#the great thing about this is the freedom that comes from trying something and then trying something else

[frost-eyed-autumn]

All questions he can -- for the most part -- answer, at least. Maybe with just a touch of omission or little white lie here or there. Conventionally, Abilities are something people are just born with. That's a commonly accepted fact for those who know about Gifted at all.

Except for his.

But he really doesn't want to touch on the whole artificial Gifted bit, because that will open up a whole new slew of questions leading straight into the exact thing he said he wasn't going to talk about.

It's not like she's ever likely to find out otherwise, and if she did, he's sure she'll forgive him a small embellishment for an arguably touchy topic he doesn't even discuss with his close friends about.

Except, he doesn't manage to make it that far yet, because they're interrupted, by some complete random who's apparently decided that muscling in between other men and prospect women is socially appropriate.

He sees her look, matches her sigh, and pushes himself up. He doesn't exactly deal with this sort of thing very often, especially not with his reputation, but probably because he seldom goes out one-on-one to socialize with most people.

(He has, unfortunately, been hit on himself a few too many times, and even been mistaken for being not-so-masculine. It's just usually a particular side of town, with a particular type crowd of drunks, at particular hours of the night, and this isn't it.)

Either way, he has his ways of dealing with obnoxious bullshit. Sometimes its violence, if its warranted, but he's still waiting on his food and he really doesn't want to deal with either disgruntled staff or an assault report with the police today.

Sure, the Port Mafia has great lawyers. He'll walk with a slap on the wrist. He just doesn't want to ruin his meal in the meantime with an interrogation.

"Hey buddy." He grabs him by the shirt collar the same moment the other guy straightens up like he thinks he's about to throw down and win, and half-lifts him off his feet and walks him back, much to the apparent astonishment of the guy getting manhandled that so much seeming strength could come from someone so petite, and with so little effort.

That's the fun of Gravity, though, really.

It's even more fun when he gets to make people eat their words calling him something like pipsqueak. He's killed people for that before, and its only by the sheer luck of lots of witnesses around and his dinner he hasn't yet gotten to enjoy that he doesn't commit the guy to a hospital right now, personally and thrown multiple blocks across town through a window.

Or into a mortuary.

"The adults are fucking talking," and really, the other onlookers nearby are just an extra perk to land another blow to the man's pride, as he strides to some far side of the sidewalk, and decides potting soil in a decorative planter is as good a place as any to deposit a disrespectful worm like this.

With a little bit of added gravity to keep him thoroughly stuck in place for a while.

"How 'bout you sit in time out for a while and think about your life choices?"

Looking halfway between annoyed and pleased with himself, he swivels back around, ignoring the man struggling for freedom like a turtle on its back but yelping like a dog for help to get unstuck.

He takes his seat again, passively aware of the fact multiple other people are now fixated on the man in the planter making a scene, some perhaps laughing a little, maybe a waiter or two trying to help him out and perplexed at how he could possibly have gotten so stuck, but to him? Might as well not even exist anymore. At least no moreso far in as it takes to keep the guy glued where he is with his Ability, casually re-crossing one leg over the other.

He hopes the guy only wishes he'd punted him across town instead of publicly humiliated him. It might be a different story if he ever crosses paths with him again anywhere a little less public.

"So where were we?"

𝐍𝐄𝐎 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓, 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 '𝐁𝐎𝐎' in response, but settles across from him, neat and prim as ever- an automatic motion from years of etiquette classes. She arranges herself into something more casual a moment later, elbow on the table, cheek in her palm, legs crossed and swung slightly to the side. Still, it's clear that even doing this much is something she has to think about sometimes- something that isn't as automatic as she's more often than not capable of making it appear.

It takes her a bit of perusing to decide, unlike Chuuya who seems to know what he wants immediately. Benefits of knowing the place, she supposes. She settles on her own order of takoyaki and seafood shoyu with extra noodles, and a glass of yuzu sake. Then she settles to wait, peering around the patio and noting the best lines of egress just in case. When Chuuya speaks, her eyes blink toward him slowly, head canting more heavily against her palm.

Of course she has questions, but she knows the most pressing one will be vetoed immediately- and it is, almost immediately, and she smirks at him with a little arch of one brow.

Because she doesn't want to broadcast the entirety of their conversation to the people around them, Neo pulls out her scroll to type. While she's curious about a lot, she's not sure how much she's able to ask out here, and so keeps it simple for the moment.

How long have you had your ability? Did you figure out how to use it on your own, or did you have help? I know I'm not supposed to ask about That but... is it- going to be a problem in the future?

That last one may be pushing it a bit, but she can't help but worry. One of the things her Semblance makes her good at is figuring things out. Controlling abilities that aren't natural to her as an extension of herself. That whatever had tried to burst out of the copy of him hadn't been something that she could keep under wraps was concerning. And if there was a chance it might come careening out of him in the future, she wanted to know, just in case.

Her drink arrives before the food, and Neo reaches for it immediately, taking a slow sip. Before she can pick it up, however, a hand settles between her reach and the glass, a body looming over her and invading her space. Neo barely pays him attention, instead looking back at Chuuya in abject disbelief. When she tunes back in to the idiot, she hears —

"- don't you ditch the pipsqueak and let me show you a real good time?"

— and sighs loudly.

Looking at Chuuya, she lifts her brow high again, tilting her head toward the guy as if to ask whether he wants to deal with this or not. She'd really rather not have to get up, but the longer her her drink sits there getting lukewarm, the more likely it is that whatever she does isn't going to be pleasant.

[coichii]

SUPER RICH KIDS ! L.F

summary ── a graduation party has you getting drunk at a spoiled rotten pretty boys house, causing you to accidentally spend the night there. one small problem though. you’re a loser, and the pretty boy seems to be taking a liking to you. tags ── richboy!felix x loser!fem!reader | highschool au | fluff, angst, comfort, etc | (4767 wc)

warnings & notes ── itzys yuna & le serrafims yunjin mentioned, alcohol (I’ve never had alcohol before, sorry for inaccurate descriptions) throwing up + hangover, some cursing, bullying, harassment, some strange behavior from Felix (slight stalking), I’ve never been to a party, blood, and fighting.

Okay, having outgoing friends is absolutely not for the weak.

Graduation, the thing you had been looking forward to all 4 years of high-school had just passed. Finally, the idea of never logging into that damn school email sounds like heaven on earth.

It’s summer, meaning three months of freedom before it’s straight to college. You’re 18 now, officially an adult. But you will admit, attending a party hosted by a random rich asshole from your school wasn’t exactly what you had planned to celebrate this recent freedom.

It wasn’t your idea ofcourse. If anything, you wish you could be at home binging a new episode of that one show you started recently. Being surrounded by a bunch of alcohol and random kids smoking is pretty much the last thing you wanted to do on your first weekend off.

“Cmon! It’ll be fun!” Yuna exclaims, grabbing your hand and yanking you towards the huge mansion. Woah. This is the biggest house you’ve seen in a while.

Where you’re from, it’s not uncommon to see rich kids with huge houses. Actually, it’s pretty common. But none exactly compare to the “prince of the school’s” house. Well, that prince of the school stuff is just bullshit.

What’s so special about owning a big home or having a butler? It’s certainly something you would never understand. You’re well off, but compared to these kids, you might as well have nothing.

And it showed in the way they treated you. Whether it was bullying or judgmental stares in the hallway, it’s like they were always watching and judging, waiting to make fun of you.

So why your friends would want to hang out with a bunch of pricks who put on fake smiles behind all their evil is beyond you. Especially in the house of somebody like him.

“Please let me go home.” You whine, closing your eyes and the sound of music blasting out of the windows of the home. Hopefully someone will call the cops for a noise complaint. No wait… it’s not like the cops will do anything anyways.

“I’m not letting you spend your only summer before you go off to college in your room rotting. Please, y/n? You just need to come out of your comfort zone.” Yunjin, your other friend begs, pouting her lips at you like a kicked puppy.

A deep sigh leaves your lips. Of course she’s the one to try and guilt trip.

“Fine. But if any thing pops off, I’m calling an Uber.” You oblige, finally walking into the house.

There’s so many people here, yet it seems empty because of the sheer size of the house. Loud, bass boosted music carries itself throughout the entire house, echoing throughout your ears.

People are scattered throughout the building. Some just mingling, others drinking & dancing. Jeez, how the hell did this prick get his parents to agree to this.

“Hey! My crush is here! I didn’t know he was coming.” Yuna shouts, turning towards you with a giddy smile. “I’ll be right back, k?”

Before you can mutter a single sound of protest, she scatters toward the random pile of people. When you look to your right towards Yunjin, you notice she’s missing as well.

Great. She could be anywhere.

You’re in the last place you wanted to be, and now you’re alone with a bunch of random people. You would normally leave, but you need a ride from Yuna first, and the Uber was just a front. Of course today was a day you left your wallet.

Not only that, but it’s the middle of summer, so it’s hot as all get out. Seriously, how does a place like this not have a working A/C?

A thirst sets itself into your throat, stinging slightly. You walk over to a table with drinks, but it’s only alcohol, the smell burning the insides of your nostrils.

“Excuse me?” You ask, walking up to a random person that was laundering around the drinks table. “Is there any water?”

“No, only alcohol. Who even are you?” The boy answers rudely, staring at you with an expression mixed with disgust & confusion.

“Thank you, I guess?” You reply, a condescending tone falling onto your lips. Welp, with how bad this thirst is, I guess you don’t have much of a choice.

You pick up a plastic red cup, the drink shimmering in the light coming from the ceiling. A deep breath, then a sip.

It’s spicy, yet it’s surprisingly pleasant. It has a nice floral ring to it while also obviously including liquor.

You finish slurping on the drink, quickly picking up another to try. Different than the last one you had, but still delicious.

─── ★

Honestly, by this point, it’s hard to tell exactly how long you’ve been here. Maybe it’s dark, you can’t tell. All the blinds in the house are down.

Your phones somewhere, you don’t know. The only thing you do know right now is that you’ve definitely had too much to drink.

Your walking is unsteady, and you can feel the fogginess in your head. Okay, maybe 2 cups full was a bit much to have at one moment as a beginner.

Another thing you’re aware of, it’s been way too long since you’ve last seen Yunjin or Yuna. There’s also significantly less people in the house than there was when you got here.

“Oomph!” A deep voice shrieks as you feel your body bump into something. Looking up, you see a face, but you can’t exactly make out who it is.

They’re pretty.

“Woah, sorry about tha-“

“You’re pretty. Can I have your number?” Something you’d never expect to say tumbles from your lips, catching you slightly off guard. The alcohol is outweighing the logic in your body telling you to go look for Yuna & Yunjin and is telling you to keep talking to this random handsome guy.

“Flattered, but are you drunk? You have a reputation for hating people like me.” The voice says, soothing your ears.

“Forget that, I’m fine. Number. Now.” You slur, smiling and looking for your phone in imaginary pockets. “Fuck, where’d my phone go.”

“I think you’re drunk. Did you come with anyone, y/n?” They ask, voice sincere and soft. …Wait, how did they know my name?

“You know me?” You ask, an odd feeling washing over you.

“Yeah, I think you’re cute. We were in the same english class, how could I not.” he chuckles, and your eyes widen.

“Did you come with anyone?” He asks again, grabbing a cup of water for you and handing it to you. Ah. So they did have water. “Everyone’s going home, it’s late.”

“Yeah. I came with Yuna & Yunjin. Yuna was my ride.” You say, water soothing every part of your body.

“Ah, they left earlier. I think they were drunk.” He sighs. “Well, I guess you should spend the night.”

“Yeah, okay.” You respond, basically not understanding a single word he’s saying to you. Your only focus is drinking more water, helping the parched feeling on your throat.

“Well, you need to get sober. I guess I should give you more of that.” The guy says, going towards the empty kitchen to grab cold water out the fridge.

Suddenly, a random sickening feeling comes in your stomach. You gag, running towards the nearest trash can and releasing the contents of your stomach into it.

It’s a disgusting feeling, one that quickly has your head snapping right back into common sense mode.

Where the hell am I? What time is it? Where’d those two go?

“Y/n!” A familiar deep voice shouts, causing you to turn towards the noise.

Oh my God. The whole time, the man you were talking to, flirting with, begging him to give you his number. It was Felix. The epitome of everything that you hate.

His hand rubs over your back, pulling your hair out of your face and staring with concern. Why. Why is somebody like him concerned? He has bigger issues to worry about, not you.

“Get off of me.” You say, pushing his arm off of you. Your breath quickens up, a fear settling in your voice.

“Oh, seems you’ve sobered up. You should still spend the night, it’s too danger-“

“Shut up.” You spit, and he’s immediately silent, staring at you with widened eyes.

“I don’t know what ideas you have, but you can do them with someone else. I’m sober now, no need to play sympathy with me anymore. Thanks for the hospitality.” You say, a condescending tone in your words.

Standing up, you find where you left your purse on a random couch and try to make your way out of the house. Gosh, why are they all like that.

“Y/n! Cmon, I’m not like that. It’s dangerous this late, even for an Uber!” He pleads, racing towards you to try and stop you from leaving.

“Why would you care. You’re all the same. I’ll give you props for at least knowing my name, so stop acting like you give a shit about me.“ You say, turning your head back towards the man. His expression looks genuine, but it can’t be. It never is.

“It’s not that! I’ve liked you for a while, seriously I have. I’d do this for anybody, but especially you. Please. Think about it. It’s too dark.” He begs, eyes wide with sweat dripping down his face.

A deep breath in, and a deep breath out.

“Goodbye.” You deliver, turning your back towards him and slamming the door behind you.

Okay, he’s right. It’s dark & it’s dangerous out here. But whatever is out here is better than being in the same place as him.

You know where you’re going, all you have to do is keep running.

─── ★

The sun creaks its way through your blinds, stirring you awake. A headache is the first thing you feel when you come to your senses, echoing throughout the chambers of your skull.

You reach for you phone first thing, groaning at the brightness of the screen. 4pm… fuck.

Not to mention that, but your phone is spammed with instagrams notifications. They’re not from Yuna or Yunjin, so who else could it be.

30 messages from yongbokspg unread. Great. I thought I blocked him.

Not even bothering to read the messages, you put your phone down on the nightstand, taking in a deep breath of air in an attempt to subdue the growing nausea in your stomach.

Why’d you go to that stupid party, just for Yuna & Yunjin to leave you. You get they got drunk as-well, but still.

It doesn’t take long for tears to start swelling in your eyes, one rolling delicately down your cheek as you choke them down in your throat.

Ring! The doorbell sounds, causing a pit to form in your stomach. Of course, your parents are off on vacation. That’s the only way you got to go to this party anyways.

Planning to ignore it, you close your eyes again, hoping to be able to fall back asleep to help the exhaustion settled into your body. The sound rings again, again and again, the person being persistent on the other side.

Sighing, you get up out of bed, tying your hair up and washing your face while the doorbell ringing persists, groaning with annoyance at whoever the hell is doing all that on a random Saturday afternoon.

Walking towards the door, you swing it open, an expression of annoyance written all over your face as you lock eyes with the stranger.

“Can I hel-“

It’s him.

“Y/n. Are you oka-“

“How the hell did you get my adress.” You fumed, narrowing your eyes at him as his expression softens.

“I uh.. I-I got it from my dad. He works for the school board.” He admits, eyes turning down as a wave of guilt hits him. The only thing that hits you is anger.

“You what?” You hissed, surprise finding its way into your body. “I’m supposed to listen to what you say after you tell me that? That’s fucking creepy.”

“I know. I know it’s creepy. That was wrong of me, but I needed to make sure you were okay. Cmon! You ran out my house in the middle of the night then didn’t respond to any of the messages I sent you either! I had no choice.” He pleads, but it’s hard to believe him.

“Don’t you see the problem? I left your house because I’m scared you’ll take advantage of me the same way every other spoiled rich kid in the whole school does. Then, you use the same privilege you have to find me when I don’t want to see you! That’s the problem. You can’t even see past that and I’m supposed to talk to you? Get over yourself. Think about others, or is that impossible for people like you?”

Your words cut like a knife, sharply carving his soul into tiny little pieces of nothing. It’s then, where every moment leading up to this hits him like a truck.

Sure, he noticed you, and he did seriously like you. He always had from every single sight he got of you in english class or in the hallways. He always found you to be absolutely beautiful.

But.. how the hell were you supposed to know that? It’s not like he ever made an effort to talk to you. Not even a word. All the stuff you had to deal with in school, and you were just supposed to accept and trust him? How could you.

It’s so obvious that it’s shocking when he comes to this realization. You weren’t running away from him for any irrational reasons, it was all his fault that he didn’t realize. It was all him, and all he did was make everything worse, and give you even more of a reason not to trust him.

What an idiot.

“You’re right.” He concedes, and you let out a gasp of surprise.

“You’re absolutely right. I wasn’t thinking of anybody but myself. You made the best choice, and all I did was ruin the little trust you had for me even more. I’d understand if you called the police, but there’s something I need you to hear before that.”

You don’t know why, but you let him keep speaking.

“I’m being genuine. I’ve liked you since I first saw you in english class. I never talked to you because I was too nervous. Hard to believe, I know. But no one’s ever made me that nervous before. And I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. All I did was think of myself, and continued to pursue you even when you were uncomfortable all because I got the chance to. I wanted you to be safe, but all I did was make you even more uncomfortable. I’m so, so sorry. I’ll leave you alone now.”

His voice is uncharacteristically low and somber, weird for somebody so outgoing. The look in his eyes, the genuine regret that looms in his eyes is enough to cause your heart to beat fast, your breath quickening up in the process.

He turns around, walking away from you and heading back to the car he had parked on the side of the road.

This boy. He lives in a completely different world than you do. He’ll never understand exactly what you go through. You’ve hated people like him since you could first remember. So why, why you find your self speaking is something you don’t think you’ll ever understand.

“Felix. I forgive you.”

He snaps his head back immediately, shock mixing in with his previous somber face. “What?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself. I might.. never truly believe the fact that you’re even a bit attracted to me, but I don’t believe the fact that you’re a good person with good intentions. And for that, I forgive you.” You say, twisting your hands through your hairs. “You can leave n-“

Suddenly, you’re gagging. Ah. Hangover, right. Immediately, you make a run for the bathroom, throwing up the insides of your stomach into the toilet.

If there’s a top 1 worst feeling, throwing ups gotta be it. It’s a feeling that shakes you down to your core, spreading through your skin and body like poison.

Tears spring back into your eyes, cascading down your face as you attempt to stifle down your sobs.

“Y/n!” Felix shouts. Ofcourse he’s in the house now. God damnit.

“Where’s the nausea medicine, let me get it for you.” He says, a strangely soothing tone in his voice as he rubs your back.

You don’t have it in you to tell him to get the hell out, so all you can do is sigh and point to the cabinet above the sink. He immediately reacts, opting the doors and searching diligently through the messy shelves.

“Found it!”

He puts the correct dosage of pills into your hands, running to your kitchen to grab a bottle of water to help you swallow.

He watches as you take the pills, continuing to run his hands down your back in a comforting manner. Unlike yesterday, you let him.

His blonde hair falls over his eyes as you turn your head to him, a blush over his cheeks as he turns his head away. His hand moves to your head, giving you warming pets that melt into your soul.

“Uhm. Please, tell me if there’s anything you need.” He mutters, brown freckles shining. It’s easy to observe them to distract from the nausea. Huh, one’s a heart. Cute.

“No. Just.. don’t stop that hand thing.” You whispered, cringing at yourself in the process as you see a small smile fall upon his lips.

“With pleasure.”

─── ★

It’s been about six months since that whole interaction with Felix, and you two have been inseparable since. Where you went, he went and vice versa, of course.

It started with you following him back on instagram. Then it was texting & calling. That turned into hanging out whenever you got free time off your classes.

Surprisingly (at least to you), Felix was actually enrolled into a pretty decent college that wasn’t too far away from yours, so you were able to see each other pretty often.

Being his best friend was so easy for you, but for him, it was excruciating. All he wanted to do was pull you close and kiss those pretty lips of yours all day— no, for the rest of his life.

But to him, it just seemed like you didn’t see him like that. Like there was something in you preventing you from giving your heart to him, and he hated it.

He’d never want to make you uncomfortable, so if he had to bury his feelings down in the deepest pits of his heart in order to keep you in his life— hell, just even looking at him? He would, without any hesitation.

It wasn’t like that though, you did like him, you really did. The way his smile shined and warmed your heart every time wasn’t something that went unnoticed, just unaddressed.

You knew Felix was a good person, and you loved him for that. Even so, it’s not that easy to erase the fear in your heart that you’d never be good enough for him. I mean, he’s beautiful, a pure stunning angel sent from heaven itself.

And there’s you. Sure, you wouldn’t call yourself ugly, but can you call yourself beautiful around someone as gorgeous as him? Not really. He’s talented, smart, funny, kind, everything. And you, you’re a nerd who’s already cried at least 5 times over school and it’s just the first semester of freshman year.

As fate would have it, just like him, you’ll keep your feelings buried deep inside yourself. A future with him caged by the intimidation of senseless fear.

“It’s packed in here.” Felix says, grabbing your hand in an attempt to not lose you. A blush paints itself on your face.

“Since when are you not used to parties like this.” You reply, and he glares playfully back at you, stifling a giggle.

A party celebrating the end of the first semester at his school is where you were currently at. Interesting… you think you would have given up on parties after how the last one went.

Well you would have if Felix didn’t beg for you to come along, citing that “your presence helps him not get drunk.” or whatever nonsense he shared with you before dragging you out of your dorm room.

“Cmon, I heard they’re passing out drinks over there.” He squeals, squeezing the palm of your hand tighter as you scrape past multiple random people.

Felix was right; it is packed. The music bounces off the walls of the random dorm building, and it is smoldering hot. Ah, flashbacks.

All of a sudden, your body feels like it’s been hit by a brick wall as you slam into a random person infront of you. Their drink splashes all over you, soaking your clothes in the sour smell of the beer. Gross.

“Oh! I’m so sorry about that. I can go get you another. What did you ha-“

“The hell is your problem?” He screams loud enough for the people in the vicinity to hear over the deafening music and stare. As soon as you lock eyes with the stranger staring you down, your heart drops all the way down to your stomach.

It’s the guy you ran into at the party back in Highschool.

“Oh, it’s you. Still can’t get your head screwed on right at places like this, huh?” He spits, bitter words reopening an old wound you thought Felix had healed.

Speaking of Felix, he had been staring down the man ever since he noticed the smallest bit of malice in his voice, but now he’s trying to calm himself before he gets expelled.

“Hey man, chill out. She said she was sorry.” He says, voice covered in fake calmness. You can tell, you know him well enough.

The man turns his head towards Felix, and you can see the shock coat his face. “It’s that Felix I see. What are you doing here.. with her?” Oh.

“That’s none of your business. Cmon, let’s go get our drinks.” He responds before returning his attention to you, starting to pull you away from the man.

“Wait.”

Moments later, you feel him hand grab your shoulder. He has a sickeningly strong grip. It hurts, and he’s squeezing even tighter.

“Hey.. let go of me!” You scream, yanking your arm out of his grasp all running to Felix. You burry yourself into his arms, watching as the rather calm anger on his face turns to rage.

Usually, you’re able to protect yourself against pricks like these. Today though, something is different. You don’t know if it’s the setting of the party, or the fact that you’ve got someone who will take some of the weigh off your shoulders now. Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Especially not now that Felix is walking up to the man with balled fist and a beyond pissed off expression.

You’ve spent a lot of time with Felix, but you’ve never seen him that angry before. The cliche saying “if looks could kill a man” unfortunately really fit with this situation.

“I know you didn’t just touch her.” He says, anger spilling through his clenched teeth.

“What? You actually give a shit? I don’t even know her name.” He rolls his eyes, folding his arms. “I just want a ‘proper’ apology, so why don’t you move on somewh-“

His sentence is cut off by felix swinging his left fist towards his jaw, knocking him clean down on the ground. An audible gasp is let out from most of the people standing around the commotion, some chanting fight while others silently grab their phones.

“Huh?! Do you wanna repeat that?!” Felix yells, and the guy gets off the ground before wiping the blood off of his bruised cheek.

“Whatever dude.. have fun with your bitch.” He dismisses, turning around to his back facing Felix.

“What did you just s-“

“Felix.” Your voice cuts through the thoughts he was having, brining a calmness through the fury in his brain. “Let’s just go home, k?”

Felix takes in a deep sigh before nodding a yes towards you. He doesn’t forget to take your hand once again while walking towards the exit, ignoring the judgmental & disappointed faces of everyone in the crowd staring at you two. The only thing that mattered to him was making sure you were comfortable and okay.

It doesn’t take long to exit the dorm. Since it was his college too, and thankfully also him dorm building, you two just decide to walk to his dorm, walking in silence as the music slowly fades out of radius.

When you walk into his dorm room, all you can do is give him a tight hug, pressing your whole body into his as if you were trying to merge into him. Not that you or him would be against that at all.

“Thank you.” Is all you can manage to say to him, burrowing your face into his chest and his face heats up from the proximity.

“Of course. Sorry he got to touch you first though.” He sighs, stroking your back just like you’ve always liked since you met him.

“Why are you sorry? It was all that guys fault for being a prick. You stood up for me when I couldn’t myself.” Your voice is low, each syllable soothing the still angry thoughts in Felix’s head.

“Yeah well, I hate when anyone messes with you. Feel like I failed at protecting you like I should’ve.” He stops running his hand up and down your back at this point, lifting your chin so that you’re looking him in his eyes. “I just.. don’t want you to suffer anymore.”

It’s as if the timid version of you from mere minutes ago is completely erased. Now, all you can think about is how close you two are.

You’re hugging the man you’ve liked— no loved since half a year ago so close for what? Just for you to throw it all away again because of a stupid fear that you’ll never be good enough for him? What’s the point in living in the cages of a fear made by those who never got the chance to know you.

Those cages might keep you safe, but if they’re going to take away the opportunity to be with the man that your heart desperately yearns for, they’re absolutely worth shattering.

“Y-You know… there’s something you can do to make me feel better.” You whisper, embarrassment quickly rushing over your features when he looks you in your eyes.

“Yeah? What’s that?” He asks, sincerity in every bit of his voice. A deep breath.

“Kiss me.”

His eyes widen, body growing hot within a matter of milliseconds. “H-huh? Are you sure? You always turned me down before.”

“I know, and that was always out of fear. But, I don’t want that to hold me back anymore.” You murmur, face growing hot. “So kiss me.”

Felix doesn’t wait any longer, bringing his hand to your head and bringing his lips to yours.

It’s soft, yet passionate at the same time. He presses deeper into you, walking you over to press you to a wall as you kiss him back.

If there’s anyway to die, it’s gotta be like this. The utter peace you’re feeling as you try to stop a tear from rolling down your face is unfathomable. It’s him, the man you thought you’d always hate. The man who’d soon became the final piece to the hole in your soul. The man who you soon fell madly in love with that you’re kissing.

And wow, does it feel like heaven on earth.

“Wow, I’ve wanted to do that for forever.” He sighs once he pulls away from your lips, a flush shared on both of your faces.

“Me too.” You whisper, putting your head into the collar of his neck. Peace & contention. The perfect feeling for right now.

“So… can I take you out for lunch tomorrow? I hope you know I plan on making you my girlfriend now.” He sheepishly asks, fiddling with his fingertips.

“Of course, but.. wasn’t that always the plan?”

“Sure, but now I can actually implement it.” He giggles, brining his hand to caresses your cheek again. “Now, kiss me again.”

[niccinii]

I think about ! Kaoru a lot and aeough, he's so messed up, like not just his behaviour which makes him so hard to read in that era.

He's so goddamn lonely. He misses his mom, so he's chasing girls because he's trying to find "love," but he's conflated platonic/familial love with romantic love. So he's going after girl after girl looking for something he won't find, so nothing sticks. That idea about conflating all types of love actually comes up in the Sandstorm epilogue when one of the twins brings up Kaoru recognising the difference between love and romance.

He's also not that close with his family in !, which idk how close they are now in !! but I think in Sandstorm he mentions that their relationship has improved with them now that they don't live together. He's closer to his sister and his worry about her marriage (Bridal or whatever the photoshoot one is called, Wanted, whatever the Sustain Memories story is called) goes thru !!

But in Aquarium, he laments to Kanata how he feels separated from his family and they always use honorifics with each other. Kanata then offers to give Kaoru a nickname, and in another fun ! Kaoru behaviour, he recoils and says he doesn't want that. He's so fucking lonely but also doesn't want to get close to anyone and I don't think that's just 'I only care about girls' thing.

His relationships with girls are very superficial because you know, looking for something he won't find but I also think he probably gets afraid of getting close and attached. He does mention taking girls to the beach which is something he truly loves, but in other stories (Wanted I think), he mentions how he reads shit he doesn't care about because a lot of girls like it and he wants to practise claw machines to impress girls and win them prizes.

I'm sure the looming threat of once Yumenosaki is over, he'll have to go back to the livehouse/Hakaze business because that's what the agreement was with his dad. He can fuck around for a bit and then has to go back to what his dad wants. And in Sandstorm, he mentions that when he made his decision to be an idol, he was fully prepared and expecting to be disowned, which didn't happen but the mental toll of that isn't great. He also feels a lot of guilt that his siblings don't get the freedom he's gotten and that his fucking around comes at their expense even now.

I know it's hehe haha to be like internalised homophobia Kaoru Hakaze, but the way his grief (and not just for his mom's death) is consuming him makes me go aeough and I think Surfing Ocean may be the story where he recognises that he's being destroyed by grief but idk I may just like that story a lot.

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Gosh, do I love discovery writing. The freedom. The sense of play. The way you have to hold the material lightly and follow where it leads, never being afraid to scrap things that don't work or to rewrite to emphasize things that do. You have the fun of discovering the story you're writing rather than the frustration of being unable to capture the ideas in your head. This way might wind up taking ages, but it makes the writing process such a joy.

[waywardsalt]

tag rant but man i fuckin hate the new direction for loz

[chow0w]

I’d honestly love to see your take on fashion for all of the tribes! I always love seeing world-building in the fork of fashion!

Thank you so much!! I'm trying to branch out and tie fashion in with lore/culture - I genuinely lost the plot with this one but you have to walk with me like WALK with me right now. come here.

Scarlet and the Skywings: A discussion on fashion, politics and culture

About this image: Queen Scarlet crawls out of her own self-portrait, looking down at Tourmaline and the Skywings in fury. She does not notice the Guillotine above her or the fire below her, focused only on her daughter who looks up in defiance. The words 'Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité' are repeated in the background, and Tourmaline's wings are drawn to look like rays of sun.

Setting the scene - Skywings and the French

I won't pretend to know the Skywing kingdom inside out, but tailwind's section in guide to the tribes gives good insight to the kingdom's situation during Scarlet/Firestorm's reign. the extract suggests that the Skywing kingdom was an economically thriving center for the arts, as well as a kingdom which followed some semblance of an aristocracy with noble families and an upper/lower class divide - similar to the situation of pre-revolution France.

We must also consider the scope of how bad things actually were before/during Queen Scarlet's reign. Social class is never directly mentioned in canon, but it could easily be reasoned (from her + Queen Firestorm's behavior) that Scarlet's rule created tons of problems for the kingdom's commoner. between fighting 20 years of sandwing succession war, uprooting major cultural practices and dumping heinous amounts of money into self-portraits, it's safe to say Scarlet and her mother were probably the two worst things that could ever happen to the average working Skywing. Like this is the Queen who threw Osprey (A public figure old enough to be long loved) into a ravine for... teaching Peril the law.

Starved of kingdom funding, ripped from their culture and sent off to die in a sandwing war, I really feel that the Skywings deserved to crash out French style on their high society.

(That's not to say that I dislike the canon plot of the kingdom: in fact, I think it's good - it completes its duty as a plot device and still manages to make sense and be cool. If I was Tui, I would absolutely call it a day there. Lucky for me, I'm a tumblr artist and not a bestselling author. I get to write about violent revolutions.)

The revised timeline

Given the context on why I think the Skywings needed a good revolution, here's how I personally would've structured the timeline after Scarlet's rule, including the events of Escaping Peril. If you haven't read that book, I suggest skipping down to the next image.

Scarlet comes into power. Bad things happen to everyone. Skywings are pissed for 20 years, but between the war, economic issue and the fire demon (Peril) nobody really has the energy to revolt. They stay quietly angry, and (perhaps) form something similar to the chrysalis.

One day, the dragonets of destiny arrive - something happens in the arena and the tyrant is gone. The kingdom sits in aftershock for a moment, before springing into gleeful celebration. The real bloodbath is never for Scarlet - presumed to be dead or missing, they turn to the Skywing nobles who supported her instead. The WoF wiki states Skywings enjoy entertainment and fighting alike, so I like to think their last gritty celebration of freedom was making the (oppressive) aristocracy their last arena victims. Dragons like Tailwind (born into nobility but low-lying or unsupportive) were probably spared.

Queen Ruby is elected to be the new skywing ruler by default - some Skywings may feel hesitant or reluctant to have Scarlet's daughter in power, but tradition + scares of another sandwing-type war keep them from kicking her out. She does a great job, so it doesn't matter anyways and they love her.

Scarlet comes back in Escaping Peril, and for a brief moment the kingdom is turned upside down. Stories spread like wildfire, and the Skywing population are ignited with a new sense of rage at their old Queen's return. At this point, I don't even think Peril's presence would be able to stop riots and uprise on the streets.

Ruby challenges Scarlet and the canon ending happens, or Peril (somehow) realizes Ruby is Tourmaline another way and the fight can be avoided altogether. Instead, the nature of Tourmaline's erasure (using animus magic, changing her identity) is so offensively un-Skywing that the population snaps and jump Scarlet together, right then and there. She dies like Scar from the lion king.

Back to the fashion - high society

Plot lost, plot recovered. I will talk about fashion now - starting with that of the aristocracy (specifically during Scarlet and Firestorm's reign.)

Extravagant garments crown the nature of upper-class fashion: big bows, long dresses, feathered headpieces and fur wigs are what make you well-dressed here. Curiously, upper-class Skywing attire is not very Skywing at all: imports are in, tradition is out! The dragons of the aristocracy order pearls from the sea, pelts from the north and the finest tailors to put it together. As the sandwing succession war starts, trade deals are interrupted and these garments become rarer: more valuable.

Function and Logistics

These garments are generally viewed as unisex, with the urge to be best dressed outcompeting the urge to have gendered clothing within society. Most of them have intricate mechanical makeup, which is a landmark to the Skywings and their long history of design. Copper wires braided together are bent to form skirt cages, and headdresses are fashioned in place using a complicated network of leather bands and iron clips. Putting these outfits on would undoubtedly require a team of assistants: maids clip the headdress in place while tailors edit the radius of the skirt cage, fixing it in place with a small plume of flame. The final result is a splendorous, inconvenient piece of clothing meant to show your wealth and absolutely nothing else. I imagine that flying is near impossible with these garments (or - one can fly, at the expense of their gown) so most dressing and undressing is done within palace walls.

Queen Scarlet and her mother, obsessed with beauty, would likely uphold these garments as a uniform standard within balls and celebrations. Skywings were expected to look as best as they could, with absolutely no exceptions and a very deadly consequence for disobedience. Fashion is always, in some aspect, political; seeing this type of needless extravagance as a working-class Skywing would've undoubtedly sparked anger, and I'm sure the French revolutionaries would agree.

Clothing for the Skywings: past and present

As it tends to, the fashion of the elites will bleed into the world around it - and with the removal of their culture and tradition, the Skywings of the kingdom would most likely follow suit in how they dressed themselves - abandoning traditional garb in fear of Queen Scarlet, and adopting new fashion trends.

These trends would include simplified, practical versions of High-class clothing: petticoats and puff sleeves replace pearl necklaces, fitting in with societal expectations while still being functional. These coats could be used to store day-to-day necessities like gold coins, trinkets or herbal medicines, with the sleeves made from thinly stretched fabric. Some Skywings may choose to embroider their coats and shirts, or even wear a hat - a slightly impractical item which could be used to flaunt one's financial security. While this fashion is nice, I'm sure lots of Skywings would be old enough to remember their traditional wear: some may even have it in their home, tucked away in the attic with other relics of home.

I imagine these garments were much more fluid in shape: made to be beautiful and flyable, they consisted of long fabrics trailing down from the base of one's neck, made from local materials found on the mountain - feathers, wool, flower dyes etc. The clothes themselves were beautifully detailed through pattern, not shape: beads, embroidery and stitching could be used to create a high-class garment, which would be used during weddings or balls. Some hats may have also been present, although these would still be largely difficult to fly with. These clothes probably returned as the Skywing kingdom began to heal, alongside the old traditions buried under tyranny.

When sketching these garments, I looked to traditional Kazakh clothing for inspiration, as both cultures share their mountainous location and use of local material. I understand that Kazakh and French clothing are different fashions from wildly different cultures, and the only reason this really works is because I'm writing in the context of fictional dragon world and not real human world. I considered keeping the fashion solely French, but honestly they're both so beautiful I had to include Kazakh clothing too!

Choosing which cultures to investigate is always the hardest part about making these posts, and so I'm trying to incorporate a lot of diversity as I plan - and maybe even explore one tribe in the lens of multiple cultures.

If you made it all the way down here, thank you so much for reading along! Writing about lore and culture is SO fun, and I really appreciate all of you who've inquired about fashion/culture within the other tribes! These posts take a little bit longer to make, so I'm aiming for one a week but we'll see. To anyone interested, my art contest is still going until the end of June! If you're a regular on this blog you will have heard this too often and want to jump me, but please have mercy.

You can find more info and enter here, in my discord server!

later ヾ(`ヘ´)ﾉﾞ

[interact-if]

Writing Spotlight: Infamous (Interview)

We had the great pleasure to interview Amy, author of the massively beloved IF Infamous (@infamous-if). She shared some tips, tricks, and insights on her approach to writing.

One of the most notable things about Infamous is how quickly readers get sucked into its world and invested in its web of characters — be it Orion or Blake or G or Victoria or the slightly controversial Seven. They are all incredibly multi-faceted, complex, and sometimes heartbreakingly real.

Amy says:

“I’ve read something by a writer once that I’ve followed faithfully: you should always know what’s happening in the other room. Even if it won’t be available to readers, it helps establish the world and characters as real, tangible things that don’t just poof out of existence once they walk ‘off-screen’ so to speak.”

Here’s the full interview:

1. What drew you to interactive fiction as a storytelling medium? Did you have any experience writing in other formats before, and if so, would you say there’s any differences in the way writing for IFs should be approached?

There’s so much about writing interactive fiction that I love, but I think the main one is the freedom that comes with it! There are so many ideas I can explore, so many endings and storylines. It’s just as fun for writers as it is for readers to push the limits of what their world and characters can do. You can truly sink your teeth into it and develop the story in ways you don’t see often. 

Coming from writing traditional fiction and having never written an interactive story before, I did need to change my mindset a little. You have to learn to be flexible. Very often, I’m writing routes I wouldn’t particularly take as a reader, and it’s interesting to go against my gut to offer a varied experience. I’ve discovered a lot of fun things about Infamous and its characters from routes I would never take if I were reading it in another IF!

2. What does your writing process look like?

I am a plotter to my core! I am endlessly envious of writers who can pants their way through a scene or a chapter. I need to outline every single beat, every scene, every conversation. The plot comes to me first and then I slowly build the main character around that and ask myself what kind of story I want to tell with that main character.

The MC in Infamous leans heavily into the ‘underdog’ trope. That’s how I got much of MC’s personality from. The main thing I ask myself when building the main character is: what do they have, what do they want, and what do they need? I use that to inform the rest of the cast and the stats. My main goal is that every piece works in tandem with the others. They all make sense in my head! 

3. What does good writing / good characters / good world-building etc. mean to you, and what are some central tenets or principles you follow to achieve that? 

A story that gets me invested is a success in my eyes. I want to care for the characters and feel like the world is one that truly exists somewhere. I’ve read something by a writer once that I’ve followed faithfully: you should always know what’s happening in the other room. Even if it won’t be available to readers, it helps establish the world and characters as real, tangible things that don’t just poof out of existence once they walk ‘off-screen’ so to speak. The characters had lives before the story started, people they knew and things they’ve experienced. It informs their personalities and builds them what they are once you meet them on page.

The world is still turning even while the main character is asleep. Things are still happening everywhere…even when we don’t see it. That’s how I try to approach every story to bring it to life. 

4. What’s one piece of advice you’d give to someone just starting out in interactive fiction?

Be firm! It’s so easy to get swept up in the excitement of having an audience and wanting to keep that audience. It’s not uncommon to make the mistake of overpromising to please every reader. You won’t be able to, trust me! You’ll only write yourself in a corner. It’s healthy to find a good balance between sticking to your gut and accepting/being open to suggestions. 

A tinier one but: know your endings! It’s best to know what you’re writing toward. It’ll be so much easier to stick to the story and avoid meandering through the plot if you know how each route ends. Everything I write is to get to that ending in one way or the other.

5. Where do you find your ideas or inspiration for new stories or mechanics?Where did your story idea originate? Has it strayed far from that concept/evolved during the writing process? 

I guess it’s quite on brand to say that almost every story idea I’ve had came from a song, Infamous included. My head is always thinking of songs as potential needle drops or playlists as movie soundtracks. Infamous in particular, was formed from Brie Larson’s cover of Black Sheep in the Scott Pilgrim movie. It features a Battle of the Bands sequence that made me want to read a story with the same concept. I scoured and scoured for a band IF that scratched that particular itch but didn’t find any. Eventually, I gave in and did it myself! That’s one of the best parts of the community; you can just do it. 

Surprisingly, this is one of the few stories of mine that hasn’t strayed far from the original idea. I think it helps that I’m writing exactly what I wanted to read once upon a time.

End of interview

—

A big thanks once again to Amy for her insightful answers, and @veswrites-if for taking the time to coordinate the interview. Hope that this was a fun and interesting read.

Stay tuned for more of these interviews :)

[amomentsescape]

Hey I love yanderes and slashers and used to have a sleep walking problem where I would try to crawl through windows, can you do a yandere slasher x reader where the reader has developed Stockholm syndrome and been loving to the slasher so they trust them and let them have more freedom. Then they see them try to crawl out a window in their sleep? How would they react? Would they believe the reader? What would make them believe them if they didn't? If they didn't believe them the how would they react to finding out the reader told the truth?

Thank you so much! And merry Christmas! 🎄 🎄🎄🎄🎄🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅

Slashers with Reader Who Sleepwalks & Tries to Leave

Yandere! Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Warnings: Yandere behavior, of course. Mentions of abusive behavior

A/N: Merry (late) Christmas! I hope you all had a great holiday! For this request, I decided to leave Eric out. He's just the complete opposite to a Yandere in my opinion, and it was nearly impossible for me to write him as such. I hope that's okay!

Freddy Krueger

He knows you would never purposefully leave him

Like, he actually knows

His (undead) life revolves around sleep

He knows when you're awake and where you're actually sleeping, even if he keeps you stuck in his dream world

So when he finds you trying to escape out of the little window he built for you, he just laughs

He had already known you sleep walked

He'd been haunting your dreams for weeks prior to actually taking you

Freddy just keeps watching you, not really doing anything about it

You're stuck in his world either way

Might as well see how far you'll go

He'll almost use this as a test of sorts

He'll let you wander to wherever you want to go in your sleep, and he may even change the environment to something you don't recognize

When you wake up, his name better be the first thing that falls from your lips

If it's not...

Well, he'll just have to try harder at getting you to need him

Michael Myers

It took a very long time for Michael to get to this point

The fact that he lets you sleep without chains is a huge decision on his part

He doesn't trust easily

And any feelings of trust he did have come crumbling down the moment he wakes up without you beside him

It didn't take long to find you

There you were, pushing and prodding at the boarded up window

He's truly pissed

And a little hurt

He really thought you were growing to actually like your situation

But when he spins you around and sees your eyes staring blankly through him, he tilts his head

You don't seem... right?

He'll shake you harshly until he sees the life come back to your eyes

When you finally look up at him with a similarly confused look on your face, he starts to realize

He understands you well enough to know when you're not acting like yourself

When he finally explains what you were doing after you repeatedly asked him, you sigh

You explain that sometimes at night, you wander around without realizing it

A sleepwalker, huh?

Sadly, the chains will need to come out again

Jason Voorhees

You wouldn't actually leave him, right?

You seemed so caring

He actually believed you when you said you needed him

But here you were, trying to leave your shared home in the middle of the night

He almost breaks down as he picks you up and takes you back to your room

He finds it a bit odd that you don't fight back at all, but he assumes you just don't care to

He locks you up and makes sure that you can't go anywhere

How could you do this to him?

When you wake up the next morning in chains and not in your shared bed, you begin to cry for Jason

He tries to ignore you, but he can't bring himself to hear your sad voice calling out to him

You try your best to tell him that you don't remember what happened, and that you would never leave him

And maybe he's too trusting, but he believes you

You just seem so sad and so genuine that it's impossible for him to think it's anything other than honesty

You couldn't be that stupid anyways

You'd get lost in those woods alone at night, he knows that

So he just has to believe you

He loves you, and love means trust, right?

Thomas Hewitt

But you were being so sweet to him just hours before

How could you lie to his face like that?

He wakes up without you in his arms, and he just about loses it

Frantically searches for you around the house and finally finds you at one of the nailed in windows

He pulls you away quickly, staring at you sadly

He's waiting for an explanation, but you don't say anything

You just stare

You weren't acting like yourself

He pushes you back towards the bedroom and you walk the rest of the way yourself, climbing back into bed with ease

He's confused, but decides to see if it will happen again

You can't leave anyways

The whole house is locked up, and you don't even know where the keys are

You act just like your normal self the next day

And that night, you're back to walking around with a blank stare

He figures this just might be a thing you do

Doesn't really try to stop you, but he does follow you most nights to make sure you don't accidentally hurt yourself

On nights he wants you in bed, he ties some old fabric around your ankle and holds you tight while you sleep

You might not ever know about your late night adventures unless he decides to tell you

Bubba Sawyer

He's quite literally blubbering to you

He's crying, he's frantic, he even shakes you a bit, and you just stand there not responding

He keeps waiting, and when you start to just wander around again, he loses it

What's wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?

He ties you back into bed and stays up the rest of the night, watching you

The next morning, he confronts you stressfully

You keep telling him over and over that you don't know what he's talking about

But he refuses to believe you

(He wants to believe you, he's just scared)

He only finally realizes you were being honest when in the middle of the day during your nap, he finds you wandering back to the window with his whole family watching you

You weren't stupid

Why would you try to leave when literally everyone could see you in broad daylight?

His family begins laughing and saying things like "looks like you got yourself a sleepwalker"

So you weren't purposefully trying to leave him?

He cries tears of joy and spends the next couple of days pampering you and giving you just about everything you want

He does his best to show you that he's sorry

Brahms Heelshire

It's quite literally known that Brahms has abandonment issues at this point

So when he catches you climbing up onto the window sill

He loses it

Will grab you and roughly pull you off, your body falling to the ground

This immediately wakes you up, your eyes searching around frantically

When you see Brahms standing above you, you try to reach for him, but he only shoves you away

You look so sad and confused at this, but Brahms is too stubborn to give in

He starts tying you up again each night, still very hurt that you would try to leave like that

It takes weeks for you to gain his trust again

And the one night he lets you sleep freely, he catches you by the window again

But instead of grabbing you immediately, he decides to just watch

He wants to see how far you'll go so he knows just how severe your punishment will need to be

But instead, you just give up on unlocking the window (it was jammed), and you just turn around and walk straight back to bed, not even registering Brahms being right there

This is odd

You need to explain the concept of sleepwalking to him the next day

He still remains skeptical for a while, but he'll come around

You just need to be extra attentive for a while...

Norman Bates

Norman already knows a lot about sleepwalking

(It's what he thought was going on for a while when he couldn't remember large chunks of time throughout the week)

When he finds you opening a window in the middle of the night, he bolts at you, ready to lock you back up in one of the motel rooms again

However, when you don't respond or reveal any emotion on your face, he immediately knows what's going on

He's surprised

He didn't know you'd be a sleepwalker

He decides to just lead you back to bed, knowing that waking you isn't the best idea

Sits you down the next morning and talks with you about it

When you seem very apologetic, he uses it to his advantage

Has you cuddle up with him even more than normal and stay by his side at all hours of the day

He still gives you some freedom

But he's always watching

He does take some precautions and ties your wrist up in the middle of the night

He has to, for your safety of course

Billy Loomis

To be honest, you don't make it very far

Billy has an iron grip on you at all times, and he's a light sleeper

The moment you get up, he's awake, observing you carefully

Sometimes you have to pee in the middle of the night, but he still makes sure you aren't lying to him

His ability to trust is practically in the ground

The moment you turn the wrong way, he's up and chasing after you

Were you that dumb? You knew he watched you every time you got up from bed

He grabs your wrist quickly and points a knife at your throat as a threat

He can't bring himself to actually hurt you though, not that you knew that

Or did you?

Because you just stand there not even moving away from the blade

Billy becomes very confused

He takes his hand and begins to wake it in front of your face, looking for some sort of reaction

You don't give him one

Are you still... asleep?

He shakes you a bit until you finally look at him, confusion written all over your face

You're a sleepwalker, aren't you?

He just rolls his eyes annoyed and drags you back to bed, not explaining anything

Just another thing he needs to look out for now

You sometimes wake up to bruises on your hips and waist from how hard Billy holds you in the night, but he's just trying to protect you, right?

He doesn't mean to hurt you, he just refuses to lose another person in his life

Stu Macher

Stu literally sleeps on you, so it's nearly impossible for you to leave the bed most nights

But if you somehow wiggle your way out, you wouldn't make it outside the house

The windows have been nailed so that they only open a small amount

When he finds you the next morning, curled up under a partially opened window, he just smiles

Call it naive, but he just assumes you were getting too warm in the bed

When you wake up in a confused state however, he becomes concerned

What do you mean you don't remember opening that window?

He honestly just becomes more worried that there's something wrong with your memory rather than you trying to leave him

He'll likely talk to Billy about it

He just hears laughter from the other end of the phone

"Sounds like they sleep walk," he'd say

Stu does a bunch of research on it later

He doesn't really mind though

All of the unsafe objects are already hidden away, and every possible exit is locked down

You aren't going anywhere

If anything, he finds it fun to wake up some mornings and look around for you

It's like a game, and Stu loves games

[unluckiestmember]

Hey so I LOVED your X-Men x sweetheart reader and I was wondering if you could do a similar head cannon of X-Men x kind reader but their reaction to you being good with kids. I just feel like they would have various opinions or feeling if they saw you interacting with a child.

Coming right up!

X-Men '97 X Compassionate! Reader

Characters: Nathan Summers/Cable, Scott Summers/Cyclops, Jean Gray, Remy LeBeau/Gambit, Rogue, Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler, Erik Lehnsherr/Magneto, Wanda Maximoff/Scarlet Witch, Pietro Maximoff/Quicksilver, Morph, Logan/Wolverine and Jubilee.

Warning: None. SFW.

A/N: So how did you guys feel about Deadpool and Wolverine?

Cable

“Well would you look at that! Seems someone knows how to get along with the kiddies… Oh don’t mind me, keep playing.”

Cable isn’t used to hanging out with children or being around them due to his workload, but he does enjoy the presence of kids that look up to him. He hasn’t really thought about wanting kids because of his fear that the disaster of a future he’s from would be too harsh for a child to be raised, let alone he is scared that something will happen to them.

However, when he sees you being so compassionate with children, it makes him reconsider a little bit! The sight of you and the kids at the local shelter on his base laughing and playing together makes his heart sour. Whenever he finds himself down in the dumps and needs a good boost or reminder of what he’s fighting for, he will just watch you and the children happily running around and realize why he’s the famous freedom fighter the young ones and yourself admire.

Cyclops

“Huh, you’re a natural at this! Makes me wonder how things would be when you become a parent of your own kid.”

When he sees you taking care of children on and off missions, Scott can’t help but stand and watch you with the biggest smile tugged on his lips. The sight of you all happily living your lives without a care in the world makes him remember the civilians he is fighting for. And more importantly, it makes him think of giving the family thing another shot!

Can you blame him? The way you are with children makes him daydream a perfect life away from the mansion raising a family together and properly being there for your child. Though there is hesitance to it all due to the result of Nathan and his last relationship, if you assure him, then he will definitely try to be a father again. Because with you by his side, can he really fail again?

Jean Gray

“Aww! Are you playing nice? Mind if I join in? I’m sure they would love to see my powers in action.”

Jean has thought of having a family with you when everything is settled down. So before she can have this ideal world of raising a kid with the love of her life, she can get a peek into a potential future in the brief moments of you caring for children, mutant or human. Whenever she sees you taking care of a child, usually during a mission, she will assist you in any way and naturally take up a mother role she’s used to having around the mansion.

The team can always find you two trying to make sad or distraught children on missions turn their frowns upside down with some powers or just speaking to them and making sure they are heard. You and Jean are definitely the go to for young ones, and if you both around children confirms anything, it’s that you two would be great parents someday.

Gambit

“Look at you all go! Mind if Gambit takes a stab at this, mon amour? I’m sure I can win their hearts. I won yours, didn’t I?”

Gambit is used to dealing with the younger folk of the world because of his time around them back home. So when he’s around children, he can easily adapt to them by playing some mindlessly fun games, pulling off tricks with his cards or telling some jokes. That’s not surprising though. What’s really surprising is him finding out you’re a pro when it comes to little kiddies!

When he found out you were a natural, he was beyond impressed by you and even let his mind wonder on a more intimate possible future down the line for the both of you. Around children, he’ll have you both as a package deal with you as the caring caretaker and him as the funny guy who will not hesitate to flirt and send signals your way in front of the kids. With how much he’s flirted with you, the kids always mistake you two for a married couple! A married couple… That doesn’t sound half bad.

Rogue

“You got these kids all excited, running and screaming like a bunch of baby banshees! You’re a natural, babe!”

Rogue wasn’t a big kid person on missions. She simply gets the job done and if there are children that need assistance she leaves it to someone who can be more intimate without fearing they’ll hurt them. She stayed this way until you showed off innocently how well you were with younger civilians.

At first when the mission called for dealing with kids, Rogue watched you from the sideline in silent awe of your tender love and care for children that were distraught or needed a distraction. Yet with time, simply watching you gave her the courage to join in and actually help out by giving out free rides on her back or showing off her immense strength. Together you two are a happy fun couple kids love to be around as much as Rogue just loves being around you. Now whenever there’s a mission with the young ones, she’s more than excited to tag along with you and live in the moment.

Nightcrawler

“May I cut in? I can play a mean game of tag!… Really?! Then round up the kiddies because I’m it!”

Because of Genosha, Nightcralwer is just as good with children as you are! He enjoys his time with the little ones around town or during stakeouts because of how accepting they are of him and how much their laughter fills his heart with joy. Now mix your own laughter in because of your handling with them and the blue devil was sure he was getting a slice of heaven.

The both of you are so well together and with others that the team delegates you both to taking care of the children on missions and making sure they’re okay. Around you both, the kids can expect a bunch of games to be played and a lot of memories to be made. Whenever a mission calls for babysitting, Nightcrawler knows exactly who to call on to assist him in having a little bit of fun on the job!

Magneto

“The future of mutants is bright if you’re around to bring such laughter and happiness.”

Though Erik has children of his own, he’s pretty subpar for a caretaker let alone a babysitter of mutant children. He tries his best of course, but the lack of fatherhood he was allowed made him a bit rough around the edges. Luckily he can depend on you to pick up where he lacks and he thanks you deeply for that.

Everytime he takes a moment to look at you with kids just minding your own business and being giddy without a care in the world, it makes him wonder if he’d be open to trying to raise a family once again. He knows with age and with the weight on his shoulders, it may be harder for him. But if you’re by his side, he wouldn’t mind giving it another try and stepping up to the plate to be a better father than he ever was for Wanda and Pietro.

Morph

“Hey, if the kids want to see a few tricks, send them my way, alright? I can throw them for a loop and think there’s two yous running around!”

Morph is decent with children, but they mainly leave that kind of work to you. When it comes to the more emotional attachment, they need a bit of work on that, but if you’re talking tricks and jokes? Then they are the right person to work with on missions dealing with kids!

They use your connection with children to playfully throw you for a loop by shapeshifting into someone and tricking you a lot just to get some laughter in the air. Most of the time he succeeds but there have been a few times where both of you just team up in some funny interactions that are bound to leave the children happy in your presence. Honestly, Morph wouldn’t care so much, but since you’re around? They don’t know- You just bring out that side of them! And they kind of love it!

Wolverine

“Of course you’d be good with the children, what did I expect?… Don’t mind me, I’m just keeping watch. Have fun.”

Children and Logan don’t mix that well. He just finds it annoying to babysit when he already does that with the teenagers at the mansion. Add that with some crying, whining and begging and he becomes pretty livid. Which is why he doesn’t like missions that deal with kids. That is, unless you’re there to help him out.

He finds your handling of children to not only be a big help for him but also a nice change of pace. It’s adorable seeing how kids easily gravitate towards you and how you let them do whatever they want. Whenever they have you pinned down in a game or surrounded, Logan can’t help but laugh at the cute little ambush before he breaks everything up. He doesn’t like kids and he still can’t stand them. But you make them more bearable, so there’s always that!

Jubilee

“Hey, babe! Send the kids over here- I’m gonna do a mad fireworks show for them!”

Jubilee is, surprisingly enough, really good with kids! She’s a lot like a cool aunt to your nurturing parent bit! She thinks it’s cute that you’re good with children and even compliments you around them when she’s not busy with other kids on a mission. The firecracker can rely on you to assist her or even stop her from making whacky moves that could get some children hurt out of pure excitement.

It’s not hard for everyone to know you two are a couple because of how much she calls you by pet names or makes fireworks that send signals to you if not make some look like you. It’s awfully sweet of her and it makes you comment that not only is she a great girlfriend, but she’d also make a great mom. Though, it’s highly recommended to hold that because if Jubilee hears you speak of motherhood, she’ll cringe at the thought. She likes kids, don’t get her wrong! But she could never be a mom!

If you got any requests for X-Men '97 or Arcane, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

[pricetagged]

fool's gold (pyrite)

Got inspired by gougie's executioner asks and cloth's egging hehe 💖 have some pirate au simon breeding kink~

Content: 18+; breeding kink; dubious consent*; mean Simon; pirates; captured-by-the-crown reader; barest implication of potential soap/reader and future ghoap/reader; POV shift

*in a 'get out of jail' way, so take that how you will.

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

It fluttered in your stomach. A nebulous, squirming little thing.

Not the baby, no. The lie.

You felt it, restless and hot. Kicking your ribs from the inside. It made you flushed, it made you sick-

It bought you at least another few weeks to slip the noose, to slide away in borrowed shoes meant to dance a gallows' jig. Maybe it would buy you more, if the stress held back your monthly the way it often did on the ship. Great, long stretches of time with too much work and not enough food.

You wore the lie like you wore your borrowed clothes, a too-tight bodice and heavy skirts. Impractical, sweet. Modest. A poor little dear caught up and brought low. Fallen woman, sunken to the depths before the law fished her out. 

Your thighs stuck together, warm and bare under the skirts. It was sweltering, damp. Clammy in the cell with its stagnant air and earthy, unfinished floors. The wood of your bench –and bedcot–was warped with age, woodlouse burrowed deep into the pulpy grooves. It was enough to make you shudder, sweat dripping down your spine until it soaked into the cotton of your shift.

It did little to cool you.

Nine months aboard The Watcher had spoiled you, coarse rope and sharp, sea air warping you into something new. Something wilder. It was hardtack and hard work, yes. But it was freedom. To toil under a flag of your choosing, to trust the waves and the Captain to take you to new ports and newer treasures–

You'd left your papa's place with little more than ill-fitting breeches and a pocketed purse. You'd passed the scars on your hands and the patches on your shirt as evidence of experience – hardy little stowaway, aren't ye–. The morals didn't bother you the way stolen scraps didn't bother a dog. Street rat or ship rat; at least this way you could put miles between you and your father. Nautical miles, bobbing away with the wood of the ship's log. You watched it often, knots of rope and grains of sand. Hourglass and paper in hand while you stood on the stern.

It was you who first spotted the English Man O'War, sluicing through waves with colours hoisted high. Three gun-decks, at least, and coming into port.

"–plead the belly–it'll spare ye the choppin' block. Might even get lucky and be sent t' the reformatory– ah heard they do that f'r expectant mothers–" you couldn't quite hear him over the ringing of the cannons and the ringing in your ears.  "–plead the belly, and I'll try tae come back for y–"

They echoed now in your sweltering cell, suspended in the humidity. The boatswain's last words before he was violently wrestled away.

You remembered him as you counted the bars of your cage. Iron-wrought and cruel. As cruel as the chain tethering you to the wall, cold metal biting into your bare ankle.

'–I've got the keys, girlie, if you want freein' from it. Don' have to sit against that wall, all shy. C'mere an' I'll make you a deal–'

You stayed silent, stone-faced. Weathered the taunts and jeers of your gaolers like a battered old rock. The guards took it as arrogance, the other prisoners took it as invite.

The priest took it as shame.

You let them all believe it, lips pressed tight lest you let loose sobs–giggles–something– as days passed and your sentencing drew closer.

You'd heard about him before you saw him. The Ghost. The last face you'd see before facing the faceless. The pitch-black eyes that would watch as you jigged to the jeers of the crowd.

It was the last face you'd see and it was only a mask. More macabre than the usual executioner's hood– a skull motif, bleach-white bones and empty sockets. A nasty minikin mockery of the reaper. It was gristly; it was sick.

But so was he.

A butcher, some said. Fingers caked in blood no matter to which job he attended. A pirate, according to others. One pressed into service, earning his freedom by sending others to the pits. 

And now you heard him for real.

The low, resonant whistle. The heavy tread of his boots.

It had you curling your fingers into your palms, nautical superstitions and fishwives' tales nipping at you like fleas.

–quit yer whistlin', you'll anger the winds and summon a storm–

                                                 –it's good luck, don't worry. It'll make the winds blow strong and steady, you'll see–

–I wouldn't do that if I were you. Cap'n'll think it's code between mutineers–

                                                                                                                                    –taboo–

The whistling stopped, a cheery solitary note wavering in the air before silence. Even the gaoler's dog had scarpered off, keys jingling around its neck until you couldn't even hear the echo.

A gravel-rough voice cut through the swirling tempest of your mind.

"Was told 'got a pregnant little birdie caught in the cage."

That pulled you from your reverie, neck-stiff as you turned towards the voice. It was more of a twitch than a conscious motion, a sudden flaring of deadened synapses as his voice rasped over them. Still, you didn't speak. Didn't even look at him fully, the hulking thing in your peripheral.

It was silent, now. Eerily so, like all the air had been sucked from the prison. Sitting in the eye of the storm, too calm and too quiet. You could hear the drag of his boots as he shifted closer. The rolling clank of iron scraping against itself, your cage creaking open.

The shadow in your peripheral became mass, then man as he stepped closer.

You risked a glance up.

He'd still be large, sturdy, even without you curled up on your dank, spongy bedcot. Tall enough to duck as he sauntered into the cell. Broad enough to block out the flickering oil lamps by the warden's desk. In the lambent glow of dusk it was already dim, hazy with sea-spray and the oppressive heat of wet season. But with him in front of you it was pitch-dark. A pall cast by his sheer size, all light swallowed up until you could just about make out his blurry edges.

The ghostly white of the bones bleached onto his mask moved and his voice rumbled out.

"Well, g'nna show me?"

You stretched out weakened muscles, unfurling as slow as a wind-battered sail. Joints creaked alongside the iron of your shackle, tight from where you'd clenched hard. Dug your blunt little fingernails into the pulpy, malleable fibers of the aged ironwood below you.

Standing was like finding yourself unmoored, sliding off the buoyant driftwood keeping you afloat. Your legs got tangled up in your borrowed clothes, damp petticoats and overskirts clinging as your feet finally touched the straw-strewn earth of the cell floor. It was cumbersome, made more difficult by the sliding of the heavy chain against the bench. You felt the weight around your ankle, anchoring you down.

Though you could barely see it, you felt as he studied you from top-to-toe. Flat, dead eyes followed every curve and dip of your body as you stood before him, your traitorous chest rising and falling in a way that made you grit your teeth. You used that force to steel your jaw, to look straight ahead and keep your arms lax and loose by your side.

Let him look his fill. Let him– your judge, jury and executioner.

He hummed. Circled you like a shark in a balmy waters. It was funny– you'd never felt more exposed than now in all your layers. Not even under the punishing sun in your loose, men's clothes. No, his eyes stripped you bare. More than cotton and linens, he peeled the flesh from bone. Flayed you open, eyes slicing through your skittish guise. Through your rabbity gaze hopping around the walls, the way you tried to arch your back and poke out more of your soft belly.

"You a liar, then?" You could hear the low, mocking note in his voice. "Or got a case of wishful thinkin'?"

That had you looking up, meeting him dead in the eye. Your hands hovered above the slight swell of your stomach, fingers twitching in an abortive gesture–

–you wanted to cradle it, the fluttering in your empty belly. Push down the sick, swirling terror and face the ghost you'd summoned, because you had summoned it–

He grabbed by your wrist, meaty paw pulling you close enough to brush against his expansive chest.

–Hadn't you? Bad luck. Malefic omen, having you on the ship. No prophets, no redheads–

There, in the cradle of his arms, you were frozen. Your wrist felt fragile, bird-like under the firm grip of his thick-knuckled fingers. You weren't weak, you'd rigged topsails in tempest winds with those wrists. But that was then. That was weeks ago, when you were part of a crew on the open seas. Here, it was just you and the beast that had sent stronger than you to their graves. The warnings from persnickety old seadogs tolled death knolls in your mind–

–no women. And now the sea had swallowed you up. Sent you down to the belly of the beast. A Jonah, locked behind something stronger than whalebone. Trapped. Unless–

Wishful thinking.

He chucked at your chin, calloused fingertips arching your head further back until your neck strained. Your heartbeat rushed past your ears, sending your head spinning. Dizzy, docile. An artificial calm; buoyant lifeline in the raging currents. He turned you slightly, left then right. Like he was measuring you up, the line of your throat. The fluttering of your pulse. That treacherous throbbing, sending oxygen to your brain that you were too erethic to feel.

He spoke again, rough and coruscating. You noticed that he didn't blink, just stared down at you. Dead-eyed as a fish, blond lashes spiked around dark irises. He kept you arched, unable to escape as every syllable struck you like a storm. You balanced on bare tip-toes, butterfly-soft fingers spread across his hairy forearm.

"The Beak's happy to let ya swing if it means 'e can catch the rest of y'r crewmates. And, 'round here, the only good pirate is a dead pirate," he must have felt how your fingers tightened, a futile brace against his butal strength and harsh words. "So, I tell him y'r a liar, get paid to do my job, and keep the governor happy."

He shrugged, bulky shoulders popping as he rolled them back. He shrugged like it meant nothing to him, just a matter of fact. The fisherman, fingers deep in guts and gristle. The butcher, hands stained copper and hardened on cannon bone. The executioner, calloused from rope neckties and the deadweight of the condemned–

But you catch the way his eyes follow your flinch. The way his lips move under his mask too as your mouth opens and closes. Hesitant. Dry.

You could only look up at him with wide, naïve eyes, dilating in the dark. The jejune jailbird. Doe-eyed. Caught.

The jig was up.

"Please," the words stuck in your throat, cracking and broken. "Please don't–"

He lets you go. Not a gentle action, no. No careful caress; he lowers you abruptly, chuckles as you scramble to face him. Stunned, you rub at your throat. Still there, still unadorned with the necklace of rope you swear he wants to place there. Coarse twine and hessian brown, constricting tighter until– no. You can't think on it, anathema to the lie you've worked hard to maintain. If he doesn't believe the plea of the belly, you'll– you'll–

You'll make it so.

As he settles his massive frame on the thin, wooden slat against the wall you wonder. Why did he come here in cover of night. Why did he need to see for himself what the priest confirmed as a priori truth? The seal of confession melts away, your moribund admittance flakes and crumbles under his heavy hand. He knows.

Solid legs spread wide, he makes himself comfortable. You follow the bulge of his thighs, easily as thick as your skull–more–, as the bench groans and creaks worse than the brig in a storm.

You worry that it can't handle the weight.

Even sitting, he dwarfs you. Stepping up between his thighs is like willingly stepping off the stern into still waters. It's terrifying, thrilling– your belly swoops and head feels light. You know there must be something lurking in the depths, some undulating hydra ready to slide its malignant limbs around your ankle and wrench you down–

He clamps a filthy boot down over the length of chain across the floor. Keeps you tethered to him, unable to pull back even if you wanted to.

"Clever enough t'come up with the scheme, clever enough t'get out of it." It's an offering, albeit a twisted one. Alms tainted by the greedy slap of his palms against his thighs. Rough, scarred hands frame the growing bulge between his legs.

Even in the dark, you see it. Heavy, perverse, Fattening enough to strain against the seam of his trousers. You can't look away, can't escape the muggy heat in the air and the scorching burn of his eyes on you. Incendiary, it sends heat pooling to your own belly. The damp, stickiness between your thighs seems cool now, sweat superseded by the slick gathering in your core. It's filthy, it's wrong–

It's blazing hot, shame seared away by a want that is not entirely born of desperation.

At first you think it's a tit-for-tat, your mouth stuffed full in exchange for his staying closed. Kneeling before him, you're suddenly grateful for your skirts. Matchsticks of dried straw and dusty smithereens dig into your knees, legs bent awkwardly as he keeps his boot on your chain. He's content to let you paw at him, to tug at the drawstrings and fumble with his waistband as he offers no help.

Eventually, he must grow bored.

"Don' need me to tell ya that's not how it works."

"What–?" He has you frozen, tableau vivant of a wanton grisette. Pupils-blown and lips-parted, you tremble up at him. Try to read the desire that he hides beneath harsh words and heavy breaths.

"Tryin' t'make me a liar, too?" He grunts, brushing aside your confused, hurried protestations. "Gonna make me a liar when I go out'nd tell them there really is a pregnant little birdie caught in the cage?"

He pats at his lap, palming at himself and hissing through his teeth. Sound is muffled by that grotesque mask, but you catch it all the same. Every flash of the man beneath– of the desire wrought by your artless, ingenue fumblings– sends you reeling. You are not a creature of flesh and blood, not when both are fever-hot and itching. You can't breathe in your body under sweltering layers and sultry air. And he can sense it, too. The beast you let into your cage, bars bending as easily as your will to his.

And, through messily-tugged drawstrings, you see it. Tugged through the opening you'd hastily torn open. The thick, ruddy head of his cock is already leaking.

And as you slide into his lap, it all slides into place.

You think of– no, not now. You can't think of him now. When he comes back for you, if it takes, you could pass the baby off as his. He was sweet on you, you know it. A breezy, comfortable kind of affection. Small, just barely burgeoning but still there. He's a good man– You'll claim that you were telling the truth at your capture– that you and he already– He's a decent man– maybe you wouldn't even have to lie. He'd take you in, little stray and the seed that kept her off the scaffold–

Thoughts slip away, sea spray in the wind, as you work yourself open in his lap. You're drenched beneath your skirts, slick running down your thighs and into his. You're spread so wide across him that it burns, pinned open by his bulk. You can feel the power of his frame, coiled muscle holding you up from the worn wooden bench. The soft pudge of his belly presses into yours as you lean forward, shakily lining up with the swollen head of his cock.

It's already weeping, thick globs of his slick mingle with yours as he slides between your folds. Like he can't wait to be inside you, leaking his spend at the barest touch of your cunt. Like he can't wait to put it inside you, to make good on his word and yours and put a baby there.

You shiver, biting back a gasp as he nudges the aching pearl at the apex of your thighs. His chuckle rumbles through his hulking chest into yours. It jostles you, hitching you just right over his length until it notches against you. You press down, hole clenching against the initial pain, until you feel the throb of his slit inside. It's deep, sending your back arching as you grip his shoulders with white knuckles. And there's still more–

"Tha's it, tha's it, birdie," his voice is impossibly thicker, desire dragging it down until he growls at you. "Gonna have t'take more, gotta make it all fit if you want this baby–"

"Yes, yes, please," you babble at him. Voice high, whines catching on every breath you work yourself lower. You can feel him in your stomach, every inch sending sparks dancing along your spine until they're all you can see when you close your eyes. The sparks, and the spectral imprint of his ghostly mask.

He grunts below you, swallowing back groans behind a jaw that you know is clenched tight. Avaricious brute, he needs you closer. Hands that were meant to measure you for the drop dig into your hips, working you lower and lower. He forces you down to the root, bare thighs on hessian cloth, until you cry out. Shaking at the spread– the stretch– you pant in his ear. Hot little breaths, heady against the crook of his neck.

You can hear it, the obscene squelch of your greedy cunt. The creaking of the bench beneath you as you ride him with shaking legs, chasing pleasure that's already beginning to pool in your belly. You feel heavy with it, moaning behind your clenched fist. Through bleary eyes you catch his, cimmerian and heavy-lidded. His head is thrown back against the wall, guttural filth spilling as he waits for you to come undone.

"Want it, don't ya? Want my baby so fuckin' bad, just look at ya," he growls it, frothing with a hunger so biting it reads as rage. "I'll put one in ya, keep you stuffed full. Keep this chain around y'r ankle, too, keep you shackled to me–"

Eyes-watering as you lose yourself in it. In the sounds that that send blood rushing to your head, the deep ache in your core, the desperation– make him come, make him come, want to come, need to come–

---------

At first, he was happy to watch you. To sit back and watch you work yourself up, to perform for him until he sees you drop the mask. You wear the mantle of captive soubrette so well, sweat-damp petticoats clinging to curves that he wants to trace with his tongue. With his teeth. He saw the craft in your sweet, open face. You're a flighty thing, aren't you? Trying to slip the noose and slip past him. Luckily his grasp is strong.

He saw the scheme slip away as he got you speared open on his length. He can see it in your eyes, feels the way you suck him in–. You're dripping down into his breeches, sloppy and squeezing him so tight. Desperate, wanton little naiad. Riding hard like your life depends on it. He huffs out a laugh as he squeezes you tight, rough fingers digging into peach-soft flesh.

He doesn't tell you that you're already free, that the Royal Navy is already in hot pursuit of The Watcher and the pregnant, little skivvy is of as much importance to them as the ship's rats. No, you're a nuisance they're willing to hand off to him. Too big, too blunt, too bloody to find a respectable wife.

(There was a time, once, when he had no need of such comforts. Lieutenant aboard The Larimar's Revenge, he'd docked in many-a-port. But he'd always come back to those blue eyes. The haircut that had even the natives of Port Royal looking twice– Cheeky, cocksure pirate.

He'd thought about him, sometimes. On that godforsaken island with just a pistol and one shot for company. 'Mutineer', he was branded. Traitor to King and Crown. Lower than scum, not worth even a keelhaul. But not even grapeshot can kill a ghost–) 

He feels you reaching your end, thighs trembling from more than just exertion. His mask is damp, sultry air mixing with your musk into something that scatters his desultory thoughts. His belly tightens as he feels you clamping down, whining behind the knuckles you’ve got stuffed between your teeth.

When you're home, together in his bed, he'll bite down on those knuckles. Show you what real toothprints look like. Or maybe he'll let you slip his hand into your mouth instead. Let you whet your blunt little teeth on something with more gristle. His appetite for you cannot be satiated on mere flesh. He's got to pierce you, taste you, feel you from the inside and leave a part of himself there–

For now, he holds you down. Forces you to ride out the wave of pleasure-pain as he sets his own pace. Your thighs tremble, whole body seizing around him. He can feel the fluttering in your cunt, the way you shudder and drip until his cock is soaked and his coarse hair turns sticky with your release.

He ignores your whisper of another man's name– John, or Johnny, it's hard to catch with the way you swallow your whimper–it doesn’t matter. Not when he's the one pumping you full of his spend. His belly clenches hard, balls tight and heavy with the come he's going to give you. Going to force it in, plant his baby in you and still leave thick, white, globs leaking out of your poor, abused hole.

He's filled you up, is going to fill you up again. He'll take you back to his house and do it as many times as he wants. Make you grateful for it, for saving your life and giving you the baby you’ve been begging for. Keep you stuffed so full of him that the only name he'll hear from you is 'Simon'.

(And if you help lure Johnny back, well. It's been a long time, but good dogs come home when called.)

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

Well, there is it. Shoutout to my beloved stelle and woolie for listening to me whine about pirate ship names 💖💖💖

[elikajinnie]

Was I Just A Bet? - P.J

P: Gryffindor!Jay X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Misunderstandings, Hurt/Comfort, Feelings Realization.

Synopsis: At Hogwarts, you built a reputation for rejecting every romantic advance. Jay, a popular Gryffindor, asks you out on a dare.

masterlist

--

Ever since you were a child, you watched people fall in love—the way their eyes lit up around each other, the way they cared deeply, selflessly, doing anything to make the other happy. It was something you had always longed to feel for yourself. You wanted to experience love, to be someone's first thought in the morning and last before they drifted off to sleep. But as you grew older, no one ever stirred that feeling in you. You waited, hoped, but there was never anyone who made you feel truly seen, let alone loved. And with each passing year, the frustration built.

Eventually, you had enough.

You decided to renounce love, at least from any guy. "It’ll be better this way," you told yourself, over and over again, a mantra each time you passed a couple in the streets or saw friends paired off, hand in hand. Love wasn’t for you, and that was fine. There were other things to focus on, more important things.

Then, the day your Hogwarts acceptance letter arrived, you had allowed yourself to hope. Maybe here, in this world of magic, you could find your place. You could study, make a few friends, and graduate without the complications of love, without boys breaking your heart. It seemed like a simple enough plan.

But life had other plans for you.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

During your first few years at Hogwarts, you built yourself a reputation without even meaning to. Word spread quickly that you were untouchable when it came to romance. Your focus was on magic, your friends, and your studies—nothing else. You rejected every boy who tried to ask you out, and there were more than a few. Some asked you shyly, others with confidence, but your answer was always the same.

“No, I’m not interested.”

At first, your friends teased you about it, telling you to loosen up, to have some fun. But they didn’t understand. You weren’t interested in getting hurt, in wasting time on something that, in your eyes, had become trivial. You had seen enough of your classmates go through the highs and lows of relationships, and none of it appealed to you.

The rejections continued throughout your years. Some boys were persistent, believing they could be the one to change your mind.

They weren’t. Over time, people began to accept it. The offers stopped coming, and with them, the whispers about who might try next.

Your reputation solidified. You were the girl who didn’t date. The girl who couldn’t be won over. To some, that made you a mystery, an unattainable challenge. To others, it made you intimidating. Either way, it didn’t bother you. In fact, it gave you the freedom you’d always wanted. No more awkward conversations, no more rejecting people’s advances. You could focus on what really mattered: honing your magic, learning every spell and potion with a precision that set you apart.

But even as the castle echoed with rumors of your romantic disinterest, you couldn’t escape the moments that gnawed at the edges of your resolve. The fleeting glances in the Great Hall, the flutter in your chest when someone smiled at you just the right way—moments you forced yourself to bury.

By fifth year, no one bothered asking you out anymore.

And yet, despite the peace that should have brought, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. That even though you’d built this wall around yourself, there was a part of you that wondered what it would be like to let someone in.

It crept in late at night when the castle was quiet, and the fire in the common room flickered softly in the hearth. You’d sit by the window, watching the stars, your friends laughing in the background, and you’d wonder. Wonder what it would feel like to hold someone’s hand, to have someone look at you like you were their whole world, to be vulnerable with someone and not feel like you were losing control.

You always pushed the thoughts away, focusing on your studies or your friends, but the feeling lingered like a shadow. The life you'd crafted for yourself was solid, predictable, but there were cracks. You could feel them. And with every passing day, that nagging voice in the back of your mind grew louder, asking the same question over and over again:

What if you were wrong?

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were sitting in the Great Hall, laughing with your friends about something silly that happened in class earlier. The chatter of students filled the air, the clinking of cutlery and the low hum of conversation creating the familiar buzz of Hogwarts. You were completely unaware of the conversation taking place just a few seats down, a group of Gryffindor boys exchanging glances in hushed tones.

"I don't know what to do anymore, man. She won't go out with me," one of them, named Lucas, muttered in frustration, poking at his plate. His friends looked at him with a mix of amusement and pity.

"Maybe she just ain't interested," another, Kieran, said with a shrug, clearly stating the obvious.

"Nah, that's impossible. Who wouldn’t date me?" Lucas scoffed, running a hand through his hair like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

"Many people," a quieter voice added dryly, smirking. "Like her." He discreetly pointed in your direction.

You were oblivious, too caught up in the banter with your friends, smiling as you dipped a piece of toast into your soup. But the boys had their attention on you now, casting brief glances toward your end of the table.

“Bet she’ll date by the end of this year,” Kieran said suddenly, breaking the tension.

The others turned to him, eyebrows raised in surprise. “What?”

“I’m just saying," he continued. "No one stays single forever. Bet someone could get her to go out by the end of this year."

A third boy, Jungwon, shook his head firmly. “Guys, no. We’re not doing anything stupid. You know what they say about messing with people like that.”

"Yeah, don't be thick. We’re not pulling some sort of prank on her,” Kieran replied saracastically, though his eyes glimmered with a hint of mischief.

But Lucas, still stuck on his own bruised ego, leaned back in his seat and raised an eyebrow. “Okay, but let’s be real. Which of us would she even accept?”

There was a pause, and the group collectively turned thoughtful. No one spoke for a beat, as if they were sizing each other up. Then one of them muttered under his breath, almost as if he didn’t mean for anyone to hear: “Jay?”

All of their heads turned in unison to look at Jay, a quiet but undeniably popular Gryffindor, who was currently sitting across from them, completely absorbed in his meal. He had been oblivious to their entire conversation, minding his own business as he ate.

Jay had always been different from the others. Where the rest were loud and reckless, he was calm and thoughtful, the kind of person who didn’t seek attention but always managed to get it anyway. His sharp features and easy smile didn’t hurt either, making him someone who easily caught people’s eye, whether they wanted to admit it or not.

Kieran nudged Lucas. “You think he’d have a chance?”

“Maybe,” Lucas said, leaning forward. “He’s the only one who hasn’t tried.”

Jungwon rolled his eyes. “Because Jay isn’t stupid. He’s not going to go along with this.”

Before any of them could say more, Jay finally noticed the attention. He looked up from his plate, fork still in hand. “What?” he asked, sounding more curious than annoyed.

The others exchanged glances, unsure how to even start explaining what they had been discussing. Kieran, never one to shy away from a challenge, decided to go for it.

“We were just… talking about how you’re probably the only one who could get her to go out with someone,” he said, jerking his head toward your end of the table.

Jay followed the gesture, his eyes landing on you for the briefest moment before flicking back to his friends. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said flatly, turning back to his food.

Lucas leaned in, lowering his voice. “No, seriously. She’s turned down everyone. But you’re different. I bet you could—”

“Stop right there,” Jay interrupted, his tone now clearly annoyed. He put down his fork, his usually calm expression replaced with a frown. “You guys need to stop treating her like some kind of prize to be won. She’s not interested, end of story.”

The group fell silent, awkwardness settling between them. Even Jungwon seemed to agree with Jay’s sentiment, nodding slightly.

But Kieran, never one to back down easily, leaned back in his chair, smirking slightly. “What if she was interested in you though? Would you give it a shot?”

Jay hesitated for the briefest moment, his eyes flicking back to you once more. But instead of answering, he grabbed his bag and stood up. “I’ve got better things to do than play these kinds of games,” he said, and with that, he walked away, leaving his friends to stew in their own thoughts.

Unbeknownst to you, a ripple of tension had settled between the boys. But Jay’s words stuck with them, even after he’d left.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

The boys didn’t let it go.

The next few days, every chance they got, they found a way to bring you up in conversation with Jay. It was subtle at first—side comments, casual jokes—but when Jay continued to ignore them, they ramped it up.

"Come on, Jay, just ask her," Lucas said one afternoon while they were lounging in the common room. He had a tone of desperation in his voice, like this whole thing was his last shot at redeeming his bruised ego.

Jay barely glanced up from the book he was reading. "I told you, I'm not interested. Find someone else to mess with."

"She’s not gonna say yes to any of us," Kieran added, flopping onto the couch across from Jay. "But you? You've got a chance, man."

Jay sighed, snapping the book shut and fixing them with an exasperated look. "I’m not asking her out for you guys. What are you even trying to prove?"

The group exchanged glances. There was a beat of silence before Lucas blurted out, "Okay, fine. We made a bet. Happy now?"

Jay raised an eyebrow, looking unimpressed. "A bet."

"Yeah," Kieran continued. "That someone could get her to go out with them by the end of the year. And look, if you do this, we’ll—" He paused, clearly trying to think of an enticing offer. "We’ll do anything. Name it, and it’s yours."

"Anything?" Jay asked, skeptical.

"Anything," Lucas confirmed quickly, leaning forward. "You want help with Quidditch practice? Done. Extra study notes for exams? You got it. Just name it."

Jay leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, watching them with growing amusement. "And what do you get out of it, besides winning a stupid bet?"

Kieran smirked. "Bragging rights, mostly. And maybe the satisfaction of knowing we finally figured out what she wants."

Lucas nodded. "And we’ll stop bugging you about it."

Jay let out a short laugh. "This is ridiculous. You realize that, right?"

Jungwon, who had been quiet for most of the conversation, finally chimed in. "It’s not like we’re asking you to date her. Just ask her out once, see what happens. You don’t even have to mean it. We just—" He shrugged. "We want to see if she’ll say yes to anyone."

Jay's expression shifted, his initial irritation fading as he considered their offer. There was no denying it—he could get almost anything he wanted out of this. And truthfully, he was curious. He’d never thought about you in that way, but the way the others talked about you, with that mix of fascination and frustration, made him wonder. You were untouchable to them, this mystery they couldn’t figure out. And as much as he hated the idea of using someone to win a bet, part of him was intrigued by the challenge.

"Anything, huh?" Jay repeated, making them all sit up a little straighter.

"Anything," Lucas echoed eagerly.

Jay was quiet for a moment, then finally, with a resigned sigh, he nodded. "Fine. But I’m not doing this for your bet. You guys owe me—big time."

Lucas grinned, slapping Kieran on the back. "Done. Whatever you want, mate."

Jay rolled his eyes, already regretting his decision. He wasn’t one to play games like this, but if getting them off his back meant asking you out once, it couldn’t be that bad, right? He just had to approach you, see what happened, and that would be the end of it. Simple.

But something about it felt anything but simple. You weren’t just some random girl, after all. You were smart, independent, and completely uninterested in dating. You had turned down every guy who had approached you, without even a second thought. And while the others were too focused on their bruised egos to see it, Jay could sense that there was more to your refusal than what met the eye.

As the group dispersed, leaving Jay alone with his thoughts, he found himself wondering—if he did ask you out, how would you respond? Would you see right through him, knowing it wasn’t genuine? Or would you surprise everyone, including him?

One way or another, he was about to find out.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

The days following their agreement were relentless. The boys wouldn’t let up, bugging Jay every chance they got about asking you out. Every time they passed him in the hall or caught him during meals, they’d throw out some comment about “the bet” or nudge him about “getting it over with.”

“You haven’t done it yet, right?” Lucas would say, leaning in with that expectant smirk.

“C’mon, it’s not that hard. Just ask her,” Kieran would add, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

Jay did his best to brush them off, but eventually, it became clear that they wouldn’t stop until he went through with it. He wasn’t sure why he was so hesitant. Maybe it was the way they were treating it like a game, or maybe it was because you were different from the others they’d approached before. But either way, Jay knew he had to get it over with.

Then, one afternoon, the golden moment came. You were sitting by yourself in the courtyard, your bag leaning against the stone wall as you flipped through a book, your focus entirely on whatever you were reading. Jay, spotting his chance, took a deep breath and walked toward you, trying to push aside the strange nerves building in his chest. He wasn’t usually nervous around people, least of all girls, but something about this felt different. Maybe it was because he knew you wouldn’t be easily impressed. Maybe it was because, despite his intentions, he was genuinely curious about what you’d say.

As he approached, you looked up, your gaze meeting his. He saw a flicker of surprise cross your face, probably because you weren’t used to him talking to you. For a brief moment, Jay hesitated, but then he forced himself to speak.

“Hey,” he said casually, shoving his hands into his pockets.

You raised an eyebrow. “Hey.”

He could feel the weight of your stare, sizing him up in that same quiet, thoughtful way you always had. Jay wasn’t like the others who had come to you with grand gestures or awkward flattery. He didn’t try to impress you with rehearsed lines. Instead, he simply looked at you and said, “I know this is probably not your thing, but I was wondering if you’d want to go out sometime. Just… I don’t know, grab a butterbeer or something?”

For a moment, you didn’t respond. You just looked at him, your gaze steady, but Jay could tell you were actually thinking about it. You didn’t reject him immediately like you had with the others. There was something in the way your eyes flickered over him—taking in his composed, relaxed posture, the sincerity in his voice. It caught you off guard, maybe because he hadn’t come across as desperate or pushy. He was just… asking.

But eventually, after what felt like an eternity, you shook your head softly, a small, almost apologetic smile on your lips. “Sorry, Jay. I don’t really do the whole dating thing.”

Jay wasn’t surprised, but something in the way you said it made him feel like it wasn’t as easy for you to reject him as it had been with the others. There was a pause, and then you added, “But… thanks for asking.”

He shrugged, offering a half-smile. “No worries. Figured I’d give it a shot.”

And with that, he walked away, no drama, no hard feelings. He didn’t seem upset, just accepting. But as he left, you found yourself watching him go, your thoughts lingering on him longer than you expected. Jay was different from the others. He hadn’t made you feel pressured or uncomfortable. And while you had rejected him, part of you wondered if it might have been a mistake. You watched him until he disappeared from sight, a thoughtful look crossing your face.

When Jay finally returned to his friends, Lucas and Kieran were waiting, their eyes lighting up with anticipation. “Well?” Lucas asked, leaning forward. “How’d it go?”

Jay shrugged, sitting down on the bench beside them. “She said no.”

“That’s it?” Kieran frowned, like he couldn’t believe it was that simple. “You just walked away?”

“What else was I supposed to do?” Jay shot back, his voice calm but firm. “I asked, she answered. End of story.”

But his friends weren’t satisfied with that. Over the next few days, they kept at him, pushing him to try again. “Come on, Jay. You can’t just give up like that,” Lucas would say. “You’ve gotta try harder. She didn’t outright reject you, right? There’s a chance.”

Kieran would join in too, nudging Jay with a grin. “Maybe she’s just playing hard to get. One more try, and I bet she’ll say yes.”

Jay, however, had had enough. He shook his head every time, rejecting their ideas. “I did what I promised,” he said firmly. “I’m not doing it again. It’s done.”

But something had changed. Even though Jay refused to entertain their pestering, he couldn’t help but keep an eye on you more than before. He didn’t know why, but he found himself watching you when you were in the common room or when you passed by in the halls. He wasn’t interested in winning any stupid bet anymore, but there was something about you that had stuck with him.

You were different from what he had expected—stronger, more thoughtful. And now, every time he saw you, he couldn’t help but wonder what was really going on behind those quiet, steady eyes.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

It happened so quickly that you barely had time to process it. One minute you were walking down the corridor, minding your own business, and the next thing you knew, a strong gust of wind rushed behind you, practically shoving you into an empty classroom. The door slammed shut behind you with an unsettling finality.

You spun around, eyes wide, reaching for the handle, only to find it locked tight. Panic briefly flared in your chest, and you tried again, jiggling the handle harder this time. It wouldn’t budge.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath, giving the door one last shove before finally stepping back. That was when you noticed you weren’t alone.

Jay stood at the other end of the room, frozen in place, staring at you with wide eyes. He looked just as surprised as you were, a book in his hand and several parchment scrolls spread out across a desk near him. It was clear he hadn’t expected this any more than you had.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, still trying to wrap your head around the situation.

“I—uh—was just helping Professor Flitwick with some charms work,” Jay stammered, glancing around the room as if trying to figure out how you’d both ended up in this position. His brows furrowed, and he took a few cautious steps toward the door. “Did someone lock us in?”

You crossed your arms, sighing. “It feels like it.”

Jay tried the door, tugging at the handle with just as much frustration as you had, but it didn’t budge. After a minute, he gave up, turning to look at you with a resigned expression. “I guess we’re stuck.”

There was a beat of silence as the reality of the situation set in. There was no getting out anytime soon, and the room was completely empty except for the two of you. With a sigh, you walked over to one of the desks and sat down, resting your arms on the surface. Jay hesitated for a moment before following suit, taking the seat across from you.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The room was filled with silence, punctuated only by the faint sounds of the castle’s distant creaks and murmurs. Jay shifted awkwardly in his seat, glancing at you occasionally, while you stared at the desk, trying to figure out how to handle this.

Then, after what felt like forever, Jay cleared his throat. “So… this is awkward.”

You snorted despite yourself, glancing up at him. “Yeah, you could say that.”

There was a brief pause, and then Jay spoke again, more softly this time. “Look, I didn’t ask for this, and I’m guessing you didn’t either. But since we’re stuck here… maybe we could just talk?”

You raised an eyebrow, unsure whether to humor him. But something in Jay’s expression—his genuine attempt to break the tension—made you decide to give it a shot. After all, it wasn’t like you had anything better to do.

“Alright,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “What do you want to talk about?”

Jay smiled, relieved, and for the first time since you’d met him, you saw a spark of warmth behind his usual laid-back demeanor. “Honestly, anything. You know, I don’t think we’ve ever actually talked before. Like, really talked.”

You shrugged, giving him a slight smile. “Not much of a talker, I guess.”

Jay chuckled, nodding. “Fair enough. But I’m curious. You’re always so put together, like nothing rattles you. How do you manage that? Doesn’t anything ever get to you?”

You blinked, surprised by the question. No one had ever really asked you that before. And certainly not with the kind of sincerity Jay was showing now. For a moment, you considered giving a vague, dismissive answer, but something about the quiet intimacy of the room made you feel like it was okay to let your guard down, just a little.

“I guess… I’ve learned not to let things get to me,” you said slowly. “People expect a lot, you know? So, I just stopped caring what they thought.”

Jay nodded thoughtfully, leaning his elbows on the desk as he listened. “That makes sense. But it’s gotta be exhausting sometimes, right? Keeping that wall up.”

You hesitated, glancing down at your hands. “Yeah… sometimes.”

You were quiet for a while after that, but the tension had eased. Jay wasn’t trying to pry, and you appreciated that. The conversation shifted into lighter topics, and soon enough, you found yourself laughing at one of Jay’s stories about a disastrous Quidditch practice that had gone hilariously wrong. It was easy, natural. He wasn’t trying to impress you; he was just… being himself. And you realized, much to your surprise, that you actually enjoyed talking to him.

The laughter died down, leaving a comfortable silence in its wake. Jay leaned back in his chair, a soft smile still lingering on his lips. And then, without warning, he looked at you with a seriousness that hadn’t been there before.

“You know, I wasn’t going to bring this up again,” Jay began, his voice quiet, “but since we’re stuck here, and you don’t seem to hate me…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly before meeting your eyes. “What if I asked you out again? For real this time. No bets, no pressure. Just… a date. What would you say?”

You could feel your heart racing in your chest as you considered his offer. Part of you wanted to retreat, to protect yourself like you always had. But another part—the part that had been curious about Jay ever since that first conversation—was tired of being so guarded.

So, after a long moment, you took a deep breath and did something you hadn’t done in years.

You smiled at him, genuinely, and nodded. “Okay. I’ll go on a date with you.”

Jay blinked in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected you to say yes, but then his expression softened into a warm, almost disbelieving smile. “Really?”

“Really,” you confirmed, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nervousness.

And just like that, for the first time since you were a child, you allowed yourself to step out from behind the walls you’d built. You didn’t know what would come next, but for the first time in a long time, you were ready to find out.

The conversation between you and Jay eventually faded into a comfortable silence, but the reality of your situation remained—you were still locked in the classroom. That is, until Jay suddenly sat up straight.

"Wait," he said, his face lighting up with realization, "I have my wand."

You blinked at him, momentarily stunned by how obvious the solution was. "You’ve had it this whole time?"

Jay rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, pulling his wand out of his pocket. "Yeah… sorry about that."

With a flick of his wrist and a muttered charm, the door clicked open. You stood up, crossing the room toward the door, but something caught your eye near the floor—your own wand, lying forgotten. You must have dropped it when you’d been shoved into the classroom. Picking it up, you felt a wave of relief wash over you.

“Nice work,” you said, flashing Jay a teasing grin as you stepped into the corridor. The castle was quiet now, most students in their common rooms or already asleep.

Jay walked out after you, looking a little embarrassed but smiling nonetheless. “I’ll do better next time.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Next time?”

Jay’s eyes widened, but he quickly recovered. “I mean… for the date. If that still stands.”

You found yourself smiling again, that rare, genuine smile you hadn’t used much in recent years. “Yeah, it still stands. We’re still on for butterbeer.”

Jay grinned, and for a moment, he looked more relieved than anything. “How about next weekend? Hogsmeade?”

You nodded. “Sounds good. The Three Broomsticks?”

“Yeah, perfect,” Jay said, his smile growing wider.

There was a brief pause as you both stood there, not quite knowing how to end the conversation, but eventually, you gave him a small wave. “See you then.”

“See you,” Jay replied, his voice carrying a hint of excitement as he turned and walked down the corridor, disappearing around the corner.

When Jay finally found his friends, they were sprawled out in the common room, looking like they were waiting for him. As soon as he stepped in, they all jumped up, expectant looks on their faces.

“Well?” Kieran asked, barely able to contain his excitement. “What happened?”

Jay leaned against the wall, a small, satisfied smirk on his face. “She said yes.”

The room erupted into chaos. Lucas threw his arms up in victory, and Kieran did a little celebratory dance. Jungwon clapped him on the back, grinning like mad.

“I knew it!” Kieran shouted. “I knew she’d say yes eventually!”

“Best day ever!” Lucas added, punching the air. “Jay, you’re a legend!”

Jay rolled his eyes, but there was no denying the grin on his face. Still, he held up a hand to quiet them down. “Alright, alright, keep it down. Let’s not make a big deal out of it.”

Kieran, who was practically bouncing on his feet, looked confused. “Wait, why? This is huge!”

Jay’s expression softened slightly. “I don’t want to mess this up. I don’t want her to think it’s some big joke, alright? So, let’s keep it quiet.”

Lucas and Kieran exchanged glances before nodding. They owed Jay that much—after all, they’d bugged him relentlessly, and he’d finally succeeded.

“Fine, fine,” Kieran agreed, still grinning. “We’ll keep it quiet.”

Jungwon gave Jay a more serious nod of approval. “Good call, man. Don’t worry, we won’t mess it up for you.”

Back in your own dormitory, things went down a little differently.

As soon as you told your friends about the date, they exploded into a frenzy of squealing and excited chatter. You hadn’t even finished the sentence before one of them screamed.

“Wait, you said yes?!” your friend Eliza shrieked, her eyes wide with disbelief.

You nodded, watching as the other girls jumped up from their beds, surrounding you with beaming smiles.

“I can’t believe it!” Hannah exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “We thought you’d never say yes to anyone!”

Another friend, Layla, stared at you in shock. “You rejected Jay the first time, though. What changed?”

You shrugged, feeling a little overwhelmed by their excitement. “I guess… I realized he’s different from the others. He wasn’t just trying to ask me out because of some dare or whatever. He actually seems to care.”

Hannah squealed again, nearly jumping up and down. “This is amazing! You’re going to have so much fun.”

Eliza grabbed your hand, shaking it as if the excitement was too much to contain. “This is huge! You have to tell us everything afterward, okay? Every detail!”

You chuckled softly, feeling a little embarrassed by all the attention. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll tell you. But it’s just a date. No big deal.”

Layla shook her head, still smiling. “Are you kidding? It’s a huge deal! You’ve been saying no to everyone for years. This is… this is a breakthrough!”

The room buzzed with happiness, and while you didn’t say much more, you let them have their moment. They were excited for you, and deep down, you were starting to feel the same.

For the first time in a long time, you had let someone in, and instead of feeling vulnerable, you felt something else—something almost thrilling.

And as your friends squealed and planned outfits for your upcoming date, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

Maybe, just maybe, letting someone in wasn’t so bad after all.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

The news of your date with Jay spread faster than a wildfire through Hogwarts, much to your dismay. You had hoped it would stay between your close circle of friends and his, but that was clearly wishful thinking. By the time Monday rolled around, whispers followed you down the corridors.

People were talking—about you.

“Did you hear she went out with Jay?”

“She said yes? After rejecting everyone for years?”

“I thought she wasn’t into anyone… Guess Jay must be something special.”

You ignored most of it, focusing on your classes and trying not to let it bother you. It wasn’t like you hadn’t dealt with attention before, but this felt different. Now, instead of just admiring glances or half-hearted attempts to ask you out, people were actually speculating about your private life, and it was unsettling.

It didn’t help that some of the guys you’d turned down in the past were less than pleased to hear about your date with Jay.

One afternoon, as you were making your way to the library, you felt eyes on you again. It was a group of boys, some of whom you had rejected before. They were leaning against the stone walls in the corridor, their voices low but clearly directed at you as you passed by.

“Well, look who it is,” one of them muttered, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Guess she’s not as untouchable as we thought.”

You kept walking, trying to ignore them, but another voice piped up. “Yeah, I thought you weren’t into anyone. What, Jay’s better than us now?”

That made you stop. You turned to face them, your heart pounding in your chest. “It’s not like that,” you started, trying to stay calm. “Jay—he’s just…”

But before you could finish, one of the boys, a Slytherin you’d turned down last year, stepped forward with a sneer. “What’s so special about him, huh? You rejected everyone else, but he gets a free pass?”

You felt a flare of irritation rising in your chest. “This isn’t any of your business,” you said sharply. “I can go out with whoever I want.”

The Slytherin smirked, crossing his arms. “Yeah, we get that, but don’t pretend like you’re above us just because you finally said yes to someone. It’s a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”

Your stomach twisted with frustration, and you took a step back, wishing more than anything that you hadn’t stopped in the first place. Just as things started to escalate, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

“Is there a problem here?”

You turned to see Jay walking toward you, his expression calm but his eyes sharp as he glanced at the group of boys. The shift in the air was immediate. The guys who had been giving you a hard time suddenly seemed less confident, their smirks fading as Jay approached.

“Jay,” the Slytherin started, his voice faltering slightly, “we were just—”

“You were just what?” Jay interrupted, his tone steady but firm. He stepped closer, standing beside you in a way that felt protective. “Trying to make her feel uncomfortable? Or are you upset because she didn’t say yes to you?”

The boy opened his mouth to retort but quickly closed it, looking flustered. His friends were already backing away, clearly not wanting to get involved now that Jay was there.

“No, man, we were just talking,” another one muttered, shrugging as if the whole thing had been a misunderstanding.

Jay didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he turned to you and gave you a reassuring look. “You alright?”

You nodded, still a little shaken but grateful for his timing. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Good.” Jay looked back at the group of boys, his expression unreadable. “I think we’re done here, don’t you?”

Without another word, the boys scattered, disappearing down the hall without so much as a backward glance. The tension in the air lifted, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Jay turned back to you, his demeanor softening. “Sorry about that,” he said quietly. “You okay? I didn’t mean to jump in like that, but it looked like they were giving you a hard time.”

You managed a small smile, feeling a surge of appreciation for him. “No, I’m glad you did. Thanks.”

He gave you a nod, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he spoke again. “Look, if anyone gives you trouble about us, let me know, alright? I don’t want you to feel like you have to deal with that on your own.”

There was something in his tone—genuine concern, not just for the situation but for you. It made your chest tighten in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “I will,” you promised. “Thanks, Jay. Really.”

He flashed you a small smile, the kind that made your heart skip just a little. “Anytime.”

With that, Jay walked you to the library, the earlier confrontation already feeling like a distant memory. You couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of comfort in his presence, like maybe—just maybe—letting someone in wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

As you parted ways, you found yourself thinking about how easy it had been to accept his help. You’d spent so long keeping your walls up, but with Jay, things felt different. Natural.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

As the weeks passed, the dates with Jay became something you looked forward to—no longer something to be nervous about, but a time to relax and enjoy his company.

Jay had this way of making everything feel effortless. He never pressured you, never pushed for more than you were ready to give. Instead, he created a space where you could simply be yourself, something you hadn’t realized you craved so much.

One chilly afternoon, the two of you found yourselves in the Three Broomsticks again, sharing a butterbeer in your usual corner booth. The fire crackled nearby, casting a warm glow as snowflakes danced outside the windows. Jay was talking about something that had happened in Potions class—a small explosion that left half the class covered in purple goo—and you couldn’t help but laugh at his animated retelling of the chaos.

“Merlin, I wish I’d seen that,” you said between giggles, picturing the scene.

Jay grinned. “It was a disaster. But a hilarious one.” He took a sip of his butterbeer before giving you a thoughtful look. “What about you? Any crazy class stories? You always seem to have things together, though.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh, trust me, I’ve had my fair share of disasters.” You thought back to a particularly embarrassing Charms mishap during your second year, when your spell went wrong and sent your quill flying across the room, hitting a professor in the face. You told Jay the story, and his laughter echoed through the tavern, making you smile even wider.

It felt so natural, this easy back-and-forth between you. And it wasn’t just laughter. As the days passed, you started to open up about deeper things, the kind of things you had kept buried for years.

One evening, while walking back to the castle from Hogsmeade, the topic turned to your past, to why you had been so guarded for so long. The night was quiet, snow crunching under your boots as you made your way up the path.

Jay looked at you, his expression soft but curious. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but… I’ve always wondered. Why didn’t you want to date anyone before?”

You hesitated for a moment, but something about the way he asked—gentle, without any pressure—made it easier to answer. You took a deep breath, watching your breath form little clouds in the cold air. “It wasn’t that I didn’t want to date anyone. I guess… I just didn’t trust it. I’d seen so many people fall in love and get hurt. And I didn’t want to be like that. Vulnerable.”

Jay was quiet for a moment, processing what you’d said. “I get that. But… not everyone gets hurt, you know? I mean, yeah, love can be risky, but it can also be worth it.”

You smiled softly, appreciating his perspective. “I’m starting to see that.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Jay had never been the type to get too caught up in feelings. He was easygoing, the guy everyone liked because he kept things light. When his friends had first dragged him into the bet, he went along with it more for the fun of watching them scramble than anything else. And yeah, he’d admit it—he enjoyed the perks of having them do favors for him, running around trying to make sure he didn’t give up too easily.

At first, it was simple. Ask you out, get you to say yes, and then maybe after a few dates, he’d call it quits. That was the plan. He didn’t expect to actually like you beyond the challenge. It was all supposed to be a joke, something to laugh about later with his friends.

But then the first date happened. And something shifted.

You weren’t like anyone he’d ever spent time with before. You were sharp, independent, and you didn’t let people in easily. He respected that. At first, he thought you were just closed off, that you had a wall around you because of past experiences. But during that first butterbeer, when you opened up just a little, he saw a glimpse of the real you—someone with layers, someone with a mind full of thoughts and a heart full of untold stories.

And it hit him—he liked you.

It had only been one date, and already, he felt a pang of guilt. He had no idea it would get this far, no idea that this wouldn’t be some simple, fleeting fling. And suddenly, his initial plan—dating you for the sake of a bet—felt like a dirty little secret. He hadn’t expected to care, hadn’t expected to enjoy your company the way he did.

But then came the second date. And the third. And each time, instead of feeling like he was closer to ending things, he found himself wanting more.

By the fourth date, he was all in. The guilt lingered, gnawing at him, but there was no denying it anymore: he was falling for you. Hard.

He started noticing everything about you—the way you smiled when you thought no one was watching, how your eyes sparkled when you talked about something you were passionate about, and the quiet strength you carried with you. Jay wasn’t sure how it had happened, but somewhere along the way, this had stopped being about the bet. It had become real.

One evening, while the two of you sat by the lake, watching the sky turn shades of pink and purple, Jay found himself thinking about all of it. About how wrong it was in the beginning, how his intentions had been shallow. But more than anything, he couldn’t stop thinking about how much he had changed since that first date. He had been pretending to care at first, but now… now he didn’t have to pretend at all.

He wanted to be with you. For real.

Sitting beside you, Jay turned to look at you, his heart heavy with unspoken words. He wasn’t sure how or when he would tell you the truth about how this all started, but he knew one thing for certain: he couldn’t lose you now.

“Hey,” he said softly, breaking the comfortable silence between you. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

You looked at him, curious. “What is it?”

Jay hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He wanted to confess everything right then, to tell you about the bet, about how it had all started as a game, but also about how real it had become for him. But he couldn’t do it. Not yet.

“Just that… I’m really glad we’re doing this,” he said, his voice sincere.

You smiled at him, a soft, genuine smile that made his chest tighten. “Me too.”

For a while, you both just sat there, side by side, watching the light dance on the water. The quiet seemed to settle in around you, creating a little bubble where it was just the two of you and nothing else mattered.

Then, a sudden cold breeze swept through, causing a shiver to run down your spine. You instinctively pulled your robes tighter around yourself, but it wasn’t enough. Without even thinking, you scooted closer to Jay, drawn to the warmth of his body. Your shoulder brushed against his, and you could feel the heat radiating from him, a contrast to the chill in the air.

Jay glanced over at you, noticing the movement, and a small smile played at the corner of his lips. “Cold?” he asked softly.

You nodded, rubbing your arms to warm yourself up. “A bit,” you admitted with a soft chuckle, trying not to focus too much on how close you were sitting now.

Without a word, Jay lifted his arm and draped it casually around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. The gesture was natural, as if it had been something he’d wanted to do all along. His warmth enveloped you, and you relaxed against him, letting the tension in your body ease.

“There, better?” he asked, his voice low, almost teasing, but there was a gentleness behind it.

“Yeah, much better,” you replied, leaning into him just a little more. The cold was still there, but it didn’t bother you as much anymore—not with Jay so close, his arm wrapped securely around you.

For a few minutes, the two of you stayed like that, wrapped up in each other’s warmth as the night settled in around you. It felt… right.

You glanced over at him, your gaze meeting his. There was something different in the way he was looking at you tonight—something deeper, more intense.

Neither of you spoke, but slowly, Jay shifted closer, his hand finding yours and lacing your fingers together. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver up your spine, and your breath caught as his thumb gently traced circles on the back of your hand.

He looked down at your joined hands, then back up at you, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite place. "I’ve wanted to do this for a while," he murmured, his voice low, almost hesitant.

Your heart raced, and you swallowed, the tension between you growing thicker. “Do what?”

Jay didn’t answer with words. Instead, he leaned in, closing the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a tentative kiss. The world seemed to slow in that moment, the soft press of his lips against yours igniting a fire that had been smoldering for weeks.

You melted into him, your hand tightening around his as you responded to the kiss, a rush of warmth spreading through you. His other hand gently cupped your cheek, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, turning from soft and hesitant to something more urgent, more intense.

Jay’s fingers slipped from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer as his kiss grew more heated, more desperate. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that mirrored your own, and without thinking, you reached up, your fingers tangling in his hair.

A soft groan escaped Jay’s lips as you tugged lightly, and in response, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the heat of his body through your robes, the way his chest rose and fell with each ragged breath. His hand slid down your back, finding its way under your robes, his fingers brushing against your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

Your head spun as the kiss intensified, and for a brief moment, you tried to pull back, needing air, needing to catch your breath—but Jay wasn’t having it. With a low growl, he pulled you back, his lips crashing against yours once more, more desperate than before.

“More,” he mumbled against your lips, his voice thick with want. “More.”

His hands roamed over your body, caressing you through the layers of fabric, as if he couldn’t get enough.

When you tried to pull back again, needing just a second to breathe, Jay’s grip on you tightened, his fingers digging into your waist as he pulled you impossibly closer. His breath was hot against your lips as he murmured, “Don’t stop. Please. Just… more.”

Your heart raced, your mind spinning with how much you wanted him, how much you needed him in that moment. Every time you pulled back, he was right there, pulling you in again, kissing you deeper, his hands exploring every inch of you as he whispered “more” over and over, his voice heavy with desire.

You didn’t know how long the two of you stayed like that—wrapped up in each other, kissing like you’d been starved for it, for each other. Time seemed to blur, and all you could feel was the heat of his body pressed against yours, the way his hands felt against your skin, the way his lips moved against yours with a need that matched your own.

When you finally managed to pull back, gasping for air, your foreheads rested together, both of you breathing heavily. Jay’s eyes were dark, filled with a longing that made your stomach flip. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared at you, his thumb gently brushing against your swollen lips.

And then, in a voice so quiet it was almost a whisper, he murmured, “I’m falling for you. Hard.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest, and for the first time, you realized that the walls you had built around yourself weren’t just crumbling—they were gone.

“I think I’m falling for you too,” you whispered back.

Jay smiled softly, his hand still tangled in your hair as he pulled you in for another kiss, this one slower, sweeter.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

The library was your sanctuary—a quiet place where you could escape from everything. You were there to gather a few books for your assignment, your mind focused on Potions and Charms, anything to keep yourself productive. The familiar scent of old parchment and ink surrounded you, and the soft sounds of pages turning from students studying filled the space.

You were reaching for a book on a high shelf when you heard voices from the other side of the bookshelf. Normally, you would’ve tuned out background noise, but something in the conversation caught your attention. It wasn’t loud, but it was just close enough to make out the words.

"Is Jay really dating her?" A girl’s voice. The tone had a hint of disbelief, as if she couldn’t quite understand the idea.

Your fingers paused on the spine of the book as your stomach tightened. You told yourself it wasn’t worth eavesdropping. That you shouldn’t care. But something kept you rooted in place.

"Nah, he isn’t for real," a boy’s voice responded. The casual tone in his voice made your heart race. "He made a bet with Kieran and Lucas."

The words hit you like a blow to the chest.

You froze, your mind reeling. A bet. You stood there, motionless, feeling like the ground had just been ripped out from under you. The voices continued talking, but you couldn’t hear anything else after that. The buzzing in your ears drowned out everything else as you struggled to make sense of what you’d just overheard.

It felt like the world tilted, your thoughts racing as you replayed every moment with Jay in your head. Every conversation, every laugh, every kiss. Was it all part of a game? A cruel joke?

You didn’t want to believe it. But there it was—the truth laid bare by careless words spoken in a dusty corner of the library. It wasn’t supposed to hurt like this. You’d never let yourself get this close to anyone for this exact reason, but Jay had somehow slipped through the cracks of your defenses. And now, everything was crumbling.

The voices moved on, the conversation shifting to something trivial, but you remained frozen in place. Your heart pounded in your chest as anger and hurt swirled inside you, your thoughts muddled and spinning out of control.

Slowly, you lowered your hand from the bookshelf and stepped away, your head spinning. You needed air, space to think. You needed to be anywhere but here, surrounded by the suffocating silence of the library.

You pushed past the shelves and made your way out, the noise of students chattering and studying blending into a blur. The only thing you could focus on was the betrayal clawing at your chest, the feeling of being played—by the one person you had let in after so long.

The memory of Jay’s smile, his gentle touch, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world… Was that all part of the game too?

You thought back to that night by the lake when he kissed you for the first time, when he told you he was falling for you. Was that a lie too? Had any of it been real?

Your heart pounded harder with each step as the pain built, a lump forming in your throat. You needed to find Jay, confront him, get the truth from him directly. You deserved that much, at least.

As you rounded the corner into the courtyard, your eyes immediately found him—Jay sitting with Kieran and Lucas, the same ones who had apparently been part of the bet. They were laughing, oblivious to the storm brewing inside you. The sight made your blood boil.

Without thinking, you marched over, the fury in your chest rising with every step. You could feel their eyes on you as you approached, the laughter dying down, replaced by confusion as they noticed the look on your face.

"Hey," Jay started, his voice light, as if nothing had happened, as if your whole world hadn’t just shattered.

You didn’t give him a chance to say more. "Was it a bet?" you asked sharply, your voice trembling with anger. You didn’t waste time, didn’t dance around the question. You needed the truth, and you needed it now.

Jay’s smile faltered, his expression shifting from confusion to concern. "What?"

"A bet," you repeated, your voice louder now. "Was I just a bet to you, Jongseong?"

His friends exchanged glances, and Kieran shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding your gaze. Jay’s face went pale, the blood draining from it as he realized you knew. You could see the guilt written all over his features, the way his eyes darted from you to his friends, as if searching for a way out of this. But there was no way out.

"Tell me," you demanded, your voice shaking with fury and hurt. "Tell me the truth, Jay."

He stood up, his hands held out in front of him as if to calm you down, but it only made you angrier. "It’s not—look, it wasn’t supposed to—"

"Answer the question!" You cut him off, your voice loud enough to make heads turn from nearby students. You didn’t care. The world could burn for all you cared in that moment. All you wanted was the truth.

Jay let out a shaky breath, his eyes filled with regret, but it was too late for that. "Yes," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "It started as a bet. But I—"

That was all you needed to hear. Your heart broke in an instant, the crack so deep it felt like it would never heal. The sting of betrayal cut sharper than any spell, sharper than any pain you had ever felt.

You took a step back, your entire body trembling with the force of your emotions. "You used me," you said, your voice cracking, the tears you had been holding back threatening to spill.

"No, it wasn’t like that," Jay pleaded, his eyes desperate now, stepping toward you, but you took another step back. "I swear, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. I didn’t mean—"

"But you did," you snapped, cutting him off. "You made a choice. You played with me like I was just some game, some prize to be won. And I fell for it. I fell for you."

The pain in your voice must have hit him, because Jay’s face crumpled, his hands falling to his sides. "I didn’t know it would turn into this," he said softly, his voice breaking. "I didn’t know I’d fall for you, too."

You shook your head, unable to believe anything he said now. "But it doesn’t matter, does it? Because I can’t trust you anymore. I can’t trust any of this."

Jay took another step forward, reaching out as if to touch you, to make you stay. "Please, just let me explain—"

You shoved him back, your hands shaking. "No. We’re done, Jay." Your voice was final, the weight of your words sinking into the silence that followed.

His friends, Kieran and Lucas, stood up, shifting awkwardly, guilt written all over their faces, but you couldn’t care less about them. You pushed past them, not even bothering to look back as Jay called your name, his voice thick with heartbreak.

"Wait!" he shouted after you, his voice cracking with desperation. "Please, just let me explain—"

But you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You shoved through the crowd, the tears you had been holding back finally spilling over as you made your way through the courtyard, your heart shattering with each step.

Behind you, you could hear Jay’s friends trying to comfort him, but their voices faded into the background as you walked away, leaving him standing there, devastated and broken. But that wasn’t your concern anymore. Jay had made his choice, and now you were making yours.

You didn’t look back. You couldn’t.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

The news that you and Jay had broken up spread like wildfire, igniting whispers and speculation throughout Hogwarts. By the next day, it seemed like everyone knew, and yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought—it was your pain, your heartache, and no one else could feel the weight of it the way you did.

Your friends rallied around you, their support constant and unwavering. They sat with you at meals, made sure you were never alone in the halls, and listened when you needed to vent. They didn’t press you for details, only offering comfort and reassurance whenever the hurt became too much to bear.

But despite their kindness, there was a part of you that remained hollow, a wound that couldn’t be healed overnight. You’d loved Jay—deeply, unexpectedly, against all your defenses. And now, that love felt like a weight you couldn’t shake, like a burden you carried with you no matter how much you tried to push it down.

You focused on school, throwing yourself into your studies with a renewed intensity. If you could just keep busy, maybe you wouldn’t have to think about him—about how much you missed him, despite everything. You wouldn’t let this break you.

But every once in a while, when you walked past the places you used to sit together, or saw him from across the Great Hall, the hurt would flare up again, raw and painful. It took everything in you not to look back, not to let yourself fall into that sadness that lurked beneath the surface.

Jay, on the other hand, was struggling. The smile that once lit up his face had faded, replaced by a hollow expression that even his closest friends noticed. He hadn’t spoken much to Kieran or Lucas since everything came out—they knew better than to approach him, especially after the guilt of what they’d done. Instead, Jay gravitated toward the friends who had always had his back, like Jungwon.

But even around them, he was different. His usual charm, the confidence that once radiated from him, was gone. He wasn’t cracking jokes like he used to, wasn’t the center of attention like before. He was just… broken.

Everywhere he went, it seemed like there was some reminder of you. The places you used to hang out together, the sound of your laughter still echoing in his mind. He hadn’t expected to care this much. In the beginning, it had been a game—a bet that had spiraled out of control. But somewhere along the way, he had fallen for you. Hard.

Now, every time he saw you, it felt like another knife in his chest. He watched you from a distance, seeing you surrounded by your friends, trying to act like everything was fine. He hated himself for what he’d done, for the hurt he caused. He hated that he’d ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Jungwon would sit with him, trying to pull him out of his thoughts, but it didn’t help. Nothing did. Because all Jay could think about was you—how much he missed you, how much he wished he could turn back time and change everything.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

As the Yule Ball approached, the atmosphere at Hogwarts shifted. Excitement buzzed through the halls, a constant reminder of the impending event. Students adorned their robes in bright colors and practiced their dance moves, whispers of who was going with whom filling the air. You had initially planned to attend with your friends, but as the weeks passed, it became clear that they were all pairing off with their significant others.

One by one, you watched them receive their invitations, see their faces light up, and hear their laughter echoing through the halls. It was bittersweet, a reminder of how alone you felt, especially since your breakup with Jay. As the date drew closer, the thought of being a third wheel began to loom larger in your mind, making you reconsider going at all.

You walked out of Charms class, lost in thought about how to politely decline attending the ball. Maybe you could just stay in your common room with a stack of books, avoid the heartbreak of watching couples dance together while you nursed your own wounds.

But as you rounded the corner, your heart nearly stopped when you came face-to-face with a shy Ravenclaw, his cheeks flushed and his eyes darting nervously to the ground. He was a quiet boy you’d spoken to in passing but never really knew well.

"Um, hey," he stammered, scratching the back of his neck. “I was, uh… wondering if you’d like to go to the Yule Ball with me?”

Time seemed to freeze for a moment as you processed what he was saying. He looked genuinely hopeful yet equally terrified. You could see the way his hands trembled slightly, his expression a mixture of anticipation and fear of rejection. It was sweet, really. And it tugged at something inside you, a flicker of warmth you hadn’t felt in a while.

You hesitated, considering your options. On one hand, you could accept, and it would mean you wouldn’t have to be alone at the ball. But on the other, you weren’t sure if jumping into a date was the best way to move on from everything with Jay. Still, you didn’t want to shut yourself away completely.

After a long moment of silence, you decided that maybe going with someone new could be a step toward healing. “Sure,” you said, forcing a smile that felt slightly wobbly. “I’d love to go with you.”

His face brightened, relief washing over him. “Really? That’s awesome! I’ll, um, get us some butterbeers later to celebrate?”

“Sounds good,” you replied, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement.

As you parted ways, you felt a strange mix of emotions swirling inside you. You knew this wasn’t going to fix everything, but maybe it was a start. A small step forward.

But as you made your way back to the common room, you couldn’t shake the thought of Jay. You wondered how he was handling everything, how he was feeling about the ball. Would he be going? Would he be with someone else, smiling and dancing while you tried to enjoy yourself with a new date?

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

The night of the Yule Ball arrived with a flurry of excitement, and you could hardly contain your nerves. You and your friends gathered in your common room, laughter bubbling between you as you helped each other with last-minute touches. You slipped into your beautiful long-sleeved dress, the fabric hugging your figure just right and flaring slightly at the waist. The color complemented your skin tone perfectly, and the matching heels gave you an added height that made you feel more confident.

Your hair was elegantly pinned up, delicate flowers clipped in to add a touch of whimsy. As you applied the finishing touches of makeup, you glanced in the mirror and couldn’t help but smile at your reflection. You felt beautiful, ready for the evening ahead.

“Wow, you look stunning!” one of your friends exclaimed, making you blush.

“Thanks! You guys look amazing, too!” you replied, your excitement building.

Once you were all ready, you made your way out of the common room and down the winding staircase toward the Great Hall.

When you reached the entrance to the Great Hall, you spotted your date, the shy Ravenclaw boy, standing nearby in a sleek dress robe that fit him well. He looked nervous but flashed you a warm smile as he approached.

“You look incredible,” he said, his cheeks reddening slightly as he took your hand, guiding you forward.

“Thank you! You clean up nicely too,” you replied, your heart fluttering with the thrill of the moment.

As you stepped into the hall, the decorations took your breath away. Twinkling lights hung from the ceiling, and the atmosphere was alive with music and laughter. You could see groups of students dancing, chatting, and enjoying themselves, but your gaze was drawn elsewhere.

You scanned the crowd, your heart racing for a different reason now. You were searching for Jay.

You scanned the crowd, your pulse quickening as your eyes searched for him. The hall was alive with the shimmer of enchanted lights, the buzz of conversation, and the sound of music swirling in the background.

Then you saw him.

Jay stood with a group of friends, dressed in a clean, perfectly tailored suit. His hair was slicked back, the usual mess tamed into something more refined, which only made him look even more handsome. He looked every bit the heartthrob he was known to be—confident, sharp, and effortlessly magnetic. But what made your breath hitch was the fact that he was already looking at you.

Your eyes locked, and for a split second, the world around you seemed to blur. There was something intense in the way he looked at you, a softness in his gaze that made your heart skip, but also something else—a tension, a simmering heat. You followed his gaze as it flicked from you to your date, Eli, his eyes darkening just a shade. Was that… jealousy? You wondered, your chest tightening at the thought, the way his jaw clenched, and the subtle flicker of irritation in his eyes when they landed on Eli sent a confusing swirl of emotions through you.

The music shifted, signaling the start of the festivities. The champions were first to take the dance floor, swirling gracefully with their dates. You watched, trying to lose yourself in the celebration, but your mind kept wandering back to the boy standing across the room, who seemed to burn his way into your thoughts.

When the champions' dance came to an end, Eli turned to you, his expression warm and hopeful. “Would you like to dance?” he asked, extending his hand.

You forced a smile, pushing aside the jumble of emotions Jay’s presence had stirred up. “Sure,” you replied, taking his hand.

Eli led you to the dance floor, his grip gentle but firm as he guided you through the steps. The music was beautiful, the lights soft and romantic, and everything around you should have felt perfect. Eli was kind, polite, and sweet. He held you with a respectful distance, his movements smooth and practiced. He was everything you thought you wanted—until now.

Because as you moved through the motions of the dance, something was off. You tried to focus on Eli, on the moment, but your heart wasn’t in it. You looked at him—his bright eyes, his easy smile—and felt a pang of guilt. He didn’t deserve this, because deep down, you knew.

Your heart wasn’t his.

It still beat for someone else. For Jay.

You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing over your shoulder, searching for him again. And there he was, still standing with his friends, his eyes locked on you. But this time, the jealousy was more evident, etched into his expression as he watched you dance with someone else.

The realization hit you hard, like a wave crashing over you. You had tried to move on, to push Jay out of your heart after everything that had happened, but it hadn’t worked. No matter how much you wanted to deny it, your feelings for him hadn’t faded. They were still there, pulsing beneath the surface, undeniable and raw.

Eli spun you around, his hand warm against yours, but your mind was miles away. You couldn’t keep doing this. Not to yourself, and not to Eli.

As the song came to a close, Eli smiled at you, clearly pleased with the dance. But you couldn’t return the smile fully, not when you were so conflicted inside.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

You nodded, but it was a lie. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… thinking.”

He didn’t press, but the disappointment in his eyes was hard to miss. Still, he squeezed your hand, ever the gentleman, and led you back toward the edge of the hall. But as you followed him, your gaze drifted back to Jay once more, your heart aching with the realization of what you really wanted.

The Yule Ball began to shift into a more relaxed atmosphere as the night wore on. The formal dances gave way to a more carefree kind of celebration, with students letting loose and enjoying the music that filled the Great Hall. The tension of the earlier part of the evening dissolved, replaced by laughter and movement as friends grouped together on the dance floor.

You found yourself in the midst of it, surrounded by your friends, swaying to the music and laughing at the jokes they made. For the first time in what felt like ages, you allowed yourself to relax, to let go of all the stress that had been weighing you down.

Your friends were fully immersed in the fun, pulling you into their dances and twirling you around. It was hard not to get caught up in the energy of the moment. You danced without a care, letting the music drown out your thoughts and the laughter of your friends fill your heart.

But as much as you tried to lose yourself in the music, there was still a lingering thought in the back of your mind. Jay. You hadn't seen him for a while now, though you knew he was somewhere in the hall. It was impossible to ignore the way his eyes had followed you earlier, the weight of his gaze like a presence you couldn’t shake.

"Come on, have some fun!" one of your friends called, pulling you back into the moment. You smiled, pushing thoughts of Jay aside, at least for now.

You twirled around, your dress spinning with you as the music grew louder, the crowd of students around you caught up in the same carefree energy. For a while, it was easy to get lost in the atmosphere, to let the magic of the night sweep you away. You laughed, feeling lighter than you had in days, maybe even weeks.

The music thumped softly in the background as you spun one last time with your friends, a wide smile plastered on your face. The night had been more fun than you'd anticipated, and for a while, you had managed to forget everything that had been weighing on you. But after hours of dancing, you began to feel the tiredness creep in, your feet aching in your heels, and a faint dizziness from all the excitement.

You laughed, out of breath, and excused yourself from the group. “I need a break,” you said, flashing a sheepish grin. They waved you off with good-natured cheers, still caught up in their own fun.

Eli, your date for the night, noticed you leaving and approached you before you could disappear. You offered him a smile as he walked up, looking as polished as ever in his sleek robes.

“Hey, Eli," you began, your voice soft, "I just wanted to say I really appreciate you asking me tonight. It meant a lot, especially with everything going on—”

But Eli stopped you with a gentle hand raised. He smiled, though there was a touch of sadness in his eyes. “You don’t need to explain. I understand.”

You hesitated, feeling a flicker of guilt. “Eli, I—"

“It’s okay,” he said kindly, cutting you off again. “You’ve been through a lot, and I don’t blame you for still having feelings for him. You don’t need to apologize or explain yourself.”

His words were a relief, but they also made your heart ache a little. He had been so thoughtful and understanding throughout the night, and you had hoped you wouldn’t hurt him.

“Thank you,” you murmured. “For everything.”

He smiled again, the weight of understanding hanging between you. "Go on, then," he said, giving you a small, encouraging nudge. "Take the night for yourself."

With one last grateful nod, you left the Great Hall, the sound of music and laughter fading behind you as you made your way down the dimly lit corridors. The stone walls echoed softly with the distant noise of the celebration as you wandered further from the hall, needing space to breathe, to think.

Eventually, you found yourself in the courtyard. The cool night breeze washed over you, a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the packed hall. You inhaled deeply, letting the crisp air fill your lungs, and walked over to the fountain at the center of the courtyard.

You sat down by the edge of the fountain, taking a moment to collect yourself. Your fingers found their way to your hair, gently undoing the intricate updo your friends had helped you with. One by one, the flowers they had carefully clipped into your hair began to fall into your lap. You plucked them from the strands, watching as they floated in the water, drifting lazily across the surface of the fountain.

There was something calming about watching the flowers drift, their colors bright against the dark water.

As you sat there, you allowed your mind to wander back to the ball, back to Jay. You had seen the way he had looked at you, the jealousy, the regret—his emotions had been written all over his face. And in that brief moment when your eyes had met, something inside you shifted. You couldn’t deny it anymore. You had feelings for him, strong feelings that hadn’t gone away, no matter how hard you had tried to push them aside.

A part of you still hurt, still felt the sting of betrayal from what had happened. But another part of you—one that you were only now starting to fully acknowledge—wanted to fix things, to give him, and maybe even yourself, another chance.

You stared at the water, the ripples distorting the reflection of the stars overhead, and wondered what your next step would be.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Jay had just returned to the Grand Hall after a brief escape to the bathroom, hoping to clear his head and settle his nerves. The night had been overwhelming, seeing you with someone else and feeling the regret gnawing at his insides. As he re-entered the hall, his eyes immediately scanned the room, searching for you in the sea of dancing students.

But you weren’t there. His eyes darted between groups of people, hoping to catch a glimpse of your dress or your hair, but no luck. His heart sank. He quickly looked for your friends, figuring you’d be with them, but they were too deep in the crowd, completely absorbed in the festivities. A frustrated sigh left him as he slumped back into a chair by the side of the hall.

"Where is she?" he muttered under his breath, his mind racing with thoughts of what could have happened, why you had suddenly disappeared from the hall.

Jungwon sat beside him, quietly observing Jay’s anxious behavior for a moment before speaking. “She’s in the courtyard," he said, his voice calm but knowing.

Jay turned to him, surprise and gratitude crossing his features all at once. "Alone?" he asked, his heart pounding faster now.

Jungwon nodded. "Yeah. She seemed like she needed some space, but if I were you, I'd go talk to her. Now’s your chance."

Without a second thought, Jay pushed himself out of his chair and headed towards the courtyard. He didn’t stop to think about what he was going to say or how he’d explain himself. All that mattered was that you were out there, alone, and he needed to see you, to fix what had been broken.

When he reached the entrance to the courtyard, he saw you sitting by the fountain, your back to him, your head slightly bowed as you released the last few flowers from your hair into the water. The soft light of the moon bathed you in a pale glow, making you look almost ethereal. For a moment, he stood frozen, just watching you.

You looked so peaceful, but at the same time, he could sense the weight you were carrying, the conflict inside you. It pained him to know he had been the cause of it.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Jay slowly walked towards you. The night air was cool, but he barely felt it—his focus was entirely on you. When he got close enough, he spoke softly, not wanting to startle you.

"Hey," he said, his voice gentle, almost hesitant.

You turned your head slightly at the sound of his voice, your gaze meeting his. For a moment, neither of you spoke. There was a tension in the air, thick with unspoken words and emotions. You could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the regret etched in his expression.

“I... I was looking for you,” Jay admitted, stepping closer. His eyes flickered to the fountain where the flowers floated gently on the water, then back to you.

You sighed softly, your fingers playing with the edge of your dress. “I just needed some air. It was getting too much inside.”

Jay swallowed hard, nodding. He hesitated, unsure of how to begin, how to explain the whirlwind of feelings inside him. "I get it. The ball... everything, it’s a lot."

There was a pause, the air between you heavy with all the things left unsaid. You turned back to the fountain, staring at the drifting flowers, your mind a storm of thoughts. But Jay couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

“I never wanted things to end the way they did,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “I messed up, and I know I hurt you. But I never meant for any of it to happen like this. I didn’t expect… well, I didn’t expect to feel the way I do about you.”

You glanced at him, your eyes soft but still guarded. “And how is that, Jay? How do you feel about me now?”

He ran a hand through his hair, his voice shaking with honesty. “I’m in love with you.”

You stared at him for a moment, his words lingering in the cool night air. It was a confession that you had never expected to hear from him, not after everything that had happened.

Your heart raced as you took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. Could you do this? Could you let him in again, knowing what had happened?

“I…” You paused, your eyes flickering down to the flowers still floating in the fountain. “I love you too, Jay.”

The words spilled from your lips softly but with a certainty that surprised even you. The weight that had been pressing down on your chest for weeks seemed to lift, leaving a lightness in its wake. You had been holding onto this truth for too long, trying to deny it, but it was always there, waiting for you to acknowledge it.

Jay’s eyes widened in disbelief, a slow smile spreading across his face as he stepped closer. “You… you do?”

You nodded, finally looking up to meet his gaze. “I do. I was angry at you—hurt—but that doesn’t change how I feel about you. I tried to push it away, but it’s still there.”

Jay exhaled deeply, relief flooding his features. His happiness was so palpable that it warmed you from the inside. “I didn’t think I’d hear that from you again,” he admitted, sitting down beside you on the edge of the fountain. His knee brushed against yours, sending a familiar warmth through you.

There was a comfortable silence as you both sat there, processing the moment. Jay turned to you, his expression softening. “I need to tell you something. I never wanted to hurt you with the bet. It started as something stupid, something I didn’t even care about, but when I got to know you, really know you…” His voice faltered as he swallowed hard. “Everything changed. You changed everything for me.”

You gave him a small, understanding smile. “I know,” you said quietly.

Jay blinked in surprise. “What?”

“Jungwon. He told me before the ball. He said that you never meant for it to get so far, that you didn’t want to hurt me, and he thought I should know the truth from someone else before making any decisions.”

Jay’s eyebrows shot up. “Jungwon told you?”

You laughed lightly, the sound easing some of the tension between you. “Yeah, he did. He’s more observant than you give him credit for.”

Jay let out a short laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe that little sneak.”

You smiled warmly, feeling a sense of comfort that you hadn’t felt in a long time. “He told me what you said to him—that you realized you had real feelings for me. That you didn’t want to lose me over a stupid bet.”

Jay's expression softened. “I didn’t. I really didn’t want to lose you.”

“I know, Jay,” you said, your voice gentle. “And that’s why I didn’t walk away forever. I was hurt, but… I knew you didn’t mean for any of it to happen.”

Jay reached out, his hand brushing against yours. His fingers curled around yours, and you didn’t pull away. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “For all of it. I should have been honest from the start.”

You gave his hand a soft squeeze, feeling the sincerity in his words. “I know you are. But let’s not dwell on it, okay? We’re here now. That’s what matters.”

Jay’s eyes shimmered with gratitude as he smiled at you, his thumb gently tracing the back of your hand. “I don’t deserve you.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Maybe not, but you’ve got me anyway.”

His smile widened, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like everything was going to be okay. The hurt, the confusion—it was all fading away, replaced by something stronger, something more real.

“I love you,” Jay said again, his voice filled with warmth. “And I’ll spend every day proving it to you, if you’ll let me.”

You looked at him, your heart swelling with affection. “I love you too, Jay.”

As you gazed up at the sky, the stars twinkling like distant diamonds, you felt a sense of peace. You felt… whole.

But as you marveled at the beauty above, you didn’t notice that Jay was watching you instead of the stars. His eyes were soft, full of something deep and unspoken. He wasn’t in awe of the night sky—he was in awe of you.

Without saying a word, Jay reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand, his gaze never leaving your face. With a flick of his wrist and a subtle murmur, he cast a spell. You were so lost in thought that it wasn’t until you noticed movement from the corner of your eye that you looked down.

The flowers that had been floating serenely in the fountain began to rise, swirling around you like petals caught in a gentle breeze. Your eyes widened in surprise as the flowers danced gracefully through the air, forming intricate patterns before slowly weaving themselves into a crown.

Before you could fully process what was happening, the delicate crown of flowers gently settled onto your head. Your fingers instinctively reached up to touch it, feeling the softness of the petals against your skin. You looked at Jay, your mouth slightly parted in shock.

He was smiling at you—his signature smile, the one that always had a way of making your heart flutter. There was something different in his expression now though, something tender and full of emotion. He had never looked at you like this before.

“Jay…” you whispered, still a bit stunned by the beautiful gesture.

He slid closer to you, the space between you disappearing in an instant. His voice was low, almost reverent when he spoke. “You look even more beautiful now,” he said, his eyes flicking up to the crown before returning to yours. “But to me, you always are.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest, your earlier surprise melting into a soft smile. “That was… really sweet.”

He reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “I meant every bit of it.”

Your breath caught in your throat at the closeness, the intensity of the moment settling between you like a charged current. His touch lingered, and you could feel the soft rhythm of his breathing as his gaze fell to your lips. He wasn’t rushing, just savoring the quiet, the connection that had always been there.

The stars sparkled overhead, but it was nothing compared to the way Jay was looking at you now, like you were his entire world.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, you closed the distance between you. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the thrum of anticipation humming in the air as his lips inched closer to yours.

And then, without another word, his lips met yours in a kiss that was soft, tender, and full of everything unspoken between you. It was a kiss that erased the past, the hurt, and the misunderstandings, replacing them with something deeper. Something real.

The soft kiss between you and Jay slowly deepened, the tenderness giving way to a quiet urgency. His hands, which had been resting gently on your waist, tightened slightly, pulling you closer. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, and it only made the moment more intoxicating.

Just as you thought things couldn't get more intense, Jay shifted, his arms wrapping securely around you as he gently lifted you up and placed you on his lap. The sudden movement caught you off guard, and you let out a squeal of surprise followed by a burst of giggles. Jay chuckled along with you, his forehead resting against yours as he peppered your lips and face with a series of playful, teasing kisses.

"Jay!" you giggled, your laughter echoing softly through the courtyard.

He grinned, his lips brushing over yours again before moving to the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, not missing a beat. “What? Can’t help it. You look too cute when you laugh,” he teased, his voice warm and full of affection.

You couldn’t help but smile wider as his kisses continued, your hands gripping the front of his shirt to steady yourself. For a moment, you were both lost in the playfulness of it all, the earlier tension replaced with something light and free. The sound of your shared laughter mingled with the night air, making it feel like you two were the only ones in the world.

When he finally paused to look at you, you noticed the smudges of your lipstick now staining his lips. “Jay…” you said, biting your lip to stop from laughing again. “You’ve got my lipstick all over you.”

“So?” he shrugged casually, still holding you close. “I don’t care.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re impossible.”

Jay grinned, his hands resting on your hips as he pulled you in for another kiss, completely unbothered by the lipstick now marking his face. “Yeah, but you love it,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a mix of teasing and sincerity.

You couldn’t argue with that. Your heart swelled as you kissed him again, deeper this time, more passionately. His fingers trailed up your leg, sending shivers through you as the kiss became more intense. You felt him smile against your lips again as his hands steadied you on his lap.

Your breath came in short, heated gasps when you finally pulled back, only for Jay to tilt his head, catching your lips again as if he couldn’t bear to be away from you even for a second. “More,” he whispered in a hushed voice, his lips barely leaving yours as he spoke.

You let out a soft laugh, your hands now gently running through his hair, pulling him even closer. “More?” you repeated, your voice light with amusement.

“Yeah,” Jay whispered again, his breathing heavy, eyes half-lidded as he gazed at you. “More.”

After what felt like an eternity of kissing, you finally pulled back with a soft laugh, your fingers tracing the faint lipstick marks that still stained Jay's lips. “Okay, okay,” you said breathlessly, gently cupping his face. “You need to wipe this off.”

Jay chuckled, his hands reluctantly loosening their grip on you. “Fine, if it bothers you that much.” He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his lips with an exaggerated motion, making you laugh again.

“Much better,” you teased, sliding off his lap with a soft smile. As your feet touched the ground, you smoothed out your dress, adjusting the fabric over your legs. You felt the cool night air once again, and without warning, a shiver ran through your body.

Before you could even react, Jay was already moving. In one swift motion, he pulled off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, the warmth of it instantly enveloping you. “Here,” he murmured, his voice gentle, “don’t want you to get cold.”

You smiled up at him, touched by his thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Jay.”

He shrugged as if it were nothing, but the small smile that tugged at his lips told you he was happy to help. “Anything for you.”

With his jacket snug around you, Jay slid his arm around your waist, pulling you close as the two of you made your way back toward the grand hall. The night air still carried a faint chill, but with Jay’s warmth by your side, you hardly noticed it. You leaned into him, resting your head lightly on his shoulder, and he welcomed you into his embrace without hesitation.

When you both stepped back into the grand hall, the atmosphere had shifted. The music was softer now, and there were far fewer people on the dance floor. Many of the students had already retired for the night, leaving only a handful still swaying to the music or talking quietly at their tables.

You glanced around, noticing that your friends were nowhere to be seen, but instead of feeling worried or out of place, you felt a sense of peace. It was like the world had shrunk to just you and Jay.

Leaning further into his side, you sighed softly. Jay’s arm tightened around you as he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “You okay?” he asked, his voice low and comforting.

“Yeah,” you replied, looking up at him. “I’m perfect.”

As the two of you stood together in the quiet grand hall, Jay turned to you, his eyes soft and full of affection. “Do you want to dance?” he asked gently, his hand already extending toward you.

You glanced around the hall, noticing how the crowd had thinned even further, the music slow and sweet in the background. It was the perfect moment, and you knew it. With a small smile, you nodded, slipping your hand into his. “I’d love to.”

Jay’s face lit up, and he led you to the center of the dance floor. His hands found their way to your waist as you rested yours on his shoulders. The two of you moved together slowly, swaying to the rhythm of the soft music. His touch was gentle, and there was a tenderness in the way he held you, as if he was still savoring the fact that you were back in his arms.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Jay murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. “I don’t think I’ve told you that enough.”

Your heart fluttered, and you leaned closer to him, resting your head against his chest. “I think you’ve made up for it,” you teased softly.

Jay’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, pulling you closer as he rested his cheek against the top of your head. “I’m so glad I have you back,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the music.

You smiled, your eyes closing as you savored the warmth of his embrace. “Me too, Jay.”

(´ 3｀)

a/n: Jungwon is next! Then Sunoo, Sunghoon and Heeseung!

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: aro and ace sff, vibes edition

While I'm working on my canonical in-text-only aroace rec list, have this more vibes based edition! These are books which center platonic and/or hard to define relationships over romantic and/or sexual ones. Basically they are books that made me, a certified romance disliker, especially connect with the way they portrayed and prioritized non-romantic relationships, whether they're canonically aro/ace or not.

For more details on the books, check under the readmore! My personal favorites are marked with an *. For more rec lists, take a look at my masterpost!

Canonical aro and/or ace

Elatsoe by Darcie Little Badger

Young adult. Elatsoe's America is slightly different from the one we know. Magics and monsters both everyday and dangerous inhabit her world. Elatsoe herself can raise the ghosts of dead animals, a skill passed down through generations of her Lipan Apache family. When her cousin is murdered, Elatsoe decides to find out just what happened, even as his home town does everything it can to bury a truth older and larger than she could've imagined.

Not Even Bones by Rebecca Schaeffer*

Young adult. Nita isn’t a murderer - technically. She just dissects the bodies of supernatural beings her mother brings home and sells for parts on the black market. But when her mother brings home a still living victim, Nita has had enough and frees him. As it turns out, no good deed goes unpunished as Nita is betrayed, her own nature as a supernatural entity outed as she’s kidnapped and placed behind bars. Now she must find a way to escape before she’s sold for parts.

Winter Tide by Ruthanna Emrys*

Aphra and her brother are the only survivors after the government raided their home, Innsmouth. Their only living family are the amphibian people of the deep, whom they will one day join, but until then they are bound to land where they struggle to build new lives for themselves after the great loss of their home and loved ones. Then rumors start to spread of a Russian agent seeking dangerous and ancient magic, forcing Aphra to involve herself as they try to stop it.

All Systems Red by Martha Wells*

After having hacked its own governor module, SecUnit uses its small amount of new freedom to secretly download and watch as much media as it can between doing its job guarding humans. But when the scientists it’s been charged with keeping safe come under attack, it must make a choice about whether to continue keeping its freedom secret or risk it all to save them. I leave up to individual judgment whether SecUnit counts as agender, asexual and aromantic, as it is a robot.

The Angel of the Crows by Katherine Addison*

Sherlock Holmes retelling. After having been injured fighting a war against fallen angels, Doyle returns to London to survive on only a veteran’s pension. To afford a place to live in the city, Doyle finds a housemate in Crow, an eccentric angel with a great curiosity for humans and a knack for solving crime. And London needs its protector - supernatural beings walk the streets, and someone going by the name Jack the Ripper terrifies the citizens at night.

Vicious by V.E. Schwab

While studying near-death experiences as college roommates, Victor and Eli discovered something incredible: under the right circumstances, someone can develop seemingly supernatural abilities. When they moved their research to the experimental stage, things went horribly wrong. Ten years later, Victor has broken out of jail and sets out to hunt his former friend, who is on a mission to eradicate all other superpowered people in existence.

Word of god aro and/or ace

Vespertine by Margaret Rogerson

Young adult fantasy. Artemisia prefers the dead to the living, and is training to become a Gray Sister, a nun who helps the souls of the deceased pass on to the afterlife rather than remain as dangerous spirits. To defend her convent, Artemisia accepts the help of a dangerous revenant, a powerful spirit which grants her great power but also could possess her the moment her guard is lowered. As evil threatens her homeland, Artemisia and the revenant must find a way to work together.

Archivist Wasp by Nicole Kornher-Stace

Wasp is the chosen Archivist in a post-apocalyptic world haunted by the dead. Her job is to hunt the ghosts that still linger, a dangerous and lonely position where she every year is made to fight others to not be replaced. When she meets the ghost of a super soldier, Wasp strikes a deal with him to help him find a long lost friend in exchange for learning more about the world that once was.

The Spider and her Demons by sydney khoo*

Young adult fantasy. All teenager Zhi wants is a normal life (and possibly for her harsh aunt to be a bit nicer), but it’s hard when she’s half spider demon. Every day she must conceal her true nature and hide in human guise. When she slips up and eats a man in front of her rich, aloof classmate Dior, Zhi thinks her life is over. But Dior has secrets of her own, and she is dead set on making herself part of Zhi’s life.

Not canonically aro and/or ace but have The Vibes

Lycanthropy and Other Chronic Illnesses by Kristen O'Neal*

Priya had plans to go to Stanford, but is derailed by the fallout of lyme disease, making her question if she’ll ever get back to normal. Luckily she has her discord support group with whom she can chat and vent about her illness. Even more - she has Brigid, online fandom friend and fellow chronic illness sufferer. But when Brigid disappears from the web without warning, Priya must drive to Pennsylvania to make sure her friend is okay - and finds that Brigid’s condition is a bit hairier than expected.

Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir*

Ryland Grace just woke up from a coma, unable to remember anything. He finds himself alone on a space ship, and as his memories slowly trickle back, he realizes he’s been sent on a mission: to find a solution to the impending doom of planet earth. Still struggling with holes in his memories, Ryland tries to fulfill his mission, but as he gets closer to his goal, he discovers someone else got there first. And they aren’t anything close to human. Funny, heartfelt, and heavy on the science.

Malevolent by Harlan Guthrie*

Lovecraftian horror mystery. Private detective Arthur Lester wakes up in his office, his partner dead, memories fuzzy, vision gone, and the voice of a malevolent entity in his mind. Unable to see, Arthur is forced to rely on guidance from the entity as they attempt to solve the mystery of what it is and where it came from. Is this a book? No. But as someone who reads mostly audiobooks, the difference between a book and a fiction podcast is negligible, and also I love this story and its characters and want all of you to do so too.

The Girl from the Well by Rin Chupeco

Young adult horror. Okiku died three hundred years ago, her body thrown down a well. Now she spends her days hunting for and punishing murderers like the one who once killed her. When a strange boy bearing odd tattoos appears in her area, he catches Okiku’s attention - as does something that follows after him. To save the boy, Okiku will be drawn into a journey taking both of them from American suburbia to a faraway shrine in Japan.

Radiant by Karina Sumner-Smith*

In a world where magic is currency, Xhea, wholly devoid of magic, is the lowest of the low. She does have one special ability, though: she can see ghosts. This ability proves useful when she meets Shai, the ghost of a girl from the higher echelons of society who isn't actually dead yet. Her body stolen and her ghost on the run, Shai needs Xhea's help.

A Closed and Common Orbit by Becky Chambers*

Technically part two of a series, but stands well on its own as the installments are only loosely connected (though I recommend reading the first book as well, it’s very good). A former ship’s AI recently moved into an illegal android body tries to make sense of life as she navigates her way through humans and aliens alike, paralleled with the story of a young girl working alongside and AI to flee a dystopian planet.

A Psalm for the Wild-Built by Becky Chambers

Novella. Long ago, robots, upon gaining sentience, simply laid down their work and walked into the wilderness. Long after, a tea monk looking for purpose follows after them into the wilds, where they come across one of the robots seeking its own sort of answers. While not plotless, this story focuses more on character and vibes over plot. Also has a nonbinary main character and features conversations on gender between human and robot.

Zero Sum Game by S.L. Huang*

Cas Russel is more than just good at math - she can calculate accurately and quickly enough to dodge bullets and fight those twice her size with ease. She thought she was the only one with an ability like this, until she discovers someone with a power even more dangerous than hers, able to reach into and twist the minds of others. Suddenly too involved to simply run away, Cas must not only save the day, but do so while she can't trust her own thoughts.

Skulduggery Pleasant by Derek Landy*

Young adult. Twelve-year-old Stephanie Edgley’s uncle, famed horror writer, just died mysteriously and left her his entire fortune. As it turns out, the stories he wrote weren’t entirely made up, and that which killed him wasn’t entirely human. In trying to avenge his death, Stephanie joins forces with Skulduggery Pleasant, sorcerer, detective, and living, walking skeleton. Including this one is kinda cheating because (part of) the series has romance, but the central relationship is always the codependent nonsense (affectionate) between the lead and her mentor/detective partner.

When the Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb*

The angel Uriel and the demon Little Ash have been friends for centuries, living and studying together in a small Jewish community in Europe. But times are changing, and many of the community have left for a new life across the sea. When one of these emigrants go missing, Uriel and Little Ash decide to leave their peaceful life to go find and, if needed, save her.

Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie

A space opera in which sentient spaceships can walk the ground in stolen human bodies, so called ancillaries. One of these ancillaries, the sole survivor after the complete destruction of her ship and crew, is one the hunt for revenge against the most powerful woman in the empire. This series also does very cool things with gender!

Translation State by Ann Leckie*

An exploration of the alien as filtered through the human. At what point does the human become something else? When does something else become human? Is it a question of biology or culture, nature or nurture? Can we choose it? Can it be forced upon us? Set in the Imperial Radch universe, Translation State follows three different characters embroiled in the question of what makes a human. The alien Presger can only communicate with humans using their translators - people they’ve created that are not quite human and not quite alien. But as news of a translator fugitive arises, conflict brews regarding what right they have to choose their own identity and home.

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"My everything." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

(Not my gif!)

A sleepless night after your and Daryl's baby was born.

A/N: Just a cheesy imagine hehe sometimes I like to imagine a soft dad!Daryl. I wrote this imagine for my Tom Holland page, so if you ever find it, you know why. Sorry if you see any grammatical errors. Hope you like it! Thank u.

Marley Rose Dixon was one month old now.

She was born in a warm room full of candles, in a blissful and foggy night in which the world of her mother and father was painted with beautiful colors again after walking in a grey world for so long, announcing her arrival with a loud cry that showed her freedom and her desire to live until the doctor (luckily, there was a few in Alexandria) placed her on your chest for the first time.

Marley was named after Daryl's older brother, and you didn't mind because despite everything, you knew how much he loved his brother. At first, the news wasn't easy for either of you two to take in (the option of abortion was considered at length), but the thought of a baby gave you both the hope that something better and more beautiful could come, too. And boy, it did.

Right there, the moment she was born, her blue eyes — identical to her father's — sparkled with the glow of two small diamonds, treasures hidden behind her long lashes from the first time she opened her eyes and gazed, serenely, at her parents, and the new world around her, a better world you two were trying to build for her.

But from that moment on, she cried, cried and cried from time to time.

At 2:54 am, Alexandria is submerged in a cozy dream far from the fear and death, unlike you, and it seems unreachable for you as you walk through your dark room taking soft steps and soft bounces, holding in your arms a small human being created from a great love and blah, blah, blah, other nonsense things you used to believe before being deprived of such a necessary resource, for your sanity and mental health (you didn't sleep much before her, and Daryl even less, but still). But you chuckle, numb from lack of sleep, tired, but at peace with yourself as her little head lies on your right arm and your left hand gently caresses her back, wrapped comfortably in a white blanket with pictures of little elephants, just like the pillow in the shape of the same animal that Uncle Rick found for her during a run.

You love her, you are crazy about her, even if days became difficult and nights were exhausting, (even with the monumental help Carol and the rest of the family gave you), but all the reward is in being able to hold her in your arms, warm and safe. Daryl calls her his angel, his princess, and at the time, it is an appropriate nickname for someone who cries to make her demands heard.

You chuckle, again.

"Is she tellin’ ya a good joke?" Daryl walks into the room, holding a bottle of warm milk in his hand.

You and Carol taught him how to do it, and now, he is an expert. His brown hair is tousled, but it usually is so no one could tell the difference, eyes tired from lack of sleep, shirtless and in gray loose sweatpants he refused to wear at first.

“15 minutes to make the milk? I was starting to get worried actually." You raise an eyebrow, speaking softly. "Why did you take so long? The milk is in the kitchen, not in another country."

"Sorry, sweetheart." Daryl apologizes as he hands you the bottle, sitting on the edge of the bed to watch his daughter stop crying the moment she feels the bottle against her pretty pink lips. "I closed ma eyes and jus' fell asleep for a minute."

You frown, continuing to stroke Marley's back.

"In a chair? On the counter?"

At the sound of your voice, Daryl's head falls until he almost hits his chest with his own chin, waking up from his light sleep before looking back at you. It's still funny to you how easy it was for him to go without sleep all those years, but after a month with Marley, Daryl considered killing walkers an easier task.

"What? No. Standin’. Didn't know that was even possible."

You shake your head gently, looking away to your baby who is enjoying a meal at 3 in the morning, resting peacefully, just like a princess, in your arms with eyes closed, body relaxed, arms outstretched to pretend to hold the bottle in your hand.

“Even dad can get a nap; you sleep whenever you feel like it… so, where is mom's nap? I mean, I've slept an hour every night since you were born, the room is a mess like us, and my breasts hurt too much."

Daryl chuckles.

"Can't help ya with that, peach. In fact, I think that's exactly what got us into this mess."

"What?"

"Yer boobs." Daryl babbles, smiling wearily, eyes closed as he falls against the edge of the bed, only to stop holding his own weight when he can no longer bear it. “Yer incredible, amazing boobs. They’re amazing and I love ‘em so much, but they were the temptation that brought us… this beautiful gift."

You shrug your shoulders, agreeing with him.

"They are amazing, and she is beautiful when she doesn't cry.”

"That's when I love ‘er the most." Daryl answers, and a second later, you both chuckle in unison.

“Although, it was kind of your fault for wanting to do it without a condom, you horny bastard.”

Daryl chuckles, and because he wasn't used to doing that before you, that tiny sound is endearing.

“Ya regret it?”

"Never." You say with confidence, because you know that he did not regret the decision either. But you laugh quietly, after a while. “But… you know what I was thinking?”

“Um?”

“That this would be a good time to save money so she can go to a good college.” You joke. But Daryl wasn't used to making jokes, so with the help of the moonlight coming through the window, fighting the darkness of the room, he raises himself slightly to look you in the eyes, his brow slightly furrowed. “Jesus, I’m just kidding.”

Daryl chuckles, falling on the bed again, one arm over his eyes.

“Ya think is a good idea if we teach her how to kill walkers when she gets older? Marley could be the new lil’ ass kicker.”

You smile to yourself, because for some reason, your daughter's name on his lips is like sweet honey. And, although you wanted to protect her from that world, the rules had changed, and in order to survive, she was going to have to learn to take care of herself too. Fortunately, it is still too early to think about that.

So, asleep again, you leave Marley in her crib near the bed before returning to it, laying down next to Daryl as he rolls over onto his left side, taking advantage of the time that you still have until the baby wakes up again, just to repeat the cycle you have been living in since Marley was born.

But life still feels good despite the fatigue and the occasional physical pain, because she was everything you never imagined you could have, not in that world, and she, more beautiful than you had ever dreamed of during the wait.

"Thanks, peach." Daryl whispers, so close to you that you can feel his nose against yours, his hand caressing your waist over your shirt, but you're so tired that it takes you a few seconds to gather your strength to respond.

"Why?"

"For our baby, for lovin’ me, for givin’ me a home. Ya two are ma everythin'."

You smiled, sighing.

"You're welcome, love. We are very, very lucky to have you." You say, taking a breath to answer as you look at him: eyes closed, body finally relaxed after having her on his chest most of the day. He is a good dad, the best. "But still, the next turn is yours alone."

Daryl, amused, looks blindly for the warmth of your body to pull you against him, tickling you slightly and that have you both smiling softly despite the absolute exhaustion, a few seconds before you both can fall into a deep sleep, finally.

[maybejj]

The Beginning of Us Part 1

babydaddy!rafe x sweetheart!reader

masterlist

summary: You and Rafe were high school sweethearts that continued into college however Rafe went down the wrong path and you found out you were pregnant. 4 years later finds you and Rafe trying to navigate co-parenting your 3 year old son while overcoming life’s obstacles and past experiences.

warnings: mention of drugs, I think that’s it?

word count: 1.1k

“Mommy look at my tractor!” You hear your three year old son call to you from the other side of the room. You were distracting yourself from the fact Rafe was coming over to pick up Asher, the son you shared.

You turn towards him and gently smile. Asher was a spitting image of his dad. The only thing he inherited from you were your green eyes, everything else was all his father. The dimples, the blonde hair, the little smirk he got on his face right before he was about to do something he shouldn’t, his attitude. God, it was all Rafe. It use to make you emotional after you and Rafe broke it off but you’ve had time to move on. It doesn’t hurt as bad anymore.

“I see your tractor baby. It’s your favorite color.” You grinned at him and he returned it with his own goofy grin. Everything you did these days was to provide for your son. Making sure he had the best of the best and Rafe made sure of it as well. Your relationship with Rafe may have ended but you two try to put your differences aside to take care of Asher.

You and Rafe got together when you were 15. High school sweethearts, the power couple, the relationship everyone envied in high school. You were great together in high school. You were the couple that loved public displays of affection, always all over each other no matter the setting. Rafe was always so attentive to you, always so sweet and caring. You always listened to him and helped him express his emotions and feelings, especially when it came to his dad. There was never any arguing. Disagreements were common in any relationship and you definitely had those but you both never yelled at each other. You would work through any problems calmly to come to a solution. College was a different story.

You both went to UNC Chapel Hill and the first 3 months were unreal. The freedom of moving away from Kildare felt so good. You had your own dorm room, as did Rafe. You were both freshman at the time so your plans to have an apartment together was ruined by the college rules but you still made time for each other. Rafe was studying business, you were studying art. You thought you had the world at your fingertips. That was, until Rafe got into a fraternity. It didn’t take long at all until you noticed the shift in him. The staying out later than normal, lying to you about where he was, going to parties every night, ditching plans with you more often than not. When he did make time to come to your dorm to say sorry for the night before, he smelled like liquor and his eyes were red around the edges. He constantly rubbed his index finger under his nose, almost rubbed raw. He wouldn’t look you in the eyes when he spoke to you. You weren’t stupid, you knew he was getting into stuff he shouldn’t and you told him as such. He immediately would blow up on you saying it was none of your business. It was a never ending cycle that went on for months. One night it become too much when you found two bags of Coke in his truck glove box.

The front door opening pulled you from your thoughts. Rafe entered the apartment with several bags in his hands. Asher immediately dropped his tractor and ran to his father, grabbing onto his pant leg and jumping up and down.

“Hey little man, you look like you’ve been busy today.” Rafe gently smiled down at him while holding the bags in his hands away from the little toddler attached to his leg.

Asher only nodded multiple times and continued hugging his leg. Rafe didn’t move from his spot in the doorway, just gazing down at his son with a soft smile on his face. You watched silently from the other side of the room. Rafe only let his guard fully down around Asher, his son bringing out the best in him. You truly believed Asher was the only thing that saved Rafe from an overdose.

Rafe looked away from his son and met your gaze. The smile left his face and the solemn expression took over again. He nodded in your direction and lifted his hand holding the bags, “Got some stuff from the store I thought you might need.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” You shook your head. Every time he came over he would bring bags of stuff he thought you or Asher might need; baby wipes, deodorant, your favorite shampoo, Asher’s favorite snacks, your favorite candy. He did it every time and every time you told him he didn’t have to do it. Rafe would just give you a flat look, shake his head, and change the subject.

Rafe exhaled softly and said your name which had you swallowing thickly. The way he said your name after all these years still caused butterflies in your stomach.

Asher seemed to be getting bored of not getting attention and detached himself from Rafe’s leg. He reached his chubby hands above his head to grab one of the bags Rafe was holding, “I take it Daddy. I strong for mommy.”

You and Rafe laughed as he took one of the bags and set it on the chair in the living room. Rafe followed Asher’s steps and laid the rest of the bags down for you to go through later.

“You got your bag ready, little man?” Rafe raised his eyebrows in Asher’s direction and the toddler quickly scrambled down the hall to his room. You waited until Asher was out of sight until you turned back to Rafe.

“I know I don’t have to say this but I feel better when I do,” You made eye contact with Rafe. “Please be careful.”

Rafe nodded slightly, raising his hand to run across his jaw. Rafe knew you worried a lot about Asher, he’d gotten better with dealing with it and not getting so frustrated. It use to piss him off because he thought you didn’t trust him with his own son but it was deeper than that. You and Asher had been through a lot and Rafe knew firsthand what it did to you. You knew Rafe would protect Asher with his life, he’d done it before. You just couldn’t help but think about past experiences every time Rafe took him for an outing but you were trying to get better.

“You know we will. I’ll bring him back before dinner.” Rafe promised before you both were interrupted by the bundle of energy barreling through the living room with his Spider-Man backpack dragging behind him.

“Let’s go daddy!” Asher grabbed Rafe’s hand and drug him to the front door. He waved his hand half heartedly in your direction and pulled his father out of the apartment, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Part 2

[dreamwavesexploringreality]

Obsession:

Requested: Niragi x Reader. Platonic crush

TW: Toxic behaviour

Niragi strode into the pool area with firm, deliberate steps. The sun blazed high in the sky, and the festive atmosphere of a warm summer day filled the air. No obligations, no limits—just freedom. Live, drink, laugh, and play. That was Borderlands, at least for him.

He leaned his back against the wall, staking claim to the strategic spot where he could see everything, everyone. Yet his focus wasn’t on the crowd—it was on her.

Across the pool Y/N was talking to another woman, someone he vaguely recognized from one of his fleeting nighttime flings. She smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, giving him a clearer view of her features. Niragi shifted uncomfortably. He watched closely as she leaned toward her friend, whispering something in her ear. Whatever it was must have been hilarious, as both women doubled over in laughter. Another shiver ran through him. He couldn’t stop his fists from clenching at his sides.

Why was she looking at her like that?

Why was she laughing with her?

Why did she seem so comfortable?

Niragi couldn’t pinpoint when she had first caught his attention. Her walk, her gestures, her face—somehow, overnight, she had become a part of his every waking thought. He couldn’t go a day without watching her, without observing her from the shadows, trying to unravel what it was about her that made him tremble, that made him shrink in place when their eyes met from across a room.

He was Niragi. The great and powerful Niragi. The man who parted crowds with his presence, the man no one dared look in the eye. He should be the one to have her at his feet. Not the other way around.

He shook his head, scowling as he caught her glancing in his direction only to look away, indifferent, continuing her conversation with her friend.

Wasn’t it obvious? He was there for her. She was supposed to come to him. He deserved her… not the other way around. But it was as if she didn’t even know he existed. That couldn’t be possible, could it? After all, he was Niragi—everyone knew him.

And yet there he was, standing like an idiot, waiting for her to fall into his arms and failing, once again, miserably. He barely noticed the sun dipping toward the horizon or the crowd beginning to thin out. Then he saw her stand, brushing off her legs. His breath caught in his throat, and his muscles tensed as she began walking with her friend in his direction.

He tried to appear casual, leaning against the wall and ignoring the ache in his legs from standing so long. Crossing his arms over his chest, he fixed his gaze on her.

She passed by him like a fleeting breeze on a sweltering summer day. And then she was gone, disappearing into the building.

No glance.

No greeting.

No smile.

Nothing.

None of her actions were meant for him.

A fire ignited inside him, and in that moment, everything became clear. He didn’t know what had drawn him to her. Maybe it was her subtle movements, her calm presence amid the chaos of The Beach, her gestures, her smile, her light…

With a growl, he straightened, pushing off the wall. She had become his obsession. And he hated it.

But she would be his.

With an arrogant smirk, he started toward the hotel. If she wouldn’t notice him willingly, he would make sure he was the only thing she could think about. No matter what.

© 2025 [@dreamwavesexploringreality]

[amiya-shirou]

I love how despite the Seaborn having a very minor role during Exodus from the Pale Sea their presence is still embedded so deeply in every facet of the story. I don't just mean how they're the reason the Pale Sea exists or how one of them appears in the event, but also the way they affect the themes of the story, which applies the Human Individuality vs Seaborn Collective conflict we've already explored in the Abyssal Hunter events to a tale where every part is played by humans.

There's something in the way Anastasio stands against any and all desires, almost word for word quoting Arturia as something that should be fought against at all costs. The way Arturia in turn thought of the Seaborn as boring because they lacked that desire. The way the citizens in this story are so scared of desire, how they fell so deeply on the Inquisition's teachings to survive and try to forget the horror they lived through that even now that much of the danger has passed and the conditions are better they still dare not fill their bellies even if there's food, they dare not buy something that might look fun from the caravans, they dare not wish for anything for themselves, almost every ounce of individuality they once had completely destroyed to the point that when Silver tried lifting the bans and letting them live a better life they couldn't accept it and wanted the prohibitions to come back, readily switching side to Anastasio to get back that familiar sense of comfort and stability the rules gave them even if they had long exhausted their material purpose. The very Inquisition that's so hellbent on eradicating the Seaborn from the land while making speeches about the superiority of human civilization ended up turning the people they swore to protect in something that's not so different from them, or even fully ready to join We Many as seen in other events with the way the Church of the Deep is able to pray on the discontent of the Iberians.

But as Deepcolor once noted in her operator record, it's impossible to completely eradicate your humanity, just like the Priest she talks to couldn't fully become Seaborn due to his curiosity or she couldn't become one because of her artistic passion, and in fact if you look at the conditions of both the citizens and Anastasio, they're all just guided by fear. After all the Seaborn have no concept of guilt or sinning, they're just driven by the instinct to keep the collective going and any of them would readily sacrifice itself for the others and they're shown wanting to free their kin even as they're actively being killed by them - meanwhile Silver trying to help the city by reforming the pirates and making some compromises so that everyone could live better is met by Anastasio with disdain, because his teachings don't allow for real forgiveness except for the one given by death, no matter if "the collective" has to live a life of misery because of it. He values peace of mind above the physical well being of the people in a way that's the farthest you could ever get from We Many, but the way he gets it is by violently eradicating the core difference between us and them. He seeks the embrace of death, deeply mythologizing it like a human would, while being driven by an incredibly powerful directive to live on like a Seaborn would, straight up coming back from the death three times. He's a walking contradiction, and when the event ends with him literally being shown as a mix of both, everything falls into pieces. It's a tale about how self-destructive repressing your wishes and individuality and trying to force everyone to adhere to a single doctrine - trying to live as a seaborn while being human - is.

And of course the final touch is how well all this works as a premise for Arknights to make a story about pirates, because of course even if they're not actual good guys and in fact very violent and did plenty of bad things on screen, they'll forever be a great stand-in for the concept of seeking freedom and following what your heart desires (and in fact the whole plot revolved around the Corazonix, one side wishing for what it promised, the other believing it only brings corruption). Juana and her crew are the other extreme to the Inquisition in the city, people solely guided by their desires to the point they become destructive, and while we had to fight both sides during the event, the final resolution is about accepting them as shown with Thorns's very simple wish that guides him to victory against Anastasio - he just wants to see the ocean. The story ends with the beginning of a straightforward pirate story with Isidro and his fun band of misfits going on an adventure, re-contextualized in a setting where the Profound Silence had long since suffocated any notion of dreaming about the future, any notion of the sea as something you want to admire and explore rather than a place of horror and death as it's always been presented in Arknights up until now.

It's neat.