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edenesth · 6 months

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The Way to His Heart [20]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 5k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 19 | Fic Masterlist | Spinoff Masterlist

San bowed his head as he absorbed the Queen's narration of the fourth prince's attempt to steal the general's wife during his absence at war, fearing the wrath of His Majesty and reeling from his own shock. Had he been aware of Prince Yeosang's plans beforehand, the royal secretary might have prevented you from attending the supposed birthday banquet in the first place.

The entire palace staff in the grand hall was startled as the King slammed his hand against the armrest of his throne, "The fourth prince did what?! This is outrageous! I've warned you countless times about spoiling him too much, my Queen."

Rubbing his temples, His Majesty shook his head and let out a heavy sigh, "We'll deal with him later. For now, confine him to his private chambers. He's only allowed in the royal library for his studies. The last thing we need is for him to unexpectedly show up at General Park's wedding and cause chaos."

Lowering her head, Her Majesty conceded, "Yes, Your Majesty. It's my responsibility. I know I should have been firmer with him."

"We're fortunate Lady Park handled the situation gracefully. I can see why Seonghwa is so enamoured with her," The King remarked with a slight smile before addressing San, "Secretary Choi, ensure that all funding for Prince Yeosang is withheld until further notice. Given his rebellious nature, he would likely find a way to disobey orders. Without financial resources, let's see what he can attempt."

As the Queen's lips parted to plead for leniency, His Majesty silenced her with a stern glare, leaving no room for argument. The weight of guilt settled heavily in her chest, a stark reminder of her own role in enabling the prince's behaviour. She couldn't deny that she simply wanted her fourth son to find happiness, but she knew deep down that her indulgence had contributed to his disobedient nature.

With a heavy heart, she reminded herself that this was not even the prince's harshest punishment yet. She could only imagine what further consequences awaited him at the hands of his father.

The royal secretary bowed in acknowledgement, "Yes, Your Majesty. Is there anything else you would like to add?"

The King straightened up, his demeanour shifting as he moved on from the matter concerning his son, "It would be great if you could visit the general's estate and inquire about his well-being on my behalf. Once he's feeling all better, arrange a meeting promptly so we can proceed with his wedding ceremony without delay."

With a final bow, San prepared to take his leave, but before he could depart, the ageing monarch extended a hand to stop him, "Wait, Secretary Choi! There is one last matter," His Majesty interjected, "Please extend my sincere apologies to General Park for my son's behaviour and express gratitude for his dedicated service to the nation. See to it that we cover all his medical expenses."

"Of course, my King."

The royal secretary stood before the entrance of his friend's estate the next day, feeling a slight hesitation before announcing himself. While His and Her Majesty bore some responsibility for the fourth prince's actions, San couldn't shake the feeling of personal responsibility. After all, he had been the one to prepare you for the supposed royal event, unknowingly sending you into the lion's den. He couldn't help but feel like a bad friend to Seonghwa, questioning whether he had done enough to protect the general's wife in his absence.

"I'm sorry to intrude on your moment of reflection, but how much longer do you plan to linger by the entrance, sir?" The private investigator's voice snapped San out of his trance, prompting him to blink rapidly as he recognised the familiar figure leaning against the main gate, eyeing him with curiosity.

Clearing his throat, San composed himself, "O-oh, hello! I, uh... I was just about to enter. It's nice to properly meet you, Investigator Jung. My name is—"

"Royal Secretary Choi San, I know. We're all aware, don't worry! It's an honour to be recognised by you, sir. Come on, you must be here to see General Park. Let me show you to him; Jongho's occupied at the moment," Wooyoung led the way, the secretary noting his talkative nature, "You won't believe what he's up to right now; he's such a peculiar kid. Takes dedication to a whole new level, I'll tell you that..."

At a certain point, San tuned out the rambling, focusing instead on mentally preparing himself to face you and your husband again. Would Seonghwa be displeased with him for not coming to his wife's rescue when she needed it the most? He wouldn't be surprised at all if the general were to be truly upset with him.

Before he could further overthink it, they arrived at the living hall where the couple was seated and engaged in conversation with the famous dressmaker Kim and skilled Physician Jung. Your husband looked up as if sensing his presence, beaming, "Ah, you're here, San! Come join us. We knew you'd be showing up sometime this week. I assume His Majesty has received my letter, yes?"

The secretary was taken aback, to say the least. First of all, he didn't think he deserved the warm welcome, and secondly, he had believed Seonghwa's injury to be severe, so seeing him looking almost back to his usual self shocked him. Though the older man appeared a bit paler than usual, San was primarily relieved to see his friend alive and well. Memories of the panic he had felt upon first receiving news of the general's poisoning flooded back to him.

Oh, thank god he's okay.

Greeting everyone in the hall with a polite bow, he cleared his throat, "You have no idea how relieved I am to see you alright, General Park. But before I deliver His Majesty's message, I feel compelled to offer my apologies to you and Lady Park."

Confusion creased your brow as you asked, "Whatever for, San?"

With a sigh, he admitted, "You're both too kind for your own good. I should have been more vigilant and prevented Lady Park from attending Prince Yeosang's birthday banquet in the first place. If only I had intervened, she wouldn't have gone through—"

You interjected with a gentle chuckle, "Please, don't blame yourself. You couldn't have known. If you had, I'm certain you would have acted to prevent it."

Seonghwa nodded in agreement, adding, "San, you're far too hard on yourself. You have nothing to be sorry for; you've been nothing but a great help to my wife. Now, please, take a seat and join us."

Amidst the comforting smiles around him, the secretary finally eased into his seat. Eunsook promptly served him tea and refreshments, signalling the start of their discussions. San's revelation caught everyone off guard since they had yet to receive word from Mingi: the war had ended, and Ruhon had surrendered. As they exchanged incredulous glances, a wave of relief washed over them, followed by cheers of joy. The general and his wife shared a meaningful gaze, hands clasped together as you exchanged soft smiles. San understood the significance of that moment—the two could finally proceed with the long-awaited wedding ceremony.

The worst is finally over.

Unable to contain his curiosity, San finally inquired about how the general had sustained his injury. Your husband recounted the harrowing experience, his friends visibly wincing as they imagined the scenario. Your heart ached as you listened. Sensing the tension, Yunho jumped in, reassuring everyone that the injury wasn't severe and that with proper rest, Seonghwa would be back to full health in a matter of weeks.

"That's a relief. Once you're feeling better, we'll arrange a meeting with Their Majesties to plan your wedding. That's the main reason His Majesty sent me here today, aside from checking on you," The hall buzzed with excitement, but the general sensed that the secretary had more to say, "Is there something else, San?"

Taking a deep breath, San continued, "The King also wants to extend his sincerest apologies for the fourth prince's actions. As part of his punishment, Prince Yeosang has been confined to his private chambers, and his funds have been frozen. His Majesty is concerned about him causing any disruptions at your wedding."

"Oh, good riddance!" While Hongjoong and Wooyoung clapped with Yunho silently judging them from his corner, you appeared unsettled by the news. Feeling your unease, your husband tightened his grip on your hand and asked, "What's wrong, my love?"

The news of the prince's fate left you with mixed emotions. You felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of him being barred from your wedding. Despite his actions, you couldn't deny that he was still a friend to you and a part of you felt sorry for the struggles he faced all his life due to his birthmark. Understanding the complexities of his situation, you empathised with his confusion and desperation that stemmed from his severe lack of experience with love.

With a small gulp, you turned to your husband, voicing, "Hwa, I... I think I'd still want His Highness at our wedding, if he wished to attend," Surprised looks crossed the faces of everyone in the hall. As you explained your reasoning, they began to understand your perspective. After a moment of contemplation, Seonghwa lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss onto the back of your palm with a reassuring smile, "Fair enough. If that's truly what you want, we'll discuss it with the King."

In keeping with his promise, you found yourself seated beside your husband as you faced His and Her Majesty for the first time a few weeks later, now that he was fully recovered. Sensing your nervousness about the meeting, the royal couple greeted you warmly, swiftly putting you at ease. After exchanging pleasantries, the general wasted no time in making his request.

"My King, we've heard about the punishment for the fourth prince," He began, "But my wife and I would like to request that you at least allow His Highness to attend our wedding if he wishes."

Confusion flickered across His Majesty's face, "You do? But why?" He inquired. The Seonghwa he once knew would have been furious and unforgiving. It seemed Lady Park had a positive influence on him.

Feeling it was only right for you to respond since it was your personal request, you gathered your thoughts before speaking.

"Your Majesty, I understand that Prince Yeosang's actions may seem outrageous from an outsider's perspective. However, I believe His Highness has endured a painful life, facing discrimination due to his birthmark. It's clear he mistook kindness for love, given his limited experiences. Despite his mistakes, he remains a dear friend to me. It would be meaningful to have him at our celebration, if he chooses to attend. I hope you can understand, Your Majesties. I apologise if I've spoken too much and am overstepping boundaries."

As your words sank in, a wave of introspection washed over the King. For the first time, he found himself reflecting on his relationship with Yeosang. Had he been too harsh on his son? Had he failed to understand the pain his son bore due to his birthmark? The King couldn't shake the feeling of guilt as he realised that he may have viewed his son more as a burden than a beloved child. Perhaps there were times when he had even considered the prince's refusal to marry as a personal affront.

The sudden realisation left the King feeling conflicted and remorseful. He wondered if he had been a horrible father, too absorbed in his duties as a monarch to truly understand his son's struggles. It was a sobering moment for him, realising that he may have overlooked his son's pain and loneliness. Was this why the Queen had been so persistent in advocating leniency towards Yeosang? Was she trying to make up for his shortcomings as a father? These questions weighed heavily on his mind as he grappled with his newfound awareness of his own failings.

His and Her Majesty exchanged a meaningful glance. Suddenly, they understood why the fourth prince would mistake his gratitude towards you for love. After all, you had shown him a kindness and compassion he had rarely experienced, even from his own family.

Beginning to feel anxious at the royal couple's silence, you awaited their response with bated breath, with Seonghwa ready to support you if needed. To your relief, they smiled warmly at you.

"Please don't apologise for that, Lady Park," They reassured you, "You're right; perhaps we've been too harsh on him all this while. If having him at your wedding is what you wish, we shall allow it."

"Thank you, Your Majesties."

The Queen sighed softly before adding, "But whether or not he wishes to attend is ultimately his decision. Let's hope he chooses to join us for your sake."

You nodded in understanding, "Of course, I completely understand."

As the preparations for your wedding ceremony unfolded, time seemed to pass in a blur. Traditionally, weddings entail two parts: the first at the bride's home, where the couple honours her ancestors and family, and the second at the groom's home for the same purpose. However, due to your circumstances, with no family home for you and Seonghwa having little connection to his parents or ancestors, your wedding would be simplified, taking place solely within the palace grounds, where the royal family would also be able to attend, given that most of them are not allowed to leave the place.

In no time, you found yourself comfortably seated in one of the palace chambers, which had been graciously lent to you for the day. Hongjoong immediately began working on perfecting your look, with Eunsook and a team of palace maids assisting him.

You couldn't help but marvel at the exquisite hanbok now adorning your figure. Unlike the traditional red hanbok worn by most brides, this one was a stunning combination of white and gold. It was a testament to the dressmaker's dedication to his friend's request to make you the most beautiful woman in all of Joseon.

Instead of the usual red flower, Hongjoong meticulously painted a gold flower on your forehead to complement your exquisite hanbok. You admired how perfectly it matched your outfit and the gold accessories adorning your hair. While part of you wondered if it was appropriate to outshine the royals, as the dressmaker had emphasised countless times, another part of you chose to revel in the admiration you would receive. You couldn't believe how far you'd come from being the scared girl who once endured disdainful glances and disrespect before marrying Seonghwa.

Reflecting on your journey, you felt grateful for the twists and turns that had brought you to this moment. Perhaps Jinjoo was right; you were quite thankful to your family for orchestrating your union with the general. Without them, you wouldn't be here, basking in the happiness you had finally found.

I guess we're even now, father.

Noticing your silence and distant gaze in the mirror's reflection, the dressmaker lightly nudged you on the shoulder, "Well? How do you like this look, my lady? Please don't tell me you're having second thoughts about standing out now. I've spent the past month working tirelessly on this hanbok—"

You giggled and offered a soft smile to your friend, "Don't worry, Hongjoong. It's perfection. For once, I think it's okay for me to outshine even the princesses. After all, it's my wedding ceremony, and I'll only be getting married once."

His grin widened proudly as he saw you slowly shedding your old self, no longer the timid girl he first met, "Damn right, it's perfection. I create only that and nothing less," He joked before turning serious, "Listen, I just want you to know how proud I am of you. Seonghwa's a dear friend to me, and I honestly would've thrown a bigger tantrum than he did if he had been arranged to marry some spoiled brat. You don't know how happy I am that you've found each other. But if that idiot does anything to upset you again, you better tell me."

You chuckled through your tears, your throat tightening at his heartfelt words, "You bet I will. Thank you, Hongjoong."

He panicked when he noticed your wet eyes, "Hey, hey, hey. Don't you dare start crying, woman. If you cry, I'll cry too. And trust me, that's not a good look for either of us. Plus, you can't ruin your makeup!"

His jest seemed to do the trick, eliciting another round of laughter from you. Fussing over you one last time, he noticed the palace staff at the entrance signalling it was time for you to be on standby. Gently grasping your shoulders, he beamed at you like a proud father, "Are you ready, Lady Park?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

With the nervous beat of your heart echoing in your ears, you were guided to the main hall, where the rituals would soon unfold, with Eunsook at your side. Hongjoong had departed after ensuring you looked flawless, joining the other wedding guests. As you reached the waiting area, where final checks would be made before your grand entrance and your first meeting with your husband today, your steps faltered.

While the head maid busied herself tidying your hair and smoothing the creases in your hanbok, you gulped, "Eunsook, t-tell me... this isn't a dream, is it?"

The elderly woman giggled, gently taking hold of your hands, "Are you still asking me that, mistress? Do you remember the first time you asked me that question?"

You nodded, reminiscing about the first time you had allowed the maids to bathe you after Seonghwa had discovered your scars. So much has changed since then. Though you weren't the same person you once were, a small part of you still harboured a fear that this all might be too good to be true. It felt like a long dream, and you couldn't shake the worry that you would one day wake up back in the hellhole you once called home.

Giving your hand a comforting squeeze, she smiled, "Well, I'm here to reassure you once more that this is all very real. Perhaps you fear losing the happiness you've found and you're not alone in that. Master feels the same way, so do all of us at the estate. We all fear losing the happiness that you've brought into our lives. I hope you haven't forgotten what I've said to you: you are our light and our hope. You're incredibly important to all of us. You still are, and always will be."

"She's right, you know?"

A familiar deep voice interrupted, startling both you and Eunsook as an unexpected figure appeared behind you. Surprised, you turned to find Prince Yeosang standing there, arms casually intertwined behind his back, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed your reaction.

"Y-Your Highness?" You stammered, half-expecting his absence.

He continued, "You should've seen General Park earlier as they got him dressed. All he cared about was how you were doing. I guess that's what you meant by true love, huh? I wish it were just a dream for me, but it's not. So, don't you worry, Lady Park, this is all very real. I didn't give up on you for you to doubt this reality. Please make my choice worth it and be happy, okay?"

Relief flooded through you, reassured by his acceptance of your new chapter, "I promise I will make it worth it. Thank you, my prince, for choosing to be here today and for your kind words." You replied, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

He grinned in response, "Of course, wouldn't miss my first and only friend's wedding for the world," With a playful wink, he gestured towards the palace staff entering to usher you out, "Now hurry and get out there, don't make him wait any longer."

At last, all is right in the world.

Returning his smile with gratitude, you took a deep breath before stepping forward. As you walked out, you felt a newfound readiness wash over you. You were prepared now; ready to formally be wedded to Park Seonghwa, not out of obligation, but out of pure love for him. You were ready to be the wife he needed, the shoulder he could lean on when the weight of his responsibilities grew heavy. You were ready to be his home, his refuge, ready to be everything to him, just as he was everything to you.

As Seonghwa stepped out from his side of the waiting area, his breath caught in his throat at the sight of you approaching from the opposite end. Each time he laid eyes on you, he thought you couldn't possibly become more beautiful, yet you continued to prove him wrong. Hongjoong had outdone himself once again; you looked more majestic than any royalty he had ever seen.

You stood out among the crowd, exuding grace and elegance in your one-of-a-kind hanbok. As you glided toward him, he felt overwhelmed by your beauty. But it wasn't just the general who was stunned; every guest at the ceremony had their jaws drop in awe at your ethereal appearance. Those seeing you for the first time now realised the whispers and rumours about your beauty were true. Truly, you looked like an angel descended from the heavens.

As the rituals unfolded, requiring you and Seonghwa to stand across from each other and perform a series of bows as instructed by the wedding officiator, each gesture symbolising a different aspect of your commitment to each other, you both remained focused on each other. Despite the lengthy and tedious proceedings, all you could see was one another as you patiently waited for it all to be over.

The guests cooed in anticipation as it was time for you and your husband to exchange a cup of wine, the act symbolising longevity and fertility. You blushed lightly as you heard Wooyoung among the crowd squealing, only to be smacked silent by Jongho and Yunho who stood by his side.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the seemingly endless rituals were concluded. You and the general bowed together a few more times: once to His and Her Majesty, once to the gods, and once to the guests. With that, the ceremony was complete, and you could finally bask in the joy of being officially united as husband and wife.

After the two of you expressed gratitude to the King and Queen for their assistance in making the wedding possible, the feast began. As neither you nor Seonghwa had any family present, you were naturally surrounded by your closest companions, the guys. Your husband took the opportunity to introduce you to the only friend of his whom you had yet to meet.

Grateful for his presence, you smiled warmly at the strategist, "Thank you for always looking out for my husband, Officer Song."

Mingi grinned bashfully, his cheeks tinged with a slight blush. He still seemed taken aback by your beauty, "Not at all, my lady. It's General Park who has been looking out for me all this while."

Seonghwa smirked knowingly, giving the taller man a playful nudge, "Thanks again for coming, man. A little birdie told me you've reunited with a special someone. Can we expect a wedding invite soon?"

The guys around the table teased with mischievous oohs as Mingi rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "I don't know, hyung-nim. I'm working on it. But let's not talk about me, it's your big day!"

Hongjoong, however, wasn't having it, "Oh, come on, don't you dare change the subject! We need details about this mysterious lady!" He insisted, eager for gossip. The other guys excitedly chimed in, urging the officer to spill the beans about the royal physician who had captured his attention for years.

Amidst their playful interrogation of Mingi, you glanced around the room, curious to see if the fourth prince was still present. Catching sight of him, you noticed he was discreetly making his way toward the exit. Sensing your gaze, he turned, meeting your eyes. He offered you a genuine smile and a final nod before vanishing from view.

May happiness find you, Your Highness.

The remainder of the ceremony proceeded seamlessly, thanks to the meticulous arrangements made by the palace staff. As night fell, you returned to Seonghwa's private chambers, where the two of you would share a meal and some drinks before... going to bed. Your heart pounded with nervousness, fully aware of the significance of the evening; you would both be expected to consummate your marriage tonight.

"My love, are you feeling alright?" You blinked rapidly, coming back to reality as your husband waved his hand in front of your face to grab your attention. You nodded quickly and resumed eating, trying to appear casual, "Y-yes, I'm fine, Hwa. Don't worry about me."

But the general was more perceptive than you realised. He could sense your unease, especially as the meal was drawing to a close. With a soft smile, he set down his wine glass and reached to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "Why do you bother lying to me, you silly girl? Did you think I would be disappointed in you?"

He knew he had guessed correctly when your chewing momentarily paused. Shifting his hand to cup your cheek, he gently guided you to meet his warm gaze, "What do you take me for, hm? We don't have to do anything tonight if you're not ready. I can wait, I'll wait for as long as you need," With a tender kiss on your forehead, he rose from his seat, "I'll get the maids to prepare the House of Lotus for you."

Feeling deeply touched by his understanding, you realised how foolish you had been to once fear the possibility of him hurting you. Truthfully, it wasn't that you didn't want to deepen your intimacy with him; rather, you were scared. He would be the first man to see all of you, every scar on your body, and you feared what he might think, feared letting him down. But his love for you reminded you of his kindness and brought you a newfound confidence.

Before he could leave, you panicked and reached for his wrist, stopping him in his tracks, "No, Hwa, please don't. I want to... I-I want to stay with you tonight."

Kneeling before you, he gently took your hands in his, "Are you sure, my love? You don't have to force yourself—"

You cut him off by pressing your lips firmly against his. He responded almost immediately, and you smiled at the small whine he let out as he chased after your lips when you pulled away. Whispering, you said, "I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I want to stay with you, Park Seonghwa. You're not getting rid of me tonight, or ever."

Unable to restrain himself any longer, he immediately captured your lips in a deep kiss, one passionate enough to leave you dizzy. With his guidance, you rose from your seat, your lips still connected, and he lifted you into his arms, carrying you bridal style towards his bed. Both your hearts raced as you broke the kiss to catch your breath, panting as he gently set you down.

Your breath caught as you leaned against the pillows behind you, trapped between his arms as before, reminiscent of the interrupted moment with Hongjoong. However, this time, it wasn't you who halted the moment. The general's gaze turned serious as he locked eyes with you, his voice low, "Last chance. We can still stop if you want to change your mind. Because if we go any further from here, I'm afraid I won't be able to hold myself back."

Cupping his face, you leaned in to kiss him softly, murmuring, "I love you, Hwa." If that wasn't enough to convey your feelings, you guided his hands to the ribbon securing the outer layer of your hanbok, silently granting him permission to undress you.

The first time he had aggressively torn your clothing was a mistake he regretted deeply. Now, he approached it with care, delicately untying the ribbon and holding his breath as he removed the garment, exposing your shoulders once more. The faint traces of your old scars were visible, but they didn't faze him. Tilting your chin up, he rested his forehead against yours and whispered, "You're so beautiful, my wife. I love you too."

Wrapping your arms around his neck, your eyes fluttered close as he kissed you again, banishing all previous worries from your mind. When he pulled away, his lips trailed down your neck until they reached your scars. Gently pushing some hair away from his face, you stroked his head affectionately, watching as he showered each mark with kisses. As his hand hovered over the ribbon securing the inner layer of your hanbok, he looked up at you one last time, knowing there would be no turning back from this moment onward.

"I'll be gentle, my love, I promise."

"I know, Hwa, I trust you."

That night, you and Seonghwa became lost in each other, the boundaries between you fading away as you become one for the first time. In each other's arms, you discovered a love deeper than you ever thought possible. You found yourself no longer able to picture your life without him at this point.

Reflecting on your journey together, you marvelled at how much he had changed since you first met. Back then, you could never have imagined that he would come to love you so deeply, nor could you have anticipated the depth of your own feelings for him. Now, as you lay intertwined with him in the quiet of the night, you knew that you had arrived at your destination. It had been a long journey, filled with obstacles and challenges, but in the end, you found it.

You had finally found the way to his heart.

Y'all, I hope this one didn't disappoint! The pressure of knowing this was the final part was so SO REAL. Maybe it's my insecurities kicking in, but I genuinely hope this meets expectations!😭

Also, I know the story is completed but I have good news! I've decided to do some fluff-filled bonus chapters because I'm well aware this is barely enough to make up for all the angst I've put y'all through HAHA if you're not on the tag list and would like to be tagged for any future bonus content, just leave a comment to let me know!

Whoo, it's been quite the roller coaster ride now, hasn't it? If you've made it this far, I sincerely hope you enjoyed the story! From the bottom of my heart, thank you all so much for reading and as always, please let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/3): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sansaurora9904 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rhwa @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @chngbnwf @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178 @appleschre @brielle-in-the-galaxy @laurenwidjaja @yangwonielvrs @n1k1mura @idkwgoh @loveateez @linosllvr

#edenesth #the way to this heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

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harmonysanreads · 6 months

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hello <3

wishing you freedom and happiness from academic hell before diving in. you opened requests so 👉👈

forgive me if this counts as idea stealing since you posted about it but yan! neuvillette with a darling who wants to file for divorce would be such a messy situation. court proceedings go to him now that the oratrice is no longer functioning. how do you expect to win against the law of the land?

filing divorce in a different land also isn't an option, because it is written in your marriage contract that you cannot leave fontaine without your husband and he sure as hell isn't going to come with you for something like this

oh well.

Jeux de Vagues

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Neuvillette x [ Gender Neutral ] Reader

Warnings: Yandere, Implications of forced marriage, Captivity, Slight dehumanization, Coercion, Fontaine archon quest act one spoilers, Old married couple bickering (literally)

「 words : 3k 」「 Trivia for Jeux de Vagues 」「 read on ao3 」

· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Hiii Zuri!! I have been brainrotting this fic since version 4.0 so thank you so much for just giving me the opportunity to unleash it lol. For plot reasons this takes place between act 1 and 2. I dedicate this fic to all the anons who brain-rotted with me and kept me motivated to think about neuvillette with their creative asks<3

“Husband, I wish for a divorce.”

In Spring, the snow of the bygone winter thaws and raises the tides. They twirl to the edges of the shores ; push and pull, back and forth, mesmerizing the nation of Hydro with their temptatious dance.

You wonder what it'd take to entice the waves to your direction, to have the power to make them rage and placate. When one desires to control something great, they see its reflection upon mundane things — just as you envision yourself dictating the tides upon cups of dainty porcelain, noon to evening and midnight to dawn — your spoon conducts its rhythm.

In Summer, the waters boil and vaporize upon the touch of sunlight to reach the heavens and complete the cycle. Just as wisps of steaming tea tantalize their way upwards from cups and tea pots. Beyond that translucent veil stares back a pair of watchful eyes, undecipherable are their emotions and primordial their age.

“The tides of time heed no one's orders or pleas. Very well, mon trésor, let us begin this trial.”

You're quick to catch the hint and slow to react, deliberate and relaxed as you bring the rim of the cup to your lips. The tea scathes your lips and paints your tongue bitter, bitter, bitter — a smile stretches across your tingling lips, deeming the liquid's taste adequate to your present temperament.

You are bitter, not because of the contents of this ‘trial’ but, due to the delay of it. You've been crossing days after days from heaps of calendars, preparing all your accusations and aligning evidence to back up your claims for this chance only comes once every fin de siècle.

“I heard your justice machine broke?” a ‘clang’ accompanies the tea cup meeting the saucer. You focus on the chirping of birds and the noises of crystal flies buzzing past instead of the possible damage done by your words.

You hear it, the swell of rising waves before they pacify with a purposeful cough. You don't let the event’s lamentable duration plunder your motivation, more precisely, you take it as a good start.

“Calling it broken is quite the stretch. You and I both know that the Oratrice Mechanique d’Analyse Cardinale—”

You swat a hand and the waves placate completely, sans any questions or any other brewing feelings. “I'm quite aware of what it's called, husband.” ‘I just could not care less’ goes unsaid.

You point your finger towards the Iudex of Fontaine, “You,” then return it back to yourself, “and I, both know the purpose of me bringing that incident up in our private trial.”

No amount of sensory loss would render someone ignorant of the mockery of your words. You bite the inside of your cheek in a lazy attempt to suppress a smirk, times like this really make you regret not having the privilege to face off against Neuvillette in the Court of this land ; you're quite sure your most recent stunt would earn you many bewildered gasps. If only the gates of your husband's manor crashed down, perhaps incapacitating him in the process for good measure.

“...Yes, we do. Your intention is to insinuate the impending prophecy and learn how we plan to prevent or battle it.”

Neuvillette's words resemble velvet in the manner they roll off his tongue, you catch his gaze drifting towards the chalice to his left, from where his reflection returns his stare. There are many tales passed among melusines of the equanimity practiced by your husband in even the most dire situations. But you have seen the depths of the ocean, where its secrets are forever concealed by an ever stretching darkness.

“Correct,” you affirm.

“Unfortunately, mon trésor, our investigations have not yet reached a decisive conclusion. While I can guarantee you that we'll do our utmost in the face of the prophecy, I cannot yet give you the specific details. Besides, this information is quite... arbitrary to our ‘trial’.”

The ocean returns your scrutiny, threatening to yank your breath away to that unknown darkness. You watch the ripples along its surface, wondering and devising plots to uproot the ocean's schemes from your safe space.

You want to tear through that ataraxia and illuminate those depths for all to see its hideous secrets — so that your claims will no longer be deemed senseless.

“Well, you could try acting the part of the Iudex first.” you exhibit great interest in your nails.

“Apologies, mon trésor. The trial is now in session.”

The most preposterous trial there ever was, in fact ; spectated by cups of tea and plates of desserts, overlooked by the jury of birds and bees under the naked skies and one stubborn ‘judge’ to lay down the final verdict — who was also the accused in question.

It'd be more fitting to call this some courtroom version of playing house and you wonder if Neuvillette sees it as exactly this ; since the notion of normal matrimonial life flies past his head.

You swallow your profound irritation at his nonchalance and that prickling soft gaze, the calm of the ocean surface is just a facade, you remind yourself.

“O honorable Chief Justice of Fontaine, riddle me of what I must do with my husband. He sees fit to cage me down while preaching justice simultaneously and allows me not to indulge in ‘rudimentary interactions’ with any other life forms. Do you not think that such hypocrisy is utterly ridiculous?”

Your hand cradles your heart, fully embracing the spirit of a mistreated spouse. Neuvillette regards it with an almost comical graveness, nodding as though he understands. Had it not been for the situation, you would've marveled at how willingly he's playing along with this fiasco.

A gloved hand stretches out to you in suggestion, “Perhaps it's because your husband just worries too much for your well-being?”

Your right eye twitches, “I’ve made it acutely obvious to him that I'm far from a toddler in need of constant supervision.”

The Iudex smiles succinctly, “I’m sure that he's not ignorant of that fact. But if, as you say, your husband guards you with such determination that you're not allowed to interact with any other forms of living organisms besides himself, it means that you hold great value to him.”

You cross your arms petulantly, it's not that you're forbidden from talking with everyone, many of Neuvillette's most trusted melusines do come to add flickers of color to your otherwise bleak existence sporadically.

You're grateful for their kindness and brief companionship but, this small leeway does not outweigh the rest of your husband's misdeeds. Your eyes flicker to the patient eyes of the man separated by one small oak table, barely suppressing a scowl at his serene composure.

You despise it when he acts like the raw image of propriety, of an ideal husband ; so withdrawn from the covetous creature that he actually is — because it poses you as a lunatic, a lunatic who demands separation from what the rest of society perceives as perfection and debilitates all of your claims.

The more you think about it, the more frustrated you get — you don't want to let frustration consume you, you don't want to lose this one opportunity for freedom. Your nails dig into the sleeves of your apparel as your mind scrambles to search for more accusations.

Why did you want a divorce again?

You control your erratic breaths forcefully, “Well, I don't feel safe in Fontaine anymore. A deadly prophecy is at our door and with no solution in sight. I'd much prefer to relocate to someplace with less volatile weather, like Liyue or Mondstadt.”

Neuvillette tilts his head, “Ah, you want to go on a vacation, am I correct? To be honest, I've been entertaining the thought of traveling to the other nations with you by my side for quite a while. Though, things being the way as they're now, that is not possible. I can promise you that after everything has been settled, we will go on a journey together, mon trésor.”

This time you don't bother to conceal your disbelief, of course he focuses on the part that most serves him and twists the narrative to further enrich his fantasies! You bite your tongue back from yelling that you don't want a vacation, you want freedom from these suffocating high walls of marble. You don't just want freedom from Neuvillette, you want freedom from this cursed nation and it's solely Neuvillette's fault you were unable to do so with your kin five hundred years ago.

“Fontaine will face diplomatic and political consequences soon. Because you threw that Harbinger of Sumeru—”

“Sneznaya, mon trésor.”

“—I know that. My point is that we might face backlash from the Fatui in our vulnerable state and who knows? Fontaine might just collapse as a nation! I don't want to stay in a city like this.”

You freeze at the sigh that escapes Neuvillette's lips, you've been probing and digging for a normal human reaction from this man for a while, but at the instance that he actually gives it, you cannot help but find it jarring.

“Fontaine will not collapse from something as trivial as diplomatic pressure from the Fatui. Even though the prophecy looms above our heads, there are many factions that are actively working towards prevention. And even if Fontaine were to be drowned tomorrow, I have faith that not all of the citizens will be dissolved and you would always be my first priority. As for that Sneznayan Harbinger… we've merely followed the Court's protocols. If we did indeed convict him of crimes he did not commit, we'll most certainly compensate him to the fullest extent allowed by the law.”

For a transient eternity, all that echoed throughout the garden of the Chief Justice were the chirping of birds. Your mind carefully assesses the words from moments ago, searching for even a modicum of dishonesty.

You watch the Iudex's unfettered gaze, at last giving a glimpse of the tumults raging beneath the pretentious still surface. You can hear the swelling of waves again, albeit not for the purpose to engulf but, with the determination to protect.

You'd recognize that look on Neuvillette's face even in your (unlikely) deathbed, the causation of your bafflement though is that, this is the first time you've seen it appear in correlation to something other than yourself.

Your right hand idly smoothes your garbs and your left grips the wooden handle of your seat, you find both of your palms drenched in sweat upon contact.

“You’ve gone soft, ______”

You blankly admit in your semi-dazed state and it's Neuvillette's turn to take a deep breath. It's been a while since you've spoken that name aloud, the one that is only permitted to be uttered by you in private ambiances such as this and which serves as the origin for this clandestine marriage.

For some reason you cannot quite comprehend — especially since your husband does not seem to suffer from it — your memory enjoys having a love-hate relationship with you. From what you recall at this instance, the last time you called the Iudex by his true name was when he gifted you this garden. Its utterance is so rare that even the bearer is rendered speechless each time.

Neuvillette copies your previous antics and pastes it onto the current situation with a prolonged look-over of your person, “Your apparel today suits you most exquisitely, mon trésor.”

You answer with a gracious eye-roll, “Don’t change the subject.”

The Chief Justice of Fontaine straightens his posture with a somewhat bashful chuckle, the afternoon sun's soft hues make the ivory strands of his hair sparkle. “Apologies, I've been meaning to compliment your appearance, not that it is ever short of radiant — I just could not find a suitable opening.”

You submit to the urge to slouch ever so slightly with a sigh, “You don't have to apologize for every little thing, you know?”

“Apologi—” Neuvillette corrects himself with a cough concealed by his fist, you watch with intrigue as soft coral dusts his pale cheeks.

“As for your ‘question’, I will admit that throughout my coexistence with humans as Fontaine's Iudex, I've come to appreciate their ideals, characteristics and interpersonal relationships. In a way, I've understood myself to a great extent through observing them. Just as you wished I would.”

You furrow your brows in genuine confusion, “What do you mean?”

Your husband seems to steel himself for something, hands intertwined atop the oak table and eyes drained from his earlier playful light all too quickly. “You’ve always wished to become human. To view this world through the eyes of a mortal, to be able to have a taste of their myriad and complex relationships and... to die alongside someone you truly love.”

Somewhere in the crevices of your archaic mind, there's a vacuum hidden beneath the symphony of sea waves. Unchanging, uncharted and unperturbed by your attempts to identify what used to occupy that space.

Neuvillette's cryptic admission creates a crack on what you assumed to be an empty spot occupied by white noise, the cleft dents your memories and spreads, a raucous scream threatens to rupture your eardrums.

“Are you, perhaps,” your fingers clasp onto the silk of your garb, “insinuating that you've granted me my ‘wish’?”

If you had gathered the strength to look up, you would've been blessed with the sight of the Iudex thrown off-guard. But the lapse in composure is short lived, “Of course.”

Something about his easy confirmation annihilates your decorum and replaces it with a rage of unknown origin, “So you think imprisoning me has made me happy? That it's made me feel human? That your kindness and preachings of justice have bewitched me so much that I've considered you as a lover for even a second? No, no and no! I have never and will never stop hating you, ______!”

But why do you hate him? Your thoughts echo back to you ; he's ensured you never have to ask for a meal, he's clothed you, he's provided a solid roof above your head and he's given you his heart — or at least that's what he says.

For not once does a memory that he's mistreated you arise in your head but, what does bubble in your heart is an inexplicable hatred. A hatred so grave that it motivates you to not surrender to this unfair trial, contemptuous waves swell, rise to heights unseen, crash down—

“Do not forget that abandoned property belongs to whoever finds it first.”

And drag everything to the ocean's dark depths.

A jolt shakes your whole body, your eyes rise to meet the tempest in disbelief and suddenly, the dam shatters. Now you can see the serpent leering behind the charming flower, an unrestricted view of what the fair and ideal Iudex is inside those glimmering garbs of honor — a dragon with manicured claws and perfumed scales, seated to a chair of judgement yet, forever guilty of a sin he refuses to purge.

Only you remember that Neuvillette wasn't always like this ; in days not noted down in history he'd been an enigma, unsure of the significance of his existence, burning with contempt for the so-called Usurpers and sometimes cruel. But at least, he wasn't a hypocrite.

He'd dug his talons deep into your heart and skin and engraved his name within your soul, he'd defiled the waters that construct your being with hatred and malice but at least, he hadn't refused to acknowledge that it was him who shackled you to this godforsaken nation, separated from the rest of your kin.

Neuvillette takes a deep breath upon noticing your erratic trembling, the tsunami recedes. “It always ends like this,”

It does. This excuse of a trial with your freedom as the wager, born of your husband's ironic belief of justice, that you should still be given a chance to speak up against iniquity. He'll take great note of any other issues that might cause you distress, but the actual concern will never be addressed — that's how it's been for five centuries.

It is the kind of judge that Neuvillette has become in matters that concern you, finding loopholes to keep you attached to his name yet hidden from prying eyes ; all because of his principle that having a public personal relationship will bring the impartiality of the judiciary system to question.

“However, it must be done to ensure your safety.” you tense as he rises from his seat, gloved fingers trace the silk table cloth.

The grass crunches beneath his heel, “For who knows what the public's reaction would be if it was to be leaked, that the Iudex Neuvillette's spouse was the progenitor of the prophecy?”

You feel the familiar texture of Neuvillette's glove supporting your face, wiping the cascading tears that escaped without your notice. “Do you not remember, mon trésor, that you need me?”

Your vision blurs and all you see is blue, his blue or yours, your mind refuses to confirm. But what it does corroborate are Neuvillette's words, that you would not survive without his care, that you are the first who had wished to become human and that you are the first sinner.

You feel his touch more firmly this time, it's not warm like all the other times ; but soothing and sedating. As though, a cavity within your soul was given meaning and a portion of your memories hidden away. Your eyes are defeated against the temptation of slumber, but before the darkness engulfs you, you vividly hear the rumbling of an ensuing storm, the first of many tears of the sky hitting your skin.

“I suppose this must be my punishment. But, I would rather prefer being the recipient of your scorn and contempt than to not have you at all.”

But why go through such lengths? Neuvillette's conscience asks as he takes your limp body in his arms, the sound of heavy rain follows his footsteps back towards your shared ‘home’.

To this, he consoles himself : the words unspoken are the flower.

#requests: batch two #answered #yandere #yandere neuvillette #yandere neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin #teabutmakeitazure #neuvillette

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aydracz · 5 months

Text

South Downs Happy Husbands

@idkchatie

(More pics below)

Buzzing to share these with you! While on our trip to London to see Nye (which was phenomenal and so was meeting Michael afterwards!), @0xlilith and I made a day trip to the South Downs to see where the ineffable husbands will spend their retirement.

We were blown away (figuratively and literally) by the South Downs! And then the time came to take out some amazing fanart and take photos of what Crowley and Aziraphale might be up to in the future.

Couldn't find the creator - please help, so I can credit them

@blairamok

@lizulimu on X

@numbuh424

Couldn't find the creator - please help, so I can credit them

@turnipoddity

@tio-trile

@kidovna

Bonus - @0xlilith and I, the rational adults that we are, decided to draw magician moustaches, print out the first photo and go to the National Theatre again to show it to Michael Sheen. Sadly, he didn't do stage door that night. But we met many wonderful people in the queue so it was a great evening nonetheless!

We had a blast doing this and many new headcanons came out of this trip. For example:

Crowley shouts at all the rabbits because they are eating his garden produce. Until he notices there are also little bunnies and he simply cannot shout at those. He ends up dedicating part of his garden to the rabbits. Aziraphale finds this endearing.

While on their walks on the cliffs, Crowley picks up snails.

Crowley makes up random stories about the local lore and tells them to the tourists. Aziraphale puts and end to this when the stories gradually become more and more unhinged.

Aziraphale takes up bird watching.

Crowley makes fun of it at first but then he also takes up bird watching.

Aziraphale and Crowley start competing in bird watching.

Aziraphale doesn't believe Crowley saw the birds he claims he did.

Crowley is adamant he really saw the yellow-breasted tit.

Aziraphale calls Crowley a yellow-breasted tit.

Etc etc.

Hope you enjoy these as much as we enjoyed making them!

And if you are in London right now, some are actually glued to the benches around the Bandstand in Battersea Park. Check out my previous post to get the details!

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mononijikayu · 4 months

Text

“slipping through my fingers” — gojo satoru.

Your little Satoshi pouted for a moment, clearly missing their presence.You were sure he was going to bawl about it as well, swaying him and reassuring him that he’s going to see them later on. But his loving father Gojo Satoru, was always quick to adapt and took over playing with him after breakfast. Crisis was averted in the department of tears as Gojo Satoshi giggled, his chubby hands clumsily trying to catch the ball Satoru rolled towards him.

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, family, comfort, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, mention of breastfeeding, mention of postpartum effects, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: slipping through my fingers by abba

NOTE: i had to skip nanami and toji because today is a very important day. today according to the united nations, is global day of parents. today we should honor parents, biological or not, or those we chose - they are people we should embrace. from gaza, to here in asia, to anywhere, all parents, all those who stand as our parents - they deserve all our love. happy global day of parents from me to you!!! i love you!!!

masterlist

u s and t h e m

kayu's playlist — side 700;

TIME PASSED BY SO FAST. The morning sun filtered through the light gray curtains, casting a warm, golden hue over the living room. It was rare for the Gojo household to be this serene. But you were happy that it was the case. It was as if a gentle rain of gentle peace had showered over your home the moment your son was born. It was as if he had completed this family. You knew you weren’t the only one that thought that way.

You hummed softly, feeling the warmth on your skin as you prepared breakfast. It was a good morning.It was one of those rare days when your husband Gojo Satoru was at home. And that puts you in a good mood. Your husband doesn’t sleep much and more so. That has always worried you, even when he was your kouhai. Nothing had changed with the fact that he’s always out and about working and doing missions.

But you worry still, that you aren’t there to soothe him and tell him it was alright to rest. When he’s home, you could do that. You didn’t have to worry as much as you usually do. Having him home means he could be here with the family. That also means he could stay in bed longer, savoring the simple pleasure of waking up next to you. These moments were precious, and you clung to them more than you could explain.

The start of the morning was happily slow, the house enveloped in a serene calm. You cherished the tranquility, knowing how fleeting it often was. As you moved about the kitchen, you could feel the warm sun against your silk robe. There it was again, the familiar sounds of the coffee maker and the sizzling of bacon omelets created a comforting symphony. The sound of the oven racks filled with fresh buttered bread. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the scent of breakfast.

You smiled as you thought about Satoru still in bed, his tousled white hair spread across the pillow, a rare sight of peacefulness. You poured a cup of coffee for yourself, adding two spoonfuls of honey. You knew Satoru would probably not be drinking coffee.

But just in case, you made hot choco he could heat up in the microwave later, adding just the right amount of cream and sugar to him. You take out the eggs from the fry pan and humming as you take out the buttered bread from the oven. Balancing the breakfast plate, you made your way to the living room, placing the plates on the coffee table.

As you expected, the morning birds were already there waiting for you to wake. Megumi and Tsumiki were already awake when you got out of the kitchen. They sat on the couch, engrossed in a morning cartoon, Tsumiki’s laughter and chatter filling the room with warmth and Megumi’s quiet hums as he listened to his sister’s commentary while drinking his carton of choco milk.

Tsumiki glanced up and greeted you with a bright smile. "Good morning!"

"Good morning, sweetie!" you replied, returning to the kitchen for your coffee mug on the table. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did.” Tsumiki grinned, hugging you by your sides.“Thank you for helping me put my new butterfly comforters last night, Gen-san!”

You smiled at her, urging her to breakfast. “Then go eat, hm?”

You then moved towards the sleepy porcupine haired boy, ruffling his hair with a small grin. He looked away from the television, offering a small, sleepy smile. “You must have been up reading those novels again, hm?”

Megumi's eyes widened slightly before he looked away. “...no, I didn’t.”

“Hmm… so if I check your room, I wouldn’t see a pile of books—”

“No!” He got defensive, standing up from his chair, now almost fully awake.

You blinked and looked at Tsumiki, and the two of you giggled together.

Megumi blushed as he sighed. You patted his head softly, causing him to blush even more. “You know, you’re lucky that it’s a Sunday, kid,” you smiled at him. “You would have been sleepy all day.”

“.....It was good.”

You kissed the top of his head. “I know it was.”

"Where's Satoru-san?" Tsumiki asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"He's still resting," you said, settling onto the couch beside them. "He had a long week, so we're letting him sleep in today."

Megumi nodded, his attention already drifting back to the show. You called Megumi down to sit by you and Tsumiki as you both ate your meals. Megumi was not the type to indulge in breakfast, he liked just drinking his choco milk and going on with the morning. But some days, he liked to indulge himself. He sat beside you, and put his choco milk on the side. Tsumiki and you started to chatter about the cartoon while Megumi ate in silence, nodding along with what you both were saying.

Tsumiki was happy to help you carry the dishes back into the kitchen while Megumi took a cleaning rag and started to clean the coffee table spotless. Tsumiki started talking about what she was planning to do today, all the while you listened and handed the plates for her to dry with the kitchen towel. Megumi came by soon after, asking for help to wash the cleaning rag.

When that was done, Megumi took out the lint roller and started to check for any speck of dirt like crumbs. When he was done, you three went back to the living room and started watching a movie together. Tsumiki snuggled closer on your right while Megumi slept soundly on your left. You smiled and hugged her back, and massaged Megumi’s hair tenderly.

The baby monitor on the table crackled to life, and you heard soft cooing sounds coming from the nursery. "Looks like our little one is awake for the day." you said, standing up. "I'll go get him."

Tsumiki’s eyes brightened as she nodded. You stood there carefully, trying to be careful not to wake Megumi. You walked down the hallway, the morning light from the wide windows guiding your way. Entering the nursery, you found your six-month-old son awake in his crib, his bright eyes lighting up as he saw you like an ocean in the dawn. You grinned at him.

"Good morning, sweetheart," you cooed, lifting him into your arms. He babbled happily, his tiny hands reaching for your face. “You had a good sleep, didn’t you?”

As you returned to the living room, you saw your husband Satoru emerging from the bedroom, rubbing sleep from his cerulean eyes. He smiled when he saw you holding your son. "Morning, my treasures." he greeted, his voice warm and filled with love. “You both look so lively today, aren’t you?”

“You should say ‘good morning’ to papa, shouldn’t you, Satoshi?” You cooed as you handed your son gently giggled as Satoru took him in his arms.

“You’re just so happy to see ‘e, hm?” Your husband grinned as he gently wrapped his arms around your baby boy. “You should still sleep with us. I miss having you on our bed, ‘toshi.”

“Our Satoshi needs to learn how to be an independent little boy.” You kissed your husband tenderly on his lips, pouting as you part from him. “He’s not gonna last in our bed with all the rolling he’s been doing.”

“But ‘toshi wants to be with his mama and papa, don’t you, little one?” He cooes against your husband, both big blue eyes looking at you. “See, he agrees!”

“Not enough to be an argument.”

“Soon enough, ‘toshi. We’ll get there, don’t worry!”

"We shall see, naughty boys." you replied, grinning at him. "So, did you sleep well?"

"Like a baby," he chuckled, kissing your son’s cheek.. "Well, almost as well as our baby here."

You both laughed, and Satoru leaned in to kiss you, his lips soft and warm against yours. "I missed waking up with you, y’know?" he murmured. “Knowing you guys are here waiting for me to come home and I can’t be here. It sucks.”

"I’ve missed it too,’toru." you said, feeling a surge of affection for the man standing before you. "Let's enjoy this slow morning together, hm? Make it worthwhile until tomorrow, hm?”

Satoru nodded, taking your son's tiny hand in his. "I keep noticing it. But he's growing up so fast," he huffed at you, a hint of sadness in his voice. "He can sit up now, and he’s rolling. Soon enough he’s gonna start crawling.”

You sighed, kissing your son’s little head. “I still can’t believe he’s already six months old, my love. He’s already so big.”

“Sometimes I wish I could slow down time," Satoru said wistfully, staring at your little boy as he grabbed the sheets in his fingers. “He’s already so big, and I can’t always be home.”

"I know," you said softly, taking a moment to take his free hand in yours. “And don’t feel bad. You’re doing your best. You know that.”

“I do know that.” He sighed, squeezing your hand gently. “But I just… ever since he was born, I just wanted to be his dad. Just wanna stay here at home and raise him. Not out there, fighting curses and stuff. I wanna see him and ‘miki and ‘gumi growing up together, y’know? I don’t wanna do the job anymore.”

You looked into his bright cerulean eyes, seeing the conflict and the deep longing. You knew your Satoru hated being a sorcerer. Everything about it was painful for him. But he liked being a teacher, he liked that job. He wanted to do it for the longest time because he always thought it was the best way he could make change work. He saw that nurturing the youth was the best way to bring the Jujutsu world into the modern world.

But with all that, he also felt that to do what he does, to make it work — he has to sacrifice all the time he could be with you and the kids. And that, he hated more than he hated the sorcerer’s life. He hated being apart from what matters most in his life. Gojo Satoru was just a man too. He’s a man that longs for home, for family.

"You’re an amazing dad, Satoru," you reassured him. "And I know it’s hard, but you’re doing what you can to keep us safe and happy. The kids know that too. They love you for it.”

He nodded, a soft smile forming on his lips as he glanced back at your son. “It’s just… every moment I’m away, I feel like I’m missing out. I want to be there for every milestone, every laugh, every tear. I don’t want to miss anything anymore.”

"I understand," you whispered, your heart aching for him. "And we’ll make the most of the time we have together. Maybe one day, things will change, and you’ll be able to be home more. But for now, let’s cherish every moment.”

Satoru leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "Thank you," he murmured. "For understanding. For always being here. For making this place a home."

"We’re a team, my love." you said, squeezing his hand. "And no matter what, we’ll face everything together, hm? We’ll always be together.”

Your little boy cooed and giggled, making you both look at him. You laugh as you both kiss his cheeks. Looks like he agrees with the two of you. The two of you sat there, soaking in the precious morning. Despite the challenges and the fleeting nature of time, you found solace in each other and the beautiful family you were building. It makes you look forward to more days like these ones. You wanted nothing more than to be embraced by this peace.

The two of you stepped out of your bedroom a little while later, with Satoshi safely nestled in Satoru’s capable hands. Megumi’s porcupine hair sprang up as he sat up from his sleeping position, Tsumiki greeting him awake with a small smile. The soft sounds of your son gurgling and babbling filled the air, drawing Megumi and Tsumiki's attention toward the three of you.

Tsumiki squealed in delight and walked toward you, saying good morning to Satoshi. The baby seemed just as delighted with her, his tiny hand reaching out to Tsumiki. Megumi approached as well, and when Satoshi noticed him, his other hand reached out toward Megumi.

“Good morning, little guy!” Tsumiki cooed, gently taking Satoshi’s hand. "Did you sleep well?”

Satoshi responded with a happy babble, his eyes twinkling with curiosity and joy. Megumi, trying to hide his own excitement, gently took Satoshi’s other hand, earning a giggle from the baby.

“Looks like someone’s happy to see his big brother and sister,” Satoru said with a smile, his eyes soft as he watched the three of them interact. “He’s definitely wanting to have some play time with you both.”

“Then we will, Satoru-san!” Tsumiki grinned as her eyes filled with the stars. “I’m excited to see him play with the blocks again.”

“Hm, ‘toshi managed to lift them up well last night, didn’t he?” Satoru grinned back at her, his cerulean eyes darting at his baby boy. “What do you think, ‘toshi? Can you top yourself today, little dawn?”

Megumi, still holding Satoshi’s hand, looked up at Satoru. “He’s growing up so fast. It feels like just yesterday he was born.”

“I know,” Satoru replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of pride and wistfulness. “But we’re lucky to see him grow and to be a part of his little dawnings, hm?”

You watched the scene unfold, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “Every moment is precious, everyone.” you said softly, leaning against Satoru. “And we’re making the most of them.”

As the morning sun continued to filter through the windows, casting a warm glow over your family, you felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. In the gentle embrace of dawn's light, amidst the everyday hustle and bustle, there existed a profound beauty. It was in these simple, yet profound moments that the true essence of life revealed itself. Despite the challenges and the rapid passage of time, these moments of connection and love were what made everything worthwhile.

The morning rays illuminated the room, dancing playfully across the walls, and you couldn't help but marvel at the way they seemed to highlight the love that filled the space. Each tender glance, every shared smile, spoke volumes of the bonds that held your family together.

In these fleeting moments, as the world outside rushed by, time seemed to slow down, allowing you to savor the sweetness of the present. It was as if the universe had pressed pause, granting you a brief respite from the chaos of everyday life.

As you looked around at the faces of your loved ones, bathed in the golden light of morning, you realized that this, right here, was what it was all about. It was about cherishing the small moments, the quiet conversations, and the shared laughter. It was about finding beauty in the ordinary and love in the everyday.

And so, as the sun continued its journey across the sky, you held onto this feeling of gratitude, letting it wash over you like a gentle wave. For in these moments, surrounded by the warmth of your family, you knew that life was truly a gift worth treasuring.

Life could not get any better than this.

You couldn’t wait to see how it unfolds.

This morning will be a happy one again.

That you were never going to doubt.

YOU FEARED THAT BOTH OF YOU WEREN’T READY FOR THIS. A package arrived that morning from aunt Arisu and your mother. Satoru was confused, looking at his phone. He never ordered anything and even when he did, he would get a notification. He learned the hard way of not having a notification when he bought something and you were the one who saw it. He looked at you, shaking his head. You didn’t order either. You were a bit more suspicious with ordering online. Ever since your Mewtwo figurine arrived with discoloration, you were trying to be more careful. You shook your head at him just as much.

When you saw the letter from your mother, you instantly thought you knew what it was. She had been talking about how near Satoshi was with being able to eat solids. Last time you visited Mikoto manor in Kyoto, Satoshi was stealing her natto bowl. She had laughed it off, but now you realized that her laugh was pride for her grandson growing up. And now, both you and Satoru were sitting on the floor, surrounded by an array of baby food jars, each promising a different culinary adventure for your little one.

Sweet potatoes, peas, applesauce, and bananas were neatly lined up, each jar meticulously packaged one after another. You checked the bottom for the expiration dates. You don’t think Satoshi will be able to finish all of it. You don’t even think that Satoshi would like every flavor. He’s still drinking from your breast milk too. It was exciting, that’s for sure. But you were concerned about the fact that these will go to waste.

You held your son with one hand, his weight comfortably nestled against your hip, while the other hand deftly navigated through the array of baby food jars. It was a delicate balancing act, one that you had perfected through countless days of caring for Satoshi. As you carefully sifted through the jars, your fingers grazed over the smooth glass surfaces, each one holding the promise of a new taste sensation for your little one.

Despite the occasional wobble as Satoshi squirmed in your arms, you remained focused, determined to find the perfect combination of flavors to tantalize his taste buds. With each jar you picked up, you couldn't help but marvel at the thoughtfulness that went into creating these tiny culinary delights, each one meticulously crafted to nourish and delight your growing son.

As you finally settled on a few jars to try, you felt a sense of satisfaction wash over you. It wasn't just about feeding your son; it was about nourishing his curiosity, his sense of adventure, and his growing appetite for life. And as you looked down at Satoshi's eager face, you knew that this simple act of selecting baby food was just the beginning of a lifetime of shared experiences and cherished memories.

Satoru let out a small sigh, running a hand through his white hair as he looked at the jars.”I don’t even know where Arisu got all this.”

“Apparently, my mom and her managed to find all this from one of the windows we hired at the temple.” You say, sighing as you arrange the jars in a safe distance from your son. “And it worked well for her daughter’s baby. So mom and aunt Arisu thought this was going to be good for Satoshi too.”

"I can't believe he's already six months old." he said, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and melancholy. "It feels like just yesterday we were bringing him home from the hospital. And now, look at this. He’ll be eating this soon enough!”

You reached out, placing a comforting hand on his knee. "I know, Satoru. It feels like time is slipping through our fingers."

He gave you a small, wistful smile, his bright eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Remember when we finished the fifth-month photo album? I thought I'd be fine, but seeing how much he's grown...I couldn't help but cry."

You chuckled softly, squeezing his knee gently. "And now we're here, trying to figure out what our little boy's first solid food will be. It's a big milestone."

Satoru looked down at your son, who was busy gnawing on a soft toy, oblivious to the significance of the moment. "What do you think he'll like?" he asked, his voice soft and tender.

You glanced at the array of jars, considering each one. "Well, he seems to like sweet things. Maybe we should start with the applesauce?"

Satoru nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea. Applesauce it is." He reached for the jar, his fingers trembling slightly. "Do you want to do the honors, or should I?"

You smiled, seeing the emotion in his eyes. "Let's do it together."

Gently, you both lifted your son into his high chair, his curious eyes darting between the two of you and the jar of applesauce. You opened the jar, the sweet aroma filling the air, and dipped a tiny spoon into the puree.

Satoru held your son's hands, steadying him as you brought the spoon to his lips. Tentatively, your son opened his mouth, tasting the applesauce for the first time. His eyes widened in surprise, then crinkled in delight as he smacked his lips.

Both you and Satoru laughed, tears of joy streaming down your faces. "He likes it!" Satoru exclaimed, his voice breaking with emotion. "He really likes it!"

You nodded, feeling a swell of happiness in your chest. "He does. Our little boy is growing up so fast."

Satoru wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close as you both watched your son eagerly reach for the spoon, ready for another taste of his new favorite food. "I love you," Satoru whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"I love you too," you replied, resting your head on his shoulder. "And I love our little family."

As the three of you sat there, basking in the glow of this precious moment, you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude wash over you. The soft light filtering through the windows cast a warm embrace over your little family, illuminating the joy and contentment that filled the room.

In that fleeting moment, surrounded by jars of baby food and the sound of Satoshi's delighted babbling, time seemed to stand still. It was as if the universe had conspired to create a perfect tableau, a snapshot of love and togetherness frozen in time.

As you looked at Satoru and then down at Satoshi, a wave of emotion threatened to overwhelm you. Here, in this simple moment, you found everything you had ever wanted—a loving partner, a beautiful child, and a sense of belonging that filled your heart to the brim.

You could have not seen this years ago.

But you were glad you didn’t then.

Because now, you were truly happy.

Beyond all words can truly be express.

ALL THAT PLAYING MADE SATOSHI TIRED. Megumi and Tsumiki excused themselves back to their rooms after spending some time in the living room. They said they had other things they needed to do. You didn’t question it that much, they always took time to play with Satoshi before they did their own things — so you let them go.

He was energetic for hours on end, very much on par with his father’s own energy. But after using all that energy playing with his father, your son started to get groggy. He started crying, getting hungry for milk. His contorted face looks exactly like your husband’s own face when he starts to get mopey when he wants his sweet snacks.

Your husband rolled his eyes playfully, when you pointed it out while breastfeeding him. Satoru then took him from you, to burp him and put him to bed. Your breasts were still full after that, so you had to pump all the rest into a bottle to be frozen later on. By that time, you were too drained of energy. You put the bottles away and your husband Satoru kissed you and thanked you, telling you to go get some rest. He was the one who was going to deal with lunch. He wants to take care of you, he said. And he meant it. With those words, you fell in love with him again. And so you laid down on the couch, trying to take some rest.

Once Satoshi was down for his nap, he put him in his crib. He kisses his cheek, telling him to have good dreams. When Satoru saw you next, you were asleep in the living room couch. He couldn’t help but want to place a kiss on your cheeks. His bright blue eyes were full of awe as you rested on the couch. His precious wife. You made everything in life easier, that was sure. You worked hard taking care of the kids, of your baby, of him. You deserved to rest, he loves to think. And now, he wants to take care of you.

Satoru checked the fridge, humming as he took a look at the food inside. He wanted to prepare something nutritious for everyone but especially something good for you. You were still breastfeeding Satoshi, so your health was paramount in his mind. When he saw the salmon, he knew he was going to make some delicious grilled salmon. He'd read that it helps with the pain in your breasts. He saw the miso, and he thought it would be perfect for marinating the salmon. You’d like it a lot. There was some seaweed in the fridge too, and he thought it would be great in a soup. With some tofu, shiitake mushrooms, and a bit of meat, it would be both hearty and enjoyable.

He moved efficiently around the kitchen, his movements practiced and precise. He marinated the salmon in miso, set it aside to soak in the flavors, and started on the soup. The kitchen filled with the rich aroma of shiitake mushrooms simmering, mingling with the subtle scent of seaweed. As he carefully grilled the salmon, he could hear you stirring awake in the bedroom.

You always had a keen sense of smell, and the scent of the grilled miso salmon must have reached you. He grinned as he heard you padding down the hallway, still a little groggy from sleep. You walked up to the kitchen, wrapping your arms around him from behind. "It smells so good, 'toru," you murmured, your voice thick with sleep.

He turned his head slightly to kiss your forehead, his heart swelling with affection. “I made something special for you. Thought it might help with the breastfeeding pain.”

You smiled against his back, pressing a light kiss there. “You’re too good to me.”

Satoru chuckled, a warm, deep sound that resonated through his chest. “Only the best for my favorite person in the world.” he teased gently, turning back to the stove to check on the soup. “The salmon’s almost done. Just a few more minutes.”

You stayed there for a moment, savoring the comfort of being close to him, before reluctantly pulling away to set the table. You were carefully putting each bowl and each utensil, the glasses. You could still feel the grogginess in your limbs, but the delicious smells and the thoughtfulness behind Satoru’s cooking filled you with a warm, contented feeling. Your husband was the best person you could ever ask for, you think. And now, you could only love him even more.

As you finished setting the table, Satoru plated the food, arranging the grilled salmon and bowls of steaming soup with care. “Lunch is served, my darling.” he announced with a flourish, making you laugh. “Come on, you awake now?”

You both sat down, and he watched with satisfaction as you took your first bite of the salmon. “It’s amazing,” you said, your eyes lighting up. “You outdid yourself, Satoru.”

He smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “I’m glad you like it.”

“We should call the kids so they can eat with us.” He stands up.

“I’ll come with you, so that we can eat together.” You follow him.

He hands you his own hand. “Well, take my hands.”

You look at him, blinking. “Why?”

“Because holding hands makes everything good.” He grins at you.

You giggled, intertwining his hand with your own. “Yeah, yeah, you’re so corny.”

“Hey! I’m just a man in love!”

The house was relatively a normal house, but it was quite spacious. It was obvious that Satoru spent some money finding a house which would fit all of your comforts. Megumi and Tsumiki’s room was on the other side of the second floor, just a few doors away from your own bedroom and just a little bit further from the nursery. You and Satoru quietly made your way through the house, you both humming a song stuck in his head. And now that he had hummed it long enough, you learned it and hummed with you too.

The house was interestingly silent, but it wasn’t unusual. At times, Megumi was just reading a book he had taken home from the library. And Tsumiki would be too busy finishing her drawings with her windowpane. The silence was always comforting in the Gojo household. It was like being wrapped around you like a warm blanket. However, as you got nearer the kids’ rooms, the tranquility was soon interrupted by faint, muffled voices. You were pretty sure that it came from Megumi’s room.

You exchanged a curious glance with Satoru before heading toward the source of the commotion. Your face furrows. Megumi and Tsumiki rarely fight. If they were fighting, it must be serious. You pulled Satoru towards Megumi’s door. Standing outside Megumi's door, you could hear the sounds of a hushed argument even more clearer now.

"Shhh, Megumi, calm down! you’ll wake Satoshi!” Tsumiki whispered urgently.

“We have to do it right!” Megumi retorted in a low voice, clearly frustrated. “No, no, don’t add that!”

“But it makes it even more lively–”

“It makes it messy!”

Satoru looked at you and you nodded at your husband. You and Satoru knocked gently on the door. But there was no response. Almost instantly, the room fell silent. You looked at your husband again, now confused. After a moment, Fushiguro Tsumiki opened the door ever so slightly, a nervous smile on her face.

“What’s going on here?” Satoru’s eyes trying to check inside the room. You were pretty sure that he was trying to check with his six-eyes, if there was something wrong.. “You kids are getting lively, huh?”

Tsumiki opened the door even more and Megumi and herexchanged quick glances. You and Satoru entered a bit by the doorway before Tsumiki spoke up. “We… um, we were working on something.” She stepped aside, moving to the side as though she was hiding something. “Just for school, you know… like usual.”

Satoru raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by their attempt at secrecy. "School projects on a Sunday? Sounds serious."

“If you had projects, you could have told us, ‘miki.” You told her, patting her head. “You don’t have to do them alone.”

“N-no, it's fine. It’s nothing really.”

“Hm, you sure, ‘miki?” Your husband reinforced, then looked at Megumi. “‘bout you, ‘gumi? You okay there?”

Tsumiki's nervous smile widened as she tried to maintain her composure. “Yeah, it’s just a little project. Nothing big.”

But your curiosity was piqued. “Can we see what you’re working on?” you asked gently, trying not to pressure them too much. “If that’s okay with you.”

Megumi and Tsumiki looked at each other.

Tsumiki’s fingers were entangled like spider webs.

Megumi looked down at the edge of his cold feet.

You and Satoru knew those little tells very well.

But you wanted them to tell you about it honestly.

Megumi purses his lips before he lets out a sigh. realizing they couldn’t keep the secret any longer. He stepped forward, his own hands now fidgeting slightly. “Okay, but… it’s not just for school,” he admitted. “It’s….something else.”

Your husband’s dark glasses lowered, lips smiling. “Oh? And what is it, hm? Don’t worry, we won’t judge. If it’s fixable, it's nothing. If it isn’t, it's okay too. As long as you both are alright, okay? Besides, you guys must be hungry. We’ll eat after, okay?”

Megumi and Tsumiki looked at both of you.

They both slowly nodded at your husband.

He smiles at them, patting their heads.

“Okay so, what is it all about, kiddos?”

Tsumiki took a deep breath, her eyes shining with a mix of excitement and nerves. Her hands are still fidgeting together. “We were making something special. It’s nothing much….but….my friend at school, she’s Korean, and she told me about this holiday they have called Parents’ Day. It’s a day to appreciate your parents, and I thought it was really nice. To…..So…..I convinced Megumi to help me make something for you guys.”

Megumi nodded, still looking a bit uncomfortable. He rubs the back of his neck, feeling his face slightly turning red. “We never really knew our parents long enough to call them that, parents.” he said quietly. “But you and Gojo–san… you’re all we have. The closest thing to parents we’ve got.”

Tsumiki picked up a small, handmade scrapbook from Megumi’s desk and handed it to you. “We wanted to do something special for you both. To show you how much you mean to us.”

Your heart swelled with emotion as you took a look at the scrapbook in Tsumiki’s hands. Satoru, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, put a hand on Megumi’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. As you accepted the scrapbook from Tsumiki's outstretched hands, you felt a rush of nostalgia wash over you.

Opening the scrapbook, the weight of the memories contained within the pages was palpable, each photo and memento a testament to the bonds of friendship and the shared experiences they had all treasured. Satoru's silent gesture spoke volumes, his cerulean eyes shimmering with unshed tears that mirrored the emotions swirling within Hiromi's own heart. The gentle pressure of his hand on Megumi's shoulder, squeezing it as though to thank him for this little gift.

In that fleeting moment, as you held the scrapbook in your hands, you felt a profound sense of gratitude.. Their unwavering support and understanding had been a source of strength during the darkest moments of your journey, and now, as you reminisced about the past, it served as a beacon of hope for the future. Nothing else mattered, but the wonder of the future. Because they were here with you. Megumi and Tsumiki, and now Satoshi — all three were truly yours and Satoru’s world.

With tears glistening in your eyes, you turned to Tsumiki, your voice choked with emotion. "Thank you," you whispered, "For this, and for everything. ‘miki, you and Megumi are our world, hm? Never forget that.”

Tsumiki's smile was gentle and reassuring, her eyes reflecting the same depth of emotion that permeated the room. "Thank you for loving us, me and Megumi." she replied softly, her voice a soothing melody in the stillness.

“Oh ‘miki, you don’t have to thank us for that.” Satoru whispered, pulling Megumi closer to him. Megumi looked like he was going to lose it. But he didn’t push Satoru away. He just let him pull him closer. “This is…this is just….”

Opening the first page, you saw Megumi and Tsumiki's handwriting: “Happy Parents' Day. Thank you for choosing us. We may not be your kids by blood, but we’re happy that you still chose to love us. We love you. Tsumiki and Megumi.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you read the heartfelt message. You looked at Satoru, who was equally moved, then back at Megumi and Tsumiki. “This is… this is the most beautiful gift we’ve ever received, you both.” you said, your voice choked with emotion. “Thank you so much.”

Satoru knelt down, pulling both kids into a tight hug. “You two are our family,” he said, his voice thick with tears. “We love you more than anything.”

You joined the embrace, wrapping your arms around all two of them. “Thank you,” you whispered. “For being the best children we could ever ask for. You both and Satoshi, you’re our world okay?”

Megumi and Tsumiki nodded, their eyes shining with tears of their own. "We love you too," Megumi murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tsumiki nodded in agreement, her voice soft yet filled with conviction. "You're the best parents we could ever have."

You cried for a while, just embracing each other. The lunch got cold, that was certain. But you could always heat it up again. This moment, this is what mattered. Time may be slipping from your fingers all the time, but you could live in these moments forever, you know that.

Wrapped in each other's arms, you felt the weight of the world lift, replaced by the comfort of love and understanding. It didn't matter that the food grew cold or that the outside world continued to spin on its axis. In this moment, with Satoru's arms around you, with Megumi and Tsumiki’s warmth on you, Satoshi’s warm small hands on your own — you knew that you will live on happily. You could survive anything, if you have them. You could live in their solace.

As tears slowly dried on your cheeks, you knew that life was a series of fleeting moments, but it was these moments of connection and intimacy that made it all worthwhile. You held onto Satoru and the kids a little tighter, grateful for the love that anchored you in a world that often felt uncertain. You will be alright, that was for sure.

Everything will be alright, you knew that well enough.

You couldn’t wait to see what could be in the future.

You couldn’t wait to grow old with the love of your life.

You couldn’t wait to see your kids grow up happily.

epilogue

november, 2018;

Fushiguro Megumi stood at the gates of Jujutsu High, his heart heavy with the weight of recent events. Shibuya had left its mark on him, both physically and emotionally, and now he found himself back at the place where it all began. But now there are other worries, other concerns that need him. He didn’t come and see you, because he knew you would forbid him from being in danger. And he can’t stop himself. He had to do what he could. Now, more than ever.

His purpose for coming back here, even though it was dangerous, was clear—to retrieve some of his belongings before disappearing into hiding. Before he finds Itadori, he had to get some things here, ones that were needed for survival.

With determined steps, he made his way to Gojo–sensei’s office, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The door creaked open, revealing a room frozen in time—a testament to the chaos that had engulfed their world.

His blue-green eyes fell upon the photo album, sitting on Gojo–sensei’s desk, untouched since that day, since October 31st. He purses his lips as he thinks about it. Should he go? He tried to stop himself, but he knew he couldn’t. He missed him. Megumi knew he did. But he didn’t want to say it out loud.

Because it wouldn’t be easy. He wouldn’t be able to move forward with what had to be done. Still, he needed some comfort. He needed some relief. To know what it was like to have known that man, that man who had raised him.

Megumi approached the room slowly, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. He gulped, his throat tight with emotion, before twisting the door open. Gojo-sensei's room stood before him, a sanctuary untouched by the chaos that had engulfed the rest of the world.

The air was heavy with the scent of incense, mingling with the faint aroma of coffee—a comforting presence that wrapped around Megumi like a warm embrace. He stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room, taking in every detail—the neatly arranged shelves, the piles of books stacked haphazardly on the desk, the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the curtains.

Gojo-sensei never really locked his room. Because people knew not to go in. It was only for him, this sanctuary. Not even the higher-ups had the courage to intrude upon his private space. Not even when they had attacked Jujutsu High awhile ago. And so since then, since he had been taken by others from Megumi, from the world that adored him —Gojo Satoru’s office had no occupants.

Megum took small careful strides as hei moved forward, careful not to alert anyone of his presence in the premises. He pauses for a moment. He sighed as he let his hand reach out to touch the smooth surface of the desk. And there, nestled among a stack of papers, paperwork that man refused to ever do without you, Megumi found it—the scrapbook he and Tsumiki had given you and Gojo–sensei all those years ago.

As he gingerly lifted the scrapbook from its place, a rush of memories flooded his mind. He remembered the countless hours spent carefully selecting photos, writing heartfelt messages, and crafting each page with love and care. It had been a labor of love from him and Tsumiki, to you and Gojo–sensei.

As he flipped through the pages, the images leaped out at him like ghosts from another worldly plane—smiling faces frozen in time, laughter echoing through the halls of that house, moments of triumph and joy captured forever in glossy photographs. Each page told a story, a snapshot of their journey together, and as Fushiguro Megumi traced his fingers over the familiar images, he couldn't help but feel a swell of emotion in his chest.

It was a reminder of the family they had built years ago, in a home that was filled with tenderness—a bond forged not by blood, but by shared experiences, shared hardships, and shared dreams. And as Megumi held the scrapbook in his hands, he knew that no matter where life took him, these memories would always be his anchor, grounding him.

With a sense of reverence, he tucked the scrapbook under his arm, knowing that it was all he could have of his family right now. And as he left Gojo-sensei's room behind him, he knew whatever was going to come was not going to be easy. But he had this. Until you all met again, this would be enough. Until he had his family again, he wouldn't stop at nothing. He won’t let those people, those evil people, rob him of his family ever again.

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unabashednightmarepizza · 1 year

Text

𝐿𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝐴 𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑊ℎ𝑜…

A/N: Not gonna lie, my eyes might have shed a tear or so at the "like a parent who..." parts, I got emotional...

Pairings: Archons x Creator!Parentalfigure!Reader

Everyone often thought as the hunted down, true Creator of Teyvat, you would punish people for their crimes against them.

The people, almost everyone in every nation except some (those who were favoured by you later on), hunted you and tortured you beyond comprehension. Especially the Archons who were decieved by the False One, so easily they fell prey to "Their" clutches when they prided themselves to be the closest, most loyal to You, their Creator.

Yet, they were also the ones who committed the worst sin.

They never expected to see you in their land once again, happy and cheerfully eating while gazing at the horizon. Not when a harsh punishment to them and their people was expected from You, not when they got ready to beg for forgiveness for their people, for you to have mercy on them even if they didn't show the same one to you.

And perhaps, your anger and wrath was better than your kindness, for their heart and very existence clenched painfully inside them, threatened to swallow them whole with the cold and relentless darkness seeping inside them as they were harshly slapped back with what they had done to Their True Creator and how They were treating Their Creations.

With kindness and love, tenderness they once felt in the Heavenly Grounds as they all sat around You and talked, ate together, basked in your love as each of them tried to make You smile and give affection to each of them, pat their heads softly and just be there for them...

Unlike the False One who only demands, is harsh and devoid of the warmth you had.

And even then... They are unable to notice the True One they always loved and will always do.

Out of anything Venti thought to see today, seeing you in the Angel's Share drinking the dandelion wine he made people to produce in your name (since it was a favourite of yours back when everything was fine and enjoyed a drink at the balcony of your Holy Chamber with him seated next to you) and inviting him over for one wasn't on the list. He didn't expect to be sitting next to your holy body, looking dumbfounded yet also still smiling with tears in his big eyes as you told him that you wouldn't neither abandon nor punish him or his people.

And he certainly didn't expect to be hugged by you after so so long, after being deprived off of the feeling of home, clutching on your robes thightly with a promise to never let go and doubt you again and wailing like a baby as you comforted him with his face buried in your neck, babbling about how he was so guilty, how he thought he lost You for eternity...

Like a parent whose child wanted to get away from their strict parent, thinking the outside world was better, that their parent was just overexaggerating. Like a parent comforting their child who was lost on the way after they realized how right their parent was, yet found themselves again by the parent who gave them another sense of freedom to soar.

Out of any place, Zhongli never expected to see you in his private residence drinking some tea and preparing some snacks to bring for him to eat. He never thought he would see the day you wore such casual clothes, hair messily up in bun as your holy hands were covered with flour. As the eldest, he was able to see your every form and every new hobby you would get. Knitting? Braiding hair? Sewing? Sword fighting? Bird watching? Playing with the kids and dragging him to play the prince that saved the princess? You name it and he would start to list all the day to you, when you first started to do them as you laughed and patted his horn affectionately- he would never tell this to anyone, but you as the Divine Creator, were the only one he was fine with them being touched. Not that he had a choice to him, at least. He knows if you heard that, you would have his head-

But as much as he was seen as a war hero, someone that saved and protected people... He failed to protect the one being he swore his existence to, who died and suffered at his hands, begging to be spared as if he was the Deity that gave him life, as if he was more mighty than You.

What kind of a devotee, of a god he was? How could he do such a mistake-

But, the one who he thought was mad at him, at them, and were punishing them with their absence was right there. Bringing him his tea just the way he liked it, some food he loved eating with Them centuries ago as you pointed to the empty seat and sat down yourself right in front of him as he couldn't help but stare at you with a slacked jaw, at how easily you smiled at him just like you used to, praising him for his excellent choice of tea and spices.

Like a parent seeing the inner struggle of their child and being silently there for them, tell them that no matter what, they would be there in the end and protect them from their own harsh mind.

Out of any place, Ei never thought she would see you offering her dango as you stared at your statue, the statue where she put all the visions she got after the Vision Hunting, with a frown. It used to be such a joy for her to look at it, thinking she was doing the right thing just as Makoto and her Creator would have wanted. The day she first lost her Creator, with absolutely no one knowing what happened to Them, was so full of despair. She didn't know what to do, her twin didn't know what to do, all they had ever known was you and all they knew about ruling and capturing the hearts of your people was from you. She felt... abandoned, a feeling she would later inflict on her own son unknowingly, but she still had her sister with herself so that must at least mean that you would be back to help them out, right?

She wasn't expecting to loose her friends and her dear sister, at all.

That was the turning point in her destiny, one that led to madness and obsession. She might have given her people order, and discipline in a land where they can protect and be there for their loved ones, where they could reach eternity together and give visions to strike down anyone who dared to take it from them but...

Now, as she looked back at her past and the statue, the one on whose name she committed crimes for... She only remembered her fight with the Traveller and how you had come to protect them, with the same face as the "sinner" she once killed, and showed her the true way.

That statue was only the painful and disturbing reminder of who she was, and how she had killed the Creator she worshipped above anything because she was deceived and blinded, and how They still came to show her the right path, how you gently caressed and helped the Traveller, someone out of this world...

And now, those same gentle hands that once were outstretched towards her for help, for her to listen to Them but she refused as You choked on the air and golden blood... They were rubbing her face, patting her purple hair as You pressed her face to your neck where your pulse was beating under the skin, alive and comforting her like a parent whose child were hard to deal with, rebellious yet just as worthy of love, confused at the world ahead of them and turning to look at their parent for guidance only to see them pushing from their back to a brighter future, where they stand for eternity just so that their child could look back to see how far they would come.

They never expected to be the witness of such unconditional and pure love, forgiving them so... easily.

Why, they all asked with tears in their eyes and bowing down in front of your relaxed form so deeply their foreheads touched the ground, shoulders stiff yet body shaking because of the sobs that wrecked their bodies. How can you forgive us so easily?

A soft smile from you as you helped them up and wiped their faces clean with a fleeting touch, like a parent calming their baby down from the overwhelming first emotions they would feel.

"What kind of a Creator would I be, if I didn't forgive?"

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theriu · 1 month

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We had an exciting visitor this week! My niece and nephews discovered this lost homing pigeon at my parents' alpaca farm, so they called me to help because I have a slight history with rescuing birbs. Mom gave it food and water and kept it in a dog kennel overnight (it was very very hungry!) We tried releasing it the next day since the tag suggested it was a racing pigeon, but it didn't seem to know what to do, so we brought it back in.

(Trying to help me with my editing, to limited success.)

But, happy day, I was able to contact the national pigeon racing organization signified on its legband, and they got me in touch with the area chapter referenced by the legband code, and HE got me in touch with the owner! The owner said this little guy was very young and got scared off by a hawk attack about a week ago (which explains the very small, healed-over scab on his neck). And he is from over an hour's drive south of here! We were both surprised he wandered that far! The owner was SUPER appreciative that we took care of him and made the effort to find the owner, and lo and behold, there is a pigeon auction he had been considering attending IN MY TOWN, so he asked if we could take care of it until this Saturday! All of us were super jazzed at this happy ending and I volunteered to keep the bird until then.

Also, when I asked the bird's name, he said it didn't have one yet. My niece was DELIGHTED when he said it would now be called by her name suggestion, Pedro! :D

Anyhoo, I took him to my house since I have dove food. He is very nervous and baby, but I have been loving on him to help keep him used to peoples. And my doves have been surprisingly accomodating (only going after him if he tries to land on their cage)!

(Compared to the doves he is a BIG BOY)

And all of this has also led to one of my new favorite bird pictures I have ever taken:

Pogo Stick Pedro

#river rambles #river's pets #river pets #doves #pigeons #rescues

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starryficsfinishwen · 15 days

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── .✦ doomsday game ; xiangli yao x reader

if the world was ending, would you love me for the hell of it? syn. if, theoretically, the world were to end today, what would you do? if you ask xiangli yao, he wouldn't mind spending the last days on earth with you.

*inspired by 4* zayne card with the same name (love and deepspace)

a.n. - oh god he corrupts me I love him. HAPPY RELEASE DAY XIANGLI YAO!!! As an honor for getting his weap, for now being guaranteed (my S1 Xiangli Yao is glacio and short??), I GIVE THIS FIC AS MY THANK YOU. ALSOHAHSHSHSHS I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED THE WRONG FIC IM SORRY BUT HERE IT IS

pairing - xiangli yao x f!rover

words - will edit when I switch to lappy

content warnings - none!! major fluff!! also pre-established relationship

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Potent rumors often plant seeds of disbelief.

It often came as a small white lie, an utterance between two consenting parties. When it reaches the leeching tongue of the birds, they fall to the ground, sprouting things that are weeds to the truth. If left alone, they would deter nature's course.

For example, the rumors somewhat turned into some prophecy— “the world is ending soon”.

How does it end? They say it's a global snowstorm. Maybe another global flood. A supernova collision. No, they definitely said it was an onslaught of active volcanoes erupting to create a flood of lava. Or maybe, some Sentinel wished for immense havoc, with its god-like power awakening to slaughter everything in its path.

However, for scientists like Xiangli Yao, all those claims seem comical.

“The world is ending soon?” A fellow scientist slaps his own knee, “That's complete bull!”

In the middle of the long table of the Academy, what was once a flickering 3D map of Jinzhou was temporarily dimmed; instead, a couple of scientists had gathered, playing cards for their breaktime.

“I know, right? It's too funny; they really think the world is ending so soon.”

One of them throws the card, a chorus of laughter.

“My findings say otherwise,” said a cocky researcher, “The fluctuations isn't very severe. We can live to see another millennia here in our world!”

“The plants and people are still alive and well.” The glimmer of a card catches everyone else's attention, “Very far from the truth indeed.”

One scientist lets out an indignant huff, “But how did they even reach that conclusion? Do they have the data?”

The group pauses for a bit. Some bit their lip, another shuffled their cards, and the other couldn't help but sigh. “Um, proof or not, I think they are still sprouting nonsense.” Muttered the first scientist.

Another eerie silence envelops them. Until one of them throws a card at the center. “The tacet marks have been spreading nonstop...”

They throw another. “TD's are also unstable, giving a major interference to the once-natural resonance cords.”

And when he throws the last trump card, almost all of the players had a grim look on their face. “We are merely just a few months recovering from the Retroact Rain. Our soldiers cannot handle another catastrophe!!”

With a trembling shout from the scientist, everyone else near the group stopped on their tracks. Noticing that the attention was on him, the poor scientist slides back to his chair, embarrassed. Even the ones he was playing with had a gloomy face.

“...Not to diminish our pride but...who knows...what happens to Jinzhou...not to mention our Sentinel and Magistrate...”

“That's understandable. The evidences speak for themselves.”

All eyes are on the man who spoke after a long while. Between the dim lights of the Academy's hall and his slow steps, his versicolored eyes glimmers brightly than ever.

“I understand your concerns, Ray,” Xiangli Yao reaches out to pat the forlorn scientist by his shoulder, “We are merely at the recovery stage for Jinzhou, yet our nation has been going through too many things already.”

Amethyst eyes wander among the resonance cords on the screen. They catch a familiar face of a person, one that made his own heart skip a beat.

“However, Jinzhou still stands until today. We cannot say the exact date for the end of the world—it could be today, tomorrow, or another millennium—but as long as we are still here to see the flowers blooming or the children laughing, then why should we stop today?”

A roar of cheers erupts throughout the hall. The lamenting scientist sniffles in joy. Yet the Principal Investigator couldn't look away from the certain figure of a girl.

“But if the world were to end soon,” muttered a nearby scientist, causing Xiangli Yao to glance at him, “Hmm...I wonder where I'll go.”

Without a clear future in mind, and you, the Rover, who only woke up just now—the thought is scary. If, indeed, the world was ending soon, then what happens next? What happens to you?

The cats have been meowing nonstop.

As if sensing the air, they were pawing at your ankles, as if trying to catch your attention. One, two, three- maybe even five- cats trying to catch your attention.

Picking the white one, who was the one visibly stressed, you coo her as you scratched the back of her ear.

“What's wrong, hm?” You playfully kissed the cat's cheek, “Was the food not enough for you? If I overfeed you, Mr. Investigator will have to put you on another diet.”

Somehow understanding you, the cat gently pushes you off of their face with their paws, meowing.

“Hey, I'm telling the truth! As much as it hurts my poor heart, I can't feed you again today...”

“...I suppose you can allow them,” pipped a familiar voice, “They do look awfully thin.”

Nearly spilling the cat off of your arms, you squeak as you turn to meet a smiling Xiangli Yao. “M-Mr. Investigator?!”

“It's the first time you've addressed me by my title, Ms. Rover,” He teases, opting to carry the black cat on your feet, “I suppose our relationship is back to being professional?”

“The cats seem to know you more like that,” you emphasized, “Mr. Principal Investigator.”

He laughs—a tender laugh, it makes your heart squeeze—that it makes you pout. “I suppose that is right. Consider it a working place, then.”

Xiangli Yao stands next to you, holding out the black cat as it meows. With a funny thought, you ask, “Did you even know why they approached you in the first place?”

“Is it because I feed them?”

“No,” You playfully stuck out your tongue at him, “They say it's because it's to ward off bad spirits.”

Xiangli Yao goes silent, before looking at the cat, then back to you. “Hmm. I suppose I should stay away from you?”

Ultimately backfired. The joke goes back to you. With a dramatic gasp, you shrug. “Seeing as the cats was the one who approached me today, I think it's you who should go away for now.”

Freely laughing onto the summer air, the cats' meows intertwine with the yours. It's like any other workday— Xiangli Yao leaves mid-afternoon from work to meet and feed the cats, walking elsewhere until he's comfortable enough to go and finish his work.

It's only been a few weeks since a new addition to his itinerary: you. Now, every afternoon, the cats would find themselves carried by the warm sunlight; and you, taking care of them before him, drenched in sunset glow.

Like now, Xiangli Yao notes. But the thoughts were far too tempting. He takes a dive in them.

“So, Mr. Investigator,” you asked as you found yourselves by the stalls, nudging him softly, “where to next?”

The cats slowly left as soon as your walks stretched farther than usual. You were too nice to disturb Xiangli Yao, when he was far too absorbed in his thoughts.

“...Ah,” He purses his lips, slowly stopping in his steps, “I'm sorry, Rover. I hadn't realized we've gone this far.”

The streets decorated with the loud and bursting stalls sound in the background. Yet in the midst of it all, Xiangli Yao is silent as ever, his robotic hand over his lips, eyebrows furrowed. You think it's cute, from the curve of his pout, but you quickly shake it off.

“No worries at all. But you look like you have a lot on your mind, maybe you want to share them?”

Xiangli Yao looks at you. Behind you, the sun in Jinzhou has never set—bathing you in its reverberating halo, casting an ethereal glow. With his heart skipping a beat, he looks away with a sigh.

“...[Y/N],” every syllable of your name sounds too foreign for him, yet too holy, “Would you...like to come and stay with me for now?”

“Of course,” You smile, “Where do you want to go, Xiangli?”

His face remains serious as he speaks. “My house.”

“...I'm sorry?”

Going to Xiangli Yao's house was something you've never expected.

Sure, you often get invitations to visit your friends' houses once in a while. But it seems different when someone like Xiangli Yao asks you to go home with me.

Wait. With a mental slap, you scold yourself. Why do you feel different when it's with Xiangli Yao? Was there something about him? Watching unfocused amethyst eyes seems to make you worry. You were definitely not feeling something, right?

Unless?

“Is there anything else you'd like?” Xiangli Yao pops up from his kitchen, carrying a plate full of snacks in one arm and drinks in another, “I'm sorry, these are some of the food I could make.”

“It's okay, I'm more than happy to already taste what you make!” You said as you rush to help him.

But as you are about to take the plates, you couldn't help but gasp.

“Oh, does my hand scare you?”

Instead of the usual robotic hand you've grown accustomed to, it had morphed into a larger metal plate, to fit the two plates.

“No!” You shake your head with a laugh, “It's just the first time I've seen it like this. Does it change back?”

By the time the plates are on the table, Xiangli Yao twists his robotic hand (plate?), popping it out of the socket. “It does. Let me get it.”

“Do you...” Watching him scurry, you pick up a chip from the plate, “...need a hand?”

A resounding clang! echoes back to you. It takes a while before he returns to the room, rolling his hand as he grins. “I believe it's back in its proper place.”

Still the same stupid jokes that make you cackle. Eventually, you both settle down. The afternoon telenovela plays on the TV. Finally settled to sit on the ground instead of the chair, you end up picking the savory chips, munching as you devotedly watch the scenes in front of you. You don't even bat an eye even as you feel Xiangli Yao sits next to you. Silence. But a good kind.

How long have you known Xiangli Yao again? Whatever you both do, you're still content with each other's company. From the corner of your eye, you notice his gaze firmly on the TV, empty hands hair's breadth away.

“The Moonlit Fair,” you said slowly after a comfortable silence, “now that it's over, are you back to your usual work?”

He hums. “Depends how you define "usual work".”

“Metalwork and other groundbreaking discoveries.”

You bring your knees close to your face, resting your head so you could comfortably turn to see Xiangli Yao's face. Chromatic colors paint the neutral look on his face. Yet when he turns, a pretty smile replaces it.

“The field of science is only a curiosity away,” he pipes, mimicking your pose, “That's always something I've been doing, even before the start of the Moonlit Fair.”

This goody-two-shoes prodigy has always been the talk of the town. Even in Huaxu Academy, even from Mortefi's mouth, he is long lauded as someone who easily creates breakthroughs.

“I'm jealous.” You admit, sighing, “You can easily create new things.”

“That's not true.”

“Ah, I guess I can say with pride that I often help people, too.”

“However you may say it, it doesn't erase the fact that you are doing so much more than you think.” He said, “You're the mysterious Rover. You have lost memories related to this city. And from what I've heard, you hold so much history.”

He reaches out, human hand hesitating to touch your face. With a fleeting downcast gaze, he ends up booping your cheek. It makes you flinch from surprise.

“...I should be the one jealous of you, if that's the case, [Y/N].” His smile causes his eyes to close, a genuine look on his face, “You've done many incredible things that are worthy rather than simple praises.”

Did Xiangli Yao ever look this pretty before? Soft skin and amethyst irises through fluttering lashes. You wish you could brush away the hair that covers his eyes. Carefree, kissable lips. Wait—you cough, looking awau to hide the blush tinting your cheeks.

“Please, stop flattering me. I might end up bursting a hole in your roof.”

“I'll be sure to let Xiang-LEE and Patty fix that.”

A ticklish giggle escapes your lips as you turn back to see him. “Please leave my kids alone, you have overworked them during the festival.”

“...Please don't worry,” he shrugs, chuckling, “They'll be granted a paid vacation anyways.”

Seeing as the telenovela has lost its charm, and the poor food in front of you could go to waste, and maybe not wanting to end the fun yet, you decide to test your waters.

“Xiangli,” you said, noticing how he perked his head at the mention of his name, “I want to play a game.”

“An electronic one again?”

“No,” you shake your head, “Truth or Dare.”

Xiangli Yao laughs. “Oh, I didn't know you were into childish games like that.”

“I'm curious about you, and I'm sure you feel the same way.” You point out, “What's a better way than to play a game?”

“You could have asked and I wouldn't mind answering, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you sit up straight, grinning, “Truth or Dare?”

Xiangli Yao mirrors you. “Already?”

“Pick already, or I might change my mind.”

“Hmm...Dare.”

Suppose your afternoon would be so different. A few chugs of the drinks, greedy hoarding of chips, spent markers, and random doodles later, you find yourself dressed in one of his lab coats with a clip of some of his IDs, and him in the flashiest shirt. The laughter has long strained your lips but it still ends up being the sweetest you've ever tasted. Apart from that, the glow in Xiangli Yao's face is also different, one that makes your heart skip faster.

“You've what?”

Xiangli Yao laughs a little too loudly. “A mini mouse that would greet anyone who opens the door. Mortefi was the first victim, because I didn't know he was deathly afraid of mice.”

The mental image of Mortefi from Xiangli Yao's prank comes abruptly that it causes you to match the latter's laughter—hollering until your back finds the sofa, slapping the carpet.

“Oh my God,” you wheeze, “It's not even a surprise why he hates you even more!”

Xiangli Yao wipes a tear from his eye, sparkly eyeshadow slightly staining his cheeks, “I bought him some coffee to apologize, but the joke hadn't died down for weeks.”

He finds himself sitting closely with you now, head against the sofa. With a little of your mingling laughter in the air, he couldn't help but watch as your fits of laughter continued, albeit a little softer. Through your literal rose-colored lenses, did you see the world like that, too?

“It's my turn now, right?” You ask, your shoulders an aftershock from your laughter.

“Mm,” he nods, “Have you run out already?”

“No, never!”

“Alright, since I've been picking dares for a while. I'll go with truth.”

“Have you ever heard of the rumors?” You begin, laughter dying down, as you take a bite from the chip. “That the world is "ending soon"?��

Xiangli Yao freezes. So you've heard. It's no surprise as it already made a turmoil between the scientists in Huaxu Academy. Yet the dread somehow comes creeping back to him.

“If, theoretically, the world were to end today,” you slowly speak, carefully choosing the words, “In a few hours or so. What would you do?”

What would he do? A tricky question. But a calid one at that. “The end of the world wouldn't happen so abruptly.”

“Mm, yeah, but I am curious about your answer.”

What would Xiangli Yao do? And somehow, the dimming living room feels so small, the only light source was a forgotten TV color palette. When he looks at you, your doe eyes sparkle in the darkness. The closeness of your bodies, the fleeting smell of spring on your shoulder, with a hint of him.

“Well...” He slides down to the floor, patting the space beside him, “I'll let you know if you lay here with me.”

“Are you sure there are no pranks here?”

“I'm honest.”

You eventually follow his words, so you could meet the level of his eyes. Watching the glow of his inspiration-filled eyes, they somehow make you smile.

“I heard all about it when my colleagues were playing a game during break time.” Xiangli Yao begins, “Some claim it's not true, but there have been others who believe it's so soon.”

“What do you think?”

He looks away, opting to stare at the ceiling above. You follow his sight, unaware of what was next.

“I don't know.” He says truthfully, robotic hand pointing upward, “With everything that has happened, no one else can predict it.”

“Even a knowledgeable scientist like you?”

He glances at you. “Even a knowledgeable scientist like me.”

He looks back to where his hand points. Casting a power, a small purple cube dances in his robotic hand, knowing that you were watching so intently.

“But if the world were to end today, then I wouldn't mind spending the day with the cats I feed.”

The cube glows brightly, floating so freely in his hand. A flash of scenes play through its squares, too fast to see, yet too slow to be noticed.

“I wouldn't mind having the TV on, sitting on the floor with snacks all over, even though there's a perfectly good sofa.”

He hears your small laugh, which makes him smile. The cube falls to his chest, where it travels all the way to you.

“I wouldn't mind spending the last hours playing Truth or Dare, with someone who's extraordinary.”

This time, Xiangli Yao looks at you. Wide-eyed and speechless, from the way the cube touches your outstretched hand, watching the faint glow of the halo on your own body. If the world were to end, he wouldn't get tired of watching this view; watching the rise and fall of your chest as you stare in awe, calloused hands tenderly watching over his own work of art, knowing that there'll never be another you if the world were to end.

Knowing that he's long been blessed to exist in the world where you are in it.

“I think I wouldn't mind spending the last hours on Solaris-3 with you, [Y/N].”

The cube pops, a sprinkle of glitter all over your body. Glancing, your heart throbs loudly in your chest, as you heard his confession.

How did this happen again? You were merely friends with the scientist. After the successful Moonlit Fair, you often find yourself bumping into him, simple errands and impromptu hang outs when you do. Watching Xiangli Yao in his humble abode, the telenovela a white noise, and the shade of colors lighting his face—have you ever seen him more than a friend?

“Xiangli Yao,” you breathe, which made him freeze, “you...”

He smiles. “I'm not rushing to know your answer. I am merely stating the facts.”

A good friend. But now you figured out why that rubs you off the wrong way. You have always known the answer to your feelings.

“[Y/N],” Even the way Xiangli Yao speaks your name, a softer one, where in the world they called you "Rover", he calls you differently.

“[Y/N],” Reaching out, his human hand finds a strand of your hair, gently pulling it to his lips. “[Y/N],”

Xiangli Yao calls your name, one that makes you throb.

“If, theoretically,” he repeats the question you asked before, “the world does end today, what will you do?”

In a world where your memories are lost in the ripples of time and reverberation. You had the same answer.

“...I wouldn't mind spending it with a certain scientist.” You smile, watching him mirror yours, “I wouldn't mind spending it with you, Xiangli Yao.”

“[Y/N]...”

“Xiangli,” you reach out to cup his cheek, to which he closes his eyes to snuggle to the warmth, “Xiangli, you're like the cats.”

“Then will you ever mind if I could hold on to you?”

Weary arms find themselves asking for yours. And like you, touch-starved for his own touch, lean onto him, the smell of spring and that you could forget the world.

“...I would,” you said, and you do mean it, “I'll hold onto you, Xiangli.”

Oh god pls let me have him irl too

don't forget to like, comment, share, and reblog!!

— starry

#wuthering waves #wuthering waves xiangli yao #xiangli yao #xiangli yao x reader #wuwa xiangli yao #wuwa #wuthering waves imagines

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