is cold, a lot colder than a typical summer one in Aethera. You tug your coat tighter around yourself, even your gloved hands slowly succumbing to the biting frost. It’s early, much so that the sun itself has yet to rise over the horizon. — Quietly, you slip out of your aunt's small cottage, sealing the door shut behind you as you give a final glance over your shoulder. 

Your footsteps crunch against the leaves and twigs as you make your way through the thick and dense forest. Nature around you was still asleep, at least, most of it. You did not dare stop to think about what kind of creatures roamed these woods, what kind of entities lingered in its shadows.. A shiver runs down your spine and you shudder before pushing those thoughts aside, marching forward with hasty steps. 

And soon enough, the trees part, making way for the large mountains ahead. With newfound eagerness, you rush forward, more than ready to leave the dark forest behind as you emerge from the treeline. — You pause, finding yourself in complete awe as you stare up at large stones, crafted by nature itself, their tops covered in a bright blanket of white snow. 

Here you were bound to find what you were looking for. Dragons. Determined to fulfill your grandfather’s dying wish, the least you could do was set out to bring back the one thing he sought to see the most. You knew a lot about dragons, well, as much as he’d let on to in his stories. Still, the thought of seeing one up close.. It made your stomach tingle. 

But the mountain is a lot crueler than you’d anticipated. The hike to the top is unforgiving, tearing your limbs apart as your body aches. You’re panting, knee deep in thick snow as you battle against the harsh winds. In spite of it being late July, the harsh conditions of the Frosty Peaks seemed to know no bounds as it served you whiplash after whiplash. 

Frantically your gaze searches for an entrance, for any way to access the mountain. Your grandpa had long ago told you about the dark caves dragons resided in. “They’re quite tricky to find, not something you would just stumble upon. — A dragon’s nest is its most treasured place.” That’s what he’d said. 

You knew to look for small, almost unnoticeable anomalies. Something that any other bypasser would mistake for nature's misfortune. A twisted branch, a cracked stone.. The cold wind hurls against you, making an almost ear piercing screeching noise. You can no longer feel your face as you keep your gaze trained to the ground, intently looking for something, anything that would give way to an opening. 

But you come up short. There was nothing here. It felt like you’d been climbing this mountain for forever. It was never ending, everywhere you turned there was just snow upon snow upon snow. Every rock and every tree looked the same, perhaps you’d been walking in circles. What if you couldn’t find your way home, what if you were to freeze to death upon this quiet mountain, all alone and shivering as you take your last breaths.  

The lantern you had brought along had burned out, yet you clutched it tightly as you stumbled forward. With your head bowed and your desperate eyes seeking what you thought to be the impossible, you’re unable to foresee the snare that protrudes through the white snow, not until it’s too late. It catches around your wrist, causing you to yelp as you fall forward. 

It’s cold, it’s so cold that it burns. The hard ground caresses your tired body, the soil beneath welcoming you. With shaky hands you brace yourself against the mountain, daring to lift your head only an inch, wincing at the pain that throbbed within. “Ow..” You whine, clutching your temple as you screw your eyes shut. 

When you open them again is when you see it. At first you didn’t know whether to cry or to laugh. In disbelief your gaze flickers between the lily that was currently in full bloom, thriving in deep snow, and over to the opening presented before you. — Unbelievable. 

Excitement coursed through your veins as you scramble to your feet, eager to escape the menacing wind. It’s without thinking twice that you dart for the cave’s opening, throwing yourself inside with a relieved sigh. Your soft pants leave small clouds of cold in their wake, and you lean against the wet stone walls as you catch your breath. 

With wary eyes you survey your surroundings, taking in the endless pit of darkness that awaits you. The cave curved in a C-like shape, and the sounds of water quietly dropping from its ceiling fills the otherwise eerie silence. — It takes you a moment to re-light your lantern, but once you have, its warm glow manages to bring you at least some sense of comfort. 

Your hesitant footsteps bounce off the wet cavern walls as you delve deeper into the mountain. With your lantern held high, it guides you through the passages, an unexplainable tug at your chest urging you forward. Perhaps you should turn back, perhaps this had been a bad idea. After all, you did not know anything about dragons apart from what your grandfather had told you.— Was this really such a good idea? 

A turn to your left leads you onto an even darker path, and you feel a shiver crawl down your spine, sending a shockwave of nervosity through you. With a small gulp, you readjust your grip on the lantern, its light casting your face in yellow-ish hues. — So far there was not a single sign of any other living being, and you had been listening to nothing but your own shaky exhales for the past twenty minutes. 

Just when you had begun to consider retreat, did the tip of your shoe crash against something hard. Not being able to catch yourself in time, you stumble forward a second time that day. But this time, there’s no snow to catch you, and you hit the hard and cold cave floor with a loud crash. 

“Ow..” Your groan pierces the thick silence, and you wince as you grab ahold of your already pounding head. Not again you sigh. Everything hurt, your body felt sore and bruised, you could only imagine how you looked beneath all your layered clothes. 

Upon turning around, you find that what you had tripped over had been not a stone, not an overly large branch or any other of nature’s call. No, this was something entirely different… With squinting eyes you peer down at what appeared to be scales covering something the size of a smaller tree trunk. Confused you glance around in search of your lantern, it had slipped from your grasp during your fall. 

You find it a few feet away, gingerly shuffling over as you retrieve it. Thankfully the flames within were still alive and you cradled it close as you turned back to the strange scaled thing you had tripped over, only to find it gone. — Your heart catches in your throat, making your eyes widen and the lantern threatening to crash against the ground once more. 

A cold and harsh puff of air hits your back, hard. You gulp, slowly and carefully turning around as you clutch the lamp in trembling hands. Immediately your gaze falls on the exact same scales you’d seen just moments prior. White and smooth, perfectly covering four large legs, your attention fixates on the long and sharp claws on its feet. Then over to the almost translucent and magnificent looking wings, neatly tucked against its sides. 

Dread fills you when you realize that what you had tripped over had been its at least 10 ft long tail. With a gawking expression you watch as said tail curls around its body. In almost cinematic slow motion does your gaze shift toward its head, where sharp canines rested in its mouth. There was no doubt that this was exactly what you had come here looking for. 

“A dragon..” 

The words leave your lips before you can stop them. Your soft whisper of disbelief carrying out into the cold air. It looked stoic, yet far from the dragon's your grandfather had described. This was not the dark and fire-spitting beasts he’d told you about, this was… A wet droplet splashes against your cheek and you glance up to find icicles peering down at you from the ceiling, their pointy ends looking ready to pounce. 

A low huff brings your attention back to the creature before you, just in time to watch as it cracks an eye open. Its ice blue irises a stark contrast to the narrow slits of its pupils. This dragon did not hold the gaze of warmth and fire. — It held one of ice cold death. 

You stumble backward on trembling legs. The wet and hard cave wall feels like daggers against your back when you crash against it. Your breath comes out in jagged pants, your heart beating through your chest as you realize the dangers of your situation. The plan had been to watch them from afar, to silently slip away as if nothing had happened when you had gotten what you’d come here for. The plan did however, not include coming face to face with one of them. To become trapped within the cold and eerie darkness of these caves with the very beings that ruled them. 

With fear in your eyes, you watch as the dragon rises to its feet. Cold blue eyes locked on your small figure as you stay pressed against the wall, cowering before it. The sounds of its heavy steps echo between the icicles hanging from the ceiling, it makes the floor shake and rocks move as it slowly makes its way closer. 

You can feel its chilly breath all over you, freezing your already damp and shivering body tenfold. You screw your eyes shut as you turn your head away, preparing yourself for the fate inevitably to come. — Stupid, stupid, stupid girl. You should’ve listened to your aunt. You had been a fool to believe your old grandpa. You should have never come here and you should have never woken this beast. 

But the sharp and soaring pain of its large canines never came. And when what feels like an eternity has passed, you finally dare crack an eye open. Your vision is clouded by blues and whites, its nose hovering inches from your face. You couldn’t understand why it hadn’t made another move to attack you, to snap your frail body in half and rid itself of your invading presence. 

The dragon only watches you, the slow waves of cold air washing over you when it exhales. You swallow, gaze drifting down its long and majestic body as you wait for death to come. It is then you realize that something was wrong. There, tarnishing the translucent hue of its large wing is a large and ugly crack. Dark crimson spills from it in dramatic fashion as it taints the dragon’s shattered wing. 

It was hurt. 

A pang of sympathy washes over you at the sight. The frantic beating of your heart faltering for a short moment as you exhale the sigh you’d been holding in. The dragon seems to notice where your attention lays and immediately covers itself up by tucking its wing to its side. — A low, predatory sound builds in its chest, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise as you will down a gulp. 

It pulls back, and for a second you think it might retreat. But instead it opens its terrifyingly large jaw, presenting you with rows upon rows of teeth sharp as swords. You want to scream, but the dragon beats you to it as it lets out an ear piercing roar. — It makes the icicles above you shatter, their splinters flying everywhere. Even the walls tremble under the powerful sound and you find yourself darting for the exit without a second thought. 

The sound continues to plague you as you run through the murky and long cavern walls, fighting your way through the maze you had once entered with curiosity and hope. Now you claw onto the desperate feeling of life, with tears streaming down your cheeks and your heart in your throat. 

It’s not until light presents itself and you catch the sun on your face that you breathe out. Your lungs burn, your legs ache and your head pounds. The snow feels warm and inviting, and your knees sink to the ground as you plummet toward it. — One glance behind your shoulder shows the entrance gone once more, and you sigh, whether it was in relief or not, you can’t tell. 

But as you make your way home that day, you can’t help but think of the dragon up in the mountain, and the large wound on its side. 

𓍼ོ 

Your grandpa accompanies you as you prepare dinner that night. Your aunt Fiona was out gathering wild berries and fruits along with your younger cousins, and so the kitchen had become a peacefully quiet and inviting space. The air is warm, the steam coming from the hot stew cooking over the small fire, caressing your face. 

Perched on his stool by the high end of the table, your grandfather watches as you prepare plates and spoons for the family. His expression is calm, serene even. He doesn’t look as exhausted today, and you’re glad. These quiet and tender moments with him were ones that you cherished, for you didn’t know how many you had left. 

Yet you can’t help your mind from wandering toward the mountain on the other side of the forest. Your thoughts are plagued by the lonesome creature hidden within the stone. “Grandpa…” Your fingers drum against the rim of the glass you were wiping down, a small frown tugging across your brows. 

The old man hums as he shifts his gaze over to where you’re standing, obviously waiting for you to continue. It’s just… You don’t know how to. With a small, almost inaudible sigh you set the glass down. “Did you ever.. I mean was there ever such a thing as… ice dragons?” — The question catches him off guard, sure your old man was used to your inquiries about both the dragons and his past life. But something like this had never been brought up. 

“Ice dragons?” He echoes, and you think you catch a flicker of intrigue behind his otherwise pale eyes. “Where have you heard about those?” He then murmurs as he attempts to sit a little straighter. You immediately rush to his side as you place an arm around him, “Careful.” But your grandfather only swats your helping hands away as he stifles a cough. 

You purse your lips, but keep a steady grip on his shoulder as you hand him a glass of water. “I’ve just… Been doing a bit of research, and I stumbled across the topic.” You bite the inside of your cheek before adding, “There was hardly anything documented, so I was hoping you knew more..” 

Your grandpa hums, the sound long and drawn out as he takes a sip of his water. “Well of course there’s nothing documented, ice dragons have been extinct for centuries.” He says it so calmly, like it was the most casual thing in the world. But it wasn’t. You had just seen one, you were sure you had seen one. 

Images of the dragon up in the mountains flash before you. The blue and white scales, its frosty breath, its icy and penetrating gaze. But that would be impossible then.. It shouldn’t exist if they were extinct. — “Are you sure?” 

With a small scoff, your grandfather sets his glass down. “What kind of question is that?” He quirks a bushy brow, his expression gauging as he studies you closely. “If there was as much as a single ice dragon left, I would be sure to know of it”, he states with a huff. You did not want to argue over the matter any further, and thus kept your silence as you continued setting the table. 

Perhaps it had been a flicker of your imagination. The cave had, after all, been dark. It was possible that what you thought was real could have been all but an illusion. — But the ice cold shiver that ran down your spine as you recall its cold breath on your skin was most real. You think of the blood, of the large wound slashed across its side. How defensive it had gotten when it caught your gaze lingering. 

You pitied the being. What awful it must be to feel pain like that. 

“Why do you want to know about ice dragons?” The hoarse voice of your grandfather pierces the warm air and you turn to him with a small almost helpless smile. “I don’t know… Curiosity I suppose. ” You mumble, choosing to not bring up the day’s events in front of your old man. Your grandpa nods, his face looks sunken as his eyes drop to his empty plate. 

Outside, you can hear the faint noise of your aunt and younger cousins as they approach the small cottage. “Curiosity will get you far”, your grandpa agrees, though his voice sounds almost solemn now. — “But we should not let our thoughts linger in the past.” 

𓍼ོ

You find yourself setting out early in the morning that follows as well. But this time, you’ve brought more than a small lantern. The bag you carry is heavy on your back, making each step up the steep and snowy mountain twice the labour. Yet you persist, stubbornly trudging through the thick snow that reaches all the way to your knees. 

The cold and harsh winds make for a narrow view as you squint against them. Your nose has lost all its feeling, and you’re certain that you’re developing frostbite on parts of your body. Frantically you search for the tiny lily. You had tried your best to retrace yesterday’s steps, wantonly stumbling back and forth as you scour the ocean of bright white. 

“Where is it… Where is it..” Your lips are numb, your tongue feels way too big for your mouth and your words come out slurred. Never in your life had you been this cold before, and only God knows how much longer you’ll be able to carry on forward. 

But then you see it, its bright pink hues lighting up your world like fireworks in the night sky. And just a few feet away, the familiar entrance presents itself. — Despite your better judgement you had returned. Pity, that’s what you told yourself. Pity and empathy, that’s what you felt for the lonely dragon. It was why you had come here, with the intention of helping, as best as you could. It would’ve been what your grandfather would have wanted. 

Guilt weighs you down. It weighs heavier than the large bag on your shoulders. This secret you kept, it was bound to kill you. But such a thought seems small in comparison to the large cave that awaits you. — One final harsh thrust of the wind wins you over as you hurry inside, desperate to get out of its claws, even if it means finding yourself in the grasp of another. 

The maze-like system that was the dark and wet cave is strangely familiar, even though it shouldn’t be. Your feet move on their own, carrying you through the long and narrow labyrinth. For each step you take, your heart beats a little faster. Fear and anticipation courses through you. — Scared as you may be, but this time you had come prepared. This time you knew what waited around the corner, and as you made a final turn to the left, you exhaled. 

It’s dark, but now you know to watch where you place your feet. You’re silent, moving carefully through the cold air. Your lantern casts the cave in a warm and yellow glow, a stark contrast to the murky greys surrounding you. The icicles are sending gentle droplets of water down your way, one by one they splash against your cheek, the soft noise filling the open space. 

You had expected it to be there, you had tried to imagine it over and over for the past day. But the large dragon still catches you by surprise when your gaze falls upon it. Hurled up by one of the rocky and uneven walls, its large wings folded over what you presumed to be its wounded side. Its chest rises and falls with each slow breath it takes, the dragon appears to be in a calm slumber. Cold puffs of air shoots through its flared nostrils, the condensation vanishing in the darkness. 

It takes but one misstep on your part, the sound of rocks being crushed beneath the sole of your shoe echoing out into the silence. The disturbance wakes the sleeping dragon, and you find your gaze glued to its icy eyes as they snap open. Naturally, you expect for it to come lunging at you, just like it had the day before.  

But the dragon remains oddly still, slowly exhaling yet another wind off freezing air as it watches you with an almost expectant glint. It was impossible to read the creature, no matter how hard you tried. Your grandfather’s stories only did so much, and it was admittedly far different to come face to face with one on your own. 

“Hi.”

The greeting comes without you even thinking twice, it’s quiet, soft and timid. You’re surprised by your own rush of calmness at its semblance of indifference. For some reason, you did not feel threatened by the dragon today.

With slow and gentle movements, you let the bag slip from your shoulders, placing it down on the hard stone surface beneath you as you begin rummaging through it. You had not known what to bring along, for anything involving medicine was far from your expertise. The moss you’d brought from just within the forest line was thick and wet, but you vividly remember your aunt dressing your scraped knees in such. 

Gauze was sacred, you had to venture all the way to the kingdom in order to acquire some. It was why you had taken as little as you could from your aunt’s medicine cabinet, hoping and praying that she wouldn’t be able to tell. — It wasn’t much, but it was something. 

You feel the dragon's intense gaze on you as your trembling hands undo the roll of gauze, you wondered if it’d be enough to even go around its large body once. It was worth the shot. — You stand up straight, clearing your throat as you draw in a short breath. “I uh, I’m here to help you..” You give the dragon an awkward smile. It was impossible to know if it could understand you or not, but judging by the way its gaze narrowed at your words, you would guess it did. 

It’s okay, you tell yourself, gripping the supplies in your hands tighter. You take a hesitant step forward, gauging its reaction as you keep your eyes on its head. But the dragon remains unmoving. Alright. Three more steps. Still good. — It’s not until you reach its side, your outstretched fingers reaching for the shattered wing, that the dragon flinches. 

A low, menacing growl builds in its chest. The sound makes you falter, your eyes widening as you swallow the shriek about to escape your lips. “I…” Your mouth opens and closes repeatedly as your heart hammers in your chest. Had you taken it too far? Your intentions were pure, sure, but could this beast see that? 

“I mean no harm…” You say as you let the moss and gauze drop to the ground, presenting your now empty hands before the dragon. The creature watches you with pupils that are narrowed into slits, clearly untrusting of your ways, but makes no move to snap you in half. — It meant something, at least so you thought. 

Your attention slowly returns to the pale wing pressing against its side. If only you could get a closer look. Your palm graces the smooth and cold scales, fascinated by the foreign texture. But the action is almost immediately met by a harsh snarl from the dragon as its large head jerks your way. 

Its breath is just as freezing as you’d remembered it, coming out in harsh puffs against your already shivering body. You’re so close that if you leaned forward as much as an inch, your foreheads would meet. — Your gulp is painfully audible inside the dark gave and you fumble for words. 

“Y-You’re hurt…” Your shaky finger points in the direction of its wing and the dragon follows your direction. You watch in slight bewilderment as it flexes the broken wing. The wound looked harsh and deep, you were sure it restricted most of its movements, not to mention causing it great pain. 

The dragon makes a small noise that sounds almost like a human grunt. The sound catches you off guard and you turn back just in time to catch its head shifting forward again, its attention seemingly fixed on something far away. It looked almost… defeated. You wondered for how long it’d been isolated up here, how many sleepless and painful nights it would’ve had to endure. 

When it doesn’t make a second attempt to snap you in half, you take it as your sign to move forward. A brief inspection of the long cut helps you determine that it would probably not need any stitches. Said discovery relieved you as you had little clue of how to work both needle and thread, especially on dragon scales. 

You pick at the moss you’d previously discarded, bunching the wet plant up in your hands as you sought a suitable approach. It would’ve been easier had this dragon been slightly smaller, or you slightly bigger. — Nonetheless you give it your best shot. The dragon hisses when you press the cold moss against the crimson cut, but you try your hardest to ignore the way it tenses beneath your touch, praying and hoping that it would remain as still as it had up until now. 

Once the thick layer of moss is in place, your foot blindly reaches for the gauze as you roll it over. With the help of your teeth, and a lot of effort as your arms fought to keep the earthy moss in place, you managed to throw the small roll over its wing, only to catch it as it came down on the other side.

The process was tedious, and due to the size of the wound, it required you to repeat your original move a multitude of times. You work quietly, biting your lip in concentration as sweat pooled on your forehead. To try and get your mind off of the situation and task at hand, you try to figure out just what could’ve caused an injury like this. 

Had the dragon taken a fall? Gotten in a fight with another of its species, or even worse, a completely different creature? You were no fool, and you knew that dragons were far from the only spirits that roamed this forsaken island. There were beings far more dangerous than a pair of claws and a large jaw. The thought alone made you shiver. 

A loud thud snaps your attention to your left, your heart leaping out of your chest. But the terror subsided just as it had surfaced when your gaze fell on the dragon's head, resting atop the cold and hard cave floor in an exhausted manner. It exhales, the condensated cold air blowing from its nostrils like smoke out of a chimney.  

It was impossible not to pity the lonely creature, and you feel your stomach twisting as you watch its defeated expression. There was much you wanted to ask, things you longed to know. For now, you were content with not getting torn in half as you tended to the crack on its wing. It was enough, you tell yourself. 

Once you're done, you take a step back to inspect your work. It looked… messy. The gauze was wrapped in uneven layers, with moss peeking through here and there. An amateur's job, that much was evident. But the dragon doesn’t seem to mind, for it spares no more than a quick glance toward the now dressed wound. Instead, its cold and harsh gaze lingers on your fidgety frame as you debate your next move.

Your eyes dart around the dark cave, lingering on its sharp and rough edges. You wondered how uncomfortable it must be to live like that. The lack of sunlight, the lack of warmth.. Not that this dragon seemed to need it. — But there was really nothing here. And as you fetch your lantern once more, throwing the now empty bag over your shoulder, you turn to meet the dragon’s icy gaze. 

“I’ll be back”, you say, and though it did not reply, you caught the faint shimmer of its once tired eyes. 

𓍼ོ

You return to that same dark and cold cave for many days to come. As time passed, you found yourself growing all the more comfortable in the dragon’s ever looming presence. You would bring fresh moss, making sure to check on the wound as best as you could. — And though your bag weighs half a ton, you still managed to bring some nutrients all the way up the mountain. 

“Here”, you had said as you threw the bag on the stone floor. The dragon had given you a small glance, its expression appearing almost judgemental before its gaze had flickered to the fish you’d brought along. — “Why come on, you must be hungry.” You motioned toward the fresh meat, feeling rather proud of the accomplishment. The dragon had let out a huff, blowing a cold puff of air your way before begrudgingly indulging in the food. 

Conversation was difficult to make. You often talked to yourself, thinking out loud as you rambled on about whatever topic came to mind. Sometimes you didn’t speak at all, instead choosing to let a comfortable silence envelop the two of you. You did not know if the dragon enjoyed your company, perhaps it only put up with you because it had too little strength to snap you in half. 

Yet the creature continued to occupy your thoughts. Its almost translucent wings, the pale scales covering its body, the sharp pair of icy eyes. One day you’d brought a small notebook along. Using a piece of charcoal, you sat perched against the opposite wall as you drew the dragon to the best of your abilities. You found it to be a great excuse to watch it for long periods of time rather than stealing subtle glances. 

Truth was that no matter how many times your eyes fell on the dragon, you still found it hard to believe just what you were seeing. Suddenly your grandfather’s stories all made sense. The suspense and thrill of the dragons. The dangers and the courage it took. You understood why he enjoyed talking about them so much, you could feel his passion as you sat in silence with something so sacred. 

But for each day that passed, the large gash on its side lessened in both size and severity. You wondered how much time you had left before it eventually spread its wings and took off. The thought plagued you more than you’d like to admit… 

The morning is crisp, the moist and warm summer air had yet to fall over the small cottage you resided in. Just like any other morning you’re up and about, quietly shuffling throughout the tiny space as you pack today’s essentials. You were thinking of bringing along a book, perhaps you would read out loud to the dragon, any form of entertainment would surely brighten its mood. 

Your eyes roam the crowded bookshelves, stuffed with literature of all kinds. From herbal tea recipes to novels and history books. The pad of your finger stops atop one of the shorter pieces, something you’d easily be able to finish within the day or the next. But before you can as much as pull it from its spot, squeezed between two thick history books, the sound of a floorboard creaking startles you. 

“It’s a little early to be up reading.” Your aunt Fiona sounds like she’s just caught a thief in the midst of its burglary. And when you turn to face her, you find a satisfied smirk stretched across her thin lips. — “I…” Your words fall short, your throat suddenly thick with a fear you couldn’t quite place. “Well I was just-” 

“You know I’ve noticed you sneaking around lately.” Fiona takes a step forward, and you start to wonder if she’d perhaps gotten up early solely with the intention of catching you. Her eyes gleam with satisfaction when they land on the book you had been reaching for just moments ago. — “Gone all day without as much as a word, you worry you old grandpa.” 

Your aunt would often use your grandfather as a pressure point, knowing that the mention of him would get you to crack. She takes another two steps forward, stopping a mere feet away. “Perhaps you’re trying to get out of your chores”, she nods toward the garden outside, even though it had been left unattended for a mere week. 

You shake your head, immediately trying to deny the accusations she was pinning on you. “It’s not-” — “Then what?” Fiona cuts you short, her voice snappy as her face twists into a small grimace. “What could be keeping you from your frail and old grandpa?” She had a point, and the fact that she did was a bitter thought indeed. You should be spending more time with your grandfather, you should be helping your aunt around the house, there are a lot of things you should be doing. 

The sound of your swallow is painstakingly loud, shattering through the brief silence. “I know…” You bow your head, shame trapping your will to go see the dragon up in the mountain. “I’m sorry.” 

Fiona seems satisfied with your answer. She purses her lips, humming to herself as she eyes the bag flung over your shoulder. “Leave it here”, she points to the sofa on your right, “You won’t be needing it for now.” — Reluctantly you do as she says, letting it drop to the soft cushion before turning to your aunt with disappointment surely written across your face. If she catches it, she doesn’t bother to acknowledge it. Part of you is relieved that she seems to have little interest in prying further. 

“The garden needs tending to”, she states before turning on her heel and heading for the stairs, likely with the intention of waking your cousins. But as she reaches the first step, she throws a glance over her shoulder, her sharp gaze landing on your still unmoving frame. Her eyes narrow, “And don’t even think about leaving the house until you’re finished.” 

You could understand your aunt’s reasoning. Raising three children and taking care of her sick dad would surely take its toll on anyone. Fiona was strong, a lot stronger than most people seemed to think. Usually you did not mind helping her, for it made you feel useful. — But today your heart yearns to be elsewhere. You find yourself glancing toward the mountain, your thoughts occupied by the pale dragon, the image of its icy gaze burned into your mind. 

Because of that you find yourself hurrying through your tasks. Your fingers pull carrots from the moist soil, they pick basil from the fresh plants and pluck ripe apples from the old apple tree that leans to the right. Sweat dribbles down your forehead, and you mindlessly wipe it with the back of your hand as you carry on forward. 

The work felt tedious today, and you stole peeks at the kitchen window, trying to catch a glimpse of your aunt as she moved about the house. When finally, after what felt like decades, your basket is filled to the brim with fresh nutrients, and the plants had all been watered and tended to, you return inside. 

Setting the heavy bag down on the kitchen table, you look for Fiona, but she’s nowhere to be found. Your eyes drift toward the living room, lingering on the book you’d reached for that morning. You had done your chores for the day, so there was technically no harm in sneaking away, if only for a few hours. 

𓍼ོ 

Your way up the steep mountain feels lighter that afternoon. Your steps have a slight skip to them as you bounce forward. Nothing seemed to weigh you down, not even the full on scolding that you might receive from your aunt upon your arrival back home. 

By now you find the lily with ease, its familiar and bright pink hue standing out perfectly among the clear and white snow. You’re excited, giddy even. The thought of spending time with the grumpy dragon brought you a kind of joy that should definitely concern you, and had you been any wiser, you probably wouldn’t have entered the cave that afternoon. 

It was even colder than last time, yet the air was still, not a single gush of air hurling your way. You creep forward, without getting lost, because you’d acquainted yourself with the layout of the maze-like mountain. Now every twist and turn felt like a familiar face, one you’d seen so many times before and would always remember with a nostalgic smile. 

You enter the opening that leads into what you had begun to call ‘the dragon’s nest’. The name was quite silly, but you didn’t mind since you were the only one to use it. But a frown quickly finds its way to your face as you regard the empty space. — The dragon was nowhere to be seen. Confused, you take another couple of steps forward, instinctively calling out for it, “Hello?” 

There was, of course, no answer. You didn’t know what you had expected to come out of the simple greeting anyway. Rocking back and forth on the sole of your shoes, your mind rakes with different possibilities of what could have happened. Had it taken off? Maybe someone had found it, even worse, killed it. 

No, that couldn’t be right. 

Then you spot it, light. That was new, for the cave had been nothing but a room of complete darkness, ever since you first stepped foot here. Eager, you approach the source, forgetting all about your lantern as you discard it on the floor. Due to your previous visits being spent in such dim light, you had never noticed that the cave curled in on itself, leading even deeper than you’d originally thought. 

The squeeze to get through however, was tight. There was no way a dragon would be able to fit through here. Rough and cold stone scrapes against your chest and back as you push yourself between the rocks, determined to find your way to the other side, to the light. — With a heavy sigh you finally stumble free, bracing your hands on your knees as you allow yourself to catch your breath. 

When you glance up you realize that what you had stepped into was an even bigger part of the cave. But this one was basked in the warm rays of the sun. You’re almost blinded by the bright light, and you shield your eyes with your arm. Half the cave opened up and out into the sky. From here, the snowy mountains looked absolutely breathtaking. 

And as you regard the snow coated treetops, the way the sun reflected off the white surfaces, it suddenly hit that you had never actually stopped to admire your surroundings. Each day had been a battle to the top, never once had you taken a break to glance around, to appreciate nature in its truest and rawest form. 

But your moment of serenity is quickly broken by the sound of what you assumed to be a rock rolling across the cavern floors, the noise ripping you from your trance. You spin around, eyes wide as you try to locate its source, all to no avail. This part of the cave seemed just as empty as the last and the frown on your face only grew. 

The dragon was really gone. 

Then, just as you’re about to turn back, all air was knocked out of your lungs. The first thing you feel is pain, sharp and flaring through your body when your back is slammed against the cave wall. Your scream never makes it past your lips. And suddenly, the light that had previously enveloped you whole, was gone, shielded by something – by someone. 

Your jaw hangs slack, the same terror you had felt on your first encounter with the dragon returning. It takes a moment for your flimmering eyes to adjust, but when they do you finally see the man before you. His face is dark, clouded by rage. The almost pitch black hair on his head falls in front of his eyes but you can hardly focus on his complexion, much too aware of the large hand he had wrapped around your throat. 

Your breath hitches, a faint and helpless gasp escaping your open mouth. Who was he? Why was he here… How did he know about this place? — But then your gaze falls on his naked chest, there, covered in gauze and moss, the very same gauze and moss you had so carefully wrapped around its once large wing.

Finally, you catch a glimpse of his eyes. They’re dark and gloomy, but they’re familiar. As they narrow on you, there’s an undeniable hint of blue, shining within their irises depths – an icy and cold blue. 

You realize then that the man before you was the dragon himself. 

“I…” Desperately your fingers claw at his hand, trying to pry him off of you. The urge to speak is strong, but his vice-like grip overpowers it. His chest heaves, his breaths coming in ragged and rough, his hand around your throat tightening with deadly force. — “Why did you come back?” It’s the first time he utters as much as a word. It sounds strained, as though he’d gone years in silence. 

When he finally releases his hold on your neck you fall forward, clutching at your throat whilst gasping for air. He watches you soundlessly, his expression twisted into a scowl. “W-What..?” You finally manage to croak out, feeling as though your wobbly knees were about to give out any second now. 

The man scoffs, his fist connects with the cave wall next to you and the stones crack under his knuckles. “You should not have come here”, he barks, fury radiating off of him. “You do not belong here, human.” 

He says the term with such distaste, making it sound derogatory. Perhaps it was. Yet you couldn’t seem to wrap your head around it. This was the very same dragon you’d been tending to for almost a whole week now. The creature in which you’d poured your love and affection onto, carefully building what you thought to be a relationship based on trust. 

But as he stands before you in his human form, you hardly recognize him. 

The man takes a step back, leaving you to exhale in relief. He turns away from you, as if trying to disregard your presence completely. You watch as he approaches the edge of the cave, where the bright sky meets the dark mountain. — Even with his back turned, you could tell that he was beautiful, breathtaking. 

“I don’t understand…” Your quiet whisper seems to echo, a sound that you should be used to by now. Still, you can’t help but cower at the intensity of your words. The drag- man, does not turn to look behind him, does not spare you as much as a single glance. “It is not for you to understand”, he firmly states, his tone holding a bitter and resentful edge. 

You shake your head, “I helped you-” — “You humiliated me.” He’s looking at you now, his cold gaze reaching you from across the cave. Your stomach drops at the statement. Have you done something wrong? You thought you were helping… “You degraded me by putting your filthy human hands on me.” He spits the words out, his voice laced with a venom so poisonous that it sunk into your veins. 

“You were hurt-” 

“I would have been fine”, he snaps. You feel frozen under his stare, unable to move as you shrink against the cave wall. He glances toward the bandage around his chest, the traces of what you had thought to be a gesture of kindness and empathy was something he regarded with hatred. It hurt. His jaw clenches, his hands curling into fists by his side. 

“You should leave.” 

Your blood ran cold at that and your lips part, an objection ready on your tongue. But he’s quick to realize that you won’t budge. With a small grunt he turns his back on you a second time, as he does, you catch a glimpse of the many scars slashed across his skin. They were a bright white, appearing healed though it seemed not even time could make them fade completely.

Before you can get another word out, before you can reach for him – he leaps off the edge. A terrified scream leaves your lips, and you slap a hand across your open mouth in shock. For a second you thought that he might have actually taken his own life, right before your very eyes. Everything is silent at that moment, and you do not dare move. 

The sound of wings, slapping against the cold air is what gives you new hope. You see him, the pale blues easily giving him away as he pierces through the clouds, riding out the hurling winds. Your heart aches at the sight, for reasons unbeknownst to you, reasons you don’t think you wanted to get to the bottom of. 

Suppose you would miss him, the lonely dragon. 

𓍼ོ

Days passed. Days that would soon turn into weeks. The reality of your otherwise mundane life slowly sunk in, like fog easing its way from the ground after a rainy day. Only there was no sun to greet you after such gloomy weather. Your life seemed bleak these days. You did not know if that had to do with the absence of the dragon, whose name you never got, or your grandfather, whose health was declining each day. 

Your days had shifted, and you no longer spent as much time in the garden. Hours upon hours were passed in the presence of your grandpa. His hand in yours as your thumbs caress his old and wrinkled skin. — He would cough a lot, and you could tell that it his condition was starting to wear him out. Regardless of that, he continued to drag on his long stories about the dragons, only with slightly less action. 

Because even his stoires had found new attention. 

“You know, they were actually quite crafty too.” Your grandpa’s voice is hoarse, and sometimes you need to strain your ears in order to hear him. Nevertheless, you sit by his rockingchair as he inistied on not spending his entire days bedridden. A blanket is placed over his lap, for he easily got cold these days, despite it being late summer still. 

“The dragons?” You ask, to which your grandfather nods. “Ineed, in their human form of course. - And they were quite talkative too”, he recalls with a smile on his lips. You wanted to disagree on the matter, for the ice dragon you met had been anything but friendly. You thought you could still remember the glare he’d sent you, one that had stung through flesh and bone.

Your grandpa is attacked by another fit of coughs, and you help as best as you can by gently patting his back. “They sound lovely”, you murmur when readjusting the blanket over his legs. He gives your hand a thankful squeeze, humming in agreement. — “They are. Oh how I wish you should have known the gentle ways of a dragon, I think you would like it.” 

He remains silent for a brief moment, his tired eyes lingering on the open window. The soft and warm summer breeze occasionally brushed past, sending a refreshing wave of air your way. Outside your younger cousins play, their screams of both joy and youth bounce off the trees. “Even my daughter might come to terms with it, had she just given them a chance.” 

Something in the warm summer air shifted then, a darker cloud pulling over the otherwise clear sky. For long you had avoided the subject, danced around it because you were afraid, not of asking, but for receiving an answer. Still, your curiosity could not be contained, and as you witness your grandfather in his final moments, you realize that there might not be another oppurtitny for you to ask. 

You clear your throat, shifting on your own chair as your hands remained clasped around your grandpa’s. “Say… What happened with my great grandfather?” You present the questions calmly, yet you avoid his eyes, your attention fixed on your intertwined fingers. — With a wheeze-like inhale, your grandpa sighs. 

“You have not asked about him before”, he states and you can feel the slight tremble to his hands as they rest in your own. “No”, you say, “I haven’t.” You knew that avoiding this could not go on for forever, he knew it too. Your grandfather nods, taking another deep breath that seemed to cost a lot of effort. 

“My father was a fearless man..” He begins telling it like he would any other story, but there’s a definite melancholic edge to his tone. “He was the closest our family ever got to the dragons”, he pauses, eyes flickering to met yours for a brief second, “Some even speculate that he fell in love with one of them.” 

Your jaw slacks at that, the surprise evident on your face. “In love?” You echo, to which your grandfather chuckles. “She was a most beautiful woman, a man would be stupid not to recognize such, and my father was far from stupid.” He leans back in his rocking hair, it makes a creaking noise beneath his weight as it shifts backward every so slightly. 

“They did spend a great deal of time together, much so that it worried the others.” — “Days could pass without my father returning from the mountains once. It’s quite confusing for a young boy such as myself to be left with his absence. - But I knew then, that my father’s love for the dragons was something I should aspire for myself.” 

He made it sound beautiful, a lot more than it should have been. This was no fairytale for its ending was most gruesome. You knew that without having to ask. And with a heavy sigh, one that made his chest puff out before it shrunk again, your grandpa seems to come to terms with how the story had ended. 

“Despite their love she still carried the deadly traits of the dragon. - But his death was never her fault.” Your grandpa turns to you with a solemn smile, “That’s what he would have wanted me to say.” 

He doesn’t continue, even though you thought that he might. No, for once, your grandpa seems content with a shorter story, one that spoke for itself. Strangely enough it made you think of the dragon up in the mountain, he was not the same yet he was everything a dragon represented. He confused you, you told yourself that it was the reason he lingered in your mind, even when he shouldn’t. 

𓍼ོ

Ingredients for your grandfather’s medicine were of best produce if you harvested them yourself. Your aunt Fiona had therefore urged you out the house that morning, making you embark on a rather long walk as you searched for the plant she desired. It was of magical properties supposedly, and therefore it grew only under magical conditions. 

Lunarspore, or something along those lines was what it was called. A small, purple mushroom that thrived best in the murky waters of warm lagoons. Such a place did indeed exist on the island of Aethera, and as all humans, you knew its dangers. — Mushrooms weren’t the only thing that fed off of the almost glowing water. Beneath the surface lurked creatures far beyond any will of good. 

Your feet come to a halt by the edge of the lake, your eyes narrowed as they peered across the thicker layer of fog that coated the misty surface. An uneasy feeling bubbles within your stomach, but you don’t turn back around despite your gut instinct screaming for you to do just that. Instead, you crouch down by the water, gaze searching for the round and plump mushroom. 

It takes a while, but soon enough you stumble across one. With a relieved exhale you reach for the small knife stashed in your belt, flicking it in your open palm before reaching out to snag tha plant. You’re disappointed by its size, you would have expected them to be bigger. “This thing would barely last us a week..” You mutter as you begin searching for another one straight away. 

To your surprise you find a second mushroom almost immediately. But to your dismay it was further out in the lagoon. You hesitate, gaze flickering between the safety of land and the need for the mushroom ahead. These waters scared you, and you did not want to wade out further than absolutely necessary. — In the end your desire to help your sick grandfather wins you over. With one tug, you pull your dress above your knees as you begin your descent into the lagoon. 

For each step you take forward the water seems to get warmer. A strange and almost calm feeling washes over you, it puts you at ease, even as your mind yells for you to turn back. You ignore the strange sensations and keep your eyes set on the target ahead. Finally, as you reach the mushroom, you reach for it, but before the blade of your knife can slice it from its roots, a quiet whisper pulls your attention to the left. 

Nothing but still and purple water fills your vision, yet you can’t shake the feeling that you weren’t alone. Something, someone, was there with you, lurking and stalking where your weak human eyes couldn’t see. The whisper is soft, it sounds almost like a melody, a sweet and enticing tune. You know you shouldn’t listen, you should scream for its silence and beg for your life. 

But you can’t help but fall under its trance. 

The water moves, gentle waves brushing against your naked legs. Your dress falls from the now loose grasp of your fingers, the cotton immediately being soaked up by the lagoon. The mushroom is long forgotten and the knife threatens to slip from your hands. 

You see it now, long and flowy hair reaching the surface, its arms outstretched as it approaches. But you do not feel fear, in fact your whole body is calm, frozen in place as you watch the siren approach. You knew what was coming yet you couldn’t find it in you to lift as much as a finger in order to stop it. 

Its wet and long fingers lock around your wrist, slowly tugging you toward the murky water. Its song rings clear in your ears now, but you cannot make out as much as a single word. You allow yourself to be pulled, the water is warm and inviting, enveloping you whole. For a moment you forget about everything, nothing exists and time is not real. 

But then, just as your head was about to submerge under the surface, something hard and sharp hits you across the stomach. You’re lunged backward, snatched from the siren’s gentle but firm grip and hurled into the sky. At first, you’re too dazed to even realize what had just happened, but when your vision finally clears, and you behold the ground so far beneath you, is when you scream. 

Everything was moving at an alarming speed, the wind whistling in your ears, the sound followed by that of winds slapping against the air. You glance up only to be met by the very same dragon you thought you had seen for the last time. He’s looking straight ahead, clearly unbothered by your terror as you squirm in the gras of his long claws. 

If he let go now, you would fall to your immediate death, reduced to nothing more but a pile of shattered limbs as you melt against the ground. The thought scared the living daylights out of you and you stop fighting and instead cling onto him with all your might. 

You’re… confused. Why was he here? After your last encounter you’d been certain that you were to never cross paths again. Yet here he was, not only that… He’d saved you. You dare another glance down, beneath you your surroundings are changing quickly. From up here they all seemed small and insignificant, even the lagoon which you had almost fallen victim to. 

Your eyes shift toward the dragon, watching as his now healed wings tore through the sky, carrying you to a destination still unknown. You swallow, feeling at loss for words. His hold on you was firm, but it didn’t hurt but you felt pathetically weak squeezed between his claws. — The questions of why and how continue to run through your jumble of thoughts, even when the snowy mountain comes into vision. 

Up here, the mountain seems a lot smaller, lesser. Fog covers the bottom half of it, making it impossible to even get a peek of the ground itself. He aims for an opening, one so familiar that your stomach dropped all the way to your toes. You knew exactly where he was taking you now. 

He slows down, large wings twisting in the air as he comes to an almost abrupt halt. You shriek when the claws around you loose, making you slip from their hold. But the wet and cold cave floor isn’t far, and you land on wobbly feet with a small thud. The dragon quickly joins you, but the sound of him landing is not the loud and powerful noise you’re expecting, and when you turn around, you find him in human form again. 

He runs his fingers through his dark hair with a small shake off his head, it looked almost as though he was dusting himself off. Your eyes trail across his muscular frame, something you had barely allowed yourself to look at last time. Briefly you wonder why he always seemed to appear without a shirt or any garment to cover his chest, but when your gaze flickers over his toned stomach, you find that you did not mind. 

Dark yet cold and almost icy eyes flit over to you, and they narrow as he catches you staring. You blink, pulling your invading gaze from him as it jumps across the cave, one you had been in before, both of you. It’s then that reality slowly washes over you, you were here, with him, and he’d just saved you from a fate worse than death. There was only one thing to say. 

“Thank you.” 

You smile, hoping that the sincerity and your gratitude would show. But the man only frowns, his stoic features twisting into confusion as he watches you from the other side of the cave, a far and safe distance from you. “What for?” He grunts, the disbelief in his voice clear as day. 

With parted lips you find yourself mimicking his perplexed expression. “You saved me…” Because he did, right? But he only shakes his head, emitting a small scoff as his jaw clenches. “The siren, the lagoon, I was… I would be..” — “You would be dead”, he calmly states, the simplicity to his tone made you want to shiver. 

“I paid my end of the bargain”, he then says and for a moment you could not wrap your head around what he meant by that. Then it all came together. He was making amends for his broken wing, the one you had so carefully tended to, even without his compliance or permission.. Still he was willing to do the same for you, even if only to pay back the debt that seemed to weigh him down. 

“Now we no longer have any reason to see each other”, he states as a matter of factly. You can’t tell if he looks relieved or merely tired, or perhaps maybe just at peace. He turns from you, and you panic, worried that he was about to take off once more. You don’t think you could stand seeing him leave, not again. Truth was, you had grown quite attached to the dragon… Yet you knew so little about him. 

“You have yet to tell me your name.” It was the first question that came to mind. You bite your tongue, but when his eyes only narrow you quickly add, “You know mine.” It was true, you had told him your own name on your third or fourth encounter, for it had felt rude not to introduce yourself when tending to his wounds. 

He scoffs, averting his gaze as it roams the now pink sky, painted by the warm hues of the slowly setting sun. His cold skin looked raw under the orange rays, and you find yourself mesmerized by everything that is him. You had so many questions for him, so many answers you longed to hear. Was he really the last ice dragon? How did they all die, and why had he lived? 

Everything is silent for a minute, much so that you swore you heard the song of birds in the far distance. Then he exhales, a long and low breath. Without looking at you he says, “Taehyun.” 

“Taehyun is my name.” 

You instantly smile, practically beaming toward him. “That’s a beautiful name”, you hum. Taehyun snorts, giving a small roll of his eyes as he turns away from you to peer out over the sky. “There’s hardly anything beautiful about a dragon.” He says it so quietly, almost a whisper. It was probably never intended for your ears, but you hear it. 

Why did he loathe his own kind? How could he be ashamed of something so majestic as himself. It made no sense. — Your feet move on their own, slowly carrying you across the cave. You never stop to think, and Taehyun does not turn your way. Then, before you know it, you’re beside him. 

His skin is cold against your lips when you press a hesitant kiss to his cheek. His jaw twitches, and you feel his heavy gaze on you once you pull back. His dark brows are furrowed into a confused frown, but he doesn’t look angry. “It’s how we say thank you.” You smile in a way you hadn’t in ages. 

Taehyun watches you, his eyes studying your face intently, as if considering his next move carefully. “You humans are strange”, he mutters, but there’s an almost teasing edge to his tone, much different from his usual gloomy demeanor. “A good strange or a bad strange?” You ask as you nervously pull your bottom lip between your teeth. 

He shakes his head, turning to face your way and you suck in a sharp breath when you realize just how close you were standing. His expression is still hardened, as if stuck in a permanent frown. Within his dark irises swirl strings of cold blue, and they seemed to shimmer under the setting sun. 

You tense up when he suddenly moves even closer, his ice cold chest brushing against your flaring hot one. “Good”, he exhales, his cool breath slapping your across the face when he leans in to press his lips against yours. His kiss is not the same sweet and hesitant gesture you’d given, but it’s not rough either. It’s… him. 

A single shiver runs down your spine when his hand snakes to the back of your neck. It was so very different from when he’d had his fingers wrapped around it, squeezing with all his might. He touched you like you were made of porcelain, one push too far would make you shatter in his palm, and he would be unable to piece you back together. 

The kiss goes on for forever, time slows down until it ceases to exist. You want to watch him, drink in his almost serene expression. Yet your eyes flutter closed as you return the gesture. Never did you question why he did it, because that didn’t matter. He felt so perfect against you, as if he was made for you and you only. Perhaps in another universe he was, in a universe where you were just like him, and not a weak and frail human. 

He pulls back, lips parting only an inch from your own, his forehead resting against yours. He’s breathing softly, the tension washed from his face as he regards your flustered one. “That’s how we say thank you”, he murmurs. 

“Why are you thanking me?” You whisper, your wide eyes peering into his. Taehyun sighs, blinking slowly as he swallows. “I don’t know. Why are you thanking me?” — You smile, your shoulders slumping into a shrug. “I don’t know.” 

You saved him, and he saved you. A favor for a favor. You were no longer bound to the other yet it somehow felt like your heart was going to break into a million pieces if you let go now. Taehyun inhales slowly, his nostrils flaring when he does. “Can I kiss you again?” He wonders, and the question makes you almost delirious. 

“Yes.” You’re already pressing your lips against his, desperate to feel him on you once more. He smiles into the kiss, a gesture so warm and contrasting to the cold and freezing layer of ice covering him. — Your hands are on his naked chest, fingers splayed across the now healed scar. The soft groan he emits vibrates on your tongue, urging your bodies flush against one another. 

“You’re so warm”, he murmurs against your skin as his kisses move to your cheek and down your jaw. Your head falls back, the sunset basking the two of you in color, the world outside silently watching. — “You’re cold..” You whisper, your fingers intertwining in his dark hair regardless. 

Taehyun chuckles, a sound you’d never before heard him make, it made your heart flutter. “I am”, he hums, his own hands trailing down your sides, relishing in the way you shiver as you stubbornly cling to him. The cold could not deter you, it never had and it never would. For Taehyun’s heart held all the warmth you should ever need. 

The kiss ends for a split second in order for you to catch your breaths. Soft sounds of heavy panting fill the large cave, echoing off its dark and wet walls. You swallow, taking the moment to find your bearings as you gaze into his shimmering eyes. You knew then that he was someone you could trust, with your life if need be. It made your next move all the more obvious. 

As you brush a dark strand from his face, you exhale. “I… There’s someone I want you to meet.” 

𓍼ོ

“Careful”, you murmur as you lead your grandfather through the high grass. He coughs and tries to swat your hands away but you insist on keeping a firm hold around his shoulders. “There, there, don’t wear yourself out.” 

“Pfft-” Your grandpa scoffs, shaking his head as he trudges on forward. “I haven’t been out and about like this in weeks, I’ve saved plenty of energy for the occasion.” He assures you. But you could tell by his laboured breathing and trembling arms that he was tired. You would have felt bad bringing him out here, wasting his precious energy like that. — But today was different. 

“Why are we even out here anyways? You can hardly expect me to help harvest any herbs..” He mutters as his tired eyes flicker across the open meadow. It was calm, the late summer air basking the two of you in a warm glow. “No grandpa”, you smile as you pat his shoulder, “That’s not why we’re here.” 

Your old man hums, giving a small nod as you come to a stop in the middle of the opening. “I have seen grass before, dear.” He gives you a pointed look and you can’t help but giggle as you shake your head. “I know, you’ve seen what I’m about to show you before too… But I still think you’ll like it.” 

Your grandfather raises a brow your way, his lips parting as if to say something, but before he gets the chance to, the trees ahead rustle. The sound snaps both of your attention that way, and you manage to catch a glimpse of your grandpa’s curious eyes just as Taehyun emerges from the forestline. 

When you’d first asked him, the request felt pushy, perhaps a little too much, but to your greatest joy, he’d agreed. The white and blue scales on his skin shimmer in the sunlight, and his nearly translucent wings seem to sparkle when he moves closer. He looks magical, hauntingly beautiful. But you force your gaze away from him and over to your grandfather. 

He was watching Taehyun with a slack jaw, his eyes wide as sausages and you’re glad that you’re holding on to him when his legs buckle. “That..” He begins, his mouth dried up and his voice hoarse. He turns to you, as if in disbelief before quickly glancing back toward the dragon before him. “Is he real?” He quietly whispers and you bite back a giggle. 

“Of course”, you say as you take his hand in yours. “Do you want to get closer?” The question was hardly needed for your grandfather moves with both newfound strength and speed as he approaches Taehyun who’s standing a mere ten feet away. He stops only when the dragon’s cold breath caresses his old and wrinkly face, a smile unlike anything you’d seen before etching its way across his lips. 

“He’s real”, your grandpa states, and you swore you could see the happiness blooming in his heart. His gaze wanders across Taehyun’s blue scales, a small frown tugging on his brows. “He’s…” — “An ice dragon”, you nod, “They’re not extinct.” 

Taehyun makes a small sound that comes across as half a grunt, half a snort. Your grandfather doesn’t seem to mind, far too preoccupied with taking in the sight before him. “How?” He whispers as he reaches a trembling hand out to touch the very tip of Taehyun’s cold nose. The action is intimate, and it makes your heart swell.

You never give him an answer, you’re not sure what you could even say. All you knew was that you had made his final wish possible, nothing else could make you feel better. — He spends the entire day with Taehyun, and when he shifts into his human form the two converse for hours on end. You watch them, wordlessly admiring the two. From the way your grandpa’s face lit up whenever Taehyun spoke of his life, to the dragon himself when he listened to your grandfather’s stories. 

As the sun set you practically had to drag your old man home, promising that Taehyun would visit as soon as he had the chance. — Even though such a time never came. 

Your grandpa died that night, it was a peaceful death, one kind and gentle. You watched with tears in your eyes as he inhaled a last time, his chest rising as he did. And when he finally exhaled, everything stopped. Every story and every adventure of his were reduced to just that… tales. Something to remember and to cherish. 

You cried until the sun rose on the naked sky, your tears drying just in time for fresh ones to spill. You cried until your chest hurt and your lips were bitten bloody. You grieved your grandfather with every fiber of your being, until there was nothing left but large and hollow holes in your body, filled with an eternal sadness. 

Taehyun was there, he came when he heard your cries. Even though his embrace was cold and his arms freezing as they wrapped around you, there was never a moment where you felt yourself shiver. For there was warmth in his heart, enough for it to spread to your own. — Taehyun would help you live, just like you had helped him.

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[rabbitwitch2poems]

Part 6 based off a prompt by @ready-to-read7

I'm going to keep posting on here as well as AO3, but if y'all think a preview plus a link may be better let me know ^^

  It was a cave... A wet, echoey cave with huge platforms filled with tech and random things Danny's baby mind just didn't have the processing power to deal with. Overwhelming was an understatement to what the child was feeling. But hey, at least there was a cool dinosaur and a giant penny...and a creepy puppet in the back that looked like a mobster... (Danny looked a little closer and noticed some ectoplasm glowing from within but ignored it; that was future Danny's problem)        

 

     "Father, why have you returned so early with Superman, Wonder Woman, and a baby in tow?" The voice was hard to pinpoint for Danny seeing as the giant cave made all noises echo outwards. Thankfully the source of the voice made its presents known by the squeaking of a chair by the giant computer (Danny for a moment wondered why a hero with all the technology batman had would have a squeaky chair, he had to figure it was cause of the cave)          

 

    "I really hope you didn't have another fling" the small boy in a red and black costume said hopping down from the squeaky chair. Whoever this boy was, danger seemed to follow him. This was Danny's first impression based on two things,

1. the kid in a mask had a large sword and what looked to Danny like a thousands knives all over his person.

2. the amount of ectoplasm that this kid was expelling could feed an entire army of ghosts.      

 

     Also, what did he mean by fling? Did this man have more kids? Did he think he was going to adopt Danny? Well he wouldn't allow that! Sure the man seemed like he would make a decent father (he was intelligent, knew what he was doing, and focused on helping people so Danny assumed that transferred towards parentage as well) but if he had to choose a father he would rather Superman be his dad and he would fight anyone who tried to take him away from momma!

 

      "And now the child's eyes are glowing like the Lazarus pits grandfather watches over," this was said so bluntly that it took a few seconds for Danny to even realize all eyes were on him. He tried his best to play it off by smiling wide but he had forgotten how his teeth get when his ghostly attributes take over only causing his mother's frown to deepin. Danny frowned "sowwy momma, will exwain as bewst I can." With a deep breath and a kiss on the childs forehead his mother nodded.       

 

     The time has come for Danny to tell his mother what exactly was going on. He started with the basic of how he chose this world to be in, how he admired the three immensely and thanks to Clockwork (who he explained was basically time itself given a form) he was able to be reborn into this world, though even he didn't understand how or why he was in his core and in the possession of Luthor. He told them how Clockwork watches over the timelines within the multiverse and how he makes sure no deviations that could cause either that universe or the entire multiverse to unravel.   

 

   "So...he is kronos?" His mother asked causing Danny to pause for a second, "huh...kindwa? Nevew awskd... Wait dwos dat mean kwolcwork is my..." His mother confirmed with a nod, "great grandfather, yes my little one; seeing as my mother is Athena." Danny jaw dropped at that, oh he was so going to call CW gramps as soon as he could. Somewhere within the ghost realm CW shivered and turned to look at his mirror he used to check on Danny glaring at it.      

 

    Superman was in full attention to the little child's words while Batman was focusing both on the words and on quickly typing things into his small wrist computer to send to the main computer for later; only briefly stopping to ask questions. "So this realm you come from connects all worlds and multiverse together?" He asked and Danny nodded in answer, "baswiclly." Batman nodded at Danny, his emotions were starting to show more (it seems he allows himself to show emotions more when he is relaxed; as far as Danny could tell) curiosity and some kind of obsession floated around the man like tiny bats of different colours... One of them looked like a bat wearing a disco costume which puzzled the young boy.   

 

     More and more questions were asked, mainly about the ghost realm and how it worked which Danny couldn't really tell them in detail cause even he didn't know. They asked him if he had a name beyond what wonder woman had given him and he confirmed that Danny was his name,   "Last name?," batman asked bluntly, Danny pointed at his mother "hew wast name," it was an obvious answer to Daniel but the smiles on everyone's faces (even batman was slightly smiling though Danny could tell from his emotions floating around he was genuinely pleased) his mother hugged him close and kissed the top of his head causing the child to giggle happily.     

 

   Then came the tough questions, of where he used to live, he didn't remember much still, he remembered a crazy rich guy chasing him and wanting him to be his son, (this caused everyone including the child in red and black to laugh hysterically as Batman scrunched in on himself only to be hugged by superman, calming him down), he remembered a clone of himself that the rich man made to replace him (this caused Superman's emotions to flare with sadness and understanding which made Danny think he had an experience similar to him). They asked if that clone would be a problem and he shook his head, "she twavels a wot and hewps othwers," superman seemed to calm at his words confirming Danny's suspicions.  

 

      "Constantine called you  quote "your highness" what did he mean by that?" Danny sighed, he knew that question was going to come sooner or later. So he explained, he explained how the ghost zone had a rule of battle, where one owns what their opponent had upon defeat and how the last king of the realms, who basically kept order in the entire multiverse, was a tyrannical monster who was sealed away only to be brought back by worshippers. He explained the fight that almost killed him, that through some way and will he kept fighting (he knew it was to protect peopled he cared for, he just couldn't remember who, it was starting to make him slightly mad but he figured if they needed to be remembered they will) and eventually bested the king, sealing him away forever.      

 

     Superman and his momma where trying to absorb all the info but Batman seemed to already figured everything out, "so your people just let you come here?," the man asked and Danny paused thinking how to respond. " Well, yes and no,  vey wanted me to take the trone immedwiantly bwut CW swaid dis was fow da bwest, so fwostbit took ovew as my we...veasion?" His mother patted his head and corrected him "liaison," and Danny looked up at his mother pointing at her with a smile, "what momma swaid."       

 

     After all the questions we're finally asked momma let Danny down to explore, reminding him to be careful of the edges of the platform, "even if you can fly I'd rather you not risk it okay little one? Now go with Damian and let him show you around while I and my friends discuss everything." Danny nodded and turned around slowly marching up to the larger kid. Damian, the kid who had a bird symbol on the right side of his  chest and a red hoodie, looked down at Danny with apprehension, Danny looked at Damian, wearing a cute superman onesie his momma got him, with unblinking, semi glowing eyes and smiled impossibly wide at him.        

 

     The dinosaur was even cooler up close! It looked like one out of the movies and it was robotic. Danny could see some bent parts and wires sticking out of the joints, he wondered if the Batman one day would let him repair it, It would make a great security device, could even make it scare people in the shadows like the hero himself.

 

     The penny was bigger than Danny expected it to be and gave him an off feeling; like it was waiting for him to turn his back so the giant piece of metal could flatten him like a cartoon. Danny stayed away from the mobster puppet, but just over to the side of it were broken apart metal teeth and a strange looking ball with a strange green liquid in it. It wasn't ectoplasm, that Danny was sure; but it was eerie looking.    

 

    The entire time the young child was looking with awe at all the cave had to offer, Damian was watching him (it creeped Danny out) his emotions were as hidden as his father's, but every so often light waves of curiosity and suspicion would make it's way out. After looking at a hat that looked like it came directly out of Alice in wonderland Danny got annoyed at the quiet kid,     

 

   "Why are yew stawing at me?" Danny finally asked staring up at the slightly taller boy his eyes knitted together. The hooded kid looked down at him, "you feel like my grandfather and suddenly appear with one of fathers friends, I do not trust you for now and feel you shouldn't be allowed here so I am keeping an eye on you to make sure you to not plant anything." Danny was confused by every word beyond not trusting him. He huffed, "imma be a hewo like momma! I wuldt dawe to pwant things, even if I cwould thews no diwt to pwant them!" Danny was slightly floating up glaring back at Damian's scowl before being shocked back by a laugh.      

 

   "You remind me of Jon, I will trust you, for now," the red hooded child responded after finishing his laugh. Danny was starting to suspect that anyone related to the batman was as batty (heh pun) as the man was. This suspicion was confirmed when he heard a squeal coming from the elevator located near where his momma and her friends were talking.       

 

  "Superman you had another kid! And didn't tell me!" A girl wearing a purple hoodie (Danny began wondering if everyone here wore hoodies but then figured they were in a cave, was probably a smart thing to do) and basic jeans was quickly walking up to him before scooping him up from the air. "He is such a cutie pie! Hello there small child, I'm Stephanie and I'll be your honorary auntie ok?"       

 

     Danny didn't know how to react, on one hand the emotions of this woman where of compassion and kindness and love. On the other hand a random stranger was holding him and pinching his cheek. Naturally Danny whined, "stawwwwp." Funny enough the person did stop, mainly because another person grabbed her hand. He expected it to be momma or even superman but instead it was another girl who was wearing a black mask shaped like a bat like batman, but with the mouth piece covered with leather lazily stitched over.      

 

   The woman who grabbed Stephanie's hand made a few hand signals Danny didn't understand before walking back. Waves of embarrassment and sadness came from the purple woman holding him; what was her name again? Stephanie? Danny was sure that's what she called herself. "Sorry, I tend to go overboard, thank you Cassie." Stephanie put Danny down and turned to the adults, all of whom had made their way over.     

 

     Danny's mother scooped him up and hugged him, "we will need to work on your freeze instinct but you kept calm, very good my little warrior," she kissed the top of his head as Damian nodded from behind everyone in agreement. Stephanie looked on with wide eyes, "ohhh he's your kid WW? Sorry for being so... Quick to judge..just the onesie... and the floating..." The girl was stopped with a wave of Diana's hand and a small smile, "it's ok, it was a natural conclusion to come to," she responded quelling Stephanie's worry, "though touch him again without his consent and you will be on the floor," and the worry was back again, Danny sighed, his mother could be a tad overprotective, but then again he was a baby so that was understandable.     

 

    To quench his mother rising anger he hugged her neck, "it okay momma, just supwized." That thankfully seemed to help as love radiated from his mother and the worry stopped from Stephanie, replaced by adoration from the display of affection.    

 

   The reving of an engine turned everyone's gaze to the red motorcycle currently parking next to the batmobile as a man wearing a large red helmet got off. Danny's eyes were wide, if the kid in the hoodie had ecto oozing out of him for an army this man was exploding with the stuff and it felt like it was rotting! He wiggled out of his mother's arms and ran up to the man patting his leg, "yew, yew fiwed with bad ecto, I hewp." The man with the helmet looked down at him, one of the eyebrows of the helmet raising (Danny had no time for confusion on how that could work) and crouched down and booped his nose before looking at the adults staring on with their jaws dropped.    

 

    "Who's the brat and what does he mean by bad ecto?," the man said causing Danny to pout and punch him (it actually hurt red a little which shocked him but he made sure not to show it) "not a bwat! Bad ecto from ghost wealm, wotten gween, wepwace!" Danny emphasized this by patting the mans chest and pushing some clean ecto into him. The reaction from hood was not what Danny expected, he was hoping for calmness, mabey joy, or even shock. He did not expect the man in the helmet to fall to his knees and vomit.       

 

     The three main heros acted instantly,  Batman ran over to the mans side expertly taking the helmet off. Superman was gone in a second and by the next had an old butler with water and a box with a plus symbol on it. His mother scooped him up and looked at him with furrowed brows, "Danny Prince you will explain right now what you just did." He had never seen his mom's anger pointed to himself before, it scared him and the child started to cry,  

 

       "I...I ju...juwst w...was hewping, hewmet man had b..bad ecto, ghost enewgy, I wepwace wif good ecto, did nowt get aww, shouwd feew bettew soon."         

 

       His momma patted his back holding him close and humming a tune, "there, there, little one, thank you for explaining, but know now not to do so without asking first, all actions have consequences, what was meant to be good caused a mess to need to be cleaned up, now once red hood feels better you will apologize and we will head upstairs to Bruce's home and have a moment to relax... I think we all need it"

 

*********

 

    Jason's head hurt and he felt like he just had fourth degree burns quenched with water from a glacier mixed with electricity; overall not how he expect his day to end, that was for certain. It had been an overall annoying day to begin with, first he wakes up early from a nightmare about that damn clown only to find out his safe house was out of cereal and coffee.     

 

   His afternoon was  decent, he stopped by some of the non profits he kept safe from bandits and assholes to check if all was going well and to donate some cash (which he may or may not have gotten from a drug den he busted up for dealing to kids) and was then off to the gym where he worked out for a few hours.     

 

     Wasn't till late into his nightly activities that shit went sideways, first black masks goons thought it would be a good idea to try and kidnap some homeless kids on his alley. Then a new crime boss tried taking over his territory so obviously Jason had to hunt him down and take out his goons. And now he is kneeling on a metal platform, dizzy as fuck, his skin both burning and freezing, and his stomach doing more flips than Dick during training.      

 

     When the world finally wasn't upside down he was alone with Alfred holding a glass cup of fizzing water.   "Its ginger ale master Todd, young Daniel recommended it to help with the... 'ecto sickness' as the young one calls it. Apparently whatever helped bring you back to us caused something to stick around."

 

     Jason drank the beverage with gusto as he slowly stood up. Making sure he wouldn't faceplant getting up was dear Alfred by his side. "do you need a moment to yourself? Everyone else will be waiting for you at the dining room area," Jason gave a short nod as he walked over to the batcomputer and sat down heavily, -man Bruce has to get a new chair- he thought to himself as he tried to make sense of whatever the fuck just happened.  

 

**********

 

     Danny had to admit, the house was far better than the cave below it. It was huuuge! A mansion to be certain, one that Danny was sure that if he had a chance to explore; would probably take him days to see it all. Currently they were in the dining room, a giant area with ornate carvings along the corners of the ceiling and a giant chandelier situated above the very long table currently filled with six inhabitants.   

 

     His mother had just finished a long lecture to him about asking before doing anything to anyone for any reason (unless of course they were super villains then all was fair game which caused Danny's prankster of a mind to be riddled with ideas) and the butler (who Danny learned was named Alfred) had just put down the last plate of dinner. Danny was nonchalantly eating a rib, bone and all, when the man he helped walked in.    

 

    He stopped and took in the sight, everyone was watching Danny with worry (besides his mother she had gotten use to this long ago) and coughed , "so .....what's the deal with the kid?" Everyone's head swiveled to look at the man as well as Danny; who stopped mid bite. Bruce gestured to a seat and explained what was going on as Jason went to sit down. "Danny here is a being from a different reality, one that connects all realities, after events that happened to him he chose this world to start a new in. Diana found him as a crystal and when he appeared as a baby decided to become his mother and take care of him"      

 

    Jason looked at Bruce, his eyebrow raised and a snort exiting his being, "well...at least he isn't another one of your forgotten children I suppose, we will have a deeper chat about what it is he did to me, for now I'm hungry and tired." Everyone around him nodded as they all went back to eating.     

 

    After the dinner was finished Danny got to explore the mansion, with supervision of course, red hood took up the task at hand not knowing how hard it would be. Within the first few minutes Danny was alone wandering giant halls filled with paintings and suits of armor. It honestly reminded him a bit of the palace in the ghost zone just less...colourful.       

 

     This mansion had pretty much everything, giant gym in the basement, theater in a side room that could be it's own house, even a room for playing bowling! Daniel realized rich people were a little weird when he entered a room covered in animal heads (a relic long since abandoned by Bruce and family it's still well kept and dusted regularly by Alfred); Danny didn't like that room and so moved on.    Honestly this place has everything a person could need to live a secret life which Daniel guessed was accurate seeing as who's house it was.

 

     Only thing missing was a arca... -holy crap they have an arcade!- Daniel thought to himself and it was huge! It had a vr setup with moving floor, arcade machines of old and new types, and DDR! Daniel was so preoccupied staring at all the machines he didn't hear the man come up to him and screeched when a hand touched his shoulder. Turning around he saw a large man with short black hair that looked like it took hours to get to look right.

 

     "Whoops! Sorry little guy, I guessed you would have gotten mesmerized by this place, Stephanie just loves her games and bruce loves indulging us sometimes," the man said, worry emanating off the man calming Danny slightly (but man, if he wasn't use to having his heart stop as a ghost he would have had a heart attack!)

 

     Slowly he breathed in, his mother taught him some techniques after a hectic tantrum over a toy. "Deep breath in, hold, slowly out" she would say, repeating it like a mantra to calm him down.  The man saw Danny breath deeply and cocked his head, "ya know...for someone who is barely a toddler you are very intelligent young man," Daniel giggled at that and the man smiled, "there we go all calm? Okay well I'm Tim, one of Bruce's kids it's nice to meet you."

 

     Tim gently ruffled the toddlers head, "let's get you back to the adults ok? They are a little worried about you...cept Diana but that's just her normal state of being," Tim stated and Danny nodded, "momma best wawwior." Daniel giggled at the man who picked him up with wide eyes.

*******

       It had been a fun day in Danny's opinion, he got to go to space, met momma's friends, answer some questions, and see a giant house that a man dressed as a bat lived in; Overall a good day. Sure he had to deal with his mom lecturing him again and yeah he felt embarrassed that he got caught, but hey for someone only turning one in a couple days he has had a lot of fun. He was sure he had made the right decision in living here. 

       After dinner his other tucked him into bed and read him a story about a boy who was the child of a god (his mother chuckled as she read it). After finishing the chapter and putting the book back Diana sat on the edge of Danny's bed and petted his head,

 

    "know this little one, no matter your situation , no matter your past, you are my ward, my child, I love you and will always be there for you, anyone who dares to harm you will answer to me."

 

     Daniel smiled wide, tears in his eyes as he held his mother close a warm spreading from both. Slowly the two separated, his mother tucking him back in and slowly  exiting leaving the door open just a crack after turning off the light. Danny slowly drifted away to dreams of his new life to come. 

[shianis]

Story request: screamer shenanigans that make Megatron go 'in the end he's still my treacherous idiot'

(coming from a fellow megastar lover ehehehe)

If it's vague I'm up for a follow up👀✌️

The halls of the Nemesis echoed with the familiar sounds of bickering, metal clanking, and a shrill, unmistakable voice.

“You dare question my brilliance?!” Starscream’s voice carried through the corridors, grating and theatrical as always. “I am second-in-command, the air commander, the most cunning—”

A loud explosion interrupted his self-aggrandizing monologue, followed by the sound of scraping metal and something heavy tumbling down.

Megatron groaned, his crimson optics narrowing as he slowly rose from his throne. He knew the source of this disaster all too well.

When he arrived at the scene, he found Starscream tangled in some cables, his wings awkwardly bent. Smoke billowed from a hole in the wall nearby, where the explosion had left a perfectly Starscream-shaped imprint.

“What... did you do this time?” Megatron growled, crossing his arms.

Starscream’s optics flickered as he looked up, his dignity even more damaged than his body. “It was... Thundercracker’s fault!”

Thundercracker, standing a few meters away with his arms crossed, scowled. “I wasn’t even here. I just got back from patrol.”

Starscream’s optics darted back and forth, his processor working overtime to come up with a believable lie. “Uh... Then it was Skywarp! He... he... teleported and startled me!”

Skywarp appeared out of nowhere. “I didn’t do anything! This time...” he added, rubbing the back of his head. “I was busy putting glue on Soundwave’s cassettes.”

Megatron pinched the bridge of his nasal plating. “You’re all idiots...”

Starscream finally extricated himself from the pile of debris, brushing dust off his armor. He stood tall, attempting to regain his usual air of superiority despite his crooked wing. Seeing he had no one else to blame for this commotion he finally explained. “I was merely testing a new weapon I designed. It would have guaranteed our victory over the Autobots!”

Megatron looked past him at the smoldering crater. “A weapon.”

“Yes!” Starscream puffed out his chest. “A powerful rocket launcher with advanced targeting systems. It would have destroyed Optimus Prime in one blow!”

“...So where is this rocket launcher now?”

Starscream’s face fell. He glanced over his shoulder at the blackened hole in the wall, then at the far end of the hangar, where the twisted remains of his ‘masterpiece’ lay half-melted.

“There were... a few minor malfunctions...” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“A few?” Megatron repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “Your ‘weapon’ made a hole in my warship!”

“But, mighty Megatron!” Starscream’s tone shifted to pleading. “Think of the potential! Once I iron out the... um... minor bugs, it will be unstoppable!”

Megatron’s optics narrowed. “Like the time you built that weather machine that ended up freezing yourself in a block of ice?”

Starscream flinched. “I... I was testing the limits of its power.”

“Or the time you tried to create an army of clones and they revolted because they couldn’t stand your voice?”

Starscream’s wings drooped. “They were... defective.”

“Or how about the time you reprogrammed the Space Bridge and accidentally teleported yourself to the bottom of the ocean?”

“That was... a navigation error, and a very educational trip.” Starscream muttered, optics fixed on the floor.

Megatron heaved a long, suffering sigh. How many times had this played out? Starscream, with his insatiable ambition and harebrained schemes, always striving to prove himself but constantly tripping over his own arrogance. It was like a never-ending loop of chaos and destruction.

Yet, despite everything, Megatron couldn’t deny that Starscream’s antics often yielded unexpected results. Sometimes, the seeker’s wild experiments led to breakthroughs—usually after several disastrous failures, but still. And in battle, there was no better air commander. When he was focused and not distracted by delusions of grandeur, Starscream was undeniably brilliant.

Megatron’s shoulders slumped as he watched Starscream attempt to straighten his damaged wing, wincing at the pain. The seeker’s pride was far more bruised than his body.

“Get yourself repaired, Starscream,” Megatron said, his tone surprisingly soft. “And stop blowing holes in my ship!”

Starscream’s optics brightened. “Of course, mighty Megatron! I shall refine my designs and—”

And then explosion rocked the ship. The emergency lights flickered red, and klaxons blared.

Starscream glanced around. “Oh. That might be unrelated.”

“Soundwave!” Megatron barked.

“Affirmative. Starscream’s laboratory has been compromised. External plating breached.”

“Starscream!”

“Okay, fine! I may have been running an experiment on sentient nanites. They were supposed to clean the ship! How was I supposed to know they’d develop a sense of rebellion?”

Megatron’s servo hit his faceplate with a resounding clang. “of course they would rebel, they are your treacherous creations after all. You have one cycle to fix this.”

Starscream saluted with more enthusiasm than sense. “You can count on me!” He dashed off, shouting, “Nanites! Cease your uprising! I am your creator!”

Megatron sank back onto his throne, the ship still rumbling.

“Starscream is an idiot,” he muttered, rubbing his temple. “But at least he’s my idiot.”

In the distance, a loud crash echoed through the halls, followed by Starscream’s indignant squawk. Megatron closed his optics. Maybe if he sat very still, the chaos would just pass by.

It did not.

BONUS!

It was another day aboard the Nemesis, and Megatron was already nursing a processor ache. He could hear Starscream’s shrill voice echoing through the hallways, a sure sign that disaster was imminent.

He stomped down the corridor, servos clanking with impatience. The seeker was up to something again—probably another one of his harebrained schemes to overthrow him. Not that any of them ever worked.

When he reached the main control room, the sight before him was... something. Starscream stood on top of the main console, striking a dramatic pose, his wings flared out as he pointed towards a holographic display of Earth. The other Decepticons stood around, looking various shades of bored or confused.

“Behold!” Starscream announced, his voice dripping with self-importance. “I have devised the ultimate plan to crush the Autobots and seize power once and for all!”

Megatron groaned. Here we go again.

Starscream tapped the console with his foot, and the hologram zoomed in on a human amusement park, complete with a giant roller coaster, cotton candy stands, and costumed mascots waving at guests.

Thundercracker frowned. “Uh, Starscream? What does a human playground have to do with conquering the Autobots?”

“Silence!” Starscream snapped, waving his arm theatrically. “This is no mere playground! This is the perfect location to lay an ambush! We shall disguise ourselves as attractions, lure the Autobots in, and destroy them when they least expect it!”

Skywarp snorted. “Disguise ourselves as attractions? What are you gonna be? A bumper car?”

Starscream shot him a withering glare. “Of course not! I will be... the roller coaster!”

The room fell silent. Every optic turned to stare at Starscream, who stood there, chest puffed out with pride as if he’d just delivered the most brilliant plan in Decepticon history.

Megatron’s optic twitched. “No, I’m going back to recharge. It is too much of Starscream’s brilliant plans for one day. “

[christopherisfoive]

Cold Burn (Chapter 4)

!idol reader x Seungmin; enemies to lovers

Word Count: (It literally won't let me move it from here lol)

Note: I wrote this super late last night and tried to edit my best but sorry if there are any mistakes, going back to drafting on docs because tumblr hates me. It has been a long week. Thank you for reading, I appreciate it <3 (it will eventually make sense i promise)

Masterlist

The city was alive with the midday rush, bustling streets and flashing signs lining every corner. It should’ve felt freeing after being cooped up in venues and hotels for the past few weeks, but even with the fresh air, I still felt off.

I adjusted my mask, letting my hood cast a shadow over my face as I followed behind my group.

It was supposed to be a day off.

But my mind was still playing back every mistake I’d made on stage during the tour.

I should have been enjoying this break. But instead, I was still holding onto every mistake, every moment that made me feel like I was losing control.

And then, like perfectly timed chaos, I heard it—the sound of cameras clicking.

Whispers turned into excited calls.

I instinctively pulled my hood lower, keeping my face neutral as the others started interacting.

A group of fans and paparazzi had spotted us, and before I could even process it, they were already approaching fast.

"Oh my god, it’s Stray Kids and Stellar!" one girl squealed, phone already out.

The energy shifted immediately.

Han, Hyunjin, and Leah engaged easily, smiling and waving. Bang Chan answered a few quick questions, even as security started stepping in to maintain a barrier.

Then came the actual questions.

"Y/N! Can you talk about your solo stage? People said it didn’t seem like your usual energy!"

"Is it true you don’t like performing live?"

"Are you okay? You seemed out of sync in the last show!"

I ignored them.

I always ignored them.

Instead, I kept walking, keeping my gaze forward, shoulders tense under my hoodie.

That was all it took to shift the crowd’s mood.

People started stepping in front of me, blocking my path, shoving phones and cameras in my direction.

The excitement turned to pushy persistence.

"Why won’t you say anything?"

"Y/N, just one word for your fans?"

I clenched my jaw and sidestepped them, but it was too late.

Someone moved in too close.

Before I could react, a fan—a girl, maybe late teens, wearing a hoodie with our group’s name on it—stepped right into my space.

"Why do you always ignore us?" Her voice was sharp, demanding.

I took a step back, my pulse spiking. Too close. Way too close.

She didn't stop. "Other idols talk to their fans. What’s your problem?"

Before I could respond—before I could even process how uncomfortable I felt—she lifted her phone closer to my face, snapping a photo at point-blank range.

I barely kept my composure, my breath hitching as I turned away sharply.

Security finally stepped in, blocking her as one of our managers started ushering us forward.

But the damage was already done.

I could already hear the murmurs.

"What’s wrong with her?"

"So rude."

"Seungmin would never act like that."

And of course—there he was.

I glanced up just in time to see him smiling effortlessly, answering questions, personally greeting every fan that came up to him.

Easy. Natural. Everything I wasn’t.

I could already feel his judgment from across the crowd.

To him, I probably looked like the worst kind of idol.

What he didn’t know was that I had my reasons.

And I wasn’t about to explain myself to him.

The second we finally got away from the crowd, I could feel the weight of the encounter still pressing on my chest. My steps were quick, my head down, but I could still hear the lingering whispers, the judgment heavy in the air.

I wasn’t sure if it was my own overthinking or if they were actually talking about me, but it didn’t matter.

The damage was already done.

As we turned the corner onto a quieter street, I felt someone fall into step beside me.

I didn’t need to look to know who it was.

"You could at least pretend to care."

I exhaled sharply, barely sparing Seungmin a glance before looking ahead again. "Not in the mood, Seungmin."

"Oh, I know," he said, voice casual but laced with something sharp. "You’re never in the mood, right?"

I clenched my jaw. "Drop it."

But of course, he didn’t.

"Seriously, what’s your deal?" He scoffed. "You act like it’s such a burden to interact with people who support you. The rest of us can handle it just fine. Why is it so hard for you?"

That did it.

I stopped walking, turning to him with narrowed eyes. "You have no idea what you’re talking about."

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest. "Don’t I?"

I let out a sharp breath, shaking my head. "Not everything is as easy as you make it seem, Seungmin."

"No," he agreed, "but being decent to the people who made your career possible isn’t that hard."

The words hit me harder than I expected.

I had spent years learning how to brush off the criticism, how to let things roll off my back.

But for some reason, hearing it from him—someone who already thought the worst of me—made my blood boil.

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "You don’t get to judge me."

"Then give me a reason not to."

The challenge was clear in his expression, in the way he refused to look away first.

I had so much I wanted to say.

But I knew it wouldn’t matter.

Not yet.

So instead, I just exhaled sharply and turned away, continuing forward.

"That’s what I thought," Seungmin muttered behind me, before falling back into step with the others.

I didn’t look back.

But the anger sat heavy in my chest, burning quietly.

-

The hotel lobby was quiet, save for the occasional footsteps of staff moving around and the faint sound of music playing from the lounge area. Most of the others had already gone up to their rooms or found their own ways to unwind after the long day.

I had planned to do the same.

Instead, I found myself sitting in the corner of the lobby, scrolling through my phone, letting the harsh glow of the screen burn into my eyes.

I knew I should’ve put it away.

I knew I shouldn’t have been reading any of this.

But my fingers kept moving, my screen lighting up with headlines, forum posts, and brutal opinions dissecting everything about me.

"Y/N is proof that visuals matter more than talent in the industry."

"Best 4th Gen Dancer my ass."

"She’s not even the best in her group—why does she get so much attention?"

"I heard she got her spot because of connections, not skill. Makes sense why she’s so stiff on stage."

"You really think she made it this far just by ‘working hard’? LMAO, be serious."

My stomach twisted, and I could feel my pulse in my fingertips.

The accusations weren’t new—I had heard whispers like this for years. But somehow, seeing it laid out so blatantly, with thousands of likes and shares, made it feel heavier.

Worse.

Like no matter what I did, no matter how much effort I put in, there were still people who would never respect me.

I barely noticed when someone sat down in the chair across from me, but I did feel the weight of their stare.

"You still look at that stuff?"

I flinched slightly, my thumb freezing mid-scroll.

I glanced up to see Jeongin, leaning back in the chair across from me, arms crossed.

I quickly locked my phone, shoving it onto the table. "It’s nothing."

"Didn’t look like nothing."

His voice wasn’t accusing, just matter-of-fact.

I sighed, running a hand over my face. "Just people talking. Same as always."

Jeongin didn’t respond right away. He just sat there, watching me like he was waiting for me to be honest.

After a beat, he exhaled, shaking his head. "You know none of that’s real, right?"

I let out a small, dry laugh. "Yeah, sure."

Jeongin frowned, his usual playfulness gone. "Y/N."

I forced myself to meet his eyes, but my chest felt tight.

I didn’t want to talk about this. Not now.

So I shrugged. "It’s fine. Doesn’t matter."

Jeongin studied me for a second longer before pushing off the chair, leaning forward to grab my phone.

Without asking, he flipped it face-down on the table.

"Then stop looking."

His tone was soft but firm. A simple statement, not a suggestion.

I swallowed, my fingers twitching slightly.

Jeongin sighed, his expression less teasing than usual, more serious. "Don’t let them win, Y/N."

And with that, he stood up, walking off toward the elevators.

I sat there for a moment, staring at my phone, my reflection faint in the dark screen.

I should’ve let it go.

But the words were still burned into my mind.

And I wasn’t sure if I knew how.

-

The burn in my throat started a few nights ago. Subtle at first, just a scratch that I figured would go away with enough water and rest.

Except, there was no rest.

Not when we were on back-to-back schedules, traveling city to city, rehearsing between shows, barely enough time to breathe, let alone recover.

I pushed through like always.

Now, standing in the middle of the rehearsal room, sweat clinging to my skin, I felt off.

The usual ache from training felt heavier today, my limbs sluggish, my breath coming shorter than it should have.

I rolled my shoulders back, ignoring the way my vision blurred for half a second.

I was fine.

Across the room, Jeongin watched me.

I caught the way his brows furrowed slightly, the way his gaze lingered as I moved through the choreography.

I knew that look.

I ignored it.

"Let’s go again," Chan called out, already stepping forward to reset the formation.

I exhaled sharply, steadying my stance, locking my body into position as the music cued up again.

But the moment I took my first step, I felt it.

The slight dip in my balance, the way my head felt lighter than it should have.

I corrected it immediately, moving into the next beat as if nothing had happened.

But Jeongin saw.

And so did Seungmin.

I felt his gaze before I even turned his way, a glance quick enough to catch the way his expression flickered—something almost unreadable flashing across his face.

For once, he didn’t say anything.

I wasn’t sure if it was the heat of the room or my own body turning against me, but every time we restarted the routine, my chest felt tighter.

I took a deep breath, forcing air into my lungs, willing my body to cooperate.

I couldn’t stop now.

Not when I had spent the last few weeks feeling like I was slipping. Not when people were already questioning whether I deserved to be here.

I needed them to see me succeed.

So I kept going.

Even when my legs felt heavier than they should have.

Even when my head felt like it was filled with static.

Even when I knew—knew—I was moving on sheer willpower alone.

I felt the weight of Jeongin’s stare first.

He wasn’t even being subtle about it anymore—I could see him watching between reps, his usual easy-going expression replaced with something more cautious.

But he didn’t say anything.

Neither did Seungmin.

I caught his gaze in the mirror, just for a second.

He was standing off to the side, arms crossed, eyes narrowed just slightly.

For once, there was no smirk. No sharp remarks.

Just quiet observation.

I ignored them both.

I had to.

The music started again, the pounding bass vibrating through my body, rattling in my chest.

I moved on instinct, letting my muscle memory carry me through—each step, each transition, each sharp hit of the beat.

But something was off.

I felt it before I saw it.

The moment my foot landed wrong, I knew. The angle was off, the weight uneven. My body moved a fraction of a second behind my mind, and suddenly—

I was out of sync.

Just for half a beat.

But in this world, half a beat was everything.

I immediately corrected, snapping into place, but the mistake had already happened. I could feel the eyes on me.

Someone spoke. "Y/N, what was that?"

I blinked, chest rising and falling faster than it should’ve been.

My mind scrambled for a response, but the words weren’t there.

I wasn’t fully there.

"I—" My voice sounded strange, distant, like it belonged to someone else.

Across from me, Ari’s gaze sharpened.

She saw it.

But she didn’t get the chance to say anything.

I sucked in a breath, forcing my posture straight, willing my body to hold itself together.

"Let’s go again," I said quickly, pretending nothing happened.

I needed to shake this off.

I needed them to see me succeed.

Even if my body had other plans.

The music thundered through the speakers, vibrating through the stage beneath my feet.

I kept moving. Kept pushing.

Every step felt heavier, like my limbs were fighting against me. My skin was damp with sweat, but I felt cold.

It was getting harder to breathe.

The stage lights burned hot, casting everything in a hazy glow. The air felt thick, each inhale tighter than the last.

And then—

The misstep.

The dizziness.

The moment my body finally gave out beneath me.

The floor rushed toward me, the sharp gasp of someone nearby cutting through the ringing in my ears.

The music stopped.

Someone called my name.

I barely heard them before everything faded to black.

The moment my body hit the stage, everything exploded into chaos.

The music cut off instantly.

Footsteps—rushed, frantic—pounded against the stage floor as voices overlapped in panic.

"Y/N!"

"Someone get the staff!"

I felt hands on me—someone kneeling beside me, another hand brushing my hair back, the fabric of my sweat-soaked clothes sticking to my skin.

I was aware of it all, but everything felt distant. Like I was watching it happen from the outside, my limbs too heavy to respond.

"Is she breathing okay?" Ari’s voice was the sharpest, her usual calm cracked with pure fear.

"She’s burning up," Leah’s voice trembled. "We need to get her offstage—now."

Someone lifted me slightly, supporting my upper body. The movement made my stomach turn, a weak groan escaping before I could stop it.

"She’s conscious," Jeongin said quickly, relief barely masking the tension in his voice.

A shaky breath. My lips parted, but no words came out.

Through the haze, I caught a glimpse of Seungmin standing a few steps away.

Frozen.

For the first time since this tour started, he looked…unsure. His usual sharp eyes were wide, his lips pressed into a thin line as if he wasn’t sure what to say.

But I couldn’t focus on him.

Because my head was spinning, my skin was on fire, and the weight of every mistake, every moment I ignored my body’s warning signs, had finally come crashing down.

And now?

I wasn’t in control anymore.

The coolness of the backstage area barely helped with the heat radiating off my skin.

I felt cold and hot at the same time, my limbs too heavy, my breathing uneven.

Voices blurred together.

"Her temperature is high."

"She needs fluids—has she eaten today?"

"She’s completely burned out."

I tried to speak to tell them I was fine, but my throat felt raw. The most I could manage was a weak, halfhearted shake of my head.

"Don’t try to talk," Ari’s voice was there, close, softer than before. "They’re just checking your vitals."

I swallowed, eyes flickering open.

The faces above me were blurry, shifting in and out of focus. A few staff members kneeled beside me, pressing a cool cloth to my forehead, speaking in hushed tones.

Ari, Leah, Jeongin, and Lee Know were still there.

Lee Know stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching the scene with an unreadable expression.

I tried to sit up, but the second I moved, my head spun.

A sharp inhale.

Lee Know was faster than Ari this time, pressing a hand to my shoulder and easily keeping me down.

"Not happening," he muttered. "Just rest, okay?"

Leah crossed her arms, clearly annoyed. "How long have you been feeling like this?"

I didn’t answer.

Because I knew the truth would only piss them off more.

Before I could gather enough strength to argue, the managers arrived.

Their voices were firm, no room for negotiation.

"She’s not performing tonight."

The words hit like a slap, and suddenly, the heaviness in my body wasn’t just from being sick.

I forced myself to sit up, ignoring the pounding in my head as I looked between them. "No. I can still do it."

"Y/N," Leah warned, eyes flashing with frustration.

But I wasn’t listening.

I turned to the managers again, pushing past the ache in my limbs. "I’ll be fine by showtime. I just need—"

"You just collapsed on stage," Ari cut in, arms crossed. "There’s no debate. You’re sitting this one out."

No.

No, no, no.

I had spent weeks proving myself, clawing my way through every performance, every mistake, every doubt.

I wasn’t losing my spot now.

"I can do this," I tried again, my voice hoarse. "I just—"

"Oh!" A voice interrupted, and I didn’t have to look to know who it belonged to.

Mira.

She strolled into view, faux concern plastered all over her face, hands clasped in front of her. "If she can’t go on, I can step in."

The air shifted.

For a split second, nobody spoke.

Then, one of the managers nodded. "That could work. You already know the choreo."

My stomach twisted violently.

Mira turned to me, her smile oh-so sweet, but her eyes telling an entirely different story.

"Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll take good care of your part."

I felt numb.

The room was still spinning, but the real sickness sat in my chest.

I should have fought back. I should have said something.

But the moment Mira tilted her head, smiling like she had won, everything inside me just… shut off.

I went blank.

Ari’s head snapped toward Mira, eyes narrowing. "You’re really volunteering that fast, huh?"

Mira turned to her, expression perfectly innocent. "What do you mean? Someone has to do it."

Ari’s lips pressed together, but she didn’t buy it. I could see the irritation tighten her jaw, the way her hands fisted at her sides.

She wasn’t the only one.

Lee Know, who had been mostly quiet until now, finally spoke.

"You sure you can handle it?" His voice was flat, unreadable, but there was something pointed underneath.

Mira smiled wider. "I mean, it’s not that complicated, right?"

Ari let out a sharp breath, like she was physically stopping herself from saying something she’d regret.

Lee Know just stared at Mira for a long moment.

Then, slowly, he turned to me.

"Y/N."

I blinked, but I couldn’t force words out.

What was I supposed to say?

Mira had already taken my spot.

Nothing I said would change it now.

So I just looked away.

-

The moment Mira stepped away from me, I could already hear her faking concern as she walked over to the others.

"Guys, change of plans," she said, voice just loud enough for me to hear from where I sat. "Y/N isn’t performing tonight, so I’ll be taking her place."

The reaction was immediate.

Kat’s face twisted in confusion. "Wait, what? Since when?"

Mira sighed dramatically, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Since about five minutes ago," she said. "The managers agreed, and I already know the choreo, so it just makes sense."

Hyunjin’s eyes flickered toward me, his concern obvious. "And Y/N’s okay with this?"

Mira didn’t even hesitate. "Well, she didn’t argue."

Ari scoffed. "Yeah, because she’s half-conscious."

The room tensed.

Mira only shrugged, smiling just a little. "Either way, we should start getting ready."

Lee Know, who had been watching the whole thing in silence, finally spoke. "Just don’t mess it up." His tone was neutral, but his expression wasn’t.

Mira’s smile didn’t falter. "Oh, don’t worry. I’ve got this."

And with that, she turned away, ready to steal the show.

I barely registered the conversation.

I barely felt anything at all.

Because the second they all turned away, the second I was left sitting backstage, my chest tightened in a way I couldn’t control.

I blinked up at the ceiling, forcing back the burning in my throat.

I had lost my spot.

After everything I had fought for—**after every moment I forced myself to push through, to prove I was worth something—**I was still replaceable.

And the worst part?

Mira was making sure I knew it.

My hands curled into fists, nails pressing into my palms. I squeezed my eyes shut, but it didn’t stop the feeling of failure from swallowing me whole.

I had fought so hard.

And it still wasn’t enough.

-

By the time the show started, I was watching from the wings, still too weak to stand on my own.

The lights hit the stage, the energy buzzing through the arena as Stellar performed without me.

And then, it happened.

Mira did my move.

Not just any move—my signature move. The one I had created, the one I had made my own.

The audience cheered like nothing was wrong.

Mira beamed.

And I?

I felt sick for a whole new reason.

The energy backstage was still buzzing, staff members congratulating each other, the usual post-show adrenaline filling the space.

But I wasn’t part of it.

I sat off to the side, still too weak to stand properly, watching as everyone came back from the stage.

And Mira?

She made a beeline toward me.

She tilted her head, still in full makeup and costume, wiping sweat off her brow like she had just saved the whole show.

And then she smiled.

"That was fun," she said sweetly. "I mean, I wouldn’t want to replace you permanently or anything, but… I did fit in pretty well, don’t you think?"

She let the words sink in, let them cut.

Then, with a final smirk, she turned and walked off.

And I sat there, feeling like I had lost everything.

I needed to get out of here.

The post-show energy, the voices, the flashing lights from the screens playing encore footage—it was too much.

I pushed myself up, ignoring the way my legs wobbled beneath me.

Leah and Ari noticed immediately, their heads snapping in my direction, but I didn’t give them time to stop me.

I kept my head down and moved, weaving past staff and dancers, making my way toward the private restroom backstage.

My hands were trembling by the time I pushed the door open.

The second it closed behind me, the weight I had been holding in collapsed all at once.

I braced myself against the sink, sucking in sharp, uneven breaths.

Everything hit me at once.

The exhaustion.

The humiliation.

The sharp, suffocating feeling of being replaced so easily.

A ragged breath tore from my throat, and I gripped the edges of the sink, my vision blurring as my chest heaved.

I couldn’t do this.

I couldn’t—

A soft knock at the door made me freeze.

My stomach twisted.

For a second, I thought it was Leah or Ari coming to check on me.

But then—

"Y/N."

I went rigid.

Because that wasn’t Leah.

Or Ari.

Or anyone I would’ve expected.

It was Seungmin.

I gripped the sink harder, willing my breaths to even out, willing myself to stay silent.

Maybe if I didn’t answer, he’d take the hint and leave.

Seconds passed.

Then—

"I know you’re in there."

His voice was calm. Not sharp, not teasing—just even.

I clenched my jaw, staring at my reflection in the mirror. Red-rimmed eyes. Flushed skin. The complete opposite of the image I was supposed to keep up.

I swallowed back the lump in my throat.

Silence.

Maybe he’d take that as an answer.

Then he spoke again.

"So that’s it?" A slight shift in his tone, like he was testing the waters. "You’re just gonna sit in there and pretend nothing happened?"

My fingers twitched against the cool porcelain.

That’s exactly what I was going to do.

Pretend this wasn’t happening.

Pretend I wasn’t falling apart.

Another pause.

Then, softer this time—"You don’t have to pretend with me."

Something in my chest tensed.

I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping the sink even harder.

Why was he still standing there?

And more importantly—why did it sound like he actually meant that?

A long beat of silence stretched between us.

I refused to move. Refused to speak.

But Seungmin wasn’t leaving.

Instead, he let out a slow exhale, and when he spoke again, his voice was lower, less guarded.

"You know… I thought you were stronger than this."

Something in me flinched.

His tone wasn’t mocking, wasn’t sharp—just honest. And that somehow made it worse.

He shifted outside the door, and I could almost picture him standing there, arms crossed, debating what to say next.

"All this time, you’ve acted like nothing gets to you. Like you don’t care what people say." A pause. "But you do, don’t you?"

I sucked in a quiet breath, my grip on the sink tightening.

"You care too much."

Another pause.

Then—"That’s why you don’t fight back."

My stomach twisted.

Because I hated how close to the truth that was.

I stared down at my reflection on the floor, my own exhausted eyes staring back at me.

And still, I didn’t say a word.

Seungmin shifted again, like he was about to say more—then stopped himself.

A beat of silence.

Then, his voice dropped to almost a murmur.

"You know, you’re not the only one who’s ever felt like this."

I blinked.

My breath hitched just slightly, but I caught it before it could be heard.

I didn’t know what I was expecting him to say, but… not that.

Something in his voice was different now.

Less sharp.

Less detached.

More like he actually… understood.

I swallowed, my chest tightening with something I couldn’t place.

And yet—I still said nothing.

I heard him shift once more, but this time, he hesitated.

Then, after one last pause—I heard footsteps.

He was leaving.

But somehow, it didn’t feel like an ending.

It felt like the beginning of something I wasn’t ready to face.

The room was quiet again.

No more footsteps.

No more words.

Just me.

I stayed where I was, back pressed against the cool tiles, knees pulled up to my chest.

My breathing had finally evened out, but my mind was far from calm.

Seungmin’s voice still echoed in my head.

"You know… I thought you were stronger than this."

"That’s why you don’t fight back."

"You care too much."

I wanted to ignore it. Pretend like none of this happened.

But I couldn’t.

Because somehow, for the first time since this tour started, Seungmin didn’t sound like my enemy.

And that thought alone terrified me.

I exhaled, pressing the heels of my palms into my eyes.

I didn’t know how long I sat there, just thinking.

Minutes passed—maybe longer.

Eventually, my legs felt steady enough to move.

I pushed myself up, straightened my hoodie, and finally unlocked the door.

The hallway was empty now.

No one waiting.

No one lingering.

And yet, as I stepped out, the weight of what just happened still clung to me.

The venue had mostly cleared out by now—staff moving equipment, dancers heading back to their dressing rooms, the energy finally settling after the chaos of the night.

Seungmin was off to the side, stretching out his shoulders, his expression unreadable.

Jeongin had been watching him for a while.

And he was done staying quiet.

He stepped up beside him, arms crossed. "I know what you’re doing."

Seungmin barely glanced at him. "What are you talking about?"

Jeongin let out a sharp exhale through his nose, shaking his head. "You and Mira. You’ve been messing with her this whole time."

That got Seungmin’s attention.

His expression barely shifted, but Jeongin knew him too well to miss the way his jaw tensed.

Still, he played it cool. "You sound paranoid."

Jeongin huffed, not buying it for a second.

"You think I didn’t notice?" He tilted his head. "The mic feedback. The ‘accidental’ positioning mistakes. Mira shifting in formations just enough to throw Y/N off. You might think you're being slick, but I see it."

Seungmin’s hands curled into loose fists.

But Jeongin wasn’t finished.

"And tonight?" His voice lowered. "You let Mira take her spot. You watched her steal Y/N’s move. And you didn’t say a thing."

Seungmin’s eyes flickered, but he kept his face carefully blank.

Jeongin took a step closer. "Tell me this, hyung." His voice hardened. "At what point does it stop being funny?"

Silence.

For a moment, Seungmin didn’t respond.

Then—"It was never funny."

Jeongin’s brows furrowed. "Then why?"

Seungmin exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck, but he didn’t answer.

Because maybe—for the first time since this started—he wasn’t sure anymore.

Why had he gone along with Mira’s games?

At first, it was easy. It was just harmless frustration, just a way to get under Y/N’s skin—because she annoyed him, right?

That’s what he told himself.

But now?

After seeing her collapse on stage, after watching her lose everything she worked for while Mira stole her place without hesitation?

It didn’t feel like a game anymore.

And suddenly, he wasn’t so sure who the real problem was.

Taglist: @victoriaaf @mirophobic @minhosprettywife @peskybirdysya @littlewolfieposts

[bluephoenixprincess]

Courting Tournament: Spicynoodles edition~<3

and now to outline for you all here, the premise of a Courting Tournament fic i plan on Actually Writing.

So, its post Season 5, and for the moment at least, MKs hero life has slipped back into the comfortable rhythm of jobber demons causing trouble and MK stopping them, as many weak or low level demons get emboldened by the powerboost from the Pillar Stones.

But then things start getting weird. Slowly but surely the Various Demon attackers get less and less focused on whatever Mayhem or theivery or whatever they were up to and start focusing more and more on MK himself. Not in a "defeat you for glory way" either, in a much more uncomfortable way.

And if that werent bad enough, MK finds himself slipping into his Monkey form more and more often, thankfully without emotional distress or uncontrollable power outbursts, but it just keeps happening and MK still isnt very used to the form to begin with.

Mk being Mk of course tries to hide slash ignore these issues until he cant anymore. Culminating in a fight with a stronger than average demon who get MK on the back foot for a hot second and starts saying some very uncomfortable things about how he cant wait to take MK home and make him his little wife/husband/mate.

MK hearing that immediately goes monkey mode, puts that guy through several walls, and flies off to FFM to find out what the hell is going on.

And Like, MK knows about courtnapping, the basics at least, that demon tradition considers whisking away prospective mates and showing them how well you can protect them and provide for them the height of romance. A little weird but hey, humans have had some weird romance traditions as well.

But the realization that all the demons he's been fighting want to courtnap HIM? combined with the weird stuff going on with his monkey form? MK cant deal with this.

By the time he gets to Wukongs house he's crying and stuck in his monkey form with no idea what to do about everything. Wukong immediately bundles his successor onto the couch and, after a glass of water and some comforting fur grooming, manages to get out of him whats wrong.

Needless to say Wukong is Concerned and a bit miffed that MK didnt tell him or anyone else what was going on. But concern and caring for his crying student whos clearly stressed the fuck out now, lecturing later.

With his eyes of truth and maybe a magic test of some sort, Wukong discerns the cause of all the nonsense.

MKs body has Reached the demonic state of full maturity, which most notably includes the core of his magic fully maturing. Because of this, not only is he more or less stuck in Monkey form for awhile, but every demon for miles around can feel vibrant energy coming off him in waves.

And they want a peice of that.

So, Regardless of how widespread the knowledge of Sun Wukongs successor (and basically heir) was before, its spread to all corners of demon scociety now. And just like his mentor before him poor MK is getting swarmed.

MK is understandably upset by these revelations and may or may not start hyperventilating while trying to play it off and insist he can totally handle it. Wukong decides to call in the rest of the Monkie Kid Crew to come up with a plan.of action. Cause while MK could probably handle most of his suitors, he shouldnt have to.

Some explaining, arguing and tea brewing later the whole crew is gathered in Wukongs house, Mk cuddled up between Mei and Tang.

Options are gone through and discarded, letting MK just deal with them as they come is out. Wukong offers MK to stay on Flower Fruit mountain till the suitors get the hint and leave him be since thats what he ultimately did, but when asked how long that could take Wukong makes an uncomfortable noise and avoids eyecontact as he remembers it took over a century. So... no.

Eventually Wukong Sighs and brings up a solution he knows can deal with these types of situations, at least for awhile, If they Hold a Courting Tournament for MK, they can deal with all of his suitors at once and turn what could be months of headache into a couple weeks at most.

Theres a lot of yelling and explaining, and Wukong ultimately puts the decision in MKs hands. Mk thinks long an hard but ultimately decides a couple weeks/few days of being a spectacle is preferable to who knows how long of being harrassed.

"*sigh* Lets do the tournament thing"

~●~●~●~●~●~●~●~

So wheres Red Son in all this? At some big fancy Demon gala/festival thing with his parents, bored out of his mind and surrounded by people he mostly dislikes. As is typical for such gatherings.

He and his parents are there to shmooze, make alliances and work on properly reestablishing the Demon Bull Families influence in Demon high society.

Redson, after having one to many snide comments made his way about his families repeated defeats at the hands of Wukongs successor, is hiding in a corner sipping a drink waiting for the night to be over.

And definitely not thinking about how much he'd rather be hanging out with the Dragon Girl and Noodle Boy, especially Noodle boy.

Until the host of the event calls the whole rooms attention to make a big announcement. That theyve just recieved a messenger from Flower Fruit Mountain. The mere mention sends a stir through the crowd, the Monkey kinds been basically a reculse for the last several centuries so him sending out a message is big.

And it is big. As the announcement, to this gathering and all of the three realms, is that Wukong and company will be holding a Courting Tournament, no not for the Monkey king again, but for his Successor.

Red Son Drops his glass and cant even begin to care when it shatters on the floor.

~○~▪︎~○~▪︎~○~

Back with Monkie Kid Gang plans are being made.

Mei all but insists on being MKs Champion. And While MK is worried she might get hurt, Wukong swears to him that he as host will enforce Strict Rules to prevent such things.

Thus, the stage is set. I'll come back to this, but since i plan to write this as a full fic, i dont want yo spoil too much.

[huffelpuff210]

My girl Part 4

Mafia Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You get some bad news and decide to take things into your own hands, 

The next morning you are awoken to a loud knock to your apartment door, but the knocking sounded off, You open the door to see the manager hammering a note to your door, you look at the note confused, 

“You are upping my rent?” You asked before he could leave 

“Sorry, but I need the money too.” He says with a cigar in his mouth, 

“I can’t afford this.” You say 

“Not my problem.” He says walking away

You groan if you could�� you would live underground, 

You take a deep breath, picking up your cell phone, Calling Bruce to pick up a few extra hours he was happy to give them to you. 

You also applied for a part time job at a clinic, 

They wee happy to bring you on, 

…………..

The problem about working non stop to afford a crappy apartment is you were dead tired, actually scratch that you were exhausted, you have been at this for weeks, you were also mentally exhausted, you haven’t seen Bucky for weeks but only because of you working like an animal, 

You unlock your door entering your apartment when you shut the door a light is turned on, 

“It’s been a while doll.” You hear next to your ear you nearly jump out of your skin you right hook out of instinct but he caught it, you met his eyes 

“My god Bucky you trying to give me a heart attack?” You asked 

He chuckled 

“Nice right hook a little sloppy but still not too bad.” He says with your fist still in his hand, 

“Wait how the hell did you get in here?” You asked 

He finally lets go of your fist, 

“I have my ways.” He says 

“Now my question is where the hell have you been?” He asked his nose inches from yours his eyes scanning yours 

“Working.” You say 

“Really?’ He asked 

“I will explain if you let me change first.” You says 

He smirks 

“Okay doll take your time.” He says 

You nod making your way to the bedroom, 

Bucky was concerned, not only had you dropped off the grid, Bruce informed him that you picked up more hours and he also learned you got an extra job, 

When he snuck into your apartment he found not only you were not home yet, but he looked through the apartment seeing you barely had any food, bills piled up and your manager decided to up the rent to a insane amount for this dump, 

It pissed him off, here you were trying to make it by and this ass hole raises it, He could just go down there and kick the shit out of the dude, but he had a better idea but first he needed to work his charm he knew you were a proud woman who was used to being on her own, 

So he just needed to play his cards right, 

you exit your bedroom, in a pair of sweatpants and your old middle school jersey, your hair was up in a messy bun, 

“Sorry that took so long.” You say 

“Not at all doll, have a seat.” Bucky says motioning to the couch, 

You arched a brow not really sure what was going on, Bucky looked serious like something was wrong, 

“Is everything alright?” You asked looking at him 

He chuckled 

“I should be asking you that.” He says 

You tilt your head 

“Is there something you want to tell me?” He asked you 

“Huh?” You asked 

He showed you the rent, 

“How did you?” You asked 

“Like I said I have my ways.” He says smirking 

“Bruce also told me you picked up more hours, and you have an extra job.” He says 

“It’s my business it’s fine..” You say

“Your not fine your exhausted.” He says sternly 

You give him a look and he looks right back at you, 

He cups your cheeks with his large hand, 

“Let me help you doll, let me take care of you.” He says his voice stern 

“Just let me in.” He says you he can see you were hesitating 

And in one quick motion his lips connect with yours which took you by surprise you felt yourself break at that moment, the electricity and passion in the kiss had you wanting more you had never felt such a feeling you didn’t want that to end your arms wrapping around his neck, 

[imnoonejustapiramide]

Chapter four

Upon a Chance | A Sensei wolf (Cobra Kai) x OC (older, European exchange student from Miyagi-Do that has a past she's trying to run from)

Previous chapter

Entering a nearby local pub, they, with surprise, were met with quite an inviting atmosphere, where it wasn't crowded for one, the lights casted a low glow and slow music played in the background.

They ambled over towards the darkly polished wooden bar counter. Lena then turned an amused brow at the towering man beside her when the barman came over.

"Well Wolf, what will it be," She murmered at him, which he in answer shook his head at in quiet amusement, all the while he let out a low grumble, which made her quirk her lips, and her eyes spark with interest at the atttactive sound.

Which wasn't the only attractive thing about the man, but Lena shook her head at the thought then.

He turned his head to the awaiting barman and in fluent Catalan ordered a scotch, which the barman simply nodded to, before he turned to her.

"The same as him," She simply says, which made the man beside her look upon her in interest now as well,

"And you speak Catalan as well, aren't you full of surprises." he murmered in appreciation, which she shook her head at with a grin.

"Likewise, although, I'm a bit rusty in it." She tells him, all the while she turns her attention to the barman, who is serving their drinks in front of them.

Taking a hold of their glasses, they then clink them against each other in a toast.

"So, what brings you to Barcelona?" Wolf then asks after taking a sip of his glass, while he watches her do the same.

Lena raises her eyes towards him then,

"Just visiting, you?" she tells him, which he quirks his lips at- at the guardedness of her answer, at the challenge of it all, of letting her open up to him, that is.

"The same." He then answers with a teasing edge, before he continues.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?" He then asks her, changing the subject to an easier one, but also because he was truly curious.

For she was good, great even.

"From my mother, who learned it from her brothers and so on- it is expected to know how to defend oneself in our family. And you?" She then lets out, before she awaits his answer in interest.

"Self-taught you can say, before I came under the tutelage of a sensei who fine-tuned my skills. " He opened, before he then continued to explain his journey to her, without truly letting out things that are better left unsaid, for he didn't want her to fly away just yet, not when he finds himself already enamoured with her.

The conversation then flowed naturally, and endlessly from there, with laughter mixed within and their voices dropping lower the longer they spoke, and leaned towards each other.

Their gazes held heat within them when one looked upon the other, unnoticed by by no one, but themselves. All the while everything around them blurred in the background.

Lena then felt a buzz go off in her pocket, which broke the spell between them.

Glancing at her phone, she then sighed, especially when she looked at the time. For it was really late.

Looking up at Wolf, who without even knowing the answer- seemed to understand.

"You're leaving," He then remarked, his tone neutral, while he locked his eyes on hers.

Wanting it not to end, even though he wouldn't openly say it.

"I do, I'm sorry." She told him, without anything more to it, for she did only promise him a drink, and while she liked - this, she wasn't the type to go 'home' with strangers.

Even when she felt an undeniable spark between them, and it didn't help that the man was rather handsome.

Pulling the barman over for the check she then quickly tapped her card on the reader without giving Wolf the chance to intervene, the soft answering beep signified her victory, which she then smugly grinned at.

"I'm a woman of my word, I did say that the drink was on me, " She simply explained to her companion, which he only huffs at.

"Yes, but you didn't have to," He remarked, amused but also exasperated.

She then stood up, but quirked her brow in surprise when she watched him do the same.

"You don't have to," She tells him, which he shakes his head at with a scoff, before he gazes intently at her.

"I want to." He simply says, before he moves his hand towards the door,

"Shall we?"

Lena only nodded, before they both walked towards the door, with Wolf gentlemanly holding the door once more open for her, which she thanks him for.

She then stretches her limbs outside in the crisp night air, with the distant hum of the city being the only sound around.

"I had a surprisingly good time," She then admits, her voice now more quiet, which he smiles at with a nod.

"So did I," He replied, his voice low, while his gaze was heavy with unspoken words.

"I'm going to go now-" She then announces before she slowly turns to go, but he then quickly, yet softly holds onto her hand, which took her by surprise.

His hold on her was firm, she looks to their joined hands then, before she slowly lifted her gaze to his burning one.

"Will I see you again?" He then asks her in a whisper, with an unguarded emotion, for he didn't want this to end.

Not yet at least.

Lena then studies him for a moment before a soft smile then forms on her lips.

"If fate allows it," She tells him with mischief, which he parts his lips at, before it stretches into a smile of his own. A quiet challenge simmered in the depths of his gaze, before they darkened and smoldered.

And hers softened in response then, and despite not wanting to do anything with the man, as she had wanted at first- she couldn't help but be drawn in by him.

The tension was palable then, and then he kissed her.

It was quick, searing and yet- surprisingly soft, and it lasted an eternity to them, when it in fact had been only for a moment. Warmth spread through their chests, making their hearts beat as one, and by the time their lips parted, with their breaths mingled, and lingering, for both were reluctant for it to end.

But she had to end it, for nothing good could come from this- and neither did she deserve to have anything good, for that sort of happiness wasn't meant for the likes of her.

And with a lingering gaze, she then stepped away, and finally walked away.

And Feng only watched as she dissapeared into the night, like a dream he had just woken up from, but the tingling feeling from his lips, and his racing pulse was proof enough that it hadn't been one.

My poor girl 🥲

And boy, I didn't know that I was going to do this so soon- but they KISSED OMG

Were you as surprised as I was?! If so, let me know! And what did you think of it, and the story overall? Pls tell me, don't be a silent reader, it doesn't matter if its short or small, I'd love to know what you think and it also gives me a boost to continue writing ya know )) <3

[theesterianempire]

I'm Okay, Really - Spencer Reid x Y/N - Part Three

Chapter Three

Word count: 1014

Trigger Warnings: Eating disorders, anorexia, calorie counting, calorie tracking, bulimia and other eating disorders, fainting, hospitals.

Link to Previous Chapters:

Chaper One - https://www.tumblr.com/theesterianempire/776479578876182528/im-okay-really-spencer-reid-x-yn?source=share 

Chapter Two - https://www.tumblr.com/theesterianempire/776565555994951680/im-okay-really-spencer-reid-x-yn?source=share 

“Y/N… she… Yes I know… no, no… It’s fine, yes… okay… that’s fine… bye…”

“How…. Do…..”

“Sh… he… ncer…”

N…that…no…”

That’s all you could hear as you slipped in and out of consciousness, capturing small samples of conversations around you.  You recognised the voices but you couldn’t quite place any of them.

You felt someone take your hand and squeeze it lightly… it was comforting.  You felt them rubbing the back of it with their thumb, they didn’t let go.  They just held your hand as you lay there unable to move.

“Y/N… Y/…” A voice called, it belonged to a man.

You reached deeper, begging your eyes to open.  You were surprised when they complied and fluttered open.

“You’re awake,” Said the same voice, but now you could see it was Spencer.

Before you could say anything else Spencer stepped away and a lady reappeared in your line of sight.

“Hi, Y/N,” The lady spoke, “I’m just going to check a few things and then I’ll leave you to get some rest.”

She spoke gently as she made her way around you, coming in and out of your line of sight.

“What… what happened?” You ask, confusion setting in.

“Y/N, you’re in the hospital.” Spencer spoke slowly, “I found you unconscious in your car.”

“Oh…” Was all you could mutter.

“Okay,” The nurse filled the silence that had fallen over the room, “We saw your referral for an eating disorder clinic in your notes.  We can let you go home for now provided you attend the clinic appointment tomorrow at twelve.  If you believe for any reason you won’t attend we’ll be happy to keep you here and have a specialist come in tomorrow for the appointment.”

She explained.

“I’d like to go home.” You replied, before anyone had a chance to say anything.

“As long as you attend the appointment, I can sign you out now,” The nurse gave you a knowing look, as if she saw that you’d never attend that appointment.

“I’ll make sure she goes.” Spencer said, before you could speak again.

“Very well,” The nurse replied, “I’ll go and get the discharge documents and then you can leave.” With that, she left the room.

The nurse was quick to return with the papers that you were all too happy to sign.  Then she once again left, saying farewell.

“Right lets get you home,” Spencer said, passing your clothes to you so you could change out of your gown.

Once you were dressed you and Spencer made your way down to his car.  As you settled into the passenger seat he turned to you.

“Would you rather us stay at yours or mine?” He asked, nonchalantly,

“Us?” You asked confused,

“Well I said I’d get you to your appointment so I’m not going to leave you alone tonight.” Spencer explained as if it was obvious.

“I don’t need you to baby sit me,” You replied, annoyance playing on your tongue,

“I guess my place it is.” He responded, ignoring your annoyed comment.

You huffed out a sigh, knowing there was no point in arguing.  Plus you were so tired, you just wanted to sleep, you didn’t care where.

 When you got back Spencer guided you straight into his bedroom.

“What… why are we?” You began to question but he cut you off.

“You need some rest.” He simply said, as he gestured to his bed.

You took that as a signal to sit down.  Then you watched as he opened his wardrobe and pulled out a hoodie and some sweat pants.

“Here, put those on.” He handed them to you before turning to leave, “I’ll just be out here while you get changed.”

You didn’t argue, you didn’t have the energy to so instead you pulled off your t-shirt, pulling his hoodie on before standing to take off your suit pants and pull on his sweats.  You had to pull the cord and tie them extremely tight to get them to stay up and even then they were a little loose.  You glanced into his bedroom mirror to see how his clothes looked on you and a sick sense of satisfaction rose up inside of you at being drowned in his clothing.

Spencer gently knocked the door and re-entered the room.  He just stood there, looking at you for a moment.  Taking in how his clothes hung off you.  Sure, you were always smaller than him but they shouldn’t hang off you this much.  In this moment you looked so small and childlike. 

You slowly sat back down, a wave of dizziness lightly washing over you.  You sat taking deep breaths, looking at your lap while you waited for the wave to end.  Once it subsided you looked up at Spencer.

“Thank you, Spence,” You spoke barely above a whisper.

Spencer slowly walked over to you, sitting down next to you.

“It’s okay, Y/N.” He smiled, gently,

“No… it’s not.” You slowly turned your body to face him, he followed suit doing the same. “I… my emotions…”

“Y/N, please,” He stopped, “You don’t need to explain yourself to me.  Just please, let me be there for you.  That’s all I want.”

You wanted to say something but you couldn’t find the words so instead you moved to hug Spencer.  Surprisingly he let you.  He wrapped his arms around you, holding you firmly but almost as if he was holding back, as if you could break at any second from too much pressure.

As he held you he could feel the way your spine protruded and how small and thin your arms were.  He took note of the way you gripped him as if your life depended on it but how weak your grip actually was.

It scared him… you scared him… he was so worried about you but he didn’t know what he could do.  For now, all he knew was that he had to get you to that appointment tomorrow and be there for you every step of the way.

[pzos-amiserableidiot]

Okay so I’ve tried looking and maybe I’m just bad at finding where everyone else in love with this niche is hiding but like. Carlton Lassiter/Burton Guster from Psych (2006) is an underrated ship. Like I thought maybe in the OT4 people would utilize their dynamic a bit more but no!! They’ll do literally every combo of the ship and leave Gus and Lassie like… never or barely interacting?!? And I’m like guys!!!! There’s so much to be used between those two!!!!

- they both are looking for commitment

- They both are really weird about their cars

- The tap dancing episode!!

- Gus being more serious but still going along with Shawn’s antics. Could help Lassie loosen up a little

- Carlton being more serious and reliable and while weird Gus has his own quirks and is best friends with Shawn. I highly doubt Lassie’s own interests would be much of a turn off.

- I truly think Gus would freak out and go even harder on his ‘Lassie is weird’ thing, trying to get rid of his crush by spending more time with Carlton, being horrified he’s finding his quirks endearing. To the giving in a flirting.

- I think Lassie wouldn’t be as horrified more just ‘really?????? Idiot #2??????’

Like yeah there will definitely be issues like Lassiter always putting his work first and staying late but they’re both romantics and Gus will follow Shawn and like listen. They’d have to work through a lot but so does literally every other pair in the OT4!!!! So I don’t see these as bad things just issues to play with!! Fun angst!!

Maybe I’m not explaining this well at all but I truly think Gus/Lassie is a such a fun little rare pair and underrated dynamic. A lot of what makes Shawn/Gus (specifically not wanting to mess up the current dynamic and one dragging the other into antics) and Gus/Jules (strangers to coworkers to friends to lovers) and Shawn/Lassiter (idiots and denial and fuck ur hot why are you hot) such fun and interesting pairs is what makes Gus/Lassiter fun too!! Strangers to enemies(?) to coworkers to friends to lovers! Denial! Angst! Internal crises!! It’s just so good and I want more.

To further the Gus/Lassiter agenda I recommend the following two fics to everyone. Both are on ao3.

i wanna wake up with your weight by my side by under_the_silk_tree

A Gus sick fic where Lassie has to take care of Gus. Very cute. 8k+ words. One shot

Last Week Gus by under_the_silk_tree

The tags and summary kinda give it away but it’s so !!!!!!! 3k+ words. One shot

[urween]

Bloody Lamb | Bucky Barnes x ftm!reader | english version

summary: Bucky would never have imagined that his neighbor was carrying a heavy load on his shoulders. However, he discovers scars on the latter, and thus his vision changes radically.

notes: the temporality is located in a mix of beginning and end of FATWS series; reader operated on the torso

⚠︎ warnings: strong mention/description of mutilation and scars, mention of dysphoria, traumas linked to Hydra

special thanks and credits to @sparrow-the-tired-lesbian who nicely helped me with this story's translation because it was originally written in french, my native language.

french version here

- 1 804 words - 2nd person description

You were just next-door neighbors. He knew you by sight, knew how to define your silhouette and your height, as he could do with his other neighbors. Maybe he also recognized your voice when it echoed in the common corridor, like when Mrs. Jones shouted at her cats running away on the landing. He knew you without knowing you, that fine line that separated so many things and that was not held by anything. Maybe an insistent look from you would turn the weather vane, maybe not. But he knew all his neighbors because whether he wanted to or not he retained the information that emerged from individuals. A soldier had to be able to identify his victims in a crowd. He kept marks, more or less deep cracks that interfered with his daily life. If he hadn’t been the Winter Soldier, surely his mind would never have noticed Mrs. Jones’ slight limp, the smell that came out of Larry’s every Tuesday night, or the particular timbre of your voice. But he did it with everyone, you weren’t special. It would have been special if he could recognize the shoes you wore based on the wet marks left on your soles, the habit you had of always putting your cell phone in your left pocket, or the song you’d been listening to on repeat for the past few days. Then, you would have been special. More than a neighbor on the landing, you could have been his little obsession, the main object of a tease from his friend Sam for example. But that wasn’t the case until now.

“I’m lucky to have you,” the old man murmured.

Yori Nakajima was the neighbor you got along with best. Funny, sweet, and welcoming, you immediately felt at ease with him. Brooklyn was a big city and you had only been here for a short time, so Yori had helped you get familiar with the surroundings. In exchange, you would go see him once or twice a week. You talked most of the time, he would tell you about his youth and the kindness of his late son, and sometimes he would even teach you how to play Go.

"You have more and more fans," you smiled, pointing to a bouquet in the corner of the living room.

As he had done with you, Nakajima often helped young people who were a little lost. He gave them the support they needed so that they could then explore the city on their own. Over the years, he ended up having a small reputation in the neighborhood, and many of his old friends still came to visit him.

"These are irises, my favorite," he explained to you, "a neighbor brought me some this morning."

You leaned over to the coffee table to pour yourself some more tea. The wafting scent of the flowers reached you as you let your back rest against the back of the chair again.

"I thought you had a girlfriend."

Yori chuckled as much as his great age allowed him, nodding to thank you for the tea.

"I'm quite alone, and you and the others keep me company," he confided to you before changing the subject, "but I had an idea about that."

You saw the question coming before the old man could even open his mouth again.

"No, no lovers for me Yori, I already told you," you sighed with a smile.

"You're going off on a tangent right away, who told you I was going to talk about love?” He explained to get your attention again, “I simply think it would be good for you to make friends, and the young man I'm talking about would be a great match for you."

He had been trying for two or three weeks to get you to meet new people because according to him you were too lonely. However, you had explained to him the reasons for this social distancing, he had understood, while suffering too. But he said that time always healed wounds and smoothed out the deep cracks, that you had to open yourself up to life to enjoy it. You understood that, really, but the stability you had finally managed to find couldn't be destroyed, you didn't want to have to rebuild everything.

“You two look a lot alike,” Yori’s wise voice echoed one last time, “hiding in your burrows.”

They weren't fluorescent, or noisy. They didn't attract attention, going unnoticed. Yet one glance at them and the decibels in the room exploded for you. In the past, you would never have imagined that scars could be so talkative. But they were, they proudly recounted their heavy sorrows to remind you that nothing was ever acquired. Everything could disappear overnight, everything could collapse in a fraction of a second. One wrong step, and you would fall back. The wrong person and all your efforts would be reduced to nothing. Living alone wasn't easy every day, but this way you avoided mistakes. No one could predict the reaction of a stranger, while yours was controllable. You knew what not to do, not to mention, the others didn't know it and by the time they understood it could already be too late.

Yori knew about your operation, he knew that you had two beautiful scars on your chest, but it had taken time. It had taken you time. The old man didn't know more, he guessed the darkness that you kept to yourself but he knew someone else in your case, and talking about it didn't always help. Other people knew about your trans identity, you couldn't hide it and you didn't want to anyway. But it remained there, no one went beyond that barrier.

It had also taken you time to let your other scars out in the open. But you quickly realized that no one noticed them. They weren't fluorescent or noisy to them. Hidden on your thighs, dull enough that a curious eye would simply think they were stretch marks. Who would have paid attention? For this reason, you could once again appreciate any clothing revealing these marks. You could wear a simple t-shirt or sweatshirt as pajamas with boxers, and take out the trash in this outfit. You rarely ran into anyone, and even if you did, they didn't pay attention.

However, you didn't expect to come face-to-face with your neighbor on the landing. A man – quite attractive, it had to be admitted – about your age who had a mysterious aura around him since you arrived, as well as gloves. You suspected Yori of wanting to set you up with him, that it was the famous "young man with irises". He came to see your friend very often, you had even crossed paths with them at the bar downstairs from your place the other day. Barnes, that was his name, you had read it on the mailbox next to yours. You didn't know anything more about him and it had never bothered you.

"Good evening,” your neighbor's grainy voice echoed.

You smiled at him, murmuring a polite formula in return, as the rules of society required. With your trash bag in hand, you opened the brown storage lid before throwing your waste in. You didn't expect anything else, there was nothing more to expect, you didn't know each other. So you turned around, smiling at him kindly before closing the exterior door of the building.

But he didn't move, his eyes fixed on the void that a few seconds before had been filled by your thighs. You had scars.

Overnight, you became special. He recognized your footprints, your habits, and your songs. His ears picked up without his consent the slightest noises that passed through the barrier of the walls separating you.

Bucky had seen many scars, first as an American soldier, then as the Winter Soldier. The memories had taken time to come back but those linked to Hydra had never left. Eyelids closed, he still saw those distorted smiles, those pulsing veins. He still saw all those innocents repatriated to these basements as he had been, he saw them gradually lose hope. He still saw the last traces of life leave their lively eyes, he still heard their screams. Closing his eyes, he imagined himself again lying on the camp bed that had been assigned to him. He could imagine again the thoughts that crossed his mind, the last ones seeming to belong to him. I hope they die, he said to himself at the time, regarding his future peers, I hope they never see what I see. Death was a beautiful escape from the prisons of Hydra. If he could have, he would have succumbed to it, but he had been too precious.

He had seen many scars, but never like yours. A torn face, a leg in pieces, or a dog bite were endured, not chosen.

The metal weapon that served as his arm had not been chosen by him at the start. The red star that had adorned it had been imposed on him. The arm he wore today had been chosen by him, but the wound that caused it was nothing but torture. Whether it was an accident or a voluntary act, scars had never been anything but torture in his eyes. Why inflict them on ourselves? Why cut our flesh with our own hands?

They were dull, almost completely blending into your skin, but he had seen them. They had jumped out at him.

He wasn't a nurse, much less a doctor, but he knew how to recognize these kinds of things. It wasn't a cat or some accident that had caused these marks, it was you alone. The place, the depth, the angle. It was mutilation, and he had strangely never seen that.

By dint of seeing only horrors, deaths, attacks, and more, Bucky ended up forgetting the others. Those who suffered without showing it, who cried in silence. Not everyone had an arm missing or purple skin to show their misfortunes. He had the example of Yori, but he had never noticed that in you. Unconsciously, he liked imagining a happy being living next to him, maybe you could have contaminated him? But he forgot that even the gentlest of lambs had suffered.

He wanted to get to know you, he needed to know you

images : Pinterest

dividers : @/thecutestgrotto, @/strangergraphics and @/pommecita

[savannagonemad]

savior // part 1/2

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angst 💔 (part 1/2)

warnings: death & description of injuries

kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

wordcount: 4.4k

author's note: wow so this got a lot longer than i anticipated... i have to split it up into two parts ✨ i'm in love with this concept and i will get part two out asap!! part two will be more angst-focused so keep an eye out for it! this kind of serves as the prelude to the events that follow! i hope you enjoy it!!! 💚✨

~~~💚💚💚~~~💚💚💚~~~💚💚💚~~~

"attention players. the next game will begin shortly. please choose one of the numbered vests you see in front of you."

you paid close attention to the announcement, your mind racing as you looked at each of the vests. four other players raced forward and chose the middle ones first, prompting more players to do the same. you hung back, still unsure what to choose, though your options were severely limited now that everything from the middle was taken.

unsure, you looked over at your friend sae-byeok, who was weighing her options.

you had met sae-byeok after red-light green-light, where you watched her cleverly use one of the larger players as a shield. you spoke with her briefly after you both crossed the finish line, though you quickly split apart as you went back to the dorms.

after over 200 players were "eliminated", a vote to end the games was called. tragically, the majority voted to stay (by five votes) so you were stuck in this nightmare. you played in dalgona alone and fought your way through the brawl that occurred at lights-out. by this point, you realized you couldn't do this alone, so you sought out the only person you knew, even if you only knew her slightly. she seemed to realize she was going to need an ally too, so you stuck together, slowly bonding.

tug of war was easy with that old man on your team, he had some kind of cheat code to win and you got to pass easily with sae-byeok. at marbles, you wanted to pair up with her, but she stopped you.

"no. something feels off. find someone else to partner with for this one, it'll be less risky."

you wanted to argue but someone else took her as a partner so you didn't get the chance to.

you were grateful for her foresight as your own partner was executed in front of you after you took his last marble.

all that brought you to this moment. you tapped on sae-byeok's arm, and she looked at you.

"what should we do?" you asked anxiously, and you felt the fear of what the next game could be creeping into your mind. sae-byeok, however, was calm and collected.

"we should pick a number together. the later ones, that way we can potentially see what it is before we play."

"but what if we have to fight each other like last time?" you worried, not wanting to be responsible for her death.

"i doubt they'd do three games where we directly battle each other in a row. we just did tug of war and marbles. i'm betting it'll be something solo like dalgona or a collective game like red-light green-light," she analyzed, sounding confident, though her body language said she wasn't nearly as confident as she was pretending to be.

you nodded at her, trusting her judgement - it was right in marbles after all - and the two of you stepped forward, choosing the numbers 15 and 16.

the guards took you all to the game room where you saw a bridge made of 18 pairs of glass tiles. you had no idea what you were looking at, and you were about to ask the nearest guard when the announcer started speaking.

"attention players, the game you will be playing today is glass bridge..." the announcer said, and you listened closely as the rules were explained.

you were suddenly extremely grateful you and sae-byeok were going last.

you looked towards the front of the line, where a player with the number 456 was looking between the two tiles. he jumped to the first tile and it held, and a few of the other players cheered him on. nervously, he jumped to the second tile.

you looked away as the glass broke underneath him and he fell to his death, screams echoing through the game hall on the way down.

"player 456, eliminated," the announcer's voice rang out.

you stood back on the safety of the platform as more and more players went, each of their deaths causing you to cling to sae-byeok a little more.

in front of you, the player who picked number 14 - player 218 - was muttering to himself. you tapped on his shoulder, causing him to turn around.

"what?" he asked, looking down at you and sae-byeok.

"what do you think are the chances that we make it through this one?" you ask him, stepping back into sae-byeok for security slightly as his tall frame intimidated you. you asked him because you heard player 456 going on and on about how he graduated top of his class from some college, so you figured he was smart.

another player fell through the glass, her screams ending abruptly as she hit the ground. you flinched.

"i don't know for sure, but i'd assume it's over 90%," he said. "even if every player before us falls on the tile they step on, that would leave us with just five tiles left. and every player should make it through two tiles on average. our odds are good," he said, promptly turning around.

he didn't acknowledge your meek "thank you."

his words eased your mind slightly, but adrenaline was still in full force.

eventually, it came time for you to start jumping across the bridge to the tiles that other players already revealed. your heart raced at each jump, you wishing on each star in the universe that you or sae-byeok wouldn't miss the jumps.

as another two players fell to their deaths, you looked back at sae-byeok, making sure she was still there. she nodded at you and gently told you to keep going, pointing at the clock. she was right, time was running out.

eventually, it was just you, sae-byeok, player 218, and another player who refused to jump at the last panel. player 218 didn't give it a second thought and pushed him into one of the panels, making him crash through it and fall to his death. player 218 jumped to the safety platform on the other side and turned around to watch you and sae-byeok.

you looked up at the timer. 30 seconds left. you looked at him, uneasy. you just watched him push someone off, who says he won't do the same to you?

as if reading your mind, he held his hands up and stepped backwards. "i'm not going to push you," he assured you.

you quickly jumped across to the safety platform, sae-byeok following behind you. you looked up at the timer as sae-byeok made the final jump.

you three had made it with 4 seconds to spare.

relief had just begun to wash over you when the timer hit zero. you turned back to look at the bridge just in time to catch it as the panels began to explode one by one. instinctively you turned away and shielded your face, flinching and hissing in pain as you felt shards of glass cut into your exposed hands. you heard similar sounds from player 218, and you heard sae-byeok yelp in pain as she presumably was hit with the glass like you were.

as the explosions finished, you felt sae-byeok grip onto your shoulder. you slowly lowered your hands and looked over them. there were a few cuts, but nothing major. you turned to sae-byeok and saw her doubled over in pain, one hand clutching her side as she held onto you for support.

"are you okay?" you asked, suddenly very concerned.

"i'm... i'm fine," she hissed out through her teeth. "just.. give me a second."

you nodded to her with compassion, allowing her to hold onto you for as long as she needed. player 218 looked on, his eyes darkening slightly, though you didn't notice as you were too busy worrying about sae-byeok.

one of the staff members with a square on their mask stepped forward. "players, please come with me back to your quarters." the masked person turned and unlocked the door, opening it to reveal the intricate layout of hallways and stairs that you had become so familiar with.

player 218 followed the staff member closely without a word or a second glance back at the two of you. a second staff member came through the door - this one with a triangle mask, and approached the two of you.

"move," he said, reaching for his gun to threaten the both of you.

"we gotta go back, sae-byeok. will you be alright?" you asked, looking down at where she was holding onto her side in pain. she looked up at you, her breathing labored, and shook her head, her face telling you that she was in a lot of pain.

"move or you will be eliminated," the guard demanded.

"hold onto my shoulder, i'll help you get back," you told sae-byeok. she stood up as straight as she could and wrapped her arm around your shoulders, leaning half of her weight onto you for support. you stumbled at first, but you held onto her waist securely and the two of you began slowly making your way back to the bunks, the guard trailing behind you silently.

sae-byeok grimaced and hissed in pain with each step, limping even though you were supporting her.

"we're almost there, sae-byeok. you'll be okay." you told her, hoping your comforting words would make the pain a bit easier to manage. she just nodded in response.

the two of you eventually made it back, slowly but surely. player 218 was already there and sitting on his bed. he lifted his head as the two of you walked in, and you saw him examine sae-byeok, clearly noting that she was hurt. you glared at him as if daring him to try to do anything to her.

the doors to the players' quarters opened suddenly, causing sae-byeok to flinch and lean against you for support even more.

"it's okay," you whisper to her. "i've got you."

one of the square guards walked into the room, followed by several triangle guards. you three looked towards them as you had done for many games prior, and the square guard began his speech.

"you have made it through another game in the series. my congratulations to you all. as a token of our appreciation, please change into the new uniforms our staff will provide you with and make your way back here."

two triangle guards approached you and sae-byeok, each of them carrying a gift box which looked like a smaller version of the coffins the "eliminated" players were always carried away in.

you took both of the boxes, sae-byeok's hands a bit occupied at the moment. you looked over at player 218 and saw he was given an identical gift box.

one of the triangle guards led you and sae-byeok to the door to go to the bathrooms so you could change. you helped sae-byeok over to the door, her leaning more and more weight on you as time passed. you could feel her grip weakening slightly.

"hold out for me, sae-byeok. i can't lose you now," you murmured to her. she didn't respond, unable to speak through the pain.

the guard unlocked the door and led you to the bathroom door, opening it for the both of you and stepping aside, allowing you to enter before closing it behind you.

as soon as you both were in the bathroom, you led sae-byeok over to a sink so she could lean on it for support. she took her hand off your shoulder and placed it on the sink, you still holding her waist for reassurance.

"i'm going to let go of you now, okay? can you stand?" you asked her, your voice as calm as you could force it to be. internally, you were terrified for her.

sae-byeok slowly nodded her head, so you gently released her waist, and she leaned against the sink. you immediately went in front of her, setting the two gift boxes on the sink as well for the moment. your attention turned to where she was clutching her side. you noticed her shirt was stained with red near the area and your heart rate doubled.

"let me see," you said gently, softly taking her wrist and pulling her blood-soaked hand away. her shirt was torn underneath where her hand was, and a steady stream of blood was flowing out and getting soaked into her shirt, making it impossible to see the actual wound.

"holy shit," you muttered. if this was the amount of blood she was losing, she didn't have long.

you immediately pulled off your player jacket, gently lifting the side of sae-byeok's shirt and holding your jacket to the wound. sae-byeok flinched and hissed in pain.

"be careful," she muttered, the words difficult to understand as she spoke through gritted teeth.

"sorry." you wiped the blood away and pulled the jacket back to look at the wound. it was a nasty cut running diagonally along her side. more blood immediately replaced that of which you had just cleared away.

"is it bad?" sae-byeok asked, looking down at it but not getting a clear view.

"a bit, but it's not too deep. just a gash. we can get you patched up, but you're losing a good amount of blood."

sae-byeok nodded, trusting you. she didn't have many more options at the moment. you helped her get her jacket off and you folded it a few times, then you held it against her cut as a sort of bandage. you took your jacket and tied it around her to hold it in place.

"grab my shoulder. i need to tighten it, this will probably hurt," you told her gently. she nodded and held onto your shoulder, her hand gripping it tightly.

you pulled on the sleeves of your jacket, tightening the knot around her. she hissed and instinctively held onto your shoulder tighter, her nails digging into your skin slightly.

"sorry," you apologized quickly, feeling bad for hurting her.

"it's fine," she replied, catching her breath. "thank you."

her voice was uneven as she spoke, which was unlike her. you looked up at her in concern and saw a single tear rolling down her cheek.

"honey," you murmured, your hands going to her shoulders. she looked into your eyes, and for the first time since meeting her, you saw emotion in them. "what's wrong? is it too tight? does it hurt? i can loosen it a bit if you need me to."

she shook her head, another tear falling from her eye. "i... i won't make it through another game. not like this." she whispered, fear and sadness in her voice.

you gently wrapped her arms around her and pulled her into a soft hug. she wrapped her arms around you as well, weakly hugging back. sae-byeok leaned her head on your shoulder and you could feel her fighting back tears.

"you'll make it out of here. i promise," you comforted her, the words causing her to let out a sob.

"no i won't. i'm going to die in this place. it's all been for nothing," she whimpered in a pained voice, which broke your heart.

"honey, you're making it out of this. i know it," you whispered to her, softly rubbing her back.

she didn't say anything and she didn't have to. her soft cries were enough to communicate exactly what she was feeling to you. you held her for several minutes, knowing that she needed your support more than anything right now.

you eventually felt her arms leave your back and you did the same, pulling away slowly. you reached out and wiped her tears off her cheeks. she looked back at you, pain and fear filling her eyes.

"let's call a vote," you whispered to her. "it's two against one."

her eyes widened slightly, as she hadn't even considered that to be a possibility. "w.. what? but the money-"

"i don't care about the money. you're worth more than any amount they could give me," you told her confidently.

she didn't know what to say to that, and that was fine with you. you didn't know what to say to that either. you didn't even think about it, your words just came out, which told you that you really meant it.

you picked up the gift boxes that the guard handed you and set them on the sink next to the one sae-byeok was leaning on. you turned on the sink for her, motioning down at it.

"wash that blood off your hands," you instructed. she took a shaky breath in and nodded, running her hands under the water.

while sae-byeok was cleaning herself up, you turned your attention to the gift boxes. you picked one of them up and opened it, revealing what looked to be some kind of suit with your player number on it - 033.

"i guess they want us to wear these," you said to sae-byeok, lifting yours out of the box. as you held it up to get a better look at it, a steak knife fell out of it, clattering down against the sink. both you and sae-byeok jumped at the sudden noise.

"what the heck..?" you muttered to yourself, reaching forward and grabbing it. you looked to sae-byeok with your knife still in hand, wondering what this was all about. she looked down at the knife and then back up at you, uncertainty creeping into her eyes as she shrunk back slightly.

"hey, hey, i'm not going to hurt you," you comforted her, setting the knife down on the sink carefully. "not after everything we've been through."

sae-byeok let out a shaky exhale - you didn't even notice that she was holding her breath.

"sorry," she mumbled, looking down.

you turned to the other gift box and opened it, reaching inside the suit labeled 067 and finding an identical knife. in clear view of sae-byeok, you slowly place it in your hands so that the blade was facing you, holding it out to her for her to take.

"for security," you told her as she took it and slipped it into her pocket. you knew that even though you had no intentions to attack her, her having a way to defend herself in case you did would ease her worries a bit. you placed your own knife into your pocket and closed both gift boxes.

"don't they want us to put those on?" sae-byeok spoke up, not wanting to risk breaking any rules.

"probably, but we're going to march out there and demand a vote anyway. it doesn't matter." you held your hand out to sae-byeok to assist her in getting back to the dorm room. she ignored your hand and immediately held onto your shoulders like before, and you automatically put your arm around her waist without thinking about it.

sae-byeok clinged onto you for support as you walked back into the room, her grimacing with every step. you helped her over to her bed against the wall and sat her down in it. she collapsed against the bed, almost completely out of energy. you looked around the room and didn't see player 218, and you figured he must still be changing.

"hold out a little longer for me," you murmured to sae-byeok. "we're almost out of here."

sae-byeok just weakly nodded in response.

the square guard was waiting for everyone to arrive. upon seeing that you and sae-byeok emerged without your suits on, he began to approach you. you were a step ahead of him and approached him yourself, causing him to place a hand on his revolver on his belt.

"relax, i'm not going to stab you," you muttered to him.

"this is against the rules," he informed you. "you must wear your uniforms."

you looked him directly in where his face should be. "consent form clause three. players may vote to end the games at any time."

the guard paused for a moment, seeming to process your words. "that is correct."

"i want to call a vote," you said, hoping that he would let you.

after a few long moments, he took out a walkie-talkie and spoke into it. "player 33 wants to vote to end the games."

as he was listening for a response, he turned his head slightly to look over at sae-byeok's bed.

"yeah, i'm voting with her, genius," you said, irritated.

the guard didn't respond, keeping his attention on the bed. you looked over to see what was so exciting over there and your heart rate immediately increased as you saw player 218, now suited, approaching sae-byeok, knife in hand. sae-byeok was completely unaware, her eyes closed.

adrenaline coursed through your veins as you drew your own knife and rushed towards him. he heard your footsteps approaching and looked towards you just in time to quickly duck out of the way as you slashed at his throat, the air whooshing around your knife as it soared through the air. he stepped back in shock and you took the opportunity to get between him and sae-byeok.

"don't you dare hurt her," you growled at him, your knife held out in front of you.

his eyes darkened as he took a step forward, raising his knife to meet yours. your heart raced in your chest as you stared him down, preparing mentally to defend everything you care about. as he was about to charge you, he was slammed by one of the triangle guards and knocked to the ground. you looked down at him, his eyes wide with confusion and anger.

"since when is killing each other not allowed, huh?!" he barked at the guard, who had their rifle aimed at him threateningly.

"player 33 wants to vote to end the games," the guard told him. "we will not allow any acts which impede this democratic process."

"what?!" he shouted at you. "now?! after everything, you want to throw it all away now?!"

you looked behind you at sae-byeok, then back to him. "yes," you said, malice towards him dripping from your voice. "for her, i do."

before long, the three of you had your knives taken away and you were lined up, a triangle guard still positioned with their gun trained on player 218. sae-byeok was forced to stand up and she held onto you for support like before, you holding as much of her weight as you could. a circle guard brought out the voting machine as the screen above changed to show the voting screen.

O : 0 | X : 0

the square guard looked at the three of you. "we will conduct the vote in descending player order. if you would like to continue playing, press the "O" button. if you would like to stop playing, press the "X" button. player 218, please cast your vote now."

player 218 cast a death glare at both of you as he walked by, followed by the triangle guard. he approached the machine and slammed his hand down on the "O" button.

O : 1 | X : 0

"player 67," the square guard called out as 218 made his way back to where you both were standing. you began to move forward with sae-byeok, but the triangle guard stopped you.

"only one player may go at a time."

you glared at them before turning to sae-byeok. "can you make it up there alone?" you asked her, worried.

"i'll... i'll be fine," she said. "if it means we can get out of here, i can do it."

you nodded at her before slowly removing your support from her. she grunted in pain as she had to support her own full weight, but slowly began making her way up to the machine, tightly gripping her side as she limped. eventually she made it to the machine, stumbling and catching herself on it. without hesitation, she placed her hand on the "X" button and pressed down on it.

O : 1 | X : 1

"player 33," the square guard called out as sae-byeok limped back to where you were. she approached her bed and leaned on it, relieving her slightly. you turned and began to approach the machine, hurrying so sae-byeok didn't have to suffer longer than necessary. as you made it up to the buttons, you could feel sae-byeok's eyes locked onto you.

you turned your head up to look at the golden piggy bank above you, full of an amount of money which would be life-changing. then you looked at the two players at the far side of the room. player 218 refused to look at you as his eyes were locked onto the voting screen. you saw sae-byeok silently pleading with you, her body language tense and stressed.

"no," you muttered to yourself, turning back to the buttons. "she won't die because of me."

your hand curled into a fist and you slammed it down onto the "X" button, just to spite 218.

O : 1 | X : 2

"the majority has voted to end the games," the square guard announced. "please wait while we arrange your departure."

relief washed over you as you realized that they would actually let you go home. you quickly made your way back to sae-byeok, ignoring 218's glare. you pulled her into a hug as she wrapped her arms around you as well.

"we made it," you whispered to her. "we're going home."

her felt her shoulders shaking as she began to lightly sob.

"thank you... so much..." she said softly as she held onto you, crying in your arms. nobody had ever cared about her like that before.

you held her and comforted her until you were separated by two soldiers. they escorted each of you to a van which brought you here, both of you getting in. you reached out for sae-byeok as soon as you were inside, sae-byeok immediately going over to you and pulling you into a side-hug, resting her head on your shoulder. you gently wrapped your arm around her and pulled her closer.

"are you feeling okay?" you asked her, concerned. she had been made to walk to the van on her own and you could see her struggling.

"i'll manage..." she breathed, the pain dimming now that she wasn't supporting herself anymore. you could see her drifting off to sleep already and you didn't object - the poor girl had been through a lot and she definitely needed and deserved the break.

the last thing you saw as the sleep gas began to pour into the back of the van was sae-byeok, and then it was darkness.

~~~💚💚💚~~~💚💚💚~~~💚💚💚~~~

don't worry lovelies, this story doesn't end here! this is just a part one, part two comes out tomorrow!! 💚✨ i will replace this text with the link once it's up!!

[phoebepheebsphibs]

The last thing Chaplin knew, he had been dosed with some kind of poison that killed the alien infection. But then the irritating little mutant pushed him off the roof. He remembered falling, he remembered losing his breath as his body sped towards the pavement and the wind ripped any air he had from his lungs. He could even recall the vicious sound of his body smacking against the earth. He remembered a searing pain, a literally gut-wrenching feeling as his form rag-dolled and twisted in broken ways, and blood pouring from every inch of himself. But it barely lasted even half a moment before it went black, then white, then here. He couldn’t remember dying, if he did. But he definitely recalled coming back to life. Maybe this was death, a purgatory surrounded by the things he hated and forced to be consumed by the alien parasite again. But at least now he could control it, subduing it and hiding it under the surface. Mostly. A few eyes could not be contained, a few spikes and bulging veins were exposed.

But more importantly, more crucial… he could exact revenge.

The mutants would die for what they did to him. MIKEY would be saved the worst death possible.

If he could even find him in this mess. It was proving difficult.

He’d tried to keep it simple, make himself look innocent. But if he got too… shall we say, ‘energetic’, his true colours would show and people would run away screaming.

He’d managed to track the creature down to, of all things, a daycare. Inside there were plenty of babies and young children. Some were playing, others were sleeping. Chaplin tested something.

The broken headset which had become fused to his skull began to glow. Flickering pink lights that blinked out a subliminal message to a very special recipient.

“Excuse me, can I help you?” A woman asked. She approached him cautiously from the daycare.

Chaplin smiled at her, and explained his situation, along with a proposal if she did not cooperate.

The Mama Bear’s hand glowed golden, a fiery rolling pin flew to her side.

“Sorry, I teach my kids not to talk to strangers, so you’ll have to leave. And I’m afraid only designated legal guardians can enter here.”

“Oh, then I can come in!” Chaplin chuckled. “He’s my property.”

“He IS NOT—”

Suddenly, one of the children shrieked. A small group rushed out of the nap room, followed by a much taller and ganglier mutant teen. His eyes were lazy and glossed over, half-open at that, and the way he lumbered across the floor indicated that he was asleep when the message came through. He was still asleep now, which worked in Chaplin’s advantage. He wasn’t sure if Mikey would have succumbed to his commands if he’d been awake and aware.

“Ahhh, there you are,” Chaplin exhaled. “Let’s go, Mikey. We have work to do.”

Mikey leisurely began to walk over, his tail dragging behind him.

“Mikey, no! What are you doing?! Wake up, sweetheart, wake up!”

Mikey couldn’t seem to hear her. His eyes kept slipping shut.

Julia turned and glared at the krangified man.

“Kids,” she announced sternly. “Take cover.”

The children hid.

Julia swung her rolling pin at the man, knocking him back and undoing his concentration. Mikey’s walk paused in his track. Chaplin roared at her, and pulled one of his many fists back to retaliate before she gave another mighty blow.

“You’re not getting anyone!!” Julia bellows, whacking him over and over again. “Especially not that sweet little boy you tortured!”

Chaplin smiled.

“Sweet? Care to repeat that?”

The lights on his head blinked again.

Mikey seemed to come back to life and was at their side in an instant.

“This feral monster is not a sweet baby boy as you are so inclined to believe,” Chaplin growled, a fanged smile pressed against his foul face.

Mikey dug his teeth and claws into Julia’s arm. She stifled a scream, biting her lip until it too bled. She ignored the pain and put all her force and energy into her ninpo. She clutched her rolling pin tight, a burst of golden fire igniting as she reeled back and swung.

“He’s my baby boy,” she growled before the impact. “And I will NOT allow you to make him a monster.”

Chaplin was struck square in the jaw before getting blown across the compound.

Mikey released almost immediately and subsequently seemed to faint, crumbling like a sack of wet sand at her feet. Julia dropped her pin and cradled the teen with one arm. She had to work fast.

“Do any of you kids have a phone? A magic envelope or something?”

A shrimp Yokai flittered up to her with a glowing scroll and pen.

“Will this work?”

“Yes! Thank you. Quick, write a message to Luke and tell him that the daycare was attacked. Tell him to be careful of a man named Chaplin, and to come back here as soon as he can.”

The shrimp scribbled every word down before rolling the parchment up. A mystical thread tied itself around the paper and then it vanished in a sparkle and a pop.

Julia sighed and activated a mystic shield over the area, containing all the kids safely. Once they were safe, she returned her focus to herself and the kid in her arms.

This was not the best way to start off the competition… and something told her that she’d be seeing that awful man again.

@tmntaucompetition

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@tmntaucompetition

HE’S… ALIVE?!

How does Mama Bear (and friends) respond?

“You’re not getting anyone!” Julia roars, wielding a giant rolling pin created and held by ninpo.

Dr. Chaplin gets wacked a few times like a spider with a newspaper before getting knocked across the competition area.

A specialized lock appears over the door to the daycare as it closed. Specialized Genius Tech ™️. It can hold up against practically anything, including him.

No baby is getting taken on her watch.

[highfiveheroes]

the only thought on the episode i will say tonight is this: i’m really disappointed that i’m supposed to be rooting for a set of bullies.

say what you will about the bad kids, they’ve been nasty this season, with a few standouts here and there—notably fabian, who has gone out of his way to make amends and friendships with people outside of the bad kids. but hearing the way they talk about other characters? the way adaine and kristen and gorgug were straight up bullying the rat grinders in a lot of situations? not saying the rat grinders weren’t being antagonistic in their own right, and i fully understand this is a comedy show of people sitting around a table making jokes and rolling dice. but compared to how much connection i had with the bad kids in say, season one or two, when they were going out of their way to be nice to people more often than they were being straight up rude and egging people on…

idk man. something about the bad kids this season isn’t sitting right with me anymore. and i’m sad.

[ki1ldeer]

The inconveniences of your boyfriend being a… psychic? Budding demigod of fate? Eh