"With a pen, I write the stories of my mind, full of hope and imagination"
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Note • reason been that I would like it make it on my own pace and I always have new ideas for WIP that it stacking up right now.
Hi, you may all call me snowflake or xue hua. I'm just your usual author writing for fun and on my free time. I'm a very shy person and I get easily nervous but I love to become friends with you guys one day!
Honkai star rail (hsr) ,Jujutsu Kaisen (jjk) , Gachiakuta, Genshin Impact and more
⋆˙⟡ Now playing • Genshin Impact
⋆˙⟡ Current hyperfixetion • Witch hat atelier especially Qifrey
𐔌 ﹒ Working on. 10+ NEW WIPS
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Description: Qifrey thoughts about his two stars. Always together spinning around each other, sharing the same space. Oh how he love both his stars he wish to have in his hands but sadly with a tree impeding him to voice his feeling he only could ever watch in the sideline.
All of this is through the eye of Qifrey
Warning: OOC, bad grammar, not prof-reader,mediocre trying to be poetic, a little angst, astrology concepts that may have some untrue (guys don't come at me if I get it wrong, I'm no scientist).
──── 𐙚 ────
You both came in his life like a pair of shooting stars—unexpected and bright.Changing the course of his life forever, shining your glow and brightening his dark gloomy sky.
That day you both save him from almost drowning mark the beginning of something he still couldn't name in the beginning. He just knew that these two were annoying he never knew that these two 'annoying' will make such a big impact in the future.
Pair of stars
orbiting each other
like a dance in the night sky.
I watch from afar with a heavy heart.
Born together,
sharing the same sky,
they look like a single light,
shining so brightly
that it colored my world.
How can I reach you
when I'm so far?
My two binary stars,
forever in a dance.
Among the sea full of stars,
only they catch my attention,
drawn by a pull I cannot explain.
I watch with bated breath,
a fluttering feeling in my heart,
as you both look at me
with so much love
that I cannot accept.
Will you both forgive me for what I have done
if you find out the truth?
My two binary stars,
who make up my world,
please forgive me.
"Qifrey…."
"Qifrey to Earth…."
"Hey Qifrey…"
"QIFREY!"
The mention name, jolted at the call of his name. Looking up he see his two best friends with worry in their eyes "Hey Qifrey you sure you okay?" your voiced.
You all were outside with the girls who are running around playing tag, after been coup on the atelier in their study the past days. Not only that it was a quiet a lovely day, sun out not the kind that would be to hot but just warm enough to be enjoy without feeling overheat, blade of grass so vibrant it paint the earth, flowers here and there like splotches of paint in a canvas.
While he girls run around Qifrey, Olruggio and you were just sitting on the ground keeping an eye on them. Till you notice how Qifrey seem to be in a trance.
"You seen to be distracted are you sure your okay?" you asked worry for you other lover not-lover, you don't understand why you couldn't called him lover but respected his decision
"You know that you can trust us if you are feeling unwell" Olruggio try to recommend.
Qifrey could only feel a pang of guilt at his two best friends "No need, really I'm fine" he give them a smile hoping that they don't notice how it doesn't reach his eye fully, they don't see how he clutch the blade of grass behind him, hoping they don't see how much he is holding back.
"If you say so…"
"Master (name) , Master Olly! come join us!"
One of the girls shout. Before you could tell the girls that you were a little busy, Qifrey interrupt.
"the girls are calling you both, go on join them" he point to the girls, just a little far waiting for you both.
"But-"
"It okay, really"
"…fine but please talk to us when you are ready" Olruggio gruff before coming to your side and give you a kiss on the cheek as a reassurance when you were still on the fence of leaving Qifrey alone.
"Come on love. let join the girls. They are getting a little restless waiting"
"alright"
Before you leave, you gave a kiss on Qifrey forehead before joining the girls hand in hand with Olly.
He feel a flutter on his heart but also a pang of guilt. It been years since you all have gone on a complicated relationship, Qifrey wouldn't let both of you called him lover almost as if he wasn't ready or somthing, so a situation-ship was born.
Olruggio and you are a couple and while Qifrey is your guys partner never lover even if both of you guys want to, but that didn't stop both from showing him affection, kiss on the forehead when he is lying down, a kiss on the cheek when he goes out, contraption and trinkets gifted to him, taking care of the house work and so on.
Qifrey never explain to you both because he didn't want to worry you and the thought of him been just a partner never lover was enough to subside the grow of the silverwood tree inside him.
He is glad for both of you coming to his bleak life and he is guilty for making everything difficult.
Among the many stars in the night sky,
did you know
none are born alone?
Pairs, groups, or clusters—
they have someone beside them,
walking the same path,
sharing the same laughter,
and sharing the same sky.
They are never lonely.
You can see many,
and maybe,
you will see a group of three—
a triple star system.
──── 𐙚 ────
Feeling poetic but also frying my brain 🧠 during it.
Sometimes at night I like to watch videos while I write but I get so sidetracked when I watch interesting topic.
Like crime scenes documentaries, now I don't live in the USA but their crime scene are so interesting. Sometimes I wonder what goes in the head of a murderer...is that to creppy?
Or another topic I like to see is about influencer insanity by Hannah Alonso. I don't really use Tik Tok or Instagram but I'm just so curious about humans...
Qifrey and Olruggio run a daycare center and you’re taking over drop-offs and pick-ups in place of Coco’s parents because they’re so busy at work.
wc:3.9k
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The following Tuesday, the daycare closed an hour earlier than usual. Every month, Qifrey and Olruggio stayed after for staff training, toy sanitizing, and lesson planning. Most parents had picked up their children before five. Most.
“I’m so sorry.” You hurried through the front door, still in your work clothes, your tote slipping off one shoulder. “My meeting ran over.”
Olruggio looked up from where he was stacking picture books. “It’s alright.”
“Coco?”
He pointed toward the reading corner. “Still awake.”
You followed his gaze. Coco was curled beneath a blanket on one of the beanbags, quietly listening as Qifrey finished reading a picture book about a bear looking for the moon. There weren’t any other children left.
“…And when the little bear finally looked up,” Qifrey read softly, “he realized the moon had been following him all along.” He closed the book. “The end.”
Coco yawned so widely you thought her jaw might fall off. “Again tomorrow?”
“If you’d like.”
“M’kay…”
Within seconds, she was asleep, cheek pressed against the beanbag, still hugging the stuffed rabbit she’d insisted on bringing that morning. You smile.
“She fought sleep all afternoon, didn’t she?”
Qifrey laughed under his breath. “For nearly an hour.”
“I figured.” You slipped off your shoes before walking onto the reading rug, careful not to wake Coco. “I’ll carry her.”
“I’ve got her.” His voice was quiet enough that you almost missed it.
Before you could protest, Qifrey bent down with practiced ease. One arm slid beneath Coco’s knees. The other supported her back. She barely stirred as he lifted her. Instead, she instinctively nestled closer, her tiny fingers clutching the front of his sweater.
Your heart squeezed. “…She’s gotten heavy.”
“A little.”
“But she still thinks she’s tiny.”
“I don’t think children ever notice when they grow.” He looked down at the sleeping girl in his arms with a smile so gentle it almost didn’t seem real. “They just keep trusting that someone will pick them up.”
The words settled somewhere deep inside your chest. You weren’t looking at Coco anymore. You were looking at him. At the tenderness in his eyes. The patience in every careful movement. The way he instinctively adjusted his hold when Coco shifted in her sleep. It wasn’t performative. No parents were watching. No children were awake to praise him. This was simply who he was. He caught you staring.
“…What?”
You blinked, suddenly realizing you’d been watching him for far too long. Heat crept into your cheeks.
“I was just…” You laughed softly, almost embarrassed by your own honesty. “…thinking how nice.”
His expression softened. “Coco?”
“You.”
He looked genuinely surprised. “Me?”
“You make every child here feel like they’re the most important person in the world.” A quiet silence followed. “I’ve seen how exhausted you are by the end of the day. I’ve seen you stay late because one child didn’t want to go home crying. You remember everyone’s birthdays. You know whose sandwiches need to be cut into triangles and who hates crusts.”
You smiled, though there was something quieter in it now. “And somehow…you still have enough kindness left over for everyone.”
Qifrey couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked at him the way you were now. Not with admiration. Not exactly. It was warmer. More personal. His voice came out softer than intended.
“…Thank you.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The daycare was unusually quiet. Outside, rain tapped gently against the windows. The fluorescent lights had been switched off, leaving only the warm lamps in the reading corner glowing softly around you.
“You know…” Qifrey said after a while, “when I first met you…”
You groaned. “Please don’t say ‘Coco’s mother.’”
He laughed, a genuine laugh that made his shoulders shake.
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You were thinking it.”
“I was.”
You nudged his arm lightly with your shoulder. “You’re terrible.”
“I’ve been told.” He looked down at Coco, still sleeping peacefully in his arms. Then back at you. “I’m glad it was you.”
You frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”
“I’m glad…” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “…that you’re the one bringing Coco every day.”
Heat crept up your cheeks.
“Otherwise…” A small, almost shy smile crossed his face. “…I don’t think I would’ve had the chance to get to know you.”
For just a second, the world seemed to still. The rain. The humming lights. Everything. You couldn’t find a witty reply. All you managed was a quiet,
“…I’m glad too.”
Neither of you noticed Olruggio standing just outside the reading room doorway with a box of freshly sanitized toys. He took one look at the way the two of you were smiling at each other. At the fact that neither of you seemed eager to break the silence. He quietly backed away.
“…I’ll put these away later,” he muttered to himself. “They’ve earned five more minutes.”
Saturday mornings were sacred. No alarm. No work. No rushing Coco through breakfast. Just coffee. At least that had been the plan. Instead, you found yourself staring into your pantry.
"...I'm out of coffee." You sighed dramatically.
This was a tragedy. Twenty minutes later, you found yourself wandering through the neighborhood grocery store with a shopping basket hanging from your arm. Coffee. Bread. Eggs. Cat food. You paused in front of the produce section, comparing two bags of oranges.
"They're sweeter this time of year."
The familiar voice made you look up. "...Qifrey?"
He looked just as surprised. "[name]?"
For a moment, the two of you simply stared at each other. Then you both laughed.
"I didn't expect to see you here."
"I could say the same."
He held up the basket in his hand. Inside sat bread, milk, pasta...and an alarming amount of strawberries. You raised an eyebrow.
"Planning on opening a fruit stand?"
He glanced into his basket. "Oh...I may have bought more than I intended."
"How many cartons is that?"
He counted. "...Four."
"Qifrey."
"They were on sale."
You laughed. "I'll pretend that's a reasonable excuse."
"It sounded reasonable in my head."
"I'm sure it did."
He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. Without the daycare around him, he looked... different. No cardigan with finger paint on the sleeves. No children's drawings tucked into his pocket. Just a cream knit sweater with the sleeves pushed to his forearms and a pair of jeans. It was strange. You'd only ever seen him at work. Now he looked more relaxed. More like someone your own age.
"You live around here?" you asked.
"A few blocks over." He gestured vaguely toward the west. "What about you?"
"The apartment complex near the park."
"Oh." His face brightened. "That's only about a ten minute walk."
"It is."
Neither of you seemed eager to continue shopping. Instead, you drifted down the same aisle together.
"So," you said, placing a loaf of bread into your basket, "what do daycare teachers do on weekends?"
"We recover."
"I believe that."
"And lesson plan."
"Makes sense."
"And..." He hesitated. "...I read."
"What kind of books?"
"Mostly fantasy."
"I should've guessed."
"You?"
"I've been trying to get back into reading."
"Oh?"
"I keep getting distracted."
"By Coco?"
You laughed. "Mostly but I don't mind."
He smiled softly. "I didn't think you would."
The conversation flowed surprisingly easily. Without children interrupting every thirty seconds, without parents waiting behind you, without someone shouting that glitter had somehow ended up inside the fish tank...It was just easy. Comfortable. As you rounded the corner into the coffee aisle, you reached for the last bag of your favorite blend. At the exact same moment, another hand reached for it. Your fingers brushed with Qifrey's Barely for a second. Both of you froze.
"Oh."
"Sorry." You pulled your hand back immediately.
"No, you go ahead."
"No, it's okay."
"You saw it first."
"So did you."
You both laughed awkwardly. Qifrey picked up the bag and held it out to you.
"You mentioned once that mornings don't start until you've had coffee."
Your eyebrows lifted. "...You remembered that?"
He blinked. "...Of course."
The answer came so naturally that he didn't seem to realize what he'd admitted. Your heart fluttered.
"I didn't think you'd remember something so small."
His expression softened. "I remember a lot of small things."
For just a moment, neither of you spoke. You accepted the bag from him. Your fingers brushed again. Neither of you moved away quite as quickly this time.
"...Thank you."
"You're welcome."
A comfortable silence settled between you as you continued down the aisle. Then Qifrey glanced into your basket.
"You have cats."
You looked up.
"The food."
"Oh." You smiled.
"Two cats. One black one white. They actually remind me of you and Mr.Olruggio."
He laughs. "I'd like to meet them someday." The words slipped out before he could stop them. His eyes widened.
"...If..." He cleared his throat. "...if that's okay."
You couldn't help but smile. "I think they'd like you."
He smiled back.
"...I hope so."
Neither of them noticed the faint blush spreading across the other's face as they continued shopping side by side, neither in any particular hurry to reach the checkout anymore.
Monday arrived far too quickly. Qifrey had spent the entire weekend replaying your chance encounter at the grocery store.
"I'd like to meet them someday."
Why had he said that? Who said things like that? He buried his face in his hands.
"...I'm hopeless."
Across the staff room, Olruggio didn't even look up from the weekly lesson plan.
"About time you figured it out."
"I wasn't talking to you."
"You were loud enough."
Qifrey sighed. "I think I made things awkward."
"You bought four cartons of strawberries and somehow that wasn't the awkward part."
Qifrey groaned. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do."
Olruggio finally looked up. "Ask her out."
Qifrey blinked. "...What?"
"You heard me."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that."
"What if she says no?"
"Then she says no."
"And if she says yes?"
Olruggio raised an eyebrow. "Then congratulations."
Qifrey stared at him. "...That sounds terrifying."
"It probably is."
The rest of the week passed in a blur. Every morning, you arrived with Coco. Every afternoon, you picked her up. Nothing changed. Except everything had changed. Now that Qifrey had decided to ask you out, he suddenly couldn't figure out how. Not while helping Coco zip up her jacket. Not while another parent waited behind you. Not while Tetia loudly announced she'd found a ladybug. The timing was never right. Friday afternoon arrived before he realized he'd run out of chances. The last child besides Coco had just gone home. Olruggio was in the back, disinfecting toys before closing. You arrived a few minutes later than usual.
"Sorry," you said, slightly out of breath. "Traffic."
"No need to apologize." Qifrey smiled. "Coco's been helping me water the plants."
You looked toward the windowsill. Half the plants looked perfectly watered. The other half looked as though they'd survived a hurricane.
"...I can see that."
"I'm helping!" Coco protested.
"You are." Qifrey laughed. "And you're doing an excellent job."
While Coco proudly showed you which plant she'd named "Sir Leafington," Qifrey felt his pulse begin to race.
*Now. *Before you leave. Just ask. You thanked Coco for her gardening expertise before helping her into her backpack.
"Ready to go?"
"Mhm!" She ran toward the front door. "I'll wait outside!"
"Coco—" The bell jingled as she disappeared onto the little fenced patio just outside the entrance.
You sighed fondly. "She'll be climbing the bench."
"I'll keep an eye on her."
For a moment, it was just the two of you. Qifrey swallowed.
"So..." You looked up.
"So?" He suddenly forgot every sentence he'd rehearsed. "I..." His fingers rubbed nervously at the back of his neck. "I was wondering...if you were free sometime."
You tilted your head. "Sometime?"
He nodded. "Outside of daycare."
There was a tiny pause. Then, very deliberately, he added,
"...As a date."
Silence. Not uncomfortable. Just unexpected. He immediately continued.
"You absolutely don't have to say yes. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable and if you'd rather we just stay—"
"I'd love to."
His words stopped. "...What?"
You smiled. "I'd love to."
"I..." He looked almost stunned. "You would?"
"I was beginning to think I'd have to ask you."
A soft laugh escaped him. "You were?"
"You've been looking like you wanted to say something all week."
"...Was I that obvious?"
You gave him a sympathetic smile. "Only a little."
He laughed again, this time at himself. "I spent three days trying to think of the perfect way to ask."
"And what did you settle on?"
He considered it. "...Panicking."
"It was very charming."
His cheeks warmed. "I'm glad you think so."
You glanced through the glass doors to where Coco was pressing her face against the fence, watching a butterfly with complete fascination.
"So...What did you have in mind?"
His expression brightened. "There's a little bookstore café a few neighborhoods over. They make wonderful tea and they have a resident cat that sleeps on the windowsill."
You smiled immediately. "You had me at 'cat.'"
He laughed. "Saturday?"
"Saturday."
"Two?"
"Two."
For a second, neither of you moved. Neither of you seemed quite ready for the conversation to end. Outside, Coco knocked gently on the glass.
"Auntie!"
You looked over. "I'm coming!" Turning back to Qifrey, you smiled.
"I'll see you tomorrow."
His smile was brighter than you'd ever seen it. "It's a date."
The words hung in the air after you left. Qifrey stood in the lobby for several seconds, staring at the closed door with an expression of complete disbelief. From somewhere in the back of the daycare, Olruggio called out,
"...She said yes, didn't she?"
Qifrey's grin only grew. "...She said yes."
"Took you long enough."
Qifrey laughed all the way to the supply room.
Saturday arrived with clear skies. Qifrey had changed his shirt three times.
"...This is ridiculous." He stared at his reflection. "It has finger paint on it," he muttered to himself before hanging it back up.
You spotted him before he spotted you. He stood outside the bookstore café with his hands tucked into his coat pockets, glancing down the street every few seconds. He looked...nervous. It was strangely endearing. You approached quietly.
"Waiting for someone?"
His head snapped up. The worry on his face vanished the instant he saw you.
"There you are."
"I hope I didn't keep you waiting."
"You didn't."
His smile came so effortlessly that it made your chest feel warm. "I just got here."
You looked at the clock above the café door. He had, very obviously, been there for at least fifteen minutes. You decided not to tease him. Not yet. The bookstore smelled of fresh coffee and old paper. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, illuminating towering shelves filled with novels. True to his word, a plump orange cat slept on the windowsill, completely unbothered by the customers around it.
"There he is," Qifrey whispered.
"You know him?"
"The owner calls him Marmalade."
You crouched beside the cat. "...Can I?"
"You'll receive his judgment shortly."
As though on cue, Marmalade lazily opened one eye. He looked at you. Looked at your outstretched hand. Then stood. Without hesitation, he stepped onto your lap. Qifrey laughed.
"I've never seen him do that."
"Really?"
"He usually ignores everyone."
You scratched gently beneath the cat's chin. "I think he has good taste."
"I think he does."
You looked up. "...Are you talking about me or the cat?"
"...Yes."
The answer escaped before he could stop it. His own eyes widened. You stared. Then smiled.
"I'll accept that answer."
His ears turned pink. Hours slipped by unnoticed. One conversation became another. Favorite books. Favorite movies. The worst meals either of you had ever attempted to cook. He admitted he once accidentally used salt instead of sugar while baking cookies for the daycare.
"They still ate them."
"They're children."
"They called them 'interesting.'"
You laughed so hard you had to set your teacup down. "They were trying to spare my feelings."
"I think they succeeded."
"I cried after they went home."
"You did not."
"I absolutely did not."
"Liar."
He laughed. "...Maybe a little."
It was easy. Scarily easy. Neither of you ever struggled to find something to say and when neither of you spoke... The silence wasn't awkward. It was comfortable. The kind shared between people who simply enjoyed existing in the same space. By late afternoon, you found yourselves wandering through the nearby botanical gardens. Flowers swayed gently in the breeze. Children chased butterflies across the grass. Qifrey slowed beside a small pond.
"I come here sometimes after work."
"You do?"
"When I need to think."
"It suits you."
He glanced over. "...What does?"
"This place."
"It's peaceful."
He stopped walking. "So are you."
You smiled softly. "I don't think anyone's ever called me peaceful."
"They should."
You looked away first. Not because you wanted to. Because if you kept looking at him...you were afraid he'd notice exactly what was written all over your face. As the sun dipped lower, the two of you found an empty bench overlooking the pond. For the first time all day, neither of you spoke. The silence settled around you like a warm blanket. Qifrey looked out over the water.
"...Can I tell you something?"
"Always."
He smiled faintly. "When I asked you out...I was terrified."
You laughed. "I noticed."
"I've never really..." He searched for the words. "...been good at this."
"What, dates?"
He nodded. "I was worried there'd be awkward silences."
"There weren't."
"I was worried we'd have nothing in common."
"We talked for six hours."
"I was worried..." He looked down at his hands. "...that you wouldn't like me once you got to know me outside of daycare."
Your heart clenched. You reached over before you could think better of it. Your hand rested lightly over his.
"I like you even more."
His breath stopped. You hadn't meant to say it aloud. But it was true. His fingers slowly turned beneath yours. Instead of pulling away, he gently intertwined them with your own. Tentatively. As though giving you every chance to let go. You didn't. His hand was warm. Larger than yours. It fit so naturally that it almost frightened you. He looked at your joined hands for a long moment. Then back at you.
"I think..." His voice was barely above a whisper. "...I'm starting to fall for you."
The confession hung between you, carried only by the breeze. You smiled, a smile so soft it made his heart ache.
"Starting?"
He laughed quietly. "I was trying not to scare you."
You squeezed his hand. "You won't."
You inched a little closer on the bench until your shoulders touched. The contact was featherlight and comfortable.
"I think..." you admitted, your eyes fixed on the rippling pond, "...I've been falling for you since the day I saw you carry a sleeping Coco without waking her."
He turned to look at you.
"And today..." You met his gaze. "...I realized I don't want this to be our only date."
His smile was breathtaking. "It doesn't have to be."
"No?"
He shook his head. "I'd like there to be a second."
"And a third?"
"If you'll have me."
"A fourth?"
"I was hoping for dozens."
Your eyes softened. "So was I."
Neither of you noticed the sun sinking below the trees or the families gradually leaving the gardens. All either of you could think about was how naturally your hands fit together and how, somewhere between books, tea, and six uninterrupted hours of conversation, you had both quietly fallen in love.
Monday evening found the daycare unusually quiet. The children had long since gone home. Construction paper had been put away. Tables wiped down. Tiny chairs stacked neatly against the wall. Qifrey was humming to himself as he finished locking the art cabinet. It had been two days since your date. Two days and somehow...Hhe still couldn't stop smiling.
"You've smiled at that cabinet three times."
Qifrey looked over. Olruggio was crossing the room with a box of sanitizing supplies balanced against one hip.
"I have not."
"You have."
"I was thinking."
"You looked like you were about to ask the cabinet out."
Qifrey laughed. "You're exaggerating."
"I wish I was."
Olruggio set the box down. His phone buzzed.
He pulled it from his pocket, reading the notification before letting out a quiet hum.
"Hm."
"What?"
"Alaira."
Qifrey paused. "Oh?"
"She's getting everyone together Friday."
"For drinks."
"Apparently she's tired of everyone disappearing into work."
Qifrey smiled. "That sounds like her."
Olruggio typed out a short reply. "She asked if I'd bring you."
There wasn't even a moment of hesitation. "I can't."
Olruggio looked up. "...You can't?"
Qifrey rubbed the back of his neck. "I already have plans."
"What plans?"
A smile, small but unmistakable,appeared on his face. "I'm seeing her."
Olruggio stared. "...Again?"
Qifrey nodded. "We're having dinner."
"...Dinner."
"And then she wanted to walk through the night market afterward."
Olruggio blinked once. Twice. "...You've got a second date."
"I do."
There was a beat of silence. Then another. Finally, Olruggio leaned back against the table and folded his arms. "...Well."
Qifrey laughed. "What?"
"I honestly didn't think you'd move this fast."
"I didn't either."
"It took you nearly two weeks just to ask her on the first one."
"I know."
"And now you're turning down drinks."
"I know."
"...For a woman."
Qifrey's smile softened. "...Yeah."
There was no embarrassment in his answer. No hesitation. Just quiet certainty. Olruggio noticed it immediately. Something had changed. Before, Qifrey had looked excited. Hopeful. Now he looked content. Like he'd found something worth protecting.
"...You really like her."
Qifrey was quiet for a moment. Then...
"I think..." He looked toward the daycare windows, where children's painted handprints still decorated the glass. "...I'm already past 'like.'"
Olruggio's eyebrows lifted. "...That serious?"
"I don't know what to call it." Qifrey laughed softly to himself. "I just know that whenever something happens...my first thought is that I want to tell her." He smiled to himself. "and every morning...I catch myself looking at the clock. Waiting for eight twenty eight."
The daycare fell quiet. Olruggio had known Qifrey for years. He'd seen him care deeply about countless people. About children. Friends. Neighbors. But this was different.
"...You're gone."
Qifrey blinked. "What?"
"Completely."
Qifrey opened his mouth to deny it. Then he thought about Saturday. About your laugh echoing through the bookstore. About your hand fitting into his. About the way you'd smiled when he'd asked for a second date. His denial never came.
A sheepish smile spread across his face. "...Maybe."
Olruggio let out a slow breath through his nose. "...Alaira is never going to let me hear the end of this."
Qifrey laughed. "You can tell her I'm sorry."
"I'll tell her you abandoned us."
"I have."
"You abandoned us for love."
"I don't know if I'd phrase it like that."
"I would."
The two men shared an easy laugh. Olruggio picked up the supply box again. "...Don't screw this up."
Qifrey looked genuinely offended. "I wasn't planning to."
"I'm serious."
"I know."
Olruggio studied him for a second before giving a single nod. "...Good."
Because despite all the teasing, despite the sarcasm, he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his oldest friend this happy. If anyone deserved a little happiness, it was Qifrey. As they switched off the lights and locked the daycare for the night, neither of them noticed Olruggio's phone vibrate again.
Alaira: So? Is Qifrey coming?
Olruggio glanced at the message before slipping the phone back into his pocket. A faint, amused smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
I'm noticing that my main masterlist under witch hat atelier is getting longer and longer...am I going to make a separate masterlist of this? Maybe but it going to be so tedious doing this on mobile.
Plus because I'm so hyperfixated on this show I have like 7 more WIP...
Description: Everything is okay. It should be but every time you where near your lover it was like the world became quiet, it sound so lovely and romantic doesn't it? then why do you have the feeling that something is deeply wrong. Is this really your Qifrey? You don't seem to remember some information like how and when did you ever became a couple? blinding headache seem to stop you from thinking again and Qifrey oh so caring will take care of everything for you as long as you are with him.
This is a continuation of Static and from this wonderful ask.
Warning: OOC, bad grammar, no proof-read, Stockholm syndrome, some yandere tendency, possessiveness, metaphors and a lot of symbolism.
──── 𐙚 ────
"NO PLEASE STOP!!"
"shh, everything will be okay love"
…
The morning sun spill through the curtain of your cold comforting room casing a golden glow everything it touch. The bed was so comforting that you didn't want to move from it but at last someone wanted you too.
"Good morning sleepy head"
You took a peak to see your handsome lover, already dress with those dreamy eye of his, white hair of impeccable color and soft to touch, you love running your finger through them they were like those of a brushbuddy fur, everything about him was beautiful and the way he act so caring to you just seal the deal of being the perfect partner.
"Good morning" you responded back still sleepy, your head was still a little cloudy. "Seem like someone doesn't wish to get out of bed" and he was right I mean there was nothing to do right? no apprentices, even thought you feel like there was suppose to, no one asking for witches help, making you weirded out, unknowing love to ask for help from witches then why are there no one knocking at you guys atelier. But no matter you love days that are slow, peaceful and quiet with you lover.
"I know how much you love to sleep love, but I made breakfast I wouldn't wish for it to get cold now and wish to be accompany with the sight of my beautiful lover" he grazed his finger through your cheek. when he put it like that how can you say no.
You try to stand up but a sudden feeling of weakness over came you. A pulsing headache that made you weak in the knees and fall to the ground if it wasn't for the help of your lover catching you in his arms.
"Whoa, you alright love?"
"Yeah, just feel weak for a moment"
At your words Qifrey eyes furrow you been feeling like this for some time now "I see, I'll make some tea for your headache. You been having a lot of them for some time now" You did? then why can't you remember…
Actually thinking about it you can't seem to remember what happen yesterday, you wonder why.
"Dear, are you listening to me?" the worry voice of Qifrey snap you out, looking up you see his single eye looking back at you but for a moment you swear to have seen his eye look at you almost calculating you in a cold manner before it disappear to a look of worry and warm eyes. Maybe you saw wrong? no matter this headaches must have been playing tricks on your mind and your perceptive of your eyes.
"Yeah, sorry. Let go eat breakfast. Your teas always seem to cure me"
You wonder why haven't you went to a doctor if you if this headache seem to be persisting but you digress Qifrey home remedy seem to always work somehow.
You both arrive to the kitchen where a hearty meal is, sweet and savory smell fill the air and you just notice how hungry you feel. It feel like you could eat a horse.
"Here, one headache be gone tea" Qifrey joked as he past you a cup "thank you love" you took it taking a sip before your face contorted to sour. How weird it taste more bitter than yesterday didn't you like to add some sweetener to it. You look at the cup, brown translucent still water of steep tea but somehow if you straiten your eyes you could see a faint shimmer of something like glitter, teas aren't suppose to be sparkly.
"Ah, I have forgotten you like to have your tea with a little honey isn't?" Qifrey voice catch your attention finding out what was in your tea. It not like he would poison it…right?
"No it okay, they say bitter is the best for medicine right?" you didn't want to bother and plus you wanted to keep him close. At your words Qifrey let out a laugh, he know you, you were the kind that will deal with it no matter what.
You smile back, you love seen him smile and hearing his laugh was like everything surrounding you dispensary and the only thing you hear was his voice in a trance, sometimes you still get that feeling in your stomach like a flutter. OH my you still get blushing bride on your stomach when you are near him.
"Of course you do" he said before taking a cup of coffee…coffee? "When did you like coffee?" you asked it was weird of him to drink it, in his words Qifrey called it the most bitter thing he ever drank when you were apprentices.
"Oh this? just feel like it. Anyway I have to go out today sweetheart" again? but didn't he went out yesterday? the tea must be working because you also recalled him leaving the day before that and the day before before…
"Again? but you just returned yesterday? you just needed to ask. why are they calling Qifrey a lot but never you?
"I know but this commission is important, I swear this will be the last one and you will have me all to yourself okay?" Qifrey wasn't someone to make promises he couldn't keep but you also didn't like it that he been going out more and more and you worry that he will burn out from how much he's taking commission.
"This is for our own good love, I'm doing this to get income for us. I'll buy the prettiest ring for you how about it?"
A RING?! has he been planning to propose?!
Your eyes widen, how you find out about it because you were feeling sad?! "A-a ring?!" your voice came out a little higher than you hope at least he didn't ridicule you he just smirk "Yes a ring, to symbolize or forever union wouldn't you like that?" Qifrey walks closer to you and give you a hug, it was warm and fill with his love.
"W-well if you say so…" you were bashful, you never thought this day would come for him to asked you to marry him. Don't get it wrong it not like you don't love him you actually do a lot but to marry so quick, you thought you would first have apprentices for some years and maybe the talk of marriage would come natural and of god you are feeling the fluter of flushing brides in your stomach again!
You actually love the idea, a ring to symbolize your eternal love…how romantic
"I knew you would love it, I'll be going now then" you snap out of your daydreaming to see Qifrey moving to the main door, cape in pristine condition and his pointed hat sitting upright on his head. How did he move so quickly from here to there did he move while you were daydreaming? How embarrassing! With just his words he was able to play you like a fiddle!
You quickly stand up o catch up to him at the door, you wanted to him a proper goodbye like a good partner should and seem like he was waiting for you because he was still standing by the door, hand on the handle and a smirk on his handsome face. "A-ah alright then. safe travels and come back before supper!" you give him a kiss in the corner of his mouth and loving the red color on his cheeks. You will never get tired of that face of his.
But looking closely…was his right eye was always pale?
"I'll be going, take care and remember never open anyone that isn't me okay dove?" and just like that he walks out closing the door in a soft click.
You never understood why he tell you to not answer the main door if it isn't him. Should a witch answer to anyone who look for them? but if Qifrey say so then it will be like he said.
No alone you stand in the atelier, rooms quiet like there was suppose to be someone else here, the chirping of birds seem to quiet for a moment and the air feel wrong, but how could it be it was always Qifrey and you and no one else.
No matter it nothing.
…
Sometime later after putting away the dishes you find yourself free time and you were incredibly bored, it almost feel like you feel like a sitting duck waiting for Qifrey return for his commission.
"I'm bored…" you voiced out, the sun was still high up and you already eat supper and Qifrey still haven't return yet, You try not to worry much, Qifrey was a capable man maybe he the commission was taking a little longer after all he did say it was important. Until a idea pop up.
"Where there a small library?" so you went to that small room, just like the name suggest it wasn't anything big just a small personal library with books Qifrey came back with just the usual that catch his eye. Dragons, tales of bygone eras, glyphs and a red book without a cover wait a what?
You stop to look at the weirdly place book, it was hidden behind others opening it up you see that the pages have been cut to have a small compartment inside.
Inside was another book a little smaller to fit "How weird why would there be other book inside another?" you took it out leaving the hollow book back to the shelf and walk to a near by armchair.
You sat comfortably before opening the book.
"what the…"
Inside there seem to be a log but the strange thing was that the way it was written "isn't that my handwriting?" you rub the writing feeling the imperfection of ink on it. The writing was so similar maybe it the same but you don't remember writing anything of this ever. You were curious so you begin to read it.
Day 25
Qifrey have to go out again, why is he going out a lot? The day before was the same and the day before before…
I'm a little lonely so I decided to begin writing in this small journal to past some time and to gather my thoughts so here we go.
Lately I been having some headache but with Qifrey tea it always seem to go away quickly, note to self thank Qifrey for it. Although I wonder why don't we go to the hospital in Kalhm since we are near but Qifrey say that he knows the best solution for me and I should always trust him.
Day 28
It came back that headache, at this point I'm just going to go to Kalhm by my self but every time I almost go Qifrey always seem to know when I wanna go and stir me from the main door stopping from me ever going outside. I'm sick of feeling like this.
I told Qifrey about it and he promise that he will get something more stronger so I didn't fight it. I hate fighting with him, he always tell be how soft I am. I just don't like seen him sad. Am I a bad person for not fighting back?
It seem like this headache have been persisting you for some time, you wonder what remedy did Qifrey find. So you turn to the next page hoping to see if maybe it could help you again but what you read just made you huff in annoyance.
Day 30
You know what he came back with for my headache? more tea. I'm tired and sick of drinking it and this time it ore bitter than last time!
Why did he brought me more tea? but I guest it help again I don't have any more headache.
Day 50
IT CAME BACK AGAIN! Maybe I should tell Qifrey to get me real medicine. I'll tell him tomorrow after he comes back.
Seriously how is this headache persisting it comes and go? you turn the next page and this time it stop your track.
Day 51
Qifrey….he isn't my Qifrey…
Qifrey eye placement is wrong! It suppose to be on his left eye not on the right and they are pale not like the pretty cerulean blue I love.
What do this past you mean? Qifrey the Qifrey in front of you isn't your Qifrey? You look the next pages and you could see how the writer handwriting becomes almost intelligible, splotches of ink mar the pages almost like they were running out of time, you could understand some of the word written though.
I don't know who this is, he has his face, act like him, voice is the same but I know in my heart he is not the real Qifrey. My real Qifrey.
Not only that I saw yesterday how he been putting something on my tea, I don't know what is but every time it always bitter and then my head cleared I should be glad but there is clearly something wrong. He's been poisoning us.
I have to escape, I can't stay here, but how?! He knows!!! He always know!!
"Dove where are you?" a familiar voice called out and this time a cold shiver went down your back. Looking up you see those pale eye of his that you now remember are not of your lover but of someone having the same face, voice and even act like him.
Your face contorted to one of fear, horror seep to your bone and your voice vanish. Seen that you didn't responded back his smile vanish and his eye went cold.
"Oh, have you find out?" his word was like a dagger, control and unwavering, how log have you been under the impression that you had a happy, quiet and romantic moment with this doppelganger?
"…You're not Qifrey…are you?"
"What make you believe that dove, I am Qifrey" it was almost mocking you and the till of his head just made it seem like he was having fun with you.
"No..No no no, NO YOU'RE NOT HIM!" you were spiraling now coming to the realization of this stranger right in front of you. The bitter tea, him drinking coffee, the repeated days of him going out just how long. You stand up abruptly backing away from him making th book fall to the ground in muted thump.
"I am him" he walks no stalk to you slowly, the Qifrey you knew was no longer your lover but that of a wolf stalking it prey and that prey is you. Your back hit the wall trapping you. H e was close so close that you could see his eye become like that of a void, lifeless.
"Why…" he began, his imposing figure trapping you "It not fair you love that broken man, I look like him, act like him, voice just like him, am I not enough?"
You gulp, throat drying up as he grazed your arm and interlacing your finger together, his hand was cold ad cense of his warm "I should of knew after all, you are a smart one. It was just a matter of how long it would take or you to find out" his words make your head spins. what does he mean?!
"oh you must be wondering what did I mean by that do you?~ this isn't the first time you try to escape you know but none the lest you lasted longer than the other time~" you were trembling so much that you wanted to snatch your hand away but he had a tight hold in it.
"Look I even brought a ring" he show the ring, it was a pretty thing, a silver band with vines wrap around it and on it center a pretty blue gem. It was so pretty that if he would of propose you would of accepted but now it almost feel like he was trying to shackle you.
"A ring to commemorate us in our big step together as a couple.Forever"
no no no NO
You try hard to get of his hold but he just let out a laugh "You can try to escape but my dear dove there will never he someone that can help you after all you will forever be mine~" he concluded ans he put the ring on your ring finger. There was tears running down your face, you don't want this. You want your real Qifrey back no this this stranger!
"Isn't it pretty?~" he show you your hand, ring glomming in the light, but you didn't responded back only hiccups came out of you. "Aw~ my pretty dove is sad now we can't have that can we? they say happy partner happy life isn't it?" from your teary eyes you could see his hand go through his cape before taking something out making your eye widen.
"no no NO PLEASE NO"
Right on his hand was a memory erasure spell, intricate design of black ink on his palm quire.
"Don't worry, once I erase this bad memory we will be back as a happy couple~"
Your vision was becoming hazy, your mind was shutting off but the last thing you could see was his aery smile as you begin to fall sideway before everything become dark.
Qifrey see your body go limp but before you could hit the ground he hold you in his arms. "There there my cute dove" he pet your hair, combing through your hair like if you were a wounded animal. "You must be so scared" he continue clearly enjoy it.
He was a wolf in sheep clothing.
At first his plan was to just used you after he kidnapped you under that man nose but as you continue living under the impression of been lover he to begin to fall in love. This love turn to obsession and he didn't want to ever part from you so he created his world for you, to keep you safe and sound and in his hold.
"I love you so much my dear dove~" he remember the many time you tr to escape and each time you were quicker to find out and that was so much fun. It was a waiting game of when.
The first time you find out because of his eye.
The second time because of the tea.
The third time because of the erasure spell.
and so and so. He may be a perfect replica of your lover but there are some things that he is unable to change like his eye. Plus he love playing with you. Now he has to burn that journal so you couldn't find out.
"I love you so so so much soon I'll take my other eye and be whole and be your one and only true love~"
…
You wake up to the sun spilling thought your curtain a new day right up ahead. "Good morning" a familiar voice so sweet greeted. "It morning already,,,?" you rub your eyes from the drowsiness before feeling something on your finger, looking at it you saw a pretty ring glimmering back at you when the sun hit.
"It a pretty ring isn't it dear wife/husband" the sound of the title made blushing brides flutter in your stomach and a red blush warm your cheek.
"Yeah it is…" your voice came out almost uncertain, you don't remember when you were propose and what happened yesterday. When ever you think it was like a fog was there.
"Come on now I made breakfast we wouldn't like it to get cold do we?"
And so it begins again, It was just a matter of time.
──── 𐙚 ────
I love physiological horror, it so fun to write! To the anon who asked for it I hope this was to your standard.
I got this idea first from the Qifrey clone theory, some say it is Iguin but there is no clear answer it just speculation and I wanna play around with this idea.
I realized that based on how much I'm writing for Beastie, it's bound to become hard to keep up with what fic goes where. So here it is! A masterlist for the Beast!Reader idea in chronological order!
'wip' : work-in-progress
! : Commented/Requested fic
Red : May contain triggering content
<3 : Fluff and/or comfort
Halfway-Purple : May contain Manga spoilers
Introduction (Part I) [Blurb of their life within the hands of the Brimhats]
Introduction (Part II): "Escaping" the witches... [A continuation of the introduction where the unnamed child is left for dead outside of a human village]
Introduction (Part III): ...Only to be caught [The final part of the unnamed child’s introduction where their lifestyle outside of the human village is halted by the Knights Moralis]
wip - <3 Beldaruit’s stories [The old man’s stories are great for history lessons and calming the new child down when memories get too harsh]
wip - Learning to accept Magic [Multiple small blurbs of the Knights of Moralis slowly getting (Name) to grow tolerant to magic]
<3 Joining the Atelier [Qifrey and Olruggio accept the (forced) request for them to house an odd apprentice. They soon learn why they were sent to the solitary atelier]
wip - <3 It’s okay to hide [Olruggio has to learn that sometimes there’s nothing you can do except wait outside the door]
<3 Nightmares & Comfort [(Name) has a nightmare in front of Qifrey, who is able to calm them down afterwards]
<3 A meal with Olruggio [Learning that the meals (Name) is hesitant to eat is in fact not poisoned]
! <3 A Child's Drawing [A good hobby for the traumatized child with their references being Olruggio and their own dreams]
wip (should be uploaded 7/26) - <3 Physical Comfort [Sometimes (Name)’s transformations hurt their body more than usual, and a young Agott doesn’t really understand that but tries to cheer them up anyway]
wip - <3 Birthday? [Tetia forces the entire atelier (her, Agott, and the two Masters) to celebrate (Name)’s “birthday” despite no one actually knowing their birthday. (Name)’s confused, Tetia feels bad, Agott is annoyed]
wip - <3 Recovery isn’t a linear path [Richeh is surprisingly good at grounding (Name)]
wip - <3 Traveling into human territory [Qifrey takes Agott and (Name) into the market district and accidentally loses the children]
<3 Meeting Coco [They were right, no one other than Qifrey would fit into that rumor!]
wip - <3 Feelings are hard [(Name) wouldn’t say they’re jealous, just left out while watching the girls play in the fields during sunset]
wip - They're not a witch [Coco asks too many questions to a sleep-deprived (Name), causing them to snap at the apprentice. *Might split into two parts]
Let me know if there's any ideas you'd want to see—new or presently on the list, if there’s suspense for one above, I’ll prioritize it! (´ω｀)
aka. Qifrey is bound to you by a magic string, problems arise the moment fear enters the relationship — how are you two going to deal with these uncertainties?
Qifrey x reader
cw: none
AN: guys the sentences are confusing me too, trust I've had 3 people read over this and we all agreed that this might be the most complicated piece of mine yet — bear with me please
In the earliest days of magic, before glyphs were carved into stone and before witches learned to coax light from ink, the world was woven from threads.
Not metaphorical ones, but real strands of living magic that stretched across the land like veins of gold. They connected rivers to mountains, storms to seasons, hearts to hearts. Even now, centuries later, remnants of those primordial threads linger beneath the ribs of every witch, dormant until they recognize another. The scholars say the threads remember what people forget. They say the threads choose long before the heart understands.
Yours lay quiet for years, a faint shimmer beneath your skin, unnoticed and unremarkable. It stirred only when you stepped into Qifrey’s atelier — a place built on old enchantments and older secrets. The atelier breathed like a living creature. Its beams were carved with glyphs that shifted like migrating birds when touched by sunlight. The floorboards hummed with ancient spells, soft as a heartbeat. Shelves bowed under the weight of spellbooks whose pages rustled even when no wind passed. The air smelled of cedar, ink, and the metallic sweetness of magic. It was a place where creation was not an act but a condition of existence.
And in that breathing magic, your thread woke.
It unfurled from your chest like a line of gold ink drawn in the air, trembling with the shock of recognition. Qifrey felt it before he saw it. He turned toward you with a startled softness, his single visible eye widening as the thread shimmered between you. It was delicate, quivering, as though unsure whether it should reveal itself. He didn’t touch it. He simply looked at it with a reverence that made the air feel suddenly sacred.
The apprentices whispered about it for days. Soulmate threads were rare, and yours glowed brighter than most. It pulsed faintly whenever you and Qifrey stood close, a soft heartbeat of shared magic. You felt it in small moments — when he guided your hand over a glyph, when he laughed at something quiet, when he brushed past you in the narrow hallway. The thread hummed with possibility, with promise, with the quiet certainty of something ancient and inevitable.
But threads are sensitive things. They respond not only to love, but to fear.
As the weeks passed, you began to feel a tension in the golden line. It wasn’t painful, not yet, but it was there — a subtle pull, a faint ache. Doubt crept in like cold air through a cracked window. You wondered if the thread was a blessing or a burden. You wondered if Qifrey felt the same. You wondered if you were enough for him, or if the thread had chosen for you both without asking.
The atelier noticed before either of you spoke. Magic is sensitive to emotion. The glyph‑etched beams dimmed slightly, their glow fading whenever the thread strained. The enchanted windows showed storms more often, even when the weather outside was clear. Spell‑dust settled thicker on the shelves, as if the air itself had grown heavy. The world around you mirrored the fraying inside you.
Qifrey approached you gently, as if you were a fragile spell circle he didn’t want to disturb. He didn’t ask what was wrong. He simply stood near you, letting the thread speak for him. It dimmed. It trembled. It pulled.
And in a moment of quiet panic, he tied the first knot.
A small one, clumsy and desperate. A knot made not of malice but of fear — fear of losing you, fear of watching the thread snap, fear of being left alone with the silence of an atelier that had grown used to your presence. But knots change the way a thread lies. They pull. They strain. They remind you of breaks that almost happened.
You felt the knot immediately — a tightness in your chest, a heaviness in your steps. You didn’t know what he had done, only that something felt wrong. The thread, once smooth and luminous, now carried a small imperfection. A bruise. A memory of fear.
And the atelier, which had once felt like a sanctuary, suddenly felt like a loom whose rhythm you no longer understood.
---
The thread between you had become a landscape — no longer a single golden line, but a terrain of knots, frayed fibers, and patched places where magic had been forced to remember what hands had done to it. It stretched from your chest to Qifrey’s like a river that had survived storms, its once‑smooth surface broken by the evidence of every moment you had faltered, every moment he had feared, every moment the world had asked more of you than you knew how to give.
The atelier around you breathed with its own ancient rhythm. The fire in the hearth crackled softly, sending thin ribbons of smoke curling upward like stray threads seeking a place to belong. The flames cast amber light across the carved beams overhead, making the glyphs shimmer like constellations caught in wood. Outside, the enchanted windows showed a gentle snowfall drifting over distant mountains — a quiet illusion meant to soothe apprentices, though tonight it felt like a reminder of how cold the world could be when hearts drifted apart. The air smelled of cedar and ink and the faint metallic sweetness of spell‑dust, a scent that had become the background music of your shared life.
And in that warm, flickering glow, the thread revealed its imperfections.
Some knots were small, barely more than a twist in the gold, tightened in moments of quiet panic. They clung to the thread like frozen dew, fragile and translucent, holding the memory of a single breath where he thought you might slip away. Others were larger, thick and clumsy, tied with trembling hands in the dark hours when the atelier felt too big and your silence felt too heavy. These knots bulged like scar tissue, uneven and stubborn, refusing to lie flat no matter how gently you touched them.
There were places where the gold had dulled, losing its shine as though the magic itself had grown tired. These sections lay like faded embroidery, worn by the friction of doubt. They carried a heaviness — the weight of words left unsaid, of glances avoided, of nights spent on opposite sides of the room pretending the thread did not ache. When the firelight touched these dull patches, they did not glow; they only absorbed the light, quiet and resigned.
And then there were the blackened parts.
Thin segments where the gold had turned dark, as if charred by unresolved hurt. These were not knots, not frays, but burns — places where the thread had absorbed too much tension, too much fear, too much longing without release. They pulsed faintly, like old wounds that had never fully healed. When your fingers brushed them, the magic shivered, remembering the moment it had dimmed. The blackened places were the hardest to look at — not because they were ugly, but because they were honest.
Qifrey had tried to mend these places with scraps — thin strands of other threads, borrowed from spells meant for repairing cloth or restoring broken glyphs. They were not gold. They were pale silver, soft blue, muted copper, woven in with careful hands. These scraps wrapped around the damaged sections like bandages, holding the weakened fibers together. They were uneven, mismatched, undeniably imperfect — but they kept the thread from breaking.
Some scraps were tied gently, their ends tucked neatly into the weave. Others were knotted hastily, their loose ends sticking out like stray hairs. A few were frayed themselves, worn thin from the strain of holding two hearts together. But they remained, stubborn and loyal, refusing to let the thread fall apart.
The thread, once a single flawless line, had become a tapestry of survival.
It carried the memory of fear, the evidence of mistakes, the scars of unraveling. It carried the softness of repair, the warmth of forgiveness, the quiet strength of choosing each other again and again. It was no longer the thread that fate had given you. It was the thread you had made together — shaped by your hands, your hesitations, your hope.
The atelier responded to this new thread with a kind of reverent acceptance. The fire crackled more warmly, its flames rising higher as though encouraged by the resilience woven into the golden line. The glyphs on the beams glowed with a deeper amber, their light soft and steady. The enchanted windows shifted from snowfall to gentle rain, droplets sliding down the glass like blessings. The air hummed with a quiet harmony, as though the magic had decided that imperfection was not a flaw but a form of truth.
You touched the thread, feeling its uneven texture. It was not beautiful in the way ancient texts described. It was beautiful in the way lived things are — flawed, weathered, resilient. A testament to survival. A testament to choice.
The thread pulsed gently beneath your fingers, as though acknowledging your touch. It did not shine uniformly. It did not lie straight. It did not pretend to be perfect. It simply existed — stubborn, mended, alive.
And in that moment, you understood something the scholars had never written, something the ancient texts had never dared to say:
Soulmate threads were never meant to remain pristine.
They were meant to be altered by the hands that held them.
Love was not a smooth line.
It was a tapestry woven from imperfect hands.
It was knots tied in fear, stitches sewn in hope, fibers patched with whatever scraps you had left.
It was effort.
It was sacrifice.
It was choosing to mend instead of discard.
The fire crackled softly behind you, its warmth settling over your shoulders like a cloak. The atelier breathed with you, its magic steady and calm. And the thread — uneven, knotted, patched, blackened, glowing — pulsed with a quiet, persistent light.
Love was never meant to be flawless.
It was meant to be tended.
---
And so, in the hush of the atelier, with the fire murmuring in the hearth and the glyph‑lit beams glowing like distant stars, the thread between you settled into its final shape — not perfect, not pristine, but whole in the way only tended things can be. It hung in the warm air like a constellation drawn by trembling hands, its knots glinting like memories, its frayed places whispering of storms survived, its patched sections glowing faintly where borrowed scraps held the fragile magic together. The dull gold shimmered softly, accepting its scars; the blackened segments pulsed with a quiet resilience, no longer wounds but reminders of the depth of what had been endured. And as the fire crackled, sending sparks drifting upward like tiny embers seeking a sky, the thread breathed with you — rising and falling, glowing and dimming, alive in its imperfection. In that moment, surrounded by the gentle hum of old enchantments and the soft rustle of spell‑dust settling on the shelves, you understood that love was not the golden thread fate had given you, but the tapestry you had woven from fear and hope, from unraveling and repair, from silence and reaching back. It was a thing shaped by your hands, strengthened by your choices, softened by your forgiveness. And as the night deepened and the atelier wrapped itself around you like a cloak, the thread glowed with a quiet, persistent light — a promise not of perfection, but of endurance. A promise that even the most frayed magic could be beautiful when tended. A promise that love, in all its knots and scars, was still worth weaving.
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Why am I getting a lot of follow from beta-readers....? And not only that I'm also getting bots messages from wattpad telling me they wish to draw my stories WTF?
