#The Garden of Neuro

[writinginnorthnorfolk]

Drowning in the Morning Light

Dreams of swimming with whales and dolphins,once green as the sea, are dispersed in dawn’s golden light. We’re haunted by waves and sea creaturesonly in our sleep; sunrise always steals them away. Sea salt is in our blood, memoriesof the ocean our tears; we drown in the morning light. Kim M. Russell, 25th August 2024 Image from Unsplash+ in collaboration with Polina Kuzovkova My response to…

[crispy-dib]

Shoutout to the Sonic Movie 3 trailer for making me bring back this au that I’ve had since I was 16

He is more Biolizard-like and she has more neuroimmune symptoms🗣️🗣️‼️

[memorydatas]

chao chao chao chao chao chao chao chao ch

[heartsoundslikelove]

Black Poetry Day - Gwyndolyn Brooks & Toni Morrison

Celebrate Black Poetry Day with dedications to Toni Morrison and Gwendolyn Brooks! 🎉 On this special day, October 17th, we are thrilled to celebrate Black Poetry Day—a day dedicated to honoring the profound voices and contributions of Black poets throughout history. Sponsored by the Garden of Neuro Institute, we shine a light on two literary legends whose works have inspired and uplifted…

[thefactsofthematter]

not to nerd out on main but i fucking love mnemonics

[ffjj5]

Its been a while Jikookers, but let me tell you why...

Just a warning this post will talk about grief and death, so if you aren't in a place to want to read that right now please scroll past 💜

On October 11th my world changed and I am still working out how to be in it without my best friend. I have never felt loss and pain like I do right now but I am surrounded by amazing friends and family who will help me work this shit out. My beautiful friend of 20+ years died after a very short time in Neuro ICU following a burst brain aneurysm. No warning, just walking home from lunch with a friend on the 3rd October and she collapsed in the street, she never regained consciousness and died peacefully surrounded by her siblings, children and mum 8 days later on 11th October.

It's the little things I am struggling with, the coffee dates on my days off, the messages she would send just to say 'love you' and ask how your day was, the random phone calls because she was putting off gardening or housework, the messages to say have lovely trip the day before or after you went as she always got the date wrong, but she never forgot the important dates and would spend her last pound to get you a card to celebrate.

One of the reasons for me posting on here is because I want to recognise how being part of this fandom and being a Jikooker has had a profound impact on my grieving during this time. In life some people come along and impact on your life in a way they may never understand because you can't find the right words to tell them, but even from thousands of miles away their words bring you strength and comfort, a hug in the form of a voice message. Part of me working through this shitty grieving process has been to just say what is in my head into my phone and send the message to this person, with no expectation of a reply or words of wisdom, but she has never let me down. Even if its just to say 'keep going, it will get better', she has never allowed me to feel unheard.

So @dgtn please stand up and accept your virtual hug, until I can give you one in person 😊

A week ago we had a ceremony and celebration of life for my friend and it was beautiful, the sun shone, we cried, we laughed ( she loved to laugh and was always making us laugh) and I started on the next part of my grief journey, to learn to live without her but never forgetting her.

Everyday is a new day and some are harder than others, work is either a blessing of a distraction, or a curse, as my ability to deal with stress and the stupidity and pettiness of the general public is better some day then others. My work colleagues have been beyond amazing and the love and support they have given me has been beyond anything I could imagine. But I know my friend would be shouting at me to live my life now as it is too damn short and can be gone in an instant, so that is what I am doing. Next year is busy, first K-pop concert (Ateez, don't get me started on how excited I am), West end theatre show, and the icing on the cake is a trip to Niagara falls and NYC in March! Not to mention the impending BTS concert when that pesky military service is over for all our guys.

Music is an important part of my life and BTS' music has helped me massively, I have cried to it, I have sung my heart out to it, and I have sat in silence and just listened to it and taken comfort from their lyrics.

One song which has seen me do all three is Zero o clock, so what better way for me to sign off than with this...

[rins-batcave]

holy fucking shit its done

@ MY MOOTS

THERES SO MANY PEOPLE

AND LIKE IM REALLY WORRIED I MISSED SOMEONE CUS I GOT LOWKEY OVERWHELMED

BUT LET ME LNOW IF I DID MISS SOMEONE

below the cut is everyone's usernames <33333 (let me know if you wanna be un tagged or if i missed someone

also sorry if your pfp is outdated

(updated as of nov 18, 2024)

@antigerrymanderingspiderman

@asters-tempo

@weewooooweew

@sotiredimbored

@silly-fox-and-its-stuffies

@crowofthestars

@imsooooooootired

@thatonebitheaterkid

@definitionoffuckup

@arandombiped

@cactus-with-boobs

@thatfantasyreader

@randomravager

@bucketsandraincoats

@hershey-not-the-chocolate-maybe

@mun-urufu

@stars-on-my-bedroom-ceiling

@mothykleo

@thatgayash

@ru3-1s-d3ad

@moonage-nightterrors

@groovyfandomhuman

@star-dust-shark

@suicideenthusiast

@choucon

@rorys-bullshit-dot-com

@xx-neuro-xx

@k-is-for-potassium

@quintessentially1

@iris-entity

@forestgromlin

@rapidlydecayingcorpse

@gone-in-the-woods

@sparky4577

@but-aint-this-texas

@unstableunicornsofasgard

@evry1h8s-me

@in-the-corner-reading

@theodditylacey

@mildlybizarrecorvid

@driftingqueer

@dandelions-arent-weeds

@calypso10191

@chickencentaur

@catinasink

@raeprise

@renskiii-10

@kawaiibarty

@funz1es

@flaming-cactus

@augmentedchordsofficial

@seajelly-sillyjeans

@circe-butbetter

@voxxxlol

@genderfluid-diaries

@here-am-i-sitting-in-a-tin-can

@weirdo-of-the-woods

@emilem-forevermore

@demigod-jack-hearth

@slightchanceofarson

@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat

@sage-way

@garden-of-runar

@arcas-st

@this-is-happening-kinda

@woahg-i-am-thoroughly-confused

@matty-os-blog

@enbypalsidk

@thesaddersalad

@37x3

@ms-macintosh

@noahher

@dustybookcover

@halflingwithaknife

@currently-eleos

@gasolinehornet

@crackedupjollywanger

@shark-tranny

@emdabitchass

@th3-r4t-48

[sotiredimbored]

mutual appreciation post

what i would get everyone for the holidays(not christmas bcuz holidays)

if this is basic asf i apologize i am currently exploding <3

also if i forgot you i am so soryr i forgive me please i am afraid(maybe im afraid of you and youre too cool)

@sweetest-thing-in-hell ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you an album (soryr i dont know you well but sabrina carpenter)

@mintbecrazy ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a camera like a vintage one

@woahg-i-am-thoroughly-confused ˋ°•*⁀➷ its your bday soon !! sorry mention of bdays anywho i would get you alien stage merch because i think you like that

@apjofan ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a mug that says "it will all be ok"

@emdabitchass ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you pjo merch

@just-another-starry-dreamer ˋ°•*⁀➷ at the comis store in the mall i always go to theres a litlte sign that says i am an unpaid therapist and id get you that

@that-willowtree ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you bsd things

@starkissed-mars ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would give you a fucking hug bc i fele as though you need one(if ur ok with hugs)

@here-am-i-sitting-in-a-tin-can ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a book of robert frosts poetry because yes

@asters-tempo ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you art supplies(praying you dont think this is basic)

@stars-taylorsversion ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would write you marauders things(soryr i dont know you superly yet)

@rins-batcave ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would give you a wallows album

@deadatthealtar ˋ°•*⁀➷ ride the cyclone merch

@circe-butbetter ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would write you fanfiction

@emilem-forevermore ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a hoodie that says "all my friends think im amazing"

@racc00ning ˋ°•*⁀➷i would get you something from epic(idk if theres merch but)

@aidens-ocean-galaxy ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you yellow jackets things and let you rant to me more about them because yes

@calypso10191 ˋ°•*⁀➷ CAL MY FRIEND i would get you airplane tickets to visit anyone you want

@seekmemystar ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a greek painting(the vibes trust trust)

@thestrawberryapologist ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you that ring that expands into an angel

@planetjinko ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you all the tbhk books

@a-t1r3d-b1s3xual ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a laptop bcuz i know you want one

@moku-and-his-madness ˋ°•*⁀➷ getting you merch of tsuchigomori(i spelled it wrong didnt i)

@serialkilluh-1996 ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a red button that screams(trusttrust)

@arandombiped ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you alice oseman merchandise

@demigod-jack-hearth ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you hestia paintings

@blizzardtheartisticfox ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you hermitcraft things

@choucon ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a star pin(badly drawn) that says "your did it"

@xx-neuro-xx ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you tally hall album

@kermit-the-fag-official ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a kermit puppet

@pearl-div3r ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would write you epic shit

@fishcow99 ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you newsies stuff

@hershey-not-the-chocolate-maybe ˋ°•*⁀➷ i woud get you arcane shit

@kunikisss ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you call of duty things because i think you like that

@kawaiibarty ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a record player idk trust

@butch-marauders ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a girl in red album

@sunsets-are-my-universe ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a break(you need one lets be real)

@mun-urufu ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a mug that i made

@raeprise ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you spn things

@k-is-for-potassium ˋ°•*⁀➷i would get you a banana for the funny

@yourlocalbadgerscales ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you taylor swift merch

@stqrgirl3 ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a star mirror

@you-will-never-be-satisfied ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a hamilton advent calender

@whydousernamesevenexist ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would give you one of my old peanuts comic books from like the 1950s n shit

@aesthetic-writer18 ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would give you WRITING MOTIVATION WOO

@klondyke-the-bearˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a stuffed animal

@funz1es ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you oil painting sets becauz i think it would be good for you

@themortalityofundyingstars ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you sunflower seeds

@lifegoalsofafish ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you tcgf things( i hope thats how it works)

@garden-of-runar ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a cotton candy machine(its off vibes)

@gasolinehornet ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you tickets too a movie you want

@stars-on-my-bedroom-ceiling ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would give you a childrens book

@definitionoffuckup ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a tea packet(trust is this a shit gift perhaps)

if youd like to be removed from this lmk !!

[demigod-jack-hearth]

I'm gonna turn this into a post

THESE ARE MY AWESOME MOOT FRENDS

@the-gods-strange-children @sky-child-of-apollo @beauty-queen-official @emdabitchass @k-is-for-potassium @thegroovydaughterofhestia @boldofyoutoassumeicanspell @silena-daughterofaphrodite @zariahthewitch @sun13koi @mun-urufu @goddess-of-bubblegum @bast-the-best26 @reyna4ever @apollos-favorite-child @deciduowl @cringe-sunday @alexadaughterofposieden @the-eclipse-is-in-me @xx-neuro-xx @wretched-meadow @mildlybizarrecorvid @choucon @sotiredimbored @sleeplessfluid @ms-macintosh @crowofthestars @calypso10191 @bisexual-bat @alexanderhamioton321 @cloverthesimp365 @ilov3b00kss0much @fukurouonthesea @im-on-crack-send-help @permetutotheworld @the-official-failure @asp3n4ever @asters-tempo @garden-of-runar @deerfrog-supremacy @cceanvvaves @the-loveliest-liar@bay7let @filmy-didi @bastard-number-5 @auggies-dreamworld @gayfrogtime @rins-batcave @aceofthegays @shutupheather13 @circe-butbetter

[atomtanned]

🌹 atomtanned's Trait-Based Chemistry

I've used @lilbabydilljr's Turn-Ons & Turn-Offs for a while now, and I love that he added in 3t2 traits when calculating chemistry. I wanted to tweak it for my game, and I finally learned how to do so. This is a heavily-modified version of his mod, so most of the credit goes to him - I just added/removed traits and changed some images and text strings.

Like any mod that involves traits, this requires @hexagonal-bipyramid's Easy Inventory Check.

This is definitely the most involved BHAV editing I've done yet, so please let me know if you find any errors, as it's a bit hard to test in game.

UPDATE: If you use Clean UI (or any other UI mod that uses Clean UI as a base) this mod will need to load after. Or you can delete the turn-on images that are included with that mod.

UPDATE 2: @cityof2morrow let me know that this mod (and I believe any other custom turnon/turnoff mods) also conflict with NickM406's No More Loading the * Family mod. Thank you!!

✨ DOWNLOAD: SFS / PATREON / MF

I've included the full list of turn-ons/turn-offs below the Read More link. The original names of Dill's Turn-Ons are in parentheses where applicable. Please note that this list uses the original TS3 trait names for clarity, but there's recommendations for changed trait names below as well.

Adventurous: 3 vacations, Adventurous, Daredevil, Sailor

Alien: Trait, skin, eyes

Animal Lover: 2 pet friends, Animal Lover, Cat Person, Dog Person, Equestrian

Artistic: Artistic, Avant Garde, Photographer's Eye, Savvy Sculptor, Flower Arranging/Pottery/Sewing badge, Arts & Crafts hobby, Creative skill

Athletic: Athletic, Equestrian, Loves to Swim, Sports/Fitness hobby, Body skill

Charismatic: Born Salesperson, Charismatic, Flirty, Irresistible, Schmoozer, Star Quality, Charisma skill

Cultured (Bookish): Avant Garde, Bookworm, Film & Literature Hobby

Daydreamer (Dumb): Absent-Minded, Neurotic, Socially Awkward, Unstable, < 2 Logic Skill

Fitness/Fatness: no change from Maxis game behavior

Foodie: Natural Cook, Cuisine hobby, Cooking skill

Indoorsy (Gamer): Bookworm, Computer Whiz, Couch Potato, Hates the Outdoors, Film & Literature Hobby, Games Hobby

Infamous (Bad Rep): Negative Reputation, Evil, Mean-Spirited

Intellectual (Smart): Bookworm, Genius, Logic Skill

Laid Back (Slacker): Couch Potato, Mooch, Slob, Personality

Mechanical: Servo, Bot Fan, Computer Whiz, Handy, Vehicle Enthusiast, Robotics Badge, Tinkering hobby, Mechanical skill

Musical: Natural Born Performer, Star Quality, Virtuoso, Music & Dance hobby, Dance skill, Creativity skill

Occult: Werewolf, Plantsim, Bigfoot, Witch, Fairy, Mermaid

Outdoorsy: Angler, Green Thumb, Loves the Outdoors, Sailor, Gardening badge, Fishing badge, Nature hobby

Outgoing (Indoorsy): Friendly, Natural Born Performer, Party Animal, Social Butterfly

Plant Lover: Eco-Friendly, Gatherer, Green Thumb, Vegetarian, Flower/Gardening badge, Plantsim, Fairy

Rebellious (Baddie): Daredevil, Inappropriate, Kleptomaniac, Party Animal, Rebellious

Reserved (Timid): Disciplined, Loner, Proper, Shy, Unflirty, Personality

Serious (Productive): Brooding, Disciplined, Frugal, No Sense of Humor, Perfectionist, Workaholic

Stylish: Avant Garde, Diva, Irresistible, Cosmetology badge, Fashion interest

Tidy (Neat Freak): Neat, Cleaning skill, Personality

Undead: Ghost, Vampire, Zombie

Unique (Magic): Avant Garde, Childish, Eccentric, Insane, Loser

Well-Liked (Good Rep): Good reputation, Friendly, Good, Good Sense of Humor

I use updated trait names/descriptions for several traits, mostly to be more positive or less ableist, and those are what I had in mind when I made the chemistry changes above. A few I made myself, so those are included in the RAR in a separate folder, and I recommend getting the ones linked below too:

Childish > Young at Heart

Commitment Issues > Noncommittal (@equinoxts2)

Evil > Devious (@equinoxts2)

Good > Kind

Insane > Erratic (@dreadpirate)

Kleptomaniac > Sticky Fingers

Loser > Underdog

Neurotic > Anxious

Unstable > Indecisive (@equinoxts2)

[fourthwifematerial]

garden of forking paths | 四 | part ii. body

yandere lord tengen x fourth wife, eiji. word count: 7,086. explicit content. 18+ MDNI

with the worst of their trials behind them, the wives are the latest to impress.

[ previous ] [ next ]

please be mindful of the ample warnings as we're all responsible for curating our own fandom experience✌️ this chapter contains cockwarming, nonconsensual somnophilia, force feeding, hierarchical bullying, face & breast slapping, exhibitionism, nonconsensual breast fucking & deepthroating, neuro spice, identity porn, nonconsensual oral, degradation, spanking, & anal

Eiji wakes to a trickling sound. Water in a basin, perhaps. She isn’t eager to open her eyes just yet, content enough to live in the mystery a little while longer.

The torrid events behind them seem to have dulled her senses. Her body has never been so spent.

Every inch of her screams out in a unilateral cry for relief. There��s not a silent muscle or limb on her. He put her through the wringer last night, made damn sure she was worthy of her station. 

She can’t have been asleep for more than a few hours. The sun had barely breached the horizon when he locked her in his arms and bid her sweet dreams.

What a crock… 

Uzui pressed his lips to her temple and crown.

“Get some rest. You’ve earned it.”

limbs akimbo in the sheets. sunrise bleeding on the horizon.

Her eyes were heavy on the window. He traced her face with such a fondness, as if he meant to memorize her every feature to the letter. He’s half hard, still fully sheathed inside her tight warmth.

She heaved a breathy sigh. For as much of a bastard Eiji considered him, Lord Tengen was a generous lover. He was considerate, in his way. If she’d been anyone else, she could see the appeal.

“Is that an order or a suggestion?” She’d hardly been able to recognize her voice as she spoke. It came out deep and used… raspy, even. “You plan on making me if I refuse?”

“It’s whatever you need it to be to see it done.”

“Are you going to…”

He rewards her impertinence with a pinch to her waist.

“Shut your eyes. Shut your mouth. Let me take what I need.”

Deflated from the high she’d just found herself riding, she sinks back into the sheets. Eiji did as she was told, as she’d done her whole life.

she shut her eyes. she shut her mouth. she let him take what he needed.

Face buried in her neck, his fingers lazily danced on her clit. When she began to cry softly, he buried her face in the pillow to silence her. 

“Just go… - fuck - Go to sleep!”

He went from warming his cock on her side to fucking her for the umpteenth time this night. 

The man was relentless. A fiend. 

She took back every kindness she’d ever thought about him.

Her vision began to haze. When he thrust, just so… she saw stars. She stilled beneath him as their juices spill out of her, pooling between them.

She let herself be lulled by the push and the pull, just like that night… His pace was impossible to keep up with, even as the man was nearing his end. 

His labored breath in her ears brought her right back to the roar of the waters. 

It wasn’t long before she found herself on that very beach.

There was nothing for miles, only craggy rocks and shells sharp enough to make her feet bleed.

Step by painful step and this is where it’s led her.

Wrapped in the customary linens, with the zukin preserving her modesty as Sister of faith, she came upon herself in the shallows. She watched the Virgin Eiji fall to her knees.

The waves crashed all around as she raged at the sea. She screamed and screamed until there was nothing left.

Her habit flew off into the wind, just as before.

The waters ran red, too.

But when Sister Eiji turned to face her, she saw herself hauling her own corpse from the bloodied water.

A cold compress lays upon her resting head. Proves her suspicions, at least. Feels nice.  

It’s ages before her mind catches up with her vision—she could’ve sworn an angel was tending to the worst of it… wringing a fresh cloth, presumably for the rest.

When the morning light hits her legs, a horrified gasp hits her ears. 

“What did he do to you…” 

The walls have ears. She knows it’s time to slip away; that razor thin place between herself and her sister. 

“Nothing I haven’t already been paid for.” Words ground with mortar and pestle, it’s a desperate plea on her tongue. “Please don’t linger, sister.”

Slow to start, Emiko’s touch ghosts across the most aching of places. The ones that won’t kill them to think about. 

her neck… her lips. her cheeks. her eyes.

Just before she can tell her sister off, a pained hiss fills the room. Eiji tracks the source under a now bloodied compress, passing a trail of bites over the scars that coil around her leg. Imprinted canines and incisors drag across her skin. 

still tender. still bleeding. 

What did he do to you?

Her question lingers between them… unspoken, unacknowledged. 

The silence looms, composure falling under the dual scrutiny of her marred flesh.

“The customers would never have marked you up like this,” she snaps. 

“Because I had you to keep me safe.”

“I know you’re angry—”

With the roll of her eyes, Eiji snatches the cloth from her forehead and quickly cleans her bruise kissed thighs.

“I’m not angry. I’m tired… I’m sore.”

“You need to eat so you can heal.”

Would that Eiji had want of the marriage, of him… If she were here of her own volition, one might mistake her for pouting.

“Should probably go out there,” she laments. 

“Can I help you dress?”

She pushes herself up off the futon, face falling at the question. “Why would you help me dress?”

Eiji is already across the room before Emiko can think to answer. She opens a cabinet armed to the teeth with yukata and the like… Bringing out a fresh juban, she sets upon dressing herself.

The late spring air hits her wounds, fresh and healed, leaving the slip she went to bed in a mere pile on the floor.

Broken from her daze, Emiko joins her in the fray. Once the yukata was on fully, she wrapped the obiage around Eiji before either sibling could kick up a fuss.

The cotton she wears is mint green. The obi, a blush piece with patterns of liquid smoke, golden brushstrokes with notes of amethyst.

With the belt sufficiently manhandled around her protesting sister, Emiko wipes her brow with a wry smile. She combs the wisping hairs atop her head with her fingers, now curly from more fresh growth Eiji’s permitted herself in years.

“Stay still,” she pants. “I’m nearly finished.” 

Eiji does as she’s told. She worries at her lips, all teeth and tongue. “Sissy—” 

“Hmm.”

“How much did you hear?”

And with no less than five syllables between them, the oppressive silence returns. Emiko can barely stomach looking at her. 

She could only sigh, disgust and remorse pooling in her gut. 

for what she’s done…

…for what she couldn’t do.

She takes her sister by the arm, gently leading her to that very mirror from the night before. The sole voyeur to their utter destruction.

“The sounds he was making…” Emiko smoothes the last of the finger curls with some beeswax she’d pocketed back at the Butterfly Mansion. “He sounded like he was eating you alive.”

No testimony is given to the contrary. They don’t have to say a word between each other.

“We should go before you’re missed.”

A nod from Eiji, who says nothing in return. 

Arm in arm, the twins leave the strange creature comforts of the bedroom for the hall. It’s a long stretch, made all the more so by their mutual reluctance to join the wives for breakfast. Neither sister could have known before leaving the sanctity of the room whether Lord Tengen would be at the head of the table.

too much, too soon.

The bedroom was practically sacred ground with all the noise coming from the others… 

“Suma, she hasn’t even been out yet,” scolds an angry voice. “Show some restraint, why don’t you.”

“I can’t help it,” wails a second. “The newlywed spread is too good to pass up. I’m sure Emiko won’t mind! We’re a part of this marriage, aren’t we? We’ve been here longer anyways, it’s only right we get priority serving!”

“That’s enough… Not to pry in the affairs of a fellow wife, but the poor girl deserves to try whatever food suits her tastes. An option impeded by your avarice, dear heart.” 

The third, Eiji properly recognizes. Collected and cool, level headed even as the sky falls all around her.

It’s a kiss that ends the infighting between them.

Suma, apparently, sighs in surrender. “If one of us ought to practice restraining himself—”

“I’ve never had any complaints,” he cuts her off before she can continue her lascivious train of thought.

So. He is there to join them.

“You kept her up all night,” the first voice notes wryly. “Probably not much in the way of grievances if she’s sleeping right through it. I’d be shocked if she stayed awake for all of that…”

“Quiet,” he demands of them all.

Once they turn the corner, Emiko maintains a featherlight hold on her. She makes quick work of guiding her to the open seat at Lord Tengen’s side before taking her place by the wall. A silent observer. Ornamental. Disregarded and underestimated. Eiji’s fingers twitch in longing. She misses that life desperately, craves it like a drunk to a tokkuri of saké. 

Even after such a short time apart, she still feels naked and far too exposed without a zukin.

Now seated, all eyes bear into her with no one speaking a word. Her cheeks flush under the withering attention.

The level headed bride in purple seems to take pity on her as she is the first to break the silence.

“Emiko, it’s wonderful to meet you properly. My name is Hinatsuru.” With a sweeping hand from her heart to the first and second wife, she smiles softly as introductions are made. 

“These two could wake the dead with all their banter… Suma, Makio. Let’s show our sister wife we can be civil, yes?”

The others grumble their apologies, still eating and half listening.

Eiji bows her head in reverence. “Thank you, Hinatsuru. That’s very kind of you.”

Hinatsuru brightens, taking initiative to fill an empty plate. She turns away from the table, still loading up on fish and rice.

“Sister Eiji, is there anything you can’t tolerate?”

From her place on the wall, Emiko stiffens at the direct address. 

She still isn’t used to it. Not her name. Not her role.

She can’t trust herself with the words just yet. Her eyes flit to the table before they lock on her sister’s, all the while, holding her tongue.

“There’s nothing that makes her sick,” Eiji proper says in reply. “She’s always been the stronger between us. Personally, I can’t handle buckwheat.”

The smallest of the three, with blunt bangs cut straight above her brow, can barely contain herself in the seat parallel to her own. Suma’s cheeks flush from exertion, locked in a silent battle of wills all unto herself; her fists are raised, arms nearly shaking, not unlike a toddler.

“See?” The girl’s voice is shrill as it is smug. She’s already back to seconds on the soba before her, eyes brimming with a shine of righteous indignation. “I told you she’d be fine with it!” 

Before Eiji can think to reply, she’s stunned into silence tracking her sister’s plate; Hinatsuru passes it off to Makio who wordlessly hands the food to her sister. 

Not quite an olive branch. More so how one might tend to a dog. Cursory. Habitual… It lacks the warmth of human interaction, from the goodness of her heart, almost like she’s looking down on her. 

The disdain radiates from her like a child to a chore. There’s a bitter note to it. Hosting not one, but two additional mouths to feed was hardly her call to make, nor was it her place to refute.

 Watching her sister eat appeases her some… but it does little to temper the burn of resentment she holds for the woman.

“You’re not eating,” Lord Tengen comments.

It’s the first he’s spoken to her since the sun rose against them. 

Eiji’s knuckles go white as she wrings her hands. She flexes her hands in a futile reach for composure..

“Well?” he questions, already impatient with her daze. “Starving yourself isn’t going to do you any favors, you know.”

His words do even less to assure her. If anything, her hackles rise like the damn dog they all make her sister out to be.

“No… My eyes are bigger than my stomach, I’m afraid.”

She couldn’t eat if she wanted to. She feels sick. She is sick.

She wants nothing more than to crawl back into bed and sleep for a week. The bruises will still be there, yes. Probably darkened and green. But maybe her nerves will finally stop twisting in her gut.

The answer does little to impress Uzui. He watches her, expectant that she’d change her mind with the narrow of his eyes…

She averts his gaze, looking to her sister. A relieved sigh escapes her at the sight of the half consumed fish.

Good, she thinks. At least she’s eating.

Calloused fingers grab at her jaw, forcing her hand. He watches her, thoroughly unamused.

“I don’t like damage inflicted on what’s mine.”

Before she can even cry out in pain, he’s swiping several pickled radishes from the table before popping them in his mouth. He chews them thoughtfully, eyes unyielding as he keeps her in his sights. Just as she believes he’s due to swallow, he pulls their lips flush together—

Her eyes widen in panic. There’s a weak drag of her arm that preludes the palm pushing his chest, still desperately spent from her unwitting consummation.

The food was fed from his mouth into her own. His tongue lapped at the offering, forcing the sour crawl further down her throat to ensure a proper start to the feeding.

She fights against him, the promise of bile burning the back of her throat as she fights off her mounting gag reflex.

He restrains her with his corded muscles. Locks her in place with an arm snug around her middle, fingers of his free hand coaxing the swallow down her throat.

Uzui barely allows her breath to scream. Keeps her like that until there’s nothing left. He only relents to fill his own mouth. 

again and again and again until he could call her fed.

the fish. the tamago. the rice. the ginger.

He forces her mouth open to drink. It’s only when the warm broth hits her lips and she’s half choking on tofu that she realizes it’s soup.

spittle runs down her chin as the miso spills from her mouth. 

When he’s finally done with her, Uzui takes hold of her scalp. Her finger curls are tainted by his touch.

Garnet. Like the seeds of a pomegranate.

His gaze bears down on her. He’s dragging her by the hair, pulling her in his white knuckle grip.

“Apologize,” he demands.

in for a penny, in for a pound and all that.

The words fall from her lips like the vomit that won’t seem to come, all before she can think better of it. “Drop dead.” 

She hears the strike land before registering the pain blossoming across her cheek… and now she’s on the floor, a spread almost comparable to the breakfast laid out for them all.

The other wives are cavalier in his abuse, eating their fill while he pins her to the ground.

Emiko watches the scene in abject horror. Stuck-still, powerless to intervene. She slides down her place on the wall in shame and defeat.

unable to stop herself…

She can’t look away. 

…unable to stop him.

He nearly tears the obi off her, leaving her yukata hanging exposed. Her nipples pebble under the thin barrier of the juban, and he takes merciless notice.

Off the slip goes, joining the belt beside them.

Nails rake a path over her bust. He pinches the hardened peaks, twisting and kneading them until she’s crying out beneath him.

He gives them a slap. Then another. And a third for good measure.

Uzui lets his mouth water at the skin darkening under his touch. He gets in close to suckle on them. Bite them. Slobber all over them like a damn animal.

No preamble. No notice. Just the cursed sight of him smearing his beading precome over her abused chest.

He gives himself a cursory pump or two before laying his heavy cock between her breasts. Fucking into her, he pushes her tits closer, manhandling her to suit his needy pace.

The wives make idle conversation as he fucks her like this. No one acknowledges the debauchery and no one comes to her aid.

It’s unclear to Eiji if vindication over this indignity is worth Emiko’s poor eyes bearing witness. They both know she heard him fucking her for hours last night. She didn’t have to see to know.

Lord Tengen’s forceful grunts echo through the room. She’s seen enough of him in action to know he’s close.

With as much speed as the realization that dawned on her, he’s off her just as quickly. Drags her hair, forces her on her knees. His thumb ghosts along the soft pout of her lips, eyes blown with fury and lust as he works her mouth open for him.

“You’re not to spill a drop, do you understand me?” he warns, a light tap to her cheek before tracing the neckline of her yukata with his knuckle.

Fist buried in her hair, he rolls his hips in a shallow snap to start. She sputters and gags as he takes himself deeper, her hands beating against his clothed thighs in wordless protest.

Uzui only meets her violence with violence—he takes the offending touch and holds her splayed hands at either side of her head, fucking her mouth with reckless abandon until the only sound remaining was the merciless score of her choking on his shaft.

“Nothing more to say,” he panted, voice strained in weary concentration. “Interesting how that works with a cock down your throat, isn’t it.”

Eiji watches him with so much vitriol in her gaze. He catches her, holds her in that moment… and then he loses the plot.

His hips stutter in pace as he comes. He groans over her, pulling her flush against him.

She milks his cock, swallowing all he gives her with a grimace. When he pulls out, she whines under his further scrutiny—one hand with an iron grip on her chin, the other forcing her back open to see if she’d followed his order to the letter.

She’s rewarded with sweet degradation and a pat on her head. “That’s a good whore,” he praises roughly.

It takes all her will not to flinch from his touch.

“Anything you care to say?” His eyes are pointed in challenge as he asks, “Emiko. Two little words and we can put this to bed.”

Her eyes burn. Her jaw aches.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” she chokes out.

He pulls her close, punctuating his pleasure with a kiss to her temple. Rising to his feet, Lord Tengen towers over her with his cock barely tucked back into his hakama.

As if nothing had even happened, he returns to the head of the table. His eyes survey the remains of the spread.

“Well done, you three. I see you’ve dug in with no shortage of gusto. You ladies do me proud.” Flashing a smile, he kisses each wife on the cheek.

“Lord Tengen,” squawks a voice from the window.

In flies Nijimaru, the lord and master’s kasugai crow. His eyes flit towards the crow, having taken his perch on the sill of the window. 

“Lower Moon Five has been defeated! Slain on the Mugen Train by Kyojuro Rengoku! Flame Hashira, Lord Rengoku has defeated Lower Moon Five with no human casualties—neither civilian nor Slayer!”

The wives look amongst themselves, seemingly elated by the news.

“Lord Tengen, Report to Master Ubuyashiki’s Headquarters for further mission instructions.”

The twins lock eyes. With all these names and dynamics floating around, they could only ground themselves in quiet concert. As ever, barricaded inside themselves.

“Understood,” Uzui affirms.

They all watch the kasugai fly back out the window.

He looks at his disheveled wife over his shoulder.

“Sister Eiji,” he calls. “Would you be so kind as to take Emiko to the onsen? It seems she’s made a mess of herself.”

Emiko proper bows, silently ushering Eiji from the room. She wraps an arm around her shoulders to help support her weight.

she’s shaking… 

her arms.

they’re shaking.

The twins are all but wordless as they make for the bath.

Neither allow themselves the further indignity of falling apart, not within earshot.

Eiji clutches her yukata closed, holding it like a lifeline until they’re past the door. 

The sisters break from each other. Emiko walks on before realizing she’s alone on the path to the onsen.

She turns. “Sister…”

Free from the burdens of decorum, of maintaining her role, Eiji falls to her knees and beats at the earth beneath her fingertips.

She presses her forehead against the dew kissed ground. Buries the incident like everything else.

the consummation. renouncing her vows. scars, old and new.

Even as she cries, she forces herself to swallow the rage and shame. Bitter as his come. But she chokes it down all the same.

Time was a construct among the sweet dirt and moss.

knees tucked into her aching breasts. arms outstretched over the greenery.

Eiji startles when a warm hand descends over her back, smooth and splayed. The touch is gentle and patient, she’s quick to settle.

‘hush, hush, baby rabbit… up on the hill…’

The words thrum in her blood as her mother sang them.

‘why are your eyes so red?’

She curls in closer, dirtied fingers twisting in her lap.

‘when i was small… mother are the fruit of the red tree’

🪞

Emiko hadn’t wanted to do it. But she couldn’t just leave her like that.

She returns through the door where she came and makes quick work of tracking down someone… anyone.

Following the voices gathered in the lounge, Suma sits on Lord Tengen’s lap while the other two drink tea.

As soon as she enters the room, a cold hush descends upon the marriage, rendering them all speechless before her.

Uzui looks at her with those piercing eyes of his.

sizing her up. gauging her intent.

The others simply pout at the disruption.

“That was fast for a bath,” he quips. “Where’s your sister? She drown herself already?”

She still doesn’t trust her words.

Raising a hand, she points to the long stretch of hall leading to the back door.

Lord Tengen follows her wordless dictation, tracking with his eyes, already bored with her play of charades. 

“Hinatsuru, my dear.” He waves Sister Eiji off with the swipe of his manicured hands. “See what the little voyeur needs. It’s like drawing pus from a damn wound, I swear.”

His ravenette bride rises from her seat and presses a kiss on her husband’s cheek before following after the good Sister.

By the time they reach her in the yard, she’s on her back with her breasts fully exposed to the elements. One palm  weakly raised to the sky to block out the sun while the other remains twisted in the earth.

They carry either side of her into the onsen. Inside, they place Eiji on the stool so as to give her a thorough cleaning before the bath.

“My husband is not a cruel man… but what he did was callous,” she murmurs, all remorse.

She doesn’t dignify her with a response, instead focusing on the task at hand.

“If this is how you prefer it, we don’t have to talk…”

“Prefer it,” she scoffs.

It’s the first words she’s spoken in her new life. She suddenly feels inspired by her sister’s natural indignation.

“So you can speak.”

She ignores her question, filling the bucket with water and soaping the wetted towel.

“You say your husband isn’t cruel… To you , perhaps. Hasn’t my dear sister been through enough?”

They scour her flesh with a sudsy cloth, scrubbing her raw, watching the dirt and debris fall with little difficulty.

her neck. her arms. each individual finger.

A shudder tears through Eiji as they erase all traces of the meadow.

“Mother—”

“That’s enough now.” Emiko lulls her softly, drying her eyes and holding her close, “I’m not leaving you again.”

Hinatsuru kept a steady pace with the regimen. She took her time with her sister wife’s breasts. Her legs. There wasn’t an inch of her she hadn’t cleansed and polished. 

Every so often she’d graze a bruise. Most fresh, the most faded were from that night. 

It was hardly a wonder why their was no love lost between the nun and their family.

When her face was washed properly along with her hair, Emiko does kakeyu, dousing her sister with water when Hinatsuru prompts her into doing so.

The bucket was hot, flowing over her skin. It would never be enough for her, not to wash away the sin…

Being led to the bath, Eiji fights through the pain. There’s so much she could cry for, if she turned to the well, she’d never be able to stop.

Once she’s in the water, the utter lack of recollection dawns on her.

how long…

…how long…

…how long.

“Oh… I’m in the bath,” she realizes.

Eiji forgets herself having lost everything after breakfast, if one could deign to call that fucking travesty breakfast.

Just thinking of his tongue in her mouth shoveling dish after dish… 

She sinks under the water, if only for a moment. Curls her arms around her knees and screams.

🪞

It’s the first time she can feel herself breathe in this place.

Emiko is left totally alone in the receiving room. She rolls her shoulders, eyes falling shut.

When Hinatsuru returns with tea for them both, she straightens, but gives her sincere appreciation.

“Thank you.”

She takes her cup eagerly, beyond grateful for it. Her body even relaxed a touch.

“You know. Lord Tengen bet everyone you’d slap him before the end of the meal.”

“Did he, now…” Emiko asks softly. “Who won the wager?”

Hinatsuru glances over the porcelain rim of her cup.

“A betting woman never tells.”

“So it was you,” she surmises.

A shrug. “Just because I bet on losing dogs doesn’t mean I know why.”

One sip leads to another. Before long, her cup is nearly empty. She can’t ignore the unspoken question any longer.

“I figure things will go better for her if I don’t act on impulse.”

“Look at who you’re living with,” Hinatsuru holds the rim with her slender fingers. “No one else is holding back.”

“Freedom of choice doesn’t equate to freedom from consequence,” she deadpans.

“Such wise words, Sister.”

She shakes her head. “No need for formalities…” 

“Eiji, then.”

Slow to start, the chilly reception was beginning to thaw. 

“Awfully forward, but so be it.”

She’d find a place here, yet.

The pair finish their tea in due course, slowly making their way back to the onsen. On the other side of the door, they’re greeted by the uncanny sight of her other half.

lying in the water. gaze fixed on the ceiling. breath steady with her countless bruises and scars on full display.

“E…Emiko?” The good Sister corrects herself before she can do something stupid like say her actual name.

“I saw myself in the water. The waves were thrashing against the shore…”

“The shore? From when we were children?”

She doesn’t even nod. “Yes.” Just agrees, voice dull.

No one speaks. Neither sister, nor wife.

“I heard our mother singing to me. Could’ve been you for all I know…”

Emiko scoffs. “In your dreams.”

It’s the first Eiji’s smiled… truly smiled. “Right,” she says softly, her voice tinged with remorse.

Rising from the bath and without any prompting, Emiko turns to gather her towel. She’s quick to shroud her sister and preserve her modesty.

“Let’s get you dried off.”

Watching the scene play out in front of her, Hinatsuru turns with a laugh. Natural moments like this. Intimate and deft… they were a precious thing. Especially in a world so perilous as the one they’d inherited.

They leave the onsen one after the next with Suma and Makio still unaccounted for.

It was a different atmosphere having Hina here in place of their husband. She was softer, kinder. 

more patient. more mindful.

There were half a dozen yukata strewn across the floor, waiting for their judgment. Just three obi belts to choose between.

Swatch after swatch with a voice nearly so soft as her touch, Hinatsuru praises Eiji for matters entirely out of her control.

“I quite like the coral,” she offers, still unsure.

Emiko nods in wordless agreement, quick to dress her sister before she could say no.

It was quiet work between them with Hinatsuru’s fingers grazing her scalp. Layer by layer, careful around any lingering trace of injury.

“You really do have the most lovely hair,” she muses thoughtfully. “It’s so soft, I could lose myself like this.”

Eiji’s cheeks heat. She can’t lie… any longer under this deft touch of hers, she’d lose herself just the same.

It’s the sudden slide of the door that spoils their fun. 

“What’s she doing in here?”

Suma and Makio enter the marriage bed without ceremony or warning, casting disdainful glances toward the nun in question.

“This isn’t where you should be,” Makio scolds her. The wife in red had a hand on her hip, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Do you have any decency? Lord Tengen told us you were up half the night listening to them on the veranda.”

She gives chase with a raised fist. Emiko flees the scene.

The last sight before the door’s shut: Eiji’s eyes locking on her own.

Her whole body tenses with the snap of the door. Emiko’s fingers ghost across her face, twin frowns burning in mind and memory.

She takes her leave for the night and brushes off the rebuff. 

“Nothing to be done for it,” she shrugs.

Emiko returns to the common area for her tea. With no one home to stop her, she pockets an orange from the picked over dining table. Swipes the saké, too.

She takes the orange to the kitchen and runs it under some water. She peels the skin with a knife in one uninterrupted pile of citrus before halving the fruit. She drains it for all it’s worth, setting the juice aside.

It takes her a minute to finagle a lemon, draining the citron in one fell swoop.

Tiny cuts lap at her skin, hands stinging until she can pat her hands down with the damp kitchen cloth.

She gathers up the lemon juice, the orange juice, and her green tea. Along with some honey, they all join the pot. She turns the heat on, preferring her tea hot.

She eyeballs the saké, giving absolutely no fucks.

She stirs the pot until it’s nearly boiling over. Reducing the heat, she relishes in the steam, eyes shut as she breathes it in.

“Hope you made enough for two.” 

Lord Tengen was already inside before she even realized he was back. His silhouette towers over her, even from this far, just standing in the frame of the entrance. 

Should Emiko have been on her guard, she’d have taken note of the state of the door, open as it was. Of the fresh air and mild breeze on the setting sun. Pity that observation was never her strong suit.

she doesn’t turn, nor does she face him.

“I mean, it hardly feels like an inappropriate request… it is my booze you’ve absconded with, right?”

He’s locking her in place, caging her with little mercy from his rippling arms.

her body tenses under his scrutinizing eye and touch.

Time stops between them. One palm rests flush against her chest, he pulls her to him. He draws his massive fingers before her, making for the ladle in the pot.

Uzui tests the toddy. She can’t see his face or else he’d have given the game away.

His hand comes down, firmly on her backside. “Two cups. Sit with me.”

She doesn’t dare refuse him.

drinks are poured, 

garnish laid to perfection.

When she sees him again, it’s past the dining room table. He sits on the floor of the drawing room, still dressed from his assignment.

Placing a cup in front of him, Emiko keeps the other for herself.

He nods in silent thanks before indulging. The beads on his headdress swish gloriously with the motion.

“It’s a damn good drink,” he commends her.

She says nothing to his praise. She just takes her small, measured sips. 

The girls can be heard tittering from the other end of the home. She stiffens at the sound, to which his eyes narrow.

“Tell me true, Sister.” Swirling the drink in his cup, he’s relentless in his teasing. “I bet you want to kill me for defiling your precious Emiko.”

“Lord Uzui… if I took it upon myself to lay to rest every man to spill his seed inside my sister, I’d scarcely have a moment for anything else.”

It’s good. The burn of the saké down her throat. Keeps her grounded. Makes her bold.

He appreciates it all the same, if not more. Slapping his thigh, Tengen lets out a thunderous roar of approval.

“And what would you do? All that time, letting the rest of us live… There must be something you’d rather be doing.”

She downs her drink and his nearly weary eyes lock on the scene before him, incredulous and more than a little turned on.

“Booze and a bed. If you’re telling me to stand down, that she’s safe in your care, I can oblige that… I’ll take up embroidery or something.”

“Do you expect me to trust you around a needle?”

Her gaze narrows, voice nearly so frosty as the cold of her shoulder. “As if I’m meant to trust you at all.”

Lord Uzui swallows the remains of his cup, teeth flashing from the bitterness.

“You’re going to wash me.”

“Oh?”

“Then I’m going to ravage my wives.”

“As you say.”

She almost looks bored by the order. Her voice betrays her true nature. His fingers curl dangerously around her arm… 

He tempers his rage. A breath follows. 

…wordless dare in the air as he ever craves them both.

“You don’t believe me?” He cocks a silver brow, nearly daring her push him one step more. “I’m hurt. I assumed we reached an understanding.”

His touch snakes around her, boxing her in against the table’s sharp edge. He eyes her as though he’s looking for something.

the suspicion and intrigue of men never bodes well.

“You have a smart mouth. What do you say to making better use of it.”

He leans in closer, near stealing her breath. Drags her frozen fist over his hardening cock. A low groan teases his throat as he rocks into her reluctant touch.

“Better hop to, little rabbit. Else I might be tempted to fuck that virgin asshole instead.”

Emiko’s face blanches as the threat washes over her. Weak and shaking, she palms at the corded outline of his massive length. Her eyes glaze over when muscle memory takes over.

Resigned. Devastated. She sinks to the floor on shaky ground while he wastes no time freeing himself.

She laps at the column of his cock, spreading precome over the furious tip weeping in her face.

He throws his head back with a guttural sigh.

“You really picked up a trick or two from that whore sister of yours,” he praises her roughly. “May have to fuck your ass anyways. Show you what you missed last night.”

Her cheeks burn in shame, desperate to ignore the words that cut her so deep.

The price is modest enough considering she sold her sister to this brute. A cock in her mouth for room and board… 

Maybe this was her inevitable penance for selling her own sister, forcing her to wife and bed this beast. 

Hollowing her cheeks, she takes him in her mouth but by bit. He’s thick on her tongue. Heavy. 

She feels his growing impatience as he grunts over her.

“Never send a nun to do a whore’s job,” he laments.

There’s no time to process his words before he’s fisting her habit and forcing himself down her throat.

She beats against his thighs in protest. He ignores her completely, hands locked on either side of her head as he sets a raging pace.

On her knees like this, she can hear herself dying. She can hear him getting off on it. Feels like an age choking on the indignity of her own glucks and spittle. 

There’s no end for her… No end in sight.

Uzui abruptly throws her from him until she’s spilling over the floor. He leaves her clamoring for air as he drags her past the doors. 

She follows after him, no real choice in the matter. Her throat is raw… Her arm, now bruising.

He leads her outside and she shudders under the sun’s sudden assault. Uzui ignores her, ushering her inside the onsen. 

Emiko nearly trips in the dimly lit space, paying no heed to the Hashira already stripping for his bath.

His eyes dance with mirth and derision. “Wash your face. And take care of that look, I don’t want to hear a word. Not when I told you what would happen.”

She wordlessly makes for the bucket. Fills it up and swipes her cupped hands over her face.

still hot. still listless. still breaking.

She manages to steady her breathing. One after the other, slowly returning to herself.

Only when her face is being pushed into the ground does it dawn on her that he never came.

no time to think–

He knocked the wind out of her. The shove came so fast… so strong. She tastes the blood in her mouth, ears nearly bleeding the same with the tinnitus that rages.

When she tries to stand, she’s met with a firm smack on the thigh and a white knuckle grip on her bad leg.

–no room to breathe.

He draws her to her knees and arches her ass in the air. Her eyes widen in panic and it’s all too simple for the Sound Pillar to block and counter the attack when she thrashes in response.

“You’re really making me work for it, Sister.”

Flush against her back, she feels him. Every ridge. Every vein.

“Hold still,” he warns. “Don’t fight me unless you want this to hurt.”

He makes quick work gathering the fabric pooled at her calves, tossing her skirts over her head so cavalier.

Her breaths start coming in short bursts under the oppressive weight of linen slowly suffocating her.

The bastard’s made a cornered meal of her and there’s not a damn thing to be done for it. There’s nothing. No leg to sever and escape the trap. No Eiji to intervene.

He sounded like he was eating you alive.

Tears burn her eyes as her earlier words come for her throat.

She hears his debasement before feeling his cooling pool of drool run down the curvature of her ass. 

“Thinking on that first night we met,” he starts. “Gotta say, you surprised me.”

He spreads her cheeks in appraisal, thumb working his spit in and out of her tight hole.

A less experienced prostitute would relax when Uzui withdrew his fingers. But Emiko was no mere oiran. She knew better. 

He strikes her again…

and again…

and again.

She feels the fresh coat of saliva glide in and out of her, another two to join the first.

“Just look at you now…”

She shuts her eyes, biting her lip just to keep herself under lock and key

If she plays possum, she’s as good as dead. If she’s dead, this is over and done with.

Her heart aches with every strained sigh that bleeds from her lips. The hard floor is hell on her tits, his quickening pace beating her further into the ground.

“…reckon I could fry an egg on that fucking face.”

The rapid thrusts of his hips leave her gasping and shuddering beneath the caul of her skirts. She remains blind to his abuse but can feel every stroke… hear every groan…

It’s all she can do to will her body to brace for the storm and pray he finishes quick enough.

anything to quiet her mind. anything to stay still and small.

She steadies her breath to the best of her abilities. His wandering touch takes a bite of the meat of her ass in a callous bid for purchase, dipping his thick head in and out of her waiting hole.

Uzui doubles down on his efforts where her body sees fit to reject him. It’s several tries before he can so much as thread the needle.

Lurching forward with the force of his thrusts, she takes him… inch by tortuous inch until he’s fully sheathed inside of her. Too much, too soon, until Emiko’s left wailing into the floor.

A perpetual echo sounds inside the hollow onsen with the staccato of his balls beating against her exposed cunt. He props her ass higher, cock pistoning at a vicious rate.

“Where’s your God now?” 

Only when she felt the breath on her face did she realize it was Lord Uzui himself. He offers no respite pulling out, merely walks back to do kakeyu as she trembles in his wake.

She listens to his feet pad across the floor. She can hear the slow of her own heart. Her whimpers, curling in on herself. The fill of his bucket. The splash across his body. The blood in her ears. His groans as he works his fingers over his points of tension.

Emiko’s blood runs cold when the steady flow of water is shut off. The last remaining drops sound off like heavy artillery in the spanse of the bathhouse. Practically holds her breath as he passes without a word.

He dips into the onsen, arms outstretched as he luxuriates in his soak. His eyes fall shut, head falling back. She’s so sure Uzui had no further use for her.

how wrong could one woman be…

“Sister Eiji.”

[writinginnorthnorfolk]

I Want to Play

Backlit,by counterpointsof sunlight, harmonyof shadows, fingers merge with blackand white, releasemajor chords redand green, mournful minorsgrey and blue shifting between darkminus and lightof plus, untila sunbeam, dotted withmotes of a melody, breaks through.I play. Kim M Russell, 1st June 2024 Image by Michael Effendy on Unsplash Reworked from an old poem from 2019, a poems consisting of…

[briarpatch-kids]

I know you mentioned that flares for you are "weeks to months"? Can you explain more? Like is that going to be the most likely reason you aren't on Tumblr if you disappear? Or if you have a flare, do you think you'll lose your ability to Tumblr? Thanks from curious follower.

I don't think I'll lose the ability to use tumblr unless I lose the ability to type and speak both since there are voice control modules and stuff like that. Yall are stuck with me!

Flares lasting weeks to months mostly means I kind of wax and wane in my ability to do stuff and stay out of bed and have more pain that's harder to get under control. For a lot of people with illness flares, they just need to stay a day to maybe a week in bed, and then they can get back to whatever to normal for them is.

For me, a flare means I can't do my "normal" for a long time. Like I've been kind of in a mild flare since October started, maybe a bit more, so I've been stuck in bed and laying in the dark for a lot of the month. If I'm lucky, I can choose one thing to do a day, like cook dinner or play video games or watch TV or something like that instead of being able to do three or four tasks a day. But mostly I've been laying in the dark and messing around on my phone at the most. Sleeping a lot. Funny enough, that means I'm on Tumblr MORE during flares and me being gone from here usually means I'm able to be busy!

I do "trade" extra activities for getting really sick sometimes, like going to lunch. I got really sick on the way out to Boise, had some neuro issues on the way home, and then slept from like... 4pm to 8am after in exchange for getting to go out and do fun stuff yesterday. If i do it too much, though, it makes the flare worse and lasts longer and then I can't sleep at all but still have to lay in the dark and it's just The Worst. I haven't been able to get my garden ready for fall and it sucks so much.

Usually I lose two months or so out of the year to random flares, and then lose like... late November to mid February or maybe early March just for the winter. According to my doctor, winter uses more energy to exist because you have to heat yourself extra or something like that, and I should just plan for the winter to be a Bad Time.

[thought--bubble]

Kitty-Cat Part 5

Ettore X (Neuro-Divergent Reader)

Warnings Below

Word Count: 1,332

Kitty Cat Master List

Ettore Master List

Full Master List

Banners by @arcielee

Warnings: mild violence, drug use (I guess?), Dubious Consent, smut. Cockwarming(Kinda?)

You wake up the next morning or you think it's morning. It's supposed to be anyway.

You're still a bit sore, but you make your way down to the cafeteria closely following Boyse. You can feel tension in the air. Somethings up.

Something bad is happening

You get your tray of food and sit down next to Boyse. As always, she is rubbing your cheek as she eats and talks with some of the other inmates. Ettore continues to sit alone at the far table, but today, there is something different about him. A twinkle in his eye and a small smirk that seems to stay in place on his face.

What are you thinking about?

You all finish your morning meal and head off to your assignments. You are assigned to work with tchemy in the garden. You like working in the garden. It reminds you a bit of earth. It's the only thing on the ship that doesn't look mechanical.

You make your way to the garden. Tchemy hasn't arrived yet, and since he typically tells you what to do, you patiently wait for him to arrive. Time keeps passing, and still no Tchemy. Something is wrong, you know it.

You enter back into the ship to see if you can find him, although the second you enter, you hear screaming voices.

Your anxiety goes into hyper drive when the loudest voice you hear belongs to none other than Boyse.

This is bad. Very, very bad

When you find the source of the noise you are horrified. Ettore is on the floor smiling up at Boyse with a bloody nose, the blood trailing down into his mouth. Monte and Tchemy are trying to hold Boyse back.

"You didn't hear what he said! I'm gonna kill him!" Boyse screams angrily while she thrashes about trying to free herself.

You stand there looking down at the scene. You start to ferociously rub your face into your shoulder when dibs finally arrives.

"Bring her to my office!" She orders Monte and Tchemy.

"Let me go!" Boyse continues to thrash about desperate to free herself as Monte and Tchemy start to drag her towards dibs' office.

Ettore looks away from Boyse, still laughing, and sets his eyes on you. He still has that twinkle in his eye.

What are you up to?

"Ettore, my office. Let's look at that nose, " dibs says while looking down at him.

He nods and gets up, still smiling, looking rather pleased with himself.

After that the rest of the day went by in a kind of haze. Your anxiety was through the roof and you have had to self sooth all day.

Boyse was medicated and strapped to her bunk for "the safety of others" for attacking Ettore.

Ettore's nose was treated, and he was released to continue his duties. This was another example of how dibs favors the male inmates over their female counterparts.

When it is time for sleep, you are extremely agitated. Self soothing is not your specialty. Without Boyse, you really didn't have a choice. At dinner, Tchemy tried to help you, but it freaked him out, and he stopped.

You and the other girls enter your room. Boyse is already in there strapped to her bunk above yours and knocked out cold.

You crawl into your bunk and stare up at the bottom of Boyse's. You close your eyes, attempting to sleep.

You can hear every little thing as if it is being blasted into your ears at full volume, the light hum of the ship, the breathing of the sleeping girls around you, the scratching noise of the sheets against your skin anytime you make a slight movement.

Sleep brain sleep.

Eyes still closed hands by your sides, you feel it. There's a shift in the energy. Where it was loud just moments ago suddenly everything seems so very quiet. Too quiet.

You roll your head to the left and open your eyes. There he is. Ettore once again in his sleep shorts leaning up against the door frame. Eyes locked on you. You bring your hand back up toward your face and start to stroke your cheek only this time he doesn't stay in the door way.

He swiftly and quietly makes his way over to your bunk. He takes a peak up at Boyse knocked out and a small smile lights up his face for just a moment.

When he looks back at you, that smile is gone and replaced with a look of hunger. He pulls back the sheet that covers you and looks your body up and down twice, then crouches down beside your bed.

He gently caresses your cheek with the tips of his fingers.

"You're gonna be a good kitty for me, yeah?"

Yes

You close your eyes and nuzzle into his hand, not making a sound other than the little purring noises you usually do.

He pulls your sleep shorts and underwear down your legs and off your ankles in one fluid motion.

You falter for a moment, feeling the cold chill opening your eyes and looking down at yourself.

"Shhhh kitty," he spreads your legs apart, placing himself between them. You stare directly into his eyes with a questioning gaze.

He pushes your head back against the pillow and lays down on top of you stroking your cheek.

"Just take what I give you and keep quiet"

With that, he hikes your legs up so your knees are pointing up and your feet are flat against the mattress. He pulls his sleep shorts down to his mid thighs and quickly and roughly enters you.

You let out a squeak, and he quickly places his hand over your mouth. He puts his nose to your cheek and starts to nuzzle.

"Shhh kitty shhh"

You begin to calm and nuzzle back, so he begins to move in and out of you slowly. He removes his hand from your mouth and then pulls his face back.

He pulls himself off your chest, situating himself on his knees, grabbing your hips and pulling you toward him. Then he begins to pound into you, the only noise being the light squeaking of the bed and his slightly labored breathing.

Just take it

His hands grip your hips tightly, and his eyes are glued to where your bodies connect.

You close your eyes and start to lose yourself in the sensations you're feeling. What started off as an uncomfortable stinging and feeling of fullness has begun to morph into something else. Something that feels good.

Ettore removes his left hand from your hip and shoves it up your shirt, grabbing at your breast roughly. The pain and roughness seem to increase the pleasure that is starting to coil in your stomach.

You open your eyes and look at him, his eyes are closed, and his jaw is slack as his pace begins to falter. He takes his hand out of your shirt and pushes your legs up from under your thighs, and pushes them up against your stomach fucking you harder and deeper than before. He grips your thighs so tightly that it hurts but feels good at the same time when his eyes finally open, he's not looking at you he is looking up at nothing. His breathing is harsh, and just watching him experience his pleasure has a pressure building in your lower stomach you are unfamiliar with.

He squeezes your thighs really tight and stiffens inside you before you feel a warm sensation within you .

"Ahhh," he says quietly as he drops your legs back down and lowers himself on your chest again, trying to regulate his breathing. He doesn't pull out, just resting on top of and inside you. His head is next to yours, and he is breathing into the crook of your neck. You nuzzle your face into his, and he lets out a chuckle.

"You really are the perfect little pet"

Part 6

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[heartsoundslikelove]

Black Poetry Day - Roger Robinson

Celebrating Black Poetry Day at the Garden of Neuro Institute! 🎉 On this wonderful day, October 17th, the Garden of Neuro Institute is thrilled to celebrate Black Poetry Day! Today, we come together to honor the incredible voices of Black poets whose words have profoundly shaped and inspired generations. 🖤 We’re starting the celebration with a special video tribute to the legendary Roger…

[whitherwordswither]

02: Wrapped Up For Your Continuance

Some undetermined amount of hours had passed since the overwhelming pleasure of morning's first light, but it was like a distant dream upon the ledge of a precipice I could no longer reach. An echo, and a questionable one at that. The collective haze that had been buzzing in my brain and casting a heavy fog of war over my entire existence was gradually fading. But the picture was far from being any clearer.

I blinked, rubbing my eyes. I found myself sitting at my kitchen table, staring down at the dark oak top. Fingertips traced over the old scuffed surface as I tilted my head. There was no recollection of getting out of bed, much less putting on the clothes I found myself wearing. So why was I here? More over… I couldn't seem to recount for… for… how long had it been? What happened to yesterday? The day before? And even before that?

The spacious gaps in my memory were concerning and immediately piqued my anxiety. Why couldn't I remember anything? Shakily, I gripped the edge of the table in an effort to make myself stand. I didn't quite get that far as I, instead, found myself frozen in place. Having lifted my head, I was now staring across the table at… at what? It didn't make sense. Not at first.

It was like someone had neglected a garden for far too long and it had gained sentience through overgrown ire then murdered its abusive gardener with their own trowel and then casually assumed a facsimile of their shape. Or maybe I had taken a lot of drugs, which would account for the brainfog and lapses, and constructed some weird plant-matter piece of art in a state of heightened neuro-fuckery.

Neither were quite accurate. This plant construct had a face. Eyes. A smile. It tilted its head in the same fashion as I did, a singular vine worming its way across the tabletop to lay across the back of my hand. It was warm and applied pressure, squeezing. Comforting… in a not-from-this-side-of-reality kind of way.

"Good morning, again, my little sweetling~"

A mouth shifted beneath some leaf-like facial coverings. It was familiar to me, somehow. I felt we knew one another. My eyes fell to the vine, little fronds rubbing against my hand and over my wrist. My body slumped and I found myself sitting back down. No. This wasn't right, was it? The eyes across from me were deep, dark pools with traces of luminescent green, languidly oscillating like ripples stuck in a loop. I wanted to close the distance between us. I wanted to be wrapped in those arms. Those vines. But… why?

"W-wh…" My mouth was dry. Parched, like I hadn't spoken in days. Another vine shifted across the table, pushing a glass of water toward me. I took it and drank, slowly gulping it down, letting the cool liquid refresh me. More vines crept under the table, touching and gently brushing over my legs. Who? What? Where? So many questions rose in my mind as it struggled with the remote feeling that it knew this entity and at the same time not at all. I set the glass down and tried again to speak.

"Who… a-are…" Was all I managed to get out before the tip of one of those tendrils pressed to my lips.

"Tsk, tsk~ You know who I am, my darling. Are you feeling well? Does anything hurt? Tell me… and I will ease your discomforts straight away~" A series of smaller vines unfolded from the plant's shoulders and back, buds blossoming with colorful flowers… with totally non-threatening thorns at the center where a stigma and anthers should have been.

I shook my head, turning my hand over, gaze falling once more as I ran my thumb along a stretch of vine. Smooth. Soft. Why did I feel attachment? Yearning? My brows furrowed. "N-no… no. I'm… fine… I think…?"

"Are you certain? You've been through quite a lot of mental turmoil. I don't want you reopening any of those nasty little passages and slipping in to the cracks again. We'll keep you safe. Everything will be alright. We're together now." The words were meant to be reassuring, but my brain wasn't letting things go so easily. The gaps fueled that fire. I pulled my hand away from the vine.

"Who… are you…? Wh-what's… what's going on…?" I stammered through my words, my pulse picking up as I squirmed in my seat. Uncertainty seeded and grew quick in my mind, raising red flags. Sparking a wave of anxiousness. The clouds cleared. I shoved back from my chair as I stood, unsteadily falling back against the dining hutch behind me. Glass rattled with the impact. Now that I had a hold of that uneasy thread I wasn't letting go. This was my house. I lived here. Alone. And many years before, family. Stepmom. Father. Sister. I grew up here.

The plant was out of place. Alien. I could feel a frantic bile at the back of my throat as my brain scrambled in attempts to calculate the best course of action. My legs refused to comply to my many demands that they move me, with haste. I turned my head toward the kitchen. The island counter, cluttered with years of knicks, knacks, odds, ends… and knives.

Movement had my attention snapping back to my uninvited guest. The vines had withdrawn back toward it as it slowly stood. It was taller than it had any right to be, having to bend slightly to not hit the ceiling, which was lower in this part of the house. It's features, for a moment, were twisted in what I could only describe as distaste… then swiftly shifted to comfort. For my benefit? Was it playing harmless? It's body rustled, leaves twitching as if in a breeze. It seemed to shrink, folding in on itself, tendrils constricting as it adopted a more humanoid shape. My leg muscles were cramping and a strained noise warbled in my throat as it approached, tapered digits akin to branches spread, showing it meant no ill will. My brain screamed I could trust it at the same time it screamed to get away. And all I could do was shrink back against the hutch, near to hyperventilating as my thoughts raced like bolts of lightning across a boiling sky.

"Shhhh~ Shhh~ It's alright, sweetling. You're alright. I am not here to hurt you. I would never." It crept closer. Closer. Those spindly fingers traced up my arms, rubbed over my shoulders and neck then carefully cradled my face. I could look nowhere else except in to those mesmerizing eyes, opening wider and wider before me. Swirling. The front of the plant's body pressed against mine, exuding warmth. "I can see that I did not do a very acceptable job in altering all the appropriate neural pathways… for that I apologize, little one. It has been, admittedly, a long time since I have worked with your species."

The words whirled around in my ears, fixating on one in particular: Altering. What did it mean? Pathways? Worked with? A pit formed in my stomach as I shook, despite the calming caresses. Vines played along my sides and hips, trying to lull me back in to a more tranquil state.

"Wh-what… d-did you… do? Why… c-can't I… re… remember…?" Why did I feel so accusatory, so certain this creature was at fault? Was it? Was I? My inner monologue separated in to pieces and argued. I hated when it did that. It was always a circular struggle that went nowhere.

"You will not remember." It's next words were sharp. Commanding. The bark-like palm of it's hand pressed to my cheek. Stroked. I found my head tilting in to it as the entity's voice softened. "It's for your own safety, little one. I know things are fuzzy and frightening right now. But I am here to help you. I'm going to make everything better. I promise. You won't hurt ever again…"

I was so focused on their eyes I didn't notice the two flowers snaking around, nor did I feel the dual pinpricks against my neck. Those eyes were too beautiful I wanted to do nothing else but stare in to them forever. No, more than that. I wanted to crawl in to them! I felt myself leaning toward the plant, the edges of my vision darkening. The whole world was darkening. But that was ok! I felt like I was being pulled in to those eyes. Swallowed by them. I could feel myself dipping in to warm murky water, thick like syrup. Swirls of green like ripples drifting outward from my body. That's when the haziness returned. But I didn't mind it. I was safe here. Everything felt tingly and warm and good. So very good. Was that me who giggled?

"Come with me now, sweetling~ We're going to have a nice dream. A perfect spring meadow. Just the two of us~"

Like the softest cotton, I followed those words deeper down and further out in to bliss. My body was forgotten, wrapped yet again in a thousand vines and carried off to the living room couch. Nestled down. Protected as I swam the endless ocean of the pools in the plant's eyes and dissolved in their obscuring waters. I became the salt in that sea. I swam and coalesced and drifted along until I could no longer feel myself. I was an empty vessel waiting to be refilled with the warmth of being.

I was an empty vessel waiting for meaning.