#it's the sheer feeling of understanding and reflection

[osunari]

⚠︎ s i l e n t t e m p t a t i o n s ( 18+ )

—ch.5

➤ s t a r t

Mr. crawling x MC

— h o m i c i p h e r 𒌧

"Human Emotions”

The previous mishaps marked a turning point in your journey, revealing the horrifying consequences of the curse and the bloodthirsty state it provokes.

Remembering the time you lost control and succumbed to the primal urge to kill, mr. machete was forced to draw his blade. Though his decision seemed cold, it was the only way to stop you from unleashing destruction—not just on him but on everything around. His actions, however brutal, carried an undercurrent of conflict.

Killing you wasn't anything about hatred or punishment but about halting the spread of the darkness consuming you. In a place like this, survival never bothered to leave room for sentimentality.

What had made this revelation even more chilling is the cycle it implies. As your memories fade like old scars, the curse doesn't just hollow you out—it strips away every trace of humanity, leaving behind the raw instincts of the killer you once were. Never not a simple transformation, but a distortion of identity. The urge to kill is all that remained, as if the curse thrives on feeding the worst parts of you. The truth finally exposed; every time the bloodlust takes over, someone must intervene to "reset" you through none other but death. The dark process becoming a twisted means of survival, forcing those around you to make impossible choices.

For mr. machete, this act of "mercy" carried its own weight. Despite his stoic demeanor, the act of killing you hinted at an internal struggle—one he hides beneath his scarred and bandaged exterior, masking any emotion that he failed to suppress. Through deep analysis, you began to realize that his past actions, even his first violent encounter with you, were not random acts of aggression but calculated measures to protect you from something far worse; yourself. His quiet resilience in the face of such moral ambiguity revealed that he may not just be a companion in this cursed world but someone who understands its horrors better than a few at least.

The world felt brand new, free of the gnawing dread that had once consumed you. Your skin glowed with a warmth you hadn’t felt in what seemed like eons, your reflection no longer a haunting specter of decay but a vision of vitality. Your hair was sleek, strands flowing with a softness that caught the faint glimmer of the ghostly light around you. It was as if someone had pressed a reset button on your very existence, erasing the physical signs of corruption that had once taken over. You moved cautiously, your hands trembling slightly, not from weakness, but from the sheer disbelief of feeling whole again. For the first time in a while, the weight of despair didn’t feel like it was crushing your chest.

But despite the warmth of your newfound state, memories from before lingered on the edge of your mind. You couldn’t erase them—the bloodthirsty haze, the loss of control, and the moment mr. machete had been forced to strike you down. The image of his weapon glinting in the faint light before it pierced through you replayed in your head, and you shuddered. I really did die, you thought. And yet, here I am, alive… better… human again. But at what cost? The curse had reset you, as if wiping a slate clean, but it didn’t erase the growing fear that this new clarity wouldn’t last.

. . .

The creak of a door broke through mr. silvair’s territory. You looked up, and there stood mr. silvair, his calm demeanor faltering ever so slightly as his gaze swept over you. His usual confidence gave way to a flicker of astonishment, a brief widening of his sharp covered eyes before he spoke. “几ㄩ(you) . . . 几ㄩ(you) 乃乂几ㄚ千(healthy) !” he murmured, stepping closer, his crimson-tipped syringe forgotten in his hand. He hesitated as if unsure whether to come closer, his gaze shifting between awe and curiosity.

You opened your mouth to respond but stopped as you noticed a familiar severed head perched on a nearby counter. Mr. chopped’s expressive eyes lit up, his voice cutting through the tension with playful disbelief. “几ㄚ(my) ㄚ乃ㄩ乇(woman) ! ! 几乇(me) ㄚ几乃(miss) 几ㄩ(you) !” he exclaimed. “几ㄩ(you) 丂匚ㄚ乙(beautiful) , 几ㄚ(me) 卩ㄥ几(like) !”

The sight of him ignited something within you—a surge of joy and relief that propelled you forward without thought. “Chopped!” you cried, rushing past mr. silvair. The sound of your feet on the floor filled the room as you scooped the severed head into your arms, holding him close. “Me miss you! Me like you too!” Your voice cracked slightly, the emotion catching you off guard. It had been far too long since you’d felt anything this pure, this simple.

Mr. chopped chuckled, his tone teasing but warm. “几ㄩ(you) 乃乙ㄩ(touch) 乇乂(me) ! ! 几乙(maybe) 几ㄩ(you) 乃匚ㄩ(want) 乃尺几ㄩ丂几(marry) 乇乂(me) ?” You laughed, the sound so unfamiliar that it startled even you. “You cute, so cute!” you said while pinching his puffed cheeks, dodging his question. “几ㄚ(me) 几乃尺(want) 尺几(be) 乙ㄩ(with) 几ㄩ(you) ! 乇乂(me) ㄩ丂几(wait) !” For now, you just wanted to revel in the reunion, to push aside the lingering questions and simply exist in this moment.

From behind, mr. silvair approached with quiet fascination. He watched your interaction with mr. chopped, his usually cold gaze softening as he observed the genuine happiness on your face. Gently, he reached out and twirled a lock of your hair between his gloved fingers. “ㄚㄩ爪乇(soft) .” he muttered, almost to himself, before letting the strand fall back. “几ㄩ卄(i see) 几ㄩ(you) ㄚ乃ㄩㄚ(found) 丂几卂ㄩ(answers) .” he said, his tone warmer than you were used to. His smile, though faint, was genuine.

You nodded, offering a small smile in return. “Indeed.” you said softly.

“乃ㄚ尺(good) . 几ㄚ(me) ㄚ乃几ㄩ尺 (happy) .” he murmured, reaching out to ruffle your hair in a gesture that was surprisingly comforting. “几ㄩ(you) 乃乂几ㄚ千(healthy)  .” Mr. silvair had been hovering for a while, watching the two of you with a knowing, but unreadable expression. He adjusted his glasses, cleared his throat, and smiled, though there was a hint of concern in his eyes. “几ㄚ(me) 丨ㄒ(in) 乃千(the) 山ㄚ卂(way) . . ?” he remarked in a tease, his gaze flicking between you and the severed head in your arms. “几ㄚ(me) 卩山几乂(leave) 几ㄩ(you) 丂乙ㄚ乂(both) 几乂丂乙(alone) .”

Before you could respond, he stepped toward the door, pausing for a moment. “ㄚ乃(no) ㄩㄖ卩爪ㄒ(pressure) .” he said, offering a faint smile as he opened the door. “几卩ㄥㄒ(take) ㄩ几(your) 尺卂ㄚ乃(time) .” With that, mr. silvair left, closing the door behind him. The room suddenly felt quieter, the tension that had been lingering between you and mr. chopped now almost palpable.

The two of you sat in the soft silence for a moment. The absence of his male companion instantly turned him into a huge orange ball of shyness, unable to show the same excitement as he did earlier now that his vulnerable side was exposed to your dominant ones. You noticed his cute flushed state as he laid peacefully against your soft lap—eventually deciding to ruin it by picking him up and cradling him close to your chest, closer to your beating heart. Despite the occasional flicker of uncertainty in the air, it was oddly comforting as you started to notice his shyness slowly melt away.

“几ㄚ(me) ㄚ山爪乃(like) . 几ㄚ(me) ㄚ山爪乃(like) 卂ㄒ乃ㄚ(a lot) !” he said, his voice breaking the elongated silence. “几ㄚ(me) 乃ㄚ乙(need) 几ㄩㄚ(more) 卂山ㄚㄒ(touch) , 几ㄚ(me) ㄚ山爪乃(like) 几ㄩ(your) 卂山ㄚㄒ(touch) ! . .”

Mr. chopped turned his head toward you, his orange braid swaying slightly as he did. He gave you a soft look, his eyes unreadable but softening as he did. “乃ㄚㄩ(with) 几ㄩ(you) , 几��(me) ㄚ乃卩ㄖ几(happy) !” His usual sharp, straightforward demeanor seemed to soften in the quiet of the room, almost like he was allowing himself a moment of peace—away from all the other lurkers which he hid a side of him from.

. . .

In the dim corridors of the ghostly apartment, a faint sound of weeping echoed. Its high-pitch would lead anyone to think it could belong to that of a small weeping child—but in reality, it was someone far from small. It led to an empty cabinet tucked away in a forgotten corner of the building, its doors rattling slightly with each shuddering sob. Inside, twisted and contorted in ways that defied logic, was none other but your hurt loyal companion. His lanky frame folded over itself as he wept uncontrollably, his jagged teeth clenched together in anguish.

He clutched his head with his elongated fingers, shaking it back and forth as though trying to dispel the dark thoughts clouding his mind. “几ㄚ(me) 乃乙ㄩ(slow) , 几ㄚ(me) 乃乙ㄩ(slow) . ! 几ㄚ(me) 山丂乙几爪(useless) . .” he muttered to himself, his voice cracking. “几ㄚ(me) ㄚ乙ㄩ(fail) 乇尺千ㄚ(protect) .” The thought of you out there; hurt, lost, or worse—gnawed at him relentlessly. It had been two days since he’d last seen you, every second feelinh like a dagger to his heart.

Images of you flashed through his mind—the way your genuine smile would comfort him in any given situation, the way you mimicked their language in the most broken way possible, and the memorable moments you two had shared together. Just as a smile could creep up to his face, darker memories crept in; the way you had looked at him during your last encounter, the anger in your voice, the distance between you. “ㄚ乃(she) 卩几爪ㄩ(hate) 几ㄚ(me) . .” he whispered in a cry. “ㄚ乃(she) 乃几(no) 乃乙ㄚ丂(accept) 几ㄚ(me) 山尺千ㄩ(apology) . .”

The thought of you hating him was unbearable. But worse was the fear that you might be gone. What if mr. hugeface had taken you? What if mr. scarletella’s selfish tendencies had claimed you as his own? The possibilities clawed at him, his overthinking spiraling into a pit of despair. He curled tighter into himself, his lanky frame trembling as the cabinet creaked under the strain.

“几乇(me) 丂ㄚㄒ卩(sorry) . 几乇(me) 丂ㄚㄒ卩(sorry) .” he whispered to the empty air. “几乇(me) 几ㄩ卩(want) 几ㄩ(you) 乃ﾌㄖ(back) . .”

. . .

The halls of the ghost hotel stretched endlessly before you, dimly lit by faint, flickering lights that lined the walls. It wasn’t a place you’d expect to find solace, but somehow, you felt a lightness in your step today. The goodbyes with mr. chopped had been heartfelt, though tinged with sadness, you left mr. silvair’s territory with an odd sense of closure. The past days had been a storm, an endless cascade of misfortunes, yet here you were, walking with a renewed sense of purpose.

I’m going to leave this place for real now.

A soft smile played on your lips. It was true what they said—there was always a rainbow after the storm. You glanced down at your new outfit, the one mr. silvair had offered after coming back from leaving you and mr. chopped alone. It was a gift, he’d said, found among the otherworldly remnants scattered across the strange plane. Somehow, he knew it would suit you.

The skirt hugged your thighs snugly, its fabric moving effortlessly with your stride. The white tank top, adorned with a small strawberry design at its center, felt oddly fresh against your skin. Minimal yet stylish, it was a far cry from the oversized raincoats and makeshift dresses you’d worn before.

As you walked, you adjusted the hem of the skirt, feeling it rise slightly higher than you were used to. A small, almost mischievous chuckle escaped your lips. It wasn’t something you’d normally wear, but today… today, you didn’t mind. Tucked in your hair was the pink hairclip mr. chopped had given you. It was whimsical and a bit childish, yet it added an unexpected charm to your appearance. Did he and mr. silvair plan this? It got me thinking…

You ran a hand through your now well-groomed hair, the clip holding back your bangs from falling into your face. Everything felt so… new. The world around you still loomed with shadows, but for once, they didn’t feel as heavy.

But as your thoughts wandered, a prickling sensation began to creep up your spine.

Someone’s there.

Your steps slowed, the faint echoes of your shoes against the tiled floor now joined by something faint, something subtle. The softest rustle, a shift of air. You didn’t need to look back to know who it was. You’d felt this presence before—silent, watching, waiting.

"Mr. scarletella," you called out, your voice steady despite the small tremor in your chest. "I know you in there."

Silence.

You sighed, turning to face the direction of the presence. There he was.

He stood just a few feet away, his tall frame casting an imposing shadow on the wall. His red hair, straight and slightly disheveled, fell across his face in a way that framed his sharp features. Those round black eyes; half-lidded, piercing, and unyielding—locked onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. The light in his gaze was unsettling, but there was something else beneath it—a flicker of curiosity, admiration even. His eyes roamed over your figure, lingering on the subtle curves the outfit revealed.

He was definitely sure about one thing—you knew about the curse, and how to combat it. But from whom you’d learn it from, he hadn’t a clue—he didn’t care anymore. He wanted you and that’s all he knew, all he needed to fight for.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched thin, the air between you thick with unspoken tension.

You shifted uncomfortably, adjusting the hem of your skirt once again, feeling his gaze like a physical weight on your skin. “This one hell of a weirdo…” you muttered under your breath, your native tongue soft but biting.

His grin widened ever so slightly, unbothered by your insult which he understood with your behavior alone. If anything, he seemed amused.

“What you wan—” you began, but your words faltered as he took a step forward.

There was a fluidity to his movements now, no longer the eerie teleport—glitches you were accustomed to. He moved like liquid, smooth and deliberate, crouching lowly to bring his face closer to yours.

You froze.

His umbrella clattered to the ground, abandoned, his fingers reaching up—tentatively and curiously. The glint in his eyes remained, but his touch… his touch was soft. He gently brushes his fingers against the pink hairclip, his thumb tracing the small shape with unexpected care.

“ㄚ卩几丂(cute) .” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers moved from the clip to your hair, running through its silky strands. He seemed fascinated, almost in awe, as if seeing you like this was something entirely new to him. “几ㄩ(you) ㄚ乃(not) 尺ㄒ几(run) 乃ㄚ卂山(away) ?” he finally asked, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

You shook your head, the motion slight but enough to convey your answer. Despite the unease his presence usually brought, there was something different about him now. He wasn’t the predator lurking in the shadows. He was… something else. You were used to stereotyping him into a psychotic weird maniac that followed your steps like a dog, but seeing him be the opposite of that—it made you less uncomfortable around his presence.

You discreetly leaned into his touch— just slightly, almost imperceptibly, but he noticed. His eyes widening briefly, as if caught off guard by your unspoken permission. For a moment, he looked as though he didn't know what to do with the gesture, his usually composed demeanor faltering ever so slightly. Yet, his fingers remained in your hair, brushing gently against the strands as if testing the boundaries of this newfound intimacy.

Then, his hand moved lower, slow and deliberate, his fingers grazing your shoulder before stopping at the embroidered strawberry on your shirt.

He tilted his head, the faint light glinting off his curious eyes as he traced the delicate stitching. His touch was light, almost reverent, as though the small detail fascinated him in a way you couldn't understand.

“Strawberry… you like?” you questioned, pointing at the imagery embroided in your shirt—to which he nodded.

His fingertips glided over the textured design, the soft friction of fabric against your skin sending a faint shiver through you. It was so subtle, so precise, that it left a lingering warmth in its wake. The way he handled even the smallest details—like the weave of the thread or the curve of the strawberry-felt oddly intimate, as though he were exploring a part of you that was uniquely yours.

“Strawberry.” He muttered, copying the way you had said it in your own language—uncontrollably leaving you smiling.

Your breath hitched slightly when his thumb brushed over the fabric just below the design, his movements unhurried yet deliberate. He was savoring every moment, every inch of this small, simple contact. His eyes flicked back to yours, catching the faint tremor in your chest, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he’d noticed how deeply he affected you.

“几卂山乃(nice) .” he said, his grin softening into something more genuine, though his gaze remained fixated on you.

You couldn’t help but notice how intently he admired just about everything about you, his fingers carefully exploring every detail about you as though it were some rare, precious artifact. There was something oddly endearing about it, the way he cherished even the smallest details with such genuine fascination. For a brief moment, you found yourself smiling softly, realizing just how fitting it was—if he were to turn into any fruit, he’d undoubtedly be a strawberry. With his striking red hair and that subtle sweetness hidden beneath his mischievous exterior, it just made sense. The thought lingered for a moment, and then it hit you—he was actually… cute. You blinked, startled by the realization, and quickly looked away, heat rushing to your cheeks. It wasn’t just the strawberry comparison or his red hair; it was the way he paid attention to the little things, the way he seemed so childlike in his wonder despite everything else about him being so overwhelming. The thought made your chest flutter in a way that was both embarrassing and oddly comforting, you silently hoped he hadn’t noticed the shift in your expression.

But he didn't stop there. His hand wandered down, his fingers brushing the hem of your skirt with a featherlight touch that sent a shiver through your body. He paused, his gaze snapping up to meet yours, as if asking for permission, his dark eyes now soft yet piercing, searching for any hint of resistance. You didn't say a word, but the way you stood still, your breath hitching ever so slightly, told him everything he needed to know. You weren't stopping him—you weren't pulling away.

That small, unspoken signal was all the encouragement he needed. Slowly, his fingers began to explore further, grazing the delicate fabric with deliberate care. The warmth of his touch seeped through the material, his movements slow and purposeful as if savoring every moment. You felt your heart race, a flush creeping up your neck as he drew closer to the sensitive skin just above your thighs. His actions weren't rushed or greedy; they were curious, almost respectful, as though he was discovering something he wanted to remember forever.

He glanced up again, his expression unreadable but intense, his lips parting slightly as though he was going to speak—but hesitated. Instead, he let his hand linger just at the edge of what was decent, his fingers brushing the barest hint of skin beneath the hem. The intimacy of the moment was almost unbearable, your breath quickening as his touch sent small jolts of electricity coursing through you. His gaze never left yours, and in that quiet exchange, the air between you felt heavy, charged with something you weren't sure either of you fully understood yet.

His touch grew bolder, his fingers skimming the bare skin of your thighs. Your breathing quickened, the warmth of his hand leaving a trail of heat wherever it went. His agape mouth faltered slightly, replaced by a more focused, almost reverent expression as he watched your reactions.

You tried to keep your composure, but the blush creeping up your neck betrayed you. His fingers pressed against the fabric of your skirt, tugging it gently upward, exposing more of your skin with each passing second.

“Scarlet…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He instantly paused, his gaze snapping back to yours, dark and searching, as though gauging your every reaction. For a fleeting moment, you thought he might put an end to his sensual actions, but instead, his hand shifted, moving with deliberate intent after confirming your allowing expression.

As if he could sense the unspoken tension between you—he leans one hand to the wall behind you for support, his other hand slid to your waist, settling there with a possessive ease. His thumb brushed the bare skin just above your skirt slowly, deliberately, sending a jolt through you that felt almost electric. The pad of his thumb traced small, languid circles on the exposed skin, his touch both tender and teasing. The contact was light, yet it felt heavy, leaving a trail of heat in its wake that had your mind racing. He leaned in ever so slightly, close enough for you to feel the faint warmth radiating from him, his movements unhurried, as if savoring every second of the moment he held you.

His eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, everything else seemed to blur. His touch, his gaze, the proximity—it all became too much, too intimate, yet you found yourself rooted in place, unable and unwilling to pull away.

The heat between you was noticeable now, unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. His fingers toying with the hem of your skirt, lifting it slightly to reveal the smooth skin of your upper thigh. His touch was deliberate, savoring every inch of you as if committing it to memory.

Your heart raced, the flush on your cheeks deepening as you let him explore. You weren’t sure what this was—curiosity, lust, something more? But you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him.

His thumb ventured higher, the path it traced growing bolder with each second, leaving a blazing warmth in its wake. Every inch he ascended felt like uncharted territory, your breath catching as his touch teased the edge of your self-control. You could feel your heart pounding, a rhythm that matched the deliberate, calculated movements of his hand. His thumb hovered dangerously close to your most sensitive place, the anticipation thick enough to drown in.

But then, he stopped—his entire body tensing, his hand frozen in place. The moment hung in the air, thick with tension, as if time itself had paused. His fingers hovered at the edge of something forbidden, the barest touch brushing against a boundary he hadn’t meant to cross. The shock hit him in a flash, his thumb barely grazing that intimate threshold, a realization dawning on him that what he’d just touched was beyond anything he had expected. His breath caught, and for a split second, he seemed unsure whether to pull away or give in to the unexpected temptation. His gaze snapped up to yours, searching for any hint of permission, his mind scrambling to make sense of the electrifying moment he’d just created.

Mr. silvair’s gift did not come with panties.

.

.

.

[ Route 1 : SFW (Shows a route wherein NSFW content are replaced by SFW scenes.) Skip to the next chapter for NSFW(18+) version. ]

He didn't pull away immediately, as if caught in the struggle between instinct and restraint. The intensity in his gaze softened, the heat of desire tempered by a fragile sense of guilt. You didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed at his hesitation, but one thing was certain—this moment had shifted something irreversibly between the two of you.

He stepped back, letting your skirt fall back into place. His grin returned, though it was softer now, more restrained. He fixed your clothes with surprising care, his hands lingering briefly before pulling away.

The silence that followed was deafening, your breaths the only sound in the still hallway.

Scarletella’s sharp gaze lingered on you, his expression unreadable, as though he was piecing together a puzzle only he could see. His lips parted, the strange, melodic cadence of his voice breaking the silence. “几ㄩ(you) . . . 乂几卩ㄚ(feel) 几��尺ㄚ(things) .” he murmured, the words rolling off his tongue like a revelation, yet spoken almost to himself.

It was as though he wasn’t just stating it—he was savoring the realization, testing the weight of the truth in the air between you. His tone carried a curious mix of intrigue and satisfaction, as if your human emotions were a puzzle he’d just begun to understand. It sent a shiver through you, his words more intimate than they had any right to be.

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t.

But deep down, you knew he was right.

—ch.5

➤ e n d

"Human Emotions”

[vampiricmechanic]

i finally took the "soldier, poet, king" quiz, so sure i'd get "poet", as i literally am a writer. i got king. and let me tell you. this quiz does get you on the verge of tears

[fix-me-sixteen]

okay i think we need to start writing lists of hunger games theories/opinions we hold in disdain.

we do . . . here are some of mine:

gale killed prim

effie went through a spectacular character arc and came out to be a good person in the end

katniss supported coin's idea to hold one last symbolic hunger games

peeta is boring (boy is manipulative as shit hello)

finnick shouldn't have died, it should've been gale instead

the reapings were rigged to pick prim in the first book

coin is lucy gray

coin is worse than snow. also snow is worse than coin

snow truly, genuinely loved lucy gray

snow truly, genuinely cared about sejanus

gale is genuinely, truly an evil bad person

katniss should've ended up with gale

people unabashedly hating on the careers/cheering at their deaths/saying they deserved it

katniss's mother deserved more anger from katniss for the way she checked out

when people say they want to see more of the games/hope the next book has a sizable portion dedicated to it

when people make sotr about haymitch ships

when people unironically ship snowbaird or whatever-snow-and-sejuanus-is as a non-toxic, happy, loving couple and make romantic tiktoks about them

when people make any of the books about mainly the romance (they're about how romance/marketing is used to cover the less digestible aspects of the horrors of war hello)

when people say flickerman in tbosas was super funny comedic relief???? his literal point in that movie was to show how making sick, twisted jokes about children dying was used to water down the fact that, you know, children are dying. you're supposed to be sick to your stomach because he could casually banter and dumb down the severity of the hunger games, not laugh with him. if you laughed at even a single one of his jokes . . . like hello

the berries started the rebellion . . .

snow wasn't genuinely convinced by katniss's in-love-with-peeta act

when people thirst over snow because tom blyth is hot get me out of here

snow was a genius for the third quarter quell (that was an objectively stupid move on his part and not at all smart)

katniss never wanted kids and the ending was out of character for her (i'm all for criticizing writers that make (usually female) characters who explicitly don't want to have kids have kids anyway, but uh. katniss is not that character)

snow is smart in general. he is not smart, he's just opportunistic

gale didn't deserve katniss because peeta had bread and he didn't (do not take this the wrong way people; i'm saying this is a stupid anti gale argument, not that i ship katniss and gale)

pretty much anything the movies pushed or changed (*cough* hayffie *cough*)

the hunger games isn't a tragedy

[esotericalchemist]

𝐀𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐭: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧 ☽˚｡⋆.

Masterlist - YouTube (subliminals)

The rising sign in astrology represents the lens through which we view the world and the role we are meant to play in it. It is the path we walk, guiding how we navigate life’s challenges and opportunities. Each Ascendant reveals unique lessons around identity, purpose, and self-expression, pushing us to evolve beyond surface-level appearances. While the rising sign shapes our external persona, its deeper influence lies in the soul’s journey toward greater self-awareness and growth. Understanding your rising sign uncovers the hidden themes of your life, offering insight into how you can align your personal power with your soul’s purpose.

𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐬𝐜����𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐭

If you’re born with an Aries Ascendant (or Rising sign), your soul’s journey revolves around mastering the art of initiation, courage, and self-leadership. As the first sign of the zodiac, Aries rising invites you to be a trailblazer, carving out your unique path. But the deeper lesson isn’t just about boldness or pioneering—it's about learning to direct your fiery, primal energy into purposeful, conscious action.

The Ascendant represents the life path you’re destined to walk, the persona you present to the world, and the first impressions you leave behind. With Aries rising, your approach to life is direct, assertive, and often fueled by a sense of urgency. However, beneath the surface, the true lesson for Aries Ascendant is not simply about pushing ahead with sheer force. It’s about mastering the wisdom of restraint—knowing when to act and when to pull back, reflect, and allow things to unfold. Courage, for you, isn’t always about charging forward; it also lies in standing still, surrendering control, and trusting the process.

On a soul level, Aries Ascendant is learning the delicate balance between independence and interdependence. While you’re meant to express your individuality and trust your instincts, your journey often brings challenges that teach you to consider the needs and perspectives of others. Many Aries rising souls come into this world with a karmic imprint of defending themselves or proving their strength, only to discover that true strength lies within, not in external validation.

The Deeper Path of Aries Ascendant

Embracing Self-Leadership: You are here to lead by example, but true leadership inspires others, not controls them. Your challenge is to balance your fierce independence with empathy, learning that influence comes through inspiring, not overpowering.

Mastering Impulse and Patience: While your nature drives you to act swiftly, the real power comes from learning to pause. Patience becomes your greatest ally as you refine how and when to channel your fiery energy.

Understanding the Self through Challenges: Life may feel like a series of battles, but wisdom comes from discerning which ones matter. Growth arises when you learn when to push forward and when to let go, realizing that not every conflict is worth engaging.

Initiation and New Beginnings: You excel at starting new ventures, but your journey is about seeing them through. A key lesson is learning to stay committed to projects and relationships, even when the initial excitement fades.

Developing Emotional Maturity: Acting on emotion comes easily, but you’re learning that true strength is found in emotional wisdom. Responding thoughtfully, rather than reacting impulsively, is the key to personal growth and empowerment.

Learning to Work with Others: Though independence is your cornerstone, collaboration will teach you invaluable lessons in balance. Engaging with others doesn’t mean losing yourself—it enriches your growth and deepens your understanding of shared purpose.

Healing the Wounded Warrior: You might feel the need to constantly defend yourself, but healing arrives when you let down your guard. True power isn’t found in endless battles; it’s discovered in cultivating inner peace.

Learning about Boundaries and Balance: Knowing when to forge ahead and when to step back is crucial. Your path is about striking a balance between action and rest, independence and connection, intensity and calm.

The Soul’s Path of Aries Ascendant

Aries Ascendant souls are here to embody courage, but not in the way it’s traditionally defined. Your journey is about discovering that courage goes beyond charging into battle or proving your strength. It’s about showing up as your authentic self, facing your fears, and stepping confidently into the unknown. You are here to explore self-discovery, leadership, and the impact your actions have on the world.

In this lifetime, you’re being called to balance your warrior spirit with wisdom, your fierce independence with meaningful connection, and your impulsiveness with patient reflection. The deeper lesson for Aries Ascendant is that true leadership comes from within, and the most powerful battles are often the ones fought in the heart.

This is the path of Aries Ascendant—full of fire, passion, and initiation, but ultimately guiding you toward a more evolved expression of personal power and authentic selfhood.

𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬 𝐀𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐭

With Taurus as your Ascendant, your soul’s journey centers on mastering stability, self-worth, and building something enduring. Ruled by Venus, Taurus rising gifts you with an appreciation for beauty, comfort, and the material world. Yet, the deeper lesson for this Ascendant lies in understanding how to balance your innate desire for security with the need for personal growth. While Taurus Ascendant individuals often seek peace and simplicity, their true path involves learning to embrace change without sacrificing their inner grounding.

The Ascendant represents your approach to life, the energy you project, and the path you are destined to walk. As a Taurus rising, you move through life with steady determination, always seeking to build security and foster an environment of peace. However, the challenge with this sign is recognizing that true security doesn’t come from material possessions or external comforts—it resides within. You are here to cultivate a deep sense of inner worth and stability that transcends the physical realm.

Taurus Ascendant people come into this life to confront their relationship with value—both in terms of self-worth and their connection to material success. There is often a karmic lesson in releasing rigidity and embracing flexibility. Clinging too tightly to comfort and familiarity can prevent true growth. Ultimately, your journey is about creating something lasting—whether that’s a legacy, a relationship, or a profound sense of self. Yet, knowing when to let go is as vital as knowing when to hold on.

The Deeper Path of Taurus Ascendant:

Building Inner Security: You are here to discover that true security is born from within. Developing a strong sense of self-worth and inner peace is a fundamental part of your soul’s journey.

Embracing Change: Though you naturally value stability, life often calls you to embrace change. Flexibility is your greatest opportunity for growth, allowing you to evolve while maintaining your grounding.

Learning Patience and Persistence: Your nature is steady and patient, but your lesson is in discerning when persistence serves you and when it keeps you stuck. Finding balance between patience and progress is key.

Exploring Self-Worth Beyond Material Success: While you may seek comfort through material possessions or accomplishments, your deeper journey involves learning that true value stems from self-acceptance, not external achievements.

Mastering the Art of Letting Go: Taurus rising often clings to what is familiar, but you are here to understand the power of release. Letting go of attachments opens the door to greater abundance and inner peace.

Connecting to Earth and Body: With a strong connection to the physical world, you are learning to balance indulgence with discipline. Grounding yourself in nature and maintaining your physical well-being supports your spiritual growth.

Balancing Pleasure and Responsibility: While you find joy in life’s pleasures, your path involves learning to balance enjoyment with duty. True fulfillment comes from integrating both pleasure and purpose, savoring life while honoring your commitments.

Developing Emotional Resilience: Although you prefer emotional stability, life will challenge you to cultivate inner resilience. Facing emotional tests builds lasting strength and helps you navigate life's ups and downs with grace.

The Soul’s Path of Taurus Ascendant:

As a Taurus rising, your soul’s journey is about building a strong and lasting foundation—one capable of weathering life’s inevitable changes. While you are driven to create security, comfort, and stability, the deeper lesson is that true security must come from within, not from external accomplishments or possessions. You are learning to embrace change without losing your sense of grounding and to balance your desire for peace with the courage to grow and evolve.

Your path is one of patience, persistence, and understanding the true value of what matters. While Taurus energy moves at a slow and steady pace, you are also learning that sometimes you must release what no longer serves you in order to make room for greater opportunities. The essence of Taurus Ascendant lies in recognizing that lasting security is an inner state, not defined by external conditions, but by the strong, self-assured foundation you build over time.

𝐆𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐀𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐭

If you’re born with Gemini as your Ascendant, your soul’s journey revolves around mastering communication, adaptability, and intellectual exploration. Ruled by Mercury, Gemini rising imbues you with a boundless curiosity and a deep desire to understand the world. Your path is one of constant learning, gathering knowledge, and forming connections. However, the deeper lesson of Gemini Ascendant isn’t just about acquiring information but learning how to integrate that knowledge meaningfully and discovering your own truth amid the flood of endless possibilities.

As a Gemini rising, you approach life with a flexible, versatile mindset, always seeking new experiences and perspectives. Your natural talent lies in connecting with others through conversation, ideas, and social engagement. However, your challenge is learning how to ground yourself and find focus amid the myriad of interests and possibilities that captivate you. While your adaptability is a gift, your true growth comes from channeling your mental energy toward something that carries real meaning and depth.

On a soul level, Gemini rising individuals are here to learn how to balance their mental agility with emotional depth and consistency. While you excel at seeing multiple perspectives, your challenge is staying true to your own voice without being overly swayed by external opinions or influences. Gemini Ascendant souls often come into this life with a karmic need to develop focus and discernment, understanding that not every path is meant to be explored, and not every connection is meant to endure.

The Deeper Path of Gemini Ascendant:

Mastering Communication: Your journey involves using your natural gift for communication to forge meaningful connections. The challenge is learning to communicate with depth and sincerity, rather than skimming the surface.

Finding Focus Amid Variety: While you thrive on variety, your soul’s evolution comes from focusing your mental energy. You’re here to learn that depth, rather than breadth, often brings the most lasting growth.

Balancing Logic and Emotion: Though you may lean heavily on logic, your deeper lesson is about harmonizing intellect with emotion. True wisdom lies in balancing both the heart and the mind.

Learning to Commit: You’re energized by change, but the deeper challenge is learning to commit—whether to relationships, projects, or ideas. You’re here to stay with things long enough to see them fully bloom.

Discovering Inner Truth: With so many perspectives and ideas swirling around you, your path involves uncovering what resonates as true for you. Your journey isn’t just about absorbing information but integrating it in a way that aligns with your inner essence.

Embracing Stillness and Reflection: Though you prefer motion and mental stimulation, your growth lies in embracing moments of stillness. Reflection gives you the clarity to process and integrate your diverse experiences.

Understanding the Power of Words: You’re quick-witted and articulate, but part of your journey is realizing the true impact of your words. Words can heal or harm, and you’re here to use them consciously and with intention.

Learning to Ground Mental Energy: Your mind is constantly active, but your soul’s lesson is about grounding this mental energy. Cultivating practices that center and calm your mind will help you stay focused and present in the moment.

The Soul’s Path of Gemini Ascendant:

As a Gemini rising, your soul’s path is one of exploration—of ideas, experiences, and human connections. While your curiosity drives you to explore new horizons, the deeper journey is about focusing your energy and translating what you learn into something meaningful. You’re here to master the balance between your quick, adaptive mind and the emotional depths that anchor you, understanding that true wisdom is not just found in facts but in the meaning you derive from your experiences and connections.

Your journey also teaches you the immense power of words and communication—not just as a tool for gathering knowledge, but as a force for creating understanding and fostering healing. As you grow, you will learn to use your adaptability not as a way to avoid commitment but as a means to gracefully navigate life’s complexities. The essence of Gemini Ascendant is about mastering the art of connection, both with others and within yourself, so you can move through life with purpose and clarity.

𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐭

If you’re born with Cancer as your Ascendant, your soul’s journey centers on mastering emotional depth, nurturing, and creating a sense of belonging. Ruled by the Moon, Cancer rising connects you deeply to your emotional world, family, and home. Your approach to life is sensitive, intuitive, and driven by a desire for emotional security. However, the deeper lesson of Cancer Ascendant isn’t solely about protecting your emotions—it’s about learning how to nurture without losing yourself. Your soul’s path is to cultivate security from within, rather than depending entirely on external circumstances for comfort.

With Cancer rising, you instinctively care for others and form strong emotional bonds, but the key to your growth is finding balance. You must learn how to protect your own energy while offering support, recognizing that boundaries are necessary to sustain your emotional well-being. This placement highlights not just emotional sensitivity but the need to develop resilience and to navigate the ebb and flow of life’s emotional tides.

On a soul level, Cancer Ascendant people are here to confront their relationship with vulnerability, family patterns, and emotional security. You may come into this life with unresolved emotional experiences from the past, making it essential to explore and heal your deeper emotional self. Your challenge is learning how to embrace vulnerability without becoming overly defensive or retreating into self-protection. As you progress on this journey, you’ll discover that true emotional security is cultivated within, not through external validation or control.

The Deeper Path of Cancer Ascendant:

Emotional Mastery: Your journey is about balancing emotional sensitivity with resilience. You’re here to understand that vulnerability is not a weakness but a source of strength when approached mindfully.

Creating Inner Security: While you seek comfort in relationships and family, the deeper lesson lies in developing emotional security within yourself. No external source can truly provide the lasting security you desire.

Balancing Nurturing with Boundaries: You have a natural instinct to care for others, but your path involves learning to set boundaries. Saying no when necessary is key to preserving your emotional energy and well-being.

Healing Family Patterns: You may carry emotional imprints from family or even past lives. Part of your journey is to heal these patterns and create a healthier emotional legacy for yourself and future generations.

Trusting Intuition: Cancer rising blesses you with strong intuitive abilities. You’re here to learn how to trust and follow your inner guidance, using it to navigate challenges and safeguard your emotional well-being.

Learning to Flow with Change: Ruled by the ever-changing Moon, you’re here to embrace life’s natural cycles and transitions. Learning to release emotional attachments that no longer serve you is essential for growth.

Embracing Vulnerability: While you may feel the need to protect your heart, your deeper journey is about being open. True intimacy comes when you allow yourself to be vulnerable and trust in the process.

Caring for Yourself as You Care for Others: You are naturally a caregiver, but part of your lesson is learning to nurture yourself. True caregiving starts with self-care, and you must nourish your own emotional needs before giving to others.

The Soul’s Path of Cancer Ascendant:

As a Cancer rising, your soul’s path is deeply intertwined with emotions, family ties, and the quest for security. However, your greatest growth comes from realizing that true security comes from within. You are here to master the art of nurturing—not just for others but for yourself as well—while maintaining healthy emotional boundaries. While you may feel deeply connected to your roots and family, your evolution depends on healing past emotional wounds and breaking free from patterns that no longer serve you.

Your journey is one of emotional mastery. It’s not about avoiding your feelings but about fully embracing them and understanding their impact on your life and relationships. As you grow, you’ll come to realize that true strength lies in emotional openness and resilience, not in hiding behind protective walls. The essence of Cancer Ascendant is about building a foundation of inner security, allowing you to nurture both yourself and others from a place of emotional wholeness.

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐀𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐭

If you’re born with Leo as your Ascendant, your soul’s journey is about embracing self-expression, leadership, and discovering your unique personal power. Ruled by the Sun, Leo rising grants you a magnetic presence, a strong need for creative expression, and a drive to leave your mark on the world. However, the deeper lesson of Leo Ascendant isn’t simply about seeking attention or standing in the spotlight—it’s about finding authenticity and purpose in the way you shine. You are here to explore your inner light, not for external validation, but to honor your true self.

As a Leo rising, you approach life with boldness and confidence that can inspire others, but your journey also involves learning humility. Your soul’s path includes balancing your innate charisma with self-awareness and leading without overpowering. While you are naturally drawn to leadership roles, the deeper lesson is understanding that true leadership comes from empowering others, not just yourself. You are here to learn how to lead with heart, using your talents to uplift those around you, rather than seeking control or approval.

On a soul level, Leo Ascendant individuals are here to explore their relationship with ego, self-worth, and how they define success. You may come into this life with lessons around self-importance, learning that true greatness is measured not by external achievements, but by the depth of your authenticity and your ability to inspire others. The challenges you face will push you to move beyond superficial validation and into a deeper understanding of what it means to be truly seen for who you are.

The Deeper Path of Leo Ascendant:

Embracing Authentic Self-Expression: You’re here to fully express yourself, but the key lesson is about authenticity. True self-expression comes from the heart, not from a need for approval or validation.

Balancing Ego and Humility: While you naturally seek recognition, your path involves balancing confidence with humility. True leadership isn’t about always being in the spotlight—it’s about empowering others and lifting them up.

Discovering Inner Confidence: Leo Ascendant teaches you to find confidence from within. External validation can be fleeting, but real strength comes from knowing your worth, regardless of others’ opinions.

Learning the Art of Leadership: You are destined to lead, but authentic leadership involves inspiring others to reach their potential. Your challenge is to lead without overshadowing or dominating those around you.

Tapping into Creative Power: You are a natural creator, but your journey is about using your creative energy for a purpose greater than yourself. You’re here to create not just for attention, but to leave a meaningful impact.

Facing the Fear of Rejection: As a Leo rising, you may fear not being seen or appreciated. Your path involves learning that rejection doesn’t diminish your worth—it’s part of the growth process and helps you develop resilience.

Letting Go of Superficial Validation: While admiration energizes you, your deeper lesson is finding fulfillment beyond external praise. True recognition comes from being true to yourself, not from performing for others.

Leading with the Heart: Leo Ascendant teaches that true power comes from the heart. You’re here to learn how to lead with compassion and authenticity, using your gifts to inspire and uplift others.

The Soul’s Path of Leo Ascendant:

As a Leo rising, your soul’s journey centers on personal empowerment, creativity, and learning how to shine in an authentic way. While you are naturally drawn to leadership and recognition, your deeper lesson is about using your gifts to inspire others rather than seeking approval. You’re here to embrace your inner light, learning that true greatness comes not from external achievements but from living with integrity and heart-centered purpose.

Your path is about discovering what makes you truly unique and expressing it boldly. However, the challenge lies in balancing this self-expression with humility and service to others. As you grow, you’ll learn that being seen isn’t just about standing out—it’s about connecting with others through authenticity, inspiring them to find their own light. The essence of Leo Ascendant is leading with love, creativity, and a deep understanding that your true power comes from the heart, not the ego.

𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐨 𝐀𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐭

If you’re born with Virgo as your Ascendant, your soul’s journey revolves around mastering the art of service, discernment, and self-improvement. Ruled by Mercury, Virgo rising gifts you with an analytical mind, a deep need for order, and a desire to refine both yourself and the world around you. However, the deeper lesson of Virgo Ascendant isn’t about striving for perfection—it’s about embracing imperfections in both yourself and others, while still working toward improvement. You are here to develop the skill of discernment over criticism, learning to balance your drive for excellence with compassion and acceptance.

As a Virgo rising, you approach life with responsibility and practicality, always seeking ways to improve, organize, and serve. Yet, your journey also involves understanding that true service comes from a place of humility and self-compassion. While you often seek control through routines and structure, your path teaches that life’s greatest growth comes from adapting to change and embracing the inevitable messiness. The challenge is to realize that not everything can be perfected or fixed—acceptance is just as important as improvement.

On a soul level, Virgo Ascendant individuals are here to explore their relationship with control, health, and their need to feel useful. You may enter this life with a strong sense of duty and a desire to prove your worth through productivity. However, the deeper lesson is that your value doesn’t stem from how much you do or how perfect you are, but from living your life authentically. Learning to let go of the constant need for improvement and finding peace in simply being is a key part of your growth.

The Deeper Path of Virgo Ascendant:

Embracing Imperfection: You’re here to improve both yourself and others, but your deeper lesson is to accept imperfection. True growth occurs when you understand that flaws are an essential part of the journey.

Balancing Service with Self-Care: As a Virgo rising, you naturally focus on serving others, but the deeper challenge is learning to care for yourself as well. Balance is essential—you can’t pour from an empty cup.

Letting Go of Over-Control: While order and routines help you feel secure, your path involves learning to adapt. True mastery lies in flexibility, not rigidity.

Learning to Trust the Process: You are analytical and often seek the “right” way to do things, but your journey involves trusting that not everything can be planned or perfected. Let life unfold as it’s meant to.

Developing Emotional Intelligence: While Virgo rising tends to focus on practical matters, your deeper lesson is developing emotional intelligence. Balancing logic with empathy and intuition is key to your growth.

Transforming Criticism into Discernment: You have a keen eye for detail, but your growth involves using discernment rather than criticism. Your insights are meant to uplift and heal, not to judge or hurt.

Healing the Need for Perfection: Virgo rising often feels pressured to be perfect, but your journey is about releasing that burden. Your value comes not from what you do, but from who you are at your core.

Finding Meaning in Service: You are drawn to helping others, but true service comes from the heart, not obligation. The deeper lesson is to serve with love and find joy in uplifting others.

The Soul’s Path of Virgo Ascendant:

As a Virgo rising, your soul’s journey is about refining your ability to serve, improve, and discern, but it also challenges you to balance this with self-acceptance. While you are naturally inclined to seek perfection, your deeper lesson is embracing the imperfections that make life real and meaningful. You are here to master the art of service, not through judgment or criticism, but through humility and compassion.

Your path involves learning to trust the process, understanding that not everything can be controlled or perfected. As you grow, you will find that true peace comes from accepting yourself and others as they are, while still striving for personal and spiritual growth. The essence of Virgo Ascendant is about healing and service, using your analytical gifts to better the world, but always with an open heart and a sense of inner peace.

𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚 𝐀𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐭

If you’re born with Libra as your Ascendant, your soul’s journey centers around mastering balance, relationships, and the art of harmonious connection. Ruled by Venus, Libra rising endows you with natural grace, charm, and an innate desire for peace and beauty. While Libra rising is often seen as diplomatic and cooperative, the deeper lesson of this Ascendant goes beyond maintaining harmony with others—it’s about finding true balance within yourself. You’re here to learn that harmony begins inside, and that relationships flourish when you honor your own needs just as much as those of others.

As a Libra rising, you instinctively seek fairness and equality, always mindful of how your actions affect those around you. However, your journey also requires learning how to assert your individuality without losing yourself in the pursuit of keeping the peace. The path for Libra Ascendant involves integrating the self with others, balancing giving and receiving, and understanding that sometimes conflict is necessary for growth. This rising sign challenges you to cultivate inner equilibrium, so you can navigate life with poise while not relying on external validation or approval.

On a soul level, Libra Ascendant individuals come into this life with lessons around partnership, self-worth, and decision-making. You may struggle with indecision, trying to please everyone, but your deeper growth comes from learning to make choices that reflect your true values. Libra rising is about mastering the art of relationships—not just in romance, but in all interactions—by learning to assert your needs without fear of disrupting the peace. Ultimately, you are here to explore the dynamic interplay between self and others, creating harmony through authentic, balanced connections.

The Deeper Path of Libra Ascendant:

Learning to Balance Self and Others: You’re here to master the balance between your own needs and the needs of others. True harmony arises when you honor yourself while fostering genuine connections.

Cultivating Inner Peace: While you seek external harmony, your soul’s journey is about developing inner peace. External balance is a reflection of your internal state, and true peace comes from within.

Mastering the Art of Decision-Making: Libra rising often struggles with indecision, but your path involves learning to make choices with confidence. The deeper lesson is trusting yourself and standing firm in your values.

Embracing Conflict for Growth: Although you prefer peace, part of your journey is about accepting conflict as a catalyst for growth. Not all tension is negative—sometimes it’s necessary for deeper understanding and evolution.

Balancing Relationships and Independence: You thrive in relationships, but your growth lies in balancing partnership with independence. You are here to learn that you can be whole on your own, while still deeply connected to others.

Finding Authentic Expression: While you’re naturally diplomatic, your deeper lesson is to express your truth, even if it disrupts the harmony. Genuine relationships are built on authenticity, not just agreement.

Learning to Give and Receive: Libra rising tends to focus on giving, but your journey also involves learning to receive. You’re here to find balance between generosity and allowing yourself to accept support.

Developing Inner Confidence: While external validation may feel important, your path is about building inner confidence. You’ll learn that your worth isn’t determined by others’ approval but by your own sense of self.

The Soul’s Path of Libra Ascendant:

As a Libra rising, your soul’s journey revolves around balance—both in relationships and within yourself. You are here to master the art of connection, learning how to create harmonious interactions without sacrificing your individuality. While you’re naturally inclined to avoid conflict, the deeper lesson is recognizing that true peace sometimes requires difficult conversations or decisions. You’re learning to stand firm in your truth, even when it challenges the external harmony you cherish.

Your growth comes from embracing the complexities of relationships, understanding that balance doesn’t always mean compromise. Often, it means knowing when to assert yourself and when to yield. The essence of Libra Ascendant lies in finding harmony across all aspects of life, from relationships to personal values, while maintaining an authentic and confident sense of self. As you grow, you’ll discover that true beauty and peace come from within, and that the most meaningful connections are built on mutual respect, authenticity, and balance.

𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨 𝐀𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐭

If you’re born with Scorpio as your Ascendant, your soul’s journey revolves around mastering the themes of transformation, power, and emotional depth. Ruled by Mars and Pluto, Scorpio rising brings intensity, magnetism, and a profound need to understand life’s mysteries. While often perceived as secretive, determined, and complex, the deeper lesson of Scorpio Ascendant is about navigating the cycles of life, death, and rebirth—both in literal and metaphorical terms. Your path is one of constant transformation, where you’re called to shed old identities, face your fears, and embrace the unknown.

As a Scorpio rising, you approach life with intensity and purpose, always seeking to go beyond surface-level experiences. Whether it’s in relationships, career, or personal growth, you are drawn to explore the depths. However, the challenge of this rising sign is learning to let go of control and trust the process of transformation. Often, you resist change out of fear of vulnerability or loss, but the real lesson here is that true power comes from surrender, not control. Your path involves facing your shadow, healing from past wounds, and emerging stronger, more empowered, and more authentic.

On a soul level, Scorpio Ascendant individuals are here to explore themes of power, control, intimacy, and trust. You may come into this life with karmic wounds related to betrayal, abandonment, or emotional trauma, making it essential to heal and transform these energies. Your lesson is to move through life with courage and emotional depth, rather than fear or mistrust. Ultimately, you’re here to discover the alchemy of transformation, using the challenges you face to evolve into a more resilient and powerful version of yourself.

The Deeper Path of Scorpio Ascendant:

Mastering Transformation: You’re here to experience cycles of change, growth, and rebirth. Embracing transformation, rather than resisting it, is key to your soul’s evolution.

Balancing Power and Vulnerability: While you crave control, your deeper lesson is that real power comes from vulnerability. Being open and emotionally honest makes you stronger, not weaker.

Learning to Trust: Trusting others can be difficult for you, but your path involves learning to trust both yourself and those around you. Healing past betrayals allows you to open up to deeper connections.

Facing Your Fears: Scorpio rising challenges you to confront your deepest fears—whether it’s fear of loss, betrayal, or emotional exposure. True growth comes from facing these fears head-on.

Healing Emotional Wounds: You carry intense emotional energy, but your journey is about healing past wounds instead of letting them define you. Emotional transformation is central to your path.

Mastering Intimacy: You crave deep, meaningful connections, but your lesson is to balance intimacy with personal freedom. True closeness comes when you let go of control and allow trust to build naturally.

Using Power Wisely: You have a magnetic presence and influence over others, but your soul’s lesson is to use your power responsibly. Manipulation or control will backfire—authentic empowerment is your goal.

Surrendering to Life’s Mysteries: Scorpio rising calls you to embrace life’s mysteries rather than trying to control every outcome. Trusting the process of life, and knowing when to surrender, is key to your growth.

The Soul’s Path of Scorpio Ascendant:

As a Scorpio rising, your soul’s path centers on deep emotional and spiritual transformation. You are here to master the cycles of death and rebirth—not just in a literal sense, but in how you handle change, loss, and personal evolution. While you naturally crave control and intensity, your true growth comes from learning to let go of fear and embrace vulnerability as a source of strength.

Your journey involves healing past wounds, facing your shadow self, and discovering that real power lies in surrender, not domination. As you evolve, you will learn to channel your emotional depth and intensity into meaningful transformation, both for yourself and others. The essence of Scorpio Ascendant is about rising from the ashes, continually transforming into a more empowered, authentic, and resilient version of yourself. True strength is found in vulnerability, and your path is one of embracing both the light and shadow aspects of life with courage.

𝐒𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐀𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐭

If you’re born with Sagittarius as your Ascendant, your soul’s journey revolves around mastering freedom, exploration, and the pursuit of truth. Ruled by Jupiter, Sagittarius rising brings a natural optimism, a thirst for adventure, and an insatiable desire for knowledge. While this sign is often associated with wanderlust and philosophical exploration, the deeper lesson of Sagittarius Ascendant is about understanding that true freedom comes not just from external exploration, but from inner growth and wisdom. You’re here to expand your horizons and deepen your understanding of yourself and the world around you.

As a Sagittarius rising, you approach life with a sense of adventure, constantly seeking new experiences, cultures, and ideas. However, the challenge of this rising sign is learning to balance your desire for freedom with responsibility. While you may resist confinement and seek constant exploration, your deeper growth lies in recognizing that structure and commitment can be tools for deeper exploration rather than limitations. Your soul’s path is about discovering that true expansion comes from integrating life’s lessons and cultivating wisdom, not just seeking the next thrill.

On a soul level, Sagittarius Ascendant individuals come into this life with lessons around belief systems, truth, and personal growth. You may have a karmic need to break free from dogmatic thinking or rigid structures from past lives, pushing you to seek your own truth. However, the deeper challenge is to understand that freedom isn’t simply about escaping or rebelling—it’s about finding meaning and purpose in what you explore. Ultimately, your journey is about aligning your adventurous spirit with a deeper sense of purpose and inner wisdom.

The Deeper Path of Sagittarius Ascendant:

Seeking Inner and Outer Freedom: You’re here to explore the world, but the real lesson is discovering freedom within yourself. True liberation comes from personal growth and wisdom, not just external adventures.

Balancing Adventure with Responsibility: While you crave freedom, your journey involves balancing exploration with responsibility. Commitment, when aligned with your values, can deepen your experiences rather than limit them.

Discovering Personal Truth: You’re naturally drawn to philosophies and belief systems, but your deeper path is about finding your own truth. The lesson is to explore openly without clinging to rigid beliefs or dogma.

Facing Restlessness: Sagittarius rising often brings a sense of restlessness, constantly seeking new horizons. Your growth involves learning that true satisfaction comes from integrating your experiences, not just chasing the next adventure.

Cultivating Wisdom: Ruled by Jupiter, your journey is about expanding your mind and heart. True wisdom is gained not just by learning, but by applying that knowledge to create a meaningful and purposeful life.

Learning to Commit: You may resist commitment, fearing it will limit your freedom, but your deeper lesson is understanding that commitment can lead to deeper fulfillment. True freedom can coexist with dedication to a path, person, or idea.

Expanding Beyond the Self: While Sagittarius rising drives you toward personal growth, the greater lesson is about contributing to something larger than yourself. You’re here to use your wisdom and experiences to inspire and uplift others.

Balancing Idealism with Realism: You’re naturally optimistic, but your journey involves grounding your ideals in practical reality. True growth comes from aligning your grand visions with actionable steps and realistic goals.

The Soul’s Path of Sagittarius Ascendant:

As a Sagittarius rising, your soul’s journey is about seeking and expanding—both in terms of knowledge and experience, but also in spiritual growth. You are driven by a need to explore, learn, and discover, but the deeper lesson is finding a sense of inner freedom that transcends external circumstances. Your path involves balancing your desire for adventure with the wisdom gained from reflection and commitment.

You’re here to explore not only the physical world but also the realms of philosophy, spirituality, and personal growth. However, your growth comes from understanding that constant movement and external exploration aren’t always the answer. Sometimes, stillness, reflection, and deepening your understanding of life’s lessons bring the greatest expansion. The essence of Sagittarius Ascendant is about the pursuit of truth, meaning, and wisdom—using your experiences to live a life aligned with your highest ideals and values. Ultimately, your journey is about finding freedom in every aspect of life—mentally, spiritually, and emotionally—so you can inspire others to do the same.

𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐀𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐭

If you’re born with Capricorn as your Ascendant, your soul’s journey revolves around mastering discipline, responsibility, and the path of self-mastery. Ruled by Saturn, Capricorn rising brings a strong sense of purpose, ambition, and a deep desire to build something lasting. While Capricorn is often associated with success and structure, the deeper lesson of this Ascendant involves learning to align your external achievements with inner values. You’re here to walk a path of steady progress, embracing patience, persistence, and the understanding that true mastery takes time.

As a Capricorn rising, you approach life with a pragmatic and grounded perspective, often driven by long-term goals and a sense of responsibility. However, the challenge is balancing your external ambitions with inner fulfillment. You may feel pressured to meet societal expectations or climb the ladder of success, but your deeper journey involves finding meaning in what you build. Capricorn Ascendant isn’t just about material success—it’s about creating something that reflects your soul’s purpose and inner integrity.

On a soul level, Capricorn Ascendant individuals come into this life with lessons around authority, responsibility, and self-worth. You may carry karmic imprints of feeling burdened by duty or a need to prove your worth through hard work. However, the deeper lesson is understanding that true success isn’t defined by external validation—it’s about achieving inner mastery. You are here to take responsibility for your life, while also realizing that rest, emotional nourishment, and flexibility are vital to the journey.

The Deeper Path of Capricorn Ascendant:

Mastering Discipline and Patience: You’re here to build something lasting, but your lesson is understanding that real success takes time. Patience and consistent effort are crucial to your soul’s growth.

Balancing Ambition with Inner Fulfillment: While you strive for external success, your journey involves learning that true fulfillment comes from within. Aligning your goals with your deeper values is essential.

Letting Go of External Validation: Capricorn rising often feels the pressure to meet societal expectations, but your deeper lesson is learning that your worth isn’t defined by status or achievements.

Embracing Emotional Vulnerability: Though you project strength, your soul’s path involves learning to open up emotionally. True strength comes from vulnerability and allowing others to see your softer side.

Building a Legacy with Integrity: You are driven to create something meaningful, but the real lesson is about doing so with integrity. You’re here to build a legacy that reflects your inner values, not just external success.

Learning the Value of Rest: Capricorn Ascendant often pushes too hard, but your journey involves recognizing that rest is as important as work. Balance is essential for long-term success and well-being.

Taking Responsibility for Your Life: While you are naturally responsible, the deeper lesson is taking full ownership of your life’s direction. This involves letting go of blame and embracing your power to shape your destiny.

Transforming Fear of Failure: You may fear failure or struggle with self-doubt, but growth comes from understanding that mistakes are part of the journey. True mastery is built on resilience and learning from setbacks.

The Soul’s Path of Capricorn Ascendant:

As a Capricorn rising, your soul’s path centers on responsibility, perseverance, and the art of building something enduring. You are here to master discipline, but not at the expense of your emotional well-being. While you are naturally driven to achieve success in the material world, your deeper lesson is about aligning those achievements with your inner truth. You’re here to learn that true success isn’t measured by external accolades, but by the integrity, purpose, and fulfillment you find along the way.

Your journey involves learning to embrace vulnerability, rest, and emotional nourishment—understanding that these are essential for long-term success. Capricorn Ascendant teaches you that while hard work and ambition are important, balance is key. As you grow, you’ll realize that true mastery comes from building a life that reflects both your external goals and internal values, creating a legacy that is both meaningful and sustainable. Ultimately, the essence of Capricorn Ascendant is about walking the path of self-mastery, building something lasting, and achieving success that aligns with your soul’s purpose.

𝐀𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐀𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐭

If you’re born with Aquarius as your Ascendant, your soul’s journey revolves around mastering individuality, social consciousness, and revolutionary thinking. Ruled by both Saturn and Uranus, Aquarius rising combines the discipline and structure of Saturn with the innovation and radical change of Uranus. While Aquarius is often seen as progressive, detached, and intellectual, the deeper lesson of this Ascendant involves balancing your unique vision with the need for meaningful connection. You’re here to push boundaries, challenge societal norms, and break free from outdated structures, but the real growth lies in using your individuality to uplift the collective.

As an Aquarius rising, you approach life with a strong sense of independence, often feeling like an outsider. You are driven by a desire to explore unconventional paths, question authority, and seek out new ideas. However, the challenge of this rising sign is learning how to maintain your individuality without isolating yourself emotionally. While freedom is important to you, your soul’s journey is about integrating your personal ideals into the larger collective. You’re here to learn how to use your visionary thinking to create meaningful change, both for yourself and society.

On a soul level, Aquarius Ascendant individuals come into this life with lessons around community, freedom, and innovation. You may struggle with balancing your desire for autonomy with the need for connection, often resisting conformity or traditional structures. However, the deeper lesson is that true freedom doesn’t come from rejecting all limitations—it comes from mastering the balance between independence and collaboration. You are here to revolutionize, but also to build meaningful relationships that honor both your individuality and the needs of others.

The Deeper Path of Aquarius Ascendant:

Embracing Individuality with Purpose: You’re here to be different, but the lesson is about using your uniqueness for a higher purpose. True individuality comes from aligning your personal vision with collective progress.

Balancing Freedom with Connection: While you crave independence, your growth involves learning to balance this with meaningful relationships. True freedom doesn’t come from isolation but from mutual respect and shared goals.

Learning to Lead with Vision: You’re a natural visionary, but your path is about leading in a way that inspires others. Your ideas are revolutionary, but you must ground them in reality to create lasting change.

Mastering Detachment and Emotion: Aquarius rising can lead to emotional detachment, but your journey is about learning when to engage emotionally. Progress comes from both intellect and heart.

Breaking Free from Old Structures: You’re driven to challenge the status quo, but the lesson is about doing so constructively. Revolution is necessary, but you’re here to replace outdated systems with something meaningful and sustainable.

Embracing Your Role in the Collective: While you’re fiercely independent, your growth comes from recognizing your place in the larger community. You’re here to uplift others with your ideas, not just stand apart.

Innovating with Integrity: You’re a natural innovator, but your deeper lesson is about using your ideas with responsibility. True progress comes from integrity and care for the greater good.

Finding Freedom Through Structure: While you resist restriction, you’ll learn that some structure is essential for long-term progress. True freedom comes from discipline, allowing your vision to take form.

The Soul’s Path of Aquarius Ascendant:

As an Aquarius rising, your soul’s path revolves around blending innovation with responsibility, individuality with community, and intellectual freedom with emotional connection. You are here to be a trailblazer, challenging conventional thinking and creating new paths for others to follow. However, your deeper lesson is learning that true progress isn’t just about breaking free from the old—it’s about building a new, more enlightened future that benefits everyone.

Your journey involves balancing your desire for personal freedom with the understanding that meaningful change comes from collaboration. You’re here to lead, but not from a place of detachment—instead, you’ll find your greatest strength comes from connecting with others and uplifting the collective with your unique vision. The essence of Aquarius Ascendant is about creating a new world, one where individuality and community coexist, where innovation serves humanity, and where freedom is found through the integration of personal and collective growth.

𝐏𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐭

If you’re born with Pisces as your Ascendant, your soul’s journey revolves around mastering compassion, spiritual growth, and the ability to transcend the material world. Ruled by Jupiter and Neptune, Pisces rising brings a natural connection to the unseen realms, deep sensitivity, and a desire for unity. While Pisces is often associated with dreaminess, creativity, and emotional depth, the deeper lesson of this Ascendant is about learning to navigate life’s illusions and emotional complexities. You’re here to cultivate inner wisdom, spiritual awareness, and the ability to merge with the collective consciousness, all while maintaining a strong sense of self.

As a Pisces rising, you approach life with fluidity and openness, often seeing beyond the surface and into the emotional or spiritual core of situations. However, the challenge of this rising sign is learning to balance your sensitivity with boundaries. Pisces Ascendant can blur the lines between self and others, making it easy to absorb the emotions and energies around you. Your path involves finding a way to serve and heal without losing yourself in the process. You are here to develop discernment, knowing when to give and when to protect your own energy, so you can stay connected to both the physical and spiritual worlds.

On a soul level, Pisces Ascendant individuals come into this life with lessons around compassion, service, and mastering emotional boundaries. You may feel drawn to escape the harshness of reality or struggle to ground yourself in the material world, but your deeper growth comes from learning to balance your spiritual sensitivity with practical action. Ultimately, you are here to bring your dreams and ideals into the world, using your innate compassion to inspire and heal while staying connected to your own truth.

The Deeper Path of Pisces Ascendant:

Balancing Sensitivity with Boundaries: You’re deeply empathetic, but your lesson is learning to protect your energy. Boundaries are essential to avoid emotional overwhelm and maintain your sense of self.

Learning to Ground Your Spirituality: You’re naturally connected to the spiritual realm, but your growth comes from grounding that energy in the material world. Your challenge is turning dreams into reality.

Mastering Emotional Discernment: While you’re deeply intuitive, part of your journey involves learning to discern between your own emotions and the energies you absorb from others. Clarity comes from emotional awareness.

Healing Through Compassion: Pisces rising gives you the gift of compassion, but you’re here to learn that true healing comes from balance. You can’t save everyone, and your journey involves understanding when to step back.

Navigating Life’s Illusions: You may be prone to seeing life through rose-colored glasses, but your soul’s growth involves facing reality without losing your optimism. The lesson is in balancing idealism with practicality.

Serving Without Sacrificing Yourself: You’re naturally inclined to serve others, but your deeper path is learning to give without losing yourself. True service requires self-care and personal boundaries.

Embracing the Unknown: Pisces Ascendant teaches you to flow with life’s uncertainties, embracing the unknown rather than fearing it. Your spiritual growth lies in surrendering to life’s mysteries.

Bringing Dreams into Reality: While you’re naturally idealistic, your soul’s journey is about manifesting those ideals in the physical world. You’re here to learn how to take your visions and make them tangible.

The Soul’s Path of Pisces Ascendant:

As a Pisces rising, your soul’s journey is about merging the spiritual with the material, using your deep sensitivity to heal and inspire those around you. You are here to master the balance between compassion and self-care, learning that true service comes from a place of strength, not sacrifice. While you may be tempted to escape the harsh realities of life, your deeper lesson is about embracing both the seen and unseen worlds, finding a way to bring your spiritual insights into practical form.

Your growth comes from learning to navigate life’s illusions, finding clarity amid the emotional and spiritual currents that surround you. As you evolve, you will discover that true fulfillment comes from turning your dreams into reality, using your gifts of empathy and intuition to uplift others while maintaining your own emotional and spiritual integrity. The essence of Pisces Ascendant is about transcending the ordinary, finding meaning in life’s mysteries, and sharing your compassion and wisdom with the world in a way that honors both your soul and the greater collective.

Masterlist - YouTube (subliminals)

[valentinedagger]

when i was a child, once it had become obvious that spanking was considered gauche and extreme among their early-2000s drum-circle-attending hippie friends, my parents moved to a new default punishment: standing in the corner.

it was very simple. when told, i was to stand facing the corner, not moving, until i was told i could stop. in retrospect, the standard seemed to be to leave me until i had entirely stopped crying, then to start counting down some short, arbitrary block of time (maybe 5, 10 minutes) once i was silent and still. at the time, i didn't know this; the corner was a limbo state, it was a place i was suspended indefinitely til my parents considered me appropriate to deal with once again.

i wasn't to fidget, to sit down, make noises, sing or talk to myself. theoretically, i was supposed to "reflect on what i did wrong," although that never happened. i was, what, five? six?

frequently, i would get a cold, nauseating sensation that crept its way up my back. i would feel stiff and tense, the muscles in my neck and shoulders growing rigid, goosebumps prickling. i would feel as though i was being watched. i would sneak a peak over my shoulder at those times; when i saw i was alone, i would shift and stand on one foot for a bit, then the other, in order to take the weight off the other and ease some of my aches. sometimes i would start whispering to an imaginary friend, or lean against the wall. anything i knew i was not allowed to do, that i could immediately stop when i heard one of my parents approaching.

one specific time, i got that sensation. the creeping dread, the deep bonesickness of feeling watched. i snuck a peek over my shoulder.

my father had crept into my room, and was watching me silently.

"face the corner," he said.

i did.

almost as an afterthought, he told me i had earned myself more time.

the horror this evokes in me can't be described; it's a sheer, yawning precipice of paranoia, buttressed by the casual, uncaring authority of a parent-god, the architect of the childhood panopticon so utterly foreign, so removed from your world, that they not only do not, but cannot comprehend the pain and fear they're inflicting on you. my feet hurt. my legs hurt. my back ached. i was itchy and damp, utterly helpless, bound by rules i didn't understand and at the mercy of beings whose feelings and responses were utterly unpredictable and incomprehensible.

my father wanted to go play a video game.

i write a lot of horror that i don't think most people would automatically classify as "horror." most of it is an attempt to capture this feeling: the shaky, racing terror of survival without knowing the rules, the stakes, even the consequences. the understanding that anything could be a wrong move, that self-preservation can be punished. or it can be rewarded. or it can go entirely ignored. i want to capture that nauseating, paranoid dread and bottle it. every room is an escape room, the win conditions are up to the gamemaster, and he will change them. he always changes them.

maybe he's watching. maybe he went to the bathroom. maybe he forgot about you. you could always try looking over your shoulder to see.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Saving Genya from his big brother only to make out with Sanemi

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,9k

Synopsis: It was never an easy job, being the only one who's able to calm the wind hashira down. There was never more than respect and understanding between both of you. Until you bodly decided to stand up for Genya, until Sanemi finally reveals his true feelings...

Warnings: We're talking about Sanemi so language at violence lol, aggressive making out

I love love love Sanemi and I desperately hope you do as well hehe, enjoy and leave a comment/like/reblog <3

There he stands with his hot temper filling the air and his ruthless beatings torturing the poor souls in front of you. Hashira training never sounded like fun to you, especially when you consider who you’d have to deal with.

Sanemi Shinazugawa, especially.

“Get back up, brat. We’re not finished yet.”

You watch from afar as he hits the poor red-haired poor over and over again. Without any mercy, without the slightest hint of regret. And still, you can’t help but ponder about the way his arms flex and show every vein that decorates his skin. How he moves so effortlessly that your eyes are almost unable to follow. No, it’s not a secret that apart from being a madman, Sanemi Shinazugawa is hot as hell.

And your crush since you joined the demon slayer corps.

“Don’t you think that’s enough for today? The poor boy isn’t even able to stand up straight anymore”, you interfere when he’s about to hit him once again.

 "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were the expert on disciplining. How about me fetching you a chair so you can supervise more comfortably?”

All pairs of eyes are set on you while you step towards the scene in death silence. Apart from everyone else, you aren’t here to train under Sanemi. No, you are a very capable demon slayer yourself, so good that you even managed to beat Mitsuri from time to time. You definetely don’t need Sanemi to train.

In fact, you are here because you’re the only one who is able to tame him apart from Kagaya-sama himself.

"Well, if you ask me so nicely, a chair actually doesn’t sound bad for the next time. Meanwhile, how about we wrap this up? Enough's enough."

Sanemi’s venomous eyes meet yours, tempting you to lose your cool. Within the past few months, you’ve learned how to act around him and that his actions don’t reflect his true feelings at all. Deep within, he is the most caring and compassionate person you’ve ever met, so tender that you’d simply melt away in his touch. He never failed to protect you even if not needed, always made sure you are save before looking out for himself. Damn, he even left his desert for you to eat.

But on the other hand, he’s very good at hiding that side of him.

“Fine. Call it quits for today then. But we two will have a talk later”, he finally mutters before turning around and disappearing without any trace.

Your heart skips a few beats before you’re able to think straight again. Oh, how much you adore him. Just the sheer thought of meeting him alone sends shivers down your spine even though nothing ever happened between you two. After all, you’re only here to look out for him, right?

“Thank you for standing up for me. Now you’ll get in trouble for helping me out”, the red-haired boy lying in front of your feet speaks out while dragging himself up.

“Oh, don’t worry about me, I can handle him. Are you alright?”

In the matter of seconds, your eyes scan his body for serious injuries. Nothing, as you expected. Even though his training methods seem rough, he’d never allow himself to truly lay hands on another corps member. Not even him, Kamado Tanjiro. The boy who has what Sanemi always dreamed of.

“Yes, thanks to you. We really need a break after training day and night. Sorry, may I ask you for your name?

“My name is (y/n). Nice to finally meet you in person, Kamado Tanjiro.”

His eyes widen in an instant when you tell him your name. Even though you’re not a hashira, it seems like a lot of corps member know you. A decently skilled swordswoman, a trained doctor who made sure that no one ever died as long as you were around.

“The angel”, he breathes out.

“What an honor to meet you in person!”

In an instant, he gets on his knees and places his head on his flat palms. A pose of deep respect, so intimate that your cheeks heat up in an instant.

“Please, lift yourself off the ground. I don’t deserve your praise-“

“You deserve so much more than that!”, Tanjiro interrupts in an instant.

“Leave her alone. Can’t you see that you’re making her uncomfortable?”, another voice mutters from behind.

A very familiar voice you haven’t heard in quite some time, that makes your heart jump up and down in joy.

“Genya!”, you cry out.

You waste no time. In an instant, you lunge yourself at the now much taller boy and wrap your arms around him so tightly that he cannot escape. Oh, you really missed him. Even though Sanemi states over and over how much he hates his little brother, you always had a weak spot for him. Maybe because you’re able to see his soft side as well or because of the cute way he blushes when you look at him.

“Genya, are you alright? Your face is so red-“

“SHUT UP”, he barks at Tanjiro while you giggle to yourself.

“Why didn’t you send me a crow like I told you to? I was beyond worried about you. But oh I’m so proud. Did you really help to kill an upper moon demon and supported your friends?”

“Well I-“

“Yes he did! He was a big help for all of us!”, Tanjuro interferes immediately.

“(y/n), didn’t I tell you we need to talk?”, someone suddenly barks from the inside.

All color drains from Genya’s face immediately as he turns around with you.

There he stands with his arms crossed in front of his muscular chest, eyes almost piercing through you while the vein on his forehead threatens to pop any minute.

Your heart sinks in an instant. No, don’t let him control you like that, not when you know that he’s just…jealous?

“I needed to talk to Genya first”, you clarify.

“(y/n), please don’t-“

“Oh, is that so? Why would you even look at that trash?”

Thick anger rushes through your veins like the flood. If there’s one thing you hate about Sanemi’s attitude, it’s the way he talks about his little brother.

“I’m looking at you as well, don’t I?”

He flinches ever so slightly, his furrowed eyes now piercing through you like a thousand knives.

“Get inside. Right now.”

“Get some rest you two”, you quickly shout over your shoulder before you disappear into the house with a furious Sanemi by your side.

He slams the door shut behind you so rapidly that it rains plaster.

“What was that, huh?”, he speaks out with threatening low voice.

“I asked your little brother about his mission.”

He cages you between the wall with no way to escape, dangerous eyes locked with yours.

“I told you to stay away from him.”

“And I told you that I don’t care.”

“Why don’t you leave, then?”

“Because I’m the only one who’s able to tame you down”, you bite back.

He huffs in sheer annoyance while pushing himself off the wall. Why does he have to look so vulnerable and strong at the same time, so scary but also mesmerizing?

“You won’t force me to talk to him”, he finally speaks out.

“I want him to leave the corps and get as far away from me as possible.”

“Away from you or away from the danger?”

“I don’t care about him.”

“So you don’t care about me as well?”

Thick silence hangs between both of you while you stare at each other. To this day he never revealed how he truly feels about you. Does he hate you, respect you, love you? You might never know. But your influence on him speaks for itself.

“Go to sleep. We’ll get up early tomorrow.”

Without another word, he leaves you standing in a new wave of ponderings and emotions.

-a few hours later-

Your eyes dart open for no reason. Aimlessly, your orbs roam around the dark room, ears searching for a single sound.

Voices. Shouting. Blows.

Blows?

“Big brother?”

Your heart drops to the floor. That’s Genya. Why does the floor start to vibrate now?

Out of instinct, you yank out of your room, follow a wave of destruction until you finally get what’s going on.

There they stand. Genya with fright written all over his face and Sanemi with orbs so empty you’re almost able to see through them.

Your guts turn uncomfortably as he speeds forward so fast that your eyes are almost unable to follow. Fuck, is he about to pierce through Genya’s eyes?

You waste no time. In the matter of milliseconds, you drag Genya to the ground and therefore safe him from Sanemi’s merciless attack.

“Sanemi.”

You breathe out his name like a prayer.

“Get out of line, (y/n).”

“I can’t allow you to hurt him!”, you cry out, hands still holding onto Genya’s trembling body for dear life.

“You leave me no choice, then.”

It happens faster than you’re able to think. He dashes forward while grabbing the handle of his sword tightly, his eyes and blade darted towards you.

But you don’t even think about leaving Genya. No, you stand your ground in front of him, glossy orbs watching as his blade crashes down straight towards your face.

Until it stops.

“I said move”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“And I said I won’t. Leave Genya alone.”

“Are you really putting up a fight with me, (y/n)? Here, right in front of everyone else?”

You couldn’t care less about the stinging fact that the others are watching you drowned in fear. This goes too far without any doubt.

“You don’t have to do this, Sanemi. Not when we both know you love your little brother dearly”, you breathe out.

“Come on Genya, let’s leave”, Tanjiro’s voice mutters behind you, causing a wave of relief to wash over you.

“I don’t love anyone. Not him, not you, I don’t give a shit about anyone around here”, Sanemi barks back at you with nothing but hatred spilling from his mouth.

Genya doesn’t deserve those words reaching his ear. But apart from that, you can’t escape the sting that fills your heart with agony.

Him, not loving anyone? Of course you never really expected the wind hashira to actually like you back. Of course even him respecting you is more than you could have ever asked for. But somehow you still hoped. Each and every night, you imagined what if would feel like to lay in his arms while listening to his steady heartbeat. Every free second, you pondered about how his lips must feel pressed against yours, how it feels to fall asleep and wake up next to him.

And now he tells you that you mean nothing to him.

You swallow hard, desperately trying to avoid his gaze at any cause. No, you can’t afford to lose yourself right here when everyone is watching.

Out of instinct, you straighten your shoulders and cross your arms in front of your chest.

“If that’s the case, I’m leaving. Good night, wind hashira.”

You don’t care about waiting for an answer. All you want to do right now is going back into your room, going back into safety where he’s not around. How stupid to even consider that Sanemi Shinazugawa could feel anything apart from a little respect for you. You, nothing but an ordinary slayer, still too weak to be called a real hashira. You, apparently nothing but a fool.

Hot tears start to swell up your eyes and cause your vision to get foggy. You never allowed yourself to cry over something so minor. What did you expect, a gut-wrenching love story? With the wind hashira?

“Why did you turn your back on me?”

You flinch so hard that you almost trip over your futon.

“What are you doing here?”, you cry out.

Fuck, this is him, without any doubt. What on earth is Sanemi doing in your room? Just now, when you’re looking like a mess.

“Are you crying?”

“Even if I do, why would you care?”

When your gaze drifts towards his, you feel like drowning and taking your first breath at the same time. He looks so distressed that your heart wrenches all over again. Like a lost puppy, he draws closer until he cages you against the wall. His eyes seem to stare right through your soul, make it hard to produce a single logical thought.

“Why would you even think that, idiot?”

His hand yanks your chin up, forces you to stare at him even more intensely.

“Because you said so yourself”, you bite back.

“You shouldn’t have interrupted me in the middle of teaching Genya a lesson.”

“Teaching him a lesson? You’re breaking that poor boy’s heart-“

“Breaking him? I’m saving him, goddamn!”, he blurts out so suddenly that you shake.

“Saving him? What are you t-“

“Poking his eyes out isn’t that big of a deal, he’d definitely survive. But his career at the demon slayer corps would have been over and out, he would have been saved”, he mumbles frantically.

“That would have meant he’s save, that would have meant he doesn’t die in this shit-“

“Sanemi”, your hands grab his face gently, try to get him out of his constant mumbling.

“He’ll die just like our mother did.”

“Sanemi.”

“I can’t fucking protect you all. Not when you’re around as well, not when you’re not listening just like he does-“

“Sanemi.”

When your eyes meet his, he looks like a troubled child scared of thunder. His glossy orbs stare at you desperately, make your heart ache all over again. All that rambling, giving Genya his coldest shoulder…to protect him?

“You’re just as reckless as him. Not looking out for yourself. What am I supposed to do without both of you around? What if I lose you two as well?”

“You won’t lose anyone, I’m good enough to-“

“How can you know?”, he screams into your face, his voice vibrating through every cell of your body like thunder.

“How can you promise you won’t die? One wrong move and you’re gonna bite the dust. Or you’re at the wrong place at the wrong time like Rengoku-“

It might be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done in your entire life, so reckless that you’ll lose Sanemi completely.

But you don’t care.

Before he’s able to talk about the grief within the past any further, you crash your lips against his while holding onto his face for dear life.

Over and over, again and again until your mind finally shuts up, until it’s only you and Sanemi and his puffy lips against yours.

He wraps his arms around you so tightly that you allow your knees to give in, bodies resting against each other so desperately that you feel like dreaming. Countless nights you pondered about the way his frame feels pressed against yours, what the wind hashira might taste like.

Oh, the reality is so much better, so good that you have to convince yourself you’re not dreaming.

“You’re driving me insane. Since the first time I saw you training with Obanai, since you beamed at me with that sickening gorgeous smile. I can’t escape you. I can’t fucking lose you”, he hisses against your mouth before entangling his tongue with yours all over again.

Sparks fly, stars take up your sight completely as you threaten to choke on all the affection and love that hits you with full force.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”, you breathe out.

“And risking you’ll never talk to me again? You have to be out of your mind.”

“I’m out of my mind because of you. Because you make me feel all those strange things”, you puff out.

Faster than you’re able to react, he pulls his face away from yours enough to almost drown inside your glossy orbs. For a moment, all the does is staring at you as you desperately gasp for air with your chest rising and falling rapidly. This really happened. Did you really make out with the wind hashira after he tried to murder his little brother, after all the fighting and rambling of today?

“You’re my weakness, (y/n)”, he finally blurts out.

“And I hate that power you have over me. Especially that everyone else knows it.”

You tilt your head to the side. Oh, that’s so true. After all, this is the reason why you were sent here. You are here to make sure he doesn’t go too rough on his students, that his hot temper is kept at least a little cool.

Well, given the heat that radiates from him at this very moment, the last part definitely didn’t go as planned.

“They know about my feeling for you as well.”

His eyes widen while he stares you up and down in sheer disbelief.

“Stop fucking with me”, he grumbles.

“You were too blind to realize that I loved you for so long while I didn’t even think about the opportunity that you might like me back”, you admit with your cheeks turning as hot as the sun.

“You fool.”

He yanks your chin towards his face, a small smile decorating his usual so irritated face.

“I’ll definitely never let you go again now.”

His lips crash into yours and leave your mind blank all over again.

“But I’ll still kick your ass for talking to me so disrespectfully and interfering with Genya.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine (thank you sooo much for helping me creating reader for the cover)

[mariasont]

Give This Old Man a Heart Attack - A.H

a/n: incredibly self-indulgent per usual because i'm the biggest cry baby to ever exist

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: you make a mistake that almost gets you killed and hotch has a few choice words about it

warnings: slight angst, happy endings, established relationship, you're in trouble, suggestive ending nothing crazy, hotch is a sucker and gives in way too easily to you

wc: 0.9k

You were an idiot. You were so utterly stupid, and you could feel the heat coursing through you, prickling at your fingertips and scorching your ears. You had braced yourself for this moment all day, but the sheer anger in Hotch's eyes was something no amount of bracing could shield you from.

You were quite accustomed to his eerily tranquil expression, often misleading, like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Today though, you were the focus of that discerning stare. 

"Do you understand that gravity of your actions today?"

You were fighting every urge to cry. Confrontation had always been your Achillies' heel, a fact that seemed laughable given your line of work.

You weren't talking about the type of confrontation that came with gunning down unsubs or running into burning buildings. No, it was the intimate kind, the kind that involved the disappointment in the eyes of those you cared about, those you respected, especially him.

So here you stood, tears simmering at the edges of your vision, your hands fidgeting and folding over themselves, knuckles whitening with the pressure.

Your lips parted, ready to speak, to defend yourself, but the rising lump in your throat held the words captive. Silence seemed like the better choice, so you offered a nod instead.

Hotch's hand briefly obscured his face, thumb and middle finger pressing against the bridge of his nose, as he cast a handful of documents onto his desk. They landed haphazardly, a chaotic reflection of the mistakes you made on this case.

"You could've gotten killed." Each word was forced out between clenched teeth. Never a good sign. "In fact, you were this close."

You felt his assessment was inflated, but now was definitely not the right time to point that out. You swallowed the rising retort and cautiously shifted a fraction closer to the desk, eyes flicking to the closed door behind you.

"I'm sorry, Aaron," you said softly, voice betraying the slightest fracture. "It won't happen again."

The sound of your strained syllables caused his head to jerk up. Contrarily, you recoiled, bowing your head into your chest as you feigned interested in the carpet's intricate threads. It was an interesting color. 

You failed to register him circling the desk. Not until the space between you was nearly nonexistent. The toe of his shoes just within your field of view. They were semi-brogue oxfords. His favorite.

The accumulated emotions of the week finally broke through, your shoulders trembling as you frantically brushed away the mortifying tears with your sleeve, only to feel his hands on your shoulders, drawing you into his chest.

"No, no," you protested, but the resistance in your voice was absent in your actions, as you found yourself easily giving into the warmth of his chest. "Don't feel bad for me just because I'm crying."

He said nothing, just a faint hum that filled the space, the vibrations sending ripples across your cheek. 

"You—, you were reprimanding me," you paused to sniffle, "and I deserve to be reprimanded. I know what I did was stupid."

"It was." His hand lay on your back, thumb circling lightly through your dress shirt, nearly burning through the fabric. "But I'm not going to continue to berate you when I feel as though you've learned your lesson."

"You weren't berating me," you mumble against his shirt.

"I made you cry."

When you looked up, your saw the concern etched on his face, brows pinched, a frown marring his handsome face. His hands cradled your face, thumbs gently clearing the tears as you breathed out a sigh.

"I think you know me well enough to know that it doesn't take much to make me cry."

This was true. You kept your emotions were always close to the surface, whether from happiness, sadness, or sheer frustration. 

Once you had sobbed over the unequal lengths of your shoelace bows. Morgan then proceeded to ask if you had ever been tested for autism.

"It doesn't make it any more disheartening to see," he said, shifting his hands to rest on your shoulders. He looked tired and it made you want to cry all over again.

"Would you feel that way if I was Reid?" You asked. It was a loaded question. One you peppered him with often.

You had strived to draw clear lines between your professional and personal lives, but moments like this made it very difficult. 

He didn't even bother you with a response, and he didn't need to. You knew the answer.

Another quick look over your shoulder, and you pressed a swift kiss to his lips. There was a moment of hesitation from him, the stickler for rules that he is, but soon his restraint gave way, his hand seeking you with a desperate intensity.

He drew back just enough to study your face, like he was trying to commit every detail to memory, like he was making sure you were really there.

"You really scared me today," he confessed, your foreheads resting together as your eyes locked.

"I know."

"Please don't do that again," he implored, pausing only to plant another quick kiss on your upper lip. "This old man's heart can only take so much."

You beamed at him with a cheeky smile. "I can't make any guarantees."

As you headed for the door, he sent a quick slap to your ass, drawing out a bubbly giggle that vibrated through the room.

That old man's heart definitely might give out after what you had planned for tonight.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[harmonysanreads]

Ratio looks like he'd fold after two genuine compliments and not just ones about his looks or intelligence. Bro would not be able to handle actual genuine words from someone because he's so damn used to hollow words from fans and haters alike (I don't care if this is ooc its true in my heart)

No no, I agree with you.

People tend to take compliments too lightly, let whatever escape their mouths often carelessly. The act of giving compliments can be honed into an art with practice, the gesture of taking them gracefully can be considered as a mark of maturity and class. Simply put, you can tell a lot about a person based on how they give and receive compliments.

The academic field is privy to many kinds of drama. Back-handed compliments thrive in the radius around ‘geniuses’, ‘prodigies’ and the ‘talented’. Unless you hear it from certain people, delivered in very specific tones, you won't even know just how easily positive words can be twisted to feel like insults. Ratio is intimately familiar with this phenomenon.

It took some struggle, reflection, trial and error until he understood the sheer absurdity of the situation. By then, it was more funny than hurtful to him. Oh, the scope of idiocy. Ratio prefers words in communication to be direct and transparent, though he won't deny that nuance and implication have their own charm when used appropriately.

Ratio might not appear so due to his default disposition, but he's actually quite good at complimenting — given that he finds something genuinely admirable about the person. Take his party-joining voicelines about Ruan Mei and Herta for example. But because of the factor that needs to be met to be complimented by the man, his words of appreciation are often posed as statements (e.g. his voiceline about Screwllum). Which could make his compliments hard to believe if you happen to struggle with receiving them.

Now, the first thing that comes to my mind if we're looking for ‘that’ compliment which will be successful in flustering him ; is to try to learn and understand his ideology, values, ambitions and mindset by extension. Difficult task, I know, but studying Veritas Ratio is unavoidable if we're talking about him. Of course, Ratio enjoys studying everything around him even more, so to catch someone this perceptive off-guard is a bit of a challenge.

Well, it's not possible to understand a human in their entirety, so the effort is of greater importance. Observe, question (and don't be dismayed by his sharp comebacks), reflect, apply what you learned and always try to be genuine. There is no way Ratio won't notice honest efforts.

I don't know why but I have this nagging feeling that compliments about his appearance can also do the trick. Perhaps it's because they could've become somewhat scarce since he started using the alabaster head. But don't just randomly go, "You're so handsome! Your eyes are so pretty!" True as they may be, try to point something he hasn't considered or heard, challenge him. “I appreciate the way you maintain your hair. The neatness and your choice of accessory is pleasant to the eyes.” is something that I'd probably go for. This has greater chances of working if you've made a place in his head through the first suggestion, so to say.

And when, after all that hard work, you do succeed — Ratio is a sight to see. If there was some sort of microscope to gauge the transition of human emotions when they receive compliments, it'd paint such an entertaining picture. First is a scintilla of surprise, then you get a flicker of joy which ignites into flames of emotions too jumbled to decipher — Ratio's cheeks and ears will be guilty of letting them escape. If you don't seem to get any coherent response from the scholar even after an interval of patience, just know that Ratio.exe has stopped working.

[mrsfancyferrari]

Just One Kiss

Summary: You & Charles are just best friends but when he wins in his home for the first time, things might change

Song: Reflections - The Neighbourhood

Author’s note: Congratulations to Charles Leclerc for winning in his first home Monaco Grand Prix! This is my first F1 story and I recently started following F1 so please give constructive criticism.

Word count: 2.4k

Your best friend was racing across the last track, and you held your breath, anticipating the outcome. The crowd was on their feet, cheering and shouting as the finish line approached.

As he sprinted towards the end, you could see the determination behind his helmet, the sheer will to win. And then, in a burst of speed, he crossed the finish line, victorious.

The stadium erupted in applause, celebrating his incredible feat of athleticism and the months of hard work and training that had led to this moment.

His victory at the Monaco Grand Prix was not only a personal triumph but also a historical moment for his team. It marked his first win on this iconic track, solidifying his status as a rising star in the world of Formula 1 racing.

The streets of Monte Carlo were filled with joy and excitement as fans and fellow drivers alike celebrated his remarkable achievement.

As you joined in the jubilant celebration, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and admiration for your best friend. You had witnessed firsthand the countless hours of dedication and sacrifice he had poured into his career.

From early mornings at the gym to late nights studying data and analyzing race strategies, he had truly given his all.

And now, as you stood among the crowd, you knew that this victory was just the beginning of an extraordinary journey that would undoubtedly lead him to even greater heights in the world of Formula 1 racing.

As soon as he parked close enough, he jumped out of his racing car and ran over to his team with happiness. They embraced him with open arms, their faces beaming with pride and joy.

Together, they celebrated this monumental victory, knowing that it was the result of their collective effort and unwavering support. The atmosphere was electric, and the moment will forever be etched in their memories as a symbol of their shared triumph and unbreakable bond.

You squeezed through the crowd, determined to catch a glimpse of your best friend before he headed for the podium. Finally, you spotted him, his face still flushed with the adrenaline of the race.

You shouted his name, waving your arms to get his attention, and when he saw you, a wide smile spread across his face. He made his way towards you, and in that moment, you felt an overwhelming sense of pride and happiness for his incredible achievement.

As he ran over to you, a surge of joy and excitement overcame both of you. He engulfed you into a tight hug, lifting you up off the ground.

You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on tightly as the exhilaration of the moment washed over you. The crowd roared in applause, their cheers blending with the sound of your friend's racing heartbeat, creating a symphony of triumph and friendship that echoed through the streets of Monte Carlo.

Placing you back down, you both looked at each other in silence, something you two started doing recently. It was as if words were no longer necessary to understand each other's thoughts and feelings.

"You did it," You whispered, unable to control the tears gushing down your face.

Charles grinned, "Yeah, I did, with you by my side," he said, his voice filled with gratitude and emotion.

While you played with his hair on the back of his head, you smiled back at him.

As if something had possessed you, you quickly leaned in and placed a quick kiss on Charles' lips.

Both of you were shocked by your actions, your eyes widening in surprise as you pulled away from the unexpected kiss.

What have you done?

The atmosphere around you seemed to pause for a moment, as if time itself had frozen, before the crowd erupted into a mix of gasps and cheers, unable to believe what they had just witnessed.

Charles heard his manager call him, and as he quickly glanced back, his eyes met yours. He smiled, a mix of excitement and uncertainty in his expression, and said, "I'll talk to you when I come back, promise."

He left the embrace and followed his manager, disappearing into the crowd as he made his way towards the podium. As you stood there, still in shock from the unexpected kiss, you couldn't help but wonder how this moment would change everything between you and Charles.

The crowd continued to cheer, but in that fleeting moment, you both knew that something had shifted between you, and there was no going back. . . . .

You couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt as the laughter of Daniel echoed across the room as you explained your issue to him. It was clear that he found the situation amusing, and it made you question whether confiding in him was the right decision.

"Come on, don't be so hard on yourself," Daniel replied, his laughter subsiding.

"It's not every day that you accidentally kiss your best friend. But hey, maybe this could be the start of something amazing between you two."

You sighed, still unsure of how to navigate the complex emotions swirling within you. "I don't know, Daniel," you said softly. "I'm just worried that this kiss might ruin our friendship."

"Don't worry too much," Daniel reassured you. "Who knows, this could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship."

"Exactly, maybe finally my favorite ship will get together," Oscar added, coming out of nowhere to join the conversation.

You lightly punched Oscar's arm for his comment, trying to hide your blush and dismiss his teasing. Deep down, though, you couldn't help but wonder if he was right, and if this unexpected kiss with Charles could truly lead to something more than just friendship.

"Just think about it, you two would look too cute together!" Oscar said while holding his arm in 'pain'.

"This is not what I meant when I asked for advice," you muttered, keeping an eye out of the Monegasque.

"Our advice is to ask him out, no ifs or buts," Daniel started.

"But," you interrupted, "what if he doesn't feel the same way? I don't want to risk losing our friendship."

Daniel sighed, understanding your hesitation. "I get it, but you'll never know unless you try. And if there's a 100 percent chance he says yes, then maybe it's worth taking the leap."

"But what if there's also a 100 percent chance he says no?" you countered, your voice wavering with uncertainty.

Daniel paused, considering your question. "Well," he finally said, "then at least you'll have closure and can move on without any regrets."

As the boys left you, you couldn't help but mull over their advice. The idea of asking Charles out was both exhilarating and terrifying, but deep down, you knew that regretting never taking a chance would be even worse.

It didn't take you long to find out that Charles, along with the rest of his team, were celebrating their victory by the dock.

His smile was enough to make you retreat. The warmth in his eyes and the genuine happiness he exuded made you momentarily remember about doubts of asking him out.

Maybe, just maybe, you were content with keeping things as they were for now, cherishing the friendship you had with Charles.

The party was a lively affair, with colorful decorations adorning the dock and laughter filling the air. Families, drivers, and workers mingled together, sharing stories and celebrating the team's victory.

The aroma of delicious food wafted through the crowd, enticing everyone to indulge in the festive feast. The atmosphere was filled with a sense of camaraderie and joy, as people danced to the upbeat music and raised their glasses in cheers.

It was a true celebration of hard work and success, and you couldn't help but feel grateful to be a part of such a vibrant and supportive community.

As you observed the lively celebration from the corner, you took a moment to gather your thoughts and plan what you would say to Charles when you finally had a chance to speak with him.

Having given up on love, you found yourself scrolling through the online world looking for signs that he might be interested in you and what to say when you want to confess your feelings.

Maybe instead of relying on online advice or searching for signs, it might be best to have an open and honest conversation with Charles.

Find a quiet moment during the celebration to approach him, express your feelings sincerely, and ask if he would be interested in exploring a romantic relationship. By directly communicating your emotions, you can avoid misunderstandings and have a clearer understanding of where you both stand-

As you were lost in your thoughts, suddenly your chin was raised up and your eyes were forced off your phone and look into the eyes of Charles. His gaze was intense, and you could see a hint of curiosity and intrigue.

He then leaned in closer as he tilted your head up, his lips brushing against yours for seconds, and you could taste the salty sea water from when he jumped into the docks.

You were taken aback by the unexpected kiss, the taste of salty sea water lingering on your lips.

"Hey, can we talk somewhere else in private?" Charles asked desperately.

"Ye- Yeah," you stuttered, having Charles lead you with his hand in yours out of the party. Your heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness as you followed him, wondering what he wanted to talk about in private.

As you stayed silent, your mind raced with possibilities of what Charles wanted to discuss in private. Was he going to reciprocate your feelings? Or was there something else entirely on his mind?

The anticipation and uncertainty only fueled your curiosity as you both entered the closest empty room.

Charles let go of your hand as soon as the room was secure, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. It was as if the connection you had just shared was abruptly severed, leaving you longing for his touch once more.

"Are you going to start or should I?" Charles asked as he leaned against a piece of furniture, his eyes never leave you.

The intense eye contact he made made you feel as though your legs were suddenly giving out.

"I don't know what you're talking about?" you muttered, avoiding his eyes at all costs.

"Well, I'm thinking about the kiss you gave me in front of national television," he stated. His voice was filled with a mix of amusement and disbelief.

The realization hit you like a wave, and you couldn't help but blush at the thought of the millions of people who saw that intimate moment between the two of you.

"And I can't stop wondering if it was just in the moment or if there's something more between us."

You shake your head vigorously, denying any deeper meaning behind the kiss. "It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean for it to be taken seriously."

There could never be anything between the two of you anyway. The public would never allow it. Just deny it.

"Mon chérie, are you sure? Because your expressions say otherwise," he teased as he started to walk over to you, his playful smile revealing that he saw through your denial.

The way he closed the distance between you made your heart race even faster, and you couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was a possibility for something more between you and Charles after all.

Charles always loved to tease you in every way possible. Either it was placing your cup on the top shelf or holding your phone in the air, he was always determined to tease you these days.

But this was different.

"No, Charles, I'm certain. It was just a momentary lapse in judgment, nothing more," you insisted, desperately clinging to the denial. Deep down, you knew that pursuing anything with Charles would only lead to heartbreak and disappointment.

It was better to keep your feelings buried and maintain the illusion of friendship.

As Charles stood in front of you, barely any space between you two, his eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made it hard to maintain your denial.

The air crackled with tension, and despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, there could be something more between you and Charles.

"Want to try again to see if it was just a 'momentary lapse'?" he asked, raising your chin again. His words sent a shiver down your spine, tempting you to give in and explore the possibility of something more.

His lips were hovering over yours, teasing you with the possibility of what could be. The air between you was charged with anticipation, and it took every ounce of willpower to resist the temptation and maintain your denial.

"Just say it," He muttered, "Just say it and I'll do the rest."

But as you looked into his eyes, you couldn't deny the truth that they held. They were filled with a longing and desire that mirrored your own, and in that moment, you knew that your denial was futile.

"I want you," you finally whispered, surrendering to the undeniable connection between you and Charles.

Charles captured your lips with such hunger, his kiss filled with the years of unspoken longing and desire that had been building between you. In that moment, you both knew that there was no turning back, and that the possibility of something more had become an undeniable reality.

Your hands wrapped around his neck as you deepened the kiss, losing yourself in the intoxicating passion that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.

In that moment, you both knew that you were no longer able to deny the magnetic pull between you, and that surrendering to this forbidden love was inevitable.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice barely audible in the midst of your passionate embrace.

Charles's eyes softened, filled with a mix of joy and relief, as he murmured, "I love you too," sealing your fate in a love that had been yearning to be acknowledged. . . .

[with-my-calamitous-love]

HELP ME HOLD ONTO YOU / WE WILL NEVER GO BACK

katsuki bakugou x reader

after the war, katsuki still deals with the trauma and the hurt. in a moment of what he thinks is weakness, you help him through a panic attack.

based on a convo i had with @suksatoru ❄️

inspired by the archer + the great war

after the war, he’s seen cruelty. he knows it well.

his knuckles were bruised like violets, long after his injuries healed and his blood stopped escaping him. the flashes of the battle still came back to him in hazy blurs. he’s got a hundred thrown out speeches, things he could still say but doesn’t.

he was now the #1 hero. he married you and became one of the most well-respected men in the country. he survived the war. but he still feels like the hero in him, maybe just a small part, died alongside those undeserving villains.

he’s getting old, and he knows what it feels like to be on both sides. he’s been the archer, and he’s been the prey. he survived, but now more eyes were on him. he could survive the battle, but now, he wasn’t sure if he could survive ever knowing if he’ll live up to what he’s made out to be.

the great, mighty explosion king katsuki bakugou actually had doubts about himself.

and he can't thank you enough for being there for him. things have been insanely stressful lately. theres been more crime and more unrest, and he feels like he's going to go insane from sheer exhaustion. the room is on fire, but only for him. theres invisible smoke only he can see. where everyone sees a strong, selfless hero, katsuki sees a soldier returning only half his weight.

right now, he’s pacing like a ghost. he’s just gotten home and somehow, all the oxygen has been swept from his lungs. he feels his knees get weak as he tried to make sense of it all- the bloodshed and those crimson clovers. if he survived, why did he feel like punishing himself for things he never did? why was he justifying it?

he hates his reflection. he has for years. all of his heroes, everyone he’s believed in has died, all alone and away from him. apart of him is waiting for that dark side, that sign that he isn’t actually alright here.

he sinks down on the couch, defeated. he doesn’t even realize he’s crying.

not until you gently cup his face, and wipe away his tears.

he blinks, breathing still ragged. he acknowledges that you’re there but can’t make out anything. his vision is blurred with salt streams.

the sound of your voice, asking him whats wrong, barely registers in his mind. his red eyes search to find you, and you can see that pain. he’s hurt. he’s wounded. and he’s pretending that he isn’t.

“breathe.” you whisper. he honestly expects you to yell, to slap him back to reality. but you don’t. you hush him to safety. “breathe, katsuki.”

he tries to follow your instruction, focusing on his breathing. he tries to ruminate on the feeling of your hands gently rubbing his back, or the subtle weight in his lap, and the feeling of your hair against his skin. but god dammit, it's hard.

he’s struggling to keep his breathing regulated, taking short, shaky breaths, as he continues to hold onto you.

you take his hand, and place it over your beating heart. somewhere in the haze, you’re helping him hold onto you.

and he feels it. the steady, reassuring beats of your heart. the rhythm of blood pumping through your veins. he takes in the feeling, letting it wash over his senses. he can slowly feel the panic start to subside, his breaths coming out more regularly, at least for a moment. he can still faintly feel his heart pounding against his chest, and his breaths stuttering every now and again. he’s terrified that at any moment, the panic will take over again. he never wants to go back to that.

you take his face in your hands, making sure he’s listening. “nod if you can understand me.”

he nods, trying to focus on your words. the feeling of your hand on his face, and the touch of your forehead against his- it's grounding him. its helping him to calm down, and he's so fucking grateful for that. even though his legs are shaking, and he's still holding onto you desperately, he nods, letting you know that he's still conscious. he wasn’t gonna let this win. he was stronger than it. you made him stronger.

“feel around… you’re on the couch, your feet are on the ground. your hand is over my heart. you’re safe, katsuki.” you whisper.

he does as he's told. he feels the soft fabric of the couch under him. his feet and legs firmly planted on the ground, and can feel the warmth of your heart through your chest, and the way it's beating so steadily. he’s safe. he’s home. he’s with you.

you reassure him more, telling him he’s doing so good. and he is, evident by the way his breathing steadies down. after a few more minutes, his eyes blink open. and you couldn’t be happier.

“you back with me, kats?” you softly smile, seeing his red eyes lose their tears.

he sighs, burying his head into your shoulder. “yeah. i’m here.”

he’s embarrassed.

you stroke the back of his neck, letting him rest on you. he’s tired, and he’s scared. you know you have to address what caused this, but for now, you give him this grace of silence.

“do you wanna talk about it?” you whisper.

suddenly, the war turned into something much bigger. it wasn’t a just a battle, it was something that stayed with him for years. somewhere in the haze, he’s scared of betrayal. that soon, everyone will see through him. even he sees right through him.

“i don’t know where to start.” he quietly groans.

you nod, understanding. “just… tell me whats on your mind.”

he swallows again, his mind still fuzzy, trying to figure out what to say. theres just so much that he’s thinking about right now, but he knows he needs to tell you. he can’t keep bottling it all up. so after a few deep breaths, he finally speaks up.

"….i’m exhausted, babe.” he sighs, like he’s confessing to a crime. “everything’s been so goddamn stressful lately. work has been insane, and… i just feel like i can't catch a break. i just… i wish i had more time away from it. to just… i don't know. decompress."

it doesn’t fully articulate everything he’s feeling, but it does give you a good idea of where this is all coming from.

you sigh, stroking his cheek and pointing out the one thing he’s afraid to admit to himself.

“katsuki, you have trauma.” you say. “the war left its marks on you. you can’t just expect it all to go back to normal.”

he feels like he’s down in icy ground. he doesn’t want to admit how much its hurt him- but it has. all the kings horses and all the kings men couldn’t put him together again.

“…i didn’t think i’d survive this long.” he whisper. and it breaks your heart.

he’s unable to take back those words. it’s true. he didn’t think he would survive the war. he didn’t think he was going to make it out, and that’s exactly what he’d mentally prepared himself for. and now that he’s here, and the war is over…

he’s struggling to cope with that fact. he feels lost, unsure of how to deal with surviving.

“you survived.” you whisper. “you survived but now you’re at war with yourself.”

he nods slowly. that perfectly sums up his feelings. heMs not fighting villains anymore, but that doesn’t stop the war from going on inside of him.

he’s fighting the memories. the nightmares. the constant pressure of being a hero. the constant pressure of living up to everyone’s expectations.

and he’s scared he’ll lose that fight.

“the war took apart of you you’ll never get back.” you whisper. “but… healing isn’t about becoming the person you were before. its about accepting you’ll never fully understand it, and maybe never fully be okay with it.”

katsuki bites down on his bottom lip, your words sinking in his mind. that’s something he’s been struggling to accept for a while now- that he won’t ever just be the person he was before all of this. something about him has changed. permanently.

he nods slowly, your words slowly and gradually beginning to make him feel a little better. it’s so reassuring, having you there with him right now.

“you are a hero, and you are #1. that doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to hurt. it happened to you and it hurt you. you’ll never heal if you pretend you weren’t wounded.” you whisper again. “just because you carry it well doesn’t mean its not heavy.”

your words hit him straight in the heart. you’re absolutely right. he’s never really stopped to consider that he doesn’t have to pretend to be strong, or that it’s okay to let those walls come down, even a little. he’s allowed to be vulnerable. he’s allowed to be hurt by what happened to him.

“i… i keep feeling like i’m constantly on that damn battlefield. i keep seeing it every time i’m alone. and i just… i haven’t slept properly in days.”

you nod, understanding.

“you aren’t your worst days. you aren’t what happened to you.” you remind him. honestly, he’s needed that reminder.

he hugs you tighter, like you’re the one thing keeping him afloat right now. he wonders who could possibly stay with him, let alone love him like you do.

“they ripped your heart out of your chest. no one gets to decide how much you bleed.” you tell him. because you see how much he’s trying to force the wound closed, burning himself and only worsening his pain. he hasn’t healed because he’s too scared of the hurt.

“…you really mean that?” he says, red eyes searching for lies.

he finds none, even as you nod and tell him you mean every word.

he isn’t sure what to say anymore. so when words fail, he cups your face and pressed two gentle kisses to your forehead. he survived the war, and now he will always be yours.

“i love you.” he whispers. “so damn much, idiot.”

you smile, his usual asshole-self back on the table. your arms throw around him, hugging him even tighter.

he realizes then that you could, and you will stay.

[wordbunch]

oh, how unreasonable [Halbrand]

LONG A/N: I hope yall have lots of fun and feels while reading this, and I am living for any comments and impressions ♡ if it is slight ooc, I really don't care. If you don't consider Halbrand a warning in itself, then the only warning I have is occasionally suggestive conversation.

❗️this is essentialy Halbrand x my OC Díorien (she), who is a half-elf with the other half of her roots unknown, but there are no physical descriptions - feel free to consider it a reader insert. The only extra bit of knowledge is that she can use fire magic (hence multiple fire references), she is more-less one of the elves but not fully, and is very much on the fence about who to side with. A girl is struggling

I wholeheartedly recommend these 2 songs for the mood ♡

“So it is true.” 

“What is?”

“That evil never sleeps?” Díorien’s face appeared in warm candlelight amid the dark room. Her eyes scanned the figure in front of her with equal parts disdain and intrigue.

“Ever so witty, my queen,” Halbrand cackled, positioned in front of the door of Díorien’s private chambers. “How could I sleep, knowing you are here, and not by my side in a realm of our own creation?”

Cautiously he began to approach her bed, thick darkness everywhere except for the cool glow of the moon through the large window above her headboard, and the candle in her hand she had lit seconds ago. Fitting. 

“What brings you here?” she inquired dryly, pretending with all her might that his presence in the dead of night wasn’t making her shiver from head to toe. Having just awoken abruptly, she needed a few moments to wrap her head around the situation and realize she was dressed only in a delicate, sheer nightgown with sheets bunched up around her waist and legs. Swallowing thickly, Díorien decided to just pretend she was dressed properly - however, she was convinced Halbrand could see right through her anyway. Somehow he was always able to. 

“What brings me here is…” he began, voice heavy with something inexplicable, “the fact that the most enchanting, strong, passionate woman in the world, does not want to partake in that world with me.”

“But how could I, Halbrand?” She defended herself, not fully convinced she stood behind her own words. The way his eyes pored over her vulnerable form in the candlelight pulled the very ground from beneath her feet. “Y-you want me to-”

“I want you to rule with me, I want you to be my other half, I want you to come with me somewhere you will be not cast aside, but worshipped.” All decorum aside, Halbrand sat on the edge of her bed, and he could see her swallow thickly. If he said that heat wasn’t overcoming his whole body in her presence, that would be a very transparent lie, since that usually was the effect that she had on him. And he knew that she knew about it very well. “They do not understand you. They do not drive you to grow greater, to aim for more - they do not see you the way that I see you, Díor.” He was sliding one hand slowly over the mattress towards Díorien’s hand which was tightly clutching the silky sheets. “I know how that feels, my starlight, because that is how they are to me as well. But not you. Not you. You know my mind like you have walked the very steps inside of it. And I - I see the greatness that burns within you, the flame that terrifies everyone else, except someone who has walked through fire before.” His voice was quiet and gruff, but with an edge of persistence.

“Halbrand-” she whispered, furrowed eyebrows reflecting her inner turmoil.

“When you say my name like that, I am willing to throw the rest of the world away and just live in you instead.” He interrupted her eagerly, but she cleared her throat, determined to continue.

but you’ve come to offer, i’m here to receive / your face is my gospel, your body my creed / bring me to your altar, drop me to my knees / the more i worship, the more i believe 

“You are asking me to betray my own kin-”

“And you would betray your own heart.”

His calloused hand found his way to her closed fist and wrapped around it. Had the windows not been open and graciously letting in a light breeze, Díorien would have combusted then and there. In spite of that, she allowed him to touch her. 

“Do I not make you feel better than any of them, my queen? Do I not make you feel euphoric, boundless? I find it hard to believe you have already forgotten how we relished in each other, away from any judgemental glare,” he pressed with a deceitful pout. His other hand found its way to her bare shoulder, his touch almost scathing in the crackling air.

“Even when I try to bury those memories, they come back all the stronger, and I tremble every time I feel the ghost of your lips on my body” she admitted earnestly, her eyes bearing a striking vulnerability. “I feel you even when I least wish to do so, but I do not believe you and your proposals and schemes.”

it’s not fair, oh, it’s not fair how much i love you / it’s not fair ‘cause you make me ache, you bastard

Halbrand sighed away a self-satisfied smile, composing himself before speaking up once again. “You would not be betraying any of them - I need you to establish a new order with me, I need you to save your beloved world with me. You would not be betraying anyone, quite the contrary, you would be their savior, and nobody would have any right to pass you any judgment.”

There were a few steady beats of silence, the only moving thing the meek, flickering flame of a single candle on the windowsill, and the light that it cast on all around it. 

“Do you speak of betrayal because you were conditioned to do so, or because you feel that way truly? You speak of your kin, but are they, really? What makes you anymore closely bound to any of them, than it does to me? Had you been so important to each other, you wouldn’t have been treated like some lesser-”

Díorien interrupted his barrage of questions before his voice could adopt an even more venomous tone than it just had.

“And what do you know of true feelings, of truth in any capacity?” She chuckled dryly, hoping to have finally caught him off guard. In that moment, the only perfectly true thing about her was the fact that she was holding onto her morality by a thread, weakening by the second. He knew too well exactly where to hit her, and how, and she was aware that she had entered a battle inevitably to be lost. 

“The way I feel with your hands on me is the only measure of truth I need. You are the very flame of my heart.” 

Whether her senses and sanity were failing, or was there something so genuine and frail in the way he delivered his confession, there was no way to tell. Their eyes met as an abundance of feelings grazed his facial expression. 

and if you asked me to, if you asked me, i would lose it all / like petals in a storm / ‘cause darling, i was born to press my head between your shoulder blades, at night when light is fading

The thread weakened to become next to nothing. Against her better judgment, Díorien reached out a warm hand to remove a stray curl that had fallen over Halbrand’s eyes. He himself was growing uncertain of what exactly he was holding onto. Perhaps it was just her existence, just her closeness, her overt ferocity and her inescapable radiance. He only knew he wanted more of it, all of it, until the end of all the ages of the world. 

“But if your plan for a newly established perfect harmony fails, what then, Halbrand?” Díorien’s tone was stiff yet hushed, but it was all false pretenses; those troubled eyes, unruly hair and towering height had broken through her guard one too many times already. She sat there, defeated, all but vibrating with things left unsaid, and the expectations of things yet to be heard. 

“We would still have one another,” he retorted with a pinch of desperation in his voice, and you would still have thousands… millions, under your merciful hand.” He touched her jawline, brushing over her lower lip with his thumb. “And me, merely a breath away from your lips.” Halbrand’s eyebrow twitched upwards ever so slightly; she would have missed it had she not been so familiar with almost all of his crevices and corners. “You would have tried saving the elves, saving Middle-earth, if that is necessary to still your conscience. But failure of my mission or not - in the end you still come out a winner. We do.” His hand found her trembling fingers, firmly bringing them to his lips, never ceasing to hold her gaze. 

“When you look at me like that,” she whispered, subconsciously leaning into his touch and toward his face, “I find myself failing to draw a single breath,” she finished shakily, mentally cursing herself for falling under his influence time and time again. Although she had aimed to hold her ground, she was walking a thin line between the right choice and the reckless one. But, oh, the reckless one had a smile which made her forget her own name, and the rasp in his voice drowned out even the sweetest elven melodies. She wasn’t walking a line - she was falling over it right into the strong arms of her ravishing, twisted enemy (or at least whom she was raised to believe was one). 

Halbrand offered her a devilish, partially relieved, grin as he pulled her onto his lap in one swift motion, twisted sheets and all; she drew in a sharp breath weaving both of her hands into his unruly hair. Forehead against forehead, they were now painfully aware of both of their strained breathing and the thrill that was palpable in the, until very recently still, air. Díorien eagerly renounced the last bits of her poise as soon as his face was buried in her tender neck, his beard deliciously scratching her skin. However, as soon as she let out a sweet breath of pleasure, Halbrand moved away to look into her face again.

“Is that a yes, my queen?” he whispered, looking up at her through his lashes, his hands firmly dug into her hips. 

“It is anything you want it to be, my king,” her answer was hurried, desperate, starving, merely a millisecond before she collided her lips with his. 

It didn’t take long before Halbrand maneuvered them so that he was hovering over the wide-eyed girl with fire inside her body and heart.  

“I think it is time I make you forget all those wretched little excuses you tried giving me, darling,” he murmured into her skin before hastily blowing out the candle.

oh, how, oh how unreasonable / how unreasonably in love i am with everything you do / i’ll spend my days so close to you / ‘cause if i’m stood here, then i’m stood here / and i’ll stand here / i’ll stand here with you.

♡♡♡

shoutout to my most beloved 💖💖💖 @queenmeriadoc @lady-of-imladris

and @entishramblings i know you're not a ROP girl, but perhaps the writing style will be right up your alley 🥰

[spacechalk]

Glass

            After it was all over, Aziraphale sat on the edge of a bluff and let his feet hang over the side. Rivers and farmland stretched before him. In the distance he spotted a church crouched behind a copse of trees. His heel knocked loose a pebble. He watched it tumble into empty space and wondered what it would feel like to follow.

            Behind him he heard the gentle rumble of an engine. The sound of a door slamming shut was muted, as was the crunch of boots on gravel as someone approached. He didn’t look around.

            A wine bottle was thrust before his eyes. Automatically, he noted the vintage. He must have gone to some effort for this.

            “Drink?”

            Aziraphale nodded.

            Crowley dropped beside him, sending another cascade of pebbles down the cliff. He produced two wine glasses and handed one to the angel.

            Once the wine had generously been decanted, Crowley knocked his glass against Aziraphale’s with a bright ring that vibrated through his fingers.

            “I believe congratulations are in order,” he said, taking a swig.

            “Hmm,” Aziraphale murmured. He peered into his glass. He could see his reflection along the outer rim.

            Crowley cleared his throat. “They underestimated you.” He hesitated, then made an aborted gesture with one hand. “I underestimated you.”

            Aziraphale took a long pull from his glass.

            Crowley planted his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, trying to catch Aziraphale’s eye. When the angel didn’t look up, he turned away, face etched with resignation. He kicked a heel against the cliff and watched dirt shower down.

            Aziraphale took this opportunity to eye the demon’s profile.

            “How does it work?” he asked.

            Crowley looked over his shoulder. “How does what work?”

            “No Heaven. No Hell.” The icy hand that had been stalking him the last few months seized his heart. “How do you know good from evil?” A dark void threatened to open up beneath his feet. If he put one foot wrong he would fall in and keep falling, forever. He struggled to breathe. “What if you can’t? What if there…isn’t? At all?”

            Suddenly there was a hand on his arm. He could hear his breath harsh in his ears as he looked at it. He looked up into Crowley’s yellow eyes.

            “It’s okay angel. Breathe.”

            Aziraphale could feel tears gathering in his eyes. “The sheer – arrogance,” he murmured, “to think that I – ”

            “Arrogant?” A strangled laugh struggled in the demon’s throat. “Aziraphale – you are the only person I met in all of Hell or Heaven who cared – at all – to even try to figure out what was right and wrong,” he said intently, every line of him leaning forward, eyes wide, trying to make him understand. “The arrogance to try? What about the arrogance of thinking you don’t have to?” His breath pulled rapidly in and out of his chest.

            The tears Aziraphale had been fighting spilled over.

            “I’m not sure this is going to be comforting but – I don’t think anyone knows for sure, certainly not me,” Crowley said. His grip on Aziraphale’s arm tightened. “I’m not sure that what the Almighty imparted in the garden was knowledge of good and evil so much that it was knowledge that everything is complicated and all of it matters so much. It deserves your conscience and your doubt. It deserves your best effort.”

            He tilted his head, tried to catch Aziraphale’s eyes. “I am not worried about you at all,” he said, lips quirking in an attempt at a smile. “You, who gave your sword away at the very Beginning. You’ve always had a heart for these things.”

            Aziraphale raised a hand to wipe his eyes and Crowley let go, turning to look out over the landscape below. Aziraphale immediately missed his grip; but he was still close, shoulders brushing together.

            “’Sides,” Crowley said, aiming for nonchalance and falling staggeringly short, “I’ll still be here. It’s easier together, I think.”

             Crowley looked out at the fields and Aziraphale looked at Crowley. He was swamped by the urge to put his head on Crowley’s shoulder and only just managed to resist it.

            Aziraphale looked into his glass. “About what you said – in the bookshop –” he began.

            Crowley flung up a hand to head him off. He drained the rest of his glass in one go. “We don’t need to talk about that,” he rasped.

            Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “Don’t we?”

            Crowley shook his head emphatically. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I said anything. Or…” He hesitated, his eyes dropping to Aziraphale’s lips before careening away. “…did, anything. You don’t need to say…what you’re going to say. I promise I won’t do it again.” He sloppily crossed his heart and pushed himself to his feet.

            Aziraphale listened to his footsteps crunching back toward the Bentley. A kind of calm anger poured in and began filling up his chest. His face set like stone. “That’s a shame,” he said out loud.

            The footsteps paused. “What was that?”

            “I said – ” Aziraphale pushed himself to his feet and turned around. Crowley stood halfway to the car, bottle and glass in one hand, keys in the other.

            “I said,” he said, “it’s a shame that you will never again tell me that you love me; will never kiss me again.” He twisted his hands together, fingernails biting into skin. “I was rather hoping you would.”

            Crowley stared at him.

            Aziraphale moved forward until they were only inches apart. He held Crowley’s eyes.

            Crowley hesitated for a long moment, searching his face. Finally he swayed forward, almost helplessly, head tilted, and pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s.

            Aziraphale inhaled sharply and leaned into the kiss. He brought one hand around to grip Crowley’s shoulder, and used the other to cup Crowley’s face. A tremor ran down Crowley’s body. Aziraphale brushed his thumb along Crowley’s jawline and deepened the kiss. That icy hand retreated and Aziraphale dared to hope he would learn how to keep it at bay. He felt like he had stepped outside in winter and found a patch of sun.

            He pulled back and smiled to himself at the dazed expression on Crowley’s face. “Do you want to get rid of…” he indicated the bottle and glass still in Crowley’s hand.

            Crowley slowly dragged his eyes away and looked at the offending objects. “Hm? Oh, right.” Unceremoniously, he tossed them away, stuffing the keys back into his pocket as he did so. His arms encircled Aziraphale and pulled him back in for another heady kiss.

            The glass hit the ground, but instead of shattering into shards, it shattered into seeds, which germinated far too rapidly, extending tender green shoots and fragile white roots until a patch of wildflowers had rooted in the gravel beside the road, an eddy of pink, red, purple, and impossible blue.

[marysfics]

The flowers came when the rain made you

As you’re growing, she seems frozen in time.

Slight Angst, Fluff

The first time Alexia brought you to Camp Nou, the stadium was empty.

She tugged at your hand, her touch firm but tender, guiding you through the players’ tunnel with an energy that was almost childlike. She was glowing—not with the confidence she wore in the public eye, but with something softer, more unguarded.

You’d seen her on the pitch before, commanding the field with a kind of grace that bordered on poetry. But here, stripped of the crowd’s roar and the pressure of expectation, she was just Alexia. A woman who had spent years carving her name into the history books, yet still sought the quiet solace of this sacred ground.

When you stepped out onto the grass, the sheer magnitude of the stadium made you pause. Rows upon rows of empty seats stretched skyward, their silence as deafening as the cheers they usually held. The air felt different here—charged, alive, yet hauntingly still.

Alexia tugged at your hand again, pulling you to the center of the field. “This,” she said, releasing you only to spin slowly in place, arms wide like a child greeting the sun, “is where I feel invincible.”

Her voice wavered on the word invincible, cracking slightly as if it wasn’t entirely true. You caught it—of course you did. She carried herself like an unstoppable force, but you had learned to read the moments when her strength faltered.

“You are invincible,” you whispered, stepping closer. Your arms slid around her waist, your chin resting gently on her shoulder.

She stilled in your embrace, leaning back into you as if drawing strength from your presence. Her breathing slowed, and for a heartbeat, you felt the weight she carried lift—just enough to let her relax against you.

“I don’t know,” she murmured, so quietly you almost missed it.

Her confession hung in the air, as vast and open as the field around you.

You tightened your hold on her, willing her to believe it, even if she couldn’t in that moment. “I do.”

Her head tilted slightly, her cheek brushing against yours. She closed her eyes, her lips curling into a faint smile, one that felt like a truce with herself.

For a while, the two of you stood there, your hearts beating in sync under the soft twilight. You didn’t need words to fill the space between you. The silence wasn’t empty; it was alive with the shared understanding that this—being here, together—was enough.

But later that night, the weight of whatever haunted her crept back in.

She’d insisted on walking through the city streets after dinner, her hand in yours as the golden glow of streetlights reflected off cobblestone. She talked about the game, her family, and the team’s upcoming schedule, but there was a distance to her voice. You could feel her slipping away, retreating into the fortress of her mind where you couldn’t reach her.

When you got home, she disappeared into the shower for longer than usual. By the time she joined you in bed, her silence was louder than ever.

She didn’t say goodnight, just slid under the covers and turned away, her back to you.

You reached out, hesitating before your fingers brushed against hers. You laced them together, squeezing gently, hoping it would tether her to the moment, to you.

But even then, her walls didn’t come down.

You laid there in the quiet, staring at the ceiling and wondering how someone who felt so invincible could seem so lost.

April’s Fool was the song playing on the radio when you first kissed her.

You were at a bar in Madrid, tucked into a corner booth where the noise of the crowd softened into a steady hum. The air was thick with the smell of beer, a faint haze of smoke lingering despite the no-smoking signs. Alexia sat beside you, her arm draped over the back of your chair, her fingers occasionally brushing against your shoulder as if she couldn’t bear the distance.

“You’re staring,” you teased, your voice playful but your cheeks warm under her gaze.

“Can’t help it,” she murmured, leaning closer. Her voice was low, intimate, a secret shared only with you. “You’re all I see.”

Her words hit you like a jolt, the sincerity in her eyes stealing the breath from your lungs. You tried to laugh it off, brushing her shoulder with your own. “You’re cheesy, you know that?”

“Maybe,” she admitted, her lips quirking into that half-smile that made your knees weak. “But it’s true.”

The song on the radio shifted, the first chords of April’s Fool cutting through the noise of the bar. The lyrics were melancholy, raw, a strange counterpoint to the bubbling excitement building in your chest.

You weren’t sure who moved first, whether it was her leaning in or you closing the gap. All you knew was the softness of her lips against yours, the way the world seemed to blur and fade until it was just her—her hands on your waist, her breath mingling with yours, her heart beating in time with the song.

It felt like fate, like the universe had aligned to bring you to this moment.

But now, months later, the song feels less like fate and more like a warning.

You’re changing. Growing.

You’ve started painting again, your once-dusty brushes now stained with vibrant hues. Your canvases, once blank and abandoned, are coming to life with bold strokes of color, each one a testament to the pieces of yourself you’ve begun to reclaim.

You laugh more, too. Not the polite, reserved kind you used to offer the world, but something freer, unrestrained. You’ve rediscovered the things that make you come alive—the books you used to lose yourself in, the morning runs where the world feels quiet and yours alone, the way sunlight dances on water.

And Alexia notices.

One morning, as you sit at the kitchen table sketching on the back of an old grocery list, she comes up behind you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders.

“You’re glowing,” she says, her voice tinged with awe. Her fingers trace lazy circles on your shoulder, her touch warm and familiar.

You tilt your head back to look at her, smiling as you reach up to cover her hand with yours. “Am I?”

“Mhm,” she hums, but there’s something in her expression—a flicker of sadness, of something unsaid.

“Hey,” you say softly, turning in your chair to face her. “What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Nothing. Just… I love seeing you like this.”

Her words warm you, but the shadow in her gaze lingers, and you can’t help but wonder what she’s holding back.

The thing is, while you’re growing, breaking free of old scars that used to define you, Alexia is standing still.

You’ve tried to pull her with you, to show her that life can be more than the weight she carries. But Alexia, for all her strength on the pitch, seems trapped in the confines of her own mind.

Some nights, you’ll find her sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at her hands as if searching for answers in the callouses and lines. Other nights, she’ll disappear onto the balcony with a glass of wine, her silhouette framed against the city lights, her thoughts as distant as the stars.

You try to reach her. To remind her that she doesn’t have to shoulder everything alone.

But Alexia, who can hold the world on her shoulders without flinching, struggles to let anyone else share the load.

“Come paint with me,” you suggest one afternoon, holding out a brush to her as she sits on the couch scrolling through her phone.

She looks up, startled, then smiles softly. “I’m terrible at painting.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you reply, grinning. “I am too, half the time. It’s not about being good—it’s about letting go.”

She hesitates, the wariness in her eyes unmistakable. But then she shakes her head. “Maybe later.”

Later never comes.

You try not to let it sting. Alexia loves you—of that, you’re certain. She shows it in a thousand small ways: the way she tucks a blanket around you when you fall asleep on the couch, the way she remembers exactly how you like your coffee, the way her hand always finds yours when you’re walking together.

But love isn’t always enough.

And as the months pass, the gap between your growth and her stagnation begins to feel insurmountable.

Alexia isn’t growing. Not in the same way.

You see it in the subtle way her eyes become distant when the conversations turn personal, in the way she retreats into herself, always a step behind, always holding a piece of her back from the world—and from you. She’s trying, God, is she trying. But no matter how hard she pushes, no matter how many wins she racks up, there’s something inside her that remains untouched, buried under layers of old wounds and unspoken fears.

She’s brilliant on the pitch, a force to be reckoned with, her name chanted by thousands, and yet, at home, she is quiet, contemplative.

Some nights, when the house falls silent and the weight of the day settles into the corners of your apartment, you find her sitting alone on the balcony. The dim light of the city flickers in the distance, and the air is cool, the only sounds being the rustle of leaves and the occasional hum of passing cars. A glass of wine is cradled loosely in her hand, her fingers playing with the stem in absentminded rhythm.

Her eyes are distant, locked onto something far beyond the horizon.

The silence between you stretches, heavy and unyielding. You watch her for a moment, hoping that maybe tonight, she’ll speak, but she doesn’t.

“Talk to me,” you urge, your voice soft but insistent. You kneel beside her, brushing a strand of hair from her face before gently covering her trembling hands with your own.

Alexia looks at you, her expression unreadable for a moment, before she glances down at her hands. She shakes her head slightly, as if the weight of it all is too much to bear.

“It’s nothing,” she says, her voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it, laced with a sorrow you don’t know how to fix.

You’re not fooled. You never have been. There’s always something more, something lurking beneath the surface that she won’t—or can’t—let you see.

“It’s not nothing, Alexia,” you say, your thumb gently tracing the edge of her hand. “Please.”

The way she exhales is sharp, a release of tension that makes the air around you feel colder. She sets the glass down with a soft clink, the sound of it feeling final. Her hands are trembling now, her grip on yours tightening, and in that small, delicate moment, you realize the depth of her pain. For all her strength, for all the resilience she wears like armor, she’s still a woman carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

The weight of expectations. The weight of the spotlight. The weight of every moment she’s been taught to push past.

You can feel it—her fear of being vulnerable, of allowing herself to break in front of someone else, even you.

“I don’t know how to let go,” she whispers, so quietly you almost miss it. The words hang in the air like smoke, heavy and haunting.

Her voice cracks, and you squeeze her hands tighter, your heart aching for the pieces of her you’ve never been allowed to see.

“Of what?” you ask, your own voice shaking, though you try to keep it steady.

Her eyes close, her chest rising and falling as she tries to steady herself, but the vulnerability in her gaze is undeniable. “Of the things I’ve done... the things I’ve lost. Of always having to be strong. Of never letting anyone see that I’m human.”

Her words, raw and broken, hit you like a wave, each one a quiet confession she’s never shared with anyone else. And though you want to say something to make it better, to tell her that she doesn’t have to carry it alone, you know that she has to decide to put it down herself.

But what do you do when the one you love refuses to let go?

You want to tell her that you see her. That you see the cracks beneath the surface, the things she tries so hard to hide, and that you love her all the same. But instead, you simply pull her into your arms, your hand cradling the back of her head as she sinks into your chest. You don’t need words for this moment. She doesn’t need to explain everything to you. You’re here, and that’s enough.

For a while, neither of you speaks. The only sounds are the distant hum of the city and the soft rhythm of her breathing, slow and steady against your heart.

And then, softly, almost as if she’s testing the waters, Alexia whispers, “I don’t know how to be… me anymore.”

The confession hits you like a punch. There’s no anger, no bitterness in her voice, only a deep sense of loss. It’s the sound of a woman who’s spent so much time building the person the world needs her to be, that she’s forgotten who she was before all of this. Forgotten the pieces of herself that didn’t belong to anyone but her.

“I think you’re already her,” you say, your voice soft and steady as you run your fingers through her hair. “You’re just… finding her again.”

She pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. The weight of her pain is almost suffocating, and you can feel it pressing in on you, but you refuse to look away.

“I’m afraid that I won’t,” she admits, her voice breaking. “That maybe I’m too far gone.”

“Don’t say that,” you reply immediately, your voice firm with conviction. “You’re not gone. You’re right here. You’ve always been right here.”

The moonlight catches in her eyes, and for the first time in a long while, you see something shift. A quiet hope, fragile but unmistakable, blooms there.

Alexia is still carrying the weight of her past, her failures, her fears—but in this moment, she allows herself to lean on you. To admit that she doesn’t have to carry it alone.

And that’s enough.

You’re not sure how long you stay like that, holding her in the quiet of the night, the city murmuring softly in the distance. But in this moment, it feels like everything has stopped. No more expectations. No more pressure. Just the two of you, existing in the space between breaths, between the gaps of what’s said and what’s left unsaid.

But time moves differently for Alexia. And even in your arms, you can feel the weight of her unspoken thoughts pressing down on her. There’s a heaviness in her shoulders, in the way she inhales and exhales as though the air is too thick to breathe.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” she admits, breaking the silence after what feels like an eternity. Her voice is barely a whisper, as if saying it out loud might make it too real. She pulls back slightly, enough to meet your gaze, but she doesn’t look at you directly. Her eyes are unfocused, somewhere far away. “I don’t know how to make it better.”

You want to tell her that it doesn’t need to be fixed. That you don’t need to have all the answers. But instead, you simply hold her gaze, trying to convey everything you feel without speaking. You’re here. You’re not going anywhere.

Her lips tremble, and for a brief moment, you think she might pull away, might shut herself off again. But instead, she leans into you, her forehead resting against your chest, her breath shaky and uneven. And you feel the walls she’s built around herself begin to crack, just a little.

“I’ve spent so much time pretending,” she continues, her voice quiet but growing steadier, “pretending that I’m okay. That I don’t need anything. That I don’t need anyone.”

The words sting, not because you didn’t know it—because you’ve seen it, felt it—but because you know how deeply she believes it. She’s worn her strength like armor, but underneath, she’s been bleeding, silently.

“You don’t have to pretend with me,” you murmur, your fingers threading through her hair, gently guiding her face back up to meet yours. “I see you, Alexia. All of you. And I’m not going anywhere.”

She swallows hard, a tear slipping down her cheek before she can stop it. You wipe it away with your thumb, heart aching at the rawness in her eyes.

“Even when I’m not… strong?” she asks, her voice fragile. It’s a question, but it feels more like a plea.

“Especially when you’re not,” you reply, your words firm, unwavering. “Because that’s when you need someone the most.”

For a long time, she doesn’t respond. She simply looks at you, her gaze searching, as if she’s trying to figure out if you’re telling the truth or if it’s just something you say because it’s what she wants to hear.

But in the end, she doesn’t need to ask. She knows. She feels it. The quiet strength in your words, the way you hold her without trying to fix her, without trying to make her feel like she has to be something she’s not.

Alexia exhales softly, her shoulders dropping just a fraction, as if the weight of the world is slightly easier to bear, just for a moment.

And then, she leans in, her lips brushing softly against yours, the kiss tender, almost tentative at first. Like she’s still unsure of what it means, still unsure of herself. But when you kiss her back, slow and sure, it’s as if the world falls away.

The kiss lingers. It’s a promise, quiet and unspoken, but full of understanding. You don’t need her to be perfect. You don’t need her to carry the weight alone.

For once, she doesn’t pull away, doesn’t retreat into herself. She lets herself be vulnerable, lets herself be held. And for the first time in a long time, you feel like you’re not the only one growing, not the only one learning how to let go.

But as the night stretches on, you know the weight of everything isn’t gone. Alexia’s past will always be a part of her, just like your own scars are a part of you. There will still be days when the silence stretches too long, when the distance between you feels too wide. But tonight, in this moment, it doesn’t matter. Tonight, it’s enough to just be with her, to be here, together.

And when the quiet returns, wrapping around you like a soft blanket, you know that despite everything, there’s hope. There’s always hope.

The morning after that quiet, tender moment, Alexia wakes up with your hand still resting over hers. The sun filters through the curtains, casting soft light across the room, and for the first time in what feels like ages, the weight of the world doesn’t seem so heavy.

She’s lying on her back, but there’s a peace in the way she’s breathing, a steadiness in her chest that wasn’t there before. Her fingers twitch under yours, as if she’s aware of the shift between you both, of the promise that wasn’t there before.

When you stir, she turns toward you, her eyes softer, not the guarded distance you’re used to, but something more open.

"Morning," she murmurs, her voice hoarse but with a warmth to it that makes your heart flutter.

"Morning," you reply, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. You watch her for a moment, seeing the faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. It’s the first time in a while that she looks truly present, not lost in her thoughts or in the weight of past mistakes, but here with you, in this moment.

"Do you want to go for a run?" you ask, a playful glint in your eye. You’ve been waking early again, and while it’s become a routine for you, Alexia hasn’t joined you in a while.

She hesitates for a moment, then nods slowly. "Yeah. I think I could use a run."

The two of you lace up your sneakers together, the morning air cool and refreshing as it brushes past you. As you run side by side, there’s a rhythm to it. The sound of your footsteps is in sync, like the two of you are moving together through time, not in competition, but in harmony.

During the run, Alexia doesn’t retreat inward. She talks about everything and nothing at all—her favorite songs, the latest team strategy, something funny her teammate said yesterday. Her voice is light, free, and even though it’s a small moment, it’s a big one for both of you. For the first time in a long time, it feels like Alexia is letting the layers she’s built up fall away, step by step.

When you reach the park, she slows her pace and stops at the edge of a large oak tree, her hands on her hips as she catches her breath. You stand beside her, panting lightly, both of you soaking in the morning light.

“Thanks for this,” she says, looking at you with a soft smile, her eyes a little less guarded. “I needed it. More than I realized.”

You nod, reaching out to gently squeeze her shoulder. “You don’t have to do it alone, you know. You’ve got me.”

Her smile widens, but there’s something different in it now. It’s a little more confident, a little less uncertain.

“I know,” she whispers, her voice catching just slightly. “I’m trying to believe that.”

The next few weeks pass, and while things aren’t always perfect, there’s a shift. The walls Alexia had built around herself begin to crumble in slow, small ways. She begins to talk more, about her fears, her regrets, her dreams for the future. It’s not all at once, and it’s not easy, but it’s progress. She learns to let go of the idea that she has to be invincible, that she has to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders.

And you learn, too. You learn how to be patient, how to hold space for her without trying to fix everything, how to love her without asking her to be someone she’s not.

One evening, after dinner, you both sit on the couch with a glass of wine, the hum of the city softly filling the space around you. Alexia leans back into the cushions, her hand resting comfortably in yours. It’s quiet, but in the silence, there’s something profound—an understanding that wasn’t there before.

“Remember that night at Camp Nou?” she asks suddenly, her voice thoughtful. “When I told you I felt invincible?”

You smile, squeezing her hand. “Yeah. I remember.”

Alexia lets out a small laugh, the sound soft but genuine. “I don’t know if I feel invincible anymore. But I think that’s okay.”

You turn to look at her, your heart swelling with love. “Yeah, I think that’s more than okay.”

She meets your gaze, her smile deepening. There’s something new in her eyes now—something lighter. “I think I’m finally starting to feel like me again.”

And you know, in that moment, that she’s right. It might not be a perfect journey, and there will be bumps along the way, but she’s healing. You’re both healing. And that’s more than enough.

As you sit together, wrapped in the comfort of the night, the song April’s Fool plays softly on the radio, its melancholy notes drifting through the air. You don’t mind it anymore. You’ve come to understand the song’s quiet message—that growth comes in fragments, in pieces. Sometimes it’s messy, sometimes it’s slow, but it’s always worth it.

And so, together, you move forward. Not invincible, but strong in your own way. And with each passing day, you find a little more of yourselves, together.

And that’s enough.

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

[whatt-the]

Okay but imagine Stanford rubbing one out to the thought of you

Like. He'd be so embarrassed. Don't even try to question me on that. His face would be all flushed red and burning hot when he finally lets his urges take him over. I can just see that guy sitting at his paper crammed desk all alone ignoring (or at least attempting to ignore) how lightheaded he's getting from all of the blood not going to his brain, and yet still trying to be productive; I can see how ford would be pressing his thighs toguether subconsciously just to get himself any sort of relief from the pressure-- though, it won't go away.

But you know what else doesn't go away?

His thoughts about you. God they are wretched. The occasional daydreaming about being near you turned to daydreaming about touching, holding, kissing you- which turned to what he has to deal with now. Obsessive, maladaptive and consistant thoughts about maybe: maybe getting to have you the way he craves oh so desperately

So he reasons: 'He deserves a break, he's worked to the point of exhaustion, he should get to have some pleasure'. It's what he wants to hear, more specifically what he wants to hear from you; and fuck if his brain didn't do a damn good job at imitating your voice when those words crossed his mind. Unsurprisingly, the thoughts just get increasingly more targeted at the cureent situation. How would you react to seeing him like this? Would it be disgust? Anger? He'd understand those reactions, he did feel incredibly sinful while doing these acts, so it is only fair that his rational and logic loving brain would find those to be the answers you'd give..

That's what he pretends to believe in at first, of course. He can't help but be delusional about you- delusional about receiving your praises. Oh how his eyes snap shut when the idea that you'd be amused by his current position; that you'd encourage him to keep going. He can feel himself shiver at the view in his mind-- had his limbs always felt this weak?

And this is the scenario he finds himself facing on... most nights. It is pathetic how much he wants you, it's written all over him: in his lovestruck eyes, in his shaky hands, in the sketches of you scrawled all throughout his notes, in the sleepless nights where his body denies him peace- and equally reflected in the nights where his only dreams are of you and him.

Haha anyway have a sketch of this idea featuring college ford, will do a current ford version if encouraged

This man is unhinged and I'm tired of pretending he's not

You, blissfuly unaware that you're the cause of his lack of sleep: "ford? Are you okay? You look really tired today"

Ford, unable to look you in the eye because of sheer embarrassment: "yes, yes. You know how intensive my research gets... haha.."

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

The Soldier Of Death (6)- Natasha

Natasha Romanoff X Super Soldier Reader 18+

Summary: Soldat Smerti. The Soldier of Death. You were the perfect weapon: loyal, obedient, and merciless, or so Hydra thought. What happens when these traits are put to the test? Your captivity in the Avenger's tower and the presence of a redhead makes you realise you didn't have to be a monster. The question was though; Did Hydra make you the monster or were you always one?

This fic will contains dark themes. Please read these warnings before starting any of these chapters: graphic descriptions of murder, violence, gore and torture, heavy angst, mental issues.

Please consider these warnings before reading

Word Count: 2k

General Masterlist | The Soldier Of Death Masterlist

Chapter Warning: Dark thoughts (that's going be in standard in every chapter)

—

Your fingers drummed a little impatiently against your knees, legs crossed as you sat on the floor waiting for her arrival. Your mind scolded you for the strange amount of emotion you were experiencing, the excitement you felt as your eyes were trained on the door, waiting eagerly for the head of red hair, the enticing green eyes to meet your own and that intoxicating smile to tug at her lips. You didn't understand the sudden infatuation with her, the thoughts confusing for you to try and figure out, leading you simply try and ignore them as there was a strange sense of peace when she entered the room, when she'd look at you as if you were a person, not a monster or some beast to tame. Maybe it was the respect she showed you, maybe it was the kindness she showed, you weren't sure, all you knew was that you enjoyed it, the feeling foreign to you.

She's trying to manipulate us. You're weak when it comes to her.

Berated the voice and you clenched your jaw at its incessant need to torment you, to drive you absolutely insane. Not only was it irritating, annoying, frustrating and so much more, it was tiring. It was tiring to keep it under control and away, exhausting to constantly fight your mind and ensuring it wouldn't lash out. You didn't want to hurt anyone, not any more.

Stop trying to be moral.

It groans in frustration with you, a scoff leaving you at the sheer audacity of them to be annoyed with you. You weren't the psychotic, bloodthirsty monster that wanted to kill everyone.

We're always going to be a monster, there's no point changing. They're going to try and change us, don't you see? We can't trust them.

You turn your head away once the reflection starts to move a little in the glass, refusing to acknowledge them and start a new infuriating conversation with them, having had enough of them entirely.

The vexation on your face quickly dissipates into embarrassment and shame when your eyes meet the striking, emerald green. Her body leans against the door frame, watching you with a quizzical but soft look, her arms that were crossed against her chest unwrapping from her body as she casually strolled up closer to the cell, empty handed. You furrowed your brows as she didn't carry the usual tray of food like she always did, tilting your head in curiosity as she sat cross legged opposite you, the only barrier being the glass of the cell.

Natasha. That was her name. She had told you her name a couple days ago after delivering your food, that strange and odd warm sensation bubbling inside you every time you thought of her.

Green continued to watch you as your eyes slowly travelled across her face, never having been this close for this long before. Your eyes flickered across her features, taking your time to note all the small little details down. The notable features such as her soft, plump lips, slightly defined cheekbones and sharp jawline were skimmed over, having looked at them many times, your eyes scanning over the small ridge in her nose, presumably having been broken badly before, the small scar hidden near her eyebrow and the one peeking from under her hair on her forehead, your eyes then settling on hers. Kindness and an indecipherable emotion swam in the pools of green, her watching you intently as you stared back at her, your eyes containing more life than they did when you first arrived in the cell around a week ago.

"I was wondering if we could have a little chat?" Her words unnerved you but her gentle tone that held hints of her Russian accent oddly soothed you, your gaze finally breaking away from the lingering look, flicking over to your reflection in the glass as they made a mocking sound.

I told you. They just want to trick us.

Your jaw clenched at the darkness, Natasha noticing the way your eyes moved away from her before getting annoyed, curious as to whether there was an alter ego version of yourself as she and Fury had discussed further another day.

"What do you want to talk about?" You asked and the action of you answering back made her smile a little. You had spoken to her a few times, most of it being to thank her for the food or answer a brief question she asked such as 'how are you holding up in there?'

"I just have a few questions, if that's ok?" she asks and it's cautious. She watches how your fingers seem to press harder against your leg, how your jaw clenches and posture becomes rigid, tense, the way your eyes lose the sense of life she was trying so hard to bring back.

Conflicted emotions resurface in your mind at her words. You had your loyalty to Hydra, part of you screamed, you were theirs. Their soldier, their weapon, their property. You didn't have the right to betray them like this, no matter what they did to you. They made you into the person you were, whether you hated it or not. If it wasn't for them, you would have died a long time ago.

Another part screamed that this was your chance to be free. This was it. Trust them and tell her all the twisted and dark things they had planned, they had you do. Join their team if they let you, try and do something good for once, like you had always wanted.

The other part screamed for you to remain silent. You didn't have a reason to trust them, to tell them everything. You could tell them everything and they'd do the exact same thing Hydra did. You would be the Avenger's puppet, just a different kind of weapon.

"You don't have to answer but...," she paused as if trying to phrase her words right, saying something she wouldn't normally say. "We want to stop Hydra and we want to help you. I know it may seem difficult to trust us, believe me, I understand what it's like, but if you want to help change, to help stop them, then it would be really useful if there was anything you could give us."

Your eyes meet hers, trying to read her and see if she was being honest, a hint of confusion seeping into your mind at her words of how she'd been in your position before. You hesitated, truly thinking about the options and the weight of her words before nodding subtly, not meeting her eyes and staring down at your fingers that were clean for once, not stained red.

"Are you the Soldat Smerti?" she asks and you can feel her gaze burning into your skin, how she watches you with an intensity.

The words send an unpleasant wave of nausea to wash through you, the words enough to evoke fear inside of you. You were. You were the Soldat but you never wanted to be. You didn't want to be the monster the agents told to scare prisoners, the merciless assassin who didn't care who they killed. You didn't want to cause the bloodshed but you did. It was always going to stain and taint your past, there was no escaping it.

You nod your head to answer her question, Natasha noting the despondency that seemed to take over your body, the way you seemed to drown in your thoughts.

"Did you want to be?" Your head slowly raises to meet her gaze at the question. No one had ever asked you that. No one had ever dared consider your perspective on the whole thing.

"No," your voice is barely above a whisper, cracking a little with the amount of emotion you said it with, the raw tone of your voice making Natasha's heart constrict a little.

"I assume they hurt you then?" she says, the sympathy in her voice making you feel nervous. It was all too good to be true. Why was she being so kind?

Stop telling her.

The voice grits out, the reflection banging on the glass of the cell to further emphasise their anger with you, your eyes closing to block them out. You need something to focus on, and the sound of a steady heart beat being picked up by your ears, your mind focusing on her to calm yourself.

When you open your eyes, she's waiting patiently to see if you would answer, your head nodding again as you don't want to voice your answer, her understanding why.

"Do you want to be free from them?" She asks, unfolding her legs and crossing them the other way as she adjusts her position to get more uncomfortable, unsure of how you manage to sit in the same position for so long without your legs becoming a little numb.

Yes. But we don't need you to help us.

The darkness answers, her unable to hear them though as you impassively stare at her for a moment, her brows furrowing at the sudden switch in demeanour. It seemed as if you just disappeared, completely dissociated from reality before a flicker of danger flashed in your eyes, fading just as quickly as it had appeared.

I told you, I will set us free. Stop answering her and listen to me.

"I can't," your tone hurt and sorrowful, Natasha's eyes watching you as you stare at her, trying to convey your conflicted state of mind.

"You can," she tries to reassure, "We can help you-"

"You can't," your tone is a little harsher this time, taking her aback. "They control me."

"How so?" she asks after a moment, letting the silence brew before speaking up.

You simply raise your finger to your head, pointing to your temple where faint scars could be seen, Natasha only now being able to notice them with how close you were.

"They put a monster inside of me," you say, voice wavering a little but you don't care at this point. You're too tired to be conflicted, to be confused. You just want to let go. "One that will never leave me," she can hear the pain in your voice and wants to move closer to you, to tell you that there's a way they can help you but she doesn't, she remains silent letting you speak.

"I just want it to stop," you confess, the darkness mocking you for your weakness, shouting at you to give up control if you want it to truly stop.

Give. It. To. Me.

The room simmers in a silence, neither of you sure of what to say before Natasha eventually speaks up, her voice laced with sincerity.

"I'm sorry," she says and you can feel a lump forming in your throat. You want to cry, you want to scream, you just want to feel safe for once and right now, you weren't sure what you felt. It was too much, too overwhelming.

She was being too kind. This was what you wanted though. Why did it feel wrong? What was this strange feeling inside you? Why was she sorry? Why can't we keep it together?

"You never deserved that," she whispers, pushing her body off of the floor and looking down at your still sitting form.

What if you did deserve it?

"One last question before I go," she says, her sympathetic expression turning softer, "What's your real name?"

The question shocks you, brows furrowing as what was your name? You had only been called Soldat for as long as you could remember, your mind searching through the blurs of memories, the flashes of your past to find out the answer. At the look of concentration on your face, Natasha herself was surprised at your effort to answer the question, waiting patiently for you to see if you would remember.

You met her eyes with an uncertain look while you still thought hard, her opening her mouth to say something else when it came to you.

"Y/n," you said with a small, minute smile, the action making pride fill the redhead as that was the first time she had seen the corner of your lips tug upwards.

"Think about my offer Y/n," she says, a smile playing on her lips at the life that resurfaced in your eyes. "I'll see you later," after her final words, her body slips out of the doors, leaving you alone once again, the small smile still on your face.

[runariya]

Y(E)ARNED (JJK) • 1

pairing: alien!Jungkook x human seamstress!female reader genre: alien!AU, S2L, slow burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: a lot of fluff, a little bit of lying, good natured 'manipulation', size difference, JK has tentacles, self-doubt, minor wound that needs to be stitched, mentions of bonding, doubt, again lying, kissing, smut (only superficial in this part), lmk if I forgot something pls word count: ~5.8k

a/n: part of the "Dice With Destiny" project by @thebtswritersclub and @creativepromptsforwriting | I just couldn't help but dice again 🫣 sry

a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

masterlist • 2

You think you might settle here, let your restless stitching hands finally find their rhythm on this planet where the air is soft and the light through the windows of your little shop lands like golden thread across the floor. It feels right, this place, Euphonis—a world you once stumbled upon like a loose button in a drawer, an afterthought, but now it glows in your mind like the warm thrum of a needle through fabric. The shop is everything you’d imagined and more, dressed in rustic charm, the old wood floor beneath your feet creaking like a whispered conversation, a relict of the lives it has seen, the weight of Seraphenti footsteps heavier than your own feathery steps. No need for a bell at the door, no chime to herald each customer; the groan of the boards will sing their entry for you, a music of its own.

You’ve been a seamstress for as long as your memory stretches, threading your way through worlds in search of something like home, always with the same soft hope in your chest, the same search for people who need your craft. Zyntis and its inhabitants had seemed promising once—their tails awkward in standardised clothing that never quite fit—but your style had no place there, and so the doors of that shop closed, the dream dissolving before it could begin. And then, by some strange luck—or maybe fate—, you found yourself here, among the Seraphentis, creatures of ethereal beauty, their four tentacles making clothes ill-fitting and frustrating, begging for someone with your hands, your skill to fix what never quite sat right on their otherworldly forms.

And now you're here, here with your thread and your scissors, ready to stitch together lives just a little better, one custom piece at a time, easing the small burdens of misfit garments, making life smoother—seamless, you think with a soft smile.

Late in the afternoon, the shop is quiet, only the rhythmic whirr of your sewing machine filling the small room, your small fingers guiding the fabric beneath the needle with every beat of your heart. You're working on a dress for yourself, something soft and simple to soothe the days behind and look forward to the days ahead. The fabric is delicate, like a promise, and you're so absorbed in its flow that you don't hear the front door until the floor itself betrays the presence of another—footsteps, nearly silent but for the familiar creak beneath their weight.

You stop, hands stilling the machine as you lift your gaze and stand up without much thought, and there—there stands a Seraphenti in the middle of your shop, framed by the light like something out of a dream. Your breathing comes to a sudden stop, not for the first time, at the sheer beauty of these beings, but this one—this one is something else entirely. His face holds you, every line and curve more perfect than any sculpture, his dark eyes deep as midnight, lashes long and thick like the edge of a brush dipped in ink. His lips, rosy and gleaming, part slightly when he sees you—when he realises you are not what he expected, a human, let alone one as small as you, much shorter than any Seraphenti, standing before him in a tailor's shop meant for his species.

You feel his surprise, she him staring unsure at you, but you also feel his warmth, his curiosity. The corners of your eyes crinkle into a smile, the kind that stretches wide and genuine, your teeth flashing in welcome as you call out to him with your soft, cheery voice, "Hello, welcome! What can I do for you?"

It’s as if your words break a spell. He smiles back—radiant, confident in a way that catches you off guard for a second, though there’s a softness in his eyes that makes you feel at ease. He steps forward, his tall build filling the room, and you have to tilt your head back so far that you almost laugh from the sheer height of him.

"Hi," he says with a dialect, his voice rich and warm. "I was hoping to have my shirt customised… if that's possible?"

"Of course!" You can't help the excitement in your voice—he’s your first customer here on Euphonis, and that alone makes you practically beam. You gesture towards the small podium you’ve had specially made for your size, a donut-shaped stand meant to let you reach your taller clients with ease. „If you’d come with me, I just need to take your measurements."

He follows you, but pauses when his right foot lands on the podium, eyeing the contraption with a look of mild confusion before you giggle and explain, "Oh, the donut’s for me, not you. Just step into the middle."

Realisation dawns across his handsome face, and a high-pitched laugh escapes him, shaking his broad shoulders. He looks down at you, and suddenly you both burst into uncontrollable laughter, cracking up like it’s the funniest thing in the world. You hold your stomach as your side begins to ache, tears prickling at your eyes as you try to compose yourself.

"I'm sorry," he manages between laughs, wiping away tears as well. "It's just… brilliant."

"No, no need to apologise!" You smile, cheeks aching from the shared moment. "It's fine, really."

You both manage to calm down long enough for him to step into the circle, and you climb onto the podium behind him. Despite the elevation, he towers over you still, and the two of you exchange a look in the mirror—your heads tilted in different directions as if caught in some ridiculous dance move. The sight is too much; you both burst into laughter again, leaning on each other to stay upright, wheezing without restraint.

When all the laughter finally runs out of your systems, he straightens, offering you a playful smirk. „You know, I’ve always been one of the taller ones."

"Really?" You quip, pretending to be shocked. "I never would have guessed."

His eyes light up, the sparkle of amusement never leaving as he says, "I'm Jungkook, by the way."

"I'm ___," you reply, meeting his gaze in the mirror once more. "Nice to meet you, Jungkook. Now, let’s get those measurements, shall we?"

You begin your work, tape in hand, as you move around him, tracing the lines of his strong frame, marvelling at the way his body seems to have been carved by some masterful sculptor. Each muscle is defined, even beneath the fabric of his shirt, and you focus hard to keep your hands steady, to keep from letting your admiration spill over into something too obvious. Every so often, you catch him watching you in the mirror, a soft smile playing at his lips, his dark eyes warm and knowing as if reading your mind, though he says nothing—just lets you work.

When you reach his back, the challenge becomes clear—his tentacles rise at your approach, like a loom adjusting its threads to some unseen hand. They stand tall and tense, alert and protective, sensing your presence but unsure whether to trust. You reach out slowly, letting the back of your hand hover near them, allowing them to ‚sniff‘ you, in a way. Slowly, reluctantly, they relax, draping back down, though they remain distant, uninterested in interacting with you. You can’t help but feel a small pang of disappointment—Seraphenti tentacles are usually more curious, more playful—but Jungkook’s seem reserved, almost dismissive.

Still, you carry on, finishing the measurements with care, even as a quiet sadness lingers in your thoughts. "We’re done," you say, the words soft as you both step off and out of the podium, heading towards a dresser that you use as a counter, and jot down the remaining notes.

Jungkook hands you his shirt from a small backpack you hadn’t noticed before. “When can I pick it up?”

“Three days?” you suggest, hoping to give it the time and attention it deserves.

“That works for me,” he says with a nod, and you scribble the pickup date on a small slip of paper, passing it to him along with a smile.

“Thank you, Jungkook,” you say, handing him the receipt. “See you in three days.”

“Thank you, too, ___,” he says, his voice softer now, a touch of warmth lacing his words as he leaves your shop.

And just like that, the door closes behind him, leaving you alone again in the soft light of the afternoon, your heart fluttering silently in your chest.

Three days after your first encounter, Jungkook returns to your shop. The wooden floors creak softly beneath his weight as he steps inside, and despite knowing he’s coming, the sight of him still sends a ripple through you, as if the world itself bends gently towards him. He’s all smiles and easy charm, his presence large enough to fill the room but never overwhelming. You hand him his shirt with a small sense of pride fluttering in your chest, neatly wrapped in tissue paper and a cute little sticker holding its edges. You’ve sewn every stitch with care, crafted every seam with precision, and when he leaves with a grateful smile and a wave, you feel light as air, like you’ve woven a thread of connection to a customer that might just hold.

But the next week, he’s back. You hear the familiar creak of the floorboards and turn to see him holding the same shirt, this time with an apologetic frown lining his beautiful face. There’s a tear where you made your customisation, a delicate seam pulled apart. You feel a knot of dread form in your stomach, tightening until it’s nothing but uncomfortable. Your hands tremble slightly as you take the shirt from him, running your fingers along the damaged thread. You apologise profusely, cheeks burning with embarrassment, and promise to fix it at no charge. He reassures you—says it’s not a big deal, that things like this happen—but you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve failed him.

You spend the next few hours painstakingly re-stitching the seam, checking it over and over to ensure it holds. It’s perfect when you hand it back, and Jungkook thanks you warmly, that familiar smile returning to his face as he leaves. Still, something gnaws at you, a quiet voice at the back of your mind whispering doubts into your ear.

Then he returns again.

And again.

Each time with the same shirt, each time with a small tear, a rip where you’ve sewn. Your heart sinks deeper with every visit, each one like a tiny unravelling of the confidence you’d worked so hard to build. You start to dread the sound of the floor creaking beneath his feet, the sight of that perfect face marked with apology. Your hands shake when you work now, the thread slipping from your grasp more often than it used to, and the needle seems to prick your skin more than it should, small beads of red appearing where your focus falters.

By the time he comes back for the seventh time in three months, the weight of it all becomes too much. The sight of him walking through the door feels like a final thread snapping, the tension that’s been building in your chest pulling so tight that it finally breaks in two. You’ve tried your best, given it everything, and still, you’re failing miserably—still, your work isn’t enough. You can feel the tears already welling in your eyes before you even greet him.

The door shuts behind him with that same familiar groan of wood against wood, and you’re already pulling the apron from your waist, the knot in your stomach so tight it hurts.

“Jungkook,” you say, your voice trembling despite your efforts to keep it steady. “I can’t… I can’t do this anymore.”

He pauses, his brow furrowing in concern as he takes a step closer, holding the shirt loose in his hand by his side. “What? ___, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head, the words coming out before you can stop them, tumbling over one another like loose yarn spilling from a spool. “I don’t know why it keeps happening. Every time I fix it, it just—breaks again. I don’t understand. I’ve never had this problem before. Maybe my work isn’t… maybe I’m not…” You trail off, tears slipping down your cheeks now, your hands shaking as you press them to your face, trying to hide the wave of emotion washing over you. “Maybe I’m just not good enough.”

Jungkook’s face falls, and suddenly he’s in front of you, his free hand hovering just above yours as if unsure whether he should touch you or not. “___, no, please don’t say that. It’s not—”

“I can’t keep doing this,” you continue as your hands fall limply to your sides, your voice breaking as you choke out the words. “Every time you come back, it feels like I’ve failed. I don’t know why the thread keeps breaking, why I can’t make it work. It’s like every time I stitch it together, something inside me frays even more, and I just… I can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen in panic, and he quickly closes the distance between you, reaching out to gently take your miniature hand in his big one. His touch is warm, his fingers curling around yours with a softness that paralyses you momentarily. “No, no, it’s not you. ___, it’s not your work. Your stitching is perfect. It’s me—” He stops, inhaling deeply, his eyes darting around the shop for a moment as if he’s gathering the courage to say something. Then he lets out a burdened breath, looking back at you with a pained expression. “I did it. I—I damaged the shirt on purpose.”

You blink up at him, confusion furrowing your brow. “What?”

“I damaged it on purpose,” he repeats, his voice low and apologetic, like a child confessing a misdeed. “I—I just… I wanted to keep seeing you.”

You think you might faint, your mind struggling to process his words. “You… you tore the shirt… on purpose?”

Jungkook nods, his face and ears burning with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean for it to get this far. I just—after the first time, when I saw how careful you were, how much you cared, I… I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And I didn’t know how else to see you again, so I—” He gestures helplessly to the shirt in his hand, offering it to you like if it were the culprit, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I kept damaging it. A little more each time, just so I’d have an excuse to come back.”

You stare up at him, unblinking, wondering if you imagined his confidence or not. But still, there are equal parts disbelief and something else that settles within you—something that feels strangely like relief, like the loosening of a knot that’s been pulling tight for months. The silence between you stretches, Jungkook’s nerves flaring, as your mind is still trying to catch up with everything he’s just said.

“Why?” you finally manage to ask, your voice small, barely more than a whisper.

Jungkook meets your eyes, his expression softening as he takes a deep breath. “Because… I like you,” he admits, the words tumbling out like they’ve been waiting too long to be spoken. “I liked you from the moment I walked in here the first time. I didn’t know how to ask you out. I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same, or that you’d think I was ridiculous, so I—well, I made up reasons to keep coming back. To keep seeing you. But it’s not because you’re not good at your job—you’re amazing at it,___. It’s because I didn’t want to stop seeing you.”

His confession washes over you like a warm shower after a long exhausting day, the self-doubt that had been festering inside you slowly dissolving under the gentle flutter of his words. You take a breath, wiping at your tear-streaked cheeks as you search his face, looking for any sign that this might be some kind of joke or misunderstanding—but all you see is sincerity, and a nervous kind of hope.

“I…” You falter, still trying to wrap your mind around everything, but there’s a warmth blooming in your chest now, a quiet happiness that wasn’t there since Jungkook came back with the damaged shirt. You look down at your hands, still held gently in his, and let out a small, breathless laugh. “You tore your shirt… just to see me?”

Jungkook nods, his lips curving into a sheepish smile. “Yeah. Pretty stupid, right?”

A laugh escapes you, soft but genuine, the tension in your chest finally releasing. “Maybe a little,” you admit, looking up at him with a small, flirty smile of your own. “But… kind of sweet, too.”

His eyes brighten at that, relief flooding his expression as he squeezes your hands gently. “I’m sorry, though. I should’ve just… told you. I didn’t mean to make you doubt yourself.”

You shake your head, wiping away the last of your tears. “It’s okay. I mean, it wasn’t great thinking I was losing my touch, but… I guess I can’t be too upset. Not now that I know why.”

The two of you just stand there for a moment, the quiet between you no longer heavy with doubt. It’s strange, how quickly everything has shifted—how the world has gone from tipping over to balancing out again in a way you hadn’t expected. You take a breath, feeling a soft warmth settle in your chest as you meet Jungkook’s eyes once more.

“So… what now?” you take a breath to shush the shyness away, feeling a soft warmth settle in your chest as you meet Jungkook’s eyes once more.

Jungkook’s smile widens, his beautiful eyes crinkling at the corners as he gently tugs you a little closer. “Well, for starters, I’ll stop tearing my clothes on purpose,” he laughs quietly. “And maybe… we could try seeing each other outside of the shop? If you’re interested, that is.”

Your small heart skips a beat at his offer, and for the first time in months, the doubt inside you is nowhere to be found. You nod, a beaming smile on your face as you look up at him. “Yeah,” you say softly, “I think I’d like that.”

And just like that, you love story with Jungkook begins.

It's been months since you and Jungkook started seeing each other. Since that day he walked into your shop with his torn shirt, a thread of connection was spun between you, and what started as something delicate, tentative—like a stitch holding two fragile fabrics together—soon grew into something much stronger, blossoming from strangers to friends, to finally, without much fanfare, to a couple. You’ve gone from quiet cups of coffee shared in the mornings, the smell of roasted beans lacing the air between you, to nights spent curled up together on his sofa, the noise of the world fading away, leaving just the warmth and quiet intimacy of kisses. You’ve woven yourselves securely into each other’s lives, slowly, stitch by stitch, until the fabric of your days has become so interwoven that it’s hard to remember what life was like before the other.

There’s an ease to your relationship now, a rhythm you’ve both fallen into—domestic moments that feel as familiar and comforting as the soft creak of old wood beneath your feet in the shop. You cook together, hands brushing as you pass ingredients back and forth, Jungkook’s arms sneaking around your waist to tease you, pulling you closer just for the joy of feeling your body near his. You help each other with mundane tasks—he rearranges your bolts of fabric while you pin a garment to a mannequin, and in turn, you fold his laundry as he hums some quiet melody under his breath.

But not everything in this tapestry is perfect. There are pulls, tangles in the threads that remind you of the things you can’t control—the Seraphenti tentacles that constantly test for bonds, seeking to see if they align with others, exploring compatibility in ways that no words could, to merge together and never be able to part again. You’ve learned this since the beginning, understanding that his tentacles are almost their own beings, extensions of him yet with wills of their own. It’s natural for them, simply biology, to seek connections, to sniff and sense, and while you try to remind yourself that this is simply part of who he is, it doesn’t stop the sharp tug of fear when you see those tentacles reach for someone else, when they can’t seem to even recognise your presence. It made you feel a little nervous but had never truly been an issue in your relationship—until now.

You are standing in line at a fast food stall, a simple joy, the scent of fried food and warm spices lingering in the air, when everything you silently feared catches up with you, when the sky above is bruised with twilight, such as your soul soon will be. 

It starts as one of those easy moments that feels like the perfect stitch at the end of a long day—a moment of peace, of completion. But then, a female Seraphenti joins the line next to your stall, her silvery skin catching the fading light like a needle glinting in the sun.

You feel the change in Jungkook before you even see it. His body tenses, his movements growing hesitant. You look up and see his tentacles rising slowly, drawn towards hers as though pulled by an invisible thread. Your heart skips a beat, then begins to unravel, that quiet sense of peace fraying as you watch his tentacles move closer towards hers with instinctive curiosity. They hover between them like two stray threads, exploring, seeking a bond, and your chest tightens, painfully so. You try to swallow the bitter knot of jealousy that forms in your throat, but it just can’t go down, too raw, too sharp.

Jungkook’s face pales beside you, and you can see the silent dread and panic in his eyes. He glances at you briefly, as if to reassure you, but it does nothing when his eyes tell. You stand there, frozen, the world around you tilting again, as your eyes focus solely on the quiet, delicate dance of their tentacles. They move closer and closer, testing, curious. And the worst part is that this isn’t some conscious decision of his—this is simply biology, a force stronger than either of you. But knowing that doesn’t stop your heart from sinking like a stone in a bottomless well.

Time seems to stretch and elongate like a spool of thread unwinding too quickly, and the tension becomes unbearable for you. The female Seraphenti seems uninterested in anything but the exploration of the menu ahead, her tentacles floating lazily in the air, waiting for the connection to either solidify or break apart. Jungkook watches with a grieving expression, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, but then, with a sudden, vicious snap, his tentacles attack hers, which recoil with equal ferocity, as Jungkook lets a breath of pure relief escape his body.

There’s a soft gasp from the crowd around you, eyes drawn But it’s short-lived, as the gasps of the crowd around you is heard, Jungkook winces, and you notice immediately that one of his tentacles is curling back toward him, wounded. You’re at his side before you even think, your hands brushing against his arm as you whisper, “Let’s go home.”

He nods, his face still pale, and together you leave the stall behind, walking in absolute silence. His injured tentacle hangs limply, the fabric of your connection feeling threadbare, frayed by what just happened. You can feel it—both the physical pain in him and the emotional sting in yourself, the wound of knowing that his tentacles sought something with another, even if it didn’t take root.

Back at his flat, the quiet is almost suffocating you as Jungkook glances at you with eyes filled with relief, shame, and something you can’t quite place. He sinks onto the sofa, his movements defeated, and you immediately fetch the small first aid kit from his bathroom. And still, Jungkook only watches you in silence as you kneel beside him, your hands gentle as you begin to clean the small cut on his tentacle. There’s a strange sort of comfort in this—tending to him, mending the damage like patching a torn garment. But underneath it all, there’s a sadness that you can’t shake, something threatening to break everything fully.

You move carefully, your fingers working with the same precision you use when sewing—steady, practised, almost automatic. His tentacles, usually so independent, seem to allow your touch this time, curling slightly but not retreating. You feel their warmth under your fingers, the living pulse of them, and for the first time, they seem to recognise your presence not as something to ignore or push away, but as something to co-exist, if only just.

As you prepare the needle to stitch the small tear, you try to lighten the mood, though the weight of earlier still hangs between you both. You glance up at him with a faint smile and joke, “I’m sorry I’m missing the nurse outfit. Would’ve made this whole thing more convincing, don’t you think?”

Jungkook looks down at you, his confusion evident. “A nurse outfit?”

You laugh softly, though the sound is fragile like your nerves, thin like thread worn from overuse. “Yeah, you know. Nurses—like the assistants to doctors. They take care of people when they’re hurt. Stitch them up, give them medicine, that sort of thing.”

He frowns slightly, thinking it over. “Like a healer’s apprentice?”

You nod, threading the needle carefully, the familiar rhythm of sewing calming your nerves slightly. “Sort of. They don’t do the magic or the rituals, but they do everything else. They’re the ones who actually keep people alive most of the time.”

Jungkook’s lips twitch into a small smile, though there’s still a lingering sadness in his eyes. “You’d make a good nurse,” he says quietly. “Or a healer’s apprentice.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “I’ll stick to tailoring for now. But thanks.”

The silence that follows again is filled with unsaid words and emotions. You finish stitching the wound, tying off the thread with careful fingers, but as you do, the lingering ache in your chest only grows sharper, the tentacles again retreating from you in an instant. You place the needle aside and sit back on your heels, exhaling slowly as you try to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook whispers suddenly, his voice full of sorrow. “I hate that this happened. I hate that you had to see it.”

You glance up at him, and the raw sincerity in his eyes makes your heart twist painfully. “It’s not your fault,” you whisper back, afraid that if you speak any louder, it might shatter you whole. “I know it’s just… how things are. But that doesn’t make it any easier.” You lower your gaze, feeling the familiar sting of tears welling up behind your eyes. “It’s hard not to feel like… one day, your tentacles are going to decide I’m not good enough. That there’s someone else out there who fits you better.”

Jungkook’s expression saddens even more, and he reaches out, his hand finding yours, even if it’s the only thing searching for you. His fingers are warm and big, as he squeezes your hand tenderly. “It doesn’t work like that,” he says softly, though you know its a lie. “They don’t decide everything. They’re curious, yes. But they’re not the ones who get to choose who I love.”

You know he’s lying, you know he’s only trying to mend what’s broken. “But what if they do? What if one day, they find someone else and—”

“I’ll fight them,” Jungkook interrupts, his voice resolute. He looks at you with such conviction, such certainty, that for a moment, you almost believe him entirely. “If they ever try to pull me away from you, I’ll fight them. Because I don’t want anyone else. I want you.”

His words hang between you, like the final knot that holds the end of a stitch secure, binding it in place so it won’t come undone. And though there’s still doubt lingering in your heart, there’s also a quiet hope you want to follow blindly.

You manage a small smile, though your voice trembles slightly when you speak. “I hope that’s true,” you whisper, now lying to yourself as well. “Because I want you too. More than anything.”

Jungkook leans closer, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your skin like the brush of soft fabric. “It is true,” he murmurs, his voice low. “I promise.”

Jungkook then kisses you slowly, tenderly, like he has so many times before, but now there’s a sadness, a longing beneath it. You can feel it in the way his lips move against yours, the way his breath is restricted, the way his touch lingers longer than usual. It’s in the soft pull of his mouth, the way his fingers hold you like he’s afraid you might slip away. His fear, his desperation—they seep into the kiss, bitter, and you taste it with every breath, every trembling press of lips.

He pulls you onto his lap, his arms wrapping around you instinctively, holding you close, as if your bodies can protect each other from the truth untold. Your hands find their way to the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair—soft, silken strands flowing between your fingers. His hands glide up from your thighs, tracing your spine, pressing you closer as they move higher, over your back, until they reach your neck, cradling it with a touch that is both tender and desperate. He holds you like you’re the last solid thing he can grasp in a world that’s threatening to crumble.

The kiss deepens, turning heated as the desperation between you grows. Your fear mirrors his, gnawing worry that clings to your being, tightening in your throat. You can’t stop thinking about the possibility of losing him—of waking up one morning, still wrapped in his arms, only to have him slip away from you without warning some hours later, taken by a bond you have no control over. The thought haunts you, lingers in your mind as your kiss becomes more frantic, more painful. It’s like you’re both trying to escape the fear, but the harder you cling to each other, the closer it seems to get.

Jungkook lifts your small form effortlessly, carrying you to his bedroom without breaking the kiss, his steps hurried, like he’s trying to outrun something. When you finally reach the bed, your hands are on him, frantically pulling at his clothes with shaking hands as he pulls at yours, both of you desperate to strip away the layers separating your skin. You kiss him harder, desperate to forget, to lose yourself in him, to forget the race against the clock that neither of you wants to see.

You can barely savour this moment, the moment that should have meant everything, that moment when you finally allowed your bodies to connect in the only way possible. You don’t even stop to take in the sight of him—the way his body is revealed to you, inch by inch, until he stands before you completely bare. You don’t take the time to marvel at his beauty, the strength of him, the way he seems to tower over you with his sheer size. All you can think about is the sadness, the dark cloud that lingers over this moment, threatening to suffocate any joy you might have felt. You barely even register the difference between your bodies when he finally presses into you—his size, the way your body stretches around him, the sharp sting of pain that follows. It’s all distant, muffled, like you’re watching it happen to someone else, detached and numb.

But Jungkook’s eyes, they’re wide, filled with sorrow and longing, and his voice breaks as he whispers, over and over, a chant of reassurance that he’s trying so hard to believe. “I love you. I love you. I’m never letting you go.” He repeats it like a mantra, as if saying it enough times will make it true, will make the fear disappear.

But the words only echo between the slap of flesh, but you can’t find the strength to respond. You want to—want to tell him you love him too, that you’ll never leave, that you’ll fight for this with everything you have—but the cloud has taken hold, and the words stick in your throat, unable to escape. Instead, you stay silent, letting his words fill the space between you, hoping they’re enough for both of you, even as doubt and sadness weigh heavy on your chest.

And when you both reach that moment of release, it feels hollow—beautiful on the surface, but fragile beneath. The euphoria that should have filled you instead leaves you feeling emptier than before, breaking your heart even more. You lay there with him, tangled in the sheets, your bodies pressed together, but it’s as though a chasm has opened up between you. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. This isn’t how you imagined your first time with him, how you thought your love would feel.

Instead, all you’re left with is the silence that follows and more tears in your eyes than you can hold back. You wonder if this is your new reality—living each day with the constant worry that he might be taken from you. You wonder if the love between you might not be enough to keep you together in the end. You wonder if you’ll ever be able to look at him again without that pang of uncertainty and sadness.

You wonder…

masterlist • 2

a/n 3: hope you've enjoyed it👀 lmk what you think in any way you like!

a/n 4: please send me a message, ask or comment if you would like to be tagged for part 2 and eventual bonuses 💕 also - character asks and drabble requests are open

Like what you read? Check out my other work here!

All Rights Reserved © @/runariya 2024