#s: myth + history

[tyrannuspitch]

oh no the fun symbolism in that edit that just came out of my queue is not linguistically accurate :(

that's a T-rune not a TH-rune, so it doesn't matter than the L-rune is a T-rune with a missing piece. because his name is thor not tor :(

but! potentially you could still argue that a TH-rune (ᚦ) is two L-runes (ᛚ) put together, with one mirrored along the vertical axis... like so:

which could maybe mean something about... shadows? reflections? halves? loki as a defective version of thor, but thor's sense of identity inherently incorporating loki? loki being lonely and severed from thor? idk it's less obvious and therefore harder to interpret. but it IS linguistically accurate. whenever you need someone to make your symbolism worse and more contrived just give me a call 👍

[quietwingsinthesky]

i understand that the modern day segments are the thing that binds the assassin’s creed games together and that they’re essential to the story. but consider. they suck dick and balls.

[haggishlyhagging]

Mollie Steimer (1897-1980) … emigrated with her family from the Ukraine in 1912. One of six children, she described her life in a New York ghetto as typical of "most poor Jewish immigrants." Her father was a laborer, her mother took in boarders, and she worked in various factories. Her formal schooling having been limited by her poverty, Steimer, like Ganz and numerous others, received her education in the radical youth groups where literature and philosophy received almost as much attention as ideas for the creation of the new world. Inspired by Kropotkin's Conquest of Bread, she joined the anarchist group Freedom in 1917.

She could not have chosen a more unpropitious time to become an anarchist. The United States, having recently entered World War I, was increasingly intolerant of radicals. In August 1918, when Steimer and six of her comrades distributed leaflets supporting the Bolshevik Revolution and denouncing the Allied intervention in Russia, they were arrested for violation of the espionage act. While Marie Ganz had been sentenced to sixty days for brandishing a pistol in the offices of John D. Rockefeller, Mollie Steimer was sentenced to fifteen years for proclaiming: "The tyrants of the world fight each other until they see a common enemy—WORKING CLASS ENLIGHTENMENT. As soon as they find a common enemy they combine to crush it." One of her indicted comrades, who had not engaged in the leaflet distribution, was acquitted; one turned state's evidence and received a light sentence; a third died in prison as a result of injuries inflicted by interrogating officers; and the remaining three were given twenty-year sentences.

After the Supreme Court refused to overturn the decision of the lower courts, Steimer began her prison sentence. Refusing to participate in a pardon campaign that was initiated on behalf of her and the others, she explained to her lawyer that "aside from the fact that I am against petitioning a government official, I consider it against my principles to ask for the release of four individuals while thousands of other political prisoners are languishing in the U.S. jails." Despite her disapproval of the attempts to gain her release, Steimer and the others were removed from prison and deported to the Soviet Union in late 1921. At first welcomed by Soviet officials, Steimer soon earned the enmity of the Russian government. As an anarchist she had few illusions about her status among the Communists. Emma Goldman and Alexander Berkman had already fled Russia at the time of her arrival, and Steimer understood that dissenters paid stiff penalties. Nevertheless, animated by her principles and by the support of the Russian dissidents who had managed to stay out of prison, she continued her anarchist activities. While in Russia she had met and grown to love Senya Fleshin, an anarcho-syndicalist active in the movement to free Russian political prisoners, many of whom were anarchists. She and Fleshin were jailed, beaten, and tortured; whenever out of prison they remained under constant police surveillance. In 1923 the Soviet Union deported both of them.

For the next two decades Steimer and Fleshin endured ill health, privation, and government persecution. During the twenties they lived in France and Germany. Having the misfortune to be German residents when Hitler came to power, they fled to France again in the 1930s. While living this rootless existence, they witnessed the crumbling of what had remained of the international anarchist movement, and the devastation of their remaining hopes for the vindication of anarchist principles when Franco triumphed in the Spanish Civil War. On the heels of that defeat came World War II and the German occupation of France. Steimer was arrested in May 1940 and sent to a concentration camp at Gurs; Fleshin had escaped detention. Steimer remained in the camp for six months, after which she escaped to the unoccupied part of France. From there she and Fleshin fled to Mexico, where she lived until her death.

It is difficult not to be overwhelmed by Mollie Steimer's fidelity to principle throughout decades of persecution. Whether such constancy is a virtue or a flaw may be argued; nevertheless, despite an almost identical sociocultural background to Marie Ganz, Steimer was inspired by intellectual, social, and psychological forces that profoundly distinguished her from the more changeable Ganz. Steimer's conversion to anarchism derived less from an emotional response to a crisis situation than from her acceptance of the basic tenets of anarchist ideology. As a disciple of Kropotkin, Steimer possessed an intellectual and moral vision of the future. Ganz, on the other hand, consistently disclaimed a constructive image, insisting that destruction of the old order was her only object. Further, Steimer's prison experiences hardened her against democratic society. Although Justice Holmes, in his dissent against the conviction of Steimer and the others, argued that "the defendants were deprived of their rights under the United States Constitution," the majority of the Supreme Court thought otherwise, and Steimer remained convinced that constitutional safeguards of freedom were a sham. Finally—and this is a much more elusive argument—having endured imprisonment, torture, and exile for a cause, not once but three times, Steimer may have chosen simply not to question anarchist ideology in her later years. Whatever her reasons, she did not abandon her faith in anarchism. In her eighth decade she wrote: "I hold fast to my convictions, being certain that only in a society where no human being will rule over another, can there be true freedom. "

-Margaret S. Marsh, Anarchist Women, 1870-1920

[blumoonfiction-blog]

Fairy Tale 101: Myths & Legends - St. Valentine

“Love is not only something you feel, it is something you do.”— David Wilkerson The legend of St. Valentine is one of mystery, devotion, and an enduring celebration of love. Known as the patron saint of affection and romance, his story is far more profound than the mere exchange of chocolates and roses. It’s a tale of faith, courage, and the ultimate sacrifice—a human being who defied an emperor…

[historicalvagabond]

Macks: How Mackerel Became Slang for Pimp

How the flashy little mackerel become associated with pimps and prostitution.

Did you consider yourself a “mack” during your New Jack Swing phase in the early 1990’s? Did you wear your baggy jeans backwards and call yourself “daddy mack” like those kid rappers from Kris Kross? Well, I’m pretty sure you didn’t know back then, that this old euphemism for a pimp, might be based on a small fast swimming fish: the mackerel. So, how did this flashy little fish become associated…

[kc22invesmentsblog]

Switzerland's Banking Industry: Beyond the Myths

Written by Delvin Switzerland, a picturesque country nestled in the heart of Europe, has long been associated with its renowned banking industry. With its reputation for financial stability, privacy, and discretion, Switzerland has attracted numerous international banks over the years. However, it is essential to look beyond the common perceptions and explore the multifaceted nature of…

[dksfml]

off my face - yjw

pairing: jungwon x reader genre: soulmate au, mega FLUFF word count: 6.6k summary: in a world where each person has a soulmate mark indicating where they will be touched by their soulmate for the first time, there’s jungwon—the soccer team captain you’d like to be ruined by forever—who has no soulmate mark at all. what does that make you, someone whose mark has changed color because of him? author's note: finally!! here's your most awaited blond jungwon fic that i skipped sleep for<3333 inspired by this amazing prompt my friend sent me.

One touch and you got me stoned. Higher than I've ever known. You call the shots and I follow. Sunrise, but the night still young. No words, but we speak in tongues. If you let me, I might say too much.

You sat near the front row, posture perfect, eyes narrowed as Professor Min’s lecture on ancient mythology took a surprising turn. Today’s topic wasn’t just history—it was soulmate lore, the mysterious marks everyone was born with, and the myths that surrounded them. The professor’s calm, seasoned voice filled the room, but the air buzzed with barely contained excitement. Everyone was alert, even the usual back-row whisperers, captivated by the promise of something rare: a sanctioned discussion about their most private marks.

“These soulmate marks,” Professor Min began, his gaze sweeping the room with a faint smile, “are said to be the final traces of a bond forged in a past life. Legends tell us that in each lifetime, we may be separated from our soulmates, lost to distance or circumstance. But the marks,” he gestured to his own faintly darkened palm, “are said to be the soul’s way of leaving a trail—a reminder.”

A murmur rippled through the room. Everyone had a mark, a small patch of inky darkness, as distinct as fingerprints, mapped out on their bodies. Some had them on their palms or fingertips, waiting for the day a handshake or brush of fingers would light up that mark with color. Others had them in more curious places, whispering of fated touches in the most unlikely moments.

"The legend says," Professor Min continued, "that these marks were painted by one’s soulmate in a past life, a vow made in hopes to meet again, to find each other across time."

You clenched your pen a little tighter, the faint tickle of wonder battling the urge to keep your expression blank and unfeeling. You’d always kept your interest in soulmate marks private. They seemed so full of mystery, and the idea of your soulmate waiting for you somewhere was oddly… reassuring. You glanced down, conscious of the mark behind your knee, hidden like a strange secret that even you could barely understand. What kind of first touch would even reach there? The thought was both amusing and baffling, and you stifled a wry smile.

Around you, other students leaned in to chat, loud enough that their conversations blended into a steady hum. Your classmate Arin nudged her friend, laughing as she displayed the faint mark on her palm. “I’ve been dying to know who’ll shake my hand one day,” she whispered excitedly, her eyes glimmering with hope.

But your gaze drifted just beyond Arin, landing instead on a familiar figure lounging in the middle row with his legs stretched out, looking every bit like he was born to disrupt things without lifting a finger. Jungwon. Handsome in a way that seemed almost unfair, with striking, dark eyes framed by lashes that cast subtle shadows on his cheeks, and hair the color of midnight that fell in soft, tousled waves. He had this effortless, magnetic presence that drew people toward him, like he knew he didn’t need to try.

As captain of the soccer team and one of the most well-known faces on campus, Jungwon somehow managed to look both sharp and relaxed, as if the attention his looks or reputation brought him meant nothing. You’d been crushing on him since last year, an avid fan always present at his games, cheering him on like a lovesick fool. Whenever he scored a goal, you felt your heart leap, and you couldn’t help but unleash your inner fangirl, your excitement spilling over as you screamed his name. Right now, he seemed half-listening to his friends, a hint of a lazy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he leaned back, eyes drifting up to the ceiling before refocusing on his friends. It was that easygoing confidence that made him impossible not to notice—and, for you, impossible not to think about.

It was a boy from his friend group, Jay, who interrupted the class chatter by slapping a hand down on the table and teasing, “Come on, Won. You don’t have a soulmate mark, my foot. No one gets off that easy.” The comment was light-hearted but loaded, and more than a few students turned to look.

To your surprise, Jungwon didn’t react with one of his usual witty comebacks or careless shrugs. Instead, he just rubbed the back of his neck, a hint of something almost vulnerable flashing across his face. “No, really,” he insisted, almost apologetically. “I don’t have one. I checked a million times as a kid.”

Your pen paused mid-note, and a slight, irrational disappointment prickled in your chest. It was hard to believe, especially about someone like Jungwon, whose very presence seemed destined to leave a mark on others. Soulmate marks might be rare, but someone like him not having one? It felt impossible, like a missing piece that no one noticed until it was too late.

For a fleeting moment, you wondered if maybe he just hadn’t found it yet. After all, some people only discovered their mark when it finally turned to color. Sometimes it wasn’t a visible spot on the skin but something far subtler—a shadow in the hue of their lips that would only brighten after a first kiss, or a darkness lingering in an eye, invisible until the gentle touch of someone wiping away their tears brought it to life. The thought sent a strange warmth to your cheeks as you glanced back toward him, wondering if Jungwon’s missing mark was just waiting for the right person to unlock it.

Still, he looked surprisingly honest, a faint hint of sadness clouding his otherwise bright gaze. For someone so magnetic, it was as if he was caught drifting in space, without any tether connecting him to anyone at all.

“Alright, alright,” Jay relented, raising his hands in surrender but laughing all the same. “Guess someone’s too cool to be fated to anyone, huh?”

The professor’s voice cut back in, and you forced yourself to refocus, though your mind lingered on Jungwon’s quiet expression and the flicker of something in his eyes, something both resigned and deeply private. Could he really be alone in a world where everyone else was bound to someone?

“Imagine having your mark on your knuckles,” Arin whispered beside you with a grin, oblivious to the moment that had just passed. “You’d probably knock your soulmate out before you even realized they were ‘the one’!”

Another round of laughter scattered through the room, like a shared inside joke. The air felt charged, as if everyone were suddenly curious about each other’s marks, glancing around with new eyes. You let out a small sigh, tapping your pen against your notebook with a faint smile. As much as you tried to keep up the class president, model-student act, the idea of soulmates fascinated you in a way you’d never quite admit.

When the bell finally rang, the room filled with that familiar end-of-class chaos. You started packing up, keeping your head down—until you noticed Jungwon slinging his bag over his shoulder, looking effortlessly put-together, as usual. He laughed at something his friend said, his expression relaxed, his dark eyes flickering with amusement. But you couldn’t help catching the faintest flicker of something else in his gaze as he glanced at his friends—like a momentary, unguarded look that felt… wistful?

Okay, maybe that was just you being overly imaginative.

You let out a little huff as you slung your own bag over your shoulder, shaking off the strange pity you’d felt moments before. So what if Jungwon didn’t have a mark? You barely even knew him. Well, you kind of knew him, but from a distance—and with way more daydreams than you’d like to admit. Still, it was silly to wonder about him, right? With your head full of these thoughts, you walked out into the hallway, lost in a world where maybe, just maybe, he was wondering about you, too.

And as you brushed past a group of friends, laughing and shoving each other, your hand slipped over the back of your knee, where your own mark was hidden—quiet, waiting, and as mysterious as ever.

The sky was an endless blue, stretching wide over the school field as your class spilled out onto the grass for PE. With the teacher conveniently on vacation, today’s instructions were simple: enjoy the free time. Most of your classmates took to the field, breaking off into little clusters for a lazy game of soccer, light stretches, or simple gossip sessions by the bleachers.

As class president, you took it upon yourself to ensure no one went too far or caused trouble. Your duty, as you saw it, was to survey your classmates from a slight distance, keeping an eye out with the calm, serious gaze you’d carefully perfected. Yet even from the sidelines, your eyes found themselves drifting toward a familiar figure on the field, drawn to him like magnets.

Jungwon was at the center of the field with his friends, casual and relaxed, but his every move carried an elegance that made your pulse skip. He was laughing at something his friend said, his eyes crinkling as he kicked the soccer ball back and forth, the glint of a confident smirk tugging at his lips. His ease on the field was mesmerizing, a mixture of strength and grace that made it hard to look away.

You reminded yourself to focus, scanning the field to check on the other groups. But before you could pull your attention back entirely, a voice called out, and you saw Jungwon pivot to chase the soccer ball—only for it to ricochet off his foot, headed directly toward you with alarming speed.

In the split second it took you to react, you felt a sharp thud against the back of your knees. The impact sent you stumbling forward, knees buckling beneath you as you tumbled to the ground. Pain flared up where the ball had struck, but it was drowned out by the shock of it all.

“Oh no—are you okay?” Jungwon’s voice was breathless with concern, his steps hurried as he reached you. You barely had a chance to process his arrival before he knelt beside you, face flushed and clearly panicked. His hand hovered awkwardly as if afraid to touch you, his usual calm replaced with something far more vulnerable.

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to— Are you hurt?” he stammered, his voice unusually soft. He reached out gently, his hands carefully brushing against your arm as he tried to help you up. “Can you stand?”

Your mind struggled to catch up to the moment, and it took everything you had to keep your stoic demeanor intact. Jungwon was close, closer than he’d ever been, and the intensity of his worried gaze was unexpectedly disarming. Even as pain pulsed through your knee, you couldn’t help but stare, captivated by how intensely he focused on you, as if everything else in the world had fallen away.

“I’m fine, really,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. But as soon as you tried to stand, pain shot up your leg.

Jungwon’s expression shifted to one of determination, and before you could protest, he slid one arm under your knees and lifted you up, his other arm around your shoulders. The world tilted as he held you in a firm, steady grip, his face barely inches from yours. “We’re getting you to the nurse. No arguments.”

You blinked, momentarily stunned by his closeness, by the warmth radiating from him. “Oh—okay.” The words left your mouth almost on instinct, your brain still catching up with the fact that Jungwon was carrying you, his focus set entirely on you. His hands brushed your arm as he adjusted his grip, and you felt a strange warmth bloom under your skin, something unfamiliar and electric.

The walk to the nurse’s office was quiet, but you couldn’t ignore the way his gaze flickered to you, the gentleness in his expression as he murmured, “Sorry again. I’d never forgive myself if I hurt the class president.”

Your lips parted, searching for something to say, but the way he looked at you—soft, maybe even a bit shy—left you wordless. All you could do was nod, your heart pounding louder with each step as you held onto the feeling of his arms around you, wondering if he could hear it too.

It wasn’t until you glanced down that you noticed it—a faint shift of color beneath your knee where the ball had struck. The mark, once hidden and dark, now radiated a subtle but unmistakable bright yellow hue, soft and warm against your skin.

You froze, eyes wide, as the realization settled in. Jungwon was still mumbling apologies, unaware of the discovery you’d just made. Only he could have caused the mark to change; he was the only one who had touched that spot. The idea left you breathless, your mind scrambling to make sense of it all.

In the clinic, the nurse examined your knee with a quick, professional assessment. “You’ll be fine,” she declared, sending you off with an ice pack and a faint smile. But your thoughts were still racing, tangled up in the startling realization that Jungwon might actually be your soulmate.

The whole walk back to class, you replayed the moment in your mind, trying to make sense of it. Maybe it was a coincidence. Perhaps someone had brushed the back of your knee at some other time, and you simply hadn’t noticed. But deep down, you knew the truth—the mark had only changed when Jungwon touched you.

And when you returned to class, he was there, hovering near the door with a worried frown. He looked up as you approached, eyes bright with relief.

“Are you okay?” he asked, a slight smile breaking through the concern etched into his features. “I was worried about you.”

Your heart skipped as you nodded, doing your best to keep your voice steady. “I’m fine. Just… a bit shaken up, that’s all.” You felt the weight of the new secret pressing down on you, but you forced yourself to smile.

Jungwon’s shoulders relaxed, and he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck in that effortlessly charming way of his. “I’m glad. I’ll be more careful with my aim next time.”

You smiled back, feeling the weight of the mark’s new color, of the quiet truth only you knew. As Jungwon returned to his seat, your gaze drifted to the back of your knee, where the mark lay hidden under the fabric of your clothes, now touched by color—by him.

In the days following the incident on the field, the world seemed to shift around you, humming with an energy you couldn’t quite shake. The back of your knee, where Jungwon’s touch had changed your soulmate mark to a soft, distinct yellow color, was a constant reminder of the possibility that your crush—Jungwon, the ever-handsome and kind soccer captain—might be something even more significant than you’d ever dared to imagine.

“How’s your knee?” he asked, his voice warm and tinged with that familiar gentleness that made your heart stutter.

“Oh, it’s fine, really!” You waved it off, attempting to tuck your leg further under your desk, hoping he wouldn’t notice the faint new color to the mark that still lingered behind your knee.

Jungwon didn’t seem to buy it. “Are you sure?” he asked, his brows furrowing as he leaned down, intent on seeing for himself. Before he could get a closer look, you tugged your skirt down a little farther, hiding the mark as best as you could.

“I’m sure, really,” you insisted, trying to keep your tone casual. “It’s just a little sore, nothing to worry about.”

For a moment, he hesitated, his gaze lingering on you, unreadable. Then he nodded, standing up with a quiet, sheepish smile. “Alright. I’ll trust you, but only if you promise to let me know if it starts hurting again.”

You managed a nod, clutching your books a little tighter to keep your hands steady. “I promise,” you said, hoping he didn’t notice the flicker of nerves in your eyes.

Your third shared class of the week was English, and just as the teacher assigned the day’s group work, the class began to shift into pairs. Coincidentally (or so you told yourself), the seating arrangement placed Jungwon near you that day.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft as he approached. He offered you one of his signature, heart-stopping smiles. “Mind if we pair up? I mean…if you’re okay with it.”

With an effort to keep your expression neutral, you nodded. “Sure,” you replied, your voice steady even though your heart was anything but.

Settling at a table near the window, you both pulled out your notebooks. The task was straightforward—analyzing a poem about soulmates. You caught a breath at the irony, and Jungwon, seemingly unfazed, began reading the passage aloud. His voice, low and calm, wove through the words as you listened, though your mind kept wandering to his every movement, the way his eyes flickered thoughtfully over the page, how his fingers held the pencil lightly but with intention.

“What do you think?” he asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You cleared your throat, willing your focus back to the assignment. “I think…well, it’s romantic. But it’s also kind of tragic, right? There’s always this sense of waiting—like, what if they don’t meet?”

Jungwon’s gaze flickered up, lingering on your face a little longer than necessary. “Yeah, that’s true,” he agreed, his voice thoughtful. “The idea that you’re waiting your whole life for just one person…it’s a lot of pressure.”

He paused, eyes settling on you, as if searching for something beneath the calm exterior you held so tightly. “Do you… believe in it? Soulmates, I mean?”

Caught off guard, you looked down, your fingers tracing invisible patterns on the edge of your notebook. You thought of your parents, of their own lovely story about finding each other through their marks, and how you’d grown up with those tales of destiny. And now, here you were, sitting with the very boy who might be your own fated match.

“I think,” you began slowly, “that I want to believe in it. My parents…they have one of those classic stories. It’s hard not to believe in soulmates when you’ve heard stories like that all your life.”

He nodded, listening intently. “I get that. I guess…sometimes I wonder what it would be like. But it’s hard to picture when you don’t…you know, have any marks yourself.”

The quiet sadness in his tone took you by surprise. You’d never considered what it might be like to go through life without a soulmate mark, to feel like something intrinsic was missing, a feeling that destiny had passed you by. Suddenly, your thoughts flickered back to the legends the elders told—how markless people were said to carry the weight of unrequited love from a past life, doomed to wander without a soulmate to mark them in this one. The idea hung heavy in the air, mingling with your sympathy for him.

“Maybe it doesn’t matter, then,” you murmured, almost to yourself. “Maybe people without marks find their person too, in other ways.” You couldn’t help but think that perhaps Jungwon was one of those souls, burdened by a love that never came to fruition.

The silence that followed was heavy but not uncomfortable. Jungwon seemed lost in thought, his gaze drifting out the window as he considered your words. And just then, a strange sense of comfort washed over you, knowing that even if he was unaware of it, you shared a connection that went beyond what either of you could see.

“Maybe,” he said finally, and then he flashed you a lopsided grin. “Well, even if soulmates are real, maybe it’s a good thing I’m mark-free. I don’t think I’d want someone to find out I was their soulmate because I hit them with a soccer ball.”

His laughter rang out, and you couldn’t help but join him, but beneath the mirth, your heart clenched. You wanted to tell him everything—to reveal the secret that could bridge the chasm between you. But as the words formed on your lips, fear gripped you. What if you were wrong? What if he truly didn’t have a soulmate mark, and this moment of connection was just a fleeting illusion?

So you swallowed hard, plastering a smile on your face that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Well, let’s just keep that between us, then,” you replied, hoping to mask the anxiety swirling inside you.

Inside, the truth weighed heavy, a secret that felt more like a burden than a bond. Keeping it hidden seemed safer, easier—even if it left you feeling like a ghost, drifting alongside him but never truly reaching out. The thought of him being one of those markless souls—the ones who carried the pain of a love never realized—made you ache. You didn’t want him to feel that emptiness, and yet, here you were, hiding a truth that might shatter the fragile connection you shared.

Perhaps it was better this way. Better to hold onto your heartache in silence than risk shattering the bond you had built, no matter how tenuous it felt. As you returned to the assignment, the bittersweet taste of longing lingered on your tongue, mixing with the thrill of possibility, leaving you torn between the hope of what could be and the fear of what might never come to pass.

Finally, during your biology class, your teacher assigned a laboratory cleaning rotation. By the luck of the draw—or maybe a twist of fate—you found yourself paired with Jungwon. It was supposed to be a simple task, but as the two of you gathered supplies and began tidying up the classroom after hours, you felt the weight of every quiet moment.

Jungwon appeared beside you as you straightened a stack of textbooks, arms full of markers and erasers. His casual, laid-back attitude only heightened the quiet thrill that being near him sparked in you. As he handed you an eraser, your fingers brushed slightly, and you pulled back quickly, heart racing.

"Are you always this… serious?" Jungwon teased, his lips curving into a half-smile. "I mean, you don’t have to look like we’re cleaning the whole school."

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile. “It’s just how I work. I take tasks seriously.”

He nodded, still smiling. “You’re impressive, you know. It’s like…you’re always so composed, like nothing rattles you.”

Caught off guard by his observation, you froze momentarily, not sure how to respond. Behind your serious exterior, you were anything but composed—especially around him. Before you could answer, he turned away to tidy the bookshelves, leaving you wondering if he’d picked up on the effect he had on you.

After a while, Jungwon returned to the task at hand, dusting off a few of the windowsills. It was quiet for a few minutes, the sounds of your combined effort filling the room. You both worked in sync, a silent rhythm that had developed without either of you realizing it. And then, with an abruptness that caught you off guard, he spoke again.

“Hey,” he said, hesitating. “I know this might be a weird question, but… where’s your soulmate mark?”

The question hung in the air between you, heavy with implications you weren’t ready to unravel. Your heart thudded as you carefully set down the books you’d been holding, gathering your thoughts.

You felt a flush creep up your cheeks. "Um, it's… it's on my knee," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The intimacy of the moment made you shy, and you instinctively shifted your weight, the hem of your skirt falling to cover your knee even more.

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, curiosity glimmering in his eyes. “Oh? Is it… already in color?”

You hesitated for a brief moment, weighing your words. “Uh, yeah,” you replied, biting your lip. “It changed a while ago. But it’s not a big deal.” You left out the part about him possibly being your soulmate, feeling the weight of that truth settle heavily in the air between you.

His expression shifted slightly, disappointment flashing across his features before he masked it with a casual smile. “That’s cool,” he said, his voice a bit quieter now. “I guess… it must be nice to have that certainty.”

“Yeah,” you said, trying to keep the mood light despite the sudden heaviness in your chest. “I mean, it’s comforting, I suppose.”

But beneath your words, a sense of longing stirred. You noticed how his gaze faltered for a moment, and it struck you then how much he had hoped for something different. He had seemed eager, maybe even hopeful, and the realization stung a little.

Jungwon cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had settled over you both. “So, um… did you see the last soccer game?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction. “I think we really need to work on our defense.”

His attempt at lightheartedness felt slightly forced, and you could see a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. Still, it was nice to see him trying to shake off the heaviness from moments before.

“Yeah, I caught a bit of it,” you replied, grateful for the shift in focus. “You guys played well, though a couple of those goals were pretty close calls.”

He chuckled, the tension easing just a little. “Yeah, I think I almost gave our coach a heart attack with that last-minute save,” he said, grinning. It was an infectious smile, and you found yourself smiling back despite the weight still resting in the back of your mind.

The annual school festival arrived faster than expected, and the campus buzzed with activity and excitement. Classrooms were transformed into themed booths, hallways were draped with handmade decorations, and students wore colorful festival shirts and badges, their faces bright with paint and laughter. You found yourself stationed at the face-painting booth, brush in hand, ready to tackle the endless line of eager students.

You’d always enjoyed events like these—participating in the festival offered you a rare chance to relax and feel connected to your classmates outside of the usual seriousness you maintained as class president. Here, you were just another student, painting stars, hearts, and stripes on familiar faces.

“Hey, what’s up? Need a painter?” your friend Taeyoung called out to the next group approaching your booth. You followed his gaze and felt your heart skip when you recognized Jungwon and his friends heading your way, laughing and jostling each other. He wore a loose festival shirt with sleeves rolled up, a casual look that somehow made him even more handsome. You quickly glanced down, suddenly hyper-aware of your paintbrushes and the paper towels you clutched a little too tightly.

The booth was busy, and with most of your fellow painters occupied, it didn’t take long for Taeyoung to pair Jungwon with you. “Hey, Y/N, looks like you’ve got a VIP customer! Captain Jungwon wants to be a canvas today,” he said, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he nudged Jungwon playfully.

Jungwon chuckled, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—an eagerness mixed with a hint of shyness. “Yeah, I guess I’m in your hands now,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “No pressure, right?”

You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure as your heart raced. “Uh, right! No pressure at all,” you replied, your voice a little too bright. “What do you have in mind?”

You forced yourself to meet Jungwon’s eyes, fighting back the nervous excitement bubbling in your chest. “So… what would you like?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Jungwon’s usual confident smile softened a little, and he seemed slightly hesitant, rubbing the back of his neck, a gesture that made your stomach flutter. “Maybe a couple of stars on my cheeks? And… maybe a small cat on my forehead?”

You stifled a laugh at his request, realizing that behind his composed demeanor, he had a playful side you hadn’t seen before. “A star and a cat. Got it,” you whispered, dipping your brush into white paint. You reached out carefully to steady his face, tilting it slightly toward the light. Your fingers lightly touched his cheek, and you couldn’t ignore the spark that jolted through you at the contact.

Jungwon closed his eyes briefly, letting out a small breath. You tried to ignore the slight flush you felt creeping up your neck, focusing on drawing a perfect star on his left cheek. You painted in silence, but every so often, he’d open his eyes and glance at you, making your heart race each time.

With one cheek finished, you moved to the other side. He leaned in closer, giving you the perfect angle. The space between you seemed to shrink with every second, the sounds of the bustling festival fading into a distant hum. You were hyper-aware of everything—the faint scent of his cologne, the warmth radiating from him, and how your fingers gently brushed his skin. When you finished with the stars, you pulled back slightly to look at your work, meeting his gaze as you did.

“They look good,” he murmured, his voice softer than usual.

You swallowed, breaking eye contact to reach for a new brush and dip it in black paint. “Now for the cat,” you said, trying to stay calm. “Hold still.”

You carefully moved to part his hair at the center of his forehead. As your fingers brushed through his bangs, you froze, your eyes widening as you saw something strange—a small patch of his dark hair was shifting, lightening to a soft honey-blonde under your touch.

“Um… Jungwon,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you stared at the transformed lock of hair falling against his forehead. “Your hair…”

“What about it?” He turned to you with a hint of confusion, glancing up as if trying to catch a glimpse of the change. “Did I mess it up?”

You shook your head, the words tangling in your throat as disbelief washed over you. “It’s… it’s changing color.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard, then brushed his fingers through the area you’d touched. His movements stilled, the warmth in his expression fading, replaced by something deeper—something unreadable. The air thickened around you, a heavy silence filled with unspoken questions.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly, his gaze searching yours as if trying to decode the truth hidden beneath your surprise.

You nodded slowly, your heart racing. “Yeah, I… I thought it was just the paint at first, but… it’s definitely not.”

The realization hung in the air, electric and palpable, igniting a spark of tension that sent shivers down your spine. Jungwon’s fingers gently traced the newly lightened strands of hair, his expression a mix of wonder and trepidation. You could feel your pulse quicken, an exhilarating rush flooding through you as you grasped the meaning behind this strange phenomenon.

Time seemed to stretch in that moment, each heartbeat echoing like a drum in your chest. Here he was, the boy you’d admired from afar, unexpectedly transformed before your eyes. Jungwon—the one who had unwittingly painted your world in vibrant colors, now literally changing right in front of you.

Suddenly, self-consciousness washed over you like a cold wave. You averted your gaze, stepping back instinctively. “I—I should go finish with the others. They’re probably waiting for me…” Your voice wavered, betraying the rush of emotions threatening to spill over.

Before you could dwell on it, a paint container wobbled on the edge of the table, knocking into your elbow. In your panic, you stumbled, sending brushes and colors sprawling over yourself. “Oh no!” you yelped, scrambling to clean up the mess.

“Y/N, wait!” Jungwon exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise. He stepped closer, his hand closing around yours, halting your frantic movements. “Stop. Just breathe.”

His grip was steadying, grounding you amidst the chaos of your racing thoughts. “Let’s find somewhere quiet, okay? You need to clean up.” His voice held a calmness that contrasted sharply with the storm inside you.

You felt a rush of warmth at his concern, but your mind spun with confusion. “But… the booth—”

“Trust me,” he said, his gaze unwavering, a silent promise passing between you. “Just for a moment. Let’s talk.”

With a nod, you allowed him to guide you away from the festival’s noise, your heart racing not just from the moment, but from the undeniable connection building between you. The thrill of discovery was tempered by the anxiety of what it all meant, and yet, in Jungwon’s presence, you felt something shift—something new and exciting, just waiting to be explored.

He led you through a quieter section of the campus, where the walls were lined with colorful murals painted by students, the air filled with the faint scent of paint and creativity. The laughter and chatter from the festival faded into the background, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves overhead and the distant sound of music drifting from the booths.

As you turned a corner, Jungwon paused, the air around you suddenly thick with anticipation. He glanced around, ensuring you were alone, then leaned against the cool brick wall, his posture relaxed yet focused. His gaze locked onto yours, intensity radiating from him. “My hair… it’s slowly turning blond. Isn’t this what soulmate marks are supposed to be like?”

His words hung in the air, electrifying the space between you. You felt the weight of the moment press down, your heart racing like a wild drum in your chest. “Right… your soulmate mark,” you stammered, the tremor in your voice betraying the chaos inside. “I didn’t want to say anything because I thought it might just be a coincidence, but now… it's all starting to make sense.”

Jungwon stepped closer, the seriousness in his expression deepening. “You mean you knew?” His voice was low, the edge of urgency evident. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

The air crackled with tension, and you felt your pulse quicken. “I didn’t know it was you! I thought—” you cut yourself off, frustration bubbling within you. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship or make things awkward. You’ve been my crush longer than you’ve been a friend. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep things from being awkward with you, especially when my mark changed?”

Jungwon’s expression shifted, vulnerability breaking through his confidence. “Your mark... is it.… when did it change? Am I—was it before… or after we met?” His voice was tight, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.

You took a deep breath, feeling the memories rush back. “The day you carried me to the nurse’s office, you idiot.”

He blinked, taken aback by your response. “Wait… that day? But I thought...”

His expression softened slightly, the intensity in his eyes shifting as he took a step closer. You held your breath as he knelt down, his fingers hovering over your soulmate mark. The moment felt electric, a mix of vulnerability and anticipation coursing through you.

“Can I…?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, giving him permission to touch it. As his fingers brushed against your skin, a shiver ran down your spine. Jungwon chuckled softly, the sound breaking some of the tension between you. “Can you believe this? It feels just like yesterday when I accidentally hit my crush with a soccer ball at her knees,” he said, shaking his head with a bemused smile. “The same crush I’ve wanted to approach since 10th grade but was always too afraid to mess up, especially with how she glares at boys.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the image of a younger Jungwon fumbling with his words as he tried to impress you suddenly vivid in your mind. “I didn’t mean to scare you off,” you admitted, your heart swelling with warmth. “I thought you were just… confident, you know?”

He shrugged, a hint of shyness creeping back into his demeanor. “I try to be. But it’s hard when you’re crushing on someone who’s out of your league.”

“Out of my league?” you repeated, incredulous. “Jungwon, you’re the captain of the soccer team! Everyone looks up to you.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m not nervous around you,” he replied, his gaze locking onto yours, sincerity pouring from his words. “It’s different with you. You make me want to be better.”

The air between you thickened with unspoken emotions, each heartbeat echoing the connection that had always been there, waiting to be acknowledged. You both stood on the edge of something monumental, the laughter of the festival fading away, leaving only the two of you and the promise of what lay ahead.

The next day, Jungwon strolled confidently down the hallway, his head of hair transformed into a stunning honeyed blonde that turned heads with every step. The shift was striking—bold, noticeable, and oddly fitting—making it seem as though he had always intended to embrace this change. Whispers and awestruck glances followed him like a gentle wave, yet beneath that cool exterior, you could see the spark of mischief in his eyes, especially when they met yours.

“Wow, he really went all out,” Arin murmured beside you, her voice a mix of surprise and admiration. “He must’ve bleached the whole thing. I didn’t think Jungwon had that in him.”

You nodded, trying to maintain your composure while your heart raced. “Yeah… surprising, isn’t it?” you replied, though a smile betrayed your nonchalance as you watched him navigate the crowd like he owned the place.

Unaware of the true significance of his transformation, your classmates continued their commentary. “Looks good on him, though,” one girl remarked, her tone infused with genuine admiration. “Like he was meant to have it all along.”

Jungwon seemed completely unfazed by the attention, wearing his new look with a blend of pride and ease, as if his blonde hair was a badge of honor that only you understood. It was a mark that connected the two of you in ways that no one else could fathom—an intimate secret wrapped in boldness.

As the hallway thinned out, he lingered by his locker, his casual demeanor slipping just a bit as he caught your gaze from across the hall. He lifted a hand, brushing back his hair with an effortless charm that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach—a subtle nod to the secret you shared.

You walked over, your heart pounding just a little faster than usual. “It suits you,” you said, keeping your voice low, the air between you thick with unspoken words.

His eyes softened, gratitude shimmering in their depths. “Good to know,” he murmured, his tone low but filled with warmth. “After all, it’s your fault it looks this good.”

A faint blush crept up your cheeks at his words, and before you could respond, he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice even more as he added, “And don’t worry. The secret’s safe.”

In that crowded hallway, with laughter and footsteps echoing around you, it felt like you and Jungwon were enveloped in your own little world. His blonde hair, like a silent vow, was a reminder of what only the two of you understood: a hidden connection, pulsing with promise and anticipation, waiting to be explored.

[tyrannuspitch]

okay i've used the word homophobia to talk about a specifically bisexual character too many times recently, so let's talk about potential manifestations of specific *biphobia* in asgard.

please note that i have done no extra research on this (yet?), i'm just extrapolating from what i know about historical ergi stigma (and what i've already extrapolated from not very detailed info on that!), so this is firmly historically *inspired* fantasy territory.

i'm going to leave aside the matter of gender-conforming stone top msm for the moment, because while they are a group who Exist, they're pretty distinctly queer by modern western standards and straight by asgardian standards, which is kind of messy and not the central point here. (also, top/bottom/vers is not a question applicable to all possible sex acts, so the exact requirements of your stone top no-homo-ing are unclear; and the question of identity based in action vs identity based in desire is also possibly complicated, imo a lot more complicated than people tend to give it credit for... it's just super messy okay.)

instead, as the closest equivalent to "bisexual men", let us consider men who a) are definitely queer by asgardian standards (feminine and/or interacting with men as a vers or bottom) and b) are interacting romantically/sexually with women.

a number of possibilities for an asgardian opinion on them:

1: modern-style bi erasure. pffft, this relationship is clearly fake. a queer man could never be a REAL partner to a woman, so either she's covering for him out of pity or he's fooled her.

on one hand, i feel like this is slightly less likely than in the modern day, because it does seem to centre attraction as definitive of queerness, and hence the idea that you can only engage with one gender. on the other hand, the idea that queer and straight men are deeply, fundamentally different with no overlap is very affirming to straight men. so perhaps this could still be one manifestation.

1b. bi erasure specifically through inadequacy. it's not that we don't think queer men WANT women, it's just that they'll never be good enough for them. maybe he's got her fooled for now, but she'll realise soon enough.

these two options mostly invite ridicule, but could escalate into violence towards either partner to try and "prove" what a "real man" is.

2. a sense of threat / unfairness. women are only meant to like masculine men, but this feminine man DOES have a female partner. how? why is this feminine man reaping the rewards of masculinity?

2a. in which the fem man is a usurper and a sinister, dishonourable threat who is stealing/corrupting the woman. the woman is assumed to be victim but probably also victim-blamed, like an antieffeminate spin on the "woman hate nice guys" trope.

2b. in which we do Gender Arithmetic and decide that a fem man could only possibly be partnered with a masc woman. now the woman is the sinister usurper of masc/male power, and the man is the weak/foolish traitor allowing it. in theory, this relationship would be comedic, but actual examples of it would be extremely threatening.

this also raises the most interesting possibility to me - an attitude parallel to modern mononormativity, but instead of claiming that you can only truly be attracted to one gender, it claims that you can only truly play one gendered sexual role. a queer man must ALWAYS be a fem sub bottom, whether his partner is a man or a woman - so a man being queer proves a male partner of his straight, but makes a female partner appear queer too. which from a modern perspective is pretty wild!

anyway. these two options frame the relationship as a more direct threat, and as such, are more likely to result in violence (or to result in it sooner, or worse.) this is especially true if both partners are being interpreted as queer here.

lacking any historical info as pointers, i feel like all of these options are fairly plausible. and all, independently, pretty fucked up.

i'm not sure how to wrap up this post, but in general, when considering ergi stigma, i think it's important to account for the fact that (perceived) gender expression is central, not attraction, so being in an m/f relationship is not necessarily going to do much to protect you. which is also true of modern real-world biphobia to an extent - people can and frequently do experience biphobia in m/f relationships, and i'd be willing to bet there's at least one modern real-world example of every single specific attitude i described here, even if they're not all common. but the irrelevance of relationship status does bear repeating, especially when the central definition of ergi is often euphemised as "passive homosexual". like, yes, but no. it's not just about that act. it's about the gendered implications of that act, which, once acquired, can set you apart forever.

[kabr0ztrousers]

a fem!reader getting captured in a cave by a well endowed male lamia (with two cocks of course), using his immense strength to keep her bound up while he uses her like a fleshlight for who knows how long (it’s real dark in the cave so when she’s drifting in and out of consciousness due to exhaustion, she has no way of knowing how much time has passed)

Kabr0z Writes Episode 75: Snakes in a Cave

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: Noncon; breeding; kidnap; imprisonment; bondage; intox; envenomation; impregnation

A/N: You mightn't have thought this was going to be yesterday's bonus, but has been giving me such difficulty!

##########################################

You'd never been caving before. You much preferred the open sky above you, but your friends had managed to cajole you into following them to their subterranean hobby. Of course, when your body includes seven feet of undulating tail dragging behind you, getting gear that fits is a bit of a pain. Nevertheless, they managed and so you descended with them. Headlamp and helmet strapped tightly under your chin, you negotiated your long, sinusoidal body down the narrow cave. It felt a shame to hide your emerald scales from the sunlight, but your body was well adapted for the dark tunnels under the earth.

You remembered stories your grandmother told you as a girl, how hundreds of years ago Nagas ruled the caves beneath mankind, first emerging some decades after magic started returning to the surface, joining the minotaurs, the catmen, and the werewolves. It fed into the stories everyone learns at school; one part myth, one part history, detailing the first appearances of what modern society would refer to as "variants" - though the term encompasses everyone with human intellect but not-entirely-human physiology, an umbrella so large as to be functionally useless.

You were last into the cave, your tail made it almost impractical for anyone to follow you. Thankfully, you're a strong climber as it turns out. Your body moved so easily through the caves it was hard not to believe this is what you were built for. You slid this way and that, following the man in front of you.

You yelped. A spider the size of your open hand had shot between you and your friend. It only took a moment to carry on its way, but it was long enough that you lost sight of the boots in front of you as they disappeared into the gloom. You listened out, able to hear the scrambling men in front of you. Following on was simple enough, right? You sure hoped so as you slithered on, flat chest held against the rockface as you slid through gaps just wide enough to fit through, the cold rock pressing in to you on both sides.

It never occurred to you that the men you were supposedly following were both quite substantially broader than you, nor how they said they were following an introductory route, with no tight squeezes. This became all too clear when the tunnel spat you out into a wider opening, tumbling down to the bottom of a cavern. You landed on your back, tail lay out, staring at the hole in the ceiling that dropped you here.

You looked around, the cave walls were bare. The only light was coming from your headlamp, anemic and yellow-tinged. You got up, slowly moving around the perimeter of the room. There were a couple of ways onwards from here, but you felt it's a better idea to stay put. The thought of being lost down here chilled you, even more than the cool stone under you. Hopefully staying put and not getting more lost would help.

You gave up staring down the crevice, turning back to the centre of the room.

You screamed.

A naga stood at the other end of the room. Tall and pale, his wide eyes milky white, forked tongue tasting the air. He could sense you, even without sight, sliding towards you, in no hurry to close the gap. You tried to squeeze into then gap, making a little progress before he grabbed your tail, yanking you backwards as your nails scraped the sides. Inch by inch you slid back into the cavern. The pale serpent gripped you tight, claws digging in to you. He drew you into his grasp, wrapping you in his tail as you struggled in vain against the muscular body intertwining yours. He bit your shoulder, cold numbness radiating from the site as his paralytic venom took hold. Your arm went to sleep, then your neck started to ache, followed by the other arm, then your tail began to shut down, losing control over its movements as the toxin shut down your motor neurons. You felt the naga holding you, almost gently as he wrapped himself tighter around your body.

He was stripping off your clothes, little by little, starting by revealing your body, then the form-fitting skirt around your hips, revealing your genital slit as the twin shafts of his cock stood to meet it.

His hand strayed to your slit, gently parting the lips, testing the supple flesh within. Was it the venom making you wet? You hoped so. Either way, you could feel him pressing two fingers into you with ease, rubbing your moisture around your opening, readying you for him. His body moved around yours, pressing the double-shafted cock against you.

The shafts slid into your welcoming body, fitting like a jigsaw piece. You gasped a little as it filled you, better than your baseliner boyfriend ever could, the twin shafts finding their marks inside you. Just because your body wasn't listening to you, didn't mean it wasn't sending sensation back. You felt every inch of the ribbed, tapering hemipene as he gyrated next to you, sliding it in and out, unhurried in all things. You aren't going anywhere, after all.

His cocks felt amazing, pressing and probing in ways you'd never felt before. It was like you were made for him. Your eyes rolled in your head, your tail twitching as you approached your peak, cunt squeezing against him as you came around him. You felt his cocks spasm inside, starting to fill you with his seed. He bit you again, more venom flowing into your body, knocking you out.

You woke up, he was still around you, soft cocks still inside you. You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but only succeeded in waking the sleeping snake. He dosed you again with his fangs, needling into the meat of your shoulder again as the familiar numbness took you again. Again, he started slowly thrusting in and out, picking up speed at the grunts and moans that escaped you as your breath caught and your body responded to his. Again, you spasmed and shook as orgasm took you over, milking him into you as he gave you more of his venom, putting you out for another spell.

Again and again the cycle repeated, each time you woke he'd stir again, or already be midway through having his way with you. The light on your helmet long since went out.

Every so often he wouldn't be there when you woke, only to return some hours later with some variety of rat or other cave-dwelling rodent he'd swallow down, before tossing the other paralysed creature to you. Eventually he stopped biting you before having his way. Eventually you started to let him.

And so time went on, fucktoy for a blind, almost feral naga. You could feel the eggs moving inside you, fertile with your brood.

This is your life now

########################################

Yeah, yeah, this should've gone up like 7 hours ago, but I literally fell asleep after finishing it

Expect tonight's episode tonight, I guess?

[lara635kookie]

K-Profiles for Kpop Demon Hunters with my headcanons part 2: (People please keep in mind that we know way more about the girls than about them, so aside from Jinu, the other guys I based purely on my imagination, guesses and the vibes I got from them and with time I'll update with the canon)

Saja Boys Members Profile (Updated!)

Saja Boys Members Profile and Facts

Saja Boys (사자 보이즈) is a South Korean 5-member boy group under 2M Entertainment. The group consists of Jinu, Abby, Baby, Romance, and Mystery. The Saja Boys debuted on XX/XX/2025 with the lead single "Soda Pop" on the mini album "Saja Storm."

Group Name Meaning: Saja means "lion," who is a symbol of bravery, courage, fierceness, power, and domination.

Official Greeting: "We're your lions. Hello, we are the Saja Boys!"

("우리는 사자예요. 안녕하세요, 사자 보이즈입니다!")

Saja Boys Official Fandom Name: Pride (자부심)

Fandom Name Meaning: The Saja Boys, the lions, are the protectors who protect the souls of their fans, and their fans support them with all pride and give them strength to go on.

Saja Boys Official Color: Red.

Saja Boys Official Dorm Arrangement (Since 2025): Jinu and Abby share Dorm 1. Baby, Romance, and Mystery share Dorm 2.

Saja Boys Official Logo:

Saja Boys Official Accounts:

Instagram: @thesajaboys

YouTube: Saja Boys

X (Twitter): @sajaboysofficial

Facebook: @sajaboysofficial

Official website: 2ment.sajaboys.com

Official fancafe: Saja Boys

Tik Tok: @thesajaboys

Weverse: Saja Boys

Saja Boys Members Profile:

Jinu

Stage Name: Jinu (진우)

Birth Name: Choi Jinu (최진우)

English Name: Paul Choi

Position(s): Main Vocal, Leader, Center, Face of the Group, Visual

Birthday: 17/08/2002

Zodiac Sign: Leo

Chinese Zodiac Sign: Horse

Height: 188cm (6'2")

Weight: 70kg (154lbs)

Blood Type: AB+

MBTI Type: ENTJ

Nationality:Korean-Canadian

Color: Black #000000

Instagram: @paulchoijinu

Jinu Facts:

- Jinu is born in Seoul, South Korea.

- When he was 7 years old, his family moved to Canada, so he was raised in Toronto, Ontario.

- He is fluent in Korean, English, French and Japanese.

- For his killer and almost hypnotizing charisma and magnetism, he's been nicknamed "X Generation It Boy", "The Prince of Korea" and "Korea's Number One Charmer".

- He is a classical music enthusiast.

- Since his childhood, he's been musically gifted, not only having a versatile voice but also being a prodigy in playing bipa, lute, mandolin, violin, cello, and harp.

- He graduated from The Glenn Gould School and almost went to college at The Royal Music Conservatory in Toronto, but decided to become an idol in Korea instead.

- He described his ideal type as a girl who is authetic, passionate and intense.

- Since XX/XX/2025 he's been an MC for KBS Music Bank with HUNTRIX's Rumi, both of them being praised for their professionalism and chemistry.

- His duet with HUNTRIX's Rumi of the Saja Boys "Soda Pop", their first MC Stage, went viral.

- He is a global ambassador for Gucci, Valentino, Jacquemus and Ralph Lauren.

- He is a hapkido black belt.

- According to the other members, his cooking skills are superb, being the group's "personal chef".

- He's been on the cover of GQ Korea.

- Due to his recent debut as an actor, he went to the Cannes Festival.

- He was rumored to be dating Korean-British actress Samantha Rachel Hari Shin, or simply Samantha Shin, one of his co-stars for the movie "X" in which they have a song together in the sound track, what 2M firmly denied.

- Aside from the irony of the group's symbol being a lion, his favorite animals are tigers because they represent strength and in Korean mythology they are seen as a protector against evil spirits and a guardian of good fortune. He also likes birds a lot.

- He likes to study ancient Korean History, specially myths about mystical beings.

See more Jinu fun facts...

Abby

Stage Name: Abby (애비)

Birth Name: Abbott Park

Korean Name: Park Abeom (박아범)

Position(s): Lead Vocal, Visual, Rapper

Birthday: 20/06/2005

Zodiac Sign: Gemini

Chinese Zodiac Sign: Rooster

Height: 190cm (6'3")

Weight: 80kg (176lbs)

Blood Type: B-

MBTI Type: ENTP

Nationality:Korean-Australian

Color: Yellow #FFFF00

Instagram: @abeompark

Abby Facts:

- Abby's birth location in Korea is unknown, but he was adopted by an Australian-Korean couple and raised in Sydney with his adoptive family.

- He used to suffer bullying due to his name in the past and almost changed, but instead decided to embrace it proudly.

- According to the other members, he is the most fashionable of the group, taking the longest to get ready.

- He loves to practice sports in his free time.

- It was revealed he wanted to be a professional athlete and go to the Olympics one day, but he decided to become an idol instead.

- The other members described him as a golden retrivier.

- Due to his athletic background, he is very competitive and won ISAC (Idol Star Athletic Championships) in ssireum (korean wrestling).

- He described his ideal type as a girl who is tall and assertive.

- His family has a golden retrivier.

- His favorite sport is surfing.

- He is the most active member in social media, frequently making lives on Instagram.

- Abby can speak English, Korean, KSL (Korean Sign Language) and Australian Sign Language (AUSLAN) due to his father being deaf.

- Due to his father's condition, he has always been very vocal about accessibility and inclusivity, specially for the deaf community.

-He knows the basics of Japanese, Chinese, Thai, Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, Latin and even some Australian Aboriginal languages due to his graduation from The Australian International School.

- He is a global ambassador for Calvin Klein, Burberry, Armani and Ferragamo.

- He has been on the cover for GQ Australia.

- He loves to watch Formula 1 and his favorite F1 driver of all time is Ayrton Senna.

- He's been allegedly linked to HUNTRIX'S Mira, just like Romance, according to insiders, information neither 2M or Sunlight has released statements about.

See more Abby fun facts...

Baby

Stage Name: Baby (아기)

Birth Name: Kwon Seong-ho (권성호)

English Name: Samuel Kwon

Position(s): Main Rapper, Lead Dancer, Vocalist, Maknae

Birthday: 09/03/2006

Zodiac Sign: Pisces

Chinese Zodiac Sign: Dog

Height: 181 (5'11")

Weight: 65kg (143lbs)

Blood Type: O+

MBTI Type: ISTP

Nationality: Korean

Color: Seafoam #3DED97

Instagram: @seong_hokwon

Baby Facts:

- Baby was born in Busan, South Korea.

- His dance specialties include hip-hop, popping, krump, and contemporary fusion.

- Fans often call him a panther because of his feline-like, precise dance moves and sharp gaze.

- A known foodie, especially passionate about street food — his vlog series about it is a fan favorite.

- He wants to get a tattoo in the future.

- He is a global ambassador for Prada, Jean Paul Gaultier and Schiaparelli.

- Before his debut, Seong-ho participated in the MNET reality show series "Stage Fighter", being one of the winning contestants.

- At first he wanted to be a soloist rapper, but was persuaded by 2M to join the group.

- Kendrick Lamar's Remix Version "Not Like Us feat. Seong-ho of Saja Boys" went viral, specially on Tik Tok.

- His cute appearance aside, he prefers when the group goes for a darker concept.

- He is fluent in Korean and English due to his time as an exchange student in New Zealand.

- He graduated high school from the ACG Parnell College.

- He is the member that can handle spice the best.

- He loves to read and often gives fans book recommendations on his live streams.

- He is a football fan and his favorite player is Lionel Messi.

- As he is the shortest member, he often uses hats on his head to look taller.

- He is really smart, with an IQ of 150.

- Baby can reach more than 10 SPS (syllabes per second).

See more Baby fun facts...

Romance

Stage Name: Romance (로맨스)

Birth Name: Lee Yong-jae (이용재)

Position(s): Lead Rapper, Vocalist, Dancer

Birthday: 01/11/2004

Zodiac Sign: Scorpio

Chinese Zodiac Sign: Monkey

Height: 185cm (6'1")

Weight: 68kg (149lbs)

Blood Type: A-

MBTI Type: ISTJ

Nationality: Korean

Color: White #FFFFFF

Instagram: @leeyong_jjae

Romance Facts:

- He is born and raised in Daegu, South Korea.

- His hobbies include photography and making sculptures.

- He is ambidextrous, being able to perfectly master anything with both of his hands.

- He prefers to keep his hair long and is always dying it.

- Romance is a global ambassador for Loewe and Versace.

- The other members described him as a "flirt" and a "heartthrob", so much that he adopted a heart as his official symbol.

- According to the other guys, he wears his heart on his sleeves and is a ladies men.

- He knows a lot about gardening.

- His favorite flower are Asian Bleeding Hearts.

- His groupmates tease him about his knowledge about flowers being only to impress girls.

- He is the member who loves fashion the most, even having his own collection with Versace.

- When it comes to fashion, he also promotes a lot of Korean national brands he has worked with.

- He can speak Korean, English and is conversational in Afrikaans and Zulu due to his time modelling in South Africa as a teen.

- It is rumored he wants to make an exhibition of his photographs and sculptures soon.

- One of his dreams is to collab with Ed Sheeran.

- His favorite movie is the 2019 Oscar Winner "Parasite".

- He loves to play videogames and has an Xbox and a Playstation.

- He makes lives on Twitch playing games such as "Resident Evil", "The Last of Us", "FIFA", etc.

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Mystery

Stage Name: Min-kyu (민규)

Birth Name: Han Min-kyu (한민규)

Position(s): Main Dancer, Vocalist, Rapper

Birthday: 30/12/2004

Zodiac Sign: Capricorn

Chinese Zodiac Sign: Monkey

Height: 183cm (6'0")

Weight: 67kg (147lbs)

Blood Type: AB-

MBTI Type: INTJ

Nationality: Korean

Color: Silver #C0C0C0

Instagram: @mkhanminkyu

Mystery Facts:

- Mystery is born in Incheon, South Korea.

- He loves to sleep and is often described as a sleepy head.

- According to him, he's only energetic when he dances.

- He goes full out when he's dancing, being praised by his versatility and already considered one of the best kpop dancers of his generation.

- His favorite dance style is break dancing.

- He has worked with famous choreographers like Kyle Hanagami, a close friend of his.

- Mystery has a sweet tooth, and he loves any type of desserts.

- He is the most introvert and shy member of the group, but according to the Saja Boys members, he is a menace.

- Him and Abby often box together.

- Despite his bangs, his hair leaves little spaces he can still see through.

- He is a global ambassador for Marc Jacobs and Miu Miu.

- His chess skills are exceptional.

- Mystery is good at equitation.

- He is a certified geek and he has a lot of action figures and miniatures he loves to collect.

- He participated in the choreographing process for some artists in the west, such as Normani and Tate McRae.

- His dream collaborations are Rihanna, Shakira and Britney Spears.

- His childhood dream was to be an astronaut.

- He likes to keep his hair long so no one knows what he's looking at, but he said he's usually stargazing and he likes astronomy.

See more Mystery fun facts...

As I said, Jinu is the one we got the most material to work with, specially because he's pretty much almost Ahn Hyo-seop fully head to toe, but with the other ones I'm completely in the dark, but I tried my best and I hope you liked it, so anyway here is the poll, vote wisely

[kirbmey]

une lecture d'été — dad’sassistant!zayne

synopsis: where zayne is your dads assistant for the summer while you stay at your vacay home back in france; on an especially hot day you ask him to read for you on the pool ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა

tw: suggestive (what did u expect from me atp), heavily based on call me by your name, zayne’s around 30 and reader is 20, 80’s setting, he’s a bit of a tease, etc.

june 10th, woke up at 6 am to catch a ride towards your family summer house in crema, a quiet countryside town in france.

it was nothing new since you used to go every summer and every winter with your parents, to have a break from the busy city back at home.

but this time it felt different, more exciting. your father, a very well known history and archeology professor, was having his internship assistant over to show him the ancient ruins that decorated the nearby beaches your family loved to visit on the heatwaves.

who would this man be, old or young? with saddening or cheerful features? long or short hair? tall? fit? well spoken? you couldn’t stop daydreaming about how he’d look.

the name ‘zayne’ became part of your father’s vocabulary some months ago, praising his ideas and hard work at almost every dinner.

you heard so much about him you felt like you actually knew him already, knowing that he wore shirts most days to the lectures (way too open for your father’s liking), that there was always a watch surrounding his wrist. you even knew when he cut or trimmed his hair, your dad paying attention to every detail and loving a little bit of gossip.

once you three arrived to the white old looking villa you skipped happily towards the tall entryway, excited to finally breathe in the scent of the sea and feel the humidity stick to your skin and hair.

what you didn’t expect when your housemaid opened the door was to see a young and tall gentleman sitting in the lobby, reading a national geographic magazine trough a pair of black framed glasses.

“jesus, zayne, how unexpected to see you here already!” your father laughed loudly as he approached him, noticing on how said assistant wanted to shake hands, the older man going for a tight hug instead.

“sorry if this was too sudden, I’ve been really excited about coming here. the housemaid even showed me the library you’ve got, it’s amazing.” he said apologetically, corresponding the hug and flashing a wide smile, taking in the way his canines where shaped.

you just stood there pretending you were waiting for your mother who was catching up with the housemaid, watching both masculine figures slowly walk away while talking about some book you couldn’t hear much about.

later at night you decided to make your first move, going down the noisy wooden stairs with excitement to show off your summer dress, walking through the long hallways decorated with swinging lacy white curtains.

there was only him sitting on the patio table, reading again, a book with a deep blue cover this time. the title could read “mythos”, a volume of myths your dad used to read you so you could sleep at night when you were too afraid of the dark.

you chose to sit down next to him, gaining his attention and a little smile momentarily before he went back to his reading. you stretched to grab a piece of homemade bread from the table as you spoke in a shy voice.

“y’know, my dad used to read that book to me when i was younger.” now he paid full attention to you, staring at your cherry cola eyes and putting the tome down.

“aren’t you young still?” he teased smirking, noticing how your cheeks heated at the comment. he lowly chuckled, sipping his wine before speaking again.

“sorry, haven’t introduced myself yet, i’m zayne, your dads—”, “assistant, i know, you’re the only person he’s been talking about lately.” you accidentally interrupt him; he didn’t mind if it meant he could listen to you honey-like voice a little bit more.

“uh, is that so?” he sifted his position on the chair, turning to look at you directly while crossing one leg over the other, doing the same thing with his arms. his biceps noticeable under the white fabric of his shirt.

“yup, i know so much about you already.” you said without thinking too much. wasn’t it weird to say such a thing to a man you just met?

“well, i hope i can get to know many things about you as well.” he lightly responded, drifting his gaze to the opposite sight when he saw you parents approaching the lame table.

dinner was easier to get through than you expected, the chicken moira, the housemaid, cooked too delicious to bother on speaking or participating in conversations.

it wasn’t too late yet, but you were already feeling sleepy, so you excused yourself and took slow steps to your bedroom, gaining a ‘good night’ from everyone, even zayne.

he was all you could think about when you laid down on the spring mattress, rolling around as you made stupid scenarios in your head about how good and warm and tight a hug from him would feel, about how soft his dark locks had to be, about how big and nice and strong his hands were…

needless to say, you didn’t sleep much that night, finally drifting away imagining the pillow you were hugging was the assistant’s chest.

june 11th, woke up at 8 am sweating horribly. you easily felt hot, and it was no help when humidity was the thing that predominated in that side of the country.

so you stood up, washed your face and teeth and dressed with a simple white bikini to hit the swimming pool after having breakfast; zayne wasn’t at the table that morning and you couldn’t help but feel annoyed.

after a few minutes you ran towards the pool thrilled, getting some reprimands from your parents to which you made def ears.

you jumped inside, got refreshed and let the water wake up your senses before noticing a figure reclining in one of the lounge chairs once your head was out.

it was the man you missed so much earlier, naked chest, unbuttoned deep blue shirt and a pair of bermuda shorts decorating his beautiful body, accompanied by black sunglasses and, of course, yesterday’s book.

“careful, lady, you don’t want to ruin the pages of your dad’s book now, do you?” he said while he sat down on the edge of said lounge chair, taking off his glasses to look at the heavely imagine in front of him; you, all wet.

believe it or not, he couldn’t stop thinking about you last night, either. something about you vainilla perfume and your adorable voice got stuck in his head.

and yeah, he also made stupid scenarios about you. wanted to know what was your favorite chapter from the tome you father gave him, to ask what you were studying; and wanted to know your name that you didn’t share the night prior.

“sorry, didn’t notice you there…” you mumbled, approaching the pool’s trim to look up to him from underneath, laying your head on top of your arms. were you teasing him, perhaps?

“that’s okay, don’t worry.” he simply said. a few minutes of an uncomfortable silence, you stared at the tile floor while he stared at you, talking a little bit softer this time. “did you sleep well?”

“actually? no. been rolling around my bed all night.” you mutter while tracing the trim’s pattern with a finger. he just hums not really knowing how to respond and there’s another awkward silence that you happen to break this time.

“could you read f’me, zaynie, please?” maybe his tender voice reading one of the already known chapters would help you sleep tonight; you weren’t shy to ask ‘cause you noticed his gaze on you the whole time.

he simply nodded, not wanting to ruin the intimate moment you both managed to build so quickly, pulling the lounge chair closer to the edge were you rested so he could shield your delicate skin from the burning sun.

you tried your best to not fall asleep, his american accent and the way he rolled the r’s a relaxing sound that calmed your brain.

both of you shared your thoughts on the different chapters, telling him stories from your childhood when he reached a page your dad used to exaggerate his voice to, the assistant feeling like he knew you now a little bit better.

zayne found himself on the obligation to finish up the reading season when he noticed the sun going down and your eyes slowly closing, reaching a hand to caress your cheek with a thumb to make you look up to him.

and so you did, pushing in the comforting touch of his palm and getting out of the now kinda cold water with his help, thanking him as you felt a big towel surrounding your smaller frame.

he wouldn’t admit he maybe stared at your eyes locking with his from above for way too long, or the way your breast’s pressed against the tile wall from the pool and took you to dinner. here you were again.

sat down together again, ate leftover chicken again, but you didn’t remain quiet this time, joining the conversation to share thoughts with the three other people at the table.

zayne scooted closer to you little by little, brushed his leg with yours and even dared to rub your knee under the table, hiding from your parents lurking eyes; they knew something was going on but didn’t really worried about it. they liked him for you.

summer passed away too fast for your preference, getting caught up in the nights you sneaked into zayne’s bedroom and shared not-so-innocent kisses from time to time, listening to him read while you painted your nails or brushed your hair, going along the expeditions your dad took him to so you could walk with him by the shore.

now, you were always glued to the landline talking to him while you impatiently waited for winter to share your days with him again when you weren’t visiting him at college, getting scolded by your father every time he saw you there.

a/n: i wrote this with someone else in mind, but decided to change to zayne last minute ( ;´ - `;)

— masterlist.

[former-leftist-jew]

You know they speak Arabic in Morocco for the same reason they speak French in Canada, right?

Bonus points:

Nazi dumbfuck

It’s like Zionists have one strategy when their ideology manifests as genocide. Israel is a racial separatist state. It practices apartheid and ethnic cleansing, that’s why fascists like it. A two-birds (a flock of birds)-one stone scenario for fascists is that the state of Israel encourages self-deportation of Jews, has an incredibly consequential lobby in American politics, is committing an obvious yet somehow easy-to-deny genocide of Muslims, and does all of that while forcefully claiming it is nothing less than synonymous with Judaism itself.

Zionism is Jewish Mormonism.

I can’t believe I didn’t realize that until this ask. I won’t elaborate unless someone asks in good faith and gives me like a week to write an essay, but I’ll stand by that analysis.

Lmao.

[mononijikayu]

chasing heaven — geto suguru.

“You shouldn’t love me.” he finally said, his voice low, almost pained. “It’s unequal. I would taint your name, your reputation. You’re much younger than me, and you deserve someone who can offer you the future you deserve. I can’t… I’m not looking to marry, not now. I have my duties, my career—” “I don’t care about any of that.” you interrupted, your voice firmer now, driven by the strength of your feelings. “I don’t care about reputation or duty. I only care about you, about what we could have together. I want you to be with me, Suguru. Not as my brother’s general, but as the man I love.”

GENRE: alternate universe - sengoku jidai au!;

WARNING/S: angst, fluff, romance, love, age-gap (reader is in her early 20s, suguru is early 30s), hurt/comfort, nsfw, mild smut, falling in love, friendship, comfort, hurt, pregnancy, sexual intercourse, protectiveness, subsequent marriage, happy ending, depictions of misogyny, depiction of pregnancy, mention of parting, mention of war, mention of misogny, mention of children, mention of seppaku, satoru is an overprotective, loving brother, general-warrior! suguru!, lady gojo! reader;

WORD COUNT: 9k words

NOTE: some of this is a bit inspired by abelard and heloise, who are like one of the most interesting love depictions and intellectuals in history. and bit of the ending came from the outlaw king??? the meeting at the beach??? yeah, we got that in the temple. i wanted to keep this short, but it ended up getting longer and longer and i feel like you're sick of reading long fics. i'll try to do better next time~ anyway, i still hope you enjoy this. i love you!!! <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip!

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

YOU THOUGHT THIS DAY WOULD NEVER COME. But somehow, it has. In the quiet stillness of the temple, you had grown accustomed to the gentle rhythms of monastic life. The mornings began with the melodic chime of bells, the scent of incense filling the air as you joined the nuns in their prayers. Your world was small, contained within the temple walls, but it was peaceful—a safe haven amidst the chaos of a warring Japan.

But that peace you knew of, in this aloof mountain temple, was shattered the day your brother came.

You had always known of him, the brother who was more myth than man, a legend whispered among the nuns, among servants, among town’s folk who visited the temple. Gojo Satoru, the warrior fighting to bring the country out of disaster, was a name that carried weight even within these sacred walls.

He was the eldest, the one your mother had borne long before the war consumed the land. But you had never met him, had only the faintest memories of a mother who held you close before the temple became your home.

When the day arrived, you were summoned to the temple gate. The nuns had prepared you, dressing you in the finest robes the temple could offer, your hair carefully arranged as befitting the sister of a warrior. They had spoken in hushed tones, reminding you of your duty, of the homage you owed to the man who was your blood, your kin. But you felt a tremor of unease, an uncertainty that gnawed at the edges of your calm.

And then he appeared.

Tall, imposing, with a presence that seemed to command the very air around him, your brother was unlike anyone you had ever seen. His hair, stark white like the snow that capped the mountains, caught the light of the setting sun.

But it was his eyes that struck you most—eyes as clear and bright as the sky itself, filled with a depth that seemed to see through you, to the very core of your being. Just like your own. You had never found anyone that looked like you before. Somehow, you were not alone anymore.

For a moment, you stood frozen, uncertain how to greet him, this man who was both a stranger and your closest kin. But then he smiled, a smile that was warm and reassuring, and something in you eased.

"You’ve grown, little sister." Satoru said, his voice gentle, as though he feared to startle you. "I was worried I wouldn't recognize you. But I suppose….I suppose it would be normal, wouldn’t it? You and I have been apart long before you were born, little one.”

You found your voice, though it came out softer than you intended. "Brother…"

The word felt foreign on your tongue, a title you had never before spoken, but it also felt right, like a missing piece sliding into place. Satoru stepped closer, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder. His touch was firm, but not unkind. 

"You will come and live with me now, hm?" he told you, his tone leaving no room for argument, but there was no harshness in it. Only certainty. “You will not be apart from me again.”

You nodded, the weight of your new reality settling over you. The life you had known, the only life you remembered, was ending. But this was your brother—your family—and though you did not know him, you knew that you owed him your loyalty, your respect.

"Yes, brother." you replied, lowering your gaze in deference.

Satoru squeezed your shoulder, his smile widening just a fraction. "Good. There’s much for us to do, but we’ll manage together, little sister.”

He turned, signaling to the men who had accompanied him, and they began to prepare for the journey. You looked back at the temple, at the nuns who had raised you, their faces serene yet tinged with sadness. They had known this day would come, had prepared you for it, but it was still a farewell, a parting of ways.

As you followed your brother, leaving the temple behind, you felt the weight of the future pressing upon you. You were no longer just the orphaned daughter raised by nuns. You were the sister of Gojo Satoru,  a daughter of the Gojo clan and that meant something in this world torn apart by war. 

And as you walked beside him, his presence a shield against the unknown, you felt a glimmer of hope that perhaps, in time, you would come to know this brother who had claimed you from the shadows of the temple.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

IT WAS A WHOLE NEW WORLD FOR YOU. But perhaps it was because you had not grown into the life that your brother had been consumed by for years. Yet you were not going to be left behind, that was a promise you made to yourself. You were going to catch up and serve your brother, as destiny had intended for you. 

It hadn’t taken long for you to prove your worth in the world your brother had thrust you into. From the moment you had joined Satoru's side, your intelligence shone like a beacon, drawing the attention of those who served him.

You were quick to grasp the intricacies of strategy, the delicate balance of politics, and the subtle art of diplomacy. Satoru, ever perceptive, saw in you the sharp mind that had been honed within the quiet confines of the temple, and he wasted no time in bringing you into his fold.

He did so without hesitation, without shame, despite the murmurs of discontent that rippled through his ranks. You were a woman in a man’s world, but Gojo Satoru was unbothered by such conventions. What mattered was that you were like him, a Gojo. And as such, you had the same power too. Perhaps it was why he trusted you more than anyone, and he made that trust clear by placing you at his side, seeking your counsel in matters great and small.

And so you sat with him, advising him openly in front of his men, your voice carrying the weight of his trust. You spoke with confidence, your mind as sharp as any blade, and Satoru listened, often nodding in agreement before issuing commands that bore your influence. It was a sight that unsettled some of his warriors—men hardened by battle, who found it difficult to reconcile the image of their fierce leader relying on the wisdom of a woman. 

But Satoru was adamant. “She is my sister, and I trust her above all.” he would say, and that was that. His word was law, and most of the men knew better than to question him. “Do not make light of my sister. A Gojo is a Gojo, regardless of sex. Do not dishonor me with your pitiful pride.”

However, the day came when your brother had to leave, called away by urgent matters elsewhere in the battlefield. He left you to lead his council in his absence, placing upon your shoulders a great responsibility. “They will listen to you, sister.” he assured you before he departed. “And if they don’t, remind them who you are.”

For a time, it seemed Satoru’s confidence in you was well-placed. You led the council with the same decisiveness and intelligence that had earned you your brother’s trust. Yet, despite your best efforts, there were those who could not look past your gender, who saw your presence at the head of the council as an affront to their honor.

The murmurs of discontent grew louder, the defiance more overt. They spoke over you, dismissed your ideas, and questioned your authority at every turn. It was subtle at first, but it quickly escalated into open disrespect. The council chamber, once a place where your voice had carried weight, became a battleground for your credibility.

You stood your ground, unyielding, but it became clear that your authority was being eroded with every passing day. The men who defied you believed that without your brother’s immediate presence, you could be undermined, your power stripped away.

It was during one of these tense council meetings, as the murmurs of dissent reached a fever pitch, that Geto Suguru intervened. Suguru, your brother’s general and most trusted right hand, had watched the unfolding situation with a quiet intensity.

He had always been a man of few words, but when he spoke, his voice commanded attention. That day, as you stood before a council of men who dared to challenge your authority, Suguru rose from his place, his expression one of stern resolve.

“Enough.”

The single word silenced the room, the weight of his presence alone enough to command respect. He stepped forward, his gaze sweeping across the gathered men, who now shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

“This woman,” Suguru began, his voice calm but edged with steel, “is not just anyone. She is Gojo Satoru’s only sister, and she speaks with his voice. Any defiance of her is a defiance of Satoru himself. And if there is a man among you who believes he can dishonor her without consequence, then he dishonors Gojo Satoru. Such a man should commit seppuku to preserve Satoru’s goodwill with him.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the implications of Suguru’s words settling over the men like a shroud. You could see the way their expressions shifted, the bravado draining from their faces as the gravity of the situation became clear. To defy you now was not just to defy a woman—it was to defy the very man they served, the man who had led them through countless battles and brought them victories beyond measure.

Suguru’s eyes bore into each of them, leaving no room for doubt. “If there are any among you who wish to test this, step forward now.”

No one moved. The silence stretched on, thick with unspoken tension. Finally, one by one, the men lowered their heads, offering the respect they had withheld before. Suguru’s gaze softened as he turned to you, a subtle nod of reassurance in his eyes. You returned the nod, grateful for his intervention, knowing that his words had restored your authority where it had been threatened.

From that day forward, the council meetings proceeded with the respect you had earned, the respect that Suguru had demanded on your behalf. The men no longer questioned your place at the head of the table, for they knew that to do so was to challenge not just you, but Satoru himself.

And in those moments, as you continued to lead in your brother’s stead, you felt the strength of your bond with him, a bond forged not just by blood, but by the unwavering trust that had brought you to this place of power.

As the council meeting came to an end, the tension that had filled the chamber slowly dissipated. The men dispersed, their heads bowed in respect, a far cry from the defiance they had shown earlier. You remained seated, your hands resting on the table, the weight of the day’s events heavy on your shoulders.

Geto Suguru lingered behind, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the sea of uncertainty. He approached you quietly, his movements deliberate and calm, and as he drew closer, you found yourself exhaling a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“Thank you, my lord.” you said softly, turning to face him. The gratitude in your voice was unmistakable. “Your words... they meant a great deal to me, my lord. I don’t know what I would have done without your support.”

Suguru met your gaze, his expression warm yet composed. “There’s no need to thank me, my lady.” he replied, his tone sincere. “What I did was nothing more than what was necessary. You are Satoru’s sister, and he is like a brother to me. By extension, you are family to me as well. I would do anything for the both of you.”

His words, so simply spoken yet filled with such conviction, touched something deep within you. The bond between Suguru and your brother was well known, but hearing him extend that sense of loyalty and kinship to you was both comforting and humbling. You had not had a true family before. The nuns were kind to you and treated you well. But they were not family. They never will be. BUt maybe, just maybe — Satoru and Suguru could be what family means to you. 

“Family…” you echoed, a small smile forming on your lips. “It’s strange to think how quickly that word has come to mean something so new and important in my life.”

Suguru nodded, his eyes holding a gentle understanding. “It’s a powerful thing, family. It binds us in ways that go beyond blood. And now, you’re part of that bond, just as much as anyone else.”

You looked at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between you, the kind that only existed when words had already said enough.

A thought crossed your mind, and you spoke before you could second-guess yourself. “Suguru… would you like to share dinner with me before you leave?”

The invitation was simple, but it carried a significance that you hoped he would understand. In this world of shifting alliances and uncertain loyalties, there was something to be said for breaking bread together, for sharing a moment of peace in the midst of so much chaos.

Suguru’s smile widened just a fraction, a rare softness in his usually stoic demeanor. “I would like that very much, my lady.”

The two of you made your way to the dining hall, where a modest meal had been prepared. The setting was humble, far removed from the grand feasts that often accompanied council gatherings, but it was welcoming in its simplicity. The table was set with warm rice, grilled fish, and a selection of seasonal vegetables, along with a pot of fragrant tea.

You took your seats across from each other, and as the first course was served, the tension of the day seemed to melt away. The conversation flowed easily, a mix of light banter and deeper reflection. Suguru spoke of the campaigns he and Satoru had led, the victories and the losses, and you shared your experiences of life in the temple, the wisdom imparted to you by the nuns who had raised you.

As the evening wore on, you found yourself laughing at a story Suguru told about Satoru—how your brother, for all his prowess on the battlefield, had an unfortunate habit of getting lost in the most mundane of places. The image of the great warrior wandering aimlessly in a village square, confused and exasperated, was enough to bring tears of mirth to your eyes.

Suguru chuckled, his own laughter low and warm. “He’d kill me if he knew I told you that, my lady.” he said, shaking his head. “But it’s true. Satoru may be brilliant, but even he has his moments.”

“I’ll keep your secret, my lord.” you promised, still smiling. “It’s good to know he’s human, after all.”

Suguru’s gaze softened, and for a moment, he simply looked at you, his expression thoughtful. “You’re a lot like him, you know?” he said quietly. “Not just in the way you think, but in the way you carry yourself. Satoru may not say it often, but I know he’s proud of you. You’ve come into this world with such strength and grace. It’s no wonder he trusts you so completely.”

His words struck a chord within you, and you felt a swell of emotion that you hadn’t expected. To be compared to your brother, to hear that he was proud of you… it meant more than you could put into words.

“Thank you, my lord Suguru.” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “That means a great deal to me.”

He nodded, and the two of you fell into a companionable silence, content to simply enjoy each other’s presence. The meal continued, and as the last of the dishes were cleared away, you felt a sense of calm settle over you—a feeling that, despite the challenges you faced, you were not alone.

When the evening finally drew to a close, Suguru stood, bowing his head slightly in a gesture of respect. “I should be on my way, my lady.” he said, though there was no rush in his voice. “But I want you to know, if you ever need anything, you can always call on me.”

“I will.” you replied, rising to see him off. “And thank you again, my lord Suguru. For everything.”

He smiled, a small, genuine smile that seemed to light up his features. “Take care, my lady. And remember—family sticks together.”

With that, he turned and made his way out into the night, leaving you with a sense of warmth and a newfound understanding of the ties that bound you to those around you. And you think to yourself that you wanted it to last for the rest of your lives.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

YOU THINK SATORU HAD LEFT SUGURU FOR YOU TO HAVE A FRIEND. Many days and weeks pushed on, but Geto Suguru made it a point to stay by your side.You think that Satoru was smart with such a thing, keeping his trusted sister and friend together. So far, it had worked like a wonder, keeping all the men in line. 

And Suguru had been gallant, in trying to appear for each and every session of the council. He knew all too well that in a world dominated by men, your authority could easily be questioned in Satoru’s absence, and he wasn’t about to let that happen.

With Suguru’s steady presence, the council meetings continued to run smoothly, the men now fully aware that any disrespect towards you would not be tolerated. His mere presence was enough to quell any lingering doubts or challenges, and in time, the council began to accept your leadership with the same respect they afforded Satoru. 

But it wasn’t just in the council chambers where Suguru’s support made a difference. Beyond the formalities of the politicking in the clan hierarchy, Geto Suguru became your intellectual companion, someone with whom you could share ideas freely. He did not once mock you for your interest in many things, in fact — he encouraged it, with every meeting, with every conversation, he indulged your wants.

The two of you spent countless hours long after council was over, engrossed in discussions that ranged from the teachings of the Buddha to the intricacies of clan politics.

Suguru had a way of making even the most complex topics seem approachable, and you relished every moment spent with him, whether it was delving into the nuances of the emperor’s court, debating the merits of various poems, or considering new ideas for education reform. His intellect challenged you, and you found yourself growing in ways you hadn’t expected.

One evening, as the council hall emptied and the candles flickered in the growing darkness, you lingered in your seat, knowing that Suguru would join you soon. When he did, he settled beside you with a thoughtful expression, his eyes filled with the calm intensity that had become so familiar to you.

"You’ve been quiet today." he remarked, his voice low and steady. "Is something on your mind?"

You glanced at him, feeling the weight of your thoughts but unsure how to express them. "I’ve been thinking about the future," you admitted. "About what happens after the war… after everything settles."

Suguru nodded, understanding your unspoken concerns. "It’s natural to wonder. But the future is not something we can control, only prepare for. And you’ve done more than anyone to prepare our clan for what’s to come."

His words were reassuring, but they didn’t dispel the unease that had settled in your heart. "I just… sometimes I wonder if all these preparations, all these plans, will truly lead to peace. Or if we’re simply paving the way for another conflict."

Suguru considered your words for a moment before replying. "Peace is always fragile. It requires constant vigilance and wisdom. But I believe that with the right leadership—your brother, and perhaps even you—peace can be more than just a fleeting moment. It can be a legacy."

His faith in you was unwavering, and it touched you deeply. "I hope you’re right," you said softly, your gaze dropping to the parchment on the table before you. "But sometimes, I feel like I’m just grasping at straws, trying to make sense of a world that’s constantly changing."

Suguru reached out, gently lifting your chin so that your eyes met his. "You’re doing more than that. You’re shaping that world, guiding it towards something better. And you’re not alone in this. I’m here, and I’ll continue to be here, to support you in any way I can."

His words sent a warmth through you, one that made your heart ache in the most bittersweet way. "Thank you, Suguru," you whispered. "For everything."

A small smile curved his lips, and he withdrew his hand, though his presence remained as steady as ever. "There’s nothing to thank me for. This is what I want to do, for you and for Satoru."

As the night deepened, your conversations continued, flowing from one topic to another with ease. And when Suguru was away, he would always write to you, his letters filled with the same thoughtful insights and challenges. Each letter pushed your boundaries, urging you to think more deeply, to see the world through different lenses.

One day, as you read through one of his letters, you found a passage that made you pause:

"The world is vast, and our understanding of it is limited by the walls we build around ourselves. But if we can break down those walls, if we can push beyond what we think we know, then perhaps we can find something truly extraordinary. It is you whose intelligence I hold dearest and in truth, the person who can do things that would change the world.”

You traced the words with your fingers, feeling the weight of them settle in your chest. Suguru’s challenges were never just intellectual exercises; they were a call to action, a reminder that the world was still full of possibilities, and that you had the power to shape it.

And so, you wrote back, your reply filled with your own questions, your own thoughts, eager to see how he would respond. The correspondence between you became a lifeline, a connection that sustained you both through the trials and tribulations of the war.

Suguru had always been a thoughtful man, deeply reflective and wise beyond his years. His understanding of the world was shaped by both his experiences on the battlefield and his deep respect for philosophical teachings. You found his insights fascinating, often finding yourself lost in the depth of your conversations, which ranged from the practical to the profound.

During those moments, Suguru couldn’t help but notice the way your eyes lit up when you spoke of something you were passionate about, the gentle curve of your smile when you made a point that resonated with him. He had always thought you were beautiful—anyone could see that—but it was your tenacity, your intelligence, and your gentleness that truly captivated him. 

You were unlike anyone he had ever met. In you, he saw a rare combination of strength and compassion, a mind that was as sharp as any blade and a heart that was kind and forgiving.

The way you navigated the complexities of your new life, balancing the demands of leadership with the grace and wisdom you had learned at the temple, left him in awe.

Yet, despite the growing admiration he felt for you, Suguru kept those feelings buried deep within. To him, you were someone beyond reach, not because of any external barriers but because of his own sense of unworthiness.

He was a warrior, a man forged in battle and bloodshed, while you were a beacon of light, someone who had been touched by the serenity of the Buddha’s teachings. In his mind, the distance between who you were and who he was could never be bridged.

There were moments when he caught himself lost in thought, watching you as you spoke with that quiet authority, your words shaping the course of decisions that would impact the lives of many.

In those moments, a part of him longed to reach out, to tell you how much he admired you, how much he cared. But he never did. He couldn’t. To him, you deserved someone who was your equal, someone who could match your intellect and your spirit in ways he believed he could never hope to.

So, he stayed by your side, offering his loyalty and his companionship, content to be whatever you needed him to be. He ensured that no one dared to disrespect you, not just because of his loyalty to your brother, but because of the deep respect he had for you as an individual. He became a constant presence in your life, a steady rock in a world that often seemed to shift beneath your feet.

And while you might have seen him as a trusted ally and friend, for Suguru, every moment spent in your company was a reminder of what he could never allow himself to hope for.

You were, in his eyes, someone too precious, too good for a man like him. And so he kept his feelings hidden, choosing instead to honor you in the only way he knew how—by standing by your side, protecting you, and cherishing every conversation, every shared idea, every moment of quiet companionship.

In this way, Suguru made himself an indispensable part of your life, not realizing that his quiet devotion, his unwavering support, and the way he truly saw you for who you were had already made him far more worthy than he could ever imagine.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

YOU WERE GLAD TO KNOW THAT SATORU WAS COMING HOME. The day your brother, Satoru, returned from the front was filled with anticipation. The courtyard was alive with the excited murmurs of those gathered to welcome him home, the air thick with the scent of incense and the rustle of fine silks as the crowd shifted in expectation. Your heartbeat a little faster, not just from the prospect of seeing your brother again, but from the knowledge that he would be pleased with the work you had done in his absence.

As Satoru arrived, tall and imposing in his armor, the crowd parted to allow him passage. His white hair gleamed in the sunlight, and despite the long months of battle, his step was as sure and confident as ever. His gaze swept over the gathered people, but it was your face he sought first. When his eyes found yours, a smile broke across his face, and he quickened his pace to reach you.

Without hesitation, he pulled you into a warm embrace, his laughter rich with relief and pride. "Dearest sister!" he greeted, his voice filled with affection, "I’m home."

You returned his embrace, feeling a wave of emotion at having him back safely. “Welcome home, brother!” you replied, your voice steady, though your heart swelled with joy. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

He pulled back to look at you, his eyes searching yours. “Thank you,” he said earnestly, “for all your hard work on my behalf. I knew I could trust you to lead in my stead, and you’ve done more than I could have ever asked.”

The warmth in his words settled deep within you, a validation of all that you had done in his absence. “I did only what was necessary.” you replied, though the gratitude in your voice was clear.

Satoru turned then, his gaze shifting to Suguru, who stood a respectful distance away. The moment their eyes met, Satoru’s expression softened further, a familiar tenderness evident between the two men.

“Suguru!” Satoru called out, beckoning him forward.

Suguru approached, bowing his head in respect before speaking. “Welcome home, Satoru. I’m glad to see you returned safely.”

Satoru’s smile broadened, and he clasped Suguru’s shoulder in a gesture of deep friendship. “Thank you, Suguru, for being a confidant to my sister during this time. I can’t tell you how much it means to me to know she wasn’t alone.”

Suguru shook his head, his expression as composed as ever. “It is nothing but a great duty to fulfill for my vassal lord and friend,” he said, his tone formal and deferential.

But Satoru frowned at that, his grip on Suguru’s shoulder tightening slightly. “Don’t be so formal with me, Suguru,” he chided, though his tone was light. “You know better than that. You’re more than just a vassal. You’re my brother in arms, my friend. And you’ve done more for me and my sister than I could ever repay.”

Suguru’s gaze flickered with something unreadable, but he quickly schooled his expression. “I appreciate your words, Satoru.” he replied quietly. “But my duty calls me back to the front. I must return soon.”

Satoru’s frown deepened, and he shook his head, refusing to let go of Suguru’s shoulder. “No, I won’t hear of it!” he insisted. “You’ve been at the front longer than anyone. You need rest, and I won’t have you running off the moment you’ve set foot here. Stay as long as you can. That’s an order.”

Suguru hesitated, clearly torn between his sense of duty and his loyalty to Satoru. But seeing the determination in your brother’s eyes, he finally nodded. “If that is your order, Satoru, then I will stay.”

“Good.” Satoru said, his tone firm but kind. “That’s settled then. You’ll stay here with us, and you’ll take the time you need to rest and recover. The front will still be there when you’re ready to return.”

As Suguru accepted the command, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Having Suguru stay, even for a little longer, was something you hadn’t realized you’d wanted until now. He had become an important part of your life in your brother’s absence, and the thought of him leaving so soon after Satoru’s return had left you with an unexpected emptiness.

Satoru, ever perceptive, caught the fleeting look on your face and smiled knowingly. “You see, sister?” he said, turning to you. “I’ve managed to keep our dear Suguru here for a little longer. We all need him here, not just on the battlefield.”

You smiled, grateful for Satoru’s understanding, and nodded. “Yes, we do. Thank you, brother.”

With the matter settled, the three of you made your way into the inner chambers, where preparations had been made for a private celebration of Satoru’s return. The atmosphere was light, filled with laughter and the shared relief of being together once more. As you sat together, the bonds of family and friendship felt stronger than ever, and for that moment, the weight of the world outside seemed to fade away.

As the weeks passed, you found yourself spending more and more time with Suguru. The bond between you deepened, the trust and respect that had grown in your brother's absence now blossoming into something more complex, something that you couldn’t quite name but felt deeply. Suguru was older, wiser, and had seen so much more of the world than you had, but there was a connection between you that transcended those differences. Slowly but surely, you realized that you were becoming enthralled by your feelings for him.

Despite the age difference, despite his steadfast focus on his career and his role as your brother’s most trusted general, you couldn’t help the way your heart quickened when you were near him. Suguru, ever the composed and duty-bound man, never gave any indication that he was aware of your feelings. He was kind, respectful, and treated you as an equal in your discussions, but there was always a certain distance, a formality that he maintained, even in the quiet moments you shared.

One evening, after the council had ended and the palace had settled into the calm of the night, you found yourself wandering through the lily gardens with Suguru. The moon was full, casting a soft, silvery light over the still waters of the pond and the delicate white lilies that floated on its surface.

The air was cool, a gentle breeze stirring the leaves of the nearby trees. It was a serene, almost otherworldly setting, perfect for the conversations you often found yourselves having under the cover of darkness.

As you walked side by side, your footsteps soft on the stone path, you spoke of the future. Of what might come after the war, when the battles were over, and the land was finally at peace. You talked of the things you wanted to do—small, simple things like traveling to the nearby villages, visiting the temples you had only heard of in stories, and seeing the world beyond the palace walls.

Suguru listened, his expression thoughtful as always, but there was a trace of something in his eyes that made your heart ache—a longing that mirrored your own, though he would never voice it.

But tonight, there was something more pressing on your mind, something that had been weighing on you ever since your brother had returned from the front. After a pause in your conversation, you gathered your courage and spoke, your voice soft yet firm. “Suguru… Satoru has begun to find a husband for me.”

Suguru stopped walking, turning to face you. His expression didn’t change, but you saw the subtle tension in his posture, the way his hands clenched slightly at his sides. “It’s what’s best, my lady.” he replied after a moment, his tone carefully neutral. “A marriage to form alliances would strengthen your brother’s position and secure your future.”

You shook your head, the words catching in your throat. “I don’t see it that way,” you admitted, your voice trembling with the emotions you could no longer contain. “Because… I’ve fallen in love with you, Suguru.”

For a moment, there was silence. The world around you seemed to still, the only sound the gentle rustling of the lilies in the breeze. Suguru’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—surprise, perhaps, or maybe something deeper, something he had kept hidden for a long time.

“You shouldn’t love me.” he finally said, his voice low, almost pained. “It’s unequal. I would taint your name, your reputation. You’re much younger than me, and you deserve someone who can offer you the future you deserve. I can’t… I’m not looking to marry, not now. I have my duties, my career—”

“I don’t care about any of that.” you interrupted, your voice firmer now, driven by the strength of your feelings. “I don’t care about reputation or duty. I only care about you, about what we could have together. I want you to be with me, Suguru. Not as my brother’s general, but as the man I love.”

Suguru looked at you then, really looked at you, as if seeing you for the first time. There was a deep conflict in his eyes, a battle between his sense of duty and the emotions he had tried so hard to suppress. He took a step closer, and for a moment, you thought he might reach out to you, might take your hand or pull you into his arms. But he stopped himself, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

“I’m not worthy of you, my lady.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m just a soldier, a man who has done terrible things in the name of duty. You deserve someone who can give you the life you’ve dreamed of, someone who can stand beside you in the light, not someone who is forever tainted by the darkness of war.”

Your heart ached at his words, at the pain you could hear beneath them. But you refused to accept them. “I don’t want someone else.” you said, taking a step closer to him, closing the distance between you. “I want you, Suguru. I don’t care about the past or what you think you deserve. I know who you are, and I love you for it. Please… don’t push me away.”

Suguru’s resolve seemed to falter then, his purple eyes closing as if trying to block out the reality of your words. He was silent for a long moment, the only sound the distant chirping of crickets and the soft rustle of the wind in the trees. When he finally spoke, his voice was raw with emotion. “I don’t want to hurt you, my lady.” he said, opening his eyes to meet yours. “But I’m afraid I already have.”

You shook your head, tears gathering in your eyes. “You haven’t, my lord.” you insisted. “But you will if you walk away from me now.”

Suguru looked at you, his expression filled with a sorrow that you hadn’t seen before. He took a deep breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer, resigned. “If I stay, if I allow myself to feel this way about you, it won’t be easy. There will be challenges, people who will try to tear us apart. Your brother might not even approve…”

“I don’t care, my lord….Suguru.” you said, stepping even closer, so that you were only a breath away from him. “I’ll face whatever comes if it means being with you.”

Suguru looked at you for a long moment, his purple eyes searching for yours, as if trying to find the strength to say what he needed to say. Finally, he reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. His touch was hesitant, as if he was afraid to break you, but you leaned into it, closing your eyes as you felt the warmth of his skin against yours.

“I wish I could be the man you deserve.” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet despair. “But if you’re willing to take this risk, then I won’t let you face it alone.”

You opened your eyes, looking up at him with a mix of relief and determination. “I am willing, Suguru.” you said softly, your heart full of the love you had for him. “As long as you’re by my side.”

Suguru nodded, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. “Then I’ll stay, for you.” he said, his voice firm with resolve. “And I’ll do everything I can to protect you, to make this work… even if it means defying everything I thought I knew.”

With those words, you knew that the bond between you had changed, deepened in ways that neither of you could have anticipated. The future was uncertain, the challenges ahead daunting, but for now, in the quiet of the lily garden under the moonlit sky, you had each other. And that, you knew, was more than enough.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

THE MORE YOU WERE TOGETHER, THE MORE YOU FELL FOR HIM. And along with the flow of time, the boundaries between you blurred until they disappeared entirely. What began as stolen moments in the lily gardens turned into lingering touches, soft words whispered in the dark, and eventually, the first tentative kiss. That kiss led to another, and then another, until you both could no longer deny the passion that had ignited between you.

Geto Suguru, ever the restrained and disciplined man, tried to keep his distance, to maintain the boundaries that he believed were necessary. But you could see the way he struggled, the way his resolve weakened whenever you were near. And you, in turn, found yourself growing more insatiable for him, drawn to his quiet strength, his intellect, and the gentleness that he showed only to you.

It wasn’t long before your relationship became intimate. The nights you spent together were filled with whispered confessions, tender caresses, and the kind of closeness that left you breathless, yearning for more. Each touch, each shared moment, only deepened the bond between you, until it became something undeniable, something that you couldn’t hide, even if you tried.

Suguru’s movements were rhythmic and deliberate, each thrust a testament to the intensity of his feelings. Your body responded instinctively, shivering under the persistent wave of pleasure that seemed to emanate from every part of him. The connection between you both was palpable, a perfect union of touch and desire that left you breathless and yearning.

As he pressed closer, the heat between you became almost unbearable. You could feel every inch of him, his length moving with a purposeful glide that seemed to match the cadence of your own heartbeats. His focus was unwavering, his gaze locked onto your expressions of bliss, as if he were memorizing each fleeting moment of your shared ecstasy.

Suguru’s lips were gentle yet insistent, trailing a path of fiery kisses along your skin. He started at your jawline, moving down to your neck, where his kisses became more fervent, brushing against the sensitive spots that made you moan uncontrollably. His touch was a mix of tenderness and passion, each kiss a silent declaration of his love.

The way his lips traveled over your shoulder blades and collarbone, down to your breasts, was both reverent and adoring. He seemed to savor every inch of you, each kiss a testament to his longing and his desire to make you feel cherished and adored. His breathing grew ragged, his desire for you as evident as the ardent affection in his kisses.

Suguru’s love was consuming, a powerful force that seemed to envelope you both in a cocoon of heat and intimacy. His movements were a dance of devotion, each motion and kiss an expression of his deep-seated love. He wanted to give you everything, to love you with a passion that knew no bounds, until either of you could bear the intensity any longer.

Suguru’s senses were overwhelmed by the intense heat enveloping him. Each time he pulled back, he felt the burning warmth of your inner flesh clinging to him, a tantalizing reminder of the connection you shared. The contrast between the cool air and the searing heat of your body created a heightened sense of urgency, making every moment even more electric.

He withdrew momentarily, the emptiness only intensifying his need to be reunited with you. His breath came in ragged bursts, a mixture of frustration and desire fueling his movements. When he finally pressed back into you, it was with a force that spoke of his longing and the sheer intensity of his passion.

Suguru’s hands gripped your hips firmly, guiding and angling them to better meet his thrusts. His movements were decisive and powerful, each push and pull a testament to his deep-seated desire. The rhythm he established was relentless, his member driving into you with a raw, unrestrained energy. Every thrust was accompanied by a shudder of pleasure, both from him and you, as the heat between you built to a fervent crescendo.

His focus was entirely on you, the way your body responded to him, the way you felt around him. The sound of your moans and the look of sheer pleasure on your face drove him to new heights, his need to be with you, to feel this connection, only growing stronger with each passing second.

But as much as you tried to keep your relationship a secret from your brother, it wasn’t long before the truth could no longer be hidden. The realization came with a sudden, undeniable clarity: you were pregnant. 

The days following that intense night were filled with a mix of excitement and anticipation. As you navigated through your routine, you began to notice subtle changes in your body. What started as a vague sense of nausea and fatigue soon became more pronounced, prompting you to a conclusion.

The morning understood what was going on, a whirlwind of emotions took over you. You stared at yourself and then your belly, your heart pounding in your chest. Fear and excitement warred within you as you grappled with the reality of your situation.

You were carrying Suguru’s child, a life born from the love that you shared, but also a secret that could change everything. You knew that your brother, Satoru, would not take the news lightly. He had always been protective of you, and this… this would be seen as a betrayal.

The day your brother discovered the truth was etched into your memory with vivid, painful clarity. You had dreaded this moment, knowing that the inevitable confrontation would come, but nothing could have fully prepared you for the storm that followed.

The atmosphere was thick with tension as you stood in the living room, your heart racing. Satoru stormed in, his eyes blazing with a mix of fury and hurt that made your stomach churn. His usually calm demeanor was shattered, replaced by an intensity that you had never seen before. He had sensed something was wrong for weeks, and the truth had hit him like a sledgehammer.

“Who is he?” Satoru’s voice was a harsh whisper, laced with a barely contained rage. His eyes locked onto you, his gaze piercing through you as if trying to unravel the truth hidden within your silence.

"Brother, please...."

“Who’s the father?” His demand echoed through the room, each word sharp and accusatory, slicing through the fragile veneer of your composure.

The weight of his anger was suffocating. You stood there, feeling small and vulnerable, your hands trembling at your sides. The emotional turmoil inside you was overwhelming, a tangled mess of guilt, fear, and sorrow. You wanted to explain, to find the right words to make him understand, but the sheer intensity of the moment left you paralyzed.

Suguru, who had been silently supporting you, stepped forward, his own face a mask of regret and determination. He had been waiting for this confrontation, knowing that it was his responsibility to face the consequences of their actions. With a deep breath, he took the weight of the situation onto his shoulders. 

“Satoru,” he began, his voice steady but tinged with a sorrowful undertone, “I’m the father.”

The revelation hung in the air, heavy and oppressive. Satoru’s expression shifted from anger to disbelief, and then to a deeper pain that seemed to cut through his very core. The anger that had once burned so fiercely now gave way to a profound sense of betrayal and heartbreak. His eyes, usually so full of warmth and understanding, were now clouded with tears that he fought to hold back.

Suguru’s admission was met with a silence that was almost unbearable. The tension in the room was palpable, each of you waiting for the other to break the silence. You could see the struggle in Satoru’s face as he tried to process the reality of the situation, the hurt and confusion evident in every line of his expression.

“I never thought...” Satoru’s voice faltered, his anger giving way to a raw, aching sadness. He looked between you and Suguru, his emotions a turbulent sea of conflicting feelings. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why keep this from me?”

Suguru’s gaze was steady, but his heart was breaking as he met Satoru’s eyes. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Satoru.” he said softly. “But I know that’s no excuse. I’m sorry.”

“You do not have to worry.” Suguru said, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. He met Satoru’s gaze head-on, not flinching even as the anger in your brother’s eyes intensified. “It was not planned….But I take full responsibility, Satoru. Please.”

Satoru’s reaction was immediate and explosive. “You’re supposed to be my most trusted general, my friend, and you… you’ve done this? With my sister? And you didn’t marry her?”

Suguru’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t back down. “I never intended to disrespect you or your family. I care for her deeply, and I will do what is right.”

The words only seemed to fuel Satoru’s rage. “You should have done what was right from the start! How could you let this happen, Suguru? How could you—”

“I didn’t need to marry him.” you interrupted, your voice shaking as you tried to step between them, to defuse the situation before it spiraled out of control. “I love him, Satoru. We love each other, and I don’t need a marriage to prove that.”

But your words only seemed to make things worse. Satoru turned to you, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. “You don’t understand what this means, how it looks. If you’re with child and not married, it could ruin everything. Our alliances, our reputation—everything we’ve fought for…..”

Suguru placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding you even as the storm of emotions swirled around you. “I will marry her, Satoru.” he said firmly, his voice calm but resolute. “You don’t have to worry about shame. We will marry and no one will know.”

Satoru stared at Suguru for a long moment, his chest rising and falling with the force of his emotions. It was clear that he was torn, caught between his duty to his family and his loyalty to Suguru. Finally, he let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“I have no other choice about this.” he said, his voice heavy with resignation. “If you’re going to marry her, then you need to do it soon. We’ll make the arrangements, and you’ll stand before everyone and make this right.”

Suguru nodded, his grip on your shoulder tightening slightly as if to reassure you. “I will. You have my word.”

You looked up at Suguru, your heart full of a mixture of love, relief, and anxiety for what lay ahead. This wasn’t how you had imagined things would unfold, but you knew that as long as you had him by your side, you could face whatever challenges came your way. And so, with a heavy but hopeful heart, you took a deep breath and prepared to face the future together.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

YOU NEVER EXPECTED ALL OF THIS, BUT LIFE IS STRANGE. And perhaps you were now more resigned to it than ever before. The day of your wedding to Suguru was both solemn and beautiful, a ceremony that cemented not only your love but also your shared commitment to the future.

Despite the circumstances that led to it, the vows you exchanged were heartfelt, and as you stood beside him, you felt a deep sense of belonging, knowing that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

Suguru remained by your side through the remainder of your pregnancy, refusing to leave even as the war called to him. He was there for every moment, every kick, and every anxious night as you awaited the arrival of your children. When the day finally came, and you bore twin daughters, his joy was immeasurable. He held you close, kissed your forehead, and whispered his gratitude for the family you had given him.

The day Suguru had to return to the battlefield was a poignant reminder of the harsh realities that overshadowed your time together. As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the room, the reality of his departure loomed heavily over both of you. The weight of impending separation was unbearable, each moment stretching painfully as the hour of his departure drew nearer.

You found yourself clinging to him, your grip firm yet trembling, as tears streamed down your cheeks. Every part of you ached with the fear and sadness of watching him leave for another dangerous mission. His presence had become your sanctuary, and the thought of him stepping back into the chaos of war was almost too much to bear. Your sobs were muffled against his chest, the fabric of his uniform a stark reminder of the danger he faced.

Suguru’s hands were gentle as he reached up to wipe away your tears. His touch was tender, yet firm, as if he were trying to transfer some of his strength to you. His own eyes were filled with a sorrowful resolve, the weight of the duty he was about to undertake clear in every line of his face. Despite his bravery and determination, it was evident that leaving you behind was a painful sacrifice.

As he held you, his gaze shifted to the cot where your daughters, Mimiko and Nanako, slept peacefully. Their innocent faces were serene, their small bodies rising and falling with the rhythm of sleep. Suguru’s heart ached at the sight of them, his love for them and the desire to protect them a palpable force. His eyes lingered on them, a silent vow passing between him and their slumbering forms—a promise to return safely, to be there for them and you.

"I don’t want to leave you." he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he held you close, feeling the warmth of your daughters swaddled in his arms. “All three of you.”

"I know that." you whispered back, your voice breaking. "But you must. For Satoru, for our peace… But promise me, Suguru, that you'll take care of my brother. Bring him back to us. And…And come back to us too. Please."

"I promise, my love." he vowed, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him. "I will protect him with my life, just as I will protect our family. I will come back to you, I swear."

The parting was an agonizing ordeal, each moment stretching into an eternity as you watched Suguru ride away. With your daughters, Mimiko and Nanako, nestled in your arms, you felt the weight of the world press heavily upon your heart. The sight of him disappearing into the distance, framed by the setting sun, was a poignant reminder of the uncertainty that lay ahead. As the last glimpse of him vanished, you could only hold your children tighter, whispering prayers for his safety and for a swift end to the unrelenting war.

Days turned into months, and months into years, each passing moment a relentless reminder of the ongoing conflict. The once-familiar rhythm of life had been disrupted, replaced by an enduring wait for peace. The world outside was fraught with turmoil, but within the sanctuary of the temple where your journey with Suguru had begun, you found a semblance of tranquility.

Returning to the temple was a return to roots, a place of peace amidst the chaos of the world. It was where you had first found solace and a sense of purpose alongside Suguru, and now it became a refuge for you and your daughters. The temple's serene environment provided a safe haven where you could nurture them, shielding them from the harsh realities of the outside world. 

Every corner of the temple held echoes of the past—memories of quiet moments shared with Suguru, of dreams and plans woven together in the tranquil surroundings. It was a place that had once symbolized new beginnings, and now it served as a testament to endurance and hope.

As you raised your daughters in this sanctuary, you immersed yourself in the rhythms of temple life, finding comfort in its routines and in the community that embraced you. You taught them the values and lessons that had been so important to you and Suguru, hoping to instill in them the same strength and resilience that had guided you through these challenging years.

The temple, with its tranquil gardens and reverent halls, became a living monument to your waiting, a symbol of the enduring love that bound you to Suguru. Every day was a step closer to the dream of seeing the land united and your husband safely returned to you. Until that day came, you held onto the hope that peace would prevail and that your family would be whole once more.

In the stillness of the temple, surrounded by the quiet hum of prayer and the gentle presence of your daughters, you found a sense of purpose and patience. Your love for Suguru remained a guiding light, illuminating the path through the darkness of uncertainty and keeping the promise of reunion alive in your heart.

Years passed, and news of the Gojo clan's victory spread across the land and peace was finally achieved. The land was finally unified, and the long years of war had come to an end. You clung to the hope that with this victory, Your Suguru would return to you, that the promise he made would finally be fulfilled.

And then, one day, as you stood at the steps of the temple, you saw him. Geto Suguru, looking weary yet strong, with the weight of years and battle etched into his features. He stood there, gazing at you with eyes full of longing and love, and you felt your heart leap in your chest.

Without hesitation, you ran to him, your daughters' voices calling after you, but you couldn’t stop. The world seemed to blur around you as you crossed the distance between you and the man you had been waiting for all these years. When you finally reached him, you threw yourself into his arms, holding him as tightly as you could, as if to make up for all the time you had spent apart.

"Welcome home, my love." you whispered, your voice thick with tears, your face buried in his chest. The scent of him, the feel of his arms around you, it was all so familiar, so comforting, that it felt like a dream.

Suguru held you close, his embrace fierce and full of the love he had carried with him through every battle, every hardship. "I’m home, my dear." he murmured into your hair, his voice choking with emotion. "I’m finally home."

Your daughters, now old enough to understand the significance of the moment, stood a little ways off, watching with wide eyes as their father returned to them. You turned to them, beckoning them forward, and they ran to join the embrace, their laughter and tears mingling with your own.

[tresmoonies]

Hey, I'm (we're) Steven (Marc, and Jake), otherwise known as... Moon Knight(s)!

I work at the National Art Gallery in London, UK. I'm a gift shop employee, but also a huge, huge nerd enthusiast when it comes to Ancient Egypt. Myths, histories, relics, you name it.

I'm a mess, yeah, but I'm here to enjoy myself. I hope you do too.

Cheers!

--

Hi 👋 Mun here, just thought it might be nice to add in an intro and some guidelines.

I'm a burnt out and chronically sleep-deprived uni student; this means I may post something that doesn't make sense/my English gets fucked up/I might not understand all your asks if you use too much jargon (that's also because I don't know too many. I apologize in advance.).

NSFW is fine, flirting is fine, I'm open to rp starters and other whatnot. Approach me, ask me questions, send me fun little drabbles.

I do write long/short fics and oneshots, but I've never posted them before. If y'all want some I could give it a try (but I'm sure I'll be horrible at it, lmao).

Now, Jake's character does require me to use Spanish here and there. My knowledge of said language is terribly limited, so I'll be dabbling in translators from time to time. I'm fluent in Chinese, English, and Korean, so if needed I can whip 'em out.

That's it for now! Don't hesitate to reach out, I hope you have as much fun here as I do :)

[artanisansa]

TO SANSA/JON FANDOM!

Hey everyone! I’m not sure how many of you remember this user, but lostlittlesatellites or batterydeaddotdot was a well-known Jonsa meta-writer in our fandom. Sadly, they deactivated, and as far as I know, we don’t really know why. A big chunk of their amazing work seems to have been lost, which was so sad for so many of us.

But here’s the good news: I recently discovered that some of their metas were saved on the "Way Back Machine" site! So, I put together a list of some of their pieces to share with all of you. My aim is to help preserve their contributions, spread the love within our fandom, and celebrate the incredible mind that has helped to shaped our fandom.

Quick disclaimer: I haven’t read every single meta, so I don’t necessarily agree with everything that’s written. My main goal is just to share this with you all. And I skiped GOT-related metas for this list. Enjoy diving into lostlittlesatellites/batterydeaddotdot’s work!

Some of their writings is already saved through some of those accounts: @/jonsameta & @/bookjonsa & @/esther-dot. Y’all can check! Here are the others:

BOOKS:

Sansa Stark: The Princess in the Tower

RLJ & Jonsa Payoff

Dragons, Snow and Armchairs

Can there be ONE ideal ruler?

Trojan War Literature influence on GRRM

The Red Comet: A Closer Look

Grey Dawn: Hour of the Wolf + Nightingale

To go forward you must look back: Dany’s tragic fall

Jon Snow as an Anti Hero

Val: A Subversion of BATB in Jon’s arc? + “something off about Val”

The Resurrection Problem

The Cost of Weaponizing Dragons For a Cause: Doran + Jon

There is Power in Living Wood: Bran’s role in the War

Valar Morghulis: Could Arya kill Dany?: Part 1 & Part 2

Stark Girls’ connections: To go forward you must go back

Fathers and Daughters

Sansa Stark: A Winter Rose?

Sansa Stark: A Girl in Glass

Sansa’s Fairytale and Myth allusions

The Blindspot of FPTP thread: Oversexualisation and overlooking age

Ask: Does “begging for a stranger’s kiss” foreshadow Sansa/Hound?

Deconstruction of BATB figures: He’s even uglier than the Hound

The Unkiss: The War Spilling Inside

Sansa’s repression of Jeyne

Alysanne: Paralleling Sansa + Contrasting Dany foreshadowing

A Song to Dodge A Kiss With a Blade (Part 1): Sansa/Hound and Jon/Ygritte ACOK comparisons

The Innocuous Nature of Jon/Sansa Foreshadowing

Snow: Lover’s Kisses

A Son by Marriage

1. Like a Lover; 2. Like a Kiss; 3. Kissed by Fire; 4. Burning Light and Dark Woods; 5. Intruders in Winterfell; 6. The Heart of Winterfell; 7. Fire: Hearth vs. Weapons

Dance of Dragons + Pact of Ice and Fire

Jonquils and Blue Roses

Horses and Flowers

Some Willowy Creature Who Sits Up in a Tower

A Union of the Old Gods and the New: Importance of understanding the Seven

Ask: Thoughts on Bridge4’s Video “There must always be a Stark in Winterfell”

Theories:

Bran as the Valonqar

History is a Wheel: Jon’s Rebellion

Jon’s Resurrection Repercussions

Dead Man with the Head of a Wolf: A Re-look

The Heart Tree of Winterfell: Tolkien influence

Complicating the Fantasy Battle: War Factions in the War for Dawn

Trail of Scrolls

Lady and the Ghost: Part 1; Part 2; Part 3

Shadowbinders, Death and Sacrifice

Sansa, the Vale and Mountain Clans: Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4

Seasons of My Love

Jon’s Survival: Beginning of Subverting Westerosi Classism

Child of Flame and Shadow: Not a living child but a shadow child?

Shadowbinders, Death and Sacrifice: Dany with Mirri and Melisandre

A Potential Wildcard Advisor: Bronze Yohn Royce and the Importance of the Vale

Why Ghost is unlikely to like Dany: Melisandre and Val in ADWD

Others:

Jonsa: Tolkien influences

Jonsa: A Good Endgame

Jonsa is happening because it's how GRRM's mind works

Jonsa’s Hints: On how antis ignore Jonsa foreshadowing

POV’S: Heros or not

House of the Undying and Quaithe for Dany & Mythology

Dany criticism 

Other links: about asoiaf; asoiaf metas; asoiaf theories + part 2

Anyone who has some of their writing saved can feel free to share! I would be thankful.

[strawberry-bubblef]

Hiya! If you're still doing requests can you please do one of Malleus having a dino s/o? Idk why, i just thought it was cute They could be considered reptilian lovers 🥲

Malleus with dino!reader

Malleus Draconia had always been drawn to the strange and the unique. So, when he met you,a creature both ancient and powerful in your own right,he was fascinated beyond words. You weren’t just any student at Night Raven College,you were something different, something primal. A dinosaur, a relic of an age long past, yet standing before him in the present, carrying the weight of history in your every step.

At first, others found it amusing. A dragon and a dinosaur,two beings bound by their reptilian nature walking side by side like creatures from a forgotten myth. But to Malleus, it was more than mere coincidence. It was fate.

He admired you from the start. Your strength, your resilience, the way you carried yourself with the quiet dignity of a species long gone yet never truly forgotten. He saw in you something familiar,an echo of his own isolation, his own longing for connection. While others feared his presence, you remained unfazed, as if understanding the weight of his existence in a way no one else could.

“You are a marvel,” he once told you, watching as the moonlight illuminated the rough texture of your skin. “A living remnant of an era lost to time. Do you ever wonder what it would be like, to walk among those who came before you?”

You blinked at him, your gaze thoughtful. “Sometimes. But I think I belong here, now. With you.”

Malleus smiled at that, a rare and genuine expression of happiness. From then on, your bond only deepened.

Malleus was ever the gentleman, treating you with the same regal care he gave to all things he cherished. When you walked together, he matched your stride, his presence a steady shadow beside you. He never balked at your claws or the sharp edges of your form; instead, he traced them with reverence, as though committing every ridge and scale to memory.

You weren’t soft, not in the way humans were. But Malleus never sought softness in you,he sought the warmth of your companionship, the quiet strength of your presence. He was the prince of a mighty lineage, a dragon feared and revered, yet with you, he could simply be Malleus.

When others gawked, he simply raised an unimpressed brow. When someone dared to mock, they found themselves at the mercy of his sharp gaze, their words dying in their throat before they could utter another insult. It wasn’t that Malleus needed to defend you,you were more than capable of that yourself but he did it anyway, because to him, you were precious.

There were moments of quiet intimacy, ones where words were unnecessary. Malleus would rest his hand against your own, feeling the pulse of life beneath your skin. He would brush his fingers over the curve of your nose his touch feather-light, as if honoring the history etched into your being.

And then there were the playful moments, the ones where he let himself indulge in the joy of simply being with you. He found great amusement in watching you react to new things,especially the modern quirks of the world you now lived in. The way your eyes lit up at glowing trinkets, the way you tilted your head in confusion at the oddities of technology,it delighted him more than he cared to admit.

One night,he reached for your hand, clasping it gently in his own. His grip was cool, steady, a reminder that though time may move ever forward, some things remained unchanging.

“You are with me,” he murmured. “And I am with you.”

And in that moment, with the night as your witness and the stars burning like ancient memories above you, you knew that no matter how much time passed, you would never truly be alone again.

English is not my first language !