#red thread of fate

[kirawrart]

BkDk Inktober Day 12 (2023) - "Red String of Fate" Kacchan. Kacchan, please. This is why we can't have nice things 😔 (I think this one might be my favorite so far 😂)

[femmeetart]

Millennia worth of yearning

[fawnyn]

imagine a yandere who can see the red string of fate (and believes in fate).

warnings: obsession, stalking, does this count as manipulation..

➣ red string-seer!yandere who was born with the ability to see the vibrant crimson threads connecting destined lovers. to him, the world is made up of them, the whole thing a complex tapestry of interwoven fates, and he's always believed in the absolute truth of these connections.

➣ red string-seer!yandere who spent his childhood passively observing the strings, fascinated by the way they stretched, tangled, and eventually drew people together. he always assumed his own string would lead them to someone perfect.

➣ and he was right! how sweet.

➣ red string-seer!yandere who, upon seeing his own red thread tied to you, experiences an overwhelming sense of validation. there's no doubt in his mind—you are the one.

➣ red string-seer!yandere who initially tries to orchestrate "chance" encounters, subtly "guiding" you toward him, believing he's just helping fate play its part. he'll find out where you live, where you work, what time you go out for a walk, and even that you always buy the slightly bruised gala apples at the very back of the produce section at the grocery store you visit every tuesday because you feel bad for the apples since no one else bought them (which is a little odd.. but it's okay he loves you anyways!). he'll appear wherever you go, always seeming to just coincidentally be there.

➣ red string-seer!yandere who becomes increasingly frustrated that you don't immediately recognize your destined connection to him. he's literally everywhere you are! it's stalking fate! why don't you realize it?

➣ red string-seer!yandere who, despite his growing frustration, is careful not to outright reveal his ability. he knows that telling you about the red string would sound crazy, and he can't risk you thinking he's anything less than the perfect partner.

➣ red string-seer!yandere who, when you finally do speak to him, will seem incredibly charming and attentive, almost too good to be true. he's already studied your every preference, so he knows exactly what to say to make you feel comfortable and understood!

➣ red string-seer!yandere who will (not so) subtly try to steer your conversations towards topics that reinforce the idea of destiny, soulmates, and fate. he'll casually mention stories or movies or instances of fated lovers, watching your reaction closely.

➣ red string-seer!yandere who, upon seeing the string starting to tangle, begins to subtly sabotage your other relationships, believing they're the root cause for it. an accidentally overheard phone call that leads to a misunderstanding with a friend, a misplaced item that makes you late for a planned outing, or a rumor that causes you to lose someone dear to you. anything to clear the path for your fated connection ♡.

➣ red string-seer!yandere who, when you finally start to show some reciprocal interest (even if it's just out of politeness or resignation), feels an immense surge of triumph. he sees it as what it is: fate.

➣ red string-seer!yandere who becomes bolder. he'll start giving you actual invitations for dates or outings, always making sure they align perfectly with your own interests.

➣ red string-seer!yandere who, during your conversations, will talk about you both being fated, highlighting all the little "coincidences" that brought you together. he'll frame them as undeniable proof that you were always meant to be.

➣ red string-seer!yandere who will begin to express mild concern if you spend too much time away from him, saying that you seem less vibrant or a bit sadder when you're not together. he'll make you question if something's wrong when he's not around, subtly seeding the idea of you needing him into your mind.

➣ red string-seer!yandere who, as you fall more and more for him, will occasionally trace the invisible line of the red string from his own hand to yours, a look of satisfaction and certainty on his face. fate always wins in the end.

[poucz]

"The "Red Thread of Fate" is an East Asian myth that says an invisible red thread connects those destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstances. This thread can stretch or tangle but never break, symbolizing the inevitable connection".

*Strongly referenced by the photography of Luigi Boatto.

[kelogsloops]

'The Surrender' releases as a print tomorrow, Thursday Nov 23rd, 12PM (PT) on my store!

This piece was from my solo exhibition a few years back titled, ’Sanctuary’. The theme of the show was centred around states of mental rest and respite. This piece was about envisioning the waves of thoughts that run through your mind: sometimes gentle, but sometimes crashing swells that leave you with no room to breathe or gasp for air. But in knowing that the waves are cyclical and eventually ease, she finds herself surrendering to the motions and trusting that it will be okay. 

NOTE: This gold-foil edition of this print will only be available for 72-hours & will not be available again thereafter.

#brbchasingdreams

[acupunkature]

[yuushin7]

Day 03: First meet; Day 17: Sharing bed OR "How it started" vs…. How they'll end up someday 😅 They're getting there! Just very slowly Day 03 could also double as alternate for Day 16: Red Thread…. Which gives me idea that I could combine 2 days if I end up lagging behind too much 🤔especially since not all prompts spark inspiration for me 😅

[inksoftly]

Tied to You, Torn by You

The blurred memories came to light,

With bleeding, screaming, and chilling sight.

You came back in this life, when fate cracked,

But this time the red thread turned to black.

We met again, you promised stars,

Then why did you give me hollow scars?

The thread once warm now burns my skin,

A bond I lost, yet live within.

Thread said — we are made for each other,

You proved it, when we held not flowers but scars together.

Our story is just like Beauty and the Beast,

But this time,

The beast cursed the queen.

I tried to run, but the thread held tight,

A silent grip in dead of night.

It pulled me back into your heart,

But your love burned my final part.

I've lost the will to break from you,

In another life, I still pray to make you my blue.

But if we're meant, then let this be true —

Or turn me into your mirror too.

@inksoftly

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This is the second part of " WHERE THE THREAD LEADS ".

When the red thread of fate turn black.

Hope you will like and support it.

If you haven't read WHERE THE THREAD LEAD then this for you

https://www.tumblr.com/inksoftly/788484548070703104/where-the-thread-leads? source=share

If the link is not working, you can read in my page.

[worldbuildingwanderlust]

I could play a symphony

Strumming the thread

That connects our souls

[qo-promise-me]

A beautiful piece of art made by the incredible @ins0mnia-dreams

Along with one of my favorite tropes of all time, the red thread of fate. Because I fully believe that despite their initial hardships their bond grew stronger overtime and their care and love for each other, glows like the light side of Force itself.

Thank you so much!

[19silvermirrors]

All the love, all the time 💕

[alvivaarts]

what's it called when you die and wake up and then remarry your wife but you and your wife have homoerotic relationship going on with the hot guy who's absolutely crush worthy and simultaneously crushed with the weight of your death as his own personal responsibility but you're all trying to fix the timeline anyway (and failing)

something a little gay I guess but hey, second time's charm?

[ikeromantic]

Maeda Meet Cute

A Keiji Maeda red thread of fate story for @scruffymctee for the occasion of her birthday ^_^ Featuring her lovely OC Tomoyo. Approx 2000 words of modern AU fate, love, and kisses!

Keiji wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. It was a warm day, bright sun and a hint of a breeze. Shame, he thought, to spend it working like this. But needs must. He pulled his sweat-soaked shirt off and hung it off one of the bare planks jutting from the side of the building. 

"Showing off again, boss?" One of the guys shouted from his spot up on the scaffolding. 

"Always," Keiji laughed. He kept a smile on his face for the crew. All day, every day. In work like this, morale meant everything. Happy men made for better workers. Besides, his misery was his own. They didn't need to know. "Besides, it's hot," he added. "I can't believe it's only May!"

"Be a rough summer," the guy agreed. 

"Now stop watching me and pay attention to the damn crane," he shouted up at the workers. The building project Keiji managed was scheduled to complete in August. It was a beast of a job, but worth it, if they could make the deadline. He felt fairly confident they would. No matter what kind of failure his family thought him, he had a good reputation in the industry. He was the guy you hired when your building had to be done by a certain date, within budget. Keiji hadn't failed a project yet, and wasn't about to start. 

He might never be famous, but damn if he wasn't going to be the most successful construction company in the country. The crew he'd built, his network of suppliers and contacts, his reputation . . . it would all . . . Keiji's thoughts scattered as an odd tingling swept over his skin. He felt as if a cool breeze kissed his bare chest and back, raising the hairs on his arms. 

Keiji glanced around, wondering if anyone else on his crew felt the same. If they did, their faces didn't betray it. He bent back to work, but the sensation persisted. Keiji kept looking up, distracted and a little confused. That was when he spotted her. 

She was gorgeous. Long dark hair pulled into a loose braid over her shoulder, eyes that flashed emerald green in the afternoon sun. Lips as red and sweet as ripe pomegranate seeds. Her curves were hardly concealed by the playful sundress she wore. The woman was lounging beside a drink cart. Her fingers were curled around the neck of a glass bottle, little droplets of condensation glittered on her skin from the cold drink. 

Her eyes met his as she lifted the drink to her lips, and never in his life had he wished to be a bottle more than at that moment. There was something irrepressibly sensual about her that made his face hot and sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. He grinned at her and winked. 

The woman smiled back. Then, she let her eyes travel up and down Keiji's body. He could feel her gaze, as if she were trailing her fingers along his chest and the fly of his jeans. Keiji licked his lips, feeling suddenly exposed. 

"Looks like you've got an admirer, boss," one of his crew commented with a chuckle. 

"Something like that." Keiji cleared his throat, trying to bring himself back to the moment. So what if a beautiful woman gave him a once-over. It wasn't like this was a first. It meant nothing. He pulled himself away, turning back toward the building. He could still feel her eyes on him, that phantom touch caressing his shoulders and the small of his back. 

Keiji tried to ignore the sensation, even as it drew him toward her in a way he could not explain. His eyes travelled over the work site, avoiding the woman, checking the safety measures as his crew began one of the more dangerous parts of their job. Hoisting structural supports to the upper floors. 

"Hey, watch that I-beam!" Keiji shouted up at the crane operator. Several tons of steel swung up over the scaffolding, titling precariously. The area beneath the hoist was clear, but the crane cables were swinging more than he liked.

"We got this," his crane operator called back. The prediction came a moment too soon. A sudden gust of wind at the top of the structure made the beam swing out wildly. The heavy steel tore free of the crane cables and tilted, first one direction, then another. Its shadow careened over the ground, predicting all the places it might come crashing down.

This wasn't the first time Keiji saw such a mishap. As the I-beam slipped free of the last restraint, he saw where it would land. Atop the woman, who was still watching him. Her expression betrayed not a hint of dismay. Keiji didn't pause to shout a purposeless warning. He lunged toward her, knocking her out of the path of the falling steel. His body twisted to protect her from the hard asphalt and concrete beneath them. 

The world shook for a moment as the I-beam landed with a deafening crash. Keiji and the woman were only inches away, lying half on the sidewalk, half on the street. The remains of her sweet soda slowly soaked into Keiji's jeans. He barely noticed. His full attention was on the woman.

He could smell her, a scent unlike any perfume. It was warm and summery, with just a hint of cinnamon spice beneath. Her hair tickled his face where it had come loose from the braid. She fit against him as if they were molded together. The curves and hollows of her body pressed into his own perfectly. Though she was safe now, he found himself reluctant to let go. "You should watch where you're standing, princess," he murmured, trying to play his reaction off as something other than attraction.

"Maybe you should watch where you drop your things." She arched a brow, unphased by the near miss and the intimate contact. Her nails trailed lightly down the outside of his upper arm. "Somebody might get hurt," she added, her lips curling in a slight, playful smile as if she'd made a joke. 

"You could have been," he retorted, feeling all out of sorts. His heart was pounding harder now than it had been when he leapt for her. Somehow, the idea of this stranger being injured set a panic in him. 

The woman gave a slight shrug. "I knew I'd be alright."

Keiji couldn't help but grin, though it was out of exasperation as much as amusement. "So you just expect random people to jump to your rescue?"

"Nope. Just you." She nibbled her lower lip for a heartbeat, as if considering whether or not to say more. "I just knew you wouldn't let me get hurt. It's weird but . . ." Her gaze fixed on his. "I feel like I know you?"

Though she spoke the words with a questioning lilt, Keiji knew it wasn't a question. He felt it too. Down to his bones. He didn't even know her name but holding her like this felt natural. Like he'd been doing it his whole life. "Yeah."

People were crowding around now, and he knew he should let go. Help her up. Check the damage to the beam and the worksite. But he couldn't bear to let go. Not yet. "What's your name?"

"Tomoyo." She smiled. "And you are?"

"Keiji. Keiji Maeda."

She repeated his name, savoring the syllables. "We should probably get up," the woman added. She made no move to follow through. 

There were sirens in the distance, coming closer with every breath. In no time at all, he'd need to be looked at by emergency services, and begin the unpleasant task of getting the work back on track. "Tomoyo." He liked the way her name sounded, liked the flicker of heat in her eyes when he said it. "Can I get your number?"

Tomoyo grinned. "Only if I get yours too." 

Only then did Keiji stand, still cradling her to his chest. He set her on her feet and released one arm, though the other still curled gently around her back. "You ok?"

"Yes." She had a smile he could only call challenging. "Thanks for saving me, Keiji."

He was going to toss out some half sarcastic, witty reply, but before he could, she lifted onto her tiptoes and brushed the lightest of kisses to his lips. His mind emptied of everything but her. The feel of her, the sweetness of her lips. The faint taste of strawberry from her drink, and Tomoyo, even sweeter beneath that. 

Keiji wanted to crush her to him, to kiss her breathless. To carry her off like some romance novel hero, to make love in a mountaintop castle worthy of a woman like her. He wanted to drown in her passion. To make her say his name, to moan it, while he buried himself in her. Keiji had never wanted anything so much as he wanted more of Tomoyo. But the emergency services were pulling up and the world was already breaking into this moment between them. Pulling them apart. Asserting the bald, sharp face of reality against the pleasure-dream. 

He let go. She stepped back. The two of them were swarmed a moment later, phone numbers forgotten in the panic of the aftermath. Medical services checked them over, along with anyone else in the accident's general area. The construction crew poured out of the worksite, hemming and hawing about the crane and the wind and what to do next. 

There was so much to worry about, so much to do. Keiji tried to catch sight of Tomoyo through the throng, but couldn't find her. His body ached for her closeness. Absurd, he thought. But true nonetheless. It was as if a string tied tight around his heart, and every moment away from her it drew tighter. 

Then, with no warning she was there, pushing something into his hand. Her satin-soft fingertips pressing against his calloused palm. A shred of paper. "Call me," she mouthed. And then she was gone again. 

"To hell with that." Keiji stood from the spot the medics left him. He pushed past his crew and the emergency responders. "Tomoyo," he shouted. "Tomoyo!" Keiji spotted her sundress, her graceful limbs, the now-tangled sway of her braid. He ran toward her.

Tomoyo turned as he closed in. "Keiji?"

"I don't want to call you," he admitted. There was a flash of hurt in her eyes, and he reached out to take her hands. "I don't want to be that far from you." 

She blinked up at him, confused. "I don't understand."

"Come home with me? Or let me come with you? I'm-" Keiji paused, not sure if he should admit more. They barely knew each other, after all. But in for a penny, in for a pound. "I'm not ready to let you out of my sight. Not now, when I've just found you."

A smile slowly lifted the corners of her lips. "Bold of you, Keiji Maeda. What would you do if I said no?"

He knew she wouldn't. Not with that heat simmering in those jade green eyes. "I'd have to find a way to convince you."

Tomoyo laughed. "Is that so? And how would you convince me?"

"I could sing? Dance?" He dropped to his knees. "I could beg."

"Or you could kiss me," she counter-offered.

"Or that," he agreed, pulling her down to him. His lips met hers and this time it was no light brush. Her lips parted with a gasp as his arms went around her, hands tangling in her dress. His tongue teased past those sweet candy-red lips and into the sacred mystery beyond. Tasting, toying, exploring her. And she kissed him back, every bit as hungry for more of him as he was for her. 

Keiji wanted to keep his eyes on her, but the feeling was too overwhelming. His body felt as if it was on fire, as if his heart was ready to burst. His eyes closed, flickers of light forming in the darkness behind his eyelids. The light was green as emeralds. Green as jade. Green as the color of Tomoyo's eyes. He could feel the rapid beat of her pulse, the flutter of their shared breath. 

He stood, lifting her up as he did. Breaking the kiss to call back to his workers. "I'll see you tomorrow!" 

Tomoyo gave them a cheeky wave as they left to the sound of joyful laughter and confused questions. Between them, there was no confusion. There was only an undeniable connection. A thread woven between them, unbreakable, and drawing tighter every moment. Keiji was afraid to use the word love, but he didn't need to think it, to say it, to know it was true. In time, it would come of its own accord, admitting with a breath what they both felt.

[carminegoescrazy]

Red Thread of Fate

(I know, I know, that’s not how the serum or blood transfusion works. But let’s just pretend…)

[artsyannierose]

2K on twitter dtiys :0

(link to rules under cut)

It may be a twitter contest but you guys are free to join!!

[inksoftly]

Where the thread leads

Morning :-

I woke with threads around my wrist red, and pulsing like a promise missed.

I looked in the mirror,

My eyes , a battlefield of rain and heatwaves in June

It felt like another life - where you were the only truth.

Noon :-

In the beach full of people, i saw two souls,

Connected with a red thread, beside a child of four.

One had same eyes I have seen before

The other - too familiar for this world to ignore.

Then I realised - it was me

Before the tide

Took them apart

To the plantes on apposite sides.

Evening:-

It's raining outside , I was in a pool

Sipping my drink , remembering you ..

And suddenly the world changed

I was a swan in golden cage.

I saw you there bleeding in white skin,

The same red thread but -

This time the thread was blooded ink.

I mourn for your pain , i couldn't steal

But your blood promised , i would heal.

Night:-

Now it's my working time ,

I am seated in a formal dine.

Everyone is here , yet something's wrong

A sudden wind pulls me along

I was a sailor , selling spices

You were the trader , asking about finances.

Our eyes found each other,

Your gaze got soften.

We were caught between,

Midst and mountain.

Yet something stopped us ,

May be our differences.

You signed the deal , your finger slow

With ink the colour of threads we know.

It bled like fate across the page—

A vow unspoken, yet set in cage.

A final nod, a silent seal—

Goodbye, and the end of the deal.

Reality of midnight:-

The stars are dull through city glass

I walk alone as people pass.

I have seen your holy scars , your sacred face

But time has blurred your final trace .

I am still waiting, I will always wait

For you to come ,

To pull the red thread ,

To mend what fate forgot to make.

≈ inksoftly

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Spoiler 📍:-

The Red Thread of Fate ties two souls who are meant to meet. It may tangle, stretch, or fade—but it never breaks. This is a poem about that thread across lifetimes.