#[ if he were to ever stray down the wrong path...] (drabbles)

[egittae]

10th of red wolf moon, 1159 | drabble

“How have I gotten where I am today? What an odd question that you have for me.”

The king’s voice ran soft under a warm chuckle. “I was not expecting an interview early in the winter morning, but I shall entertain your strange request.”

The inquirer in question was one of the newest additions to the royal guard, a young man with life burning in his eyes and a heart in the right place. He may be sitting at his desk, but there was no need to be close to notice how the soldier’s shoulders trembled with nervousness under the silver armor, hands behind his back as he did his best to keep a clean and solid composure.

“No path is the same, for a king. Even as we are born with a set fate- to inherit the crown and rule our nations, how we reach that point is ultimately not set down by the Goddess. Rather, she gives you the pen so you may write it yourself.” The blond began, leaning back against his chair, blue eyes focused on the young soldier before him. “I merely embraced my fate, as the next ruler of Faerghus. Many a novel detail tales of lords who wished to have been born free from the weight of a noble rank, wishing they could break away from it all, but I have always been the opposite. The love I hold for my nation is part of who I am as a man, and from the moment I understood myself as a person I vowed to live and breathe for Faerghus as if she were my own beating heart.”

Lambert never saw his title as a burden, or as an obstacle- much less as chains holding him back. It was an extension of himself, simple as that. “It is not an easy path to lead, far from it in reality, but I have never shied away from it. Even in my days at the Academy, despite my admittedly questionable attendance records, every action I took had Faerghus’ future as part of its purpose.”

Days of skipped classes on the hunt for adventure- but too for a chance to experience the world for what it was without being tailed by guards or stuck behind protective walls. Caking his shining silver boots with dirt and hay as he walked through the small towns surrounding the monastery, right in the middle of the streets, uncaring if he brushed against a dusty farmer or a dirty animal- eyes and ears far more interested in the display of life he was being privy to.

“…but I suppose most importantly, I have never, ever turned my back on the idea of facing the people for who they are. Perhaps it may be presumptuous for me to say, but most lords do not understand the power the common folk possess. I however, do. And I want the Kingdom to be aware of it, too.”

Wondering why it was the way it was, its intricacies, what little things he had yet to discover and how they compared to the commoner reality of the Kingdom.

The soldier, initially stunned by the response, stood in silence before snapping out of his shock to offer a rather quick and fervent nod, much to the monarch’s amusement. “I-I see! Your response was truly enlightening, Your Majesty! But…If you allow me to ask for a second- what do you believe to be your biggest strengths, Your Majesty? And perhaps, if it isn’t out of line for me to ask…your weaknesses as well? Forgive me if the latter is too intrusive on my part, Your Majesty.”

A slow blink hid another chuckle of amusement, Lambert not wishing to make it seem like the other man’s anxiety was a source of entertainment- even though the excess of his actions did earn a quirky smile from him as he pondered over his thoughts. “You are objective with your inquiries, I must say. Very good.” The praise seemed to wash over the soldier’s shoulders like a gentle cloth, cheeks flushed with glee as gratitude quite literally reverberated throughout his entire body with a rather enthusiastic nod.

These recruits, really…the king thought to himself fondly.

“My strengths are quite obvious, do you not think? I am an expert in the matters of handling glass and crystals.” A moment of silence, suddenly broken by a hearty laugh as Lambert waved his own joke away. “I jest, Margrave Gautier and Duke Fraldarius would give me a most judging stare if they were here. But to properly answer your question, I shall begin by sparing you the most obvious. There is little to gain from describing my performance as a knight to you as you have most likely been told about it ad nauseam during your training, I am sure. Rather, I will say I believe I have a good grasp in what it takes to be an understanding leader. Many think understanding is to merely be a good listener, or to possess sympathy…when in reality it is much more than that. It requires you to be willing to not only put yourself in another’s shoes, but grasp their perspective both in an emotional and logical sense. Depending on the individual or situation, this is a task most daunting- but it is an aspect I can say I am confident I have a proper grasp on.” The monarch crossed his arms, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

“And I too think I have a good judgement in when to make a difficult choice, as well as how. I cannot please all, no matter how much I wish I could, and so I must always choose what benefits the nation even if it means enacting ire from a few. If they hate me for it, let them- in the end I must, too, be confident in myself and my choices, and I cannot let the discontent of some nobles topple my authority. Harsh, maybe…but necessary. There is no such thing as a life made of easy choices.”

A short hum then, as a gloved finger curled under his chin in thought. Maybe some would think this to be foolish- exposing his own perceived weaknesses before a young recruit, but Lambert thought it as fine. Good, even. There was an art in maintaining a balanced view of a king who was both idealized perfection and the ultimate pillar of support- and a king who is human, and possesses faults, but is ultimately relatable.

“I have had an extensive number of individuals that claim I have a poor temper, and I will not completely deny their accusations. I admittedly have been trying to improve myself in that regard for many years now, but alas, my elder brother never thinks of it as enough. I too have been told that I can be inflexible and annoyingly stubborn. Once more, on one hand I understand their criticism…but on the other, I think there is value in being able to remain unshaken in some of my choices and stances, do you not think so?” Or maybe, behind the reasonable smile, was a big pout as he tried to gain validation for the fact that hey, he wasn’t that stubborn. Rodrigue, Matthias and Gunnar were just too annoying and naggy about it.

The recruit’s nod was, in the end, unsure. Yeeeah? Maybe? Sort of? “…I see that the Duke’s claims have reached even my men, oh Rodrigue you crafty creature.” An exasperated sigh left Lambert’s lips, now properly curled into a pout that lasted seconds before returning to their more well composed state. “My plights with my lords aside, has that answered your questions?”

“Y-Yes, completely! Finally getting the chance to talk to you truly was…an experience I will never forget, Your Majesty!” Much like before, the soldier’s gratitude came in the form of many nods and trembling smiles, almost resembling a rather excited puppy if Lambert were to attribute something more to it. The guy had to be almost Glenn’s age, if not perhaps slightly older at most.

However, before the soldier performed a final bow and salute to leave, wandering eyes found themselves on the king again. Motioning with a pointed nod to give the soldier clearance to continue, Lambert watched him curiously. “If I may…one last question, Your Majesty. Something shorter perhaps, so as to not waste more of your time.”

“We have scheduled this moment, have we not? My time is therefore yours for the time being, or so my planner states.” Lambert reassured the man with a smile, leaning over his desk and supporting his chin on his hands. “Go on, I am all ears.”

“If you may indulge me…if you were to be a character in a novel, what role would you like to possess, Your Majesty?”

An obvious answer was made clear before the question was even finished, but Lambert still regarded it with as much care and patience as the last two. If anything, for this third and last, he gave it additional thought- eyes closed for a brief moment of silent thought. “I would like to remain as a leading figure, whose role is to continue working towards shaping a good world for whoever finds themselves under my wings. However, that does not necessarily mean I wish to be said to be the novel's protagonist.” Corners of his lips slightly pulled up into a small smile. “The protagonist could be anyone- any faerghan. It could be you, even. My presence is undeniable, as I work towards leading the future of your nation, but ultimately your life- your story, is in your hands and you may choose to overlap your wants and needs with my actions or not.”

“A guide who leads and builds, who is not necessarily a protagonist, but who is reactive to the narrative either way. I think that could make for a decent story, in my humble opinion.”

Ultimately satisfied with the answer, the young soldier left the study with still flushed cheeks and a joyful smile plastered on his face. Meanwhile Lambert, as soon as the doors closed, let out a quiet chuckle as his composure melted into the soft velvet cushion of his chair.

“Those were good questions, I admit.”

—

Hadn’t it been for the calendar and the planners in his office, he would’ve lost track of time under the Abyss’ cloak- the abscence of windows and the view of the sky making it difficult to keep proper track of the passing of time. A day much like all others ever since the monastery’s reclaim, split between aiding reconstruction in the surface before retreating to the underground’s protective alleys to organize his own personal affairs- maintenance for armor and weapons, keeping up with laundry, cleaning, planning for future classes. Mundane, unexpectedly normal.

The mirror in his bedroom, once hidden behind draped cloth, now often found itself bare. He couldn’t remember when it was that he stopped covering it up, whether it was deliberate- a reminder for himself and his progress, or if he simply forgot one day and never thought about it again as the reflective surface, cracked at the bottom, blended into his routine. Lambert didn’t bother with it, until now.

A day like any other, another number in the calendar as the sun comes and goes. Papers in one hand- a mixture of records for future classes and assignments from before the war that he had yet to finish grading, a cup of tea gently cradled by his other hand as faint steam dances through air as the professor stood mid-action, facing the exposed mirror. At first, it had been merely to check for any disheveled hair, but the longer he stared the more he found himself thinking and thinking until the realization finally manifested before his very eyes, sitting in the middle of his chest- heavy and clunky, difficult to handle yet somehow not truly disrupting enough to cause a disturbance.

The rush of memory had been odd and sudden- intense, but ultimately settling well within his chest. Counting today, it has been an entire year since he had defied fate as well as death.

An entire year since he heard those same questions- but not from an excitable young recruit, and rather from one of the Abyss’ cardinals as Lambert sought refuge in his confused and lost state. Eventually the shock wears off, the feeling dissipating along the tea’s warmth as its temperature grows colder to match the ambient’s.

A year alive.

A lot happened, a lot still had to be uncovered, a lot had to be processed still.

But as he watched the man reflected in the mirror, Lambert felt a light confidence in his heart. A year had passed, and his path had only begun.

“They were good questions, indeed…”

[theoppositequeens]

FOURTH WING MASTERLIST

GENERAL

i'm no longer somebody's son - Liam's POV of the Calldyr Executions and the aftermath. Rated M.

maybe redemption has stories to tell - Violet has an offer Sloane can’t refuse as they stand over Liam’s grave. Rated T.

look around, look inside - Exploring the thoughts of Bodhi around asexuality. Written for Bodhi Week 2025. Rated T.

wherever you stray, i'll follow - Bodhi would follow Xaden even as he strays down a dark path. Drabble. Written for Bodhi Week 2025. Rated T.

just wait and see - Everyone compares Bodhi to Xaden. But Xaden compares himself to Bodhi. Written for Bodhi Week 2025. Rated T.

nobody comes to save you now - Bodhi, Imogen and Eya get cornered, their first year in Basgiath. Written for Bodhi Week 2025. Rated T.

does it feel alright to now know me? - Bodhi reflecting on his relationship with his cousin over three years at Basgiath. Drabble for Bodhi Week 2025. Rated T.

it's so quiet in the world tonight - Bodhi holds Xaden and Violet's firstborn. Soft, protective Bodhi for Bodhi Week 2025. Rated G.

that's when I could finally breathe - Bodhi suffers during his years in fostering, but tries his best to keep it from Xaden. Inevitably, his cousin finds out. Rape/Non-con. Rated E.

water is sweet but blood is thicker-series:

if the sky comes falling down for you - Bodhi saves Violet when she gets attacked. Rated T.

there's nothing in this world (i wouldn't do) - Xaden and Bodhi talk about the attack on Violet as well as older trauma and comfort each other. Rated M.

RIORGAIL (Violet/Xaden)

natten blir till dag - In which Violet wakes up from a nightmare while Xaden is on the frontlines, Bodhi comforts her and Xaden comes home to find the two people he loves most supporting each other. A birthday fic for Caelge. Rated T.

I don't think I care what it costs - In which dark!Xaden keeps the General's daughter alive, as per their deal, but exacts his revenge from her in other ways. Rape/non-con. Chapters 1/?. A birthday fic for @shipmistress9 Rated E.

water is sweet but blood is thicker-series

do you still believe in love? (i wonder) - In the wake of an already emotional day, Violet and Xaden both open up about their feelings regarding the attack on Violet. Rated M.

LIAM/XADEN

endlessly-universe:

the heart i know i'm breakin' is my own - Two years before Liam and Violet cross the parapet, Xaden and Liam say goodbye to each other and their relationship. Rated M.

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known - Xaden and Liam in the few stolen days they get after Xaden finishes his first year at Basgiath. Rated E.

the only soul who can see which smiles i'm fakin' - Xaden deals with Cat in Cordyn, then takes a detour to Tirvainne to see Liam. Rated M.

no, i could never give you peace - Liam and Xaden are starting to face some uncomfortable truths. Rated E.

there's nothing left to defend - During the spring of 633 AU, Xaden and Liam fall apart. Rated M.

VIOLIADEN (Violet/Liam/Xaden)

you were dancing on your own - Violet is out  for a reckless night of fun. Liam and Xaden pick her up on the dance floor. Chapters 4 / 5. Rated E.

endlessly-universe:

endlessly - In which Liam and Violet cross the parapet and are placed in Xaden's wing for very different reasons. Slowly, the three of them tangle together in a balancing act of trust, secrets and love. Chapters 3 / ? Rated E.

can we always be this close - Violet is on her period, and Xaden and Liam are in the mood for something slow and intense. She doesn't mind watching. Rated E.

i already know what you wanna do - Violet is having… a day. Xaden and Liam are all too happy to play along. Smut. Rated E.

push the limit (are you with it?) - After a mission that almost went horribly wrong, Xaden and Liam have their own unique ways of making sure Violet isn’t tearing herself apart with guilt. Just leaves the question who enjoys it the most… Rated E.

etch your name into me (because i want to know it) - Written for Xaden's birthday: in which Violet and Liam give Xaden all the love he deserves, and Xaden contemplates the fact that his skin is marked with scars for both of them. Rated E.

oh, do you know what you got into? - It's a slow morning in Riorson House. Violet, Liam and Xaden take full advantage of the time. Smut. Rated E.

so hot, out the box - Liam is on duty, but Xaden has ample time to play with Violet. And there’s plans in the making that she’s not aware of… Or, the one tagged for six different “Inappropriate Use of xxxx Signet (Empyrean)”. With a side of soft Liam/Violet smut the morning after. Chapters 2 / 2. Rated E.

take the pain, take the pleasure - Xaden isn't home, and it's up to Liam to punish Violet when she needs it. Smut. Rated E.

i’m the master of both - Or, Xaden and Liam have fun taking control of Violet on a day when she feels out of control. Smut. Rated E.

RIORRAN (Bodhi/Xaden)

i think i am finally clean - Bodhi suffers during his years in fostering, but tries his best to keep it from Xaden. Inevitably, his cousin finds out. The Riorran version. Rape/non-con. Cousincest. Rated E.

the world may disapprove, but my world is only you-series:

two reflections into one - Smut with feelings around the prompt: mirror. Cousincest. Written for Bodhi Week 2025. Rated E.

we'll defy the rules until we die - D/s smut, established relationship, around the prompt: signet countering. Cousincest. Written for Bodhi Week 2025. Rated E.

SLAIN (Sloane/Dain)

stay your pretty eyes on course - An a/b/o universe Basgiath, omega!Sloane and alpha!Dain. Chapters 7 / 14. Rated E.

the Chronicles of Sloane the brat Mairi and Dain fucking Aetos-series:

Yes, Daddy - A little crack ficlet, pre-relationship, where Sloane calls Dain "Daddy" in public. Rated T.

Hide-and-seek with Dain fucking Aetos - Sloane leads Dain on a wild goose chase around Basgiath to avoid signet training. And gets caught. Rated T.

the Daddy Dom Dain TED talk-series:

while i taste your fingertips - Also known as "Welcome to the Daddy Dom Dain TED talk". Smut. Rated E.

i've been thinking 'bout your skin - A TED talk on how to make Sloane Mairi go feral, and then put her back in her place. Smut. Rated E.

anything you want i’ll give it up - Sloane teases Dain in public and gets… punished? Smut. Rated E.

CAIN (Cam | Aaric/Dain)

life may spin us in its dance-universe:

there is no longer you and me - Cam and Dain say goodbye before Dain starts at Basgiath War College. Rated M.

SLAM (Sloane/Aaric | Cam)

life may spin us in its dance-universe:

spin me and I’ll respond to your movement - Sloane and Aaric hook up for the first time pre-Threshing in IF. Rated E.

SLAINIC (Sloane/Aaric | Cam/Dain)

in this moment now, capture it, remember it - A happy ever after fluffy baby fic for Slainic co-written with @violencelittlething. Rated T.

life may spin us in its dance-universe:

never fall in love again (until I found her) - Technically Slam, Slain and background Cain, but pre-relationship Slainic. Just two men, falling in love with Sloane when they'd all but given up on love altogether. Rated M.

so much behind (how much ahead?) - Sloane and Dain, in an established relationship, realize they're both still hung up on Aaric. And do something about it. Rated E.

you say there’s forever in us - Picks up from where the previous fic left off. Slainic getting together, smut. Rated E.

BRENNAOLIN (Brennan/Naolin)

my words will be your light (to carry you to me) - Brennan and Naolin reunite for Midwinter while Brennan is still in the Quadrant and Naolin has graduated. Fluff and smut? For Brennaolin Week 2025, Day 5: Reunion. Rated M.

[myjisung]

stray kids' maknae line as romantic fanfiction tropes !

content. stray kids maknae line, non-idol!skz, gn!reader, slice of life, idiots in love — fluff.

warning. none

wordcount. 3,6k. each imagine is about 850 words long but i got carried away for seungmin's...

a/n. part two of this post. would you be interested in these drabbles being written out as full fics? let me know! also, this is only my opinion. feel free to disagree and let me know what you would have done differently :-)

han ( 한 ) as enemies to lovers

many things annoyed jisung: waking up way after his alarm rang and having to rush through his morning routine, stepping in a wet spot in the bathroom while wearing socks or even no one telling him something is stuck right in between his front teeth and him only realizing it once he is back home at the end of the day for example. but what annoyed him the most was your general presence, especially whenever he was out with his friends.

it was just his luck. of course you had to be that new friend he met at a musicology lecture's best friend. of course, it made sense. not only had jisung had to suffer through spending all his high school years stuck in the same classroom as you but you also had to be there throughout his new life as a college student?

he thought he had finally gotten rid of you when he heard you had given up on studying music and eventually chose to go into psychology instead. he vividly remembered excitedly telling his friend group about it, even going as far as performing this little victory dance of his that had you grinding your teeth. all this for nothing, you were still there, all up in his face and, most of all, annoying.

if he was asked about it, jisung could never tell why he disliked you that much. something about you, about the way you held yourself and spoke made him feel small. jisung hated it, he absolutely despised the way you made him feel.

he had always been quite confident. jisung knew he took up space; he was aware of the fact that he was a little much to deal with sometimes. it had never bothered him, and neither had it ever bothered his friends. yet, it seemed to bother you and that was where it all started. that time you looked at him wrong as he was laughing slightly louder than he should have been in the library; that time you were studying for a test you both had in the afternoon and he did not care about it even a little bit.

you were only sixteen then. you both had barely just met a few weeks back as you moved into a new school and you were already looking down on him. jisung simply could not let that slide so, he faced you head on, asking what seemed to be the issue and you had rolled your eyes, closing your books before moving to sit someplace else. as he had gotten ignored for the very first time in his life, his friends had laughed at him and so had you when you had turned your back to him. from that moment on, jisung did not like you and it was definitely reciprocated.

despite wanting to avoid each other as much as you could, being in the same class forced you to interact. for some reason, your teachers loved making you work together whenever you had to do group projects. so, not only did you sit in the same classroom—sometimes even side by side—but you also had to visit his home from time to time so that you could get those projects done with. the way jisung approached those projects only furthered your annoyment towards him; the less he did, the better he felt. but you never forced yourself to the do whole work rather, you much preferred to bug him until he got his parts all done by himself.

so, when you finally graduated from highschool and were allowed to walk the paths you had chosen, you were both pretty pleased to finally grow apart from each other. unfortunately, your childhood friend had to bump into jisung on their very first day of college and he introduced you both, thinking you did not know each other.

he had told you jisung was quite the funny guy, a little timid but genuine in everything he said and that caught your attention. your friend loved to play cupid and believed to be an outstanding matchmaker, which was why you had accepted to meet his friend. jisung was told the very same kind of things. he had heard about how you were an incredible friend, always there to lend a listening ear or to cheer someone up. you were also quite humorous and the happy go lucky kind of person. jisung loved that description so much he was eager to meet you.

however, upon actually seeing each other, disappointment could be read on both of your faces. your friend was not the read-the-room kind of guy so he left you both to it for a bit as he grabbed drinks for all three of you. in the meantime, you had silently looked at each other for a few seconds before you decided to speak.

"i'll act friendly" you had said "he's a good guy, i don't wanna make him uncomfortable. i bet you'd like to do the same, so get to it."

and that you both did. you suffered through group hangout upon group hangout, meeting jisung's new friends and introducing him yours despite most of them knowing of how much you despised each other.

you forced yourself to smile but genuinely laughed at each other's jokes. the more time you spent together, the more accustomed you got to each other's flaws and the more you grew to finally see your strengths. jisung was loud but his hearty laughs were the best kind of sound you had ever heard. you were still a little quiet but it did not rub jisung the wrong way anymore, he actually enjoyed trying to get you out of your shell and tried to absorb all the smiles and giggles you blessed him with.

months later, you even caught yourself making plans together, though trying to play it off as casually as could. you wanted to hang out just the both of you, and that was more than fine. even if it would take time to take the steps you had been thinking of for a while, this was more than fine for now. jisung would eventually do it. he would eventually face the feelings he had quietly fostered over time.

jisung would eventually be ready to tell you, but would you be ready to hear him out?

felix ( 필릭스 ) as soulmates

as far as you could remember, felix always told you he would find his soulmate one day and he genuinely believed it too. it made you giggle a little bit; maybe because fated lovers was a little too much of a whimsical concept to you but also because it seemed difficult to achieve. of course, true love was the most beutiful thing you could think of, but being made to love someone from the moment you were born sounded a little off. maybe because you were one to think you made your soulmate instead of finding them, but also, believing in such things made felix a bit too much of a romantic.

in his search for his one true love, felix got hurt more than once and you were there to witness it. you were always there, always lingering around felix, not because you were friends but because he felt like home. you did not really confide into each other, instead just longing for one another's presence without ever knowing why. of course, you spent great time together and enjoyed those precious moments shared with each other but you could not call that a friendship. felix was only a friend of a friend to you anyway, and so were you to him, which made it all a lot more awkward than it had to be.

but something always bugged you. that moment you had met felix for the very first time had to be the weirdest day you had ever experienced.

you had woken up out of breath, as if you had been thrown out of a nightmare and were forced to arise. however, you had no recollection of what you had seen in your dreams, neither were you under the impression that they had been unpleasant. it was odd, but you had not paid much attention to it, blaming the stressful period of time you had experiencing been back then instead.

on your way to meet up with your friend that same day, things had gotten even weirder. you had felt excited. the more steps you had taken, the more excited you had felt and the more you had gotten nervous. it had been as if you were about to go take the most important exam of your lifetime, as if something huge was about to happen and you were going to experience it head on. whatever that could have been, you were not able to figure it out, which had made you even more stressed out.

when you had pushed the door of the café you had decided to meet at, and spotted your friend's silhouette at one of the tables set right beside the tall windows, your stomach had tied itself up into a knot. you wanted to bolt out of the room but also felt drawn to that table. so, you paced towards it, all of your senses alert and your head fuzzy. your friend was not alone that day, a blond man was sitting right by his side, all smiles and crinkled eyes. the moment you looked at him, the very second your eyes caught felix's, calmness washed over you.

you could not look away, completely captivated by this boy you had never seen before. felix looked back at you the same way you admired him, he appreciated each and every single one of your features as a storm was raging in his head and his heart was beating out of his chest.

how odd, you both thought. then you moved on with your days. your friend introduced you both, you smiled and learned next to nothing about each other, too shaken up by what had just happened.

you never brought it up, too scared to sound insane or scare the other off. yet, you kept looking for each other. you tried to hang out without making it weird by inviting the friends you had in common to tag along. when you were hanging out, you barely interacted, too intimidated by the way you felt whenever your eyes met.

as time went by, you grew quite fond of felix despite not knowing much about him. maybe you were addicted to the feelings you experienced whenever you looked him in the eyes or the sparkles that burned your skin whenever your hands brushed against one another, you might never know. there was simply something about him. his laugh had your head spin and his blinding smiles made your heart grow much bigger than it was supposed to be. despite not saying it out loud, a part of you hoped he felt the exact same way.

though fated lovers still sounded silly to you, there was something that made you hope that that was what was happening to you. no matter how little you knew about felix, you hoped he was the one, your soulmate, in this universe and the many others.

seungmin ( 승민 ) as fell first, fell harder

love had always been something complicated for seungmin. he had seen his friends fall in and out of it more times than he could count. the way they all were walking on clouds during the first few weeks of each relationship, only to watch them grow used to the feeling—, which made it seem as if love was no use—was something extremely difficult for him. even more so when those relationships faded into routine, racing towards their descent into frustration, petty fights and ultimately, the breakups. seungmin hated picking his friends hearts' pieces up all by himself, over and over again.

in truth, seungmin dated too. sometimes, people he was not in love with but rather fond of. spending time with them was healing, something he enjoyed doing and giving his all for. nonetheless, he was aware that it was not what love was supposed to be.

he had heard people go and on and on about how loving someone gave meaning to one's life; about how love not only taught someone to grow into a better version of themself but also to grow more mature as time went by. yet, seungmin remained seungmin, nothing ever changed and neither did his feelings for each and every single one of those people. so, without being able to help it, he always let them down, though gently.

how surprised was he when you came into his life. it was rather comical; seungmin worked part time as a cashier at a late night convenience store. as a photography student, it was always handy to have some cash to spare. also, nights were always pretty calm in this area of town, which is why he had chosen to work there in the first place. that particular night, it was raining pretty heavily. raindrops crashed harshly against the shop's windows and seungmin was counting down the minutes left until he was allowed to leave and let his colleague to the rest of the work. as he was staring at the clock perched above the candy aisle, you came running into the shop.

water dripped down from your clothes, wetting the floor seungmin had just swept. he found it annoying but thought it was none of his business anymore, his colleague would clean that up anyway. so, he looked up at you as you quickly paced through the shop. you were looking for an umbrella and seungmin quickly caught onto that. so, he softly called out to you.

"hey." you looked up at him, your face damp with rain and your eyes bloodshot from sleepless nights, it seemed, "an umbrella, right?" he asked, just to make sure he was not reading the situation wrong.

"yeah," you responded, a small smile tugging at your lips "though the damage is already done." you added, gesturing at your clothes, which already ruined by the weather.

at that, seungmin giggled and you could not help but find the sound attractive. he looked quite soft in his attire, simple polo shirt with the logo of the shop he worked at embroidered on his torso and messy brown hair covering his forehead. his laugh, quite low and warm, tickled your ears just right, almost musically.

"but you know, maybe it'll come in handy some other time." you added.

seungmin nodded as he walked from behind the counter up to you. he then led you to a corner of the shop, where cheap clear umbrellas were messily stacked together, and crouched.

"right, especially this fall" he ended up answering "they're expecting even heavier rain in the coming days"

seungmin picked an umbrella, straightened up and handed it to you. "how about this one?"

finally getting a good look at you, he caught himself admiring your face. yes, it was covered in water and your makeup had smudged a little bit. obviously, your mascara had cascaded in dark lines down your face and your lipstick had smeared to the corners of your lips. but seungmin quite liked it, you looked cute to him, cuter than anyone before. without knowing why, he grew slightly nervous, wanting to act the best he could in front of you.

"looks just like all the other ones but, since you picked it for me, i guess i'll take this one" you said as you grabbed the umbrella and walked up to the counter.

seungmin pursed his lips, left to wonder as he looked at you walking away. really cute, he thought.

once he collected himself, seungmin finally stood back behind the counter. he rung you up, counted the coins you handed to him as slow as he could, just to bask in your presence some more—something that surprised him but he could not help. then, he wished you a good night.

"see you soon, seungmin" you uttered, a slanted smile playing on your lips.

he frowned, how did you even know his name? was that not the first time you ever met? were you, maybe, another student at the university he attended? had he been blind this whole time?

the very visible confusion dancing all over his face made you giggle. oh, how lovely; so lovely to him, absolutely gorgeous in seungmin's eyes and heart.

"your badge. your name's on your badge." you ended up saying.

great, he made a fool out of himself! seungmin finally smiled back, genuinely amused but a little embarrassed.

"right, that's right..."

with that, you eventually walked out of the shop. seungmin watched as you opened your umbrella and paced down the street.

love had always been complicated for seungmin and it still was. he did not believe in love at first sight but, every single night he worked at the shop, he hoped to see you again. little did he know, you wished for the exact same thing.

i.n ( 아이엔 ) as childhood friends to lovers

you and jeongin had always been friends, thanks to your mothers. they had been close for as long as they could remember, sharing memories and milestones alongside each other. so, when they had kids around the same age, they wanted them to be just as close; which is why you got introduced to each other early on in both your lives.

of course, at first, you did not really get along. you found jeongin annoying for he knew how to push your buttons. you were not good at hiding your frustration and he found that awfully funny for some reason. what he did not find funny however was how you beat him at every single game with ease. then, it was his turn to grow frustrated and yours to snicker obnoxiously.

as years went by, you grew much closer than your parents ever expected you to. looking back at how your relationship started, your mothers did not think you would ever end up acting friendly with each other; too prideful to ever back off from your childish ways. jeongin took the first step—coming to your house whenever he was bored—and wanted to be around someone. you told him he could go meet his actual friends over and over again. yet, there he was, ringing your doorbell or blowing up your phone to come meet with him downtown for a milkshake and pancakes.

best friends, that was what you had become. childhood best friends to be more specific, and you were proud of that. you knew pretty much everything about each other; which allowed you both to throw perfectly aimed jabs at one another whenever the opportunity presented itself.

you were there for each other, ready to give the comfort the other needed. jeongin was there when you got dumped by your first boyfriend. that night, he held you close to his chest and threaded his fingers through your hair silently as he waited for you to calm down.

jeongin was also there when you decided to move out for college and followed you all the way to the school you had chosen to attend. being apart scared him but he was not about to tell you that; still too prideful despite the years passing by.

it was then that people's comments about your friendship started getting to your head. never before had so many people confused you both for a couple. after all, people in your hometown knew about your relationship and did not feel like questioning it. best friends, that was what you were.

even so, the way people reacted whenever you cleared up the fact that jeongin was your best friend and nothing more had you thinking. you were starting to look at jeongin differently. the way he oh so carefully held you, the fact that he knew how to comfort you but also all the ways to make you laugh until your tummy hurt; all of it made you question your stance on that relationship of yours. maybe going out with jeongin did not look that bad now that you thought about it. but it was not that easy.

although your view on jeongin carefully changed over time, it did not mean he felt the same way. for everyone's best interest, you decided to keep quiet about your blossoming feelings.

you did not stop seeing jeongin. though it hurt, distancing yourself would seem odd, especially to him since he had spent pretty much his entire life by your side. yet you knew you could not act like everything was completely fine, and if he picked up on it, jeongin did not mention anything.

you continued hanging out with him, visiting his room a few times a week just to sit beside each other and watch movies most of the time. one night, after an especially boring movie, you lingered a little longer than usual. jeongin had asked you to, saying he was not sleepy anyway and did not feel like laying there all by himself until exhaustion took over. so you chatted a little bit, the lights dimmed and faint music played from jeongin's loud speaker. after a while, there was nothing more to say, and you were about to leave. but before you could say anything about going back to your own dorm, jeongin spoke up after gazing into your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

"i really want to kiss you right now."

you eyes grew bigger as his words took some time to set in your mind. jeongin, though painfully nervous, did not falter. he continued to look directly at you. he was not joking and neither were you when you replied.

"i'd like that a lot actually."

you got very little sleep that night.

taglist. @zoe8stay @starlostseungmin @starzzns @dumbfound-princess @hyukabean @l3visbby @yejiimg @eggielix @pearlygraysky @meowmeowisdaname @minilinooo @mybelovedhamji @hyuneater — let me know if you would like to be added / removed.

[tainted-wine]

Primal Dissonance

Hawks x Reader (NSFW)

So anon was like:

And since I’m total ass at writing short drabbles, or maybe it’s because they called me senpai, I ended up with a whole-ass fic. This took a different route than planned but I hope you enjoy, anon!

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: Dubcon, Pheromones, Mindbreak, Feral Hawks, Rough and Public Sex, Tit Abuse. This totally isn’t as dark as it sounds.

--------x--------

Hawks has been getting noisy. Not in the usual sense; he’s always a motormouth. No, he’s been making sounds that you’ve never heard him make.

At first you thought he was sick and something was irritating his throat, but on one occasion when you offered him water after hearing the sound, he almost looked offended. You concluded that it wasn’t an illness.

You later noticed that the noise often happens when it’s just the two of you together. During late night movie viewings at his place, he’d hold you close and release a constant hum, the vibrations from his chest and wings soothing enough to make you drift into sleep in his arms. You never saw the look of disappointment in his face as he decided to cuddle you for the rest of the night.

Just a few days later, he spots you during one of his patrols and presents you with a surprise expensive gift. A ruby pendant, the same brilliant shade as his feathers, was placed around your neck by gentle gloved hands.

“Hawks—why—what did I do to deserve this?” You asked while your eyes reflected the gemstone’s sparkles.

“Just wanted to give a pretty gift to my pretty girl.” He gave you a kiss, and waves of soft hums leave his mouth and into yours, flowing through your body, stimulating all of your nerves and triggering pleasant shivers. One makeout session later, and you both pull back to lock eyes. He’s looking at you expectantly, but you don’t even know what the hell he’s expecting.

You look to the side awkwardly. “Thank you, Hawks. It’s beautiful, but I…don’t have anything to give in return. This was a complete surprise, after all.”

His eye twitches, but he smiles and embraces you. “That’s fine, chickadee.”

A pigeon appears during your hug, and the soft coos emanating from it give you an epiphany.

“A pigeon! That’s what it is! You’re cooing like a pigeon!”

This time it’s his smile that twitches. Did you say something wrong? Whatever it is, he brushes it off with a half-hearted laugh. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

That was also the day you noticed his rising body temperature. You asked once again if he was feeling ill, and at least this time he didn’t appear to be upset when he answered ‘no.’

On the next night you spent in his home, he—and you’re still not over this—took your hand and pulled you in for a dance. It wasn’t some silly jig in which he blindly moved to a random pop song, it was a slow classic love song, and he moved both of you in an elegant dance fitting for a ballroom.

It was the last thing you expected from the hero that normally took you on KFC dates or, if he had the time, reserve a spot at his favorite yakitori place. But there was no way you could say that you didn’t like the way his feet glided across the floor, wings acting as a living cape that made each of his movements look all the more graceful, and you followed his pace as best as you could.

You clung onto him more tightly than intended when he dipped you after a spin, sharp avian eyes boring into you before he buries his face in your neck, and that’s when you feel more than hear the cooing return. It’s a tune that never fails to make you feel so warm and safe; you have no idea how his gentle sounds have such influence over you.

He looks pleased by your relaxed state, pulling you back up and brushing a few stray hairs out of your face. “So?”

You smiled and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I didn’t know you had such grace, Hawks. Now hurry up, or we’re going to miss the movie for tonight!”

You scampered off into the kitchen to prepare the popcorn, completely oblivious to the baffled look your boyfriend was giving behind your back.

A few days later and you’re more certain than ever that he’s coming down with something, because now there’s a constant sheen of sweat all over his skin, and his breath sounded labored even when he was just sitting around. Since he ignores all of your pleas to stay home for just a day or two, you come up with another solution. Hawks pouts like a child when you tell him that a little nature and clean air might restore his health, but he still accepts your offer for a date at a nature park because hey, spending a day in natural beauty with you sounds great.

You practically dragged him into a bus after telling him several times that he shouldn’t tire himself out prematurely by flying both of you there. One long scenic drive later, you both arrive at your beautiful destination. The park was huge and lush with flora of all kinds, from tree-filled paths to endless flower fields.

Exploring everything this paradise has to offer with Hawks sounds like a dream, but your main goal was to loosen him up and help him feel better, so you avoided the populated areas, passing the cycling roads, the play areas, the bug houses, all of the charming attractions until you reached the long stretches of vibrant colors. The flower park.

You and Hawks began a slow stroll hand-in-hand, taking in the seemingly endless blooms, the trees shedding petals onto the walkway—all of it served as the most delicious treat for your eyes.

But when you looked at the winged hero to see if he was enjoying the scenery as much as you were, you saw that he was staring at you. His face was slightly flushed, but you couldn’t tell if it was the result of his feverish temperature or if he’s finding this whole date very romantic.

“The flowers are over there, birdbrain,” you joked with a squeeze of his hand.

His wing wrapped around you and pulled you in closer, encasing you in his abnormal heat. “The only flower that matters is right here.” There was a rough breathlessness to his voice that made the otherwise corny line sound sensual.

And then the coos returned, bringing you back to that pleasant world where everything was warm, soft, and safe. The red feathers surrounding you quivered and rippled like ocean waves of scarlet. You were supposed to be making him feel at ease here, not the other way around.

A chorus of chirps snapped you out of your stupor. You broke out of the hypnotic embrace and spot a bunch of small bouncing figures in the white lilac tree in front of you. “Aww, look at all of the little tits, Hawks!” You point at the flock of singing critters.

Hawks snorted immaturely.

Before you could withdraw your arm, one of the Japanese tits flew over and perched on your still-extended finger, leaving you bug-eyed and your mouth agape. “Hi there! You’re a brave little guy, aren’t you?” You said softly, hoping not to startle it. It tweeted in response, fluffing up its black and white plumage as it looked up at you curiously. “Hawks! It’s so cute!”

Red wings bristled, but you were too enamored with the friendly bird on your hand to even look back at your boyfriend. It continued to sing, the tits sitting in the tree joining in to create an adorable medley of chirps, tweets, and peeps. “Such a nice sound, I never realized how amazing these little guys are.” You keep watching the beady eyes that stare right back at you, feeling the bird’s little feet move quickly as it adjusted itself to get more comfortable.

And with a powerful slug from a hardened red feather out of nowhere, the tiny tit is knocked off of your finger and sent flying like a fucking golf ball.

Your pointing hand was still out as you looked on, eyes and mouth now wide open in horror instead of awe. The poor bird managed to right itself before it hit the ground, flapping frantically to ride the light breeze and fly past its tree of brethren and off into the distance, its sloppy turns and sudden drops betraying how dazed it was.  

With your short-lived friend out of your sight, you turned to the man that ruined your magical bonding session, multiple negative emotions boiling inside you and ready to spill right onto this bastard. “Hawks!” You’re prepared to blow his ears off with every ounce of frustration, every concern that’s been plaguing you for the past week thanks to the strange changes that he refuses to talk about, but then you freeze.

The man’s face has darkened, eyes narrowed with its pupils shrunken into beady slits, lips pressed together in a tight frown—he looked enraged. But the terrifying look wasn’t directed at you, he was looking up at the innocent tits still residing in the tree and paying no mind to the violent treatment of one of their own. As his wings slowly spread with feathers sharpened, your chest constricted once you realized what was about to happen.

“Stop!” You threw yourself at him, grabbing at the outstretched limbs in a pitiful attempt to stop them, the bladed edges cutting your hands. It was still enough to shock and prevent him from launching any of the deadly weapons at the birds. You felt his feathers return to their soft fluffy state as he stumbled from your weight. “What the hell are you doing? What, are you pissed that it chose my hand instead of yours? The hell is wrong with you?”

Now he was aiming the glare at you, and you couldn’t help but shrink under the intimidation. His voice was shockingly low. “Just what game are you playing at here? Gushing over another bird’s song right in front of me?”

You eyed his still-expanded wings as you tried to make sense of what he said. “What?” Was all you could say.

“Here I was thinking you just had extremely high standards, but maybe you’re the type that likes to play hard to get, or make your guy jealous and see how he handles it.” He took a step toward you, and you took one back. “Well let me tell you, I’m not handling it very well.”

What he was implying would have made you burst into laughter if he didn’t look so threatening right now. “You’re…jealous? Of the bird that was on my finger?”

He laughed, or at least tried to, but the shortness of breath made him cough. The sudden anger must be worsening whatever has been making him hot and throaty for the past days. He needs to calm down for his own damn sake. “I guess I shouldn’t be, should I? Not for a girl who gets wet over any bird that does something as simple as approach her.”

“Excuse me?” Did you hear that correctly? No joke, did you really hear that shit correctly?

Hawks just keeps on going, taking your bewilderment as more mockery. “I give you something shiny, you don’t say anything.” A flash of several feathers and you feel your arms being pulled in front of you, the red tufts tying your wrist together.

“I put on a nice dance I practiced for, and you don’t say anything. Did you even notice that I cleaned and decorated the room that night?” You’re panicking from your tied hands and don’t see him fire another barrage that goes for your ankles, their tugs forcing you to lose your balance and fall hard onto the ground with a pained cry. Your hands are forcefully pinned above your head. “Hell, you seem to enjoy my song every time you hear it, so what’s the deal?”

While your heart is on the verge of exploding from its anxious beats, the gears in your head are spinning as you try to figure out how exactly this whole miscommunication even happened, but they keep jamming, filling your head with sparks and smoke of pure confusion. “What song? You haven’t been singing anything!” You yell as you fight against the feather-made cuffs around your hands and feet, but there was no breaking free. They suddenly felt as strong and durable as elastic metal.

Hurt flashes across his face and you don’t understand why goddammit, but it’s quickly masked with another scowl. “You mean the song that’s lulled you to sleep? The song that never fails to put you at ease every time? I can sense it, you know. How calm and pleased you feel whenever you hear it. I know it’s not the loud obnoxious tune of a songbird,” he glances at the tree that continues to emanate various calls as he kneels over you, nearly straddling your waist. Smart of him to keep his groin out of the range of your knees. “But you still enjoy it, right? I’m not too upset that you compared it to a shitty pigeon.”

You only stutter in shaky breaths as he lowers himself and presses all of his weight onto you, your eyes shut as he nuzzles your face lovingly. He feels like a furnace, the sweat from his face slathering onto yours from his rough rubs.

That’s when you smell something potent. You’ve picked up traces of it from him throughout the week, a strange but not unpleasant mixture of salt and sweet. You assumed it to be some sort of shampoo or cologne, but now it’s hitting you full force and it’s making your body…respond. With each inhale, the exotic scent sends a tingle down your abdomen and a release of wetness that dampens your clothing. What the hell is happening to you?

Hawks pulls away and sniffs the air. Your feminine aroma has him moan so suggestively that it makes your core heat up even more. “Oh, so this is getting you going?” He questions in a judgmental tone before something appears to cross his mind, and he laughs with a slap to his forehead. “I’m such an idiot. I’ve been doing this all wrong, haven’t I? You’re not a bird.” He kisses at the side of your face and licks the shell of your ear before whispering, “You’re a mammal. You don’t choose a mate by their pretty gifts or fancy dances.”

The lustful haze invading your mind almost distracts you from whatever is tugging at your pants and pulling them down. “H-Hawks…” You accidentally moaned. You were too out of it to even properly convey your worry. Your pants are removed and something tickles your hips to remove your panties next—that’s when you identify them as more feathers.

“With mammals, males just take what they want. They catch her, hold her down, and fuck her on the spot.”

You gasp when your lower body is completely stripped and exposed—a mistake—Hawks’s intoxicating smell rushes into your mouth and nostrils, making you clench and gush. He lifts himself just enough for the living binds around your wrists to pull and drag you off of the stone walkway and into the blooming batches. The flowers were just tall enough to probably hide you from anyone at a distance, but the winged man crawling over and sitting in front of your feet would easily give you away. “Hawks, someone…might see us,” you mutter.

He only chuckles. “Good, I want them to see. Are you little bastards watching?” He looks up at the lilac tree that now looms right over both of you. The resting tits have gone quiet, most likely intimidated by the large bird-human hybrid that continued to glare at them.

The response was ridiculous enough to temporarily free you from your trance. “I’m not worried about the birds, you dumbass.”

“Hmph, of course you’re not. You’d let them all join in if I’d let you, wouldn’t you?”

You have so many questions about how that would even work.

But you’re interrupted by the feathers around your ankles pulling your feet apart, easily overcoming your resistance and spreading you wide open for the hero in front of you. You have to look away from just how soaked you are, juices flowing from your swollen pussy and onto the soft soil, some of it sticking to your parted thighs in strands. The sight makes Hawks salivate.

“I’m at the peak of my rut and I’m tired of waiting. Gonna make you mine.”

It’s all he says before his entire mouth is on your cunt, tearing a startled cry from your throat. The peaceful sounds of the wind and rustling leaves are overshadowed by the absolutely filthy slurps, sucks, and growls between your legs. He was being a greedy savage that simply wanted to drink you up. There were no careful methods or patterns, just a hungry tongue that lapped at every inch of you and lips that sucked on anything they could grip.

You could barely even writhe from the onslaught, what with your arms pinned over your head and your feet held down so strongly that you couldn’t even move them across the dirt. You kept your sights on the rich colors of various flowers that encircled you as the sweet-smelling haze enveloped you again, enhancing your pleasure. Despite Hawks’ sudden loss of his oral skills, the feral nature of it all—the smothered snarls against your sex, the startling feel of his teeth carelessly grazing your sensitive flesh, and the lewd sight of his face covered in your glistening juices as his glassy eyes opened and stared into yours as he ate you alive—his voracity had you boiling over.

He gulped your essence loudly, welcoming every drop of the orgasmic flood into his mouth. All of the colors in your vision blurred more with each mind-numbing pulse. You weren’t even aware of the shameless wails that left you until the blissful waves finally subsided.

Once he had his fill, he finally pulled away from your mound and boy did he look like a hot mess. His cheeks were a deep red that was slowly spreading across his cum-covered face, a beady string of your fluids hanging from his lips before dripping off. He was climbing back over you and when the fuck did he take his pants off? He must have unbuttoned and removed them while he was licking you into heaven.

He still manages to look smug while he takes in your spent form, your slightly parted lips impossible to resist. Your mouth was suddenly locked with his, the breath you were desperately trying to get back stolen from you. And then the scent returns, this time accompanied with a powerful salted lemon flavor that assaults your taste buds. The taste of your own pussy was insignificant; his aroma in both your nose and mouth is nearly suffocating, your still-recovering inner walls already squeezing out more of your slick.

His tongue thrashes about in your mouth to paint his sweet saliva on every spot he could reach. You swallow it up thirstily and feel an immediate response in your throat that somewhat frightens you. Numbness overtakes your mouth and your throat relaxes completely; you felt like it was suddenly impossible to choke.

Hawks messily pulls away, breathing heavily and licking his lips. “Look at you. All it takes is a whiff and taste of a rutting male to turn you into a submissive little bitch.” You’ve never heard him speak like that, but like every action he’s taken since you’ve been at his mercy, it doesn’t fail to arouse you for reasons you still don’t understand. “Do you want some more? Hmm?”

You’re nodding before your crippled mind can comprehend the question.

The drugged kiss has you dizzy. You’re doing your best to keep track of his movements as he straddles your chest, his cock coming into focus and pressing against your lips. He doesn’t give you a command, you simply open up like a trained whore.

You’re moaning from the addicting taste of his length that pushes all the way to the back of your throat. Once his pubes are flush against your nose, your eyes roll back and you lose all sense of…everything. Everything except for that exhilarant fragrance and flavor.

Even as he begins to move in your mouth, your tongue swirls all around the sweet meat in an attempt to taste him all over. You’re throbbing wildly, but the feathers prevent you from bringing your thighs together for some much needed friction.

He was thrusting in and out at a pace that should have you gagging, but you take the pounding smoothly. Everything was murky, save for the pleasure that was slowly consuming you. You think the birds are singing again, maybe.

Something was smacking against your chin…rather loudly, you think. Hawks’s balls. How obscene, the way he’s hunched over you and fucking your face so roughly, but it’s hard to feel embarrassed when it’s all making you feel so damn good. Drool gathers and drips down your mouth. Your throat has become a second pussy, and he was fucking it like one.

The scent has your entire body on fire and you wish so badly that you could touch yourself. It was too powerful, each breath filling you with more burning tension. Your desperate whines came out as bubbly gurgles around his hammering dick. Your climax is dangling right at the edge. All you need is just the smallest touch on your drenched, deprived pussy.

His thick intrusion suddenly leaves your mouth, allowing oxygen to properly enter your lungs and for the pooling saliva to be swallowed. Hawks says something as you cough and sputter, but everything is still too muffled.

“Good……….not yet……….finish inside.” That was all that you were able to catch. You frankly don’t care. You immediately want his overpowering scent back.

When something pushes past the entrance between your legs, you cum instantly. Your scream is silent, or maybe you just can’t hear it, as your restrained limbs twitch like mad from the excruciatingly pleasurable contractions.

You’re already being fucked roughly while you’re still coming down from your orgasmic high. You’re rocked against the flowers and the soft earth beneath, your peaceful surroundings a stark contrast to the raunchy act currently taking place among them.

Hawks leans in once again, and you have to turn away and hold your breath because you truly felt like one more whiff of that mouth-watering smell would bring you the most euphoric death. His mouth drew closer to your ear, harsh pants in sync with his rapid thrusts. There’s no way a body was meant to handle so much stimulation, yet you didn’t want it to end.

You wanted this powerful man and everything that he had. You want him to fill your womb with his seed…bear his strong and healthy offspring…then let him take you all over again…

There’s a soft rumble that brings you back down to earth, clearing your mind just enough so that all of your senses work properly again. The smudged colors return to their original shapes, and the cooing that vibrates through both of your bodies can be heard loud and clear. His song.

���That’s it, baby. I’ve got you right here. Just give in to me.” Hawks sounds on the verge of losing his voice, weak and graveled, but his singing and hips aren’t letting up.

Finally, fucking finally, the feathers release your limbs. Ignoring how boneless they feel, you use all of your strength to wrap your arms tightly around his neck, and your legs lock right above his ass. You cling onto him like a parasite and moan freely, trusting his low and soft vocals to keep you grounded as his citrus aura captivates you again.

Your involuntary clenches ruin him and take him to his peak, several more hard and deep pumps bringing you to your final climax. Both of you cry out loudly enough to scare away the tits still resting in the tree, the small flock flying off to find a quieter perch.

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

Good. That showed the little bastards.

Hawks smiled triumphantly as the small birds fled the erotic scene. Once he was certain that none of them were coming back, he returned his attention to you. Your chest heaved with each audible breath, your entire body drenched in sweat, just like his. He laid a gentle hand on your cheek, thumb stroking lovingly as you close your eyes for much-needed rest after almost losing your mind.

He did it. He finally claimed you, and all he had to do was just show a little dominance…and expose you to a hefty dose of pheromones. It was clearly way more than you could handle—maybe the face-fucking wasn’t the best idea, but it looked like you were enjoying yourself enough. No harm done.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Hawks was a cool-headed man. He’s managed to stay calm and collected in the direst of situations. Still, when he slowly turns around to see a man dressed in the park’s staff uniform, blushing at the sight of a sweaty couple with no pants on among the innocent blossoms, he can’t help but feel just a wee bit fucked.

“H-Hawks? It’s really you? Wha-?” The poor guy is lost for words from the fact that he just found the number 2 hero banging someone in public.

Eh, he’s talked his way out of tighter spots.

With a smile, the winged hero sends a few feathers to his discarded pants and withdraws a pen from its pockets.

“How about a deal, buddy? An autograph from yours truly and a coupon for my merch. All you gotta do is walk away and forget what you just saw.”

[thereaderstea]

I am back! I’ve been having a tough time to be honest and I was wondering if you have any fic recs that deal with mental health/illnesses? Just need fics that let me know I’m not alone here:( - ☂️

welcome back and merry meet, ☂️ carissima! i'm so happy to see you again! i'm sorry to hear you've been having a tough time; i want you to know my inbox and dms are always open if you ever need a listening ear 💜 also, here’s a mental health resource list.

mental health and mental illness are my favorite topics! so i have a lot of them in my library. i have also started reading on and navigating ao3, so i included a couple of fics from there. i included just the mental health warnings for each fic, but please check the fic's warnings before reading as most (if not all) of these fics are heavy and the multi-chaptered fics indicates what each chapter includes.

general warning: these fics (under the cut) may contain topics of mental health, mental illness, physical illness, death, grief/mourning, suicidality, panic attacks, abuse, and more.

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things have never been easy for you but you never expected it’d be them that would make things easier.

heartbeat by minniepetals ➵ot7 x reader | angst, fluff, hurt/comfort | hybrid au | oneshot | 9.7k ➵mental health warnings: mentions of abuse, anxiety, nightmares.

running away from your master is never easy so you deem yourself this will be the last time if you are fatefully brought back to his hold again. so what happens when you stumble upon seven men who says they won’t bring you back? what happens when they promise you their love and care instead?

comforting arms by minniepetals ➵ot7 x reader | fluff, hurt/comfort | established relationship au | drabble | 1.2k ➵mental health warnings: stress, sadness/feeling down.

they come home to find you silently crying to yourself.

What Money Can Buy by @jeonstudios ➵jjk x reader | angst, fluff | oneshot | 17.8k ➵mental health warnings: reader has depression, loneliness, mentions of death.

in need of money, jeongguk signs up as a sugar baby, assuming he’ll be paid for sex by some old kinky woman. he never expected to meet someone like you. what were you doing on that site, and why would you have to pay for company?

A Place Called Home by @agustdakasuga | The Reader's Tea ➵➵ot7 x reader | fluff, angst, hurt/comfort | hybrid au | series | 88.3k ➵arctic fox!seokjin, panther!yoongi, golden retriever!hoseok, wolf!namjoon, calico cat!jimin, tiger!taehyung, rabbit!jungkook,  vet!mc, human!mc ➵mental health warnings: ksj has anxiety, ksj was non-verbal, pjm has PTSD and anxiety, recovery, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, injuries, fighting rings.

Having saved your own injured hybrid, you were determined to try and help any other hybrid that crossed your path who needed saving. But being a vet in a small hospital wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to do more, you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to give them a home.

Fix You by @casuallyimagining ➵myg x reader | fluff, angst, slow burn hurt/comfort | hybrid au | series | ongoing ➵mental health warnings: discussion of physical abuse, emotional abuse, discussion of sexual abuse, discussion of self-harm

When you take in a stray cat, you have no idea he’s secretly a hybrid trying to escape his past. Can you help him heal?

Filtering Light by @sybilwriting ➵jjk x pjm x reader | fluff, angst | hybrid au | series | ongoing ➵bunny!reader, human!jimin, human!jungkook, ft. human!seokjin, human!yoongi, golden retriever!hoseok, tiger!taehyung ➵mental health warnings: mentions of past abuse, allusions of sexual assault, recovery, reader has anxiety and PTSD, panic attacks.

the reader is a bunny hybrid with a past that has left her traumatized and struggling to heal. some things can be helped with therapy, but some things can only be fixed through realizing you’re not all of the things that hurt you—you are, in fact, just loved.

Before I Leave You by @hollyhomburg ➵ot7 x reader | fluff, angst, slow burn, hurt/comfort | omegaverse, mafia au | series | ongoing ➵omega!reader, omega!seokjin, omega!jungkook, beta!yoongi, alpha!hoseok, alpha!namjoon, alpha!jimin, alpha!taehyung ➵mental health warnings: emotional and physical abuse, forced mating marks, graphic murder scenes, negative self-talk, self-esteem issues, non-verbal characters, abandonment, PTSD, hurt/comfort, agoraphobia, implied/referenced self-harm, suicidal thoughts and brief desperate suicide attempt, gender dysphoria, internalized transphobia, internalized misogyny, unintended outings, epilepsy.   

Someone always has to leave first; They just didn’t expect Yoongi to come back with a new omega (who’s clearly been through some shit).

Don’t Worry Love by hollyhomburg ➵jhs x reader, pjm x reader | angst, hurt/comfort | duology | 4.5k ➵mental health warnings: mc has anorexia/eating disorder, anxiety, fainting.

You thought you had your bad habit under control- but when you wake up in a hospital room your boyfriend: Jung Hoseok confronts you- rightfully angry that you nearly starved yourself to death.

Part 1: Don’t Worry Love | Part 2: Just For You

Open Up Baby (Just Let Me In) by hollyhomburg ➵jhs x reader | fluff, hurt/comfort | established relationship au | oneshot | 2.1k ➵mental health warnings: depictions of mental illness, mc has PTSD, night terrors, anxiety attacks, flashbacks, implied abuse.

Hoseok knows that opening up is hard, and that healing is harder. But can see you struggling- but he’s torn, he can’t let you drown under the weight of whatever this is. He just wants to help you. He just wants to know.

Eyes On Me by hollyhomburg ➵knj x reader | fluff, hurt/comfort | established relationship au | oneshot | 4.3k ➵mental health warnings: knj has anxiety and panic attacks.

Kim Namjoon knows how bad his anxiety can get, but when he starts having panic attacks you decide to step in: lakeside hijinks ensue.

Sweet Like Honey (Break Like Glass) by hollyhomburg ➵kth x reader | fluff, angst | established relationship au | oneshot | 6.7k ➵mental health warnings: mentions of body dysmorphia, self-esteem issues, dysphoria, internalized self-hate, references to eating disorder.

Taehyung knows there’s something wrong with his girlfriend; the way she can’t look at herself in the mirror sometimes or the countless other bad days. He makes it his mission to make her feel as beautiful as possible.

eternal sunshine by sunlightvmin (ao3) ➵knj x jjk | angst, domestic fluff, hurt/comfort | android au | oneshot | 13k ➵mental health warnings: epidemic, death, suicide attempt, depression, anxiety disorder, grief/mourning, recovery, philosophical/existential talks, morality. ➵make sure you read/scroll all the way to the bottom because i almost didn’t and nearly lost my heart.

When half of the world dies, Namjoon forgets what it is like to live.

Android JK-0901 helps him learn how to, again.

Calcu-LATER by tae-cup ➵kth x reader, pjm x reader | fluff, angst, humor | college au | series | ongoing ➵ mental health warnings: slight internalized homophobia, anxiety attack, implied disorder.

Math never fails you. The numbers might not always make sense, but you know there must be a solution. Everything fits together like a perfect puzzle, like your tidy life and solitary living…until Kim Taehyung spills paint all over your notebook. He, quite literally, trips into your life.

Ch 1. Gouache on Calculator’s by Kim Taehyung | The Reader’s Tea Ch 2. Social Events? I Think Not | The Reader’s Tea Ch 3. Valentine’s Day | The Reader’s Tea Ch 4. Colossians 3:9 | The Reader’s Tea

it's hard to keep the colors inside the lines by orphan_account (ao3) ➵pjm x knj | college au, cafe au | duology | 38k ➵mental health warnings: pjm has insomnia, implied eating disorder, anxiety, panic attacks, mention of suicide. ➵i actually just started reading this the other day and haven’t been able to finish it yet but i love it so far! knj is an adorable, lanky barista who rambles and pjm is, in the author’s words, “a soft anxious cupcake.”

Park Jimin’s just trying to get through life without collapsing of sleep deprivation. Good thing Kim Namjoon works at a sleep clinic.

If I Only Get A Year With You by hollyhomburg ➵ksj x reader | angst, domestic fluff, hurt/comfort | oneshot | 2.1k ➵mental health warnings: mentions of death and self-harm, grief.

When both of your significant others die in the same car crash there is no one else you can turn to besides your longtime friend, Kim Seokjin. You both run away to grieve, but what you find in your sadness is more than you could have ever hoped for.

Beyond Reach by @jimlingss ➵jhs x reader | angst | grim reaper au, ghost au | series | 6 ch. | ➵priestess!mc, ghost!hoseok, reaper!namjoon, ft. other members ➵mental health warnings: death, topics of suicide, topics of illness.

If someone could see what you could, they’d pass out. But you don't blame them. Who would ever expect for a ghost, a priestess and a grim reaper to be together - much less be rescuing others.

Stay by @deepdarkdelights | The Reader’s Tea ➵pjm x reader (first person pov) | angst | oneshot | 1.8k ➵mental health warnings: topics of death and dying. quote from stay:

“The world was one that had been plunged into darkness, devoid of the sky, devoid of the ground, and devoid of life. It was just the dark mist overhead and me. [...]

Was I even alive, had I ever been born? What is this strange but familiar place?”

here you go, mea ☂️ carissima! i hope you enjoy these stories, and remember that i’m here if you need an ear 💜 i wish you a well journey through your tough times.

sweet water and light laughter till next we meet,

your fellow reading monster, tor-mon 🖤

[blossom-hwa]

hi! can i request a werewolf au + lee know?? if u arent familiar with that au, u can change it to royalty/e2l (ur choice!) thank u in advance ❣

hi love! thanks for the request :) I'm not too comfortable writing werewolf aus, so I hope you don’t mind that I went with the royalty au instead. please enjoy!!

4 year anniversary drabble game: send me a Stray Kids/The Boyz/Golden Child/Ateez member + a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble for you!

(update: there are now two sequels, Warning Song and When the Canary Stops Singing!)

~

Title: Breathe Your Last

Pairing: Minho x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 619

Triggers: blood (semi-graphic)

~

“Your Highness.” The sound of Seonghwa’s voice carries through the door as it creaks open, revealing his face. “Someone is here to see you.”

Minho looks up from his seat behind the desk overflowing with papers and books, rubbing his eyes. Spirits, he needs to stop staying up into odd hours of the night, but that’s impossible with so much work to do... “This late?”

“Yes.” Seonghwa’s face looks a little strange. “Your Highness, I really do think you should see them.”

It’s against Minho’s policy to let people in past midnight. Honestly, he thinks it should be a policy of all normal human beings. But something in Seonghwa’s voice, in the face blurred by Minho’s exhaustion, makes him pause when he opens his mouth to give an immediate ‘no.’ “Why?”

“It’s...” Seonghwa swallows. “It’s Y/N.”

Y/N? You? The first thought that crosses Minho’s mind is to dismiss his servant immediately. There should be no reason to let you in, after all - you’ve never come to him, preferring to let your paths cross when they do so the insults and taunts can flow naturally. Spite tells Minho that that’s the right thing to do in the face of the childish rivalry you two have had since you were teenagers. His mouth opens, ready to give Seonghwa the order.

But then -

Something registers in Minho’s muddled brain. You’ve never come to him before. Ever.

Which means that if you’re here, something must be seriously wrong.

Minho blinks. His blurry vision clears slightly, and he sees why Seonghwa’s face looked so strange before. Skin bloodless, eyes filled with disguised confusion and terror, a spot of blood at the bottom of his chin -

Where did the blood come from?

He stands immediately. Vaguely, he hears several heavy books crash to the floor along with a sheaf of papers, but Minho ignores it. “Take me to them immediately.”

Seonghwa hurriedly leads him through the empty winding halls of the palace. Minho’s heart pounds faster and faster the closer they get to the receiving room, where you would’ve been taken as a visitor -

His servant opens the door. Minho steps in.

The first thing he registers is the blood.  

It cakes your face, dripping down your neck in sticky red rivulets. More pours from a wound on your shoulder that you’ve covered in what seems to be a patch of cloth torn off of your own clothes - he can see the frayed edges, threads sticking out of the ripped area, but more pressing is the fact that the patch is already soaked through with blood.

“Minho.”

His name comes breathless from your throat, choked with terror and anxiety and maybe even blood, Minho doesn’t know - but then you stand and immediately start to sway and he catches you by the arms, steadying you in place. The blood-soaked patch of cloth flutters to the floor. “Y/N -” he manages, trying not to breathe in the smell of blood - “oh gods, Y/N, what happened -”

“Doesn’t matter.” You grip his arms with what seems to be all the strength left in your limbs. “Minho, you -” You cough, and blood spots appear on the front of his chest - “you need to run.”

“Run?” He blinks. “Where? Why?”

Your head rises, gaze turning startling sharp when you meet his eyes. “Anywhere,” you choke. “They’re coming for you.”

Minho can only listen, frozen, his entire body still under your unwavering grip.

“They’re coming for you,” you repeat, blood dripping onto his hands. “And when they find you...”

He looks into your eyes, into the blood on your face, and before you say a word, he knows.

“They’re going to kill you.”

[abbatoirablaze]

Boston--Good Girl's Club Drabble--Sasha

So the ask I received about how Steve and the girls would react, coupled with the song Boston by Augustana is what helped me write this drabble. If you guys wanna listen to that song while reading it, I’d highly suggest it. I legit teared up a few times writing this.

Word Count: 748

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of PPD/the mindset

She took a shaky breath as she looked around the threadbare, single dorm room.

It was nothing like her bedroom. It was nothing like Andy’s house, which had been impeccably decorated.

This was…empty…

A fresh start.

A new beginning.

Somewhere where no one knew her.

Somewhere where they didn’t know what she’d been through.

She wasn’t a teen mom.

She wasn’t someone that was considered sick.

She didn’t need medications here.

Or therapy.

She wiped away a stray tear as Cami’s arm draped around her waist. It was her best friend’s shaky voice that brought her out of her thoughts. Cami’s eyes were glassy, and there were small droplets that had already made their way down her cheeks, “you sure about this?”

“No,” Sasha whispered, her heart racing. She was shaking her head as she bit her bottom lip, “but…I-I can’t stay there, Cami. It-it’s not my path.”

The two women looked to the boxes that had already been stacked along the wall. All things that she would need. Clothes. Books. Her laptop. Bedding. Curtains.

A new start.

She could be anyone here.

“I know,” Cami replied, pulling Sasha towards herself. The two friends shared in a hug while Steve came into the room, holding one of her boxes. He dropped the box with a thud by the door, and looked at his girlfriend and daughter. Cami’s tear-stained cheeks broke his heart, and he wanted to move forward to comfort her, but he knew that he shouldn’t interrupt whatever he’d just walked in on, especially since Sasha hadn’t said a word the whole ride up. Steve sighed and Cami shook her head, “we-we’re okay, Steve.”

“Don’t lie to me bunny,” he sighed again, stepping towards his girls. He wrapped them both up in his large arms, and the women whimpered against his chest, instantly including him. He held back his own tears as he tried to calm them. He needed to be the strong one. For his girls. Steve kissed the crown of his girlfriend’s head, and then his daughter’s, “none of us are okay. A-and that’s okay. We’re not far Sasha. And you can visit us any time, and we can always come up if you want us to.”

“I’m just a text away,” Cami reminded her tearfully as Steve let them go. Cami began wiping the tears away from her face, “don’t go thinking because you go to MIT and I’m dating your dad that you’re too cool for me now…”

“Don’t go thinking because my dad and yours got you a job working at S.H.I.E.L.D that you’re too cool for me,” she tried to joke back, crossing her own arms, “you’re still my best friend!”

“Even if I become your stepmom one day?”

“Even if you get really gross and give me little brothers or sisters,” Sasha laughed tearfully, “you’ll always be my best friend, Cami…nothing will ever change that.”

Steve furrowed his brow at the two women, “still in the room. Bunny? Sash!”

“She’s my best friend Steve,” she sighed softly, walking back towards him as Sasha moved forward and pretended to inspect the room. He leaned down and kissed Cami, “I love you.”

“I love you too, bunny.” He replied. She smiled as she fell into Steve’s side. He wrapped his arm around her.

Cami kept her attention on her best friend, their eyes locking once more as she tried to keep the tears at bay, “you know…we haven’t been apart since we were introduced…I mean, we lived next door to each other for most of our lives…”

“I know.”

“Is it bad that this feels wrong?”

Sasha shook her head, “it feels scary…but not wrong, Cami…you’re meant to be with my dad…and do whatever that life entails…I’m meant to…do something else…I don’t want kids. Or a wedding ring. At least not right now…and Andy…he des-“

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Sash,” Steve sighed, looking to his daughter, “none of us blame you…you have to do what’s best for you…”

“I-I asked Andy and Britt to send me pictures and videos of Michael all the time…but…I just…”

“It’s okay…”

Sasha bit her lip and nodded, looking back to the room, and the boxes that needed to be unpacked, “you guys can go home if you want…I know the drive sucks.”

“You sure?”

She turned and looked at her dad and took another deep breath, before nodding, “y-yeah…I’ll be fine dad…I’ll be okay.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too dad. Love you Cami…”

Chapter 40 (if you chose to read the drabble before the final Ch)

[meeko-mar]

I got another little One-shot idea recently…

It’s kind of part wondering what Toga’s gonna do on the loose, other part my usual BakuDeku drabble. 

Happy Leak Day once again, everyone! :D

Content warning for blood and needles and violence! 

I’ve never written Toga before, but I hope I’ve done her well. 

-*-*-

Late in the night, a single nurse stalked down the hallway. Visiting hours were long since over, and the lockdown the hospital had been placed under made it especially quiet and dismal. The soft squeak of the young man’s tennis shoes drew pause from an orderly behind a desk, and she looked up.

“Oh! I thought you’d gone home!” The orderly remarked, and the young man turned around, scrubs looking a bit disheveled.

“Just one last thing to check and I should be able to sleep,” the man said in an exhausted tone. “I’ll only be a minute.”

The orderly clutched her hands together nervously. It had sounded like the nurse had a bit more of a rasp to his voice than usual, an unfamiliar lilt to his speech. And strangely…The wing he was entering hadn’t even been on his rotation in weeks.

“Ok… And then go home and get some rest.” She said to his back as he continued on his path. He made no acknowledgement of her. “That’s not like him…” she whispered softly.

She noticed, suddenly, the specks of blood smeared in a trail after the nurse, as if a small bit of blood had been smeared to the tip of a shoe. Heart skipping a beat, she hoped she was wrong….as she reached for the after hours emergency phone.

Just in the folds of the nurse’s scrubs, his hand curled around the cold metal of a set of needles. Tennis shoes scuffed softly to a stop as his eyes set on the name plate he’d been searching for.

“Izuku Midoriya”

He smiled with a set of fangs glinting in the darkened hallway.

—

Izuku could sense something was wrong.

The sharp pain in his head roused him from what had been a very light slumber. But in the darkness, the quiet, and amidst all the other tingling and aching sensations of pain, he questioned if the quirk could ever be honed to be less vague.

“…Kac..chan?” He murmured worriedly. He had to let Katsuki know that something didn’t feel right.

The pain blossomed in his head again as the door from the hallway swung open, and suddenly, Izuku was awake. A tall, masculine frame stood in the threshold.

But he knew it wasn’t Katsuki.

…But Katsuki also wasn’t in his bed or his usual seat by Izuku.

Panic began to settle heavily in Izuku’s chest…what was going on?

And with the sedatives in his system, his arms still broken and encased in splints and bandages, he wondered what he could do about it on his own.

The silhouette of the nurse walked to the bed, and the door drew closed behind him, only leaving a sliver of dim hallway light.

“Perfect. I wanted the chance to talk to you alone,” a low strum of a voice sounded from the man. “It’s been so long…Izuku.”

Izuku felt his skin crawl.

“Who are you,” Izuku demanded, in a voice that was breathy from exhaustion. “You’re not one of my regular nurses.”

The nurse placed both hands on Izuku’s bed and leaned over him, eyes seeming to glow brightly from the small light near Izuku’s bed.

“Oh, come on, Izuku. Don’t tell me you don’t know by now…you’ll make me cry!” He crooned, before his expression turned abruptly sour. “Ochako-chan said such mean things already and made me cry. It was horrible.”

Izuku’s mind raced. The mannerisms, the mention of Uraraka. And it hit him.

“Himiko Toga,” he growled, and suddenly found a thick needle pressed to his neck, her other hand planted on the other side of his face.

“That’s much better. Thank you, Izuku-chan.” Toga said, the man’s voice sickly sweet. “You’ve always been so nice.”

“What have you come for?!” Izuku gritted, painfully aware of the needle she was toying with against his bare skin.

“I really wanted to see you when you were still all dirty and bloody! But, there were too many nurses and doctors and all your little friends around you, I couldn’t even get close.” Toga pouted. “But you still took so long to wake up and all I’ve wanted was to ask you, too.”

“Ask me what?” Izuku urged. He didn’t dare give the door a glance, but he was depending on Katsuki. The blonde had never left the room for long, and in the middle of the night with no visitors and nowhere to go outside the wing of the hospital, he could only conclude that he’d be back soon.

Toga smiled a hollow smile.

“I wanted to ask you about Twice. And Mr. Compress. Even Big sis Mag. They all died,” the expression on her disguised face became twisted with anguish. “Did they ever matter to you and other heroes? Did it matter to you that Twice was murdered by a Hero?”

Izuku flinched as the sharp tip of Toga’s needle pressed harder into his skin, just barely short of piercing him.

“I told Ochako-chan about my Quirk. About how I love taking the blood of people I love…Becoming them. Isn’t that nice? I think it’s so thrilling…Getting to know someone, now I can even get to know their Quirk!” Izuku’s face twitched with surprise, at her words just then.

“Get to know our Quirk?” Izuku rasped, speaking softly, careful of his own movement with her imminent threat. “What do you mean by that?” Toga giggled. One yellow, catlike eye stared back at him as the skin of her face bubbled around it.

“It’s just that, Izuku! If I love someone very much, I can even use their Quirk when I become them!” Toga smiled a dark and fangy grin as the rest of her disguise melted away. “I know. Because I already used Ochako-chan’s Quirk! I used it and killed someone who was trying to kill me!”

Izuku suddenly felt ice cold. The twinge in his head returned and he consciously resisted gritting his teeth against the sudden pain.

“I feel closer to them, you know? Like how I feel closer to you, Izuku-chan, and Ochako-chan, when I become you.” She cocked her head, bangs that were usually a bit more straight-kept tilting around her glowing eyes and pink cheeks.

“Are we wrong Izuku? Do you think I’m wrong? Am I bad for wanting the world to like me and my friends like they like your friends? You don’t have to change to be loved…You don’t have to hold back your powers. Why should we? Is that wrong?” Her pleas became more desperate, her body shaking. “Was Twice…wrong too? Tell me, Izuku…”

Izuku cried out softly as she plunged the needle into a thick part of his neck, and she leaned toward him, long stray strands of blonde hair draping down to his green curls. She seemed to turn from sweet and sad to deadly and angry, as blood began to fill the vial on the needle. Her pupils narrowed at him.

But even so, Izuku could not help but notice as he glared up at her, unable to fight back…

Toga had tears in her eyes.

“Did Twice deserve to die??”

Izuku gaped up at her, swallowing the swell of pain from his neck.

“Do you think….I deserve to die, too??” With that, her tears spilled and ran down her cheeks. “Because I want a different life!?” 

“I…” Izuku couldn’t know where to start with that question. The drain of his blood made it so hard to continue to concentrate. “Toga, I–,”

At that moment, a creak from the door, and a clatter sounded behind Toga.

Both gazes turned, and found Katsuki, his hands suddenly empty, two bottles of juice at his feet. Red eyes smoldered dangerously, wide and locked on Himiko Toga. He’d already sunk into a defensive stance, palms up and tiny explosions already popping at his fingertips.

“YOU.” Was Katsuki’s thunderous growl. “Get the Hell out and DIE!!” 

Before Toga could collect herself, Izuku made his move. 

An arc of Black Whip shot out of his mouth, and launched to apprehend his assailant. He’d managed to capture only one arm, as he hurled her into the opposite wall, and flinched as the needle tore out of his skin, still grasped tightly in her other hand.

Not missing his cue, Katsuki leapt at her and pinned her free arm to the wall, his other hand poised, palm open and crackling with orange glow. 

Katsuki looked over his shoulder to check on Izuku, seeing the stream of blood dripping down his neck and beginning to stain the fabric of his shirt. Back to Toga, he saw the needle still in her pinned hand, the same bright red sloshing around in the glass. With a deep rumble in his chest, he bared his teeth.

“You’re gonna fucking regret that, villain,” He seethed, anger glowing in his crimson eyes.

“Katsuki Bakugou. It’s been a while.” Toga drawled in a bemused tone, yellow eyes narrowed at him. “You interrupted us. I won’t forget that.” 

“Kacchan, I can’t hold her for long,” Izuku gasped around the now flickering tendril. His energy was depleting fast despite his struggle to remain in the fight. “If-if I could just get out of this bed…I could be more useful–” He wriggled uncomfortably in his bed, stretching out legs that still felt so weak and useless. It took far too much effort to bend just one of his knees in an effort for leverage without his arms.

“Hey, don’t you fucking dare!! Stay the hell down, Deku!” Katsuki barked over his shoulder just as he saw the flicker of green sparking through Izuku’s hair. His eyes slid back to Toga’s sour expression. “That girl at the desk was actually smart enough to know better and sound the alarm. The guards are gonna be here any second. They can take care of this.”

The sound of heavy footsteps hammered outside their room, and some of the lights came up on command of a distant control panel. Izuku summoned all of his strength to maintain his Quirk until help arrived, but Toga seemed to decide for herself that her game was up. Taking advantage of Izuku’s weakened state, she snapped through Black Whip with another needle in hand and brought it swinging towards Katsuki’s side. 

“Kacchan!!” Izuku yelled weakly, at the exact time Katsuki countered with a small explosion against Toga’s arm. Toga yelped, but didn’t give in, and was able to land her needle into the meat of his forearm instead. Katsuki cursed, the glass vial attached already filling with stolen blood. He snarled, and doubled his efforts and grappled her wrist to keep her there.  

“You took a really bad hit during that battle, didn’t you, ‘Kacchan’?!” Toga laughed, stealing Izuku’s nickname for him. In the same instant, she brought a knee straight up to connect with Katsuki’s stomach just enough to send a piercing jolt through his still-healing wound, both hands immediately loosening enough for Toga to break free. “That’s what I thought!”

“Kacchan!!” Izuku cried again, as Katsuki stumbled against the wall where he’d just had her cornered. His face contorted as pain mixed with rage, and he thrust another barely restrained explosion at her exposed leg as she darted across the room. As the guards ran in to protect the two teenagers, he grit his teeth and instead pressed himself against the wall, out of the way. His Quirk was no good in here anyway, with so much expensive equipment in the way and more importantly, the risk of endangering any other patients in the area with structural or fire damage to the inside of the building, he couldn’t go all out in battle even though he wanted to.

Now completely herself and two vials of blood in tow, she had bolted to the window and punched the glass hard. The shards fell around her in sparkling bits as she withdrew a bleeding arm. Vases, cards and flowers that were gifted to the two boys over the past week, rained onto the floor as she scaled the counter in front of the window sill and she climbed over all the debris, bare feet finally on the threshold.

“Toga, What you’re doing is wrong!” Izuku yelled quickly over the chaos. She paused, curtains billowing around her, staring icily at him. “But I don’t want you to die for it!! So please…Just stop all this!” 

“Deku what the hell,” Katsuki grumbled.

Toga hesitated with a surprised blink at Izuku, before leaping off the ledge and into the night, just out of reach of the guards. A couple of them, no doubt with apt Quirks for the task, pursued, jumping out the open window after her.

“D-Dammit, you guys could have grabbed her,” Katsuki spat, hands held against his stomach. He had healed quite well so far, considering the damage he’d taken, but a direct attack, no matter how weak, was more than a little concerning. He was still seeing stars pop in his vision.

“Kacchan, I’m so sorry, are you okay?!” Izuku cried desperately from his bed, cranking his neck as high as he could to see Katsuki huffing against the wall. The voices of the guards around them continued as the situation was assessed, but Izuku didn’t take any heed of them. 

Two nurses rushed in as well, one to Izuku and one to Katsuki.

“Fuck it, Deku, I’m fine.” Katsuki growled, voice still cracking a bit from the sudden onslaught of pain. “I don’t need any damn help,” He said it even as he allowed the nurse to walk him to his bed. 

Izuku’s gaze was locked on Katsuki as his own nurse applied pressure to his bleeding neck. Katsuki had lain back against his pillows and closed his eyes in a concentrated effort to ride out the pain. Izuku released the tension in his body only when the nurses examination concluded that Katsuki’s wounds would be fine, and no internal bleeding was present. His arm was promptly bandaged. 

Reports were filed with the police and the Heroes closest to them, It was also decided, urgently, that they needed a more secure location to recover. They were moved to a room further in the hospital, in fact, one with thicker, heavily constructed walls and stronger security measures that was more often utilized as a room for lower-level villains to be safely treated for any injuries obtained from scuffles with Heroes before moving on to have their fates decided. Guards with Quirks and without were posted around their room this time, as further precaution. 

A search was also initiated to find the poor nurse who had been used as her unwilling donor. The poor orderly who had raised the alarm and who was the man’s friend, was shaken up and under the care of the police, waiting on any news.

It felt strange to be carted into this new barricaded room, in a wing that looked like it transformed from a normal hospital to almost that of a sterile jail wing. But, considering everything that had happened in the last hour and the harrowing tales of villain activity from outside the walls, the two boys silently resigned themselves to the new, more depressing surroundings. This, unfortunately, was the next logical step if they were to hope to finish recovering safely.

Izuku laid back and stared at the ceiling, distantly observing that it was made of some sort of fortified composite material, contrast to the rather ordinary ceiling tiles from before.

It was almost morning but he’d not slept at all. Everything that had happened was whirring around in his head. Sometimes he would see shadows in the room and fear that it was Toga. Every once and a while, he grit his teeth from the throbbing ache of his neck.

“She won’t be back,” Katsuki muttered, just as restless in his own bed. “This place is on high alert. She’s a stealth type, not a powerhouse. And now she’s injured, too. Stop worrying and get some sleep.” 

“She got both of our blood, though…That’s worry enough, isn’t it?” Izuku whispered, not wanting those outside to know that they were not asleep. Like some sort of twisted version of a sleepover that he never got to have with Katsuki. “What would she end up doing with it…?” Izuku pondered, trying to calculate the villainess’s next plan. As well as how it figured in to the escaped League, and All For One’s plan.

He had to guess–if not just hope– that his Quirk wouldn’t be accessible to her, just as it had acted like a dud when Monoma had tried to copy it. He would ask All Might what he thought in the morning.

Katsuki huffed. 

“Stop trying to figure everything out at once. You’re gonna give yourself a migraine. Or a damn panic attack.” He told Izuku gruffly. Red eyes slid to look at Izuku, his pensive face scrunched in a pout as it often was while Izuku was deep in thought. “Hey. What the heck were you yelling at her about back there?” 

Izuku snapped out of his own thoughts and turned to meet Katsuki’s impatient gaze. 

“Oh? Oh. That.” Izuku sighed. “She…asked me if I thought she deserved to die. If her friends deserved to die.” Izuku’s face scrunched in thought. "Something was off. She was in tears about it. She seemed so broken.”

“Deku.” Katsuki pressed. “I know where this shit is going, you think she wants to be saved, but…” He hesitated, to measure his words, and met Izuku’s green gaze. “We can’t afford to pull our punches with these guys.”

“I know,” Izuku sighed softly, sinking into his pillow and green curls pushing over his cheeks. So much carnage he’d witnessed came to mind. “I’m not planning on letting anyone off the hook for what they’ve done, they’re criminals still, at the end of it all… But I can’t ignore the part of them that’s crying for help.”

“Tch. That’s what drives me insane about you.” Katsuki grumbled. But, he knew, that’s what also made him distinctly ‘Deku’. Crimson eyes, half lidded with exhaustion, traced over Deku’s outline in the dim light once more.

“Sorry, kacchan.” Izuku mumbled, sleep seeming to finally be coming for him. “I know you don’t like it, but…I can’t help…it.”

Katsuki watched until Izuku finally drifted off, and swallowed hard. 

“Yeah…I know you can’t,” he sighed into the quiet of the morning.

—-

Bonus junk:

– 

Katsuki: Get the Hell out and DIE!

Toga: WTF I LITERALLY WASN’T ASKING YOU

Izuku: Maybe, not the best timing for that line, Kacchan… *deadpan*

–

Izuku: *jumps out from his sheets, legs ready to kick some ass with OFA, arms dangling, utterly useless* I’VE HAD WORSE

Katsuki: NO YOU FUCKING HAVEN’T SIT THE FUCK DOWN BEFORE I KILL YOU!!

–

Izuku: Sorry, Kacchan, I can’t help it….

Katsuki: *stares at the ceiling* You are going to be the death of me

—-

—-

Sometimes when its really slow at work I can let my brain just entertain itself and sometimes I get fanfic ideas out of it. *SHRUG* Hope you liked it! 

Katsuki left for like five minutes to the vending machine down the hall and this is what he gets.

This is something I imagine falls after they initially wake up and have *THE TALK* that we’ve all been waiting for. I imagine him sticking to Izuku like glue, expressly for the purpose of guarding him while his arms recover. 

Edit: Oops, one more note, She mentioned Mr. Compress dying because I think that she might be under that impression in the current time in the manga. He’d probably be treated under lock and key(maybe in the same specialized wing I wrote the boys into at the end?) but it wouldn’t be widely advertised to the public where Toga could hear about his survival. She might, however, know that he pulled a very dangerous sacrificial move, though.

[sailorshadzter]

yet another season 8 fix it fic. 

was meant to be a drabble, but hey, what can you do. 

Her breath catches, eyes stinging in the acidic smoke that fills the air.

Footsteps distract her and she shifts, watching as the wild eyed dragon queen storms away from where she stands, unable to face the burning of the bodies. She swivels back to face front, watching as the flames consume those lost in the battle, those who died so the rest of them could be standing where they are now. Her hand aches, wounded by a blade the night before, but she tightens it into a fist all the same, the pain a reminder that she still yet lives. Pain... It is all she knows.

A touch to her arm is like electricity and she turns into it, facing him with a solemn gaze. "I must speak with you," he says, voice hoarse, those Stark colored eyes of his staring deep into hers, gaze so intense she can't bring herself to look away. At her feet, Ghost whines for a pat, but she cannot move, she's frozen there in his gaze. "Please... Sansa." His hand reaches for hers, unknowing, and she winces, pulling free from his grasp.

"There's nothing left to say." She whispers, shaking her head, though there's dozens of things she thinks she could say.  

She turns from him then, back to face the burning pyre that is Theon's, though she closes her eyes; like the dragon queen, she cannot face this either. It takes several moments for Jon to sigh and walk away from where she stands, though Ghost does not stray from where he sits at her feet. When he's left her side, she opens her eyes.

Perhaps it was not death that she could not face after all.

[ x x x ]

Snow is gently falling, covering the scars of the battlefield.

She's lost track of the time since she sat herself beneath the heart tree, but here is the only place she seems to find any solace. Any ounce of peace at all. Inside, the servants work tirelessly to prepare for the feast they've got planned- a celebration of life, of the win they've taken over the Night King. But, Sansa doesn't feel much like celebrating. Not when everything feels so very wrong.

And it isn't just the loss of Theon that plagues her. It's the nightmarish images that haunt her mind from down below in the crypts. It's the sound of flesh tearing from bone, it's the screams of the dying as the animated corpses of her long lost ancestors tore innocent women and children limb from limb before her very eyes. It's the knowledge that in the end, she was useless, that she could not protect anyone, that perhaps in the end she was not cut out for the title she wished so desperately was hers.

"Sansa?"

She looks up, so lost in thought she's not noticed Jon's approaching footsteps. It's him, too... It's Jon that hurts her, loves her, haunts her. "I've been looking everywhere for you." He sounds worried and for a single instant, she feels contrite. But then she remembers and she turns away once more, tucking her chin back into place against her knees, which she's drawn tightly against her chest.

He knows she's angry with him and Jon cannot blame her. Did you bend the knee to save the North, or because you love her? Her words still yet haunt him, still yet remind him that even she thinks he's given up his title, his place as King in the North, all because he's fallen in love with the dragon queen. If only she knew. If only, if only. He knows he must be honest with her, she deserves the truth, and yet... He bows his head, shamed, thinking perhaps he does not deserve to speak to her when he has yet to be honest with her about anything at all.

"I thought I might find some time to myself before the feast," her voice breaks into his thoughts and Jon raises his gaze from his feet to where she sits just ahead, shrouded in shadow as the sun sets beyond the horizon. To his surprise, she raises her own head, blue eyes staring intently up at him before she unlatches her arms from around her knees so she might pat the spot beside her, an invitation for him to sit beside her. And that's when he notices the bandages wrapped around her palm, something he had not noticed earlier that day at the funeral.

"Your hand!" He nearly shouts, unable to control the tone of his voice as he sinks down in front of her instead, taking her hand into his own as gently as he can. "You... You were injured?" He raises his wide eyed gaze from her battered hand back to her feet, catching the red tint of her ivory cheeks just before the last of the sunlight dies overhead, casting them into the pale light of the moon instead. It illuminates her, weaving into her crimson hair, giving her an ethereal look he's never seen before. "I'm sorry," he whispers, still clinging to her hand, hyper aware that she's made no movement to pull away from him. "I should have... I didn't..." Guilt fills him up, threatening to spill over, guilt for far more than just this hand injury.

To his surprise, she smiles, and in the moonlight it softens her. "It's not your fault," she comments softly, her other hand sliding into place over his, fingers cold from the winter air. "How were you to know what would happen down there?" Though they've not talked about what she witnessed down in the crypts, Jon saw the faces of the survivors, heard the testimony from Tyrion and the others. It was not just those on the battlefield that saw truly horrific things. "I only wanted..." She stops herself, closing her eyes as if she's reliving whatever it was she saw that night. When she opens her eyes, Jon sees that tears have filled them. "I only wanted to protect them."

He cannot take it any longer.

And so he reaches for her then, tugging her into his embrace without a single word. She gives into his touch, sinking into his chest, face buried into the crook of his shoulder as she softly cries. They have not been this close since the day he returned- he's not held her in his arms or breathed in the scent of her. He's missed her, more than his words could ever say. "I'm sorry," is all he can whisper, a mantra against her sweet smelling hair, his arms tightening their grip upon her shaking frame. He cares not how long they must sit there like this, he would stay forever if that was what she wished.

But finally, after what might be a lifetime or perhaps only several moments, she pulls back, wiping at her eyes as she murmurs an apology of her own. "Don't apologize," he says, reaching out his hand to catch a final tear drop before it falls from her lashes. "I am the one who's sorry," he goes on again, shaking his head when she means to interrupt. "Aye, you're right, I didn't know what would happen down there, but I should have been more careful." He holds his hand into place against the curve of her cheek, staring into her eyes there in the darkness of the night. "You're everything to me, Sansa," he admits without hesitation, the confession falling from his lips before he can stop himself. Her eyes widen, cheeks stained with red as his words take root within her brain. "You are the most precious thing in my life, I should have been more wary about sending you or anyone else down there."

Her heart is beating so quickly inside of her chest that she thinks surely Jon must hear it. She swallows against the new wave of emotion rushing through her, a smile curving upon her lips as she holds to his gray eyed gaze. "Jon... I..." She doesn't know what to say to this heartfelt admission of his, though she's longed to hear him say such a thing to her.

"You don't have to say anything." He says softly, his hand sliding from it's place against her cheek; she feels cold without it there. "I just... I just wanted to tell you. I should have before." He knows, deep down, just truly how long he's harbored these feelings for her. For his so-called half sister. That reminds him... What he wanted to speak to her of. "Sansa, I..."

"There you are!"

A new voice interrupts them and at once, Jon springs up to his feet as Arya approaches them, a very knowing look on her bruised features. Whatever thoughts she has about discovering her two older siblings in such a way together, she keeps to herself, but rather comes to stand just before them. "The feast is to start, but I've been told it can't start without either of you." She says, gesturing back towards Winterfell, which looms in the darkness behind them. "And if I know Sansa, she has a new dress to put on." Arya's face cracks with a grin, a sight that brings a laugh from both Jon and Sansa's mouths, as the latter nods, for indeed she did have a new gown to wear. "So get on with it." Arya waves her hand in a gesture of goodbye, then turns, slinking back towards Winterfell without a backwards glance. Truth was, she wasn't all that surprised to find Jon and Sansa sitting so close; she wasn't stupid, she's seen the looks they share, even if they think no one else notices.

Turning back to Sansa, Jon reaches out a hand, a silent offer; she takes it, allowing him to pull her up onto her feet. Brushing snow from her skirts, she smiles for him, wishing that their time alone might never have to end. "I'll walk you to your rooms." Jon says, his hand still wrapped in hers. She nods and together they fall into step beside one another, only after Sansa has looped her arm through his.

As they walk up the path, back towards Winterfell, neither one of them notice the violet eyes that peer down at them from a window, watching until they disappear from sight inside the palace.

When they reach her door, Jon hesitates.

He finds he doesn't wish to leave her side, though it's only a matter of time before he sees her again. "I will... See you down there, I suppose." He says, hand to the back of his head, nervously running through his curls as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. And then he turns, as if he means to leave, knowing she has much to do to prepare herself for the feast down below.

"Jon..." She reaches for him, keeping him there a moment longer. "Earlier, you said you had to talk to me." She recalls his soft pleading from that morning, when she had been full of anger and remorse and guilt. "Tell me..."

To her surprise, he smiles before shaking his head. "It can wait." He decides, knowing for even just one night more, he wants things to remain as they are. She smiles and nods, before her hand slips away and so does she, disappearing behind her door with a little wave of her bandaged hand.

It takes him several moments, but finally, he walks away.

[ x x x ]

When she appears at the feast, Jon is mesmerized.

She is radiant in her gown of fish scales, the material shimmering blue and green as it catches the firelight. Every pair of eyes in the room is upon the Lady of Winterfell as she slips into the hall, blushing as the Northern lords send up a cheer on her behalf. Jon spares Daenerys a quick glance, who at his side, is also watching Sansa as she comes towards them at the head table; the dragon queen wears her true feelings upon her ivory features, but Sansa seems to not care, or perhaps not even notice her, as she glides right on by to take the chair at Jon's other side.

"Your gown," he comments, as everyone falls back into their previous conversations. "It's nice." Somehow, they've been here before and they both smile with the knowledge of it. "I like the scales." It's proof of the pride she has in her Tully heritage, a homage to the mother she loves and misses every single day of her life.

"Thank you," she murmurs, once again blushing, though somehow deeper than when the lords cheered her name. "I've been working on it since you left for Dragonstone." All her weeks alone, she worked on the gown, made from material left behind in one of her mother's old trunks. Upon her initial discovery of the fabric, she had been still yet too wounded to make something from it, but somehow, Jon's leaving all those weeks ago had prompted her to begin a gown.

Jon opens his mouth to speak, but the clinging of a glass overtakes his voice and they both turn to face the table of Northern lords, where Lord Royce has risen to his feet, prepared to speak on behalf of them all.

And so the feast could begin.

[ x x x ]

He is still yet drunk when he stumbles from his rooms, following his conversation with Daenerys. It is late, so late that the torches have nearly gone out in the corridors, but he presses on until he's at her door. Suddenly, the late hour doesn't matter, all that matters is that he sees her face.

When she opens her door, she's dressed for bed, but her fur robe is thrown over her shoulders, her cheeks pink from drinking, but she looks worried. Not that he can blame her- what can she expect from a knock so very late at night? But at the sight of him there, she's stepping back, allowing him the space so he might slip inside of her rooms. "I'm sorry, I..." He begins, shaking his head as he steps into the center of the room, the fire blazing in the hearth telling him she had no plans of retiring soon. "I had to see you." The words are simple, but they are the truth.

Sansa knows he's not in his right mind and it's not just from the alcohol he's consumed that night. No, she knows this look, though he's tried to hide it from her; he's been with Daenerys. And from the looks of him, it didn't go well. "Sit," she murmurs, drawing him towards the hearth, towards a chair that she had only just been occupying. Across the room, much to his joy, Ghost snoozes in her bed. "I'm glad you came." She admits, sinking down to his level, her blue gaze calming him as he meets her eyes. "I was too afraid to come to you."

Her words sink into his brain, which stops whirling almost at once, the meaning of what she's said dawning upon him. "You are the most precious person to me, too," she whispers, rosy lips curving with her smile, the truth falling from them easing the weight that's sat upon her heart for far too long. "I care not what anyone thinks, Jon, I... I...-"

She cannot finish, for he kisses her.

It's a fierce kiss, a kiss that he's been holding in for weeks, no, months. It's a kiss that fills her with warmth, with courage, a kiss that tells her so many things that his words could not. Though he hates to do so, he breaks it, drawing back just so he might slip his hands into place on either side of her face, staring intently into her blue eyes. "Sansa... About earlier, about what I wanted to say to you..." She gives a single nod and then the words begin to fall from his lips, weaving for her the same tale that Sam had spun for him the night before the battle with the Night King.

By the time he's finished, she's already sunk into place in his lap, her weight warm, comforting. "Then Jon... That means..." He shakes his head, for her already knows what she's about to say. As if she understands him, she smiles somewhat, leaning in so she can tip her forehead against his. "You'll always be a Stark to me," her voice is a thread, a whisper of smoke, but the words mean everything to him. "No matter who your father or mother was, you'll always just be Jon, always." He crushes her against him, breathing in her rose scented hair, knowing that not even the Gods themselves could pull him from her right then.

"I love you," he murmurs, his breath warm against the shell of her ear, his hand sliding into place against her chest just so he might feel her heart beat into his palm. "I have wanted to tell you for so long. I love you, I love you." She nuzzles in closer, the closeness of him everything she's ever wanted, ever needed.

Once, she had not believed in love. Once, she had thought there to be only monsters in men's clothing, no knights in shining armor. Once, she had not believed in anything at all. But Jon had changed that, Jon had proven her wrong. In him she had found love, had found what it felt like to be safe. Truly and utterly safe. For the first time since she had left Winterfell all those years ago, she felt loved. Protected. Wanted. "I love you, too," she whispers back, wondering just when she had gone from despising the touch of a man to wishing Jon might only touch her more. "Come to bed with me..." She goes on, softer still, her mouth finding his for another kiss, this one much softer, slower, but with just as much meaning.

Without waiting, he adjusts his hands upon her and rises up to his feet with her in his arms. She gives a squeak of surprise, but her arms loop his neck seconds later, securing her place in his grasp as he crosses the room towards her bed, which as they approach, Ghost relinquishes his place upon it, taking up the rug before the hearth instead. He deposits her into her bed and only once he's kicked off his shoes does he slide into place beside her. He turns onto his side and she slips into place, head on his chest, his arm around her as somewhere in the back of his drunken mind, he realizes just what they're doing.

He's longed for this moment for so long. To lay beside her in bed, not when she's crept into his from a nightmare, not when she needs him to hold her so she feels safe again. But so he might hold her so she knows just how loved she is, to tuck her into the space beside him and watch her sleep a peaceful sleep. This moment, more than anything, is all he's ever really wanted.

And so he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep.

[ x x x ]

In the morning, he wakes before the morning call with a pounding headache, silently cursing himself for the amount of drinking he'd done the night before. As he adjusts to the waking world, he realizes, with a jolt, that it is not his bed he resides in.

Sitting himself up, Jon looks to the side and sees the sweetest of sights; Sansa, with her red hair spread out against her pillow, sleeping peacefully. And so he realizes, it was not a dream he'd had that night, but entirely real. Reaching out, he tenderly strokes her hair, wondering how a man such as himself could find happiness like this. How after all he's done, he could find love in a woman such as her. Smiling to himself, Jon leans over her, just to press a soft kiss to her temple; she stirs, but does not wake, rather she shifts a bit closer to where he sits beside her, as if even in her sleep she needs to be near him. It pains him to do so, but he knows he must slip away, for it would be no time at all before one of her maids or Brienne appear to wake her and prepare her for the day at hand.

And so he slides free from the furs and stuffs his feet back into his discarded boots, sparing her a single glance before he's gone from her rooms. But for the rest of the day, he won't forget that feeling of waking up at her side.

It carries him through the long hours of war meetings, it carries him through every sharp glare from violet eyes. And every time blue eyes glance his way, he is warmed through, a secret smile never far from her lips when his eyes find hers, even from across the room.

She would always give him strength, no matter the fight that lay ahead.

[ x x x ]

He's gone to war again, but this time, it's not for a woman he loves.

In truth, Jon knew what he had to do when he got to King's Landing, he knew what he must do to keep Sansa and their family safe. And so he had gone, not knowing just what would happen when he got there.

But he should have known, he should have known that Daenerys would not stop until she had everything she wanted. Once again, he is the Northern fool, and innocent people must pay the price for it.

And when they're standing together in the crumbling ruins of the Red Keep, the Iron Throne just behind them, he's sick with what he's seen. Sick with what she's done to get to where she stands right then, right there. "Break the wheel with me," she's whispering, violet eyes pleading with his, her lips wobbling as she smiles for him.

When she kisses him, Jon plunges his dagger into her chest. As the light fades from her eyes, Jon knows he's done right by the realm, by his family. This was for them, this was for Sansa; he had once vowed to protect her and he would do whatever it took to keep her safe. Even shed the blood of his own kin.

Her soldiers come not much later and though they take him in chains, he knows it was worth whatever price he must pay.

[ x x x ]

In the end, he is freed from his dungeon and trades his chains for a crown.

They call him the King that Saved Them All, the King of Wolves, the White Wolf of Winterfell. In the streets of King's Landing, they cheer for him, the man that saved them from the tyranny of another Targaryen rule. And they cheer for her- they cheer for the young woman they once thought they might call queen, but to another man. They sing her praises and blow her kisses, not that he blames them, for she is easy to love. It's at her recommendation that the town be rebuilt before the Red Keep and she is beloved for that. They will remember that for all of their lives. As will he.

In that moment, Jon finds himself occupying a room that was not demolished in the fall of the Red Keep. Though he plans to return North quite soon with Sansa so he might witness her coronation as Queen in the North, they have yet to leave, for she insists they stay until all of the plans on the rebuilding of the town are set into place. Just as she oversaw the preparations for the survival of Winterfell and the North against the Night King, she oversees the plans for the rebuild without fail, speaking her mind without fear. There was not a single person in King's Landing who did not speak against her.

The door opens and as if his thoughts have summoned her, she's coming into the room, her red hair twisted back in braids. She has traded in her thick, woolen Northern gowns for lighter, more airy Southern sort of ones, this particular one a soft shade of sage that reminds him of spring, of what was yet to come. "I have not seen you all day, sweetheart," he observes as she sinks into the chair nearest to him. "Hard at work running my own kingdoms, are you?"

At his words she laughs, but to his surprise she shakes her head. "I was with the injured," she admits after a moment, locking her eyes with his. "I only wanted to be certain they were being well taken care of." They had maester's from all over summoned to King's Landing to care for those who had been injured in the sacking of the city. Jon blinks and without a word, rises up from where he sits to kiss her, long and slow. "What was that for?" She giggles when he pulls back, though his face remains passive, eyes never once leaving hers.

"You are too good for this world," he says softly, cupping her face with his palm, which she leans into with a slight smile. "I am undeserving of you."

To this, she shakes her head, hand sliding into place over his. "You are too hard on yourself," she muses, lacing her fingers with his as it falls from its place on her cheek. He draws her hand close to his mouth, only so he can press a kiss against the small scar that's left from the wound she received in the crypts."Besides, I am only doing what's right." She thinks of those innocent lives lost, the ones that could not be saved, and she's reminded of those lost in the crypts during the battle against the Night King. She thinks back to long ago, to the riot she had been trapped in back during Joffrey's reign, back to when she had learned the truth of what it was like to live among the townsfolk. The truth of what starvation might do to a man. No matter what, she would never let such a thing happen to these people again, and she knows Jon won't either.

"They will miss you more than they will miss me when we go North again," Jon can't help but to chuckle, but truth is, he doesn't mind. At his words, she too laughs, but she doesn't get the chance to speak before there comes a knock on the door. "Come in," Jon calls, straightening up where he stands, though his hand remains entwined with hers. The door opens and it's Brienne there, come to surely fetch her lady for yet another meeting.

"Your graces," she bows, already quick to refer to her lady as queen, though she's yet to be crowned. "They're asking for you down in the main hall, something about a visitor." Brienne speaks to Sansa, who blinks, surprise taking root, but she nods before rising up to her feet.

As she moves to step away from him, Jon catches her again by the hand, drawing her in to kiss. "When you return, I thought we might discuss what else we will do when we return North." A smile spreads over her face and she nods, giving his hand a tight squeeze before she's gone, following after Brienne to see who has come to call.

When she's gone, Jon can't help but to smile and wonder, as he does at least once everyday, how he ever got to be so lucky.

[ x x x ]

The day after her coronation as Queen in the North, they marry in the godswood.

The following day, Arya sets sail for the edge of the maps, with Gendry Baratheon at her side. They watch from the docks of White Harbor, waving goodbye as her ship disappears in the distance. "She'll be fine," Jon says as he slips his arm around her, noticing the tears that streak her cheeks as she waves goodbye to her little sister. "And she'll be back before you know it." Sansa nods, knowing it was true, Arya would return to them someday. This was not like the last time that they separated, this time, she knew her sister was alive and well. She did not have to worry if she would ever see her again. But she can't help but to feel sorrow, knowing that despite it all, their little pack was driven apart once again. And though she was Queen in the North, she knows her place is at Jon's side, and soon they would return to King's Landing for yet another coronation- this time for the both of them, a double crowning for the new King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Though the North would remain independent, they were united in marriage. After all they had done to secure Winterfell as their own, they would have to leave it again. "You know... I was thinking..." Jon's voice breaks into her thoughts and she shifts towards him, her face dry from her tears. "Once we're crowned in King's Landing... I thought we might return North."

Her surprise is evident and the look upon her face brings a laugh from his lips.  "I... I don't understand. Your place is in King's Landing." She says, blinking fast, turning entirely towards him now, his arm falling from its place around her waist. "The King of the Iron Throne always remains in King's Landing."

"Aye, but I'm not the King of the Iron Throne, am I?" He shrugs, the sight of her face sending a rush of joy through him. "There is no Iron Throne left for me to be king of. And truth is, Stark men don't fair well in the South, do they?" At that, she chokes on a sound torn between a laugh and a sob. "Of course, we'll have to go from time to time, once the thaw comes... But I thought we might make a new capitol, right here in Winterfell." She throws her arms around him then, telling him all he needed to know.

"Thank you," she whispers into his ear, knowing without a doubt, it was she that was undeserving of him. Still smiling, Jon takes her by the hand and leads her back towards their horses, which were stabled nearby. And then...

He takes her home.

[spicykoreantatertots]

Crystal Snow

Pairing: Jimin x Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 832

Rating: PG

Genres: SFW, Angst

Summary:  Jimin comes to visit your grave.

Warnings: Themes of death, grief, moving on. 

A/N: It’s Christmas in July. Here’s a sad story for you. 

This is part of my new drabble series that I’m doing for ficswithluv’s Bulletproof Bingo! 24 drabbles in 12 days so I can get that blackout before the deadline. See my challenge post here and the master list here! Message or send an ask to be on the taglist!

This has not been beta read, please be kind! 💜

~~~~~~~

Jimin steps into the florist shop, greeted by Soobin, the boy who is always working when he comes in. He strolls around the shop browsing the bright and colorful flowers. The house plants look like they are in dire need of some sunlight. 

“What are you looking for today, Jimin?” Soobin asks from behind the counter. 

“I’m not sure.” Jimin responds quietly, fiddling with the leaves of a spider plant. 

“Well we have these really nice poinsettias. They stand up really well to the cold weather.” Soobin offers. He brings a pot of the bright red flowers over for Jimin to inspect. 

When Jimin sees them, a faint smile crosses his face. These were always your favorite this time of year. Red flowers, green leaves, a classic Christmas combination. He purchases the flowers and braces himself to exit the warm building. 

It’s been too long since Jimin has come to visit you. He feels bad, but maybe the large bouquet of poinsettias will make it up to you. It makes him remember the last Christmas that the two of you shared together. 

The apartment always smelled of cinnamon or gingerbread. If it wasn’t freshly baked cookies it was candles placed so carefully. The place was small, but you still managed to set up a full sized Christmas tree. The decorations were multicolored, each one represented a memory that the two of you shared. 

As he walks, the cold wind picks up. He’s wearing a big tan jacket, but he wishes he had remembered to get his ear muffs. The walk from the florist is not very long, but it is one of the coldest days of the year. Christmas Eve. 

He should be curling up next to you on the couch, drinking a mug of cider or hot chocolate. Maybe exchanging gifts early so that you can sleep in on Christmas morning. Jimin should be whispering in your ear, sweet nothings, declarations of his love. But instead, he is on his way to visit your grave. 

The ground is covered with a thin blanket of white snow that crunches with each step he takes. He’s not the only one who’s been walking this path. There are foot prints intersecting and veering away from the walkway. Other people going to visit their loved ones on this special day.

But it’s getting late now, the cemetery is quiet. The temperature is dropping as the sun goes down, but he wants to talk to you. He arrives at the part of the cemetery where your grave is and he slows his speed, guilt weighing him down. 

But you’re just happy to see him. 

“I’m sorry it’s been so long.” Jimin whispers as he approaches the grave marker that bears your name.

It’s okay, Jiminie. I know you’re busy. 

“I brought these, it’s almost Christmas.” He says, laying the flowers down. He squats to clear some snow and debris from your grave.

They’re lovely.

“I miss you so much. I know you want me to keep living my life...” He pauses, catching a hot tear as it streams down his cheek. 

I do Jimin, I want you to be happy.

“It feels wrong... I don’t know how to say it.” His voice is trembling. 

It’s okay baby, go ahead.

“I met someone new.” Jimin’s tears continue falling.

I’m so happy for you. Tell me about them.

Jimin takes a deep breath and sighs. He knows you would want to hear all about his new love interest, but it does feel kind of wrong. After a moment or two of silence, Jimin feels a slight breeze. Warmer than the brisk air that’s been whipping about. It fills him with a sense of peace. It’s almost like you’re here with him. 

“His name is Taehyung. He’s an artist and he’s beautiful.” Jimin pauses, looking up to the cloud covered sky. Snow is falling again. “I didn’t think I could ever love someone again, but I think I could love him.” 

I’m so happy for you, my love.

“He even offered to come here with me. But I wanted to come alone.”

You should bring him next time.

“Maybe I’ll bring him next time. It’s just... hard. I can’t stop thinking about how it should still be you.” Jimin wips a few more stray tears.

We had our time together, my love, and I’ll cherish it forever. I know your heart is big enough to love two people.

“I will always love you.”

And I will always love you.

Jimin can feel himself starting to shiver. The cold night is starting to affect him. He has to say goodbye for now. 

“I’ll be back soon.” Jimin says as he backs away.

And it’s okay if you aren’t. I’m with you always, not just at my grave.

Jimin begins the cold trek back to his apartment, still feeling that sense of peace radiating from his chest. Even though you’re gone, he can feel your love following him with every step.

~~~~~~~

A/N: Sorry if I hurt you. Thank you so much for reading. Check out my masterlist here and the series masterlist here. I’m always looking for betas and friends so send me a message! :)

[egittae]

[drabble] unfulfilled

tw: death, grieving loss of loved one, referenced child neglect

Lambert wasn’t allowed to be by her side as she reached the last stretch of twilight within her life. The fears of him contracting the already highly contagious disease and leaving Faerghus without a king was too much, and the possibility of it reaching the new prince and effectively killing off the entire royal family in one fell swoop only hardened the court’s resolve in separating the couple.

He couldn’t be by her side and hold her hand as she left, he couldn’t give her one last peck on the cheek before sending her off to the eternal end. She’d march this lonely road without hearing his voice declaring his love to her one last time.

Had this been a year prior, Lambert would’ve rebelled against the court and fought every single individual who stood between him and his wife’s deathbed. He promised her in their wedding vows that he’d be with her in life and death, and he was determined to see that promise through.

Yet the king found himself willingly in a separate wing of the palace of Fhirdiad, heavily guarded to the point it was nearly barricaded from the outside world with shields of magic layered on each other. The air was thicker there, almost choking under the weight of castings of light and passive magic from sigils and runes on every wall to the point that anyone more attuned to magic would’ve surely gotten severely disoriented. Lambert however, saw weakness turn into boon, as his naturally awful magic affinity left him unbothered by the excessive protective measures of his court’s mages.

Him, and the little bundle of life soundly asleep in his arms as the lone king stared out the window seeking for nothing in particular. Both were born with weak affinity to magic, both possessed the same pair of bright blue eyes and a mop of blond hair. And hopefully, the little one would come to possess the star that runs in his veins, as well. He was a perfect little baby, born healthy as a horse and screaming with powerful lungs, yet quickly showed himself to be quiet and docile. Lambert already had a name ready in his mind the moment that child was placed in his arms for the first time, and the middle name was decided by him and his wife, together.

Five months, perhaps even less. By five months, Lambert didn’t lose his wife and his son to the disease that now ravaged through the territory. Perhaps he should’ve considered that a blessing of the Goddess- that her watchful eye showed mercy for the child and hurried for him to be born before certain death, but at that point the king doubted even that. Born and raised to be a believer, and yet now he flirted with heresy and wondered if his prayers for his wife’s health were met with a deaf ear by the Goddess he believed was an all powerful, loving and gentle Mother who dutifully looked after her children on land.

His wife’s death wasn’t an act of mercy. Lambert knew, no matter how much Kriemhild tried to hide it, that the disease was shredding her body apart. That behind every smile and attempts at reassuring him that all was well and that she felt better by the day, that it was all a ruse- a white blanket placed atop a hemorrhaging wound and slowly getting stained by crimson iron. The moment the bells echoed through the capital and reverberated through the palace’s structure announcing the queen’s death on that sunny afternoon, that his wife had died suffering, in pain and alone, Lambert knew there was no divine mercy to be found.

If punishing deaths were meant for those who deserved it, then he was left to sit there and simply wonder what Kriemhild could’ve ever done to deserve being slowly consumed by disease, a punishment not only to herself but also to her family, forced to watch her fading helplessly.

Lambert wondered what he had ever done to deserve this.

Lambert wondered what his son, who was not even a year old, had done to deserve a life without his mother.

He had gotten used to those bells before, having heard them when his father had died, and when his mother met her end as well. For high ranked knights and nobles they too rang, yet now each low rumble felt like a violent attack on his mind and heart. But the king didn’t shed a single tear as he watched birds scatter into the sky, his hands didn’t twitch nor grasp. Lambert faced the sky as if bidding her soul goodbye from his own prison, getting up and slowly making his way towards the bed with quiet steps and a hollowing feeling in his chest, but shoulders held square and his gaze, although tired, still grasping onto meaning. The warmth in his arms was more than enough to remind him that he couldn’t fall to despair, though in this case it was for a much more selfish reason.

The Kingdom depended on him, of course. He’d see this plague through for its sake, but his will to fight for the cure lay within the infant in his arms.

The baby was placed on his back against the soft mattress as Lambert laid right next to him, one hand supporting his own head and the other holding onto a hand much smaller than his’, as azure pools watched over the young one sleep peacefully. Dimitri was too young to understand the world, too young to even understand who or what he was, but Lambert wondered if something in him knew that his mother was gone. He wondered if her spirit had given him a little kiss on the head just before walking into the Goddess’ arms. He hoped that she did.

“Mitya.” The king’s voice was but a whisper, not wishing to wake up the baby- and not wishing to find out if his voice would break if he were to speak any louder. “It’s just us now.”

Actually saying it made his throat close up as he stared reality in the eye, but he swallowed it down and kept his composure. “...I hope this pain doesn’t find you once you’re older. And yet, I hope you are able to remember her in some shape or form.” He knew he wouldn’t. Dimitri was too young for that, but he could only cope with grief by holding onto empty hopes. “At least remember that she loved you, and that she fought through blood and tears to bring you to this world. She never gave up on you.” Lambert refused to believe the medics when they stated that her body had given up- it hadn’t. She fought her battle, and even if she lost it wasn’t cheap nor easy. Lambert refused to have his son grow up thinking his mother had simply given up on fighting the disease.

Iron filled his mouth as Lambert bit his lip, him fighting a different type of battle now- one against his own self and his own tears. It was useless to self commiserate and he had been raised to refuse that kind of behavior, but it sat there as a reminder of everything he had faced so far.

Being born as a necessary resource rather than a product of love, being taught the art of blades before he had gotten to draw his first smiley sun on a paper sheet with crayons. A childhood spent behind fortified walls, groomed from boy to weapon as the Kingdom vibrated and sang prayers of gratitude to the skies the day his crest was revealed. Being resented by his only brother for something he could never even hope to change and getting showered with false love for the same reason. Being treated well by his father and mother yet never feeling like he could ever count on them for anything outside of his duties. Pushed into a throne before he had even memorized the vows for the coronation, when the crown still sagged a slight bit when placed in his head.

Forced to fit a mold that wasn’t real, seen as someone who wasn’t real, needing to act like something that wasn’t real- but that was expected, wished for, dreamed of.

Being king and yet being swiftly ignored and overlooked by everyone around him, as he soon found out that the weight of his word came at others’ convenience and that the world was much more willing to listen to the claims of a man brandishing a blade rather than extending a hand in compassion.

“Mitya, I…” The pressure of his clenched teeth was almost dizzying, but he didn’t stop. Not when it was the only thing keeping his tears from falling on that baby boy’s cheek. He swallowed down once more, took in a shaky deep breath, and stared down at the sleeping face of his son. “...I won’t leave it up to the Goddess to decide your fate. I refuse to leave it in her hands.” Her goodwill too, came at her own convenience. Lambert refused to gamble his only son’s fate on that. 

Another deep breath. “I breathe for Faerghus, but my heart beats for you alone. It ends at that.” Because he knew the day he died, Faerghus wouldn’t remember him. It would remember his crown and his armor, but not the man behind them. “...yet, forgive me. That you had to be placed on a lone road with a father who still cannot even cut his own hair without help. Forgive me, Mitya.” I’m too young for this. I don’t know what to do. No one ever taught me how to face fatherhood alone.

I don't want him to end up like me.

“I’ll raise you myself, in her honor-” Another shaky breath, though one that more closely resembles a suppressed sob. “-and so that you shall never live the life that I lived. I promise you.”

Gently pressing his forehead against the sleeping baby’s, Lambert finally allowed himself to cry silently. “Please, live as yourself. Be yourself and love yourself, my child.”

“You are more than just a jewel on a crown, and much more than any weapon. Know that I will love you unconditionally for eternity and beyond."

____

“Avenge us! Those who killed us…tear them apart! Destroy them all!”

The world went black and the star was extinguished. In a limbo, wedged between the folds of time, yet still holding onto the faintest thread of consciousness. It lasted merely seconds as the brain can only live for so long after losing its blood flow, but it was enough for a single, chilling thought to overstay its welcome- as if catching a glimpse of something seconds before a door is closed.

I wielded my son like a weapon.

[saturn-in-autumn]

BRO your art and writing are both so good ajsbsjjs can I request a danny reveal to valerie? I would assume this would be a small drabble prompt but I'll let you choose how to do it and if you even want to do it in the first place whoops

ASDFGJHJK Thank you so much! 

Omg, first off I am SO SO Sorry this took me so long to get back to you! It’s actually so bad... But I finally finished your request!! It took me a while to figure out how to phrase everything and get my head around it but I ended up getting a little carried away in the end, I’m sorry... 

So here it is I suppose! I’ve also posted it to Ao3 here if you’d like to have a look, but it’s also under the cut if you want to read it on here! 

Thank you so much for your patience, I only hope it was kind of worth it? Idk. I ended up writing a short story/one shot rather than a drabble haha, I just didn’t expect it to get so long!  And thanks for the request idea! 

- Fire and Water -

Valerie sometimes thought Danny was like water.

He was so perfectly clear somehow, an undisturbed lake shining in the moonlight. His iridescent blue eyes sometimes felt like they could see right through her, somehow sense exactly how she was feeling, understand her deepest secrets.

That eerie calmness rippled and cascaded through him, so clear and tranquil, yet so incredibly dangerous.

He had a depth that terrified her to no end, a feeling that if she dove down too deep he would overflow, drown her with his power. As if his little lake held all the fierce might of the sea.

(In which Danny has a secret to tell Valerie, but doesn't quite know how to go about it)

“Ugh, what am I supposed to do Tuck?” Danny groaned, resting his head on his elbows in the grimy corner booth.

Tucker shrugged, patting his back awkwardly in what he hoped was a comforting manner. “I don’t know man, I don’t have a murderous ghost-hunter for a girlfriend.”

Danny sighed, looking forlornly across the crowded restaurant of the Nasty Burger. Valerie was still standing by the till, laughing with some customer as she took their order. She was gorgeous even in the grease-stained yellow of the fast food uniform. Silently Danny watched as she tucked a stray strand of dark hair out of her eyes and looked away. He was such a loser.

“Hey… but then again, it’s not really our decision to make.” Sam’s voice cut through Danny’s musings and he looked up at her dolefully. “Whether or not you want to share it with her is up to you.” She took another slurp of her slushie and frowned. “I thought you had sworn not to. Why the sudden change?”

Danny looked away, straightening to peer out the window at the passers-by on the street. “I don’t know… I just feel… like it’s wrong to keep lying to her is all…” Danny could feel Sam and Tucker’s eyes on him as he sighed again, “Look, we’ve been going out for almost a year… That’s, like more than I’ve ever been in a relationship my whole life! Plus, even if she doesn’t know it, I know her secret, but she doesn’t know mine, I can’t help feeling like I’m cheating on her or something weird like that…”

“Danny…” Sam started but he continued.

“But at the same time, I’m terrified that if she finds out she’ll hate me y’know? Like… I don’t want to lose her in the process…”

“Look Danny, as the current female representative at the table.” Sam said, placing her drink firmly on the table to look at him in the eyes, “I can safely say that telling the truth is probably your best option. If she finds out and it’s not from you, it’ll probably hurt her a lot more than just coming clean.”  

Tucker nodded, “You know, Sam’s right, if you really care about her what’s the worst that could happen?”

“The worst is that she’ll shoot an ecto-blast through my chest faster than I can say ‘Sorry’.” Danny moaned. “Or she’ll tell my parents or something… Then I’d really be dead meat.”

“And the best-case scenario is that she doesn’t mind.” Sam said with an eyebrow raised. “I’m sorry Danny, but if you guys really care about each other then keeping secrets probably shouldn’t be on the table. Valerie has a right to know if you’re hiding things from her, chances are she’ll figure it out sooner or later. Her aim’s getting better by the day.”

Danny winced, rubbing his upper forearm where the burn mark still stung.

Sam’s eyes softened and she reached over, taking his hand gently, “Danny I honestly think that anyone who knows you, the real you, won’t hate you no matter what you are. The real test is whether or not you think you can trust her enough to tell her and get away with it. She’s still the Red Huntress after all. I wouldn’t take this decision lightly.”

Danny nodded but smiled. “Would you guys mind though?”

Tucker blinked, “Dude, we’re your friends. If you want to date the most dangerous ghost-hunter in Amity Park we have your back. As Sam said, it’s you’re secret to share with whoever you want.”

Danny closed his eyes and stared at the ceiling, “Thanks guys…” he mumbled, glancing over to where Valerie was once again. It looks like she was packing up. “I think I’ll try and tell her tonight…”

At that Tucker’s eyes widened, “Wait, really? Like you don’t want to think about this a little more before you run in guns blazing?”

Danny blinked at him, “Well, I know it’s a little brash sure, but the sooner I do it the sooner I can sleep easy right? Whether she hates me or not I’ll at least know.”

Sam sat back, “You heard the man Tuck, if he’s stubborn enough he’ll do it.”

“Hey!” Danny said, sounding offended, “Okay maybe I’m not 100% on it, but I’ll feel better if I’m not lying to her. Besides…” He smiled slightly, “We’d kinda already had a date planned for tonight. I might as well make use of it…”

As if on cue Valerie walked over, she’d thrown a dark green jacket over the orange of her uniform that perfectly complimented her eyes. “Hey!” she said, arm raised and smiling, “You ready to go?”

“You bet!” Danny laughed, sliding past Tucker and leaving his money on the tray, “I’ll… talk to you guys later then?” He offered and Sam winked.

“Go get em’ tiger.”

Danny grinned, giving Valerie a quick peck on the cheek and the thumbs up to Tucker before the two of them walked out of the restaurant.

***

When they were gone Sam’s lips quirked into a smile, “He’s gonna die.” She chuckled, taking another slurp of her drink as she sat back in the booth.

“Wait what?” Tucker asked swinging his saucepan-sized eyes to her in disbelief, “What was all that about ‘accepting who you are’ then?”

Sam eyed him across the table, “You kidding? Valerie’s gonna stomp his heart into pieces with five-inch high stilettos, but even then, I doubt she’ll hate him for it.”

Tucker sighed and took another bite of his burger, “I don’t know. It’s just odd he has this sudden conviction to tell her everything. It’s a pretty big deal is all.”

Sam shrugged, “Yeah, but then again I guess it’s just a sign of how much she means to him. After all, he told us pretty soon after it y’know… happened…”

“Yeah but that’s different, we’re his best friends and you’re one of the main reasons he got his ghost powers in the first place. Plus, Valerie hated his guts on principle back then because she was still with the A-Listers… now she just hates him for different reasons…”

She scowled at him, but nodded, “Well then fine. Maybe he just wants to take their relationship up a notch. I don’t know why you’re having such a hard time with this Tucker, if Danny wants to go blabbering about his powers to people, he has his reasons for it. Despite appearances he’s not that much of an idiot to get caught by his parents or the GIW.”

“I know it’s just…”

“Ohhh,” Sam grinned, cutting Tucker off with a shit-eating grin. “Oh, I see, you’re jealous.”

“What!” Tucker shrieked, “Am not!”

“You’re jealous that Danny is opting to bring someone else in on the team, this was the same thing with Jazz! You’re too proud to admit that you like being a sidekick.”

“What!? Never. I’m Danny’s guy-in-the-chair! His wingman! His Q to his 007! It’s not like Valerie could—”

“Oh yeah totally, the Red Huntress with an arsenal of weapons and ghost-hunting experience would never take Tucker Foley’s precious slot as the guy-in-the-chair.”

“Fuck’s sake Sam.” Tucker spat, “I’m not jealous, and fine then, I don’t care who the hell Danny goes and talks to. Are you happy?”

“Ecstatically.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck me yourself coward.”

“I hate you so much…”

“I know. So… you down for Doomed later?”

He shrugged, standing up and throwing a few notes on the table, “Sure. I’ll catch you around 9.”

***

Danny hadn’t planned for this at all.

He mentally slapped himself as he and Valerie walked to the movie theatre, absentmindedly chatting as best he could about her day. The street was almost deserted at this time in the afternoon, couples walking to and from places, laughing as they held hands. Danny smiled. They were all so… alive.

Valerie said something and Danny watched her out of the corner of his eye. Her breath clouding in front of her face before hugging her jacket closer to her body and cupping frozen hands around a fresh cup of coffee to keep warm.

Amity Park in autumn was both beautiful and freezing with the golden brown and red of leaves staining the paths and parks like wounded soldiers on the fields of battle.

He would have shivered if he could.

As it was Danny looked away, the cold didn’t really seem to affect him in the same way anymore. A pang of guilt struck his chest as Valerie laughed at something, she sounded so happy. If only she knew who she was walking with…

After the movie, he vowed, after the movie I’ll tell her. She deserves to know.

“Hey! Are you even paying attention?” She asked and he blinked, startled out of his musings.

“Uh yeah, sure… what did you say again?”

She sighed throwing her hands up in exasperation, “Honestly, you can be so… distant sometimes. What the heck goes through your head anyways? Stuck in the stars again NASA boy?”

Danny laughed, “I guess you could say that…” Was he really that obvious?

“Well, I asked, what do you want to see?”

“Oh right!” Gazing up at the selection he paused, “I…” he bit his lip, his mind going blank, it didn’t feel right to choose… “I don’t mind, how about you pick?”

She looked at him sideways, “Man you’re acting jumpy today.” A gleam caught in her eye and Danny gulped, “How about a horror?”

“Uh well… if that’s…” Danny stumbled over his words.

“Great! Glad that’s decided. I want to get really scared tonight, two tickets to your most horrifying film my good sir!” She chimed to the guy behind the counter.

The guy looked them up and down but shrugged, “Cinema 5, have fun.”

***

Danny wasn’t really paying attention through the film.

Guilt was eating away at him, gnawing at the edges of his subconscious as Valerie laughed and jumped at the loud noises and crappy special effects that Hollywood perceived ghosts to be. Danny smiled absently, they really had no clue how wrong they were compared to the real thing.

She held his hand in the gentle darkness of the cinema, and Danny couldn’t help but look at her in the faint light from the screen. Her green eyes glistened with excitement and curiosity, taking in all she saw with such conviction.

He smiled, she was light, warm and comforting. Even as she gripped his ice-cold skin Danny couldn’t help but admire her. She laughed when she felt like it, got angry when she felt like it, smiled and danced in her own brilliant warmth. Danny’s eyes softened as he leaned into her touch, savouring this moment. Feeling her heartbeat through her skin.

She was dazzling.

Danny pulled away slightly, his eyes narrowing, but she was like fire to his ice. She melted him in ways she could never understand, but he was sure, he was frighteningly sure he was going to burn her irreversibly in the end.

But if that’s the way it had to be, then so be it.

“Hey Val?” He mumbled, leaning further into her shoulder in the gloom of the theatre, feeling her warmth against his cheek. She stopped gazing at the screen and turned to him, her eyes still dancing in that dull luminosity. Danny sighed, letting his dark hair fall into his eyes so she couldn’t see that he was on the verge of tears. “I’ve been… keeping something from you. For a long time now… I just… don’t know how to say it…”

He felt her shift under his weight, and he pulled away, looking in the opposite direction. She was looking at him, he could feel her green eyes taking him in and he felt his heart panged with annoyance. Annoyance at himself, at how weak he was.

“Danny…” Valerie started, and he looked at her, she was smiling softly in the light, “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me anythi—”

“No, you deserve to know. But… maybe in a bit if that’s alright?” He grit his teeth and looked back up at the screen as the final scene began, he smiled sadly locking eyes with her. “I just… want this moment to last a little longer is all…”

***

Valerie sometimes thought Danny was like water.

He was so perfectly clear somehow, like an undisturbed lake shining in the moonlight. His iridescent blue eyes sometimes felt like they could see right through her, somehow sense exactly how she was feeling, understand her deepest secrets.

It was awe inspiring. Like Danny knew exactly where she went when she snuck out of class, knew her connection to ghosts and the other shadows of Amity Park. Knew who she really was.

But he never seemed to care. It was why, she supposed, she was so drawn to him in the first place. The eerie calmness that rippled and cascaded through him, so clear and tranquil, yet dangerously so. Pooling with something else.

A darkness. A depth that terrified her to no end, a feeling that if she dove too deep he would overflow, drown her with his power. As if his little lake held all the fierce might of the sea.

Why did that feeling surface now? That dread that crashed against the shoreline of her heart. Breaking the tension as Danny lead her out of the theatre and into the cool night air. What was this in her chest that felt like the pressure of being unable to breathe?

He laughed at something and Valerie felt a shift in the atmosphere as she looked at him in the light of the street, his blue eyes reflecting something she couldn’t see. Something beyond where they stood outside a bustling theatre.

“I want to show you something,” Danny said, there was a kind of relief to his words, like he’d been daring himself to say them. “But not here.”

He glanced at her and she felt that terrible drowning sense in her chest again as his clear-blue eyes softened in the moonlight. He looked… so sad, like this was somehow the last time she’d ever see him.

Danny stayed silent as they walked, weaving in and around the humdrum of pedestrians and life that flittered around them like moths to a flame.

She let him pull her along, feeling the familiar chill that buzzed between her fingertips of his skin brushing hers. He was so cold, so frozen in time. It gripped at her.

It was only now that she started to watch him in comparison to the people on the street. In his dark, navy jacket and worn jeans he stood out and blended in at the same time. Like he wasn’t meant to be there and was there all at once. It seemed unnatural somehow…

She shook her head, following him across the street to the park, letting the dull glow of the stars guide them along the cracked paths.

What was it he wanted to show her? And why did it feel like an ending and a beginning all at once? Her curiosity ate at her but if Danny was willing to show her, she would be patient.

The park seemed twisted at night time. The trees warped somehow in the dark, green grass glowing blue in the silver light of the moon.

Danny looked around and hurried on, pulling her up the hill to where a small crop of trees nestled between the undergrowth. There was no one around for miles but Danny seemed extra cautious, double and triple checking their surroundings to make sure they weren’t being followed.

“Danny, you’re scaring me you know that.” Valerie finally said, breaking the silence that had hung over them for so long.

He chuckled softly and came to sit next to her, looking out at the twinkling lights of the city spread out below them like a map. A perfect mirror for the stars above.

The throb of life buzzed about them, the shrieking of tyres, the chink of glasses and the laughter of people. The metropolis was a beating heart but here in this secluded tower, they watched it all in silence.

“I’m so sorry Val…” Danny finally said, and she looked at him as he laid back, staring upwards towards the sky. “I feel like I’ve been lying to you, from the very beginning.”

She wanted to interrupt, wanted to tell him what a mysterious jerk he was being and just to cut to the chase, but she said nothing, too entranced by the wandering lights that reflected in his irises.

“The truth is, that I…” Danny’s expression changed slightly, and his teeth gritted together. Whatever it was that he was trying to say to her, Valerie knew that it was probably something major.

“Danny… you don’t—”

“No, I do.” He said, pulling an arm across his eyes so that she couldn’t see him. “I have to tell you; cause otherwise you’re just going to find out from someone else and then I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

He sat up and turned to her, his dark hair framing his face as he gripped her shoulders. Her heart fluttered slightly in her chest; he was crying.

She watched as that perfectly clear water fell from his eyes, carving rivers in his pale skin. She felt something press against her lungs, that fear of drowning, and she opened her mouth to speak.

“I—”

“I love you…” Danny said, cutting her off, his head bowing as she blinked at his words, numbly they settled on her like falling snow as she felt her heart lighten. “I love you so much… That’s why it’s not fair to keep hiding myself, the real me, from you any longer.”

“Danny I—”

“No, Val, please, let me finish.” Danny looked at her and she felt a pang of guilt cross her chest. He smiled, such a sad smile, as he continued. “Val, I love you. I didn’t think I would fall for someone so hard as I do for you… you’re incredible you know that? You’re so strong and dazzling to look at it hurts my eyes.”

She felt her eyes widen but he continued, “Ever since I met you, you’ve shown me time and time again how great you really are. And quite frankly, I don’t think I deserve you. But I wanted to tell you that I love you. Let you know how much you truly mean to me so that you don’t lose sight of who I am.”

Danny looked at her, “I’m an idiot you know that? I’m such a complete and utter loser that I take so much of what I have for granted. Sam and Tucker have always told me so and that’s why I want to stop hiding from you Valerie. Because I care too much for you to continue acting, continue pretending that I’m alright.”

Danny began to shake as he spoke and she shifted closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him in close to her as a smile lifted her face. “Hey. Look at me,” he lifted his eyes to hers and Valerie smiled, “You know, if you’re scared to tell me you don’t have to Danny. Cause…” She felt light, “Because I love you too.”

He blinked at her and smiled, “I was afraid of that…”

She laughed, “Oh yeah and why’s that wisecrack?”

He smiled but didn’t laugh. “Because of who… no that’s not right… because of what I am Val.”

She stopped laughing, he was dead serious, she gripped her chest, that tightness was suffocating now. The fun-loving idiot she had fallen for seemed to melt off him as his eyes narrowed, turning to her fully to look at her dead in the eyes. “Val, I don’t want you to think any less of me, I really and truly want us to continue being close, I want to hold your hand and laugh, go see movies and continue living like this with you for the rest of my life…”

Wait. What was he saying? What did he mean by…

“But, Valerie Grey. I can’t keep hiding forever. I brought you here tonight to tell you something about myself that I can’t share lightly with anyone. But you have to promise to trust me, promise me Val. Please promise me that you won’t think any less of me for it and that you won’t tell anyone else... please this is important.”

She felt the pressure in her lungs choking her now, but she nodded, why was she so scared? So utterly terrified that she might lose him? “I promise. I promise, whatever you want to tell me it’s okay Danny. It’s okay, you can tell me…”

Danny smiled and nodded, his shoulder’s sagging as he did so as if all the tension released from him in one motion. Like he had been waiting his whole life to hear those words. “Val… I…maybe it’s easier if I show you instead?”

She blinked but nodded, allowing him to let go of her as she sat back.

Danny looked at her, she was so perfect, sitting there patiently waiting for him to show her what he meant. He closed his eyes and looked to the stars, here goes nothing…

“Val, I’m so sorry…” he whispered, and triggered his transformation.

Valerie watched in mild horror as the light sparked around his mid-section, twin-rings expanding at his waist.

Wait what?

They broke and spilt, traveling over his body slowly as he stood there, changing him.

What’s happening?

Danny sighed at the feeling of relief, the cool sensation of weightlessness taking hold as the rings reached the base of his neck with a rush of adrenaline.

Valerie felt her hands fly to mouth to cover the shriek of shock as Phantom touched down lightly in front of her. His skin glowing in the eclipse of the moon, the black jumpsuit replacing the familiar jeans and jacket Valerie knew so well…

She stumbled, her mind racing a marathon as her heart banged so hard against her chest, she swore it was audible. No. No this couldn’t be right… Danny was… Danny was?

He looked at her with that same sad smile and she allowed herself to gasp. The clear blue of his eyes now glimmering green like emeralds against the sky.

He sunk to his knees and looked away; he’d ruined it hadn’t he? The curling white of his hair intermingling with the evening breeze. Looking down almost resentfully at the snow-white gloves that adorned his hands. “I’m so sorry…” His voice echoed across the space between them and Valerie inadvertently shivered. “I’m so sorry Val…”

Valerie just sat there, staring blankly at the scene in front of her as Phantom… no Danny, hung his head in his hands. She reached out, but paused, no this couldn’t be right… This was all a big misunderstanding, right? A joke?

She pulled her hand back, cupping it against her chest. But it felt so real, so obvious that she mentally cursed herself for being so stupid.

Danny Fenton, Danny Phantom, he’d barely even changed his name. She blinked, observing the shape of his face, the style of his hair, it was all the same, all exactly the same… But even then… Danny couldn’t be a ghost! Surely not… surely… and of all ghosts Phantom? The town hero? Her ultimate enemy? It couldn’t possibly be real; this couldn’t possibly be happening right now…

“You’re probably wondering what happened right?” Valerie snapped her attention towards him as he laughed dryly, the sound was grating, so completely alien to her, “That’s usually the first question I get asked…”

She nodded, she felt so numb.

“It was the Fenton Portal.” He smiled, the white of his hair playing on the breeze like snow, “Mum and Dad couldn’t get it working so I thought it was safe enough to look inside… I… it turned on while I was in there…”

Valerie shuddered, phantom screams of Danny being electrocuted rattling her skull as if she’d been there herself. That was how he’d died? Screaming and alone?

“I’m so sorry Val…” He said again, looking at her, she jolted at the green of his eyes, but he continued, “I’m so sorry you had to find out, but I couldn’t lie to you forever. I just couldn’t keep pretending it was all fine considering our… history…”

A sharp pain rippled through her heart as she realised that he did know. Of course he did. Phantom had known she was the Red Huntress from the beginning, and yet even after every fight they’d had, every insult and curse she’d flung his way… Danny still continued loving her, being around her even then. Even then…

She felt cheated slightly, like he’d known her deepest secret for so long that it wasn’t fair she didn’t know his in return. But she stopped, hadn’t that been the point though? What would she have done if she’d known earlier? What good would it have done to know?

She reached for him cautiously and he flinched as she touched his shoulder. He was so cold, so incredibly cold but she gripped him, feeling the static of ectoplasm under her fingertips as she turned him to her.

His eyes were wide, but she smiled slightly, pulling him down into her, drawing him into a hug.

He was like ice against her, buzzing with electricity and energy that was the only way he could survive. “You’re so stupid you know that?” She felt him twitch slightly against her but she smiled, “I can’t imagine what it was like… what you must go through every day Danny… knowing that there is this side to you that you can’t share with anyone…”

“You’re not scared? Or angry? You don’t hate me, do you?” He sounded so timid, like a frightened child.

She thought about it, sure, she was certainly angry. But not as much as she’d expected, she laughed slightly, she hadn’t planned on this when she finally had Phantom in her grasp.

“Danny… I… don’t think I do… You never told me the truth because I never gave you a reason for it. I was so completely bent on destroying you that I don’t know… I lost sight on what I was fighting… but I’m glad you waited until now to tell me…”

He pulled back from her slightly so she could see his face, “You mean that?”

She nodded, “If I had found out earlier, I might have blasted you to bits. But as it stands… I’m…” she grinned, “I’m really glad I got to know you, Danny Fenton.”

He blinked at her reaction, pulling back further so that they were at eye level. “I…” he started but she pushed a finger to his lips.

“Let me finish loverboy. I believed ghosts were… well monsters. Bent on destroying this world and everyone in it, senseless and unstoppable monsters and nothing more… I never let my guard down, never let anyone see me weak. Until you Danny. I let you in and now, you’ve let me in. And that means so much more than I think you realise. Don’t get me wrong, I’m pretty shocked, and it’s gonna take me a week to digest all of this… but I love you Danny. You, no matter what you are.”

His eyes widened and he laughed, the familiar sound tinkling against her making her smile.

Valerie didn’t exactly know how she found himself in the position she was in next, but all she felt was the soft press of lips against hers and she wrapped her arms tightly around Danny, feeling light as air. She slipped her hands from his waist to over his shoulders, pushing in for the kiss. Danny felt like his world had exploded into stars, she tasted like strawberries and sunlight mixed together in utter happiness. And Valerie smiled against him, he tasted like static but she didn’t care. Danny could’ve stayed like that forever, and he probably would’ve if Valerie didn’t slip her hands off of him and gently push away.

She smiled, the heavy fear had lifted from her chest and she sighed as it dispersed. The clear water moving in it’s wake.

“So what do we do now?” She asked and Danny blinked, smiling softly as he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

He looked to the stars, feeling lighter than ever, “I don’t know.”

“Well, Phantom, how about a truce to begin with.” She winked and Danny laughed, getting to his feet he took her hand and pulled her up with him.

“My my, the Red Huntress herself is offering a ceasefire? I never thought I’d see the day!”

“Oh hush, I can still shoot you.”

He gulped but nodded, a bright smile lighting up his face as he began to float slightly off the ground.

“Not for nothing,” she murmured, eying the space between his feet and the ground warily, “But how about you… uh… what’s the word you use? Switch back? Cause if you walk me home in that state, I think my dad’s gonna have to bring out a little heavier an artillery than a shotgun.”

Danny nodded, touching down without a word, feeling the rings of light split around his waist again as the world held weight once more.

Valerie gasped as Phantom fell away but regained her composure, “Somehow I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that…” she muttered, and he laughed, his blue eyes sparkling.

“Val… I’m… I’m really happy with how tonight went…” Danny grinned as they walked back towards the path, “But you’re sure that you’re okay with this whole… me being Phantom thing?”

She hummed in thought but nodded, “Yeah, but you’re going to have to answer a bunch of questions I have about yourself and the other ghosts. Plus,” she winked at him, “I still expect to be able to fight. Treat me as an equal ghost boy, I refuse to be your sidekick.”

Danny laughed but waved a hand, “Oh don’t worry, I think Tucker wouldn’t talk to me again if I let you have that role.”

“Then that’s settled then… shall we—”

Danny’s breath misted in front of his face and Valerie stiffened as a wave of static swept the park. “Oh no,” she mumbled, a sensor beeping quietly on her watch as she reached for her backpack, flicking the switch on the underside.

He speeder hit the ground and Valerie’s eyes narrowed as she pulled down her hood, snapping the butt of her ecto-gun against her palm as she whirled to Danny.

He was already in fighting mode, the human boy she’d fallen for melting away as the half-ghost hero Phantom stood by her side. Just as a massive, bloated figure rounded the corner ahead of them.

She looked at him a smile playing on her lips, “You ready ghost boy?”

He grinned, “You bet, partner.”

[writinglionqueen]

Softer and Softer

@lilred91 said: So one of your drabble requests gave me a idea.  But what about one where reader is new to WWE and Drew overhears some of the people picking on her and or talking bad about her. Either reader and Drew are already together and no one knows, like if they are together he confronts her why she kept it from him. And if they aren't together he maybe gets up and goes over to defend her and walks out with her??

~Thank you for being patient, lovely. I’ve had a hectic couple of days. I don’t do a bunch of requests other than the blurbs for My King but....this idea can play off of Soft~

You’ve heard all the whispers, heard all the jokes and jabs, heard everything about you being homegrown talent rather than making a name for yourself in this industry. 

It was true. Hunter saw something in you, something he liked. Everybody else may call it star power. He called it “potential.”

And that potential pushed you to do everything you could to learn the craft of wrestling. Of doing your best at everything even if it meant putting in more effort that you originally thought it would. But you did it. You pushed through NXT with flying colors. You were cutting promo like no one’s business. You were doing moves you’ve only dreamed about doing. 

Maybe wrestling hadn’t been your life long dream like a lot of your peers, but it has became your recent passion, one you were ready to see to fruition. Especially now that you were a few months into being called up onto the main roster. Hunter was full of pride on your final, tearful night of NXT. He hugged you and told you how much potential you had for the RAW roster and how he couldn’t wait to see what was going to become of you. How he was going to see you be the wrestler he saw in you from day one. 

Your first match was incredible and the pop you received from the crowd was something you could only dream about. You had the upgrade of your life...but...even good things came with the bad. 

Some of the other talent, especially those who moved up with you talked about you behind your back. You felt like the butt of a joke...one everyone else laughs at but you couldn’t understand it. The talent that moved up with you didn’t like you were homegrown. The other talent came from the indies before going to NXT. They made names for themselves....but you. You could hear them make fun of your style...of how insignificant your name meant in the industry.

It hurt. It really did. It was worse when they said it to your face though. Especially when you’ve been trying to make friends and hang out with the new and old RAW talent. 

“Wish I was Hunter’s favorite and got his special treatment,” one said, with snark in her voice. You looked to her and her friend. You remembered them from NXT...they were like this then too. They didn’t like that Hunter had chosen you as his special project to become a new upstart from nothing. They didn’t like your success...but....were they right? Was it really success when you were just one of the boss’s favorites?

“You don’t belong here with the real talent,” her friend said, “with the biggest names of the industry.” You tensed at that, practically feeling the venom in her words. 

“I worked hard to get here,” you argued quietly. “I have been since the day I signed up for this.” The two scoffed and you tried not to flinch. 

“You worked hard?” the first one asked. “You were handed a spot on this roster just like you were handed a spot in NXT. You never worked for this a day in your life.” You knew it was untrue. The bumps and bruises you suffered for to get this spot has said other wise. But...were you just handed these opportunities? No. No way. Not after what you’ve gone through, the amount of change you did to be a wrestler. 

“That’s not true,” you argued. 

“Is it?” the other asked. “What makes you think you’re even good enough to be here?”

“What makes you think you’re so special?” the first countered. You wanted to say something -anything- to get them to stop. But you feel your walls crumbling, your heart sinking and everything felt like it was going wrong.  

That was until a person caught your attention, but not just anyone. It was your Mixed Match partner and he didn’t look too happy. 

“I know you two aren’t haggling another person about deserving their place here,” Drew said from behind them. 

The two girls jumped and looked panicked as they turned to the scowling Scotsman. Both of them belted out quick and scared no’s as they rose their hands in defense. Drew’s intense, grey eyes looked to you before looking to the two girls in front of him. 

“Because the way I see it, real wrestlers don’t make the cut if they’re going to be jealous about one of their peer’s success versus their own.” The two remained silent as Drew’s tone deepened. “The paths that got us here are different. But everyone got here with hard work. Now, if you two want to keep the jobs you have, you’d better leave her alone and be thankful you’re here as well. Unlike you two jobbers, she’s on the Mixed Match challenge with me.” You could see the tremors of the two girls who stood between you and Drew. They were afraid. Even more so that Drew’s tone was way more dangerous. Even you felt scared.  “Now run along and don’t you ever mess with her again.”

The two girls scurried off and you watched them leave, fully aware that Drew’s full attention was on you now. 

“How long has that been going on, princess?” Drew asked you. His voice was a lot softer than when he spoke to the girls. It made you want to melt. 

“Since we were in NXT together,” you admitted, quietly. “Since...it was found out Hunter offered my spot there because he said he saw potential in me.” You turned to look at the soft expression of Drew. “I never went to the Indies....never made a name for myself other than the WWE. Hell...this wasn’t a dream of mine until I got to NXT.” You looked to your boots with a frown as their words played in your head. “Maybe I was handed everything and didn’t work for it.” Drew reached for you, his large hand pressed against your back as he pulled you into his chest, holding you.

“No, I’ve seen your progress, little one,” he said to you. You said nothing as your curled in on yourself, allowing your Mixed Match partner to hold you softly, to speak to you softly, to touch you softly. “I’ve seen the way you’ve changed. I saw who you were when you first started in NXT...the shy new girl who had no idea what she was getting herself into...and I’ve watched whom you’ve become now. You’ve worked so hard and look at where you are now.” 

He pulled away to look down into your eyes and you looked up at him. 

“You’re about to main event RAW, the two of us have been undefeated in Mixed Match, hell....little one...you’ve earned my respect after how much we used to hate each other.” 

You giggled at that, trying to fight back tears because your partner, Drew McIntyre, was singing your praises. 

“Don’t let the likes of those two....or any other wrestler here, for that matter, bring you down and say how much you’re not a real wrestler because the path you took was different. Some people are in the same boat as you; Roman, Charlotte, Alexa, Naomi....all of them are homegrown as well.”

“I’m not like them though,” you murmured, wiping away a stray tear that broke the well. Drew gave you a soft smile. Softer than the ones he’s ever given you before....even after the Nikki fiasco. 

“But you will be...someday,” he said to you, voice dropping to a softer tone. You gave him a smile before you crashed into his torso again, hugging him for a change. He chuckled as he allowed it. 

“You’re getting softer and softer every day,” you said into his chest. Drew let out a quick laugh. 

“Yeah....but I got a reason to be, because my partner needs me to be,” he said, quietly. You smiled. All you wanted to do was be wallowed up in his warm embrace and stay that way for a long, long time. 

You liked this side of Drew;

This softer side he reserved...only for you. 

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[backandimbamon]

yes i spontaneously wrote a bamon drabble because i can never get their dialogue out of my head (:

Damon knew Bonnie.

In fact, he knew her so well that he could paint her with ease on an intimidatingly large canvas, blindfolded, holding the paintbrush behind his back.

They spent an aggressive amount of time together, plus he was a vampire so his Bonnie experience was intense- not one detail went amiss.

Like for instance, she liked her natural nails to have length, and never chose nail polish outside of flesh tones; her go-to was a sandy nude but it had to be just translucent enough to reveal a bit of her cuticle.

And the fact that she wasn’t a perfume girl, but more of an earthy oil type. If he could bottle her up in a fragrance it’d be a concoction of patchouli and vanilla, a hint of citrus zest and a bit of a floral scent because whenever she couldn’t sleep at night, she’d sprinkle lavender oil on her pillow which eventually would embed itself in her hair.

Oh, and when he fixed her breakfast she never failed to complain about his pancakes but she would always do an exciting finger wiggle before grabbing a fork and digging in.

The prison world did something to her. To them. He had ample amount of time to observe and truly see the little witch for who she was, an opportunity never granted to him before. In the strange case of forced matrimony, Damon was able to fully see Bonnie Bennet sans overbearing, attention-seeking friends, even if one was his beloved girlfriend.

There was always Elena and after that, Elena’s shadow, and after that, Vampire Barbie but in the prison world there were none and he saw elements of himself attach to Bon Bon like friction particles during traction. And even stranger, Bonnie was completely unaware, behaving in a very Damon-like manner as if she had always done so, like she had coined the phrases, prolonged the banter, carried the stichomythia all along. Like he himself was the imposter.

Seriously, all Bonnie needed was a black leather jacket and a Camaro and she’d be his own personal mini me.

And even when his hope of returning floated away like a stray balloon, forever with her didn’t seem that bad.

To say the silent truth didn’t make Damon’s heart warm would be a lie. Developing a strong eventual friendship with someone who wanted you dead years prior could heat even the iciest of hearts.

So he had positively known her. He had seen her face, day in and day out for months on end; clay brown skin, leaf green eyes, a smirking mouth (another habit she picked up from him, he noticed proudly,) with a bone structure a model would envy, Damon hadn’t thought of any other equation that personified Bonnie Shelia Bennett.

She was very pretty in a way that snuck up on him over the years, he became accustomed to her beauty because he could accept it, it was manageable and tame. Not a loud or demanding beautiful but a sacred and layered one.

Bonnie was basically sugar, spice, everything nice, with chemical x as her magical witchy woo woo.

But who knew something as simple as a new hairstyle could change someone so drastically.

“So what do you think?” She asked, brimming with a poorly contained excitement.

It was a quiet day in Mystic Falls, no monsters to fight, or talisman to acquire. She had just entered the boarding house as Damon grabbed a Bourbon from the kitchen, tumbler held by a lazy grip. His eyelids lowered.

Gone was the modest brown bob, the one that allowed her to be pretty but not intimidatingly so. The hairstyle that he had expected from her; the witch’s default to not draw too many eyes for fear of being unnecessarily seen.

Gone was the beauty that was also his because she shared it with him like a secret gift. Only Damon Salvatore could witness the depth since he was always too close, always too invasive and she had trusted him just enough to let her guard down. It was theirs but now it was hers.

In the place of the brown bob was silken chocolate roots blended into caramel-colored barrel curls that tumbled down her frame. Her face was more intense, skin browner, eyes moodier, lips no longer smirking but pouting instead. She looked more mature and not like the sweetheart that he had come to adore but more like a bombshell, a sex symbol- hot...

It was odd.

He was captivated by her face, how different she looked, an effortlessly sexy appeal that was so un-Bonnie-like that he probably would’ve hit on her if she wasn’t his best friend.

Damon was drinking in her appearance with veiled appreciation but she couldn’t know that. He contorted his brows in thought and brought a cocked hand up to his chin quizzically.

“Hmm...” he said walking closer and examining, if only to buy him more time to stare at her, study her, secretly admire her.

She narrowed her eyes, crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head in annoyance.

“Damon it doesn’t take this long, you either like it or you don’t.” That excitement had digressed to something else as she ran her fingers through her long hair self-consciously.

He stepped up to her, invading her space as he normally did, and pinched a few strands of hair between his thumb and forefinger.

“You’re right Bonnie, I don’t like it.” He said cavalierly, just to get a reaction out of her, just to make her feel a little less gorgeous because it was making him uncomfortable.

She stuck out her chin, arms still folded, “It’s not like I did it for you.”

The statement hung in the air like she had options, almost as if meek Bonnie Bennett had men standing in lines to take her out. Like her excitement to show him her new look only moments before didn’t exist because his opinion was no more important than the dust particles in the air.

“It’s okay if you don’t like it.” She stated, mouth certainly pouting now. He could see her defenses activating. “You’re entitled to your own opinion. This new look has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me and what I want. I think it’s-“

He rolled his eyes. “Save the women-empowerment speech for someone who actually cares, Bon Bon. I love it.”

“What?”

“Your new hairstyle. I don’t like it, I love it.” He over-enunciated.

That bubbling excitement returned, “You do?”

“Yeah. You’re blonde now,” he smirked and stepped even closer if that was possible. He circled her, eyes sliding up and down his Bon Bon to reassert that only he could be the sexy one in their duo, not her. No one else could master sexy the way Damon had. It leaked from him, she couldn’t compete with him for such a title. But Bonnie was barely bothered. Impulsively, her eyes rolled as he continued to walk around her as if he were critiquing an art display. He stopped in front of her.

“Little Miss Blondie Bennett.”

“How original.”

“I know, I put a lot into that nickname.” His hand was in her tresses before he could even register what he was doing, fingertips at her scalp, gliding to the tips of her hair with a light pressure. He released, then swept up the wisps of hair on the nape of her neck and tugged gently. Loose curls fell around his grasp.

“Didn’t your mother teach you not to touch a lady’s hair?” Her eyes were foggy when she gave him a weak glare and gooseflesh rose on her skin.

“Do I look like I listened to my mother?”

He still had her hair in his grip and he tightened it a bit for emphasis before dropping his hand abruptly.

There was something that stretched between them, like maybe it was cruel to have a stunning little witch and an eerily handsome vampire only be friends. Like maybe Damon should keep his hands to himself because other thoughts could arise like why hadn’t he noticed Bonnie like this before? Out of all the women he’s crossed paths with, why was it impossible to imagine the witch as a sexual being? Why did she seem above carnality? And Bonnie could think why she hadn’t allowed herself to be noticed, what made her decide to hide herself, to keep walls so high that it would take years to cave in? She could ask herself what it was that made her a supporting character of her own life; who would she be if she allowed one misstep, had made one wrong move? Would Bonnie Bennett still be Bonnie Bennett if she put herself first?

Blonde hair was a baby step.

The presence of Elena was there and not, omnipotent as the sun between the world of Bonnie and Damon because there was no way they could see each other in any other light outside of friendship. And Damon was seriously questioning why he couldn’t possibly fathom, could hardly bring himself to whisper the phrase, sex with Bonnie.

Bonnie was his first best friend ever. In his multitude of years, he hadn’t blurred that line like he did with the long list of women he met before. He could think of not one platonic friendship in his history of friendships that was with a woman. She really was his first. It was like there was a block in his mind that prevented him from seeing her that way.

It was... strange.

The silence was stretching, as thoughts blossomed between them about themselves and one another. But of course the duration wasn’t too long.

“You went to a salon?” Damon asked, attempting to rid the moment of that gentle intimacy as he held her eyes.

“Yeah, it was this guy from Atlanta. He said a caramel, slightly ash blonde color makes the green in my eyes more intense.” She paused. “Caroline’s gonna flip,”

“Yeah she’s not the only blonde in town now.” His eyes widened. “You’ll probably have to mud wrestle to fight for the official title.”

“How classy of you, Demon. I mean Damon. I think.”

“Ha, ha.”

He could feel himself staring at her in a weird, pensive way, despite his lighthearted banter. She looked like the exact opposite of him bottled up in a human being. She was stunning.

“I’m guessing you didn’t listen to your mother when she said it’s impolite to stare either.” Bonnie chimed smugly.

Damon didn't laugh, his eyes grew sincere as he held eye contact with her in a way that used to make her feel uncomfortable before she became accustomed to it.

“All jokes aside, you are beautiful, Bonnie Bennett."

Those words had never fallen from his lips before. Especially never with such a seriousness. It was a fragile phrase, profound and evocative because she couldn’t recall the last time someone told her that.

Her face grew rosy with flattery and maybe embarrassment. “Thank you, Damon.”

She could see how Elena could have fallen for Damon, regardless of Stefan Salvatore and his handsome, chivalrous nature. Everyone warned you against men like Damon because they could get anything they wanted out of you and the world. A wolf in wolf’s clothing. Somehow frightening and irresistible at the same time. He was the shiny apple, red as sin in the garden of eden, plump and juicy and ready to be eaten. It was only natural for Elena to succumb. Most women would if the apple was dangling so dangerously low to their lips.

But sometimes, like then, he wasn’t so predictable. He took you by surprise when you least expected it. Because he wasn’t just enigmatic, he was flesh, bone, almost human. He had feelings and reactions and even he could be taken aback by his best friend with blonde hair. And even he could appreciate a beauty that wasn’t just Elena’s without feeling guilty.

“Little Blondie Bennett. I could just eat you right up.”

He really could.

[kunoichi-ume]

May Drabbles, Day 2

Prompt:  “I’m a mess” (Leather) Characters: Sith Warrior Seleshi Korth/Vette Word Count: 1326

Seleshi didn’t bother to hide his smile at the sounds of annoyance behind him. Vette couldn’t see his face so what did it matter if his mirth was apparent? They had spent most of the day hiking through the thick jungle in search of several large, canine like creatures with six large spikes on their back. He hadn’t paid much attention to their name, all he needed was a description and direction to hunt them down. The doctor who sent them believed he could cure some fatal disease plaguing the locals with the substance secreted by the beasts.

He failed to mention they were filled with the rancid sludge or that they literally spat it everywhere when provoked.

Or that Vette would prove much less able to dodge the sludge sprays than he was.

Now as they made their way back to the ship she was complaining, loudly, to make sure he knew how unhappy she was.

“I swear,” she grumbled behind him, “if you make one more of those damn things explode on me I am going to scream. Do you hear me jerkface?”

Seleshi hummed thoughtfully to let her know he heard, but didn’t take much offense to the insult. She had been calling him that for months now as a sort of mix between playful endearment and insult. If there was one thing he had learned about Vette since she had been ‘gifted’ to him was that she didn’t show affection the same way other people did.

The stray thought about how they met soured his mood and his amused smile fell. Even at the time he found the idea of his master giving him a person distasteful, freeing her as soon as Baras was out of sight was as much the right thing to do and something he truly hoped would piss the older Sith off. He had honestly expected Vette to leave as soon as she was able, but for some reason or another the lively twi’lek stayed by his side.

It was a far more pleasant surprise than he imagined it could be.

Vette huffed loudly behind him and stopped walking.

Finally, Seleshi turned and schooled her face to keep from aggravating her more with his smile. “Is something bothering you Vette?”

If looks could kill, Seleshi would be in desperate need of a medic with the glare she shot at him.

“Look at me!” Vette held her hands out to the side and turned, “I am completely covered in that gunk and I think I might be allergic to it cause it’s starting to itch.”

Seleshi frowned, Vette was known to exaggerate but if she really was having some kind of reaction to it he’d feel awful for dragging her along. “We are almost back to the ship, you can shower when we get there.”

Vette shook her head, “no it’s too far and this is driving me crazy. Look there is water just over there, can’t I wash up before we head back?”

“It’s going to be dark soon.”

“But Seleshi,” she whined, a tone she knew was very persuasive with him and had exploited since that discovery, “I’m a mess.”

Sighing heavily, Seleshi turned toward the body of water she had pointed at. “Is that water even clean?”

“It’s cleaner than I am,” Vette snipped back before starting to stalk toward the water’s edge. Seleshi followed her already preparing himself to either argue with or subdue her if the water looked too dirty to allow her to bathe in.

Thankfully none of his plans, most of which ended with her slung over his shoulder and getting that vile goop all over his leather jacket, were needed. The water was surprisingly crystal clear, giving them both an easy view of the soft, sandy dirt at the bottom.

Vette whooped happily before yanking her shirt over her head without any kind of warning. Seleshi got an eye full of her torso, with only a lace edged white bra covering her, before he quickly turned his back. Folding his arms across his chest tightly he bit the inside of his cheek to distract himself. Vette’s skin was the most beautiful shade of blue he had ever seen and lately she had been showing more of it than usual, glimpses he would be grateful for if their relationship had any beginning other than the one it had.

It didn’t matter that he had freed her as soon as possible, the guilt of having owned her for even a moment haunted him. As did the thought that she might go along with any move he had toward something more physical between them because of that former relationship. If he was ever lucky enough to entice Vette into his bed, he needed to be sure she wanted to be there.

Belatedly, as if she didn’t realize she had started to strip in front of him Vette called out to him. “Hey, you better not peek at me or I’ll gut you.”

“Yes, I know,” he replied, grinning to himself. “Though I would love to see you try.”

Splashes and laughter came from behind him and Seleshi tightened his grip on his forearms to keep his mind of wondering just how much of her clothing she had removed.

“I think we both know you wouldn’t hurt me,” she called, her voice farther away than before. “You’d probably let me.”

She’s going to be the death of me, Seleshi thought as he realized that she jwas probably right. If she tried while naked and dripping wet he would certainly be distracted enough not to stop her. Needing a better distraction, he pulled out his datapad and scrolled through the mission parameters. He had it near memorized by the time she cursed loudly behind him.

“Whats wrong?” He growled, whipping around and reaching for one of his light sabers in case she was in danger.

“Hey! Eyes averted buster!” Vette shouted.

Turning his head upward to stare at the sky Seleshi bared his teeth in frustration. “If you aren’t in danger, what are you griping about now?”

“I am in danger! In danger of walking back to the ship naked,” she groaned. “This shit isn’t coming off my clothes.”

Seleshi stared up at the sky for several long moments, listening to her gripe as she tried to clean her clothing, before he was sure he could speak without pointing out that he told her she should wait till they were back at the ship. “Leave them,” he said, shrugging out of his jacket and holding it out to her blindly. “This should keep you covered.”

The jacket was almost immediately snatched out of his hands and he could hear Vette sighing with relief. Still he didn’t look down, in case she was going to be serious about her threats to gut him, until he felt her hand on his chest.

Lowering his gaze, he found that she was standing very close to him, barely a breath’s width between them, with one of her hands resting on his sternum. Her lips were curled into a smile and when she rose on her toes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, he was so stunned he didn’t react until after she had stepped away.

“Thank you Seleshi,” she said before turning and starting back toward the ship.

It took a moment for him to follow, first he glanced down to see that all of her clothing was left there on the jungle floor confirming his imagined visions of her nude in the water. Nude under his jacket. Lifting a hand to his face he could almost feel her kiss still and was more grateful than ever that blushing didn’t show on him, though he could feel the extra heat on his cheek.

“You’ll be the death of me Vette,” he remarked out of her earshot before following her path. “And what a good death it will be.”

[doyouevenshipbr0]

gruvia drabble

author’s note: imma keep it real w/ yall... im a lil drunk rn!!! hope this fic is still good tho lmao! this is pertaining to the plot of the anime rn like how gray and juvia reunited after six months... well we never did get to hear gray’s explanation or apology..... so here it is! enjoy! side note: after actually writing this 1. im not rly drunk anymore, a shame. and 2. all my fics as of recently literally have the same exact format lol!!! cool! great!! we love a boring queen! ok hopefully i can stray from this format in the future but for now! here is ~this~.<3

*

“Oi, Juvia,” Natsu turned and called out to Juvia. They were finally beginning their long awaited journey back to Magnolia, to reform their guild, after just defeating Avatar. “Did you and Gray wanna’ go back to your cabin and get some of your stuff before you go back?”

“G-g-go back?! Just the two of us?! After all this time?!” Juvia’s face turned a blistering red as she cupped her fiery cheeks in her hands. It had been so long since they were both alone in that house together. What would it be like? How would they act? Would things be different?

“Oh yeah.” Gray calmly chimed in. “There are some things I wanna’ get.” He then turned to Juvia. “We should probably go.”

“O-of course! If Gray-sama insists!” She perked up, suddenly eager to go.

They caught a train back to the village they stayed in and made it there in a fairly short amount of time. Gray looked around their old home with suspicion.There wasn’t a soul to be seen. The town was once so full of life, and bright with spirit. Now the grey clouds above seemed to reflect the dreary village.

“Did something happen?” Gray asked Juvia as they casually walked through the town. “There’s nobody here.” He continued looking, looking for any sign of life.

“Oh.” Juvia remembered, and slouched slightly, partially ashamed. “Everyone kind of, well, left.” She said simply.

“What?” Gray was surprised. “Why?”

“Well...” She paused and took a moment to breathe. “Juvia’s rain sort of... came back, and it was, well, constant.” Her voice was sheepish. “It sort of drove everyone out of the village Juvia supposes.” She forced a smile and a fake lighthearted laugh.

That got Gray’s attention. He stopped looking through the village and snapped his focus onto Juvia. “What do you mean it came back?” He seemed annoyed.

“After Gray-sama left, Juvia’s rain came back.” She shrugged. Once she saw Gray’s look of what seemed like agitation, she began to panic. “It’s not a big deal or anything! Juvia was just being over-dramatic!” She gave another plastic smile, attempting to ease Gray.

“Tch.” Gray looked away from Juvia and turned back to the path to the way to their house, dropping the conversation.

Eventually, they approached their cabin. The wood that the house was built out of was seemingly becoming moldy, or at least dingy. All of the drapes to the windows were now closed, although Gray remembered Juvia always insisted they leave them open. The plants that Juvia adored that were littered around the porch were dead from drowning in her storm.

“Juvia is sorry the house is so out of shape, Gray-sama!” Juvia was embarrassed. She only ever had Gray on her mind, so she never took the time to worry about the appearance of their home once he was gone. Even though that place meant everything to her, she seemed to completely disregard it.

“Stop it.” Gray said, harshly. He didn’t need Juvia to explain herself. It was ridiculous of her. “It doesn’t matter anyway. We’re just here to get our stuff.”

“Right.” Juvia nodded.

Inside, the rooms were dark, and dusty. It was hard for Gray to believe they even lived their at one point, that this was the same home they shared. He remembered Juvia always making a fuss about keeping the place clean, and decorative, and so full of life: some things that this foreign lot was lacking.

Gray was finished packing up first. He had all of his belongings in a duffel bag with a couple other things held in his hand. The door to Juvia’s room was open, so he walked in and leaned on the frame of the doorway.

“Yo.” Juvia flinched to Gray’s low voice, it had been so long since she heard it. She paused her packing and turned around. “I’m all packed up. If you need any help just let me-” Gray paused. As he looked around, Juvia’s room seemed to follow the same format as the rest of the rooms. Dull, gloomy, muted, but something caught his eye.

“What’s this?” He set his belongings down. He walked over to her bedside table towards a vile of red liquid, which was now almost empty. 

“Oh, well, nothing really.” Juvia sporadically said with a forced chuckle and quickly was at Gray’s side, hoping to take the bottle before he could get a good look at it.

“Medicine?” He read the label of the bottle. “And it looks like Wendy’s handwriting.” He turned to Juvia.

“Y-yes.” Juvia took a step back and nervously held her hands together. “Wendy-san made that potion for Juvia.” She looked away.

“Why?”

“Juvia was, uh, well, sort of sick.” She remained avoiding eye contact.

“Sick?” Gray’s voice and tone raised. “You were sick? And Wendy couldn’t cure it with just her magic? She had to make a potion?” All of these little things were building up to one big slap in Gray’s face.

“Juvia had a very bad fever. I was sitting outside most of the time, so it was caused by my rain...” She said to the volume of that of a mouse, fidgeting her hands.

“Oh my god.” Gray sunk. He put the bottle back on the table and collapsed onto the bed, holding his head in his hands as his elbows rested on his knees. Just what had he done?

“B-but none of this is Gray-sama’s fault!” She was quick to perk up and defend Gray.

“All of this is my fucking fault!” Gray lifted his head and snapped his gaze to Juvia with sharp, blunt eyes, glistening with a sheen of tears. Juvia dropped her defense, and looked back beneath her.

“If it weren’t for me, this place wouldn’t look like shit, your rain wouldn’t have come back, and you wouldn’t have gotten sick!” He was angry. Juvia said nothing. “Am I wrong?!”

Juvia’s shoulders began to bog, jaggedly, up and down. She had finally broken. She was out of false excuses.

“Why did you leave me, Gray-sama?” She looked back up to him, tears overflowing in her piercing, yet helpless gaze. 

Gray’s eyes widened, the sight before him caused his breath to catch itself in his throat.

“I-it was a secret mission.” He looked away, bringing the blank look back to his face. “It was to get more info on Zeref. I had to go, and Erza told me I couldn’t tell or bring anyone.”

Juvia’s tears fell onto her face, and then onto the floor.

“Juvia knows.” Her head was down, once again. She gathered her composure, slightly, for a mere moment. “Juvia understands. Putting and end to Zeref and E.N.D is very important to Gray-sama. This was all for the best.” She sniffled. “So, why..?” She brought her hands up to her eyes, and lost the weak grip she had on herself for that second, and began sobbing into her palms.

“So why is Juvia so hurt?”

Gray said nothing for a brief instant. He looked at her, although she did not return the contact, with shock and sorrow in his eyes. He didn’t know what to think, and he couldn’t place Juvia’s emotions, but he knew what he was feeling.

Remorse, guilt, responsibility, sadness, Gray’s heart was a melting pot of these horrible things. He couldn’t bare to see her in so much pain before, and all because of him. He would not be the reason she shed tears. He refused, especially after all she’d done for him. She was by his side, supporting him through everything. Even after he abandoned her for six months, she still did nothing but be there for him. 

He quickly arose from the bed and wrapped his arms around her, with her hands still covering her eyes, causing her breath to stop in surprise for a second.

“It’s alright. I’m sorry.” His words were soft though his face was flinty. He stared at the wall as he brought his hand up to the back of Juvia’s head, firmly bringing her face to his chest, as he rested his chin atop her.

“G-Gray-sama should not have to apologize.” She shook her head as she sobbed into his chest, her voice muffled.

“Like hell I shouldn’t” His voice was even lower. “So cut the crap. You’re allowed to be sad. From some aspects, what I did,” He paused. “What I did to you was a shity thing. Really shitty.” Her cries were much softer as he spoke. He remembered all the scolding Natsu gave him, and manifested it into his words.“So let me say I’m sorry.” He grumbled through his pouted lips as his cheeks were colored pink.

Juvia finally removed her hands from her face and wrapped her arms around Gray, being encased by his warmth. The warmth that she had missed, so very much.

“It’s ok.” She hummed; her mood was already much better just by appreciating being in Gray’s hold. “Juvia is glad Gray-sama is ok.”

She held on even tighter, and in about a minute, her instincts kicked in. Her mind began to soar with thoughts of Gray, and his big, toned arms that were engulfing her. She subconsciously began to sniff him, and exhale with delight.

“Ahh.” She swooned. “Gray-sama still smells just as delicious as he always has.” She snuggled up against him. 

“O-kay” Gray announced. “That’s enough of that.” He said, avoiding Juvia’s odd comment. He pulled her away from him and turned back to his things. “We should probably head out. The guild isn’t gonna’ rebuild itself.”

“Aw!” Juvia said, defeated, and dramatically slouched over.

“Don’t sound so disappointed cause’ I stopped you from smelling me! Don’t you realize that ain’t normal!?” He exclaimed.

“Juvia doesn’t care about what’s normal! Juvia hasn’t smelled your sweet scent in six whole months! You can’t blame me!” She defended, reaching her arms out for Gray.

“Quit bein’ creepy and meet me in the living room when you’re done packing.” Gray asserted with an annoyed, but familiar look on his face as he quickly made his way out of her room and shut the door, as Juvia sulked on her bed.

They soon packed all of their belongings and walked through their front door, back into the village where a ray of sun peaked through the dispersing clouds.

“Juvia is so sad to say goodbye to she and Gray-sama’s home.” She frowned with exaggerated sniffles.

“I wouldn’t call this a goodbye.” He said frankly. “It’s more like a ‘see-ya-later.’“ He turned to Juvia with a smirk on his face. Her eyes began to glow, and she settled onto a content smile.

“Yes, Gray-sama.” She looked to the ground with her fulfilled smile.

On their walk to the train, Gray grabbed his arms and gave a small shiver.

“It’s gettin’ kinda’ cold out.” He simply said.

Juvia pondered and looked around a little to see any signs of anyone or anything being cold, which she did not, and felt her own body temperature at a fairly normal level, and for Gray especially, this weather was hardly anything.

“Really? Juvia doesn’t think it’s too co-” She turned back to Gray with confusion and quietly gasped as she saw him wrapping himself with a grey, poorly knitted, homey/cozy looking, seemingly worn in scarf. He did not make eye contact with her, and kept his sharp expression on the road ahead.

She knew that scarf all too well.

“Actually, Juvia is a little chilly.” Attempting to keep her overjoyed reaction in line, she simply wrapped her one arm around Gray’s and with the other she reached out and held his hand, causing him to initially flinch, but he kept his hand intertwined with hers.

They made their way to their true home, Fairy Tail, walking in bliss, putting the bad parts of the past behind them and looking to a hopeful future.

One where Juvia’s rain would never return.