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aleksatia · 3 months ago

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Imagine the six days scenario with the boys, but it turns out the mission was supposed to be done in one day, and the reader went through he'll to get out and is met with this reaction? Imagine when she finally tells the reason she was away, would they regret their actions? How would they react? Don't know if if you take requests, if you do, consider this one.

If not, I am glad I got to read this masterpiece, thank you ❤️

Thank you so much for the request — I absolutely do take them, and I really appreciate this one! ❤️

I tried so hard to keep it short, since the “Six Days” theme has already been thoroughly explored... but, well, I failed spectacularly 😅 So here’s another deep-dive into a what-if/imagine scenario — one that can be read as either an alternate branch of the original storyline or... something else entirely. I’ll let you decide 😉

I’d love to hear your thoughts if you read it — truly means the world to me!

I’ve received so many requests for continuations — especially for Xavier — and yes, his already has a full-length, dramatic follow-up (because how could I not?). This one here is more of a request-based scenario, but it can absolutely be read as its own kind of continuation. Think of it as an alternate path the story could have taken. (One day I’ll write full versions for all the boys… but for now, consider this a little taste.) Hope you enjoy — and as always, I’d love to hear what you think! 💬💔 Here are the links to the previous parts in the series, in case you want to revisit or catch up:

Original Post | Xavier's Story

CW/TW: Psychological trauma, PTSD themes, Forced isolation, Violence / combat injuries, Mentions of starvation, Emotional manipulation, Past emotional abuse, Mental breakdowns, Intense guilt / self-blame, Brief implications of suicidal ideation (in self-sacrificing context), Adult intimacy (emotionally driven, not graphic)

The Truth — What Really Happened

It was supposed to be one day.

A clean, strategic infiltration. In and out. No complications. No room for error.

But no one accounted for the Wanderer.

No one predicted that the target—some nameless, faceless shade masquerading as a rogue—would be more than just dangerous. That he'd found a way to twist Protocore into something ancient and volatile. That he would trigger a fracture in time itself.

In a single blink, the world split. You fell into it. And the loop began.

Six days for them. Six weeks for you.

You lived, died, and bled your way through the same endless day.

Again. And again. And again.

Locked in a cycle of violence, decay, and despair—while everyone else moved on without you.

You clawed your way back—half-starved, half-mad, barely remembering your name. And when you finally escaped the loop, stepped back into their world, broken and still breathing—

They were waiting.

Angry. Unforgiving. And utterly, terrifyingly unaware.

Until now. Until you tell them.

💛 Xavier

It only felt right to write Xavier’s piece after the continuation I posted earlier. The original scene stood strong on its own, but this one—this is what came next. The moment after the storm. The truth laid bare. A quiet, alternate branch of the story, or perhaps a natural consequence of the one that already unfolded. Either way—I’m glad it found its voice.

You don’t ease into it. You sit across from him in the quiet of the morning, sunlight creeping up the walls like it’s unsure of its welcome, and you tell him.

Not six days.

Six weeks.

A loop. A fracture in time. An engineered nightmare that left you bleeding against the same hours, over and over, clawing through shadow just to return to him. Alone. Lost. Dying.

Xavier doesn’t speak. Doesn’t even blink.

But something in him breaks.

Not loudly. Not violently. It’s quieter than breath. Slower than thought. His fingers slip from the edge of the cup in his hand, and it falls. Shatters against the floor with a sound so sharp it startles the silence—ceramic shards skittering like teeth across stone.

Still, he doesn’t look at you.

He stands, but not with purpose. With instinct. His body moves before his mind can catch it. He turns, walks toward the far wall like he’s searching for air, like the room is suddenly too small to hold what’s happening inside his chest.

You rise—hesitant, aching—but he lifts a hand to stop you. Not cruelly. Gently. Like he’s afraid that if you touch him, he’ll fall apart in a way he can’t recover from.

He presses his palm to the wall. Just one. The other curls into a fist at his side.

“I thought you abandoned me,” he says at last, voice raw in a way you’ve never heard from him. “And I punished you for it.”

He turns back.

And there’s nothing left of the man who told you to ask again in six days. Nothing of the controlled strategist, the ever-collected ghost of war. His jaw is clenched too tight. His eyes are glassed over with fury—but not at you.

At himself.

“I accused you. I mocked you. I dismissed what little strength you had left and threw my pain in your face like it was the only thing that mattered.”

He crosses the room again, slower now. Purposeful. His hands don’t tremble, but his voice does.

“I let you stand there, in front of me, broken... and I thought I was the one who’d suffered.”

He kneels.

Not dramatically. Not for effect.

He lowers himself before you like a man who no longer believes he has the right to stand. His gaze stays down. One hand reaches inside his coat, and when it returns, you see it:

A blade.

Polished. Ritual-cut. Ceremonial. One of the old ones—etched with language you don’t recognize. But you understand that these words mean oath, atonement, belonging.

He offers it to you in silence. Flat in his palm.

“Where I’m from,” he says, quietly, “a wound like this is paid in blood. A betrayal like mine is not survived—it is surrendered to.”

Your hands don’t move. Your breath barely does.

“If you want justice,” he whispers, “take it.”

You stare at him. The weight of the blade between you. The weight of everything.

And then—slowly, gently—you take it from his hand.

Only to let it fall.

The sound is soft this time. Barely a whisper of steel on floorboards.

Then you fall with it.

You drop to your knees in front of him, wrap your arms around his shoulders, and let your tears fall freely.

“I don’t want justice,” you breathe into the curve of his neck. “I want you.”

He doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t speak. Just holds you, arms banding around your waist, face pressed into your shoulder like he’s trying to memorize what survival feels like.

When he finally speaks, it’s not confession. It’s surrender.

“After what you endured… after what I made you endure alone… I don’t know what anything means anymore. Not the mission. Not the cause. Not the point.”

You pull back, just enough to see him.

His eyes are hollow with grief. But deeper still—something flickers.

“I thought I understood devotion,” he says, voice barely above a breath. “But I was wrong. What I gave you wasn’t loyalty. It wasn’t love. It was pride. Control. Fear, dressed in logic. And I used it to wound you when you were already bleeding.”

His jaw tightens. His gaze falls.

“I was cruel.”

It’s not said for effect. There’s no tremble in his voice, no self-indulgent break.

It’s simply true.

“And I’m sorry.”

The silence that follows is soft. Dense. Not empty.

You brush your fingers across his cheek, tilt his face toward yours.

“I forgive you,” you say. Steady. Clear. “Because not everything in this world is black and white. And I understand why you did what you did. I know the shape of your fear.”

Your thumb brushes beneath his eye. His breath catches.

“I didn’t tell you to hurt you. Or to punish you. I told you because…” You pause. Your voice thickens with truth. “Because you’re the only one I trust with all of it. The only one who would understand. Who wouldn’t fall apart under the weight of what I’ve lived through.”

You lean forward.

Kiss him. Gently. Not desperate. Not demanding.

Just there. Warm. Real. Home.

Your hands slide up to his temples, fingers massaging slow circles at his hairline, coaxing the tightness from his brow. You feel it—inch by inch—how he softens beneath your touch.

“Let it go,” you whisper. “Don’t carry this weight. Not for me.”

He exhales, shaky. Silent.

You hold him tighter.

“You are my light, Xavier. You illuminate the path. You anchor me when everything else turns to ash. And in that place—those six weeks—do you know what kept me alive?”

Your voice breaks, but you keep going.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of you mourning me. That’s what kept me breathing.”

He says nothing for a moment.

Just rests his forehead against yours. One hand moves to your chest, flattening over your heart like he’s grounding himself with your pulse.

Then—softly, firmly, as if carving the words into stone:

“You will never carry pain alone again. Not while I draw breath.”

No grand vow. No poetry.

Just fact.

And somehow—that’s what makes it a promise.

💗 Rafayel

The morning sun slips in like melted gold, tracing the edge of the sheets, catching the soft arch of your cheekbone. You lie half-curled beneath the covers, his T-shirt clinging to your body like second skin.

And in that sacred hush before the world stirs—you speak.

Not because he demands it. Not because you owe it.

But because somewhere between the echo of his heartbeat and the way his arms wrapped around you like the only anchor you had left—you remembered how to breathe.

You tell him.

About the mission. The Wanderer. The fracture in time.

About the loop.

How six days for him were six weeks for you.

How you woke up every day inside the same nightmare. How you died. How you clawed your way back. Alone. Over and over.

And when you fall silent, your voice scraped raw from remembering—he still doesn’t speak.

He just looks at you.

Like the sun never rose until he saw your face again.

His hand brushes your cheek, feather-light. His voice—when it comes—is almost a whisper.

“Are you ready to share the rest?”

You blink. “The rest?”

“The weight of it,” he says. “Not the facts. Not the fight. The dark. The ache. The part that still won’t let you sleep.”

His voice is gentle. Too gentle for a man like him. It trembles with caution, as if even asking is a violation.

You hesitate. The memories flicker like shadows across your mind—distorted, aching, sharp.

“No,” you answer truthfully. “Maybe not ever.”

His gaze doesn’t falter.

He nods once. No protest. No press.

Then his voice, lighter this time—almost a whisper:

“Then I’ll just have to help you forget.”

And he does.

He lifts you carefully, as if your body might shatter beneath his hands. You expect the weight of a blanket, but instead—he wraps you in something else entirely.

A covering like seafoam. It feels like nothing you’ve ever touched—gossamer, weightless, but cool and smooth against your skin. A whisper of silk and tide.

“It's from home,” he murmurs, adjusting it carefully over your shoulders. “Woven from the ocean’s first breath. They say it keeps sorrow out.”

Then—he scoops you up like you weigh nothing. Carries you to the kitchen with quiet reverence, as if this moment is sacred.

He sets you down on the marble countertop and kisses your knee.

Then he starts making coffee.

He hums as he moves—something aimless and tuneless and purely him. You close your eyes for a moment, letting the scent of roasted beans and vanilla settle around you.

And then—

“So,” he says casually, not looking up, “a cat broke into the studio last night.”

You blink. “A cat?”

He nods solemnly. “Orange. Loud. Looked like he owned the place. Knocked over three canvases and nearly drank my turpentine.”

You raise a brow. “And naturally, you assumed this was my doing.”

“Who else would weaponize cuteness to such chaotic effect?”

You laugh—quiet but real. “I’m not that cruel.”

“No,” he agrees, turning to face you with a soft smile. “But I do suspect you’re still hoping I’ll change my mind about cats.”

You sip your coffee. “I might be.”

Later, the bath is warm, the water laced with something lavender and soft. He sits behind you, your back pressed to his chest, his arms a steady weight around your ribs.

His fingers move slowly—massaging your shoulders, your forearms, your palms, like he’s trying to erase every echo of pain from your body with touch alone.

You both talk, but nothing heavy. Just stories. Old memories. Little things. The shape of the moon that night. The smell of burnt sugar in his favorite gallery. How he once mistook a mannequin for a person and apologized to it for five minutes.

You laugh again, softer this time. And it makes something in him melt.

He wraps you in the softest robe he can find. Carries you again—this time to the bedroom. The ocean glows outside, waves catching the last of the sun like pearls tossed across the horizon.

But he doesn’t stop there.

“Come,” he says, offering a hand. “Tea. Sunset. Company far superior to mine.”

You smile. Follow.

And when you step onto the veranda—there it is.

A small white basket. A red ribbon.

And inside—

A snow-colored kitten, curled like a pearl in a nest, blinking up at you with impossibly blue eyes.

You freeze.

Turn to him, wide-eyed.

He shrugs, just slightly. Nervous. Like he’s bracing himself for mockery. For rejection.

You blink again. “You—Raf, you hate cats.”

He exhales through his nose. “I fear them. Different thing.”

Your eyes shimmer.

He moves toward you slowly, hands lifted in surrender.

“I wanted to make you smile,” he says simply. “That’s all. Just—smile. Like you used to. Before I—” He swallows.

He crouches down before you. One hand comes up to gently stroke the kitten. The other finds your knee.

His eyes lift to yours—and there’s no performance left in him now. Just Rafayel. Just the man beneath the glitter.

“I was so awful to you.”

You open your mouth, but he shakes his head.

“Don’t say it wasn’t that bad. I know what I am when I’m scared. I threw wine over grief and laughter over longing because I didn’t know what else to do. I ruined canvases with your name on my tongue and strangers in my house, and the whole time—I just wanted you to walk through that door.”

His fingers tighten on your leg.

“And when you did—when you came back—I was so full of rage at the idea you’d left me, that I didn’t even ask if you were okay.”

He breathes. One hand comes up, presses lightly to your ankle.

“I don’t know if I deserve this. Any of it. You. The right to hold your hand. To be the one who touches you when you’re tired. Who makes you laugh. Who paints your name into the ocean.”

You slide your fingers into his curls, threading gently through the soft waves.

And he stills. Like he’s afraid to move.

You whisper, “I never wanted perfect. I wanted you.”

He exhales.

“I swear,” he says, softly now, firmly, “on every color I’ve ever touched—never again. I’ll never put my pride above your heart. I’ll never leave you alone in the dark I made.”

Then—he leans forward. Presses his forehead to your knee.

The kitten meows softly, curling into the basket.

And finally—you smile.

Because this?

This is home.

💙 Zayne

You expected something.

A tremor. A breath. A word. Anything.

Instead, Zayne listened. Like a doctor reviewing a chart. Like a man auditing loss.

He didn’t speak when you finished. He simply nodded—once—and turned away, reaching for the drawer by the bedside as though the moment hadn’t cracked the very floor beneath his feet.

His hands, always precise, always godlike in their stillness, carried a faint tremble now. Just at the edges. So minor you might’ve doubted your own eyes, if you didn’t know how obsessively exact they always were.

“I asked,” he said, adjusting a monitor. His voice was quiet. Neutral. Not for you—for himself. “I asked if you’d caught a cold.”

He finished adjusting the drip, typed something into the tablet. Still no eye contact. Still no softness in his voice. But the line of his shoulders was off. A degree too low. A breath too far from centered.

Then—he turned back to you.

His gaze met yours at last. And though his voice didn’t change, the words did.

“I would like to conduct a full diagnostic. Neurological, cellular, metabolic.” A pause. Then softer, with exquisite restraint: “Please allow me.”

You hesitated—not because you doubted him, but because you recognized the plea underneath the logic. He wasn’t doing this for the data. Not really.

You nodded.

And he breathed again.

He worked in silence. Gentle. Thorough. Every sensor placed with hands that barely touched your skin. Each test executed with a reverence that spoke more than words ever could. He treated you like something sacred—something already broken that could not, must not, fracture further.

When sleep finally came, it swallowed you whole.

And when you opened your eyes again—the world was still. Dim. The sterile light of early morning filtered through the blinds.

Zayne sat in the chair beside your bed. Unmoved.

He hadn’t changed clothes.

The same shirt. The same faint stain near the cuff from yesterday’s blood draw. One elbow rested on the arm of the chair, his fingers curved over his mouth, gaze lost in some calculation too heavy for paper.

When he noticed you stir, his posture didn’t shift. But his eyes warmed—just barely. Just enough.

“I cancelled my procedures for the week,” he said simply. “Transferred patients to colleagues. For now, my only case is you.”

You blinked, silent. Then your gaze drifted down, to the low table by the bedside.

There, lined with the kind of hesitant care that comes from someone unused to gifts, sat a modest row of familiar things. A bouquet of white jasmine, fresh and fragrant. Two of your favorite candies in delicate wrappers. And—absurdly, heartbreakingly—three new plush toys, small and soft and so clearly chosen by someone who’d spent an agonizing amount of time in the gift shop second-guessing every decision.

Your heart folded inward.

“Am I dying?” you asked, quieter than you meant to.

He didn’t smile.

But his voice, when it came, was soft and absolute.

“I won’t allow that.”

A long silence passed.

Then you shifted—carefully, your muscles aching—and reached for him.

“Come here,” you murmured.

For a moment, he hesitated. Not because he didn’t want to, but because some part of him still didn’t believe he deserved the invitation. But he came. And when he lay beside you on the narrow couch, his body held a tension that didn’t ease until your head rested on his shoulder.

He stayed still. Let you move first. Let you curl against him the way you needed. His hand hovered over your back, uncertain, until you nudged it gently into place.

Only then did he hold you.

Not tightly.

Not desperately.

But with the kind of quiet conviction that said he would stay as long as it took.

You felt his breath in your hair before you heard his voice.

“I don’t pray,” he said, low, clinical as ever. “I believe in medicine. In numbers. In protocols.”

A pause. His fingers brushed your spine, feather-light.

“But if you hadn’t come back... I would’ve made an exception.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to.

Because some things, even with Zayne, are understood in silence.

And in that silence, held against the rhythm of his heartbeat, you felt it clearly: you were no longer his patient.

You were his entire world.

❤️ Sylus

For a moment after you speak, the room holds its breath. So does he.

Sylus doesn’t ask questions. Doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t demand proof or press for detail. He simply stands there, stone-still, with your words unraveling him from the inside out. The way you say it—quiet, unshaking, without accusation—is somehow worse than if you’d screamed.

His gaze drifts over you then, and you feel the moment the veil lifts.

It’s in his eyes first—how they widen, flicker, and fixate. He takes in the shadows beneath yours, the pallor of your skin, the hollowness in your cheeks. His breath catches when he sees how your clothes hang looser than before. How your hands tremble faintly, barely perceptible unless one knows you too well.

And Sylus knows you.

His chest rises once, sharp and shallow. Then he moves.

Not fast. Not sudden.

But with purpose.

The next second, he’s in front of you, reaching—his fingers brush your jaw, feather-light, as if afraid that even the weight of his touch might bruise. He doesn’t speak as he leads you gently—gently, from a man whose hands have broken bones—into the nearest chair. One knee hits the ground beside you. He opens your jacket with slow precision, not to expose, but to check. To see. To know.

“You’ve lost weight,” he murmurs, voice rough and uneven, like gravel sliding beneath steel. His fingers glide down your arm, finding the sharp edges of bone where softness used to be. “Why didn’t I see it sooner?”

You try to speak, but he shakes his head, already rising.

He moves through the room like a storm with no wind—silent, but charged. Opens drawers. Pulls out clean clothes, a blanket, a glass of water. Then he’s back at your side, crouching again, one arm draped over your lap like a bridge between his fury and your exhaustion.

His hand wraps gently around your ankle, thumb pressing lightly against the bone there as he stares at it like it personally accuses him.

“I told them to take you.” His voice is lower now. Hoarse. “Told them to scare you. Make a point.”

He looks up at you. And for once, his face is completely unguarded.

“I hit you.”

It wasn’t hard. It wasn’t brutal. Not for someone like him.

But it was enough.

His voice falters, only slightly.

“And then I said I wouldn’t look for you.”

He exhales, and it’s not a breath—it’s a confession.

“That was the worst one, wasn’t it?” he asks. “Out of all of it. That’s the one that stayed.”

Your silence says enough.

And something in him breaks again—quietly, like a structure folding inward with no one left to hold it up. His forehead presses lightly to your knee, his arm tightening around your thigh. You feel him breathe you in, like scent alone might bring you back from the half-place you escaped.

“I should’ve known the second I touched you that something was wrong. I should’ve seen it on your face.” His voice cracks, just once. “But I was so angry. So fucking angry I couldn’t feel anything but the space where you weren’t.”

He pulls back. Looks at you again—slowly, steadily. And something inside him hardens, not with rage, but resolution.

“You’re not lifting a hand again. Not for food. Not for water. Not for anything. I don’t care how long it takes. I don’t care what it costs. You’re going to rest, and I’m going to fix this—you—with my own hands, piece by piece.”

And when he stands, it’s not the usual slow menace or calculated power.

It’s reverent.

He lifts you—not like someone injured. Like something sacred. And when he carries you out of the room, wrapped in warmth and silence, there is no doubt in your mind:

Sylus will not let go again.

Not even if time itself tries to take you.

💜 Caleb

You aren’t even halfway through when it hits him.

Not like a punch. Not like a wound.

Like an organ failing.

He blinks once. Twice. And then nothing. No movement. No breath. Just silence.

Then, quietly—almost absently—he mutters, “I’ll resign.”

You look up, startled, and the absurdity punches out of you in a short, cracked laugh.

It’s the wrong moment. Too sharp, too bitter. But it slices through the tension like a scalpel.

And still—he doesn't move.

His hands press against the table, white-knuckled. Not to steady himself—he isn’t swaying. He’s rigid. Locked. Like something in him has calcified to hold him upright.

“I’m not fit to lead,” he says, voice flat, low, scorched. “Not when I see betrayal in the only person I’ve ever trusted.”

Whatever breath of amusement you had left dissolves instantly.

“I didn’t just fail as someone who was supposed to protect you,” he adds. “I failed as your—” He stops. Chokes it down. His jaw clenches so hard you can hear the sound of his teeth grinding. “As your Caleb.”

And then—he moves.

Quick, purposeful. Gone in a flash. You hear the kettle filling, the sharp click of a drawer, the dull thud of something fragile hitting the counter too hard. The way he clutches at control would be laughable if it weren’t so violent.

Then the bathwater starts.

Hot. Too hot. He’s not measuring anything. Just pouring. He throws open the cabinet, snatches towels, drops one, curses.

When he returns—his phone is in hand. “I’ll call Dr. Navik. I want a full neurocardiac scan, and we need to rule out—”

He stops. Mid-sentence. Thumb poised over the screen.

You don’t say a word. You just watch as something slows in him. As if time, for once, is merciful.

He lowers the phone. Turns toward you.

His voice—when it comes—isn't clipped or cold or distant. It's frighteningly gentle.

“Pip-squeak.”

He kneels before you, as if he’s afraid standing over you might shatter what little is left between you.

When he reaches out, it’s so slow. So reverent. The back of his fingers graze your cheekbone, barely there. Not because he doubts you—but because he doubts himself.

“How do you actually feel?” he whispers. “Not what I can fix. Not what the scans will say. Just you.”

You breathe. Only once. It shakes.

“Like roadkill,” you murmur. Then softer, almost smiling: “A hot bath wouldn’t hurt. And sleep. Maybe a week of it.”

Your faint attempt at a smile breaks him.

Not loudly. Not outwardly. He doesn’t cry. But something in his face folds in on itself, like it’s suddenly too heavy to wear. He draws a slow, trembling breath.

“I accused you,” he says, and now his voice is wrong. Hoarse. Quiet. Dismantled. “I accused you of being with someone else. After you went through six weeks of hell.”

You try to speak. He doesn’t let you.

“I thought you left me,” he says, and this time his voice cracks—just barely, but it’s there. A faultline in steel. His eyes are on the floor now, unfocused, as if he’s speaking to ghosts.

“I believed you would.”

His breath falters, like the truth is costing him oxygen.

“That it made sense. That I wasn’t enough.”

A pause. His throat works hard around the next words.

“Or worse—too much.”

His hand curls into a fist against his thigh, knuckles white. Not from anger. From restraint. From the effort not to collapse under the weight of everything he’s never said.

“That you’d finally find someone who doesn’t smother you with love that borders on obsession.”

He shifts, like his own skin is too tight. His jaw clenches. His eyes squeeze shut for half a second before he forces them open again, forces himself to keep looking at you—even if it kills him.

“Someone who wouldn’t try to chain you close,” he whispers, “just because he’s too selfish to breathe without you.”

He looks at you now��really looks—and the devastation in his gaze is endless.

His voice breaks on the last word.

“Someone who wasn’t… me.”

And for a moment, he’s not a soldier. Not a leader. Not even a man.

He’s just Caleb. That boy who loved you before he had language for it. And who never stopped. Even when it ruined him.

His hands curl into fists against his knees.

“I interrogated you. Like a stranger. Like a traitor. And all the while you were trapped—alone, dying, fighting—and I was worried about your silence in my bed.”

A breath. And another. Like he’s drowning in air.

“I loved you before I even knew what that word meant,” he whispers. “I carried it for years, swallowed it, starved it. I told myself it was wrong. Forbidden. And the moment I finally had you—really had you—I destroyed it with my own hands.”

He doesn’t look at you. Not until your fingers find his.

Then he shudders. And looks up.

“You always forgave me,” he says, voice breaking now. “Even when I didn’t deserve it. But this time… if you don’t. If you can’t…”

His hand trembles in yours.

“…I’ll understand.”

You shake your head. Just once.

And in that second—he folds into you, arms curling around your waist, forehead pressed to your stomach like a prayer he doesn’t believe he deserves to say out loud.

When he finally carries you to the bath, it’s not in silence. He keeps murmuring things—small things, promises, broken confessions, names only he calls you. He doesn’t try to be strong. He only tries to be there.

And when you’re finally in bed again, drowsy and warm, you find him already beside you. Fully clothed, facing the ceiling, his hand resting on the sheets between you like a lifeline.

You whisper his name.

He turns his head, eyes dim in the dark.

You reach for him, and he comes to you instantly, without hesitation. He lies down beside you, and when you press your head to his chest, he exhales like it’s the first real breath he’s taken in years.

His hand strokes your hair once.

And then, quiet—so quiet it almost isn’t real—

“I’ll never be the same.”

You don’t respond.

Because you both know it’s true.

And because you both know he doesn’t want to be.

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edenesth · 7 months ago

Text

By Order of the Black Pirates

An 'Ice On My Teeth' Comeback Special Series

"N-No, please! Spare me! I was wrong! I swear I'll never do it again!" The man's voice cracked as he grovelled on the damp ground, tears carving paths through the grime on his face. His trembling hands offered up the tiny diamond he'd been foolish enough to steal—his last-ditch effort to appease the eight figures towering over him like shadows of death.

He'd heard the whispers, the warnings: Never cross the Black Pirates. Never touch what belongs to them. Never even think of betrayal. Yet greed had blinded him. Now, staring into their cold, merciless eyes, he knew his regret was far too late.

The leader of the gang stepped forward, a smirk tugging at his lips as he tilted his head, studying the pitiful man like a cat sizing up a doomed mouse. "Didn't I ask you to screen these rats better?" he drawled, casting a sideways glance at the eldest among them before shifting his focus back to their prey. "No time to waste. Finish him."

A low chuckle echoed through the tension-filled night as the gang's usual executioner, a broad-shouldered figure clad in his signature fur coat, stepped forward, his grin as sharp as the blade in his hand.

"Sorry, buddy," he mused, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "This will be the night you take your final breath—by order of the Black fuckin' Pirates."

ـــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ

Watching the harrowing scene from a distance stood a figure with crossed arms, his voice low as he muttered to his right-hand, "Every man has a weakness. Find the Black Pirates', and we'll knock them off their high horses."

"And if they have none, sir?"

The figure's lips curled into a dark smile. "Then we'll make sure they do."

Pairing(s): gang members!ateez x fem!reader

AU: gang au

Summary: One by one, the Black Pirates uncover their greatest weakness. But when the cracks begin to show, will they stand firm or let their vulnerabilities bring their empire to its knees?

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Trigger Warnings: violence, torture, abuse, blood, murder, language, contains dark themes in general

A/N: Credits to the wonderful @sundaybossanova for giving me the idea of something Peaky Blinders inspired. Thank you so much and ily💖

**Dearest readers, please note that all chapters are interconnected. You're advised to read them in order.

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

Hongjoong

‣ The Captain

The Captain of the Black Pirates—respected, feared, and unmatched in strategy—lives by his sharp mind and unshakable resolve. But his carefully constructed world begins to crumble when a grave mistake leads him to torture an innocent suspect nearly to death. Haunted by guilt, his quest for redemption takes an unexpected turn, awakening a part of him he never thought existed: a desire to protect and care for someone.

Seonghwa

‣ The Gentleman

The Black Pirates' poised diplomat, celebrated for his refined demeanour, sharp wit, and unmatched negotiation skills, is always in control. But his composure falters when he encounters an unwilling captive trapped in the Red Room—a ruthless training ground for spies. Driven by an unexpected urge to save her, he finds his carefully maintained boundaries beginning to unravel.

Yunho

‣ The Enforcer

The towering enforcer of the Black Pirates, both disarming and deadly—his easy charm capable of winning over enemies, while his legendary fury dominates the battlefield. But his unbreakable facade begins to crack when he meets a psychologist during a mission—someone who can see through his carefully crafted mask, just as he can see through hers. Beneath her confident exterior lies a frightened soul lost in a dark world, and for the first time, he finds himself compelled to protect someone in a way he never expected.

Yeosang

‣ The Phantom [Coming soon]

Mysterious and elusive, the Black Pirates' intelligence expert is known for his sharp instincts and unparalleled skill in espionage and reconnaissance. But when he crosses paths with a woman who surpasses him in both skill and wit for the first time, his confidence begins to waver. As she outsmarts him at every turn, he finds himself unexpectedly drawn to her, eagerly anticipating each challenge—because the thrill of being near her is something he never expected to crave.

San

‣ The Tempest [Coming soon]

The Black Pirates' most unpredictable force is a whirlwind of fiery passion and unbridled energy—always the first to leap into action when chaos erupts. But his world tilts when he stumbles upon a woman who, unlike his victims who always begged to live, is on the brink of ending her own life. Upon discovering she's terminally ill, he finds himself gripped by an unfamiliar and urgent desire to save her, igniting a battle within himself unlike anything he's ever faced.

Mingi

‣ The Firestarter [Coming soon]

The Black Pirates' wild card is notorious for his fiery temper and even more explosive schemes—a dangerous yet irresistibly charming presence. But his confidence takes a hit when one of his near-disastrous plans is salvaged by an unlikely passerby: a composed and resourceful former aristocrat, exiled and stripped of her wealth, now navigating the world's harsh realities. Her icy demeanour and unshakable poise captivate him, leaving the ever-impulsive man unexpectedly drawn to her.

Wooyoung

‣ The Charmer [Coming soon]

The Black Pirates' negotiator and master of distractions is renowned for his confidence and flirtatious charm, which can sway almost anyone. But his ego is severely wounded when he encounters the loyal bodyguard of a high-profile target, someone completely immune to his usual tricks, during a high-stakes mission. Frustrated by his failure yet captivated by her unwavering resolve, he finds himself unable to stay away, drawn to the challenge—and to her—in ways he never expected.

Jongho

‣ The Anchor [Coming soon]

The steadfast foundation of the Black Pirates is renowned for his unfaltering strength and calm under pressure. As the gang's moral compass and protector, he's always put duty above all else. But when a rival gang's attack threatens the life of their kind-hearted hired doctor, he begins to realise that his priorities extend beyond just his brothers. Torn between his loyalty to the gang and his growing feelings for her, he faces an agonising choice: protect his family or save her.

Voila, my loves! As promised, I finally managed to come up with a little something for this comeback teehee. I hope you're as excited about this as I am! Truthfully, I just returned from a 10-day trip in Shanghai and am back to work on Monday already - which means I might not be able to write much until the following weekend but I will do my best to get the parts out ASAP!

Super excited to hear your thoughts on the concept! Do let me know which member's summary enticed you the most!✨ and of course, just leave a comment if you'd like to be tagged for when the parts are released!

General ATEEZ Tag list:

@aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01

@evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho

@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline

@sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid @tinyteezer @hollxe1

@pandabur666 @vampzity @tournesol155 @lilactangerine @oddracha

@haven-cove @idfkeddieishot @vic0921 @vnessalau @apriecotte

@bangtannie7 @vtyb23 @khjoongie98 @scuzmunkie @anxiousskylar

@bunny4yungi @zl-world @bethelighthalazia @tsunchani

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR OTHERWISE REPURPOSE ANY OF THE WORK HERE.

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janecafe · 2 months ago

Text

future spouse's pac: the first moment they say "i love you" to you

uno - dos

tres - kwatro

paid reading is available here

masterlist

©janecafe 2025

˚⊱🍀⊰˚

₊˚ʚ 𝐔𝐍𝐎 🪅 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

i don't know how to start with this reading. seems like an argument will lead at the beginning before they will say those words. i think this is gonna be a conversation where the two of you are conversing whether this connection is worth taking a risk. it's a conversation about family, career and love. it's like you are very goal-driven and career-oriented where you will explain to them to wait because you are pursuing your dreams. the debate is here. the intersperse of beliefs and so on. and they will snapped between the argument telling you---"that's bullshit! you know we are meant to be from the day we met until now. you know that i love you and i always do".

i don't think this was the first time they say that they love you but for you this is the first time, you feel that their affection is no joke. this is the time where you're gonna feel it really deeper than the other i love you's they said to you. they want you to stop controlling your emotions and let it burst as if in a begging tone. they want you to put the trust in them that it's only you in their heart.

★ check the previous pac

₊˚ʚ 𝐃𝐎𝐒 🪅 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

wanna read a funny story? well the first time they will tell you those words is the time when you are having conversation about work or class. it seems like they learn these 8 letters of words from another and different language and try to give it a shot by saying it towards you at that time and your response, will be like "huh?, what did you just say?" asking in a very confusing expression and they're gonna segway it by simply ignoring what you'd ask to them by continuing "you should be cautious about what other people are telling you so you can catch up immediately".

but here's the catch (don't tell them i told you this please, okay 😉👍🏻) you will able to watch the shyness on their face and actions like they can't look at you in the eyes. they can't hold eye contacts and will be frantic in every activity they gonna do. but what's even more funnier for me is that bringing those words out sounds a relieving feeling to them. as if it was a feeling that they already pushed out a big shit on the toilet. in another theme, you are just gonna know about it.

★ check the previous pac

₊˚ʚ 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒 🪅 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

this is something profoundly sweet. the first time they are gonna say it to you is through text messages. you may have interaction and may be in a talking stage era at this time and they are just gonna slip that word to you. it's like a confession of their love to you. i think they'll afraid to tell it to you one on one so they think other ways to utter it to you. if this is not the case, they might pass it through hand letter or even a song just for you ought to know their love. well, the second time they will tell you– that they love you will be happen in real life interaction but the twist is that they will let their friends to say it you. don't get them wrong, their feelings for you is huge but somehow every time they try to make a move and to make you know about it. they can't slip that word through their mouth. it because they become stunned every time you are near.

if their "i love you's" text message makes you flatter then what about more the real one interaction, it will make you as if a float of affection with little hint of excitement and magical dust. you will be lost in words at first but you'll be able to get back and say "i love you more". it's a moment of a pastel hues for the both of you.

★ check the previous pac

₊˚ʚ 𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐎 🪅 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

baam. the first they will say it to you is also the first time you go out on a date with them. as i imagine, the date is gonna be fun with a little touch of unwieldy but more suave and constult kind of date. maybe because of moonstruck. i think this is a skinny love--- where two individual are shy to tell that tell they love each other but shows it anyway. you will also kiss anyway after they said that word to you.

i think you and this person will make an "i love you" core videos or messages then share it online. you will be enamoured with the time they tell you that they love you and this makes your heart melt and grow deeper about what you feel about them as a lover. their love makes you grow, as if you were a flower that needs love and sunlight to grow beautifully. you are the missing piece of this person puzzle and they can't wait to make fresh and unforgettable memories with you.

★ check the previous pac

˚⊱🍀⊰˚

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p1utofairy · 18 days ago

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CARDS — 2 of cups, 3 of cups, page of cups, 6 of pentacles rx, the devil + knight of swords.

pile one you are a VERY giving person, soooo giving to the point that you can almost get lost in it. people take advantage of your kindness and generosity and use it as a way to control/manipulate you. i feel like your love holds no bounds (whether it be a romantic relationship or your friends) you treat the connection like it's divine. you treat connections with so much care, compassion, love and warmth. you pour so much of yourself into connections with your family, friends, etc. because you really value people in general. on the flip side, that’s also simultaneously draining you because people know the lengths you’re willing to go to keep them happy, to keep the connection going and to essentially keep the ball rolling in their court. not everyone has your best interest at heart — not everyone has the best intentions when it comes to your heart. i feel like people (especially lovers) try to hang things over your head by guilt tripping and/or gaslighting and love-bombing you; to keep you coming back & keep you on a chain. i don't think you get too caught up in the material aspect of things and what someone can necessarily do for you on a materialistic level, but more so you see things from a genuine + pure perspective in love. you give it so effortlessly — your cup overflows and you share that with other people. however, some of the people that you keep around you operate from a more materialistic/money-driven mindset so they don’t value the actual connection as much as you do. for them it boils down to what you do for them, what you can do for them and what YOUR energy attracts that makes them want to stay in your orbit.

i also picked up that these people put you in an energy of pursuit/chase so that you’re taken out of your natural energetic frequency. that page of cups energy: you're a very sensitive soul. you’re innocent at heart. you’re someone that emits pure love from the heart. people try to make you feel like you need to chase them – they make you feel like you need to do things to gain their love, trust and their attention when you actually don’t need to do that at all. this causes you mental distress, anxiety, doubt, confusion and pressures you to make hasty decisions and jump into situations that are ultimately not good for you and do not benefit you. your spirit guides want you to know that it’s okay to operate from that page of cups energy, and not feel guilt or shame for that! some of you that picked this pile might not have experienced a romantic commitment yet and/or haven’t experienced what you’re experiencing right now in terms of this constant flow of attention, friendships, romantic suitors, etc. it’s becoming a consistent flow in your life — a major theme. so it makes sense that this might feel new and foreign to you. however, your spirit guides want you to understand that it’s okay to not have all the answers and not know what you’re doing. 111 on the clock. it’s okay to lead with your heart. you are divinely protected, pile one. you DO NOT have to feel like you need to do anything for anyone’s approval or do things to keep anyone’s presence in your life, because if they want to be there for you, they will be for there for you — without a catch or without making you feel like you need to chase them. without dangling shining things in front of your face to make you come to them. people try to prey upon your innocence, but you’re so enriched in your own orbit that you’re protected in more ways than you even realize. you’re a dreamer at heart. very child-like, spiritual, psychic, an admirer of all things.

you see the beauty in the mundane and the extraordinary alike. this is why you create such rich, valuable and expansive experiences and connections. however, it also does boil down to being able to decipher which energies are operating on that same higher frequency as you are and that are contributing to your enlightenment and your growth vs the ones that try to drag you down and pull you into something you ultimately don’t want for yourself. it's about taking the time out to truly evaluate and reevaluate what exactly it is that YOU WANT in connection, and not letting fear or anxiety waver you. you don’t need to get too caught up in the games people try to play with you. continue operating on that frequency of communicating what it is that you desire like “hey i want this for myself/my soul” engage with more of the things that bring you joy and happiness. you don’t have to count yourself out or doubt the decisions and moves that you’re currently making. do not keep yourself in that state of mind where you feel like you need to make yourself small, be quiet or feel as though you don’t have the power/the energy/the presence to communicate what exactly it is that you want.

take the time out to keep your nervous system calm and really look at situations from a calm and centered standpoint, instead of the erratic whirlwind energy that people try to put you in. some people try to put you in a state of confusion and make you doubt what it is that you desire to keep a sense of control over you. ultimately, it just circles right back to the main point of coming back to yourself and being your own judge at the end of the day, because you have so much expansion coming into your life that you have to be able to decipher and sift through what it is that you truly want – because the abundance that awaits you is very jupiter-esque. it’s a lot and you could get lost in it if you’re not paying attention so don’t get lost in it, pile one. come down into yourself – come into self. put yourself in a peaceful environment if you have to…meditate, take a walk, etc. do whatever it is you need to do to ground you in your own inner stillness/inner guide so that you can really listen to what God and your spirit guides are trying to show and tell you in terms of the people and energies that you’re interacting with. the signs are there and you know it, but you try to overthink the answer that you already know is the TRUTH.

you might have prominent 7h/libra placements. i’m getting libra sun/jupiter/venus vibes. your spirit guides don’t want you to get caught up in that state of confusion that other people try to put you in – especially with the sag/jupiter energy that is either currently or about to enter your life. things could be happening very fast and you could be meeting and forming connections with people very quickly + traveling soon. you’re definitely meant to meet the right kind of people – you’re meant to connect with people on a higher level. however, this message keeps coming out loud and clear that you have to be very mindful of who you connect with and who you could potentially reconnect with. everything that glitters isn’t gold and just keep in mind that even when something might look very appealing or like it would make sense, doesn’t mean that it’s for you. you are going to find a genuine romantic partner that does check off a lot of your boxes – and it will make sense with them and it will look right but in the path towards that person it’s also about recognizing the difference of what is good for you on a soul level vs what others may perceive to be right for you from an external/societal standpoint if that makes sense? i.e. it could be the hottest person that presents themselves to you and you’re like ooooooo i want that and then you engage with them and you’re like oof wait…i actually don’t want that at all lol. you need to do some throat chakra remedies! EXPRESS, pile one.

you need to make it clear what you do and don’t want, because i feel like it gets lost in translation especially with the romantic partners you attract. these people can’t read your mind. they’re not connected to you on that HIGHER frequency - so that tells you right there that it may not be for you because they’re not in tune with where exactly you’re at in your spiritual journey, but you also have to be the one to explicitly say “hey this actually isn’t working for me…this is what i want” while also telling yourself that you don’t have to settle for this when you could have something better. if you don’t speak your truth to not only yourself but the ones you’re attracting, it’s going to put you in a state of regret. feeling like like you should’ve said this or you should’ve done that — to clear that fog of confusion you have to speak your truth. say exactly what it is that you want and not settle for people/situations that you feel are familiar. just because you’re familiar with someone or something doesn’t mean that it’s right/good for you. ultimately you know what the truth is, you know where you’re going and you know what suits you. don’t get too caught up in the blunder and mental chaos that not only other people but YOURSELF tries to inflict upon your psyche. CLEAR, CANCEL AND RELEASE the confusion from out of your life.

ADDITIONAL MESSAGES —

higher by tems, marilyn monroe, self sabotage, swati, love without tragedy by rihanna, burning blue by mariah the scientist, dhanistha, spread thin by mariah the scientist. you have a pattern of people pleasing tendencies when it comes to the connections around you (friends/family/lovers).

CARDS — 8 of pentacles, the hierophant, 4 of wands, 8 of swords, 4 of swords, the tower rx, 10 of cups, temperance.

pile two you need to stop over-compensating because you're more than qualified to genuinely be loved. time and time again you try to show up and try to morph into someone that's more digestible for people. it's almost like you downplay yourself in a sense. this also bleeds into the love you have for your craft/passions — it's very specific. you're beyond talented at what you do and you love the grind. you prefer quality over quantity. you don't need to have a lot of romantic connections or connections in general to feel fulfilled — in your opinion. at the end of the day, your guides want you to understand that everyone needs somebody when it's all said and done. not solely in a romantic relationship sense, more so that everyone needs someone to turn to and lean on in certain instances. your soul has felt so conditioned to keep powering through alone. you feel like you don't need people and that essentially you can do it all on you're own...there's some sort of hyper-independence here.

this is not to say that you can't do it on your own, but your spirit guides want you to understand that you can also ask for help. you can ask your spirit guides for help, you can ask the divine for help and you can ask for more. free of charge. you don't have to settle for less or water yourself down because you have the knowledge, power, connections and resources at your will more than you think you do to qualify for what it is that you want; the love that you want. to connect with the people and opportunities and the spaces that you want to be in. you have the power to access all of it, but you have to stop overcompensating and dimming yourself in a way that's ultimately working against you. you are a very hard-worker! to the point that it almost isolates you and deprives you from real love. it's like you feel trapped. i'm not certain if you know how to express your emotions fluently or if you know to express love in a "traditional" way. you might have an earth (capricorn, virgo, taurus) venus or prominent 6H placements. prominent gemini placement as well.

there's this strong energy of over-thinking, but in the mental chaos there's a method to your madness. love might not be conveyed in the ways that most people (especially romantic partners) would like because the way you give love might be unconventional or foreign to them. their needs vs yours. you have a very specific way that you want to be loved and i don't think you've fully experienced/felt it yet. you do know how to show up for people in the ways that they want, but it's just in a different way. if that makes sense? you might've felt like you've constantly hit a wall because of that...because essentially your watering down your own needs in the process of that. you're not truly being who you are in these romantic connections you attract, and that's why you're hitting a wall there.

you're not honoring who you are at the core because you're trying to play this traditional role, but you're really not that person. you're very unique. very one of one. it's hard for me to explain it, but you know what i'm talking about. you're very custom-made and not everybody can receive you because you're good by yourself and not a lot of people can stand on their own; but you can. i feel like that's where the fear and confusion comes in because because you start to feel isolated, lonely, misunderstood, outcasted and essentially pressured to be someone that you're not. people get it misconstrued with you. you might look one way but behind the physical appearance is something else. i'm being drawn to rohini (taurus) nakshatra. some of you might have a more conservative/traditional look to you where people put you in a box and think you're the ultimate marriage material/arm candy/trophy wife but whole time you're like um fuck being a trad!wife or "traditional" partner who stays home all day. you don't want that for yourself, you want to be an entrepreneur and build your own business and pave your own way. ardra (gemini) nakshatra energy. mad scientist vibes. you don't want anyone to take credit for the legacy and success you are cultivating for yourself because YOU made this happen from the ground up.

again, this is where you internally waver because you're not being seen for who you truly are and that's why the relationships you've been in didn't work out because you're resisting and they're resisting change. which is you...you're the change. you're not what they expected and that throws them off. even when you try to force it, its like you can't delay the inevitable. you can't avoid it because your true self is going to come out regardless — your soul is going to shine through no matter what. your guides want you to know that you will get to that place of finding someone that emotionally pours into you. someone that is not caught up in the physical/lust aspect when it comes to you. you don't fit into a box. your person/this love is going to feel so fulfilling on so many levels; i can't even fully put it into words. you might move somewhere else and/or move with this person but you need this. your soul needs this. it's like rejuvenation to your soul. you could marry this person and/or even have a family (if you want that) with them. ultimately this is what your soul needs because this is what it's felt deprived of. you've had your walls up subconsciously because you're not being who you authentically are in the relationships that you find yourself in.

you have very deep childhood wounds that stems from your family. that pressure of being someone that you're not was put upon you by your family. you could experience a lot of envy from family members for being who you are (some of you that picked this pile might be LGBTQ+) and for being the unique soul that you are. for being so good at what you do effortlessly. people perceive you in this way, but they don't even realize how hard you've worked to get to this point or how much you've put into being who it is that you are. sustaining what it is that you've created for yourself. their projections have made you feel insecure and very unsure of yourself and that's just an optical illusions to break you down. certain triggers from the external world are tactics to try to "humble" you and put you in an energy of doubt and lack so that you're not operating from your highest frequency/your soul. it's done to take you out of your essence and this is very...heavy. this is done in ways you haven't even fully recognized yet, but you're slowly starting to realize.

whoever you are — you can be your quirky self. you can be your silly self. you can be your imaginative self. you can be profound. you can be emotional. show that side of you because someone is going to come into your life and see you for who you truly are and love every imperfection and aspect of your soul. they're not going to fall in love with the facade that you've created in your mind, no. the image that you put on for the public does not resonate with them. your true authentic self is what they will fall in love with first. you or this person may have a pisces moon. yin and yang energy. this person is going to pour into you in ways you never knew you needed to be nourished in. you're learning how to not take on the burdens that people try to mentally inflict upon you. you don't have to accept that. you can be who you are at the core and still attract the things that you want.

ADDITIONAL MESSAGES —

check pile 1 if you also felt drawn to it, vibes don’t lie by leon thomas, get well soon by ariana grande, prominent gemini placements, hasta, teyana taylor vibe, art by tyla, jyeshtha, while we’re young by jhené aiko, heart chakra remedies, pretty little birds by sza ft. isaiah rashad, chart ruler in jupiter or in pisces sign.

CARDS — the sun, 10 of swords, the hermit, page of cups, page of wands, 8 of cups.

you carry such a bright light inside of you, pile 3. a sun-like aura surrounds you to the point people can't ignore it even if they tried. people can't help but be drawn to you. these people are almost vampiric in a sense that they need your warmth, vitality and presence in their life. they feel the difference in the room when you're there vs when you're not. you make a huge impact on peoples lives. i feel like people (especially romantic partners) try to take advantage of that —they can see and feel that you operate on this high frequency. it's like a drug to them. people around you try to take you out of that frequency/siphon your energy for themselves and try to use it against you because they know that you are a kind + radiant soul. no act, no gimmicks. these people try to backstab, betray and make an enemy out of you from a place of jealousy. you have the power to see through the veil and this evokes a lot of negative reactions/emotions from people.

it might wholeheartedly astonish you, but this seriously causes people to operate on a lower vibration to try to knock you off your "high horse" is what i'm picking up. they try to exhaust you, break you down and bring you down to their level but you refuse. even if in the moment you do feel hurt, angry, embarrassed or disrespected, you still come back to yourself. do not allow others to think that have the power to take your out of your body — out of your natural essence. you need to acknowledge when too much is too much. you have to learn how to not over-give and how to keep some things to yourself and for yourself, because you operate on such a sun-like frequency that nothing phases you. or at least that's how people perceive you, which then makes them feel like they need to knock you down a peg to make you feel something. sometimes this might work — sometimes people might take you to that place of feeling like "damn...okay" and make you retreat inwards and dim your light.

however, i feel like you have a sanctuary within your own soul. even when people trigger you like that, you still look at it from an optimistic perspective like "how can i grow from this? how can i transmute this energy?" it's interesting because you don't even really make it so much about the person. you still give them grace/the benefit of the doubt. instead, you turn to yourself to make sure that you're not falling into that trap of negativity that they want you to get caught up in. you might feel bothered by it momentarily — but you're very solution based in a way that honors your feelings and then you pivot. you're very reflective and introspective. you may have prominent 1H/aries/mars placements in your chart. even in the face of adversity, you're always resilient.

you have a very youthful energy that triggers a lot of people. you understand that a lot of people do not have the luxury of walking around on cloud 9 and looking at life from an optimistic point of view. a lot of people in the external world operate from a lower vibration, and you don't so when it comes to love you have to be able to wield your own power and not put it in the hands of someone else. there's nothing wrong with instilling boundaries and letting people know that they cannot just trample upon your emotional boundaries. you have to communicate what exactly it is that you feel instead of being passive or avoidant. you might be very good at ghosting or abruptly walking away, you'd rather do that than face the emotional aspect of it head on. i know that it's easier to retreat inward and deal with it internally (it's good that you can even do this because many don't) but if you don't say things out loud people (especially romantically) will try to overstep and not respect you or your emotions.

if something doesn't sit right with you — say it. everyone has a limit. you need to allow yourself to tell people what doesn't align with you. you like to deal with things in your own way which is fine, but it doesn't always leave things settled. once you say what you mean and mean what you say then — BOOM — it's settled you can walk away peacefully. however, when you don't fully close those cycles out, then you're going to go through a loop of repetition. like "why do people keep doing this to me?" or "why do people keep saying this to me?" — that's because you're basically allowing that. the ball is in your court, pile 3. what you say...goes. your guides want you to know that you have the power to do this. you don't have to be passive aggressive, complacent or feel remorseful. life is coming from you, not at you. so you need to get more in touch with your emotions and start conveying them in a way that makes people realize that they can't play with you like that. you might be young or just getting into adulthood or you may just have child-like personality, that makes people not want to respect you or your boundaries but that's why you have to stop being so passive about it and advocate for yourself. you might not have fully experienced a romantic commitment yet, you may have had more fleeting crushes/flings, but in speaking your truth/your emotions you will start to see a change in who it is that you attract.

you take a very unbothered approach to conflict. you don't allow others to fully see how you truly feel. you're known to be a very happy and sweet person, to the point that people don't see you as a threat; which makes them think they can play with you. instead of rocking the boat you see the best in people even when you need to see the situation for what it truly is and subconsciously you're making a blockage for yourself. you don't fully trust people, so it's like you don't want them to think that you're vulnerable enough to give them the reaction that they want — that's what is hindering you. honestly, fuck other people's opinions but this isn't about that. this is about you being an inspiration to yourself. it's about you respecting yourself enough to speak your truth unapologetically. don't spare other people at the expanse of yourself. taurus/2H vibes. you have a very sexy, cool, calm energy about you that helps you finagle situations to your advantage. you might have a very active root/sacral chakra. don't be so passive. refine how you communicate your needs and boundaries. with that taurus energy, people might think they can be sexually crude towards you because of how you look.

i feel like you have some new romance coming in though - you could meet this person while you're traveling/at a museum/exhibit of some sort. somewhere with nice scenery. this is going to be a wish fulfillment. something that you've always wanted to do/experience on a romantic level. it's like a rom-com scene in a movie when you meet them. like you're unlocking a new storyline/chapter lol. you're moving towards this very soon, pile 3.

ADDITIONAL MESSAGES —

belong to you remix by sabrina claudio ft. 6lack, krittika, NYC, historical site.

#pick a card #pac #pick a card reading #pick a pile #p1utofairy #tarot reading #pac reading #intuitive reading #tarot pac #tarot #vedic astrology

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navydoves · 3 months ago

Text

Have you ever heard of the Omegaverse?

✎ᝰ summary: you wanted to try something new with sylus to spice up your intimacy. something quite strange.

✎ᝰ cw: fake omegaverse, explicit but no actual sex, mentions of breeding, scent/pheromone kink, perfume addict, dirty talk but it’s not mean, needy sylus, you get the idea, no Y/N, it’s all lowercase bro

✎ᝰ a/n: not sure where this came from. i proof read AFTER i published this and then realized i forgot a whole chunk so shoot me. anyway, enjoy.

࣪𖤐

it wasn’t like sylus couldn’t sexually please you. it was, quite in fact, the exact opposite. it didn’t matter if it was with his fingers, his mouth, or his thick, veiny cock that was most definitely imprinted deep within your pussy at this point from just how many times he’s had you face down in his bed—it didn’t matter how, but sylus managed to pleasure you intensely, lovingly, passionately every single time.

to say you were blessed was an understatement. he was your god given man, top to bottom, perfection crafted by the gods themselves you would think. patient, kind, loving, dominant, wealthy, all the traits someone could ask for in a partner. but sometimes… you wanted to push the boundaries of your relationship just to see how “nonjudgmental” and capable sylus was willing to be for you.

your history with fiction was lengthy. always having your nose in books from a young age, reading about magic treehouses and mouses with cookies. fiction wasn’t juvenile, it was freedom, it was creative, it was part of you. but as you grew up and left phases behind, you also gained responsibilities by the year. that passion was driven elsewhere. being a hunter required time, energy, and dedication, all things you put in to get to the rank you are today.

yet, your love for fiction never really left. maybe put on pause, but getting lost in stories was a feeling you missed. now more settled down in your life, with a boyfriend and stable job, you felt the urge to relive the fixations of your childhood.

one thing led to another and instead of opting for the local library to check out some books or maybe dusting off your shelves to find other forgotten ones, you find yourself online, preferring the “e-reading” experience instead.

bad choice? nah.

while sylus was out on “commerce negotiations” (what he half-heartedly described it to you as, so as spare you the details of potential bloodshed), you lounged in one his many common rooms within his large estate, almost bored of how you couldn't find eye-catching stories to read or even skim through.

your short-attention span was just about to reprimand you for spending so much time on a task that proved to be fruitless, until, that was, your eyes grazed over a certain, unfamiliar category. "omegaverse?" you mumbled to yourself before curiously tapping on the highlighted word. the screen of your phone loaded in several different comics and stories with titles and thumbnails that were dowsed in eroticism and innuendos. you've never really strayed away from mature, sexual themes but it also never really was the main focus of the stories you read-unlike what this "omegaverse" proved itself to be. it only took one click to really interest you, and before you knew, you were down a rabbit-hole of this alternate universe that was all about primality and mates. it was about humans, sure, but with more of a… cardinal touch to it. needless to say, it aroused you. even if you felt weird about it and were in slight denial that something so… bizarre could do this to you, you couldn't help it. especially when your thoughts drifted off and imagined sylus and you in a lot of these scenarios; scenting, marking, breeding. sure, you could do and have done these things with him to an extent, but it wasn't exactly the same.

your thoughts and sensations were interrupted by a familiar voice down the hall of the common room you were in. you swiped out of the tab you were on and put down your phone to greet sylus.

"sy, you're back. negotiations go well?" you asked with a gentle smile on your cheek whiling pushing yourself off the couch to go properly welcome him. he stood tall by the wall, leather jacket still on and hugging his form along with matching and equally as tight leather pants. his earthy, steel scent spilled into your nostrils and comforted you as you embraced him gently.

"'course it went well, when doesn't it?" he replied with a slight smirk to his lips and a lilt of smugness in his voice. he was right, you can't name one instance where his deals and bids didn't go his way. it was a true tell of his power in the N109, and something about his dominance in the field made you internally giggle. he wrapped a firm arm around your waist and kissed your forehead tenderly before pulling back. "don't tell me you were all worried about me? my little lady should know i'll always return home safe."

you chuckle slightly and remove your arms from his form. "nah, wasn't really worried, in fact i was more bored than anything else." sylus raised a brow.

"bored? i leave you my entire estate with rooms upon rooms to entertain yourself in and you're bored?" he teased just slightly. "what a needy kitten you are. i'll tell luke and kieran we'll build a few more game rooms if that'll keep you entertained." you knew sylus was more-so joking, but if you truly did ask for it, he'd build you a village.

you watch him move off the wall and slide off his leather jacket to put on one of the chairs that was tucked into the dining room table. he pulls the chair back and sits on it, elbow on the table and propping up his head on his palm. his legs manspread in fashion, his posture at ease, and his demeanor rather playful in the moment.

"i don't... really do much, not unless i have hunter work to do. which... i try not to bring to our quality time. i try to relax here, yknow?" you respond, embarrassed heat now burning at certain parts of your skin from just looking at sylus.

a low, throaty chuckle comes from sylus. he nods his head at your words and reaches out to take your wrist into his soft palms. it amazed you how nice the skin there was despite all of his dirty work.

"i know, love. you don't have to explain yourself to me. im glad you're resting up." he smiled and leaned in slightly to kiss and nibble at the crevice of your neck affectionately. "how was your reading?"

you tensed up slightly at his question and swallow. it wasn't exactly a lie that it went... nicely, after all, now you have a greater depth of internet niches and sex scenarios to think about, but you didn't want to just give him a rushed blanket statement and move on. no you wanted... more.

sensing your hesitation and slight tension in your body, sylus pulled back from your neck and looked up at you with a wondering expression. he tilted his head, making your heart flutter a little bit.

"you okay?" he asked in a murmur. he nudged his nose underneath your chin and brought a hand up to your hip to squeeze you from over your clothes. "do you need me, love?"

a shudder runs down your spine at yet another one of his questions. you knew what he meant. he took your flushed state as one of need, one of desire, and he wasn't entirely wrong... he just had the wrong context.

"err... sylus," you whispered while tilting your head down fully toward him and cupping his face, "you love me, right?"

"with every fiber of my being, yes."

"and you'd anything for me, right?"

"yes," he raised a brow, "how much do you want?"

"no this isn't about money,"

"then what is it, darling?"

you hesitated on your next words. like stated before, it wasn't like sylus couldn't sexually please you, you just wanted to try something…new.

"have you ever heard of the omegaverse?"

sylus's brows furrowed in confusion and then in ponder.

"no, i don't think i have. what is it? the name of an organization or something?"

you almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, but you refrain. a small, silly grin grows on your lips as you shake your head.

"no it's a... genre, i think. i really don't know how to explain it to you but it's something i want to try between us. i can kinda... show it to you, if you'd like." you reach for your phone in your pocket and click on the few tabs of explanations you searched up for yourself in attempts to better understand this weird internet niche. sylus looked between you and the phone before fully immersing himself to the words on the screen. now, you were no longer flushing from nervousness or arousal, but from pure and utter embarrassment.

the feeling only grew once sylus fully took your phone from your hands and began reading more intently. he tapped at a few god-knows-what things and after a few very long, heavy minutes, he finally looks up at you. you tense again, posture rigid and skin hot. he smirked.

"i'm guessing i'm the alpha?"

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

your breath was heavy and coming out sporadically due to the full force of sylus's body weight atop of you. all 260 pounds (117.9 kg) of his body pressed into you and squished you into the mattress, sandwiching you between two forces. all 6'1 (186 cm) of his form towering over your shorter, smaller frame and taking advantage of your limited movement.

sylus's nose buried into your nape where your skin and hair strands met, making for the perfect concoction of your feminine musk. he let out a low groan and pressed his hips into yours as arousal built in his body purely from just your scent.

"my pretty," he purred against you, "you know better than to walk around smelling so nice when im nearing my rut, don't you?"

you whine softly in response. you couldn't believe how easy it was to convince sylus to do this, and you especially couldn't believe how good he was at playing the part. he chuckles, it's a genuine sound from him. he was, in fact, enjoying this.

"yknow it's only your scent that gets me going like this, love. can't stand the scent of other omegas, fucking repulses me. mmm," he presses into you again, "but when i come hooome, and i can smell yooou in the air, im reminded how lucky i am. reminded how perfect my sweet girl is.” sylus moves a hand to your face and tilts your head to face him better. his fingers gently dig into your cheeks, squishing them in an almost affectionate manner. "im all yours, you've got me hooked. im so... addicted to you."

you let out a small whimper but nod in agreement. he is all yours, thankfully so. words have failed you for the past several minutes due to the sheer amount of arousal coursing through your body, and only small noises were what you were reduced to. clothes weren't even off, lights hadn't been dimmed, yet sylus was able to fully and utterly make you putty, and you both loved it.

he loved seeing you this way, submissive and needy for him. while he let you have your fun in the past, here and there, at the end of the day it was always him taking control and guiding you once he had enough. and now, playing respective roles where you were an absolute submissive to him and he was an absolute dominant to you, made him prosper.

"mm, should i take your vow of silence as your way of telling me you like this side of me?" he chuckles lowly. you mewl softly in response. "atta girl. i knew since the time you snuck into my room to get off to my pheromones that you were a little filthy. i didn't know just how filthy you were, though."

sylus's fingers let go of your cheek and moved down to your shoulders to press you back down fully against the mattress. his weight was so deliciously suffocating you and you felt like you could get high on the pressure alone.

"now that i've got you where i want you," he began, a hand snaking between your front and the mattress and sliding down slowly to your pelvis, "i'll tell you exactly what i want to do with you. do you wanna hear?" you nod in response but it earns a disapproving frown from sylus. "use your words, angel."

"y-yes, tell me what you want to do to me," you groan out with need right before you close your eyes shut. sylus lets out an approving rumble and continues to move his hand down your pelvis until it was right under your bellybutton. he leaned into your ear and bit the skin of it gently which sent intense arousal shocks to right in-between your legs.

"im gonna breed you," he mumbled, "god im gonna breed you so good, so much, that there's no doubt you're pregnant with my children." you moaned softly at his words. while deep down, you knew that children weren't a thing you and sylus were looking for right now, the idea of him creamping you over and over again in hopes of impregnating you was incredibly erotic.

sylus laughed at your obvious infatuation with the idea and pressed his hand deeper against your pelvis. "mm, right here, our kids will grow. your womb will know my knot so well that it'll happily take my children. isn't that right? my pretty little omega, my pretty little wife."

without waiting for an answer, sylus flips you over onto your back and looks over your form appreciatively. baggy clothes and sweaters would never stop him from enjoying you, in fact, he loved imagining your pretty body underneath those layers. he dips his head down to your chest and nuzzles his head against the bump of your breasts, a low purr coming out of him again.

your hands instinctively go into sylus's hair and scratch his scalp tenderly as he moves his head lower and lower down your body. you felt an unfamiliar sense trepidation simmering within you but it only worked toward arousing you even further. something about the uncharted territory of this roleplay, of sylus made you nervous but deliciously so. you didn't know what to expect from him and you loved it.

"mmm, fucking delicious," sylus murmured as he took in the aroma of your clothes, imprinted with the various body sprays and perfumes he's bought you over the months. nothing ever enters your cabinets until careful deliberation on what suits you the best is done, and even then, he insists on customized, personally made scents just for you so that no one else but his love can smell like this. his cock twitched in his pants at just the mere thought that you smelled like his money, his gifts, his love. and in this case, his omega.

"s-sylus..." you whimper while arching your hips up to his hands that were now slowly moving your baggy shirt up to your waist. his hands were so warm, gentle, but so, so insistent. without response he dove his head into your stomach and sniffed, low rumbles of appreciation vibrating your body. he smiles against your skin and glances up at you.

"you smell so fertile, love," sylus groans softly, "your pheromones... i guess my rut is coming sooner than i thought. i can feel it... agh... im lightheaded...". you look down at him cup his face tentatively, worry spread across your face.

"are you alright?" you ask nervously. sylus lets out a shaky exhale that glides up your wrist. he grabs the back of your hand with his, closes his eyes, and tilts his head to the side to press a delicate kiss to your palm. it takes a few heart-pounding, stomach churning moments for him to respond, and each second felt like you were getting a new adrenaline rush. he looks back at you, eyes now intense and half lidded, shiner than usual in a way the pierced right through you.

"you have a minute to run," he mumbles. a simple, straightforward statement that made your mouth go dry. you stare blankly at him for a moment before getting up from the edge of the bed and looking around, hoping that something here had an answer for the absurdity of the situation. sylus glanced at the nightstand where a few of your perfumes sat there in their gorgeous, shimmering bottles. he stood and picked up one haphazardly and then handed it to you. "douse yourself in it and run."

you look down at the beautiful violet coloured bottle, elegance in a glass, and hesitate. it was an extremely expensive perfume and to... douse yourself in it like it was some moderately cheap, beauty supply store spray was frankly crazy. but in this moment, you weren't sure what it was, but everything was telling you to listen to sylus.

you shake the bottle gently and threw caution to the wind with the sprays. up and down your body in close proximity, you sprayed the scent to make sure it stuck onto you and you didn’t stop until that the word douse would be imprinted onto your skin. when you finished with milking the nozzle dry for what it was worth (literally), you carefully put the bottle down back on the stand and glance over to sylus.

"sixty."

sixty?

"fifty-nine."

fuck.

you rush out of the bedroom and down the corridor to one of the common rooms in the estate. the fact that this manor was particularly huge helped your escape tremendously. your legs took you farther and farther away from the wing sylus was on with each passing second. you weren't exactly sure where to go or if you should hide, but you had a feeling you should.

you found a hiding spot in a mostly unused storage closet one floor above where sylus was at. you weren't exactly sure what number he was on or if maybe he was already looking for you and you were too busy scrambling to hear him, but you had a spot now.

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

"one... zero," sylus hums. a small smile grows on his lips as he steps forward and out the bedroom he waited in. he did intentionally count slower than usual, just to give his pretty little lady some fighting chance, but he knew it was already over the minute you asked to do this roleplay.

he stepped into the hall casually and took long strides with confidence. the prominent boner in his pants stuck out terribly and made a show of itself with each movement of his hips. where was his precious omega? maybe behind this door? or that underneath that ottoman? or on that balcony?

no.

he knew where you were, or at least, he could take a very good guess. the perfume you doused left a prominent scent trail wherever you clambered around to, and that was his guiding phermone to finding you. although, lucky for you, it was also a disadvantage. each strong whiff of you to his sensitive nose made him groan softly and palm at his aching cock. he was so frustratingly erect that it felt like his groin was going to pop out of his pants anytime soon.

"mngh... darling..." he called out mockingly, "if only you could see the mess you've made of me right now. it's almost maddening, yknow?" he staggered down another hall and has to bite back a loud moan as he smells you everywhere. you were erratic in this hall in particular, he guesses, not that it's anything to complain about. it only got him readier for you.

"you're making this... so difficult for me. i wonder... how wet you are right now, just waiting for me to pound into your eager pussy." he stalked the hall for longer before stopping at the end of it. his back presses against the wall with a groan as he imagines you wrapping around his twitching cock and massaging him slowly, lovingly, with your warm walls. he reached down and into his pants to stroke himself for some type of relief but he refused to cum unless he was inside you.

after a few more minutes of stumbling around halls and rooms, groaning both in frustration and desire, sylus eyed a particular door in the middle of a hall on the opposite wing of his estate, a floor up. he can almost feel you throbbing behind there, maybe even taste the sweat and arousal on your skin. he smirked before moving toward the door and stopping right outside of it. he didn't open it, or knock, or even say a word, he just stood there, breathing.

you, of course, were behind that door, shivering in pure ecstasy and need. you heard his voice echo from halls down and it was exhilarating how he stalked you just by your scent. god this was so much better than what you had initially imagined when mentioning the roleplay. now, sylus was only a few feet away from you, intimidating you from just right outside the storage closet door.

you tried not to make a noise but pleasure just kept shooting down and in between your legs every time you thought about what would happen once he got his hands on you.

"won't you help your alpha?" sylus purred while eyeing down the door. "i've been such a good boy, yeah? giving you time to hide, taking the time to look for you, even waiting for you outside this closet. besides... you're the one who caused my rut."

he flashed a toothy grin that you couldn't see. he was enjoying this more than he thought he would, even if he was aching in every part of his body for you. he reached down into his leather pants again and a few moments later you could hear wet, squelching sounds coming from the opposite side of the door. the sounds made you squeeze your thighs together and tilt your head back. god, he was getting off and teasing you with the promise of his cock and he was reveling in that fact too.

"ngh... fu... god. im so hard, love. im swollen with all the fucking need in the world and i..." he grips the door with his free hand and grits his teeth. "i need you so bad. where else am i gonna put this cock, huh? no other omega fucking deserves it. its you who i want to impregnate."

you couldn’t take it anymore. you reached down your own soft felt leggings and began rubbing yourself over your absolutely drenched panties. you needed relief so bad, the past hour had just been you soaking yourself in arousal without any true stimulation, it was so close to driving you insane. and, especially now with sylus a breath away and teasing with the sounds of his cock like an animal, you were sure you were actually experiencing insanity.

you could hear sylus pump himself faster and the low growls that came in succession with it. he sounded like he was going insane too, actually.

“‘m gonna cum all over this door if you don’t come out and see me, love, and i don’t want to do that.” sylus’s teased. his grip on the knob became tighter making the veins of his hand become more prominent. you could hear the clacks of the brass of the doorknob move around, he truly was holding back.

you shouldn’t have kept quiet, that was the mistake you realized when the door came flying open and hit the wall beside it. you stared up at sylus from where you where sat on the floor, hand down your pants and eyes wide from exhilaration and a little bit of fear.

your eyes flit down to his very exposed cock that arched up to his abdomen and painted his shirt with pre-cum. it throbbed there and bobbed gently, back and forth, on its own. you could feel your mouth salivate at the creaminess, the thickness, the curve of his angry, needy, swole cock.

he looked at you with slight surprise in his eyes for a moment before smiling, eyes squinting with amusement.

“found you,” he breathed out.

before you could make a run for it sylus quickly bent down and grabbed onto your hips. you yelped in surprise but you didn’t move away from his (almost) bruising grasp on you. instead, you submitted to his touch almost immediately and from the low growl that came from his throat, you could tell he very obviously liked that.

he moved his hands down your legs, teasing the inner corners of your thighs before gripping both your ankles with one, strong hand. he flipped you onto your front and laughed at just how pliant you were being with him.

“you’re coming with me, darling,” he purred. he stood to full height and dragged you out the storage closet and into the hall, his steps slow and methodical. the rough bumps of carpet ground against you through your clothes and gave you a nice, scratchy feel on your nipples. the storage closet inched further and further away from you with each step sylus took toward down the hall.

you felt dizzy with desire, he’s never manhandled you like this before and you sure as hell weren’t complaining that he was starting now. and god, he must’ve doused himself in his cologne too because all you could smell—instead of carpet dust—was his intoxicating scent. his pheromones. it was a manly musk that resonated with oak and cherries, and, despite that scent always bringing a sense of comfort to you, it now brought you a heady sense of mind numbing horniness.

you felt yourself go non-verbal again from the sheer anticipation within you, now only whimpers escaping your tight lips. there was an aching emptiness between your legs that you knew could only be satiated by the hilt of sylus’s cock breeding you over and over again.

when another low laugh rumbles in his chest, you glance behind with trepidation in your eyes and found him already looking over and down at you. he gritted his teeth in a large smile.

“it’s time i actually start taking this roleplay seriously.”

࣪𖤐

a/n: first fic on here but i feel like im a bad fiction writer so idk how this is gonna play out. i also dk how tumblr works since im more of a reader on here but again… we’ll see how this goes. also im an xavier main. just had to mention that here cause i love him sm

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hoshifighting · 1 year ago

Text

Seventeen reaction when something embarrassing happens during sex

a/n: just a heads-up; It's more common than you think

Warnings: this content contains mature themes and accidents during sexual situations.

Seungcheol

you’re in the middle of the sex, feeling seungcheol's strong body moving with yours, his hands gripping your hips tightly. everything is intense and passionate until you hear him moan, “seungkwan…”

you both freeze. the room goes silent except for your heavy breaths. you can't help it; laughter bursts out of you. the absurdity of the situation, combined with the tension, makes you laugh so hard your sides ache.

the fact that your boyfriend had spent the whole day fighting with seungkwan, perhaps made the boy's name spontaneously come out of his lips, without intention.

seungcheol’s face is buried in your chest, and you feel his shoulders shaking. he lifts his head, his eyes filled with embarrassment and a hint of laughter. “i’m so sorry,” he chuckles, almost crying from shame.

you kiss his forehead, still giggling. “it’s okay, babe. you’ve been scolding him all day. no wonder his name slipped out.”

Jeonghan

jeonghan is thrusting into you, both of you lost in the rhythm of his thrusts when suddenly he lets out a loud burp. the sound is so unexpected that he immediately slows down, a look of utter embarrassment on his face.

going on a date, and eating more than a plate of fried pork and large ass glasses of beer were definitely not the best meal before having sex.

he starts laughing, shyly apologizing, “sorry, baby, i’m so full.”

you bury your face in the sheets, chuckling at the situation. “next time, maybe less fried pork before bed?”

Joshua

you’re sucking joshua greedily, feeling his hands gripping your hair, his moans filling the room. suddenly, one of his moans turns into a funny squeak. you can’t help but smile around him, the sound is so random and endearing.

joshua’s face turns red, and he looks down at you with embarrassment. “i guess i'm doing a great job,” you tease, and he laughs, his head falling back against the pillow.

Junhui

junhui comes home late, exhausted but needing you. he kisses you deeply, pushing you onto the bed, but as you ride him, you notice his moans becoming quieter. when you open your eyes, you find him asleep, his eyes half-open but clearly out of it.

you scoff softly, sliding off him. you clean him up and tuck him in, a fond smile on your face. “we can continue this in the morning,” you whisper, kissing his forehead.

Soonyoung

hoshi’s enthusiasm is infectious, but you’ve told him several times to move to the center of the bed. he doesn’t listen, too caught up in his eagerness, until he loses his balance and falls off the border with a thud.

you gasp and rush to the side of the bed, finding him on the floor looking both dazed and sheepish. “i told you to move to the center,” you say, helping him back up.

he grins, rubbing the back of his head. “guess i was a bit too excited.”

Wonwoo

wonwoo’s glasses have been slipping, but he’s too focused on you to take them off. suddenly, they fall onto your face, startling both of you. he pauses, eyes wide in horror, then quickly puts them back on, looking at you with concern.

you burst out laughing, the absurdity too much to handle. his face scrunches in embarrassment, but he joins in your laughter, relieved that you’re not hurt.

Woozi

you’re riding woozi on his couch, driven by your fertile period一that didn't go easy on you, when he suddenly groans in pain. his leg stretches out in a funny way, and you realize he has a cramp.

“do you want me to stretch it for you?” you ask, giggling.

he nods, wincing. you gently help him extend his leg, massaging the cramp away. the scene gets funnier because you're both naked stretching in the middle of his studio. he sighs in relief, a sheepish smile on his face. “thanks, babe. i think we need a short break.”

Minghao

his thrusts are powerful, each one driving the headboard against the wall with a rhythmic thud. you both have your eyes closed, lost in the sensation, when suddenly the picture frame hanging above the bed crashes down, hitting the headboard and then you.

“ouch!” you yelp, more surprised than hurt.

minghao opens his eyes, alarmed. he sees you holding the picture frame, a laugh bubbling out of you. he can’t help but chuckle too, albeit with a sheepish look.

“sorry about that,” he murmurs, taking the frame from you and hanging it back on the wall. he moves you both to a less...impacting position, continuing more gently this time.

Mingyu

mingyu's passionate thrusts have you both moving in perfect sync, until one particularly hard thrust sends your head banging against the wall with a loud thud.

you cover the top of your head, laughing despite the pain. “ouch, that one hurt!”

mingyu’s eyes go wide with worry, and before you know it, he’s running naked to the kitchen, ass, dick, balls, swaying as he runs. you laugh even harder at the sight. he returns with an ice pack, pressing it gently to your head, his face flushed with shame.

“i’m so sorry, babe,” he mumbles, his embarrassment spreading down his neck.

you kiss his cheek, still giggling. “it’s okay, mingyu. you running naked was worth it.”

Seokmin

you and seokmin love changing positions during sex, experimenting with the most unusual ones. tonight, however, is filled with accidents—your thighs bumping into each other, his cock slipping out.

after a particularly awkward attempt, he collapses back onto the bed, still giggling. “i don’t think that one’s gonna work.”

each time, you both burst into laughter, the errors becoming funnier. eventually, too tired to keep trying, you settle into classic missionary.

“guess this one’s a bit too advanced for us,” you say, still giggling.

seokmin laughs with you, nodding. “yeah, let’s stick to what we know works.”

Seungkwan

with seungkwan, laughter is a constant companion, but during sex, it’s usually a more serious affair. tonight, though, as you move together, you lock eyes in complete silence, and suddenly both of you burst into laughter.

“we really can’t take anything seriously, can we?” he says, giggling uncontrollably.

Vernon

you nod, tears of laughter streaming down your face. “nope, we’re just two giggling bitches.”

vernon loves when you ride him, often begging you to go until he can’t feel his legs. tonight, you take that request seriously. when he tries to get up to change positions, his legs are completely numb.

“baby, i can’t feel my legs,” he says, his voice a mix of awe and amusement.

you laugh, shaking his legs gently to get the blood flowing again. “guess i went a little harder today. sorry, baby.”

he chuckles, leaning back and watching you with a grin. “no complaints here.”

Chan

you and chan decide to try something new, ending up on the sturdy dining table. or so you thought. just as things are heating up, the table gives way with a loud crack, sending you both sprawling.

chan grabs you quickly, preventing you from falling face-first. “are you okay?” he asks, his voice filled with concern.

you both stay silent for a moment, the shock wearing off, then burst into laughter, the silliness of the situation too much to handle. your belly hurts from laughing so hard, and chan’s infectious laugh makes it even better.

“guess we’ll need a new table,” he says, grinning.

you nod, still giggling. “and maybe stick to the bed next time.”

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yaseraphine · 5 months ago

Text

pick a card 4 - your 2025 main lesson and themes.

KO-FI / MASTERLIST.

my last post : 2024, the year I lost my crown.

PILE 1

5 of cups, Page of Wands, 5 of Wands

“There are no traffic jams along the extra mile”

Main themes : Fun - Party - Getting ready - GRWM - Glow up - 5th house - Life path 5 - 2nd house - Venus and Sun - Leo energy - Taurus energy - Dating - Love - Silly crushes - Compliments - Bittersweet - Sinning - Karma - Situationship - “Toxic” relationship - Forced changes - Tower moment

As soon as I started your pile, Woman by Doja Cat started playing. This year, you will enter in your empress era. It will be soft and venusian but there is also a little edge to it, a really fiery spirit that I can feel for you .

There is also a really sensual and luxurious energy.

I see first and foremost two fives in your spread out of the three tarot cards that fell for you : 5 will be a significant number for you this year. Maybe you’re a life path five, maybe your personal life path number this year is 5 or maybe you’re completing OR starting something this year that took 5 years to finish/ will take 5 years to finish. I am mostly picking up on the fact that this year will have patterns of a life path number 5. In numerology, a personal number year 5 is all about new adventures, discovery, being social, curious, adaptable, flexible, fearless and fun-loving. This is what your year will be all about : fun and lightheartedness. However, the number 5 is also a signifier for change... Be prepared for a busy year !

This energy feels a lot like the 5th house in astrology. You will spend your year hanging out with friends, flirting, laughing, going out and dressing up. Major Venus and Sun energy. Leo and Taurus energy. I am seeing bubble baths, extended grooming routines, new hairstyles, looking good, smelling good, gossiping,.... It is a really luxurious, sensual, lighthearted, fun and ego driven year that you will have.

I am seeing trips to islands, vacation photos posted on social media, maybe you will start creating influencer type content this year just for the funsies. Bikini picks/flexing in front of the gym’s mirror in your insta story kinda vibe.

You will keep up with the good habits you got in 2024 and reap the benefits of the consistency you had towards attaining your ideal self-concept (looks, mentality,..)

You will appear extremely sexually and sensually attractive and will probably attract many suitors, which will obviously flatter your ego greatly.

However, all this romantic/sexual attention might lead to a lot of drama and hurt feelings so be careful. People will probably only approach you because you're hot. It will not bother you in the moment (because some of you will lowkey be in your player era lmaoo i mean go ahead i am not judging lol) but it will eventually take a toll on you. I am saying this because I keep on seeing Doja Cat in the Vegas music video. You will be as stunning as she is in the video (her look was peak in this) but your attractiveness could lead you to your downfall this year... It seems that you could try to take advantage as much as you can of the new found pretty privilege you just gained from your glow up in 2024.

You will play around with your suitors, just lighthearted love energy until that one specific person that will bring a ton of drama. This suitor will end up being a major relationship/situationship/talking stage you have this year and they will be exactly like the guy Doja Cat describes in the song :

“You ain't nothing but a-

Dog, player, ah get it

Fraud, player, ah get it

I understand, I understand

You ain't the man, you ain't a man (you ain't nothing but a-)

Hound dog, hound dog, hound dog

You ain't nothing but a-

Player gettin' valeted around in that ho whip

Two fingers up, one down when my toes ten

Flewed out with my boobs out, put a cork in it

Love it when you be cryin' out when I'm corseted

I don't think he gon' make it, do not let me start ragin'

****, I'm losin' my patience, this ain't stayin' in Vegas

(You ain't nothin' but a)

There's more sides to the story, I'ma tell everybody

Had your ass sittin' courtside with your arm around me

Had your ass sittin' first class with your burnt ass out in Abu Dhabi

Coulda been what we shoulda been

But you lost a bet, now you gotta find me

Find a seat

I ain't playin', that's hide and seek

High school when you finally peaked

Hound dog, couldn't find a treat

I'm a bad bitch, but”

This "bad relationship" will completely stop you from the high you got from your suitors and your fun filled lifestyle. You will feel betrayed and feel so stupid for trusting them.

This year, I think you will learn a major lesson about superficiality and how your looks and external validation is not what builds real confidence.

You will start the year with a burning fire and desire to get everything you want, maybe for some to do some shady shit. For most of you, it won’t go to extremes EXTREMES but a minority of you could do stuff like taking someone’s partner, playing around, generally indulging in really “devilish” (as in The Devil in tarot) activities. Most of you though might just “stick” to less problematic activities. You might indulge in addictive behaviors like gambling, drinking, smoking all that shit you find in Vegas. Partying, Raving, just having fun and being a little careless.

I am hearing “Everything that happens in Vegas stays in Vegas”. You might surround yourself with people who do pretty shady shit (not too bad like most of you won’t end up in jail) and who have morally grey ways of thinking. You will eventually adopt this mentality/ of some of those low vibrational beliefs, but it will be for a pretty short amount of time. You might join them because you want to enter this “good girl/boy/enby gone bad” era in your life. You are probably sick of people pleasing, being tamed, being a doormat, and being played because you’re “too nice”. The problem here, and the lesson too, is that you don’t have to lose all your morals and become mean and bitter just because people did the same to you.

“healed people hear differently”

What you will do the first half of the year, if you do not do it for the entire year, will catch up to you later on and you will be humbled quickly. Have fun until you get hit by this lesson that will come unexpectedly like a Tower moment.

This sounds scary, I know, but you might be young or just bitter because you were always picked last your entire life and now you're finally the hottest in your vicinity so I totally understand the anger and resentment you might feel. It’s okay, it will be overall a bittersweet year for you. You will have loads of fun but will suffer the consequences of some of your actions eventually.

One quote for you : “Quiet the mind and the soul will speak.”

You are called to detach a bit from everything that is physical and factual this year. You might embody Taurusian, Virgo, Capricorn, Aries and Leo energy at the beginning of the year and will slowly follow your intuition more. The North node going in Pisces this year in January will probably impact you quite a bit. It’s the body VS the mind VS the soul. You will gradually be pushed to each part of yourself to connect them together healthily, and not overtly rely on only one.

ORACLE CARDS

Change - I understand that nothing can grow or evolve without movement

Again, this card makes a lot of sense. A life path year number 5 is a signifier of fun and socialization but also of change. Falling into those bad habits/behaviors/mentality will be a catalyst for a change that didn’t occur last year. This change is much needed for you to develop a deep sense of self and a solid self-concept, not one that is solely based on physical attractiveness or external validation.

2. 28 - Energy / Orange (Virgo energy) : "Adventure and rapid progress are indicated, and it is specifically anchored to your true purpose and the direction you are currently taking. Oranges indicate that anything is possible, although you need to get that willpower working hard. There will be challenges but you can overcome them, and someone around you may need extra support at this time. Be wary of apathy, of losing interest too soon before giving something a chance, and of negativity”.

“A garden requires patient labor and attention. Plants do not grow merely to satisfy ambitions or to fulfill good intentions. They thrive because someone expended effort on them” - Liberty Hyde Bailey

This year will be just like I said : bittersweet. You will have amazing moments and then lower moods where you will feel sad or betrayed. Huge theme around relationships and interpersonal relationships. Last year you focused a lot on yourself. This year, you will lose yourself in your interpersonal connections as a lesson to strengthen your self-concept. Your dedication towards creating your dream life will be tested.

Pile 2.

“Progress is still progress no matter how slow it is”

“It is never too late to be who you might have been”

Main themes : Healing - Therapy - Transformation - Friendship - Soulmate relationship - Twin flame connection - Anxiety relief - Emotional intimacy - Virgo and Pisces energies are prominent - 12th house - Acceptance - Surrendering - Salvation - Love - Spiritual love - Spiritual growth and awakening - Help - Forgiveness

I think right now you might be frustrated at yourself. You are probably prone to pretty extreme overthinking and you feel like you wasted time thinking and planning or fantasizing about doing things instead of just doing them last year. You feel like time is running out and you might be starting this year with a lot of pessimistic thoughts. It is totally normal that you feel disappointed in yourself, it shows that you care about building a life that you desire. But, you struggle with assertiveness towards what you want. You might have an idea but you always find a way of seeing how it might not work while planning for it. You tend to give up pretty easily because you want everything to be perfect. You have this mentality where everything needs to be perfect before you can share it. Here is an example : "I need to practice more before sharing my covers online I can't post it like that it's not that good". The thing is, you don't need to be perfect in something to share it or put yourself out there. You have enough talent and potential and you will learn and refine your art while you are out there in front of the public. The feedback could be really beneficial for you.

There is only you and your fear of failure that is holding you back. Have the audacity of a straight man for a second and you will see how many blessings will fall into your lap. (sorry if you're a straight man lmaoo love y'all slayy queen). You're already that bitch, you're just the only one not seeing it.

This year, you will learn a major lesson regarding forgiveness towards yourself. You will be met with similar situations as last year, however this time you will try different approaches to avoid making the same mistakes, and you will do so without insulting yourself. You will break a pretty prominent cycle that you may have been stuck in for a few years now where you are really harsh on yourself for trying and failing. This negative self-talk that is tied to worrying and overthinking is what held you back from taking proper actions towards your goals/dreams/dream life all those years. This year, you will start being more gentle towards yourself and this will benefit you a lot.

“Actually, I am happier than ever”

12th house - Pisces energy / Virgo-Pisces axis

There is an interesting connection with pile 1 regarding pisces and virgo energy. I feel like the North node going to Pisces this 11th of January will push the collective to surrender more, be more compassionate towards themselves and others and accept that we cannot control everything. There is this sense that this year, you will finally find a way towards inner peace. It doesn’t mean that you’ll stop overthinking forever and altogether, it is simply impossible. You will just learn how to manage that overthinking, find healthy coping mechanisms that help you get you out of your head. You will accept that sometimes things happen in divine timing and that you cannot control every outcome. Any perfectionistic tendencies that you had and that often led to overthinking will be toned down this year.

I don’t think however that this epiphany will start at the beginning of the year. You will dismantle these ingrained bad habits throughout the year, step by step, as you will face similar lessons as last year but this time you will pass every test. Just be patient with yourself and everything will flow as they should.

The Fool, 2 of Cups, King of Cups + Ace of Wands

This year is obviously a year of starting over. You will be pushed to stop taking everything so seriously and just trust your gut instinct and the universe. You might naturally embody virgo and libra/venusian qualities which make you overly critical and passive. This year, the lesson is to embody these signs’ opposites’ qualities : Pisces and Aries energy. Trust the universe and blindly and confidently walk towards the unknown. Trust yourself, you’ve got this !

Honestly, reading this pile is pretty fascinating because your energy is exactly in tune with this year’s astrological transits. This year, many outer planets will change signs to aries or pisces. Both signs are significant as one shows the beginning of a cycle (Aries) and the other the end of a cycle (Pisces). This is exactly this. This year for you will be a year of transition towards a new beginning.

I see in the cards that, even though you might start the journey alone, you will eventually meet a soulmate along the way as you fear-less-ly work towards this cycle's end. I am seeing that this soulmate will not be a romantic soulmate for most of you. This will most likely be a friend or a mentor that you will unexpectedly meet towards the fall time I believe . September and especially October might be a significant time for your guy’s meeting and friendship beginning. They will most likely be opposite to you in many ways (ex : you are a virgo sun, they are a pisces sun, or you are a libra sun and they are an aries sun,..). Your friendship with this person will surprise you as your current friends and/or your past friends are/were probably completely different from this person. This relationship will be a breath of fresh air for you.

ORACLE CARDS

Self-esteem - I possess gifts of the soul that benefit me and others

Indecision - I use my intuition in all aspects of life

Trust yourself, believe in yourself. Try to listen to your intuition, find exercises to reconnect with your intuition and to learn to go with the flow.

A life changing sentence that one of my friends with an anxiety disorder told me is that “ You cannot reassure someone who is anxious”. This might resonate for some of you who struggle with anxiety. There is no way for you to get rid of this anxiety permanently but you can learn how to manage it through daily practices and exercises. This year might be the year you find a daily practice/method to help you cope healthily with your anxiety.

12 - Affection / Sorrel ( Taurus energy) : "New experiences are coming your way, which means you will feel prompted to find new ways of doing things. If you are seeking a solution, be more receptive to suggestions and openings. Ensure you are putting your true feelings into all that you are doing. A valuable proposition should come your way, but don’t get too carried away."

This is exactly what I was talking about above : you will find new healthy ways of coping with your toxic habits. This will be done through trials and errors, you will have to be resilient and willing to try again even after failing to have this new habit. But don’t worry, you can or will be able to count on the help of people, or someone around you. Just don't be afraid to ask for help, express your issues, don’t be afraid to seek help and you will be granted a helping hand that has good intentions towards you.

Pile 3.

“Normality is a paved road”

Main themes : 8th house - 10th house - Saturn - Pluto - Reputation - Money - Power - Fame - Hunger - Determination - Life path 22 - Life path 8 - Influence - Lana Del Rey , “Season of the Witch" - Dark Femininity/Masculinity - Lilith - Reconcialiation - Soulmate reconnection - Quiet confidence

Before I even started your pile, while choosing your picture I felt called to pick one that was quite different from the other two piles. Your energy feels very different and contrasts with the rest of the reading. There is a lethal confidence about you. I have a question first though : did you pick the pile 3 in my what do people like about you reading? I don’t know why this pile’s energy keep on coming back in the 3rd pile in every single one of my readings lol

Anyways, so for this year I think you’re starting it with a clear idea in mind : you have a plan, a vision board already made. This year, you are fearlessly going towards your goals. I am seeing cheetah and leopard prints, luxury hotels, bubbling champagne, Chanel perfume.. Most of you who chose this pile are looking to create your dream life where you’re independent. This year, “you will get that bag while also securing your own bag” I am hearing. I don't know if you watch TheWizardLiz or Manifestelle but your energy reminds me of them. Even if you're not a girl, it’s obvious that you’re entering a phase in your life where you’re self focused and tunnel visioned. You have a goal of creating your own empire and you are willing to put in the work and make the sacrifices needed for it.

This year , you are locking in. Period.

Knight of Pentacles, 4 of Swords, The World, King of Wands

“I believe that each soul has a plan - a pathway and direction - that it has come here to experience in this lifetime”

Julie Kay

This year, you will work diligently towards your goal. You might neglect your relationships a bit so be careful. Despite the fact that your spirit guides are proud of you for being so passionate and dedicated towards your dreams they still want to tell you that some of this passion needs to be poured to the people around you that supports you now and that always supported you, even at your lowest. For some of you, it’s a family member like a mother or a father, could an aunt or an uncle for others could be a sister, a brother or a grandparent for another group.

Your assertiveness and discipline is great but do not let your heart harden too much in the process. I am seeing that during summer, especially June and August, around the Lion’s Gate portal (8th of August), you will have mini “burnouts” because of the dedication you showed the first 6 months of the year. During that time, you will reconnect with a specific someone, a person from your past that you lost contact with. I feel like this might have been a “right person, wrong time” kind of situation. It could be a friendship, but for a lot of you this will unexpectedly develop into a romantic connection. I see a slow burn for you guys. Late night car drives while blasting your favorite songs. Dates on the beach at night time/or while the sun is setting. There is this really soft and romantic energy between you guys (omg I am so happy for you guys what!!). I find this so interesting that the quote that fell for you here is extracted from a book about love and soulmates. I haven’t read it yet but I am giving you the title if you want to read it. This might be relevant or eye opening for some of you : Soul Lessons to Soul Mate: Relationship Revolution by Julie Kay.

This person might be your life partner for some of you!!! I am so hyped congrats!! I am literally so excited for you guys lets goo

ORACLE CARDS

Health - I will honor the physical vessel that enshrines my soul

Be careful not to push yourself too hard this year. You might neglect your health, nutrition or physical cues this year and this could be detrimental for you. Make sure to drink enough water and eat plenty of vegetables and fruits. Don’t drink too much coffee or avoid relying on artificial stuff, like certain medicine or supplements to replace your lack of sleep or nutrients. Stay healthy, be happy <3

So many oracle cards of my Green Witch Oracle wanted to fall for you. I had to reshuffle so many times and still got 2 oracles cards instead of one. and, guess what ? They literally follow each other in the deck : You got the 34th and the 35th cards. again, soulmate/mirroring/twin flame energy. Pretty fascinating to say the least. What a duo you will make with this person !

34 - Attraction / Pansy (Libra energy) : "Pansies indicate that people are being pulled into your life who align well with you. Romance may be on the agenda, but this energy also helps build community and friendship circles, possibly where learning takes place. It is time to step back a little and relax into what is happening naturally. Hesitation and over-thinking could cause blockages, and watch out for personal deception and gossip."

35 - Focus / Stock (Sagittarius energy) : "Stocks offer confidence, calmness and a central place to rest amid turmoil and change. It is time to focus, to think more deeply and slow down. Your personal truth needs some attention, so don’t get lost in your present dealings. Stocks also indicate and lead you to a balanced place in emotional swings. Be careful of losing yourself amid the behaviors of others."

No much explanation needed. Your main lesson this year is to be able to find a work-life balance. You will be pushed to slow down in your grind multiple times to take care of your health, both physical and mental, and to nurture your interpersonal relationships. Overall a really sweet and deeply calming year awaits you.

#ipick a card #pick a card reading #pick a pile #pick a picture #divination #pac tarot #tarot cards #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #tarot reading #tarot reader #tarot #moon in leo

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dceasesd · 1 year ago

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why juni ba’s the boy wonder has my favorite jason characterization of any contemporary comic run: a needlessly in-depth analysis (pt.1)

oh boy oh boy am i excited for this one buckle up boys it’s gonna be a long one. analysis under the cut (WITH PICTURES!!)

i, like many others, have many thoughts and opinions about juni ba's the boy wonder that i'd like to express. i was having trouble formatting my rant, though, so i decided that it was easiest to just address some of the common complaints i've seen about the comic and jason's characterization and insert my ramblings throughout it. so far i've seen three main complaints:

the typical boiling down of jason's character to "the angry one"

his lack of strategy going into the fight with the demon is out-of-character

the neighbor's kid interaction

to start with the first one-- when introducing jason's character, in both the second and first issue, ba uses the descriptors "coarse", "bitter", "hardened", "brash" and, of course, "rageful".

so, yes-- i understand where people are having issues with this characterization. however, even if it's overplayed, it's still important to remember that jason is angry, and is driven, in part, by his anger at bruce and the joker. and, as ba highlights, he deserved to be! completely erasing jason's anger is just as bad as defining him with it.

i also don't think it's wholly accurate to say that ba is boiling jason down to just his anger. it might seem like that when only considering the dialogue and narration, but jason's behavior in the comic doesn't perfectly align with how the narrator describes him. while the narration describes him as "rageful" and could be an instance of generalization, jason's actions throughout the comic are more aligned with two other emotions/motivators: fear and despair. we never see jason get actually, properly angry; the closest we get is when he's seemingly annoyed by damian (which i believe could be performative) and when he becomes violent, accidentally hurting damian.

even in this instance, though, he is not driven to this violence by rage, but rather fear. so, while ba states in the narration that jason is driven by his anger, he contradicts himself by highlighting how jason's sadness and terror motivates his character. this could be interpreted as lousy writing on ba's part, but i'm not going to attribute the paradox to that inference. to me, it actually represents a critque of the "jason is the angry robin" generalization, because it calls to attention the discrepancies between how one is described versus reality, an issue that jason both faces in the comics (bruce using him as a cautionary tale when dying WASN'T HIS FAULT) and outside of the comics, as mentioned previously.

furthermore, this highlights the difference between what jason believes about bruce's perspective and bruce's actual perspective (according to damian). jason believes himself to be a "failure", but damian refutes this by describing his conversation with bruce concerning jason, a conversation that does not align with jason's belief. if you couldn't tell by now, perception versus reality is a BIG theme in this comic (and for jason's character in general!)

i was really fascinated by ba's take on jason, because it veered pretty far from a lot of contemporary comics, most of which do, unfortunately, play with the angry robin jason generalization. they've been doing a bit with his fear, too, which has either been pretty fun or the most awful thing ever (i'm looking at you zdarsky. gotham war was fucked up), but what makes ba's jason stand out to me is how he grapples with his grief.

this boy is so sad. ba's jason might actually be the saddest rendition of him i've seen in canon content. we've seen jason grapple a little bit with the despair rooted in his death and resurrection, mainly in lost days, where he cries 3 (?) times, fresh out of the pit and very traumatized.

even in this comic, though, he reacts to his grief with anger more prominently than sadness. that obviously doesn't mean the despair isn't there, though-- anger is just an easier outlet for it (which i could really get into the masculinity aspects of that, but then this would be wayyyyyy too long).

ba's jason, though? that motherfucker is so. sad.

christ he's depressing. AND THAT'S SUCH A FRESH PERSPECTIVE!!!!!!! THANK YOU JUNI BA!!!!!!

now i'm pretty sure some people would argue that this rendition in out of character because he's so sad. to me, though, he's still the same jason; he covers up his sadness with anger and pettiness, redirecting his own insecurities onto those around him to mask his true feelings.

ba quite literally illustrates this in the comic. whenever he is being his snide, normal self, he has his red hood mask on; but when he actually opens up to damian and expresses himself truthfully, the mask is off. ba is highlighting how the classic jason anger and bitterness is, in part, a performance and coping mechanism.

this post is already too long, so i'll go over the two other critques in a different post, which i will link below (eventually). if you guys have any thoughts you'd like to share or discuss, my dms and asks are completely open! if you made it this far, i hope you enjoyed my ranting. look out for another post soon! :))

part 2 / part 3

#using my english major for evil #this is very different from stuff i usually post so i hope you guys like it #i had a blast writing it #dc comics #jason todd #batman #dc #robin #red hood #batfamily #batfam #damian wayne #red hood: lost days #the boy wonder #juni ba #dc meta #jason todd meta #the boy wonder meta

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jarofstyles · 8 months ago

Note

Can you do some angsty jealousrry? Happy ending please!!

Yes 🙂‍↕️ there’s a spooky season theme to it hehe

Check out our Patreon

Warnings- angst, jealousy, a bit of manhandling, a lil toxic behavior, etc

——

Harry had been searching for her all night. The Halloween themed night at the pub was in full swing, the music throbbing, bodies grinding on the dance floor. He had lost track of her hours ago when she had left his place, her disappearance leaving him with a hollow feeling in his chest. But he wasn't about to give up that easily. He knew she was going to be here tonight, with or without him. With a determined scowl, he began to weave his way through the crowded room, his eyes scanning every face, every shadowy corner- which was easier said than done considering they were pumping that nasty fake fog that burned his nose and flashing the stupid strobe lights every so often.

Thankfully as he turned a corner, he spotted her. She was standing by the bar, sipping on a drink, her back to him. His shoulders sagged in relief as he recognized the curve of her neck, the way her styled hair fell in loose waves down her back. She was dressed as a Victorian ghost, all white and eerie, fitting for the spooky themed night.

What he didn’t like, though, was the asshat standing next to her wearing a stupid excuse of a pirate costume. No, that simply would not do. He felt a surge of possessiveness wash over him and he moved towards her without hesitation.

As he approached, he heard the guy lean in and say something to her. Y/N laughed, her head thrown back, exposing the long line of her throat. Harry's steps faltered for a moment, jealousy coursing through him like poison. Who the hell was this guy? And why the fuck was she laughing with him? He quickened his pace, his eyes narrowed. "Excuse me."

Harry tapped the guy on the shoulder, his voice laced with a dark undertone. The guy turned around, his eyes widening in recognition. "Harry... Styles?" he stammered, obviously starstruck, but he didn’t give a fuck. Harry ignored him, his focus solely on Y/N. "We need to talk." he demanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. Grabbing her arm, he began pulling her away from the bar. This wasn’t the place for the discussion.

"Harry, stop!" Y/N tried to pull her arm free, but Harry's grip was firm. Once they were outside, he spun her around to face him, his eyes blazing.

"Who the fuck was that guy?" he demanded, his voice low. There was an attempt to keep his composure there, but there wasn’t much of a follow through. He hated that someone else had been so close to her, especially after an argument. Rational thoughts were few and far between in this scenario.

Y/N crossed her arms, her expression defiant. "None of your business."

"None of my business?" Harry echoed, taking a step closer. "You're my girlfriend, Y/N. Everything about you is my business." They may have been fighting, but that didn’t mean he wanted her to run around and talk to other guys. All of this over the fact that he didn’t want to dress up over this stupid holiday? "You've been avoiding me, and you haven’t answered my fuckin’ messages. I don't like that. It stresses me out and you know it."

Y/N bit her lip, her face dropping to the ground as she tried to avoid his gaze. "I needed some space. Harry." she whispered. It was hard to know she was upset but right now he felt more overwhelmed than anything else.

"Space? Or a chance to flirt with some other guy?" Harry's face twisted in irritation. He grabbed her chin, making her look at him. "You’re the one not answering my calls. It’s driven me absolutely mad. I’ve been trying to fuckin’ talk to you. And I find you here anyways, laughing with some loser. You can’t just ignore me every time we fight.”

Her eyes were bubbling up with tears that he hated, her voice wobbly in the way that made his anger falter. Regardless of how upset he was, he didn’t like seeing her sad. "You hurt me, Harry. And then you expect me to just fall into your arms when you realize you messed up? To talk to you just because you feel like you want to?"

Harry's face fell, her words stinging. He sighed, releasing her chin and dragging his hand down his face. "I know, okay? I know. I was stupid. I was careless about your feelings. I was selfish.” His shoulders dropped as he looked at her, unsure how to properly convey it. The reason he’d been reaching out was to apologize even though he didn’t think it was that big of a deal, but evidently it was. “I’m sorry, my Angel. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings. I didn’t know how much you cared... about all of this." His hand waved around gesturing at her outfit. “I’ve just never found it to be a big deal. I didn’t know why you cared so much if I did anything with a costume. I still don’t.” That was his fault, he could admit. He hadn’t heard her out.

Y/N's face softened slightly, her arms uncrossing. "It's not just about the costume, Harry. It's about you showing that you care. That you're willing to do something silly or out of character for me. And you weren't. You brushed me off. And it hurt." Her voice broke on the last word, tears finally spilling over and making a trail down her cheek. It was his fault. Harry's heart ached. He hated seeing her cry.

“Fuck.” He sighed, pulling her into his arms and pressing her face into his chest. He didn’t care if the makeup stained his shirt. All he wanted was to make her feel better. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry I hurt you. M’sorry I was so stubborn.” He was sorry about all of it. He was sorry for not listening to her and for not understanding why it was so important to her. “I didn’t know how much it meant to you."

He paused, his voice lowering to a whisper as he ran a hand over her back, feeling the tears dampen his shirt. "I love you. I love you so much. I know I didn't show it in that moment, but I do. And I promise, m’gonna do better. I'll listen. I'll compromise. I'll dress up t’the next one. Promise. I'll- I'll even wear a onesie, or let y’put makeup on me or some shit if it's that important to you." He would do anything to make this right. To make her smile again. He felt a little silly about it now. Considering he had always tried to be a good partner, to let this be a fight was something he considered to be very stupid now.

Y/N sniffled, her arms wrapping around his waist. "It's not about you dressing up or not, Harry. It's about you showing that you care. That you're willing to make an effort. And you are now. You're promising to listen and compromise. That's what matters." She tilted her head back, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "I love you too. So much."

Harry let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through him. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers. "Okay. Okay, we'll figure it out, m’love. Together."

#jarofstyles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #blurb #harry styles blurbs #jarofstyles fictober #Jealousrry #harry styles angst #harry angst

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thedemoninme141 · 2 months ago

Text

Restless Dreams.

Pairings: Wednesday x Female reader. Wordcount: 8.8K-ish.

Summary: You had been missing for a year, and Wednesday refused to give up on you.

Theme: Angst, Heavy Angst! Loss.

Warnings: (SPOILERS IN THE COMMENTS SO DON'T GO DOWN THERE) The theme's a bit vague, but it would all clear up at the end kinda like my lost valentine's lol.

The forest had become her home now.

Wednesday stepped over a fallen branch, the crunch of dead leaves beneath her boots the only sound she acknowledged. She had memorized every inch of this place—every twisted root, every gnarled tree that stretched into the sky like skeletal fingers.

A year ago, this forest had been foreign. Now, it felt more familiar than her dorm room

She had been coming here, retracing the same paths, searching for something—anything—that might lead her to the truth. It didn’t matter if it was midday or the dead of night. This place had long stopped feeling like a mystery to solve and instead had become a graveyard of unanswered questions, one she refused to leave.

“Wednesday,” Enid’s voice came from behind, soft but tired. “It’s getting dark.”

“I’m aware,” Wednesday said, not stopping.

“I just— I don’t think we should be out here too long,” Enid added, “The sun’s setting and you know how the fog gets when it’s—”

“Thick enough to make a person vanish between blinks,” Wednesday finished flatly. “Yes, I remember.”

"Wednesday, it's been hours…" Enid’s voice was careful, but there was an edge to it—frustration, concern, exhaustion wrapped together. "Maybe we should take a break? You haven’t eaten all day, and I know you don’t need food like a normal person, but even vampires need a blood bag every once in a while."

"I am not a vampire," Wednesday said flatly.

"Debatable." Enid swatted at a mosquito buzzing near her arm. "Look, I get it. I do. But… we’ve covered this entire area before. If she was here, we would’ve found something by now. I mean, what’s gonna be different this time?"

Wednesday didn’t answer immediately. It wasn’t about anything being different—it was about the need to keep looking. If she stopped, even for a moment, the silence would catch up to her, and she would hear it again.

The thought of stopping, of turning back again, made her stomach turn. You were still out there. You had to be.

Enid didn’t understand. No one did. They thought they knew loss, thought they understood what it meant to grieve, but they had never felt it like this. Like an iron stake driven straight through the chest, twisted just enough to make sure it never healed.

They didn’t know what it was like to go to sleep and waking up reaching for someone who was no longer there.

They didn’t know what it was like to walk these woods for a year, chasing nothing but echoes.

Enid stepped closer, voice softer now. "She wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself."

Wednesday’s jaw clenched.

"You don’t know what she would have wanted."

"You know she’s not here," Enid’s voice was softer now, cautious. As if she knew she was stepping on a live wire.

"You don’t know that."

Enid exhaled sharply, her fingers curling at her sides. "I know you don’t want to hear this, but it’s been so long. If there was something to find, we would’ve found it by now."

Wednesday felt the sharp sting of frustration curling in her chest. The anger wasn’t at Enid—it never was. But hearing the words spoken aloud, hearing the acceptance in Enid’s voice, made her skin crawl.

Because Wednesday could never accept it. Not when you were still out there somewhere.

“You don’t have to keep coming with me,” Wednesday said.

“You say that every time,” Enid replied, folding her arms. “And every time I say the same thing: I’m not letting you do this alone.”

“I’m not doing this for company. Or comfort.”

“I know.” Enid stepped around a root, her voice quieter now. “But I also know you haven’t slept in two days.”

“I’ll sleep when I find her,” Wednesday muttered as she kept walking.

Enid didn’t leave.

She never did. Even when Wednesday’s silence turned cold. Even when her obsession became something unhealthy, something suffocating. Even when weeks turned into months and the world moved on—Enid stayed.

"Where did you go?" Wednesday whispered, sure that Enid didn't even hear.. And for a moment, Wednesday could almost hear the voice—soft, teasing—

“I swear to God, you read like it’s a competition,” you’d said, pulling a chair up next to her in the library. “How many horror novels does one person need?”

Wednesday didn’t look up from her book, only flicked her eyes in your direction with a silent disdain that she pretended wasn’t affection. “Apparently, all of them. But unfortunately, this library lacks proper horror literature," she mused, more to herself than to you. "A disappointment, really. Perhaps I should donate a collection of books containing more substantial content. Serial killers. Cannibalism. The real horrors of humanity. Maybe it would toughen the students here."

And then, your laugh.

It broke through the silence of the library like sunlight, unbothered by the weight of the world. It always made something uncomfortable twist in Wednesday’s chest. Something… warm. Terrifyingly warm.

She glanced at you from the corner of her eye. You were leaning your head on her shoulder now, your own book resting in your lap, barely touched.

“You’re not reading.”

“I’m resting. On something cold, and slightly bony, and weirdly comforting.”

“I’m not a pillow.”

“You are now.” You shifted just enough to get comfortable. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Wednesday didn’t answer. She didn’t move either.

She stared down at her book and realized she hadn’t processed a word on the page. Her heart was thudding in her ears, and your hair smelled like lavender. She hated how aware she was of your breathing. How easily you just fit beside her, like it was natural. And when you reached for her hand under the table, brushing your pinky against hers, she didn’t pull away.

For a girl who made a hobby out of death, that moment felt a lot like being alive.

“Wednesday,” Enid’s voice pulled her violently back to the present.

The clearing was darker now. Shadows clung to the trees like bruises. The temperature had dropped too, she could see her breath now, faint mist curling from her lips. It wasn’t supposed to be this cold. Not yet.

“We need to go,” Enid said, stepping beside her. “It’s already too dark.”

“No,” Wednesday said, scanning the edges of the trees. “We haven’t checked the northern slope yet. Or the embankment.”

“We can’t see anything anymore. Look around.” Enid held up her flashlight, its beam barely piercing the thickening fog. “If we get turned around again, we won’t find our way back.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do,” Enid snapped, harsher than usual. “I care if you get lost. Or hurt. Or god forbid something worse. You’re not invincible, Wednesday. And this place, it’s not right.”

Wednesday didn’t respond. Her jaw was clenched so tight it hurt.

After a moment, Enid stepped in front of her. “You can come back tomorrow. I’ll even come with you again. But right now, we have to go.”

Something behind her ribs cracked, but she didn’t let it show. She stared at the ground, fists tight at her sides.

You would’ve said the same thing, wouldn’t you? Would’ve tugged her sleeve, tilted your head and asked her to stop pushing herself so hard. You would’ve given your infuriating smile. You would’ve made her listen.

And maybe if she had listened back then.… you wouldn’t be gone.

Finally, she nodded once. Sharp. Mechanical. And turned away.

Enid fell into step beside her. They said nothing as they retraced their path, the forest swallowing their footprints behind them like they’d never been there.

But even as the trees blurred in the fog, even as the light faded into ink and the cold gnawed at her bones, Wednesday’s thoughts stayed fixed.

Fixed on your smile.

Your laugh.

Your warmth on her shoulder.

And the terrible, hollow question that echoed louder every night.

Where did you go?

No.

Worse.

Why did you leave her behind?

Or had she been the one who left you?

She didn’t know.

Not yet.

But the forest did.

And she would come back tomorrow.

Again.

And again.

Until it told her the truth.

Enid was already asleep.

She lay curled up under her blankets, her breathing slow and steady, the rise and fall of her chest unbothered by the world’s cruelty. Wednesday paused, watching Enid as she shifted in her sleep.

She envied her.

Sleep.

When was the last time she had really slept?

She tried to recall it—tried to remember the sensation of willingly closing her eyes, of feeling the weight of exhaustion drag her under without resistance.

But all she could remember was the last time she received a text from you.

“Goodnight, Wednesday. Try not to spend all night thinking about ways to traumatize your classmates <3”

She could still picture it. The way her phone screen had lit up in the darkness of the dorm. The way she had stared at your words, rolling her eyes, her fingers twitching to type a response—something sharp, something scathing—only to settle for her usual:

“I’ll consider it.”

It was a ritual. Your last message of the night, her reluctant reply, the knowledge that in the morning, your name would be the first notification she’d see.

It wasn’t fair how much she missed something so small. The way you used to text her at ungodly hours, just to tell her something ridiculous—"I just saw a bat outside, it made me think of you," or "Do you think ghosts get lonely?" or "Wednesday, if I ever get murdered, promise me you’ll make it a really dramatic revenge quest, okay?"

She used to roll her eyes at you. Tell you to let her sleep. That you were insufferable. That she had no time for these pointless conversations.

And now?

Now she would give anything to see your name on her screen again.

She sat down on the edge of her bed, fingers curling into the blanket, the exhaustion pressing against her skull but never quite sinking in.

She remembered the night you had slept here.

You had dozed off beside her, curled into the space that didn’t belong to you, your head resting against her arm, your breathing soft and slow. She had felt the warmth of you, the way your body shifted in sleep, your fingers loosely tangled in the fabric of her sleeve.

She should have woken you up. Should have told you to leave, to return to your own space.

But she didn’t.

Because the moment she moved, the moment she even thought about pushing you away, she felt something crack deep inside her chest.

She wasn’t used to warmth. She wasn’t used to the way it felt to have someone willingly close, someone who trusted her enough to sleep beside her, to reach for her even unconsciously.

She had barely breathed that night, too aware of the steady rhythm of yours. Too aware of how much she wanted to keep you there.

She hated it.

Hated that something as simple as your presence had unraveled something deep inside her, something she couldn’t name, something she didn’t want to name.

But she never told you to move.

She just listened to the steady rhythm of your breathing, the way your heartbeat thumped against her ribs where your chest was pressed to hers.

She let herself have this moment.

Because she knew that, eventually, you would wake up.

And this would be over.

She hadn’t realized then how much she would regret not memorizing every second of it.

Because now the space beside her was empty.

Wednesday’s fingers twitched, and before she could stop herself, she reached for her phone, unlocking it with a practiced motion. She shouldn’t look at it. She knew she shouldn’t.

But she did.

The text was still there.

"I am still here now, all alone… waiting for you."

She had never told Enid about it. Never told anyone.

Because she knew what they would say. That it was fake. That it was someone playing a cruel joke.

But she knew better.

Knew your words. Knew the way you phrased things.

It was you.

It had to be you.

But where?

What was "here"?

She had gone over it in her mind a thousand times. Had traced every possibility, every lead, every theory. But the answers never came.

Instead, all she had were pieces of memories that didn’t make sense.

Flashes, visions, she has no idea.

You, standing in the forest.

You, walking behind someone.

Following them into the trees.

Following who?

Her memory fractured at the edges, blurred and unfocused, like something had been wiped clean, like something had been stolen from her.

Why couldn’t she remember?

She clenched her jaw, her breathing steady but uneven in her chest. The wind howled outside the window, and in the silence that followed, she swore she heard it again.

Your voice.

Calling her.

Soft. Echoing.

"In our special place."

She gritted her teeth.

She didn’t remember.

She didn’t remember any special place.

But if you were calling her there—if you were waiting for her—

Then she would find you.

No matter what it took.

The room was still steeped in darkness when Wednesday sat up, the weight of another sleepless night pressing against her bones. She didn’t fight it. Didn’t try to rub the exhaustion from her eyes or stretch out the stiffness in her joints. It didn’t matter. None of it did.

She pulled on her boots with sharp, efficient movements, lacing them tight, making sure they wouldn’t come loose if she had to move fast. The cold air bit at her skin as she shrugged on her coat, but she barely registered it. Her mind was already elsewhere—out there, in the woods, searching.

Because maybe today would be different.

Maybe today, something would change.

She didn’t notice Enid stirring at first. The blonde groaned softly, rolling over, her face still half-buried in the pillow. But the sound of Wednesday adjusting the strap of her bag, the buckle clicking into place, was enough to pull her further from sleep.

"Wednesday," Enid’s voice was hoarse with sleep, but there was a thread of frustration laced in it. "You’re going out again?"

Wednesday didn’t answer. She was already securing the last of her things, mentally mapping out the route she was going to take.

"Jesus, Wens, the sun’s not even up yet." Enid pushed herself up, "At least wait until morning. And eat something first."

"I don’t have time for that."

"You never have time for that." Enid swung her legs over the side of the bed, rubbing a hand over her face before leveling Wednesday with a look. "When was the last time you ate?"

Wednesday didn’t reply.

Enid sighed, the kind of exasperated, defeated sound that she had made too many times to count over the past year. "You have to stop doing this to yourself."

Wednesday fastened the last button on her coat, adjusting the high collar around her neck. "I have to go before the trail gets colder."

"The trail is already cold." Enid’s voice sharpened with something almost like anger, but the way her throat tightened made it clear it wasn’t directed at Wednesday.

Wednesday didn’t respond. She just kept moving, grabbing the notebook where she had scrawled every dead-end lead, every place she had searched, every scrap of information that meant nothing.

A year of nothing.

"Wednesday."

She heard the shift in Enid’s tone before she turned, saw the way her friend’s expression tightened, how her claws had slipped out just a little, pressing into the blanket.

"You’re going to look in the same places again." Enid’s voice was quieter now, but there was an edge beneath it. "You’ve searched them a hundred times."

"And I’ll search them a hundred more," Wednesday said, her voice flat, controlled.

"Why?" Enid asked, frustration cracking through her words. "What do you think is going to happen? You think you’re just going to find something new all of a sudden? That maybe this time you’ll find some clue that magically wasn’t there before? You go, you walk those woods like a ghost, and you come back with nothing. Nothing, Wednesday. Don’t you get it? She’s—”

Wednesday’s face twitched, just barely. But it was there. That flicker of something fragile.

Enid’s breath caught, guilt washing over her. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just…” Her arms dropped to her sides helplessly. “I don’t want you to get lost too.” Enid’s voice was quieter now. “Like Y/N did.”

Wednesday's grip tightened on the strap of her bag

Enid swallowed, glancing toward the window, toward the forest beyond. “She went in with you that night. You were looking for me. For Eugene. And then…” She hesitated. “Then you got separated.”

“You and Eugene were found,” Wednesday said, voice steady. “She wasn’t.”

Enid nodded. “Yeah. We were.”

A pause. Then, carefully: “Do you blame yourself?”

Wednesday didn’t hesitate. “Of course I do. I asked her to go in there with me."

Enid’s breath hitched.

“I should have told her to stay put,” Wednesday said, quieter now. “She shouldn’t have followed me.”

Enid looked down at her hands, gripping the blanket again. “Wednesday…”

“She never would have been in that forest if it wasn’t for me,” Wednesday continued, her voice sharp, precise. “I should have kept her safe. I should have—”

“She wouldn’t have listened,” Enid said gently. “You know that. She loved you. If you were going into hell, she would’ve followed with a smile.”

“I should have made her listen.”

“Wednesday…” Enid reached out, fingers grazing Wednesday’s sleeve. “No one knew what Thornhill had planned. No one knew how far she’d go.”

“I knew she was dangerous,” Wednesday whispered. “And still I let her come with me. I thought I could control the outcome. That I’d find you and Eugene and bring everyone back.”

Enid swallowed. “You did bring us back.”

“But not her.” Wednesday’s eyes darkened, her jaw set. “I found Thornhill. After. She was trying to run. I stopped her.”

Enid’s brows furrowed. “I know… You said she confessed.”

“She did. She admitted everything—taking you, Eugene, locking you up. She told me how she did it. She laughed. Like it was some game. But she said she didn’t touch Y/N.” Wednesday snapped. “Over and over. She swore she never saw her. That she had nothing to do with it.”

Enid hesitated. “Do you believe her?”

Wednesday stared into the dim light for a long moment.

“I believe she knew something.”

“And?”

Wednesday exhaled. “I lost control.”

Enid’s expression softened. “Wednesday—”

“I let my anger decide. I thought she was taunting me. Holding it back just to hurt me. So I…”

“You killed her.”

“Yes.”

There was no hesitation. No shame in her voice. Only exhaustion.

“I left her in the woods,” Wednesday said. “Her corpse fed the wolves. She deserved worse.”

Enid crossed her arms. “But she might’ve known more. Something she didn’t get to say.”

“She should’ve said it when she had the chance.”

Silence settled again. The cold seeped in through the windows.

“I just don’t want you to get lost too,” Enid whispered. “That forest… it takes things. People. Time. Hope. Every time you go out there, it feels like I lose you more too.”

“I can still hear her,” she said. “Some nights. Calling me back to the forest.”

Enid looked at her, terrified and heartbroken all at once.

“She says she’s waiting,” Wednesday whispered. “She says she’s alone. She wants me to find her. And I will. I have to.”

“Do you really think Y/N is…” Enid trailed off, hesitant.

Alive?

The word didn’t need to be spoken. It hung between them, heavy and unrelenting.

Wednesday’s answer was immediate.

“Yes.”

Enid blinked.

“You really think she’s out there?” Enid asked, quiet now, cautious.

Wednesday’s gaze was unwavering.

“She has to be.”

“We should've brought a metal detector or something,” Eugene said, adjusting his glasses. “Or I don’t know one of those search dogs.”

Enid shot him a look. “And where exactly were we supposed to find one?”

Eugene shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s gotta be someone in Jericho who has a German shepherd."

Wednesday ignored them, tuning out their voices. Her mind was elsewhere. Always elsewhere.

On you.

Your eyes.

The way they had always looked at her—unafraid, unwavering. Like they could see straight through the spikes she had carefully built around herself.

She clenched her jaw and kept walking.

“I mean, I get it,” Eugene continued, rubbing his arms against the cold. “If it were one of you guys missing, I’d never stop looking either. It’s just… we keep looking in the same places. If she were here, wouldn’t we have found something by now?"

Wednesday clenched her jaw. "She’s here."

Because she could feel it.

Because every time she stepped into these woods, it was as if the air thickened with something unseen, something almost tangible. A presence. A whisper of something unfinished.

Because when she closed her eyes, she could still see your gaze.

Your eyes had always been different. They weren’t sharp like hers, weren’t calculating like those of her foes. They weren’t soft either—no, softness would have never survived her. Instead, they were steady. Steady in a way that unsettled her, in a way that saw past the jagged edges of her mind, past the walls she had meticulously built.

You saw her.

And you never turned away.

It had rained that day.

You had called it a date. Wednesday had called it an unfortunate consequence of poor cafeteria coffee.

“You’re staring again,” she said flatly, though the corners of her mouth twitched.

“Well, you’re cute when you pretend to hate this,” you whispered, tapping her cup. “But I know you like it.”

“I am going to murder you in your sleep if you call me cute again.” she replied.

“Aw. You say the sweetest things.”

It started to rain halfway through your walk back. Most people would’ve ducked for cover—but not you.

You stepped into the open like it was a stage. You twirled once, arms out, water matting your hair. You laughed—this full, uninhibited sound that cracked through Wednesday’s ribcage like thunder.

“Come on, Wends!” you called out, spinning. “Live a little.”

She raised her umbrella higher and stared at you. “I am quite literally already living. Getting pneumonia would shorten that.”

You had only laughed again, shaking your head as you continued dancing in the rain. People walking past gave you strange looks, but you didn’t seem to care. You never did.

And Wednesday…

She had watched you.

Watched the way your smile reached your eyes, the way you had been utterly and completely yourself.

Something in her chest had ached that day, though she hadn’t understood it at the time.

Now, as she stood in this godforsaken forest, searching for you—again—she wished she had stepped forward.

She wished she had let the rain soak into her skin.

She wished she had taken your hand.

“We shouldn’t go deeper,” he said. “The signal’s dying again.”

“We’re close to the western basin,” Wednesday said. “That’s where the ground sinks. She could’ve—”

“Wednesday,” Enid cut in gently, stepping forward. “We’ve been there. So many times.”

“I might have missed something.”

“You didn’t.”

Silence.

Enid placed a hand on her arm. “We’re not giving up, okay? We can try again tomorrow?”

Wednesday’s hands curled into fists.

Tomorrow.

She was so tired of tomorrows.

Wednesday felt it in her bones.

The exhaustion, the weight of it pressing against her skin like lead. Every movement felt heavier than the last, her limbs slow, her breaths shallower than they should be. She knew what she was doing to herself. The human body had limits, and she had been testing hers for far too long.

But it didn’t matter.

Because what if?

What if you were still out there, somewhere in that cursed forest, waiting for her? What if you were cold, stuck somewhere she hadn’t looked yet? What if you were—

A plate was shoved in front of her face.

She blinked, looking up.

Enid stood there, arms crossed, "Eat," she said simply, “I got something simple,” Enid said, cautious. “Soup, bread, nothing crazy. You need to eat, Wends.”

Wednesday kept staring at the floor, hands loosely clasped in her lap.

“Come on,” Enid urged, nudging the container toward her. “Just a few bites.”

Wednesday finally turned her head, her expression unreadable. “I’m not hungry.”

“You weren’t hungry yesterday either,” Enid pointed out. “Or the day before that. And guess what? That’s not sustainable.”

Wednesday exhaled sharply through her nose, irritation flickering to life. “I’ll eat when I need to.”

Enid’s shoulders dropped, frustration clear now. “That’s not how it works, Wednesday. You don’t just run on spite and caffeine forever.”

“I’ve done well enough so far.”

Enid folded her arms. “You have not. You’re exhausted. You’re starving. You're—” Wednesday didn't hear her words, her mind, already going back again, when you had brought her breakfast...

“You love me,” you had grinned.

“I tolerate you. Vaguely.”

You’d kissed her on the cheek then, soft and warm. She had felt it for the rest of the day.

“Please. Just… eat a few bites. For her, if not for yourself. You won’t be able to search for Y/N if you get sick," Enid reasoned.

Wednesday’s jaw clenched.

She didn’t argue.

Didn’t roll her eyes.

Didn’t push the food away this time.

Instead, she picked up the fork, took a single bite.

The food felt foreign in her mouth. Too warm. Too much. It settled in her stomach uncomfortably, like it didn’t belong.

But she kept eating. A few more bites. Just enough to satisfy Enid, to make her stop looking at her like that. Like she was worried. Like she cared too much.

And as she chewed, as she swallowed, her mind drifted.

What if you were out there, hungry?

What if you hadn’t eaten in days, just like her? What if you were waiting—starving—just hoping that someone would come for you?

What if she had failed you in more ways than one?

She set the fork down.

"I’m done," she said.

Enid frowned. "Wednesday—"

"I said I’m done."

Enid exhaled, rubbing her temple like she was trying to be patient. Like she was trying not to snap.

Wednesday could feel it.

The tension.

The weight of too many unspoken words.

And then, finally—

“It’s been a year, Wends…” Her voice was quiet, careful. “You haven’t been attending your classes that much. Weems said—”

“Weems can go to hell.”

Enid flinched at the sharpness of the words.

“My classes aren’t more important than finding Y/N.”

“I know that,” Enid said quickly. “It’s just… they’re worried. I’m worried. Bianca wanted to go with you too.”

Wednesday scoffed. “I don’t want her pity.” Her gaze flickered to Enid. “I don’t need your pity either.”

Enid frowned. “It’s not pity, Wednesday.”

“Then what is it?” Wednesday’s tone was cold, cutting. “Because all I see is you following me around, making pathetic attempts to pull me away from this, like you think I’ll just move on if you push hard enough.”

Enid inhaled sharply, hurt flashing across her face. “That’s not—”

“That’s exactly what you’re doing,” Wednesday interrupted, voice like ice. “You’re just waiting for me to give up so you can pretend everything is fine again. That Y/N was never here to begin with.”

Enid shook her head. “That’s not true—”

“You want me to stop looking.” Wednesday’s fingers curled into fists. “Because it makes you uncomfortable. Because it makes everyone uncomfortable. But I don’t care.”

Enid swallowed, clearly holding back something.

But Wednesday wasn’t done.

“You moved on because it’s easier to pretend she’s dead than to admit that we failed her,” Wednesday pressed, voice quieter now, but no less sharp. “I won’t do that.”

Enid clenched her jaw. “You think that’s what I did? That I just—what—forgot her?”

Wednesday didn’t answer.

Enid exhaled, rubbing a hand down her face. “God, Wednesday, do you even hear yourself? You act like I don’t miss her too. Like Eugene doesn’t. Like everyone else at Nevermore didn’t love her too.”

Wednesday’s throat tightened.

“She was our friend,” Enid continued, voice shaking now. “She was my friend too. And yeah, maybe I’m trying to be realistic about this because someone has to be.”

Wednesday refused to meet her eyes.

Enid sighed again, exhausted. Defeated.

“That’s really unfair, Wednesday.”

Wednesday didn’t respond.

Enid ran a hand through her hair, then turned toward her bed. “I’m going to sleep,” she said, voice quieter now. “If you go looking again… wake me up.”

She climbed under her blankets, pulling them tight around herself, facing away from Wednesday.

The room fell into silence once more.

Wednesday sat perfectly still, the weight of her words pressing down on her.

She knew she had gone too far.

But she also knew Enid wouldn’t leave.

She knew.

Which is why she didn’t wake Enid. Or Eugene.

They had started looking with her when this all began—when your disappearance was still fresh and everyone believed it was only a matter of time before they found you huddled in some ravine, cold and bruised but alive. But now?

Now it had been a year.

And she couldn’t take the pity in their eyes anymore.

Even when they tried to hide it, it was there. The sideways glances. The careful silences. The way they offered suggestions but stopped short, as if worried she might break if they said the wrong thing.

So she left without telling anyone.

Let them sleep.

Let them forget.

She couldn’t.

She wouldn’t.

The wind moved through the trees above like whispers. Cold. Familiar.

The same wind she remembered from that day.

The last anniversary.

Not the one this year—this year she had spent it sitting alone in her dorm, staring at the wall until the sun went down. That day had felt like being buried alive.

But the one before it…

The last anniversary with you.

You had remembered.

Of course you had.

You always remembered the things that mattered...

She remembered the way you had dragged her through Jericho that day, pointing out things that you claimed were secretly part of your anniversary “scavenger hunt”—lies, obviously. Poorly disguised. But charming in a way she had never admitted aloud.

You had ended the day with a small, stupid paper bag. “Happy Anniversary,” you said, pushing it into her hands.

She had expected something ridiculous.

Instead, she had pulled out a carefully crafted object—an antique-style wind-up raven, carved from deep obsidian stone, with delicate mechanical wings that fluttered when wound. You had made it sing—quiet, eerie little chirps that mimicked a real raven’s call. It perched on a brass base that you’d engraved by hand.

She had flipped it over and found the words etched in tiny, imperfect strokes:

“So you never have to be alone when I’m not with you. Happy anniversary!”

“Happy anniversary,” she murmured to the trees now.

And somewhere, she imagined your voice answering her, light and teasing.

“Wends, you’re out here again? Didn’t we agree last time not to spend special days chasing cryptids?”

She turned her head slowly. Nothing. Of course nothing.

But that didn’t stop her from hearing you.

“Maybe check under that tree root. I might be curled up with the worms.”

You were always there, in the static between the rustling leaves. In the hush of her own breath.

“You're going to dig a trench into this forest if you keep pacing the same way every week,” you said, imaginary and infuriatingly amused.

Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “You would’ve done the same.”

“Nope,” your voice teased. “I would’ve brought a sandwich and a better flashlight. And probably some bug spray.”

She almost smiled.

Almost.

She kept walking. There wasn’t a path here, but she didn’t need one. Her feet knew where to go—toward that hollow near the creek where she’d looked a thousand times. Toward the broken tree stump you once dared her to climb, only to fall off and sprain your ankle laughing. Toward the mossy patch where you swore you saw a ghost deer.

“Are you sure you want to look under every rock, Wends?” you whispered, somewhere behind her eyes. “Because I swear I’m not hiding under a mushroom.”

“You’d be the kind of idiot to hide under a mushroom,” she muttered back.

"Only because you’d never think to look there. Just like you aren't looking right where I am."

She paused. For a long moment, she just stood there, listening to the wind. It moved through the branches like a memory trying to find its voice.

She crouched slowly, her boots digging into wet soil, brushing leaves aside with gloved fingers. Nothing. Just dirt, roots, decay.

She imagined your voice again, this time softer.

“You already know where I am, Wends…”

Her breath caught.

The fog thickened. The trees blurred.

She hated this place.

"Why did you follow me?" she asked the fog. "Why didn’t you just refuse!"

She didn’t expect an answer. She didn’t get one.

But in her mind’s eye, she could see you tilting your head, grinning, eyes warm like morning sunlight.

"Because you asked me Wends and I trusted you."

“I should’ve said something... when I still had you...”

“You did. In your own way. In every stare. Every time you stayed longer than you meant to.”

“I didn’t want this.”

The voice in her head sounded so close now. She could almost feel your breath.

“No. But you let yourself have it. Just once. And that scared you more than anything. Was it one of the reasons you did it?”

Her knees shook. She stumbled back, breath catching in her throat. No.

Her breath was uneven. Her boots shifted on the leaves, and the cold bit harder than before.

Your voice was quiet now. Just a murmur.

“You already know where I am, Wends…”

Wednesday froze.

The raven in her hand felt like it doubled in weight.

Restless dreams...

Wednesday sat beside you on the crooked log near the shore, her boots almost brushing against the moss. You were close—too close, at least according to her rules—but she didn’t move. She could feel your shoulder almost graze hers whenever you shifted. And she didn’t move.

You were talking again, as always. And for once, Wednesday wasn’t thinking about how to quiet you. She was listening.

“I kinda used to hate this part of the forest,” you said softly, your eyes on the lake. “When I first got to Nevermore, I used to come here thinking if I stared long enough, it might swallow me whole. I don’t know why.”

Wednesday blinked, turning slightly. “And now?”

You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Now it feels like this place knows things.” you had said. “Like... even if you don’t tell it your secrets, it already has them?”

She stared at you. You weren’t usually this serious, not when the sun was up. That was your rule—sad things belonged to the night, you used to say.

You pulled your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them. “You think I’m full of sunshine and jokes and all that ‘live, laugh, love’ crap, right?”

“I think you’re worse than Enid,” Wednesday said without hesitation.

You snorted. “That bad?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” you muttered. “I try.”

She watched you, studied the corner of your mouth, the lines that never seemed to stay in one place—always twisting into smirks, grins, something lively. But now… now your face was still.

“Did I ever tell you I didn’t grow up in a normal house?”

Wednesday blinked. “That assumes I thought you did.”

You snorted softly. “No, I mean… like, not normal-normal. Not even Addams-level weird. I mean messed up.”

That got her attention.

Your voice had shifted. No teasing. No laughing. Just that quiet, haunted tone.

“I wasn’t always like this. You know. Bright. Loud. I… used to be really, really quiet. Scared of everything.”

Wednesday stayed silent. She didn’t move.

You kept your eyes on the lake.

“My family,” you said, and your voice cracked. “They weren’t like other people.”

Wednesday’s chest felt tight all of a sudden.

“They were witches. Powerful ones. Not the Wiccan kind. Not the Nevermore kind. I mean real, blood-bound, dark witches. Obsessed with power. Obsessed with the old ways.”

You swallowed, lips dry.

“They believed that power came through sacrifice. Innocent blood. The younger, the purer, the better.”

Wednesday didn’t breathe.

“I was a child,” you said, voice distant. “And I was innocent too. But I was theirs. And that meant… I was off-limits.”

Her hands curled into fists in her lap.

“So they made me fear them. They told me to make friends. Told me to bring them home to play. And I did. God, Wends... I did." Your voice cracked, "I didn’t know what I was leading those kids into. I thought… I thought we were just playing.”

You laughed bitterly.

Wednesday looked at you then. Really looked.

You, the one who filled her days with unbearable noise and color.

You, the one who danced in the rain.

You, the one who spun through life like nothing could ever touch you.

You were this.

You had always been this.

“I was ten when I figured it out,” you whispered. “There was this girl… smaller than me. Shy. She looked up to me. I—” Your voice broke. You looked down. “They asked me to bring her to the woods. Said they’d show me how to be ‘strong like them.’”

She already knew how that story ended.

“I told someone. I didn’t know what would happen next. But I couldn’t do it. Not again. I told a teacher. The cops came. People in suits. They didn’t tell me anything after that. Just packed me up and dumped me in an orphanage.”

You looked away from the water now. Right at her.

“That’s why I’m like this, Wends. Why I laugh so much. Why I’m so loud. It’s armor. If I make enough noise, maybe I can drown it all out.”

Wednesday couldn’t speak.

“And then came the powers.”

You raised a hand, fingertips glowing faint blue. Cold fog surrounded them.

“Freaked everyone out, obviously. Orphanage didn’t want me. Social workers didn’t want me. But then Nevermore stepped in.”

You smiled. It was small. Quiet.

“That’s where I met you.”

Wednesday looked away.

“In my restless dreams, I sometimes see them,” you murmured. “My family. The things they made me do. The kids I didn’t save. The girl I should’ve saved.”

Your voice trembled.

“And sometimes, I worry… that I’ll become like them too.”

Now the lake was still. Silent. A perfect mirror for the gray sky above. The same crooked log still rested there, half-consumed by moss and time. The wind whispered across the water, cold and sharp, bringing nothing with it.

But there were no birds, no sound.

And yet everything inside her was screaming.

The moment she saw the shape on the log, her breath caught in her throat.

There you were.

Exactly where you had sat all those months ago. Same spot. Same posture.

Knees pulled close. Chin resting. That same haunted stillness she’d seen in you only once before.

You were wearing the same coat you wore the night you disappeared. The same gloves. Hair just barely different—longer? Wet? She couldn’t tell.

But it was you.

You didn’t look at her. Not yet.

You stared at the lake.

She didn’t dare speak.

Didn’t dare move.

Because suddenly, she was afraid. Truly afraid. And it wasn’t the lake. Or the fog. Or the silence.

It was the way you were sitting.

Still. Unmoving. Like you’d been there for a very long time.

And then—

Your voice.

Soft. Playful.

Just like before.

“Took you long enough.”

And Wednesday walked.

Step by step. Each one heavier than the last.

Because it was coming back to her.

Not what she chose to remember. But what she did.

All of it.

She hadn’t wanted to see it, hadn’t wanted to believe it—her mind had kept it locked away, buried beneath fog and frost and grief, but now… now it returned in pieces.

A year ago,

Enid and Eugene. Gone for two days.

She’d hardly slept. Hadn’t eaten. Her nails had broken against the bark of trees from how hard she’d clawed her way through the forest, desperate, ravenous for answers.

She found it on the third day.

Enid’s locket.

Half-buried in the moss, silver chain tangled around a dead root. Her hands trembled as she reached for it—just a flash of metal in the dirt—and the moment her fingers brushed it, the world shifted.

Her knees hit the ground. The vision struck like a storm behind her eyes.

You. Standing over them. Enid’s blonde hair soaked red. Eugene’s glasses shattered beside his lifeless body. And you—gazing down at the ruin with a look that burned itself into Wednesday’s memory. Your expression… distant. Cold. Almost satisfied.

She had screamed.

Not out loud. No. Her screams were the silent kind—the ones that crushed her ribs from the inside. Rage. Pain. Betrayal. It swallowed her whole, and for the first time in her life, Wednesday Addams wanted to tear the world apart.

“No,” she had muttered. “No… no, not her.”

But the vision held tight. Showed her over and over. You had done this.

You. The person who brought light into her black-and-white world. The one she had started to believe she could trust with her softest thoughts, her future. You, standing there with the darkness of your family behind your eyes, a legacy of blood, and betrayal.

Why?

Why did you lie to her? Why did you become them?

Her mind had spiraled. Maybe you were just like them. Maybe you’d lured her in the same way your family had taught you to lure the innocent. You had used her. Gotten close to her. Earned her trust. Just to get close to them.

Her blood had gone ice cold. The rage that followed had been total. Absolute. Blinding.

She didn’t think. She didn’t question.

You’d played her. Everything—the laughter, the smiles, the tenderness. The way you’d held her hand when you thought she wasn’t looking. All of it—lies. She saw it with her own eyes now, her vision can never be wrong. Everything had gone red. No room for doubt. No time for second guesses. You had betrayed her. Played her.

She remembered her hands trembling as she shoved the vision out of her mind. She remembered thinking how she had let herself love you. How stupid. How careless. How human.

Was it because of your family? Had they gotten to you? She didn’t know. Didn’t care.

She wanted answers.

And so, she’d planned it.

She asked you to come with her the next evening. Said she’d found a lead. Said she needed someone she trusted. Her voice was steady. Too steady. You were so happy to hear it. You told her you were glad she hadn’t given up—that you wanted to help search. Of course you did. You’d always wanted to be by her side.

You met her at the forest edge, smiling like you always did. That irritating smile. That beautiful, warm, stupid smile. You even brought two cups of coffee, saying you thought she might’ve forgotten to drink anything again.

“I thought I’d be the one getting lost,” you joked, nudging her as you both walked into the woods together. “But now it’s you wandering off. What’s the world coming to?”

She didn’t laugh. She didn’t even speak.

You noticed, of course. You always noticed. “You okay, Wends? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

And maybe she had.

Because the thing walking beside her… she didn’t think it was you anymore.

She led you to the lake.

The same one she stood in front of now, every nerve ending in her screaming as she stared at your figure—still, silent, waiting.

Back then, you had frowned when she stopped.

“Why are we here?” you asked, glancing around.

“Tell me the truth.”

Your face twisted into confusion.

“Wends?”

“Don’t lie to me.”

You laughed, but it was nervous, faltering. “Okay... You’re gonna have to help me out here, cause I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Enid. Eugene.” Her voice cracked. “I saw what you did.”

Your smile disappeared. “What I… what?”

“I saw you standing over their bodies. Covered in blood. Laughing.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Then you said it. “No. No, I didn’t—Wednesday, I don’t know what you saw, but that wasn’t me. I didn’t do anything. I swear to you, I—”

“You used me,” Wednesday snarled. “You knew I cared about them. About you. And you twisted it. Just like your family did.”

Your eyes filled with tears. “No. No, I would never—Wends, you know me. You know I would never hurt them, I—”

“I trusted you,” she had said. Her throat had tightened with each word. “I let you in. And you—you slaughtered them. Was that the plan all along? To get close to me and hurt the people I care about?”

Your voice cracked. “Wednesday, no—I swear—I would never hurt them—I didn’t—”

Your hands had trembled. You’d reached for her, eyes wide and terrified. “I didn’t do anything. I swear—I swear on everything I am—I don’t know what you saw, but it wasn’t real. Please. You know me.”

But Wednesday couldn’t see your eyes anymore. Not the real ones. Just the ones from the vision. Cold. Deceptive. Dangerous.

And your voice—was it trembling from fear?

Or guilt?

She remembered your hands reaching for hers.

She didn’t let them.

Her hands closed around your throat instead.

You didn’t fight.

Even as the lake water pulled you under.

You stared up at her with wide, terrified eyes—but not at death.

At her.

Like she’d become the monster you were being accused of being.

And you were right.

You were so, so right.

The memory choked her. The way your body had floated for a moment before the cold water dragged you beneath the surface. The way her breath had come heavy, frantic, her skin pale and wet with sweat.

She’d told herself you’d lied. She had to be right.

She had to be.

Enid and Eugene were found the next day. Scared, but alive.

And the vision?

A lie.

Planted in Enid’s locket.

A trap.

Thornhill had admitted it in a scream—giddy at the irony. “I didn’t even have to lay a finger on your little pet. You did it for me.”

Your family had helped her. One last act of revenge. They couldn’t get to you… so they poisoned the person you loved most. With doubt. With grief.

And Wednesday—

She broke.

That was the day her restless dreams stopped being silent. That was the day the lake began to haunt her.

And now?

She was walking toward you again.

You hadn’t moved. Not an inch.

Your eyes were bright. That same smile. That same softness. You didn’t look angry. You didn’t look hurt.

You looked alive.

And that hurt more than anything.

Because she had stolen that from you.

You, who had twirled in the rain. Who brought her coffee. Who carved—W+A Even if the world ends— wherever you could.

You, who held her hand when no one else dared.

You, who trusted her.

You, who loved her.

And she…

The weight in her chest made it hard to breathe. Her legs felt like splinters barely holding themselves together.

“I always liked this place,” you said quietly. “Even when the bugs bit and the moss made the rocks slippery. You used to hate it.”

She turned to you. Her mouth trembled. She bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to taste blood. “You’re not real.”

“Neither are dreams. But they still feel like something, don’t they?”

She flinched.

“I remember everything,” she whispered.

Your hand lingered on her cheek, cold and weightless.

“I know what you thought, Wends,” you said gently. “But I didn’t do it.”

“I know that now.” Her voice cracked. “I know it was a vision. I know Thornhill used it. I know your family was involved. I know. But it doesn’t matter.”

She looked down at her hands. Pale and shaking. She stared like she was hoping they’d be someone else’s. Someone capable of something less monstrous.

“I still did it.”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. You did.”

Silence again. But it wasn’t peaceful. It was suffocating.

“I was angry,” Wednesday said suddenly, her voice raw. “No. Not angry—furious. I was convinced you had betrayed everything. Everyone. I thought you had become them. Your family. I thought you had used me to get to Enid and Eugene. To finish what your bloodline started.”

Your gaze lowered.

“I didn’t.”

“I know.”

You looked at her now, really looked at her. “You didn’t believe me.”

“No,” she breathed. “I didn’t.”

You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “That’s the part that hurt the most, I think. Not the… not the lake. Not the fear. Just you looking at me like I was a monster.”

Wednesday shut her eyes. Her lips trembled.

"You already feared it might be true,” you whispered. “That some part of me… would turn out like them.”

Her silence said enough. Her hands were shaking now. “You trusted me.”

Tears welled up in her eyes before she could stop them, slipping quietly down her pale cheeks. She didn’t bother to wipe them away.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. Sorry I let Thornhill get to me. Sorry I saw that vision and never asked questions. Sorry I buried you in this lake and buried the memory even deeper. Sorry I pretended you were still missing instead of admitting what I did.”

She turned fully to you now. Her voice trembled.

“You never got justice. You didn’t even get to say goodbye. You just... vanished. And everyone pitied me. Comforted me. But I was the monster.”

Another silence. Another wave lapped at the edge of the lake like an answer.

“I don’t want pity either,” Wednesday said, voice hoarse. “I don’t want forgiveness.”

She reached out and touched your hand. Cold. Still. Not real.

“But I want to be with you again.”

You looked so alive.

So painfully alive.

And she had taken that from you.

“I’m tired,” she whispered. “I’ve been tired since that night. There’s a weight in my chest I can’t get out. It pulls me down when I wake up. It follows me to sleep.”

Her gaze returned to the lake. “And this place… it never let me forget. It keeps calling me back.”

Her eyes found yours again, “Why do you look like you did before?” she asked.

“Maybe it’s not really me,” you said. “Maybe it’s just what you need to see. Or maybe I’m what’s left of me. The part that still waits for you.”

Wednesday closed her eyes.

“I don’t want to wake up again,” she whispered, "Not without you. I’ve lived every day in a lie. And when I remembered the truth… I didn’t feel human anymore.”

You didn’t argue.

The wind shifted, carrying the scent of lakewater and earth and the distant sound of birds. You stood and offered your hand to her.

“Come with me.”

Wednesday looked up.

You weren’t smiling. But your face was soft, like you were trying not to cry.

“Where?” she asked.

You looked to the lake.

“Home.”

Her lips trembled. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest.

“You’ll disappear,” she said. “You’ll vanish the moment I step in.”

“Maybe,” you whispered. “Or maybe I’ll be waiting on the other side.”

Wednesday stood slowly, the weight in her bones cracking like frost on stone. She took your hand.

Your fingers were warm now.

Together, you walked to the water’s edge. The lake lapped at your boots like it remembered. Like it welcomed.

“Are you afraid?” you asked.

Wednesday stared ahead. “Not anymore.”

She let go of everything.

She opened her eyes one last time.

And there you were. Smiling. Holding her close.

Safe now. Forever.

In her restless dreams… she could finally be with her lover.

[Author's note: Yeah, this is very much based on a certain game I am not gonna name so it won't spoil the game for you, let me know how was this plot twist lol]

Taglist: @rqizzu @sevyscoven @kingoftheracoons @kingofthings2 @masterofpuppets-10 @alexkolax @ognenniyvolk @mally-ka @protozoario @machyishere @freakshow2501 @101rizzlrr @jinxslapdog @just-zy @gray-cheese @hellenheaven @blue-because-no-yellow @thyhooligans

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