#praying justice will be served
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starstarted · 3 months ago
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Le sserafim comeback on my birthday and it's not even the only thing happening today bsnsksksk
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rhodyrich · 6 months ago
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labbaik-ya-hussain-as · 8 months ago
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charlesoberonn · 4 months ago
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Please read the last two paragraphs of Justice Sonia Sotomayor's dissent to the recent 6-3 decision granting presidents absolute immunity:
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Looking beyond the fate of this particular prosecution, the long-term consequences of today’s decision are stark. The Court effectively creates a law-free zone around the President, upsetting the status quo that has existed since the Founding. This new official-acts immunity now “lies about like a loaded weapon” for any President that wishes to place his own interests, his own political survival, or his own financial gain, above the interests of the Nation. The President of the United States is the most powerful person in the country, and possibly the world. When he uses his official powers in any way, under the majority’s reasoning, he now will be insulated from criminal prosecution. Orders the Navy’s Seal Team 6 to assassinate a political rival? Immune. Organizes a military coup to hold onto power? Immune. Takes a bribe in exchange for a pardon Immune. Immune, immune, immune. Let the President violate the law, let him exploit the trappings of his office for personal gain, let him use his official power for evil ends. Because if he knew that he may one day face liability for breaking the law, he might not be as bold and fearless as we would like him to be. That is the majority’s message today. Even if these nightmare scenarios never play out, and I pray they never do, the damage has been done. The relationship between the President and the people he serves has shifted irrevocably. In every use of official power, the President is now a king above the law. The majority’s single-minded fixation on the President’s need for boldness and dispatch ignores the countervailing need for accountability and restraint. The Framers were not so single-minded. In the Federalist Papers, after “endeavor[ing] to show” that the Executive designed by the Constitution “combines . . . all the requisites to energy," Alexander Hamilton asked a separate, equally important question: “Does it also combine the requisites to safety, in a republican sense, a due dependence on the people, a due responsibility?”. The answer then was yes, based in part upon the President’s vulnerability to “prosecution in the common course of law.” The answer after today is no. Never in the history of our Republic has a President had reason to believe that he would be immune from criminal prosecution if he used the trappings of his office to violate the criminal law. Moving forward, however, all former Presidents will be cloaked in such immunity. If the occupant of that office misuses official power for personal gain, the criminal law that the rest of us must abide will not provide a backstop. With fear for our democracy, I dissent.
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deadpresidents · 4 months ago
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"The President of the United States is the most powerful person in the country, and possibly the world. When he uses his official powers in any way, under the majority’s reasoning, he now will be insulated from criminal prosecution. Orders the Navy’s Seal Team 6 to assassinate a political rival? Immune. Organizes a military dissenting coup to hold onto power? Immune. Takes a bribe in exchange for a pardon? Immune. Immune, immune, immune. Let the President violate the law, let him exploit the trappings of his office for personal gain, let him use his official power for evil ends. Because if he knew that he may one day face liability for breaking the law, he might not be as bold and fearless as we would like him to be. That is the majority’s message today.
Even if these nightmare scenarios never play out, and I pray they never do, the damage has been done. The relationship between the President and the people he serves has shifted irrevocably. In every use of official power, the President is now a king above the law.
Never in the history of our Republic has a President had reason to believe that he would be immune from criminal prosecution if he used the trappings of his office to violate the criminal law. Moving forward, however, all former Presidents will be cloaked in such immunity. If the occupant of that office misuses official power for personal gain, the criminal law that the rest of us must abide will not provide a backstop. With fear for our democracy, I dissent." - Justice Sonia Sotomayor's dissenting opinion
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hotwritergf · 3 months ago
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Comfort item🧸
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It has been a hell of a day. Early rise and a late finish, with maybe 5 minutes worth of a lunch break in between few cigarettes stops. Getting on the jet felt like finally being able to breathe. The unsub was caught, the case cracked, justice served. That’s what you signed up for. As you open your backpack in your seat, you rummage around in the depths of your bag, a deep sense of guilt and disappointment hitting the pit of your stomach.
You pale, realising you’d left your one comfort item at home.
The whole team had one, Reid had his blanket, Morgan his headphones and JJ a book to read. Yours was rather particular and could not be replaced, your stuffed animal, but he was more than that. He is an Eeyore plushie that you’ve been inseparable with since the day you received him as a birthday gift. Over the years he’d been ripped and sewn up, every time you pretended to give him anaesthetic for his surgery. He’d been with you, through all the nights you couldn’t sleep, the nights you’d cried yourself to sleep. He’d even shared the bed with your ex boyfriends, much to their dismay.
You knew this journey home without Eeyore would be a sleepless one.
"Hi."
Hotch slips himself into the seat next to you. He notices her sitting curled up on the seat and he can't help but notice how miserable you look, curling herself into a ball to almost hide from something.
"Are you doing okay?"
He asks, keeping his voice low to not disturb the others. You whisper in response, just muttering something about being tired.
"You look it. This was a tiring case. You should get some sleep."
He looks across to the others playing cards. Reid was almost definitely cheating again he assumed, as Morgan stared across the table with eyes like daggers, Emily’s head rested on his shoulder as she laughed at the confrontation in front of her.
"They'll probably keep going for a couple more hours if you can ignore them."
You pout, Hotch would be a safe person to share this problem with. He has a child so he’s definitely seen similar conundrums, maybe Jack wasn’t as much as of a baby as you are at the grown age of 22.
“I- I can’t sleep. Not without my Eeyore.”
You mutter under your breath, praying Aaron hears it. Admitting the fact again would be too embarrassing to endure.
He chuckles lightly at her choice of sleep companion.
"And your Eeyore toy is at home?"
He looks down at you, lifting your chin up with his thumb so you look him in the eye. You nod shyly in response, slipping into a nonverbal headspace.
Aaron looks sympathetic as she nods with a frowny face, but he still can’t resist teasing you.
"Aww, you miss your stuffed animal."
He smirks, making a little teasing remark. He matches his facial expression with yours, both modelling pouty frowns. Staring into each other’s eyes, you’re not sure how you started this game of getting the other to break the act and laugh. But you were certainly losing. Your lips curl up into a smirk and you let out a soft breathy giggle, your smile growing when he smirks back.
"Lie down then, come on."
Hotchner pats his lap, offering for her to rest her head on it. He adjusts his position so he's sat more comfortably and begins to gently run his calloused fingers through her hair, gently stroking it.
“This should help you fall asleep, hm?"
You feel the breath you’ve been accidentally holding release, your shoulders fall and for the first time all day you feel calm. You practically purr under his touch, smiling up and nodding at him.
Hotch glances down fondly as his hand continues to gently run through her hair.
"Good."
He lowers his voice to a hushed whisper as to not disturb the other members of the team who are a few seats down.
"You are adorable, you know that?"
You feel your cheeks burn under your new found blush, rolling your head inwards to hide your face in his stomach. You squeal internally, realising you’re basically putty in his hands.
"Hey, what's wrong, hm?"
He questions, still keeping his voice gentle as he glances back down at her, his arms wrapped around her in a tight yet still comfortable hug.
“Nothing.. I- I miss Eeyore, but this is nice too.”
You manage to blurt out, half in nervousness and the other in honesty.
“When you get home, you can tell Eeyore all about how brave you were on your adventure without him. And you’re right, this is nice. Sweet girl, just needed to cuddle up and get a few head scratches. It’s cute you know? It’s precious. Having a comfort item, it doesn’t make you weak.”
Hotch speaks earnestly, running his fingers through your outgrown fridge and tucking the hair behind your ear.
"And I, I'll happily keep doing this as long as it keeps you sleepy. It's kind of cute how much of a baby you are and how easy it is to send you to sleep with a gentle head rub.“
Aaron’s voice sounded like silk, so soft and calming. It makes your eyelids feel heavier until they close. It can’t be that bad to take a nap on your bosses lap, can it?
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mydarlingclaudia · 2 months ago
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I will love you ‘til the end of time
note : divider is from @/toastray. I have nothing to say this was supposed to be a couple hundred words but yk.
wc : 2.7k
tags : @lottiies @luvrgreyy
desc : he’s been in love with the memory of you for too long, falling back in love with the newer you took a matter of seconds. fluff, bit of angst (?), au, re4rLeon, fem!reader, not proofread, I talk a tiny bit about sex at the end but there’s no smut.
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Leon doesn’t remember the sound of your voice, it’s been too long, too many years have passed since the day you died.
Six years was all the time the two of you had together. Six good years. All a really, really long time ago. Leon hates it, he knows he’s forgetting, memories are serving less and less of a purpose to him everyday. How is he to remember lying under the trees with you when those trees have been cut down and turned to homes and firewood? How can he remember you gutting fish for the two of you to eat when the fish have left the river you lived by?
The home you originally lived in had been torn down and rebuilt dozens of times by now, Leon wasn’t always there, even when he was, it wasn’t very lived in after you died. He’s been around the world more times than he can remember, before you, with you, after you. No place looks the same. Leon has many homes, stays there for a few decades, packs up, and moves to the next house in the next country.
He had been gifted with everlasting life for being some hero, for fighting monster when those were still a thing, it was well after he had married you, he didn’t tell you, but he thought you’d spend forever together. Didn’t happen, obviously. You got sick, he took care of you, nothing helped.
Leon prayed to whatever God that had bestowed his immortality to him to give it to you too, to keep you alive, to make you healthy again. He received no answer and you died not long after, Leon was left to spend the rest of his eternal life alone, but the world was his, and he has all the time that the universe has to offer. But what had he done to not be granted the one thing he wanted in the world? Why would some God reward him just to let him live the rest of his life miserable?
Leon’s seen everyone fall in love, but love evolved from courting to dating apps, he’s seen an embarrassing amount of shitty first dates. But he’s also seen a lot of good ones, ones where the first date turns to a second one, then a third, then a fourth, then before he knows it, those twenty-something-year-olds he had seen fall in love in a small restaurant were now taking their teenagers to the mall and going to high school reunions.
You would have loved this, or he hopes you would’ve. Because he really wishes that you were there to cuddle up to him on the couch and watch tv with him until midnight, he wanted to take you on cute dates, he wants to buy you things and renew your vows once every few years.
He wishes that the memories are clearer in his head, he can really only see them when he closes his eyes, or when the weather is a certain way, or when a certain smell hits his nose. Leon wants to feel your skin against his again. he wants to hear you talking directly into his ear and see that smirk on your face when you suggest something you know he won't refuse.
But it's been so long and he knows that your body has long since decomposed and your grave has been swallowed up by the ocean, a good half of the time since then he's been living on auto-pilot, the other half he's painfully aware of your absence with each day that passes.
He's not even sure he'd be able to hold you correctly, should you fall back into his arms one day. Would you still love him despite that?
He's gone so long without a lover, would he remember how to kiss? The Hollywood movies don't do it justice, kissing. But no one in those movies kissed like you had, Leon's seen all kinds of romance movies, read all kinds of books, he's always imagined you and him as the main characters, but you never kiss him the way you used to.
Would you even choose him? There were so many different men out there and so many new ways to meet someone and stay connected, there was no rush to get married or have kids, would Leon be the man you'd pick once again? He hopes so.
He doesn't remember Beowulf having a wife, and Beowulf had been great. He knows that many heroes aren't able to keep their wife and their glory at the same time, the decision is often made for them, and they go on fighting until they die. But Leon stopped fighting with the same determination when you passed, he still did it, people needed protecting, but if he wasn't there to protect you, then was there really anything to fight for?
Despite all of this, he's still here. Leon looks the same as he did all those years ago, some things have changed, a lot, really, but not just about him. The world around him has grown, he's watched generations come and go just to get to some shitty grocery store in Raccoon City twenty minutes before they close at eight.
Leon doesn't like to have to work all the time, he thinks it's crazy how he went from hero to cop, more money was needed to live now than he ever imagined would be possible. He has money saved up from years and years of work, but he can't keep using the "generational wealth" excuse when he's got no family.
He doesn't like being bugged much, either. Maybe that's why he's buying his dinner when he's already supposed to be in bed, could be why he works so much even though he can't stand it sometimes, too.
Leon should have grabbed a shopping cart, the basket he carries is overflowing with shit he doesn't even need, when has he ever even eaten Devil Dogs and Zebra Cakes? He really needs to eat more than just pasta and steak every other night, maybe stop getting deliveries from the pizza place, too. He's looking over the ingredients on the back of a cereal box he knows he's going to get no matter what when there's a soft tap on his shoulder, he sighs and stops, turning around and preparing to be asked a question a cashier would know the answer to rather than him.
But Leon freezes the second his eyes land on your face. He must've gone crazy, it can't be you, can it? You're not really standing in front of him with a basket in your arms, wearing a winter jacket over your sweatshirt and smiling at him as if you're some stranger to him.
"Where did you get those?" Your voice is quiet when you speak, his gaze doesn't even follow your hand when you point at the sweets in his basket, he just stands there and admires you for a few seconds.
Leon wants to cry, he wants to hug you, he wants to kiss you, tell you to run away with him, find someway for you to become immortal and stay by his side until the world ends. But he doesn’t, you look at him like he’s a stranger.
"Oh- Th-the uhm, the Zebra Cakes?" Leon finally asks after a few seconds, you only nod. "The e-end of aisle six." Why is he stammering? He's thought about all the things he'd say to you for hundreds of years, and he's instantly throwing every single word out the window the second you come out from whatever corner of the world you've been hiding in.
"Alright, thanks." God, it really is you. Your smile's the same, you look the same, you smell the same, you sound the same, you just- it's you. He remembers the way you sound again, God, please don’t ever take your voice away from him. He stops himself from reaching for your wrist when you walk away, knowing that you don't remember the things he does and that it'll only make you feel weird about him. But he'll settle for knowing that you're alive and that you're in the city, and that hopefully this won't be the last time he sees you.
The next time Leon sees you is on the subway a few weeks later in December.
You're not really looking when you step into the train, reaching up too high for the pole to hang onto and instead grab onto his hand. Your hands are so cold, you really need to wear gloves. But you gasp and pull your hand away when you feel his warm hand touch your skin, instantly holding lower down on the cold pole and looking at him.
"Oh my God, I'm sorry!" It's cute how quickly you apologize, it brings a smile to his face.
"No- No, you’re fine." He wants so badly to wrap his hand around yours, to hold you close and keep you warm, but he couldn’t, he was still a stranger to you. Being in a crowded train and standing a few inches apart was enough for now.
Leon just watches you, you don’t notice because you’re too busy staring down at your shoes, but his eyes are tracing over the curve of your nose, the way your eyelashes look when you blink, how kissable your lips look. He missed this view, although he'd much rather have you looking back at him with the same adoration in your eyes.
Neither of you speak again for the rest of the ride, you can feel him staring at you, though, you don’t entirely mind, you’d probably looking at him if his eyes weren’t burning holes through your skull.
You haven’t left his mind since he saw you at the grocery store, he’s been trying to figure out ways to find you again without getting put on some kind of radar, he’s too impatient to let things happen naturally, but it’s really the only choice he has.
He knows you recognize him, he can’t help but wonder if you’re getting some kind of vision from the past of him kissing you, of you resting on top of him in the sunlight, of him looking at you with awe in his eyes as you laugh at a story he told you.
But he can’t think about that for long, the train comes to a stop and you leave again, looking back over your shoulder at him and giving him a small goodbye smile. Where have you been all these years?
Sometimes, shitty dates were a good thing.
Both parties normally end up having a bad rest of their night, but if some man-child asshole you had been put on a date with hadn’t just thrown a whole tantrum and stomped out of the bar, you wouldn’t be sitting next to Leon.
He didn’t know you’d be here tonight, he was just here because he wanted to grab a drink after work, but this was better.
It’s awkward, he really, really doesn’t hope you think he’s stalking you. How small could a city be? Is it really so odd that the man you said a few words to at a grocery store and bumped into on the train would be sitting next to you at a bar?
Leon’s always had a staring problem when it came to you, he’s sure you’re too pretty for him, not that you were really his anymore. And Christ, you’re still beautiful, maybe even more so now. Modern clothes look good on you, he likes your dress, your shoes, the way you did your hair, the color you painted your nails.
He has to stop staring, because now you’re looking back at him. Leon expects for you to yell at him, or slap him, or something, but you just smile at him and turn towards him a tiny bit more.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to stare, zoned out.” Leon apologizes once his eyes snap up to yours, you had moved from your table up to the bar a few minutes ago, most likely embarrassed. You brought your drink over, too, though you didn’t really pay attention to it, just circling the lip of the cup with your fingers and taking a few sips every few seconds.
“It’s okay, I don’t mind.” Your smile only grows, Leon has to bite back a grin threatening to stretch across his lips. Once again, he’s not sure what to say. Does he ever really know what to say now, though? You take the words right out of his mouth and turn them into broken mumbles that he tries to cover up with a fake cough or forced chuckle.
That didn’t use to happen, he’d still get nervous around you, but seeing you now made him feel like he was falling in love again.
“I’d feel like I’ve seen you before…?” You say, you know you’re right, you just want him to talk to you because you haven’t been able to get him out of your head, for some reason.
“Oh, uhm, yeah- Yeah, I think I’ve seen you around, too.” Is he seriously fucking blushing right now?
“Hm, small world.” You take a sip from your drink, he does the same.
“So, uh, bad date?” Leon asks before he can stop himself, he knows the answer, but you were probably going to get mad at him, get offended and ignore him if he sees you again.
“Yeah,” You sigh, “It’s fine, though. Blind date.” Leon nodded, staring down at the ring of water his glass left on the countertop. “You just here for a drink?”
“Mhm,” Alcohol was like water to him now, not the way that he drinks it everyday, but that it hardly has an effect on him anymore. But he can’t sit here and drink glass after glass unless if he wants people to get concerned, so he just sips on one or two for an hour and leaves. You’re drinking the same drink as him, though, so he decides to stay for longer than usual.
And to his amazement, you stay, too. You laugh and nod at the stories he tells you, he listens intently to the ones you tell in return. Of course you’ve been living a different life than the one he had with you, but this is already getting better than the last. And you seem… into him? More into him than you were with your actual date, he’s not complaining.
By the time you and Leon go your separate ways, it’s pitch black outside, well, not really, it’s never completely dark in a city. The lights of driving cars and buildings illuminate you beautifully, like you’re something holy.
Leon finds a napkin with a phone number scribbled on it in his jacket pocket, it must’ve been yours, he couldn’t be happier.
Whatever higher being blessed him with another chance with you, he’d praise for the rest of eternal life. Because after a few hour-long phone calls and a couple more coincidental meetings, he’s taking you out on dates and you’re holding onto his arm and kissing his cheek.
It’s better than he remembers, the city offers more things for the two of you to do, and he’s up for anything you suggest.
Leon is finally able to feel your skin underneath his fingertips, feel your lips against his, listen to your voice in his ear, buy you nice things, have you cuddle up with him on the couch, he has you back.
You look so peaceful when you sleep, your head resting on his bicep, his naked skin pressed against yours. It’s been a year, you both still look the same, but he knows you’re changing. Leon hadn’t had sex in so long that he was sure that he would’ve fucked it up, you had taken charge, and it had been soft and slow, anyway. Nothing for him to worry about.
He’s been awake for an hour, just looking at you, trying to imprint this memory into his mind in case you were to disappear soon. But you finally start to stir, blinking your eyes a few times as you start to wake up.
“Leon…?” You mumble, he pulls you closer.
“Go back to sleep,” A kiss to your eyebrow, then the bridge of your nose, your lips twitch up into a sleepy smile.
“Mm… ‘kay. Love you.” You yawn, resting your hand on his chest as you close your eyes again and nestle into his shoulder. He hasn’t heard that from you in ages, he doesn’t know if you meant to say it, but he’s thankful you did.
“… Yeah, love you, too.”
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annabelle--cane · 6 months ago
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s1 jon after almost every statement: this is some made up bullshit by someone who was clearly just experiencing extreme sleep deprivation while probably traumatized and also probably intoxicated and also they just decided to lie for no reason because they hate Me Personally 🙄 ugh and here's the "investigation" that we had to waste our time doing. every day I pray for release.
s1 jon, when elias says he should avoid doing follow up on a statement where nothing explicitly supernatural even happened: I'm frothing at the mouth I'm being caged I'm being limited I'm being suppressed by THE MAN. when will justice be served?
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printedword · 4 months ago
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When he uses his official powers in any way, under the majority’s reasoning, he now will be insulated from criminal prosecution. Orders the Navy’s Seal Team 6 to assassinate a political rival? Immune. Organizes a military coup to hold onto power? Immune. Takes a bribe in exchange for a pardon? Immune. Immune, immune, immune. Let the President violate the law, let him exploit the trappings of his office for personal gain, let him use his official power for evil ends. Because if he knew that he may one day face liability for breaking the law, he might not be as bold and fearless as we would like him to be. That is the majority’s message today. Even if these nightmare scenarios never play out, and I pray they never do, the damage has been done. The relationship between the President and the people he serves has shifted irrevocably. In every use of official power, the President is now a king above the law. The majority’s single-minded fixation on the President’s need for boldness and dispatch ignores the countervailing need for accountability and restraint. The Framers were not so single-minded. In the Federalist Papers, after “endeavor[ing] to show” that the Executive designed by the Constitution “combines…all the requisites to energy,” Alexander Hamilton asked a separate, equally important question: “Does it also combine the requisites to safety, in a republican sense, a due dependence on the people, a due responsibility?” The Federalist No. 77 p. 507 (J. Harvard Library ed. 2009). The answer then was yes, based in part upon the President’s vulnerability to “prosecution in the common course of law.” Ibid. The answer after today is no. Never in the history of our Republic has a President had reason to believe that he would be immune from criminal prosecution if he used the trappings of his office to violate the criminal law. Moving forward, however, all former Presidents will be cloaked in such immunity. If the occupant of that office misuses official power for personal gain, the criminal law that the rest of us must abide will not provide a backstop. With fear for our democracy, I dissent.
— Justice Sotomayor, in her dissenting opinion
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thesirencult · 2 months ago
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Lunar Eclipse In Pisces, Tarot Reading
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@thesirencult
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Pile 1
“When a young tree is injured it grows around that injury. As the tree continues to develop, the wound becomes relatively small in proportion to the size of the tree. Gnarly burls and misshapen limbs speak of injuries and obstacles encountered through time and overcome. The way a tree grows around its past contributes to its exquisite individuality, character, and beauty. I certainly don't advocate for traumatization to build character, but since trauma is almost a given at some point in our lives, the image of the tree can be a valuable mirror.”
― Peter A. Levine, Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma
How Will This Eclipse Change You?
Pile 1, things will get worse for you, before they can become better. Right now, you have been going through a period of upheaval. You feel as if though you have to watch every step you take. There might be people around you who are praying for your downfall. This to me shows that you are someone who takes charges and like to lead the way, otherwise, these people wouldn't have a reason to be intimidated by you.
This eclipse will shake things up. Expect a confrontation with someone, especially at work. You will find out who is by your side and who isn't. Be careful. Retreat and don't fight back. Tigers don't compete with kittens, for they know their power.
You are someone who has "grown around their traumas". This eclipse prompts you to escape your "in-between" position and show your teeth by setting even higher goals. Take charge, travel if you need to and never lose faith. Become more vigilant but not aggresive.
Kittens can not and will not stop a tiger!
What New Era Is This Eclipse Ushering You Into?
This eclipse is doing all the work for you. If you take a break or travel for a while, expect a different setting when you return to your familiar environment. Justice came out. I don't know why, but I get the impression you are someone who tends to suffer quietly. You don't like to give attention to petty people and small things others may find annoying. Keep doing that, but work through it internally. The Justice card is ushering you into an era of getting paid back your good karma, while those who wronged you are getting served theirs.
Another thing I see, is that in this era you will realize that every action has consequences, be it good or bad. This will offer healing and make you think twice before you do everything. You are a calm, cool and collected individual who may struggle with setting boundaries and taking responsibility because you don't believe you are good enough. Expect things to fall into your lap and getting celebrated for past successes. Get over your "imposter syndrome". You deserve to be rightfully compensated,
Where Is It Asking You To Focus Your Energy?
Focus on raising your risk tolerance and lowering your tolerance for bullsh*t! You have great potential for success, so act accordingly. Any ideas about new ventures you should turn into plans. Find wholeness within and don't wait for external validation, be it about your self worth or plans. Overall, stand on your own and be like a tree that withstands the jarsh conditions by bending with the wind. You are strong enough to let the storm pass.
Pile 2
“Through transformation, the nervous system regains its capacity for self-regulation. Our emotions begin to lift us up rather than bring us down. They propel us into the exhilarating ability to soar and fly, giving us a more complete view of our place in nature. Our perceptions broaden to encompass a receptivity and acceptance of what is, without judgment. We are able to learn from our life experiences. Without trying to forgive, we understand that there is no blame. We often obtain a surer sense of self while becoming more resilient and spontaneous. This new self-assuredness allows us to re-lax, enjoy, and live life more fully. We become more in tune with the passionate and ecstatic dimensions of life.”
― Ann Frederick, Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma
How Will This Eclipse Change You?
This eclipse will make you sharper, quicker to act and ready to be strategic about your plans. After many trials and errors you have come to the conclusion that you're the only one who can change your life. You are becoming more stoic and pragmatic.
You are getting the bird's eye view, sitting high up in your throne like the queen/king you are.
I'm getting the message that clarity is here, not because of others but because of a change in your mindset that comes down to this: "I'm setting myself free from expectations and expecting. I'm choosing my battles wisely. I see things from a higher perspective."
Wisdom, truth and logic are the tools you are going to use to manifest your dream life.
From now on you will be guarding your heart and letting it rest for a while. Now, it's time for the sensitive heart to give the reigns to the cold head, just for now...
What New Era Is This Eclipse Ushering You Into?
This is perfect! I just saw a carousel on TikTok that talked about the "winter arc" and when it starts (October 1st). I'm getting that this eclipse is ushering you into your villain era/winter arc.
You are a very soft and caring person but you've had enough, haven't you? I'm not getting that in this era of your life you'll turn into a b*tch and go from one extreme to another. I'm getting that you'll simply use radical honesty with yourself, you'll cut out the fluff and use your empathy to empathize with the one who deserves it, YOURSELF.
I want you to know that after this much needed period you will see that only people with the beat intentions approach you. I'm not getting that you will be lonely, I'm getting that you will choose to keep your distance from toxicity. You may meet someone who is going after their goals too and you two become really great pals.
Where Is It Asking You To Focus Your Energy?
Very interesting...
First of all, share your gifts with the world cause this will lead you to material abundance. It's been reaffirmed that you are a generous and empathetic person. The Universe wants you to know that it's clearing out from your life those that are leeching off of your energy and are sticking around just to have a taste from the fruits of your flavour.
Since you will become more logical in this period of your life, you will see that certain people are better to be left in the past.
You need to focus your energy on making money, finding like minded souls who reciprocate your positive energy and also, SERVING karma. Be okay with being the villain in someone else's story. They wronged you first and now they just want to use you. Don't feel bad that you want them to watch you win, because they wanted to watch you lose.
Now, let them watch from the sidelines, while you are running towards success. It's going to be sweeter though, cause you will be so focused on the path ahead of you that you will not care about the bench sitters.
Take care !
Pile 3
“Every trauma provides an opportunity for authentic transformation. Trauma amplifies and evokes the expansion and contraction of psyche, body, and soul. It is how we respond to a traumatic event that determines whether trauma will be a cruel and punishing Medusa turning us into stone, or whether it will be a spiritual teacher taking us along vast and uncharted pathways. In the Greek myth, blood from Medusa’s slain body was taken in two vials; one vial had the power to kill, while the other had the power to resurrect. If we let it, trauma has the power to rob our lives of vitality and destroy it. However, we can also use it for powerful self-renewal and transformation. Trauma, resolved, is a blessing from a greater power.”
― Ann Frederick, Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma
How Will This Eclipse Change You?
As far as I can tell, Pile 3 needs to read both this pile and number 2! You are a complex person with lots of layers and reading both piles will help you gain two very distinct perspective on this next cycle taht will transform you COMPLETELY. It's not just about the eclipse, it's about the node change and the overall energy of the next 18-20 months. One of the two piles may not resonate right now, but in a few months or even a year it will be helpful to read it again for guidance.
The eclipse will change your perspective when it comes to your "all or nothing" attitude. Now, this change might have started already but what I see is that you will have a moment in the next month where you will realize that you have the ability to stand still while the world around you is moving. Before, you saw this as your inability to change and evolve but spirit wants you to know that you have the super power and luxury of following your own path. Your timing is way different than taht of others and your ability to move mountains while being still will help you advance in life. You see yourself as a walking contradiction but in reality, energy may manifest in different ways but its substance is the same. Stop beating yourself up and let your energy flow in different ways/wavelengths.
What New Era Is This Eclipse Ushering You Into?
You always get so close to the finish line but refuse to let go of the burdens so you never finish the race. The Universe is asking you to let go of expectations, negative beliefs and fear. Ask and you shall receive. Your options are confusing you, that's why they will fall away one by one. This new era is the era of shedding your new skin and of stripping down to the basics. You can not jump into cold water with clothes on, they won't help you even though they protect you at the shore, in the water they will weigh you down and you'll drown. Different things work at different phases, now it's a new phase and whatever was helpful before it's not working now. Paradigm shift.
Where Is It Asking You To Focus Your Energy?
Know that your life is headed towards a beautiful direction and trust your inner compass to lead you to this destination. Focus on improving your skillset and mindset and let yourself prepare for abundance. This next chapter is all about sharpening up before we climb the mountain. Thinl about it, if you had to climb up Everest wouldn't you want to be as prepared as possible. This last hump on the road is just a preview of the mountains you will climb.
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pinkestofpanthers · 3 months ago
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here's more logan thoughts of mine...
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having to explain to logan that there's a common belief among people that if you're able to tie a knot into the stem of a maraschino cherry, that you must be a good kisser.
in your defense, it was all pretty innocent. logan found himself stumbling into the kitchen and noticed you standing at the counter with rogue nearby. placed out in front of the both of you were two glasses filled halfway with ice, two cans of ginger ale, a bottle of grenadine, and a small jar of maraschino cherries. before he could even say it, you recognized him lurking and spoke,
"shirley temples. rogue mentioned how she hasn't had one in forever and i decided to play bartender tonight," you grinned and cracked open the can of soda.
"i see. you make it with ginger ale?" he asked, eyes glancing to the can in your hand.
"that's how they were originally made. ginger ale, some grenadine, and a couple of cherries to add more flavor. want one?" though you asked nicely, he declined the offer and made his way to the fridge.
"you know," he said, rummaging through the fridge, "i heard shirley temple herself didn't even like the drink. also heard they never served it to her."
rogue chuckled to herself as she spooned cherries out of the jar. "of course you would know, you were probably there when they first invented it," she laughs. you tried to hold back your laughter as you looked to logan, who just waved the girl off and made some comment about her being too young to know who shirley temple was.
suddenly, rogue's attention was turned to you, as she called your name and asked if she could ask you 'something silly'. of course, you nodded, listening to whatever the girl had to say next.
"do you know how to tie a cherry stem with your tongue?" she looked to you as she twirled a stem between her pointer finger and thumb.
your eyes went wide, trying to think of a response. you didn't know exactly why she was asking. was she genuinely curious, or was she going to follow up by asking if you heard of the 'is it true that if you're able to tie a cherry stem with your tongue than it means you're a good kisser?' myth.
you tell her that you can't remember if you ever tried to. after all, you don't necessarily eat the cherries for the stems.
"makes sense. apparently only fifteen percent of people are able to do it," she shot back, now discarding the stem into the garbage.
"where did you even hear that?" you turned to her, as she just shrugged and grabbed a straw for her glass.
"is that the new party trick now? tying cherry stems with our tongues?" logan clears his throat, as he makes his way to sit down across from the two of you.
"you're old enough to know the shirley temple didn't like the drink named after her, but you don't know about tying cherry stems with your tongue?" she deadpanned.
logan, looking confused as ever, is trying to make sense of what she's saying but after a while, rogue realizes the can of worms she's opened has just led to more confusion and regrets even asking about it. she excuses herself from the kitchen, mumbling something about going to find bobby, and left you alone to work on your drink. you couldn't help but notice how logan was staring at your every move.
"i'm still confused," he spoke up after sitting in silence for a few minutes. you knew exactly what he was talking about, it wasn't as if any other conversation had taken place within the time that rogue left the kitchen, so you decided to clue him in.
"just a stupid little rumor someone made up, a common idea that if you know how to tie a cherry stem with your tongue then you must be a really good kisser," you explained, taking a cherry out of the jar and popping it in your mouth. he responds with a 'hm' and watches as you take the stem and put it in your mouth. after a minute of praying that your high school memories would serve you justice, you grabbed the cherry stem from between your teeth, showing logan the knot you made.
his expression remains the same as he looks at you, then the stem being held in the palm of your hand, and to you again. he smirks, and that's when he questions,
"but it's just a myth, right?"
"i mean, i've never put the theory to the test. you wanna see for yourself?" you try him, thinking he would just laugh you off and continue to joke about it. his response this time being clearer than before,
"i was only hoping you would ask, hun."
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p.s., i tried posting this on another account and for some reason tumblr did not push it??? wtf, anyways, here you go. thanks for the love on the last little blurb i posted!
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thewordfortheday · 3 months ago
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Our Sovereign LORD, Creator of heaven and earth, who by Your word sustains the universe, we lift our great nation and its people before You.Thank You for the peace we have despite the vast diversity in culture, caste, and language. We pray for the protection and security of all the people of our nation. May Your peace that surpasses all understanding guard the hearts and minds of Your children through Christ Jesus our Lord. We pray that the church and the leaders hold fast to Jesus Christ and may their faith in You, O God, be strong and steadfast. We pray that You will grant those who are serving You, courage and strength as they face various types of persecution and threats. 
Lord, we pray for the leaders in the Centre and the States. We ask You to grant them wisdom and guidance so that they will lead the nation toward peace and justice., that they may alleviate poverty and work towards the welfare of the nation.
Forgive the sins of our nation and heal our Land.
We pray that You would make our nation a blessing to the world.
We ask all these in the name of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. Amen!
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labbaik-ya-hussain-as · 11 months ago
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husbandohunter · 1 year ago
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Two Shades of the Same Color
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Synopsis: Protecting the law and protecting his family. The line seperating them were like two shades of the same color. Wriothesley just didn't know it yet.
Genre: Wriothesley x Reader, gender neutral pronouns, Reader and Wriothesley have a daughter
(A/n): this is my offering to the gacha gods praying for an early Wrio to come home 😔===============================
The Duke of Meropide often finds himself conflicted in the different roles he has to play.
In the daytime he carried his duty as the Warden. Having served his sentence through the years he was in prison, Wriothesley was appointed to be a suitable candidate now managing Fontaine's most notorious Fortress, guarding wanted criminals, convicts, and what justice deems guilty. Both feared and respected by them, it was quite an intresting story how he got into this rank. But he also didn't dislike his occupation. Perhaps due to this self-proclaimed 'rough around the edge' personality, he believed the prison wasn't so far disconnected from his nature.
"Wolf-ears, wolf-ears, daddy has wolf ears!" A sweet voice sang before imitating a growl sound.
Aaand there were those who really  disconnected him from his 'nature'. Wriothesley sighs as he rub his forehead, clutching a stack of unsigned papers while the girl pulled the little tuffs in his hair.
Your five year old daughter came home one day, announcing that the class had been given an assignment.
Two things arise in his head. First off, why are they already giving assignments to children? Shouldn't they be learning their alphabets and make crafts or something? Second, why does it have to involve taking your kid to work?!!
You failed to stifle a laughter at the sight, the poor man silently hoping that you would do something, "Come down little one. You wouldn't want to accidentally fall over now, would you?"
The girl shook her head, avoiding your attempt to hold her and squeezed her small legs around his shoulders, "Don't stop me! Mari wants to stay up here."
"But he's going to get tired if you keep shaking like that," you suggested, placing both hands on your hips.
Mari huffs, "That's up for daddy to decide. Right, daddy?"
You quirked an eyebrow and glanced at your husband who seemed to be under a lot of pressure. What can he do? When his daughter stares at him with her toothy grin and gleaming eyes that looks just like his own?
Helpless at her whims, he pleads silently, urging for your aid once again.
"Sorry honey," you shrugged and tilted to the side, "I tried."
"Oh really?," the man doubts, "Then why are you smiling like that?"
Wriothesley wasn't sure how he got into this mess in the beginning. Actually, wait. He did. He just...didn't want to admit it.
The initial answer to Mari's request was a no brainer. Allowing his little babydoll Marigold through the walls of Meropide was something he stricly forbade until she reached thirty years old. A reasonable negotiation, he thought. Not even the gossips plastered all over the Steambird newspaper would be discussed at the dinner table. The man vowed to keep his work life and family life seperate the day she was born.
"Why don't you go find them to help you with your homework?"
"I work at the Fortress too, silly."
Well-- maybe not you since the two of you met here, but that's different. Rules are laws and laws shouldn't be broken. There's a reason why order is meant to be taken seriously in Fontaine. And of course, in his house too.
Then you proceed to say-- it's because you keep spoiling her! Which he retorts, "I'm not spoiling her, I'm just making sure she has a fun childhood, that's all."
"Uh huh, you sure do a great job at it officer, maybe a little too well," you tease, wrapping your arms around your burly husband and nuzzled against his cheek.
Fits of giggles came from above, Mari starts rocking back and forth, "Now give him a biiiiig kiss!"
"Alright alright, that's enough you two," Wriothesley caught hold of his wiggling daughter and settled her down on the floor. Seriously, he could hardly focus. Wriothesley had planned to make his routine as boring as possible so she would leave and he could go about his day. It seems the man terribly underestimated the fact Mari had a penchant of finding entertainment. Should've been obvious that he would be the center of it.
"Can we go downstairs now? I want to see where the machines are working," Mari declares and throws her hands up in excitement.
Wriothesley clears his throat, "What did I say earlier about going downstairs?"
"It's not safe for ages under thirteen and only for members who are given permission because they're criminals," Mari sheepishly repeats.
"Aaaannd?"
"You're not allowed to abuse your authority or give me special treatment because the Warden must be fair and respect the rules from the Fortress of Marinetide, treating everyone equally."
"That's my girl," he nods with a grin. Though the pronounciation can use a little tweaking. Eh, he'll let it slide.
"Don't you think you're exaggerating a bit too much? The working grounds aren't that bad, even Sigewinne takes her strolls there during her breaktime," you chime in.
"Who's Sigewinne?"
The man expresses what seems like his version of a pout. Though you can never miss the small upturn slivering the corner of his mouth, "I'm starting to get the feeling that you enjoy seeing me like this."
"Nonsense," you lean on his shoulder, "I'm just admiring how much of a loving father my daughter has."
They're coaxing me into something, "No means no."
Wriothesley glances at Mari who had still been persisting him with pleads and questions. The reason why he wanted to keep his work life and family life sperate was because prison, in general, can shape a person entirely. Whether for good or worse  depends on the individual, she was far too young to be exposed at the kind of stories and complex reasonings people would have. Wriothesley knew very well that nothing is black and white. Perhaps from growing up in this kind of world, he wanted to know, to see, to let an innocent child experience life far differently than he did. Because now, he had a choice.
"I already know what you're thinking, it's written all over your face," breaking him out of his thoughts, you gently spoke to his ear, "Not everyday our little Mari gets to spend time with her father like this. She was so happy when the teacher said it was going to be a 'take your kid to work day' assignment,  you know?"
"I'd rather keep the details behind closed doors. There's not much that can be said outside the reputation everyone knows of," he reasons, "Besides, Sigewinne is the only exception because she's the head nurse. This little fellow here can hardly prounouce Meropide."
"Hey! That's not true. If I practice long and hard I can speak as perfectly as the papers on your desk!"
"Oh? You know what that's a great idea. How about we spend the day practicing your alphabets? We could also read the Boar Princess while we're at it," the Duke happily suggested.
"Wriothesley," you chide lightly, "As long as you're with her I'm sure there will be nothing to worry about," then you crouched down to Mari's height, "Right sweetie?"
"Yeah! Daddy is the strongest and smartest man in all of Fontaine!" She jumps up and down, "He can even lift me even when I'm wearing a backpack!"
Wriothesley eyes you both suspiciously, "I see how it is. Sounds like you two are teaming up."
"I like to call it a coincidential agreement," you tugged him at the arm and lead towards the stairwell, "Come on. Take the day off and let me handle the paperwork. Wouldn't want to keep the fun waiting, would you?"
Your husband folds his arms and scoffs, "A day off?"
"By the courtesy of Chief Justice Neuvillette himself," you responded.
Ah, they had it all planned out, "Astounding effort on your part, I suppose."
"Please, daddy? I swear I'll behave and not do anything to make you mad," Mari twiddles her thumbs, "Pleeease?"
Wriothesley closes his eyes, a habit he acquired during situations such as this. Well, looks like he was fighting a losing battle anyways. Maybe you were right. He was spoiling her.
"Fine. Only under one condition. You have to-"
"Call me 'Your Grace'!" She salutes immediately, " Oh, I mean...you, Your Grace."
Wriothesley glances at your way again and you merely returned a shrug. He smiles amusedly.
They really had it all planned out. 
•••
When Wriothesley stepped out of his office, he was slowly starting to regret his decision.
Mari, being far too excited for her own good, already bounced a few metres ahead. He sometimes wondered where she gets her energy from. For newcomers, they easily wear out before they become used to things. Ah, that's right, I have to make sure she doesn't disturb the inmates. If this keeps going then who knows where she might end up. Archons forbid it'd be the Pankration Ring.
"Up you go," for now, Wriothesley scoops her into his hold, having the girl seated on one forearm and the other supporting her weight. Until she calms down, at least.
"Mari is reporting for duty," she salutes again.
Wriothesley lets out a chuckle, "Since when did I ever act like a Marechaussee Hunter? Wait, let me guess, you snuck to see Clorinde."
Guilty as charged. The little girl slaps a hand over her mouth, "Whoopsies."
"I'm joking. I actually didn't think you snuck out to see Clorinde," he smugly states, "Well well looks like my little culprit reveals herself."
She huffs, "Heyyy, that's cheating."
"Sorry babydoll, but I think I win this one," Wriothesley boops her nose in a playful manner and allowed Mari to stand on her own two feet, "So, are you ready for a tour around the Fortress of Meropide?"
"Where are we headed first, Your Grace?" She chirped, eyes blown wide like she was on a sugar rush from last time.
Wriothesley raised a scarred brow, "Oh you're letting me decide? In that case you'll just have to wait and see for yourself."
"Yay, I love surprises!"
Even better. This way, he can guarantee that she won't wander off to places she shouldn't be in, no one should be in.
Lunch hour was approaching and the inmates were already finishing up their shifts. He could feel the frequent looks being thrown from the cafeteria, already knowing it will be the hot topic for the next few days or weeks.
Right, then there's this part I have to deal with.
It didn't help that the man's presence alone had the same affect under normal circumstances. Seeing their Warden with a babbling little girl was rather jarring. Mari was...how should he put it, good at stealing the spotlight. So much she easily attracted all the attention from the locals. Wriothesley had never knew someone could be so pestering that it became endearing. Other than you of course. Heh, I guess that's one of many things they have in common.
He doesn't try to hide the smile softening at his features.
"C-Could that be His Grace and..."
Welp, looks like the hot topic is already cooking. Wriothesley pays no mind. There's nothing wrong with being open about his family in front of other people at least. Just because he had a reputation as the Warden to keep doesn't rob him the identity of being a father.
His mind suddenly drifts back to you. Is that why you were so insistent about this earlier?
"Daddy, everyone is looking at us funny."
The word 'daddy' does not escape those around him, percise as a radar and pointed sharply at his direction. Wriothesley expected as much. Actually, he was more surpised she even managed to remember the honorifics for this long, "Ah who cares. Let them do their thing. Anyways, didn't you say you wanted to see how the machines worked?"
A pause before she breaks out into a wide, beaming grin, "Yeah!"
"Then hold on tight," without a warning, Wriothesley lifts her until she was settled on his shoulders and ran as fast as he could, away from the crowd.
•••
"Was that...the Duke just now?"
A confused inmate, still processing at what he just saw, allowed the bitten meal in his hand fall to the plate.
"Who knew His Grace had a soft spot," Another one snickers.
Wolsey who had been tending to the dishes behind the counter exhales exasperatedly, "His Grace ought to be more careful with his actions around others next time."
•••
The shaft doors open to reveal the upper level of the production zone. Wriothesley exits first before gently taking the girl's hand as she shuffled down the two stairs. Thankfully the area had been emptied, except for a few supervisors, it was much more peaceful compared to the cafeteria.
"Wooooahh looks at all those meks!" She ogled. Meks was her way of saying gardemeks. Spending time with a five year old made him more keen to the language innuendos they create, "It's like one gigantic gear working together."
"Not just gears sweetheart, the people here are responsible for making sure ever part of the machine is functioning. Without them, there would be no clockworks you see in the surface," Wriothesley opens a palm while he explains, "I know most of your classmates only think of them as criminals, but criminals have been working for honest income."
"Does that mean the same criminals are now helping to make meks that catches more criminals and keep Fontaine safe?"
The man pauses, thinking for a moment, "You could say that."
"Hmmm," Mari looks down pensively, trying to put two and two together, "So if criminals are honest people, how did they end up in here?"
"Well uhhh... " Wriothesley breathes out quietly. It's complicated. Sometimes he doubts if the word criminal is even a proper label. Becoming a criminal isn't always by choice, some are just born into it, eventually going down a path because there was no where else to go. And the few who escape are the lucky ones, "Ah very tricky, sweetheart. Don't tell me you're here trying to get ideas."
The mischeivious expression he gave her made Mari gasp in disbelief, "I would never break the law daddy!"
"Are you sure?" He insists with jest.
"Yes, and I promised a hundred thousand times already," she emphasized.
Wriothesley pats her lightly on the head. Although his hands were calloused and scared, they carried the weight of a loving father, "Good. I know you'd do the right thing."
From the corner of his eye, he spotted a familiar silouette dressed in pastel colors. Sigewinne had been speaking with Grainville at the Operation and Widget equipment. As you mentioned earlier, the head nurse pays frequent visits to check upon the health conditions of inmates. For the Duke, it was natural that he'd want to know if there was anything he should be concerned about. But now is not the time. He didn't want to drag his daughter when this was meant to be a fun activity of theirs.
"What's that over there?!" She scurries off without a warning, specifically at the direction he was glancing earlier.
Or we can just check it out anyways. Wriothesley thought to himself, using his hands to prop against his knee, standing upright so he could catch up with Mari.
The Melusine was the first to notice, "Your Grace? I'm seeing you everywhere these days. I hope you haven't been swarmed with too much to do."
It's true that Wriothesley had been more present in his timing. The Primordial Sea issue was something he wanted to be resolved as soon as possible, "I'm actually doing just fine, thank you Sigewinne."
"Y-Your Grace. I'm surprised to see you here. Are there any newcomers I must train?" Now it was Grainville's turn to intervene, "Oh, and who's this?"
"Sigewinne?? That's the nurse, daddy?" Mari exclaims, baffled as she compares her height with the other, "Why is she so small like me? Did she get hit by the short disease?"
Jeez. Children can really run around without a filter these days.
"She may be small but a lot more older than she looks," Wriothesley reasons, gentle and firm, "Aren't you forgetting something? In front of you, these people have greeted us the moment we came by. What's the right thing to do, Mari?"
It took some time for her to realize but she perks up as soon as she did. Flustered, the young lass dips herself into a low curtsy, head following suit that her hat fell to the floor, "Good afternoon. My name is Mari. I'm five years old. Nice to meet you all."
Wriothesley maintains a straight face and picks up her hat. On the inside, he could feel his heart squeezing. No matter how many tries you practiced with her, she still doesn't get it quite right. Totally his fault. He never scolds her for it.
"Hello Mari, my name's Sigewinne and I'm the head nurse," the melusine beams, "Though I'm a bit surprised, Your Grace. I thought [Name] said you didn't want to bring your daughter here."
Quick, he had to make an excuse before, "Ah, that's--"
"That's because daddy is awesome and he cares about us so much!"
Urk.
Sigewinne's countenance suggested she caught on that the Warden had a weak spot for his overly coddled daughter, "I see. You're fortunate to have such good parents, Mari. His Grace had put in great effort to ensure the safety and well-being of the Fortress. It's probably why everyone is quite satisfied with living here."
"I know," Mari nods with agreement, "Since daddy does the same thing at home."
Warmth spreads inside his chest and the glaciers of the man's gaze thaws enough for one to notice. Did she truly feel that way? Somehow, for a long time, he didn't think it was enough.
"It's true. His Grace doesn't ostracize anyone and gives them an equal chance of a better life," Grainville added.
Wriothesley crosses his arms and returns a quipped stare, "Indeed. Though I'm afraid flattery will get you as far as none. Best get to work."
Grainville salutes, "Yes, Your Grace!"
"Wait daddy, can I stay and watch?" Mari tugs the hem of his fur coat, "When I go to school tomorrow, I can tell all my friends all the cool things we did today."
He straightens his posture, "No."
"But daddyyyyyyy."
Here we go again. Except this time, the man will avoid all eye contact. Maybe he can try getting earplugs next time, which of course, must be slipped on discreetly so she wouldn't notice. If you were here, he'd be getting an earful of the same conversation he had in the office. Equipment processors can be dangerous to use if something suddenly screws loose. Who knows what might happen?
Though a father can only resist so much and he couldn't ignore her forever. Wriothesley relaxes his shoulders, the crease in his forehead fading, "Are you sure you can be careful?"
"Careful is my middlename!"
"Grainville," Wriothesley commands. Authority drips from his voice that the supervisor nearly flinched from his place, "Check if there's any malfunction in Operations and Widget equipment. I expect a thorough search once I get return from lunch."
Without a moment hesitation, Grainville executes his task as if his life depends on it.
"Daddy, can we go buy some food?" Mari looks up, "I want Fonta!"
"No junk food until you eat properly," though now she mentions it, he is craving a cup of tea by now.
Walking out of the shaft once more, Wriothesley takes another look at the environment surrounding the cafeteria, through a different lens than the last. He recalls his first day. Young, brash, and full of poor judgement. They were not the best memories, but they were certainly memories.
How things have changed. For the better, as it should. To Wriothesley, that was probably the most important aspect of all. He likes seeing signs of strength and hope, reassuring him that tomorrow will be a better day. Though he made peace with the present constantly filling him with doubt. Can the same progress be as steady as he wanted?
He thought about what you said. Then the words he heard from others. The Fortress of Meropide had improved to the point it could function autonomously. On top of that, he received high praise from both surface dwellers and those who lived in the underworld. What drives him to maintain this environment stems from his past. The good and the bad. The mistakes and lessons. The two shades of the same color blurred into one.
"Daddy, I just want to tell you, I had so much fun today. Thank you for bringing me here!"
And if those experiences of his could ensure that his daughter could live a safe and peaceful childhood, then that's everything he can ask for.
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dee-writes-anime · 2 months ago
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Love Me, Let Me Go, Keep Me
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FEATURING Yuta Okkotsu x Reader, Toge Inumaki x Reader
SUMMARY Why is it that men only realize what they want when they can't have it?
CONTENT WARNINGS fluff, angst (justice for inumaki), childhood best friends to lovers, yuta being jelly
AUTHORS NOTE enjoy the word vomit I've served you! #justiceforinumaki
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It was one of those late afternoons where the sun lingered lazily in the sky, casting a golden hue across the campus of Jujutsu High. The breeze carried the smell of blooming flowers and the distant sound of birds, but Yuta felt none of it. He had just returned from a mission, his body still weary, though his thoughts were full of a different kind of exhaustion.
You had always been his constant—his childhood best friend, the one person who knew him before the darkness, before curses. Your friendship had been the one thing that never changed, no matter how much the world twisted around you both. But lately, something was different. You seemed lighter, like something had shifted in your heart, but Yuta couldn’t quite place what it was.
As he made his way to the courtyard, his eyes scanned the familiar paths, hoping to spot you. He had been looking forward to this moment all day—to hear your laugh, to see the way your eyes crinkled when you teased him. You had been his refuge, his anchor, and he couldn’t wait to spend time with you.
But when he found you, you weren’t alone.
His footsteps faltered as he saw you sitting under a tree, a familiar figure beside you. Inumaki Toge. The two of you sat close, your bodies angled toward each other in a way that made Yuta's heart stutter. Inumaki was speaking in his usual cryptic, yet oddly endearing, speech, and you laughed—a sound that usually warmed Yuta’s chest now felt like a weight pressing down on it.
Yuta watched as Inumaki gently reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The motion was soft, intimate. And the way you smiled at him, that look in your eyes—Yuta had never seen you look at anyone like that. Not even him.
He felt the world tilt.
You were dating him. Inumaki.
His mind tried to piece together every little clue, every moment you had seemed happier, more distracted. He should’ve known. He should’ve seen it. The late-night texts, the quiet giggles, the way you always seemed to light up when Inumaki was around. But he had ignored it, because the idea of you with someone else—especially someone as close as Inumaki—was something he couldn’t bear to face.
Yuta's hands clenched into fists at his sides, his breath catching in his throat as the realization settled in. You were happy. Happier than he had ever seen you. And that should have been enough for him—your happiness. But why did it hurt so much?
He forced himself to take a step back, his shoes scuffing against the pavement. The sound must have caught your attention because you looked up, eyes widening when you saw him. For a moment, your smile faltered, uncertainty flickering in your expression.
“Yuta!” You called out his name, waving him over, your voice full of the same warmth you always had for him. But this time, it felt distant. Like something was standing between you.
Yuta swallowed, forcing a smile as he walked toward you. His heart hammered in his chest, and he prayed that neither of you could see how much this moment was shattering him. “Hey,” he greeted, his voice rougher than usual, but he managed to keep it steady. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Inumaki gave a soft nod, his eyes calm as always, but Yuta could see the subtle way his hand rested on your knee, as if anchoring you to him. As if he knew, too, what this moment meant.
You shifted slightly, clearing your throat, and though you tried to act like everything was normal, Yuta could see the nervousness in your eyes. “No, you’re not interrupting at all,” you said quickly, a little too quickly. “Actually, I was just going to tell you… Toge and I… We’re… We’re dating.”
You said it softly, as if afraid of how Yuta would react. But the words felt like a punch to the gut, knocking the air out of his lungs. He had already known, of course, but hearing it—hearing you say it—was different.
For a moment, Yuta stood there, frozen, as if time itself had stopped. He looked at you, then at Inumaki, and something inside him twisted painfully. He wanted to be happy for you, he really did. But all he could feel was the sharp ache of something breaking inside his chest.
“Wow,” Yuta finally managed, forcing a laugh that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s… That’s great. I’m happy for you.” The lie tasted bitter on his tongue, but he swallowed it down. This wasn’t about him. It was about you, and if being with Inumaki made you happy, then he had to accept that.
You smiled, but there was a flicker of concern in your gaze, as if you could sense the tension in him. “Thanks, Yuta. I wanted to tell you sooner, but… I wasn’t sure how to…”
“It’s fine,” Yuta cut you off gently, not wanting you to feel guilty. He could feel the weight of Inumaki’s eyes on him, steady and knowing, but Yuta couldn’t bring himself to look at him. Not now. “I get it.”
The silence that followed was heavy, filled with all the unspoken words Yuta didn’t know how to say. He wanted to tell you how much you meant to him, how much he wished things were different. But instead, he just stood there, a smile plastered on his face, feeling more distant from you than ever before.
And for the first time, Yuta realized that no matter how much he cared for you, no matter how much he had hoped—he had lost you.
To Inumaki. To your happiness.
And it broke him.
Yuta’s chest tightened as the silence stretched on, and he felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He should’ve said something—anything—to fill the void, but the words were caught in his throat, tangled in the emotions he didn’t want to face. Your eyes stayed on him, searching his expression, and he wondered if you could see the cracks forming beneath his careful facade.
Inumaki shifted beside you, subtly straightening as though sensing the undercurrent of tension that rippled between you and Yuta. His usual calm remained, though Yuta noticed the protective way his fingers drummed lightly against your leg, like he was ready to shield you from whatever might come next.
“I guess you guys are spending a lot of time together then, huh?” Yuta asked, his voice sounding strangely distant, even to himself. He tried to keep it casual, but his heart ached with every syllable. He already knew the answer, but asking somehow made it feel more real.
You nodded, a shy smile tugging at your lips as you glanced at Inumaki, and the look you shared sent a sharp pang through Yuta’s chest. “Yeah… It’s been nice. We’ve been keeping it quiet for a while, just to figure things out, you know?”
There it was again—that happiness radiating from you. It should’ve brought Yuta peace, knowing that someone he trusted was the one making you smile like that. But all he could think about was the distance that seemed to grow wider between you with every passing second.
The breeze picked up, rustling the leaves above, and Yuta felt a chill despite the warmth of the setting sun. He forced himself to meet your gaze, though it felt like a herculean effort just to keep his voice steady. “I’m glad… that you’re happy.”
You beamed at him, your expression softening with relief, but Yuta could see the flicker of uncertainty still lingering in your eyes. “Yuta, you’re okay with this, right?” Your voice was gentle, concerned, and the care in it almost undid him.
He wanted to tell you the truth, to let the raw honesty spill out, but he couldn’t. Not when you looked at him like that—with that same kindness you always had. It made him want to be better, stronger. So he nodded, his smile still in place, even as his chest ached with the weight of it. “Of course. You deserve to be with someone who makes you happy.”
The words felt hollow, but they were all he had to give.
You reached out then, your hand brushing his arm, a familiar touch that once brought him comfort. But now it only reminded him of everything that had changed. “You mean so much to me, Yuta,” you said softly, your voice full of sincerity. “I hope you know that.”
Yuta swallowed hard, nodding again as his throat tightened. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know.”
Inumaki stood quietly beside you, his presence steady and unintrusive, yet Yuta could feel the unspoken understanding between them. Inumaki wasn’t oblivious to Yuta’s feelings. How could he be? They were too close, too intertwined in each other’s lives for something like this to go unnoticed. But there was no malice in Inumaki’s gaze, no smugness—only quiet empathy.
Yuta appreciated that, even if it didn’t ease the ache in his heart.
He cleared his throat, trying to shake off the heaviness that lingered between them. “Well, I should probably get going,” Yuta said, glancing away as he took a step back. “I’ve still got some things to take care of.”
Your brow furrowed slightly, concern flashing in your eyes. “Already? I thought we could hang out for a bit.”
The offer was tempting. Part of him wanted nothing more than to sit down with you, to pretend that things hadn’t changed, that everything was as it used to be. But he knew better. Being near you, seeing you with Inumaki—it was too much, too raw. He needed space to figure out how to process it all.
“Yeah, I… I just remembered I’ve got some paperwork to finish up for Gojo-sensei,” Yuta lied, hating himself for it. “But we’ll catch up soon, I promise.”
You opened your mouth as if to protest, but then you hesitated, sensing that something was off. Still, you gave a small nod, though your worry was evident. “Okay… But don’t be a stranger, alright?”
Yuta’s smile wavered, but he forced himself to hold it. “Never.”
With that, he turned away, his steps heavy as he walked back toward the school building. Each step felt like it was dragging him further away from the life he had once known. A life where you and he were just Yuta and his best friend. No complications. No heartbreak.
His chest tightened as he made his way through the courtyard, the laughter and distant chatter of other students buzzing around him, though it all seemed to blur into a meaningless hum. The evening light grew dimmer, casting long shadows across the ground, and Yuta felt like one of them—fading, lost in the background.
Once he was far enough from the courtyard, Yuta finally let the smile fall from his face, his expression crumpling as the emotions he had been holding back crashed over him. He leaned against the wall, the cool stone grounding him as he took a deep breath, trying to steady the storm raging inside him.
You were with Inumaki now. That was the reality. And no matter how much Yuta wished things were different, he couldn’t change that.
But as much as it hurt, he knew he had to let you go.
He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against the stone as he forced himself to accept the truth. You were happy. And that was all that mattered.
Even if it meant that Yuta had to break a little in the process.
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The days following Yuta’s quiet retreat turned into weeks, and soon a month had slipped by. Each day felt like a slow unraveling, the thread of your friendship with Yuta pulling thinner and thinner until it was barely there, frayed at the edges. You tried to pretend things were normal at first, convinced that the growing distance was just a phase—something that would pass once the shock wore off. But it never did.
Yuta was slipping away.
It began subtly, with missed texts and short replies. Where once he would have responded to your messages within minutes, now hours passed before you saw his name pop up on your screen, and when it did, his responses were painfully polite, almost impersonal.
“Hey, Yuta, want to grab dinner later?” “Sorry, I’ve got a lot of work to finish up.”
The excuses piled up like bricks between you, forming a wall that grew higher with each passing day. And the more you tried to reach out, the more Yuta seemed to pull back, always just out of reach.
It wasn’t like him—not the Yuta you knew. The Yuta you grew up with was warm, kind, always ready with a smile or a joke to lift your spirits. You had been each other’s constant, no matter what life threw your way. But now, it felt like he was turning into a ghost, a distant shadow of the friend you once knew.
And it hurt. More than you had expected it to.
In the quiet moments, when you were alone with your thoughts, the hurt festered, leaving you with a heavy ache in your chest that wouldn’t go away. You had Toge, and your relationship with him brought you happiness—real happiness. But Yuta’s absence left a hollow space that nothing else could fill. You missed him—missed his laugh, his voice, the way he could make even the worst days seem bearable just by being there.
But he wasn’t there anymore.
There were moments when you tried to talk to him, to break through the walls he had put up. But every attempt was met with the same empty responses, the same awkward smiles. When you saw him on campus, he avoided eye contact, his gaze sliding past you like you were just another face in the crowd. It felt like a slap every time.
The worst part was not understanding why.
You had thought Yuta would be happy for you—happy that you had found someone who made you smile the way Toge did. But instead, it felt like you had lost your best friend, and the more you tried to figure out why, the more lost you felt.
There was a particular afternoon, nearing the end of the month, when you finally hit your breaking point. It had been another long day, the weight of Yuta’s absence pressing down on you more heavily than ever. The courtyard was quieter than usual, the sky tinged with the deep colors of sunset as you sat on the edge of a stone bench, your phone gripped tightly in your hand.
You stared at the screen, at the last message you had sent Yuta two days ago. No response. Again. The knot in your chest tightened, and without thinking, you pressed his name and waited as the phone rang.
One ring. Two rings. Three rings.
It felt like hours before the call finally clicked, and you heard his voice on the other end, distant and cool. “Hey.”
Just that. Hey. No warmth, no familiar teasing. Just the sound of someone who didn’t want to be on the phone.
“Yuta,” you began, your voice shakier than you intended. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “Can we talk? Please? It’s been… it’s been a while.”
There was a long pause on the other end, the silence stretching out so long you almost thought he hung up. Then, finally, he spoke. “I’ve just been really busy.”
“Busy,” you repeated, your frustration rising. “You’re always busy now. You barely even look at me when we pass each other, and I don’t understand why.” Your words spilled out, the hurt you had been holding back for weeks finally bubbling to the surface. “Did I do something wrong? Is it because of Toge? I just—” Your voice broke. “I miss you, Yuta.”
Another silence, this one more painful than the last.
When Yuta finally spoke, his voice was quiet, almost hesitant. “I’m sorry. It’s just… things are different now.”
Different. The word hit you like a punch to the gut. You had known things were different, but hearing him say it out loud made it real, undeniable. The distance between you wasn’t just imagined. It was there, and Yuta was acknowledging it.
“Why does it have to be different?” you asked, your voice trembling. “We’ve been through everything together. I don’t understand why this is any different.”
Yuta sighed, the sound heavy with something you couldn’t quite name—regret, maybe, or something deeper. “I don’t know. It just is.”
Your heart ached at the finality in his tone. This wasn’t the Yuta you knew. The Yuta you knew would have fought for your friendship, would have told you what was wrong, would have let you in. But this Yuta—the one on the other end of the line—felt like a stranger.
The air around you felt colder, the weight of the past month settling heavily on your shoulders. “I just… I miss you,” you repeated, softer this time, your voice almost breaking. “I miss my best friend.”
For a moment, you thought you heard something in Yuta’s voice—something that hinted at the old Yuta, the one who cared, the one who missed you too. But when he spoke again, his words were gentle but distant. “I’m sorry,” he said, and that was all. No promise to make things right, no explanation for why he had pulled away. Just an apology, hollow and empty.
Tears stung your eyes, but you blinked them back, swallowing the lump in your throat. You didn’t want to cry, not now, not when you were still clinging to the hope that maybe, just maybe, he would come back to you.
But as the silence stretched on, you realized that hope was slipping through your fingers like sand.
“Okay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I guess… I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah,” Yuta murmured, the word hanging in the air like a ghost of what used to be. “See you around.”
The call ended with a soft click, but the echo of his voice stayed with you long after, a reminder of what you had lost.
You sat there for a long time, staring at the phone in your hand, the empty space beside you feeling even more hollow than before. The sun sank lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the courtyard, and you wondered if the Yuta you knew was lost in those shadows too, slipping further and further away from you with every passing day.
And no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t pull him back.
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It was raining the day you finally decided you couldn’t take it anymore. The steady downpour mirrored the ache inside you, the weeks of silence, missed calls, and half-hearted excuses building up until you were drowning in them. Yuta’s absence was like a wound that wouldn’t heal, and every day, the distance between you only deepened the cut.
You were done with it. Done waiting for him to come back, done pretending that everything was okay. You needed answers.
The campus was quiet in the rain, students moving quickly to get out of the weather, and you were soaked by the time you found him—leaning against a stone wall outside the training center, staring blankly into the distance. His hair was wet, strands plastered to his forehead, and his uniform clung to his body from the rain. He looked as distant and lost as you felt, but that only fueled the fire in your chest.
He didn’t even notice you approach until you were right in front of him, your heart pounding in your chest, anger, hurt, and confusion swirling together into a storm of emotion that you could no longer hold back.
“Yuta!” you called out, your voice sharp and louder than intended, but you didn’t care. You were done being quiet.
Yuta’s eyes snapped to yours, wide with surprise, and for a brief moment, something flickered across his face—guilt, maybe, or recognition of the pain you’d been carrying. But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by that same guarded look he’d been wearing for weeks.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked, his voice cautious, like he wasn’t sure how to handle you being this close.
You didn’t answer right away, your hands balling into fists at your sides as the rain poured down around you, mixing with the tears that were already threatening to spill. You’d spent a month trying to keep it together, trying to understand what had gone wrong, but now that you were here, standing in front of him, the dam broke.
“I can’t do this anymore, Yuta,” you said, your voice trembling with the effort to hold back your emotions. “I can’t pretend like everything’s fine, like we’re still friends when you’ve been avoiding me for weeks.” You took a step closer, your breath shaky. “What happened? What did I do to make you hate me?”
Yuta flinched, the accusation hitting him hard, but he didn’t respond. His eyes dropped to the ground, as though he couldn’t bear to look at you.
“That’s it, huh?” you continued, anger rising in your chest. “You can’t even look at me now. What did I do, Yuta? Why won’t you talk to me? Why did you disappear?” Your voice cracked, and you felt your heart shattering all over again.
The sound of the rain was deafening, filling the space between you, but Yuta still said nothing, his silence only making the knot in your chest tighten. You swallowed hard, your frustration boiling over.
“Is it because of Toge?” you demanded, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “Is that it? Do you hate me because I’m with him now? Because I chose him?” Your voice shook with desperation as you searched his face for any kind of reaction, but all you saw was the same cold distance. “I didn’t choose him over you, Yuta. I didn’t think I had to!”
Yuta’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides, and you saw the tension in his shoulders, the way his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths. But still, he didn’t speak.
You took a shaky step forward, your voice dropping to a whisper, raw and filled with hurt. “I miss you. I’ve missed you every single day, and I don’t understand why you’re doing this to me. Why are you pushing me away?”
The rain poured harder, the drops pelting against the pavement, but you didn’t care. You were trembling now, soaked to the bone, but the cold was nothing compared to the freezing ache in your chest. You stared at him, pleading with him, waiting for any kind of answer, but when none came, something inside you snapped.
“Say something!” you shouted, your voice breaking with emotion, the tears you’d been holding back finally spilling over. “Anything! Just tell me why!”
That was when Yuta broke.
“Because I can’t stand it!” he yelled, his voice raw and filled with a desperation that matched your own. His eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and pain, and for the first time in weeks, he looked at you—really looked at you. His face was flushed, his chest heaving as he struggled to find the words. “I can’t stand seeing you with him! I can’t stand seeing you with anyone else but me!”
The world seemed to stop for a moment, the rain falling in heavy sheets around you, but all you could hear was the sound of his voice, the truth of his words slamming into you like a wave. Your breath caught in your throat, shock and confusion warring in your chest as you stared at him, trying to process what he had just said.
Yuta ran a hand through his wet hair, his eyes filled with frustration as he turned away, pacing like he was trying to outrun the storm inside him. “I’ve tried, okay? I’ve tried to be okay with it. I’ve tried to be happy for you, but I can’t. I can’t pretend like I’m fine when all I want to do is tear myself apart every time I see you with him.” He stopped, his back to you, his shoulders slumping. “I thought I could handle it. But I can’t.”
You stood there, frozen in place, your heart pounding so loudly you could barely hear the rain. You’d known something was wrong—something had been wrong for weeks—but this… This was something you hadn’t expected.
“Yuta…” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rain.
He turned back toward you, his face twisted with anguish, his eyes filled with a pain so raw it nearly knocked the wind out of you. “I love you,” he said, the words slipping out like they had been caged inside him for too long. “I’ve loved you for so long, and I didn’t even realize it until it was too late. Until I saw you with him.”
Your heart lurched in your chest, your breath catching as the weight of his confession settled over you. The world seemed to blur around you, the rain, the campus, everything fading into the background as Yuta’s words echoed in your mind.
He loved you.
You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to respond to the flood of emotions crashing over you. All you could do was stand there, drenched and speechless, as Yuta’s confession hung between you, raw and exposed.
“I thought I could deal with it,” Yuta continued, his voice quieter now, filled with a sadness that cut deep. “I thought I could push it down, bury it, but I couldn’t. And every time I saw you with Toge, it just…” He shook his head, his expression filled with helplessness. “It killed me.”
You stared at him, your heart racing, trying to make sense of everything. You wanted to be angry, wanted to scream at him for leaving you, for pulling away, but all you could feel was the ache of his pain mixing with your own.
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Yuta said, his voice soft, his eyes meeting yours with a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before. “But I couldn’t keep pretending. I couldn’t keep being your friend when all I wanted was to be more than that.”
His words shattered the last of your resolve, and before you could stop yourself, you stepped forward, closing the distance between you. The rain poured down in heavy sheets, but neither of you moved, standing inches apart, your breath mingling in the cold air.
“You could’ve told me,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You didn’t have to disappear. You didn’t have to leave me alone.”
“I know,” Yuta said, his voice cracking. “I know. I’m sorry.”
The weight of Yuta’s confession hung heavily between you, thick and suffocating, and despite the raw emotion crackling in the air, you couldn’t find the words to respond. Your heart was pounding, the rain plastering your hair to your face, and all you could think about was the boy you had grown up with—the boy who had loved Rika with such devotion, such intensity, that it had shaped him.
How could he say he loved you, too?
Your breath hitched, panic rising in your chest as the reality of the situation began to settle in. This was Yuta—your best friend, the boy who had been by your side through everything, who had carried the memory of Rika with him everywhere he went. How could you even begin to reconcile that? How could you be anything but second in comparison to the ghost of someone who had meant the world to him?
“I… I have to go,” you stammered, your voice barely audible as you took a shaky step back, your mind racing to find an excuse, anything to get away from this overwhelming storm of emotion. “I can’t… I need time. I can’t do this right now.”
Yuta’s eyes widened in alarm, his hand half-reaching for you before he stopped himself, his expression torn between regret and panic. “Wait—”
But you didn’t wait. You couldn’t. The walls were closing in, your heart twisting painfully as you turned and fled, your feet splashing through the puddles on the pavement as you ran blindly away from him, away from the truth you weren’t ready to face.
The rain poured harder, blurring your vision, but it was nothing compared to the torrent of emotions swirling inside you. Yuta’s words echoed in your mind, repeating over and over, leaving you dizzy and disoriented.
I love you. I’ve loved you for so long.
But what about Rika? How could he love you when he had loved her so deeply, so painfully? It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
By the time you reached your dorm, you were soaked through, your clothes clinging to your skin as you collapsed onto your bed, curling into yourself as the tears finally came. You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, your heart aching, your mind racing with thoughts of Yuta, of the way he had looked at you, the pain in his voice as he confessed.
And in the back of your mind, guilt started to fester, creeping into every corner of your thoughts, because you were with Toge. He was the one you should be thinking about right now, the one who had been there for you, who had loved you in his own quiet, tender way.
But it was Yuta’s face that lingered behind your eyes every time you closed them.
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Over the next few weeks, everything felt different—heavy, uncertain, like you were walking on a tightrope between the two boys who meant the world to you. Yuta had kept his distance, his usual smiles and greetings replaced by awkward silences and careful glances. And every time you saw him, your heart twisted painfully, his words playing over and over in your mind.
Meanwhile, your relationship with Toge began to unravel.
It wasn’t anything dramatic—no fights, no angry words—but the weight of Yuta’s confession had lodged itself between you and Toge like a splinter you couldn’t remove. You started to notice the way Toge’s gaze would linger on you longer than usual, the silent questions in his eyes as you drifted further and further away from him, lost in your own thoughts. He could tell something was wrong, but you didn’t know how to explain it to him without hurting him more.
It all came to a head one evening, when you were sitting together in your dorm room, the silence between you thicker than usual. Toge had been unusually quiet all day, his notebook and marker resting in his lap, untouched, and you knew—you knew—that something was coming.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Toge picked up his marker and began to write, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was choosing his words carefully. When he finished, he turned the notebook toward you.
I know you love him.
The words hit you like a punch to the chest, stealing the breath from your lungs as you stared at the page, your heart racing. You opened your mouth to protest, to deny it, but the words wouldn’t come. Because deep down, you knew he was right.
Toge didn’t wait for you to respond. He began writing again, and this time, when he held the notebook up, his eyes were filled with a quiet, heartbreaking understanding.
I’ve known for a while. But I was selfish. I didn’t want to let you go. I wanted to believe that I could make you happy, that I could be enough. But I see it every time you look at Yuta. And I can’t stand watching you hurt anymore.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you read his words, your chest tightening with guilt and sorrow. “Toge, I—”
He shook his head, giving you a sad, understanding smile as he wrote one final message.
I love you enough to let you go.
You felt like your heart was being ripped in two, the weight of everything crashing down on you all at once. The tears spilled over, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him, holding him tightly as you sobbed into his shoulder.
“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t know—”
Toge hugged you back, his embrace gentle, forgiving, as he patted your back, comforting you even though you didn’t deserve it. He held you for a long time, letting you cry until the tears finally slowed, until the ache in your chest dulled to a quiet, lingering sorrow.
When you finally pulled away, Toge smiled at you—sad, but kind—and you knew that this was the end. He didn’t need to say it, and you didn’t need to explain. You both understood that things would never be the same again, but there was no anger between you. Only love, and the bittersweet sting of letting go.
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In the quiet moments after the breakup, when the weight of everything seemed too much to bear, you found yourself slipping back into memories of simpler times—of a childhood filled with laughter and warmth, where the world had yet to become complicated and heavy.
You could still picture it vividly, as though it had happened only yesterday: a summer afternoon, the sky a brilliant blue with cotton clouds lazily drifting by. The sun was high, casting a golden glow over the small park where you and Yuta had spent countless hours together, running through the grass, carefree and full of life. The world was so much bigger then, and yet it felt safe in a way that made you believe nothing bad could ever touch you.
There had been a small hill at the edge of the park, one that you’d always liked to roll down, laughing as the earth spun beneath you and the sky blurred into a swirl of blue and green. And Yuta—always cautious, always the careful one—would stand at the top, watching you with wide, anxious eyes, as though he wasn’t sure whether he should join you or pull you to safety.
"Come on, Yuta!" you had called out to him, your voice light and teasing, the wind lifting your words as you stood at the bottom of the hill, arms wide open as if you could catch the whole world in your embrace. "It’s fun! Don’t be such a scaredy-cat!"
He hesitated, his small hands twisting the hem of his shirt, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he glanced nervously down the slope. "What if I fall?"
You’d laughed then, the sound bright and full of innocence. "That’s the point, silly! It’s fun because we fall. I’ll be right here to catch you."
Yuta had blinked at that, a mix of wonder and uncertainty flickering in his eyes. But eventually, with a deep breath and a determined nod, he took a running start and threw himself down the hill, his arms flailing as he tumbled toward you in a mess of limbs and laughter.
And when he finally reached the bottom, breathless and dizzy, you had caught him just like you’d promised, your arms wrapping around his smaller frame as the two of you collapsed together in the grass, giggling uncontrollably as the world continued to spin around you.
For a long time, you just lay there, staring up at the sky, your sides aching from laughter, the scent of earth and summer filling your lungs. The air had been warm, the kind of warmth that seemed to wrap around you like a blanket, and Yuta’s head rested on your shoulder as the two of you watched the clouds drift by in comfortable silence.
“See? That wasn’t so bad,” you’d murmured after a while, turning your head to glance at him, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “You didn’t fall that hard.”
Yuta had looked at you then, his wide, brown eyes filled with a quiet awe that you hadn’t understood at the time. “I wasn’t afraid because I knew you’d catch me.”
It was such a simple thing, a quiet confession from a boy who had always been a little more sensitive, a little more cautious than the others. But it had stuck with you, even then, the way his trust in you had been so absolute, so pure.
You didn’t realize it at the time, but that moment—lying together in the grass, the sun kissing your skin, the world stretching endlessly before you—had been the beginning of something deeper. It was the foundation of the bond that would carry you through the years, through the laughter and the tears, through the heartbreak and the healing.
But now, as you stood in the present, far removed from that sun-soaked memory, the ache in your chest was sharper, the edges of that innocent childhood blurring with the weight of everything that had come after. You had promised to always catch him, but you hadn’t kept that promise. Somewhere along the way, you had let him fall, too caught up in your own fears and insecurities to notice how much he needed you.
And now, the boy who had once trusted you so completely, who had loved you without hesitation, was standing on the other side of a divide you weren’t sure you could cross.
You sighed, running your fingers through your hair as the memories swirled around you, bittersweet and heavy with the knowledge of what you had lost—of what you could still lose if you didn’t act now.
Yuta had always been there, hadn’t he? Always the one to catch you when you stumbled, always the one to pull you up when you were too afraid to stand. Even after Rika, even after everything that had happened, he had stayed by your side, his love for you quiet but unwavering, waiting for the moment when you would finally see it for what it was.
And now that you had, now that you could see the truth so clearly, you couldn’t let fear hold you back any longer.
You weren’t children anymore. You couldn’t go back to those simpler times, couldn’t return to the days when love was something you didn’t have to think about, didn’t have to question. But maybe—just maybe—you could still catch him, even after all this time.
With a deep breath, you pushed the memories aside, your heart heavy but resolute. There was only one place you needed to be now.
It was time to see Yuta.
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Your heart was pounding in your chest, nerves twisting in your stomach as you raised your hand to knock. You hadn’t seen him since your last conversation—since the confession that had turned your world upside down—and you didn’t know how he would react to you showing up now. But you couldn’t wait any longer. You couldn’t keep running from the truth.
When the door finally opened, Yuta stood there, looking just as surprised as you felt. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of you, but he didn’t say anything, waiting for you to speak first.
“I… I need to talk to you,” you said, your voice trembling slightly, but you forced yourself to meet his gaze, to hold onto the resolve that had brought you here. “About what you said. About everything.”
For a moment, Yuta looked like he was about to say something, his expression tense, but he nodded, stepping aside to let you in.
The room was quiet, the air between you heavy with unspoken words, but you didn’t wait. You couldn’t. The second the door closed behind you, the dam broke.
“I didn’t know,” you began, your voice soft but urgent, your heart racing in your chest. “I didn’t know how much I loved you until you said it. And I was scared, Yuta. I was so scared because I thought I would never be able to measure up to Rika. I thought you would never see me the way you saw her.”
Yuta’s breath hitched, his eyes widening in shock, but you kept going, the words tumbling out faster now, your emotions spilling over.
“But then I realized… you’ve always been there for me, haven’t you? You’ve always been by my side, and I was too afraid to see it. Too afraid to admit that maybe I’ve loved you all along, too.”
Yuta’s hands clenched at his sides, his voice low and filled with disbelief. “You… You love me?”
You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes as you took a shaky step toward him. “Yes, Yuta. I love you.”
And before you could second-guess yourself, before you could let fear hold you back, you closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him in a tight, desperate embrace. Yuta froze for a moment, his breath catching in his throat, but then he was hugging you back, holding you like he never wanted to let go.
“I’m so sorry I ran,” you whispered into his shoulder, your voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”
Yuta shook his head, his hold on you tightening as he pressed his face into your hair. “Don’t apologize,” he murmured, his voice cracking with emotion. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”
You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your heart swelling with relief, with love, with everything you had been too afraid to feel before. And in that moment, as Yuta leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours, his eyes soft and filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache, you knew that this was where you were meant to be.
Together.
Finally.
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cambion-companion · 11 months ago
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Can’t stop thinking of a tav who just showers Raphael in attention and affection. It’s the little things like listening attentively to his plays and dramatizations whenever they ask anything, to looking at him like he hung the moon and the stars, cupping his face as if he’s some kind of precious lovely thing instead of you know, A DEVIL
Just tenderness because that’s not something common in the world of devil and demons (I think?)
Ps: love your writing!
Hi! Thank you! I took the opportunity to write more Patron!Raphael, with a little bardic twist!
Raphael x reader (gn)
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You were Raphael’s favorite.
This knowledge you wore with great pride and much to the aggravation of his other servants.
You had never expected a patron Fiend to be so dynamic.  His passion for the performing arts rivaling even your own.  You’d struggled being a bard for so long, working your fingers raw upon the instruments that refused to sing for you.  Your creative abilities severely stunted.  Until Raphael entered your life.
The cambion had carefully watched your passion to act and dance, recognizing in you his own desire to draw down the magic of words upon parchment.
You had been so eager to sign his contract, agreeing to serve him and spread his own creations to the material plane in exchange for unhindered, undiluted talent.
Raphael was quite pleased with this arrangement.  Under his mortal disguise he would often attend your little shows, his amber eyes glinting with self-satisfaction as he watched his little bird channel his creations. Through you, Raphael gained another taste of what being a god must feel like.
At the end of another long recitation of one of Raphael’s more laborious poems, you watched the guests file from the room and took a welcome drink of cool water for yourself.
Raphael leaned against the marble pillar, idly swirling a glass of red wine as he studied you.
“You’re not enunciating enough during the last stanza.”  Raphael tutted lightly, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “The attention of your guests lapses accordingly.”
You grimaced and rubbed your sore throat. “Sure, it’s my enunciation. Not the fact you drone on about the tempestuous nature of pixies for five minutes.”
Raphael’s smile didn’t reach his dark eyes. “For a mortal so favored by Fate, you certainly enjoy tempting it.”
“I’m not favored by Fate, I’m favored by you.”
“Well said.  Well spotted.”  Raphael chuckled and drained his cup before placing it aside and moving close, the fragrance of his musk burning your nostrils. His hand cupped your jaw and tilted your face up. “Not appreciated nearly enough, however. I labor long so that you may be the conduit of my brilliance.”
You couldn’t help but roll your yes, a twinge of unwelcome fondness stirring yet again within you for this curious devil. “I adore everything you create, Raphael.  Well…almost everything.”
“And what, pray tell, is the exception?”
You hesitated and pulled your head out of his grip, his long index finger trailing beneath your chin. “Well, that song about the hagspawn was pretty terrible.”
Raphael inclined his head. “Granted, it was not my best creation. Yet you did it justice, once you heeded my tender correction and stopped laughing.”
You rubbed your lower back at the unpleasant memory. “Yes…I remember your ‘correction’ quite well.”
“As always, it is my intent to make an impression.”  Raphael extended a hand which you took, preparing to be whisked back to his House of Hope. “Even amongst the most stiff-necked of my servants.”
A blast of hot air met your face as Raphael pulled your body through the familiar hellfire portal.  You didn’t mark the change, but Raphael had shed his human guise and now stood before you in full cambion form.  He stretched his arms and wings wide, clearing his throat before launching into a dramatic recitation of his newest poetic piece.
You sat in an armchair as far away from the roaring fire as possible, listening to Raphael’s deep voice paint the images of an epic tale. It was clearly another of his self-insertion stories with a protagonist modeled after how Raphael perceived himself. Which was a sight different than the reality.
Despite the blatant conceit, you couldn’t help but be drawn into the world he had created. You clapped enthusiastically at the end of his impassioned oratory.
As always, you were his biggest fan. Aside from himself of course.
Haarlep passed through the large room on the way back to the Boudoir he was often confined to.  The incubus wore a sleepy expression and the usual replication of Raphael’s image, carrying a mug of steaming liquid in hand.
“Raphael has just come up with the most exquisite tale, Haarlep!”  You said with excitement, not noticing Raphael’s glare on you soften slightly at your words.
“Believe me, cherub.  I’ve heard it all.”  Haarlep waved a dismissive hand in your direction and continued on his way.
“He doesn’t like me much.”  You said, a little put out as you always were at Haarlep’s disinterest.
“Pay him no mind.”  Raphael handed you yet another long sheaf of parchment whereon he’d scrawled more lyrics for you to memorize. “There is only one whose attentions you should crave.”
You glanced over his work and smiled, trying in vain to hide your delight at the new project. “Of course, but it does get a little confusing since you insist on him wearing your form.”
Raphael’s tail smacked your backside causing you to hiss at the sting. “Careful, little nightingale. Even my fondness for you has its limits.”
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