#or if you simply like things a different way you are always and forever free to do so and share your opinions on how you like it

[lemurballing]

The Tangleification of Whisper

aka a catchy title for my musings on how Whisper's characterization has changed overall across IDW - and to bring up some thoughts on what it might imply that Whisper is given this clear resemblance to Tangle herself.

If you haven't read the 2024 winter annual yet, this post does contain panels lifted from that -- read at your own risk.

First of all, let's look at where Whisper started - what she was like before the 'Tangleification' - so you can see how big a change it is from one section to the other. I do understand that 'characterization marches on' and being free to re-evaluate and adjust a character's interpretation over time can fine-tune a story into becoming something greater - but I will also try to explain why this specific character evolution is significant to my eyes, and implications it carries.

We first meet Whisper in Issue #8, where she displays pretty clear signs of avoiding people not just to keep to herself, but because of social anxiety. She trails Sonic and supports him from afar, but as soon as they notice her she gives up her immediate goal and leaps away to lose their attention:

And from Silver's comments, she was evidently this evasive for the entirety of the Forces war:

With the benefit of hindsight and retroactive application of motive, one might assume Whisper was keeping out of sight so Mimic would continue to believe she was dead and not track after her, but seeing how she acts in these and the next issues (at least, her appearances before Tangle & Whisper), that's definitely not the initial aims with her character.

Whisper shows no reservations besides her own displayed social anxiety to the idea of joining with someone else as a team, or affiliating herself with them. If Mimic was a thing in Whisper's story at this time, she wouldn't be smiling at the idea, she'd still have the same reservations she brings up later with Tangle.

Additionally, the way other characters behave around and address Whisper reinforce the idea that this aversion to company is an issue of anxiety or discomfort: that Whisper is definitively introverted and likes to operate alone (besides the wisps), instead of being forced to.

One of the bigger reasons I want to resurface this initial characterization of Whisper is because it is so interesting to have a member of the cast who IS genuinely introverted and doesn't want to deal with a large number of people. Even the more antisocial/lone wolf of Sonic's friends are that way because they simply don't connect or see a reason to become close to other people, not because it bothers them in particular.

Whisper, at this point, is a very unique example of someone shy still involving themselves in the fight, instead of the more common bombastic or loud personalities. Espio is probably the only other 'quiet' character, and that's still different because he isn't really 'shy'.

Then we see a little change in Tangle & Whisper, upon first being introduced to the idea that Whisper's current quiet personality is due to personal trauma and not simply a facet of the person she is, in seeing her pre-trauma personality be more enthusiastic. (BIG EDIT: I could elaborate more in a separate addition, but pre-T&W, Whisper is seen smiling far often than in T&W proper - so this is relegating the smiling to pre-trauma, instead of adding smiling at all - but the enthusiasm is new!)

This is every line of dialogue we see from pre-trauma Whisper in Tangle & Whisper. We can see only two panels where she's smiling; in one, with her eyes wide open, and in the other, with her eyes closed as is more typical of Whisper as she was introduced. The other three panels only contain dialogue, which does allow some inferences on Whisper's demeanor and personality.

This 2-panel sequence has the most information to speculate off - Whisper makes a statement in two parts. The particular decision to make "Tank inbound." a separate separate sentence implies it is spoken tersely, or while Whisper is in 'mission-focus', and less likely with a playful tone. This then contrasts her "Never mind!" and giggle in the next panel, building an impression that she's typically got a serious focus (at least while on a mission), but lets humor leak through when things go their way.

The other thing to note is that these panels are a very limited sample set, and the visual appearances are biased - when expressing gratitude to someone, or taking a group picture, it's only natural to put a smile on, even if you don't typically smile most of the time. We also only see Whisper around individuals she's already familiar with, so there's not necessarily any proof that at this point Whisper doesn't have any social anxiety, or that she would necessarily conflict with her earlier appearances around Sonic and Silver and everyone else.

So while Tangle & Whisper introduced the idea of Whisper being louder before losing her teammates, it's the 2024 annual that REALLY dials it up:

Whisper not whispering in the slightest, and in fact being a motormouth!

Whisper with wide eyes and/or a smile in virtually every panel she appears in, and thriving while in the thick of the group or having one of the others' attention on her, and...

...Whisper pulling this specific expression, which quite resembles the expression Tangle made while also seeing someone else display a really cool power they have.

It's almost strange to me, because we do have a good reason for Whisper to become more outgoing and outspoken... but that's in the present time period due to Tangle's influence, not necessarily her pre-trauma self!

The choice to rebuild Whisper as someone as inherently extroverted and attention-loving as Tangle also builds a comparison between the two: the idea that they started out so similarly, you can't help but wonder if the implication given is that Tangle going through Whisper's situation would result in the same personality developments, because Whisper's quiet personality is retroactively attributed to the trauma she gained, instead of being her natural personality.

Personally, I'm very fond of the characterization Whisper has closer to her introduction, and I would find it boring to effectively reduce her and Tangle to the same base personality, give or take tail powers and some trauma, instead of leaving them as distinct people at core: that even if they had gone through the same experiences, they'd still come out a little different, but they strive to understand and work with each other anyways.

...I've also got a meta-gripe in that you can write Whisper positively with Tangle's traits, but Tangle's in the thick of getting judged for having them...

[eamour]

the way you manifest.

everybody has a different way of manifesting. some like to script, some like to affirm, and some like to just visualise their desires. however, some methods seem to work for some but don’t really work on others. why is that so?

the law of assumption.

now, the reason behind why everybody seems to have their own way of manifesting or why certain manifestation methods and techniques you cannot seem to be successful with can still ensure other people success is because of the LAW. once again, it's called the law of assumption — and it operates with BELIEF. what you assume or believe to be true, has to be true.

everything is an assumption.

in practice, this means that these methods and techniques seem to "function" well for some because they ASSUME that they will function well for them. on the contrary, the methods and techniques that you believe won’t help you manifest, eventually won’t help you. another example is that you might believe affirming might not work for you but works really good for others. the result: everyone can manifest with the use of affirmations except you.

no preassigned meaning.

it is important to not that with the law, nothing actually is the way it is and nothing is promised to remain the way it is… not unless you say otherwise. in this reality, things aren’t factual, forever or fixed. they don’t have any meaning attached to them. YOU give them meaning first.

the creator's rules.

if you know how the law works, you know that you can use it to your advantage. you can decide how you want to manifest by coming up with your own rules and correctly applying them. you can even influence the way a method or a technique will function for you. and not just methods and techniques! here are some examples for rules you could have:

rule one · i always manifest within 2 days.

rule two · manifesting is easy for me.

rule three · i can manifest even if i feel sad.

loopholes in manifesting.

now, what are loopholes in manifesting? a loophole is an ambiguity or inadequacy in the law or a set of rules, according to its official definition. in more simple words, they are subjective rules you have set up to simplify manifesting. you could almost say they are "cheat codes", coding the way you manifest.

you know, there are rules to manifesting. actually, there is only one: your assumptions create. for an assumption to manifest, you need to believe in it. now, i'm not saying you can’t have doubts, but there has to be at least a little belief in there, somewhere. now, see how i said "somewhere"? what i mean is that somewhere within the process of manifesting, there needs to be BELIEF.

1 · belief in assumption. you can believe in having your desire and manifest it.

2 · belief in method. you can believe that doing a method xyz times makes you manifest your desire.

3 · belief in self. you can believe that you always manifest your desires.

this is why many people who robotically affirm can manifest. they have the assumption that they either don’t need to believe their assumptions to manifest or that simply doing the method guarantees them their desire. other loopholes could be that only desirable thoughts of you manifest or that affirming once is enough for you.

the best way to manifest.

knowing all of this, it is clear to say one thing: there is no best or perfect way to manifest. technically, they are all the same. since manifesting is personal, it is your decision to decide which methods work for you or not, which techniques get you better or quicker results. and remember, all methods and techniques are all equally accessible to you. you don’t have to do anything beforehand. you don’t have to prove yourself to be worthy or deserving for a method to work for you. again, YOU are the creator.

manifesting is personal.

in conclusion, we all manifest similarly but still differently — and that’s alright! each one of us is an individual and the way we apply the law is personal. that being said, feel free to come up with your own rules! make the law work for you the way YOU would like it to and remain faithful to your rules. that way you can make manifesting a lot more easier.

with love, ella.

[felassan]

Letters from Lovers

Transcriptions of the letters from the various gear store items. under cut for length.

Isabela:

“My dear Hawke, Do you know anyone with a flock of parrots? I'm trying to cheat on a bet with Varric and the stakes are exceedingly high. If you help me, I shall take you to that breathtaking beach you so crave. Free of ancient horrors, too. I think. I'd hate to take respite from all my adventures, but there are other ways to make the heart flutter. In fact I'm already imagining a few. Aren't you? Sailing there can be fatal, but Admiral Isabela will keep you safe. Are you interested? I would love to see you again. Yours, Isabela”

Morrigan:

“My love, Now before that grin reaches your ears, perish the thought that this letter was my idea. 'Tis Kieran who would not give me peace until I wrote to ask how you are faring. Regale us, if you please, with another of your tales that I might read to him in bed. He is particularly fond of those wherein you spur mischief whilst you save the day. Thank you for your most delightful gifts. I shall make certain to wear them the next time you come home. Dream of me until then, my Hero of Ferelden, and have a care. Morrigan”

Dorian:

“My dearest Amatus, Home is ever as it was: a glittering whirl of dancing, politics, and murder. I'm used to people staring daggers at me - I quite relish it, actually - but the glares seem to possess a new intensity since my return to Tevinter. Do they disapprove of House Pavus freeing its slaves while I work in the Magisterium to end slavery across Tevinter? Perhaps they simply covet my cheekbones, and who could blame them? Real reform will take time, but we're making inroads. I miss you terribly, Amatus, perhaps almost as much as you miss me. I treasure you and your belief in my work here. Yours always, Dorian P.S. I wouldn't take it amiss if you might send me another barrel of that dreadful Fereldan beer?”

Alistair:

“My love, How are you? Is it true that you recently killed darkspawn with only a mean glare and a pointy stick? Ferelden is ablaze with this rumor! You do give people so much hope. Tales of your heroism never fail to astonish me and almost ease the pain of going to sleep without you by my side. Almost. I can't wait to be with you again. I'd bring you some roses, you could give me a tour of the keep, we'd drink with the new recruits and then cuddle in a tent. Without the new recruits! Tent time is just for the two of us. I want to make that clear. Now excuse me while I practice my death glare and rummage through the dog's stash of sticks. I love you. Yours forever, Alistair.”

The Iron Bull:

“Kadan, You won’t believe what I did today. I got a guy to flip! Twice! So yes, all is well. Except for all the demons. And this whole thing in which I’m far away from the love of my life. Really keeps me up at night. Anyway, you hearing these rumors of a dragon on the loose? Yeah! The boys and I are on its trail. Last I heard, it was flying toward the Frostback Mountains. Can you join us? I hope you��re not uh… all tied up. Don’t worry, I’m fairly certain it’s not a Ben-Hassrath trap. And if it is, you know I’m prepared. Ataash varin kata! I love you, Kadan. See you soon. The Iron Bull.”

Tali:

“By the way, I left something for you up in your cabin. Go have a look.” - Tali’Zorah  --- “Dear Shepard,   As you may remember, I presented this picture frame to you as a gift on the Normandy. It was my way of expressing my admiration for you and our bond as comrades-in-arms. On the back of the metal frame, I've emblazoned a promise that will never fade - 'Shepard, wherever you go, I'm with you.'  I know it's not much, but...this is what I look like under the mask. I'm sorry if it's not what you were expecting. I know Quarian faces can be a bit...different. Every time you look at my picture, I hope you will be reminded of our adventures on the Normandy, from our battles against the Reapers to our intimate conversations in the privacy of our quarters.    I am not one to express my emotions openly, but thank you for being my friend, my confidante, and my inspiration. I look forward to many more adventures together.  Keelah se’lai,   Tali’Zorah”

Another letter from Tali:

"Whatever the galaxy throws at us, I'll be at your side. - Tali" --- "Shepard It's been a while since I last struggled to sleep. You must be dreaming of falling through a fish tank or starring in a hanar vid? I can hear you muttering about jellyfish. It's funny. I've spent my whole life hoping for the future, but these days nothing scares me more. Keelah, why can't we stop time? Even for just a little bit? No war, no Reapers, nobody counting on us. Just you and me, as free as the dust in the solar wind. When this is all over, will you settle down on Rannoch with me? I love you. - Tali"

Bonus:

Shepard's N7 acceptance letter, from Anderson:

“N7 Congratulations on your graduation From Captain David Anderson Shepard, When I graduated from the N7 program I had the honor of meeting Admiral Grissom, the man who inspired me to pursue a career in the service, and I never thought I’d feel prouder in my life. I was mistaken. Don’t get me wrong, it was a big day. An important day. But there’s something about welcoming driven young people like yourself into the ranks that’s also pretty damn satisfying. Your distinguished service record may have gotten you into this program - but it was your courage, integrity, and tenacity that’s enabled you to join an elite few. You represent the best of humanity, and I feel certain you’ll make the galaxy a better place. And I’m not the only one who feels this way. Becoming an N7 means the entire Systems Alliance is telling you one thing - we believe in you. Let me end by saying this. Welcome to the team Shepard. We know you won’t let us down. David Anderson Systems Alliance Interplanetary Combatives Academy N7 N7 Acceptance Letter”

[fishnapple]

What can bring true satisfaction to your heart?

Let's end this year by hearing what your heart yearns for. And also trying out my new AAB (Animal Advisory Board) set for divination ✨️

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

ORANGE

On the surface level, what feels like satisfaction for you is recognition for your hard work. You feel a sense of lack when it comes to your material possessions, that that sense of lack can affect your sense of self greatly. You could feel that the more you have, the more confident and safe you are, you find safety in a familiar physical world. Working, earning money, and then being recognised for your effort can elevate your "worth" in this world, or so you believe. And being worthy is the solid proof of existence and meaning. But you will soon find that in chasing success and recognition, you risk burning out and losing your vitality, your jest for life. Being too focused on a goal, a task can narrow your perspective and make you feel like life is just a race, a competition. You want to show your best, to be known as the most hard working person, the one who contributes the most, the one who can take on any tasks without fear, the one who shines the brightest. Life seems like a stage where you have to perform constantly, even when you're alone, your actions are being observed by an invisible audience.

But your inner self disagrees with that approach, and it will demand a change from you. You can't keep running in "the race" forever because there's simply no race for you to run, just a life for you to be in and to live. A part of you is sleeping, latent inspirations are trapped inside without the means to be expressed. It's quite contradictory, on the outside, you look so busy and active, always doing something, but on the inside, the energy is stagnant and inactive. This feeling will continue to pile up until you can't take it anymore and want to burst out, to take off. The feeling of true freedom, of flying for the first time will open up a floodgate inside you, you will begin to nurture a different perspective, you will want to slow down your run and look around, suddenly you will find so many interesting things around you that you haven't noticed before.

By being free, you will also have a different view on relationships. Your heart yearns for freedom, freedom to be yourself, and freedom to love. You will want to bond deeply with people, to seek comfort in the emotional sense, not in the physical sense anymore. You seek true understanding, of yourself, of the other person and the world you live in. Deep connections can bring the most satisfaction, something that you might have been oblivious to up until now. You won't seek recognition from the general crowd anymore, you will seek the transparency of being seen completely by a loved one.

WHITE

For this group, I see a lot of images about predators attacking prey. This can mean that you are having contradictory thoughts and feelings inside yourself, like an inner critic, always watching and judging your every wish and action. This creates lots of unnecessary fears in you, you're held prisoner by your own mind. You desire many different things, or said in a different way, many different things can bring you satisfaction, but they can be at odds with each other. The solution for you is to go ahead and do them anyway, no matter how much your mind protest or try to "talk" you out of it, which sometimes can be in a really aggressive way. Your mind can create visions of people ridicule or criticise you for your decisions. What you need to do is triumph over those visions, shoo them away, and just do what you instinctively feel drawn to do and then see for yourself, with you own eyes, the actual outcome, only then will you have solid "proof" to chase away those intrusive thoughts in your mind. For you, getting over your myriad fears will be your biggest achievement and satisfaction. For every victory over your fear, no matter how small, you deserve to get a pat on your back. Be gentle with yourself, but firm enough to give yourself a chance to grow.

About your many desires, one is about receiving and giving love. You might just focus on romance and dating right now, without much serious thought about a long-term commitment and building a family with someone. But in the future, when you allow yourself to grow more and gain new perspectives, the thought of commitment will naturally arise in you. You won't just desire love and affection alone, you also desire a place to call home, a place where someone will be there to welcome you. You will want to nurture someone, and be nurtured back, work for the connection, and see your effort grow into a deep bond. You're working hard right now, but mostly to build your own foundation, later in life, you will want to work hard to build that foundation with another person. Your heart will flourish in the nurturing environment of a steady relationship.

For now, just focus your energy on getting to know yourself, every nook and cranny. Come to your rescue when your mind begins to nag, especially when you want to rest and contemplate hidden things behind the veil of mundane life. Use your resting time to let your mind explore foreign subjects, coax it gently when it tries to resist learning new things. The more you explore, the more your mind will soar, the more your heart will feel tranquil and happy.

PINK

Does the question of whether the person you're attracted to romantically can also be your friend ever cross your mind? Or the question of whether that person can truly connect with you on a mental level? I see the people who chose this group are ardent lovers. The kind that would focus their all on a connection, passionate and gripping. You might be the person who loves falling in love, the feeling of romance and relationships brings you great joy. But the pitfall here is that you tend to idealise the other person and the connection to the point of overlooking some glaring incompatibilities. On a surface level, a person might seem fun and physically ideal to be your partner, but let some time pass and look closer, you will find that you don't really connect on a more deeper level. A telling sign would be that conversations are lacklustre, there's an uncomfortable silence between you, the subjects of the conversation are superficial. In the long run, this can create dissatisfaction in the relationship.

What you might not realise is that a deep bond, especially forged over many conversations, is essential to your feeling of overall happiness about life. Friendship matters, even love should be built based upon friendship. Having many people who you can call friends is actually more satisfying than having many lovers, friends who come from many walks of life, from all around the world. Having a group of close friends who can go on adventures with you, who can nurture you, who can build you up, who can make your mind buzzing, who can be your family, that's what brings true satisfaction to your heart.

Can you see the stag nipping at a tree while the peacock is facing the opposite direction? I think right now, the way you express yourself can be like a form of reaction to the specific person whom you're interacting with, rather than just communicating who you are in general. In conversations, you might try to act more cool, showing the best of yourself in order to build a favourable image, which is what all of us do to some degrees, consciously or not. But this shape-shifting energy can be detrimental to really connect with the other person. Instead of letting the other person provide you with 'nutrition' for your mind and heart, you're busy impressing them. This can happen in all your interactions, whether with strangers, acquaintances, friends, family, lovers. You should take a more relaxed approach, allowing the words to seep into you leisurely, building friendship as if growing a tree, then you will have a flourished heart.

GREEN

The word 'Success' has a lot of meanings to you, and all meanings have weight that defines your life. For you, being successful doesn't have to be about earning lots of money of being famous, though that is a part of the 'Success' that you pursue, it's not all. You want to leave behind your legacies, the proof that you exist, the proof that you have lived hard and well, that your life has meaning.

Throughout your life, you will encounter various stumbling blocks that require you to reinvent yourself, like ascending a stairway, each step bring your higher, closer to your ideals. You're willing to change yourself, to bring about a complete overhaul, allow yourself to play various roles, don many masks, life is a big stage and you're a magician, a jester or a seller, who always has something to dazzle and sell to the audience. This 'performance' is not fake or disingenuous at all, it's what you're born to do, to achieve prestige and finally reach the top of the stairway.

You have a core that's very malleable and agile, constantly moving, though it can help you be flexible and move through situations with ease, it can create an inner confusion. You feel like you have to be at all places, here and there, never settle down, forever swimming, nothing can hold you down and keep you in one place for long. This fuels your desire to find an anchor in the physical world. To know what you've done, what you've achieved, where you need to go. You need external structure and stability so that your internal spirit can swim freely. You can move a lot, but you need to feel a sense of home wherever you're. And that's not easy to achieve. But you have the knack to connect instantly with people, you can make the most distant stranger your friend in no time. The more people surround you, the safer you feel. Community and sense of camaraderie soothe you nomad heart. As long as you have people around you, everywhere can be your home.

And in that hope will you work your magic, working tirelessly to build your foundation. Even though your spirit is a nomad, constantly moving, you have trouble letting go of things and people, gradually, the stuff you pack with you gets more and more heavy, slowing you down. The challenge for you is to learn when to let go, to travel light. What your heart truly wants is the feeling of ascending the ladder, of knowing that you've done something meaningful and left a mark, of giving away the fruits of your labour, not the feeling of possessing and holding on to as many things as possible.

[killinqpills]

★ ─── yandere sagau.

𝐋𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄.

𝕿𝗛𝗘 imposter was a florist.

Barbatos simply pushed that information far back within the confines of his mind, it wouldn't have served to sway his judgement anyways, because regardless of his divinity, he was but a servant when faced against a being higher than that of celestia.

He exists for the sole purpose of appeasing the creator, he will do well in bending to their will, to scramble for perfection at even a mere flick of their hand, and if that same hand demands the death of the mortal brave enough to usurp the creator right beneath their noses, then that is what shall happen.

But venti, was an entirely different tale.

He was a mere bard, who sang rhymes as old as time in a tavern filled with drunk rowdy men. Spending the hours of the late day drinking his sorrows away with his seventh glass of dandelion wine, he likes apples just as much as wine, and has a particular disdain for cats and slimy things.

He was not as mighty of a god as some may claim him to be, for what he held was not strength, but love. So much of it that he'd cut down terrains to make the lands more habitable for his people, granted everyone freedom above all else because he couldn't do the same for the very first person he knew had yearned for it.

Sometimes, he finds himself sitting at the hands of his own statue, a reflection of his status as an archon, even if the eyes that have been carved to look so kind were not his own. He still finds comfort in the way it reminded him of how he was once held as a small sprite.

Gentle.

Like the way you had gifted him dandelions upon learning of his habit to reminisce beneath the stars. You didn't say a word as he took them from you, but with the way you had looked at him so warmly, strangely apologetic for an event in his life that you weren't even around to witness, like you knew, somehow more than he did, and it was more than words could ever offer.

Yearning, healing, and growth.

But what is love to mindless devotion, anyways?

He used to watch you kneel over flower beds, harvesting the prettiest pairs of Cecilia's you could wrap around your fingers, just to neatly distribute them amongst the graves behind the church.

Freedom, honesty of heart, and immortality.

Your own silent way of telling them that they shall never be forgotten, immortal in the way they remain forever living within memories, free in the way they're no longer burdened by the hardships of being alive.

Venti believes you're the kindest soul Teyvat has ever gifted them.

But what is love to mindless devotion?

Now, he watches you kneel before a throne made of gold, with a face mirroring yours looking down upon you. Venti wonders why it's easier to look at you, he wonders why it's only now, that he realized you bore resemblance to the creator, he wonders why he's gripping onto the dandelions within his pocket, now wilted and dried, all in the ways he wishes they weren't.

You're still silent, neither a twitch nor tremble on your form as you took everything they give you, violence and all, with nothing but open arms. Your own silent way of saying their hatred will not be taken to heart.

Venti wishes you weren't that, silent. Somewhere within his conflicted heart, he wishes that before everything had come to this, before the creators descent had shackled you to the fate of death, you'd at least given him your name.

He'd recognize your looks blind from the way the winds seem to lovingly caress your hair, he'd know your voice deaf from the way you'd knowingly hum along his songs like you've heard it all before.

But he doesn't know your name.

As you await your fate by the blade in the creators hand, smiling so softly as if you weren't about to bleed out on the ground in mere seconds, all Venti could think was;

They look nothing alike.

Not in the way your features seem to drip with compassion and humanity, so soft in the way the petals which you harvest seem to be. Has the creator always looked so, vicious? With the way their eyes seemed to widen with pure madness, the grin on their lips was anything but kind, anything but the way the scriptures had once to describe them to be.

Loving.

What's loving about all this?

Having their acolytes stand in a line beside them, with an audience surrounding your shriveled form, chanting for a punishment he couldn't understand why you deserved.

Venti remembers the heavy atmosphere that once engulfed the air as an order was placed upon them to hunt you down and drag you back. He remembers being sick to his stomach as he watches the adeptus, xiao, step over your carefully planted garden with little care and demanded that you surrender yourself.

Venti remembers feeling angry at you for doing so willingly.

He wishes you'd at least put up a fight, he wishes you had at least turned to him for help, wishes he had given it.

Venti wishes for a lot of things.

But what is love to mindless devotion?

"You're a brave little thing."

The creator begins, cooing almost, as if talking to a child that had taken something they don't own, but every word was spiked with venom, so much so that despite them being directed at you, everyone else feels oddly poisoned.

"You've played a mockery out of me, did you enjoy every second of it?"

From the corner of his eye, Venti watches as Morax twitch. The only sign of doubt he was willing to show as the creator's most devoted acolyte, in comparison to him, whose hand, still gripping the dandelions within his fist, began to tremble.

Nahida wasn't here.

Morax tries to ignore what her absence could've been insinuating. He tries to ignore the way a feeling of revulsion ignites within him as he stands closest to the creator. But he wonders how long he could play blind to every cry Teyvat seemed to let out as every second of this goes on.

He knows better than to assume it's due to the creators foul mood, for does the sky mourn so deeply for mere anger? The soil beneath his feet grieves for something they have yet to lose, for someone─ his eyes briefly flicker to your knees, where grass strangely grow the softest, as if hoping to cushion your inevitable fall.

He lets his gaze wonder, from the darkening skies, to the wilting plants, all the way towards the crowd that surrounds them. Citizens from only four nations had came to watch the show, something that Zhongli knows is simply a threat hidden beneath the guise of justice being served, a warning.

Anyone who's willing to go against the creators claim to the highest of all thrones will be dealt with.

Yet three archons and their people remain absent, and the creator has yet to bat an eye to the obvious rejection of their existence.

Zhongli feels his finger twitch.

The chants ringing against his ears, grating and annoying.

Beelzebub remains stoic beside him.

"Don't worry, I'll grant you the mercy of sharing your final words." The creator sighed heavily, as if that mere decision took more than it did to take a life.

You remain silent, gaze wandering slowly, carefully, as if you were searching for something yet nothing at all. Kaeya, alone in the crowd without his brother there─ Diluc couldn't come, couldn't stand there without feeling as though he'll empty his organs out at the very sight of you hurt─ wonders exactly what it is you're looking for. It couldn't have been sympathy, you seemed so full of it already, why would you desire more, especially from these people?

He doesn't think you're looking for a savior either, perhaps it's been well over an hour since you've been brought there, forced to kneel on the dirty ground, submitting to everything the crowd would throw at you. Threats, curses and stones, all of it without much of a fuss.

If it was help you're looking for, you would've been begging for it from the start. Strange, you seemed almost resolved to accept your fate.

The calla lilies burn at his palms, he's gentle with the way he holds them, afraid that if he had held it even a tad bit firmer, it would crumble. Like how he feels as though if he removes his eyes from your form, you'd be gone in a blink. It doesn't matter if his eyes are stinging from dryness, or were they tears? Kaeya didn't wish to know, all he wanted was to engrave every edge of your existence in his memory if this shall be the last chance he'll ever get.

Most people aren't often aware of how much time they have with someone, he's anything but lucky, but to meet your eyes for the very last time, to receive that loving smile of yours despite the bruises on your skin, he feels like a star had fallen just for him.

His own to make a wish from, but what if what he wants is more time with you?

Your smile just turns all soft, the way he's familiar with it.

I'm sorry.

Huh, you seem to always know, don't you? Somehow it's as if you can speak to his soul, a language he was never familiar with yet know so fluently just to answer you.

I'm sorry too.

"Hm? Nothing at all? Fine then."

Upon your silence, the creator gestures to Morax, telling him to do the honors.

Venti feels his chest thud violently.

Ei sways in place, before stilling once more. Wondering what kind of honor is given from killing someone who'd remain innocent until the creator's arrival. Her mind wanders back to the carefully preserved flowers, Padisarah Orchids, hidden somewhere within her quarters. A gift from Yae who had claimed to have gotten it for free from a traveling florist.

She'd describe them as beautifully gentle in every way, like the very flower they carried with them.

Ei didn't know what other description would've fitted you so perfectly.

Purity, admiration and respect.

Everything she should've, but couldn't't feel for the creator.

You'd like Sakura petals, she couldn't help but think. It's color was as delicate as your soul, as beautiful as the smile you wore now despite the darkness which surrounds you. Ei was once like that, sinking into oblivion for what she believed was necessary, but she had hands to pull her back up.

You do not.

Ei was conflicted.

But love was small against mindless devotion, and Beelzebub couldn't have agreed less, yet regardless of her thoughts, she was still nothing more than a mere tool for the creator to puppet for their desires, no matter how selfish.

If that were true, why do you tremble so, Ei?

She chooses to look away.

Furina though, felt hopeless. She regretted not taking Neuvillette's offer to attend in her place. She knew that if it were him standing before such injustice, he would've done something, would've spoken up to defend the innocent soul being painted a villain right before her very eyes.

She was an archon yes, but ultimately powerless against gods who have lived far longer than she had, known more than she ever could. Because alas, the curse of immortality did not make her any less human.

500 years did not make her wiser nor stronger, perhaps all it ever did was remind her of the loneliness she had endured. The pain of being left in the dark, of playing a role she did not want. She was given a script with no context and was told to do what she must.

Was it the same for you? She wonders. Were you given the gift of life as well, to experience the beauty of time and the end of it, but with the consequences of something as simple as existing?

Furina knew better than to scorn you for the sin the creator had claimed you've committed. For she knew that at times, you aren't given the chance to write your own fate. Sometimes, the pen dances along your pages for you, leaving you to slip on leftover ink.

Furina remains silent, the heavy mask she put on as an obedient acolyte was slipping ever so slightly.

Don't look at her like that.

Like you see right through the cracks and love her anyways.

Zhongli approaches you with a spear held loosely within his hand, hoping if he'd wished enough, it'll slip through his fingers and everyone would simply call it a day. But things don't exactly work out that way.

Zhongli wishes, that instead of the warm eyes you fix on him, it was a glare instead, as vicious as the ones being directed at you, because then maybe, it would've made it easier to point the the sharp part of the weapon against your chest, right above where your heart hid, but not really.

It's almost as if your heart was glowing, in a way, he supposes that's what people would describe as wearing your heart on your sleeve. He could almost feel it beat if he focuses hard enough, in fact, if everyone would just shut up for a moment, he bets he can hear the way it thuds against your ribs so calmly, easing away his worries.

Zhongli had never envied a mortal more than he did now, he wonders what it feels to be like you, does your soul find it easy to rest when night falls unlike he? Unburdened by the decisions he had to make for the better and worst? Is your skin as warm as the expression you give him now?

You still haven't spoken a word.

And for a moment, he finds himself envying flowers, as childish as it was. For they know the sound of your voice, they're familiar with the touch of your hands, they're aware of every single one of your doings, and Zhongli wishes they were anything but good. Because then maybe, maybe, sinking a blade to your heart and depriving it of life would be easier to do.

He doesn't want to, truly.

But Morax, despite his divinity, is a servant through and through. For his people, for order, and for the creator, and they, had grown impatient.

"Ugh, enough of this. Kill them." Venomous, like every fiber of their being knew nothing of gentleness, not like how you seemed to drip with nothing but that. The crowd is silenced with fear, and Zhongli, despite himself, raises the weapon in his hand.

And at the same moment as you finally spoke, Morax hurls it into your flesh with eyes closed.

"Why do you smell like hyacinth?"

And oh, your voice was so fucking small. Barely a whisper against Zhongli's ear and his eyes shot open, trembling upon the sight he was met with. Your kneeling form, unable to fall with the way the spear has gone through your chest, all the way through the middle and back out, embedding itself on the ground, prompting you up like some kind of doll made for a circus attraction.

Nobody could cheer, they could not find it in themselves to do so, as they watched you bleed, crimson liquid, as warm as the sun, dripping down the handle of the weapon, slowly, almost hauntingly. They're once again reminded of their humanity as they see the light fade from your very eyes.

Then, a clap. Alone in the silence, the creator laughs in glee at the sight, and nobody else could recall why they were cheering in the first place. This was supposed to be a well deserved punishment no? For daring to usurp the creator, for daring to, what? Sell flowers while they wore the face of a being that holds power over them all?

Zhongli is sick to his stomach.

There's no boom, no light that sparks or any kind of darkness vanishing upon your death, there's only silence. Loud, ringing, he briefly questions what he's done.

Why do you smell like hyacinth?

Hyacinth? Ah, yes. He's familiar with that kind of plant, they're associated with rebirth and deep love. Known for their gorgeous visual appeal, they're mostly popular in spring with a very distinct fragrance.

But Zhongli knows better than to assume that's what you meant.

No.

Why do you smell like sorrow?

Yeah, that makes much more sense. Zhongli smells of deep regret, before he even took a life that was not his to take, he smelled of a deep desire to grieve. That's what purple Hyacinth symbolizes, right?

He remembers now, the day Hu tao had come back to the parlor with hundreds of Hyacinths within her arms, a mix of purples, blues and whites. Upon being asked where she got them, she spoke of a traveling florist, who offered them to her as a gift to the dead. She rambled on about how strangely endearing this person was, how eager they seemed to be to share their knowledge of flowers.

The white ones are purity, but they can also represent prayers for a loved one.

The blue ones were as simple as something tied to sincere care.

Zhongli represents purple ones.

I'm sorry. Please forgive me.

A violet cry was heard behind him, as violent as the winds became as Venti raised a weapon against the creator. Gasp and shouts could be heard, but Zhongli pays them no mind, eyes trained on your unmoving form, focused on the regret he feels, on the apologies he cannot push out with his tongue, distracted with the way something shines against his eyes.

Gold.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 :

Woah, that was ass.

And for anyone who's wondering, yeah I pulled those flower meanings out of my ass. Not literally tho, I just searched them and used the first thing I saw, don't come for me/hj

Also each of the characters inner monologues or, whatever you call them is my own interpretation of them, may or may not be cannon, I honestly wasn't trying to make them accurate, this was just for fun so don't come for me for that as well/srs

There will be multiple parts to this if I ever get motivation, mwah.

[yolli-es]

I’m so sorry I loved your yandere jinx headcanons I was just wondering if we could get a alphabet yandere jinx since we both love it

Yandere!Jinx alphabet 💥

Tags: NO spoilers for season 2, mentions of death, mentions of blood, PROBABLY some points were misunderstood by me due to not knowing the language. LET ME KNOW IF I GOT IT WRONG!

Yandere!Jinx was liked by so many people :D

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Physical contact is number one on her list of "how to show people you're not disgusted by them." She certainly showers you with attention before the relationship begins, but you will notice a dramatic difference once it's official. Jinx tried to keep her boundaries and stay away from you for at least a couple of hours. But why would she do it now? You always hold hands, even when it's awkward and uncomfortable. Even if you're in the middle of a shootout right now, don't worry; she has a gun that she can use with one hand. 

Most of the time, Jinx's hands reach out to you unconsciously. She doesn't worry about it much. 

Another way Jinx speaks is by suddenly becoming talkative. She is usually not eager to tell anyone anything about herself, even if it's something insignificant like her favorite food or what she did that day. But with you, she can't shut up, she wants to tell you everything, preferably twice. You'll notice that at some point she'll stop talking right in the middle of her story, awkwardly looking down. After the question "What next?" she starts to beam and continue as if nothing happened. She likes it when you really listen. 

Over time, Jinx will become greedier about this, and if you tell her "no," she will get angry. 

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Not really much messy. Jinx definitely won't just watch someone try to beat the crap out of you, but she won't destroy anyone who looks at you the wrong way either. More often than not, it ends with just one shot to the shoulder or knee. That was, is, and always will be the most clear explanation of why you shouldn't be killed.

She won't let them repeat what they started if one warning wasn't enough.

However, sometimes the voices get loud, and in a fit of rage, Jinx can kill a couple of people. Insecurity and doubts overcome her at such moments, and she sees no better way than to simply remove the threat and competition. She won't be sorry, but it certainly won't be part of her plan or desire.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Find yourself a replacement for Jinx, say you're going to leave, and she will kidnap you. She will never let you go so easily; it will not happen. Jinx will console herself with the fact that you are simply naive and stupid, that the other person took advantage of this, and now she is simply saving you from an irreparable mistake. After all, in reality, you do not want to leave her, and no one except her is really interesting to you, isn't it?

But Jinx isn't stupid after all. She knows what she's doing, and you definitely won't be thrilled by that. Jinx will be patient. As much as Jinx can be, of course. Yell at her, call her names, and try to break free; she will endure all this. Until you say that you will leave her forever, like everyone else before you. Her emotional breakdowns won't take long to come. During this, Jinx may scream, get angry, and even swing at you. But she will never hurt you, even if you are a pain in her ass. Even if you try to fight her, she will patiently endure the blows, simply immobilizing you and not causing additional damage.

Jinx didn't want to resort to it, and she's really worried that she's only made things worse.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Jinx will definitely control your every move and will be aware of everything that happens in your life. She sees nothing wrong with forbidding you to walk alone, communicate with certain people, and do dangerous work.

At first you'll even like it, but later you'll understand how suffocating it is. She won't leave you alone even in the shower, won't let you communicate with your childhood friend, and won't let you do your favorite archery. What once seemed like concern to you turned out to be just the whims of her insecurity.

"All this is too dangerous; you know that I want the best for you, trinkly?" Jinx will say for the thousandth time with the most innocent eyes in consolation, knowing full well that your opinion about this is of no interest to her. You know this, but you still fall for it, unable to escape its trap.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Jinx tells you a lot, but not everything. She finds it hard to be vulnerable with you, even though she knows how warmly you embrace her flaws. Whenever she thinks about telling you about her past, Mylo shuts her down. Jinx can't help but think that her past makes her a weak Powder, and you only need a strong Jinx. And she can't be a disappointment for you, that's what Claggor said to her. 

Only once will she be able to tell you her real name.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Surprise, adrenaline, pride, affection and a strong desire to suppress it.

She appreciates your fighting spirit, but she can't ignore your attempts at resistance, no matter how much she wants to. After all, it could become a problem in the future, and Jinx genuinely doesn't want to confront you in a serious fight. No matter how strong you are and how seriously you attack Jinx, all your attempts will be a joke in her eyes. You will never compare to her sister in this.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

It depends on her mood, the weather, her plans for the day, and the noise level of the voices in her head that day. Jinx is very unpredictable, so one moment she's laughing and counting to ten, and the next she's threatening to amputate your legs. You know these are just threats, so Jinx has to chase you around the building until she catches you.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

That moment when you told her you didn't need her and wanted to leave for the first time. That was when she kidnapped you, and you so desperately wanted freedom.

Jinx had definitely gone crazy, and the echoes of your words still tormented you both. Unfortunately, you said it too confidently, viciously, and sensually. Jinx was silent for a couple of seconds, while her breathing stopped, her pupils became wider, and her face turned pale. After realizing how serious this was, Jinx jumped up from her seat and rushed towards you. But not with the purpose of hitting, but only to put your tied hands on her throat. She didn't even cry while she frustratedly told you to kill her since you didn't need her under your hysterical screams and requests to forget about it. She looked so apathetic, broken, and disappointed that you began to hate yourself for it. Why did you say that? Do you hate this fragile girl so much? You couldn't stop thinking about it while you tearfully begged Jinx to stop strangling herself with your hands.

You apologized more than a hundred times that day, and you will never forget this the scene. It is truly traumatic to watch your beloved girl strangling herself with your hands because of the cruelty of your own words.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Next to her, and the rest is completely unimportant. Jinx never thinks about the future, wanting to live in the present. It is difficult for her to follow the plan in Zaun, so she can only hope.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

She's jealous as hell, and there's no better way to deal with it than to blow something up. Someone, to be precise. She won't be able to do this and will simply shoot them. Jinx is very insecure and thinks that everyone around her is a better option than her. She is afraid that you will also realize this as you become more sociable, so Jinx does everything possible to prevent this.

Jinx herself doesn't realize how jealous she is. Just doesn't want to realize. She won't take responsibility for it, so denying the problem is the best way to survive it.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

If you're here, it means Jinx is nearby and everyone knows it. She'll be back in a few minutes and let everyone see Jinx obsessed, dependent, and loving again. She won't hesitate to hold your hand, body, or even your ass in front of everyone. She doesn't indulge in kissing often, but sometimes Jinx feels the need to do it, even if it's awkward for you while everyone is watching.

She can't stay too far away from you; it physically hurts her.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

What would seem romantic and loving in Zaun? Protection and shelter for free. That's what Jinx did first. It seemed most logical to her to do it in a way you understand and only then resort to the romance she knows. Without saying a word to you, Jinx will sort out your problems as deftly as she creates her weapons. Still, the years with Silko take their toll, and even the most fearsome thugs are just children to her. Don't think too much, and just enjoy caring from Jinx before she gets too much.

Then don't be surprised when you see burning buildings in Piltover with the words "love my trinkly <3" written on them.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Jinx with you and Jinx without you are completely different, strangers to each other.

People who have never dealt with Jinx and see her for the first time with you mistakenly think that she is just a petty idiot and everyone around is afraid of her for nothing. Never shows violence, uses small guns, and is just busy with you most of the time.

And then they meet the real Jinx. She still seems harmless, but her aura is suddenly completely different. You don't know what to expect. Laugh at her, but don't shout too loudly when she jokingly rips your arm off because you weren't paying attention to her instructions. "Oh, it's not fatal; don't whine like that. Shut up and listen," Jinx smiles tightly, making funny faces. She'll give him the shimmer, but not right away; maybe it'll teach him to take life-threatening situations right in front of them more seriously. Only then do they get it.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Not too cruel, something like "no dessert this time." Jinx doesn't see you as particularly dangerous or serious about escaping.

But what if she senses it? Jinx will lock you away somewhere for an indefinite period of time again. If you were close to escaping, be prepared for heavy security measures and possibly no chance of ever getting out. There are no windows, minimal furniture, and belongings; your hands and feet will always be chained to the wall. Don't make her do soft upholstery in the room; don't hit yourself the walls.

Jinx may punish you during sex, but it will be playful and for pleasure.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

It's easier to say that you will be allowed to do basic things like eating food, have a safe hobby, go outside, participate in safe deliveries, attend negotiations, and help Jinx in the workshop. Of course, all this together with Jinx and nothing more.

Remember, she does all this out of caring.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

As I said, as patient as Jinx can be. She forgives you a lot of things. A lot, but not everything.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

No. This will be the end for her.

One can only imagine what she will do. Kill herself? Go completely mad? Blow up all of Piltover? Start a war? Perhaps she will do all of these things in order. Jinx's psyche is cracking every day, and you were the only one who supported her. Someone who would always be there and who she could rely on in difficult times. She did everything she could just to know that you would feel all the love, care, and acceptance from Jinx. If you abandon her like everyone else after all this, then what is left for her to exist for? All the good will be destroyed by her own hands, and she will not be able to forgive for it.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

She let you go when you confessed your love to her, and your relationship became official. Of course, not right away and only after Jinx was convinced of it. Sometimes she even doubts her sensitivity to the emotions and real desires of other people.

She regrets that abducting you, but she'll do it again if she feels the need. Jinx just hopes it doesn't affect you too traumatically and that you understand why she's doing it.

For love and only for love.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Jinx has always had her own peculiarities, and after Vi and Silco left her, they only made the problems she already had worse. Insecurity, a sense of worthlessness, and weakness haunt her every day. She desperately needs to have support, someone she can trust and not be afraid of being abandoned again.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Shit. It's like her soul was turned inside out.

Jinx is very good at understanding people's emotions and their intentions. After spending a lot of time with you, Jinx can tell by just one look that something was wrong with you. And she immediately starts feeling the same way. No matter how good she feels, everything changes if you feel differently. So when you scream, cry, and are completely broken, Jinx feels the same way. It's hard for her to be supportive at that moment because grief has overwhelmed her too. But she still will be there, always. And no matter how shitty or super good you feel, Jinx will always share your feelings.

Only once did she manage to look at you blankly while you cried and screamed, pleading with her to forget your words.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

While other yandere act by the rule "you will be mine!", Jinx is more like "I beg you to be mine".

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

None. Sorry, but she is too smart and sensitive to understand your true intentions. All that remains is to hope for her mercy.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

No, no, and no again. Jinx wants you to stay, not break.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

You are the only one who looks good in her eyes in any state and the only one who attracts her sexually. She will definitely idolize you, although she may not tell about it.

Jinx will also do anything. Tell her to make you president, and she will. Don't be silly about it; Jinx will take your task seriously and will expect love and appreciation in return.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap? (This is the question that I couldn't understand, so the answer is short)

Not for long. Jinx is impatient, and her feelings weigh on her more than most people.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

No matter how carefully Jinx treats you, no matter how loving and patient she tries to be, you will still break. It is impossible to be sane when your entire world is filled with just one person. There will be too much Jinx and too little of the other world. You will also face a lot of manipulation just to stay with her, many of which will be traumatic.

And yet, you love Jinx. You did.

I spent 4 hours of my life on this, and I'm still not happy with the result. It could have been better, but I'm just tired of writing this, and it might be noticeable in the end..

[ang3lofdivinity]

𓏲๋࣭ 𝖲𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖥𝗈𝗋 𝖫𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖸𝗈𝗎🫧˖°

Relationship(s) :: Jinx + Calypso(slightly yandere)!Fem!Reader (romantic)

Genre :: Fluff! And LOTS, LOTTTSSS of angst.

Format :: Oneshot / story

Warnings :: spoilers for season 2 of Arcane, even more trauma than last time!!, death mentions, READER IS NOT CALYPSO - takes her place essentially, Reader leans towards being more yandere (possessive and obsessive over Jinx), Jinx still has some remaining feelings for Ekko, but eventually gives up once again, heavily inspired by Jorge’s “Love In Paradise” + “Not Sorry For Loving You”, Reader is not toxic like Calypso in either of those songs! A bunch of time skips for a few, VERY LONG (I had to split this up into another part dude..), slight imitation to SH? Nothing explicitly stated

A/N :: AAA I actually am very surprised that “Stuck In Paradise” (be sure to read it first! None of this will really make any sense if you don’t read the first part of this!) kinda blew up! + all of the nice comments. TYSM GUYS FOR YOUR SUPPORT, GENUINELY. (I saw 1.9% of you say no btw 🤨). I hope this lives up to your expectations!! (W.C: 10.6k)

Ⅰ - Ⅱ - Ⅲ

The days and weeks slipped by in a surreal, dreamlike rhythm for Jinx and you, as if time itself had softened around the edges. Life had never felt this way before; unpredictable yet strangely comforting. You had long resigned yourself to solitude, believing you’d never see another human face again. The gods would probably be tired of seeing so many arrive on your island by pure coincidence and then immediately leaving once they had the chance to. They might as well have put another spell on your island so that nobody else would’ve been able to end up here.

Isolation had become your norm. Your reality.

And then Jinx arrived, shattering that reality you’d become so used to.

She was different. The others who had stumbled upon this forsaken island before her had always left the moment they had gotten the opportunity by the gods themselves, abandoning you to your endless exile. They were fleeting, shadows passing through your life and leaving you to rot.

With one of those sailors? You’d once gotten so attached. Too attached

And then they left you…

Everyone who ever appeared on this island - besides yourself - disappeared within a few weeks.

But Jinx?

She stayed.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you had someone who cared for you.

Even in the loneliness of this place, you weren’t truly alone anymore.

Over time, the two of you began to grow closer, spending hours together in quiet conversation or companionable silence. You were drawn to her sharp edges and fragile strength, and she—though unaccustomed to such things—found herself drawn to your unwavering care. Jinx wasn’t used to safety or protection. The idea of someone looking out for her was.. odd, almost unsettling.

But with you? She was beginning to understand what it felt like to be safe, to not have to look over her shoulder at every corner she turned due to the hostility of those living within the Undercity.

And for you, her presence was a revelation. You loved the sound of her voice, the unexpected humor that flickered through her words during such moments, and the way she slowly let down her guard. There was something healing in her company, something that made the world feel just a little less broken.

For now, the gods seemed to have turned their attention elsewhere, leaving you both in a rare state of peace. This was especially important to you, given the fact you would now be able to relax without their constant nagging or their interferences annoying you, you were free to simply be—to sit together by the fire, to explore the island, to share the small joys of this strange life you’d come to know.

You couldn’t say what the future held, but for now, you had each other.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

.

"Pixie, you're doing it wrong," you said, trying to stifle your giggles as Jinx dangled a net precariously over the water.. and herself.

As for what you both were doing? Well, trying to catch fish! You wanted to create a meal with them eventually, but realized you had begun to run out. So, you told Jinx you were going to be out for a while and collect some fish - to which she ecstatically mentioned she wanted to come with you and try to catch some fish herself.

And how could you say no?

So, you let her tag along.

"What do you mean wrong??" Jinx shot back, mock offense dripping from her tone. She wobbled slightly, balancing on the rocks near the ocean. It's painfully clear that she never has done anything like this before in her life.

“You throw the net in, you pull it out. Boom, fish!”

You rolled your eyes, folding your arms across your chest

"Except the part where the fish actually stay in the net? You know, the most important part?”

"That's an unimportant detail,” Jinx muttered, grinning.

“Hey, wanna see something cool I can do?!” With a sudden movement, she swung the net dramatically, trying to make some sort of cool entertainment for you (something that seemed like an attempt at a handstand)!- ...only for the net to snag on a rock behind her. The momentum of the action sent her sprawling backwards into the shallow water with a loud splash, causing some of the sand and most of the rocks to become wet.

You immediately gasped at the sight, filled with worry as your first thoughts were filled with those of ‘is she okay!?’ ‘Is she hurt!?’.

Then, she sat up from where she’d fallen, net surrounding her within the water as she spat out a bunch of water - almost like that of a waterfall.

This made your concern dissolve into laughter.

“Oh, gods! Jinx, are you okay?" You managed to speak between fits of laughter, rushing closer to where the bluette fell.

Sitting up in the water, Jinx blinked, hair plastered to her face as she turned to look up at you.

"I'm just testing the water quality, obviously." She muttered, clearly salty about her failed trick. And you giggled a bit more about the entire ordeal before finally regaining your composure and clearing your throat.

You extended a hand to help her up, but it seems like Jinx had some other plans in mind for you!

With a mischievous grin, she yanked you into the water beside her.

"AA!! JINXX!" You squealed as the cold water soaked your clothes as you were splashed from the impact. You sat up, moving some hair out of your face before you quickly splashed Jinx in retaliation with a giggle, to which she happily returned with a splash towards you of her own.

By the end of the "fishing trip," you had caught exactly zero fish but had tears of laughter streaming down both of your faces.

You really should take her with you more to catch fish. Though, maybe focus more on the task?..

Nevertheless, you both eventually got out of the water, completely drenched from head to toe. But neither of you minded, given the stupid smiles plastered on both of your faces.

“I’ll let you take a bath first. I’ll take care of your clothes.” You gently patted the damp hair atop Jinx’s head, to which she playfully scoffed at.

You didn’t even notice before - but her hair had grown a bit from the first time you’d met her, her electric blue hair now reaching the base of her neck.

“You want me to cut your hair soon?” You inquired on the walk back with her, dragging the net alongside you as she nodded, grinning ever so slightly. And for the rest of the walk back to the palace, you both let the comforting silence linger between the two of you.

The two of you should do this more often..

After returning from the fishing trip and ensuring Jinx was settled for her bath, you take her wet clothes along with your own upon changing into a robe to clean them so they are clean for the next morning while grabbing some of your own clean clothes: a pair for her and a pair for you.

Returning back to the parlor, you begin to fold up a clean set of your own clothes for her to wear, and as you do so - the memories of the evening bring a smile to your face. Jinx’s laughter, her grin, and the way she seemed so carefree during the trip.. it’s rare to see her like that.

You set the clothes you had grabbed for her on a small table outside the bathroom with a light knock on the door before retreating to the kitchen to give her privacy.

By the time Jinx emerges and finds you returning to the parlor, her damp hair towel-dried and her face flushed from the warm bath, you’re preparing your own turn to clean yourself off. She’s wearing your clothes that you prepped outside (which is similar to that of what you gave her when she first arrived here): an oversized shirt and some loose, comfortable shorts, looking surprisingly at ease despite the borrowed attire.

“These are comfy,” she says, tugging at the fabric with a grin.

“Though. I’m still the one with style.” She proudly proclaims, hands on her hips.

You laugh at her comment before turning on your heel to look at her.

“Right, because soaking wet and covered in sand is the pinnacle of fashion?”

Jinx sticks her tongue out at you in response before speaking up again.

“Says the one who’ll be looking like a prune after a bath!” She flops dramatically onto the couch, draping herself across it.

“You better hurry up, Trinket. The night’s still young, and I’m not done hanging out with you yet.”

You giggle at her words for a moment before you slip away for your own bath, the warmth of the water washing away the chill of the evening and the lingering bits of sand stuck to your skin.

As you take your time, massaging the shampoo into your scalp, rubbing the conditioner in your hair - you find your thoughts drifting to Jinx—her laugh, her little playful banter with you, the way she seems so at home with you despite how chaotic she usually acts around you. It’s oddly refreshing to see her in such a state.

Eventually, you finish cleaning yourself, draining the water from your bath and drying yourself upon getting out of the tub. You take your time to brush out your damp hair, change into the fresh clothes you had gotten for yourself, making sure you look at least decent before placing your robe on a small rack for later use.

Then, you return to the parlor, just to find Jinx sprawled across the couch, idly tinkering with some small gadget she must’ve grabbed from her stash.

The moment she sees you she perks up, fixing her position on the couch.

“Took you long enough!” she teased you, patting the spot next to her.

“C’mon, sit down. I’m not gonna bite!”

“..much.” You roll your eyes at her comment but take the seat right next to her.

The quiet hum of the room settling over you both. The late-night air is cool, and the faint sounds of the trees slightly swaying from side to side to the gentle breeze is a comforting sound you’d long gotten accustomed to listening for.

And when you least expect it (given she’s never done anything like this before) — Jinx leans her head against your shoulder.

“So,” she says after a moment, her voice softer now.

“Today was fun. Stupid, messy, and fishless, but fun.”

You smile as a small giggle leaves your mouth, resting your head lightly against hers.

“Yeah, it was. We should do it again sometime.”

“Definitely,” she murmurs, her fingers idly tracing patterns on your arm. (You cannot deny the heat warming your cheeks, and the way your heart skips a beat).

“But next time, I’m catching something. I’m not letting those fish laugh at me again.” You chuckle softly at her little comment before closing your eyes as the two of you sit in comfortable silence.

The night stretches on, peaceful and easy, as if the world outside doesn’t exist for a little while.

Right now?

It’s just you and Jinx.

Though you’ll have to rest shortly, you can take some time to simply relax with the person you care most about.

Jinx was utterly spent.

The day had been physically demanding, given from the few inventions she had begun in the morning, to helping you clean around the palace, to the fishing trip outside.

But even with all of the exhaustion.. it was still strangely peaceful.

For a fleeting moment, she almost forgot about the chaos and pain of her past.

Almost.

When she returned to her room, she slumped onto the bed without much thought. Her eyelids felt heavy, but sleep was a complicated thing for her.

The echoes of past memories, the ones she’d never fully escaped, and even the simple fact that she barely ever even got sleep when she was working under Silco or him.

Those memories always lingered just on the edge of her consciousness. It was always hard to tell if they’d leave her be or drag her into nightmares.

Tonight, though, her body gave in quicker than her mind could protest. She drifted off in an awkward position: one arm dangling off the bed, legs tangled together, and her head tilted at an angle that would definitely give her a sore neck in the morning.

However.. you were there, no?

You slowly peeked into Jinx’s room.

You hesitated in the doorway, biting your bottom lip, debating with yourself whether you should go in. It’s invasive and incredibly weird— but.. you just need to make sure she’s safe. Your heart raced as it always did when you checked on Jinx, a habit you’ve grown.

You’ve gotten too attached to the bluette to allow anything horrible to happen to her, so you’ve made it a routine to check in on her every so often. Most times after she had fallen asleep. On those nights where she hadn’t rested still for whatever reason, you made your nighttime visits clear to her as you just worried about her well being.

Of course you never told her you did it every night, you simply told her it was because you could clearly hear her being restless - which thankfully convinced her.

You felt bad about lying to her.. but it felt weird enough that you were doing this.

Stepping inside, you made sure your footsteps were gentle and quiet so as to not alarm Jinx. The soft glow of moonlight spilling in from the window illuminating Jinx’s peaceful but slightly uncomfortable looking form.

Seeing the bluette sprawled out, you couldn’t help but let a soft chuckle escape past your lips.

How does she even manage to sleep like that?

Finally making your way over to the side of the bed, you knelt beside the bed, carefully lifting Jinx’s arm and tucking it back onto the mattress. You also adjusted Jinx’s legs so they were more relaxed and less twisted.

Of course—not in a violating or weird way, as uncouth as these actions might seem. You’re doing it to make her comfortable! Not to be a creep!

And finally, you slowly pulled the extra blanket over Jinx.

The entire time, your heart swelled with an overwhelming tenderness upon seeing the sight. Seeing the chaotic woman you’d grown so fond of finally relaxed and asleep.

Though once Jinx was tucked in, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave immediately.

So, you lingered at the edge of the bed, your eyes tracing the lines of Jinx’s face. The bluette looked so peaceful in sleep, so vulnerable and far removed from the sharp edges and guarded demeanor she carried when awake, especially when she’d first arrived here on Ogygia. She seemed so harsh, so on guard twenty-four seven!

But could you blame her? Of course not.

Nearly everyone who came before her was exactly the same.

Though just as you had begun thinking of a multitude of other things — there’s something that got you out of your thoughts: upon closer inspection, Jinx had a stray piece of hair covering her face in a rather.. odd way. It was almost going into her mouth.

…

You hesitated before leaning closer, your fingers trembling as you brushed the stray piece of hair behind her ear and away from Jinx’s face.

However, as you did so - the bluette shifted slightly.

Oh gods, was she going to wake up!? Was she going to see you here acting like some sort of stalker!?

Your breath hitched, adrenaline coursing through you until —

..she didn’t wake.

You let out a relieved sigh upon figuring out she was simply stirring within her sleep, your fingers lingering near Jinx’s cheek for just a moment longer than necessary.

Then before you finally decided to leave, you whispered softly, almost too quiet to be heard, even by yourself.

“I won’t let anything happen to you… I promise.”

Finally, you stood, your eyes lingering on Jinx one last time before you turned and slipped out of the room.

You closed the door silently behind you and pressed your back against it, exhaling deeply.

Your heart was pounding, but there was a strange, bittersweet comfort in this late night ritual of yours.

You knew you were becoming too attached to her. You knew this wasn’t entirely normal. But at the same time, you couldn’t stop yourself. Jinx had become her whole world—and you were terrified of losing that world of yours once again.

You wouldn’t let that happen.

..

"I’m telling you, this is gonna be the best sandcastle," Jinx declared, crouching down low to pat a misshapen lump of sand into shape once more, grinning with delight at her creation.

You, seated a few feet away and meticulously crafting spires and arches, glanced over at Jinx’s work. You had to bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing at the bluette. It’s not you being rude! It’s just… you cannot tell what she's even making anymore. She started off decent at the beginning of your little trip here - to which she suggested in the first place, and it now… kinda collapsed!

"Uh-huh. And what exactly is that supposed to be?" You inquired, raising an eyebrow before returning to look down at your sandcastle, fixing every little detail as meticulously as possible.

This is a lot more fun than you’d anticipated..

After all, you were once so focused on wallowing within your sorrow, never finding the time to genuinely appreciate any of the fun activities you could have here on the island. I mean, you were trapped here - why would you ever want to get comfortable with your surroundings if you were here unwillingly and hated every minute of it?

But with Jinx around?

It definitely makes it worth it..

"It’s a fortress, obviously!" Jinx replied indignantly at your inquiry as if it was some sort of offense, gesturing at the uneven walls.

“Gotta be ready for a sand invasion."

You shook your head before looking down at your own sandcastle, trying to hide your smile from the bluette.

"Well, I hope your fortress is sturdy, because my castle is going to outshine it in every way."

"Oh, it’s a competition now?" Jinx’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she grabbed a handful of wet sand and launched it in your direction. It splattered harmlessly against the ground near you!

"Jinx!" You gasped, pretending to be scandalized by the sudden bold action of the woman. You eventually retaliated with your own handful of sand, carefully aiming so it landed just shy of Jinx’s leg. Of course, just because you didn’t want to get her dirty once again, nor did you want to get dirty with sand. That stuff is horrible to get out! (Though, you probably won’t be able to avoid that)

The "sandcastle competition" quickly devolved into a full-blown sand fight, both of you laughing so hard you both could barely breathe as you launched sand ball after sand ball of each other, even getting up from where you were seated and rushing around the shore of the beach of your island.

When you both finally collapsed in the sand, covered in grit and panting from laughter, you glanced over at Jinx, your expression softening at the sight of her being so happy.

It filled your chest with a warm, fuzzy feeling that never seemed to truly go away. Hell, every time you saw her it would fill your chest with that odd feeling, one you could not figure out for the life of you.

But.. it wasn’t unwelcome.

"You’re trouble," you said, brushing a stray strand of hair from the bluette’s face.

"Yeah," Jinx replied, grinning up at the sky.

"But you like it."

You could stay like this forever..

Later on upon cleaning each other up from the small sand fight the both of you had - you found yourselves simply sitting together on the cliff near the palace, letting the rhythm of the waves surrounding the island and the chirping of the birds fluttering on fill the silence.

Jinx leaned against your shoulder as the two of you watched the sunset. The warm hues of orange and pink bathed the horizon, casting a golden glow over the beach. Your heart definitely skipped a couple of beats, warmth spreading to your cheeks as you tried to remain calm in this situation.

For once? She seemed completely at peace.

You didn’t dare move of course, afraid that even the smallest shift might disturb the moment. So instead, you let your gaze drift over Jinx’s profile, your heart beating a little faster than usual.

"Do you ever think about what’s out there?" Jinx asked suddenly, her voice soft.

"Out where?" You replied, tilting your head slightly.

"Out there," Jinx repeated, gesturing vaguely toward the horizon of your island.

"The people, the places. Everything I left behind."

Your expression grew somber at the mention, turning your gaze to look back over the horizon.

You haven’t left this island for so long, you’ve forgotten what it’s like out there. So many things have changed, but this little island of yours stayed the same, unchanging until Jinx arrived.

“Do you regret it?"

Jinx was quiet for a long moment, seemingly thinking about your words.

“Sometimes. I think about my sister, Violet or— Vi. About how I left her to scream and cry.”

"And then other times, I think about Ekko. About what could’ve been."

She let out a small, bitter laugh.

“But then I think about how it’d all probably go wrong anyway."

You reached out, hesitating for just a moment before placing your hand gently over Jinx’s.

"You don’t have to run from it, you know." You turned your head once more, gazing down at Jinx as she rested upon your shoulder.

Then, Jinx turned to look at you, your faces closer than either of you realized.

“And what about you? You don’t run from anything?"

Your smile was faint but tinged with sadness.

"I’ve been running for a long time." You let out a small giggle, trying to make light out of the dark situation.

Your gazes lingered, unspoken words wishing to be said. But before either of you could say anything more, Jinx leaned back, breaking the moment.

“..I’m gonna go inside.”

And then she finally arose from the spot on the cliff before walking off, leaving to your lonesome once more.

As the days blended into weeks, and you found yourself tethered to Jinx in ways that… terrified you as much as they comforted you.

At first, it was innocent—a lingering glance here, a brush of your fingers there. But soon, it became something more consuming, an ache that twisted in your chest every time Jinx so much as wandered out of sight. (You don’t understand this. You hate it, but you love it because it makes you.. happy).

During the day, you were never far from Jinx’s side. Wherever Jinx went, you followed, often under the pretense of needing to “check on her.” Whether it was a quiet walk along the shoreline or a shared meal, your presence was a constant.

You insisted on carrying Jinx’s tools when she tinkered, your hands brushing against Jinx’s at every opportunity. You lingered in every hug that Jinx had finally submitted to, holding on just a little too long, your fingers tightening as if letting go might cause Jinx to vanish.

And at night? The same ritual would happen as you remembered. You tiptoed to Jinx’s room, your bare feet silent against the cool flooring of your palace. You’d push the door open just enough to peek inside, your gaze softening at the sight of Jinx sprawled out on the bed, her breathing deep and even.

You couldn’t help yourself.

You’d creep closer, your fingertips brushing a stray lock of blue hair from Jinx’s face, or even simply just fixing her position on the bed so she would be more comfortable and not have a horrible ache within her neck. Your heart would flutter at the faintest smile that graced the sleeping woman’s lips. Satisfied, you would then retreat to your own room, but sleep never came easily after.

The worry, the need to ensure Jinx was still there, always tugged at your mind.

So many have left you, hurt you, vanished before your very eyes due to the powers of the gods above as they cursed you for everything you’d done. Cursed you to this island.

But not this time.

Jinx will stay. You’re SURE of it!

Not only that: but hand-holding became as natural as breathing, your own fingers always lacing through Jinx’s whenever you both walked together. Jinx didn’t seem to mind—in fact, she seemed to enjoy the closeness!

The idea of Jinx leaving was unbearable. You couldn’t stop replaying the memory of Jinx’s arrival, the way your heart had soared for the first time in a century. You’d been so alone for so long, her only companions being the unchanging skies, the shining sun, and the whispering wind. Everyone left you, abandoned you to nothing because they HATED you. Hated you for what you’d done, for everything you had done.

Your fear of being alone forever became overwhelming after the last being had left your little island over a few years ago.

Now?

Jinx has become your entire world.

“You okay there, trinket?” Jinx’s voice broke through your thoughts.

“Hm?” You blinked, realizing you’d been staring at Jinx for far too long.

“You’ve been quiet today,” Jinx teased, a smirk tugging at her lips.

“Usually, you’re fussing over me by now.”

“Hey! I’m not fussing,” you stammered, furrowing your brows.

“I’m just… making sure you’re okay. You have a horrible tendency to get hurt, you know!”

Jinx chuckled, reaching out to ruffle your hair.

“You worry too much, trinket. I’m not going anywhere.”

The words were meant to reassure, but they struck you like a dagger.

The promise of permanence felt fragile, like glass that could shatter at the slightest touch. And you would not let that happen. Not now, not ever.

“I know,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

But the fear remained within you, gnawing at your mind non-stop.

As the days after passed, your behavior only intensified. You found yourself tracing Jinx’s movements, memorizing the way her hair caught the sunlight, the sound of her laugh, the curve of her smile. You cataloged every detail, desperate to hold onto the pieces of Jinx that made you feel alive.

Your need for Jinx’s presence grew insatiable, and while Jinx didn’t seem to notice—or perhaps didn’t mind, and you began to feel the weight of your own desperation. It wasn’t fair to Jinx, this suffocating need to keep her close, but you couldn’t stop yourself. After all, how could you, when Jinx was the only light in a world that had been so dark for so long? When everyone had chosen to leave you upon hearing the god’s messengers give them the opportunity.

Yet this woman didn’t.

She never left you!!

So, why wouldn’t you grow overprotective?

And as you sat together while watching the sunset, you couldn’t resist resting your head on Jinx’s shoulder, like she’d done a while ago. Your heart pounded as you felt Jinx relax into the gesture, her warmth seeping into your skin.

“Thanks for sticking with me, Pixie,” you whispered, your voice soft.

Jinx’s breath hitched. She wanted to say something, to confess the depths of her feelings, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she simply tightened her grip on your hand, praying that the moment wouldn’t end.

But deep down, she knew that she couldn’t keep living in fear. Something would have to give: whether it was her unspoken feelings or the fragile balance of your relationship.

This has become out of control.

You’ve become insane, haven’t you??

I mean- at first, Jinx didn’t even notice the depth of your little obsession. She’d connect the clinginess as an endearing gesture, even comforting. A gesture that you were fully trusting her now. Jinx had always been starved for affection herself, and your constant attention felt like it was healing her own wounds.

But as your behavior worsened, Jinx.. began to feel smothered.

The amount of you can recount that you’d stepped out of line made you feel sick the more you thought about it.

Like, even though this was unintentional, you had begun to subtly discourage Jinx from exploring the island on her own. Every time Jinx suggested going off by herself, you'd find excuses to tag along or subtly guilt-trip convince her into staying.

“I thought we could spend the day together. Aren’t I enough company?”

Your nightly checks had grown more intrusive. Instead of just brushing Jinx’s hair aside and leaving like you used to do, you’d linger, sitting by her bedside for hours, watching her sleep to ensure she was “safe.”

And as your behavior escalated, the thoughts of what you were doing became overwhelming, as you had become hyper aware of the fact that this was in fact becoming out of your control, how your clinginess worsened, everything.

You feel powerless. Too powerless to stop yourself.

Your loneliness and fear of abandonment—rooted in those centuries of isolation.. they only feed into your cycle.

You’d begun suppressing your emotions around the woman, sabotaging her independence, panicking at any separation.

And she finally picked up on all of it.

Though at first, Jinx didn’t not notice the depth of your obsession. Your constant attention felt like it was healing her own wounds.

But as your behavior worsened, Jinx had begun to feel smothered.

“You’ve been acting kinda weird lately, angel,” Jinx said, a playful lilt in her voice as you two sat together. She threw a pebble toward the water, watching it skip.

“Y’know, you don’t have to stick to me like glue. I’m not going anywhere, so you can chill.”

Your laugh came a little too quickly, a little too forced.

“I’m just looking out for you, Pixie.”

Jinx raised an eyebrow, side-eyeing you at your response.

“Yeah, but looking out and hovering are two different things.”

You brushed the concern away with a soft smile, changing the subject almost instantly. Jinx let it go that day, but the unease lingered. She was used to people being interested in her, fascinated even (I mean with the Jinxers and all).

But this? This was starting to feel different.

And as days turned into weeks once more, and your behavior didn’t just persist—it grew.

You were always there: waiting by the door when Jinx left her room, hovering close whenever Jinx tinkered with something, insisting on being around for every little thing.

It didn’t take long for Jinx’s patience to wear thin.

“Why do you always have to hover?” Jinx snapped one day, her voice sharp with irritation. She was sitting cross-legged on the ground, pieces of a broken gadget sprawled before her. You were kneeling far too close, watching her hands move.

You flinched at the sudden question.

“I just want to help you—”

“I don’t need help!” Jinx interrupted, throwing her arms up.

“You think I can’t handle myself? ‘Cause I can. Been doing it my whole life!”

The words were harsh, sharper than Jinx intended, but they hit their mark. Your expression faltered, guilt clouding your features as you took a hesitant step back.

Jinx, although frustrated, rubbed the back of her neck, trying to keep her temper in check. She shouldn’t lash out at you like that.. You’ll learn to back off.

“I get it, okay? You care. But, trinket… you’ve gotta let me breathe.”

The silence that followed felt heavy, as neither of you said anything after that.

But still, you were once again staring down at her hands while Jinx grumbled to herself and returned to her work.

And despite her frustration, Jinx wasn’t blind. She saw the way your expression tightened when she walked out of the room, the hollow look that sometimes flickered across your face when you thought no one was watching. And as much as Jinx hated feeling stifled, she couldn’t ignore the pain driving your actions.

One night, after another particularly tense day for the both of you, Jinx finally confronted you. You both were sitting by the fireplace within the parlor, embers crackling. And as she had begun to speak, her tone softened.

“Look, I’m not going anywhere, okay?” she said quietly, drawing your attention. The goddess, or you, had been staring into the flames, lost in thought.

“But you’ve gotta stop acting like I’m gonna vanish the second you blink. I’m not some dream you’re gonna wake up from, angel.”

Your lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. Your hands trembled slightly in your lap as you shifted a bit, averting your gaze.

“I get it,” Jinx continued, her voice steadier now.

“You’ve been alone for a long time… and you’re scared. But this? This isn’t how it works.” She looked at you, even if you couldn’t see it - she couldn’t help the way her expression was softening even further.

“You don’t gotta hold me so tight to keep me around. I’m not going anywhere without a reason.”

You nodded faintly as your eyes returned to look her in the eyes, even with how uncomfortable it was.

But the look in YOUR eyes told Jinx that the message hadn’t fully landed.

But the real breaking point of this entire thing?

God, how did that even start again..

It was a couple days later when Jinx decided to venture off alone, desperate for some time to herself. She’d left early, without telling you where she was going.

And by the time she returned hours later?

She found you in a state of panic, your eyes wide and frantic.

When you noticed her, you immediately rushed over to her and gripped her shoulders, checking her to see if she had any injuries or anything out of the ordinary.

“Where were you?!” You demanded, your voice quivering with equal parts anger and desperation.

Jinx blinked, caught off guard at your sudden harsh tone.

“What’s your deal? I just went for a walk.”

“You didn’t say anything! You were gone—I didn’t know if something happened to you!” Your voice cracked, your usual calm composure slipping entirely. It’s like you were entirely different..

You are different however, aren’t you?

“I told you, I can’t lose you!”

Jinx’s temper finally flared at those last words you spoke, scoffing in response.

“Lose me?! I’m not some possession you can just keep tabs on all day!” Her voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife.

“I can’t breathe with you around all the time! You say you care about me, but this isn’t care—it’s control!”

The words hit you like a physical blow. Bleeding out right in the pouring cold rain as it had once before.

You took a step back, tears already streaming down your face as you stared at her, arms wrapping yourself as a failed attempt to make yourself feel comforted.

“I’m sorry!” you choked out, your voice broken.

“I just… I can’t lose you! You’re all I have, Jinx. You don’t understand, you’re everything to me! You changed everything for me!”

Jinx faltered, caught between anger and guilt. Your desperation was raw, real, and heartbreaking.

But Jinx couldn’t ignore how suffocating it had become.

“This isn’t healthy,” Jinx said, quieter now but firm.

“You can’t live like this. And you can’t make me the only thing you’ve got.”

You almost instantly crumpled under the weight of Jinx’s words, retreating into yourself as you sobbed quietly. Jinx watched you, torn between frustration and empathy, unsure of how to fix what had shattered between the two of you you.

“..I’m sorry.”

And with that, you immediately rushed out of the palace from the door that Jinx had walked in from, never stopping for a second as she called out for you. You ran for as long as you could, never stopping for a second until you had collapsed to the ground from how long you had ran.

For as small as this island may seem, you’re somewhat shocked at how big it seemed as you ran through the forest, feet aching.

Eventually, you settled on resting on the forest floor, refusing to return to the palace.

Who would want to be there with a monster such as yourself?

Maybe the gods should just keep you locked up in a cage, where you could never harm anyone ever again.

In the days that followed, your absence was palpable. You withdrew entirely from being a part of Jinx’s life, ashamed of your own behavior and terrified that you’d ruined everything. You refused to eat, refused to even sleep some nights. Even with how tempting the idea of returning back to the palace seemed, you restrained yourself - reminded of what had happened days prior.

And so you remained on the island, simply lingering around anywhere where Jinx couldn’t find you (for the most part).

She’d seen your hair a few times, but when she had called out for you once more? You vanished.

As if you were never there to begin with.

Jinx couldn’t shake the memory of your desperation. She knew what loneliness felt like: what it meant to cling to something, anything, to keep yourself from drowning.

It’s because of that you’d become like this..

You were so kind, so calm and caring before. But this corruption had already sunk its claws into you, forcing you to anxiety and insecurity.

And eventually, Jinx sought you out.

She found you sitting alone at the edge of the beach, staring out at the endless horizon with your knees close to your chest.

Jinx sat beside you, the silence stretching between you both.

“Come to berate me?” You muttered, voice tired and wavering.

“What?”

“You’re justified for doing so.. I just… I don’t even know anymore. I can’t even apologize normally anymore because of these stupid feelings.” You buried your face into your knees, tears threatening to form within the corners of your eyes.

“I’m so sorry. You never deserved that, and yet I did it anyway. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a normal being, haven’t I? Being banished here, no human interaction for so long..” Jinx stared at you for a long moment before sighing, averting her gaze.

And then, she spoke.

“Y’know, it doesn’t have to be like this.”

You didn’t respond, but Jinx pressed on.

“You’re more than just… whatever you think you are to me. You’ve got this place, this life as a goddess. You don’t need to hang everything on me.”

You raised your head and turned it head slightly, your eyes red and tired.

“But what if you leave?..”

Jinx let out a small, almost bitter laugh.

“Yeah, well… you ain’t gettin’ rid of me that easy.” She nudged tour shoulder gently, her tone softening.

“But you gotta trust me. And more than that, you gotta trust yourself. You’re stronger than you think, trinket. You don’t need to hold me so tight to know I’m here.”

You didn’t reply right away, but something in your core shifted. It wasn’t immediate, and it wouldn’t be easy, but it was a start.

That feeling of hope once more.

Hope that you’d felt with her alone once again.

For both of you.

The rain pattered lightly against the palace windows, the warm air inside a comforting contrast to the storm outside. You moved through the halls, a plate of Jinx's favorite meal in your hands. Your expression was bright, softened by the anticipation of Jinx's reaction. You both had gotten on better terms once more, figuring out what to do so it couldn’t get so bad.

Of course, you still had a few issues to work through still.. but you were willing to do so for her!

"Pixie!" You called out with a cheerful lilt, your voice echoing down the corridor as you finally made it to the bluette’s room.

No response.

Your smile faltered slightly, but you continued forward nonetheless, pushing open the door to her room. You could see that Jinx was hunched over her desk, her posture stiff as she fidgeted with some new contraption she was working on. You felt your smile return, feeling more calm by understanding that she was busy and not ignoring purposefully.

You know she has quite the tendency to get lost within her work, focusing entirely on it and NOTHING else!

Quickly, you cleared your throat and approached the woman.

"Pixie? Are you alright? I brought you some food—"

"Get out."

The words were sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. You almost immediately froze in place, blinking in disbelief at the sudden harsh tone.

"Pardon?.." You asked softly, your voice tinged with more confusion than anything.

Jinx turned to face you, her eyes wild, her voice louder now.

“I said, get OUT! Are you deaf?!"

Your hands trembled at how she spoke to you, confused and concerned of what was going on. Carefully, you set the plate down on a nearby table before immediately returning your attention to the woman, determined to figure out what was causing all of this.

"Pixie… What's going on? Why are you acting—“

Before you could even finish, Jinx’s hand lashed out. The slap was swift and cold, and the worse part? She slapped you with what you KNEW was the hand with that metal finger of hers. The stinging against your cheek felt like it was burning, and the sound echoed in the room, followed by a silence so deafening it felt like everything just stopped in time.

You just stood there, stunned, one hand slowly rising to touch the tender skin of your cheek. Your wide eyes locked onto Jinx, who looked equally horrified, as though she couldn’t believe what she’d just done to you.

Your lips parted to speak, but no words came. And so instead, you turned on your heel and walked out, the door closing behind you with a soft click.

The days that followed were heavy with unspoken words. Jinx and you had barely exchanged a GLANCE since the incident, hell - barely even being in the same room together!! Jinx claimed she didn’t remember saying those things, but as for you… you weren’t sure anymore. Perhaps it was all part of the gods’ plan; to drive a wedge between you two, to make you suffer, as they always had.

So when they came to you in the middle of the night as you were at the beach, coming to tell you the most devastating news of your life. You haven’t slept all night after hearing them either..

And so now you’re here at the beach once more, your back against a jagged rock, your feet brushing the cold stone path. In your hand, you twirled a blue flower, its delicate petals soft and fresh. You sighed, your chest tightening as you heard the faint clinking of metal tools nearby.

Peeking out from behind the rock, you saw Jinx tinkering with another bomb. The sight made your heart ache. Her hands moved deftly, but there was a tension in her posture, a stiffness that reminded you of that very day.

You stood, clutching the flower tightly to gather the courage before you made your way toward Jinx. The sound of your footsteps were nearly drowned out by the rhythmic crashing of the waves.

“Someone arrived today,” you said with a blank tone, standing a little to Jinx’s right.

Jinx froze, her hands pausing mid-motion. You quickly continued.

“They said they’re taking you away… ‘that you’re not mine to save’.” You stepped closer, your voice trembling ever so slightly as you spoke.

“And soon I won’t get to see your face.”

With a delicate carefulness, you placed the blue flower behind Jinx’s ear, your fingers brushing against her hair as though you were handling the most fragile piece of glass in the world.

“So I came by to say: You’re unlike anyone I have ever known.” Her hand lingered near Jinx’s shoulder for a moment longer than needed, before pulling away.

“Because you’re all I’ve ever known.”

Tears brimmed in your eyes as you took a step back, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“The ones before you refused to tell me anything, refused to trust me. I knew nothing but their faces.” You elaborated, taking a deep breath afterwards.

“And if I pushed you, or if I came on too strong at any time, or if I ambushed you… for that, I’ll say I was wrong.” Your voice cracked, though you continued.

“And if you hate me..” the words came out like poison, bitter and sharp as the taste lingered on your tongue, tears threatening to spill.

“..then I am sorry for that, I truly am. But I’m not sorry for loving you.”

“Trinket..” Jinx’s voice was quiet, almost just that of a whisper, but you cut her off with a raised hand.

“Let me speak!” You cried out, raising your voice.

“I spent my whole life here! I was cast away when I was young. Alone for a hundred years! I had no friends but the sky and sun!” Your voice cracked as memories of your past flooded her mind. The years you spent alone, your freedom being taken away from you, watching all of your kind being murdered - your own father killed before you. Being forced to even participate in a war you never wished to..

“So when you washed ashore… I thought for sure that you were my dream come true. I thought I knew…” You paused, thinking about your next words.

“I don’t even know anymore.. that you’d like me? But I guess I didn’t, did I? That I was too foolish to think that? Huh?”

You turned sharply, your tone cold.

“So I guess this is goodbye, Jinx. I hope you’re happy… after all, you’ll never see me again.”

You began to walk away, tears streaming down your cheeks. You can’t watch her being taken away. As much as she hurt you, you just can’t.

“Trinket, wait!” Jinx’s voice was doused with desperation — but just as Jinx reaches where you had been moments ago, you were gone. Fading into some sort of mist like an unreachable dream.

The ocean wind whips around her, carrying the faint echoes of your words, reminiscing around as if to taunt her further about the crushing reality that is her future.

And she stands there, not knowing what to do.

[milswrites]

Hobbies Part 8.

~Azriel X Reader~

Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?

Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader

Series masterlist

Warnings: you know the drill - angst

Sometimes one of the hardest things to do when you’ve been hurt is to carry on living.

Y/N was no stranger to sadness. Growing up an orphan is difficult enough as it is, growing up a female orphan means your life is destined to fail.

But Y/N had always had a different outlook on life. She had always been an optimist. Positive that she would break the cycle and forge a place for herself in the world, even if she had been born into an unforgiving one.

And she had. Her ability to charm and influence people with her warming smile and kind nature had enabled her to climb her way up and into society. She worked well enough to have had her gentle disposition noticed by Helion who was more than willing to welcome her into his court.

Y/N had built herself a great life, one worth being proud of, yet now she found it crumbling around her. It’s hard to imagine that one person who had been in her life for such a short amount of time could change the trajectory of it forever. But Azriel had.

Y/N was simply the fool for allowing it to happen, knowing that he would eventually one day have to leave and return to his own life. Which he was more than happy to do without so much as a goodbye, not even leaving behind a damn letter.

Y/N had found that the well from which her tears flowed from had run dry. She refused to allow herself to mourn what could have been. If he hadn’t have been gracious enough to bid her the goodbye she deserved then he clearly wasn’t the man she thought he was. She would not allow herself to waste away over a man who had no interest in her.

So Y/N did what she knew best, survived. Once she had escaped from the meeting with Helion she had retreated home, overwhelmed by her emotions as sobs wracked her body. The tears from the shock of the shadowsinger’s unexpected departure eventually subsided and with swollen eyes she began to pack for her next job.

The easy option would have been to beg Helion for some time off work while she recovered from the shock of the events that had unfolded. But her broken heart willed her to move and take action. To leave to the rural villages that Helion had said required the attention of the Court. A break would be good for her, an opportunity to clear her mind and do what she was good at. Making people happy. Even if she wasn’t feeling it herself.

With no time to waste, Y/N packed her bags for the long trip, eager to leave when dawn made its appearance. She could at least be thankful for her lack of sleep the night before which was now taking its toll on her body, allowing her to drift off into a fitful sleep rather than mercilessly letting her stay awake with her thoughts. Her dreams, a cacophony of wings and shadows.

When morning finally arrived she was gone. Leaving her emotions and problems behind as she slipped on the smile she had become so accustomed to wearing.

~~~~~

Azriel had woken in his bed. Cassian must have brought him here last night, his last memory of the previous day had been his brother hugging him in Elain’s garden.

The knowledge that Y/N was gone weighed heavy on his chest, but what hurt more were the words of her neighbour who had recalled the state Y/N had been in. The state she was in because of Azriel who had failed to be there for her. Who had left her waiting.

He knew he had failed her. Azriel could try blame Rhysand for whisking him away all he liked, but the truth was that he should have returned to the Day Court as soon as his brother had winnowed him away. He had been too late to react.

Azriel was a coward. He had dedicated most of his life to a woman he would never have and then spent the past few months pining after another that he wasn’t allowed to have. And yet when the most perfect being alive had crashed into his life with no strings or rules attached, just an instant overwhelming attraction between them, he had blown it.

He had done what he had sworn not to do and torn away Y/N’s cauldron-blessed smile and led only pain in its wake.

Upon being home at last, Azriel discovered that his life here was awfully dull. Had it always been this way? The same monotonous routine day in and day out. Train, work, eat, sleep and repeat. He longed for something to do to fill his time and someone to enjoy it with. There being only one person who he wished could fill the void that had grown in the days since he had returned to the Night Court. The one person who he had no idea where in Pythian they were.

In a desperate attempt to find Y/N, Azriel spent most of his time eagerly waiting for his shadows return. His shadows which he had sent to scour the Day Court for Y/N. He wasn’t sure whether it was their inability to find her, or some disgust at what their master had done to her, but every night they returned with no news of Y/N or her whereabouts.

So Azriel continued living. A stranger in his own body as he continued to live the life he once had, not the one that he was allowed a taste of before it was ripped away from him.

He attempted to keep himself busy, to find something in this Court that brought him the joy he had felt in the past few weeks with Y/N. The rest of the inner circle were stunned to find Azriel baking in the kitchen one morning, seething in anger at his poor excuse of a cake. Not wanting to further upset the male who had already been so down, Cassian forced himself to eat the cake with an overly enthusiastic grin on his face, hiding his gagging which had resulted from the revolting texture. His bad acting didn’t even crack a smile on the shadowsinger’s face much to the General’s disappointment.

Azriel knew his friends were concerned about him, especially after his breakdown in the garden. They were all aware it was due to this mystery woman that Azriel had met during his time in Day, however, Azriel refused to share anything about her and they couldn’t understand why.

It took several days for Cassian to realise Azriel wasn’t going to open up about it, that he would tell his brothers about her if and when he wanted to. Grateful for his friend, Azriel welcomed Cassian’s silent and unquestioning company whenever he tried something new. It wasn’t Y/N and it didn’t heal his aching heart, but the knowledge of his brother being there for him was enough for Azriel to get by. One day at a time.

Two weeks had passed since Azriel’s not so joyous return to the Night Court. He had adjusted to being back in his home but the Y/N sized hole in his heart still existed. He wasn’t surprised the pain was still present, Y/N was his once in a lifetime type of love and Azriel had missed his opportunity.

He was sulking in the kitchen when Rhysand tentatively approached him. The same way he has been doing since his return, as if he expected Azriel to disappear once more only to never return. “Oh Az! There you are I’ve been looking for you” He said upon his approach, “Helion’s sent over a few of your things I must have missed.”

“You didn’t miss anything though?” Azriel frowned at Rhys’s words, wondering what Helion could have given Rhysand seeing as all his belongings had been brought back from Day court upon his arrival.

“Oh? Well they’re in your room if you want to check, I can always send them back to him if they’re not yours” his brother replied shrugging his shoulders as he exited the kitchen.

Curious, Azriel readily made his way to his bedroom, entering to see two items he didn’t recognise on his bed. A painting and a gift wrapped in black and tied neatly with a velvet bow. He approached his bed, heart rate increasing and tears welling in his eyes as the image painted on the canvas came into focus.

An inky black sky, littered with stars that Azriel could have sworn were twinkling, glowing warmly on the page like a lit candle. The beautiful skyline below of the Court he had come to care for, because it was the home of the woman he loved. He needn’t ask who painted this picture, the image a perfect copy of the same scene that was burned into his memory. A token from the best night of his life. With shaky hands, Azriel lifted the painting to appreciate it in all its glory. Scared to remove his eyes from the piece, he kept them locked onto the delicate strokes as if he stared at it long enough he’d be able to crawl through the canvas and escape back to that night. That he’d be given a chance to fix what had been broken.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat on his bed and admired the painting, but soon his attention was drawn to the wrapped gift which seemed to tug at his chest, calling him to it.

Tremor still present in his hands, he delicately pulled apart the bow and slowly opened the wrapping as if afraid to tear it. The dark paper fell away to reveal a cobalt blue tunic, decorated with silver thread that poured over the piece like liquid moonlight. A matching pair, Y/N’s dress and a tunic. His tunic.

Azriel took the time to run his scarred fingers over each whirl of thread that constructed the familiar lines of an Illyrian tattoo, making sure not to miss a single stitch out of fear of not showing the item the respect it deserves.

Once this task was complete he sped to the mirror in his room, stripping himself of his old black shirt and pulling on the tunic. Hands running down the soft material as he appreciated the way it looked on him, the way it was made for his body.

That same strange tug in his chest panged as he observed himself in the mirror. Not wanting to ignore its presence, or because he couldn’t control the need to interact with the strange sensation, he tugged at his chest as if pulling on a long thread.

Pulling and pulling until something inside of him finally released and it felt like his heart had burst open. His world exploded into violent shades of pinks, yellows and blues, the garish colours that he associated with Y/N. Azriel felt as though his senses had come to life for the first time, the vanilla scent of Y/N that emanated from the tunic was driving him wild.

Azriel had spent centuries longing for a mate, a need which had only grown greater when his brothers had found theirs. And now it had clicked for him too. The cauldron had tied him to the ethereal beam of light in his life. His beautiful smiling Y/N. She was his. His mate.

Azriel looked back to his now panting form in the mirror and crazed, frenzied eyes stared right back at him. He knew what needed to be done. Where he needed to go. And so Azriel left to go and find his mate.

Part 9

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: Hope I’m starting to make up for all the tears I caused 😭

Taglist:

@thelov3lybookworm @minnieoo @going-through-shit @iluvyewman-blog @laughterafter @amysangel @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @justvibbinghere @honeybeeboobaa @willowpains @tele86 @mysticalfuncollectorus @mybestfriendmademe @starryhiraeth @gorlillaglue25 @moonlwghts @darling006 @anuttellaa @serendipityx150 @xxxalicerogersxx @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @naturakaashi @nyx-the-alien @lostinpages13 @namelesssav @dreamlandreader @fightmedraco @maxmouse001

[ponderingmoonlight]

Quiet mornings with Shigure Sohma

Pairing: Shigure x reader

Word Count: 1,4k

Synopsis: While you're surrounded by mess and trouble all day, you can't help but enjoy those mornings with none other than Shigure.

Warnings: the fic no one asked for, I fell for fruits basket so hard that you guys are forced to read my trash now hehe, fluff over fluff

The weather outside is soft today. Not warm, not cold, just enough of something in-between to make the morning feel cozy. You’re sitting cross-legged on the floor like you always do, sunlight pooling across your lap, your hands holding a ceramic mug of tea. The house feels quiet with all the kids gone, without Tohru’s soft voice and the boys fighting over nonsense. But that peace, you know, is an illusion. Or, at the very least, a temporary state.

Because Shigure Soma is never quiet for long.

Right on cue, there’s a shuffle of feet against the floorboards, and then his voice - a melodious hum that could belong to someone much less chaotic.

“My darling,” he calls, the sing-song lilt of his tone already filled with teasing.

“How rude of you to start your morning without me. My feelings are positively shattered!”

You tilt your head just enough to see him standing in the doorway, one hand pressed theatrically to his chest as though wounded. His yukata is draped carelessly over his shoulders, the belt knotted loosely at his waist. His hair is a little messy, and he hasn’t yet shaved the faint stubble on his jaw. But the sight of him - rumpled, relaxed, utterly himself -makes warmth bloom in your chest anyway.

“Shigure,” you say with an exasperated smile, “it’s past ten. I’m not going to wait forever for you to wake up.”

He gasps as though you’ve just insulted his ancestors.

“Ah, how cold-hearted my sweet muse is! If you loved me, surely you’d have brought me breakfast in bed-”

“I made tea,” you interrupt, raising your mug pointedly.

“And there’s toast in the kitchen. If you want anything else, you’re on your own.”

He pouts, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s not offended in the slightest. He never is, really. Shigure’s ego might be gigantic, but it’s not fragile. If anything, he seems to flourish on your chit-chat, your little refusals lightening up his mood even more. It’s a dance the two of you have perfected, a rhythm of soft blows and exaggerated reactions that always ends in laughter.

Shigure pads across the room and lowers himself to sit beside you, far closer than necessary. You feel the brush of his knee against yours, the gentle press of his arm as he leans in, peering at your face with open curiosity.

“And what, pray tell, are you thinking about so deeply, hmm? You’ve got that faraway look again.”

His voice is quieter now, softer. You don’t miss the way his eyes linger on you, their usual playfulness tempered by something more genuine.

You hesitate, caught off-guard.

“I’m not… really thinking about anything,” you reply, though it’s not entirely true.

There’s always something brewing in your mind: a stray memory, a half-formed plan, the ever-present hum of life’s what-ifs. How are you supposed to enjoy the present with the past and future weighing down on you this heavily? But explaining those things feels impossible, so you simply shrug.

“Just enjoying the quiet, I guess.”

Shigure hums thoughtfully, tilting his head as if to examine you from a different angle. His dark eyes are warm, patient, even as his lips twitch with the beginnings of another grin.

“Ah, yes. You’ve been enchanted by my humble house. It’s no wonder you’ve fallen for me so completely.”

You roll your eyes while taking a brief look at the destroyed shoji, don’t bother moving away when he rests his head against your shoulder. His hair tickles your cheek, and you can smell the faint trace of his shampoo. Definitely something light and floral. Did he use yours again?

“You’re insufferable,” you murmur, but there’s no real bite in your words.

Your free hand comes up almost instinctively to comb through his hair, smoothing out some of the more unruly strands. He hums again, this time in obvious ease.

“You’re so good to me. “Really, I don’t deserve such a kind, gentle soul.”

You snort, flicking his ear lightly.

“That’s the first truthful thing you’ve said all morning.”

Shigure doesn’t respond right away, but you feel him shift, his weight settling more fully against your side. It’s a little unbalanced, but you don’t mind. His presence is warm, comforting against the sometimes harsh reality. And though he’s quiet now, you can sense the wheels turning in his head, the way his mind is always spinning with something - mischief, poetry, or the occasional genuine thought he’ll tuck away for safekeeping.

It’s in moments like this that you’re reminded of the duality of Shigure Sohma. He’s a mystery wrapped in jokes and half-truths, a man who wears his whimsy like armor but lets it slip when he’s close enough to trust. And though he can be infuriating, there’s a softness to him as well, a tenderness that he rarely shows but always carries.

“I like this,” he comments suddenly, his voice low enough that you almost miss it.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t look at you, but you can feel the weight of his words settle in the space between you.

“Like what?” you ask quietly.

“This.”

He gestures vaguely, his hand brushing yours where it rests on the floor.

“The mornings with you. The quiet. The way you let me bother you without pushing me away.”

There’s a smile in his tone while his breath caresses your skin gently, but it’s faint, almost self-conscious.

You blink, taken aback. Shigure is rarely so direct, so open. When was the last time he talked this seriously with you, let alone with his voice this muted? You don’t quite know what to say, but you feel something shift in your chest, a fluttering warmth, soft and fragile.

“I like it too,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Even when you’re being a nuisance.”

That earns you a chuckle, low and rich. Shigure lifts his head to look at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that makes him look far younger, far happier. He doesn’t say anything, but his gaze lingers, warm and steady, as though committing you to memory.

For a moment, the two of you simply sit there, the world fading into the background. The sunlight shifts, casting patterns across the floorboards, and the faint scent of tea and spring air fills the room. It’s the kind of moment that feels fragile, like it could shatter if you so much as breathe too loudly. You can’t help but allow your eyes to rest for a moment, to take in the calmness of the moment.

But then Shigure sighs dramatically, breaking the spell.

“Ah, I suppose I’ll have to go hunt for food if I want to survive this cruel, neglectful treatment.”

You laugh, the sound light and unrestrained.

“There’s toast in the kitchen. You’re so dramatic”, you remind him again, shaking your head.

“And yet you adore me,” he remarks, pushing himself to his feet with exaggerated effort.

He stretches, his yukata slipping slightly from one shoulder, and you catch the briefest glimpse of his collarbone before he adjusts it. A man looking this good with that cheeky mouth…How is your stay here supposed to end in a good way?

“Maybe I do,” you reply without thinking.

The words slip out way too easily, carried by the warmth in your chest and the sight in front of you.

Shigure freezes, his hand halfway to his hair. For a moment, you think you’ve gone too far, that you’ve somehow crossed an invisible line. Does he feel uncomfortable, insulted even? But then he turns, his expression unreadable, and you feel your breath catch.

“Careful, my dear,” he murmurs, his voice low and almost teasing.

There’s a flicker of something else in his eyes. something softer, more vulnerable. Something you’ve never caught before in his gaze. For a moment, time seems to stand still, your breath gets stuck in your throat.

“I might just take you seriously.”

You hold his gaze, the words lingering in the air between you. And though your heart is racing, you manage a small, steady smile.

“Maybe you should.”

[milkycarnations]

Hear me out Bloody Painter gets jealous and shows reader who they belong to👀

I'm sorry I kind of suck at ideas this is just what I'm thinking

Ooomph, no I quite like this one though. Don't come into my ask box apologizing for Helen asks. Helen is always welcome. Divider cafekitsune.

Let Me Get What I Want | Helen x afab!reader | 896 words

one-shot masterlist | mdni | cw: scarification as a display of devotion, knifeplay, obvious heavy trigger warning for anyone who struggles with self-harm, sadomasochism, minor body worship, he/him pronouns for Helen this time, not super nsfw simply because I don't see Helen as much of a jealous/hate-fuck type of person. I'd been trying for a few weeks but I just wasn't sure where to take it sexually!

Helen sighed. It was a strange sound to fall past his lips - something he'd only hear perhaps when in the throes of pleasure - but today, Helen sighed just from the thought of you. It wasn't like craving you was bizarre, far from it. Helen thought about you all of the time. Hour after hour, day by day, months on months, you plagued Helen's thoughts. He couldn't help but think what a sweet, little plague you were - working your way in and taking him over. You consumed him.

So today, just like most days, Helen cleaned the hairs of his paintbrushes by the workroom sink, the colors bleeding out into a muddy brown mess. As he worked the bristles against the cloth towel, he envisioned the appearance of your flesh. He thought about your hair follicles and the pores on your skin. Helen thought, was it really possible to adore someone so much - right down to the cracks on their heels and the blemishes on their cheeks? Why did that have to be such an unwelcome concept?

Under Helen's firm touch, the paintbrush frayed and shed strands of horsehair. His pale and slender hands paused in place.

No, it was far more than a sigh. Helen was terribly jealous. The paintbrush fell from his hand with a clank. Twisting his torso, he glanced back at his recent portrait. There was a fiery warmth in Helen's face as he looked at it. You were such a radiant thing. The fact that you hadn't sent so much as a glance his way this evening was maddening.

He was now staring down the painting, observing the contours of your body and the light bruise he'd put on your breast, simply a smear of pigment. He needed assurance - reassurance that you were his. So later that night, he prophesized an idea.

"Are you familiar with scarification?" he'd ask randomly, suddenly as you lazed against the couch - draped against it like a Greek statue. Whether you knew of it or not wasn't exactly of importance. Rather, all Helen cared about was whether or not you agreed.

"Etching, branding, scaring," they continued, "that sort of thing. It's beautiful, isn't it?"

You thought about it deeply - for the first time in perhaps, ever. Scarification.

He added, "Do you think, maybe, I could do that to you. Etch my art into your skin."

"I'd have to think about it." you'd respond. Scarification, like a tattoo, but a different flavor of commitment. If the scaring took well, it'd be a part of you forever. You had no doubt that whatever Helen had in store would be exquisite, but it still was a lot to take in.

Helen wouldn't bring it up for another few weeks at least, letting it fester and stew in your mind as you went about your work and daily tasks. It nagged in the back of your mind for quite a while. You asked Helen for a mockup.

"Could I just see what you were thinking?" you'd ask, imagining the stencils tattoo artists would place upon their clients. Maybe - if you just saw what he had in mind - it'd be easier to agree. So that evening, as you laid spread over the mattress, Helen free-handed over your hip, penciling in intricate designs around the curves of your body in washable marker. After he'd finished, you stood in front of the full-length mirror in your bedroom with an intent curiosity.

"It looks... beautiful."

Even through simple lines, Helen's artistry shined through. They'd captured everything about you, the shapes complimenting your body wonderfully at the same time - trailing from your side, down the swell of your hip and stopping just above your knee.

"I'd be honored if you accepted." he added. His excitement was evident in the subtle shifting of his feet, his hands subconsciously smoothing out the fabric of his button-up.

When the moment finally came, you laid against the table awkwardly, feeling a bit more uncomfortable than usual. Once more, Helen had stenciled a design into your skin - this time with a more permanent marker.

"It's okay if you want a break. Just tell me." Helen said, pulling a sharp exacto-knife from a rolling cart. You took in a deep breath as you anticipated the pain. You'd already taken some pain meds, just to ease your mind, but you knew it'd still hurt tremendously. That initial breath turned shaky as the blade made contact with your skin. It was a sharp, biting pain - but it wasn't anything you hadn't felt before with Helen. There were already quite a few scars on your back. You let Helen take his time as he carved out chunks of skin to make the most beautiful mural.

"Does it hurt, dove?" the words came soft - a loving message of reassurance. You nodded your head. It did.

"It's almost finished, my love. Don't worry." he added, pushing the blade just over your hip bone.

He took great care of it once he'd finished - cleaning the wounds, bandaging it well, and placing sweet, gentle kisses over your body. He was ecstatic. It was taking quite a while to heal, but he was psyched to paint you with the new addition. You were his muse - the thing he'd loved to paint and draw the most, and now you'd carry his art on your skin for the rest of your life.

[abyssal-werewolf]

Fluid kintypes - identity doesn't need to be static

I used to be a wolf, once. Not in a past-life sense, but in a therian sense - I was a wolf therian and then I wasn't. Sounds weird to you? I'm not surprised!

Something that I have repeatedly been told by other therians and otherkin is "you are what you are and if you find out you are something else - well, then you never were the first thing at all." Especially when I joined the community several years ago, I saw this statement everywhere. But let me tell you: it's not true. I had several different kintypes over the years (side note: we are plural and for the sake of this post I am simplifying some internal structure things. if you want the complicated details, feel free to ask! /gen), started as a wolf therian, then I was a cryptid, a dinosaur, a dragon and some kind of monster. Now I am Khhanivore (from Love, Death and Robots) and Mewtu (from Pokemon, Mewtu is the German spelling) - and a raptor kintype is coming back. (I am also a werewolf, but that's not a kintype, that's just Purely Me And My Whole Essence)

"Okay Istasha, but isn't that just questioning or maybe flickertypes?", you might ask. Fair point, but no.

I honestly never really questioned my kintypes - if I truly question something, it turns out to either be a hearttype or Nothing at All. As for kintypes, I just know - all of us just know what we are, it's like chilling and one day, suddenly, one of us is like "oh, I am a horse. alright, carry on" and that's it. Our kintypes stay with us for several months at least, theoretically they could stay forever but tend to change along the way - which brings me to the next point. They aren't flickertypes either. We only really get fictionflickers and sometimes animalflickers and those are extremely short and always tied to media we are currently consuming - they feel, technically, like kintypes to me. For example, if I watch a lot of Supernatural, I sometimes get an intense feeling of belonging there, of being a non-canon character, of being part of the story, etc. I am this non-canon character in that moment, I might even get pseudo-memories or shifts, but as soon as I don't engage with that show too much again, it instantly fades.

Our kintypes don't work like that. Take my re-emerging dinosaur kintype as an example. I was walking somewhere a few days ago and suddenly had a pahntom sensation in my legs and feet and in the same moment I knew "ah shit, new kintype". I gave it a day because maaayyybe it's nothing? But deep down I already knew what was going on, so I have an Utahraptor kintype now. I am this. I identify as this through and through and it feels like I've always been this way. But it wasn't - a week ago I wasn't a dinosaur and now I am. I did not choose it, I did not engage with any dinosaur media at all, it just happened.

My kintypes have always been changing and trust me when I say I had a complete identity crisis when my wolf kintype first went away. But over the years Ive learned to accepot it - my identy is not static, it never was and it never will be and that's okay!

It doesn't make my kintypes less important or less real and it also doesn't mean I never was a wolf. I was. And then I wasn't.

I honestly think it is so, so damaging to still have this "kintypes are static"-sentient floating around in the community, because that's simply not true for all of us. For me, it honestly even makes more sense this way. Our brain has always been unstable, I lacked a true identity for so long. We grew up with untreated BPD andf although the symptoms are 95% under my control now (read: it's in remission), our brain still has a ton of habits from that time, like clinging onto different things to try and form an identity, to try and fill the void where a person should be. And the fact that the void is filled now, that I finally am enough of a person to fill it, this habit never changed. Our brain still randomly grabs things and makes them one of us, leading to fluid kintypes.

Let me end this with saying: being wrong about a kintype is fine. Figuring out you are X instaed of Y and never were Y is fine. But it is also fine to be X today and Y tomorrow.

I think I've said this before but I'll say it again: we, as a community, need to take our identities less and more serious at the same time. Let's stop the gatekeeping and policing others, let's stop overanalyzing ourselves so much. Let's stop looking for rules and asking "is it possible to be this?" over and over again - because the answer is yes. There are literally no rules as to how, why and what you can be. In order to be otherkin you need to do exactly one thing: identify as The Thing in question. Nothing else. On the other hand, we need to kindly educate those who confuse identify as and identify with, we need to kindly educate young therians who "choose their theriotypes", we need to make sure we are not watered down to being "a fun thing you can do".

I sometimes feel like the focus and effort of this community is in good faith but in the wrong place - static kintypes is one of them.

There are no limits. Be who you are today and if you are something else tomorrow, be that then. <3

[sunarots]

BETTER THAN REVENGE! ━━━ tooru oikawa & rintarou suna

23. illicit affairs ♡

Oikawa stands with his arm around Emiko's neck, the few drinks of alcohol he's had numbing him from the disgust of seeing you up on the stage. He's glad you're almost done. Having to watch you and Rintarou sing about him not just on live television, but also live in front of him with his new girlfriend by his side... The words that come out your mouth aren't missed, though. And he knows exactly what you're trying to do.

You'll be flushed when you return.

No. He never slept with Emiko, it's all lies. He couldn't come home flushed if he wasn't having sex. Coming home flushed from-

Tell yourself you can always stop.

He did stop! He told you before anything happened. He let you out of the relationship before he ended up making everything even worse. You're destroying his image, there's no way you think you can get away with this. No, not when she's still holding one of his hands. Her side is still pressed against him. She won't know. Ever. These lyrics are taken from back in high school when he...

It's born from just one single glance.

You're trying to warn Emiko. Tell her the truth. Ruin him. You can't let him have happiness with her? You can't let him find peace? So vengeful. Bitter. Evil-

They show their truth on single time. But they lie, and they lie, and they lie.

He never lied. You never asked. How can someone lie to another person about something when he wasn't asked about it. He simply...hid it from you. That's different! Completely different. You can't lie if they don't suspect anything. And you were completely oblivious both times he cheated! No, not both times. Just one time. One. He didn't cheat this time around like he did in high school. And you can't bring that up anymore! Time has passed! You're holding things against him from years ago. He has changed! He has!

Look at this idiotic fool that you made me.

Oikawa slumps. Has he changed? Did he really cheat on you? Make a fool out of you? Maybe Mattsun and Makki were right... He wasn't very considerate, was he? He'd begged you for forgiveness more times than he can count on one hand. And every time you forgave him. You believed him. Thought he could change. He never did. Maybe he couldn't. Is he destined to be like this forever? Never able to hold a healthy relationship? Always destroy every ounce of happiness he'll ever receive?

And you know damn well-

Oikawa Tooru will never know happiness like he could have with you.

-For you I would ruin myself, A million little times.

Emiko's hand vanished from its place in his hold. She steps away from him, eyes not on the band performing, hands not applauding like the rest. No, Emiko places them on her hips, tilts her head back and blinks the tears back into her eyes. She stands taller, peers down her nose at Oikawa.

"When did you break up with y/n?"

Oh. So she was paying attention. She's smart. Really smart.

Oikawa flicks his eyes up to you on the stage. You're on Rintarou's lap, looking into his eyes. Atsumu's knelt on the stage with his guitar still hung around his neck. He reaches for a cup being offered to him, laughing at something being said to him.

Emiko's fingers snap in front of his face, bringing him back to reality. People look at them. You look at them. "I said when did you break up with y/n?"

His lips part, tears coming to his eyes. He tries to stammer out a response.

For Emiko, that's enough. She raises a hand, strikes him across the face. She jabs a finger into his chest, starts spewing curses of his name.

You and Rin stare from the stage, your forehead rest against his. You cross one leg over the other, Rin’s hand going from between your waist and your thigh. Lightly caresses the skirt you wear. He holds his drumsticks in his free hand, taps the base lightly and repeatedly against his knee. A small force tugs against the corners of his lips despite so desperate to stay cool and collected.

He observes the party-goers, their horrified stares at the scene unfolded before them, the way they try to keep their conversations yet no one able to focus on anything but them. Takahashi, for once, doesn't try to step in. He goes from looking at Atsumu, to looking at Emiko, opening and closing his mouth. He stammers something out, Atsumu rising to his feet.

He takes a final look at the couple(?), leans in and says something to you and Rin. You uncross your legs, whisper something to the boys by you. Something flashes in Rin's eyes as he ushers you off his knee, gently smacks your ass with the drumsticks before spinning them around in his fingers. He waits for you to fix the guitar around your neck, Atsumu to get in position. With as much force as he can muster, Rin slams the stick against a cymbal.

Everything stops, and all eyes fall back on the band. They forget about Oikawa standing with Emiko. His hand placed on her shoulder, fingers lightly holding to the front in a desperate measure to get more time before

You.

Standing there, one hand holding the guitar and the other grasping the microphone stand. Smiling, apologising. The DJ isn't here yet, so we'll play a song? Fill some fucking time? Another chance to break him. Drag him down to the ground. No, lower. Every level below until he falls through the core, and out the other side. And all you do is laugh and apologise and play another stupid song of yours. All you do is play fucking songs. Who are these even for?

Oh. The stream of their performance. Had it ended? What could they hear? Did they hear? They would have seen you. Your pride, your smugness. Your- God, what is with you? Isn't this enough? Will you be happy with yourself after? God, they're lucky if he doesn't-

What? What could he do? You guys weren't doing anything illegal. Defamation? But it's true. You're not lying. None of it has been made up. Harassment? Perhaps. More reasonable, surely. Right?

Emiko's shoulder rips from his hold as you come to the end of that stupid song. She wipes at her face and struts over to you at the stage. Yes. Tell you to stop. Leave them alone. She believes him!

But if she really believed him, why would she collapse in on herself after whispering something in your ear? Why would she lean in for...a hug.

No, Oikawa Tooru's time may be up.

masterlist. previous | next

summary. as a world-famous singer, everyone knows everything about all of your relationships. namely, your renowned on-again/off-again relationship with one tooru oikawa. it’s hard not to when every song you write is about him. but no one truly knows all of the gory details of all your dirty breakups, except from the two of you. and after announcing in a drunken red-carpet interview that you never want to see his face again, everyone starts desperately searching for the truth behind your twisted relationship. and just when you think you can escape these rumours, in comes a job opportunity your band can’t turn down.

taglist (open!). @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @iaminyourfloors @rrosiitas @v3nusplanetofluv @draculauracullen @lollbecca @honeytwo @wakashudou @tojirin @makki0s @alexithemiyatic @aboutkiyoomi @hermaeusmorax @theepitomeofswag @qyoongi @esunarint @frootloopscos @kimigiri09 @sweetlyvibe @hhoneyhan @jlly1 @nizaii @mdmraz @gigiiiiislife @jpegarchives

[thequeenofsastiel]

I just realized that we've never actually seen Spike and Buffy hug. We've seen them kiss, we've seen them have sex. But never a hug. The closest was when they cuddled in 7x21.

Idk why that struck me so hard. I think it's just that there's something so loving and intimate about a hug. It indicates a fondness for the person you're hugging. I mean not always, sometimes people hug without feeling, but most of the time. Buffy hugged Riley and Angel. But never Spike. Not even when he got his soul back. There's something rather...sad about that to me. I'm not sure if "sad" is a good enough word. Maybe heartbreaking. So much love grew between them. I forever hate that Spike's response to Buffy's "I love you" was to say: "No, you don't. But thanks for saying it." Because I absolutely think she did. I guess I can see him reacting that way out of self-hatred, but it still bothers me. Maybe they thought it would be too cheesy for him to say it back, but I don't think so. He expressed his emotions for her in actions, and sometimes words, but when he was ensouled, he never once told her that he loved her(unless I'm forgetting something, which is possible but I doubt it given how many times I've watched that season). There could be many reasons for that. Perhaps his ensouled self couldn't bear to have her reject his love. Or he didn't want to subject her to his feelings. Or he felt like he didn't deserve her love, so there was no point in expressing his. Maybe he simply didn't want to make things awkward. Possibly it was a combination of some or all of those. I could be missing an option(feel free to weigh in).

Regardless of the reason, an ensouled Spike never told Buffy he loved her. So I think it would have been meaningful for him to say it back. And I'm sure James Marsters had the chops to manage to say it in a way entirely differently from the way soulless Spike said it. I think he could add an air of vulnerability to the words. A softness.

It just feels like a missed opportunity to me. I get why they(probably) didn't want to do it, but I think it could have worked.

ETA: Spike actually did tell Buffy he loved her in 7x21. Though he said it within the context of a speech telling her how amazing she is, without an expectation of her saying that she loved him back. It was a simple statement, like saying the sky is blue. It felt totally different from the way he said it in seasons 5-6. Which was exactly what I spent this whole post saying I wanted lol.

I still would have preferred him to say that he loved her back.

[flightlessangelwings]

His Strength

Din Djarin x fem!reader

Word count- 3.8k

Dialogue prompt- “ hey! get away from them! “ and “ don’t worry about me; are YOU okay? “ Action prompt- [ SACRIFICE ]: sender sacrifices themselves, either fatally or otherwise, in order to save the receiver’s life.

Warnings-s.mut (18+ ONLY!), fwb to lovers, protective!Din, bounty hunter reader, injury, brief violence, brief torture scene (not super descriptive and no needles or anything like that), light angst, happy ending, mutual pining, feelings, no use of y/n, ambiguous on where in the timeline it is but razor crest lives

Notes- We made it, this is the last of my Year of Protectiveness @yearofcreation2023! I actually had a different idea at first, but after some personally tragedy, I wanted to write something a little more angtsy. Don't worry tho it's still a happy ending and no major character death! Thanks so much to those who have supported this year theme endeavor with me!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so feel free to follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date!

~

When you first partnered with a Mandalorian bounty hunter in the guild, you never expected how much it would change your life. What started as a one time alliance for convenience turned into a partnership built on mutual respect for the other. And everything changed even more the day Mando came to you asking for help with a child he had taken in. He had told you what happened, and how he made the decision to save the child instead, and it awoke something within you that day. Even as he rescued the child from the Client, you stayed by his side and as the two of you traveled the galaxy, you felt the dynamic shift between you two.

It changed the Mandalorian that day too. From under the armor, he had always respected you, but seeing you with the child made him feel something he had never felt before. He found that his gaze lingered on you when you weren’t looking, and he found himself wondering what life would be like if you and the child could stay with him forever… as a family. 

Neither of you were sure when it happened. You were just partners one moment, and the next, became something more. There was never a whisper of it spoken out loud, though, just both of you knew something shifted. Even if it was simply for release, it changed everything between you two. He even murmured his real name to you in the throws of passion- a gift you treasured and kept safe in your heart. 

*

Sweat lined your brow as you writhed beneath the Mandalorian. His low grunts echoed from under his helmet while you bit your lip to stifle your moans. Din, as always, never took anything off, only freed his cock. You stayed mostly covered as well, something you wondered if he did to keep things feeling leveled, as if he didn’t want to feel like he was overpowering you. Only your bottoms came off, and even then they stayed around your ankles.

It started fast, heated, and fiery. The first time you and Din slept together was quick, as if you were both concerned with the moment running away from you. He just pushed your pants down enough and took you against the wall. And even with the rush, it was still a more intimate connection you had ever felt in your life. You couldn’t tell at the time, but Din felt the same way.

Over time, it moved from the wall to Din’s bunk, and from hot and hurried to slow and sensual. Din at times handled you with sure care that you wondered if he thought you would break. The way he caressed every inch of you made your heart flutter in your chest as you looked at him with a glazed over expression. Neither of you were sure when exactly it happened, but something changed as the two of you came together time and time again.

You felt it with every thrust of his cock. Though you never saw his face, you felt the emotions behind his movements and his touch. You looked into the darkness of his vizor, locking eyes with him behind it. A louder moan escaped your lips as he rocked into you again, filling you to the brim.

“Din…” you murmured as you ran your hands across his chest.

“I’ve got you,” he groaned in a low tone that went right to your core.

You whimpered at the care that lined his voice. Moving before you could second guess yourself, you let go of his broad shoulders and reached down for your own top. You grabbed and pulled it over yourself in one swift movement, exposing more of your body to Din.

He paused as his helmet nodded up and down as he soaked in the sight of your bare chest, “You’re beautiful,” he groaned as his hands wandered across your breasts. 

Mirroring your action, Din surprised you by quickly removing his gloves so that he could touch your bare skin. Both of you gasped when his large hand cupped your jaw first, then trailed down to your breast. He remained inside you yet stayed still as both of you froze in the moment. Din’s thumb brushing across your nipple was the only movement save for the way both your chests expanded with your heavy breaths.

A whimper escaped your lips as Din caressed your breast, gently pinching your nipple as he fondled you. He worshiped your body with his touch and you could hear the heavy breaths from under his helmet. Heat rose between the two of you as he kneaded your breasts.

Din murmured your name as his hand trailed up your chest and along your arms until he took your hand in his. Leaning forward, Din pressed his forehead against yours as he covered your body with his own and resumed his thrusts.

This time, you couldn’t hold back your moans. Between the way he pounded into you and the emotions that came with the intimacy of the moment, you couldn’t help the way you cried out. Din’s cock hit spots deep inside you that you never felt before, and it brought tears to your eyes.

“Fuck… Din…”

“I know,” he groaned, “Me too…”

His hand clasped around yours as he sped up his thrusts, rocking into you with abandon. You arched your back into him as you squeezed his hand right back, and your eyes fluttered shut as you felt your climax quickly approach. 

“Din… I’m…” was all you could get out before your orgasm hit you. Your entire body trembled under his beskar-clad one as you came hard on his cock. Your cries echoed in the small space as you felt Din hit your sweet spot over and over again, making you feel a pleasure unlike anything you ever experienced before.

Din growled your name as his hips became more erratic until he too hit his peak. He dropped down onto his elbows, all while never letting go of your hand as he felt wave after wave of pleasure crash through him as he spilled himself deep inside you.

Heavy breaths filled the small space between your bodies as Din rode out your orgasms together. With one final deep thrust, Din groaned as he stilled himself for a moment until he pulled out of you completely. You let out a soft whine at the loss as you felt your body pulse from the aftershocks of your powerful climax.

He gave your hand one last squeeze before he finally let go, and Din immediately grabbed your shirt so that you could cover yourself.

Mumbling a hushed “thanks,” you maneuvered yourself in the tiny space to dress yourself, slipping your shirt on before shimmying your pants back up. Vaguely, you felt Din’s gaze on you as he helped you move around on the cot. For a moment, you didn’t dare look at him. The emotions were too overwhelming after what happened. Something changed in the air between you two, but neither of you were sure how to address it.

That was when you noticed his hand still lingered on your body, holding you tightly. “Din…” you started in a whisper.

But you were interrupted when a coo from a distance made you both look up. Grugu babbled happily as he made his way outward the bunk and climbed in, settling himself in between you two.

You smiled brightly as you finally looked at Din, “We didn’t wake him did we?” you asked in embarrassment.

“I hope not,” he replied with a soft laugh in his tone, “I’m sure it’s fine,” he reassured you. 

You couldn’t help but giggle as the little child made himself comfortable between the two of you. Faintly, you heard his laughter with yours and it made your heart soar.

Din tilted his head affectionately, “Rest now,” he cradled your face, “We all need some sleep.”

Swallowing hard, you nodded. Wiggling your way around where Grogu already made himself comfortable, you laid down on your side and exhaled deeply. Din did the same after you were settled and he placed himself so that he could wrap his arm around both you and the child, holding you both close, keeping you both safe.

“Goodnight,” you murmured before you drifted off. Surprisingly, it took you no time to fall asleep, perhaps because you were warm and comfortable… and safe.

The Mandalorian, however, laid awake for some time, just listening to you and Grugu sleep. Everything he could ever want in the galaxy was tucked safely in his arms, yet it all felt so far at the same time. He knew neither you nor the child were truly his, yet he felt like the three of you were already a family. If you only knew just how much you meant to him… 

*

“I have a bad feeling about this,” you mumbled.

Din glanced over at you, but said nothing. He placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze before he stepped in front of you. 

The alleyway felt like it closed in around you. Dim lights led the way as you, Din and Grogu tracked the fob and the bustle of the city faded into the distance. It was quiet, but not calming. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something felt wrong, and everything in you screamed to turn around.

Din's presence anchored you, though, and you stayed at his side as you carefully made your way toward where the fob guided you. With each step, it beeped louder until you all turned down one last alley that led to a small shack.

“Careful,” Din hissed under his breath to you.

You and Din each hovered your hands over your weapons, ready to strike. Din scanned the area, and when he found no movement, he nodded to you and opened the door slowly. You held your breath as the two of you pointed your blasters into the small space, ready for anything. However, as you inched closer, you noticed that the target laid still. Scrunching your brows, you reached a hand out to check, and with a sigh you turned back to Din, “He’s already dead.”

Din let out a soft grunt. You were right- something was off about this. But, before he could even reply, an explosion knocked both of you off balance. He shouted your name as he instinctively tried to reach for you, but you were knocked too far away from him.

A yelp escaped your throat as you found yourself thrown against the nearby wall. You groaned as your body ached, but you forced yourself up onto your elbows. Grogu’s pram was pushed next to you, and through the smoke in the distance where the front wall used to be, you saw numerous shadows appear. Din laid on the ground on the other side of the space, groaning as he too pushed himself back up.

Acting quickly, you shot up to your feet and grabbed onto the pram, “Get out of here, Grogu,” you told him and you gathered your strength, “Get out of here and get help,” you strained as you pushed the pram as hard as you could, sending it hurling out the window and into the darkness. You watched it disappear for a moment before you turned to your companion, “Din,” you breathed.

He looked over at you, but before he could even say your name, another figure appeared behind you and knocked you unconscious. Din yelled, both in fear and in anger, and attacked the enemies with everything he had, fighting until he too found his world completely black.

*

You felt the pain before you opened your eyes; your entire body ached. Faintly, you heard voices and clamoring around you, and it took you several seconds to blink your eyes open. When you did, you found yourself in a brightly lit room with several men around you. Gasping, you tried to move, but you found yourself strapped down- your wrists were bound at your sides and your ankles were tied at the end of the table you currently laid on.

“You joined us just in time,” a sinister voice spoke.

Snapping your head in the direction of the voice, you saw a tall man with a rod in his hands. The rod sparked at the end, and you knew immediately what it was for. You spat a curse at him as you struggled to get out of your binds, but that only amused him.

“She’s feisty,” he commented, “I see why you keep her around, Mando,” he moved aside to reveal Din behind him, also bound but in a different way.

The Mandalorian was on his knees, his wrists cuffed together in front of him, and several men strained to keep him in place. His shoulders rose and fell with deep breaths, and you could hear the snarl in his breathing.

“Maybe now you can tell us where the child is,” the man continued as he stepped towards you, the rod pointing right at you.

“Get away from her!” Din shouted, “Let her go!”

He ignored him, the rod hovering just above your skin, “Let’s hear how pretty you are when you scream,” he hissed.

“No!” Din struggled in vain as he tried to break free.

The searing pain from the rod against your skin made you scream before you could fight it. Pulse after pulse of electricity shot through your entire body, and it was the worst pain you had ever felt in your life. Your eyes snapped shut as you tried to wriggle away, but it was no use. You were trapped, and there was nothing you or Din could do.

Your screams went right to Din’s chest, “Stop!” he shouted. Fueled by his rage at seeing you hurt, Din finally broke free of his captors and with a grunt, knocked them out. “It’s me you want. Leave her alone,” Din panted, “Don’t hurt her.”

Din smashed the binders that held his wrists together, shattering it, before he grabbed his small vibroblade that he kept hidden. The room turned into a frenzy as the other men attacked him, but he fought them off until he reached the leader, the one who hurt you.

Amused at the scene, the leader pulled out a blade of his own and countered Din's attack, “Is this… love, Mandalorian?” he asked as he parried Din's attack.

The Mandalorian just growled as rage consumed him. He went blade to blade with the leader a few times, but he soon made a mistake. Din glance over at you, still bound to the table with tears in your eyes. He hesitated for just a moment as the sight of you like that broke him, and that was when the leader stuck, stabbing Din right between the plates of his armor.

“Has a woman made you soft?” he teased in a low voice as he drove the blade deeper, "How sweet," he spat.

Your eyes went wide as your mouth opened to let out a scream, but nothing came out. Instead, all you could croak out was a hushed, "Din..."

Tears fell from your eyes as you wailed and thrashed in your binds, desperate to do something. Maniacal laughter filled the room as Din slumped down, the blade still in his body. You whimpered as you tried to fight through the pain that coursed through your body and free yourself, but it was no use. This was the end. And you didn’t even get to tell him…

Suddenly, the wall on the far side burst open in an explosion and dozens of Karga’s men flooded into the room. They fought off your captors in a heated fight. And through the flames and blaster fire, you saw the familiar outline of the child, who waddled over to you. It was the last thing you saw before you passed out from the pain. 

*

Din woke with a gasp. The last thing he remembered was getting stabbed, hearing you scream and then an explosion. He had no idea where he was, but he did notice that his hands weren’t bound anymore. And the pain had dulled to an ache in his side. But, more than his own injuries, he was more concerned with where you were. Thankfully for him, your voice was the next thing he heard.

“Din,” you gasped, “It’s alright, we’re ok,” you were right next to him.

Din laid back down with a groan as the pain suddenly intensified. But it didn’t matter, you were here, and you were ok. He whispered your name, “What happened?”

“Grogu found backup,” you sounded tired, “Karga and the others found us just in time.”

He groaned, “Grogu?! Where is he?”

“Shh,” you tried to calm him, knowing how much the kid meant to him, “He’s alright. He’s resting in the next room. It took a lot out of him… healing us…”

“Are you alright?” was his next question after a pause.

Your eyes went wide, “Don’t worry about me. Are you ok?”

Din cupped your face, “As long as you and the kid are alright…”

“Don’t say that,” tears filled your eyes before you could stop them. You let out a shaky breath before you added, “Din, you… You sacrificed yourself… For me…” your voice trembled. 

He groaned as he slowly pushed himself up to sit. You mumbled incoherent concerns as you helped him up, and once Din was upright, he found himself almost eye level with you due to the height of the cot. Din let out a heavy sigh as his heart skipped a beat in his chest at the way you looked at him. Though he hated to see tears in your eyes, he noticed the care and concern that highlighted your features.

“Din…” you breathed as he cupped your face once more.

As he gently cradled your face in his hand, Din murmured, “Keeping you and Grogu safe,” he hissed slightly from the pain, “Is all that matters to me. You two are all that matter to me.” Din spoke in a sincere voice.

Fresh tears filled your eyes, but not ones of sadness. You longed to hear him say those words, and now that you heard them, the emotions became overwhelming. “I care about you too, Din,” you whispered as you leaned into his touch, feeling his thumb brush across your cheek, “You and the kid… You’re my family. My everything.”

Din let out a deep breath, “I trust you,” his tone was soft, “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you breathed without hesitation.

He slid his hand up your face to rest over your eyes. Your mouth dropped open as a sigh escaped your lips, but you said nothing and made no attempt to move. You put yourself completely in his hands, knowing you were safe in them. But, you gasped when you heard the hiss of his helmet, and felt the gentle breath from Din’s own lips.

Din leaned in and tenderly placed his lips over yours, using his free hand to keep his helmet covering the rest of his face. You both moaned softly into each other as you savored the feeling of your lips together for the first time. The kiss was soft and sweet, yet it held all the emotions the two of you held close to your hearts. Now that everything was out in the open, though, you and Din both felt like you could share this vulnerability with each other.

You tilted your head to the side as you placed your hands on Din’s armored chest and parted your lips in a silent invitation. Din eagerly took it and deepened the kiss by darting his tongue past your lips. He groaned into you and pushed his chest more into your body as the taste of you sent a jolt of electricity through his veins. A tear of his own slid down his face as he memorized the taste of you and the feeling of your face against his.

As much as neither of you wanted to break away, you needed air. Reluctantly, you both parted at the same time, sharing the air that you both inhaled. Din carefully pulled his helmet down and covered your eyes, taking a moment to admire the subtle features of your face as you kept your eyes closed.

“Look at me,” he said gently.

You blinked your eyes open, and knew from the way he tilted his head to the side that he was admiring you. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you felt his eyes stare at you through the darkness of the visor. “Thank you,” you whispered, “For saving my life,” you slid your hand in his.

“You never have to thank me, mesh’la,” Din murmured as he squeezed your hand and moved his free one to cup the back of your head, “I’ll always protect you,” he continued in a low tone as he guided your head closer to his until your foreheads touched. Din knew his love for you and Grugu didn't make him weak, despite what the leader said. In fact, it made him stronger than ever, it drove him to fight harder to protect you both.

You let out another deep breath as your eyes closed and you cherished the moment. Being held by Din made you feel safe and warm, even with the cold armor he wore. You felt the warmth of his touch, the warmth of his love, even through the beskar. “Let’s go see our kid,” you broke the silence with a smile in your tone.

Din let out a soft, amused huff that told you he was smiling too, “Yeah,” he murmured, “Let’s get our family back together.” 

[lilacxquartz]

Those Late Summer Nights | Chapter 23

satoru gojo x f!reader x suguru geto

plot: moving to the city from a small town was no easy feat, especially to start teaching as a jujutsu sorcerer.

summary: needing to formulate a plan that actually works, shoko tries to team up with yuki who has an even better idea—but it’s surely risky.

masterlist • ao3 • chapter directory • previous chapter • next chapter >

Chapter 23. To Conspire

Shoko had been in shambles ever since Suguru had called her—she was so used to avoiding him by now—especially after everything he had done. She wanted to distance herself by now, to isolate herself away from those she once thought were her friends, and yet… it all kept coming back to haunt her.

The only reason that she was still in this, was because of you. She owed you at least something amid this insanity because just the very thought of you locked up away under Satoru’s suffocating hold made her stomach churn with guilt. You were supposed to be free—that was the whole reason you moved away into the big city, right?

So how did it go from self-discovery and sought-after independence to something like this…?

While Suguru had taken it upon himself to blame you partially for the undoing of the trio, Shoko’s heart was in a completely different place. She couldn’t help but blame herself. You were like a ghost in her mind; chilling and constant.

She tried so hard to help you—to guide your way, and yet, it all ended up going in such a twisted direction with an outcome that seemed almost too disbelieving to predict. Even when she tried to meddle in your fabricated life that she sank all of her possible effort and resources into, it still wasn’t enough to pull you out,

All of the help that she tried to give and yet, it still wasn’t enough.

(Would it… ever be… enough?)

She considered it all again. Satoru had a lot of wealth and influence that spread far and wide all over Jujutsu society. It was therefore a tough thing to counter. He very likely had tabs on your every move along with the other people he kept close within his circle, so it was doubtful that you could just waltz out should an escape opportunity arise, to begin with. He was always there and ready to spring into action from within the shadows. If she had to think about it again, then perhaps his only weakness could have been, that he was so adamant that he was forever successfully in control—so maybe all it took was to execute something that took him out of his depth.

(But what?)

Shoko took a long huff from her cigarette once more, slightly scowling at the sight of it. She kept meaning to drop the habit, but ever since this year had gone downhill, she couldn’t help but reach for the wretched things all over again. She barely scraped by too, hardly holding onto her position as the support that others needed, trying to pretend that deep down, it was all fine. Even if she knew it wasn’t, because whenever she thought back to you—there was always this lingering sense of despair. She failed you, right? What good was her attempt to save you back then if Satoru was always one step ahead of her, tracking you down and stealing you away like it was nothing for him?

At least when Suguru did it, he didn’t keep you so isolated.

No, Satoru was far worse.

She tried—she really did—but this was simply out of her pay grade. Her role in jujutsu was never so confrontational, never combative. She could try to help, but it couldn’t be as direct as she would have liked it to be.

There had to be something else.

Someone else.

Utahime hovered beside her, feeling just as stumped. Shoko moved over to a less demanding role at the Kyoto branch, working with someone she could trust for a change. Utahime took on the situation as best as she could, but even just being Shoko’s moral support was waning her ability to function correctly. For a while, she was largely just… indifferent towards Satoru, but ever since that whole incident that transpired over the summer, it all warped into flat-out dislike, perhaps even hatred. Nobody deserved the fate that you got—to have been robbed of the chance of a normal life, all because he was bad at accepting that some things couldn’t be his.

Shoko leaned into Utahime, her mind still racing for answers, although it was just more questions that kept piling up in the process. She was so desperate to find an answer but her best bet still remained as getting a hold of Yuki, but that was just a potentially fleeting option—it was far from a solution.

(But it was a step and right now, she would be going forward rather than backwards.)

Shoko then thought back once more in reference to Suguru’s involvement. While he was still in her ranks of being the most detestable, he was at the very least a strong temporary ally to have close. He was at least influential, even if he was backed by hatred and problematic ideals. Maybe, if he was just as delusional as Satoru, then he too, could orchestrate something just as insane, given that their minds acted similar to an extent. She supposed that you were incredibly lucky that they never worked to join forces, because as long as they remained conflicting, then you still stood somewhat of a fighting chance.

However, even though she had agreed to help him, she wasn’t capable of fully trusting him—at least not entirely. The temporary truce was just that, after all. Temporary. She would break it off from the second that she got a hold of you again, hopefully distancing you far away from the two of them, lest you fall into the wrong hands again. Suguru might have wanted you back to pursue something different with you, but his intentions weren’t as pure as he let on. You’d still be a prisoner very likely, except your cage wouldn’t be as pretty or as gilded as the one that Satoru gave you.

But, no. She had to try, because if she didn’t, then she might as well be giving up.

And she wasn’t about to do that at all.

~~~

Yuki had disappeared many years ago, leaving Japan to settle abroad, living off of her sorcerer’s pay that she had stealthily deposited into many overseas accounts. In a general sense, she kept a relatively low profile, which meant that getting in touch with her was a project in its own right. Even with the close-knit factor to consider within the confines of jujutsu society, it was still a challenge.

However, she was still likely the best person to approach in this whole situation because while she wasn’t as active of a sorcerer as the others who remained in the country, she was perfectly unpredictable as well as strong. She seldom did things by the book, refusing to be held down by the constricting shackles of jujutsu society’s rigid structures, so she would probably fight dirty if it meant accomplishing a task in mind.

The biggest issue though, was that Yuki wasn’t exactly known for helping others for their personal gain. Shoko hoped that she would at least consider it though, because if not for the sake of being a good person—then for the sake of stirring up trouble—because if she knew one thing about her former classmate, then it was that she had a penchant for challenging the norm and chasing chaos.

After a couple of days of setting everything up, from the burner to getting the right number through a painstaking process, Shoko almost felt… nervous(?) at the prospect. The plotting was somehow the easy part, but the execution was another thing entirely. Still, she hit dial, her eyes locked onto the blank wall ahead, hoping to keep her cool. She was good at that, right? She could surely retain the composure that she was known for doing—she could be the strong, level-headed one in this whole mess, even if this whole ordeal was pushing her over a humane limit.

“Now, who’s gotten my number this time?” Yuki’s voice cut through the speaker, waking up Shoko in a hot beat from her dazed state.

“Shit, shit, shit—you’ve actually picked up?” Shoko let slip before schooling her voice back into something stable. “Yuki, is that really you? I’m not sure if you remember me too well, but—”

“—well, if it isn’t Shoko Ieiri?” she immediately caught on. “What can I do for you, sleepy?”

Shoko paused for a moment, blinking at the nickname before continuing, “Look, I have a problem that needs… taking care of, and you were the only one I could think of for handling something so insane.”

Yuki, too, paused for a moment, taking note of Shoko’s frantic words. If Shoko seemed this desperate, then it had to be something huge, and as such, she played along with it out of curiosity alone. “Ah, I didn’t know you cared that much that I’m the first one on your mind,” she chose to tease, “but seriously” she added, adopting a serious tone, “what’s up? Is everything okay? Is the country in shambles without me?”

“Japan’s fine,” she replied, trying to joke back before continuing, “It’s just… it’s… I-I… I can’t figure out how to explain this mess,” Shoko sighed, “it’s so fucked up. It’s all so fucked up.”

“Yeah?” Yuki asked, softening her voice. “Try me. You have my interest piqued, so I’ll let you start from the very beginning if you’d like.”

Shoko nodded before continuing, her shuddering sighs fluttering sharp over the phone. With some apprehension, she began to explain exactly how it all began; how it all started so normal, even. A new teacher, right? It happens. New staff on an occasion wasn’t too far-fetched of a concept. So, it shouldn’t have gone in the direction that it did when she thought ‘Oh, what the hell?’ when trying for once, to include someone new in the group.

Yuki intently listened to her all the while, nodding her head while humming out ‘uh-huhs’ and ‘mhms’ as Shoko spoke. She blamed herself so much however in the admission, that it almost threw Yuki off-guard though, since this fussing sort of Shoko wasn’t the one she knew way back in the day.

Dropping the playful tone of voice entirely, she spoke up after a while of letting the information sit in the air, “So, let me see if I can understand this correctly,” Yuki began, “Satoru freaking Gojo is holding someone captive? In his basement? Excuse me, but what the actual fuck?”

“I know, I know,” Shoko sighed, reaching into her pockets to fish out yet another cigarette, “but I’m not kidding, unfortunately—it’s exactly what it is.”

“So… insane?” Yuki scoffed.

Shoko mirrored her disbelief with a sharp, breathless laugh. “Yeah that’s one way to put it. I tried calling it out earlier on in the year—I tried to intervene, but I feel like I just made things worse than they were before. Maybe I shouldn’t have gotten her involved with us in the first place. Maybe it should have been telling from the fact alone that nobody else can keep up with us, maybe—”

“—stop blaming yourself,” Yuki interrupted her, “what on earth happened to the Shoko I knew back then?”

“She’s worn down,” Shoko muttered bitterly, “life keeps getting more and more fucked up with each passing year.”

Yuki let out a deep breath, finding it difficult to be the calm one for a change, but clearly something must have been wrong if Shoko was acting the way she was. With a determined tone, she tried to address another pressing issue, “Alright. So you called me because you want me to help right?”

Shoko paused, trying to get herself together. “Yes. Ideally I want her out and gone away from this place, somewhere where they both can’t get her.”

“That’s a hell of an ask, you know,” Yuki sighed.

“I know that it’s a terrible plan,” Shoko admitted, “but I can’t just sit around do nothing.”

Yuki laughed a little. “Yeah, terrible is putting is mildly…” she replied before taking on a much more serious tone, “Look, I get the urgency, I really do, but I don’t think brute force is going to work in our favour here. Gojo can see everything coming, remember? He’s got the six eyes. If you want to really get your friend out, then you need to do something that he can’t ignore—you need to get personal.”

“Personal?” Shoko repeated, not quite asking Yuki just what that could possibly entail just yet.

Yuki carried on anyway, “Yes, personal. You’re treating him like he isn’t human, Sho. You need to hit him in a way that actually threatens him, like meddling in matters outside of his control.”

Shoko narrowed her eyes as she continued to think about what that could mean. “Like… getting his students involved?”

“You’re on the right track,” Yuki replied, “but let’s take it up a notch. It needs to be someone that he can’t ignore if they find themselves in trouble.”

“You can’t possibly mean getting Megumi involved, right?” she asked apprehensively, not wanting to put the kid through anything stressful.

Yuki backtracked a little, regretting being so vague. “Relax with that tone, will you?” she half-laughed, “I’m not saying that we actually hurt him, but we could possibly stage something convincing enough. Maybe we could even plant something and get the kid to discover it all by himself.”

“And would that even work? He’s what? Like barely 12…? It just… seems a bit too much?” she asked without skipping a beat.

“It might—he’s perceptive from what I remember,” Yuki replied in a semi-convincing way, leading Shoko to almost being able to picture her shrugging, “he won’t ignore anything that happens to Megumi, which might actually keep him distracted for long enough to give me a window to slip in and get your friend out.”

“Oh… yeah, okay. Yeah, that makes sense,” Shoko found herself muttering.

“It’s still your idea, Sho, I’m just adding to it,” Yuki reminded her.

“I’m sorry, I’m just really nervous, you know?” she sighed, trying to calm herself down. “It’s just so… suicidal, isn’t it? We’re going up against him? I’m just feeling nervous for once. Like, it’s unreal.”

“Yeah, yeah, he’s gonna be pissed alright—but what’s the alternative?” Yuki asked, trying to ground her. “…Ask yourself this. Is he ever going to realistically let her go?”

Shoko went quiet for a while, seemingly deep in thought. On the other end of the line, Yuki could her breathing.

“...I don’t think so…?” Shoko admitted, at last, her voice tinged with resignation, but also with a new found acceptance in moving forward.

“So, it’s settled then,” Yuki hummed. “I’ll see you in a week or so. Got a place for me to crash undetected?”

“Yeah, yeah…” she absentmindedly murmured, remembering that Yuki could set up shop in her Utahime’s lake house just fine, “I’ve got you covered, but… there’s one little thing that I have left out… it’s kind of major.”

Yuki paused, but then her curiosity gave in. “Go on…?”

“Suguru’s helping us,” she hesitantly confessed.

A long pause followed but then Yuki broke the tension with a sharp, scoffing laugh. “Geto? You’ve got Geto involved?” she asked, almost cackling in bewilderment. “Not only is he his best friend but he’s also the same guy that this whole thing started with? You brought him into this? Shoko, I’m sorry, but are you actually feeling okay?”

Shoko hesitated again, “I didn’t have a choice, okay? But that’s beside the point. He’s the one who came up with this whole idea to get her out. I’m just trying to put together a plan that won’t fuck me or my friend over.”

“Shoko,” Yuki tried to urge, “what is he getting out of this? He can’t possibly be doing this for good and wholesome reasons.”

“But—but maybe it’s guilt?” she brainstormed, not quite believing her own answer, feeling hesitant to believe that the two closest people in her life had gotten this bad. “I don’t exactly know why though, this whole thing has gotten so messy.”

Yuki shook her head, letting out a stream of disagreeing noises. “Guilt? No, no. Shoko. Honey. There is no way that the guy who is partially responsible for this whole thing is feeling guilty at all. Think about it. If he had something similar up his sleeve, then he’s not feeling guilty at all. He’s just cooperating with you because things didn’t end how he expected them to.”

“I know that having him involved isn’t a great idea,” Shoko admitted, “but he’s not on chummy terms with Satoru right now either. He’s left the group to go and do… something. I think something about a cult. He’s got influence now, so maybe if he could convince some others to play along then he could—”

Yuki once again cut her off, “—cult? Shoko. Shoko…” she tried to repeat a couple of times, hopefully pulling her out of this insanity that she kept bringing up. “Nothing good can come out of a cult. Especially not one that Geto’s running. They’re likely just as crazy as he is—they’d sell you out from the second it suits them.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Shoko almost pleaded, seeming desperate. “He’s already involved so it’s not like he’s going to sit this one out.”

“Alright, alright,” Yuki sighed once more, trying to restore a semblance of common sense in them both, “how about…” she trailed off, trying to form a cohesive plan, “how about we string him along and make him feel like he’s really contributing, maybe even in the sense that he’s the one screwing us over just to get him to play along how we need him to and then… if we pull it off, then we distance ourselves before he has a chance to catch on?”

“Okay, yes, sorry,” Shoko let out a deep breath, feeling much more calm now that there was something to go with, “is she still able to leave with you, if possible?”

Yuki clicked her tongue. “Anything’s possible, Sho, but we don’t know how it’s all going to go, so let’s just focus on pulling this off to the best of our ability and then we can consider our next move. If we focus on one step at a time, then it’s not as scary as it all seems. You can count on me.”

Shoko nodded, clinging to the phone. “I will be. You have no idea just how much.”

“Good,” Yuki added, seeming pleased with the trust she put into her, “we’ll be in touch. Lose this phone though. I’ll be the one to get in touch with you next. Don’t ask how.”

Before Shoko even had the opportunity to say anything back, however, Yuki had already hung up. She sighed a deep breath a minute later, pushing herself up against a nearby wall as her body trembled with stress. Was she really about to do this? She never went into jujutsu to fight; all she was after was a pretty paycheck, but it all had gotten so complicated as of late.

But she owed you this—she’d get you out of there—one way or another.

~~~

Meanwhile, you were in the process of waking up. The past couple of days passed on so quickly, that you had barely noticed that any time had passed at all. It was depressing, but you found yourself simply just dreaming of the outdoors, not really doing anything at all. Sometimes at night, you’d wake up and blow softly on your skin, pretending that it was a cold breeze.

You were still partially asleep when he reunited with you today, however. His voice sounded louder than usual as he announced his presence, cutting into your ears in a way that felt almost jarring.

“Good morning,” Satoru sang. Something about him seemed colder today, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it as to why. His tone of voice sounded happy, but there was a certain flatness laced within it, making him sound clinical when he spoke to you.

You opened up your eyes to look at him, locking onto those cool blue eyes. The way he stared at you seemed affectionate, but it was the way he conducted himself made you hesitate.

(Was he doing this on purpose?)

You didn’t respond right away, anyway, allowing your eyes to glaze over to the sleek walls just up ahead, intentionally averting your gaze. His fingers however tapped against your face after a moment, demanding your attention. He was going to get to you, one way or another, after all.

“It’s common courtesy to say good morning back when someone says it first,” Satoru reminded you, keeping his tone measured, although there was a threat laced within it, “especially your lover. So, let’s try again, shall we? Good morning.”

“Good morning,” you reluctantly obliged at last.

“There we go,” he praised, seeming pleased that you gave in, “we’re making such good progress already. Now, tell me, what do couples do in the mornings together?”

You glanced at him for a moment, seeming apprehensive. You didn’t want him to touch you like that today, but the look in his eyes didn’t seem to hint at such a thing. “I don’t know, what?”

“They eat breakfast together,” he answered, pulling you up so that you sat upright, handing you a container of something edible. He must have gotten it last night since it was cold. “For you,” he gestured, fitting a pair of chopsticks into your hand, “now eat, I made it for you. I’d hate to think you’re ungrateful for all that I do for you.”

You slowly started to eat, more so out of survival rather than to sate any hunger you had. The rice was slightly overcooked and the meat felt dry, but he was correct, you weren’t in any sort of position to be ungrateful. He could have fed you a lot worse—he could have treated you a whole lot worse, but even if he didn’t beat you, it still didn’t feel that great to be locked up in here for months on end.

Satoru watched as you ate, seeming content with your surrender towards all those little things he had you do. He felt a bit bad about it at times, but it was all for a good cause. He could give you a very good life if you just played along, after all.

You on the other hand wanted to scream, to smack the container across his face—to do anything other than to rot your life away within these wretched walls, but instead, all you could do was keep all of that bottled up, even though it should have all spilled forever ago.

“Now, what would you like to do today?” he asked. “I have a free day, you know. We can do anything… within reason.”

“I would like to go home,” you said, on occasion letting the four-lettered word slip. Home.

(But… where even was home anymore?)

Satoru didn’t flinch as you admitted that, but something in his demeanour had certainly shifted again into something stiffer. “What a silly reply. You are home,” he softly replied. “Hey…” he then trailed off, forming an idea in his mind, “how about… I show you the snow?”

Your eyes narrowed, not quite trusting his words, but then he took your hand into his, pulling you up to your feet. You followed him apprehensively at first, but to your surprise, he did seem to be leading you up and out of the basement. You followed on with extreme hesitance, your bare feet cold against the smooth tiled floor.

Despite living in a perpetual fluorescently-lit dwelling, your eyes winced at the harsh daylight spilling into what appeared to be his bedroom. It was much colder, too. You held onto him tighter than you wanted to, feeling a little afraid of being so close to the outside for a change despite dreaming of it so much.

“It snowed just last night,” he said, standing right behind you with the front of his body pressed right against yours, “not a whole lot, but enough to make it look nice. Do you like it?”

You hesitantly nodded, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight.

“If you keep this up,” he gently murmured, pulling you in a bit closer to him, “we can go outside as soon as next week. At night, of course. Just for a little walk when everyone’s fast asleep. Would you like that?”

“What’s the catch?” you asked in a hoarse voice, expecting something like needing to put out more or give in to his delusions with more enthusiasm, but Satoru remained somehow elusive with his intentions.

He simply smiled, shrugging his shoulders as he spoke, “No catch,” he lied, “I want to be nice for a change. You’ve been through enough, haven’t you?” he asked, planning to expose you to freedom on occasion, only to take it potentially isolate you even further if you went into a direction he didn’t approve of. “I think that much deserves a reward. So continue to be good and maybe we can do as much as have a night date, okay? Just like we once did.”

You nodded, albeit still feeling wary and when he led you back down to the basement, you didn’t resist at all. The image of snow stayed with you for a while, the memory burning itself into the back of your mind.

For once, you hated yourself just a little less for playing along.

Were you actually… finally starting to break?

It sure felt like it.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

We'll give it a shot

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 30/31

Prompt: New year's resolutions

Rated: G

CW: aftermath of injury; aftermath of trauma

Tags: Established relationship; recovery; fluff

Notes: Continued from days 3 and 18 - @house-of-the-moving-image and I just wanted them to be happy after all we put them through. 😭❤️

Steve has always been all movement, all fluid grace, for as long as Eddie remembers. On the pitch, in the pool. Shielding others with his own body, his strength. He was proud of this. It was the one thing he knew he was good at.

And then Vecna nearly twisted his limbs from his body. Broke his arm in three different places, his leg in five.

“They say I'll need to be patient,” Steve tells Eddie a few months after everything, hands tangled over the middle console of the van. It's late December and they're on their way back from physical therapy. “Could be months before I walk without crutches. Years maybe before I'm back to the way I was before… or close.”

Eddie clenches his free hand around the steering wheel, like Steve clung to that stupid handrail earlier. White-knuckled and pale-faced, jaw locked tight as he struggled to take a few shaky steps. Not for the first time, he wishes that he'd been faster, pulled him out sooner-

“Eds.”

He snaps back to the present as if pulled by a bungee rope. Steve’s eyes are warm and soft.

“Stop it,” he says, gentle and firm and so very strong, so very Steve. Eddie needs to swallow against the sudden thickness clogging his throat. “You've nothing to hold against yourself. You saved me.”

“You saved yourself,” Eddie huffs, eyes stubbornly trained on the snowy road. “I helped, is all. You can do this, too. You'll be walking in no time, you just wait.”

“Dunno,” Steve mutters. He sounds so small, so broken, so very much not like himself, and Eddie wishes he could resurrect Vecna, simply to kill him again. Make it more painful this time, let him suffer like he made them suffer. “You saw me just now. Feels like I need to fight forever for every little inch of success.”

“Let's make a deal?”

The words are out before Eddie can think better of it, but the sadness on Steve’s face has given way to curiosity, so he shoulders on.

“We could make it a new year's resolution. If you manage to walk by … July, let's say, I'll quit smoking.”

“Oh, please!” Steve's eyebrow quirks. “As if you could.”

“Of course I could. I'm tired of you whining about my cigarette breath anyhow. What's wrong, big boy? Scared of getting your ass handed to you?”

“Fuck off,” Steve grouses, but his mouth is curling into a smile and his eyes are sparkling. “It's on, dude!”

“Hell, yeah!” Eddie makes no attempt at hiding his smug grin. Count on Steve’s competitive streak to win him over. “It's so on!”

*

“Oh God,” Steve squawks the second his hands lose contact with the crutches. “It's off. Eds, it's off, give’m here.”

“Nuh-uh!” Eddie dances a step back - not far, still close enough to catch Steve in case he falls, but far enough to keep the crutches out of reach. “Just give it a shot, c’mon. You got this.”

Over the distance between them, their eyes meet.

“I've gotcha.”

Steve's eyes light up and a small laugh bubbles from his throat.

And then he walks.

Eddie makes sure to stay a bit ahead, spouting a never-ending string of encouragement and jokes and sweet nonsense. Just keeps talking so that Steve can focus on something other than the fear and the doubt. Guides him with his voice like he's done before, like he'll keep doing for as long as Steve needs, as long as he wants.

The first steps are unsure and wobbly, but soon enough, Steve finds his footing. They've both kicked off their shoes, and the dry summer grass is brittle under their naked feet, the earth soft and warm. The sound of their footfalls mingles with the whirr of the cicadas in the grass, the rush of his own blood in his ears, their mingled laughter, a gorgeous, wonderful symphony of alive, alive, alive.

When Steve’s legs give out and he stumbles, Eddie is there. He cushions their fall with his own body and they go down in a tangle of limbs and laughter, lips meeting before they even hit the ground. The crutches go clattering somewhere to the side.

“I did it!” Steve gasps against his mouth, and Eddie can't tell if the sound is more laugh or more sob. “Shit, did you- did you see that? I did it!”

“You did it,” Eddie rumbles, hands in Steve's hair, kissing his lips and nose and eyes and anything he can reach between words. Both their cheeks are wet with tears, but they're good tears, finally good tears, and he can’t tell whose they are anymore. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that they’re alive, and here, and together. “Fuck yeah, you did, always knew you would. So strong, so amazing. Love you so much.”

Steve makes another sound, a raw thing so full of emotion it makes Eddie’s heart flutter, and crashes their lips together again, firmer, longer. Eddie sighs as a hesitant tongue coaxes at his lips, opens up, lets him in.

And then Steve groans and pulls back.

“What?” Eddie asks, insides twisting with worry. “Shit, did you hurt yourself? What-”

“‘m fine!” Steve wheezes, glancing up at him with watery eyes. “You just taste like an ashtray, is all.”

“Oh, c'mon!” Eddie grouses while Steve rolls off him, flops onto his back in the grass. “I had like half a cig this morning.”

“Half a cig too much, then,” Steve beams up at him, all glinting teeth and gold-streaked hair in the sunlight, eyes sparkling with mirth and alive, alive, alive. “I win.”

Eddie pouts. “What though? Can't remember agreeing on a prize, this was all fun and-”

One strong, nimble hand tangles in the collar of his shirt, pulls him in.

“Shut up and kiss me, ash breath.”

Eddie has never obeyed an order more gladly in his life.

All my holiday drabbles