#together we can grow stronger. threads

[daeificatio]

post-traumatic tea time

Closed starter for @delicatevalentine

He had absolutely no idea of what had happened. 

In one moment he was inside that void, being asked questions by a disembodied voice surrounded by his teammates- but now he was back in his room, at the monastery. No signs of injuries in his body, not even soreness from his hand that he was very much sure had been broken. All of his equipment that had been lost to sea was there, neatly organized. His fishes were doing well and were fed. It was as if he had some wild, wild dream and only managed to wake up from it now. 

Even Sothis seemed puzzled by the whole ordeal, unable to make sense of the situation- just as lost as Byleth himself.

But it was clear that he wasn’t the only one, judging by how others were doing once he stepped out of his room to start his daily routine. Particularly- to seek his students. The students that had been with him during that…shared dream of sorts.

Still cobalt eyes quickly spotted one he recognized, however he didn’t know how to approach her about it. ‘Hey I had a strange dream and you were in it, mind to elaborate?’ was a more effective way to creep people out than to bond with them- so, Byleth chose a more indirect yet possibly more effective way. Slipping a note to the Golden Deer retainer, he formally invited her for a tea party. Sure, in a mercenary environment that tea party would probably be a tavern instead and in Byleth’s personal standards it would be a fishing trip, but he figured it would at least please the girl and keep her at ease.

The ex-mercenary felt slightly awkward, sitting inside the delicate, richly decorated gazebo framed in roses and other types of flowers. His black coat and overall rough corners weren’t an ideal match for the whole aesthetic, but it would do. “Hi, Hilda.” 

On the table, two cups of rose petal blend and a small plate with all sorts of pastries and sweets. The tea had been a wild guess- to Byleth tea was just grass water but he had noticed how many students had rather elaborate preferences for them, so he went with what he thought would be within Hilda’s liking. (read: Hilda’s hair is pink, roses are also pink. So to Byleth’s mind it made sense she’d like the pink tea)

“I had a weird dream in which we were on another continent.” He could feel Sothis facepalming in his mind. Horrendous start. “...things happened in it.” For whatever reason, he didn’t feel like elaborating on it. Instead, he fiddled with his own glove.

“Are you doing okay? As your teacher…” An awkward pause as he tried to choose his words. “...you can confide in me for stuff that bothers you, kinda. I guess.” His stance and face was the same as always- still, calm, blank. But somehow, he had the aura of a wet dog trying his best in not being awkward at human interaction. The girl in his mind only let out a fond chuckle.

[abnomi]

IDK if i was the first to notice this or not but i havent seen anyone talk about this before!! i love going crazy over colors and now is my Chance.

something subtle but notable about Ralph's design is how he has a teal undershirt. (debatably turquoise or green or something, but it is teal in this post..sorry green/turquoise truthers...)

i wondered for a bit why exactly that was a feature of his design, as it stood out to me for some reason; its a contrasting color to red, his main color, of course, so i brushed it off as an accent.

upon further inspection, however, what does that mean with the knowledge we have of him wanting to be good? or about who he shares a connection with?

green/blue is generally known to symbolize goodness, as its the opposing color to red, a color that can represent evil or danger depending on its context.

as you can see here, this crude caricature of Ralph is lacking that extra pop of color; the nicelanders dont see the good inside of him, only seeing the external deep red hues :-(

it doesnt end there, though. which character in this film is represented by a certain teal color?

someone Ralph carries close to his heart, someone who helped define his personhood and who he is internally. that spunky racer girl who relied on him just as he relied on her. not just a glitch, but Vanellope.

Vanellope represents someone who is able to accept herself and grow stronger because of it, and in exploring her own identity, Ralph took a journey of his own alongside her. she's a figure of love, passion, and resistance. taking this into account, her main color symbolizes the same.

we can also see bits of red in Vanellope's design!

interestingly, the main spots we see it in are her licorice hair tie, the stitches and strings of her hoodie, and the bottom of her shoes.

now i could be overanalyzing this a bit, but each of these features have something in common: they're all used for support. the tie supports her hair, the threads keep her hoodie together, and her shoes let her run around and be a kid safely. yeah, she made all of those by herself on her own terms, but Ralph supports her too, right? shes the heart and hes the practicality.

not to mention the MEDALS OHHH the medals. beware ⚠️🚨 im going to overanalyze this like crazy ok let me be neurodivergent about this

all three of these medals have differences that could mean a variety of different things. I'll break each one down individually:

Vanellope's gift

handmade with love, the medal itself is teal (if we ignore the brown underside). as stated before, teal implies love and resistance. this is also quite obvious due to the gift being heart-shaped.

relating to that last point, notice how he wears it close to his chest? it's practically a second heart to him! what else is close to his chest? TEAL UNDERSHIRT. wow!!! so that love was there with him the whole time!

the ribbon itself is pink, not blue or red like traditional medals. this is less significant, i will admit, but i find it nice how its so simple yet defies what a "real" medal is meant to look like, ESPECIALLY in relation to Ralph's expectations as to what a medal should be.

Hero's medal

It's a reflective gold, something that hypnotized Ralph immediately upon being greeted with it (kind of like a certain racer heeheheehoo)... this is all pretty obvious; gold is for winners, and supposedly, only heros can be winners.

something a little less obvious, though, is the blue of his ribbon. so, why is it blue, specifically? now, this isn't teal, this is more of a royal blue. something similar to Felix's palette... a hero. Ralph treats goodness as something attainable, love as transactional. it's not real, it's not genuine. he wears this symbol of heroism without truly EARNING it.

The cake

notice how the ribbon around his neck is red in this imaginary scene? the medal designed for Felix and his wins? his contrasting color? on Ralph, it's almost indistinguishable from his shirt because he isn't supposed to wear it. it wasn't created with him in mind.

ok ok just one more thing. ☝️ Turbo and Ralph parallel with their color schemes.

red as a color carries a dual meaning. on one hand, it can mean passion, love, adrenaline and strength. on the other hand, it could represent evil, malicious intentions, a warning, something dangerous. both Ralph and Turbo share red in their palettes; something to note, Turbo lacks any cool colors.

Ralph is seen as evil when he is truly anything but evil. the red makes him a bigger target considering his position, but this red relates to him internally on a more positive level. its his strength, what keeps his softer core safe. above his teal undershirt.

Turbo is seen as this intense fireball who's just passionate about racing, a little tough guy who just wants to have fun. we all know that this isn't the case. he is dangerous, he is a cautionary tale, a warning and simultaneously a threat.

considering how much as the two parallel each other, its no surprise that they share a color, one that can be interpreted in so many ways. one that ultimately means the reverse for their roles.

[writingforstraykids]

Always back to you - Chp.3🖤

Pairing: Minho x m!Reader (mention of OT8)

Word Count: 4332

Summary: Minho and you slowly find your way back together once he's released from the hospital. Minjun's birthday party brings you both closer than ever before ...

Warnings/Tags: fluff, single dad!min, angst, domestic shit

A/N: Thank you for all the love for the first part especially🤭 I'll have a very busy day tomorrow, so you'll get the next part today already instead🤭🖤

PART TWO | PART FOUR

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

You immediately take up the responsibility of caring for Minjun, ensuring that Minho has no worries as he recovers. You bring Minjun to your home and transform it into a safe haven for the little boy who is confused and missing his dad.

You set up a schedule that balances fun activities and quiet time, keeping Minjun engaged and content. Mornings are spent in the garden, where you teach him how to plant seeds and water flowers, explaining the nature of growth and the care plants need to thrive—a subtle lesson you hope he translates into understanding his father’s situation.

Minjun enthusiastically takes to gardening, his curious nature soaking up every detail you offer. He frequently asks questions, his large eyes wide with wonder as he watches little bugs crawling around and you tell him more about them. “Does Daddy need water and sun to get better, too?” he asks one day, his innocence tugging at your heartstrings.

You chuckle softly, ruffling his hair. “Something like that, buddy. Your dad needs rest and a little bit of sunshine to regain his strength.”

During these days, Minjun often speaks of his father, his young mind trying to wrap around why his dad had to stay in the hospital. You assure him that his dad is getting stronger every day, and soon, they’ll be back to playing in the park and reading bedtime stories.

In the afternoons, you work on light educational activities like drawing and reading. Minjun loves to draw; his papers are filled with pictures of his garden and the plants and lots of drawings of him and his dad together, often with a big sun shining overhead. You send these drawings to Minho, who calls every evening to say goodnight, his voice always a mix of gratitude and wistfulness.

Each call becomes a little bridge, reconnecting the threads of the small family. Minho’s voice grows stronger each day, and his words begin to carry hope instead of just fatigue. He shares updates about his recovery, about the small victories of a full night’s sleep or a walk around the hospital ward without feeling dizzy.

One evening, as you and Minjun are setting up a board game in the living room, your phone buzzes. It’s Minho, and he’s calling a bit earlier than usual.

“Y/n, hey. I… I’m coming home tomorrow,” Minho’s voice is tentative, almost shy.

“That’s great news, Minho! Minjun will be so happy,” you respond, watching Minjun’s face light up at the mention of his dad.

“Can we… can I come over when I get back? I want to see Minjun, and I… I owe you a proper thank you,” Minho adds, his tone earnest.

“That's okay,” you assure him, feeling a complex knot of emotions at his return but happy for Minjun’s sake.

The next day is bright and sunny, and Minjun is practically vibrating with excitement. “Is Daddy coming now? Or now?” he asks every few minutes, peering out the window.

“Soon, little bug. Let’s go to the garden. We can show him how much everything has grown since he’s been gone,” you suggest, leading him outside.

You're both kneeling in the garden, Minjun excitedly pointing out each new sprout and blossom, when you hear the gate click. Looking up, you see Minho, thinner and a bit pale but smiling as he watches his son.

“Daddy!” Minjun screams, sprinting towards him with a speed that surprises both of you. Minho drops to his knees just in time to catch him, embracing him tightly. His eyes close as he buries his face in Minjun’s soft curls. 

“I missed you so much, buddy,” Minho murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

“Missed you more,” Minjun replies, his small hands cupping his face as he kisses his nose. 

You walk over slowly, giving them a moment, before Minho looks up at you, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “Y/nnie, thank you,” he says, standing up to face you. “It means a lot.”

“There’s no need to thank me, Minho. I’m just glad you’re okay,” you reply, your voice gentle.

“No, I need to say this,” Minho insists, taking a deep breath. “I was wrong, and I’m sorry for how I treated you. You’ve been nothing but kind, and I took that for granted. I hope I can make it up to both of you somehow.”

“One step after the other. For now, you should rest; we can talk properly later,” you suggest, offering a smile that Minho returns gratefully.

Minho reaches into his pocket, and you can hear him pulling out his keys. He stretches out his hand almost timidly, offering you your spare keys to his home. “You're always welcome. If not for me, then for him, please. I don't want him to suffer just because I fucked up.”

You hesitantly take them, able to tell he's trying to fix things. “I…I'll think about it. I need time, Min.”

“That's okay,” he assures you. “Your replacement is shit, by the way,” he says with a weak grin. 

You chuckle softly. “No, that's you being used to someone handling things for you more than for the others,” you remind him. You inhale deeply and awkwardly rub your neck. “I'll also think about that, okay?” 

“Okay,” he nods, unable to hide the hope in his orbs at the mere chance of you coming back. “I'm sorry.”

“I know,” you assure him. “Me too…Now, go rest, please. Call if you need something.”

“Bye, Y/nnie,” Minjun says, hugging you tightly as you get down on his level. “Love you.”

You swallow softly, a similar surprise lacing both Minho's and your features. “I love you too, buddy,” you answer honestly and squeeze him gently. “Now go home with your daddy, yeah?”

-

The quiet of the morning was filled only by the faint sounds of the city waking up beyond the walls of the small, cozy room where Minho found himself slowly coming to consciousness. As his senses sharpened, the first thing he became aware of was the warm, small body pressed against his side. Gently turning his head, he sees Minjun, his little baby, sleeping peacefully next to him, his chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm of deep sleep. The sight fills Minho with an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love.

Carefully so as not to wake him, Minho wraps his arms around Minjun, pulling him close. The boy, still deep in his dreams, instinctively snuggles closer into his father's embrace. Even in sleep, Minjun seems to sense his father's need for closeness and comforts him with his mere presence.

Minho’s eyes trace the soft, youthful features of his son's face, noting the faint freckles that dust his nose and the gentle curl of his lips. Memories flood through Minho’s mind—the first time he held Minjun, the first steps he took, the first words he spoke.

Recovering from his incident, Minho was forced to confront his own vulnerabilities and the stark realization of how much he relied on the presence of his son. These mornings, waking up next to Minjun, were sacred. They were not just moments of physical rest but crucial for his emotional recovery as well. 

Minjun shifts in his sleep, a small sigh escaping him. His small hand grips Minho's shirt tightly as if, even in his dreams, he is determined to hold on. Minho’s heart aches with an overwhelming mix of joy and sorrow—joy for his son's presence and health and sorrow for the times he hadn’t been there as fully as he wanted.

“Daddy loves you, Minjun,” Minho whispers into his son's dark curls, his voice barely audible. A tear escapes the corner of his eye as he tightens his embrace, grateful beyond words for his return to health and the second chance it represented.

The sun begins to cast its first rays into the room, streaks of light that paint the walls with the colors of dawn. The light seems to coax the city to life gently, and as it does, it also seems to awaken Minjun. The little boy yawns and blinks open his eyes, surprised for a moment to find himself so close to his father.

“Daddy?” Minjun’s voice is sleepy and confused but also filled with an affection that comes from deep within.

“Good morning, buddy,” Minho says, his voice still thick with emotion. “Did you sleep well?”

Minjun nods, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands. “Yes.”

Minho smiles. “That sounds good. Maybe we can go to the park later?”

“Yeah!” Minjun’s face lights up with excitement. “And I can be a hero!”

Minho laughs, the sound rich and full of genuine happiness. “Of course, my little superhero. But first, how about we make some pancakes for breakfast?”

Minjun’s agreement is instantaneous and enthusiastic. As they get up and make their way to the kitchen, Minho keeps his son close, his hand resting lightly on Minjun’s shoulder. Making breakfast together was a simple activity, yet it held so much meaning for Minho, just being home again. 

As Minho watches Minjun clumsily crack eggs and stir batter, he is filled with gratitude for his young son's resilience. He had managed to stay strong and loving throughout the difficulties they had faced.

“Daddy?” Minjun looks up at him, a slight frown on his face. “Are you okay? You look sad.”

Minho is taken aback, realizing that his emotional reflections must have shown on his face. He kneels down, bringing himself to eye level with Minjun, and smiles.

“I’m more than okay; I’m happy,” he assures his son, his hand gently cupping the boy’s cheek. “I’m just very thankful for you, Minjun. You’re my little hero, did you know that?”

Minjun giggles, the sound like music to Minho’s ears. “I’m your hero?”

“Yes, you are,” Minho assures him, hugging him tightly. “My biggest hero.”

Minjun hugs him back, his small arms strong and sure. “It’s okay, Daddy. I take care of you.”

The words, so earnest and sincere from such a young soul, fill Minho with an even deeper appreciation for his son and his eyes with tears. He realizes that while he was often the one taking care of Minjun, his son was also taking care of him in many ways, providing love, motivation, and a reason to recover fully and well.

One week later 

For Minjun's birthday, Minho decided on a cozy movie night—a welcome change from the usual buzz of birthday parties and perfectly suited for their small circle. The boys all love a good movie night, find children's movies hilarious, and, most importantly, they all love Minjun like their own. 

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a soft glow through the windows, they arrive one by one.

Chan and Felix arrive last with a special surprise for the birthday boy. “Jiho, mate, we brought someone with us,” Felix leans down to him conspiratorially. 

“Who?” he asks curiously, eyes growing wide. Chan steps aside and gently pulls you out of hiding. Minjun squeaks in delight, looking up at Minho excitedly. “Daddy, it's Y/nnie!” he says, jumping in place impatiently. 

Minho giggles and gently brushes back his curls. “Well, go say hi, dumpling.”

Minjun doesn't need a second invitation to fall into your arms. “Hey, little bug,” you say quietly. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” he beams happily before moving on to greet the next guest. “Uncle Channie, up!” he says, reaching out for him. 

Chan smirks, lifts him up and throws him into the air above his head a little, catching him safely again. Minho flinches heavily, reaching for Minjun in shock. Felix laughs at him, gently patting his back. “Channie, babe, don't give him a heart attack.” 

Chan laughs, putting a giggling Minjun back on his feet. “Sorry, Min,” he chuckles, and Minho snorts. 

“Alright, come on in, you know the way,” Minho laughs.

The living room was transformed into a fortress of comfort. Pillows and blankets were strewn across the floor, creating a plush sea of soft fabrics that invited everyone to kick off their shoes and sink in. The air was rich with the aroma of popcorn and sweet treats that lined the table alongside a stack of Minjun’s favorite animated movies.

Minho watches as Felix and Jeongin set up the projector, their antics punctuated by light-hearted banter that fills the room with laughter. Hyunjin and Seungmin are tasked with stringing fairy lights around the room, adding a magical ambiance that makes the space feel like a small cinema hall. Jisung and Changbin, meanwhile, busy themselves in the kitchen, popping more popcorn and arranging a variety of snacks on platters. Minho watches his family with a smile, each member contributing to the evening’s success, weaving their love for Minjun into every detail.

The movie starts, the lights dimmed to mimic a theater, and the first frames flicker across the makeshift screen. Minjun sits between Minho and you, a perfect sandwich of his favorite people, his face lit by the soft glow of the projector as he watches with wide-eyed wonder.

Throughout the evening, the adults' eyes often meet over Minjun's head, shared smiles of affection and slight amusement at his captivated reactions to the on-screen adventures. During a particularly exciting scene, Minjun would sometimes stand, pointing at the screen and explaining to you loudly the many details of the plot as he understood them.

"The hero's gonna save everyone. He's strong like daddy!" Minjun's voice is full of pride and excitement, making everyone chuckle, especially Minho, whose heart swells with love and a bit of awe at his son's interpretation.

The room is filled with the sounds of the movie, mixed with Minjun's occasional commentary and the boys' gentle laughs.

Halfway through the second movie, Minjun’s eyelids begin to droop, and he leans more heavily against you, his small hand gripping yours as he fights the pull of sleep. You look down at him, a soft smile playing on your lips, touched by the trust and affection Minjun shows you.

Minho notices this gentle exchange, and his heart is filled with gratitude for your presence in Minjun’s life, especially during the times when he couldn’t be there himself. He makes a mental note to himself to ensure you know how much your support meant to him, perhaps later when the movies are done and the excitement of the day has settled into the quiet of the night.

As the evening winds down and the credits roll on the last movie, Minho gently nudges Minjun awake to blow out the candles on his small birthday cake. With a sleepy grin, Minjun makes a wish and blows with all his might, the room erupting into applause.

"Happy birthday, Minjun!" everyone cheers, making him giggle happily and hide in Minho’s arms shyly. 

Minho soothingly kisses his hair and cuddles him close. Your heart warms seeing them, and glancing around the room, you can tell how much Minho and his little boy mean to everyone. Minho looks almost as tired as Minjun, but both are beaming with happiness. The boys fall back into their usual chatter, and you more or less subtly watch Minho next to you with Minjun still in his arms. They're having a quiet conversation, Minjun resting his head against Minho's and holding onto his hands. You feel the old, familiar warmth spreading through you as you watch them. Getting into that fight with Minho had made you feel awful. You missed your time with Minjun and you realized how used you've grown to Minho's presence in your life. 

Minho's eyes find yours, and your breath hitches at the softness of his orbs. “Minjun's asking if you could read him a bedtime story?”

“Oh, of course,” you nod. 

“The bedroom’s upstairs, second door on the left. You can get comfortable there; he loves cuddling in bed before,” he assures you kindly and watches you leave with Minjun. 

Chan nudges him gently. “You two are alright again?”

“We're working on it,” he tells him, and Chan hums agreeingly. 

“We should wrap it up,” Chan chuckles, and Minho hums agreeingly. 

“Yongbokie and you can have the guestroom upstairs. You'd get home way too late,” he tells him. Chan and Felix live the furthest away, after all. “Jisung and Hyunjin can have the sofa,” he laughs, seeing them already deep asleep there. 

Seungmin, listening in, pouts softly. “I'm tired, I don't want to leave.”

Minho glances at him and Innie, resting their heads on Changbin’s shoulders. “I can only offer you to sleep here with all the pillows and stuff.”

“Sounds great,” Jeongin mumbles drowsily. 

“Mhm, then that's settled,” Chan chuckles, soothingly rubbing Felix's shoulder as the younger one slowly grows heavy against him. “Should we clean up tomorrow then?” 

“Yeah, I'll do it once everyone's gone,” Minho laughs. 

“Lix and I can help,” he assures him, earning a thankful smile. 

About ten minutes later, once Minho made sure everyone had what they needed he made his way to his own bedroom, Chan next to him. “I forgot Lix gets cold easily,” he chuckles and carefully pushes the door open. He stops in his tracks, seeing you comfortably sprawled out on his bed, Minjun on your chest, and a book loosely in your hand. You're both asleep, looking peaceful and content. “Shit, I forgot about Y/nnie,” he curses quietly. 

“You can't really move him anywhere else, look at Minjun,” Chan giggles. 

“And where am I supposed to sleep?” he asks quietly, grabbing a fluffy blanket for Chan and Felix. 

“There's plenty of room next to them,” he says. 

“Chan. I can't just get into bed with my assistant,” he argues. 

“Your so-called assistant is hugging your son and asleep in your bed. I think you're way past that, mate,” he laughs. “It's your bed; just keep your distance or whatever.” Minho anxiously chews on his lower lip, debating a hundred different possibilities in his head. “Or you join me and Lix?”

“No, you two touchy fuckers can have that bed for your own,” he giggles, shoving his chest. “Not interested in a threesome right now.”

“Right now?” Chan teases, and Minho playfully raises his fist at him. “What about-”

“Go sleep, you're talking nonsense,” he laughs and gently shoves him outside. “Idiot.”

Chan giggles and gently shoves him back inside. “I'll hit you if you don't sleep in your own bed tonight. You still need rest, idiot.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he groans. 

Minho stares down at the scene before him, the weight of Chan's words sinking in. He watches you and Minjun, both deep in the tranquil sleep of the innocent and the cared-for, their faces peaceful and free from the burdens that Minho carried on his shoulders.

Gathering all his bravery, Minho slowly approaches the bed, his movements hesitant but deliberate. As he reaches the edge, he pauses, taking a moment to truly look at you—someone who has become so much more than just an assistant. You have been his support system, his son's caregiver, and his unintentional savior in times of unspoken despair. How could he continue to maintain a mere professional boundary when everything about your relationship had transcended those limits?

Minho carefully settles on the far edge of the bed, maintaining a respectful distance. He lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling, his mind racing with thoughts and emotions. The soft sounds of Minjun's and your breathing soothe his nerves. 

The room is silent, save for the soft ticking of the clock and the distant sounds of the city. Minho turns his head slightly, watching Minjun snuggle closer to you in his sleep. The sight is both beautiful and a stark reminder of the intimate moments he had missed during his recovery.

After a few moments, you shift in your sleep, perhaps sensing the added presence or the slight dip in the mattress as Minho lay down. Your eyes flutter open, and in the dim light, your gaze meets Minho’s. 

“Sorry,” you murmur, your voice sleepy yet filled with warmth. “I can leave.”

“Don't,” Minho says quickly and swallows hard. “He's comfortable here with you; there's no need to leave.”

“You're sure?” you ask, and he hums in response. “Well, you should get comfortable as well. There's no need to hover over the edge of the bed.”

Those words, softly spoken, are like a key turning in a lock for Minho. They break through his last hesitations, sweeping away the remnants of his doubts. He shifts closer, reducing the distance between him and you, and allows himself to relax fully. You turn on your side to face him, your eyes locking with his in the dim light.

“I’m sorry,” Minho whispers, the words thick with emotions. “For everything.”

Your hand finds his under the blankets, giving it a gentle squeeze. “We’re past apologies, Minho. I fucked up because I took him without telling you. I didn't think and expected you to trust me; that wasn't fair. You overreacted…which is kind of understandable. I'm sorry for my part in this, and you're sorry for yours. We're okay.”

Minho feels a warmth spread through his chest. He nods, accepting your forgiveness, and turns his attention to Minjun, who murmurs something inaudible in his sleep and snuggles closer to both of you.

-

The early morning rays begin to seep through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. Your eyes slowly flutter open as they meet your face. Stretching your tired body, you slowly realize that Minjun is gone already…and that Minho has gotten a lot closer overnight. You glance down and see his arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to himself. His head is buried in your neck; you can feel his breath dancing across your skin. His hair feels soft against your skin and you wonder how it'd feel if you sank your hand into it. 

You freeze, unsure of what to do next. The warmth of his breath against your skin sends a mix of comfort and alarm coursing through you. This is Minho, you remind yourself, technically, he's still my boss. Yet, the intimacy of this accidental cuddling was something entirely new, a boundary neither of you had crossed before.

Minho stirs, his movements slow and sluggish as he approaches the edge of consciousness. You hold your breath, waiting for his reaction when he realizes the closeness you both shared through the night. His eyes open gently, adjusting to the soft morning light, and then widen slightly as he takes in the position you both are in.

There's a moment of silent understanding, a mutual acknowledgment of the unintentional closeness. Minho’s eyes flicker with a mix of surprise and something softer, a vulnerability you've seen only in fleeting moments. He pulls back slightly, his hand retreating from where it had found a place around your waist.

“I-I’m sorry,” Minho mutters, his voice a low rasp tinged with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to-.”

“It’s okay,” you interject quickly, your voice soft, attempting to brush off the awkwardness. “We were both asleep. Things happen.”

Minho nods, his cheeks tinged with a blush that he can't hide. He sits up, rubbing the back of his neck—anxious gestures that you’ve come to recognize as his way of coping with discomfort. 

Silence fills the room for a few heartbeats. Both of you glance away, then back at each other, unsure of how to navigate this new, uncharted territory in your relationship. Finally, Minho clears his throat, his eyes meeting yours with an earnestness that makes your heart skip a beat.

“I didn’t intend for that to happen,” he says, his voice steady but soft. “But I can’t say I regret waking up next to someone who means so much to Minjun… and to me.”

Your breath hitches slightly at his words, a warm flush spreading across your cheeks. “Minho, I-”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Minho interrupts gently. “I just want you to know that I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for us. For being here, for taking care of Minjun when I couldn’t, for being more than just an assistant, more than just a friend.”

The weight of his gratitude sits between you, heavy and warm. You nod, unsure of how to articulate the jumble of feelings his proximity and his words have stirred in you. 

“Thank you for trusting me, Minho,” you manage to say. 

Minho smiles a genuine smile that reaches his eyes, easing some of the tension. He glances at the clock, then back at you. “I guess we should get up. I promised Minjun pancakes, and I suspect he’ll be storming in soon if we don’t start cooking.”

You laugh, the sound light and freeing, breaking the last remnants of awkwardness. “Pancakes it is,” you agree, getting out of bed. You adjust your clothes, still feeling the warmth of where Minho’s arm was wrapped around you.

As you both head to the kitchen, the normalcy of the routine helps mend the morning’s awkward start. Minjun greets you both with a bright smile, oblivious to the tension from earlier, comfortably on Changbin’s lap. “Uncle Changnin is fun,” he announces, making everyone giggle at his slight mispronunciation. 

“Mhm, of course, I am,” Changbin smirks, shooting the others a glare. “Uncle Changnin is fun..unlike some others here.”

Minho laughs, rolling his eyes at him. “Who wants breakfast?”

Throughout the morning, there are shared glances and shy smiles between you and Minho, a silent acknowledgment of a bond that had deepened in the most unexpected way. As you watch Minho flip pancakes, his laughter mingling with Minjun’s excited chatter, you feel a contentment settle over you. This, you realize, is more than just a job; more than just a responsibility-it’s a part of your life that you cherish deeply.

Later, as you sit together eating the slightly deformed pancakes that Minjun insists are perfect, you catch Minho’s eye, and he gives you a small, grateful smile. You'd be okay. 

PART TWO | PART FOUR

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

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[sinsmockingbird]

Hello hello I hope this ask reaches you well because I'm very not well thinking about rich alpha ptn women aka Eirene Chelsea and Cabernet share a lil omega together 🥵🥵

You're a freshly recruited omega who's responsible for working in the MBCC's cafeteria. The job is simple, you stay behind counters to serve the Sinners their meals and wait until they leave to clean the area. The bureau pays you well, enough to make ends meet every months but in your mind, you know you can achieve more than this.

In the first few weeks you do job perfectly, and even make friends with some Sinners. One of them is the famous Cabernet Franc, daughter of one of the riches families in Eastside. Cabernet clearly has an interest in you, her lust keeps growing stronger and stronger but before she can sweep you away, you magically disappear from your job in the cafeteria. When she discovers that you've resigned to work for the Quinn Industry, she knows she has to have a personal talk with the Eirene Quinn.

Chelsea thought she found you first, a naive, innocent and unmated omega who's working hard to earn money in the bureau. Immediately she takes you under her wings, telling you to be her mate and she will provide you an endless amount of money! When you reluctantly refuse, saying that you would rather be financially independent and that the Quinn CEO has already promised you a position in her company, Chelsea is absolutely furious. How dare the woman steal you from her?

On the other hand, Eirene is very pleased that she has the upper hand in keeping you to herself. You come to her cell all by your own, personally asking her about the vacant positions in her company without fears that she may tear your life into threads. Your determination and willingness to have a stable job in her company amused her, but it was your sweet odor of purity attracted her. It didn't take much effort to trick you into working as her "private secrectary", you were just so oblivious to the alpha's hungry stare. Eirene is the woman of conquer, so when she sees something she wants, she will get it. But why do you come into her office, according to her request to give you a brief explanation of work (a lie ofc), with two angry alphas follow quietly behind?

As a result, you are trapped in a same room with 3 intimidating alphas who're trying to kill each other to win over you. You're freaked out at the scene before you, wanting to run away and hide. But before you can take one step away from their gaze Chelsea makes an offer: "Why don't we share this little one?" The other two look at each other in silence, then nod their head in agreement.

The only one who seems to disagree is you, though. Being mated to not one, but three alphas at the same time, how can your body withstand the rough treatment? You try to run again, only to be caught in Cabernet's vines and being tied up in an embarrassing position: legs spread out on the head, hands on your head, immobile. Three pair of eyes stare at your clothed body making you instinctively squirm, their pheromones being spread you cause your heat to overcome your senses, then in a blink of an eye you are begging them to touch you desperately.

Half an hour later you have Chelsea behind your back, thrusting in and out of your ass and playing with your nipples, Eirene on her knees in front pushing her cock into your mouth, and Cabernet hungrily taking your pussy. Although the alphas still hate each other, they all decide that pleasing the omega together is their priority and tone down the hatred. Why would they fight when they have a needy girl to dote on like this? By the time each woman has their full, you've passed out from exhaustion and overstimulation, leaving to clean up the wet mess on the bed, full of their cum. Eirene plugs your pussy up, telling the other two that whoever your first child is can have you to themselves for an entire week.

They never back down from a challenge, so prepare yourself to be absolutely ravaged in the next months...

Oh god, this is so hot. Like I can completely see Cabernet getting pussy drunk off you. She's eating you out, her little Omega, like your a fucking feast, and you are! She would happily eat you out for hours, not caring if you've long passed out, she's just addicted to your taste, and you can't blame her! She'd be fucking/humping her cock into the bed, and she doesn't need any stimulation on her pretty cock, because tasting your cum is enough to get her off.

Chelsea is pathetic when it comes to you, her shared Omega. She can be possessive, wanting to mark you up with her teeth and nails, to try and show claim that your hers- even though she does share you with two other women. She's the one mainly fucking you with her cock, giving you endless creampies, because she doesn't ever want to pull out of your pretty pussy.

Eirene is probably the most dominant out of the three, and she's the one who sees you the most, considering you work with her. Being her private secretary means you're usually under her desk in her office, having her cock shoved down your through, making you suck her off and cockwarm her with your mouth. She also loves fucking you against the wall of windows in her office, making you stare at the bustling street below while she's fucking you rough and fast and staining your soaked pussy with her cum.

@sea-lanterns You'll love this because it has your wife, Cabernet.

[your-local-simp-writers]

Can you write a sfw of Rook where he has been admiring us from a distance and somehow is always there when we conveniently need something

Apologies for the radio silence; we’ve been swamped with academic commitments and personal matters, leaving us little time to update you all. But we’re back now! If you haven't gotten to know who we are don't be shy here is our "༺☆༻ Introduction ༺☆༻"

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

Secret Admirer

Word Count: 946

Warnings: None

Rook Hunt x Fem! Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

I always sensed him before I saw him—Rook Hunt, the enigmatic archer whose presence was like a whisper in the wind. He had a way of appearing just when I needed him, as if he could read my thoughts from afar. It was both unsettling and comforting, this silent dance we shared within the halls of Night Raven College.

I remember the first time I truly noticed him. It was during a downpour, the kind that seemed to drench the world in shades of gray. I was caught without an umbrella, cursing my luck, when he materialized beside me, his own umbrella suddenly sheltering us both.

“Why do you always show up like this?” I asked, my voice barely audible over the rain.

Rook simply smiled, his eyes gleaming with a mischief that belied his gentlemanly demeanor. “Perhaps it is fate, or perhaps it is simply my desire to be near you,” he replied, his French accent wrapping around each word like a caress.

From that day on, Rook became a constant figure in my life. He was there when I dropped my books, his hands quick to catch them before they hit the ground. He was there when I struggled with a particularly tricky spell, his guidance subtle but invaluable. And he was there when I felt alone, his presence a silent promise of companionship.

It was strange, this new intimacy that bloomed between us. I had always been fiercely independent, never one to seek out touch or comfort. But with Rook, it was different. His touch didn’t feel like an intrusion; it felt like coming home.

“Being touch-starved and needy was really starting to mess with my reputation as a tough gall,” I joked one evening as we sat in the gardens, the stars above us twinkling like diamonds.

Rook chuckled, his hand finding mine in the darkness. “You are strong, mon amour, but even the strongest warriors need rest,” he said, his thumb tracing circles on the back of my hand.

Our relationship was a series of stolen moments and lingering glances. We were like two pieces of a puzzle, fitting together in a world that often felt too chaotic to comprehend. His touch was a balm to the coldness that had settled in my bones, a warmth that seeped into my very soul.

“They wanted to be touched, to be missed, to be loved. Was that too much to ask for?” I whispered one night as we lay on the grass, the earth solid beneath us.

Rook turned to me, his face serious for once. “You are touched, you are missed, and you are loved—by me,” he said, and I knew he meant every word.

In Rook Hunt, I found an unexpected ally, a confidant, and a source of strength. Our connection was a delicate thread woven through the tapestry of our daily lives, growing stronger with each shared smile and every gentle touch.

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

As the semester at Night Raven College progressed, Rook’s subtle presence became a constant in my life. His appearances were no longer surprising; they were expected, anticipated even. He was always there, a step behind me, ready to catch me if I stumbled, both literally and metaphorically.

One afternoon, as I was poring over ancient texts in the library, I felt the familiar gaze on my back. Without looking up, I knew it was Rook, his silent watch a comforting pressure. “You don’t have to hide, Rook,” I called out softly, “I know you’re there.”

There was a rustle of fabric, and then he was beside me, his hand brushing mine as he placed a forgotten quill back on the table. “Mademoiselle, I do not hide,” he said, his voice a gentle chide, “I merely ensure that you are not in want of anything.”

His concern was touching, and I found myself smiling at his words. “And what if what I want is your company?” I asked, challenging him with a playful tilt of my head.

Rook’s eyes sparkled with delight, and he pulled up a chair, sitting close enough that our arms touched. “Then you shall have it, for as long as you desire,” he replied, and we spent the rest of the afternoon lost in conversation, the texts forgotten.

It wasn’t just his timely interventions that drew me to him; it was the way he listened, truly listened. When I spoke, he gave me his undivided attention, his eyes never straying, his responses always thoughtful. He had a way of making me feel seen, understood, and valued.

Our relationship was a slow burn, a gradual build-up of trust and affection. We shared secrets and dreams, our hopes for the future intertwining like the vines that climbed the walls of the college. With Rook, I could be myself, unguarded and true.

The touch-starved feeling that had once plagued me began to fade, replaced by the warmth of Rook’s nearness. His touch was a balm to my soul, a gentle reminder that I was not alone in this vast, twisted world.

One evening, as we walked through the moonlit gardens, Rook stopped suddenly, turning to face me. “You have become my most cherished companion,” he confessed, his voice earnest, “In your presence, I find a peace I have known nowhere else.”

I reached out, my hand finding his, our fingers intertwining naturally. “And you have become mine,” I admitted, the truth of my words ringing clear in the night air.

We stood there, under the silver glow of the moon, our hands clasped, our hearts beating in unison. It was a moment of perfect harmony, a silent vow that whatever the future held, we would face it together.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 51

Part 1 Part 50

Keeping secrets from his Mom doesn’t come naturally to Will Byers. He’d told her after the first fight he’d had with Mike. He’d told her when he’d cheated on a math test. He’d told her when Lonnie had hit him, that first and only time.

So, it’s not a surprise that it doesn’t take him long to slip up.

She’d asked if he knew what Steve and Eddie were up to; planning to invite them for dinner. WIll had told her that Steve was at Barb’s house, and Eddie was in his trailer. His Mom had looked quizically at him, and asked if he’d been on the phone with them that morning.

It all came tumbling out, the way the thread tying the three of them together has only seemed to grow stronger. How sometimes he swears he can feel it tug. How he’s learned to figure out their locations by the strenght and direction of it tugging against his sternum.

She hadn’t taken it well.

“I just don’t think we should sit around and wait for the next bad thing to happen!” Mom shouts from the kitchen.

He’d left her, pacing in front of the phone, running her fingers through her hair as she waiting for Jonathan to get home.

“How do you know they won’t make it worse?” Jonathan demands.

Will curls up on his bed, holding his palms against his ears. This time, there’s no one playing the clash to distract from the sounds of fighting. Jonathan and his Mom love him. He knows it’s not the same, but every raised voice hits him like a blow, until Will crawls out of his window.

He’s walking before he realizes what he’s done, following the tug tug tug toward the closest fixed point until he reaches the Munson trailer. His other tether billows behind him, reaching back into the suburbs toward Steve. He knocks.

Eddie answers, shirtless and in sweatpants. Will gets momentarily distracted by the tattoo on Eddie’s pec he’s never seen, the bats on his arm he’s only barely glimpsed. Eddie snaps his fingers in front of Will’s face, smirking down at him. Will feels his ears turn red, isn’t sure why.

Eddie doens’t looks surprised to see Will, but when he looks behind WIll, he does look surprised at the lack of idling car, waiting for him to be safely ensconsed in the trailer before driving off.

“Where’s your keepers?” Eddie asks, opening the door wide enough for Will to slip through.

Will huddles down into Wayne’s chair, grabbing onto the armrests like he’s afraid Eddie will yank him free. Eddie sits on the couch, grabbing the remote like he’s about to turn on the television for a casual hangout between friends.

“I told my Mom about the thing!” Will blurts.

Eddie freezes, remote held up, thumb hovering over the on button as he looks over to Will with wide eyes. “What thing?” he asks, but Will can tell. He already knows.

“The…connection?” he says, fumbling like always about the things he doesn’t have words for. “About you and Steve.”

Eddie drops the remote onto the coffee table. It clatters loudly enough that Will flinches back. Luckily, Eddie’s eyes are closed and he doesn’t notice. He sighs wearily, rubbing the bridge of his nose as Will shrinks further and further into himself.

“Okay,” Eddie sighs. “What does she want to do?” Eddie opens his eyes and looks up at Will, seemingly noticing for the first time how he’s shrinking into himself.

“Sorry,” Will wobbles.

“Oh, hey, it’s fine!” Eddie says, springing from his chair and hovering in front of Wayne’s chair, clasping his hands on Will’s shoulders. “We’re in this together, Baby Byers. Okay?”

The force of gravity sends tears cascading down Will’s cheeks as he nods. Eddie schooches onto the arm of the chair. It creaks dangerously, but holds as Eddie puts his arm around Will’s shoudlers and pulls him into his side.

It takes long minutes for Will to calm his shaky breathing and dry his face on the sleeve of his flannel. Eddie just squeezes his shoulder, and waits patiently for him to calm down.

“Sorry,” Will says again, voice scracthy but dry.

“None of that!” Eddie says, booping him on the nose. “You’re allowed to tell your Mom things.”

There’s a wistfull twinge to his voice that makes Will shudder. Eddie and Steve seem so much older; he forgets sometimes that they’re still kids, who’ve only got one uncle between them.

“She can be your Mom, too,” Will says. Eddie laughs, like he thinks Will is joking. He’s not.

“Okay, okay,” Eddie replies, unwrapping his arm from around Will to hold up both hands placatingly. Will immediately misses the warmth. “What does your Mom want to do?”

Will looks down at the ratty sneakers he forgot to take off at the door. Hopefully Wayne won’t mind. “Her and Jonathan are fighting.” Eddie sways his shoulder into him, the hight difference making him knock lightly into Will’s head. “She wants to take me to the lab.”

“And Johnny Boy doesn’t?” Eddie asks.

Will shakes his head. “He’s afraid.” Will doesn’t tell Eddie that he is, too.

Eddie sighs, slumping back onto the back of the chair, sqwaucking as the weight almost sends them tumbling back. Eddie slams his heels into the ground, steadying them both with a startled laugh.

“Saved your life!” he jokes. But he really did. Him and Steve, and all they’re getting out of it is outed to the scientists no one seems to trust. Sensing the shift back to melancholy, Eddie wraps his arm around Will again.

They’re silent for a moment besides the sound of Eddie’s throat clicking with false starts. WIll snuggles in this time, tucking his head into Eddie’s chest, chin tucked into the other boy’s armpit.

“Whatever our Mom decides, we’ll face it together, okay?” Eddie says quietly, patting his back when WIll nods.

They stay silent until the phone rings. Will sits up, watching Eddie’s retreating back as he rushes to yank the phone off the hook. Will wipes his tacky eyes. His tears had long since dried out, but now his face feels puffy, sticky with saltwater.

“Hello?” Eddie asks before pausing, hunching his shoulders as he listens to the response. “Of course we’ll come, Mama Byers,” Eddie says.

WIll stiffens. He jumps up, stumbling into the kitchen to stand beside Eddie, trying to overhear what his Mom’s saying. He hears her tinny voice, but the words slur togeher unrecognizably.

“No, no, just tell me when,” Eddie says. He sounds like he’s smiling, but there are frown lines at the sides of his mouth and between his brow. They look unnatural on his sunny face.

“Okay. Uh, wait Mama Byers!” he shouts, presumably to get her to stay on the line a moment longer. He looks over at Will with a pinched mouth. Will knows what he’s going to say even before he opens his mouth. “Will’s uh, here?” It comes out like a question. Eddie winces as his Mom’s voice comes out louder and shriller from the other side. “No, he’s fine! You guys were just uh, fighting? So he came over.”

Eddie’s still grimacing as he listens to his Mom’s reply, not meeting Will’s betrayed gaze. “Of course. I’ll bring him home.”

He hangs up the phone with a click, shifting his eyes to Will and smiling awkwardly before holding up his hands and huffing at whatever look is on Will’s face. “Sorry, man!” Eddie turns, walking back to the living room, looking on the coffee table and beneath the couch before wandering into his bedroom. “She said she was going to tell you right then. Did you want her to freak out?”

Will swallows. “Tell me what?” he asks.

Will stands in the entryway, watching Eddie shuffle laundry piles in his disaster of a bedroom before picking up his keys with a triumphant sound. He shrugs on a diry t-shirt, and shoves his feet into some flip flops before pushing gently past Will and heading toward the front door. Will follows him.

“Looks like we’ve got a group appointment with the doctor,” Eddie says, griamcing as he swings the door open.

Will just hopes whoever they end up with isn’t evil.

Part 52

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x

[angelidiariess]

TO BE SEEN, TO BE HEARD, TO BE LOVED ⤹ gojou satoru

fic warnings. eating disorder, depression, mentions of suicide, profanity, illnesses, complicated relationships, mentions of emotional child abuse, + more to be updated

summary. with an arranged marriage in place, two estranged kindred spirits with opposite goals meet, one eager to put the pieces together and the other clinging to the thin thread of life. when their paths are pulled together, can they see through the schemes they create and remain unreachable or will they be in too deep?

tags/warnings𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 f!reader x gojou satoru, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pinning, rivals, eventual romance, self help book disguised as a love story, complicated/toxic relationships, family issues, borderline codependency but we dont talk about it, growing up together sorta until she gets scooped away, angst with a happy ending, reader is a sorcerer, she's bat shit crazy, but we love her anyway, heavy mentions of mental illnesses (depression), requited unrequited love, gojo satoru is whipped yall, suicide attempt, + more to be updated

series masterlist ⟶ i. heart to heart?

PROLOGUE: THE BEGINNING

In the scorching summer of 2006, the world crackled with an electrifying sense of anticipation and adventure. It was a time of exhilarating escapades and spontaneous thrills as people reveled in the boundless freedom of the season. 

She remembers being a kid, unburdened of duties, happy to know freedom for the first time, saying  ‘We’ll be together forever’ as if it was something nice, something to be excited about, and not a weight sitting heavily on their chests. She pretends Suguru and Gojo are by her side, saying their name ever so softly, telling Gojo to wake up before they are late to class.  She remembers those moments all too well. Then, tragedy struck one person, marking a deep turning point in her life. In an instant, her loved ones were taken from her, propelling her into a stark new reality that she had to face on her own.

'RUN’ was the word that was cried out on that day. Perhaps they were spoken by her sister or the head maiden who was frantically pacing back and forth between the two rooms, trying desperately to find anything that could save their lives.

They knew that escaping was not a choice, not an option for mere defenseless women. They dared not dream of training or honing the innate powers inherited from their lineage, one of the three greatest families in Jujutsu society, the Zenin Clan. They could only stay where they were, unable to fight the special curse and threat, because they were never trained to control their curse power, unlike the men in the family. They were only taught to be obedient and docile, like stereotypical 'good' housewives meant for marriage and bearing children.

They could only wait as the footsteps grew closer, the voices of each agonizing screech nearby became louder, and her bracelet only grew tighter in her hands as if it was constraining her, taunting her for her weakness and the predicament that beheld them.

She remembered the words that were uttered years ago, "You must never remove that bracelet, for it may cause havoc upon those you love." That crusty old man merely went on and on about how they could not remove the bracelet, no matter how much they wanted to. But right now, her doom was inevitable. The metallic stench of blood only became stronger and stronger as every second seemed to pass by. So, who was she to be blamed for snipping the shackles from her arms? To finally stand up for once in her life and not let mere fate and the words of others determine her actions. Her defiance was palpable, a force to be reckoned with. Yet fate somehow held other plans for her.

The reader did not know that these shackles held down her power, kept it dormant. 

As soon as she ripped the shackles off her hands and stood up to protect one of the few people she had in her wretched world, a lightning-like sparkling curse power surged through her body. The surroundings began to glow from the power overtaking her. She looked at her sister one last time, fear glinting in her eyes, before the immense pressure of power blurred her vision. She had no idea it would be the last time she would see her beloved sister again. Her power became too much to control, overwhelming the floor beneath her. The pressure was so great that it created a circle of destruction.

Her sister, worried, rushed to her side, but before she could touch her, the pressure of her power became too much. An explosion erupted in the room, with her at the center of the chaos. Shielded by a force from her own power, she remained unscathed, but her sister whispered something to her—words she could not make out—before she collapsed from the intense pressure, her ears ringing and the room left in ruins.

・・・・・・ʕ ˵ ̿–ᴥ ̿– ˵ ʔ

Hushed whispers of pointed words from the distance awoken her from her unconsciousness. She could only make out slurs of hesitation from an older man, who she could not see due to the blindfold that disrupted her sense of sight. "The verdict must be disclosed once the perpetrator is conscious and ready for questioning," a man with a deep, authoritative voice explained. A crowd of protesters erupted in displeasure at the choice, loud enough to sting her ears to consciousness. "She must be held to a degree regardless of her prowess!" Another man said. "Do not fail to uphold her according to the law and disregard the crimes she had committed. Although she is a Zenin, she cannot simply do as she wants regardless of reason!"

At the mention of her clan, she perked up ever so slightly, making the crowd suddenly go quiet. In a split second, footsteps only came close to her in her rear sight, the harsh light illuminating a hand reaching forward to grab the blindfold from her face. The scene she saw when her eyes wandered was a surprise. What she expected to see was the head of her clan, Naobito Zenin, and the bastard of a father to be facing her, sitting leisurely at the seat center of the Zenin residence headquarters, yet what she saw instead was an old unfamiliar man furrowing their eyebrows at her as if she had murdered his cat. When she let her eyes wander around the room, it became more clear that she was certainly not at her own residence, but actually in the Jujutsu Kaisen headquarters restrained with shackles, treated as some sort of vicious criminal in question. 

 ‘No wonder I could not move,’ she thinks, cursing to herself.

As she searched the room, her eyes followed a familiar ocean-eyed man that she could recognize by touch alone, by smell; she would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. She would know him in death at the end of the world. 

Those ocean-blue eyes that once held so much loving and caring adoration now are ice cold, full of hatred, and hurt. She couldn't think of another time he’d looked like this, not since they’d first met. She swallows the next words that were uttered sending shivers to her spine.

“24 deaths,” the man continued with a nonchalant voice as if they did not just address a massacre. “7 casualties. Is that right, Zenin?”

She had wanted to scream in denial, to plead that it was all a misunderstanding. That there was a special grade curse had infiltrated their residence, forcing her to choose between the people she loved and the greater good. She wanted to so desperately tell them that she had no choice but to protect the people she loved, even though her attempt was futile as her fate, as they ended up as collateral damage in the end and left her all behind to deal with the mess that she made. But deep down, she knew that no amount of justification could wash away the blood on her hands.

Well as the saying, goes, you reap what you sow. In the end, she could not utter those words she longed to say for she knew better. She knew better than to label the whole situation as an accident for she had only herself to blame.

As they deliberated her fate, she contemplated confessing the truth, laying bare the guilt that weighed heavy on her soul. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to speak the damning words that would seal her doom. In the end, her silence spoke volumes, and the shadow of a death sentence loomed over her. Just as it seemed her fate was sealed, a powerful voice cut through the tension. 

Gojo Satoru stepped forward, his intense gaze fixed on her as he interceded on her behalf. “Her immense powers could be vital in safeguarding the world from catastrophic threats,” he argued, “and banishing her would be a shortsighted decision.” Acknowledging that she had misused her abilities for personal gain, the council reached a compromise. They decided to exile her to a remote location, her powers concealed by a powerful sorcery item that would strip her of her ability to wield sorcery. It was a harsh punishment, but one that offered a flicker of redemption and a chance to make amends for the lives she had taken.

She had wanted to be the best, to prove her father wrong, that she was someone worthy, someone who was more than a woman, more than what they saw her as: a weak, feeble marionette. She wanted someone to understand her, for a certain boy to kiss her, to save her little sister from the godforsaken place they called home, to be free. Free from the hallucinations when she was five, free from the pressure when she was twelve, free from the duties that were forced upon her like a noose since she was young and free from the lies she told herself now that she is sixteen. She had finally taken off the shackles and acted upon her life, but everybody was left behind. She had wondered then and there, ‘What was it all for?’

authors note: thank you for reading so far! if you have any suggestions or questions regarding the fanfic please let me know and i'll try my best to answer. hope you guys noticed the song of achilles reference in the chapter hehe. until then, see you next time^^

taglist: @eolivy, @kalopsia-flaneur

all rights reserved to @angel1blogg. please do not copy, repost, translate or modify my works in any platform. permission from the owner is needed for any alterations in any work

[daeificatio]

The professor had watched the exchange of introductions from the corner of the room. It wasn’t that he intended to hide or escape from the conversation, but rather that he wasn’t quite sure how to join in at first and ended up growing comfortable with just watching it unfold as he always did, notebook in hand as he made notes on which students would be coming as well as faculty, jotting down whatever names he could catch from the voices echoing in the room.

Quite the grim mission they had been assigned. A land unknown to him dealing with something as lowly and savage as a mass kidnapping of children. 

Unfortunately, to the ex-mercenary, it wasn’t an entirely new concept. Back when he traveled with his father’s merc band here and there they’d get notice of some small village getting raided by bandit groups and women and children getting taken away, though now…it seemed like it was no “group of bandits”, but rather organized armies.

The girl in his mind made comments about such disgusting practice, and Byleth couldn’t help but quietly agree. This had to end- but at the same time he grew worried about his own students. They were capable fighters and he believed in their skills but…they were still students, many of them with a glint of naivete in their eyes. Byleth would do his best to investigate and solve this mission, but his attention would be divided in making sure the students are safe.

His musings were interrupted once he noticed the room had grown slightly quiet, some eyes turned to his direction. Ah…so it was his turn now? He wasn’t really expecting it. Well, he knew he’d have to introduce himself at one point or another, but still. “I’m Byleth.”

The professor adjusted his posture, so he wouldn’t be leaning against the wall. “I teach sword and faith as well as survival techniques under no house.” He then slipped the notebook back into his pocket. “I’ll make sure everyone here is able to stay alive out there. Even teachers.” Somehow, he felt the need to make that remark.

In a manner that might have normally been uncharacteristic for her, Hilda leaned back and simply observed the introductions to begin with. Her typical inclination to converse and bond, never one shy to be the centre of attention, had been sidelined by her indignation at being sent on this voyage in the first place. The Professor's words still echoed in her mind...

You're going with them, Hilda. It'll be an opportunity to prove yourself and show some initiative. I know that you're capable.

Ha! Regardless of whether or not that was true -- and it wasn't -- all might have been forgiven if the month-long trip had at least been to her own home. The easing of the snowstorm had brought forth a bundle of increasingly anxious letters from her dear overprotective brother, and she was certain he would have been pleased to see her. But, no, she had been loaded onto a boat setting sail on a multi-day passage to the continent of Jugdral. No amount of complaining or wheedling had saved her this time. And so, here she sat, silently seething.

Listening to the words of her fellow travellers, however, her expression began to soften. Many of these people called Jugdral home. Their families and their people were potentially in danger. And she was no monster; she couldn't fault them for requesting the necessary resource and manpower to help them, if the rumours turned out to be true.

As the number of people around the table that had yet to introduce themselves began to dwindle, she leaned forward, her dark mood dissipating.

"Hi everyone! I'm Hilda. I might not be much use on the front lines, but I'll do what I can. Even if that's just cheering you on!"

[shitsndgiggs]

can you do an Arda Güler story where Arda and y/n fall in love but y/n's parents don't want them to be together so they leave so they can be together

PS. i love your's storys

EXPECTATIONS - ARDA GÜLER

In which your parents has set up an arranged marriage with someone else

Arda Güler x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

I stood at the edge of the garden, the cool night air brushing against my skin as I watched the stars shimmer above.

It was supposed to be a time of celebration, but I felt trapped.

My parents had arranged my marriage to someone I barely knew, someone who didn't hold my heart. My heart belonged to Arda.

I met Arda at a mutual friend's gathering a few months back. His laughter had a way of lighting up the room, and his eyes, deep and soulful, seemed to hold a universe of their own.

We had clicked instantly, our shared interests and dreams weaving a bond that was hard to ignore.

But now, standing in the shadow of my family's expectations, that bond felt like a fragile thread, ready to snap at any moment.

My phone buzzed, a message from Arda lighting up the screen.

Arda: Are you okay?

Me: Not really.

Arda: We need to talk. Can you sneak out for a bit?

Me: I can't leave the house. But we can text.

Arda: Y/N, we can't keep living like this. We need to take control of our own future.

I took a deep breath, my heart pounding as I typed my response.

Me: But how? My parents will never understand.

Arda: We leave. Tonight. Pack your bags.

I stared at his message, a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through me.

Could I really do this? Could I leave everything behind for a chance at happiness with Arda?

Me: Are you sure?

Arda: Yes. I love you, Y/N. We deserve to be happy. We deserve to be together.

When everyone had gone to bed, I packed my bags quietly, careful not to wake anyone.

The house was eerily silent, the only sound the ticking of the clock in the hallway.

A few minutes later, my phone buzzed again.

Arda: I'm outside. Take your time, but hurry.

I took a deep breath, giving my room one last glance before grabbing my bags and slipping out of the house.

My heart raced as I made my way to the front door, every creak of the floorboards sending a jolt of fear through me.

The cool night air hit my face as I stepped outside, my heart racing.

I spotted Arda's car parked a few houses down. He was waiting, just like he said he would be.

I hurried over, my bags feeling heavier with each step. As soon as I reached the car, Arda jumped out, taking the bags from me and loading them into the trunk.

He pulled me into a tight embrace, his warmth and the scent of his cologne enveloping me.

"We're doing this," he whispered into my hair. "We're really doing this."

We drove in silence for a while, the city lights fading into the distance.

The weight of our decision hung in the air, but so did a sense of freedom. After a while, I broke the silence.

"Where will we go?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I have a friend in another city," he replied. "We can stay with him until we figure things out."

I nodded, feeling a strange mixture of fear and excitement.

Despite the uncertainty, there was a thrill in knowing we were taking this leap together.

We arrived at Arda's friend's place early in the morning. His friend, a kind-hearted man named Adam, welcomed us with open arms. "You're safe here," he assured us. "Take all the time you need."

The days that followed were a whirlwind of emotions. We found an apartment and started to build our new life together.

It wasn't easy, but having Arda by my side made it all worthwhile. We leaned on each other, our love growing stronger with every passing day.

One evening, as we sat on the balcony of our new home, watching the sunset, Arda took my hand. "I know this hasn't been easy," he said softly. "But I promise you, we'll make it through. Together."

I smiled, squeezing his hand. "I believe you. And I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

[books-and-catears]

Unravelling Solomon

(many spoilers for chap 11)

Some personal theories and trying to look at the story from Solomon's lens.

Let's state some canon things we have noticed in the story of both Obey me and Nightbringer.

MC is Solomon's one true soulmate/twin flame

Solomon took an instant liking to MC in the very beginning, calling it mere curiousity.

- I think he sensed a Kindred soul. Just like Thirteen says we both seem like 'cheerful idiots' at the very first glance. Wouldn't Solomon would be even quicker to detect a soul similar to his own?

Thirteen claims our soul sparkles the same way Solomon's used to, it still does the same but just a little different.

- Solomon has gone through some unspeakable trauma damaging his soul to that level. And he's hyper protective that MC doesn't go through the same.

Solomon's card: Threads of Fate. MC's first red string was connected to Solomon.

- Okay, this might be a big stretch but hear me out. We all know Solomon's magic is strong and mostly accurate even in its most experimental stage.

So when his powder of revealing soulmates ended up showing all of MC's bonds - it inadvertently showed the strongest first. The strongest bond between two most similar souls.

....

Solomon's Obsession with Lucifer's Pact

Do you know who has consistently been a direct threat of MC's survival?

From the first dance, as he threatened MC while almost snapping their wrist in half to his most recent attempt on MC's life in the past - it has been Lucifer.

The Lucifer who would rather use his powers and hurt his own brother and an innocent angel just to exact his justice on a meddlesome human (cue the scene where MC protects Beel and Luke).

The Lucifer who doesn't hesitate to lose his head and attempt to destroy MC even though he noted how MC has been slowly and surely healing his brothers.

The same Lucifer who even now, tries to eliminate you as a threat even as his own brothers vouch for your integrity and you try to prove your good intentions.

Solomon watches helplessly as you constantly throw yourself at the mercy of this fallen angel.

In season 2, Solomon legit states that he would have stabbed Lucifer to save the three realms himself if it didn't upset you. Imagine how he must feel knowing you almost killed yourself to save this very demon - only to be hurt by this demon again.

Wherever Lucifer goes, his brothers tend to follow. He's the pillar holding the brothers together. Solomon knows the only way to keep Lucifer and some of his equally volatile brothers , he simply needs a pact with him.

What better way to ensure Humanity's safety, especially your safety, than to control the most probable cause of chaos?

But because he couldn't do that, so instead he started MC to be stronger in Magic, fortifying the defense on MC. Making sure MC can make the pacts to protect themself and humanity along with Solomon.

But still he knows, you're too kind for your own good and you don't have a heart cruel enough to give up on the demon brothers no matter what they do to you, so he still hopes to make the pacts himself so he can do what's necessary when things get worse.

.....

Solomon's Wrath and Request

Can you imagine how Solomon might have felt in the timeline where his MC was killed? The growing rage and guilt that it all happened so far away where he couldn't be there to save you? Barbatos had to merge the timelines for a reason.

Now imagine him seeing it all happen again, the fear in your eyes, your body frozen never even attempting to save yourself because you don't want to hurt the demons. But this time he's here - and he won't let it happen.

Do you know how much rage must bubble under his skin to reach up to this throat and peek through his never faltering smile?

The reason he begs and pleads you to choose humanity over the demons, it's only to make sure you're not caught in the wrong side of the war.

Of course he manipulates demons into pacts and acts shady around them, because look what happened to MC when all they did was be righteous, helping the brothers them the right way.

[daeificatio]

the boat vibes are atrocious | byleth(m) & arval - team jugdral

Closed starter for @centrifugalcycle The change of scenery didn’t quite phase him. Byleth never considered himself having roots anywhere- his home was wherever he was inhabiting at the given moment, where he could get safe shelter and food. Or…well, where his father was. That was home too. Which was why when they were given a mission to go to a faraway land and had to get there by boat, Byleth wasn’t particularly worried about it. 

If anything he was just a tiny bit disappointed that it was a bit hard to fish in the deck considering the ship’s height. Oh well.

But as one of the teachers in charge of this group, he had to make sure the students themselves were doing okay, particularly in his case where Byleth had no specific class of his own and therefore had to be able to offer support and aid to anyone who decided to reach out to him. 

He let out a quiet sigh, sitting one one of the wooden crates at the deck and watching the scenery. Sadly he didn’t have much to bring to this mission aside from his best steel sword and his knowledge of healing spells…but hopefully that could be enough to keep the students safe.

In fact, one was nearby. A very specific one, considering the less-than-pleased reaction from the girl in his mind. Byleth merely turned around to face whoever was there.

It was one he spotted around the other kids of the red house- Black Eagles. Really pale skin, white hair, some odd markings on their face and piercing, wide crimson eyes. Something about that student’s gaze and presence bothered the girl in his mind profoundly, though it didn’t resonate to Byleth himself with the same intensity. It was just a kid. A short one at that.

“Do you need anything?” He started- but then stopped himself, imagining if that approach was perhaps a bit too blunt. Was the student feeling sick? He had seen some students and faculty not taking the boat trip very well earlier.

A pause. Byleth offered a thumbs up?  “Everything ok?” Was that…friendly enough? The concept was still so very foreign to him.

[halucynator]

HI! I LOVE UR WORK SO SO MUCH!! can I ask for a Theodore nott x fem! reader and they’re best friends but they’ve been in love forever but haven’t admitted it and it’s a slowburn and whenever the reader picks her hangnails bc she needs to fidget he always holds her hands and she gets really really overwhelmed on the first week back to Hogwarts and is really stressed and helps her calm down and handle her feelings and anxiety? (You definitely don’t have to write this but if you can could you write it asap? I really need some comfort tbh)

Unspoken Bonds

Hey! Thank you! I'm sorry that this is late x hope this is to your liking. I had this one on the back burner for a while (i wrote this for fun a while back bbut I think if fits your request xx) but it was all in third person so there might be some places where her/ y/n is written instead of you xx sorry about that x not proof read.

Pairing: fem!reader x Theodore Nott

Warnings: kissing, tooth rotting fluff, that's it lmk if I missed any xx

Summary: Theo and you had been best friends since the time you accidentally bumped into him on the Hogwarts Express. However, lately you had developed something more than just friendship. You didn't realise that until it was too late though.

Theodore Nott and you had been inseparable ever since your first year at Hogwarts. You shared everything from laughter to secrets, your friendship growing stronger with each passing year. Yet, behind both of your smiles and casual banter, there was a truth neither of you dared to acknowledge - the depth of your feelings for each other.

As the summer break came to an end, the air was thick with excitement and anticipation. The first week back at Hogwarts arrived, and with it, a whirlwind of emotions. You found yourself fidgeting with your hangnails more than ever, a sign that your anxiety was creeping in.

One afternoon, in the Slytherin common room, Theodore noticed your anxious behavior. Without a word, he gently took your hands in his, stopping you from picking at your hangnails. His touch was warm and comforting, grounding you in the moment.

"You don't have to hide how you're feeling," he said softly, his dark eyes meeting yours. "I'm here for you, always."

You felt a rush of emotions as Theodore held your hands. It was as though he could sense your worries and anxieties without you even saying a word. His presence alone was enough to calm your racing heart and make it race at the same time.

Days turned into weeks, and the weight of the feelings began to feel heavier. You found yourself lost in your thoughts, wondering if Theodore felt the same way. Each stolen glance, each shared smile, only added to your confusion.

With a grateful smile, you nodded. It was in these quiet moments that your unspoken bond grew stronger, silently weaving the threads of your emotions together.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊*•̩̩͙

One evening, as you were stargazing in the astronomy tower with Theo, your fidgeting grew more prominent. Theodore gently caught her hand, his touch grounding her once again.

"You're not alone in this, you know," he said, his voice steady and reassuring.

"I'm just afraid of losing what we have if I-" You replied.

Your sentence , however, was cut short as you felt Theodore's grip on your hand tighten, his expression filled with understanding.

Theodore and your relationship was a slow burn, a gradual unfolding of emotions that had been buried for years. Late-night conversations turned from light-hearted to deep and meaningful. You discovered each other's dreams, fears, and insecurities, building a foundation of trust that no one could crush.

"Y/N, you're my best friend. Nothing could change that, no matter what happens." He stated

As you stood in the tower, the sun setting in the distance, the weight of your hidden feelings began to lift. In that moment, you shared a promise - an unspoken vow to always be together.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊*•̩

One autumn day, as the leaves turned to gold and the air grew crisp, you finally found the courage to admit your feelings. "Theo, I've loved you for so long," you whispered, your heart pounding.

Theodore's eyes held a mixture of surprise and relief. "I've loved you too, Y/N. More than I ever knew how to say."

You slammed your lips against his, the euphoric feeling making you complete. It was all your ever wanted. All you'd ever dreamt about.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊*•̩̩͙

fin

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it x have a nice day love ❤

[yearningaces]

VALENTINES

if it isn't to late

Could I get a frankenstein type of monster with the prompt being first words

LSJSJJWQ

Honestly, I really enjoy the creator and creation vibes that Frankenstein has, however I always loathed the OG story how much of a coward Frankenstein actually was when faced with his creation

So here's what I'm gonna do. This is a new character, I'm gonna do this little blurb then write more for him when I'm not super busy with work 👍

Disclaimer: reader is briefly referred to in masculine terms

"It's abhorrent to the laws of nature, they said" your voice echoes across the vast lab you've built but by bit over the years, in an abandoned castle no less.

"His ideas are that of being so repugnant as to stir up positive antagonism!" Steadily your voice grows as you lug the newly claimed body parts across the tile flooring, the stench of rot soon to be scrubbed clean from the limbs as they're positioned just so on the metal table where your prize lies dormant.

Aeneas

The abomination of body parts dug fresh from graves towns near and far from your lab. Despite the creatures nightmarish beginnings, how you adored it already. "Hello, my sweet," you coo softly, peering down at the breathtakingly beautiful creature you've crafted so lovingly with your own two hands.

Placing down its right arm with a heave, you line it up to the creature's shoulder as you babble absentmindedly. "Took half a fortnight to find an arm that matches your demeanor, dear Aeneas, but when the butcher was buried I knew his arms would be strong enough, bulky enough to match your other arm perfectly."

With a curved needle and thread you'd received as gift for your hard work, you placed the severed arm carefully against the stump of its shoulder you began to stitch, carefully, slowly, maybe twice as many stitches than normal but the thread was tricky. It was as delicate as a spiders web, and yet stronger than steel cable. "And think, my dear Aeneas all of this possible because I aided a trapped fairy in her escape! Now I've this spool of thread that she said would bring you to life!"

You continue your work for hours, stitching the last limbs while talking mindlessly to the body You've created piece by piece.

Finally, after the final stitch, you let out a yawn. "Well, that will be done. Yet tonight I must sleep. We will continue this in the morning, Aeneas." With a pat to the hip of Aeneas, you leave the room.

You don't notice the thread glowing a faint golden light. You don't notice the body you'd stitched together take its first breath with closed eyes.

When you wake in the morning, returning to the lab with a slip in your step, you do notice something that sends your heart into a frenzy.

"AENEAS!!" There is no body on the metal table. No corpse, or body parts, no blood, no trace of the creature. You panic, rushing into the lab to see if you can find any trace of your beloved creation, scrambling around until-

One massive hand grips the back of your collar, stopping you in place. "H... Hello... my s- ... Sweet."

The broken voice that sounds like a beast having eaten a mouth full of gravel isn't what gets your attention first. It's the greeting... The same one you've always greeted Aeneas with, even if unintentionally so.

Slowly you turn and look up. It's eyes aren't the nice hazel eyes you scooped out of the hunter you found one day roaming the forest, they're bright gold and glowing just slightly.

The horror and the worry melts in an instant as you turn properly and reach both hands up to Aeneas's face with a bright grin. You note how confused Aeneas seems, peering down at you with a confused innocence as he mimics what he must have heard the most. "Hello, my sweet," you repeat.

And for a fascinating and heartwarming moment, this beautifully horrifying being you've crafted attempts to smile by muscle memory alone, closing its eyes slowly and leaning forward into your hands just enough with a strange rumbling resonating from it.

How sweet.

[untoldreader]

Entangled Hearts

Wanda Maximoff x Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary

The bond between Wanda, Natasha, and Y/N deepens, igniting a passionate and complex love triangle. Their hearts become entangled in a web of desire, leaving them torn between their feelings and the consequences that lie in wait

Warnings

none?

Tag list

@nayarianna1302 @alexawynters @tigerlillyruiz

Chapter 3: Entangled Hearts

As our journey continued, the bond between Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, and I grew stronger with each passing day. We found ourselves entangled in a web of emotions, navigating the complexities of our evolving relationships.

One evening, we gathered in Wanda's cozy apartment, seeking solace in each other's company. The room was filled with a mixture of anticipation and unspoken desires. We knew that the time had come to address the growing feelings that simmered beneath the surface.

"I can't deny the depth of my emotions for both of you," I admitted, my voice filled with vulnerability. "Wanda, your warmth and compassion draw me in. Natasha, your enigmatic allure captivates me. I feel torn, caught between two extraordinary women."

Wanda reached out, her hand gently resting on mine. "Y/N, we understand the complexity of your feelings," she said, her eyes filled with empathy. "We, too, have found ourselves navigating this intricate dance of love and desire. It's not an easy path, but we're in this together."

Natasha nodded in agreement, her expression a mix of understanding and longing. "Y/N, your presence in our lives has awakened feelings I thought were long buried," she confessed. "But we must tread carefully, for love can be both beautiful and destructive. We need to find balance."

The weight of their words settled upon me, and I realized the challenges that lay ahead. Love had the power to heal and destroy, to bind and break. We had to navigate the delicate balance of our hearts while honoring the trust and respect that existed between us.

Days turned into weeks as we explored the depths of our emotions. We laughed, we cried, and we shared moments of intimacy that transcended the physical realm. Our love triangle defied conventional norms, and we forged a unique connection that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Yet, shadows loomed over our budding relationship—shadows of our pasts and the secrets we carried. We knew that in order to move forward, we had to confront the haunting whispers of desire and the lingering doubts that threatened to tear us apart.

"It's time we face the truth," Wanda said, her voice filled with determination. "We cannot build a future on a foundation of lies and unspoken secrets. We owe it to ourselves and to each other to be honest."

Natasha nodded in agreement, her gaze unwavering. "We must trust that our love can withstand the revelations that lie ahead," she added. "Only by embracing the truth can we truly find the happiness we all deserve."

With renewed resolve, we embarked on a journey of introspection and revelation. We bared our souls, unveiling the hidden corners of our pasts and the fears that held us captive. It was a painful process, but it also brought us closer, strengthening the threads that bound our hearts together.

≈========================≈

Chapter 3 marked a pivotal moment in our story. Through heartfelt conversations, we acknowledged the complexity of our emotions and the challenges we faced. We recognized the importance of trust, honesty, and confronting our pasts as we sought to find balance and forge a path forward. Our hearts were entangled, and we would navigate this love triangle with open hearts and unwavering determination.

[daeificatio]

There was no use in wallowing in their own misery. Byleth wasn’t trying to play the role of a cold and unfeeling teacher, after all worry and feelings of disappointment in his own lackluster performance in failing to protect his companions did bite at his ankles, but right now they needed to focus on moving forward as their plate was impossibly full with problems. They had their original mission- to put a stop on this whole matter involving the kidnapping of children, they needed to retrieve their lost companions, and they needed to survive and move on.

Thankfully Farina and Hilda had offered to act as lookouts for them, but their situation was still...at the very least, extremely complicated. “I used to live as a nomad with a mercenary band.” He decided to keep to his survival knowledge. Unarmed, but not entirely helpless. “I know how to forage and hunt for food, and also how to make shelter. It’s nothing comfortable but it keeps you safe and alive.”

They’d have to cross a large forest, so. Colla had mentioned the presence of wolves which…was a problem, but a manageable one. Unless this land had some enhanced monstrous wolves, Byleth knew how to subdue one if he absolutely needed to. “I don’t have my heal tome with me but I know how to patch up stuff. Traditional medicine.” The teacher looked around, eyes focused on the foliage, before he paused and looked down for a moment.

“...it would be nice if we crafted some stuff to use as weapons. Thinking about wolves and other wild animals out there.” The nighttime would have them especially vulnerable.

“Unless you know how to stone a thing to death, a sharp stick helps a lot.”

yeah we're walking, keep scrolling

[ninjassawthroughmyassasination]

Fragments of eternity

Tw:angst, death, implied suicide

It had been a year since you first met Zhongli, and your life had taken a surreal turn. From a simple wanderer, you found yourself entangled in the mysteries of Liyue and the ancient history surrounding the Geo Archon. In Zhongli, you discovered a serene and wise companion, someone who had witnessed countless eras come and go, yet remained as enigmatic as the stars above.

Your bond with Zhongli grew stronger with every passing day, but there was a persistent ache in your heart. You knew his true identity, the Rex Lapis of old, and the heavy burden he bore as the Geo Archon. Despite his calm demeanor, you sensed a profound sorrow hidden behind those amber eyes. He would often withdraw into his thoughts, leaving you feeling like an outsider gazing into a world you could never truly understand.

One night, under the shimmering moonlight, you found Zhongli standing alone on the Jade Chamber's balcony. The sight of him, an immortal figure surveying a world he could never truly be a part of, tugged at your heartstrings. You approached him cautiously, as if afraid to shatter the fragile silence enveloping him.

"Zhongli," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rustling of the wind.

He turned to face you, his features composed but distant. "Is something troubling you, my dear?"

You hesitated, feeling the weight of your emotions threatening to overflow. "It's... it's you, Zhongli. You seem so distant sometimes, as if there's a part of you that you keep locked away from me."

He sighed softly, his eyes shifting towards the horizon. "I cannot escape my past, nor the responsibilities that come with it. I have lived for thousands of years, witnessing the rise and fall of nations, only to watch them fade like sand in the wind. It is a burden I must carry, for I am the Geo Archon, and my duty lies with Liyue."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you clenched your fists to steady yourself. "But what about us? What about me?" you choked out, the pain of your heartache consuming you.

Zhongli's expression softened, and he stepped closer, reaching out to wipe away a tear that escaped your eye. "You are dear to me, more than you can imagine," he murmured, his voice filled with melancholy. "But my life is a tapestry of fragments, woven through time. The threads of eternity are beyond mortal comprehension, and it is not something I can easily share."

You felt the gulf between your mortal existence and his timeless being widening, and the ache in your heart intensified. "I don't want to lose you," you whispered, your voice trembling.

He pulled you into a tender embrace, holding you tightly against his chest. "And you won't," he reassured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But you must understand that my path is not an easy one. I have seen countless companions pass through my life, and each one leaves a mark on my heart."

You clung to him, your tears staining his robes as you tried to hold onto the fleeting moments. "Then promise me you won't forget me," you pleaded, afraid that your memories would become mere echoes in the vastness of time.

"I could never forget you," Zhongli replied, his voice gentle and sincere. "You are a treasured fragment in the mosaic of my existence, and I will cherish every moment we share."

But as the days passed, the distance between you and Zhongli only seemed to grow. The weight of his eternity and the responsibility he bore became more apparent, and you found yourself feeling increasingly lost in a world where you were merely a transient presence.

In the end, you realized that loving an immortal being was a bittersweet curse, for while you cherished the moments you spent together, you could not help but wonder if your love was destined to be just another fragment in his endless tapestry of memories.

And so, you held onto the memories of him, like stars shining in the night sky, a reminder of the love you once shared, even if it felt like he was slipping through your fingers like grains of sand.

In your quest to understand Zhongli better, you turned to the history books, the ancient texts, and the legends of Liyue. You searched for clues about his past, hoping to find a way to bridge the gap between your mortal life and his immortal existence. But the more you delved into the past, the more you realized that some things were meant to remain shrouded in mystery.

Despite your love for Zhongli, the pain of feeling like an outsider in his world was too much to bear. There were days when he would be distant, lost in the weight of his memories, leaving you feeling like an afterthought in the grand tapestry of his existence.

One particularly difficult evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you found yourself wandering aimlessly through the streets of Liyue Harbor. Your heart was heavy with unspoken words, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were slowly losing him.

As you reached the harbor's edge, you looked out at the vast sea, its waves crashing against the rocks below. The world around you seemed to blur, mirroring the tumultuous emotions within. And then, without warning, a strong gust of wind tugged at your clothes, pulling you towards the water's edge.

For a moment, you entertained the thought of letting go, of surrendering to the unyielding sea, as if hoping that such an act would make Zhongli realize how much you were hurting. But just as you were about to take that fateful step, a pair of warm, steady hands grasped your own, pulling you back from the precipice.

Zhongli stood there, his eyes filled with worry and a pain you had not seen before. "Do not leave me," he pleaded, his voice breaking. "I cannot bear to see you hurt, but my nature is not one that can be easily changed. My existence spans millennia, and I cannot escape the burden it brings."

You looked at him, tears streaming down your cheeks, your heart torn between love and the ache of feeling like a mere fragment in his life. "I love you, Zhongli," you confessed, your voice trembling. "But I don't know if I can continue like this, feeling like I'm always on the periphery of your world."

He pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "I never wanted to cause you pain," he murmured, his voice laced with regret. "But I cannot give up my eternity, just as you cannot give up your mortality."

In that moment, you realized the truth in his words. Your paths were destined to be intertwined, but not fully merged. You were two souls, bound by a love that transcended time, but ultimately confined by the limitations of your existence.

With a heavy heart, you made a difficult decision. "I need time, Zhongli," you said softly, pulling away from his embrace. "Time to figure out what I want, and time to heal."

He nodded, understanding the weight of your words. "I will give you all the time you need."

And you were given time, but it was in vain. The wounds were already deep, and it seems with time the world allowed you to let go. And so you did.

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