#yn x newt

[la-gotica-fantasma]

visions

characters - newt x gn!reader

setting - the safe haven (i just love the angst of being okay but stuck in a time you weren't. that, and i love writing newt to be okay.)

word count - 645 (SHORT AS HELLLL)

warnings - hallucinations, blood/gore, panic attack, slight cussing

summary - You've been hallucinating lately, from just little things like smells or sounds to the faces of the people you lost on the way to this newfound home of yours. Newt finds you struggling and comforts you (as best he can).

authors notes - been hallucinating a little more recently so i just thought this one up.

It was just supposed to be a break, you just wanted a break from people.

Everyone has seemingly expected you to be back to how were in the Glade, but you've changed.

You sat on your cot, taking in whatever alone time you could get.

But you didn't feel alone. You didn't seem alone. You sat with that dreadful feeling.

The strong smell of something burning filled your nose, but you knew it wasn't real, you knew it was just another one of those hallucinations you've been having.

The sound of buzzing began crowding the room, another hallucination.

They stayed there for a few minutes, you were already overwhelmed from before, these were not helping whatsoever.

But you're strong. Nothing you can't handle, right?

Until the image of Alby appears beside you, only for a split moment, but so realistic it was like you could reach out and touch him.

You turned away from where you saw the glimpse of him, only for your eyes to find what looked like a pool of blood, crawling towards you.

This was all becoming too much.

You snap your head back to where it was before.

Alby. Zart. Stephen. Chuck. Ben. Jeff. Winston. Nick. Teresa.

All appearing in a carousal-like manner.

They disappeared just as quick as they had come, but that didn't shake the feeling they left.

Tears rushed to your eyes just as guilt had reached your mind.

Frantically grabbing at your shins, scooting quickly across your cot to the wall.

Your lungs felt like they were getting too much air and not enough simultaneously, making your breathing erratic. Your hands felt tingly and numb, you felt numb, but you also felt nothing alike to numb, all at once. It felt like the world was too big and your hut far too small.

You thought you heard a knock, but you couldn't trust what you may have heard.

The knock came again, then a heavily accented voice, "[Name]?" Damnit.

You would have gotten up and pretended nothing was wrong, but you felt like you couldn't move.

You were stuck.

"Love, I can tell something's wrong, I can hear you sniffling from here. I'm going to come in and immediately shut the door, okay?" He kept true to his word, opening the door as little as he could to slip through the crack, and immediately shutting the door after himself.

Turning around from the door he rushed over to you like he never had to do something more, wrapping his arms around you and letting your head rest on his chest.

"Hey, hey [Name], c'mon we gotta try and fix that bloody breathin' of ya's." Hugging you a little tighter, but careful not to hurt you or discomfort you.

"C'mon just breathe with me- you're okay, I'm here, nothing bad'll happen. Just follow my breathing, please." He tried his best to sound held together, but seeing you break made it harder for him to stay as calm as he wished to.

Your breathing began to slow, but your mind was still in the same place it was moments prior.

"I saw them- I saw them Newt. I see them everywhere I go." You trembled.

"Saw who, love?" Newt urged.

"Everyone we've lost."

The morbidity was palpable.

"I can't stop hallucinating-" Choked sobs escape as you turn and hide yourself in arms. "Every night, every damn night is a fight" Another sob.

His arms slightly repositioning, to let you know he was still listening.

"I'm exhausted- I'm tired. I just want it to stop." You were pleading at this point.

"I- I can't take it away, but I'm here, whether you want it or not. I'm here and I won't leave, I promise. And we'll work through it, okay?" He was mumbling by now, saying whatever he thought would help soothe whatever was happening.

"Okay."

[inlovewhithafairytale]

The Maze Runner x Y/N

[dreamy29]

Midnight thoughts: Newt Scamander

Newt walked back to his room, his mind and his heart racing. The image of you, with his shirt on, the nifflers all around you, was repeating over and over in his head.

Unable to forget the sight, he slowly got into bed, not bothering to change into pajamas. He laid down on his back, looking at the ceiling, the image of you in his shirt forever stuck in his mind.

Just friends...

Newt whispered to himself, closing his eyes. He tried to think of other things, of the hippogriff on the Hogwarts school grounds that he needed to examine, but no matter what he did the image of you wearing his shirt, nifflers around you, kept running through his mind.

Every time he tried to think of something else, it was like his thoughts always found their way back to you, to the way you looked in his shirt..

Soon enough, the image was enough to consume his mind entirely, and his own thoughts began to betray him.

How it would feel to crawl into bed next to you... To gently brush his fingertips against your skin... Run his fingers through your hair as you slept... Hold you close... Feel your warm breath against his chest...

Newt took another deep breath, his heart racing once more. He was trying desperately to control his own mind, but it was proving harder and harder. The temptation to just get up, go to your room, crawl into bed with you, hold you close, it was only getting stronger and stronger...

He couldn't stand it. He couldn't stop thinking of you, of how it would feel to press his skin against yours, how you would fit into his arms. He began to toss and turn in the bed, a war raging inside of him. Every fiber of his being screaming at him to get up and go to your room, to your bed, to hold you...

But he forced himself to stay in his own bed. He tried to distract himself, thinking about the other creatures, trying to think of anything but you. But it was no use, the thoughts of you wouldn't stop.Holding you against him, feeling your soft skin and warm breath, and hearing your soft murmurs as you slowly wake and whisper...

'Good morning, Newt'...

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

to me, you’re… everything

pair: Newt Scamander x reader

summery: Newt showing his love to y/n(she/her)

masterlist | navigation

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

Newt Scamander was never one for grand gestures. He wasn’t a man who spoke in sonnets or filled the air with flowery words. But Merlin, if he didn’t adore you with every beat of his kind, gentle heart.

You had known since the moment your eyes met that there was something soft and comforting about him. The way his messy curls fell into his eyes, those brilliant blue-green orbs full of wonder and kindness, and how he carried himself with a quiet grace, like he belonged more with the creatures he tended to than with the world of wizards and witches. You could tell, even then, that this man held worlds inside him—worlds full of magic and mystery, of tenderness and patience. And now, as he moved about your shared home, you were endlessly grateful that you were part of that world too.

Newt had always been thoughtful in the most unexpected ways. He'd leave handwritten notes in the oddest of places, tucked inside your coat pocket or hidden between the pages of a book you hadn’t yet opened. They weren’t grand declarations, but simple, precious things: “I saw a bowtruckle today that reminded me of how strong you are.” Or, “You light up a room more than any Lumos spell ever could.”

Today, however, he was more bashful than usual, and you had a suspicion why. There had been murmurs of something special on the horizon—whispers of a surprise, though Newt was not one to be sneaky for very long. You found him in his usual spot, bent over one of his creatures with a furrowed brow, his hands as gentle as ever as he calmed a fidgety niffler who’d gotten itself into a bit of a tangle.

You smiled, leaning against the doorway, your heart swelling at the sight of him. He had such a soft, unspoken beauty about him. It was in the way his eyes lit up when he looked at you, how his hand would automatically reach out to rest on your lower back when you were near, as though he needed to be close to you, always.

As if sensing your presence, Newt looked up, and when he saw you, a shy smile curled at his lips. “Ah, Y/N,” he murmured, pushing his hair back in that endearing, slightly awkward way of his. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I could watch you all day and never get bored,” you teased, stepping forward until you were close enough to feel the warmth of him, close enough to smell the familiar scent of earth and parchment that clung to his clothes.

His cheeks flushed at your words, a delightful shade of pink that made him look even more endearing. “I, uh, I have something for you,” he stammered, shuffling slightly from foot to foot. His hands were suddenly fidgety, and you could tell he was working up the courage to say more. You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? What is it?”

Without a word, he led you to his case—the one you knew so well by now—and opened it with a quick flick of his wand. Inside, the usual flurry of magical creatures were going about their business, but it was clear something was different. Something… softer.

It was then you saw it—a delicate little creature with pastel wings fluttering just above the ground, surrounded by flowers that you couldn’t recall being there before. Its eyes sparkled as it twirled in the air, dancing almost, and Newt turned to you, his face glowing with affection.

“I, um,” he began, “I found her a few months ago on one of my trips, and she’s been rather shy. But when I told her about you, she—well, she seemed to perk up. I thought maybe she wanted to meet you.”

Your heart melted. It wasn’t just the creature itself—although it was undeniably one of the most beautiful things you’d ever seen. It was Newt, the way he spoke about you to even the most timid beings, the way he found a way to show his love for you in such a subtle, meaningful way.

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly. “You’re incredible, Newt,” you whispered, moving closer to him until your hand found his. “How do you always manage to make me feel like the most special person in the world?”

He looked down, that bashful smile gracing his lips again, but this time he squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in that soothing way you’d come to love. “Because you are, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice as gentle as the breeze. “To me, you’re… everything.”

The words were simple, but the sincerity behind them took your breath away. You leaned in and kissed him softly, feeling the warmth of him, the steady beat of his heart against yours. When you pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, eyes half-closed, a contented smile on his lips.

“I love you, Newt,” you whispered, your voice full of the kind of softness reserved only for moments like this.

His eyes fluttered open, and there was a tenderness in his gaze that made your heart swell. “I love you too, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “More than words can ever say.”

And in that moment, with the magical world swirling around you, and Newt’s hand warm and steady in yours, you knew that you had found the kind of love most people could only dream of—the kind of love that was quiet and constant, full of wonder and care. It wasn’t flashy or loud, but it was real, and it was yours.

And that was all you ever needed.

[taylor9736]

Hello!

Please can I request Newt being worried for and taking care of a Reader who is injured or has a fever (whichever you want)

I just care about you

A/N: I wasn’t sure what gender you wanted, so I just did gn. I hope that’s okay!

Warnings: none really just fluff.

As they dragged their feet towards the gardens, attempting to steady their breathing, Newt noticed from across the way. He had been watching Y/N more closely for a while now, though he wasn’t always sure why. Maybe it was their stubbornness or their resilience. But today, there was something off.

"Y/N!" Newt called out, jogging over. He eyed them carefully, noting the slight paleness of their face and the way they seemed to sway with every step. “You look like bloody klunk. Are you alright?”

"I'm fine," Y/N replied, their voice hoarse and raspy. They tried to shake off his concern, giving him a faint smile. “Just a little tired. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Newt frowned. “You sure? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

"I said I'm fine," Y/N snapped, though there wasn’t much bite in their tone. More exhaustion than anything.

Newt crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Fine? You can barely stand straight. You’re not working today.”

Y/N groaned. “Newt, come on. There’s a lot to do, and—”

“And you’ll be no help if you collapse halfway through the day,” Newt interrupted, his tone firm but softening as he gently placed a hand on their shoulder. “You’re sick. You need to rest.”

Y/N looked at him, seeing the genuine concern in his eyes. It made their stubbornness waver, but only for a second. “I can manage,” they whispered, though even to them it sounded weak.

Newt sighed, rolling his eyes but smiling faintly. "You're the most stubborn shank in the whole Glade, you know that?"

Y/N gave a small, tired chuckle, which turned into a cough that shook their whole body. Newt’s hand immediately steadied them, his eyes widening in alarm.

“Alright, that’s it,” Newt said, his voice leaving no room for argument. “You’re coming with me.”

Before Y/N could protest, Newt wrapped an arm around their waist, gently guiding them towards the Homestead. Their face flushed, not from the fever but from the close proximity. They didn’t fight him, though. Not this time.

Once they reached the Homestead, Newt helped Y/N onto one of the beds. He knelt beside them, brushing a strand of their y/h/c hair from their sweaty forehead.

“I’m getting you some water and food. Don’t even think about moving,” Newt ordered, giving them a pointed look before leaving the room.

Y/N sighed, their stubbornness still flickering inside them, but the exhaustion was winning out. They rested their head against the pillow, their y/e/c eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

A few minutes later, Newt returned with a cup of water and a small bowl of broth. He sat on the edge of the bed, holding the cup to Y/N’s lips.

“Drink,” he said softly.

Y/N obeyed, taking small sips. When they finished, Newt set the cup down and dipped a cloth in cool water, gently pressing it to their forehead.

"You didn’t have to do this," Y/N murmured, their voice weak but grateful.

Newt smiled softly, his gaze warm and kind. “Course I did. Can’t have you pushing yourself until you collapse, can I?”

Y/N smiled faintly. “You’re too nice to me.”

Newt blushed at that, his cheeks turning a light pink. “I just care about you, alright?” he muttered, focusing on dabbing the cloth against their skin.

Y/N felt their heart skip a beat. “I care about you too, Newt.”

There was a moment of silence, filled only by the distant sounds of the Glade. Newt glanced at Y/N, his expression softening even more.

“Get some rest,” he whispered, brushing his thumb gently across their cheek. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Y/N’s eyelids grew heavier as the fever and exhaustion finally caught up with them. As they drifted off to sleep, they could still feel Newt’s hand resting gently on theirs, his presence comforting and steady.

[nfr-girly]

𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘸 <3

Hasan piker

Benedict Bridgerton

The Pitt (tv show)

Ted lasso (tv show)

other fics ::

Joel miller

The red means I love you

Bradley Bradshaw

beach football with rooster

Unspoken Words

Eddie Munson

Jealousy -> pt 2 (confession)

Steve Harrington

Confession

[nyxthedeity]

🪻 ₊ ⊹ 𝕎𝕙𝕠 𝕕𝕠 𝕀 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕣? 🪻 ₊ ⊹

Hi, I'm NyxTheDeity and I am a starting Author here in Tumblr! Here's my list of characters that I am mainly writing for and will absolutely take up requests on them!

Here also includes some of my rules in requesting and writing fanfics or original story. Take your time reading this, sweetings! 💜

✩₊˚.⋆☾╶⃝⃤☽⋆⁺₊✧𝐻𝒶𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒫𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇🪄✨

🧣𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

🐦‍🔥 Upbringing

- Headcannons about Harry not growing up in Number 4 Pivet Drive and instead living full of love with her Aunt Olivia, the wife of Sirius Black.

🐦‍🔥 Doubt

- Headcannons about Harry at 10 years old finding something out that might've broken his Aunt's heart. She can't let a seed of doubt bloom from her son's heart.

🐦‍🔥 Wariness

- Headcannons about Hyacinth, Olivia's daughter and Harry's cousin, became wary of dogs after a bad memory.

🐦‍🔥 The first and last visit

- A simple visit to their Aunt Petunia escalated quickly.

🦊𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲

🏈 Dance in the field

- Fred Weasley x fem!reader

- A dance in the field in The Burrow was a day to remember for the couple. But also the ones who witnessed it.

🍂𝐆𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲

🏈Cofession with the curtain closed.

- George Weasley x Hufflepuff!femreader

- George couldn't hep himself but confess even with his girl's eyes closed.

🏆𝐎𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐝

🦅Gaze

-Oliver Wood x Gryffindor!femreader

-She never knew that the Gryffindor keeper could make everyone disappear with just a glance.

🍯𝐂𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝐃𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐲

🥨 A boyfriend, maybe? Part 1 Part 2

- Cedric Diggory x Ravenclaw!femreader

- A certain Ravenclaw girl is getting a well-deserved reward after working so hard for the exam.

🍏𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲

🍋‍🟩When I met you

- Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!femreader

- Draco can finally feel what he has been lacking all this time.

ꡙ‍ ꡌ‍ ꡚ‍ 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕸𝖆𝖟𝖊 𝕽𝖚𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖗 𝕾𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 ꡙ‍ ꡌ‍ ꡚ‍

❤️‍🔥𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚜

⚔ Coming soon!

🪽𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚘

⛓ Coming soon!

📜𝙶𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢

🤝Coming soon!

🩵𝙽𝚎𝚠𝚝

🕊️Coming soon!

⚜️🏹📜༒︎⸸ Kιɳɠԃσɱ σϝ Hҽαʋҽɳ⚜️🏹📜༒︎⸸

✟ 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔅𝔞𝔩𝔡𝔴𝔦𝔫 ℑ𝔙

🕊 Coming soon!

ℝ𝕦𝕝𝕖𝕤/ℙ𝕣𝕖𝕗𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕤 ୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

🫧I do not write for any smut/explicit even if the character is an adult. Though I am open for spice, any explicit or smut will not be in my fictions.

🫧I am open to gender neutral preferences, but I am more on feminine reader.

🫧I am also open to original story ideas!

🫧I am open to many more characters or personalities other than the list above. I am just mainly writing for them.

🫧I can also do some headcannons, though it's quite selective since there's a few characters that I really got into. I am willing to explore though!

🫧You can request or ask me questions about my stories or fictions. I am also open to constructive criticism!

I am very happy to join the Tumblr community as a starting Author and I wish for those who will find this post to help me out by sending me ideas! I will do my best in satisfying your imaginations!

From your dearest Author,

NyxTheDeity.

[makethiscanon]

Cocktail Bar AU: Welcome to 'The Glade'.

~•°•°•°•°•°•~

Gally, Minho & Newt with their different favourite patrons ♡

(Gally's mentions fem!reader. Minho/Newt's are purposefully vague)

~•°•°•°•°•°•~

Bouncer!Gally who is just thrilled that The Glade has started hosting cocktail-making parties because he didn't have a big enough headache already.

Here comes another squealing, giddy group of girls who he just knows is going to be a problem.

... but oh, who are you? Tucked away at the back there? The others are ignoring him but that's an awfully cute smile you're sending his way.

Here, let him hold that door for you.

Oh, you are absolutely welcome, darling.

~•°•°•°•°•°•~

Barman!Minho who prioritizes you, his favourite regular, no matter how busy the bar gets. Slip your pretty self onto that stool and his attention is all yours.

He likes showing off when you're near. Flipping bottles. Trick-shotting garnishes into glasses.

You better believe he's rolling up his sleeves the moment he sees you arrive.

And if he's just invented another shot to try? It's on the house for you, of course. Your opinion, and that cute wrinkle of your nose from the strong tasting liquor is the only payment he needs.

~•°•°•°•°•°•~

Server!Newt who always makes sure you get the perfect table in the house when you stop by for food.

He knows your usual orders so he'll guess what you want and tease you if he gets it right.

Expect perfect service because Newt keeps an eye on you at all times. He knows when your drink is low and when it's time for your next course.

Single dining? No problem. If you're looking glum and lonely then he'll pop by to chat and keep you company.

Or if you're getting hit on by a creep who won't leave you be? Newt is straight out the door and dragging Bouncer!Gally in to deal with it.

And you better believe dessert is on the house that evening, Newt's treat.

~•°•°•°•°•°•~

BONUS:

Bouncer!Gally basically adopting you after you stagger outside for some air, only for you to ask him if he'd like a drink because he must be thirsty.

Soon you're back with a water for him, and he's enjoying hearing your tipsy babblings.

He keeps an especially-alert watch on you whenever you come back outside, noticing you keep getting a little bit drunker.

Oh, he can see the opportunistic guys prowling near you, alright. Just let them try talking to you. See what happens.

And he doesn't mind in the slightest when you cling to his arm to hold yourself up. Had a bit too much to drink, sweet? Sit tight. He'll order you a taxi. No, he's not mad at you. He wants to make sure you get home safe-- of course you're welcome back anytime.

Yes, he hopes he'll see you again soon, too.

------

[WRITING MASTERLIST]

[budgiesunset]

Hi can you write a harriet the maze runner x fem reader please maybe with an idea of (your the only girl in group A and then a wall opens and group A and group B gets connected and then you start a relation ship with harriet) that was just a suggestion you can write about anything love its okay if not and definitely don't feel pressured to make one xx💕💕😘😊💗❤️

AN: GUESS WHOS BACK! After a few months and my birthday I have returned. Hope you like this story Anonymous and I did decide to change a few things about the plot but I hope you still enjoy and sorry for the delay

Shot || Harriet x Fem!Reader

•Warning’s• blood, guns, gunshot wound (not fatal), the flare, slight swearing, probably incorrect medical information, part where reader is in bra but it’s not descriptive, angst if you squint, not edited or proof read •Summary• After escaping the maze and the scorch you find yourself getting shot and falling for Harriet while she patches up your injury

You had just escaped WCKED and again now setting off with Jorge, Brenda, Aris and what was left of the gladers on a mission to find the right arm and to get to the safe haven.

‘We’re so close’ you thought as you got out of the car that had gotten you almost the entire way. The road was blocked by a bunch of abandoned cars several of them had been trashed

‘probably from when this all started and people were looking for supplies or ways to get out’. The thought came to you as you looked through a cracked window of an old truck.

First you heard it. It was loud and clearly a gunshot then suddenly felt a hot pinch in your arm. You felt yourself being pulled to the ground in your daze you turned around seeing Frypan looking at you concerned.

“Keep pressure on your arm” he said as he moved your un-injured arm so the you could replace his hand on your wound.

Everything happened so fast and the next thing you know your being pulled up from the ground by someone you definitely didn’t know.

She was wearing a mask and had a rifle. But she had dark brown eyes. Brown almost black hair that she had styled in twist and she had tanned skin even though you couldn’t see her face you felt like you could trust her.

After a very confusing interaction between Aris a girl named Sonya and the girl who pulled you off the ground who you learnt to be called Harriet. They agreed to take you to the Right arm.

Along the way you found yourself walking next Harriet. “How’s your arm” She questions.

“It’s okay I guess for being shot.. Hurts like hell though” you say as you lift your hand off of the injury to look at it but quickly placing it back and applying more pressure as blood starts to leak out again.

“When we arrive we can get it looked at and bandaged up.” She said looking at you then quickly looking straight again.

“Yeah that sounds good” you say. The rest of the trip was silent.

[Time Skip]

You were sitting in the med tent when Harriet entered.

“Docs busy with your friend but luckily for you I know how to fix up a gun injury.. Do you need help to remove your shirt?” she says as she lets out a breathy laugh. You just nod as she carefully removes your shirt leaving you in your bra. She then sits down on a stool using a cloth to clean around the wound.

“This is going to hurt” she says while holding a pair of tweezers so they were just hovering over the hole using her other hand to stretch out the skin. Then carefully she pulls out the bullet.

“Fuck” you mumble squeezing your eyes closed. Harriet them starts to bandage the wound on your upper arm.

“Wait here I’ll go get you a clean shirt.” She says before exiting the tent. She returns a few minutes later with a cream colored long sleeve shirt. “Here” she says holding it out to you.

“would you mind helping me?” You say looking up at her from this angle you could see just how beautiful she is, how her skin glows as she nods and how her hair falls in her face as she leans over you to help you pull the shirt on.

Her touch is warm and as she stands up you find yourself missing her warmth you both stare into each others eyes until the silence is broken.

“Dinners ready” you look over to the door of the tent to see Aris standing there looking at you both confused.

Harriet helps you stand up and guide you to a small log next to a campfire she tells you to sit before walking off and returning a few minutes later with two bowls of hot soup.

She hands you one and then sit’s down next to you and you both talk for hours. Then suddenly you hear a loud buzzing then you see a beam of light and feel a gush of wind.

Harriet acts fast grabbing her rifle then your hand and pulling you behind her as she yells out orders left and right.

You’re suddenly behind a car and all you can hear is gunshots, explosions and yelling. You cover your ears curling your knees up to your chest hiding your face in them.

Not even a minute later you feel yourself get violently yanked from the ground and then you feel it. A gun placed at your temple.

“Put your weapon down or else she dies!” The soldier yells. You start shaking your head left and right tears welling in your eyes as the barrel of the gun get pushed even closer to your temple forcing you to move your head on a diagonal so that your left ear is almost at your shoulder.

Harriet looks into your eyes before throwing her gun to the floor not even two seconds later she is being grabbed and pulled to a line up you not too far behind.

Your head gets pushed forwards and then the soldier calls out “A45” and then moves onto the next one.

You flinch when you feel something grab your hand but quickly relax when you look over and see Harriet holding onto your hand.

“It’s going to be okay.. I won’t let them hurt you” she whispers so that only you and her could hear.

[Time Skip]

After everything happened and the WCKED soldiers left taking almost half of what was left of the right arm you curled up next Harriet as she rested up against a large rock.

Your head rested on her shoulder and her arms wrapped around your waist in a protective manner as if she was scared that if she let go you would end up in the hands of WCKED just like Sonya and Aris. So that night you fell asleep in the arms of Harriet where you felt safe.

The End

[nwjws]

in my head - yjw

; pairing - jungwon x fem!reader

; synopsis - you’ve hated jungwon ever since you two met on the train to hogwarts back in first year; he’s self-centered, lazy, and always coming out for you. now in your seventh year, you’ve been named head girl (woohoo!). unfortunately, the head boy position was given to the one and only yang jungwon (boohoo…). with no other choice, you’re forced to face the annoyingly attractive boy and work with him for the rest of the year - if you can even last that long.

; tags - fluff, angst, crack, ravenclaw! headboy!jungwon, slytherin! headgirl!reader, rivals to lovers, enemies to lovers, hogwarts au (with a modern twist), bc they have tablets and stuff

; warnings - a little bit of swearing, a lot of hostility between yn and jw, lmk if i missed anything!

; wc - 12.9k words (umm.... have fun!)

teaser

everyone’s eyes are on you as you stand up at the front of the great hall while the headmaster - professor bang si hyuk - introduces you as this year’s head girl. looking at all the students staring back up at you, you almost feel proud of yourself (keyword: almost). 

you’d think someone would be overjoyed at being acknowledged and recognised enough to have been given such a high position, but you aren’t. 

instead, you’re silently fuming, just barely keeping your temper in check as you plaster a fake smile on your face. your eye twitches as you hear a low chuckle from-

“the head boy, yang jungwon!” the headmaster announces. cheers erupt from around the room, all clapping for their new heads. 

“i can feel the waves of anger practically radiating off of you,” he murmured quietly.

yang jungwon. 

the boy you despised so much. 

listen, you don’t really hate anyone, but you’re pretty sure that what you feel towards the boy you called ��yang’ is close enough.

in all your six years at hogwarts, you two have constantly been at each other’s throats. arguments often broke out between you in corridors; fights wherein one would end up stupefied or thrown against the wall; even little sabotages against each other that were subtle enough that teachers could pass off as an accident or your own fault rather than the other’s. 

for example, back in third year, yang had tripped you on your way into the great hall after everyone got off the hogwarts express. you had flashed everyone behind you and scraped your knee when you landed on the ground.

although no one saw him do it, you immediately knew who the culprit was, especially when he smirked down at you over his shoulder as he walked ahead. oh how badly you wanted to slap that smile off his face in the moment.

you retaliated the next week by mixing his white laundry with red clothes, so he was forced to attend his classes with pink uniform until he got new shirts. nothing satisfied you more than the glares he sent your way throughout the first day of his pink week, you could feel him boring holes into the back of your head even when you weren’t looking.

making your way back to the slytherin table, you thought back to when you got that fateful letter a few weeks back.

you slid the window open after spotting an owl from afar flying towards your house.

the bird flew in gracefully, and dropped your letter from hogwarts on the kitchen island counter, accepting the treats offered from your hand.

“y/n, please. close the window, would you? it’s so windy outside - it’s blowing away my papers!” your mother scolded from her seat at the table.

“sorry, my bad! i just got my grades.”

“ah really? let’s see it then.”

you scanned the letter, satisfied to see an O on all your subjects. although they weren’t your final NEWTS grades, they were an indication of how you did throughout sixth year according to teachers’ assessments. 

you’d been nervous at seeing anything below an O, but your friends had told you not to worry all summer.

“you’ve never dropped from the top rank in our year ever since first year, why would you now?”

“hiyyih, it’s only because of how much i’ve studied, but what if the expectations this year are higher? what if it’s not enough? what if i spent too many free periods sitting with you guys by the lake instead of-“

“be for real, you only did that twice! you’re the only person who’s actually spent their free periods studying,” rei said.

“well that’s what they’re supposed to be used for!”

“who actually does that! besides you, of course.”

“rei’s right, even yang jungwon often spends his frees with his friends.”

“that’s why he’s number 2,” you roll your eyes. “maybe if he studied during his frees, he’d finally get that number 1 spot he's been telling me he'd get for years.”

“it’s the fact he doesn’t have to study as hard to easily get second top student in our year. besides, weren’t you just worrying about not being first this time ‘round?”

that set you off into another episode of wailing and worrying about your results.

reading the letter, your eyes zeroed in on a shiny gold badge attached to the bottom.

  dear kim y/n,  we are pleased to inform you that you have been chosen as head girl for this upcoming academic year. you will be working alongside the head boy, yang jungwon, and all prefects across the four houses. you and the head boy’s duties will be relayed to you after the sorting ceremony. congratulations once again, you are well deserving of the title. sincerely, headmaster bang si hyuk

you still remember your mother questioning you after watching your figure suddenly go from jumping around the kitchen all giddy, to sulkily dragging your feet to the table.

of course, you were honoured to be picked, but did they really have to choose your enemy as your partner? i mean, the whole school knows about your rivalry, and you guys have been told off countless times by teachers! so was this really a smart idea?

when the ceremony ended, one of the professors led you and yang to the head dormitories.

(a “benefit” of being one of the heads was getting your own room, separate from your own house dorms. but you’d still be sharing the common room with yang, so that wasn’t exactly the biggest plus in your books.)

“as you can see, you will have separate private rooms, each with their own bathroom,” the professor pointed at the doors on opposite sides of the common room.

“but you two will share this living space. there’s a little library in the corner as well. 

“now for rules..." he started listing a bunch of obvious rules - like what's allowed in the head dorms and what isn't, when you can bring your friends, etc.

“and last but not least, you aren’t allowed in each other’s private quarters,” he paused before glancing at both students. “although, i don’t think that’ll be a problem.” 

he’s right there, you thought bitterly.

the idea of even sharing the common room with the boy irked you, let alone entering his own room. you could only imagine all the stupid tricks he was planning on you right now - but you were doing the same.

after the whole ordeal, the professor finally left you two alone, but not before telling you that you should start planning out the prefects’ patrolling schedules so that you could meet up with them as soon as possible.

you and yang stared at each other for a moment, apprehension hanging in the air. this is the first time you two have directly looked each other in the eye tonight.

“so… i guess we should get to sorting out those schedules,” he breaks the silence, gesturing to the scroll of names in your hands, which the professor had left with you.

nodding, you followed him to the large table in the middle of the room, where you’d hold a meeting with the prefects tomorrow morning.

“here’s the list of all the prefects, plus their student ID numbers.”

“okay, we can use those to add them all into a group chat on hog-messages and inform them of the meeting tomorrow.”

one of the newer developments at hogwarts in recent years was the addition of electronic tablets given to every student, so they’d be able to communicate faster with each other. it had an app programmed within it called ‘hog-messages’ where students could message each other or their teachers, and create group chats, all activity being monitored by staff.

the tablets also allowed the students to be able to write notes down on it, but most teachers often preferred all homework to be written on paper scrolls anyway. 

all this was provided by yang enterprises.

yup. yang was the son of the wizard who introduced muggle electronic devices into the wizarding world, instantly boosting their family into riches and success.

the world was given to him on a silver platter, so he’s always had it easy. and unfortunately for you, the boy not only grew up snobby and privileged, but was smart too. 

coming from the muggle world, you entered the wizarding world with an open mind. despite this, you hated the ravenclaw almost as soon as you met him. 

his ego was high up through the roof way before he’d even been placed in the house, and he emanated a strong intimidating aura. as soon as yang saw you on that hogwarts train, he turned his nose up at you like you were dirt before you’d even spoken a word to each other.

nonetheless, you managed to work out a schedule together smoothly. but the lack of clashing heads for once put you on edge, you felt like something was just wrong.

“alright, i’ve sent a message to the group,” he said, staring at his screen.

“okay…” you trailed off, unsure what to say. “um, let’s be civil this year, yang,” you say instead, putting a hand out.

the boy looked up at you, before glancing down at your hand then laughed in disbelief. as if you had said you were going to run 100 laps around the castle.

“duh, i knew that when i got the letter. that doesn’t need to be said. are you an idiot?”

now it was you who stared at him in disbelief. there’s the yang you know.

lowering your hand, you scoffed and stormed into your room, which was luckily closer so you didn't have to spend another second looking at his pretty face.

you should have known nothing would ever change. you can’t believe you almost thought that yang had changed. of course he’d never grow up, maybe he was just made this way. 

on the other hand, the return of his ugly personality brought you some comfort. it was just something you were more familiar with. you weren’t used to the driven and focused attitude he had on earlier when sorting out the schedule, and you’d prefer to keep it that way. 

unpacking your bags and showering before changing into pajamas, you set an alarm for 6:30am, so you’d have time for the meeting at 7:30 and can end it before classes began at 8. you went to bed feeling prepared for tomorrow.

the next morning however, you woke up late. 

the sunlight seeped in through the curtains, and after a moment, you checked your phone for the time.

8:34am

crap.

you practically jumped out of bed and began to frantically get ready, pulling on the first shirt and skirt you could grab from your closet.

why hadn’t your alarm woken you up? you set the alarm two hours earlier. had you accidentally typed 630 into the calculator app instead from a tiring day?

however, when you check your alarm clock, you saw that it had been turned off. although, you clearly remember pressing save and checking that it was on before tucking yourself into bed.

you pause as you brush your hair, your thoughts coming to a stop.

it was yang, you realised. 

is this his idea of civil? you wonder what he's on as you slip on your uniform in panic. 

quickly brushing your teeth, you put on your tie as you ran out the room, a chill hits you when you remembered the prefects’ meeting you were supposed to have this morning.

oh my god, they probably think i'm an irresponsible head girl. there’s no doubt the bad impression being late on your first day as head girl would leave on not only the students, but the teachers as well. 

will they revoke your position? will they give the badge to another, more responsible girl? who preferably doesn’t have beef with the head boy? 

you cringed at the thought you might be punished because of something entirely yang’s fault, and he’d get away with it. as he always does. 

you ran down the moving stairs, almost slipping off the edge when it suddenly changed paths, towards your first class as you cursed out the head boy in your mind. 

but soon enough, nervousness took over as you neared the classroom.

there was only about 15 minutes left of the period, so was it even worth it to go? and besides, yang was in this class too. you’d hate to see the gloating smirk on his face when you enter and get scolded by the professor.

before you could decide however, the door opened, revealing the very boy you’d been planning revenge on all morning.

yang didn’t look surprised to see you there, evident by the grin on his face.

he faked a shocked tone though, when he announced your presence to the professor (and the whole class).

it goes without saying that you definitely had a bad morning, being held back in class for another half hour to make up for what you missed that morning. 

thankfully, you had a free period next, so you weren’t missing your next class this time.

although you hated yang jungwon with every fibre of your being, you weren’t a snitch. you wouldn’t dare expose him - mostly because it would be useless. who would really believe you, when you were already messing up so early in the year? and certainly not when it accused the school’s beloved heartthrob. 

so you took your punishment on without a complaint, pointedly ignoring yang the rest of the day, who didn’t even try to hide his smile.

you sighed as you made notes on griffin claw substitutes, all alone in the potions classroom.

september and october rolled by; even though you and yang continued your little pranks and tricks on each other, you guys managed your head duties just fine. he did his work and never slacked, so you were satisfied.

you had gotten your revenge on yang by charming his wand to vibrate uncontrollably two days later. you remember barely being able to hold in your laugh as you watched him struggle to conjure a flock of birds, an explosion of feathers popping from the tip instead.

from what you heard, he also struggled in his other classes you didn’t share, which delighted you to no end. 

“what are you skipping around all giddy about?” hiyyih asked you sceptically.

“just that yang seems to be struggling in herbology class, according to jang wonyoung.”

“what did you do?” rei eyed suspiciously.

“how could you accuse me of doing something?” you gasped.

“it’s pretty obvious - head boy and student #2 wouldn’t just struggle in a class he’s always done well in,” minji shrugged.

you rolled your eyes at your friends, but then smiled cheekily when you admitted how you’d snuck into his room that morning and cast a charm on his wand with a spell that would only stop after twenty-four hours.

“okay, that’s pretty funny. i’m gonna have to ask wony about it later,” rei laughed. 

your phone buzzed, and upon checking it, you were surprised to see a text from the one and only yang jungwon.

Hog-Messages YANG JUNGWON (ID: 78395) professor kim wants to see us

“speak of the devil,” you tell your friends and show them your screen. 

you watched as the three glanced at each other, equally surprised.

“wow, a text! from yang jungwon! and it’s not some evil curse or cryptic message!” hiyyih remarked, which you nodded to in agreement. 

rei laughed. “you guys act like he’s incapable of simple communication; he’s just relaying a message.”

“sometimes rei, i think he is,” you joked.

YANG JUNGWON ID: 78395 professor kim wants to see us

KIM Y/N ID: 78384 when?

YANG JUNGWON ID: 78395 after classes today at his office

KIM Y/N ID: 78384 ofc it’s at his office, you think he’d want to meet us in the restrooms?

YANG JUNGWON ID: 78395 i hope u fall off your broom on the pitch also come un-charm my wand or something right now.

KIM Y/N ID: 78384 can’t ����‍♀️  sux 2 b u

"honestly, if i didn't know better, i'd think you two had a hate-love relationship," minji teased.

"ew, anything above dislike is something i will never feel for yang jungwon," you scrunched your nose in distaste. how could minji even think something like that?

"whatever," she snickered.

arriving in front of the professor’s office door, you opened it to find jungwon already inside and seated on one of the chairs opposite the teacher’s desk. you bowed in greeting before taking the other empty seat.

“so,” professor kim started. “we need to talk about your behaviour as the head students.”

you gulped. had you done something wrong? were those threats to revoke your position on the first day real? 

looking over at your co-partner, his face was unreadable, as always. he looked perfectly calm, which infuriated you.

“as head boy and girl, you two are setting the standard for the rest of the school. you guys are supposed to be role models. but i’m sure you already know this.” professor kim paused and looked at both of you intently before continuing.

“so why is it i’m finding out that you two have not been doing your patrols together?”

oh. so that’s what this is about.

you and yang had completed one patrol session together on the first week of school, and it’s safe to say that it was… horrific. without going into too much detail, you guys had practically argued the whole two hours that night; although it was unlikely, if there were any couples making out or young students causing trouble, they probably heard you two from a mile away and hid before they were caught.

at the end of the night, you both agreed that you’d just swap your schedules and patrol with other prefects - possibly the only thing you two had ever agreed on.

“we weren’t aware that we had to patrol together,” you replied when the head boy was clearly not going to speak up first. what a pussy.

it was a lie; you guys obviously knew that head students were supposed to patrol together. having been prefects in previous years, you knew how things worked. it was why you had done the first patrol together after all. 

but you figured that since it wasn’t a specifically given instruction, you didn’t actually have to do it together.

professor kim stared at you two incredulously for a moment, his expression somewhere between exasperation and disbelief. a pool of anxiousness swirled in your stomach at the way he sighed and pinched his nose bridge frustratedly.

“listen, i don’t know what si-hyuk was thinking when he had chosen you two as the heads, given your history and all. but he chose you. so please show that you’re worthy of the title - let go of your childish rivalry. otherwise, we may actually have to find new head students.”

“you could just let go of her, professor. i’d be able to work with any other girl,” yang finally spoke up. of course the first thing he'd say is an insult.

you gasped and glared at him. 

“clearly, you’re the one who’s childish and immature here. maybe you should be the one to get replaced.”

“enough!” the teacher slammed his hands on the desk. “if you two keep this act up, we will not hesitate to replace you both.”

and so with that, you and yang left the office in uncomfortable silence. not a word was spoken between you until just before you parted ways.

“guess we’ll use the old schedule again,” he said. you nodded.

being the end of the day, you were both too tired to argue. the heavy workload that comes with NEWTS in addition to the responsibilities of your positions, you both left for your own common rooms without sparing another glance.

the dreaded patrol round came sooner than you would have liked, and you found yang waiting by the castle doors. you always seemed to be the later one, as if he’d placed a curse on you with that trick at the start of the year.

he kicked himself off the wall he’d been leaning against when he saw you, and began to walk without so much as a ‘hi’ or ‘let’s go’. you had to quickly jog to catch up to him.

the air between you two as you walked around was silent and tense, so thick that you could probably cut it with a knife.

surprisingly, yang was the first to break the silence.

“i was thinking - we should plan the first hogsmeade trip for this term.”

“mhm,” you hummed in agreement. “i think it’s best to have it after the quidditch match in november.”

“yeah, at the end of the month. and people would be able to go before the winter break.”

you fished your phone out from your pocket and opened the calendar app.

“when should we have it?"

yang leaned over your shoulder to look at your screen. “let’s have it on the twenty-seventh," he says, pointing at the date on the calendar. "it’d be good to have the week between the match and the trip free so we can prepare.”

you nodded as you listened, typing up a reminder to speak with the professors about it. 

“hey!” the head boy suddenly shouted, causing you to jump. “what are you kids doing here?”

you looked up to find he had opened a classroom, in which three students in around 4th or 5th year were standing. they stared up at the pair of you with wide eyes, like a dear in headlights.

“what are you doing?” you asked, regaining your composure. looking at their ties, you realised they were in slytherin, like you.

the students glanced at each other worriedly and slowly backed away from the two of you. you noticed them hiding something behind them on the desk.

pointing your wand at the items behind them, you summoned it nonverbally, yelling ‘accio!’ in your mind. the items flew into your arms.

“you all better go back to your common room. it’s way past your curfew,” yang warned them. “20 points from slytherin.”

the group shuffled out of the room and quickly ran back to the dungeons.

“isn’t 20 too many?” you grumbled. maybe you were a little biased since they were in your house though.

ignoring you, yang sighed as he turned back to look at the contents in your hands.

“what is it?” he asked.

upon closer inspection, it seemed to be the plannings or blueprint of a large snake puppet that moved on its own, the quote ‘slytherin slays’ painted along its body.

you held back a giggle as you read the notes on how to make the snake glare and breathe flames out when faced with a ravenclaw. yang snorted as he read them as well.

“you slytherins are always so immature when it comes to quidditch matches.” you rolled your eyes and glared at him, imagining you were breathing flames like the puppet snake.

“at least we have a strong sense of support for our house. what’re you birdies doing? painting little flying banners that the players won’t be able to read on the pitch?”

“my team doesn’t need to read our house’s support. we’re good enough and know if.”

“sounds like there’s just no house spirit.”

“say that to me when your team loses,” he challenged.

“you’ll be waiting forever then,” you retorted.

“let’s place a bet. 20 galleons that ravenclaw wins.”

“fine! if we wins, i want you to pay my monthly subscription in an online game for a year."

“what?”

“i need money," you huff, crossing your arms indignantly.

“you need muggle money.”

“well, yes. but i mean, you can convert your wizarding money into muggle money, then pay for my monthly subscription in a game so i get game money.”

“that sounds useless; for a kids’ game? and you called me the childish one?” he raised a questioning eyebrow.

“i wouldn’t need to find peace in an online game if you didn’t bother me all the time, you know," you complain. "you’re like a piece of gum i can’t get off my shoe.”

“you could just cast a spell to get the gum off,” he shrugged.

“you’re right, i’ll just cast a spell on you!” you smile brightly. “stupe-“

“oh my god, okay! i’ll pay for your stupid game - if slytherin wins, which you won’t.”

you smiled to yourself, a skip in your step for the rest of the patrol.

soon, the day of the match arrived; ravenclaw against slytherin (because of course it was). 

the morning of the match was lively as usual, everyone split between green and blue. 

you watched the large snake float above everyone’s heads in the great hall, breathing (harmless) flames into every ravenclaw’s face. 

just at that moment, you bumped into the trio of students who’d been planning the little surprise. you sent them a discreet smile.

“20 points to slytherin,” you awarded for the clever trick, but also to make up for the twenty that yang had taken.

suddenly, you screech when a flock of small origami birds flew and pecked at your hair, ruining the braid you’d put your hair in for the match. 

looking up, you noticed the small paper birds flying about the hall, pecking at every slytherin-supporter. this was definitely ravenclaw’s idea; no doubt yang had gotten inspiration from the those students you two had caught.

“you good, kim?” a familiar voice greets you. you turn to see the devil himself smirking at you, pleased with the mess you are.

“i was, until you got here.”

“maybe it’s a sign that you’ll lose today.”

“maybe it’s a sign you should shut up.”

the match started without a hitch. 

you scored the first 10 points of the match within 6 minutes, and by the first half hour, slytherin was ahead by 30 points. 

you enjoyed the thrill of being a chaser, trying different ways to get the quarrel past the keeper. in fact, you enjoyed flying in general, and being on the pitch.

that is until, you started getting pestered by the other team’s seeker.

you noticed yang seemed to be flying around you after a few laps, and sent him a questioning look.

“what are you doing, yang?”

“looking for the snitch, it’s my job.”

“well, i’m not the snitch. so keep looking!”

“well i’m certainly looking at a similar word.”

it took time to process what he meant, but when you realised, you glared at the boy.

“focus on the game- if you keep your eyes on me, you’ll be paying for my subscription soon!”

yang scoffed and looked away, searching the pitch for the snitch, sending you a glare before zooming away.

the game ended in slytherin’s favour, your team’s seeker barely clutching the golden ball in his hands before the head boy could reach it.

cheers roared across the stadium when it ended with your team’s success, students running onto the pitch in excitement to congratulate you and the other players.

“seriously, the way you threw the quaffle into the hoop while gliding through the air - it was so smooth!” minji gushed as rei nodded in agreement. 

“let’s go, there’s going to be a congratulatory party in the common room!” rei says, taking your hand to drag you.

“can i come?” asked hiyyih excitedly, who was a gryffindor.

“duh!”

you laughed as you followed your three best friends, when you caught sight of a certain person in the corner of your eye.

“wait, i have to do something real quick,” you pause to tell the girls. they stopped as well and looked at you curiously.

“what is it?”

“wait for me. i just need to talk to yang - head stuff,” you tell them off-handedly, before running off to the ravenclaw team.

“it’s definitely not about ‘head stuff’,” hiyyih nudges rei, who nods as they watch you leave.

you make your way to the losing ravenclaw team, even congratulating some of them on a good game. 

when you reach your target, you tap on his shoulder to get his attention, before smiling triumphantly up at him (wow, you never realised how much taller he was than you until now).

“what is it, kim?” he drawled with an eye-roll.

“the bet. i won.” you gloated, the smile never leaving your face, widening instead when he wore a look of disbelief.

“oh, right.” he sighed before scratching the back of his head, looking around thoughtfully. “let’s sort it out tomorrow, at patrol.”

“okay! don’t back down from your end of the bet.” 

“i may hate you, but i’m not a sore loser. see you tomorrow night, kim.”

“with my monthly subscription payment!” you say, waving tauntingly as you ran back to your friends.

“what did you need to talk to him about?” minji asked, putting her hand out to hold yours as you four made your way to the slytherin dungeons.

“we’re making monthly plans to help a student who needs it,” you say smugly.

“sounds like you’re twisting the truth,” rei laughed.

“but it is the truth!” you protested.

you found yourself happily scrolling through the game's catalog, looking to spend your newly-bought robux.

ever since your deal on the match, you found yourself slowly warming up to yang.

well, not to the point you’d consider each other friends, but you acknowledge each other in passing with a nod or quick wave instead of pointedly looking the other way like usual.

you also argued less, much to the relief of the entire school. however, they were still apprehensive, waiting for something to blow up eventually. it was simply too suspiciously calm and quiet without your voices yelling down the hall or in the corner of a classroom.

as the weeks went on, you two learned to get along better and better everyday, even willingly becoming partners in potions once.

sometimes, you would walk to the great hall together for lunch or dinner after a meeting. you even spent your free periods with yang, which you told your friends was because ‘they didn’t have any frees with you’ so you ‘might as well spend it productively’ with the head boy who coincidentally shared the same free periods schedule.

you did lots of stuff together, as expected of the head girl and head boy.

yet, you always avoided studying together.

others might think it’s because of your rivalry; how one might copy off the other’s or something.

sure, you laugh to yourself. let people think what they want.

but the idea of studying with yang again brings back memories of fifth year.

you didn’t tell anyone about it, not even your own friends. 

at the end of the year, you’d been practically glued to the library for two months, studying for your OWLs.

“mind if i sit here?” 

you turn up to see a familiar face.

“yang?”

“there’s no other free space in the library,” he rolled his eyes, making up an excuse.

looking around, you realised he was right. the only other free spots were next to students that were notoriously weirdos who everyone avoided. maybe he doesn’t want them to copy off his work, you think to yourself.

“um, okay,” you agreed hesitantly while sucking on a sugar quill, moving some of your books to make space for him. those sweets often helped you focus.

yang pulled the seat out and sat down, before beginning to study himself.

you tried to continue as you were, but had lost focus. not even the green apple-flavoured sweet in your mouth could help you concentrate.

you were hyper aware of his presence - the way he hunched over the table with his hair falling over his face. you watched him from the corner of your eye.

why had he chosen to sit with you? were there seriously no better places to go? what about his room? the astronomy tower? the little corner window by the potions classroom downstairs?

“relax. i can feel how tense you are from here.”

“does your oh-so-precious pure-wizard blood give you the ability to sense emotions like a dog?” you scoffed. he looked up sharply and gave you a serious look.

“i just want to revise for my OWLs; let’s keep our disputes outside the library, where we won’t get hexed by madame park over there.”

you rolled your eyes and kept your head down, going back to your own business.

over the course of the month, a routine slowly began wherein you would often study together in the library. 

sometimes it was you joining him instead, and you would just wordlessly take the seat opposite him. even when there were other spaces to sit, you two always chose to sit together in the corner table, hidden from the rest of the school.

a word was never spoken between the two top students. and you never told your friends about the little arrangement either.

his presence quickly became something of a comfort for you - it was easier to focus on your studies when he was there. and if you ever needed help with something, he’d give you a few pointers when you finally begrudgingly asked.

he never asked you for help though, which always reminded you why he was number 2. it infuriated you how you had to work twice as hard than him just to barely surpass the boy.

whenever you heard people talking of him in passing, he was always nicknamed ‘the prodigy boy’. what were you called? ‘the girl that was good for a muggle-born’.

he was your rival, but you weren’t his. and he’s made that clear since the day you met.

and yet, despite all the resentment you held for him, you enjoyed his company. OWLs were stressing the life out of everyone, but it felt like you could get through it with him sitting across you.

maybe it’s because he motivated you to keep working harder, to try more so you could widen the gap between your ranks. seeing him everyday reminded you of why you tried so hard. maybe you wanted to show him (and everyone else) that being muggle-born doesn’t mean you’re any less than those born in this world. 

at least that’s what you told yourself. 

but it doesn’t explain why you began to glance at his lips every time he sat across you. 

it doesn’t explain why butterflies began to flutter in your stomach when you felt the warmth of his body close to yours as he’d lean over your shoulder and point at the book when you asked for help. or why you felt giddy when you’d play with each other’s feet under the table.

until one day, he’d dropped his smart-quill on the floor, and you were quicker to kneel down from your seat to get it. 

“here,” you said, handing him the quill, still on your knees on the floor.

as you faced him, you realised the close proximity only then. 

you stared into his eyes that pulled you in, keeping you locked and unable to escape from his gaze. he stared right back, the quill forgotten in your hand, which now lay on his left knee.

you didn’t even realise the way he slowly leaned down until he cupped your cheek.

his touch was soft; you leaned into it. 

“is this okay?” you could barely hear him whisper over the rapid beating of your heart. all you could do was nod.

your eyes fluttered shut as your lips finally connected. a mix of pretty emotions burst in your stomach, filling you with a giddiness you never knew before.

it might have been just a few seconds, or it could have been hours - you didn’t know. that first kiss was everything you ever imagined it to be.

you pulled away first, finally running out of air. but he chased after your lips, kissing you again. 

the memory of your first kiss will forever be cemented in your memory. you were just two 16 year olds, softly holding onto each other in the corner of a library, hidden from the rest of the world.

you scrunch your nose at the bittersweet memory. who would’ve thought your first kiss would be with the person you hate the most in this world. 

when you returned to school for sixth year that september, yang acted like nothing happened between you two. 

he ignored you for the first month of school, not even bothering to taunt you like he used to. everyone had been stumped, including you, but he eventually went back to his usual tactics, albeit with a noticeable lack of ‘stupid muggleborn who can never be on our level’ comments. soon you two were back to your regular bickering as if he didn’t ignore your existence for the first month of school. 

as if you hadn’t shared a kiss just three months before.

now, your developing friendship scared you. you didn’t want a repeat of last time; his actions had really hurt you back then.  

you remember all the nights you spent in the library, waiting. waiting for him to come, to explain why he was acting like that. waiting for something.

thoughts ran through your mind, trying to reason why he might do this. maybe he realised he didn't feel for you the way you felt for him. maybe he went back to his room that night and wiped all the muggle germs off his face. maybe he realised he was too good for you.

you remember all the times you cried yourself to sleep, eyes puffy for weeks that even your teachers asked if you were okay. if maybe you’d eaten something bad or been cursed. that maybe you should go to the infirmary to fix it.

hiyyih, rei, and minji had no idea how to help you, because you refused to tell them what was wrong. 

and you never did. it’s simply too embarrassing. explaining that you kissed your number one enemy and then he ignored you for month and acted like nothing happened between you two was humiliating. you knew your friends wouldn’t, but surely if other students found out, they’d laugh at you.

yang probably laughed with his friends about it. you were just waiting, dreading to hear the rumours of how you’re a bad kisser and how no one should ever want your muggle-born, good-for-nothing ass. 

every time you walked past him and his friends, you’d walk faster and look everywhere but their direction. you imagined their snickers and smirks as they watched you run by like a pathetic loser.

the rumours never came however. 

no one ever looked at you weirdly, or laughed at you. you ended sixth year with a big sigh of relief, releasing a breath you didn't realise you'd been holding the whole year.

now, you found yourself standing next to the very boy who you had spent the end of your 5th year with, walking a big group of students towards hogsmeade.

you sigh as you think about your astronomy test on monday, which you’d rather spend the weekend studying for.

unfortunately, as the heads, it’s you and yang’s duty to chaperone the students on their trip to the village. 

you sigh and pull on your strap, hiking your heavy bag higher up your back. you think of the long day ahead, studying in the corner of one of the quieter cafés, freezing your toes off. it’s not preferable, but it’ll have to do.

yang watches you, eyeing your heavy bag of books.

“what the hell? don’t tell me you’re spending this trip studying.”

“alright, i won’t,” you roll your eyes at him as you two trudge behind the large crowd of students. it was 9 in the morning, and you were too tired to reply.

“wouldn’t you rather spend your time with your friends? you somehow have those,” he teased.

“well yeah,” you huff, a little irritated at his care-free attitude. “but not everyone can pass an astronomy test without needing to study like you. some of us actually have to work our butts off for good grades.”

yang stopped in his tracks, causing you to follow and look back at him questioningly.

to your surprise, he wore a serious expression, glaring forward and refusing to look at you. you must’ve struck a nerve.

“stop acting like you’re the only one in the world that has to fucking work hard,” he fumed. you’ve never seen him this mad, even in all your arguments throughout the years. 

“you’re always going on about how much you have to study this, how you need to work harder than me that - blah blah blah. 

“why do you always feel the need to undermine my work? always downplaying my accomplishments to ‘mere talent’. what about the tens of hundreds of hours i’ve poured into my own studies? the hours i’ve spent sat by a tutor since i was 6?”

surprised by his outburst in combination with your own irritation and jealousy, you couldn’t help but retort.

“are you serious right now? do you have to make everything about yourself?”

“oh because the world revolves around you? you are so fucking entitled!”

“me? entitled?” you laugh in disbelief. “you’re talking about how i undermine and downplay your work, when you’ve always been the one to yell out to the whole world how i’m a ‘stupid, pathetic muggleborn who’s lacking and can never fit in this world’!” students were beginning to notice your argument and were looking behind as they walked at you two now.

“so that’s what this is about? some shit i said two years ago?” he scoffed.

“some shit you threw at me for 5 years!” you throw your hands up in frustration.

“well maybe you’re proving me right with all your talk about just how much you need to study because you’ll 'never have it as easy as us'!” he yelled right back, mocking you. “you don’t know a thing about me.” 

you stared at him, panting heavily. everyone’s attention was now on you two, people watching instead of walking.

“kim y/n! yang jungwon!” you hear the booming voice of professor kim shout over the crowd. 

he stormed to you two, face red and veins popping out his neck.

“this behaviour is incredibly inappropriate of role model students! you two are supposed to be guiding the students towards the village, is that such a difficult task?” he scolded you and yang in exasperation.

“could you at least keep your feud behind closed doors? it’s incredibly selfish to ruin everyone’s day with your constant fights!”

you looked down ashamedly as your friends took this as their sign to finally drag you from your spot. jungwon’s friend, nishimura riki from 5th year copied their actions.

professor kim looked at the crowd which had now completely stopped to watch the show. 

“keep moving kids!” he sighed, shaking his head in disappointment.  

“park gunwook,” he called. the gryffindor jogged towards the teacher. “pham hanni.” the hufflepuff followed. “you two will take over the role of chaperoning the students, since our head students are clearly unsuitable for the job,” he instructed, throwing you a dirty look. 

the two 6th year prefects nodded and began to walk behind everyone, feeling a little awkward at being put on the spot. 

you glared at yang one more time, but was met with a different expression instead.

yang met your stare with concern written on his face, as his tall friend dragged him away. it confused you; just a moment ago, he’d been furious with you, and now he looked worried? what was he worried about? what’s with the switch up?

you couldn’t ponder on it any longer, what with your own friends shuffling you away from the crime scene.

the rest of the day was spent tucked away in a little corner of a small café you found, one people didn’t go to as much.

the girls had tried to convince you to join them on their fun, but let you go when you told them you had star charts to memorise for your upcoming test. they seemed hesitant, but after witnessing your recent fight with the head boy, they reluctantly allowed you to go off on your own with promises of saving you a butterbeer.

you busied yourself with your books, not wanting to think about the weird events this morning. from your first disagreement in a while, to yang’s mood swing - it was better to spend your thoughts on what was more important.

eventually, you woke up in the late afternoon, only realising then that you had fallen asleep. the rays of light from the sunset seeped through the window, waking you up with its blinding brightness. 

how long had you fallen asleep? you could have been revising in the time you dozed off. astronomy was your weakest subject, so you really needed that precious time.

you groan in frustration, sighing as you sit up to straighten your back. but something falls off your shoulders as you do. 

you look behind you and realise it was a jacket, which had been left on your shoulders by someone. but who?

bewildered, you pick up the jacket (which had an oddly familiar scent to it) and turn back to your table of books. but before you can return to your studies, something catches your eye.

there, on top of a pile of textbooks, lay a green sugarquill. 

had my friends stopped by while i slept?

it didn’t particularly make sense though, since you agreed to meet up with them later tonight when you headed back to the castle. 

you picked it up, then noticed the note it had been sitting on.

sorry, i shouldn’t have said any of that earlier.  found you sleeping, don’t beat yourself up. you can do this. i remember sugarquills help you focus, right? don’t worry, it’s not poisoned or anything… goodluck on monday.

your heart squeezed painfully. his short message spoke volumes.

yang jungwon wasn’t one to apologise, seeing as he either never felt bad, or never really did anything wrong (in the eyes of everyone else).

you felt guilty too, seeing as it was your fault as well. you made a mental note to apologise to him in person later.

secondly, this was the first time he ever acknowledged the time you spent together in 5th year. it surprised you, because at this point you wondered if he had forgotten about it, or if it was all some sick dream you had.

heat rushed to your face and you had to put considerable effort into keeping your composure and not kick your feet and screaming right then and there. somehow, he’d remembered such a small detail about the sweet he left for you.

maybe the whole 5th year incident affected him more than he let on. maybe there really was something that happened between you guys.

or maybe you’re just being hopeful again. 

one thing you’re sure about though, is that yang jungwon is most certainly crazy.

“welcome back everyone!” you greeted.

it’s the first prefect meeting of the term, everyone who left for the winter break having just returned two days prior.

“we have quite a bit to discuss today,” you started, before looking at jungwon to continue.

“let’s start with the more interesting news first.” he paused, looking at everyone before going on.

“me and the head girl have been planning something this winter, and with the approval of the headmaster, we can finally reveal it to you: the spring ball.”

you watched proudly as the prefects began whispering amongst themselves excitedly. you were so hyped up to be able to plan and make the event come to life.

“we wanted to give the students something more exciting to look forward to. you know- before OWLs and NEWTs completely take over our lives,” you joke, pulling chuckles out of everyone in the room.

“the idea is a formal, floral-themed event that’ll take place in the great hall. it’s only for 5th years and up, but younger years may attend if invited as a date.”

“since you guys are prefects, we’re asking for your help setting up the event. let’s talk ideas for decoration,” you say, pulling out your tablet to take notes.

as you wrote down the prefects’ thoughts and input, you were already drafting a schedule in your mind for preparations. that was until, you felt someone lean over your shoulder.

forcing yourself to keep writing, you tried to ignore the way your shoulder brushed against yang’s chest. one hand holding onto the backrest of your chair whilst the other lay on the table, next to your arm as you wrote on autopilot, your mind circuiting at the proximity. straightening your back in an attempt to compose yourself, you only push yourself against the boy more.

you were sure your face was as red as a tomato. your heart was beating so hard you were scared jungwon could hear it.

judging by the way he huffed in amusement, he probably realised the effect he had on you. 

“focus, kim,” he whispered so only you could hear, leaning lower to your level. you could imagine the smirk on his face.

“i am,” you tried to say with as much nonchalance as you could.

honestly, the moment was really reminding you of all those times he’d helped in the library. deja vu was really hitting you hard right now.

the rest of the meeting went smoothly - at least, as smooth as it could be with yang constantly flustering you as he subtly kept grazing your skin. 

now that you think about it, jungwon’s been acting strange lately. more… bold? that’s the best way you could explain it.

you don’t know how it happened, but ever since the hogsmeade trip, you two got closer. after you apologised to him, the incident in question was never spoken of again, never referred to. but it’s clear something shifted in your relationship with the head boy.

gradually, he began to fill up your everyday life, seeing him more often in the day than you used to.

in the mornings, you’d bump into each other in the common room after getting ready, and go down to the great hall for breakfast together. or, if one of you seemed to be running late after breakfast, you’d make sure to save some food and leave it in the common room for the other.

in the day, you two shared free periods, and so spent it lounging in the common room, simply doing work at the coffee table or reading a book on the couch. music would play in the background as you two sat in comfortable silence, basking in each other’s company.

in the evenings, you might come back from a late class to find him napping on the couch. so you’d shake him awake with a “jungwon, let’s go get dinner.”

you could be studying in the library corner of your shared living space, and he’d always remind you to eat. even when it was past any meal time, he’d drag you off the chair for a trip to the kitchens, where he’d get a house elf to make you two a snack. he often asked for eclairs, noticing it was your favourite.

but yang jungwon didn’t just take up your daily activities, he was always on your mind too.

thoughts of how he wouldn’t like the cold dim lights of the slytherin common room, or seeing students that he’s told you he isn’t particularly fond of floated in your mind when you visited your friends.

you even found yourself comparing him to characters in whatever series you absorbed yourself in. you seriously couldn’t stop thinking about him.

the fights stopped completely, but you two continued your flirting friendly banter all the time.

once, you managed to find time in your busy schedule to sit down and watch barbie movies. jungwon (when did you even start calling him that?) had walked in to the common room to find his bag which he had left there, only to see you huddled up in a blanket while watching barbie as the island princess magically projected onto the wall.

“what’s this?” he’d asked.

“muggle movies from my childhood. this girl here grew up on the island when one day, she was found by a prince who was intrigued by her, and brought her back to the city, where she finally learns who she really is,” you explained while keeping your eyes trained on the projection.

“and who is she really?”

“why don’t you sit down and watch, kitty?” you’d always called him by that nickname during your petty fights, since his face reminded you of a cute cat. now though, it became more of an endearing nickname for the boy.

“i have to write 10 inches on the use of the lumos solem spell by tuesday.”

“that’s 5 days away! come on, don’t you wanna know? it’s really good, i promise. we can watch from the start, and i’ll help you with that charms essay, since professor song assigned it to us to, and i already got started on it,” you asked, twisting to face him with the best pleading look you could muster.

“fine, but only because you begged," he relented with a playful smile.

so that’s how you ended up binging barbie movies into the wee hours of the morning, sharing a blanket with your proclaimed enemy on the sofa.

“you honestly look more like serafina,” you tease him.

“what? but she’s a girl! wouldn’t wolfie be a better fit?”

“but serafina has more cat-like eyes! you guys have similar eyes.”

“are you serious right now? they’re both cats!” he gestures to the movie, paused at the last scene.

“but you really look like her!” you insist, using both hands to point at each corner of his eyes, shifting closer to him. “they’re upturned.”

“didn’t realise you knew that about me, babe.” he wrapped his own hands around your wrists, as they hovered above his face. “if i’m serafina, you must be wolfie.”

“why? because we’re partners in crime?” you snorted at his suggestion. “they get married at the end and have a bunch of little kitties too. you want that?”

“if that’s what you’d like,” he shrugged, his lips pulling into a downwards smile.

you stared at him incredulously, heartbeat suddenly pounding as you looked into the growing smug look on his face. his eyes that managed to shine even in the dark never failed to root you on the spot, unable to look away.

what were you feeling? you've looked at jungwon so many times over the past 5 years, but the boy's gaze never made you feel like this way before. like you were floating on air; like you could do anything with him by your side, looking at you like that.

in fact, thinking back to all your years of knowing him, it's funny how much things have changed in the past several months.

you actually giggle a bit, sitting back, further from his warmth. you immediately miss the soft touch of his fingers around your wrists.

"what are you laughing about?" he asks, but he's laughing too.

"you. me; us."

"are we comedians now or something?"

"no, but we're definitely clowns of the circus." jungwon grinned at your statement, an amused huff escaping his lips.

"penny for your thoughts?"

"i was just thinking... how did we go from having wars in the middle of DADA in 3rd year, to watching muggle barbie movies at 2am on a saturday?" you think out loud.

"when you put it like that... we do sound like the comedy act of a show," he admits, scratching the back of his neck.

"at least i do."

"what do you mean?" you ask, shifting your position on the couch to sit up. you move your cold feet so they rest between jungwon's ankles, soaking in their warmth.

"our little feud - you know, the fights, the hexes, all that. it was all because of me."

"what? no it wasn't - i instigated a lot of them too," you say, trying to reassure him. was he feeling guilty and blaming himself?

"but, it was! honestly, if it wasn't for my stupid shallow thinking, we might've been friends way earlier." you looked at him patiently, nodding for him to continue.

"i used to think that muggle-borns were stupid and would fall behind in everything - school, work, just because you had no idea of how our world worked. honestly, i pitied and felt sorry for you guys, because i thought you could never be on our level. i know now how ignorant i was, obviously," he scoffed at himself.

"so when i met you, i thought you were an idiot. you are, don't get me wrong-" he teased you, causing you to roll your eyes, although smiling lightly. "but even though you're muggle-born, you always managed to do better than me.

"you were constantly the best student in our year- no, our school. you were faster at understanding concepts than i was, immediately getting things right on the first try. hell, even when i would go flying on the pitch to relieve my stress and then got recruited into the ravenclaw team in third year, i finally thought i was better than you at something. and then you joined your team in 4th, and was called the 'ace' of slytherin. what a blow all of that to was to my ego."

"i joined the team to annoy you," you shyly admit. "but why did you even think that in the first place?" you asked, not angry. you wanted to hear him out and finally get answers to questions you've asked yourself for so many years. you wanted to understand, and know the boy in front of you.

"well, you know that my father's company is successful. so growing up, i was given the best. my parents hired the best tutors for me, so i'd be ahead of everyone else when i started hogwarts. my teachers said i was their best student, my parents showed me off to their friends as their 'pride and joy' or something dumb like that. other parents compared their kids to me, i was that kid.

"i knew i was privileged though - that i had money and could afford to have this good education. so i made the best of it and constantly told myself that others would be lucky to have my life, so i wanted to prove i was worthy of it by working hard and pushing myself all my life.

"but with that, i developed the mindset that people who don't have money like i do can't have as much knowledge as me since they don't have access to it - and that included muggle-borns. you had zero knowledge of this world, which works incredibly different to yours. we have different moral compasses; notions of common sense; understanding of how things worked.

"so imagine how surprised i was to find that you were doing better than me in school. me, who had sat beside a tutor since i was 6, who was learning OWL content at 12. all this only for a girl who didn't even know magic existed until a month before to top me in school.

"that's why i was always angry; i was angry with my tutors for not teaching me better; at you for being better. but most especially at myself. for deluding myself into thinking that way." you two were silent for a moment.

"what changed?" you asked.

jungwon breathed in, preparing himself.

"5th year. i was finally learning to respect you, so when i walked into the library that was full of students, you seemed like the best option to sit next to."

"really? still hadn't gotten over that 'i'm better than everyone blah blah blah' attitude?" you asked, smugly tilting your head to the side.

"shush," he hid his face. "but... i got to learn how hard you really worked back then. i used to think you just had some gift for learning. but watching you with your head down for hours, i felt like i was discrediting all that with something like 'innate talent'.

"i went back home that summer confused and having a mid-life crisis at 16. my dad talked to me though, knocked some sense into me.

"he said that just because muggles don't know magic, doesn't mean they can't do anything. i mean, the whole idea of smart devices that our company is literally known for was taken from muggles! without you guys, we wouldn't have that in our world either. you created it, we just used magic to expand it.

"i was pretty shaken up after that, and was in a daze when 6th year started. it took me a while to sort my thoughts out and gather myself."

it was silent for a while, now nearing 3am.

jungwon just spilled out his guts to you, in the dim atmosphere of your common room. now you were the one collecting your thoughts.

"i'm sorry too."

"what? you never did anyth-"

"but i basically did the same thing as you. you studied for years and years, and i just always thought you were also naturally smart; that you never needed to study like i did because you already knew it all."

silence enveloped the two of you once again.

"...so i guess we're more similar than we thought, huh?" he smiled softly at you. you felt like you were floating again.

"i guess so."

jungwon unfolded his legs and opened his arms out as a gesture, which you gladly accepted and fell into his embrace.

"so, are we good now?" you asked.

"hmm, i still feel like you owe me something for all those years of endless anger and feeling like shit."

"you mean for enlightening you that we stupid muggles aren't so stupid?" you asked, face still buried in his chest, your voice muffled against his sweatshirt. "shouldn't you owe me? for teaching you a lesson?"

"but i want something," he pouted, pulling on your wrist.

"what is it? as long as its affordable."

"is going to the spring ball with me affordable?"

you turn your head to look up at him, who's looking down at you with shy eyes, waiting for your answer.

"i don't know... how much does it cost?" you play along. you already know your answer anyway.

"it'll cost you about..." he pulled out the calculator app on his phone, pretending to add up a total. "one kiss."

you laughed at him, finally pulling away from his arms.

"was that at the end of 5th year not enough?"

"no," he pouted, eyebrows knitted. so cute, you thought.

"alright then, but is it okay if i pay you that hefty price later at the ball?" jungwon sighed dramatically, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.

"i guess... but the price might increase to 10."

"that's okay, i'll give you as many as you want, as long as the first one is special."

"i didn't know you were sentimental like that," he smirked at you, kissing your cheek. you shrugged nonchalantly, smiling at him.

"i didn't know you were so needy for kisses like that."

"touché," he laughed, dragging you in for another hug, cuddling you until you both fell asleep in each other's arms.

since that night, you and jungwon gradually learned to be comfortable each other. and with the ball preparations, there was lots of opportunities to do so.

you realised that - without the hostility between you two, it was much easier to find compromises when you disagreed on something. jungwon did things differently from you, but listened to your thoughts and offered his too.

as the weeks went on, you found yourself looking forward to meetings with him, missing his presence when he wasn’t with you.

something in the way he’d nudge you lightly when you were worried about something, wrap his arm around you and squeeze your shoulder, or simply smile at you brightly with those cat-like eyes of his - they were all comforting.

the change in atmosphere didn’t go unnoticed by your friends either.

"what was that??" rei interrogated you when jungwon pulled you aside for the nth time this week.

"oh, he just wanted to talk about putting up decor later," you answer nonchalantly, taking a bite out of your toast.

"he has the same conversation with you practically every day," minji rolled her eyes.

"yeah, and i'm more surprised that you don't come ranting to us about every interaction you two have," hiyyih agrees, eyeing you suspiciously.

"well, i just grew up and matured," you try to defend yourself.

"if growing up and maturing means developing a crush, then yeah. you sure did." rei pauses before continuing. "is there something you aren't telling us?"

technically, yes. you weren't telling them about the development between you and jungwon - at least not yet. but you didn't exactly have a crush on the boy, in the sense that it was a one-sided thing and you were too shy to confess. but you didn't really want to tell them what was going on between you two, because you didn't know yourself.

were you and jungwon friends(-ish)? yes. but were you dating? no, definitely not. there's no doubt though that your strange, blurry, undefined relationship will develop soon enough, and you'd rather wait until everything's clear before telling your friends.

"she's not saying anything - something is definitely up!" hiyyih gasped excitedly, causing rei and minji to giggle, and you to shake your head.

you had noticed that jungwon seemed to always find reasons to talk to you, even if it's little things you've already discussed before, or silly simple questions like 'how's your day going?' or 'what barbie movie are we watching tonight?'

yeah, you two often found yourselves watching barbie movies late into a friday night.

you also ended up cuddling on the couch almost every evening after a long day of duties, particularly on patrol nights. after your rounds, you two would head back up to the head dormitories, where you'd flop onto the couch, and he'd jump onto you soon after.

the others would go crazy if they ever found out, you laugh to yourself.

the next day would be the night of the ball, so you were pretty wrapped up in helping out throughout the day.

"everything's set up," haerin, a 5th year gryffindor prefect told you.

"it looks really good," you tell her, looking at the great hall. it looked great now, and you were excited for how it would turn out in the dark of the night later.

"did you manage to complete the spell?" she asked curiously.

"i did, but i'm only 89.7% sure it'll work," you say, biting your lip. you hated not being completely sure about something, like an answer, or in this case - a self-made spell.

you turn when you hear a laugh behind you.

"i like how you have a specific percentage even when it comes to feelings," jungwon says through a grin. "your brain works weirdly"

"whatever, kitty," you roll your eyes light heartedly at him.

facing the great hall again, you take a deep breath as you cast the spell on the great hall, chanting the incantation as you wave your wand.

in a moment, the hall was filled with falling petals of different colours, though they didn't litter the ground messily, simply disappearing when they reached the ground. vines reached out from between the tiled floor, wrapping around table legs and growing bright vibrant flowers of their own. small orbs of light flickered throughout the ceiling, like fairies illuminating the scene.

"wow, it looks amazing, y/n!" one of the professors helping around praised.

"it really does," jungwon says, snaking his arm around your waist, his hand clinging onto your side snuggly.

"thank you," you mumble, as you both look up at the pretty scene in front of you.

soon, night falls and you're running down the staircase with your friends, holding up the ends of your dress to avoid stepping on it.

"careful y/n! or you might trip!" you hear hiyyih call out from behind you.

"she's just excited to see her prince charming," minji laughs, but the three of them are also running, holding up their own dresses.

the doors of the great hall open, revealing the breathtakingly decorated room, some guests already having arrived at the scene.

"wow, this is amazing..." rei gasped, enchanted by the way coloured lights perfectly illuminate the hanging wisteria flowers, and butterflies fluttering throughout the room.

"you seriously outdid yourself. how did you even do this?" hiyyih asked.

"only y/n could make a spell as complicated as this," jungwon's voice says, announcing his presence. "you look good, by the way," he adds when you look at him.

a quick one-over of his look tonight does not do him justice. so you find yourself staring unashamedly at his figure.

the way his waistcoat hugs his figure emphasises his broad shoulders, something you didn't even realise you found attractive until you saw it on him. a red tie lazily tucked into the waistcoat plus the rolled-up sleeves - it all made your mind go haywire.

"you would know, having been subjected to all the spells she's made over the years," hiyyih laughs at the memory.

"didn't know you spent so much time thinking about me, kim," he goaded.

"oh trust me, she def-" you cut rei off by covering her mouth with your gloved hand.

"thanks, jungwon," you say quickly, giving him a smile and pushing your friends away.

"he was flirting with you!" rei loudly whispers into your ear.

"and what do you want me to do about it!" you say, making sure your friends couldn't see the deep blush on your face.

"flirt back!" minji huffs out exasperatedly. "i'm sick and tired of whatever has been going on between you two for years!"

"yes, please just end it tonight! whether you get together or never talk about it again," rei rolls her eyes.

"what?" you stop, looking at them.

"rei's right, although i'd prefer for you to finally get together."

"wait wait wait, what do you mean?"

"are you being for real right now? you two have clearly had a thing for each other this whole time!" rei says like it was obvious. "we've known it for years."

"go get your man!" hiyyih sighs, turning you by your shoulders and pushing you away this time.

you try not to dwell on the thought of your friends betting on your relationship with jungwon, and pretend you never heard a word come out of their mouths.

soon, the headmaster calls for everyone's attention.

"welcome students!" his voice echoes throughout the hall, the music quietening for his speech. "first and foremost, i want to thank this year's head girl and boy for organising such an event for us. give it up for kim y/n and yang jungwon!" he shouts, a spot light highlighting your two figures in the room. you quickly turn to look at jungwon, who looks back at you with a smile, as everyone claps loudly, some even whistling supportively.

"and with that, may the spring ball begin - with the spring dance, kicking off with the head boy and girl leading the first dance," professor si-hyuk ends his speech.

everyone cheers and makes way for you two on the dance floor, which magically raises up in the middle of the hall.

music begins to play as you face the head boy, who inches closer to you every second.

time slows as he places his hand on your hips, guiding your hand to his shoulders. all other noise is drowned out by the sound of your heart, pounding so hard it might come out your chest. you don't see anyone but yang jungwon.

and he's looking at you like he sees no one else but you either.

it's crazy, how you're here, dancing, in the arms of the person who you've hated since 1st year - who motivated you to work hard during all these years.

you think back to your first meeting with him.

you could imagine the sparkles in your eyes as you stare at everything in awe, still in disbelief.

last month, a weirdly-dressed person knocked at your front door, and told your parents that you were a witch.

of course, you hadn't believed her at first, until she pointed her wand at a decorative figurine and made it float upside down. you and your family had been absolutely floored and confused. how could something like that even happen?

last month, the weirdly-dressed lady described to you a world that sounded fictional, of magic and creatures you could never even imagine. she explained why you had all these weird happenings growing up, things that were simply unexplainable.

your world was turned upside down in a few moments, and now you were here, on a train, to a magical school.

of course, you were incredibly sad to be away from your family for the first time in your life, but you were assured that you still had many ways to connect with them. and so, you set off into a new world completely alone, but with a lot of excitement.

you walked around the compartments as the train set off, peering and saying hi to other students.

until, you bumped into a boy who had the prettiest eyes you've ever seen, and the cutest little dimple that had 11-year old you's heart melting.

"be careful and look where you're going," he says nonchalantly.

"i'm so sorry! i was just so excited - i mean, aren't you? could you ever believe magic exists? i won't until i try it for myself!" you ramble enthusiastically.

you trail off when you see him looking at you with a mix of pity and boredom.

"oh, so you're a muggle-born, huh?"

"what do you mean?" you ask confusedly.

"well, whatever you think, i'm not like you. i already know what you just learned, and i already know what you still have to learn," he shrugs, picking at his nails like he ha better things to do than talk to you. "sorry, i think you're going to struggle a little bit here," he simply says, and leaves you alone in the middle of the train corridor.

what the hell? you ask yourself.

snobby rich kids isn't something you thought you'd experience in the wizarding world, but i guess somethings are just universal, huh?

something about the way he looked at you; talked to you like you were below him though - it bugged you.

"i'm gonna struggle?" you ask yourself in disbelief. absolutely not, you didn't want him to be right. you'll make sure of it.

and so, you ran back to your own compartment and pulled out your books, making a resolution to study everything and make sure you knew all the content. you wanted to show whoever that kid is that he's wrong, that you're better than him.

and so, the rest of the long ride and even your first night was spent catching up on what you missed out on, making sure you were prepared for whatever this extraordinary world would throw at you.

and most especially, preparing for whatever trouble the boy, who's name you learned was yang jungwon would give you.

gradually, more people join the dance, but you're so entranced by the boy in your arms, you don't notice how he's whisked you away from the main dance floor.

now towards the side of the room, away from all attention, jungwon looks down at you with all the love in his eyes.

it's overwhelming, you can't escape your emotions anymore. you like jungwon, possibly even more. you feel like all these feelings are about to burst out of you, and jungwon's arms are the only thing keeping you together.

"y/n, i think you still owe me something," he whispered, his face dangerously close to yours.

"and what would that be?" you naturally retort, having developed the instinct to talk back when it came to him.

"don't play with me, please let me kiss you."

"i don't think so." you pause teasingly, trying not to giggle at his pout, his dimple coming out. "let me kiss you," you say, finally leaning in, sealing your lips.

it felt just like the one back in 5th year, but better. jungwon held you impossibly closer by the waist, as if fearing you would run away. but you won't, and you never will. because in his arms, you never felt as safe and comfortable in your own skin as you did then.

you finally part for air, but jungwon's eyes never strayed from your face.

"i lied earlier by the way, when i said you looked good." you raise your eyebrows at him questioningly, before he smiles cheekily at you. "you look like the stars that put me to sleep every night."

"i didn't know you were poetic like that," you laughed lightly, leaning your forehead on his chest. "you look like my boyfriend."

"that's because i am," he says pulling you in for another kiss.

you don't think you'll ever get tired of kissing him. it's an unforgettable moment, and an unforgettable night.

you never knew you were missing something until you met jungwon, and you think you can finally breathe with him next to you (and your friends passing riki 20 galleons each two tables away). 

; author's corner! hii this was inspired by all the jily fics i've read over the years (whew i didn't even realise how long i've been reading fanfiction...) LMAO anyways may irls never find out this acc belongs to me bc my realistic self barfed at what i just wrote but my delulu self was kicking and giggling while editing but i hope you enjoyed!

; taglist @wonuslust @enhacatalog @makiswrld @forjungwons @yebin14 @lovelovelovebts @amanda-archives @beomgyusonlywife @bbinwrld@em-asian @enhamysunshines @ahnneyong @jungwonscafe bold couldn't be tagged!

[blue-sadie]

A Bit Feral

Ethan Landry x Reader x Spider

Scream 6

Summary: meeting your boyfriends feral side

Warning: chocking, double penetration, blow job, name calling, aged up characters

Yn/3rd person pov

"What did you say his name was again" I asked looking between my boyfriend and his doppelganger who was seated in the living staring at the TV as it played some weird cartoon.

"Spider ...... spider socorro he didn't really say much after that" ethan murmured as he scratched the back of his head I was about to go speak to the doppelganger when ethan blurted out "be careful he hasn't met anyone else besides me".

I slowly walked to the living and cleared my throat to get his attention "yn" he said scrambling to he's feet and hugging me tightly my eyes widened 'he knows me' I glanced at ethan who looked just as stunned.

"How do you know me" I squeaked out and breathed heavily when he finally let go he tilted his head and gave me a look of confusion "yn it's me" he said "dude you got the wrong girl" ethan murmured moving to stand beside me but spider growled before pushing him away and pulling me into his chest.

My minds filled with different possibilities or solutions "ethan spiderverse the spiderverse" I murmured looking at him and it clicked in his head "spider listen to me I'm not your yn" I said staring up at him and he gave me a confused look again "I'm yn yes but I'm a doppelganger or she's one but I'm not from your universes".

He let me go and I went to ethan to make sure he's ok i turned to spider to see him sit down and stare at the floor I glanced up at ethan and pecked his lips "I'm gonna make something to eat for you guys ok" I murmured and he nodded and went to sit by spider to get a bit more information out of him as I went into the kitchen to make some mac and cheese.

While making the food my mind winded back to when spiders arms were wrapped around my body and how his touch left goosebumps on my skin ethan would never do that to me he's to sweet and gentle but fuck I want it rough I bit my lip imagining spiders hand wrapped around me throat as he fucked me god I want it so bad.

I had to take a few minutes to calm down before bringing them the prepared food "careful it's hot" I murmured handing a bowl to spider which he happily took and started eating "you must be starving" I giggled sitting between him and Ethan before passing ethan his "thank you" ethan smiled and picked up the remote to put a movie one.

"Let's watch maze runner" I murmured glancing at ethan who mumbled an ok before putting it on "what is maze runner" spider asked and I was about to answer him but ethan did before "just a movie where yn has a crushes on all the characters especially newt" he grumbled "yeah basically" I laughed settling back on the couch.

-A Few Hours Later-

"I'm gonna go shower" ethan said as he got up and pecked my lips before heading to our room, me and spider sat in silence for a bit till he broke it "so explain to me about this whole multiverse thing to me again" he murmured turning to me "well it's like ethan is a copy of you and I'm a copy of your yn but our whole life is a complete different situation to yours" I explained.

He smiled as I started rumbling on and put his hand on my upper thigh making me shit up "see my yn also gets nervous when I do that" he growled and laughed as I gulped "I also know that my yn likes it hard and rough" he said leaning over slowly till his lips were a few inches away from mine "am I wrong".

And like an impulse I leaned up some my lips met his I know it was wrong but I just had to know what it feels like and our lips molded together passionately and my hands wrapped around his neck pulling him on top of me "fuck" I moaned as he moved his lips to my neck his hands running up and down my body "that's it" he growled against my neck.

His hands slipped under my shirt playing with my breasts "you wanna know something else my yn likes" he growled into my ear making me nod eagerly "this" he muttered before pinching both my nibbles "s-spider" I cried out my back arching into his hold he groaned as I grinded against him before pulling back "sit up" he muttered and helped me take off my shirt grinning down at my breasts.

"Please" I pleaded as his hands ran down to the waistband of my pants "can I" he asked "please" I mewled and watched carefully as he slowly pulled my pants down "your so fucking beautiful" he murmured laying gentle kisses over my skin "what the fuck" I jolted up to see ethan in nothing but sweat pants but spider didn't care and carried on "ethan it's not what it l-looks like" I tried to reason but spider stuck two of his fingers inside me.

"She likes it rough" spider muttered "w-what" he yelled stepping towards us "she likes it rough dude and I'm only giving her what you won't" spider said thrusting his fingers faster "fuck" I moaned out "i-is that true yn" ethan stuttered and I didn't want to answer him "answer him baby" spider smirked as he curled his fingers.

"Yes I'm so sorry ethan but fuck I need it rough" I cried out as I felt a knot began to form in my stomach "cum for me baby" spider chuckled as my body began to squirm and spasm "cumming" I whined as I clenched around his fingers.

"Fuck your gorgeous" he muttered pulling out his fingers and I looked guiltily at ethan my heart breaking at his broken expression "I'm really sorry ethan" I murmured looking at him but gasped as I saw something snap in his eyes "you want rough" he muttered and walked up to me grabbing my hair roughly and pulled me up kissing me roughly.

"Dam dude" spider laughed "get on the floor" ethan growled and forced me to the floor and my wetness only worsened, he pulled out his cock "suck" he said and I whined getting on my knees and taking him into my mouth "good bitch" he muttered taking a fist full of my hair "that's it dude" spider cheered getting off the couch sitting beside me.

Ethan took his cock out my mouth and decided I should take both of them as a punishment "fuck" I moaned sinking onto spiders cock as he layed underneath me "bounce bitch" he chuckled smacking my ass, I bit my lip as I started moving my eyes rolling as I rose and suck on his cock "lean forward" ethan growled pushing me against spiders chest as he settled behind me.

"Fuck" he cursed as he pushed in with spider and they only laughed as I screamed and cried out mocking my pitiful attempts to get away from him "nah uh your not going anywhere" spider laughed as they started thrusting hastily.

"To much" I cried my eyes rolling from the pain "you wanted this" ethan groaned wrapping his arms around my waist to rub my clit roughly "fuck" I cried as their cocks started to twitch inside me "fuck she's tight" spider groaned "fuck I'm cum inside her" ethan muttered as he started cumming making spider cum I cried out as I spasmed cumming as well.

"Is this what you wanted" ethan panted as he pulled out and settled beside us as I cuddled into spiders chest.

"Exactly what I wanted thank you"

[la-gotica-fantasma]

Too Close To A Never

setting - the glade (newts attempt.)

characters - newt x fem!reader

word count - 1,500

summary - Do Y/n and Newt hate each other? Or is there something else beyond those glares and glances? A tall fall may help to wrap up any confusions for the two.

request - Hello! If you are still taking imagines requests can I plz request a newt imagine?

Both newt & y/n never liked each other. But the day newt injured his leg, y/n realized her feelings for newt and stays with him through his recovery and refused to leave his side until he woke up. When he finally wakes up and he admits what he'd done and that he really likes her all along but he was too stubborn about it, he breaks down and reader engulfs him into a tight hug and she admits that she likes him back 🥹🥹🥹    

warnings - hate, talk of suicide

pov - third person

authors note - AHHHHHHHHHH. I GOT A REQUEST I STARTED DANCING AND JUMPING FOR JOY. AHHHHHH. I hope I did well enough for your standards suga

Newt sat smugly eating Frypan’s stew, a personal request from him to the cook.- Because of course, Newt always had to get what he wanted. 

Every few spoonfuls he shoved in his thin lipped mouth, he sent a glare Y/n’s way.

At his very last spoonful and very last pointed glance, he began to stand with his bowl in hand and waltz over to Y/n’s table. 

If Y/n was to be honest, Newt wasn’t all that bad. He was never crude or mean to Y/n. But the way her eyes automatically seemed to land on him when he was around never ceased to annoy her. 

“Hi, Y/n,” He smiled, then looking at the rest of the table greeted them, “and you guys.” 

Y/n hated his stupid pish posh and his accent, the way it so sweetly rolled off his tongue, his words like butter sliding from a hot knife. The obvious façade of care that he must get tired holding.

“M, Newt.” Y/n greeted with a nod. Picking up her bowl, she walked over to the trash can to toss the remnants of the veggies and beef. 

“Y’know,” Newt’s voice sounded from behind her, clearly trying to begin a conversation she wanted nothing to do with.

“I know nothing of the sort.” She spat back, straightening her posture and making way for the door.

This time Newt didn’t follow, and for some reason that made Y/n feel slightly down. 

~

The sun rose and shone harshly through the sticks the glader’s called walls. The runners had all likely left.

“Alright.” Y/n whispered to herself, already exhausted by the workload she knew she would soon be given the task of relieving. 

Saying goodbye to her humble abode of peace, she left the comfort of her hammock and scampered toward the Med-Hut.

Hours passed, and not one patient entered. There goes that for an exhausting workload. 

She sat in her little wooden chair, a piece of it cracked from the constant weight put on it. When Y/n didn’t sit there, her heavy slew of books did. 

“Help!” A disembodied voice shouted from outside. 

Y/n quickly jumped from her chair, sprinting out of the hut she was met with the alarming sight of a mangled leg having Newt being held up by an equally shocked Minho. 

After she forcefully ordered Minho to stay in the main room of the hut and wait, she ran into a back room to begin fixing Newt’s leg in the uncomfortable slumber he let crumble on top of him.

His leg was broken in three places. And he likely would attain a limp as a souvenir. 

Once again, hours upon hours passed. Y/n just sat beside the cot Newt lay, waiting. 

She wasn’t entirely sure what she was waiting on, but something wouldn’t let her leave the room, like she was tied. 

Y/n rested her chin on the sliver of space not occupied by Newt’s pain ridden body. Staring at his pretty freckled face, the kisses of comfort slumber had blessed him with, the small ‘hhmmm’ sounds that gracefully fell from his mouth, Y/n began to realize she did not hate Newt. 

Nor did she dislike him. 

Quite the contrary. She may even like him. 

It wasn’t sympathy, and nary a pinch of pity. She wouldn’t let herself leave this room because she liked him, and she couldn’t bear the idea of him waking up thinking nobody cared for him and his injuries. 

Newt let out two sharp gasps, one of shock, and the other of surprise. 

He looked at his leg, then up to Y/n, then to his leg, then Y/n, his leg, Y/n, leg, Y/n. 

His face turned a tomato paste red, his eyebrows cinching together so close that an ocean of wrinkles rested above them.

“Hey, hey.” Y/n called, bringing her hands up to his face to wipe the tears that adorned it. “Newt, you’re okay, nothings going to hurt you.” She promised. 

Her heart tumbled from its resting position in her chest all the way down to her feet, just at the mere sight of Newt. 

���Why- Why can’t it?” He choked out in between his sobs, her thumbs rapidly wiping away the tears that seemingly never stopped. 

Oh. 

Y/n was so wrong, her heart hadn’t yet fallen. Now it had.

“What?” She stressed out, scooting impossibly closer to him. 

“It was me.” He cried, bringing his arms up to wrap his hands around Y/n’s wrists, frantically begging for an escape route. 

“What was you?” She nudged in a hushed tone.

Worried couldn’t begin to describe how she felt.

“I- I jumped.” He confessed, his stutters were like wind beating on a flag.

Y/n just stood there, zero movement, in shock. 

These degenerate creators and their idiotic ideas has run Newt down to his last rusty gear. When she gets her hands on them, she’d surely be leaving in a pine box.

“And now- and now you’re here-, and you- nobody was- meant to- find me-” He stuttered. 

Y/n got up from her kneeling position to lean over and hug Newt. One arm wrapped under his arm and her other arm over his shoulder. She pulled him into her with all her might, careful not to hurt him more. 

His head nuzzled into her neck, his cries continuing. “Do you hate me?” He whispered. Y/n almost didn’t hear him.

“Hate you?” Y/n asked, far louder than Newt had been previously. 

“Yes. Hate me. In this bloody SAW trap, do you hate me?” He whispered. Leaving a pause, he continued, “Will you ever not hate me?” 

“I-” Y/n sighed, pulling away from him slightly to look at him as she spoke, “I far from hate you. I think I like you. A lot more than I probably should.” 

“Well shuck.” Newt muttered.

“Hm. Shuck.” Y/n granted. 

“I like you, I was stubborn.” Newt whispered, sliding his hand down to hers. 

“I think I was a bit too stubborn too.”

“Better late than never?” Newt asked.

He was so close to a never, and if he got that never, Y/n probably would never have realized how she felt for him, would never get to make amends for the way they acted with eachothers cross contaminated attitudes. 

Newt looked up at her with those glistening eyes. With pure zeal, Y/n dipped her head down and slid her free hand back to Newt’s shoulder. Newt nudged his head forward, signaling for a kiss, but he waited to see if she wanted it too. 

Their lips connected. It didn’t feel like fireworks, or emotional explosions like all those books had said. It felt like a normalcy to be welcomed. It felt like a part of her was a cup being filled with each millisecond they stayed together. 

It felt like freedom.

“Better late than never.” She swore against his lips.

[inlovewhithafairytale]

Masterlist

Teen Wolf

She looked at me as if there was something worth seeing in me(Theo R.)

I think we lost her(Theo R.)

Because I love you you little piece of shit(Theo R.)

I think we lost her II(Theo Raeken)

You belong with me(Stiles S.)

You're beautiful just the way you are(Stiles S.)

First time you ever listen to me( Sister reader)

You got the devil on your team(Void Stiles)

Maze Runner

He was only 17(Newt)

Marvel

Keep your head up soldier(The Winter Soldier)

TVD/TO

Elijah Mikelson x Reader Headcannon

Yandere Klaus Mikelson x Reader Headcannon

Multifandom

I don't want to forget

A letter from Y/n to reader

SUPERNATURAL

POV series wich include a mini stories of Winchester little sister reader.

Why and how this is going to go...

⛥⛧Pilot-01x01

part 1

part 2

⛥⛧Flashback series

" flash news. you have a little sister"

"promise you wont leave"

POV: The Winchesters have a little sister 1 2 3

Supernatural masterlist.

STRANGER THINGS

I'm right here (Billy Hargrove)

DC

Of Flowers and Coffee(Jason Todd) ☆Chapter 1 (It started with Hi) ☆Chapter 2 (Has the temper of the devil but with me he's such an angel) ☆Chapter 3 (Now we're kissing under the stars)

[kriz-fics]

The Sword's Legacy

Series Summary: As the heir of your father's lands, you have grown up knowing that one day you must wed to your House's advantage, and there's no better catch than the younger son of the Magister himself. Meanwhile tensions within the king's court are set to come to a head at any moment - it just needs that spark to send everything ablaze. Now in a court more dangerous than the one you entered, you find distraction and joy in the company of the beautiful boy with the beautiful eyes. You can only hope to weather the storm you can sense brewing in the horizon.

Masterlist

Chapter Nineteen: Weeds and Duty

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Female Reader

Genre: Royalty AU, Historical Fantasy AU, Romance, Politics, Warfare, Eventual Smut (future chapters), Slow Burn

Length: 9.7K

CW: Pretty tame this chap, though there is a bit of friskiness in there. Recommended listening for YN's POV in the beach: Dancing in the Rain

“Ah, this one would be-”

“Demon’s thistle, sir.”

The Lord Alexander Rhyzkov laughs. “My daughter has taught you well.”

Eren lets forth his own chuckle. “That she has, sir.”

That dreaded day of goodfatherly bonding turns out not to be so dreadful. A huge bear of a man he may be, but the Lord Paramount of Vascalin is as gentle as a pup, and amiable as he always is.

Eren had started the day utterly sick with nerves. On the one hand, dawdling in his rooms seemed like a very viable option. He had almost done so; the thought of what his future father by marriage would say (or do) were he late killed the notion dead. Eren hastened forth, as frightened as if he were walking to the scaffold. 

Like the condemned, he took inventory of his sins, especially those against the ancient House of Rhyzkov. Not many, to be sure, but he had trespassed now and again. He could’ve endeared himself better to the family in the wheelhouse when they were yet traveling. There was that incident with the newt and Lydia (she did keep the thing as a pet and laughed about it afterward, but still). Then, there was his worst sin, the worst and blackest of them all, which had everything to do with the Rhyzkovs’ beloved heir and his less-than-pure thoughts of her over the past year…

He resolved never to look the Lord of Arsechkala in the eye, then - eye contact was crucial for the reading of minds, and Eren had taken into his head that the lord of bears could somehow read his.

Funny that his first battle (which was not a battle, not in the truest sense) had not been half as petrifying as the prospect of spending time alone with his future goodfather. The absurdity of it all had sobered him. He is an anointed knight, the Falcon Knight, the Knight of Highridge, he had faced worse things. He is a man and this would not unman him. And so he went, determined to face it like the man he is.

He need not have girded up his loins so tightly, for good fortune smiled upon him. For this day, at least.

“Not all weeds are an evil, as any man of the field will tell you. Some have their uses.” Lord Alexander pulls up another bunch of fine, silvery spider weed and adds it to his already teeming basket. “Some are eaten, some are drunk, some have other, more extraordinary uses.” He considers the mass in his hamper and nods in approval. “I think I have enough for the making of one kerchief. For the sweet lady of the house.”

The utter love in the older man’s mien resonates with Eren. His own lady’s sweet smiling face fills his world. He has a gift for you (another, yet another, you can never get too much, he can never give too much), furnished by nature as well. It is no delicate scrap of gauzy spider silk but it should be no less remarkable. Or so he hopes. It will all rely on his skill; hard work has never been so crucial, not if he wants what is best for his lady.

“There’s a lesson to be had in weeds, I think,” Lord Alexander goes on, uprooting dandelions and adding them to his second basket, filled with more dandelions, clovers, and nettles. Edible weeds, fit for tea. “I shan’t lay them all out, but they’re there, if you care to think on it.”

The Month of Resting came upon them at a slow creep and with it true autumn for them as live in the South. The autumn storms blew ever more fierce each week, which heralded the closing of the ports. A serene silence fell over the city as the people took their rest from seasons’ worth of hard work. The rains drive them all within and keep them there, in any case, as though determined to let them have that much-needed respite from the slog.

Goldhaven’s sanctum is not so green as before. Browns and yellows and oranges, crimson and gold, autumn’s hues paint the sacred gardens in vast swathes. The ever-present wind is chill and cuts through cloth as a hot knife cuts through butter (for those stupid enough not to dress proper up here, anyway). The day dawned a rare one, lacking cloud and shade, and so Goldhaven’s lord sent the dire invitation at last.

“How has your stay been so far?” Lord Alexander eyes a bunch of still-blooming goldenglow thoughtfully, before adding them to his tea basket.

A clutch of raven blades catch Eren’s eye. Good for the memory, you tell him helpfully, and so he sets about taking them up. He can give them to you for your brews. “It’s been a terrific couple of months, I thank you so much for the hospitality,” he answers the lord’s erstwhile question, polite as pie.

Lord Alexander hums in approval. A comfortable silence, one of many occurring that day, falls upon knight and lord. For a long while, Eren is content to spend the time merely weeding, searching for those that can be of use to his sweet Healer. Most boys will be searching for flowers for their girls, not weeds, yet here he is. The thought is most humorous. He had given you a lifetime’s worth of blooms the past season, in any case; you are always better off with a little more variety, he likes to think.

“You grew up in part in the South, yes? Lenberg, as I recall. Is it so very different from these parts?” Lord Alexander hands him a blackberry from the nearby bush and eats one himself.

Eren murmurs thanks and pops the morsel in his mouth. It is sweet if a little tart, and succulent; the juice runs down his throat in sugary rivulets, so very tasty. “It is different, sir, but not so much that both sides are distinct from the other. Different tongue, different customs, but otherwise the same.” He smiles a little. “Now that I’ve spent time without them, I find that I can miss our holy days. The Creed’s, I mean. Not that it’s deadly dull here or anything!” he rushes to clarify before the lord can take offense. “It’s just… You don’t celebrate much. But if you do, it’s so much more… exciting.”

The lord, to Eren’s great, good fortune, does not take offense. “‘Tis true, we don’t have cause to celebrate any one god for every month of the year, and so we limit ourselves to life’s most significant occasions. But, see, we have more gods than the Creed could ever fathom. If we did as you do, we would be feasting every day forevermore to appease the Old Ones, they who are nameless and without number.”

Eren steals a look at the nearby godstone. It is the cleanest, most well-cared-for godstone he has ever seen, so much so that he can see every detail upon the proud, serene face of the featured god. How many gods does this one represent? he wonders.

“So, a knight you are now,” the Lord Alexander remarks, absently, almost to himself. He seems far away from Eren then, though he is standing not five feet away, twirling a bloom of poppy between his fingers. He catches Eren’s stare and smiles beneath his big, luxurious beard. “A title most well-earned. Not easily, I know,” the older man’s eyes linger on Eren’s face, at the slash above his left eyebrow, then flickers to his right arm, at the puckered scar concealed by his tunic’s sleeve. “It seems we are both marked by that day.” The lord rubs at the rich amber sleeve of his robe distractedly, at the right forearm that bears the mark of the northman’s blade. “But yours were more nobly begotten. It is no small feat to save the life of the Majesty himself.”

“It was my duty.” They are his own words, it is his own tongue, yet Eren hears a stranger speaking.

“Duty.” Lord Alexander seems to ponder the word. The poppy twirls in his hand, red petals spinning left, right, and back again, unceasing. The older man gathers himself, and Eren finds that he has held his breath, bracing for what his future goodfather may say. “She is your duty.”

That… is most unexpected. “Sir?” Eren frowns a little, confused.

“Her. The Lady Rhyzkova to come. She will be your calling, the heart of your service. Oh, they make you swear, to defend, to be truthful, to be loyal. To serve. But such vows these are. Who shall you defend? The weak, the helpless. To whom should you be loyal? To her, your liege. Yet, in the end, it all comes back to the king, who is above all.”

The poppy drifts from the large and lordly hand, to land lightly on the basket atop the goldenglow. Red on gold. The Rhyzkov colors inversed. 

“Service is the very essence of a knight,” the lord continues his solemn speech, “but you are more than just her knight. Of knights she has aplenty, of husbands she will have only the one. Knights are loyal, obedient, dutiful, yet their vows would have them serve many, too many. A husband has only to serve one. A husband is bound only to one. For where she goes, will you go. From two now as one, your hearts forever bind.”

The words of the wedding rite. New and old both. 

Eren can feel his heart beat just that bit faster as his goodfather-to-be fixes him with the most imposing look. “The weak, the helpless, the king, you have a duty to them. But next to her, what are they? Remote and far away and not immediate. She is your everyday. Your duty, you will revolve around her. So be there for her. Be there for her, Eren, as her mother is for me.”

The smile the older man gives Eren softens the austere lines of the bearded face as he goes on, “It is a heavy burden, to rule. It is tiring and oppressive, so very oppressive. And it gets lonely, up there at the seat of power. She will need you to help her bear the chains of command. Carry her, protect her, love her. We do not oft come into it, love, not our sort, but I think…” Eren fights not to look away as Lord Alexander gazes at him with so much gravity as if to lay bare the very soul of him. Her eyes. You have the lord’s eyes. You are the very image of your mother, but for those eyes. The wicker of his basket digs into his palms. “Yes, I think love is not such a hard commission, not for you.”

Loving tenderness takes the lord’s face over once more as he bends to pluck more poppies. “I would have fallen beneath the weight of my own chains had Theresia not been there with me through it all,” says Lord Alexander, so very softly. “Love her, Eren. That is all I ask, as a father who loves his daughter. Keep to that duty and I will rest content.”

Duty. She can be such a poxy bitch at times. It had never been for her sake that Eren took up the call to arms. Duty had been far from his mind when he set out to become a warrior. They are not so much strangers nowadays. He had learned the way of duty over the years, she is not so exacting a mistress as he makes her out to be, granted. Yet he is slowly coming to find that she is easier to bear with some more than others.

He can bear duty to you. “I will, sir. There’s no one else I’d sooner serve than her,” Eren Jaeger avows, with his own words and his own tongue.

The lord bends to pick up his baskets, pleased and so very content. “Nothing could please me more.” He is a big man, Alexander Rhyzkov, a veritable bear of a lord, yet his countenance at present is more redolent of a child’s stuffed bear than a living, savage one. “Of all the candidates for the hand of my daughter, you are the best of them, I see that now. I could not have asked for a better goodson.”

Warmth blooms deep within Eren at the heartening words. “I-I’m glad you think so, my lord,” he forces out and stoops to retrieve his own basket - the better to look away from the older man, he is so flattered and so, so flustered - then hurriedly snatches his hand back as he spies a centipede crawling amidst his harvested greens.

“Ah, here.” Lord Alexander strides forward with a stick he had procured from the nearby bushes and proceeds to scoop the poisonous thing up. He flicks the stick and the creature away, into the blackberry bushes; the hundred-legged thing vanishes beneath the undergrowth. “Such nasty creatures, but so vital to life’s cycle. As are so many others… Come, lad, we have weeded as much as we can, let us leave them to repopulate the area in peace. You have much still to learn. Unless my girl has been a thorough teacher, in which case you must show me the fruits of her knowledge.”

“We both have a lot to learn, sir, but she was very thorough with what she knew. I only hope to have made her a good student.” He did, when all is said and done, which comes as a great relief. It will not do for him to make such a fool of himself, or to undermine his lady’s capabilities. You will find in him a good and able servant, which is just as well. You are as fine a mistress as he can ever hope to serve.

My lady, my mistress, my duty. It will seem that they all three are one and the same. If you are duty, though, you are not such a poxy bitch now, are you?

“A fountain such as this would work well, don’t you think?”

You consider Yelena’s fount, watching the water spray into air and trickle down stone. The skies above are not so gray as the pool, and don’t threaten rain. It is a good day for gardening. You had offered to replenish Healer Darya’s stores and had seized your chance when the day dawned fine and bright. You had not been long at your labors before Father happened upon you in the green (that was not so green), intending to do his own spot bit of gardening. The company is much welcome. You would’ve invited Eren had he not had the yen to spar the morning away. And it has been a while since you and your father have spoken in a more relaxed setting away from statecraft and policy.

A patch of stink bloom is flowering not a foot from you. You give the plant a wide berth, wrinkling your nose and thanking the gods that you have not stepped on those. They are the most horrid things in the garden by far; curiously (and most ironically), they also make up the stuff of the best perfumes in existence. Everything has its uses, even life’s dregs. You give your father answer at last, “Yes, a fine fountain would be a good idea. It’ll make it more the water gardens you envision, what with the river and all.”

Lord Alexander hums, though his pleasant mien is replaced almost at once with one more regretful. “Yes, I can see it now, the Sphere restored to its old glory, perhaps even better than before! Ah, I should have started years ago, when all was quieter and we could better afford to be extravagant. All those years staying at the place and not once did I see its worth. The gods only know why they sent the curse of yearning a score too late.” He sighs and picks up his pruning shears. “The Lady Zoya had the right of it. War makes misers of us all.”

“You think it will come to that?” 

You are staring back into your own eyes, all of a sudden. The Rhyzkov eyes. Men are wont to say you have your mother’s look, the Dietrich look, yet your eyes are all Rhyzkov.

The Rhyzkov eyes that behold you soften. “Once, there was the sweetest little girl of six tottering about the council chambers. The flagon she carried was half her height and weighed like bricks. She was barely tall enough to see over the table but she did her duty well and ably, never was a better cupbearer ever seen in those parts. That same little girl would bring us joy of a night when she would give her little speeches at dinner. A passage from some political treatise she was too young to understand, a short poem of legends past, whatever the Herald had her recite to ease her tongue and nerves to public speech, all brought us such delight.” Melancholy wistfulness fills those Rhyzkov eyes. “It seemed like such a short time ago, those years of bliss. Now, that little girl is a woman grown.”

“Not just yet,” you are compelled to point out, smiling slightly.

Lord Alexander huffs in amusement. “A year makes no difference, it will pass us by faster than we’d all like.”

“What was war like?”

Something seems to fracture behind those Rhyzkov eyes. The sight wrenches at your heart, but you must know.

“I see you are not to be put off. Admirable in a ruler, inconvenient for the father of that ruler, when she asks the most inconvenient questions.” Father heaves a deep breath, his massive shoulders rising and falling with the action. “I was your age when red war broke out, or near enough as makes no matter. Your lady grandmother was no novice of battle, she had seen her share of transgressors over the years. All of them foreign, as it happened, Cydamae in those days had been hellbent on conquest. We hit them hard enough to scare them off, thank the gods. For this lifetime, at least.

“You will never learn battle as I have, you have been blessed in that, child. It is no easy thing, to take a life with your own hands, to see the light leave their eyes as they enter the ether, to feel their bodies giving way beneath your steel… Or, should I say, it is too easy. People should die harder than that, I remember thinking then. What life you will take will be by your word. Some say that is easier by far, but sometimes, I put that into question. Their ghosts still haunt you all the same… But it is a necessity you have to bear, for the greater good.

“I wish I could tell you more about how it is to rule through such times, but I have never had that chance. Would that your lady grandmother was here with us now. I was only ever her warrior, her soldier, taught to obey commands first and foremost. The ruling came after all was at peace. All I can do is ease the way for you and pass on her wisdom.” The look of melancholy deepens. “With things the way they are these days… Outlanders are not our greatest enemies and never have been. For as long as she has been, Lovaya has contended with enemies from within more often than those from without.”

The skies seem grayer now up above, the wind brisker, chillier. It makes the green rustle louder than before and near muffles the sound of the fountain. “Know that I do not want to see you in such times, child,” Father says, so very softly. “I only hope that this is but a passing shadow, as it has always ever been. I hope I have done well by you, in any case, come what may.”

Come what may. Your fingers wrap about your gardening shears and hold fast. “I won’t fail you, Father.” In that, I have no choice. No choice but to thrive, and succeed, for too much hung in the balance. Your city, your State, your folk.

You stiffen with surprise as Father comes close, bends, and presses his forehead lightly upon yours. For a while, you stay thus, father and daughter taking comfort from the other in this their sacred sanctuary. You close your eyes briefly and take in the beloved scent of solace, of tea and leaves and green growing things, so full of life. You wrap yourself in it, as you had your favorite childhood blanket, the one you could not do without, for without its protection, the monsters in the dark would come and take you away to the deepest hell. You feel the scratchiest of kisses upon your forehead. “You are so very young, sweet child.” Father moves away, and you are a woman grown once more. Or near enough as makes no matter.

“I suppose we had best hurry, if it’s threatening rain. What else must you gather?” Father asks as he turns to his gardening once more.

You appraise your basket, running over the list of herbs in your mind, before replying, “Dittany.”

“Dittany…” Your father beckons you over to a hedge of shrubs lining the righthand parapet of the sanctum. The distinctive gray-green leaves of the healing herb stares up at you from beneath the hedgerows.

“I never thought to see that adage come alive in you,” Father remarks as you bend to cut yourself a clutch of greens.

“What adage?” you ask vaguely, distracted by the pressing task of choosing the best specimen for use.

“The hands of a ruler are the hands of a healer.” Father brushes a gentle hand over your head. “That you shall be, I know, in more ways than one. They will love you well, when you come into your own. The Light of the South, as your grandmother was and her mother before her and all the ruling ladies of Arsechkala there ever was, back to the Queens of Sand and Sea.”

You stand, cradling your basket. The Light of the South. You smile as Father wraps a huge arm around your shoulders and guides you back into the shelter of the palace. No choice but to thrive. No choice but to succeed.

“I hear you’ve been making a Healer out of your knight as well.”

“Well, I had to get him into your good graces somehow,” you laugh, but sober up at once. “He was a very attentive student, picked up things so quickly. He’ll make a fine gardening companion.”

“That he did.” Father herds you into his greenroom so you may start drying herbs. “You can make the sanctum bloom together someday, perhaps even the Sphere, restore it to its bygone glory. Wouldn’t that be pleasant?”

You take up a seat in front of the dark wooden counter and place your basket on the tabletop. “So very pleasant.” Perhaps the both of you can make more than a garden bloom, in time. Come what may, through light and dark, it will be pleasant to have Eren by your side. It won’t be so bad, to walk in darkness with him. You can bear the darkness with him.

---

Across the sea, the sail is growing with every passing minute. Up above, the skies are growing grayer still. The wind, already brisk, forever brisk by the seashore, blows ever more fiercely.

“My lady!” Troian calls from his post by the dunes. “We should go back! The sky will break any moment!”

The ship is so close, yet so far away from the safety of your port. You must see its journey through. “It’s all right, I want to stay. Just a bit longer.”

“You’ll catch a chill if you get soaked!”

It is astonishing how irritating an otherwise heartwarming sentiment can be. “We brought drying sheets this time, didn’t we? And you are well-equipped with that rainshade of yours. We go when I say we go, and not before.”

That brings the galling bleating to an end. “...my lady. Of course, my lady, I meant no offense. Was only doing my duty, beg pardon.”

Guilt makes the frost within melt some. “Pardon granted, no offense was taken. You are only doing your duty, as you said.”

The trepidation vanishes from your sworn sword’s voice. “My thanks, my lady. You need only call whenever you’re ready.”

“Of course.” The blustering wind and the crashing waves are the only sounds to be heard for some time after.

Irritating and galling he may be at times, yet it cannot be said that Troian is a man wanting for duty. And loyalty. And so the tail becomes the shield. Father had chosen your shield well, for all its worth.

“It’s about time you have a shield of your own, my lady, the Liege of Vascalin must always be well-protected,” Lord Alexander had said, a couple of days before he left. “And I know just the man you’ll be needing.” At least he had not needed to look far for the paragon. Childish grievances aside, you cannot have asked for a better shield than Troian. Better him than some cold, aloof sword you cannot talk to; you do not think you can stand another Yelena serving you in close quarters.

A beam of light cuts a trail of white across the pewter skies toward the horizon, from the sea lamp by the docks. Having it lit had been one of your first major commands as ruling Lady. The Lodge you have had opened as well to welcome this galleas to port. A stray ship is an uncommon sight during these times and poses no small amount of risk - were they pirates - but the sail is enough to give them the benefit of the doubt.

Black it is, with the distinctive sleek lines and geometric shapes so favored by the Gleaming Islanders, picked out in silver thread. Perhaps this is the vessel of the new Kayigar ambassador, Prior Ilya had told you, they had been due to arrive some weeks ago but had yet to put in an appearance. Most like they were caught in some storm and are lost, or worse, floating down to rest at the bottom of the sea; you have all but given them up as a lost cause. It is a relief, unexpected but a relief nevertheless, to see those sails appear on the horizon. It will be wise to open the port to receive this one, you all agree. And were they pirates masquerading as ones harmless, the garrison will be more than enough to throw them back to the depths.

Were they the genuine article, though… You roll the green tear around your palm, feeling the slightly pitted but otherwise smooth finish of the glass rubbing against your skin. It will seem the Lady Rhyzkova has guests to entertain. 

An eel slithers quick inside your stomach. Drumming your fingers against it brings it to heel. For the moment.

It is not a hard thing, to entertain guests. There are harder duties to be had than greeting foreign dignitaries. You are equal to the task. You must be equal to the task. You will not shame Father so.

He had left not five days past to answer the royal summons to court. At once, you were apprehensive. This is a first, a very concerning first. The Month of Resting has barely dawned yet already there are summons. Only for the Conclave, Father told you, as though that would reassure you (it does not). He had chosen not to bring the family along, citing your rest and well-being as his priority, he will have you enjoy what time you have away from the bedlam of court for as long as you can.

“Vascalin is yours, my lady,” he said during your leave-taking in the palace courtyard, looking down at you from his gray destrier huge as he was, before calling the march. And so the torch was passed.

You have gone to great lengths not to drop it. Now you find yourself juggling duty and anxiety, wondering what has happened that is so urgent that the king must needs summon his advisors to court a month early.

The Northern Matter, it must be the Northern Matter, nothing else in recent memory has plagued the realm as much as it has. The northern lords must have called their banners and are threatening war.

A cold drop of water splashes onto your forehead. From the sky, not the sea, you note, even through your distraction. You are by the surfline when next you register your surroundings. Seafoam brushes the tips of your toes, cool as ice. The sail has grown even larger.

No, that can’t be right, nothing is confirmed, there is no need to get ahead of yourself. To jump to conclusions so easily ill becomes a ruler. There is no war as yet, not until there is solid, hard evidence of the fact.

But why else would the king call the Conclave? He won’t summon them all just for anything, not for a matter that can keep until the court returns to session. And jumping to conclusions is not all bad - it is prematurely acting on them that ruins many a good liege. You are well within your rights to assume, and consider all your options for all the possibilities open to you. As Father will do.

Eren calls your name from further down the coast. He comes to you at half a walk and half a jog. “Let’s go back, the sky’s about to come down.” 

Come down it does no sooner have the words left his mouth. You shiver as the heavy drops patter against your skin like water made rock - not quite hail but close enough. Yet you make no move to return to your shield and the shelter of his rainshade. You simply watch as Eren draws closer, sodden and tousled.

The both of you had spoken of this political development in great detail the past few days. While he offered interesting insight, and no small amount of comfort, you cannot help but wish he is a bit more politically minded. Eren the Statesman is there, you can sense him, yet he lacks practice and experience in the realm of civic intrigues. While you can coax him further down that road, it will take time. You do not have time, you can’t wait for the reassurance - born of practical, pragmatic, and realistic thinking - that you need at present, much as you would love to receive it from him.

You had written Armin at once, this practical, pragmatic, and realistic friend of yours, and told him all. Well, not all. It is all well and good to speak of the Northern Matter - everyone and their mothers know of it by now. Not everyone is privy to the Conclave’s business, however. If news of their dealings are to be common knowledge, it will not come from you.

Armin had shared your concerns of further conflict yet, ultimately, you can do nothing but wait, wait and see how the tapestry will unfold, and react accordingly. That was his most practical, pragmatic, and realistic answer.

Wait. It seems that you must wait after all. The practical, pragmatic, and realistic answer, it transpired, did little to reassure you.

Eren is before you at last, soaked to the skin as you are. His dark hair is plastered to his head, fringe half-obscuring his eyes. “Look at you, you’re soaked! Why didn’t you run to Troian and his rainshade?” He stares down at you, equal parts fond and exasperated. You stare up at him, silent, merely observing. Half-obscured they may be but still you can see his eyes. They seem more gray than green, today. Gray as the skies above. Gray as the seas below. Such a drab color, you have always thought, yet in him, it isn’t so.

Slowly, the exasperation vanishes the longer he beholds you, until all there is left is soft fondness. He raises a hand and lightly presses his knuckles onto your forehead. “My lady’s in her head again,” he says, mild and quiet, before looking out to sea.

The ship is close to port, close enough for you to see each hoary line and stripe and bar that crisscross the ebon sail. It slips past the distant rocky bluffs soon after, and at last, you know they are safe.

“You’ll do fine, love.” You start as a rough and gentle hand cups your face to turn you away from the distance. “Come what may, the Lady of Vascalin will do what needs to be done. And she will do it well and perfectly.”

Thump, thump, thump.

What have you been thinking, looking to others for comfort? There he is, standing before you, as he has been all this time, saying the right things, as he has always done. What would statesmen know of giving comfort, true and honest, anyway? Eren as he is is enough. You need nothing else.

Rough and gentle fingers stroke your face, his calloused skin warm, warmer than it ought to be in this chill rain. You watch him, silent, so silent, hardly daring to breathe as he begins his tentative study of you. Rough and gentle fingers trace down your cheek, your chin. Your breath hitches in your throat as his thumb brushes the bottom of your lip, the touch light and so very faint, a wisp of a touch, hardly substantial.

More. Touch me more. I need more.

But he is moving on, lower, to your neck. What disappointment that rose within you vanishes as you feel his fingers curl about your neck, feel his thumb press against the hollow of your throat above your black pearl pendant, firm, firm as he had not been with your lips. Your heart lodges itself into your throat. You wonder if he can feel it beating, hammering, pounding beneath his hold.

It feathers across your collarbone, his thumb, in another mild caress. Watching him is the most fascinating thing. For he is as lost in you as you are in him. He runs his hand down your sodden skin as though entranced, caught in a spell of your own making. He seems detached, somehow, yet attentive at the same time as he drags his fingertips lower, lower, until they are stroking the soft swell of the tops of your breasts, partly bared by your red deep-necked vevda. The shiver that courses through you has nothing to do with rain’s chill.

Everything fades and ceases to be. The sea, the rain, the cold, they are as nothing. There is only Eren and his fingers, rough and gentle and sensual as they run down your chest, tracing the curves, sliding below the soft flesh to stroke the skin beneath.

The breath leaves your lungs entirely as he slips past the edge of your dipping neckline, stroking, caressing, feathering over the swell of your breast. The clinging fabric limits his movements and keeps his fingers firm against your flesh as he inches closer and yet closer to your nipple.

Thump, thump, thump.

Your soft intake of breath makes him stop. His eyes seek yours and hold fast, searching. Whatever he sees there makes him retreat, the heat of his fingers parting from your breast. Relief and regret contend within; you do not know which of them you want to win out.

He does not part from you entirely, that much brings you relief. His path continues down your front, across your stomach, until he comes to rest at last at your hip. His fingers curl about you and pull you close.

“We should go. We might catch a chill,” he says, in a voice so deep it sets shivers running through your body once more. But he makes no move to steer you away.

Which is just as well. The rain feels as warm and fresh as a spring shower. You aren't so cold, not anymore. What shivers wrack your frame come not from the weather. “I don’t feel cold.”

The eyes that stare down at you are so very black, those eyes that were once green. Green as the sea glass you had found earlier in the sand. Mermaid’s tears, they call them, and they come in all shades of dazzling colors. Luck brought you one to make a match for your betrothed.

Heaven’s tears cascade upon you in sheets devoid of any one particular hue. You watch as it soaks your betrothed’s face, droplets without count running down his fine features, threading through his hair and dripping, on his cheeks, his nose, his mouth.

A tear, jewel-bright, catches against his bottom lip, making the most mesmerizing sight. Your hands are moving before you quite know it. You pocket the sea’s jewel and raise your hand to give him your touch as well.

The tear slides down your forefinger to mix with the tears upon your skin. His breath is warm, his lips soft. You watch those lips purse and move to kiss your finger, slow and lingering.

You have always loved the way his eyes change color. From green, to blue, to gray, they are ever the colors of the sea. They are black now, black as the sea at midnight, filled with want and so much desire. It is with concerted effort that you draw yourself out of those depths. To drown in him will be the sweetest death yet you have a journey of your own to complete.

Your path continues past his lips, down his chin, to the hollow of his throat - the apple nestled within bobs a little as you pass, scraping your fingernail lightly against the prominence. You trace the crease of his strong chest, made visible by his vee-necked tunic, and lay a hand atop his heart.

Thump, thump, thump.

His cream tunic is near transparent now, the cloth clinging to every ridge and hard crest of his muscled torso and stressing the beauty of him. He is so warm, impossibly so, so very hale, and strong, and alive. Beneath your hand, his heart beats fast, drumming yet steady.

Black eyes draw you in once more, and this time you cannot look away. You are falling, drowning, lost in him. The lips that you had touched, so soft, so yielding, have parted. You can feel him down every inch of your body, he has pressed you up against him, his arms tight about your hips, your waist. His mouth is yielding yet the rest of him is not, you cannot break away even if you want to. And you do not. You do not, not when he is this close, and getting closer still, leaning down…

“My lady! Sir!”

The rain is icy cold again, and the wind is loud in your ears. So is your betrothed’s growl as he snaps his head up to look at the approaching guard. You swallow, your hand fisting against Eren’s shirt, and make to push away from him, despite yourself. The sane and rational within know he will not harm you (never, never), yet the deep and primal in you want to distance yourself from that terrifying visage of animal rage. If looks could kill… But he is iron and immovable, and so you have no choice but to remain within his embrace.

Eren’s mouth has closed and thinned in utter displeasure. “Fucking bloody bugger…” He squeezes your waist and sighs, the fight going out of him with the gesture. “Am I only allowed to kiss you in front of our wedding guests?” he grumbles, sounding so woebegone that your heart goes out to him even as you giggle.

You pat him gently on the chest. “Patience, love. You’ll have your taste soon or late.”

He gleams down at you, smirking a little. “I’ve never been known for my patience, love. I’ll have that taste, sooner rather than later.” He takes your hand from his chest and presses a kiss on the palm. A shock of heat spreads from your hand to the rest of you as you feel his tongue drag across your skin, wet and warm as the rain isn’t. “Sweet,” he murmurs, eyes smoldering up at you, then closes your hand around his kiss and frees you at last from his hold.

Troian comes up to you that very moment, holding the big crimson rainshade aloft and brandishing drying sheets, which you take graciously enough (Eren keeps his temper, at least, you are thankful for that much). You leave for home when you are as dry as you are like to get (which isn’t very dry at all).

The dunes are a trial to traverse with all this rain yet somehow you manage. This is where you had had your first kiss, you recall suddenly. It was yet another one of your customary trips to the beach. Mother was so occupied with the twins and the new babe, Darya, that it had been no difficult feat to stray away from your roost.

Roman had been with you, as he often was those days, being Father’s ward. What began as a simple stroll to collect shells somehow ended up becoming a game of Hawk and Chicken. It had been such a merry chase, made all the more merrier when you caught the chicken at last. Before either hawk or chicken knew it, though, they were tumbling down the dunes, you had been so enthusiastic in your role of raptor. When the world stopped spinning at last, you found that you had landed on the chicken with your mouth pressed firmly to his.

The days afterward had been nothing short of awkward yet the seeds of curiosity had taken root. You had not been able to take your mind off the kiss and the feel of a boy’s mouth on yours, so you had sought Roman out and kissed him again to see if you truly liked it some. You liked it more than some, it transpired, and so did he. The days of stolen kisses began not long after.

That is a tale you have yet to divulge to your jealous knight - you do not want Roman’s inevitable mauling to be on your conscience.

You have been writing each other as is your wont during the reprieve, as Eren will write Armin. That, too, you have not divulged, but Eren has never been interested in who you are corresponding with besides Armin; useless to give answers when no questions are asked. The Lady Meledina is getting worse, you learn from her worried yet resigned son, it is only a matter of time ‘til he ascends the Masquer’s Seat. That is the most dismal letter you have received this season.

You smile despite the gray turn of your thoughts as Eren drops his drying sheet over your head in a fit of gallantry and waves away your concerns about his well-being (what if he gets sick? He is too fit for that, apparently). The hand that holds his kiss, and a corner of your drying sheet, still burns. You flex the fingers within the damp linen. Yet another secret, stolen kiss. It seems that you are meant for stolen kisses.

Not for long. The thought buoys your steps onward and upward. You will have all the kisses you can possibly want, in full view of everyone. They cannot begrudge a young wife her husband’s kisses, after all.

Perhaps it isn’t so bad a thing, to miss that kiss. Another first had happened here, another memory is attached here, that of another kiss with another boy. You’ll have your kiss in a place all your own, a place free of another first, another memory, another boy. A place where you can have your own first and new memories with the one whom your soul…

“Oh, gods be damned.” Eren is tugging you hurriedly onward, away from the dunes as fast as he can while impatiently waving Troian over, urging him to pick up the pace so he can keep you shielded from the driving rain.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, worried and stumbling along in your knight’s trail. Should’ve worn a shorter vevda, you think for the hundredth time as you fight not to trip over your lengthy skirt. You did not come to the beach to go wading, yet you did not anticipate having to make a mad dash for home.

“Nasty buggers nearby.”

A bloom of them has manifested not too far from the dunes, sure enough, spectral sea jellies with huge pearly white caps and long deadly stingers, floating aimlessly across the sands. “They’re only deadly when crossed, and I have no intentions of doing so, I promise you,” you tell Eren. “There’s no need to rush, surely.”

He grunts non-committally, yet does not slow.

“Just how badly did it go for you the last time you ran afoul of the nasty buggers?” you query, remembering his words from the lakeside of Shimmerwood, weeks and weeks and weeks ago now. It is not something to laugh at, you know, yet you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips.

“Always wondered why Armin didn’t tell you that, it was the most entertaining thing. He couldn’t stop laughing at the time, anyway.” His face pinks such a pretty shade made more conspicuous by the gray dullness of the world. “You’ll have the tale from me… someday.”

“I can always write or ask him myself, you know.”

“Argh, my lady, just-” He sighs, shoulders slumping in defeat. The quick succession of expressions flitting across his face is most amusing. “It’ll be better coming from me,” he says at last, resigned. “I’ll tell you. Tonight. I’ll be your dinnertime amusement.”

You giggle and hold on to him the tighter. “On your word as a knight?”

“On my word as a knight.” Behind his exasperated resignation is no small amount of mirth.

The rain seems to be letting up some, you notice as you approach the sea gate. The guards salute you and inform you that the Kayigar ship has just docked; the customs officer is, as of this very moment, determining its legitimacy as a true diplomatic ship.

Duty and reality set in once more, yet they are not so frightening, not this time. You feel Eren’s hand squeeze yours and your soul sings. You are equal to the task, there never was any doubt about that.

---

Footsteps echo through the chamber as the steward and your guests climb the steps to the audience hall. But for that, the place is silent.

Not so, you realize. Drums are pounding in the deep, thrashing, booming loud in your ears, boom, doom, boom, doom, yet somehow, no one seems to give it any heed. It is a long while before the dawn breaks. What drums there are in the hall come from inside your chest. Still, the silence is so complete it is a wonder to you that no one can hear your private symphony.

Boom, doom, boom, doom.

Your bejeweled fingers grip the wreath of welcome on your lap, your only anchor, the only thing close at hand to keep you steady. Your true anchor is off to the side of the chamber with the rest of your little court. For the thousandth time, you wish he is up here with you. Only consorts have the right to stand on the dais with their ruling spouses, however, and it will be some time still ‘til that happy day of nuptial bliss. You must needs face your guests alone.

You suppress a sigh, clutch at the wreath just that bit tighter, and allow your eyes to flicker over to your betrothed. Not once did you feel his gaze leave you, and for that you are grateful. He has a blazing look on his face, hard almost, and filled with pride, so much pride that you feel yourself become emboldened as though you have imbibed the most potent of tonics. No tonic would be as revitalizing as that gaze, though, that you know without a doubt.

It seems such a ludicrous thing now, your trepidation. They are only guests, and no one to fear. You are equal to this task.

“My lady.” Paul Kolas the steward strides to the foot of the Golden Chair’s high dais, his usually thin voice coming loud and strong. “The High Marked and High Honorable Ambassador of the Gleaming Isles of Kayigari, Onyankopon, son of Ata Panin, of the Shavelocks,” he announces in the Diplomats’ Tongue, stumbling a little at the foreign, unfamiliar name but otherwise delivering a perfect introduction.

The Lady of Vascalin smiles most graciously and stands from her seat. “Your Honor, my lords,” you begin, mirroring your steward and speaking in kind, “I give you welcome to fair Lovaya and her beloved daughter Vascalin. In the sight of gods and men, I offer you the hospitality of our halls.” You raise the wreath, and at once, a group of servants set forth to crown your most exalted guests and offer them fare - slices of lamb and wine - to strengthen their rights to krajü.

Each man of the delegation has his head shaved clean, as only those of the black-skinned clan of Shavelocks could be. Of the seven Kayigar clans, the Shavelocks are deemed the least opulent, the simplest of the Islanders. Compared to their brethren of Goldveins and Proudmarks and all the rest of them, they eschew finery; His Honor, Onyankopon, in his robes of black and silver satin, is the very picture of quiet elegance.

“My most gracious lady, I thank you kindly for this warmest of welcomes.” His Honor dips into a deep bow and rises, smiling, his voice smooth and made more liquid by the refined inflections of the tongue of diplomacy. “We were led to believe that we would be received by Vascalin’s illustrious lord but here I see the most beautiful of women come to honor us with her beloved presence instead. Manu be praised, I did not think to bathe in the Light of the South’s radiance so soon.”

You laugh, soft and mannerly. “I thank you kindly for those loveliest of words, Your Honor. You are a credit to your trade, indeed. My lord father has received a most urgent summons, one that he must needs answer, and so he left me to rule in his stead.” Once the initial pleasantries have been spent, you go on, “We are most glad to see you well and whole, my lords. I must confess, we were most worried. The autumn storms are not known for their mercy.”

“Manu has blessed our voyage, and blessed us with the most excellent captain.” Onyankopon ushers forward a green-robed man, who bows and smiles, proud and humble both.

“A more blessed lot I have never seen.” You gesture at Paul, who strides forward at once. “You are weary, I know, from such a hard and dangerous voyage. A suite of chambers awaits you in the guest wing, where you can rest and recuperate at last. I took the liberty of having a feast prepared. They are taxing things, especially after a strenuous journey, but I hope you will honor us with your presence at table tonight.”

“Of course, my lady, we look forward to doing your excellent Lovayan fare justice.”

That is not half-bad, you think as you watch Paul escort your guests to their chambers, exulting and allowing yourself to feel some measure of pride. By the steps of the high dais stands Eren, gazing up at you with the same proud, hard, blazing look on his face that he beheld you with earlier.

You descend to meet him with a smile more genuine than any you had yet made during the audience.

That was not half-bad at all.

---

“My lady.”

You glance toward the drawn red velvet hangings of your bedchamber, surprised to hear Troian’s muffled call. Yelena is standing in front of you, fastening your sheer emerald-studded podonza to your left shoulder with a brooch of emerald, round-cut and ornamented with silver wings.

“What is it?” you answer, as Yelena finishes and steps away with a bow.

“Sir Eren’s calling. Should I send him in?”

“Ah, yes, please.” The sheer strength of your joy at the prospect of seeing your dear knight once more would have surprised you, once. Not at present, never again.

“I have come to worship at the shrine of beauty,” Eren declares, bowing an exceedingly low bow when you emerge from your bedroom.

“Oh, hush, you,” you giggle, dismissing Yelena and watching her cross the privy chamber to take her leave. Troian is standing by the entry hall a respectable distance away, keeping a close watch. 

“You didn’t change,” you note, eyeing your betrothed’s ensemble, the very same he had worn for the ambassador’s audience: a gold-trimmed vevda of red-violet with sleeves that fall to his elbows, paired with a podonza of gold brocade, fastened to his left shoulder by a square-cut tourmaline brooch. The wreath that circles his dark head is plain gold. He looks very much a prince tonight, you think, dreamily.

He snorts at your words in the most un-prince-like manner. But you won’t have him any other way. “I didn’t run a cavalry charge, did I? Didn’t make a mess of myself all day, I promise you, my lady. These threads still serve.”

You lean in close and take a whiff of him. Wood, the faint scent of laundry soap and sweat, Eren. All good scents. “Still smell nice, at least.”

He smiles and looks about the room. His expression softens. “You put them up already.” He walks to a framed bunch of moon violets on the wall opposite and examines them, running a hand down the gilt mounting, lost in memory.

You move to stand next to him, sharing in his thoughts. “I can never thank you enough for these.”

“You are most welcome, my lady. You deserve every single one. The land’s beauties for the land’s beauty.”

“Perhaps you should hang up your sword and take up a pen instead. Are you sure you’re not a poet?” You laugh as he pinches your side.

“Truth, love, no poetry.” His head swings slowly about as he searches each frame. “I know that was a long time ago and we weren’t exactly… partial to each other then, but did you keep-”

“They’re in there,” you nod to your bedchamber.

Something flashes across his face, something more than memory. “I haven’t told you, have I? Zeke was the one who told me to get you flowers. Most useful bit of advice I’ve ever gotten from him,” he says with the immediate disrespect of a younger brother. You shake your head at him, cheeks hurting from smiling so much. “I wasn’t too enthusiastic about the idea,” he shoots you a contrite look, which you pardon, waving him on, “but I saw the sense of that. Girls like flowers, don’t they? Took a quick look at the gardens, but all the flowers in bloom seemed… boring? Inadequate? Not enough? Only the winter roses stood out to me. They’re supposed to be a winter bloom but they were still there in the spring, living, fighting on until the very last cold snap.”

Still so very Eren, even with his choice of flowers. His account warms you to the very core. He put thought into his offering, though he knew you not, though he liked you not. Most boys would make do. But not him. Thank the gods I did not neglect his gift. His first gift. You suppose you have much to thank your future brother by marriage for. “Your brother’s rather romantic for someone who hates his wife.”

“I would never.”

Eren sounds a deal more serious, then, graver. You blink up at him, puzzled. “Never what?”

“Hate you. Not like he does Elva. I could never.” He turns so he can face you properly. At once, your heart begins to drum.

Thump, thump, thump.

“You are so very beautiful, my lady,” he murmurs and brings up a hand to run long, slender fingers through a loose curl, escaped from your bun. “My Lady of Rhyzkov is a woman of emerald tonight.” His eyes alight on the emerald rose that holds your tresses in place, before running slowly down your body in its opulent trappings of silver and emerald satin.

You feel that stare as if he had run his hands all over you. He almost had, that selfsame day. When he takes up a hand to kiss, you feel his mouth on your lips, your neck, your breasts. 

Desire rises hot in you once more. Your bed is so close, you realize, it will be so easy to draw him in, lead him past those velvet curtains and let your lust take hold at last. Again, and again, and yet again. After all, that is what the marriage bed is for. Our marriage bed. The insight brings another shock of heat through you. You will never look at your kip the same way ever again.

“May I have the honor of leading you in tonight?” Winter sets in when he withdraws and offers you his arm. The temptation to let them all bugger themselves and eat without you and your betrothed is a strong one, yet duty’s voice is stronger still.

You sigh and take his arm. “Of course, good Sir. Back to the slog of pleasantries and politics we go.”

“You did wonderfully, love, didn’t I say? It was a good start. And a good start will lead to a good path.”

You certainly hope so.

As the feast proceeds underway, with your Eren on your left and His Honor to your right in the place of high honor, you can see the truth of your knight’s words. Everything goes smooth as glass. It isn’t a bad start at all, you feel. Not half-bad at all.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

---

A/N:

Duty, duty, duty. It starts for the little lady. What *is* going on in the court?

Eren hangs out with the future father-in-law (he's not so bad, heh) and reminded of his duties to you, anxiety sets in as duty starts to make itself known, and we start to see how YN will be as a lady ruling in her own right. So far, so good.

And things get that much hotter between the young lovers-not-lovers. Yet another kiss foiled, they really should stop taking it slow, yeah? And I would so love to see them kiss in the rain, nothing is more romantic...

Til next update!

Tagging: @princess-okkotsu @lukepattersin @tojis-discord-kitten @camilo-uwu

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

day 21: late-night astronomy

pair: Newt Scamander x reader

summary: Newt’s gentle and introspective nature would suit a quiet, stargazing moment with y/n(she/her)

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The chill of the evening air clung to the stone walls of Hogwarts as you and Newt climbed the steps to the Astronomy Tower. Your breath puffed in small clouds, and Newt’s soft voice filled the silence between you, his gentle words always soothing.

“I’ve always found the night sky fascinating,” he murmured, eyes glancing up at the stars as you both reached the top. “So many creatures thrive in the dark. It’s their world, you know? A world full of life, even when everything seems so still.”

You smiled, watching him as he spoke with that familiar, quiet passion. His love for all things magical and wild always drew you in. Tonight, however, it wasn’t creatures or plants that captured your attention, but the twinkling stars above.

Laying a blanket down on the cool stone, Newt gestured for you to join him. You settled beside him, close enough that your shoulders brushed, the warmth of his body easing the bite of the night air.

The sky stretched out endlessly above you, and Newt pointed out constellations, his voice soft, like the gentle rustling of leaves. “There’s Orion… and over there, that’s Canis Major. Magical creatures have been linked to the stars for centuries. Even the centaurs believe the stars hold prophecies.”

You turned to face him, the glow of the moon catching in his soft brown eyes. His face was calm, but there was an underlying intensity, the kind that only appeared when he was fully immersed in something he loved. The night, the stars, the quiet—this was Newt’s element.

“It’s peaceful here,” you whispered, letting your hand drift to rest beside his. His fingers, always so steady when handling creatures, hesitated for a moment before gently brushing against yours. The smallest of touches, but it sent warmth through you.

Newt glanced down, his usual shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “It is, isn’t it? I think… I think I rather like sharing this moment with you.”

The stars twinkled overhead, but all you could focus on was the steady rise and fall of his breath beside you, the unspoken bond growing between you in the silence. Beneath the vast, infinite sky, it felt like it was just the two of you—small, but not alone.

[taylor9736]

The way you make me feel

Fandom: The Maze Runner

Newt x fem!reader

The Glade was alive with the hum of its daily rhythm: tools clinking, runners darting to and from the Maze, and the faint aroma of Frypan’s stew wafting from the kitchen. But Newt couldn’t focus on any of it. His attention was glued to Y/N, who stood by the gardens, sleeves rolled up and dirt smudged across her cheek.

“Oi, Newt!” Minho’s voice snapped him out of his trance. “You planning to help or just stare at her all day?”

Newt’s face turned a deep crimson as he shoved Minho playfully. “Shut it, shank.”

But Minho wasn’t wrong. Y/N had a way of capturing Newt’s attention without even trying. She was fearless, kind, and the only person who could make him forget about the Maze's dangers for a while.

As if sensing his gaze, Y/N turned, a soft smile gracing her lips. “You’re just going to stand there, or are you going to help me with these weeds?”

Newt cleared his throat, trying to play it cool. “Thought you had it covered.”

Y/N arched an eyebrow. “Not if you keep distracting me.”

Minho laughed from a distance, clearly enjoying Newt’s flustered state.

---

Later that evening, the Gladers gathered around the fire for their usual storytelling session. Y/N sat beside Newt, the warmth of the flames making her cheeks glow.

“Alright, lovebirds,” teased Gally, a mischievous grin on his face. “How about a story from you two?”

“We’re not—” Newt began, but Y/N cut him off with a playful nudge.

“Fine. Once upon a time, there was a boy who couldn’t stop blushing around a girl,” Y/N said, shooting a cheeky glance at Newt.

Newt groaned, burying his face in his hands as the Gladers erupted in laughter.

---

Later that night, after the others had gone to sleep, Newt and Y/N found themselves sitting on the Homestead steps.

“You really enjoy embarrassing me, don’t you?” Newt asked, though there was no real annoyance in his voice.

“Maybe,” Y/N said with a soft laugh. “But I think it’s sweet.”

Newt looked at her, his usual confidence replaced with a rare vulnerability. “You think I’m sweet?”

Y/N reached out, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “I do. And for the record, I think you’re pretty incredible, too.”

Newt’s heart raced, and for the first time, he didn’t try to hide the blush creeping up his neck. “Well, you make me feel that way.”

And under the stars, amidst the chaos of the Glade, Newt finally realized that maybe—just maybe—things weren’t so bad as long as Y/N was by his side.